Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/Million Book Project. See http://www. Archive. Org/details/OrientalEncounters

 +-------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been | | preserved. Inconsistent spellings of Arabic terms have been | | preserved. | | | | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this | | text. For a complete list, please see the end of this | | document. | | | +-------------------------------------------------------------+

ORIENTAL ENCOUNTERS

Palestine And Syria (1894-5-6)

by

MARMADUKE PICKTHALL

London: 48 Pall MallW. Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. Glasgow Melbourne AucklandCopyright 1918

CONTENTS

 CHAP. PAGE. 

 INTRODUCTION 1

 I. RASHÎD THE FAIR 11

 II. A MOUNTAIN GARRISON 20

 III. THE RHINOCEROS WHIP 28

 IV. THE COURTEOUS JUDGE 36

 V. NAWÂDIR 45

 VI. NAWÂDIR (_continued_) 54

 VII. THE SACK WHICH CLANKED 68

 VIII. POLICE WORK 77

 IX. MY COUNTRYMAN 87

 X. THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 96

 XI. THE KNIGHT ERRANT 106

 XII. THE FANATIC 117

 XIII. RASHÎD'S REVENGE 125

 XIV. THE HANGING DOG 134

 XV. TIGERS 142

 XVI. PRIDE AND A FALL 151

 XVII. TRAGEDY 161

 XVIII. BASTIRMA 171

 XIX. THE ARTIST-DRAGOMAN 181

 XX. LOVE AND THE PATRIARCH 188

 XXI. THE UNPOPULAR LANDOWNER 198

 XXII. THE CAÏMMACÂM 209

 XXIII. CONCERNING BRIBES 218

 XXIV. THE BATTLEFIELD 226

 XXV. MURDERERS 237

 XXVI. THE TREES ON THE LAND 245

 XXVII. BUYING A HOUSE 255

XXVIII. A DISAPPOINTMENT 264

 XXIX. CONCERNING CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 273

 XXX. THE UNWALLED VINEYARD 282

 XXXI. THE ATHEIST 291

 XXXII. THE SELLING OF OUR GUN 302

XXXIII. MY BENEFACTOR 311

INTRODUCTION

Early in the year 1894 I was a candidate for one of two vacancies inthe Consular Service for Turkey, Persia, and the Levant, but failed togain the necessary place in the competitive examination. I was indespair. All my hopes for months had been turned towards sunnycountries and old civilisations, away from the drab monotone of Londonfog, which seemed a nightmare when the prospect of escape eluded me. Iwas eighteen years old, and, having failed in one or two adventures, Ithought myself an all-round failure, and was much depressed. I dreamedof Eastern sunshine, palm trees, camels, desert sand, as of a Paradisewhich I had lost by my shortcomings. What was my rapture when mymother one fine day suggested that it might be good for me to travelin the East, because my longing for it seemed to indicate a naturalinstinct, with which she herself, possessing Eastern memories, was infull sympathy!

I fancy there was some idea at the time that if I learnt the languagesand studied life upon the spot I might eventually find somebackstairs way into the service of the Foreign Office; but that idea, though cherished by my elders as some excuse for the expenses of myexpedition, had never, from the first, appealed to me; and from themoment when I got to Egypt, my first destination, it lost whateverlustre it had had at home. For then the European ceased to interestme, appearing somehow inappropriate and false in those surroundings. At first I tried to overcome this feeling or perception which, while Ilived with English people, seemed unlawful. All my education untilthen had tended to impose on me the cult of the thing done habituallyupon a certain plane of our society. To seek to mix on an equalitywith Orientals, of whatever breeding, was one of those things whichwere never done, nor even contemplated, by the kind of person who hadalways been my model. 

My sneaking wish to know the natives of the country intimately, likeother unconventional desires I had at times experienced, might haveremained a sneaking wish until this day, but for an accident whichfreed me for a time from English supervision. My people had providedme with introductions to several influential English residents inSyria, among others to a family of good position in Jerusalem; and itwas understood that, on arrival in that country, I should go directlyto that family for information and advice. But, as it chanced, onboard the ship which took me to Port Said from Naples I met a man whoknew those people intimately--had been, indeed, for years an inmate oftheir house--and he assumed the office of my mentor. I stayed inCairo, merely because he did, for some weeks, and went with him on thesame boat to Jaffa. He, for some unknown reason--I suspectinsanity--did not want me in Jerusalem just then; and, when we landed, spun me a strange yarn of how the people I had thought to visit wereexceedingly eccentric and uncertain in their moods; and how it wouldbe best for me to stop in Jaffa until he sent me word that I was sureof welcome. His story was entirely false, I found out later, a libelon a very hospitable house. But I believed it at the time, as I didall his statements, having no other means of information on thesubject. 

So I remained at Jaffa, in a little _gasthaus_ in the German colony, which had the charms of cleanliness and cheapness, and there I mighthave stayed till now had I awaited the tidings promised by mycounsellor. There for the first two weeks I found life very dull. ThenMr. Hanauer, the English chaplain, and a famous antiquarian, took pityon my solitary state, walked me about, and taught me words of Arabic. He was a native of Jerusalem, and loved the country. My sneaking wishto fraternise with Orientals, when I avowed it after hesitations, appeared good to him. And then I made acquaintance with a cleverdragoman and one of the most famous jokers in all Syria, who happenedto be lodging at my little hostelry, with nothing in the world to dobut stare about him. He helped me to throw off the European and plungeinto the native way of living. With him I rode about the plain ofSharon, sojourning among the fellâhîn, and sitting in the coffee-shopsof Ramleh, Lydda, Gaza, meeting all sorts of people, and acquiring thevernacular without an effort, in the manner of amusement. From dawn tosunset we were in the saddle. We went on pilgrimage to Nebi Rubîn, themosque upon the edge of marshes by the sea, half-way to Gaza; we rodeup northward to the foot of Carmel; explored the gorges of themountains of Judæa; frequented Turkish baths; ate native meals andslept in native houses--following the customs of the people of theland in all respects. And I was amazed at the immense relief I foundin such a life. In all my previous years I had not seen happy people. These were happy. Poor they might be, but they had no dream of wealth;the very thought of competition was unknown to them, and rivalry wasstill a matter of the horse and spear. Wages and rent were troublesthey had never heard of. Class distinctions, as we understand them, were not. Everybody talked to everybody. With inequality they had atrue fraternity. People complained that they were badly governed, which merely meant that they were left to their devices save on greatoccasions. A Government which touches every individual and interfereswith him to some extent in daily life, though much esteemed byEuropeans, seems intolerable to the Oriental. I had a vision of thetortured peoples of the earth impelled by their own misery to desolatethe happy peoples, a vision which grew clearer in the after years. But in that easy-going Eastern life there is a power of resistance, as everybody knows who tries to change it, which may yet defeat thehosts of joyless drudgery. 

My Syrian friend--the Suleymân of the following sketches--introducedme to the only Europeans who espoused that life--a French Alsatianfamily, the Baldenspergers, renowned as pioneers of scientificbee-keeping in Palestine, who hospitably took a share in myinitiation. They had innumerable hives in different parts of thecountry--I have seen them near the Jaffa gardens and among themountains south of Hebron--which they transported in due season, onthe backs of camels, seeking a new growth of flowers. For a long whilethe Government ignored their industry, until the rumour grew that itwas very profitable. Then a high tax was imposed. The Baldenspergerswould not pay it. They said the Government might take the hives if itdesired to do so. Soldiers were sent to carry out the seizure. But thebee-keepers had taken out the bottom of each hive, and when thesoldiers lifted them, out swarmed the angry bees. The soldiers fled;and after that experience the Government agreed to compromise. Iremember well a long day's ride with Emile and Samuel Baldensperger, round by Askelon and Ekron, and the luncheon which a village headmanhad prepared for us, consisting of a whole sheep, roast and stuffedwith nuts and vegetables; and a day with Henri Baldensperger in theHebron region. The friendships of those days were made for life. Hanauer, the Baldenspergers, Suleymân, and other natives of thecountry--those of them who are alive--remain my friends to-day. 

In short, I ran completely wild for months, in a manner unbecoming toan Englishman; and when at length, upon a pressing invitation, Iturned up in Jerusalem and used my introductions, it was insemi-native garb and with a love for Arabs which, I was made tounderstand, was hardly decent. My native friends were objects ofsuspicion. I was told that they were undesirable, and, when I stood upfor them, was soon put down by the retort that I was very young. Icould not obviously claim as much experience as my mature advisers, whose frequent warnings to me to distrust the people of the countrythus acquired the force of moral precepts, which it is the secret joyof youth to disobey. 

That is the reason why the respectable English residents in Syriafigure in these pages as censorious and hostile, with but fewexceptions. They were hostile to my point of view, which was not thenavowed, but not to me. Indeed, so many of them showed mekindness--particularly in my times of illness--that I cannot think ofthem without a glow of friendliness. But the attitude of most of themwas never mine, and the fact that at the time I still admired thatattitude as the correct one, and thought myself at intervals a sadbackslider, made it seem forbidding. In my Oriental life they reallywere, as here depicted, a disapproving shadow in the background. Withone--referred to often in these tales--I was in full agreement. Welived together for some months in a small mountain village, and ourfriendship then established has remained unbroken. But he, though notalone, was an exception. 

Owing to the general verdict on my Arab friends, I led what might becalled a double life during the months of my first sojourn inJerusalem; until Suleymân, the tourist season being ended, came withpromise of adventure, when I flung discretion to the winds. We hiredtwo horses and a muleteer, and rode away into the north together. Afortnight later, at the foot of the Ladder of Tyre, Suleymân wasforced to leave me, being summoned to his village. I still rode ontowards the north, alone with one hired muleteer, a simple soul. Anotion of my subsequent adventures may, perhaps, be gathered from thefollowing pages, in which I have embodied fictionally some impressionsstill remaining clear after the lapse of more than twenty years. Arecord of small things, no doubt; yet it seems possible that somethinghuman may be learnt from such a comic sketch-book of experience whichwould never be derived from more imposing works. 

CHAPTER I

RASHÎD THE FAIR

The brown plain, swimming in a haze of heat, stretched far away intothe distance, where a chain of mountains trenched upon the cloudlesssky. Six months of drought had withered all the herbage. Onlythistles, blue and yellow, and some thorny bushes had survived; butafter the torrential winter rains the whole expanse would blossom likethe rose. I traversed the plain afterwards in spring, when cornfieldswaved for miles around its three mud villages, wild flowers in madprofusion covered its waste places, and scarlet tulips flamed amid itswheat. 

Now all was desert. After riding for four days in such a landscape, itwas sweet to think upon the journey's end, the city of perennialwaters, shady gardens, and the song of birds. I was picturing thescene of our arrival--the shade and the repose, the long, cool drinks, the friendly hum of the bazaars--and wondering what letters I shouldfind awaiting me, all to the tune of 'Onward, Christian soldiers'--forthe clip-clap of a horse's hoofs invariably beats out in my brain sometune, the most incongruous, against my will--when a sudden outcryroused me. It came from my companion, a hired muleteer, and soundedangry. The fellow had been riding on ahead. I now saw that he hadovertaken other travellers--two men astride of one donkey--and hadentered into conversation with them. One of the two, the hindmost, wasa Turkish soldier. Except the little group they made together, and avulture, a mere speck above them in the blue, no other living creaturewas in sight. Something had happened, for the soldier seemed amused, while my poor man was making gestures of despairing protest. Herepeated the loud cry which had disturbed my reverie, then turned hismule and hurried back to meet me. 

'My knife!' he bellowed 'My knife!--that grand steel blade which wasmy honour!--so finely tempered and inlaid!--an heirloom in the family!That miscreant, may Allah cut his life!--I mean the soldier--stole it. He asked to look at it a minute, seeming to admire. I gave it, likethe innocent I am. He stuck it in his belt, and asked to see thepassport which permitted me to carry weapons. Who ever heard of such athing in this wild region? He will not give it back, though Ientreated. I am your Honour's servant, speak for me and make him giveit back! It is an heirloom!' That grey-haired man was crying like ababy. 

Now, I was very young, and his implicit trust in my authorityenthralled me. I valued his dependence on my manhood more than goldand precious stones. Summoning all the courage I possessed, I clappedspurs to my horse and galloped after the marauder. 

'Give back that knife!' I roared. 'O soldier! it is thou to whom Ispeak. '

The soldier turned a studiously guileless face--a handsome face, withfair moustache and a week's beard. He had a roguish eye. 

'What knife? I do not understand, ' he said indulgently. 

'The knife thou stolest from the muleteer here present. '

'Oh, that!' replied the soldier, with a deprecating laugh: 'That is athing unworthy of your Honour's notice. The rogue in question is awell-known malefactor. He and I are old acquaintance. '

'By the beard of the Prophet, by the August Coran, I never saw hisdevil's face until this minute!' bawled the muleteer, who had come upbehind me. 

'Give back the knife, ' I ordered for the second time. 

'By Allah, never!' was the cool reply. 

'Give it back, I say!'

'No, it cannot be--not even to oblige your Honour, for whose pleasure, Allah knows, I would do almost anything, ' murmured the soldier, with acharming smile. 'Demand it not. Be pleased to understand that if itwere your Honour's knife I would return it instantly. But that man, asI tell thee, is a wretch. It grieves me to behold a person ofconsideration in such an unbecoming temper upon his account--a dog, nomore. '

'If he is a dog, he is my dog for the present; so give back theknife!'

'Alas, beloved, that is quite impossible. '

With a wave of the hand dismissing the whole subject the soldierturned away. He plucked a cigarette out of his girdle and prepared tolight it. His companion on the donkey had not turned his head norshown the slightest interest in the discussion. This had lasted longenough. I knew that in another minute I should have to laugh. Ifanything remained for me to do it must be done immediately. Whippingmy revolver from the holster, I held it close against the rascal'shead, yelling: 'Give back the knife this minute, or I kill thee!'

The man went limp. The knife came back as quick as lightning. I gaveit to the muleteer, who blubbered praise to Allah and made off withit. Equally relieved, I was about to follow when the utterly forlornappearance of the soldier moved me to open the revolver, showing thatit was not loaded. Then my adversary was transfigured. His backstraightened, his mouth closed, his eyes regained their oldintelligence. He stared at me a moment, half incredulous, and then helaughed. Ah, how that soldier laughed! The owner of the donkey turnedand shared his glee. They literally hugged each other, roaring withdelight, while the donkey underneath them both jogged dutifully on. 

Before a caravanserai in a small valley green with fruit-trees, besidea slender stream whose banks were fringed with oleander, I was sittingwaiting for some luncheon when the donkey and its riders came again insight. The soldier tumbled off on spying me and ran into the inn likeone possessed. A minute later he brought out the food which I hadordered and set the table for me in the shade of trees. 

'I would not let another serve thee, ' he informed me, 'for the love ofthat vile joke that thou didst put upon me. It was not loaded. Afterall my fright!. .. It is a nice revolver. Let me look at it. '

'Aye, look thy fill, thou shalt not touch it, ' was my answer; at whichhe laughed anew, pronouncing me the merriest of Adam's race. 

'But tell me, what wouldst thou have done had I refused? It was notloaded. What wouldst thou have done?'

His hand was resting at that moment on a stool. I rapped his knucklesgently with the butt of the revolver to let him know its weight. 

'Wallahi!' he cried out in admiration. 'I believe thou wouldst havesmashed my head with it. All for the sake of a poor man of no account, whom thou employest for a week, and after that wilt see no more. Efendim, take me as thy servant always!' Of a sudden he spoke veryearnestly. 'Pay the money to release me from the army. It is alargeish sum--five Turkish pounds. And Allah knows I will repay it tothee by my service. For the love of righteousness accept me, for mysoul is thine. '

I ridiculed the notion. He persisted. When the muleteer and I setforth again, he rode beside us, mounted on another donkey thistime--'borrowed, ' as he put it--which showed he was a person ofresource. 'By Allah, I can shoe a horse and cook a fowl; I can mendgarments with a thread and shoot a bird upon the wing, ' he told me. 'Iwould take care of the stable and the house. I would do everythingyour Honour wanted. My nickname is Rashîd the Fair; my garrison isKarameyn, just two days' journey from the city. Come in a day or twoand buy me out. No matter for the wages. Only try me!'

At the khan, a pretty rough one, where we spent the night, he waitedon me deftly and enforced respect, making me really wish for such aservant. On the morrow, after an hour's riding, our ways parted. 

'In sh'Allah, I shall see thee before many days, ' he murmured. 'Mynickname is Rashîd the Fair, forget not. I shall tell our captain thouart coming with the money. '

I said that I might think about it possibly. 

'Come, ' he entreated. 'Thou wouldst never shame a man who puts histrust in thee. I say that I shall tell our captain thou art coming. Ah, shame me not before the Commandant and all my comrades! Thouthinkest me a thief, a lawbreaker, because I took that fellow'sknife?' he asked, with an indulgent smile. 'Let me tell thee, O mylord, that I was in my right and duty as a soldier of the Sultan inthis province. It is that muleteer who, truly speaking, breaks the lawby carrying the knife without a permit. And thou, hast thou a passportfor that fine revolver? At the place where we had luncheon yesterdaywere other soldiers. By merely calling on them to support me I couldhave had his knife and thy revolver with ease and honesty in strictaccordance with the law. Why did I not do so? Because I love thee! Saythou wilt come to Karameyn and buy me out. '

I watched him jogging on his donkey towards a gulley of the hillsalong which lay the bridle-path to Karameyn. On all the evidence hewas a rogue, and yet my intimate conviction was that he was honest. All the Europeans in the land would lift up hands of horror andexclaim: 'Beware!' on hearing such a story. Yet, as I rode across theparched brown land towards the city of green trees and rushing waters, I knew that I should go to Karameyn. 

CHAPTER II

A MOUNTAIN GARRISON

The long day's ride was uneventful, but not so the night. I spent itin a village of the mountains at a very curious hostelry, kept by afat native Christian, named Elias, who laid claim, upon the signboard, to furnish food and lodging 'alafranga'--that is, in the modernEuropean manner. There was one large guest-room, and an adjoiningbedroom of the same dimensions, for some thirty travellers. I had tofind a stable for my horse elsewhere. A dining-table was provided, andwe sat on chairs around it; but the food was no wise European, and thecooking was degraded Greek. A knife, fork, and spoon were laid forevery guest but several cast these on the floor and used theirfingers. In the long bedroom were a dozen beds on bedsteads. Byoffering a trifle extra I secured one to myself. In others there weretwo, three, even four together. An elderly Armenian gentleman who hada wife with him, stood guard with pistols over her all night. He wasso foolish as to threaten loudly anyone who dared approach her. Afterhe had done so several times a man arose from the bed next to mine andstrolling to him seized him by the throat. 

'O man, ' he chided. 'Art thou mad or what, thus to arouse our passionsby thy talk of women? Be silent, or we honest men here present willwring thy neck and take thy woman from thee. Dost thou understand?' Heshook that jealous husband as a terrier would shake a rat. 'Be silent, hearest thou? Men wish to sleep. '

'Said I not well, O brother?' said the monitor to me, as he got backto bed. 

'By Allah, well, ' was my reply. The jealous one was silent after that. But there were other noises. Some men still lingered in the guest-roomplaying cards. The host, devoted to things European, had amusical-box--it was happily before the day of gramophones--which thecard-players kept going all night long. I had a touch of fever. Therewere insects. Sleep was hopeless. I rose while it was yet night, wentout without paying, since the host was nowhere to be seen, and, insome danger from the fierce attacks of pariah dogs, found out thevault in which my horse was stabled. Ten minutes later I was clear ofthe village, riding along a mountain side but dimly visible beneaththe stars. The path descended to a deep ravine, and rose again, up, up, interminably. At length, upon the summit of a ridge, I felt thedawn. The mountain tops were whitened like the crests of waves, whileall the clefts and hollows remained full of night. Behind me, in theeast, there was a long white streak making the mountain outlines bleakand keen. The stars looked strange; a fresh breeze fanned my cheek andrustled in the grass and shrubs. Before me, on an isolated bluff, appeared my destination, a large village, square-built like afortress. Its buildings presently took on a wild-rose blush, whichdeepened to the red of fire--a splendid sight against a dark blue sky, still full of stars. A window flashed up there. The sun had risen. 

Some English people, when informed of my intention to buy a man out ofthe Turkish Army had pronounced it madness. I did not know the peopleof the land as they did. I should be pillaged, brought to destitution, perhaps murdered. They, who had lived in the country twenty, thirtyyears, were better qualified to judge than I was. For peace and quietI pretended acquiescence, and my purpose thus acquired a taste ofstealth. It was with the feelings of a kind of truant that I had setout at length without a word to anyone, and with the same adventurousfeelings that I now drew near to Karameyn. Two soldiers, basking inthe sunshine on a dust-heap, sprang up at my approach. One was the manI sought, the rogue Rashîd. They led me to their captain's house--amodest dwelling, consisting of a single room, with hardly anyfurniture. A score of soldiers followed after us. 

The Captain--Hasan Agha--an old man, with face scarred and heavy whitemoustache, was in full uniform, and, as I entered, was engaged inputting on a pair of cotton gloves. He was one of the old 'alaïli, 'Turkish officers--those whose whole knowledge of their business wasderived from service in a regiment or 'alaï, ' instead of frominstruction at a military school; and his manner towards the men hadnothing of the martinet. He addressed them as 'my children, ' withaffection; and they, though quite respectful, conversed freely in hispresence. Hasan Agha paid me many compliments, and repeatedly inquiredafter my health. He would not hear about my business till I had hadbreakfast. Luncheon had been arranged for me, he said, but that couldnot be ready for some hours. Would I be so kind as to excuse amakeshift? Even as he spoke, a soldier entered with a tray on whichwere slabs of Arab bread, a pitcher of sour milk, and heaps of grapes. Another soldier began pounding coffee, while yet another blew upon thecharcoal in a brazier. I refused to eat unless my host ate with me, which he did only after much polite resistance. After the meal, we satand talked, the soldiers joining in the conversation. They told me ofold wars and deeds of valour. Hasan Agha was, it seemed, a famousfighter; and the men did all they could to make him tell me of hisbattles. They brought an old man in out of the town to see me becausehe had fought in the Crimean war, and knew the English. Before it grewtoo hot, they took me out to see the barracks and a ramshackle oldfieldpiece which they seemed to idolise. Then followed luncheon withits long array of Arab dishes, of which the soldiers had their shareeventually. Rashîd assured me afterwards that all the food on thisoccasion had been 'borrowed. ' That was in Abdul Hamid's golden days. After luncheon, there was coffee with more compliments; and then atlast we got to business. 

A public writer was brought in. He wrote out a receipt for me, andalso the discharge Rashîd required. Hasan Agha stamped both documentswith an official seal, and handed them to me, who gave him in exchangethe money. 

'Bismillah!' he exclaimed. 'I call all here to witness that Rashîd, the son of Ali, called the Fair, is free henceforth to go what way hechooses. '

To me he said: 'Rashîd is a good lad, and you will find him useful. The chief fault I have found in him is this: that, when obeyingorders, he is apt to think, and so invent a method of his own, notalways good. Also, he is too susceptible to female charms, a failingwhich has placed him in some strange positions. '

The last remark evoked much laughter, relating, evidently to somestanding joke unknown to me. Rashîd looked rather sheepish. Hasan Aghaturned to him, and said:

'My son, praise Allah for thy great good fortune in finding favour inthe sight of one so noble and benevolent as our beloved guest, who ishenceforth thy master. Remember, he is not as I am--one who has beenwhat thou art, and so knows the tricks. Serve him freely with thy mindand soul and conscience, not waiting for commands as in the Army. Comehither, O my son, grasp hands with me. I say, may God be with thee nowand always! Forget not all the good instruction of thy soldier days. Be sure that we shall pray for thy good master and for thee. '

The old man's eyes were wet, so were Rashîd's, so were the eyes of allthe soldiers squatting round. 

Rashîd, dismissed, went off to change his uniform for an old suit ofmine which I had brought for him, while Hasan Agha, talking of him asa father might, explained to me his character and little failings. 

At last I took my leave. Rashîd was waiting in my cast-off clothes, anew fez of civilian shape upon his head. He held my stirrup, and thenjumped on to a raw-boned beast which had been 'borrowed' for him byhis friends, so he informed me. It might be worth my while to buy itfor him, he suggested later--the price was only eight pounds Turk, themerest trifle. The whole garrison escorted us to the last houses, where they stood a long while, waving their farewells. Two hourslater, on the mountain-ridge, beyond the wady, we turned to look ourlast on Karameyn. It stood amid the flames of sunset like a castle ofthe clouds. 

We returned, then, to the 'alafranga' hostelry; but Rashîd, havingheard the story of my sleepless night, would not allow me to put upthere. I paid my debt to the proprietor, and then he found for me anempty house to which he brought a mattress and a coverlet, a lot ofcushions, a brazier, and the things required for making coffee, also atray of supper--all of them borrowed from the neighbouring houses. Imight be pillaged, brought to destitution, and eventually murdered byhim, as my friends had warned me. At least, the operation promised tobe comfortable. 

CHAPTER III

THE RHINOCEROS WHIP

'Where is the whip?' Rashîd cried, suddenly, turning upon me in thegateway of the khan where we had just arrived. 

'Merciful Allah! It is not with me. I must have left it in thecarriage. '

Rashîd threw down the saddlebags, our customary luggage, which he hadbeen carrying, and started running for his life. The carriage had gothalf-way down the narrow street half-roofed with awnings. At Rashîd'sfierce shout of 'Wait, O my uncle! We have left our whip!' the driverturned and glanced behind him, but, instead of stopping, lashed hishorses to a gallop. Rashîd ran even faster than before. The chase, receding rapidly, soon vanished from my sight. Twilight was coming on. Above the low, flat roofs to westward, the crescent moon hung in thegreen of sunset behind the minarets of the great mosque. I then tookup the saddle-bags and delicately picked my way through couchantcamels, tethered mules and horses in the courtyard to the khan itself, which was a kind of cloister. I was making my arrangements with thelandlord, when Rashîd returned, the picture of despair. He flung upboth his hands, announcing failure, and then sank down upon the groundand moaned. The host, a burly man, inquired what ailed him. I toldhim, when he uttered just reflections upon cabmen and the vanity ofworldly wealth. Rashîd, as I could see, was 'zi'lân'--a prey to thatstrange mixture of mad rage and sorrow and despair, which is a realdisease for children of the Arabs. An English servant would not thushave cared about the loss of a small item of his master's property, not by his fault but through that master's oversight. But mypossessions were Rashîd's delight, his claim to honour. He boasted ofthem to all comers. In particular did he revere my gun, my Servicerevolver, and this whip--a tough thong of rhinoceros hide, rathernicely mounted with silver, which had been presented to me by an agedArab in return for some imagined favour. I had found it usefulagainst pariah dogs when these rushed out in packs to bite one'shorse's legs, but had never viewed it as a badge of honour till Rashîdcame to me. To him it was the best of our possessions, marking us asof rank above the common. He thrust it on me even when I went outwalking; and he it was who, when we started from our mountain home atnoon that day, had laid it reverently down upon the seat beside mebefore he climbed upon the box beside the driver. And now the whip waslost through my neglectfulness. Rashîd's dejection made me feel aworm. 

'Allah! Allah!' he made moan, 'What can I do? The driver was a chanceencounter. I do not know his dwelling, which may God destroy!'

The host remarked in comfortable tones that flesh is grass, alltreasure perishable, and that it behoves a man to fix desire on higherthings. Whereat Rashîd sprang up, as one past patience, and departed, darting through the cattle in the yard with almost supernaturalagility. 'Let him eat his rage alone!' the host advised me, with ashrug. 

Having ordered supper for the third hour of the night, I, too, wentout to stretch my limbs, which were stiff and bruised from fourhours' jolting in a springless carriage, always on the point ofoverturning. We should have done better to have come on horseback inthe usual way; but Rashîd, having chanced upon the carriage, a greatrarity, had decided on that way of going as more fashionable, forgetful of the fact that there was not a road. 

The stars were out. In the few shops which still kept open lanternshung, throwing streaks of yellow light on the uneven causeway, a gleaminto the eyes of wayfarers and prowling dogs. Many of the people inthe streets, too, carried lanterns whose swing made objects in theircircle seem to leap and fall. I came at length into an open placewhere there was concourse--a kind of square which might be called thecentre of the city. 

The crowd there, as I noticed with surprise, was stationary, with allits faces turned in one direction. I heard a man's voice weeping anddeclaiming wildly. 

'What is it?' I inquired, among the outskirts. 

