XIV
HOURS OF WAITING
It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of hisenthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact andchronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragicoutcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect thatway--I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort!Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown byrecalling such memories.
One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters thatChatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. Bythe light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great blackdesert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh!the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all thoseletters, I said to him in a trembling voice:
"Go on."
He acquiesced without further words.
"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day whenthe Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when Ifound myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was thatthe thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enterinto this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire forthe event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons fromAntinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from thisdelay, arose my unhealthy exasperation.
"Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do notthink so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren'tyou ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are nottrying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forwardto your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, toenjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might havegiven--unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vagueuneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire toknow that he was well and safe.
"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves ofAntinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The womenwere hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya andAguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could notendure _kouskous_ of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind ofinformation, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. WithTanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distastefor mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea.Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with adoglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if Ipronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange.
"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinisterpuppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman ofJitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligenceremained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he hadinvoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridorsthat had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thickvoice a couplet from the music of _La Reine Hortense_.
_De ma fille IsabelleSois l'epoux a l'instant,Car elle est la plus belleEt toi, le plus vaillant_.
"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the oldskinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placidprinter of labels for the red marble hall,--how could I meet himwithout wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a verycurious case of apocope: [Greek: Atlantinea]. Suppression of _alpha_,of _tau_ and of _lambda_! I would like to direct your attention toanother case as curious: [Greek: klementinea], Clementine. Apocope of_kappa_, of _lamba_, of _epsilon_ and of _mu_. If Morhange were withus, he would tell you many charming erudite things about it. But,alas! Morhange does not deign to come among us any more. We never seeMorhange.'
"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception fromRosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polishedso often as during those days of waiting! Now--after six years--shemust be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she wasvery partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless againstthose that I brought her and that I emptied with her, throughpoliteness.
"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkeyby the merchants of Rhat, she was born in Constantinople and had beenbrought into Africa by her master when he became _kaimakam_ ofRhadames.... But don't let me complicate this already wanderinghistory by the incantations of this manicure.
"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter ofEl-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemama, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the greatand noble tribe of Kel-Rhela. She was born in the year twelve hundredand eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one.Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in thisAhaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi,and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid toTouat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might havelived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But sheprefers to have them come to her.'
"'Cegheir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirelydevoted to her?'
"'Nobody here knows Cegheir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he iscontinually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted toAntinea. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousinof the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, he owes his life to her. He isone of the men who assassinated the great Kebir Flatters. On accountof that, Ikenoukhen, _amenokol_ of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing Frenchreprisals, wanted to deliver Cegheir-ben-Cheikh to them. When thewhole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea.Cegheir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observesthe law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was thentwenty years old, three French officers of the first troops ofoccupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the redmarble hall, 1, 2, and 3.'
"'And Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his dutiessuccessfully?'
"'Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara asI know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he mademistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old LeMesge and marabout Spardek.'
"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?'
"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them.Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he hasnever made a mistake.'
"'He has never made a mistake?'
"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has broughthere. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whomthey brought to me the other day, after you were here, is thehandsomest of all.'
"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared themtheir lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?'
"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then,whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French wouldsoon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they wouldmassacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Cegheir-ben-Cheikh hasbrought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeingAntinea.'
"'She keeps them a long time?'
"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Twomonths, three months, on the average. It depends. A big Belgianofficer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the otherhand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an Englishofficer: she kept him almost a year.'
"'And then?'
"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at myquestion.
"'Of what did he die?'
"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge:
"'Like all the others: of love.
"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see thattheir time is ended, and that Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has gone to findothers. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. Theyneither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. Allnight, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoedthrough the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened:he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died o
f_kif_, a _kif_ that is more violent than opium. When they no longerhave Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... thehappiest. Little Kaine died differently.'
"'How did little Kaine die?'
"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayedlonger among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. InAntinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold,there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, veryheavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine hisdismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her,mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. ATarga slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and theTarga lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all thetime. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eludingguards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet.The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatestdifficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have onlyto go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marblehall.'
"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass.
"'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, forthis was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had writtensomething in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.'
"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'
"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the windowthrough which the English officer had hurled himself, would havekilled me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thoughtwas in my heart.
"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'whenAntinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, doesshe not? Nobody sees him any more?'
The old woman shook her head.
"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded.Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back toher immediately.'
"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....'
"The Negress smiled comprehendingly.
"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain nearher. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.'
"I struck my fist violently upon the table.
"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!'
"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her littleinstruments.
"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'
"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing myway, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushedopen the door of the red marble hall. I entered.
"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be sosinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of runningwater. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One daybefore an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waitingfor the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that weleap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. Ilistened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shadein the transparent water, the little beasts, the little black fish,the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of wateralways has carried me out of myself.
"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the darkcascade. It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst ofthese rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26.It was he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh,September 21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight.He wasn't even twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat oforichalch. His mouth sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Pooryoungster.--Edinburgh,--I knew Edinburgh, without ever having beenthere. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills."Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anneof Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the foldof the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises fromamong them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live withmy aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When heleft for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh aMiss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slipsof girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, howevermade for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And herewas number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks ofthe Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also.
"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marblehall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues!Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may bemultiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless asbeautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witnessthat I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession,this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for thesake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant,to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremblebefore them?
"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. Insix months, eight, perhaps,--what difference anyway?--I shall behoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, afinished body.
"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. Whata child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I wasjealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, bejealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, whowill come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still emptyniches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it isto me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening,in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. Ishall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will bemy turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love.
"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in thelibrary, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the peoplewho were assembled there.
"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuaregslaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference.
"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so manypeople who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other.
"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountaininto uproar.
"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to theWest, in Adhar Ahnet.
"As soon as Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go tomeet them.
"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing.
"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt.
"For the first time, Antinea was in love."