XX
Before morning light, Si Maieddine was in his cousin's house. Hsina hadnot yet called Victoria, but Lella M'Barka was up and dressed, ready toreceive Maieddine in the room where she had entertained the Roumia girllast night. Being a near relation, Si Maieddine was allowed to see LellaM'Barka unveiled; and even in the pink and gold light of the hanginglamps, she was ghastly under her paint. The young man was struck withher martyred look, and pitied her; but stronger than his pity was thefear that she might fail him--if not to-day, before the journey's end.She would have to undergo a strain terrible for an invalid, and he couldspare her much of this if he chose; but he would not choose, though hewas fond of his cousin, and grateful in a way. To spare her would meanthe risk of failure for him.
Each called down salutations and peace upon the head of the other, andLella M'Barka asked Maieddine if he would drink coffee. He thanked her,but had already taken coffee. And she? All her strength would be needed.She must not neglect to sustain herself now that everything dependedupon her health.
"My health!" she echoed, with a sigh, and a gesture of something likedespair. "O my cousin, if thou knewest how I suffer, how I dread whatlies before me, thou wouldst in mercy change thy plans even now. Thouwouldst go the short way to the end of our journey. Think of thedifference to me! A week or eight days of travel at most, instead ofthree weeks, or more if I falter by the way, and thou art forced towait."
Maieddine's face hardened under her imploring eyes, but he answered withgentleness, "Thou knowest, my kind friend and cousin, that I would givemy blood to save thee suffering, but it is more than my blood that thouaskest now. It is my heart, for my heart is in this journey and what Ihope from it, as I told thee yesterday. We discussed it all, thou and I,between us. Thou hast loved, and I made thee understand something ofwhat I feel for this girl, whose beauty, as thou hast seen, is that ofthe houris in Paradise. Never have I found her like; and it may be Icare more because of the obstacles which stand high as a wall between meand her. Because of the man who is her sister's husband, I must not failin respect, or even seem to fail. I cannot take her and ride away, as Imight with a maiden humbly placed, trusting to make her happy after shewas mine. My winning must be done first, as is the way of the Roumis,and she will be hard to win. Already she feels that one of my race hasstolen and hidden her sister; for this, in her heart, she fears and halfdistrusts all Arabs. A week would give me no time to capture her love,and when the journey is over it will be too late. Then, at best, I cansee little of her, even if she be allowed to keep something of herEuropean freedom. It is from this journey together--the long, longjourney--that I hope everything. No pains shall be spared. No luxuryshall she lack even on the hardest stretches of the way. She shall knowthat she owes all to my thought and care. In three weeks I can pull downthat high wall between us. She will have learned to depend on me, toneed me, to long for me when I am out of her sight, as the gazelle longsfor a fountain of sweet water."
"Poet and dreamer thou hast become, Maieddine," said Lella M'Barka witha tired smile.
"I have become a lover. That means both and more. My heart is set onsuccess with this girl: and yesterday thou didst promise to help. Inreturn, I offered thee a present that is like the gift of new life to awoman, the amulet my father's dead brother rubbed on the sacred BlackStone at Mecca, touched by the foot of the Prophet. I assured thee thatat the end of our journey I would persuade the marabout to make theamulet as potent for good to thee as the Black Stone itself, againstwhich thou canst never cool the fever in thy forehead. Then, when he hasused his power, and thou hast pressed the amulet on thy brows, thoumayst read the destiny of men and women written between their eyes, as asand-diviner reads fate in the sands. Thou wilt become in thine ownright a marabouta, and be sure of Heaven when thou diest. This blessingthe marabout will give, not for thy sake, but for mine, because I willdo for him certain things which he has long desired, and so far I havenever consented to undertake. Thou wilt gain greatly through keeping thyword to me. Believing in thy courage and good faith, I have made allarrangements for the journey. Not once last night did I close my eyes insleep. There was not a moment to rest, for I had many telegrams to send,and letters to write, asking my friends along the different stages ofthe way, after we have left the train, to lend me relays of mules orhorses. I have had to collect supplies, to think of and plan out detailsfor which most men would have needed a week's preparation, yet I havecompleted all in twelve hours. I believe nothing has been forgotten,nothing neglected. And can it be that my prop will fail me at the lastmoment?"