'A great misfortune!' someone answered. 'A poor servant has lost awhip worth fifty Turkish pounds, his master's property. It was stolenfrom him by a miscreant--a wicked cabman. His lord will kill him ifhe fails to find it. '

Seized with interest, I shouldered my way forward. There was Rashîdagainst the wall of a large mosque, beating himself against that wallwith a most fearful outcry. A group of high-fezzed soldiers, thepolicemen of the city, hung round him in compassion, questioning. Happily, I wore a fez, and so was inconspicuous. 

'Fifty Turkish pounds!' he yelled. 'A hundred would not buy itsbrother! My master, the tremendous Count of all the English--theirchief prince, by Allah!--loves it as his soul. He will pluck out anddevour my heart and liver. O High Protector! O Almighty Lord!'

'What like was this said cabman?' asked a sergeant of the watch. 

Rashîd, with sobs and many pious interjections, described the cabmanrather neatly as 'a one-eyed man, full-bearded, of a form as ifinflated in the lower half. His name, he told me, was Habîb; but Allahknows!'

'The man is known!' exclaimed the sergeant, eagerly. 'His dwelling isclose by. Come, O thou poor, ill-used one. We will take the whip fromhim. '

At that Rashîd's grief ceased as if by magic. He took the sergeant'shand and fondled it, as they went off together. I followed with thecrowd as far as to the cabman's door, a filthy entry in a narrow lane, where, wishing to avoid discovery, I broke away and walked backquickly to the khan. 

I had been there in my private alcove some few minutes, when Rashîdarrived with a triumphant air, holding on high the famous whip. Thesergeant came across the court with him. A score of soldiers waited inthe gateway as I could see by the light of the great lantern hangingfrom the arch. 

'Praise be to Allah, I have found it!' cried Rashîd. 

'Praise be to Allah, we have been enabled to do a little service foryour Highness, ' cried the sergeant. Therewith he pounced upon my handand kissed it. I made them both sit down and called for coffee. Between the two of them, I heard the story. The sergeant praisedRashîd's intelligence in going out and crying in a public place untilthe city and its whole police force had a share in his distress. Rashîd, on his side, said that all that would have been in vain butfor the sergeant's knowledge of the cabman's house. The sergeant, witha chuckle, owned that that same knowledge would have been of no effecthad not Rashîd once more displayed his keen intelligence. They hadpoured into the house--a single room, illumined only by a saucer lampupon the ground--and searched it thoroughly, the cabman all the whileprotesting his great innocence, and swearing he had never in thisworld beheld a whip like that described. The soldiers, finding nowhip, were beginning to believe his word when Rashîd, who had remainedaloof, observing that the cabman's wife stood very still beneath herveils, assailed her with a mighty push, which sent her staggeringacross the room. The whip was then discovered. It had been hiddenunderneath her petticoats. They had given the delinquent a goodbeating then and there. Would that be punishment enough in my opinion?asked the sergeant. 

We decided that the beating was enough. I gave the sergeant a smallpresent when he left. Rashîd went with him, after carefullyconcealing the now famous whip. I suppose they went off to some tavernto discuss the wonderful adventure more at length; for I supped alone, and had been some time stretched upon my mattress on the floor beforeRashîd came in and spread his bed beside me. 

'Art thou awake, O my dear lord?' he whispered. 'By Allah, thou didstwrong to give that sergeant any money. I had made thy name so greatthat but to look on thee was fee sufficient for a poor, lean dog likehim. '

He then was silent for so long a while that I imagined he had gone tosleep. But, suddenly, he whispered once again:

'O my dear lord, forgive me the disturbance, but hast thou ourrevolver safe?'

'By Allah, yes! Here, ready to my hand. '

'Good. But it would be better for the future that I should bear ourwhip and our revolver. I have made thy name so great that thoushouldst carry nothing. '

CHAPTER IV

THE COURTEOUS JUDGE

We were giving a dinner-party on that day to half a dozen Turkishofficers, and, when he brought me in my cup of tea at seven-thirtya. M. , Rashîd informed me that our cook had been arrested. The saidcook was a decent Muslim, but hot-tempered, and something of a bloodin private life. At six a. M. , as he stood basking in the sunlight inour doorway, his eyes had fallen on some Christian youths upon theirway to college, in European clothes, with new kid gloves andsilver-headed canes. Maddened with a sense of outrage by that horridsight, he had attacked the said youths furiously with a wooden ladle, putting them to flight, and chasing them all down the long acaciaavenue, through two suburbs into the heart of the city, where theirmiserable cries for help brought the police upon him. Rashîd, pursuingin vain attempts to calm the holy warrior, had seen him taken intocustody still flourishing the ladle; but could tell me nothing of hisafter fate, having at that point deemed it prudent to retire, lest he, too, might be put in prison by mistake. 

It was sad. As soon as I was up and dressed, I wrote to Hamdi Bey, thechief of our intended visitors, informing him of the mishap whichwould prevent our giving him and his comrades a dinner at all worthyof their merit. By the time that I had finished dressing, Rashîd hadfound a messenger to whom the note was given with an order to makehaste. He must have run the whole way there and back, for, afterlittle more than half an hour, he stood before me, breathless and withstreaming brow, his bare legs dusty to the knee. Rashîd had then goneout to do some marketing. The runner handed me a note. It said:

'Why mention such a trifling detail? We shall, of course, be charmedwith anything you set before us. It is for friendship, not for food, we come!'

There was a postscript:--

'Why not go and see the judge?'

Suleymân was in the room. He was an old acquaintance, a man of decentbirth, but poor, by trade a dragoman, who had acquired a reputationfor unusual wisdom. When he had nothing else to do, he came to meunfailingly, wherever I might chance to be established or encamped. Hewas sitting cross-legged in a corner, smoking his narghîleh, capriciously illumined by thin slants of light, alive with motes, fromthe Venetian blinds. He seized upon the postscript, crying:--

'It is good advice. Why not, indeed? Let us approach the judge. '

Therewith he coiled the tube of his narghîleh carefully around thebowl thereof, and, rising with the same deliberation, threw upon hisshoulders a white dust-cloak, then looked at me, and questioned: 'Areyou ready?'

'But I do not know the judge. '

'No more do I. But that, my dear, is a disease which can be remedied. '

Without much trouble we found out the judge's house. A servant told usthat his Honour had already started for the court. We took a carriageand pursued his Honour. At the court we made inquiry of the crowd ofwitnesses--false witnesses for hire--who thronged the entrance. Thejudge, we heard, had not yet taken his seat. We should be sure to findhis Honour in the coffee-shop across the road. One of the falsewitnesses conducted us to the said coffee-shop and pointed out ourman. Together with his clerk and certain advocates, one of whom readaloud the morning news, the judge sat underneath a vine arbour inpleasant shade. He smiled. His hands were clasped upon a fair roundbelly. 

Suleymân, his dust-cloak billowing, strolled forward coolly, andpresented me as 'one of the chief people of the Franks. ' The companyarose and made us welcome, placing stools for our convenience. 

'His Highness comes to thee for justice, O most righteous judge. Hehas been wronged, ' observed Suleymân, dispassionately. 

The judge looked much concerned. 'What is the case?' he asked. 

'Our cook is snatched from us, ' was the reply, 'and to-night we haveinvited friends to dinner. '

'Is he a good cook?' asked the judge, with feeling. 

'If your Excellency will restore him to us, and then join us at themeal----'

'How can I be of service in this matter?'

I motioned to Suleymân to tell the story, which he did so well thatall the company were soon in fits of laughter. 

The judge looked through the cause list till he found the case, putting a mark against it on the paper. 

'How can we dine to-night without a cook?' I sighed, despairingly. 

'Fear nothing, ' said the judge. 'He shall be with you in an hour. Come, O my friends, we must to business! It grows late. '

The judge took leave of me with much politeness. 

'Now, ' said Suleymân, when they were gone, 'let us go into the courtand watch the course of justice. '

We crossed the narrow street to an imposing portal. Suleymân whisperedto a soldier there on guard, who smiled and bade us enter, with agracious gesture. 

The hall inside was crowded. Only after much exertion could we see thedais. There sat the judge, and there stood our lamented cook, thepicture of dejection. A soldier at his side displayed the woodenladle. The Christian dandies whom he had assaulted were giving theiraccount of the adventure volubly, until his Honour, with a heavyfrown, bade them be silent. Then they cowered. 

'Be careful what you say, ' the judge enjoined. 'You have not hesitatedto impute the anger of this cook to religious fanaticism. TheNazarenes are much too ready to bring such a charge against theMuslims, forgetful that there may be other causes of annoyance. Nay, many of the charges brought have proved upon investigation to bealtogether groundless. You Nazarenes are often insolent in yourdemeanour. Confiding in the favour of the foreign consuls, foreignmissionaries, you occasionally taunt and irritate, even revile, theMuslims. Now, even supposing your account of this affair to becorrect--which I much doubt, for, on the one hand, I behold a woodenladle of no weight; while, on the other, there are two finewalking-sticks with silver heads'--one of the Christian youths letfall his stick in trepidation--'and you are two, while this poor cookis one. Even supposing what you say is true, are you certain thatnothing in your appearance, conversation, or behaviour gave him causefor anger? I incline to conjecture that you must have flouted him, oruttered, it may be, some insult to his creed. '

'He beat us for no reason, and most grievously, ' moaned one of theassailed. Such language from a Muslim judge in a court filled withMuslims made the two Christians tremble in their shoes. 

'We did not even see him till he started beating us. By Allah, my poorhead is sore, my back is broken with that awful beating. He was like amadman!' The speaker and his fellow-plaintiff wept aloud. 

'Didst thou beat these youths, as he describes?' inquired the judge, turning towards the cook with like severity. 

'No, O Excellency!' came the bitter cry. 'I am an ill-used man, muchslandered. I never set eyes upon those men until this minute. ' He alsobegan weeping bitterly. 

'Both parties tell me lies!' exclaimed the judge, with anger. 'Forthou, O cook, didst beat these youths. The fact is known, for thouwast taken in the act of beating them. And you, O Nazarenes, are notmuch injured, for everyone beholds you in most perfect health, withclothes unspoilt. The more shame to you, for it is evident that youbring the charge against this Muslim from religious hatred. '

'By Allah, no, O Excellency. We wish that man no harm. We did butstate what happened. '

'You are a pack of rogues together, ' roared the judge. 'Let each sidepay one whole mejîdi[1] to the court; let the parties now, thisminute, here before me, swear peace and lifelong friendship for thefuture, and never let me hear of them again!'

The Christian youths embraced the cook, the cook embraced theChristian youths repeatedly, all weeping in a transport of delight attheir escape from punishment. I paid the money for our man, who thenwent home with us; Suleymân, upon the way, delivering a lecture ofsuch high morality, such heavenly language, that the poor, simplefellow wept anew, and called on Allah for forgiveness. 

'Repentance is thy duty, ' said Suleymân approvingly. 'But towards thisworld also thou canst make amends. Put forth thy utmost skill incookery this evening, for the judge is coming. '

FOOTNOTES:

[1] About four shillings. 

CHAPTER V

NAWÂDIR[2]

We had arrived in a village of the mountains late one afternoon, andwere sauntering about the place, when some rude children shouted: 'Hi, O my uncle, you have come in two!'

It was the common joke at sight of European trousers, which were rarein those days. But Suleymân was much offended upon my account. Heturned about and read those children a tremendous lecture, rebukingthem severely for thus presuming to insult a stranger and a guest. Hiscondemnation was supported on such lofty principles as no man whopossessed a particle of religion or good feeling could withstand; andhis eloquence was so commanding yet persuasive that, when at length hemoved away, not children only but many also of the grown-up peoplefollowed him. 

The village was high up beneath the summit of a ridge, and from agroup of rocks within a stone's throw of it could be seen the sea, agreat blue wall extending north and south. We perched among thoserocks to watch the sunset. The village people settled within earshot, some below and some above us. Presently an old man said:

'Thou speakest well, O sage! It is a sin for them to cry such thingsbehind a guest of quality. Their misbehaviour calls for strongcorrection. But I truly think that no child who has heard yourHonour's sayings will ever be so impudent again. '

'Amân!'[3] cried one of the delinquents. 'Allah knows that ourintention was not very evil. '

I hastened to declare that the offence was nothing. But Suleymân wouldnot allow me to decry it. 

'Your Honour is as yet too young, ' he said severely, 'to understandthe mystic value of men's acts and words. A word may be well meant andinnocent, and yet the cause of much disaster, possessing in itselfsome special virtue of malignity. You all know how the jânn[4] attendon careless words; how if I call a goat, a dog, or cat by its genericname without pointing to the very animal intended, a jinni will aslike as not attach himself to me, since many of the jânn are called bynames of animals. You all know also that to praise the beauty of achild, without the offer of that child to Allah as a sacrifice, isfatal; because there is unseen a jealous listener who hates and woulddeform the progeny of Eve. Such facts as those are known to everyignoramus, and their cause is plain. But there exists another and moresubtle danger in the careless use of words, particularly with regardto personal remarks, like that of these same children when they criedto our good master: 'Thou hast come in two, ' directing the attentionto a living body. I have a rare thing in my memory which perhaps maylead you to perceive my meaning darkly. 

'A certain husbandman (fellâh) was troubled with a foolish wife. Having to go out one day, he gave her full instructions what to doabout the place, and particularly bade her fix her mind upon theircow, because he was afraid the cow might stray, as she had donebefore, and cause ill-feeling with the neighbours. He never thoughtthat such a charge to such a person, tending to concentrate thewoman's mind upon a certain object, was disastrous. The man meantwell; the woman, too, meant well. She gave her whole mind to obey hisparting words. Having completed every task within the house, she satdown under an olive tree which grew before the door, and fixed herwhole intelligence in all its force upon the black-and-white cow, theonly living thing in sight, which was browsing in the space allowed bya short tether. So great did the responsibility appear to her that shegrew anxious, and by dint of earnest gazing at the cow came to believethat there was something wrong with it. In truth the poor beast hadexhausted all the grass within its reach, and it had not entered herideas to move the picket. 

'At length a neighbour passed that way. She begged him, of hiswell-known kindness, to inspect the cow and tell her what the matterreally was. This neighbour was a wag, and knew the woman's species; healso knew the cow as an annoyance, for ever dragging out its peg andstraying into planted fields. After long and serious examination hedeclared: "The tail is hurting her and ought to be removed. See howshe swishes it from side to side. If the tail is not cut offimmediately, the cow will die one day. "

'"Merciful Allah!" cried the woman. "Please remove it for me. I am allalone, and helpless. "

'The man lifted up an axe which he was carrying and cut off the cow'stail near the rump. He gave it to the woman and she thanked himheartily. He went his way, while she resumed her watch upon the cow. And still she fancied that its health was not as usual. 

'Another neighbour came along. She told him of her fears, and how theSheykh Mukarram, of his well-known kindness, had befriended her bycutting off the damaged tail. 

'"Of course, " cried the newcomer, "that accounts for it! The animal isnow ill-balanced. It is always a mistake to take from one end withoutremoving something also from the other. If thou wouldst see that cowin health again, the horns must go. "

'"Oh, help me; I am all alone! Perform the operation for me, " said thewoman. 

'Her friend sawed off the horns and gave them to her. She exhaustedthanks. But still, when he was gone, the cow appeared no better. Shegrew desperate. 

'By then the news of her anxiety about the cow had spread through allthe village, and every able body came to help her or look on. They cutthe udder and the ears, and then the legs, and gave them to her, andshe thanked them all with tears of gratitude. At last there was no cowat all to worry over. Seeing the diminished carcase lying motionless, the woman smiled and murmured: "Praise to Allah, she is cured at last;she is at rest! Now I am free to go into the house and get thingsready for my lord's return. "

'Her lord returned at dusk. She told him: "I have been obedient. Iwatched the cow and tended her for hours. She was extremely ill, butall the neighbours helped to doctor her, performing many operations, and we were able to relieve her of all pain, the praise to Allah! Hereare the various parts which they removed. They gave them to me, verykindly, since the cow is ours. "

'Without a word the man went out to view the remnant of the cow. Whenhe returned he seized the woman by the shoulders, and, gazingstraight into her eyes, said grimly: "Allah keep thee! I am going towalk this world until I find one filthier than thou art. And if I failto find one filthier than thou art, I shall go on walking--I havesworn it--to the end. "'

Suleymân broke off there suddenly, to the surprise of all. 

'I fail to see how that rare thing applies to my case, ' I observed, assoon as I felt sure that he had finished speaking. 

'It does not apply to your case, but it does to others, ' he replied onbrief reflection. 'It is dangerous to put ideas in people's heads orrouse self-consciousness, for who can tell what demons lurk inpeople's brains. .. . But wait and I will find a rare thing suited tothe present instance. '

'Say, O Sea of Wisdom, did he find one filthier than she was?'

'Of course he did. '

'Relate the sequel, I beseech thee. '

But Suleymân was searching in his memory for some event more clearlyillustrating the grave risks of chance suggestion. At length he gavea sigh of satisfaction, and then spoke as follows:

'There was once a Turkish pasha of the greatest, a benevolent old man, whom I have often seen. He had a long white beard, of which he wasextremely proud, until one day a man, who was a wag, came up to himand said:

'"Excellency, we have been wondering: When you go to bed, do you putyour beard inside the coverings or out?"

'The Pasha thought a moment, but he could not tell, for it had nevercome into his head to notice such a matter. He promised to inform hisquestioner upon the morrow. But when he went to bed that night hetried the beard beneath the bedclothes and above without success. Neither way could he get comfort, nor could he, for the life of him, remember how the beard was wont to go. He got no sleep on that nightor the next night either, for thinking on the problem thus presentedto his mind. On the third day, in a rage, he called a barber and hadthe beard cut off. Accustomed as he was to such a mass of hair uponhis neck, for lack of it he caught a cold and died. 

'That story fits the case before us to a nicety, ' said Suleymân inconclusion, with an air of triumph. 

'What is the moral of it, deign to tell us, master!' the cry arosefrom all sides in the growing twilight. 

'I suppose, ' I hazarded, 'that, having had attention called to thepeculiar clothing of my legs, I shall eventually have them amputatedor wear Turkish trousers?'

'I say not what will happen; God alone knows that. But the mere chancethat such catastrophes, as I have shown, may happen is enough to makewise people shun that kind of speech. '

I cannot to this day distinguish how much of his long harangue wasjest and how much earnest. But the fellâhîn devoured it as purewisdom. 

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Rare things. 

[3] Equivalent to 'Pax. '

[4] Genii. 

CHAPTER VI

NAWÂDIR (_continued_)

'What happened to the man who went to seek one filthier than she was?How could he ever find one filthier?' inquired Rashîd, reverting toSuleymân's unfinished story of the foolish woman and her husband andthe hapless cow, when we lay down to sleep that evening in the villageguest-room. I also asked to hear the rest of that instructive tale. Suleymân, sufficiently besought, raised himself upon an elbow andresumed the narrative. Rashîd and I lay quiet in our wrappings. 

'We had reached that point, my masters, where the injured husband, having seen the remnant of the cow, said to his wife: "Now, I am goingto walk this world until I find one filthier than thou art; and if Ifail to find one filthier than thou art I shall go on walking till Idie. " Well, he walked and he walked--for months, some people say, andothers years--until he reached a village in Mount Lebanon--a villageof the Maronites renowned for foolishness. It was the reputation oftheir imbecility which made him go there. '

'What was his name?' inquired Rashîd, who liked to have things clear. 

'His name?' said Suleymân reflectively, 'was Sâlih. '

'He was a Muslim?'

'Aye, a Muslim, I suppose--though, Allah knows, he may perhaps havebeen an Ismaîli or a Druze. Any more questions? Then I will proceed. 

'He came into this village of the Maronites, and, being thirsty, looked in at a doorway. He saw the village priest and all his familyengaged in stuffing a fat sheep with mulberry leaves. The sheep wastethered half-way up the steps which led on to the housetop. Thepriest and his wife, together with their eldest girl, sat on theground below, amid a heap of mulberry boughs; and all the otherchildren sat, one on every step, passing up the leaves, when ready, tothe second daughter, whose business was to force the sheep to go oneating. This they would do until the sheep, too full to stand, fellover on its side, when they would slaughter it for their supply offat throughout the coming year. 

'So busy were they in this occupation that they did not see thestranger in the doorway until he shouted: "Peace upon this house, " andasked them for a drink of water kindly. Even then the priest did notdisturb himself, but, saying "Itfaddal!" pointed to a pitcher standingby the wall. The guest looked into it and found it dry. 

'"No water here, " he said. 

'"Oh, " sighed the priest, "to-day we are so thirsty with this workthat we have emptied it, and so busy that the children have forgottento refill it. Rise, O Nesîbeh, take the pitcher on thy head, andhasten to the spring and bring back water for our guest. "

'The girl Nesîbeh, who was fourteen years of age, rose up obediently, shaking off the mulberry leaves and caterpillars from her clothing. Taking up the pitcher, she went out through the village to the spring, which gushed out of the rock beneath a spreading pear tree. 

'There were so many people getting water at the moment that she couldnot push her way among them, so sat down to wait her turn, choosing ashady spot. She was a thoughtful girl, and, as she sat there waiting, she was saying in her soul:

'"O soul, I am a big girl now. A year or two and mother will unite meto a proper husband. The next year I shall have a little son. Again ayear or two, he will be big enough to run about; and his father willmake for him a pair of small red shoes, and he will come down to thispleasant spring, as children do, to splash the water. Being a boldlad, he will climb that tree. "

'And then, as she beheld one great bough overhanging like astretched-out arm, and realised how dangerous it was for climbingchildren, she thought:

'"He will fall down and break his neck. "

'At once she burst out weeping inconsolably, making so great a dinthat all the people who had come for water flocked around her, asking:"O Nesîbeh, what has hurt thee?" And between her sobs, she told them:

'"I'm a big girl, now. "

'"That is so, O beloved!"

'"A year or two, and mother will provide me with a husband. "

'"It is likely. "

'"Another year, and I shall have a little son. "

'"If God wills!" sighed the multitude, with pious fervour. 

'"Again a year or two, he will be big enough to run about, and hisfather will make for him a pair of small red shoes. And he will comedown to the spring with other children, and will climb the tree. And--oh!--you see that big bough overhanging. There he will slip andfall and break his neck! Ah, woe!"

'At that the people cried: "O cruel fate!" and many of them rent theirclothes. They all sank down upon the ground around Nesîbeh, rockingthemselves to and fro and wailing:

'"Ah, my little neighbour. My poor, dear little neighbour! Ah, wouldthat thou had lived to bury me, my little neighbour!"[5]

'Meanwhile the stranger waiting for the water grew impatient, and heonce more ventured to interrupt the work of sheep-stuffing with aremark that the young girl was long returning with her pitcher. Thepriest said: "That is true, " and sent his second daughter to expeditethe first. This girl went running to the spring, and found thepopulation of the village sitting weeping on the ground around hersister. She asked the matter. They replied: "A great calamity! Thysister--poor distracted mother!--will inform thee of its nature. " Sheran up to Nesîbeh, who moaned out: "I am a big girl now. A year ortwo, our mother will provide me with a husband. The next year I shallhave a little son. Again a year or two he will be old enough to runabout. His father will make for him a pair of small red shoes. Hecomes down to the spring to play in childish wise. He climbs thattree, and from that overhanging branch he falls and breaks his neck. "

'At this sad news the second girl forgot her errand. She threw herskirt over her head and started shrieking: "Alas, my little nephew! Mypoor, dear little nephew! Would God that thou had lived to bury me, mylittle nephew!" And she too sat down upon the ground to hug her sorrowwith the rest. 

'The priest said: "That one too is long in coming; I will send anotherchild; but thou must take her place upon the steps, O stranger, orelse the work of stuffing will be much delayed. "

'The stranger did as he was asked, while child after child was sent, till he alone was left to do the work of carrying the fresh leaves upfrom the ground and stuffing them into the sheep. Still none returned. 

'The priest's wife went herself, remarking that her husband and thestranger were able by themselves to carry on the work. They did so along while, yet no one came. 

'At last the priest rose, saying: "I myself will go and beat them forthis long delay. Do thou, O stranger, feed the sheep meanwhile. Ceasenot to carry up the leaves and stuff him with them, lest all the goodwork done be lost through negligence. "

'In anger the priest strode out through the village to the spring. Butall his wrath was changed into amazement when he saw the crowd ofpeople sitting on the ground, convulsed with grief, around the membersof his family. 

'He went up to his wife and asked the matter. 

'She moaned: "I cannot speak of it. Ask poor Nesîbeh!"

'He then turned to his eldest daughter, who, half-choked by sobs, explained:

'"I am a big girl now. "

'"That is so, O my daughter. "

'"A year or two, and you and mother will provide me with a husband. "

'"That is possible. "

'"Another year, and I shall have a little son!"

'"In sh' Allah!" said her father piously. 

'"Again a year or two, and my son runs about. His father makes for hima pair of small red shoes. He came down to the spring to play withother children, and from that overhanging bough--how shall I tellit?--he fell and broke his darling little neck!" Nesîbeh hid her faceagain and wailed aloud. 

'The priest, cut to the heart by the appalling news, tore his cassockup from foot to waist, and threw the ends over his face, vociferating:

'"Woe, my little grandson! My darling little grandson! Oh, would thatthou had lived to bury me, my little grandson!" And he too sank uponthe ground, immersed in grief. 

'At last the stranger wearied of the work of stripping off themulberry leaves and carrying them up the staircase to the tetheredsheep. He found his thirst increased by such exertions. '

'Did he in truth do that, with no one looking?' said Rashîd. 'He musthave been as big a fool as all the others. '

'He was, but in a different way, ' said Suleymân. 

'He walked down to the spring, and saw the congregation seatedunderneath the pear tree, shrieking like sinners at the Judgment Day. Among them sat the priest, with features hidden in his torn blackpetticoat. He ventured to approach the man and put a question. Thepriest unveiled his face a moment and was going to speak, butrecollection of his sorrow overcame him. Hiding his face again, hewailed:

'"Alas, my little grandson! My pretty little grandson! Ah, would thatthou hadst lived to bury me, my little grandson!"

'A woman sitting near plucked at the stranger's sleeve and said:

'"You see that girl. She will be soon full-grown. A year or two, andshe will certainly be married. Another year, and she will have alittle son. Her little son grows big enough to run about. His fathermade for him a pair of small red shoes. He came down to the spring toplay with other children. You see that pear tree? On a day likethis--a pleasant afternoon--he clambered up it, and from that bough, which overhangs the fountain, he fell and broke his little neck uponthose stones. Alas, our little neighbour! Oh, would that thou hadlived to bury us, our little neighbour!" And everyone began to rockand wail anew. 

'The stranger stood and looked upon them for a moment, then heshouted: "Tfû 'aleykum!"[6] and spat upon the ground. No other worddid he vouchsafe to them, but walked away; and he continued walkingtill he reached his native home. There, sitting in his ancient seat, he told his wife:

'"Take comfort, O beloved! I have found one filthier. "'

Suleymân declared the story finished. 

'Is there a moral to it?' asked Rashîd. 

'The moral is self-evident, ' replied the story-teller. 'It is this:however bad the woman whom one happens to possess may be, be certainit is always possible to find a worse. '

'It is also possible to find a better, ' I suggested. 

'Be not so sure of that!' said Suleymân. 'There are three severalkinds of women in the world, who all make claim to be descended fromour father Noah. But the truth is this: Our father Noah had onedaughter only, and three men desired her; so not to disappoint theother two, he turned his donkey and his dog into two girls, whom hepresented to them, and that accounts for the three kinds of women nowto be observed. The true descendants of our father Noah are veryrare. '

'How may one know them from the others?' I inquired. 

'By one thing only. They will keep your secret. The second sort ofwoman will reveal your secret to a friend; the third will make of it atale against you. And this they do instinctively, as dogs will bark orasses bray, without malevolence or any kind of forethought. 

'That same priest of the Maronites of whom I told just now, in thefirst days of his married life was plagued by his companion to revealto her the secrets people told him in confession. He refused, declaring that she would divulge them. 

'"Nay, I can keep a secret if I swear to do so. Only try me!" shereplied. 

'"Well, we shall see, " the priest made answer, in a teasing manner. 

'One day, as he reclined upon the sofa in their house, that priestbegan to moan and writhe as if in agony. His wife, in great alarm, inquired what ailed him. 

'"It is a secret, " he replied, "which I dare not confide to thee, forwith it is bound up my earthly welfare and my soul's salvation. "

'"I swear by Allah I will hide it. Tell me!" she implored. 

'"Well, " he replied, as if in torment, "I will risk my life and trustthee. Know thou art in the presence of the greatest miracle. I, thoughnot a woman, am far gone with child--a thing which never happened onthe earth till now--and in this hour it is decreed that I produce myfirst-born. "

'Then, with a terrific cry, he thrust his hand beneath his petticoat, and showed his wife a little bird which he had kept there hidden. Helet it fly away out through the window. Having watched it disappear, he said devoutly:

'"Praise be to Allah! That is over! Thou hast seen my child. This is asacred and an awful mystery. Preserve the secret, or we all are dead!"

