Chapter VII: Part 7

At the time the Dey was newly come into his kingdom, he was warring not only with the Christians by sea, but also against his brothers that contested the kingdom against him at his father’s death; when he not only showed his people that he was a lion in the fight, but also showed them that he was a better general, young as he was, than any emir his brothers could bring against him. Now it happened, after that he had won several great victories, and driven his brothers to take refuge in the mountains with such few of their followers as remained to them, he retired to Algiers, where he sought to consolidate his kingdom and rest for a while from the fatigues of war. Nor had he been there long, when his fleet arrived in port, having on board much riches plundered from the Christians, and also many slaves, among whom was a most beautiful Greek girl whom the captain had brought as a present for his sovereign. This slave indeed was a miracle of beauty, a very jewel, barely seventeen years of age, and such as one might scarcely conceive to exist in the flesh or in any other way than in the conception of the great sculptors of ancient times. I need not say that no sooner had the Dey seen her than he fell deeply in love, insomuch that he could take no delight out of her company, and his love increased little by little until he utterly neglected the affairs of his kingdom, leaving his emirs to do as they pleased, and oppress and plunder the people, while the enemy that was before utterly routed and obliged to skulk in caverns and difficult places, began again to take heart of grace in the general disorder, and so to harass the kingdom that there was no security or peace from end to end. In these circumstances the Janissaries, or soldiers, began with open voice to murmur, complaining that their lord consumed his life effeminately and that they were left without employment while the kingdom went to ruin; while the poor commonalty were oppressed on the one side by their rulers, and on the other by the enemy, so that they too began to broach open sedition, saying that their lord was no lord for them, since he conferred no profit on the kingdom but allowed them to be eaten up from without and within. Yet there was none that durst declare any of these things to the Dey, for they all knew his terrible humour: and, moreover, he was so deeply steeped in love for the beautiful Greek that it was no light thing to draw him away from her. Thus it was that his people began to despair of a remedy, and began to be of one mind to yield no more obedience to him, but to choose some other prince to be Dey, more martial and more warlike, that would rid the kingdom of its enemies and make the emirs give some account of their government. Now, among the counsellors of the Dey, there was one that was called Hamed, the greatest favourite that he ever had, who had come almost a boy into his army, and had distinguished himself in several actions. Having thus come under the young Dey’s notice, and being, moreover, a youth of great parts, frank and noble, and of a merry humour, the Dey grew into great familiarity with him, insomuch that he allowed him to enter his presence whenever he would. This Hamed was heartily grieved at the infatuation of his master and the danger into which he had fallen of being bereft of his kingdom, and resolved that, come what might, he would seek to draw him away from the Greek. When, therefore, he perceived a convenient time, such as he desired to have, he repaired to the Dey who was walking alone in his garden, and after he had made great reverence according to the custom, he said: ‘My sovereign lord, if thou wilt permit me to speak freely without fear, I have that to tell thee which greatly concerns thy State, and what is still more important to all thy loving people, the safety of thy own person.’ To which the Dey answered merrily: ‘Cast aside all fear and speak freely what is on thy mind, for who shall speak to me if thou mayest not?’ Then Hamed continued: ‘I doubt that what I say may be displeasing to thee, but believe me that nothing but the love and reverence I have for thee compels my tongue to wound thy ears; and indeed, I fear that I have kept silence too long.’ He then proceeded to tell him as gently as he could, what was the state of his kingdom, how the enemy were pressing upon him, how the emirs governed and oppressed the people, and how the people murmured; so that the kingdom was ripe for rebellion, and there was already talk of deposing him and appointing a new Dey. Then he exhorted him to attend to the government and leave off his slothful life. ‘Be now,’ he continued, ‘a conqueror of thyself, and separate thee from thy slave; or, if so be the Greek delight thee so much, who shall prevent thee from carrying her with thee on all thy expeditions, and why canst thou not both enjoy her company and use the practice of arms? And if I have spoken anything disagreeable to thy mind, pardon the same according to thy wonted clemency, and impute the fault rather to my sense of duty, and the care that I have of thy honour and safety.’ The Dey, when he had listened to the discourse of his friend, stood as though he had been struck by a thunderbolt: his eyes were fixed upon the ground, his chest heaved, his breath came fast and thick, his colour changed, the veins in his forehead swelled, and, in short, he discovered every sign of agitation and unquietness of mind, insomuch that Hamed, seeing him in these alterations, was in doubt of his life. A furious battle raged in the mind of the Dey, for he knew that Hamed had spoken the truth, while on the other side the beautiful eyes of Heliodora seemed to plead with him to continue in his perfect love and happiness, and the idea of abandoning her was as though he contemplated tearing his own heart from his bosom. With great rage he turned upon Hamed and said: ‘Before the sun shall once again turn in the heavens, I will let thee and others know what power I have over myself, and whether I am able to bridle my passion or no. Bid the emirs and bashas and grandees, and the captains and principal men assemble to-morrow in the great hall of the divan, where I will meet them, and now, if you value your life, be gone!’ The next day, all the emirs and bashas and grandees, and all the principal men, together with Hamed, were assembled in the great hall of the divan, wondering what the Dey’s words had portended, when, to the sounds of drums and cymbals, the Dey entered, leading Heliodora by the hand. When he had come to the throne, he stood still, and cried with a loud voice: ‘Ho, emirs and grandees, it has been brought to my understanding that ye complain I devote too much time to this fair being, to the neglect of the affairs of my kingdom, and that I am weak and unable to overcome my passion and am unworthy any longer to command you.’ Then he drew the veil from the face of Heliodora, and all present were amazed at her beauty, insomuch that they could only murmur Allah! Allah! extolled be the perfection of Him who hath fashioned thee! And they placed the finger of admiration in the mouth of wonder, and stood there dumb as fish newly taken from the seas. Then the Dey said to them: ‘Which among you that possessed this miracle would have done otherwise than I have, or would have endured any moment apart from her?’ To which the assembled great men of the kingdom cried with one voice: ‘None of us, O Dey; may we be your sacrifice, had it been vouchsafed to us, we should have done even the same!’ ‘And which among you,’ cried he, ‘would have done as I do?’ And so saying, he drew the glittering falchion from his side, seized the fair Heliodora by her yellow hair, and drawing her head back, cut her ivory throat with one stroke from ear to ear, so that she fell on the ground, and her life’s blood welled out over his feet. With a terrible frown he commanded them straightway to assemble their men-at-arms, and to meet him the next day to march against the enemy, when he fought as even he had never fought before; for he raged among them as a lion that has lost its whelps, until they were utterly defeated, and those of his officers who had oppressed the people, he caused to die by the most horrible of deaths, nor did he pass over any dereliction of duty in any one, so that people hardly dared to move for fear of him, and they regretted that they had aroused him from his sloth. For many years he was never seen to smile, but waged incessant war with all the tribes round about until old age grew upon him; but even at the present day it is whispered that he starts and weeps and groans in his sleep, and agonised cries still ring through the palace in the dead of night of ‘Heliodora!’

