XVII
If Victoria Ray had accepted Nevill Caird's invitation to be LadyMacGregor's guest and his, at Djenan el Djouad, many things might havebeen different. But she had wished to be independent, and had chosen togo to the Hotel de la Kasbah.
When she went down to dinner in the _salle a manger_, shortly afterseven o'clock on the evening of her arrival, only two other tables wereoccupied, for it was late in the season, and tourists were leavingAlgiers.
No one who had been on board the _Charles Quex_ was there, and Victoriasaw that she was the only woman in the room. At one table sat a happyparty of Germans, apparently dressed from head to foot by Dr. Jaeger,and at another were two middle-aged men who had the appearance ofcommercial travellers. By and by an elderly Jew came in, and dinner hadreached the stage of peppery mutton ragout, when the door opened again.Victoria's place was almost opposite, and involuntarily, she glanced up.The handsome Arab who had crossed from Marseilles on the boat salutedher with grave courtesy as he met her look, and passed on, casting downhis eyes. He was shown to a table at some distance, the manner of theArab waiter who conducted him being so impressive, that Victoria wassure the newcomer must be a person of importance.
He was beautifully dressed, as before, and the Germans stared at himfrankly, but he did not seem to be aware of their existence. Specialdishes arrived for him, and evidently he had been expected.
There was but one waiter to serve the meal, and not only did he somewhatneglect the other diners for the sake of the latest arrival, but thelandlord appeared, and stood talking with the Arab while he ate, with anair of respect and consideration.
The Germans, who had nearly finished their dinner when Victoria came in,now left the table, using their toothpicks and staring with theopen-eyed interest of children at the picturesque figure near the door.The commercial travellers and the Jew followed. Victoria also was readyto go, when the landlord came to her table, bowing.
"Mademoiselle," he said, in French, "I am charged with a message from anArab gentleman of distinction, who honours my house by his presence.Sidi Maieddine ben el Hadj Messaoud is the son of an Agha, and thereforehe is a lord, and Mademoiselle need have no uneasiness that he wouldcondescend to an indiscretion. He instructs me to present his respectfulcompliments to Mademoiselle, whom he saw on the ship which brought himhome, after carrying through a mission in France. Seeing thatMademoiselle travelled alone, and intends perhaps to continue doing so,according to the custom of her courageous and intelligent countrywomen,Sidi Maieddine wishes to say that, as a person who has influence in hisown land, he would be pleased to serve Mademoiselle, if she would honourhim by accepting his offer in the spirit in which it is made: that is,as the chivalrous service of a gentleman to a lady. He will not dream ofaddressing Mademoiselle, unless she graciously permits."
As the landlord talked on, Victoria glanced across the room at the Arab,and though his eyes were bent upon his plate, he seemed to feel thegirl's look, as if by a kind of telepathy, instantly meeting it withwhat seemed to her questioning eyes a sincere and disarming gaze.
"Tell Sidi Maieddine ben el Hadj Messaoud that I thank him," sheanswered, rewarded for her industry in keeping up French, which shespoke fluently, with the Parisian accent she had caught as a child inParis. "It is possible that he can help me, and I should be glad to talkwith him."
"In that case Si Maieddine would suggest that Mademoiselle grant him ashort interview in the private sitting-room of my wife, Madame Constant,who will be honoured," the fat man replied promptly. "It would not bewise for Mademoiselle to be seen by strangers talking with thedistinguished gentleman, whose acquaintance she is to make. This,largely for her own sake; but also for his, or rather, for the sake ofcertain diplomatic interests which he is appointed to carry out.Officially, he is supposed to have left Algiers to-day. And it is by hispermission that I mention the matter to Mademoiselle."
"I will do whatever you think best," said Victoria, who was too glad ofthe opportunity to worry about conventionalities. She was so young, andinexperienced in the ways of society, that a small transgression againstsocial laws appeared of little importance to a girl situated as she was.
"Would the time immediately after dinner suit Mademoiselle, for SiMaieddine to pay his respects?"
Victoria answered that she would be pleased to talk with Si Maieddine assoon as convenient to him, and Monsieur Constant hurried away to preparehis wife. While he was absent the Arab did not again look at Victoria,and she understood that this reserve arose from delicacy. Her heartbegan to beat, and she felt that the way to her sister might be openingat last. The fact that she did feel this, made her tell herself that itmust be true. Instinct was not given for nothing!