'"I swear I will preserve it, " she replied, with fervour. 

'But the miracle which she had witnessed burned her spirit. She knewthat she must speak of it or die; and so she called upon a friendwhose prudence she could trust, and binding her by vows, told her thestory. 

'This woman also had a trusted friend, to whom she told the story, under vows of secrecy, and so on, with the consequence that that sameevening the priest received a deputation of the village elders, whorequested, in the name of the community, to be allowed to kiss thefeet of his mysterious son--that little, rainbow-coloured bird, whichhad a horn upon its head and played the flute. 

'The priest said nothing to his wife. He did not beat her. He gave herbut one look. And yet from that day forward, she never plagued himany more, but was submissive. '

'The priest was wise on that occasion, yet so foolish in the otherstory!' I objected. 

'The way of the majority of men!' said Suleymân. 'But women are moreuniformly wise or foolish. A happy night!' said Suleymân conclusively, settling himself to sleep. 

The usual night-light of the Syrian peasants--a wick afloat upon asaucerful of oil and water--burned upon the ground between us, makinggreat shadows dance upon the walls and vaulting. The last I heardbefore I fell asleep was Rashîd's voice, exclaiming:

'He is a famous liar, is our wise man yonder; yet he speaks thetruth!'

FOOTNOTES:

[5] 'Yâ takbar jârak, yâ jâri!'--a very common cry of grief in Syria. 

[6] Something like 'Pooh-pooh to you!' but more insulting. 

CHAPTER VII

THE SACK WHICH CLANKED

The sand which had been a rich ochre turned to creamy white, the seafrom blue became a livid green, the grass upon the sand-hillsblackened and bowed down beneath a sudden gust of wind. The change wasinstantaneous, as it seemed to me. I had observed that clouds weregathering upon the mountain peaks inland, but I had been riding in hotsunlight, only a little less intense than it had been at noon, whensuddenly the chill and shadow struck me. Then I saw the sky completelyovercast with a huge purple cloud which bellied down upon the land andsea. The waves which had been lisping all day long gave forth anominous dull roar. White horses reared and plunged. A wind sangthrough the grass and thistles of the dunes, driving the sand into myface. 

Rashîd, who had been riding far behind, in conversation with ourmuleteer, came tearing up, and I could hear the shouts of the mukâriurging his two beasts to hurry. 

'There is a village on the headland over there--a village ofCircassian settlers, ' cried my servant, breathless. 'It has a badname, and I had not thought to spend the night there. But any roof isgood in such a storm. Ride fast! We may arrive before the downpour. '

My horse had broken to a canter of his own accord. I urged him to agallop. We flew round the bay. The village on the headland took shaperapidly--a few cube-shaped, whitewashed houses perched amid whatseemed at first to be great rocks, but on a close approach revealedthemselves as blocks of masonry, the ruins of some city of antiquity. From time to time a jet of spray shot up above them, white as liliesin the gloom. The sea was rising. I discerned an ancient gatewayopening on the beach, and set my horse towards it, while the rain camedown in sheets. I saw no more until the ruins loomed up close beforeme, a blind wall. 

'Your right hand!' called Rashîd; and, bearing to the right, I foundthe gateway. We waited underneath its vault until the muleteer, adripping object, shrouded in a sack, came up with his two mules; andthen we once more plunged into the deluge. The path, a very rough one, wavered up and down and in and out among the ruins. There were, perhaps, a dozen scattered houses without gardens or any sign ofcultivation round them. Only one of them possessed an upper storey, and towards that, supposing it to be the guest-room, we now picked ourway. It stood alone right out upon the promontory, topped by clouds ofspray. 

A little courtyard gave us partial shelter while Rashîd ran up somerough stone steps and hammered at a door, exclaiming:

'Peace be on this house! My master craves for food and shelter, andwe, his servants, ask the same boon of thy goodness. O master of thehouse, God will reward thy hospitality!'

The door was opened and a man appeared, bidding us all come in, inAllah's name. He was of middle height and thick-set, with a heavy greymoustache. An old-fashioned, low-crowned fez, with large blue tassel, was bound about his brow with an embroidered turban. A blue zouavejacket, crimson vest and baggy trousers of a darker blue completedhis apparel, for his feet were bare. In his girdle were a pair ofpistols and a scimitar. 

He bade us welcome in bad Arabic, showing us into a good-sizedroom--the upper chamber we had seen from far. Its windows, innocent ofglass, were closed by wooden shutters, roughly bolted, which creakedand rattled in the gale. A very fine-looking old man rose from thedivan to greet us. 

'What countryman art thou? A Turk, or one of us?' he asked, as Iremoved my head-shawl. 'An Englishman, sayest thou?' He seized myhand, and pressed it. 'An Englishman--any Englishman--is good, and hisword is sure. But the English Government is very bad. Three Englishmenin Kars behaved like warrior-angels, fought like devils. And whilethey fought for us their Government betrayed our country. What? Thouhast heard about it? Praise to Allah! At last I meet with one who canconfirm the story. My son here thinks that I invented it. '

I happened to have read of the defence of Kars under the leadership ofthree heroic Englishmen--General Williams, Captain Teesdale, andDoctor Sandwith--and of the betrayal of the Circassian rising underShamyl at the time of the Crimean war. 

The old man was delighted. 'Listen, O my son!' he called out to theperson who had let us in. 'It is true what I have often told to thee. This Englishman knows all about it. So does all the world, except suchblockheads as thyself and thy companions. '

His son begged to be excused a minute while he put his crops into thebarn. Therewith he dragged a sack out of the room. What crops he mayhave grown I do not know; but this I know--the contents of that sackclanked as he dragged it out. 

When he returned, he brought a bowl of eggs cooked in clarifiedbutter, two slabs of bread, and a great jug of water, apologising forthe coarseness of the fare. We all supped together, the old manbabbling of the days of old with great excitement. His son stared atme with unblinking eyes. At last he said:

'I like thee, O khawâjah. I had once a son about thy age. Say, O myfather, is there not a strong resemblance?'

Thereafter he talked quite as much as the old man, giving me thehistory of their emigration from the Caucasus to escape the yoke ofthe accursed Muscovite, and enumerating all the troubles whichattended their first coming into Syria. 

'We are not subjects of the Government, ' he told me, 'but allies; andwe have special privileges. But the dishonoured dogs round here forgetold compacts, and want us to pay taxes like mere fellâhîn. '

We sat up talking far into the night, while the storm raged without, and the rain and the sea-spray pounded on the shutters; and never haveI met with kinder treatment. It was the custom for chance comers tohave food at evening only and leave betimes next morning. But ourhost, when I awoke in splendid sunlight, had breakfast ready--sourmilk and Arab bread and fragrant coffee--and when I went out to myhorse he followed me, and thrust two roasted fowls into mysaddle-bags, exclaiming 'Zâd!'--which means 'food for the road. ' Andmuch to my abashment he and the old man fell upon my neck and kissedme on both cheeks. 

'Good people! The very best of people! They would take no money. Godreward them, ' chanted Rashîd, as we rode out of the ruins inlandthrough a garden of wild flowers. The storm had passed completely. Nota cloud remained. 

After an hour we came in sight of a large khan outside a mud-builtvillage on the shore. Before it was a crowd, including severalsoldiers. As we drew near, Rashîd inquired the meaning of the throng. 

'A great calamity, ' he was informed. 'A man, a foreigner, is dying, killed by highwaymen. One of his companions, a poor servant, isalready dead. '

We both dismounted, and Rashîd pushed in to learn more of the matter. Presently a soldier came to me. 

'Your Honour is an Englishman?' he questioned. 'Praise be to Allah! Iam much relieved. This other also is an Englishman, they tell me. Heis severely wounded, at the gate of death. '

I went with him at once to see the sufferer, who seemed relieved tohear me speak, but could not answer. Rashîd and I did what we couldto make him comfortable, giving the soldiers orders to keep out thecrowd. We decided to ride on and send a doctor, and then report thematter to a British consul. 

'He was going down to start some kind of business in the city overthere, ' the leader of the soldiers told me, nodding towards the south. 'He had a largeish company, with several camels. But near the villageof ---- he was attacked by the Circassians, and was so foolish as tomake resistance. They took everything he had of worth--his arms, hismoney--and killed a camel-driver, besides wounding him. It happenedyesterday before the storm. They say I should take vengeance for him. What am I--a corporal with six men--to strive with Huseyn Agha and hiscavalry! It needs a regiment. '

He went grumbling off. Rashîd and I were staring hard at one another;for the village named was that where we had spent the night, andHuseyn Agha's roasted fowls were in our saddle-bags. 

Rashîd, as I could see, was troubled upon my account. He kept silencea good while. At last he said:

'It is like this, my lord. Each man must see with his own eyes and notanother's. People are as one finds them, good or bad. They change witheach man's vision, yet remain the same. For us those highway robbersare good people; we must bless them; having cause to do so. This otherman is free to curse them, if he will. Good to their friends, bad totheir enemies. What creature of the sons of Adam can condemn themquite?'

CHAPTER VIII

POLICE WORK

Having to dress for dinner on a certain evening, I took off mymoney-belt, and quite forgot to put it on again. It happened tocontain twelve English pounds. I left it lying on the table in thehotel bedroom. When I came back in the small hours of the morning itwas gone. Rashîd--who slept out at a khan in charge of our twohorses--came in at eight o'clock to rouse me. Hearing of my loss, hegave me the worst scolding I have ever had, and then went out to blowup the hotel proprietor. 

It was, for once, a real hotel with table d'hôte, hall-porter, and apalm-lounge--everything, in fact, excepting drains. The owner was afat, brown individual, whom I had generally seen recumbent on a sofain his office, while someone of his many sons did all the work. Butthat he could show energy upon occasion I now learnt. Hearing fromRashîd that I, a guest in his hotel, had suffered robbery, he sprangon to his feet and danced with rage. 

When I arrived upon the scene, which was the palm-lounge--an opencourtyard shaded by an awning--he was flourishing a monstrous whip, with dreadful imprecations, literally foaming at the mouth. I beggedhim to do nothing rash, but he seemed not to hear me. With the squealof a fighting stallion, he rushed off to the servants' quarters, whence presently there came heartrending shrieks and cries for mercy. His sons, in fear of murder, followed him, and added theirremonstrance to the general din. The women of his house appeared indoorways, weeping and wringing their hands. 

Rashîd seemed gratified by this confusion, regarded as a tribute toour greatness, his and mine. 

'Be good enough to go away, ' he told me. 'The scene is quite unworthyof your dignity. I will take care that all is done to raise yourhonour. '

I remained, however. Presently, the host returned, perspiring freely, mopping his brown face with a crimson handkerchief. He smiled as onewho has had healthy exercise. 

'It is no use, ' he told me, with a shrug. 'I beat them well, and everyone of them confessed that he alone, and not another, was the thief. Each, as his turn came, wished to stay my hand at any cost. '

He sank down on a sofa which was in the court. 'What further is yourHonour's will?' he asked. 'I will beat anyone. The story is so bad forthe hotel. I should be ruined if it reached the ears of Cook orBaedeker. '

The cries of those unhappy servants having shamed me, I told him thatI was content to count the money lost rather than that harmless folkshould suffer for my carelessness. Rashîd protested, saying twelvepounds was no trifle, although I might, in youthful folly, so regardit. He, as my servant, had to guard my wealth. 

'The gold is lost. It is the will of Allah. Let it be, ' I answeredirritably. 

'Thou wilt not tell the English consul?' cried the host, with suddeneagerness. 'Thou wilt refrain from saying any word to Cook or Baedekerto bring ill-fame and ruin on the place? Our Lord augment thy wealthand guard thee always! May thy progeny increase in honour till itrules the world!'

'But something must be done, ' Rashîd remonstrated. 'A crime has beencommitted. We must find the culprit. '

'True, ' said the host, 'and I will help with all my strength. Theconsul would not help at all. He would but frighten the police, withthe result that they would torture--perhaps hang--a man or two, butnot the man who stole your belt of money. Our police, when notalarmed, are clever. Go to them and give a little money. They willfind the thief. '

'I go this minute, ' said Rashîd. 

I bade him wait. Knowing his way of magnifying me and my possessions, I thought it better to be present at the interview, lest he shouldfrighten the police no less than would the intervention of a consul. 

We went together through the shady markets, crossing here and there anopen space of blinding sunlight, asking our way at intervals, until atlast we entered a large whitewashed room where soldiers loitered anda frock-coated, be-fezzed official sat writing at a desk. Thispersonage was very sympathetic. 

'Twelve pounds!' he cried. 'It is a serious sum. The first thing to bedone is to survey the scene of crime. Wait, I will send with you aknowing man. '

He called one of the soldiers, who stepped forward and saluted, andgave him charge of the affair. 

'You can place confidence in him. He knows his business, ' he assuredme, bowing with extreme politeness, as we took our leave. 

With the soldier who had been assigned to us we sauntered back to thehotel. The man abounded in compassion for me. He said it was the worstcase he had ever heard of--to rob a man so manifestly good and amiableof so great a sum. Alas! the badness of some people. It put out thesun!

At the hotel he spent a long while in my room, searching, as he said, for 'traces. ' Rashîd, the host and all his family, and nearly all theservants, thronged the doorway. After looking into every drawer, andcrawling underneath the bed, which he unmade completely, he spent someminutes in debating whether the thief had entered by the window or thedoor. Having at last decided for the door, he turned to me and askedif there was anybody I suspected. When I answered 'no, ' I saw himthrow a side-glance at Rashîd, as if he thought him fortunate inhaving so obtuse a master. As he was departing, Rashîd, at my command, gave him a silver coin, for which he kissed my hand and, having doneso, said:

'I know a clever man, none like him for such business. I will send himto your presence in an hour. '

Three hours passed. I had finished luncheon, and was sipping coffee inthe lounge, when a sleek personage in gorgeous robes was brought tome. He had a trick of looking down his nose at his moustache, thewhile he stroked it, with a gentle smirk. 

'Your Excellency has been robbed, ' he murmured in a secret tone, 'andyou would know the robber? There is nothing simpler. I havediscovered many thieves. I think it likely that I know the very man. Iwill disguise myself as an old woman or a begging dervish. There aremany ways. But, first, your Honour must bestow on me an English pound. That is my fee. It is but little for such services. '

I answered languidly that the affair had ceased to thrill me; I wishedto hear no more about the money or the thief. He stayed a long while, wheedling and remonstrating, depicting his own subtlety in glowingterms; but in the end departed with despairing shrugs and backwardglances, hoping that I might relent. 

Rashîd, who had been out to tend the horses, came presently and askedif I had seen the great detective. When I described our interview, henearly wept. 

'The people here think me the thief, ' he told me. 'They say nothing, but I feel it in their bearing towards me. And now you give up seekingfor the culprit! Am I to bear this shame for evermore?'

Here was a new dilemma! No way out of it appeared to me, for even ifwe did employ the great detective, our chance of finding thedelinquent seemed exceeding small. I was thinking what could possiblybe done to clear Rashîd, when a familiar figure came into the courtand strolled towards us. It was Suleymân! I had imagined him threehundred miles away, at Gaza, in the south of Palestine. Loud were ourexclamations, but his calm rebuked us. I never knew him showexcitement or surprise. 

He heard our story with deliberation, and shook his head at the policeand the detective. 

'No use at all, ' he scoffed. 'The one man for your purpose is theChief of the Thieves. I know him intimately. '

'Ma sh'Allah! Is there then a guild of thieves?'

'There is. '

'The Sheykh of the Thieves must be the greatest rogue. I do not careto have to do with him. '

'You err, ' remarked Suleymân, with dignity. 'Your error has its rootin the conviction that a thief is evil. He may be evil as anindividual; all men are apt to be who strive for gain; but as amember of a corporation he has pride and honour. With Europeans, it isjust the opposite. They individually are more honourable than theirgovernments and corporations. The Sheykh of the Thieves, I can assureyou, is the soul of honour. I go at once to see him. He can clearRashîd. '

'If he does that, he is the best of men!' exclaimed my servant. 

An hour later one of the hotel men, much excited, came to tell me thatsome soldiers were approaching, who had caught the thief. The host andall his family ran out into the hall. Rashîd and all the servants camefrom kitchen purlieus. Four soldiers entered with triumphantexclamations, dragging and pushing forward--Suleymân!

The prisoner's demeanour had its usual calm. 

'I have regained the belt, ' he called to me. 'These men were watchingnear the house, and found it on me. They would not hear reason. Theman who stole the belt--a Greek--has left the city. He gave the Sheykhthe belt, but kept the money. '

The soldiers, disappointed, let him go. 

'How dost thou know all that?' inquired their leader. 

'The Headman of the Thieves informed me of it. '

'Ah, then, it is the truth, ' the soldier nodded. 'He is a man ofhonour. He would not deceive thee. '

I do not claim to understand these things. I but relate them. 

CHAPTER IX

MY COUNTRYMAN

One summer, in the south of Syria, amid that tumbled wilderness ofcliff and chasm, shale and boulder, which surges all around the Sea ofLot, we had been riding since the dawn without encountering a humanbeing, and with relief at last espied a village, having some trace ofcultivated land about it, and a tree. 

Rashîd was on ahead. Suleymân had been beside me, but had droppedbehind in order to perform some operation on his horse's hoof. As Icame down the last incline on to the village level I heard angryshouts, and saw a crowd of fellâhîn on foot mobbing Rashîd. Urging myhorse, I shouted to him to know what was happening. At once a numberof the villagers forsook him and surrounded me, waving their armsabout and talking volubly. 

I had gathered, from their iteration of the one word 'moyeh, ' thatwater was the matter in dispute, even before Rashîd succeeded inrejoining me. 

He said: 'I rode up to the spring which flows beneath that arch, andwas letting my horse drink from the stone trough of water, when thesemaniacs rushed up and dragged my horse away, and made this noise. Theysay the water in the spring is theirs, and no one else has any rightto touch it. I offered to make payment, but they would not hear me. Ithreatened them with vengeance, but they showed no fear. Is it yourHonour's will that I should beat a few of them?'

Seeing their numbers, I considered it the wiser plan for us to letthem be till their excitement had cooled down, and till Suleymânarrived to help us with advice. Accordingly, I smiled and nodded tothe villagers, and rode back up the path a little way, Rashîd obeyingmy example with reluctance, muttering curses on their faith andancestry. Then we dismounted and lay down in the shadow of some rocks. It wanted still two hours before the sun would set. 

Suleymân came on us, and dismounted at a call from me. 

'What is the noise down there?' he questioned, looking at the villagewith that coolness, like indifference, habitual to his face whenmeeting problems of importance. 

'They will not let us touch the water--curse their fathers!' growledRashîd. 'Heard anyone the like of such inhospitality? It would butserve them right if we destroyed their houses. '

Suleymân screwed up his eyes, the better to survey the crowd ofvillagers below, who now sat guard around the spring, and murmuredcarelessly:

'It is evident that thou hast angered them, O son of rashness. Weshall do well to wait before approaching them again with our politerequest. '

Therewith he stretched his length upon the ground, with a luxurioussigh, and would, I think, have gone to sleep, had not Rashîd, conceiving himself blamed, thought necessary to relate in full thewhole adventure. 

'What else could man have done?' he asked defiantly. 'Say in whatrespect, however trifling, did I act unwisely?'

'By Allah, thou didst nothing wrong, and yet thou mightest have donebetter, since thy efforts led to failure, ' said the sage, benignly. 'Thou art a soldier yet in thought, and thy one method is to threaten. If that avails not, thou art helpless. There are other ways. '

'I offered money, ' cried Rashîd indignantly. 'Could man do more?'

'What are those other ways? Instruct us, O beloved!' I put in, to saveRashîd from feeling lonely under blame for ignorance. 

'No truly great one ever argues with a crowd. He chooses out one man, and speaks to him, him only, ' said Suleymân; and he was going to tellus more, but just then something in the wadi down below the villagecaught his eye, and he sat up, forgetting our dilemma. 

'A marvel!' he exclaimed after a moment spent in gazing. 'Never, Isuppose, since first this village was created, have two Franksapproached it in a single day before. Thou art as one of us in outwardseeming, ' he remarked to me; 'but yonder comes a perfect Frank withtwo attendants. '

We looked in the direction which his finger pointed, and beheld a manon horseback clad in white from head to foot, with a pith helmet anda puggaree, followed by two native servants leading sumpter-mules. 

'Our horses are in need of water, ' growled Rashîd, uninterested in thesight. 'It is a sin for those low people to refuse it to us. '

'Let us first wait and see how this newcomer fares, what method headopts, ' replied Suleymân, reclining once more at his ease. 

The Frank and his attendants reached the outskirts of the village, andheaded naturally for the spring. The fellâhîn, already put upon theirguard by Rashîd's venture, opposed them in a solid mass. The Frankexpostulated. We could hear his voice of high command. 

'Aha, he knows some Arabic. He is a missionary, not a traveller, ' saidSuleymân, who now sat up and showed keen interest. 'I might have knownit, for the touring season is long past. '

He rose with dignified deliberation and remounted. We followed him ashe rode slowly down towards the scene of strife. When we arrived, theFrank, after laying about him vainly with his riding-whip, had drawnout a revolver. He was being stoned. His muleteers had fled to a safedistance. In another minute, as it seemed, he would have shot someperson, when nothing under Allah could have saved his life. 

Suleymân cried out in English: 'Don't you be a fool, sir! Don't youfire!'

The Frank looked round in our direction, with an angry face; butSuleymân bestowed no further thought on him. He rode up to the nearestgroup of fellâhîn, crying aloud:

'O true believers! O asserters of the Unity! Bless the Prophet, andinform me straightway what has happened!'

Having captured their attention by this solemn adjuration, heinquired:

'Who is the chief among you? Let him speak, him only!'

Although the crowd had seemed till then to be without a leader, an oldwhite-bearded man was thrust before him, with the cry:

'Behold our Sheykh, O lord of judgment. Question him!'

Rashîd and I heard nothing of the conversation which ensued, exceptthe tone of the two voices, which appeared quite friendly, and somemighty bursts of laughter from the crowd. No more stones were thrown, although some persons still kept guard over the spring. 

At length Suleymân returned to us, exclaiming:

'All is well. They grant us leave to take what water we require. Thespring has been a trouble to these people through the ages because thewandering tribes with all their herds come here in time of drought anddrink it dry. But now they are our friends, and make us welcome. '

He called out to the Frank, who all this while had sat his horse withan indignant air, more angry, as it seemed, to be forgotten than to beassailed:

'It is all right. You take the water and you pay them five piastres. '

'It is extortion!' cried the Frank. 'What right have they to charge memoney for the water of this natural spring, which is the gift of God?I will not pay. '

'No matter. I pay for you, ' shrugged Suleymân. 

I tried to make the missionary--for such he proved to be uponacquaintance--understand that the conditions in that desert countrymade the spring a valued property, and gave a price to everypitcherful of water. 

'What! Are you English?' was his only answer, as he scanned mysemi-native garb with pity and disgust. 'And who, pray, is that personwith you who was rude to me?'

'His name is Suleymân. He is a friend of mine. '

'A friend, I hardly think, ' replied the Frank, fastidiously. He was abig man, with a dark complexion and light eyes. 'I am going to camphere to-night. I have a tent. Perhaps you will be good enough to comeand sup with me. Then we can talk. '

'With pleasure, ' I made answer, taken by surprise. 

'Where is your camp?' he asked. 

'We haven't got one. We put up in the guest-room if there is one, orunder the stars. '

'Well, there's no accounting for tastes, ' he murmured, with a sneer. 

Rashîd, through all this conversation, had been standing by, waitingto tell me that Suleymân had gone before into the village to theheadman's house, where it had been arranged that we should pass thenight. Thither we went, when I had finished speaking to themissionary; and there we found Suleymân enthroned among the villageelders in a long, low room. He stood up on my entrance, as did all theothers, and explained:

'We have a room near by where we can throw our saddle-bags, but it isverminous, and so we will not sleep inside it, but outside--on theroof. For supper we are the invited guests of the good sheykh, and Ican tell you he is getting ready a fine feast. '

With deep regret and some degree of shame I told him of my promise totake supper with the missionary. He looked reproach at me, and toldthe villagers what I had said. They all cried out in disappointment. Suleymân suggested that I should revoke the promise instantly, butthat I would not do, to his annoyance; and after that, till it wastime for me to go, he and Rashîd were sulky and withdrew their eyesfrom me. I knew that they were jealous of the Frank, whom theyregarded as an enemy, and feared lest he should turn my mind againstthem. 

CHAPTER X

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS

It was dusk when I set out for the missionary's tent, and starlitnight before I reached it--so fleeting is the summer twilight in thatland. 

Rashîd went with me, as in duty bound, and insisted on remaining withthe servants of the missionary by the cook's fire, although I told himto go back repeatedly, knowing how his mouth must water for theheadman's feast. The dudgeon which he felt at my desertion made himdetermined not to let me out of sight, and called for the martyrdom ofsomeone, even let that someone be himself. 

The missionary called: 'Come in!' while I was still a good way off thetent. Entering, I found him stretched on a deck-chair, with handsbehind his head. He did not rise upon my entrance, but just smiled andpointed to another chair beyond a little folding table laid forsupper. 

He spoke of the day's heat and the fatigues of travel and the flies;and asked me how I could endure to sleep in native hovels full offleas and worse. 

I told him that, by Suleymân's arrangement, we were to sleep upon theroof for safety. He sniffed. 

I then related a discussion I had overheard between Rashîd andSuleymân as to the best way of defeating those domestic pests, thinking to make him laugh. Rashîd had spoken of the virtues of acertain shrub; but Suleymân declared the best specific was a new-bornbaby. This, if laid within a room for a short while, attracted everyinsect. The babe should then be carried out and dusted. The missionarydid not even smile. 

'The brutes!' he murmured. 'How can you, an Englishman, and apparentlya man of education, bear their intimacy?'

They had their good points, I asserted--though, I fear, but lamely;for the robustness of his attitude impressed me, he being a man, presumably, of wide experience, and, what is more, a clergyman--thekind of man I had been taught to treat with some respect. 

He said no more till we had finished supper, which consisted ofsardines and corned beef and sliced pineapple, tomatoes andhalf-liquid butter out of tins, and some very stale European breadwhich he had brought with him. Confronted with such mummy food, Ithought with longing of the good, fresh meal which I had left behindme at the headman's house. He may have guessed my thoughts, for heobserved: 'I never touch their food. It is insanitary'--which I knewto be exactly what they said of his. 

The man who waited on us seemed to move in fear, and was addressed byhis employer very curtly. 

After the supper there was tea, which, I confess, was welcome, andthen the missionary put me through a kind of catechism. Finding outwho I was, and that we had some friends in common, he frowned deeply. He had heard of my existence in the land, it seemed. 

'What are you doing here at all?' he asked severely. 'At your age youshould be at college or in training for some useful work. '

'I'm learning things, ' I told him rather feebly. 

His point of view, the point of view of all my countrymen, imposeditself on me as I sat there before him, deeply conscious of my youthand inexperience. 

'What things?' he asked. And then his tongue was loosed. He gave mehis opinion of the people of the country, and particularly of my twocompanions. He had summed them up at sight. They were two cunningrogues, whose only object was to fleece me. He told me stories aboutEnglishmen who had been ruined in that very way through making friendswith natives whom they thought devoted to them. One story ended in ahorrid murder. He wanted me to have no more to do with them, and whenhe saw I was attached to them, begged me earnestly to treat themalways as inferiors, to 'keep them in their place'; and this Ipromised, coward-like, to do, although I knew that, in the way hemeant, it was not in me. 

It seemed that he himself was travelling in these wild places insearch of an old Greek inscription, mention of which he had discoveredin some book. He half-persuaded me to bear him company. 

'You are doing no good here, alone with such companions, ' he said, asI at last departed. 'Think over my advice to you. Go back to England. Come with me for the next few days, and share my tents. Then come andstay with me in Jerusalem, and we can talk things over. ' There was nodoubt of the kindliness of his intention. 

I thanked him, and strolled back toward the village in the starlight, Rashîd, who, at my first appearance, had detached himself from a smallgroup which sat around the missionary's kitchen fire, stalking onbefore me with a lantern. 

It seemed a wonder that the village dogs, which had made so great anoise on our arrival in the place so short a while before, now took nonotice, seeming to recognise our steps as those of lawful inmates. 

