Читать книгу For Love of a Bedouin Maid - Le Voleur - Страница 9

For three weeks St. Just lay in bed in the house of Halima's father, for the greater part of the time unconscious; for—what with his wound and bruises, the excitement he had undergone and the great heat—on the day after the attack on the house, he fell into a raging fever. Once General Buonaparte came to see him, but the young officer did not know him.

During all this time Halima helped to nurse him, and, so true is it that we acquire affection for the objects of our care, each day she felt herself more drawn towards him.

At last his mind came back to him, and he began to gain strength fast; so much so, that he realized, with great dejection, that, in a few days, he would have to return to his duties, and bid farewell to the Arab girl who had wound herself about his heart. Now, in the game of love there is often much finesse and subterfuge. He would have given anything, to know Halima's sentiments towards himself, but it so happened, that in proportion as St. Just gained consciousness and strength, so did she withdraw herself from his society, until at last she would spend but a few minutes of each day in his company, and then only in the presence of another person. Had he known how assiduously she had attended him during his term of insensibility, his mind would have been at rest, for the knowledge would have given him the information he desired, and he would have declared the love that was consuming him. As it was, fearing to offend her by his precipitancy, he said nothing, when he left her, except to thank her for the shelter and attention she had given him.

Halima blushed and hung her head, and, though longing for him to take her in his arms, with her Eastern bringing up, was too shy to give him an inkling of her feelings; and so they parted, each outwardly calm, but with a devouring flame within.

His duties, when he returned to them, he found irksome, for thought of her, though they were really light—nothing beyond an hour's drill daily with his regiment.

In this way two months passed, but more stirring times were coming; this was the calm that heralded the storm. The conquered citizens of Cairo, though, to all appearance, acquiescing with cheerfulness and content in the new order of things, were in reality planning a revolt, and the knowledge of it was brought to St. Just's ears in this way.

At five o'clock in the morning of the 21st of October, his servant aroused him to say that a messenger from the "Lady Halima" wished to see him. St. Just dressed with all speed, and Halima's messenger was introduced. He was the bearer of a letter from her to say that she was assured on authority, on which she could implicitly rely, that the citizens had for some time been quietly arming themselves, and that they were at that very moment silently massing themselves throughout the city, and would, at a certain signal, rise simultaneously in the different quarters, and massacre the French.

This news was as startling as it was alarming, and St. Just instantly had the reveille sounded and ordered his squadron to horse; then hurried towards the citadel. But, meantime, the insurrection had begun, and General Buonaparte, at the first alarm, had also galloped thither, attended by three Guides. But he was ahead of the young officer, so that when, a few minutes later, the latter came on the scene, he found Buonaparte surrounded by a mob of Arabs, his escort killed, his horse shot under him, and himself in imminent peril of his life.

Just in the nick of time St. Just and his troop dashed forward, and by the impetuosity of their onslaught, broke through the crowd, forced them back, and soon cleared a space around their General. But the Arabs were only checked, not broken, and, seeing the small number of their assailants, they prepared to renew the attack; and, had their courage but equalled their numerical advantage, they must have annihilated the Frenchmen.

From the French point of view, discretion was the better part of valor, and St. Just saw the means of putting that better part into execution; for it so happened that, once more, he was close to the Lady Halima's abode. To suggest to Buonaparte that they should take refuge there, to mount the General on one of his trooper's horses, and to gallop at full speed through the gateway of the house was the work but of a few seconds. Before the astonished Arabs had divined their object, the whole squadron had passed through, and the entrance to the courtyard had been barred.

St. Just's heart beat high at the thought that, for the second time, it seemed likely he would have to defend the house of his lady love; but, on this occasion, with the added responsibility for the safety of his Commander's person.

To set against this, however, were the circumstances that they were in sufficient numbers (fifty) to hold the place, with the protection of the walls afforded, for a considerable time, and were well-armed; not, as on the previous occasion, with obsolete and rusty weapons.