She thought, too, of Stephen Knight. He would be glad to-morrow, whenmeeting her at luncheon in his friend's house, to hear good news.Already she had been to see Jeanne Soubise, in the curiosity-shop, andhad bought a string of amber prayer-beads. She had got an introductionto the Governor from the American Consul, whom she had visited beforeunpacking, lest the consular office should be closed for the day; andshe had obtained an appointment at the palace for the next morning; butall that was not much to tell Mr. Knight. It seemed to her that even ina few hours she ought to have accomplished more. Now, however, the keyof the door which opened into the golden silence might be waiting forher hand.
In three or four minutes the landlord came back, and begged to show herhis wife's _petit salon_. This time as she passed the Arab she bowed,and gave him a grateful smile. He rose, and stood with his head slightlybent until she had gone out, remaining in the dining-room until thelandlord returned to say that he was expected by Mademoiselle.
"Remember," Si Maieddine said in Arabic to the fat man, "everybody is tobe discreet, now and later. I shall see that all are rewarded forobedience."
"Thou art considerate, even of the humblest," replied the half-breed,using the word "thou," as all Arabs use it. "Thy presence is an honourfor my house, and all in it is thine."
Si Maieddine--who had never been in the Hotel de la Kasbah before, andwould not have considered it worthy of his patronage if he had not hadan object in coming--allowed himself to be shown the door of MadameConstant's salon. On the threshold, the landlord retired, and the youngman was hardly surprised to find, on entering, that Madame was not inthe room.
Victoria was there alone; but free from self-consciousness as she alwayswas, she received Si Maieddine without embarrassment. She saw no reasonto distrust him, just because he was an Arab.
Now, how glad she was that she had learned Arabic! She began to speakdiffidently at first, stammering and halting a little, because, thoughshe could read the language well after nine years of constant study,only once had she spoken with an Arab;--a man in New York from whom shehad had a few lessons. Having learned what she could of the accent fromphrase-books, her way had been to talk to herself aloud. But the flashof surprised delight which lit up the dark face told her that SiMaieddine understood.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "My best hope was that French might comeeasily to thy lips, as I have little English."
"I have a sister married to one of thy countrymen," Victoria explainedat once. "I do not know where she is living, and it is in finding out,that I need help. Even on the ship I wished to ask thee if thou hadstknowledge of her husband, but to speak then seemed impossible. It is afortunate chance that thou shouldst have come to this hotel, for I thinkthou wilt do what thou canst for me." Then she went on and told him thather sister was the wife of Captain Cassim ben Halim, who had once livedin Algiers.
Si Maieddine who had dropped his eyes as she spoke of the fortunatechance which had brought him to the hotel, listened thoughtfully andwith keen attention to her story, asking no questions, yet showing hisinterest so plainly that Victoria was encouraged to go on.
"Didst thou ever hear the name of Cassim ben Halim?" she asked.
"Yes, I have heard it," the Arab replied. "I have friends who knew him.And I myself have seen Cassim ben Halim."
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"Thou hast seen him!" Victoria cried, clasping her hands tightlytogether. She longed to press them over her heart, which was like a birdbeating its wings against the bars of a cage.
"Long ago. I am much younger than he."
"Yes, I see that," Victoria answered. "But thou knewest him! That issomething. And my sister. Didst thou ever hear of her?"
"We of the Mussulman faith do not speak of the wives of our friends,even when our friends are absent. Yet--I have a relative in Algiers whomight know something, a lady who is no longer young. I will go to herto-night, and all that is in her heart she will tell me. She has livedlong in Algiers; and always when I come, I pay her my respects. But,there is a favour I would beg in return for any help I can give, andwill give gladly. I am supposed to be already on my way south, to finisha diplomatic mission, and, for reasons connected with the Frenchgovernment, I have had to make it appear that I started to-day with myservant. There is also a reason, connected with Si Cassim, which makesit important that nothing I may do should be known to thy Europeanfriends. It is for his sake especially that I ask thy silence; andwhatsoever might bring harm to him--if he be still upon the earth--wouldalso harm thy sister. Wilt thou give me thy word, O White Rose ofanother land, that thou wilt keep thine own counsel?"
"I give thee my word--and with it my trust," said the girl.
"Then I swear that I will not fail thee. And though until I have seen mycousin I cannot speak positively, yet I think what I can do will be morethan any other could. Wilt thou hold thyself free of engagements withthy European friends, until I bring news?"
"I have promised to lunch to-morrow with people who have been kind, butrather than risk a delay in hearing from thee, I will send word that Iam prevented from going."
