XXXIX
Maieddine did not try to see Victoria, or send her any message.
In spite of M'Barka's vision in the sand, and his own superstition, hewas sure now that nothing could come between him and his wish. The girlwas safe in the marabout's house, to which he had brought her, and itwas impossible for her to get away without his help, even if she werewilling to go, and leave the sister whom she had come so far to find.Maieddine knew what he could offer the marabout, and knew that themarabout would willingly pay even a higher price than he meant to ask.
He lived in the guest-house, and had news sometimes from his cousinLella M'Barka in her distant quarters. She was tired, but not ill, andthe two sisters were very kind to her.
So three days passed, and the doves circled and moaned round the minaretof the Zaouia mosque, and were fed at sunset on the white roof, by handshidden from all eyes save eyes of birds.
On the third day there was great excitement at Oued Tolga. The marabout,Sidi El Hadj Mohammed ben Abd el Kadr, came home, and was met on the wayby many people from the town and the Zaouia.
His procession was watched by women on many roofs--with reverentinterest by some; with joy by one woman who was his wife; with fear anddespair by another, who had counted on his absence for a few dayslonger. And Victoria stood beside her sister, looking out over thegolden silence towards the desert city of Oued Tolga, with a pair ofmodern field-glasses sent to her by Si Maieddine.
Maieddine himself went out to meet the marabout, riding El Biod, andconscious of unseen eyes that must be upon him. He was a notable figureamong the hundreds which poured out of town, and villages, and Zaouia,in honour of the great man's return; the noblest of all the desert menin floating white burnouses, who rode or walked, with the sun turningtheir dark faces to bronze, their eyes to gleaming jewels. But evenMaieddine himself became insignificant as the procession from the Zaouiawas joined by that from the city,--the glittering line in the midst ofwhich Sidi El Hadj Mohammed sat high on the back of a grey mehari.
From very far off Victoria saw the meeting, looking through the glassessent by Maieddine, those which he had given her once before, bidding hersee how the distant dunes leaped forward.
Then as she watched, and the procession came nearer, rising and fallingamong the golden sand-billows, she could plainly make out the majesticform of the marabout. The sun blazed on the silver cross of his saddle,and the spear-heads of the banners which waved around him; but he wasdressed with severe simplicity, in a mantle of green silk, with thegreen turban to which he had earned the right by visiting Mecca. Thelong white veil of many folds, which can be worn only by a descendant ofthe Prophet, flowed over the green cloak; and the face below the eyeswas hidden completely by a mask of thin black woollen stuff, such as hasbeen named "nun's veiling" in Europe. He was tall, and no longerslender, as Victoria remembered Cassim ben Halim to have been ten yearsago; but all the more because of his increasing bulk, was his bearingmajestic as he rode on the grey mehari, towering above the crowd. Eventhe Agha, Si Maieddine's father, had less dignity than that of thisgreat saint of the southern desert, returning like a king to his people,after carrying through a triumphant mission.
"If only he had been a few days later!" Saidee thought.
And Victoria felt an oppressive sense of the man's power, wrapping roundher and her sister like a heavy cloak. But she looked above and beyondhim, into the gold, and with all the strength of her spirit she sent outa call to Stephen Knight.
"I love you. Come to me. Save my sister and me. God, send him to us. Hesaid he would come, no matter how far. Now is the time. Let him come."
The silence of the golden sea was broken by cries of welcome to themarabout, praises of Allah and the Prophet who had brought him safelyback, shouts of men, and wailing "you-yous" of women, shrill voices ofchildren, and neighing of horses.
Up the side of the Zaouia hill, lame beggars crawled out of the riverbed, each hurrying to pass the others--hideous deformities, legless,noseless, humpbacked, twisted into strange shapes like brown potsrejected by the potter, groaning, whining, eager for the marabout'sblessing, a supper, and a few coins. Those who could afford a copper ortwo were carried through the shallow water on the backs of half-naked,sweating Negroes from the village; but those who had nothing excepttheir faith to support them, hobbled or crept over the stones, wettingtheir scanty rags; laughed at by black and brown children who feared tofollow, because of the djinn who lived in a cave of evil yellow stones,guarding a hidden spring which gushed into the river.