"No, I will not fail thee, unless soul and body part," Lella M'Barkaanswered. "I but hoped that thou mightest feel differently, that inpity--but I see I was wrong to ask. I will pray that the amulet, and thehope of the divine benediction of the baraka may support me to the end."
"I, too, will pray, dear cousin. Be brave, and remember, the journey isto be taken, in easy stages. All the comforts I am preparing are forthee, as well as for this white rose whose beauty has stolen the heartout of my breast."
"It is true. Thou art kind, or I would not love thee even as I shouldhave loved a son, had one been given me," said the haggard woman,meekly. "Does _she_ know that there will be three weeks or more oftravelling?"
"No. I told her vaguely that she could hardly hope to see her sister inless than a fortnight. I feared that, at first hearing, the thought ofsuch distances, separating her from what she has known of life, mightcause her to hesitate. But she will be willing to sacrifice herself andtravel less rapidly than she hoped, when she sees that thou art weak andailing. She has a heart with room in it for the welfare of others."
"Most women have. It is expected of us." Lella M'Barka sighed again,faintly. "But she is all that thou describedst to me, of beauty andsweetness. When she has been converted to the True Faith, as thy wife,nothing will be lacking to make her perfect."
Hsina appeared at the door. "Thy guest, O Lella M'Barka, is having hercoffee, and is eating bread with it," she announced. "In a few minutesshe will be ready. Shall I fetch her down while the gracious lordhonours the house with his presence, or----"
"My guest is a Roumia, and it is not forbidden that she show her face tomen," answered Hsina's mistress. "She will travel veiled, because, forreasons that do not concern thee, it is wiser. But she is free to appearbefore the Lord Maieddine. Bring her; and remember this, when I am gone.If to a living soul outside this house thou speakest of the Roumiamaiden, or even of my journey, worse things will happen to thee thantearing thy tongue out by the roots."
"So thou saidst last night to me, and to all the others," the negressanswered, like a sulky child. "As we are faithful, it is not necessaryto say it again." Without waiting to be scolded for her impudence, asshe knew she deserved, she went out, to return five minutes later withVictoria.
Maieddine's eyes lighted when he saw the girl in Arab dress. It seemedto him that she was far more beautiful, because, like all Arabs, hedetested the severe cut of a European woman's gowns. He loved brightcolours and voluptuous outlines.
It was only beginning to be daylight when they left the house and wentout to the carriage in which Victoria had been driven the night before.She and Lella M'Barka were both veiled, though there was no eye to seethem. Hsina and Fafann took out several bundles, wrapped in dark redwoollen haicks, and the Negro servants carried two curious trunks ofwood painted bright green, with coloured flowers and scrolls of goldupon them, and shining, flat covers of brass. In these was contained theluggage from the house; Maieddine's had already gone to the railwaystation. He wore a plain, dark blue burnous, with the hood up, and hischin and mouth were covered by the lower folds of the small veil whichfell from his turban, as if he were riding in the desert against a windstorm. It would have been impossible even for a friend to recognize him,and the two women in their white veils were like all native women ofwealth and breeding in Algiers. Hsina was crying, and Fafann, whoexpected to go with her mistress, was insufferably important. Victoriafelt that she
was living in a fairy story, and the wearing of the veilexcited and amused her. She was happy, and looked forward to the journeyitself as well as to the journey's end.
There were few people in the railway station, and Victoria saw noEuropean travellers. Maieddine had taken the tickets already, but he didnot tell her the name of the place to which they were going by rail. Shewould have liked to ask, but as neither Si Maieddine nor Lella M'Barkaencouraged questions, she reminded herself that she could easily readthe names of the stations as they passed.