But, fortunately, the valor and endurance of the party were not put to the test; for the arrangements for defence had scarcely been completed, when the march of infantry was heard approaching at the double. A French regiment was passing the end of the narrow street on its way to the citadel, news having been received that most of the rioters were assembled there.

At the sound of their footsteps, some of St. Just's troopers leaned out of the windows and shouted for help. At once the men were halted, then wheeled round and up the street. The effect was magical! with shouts and cries of terror, the crowd of Arabs assembled before the Lady Halima's house, without making the slightest show of fight, took to their heels and ran helter-skelter up the street and out at the end, some of the French soldiers chasing them to that point. Then the door of the house was opened, and one of the troopers informed the commanding officer the meaning of their presence there, and that General Buonaparte was with them. At this unlooked for news, the officer said he would see the General and take his orders.

Now, though when the attack was made on him, Buonaparte was on his way to the citadel, at the sight of the Lady Halima he—always an admirer of the other sex—was so captivated by her beauty, that he gladly accepted her invitation to remain for breakfast. So, when the Colonel of the infantry regiment was introduced to him, instead of taking advantage of his escort to continue his journey to the citadel, he contented himself with giving the officer certain orders, among which was that he was to keep open communications between the house in which they were, and the citadel; and to let him know if his presence should be urgently required. Failing any such message, he, Buonaparte, would be at the citadel in two hours time.

Then he dismissed the Colonel and he and St. Just sat down to breakfast with the Lady Halima in the women's apartment. It brought to St. Just the remembrance of that first repast he had taken with her in that very room, nearly three months before, and in somewhat similar circumstances. Now, as then, there were sounds of firing in the distance, and the tramp of feet and the rattle of arms awoke the echoes of the court-yard below. But in the room itself how different was the state of things. She had been his sole companion on that memorable morning, and he had been the object of her assiduous courtesy; now, in the presence of this all-conquering young General, he was a sort of "quantité négligeable." As before, the sun-light fell with full effect upon her lovely face, now filled with animation, her eyes sparkling with delight, the while she gayly chatted with the "man of destiny" who was seated upon the divan facing her. Buonaparte, for once, had cast off the iron mask of coldness and impenetrability he usually wore, and was basking in the sunshine of her smiles. For the time the cares of his position had been thrust aside, and, as he himself expressed it, he was amusing himself while Cairo was in revolt, like Nero fiddling while Rome was burning.

His chatter was not, however, altogether frivolous; occasionally he would be serious. For instance, speaking of the city and his plans he said, "I must confess that to-day's disturbance has surprised me. And I had thought the future would be so easy. Alas! which one of us knows the future?"

The girl, who had been listening intently, here interrupted with a laugh. "You would know your future? That is told easily enough. Remember I have been brought up in the East and have been taught to forecast events by people who have forgotten more than you of the West have ever heard of. I could convince you."

So saying, she clapped her hands and, before Buonaparte could object, if indeed he had wished to do so, had said something to her slave in Arabic, that resulted in the removal of the breakfast table and the production of a large earthenware bowl filled apparently with water, for she invited both men to taste it. One thing they noticed, and it was this; that, though the bowl was shallow and the sunlight shone around on the table on which it stood, it did not seem to shine upon the water, which looked black as ink.