On Miluda's roof there was music, which could be heard from anotherroof, nearer the minaret where the doves wheeled and moaned; and perhapsthe marabout himself could hear it, as he approached the Zaouia; butthough it called him with a song of love and welcome, he did not answerthe call at once. First he took Maieddine into his private receptionroom, where he received only the guests whom he most delighted tohonour.
There, though the ceiling and walls were decorated in Arab fashion, withthe words, El Afia el Bakia, "eternal health," inscribed in lettering ofgold and red, opposite the door, all the furniture was French, gilded,and covered with brocade of scarlet and gold. The curtains draped overthe inlaid cedar-wood shutters of the windows were of the same brocade,and the beautiful old rugs from Turkey and Persia could not soften itscrudeness. The larger reception room from which this opened had stillmore violent decorations, for there the scarlet mingled with vivid blue,and there were curiosities enough to stock a museum--presents sent tothe marabout from friends and admirers all over the world. There werefirst editions of rare books, illuminated missals, dinner services ofsilver and gold, Dresden and Sevres, and even Royal Worcester; splendidcrystal cases of spoons and jewellery; watches old and new; weapons ofmany countries, and an astonishing array of clocks, all ticking, andpointing to different hours. But the inner room, which only the intimatefriends of Sidi Mohammed ever saw, was littered with no such incongruouscollection. On the walls were a few fine pictures by well-known Frenchartists of the most modern school, mostly representing nude women; forthough the Prophet forbade the fashioning of graven images, he made nomention of painting. There were comfortable divans, and little tables,on which were displayed boxes of cigars and cigarettes, and egg-shellcoffee-cups in filigree gold standards.
In this room, behind shut doors, Maieddine told his errand, notforgetting to enumerate in detail the great things he could do for theCause, if his wish were granted. He did not speak much of Victoria, orhis love for her, but he knew that the marabout must reckon her beautyby the price he was prepared to pay; and he gave the saint little timeto picture her fascinations. Nor did Sidi Mohammed talk of the girl, orof her relationship to one placed near him; and his face (which heunmasked with a sigh of relief when he and his friend were alone) didnot change as he listened, or asked questions about the servicesMaieddine would render the Cause. At first he seemed to doubt thepossibility of keeping such promises, some of which depended upon theAgha; but Maieddine's enthusiasm inspired him with increasingconfidence. He spoke freely of the great work that was being done by theimportant societies of which he was the head; of what he hadaccomplished in Oran, and had still to accomplish; of the arms andammunition smuggled into the Zaouia and many other places, from Franceand Morocco, brought by the "silent camels" in rolls of carpets andboxes of dates. But, he added, this was only a beginning. Years mustpass before all was ready, and many more men, working heart and soul,night and day, were needed. If Maieddine could help, well and good. Butwould the Agha yield to his influence?
"Not the Agha," Maieddine answered, "but the Agha's people. They are mypeople, too, and they look to me as their future head. My father is old.There is nothing I cannot make the Ouled-Sirren do, nowhere I cannot bidthem go, if I lead."
"And wilt thou lead in the right way? If I give thee thy desire, wiltthou not forget, when it is already thine?" the marabout asked. "When aman wears a jewel on his finger, it does not always glitter so brightlyas when he saw and coveted it first."
>
"Not always. But in each man's life there is one jewel, supreme aboveothers, to possess which he eats the heart, and which, when it is his,becomes the star of his life, to be worshipped forever. Once he has seenthe jewel, the man knows that there is nothing more glorious for himthis side heaven; that it is for him the All of joy, though to others,perhaps, it might not seem as bright. And there is nothing he would notdo to have and to keep it."
The marabout looked intently at Maieddine, searching his mind to thedepths; and the face of each man was lit by an inner flame, which gavenobility to his expression. Each was passionately sincere in his way,though the way of one was not the way of the other.
