Читать книгу The Arab's Pledge: A Tale of Marocco in 1830 - Edward Ledwich Mitford - Страница 8

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s soon as Rachel recovered her consciousness, the poor mother looked round in vain for her child, and felt almost crushed by her desolation, but soon, with that elasticity of feeling so providentially given to her race, she began to turn over in her mind the means of rescuing Azora from what she could not conceal from herself was most imminent danger. She pondered long and deeply. The first object was to raise money; for, in a country like this, she knew that bribery was the first, if not, the first and last, means of success; and she at once began collecting all their little articles of jewellery, and what money was in her possession. While turning out the contents of one or two small trunks, in which she kept what she possessed of value, her eye was arrested by the sight of a small green velvet pouch, four or five inches square, ornamented with tarnished embroidery, such as is commonly used for carrying flint and steel.

"The Pledge!" exclaimed Rachel, her face brightening with hope; "as my soul liveth, this is not sent to me for nought in my hour of peril. The Arab's Pledge! Oh! he will save us! But where to find him? Alas! he may be a month's journey in the Desert—but no! now I remember I heard that he was marching with the tribes against the south, and was already at Tafilelt."

She immediately sent to call her daughter's betrothed, who was already on his way to the house, the intelligence of this outrage having quickly spread. These betrothals take place at an early age, and as young people, among the Jews, see a great deal of each other, their marriages, as a rule, are cemented by great affection, and attended with much happiness. Yusuf was a young man engaged in trade, who had been in the habit of travelling with small ventures in the provinces; he was strongly built, and accustomed to fatigue, and possessed considerable talent, with a large amount of caution and common sense. He was almost in a state of frenzy, which was aggravated by his knowledge of its impotence, as he listened to Rachel's description of the occurrence.

"O mother! dear mother! this is horrible, to be deprived at a blow of all that is dear to me. And oh! what must her sufferings be? Why are we such slaves?—but I will fly to save her! What is my life worth?" And the spirit of the man made a feeble attempt to rise within him. "The Sultan shall hear me, though he slay me!"

"Yusuf, my poor boy," said Rachel, "you can do nothing: are we not Jews? Your life would be thrown away, and in vain. What can be done with money, that I will do; listen to my voice, and if it please the God of Abraham to help us, you may yet be the means of her rescue."

"O mother! but tell me how!"

"Listen—it is now seven years since that an Arab prisoner fell into the Sultan's power. Through my husband's assistance (God rest him!), he was enabled to make his escape; my husband also redeemed his favourite black horse, which had been given to a common soldier, and without which he refused to escape. It was in the cool morning, before the sun had risen, when my husband guided the Sheik out of the town gates, where he found his steed ready saddled for flight. The Arab, free, and once more possessing his favourite, was moved nearly to tears. My husband told me that the horse recognised his master, and that their meeting was like the meeting of two sons of Adam. The Arab then took my husband by the hand, and thus addressed him: 'O friend, you have known me as a helpless prisoner; my faith was not your faith, yet have you conferred on me benefits which I should have looked for in vain from these Moors, who call themselves Moslem. O friend! know me now as Hamed Ibn Ishem, Chief of the Woled Abou Sebah. Gold cannot repay the obligations conferred on my father's son, but gold you shall have. But you are a Jew, and here, are ever subject to danger and persecution, and evil days may come, (which God avert!) when my assistance may be of service to you. Therefore, you shall take a Pledge of me, that all the tribes may know that we are brothers, and that the peace of God is between us.' He then took this pouch, embroidered with his name, from his belt, and put in it a lock of hair cut from his horse's mane. 'Wherever you show this, every Arab will obey you. If you are oppressed, fly with your family to the shadow of my tent:—if in danger, send to me for assistance; and as my faith has not prevented you from aiding me in my distress, I swear, by the God of Ishmael, that nothing shall prevent my redeeming this pledge at the risk of my life! Peace be with you!' and, pressing my husband's hand, he sprang into the saddle, and was soon lost to sight in the morning mist. The Sheik sent us gold, but my husband's beneficent spirit would not allow him to enrich himself while there were poor to be relieved, and this pledge was almost forgotten, until to-day it came on my sight like a messenger from heaven. The hour of peril is come. Take it, my son—seek out the Sheik—he will redeem his pledge; many of our people live in their tents, and peradventure I and my child may escape to the wilderness, even as wandering birds cast out of the nest. Oh, let not to-morrow's sun see thee within ten hours' journey of this accursed city."