Presently from a flask, she took from a corner cabinet the girl let fall a drop of liquid into the bowl; then, bending over, she gazed into it in silence, and both her companions did the same. Now, whether the act of fixing their eyes intently on the bowl, in a measure hypnotized them, so that their brains became enslaved by her suggestions, it is not for the present chronicler to say; but, in a few seconds, pictures seemed to form themselves on the surface of the inky looking liquid in the bowl. At first the images presented appeared blurred and misty; but, gradually, they took definite shapes. In the first picture Buonaparte was seated on a throne and on his head was a golden crown, and Josephine his wife was by his side, she also crowned. Gradually the figures faded and disappeared. Next St. Just saw himself on a prison floor chained to the wall and with the visage of a madman. In the next tableau there were many figures dressed in generals' uniforms, and Buonaparte in their midst. It was night and they were seated round a camp fire; from the expression on the faces of all, very serious matters were engaging their attention; and scattered around were dead and wounded men and horses and broken weapons and accoutrements. This scene also passed away. In that which followed Buonaparte and St. Just were driving in a sleigh, and in front of them was a woman beckoning to them. Her face was unknown to both; upon her head was the crown that Buonaparte's wife had worn in the first picture; and, wherever she pointed was desolation, the desolation that comes to a country over which an invading army has passed; and across the picture was written "France." The next tableau was a battle field. On a mound, surrounded by generals, but slightly in advance of them, and mounted on a white horse, was Buonaparte, but looking older and stouter. A short distance from him, soldiers were massed about a large farmhouse, which they were attacking, and which was being defended by other soldiers within. The scene changed; troops were flying in all directions—the French—the figure of Buonaparte among them. Yet one more scene; a lonely rock-bound islet in a boundless sea. The moon and stars overhead showed that it was night. On a narrow bed in a plainly furnished room lay Buonaparte; and at the door there stood a soldier in a uniform that was not that of France. 'Twas plain his duty was to guard a captive! This vision, like those which had preceded it, vanished, and the liquid mirror in the bowl revealed no further pictures.

St. Just raised his head from the bowl and encountered the troubled gaze of Buonaparte; while, seated hard by on a divan, was the girl. There was silence for a space. It was Halima who broke it.

"Have you seen enough, Sir?" she said, turning to the General. "Or would you see more?"

Buonaparte's answer was to overturn the table; the bowl fell and was smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor. Then a sudden light leapt into those awful eyes, and he broke forth into a torrent of reproach. "Why did you bring me here?" he asked angrily, turning to St. Just. "Am I to be insulted, fooled by such mummeries as these? As for you, girl, did I but know your father, I would send you to him dead." And he hissed out the last words, his face white with passion.

And St. Just, who loved the girl and was rightly counted brave, and would have struck to the earth any other man who had so spoken, was so dominated by the glance of this little man, whom physically he could easily have crushed the life out of; that he sat unmoved and tongue-tied.

Not so the girl; with face aflame and flashing eyes, she sprang to her feet and faced the conqueror; then thus she spoke, "My father the Sheik Ibrahim of the tribe of Auim (faithful) has with him many warriors who would avenge my death by killing you."

Buonaparte made no reply to her, but addressed himself to the young officer. "Captain," he said, "Assemble your troop and attend me to the Citadel. We have dallied here too long." Then, turning to the Lady Halima, "I thank you, madame, for your hospitality and the timely shelter of your house. Adieu. I doubt not we shall meet again." He bowed to her and strode quickly from the room. She made no answer, but merely inclined her head. But to St. Just, who followed Buonaparte, she nodded smilingly, and, just when he was passing through the doorway, the words were wafted to him, "You will come to see me soon, my Captain."

On their way to the Citadel and the moment they were out of hearing, Buonaparte made reference to the Arab girl's remark. "You heard what she said about her father," he said, "and the men under his command. He will be useful to me; he must be gained somehow. I shall send you to him." Then he relapsed into silence, and no further word was uttered till they reached the Citadel.

Here they found all quiet; the incipient insurrection had been quelled before it had attained dangerous dimensions.

The news of the attempt on Buonaparte's life had reached the French, and, when he made his appearance, loud huzzahs were raised, and many of his officers pressed forward to congratulate him on his escape. Among these were Kleber, and Buonaparte's secretary, Bourrienne. Him the General hailed.

"Ah! Bourrienne!" he cried; "the very man I want. Get writing materials, and pen me what I shall dictate."

The letter presently dictated was addressed to the Sheik Ibrahim, Halima's father, urging him to join forces with the French and, while pointing out the hopelessness of opposition, and the certainty of the eventual victory of the invaders, promising him great rewards for his assistance.