At the headman's house Suleymân still sat up talking with the villageelders. He expressed a hope that I had much enjoyed myself, but with ahint of grievance which I noticed as a thing expected. Looking roundupon those eager, friendly faces, I compared them with the cold faceof the missionary, who suddenly appeared to me as a great bird ofprey. I hated him instinctively, for he was like a schoolmaster; andyet his words had weight, for I was young to judge, and schoolmasters, though hateful, have a knack of being in the right. 

At last we three went up on to the roof to sleep. We had lain down andsaid 'good night' to one another, when Suleymân remarked, as ifsoliloquising:

'Things will never be the same. '

'What do you mean?' I questioned crossly. 

'That missionary has spoilt everything. He told you not to trust us, not to be so friendly with persons who are natives of this land, andtherefore born inferior. '

I made no answer, and Suleymân went on:

'A man who journeys in the desert finds a guide among the desertpeople, and he who journeys on the sea trusts seamen. What allegationsdid he make? I pray you tell us!'

'He told me stories of his own experience. '

'His experience is not, never will be, yours. He is the enemy. Atiger, if one asked him to describe mankind, would doubtless say thatthey are masters of the guile which brings destruction, deservingonly to be clawed to death. Question the pigeons of some mosque, uponthe other hand, and they will swear by Allah men are lords of allbenevolence. '

Rashîd broke in: 'His boys, with whom I talked, inform me that he isdevoid of all humanity. He never thanks them for their work, howeverperfect, nor has a word of blessing ever passed his lips. He frownscontinually. How can he be the same as one like thee who laughs andtalks?'

We had all three sat up, unconsciously. And we continued sitting up, debating miserably under the great stars, hearing the jackals' voicesanswer one another from hill to hill both near and far, all throughthat night, drawing ever closer one to another as we approached anunderstanding. 

'An Englishman such as that missionary, ' said Suleymân, 'treats goodand bad alike as enemies if they are not of his nation. He gives barejustice; which, in human life, is cruelty. He keeps a strict accountwith every man. We, when we love a man, keep no account. We neverthink of what is due to us or our position. And when we hate--may Godforgive us!--it is just the same--save with the very best and coolestheads among us. '

'But you are cunning, and have not our code of honour, ' I objected, with satirical intention, though the statement sounded brutal. 

'Your Honour says so!' cried Rashîd, half weeping. 'No doubt you arereferring to that theft in the hotel, of which you thought so littleat the time that you would take no action. That was the doing of aGreek, as was established. Say, can you of your own experience ofchildren of the Arabs say that one of us has ever robbed you of asmall para, or wronged you seriously?'

'I cannot, ' was my answer, after brief reflection. 'But the experienceof other, older men must weigh with me. '

'Let other men judge people as they find them, and do thou likewise, 'said Suleymân. 

'He urged me to give up this aimless wandering and go with him insearch of an old Greek inscription, not far off. Within four days hehopes to see El Cuds again; and thence he urged me to return toEngland. '

At that my two companions became silent and exceeding still, as ifsome paralysing fear hung over them. It was the hour immediatelybefore the dawn, and life seemed hopeless. The missionary's voiceseemed then to me the call of duty, yet every instinct in my blood wasfierce against it. 

'Your Honour will do what he pleases, ' said my servant mournfully. 

'The Lord preserve thee ever!' sighed Suleymân. 'Thou art the leaderof the party. Give command. '

A streak of light grew on the far horizon, enabling us to see theoutlines of the rugged landscape. A half-awakened wild-bird criedamong the rocks below us. And suddenly my mind grew clear. I cared nolonger for the missionary's warning. I was content to face the dangerswhich those warnings threatened; to be contaminated, even ruined as anEnglishman. The mischief, as I thought it, was already done. I knewthat I could never truly think as did that missionary, nor hold myselfsuperior to Eastern folk again. If that was to be reprobate, then Iwas finished. 

'Saddle the horses. We will start at once, ' I told Rashîd. 'Beforethe missionary is afoot--towards the East. '

For a moment he sat motionless, unable to believe his ears. Thensuddenly he swooped and kissed my hand, exclaiming: 'Praise be toAllah!'

'Praise be to Allah!' echoed Suleymân, with vast relief. 'The tiger inthee has not triumphed. We shall still know joy. '

'I resign myself to be the pigeon of the mosque, ' I answered, laughinghappily. 

Five minutes later we were riding towards the dawn, beginning to growred behind the heights of Moab. 

CHAPTER XI

THE KNIGHT ERRANT

We had left Damascus after noon the day before, and had spent thenight at a great fortress-khan--the first of many on the pilgrims'road. We had been on our way an hour before Rashîd discovered that hehad left a pair of saddle-bags behind him at the khan; and as thosesaddle-bags contained belongings of Suleymân, the latter went backwith him to retrieve them. I rode on slowly, looking for a patch ofshade. Except the khan, a square black object in the distance, therewas nothing in my range of vision to project a shadow larger than agood-sized thistle. Between a faint blue wave of mountains on the onehand and a more imposing but far distant range upon the other, thevast plain rolled to the horizon in smooth waves. 

I was ascending such an undulation at my horse's leisure when acavalier appeared upon its summit--a figure straight out of the pagesof some book of chivalry, with coloured mantle streaming to thebreeze, and lance held upright in the stirrup-socket. This knight wasriding at his ease till he caught sight of me, when, with a shout, helaid his lance in rest, lowered his crest and charged. I wasexceedingly alarmed, having no skill in tournament, and yet I couldnot bring myself to turn and flee. I rode on as before, though with abeating heart, my purpose, if I had one, being, when the moment came, to lean aside, and try to catch his spear, trusting in Allah that myhorse would stand the shock. But the prospect of success was small, because I could see nothing clearly, till suddenly the thunder of thehoof-beats ceased, and I beheld the knight within ten yards of me, grinning and saluting me with lance erect, his horse flung back uponits haunches. 

'I frightened thee, O Faranji?' he asserted mockingly. 

I replied that it would take more than such a wretched mountebank ashe could do to frighten me, and showed him my revolver, which, untilthe fear was over, had escaped my memory. It pleased him, and heasked for it immediately. I put it back. 

'A pretty weapon, ' he agreed, 'but still I frightened thee. '

I shrugged and sneered, disdaining further argument, and thought topass him; but he turned his horse and rode beside me, asking who I wasand where I came from, and what might be my earthly object in ridingthus towards the desert all alone. I answered all his questions verycoldly, which did not disconcert him in the least. Hearing that I hadattendants, one of whom had skill in warfare, he said that he wouldwait with me till they came up. I tried to frighten him with tales ofall the men Rashîd had slain in single combat: he was all the moredetermined to remain with me, saying that he would gain much honourfrom destroying such a man. 

'But I do suspect that thou are lying, O most noble Faranji, and thatthis boasted champion is some wretched townsman whose only courage isbehind a wall, ' he chuckled. 

At that I was indignant, and I lied the more. 

Thus talking, we came near a piece of ruined wall, which castsufficient shadow for a man to rest in. The knight dismounted and tiedup his horse. I was for riding on, but he made such an outcry that, wishing to avoid a quarrel, I alighted also and tied up my horse. Welay down near together in the strip of shade. He passed me a roughleathern water-bottle, and I took a draught of warmish fluid, tastinglike the smell of goats. He took a longer draught, and then exclaimed:'There are thy friends. '

Far off upon the plain two specks were moving. I could not have toldman from man at such a distance, but the knight was able todistinguish and describe them accurately. 

'The younger man who sits erect upon his horse--he is no doubt thewarrior of whom thou speakest. The other, plump and lolling, has theair of greatness--a Pasha, maybe, or a man of law. '

I told him that Suleymân was a man of learning, and then let him talkwhile I took stock of his appearance. The figure out of books ofchivalry was shabby on a close inspection. The coloured surcoat wasboth weather-stained and torn, the coat of mail beneath so ancientthat many of the links had disappeared completely; the holes wherethey had been were patched with hide, which also was beginning to giveway in places. His age was about three-and-twenty; he had bright browneyes, a black moustache and beard, and a malicious air. He looked aperfect ragamuffin, yet he spoke with condescension, talking muchabout his pedigree, which contained a host of names which I had neverheard before--a fact which, when he realised it, filled him first withhorror, then with pity of my ignorance. He expatiated also on hishorse's pedigree, which was as lengthy as his own. 

When my friends came up, I quite expected them to rid me of thetiresome knight. But they did nothing of the sort. They took the manand his pretensions seriously, exchanging with him compliments instriking contrast with the haughty tone I had till then adopted. Rashîd refused his challenge with politeness, and, much to my dismay, Suleymân, the older and more thoughtful man, accepted it uponcondition that the combat should stand over till some more convenienttime; and when the knight proclaimed his sovereign will to travel withus, they seemed pleased. 

'He will be useful to us, ' said Rashîd, when I complained to him ofthis deception, 'for his tribe controls a great part of this country. But it will be best for me to carry our revolver while he rides withus. Then I and not your Honour can deny him, which is more becoming. '

The knight had asked for my revolver thrice already. 

That evening, near a lonely village of the plain, the battle withSuleymân was fought with equal honours, each rider hitting his mansquarely with the long jerideh--the stripped palm-branch--which issubstituted for the spear in friendly combat. The heroes faced eachother at a regulated distance. Then one--it was Suleymân--clappedspurs into his horse's flanks and fled, keeping within a certain spacewhich might be called the lists; the other flying after him, withfearful yells, intent to fling the missile so that it should strikethe victim in a certain manner. This lasted till the throw was made, and then the order was reversed, and the pursuer in his turn becamethe hunted. 

The knight applauded his opponent's skill reluctantly, and withregret that he himself had not been in his usual form. 

He journeyed with us after that for many days. It seemed that he wasout in search of exploits, so did not care a jot which way he rode. Informer days, he told me, there used to be a tournament in every towneach Friday, where any stranger knight might show his prowess, winninghonour and renown. But in these degenerate times it was necessary forthe would-be champion to cry his challenge in some public place, orelse arrange the fight beforehand meanly in some tavern. I should havebeen delighted with him on the whole, if he had not been quarrelsomeand had not expected us, as his companions, to extricate him from thestrife in which his arrogance involved him. We dreaded the arrival ata town or village. If he had possessed the prowess of his courage, which was absolutely reckless, he would have been a more endurable, ifdread, companion. But in almost every quarrel which he brought uponhimself he got the worst of it, and was severely beaten, and thenwould talk to us about the honour of the Arabs till we fell asleep. 

One night in the small town of Mazarib we rescued him from twoCircassian bravoes whom he had insulted wantonly. They had nearlystopped his mouth for ever when we intervened. I cannot say he wasungrateful upon that occasion. On the contrary, he swore that he wouldnot forsake us until death--a vow which filled us with dismay, foreven Suleymân by that time saw that he was useless; and Rashîd, ourtreasurer, resented his contempt of money. He had a way, too, ofdemanding anything of ours which took his fancy, and, if not forciblyprevented, taking it, peculiarly obnoxious to Rashîd, who idolised myfew belongings. We were his friends, his manner told us, and he, thebravest of the brave, the noblest of the noble Arabs, was prepared togive his life for us at any time. Any trifles therefore which we mightbestow on him were really nothing as compared with what he gave usevery hour of every day. 

It grew unbearable. The people in the khan at Mazarib were laughing atus because that wretched Bedawi, a chance adherent, ruled our party. We plotted desperately to get rid of him. 

At length Suleymân devised a scheme. It was that we should change thewhole direction of our journey, turning aside into the mountain of theDruzes. The Druzes were at war with many of the Bedu--probably withthis man's tribe; at any rate, a Bedawi, unless disguised, would rungrave risk among them while the war was on. 

Accordingly, when we at length set out from Mazarib, Suleymân, withmany compliments, informed the knight of a dilemma which distressed usgreatly. I had been summoned to the bedside of a friend of mine, agreat Druze sheykh, now lying very ill, whose one wish was to gaze onme before he died. Rashîd chimed in to say how tenderly that Druzechief loved me, and how depressed I was by sorrow for his grievousillness. In short, it was imperative that we should go at once to theDruze mountain. What were our feelings when we suddenly bethought usthat there was danger in that region for an Arab knight! Must we thenpart from our beloved, from our souls' companion? Suleymân declaredthat we had wept like babes at such a prospect. No, that must neverbe; our grief would kill us. We had been obliged to think of somecontrivance by which our hearts' delight might bear us company withoutmuch risk, and with the help of Allah we had hit upon a splendid plan, yet simple: That he should lay aside his lance and armour, dress as aChristian, and become our cook. 

'Why need he seem a Christian?' asked Rashîd. 

'Because all cooks who go with English travellers are Christians, ' wasthe earnest answer, 'and because no man would ever think to find aBedawi beneath a Christian's cloak. '

'A person of my master's standing ought to have a cook, ' murmuredRashîd, as one who thought aloud. 

Never have I seen such horror in the face of man as then convulsed thefeatures of the desert knight. He, a cook! He, the descendant of Iknow not whom, to wear the semblance of a heathen and degradedtownsman! Rather than that he would encounter twenty spear-points. Ifwe were going to the mountain of the Druzes, we might go alone!

We all were eager to express regret. He listened with a sneer, andanswered nothing. After a while he beckoned me to speak apart withhim, and, when we were beyond the hearing of the others, said:

'I leave thee now, O Faranji, and journey towards Nejd to seekadventures. Thou lovest me I am aware, and so I grieve to part fromthee; but thy adherents are low people and devoured by envy. If everwe should meet again I will destroy them. If thou shouldst travelsouth and eastward through the Belka, remember me, I beg, and seek ourtents. There thou shalt find a welcome far more hospitable than theDruze will give thee. I shall never cease to pray for thee. My griefwill be extreme until we meet again. I pray thee give me that revolveras a souvenir. '

CHAPTER XII

THE FANATIC

A European hat in those days was a rarity except in the large towns, and it attracted notice. That is the reason why I generally discardedit, with other too conspicuously Western adjuncts. Where theinhabitants were not well-mannered, the hat was apt to be saluted witha shower of stones. 

One afternoon I happened to be riding by myself along a so-called roadin the bare mountain country round Jerusalem, wearing a hat, when Icame on a pedestrian resting in the shadow of a rock by the wayside. He was a native Christian--that much could be detected at a glance;but of what peculiar brand I could not guess from his costume, whichconsisted of a fez; a clerical black coat and waistcoat, quite ofEnglish cut, but very much the worse for wear; a yellow flannel shirt, and a red cord with tassels worn by way of necktie; baggy Turkishpantaloons; white stockings, and elastic-sided boots. Beside him, along staff leaned up against the rock. He sprang upon his feet at myapproach, and, with an amiable smile and bow, exclaimed:

'Good afternoon. I think you are an English gentleman?'

I pleaded guilty to the charge, and he asked leave to walk beside meuntil past a certain village, not far distant, of which the people, heassured me, were extremely wicked and averse to Christians. I readilyconsented, and he took his staff and walked beside me, pouring out hissoul in fulsome flattery. 

The village which he dreaded to approach alone was the abode ofMuslims, devilish people who hate the righteous Christians andpersecute them when they get the chance. He said that he lookedforward to the day when the English would take over the whole countryand put those evil-doers in their proper place, below the Christians. It would be a mercy and a blessing to the human race, he gave as hismature opinion, if the English were to conquer the whole world. Theywere so good and upright and so truly pious. He did not think that anywrong was ever done in England. And then:

'You are a Brûtestant?' he asked. 

I answered that I was a member of the Church of England. 

'Ah, thank God!' he cried. 'I also am a Brûtestant--a Babtist. ' Heseemed to think that my avowal made us brothers. 

It seemed, from the account he gave me of himself, that he was anevangelist, working to spread the truth among his wickedcountry-people; for the Christians of the Greek and Latin Churcheswere both wicked and benighted, he informed me, and would persecutehim, like the Muslims, if they got the chance. It was hard work, hetold me, turning up his eyes to heaven. He grieved to say it, butthere seemed no other way to purge the land of all those wicked peoplesave destruction. He wondered that the Lord had not destroyed themlong ago. Yet when I said that I did not agree with him, but thoughtthat they were decent folk, though rather backward, he came round tomy opinion in a trice, exclaiming:

'Ah, how true you speak! It is that they are backward. They willneffer be no better till they get the Gosbel light, the liffin water. '

I told him he was talking nonsense; that, for my part, I thought themissionaries did more harm than good, and once again he changed hisstandpoint, though less boldly, saying:

'It is so delightful to talk thus freely to a noble English gentleman. God knows that I could listen for a day without fatigue, you talk sosweet. And what you say is all so new to me. '

And he proceeded to relate with what severity the English missionariestreated native converts like himself, mentioning many wicked thingswhich they had done in his remembrance. I could not but admire hisversatility and total lack of shame in his desire to please. Thustalking, we approached the village of his fears. 

'If I was by myself I should be much afraid, ' he fawned; 'but not withyou. These wicked beoble do not dare to hurt an English gentleman, whowears the hat and is brotected by the Bowers of Eurobe. '

We had not really got into the place before some boys at play amongthe rocks outside the houses, spying my hat, threw stones in ourdirection. One hit my horse. I raised my whip and rode at them. Theyfled with screams of terror. Glancing back, I could perceive no signof my devout companion. But when I returned at leisure, having driventhe young rogues to cover, I found him vigorously beating a small boywho had fallen in the panic flight and, finding himself left behind, had been too frightened to get up again. 

Never have I seen a face of such triumphant malice as then appeared onthat demure evangelist. He beat the child as if he meant to kill it, muttering execrations all the while and looking round him furtivelyfor fear lest other Muslims should appear in sight, in which case, Ibelieve, he would at once have turned from blows to fondling. 

'The wicked boy!' he cried, as I came up, 'to throw stones at a nobleEnglish gentleman. He well deserfs to be deliffered ofer to the Bowersof Eurobe. '

I bade him leave the child alone, or it would be the worse for him. Aggrieved, and, in appearance, shocked at my unsympathetic tone, heleft his prey, and I endeavoured to speak comfort to the victim; who, however, took no notice of my words, but ran hard for the village, howling lustily. 

'The wicked boy! The wicked children!' the evangelist kept moaning, inhesitating and half-contrite tones. 'It is a bity that you let him go. He will perhabs make trouble for us in the fillage. But you are sobrafe. I think the English are the brafest kind of beeble. '

I also thought it possible there might be trouble; but I decided to goon, not wishing to show fear before that craven. He cried aloud in aweand wonder when I told him that little boys threw stones in ChristianEngland. 

'But only upon unbelievers!' he exclaimed imploringly, as one whowould preserve his last illusion. 

I replied to the effect that members of the Church of England would, no doubt, have stoned a Baptist or a Roman Catholic with pleasure, ifsuch heretics with us had dressed in a peculiar way; but that, in myopinion, it was only natural instinct in a boy to throw a stone at anyliving thing which seemed unusual. 

The shock this information gave him--or his private terrors--kept himsilent through the village; where the people, men and women, watchedus pass with what appeared to be unfriendly faces. I was ill at ease, expecting some attack at every step. 

As luck would have it, at the far end of the place, when I could seethe open country, and was giving thanks for our escape, a great bigstone was thrown by a small boy quite close to me. It struck me on thearm, and hurt enough to make me really angry. 

'For God's sake, sir!' implored my terrified companion, 'Ride on! Donothing! There are men obserfing. '

I heard him taking to his heels. But I had caught the culprit, and wasbeating him. His yells went forth with terrible insistence:

'O my father, O my mother, help. Ya Muslimin!'

And, in a trice, I was surrounded by a group of surly-lookingfellâhîn, one of whom told me curtly to release the boy. I did soinstantly, prepared for trouble. But no sooner had I left off beatingthan that man began. The boy's appeals for help went forth anew; butthis time he addressed them to his mother only, for his father heldhim. 

I begged the man to stop, and in the end he did so. 

All those ferocious-looking fellâhîn returned my smile at thisconclusion, and wished me a good evening as I rode away. 

I never saw that bright evangelist again. No doubt he ran till he hadreached some place inhabited by altogether righteous Christian people. But the way he started running was a clear inducement to pursuit toany son of Adam not evangelised. 

CHAPTER XIII

RASHÎD'S REVENGE

We were staying with an English friend of mine--a parson, though theleast parsonical of men--who had a pleasant little house in a Druzevillage of Mount Lebanon, and nothing to do but watch, and do hisutmost to restrain, the antics of a very wealthy and eccentric ladymissionary. He had gone away for a few weeks, leaving us inpossession, when another sort of clergyman arrived--a little man withlong white beard, sharp nose, and pale, seraphic eyes. He was, orfancied that he was, on duty, inspecting missionary establishments inthose mountains. The master of the house had once invited him to staythere if he passed that way. He seemed surprised to find us inpossession, and treated us as interlopers, though I was in fact hishost, regarding our small dwelling as a clergy house. His gazeexpressed an innocent surprise when I sat down to supper with him andperformed the honours on the night of his arrival. He gave his ordersboldly to my servant, and his demeanour plainly asked what business Ihad there, though he would never listen to my explanation. 

I took the whole adventure philosophically, but rage and indignationtook possession of Rashîd. And his indignation was increased by thepopularity of our insulter with the girls and teachers of themission-school hard by. Our guest was innocence itself, if silly andconceited. But Rashîd watched all his movements, and could tell methat the old 'hypocrite, ' as he invariably called him, went to theschool each day and kissed the pupils, taking the pretty ones upon hisknee, and making foolish jokes, talking and giggling like an imbecile, bestowing sweetmeats. With them--for the most sinful motives, asRashîd averred, and, I suppose, believed--he was all sugar; but whenhe came back to the house he was as grumpy as could be. Rashîd wouldhave destroyed him at a nod from me one evening when he said:

'I think I must have left my glasses over at the school. Will you begood enough to go and ask?'

'Now your Honour knows how we feel when we meet a man like that; andthere are many such among the Franks, ' my servant whispered in my earas I went out obediently. 'By Allah, it is not to be endured!'

The parson occupied the only bedroom; and I slept out upon the balconyon his account. Yet he complained of certain of my garments hanging inhis room, and flung them out. It was after that revolting episode, when I was really angry for a moment, that Rashîd came to me and said:

'You hate this hypocrite; is it not so?'

'By Allah, ' I replied, 'I hate him. '

He seemed relieved by the decision of my tone, and then informed me:

'I know a person who would kill him for the sake of thirty Englishpounds. '

It became, of course, incumbent on me to explain that, with usEnglish, hatred is not absolute as with the children of theArabs--mine had already reached the laughing stage. He was evidentlydisappointed, and answered with a weary sigh:

'May Allah rid us of this foul oppression!'

It was a bitter pill for him, whose whole endeavour was for myaggrandisement, to see me treated like a menial by our guest; who, one fine evening, had me summoned to his presence--I had been sittingwith some village elders in the olive grove behind the house--and madeto me a strange proposal, which Rashîd declared by Allah proved hisperfect infamy. His manner was for once quite amiable. Leaning back ina deck-chair, his two hands with palms resting on his waistcoat, thefingers raised communicating at the tips, he said, with clericalcomplacency:

'It is my purpose to make a little tour to visit missionary ladies atthree several places in these mountains, and then to go on to Jezzînto see the waterfall. As you appear to know the country and the peopleintimately, and can speak the language, it would be well if you cametoo. The man Rashîd could wait upon us all. '

Rashîd, I knew, was listening at the door. 

'Us all? How many of you are there, then?'

He hemmed a moment ere replying:

'I--er--think of taking the Miss Karams with me'--Miss Sara Karam, ayoung lady of Syrian birth but English education, was head teacher atthe girls' school, and her younger sister, Miss Habîbah Karam, washer constant visitor--'I thought you might take charge of the youngerof the two. The trip will give them both great pleasure, I am sure. '

And they were going to Jezzîn, where there was no hotel, and we shouldhave to herd together in the village guest-room! What would my Arabfriends, censorious in all such matters, think of that?

I told him plainly what I thought of the idea, and what themountain-folk would think of it and all of us. I told him that I hadno wish to ruin any woman's reputation, nor to be forced into unhappymarriage by a public scandal. He, as a visitor, would go away again;as an old man, and professionally holy, his good name could hardlysuffer among English people. But the girls would have to live amongthe mountaineers, who, knowing of their escapade, would thenceforthscorn them. And as for me----

'But I proposed a mere excursion, ' he interpolated. 'I fail to see whyyou should take this tone about it. '

'Well, I have told you what I think, ' was my rejoinder. I then wentout and told the story to Rashîd, who heartily applauded my decision, which he had already gathered. 

I did not see our simple friend again till after breakfast the nextmorning. Then he said to me, in something of a contrite tone:

'I have been thinking over what you said last night. I confess I hadnot thought about the native gossip. I have decided to give up theexpedition to Jezzîn. And it has occurred to me that, as you are notgoing, I could ride your horse. It would save the trouble and expenseof hiring one, if you would kindly lend it. '

Taken fairly by surprise, I answered: 'Certainly, ' and then went outand told Rashîd what I had done. He wrung his hands and bitterlyreproached me. 

'But there is one good thing, ' he said; 'Sheytân will kill him. '

In all the months that we had owned that horse Rashîd had never oncebefore alluded to him by the name which I had chosen. It wasill-omened, he had often warned me. But nothing could be tooill-omened for that hypocrite. 

'I do not want to lend the horse at all, ' I said. 'And I am prettysure he could not ride him. But what was I to say? He took me bysurprise. '

'In that case, ' said Rashîd, 'all is not said. Our darling shall enjoyhis bath to-day. '

The washing of my horse--a coal-black Arab stallion, as playful as akitten and as mad--was in the nature of a public festival for all theneighbours. Sheytân was led down to the spring, where all thepopulation gathered, the bravest throwing water over him with kerosenetins, while he plunged and kicked and roused the mountain echoes withhis naughty screaming. On this occasion, for a finish, Rashîd let gohis hold upon the head-rope, the people fled in all directions, andoff went our Sheytân with tail erect, scrambling and careering up theterraces, as nimble as a goat, to take the air before returning to hisstable. 

Our reverend guest had watched the whole performance from our balcony, which, from a height of some three hundred feet, looked down upon thespring. I was up there behind him, but I said no word till heexclaimed in pious horror:

'What a vicious brute! Dangerous--ought to be shot!' when I inquiredto what he was alluding. 

'Whose is that savage beast?' he asked, with quite vindictive ire, pointing to Sheytân, who was disporting on the terrace just below. 

'Oh, that's my horse, ' I answered, interested. 'He's really quite alamb. '

'Your horse! You don't mean that?'

He said no more just then, but went indoors, and then out to themission school to see the ladies. 

That evening he informed me: 'I shall not require your horse. I had nonotion that it was so strong an animal when I suggested borrowing it. Old Câsim at the school will hire one for me. I should be afraid lestsuch a valuable horse as yours might come to grief while in mycharge. '

That was his way of putting it. 

We watched the party start one early morning, the clergyman allsmiles, the ladies in a flutter, all three mounted on hired chargersof the most dejected type, old Câsim from the school attending themupon a jackass. Rashîd addressed the last-named as he passed ourhouse, applying a disgraceful epithet to his employment. The poor oldcreature wept. 

'God knows, ' he said, 'I would not choose such service. But what am Ito do? A man must live. And I will save my lady's virtue if I can. '

'May Allah help thee!' said Rashîd. 'Take courage; I have robbed hiseyes. '

I had no notion of his meaning at the time when, sitting on thebalcony, I overheard this dialogue; but later in the day Rashîdrevealed to me two pairs of eyeglasses belonging to our guest. Withoutthese glasses, which were of especial power, the reverend man couldnot see anything in detail. 

'And these two pairs were all he had, ' exclaimed Rashîd with triumph. 'He always used to put them on when looking amorously at the ladies. The loss of them, please God, will spoil his pleasure. '

CHAPTER XIV

THE HANGING DOG

Our English host possessed a spaniel bitch, which, being well-bredgave him much anxiety. The fear of mésalliances was ever in his mind, and furiously would he drive away the village pariahs when they cameslinking round the house, with lolling tongues. One brown and whitedog, larger than the others and with bristling hair, was a particularaversion, the thought of which deprived him of his sleep of nights;and not the thought alone, for that persistent suitor--more like abear than any dog I ever saw--made a great noise around us in thedarkness, whining, howling, and even scrabbling at the stable door. Atlength, in desperation, he resolved to kill him. 

One night, when all the village was asleep, we lay out on the balconywith guns and waited. After a while the shadow of a dog slinking amongthe olive trees was seen. We fired. The village and the mountainsechoed; fowls clucked, dogs barked; we even fancied that we heard thecries of men. We expected the whole commune to rise up against us; butafter a short time of waiting all was still again. 

Rashîd, out in the shadows, whispered: 'He is nice and fat, ' as if hethought that we were going to eat the dog. 

'And is he dead?' I asked. 

'Completely dead, ' was the reply. 