* * * * *

Such is his character, yet, when it pleases him, he cares for none of the state and appanage of his magnificence, and will go a-hunting like any other man, enduring heat, and thirst, and fatigue. On these occasions, a body of slaves go before, bearing with them the camp equipage, and such of his women as it pleases him to have with him, on a train of camels, which are marvellous tall beasts, having a neck twice as long as a horse, and a great hunch growing out of the midst of their back, as big as a peck. They are covered with wool something like a sheep, and are cloven-footed like them, yet their feet are round, something about the size of a trencher, and soft, so that they can walk equally well on the hard rock or yielding sand. Their strength is very great, for they will carry as much on their backs as four horses, and continue marching at a slow pace for two score hours without meat or rest. Now, it so befell that the Dey bethought him of setting out on a hunting expedition in the mountains, and I among the other slaves set out the day before in the manner that I have described. When we had got into the wild and rugged parts, we made our way to a delightful valley, into which there was only one entry, through a long and narrow gorge, by the side of a mountain torrent. This valley was wholly surrounded by mountain cliffs, whose scarped, inaccessible faces added beauty to the scene, by the veins of colour, blue, green, and red, that ran through them in wavy lines. The valley itself was a verdant garden, watered by the torrent of which I have already spoken, through which it rushed in a series of miniature cascades, sprinkling its mossy and fern-covered banks with sparkling diamonds as it pursued its impetuous course, and ever and anon spreading into broad, quiet pools, that lay smiling in the sunshine. Here we pitched the tents, amidst groves of oleander and palms, on a carpet of flowering plants of every sort and kind, that gladdened both the eye by their rich colours, and the senses by their subtle perfumes; that is, we pitched the pavilion of the Dey, and the tents for his women and their slaves, and raised huts of branches for his immediate servitors; but all the hunters and the guard were posted outside the valley, which could not be entered or departed from, save by the gorge through which we had come. On one side of the stream were the servants and on the other, hidden by the groves, the tents and ground devoted to the women, where no man excepting the Dey might intrude, save at those times when they were confined to the inclosure walled by camelcloth, and guarded without and within. Then we, that is I and the other slaves appointed thereto, worked in the garden, and made art look more natural than nature.