Yusuf had listened to this narrative with the deepest interest, but his mind did not jump so readily at the conclusion of the sanguine Rachel.

"This is sudden," he said, "and should I find the Sheik, he may deny his pledge after so long a time."

"Impossible!" interrupted Rachel; "an Arab will not refuse aid to an ordinary claimant, who seeks hospitality in his tent. How can a Chief deny his pledge? If it were possible, he would be shamed and outcast from his tribe! But he will not!"

"I hope your confidence is well founded, but if anything happened to Azora before my return? O mother, I must see her first."

"No, my son," said Rachel, solemnly, "no!—not as you value her life. But delay not, every hour—nay, every minute is precious."

"Well, mother, I obey you; but you must see Azora, and tell her of my ceaseless devotion; and oh, entreat her not to be rash, but to gain time as long as possible. Pray for me on this perilous journey, and bless me, O my mother."

"God bless thee, my son, even the God of Israel bless thee, and prosper thee in the way, and bring thee back again in safety."

They embraced each other affectionately; and Yusuf, putting away the pouch safely in his bosom, returned to his own house, with a sad heart, to make a few necessary preparations for his sudden journey. These completed, he left word that he should be absent for some days on a trading expedition, and, mounting his mule, in less than an hour was wending his way through the suburbs of the town, absorbed in grief, but urged on by dread lest the fate of his betrothed should be decided before his return.

It was the day appointed for a grand hunt, and the Sultan was passing the time in an octagonal pavilion in the garden of the palace, until everything was ready to set out. Mulai Abd Er Rahman was about forty years of age, of a swarthy complexion, with regular features, and a handsome black beard and moustache; his eye was of that mild expression which can blaze out with terrific energy when excited by passion; his forehead was broad, and surmounted by a turban of fine muslin. The rest of his dress was not distinguishable from that of other Moors of rank, and over all he wore the fine Filelly hayk, which fell in graceful drapery to his feet.

He was now reclining on a Persian carpet, one arm leaning on a pile of cushions, fringed and tasselled, while the other hand held a small china tea-cup and saucer; drinking green tea being the one occupation with which the Moors fill up all their spare time, no milk is used with this tea, but the loaf-sugar is always put into the tea-pot. On the carpet was a polished brass tea-tray, with an English service of green and gold, and some plates of preserves.

The dome of the pavilion, supported on pointed arches, was brilliantly painted in every variety of arabesque, and the arches and cornices worked with stuccoed mouldings, the floor was of lozenge-shaped glazed tiles of various colours, and these lined the walls to the height of several feet from the ground. The doorway was shaded with grape-vines and jessamine on trellises.

One of the Sultan's attendants now entered, and with a deep obeisance announced that the Cadi El Faki Al Maimon had something of importance to communicate, if he might be allowed admission; and the Sultan, although vexed at the unseasonable intrusion, gave his permission, with the usual "Bismillah," and the Cadi appeared. He was motioned to a seat at the lower end of the carpet; he then proceeded to lay the case of the Jewess before the Sultan, with sundry invocations of God's favour on the Khalifa of the Prophet and protector of the faith; and added that the infidel had denied the facts, and appealed to his exalted footstool; and that such being the case, she was now removed from his jurisdiction.

