Read The Interpreter: A Tale of the War Page 37


  CHAPTER XXXIII

  MY PATIENT

  "With the blessing of Allah! rub the palms of her hands with saffron!"

  "Allah-Illah! Allah-Illah!--tickle the soles of her feet withfeathers!"

  "It is destiny! In the name of the Prophet pour cold water down herback!" "Room for the Frankish _Hakim_!" "May dogs defile the grave ofthe Giaour!"

  Such were the exclamations that followed me into the apartment ofZuleika; for the Moslem daughters of Eve are not exempt from thecuriosity attributed by tradition to the common mother; and have,moreover, superinduced on that pardonable failing certain prejudices oftheir own against the Christian unbeliever, whom, even when availingthemselves of his assistance, they do not scruple to curse fluently,spitting the while between their teeth with considerable energy andeffect.

  Pending the application of their customary remedies, which in myignorance of fainting-fits I judged to be the professional course oftreatment, the ladies of the harem crowded and chatted at the door,peering over each other's shoulders, advancing a step into theapartment, retiring in confusion with a giggle and a scream, flirtingatrociously with their negro guards--men of ebony without and icewithin, as indeed they had need be--and otherwise to the best of theirabilities increasing the general confusion.

  One alone came boldly forward to my assistance; venerable she was, but adame whom age, though it had deprived her of charms, had not robbed ofthe enchanting timidity of youth.

  In her efforts to assist the sufferer she had cast her veil aside, buttrue to Oriental modesty she scrupulously covered her mouth[#] (and avery black set of teeth) with her hand even while she addressed me.Authoritative in her manner, and evidently accustomed to despotic swayin this part of the establishment, I confess I sincerely pitied thePasha to whom this energetic lady must for several years have belonged.She came close up to me, tore the _yashmak_ from Zuleika's face, andexclaimed in tones which admitted of no dispute--

  [#] A curious custom peculiar to the sex all over the East. The veil,indeed, seems only adopted as a screen for the mouth, since the eyes aresuffered to flash undimmed by its transparent folds. Should a Turkishwoman be surprised by chance without her _yashmak_, she immediatelyclaps her hand to her lips, and so remains till the male stranger haspassed by.

  "Bring otto of roses to anoint our dove; strip her at once from head tofoot; and kick the Giaour downstairs!"

  It was now time to assume a certain amount of dignified authority. Iwaved away the uncompromising old lady with the air of a magiciandismissing his familiar; I ordered the lattice to be immediately thrownopen--fortunately it looked towards the east, which was considered muchto enhance the virtue of the breeze that stole through its aperture--andtaking advantage of the returning animation which dawned on Zuleika'scountenance, I repeated an incantation in English--if I remember rightit was the negro melody of "_Oh, Susannah!_" accompanying the monotonoustones with appropriate gestures, until my patient opened her languishingblack eyes, glanced heavily around her, and sitting upright on hercouch, announced herself completely recovered.

  My popularity was now at the flood. Had I administered the simpleremedies which I have since been informed are beneficial in such cases,I should, however successful, have been looked upon merely in the lightof a common practitioner; but that the lady should recover to the tonesof a popular air, accompanied by a deportment of ludicrous solemnity,constituted a success which stamped me at once as a proficient in theBlack Art, and won for me unqualified obedience and respect, not whollydevoid of fear.

  To take advantage of the happy moment, I pulled my watch from my pocket,and placing my finger on the patient's wrist, bid the imperious dameaforesaid remark how the pulsations corresponded with the ticks of thatinstrument. This, too, was a great discovery, and the watch was handedround for examination to all the curious inmates of the harem in turn.

  I then ordered the room to be cleared, and insisted that I should beleft alone with my patient until the minute-hand of my watch had reachedthe favourable hour.

  This I knew would give me five minutes' conversation with Zuleika, andas I expected the Pasha home at every instant, I could not afford morethan this short space of time to give my friend the Beloochee's messageand plead his cause. The room was speedily cleared, not, however,without much laughing, screaming, and scuffling in the passage. As soonas I was alone with Zuleika, I whispered gently in her ear not to beafraid, but to trust me, as I came from him she loved best in the world.

  The girl started, and began to tremble violently; she was so pale that Idreaded another fainting-fit, and the consequent destruction of myreputation as a doctor. Though an Arab, she was a _woman_; and at thiscrisis of her destiny was of course paralysed by fear and totallyincapable of acting for herself. Had her emotion mastered her oncemore, the golden opportunity would have been lost; there was nothing forit but to work upon her feelings, and I proceeded in a tone ofindifference--

  "You have forgotten him. He bids me say that 'the rose has beentransplanted into a garden of purer air and cooler streams; he has seenwith his own eyes that she is blooming and fragrant, and he issatisfied. He rejoices in your happiness, and bids you farewell!'"