On one of these occasions, overcome by the heat of the sun, I had stolen aside to an inviting thicket of tamarisk, and lay down in the shade to sleep. How long I slept I know not, but I was awakened by women’s voices, and, looking forth, saw that I had slept too long, and the women were disporting themselves in the garden. My position, I need not say, was one of great danger, and brought fear even to my spirit; for I well knew that, were I discovered, I were as good as dead. One shriek from a woman, and I should be instantly cut down by the swords of the guardians of the seraglio, and even if my life were preserved for a few hours, it would only be to die a worse death by the orders of the Dey. Although this fear was ever before me, yet could I not restrain my curiosity to look forth, and creeping forward with the utmost caution, perceived two women walking toward me, one of which that walked before, seemed to be sorrowful, while the other, a slave, seemed to be trying to divert her with cheerful talk. It was clear that the first was a favourite of the Dey’s, for she was dressed in the richest garments of heavy silk, embroidered with pearls, the sash round her waist was shot with gold, gold ornaments hung from her neck and arms, and her hair, plaited into a thousand strings, was one mass of glittering little coins. Dazzling as was the beauty of her dress, no eye that once reached her face could again leave the enchanting view; for her countenance combined all that was most beautiful in feature with a nobility of expression that revealed the rare dignity of her soul. To say that I forgot the danger of my position, that my senses deserted me in the entrancing contemplation of so divine a being, would but poorly express the sentiments I felt. I was like a sparrow feebly fluttering down from his secure perch into the jaws of a jewelled serpent; only the comparison would be unjust, inasmuch as she was as innocent as the dove, nor was she aware of my presence. Just as I was weakly staggering forth from the friendly concealment of my bower to throw myself at her feet, and so consummate my ruin, my good star willed that she should pause, and turning to her companion she said: ‘Zuleika, the sun waxes warm, and my heart is oppressed; leave me for a time to repose in solitude, and perchance I may sleep.’ Her words arrested me for the moment, for they were like the voice of the nightingale complaining for the loss of its beloved; yet hardly had she ceased, and again I was about to go forward before even the back of her slave was turned upon her, when again I was arrested, for she began to recite the following verses, which I made no doubt applied to her own case:

What is there can ever ease me,
Or my gnawing sorrows let?
Would the joys of heaven e’en please me,
If I might not there forget?

Out, cruel Memory, cruel and partial!
Shall peace ne’er be mine again?
Though past joys thou dost remarshal,
In oblivion rests the pain.

Base Enchanter! Sorrows lightened
By half-memories sweet appear:
Happinesses past are brightened,
From all earthly dross made clear.

Art, O Memory, scarce was needed
Glamour o’er the past to shed;
Daily joys, almost unheeded,
Thou recall’st, now they are fled.

Thou recall’st each gentle sorrow--
Salt, that to my jaded taste
Savoured pleasures, when the morrow
Brought new joys and grief displaced.

Ah, sweet Memory! grant, I pray thee
This request: if I may not
Forget past happinesses, may the
Present at least then be forgot.

Hardly had she ceased this lamentation when I threw myself at her feet. She was too amazed at my sudden appearance to cry out, and before she could recover, I had told her in incoherent sentences of my devotion and readiness to risk everything for her sake. She hastily drew her veil over her face, but I could perceive that she was much agitated, for she trembled violently, but at last commanding herself sufficiently, she managed to ask me who I was. I told her that I was a gentleman enslaved by the Dey, a slave like her; and renewed my offers of assistance, forgetting for the moment my sad and powerless state. Whereupon she wept, and warned me of my danger, and, indeed, the danger to both of us if we were discovered. ‘Go,’ she said, ‘my servant may return at any moment; we are at least companions in sorrow, and I will contrive a meeting to-morrow, when we can talk more securely.’ I saw the wisdom of her words, and withdrew to my seclusion. Shortly afterwards the slave girl returned, and they went away together, though not without a parting glance from my mistress in my direction, that was at once a warning to be careful and a reminder that I should meet her again. Then, taking advantage of the overhanging bushes, I slipped into the stream, and diving under water, regained the opposite bank unseen.

On the next day, after our morning work in the garden had been performed, I did not linger behind, as I had done unwittingly before, fearing lest I might be missed, but at midday, when everyone, from the Dey to the meanest of his slaves, was wrapped in slumber, excepting perhaps the guards, I slipped under a bush by the waterside, and gathering some weeds, bound them about my head. Then I floated slowly across, nothing showing above the surface of the water save the weeds, until I arrived at the spot I had left the day before, when I lay down and awaited my mistress. She came, I think, earlier than usual, for the sun was still high though to my eager fancy I had awaited an endless time. Then telling her slave that she felt sleepy, she bade her keep watch within call that no one disturbed her, and hardly had the girl left than I was beside her. She asked me many more questions as to my condition, how long I had been a slave, and how I hoped to escape? And partly in order that I might the better contrive how this might be brought about, as well as to satisfy my curiosity, I begged her to tell me her story, which she obligingly did as follows.