'Then get a cord and hang him to the balcony, ' said my companion. 'Hisodour will perhaps attract the foxes. '

Another minute and the corpse was hanging from the balcony, while welay out and waited, talking in low tones. 

The bark of foxes came from vineyards near at hand, where there wereunripe grapes. 'Our vines have tender grapes, ' our host repeated;making me think of the fable of the fox and the grapes, which Irelated to Rashîd in Arabic as best I could. He laughed as heexclaimed:

'Ripe grapes, thou sayest? Our foxes do not love ripe grapes andseldom steal them. I assure you, it was sour grapes that the villainwanted, and never did they seem so exquisitely sour as when he foundout that he could not reach them. How his poor mouth watered!'

This was new light upon an ancient theme for us, his hearers. 

After an hour or two of idle waiting, when no foxes came, we went tobed, forgetting all about the hanging dog. 

The house was close beside a carriage road which leads down from thechief town of the mountains to the city, passing many villages. As itwas summer, when the wealthy citizens sleep in the mountain villagesfor coolness' sake, from the dawn onward there was a downward streamof carriages along that road. When the daylight became strong enoughfor men to see distinctly, the sight of a great brown and white doghanging from our balcony, and slowly turning, struck terror in thebreasts of passers-by. Was it a sign of war, or some enchantment?Carriage after carriage stopped, while its inhabitants attempted toexplore the mystery. But there was nobody about to answer questions. My host and I, Rashîd as well, were fast asleep indoors. Inquirerslooked around them on the ground, and then up at the shuttered houseand then at the surrounding olive trees, in one of which they finallyespied a nest of bedding on which reclined a blue-robed man asleep. Itwas the cook, Amîn, who slept there for fresh air. The firing of thenight before had not disturbed him. 

By dint of throwing stones they woke him up, and he descended from histree and stood before them, knuckling his eyes, which were still fullof sleep. 

They asked: 'What means this portent of the hanging dog?'

He stared incredulously at the object of their wonder, then exclaimed:'Some enemy has done it, to insult me, while I slept. No matter, Iwill be avenged before the day is out. '

The tidings of the mystery ran through the village, and everyable-bodied person came to view it, and express opinions. 

'The dog is well known. He is called Barûd; he was the finest in ourvillage. He used to guard the dwelling of Sheykh Ali till hetransferred his pleasure to the house of Sheykh Selîm. It was a sinto kill him, ' was the general verdict. And Amîn confirmed it, saying:'Aye, a filthy sin. But I will be avenged before the day is out. '

At last Rashîd, awakened by the noise of talking, came out of thestable where he always slept, and with a laugh explained the wholeoccurrence. Some of the villagers were greatly shocked, and blamed usstrongly. But Rashîd stood up for us, declaring that the dog belongedin truth to no man, so that no man living had the right to blame hismurderer; whereas the valuable sporting bitch of the Casîs (our host)was all his own, and it was his duty therefore to defend her fromimproper lovers. He then cut down the body of the dog, which no one uptill then had dared to do; and all the people gradually went away. 

The coast was clear when we arose towards eight o'clock. Rashîd, withlaughter, told the tale to us at breakfast. We had been silly, weagreed, to leave the hanging dog; and there, as we supposed, thematter ended. 

But hardly had we finished breakfast when a knock came at the opendoor, and we beheld a tall and dignified fellâh depositing his staffagainst the doorpost and shuffling off his slippers at the call toenter. 

He said the murdered dog was his, and dear to him as his own eyes, hiswife and children. He was the finest dog in all the village, of sorare a breed that no one in the world had seen a dog just like him. Hehad been of use to guard the house, and for all kinds of work. Thefellâh declared his worth to be five Turkish pounds, which we must payimmediately unless we wished our crime to be reported to theGovernment. 

With as nonchalant an air as I could muster, I offered him abeshlik--fourpence halfpenny. He thereupon became abusive andwithdrew--in the end, hurriedly, because Rashîd approached him in ahostile manner. 

He had not been gone ten minutes when another peasant came, assertingthat the dog was really his, and he had been on the point of regaininghis possession by arbitration of the neighbours when we shot theanimal. He thus considered himself doubly injured--in his expectationsand his property. He came to ask us instantly to pay an Englishpound, or he would lay the case before the Turkish governor, withwhom, he could assure us, he had favour. 

I offered him the beshlik, and he also stalked off in a rage. 

We were still discussing these encounters with Rashîd when therearrived a vastly more imposing personage--no other than the headman ofthe village, the correct Sheykh Mustafa, who had heard, he said, ofthe infamous attempts which had been made to levy blackmail on us, andcame now in all haste to tell us of the indignation and disgust whichsuch dishonesty towards foreigners aroused in him. He could assure usthat the dog was really his; and he was glad that we had shot thecreature, since to shoot it gave us pleasure. His one desire was thatwe should enjoy ourselves. Since our delight was in the slaughter ofdomestic animals, he proposed to bring his mare--of the best blood ofthe desert--round for us to shoot. 

We felt exceedingly ashamed, and muttered what we could by way of anapology. But the sheykh would not accept it from us. Gravely smiling, and stroking his grey beard, he said: 'Nay, do what pleases you. Godknows, your pleasure is a law to us. Nay, speak the word, and almost(God forgive me!) I would bring my little son for you to shoot. Sounlimited is my regard for men so much above the common rules of thisour county, and who are protected in their every fancy by the Powersof Europe. '

His flattery dejected us for many days. 

CHAPTER XV

TIGERS

The fellâhîn who came to gossip in the winter evenings round our lampand stove assured us there were tigers in the neighbouring mountain. We, of course, did not accept the statement literally, but our Englishfriend possessed the killing instinct, and held that any felinecreatures which could masquerade in popular report as tigers wouldafford him better sport than he had yet enjoyed in Syria. So when thesettled weather came we went to look for them. 

For my part I take pleasure in long expeditions with a gun, thoughnothing in the way of slaughter come of them. My lack of keenness atthe proper moment has been the scorn and the despair of native guidesand hunters. Once, in Egypt, at the inundation of the Nile, I had beenrowed for miles by eager men, and had lain out an hour upon an isletamong reeds, only to forget to fire when my adherents whispered asthe duck flew over, because the sun was rising and the desert hillswere blushing like the rose against a starry sky. I had chased asolitary partridge a whole day among the rocks of En-gedi without theslightest prospect of success; and in the Jordan valley I had enduredgreat hardships in pursuit of wild boar without seeing one. It was thelurking in wild places at unusual hours which pleased me, not thematching of my strength and skill against the might of beasts. I havealways been averse to every sort of competition. This I explain thatall may know that, though I sallied forth with glee in search ofsavage creatures, it was not to kill them. 

We set out from our village on a fine spring morning, attended byRashîd, my servant, and a famous hunter of the district namedMuhammad, also two mules, which carried all things necessary for ourcamping out, and were in charge of my friend's cook, Amîn by name. Werode into the mountains, making for the central range of barrenheights, which had the hue and something of the contour of a lion'sback. At length we reached a village at the foot of this commandingrange, and asked for tigers. We were told that they were farther on. A man came with us to a point of vantage whence he was able to pointout the very place--a crag in the far distance floating in a haze ofheat. After riding for a day and a half we came right under it, and ata village near its base renewed inquiry. 'Oh, ' we were told, 'thetigers are much farther on. You see that eminence?' Again a mountainafar off was indicated. At the next village we encamped, for nightdrew near. The people came out to inspect us, and we asked them forthe tigers. 

'Alas!' they cried. 'It is not here that you must seek them. By Allah, you are going in the wrong direction. Behold that distant peak!'

And they pointed to the place from which we had originally started. 

Our English friend was much annoyed, Rashîd and the shikâri and thecook laughed heartily. No one, however, was for going back. Upon thefollowing day our friend destroyed a jackal and two conies, whichconsoled him somewhat in the dearth of tigers, and we rode forwardresolutely, asking our question at each village as we went along. Everywhere we were assured that there were really tigers in themountain, and from some of the villages young sportsmen who owned gunsinsisted upon joining our excursion, which showed that they themselvesbelieved such game existed. But their adherence, though it gave ushope, was tiresome, for they smoked our cigarettes and ate our food. 

At last, towards sunset on the seventh evening of our expedition, wesaw a wretched-looking village on the heights with no trees near it, and only meagre strips of cultivation on little terraces, like ledges, of the slope below. 

Our friend had just been telling me that he was weary of thiswild-goose chase, with all the rascals upon earth adhering to us. Hedid not now believe that there were tigers in the mountain, nor did I. And we had quite agreed to start for home upon the morrow, when thepeople of that miserable village galloped down to greet us withdelighted shouts, as if they had been waiting for us all their lives. 

'What is your will?' inquired the elders of the place, obsequiously. 

'Tigers, ' was our reply. 'Say, O old man, are there any tigers in yourneighbourhood?'

The old man flung up both his hands to heaven, and his face becametransfigured as in ecstasy. He shouted: 'Is it tigers you desire?This, then, is the place where you will dwell content. Tigers? Ishould think so! Tigers everywhere!'

The elders pointed confidently to the heights, and men and women--evenchildren--told us: 'Aye, by Allah! Hundreds--thousands of them; notjust one or two. As many as the most capacious man could possiblydevour in forty years. '

'It looks as if we'd happened right at last, ' our friend said, smilingfor the first time in three days. 

We pitched our tent upon the village threshing-floor, the only flatplace, except roofs of houses, within sight. The village elders dinedwith us, and stayed till nearly midnight, telling us about the tigersand the way to catch them. Some of the stories they related wereincredible, but not much more so than is usual in that kind ofnarrative. It seemed unnecessary for one old man to warn us gravely onno account to take them by their tails. 

'For snakes it is the proper way, ' he said sagaciously, 'since snakescan only double half their length. But tigers double their wholelength, and they object to it. To every creature its own propertreatment. '

But there was no doubt of the sincerity of our instructors, nor oftheir eagerness to be of use to us in any way. Next morning, when westarted out, the headman came with us some distance, on purpose toinstruct the guide he had assigned to us, a stupid-looking youth, whoseemed afraid. He told him: 'Try first over there among the boulders, and when you have exhausted that resort, go down to the ravine, andthence beat upwards to the mountain-top. Please God, your Honours willreturn with half a hundred of those tigers which devour our crops. '

Thus sped with hope, we set out in good spirits, expecting not a bagof fifty tigers, to speak truly, but the final settlement of a disputewhich had long raged among us, as to what those famous tigers reallywere. Rashîd would have it they were leopards, I said lynxes, and ourEnglish friend, in moments of depression, thought of polecats. But, though we scoured the mountain all that day, advancing with theutmost caution and in open order, as our guide enjoined, we saw nocreature of the feline tribe. Lizards, basking motionless upon therocks, slid off like lightning when aware of our approach. Twosplendid eagles from an eyrie on the crags above hovered and wheeled, observing us, their shadows like two moving spots of ink upon themountain-side. A drowsy owl was put up from a cave, and one of ouradherents swore he heard a partridge calling. No other living creaturelarger than a beetle did we come across that day. 

Returning to the camp at evening, out of temper, we were met by allthe village, headed by the sheykh, who loudly hoped that we had hadgood sport, and brought home many tigers to provide a feast. When heheard that we had not so much as seen a single one he fell upon theluckless youth who had been told off to conduct us, and would haveslain him, I believe, had we not intervened. 

'Didst seek in all the haunts whereof I told thee? Well I know thoudidst not, since they saw no tiger! Behold our faces blackened throughthy sloth and folly, O abandoned beast!'

Restrained by force by two of our adherents, the sheykh spatvenomously at the weeping guide, who swore by Allah that he had obeyedinstructions to the letter. 

Our English friend was much too angry to talk Arabic. He bade me tellthe sheykh he was a liar, and that the country was as bare of tigersas his soul of truth. Some of our fellâh adherents seconded my speech. The sheykh appeared amazed and greatly horrified. 

'There are tigers, ' he assured us, 'naturally! All that you desire. '

'Then go and find them for us!' said our friend, vindictively. 

'Upon my head, ' replied the complaisant old man, laying his right handon his turban reverently. 'To hear is to obey. '

We regarded this reply as mere politeness, the affair as ended. Whatwas our surprise next morning to see the sheykh and all the able men, accompanied by many children, set off up the mountain armed withstaves and scimitars, and all the antique armament the villageboasted! It had been our purpose to depart that day, but we remainedto watch the outcome of that wondrous hunting. 

The villagers spread out and 'beat' the mountain. All day long weheard their shouts far off among the upper heights. If any tiger hadbeen there they must assuredly have roused him. But they returned atevening empty-handed, and as truly crestfallen as if they had indeedexpected to bring home a bag of fifty tigers. One man presented mewith a dead owl--the same, I think, which we had startled on the daybefore, as if to show that their display had not been quite in vain. 

'No tigers!' sighed the sheykh, as though his heart were broken. 'Whatcan have caused them all to go away? Unhappy day!' A lamentable wailwent up from the whole crowd. 'A grievous disappointment, but theworld is thus. But, ' he added, with a sudden brightening, 'if yourHonours will but condescend to stay a week or two, no doubt they willreturn. '

CHAPTER XVI

PRIDE AND A FALL

There was to be a grand fantasia at the castle of the greatest ofDruze sheykhs in honour of a visit from the English Consul-General inSyria; and as an Englishman I was invited to be there. It was ajourney of a day and a half. Upon the second morning Rashîd and I hadnot gone far ere we fell in with other horsemen wending in the samedirection as ourselves, well mounted and in holiday attire. Allgreeted us politely, but we kept apart, because they nearly all rodemares while we rode stallions--a fruitful source of trouble and acause of war. 

At length a young man mounted on a stallion overtook us with mostcordial greetings. I had met him often. He was the son of a richlandowner in a neighbouring valley, and, I think, the most beautifulhuman creature I ever saw. That day he was particularly good to lookat, his complexion of clear olive slightly flushed, his violet eyesbeneath their long dark lashes dancing, his perfect white teethgleaming with excitement and delight. He wore a cloak, broad striped, of white and crimson, a white frilled shirt of lawn showing above avest of crimson velvet, fawn-coloured baggy trousers, and softsheepskin boots. A snow-white turban crowned his whole appearance. Hishorse was thoroughbred and young, and he controlled its ceaselessdance to admiration. He told me that the stallion was his own, anuncle's gift, and quite the best in all the mountains; although mine, he added out of mere politeness, was undoubtedly a pearl of breedingand high spirit. He hoped with such a steed to gain renown in thatday's horsemanship, and, if it might be, win the notice of theConsul-General and his lady. 

'My father wished me to take out another horse, ' he said; 'but I lovethis one, and am used to all his ways. I could not do myself fulljustice on another, nor would Rustem do his best for any other rider. '

He proceeded to discuss the horses which we saw before us on the road, pointing out in each of them some defect, and exclaiming: 'I shallexcel them all, in sh' Allah! Does not your Honour also think my horsethe best?'

I assured him that I did indeed, and all my wishes were for hissuccess, 'because, ' said I, 'I know and like you, and I do not knowthe others. '

'But some thou knowest for a certainty, for all the Mountain will bethere. Come, let me name them to thee one by one. ' And some of thosehe named were certainly well known to me. 

'When thou seest Hasan, son of Ali, nicely mounted, wilt thou notthink he is the better man?'

'No, no, by Allah!' I disclaimed such fickleness. 'Be sure that ifgood wishes can ensure success, all mine are with thee in to-day'sevent. '

'Allah increase thy wealth!' he cried in joy, as if I had bestowed onhim a gift of price. 

There was a crowd of many colours on the well-made road which wandersup through orchards to the village and ends on the meydân before thecastle gate. There the crowd halted, making fast their horses to themany rings and tie-holes which were in the walls. Rashîd took chargeof my horse and his own, while I went on up steps on to a higherplatform intersected by a stream of ice-cold water plunging down intothe valley in a fine cascade whose spray and murmur cooled the air. That rush of water was the greatest luxury in such a land, and thelord of the castle took much pride in its contrivance. 

I went up to a door where soldiers and domestics lounged, but wasinformed: 'Our lord is out of doors. ' A soldier pointed to a bunch oftrees above the waterfall and overlooking the meydân, where manynotables in black frock coat and fez sat out on chairs. He ran on toannounce my coming. I was soon a member of the formal group, replyingto the usual compliments and kind inquiries. 

Coffee was handed round. Then came a tray of different kinds ofsherbet, then a tray of eatables. The chiefs around me talked ofharvests and the price of land, but, most of all, of horses, since itwas a horsey day. The screaming of a stallion came persistently fromthe meydân--a naughty screaming which foreboded mischief. I recognisedthe voice. The culprit was my own Sheytân. The screams were sodisturbing, so indecent, that several of the great ones round mefrowned and asked: 'Whose horse is that?' in accents of displeasure. I was ashamed to own him. 

At length the lord of the castle called a servant to his side andwhispered, pointing with his hand in the direction whence the screamsproceeded. The servant hurried off, but presently returned andwhispered something in his master's ear. His master looked at me andnodded gravely. He then addressed me in a deprecating tone, remarking:'Your Honour's horse is too high-spirited; the crowd excites him. Willyou allow him to be tethered in some other place?'

From the excessive smoothness of his manner I could guess that, had Ibeen a native of the land, he would have told me to remove the viciousbrute and myself likewise. I rose at once to go and see to it. 

'Pray do not give yourself the trouble!' he exclaimed, distressed. 

The servant went along with me, and, when we got to the meydân, Rashîdcame running. Sheytân was then indeed a terrifying sight, withstreaming tail, mane bristling, and a wicked bloodshot eye, tearing athis head-rope, one minute pawing at the wall as if to climb it, thenext kicking wildly with his head down. I know little of horses ingeneral, but I knew that particular horse, and he knew me. I went upquietly and talked to him, then loosed the rope and led Sheytân awaywithout much difficulty, Rashîd meanwhile explaining to the servant ofthe house that no one else could possibly have done it. We tied him atthe further end of the meydân. 

Then I went back on to the terrace, where the notables had risen andwere looking at the youths who were to take part in the fantasia, among them my companion of the road, the young Sheykh Abdul Hamid. These were now on the parade-ground with their horses. My neighbour inthe group of great ones said, politely:

'Your Honour should go with them; it is only proper, since their goingis to compliment the representative of England. And you are, I see, avery skilful cavalier. The way you quieted that horse of yours waswonderful. We have all been talking of it. Ride with them!'

I begged to be excused. The essence of the fantasia is to show offone's own prowess and one's horse's paces while careering madly in awidish circle round some given object--an open carriage with somegreat one in it, or a bridal pair--taking no note of obstacles, dashing over rocks and gulleys and down breakneck slopes, loading andfiring off a gun at intervals, in full career. I had tried the feelingof it once at a friend's wedding, and had been far from happy, thoughmy horse enjoyed the romp and often tried to start it afterwards whenthere was no occasion. Remembering Abdul Hamid and his desire forpraise that day, I said:

'There is only one good horseman here--Abdul Hamid, the son of theSheykh Mustafa. All the rest of us, compared with him, are merepedestrians. '

I pointed out the youth in question to my neighbour, who was a man ofpower in the mountains, and he praised the beauty of his form onhorseback. 

'By Allah, right is with thee, ' he assented. 'There is none but he. '

Away they went--Jinblâts, Talhûks, and Abdul Meliks--all in cleanwhite turbans, with coloured cloaks a-stream upon the breeze, onhorses gorgeously caparisoned. We waited half an hour--in silence, asit seemed; and then we heard the noise of their return, the shouts, the firing. I swear I saw a horse and man surmount a housetop in thevillage and then leap down upon the other side. At last, with yellsand reckless gunshots and a whirl of dust, the crowd of horsemen camefull tilt on the meydân. Their leader--in appearance a mad angel--wasmy friend, Abdul Hamid. Suddenly he drew his rein, flinging the steedright back upon his haunches. In so doing, looking up at me with atriumphant smile, he somehow missed his balance and pitched clear overhis horse's head, just at the very moment when a carriage and paircontaining the beaming Consul-General and his lady, with a gloriousCawwâs upon the box, arrived upon the scene. I ran to help him, butanother person was before me. A tall old man, whose garb bespoke himan initiated Druze, rushed out among the horses and the dust and beatthe wretched lad about the shoulders, heaping curses on that lovelyhead for bringing shame upon an honoured house before such company. Itwas the lad's own father, the Sheykh Mustafa. I helped to drag the oldman off, and would have gone on to console the son; but just then Ibeheld Sheytân approaching with a broken head-rope. I contrived tocatch him and to mount without attending to the girths; and, once onhorseback, I was glad to be there; for quite fifty of the tetheredsteeds had broken loose in the excitement, and were rushing here andthere and fighting in a most alarming way. I have always had a dreadof horse-fights, and this was not a single fight; it was a mêlée, fresh horses every minute breaking loose to join it. Right in my waytwo angry stallions rose up, boxing one another like the lion and theunicorn, and a little boy of ten or thereabouts ran in between and, jumping, caught their head-ropes. 

I escaped at last and rode down through the village to the bottom ofthe valley, where a grove of walnut trees cast pleasant shade beside astream. There Rashîd found me later in the day. He told me that mydisappearance had caused consternation and alarm, the Consul-Generaland his lady having asked for me. Bidding him remain with the twohorses, I went back on foot to the castle, where I stayed only thetime necessary to pay my respects. 

As I was returning towards the valley, a litter borne between twomules was leaving the meydân. Beside it walked the stern SheykhMustafa, and in it, I had little doubt, reclined the beautiful AbdulHamid. 

I asked the serving-man who led the foremost mule if his young lordwas seriously hurt. He answered:

'Yes; for he has broken his elbow and his shoulder and hiscollar-bone. But that is nothing, since he has disgraced our house. '

A bitter wail of 'Woe the day!' came from within the palanquin. 

CHAPTER XVII

TRAGEDY

The sun was sinking down over the sea, the mountain wall with all itsclefts and promontories wore a cloak of many colours, when we sawbefore us on a rock a ruined tower. We were looking for some humanhabitation where we might get food and shelter for the night; but weshould have passed by that building, taking it to be deserted, had notwe espied a woman's figure sitting out before it in the evening light. 

Experience of late had taught us to shun villages, belongingthereabouts to a peculiar sect, whose members made a virtue ofinhospitality. At noon that day, when wishing to buy food, we had beenmet with such amazing insults that Rashîd, my henchman, had not yetrecovered from his indignation, and still brooded on revenge. Onseeing that the ruined tower had occupants, he said:

'If these refuse us, we will force an entrance mercilessly; for see, they dwell alone, with none to help them. '

He rode before me towards the tower, with shoulders squared and whipupraised. 

It surprised me that the woman sitting out before the door appearedindifferent to his approach, until, upon a closer view, I saw that shewas old and blind. She must, I thought, be deaf as well, since she hadfailed to move at sound of hoof beats; which sound brought out an agedman, who shattered Rashîd's plan of vengeance by exclaiming:'Itfaddalû! (Perform a kindness!' that is, 'Enter!'). 

'It is thou who doest kindness, ' I replied, by rote. 'We are thysuppliants for food and rest this night. '

'All mine is thine, ' the old man answered, coming to hold my horse'shead, while I dismounted. His wrinkled face was moulded to a patient, sad expression, which became more noticeable when he smiled; and hewas always smiling. 

I went into the tower and down a flight of much-worn steps, whichended in a heap of fallen masonry. 

'Deign to proceed, ' called out the tenant from behind me; when, climbing over the obstruction, I found myself in a large room, ofwhich the only furniture consisted in a heap of bedding and somecooking things. Rather to my surprise the place was clean. The old manflung himself upon the ground and blew upon the mass of charcoal in abrazier, and presently a smell of coffee stewing filled the dungeon;for such it doubtless had been in the past, its only window being highabove our heads, yet only just above the level of the rock, as Idiscovered when I went to seek Rashîd, who, by our host's direction, had bestowed the horses in a cavern by the sea. The blind old womanstill sat out before the door. 

I walked all round the tower and noticed small fields neatly fencedbelow it on the landward side, and a few hobbled goats upon a strip ofherbage near the shore; which, with some fishing-nets spread out uponthe rocks to dry, informed me how our host obtained a livelihood. 

As I went back towards the door, I met Rashîd bringing our saddlebags. He nodded to the woman, who still sat there motionless, and told me:'She is mad, the poor old creature--but not dangerous. Fear nothing. They are quite good people. It is strange, but he informs me she isnot his mother nor his wife, nor anyone by birth allied to him. Andyet he waits upon her, helpless as she is. '

Just then, the master of the tower appeared, and, going to the woman, took her hand and raised her. 'Itfaddalû!' he said, with just the samepolite alacrity with which he welcomed us on our arrival, as if she, too, had been an honoured guest. We all went down the broken stepsinto the dungeon. A meal of fish and bread was set before us. Thewoman took her food apart. The master of the house did not sit downtill she was satisfied; and, after supper, he set out a bed for her, and then washed out the vessels, before he came again and sat with us. By that time the old woman was asleep. Two lighted wicks, passedthrough a piece of cork which floated in a bowl of oil and water, roused the shadows of the vault. A sudden outcry at the far end of theroom made us both jump. 

'Fear nothing!' said our entertainer. 'She is dreaming. Ah, poor lady!Our Lord repay her goodness in the next life for all the evil she hasborne in this!'

'Is it permissible to ask to hear her story?' said Rashîd. 

The old man looked at me with a reluctant smile, as who should say:'It is a sad tale. Would you really care to hear it?'

I nodded gravely, and, with a deep sigh, he began:

'Many years ago--how many it is now impossible for me to say, for, dwelling here, I have lost count of time--a certain chieftain of thedesert Arabs had a son who loved the daughter of his father's enemy. There was no intercourse between the houses, but the young prince ofwhom I speak contrived to see the maiden and to meet her stealthily, even riding in among the dwellings of her people at risk of his ownlife and mine; for I must tell you that I am his foster-brother, though not by blood a scion of the desert, and so I served him, as wasusual with us, in the quality of an esquire. 

'Both tribes were of those Arabs which have villages for theirheadquarters, without renouncing the old life of war and wandering. Our village was upon the borders of the Belka, and hers far northtowards the Hauran. In those days there were no Turkish military postsbeyond the Jordan. The feuds and customs of the tribes were then theonly law; though now, they tell me, that that country is made safe fortravel. 

'There was no means to bridge the gulf which custom fixed between thelovers; and so my foster-brother, being mad with longing for the maid, decided to abduct her and escape into the settled country. I, lovinghim, applauded all his schemes. The princess Amîneh--for she was thedaughter of a sovereign chief--was of a spirit equal to his own. Sherode out from her father's town by night upon the best mare of thetribe with but one girl attendant. My lord and I were waiting by acertain well. And then we rode, well knowing that both tribes wouldhunt us, towards the wilâyet, where there was law and Turkish power toprotect us. The princess Amîneh lacked a man's endurance, and herwoman suffered greatly from fatigue. Their weakness had to beconsidered, and there came a time when it was evident that they couldgo no further without rest. 

'We were then within a short day's journey of the nearest Governmentpost, attaining which we should have been in safety. We took refuge ina ruined sheepcote. I was keeping the look-out while all the othersslept, when I noticed a small cloud of dust uprising in the distance. I roused my lord, and told him: "The pursuers come. " He looked uponthe princess and her maiden: they lay fast asleep, exhausted byfatigue. 

'"Let be, " he said. "There is no hope for us in flight. Lie low. Perhaps they will pass by without perceiving us. "

'And so they might have done, God knows, had not our horses neighed, winding the other horses. '

The old man wrung his hands, then hid his eyes with them. 

'Never, never can I tell the details of what followed. We fought, andthe princess fought beside us, snatching a scimitar which I waswearing from my side. Her boldness helped us somewhat to delay theend, for our assailants were her father's people, and they feared tohurt her. But the end came; it was from the first inevitable. I waslying helpless on the ground, wounded, but fully conscious, when theyslew my lord. At once they hewed his body into fragments, each ofwhich was soon exalted on a spear. The princess, wounded in the face, and pinioned, witnessed that. Her damsel lay inanimate, and at thetime I thought her dead. She was my promised bride. Then the Emirapproached with a great spear--as I suppose, to kill his daughter, butjust then there were loud shouts, and then another battle, in which Iheard the war-cry of our tribe. The father of my lord, pursuing alsowith intent to punish us, had come upon his ancient enemy at unawares. He won the day. The other Arabs broke and fled. The noblest of ourbraves pursued them; but several of the lewder sort remained behind totorture and dishonour my unhappy lady. I tried to rise and rescue her, but, with the effort, my spirit left my body, and I lay as dead--thepraise to Allah!--which is the reason why I am alive to-day. 

