Part 16

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.