Читать книгу Ben Hamed: or, The Children of Fate - Sylvanus Cobb - Страница 5

Table of Contents

As soon as Assad had secured the jewels, he sat down to the table where he was in the habit of reading and writing—for he kept nearly all of his master's accounts—and having drawn the lamp near him, he proceeded to open the packet he had received. He cut the cord, and, when the leathern case was off, he came to another of blue silk, which was bound on only by a ribbon. This he easily removed, and within he found a book-like case of solid gold, profusely set with precious stones. For a while he gazed upon the rich case with wonder, but he soon noticed a clasp, and having removed this, the case opened, and Assad beheld the picture of the most beautiful female face he had ever seen. For a long while he sat and gazed upon that face ere he could fully realize all its loveliness. The hair was like the deep night, and the face like a radiant sun. Upon every feature beauty sat enthroned, and the whole was a perfect heaven of beauty and purity. The youth continued to gaze until his head and heart both ached, and then he let the case fall upon the table. He closed his eyes, but still the face was present to his vision. He looked upon picture again, and this time he pressed it to his lips, and murmured a few broken sentences of passionate feeling.

The youth now remembered how he had come by the picture, and he began to wonder where the old lamp-mender got it. In short, he wondered about everything connected with the affair, and he prayed that daylight might come quickly, so that he could go and find the old man.

As soon as sun was up Assad was dressed, and having looked once more upon the picture, he started off in search of the lamp-mender. He found the quarter of the merchants of Balsora, and he inquired for Mokanna. He was directed to the old man's stall, but it was closed, and no one knew where the lamp-mender lived. Assad waited an hour, but Mokanna did not come, and, then the youth remembered the business he had to do with Ali Shir, and he turned unwillingly away, to do his duty. He went to his apartments and got the jewels, and then proceeded to the dwelling of the Syndic of the merchants, who had just returned. Assad was at once conducted to the merchant's private apartment, where the jewels were produced.

"By Allah!" cried Ali Shir, as he handled over the valuable trinkets, "these are glorious. Never a queen was adorned with aught more beautiful."

Assad seconded the laudatory remarks of the merchant, and at length the jewels were selected, the Syndic having chosen more than half of all the youth had brought. The price of these was found to be seven thousand pieces of gold, and upon looking in his coffer, Ali Shir found that he had not half of that sum with him.

"It is all at my shop," he said.

"I can wait here while you go and bring it," returned Assad; "for my master bade me bring him the money."

"Certainly. That is just. He who sells is worthy of the price. Remain you here in this room—here are books to beguile the time—while I go to my shop and get the money."

So Ali Shir went away, and Assad was left alone. He drew forth the case from his bosom and opened it, and while he was gazing upon the picture a door was opened which he had not before noticed, and a female entered the apartment. Assad looked up, and with a quick cry he started to his feet. He saw the living counterpart of the picture before him.

But the conduct of the maiden was not less strange, for no sooner did she see Assad's face than she uttered a low cry, and sank down insensible. The youth sprang forward and raised the beautiful girl in his arms and bore her to a seat, and in a moment afterwards she revived. When she opened her eyes she found Assad bending over her, with one arm about her waist.

"Who art thou?" she whispered.

"I am Assad, the slave of the Syndic of the money-changers. Now, who art thou?"

"I am Morgiana, the slave girl of the Syndic of merchants."

"And why did you swoon at the sight of me?" asked Assad.

"Tell me first why you were started upon beholding me," returned Morgiana, gazing up into the youth's face with an expression so tender that his heart was gone from him.

Assad reached forth and took the golden case and shewed it to her.

"Here," he said, "is the cause of my emotion. Do you recognize it?"

The maiden took the golden case, and as she saw her own face pictured therein, she was moved by a powerful emotion. Then she put her hand within her own bosom, and drew therefrom a case exactly like the one she held in her hand, and this she handed to Assad. He took it and opened it, and his emotions may be better imagined than described, when he found his own likeness contained within, and surely executed by the same hand which had painted the other.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, as soon as he could command his speech.