'So great a fight could not take place so near the guarded countrywithout coming to the knowledge of the Government. Ten Turkishsoldiers, armed with carbines, and an ombashi, coming to the spotnext day, discovered us, and carried the survivors to a place ofsafety. The princess was then, as you yourselves have seen her, exceptthat she was young and now is old. Her damsel had survived the fightwithout much hurt, by God's protection, having lain upon the ground sostill that she was left for dead. When I recovered from my wounds, Imarried her. 

'So tragic was our tale that all men pitied us. The Governor himselfprotected the princess, and placed her with the women of hishousehold. But she could not be happy in the city, in that kind oflife; her soul grew restless, pining. My wife, who visited her everyday, was grieved for her; and when I found that it was as she said, Iwent and asked the Governor's permission to support our lady. Perceiving that she was not happy in his house, he yielded; and wethree wandered through the settled country for long months, the peopleshowing kindness to us through compassion, for our tale was known. Atlast we reached this ruin by the sea, which pleased our lady because, my wife believed, the mountains are so like a wall raised up betweenher and the country of her grief. That must be thirty years ago; butshe has never wandered since. 

'My wife died and I buried her beside the shore; for years I haveperformed her duties to our lady. The people of these parts arewicked, but they let us be, because they think that we are under someenchantment. My prayer is always that I may survive my lady, for howcould she, poor creature, fare alone? So far, we have been veryfortunate, praise be to Allah!'

Rashîd was loud in his expressions of amazement at the story, his mindintent upon the central tragedy. He said no word of praise or wonderat our host's self-sacrifice. That he accepted, as a thing of course. This attitude of his, which I observed, prevented me from uttering thewords of pity and condolence which were on my tongue; and I am gladthose words were never uttered, for they were impertinent, and wouldhave seemed absurd to Orientals, who have not our sentiment. 

So, after the conclusion of the tale, we went to bed. 

CHAPTER XVIII

BASTIRMA

The moon began to shine upon the gardens of Damascus, casting paleshadows, though the daylight had not quite departed, and the skybehind the trees to westward was still green. We were sitting out onstools under the walnut trees, beside a stream which made a pleasantmurmur. The air was laden with the scent of unseen roses. Behind uswas a little tavern with a lantern lighted in its entrance arch, asolitary yellow eye amid the twilight. 

We were the centre of a crowd, as usual when Suleymân was with us. Hisvoice attracted people like a drum, and the matter of his talk hadpower to hold them. It was a weighty voice of studied modulations, which promised wisdom on the brink of laughter. He generally chosesome moral or religious subject for discourse, and illustrated it bywhat we call 'nawâdir' (rare things) selected from his vastexperience of life. By his own account he had journeyed to the world'srim, and had associated not alone with men, but also with jinn andghouls. On the other hand, he had been to Europe several times, andknew the streets of Paris and of London. Somehow, one never doubtedany of his stories while he was telling them, the accents of his voicehad such conviction. One was conscious that his tales--even the mostextravagant--were true in some mysterious, intrinsic way. This time hechose to speak to us of guilt and innocence, of good and evil works, and their effect on man's salvation. He aired the theory, which rousedapproving murmurs in the listening circle, that to have a goodintention was the chief desideratum for every son of Adam on hisjourney through the world, no matter though his works might turn outbad or unsuccessful. 

'To lie with good intention is better than to tell the truth with badintention, ' he declared. 

'To lie is the salt of a man; the shame is to him who believes, ' putin Rashîd, my servant, who was great at proverbs. 

Suleymân paid no heed to the interruption. 

'A sin committed thoughtlessly, ' said he, 'is light compared with onewhich thou hast hatched and planned. '

'Nay, O beloved, a sin is a sin, appointed so by the Most High; andthe duty of a man is to avoid it. The hurt to man's salvation is thesame, however he approach it, ' said an old man in the audience. 'If Icut my hand, is the wound less, is it not rather likely to bemore--for being thoughtless?'

There was a murmur of applause as all eyes turned on this objector, whose likeness could not be distinguished in the gloaming. 

I spoke in approbation of the view expressed, and the old man, emboldened, laughed:

'To lie is bad, to kill is bad, to steal is bad. Our Lord destroy thisrogue of an Intention, which plain men cannot catch nor understand!'

'Nay, listen!' Suleymân became persuasive and profoundly earnest, aswas his manner always under opposition. 'Thou hast not altogethercaught my meaning. I say a man should trust in the Most High, notthink too much beforehand of his ways. By thinking beforehand, he mayform a bad intention, since man's thoughts are naturally fallible. Let him think afterwards, thus he will learn to shun such snares infuture, and by repentance place a good work to his credit. Men learnwisdom from their sins, not from their righteous deeds. And theconsciousness of sin, the knowledge that they may at any moment fallinto it, preserves them from the arrogance of goodness. '

'There may be some small grain of sense in what thou sayest, ' chuckledthe objector, 'but not enough to make sin righteous, nor yet toabrogate the sacred law. '

Suleymân pursued unheeding: 'I have a rare thing, which will show youwhat I mean. 

'A new judge had been appointed to the Holy City. He was departingfrom Stambûl by ship to take up his appointment. On the quay, a Jew ofhis acquaintance came to him with reverence, and begged him kindly toconvey a basket of bastirma to his (the Jew's) son at the Holy City, which the Jews in their own language call Jerusalem. You all know whatbastirma is. It is dried and salted mutton--very tasty--a dish ofwhich the Turks are most inordinately fond. The Cadi graciouslyconsented, bidding his major-domo take the basket, and bestow itcarefully among the things. The Jew departed. The Cadi and his partyjourneyed till they reached their destination, where, upon arrival, they discovered a young Jew inquiring earnestly about a basket ofbastirma. The Cadi had forgotten its existence. "Ah, to be sure!" hecried. "I gave it my major-domo for safe keeping. "

'He called that servant, and commanded him to give the basket ofbastirma to the Jew there waiting. The major-domo bowed his head, folded his hands upon his breast, and said: "I ask forgiveness, O mylord. The basket still remains, but the bastirma was so excellentthat, having tasted but a piece of it, I wanted more, so that, infact, I ate it all upon the journey. I wish to pay the price of it tothis young Jew. "

'The Cadi thought his servant's offer fair enough, but the young Jewwent mad. Flying at the throat of the major-domo, he flung him to theground, and tried to tear the soul out of his body with his teeth andnails. The Cadi called upon the bystanders for help. The Jew wasdragged with difficulty from his victim. Then the Cadi asked:

'"Why, pray, did you attack my servant in that savage way?"

'"That man, " said the Jew, still white with rage, and pointing withhis tallow finger at the major-domo, who had risen from theground--"that man contains my grandfather. "

'"What words are these? Explain yourself!" the Cadi cried. 

'"Three weeks ago, O gracious Excellency, my grandfather died inStambûl. It had ever been his dearest wish to be buried in the HolyCity, near the scene of judgment; and that wish of his was law on ushis offspring. But how could we fulfil it? How, I ask? No skipper, whether Nazarene or Muslim, would receive a dead Jew on his ship forless than the corpse-weight in gold. And we are poor. To take himoverland was quite impossible. And so my father and my mother inStambûl cured his dead limbs, and made of them bastirma, and sent himhither in the way thou knowest. It follows that thy servant hascommitted a most dreadful crime. Let him be killed, I pray, andburied in the tomb we have prepared, that so my grandfather's greatwish may be fulfilled. "

'The major-domo was more dead than living as he heard that story. Herent his clothes and fell down on the ground insensible. 

'The Cadi answered the young Jew with wisdom, saying: "Thou artentitled to the price of one basket of bastirma, and no more, fromthis my servant; but he, on his side, has a right to all thou ownest. What wealth can ever compensate him for the haunting fear that on theLast Day he may rise inextricably mingled with thy worthy grandfather?Go, I say, and never venture to approach him any more, or I shallsurely act upon this judgment and denude thee quite. " Themajor-domo--'

Cries of 'Miskîn! Miskîn!' (poor fellow!) interrupted the narrative. 

One said: 'I once ate pig's flesh by mistake, but this man's plight ismuch more horrible. '

Suleymân's opponent cried: 'It was a judgment on him, evidently, forhis theft of the bastirma. Say, what became of him thereafter, Onarrator?'

'The major-domo, who, till then, had been a precious rogue--I knew himintimately from a child, and so can vouch for it--became from that dayforth the saintliest of men. He thought about his crime and mournedfor it, and deemed himself an unclean beast until he died--may Godhave mercy on him--and was buried in the Holy City as the Jew desired. He thought of nothing but good deeds, yet without seeking merit, knowing that nothing he could do would ever cleanse him. He became thehumblest and the best of men, who had before been arrogant and verywicked. Therefore I say that it is well for men to think of their sinsafter rather than before committing them. '

'But the intention!--What of the intention, O my master? His intentionwas not good. He stole!'

'His intention went no further than a basket of bastirma. The Jew wasonly an unpleasant accident, in respect whereof no guilt attached tohim. The case is clear, and yet, although I used to argue with him onthe subject, I never could contrive to make him see it. One thing iscertain, and will prove to you the worth of good intentions. He onlymeant to eat a basket of bastirma; therefore he felt great remorsewhen he devoured a Jew, and so became a saint for Paradise. Had heintended to devour a Jew he could not possibly have felt such greatremorse. What say you?'

And everyone agreed that it was so. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE ARTIST-DRAGOMAN

Of Suleymân in his capacity of dragoman I saw little but heard muchboth from himself and others. The English residents in Palestine andSyria--those who knew of him--regarded him as but a doubtfulcharacter, if one may judge from their repeated warnings to me not totrust him out of sight. His wisdom and his independent way of airingit did not please everybody as they did me; and reverence in dealingwith a fellow-man was not his strong point. By travellers, I gatherfrom innumerable testimonials which he showed me, he was either muchbeloved or the reverse, though none could say he did not know hisbusiness. 

His English, though voluminous and comprehensive, was sometimesstrange to native English ears. He had read the Bible in a Germanmission school, and spoke of 'Billiam's donkey' and 'the mightySimson' where we should speak of Balaam's ass and Samson. He calledthe goatskins used for carrying water 'beastly skins, ' and sometimesstrengthened a mild sentence with an expletive. 

I do not think he ever went so far in this way as another dragomanwho, riding out from Haifa one fine morning with an English lady, pointed to Mount Carmel and observed:

'Bloody fine hill, madam!'

He knew how to adapt his language to his audience. But it is curiousthat a man whose speech in Arabic was highly mannered, in Englishshould have cultivated solecisms. That he did cultivate them as anasset of his stock-in-trade I can affirm, for he would invent absurdmistakes and then rehearse them to me, with the question: 'Is thatfunny? Will that make the English laugh?'

For clergymen he kept a special manner and a special store of jokes. When leading such through Palestine he always had a Bible up beforehim on the saddle; and every night would join them after dinner andpreach a sermon on the subject of the next day's journey. This hewould make as comical as possible for their amusement, for clergymen, he often used to say to me, are fond of laughter of a certain kind. 

One English parson he bedevilled utterly by telling him the truth--orthe accepted legend--in such a form that it seemed false or mad tohim. 

As they were riding out from Jaffa towards Jerusalem, he pointed tothe mud-built village of Latrûn and said:

'That, sir, is the place where Simpson catch the foxes. '

'Ah?' said the clergyman. 'And who was Simpson?'

'He was a very clever gentleman, and liked a bit of sport. '

'Was he an Englishman?'

'No, sir; he was a Jew. He catch a lot of foxes with some traps; hekill them and he take their skins to Jaffa to the tailor, and he tellthe tailor: "Make me one big skin out of these little ones. " Thetailor make one thundering big fox's skin, big enough for Simpson toget inside of it. Then Simpson, he put on that skin one night, and goand sit out in the field and make the same noise what the little foxesmake. The little foxes come out of their holes to look; they see onebig fox sitting there, and they not know it's really Simpson. Theycome quite near and Simpson catch hold of their tails and tie theirtails together. Then they make the noise, and still more foxes come, and Simpson catch hold of their tails and tie their tails together, till he got hundreds and hundreds. '

'Whatever did he do with them?' inquired the parson. 

'He set fire to them. '

'What on earth did he do that for?'

'That, sir, was to annoy his wife's relations. '

'And would you believe it, ' added Suleymân when he told me the story, 'that foolish preacher did not know that it is in the Bible. He tookit all down in his notebook as the exploit of a Jewish traveller. Hewas the Heavy One. '

The last remark was in allusion to an Arabic proverb of which Suleymânwas very fond:

'When the Heavy One alights in the territory of a people there isnothing for the inhabitants except departure. '

Which, in its turn, is an allusion to the following story:

A colony of ducks lived on an island in a river happily until acertain day, when the carcase of an ox came drifting down the currentand stuck upon the forepoint of that island. They tried in vain tolift it up or push it off; it was too heavy to be moved an inch by alltheir efforts. They named it in their speech the Heavy One. Its stenchinfected the whole island, and kept on increasing until the haplessducks were forced to emigrate. 

Many Heavy Ones fell to the lot of Suleymân as dragoman, and he was bytemperament ill-fitted to endure their neighbourhood. Upon the otherhand, he sometimes happened on eccentrics who rejoiced his heart. AnAmerican admiral, on shore in Palestine for two days, asked only onething: to be shown the tree on which Judas Iscariot had hangedhimself, in order that he might defile it in a natural manner and soattest his faith. Suleymân was able to conduct him to the very tree, and to make the journey occupy exactly the time specified. TheAmerican was satisfied, and wrote him out a handsome testimonial. 

It must have been a hardship for Suleymân--a man by nature sensitiveand independent--to take his orders from some kinds of tourists andendure their rudeness. If left alone to manage the whole journey, hewas--I have been told, and I can well believe it--the best guide inSyria, devoting all his energies to make the tour illuminating andenjoyable; if heckled or distrusted, he grew careless and eventuallydangerous, intent to play off jokes on people whom he counted enemies. One Englishman, with a taste for management but little knowledge ofthe country, and no common sense, he cruelly obeyed in all things, with the natural result in loss of time and loss of luggage, sicknessand discomfort. That was his way of taking vengeance on the HeavyOnes. 

'And yet the man was happy, having had things his own way, even afterthe most horrid and disastrous journey ever made, ' he told me with asigh. 'Some men are asses. '

One afternoon, when I was riding round the bay from Akka towards thefoot of Carmel, supposing Suleymân to be a hundred miles away, I cameupon a group of tourists by the river Kishon, on the outskirts of thepalm grove. They had alighted and were grouped around a dragoman ingorgeous raiment, like gulls around a parrot. The native of the landwas holding forth to them. His voice was richly clerical inintonation, which made me notice that his audience consisted solely ofmembers of the clergy and their patient women. 

'This, ladies and gentlemen, ' the rascal was declaiming like a maninspired, 'is that ancient riffer, the riffer Kishon. It was here thatthe great Brophet Elijah bring the Brophets of Baal after he catchthem with that dirty trick which I exblain to you about the sacrificeub there upon that mountain what you see behind you. Elijah he comestrollin' down, quite habby, to this ancient riffer, singin' onelittle song; and the beoble they lug down those wicked brophets. ThenElijah take one big, long knife his uncle gif him and sharben it ubona stone like what I'm doin'. Then he gif a chuckle and he look amongthose brophets; and he see one man he like the look of, nice and fat;and he say: "Bring me that man!" They bring that man; Elijah slit histhroat and throw him in the riffer. Then he say: "Bring his brother!"and they bring his brother, and he slit his throat and throw him inthe riffer . .. Till they was ALL gone. Then Elijah clean his knifedown in the earth, and when he'd finished laughin' he put ub a brayer. 

'That was a glorious massycration, gentlemen!'

The preacher was Suleymân, at struggle with the Heavy Ones. He was notat all abashed when he caught sight of me. 

CHAPTER XX

LOVE AND THE PATRIARCH

I was staying for some weeks at Howard's Hotel in Jerusalem (IskenderAwwad, the dragoman, had transformed himself into the ChevalierAlexander Howard, a worthy, if choleric, gentleman, and a good friendof mine), and I rode out every day upon a decent pony, which I haddiscovered in the stables at the back of the hotel. One afternoon anephew of the stable-owner, who was something of a blood, proposedthat we should ride together out towards Bethlehem. His horse was asuperb and showy stallion, quite beyond his power to manage properly. My modest steed was fired to emulation, and, once beyond the outskirtsof Jerusalem, we tore away. At a corner where the road was narrowbetween rocks, I do not know exactly how, the big horse cannoned intomine and overturned him. I pitched headlong on some stones. 

My first impression was that I had struck a wet spot in that aridwilderness. Then I saw my horse at a great distance, galloping, andheard the nephew of the owner saying that he must pursue it, while Imust mount his horse and ride on slowly. 

'Not half a mile from here, upon that hill, ' he said, 'is Katamûn, thecountry seat of the Greek Patriarch. There you are certain to findpeople who will have compassion. Would God that I had never lived tosee this day! Would God that I were in the grave instead of you!'

He seemed beside himself with grief and fear on my account; and yetthe sense of property remained supreme. His first concern was toretrieve the runaway. 

Bewildered and unable to see clearly, I did not mount the horse, whichwould have mastered me in that condition, but led him slowly up thehill to Katamûn. Upon the top there was a grove of trees, above whichpeeped some flat roofs and a dome. At length I reached the gate ofthis enclosure. It was open, and I led the horse along a sort ofdrive, on which were many chickens and a tethered sheep, which, bolting round a tree at our approach, became inextricably tangled inits rope. 

In a court between a little church and other buildings, a grim oldwoman in a coloured head-veil looked at me out of a doorway. I calledto her that I had had an accident, and asked the favour of somewashing-water and a bandage. She stared at me in doleful wise, andshook her head. 

'Water! Bring me water!' I insisted. 

She went indoors and fetched a man of the same breed, whose eyes grewlarge and dull with horror at the sight of me. 

Again I asked to be allowed to wash my head and face. 

I heard the woman whisper: 'Shall I bring it?' and the man reply: 'Letbe! This blood-stained form is half a corpse already. He will surelydie. The horse, perhaps, is stolen. There has been a fight. If weshould touch him we might be concerned in it. Wait till the end. Thenwe will summon his Beatitude, and have our testimony written down toprove our innocence. '

Amazed at their stupidity, I took a step towards them, arguing. Theyvanished headlong, when I realised for the first time that myappearance was in truth alarming. Perceiving the advantage thatappearance gave me, I pursued them, promising them plagues in thisworld and perdition in the next unless they brought some waterinstantly. 

The horse, which I was leading all this while, had been as quiet as alamb; but, frightened by my shouts and gestures, he becameunmanageable. I was struggling with him in the doorway of the housewhen a large and dignified ecclesiastic came upon the scene, thejewelled cross upon his cassock flashing in the sun. In the twinklingof an eye, it seemed to me, he had subdued the horse and tied him to aring in the wall which I, in my bewilderment, had failed to see; hadseized me by the collar of my coat and driven me before him through akind of tunnel to a second court in which there was a cistern and apump. He worked that pump and held my head beneath it, cursing theservants for a pack of imbeciles. 

The man and woman reappeared, completely tamed. He sent them running, one for stuff to make a bandage, the other for medicaments, but saidno word to me until the work was ended, when he grinned and asked:'Art happy now?'

I told him that I felt a great deal better. 

'Good, ' he said, and led me by the hand into an upper chamber, richlycarpeted, and furnished with a cushioned divan, of which the windowsframed a wide view eastward over the Judæan wilderness. 

There, sitting comfortably, he asked who I was and of what country;and, hearing that I came from England, questioned me about the HighChurch and the Low Church in that land, and whether they formed onecommunion or were separate--a problem which he seemed to think ofgreat importance. He was glad, he said, that I was not a RomanCatholic, a sect which he regarded as the worst of heretics. 

But his concern with all these matters seemed perfunctory comparedwith the delight he took in farming; for when I noticed from thewindow some sleek cows munching in a small enclosure, he brightened upand told me they were recent purchases. He talked about his poultryand his sheep and goats, all of which he would be pleased to show meif I cared to see them. 

Accordingly, when we had drunk some coffee, which completed myrevival, he took me out and showed me round his small demesne. Wewere standing in the shade of trees, discussing turkeys, when mycompanion of the road arrived upon the truant horse. He was a memberof the Orthodox Greek Church. 

What was my amazement when, having tied up the horse, he came withreverent haste and knelt at my companion's feet, kissing his hand withpious and devoted fervour. The grey-bearded priest, with full browneyes, and hair that curled below the tall black head-dress like atrimming of grey astrakhan, with whom I had been talking sofamiliarly, was no other than the successor of St. James, the OrthodoxPatriarch of Jerusalem. I had supposed him some sub-prior or domesticchaplain. His Beatitude acknowledged my surprise by an ironic grin. 

The new arrival, still upon his knees, embarked on a long story, toldin lamentable tones, about a man who was in love, and like to die ofit, with a young girl who was the sister of his brother's wife. It isforbidden by the canons of the Eastern Church for two brothers tomarry two sisters. 

'Is there no way by which he may obtain her lawfully?' the suppliantasked. 

The Patriarch assumed an air of weariness, and shook his head. 

'If he were a Catholic or a Protestant he could obtain her lawfully. '

The Patriarch assumed an air of pitying scorn. 

'The case is very hard, ' the suppliant moaned, as he rose up from theground at last and cleaned his knees. 

The Patriarch, with a shrug, remarked that it was so. The young manshould not have cast eyes upon a maid unlawful to him. 

'The only way, ' he said, 'is to obtain annulment of the brother'smarriage by proving it to be illegal in some way. ' With that he leftthe subject and resumed his talk concerning poultry. My companion ofthe road was plucking at my sleeve. 

I took leave of the Patriarch respectfully, with many thanks. Heclapped me on the shoulder, saying: 'Come again! And never seek to wedthe sister of thy brother's wife. Your Church does not forbid suchmarriage--does it?--being still tainted with the Latin heresy. Whydoes the Orthodox Church forbid it? Because it brings confusion intofamilies, and is indecent. '

He seemed to jest, but the look he gave to my companion as we rodeaway was stern, I thought, and more than half-contemptuous. 

Excepting that my head was bandaged, I felt well again; so we rode on, as we had first intended, towards Bethlehem. Over a rocky land withpatches of pink cyclamen, black crows were wheeling in a sky of vividblue. 

We came into the olive groves beneath the hill on which stands theGreek priory of Mâr Elias, when my companion said ingratiatingly: 'Ifyou please, we will call at the monastery and take refreshment. Themonks are friends of mine. It was with the object of this visit that Iled our ride in this direction. '

As I raised no objection, we tied up our horses in the garden of themonastery and went in. We found the Prior in the middle of atea-party, a number of Greek neighbours, of both sexes, being gatheredin a very comfortably-furnished room. 

My friend, ere entering, implored me in a whisper not to tell themthat my accident was owing to his clumsy horsemanship. Instead, heput about some story which I did not clearly overhear--something abouta fight with desert Arabs, redounding to my credit, I conclude, fromthe solicitude which everyone expressed on my account when he had toldit. Some of the ladies present insisted on a second washing of mywounds with rose-water, and a second bandaging with finer linen thanthe Patriarch had used. Some monks, their long hair frizzedcoquettishly and tied with ribbon, helped in the work. I did not likethe look of them. My friend meanwhile was talking to some prettygirls. 

When we rode off again towards Jerusalem he asked me questions aboutthe Anglican and Roman Churches, and seemed to think it a sad defectin the former that it lacked the faculty of dispensation with regardto marriage. 

After a space of silence, as we were riding down the hill by theOphthalmic Hospital, with the Tower of David and the city wallscrowning the steep before us, he inquired: 'Did you observe thosegirls with whom I was conversing--especially the one with pale-blueribbons. It is her I love. ' And, when I complimented him on his goodtaste, he added: 'I think I shall become a Catholic, ' and startedweeping. 

I then learnt from his broken speech that he was himself the haplesslover of his story to the Patriarch. The girl whom I had seen at MârElias was the sister of his brother's wife. I was as sympathetic inappearance as I could be; but somehow all my sympathy was with thePatriarch, who seemed to me the only man whom I had seen that day. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE UNPOPULAR LANDOWNER

I had decided to buy land and settle down in Syria; and had obtainedconsent from home upon condition that I did not spend more than acertain sum of money, not a large one, which, Suleymân had told me, would be quite sufficient for the purpose. He pointed out how lands, at present desert, and to be bought for a mere song, could be renderedprofitable for the cost of bringing water to them. There was such atract of land adjacent to the village where he had a house, with waterrunning under it at no great depth. Rashîd, my servant, did not likethis notion of converting deserts into gardens. He called it simplewaste of time and labour, when gardens ready made were going cheap. There was a nice estate, with two perennial springs within itsboundaries, near his village in the north. His people would be proudand gratified if I would honour their poor dwelling while inspectingit. Suleymân lamented that his house was quite unworthy of myoccupation, but proposed to have a fine pavilion pitched outside it, if I would deign to grace the village as his guest. 

'Depend upon it, ' said an Englishman whom I consulted on one of myrare visits to the city, 'the land they recommend belongs to theirrelations. They will sell it you for twenty times the market value, and then adhere to you like leeches till they've sucked you dry. ' Headded: 'I advise you to give up the whole idea, ' but I was used tothat advice, and firm against it. 

His warning against native counsellors, however, weighed with me tothis extent, that I determined to ignore the lands they recommended intheir neighbourhood. Each was at first cast down when I announced thisresolution. But presently Rashîd exclaimed: 'No matter where we dwell. I still shall serve thee'; and Suleymân, after smoking his narghîleh along while in silence, said: 'Each summer I will visit thee and giveadvice. '

All three of us then set to work upon inquiries. Innumerable were thesheykhs who seemed to be in money difficulties and wished to selltheir land. Some owners journeyed forty miles to come and see me, andexplain the great advantage of their property. But, knowing somethingof the Land Code, I inquired about the tenure. I wanted only 'mulk' orfreehold land; and 'wakf' (land held in tail or mortmain) of variousand awful kinds is much more common. At last a sheykh came whodeclared his land was 'mulk, ' and certain of our neighbours, men ofworth, testified of their certain knowledge that he spoke the truth. 

The village where the property was situated was a long day's journeyfrom our own. A fortnight after my discussion with the owner Suleymânand I set out on our way thither, having sent Rashîd ahead of us tofind a decent lodging, since it was our intention to remain thereseveral days. 

The village was arranged in steps upon a mountain side, the roofs ofhouses on the lower level serving as approach to those above. On allthe steep slopes round about it there were orchards, with now and thena flat-roofed house among the trees. 

Rashîd came out to meet us, accompanied by certain of the elders, among whom I looked in vain for the owner of the land we were tovisit. My first inquiry was for him. Rashîd replied: 'He is unpopular. I went to the chief people of the village'--he waved his hand towardsthe persons who escorted him--'and they have set apart a house andstable for your Honour's use. '

The house turned out to be a single room, cube-shaped, and furnishedonly with some matting. The stable, part of the same building, wasexactly like it, except that it was open at one end. 

We had our supper at a tavern by the village spring, surrounded by afriendly crowd of fellâhîn. Again I looked for the old gentleman whomI had come to see, and whispered my surprise at not beholding him. Rashîd again replied: 'He is unpopular. '

Returning to the house with me, Rashîd arranged my bed; put candle, matches, cigarettes within my reach; fastened the shutters of twowindows; and retired, informing me that he and Suleymân were sleepingat the dwelling of the headman of the place. 

I had got into my bed upon the floor when there came a knocking onthe solid wooden shutters which Rashîd had closed. I went and openedone of them a little way. It was moonlight, but the window looked intothe gloom of olive trees. A voice out of the shadows questioned:

'Is it thou, the Englishman?'

It was the owner of the land, who then reproached me in heartbrokentones because I had not let him know the hour of my arrival, that heand his three sons might have gone forth upon the road to meet me. Theowners of the place where now I lodged were his chief enemies. Hebegged me to steal forth at once and come with him. When I refused, hegroaned despairingly and left me with the words:

'Believe not anything they say about us or the property. '

I closed the shutter and went back to bed. But it was hot. I roseagain and opened both the windows so as to secure whatever breezethere was, and, after a long spell of angry tossing due to sandflies, fell asleep. When I awoke the room was full of daylight and a murmurwhich I first mistook for that of insects, but soon found out to bethe voice of a considerable crowd of human beings. At every window wasa press of faces and of women's head-veils, and children raised upontheir mothers' shoulders. I heard a child's sad wail: 'O mother, liftme up that I, too, may behold the unbeliever!'

I made haste to cover myself somehow, for in my sleep I had kicked offthe bedclothes, and commanded all those women to be gone immediately. They merely grinned and wished me a good day, and then discussed mypersonal appearance, the whiteness of my skin, and more particularlymy pyjamas, with much interest. This went on till Rashîd appeared uponthe scene, bringing my india-rubber bath and a kerosene tin full ofwater. He closed and bolted all the shutters firmly, with sternreflections on the lack of shame of my admirers. 