"Thou hast the right spirit, and I thank thee for thy good faith. But itmay be well not to send that message. Thy friends might think itstrange, and suspect thee of hiding something. It is better to give nocause for questionings. Go then, to their house, but say nothing ofhaving met me, or of any new hope in thine heart. Yet let the hoperemain, and be to thee like the young moon that riseth over the desert,to show the weary traveller a rill of sweet water in an oasis of datepalms. And now I will bid thee farewell, with a night of dreams in whichthy dearest desires shall be fulfilled before thine eyes. I go to mycousin, on thy business."
"Good night, Sidi. Henceforth my hope is in thee." Victoria held out herhand, and Si Maieddine clasped it, bowing with the courtesy of his race.He was nearer to her than he had been before, and she noticed a perfumewhich hung about his clothing, a perfume that seemed to her like theEast, heavy and rich, suggestive of mystery and secret things. Itbrought to her mind what she had read about harems, and beautiful,languid women, yet it suited Si Maieddine's personality, and somehow didnot make him seem effeminate.
"See," he said, in the poetic language which became him as hisembroidered clothes and the haunting perfume became him; "see, how thinehand lies in mine like a pearl that has dropped into the hollow of anautumn leaf. But praise be to Allah, autumn and I are yet far apart. Iam in my summer, as thou, lady, art in thine early spring. And I vowthat thou shalt never regret confiding thy hand to my hand, thy trust tomy loyalty."
As he spoke, he released her fingers gently, and turning, went out ofthe room without another word or glance.
When he had gone, Victoria stood still, looking at the door which SiMaieddine had shut noiselessly.
If she had not lived during all the years since Saidee's last letter, inthe hope of some such moment as this, she would have felt that she hadcome into a world of romance, as she listened to the man of the East,speaking the language of the East. But she had read too many Arabictales and poems to find his speech strange. At school, her studies ofher sister's adopted tongue had been confined to dry lesson-books, butwhen she had been free to choose her own literature, in New York andLondon, she had read more widely. People whom she had told of hersister's marriage, and her own mission, had sent her several rarevolumes,--among others a valuable old copy of the Koran, and she haddevoured them all, delighting in the facility which grew with practice.Now, it seemed quite simple to be talking with Sidi Maieddine ben elHadj Messaoud as she had talked. It was no more romantic or strangethan all of life was romantic and strange. Rather did she feel that atlast she was face to face with reality.
"He _does_ know something about Cassim," she said, half aloud, andsearching her instinct, she still thought that she could trust him tokeep faith with her. He was not playing. She believed that there wassincerity in his eyes.
The next morning, when Victoria called at the Governor's palace, andheard that Captain Cassim ben Halim was supposed to have died inConstantinople, years ago, she was not cast down. "I know Si Maieddinedoesn't think he's dead," she told herself.
There was a note for her at the hotel, and though the writer hadaddressed the envelope to "Mademoiselle Ray," in an educated Frenchhandwriting, the letter inside was written in beautiful Arab lettering,an intentionally flattering tribute to her accomplishment.
Si Maieddine informed her that his hope had been justified, and that inconversation with his cousin his own surmises had been confirmed. Acertain plan was suggested, which he wished to propose to MademoiselleRay, but as it would need some discussion, there was not time to bringit forward before the hour when she must go out to keep her engagement.On her return, however, he begged that she would see him, in the salonof Madame Constant, where she would find him waiting. Meanwhile, heventured to remind her that for the present, secrecy was even morenecessary than he had at first supposed; he would be able to explainwhy, fully and satisfactorily, when they met in the afternoon.
With this appointment to look forward to, it was natural that Victoriashould excuse herself to Lady MacGregor earlier than most people caredto leave Djenan el Djouad. The girl was more excited than she had everbeen in her life, and it was only by the greatest self-control that shekept--or believed that she kept--her manner as usual, while with Stephenin the white garden of lilies. She was happy, because she saw her feetalready upon the path which would lead through the golden silence to hersister; but there was a drawback to her happiness--a fly in the amber,as in one of the prayer-beads she had bought of Jeanne Soubise: hersecret had to be kept from the man of whom she thought as a very staunchfriend. She felt guilty in talking with Stephen Knight, and acceptinghis sympathy as if she were hiding nothing from him; but she must betrue to her promise, and Si Maieddine had the right to exact it, thoughof course Mr. Knight might have been excepted, if only Si Maieddine knewhow loyal he was. But Si Maieddine did not know, and she could notexplain. It was consoling to think of the time when Stephen might betold everything; and she wished almost unconsciously that it was hishelp which she had to rely upon now.