  She burst into a flood of tears; her woman's heart was touched, as Ihoped it would be, by the sentiment I had put into her lover's mouth,and the relief thus afforded brought her composure and self-command.She came of a race, too, that never lacked courage or fortitude, and thewild desert-blood soon mantled once more in her rich, soft cheek--thetameless spirit of the Bedouin soon flashed again from her large darkeyes.

  "Effendi!" she replied, in a firm though mournful voice, "my father'sdaughter can never forget. Bid him think no more of the rose hecherished so fondly. She has been plucked from the stem, and now she isdrooping and withering away."

  "But Allah suffers not the flowers to perish," I proceeded in Orientalmetaphor, while she clasped her slender hands and seemed to look throughme with her glittering eyes. "He sends the dews from heaven to refreshthem at night. A wild bird will sing to the rose before dawn, and shewill open her petals and bloom once more fresh and glistening in themorning sun. Zuleika, have you completely forgotten Ali Mesrour?"

  At the sound of his name a soft, saddened expression stole over hereager face, large drops gathered in her drooping eyelashes, and it waswith a thrilling voice that she replied--"Never! never! once more to seehim, only once more to hear his voice, and so to die! so to die!" sherepeated, looking dreamily as if into the hopeless future.

  "It is destiny," was my answer. "There is but one Allah! An hourbefore dawn there will be a caique at the garden gate. Zuleika mustcontrive the rest. The risk is great, but 'the diver cannot fetchpearls without wetting his hair.' Will Zuleika promise?"

  "I promise!" was all she had time to reply, for at this instant noslight commotion was heard in the household, and looking from thecasement I perceived an eight-oared caique brought alongside of thepalace steps, from which a pipe-bearer springing rapidly ashore,followed by a more sedate personage, evidently a _kiatib_, or secretary,heralded the great man of the party, who, emerging from the shade of awhite silk umbrella, hitherto held carefully over him by a thirdofficial, now laboured majestically up the marble steps, pausingoccasionally to draw a long breath, and looking around him the whilewith an air of corpulent satisfaction that no one but a Turk couldimitate with the slightest prospect of success.

  It was indeed the Pasha himself--the fortunate possessor of themagnificent dwelling, the owner of all these negro slaves, this gorgeousretinue, these beautiful women--and more still, the lord and master ofpoor Zuleika. I thought it better to meet him on the threshold than torisk his astonishment and displeasure by awaiting his entrance into theharem; accordingly I hurried down to the court-yard of his palace, andpresented myself before him with a mixture of Eastern courtesy andEuropean self-respect, such as never fails to impress a Turk with thefeeling that in the presence of a Frank
he is himself but of an inferiororder of mankind.

  "Salaam, Effendi!" was the observation of the proprietor, as polite andunmoved as if he had expected me all day. "You are welcome! My housewith all it contains is at your disposal!" He motioned me courteouslyinto a large, handsome apartment on the ground-floor of the palace, bidme to be seated, and clapping his palms together, called for pipes andcoffee; then placing himself comfortably on the divan, he crossed hishands over his stomach, and repeated, "You are welcome!" after which hesat perfectly silent, nodding his head from side to side, and peeringcuriously at me out of his small, twinkling grey eyes.

  He was an enormously fat man, buttoned up of course into the usualsingle-breasted frock-coat, on the outside of which glittered thediamond order of the Medjidjie. His huge, shapeless legs were encasedin European trousers of the widest dimensions, and terminated invarnished Wellington boots, from which he had just cast off a pair ofindia-rubber goloshes. It was the modern Turkish costume, affected bythe Sultan himself, and a dress so ill-adapted for the dog-days atConstantinople can hardly be imagined; yet every official, everydignitary, every military man, is now clad in these untowardhabiliments, for which they have discarded the picturesque draperies oftheir ancestors; so that the fine old Turk, "shawled to the eyes, andbearded to the nose," is only to be seen in Stamboul amongst the learnedprofessions and the inferior orders of tradesmen and mechanics. A redfez was the single characteristic article of clothing worn by the Pasha;and a more villainous expression of countenance than that which itovershadowed, it has seldom been my lot to confront. We stared at eachother without speaking. It would have been ill-bred on the part of myhost to ask me what I wanted, and I should have been guilty of an equalsolecism in entering on my business until I had partaken of thecustomary refreshment.