Soon the train came in, and Maieddine put them into a first-classcompartment, which was labelled "reserved," though all other Arabs weregoing second or third. Fafann arranged cushions and haicks for LellaM'Barka; and at six o'clock a feeble, sulky-sounding trumpet blew,signalling the train to move out of the station.
Victoria was not sleepy, though she had lain awake thinking excitedlyall night; but Lella M'Barka bade her rest, as the day would be tiring.No one talked, and presently Fafann began to snore. The girl's eyes metSi Maieddine's, and they smiled at each other. This made him seem to hermore like an ordinary human being than he had seemed before.
After a while, she dropped into a doze, and was surprised when she wakedup, to find that it was nearly nine o'clock. Fafann had roused her bymoving about, collecting bundles. Soon they would be "there." And as thetrain slowed down, Victoria saw that "there" was Bouira.
This place was the destination of a number of Arab travellers, but theinstant they were out of the train, these passengers appeared to meltaway unobtrusively. Only one carriage was waiting, and that was for SiMaieddine and his party.
It was a very different carriage from Lella M'Barka's, in Algiers; avehicle for the country, Victoria thought it not unlike old-fashionedchaises in which farmers' families sometimes drove to Potterston, tochurch. It had side and back curtains of canvas, which were fasteneddown, and an Arab driver stood by the heads of two strong black mules.
"This carriage belongs to a friend of mine, a Caid," Maieddine explainedto Victoria. "He has lent it to me, with his driver and mules, to use aslong as I wish. But we shall have to change the mules often, before webegin at last to travel in a different way."
"How quickly thou hast arranged everything," exclaimed the girl.
This was a welcome sign of appreciation, and Maieddine was pleased. "Isent the Caid a telegram," he said. "And there were many more telegramsto other places, far ahead. That is one good thing which the French havebrought to our country. The telegraph goes to the most remote places inthe Sahara. By and by, thou wilt see the poles striding away over desertdunes."
"By and by! Dost thou mean to-day?" asked Victoria.
"No, it will be many days before thou seest the great dunes. But thouwilt see them in the end, and I think thou wilt love them as I do.Meanwhile, there will be other things of interest. I shall not let theetire of the way, though it be long."
He helped them into the carriage, the invalid first, then Victoria, andgot in after them; Fafann, muffled in her veil, sitting on the seatbeside the driver.
"By this time Mr. Knight has my letter, and has read it," the girl saidto herself. "Oh, I do hope he won't be disgusted, and think meungrateful. How glad I shall be when the day comes for me to explain."
As it happened, the letter was in Maieddine's thoughts at the samemoment. It occurred to him, too, that it would have been read by now. Heknew to whom it had been written, for he had got a friend of his tobring him a list of passengers on board the _Charles Quex_ on her lasttrip from Marseilles to Algiers. Also, he had learned at whose houseStephen Knight was staying.
Maieddine would gladly have forgotten to post the letter, and could havedone so without hurting his conscience. But he had thought it might bebetter for Knight to know that Miss Ray was starting on a journey, andthat there was no hope of hearing from her for a fortnight. Victoria hadbeen ready to show him the letter, therefore she had not written anyforbidden details; and Knight would probably feel that she must be leftto manage her own affairs in her own way. No doubt he would be curious,and ask questions at the Hotel de la Kasbah, but Maieddine believed thathe had made it impossible for Europeans to find out anything there, orelsewhere. He knew that men of Western countries could be interested ina girl without being actually in love with her; and though it was almostimpossible to imagine a man, even a European, so cold as not to fall inlove with Victoria at first sight, he hoped that Knight was blind enoughnot to appreciate her, or that his affections were otherwise engaged.After all, the two had been strangers when they came on the boat, or hadmet only once before, therefore the Englishman had no right to takesteps unauthorized by the girl. Altogether, Maieddine thought he hadreason to be satisfied with the present, and to hope in the future.