_THE STORY OF UMEIMEH._

I am a native of Maloola, a village situated in some respects similarly to this present spot, for it lies among the mountains which cover the country to the north of Damascus at the mouth of a ravine as narrow, but more terrible, than the gorge through which we came here. Ah! stranger, how the memories of my childhood welled up before me on that occasion. How I pictured to myself my father’s house clinging to the side of the cliff, and again fancied that I saw the figures carved upon the rocks, of men in strange costumes, which I was told represented the sons of our first father Adam. Days past, that, alas! can never come again. How much happiness have I known since, followed by how much sorrow! It is perhaps well that I knew not what was written upon my forehead, or I should have anticipated the dart of Azrael before the appointed time.

In this beautiful village I grew up tending my father’s goats in the day-time among the mountains, while in the evening I assisted my mother in her household duties. One day, as I was resting during the noontide heat in one of the numberless tombs with which the mountains are honeycombed, I heard the loose stones rolling outside, and presently a youth entered and seated himself to rest. In some fear as to whom the intruder might prove to be, I instantly retreated to the further end of the tomb, which was in complete darkness, and whence I could scan at my leisure the figure of the newcomer. I saw at once that he was a youth of consideration such as I had never seen before, whether in my own or in neighbouring villages. He was richly dressed in the silks of Damascus, and was evidently on a hunting expedition in our mountains. But since his dress proclaimed him to be a gentleman, I felt reassured, and was, I confess, greatly taken with his face, which was at once handsome and engaging. As I continued to contemplate him from my safe retreat in the darkness, and wonder when he would leave me at liberty to escape, he shifted his position slightly, when to my horror I saw that he had disturbed a sleeping snake, one of the most venomous known to me, which was already rising up on its coils preparatory to striking him. In the darkness he could not see it, nor did he move, and in another moment he would have been as good as dead, but, before I knew what I did, I dashed forward and broke its back with my crook; thus unwittingly revealing my presence to his amazed sight. He started up, and laid his hand upon his sword, but when he saw that I was merely a girl, he looked at me inquiringly as to what my sudden action might portend. I pointed to the dead snake at his feet, whereupon he saw at once what had happened, and drawing me forward to the mouth of the tomb so that he could see me, kissed the hem of my garment, and thanked me in a few honest words that went straight to my heart, so that I forgot in my pleasure that he was a stranger, and only his glance of admiration reminded me that my veil was not drawn over my face. In haste and confusion I covered it, and was about to fly from his presence, when he seized my hand, and lifting it to his forehead, besought me to let him know to whom he was indebted for his life? I told him my name, and my father’s name, whereupon he let me depart, and I went out into the blaze of sunshine to gather together my scattered flock, all the time thinking over my adventure with the handsome stranger, whose face and mien and expression I found for ever haunting my imagination. This was a new experience to me. I had heard many stories and poems during the long winter evenings which mostly turned upon the passion of love, and the extravagances which two mortals will affect to win to one another, and I wondered whether this that I felt within myself could be that passion? For, every day, as I led my flocks to their pasture, my thoughts would recur to this youth until his imaginary presence became a sort of companion to me, so rarely was his image absent from my memory. One day not long afterwards, my mother bade me prepare for marriage, and she was sufficiently acquainted with the curiosity of her sex to inform me that my intended husband was both young and handsome, and one of the richest merchants of Damascus to boot. I need not tell you that I immediately became the heroine of our village, the object of envy of all the girls, regret of many, if not of all the youths, and dislike of the matrons. Indeed, I would thoroughly have enjoyed the triumph of my position had it not been for the memory of the bold unknown who had dared to speak to me and to steal away my heart on that sultry day in the cave on the mountain-side. What could I do, however, but obey my parents and prepare for marriage, except sigh in solitude for what might have been? You will readily imagine my joy, therefore, when I saw at the ceremony of marriage, that my future husband was no other than the unknown whose life I had saved in the cavern. In due course I received magnificent presents; and on a certain Thursday night, after the preliminary ceremonies, I was conducted under a crimson canopy to my husband’s temporary residence. The unveiling brought no fears of disappointment to me, for I knew that my husband had seen and loved me before. We took leave of my parents after a short period of blissful happiness, and removed to my husband’s home at Damascus. Every day he would sit in his shop in the merchants’ bazaar, and after he had bought and sold, he would return home and we would take the evening meal together, after which we would resort to one of the public gardens of the town, where, sitting by the flowing waters, amidst the whispering trees, where the nightingale still sang his praises to the rose, we would enjoy the cool fragrance of the evening, and, hand linked in hand, our souls would commune together without any necessity for words. In this pure enjoyment we subsisted for some time until it became necessary for my husband to depart with a caravan of merchandise to Balsora. He took leave of me with many touching expressions of love: and I, who had never yet since our marriage been parted from him, could hardly bear the thought of separation. I besought him to remain with me, alleging my foolish fears for my loneliness. Are we not rich enough, I said, for you to give over your travels in order that you may enjoy what you have? But he only smiled and kissed me, saying that he would be away but a few months, and then, _Inshallah!_ he might think of what I had said. He bade me be of good cheer, but I was full of forebodings that I should never see him more; forebodings which he laughed to scorn, but which, alas! proved only too true.