In his love Maieddine was true, according to the light his religion andthe unchanging customs of his race had given him. He intended no wrongto Victoria, and as he was sure that his love was an honour for her, hesaw no shame in taking her against what she mistakenly believed to beher wish. Her confession of love for another man had shocked him atfirst, but now he had come to feel that it had been but a stroke ofdiplomacy on her part, and he valued her more than ever for hersubtlety. Though he realized dimly that with years his passion for hermight cool, it burned so hotly now that the world was only a frame forthe picture of her beauty. And he was sure that never in time to comecould he forget the thrill of this great passion, or grudge the price henow offered and meant to pay.
Cassim ben Halim had begun his crusade under the name and banner of themarabout, in the fierce hope of revenge against the power which brokehim, and with an entirely selfish wish for personal aggrandizement. Butas the years went on, he had converted himself to the fanaticism heprofessed. Sidi El Hadj Mohammed ben Abd el Kadr had created an idealand was true to it. Still a selfish sensualist on one side of hisnature, there was another side capable of high courage andself-sacrifice for the one cause which now seemed worth a sacrifice. Tothe triumph of Islam over usurpers he was ready to devote his life, orgive his life; but having no mercy upon himself if it came to a questionbetween self and the Cause, he had still less mercy upon others, withone exception; his son. Unconsciously, he put the little boy above allthings, all aims, all people. But as for Saidee's sister, the child heremembered, who had been foolish enough and irritating enough to findher way to Oued Tolga, he felt towards her, in listening to the story ofher coming, as an ardent student might feel towards a persistent midgewhich disturbed his studies. If the girl could be used as a pawn in hisgreat game, she had a certain importance, otherwise none--except thather midge-like buzzings must not annoy him, or reach ears at adistance.
Both men were naturally schemers, and loved scheming for its own sake,but never had either pitted his wits against the other with lessintention of hiding his real mind. Each was in earnest, utterly sincere,therefore not ignoble; and the bargain was struck between the two withno deliberate villainy on either side. The marabout promised his wife'ssister to Maieddine with as little hesitation as a patriarch of Israel,three thousand years ago, would have promised a lamb for the sacrificialaltar. He stipulated only that before the marriage Maieddine shouldprove, not his willingness, but his ability to bring his father's peopleinto the field.
"Go to the douar," he said, "and talk with the chief men. Then bringback letters from them, or send if thou wilt, and the girl shall be thywife. I shall indeed be gratified by the connection between thineillustrious family and mine."
Maieddine had expected this, though he had hoped that his eloquencemight persuade the marabout to a more impulsive agreement. "I will dowhat thou askest," he answered, "though it means delay, and delay ishard to bear. When I passed through the douar, my father's chief caidswere on the point of leaving for Algiers, to do honour to the Governorby showing themselves at the yearly ball. They will have started beforeI can reach the douar again, by the fastest travelling, for as thouknowest, I should be some days on the way."
"Go then to Algiers, and meet them. That is best, and will be quicker,since journeying alone, thou canst easily arrive at Touggourt in threedays from here. In two more, by taking a carriage and relays of horses,thou canst be at Biskra; and after that, there remains but the seventeenhours of train travelling."
"How well thou keepest track of all progress, though things weredifferent when thou wast last in the north," Maieddine said.
"It is my business to know all that goes on in my own country, north,south, east, and west. When wilt thou start?"
"To-night."
"Thou art indeed in earnest! Thou wilt of course pay thine own respectsto the Governor? I will send him a gift by thee, since there is noreason he should not know that we have met. The mission on which thouwert ostensibly travelling brought thee to the south."
"I will take thy gift and messages with pleasure." Maieddine said. "Itwas expected that I should return for the ball, and present myself inplace of my father, who is too old now for such long journeys; but Iintended to make my health an excuse for absence. I should have pleadeda touch of the sun, and a fever caught in the marshes while carrying outthe mission. Indeed, it is true that I am subject to fever. However, Iwill go, since thou desirest. The ball, which was delayed, is now fixedfor a week from to-morrow. I will show myself for some moments, and therest of the night I can devote to a talk with the caids. I know what theresult will be. And a fortnight from to-morrow thou wilt see me hereagain with the letters."
"I believe thou wilt not fail," the marabout answered. "And neither willI fail thee."