I told him of the visit of the owner of the land. 

He answered as before: 'He is unpopular. '

I asked the reason, and he told me:

'There are in this part of the country two factions which have existedfrom old time. All the people in this village are adherents of onefaction, except that old man and his children, who uphold the other. The people would not mind so much if he kept silent, but he gibes atthem and vaunts his party upon all occasions. They intend to kill him. That is why he wants to sell. It is good to know this, since it givesus an advantage. '

Suleymân arrived. We all three breakfasted on slabs of country breadand a great bowl of curds, and then went out to view that old man'sland. The sheykh--whose name was Yûsuf--and his sons were there toshow us round, and, though the property was not extensive, theycontrived to keep us there till noon, when a round meal was spread forus beneath some trees. And after that was finished, the sheykh availedhimself of some remark of mine to start the whole perambulation onceagain. 

At last it came to mention of the price, which seemed to me excessive, and I said so to my friends. 

Rashîd replied: 'Of course! The business has not yet begun. To-morrowand the next day we shall view the land again; and after that we shallarrange for the appointment of two valuers, one for us and one forhim, who will inspect the land, first separately, then together; andafter that we shall appoint an arbiter who will remonstrate with theowner of the land; and after that----'

'But the business will take months. '

'That is the proper way, unless your Honour wishes to be cheated. '

'What is your opinion?' I inquired of Suleymân. 

'The land is good, and capable of much improvement, ' he replied, 'andall the trees go with it, which is an advantage. Also the source ofwater will be all our own. '

Suleymân repeated this remark in presence of the crowd of villagerswhom we found awaiting our return before my house. At once there rosea cry: 'That Yûsuf is a liar. Some of the trees do not belong to him. The water, too, does not originate upon his property, but on the hillabove, so can be cut from him. '

Suleymân was talking with the village headman. When he returned to mehis face was grave. 

'What is it?' I inquired. 'Has the Sheykh Yûsuf been deceiving us?'

He shook his head with a disgusted frown before replying:

'No, it is these others who are lying through dislike of him. Is yourheart set upon the purchase of that land?'

'By no means. '

'That is good; because this village is a nest of hornets. The headmanhas long marked that land out for his own. Were we to pay Sheykh Yûsufa good price for it, enabling him to leave the neighbourhood withhonour, they would hate us and work for our discomfort in a multitudeof little ways. We will call upon the Sheykh to-morrow and cry off thebargain, because your Honour caught a touch of fever from the landto-day. That is a fair excuse. '

We proffered it upon the morrow, when the Sheykh Yûsuf received itwith a scarce veiled sneer, seeming extremely mortified. Directlyafter we had left him, we heard later, he went down to the tavern bythe village spring and cursed the elders who had turned my mindagainst him in unmeasured terms; annoying people so that theydetermined there and then to make an end of him. 

Next morning, when we started on our homeward way, there was a noiseof firing in the village, and, coming round a shoulder of the hill insingle file we saw Sheykh Yûsuf seated on a chair against the wall ofhis house, and screened by a great olive tree, the slits in whose oldtrunk made perfect loopholes, blazing away at a large crowd of hostilefellâhîn. He used, in turn, three rifles, which his sons kept loadingfor him. He was seated, as we afterwards found out, because he hadbeen shot in the leg. 

I was for dashing to his rescue, and Rashîd was following. We shouldboth have lost our lives, most probably, if Suleymân had not shoutedat that moment, in stentorian tones: 'Desist, in the name of theSultan and all the Powers of Europe! Desist, or every one of you shallsurely hang!'

Such words aroused the people's curiosity. The firing ceased while werode in between them and their object; and Suleymân assured thevillagers politely that I was the right hand and peculiar agent of theEnglish Consul-General, with absolutely boundless power to hang andmassacre. 

Upon the other hand, we all three argued with Sheykh Yûsuf that heshould leave the place at once and lay his case before the Governor. 

'We will go with him, ' said Suleymân to me, 'in order that your Honourmay be made acquainted with the Governor--a person whom you ought toknow. His property will not be damaged in his absence, for they fearthe law. The heat of war is one thing, and cold-blooded malice isanother. It is the sight and sound of him that irritates them and sodrives them to excess. '

At length we got the Sheykh on horseback and upon the road; but he wasfar from grateful, wishing always to go back and fight. We could notget a civil word from him on the long ride, and just before we reachedthe town where lived the Governor he managed to escape. 

Rashîd flung up his hands when we first noticed his defection. 'Nowonder that he is unpopular, ' he cried disgustedly. 'To flee from us, his benefactors, after we have come so far out of our way throughkindness upon his account. It is abominable. Who, under Allah, couldfeel love for such a man?'

CHAPTER XXII

THE CAÏMMACÂM

Though the reason of our coming, the Sheykh Yûsuf, had deserted us, werode into the town and spent the night there, finding lodgings at akhan upon the outskirts of the place, of which the yard was shaded bya fine old carob tree. While we were having breakfast the next morningin a kind of gallery which looked into the branches of that tree, andthrough them and a ruined archway to the road, crowded just then withpeasants in grey clothing coming in to market, Suleymân proposed thathe and I should go and call upon the Caïmmacâm, the local Governor. Ihad spent a wretched night. The place was noisy and malodorous. My onedesire was to be gone as soon as possible, and so I answered:

'I will call on no one. My only wish to see him was upon account ofthat old rogue who ran away from us. '

'The man was certainly ungrateful--curse his father!' said Rashîd. 

'The man is to be pitied, being ignorant, ' said Suleymân. 'His oneidea was to defend his house and land by combat. He did not perceivethat by the course of law and influence he might defend them moreeffectually, and for ever. He probably did not imagine that yourHonour would yourself approach the Governor and plead with him. '

'I shall see nobody, ' I answered crossly. 'We return at once. '

'Good, ' said Rashîd. 'I get the horses ready. '

'And yet, ' said our preceptor thoughtfully, 'his Excellency is, theysay, a charming man; and this would be a golden opportunity for us toget acquainted with him and bespeak his favour. Thus the Sheykh Yûsuf, though himself contemptible, may be of service to us. Already I havetold the people here that we have come on an important errand to theGovernor. Rashîd, too, as I know, has spoken of the matter in aboastful way. If, after that, we should depart in dudgeon withoutseeing him, there would be gossip and perhaps--God knows--evenpolitical disturbance. The Governor, coming to hear of it, mightreasonably feel aggrieved. '

He argued so ridiculously, yet so gravely, that in the end I wasobliged to yield. And so, a little before ten o'clock, we saunteredthrough the narrow streets to the Government offices--a red-roofed, whitewashed building near which soldiers loitered, in a dusty square. 

There we waited for a long while in an ante-room--spacious, but ratherdingy, with cushionless divans around the walls, on which a strangevariety of suitors sat or squatted. Some of these appeared so poorthat I admired their boldness in demanding audience of the Governor. Yet it was one of the most wretched in appearance who was called firstby the turbaned, black-robed usher. He passed into an inner room: thedoor was shut. 

Then Suleymân went over to the usher, who kept guard upon that door, and held a whispered conversation with him. I know not what he said;but, when the wretched-looking man came out again, the usher slippedinto the inner room with reverence and, presently returning, bowed tous and bade us enter. I went in, followed by Suleymân, who swelledand strutted like a pouter pigeon in his flowing robes. 

The Caïmmacâm was a nice-looking Turk of middle-age, extremely neat inhis apparel and methodical in his surroundings. He might have been anEnglishman but for the crimson fez upon his brow and a chaplet of redbeads, with which he toyed perpetually. He gazed into my eyes withkind inquiry. I told him that I came with tidings of a gravedisturbance in his district, and then left Suleymân to tell the storyof Sheykh Yûsuf and his neighbours and the battle we had witnessed inthe olive grove before his house. 

Suleymân exhausted all his powers of language and of wit, making averitable poem of the episode. The Governor did not appear profoundlyinterested. 

'Sheykh Yûsuf! Who is he?' he asked at the conclusion of the tale. 

I explained that the Sheykh Yûsuf was a landowner, whose acquaintancewe had made through my desire to buy some property. 

'Your Honour thinks of settling here among us?' cried his Excellency, with sudden zest, appearing quite enraptured with the notion. Heasked then if the French tongue was intelligible to me, and, hearingthat it was, talked long in French about my project, which seemed toplease him greatly. He said that it would be a blessing for hisdistrict to have a highly civilised, enlightened being like myselfestablished in it as the sun and centre of improvement; and what acomfort it would be to him particularly to have an educated man athand to talk to! He hoped that, when I had set up my model farm--for amodel it would be, in every way, he felt quite sure of that, from myappearance and my conversation--I would not limit my attention solelyto the work of agriculture, but would go on to improve the nativebreeds of sheep and oxen. He heard that splendid strains of both werefound in England. He wished me to import a lot of English bulls andrams, assuring me of the assistance of the Government in all that Imight do in that direction, since the Sultan ('His Imperial Majesty'he called him always) took the greatest interest in such experiments. 

All this was very far from my original design, which was to lead asfar as possible a quiet life. But I promised to give thought to allhis Excellency's counsels. 

He made me smoke two cigarettes and drink a cup of coffee which hissecretary had prepared upon a brazier in a corner of the room; andthen, with a sweet smile and deprecating gestures of the hands, hebegged me to excuse him if he closed the interview. It was a grief tohim to let me go, but he was very busy. 

I rose at once, and so did Suleymân. 

'But what of the Sheykh Yûsuf?' I exclaimed, reminding him. 

'Ah, to be sure!' rejoined the Governor with a slight frown. 'Of whatreligion is he?'

'I suppose a Druze. '

'And the people who attacked him so unmercifully?'

'Are Druzes too. '

'Ah, then, it is all in the family, as the saying goes. And, unlesssome deputation from the Druze community appeals to me, I should beill-advised to interfere in its affairs. Our way of government is notidentical with that which is pursued with such conspicuous success inhighly civilised and settled countries like your own. We leave thevarious communities and tribes alone to settle their internaldifferences. It is only where tribe wars on tribe, religion onreligion, or their quarrels stop the traffic on the Sultan's highwaythat we intervene. What would you have, mon ami? We are here in Asia!'

With these words, and a smile of quite ineffable indulgence for myyoung illusions, his Excellency bowed me out. 

In the ante-room Suleymân drew close to my left ear and whisperedsharply:

'Give me four mejîdis. '

'Whatever for?' I asked in deep amazement. 

'That I will tell you afterwards. The need is instant. '

I produced the four mejîdis from a trouser-pocket, and, receivingthem, he went back to the door by which the usher stood, and whisperedto the man, who went inside a moment and came back with the privatesecretary of the Caïmmacâm. The compliments which passed between themseemed to me interminable. 

I paced the pavement of the waiting-room, the only figure in the crowdwhose attitude bespoke impatience. The others sat or squatted roundthe walls in perfect resignation, some of them smoking, othersmunching nuts of various kinds, of which the shells began to hide thefloor adjacent to them. A few of the suppliants had even had theforethought to bring with them bags full of provisions, as ifanticipating that their time of waiting might endure for several days. 

At last, when I was growing really angry with him, Suleymân returnedand told me:

'All is well, and we can now be going, if your Honour pleases. '

'I do please, ' I rejoined indignantly. 'Why have you kept me waitingall this while? I never wished to come at all into this place, andAllah knows that we have done no good by coming. We have spoilt amorning which we might have spent upon the road. '

'Allah, Allah!' sighed Suleymân long-sufferingly. 'Your Honour isextremely hard to please. Did not his Excellency talk to youexclusively, with every sign of the most lively pleasure for quitehalf an hour; whereas he scarcely deigned to throw a word to me, although I wooed his ear with language calculated to seduce the mindof kings? I have some cause to be dejected at neglect from one sopowerful; but you have every cause to be elated. He is now yourfriend. '

'I shall never see him in my life again most likely!' I objected. 

'Nay, that you cannot tell, ' replied my mentor suavely. 'To beacquainted with a person in authority is always well. '

CHAPTER XXIII

CONCERNING BRIBES

'Why did you want those four mejîdis?' I inquired severely. 

Suleymân shrugged up his shoulders and replied:

'I had to pay the proper fees, since you yourself showed not a sign ofdoing so, to save our carefully established honour and good name. '

'You don't mean that you gave them to the Caïmmacâm?'

'Allah forbid! Consider, O beloved, my position in this matter. To putit in the form of parables: Suppose a king and his vizier should pay avisit to another king and his vizier. If there were presents to bemade, I ask you, would not those intended for the king be offeredpersonally by the king, and those for the vizier by the vizier? Itwill be obvious to your Honour, upon slight reflection, that if, inour adventure of this morning, a present to the Governor wasnecessary or desirable, you personally, and no other creature, shouldhave made it. '

'Merciful Allah!' I exclaimed. 'He would have knocked me down. '

'He would have done nothing of the kind, being completely civilised. He would merely have pushed back your hand with an indulgent smile, pressing it tenderly, as who should say: "Thou art a child in thesethings, and dost not know our ways, being a stranger. " Yet, undoubtedly, upon the whole, your offer of a gift, however small, would have confirmed the good opinion which he formed at sight of you. 

'But let that pass! Out of the four mejîdis which you gave me soreluctantly (since you ask for an account) I presented one to theusher, and three to his Excellency's private secretary, in your name. And I have procured it of the secretary's kindness that he will urgehis lord to take some measures to protect that ancient malefactor, theSheykh Yûsuf. '

'If I had tipped the Governor, as you suggest that I ought to havedone, ' I interrupted vehemently, 'do you mean to say he would havetaken measures to protect Sheykh Yûsuf?'

'Nay, I say not that; but he would at least have had completeconviction that your Honour takes a lively interest in that oldchurl--a person in himself unpleasant and unworthy of a single thoughtfrom any thinking or right-minded individual. Thus, even though hescorned the money, as he would no doubt have done, the offer wouldhave told him we were earnest in our application, and he mightconceivably have taken action from desire to do a pleasure to onewhom, as I said before, he loved at sight. '

'The whole system is corrupt, ' I said, 'and what is worse, unreasonable. '

'So say the Franks, ' replied Suleymân, shrugging his shoulders up andspreading wide his hands, as though before a wall of blind stupiditywhich he knew well could never be cast down nor yet surmounted. 'Ourgovernors, our judges, and the crowd of small officials are not highlypaid, and what they do receive is paid irregularly. Then all, whetherhigh or low, must live; and it is customary in our land to offergifts to persons in authority, because a smile, God knows, is alwaysbetter than a frown from such an one. We are not like the Franks, whobarter everything, even their most sacred feelings, even love. Itgives us pleasure to make gifts, and see them welcomed, even when therecipient is someone who cannot in any way repay us for our trouble, as a Frank would say. '

'But to sell justice; for it comes to that!' I cried, indignant. 

'Who talks of selling justice? You are quite mistaken. If I have to gobefore a judge I make a gift beforehand to his Honour, whoseacceptance tells me, not that he will give a verdict in my favour--donot think it!--but merely that his mind contains no grudge against me. If he refused the gift I should be terrified, since I should think hehad been won completely by the other side. To take gifts from bothparties without preference, making allowance, when there is occasion, for the man who is too poor to give; and then to judge entirely on themerits of the case; that is the way of upright judges in an Easterncountry. The gifts we make are usually small, whereas the fees whichlawyers charge in Western countries are exorbitant, as you yourselfhave told me more than once and I have heard from others. And evenafter paying those enormous fees, the inoffensive, righteous person isas like to suffer as the guilty. Here, for altogether harmless men tosuffer punishment in place of rogues is quite unheard-of; thoughoccasionally one notorious evildoer may be punished for another'scrime when this is great and the real criminal cannot be found andthere is call for an example to be made upon the instant. Thisgenerally happens when a foreign consul interferes, demandingvengeance for some slight offence against his nationals. Things likethat take place occasionally when the court is flustered. But in itsnatural course, believe me, Turkish justice, if slow-moving, is asgood as that of Europe and infinitely less expensive than your Englishlaw. '

I made no answer, feeling quite bewildered. 

Suleymân was always serious in manner, which made it very hard to tellwhen he was joking or in earnest. Among the natives of the land, Iknew, he had the reputation of a mighty joker, but I had learnt thefact from the applause of others. I never should have guessed fromhis demeanour that he jested consciously. 

He also held his peace until we reached our hostelry. There, somehalf-hour later, when I had given orders for our horses to be readyfor a start directly after luncheon--a decision against which Suleymânprotested unsuccessfully, declaring it would be too hot for riding--Ioverheard him telling the whole story of our visit, including thedonation of the four mejîdis, to Rashîd, who was lazily engaged inpolishing my horse's withers. 

'That secretary is a man of breeding, ' he was saying, in a tone ofwarm approval; 'for I noticed he was careful to receive the present inhis left hand, which he placed behind his back in readiness, withgreat decorum. Nor did he thank me, or give any token ofacknowledgment beyond a little friendly twinkle of the eyes. '

At once I pounced on this admission, crying: 'That shows that heregarded the transaction as unlawful! And your remark upon it showsthat you, too, think it so. '

Suleymân looked slowly round until his eyes met mine, not one whitdisconcerted, though until I spoke he had not known that I wasanywhere in earshot. 

'Your Honour is incorrigible, ' he replied, with a grave smile. 'Inever knew your like for obstinacy in a false opinion; which showsthat you were born to fill some high position in the world. Of coursethey all--these fine officials, great and small--regard it as beneaththeir dignity to take a present which they sorely need. To take suchpresents greedily would be to advertise their poverty to all theworld. And Government appointments swell a man with pride, if nothingelse--a pride which makes them anxious to be thought above all fear ofwant. For that cause, they are half-ashamed of taking gifts. But noone in this country thinks it wrong of them to do so, nor to obligethe giver, if they can, in little ways. It would be wrong if theybetrayed the trust reposed in them by their superiors, or were seducedinto some act against their loyalty or their religion. But that, praise be to God, you will not find. It is only in small matters suchas acts of commerce or politeness, which hardly come within the sphereof a man's conscience, that they are procurable, and no one in thiscountry thinks the worse of them, whatever people say to you, aforeigner, by way of flattery. It is very difficult for foreigners tolearn the truth. Your Honour should be thankful that you have Suleymânfor an instructor--and Rashîd, too, ' he added as an after-thought, seeing that my bodyservant stood close by, expecting mention. 

And after more than twenty years' experience of Eastern matters, Iknow now that he was right. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BATTLEFIELD

Our road, the merest bridle-path, which sometimes altogetherdisappeared and had to be retrieved by guesswork, meandered on theside of a ravine, down in the depths of which, in groves of oleander, there flowed a stream of which we caught the murmur. The forest wascontinuous on our side of the wadi. It consisted of dense olive grovesaround the villages and a much thinner growth of ilex in the tractsbetween. The shade was pleasant in the daytime, but as night came onits gloom oppressed our spirits with extreme concern, for we werestill a long way off our destination, and uncertain of the way. 

The gloom increased. From open places here and there we saw the stars, but gloom filled the ravine, and there was little difference betweenthe darkness underneath the trees and that outside in open spaces ofthe grove. We trusted to our horses to make out the path, whichsometimes ran along the verge of precipices. 

I cannot say that I was happy in my mind. Rashîd made matters worse bydwelling on the risks we ran not only from abandoned men but ghoulsand jinnis. The lugubrious call of a hyæna in the distance moved himto remark that ghouls assume that shape at night to murder travellers. They come up close and rub against them like a loving cat; whichcontact robs the victims of their intellect, and causes them to followthe hyæna to its den, where the ghoul kills them and inters theirbodies till the flesh is ripe. 

He next expressed a fear lest we might come upon some ruin lighted up, and be deceived into supposing it a haunt of men, as had happened to aworthy cousin of his own when on a journey. This individual, whosename was Ali, had been transported in the twinkling of an eye byjinnis, from somewhere in the neighbourhood of Hamá to the wilds ofJebel Câf (Mount Caucasus), and had escaped a hideous and painfuldeath only by recollection of the name of God. He told me, too, howhe himself, when stationed at Mersîn, had met a company of demons, onefine evening in returning from an errand; and other tales which causedmy flesh to creep. 

The groves receded. We were in an open place where only a low kind ofbrushwood grew, when suddenly my horse shied, gave a fearful snort, and sturdily refused to budge another inch. I let him stand untilRashîd came up. He thought to pass me, but his horse refused as minehad done. 

'It is no doubt some jinni in the way, ' he whispered in a frightenedtone; then, calling out: 'Dastûr, ya mubârak' (Permission, blessedone!), he tried to urge his horse, which still demurred. So there wewere, arrested by some unseen hand; and this became the moreunpleasant because a pestilential smell was in the place. 

'Better return!' muttered Rashîd, with chattering teeth. 

'Give me a match!' I said distractedly. 'My box is empty. '

'Better return!' he pleaded. 

'A match, do you hear?' I cried, made cross by terror. 

He gave the match, and I believe I shouted as I struck it. For a briefspace it made a dazzle in my eyes, preventing me from seeing anything, and then went out. 

'There is something lying in the path!' Rashîd was gibbering. 

I got down off my horse and lit a second match, which I took care toshelter till the flame was strong. A human arm lay in the path beforeus. 

My horror was extreme, and grew uncanny when the match expired. Butthe ghastly object had restored his courage to Rashîd, who evenlaughed aloud as he exclaimed:

'The praise to Allah! It is nothing which can hurt us. No doubt somemurder has been here committed, all unknown. The Lord have mercy onthe owner of that arm! We will report the matter to some high officialat our journey's end. '

We turned our horses to the right and made a long detour, but scarcelyhad they found the path again when mine (which led the way) demurredonce more. 

'Another piece, ' exclaimed Rashîd excitedly. He got down off hishorse to look. 'Nay, many pieces. This, by Allah, is no other than abattlefield unknown to fame. '

'How can a battle take place without public knowledge?' I inquired, incredulous. 

'The thing may happen when two factions quarrel for unlawful cause--itmay be over stolen gains, or for some deadly wrong which cannot beavowed without dishonour--and when each side exterminates the other. '

'How can that happen?' I exclaimed again. 

Rashîd could not at once reply, because in our avoidance of thosehuman relics we found ourselves on broken ground and among trunks oftrees, which called for the address of all our wits. But when thehorses once more plodded steadily, he assured me that the thing couldhappen, and had happened often in that country, where men's blood ishot. He told me how a band of brigands once, in Anti-Lebanon, hadfought over their spoils till the majority on both sides had beenslain, and the survivors were so badly wounded that they could notmove, but lay and died upon the battlefield; and how the people of twovillages, both men and women, being mad with envy, had held a battlewith the same result. I interrupted him with questions. Both of uswere glad to talk in order to get rid of the remembrance of our formerfear. We gave the rein to our imaginations, speaking eagerly. 

Reverting to the severed limbs which we had seen, Rashîd exclaimed:

'Now I will tell your Honour how it happened. A deadly insult had beenoffered to a family in a young girl's dishonour. Her father and herbrothers killed her to wipe out the shame--as is the custom here amongthe fellâhîn--and then with all their relatives waylaid the men of theinsulter's house when these were cutting wood here in the forest. There was a furious battle, lasting many hours. The combatants foughthand-to-hand with rustic weapons, and in some cases tore each otherlimb from limb. When all was done, the victors were themselves sosorely wounded that they were able to do nothing but lie down anddie. '

'How many do you think there were?' I asked, believing. 

'To judge by scent alone, not one or two; but, Allah knows, perhaps ahundred!' said Rashîd reflectively. 

'It is strange they should have lain there undiscovered. '

'Not strange, when one remembers that the spot is far from any villageand probably as far from the right road, ' was his reply. 

This last conjecture was disquieting; but we were both too muchexcited for anxiety. 

'It is an event to be set down in histories, ' Rashîd exclaimed. 'Weshall be famous people when we reach the village. Such news is heardbut once in every hundred years. '

'I wish that we could reach that village, ' was my answer; and again wefell to picturing the strange event. 

At length we heard the barking of a dog in the far distance, and gavepraise to Allah. A half-hour later we saw lights ahead of us. But thatdid not mean that the village was awake, Rashîd explained to me, foramong the people of that country 'to sleep without a light' is to bedestitute. A little later, Rashîd hammered at a door, while savagedogs bayed round us, making rushes at his heels. 

'Awake, O sons of honour!' was his cry. 'A great calamity!' And, whenthe door was opened, he detailed the story of an awful fight, in whichboth parties of belligerents had been exterminated. 'They are tornlimb from limb. We saw the relics, ' he explained. 'If you have anydoubt, question my lord who is out here behind me--a great one of theEnglish, famed for his veracity. '

And I was ready to confirm each word he said. 

In a very little while that village was astir. 

It was the seat of a mudîr who had two soldiers at his beck and call. The great man was aroused from sleep; he questioned us, and, as theresult of the inquiry, sent the soldiers with us to survey thebattlefield. A crowd of peasants, armed with quarter-staves andcarrying lanterns, came with the party out of curiosity. Our horseshaving had enough of travel, we went back on foot amid the noisycrowd, who questioned us incessantly about the strange event. Themurmur of our going filled the wood and echoed from the rocks above. By the time we reached the place where we had seen the human limbs, the dawn was up, to make our lanterns useless. 

Rashîd and I were certain of the spot. We came upon it with a thrillof apprehension. 

But there was nothing there. 

'I seek refuge in Allah!' gasped Rashîd in pious awe. 'I swear by mysalvation it was here we saw them. The name of God be round about us!It is devilry. '

Our escort was divided in opinion, some thinking we had been indeedthe sport of devils, others that we lied. But someone sniffed andsaid:

'There is a smell of death. '

There was no doubt about the smell at any rate. Then one of themudîr's two soldiers, searching in the brushwood, cried: 'I have theremnant of an arm. '

And then an old man of the village smote his leg and cried:

'O my friends, I see it! Here is neither lies nor devilry. '

Laughing, he seized me by the arm and bade me come with him. We went alittle way into the wood, and there he showed me three Druze tombsdeep in the shade of ilex trees--small buildings made of stone andmud, like little houses, each with an opening level with the ground, and a much smaller opening, like a window, at the height of a man'selbow. 

'Thou seest?' cried my tutor. 'Those are graves. The openings on theground were made too large, and jackals have got in and pulled thebodies out. The men who made those graves are foolish people, who havewandered from the truth. They think the spirits of the dead have needof food and light, and also of a hole for crawling in and out. I heardthee ask thy servant for a match just now. Come, I will show theewhere to find one always. '

He led me to the nearest tomb, and thrust my hand into the little holewhich served as window. It touched a heap of matches which he bade metake and put into my pocket, saying:

'It is not a theft, for the matches have been thrown away, as youmight say. Those foolish people will suppose the dead have struckthem. They used to put wax candles and tinder-boxes with them in theniches, but when these sulphur matches came in fashion, theypreferred them for economy. When I am working in this wood I take nofire with me, being quite sure to find the means of lighting one. Praise be to Allah for some people's folly!'

I thanked him for the wrinkle, and went back to join Rashîd, who wasexclaiming with the others over our deception. But everyone agreedthat the mistake was natural for men bewildered in the darkness of thenight. 

CHAPTER XXV

MURDERERS

Rashîd and I were riding down to Tripoli, and had long been lookingfor a certain 'kheymah' or refreshment booth beside the road, which anenterprising Christian of that town had opened in the summer monthsfor the relief of travellers. When at length we came in sight of it, we saw a crowd of men reposing on the ground before its awning. Wesoon lost sight of them again in a ravine, and it was not till we wereclose upon them, climbing up the other bank, that I remarked that mostof them were shackled and in charge of a small guard of Turkishsoldiers. 

'Criminals upon their way to the hard labour prison, ' said Rashîd. 

'What have they done?' I asked, as we dismounted. 

He strolled across and put a question to their escort, then returnedand told me:

'They are murderers. '

After that information it surprised me, while we ate our luncheon, toobserve their open faces, and to hear them laugh and chatter withtheir guards. Already I had learnt that crime in Eastern countries isnot regarded altogether as it is with us; that Orientals do not knowthat shrinking from contamination which marks the Englishman'sbehaviour towards a breaker of his country's law. But I was unpreparedfor this indulgence towards a gang of murderers. It interested me;and, seeing that Rashîd was talking with them in a friendly way, Igathered there was nothing to be feared from their proximity, andmyself drew near when I had finished eating, and gave them cigarettes. They thanked me loudly. The smile of pleasure on each face expressed achildlike innocence. One only sat apart in gloom, conforming in somemeasure to my preconceived idea of what a murderer upon his way toprison ought to look like. I noticed with surprise that this one woreno chain. I went and touched him on the shoulder. It was only thenthat he looked up and saw that I was wishing him to take a cigarette. He did so quickly, and saluted me without a word. 