"I have had it four days," she answered. "I was at the shop of a jeweller, with one of my female companions, when an old man entered, asking alms. I gave him a piece of silver, and he asked me to raise my veil, saying at the same time that he could not receive alms from one he could not see. I raised my veil, for I could not refuse so old a man so simple a request. As soon as he saw my face he beckoned for me to step aside, and then he gave me a packet, the covering of which was leather, neatly stitched up, and told me 'twas sent to me by one who knew me well. I asked him many questions, but he would answer me nothing; only he told me his name was Mokanna, and that his shop was near the bazaar of the Balsora merchants. I have sent my trusty girl there, twice, but she could not find him. Why did you send it to me?"

"Me?" uttered Assad. "I did not send it!"

"Then who should?" asked Morgiana, wonderingly.

"There is the mystery. Do you not see that you are in the same plight? Did you send me that?" at the same time pointing to the picture of herself, which she now held in her hand.

"No, no—as God is most merciful, I did not!"

"Then who should?"

"By Allah! I must answer thee as thou answeredst me—there is the mystery."

"And is it not most wonderful?" pursued Assad, gazing tenderly into the maiden's beautiful face.

"It is indeed," replied Morgiana, returning the gaze of the handsome youth.

"And more than this," added Assad, "I know that these pictures were never painted in Bagdad. One hand did them both, and you may see from the curious workmanship of the cases, and from the setting of the stones, that they were never fashioned here. Such devices are unknown in Bagdad; and yet, who out of this city can know me, since I was born in Elkader's house?"

"And I, too was born here," said the maiden; "here in this very house, if Ali Shir speaks truly. So who should know me?"

"I must see the old man," resumed Assad, "and from him I may gain some information."

At this juncture they both bowed their heads, and soon an idea which had escaped Morgiana's mind, came to her; nor is it strange that the thought should have been present with her, since this was the merchant's most private apartment, into which none came but by his command, she having been ordered, on the previous day, to appear here at the present time.

"How gained you access here?" she asked, with much earnestness.

"I came with jewels from which Ali Shir was to select for your bridal equipment. He had not all the money to pay for them, and he left me here while he went to his shop to bring it. You are to be wedded with his son, Hassan."

The youth's voice trembled as he spoke this last sentence, and tears filled his eyes. Morgiana gazed full upon him, and it was with a mighty effort that she kept her emotions from overcoming her.

"Would you keep that picture you hold in your hands?" she asked.

Assad gazed upon it. It was the picture of himself.

"No, no," he answered, "for in my mirror I may see it at any moment. Let me rather have that one which is of right mine, for I cannot live without it."

"Then take it," the maiden said, at the same time handing him the semblance of herself. "But I must have the other, for the old man gave it me, and it is mine."

So Assad gave her the likeness of himself, and she put it away in her bosom, from whence she had first taken it. Then the youth put the likeness of the beautiful girl into his bosom, and a tear fell upon his hand as he did so.

"Will you give your hand to Hassan?" he asked, tremulously.

"And if I should?"

"Then I can only cherish thine image in my heart till the pangs of my deep love take away my life."

"You do love me then?" faintly murmured Morgiana, striving with all her might to seem calm.

"O, as the angels love their God, and as the gentle dove loves its mate. Thy heart shall never know a love more true than mine."

A moment Morgiana gazed into the youth's face, and then her emotions overcame her, and with one low sob of joy, she fell upon his bosom. How long they remained thus, neither of them could tell, but they were aroused by hearing the voice of Ali Shir in the hall, and Morgiana started to her feet in an instant.

"My master cometh," she cried, "and I must hasten away."

"But how shall I see thee again?" eagerly asked Assad. "O, the merchant will make thee marry with his son."

"No, no—he shall not. If you cannot see me before, I will plead indisposition. I will feign some dreadful malady. We can do something. Go to the shop of Mokanna till you find him. Go seek the old man, and in the meantime, peace be with thee, and may God, whose name be adored, smile upon our loves."

Assad pressed the beauteous being once more to his bosom, and having imprinted a warm kiss upon her pure brow, she darted away, and the youth had just composed himself, when the merchant entered.

Ali Shir paid down the money, and Assad gathered up the remaining jewels, and having secured the gold, departed.