Читать книгу Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara - Le Queux William - Страница 18

So earnestly she spoke that I felt convinced there was in her life some hideous mystery, and that those who held power over her she regarded with abject terror. Besides, her frequent allusions to the uncertainty of her life made it plain that she was apprehensive of a swift and terrible doom.

Though some of her words and actions were, strange and incomprehensible, and the effects I had witnessed at the weird Shrine of Darkness had, I reflected, been probably produced by some kind of mechanical ingenuity, yet there was something even more remarkable about this Pearl of the Harem than her entrancing beauty. Her actions led me to the conclusion that she was actually the woman reputed by the Ennitra to be possessed of superhuman power, and every moment I now spent in her company deepened my curiosity concerning her.

The mystery by which she was enveloped was puzzling. I felt myself bewildered.

That she was well versed in Oriental mystic, rites was certain, but whether she had actually produced the results I had witnessed without some ingenious trickery I was half inclined to doubt.

Nevertheless, I loved her blindly. Her beauty fascinated me, and her words in soft, musical Arabic that fell upon my ears entranced me.

“Then thou wilt go?” she said fondly, entwining her arm around my neck. “Thou, the Amîn, to whom may the Bestower of Good Gifts be merciful, art willing to face all the terrors of the long journey for my sake?”

“Yes, Zoraida,” I replied, looking straight into her dark orbs. “Already thou hast saved my life. If it lieth within my power I will save thine.”

“Then we must lose no time,” she exclaimed suddenly. Leaving me, she crossed the harem, and took a sheet of paper and an ink-horn from a little cabinet inlaid with silver and mother-of-pearl, returning to where I was standing. Sinking upon her soft divan, she spread out the paper upon a little coffee-stool, and wrote in Arabic character the following: —

“O revered servant of Allah, learned and mighty, thou whose face is as a lamp unto those who walk in the darkness and in error stray from the path, unto thee I send salutation. The One Worthy of Praise made earth for a carpet, and it is written upon the tablet that Allah, Giver of Good Gifts, is the living One. May he who despiseth the revelation enter into the Companionship of the Left Hand, and dwell for ever in Al Sâhira. To seek an elucidation of the Great Mystery, the Roumi, into whose hands have I given the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, journeyeth afar unto thee. Know, O Friend, deadly peril surroundeth me. Of a verity the day hath come when the Great Secret may be revealed, for by its knowledge my life may be spared. Wherefore I beseech thee to grant him audience, and direct his footsteps into the valley of felicity, for assuredly mine enemies may be dumbfounded if thou wiliest.

“In fear have we flown into the refuge of patience, praying to the Answerer of our Supplications to grant us endurance. When our prayer for the Great Elucidation hath been responded to, the skirts of thine innocence shall be purified from the mire of suspicion, and – if it pleaseth Allah – by the blessing of thy devotions will our petition be heard, and from us will our affliction be removed. May the Beneficent Granter of Requests be gracious unto the Roumi and give him prosperity. Upon thee likewise be perfect peace. Sister.”

As she carefully penned the intricate lines, I noticed for the first time that across the back of her right hand – the hand that bore my ring – was a small red scar about an inch in length, and I silently wondered how it had been caused.

“There,” she exclaimed at last, as she appended with a flourish the characters “Okht” which apparently she used as her signature, “together with the Crescent of Glorious Wonders convey this my message to Hadj Mohammed ben Ishak, the chief imam of the mosque at Agadez. He will understand my desire. Tell him that thou hast accompanied me unto the Shrine of Darkness, where I recovered the key to the hidden mystery, but that knowledge was, alas! not imparted to thee. He will then instruct thee how to act.”

“To Agadez?” I echoed, dismayed, remembering that it lay far south beyond the Great Sahara, with nearly two thousand miles of trackless and almost waterless wilderness between it and civilisation.

“Yes; I told thee that the only spot where knowledge can be given thee, and by which thou canst effect my rescue, was far distant. Dost thou fear to travel thither?”

I hesitated in uncertainty. Well I knew how tedious and perilous would be the long journey, for the hostility of the tribes through whose country I should have to pass constituted a terror even as great as the enormous difficulties and frightful hardships that I must encounter for many weeks, perhaps months, in the Great Sahara itself. But the earnest look of pleading in her splendid eyes decided me.

“I will go, Zoraida. If it is thy will, I shall start to-morrow,” I said.

“Thou wilt traverse the Great Desert for my sake – for my sake?” she exclaimed, kissing my hand as I took the missive she had folded. “When I named thee the Amîn I was not mistaken. Hadj Mohammed will be expecting thee.”

“Why?”

“Because he will receive early knowledge that the Crescent of Glorious Wonders is in thy custody. Remember, if lost, it could never be replaced, having been revealed and given unto us by the Power that is all-powerful. Thou wilt undertake this mission in order to save my life, to save me from the horrible fate that threateneth to overwhelm me. When the Secret hath been imparted, and thou hast used it according to instructions that will be given by the aged chaplain of the daily prayers, then wilt thou return to me – and to peace.”

“But how shall I find thee? Many moons may perchance rise and fade ere I return to Algiers.”

“Assuredly I shall know thy whereabouts,” she replied briefly. “Travel swiftly. The horse I gave thee on the night I severed thy bonds will carry thee back from Biskra to El Biodh. Then with camels travel over the vast northern Touareg and the mountains of Adrar, guarding well thy life through Djanet until thou comest to Mount Equelles. From there thou wilt be compelled to guide thyself by the sun over the Desert to the palms of Issalà, where thou wilt find also dates, forage, and water. Another long and weary course of travel will bring thee at last to Assiou, thence journeying due south past Azarara and along the great rocky valleys of Aïr, where dwell thine enemies, thou wilt at length enter the gate of Agadez, the City of the Sorcerers, wherein the strange mystery lieth hidden.”