Now the Wali of Damascus was a notorious evil liver who had not the fear of God before his eyes. No justice was to be had from him for the poor man, and his hand was heavy on the province, so insatiable was he in his extortion. Nor was it any use for the inhabitants to complain, for he was liberal in his bribes to those above him, and the more he had to pay away in bribes, the more eager was he to replenish his coffers by grinding the faces of his wretched people. Unfortunately for my happiness, my reputed beauty had come to the ears of this man, and he ardently desired to gain possession of me. Having learnt that my husband was about to take a journey, he disguised some of his Janissaries as Bedouins, and putting himself at the head of them, fell upon the caravan suddenly and at night, a time when the real Bedouin but rarely attacks. My husband was slain, and his servants put to flight, but one, more faithful than the rest, concealed himself at a little distance, and when the murderers had retired, returned, bringing with him the corpse of my husband. Then the news spread fast that the Bedouins had attacked and had scattered the caravan, and the Wali as in duty bound came to inquire into the facts, for, of course, he was responsible for the safety of travellers. He came into the mandarah, where the corpse was laid out with the face turned towards Meccah, and surrounded by weeping women, wailing and casting dust upon their heads, while holy men were reciting verses from the Koran. I was watching the Wali from behind my veil when he entered with the cadi and his other officers. He pretended to be much moved, but I could see that he was ill at ease: his looks were troubled, not as by grief, but as if he feared the avenger’s stroke. Suddenly my husband’s mother, who had been sitting by her son’s corpse wailing and never taking her eyes off those loved features, knowing that in another hour he would be buried, gave a great cry and started upon her feet. All turned and looked, and behold! two dark streams of blood were flowing from the wounds towards the Wali, and all knew that he was the murderer. He left abruptly, bidding us bury the body at once, nor did we dare to accuse him of the murder, and if we had, it would have been useless. Long afterwards, I questioned a learned Hakim how it was possible that a body once cold should bleed afresh when in the presence of the murderer, as if to cry out before God against him who made the wound and divorced the soul from the body, and he explained to me that by the virtue contained within the hidden recesses of the corpse, the humours, and especially those of the blood and of the bile, are moved and stirred within it, insomuch that by a certain secret movement of Nature, not readily to be understood, this interior virtue seems to require vengeance. Thereupon, suddenly the bilious humour is stirred by a certain virtue appertaining to the blood, and is moved and leaps within the vessels because of the swiftness and promptitude of its movement. This humour, then, being moved and inflamed, the blood is liquefied and runs forth at the wound, which is the proper gate to show itself at. The vaporous spirit contained within the blood then suddenly directs it straight towards the murderer, especially should he look upon the corpse with attention, which act causes the blood to swell within the wound by reason of that wonderful and hidden motion by which the blood excites its spiritual essence, and reciprocally, the spirits move the blood, so that it flows once more. This shows the unreason of those, who, without knowledge, philosophy, or science, would argue that the spirit of one slain lingers for a while within the body, so weighed down is it by the desire of vengeance, and hence, when the murderer approaches, it becomes suddenly inflamed with anger, the blood is heated, and again flows from the wound; while at the same time all the spirits of the various parts fly together by virtue of their natural legerity, and straightway being directed by the animosity of the soul, force the blood in the direction of the murderer.