The letter was dictated in the hearing of St. Just, for Buonaparte wished him to know its contents. When it was finished, he turned to the young man and handed it to him with the words, "You will take a squadron of men and go to this Ibrahim with this letter, and use your best endeavors to induce him to adopt my views. I have heard of this man; he is a powerful chief. I think you will either fall in with him, or gain news of him in the neighborhood of the third cataract, near Abu Klea. But his daughter can inform you."

"How soon do I start, General?" asked St. Just, in a tone that was none of the liveliest. He had had his fill of desert rides, and looked forward to the coming expedition with anything but pleasure.

"To-morrow at day-break," was the General's reply. "Meanwhile your time is at your own disposal." Then, turning to Kleber, who was standing by, "General, give Captain St. Just a squadron of Arabs you can trust, and an interpreter for service in the desert, in case this sheik should not know French."

"I will see to it, Sir," was Kleber's answer. "The men shall be in readiness at day-break."

Then, with a nod, Buonaparte dismissed St. Just.

Much as he disliked the prospect of the mission that had been confided to him, there was a temporary solace in the excuse it gave him for once more calling on Halima; and not more than two hours after he and General Buonaparte had left her, she was astonished to receive the announcement of his return.

She advanced smilingly to meet him, but with a look of inquiry on her face. "I am delighted to see you again so soon, Captain St. Just, but I am not so vain as to attribute your call to my attractions, or even to your courtesy. Besides, I see trouble in your face. Are you the bearer of bad news?"

Then St. Just told her of his coming journey, and how loath he was to leave Cairo, where she was, and to face the hardships of the desert, of which he had already had so painful an experience.

When she learned his destination, she told him she would write a letter to her father, if he would bear it to him; and, there and then, she sat down and wrote it, inscribing it with her father's name and present resting-place, so far as she believed. Handing it to the young Frenchman, she said, "I have told my father all that you have done for me, and I have prayed him to protect you and put you on your way. Also I have told him of Yusuf's treachery towards a daughter of the house of "Auim." She drew herself up proudly when she mentioned her tribe's name. "He will punish Yusuf either with banishment for ever from the tribe, or with death."

St. Just took the letter from her, but his hand trembled with excitement, and he could scarce find words in which to thank her, for stress of the passion that was surging like a torrent in his breast. He tried to stem it, but it would not be confined, and at last broke forth.

"Oh, Halima!" he cried. "It is not the perils of the desert that alarm me; what cuts me to the heart is that I must leave you; for I love you, I love you; I feel that I cannot live without you. Until I saw you, my heart yearned only for military glory—to rise in my profession; but now—now I would forfeit every prospect, all else that I hold dear, if I might win your love. Tell me, lady, is there no cord in your heart that vibrates in unison with my own? Surely such love as mine cannot be all in vain. Oh, if you could only know its strength, you would pity me with such pity that, close behind it, would follow its half-sister, Love. Speak, Halima, and end my torture."

He stood back to feed his eyes upon her beauty, his breast panting and heaving in his excitement.

And she? Gradually her creamy complexion took on a warmer hue, until her face and neck were colored like the rose; the long, dark lashes veiled her limpid eyes; she raised her hand; then, to the young officer's wonder and consternation, with a little cry of joy, she ran to him and threw herself on her knees before him. "My love! my lord! my master!" she murmured rapturously. Then she seized his hand and covered it with kisses.

But to have a woman kiss his hand was more than he could bear. A feeling of shame came over him; it seemed so utter a reversal of what was fitting. The blood rushed to his face.

"Not there," he cried. "But here, close to my heart, my Halima." He raised her from the ground and folded her in his arms, she hiding her face upon his shoulder.

The hours that followed for the lovers seemed to travel with the speed of light, for they were given up wholly to loving dalliance and endearing phrases, that never seemed to weary the performers; and it was not till night was well advanced, that St. Just tore himself from the arms of the Arab girl, whom he had pledged himself to make his own, on his return, and who on her part had sworn fidelity to him.