The exact position of Agadez was, I reflected, somewhat uncertain. Generally believed to be about eighteen hundred miles from Algiers as the swallow flies, it was placed by most maps at the extreme south of the Azarara country, to the west of Lake Tsâd; but among European geographers there was a certain amount of doubt as to its exact position and best approach, for maps of that remote district differ considerably. However, I had decided to set out to seek this aged imam for Zoraida’s sake, and meant to do my utmost to accomplish my mission.

Leaning before me in silence against a marble column, with her hands clasped behind her head, her jewels scintillating in the softly-tempered light, her sequins tinkling musically, her rich silks rustling, her scented bosom rising and falling as she breathed, she looked a veritable sultana, a woman for whom any man might have sacrificed his very soul.

“Remember always, O Cecil, that my thoughts follow thee,” she said softly. “Remember, when thou facest the terrors which are inevitable, that there is one woman who is trusting to thee alone to save her. Perhaps ere long I shall return to our palace in the impenetrable mountains beyond Tiouordeouïn; nevertheless my thoughts will be constantly of thee, for now I am convinced of thy love and fearlessness. May Allah, the One Merciful, guard thee, and may all thine enemies perish!”

Placing my arm slowly around her slim waist, encircled by a golden girdle, I drew her towards me, and she kissed me with hot feverish lips.

“I cannot bear the thought, Zoraida, that thou mayest wander again with thy relatives and clansmen over the burning Desert, and witness those awful scenes of plunder and massacre. Ah! if I could but think that thou wouldst be safe here during my absence.”

She sighed, toying with the jewelled scent-bottle suspended upon her breast, the little trinket that contained the antidote.

“Already have I told thee my life is very uncertain,” she exclaimed gloomily. “Even to-night I might fall a victim. The tyranny of unpropitious times hath thrown the stone of separation upon us. I might – ”

“No, no,” I interrupted. “Thou art safe here, surely. Be patient, and keep a stout heart until I return. Thou knowest I love thee dearly, and will strive unceasingly to accomplish my mission quickly and successfully.”

“Yes. I shall be thinking always of thee – always,” she said softly.

“And when I return I shall have learned the mysterious Secret which is so absolutely necessary for our mutual welfare.”

“Ah, Cecil, my Amîn! I love thee! I love thee! As sure as the sun will illumine to-morrow’s dawn, so surely will I – ”

Her passionate words were suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the big negro who had guarded the door of the harem. He rushed in with a look of abject terror upon his dark, brutal countenance, whispering some hasty words into his mistress’s ear that caused her to become agitated and deathly pale.

“Quick! Hasten, or I am lost!” she cried, turning to me.

“What danger threateneth?” I inquired in surprise.

“Leave me! Leave me! Thou must not be discovered!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Take this, the Crescent, and turn thy face towards the Desert to-morrow. Remember the instructions I have given thee; and, above all, promise to seek no explanation of what thou mayest hear or see regarding me until thou hast returned from Agadez.”

“I promise,” I replied, as for a second I held her in my arms and our lips met in passionate farewell.

“Quick! The Roumi! In Allah’s name, save him!” she cried, turning to the gorgeously-attired Soudanese who stood near, like a gigantic statue.

“Follow,” he commanded; and, crossing the room, drew aside some silken hangings, disclosing another small door, of the existence of which I had been unaware.

I turned. Zoraida had flung herself with languorous abandon upon her divan, with her hand pressed to her bejewelled forehead. Her wistful eyes followed me, and as I waved her a last farewell, she said —

“Go, my Amîn! May Allah give thee perfect peace!” Through the open door we passed, and the negro, closing it, bolted it from the outside, leaving us in total darkness.

“Keep silence. Grasp my arm, and I will lead thee,” said the man, but ere he had uttered the words, there came from the harem a loud, piercing shriek – the cry of a woman!

It was Zoraida’s voice!

“Hark!” I gasped, with bated breath. “Listen! That voice was hers! Let us return.”

“No,” he replied gruffly. “That is impossible.”

“But the cry was one of terrible agony!”

“Slaves of the harem never interfere without orders. Death is the penalty of the Infidel found within the precincts sacred to the women,” he answered coldly.

I turned to unbolt the door, but his sinewy hand grasped me by the neck, and without any further explanation I was half dragged through several dark, close-smelling passages, and down a flight of broken stone steps, until we came to a heavy door.

“At least thou canst tell me who is the owner of this place,” I said, slipping a couple of gold coins into his ready palm.

“I cannot. My mistress hath commanded my silence,” he answered, pocketing the bribe, nevertheless.

“May I learn nothing, then?” I asked.

“No. Our Queen of the Desert hath taken every precaution that thou shalt obtain no knowledge of certain facts. For her own sake secrecy is imperative, therefore, if thou holdest her in respect, seek not to loosen my tongue with thy gold.”

Then he pushed me gently but firmly outside, and with a parting word closed the iron-studded door again. The key grated in the lock as it was secured, and, gazing round, I found myself in the narrow crooked street.

For a few moments I hesitated. The moon shone brightly, and all was quiet, for it was long past midnight.

After a final look at the gloomy, mysterious house, I plunged into the labyrinth of Arab thoroughfares, and, half dazed by the strange, dreamy experience, I walked on, descending the steep, intricate streets, trusting to chance to bring me into the Place du Gouvernement, in the European quarter, wherein was situated my hotel.