Be this as it may be, however, it was clear that the Wali was much disturbed at this public evidence of his crime, and especially that it had occurred in my presence: and, indeed, if it had been possible for me to hate him worse than I already did, that would have made me do so. After the funeral I remained in my house, not going forth for the space of about a year, during which time my sole consolation was the hearing of praises of my dead husband from his mother’s lips. She gave me his history from his childhood upwards, enlarging upon the perfection of his understanding and the strength of his lion-like heart, whence she would commonly digress into the character of his father, her husband, in whom, it seemed, had dwelt every virtue that it was possible for man to have: fit father of so noble a son! When we had no more to say, we broke out into sobs and tears together, which would relieve the black humours from our veins and enable us to pass through the tedium of another day. At length an old woman of our acquaintance called upon us, and after condoling with me for a while upon my widowhood, she said: ‘But, after all, it is not good for women, neither is it respectable, that a young woman like yourself should live unmarried and without the care of a husband;’ and then she began the praises of the Wali, who, she said, was a man of power to whom no parent in Damascus would hesitate to give his daughter and feel highly honoured at the chance. ‘Nevertheless,’ she went on, ‘there is only one who can command his heart: the report of thy beauty has penetrated to his ears, and he desires only thee. What reply shall I make to him on thy behalf?’ I do not know what reply I should have given, what torrent of abuse I should have poured out in the fury of the moment, had not prudence come to my aid in time for me to check myself. I got rid of her as best I could by some excuse such as that I required time to think over so important an offer, and as soon as she was gone gave free vent to the grief and passion that consumed me at the memory of the murder of my husband and the cynical effrontery of his murderer in demanding my hand. When I had calmed somewhat, and could think over the situation, my thoughts chased each other confusedly through my head. I could think no course of action out, only one idea stood clearly before me: that of intense, bitter, and undying hatred to the man who now sought me in marriage. In marriage! Heavens! Was not this the hand of Allah who now threw this man into my power? My husband’s blood still cried aloud for vengeance, and, behold! after all these months the sword of retribution was placed in my hand, and blood could be made to flow for blood! My mind was made up, I grew calm and collected. In place of the whirl of confused thoughts, but one, clear and unalterable, stood forth in my mind, like the chiselled images we see upon the rocks. When the old woman called again the next day, I managed to express a due sense of the honour that the Wali conferred upon me by his choice, nor was it long after that before I found myself his wife. Oh! how I loathed the man! As he lifted my veil, my hand closed around the hilt of the tempered blade that lay hidden in my bosom. For a moment he stood aghast at the face he saw, a basilisk rather than a woman, in another moment my dagger was plunged into his black heart, and he fell dead at my feet.

Leisurely I went to the box at the side of the room and arrayed myself in male garments, over which I threw a woman’s cloak, and drawing my veil over my face, went out by the back door, and mingling with the festive crowd in the courtyard slipped out unnoticed into the street. I had only one sensation, that of joy that my husband’s blood was now avenged, and by me! For myself I neither thought nor cared whither I turned my steps. In a few minutes, I rejoiced to think, my vengeance would be discovered and it would be known that that vengeance was mine; but I should be sought for high and low, and I did not choose that they should find me so easily. Throwing aside my woman’s cloak, I passed along in the shadow of the walls and as much out of the brilliant light of the moon as was possible, and hurried along the labyrinth of streets. Then, in the silence of the night, I heard distant cries and the sound of horsemen, and knew that the Wali had been found and that his guards were even now searching the town for me. How I hugged myself for joy! But my vengeance would be more complete if they were unable to find me, and there was no time to be lost. Seeing an open door, I went inside, and casting myself at the feet of an aged lady whom I found sitting there, and kissing the hem of her robe, I begged her to save me from the avengers of blood. Without a word she rose up, and taking me by the hand led me to a spot in the courtyard. Then she pressed a particular stone in the wall, which turned on a pivot and disclosed a hidden staircase. Down this she led me to an underground chamber, magnificently furnished, decorated in gold and ultramarine, and lighted by a silver lamp that hung from the ceiling. I had arrived at my hiding place none too soon. Whether someone had noticed me and had notified to the guards the direction in which I had gone, I do not know; but, in any case, they were very soon at the entrance of the alley in which my protectress had her dwelling. Across this they drew a guard, and then proceeded to search every house. That of my protectress was the last searched, but my hiding place remained undiscovered; indeed, the searchers merely spoke to the lady for a short time and then looked carelessly around. When they were gone, she called to me to come forth from my chamber. Her tone was hard, and her features were changed. ‘Woe to thee, unlucky one,’ she cried; ‘’tis well for thee that thou art under my protection! The pursuers are gone. Him thou hast slain was my son! What fate was it that made thee seek my hospitality? Go now, go in peace, but never let me see thy countenance again!’ I fell at her feet and thanked her, but she only motioned to me to leave her, and I went forth into the night, saddened at the mother’s grief and wondering at the magnanimity which had restrained her from delivering up the slayer of her son, even though she had claimed her hospitality. Nevertheless, my case was a parlous one. Whither should I go? I dared not return to my village, or even pass through places that were peopled, nor could I hide in the mountains, for there I should starve. There was nothing for it but to throw myself upon the hospitality of the Bedouin who were beyond the power of the Governor of Damascus. I made my way, therefore, towards the desert, hiding by day and only travelling by night, my sustenance being the fruit I could steal, and even that failed me as soon as I got away from the watered lands. Then I travelled more boldly in the day-time and was able to buy goat’s milk from the goatherds whom I came across, until after the third day I came upon the black tents of the Arabs, and going up to the Sheikh I claimed the hospitality due to a stranger. I was soon, however, given to understand that I was a prisoner. My fine clothes were demanded from me, and shabby old ones were given me in their stead, my money was taken, and, by an unlucky accident, my sex was discovered by which my fate was sealed. When the tribe moved southwards I was sent to a slave dealer who did business at Jaffa, where I was embarked for Constantinople, but the Moorish pirates, who cared little whether they robbed friend or foe, Turk or Christian, seized our vessel, and I was chosen by our present master as part of his share of the plunder.