  Coffee was ere long brought in by negro slaves armed to the teeth, andof savage, scowling aspect. It was served in delicate filigree cups,set with priceless diamonds. Long chibouques were then filled andlighted. As I pressed the pure amber to my lips, and inhaled thefragrant aroma of the narcotic weed, I resolved to brazen it outmanfully; but never, never again to find myself in such another scrape,no, not for all the warriors in Beloochistan, nor all the "Zuleikas"that ever eloped with them from the desert.

  I thought I would say nothing of my visit to the harem. I judged, andrightly, that neither the ladies themselves, nor the negro-guard, whoseduty it was to watch over those caged birds, would be over anxious tocommunicate the breach of discipline which had just been enacted, andthat, although the secret was sure to ooze out in the course of a day ortwo, it was needless to anticipate the turmoil and disturbance whichwould attend its discovery.

  But what excuse to make for my ill-timed visit? How to account for myintrusion on the leisure of so great a man as Papoosh Pasha, one of thehalf-dozen highest dignitaries of the empire, the friend and counsellorof the Sultan himself, even then fresh from the sacred precincts of theSeraglio Palace, where he had been helping sundry other ponderous Pashasto mismanage the affairs of his country, and to throw dust in the eyesof the enervated voluptuary who held the reins of power in a sadlypalsied grasp. I too must take a leaf out of the book of Asiaticduplicity. I had seen a ship full of wounded dropping her anchor as Icame along; there must have been another attack on the stronghold atSebastopol--I was pretty safe in surmising, with no satisfactory result.I would pretend then that I had been sent to inform his Excellency ofthe particulars, and accordingly I puffed forth a volume of pure whitesmoke towards the ceiling, and advanced under cover of the discharge.

  "His Highness has sent me hither in haste to inform your Excellency ofthe great news from the front. Am I too late to be the fortunatebearer, or has your Excellency already heard the particulars from theElshie?"[#]

  [#] The ambassador.

  He darted a keen, suspicious glance at me, and replied gravely enough,"The war goes on prosperously in the front. We shall yet sweep 'theMoscov' from the face of the earth!"

  "I am desired to inform your Excellency," I resumed, determined topersevere at all hazards, "that the Allies have again attacked theplace. The Moscov came out in great numbers to repel the assault; theFrench have suffered severely; the Turkish troops covered the retreatwith great gallantry and steadiness; fifteen hundred Russians remaineddead upon the field; many more are disabled; Sebastopol must surrenderwithin ten days."

  "Mashallah!" replied the Pasha, laying his pipe down by his side; butfor the life of me I could not make out whether or not he believed aword I had been telling him.

  "Have I fulfilled my duty to your Excellency?" I continued, becomingevery moment more and more anxious to make my escape. "I am at yourExcellency's disposal; I am the humblest of your slaves. Have I yourpermission to depart?"

  He looked uneasily around, but there seemed no apparent excuse fordelay. It was evident to me that he wished to communicate with hisretainers, but that his politeness forbade him to do so in my presence,and a Turk never allows any emergency to make him forget the exigenciesof etiquette. He bade me farewell with much cordiality, ordered a horseto be got ready to carry me home, and dismissed me with many expressionsof affection, but with the same fierce twinkle in that cunning leadeneye that had already more than once warned me to beware.

  Many and devoted were the Pasha's retainers; hundreds slept on his mats,and followed at his heels, but I question whether I, the poor namelessInterpreter, could not command a greater amount of affection, courage,and fidelity, in the breast of my one trusty four-footed slave andcompanion, than existed in the whole retinue, black and white, of theOriental dignitary.

  Bold had followed me through my wanderings, faced with me many of thedangers of warfare, and shared in all its privations. The old dog wasgetting very time-worn now, quite grizzled about the muzzle, andludicrously solemn, both in countenance and demeanour. To the world ingeneral his temper was anything but conciliatory, and it required littleprovocation to make him set his mark on man or beast that affronted him;but with me he was always the same, obedient, devoted, and affectionate.He accompanied me everywhere, and would wait for hours in thecourt-yards of the Seraskerat or the Embassy, till his master emergedfrom the long-watched portal, when he would rise, give himself a lazyshake, and stalk on gravely by my side, occasionally thrusting his wetcold nose into my hand, and scowling at all strangers, even of his ownspecies, with a very ominous "_noli me tangere_" expression, thatforbade the slightest approach to familiarity.