The Sultan was not naturally blood-thirsty, but could be cruel when governed by revenge or cupidity; and after hearing the Cadi's statement it occurred to him, that it would save him trouble if he allowed the Jewess, whom he plainly saw had been falsely accused, to return to her own persuasion if it could be done without contravening the law.

"God is great! You say the woman denies the charge; (enlighten thy servant, O Mohammed!) Is it not written of the infidel, that he shall voluntarily repeat his confession before the Cadi and the Ameers to make the ceremony legal?"

"Wonderful! Our lord the prince can teach the law to us his slaves; but is it right to allow indulgence to the infidels, to the injury of the faith?"

"I will take care of the interests of religion, the cause is now before me, you are no longer responsible. Where is the infidel?"

"She must be arrived by this time," said the Cadi; "but if I might presume to advise—"

"Enough, priest," said the Sultan, with a movement of impatience, and a look that Al Maimon did not think it safe to brave. "You are dismissed from attendance."

"May blessings be increased on our Lord the Sultan," he answered, and left the presence, as Azora was introduced between two soldiers.

When a Jew, of whatever rank, is introduced to the Sultan, though it be to bring him presents, he is always brought in by two guards grasping his collar, and thrown down on his face, then dragged up again and held, as though he were a criminal. But guided by a natural feeling of respect for a woman, Azora was merely left standing on the carpet, and the attendants retired. She could not forbear trembling before one whose word was fate, and on an occasion of less importance would hardly have been able to bear up against her emotions; but she felt she was a champion of her faith, and collected all her courage for the emergency. The Sultan had taken up a letter, which he was listlessly reading, and by a sign gave her permission to speak.

"May the king live for ever!" she said. "I have been falsely accused by perjured men of forsaking the faith of my fathers. I have appealed to your exalted tribunal, and I now ask for justice in the name of God!"

At the first sweet sounds of that soft voice, the Sultan had raised his eyes, and remained gazing at the beautiful vision that stood before him. The flowing veil which had concealed her person had fallen, hanging in loose folds from her left shoulder; and as she proceeded, her large dark eyes were fixed on the arbiter of her cause, her finely modelled hand and arm were raised in invocation of the Deity, and then dropped slowly to her side. It was enough, her fate was irrevocably sealed. And a slight hint from his own evil nature had gone further in proving the soundness of the Cadi's advice, than if he had supported it by all the texts in the Koran. Invested with the most arbitrary power, and unaccustomed to any opposition in such cases, he stood on little ceremony, when his only feeling was, that he was conferring a favour. Rising, he approached her, with an air of gracious familiarity.

"Think you," said he, taking her hand, "that I can be such a traitor to our Prophet's cause as to allow such beauty to shine on infidels. Still I have the power to send you back free—and make your accusers' heads roll at your feet. It depends on you," he continued, drawing her towards him. "Give the command, which shall seal the death of your enemies—your own triumph—and my happiness!"

"Mock me not, my lord," said Azora, extricating herself from his hold, as she perceived his meaning. "I am unworthy of my lord's notice. I ask not the death of mine enemies. I ask not my life at the price of degraded innocence. I ask but justice! And oh! for the sake of that just God, whom you profess to adore, and who will bless the protector of the oppressed, oh, restore me to my poor mother! Save me! oh, save me!" and she buried her face in her veil, and burst into tears.

The Sultan's first impression was astonishment at meeting with such a rebuff, and then his dignity was offended by the boldness of her speech, but his anger was checked by her grief, which even he could not behold unmoved; he attributed it, however, to a womanish fear of death; but was quite incredulous as to her resolution holding out so far as to brave it. He thought it better to give her time for reflection, and throwing himself on the cushions, said mildly, "Your fate is in your own hands. Think on your danger, for I alone can save you." And summoning his attendants, he directed them to conduct her to the hareem in the palace. Azora, her eyes streaming with tears, hopelessly followed her guide to the women's apartments, where we must leave her to gather strength for the new trials which she foresaw awaited her.