Having finished her story, Umeimeh urged upon me that it was no longer safe to remain. I begged her, however, that she would vouchsafe to me a minute or two more in order that we might think of some means of escape together: for indeed at the first moment that I had set eyes on her, I had seen how valuable an aid she might prove to me. The danger of our meeting was too great to venture on often, and now that we were together it was better to take the risk of a longer stay than the greater risk of another meeting. As for the punishment were we caught! the thought alone was too horrible to be pursued. After several plans, which, alas! we found to be too dangerous or altogether impossible to effect, she spoke as follows: ‘Know, oh, my Rustem, that it is the custom of the Dey after the evening meal to sit awhile with some of his women, who relate stories, or discourse music, or recite poetry while he carouses. Now I have thought of a plan to gain his seal ring from him, which, _Inshallah_, I shall put into effect on the night that he returns from the hunt. If I am successful, I will hang a white handkerchief from the bush, and when you see it you will come and bring me across the river. If, however, it is written that I shall fail, you will never hear of me again.’ Upon this I kissed her hand, and with a heavy heart hid again in the bush while my would-be deliverer called her slave and departed. Then I slipped back in the way I had come, and by the mercy of God, was perceived by nobody. On the following evening the Dey returned from hunting, and as the shades of dusk fell and the slaves retired to their quarters, I watched with fear and trembling for the sign which should warn me of perils to be encountered or of the death of Umeimeh. The sickening tortures which I should suffer were I discovered weighed nothing in the balance with the hope of freedom that danced before my eyes, and I even ventured to address the head Syce, warning him that two of the swiftest horses were to be ready to execute the commands of his lord. How slow the moments dragged along! How my heart palpitated with fears and hopes! What could I say as to the order for the horses if I failed to obtain the seal ring of the Dey? What means would Umeimeh adopt to get the ring? Even if she won it, would she escape the vigilance of the guardians of the hareem? And if she did, might not the Dey himself discover how he had been robbed--and then!--Oh, merciful Providence! It is easy for me to sit here in my cabinet writing the account of that eventful night, and for thee, O reader, to read what I have written, but neither can I indite nor thou comprehend the torture of that time or the awful consequences that the slightest accident might have caused. At length, and perhaps hardly to my relief, so highly strung were my nerves, I saw the signal displayed. I slipped into the water, and had scarcely gained the opposite bank when I found Umeimeh awaiting me. ‘Fly,’ she cried; ‘I have the ring, but we have but a few hours before all will be known and we pursued!’ Then I carried her across, and when we had landed I perceived that she was in the garb of one of the Dey’s guard, and had also brought a like dress for me. When I had put it on, we glided through the trees to the head of the pass and, going up to the guard, showed him the ring, enjoined silence, and asked for the horses on service of the Dey. No one dared speak a word; the horses were brought, and silently mounting, we dashed off downwards towards the coast.

It was early night and we met no one, for even after we had passed in our headlong career the wilds of the mountain, the people of the villages through which we travelled were all asleep. As dawn began to break the need of rest and food pressed upon us; and happening to light upon a cavern a little to one side of the road, we thought it as well to withdraw therein. For although we had the seal ring of the Dey with us, and were safe until our flight should be brought to his notice, yet it was as well to leave as little trace behind us of the direction and the manner of our flight as possible. Having tethered our horses, we opened the saddle-bags which I had been careful to provide, and took our breakfast; and since it was necessary to give our horses an hour or two’s rest, I desired Umeimeh to give me the relation of her adventure in obtaining the ring, which she did as follows.

‘You must know,’ said she, ‘that it is customary for his majesty the Dey to take his supper in the company of his favourite wife, surrounded by all the luxury that the circumstances of such an expedition as his present one can afford. Last evening he summoned his favourite as usual, one Detma, whom I had bribed to feign that she was ill, for it was necessary to my plan that I should be called. Accordingly I attended him in his spacious dining tent which was lit up with a thousand lights, and in one corner was a band of women discoursing sweet music on the Kemengeh, ’Ood, Ney, and Kanoon, while slaves handed the dishes, and when we had eaten our fill, placed the dried fruits before us and filled our cups. The Dey had had a successful hunt and his heart was dilated; he drained his cup in pledging me, and then said: “Oh, Umeimeh, call forth the most skilled among my slaves that she may divert us with her lute.” Upon this I ordered them to call Helwa, a beautiful girl, who brought with her in a silken bag her lute, all inlaid with ivory and ebony and sandalwood, and, after an obeisance to the Dey, she seated herself and said: “Oh, my lord, what will it please you that I sing? Something of the chase, or of war, or of love?” Thereupon the Dey laughed, and replied: “Oh, sweet one of many songs, sing me something of love, for women delight not in the chase or in war.” Then, after a prelude, she sang as follows:

Come, come away!
My love, see how the moon on high
Doth light our path; fly with me, fly!
To where my tents and people lie;
Sweet love, away!