  Now the dog is an unclean animal to the Mussulman, and although his lifeis spared, as being the authorised scavenger of the streets, the truedisciple of the Prophet scrupulously shuns all contact with the brutethat the Christian loves to train as a servant and cherish as a friend.There is a curious old Arabic legend, which, although not to be found inthe Koran, is recognised by the faithful as a trustworthy tradition, andto believe in which is esteemed an essential point of doctrine by thedevout, that accounts for this unkindly superstition. Freely translated,it runs much in the following fashion:--

  "When Allah had created the land and the sea, the mountains, theforests, the flowers, and the precious stones, he looked, and beholdthere was beauty and silence all over the earth.

  "Then Allah created the birds and the beasts and the fishes; all thingsthat swim, and creep, and fly, and run, and every living thing rejoicedin the sunshine.

  "So Allah rested from his work in the Garden of Eden, by the FourRivers, and looked around him, and behold the whole earth was astir inthe forepart of the day.

  "Then the breeze blew, and the waters laughed and rippled, and the birdssang, and the blossoms fell.

  "So the angels smiled, and said, Praise be to Allah. It is verygood--Allah! Bismillah!

  "Then Allah saw that there were none of the inhabitants of earth thatcould smile as the angels smiled, or walk erect and praise him with theface to heaven.

  "For the steed was grazing downward, and the lion lay couched in hislair, and the eagle, though she turned her eye to the sun, h
ad neitherpraise nor smile.

  "Then Allah took clay, and moistened it, and fashioned it till the sunwent down.

  "And Allah rested from his work, and left it in the Garden of Eden, bythe Great Tree, where the Four Rivers spring.

  "Now Gabriel walked in the garden, and he stopped where the work ofAllah lay plastic on the sward, and the star shone bright on hisforehead, for he praised Allah in his heart.

  "And Shaitan came to walk in the garden, to cool his brow, and hestopped over against Gabriel and mocked.

  "And Shaitan said, 'What is this, that I may know it, and name it, andclaim my share in it for my own?'

  "And Gabriel answered, 'Praise be to Allah; who has made all thingswell. This is Allah's work, and it shall be the perfection of all.Bismillah!'

  "Then Shaitan laughed once more, and he turned the image over with hisfoot, so that it stood on all fours, with its face to the dust, and spatupon it, and said, 'It is empty! On my eyes be it!'

  "And in the morning there was silence in Eden, for the work of Allah hadbeen defiled.

  "And Allah said, 'This is the doing of Shaitan. Behold, I will make ofit yet another brute, and it shall be called the Dog, and be accursed.

  "'And I will take other clay, and fashion another image that shall smileas the angels smile, and walk erect with its face to heaven, and I willcall it Man.'

  "And Shaitan cowered behind the Great Tree and listened to the voice ofAllah, and though he trembled, he smiled.

  "For Shaitan knew that he would have his share in the Man as in thebeast."

  Poor Bold, unconscious of his excommunication, hurried up to me in thecourt-yard of the Pasha's palace, where a fine horse, richlycaparisoned, was being brought alongside the mounting-block for my use.In doing so the dog's tail, waving to greet his master, touched the handof a tall forbidding-looking negro that stood by, grinning from ear toear, as is the custom of his countrymen. The black swore a great oath,and kicked my dog savagely in the jaws. As Bold pinned him by the leg,I caught him such a buffet under the ear as knocked him fairly into thedust; from which abject position he embraced my feet and called me "hisfather." With some little difficulty I rated Bold off his prostratefoe, and mounting my horse, or rather the Pasha's, rode quietly to myhotel, where I dismissed the steed, and the groom who had accompaniedhim on foot, with a "_baksheesh_," and thought nothing more of thetransaction. "A word and a blow" is as common a proceeding inConstantinople as at Donnybrook fair, though it leads to far differentresults; inasmuch as in the former abode of despotic authority andslavish submission it is very generally the only argument that iscapable of enforcing proper subordination and respect.

  It is seldom that a man loses his temper, even under the greatestprovocation, without having cause, sooner or later, to regret his wantof self-command. There are few of our fellow-creatures so unimportantthat it is not worth while to conciliate them, none that may not sometime have it in their power to inflict on us an injury; besides, anangry man is only less contemptible than a frightened one. And, likeeverything else that is unchristianlike, it is surely ungentlemanlike toput oneself in a passion. There was not much in knocking down a negroslave for his brutality towards my favourite, yet, ere long, I had causebitterly to rue that I had not let him alone.