Nay, nay, oh, stay!
Alas! I dare not go, I fear
To leave my home: oh, stay, love, here!
Bid me not leave all I hold dear!
Must we needs go?

Yea, even so.
Oh, let not fear true love dissever!
Thou lovest, we are one for ever.
Then trust me, love, come with me, never
Again to part.

Be still, my heart!
My heart doth hold me on the rack,
It bids me go, yet holds me back,
To follow thee, and stay, alack!
Which shall I do?

To love be true!
Love asketh not where it shall go,
It hath no thought for fabled woe;
There is but one thing love doth know:
How to be true!

‘The Dey was delighted with the song, and ordered the girl’s mouth to be filled with sweetmeats. Then other slaves sang some more songs until he was satisfied, and after the servants had brought more wine, he bade everyone retire. For a while he sat drinking and conversing with me, so that the wine dilated his bosom, and taking up a cup, he put it to his lips and then gave it to me, and I drank it. Then I filled another cup and putting into it a lozenge of bhang, enough if an elephant were to take it to make it drop down senseless, I put the cup to my lips, and pledging him, said: “Oh, my lord, drink this, and gladden the heart of thy slave.” Whereupon he took it from me and drank, and scarcely had the wine reached his stomach when he fell back senseless and without motion. Then I placed him upon his bed and drew the ring from his finger, and, donning the dress of his guard, I lifted up a corner of the tent and passed out, scarcely believing in my escape, and, by the mercy of Allah, I met no one that knew my face. The rest you know: I displayed my signal, and you saw it and conveyed me across the stream.’

We now thought it better to press on, as our horses were rested, and in these parts there were no villages or inhabitants to see us go by. Leaving the beaten track, we journeyed on until we again neared a village, which we dared not pass in the daylight for fear lest those who were doubtlessly already in pursuit of us might chance to come that way and gain tidings of the direction in which we had gone. We therefore turned aside into a wood that lay not far off, and, tethering our horses, slept for a while. When it was become dusk, we rode forward to the port of Cherchel which was not far off, and, turning neither to the right nor the left, we went straight to one of the Dey’s vessels that lay in the harbour there ready for sailing. I called the captain aside, saying that I had somewhat of moment to communicate to him, and, going down into the cabin together, when we were alone, I showed him the Dey’s seal ring, and informed him that I was on a particular mission, and that he was to set sail at once. The captain was greatly surprised, and, after a moment’s thought, he whispered to me, asking me if I had any news of the two runaway slaves? Concealing my perturbation, I put my finger on my lips and bade him loose sail at once. In a few minutes all was hurry on board, the sailors running to and fro, and within a short time we were drawing fast through the water. I felt tolerably safe, for it was plain that he did not suspect us, and that, though our escape was known, yet the Dey had thought fit to conceal the loss of his seal ring, which otherwise might have been a great danger to me. But still it was better to learn all that the captain knew, and therefore when we were well clear from the land I again called him down into his cabin and made a show of taking him into my confidence, saying that I was commissioned by the Dey to pursue the fugitives of whose departure for France I had had knowledge, and asking him how far the news was known? For that I feared that they might have heard and so have been put upon their guard. ‘I only know,’ he replied, ‘that a few hours ago a courier arrived here who informed the Governor of the escape of a Christian slave together with a woman from the royal seraglio. It was thought that they could not get far and would soon be starved out from their hiding place.’ I nodded once or twice at these words, and then shaking my head said: ‘Yea, but they are away already. This accursed Christian had planned his escape well; they are now in an open boat making their way to Italy. But I and my young brother know them well, and, _Inshallah_, we shall overtake them before they are able to reach land.’ The wind held good, and we sailed fast in the direction that I had ordered the captain to take, that is to say, towards the town of Massiglia belonging to the kingdom of France, nor did this excite his fears although it was further than they usually ventured, for it was in that direction, as I informed him, that the fugitives intended to go. Nevertheless I was in doubt as to the wisdom of what I had ordered, for if we sailed near into the port that I had named, and did not find the fugitives, which, indeed, was not to be expected, seeing that we ourselves were they, I could hardly prevent the captain from turning back to Cherchel. While debating this point in my mind, I nevertheless felt confident of success, for we were not suspected, and even if the sex of Umeimeh were discovered, I could explain that she was my wife whom I did not wish to appear to carry with me, for I had so thoroughly imbued him with the idea that the fugitives were in an open boat that I felt he could never suspect us to be the runaway slaves of whom he had been informed.