One of the others said in tender tones:

'Blame him not, O my lord, for he is mad with sorrow. He is moreluckless than the rest of us--may Allah help him! He killed the personhe loved best on earth--his only brother. '

'Then it is true that you are murderers?' I asked, stillhalf-incredulous. 

'By Allah, it is true, alas! and we are paying for it by a year'senslavement. '

'A year! No more than that, ' I cried, 'for killing men?'

'And is it not enough, O lord of kindness? It is not as if we hadkilled men from malice or desire of gain. We killed in sudden anger, or, in the case of three among us, in a faction-fight. It is fromAllah; and we ask forgiveness. '

'How did that man kill?' I questioned, pointing to the apatheticfigure of the fratricide, which attracted my imagination by itsloneliness. 

'He suffered persecutions from a rich man of his village, who was hisrival for the favour of a certain girl--so it is said. Thosepersecutions maddened him at times. One day when he was mad likethat, his brother came to him and spoke some word of blame uponanother matter. He killed him, as he might have killed his wife andchildren or himself, being in that state of mind devoid of reason. When he awoke and saw what he had done, he wished to kill himself. '

'It is from Allah! His remorse is punishment, ' exclaimed Rashîd. 'Whyshould he go to prison? He has had enough. '

'Nobody of this country would have thought of punishment for him, 'replied the spokesman of the murderers, with rueful smile. 'But hisbrother was the servant of a foreign merchant--a Greek from overseas, I think it was--who put the business in his Consul's hands, andso----' The speaker clicked his thumbnail on his white front teeth tosignify finality. 'But the poor man himself does not object; it seemsindeed that he is glad to go with us. Perhaps by labour and harshtreatment he may be relieved. '

As there were still provisions in our saddle-bags, Rashîd, by mycommand, divided them among the company, the soldiers and themurderers alike, who were delighted. It was a merry party which weleft behind, with the exception of the fratricide, who ate the food, when it was set before him, ravenously, but said not a word. 

'May Allah heal him!' sighed the other murderers. 'Our Lord removethis shadow from his mind!'

Rashîd and I pursued our way on an interminable path meandering inzig-zags down through brushwood, which smelt sweet of myrtle and wildincense. I tried to make him understand that he had quite misled me bythe term he had applied to men who had been guilty of no more thanmanslaughter. The distinction had to be explained with muchperiphrasis, because the Arabic word 'Câtil' means a slayer, and isgiven indiscriminately to all who kill. 

He caught my meaning sooner than I had expected. 

'Ah!' he said. 'Your Honour thought from what I said that they were"cutters of the road, "[7] or hired assassins, who kill men for gain. Those are the greater criminals, whose punishment is death. Few suchexist among us. Here a robber will seldom kill a man unless that mankills him. ' [I translate literally] 'when it is just retaliation; andas for hired assassins, I have known several of them in my time, andthey are not bad people, but unfortunate, having fallen early in thepower of cruel and ambitious men. Most of the killing in this countryis done without a thought, in anger or mad jealousy. '

'Is it for man to judge them?' he exclaimed, with a high shrug, when Iremarked upon their friendly treatment by the Turkish guards. 'Theyare punished by authority down here, so we are better; but afterwards, when comes the Judgment of the Lord, we may be worse. It is hard uponthose men we met just now. They go to prison, most of them, becausethey were not rich enough to pay the sum demanded as the price ofblood. For men of wealth, or who have rich relations, it is easy tocompound the matter for a sum of money, in return for which the deadman's relatives regard his death as due to natural causes, andforswear revenge. It is hard, I say, upon those men we met just now;and especially upon the man who slew his brother--may Our Lord consolehim!'

A few days later I was strolling in the town and happened to pass bythe public gaol. In the middle of the gate, behind some iron bars, awretched man stood shaking a tin can, in which some small coinsrattled, and calling on the passers-by for alms for the poorprisoners. A little group of English tourists--a gentleman and twofair ladies--came that way, led on by a resplendent dragoman. Theystared at the wild figure at the prison gate. 

'You like to give a trifle to the brisoners?' inquired the guide. 

'What are they in for?' asked the gentleman. 

'Murders, I guess, mostly, ' shrugged the dragoman. 

'Certainly not, ' replied the gentleman, with indignation. 

I ventured to approach and tell him that they were not murderers inour sense of the word, and that they depended for a bare subsistenceupon public charity. The only thanks I got were a cold stare from theman, a fastidious grimace from the two ladies, and an 'Oh, indeed!'so arrogant in tone that I retired discomfited. My ill-success may beattributable to the fact that I was wearing a 'kufiyeh' and 'acâl' andso appeared to them as what is called a 'native. '

I myself have always, since that day, felt it my duty to give alms tomurderers in Eastern lands. 

FOOTNOTES:

[7] _i. E. _, Highwaymen. 

CHAPTER XXVI

THE TREES ON THE LAND

My search for an estate provided us with an excuse for visiting allsorts of out-of-the-way places, and scraping acquaintance with allsorts of curious people. In some villages we were greeted withunbounded glee; in others with a sullen, gruff endurance far fromwelcome. But, though the flavour of reception varied, we wereeverywhere received with some degree of hospitality, and shown what wedesired to see. Thus we surveyed a great variety of properties, noneof which fulfilled my chief requirements. I wanted both a house inwhich I should not feel ashamed to live, and cultivable land enough toyield a revenue; and the two together seemed impossible to find, atleast for the sum of money which was placed at my disposal. 

One piece of land attracted us so much that we remained in theadjacent village a full week, returning every day to wander over it, trying to see if it could not be made to fit my needs. It consistedof a grove of fine old olive trees, with terraces of fig and mulberrytrees and vegetables, spread out to catch the morning sun upon amountain side sloping to a wooded valley walled by rocky heights. Water was there in plenty, but no house to speak of; the three small, cube-shaped houses on the property being in the occupation (whichamounts to ownership) of workers of the land, who, according to thecustom of the country, would become my partners. Upon the other hand, the land was fairly cheap, and after paying for it, I should have abalance with which I might begin to build a proper house; for, asSuleymân remarked, 'here all things are done gradually. No one willexpect to see a palace all at once. Begin with two rooms and a stable, and add a fresh room every time that you have forty pounds to spare. '

The price of building appeared fixed in all that countryside at fortypounds a vault, which in ordinary buildings means a room, since everyroom is vaulted. 

The trouble was to see just where to put the house withoutencroaching upon profitable land. At last I hit on a position in themiddle of the highest terrace on which grew olive trees so very oldthat they could well be sacrificed. Having arrived at this decision Isat down among those trees and gazed in rapture at the view across thevalley. It was indeed a grand position for a house. 

Rashîd exclaimed: 'Our dwelling will be seen afar. The traveller ondistant roads will see its windows flashing, and will certainlyinquire the owner's name. Yet would I rather it had faced the eveningsun, because more people are abroad at sunset than at dawn. '

'The morning sun is better for the growth of plants, and it comportsthe evening shadow, which is most agreeable, ' murmured Suleymân, whostretched his length upon the ground before us, chewing a flower-stemwith an air of wisdom. 

As we were there conversing lazily, one of the peasant-partners in theland came through the trees, bringing a tray with cups of coffee, which he had prepared for our refreshment. 

'The Lord preserve thy hands, O Câsim, ' sighed Suleymân. 'Thou comestat the very moment when my soul said "coffee. "'

The peasant Câsim beamed with pleasure at the thanks we showered onhim, and, squatting down, inquired if we had yet decided anything. 

'Aye, ' I replied. 'In sh'Allah we shall cut down these three olivetrees and put the house instead of them. '

At that his smile gave place to grave concern. 

He said: 'That may not be. '

'Why not?' I asked. 

'Because we have no right to touch these trees. '

'But the Sheykh Ali told me that this terrace was his property. '

'That is so, as to the land. The trees are different. '

'To whom, then, do these trees belong?'

'To different people. '

'How can I know which trees are ours, which theirs?'

'Your Honour need not trouble. They are able to distinguish. '

'But they must walk upon our land to reach their trees!'

'Without a doubt. '

'But it is unheard of!'

'Perhaps; but it has been the way since Noah's flood. '

'If your Honour condescends to read the Bible he will notice that, inthe bargain which our lord Abraham made for the cave of Machpelah, thetrees upon the land are mentioned separately, ' put in Suleymân, whohad a well-stored mind. 

I took no notice, but continued my alarmed inquiries. 

'How many people own these trees?'

'Twenty or thirty. '

'And they trample on our land?'

'The case is so. '

'Who is their chief?'

'I know not; but the largest share, they say, is vested in Muhammadabu Hasan. His share of all the trees is twelve kîrâts, as much as allthe others put together. They say so. Only Allah knows the truth!'

'I should like to speak to this Muhammad abu Hasan. '

'Upon my head; I go to fetch him, ' answered Câsim, touching his browin token of obedience. 

When he was gone, Suleymân observed significantly:

'Have naught to do with all these fathers of kîrâts. When once theword "kîrât" is mentioned, flee the place, for you may be assured thatit is the abode of all bedevilment. When once a man is father of butone or two kîrâts, he has the power of forty thousand for unreasoningannoyance. '

'And what, in mercy's name, is a kîrât?' I questioned. 

'A kîrât, ' replied Rashîd, as usual eager to explain, 'is that terminto which all things visible and invisible are resolved andsubdivided secretly, or may be subdivided at a person's pleasure. Akîrât is that which has no real existence unless a group of men agreetogether saying: "It is here or there. " A kîrât----'

Suleymân cut short his explanation, saying simply: 'A kîrât is thetwenty-fourth part of anything. If my soul is sick, I ask the doctor:"How many kîrâts of hope?" and according to his answer "four" or"twenty" I feel gladness or despair. To own but one kîrât, in thisconcern of property, is sometimes better than to own all the remainingthree-and-twenty, as witness the affair of Johha, the greatestwiseacre this country has produced. Johha owned a house, consisting ofa single room. Wishing to make a little money, he let his house topeople for a yearly rent (which they paid in advance), reserving tohimself the use of only one kîrât of it. To show where his kîrât wassituated Johha drove a peg into the wall inside. After the tenants hadbeen in a week he brought a bag of beans and hung it on his peg. Noone objected; he was exercising his free right. A few days later heremoved the bag of beans and hung up garlic in its place. Again a fewdays and he came with an old cat which had been some time dead; and soon, bringing ever more offensive things, until the tenants wereobliged to leave the house and forfeit their year's rent, withoutredress, since Johha was within his rights. Therefore I say to you, beware. These fathers of kîrâts will spoil the property. '

Rashîd gave an appreciative chuckle, and was going to relate somestory of his own; but just then Câsim reappeared, attended not by oneman only but a score of men--the owners of the trees, as itimmediately appeared, for they cried out, as they came up, that itwould be a sin for us to cut them down. 

I asked them to elect a spokesman, as I could not deal with all atonce, and Muhammad abu Hasan was pushed forward. He squatted, facingme, upon the ground, his men behind him. The twigs and leaves ofolives overhead spread a filigree of moving shade upon their puckeredfaces. They were evidently much perturbed in mind. 

I asked them for how much they would consent to sell thosetrees--showing the three I wished to fell to clear a space forbuilding. 

'The freehold, meanest thou?' inquired their spokesman anxiously. 'Notfor five hundred pounds. But we would sell a share. '

'I want no share. I want to cut them down. '

At that there was a general outcry that it must not be. 

'The trees would remain yours until the end, ' I told them, 'for Iwould let you have the wood for your own purposes, and, in addition, you would have a pretty sum of money. '

There ensued a long and whispered consultation before Muhammad abuHasan answered me. At length he said:

'It may not be. Behold, we all are the descendants of one man whoowned these trees in ancient days. But we are not brothers, nor yetuncles' children, and there is jealousy among us. We quarrel near tofighting every year about the produce of these trees, each manperceiving that he has been cheated of his proper share. But that isnot so very serious, for each man hopes that next year he will get alarger share in compensation. Suppose, instead of trees which bearfruit every year, we had a sum of money. In that case the divisionwould admit of no redress, and those who thought themselves defraudedwould bear lifelong malice. Therefore I say: We will not have thosetrees cut down; but we are prepared, upon the other hand, to sell youall our trees upon this terrace if you, on your side, will assign tous but two kîrâts of all your trees, these trees included. '

'Allah destroy the dwelling of your two kîrâts, ' I cried out angrily. 'I will have none of them. Nor will I make my dwelling in theneighbourhood of men so foolish. I shall seek elsewhere. '

The peasants chuckled at my curse on the kîrâts. They murmured anapology, but seemed relieved, as they went off. 

Suleymân, who had to leave us on the following day, then gave me goodadvice. 

He said: 'It is no use for thee to deal with little people who wish tomake the most of their small lands, who have mean, dirty houses. Thouhast a friend among the great sheykhs of the Drûz. Go to him in hiscastle and explain thy wish. He owns a score of noble houses which hedoes not use, and for the love of thee he will not count the price tooclosely. Moreover, he will think that, showing favour to anEnglishman, he will earn the good opinion of the British Government. He has political ambitions. All great men are fools or malefactors. '

'That is the best of counsel, ' said Rashîd. And, having nothing elsein mind, we acted on it. 

CHAPTER XXVII

BUYING A HOUSE

Even great men in the East rise early; so, when I arrived before thecastle of the great Druze chief at six o'clock of a summer's morning, I was not surprised to find a crowd of black-cloaked andwhite-turbaned mountaineers already waiting for an audience of hisgrace; nor yet, when I had gained admittance as a favoured person, tofind the chief himself afoot and wide awake. What did surprise me wasto see him clad in Stambûli frock-coat and all its stiffaccompaniments at an hour when even the most civilised of Pashas stillwears native dress. He heard of my desire to settle in his countrywith surprise and seeming pleasure, and made me sit beside him on asofa in an upper chamber of magnificent proportions--spoilt, to mytaste, by gaudy Frankish furniture and certain oleographs of thecrowned heads of Europe which adorned its walls. 

He thought, as is the way of Orientals, visibly, with finger pressedto brow. Then he exclaimed:

'I have a house close by, across the glen--a little ruinous, perhaps, but we can soon repair it. Come to the window; you can see the placefrom here. ' He pointed out a kind of thickset tower which crowned apretty village set in orchards. 'If you care to see it we will gothere when I have received my people. '

He invited me to go with him to the reception; but, having seen thecrowd outside, I thought it wisdom to go back rather to the villagekhan where I had left my horse, to warn Rashîd to have things readyfor a start, and get some breakfast. 

I returned in two hours' time, to find the chief already mounted on asplendid charger, led by a no less splendid servant, setting forth insearch of me, 'with half the world for tail, ' as Rashîd put it. 

It was in truth a long procession which meandered down the steep androcky pathway, deep in the shade of walls and overhanging trees, tothe ravine, forded the stream, and climbed the other bank. 

The village, when we reached it, was in great commotion, all itspeople crowding to the wide meydân, or levelled ground forhorsemanship, spread out before the house which might be mine. In themidst of this meydân there was a fine old carob tree, with a stonebench all round the foot of its enormous trunk. 

The house itself was an old fortress, built of solid stone, with arrowslits as well as modern windows, and an arched doorway at the top ofwide stone steps. Against it nestled lesser houses of the villagewhich seemed to climb up towards it for protection. 

Some men of consequence came forth to greet the chief, who thendismounted with their servile aid. He introduced me to a turbanedDruze of reverend appearance, who (he said) at present occupied thehouse, and also to the son of the said turbaned Druze, who knew alittle French and longed to air it. 

The turbaned one, whose name was Sheykh Huseyn, was called on torefresh his chieftain's memory with regard to various details of thehouse and property and all the feudal rights and privilegesappertaining thereunto. He did so, as in duty bound, but in a verymournful tone. 

His son explained: Tu fiens habiter, nous defons quitter. Mon bèren'aime bas quitter. Très bon marché'--from which I guessed that theyhad occupied the house rent-free till they had come to look upon it astheir own. 

Leaving aside the land, which we should visit presently, the owner ofthe house, I was informed, had jurisdiction over the meydân, which wasin times of peace the village square, and owned one-fifth part of thegreat tree in its midst. He also owned a fifth of all the waterflowing or to flow from the great village spring; and had the right tocall upon the fellâhîn for one day's work a year in return for hisprotection of their land from enemies. When I inquired by what means Icould possibly secure my fifth share of the water from the spring, thechief informed me that the stipulation was in case the sourcediminished in dry seasons, which, thank the Lord, it never yet haddone. 

We viewed the house, and I was pleased with the great vaulted rooms, in which the pots and pans and bedding of the Sheykh Huseyn appearedlike nothing, and the women of the family of Sheykh Huseyn, close-veiled against our inroad, made themselves exceeding small; andthen, remounting, we went off to view the land. This was scattered allabout the mountain side--a terrace here, a terrace there. It took us along while to see the whole of it. 

The chief, fatigued, alighted and sat down beneath some walnut trees. He ordered Sheykh Huseyn to cause refreshments to appear. The lattershouted, and a dozen villagers went tearing off. In a very little timea meal of honeyed cakes and fruit was set before us, and the ceremonyof making coffee was in progress on a brazier near us in the shade. 

'Allah! Allah!' sighed the Sheykh Huseyn, telling his beads. 

'Mon bère est triste, tu vois. Il aime bas quitter, ' murmured hishopeful son in tones of high delight, the feeling proper to expressbefore a new acquaintance of my quality. 

'Curse the religion of these flies! It is extremely hot!' exclaimedthe chief in momentary irritation. 

The trees went with the land without exception, I was glad to hear. One-fifth of all the produce of that land of any kind whatever wouldbe mine, the rest belonging to the husbandmen by immemorial right. There was never such a thing as wages for the cultivation of the land. 

The Sheykh Huseyn implored us to return to luncheon at his house, protesting that he had commanded a great feast to be prepared; but thechief declared we were too busy to allow ourselves that pleasure. Aswe were then some way below the village, we did not go back thither, but rode off along a path through orchards till we found the road tothe ravine. 

At taking leave, the eyes of Sheykh Huseyn met mine a moment. Theywere large, benevolent, brown eyes, and they expressed much inwardsorrow, while on his lips there broke the smile demanded ofpoliteness. 

'Au refoir, mon cher! Au blaisir!' cried his hopeful son. 

Rashîd came up behind me as we rode along, and poured into my ear awondrous tale of how the Sheykh Huseyn was our ill-wisher and woulddo his best to make things lively for us if we took the place. He hadconversed with people of the village while we viewed the house. 

'But the majority are in our favour, ' he assured me, with gravesatisfaction. 'They do not love the Sheykh Huseyn, who is a miser anda hypocrite. They say, please God, we shall humiliate him to the verydepth of shame. '

He spoke as if we were at war, and within sight of victory, as if wewere already settled in the place. And I was glad, because it auguredwell for my content if I should buy the place, which I was nowresolved to do if I could anyhow afford it. 

'The price will be too great, I fear, ' was my reply; whereat hesighed, observing that the place was of a nature to exalt our honour. 

Returning to the castle of the chieftain, I was ushered to his privatechamber, where I broached at once the burning question of the price. He said: 'God knows I wish to give thee house and land since thoudesirest them. But I have a mortgage on some other lands of mine whichvexes me, because, though I can find the interest--which isexorbitant--each year, I cannot in this country lay my hands upon theprincipal. Discharge that debt for me and, God reward thee, take thehouse and land. '

He named a sum of money. I could not believe my ears, it was so littleas compared with what I judged to be the value of the property. It waswell within the sum at my disposal. I wished to write a cheque outthere and then; but he forbade me, saying: 'Allah knows I might mislaythe paper or destroy it in a moment of forgetfulness. Do thou inkindness pay my creditor and bring me the discharge. '

He named an Armenian gentleman of my acquaintance--an amiable, learnedman of modest means, the last person in the country whom I should havethought a usurer. Nor was he one habitually, for he himself informedme that this loan to the Druze chieftain was his sole investment ofthe kind. I called on him one afternoon in the city, and handed him mycheque, explaining how the matter stood. 

'You do me a bad turn. Unlucky day!' he sighed as he received it. 'Mylittle fortune was more safe with him than in a bank, and every yearit brought me in a pretty income. Where can I find another suchinvestment. '

With groans he wrote out the receipt, which in due time I carried tothe chief, who thanked me and assured me that the house was mine andshould be made so formally. 

I then rode over to the house again, and with Rashîd planned out thechanges we desired to make, the Sheykh Huseyn following us aboutgloomily, and his cheerful son bestowing on us his advice in brokenFrench. They knew their tenancy was at an end. The Sheykh, resigned atlength to the inevitable, sought to establish good relations with me;and he also gave us counsel, which Rashîd, who viewed him as ourdeadly foe, at once rejected. Under these rebuffs the old man becamequite obsequious. 

His son exclaimed excitedly: 'Mon bère est heureux, tu vois. If feutbas quitter. Il feut rester afec toi comme chef de serfice. '

CHAPTER XXVIII

A DISAPPOINTMENT

Considering that I had bought a house and land exactly to my taste, and likely, as Rashîd declared, to raise our honour in the country, Ifelt that I had earned the right to take a holiday. Whenever I havedone anything decisive it is my instinct to withdraw myself a littlefrom the scene of action and inure myself by contemplation to the newposition of affairs. Accordingly, having surveyed the house and landas owner, I set off with Rashîd upon a ten days' journey beyond thereach of telegrams and letters. 

At the end of the ten days we rode into Beyrout, and put up at alittle hostelry, which we frequented, built out on piers above thesea. There I found two letters waiting for me, one from the greatDruze chief who sold to me my house and land. 

'Never, ' he wrote, 'have I had to endure such disrespect andignominy. It is not at all what I expected from your friendship. Inobedience to the Consul's order, I wrote express to the Khawâjah ----, my creditor, informing him that there had been some error andentreating him to send your cheque in to the British Consulate. I hopeto God you have received it safely before this. My health has sufferedfrom this huge indignity. I shall not long survive this cruel shame. '

The second letter was from Her Britannic Majesty's Consul-General, enclosing my cheque written to the order of the Armenian gentleman forthe amount of the mortgage which he held upon my Druze friend'sproperty, and adjuring me to pay a visit to the Consulate withoutdelay. 

I went that afternoon. The outer office was crowded with the usual setof English and would-be English persons who went there for gossip. Myappearance called forth more or less derisive shouts. I was a niceyoung man to go and buy a village--from a native, too!--without theforethought to secure a title to the property! It was plain that theyknew more about the matter than I did myself. I felt ashamed, andmust have looked dejected, I suppose, for they changed their tone forone more genial, crying: 'Cheer up, man! We've all been through it. You know now what these devils really are. They'll always do you, ifthey can. It's no shame to you at your age. They're so devilishclever. '

I did not know then, nor do I know to-day, that I had ever beendefrauded seriously, or deceived, by any native of the country, butthe legend ran, and doubtless runs, to that effect. 

Then I was called into the Consul's presence and strongly blamed byhim for running off just at the moment when my presence was mostneeded. I had written joyously to tell him of my purchase. I now heardthat I should have waited for his reply before concluding it. A mandoes not buy tracts of land like that, I was severely told. And as Iwas so very young and (he implied it) idiotic, he had intervened tostop the sale, pending inquiries and the discharge of certainformalities which were legally required. If the seller went into thecourt and had the transfer registered and a proper deed of sale madeout, then well and good; but he understood that there was someobjection on the seller's part. If not, then he advised me to give upthe whole idea. Profoundly conscious of my youth, and mindful of pastkindness on the Consul's part, I was, of course, impressed. I thoughtI had indeed been foolish, even mad; and promised to do all that herequired of me. As I went through the outer office, looking more thanever downcast, I was hailed with further adjurations to cheer up, forthey had all been through it. 

Rashîd was more depressed than even I was when I told him of thesudden downfall of our hopes. He cursed the Consul and the Druzesindiscriminately. But on our journey up into the mountains hisreconstructive mind transfigured my misfortunes, making of them anevent well calculated to 'exalt our honour. ' So great was myconsideration in my native country that the Queen herself had writtento the Consul-General to take care of me and see that I was notdefrauded when I bought my land. The Consul, who had been neglectfulof me, and knew nothing of the land I wished to buy, had been afraidof the Queen's anger, hence his mad activity. I did not hear thatversion at the time, nor from Rashîd's own lips; but it came to myears eventually, after its vogue was past. 

We both hoped, however, that the house and land would yet be ours. 

I found the Druze chief prostrate with humiliation and bewilderment. He greeted me with monstrous sighs, and told me how ashamed he was, how very ill. His eyes reproached me. What had he ever done to me thatI should loose upon him such a swarm of ignominies. I felt humiliatedand ashamed before him, an honourable man who had been treated like arogue on my account. 

'I shall not survive these insults, well I know it. I shall die, ' hekept lamenting. 'All my people know the way I have been treated--likea dog. '

I told him that there had been a misunderstanding, and that the shamewhich he had suffered had been all my fault, because I had been absentfor my selfish pleasure at the moment when I might have saved him by asimple statement of the facts. 

'I shall not easily recover, ' the chief groaned. 'And then that debtwhich I was so delighted to pay off is once again upon my shoulders. '

I explained then that the Consul's stopping of the sale was notconclusive, but provisional; his only stipulation being that, before Ipaid, all the legal formalities necessary to the transfer should havebeen fulfilled. 

'He asks no more than that your Excellency will condescend to gobefore the Caïmmacâm with witnesses, and have a proper title-deed madeout. '

At those words, uttered in all innocence, the great man shudderedviolently and his face went green. I feared that he would have a fit, but he recovered gradually; and at last he said: 'It is a cruelthought, and one which must have been suggested to him by my enemies. Know that the Caïmmacâm at present is my rival and most deadly foe. Wehave not met on terms of speech for many years; our servants fight atchance encounters on the road. It is but five years since I held thepost of Governor which he now occupies. When, by means of calumny andfoul intrigue against me at Stamboul, he managed to supplant me, Iswore a solemn oath that I would never recognise the Government norseek its sanction so long as he remained its representative. And nowthe Consul bids me have recourse to him. By Allah, I would sooner beimpaled alive. '

He paused a moment, swallowing his rage, then added:

'This, however, I will do. I will summon all the chiefs of all mypeople--every head of every family--hither to your presence andcommand them all to witness that the property is yours. I will makethem swear to defend you and your successors in possession of it withtheir lives if need be, and to leave the obligation as a sacred chargeto their descendants. That, I think, would be sufficient to assure youundisturbed possession if I die, as well I may, of this unheard-oftreatment. And if I live till happier times--that is, to see thedownfall of my enemy--then you shall have the Government certificatewhich the Consul deems of such immense importance. '

I now know that the kind of treaty which he thus proposed, laying asolemn charge on all his people--who would have been, of course, myneighbours--to defend my right, would have been worth a good dealmore than any legal document in that wild country. The Armeniangentleman, who was delighted that his mortgage still held good, toldme as much when next I saw him in the city. He thought me foolish notto jump at it, particularly when the land was offered to me for asong. But the Consul's prohibition, and the warnings of the Englishcolony, possessed more weight with me just then than his opinion, or, indeed, my own, for I was very young. 

I told the chieftain it was not enough. 

'Then I am truly sorry, ' he replied, with dignity; 'but there thematter ends. I have told your Honour the reason why I cannot go tocourt at present. '

Rashîd was sad when I informed him of my failure. Once more he cursedthe Druzes and all Consuls. And as we rode back through the mountainshe was wrapped in thought. He came at length to the conclusion thatthis, too, redounded to our honour, since anybody less exalted thanourselves would certainly have jumped at such an offer as the chiefhad made to me. But everything, for us, must be performed in the mostperfect manner. We were tremendous sticklers for formality. 

There was only one thing he could not get over. 

'It is the triumph of our enemy, that Sheykh Huseyn, ' he told me. 'Ihate to think of him in comfort in our house. '

CHAPTER XXIX

CONCERNING CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

If we wished to stay in any place for more than a day or two, Rashîd, upon arrival, wandered through the markets and inquired what dwellingswere to let, while I sat down and waited in some coffee-house. Withinan hour he would return with tidings of a decent lodging, whither weat once repaired with our belongings, stabling our horses at thenearest khan. 

My servant was an expert in the art of borrowing, so much so that nosound of disputation on that subject reached my ears. It seemed as ifthe neighbours came, delighted, of their own accord to lend us potsand pans and other necessaries. He also did the cooking and themarketing without a hitch, giving a taste of home to the smallwhitewashed chamber, which we had rented for a week, it might be, or amonth at most. 

When obliged to go out upon any errand, Rashîd was always worriedabout leaving me alone, regarding me as careless of my property and sountrusty from the point of view of one who idolised it. 

'If your Honour should be seized with a desire to smell the air when Iam absent, ' he would say, 'do not forget to lock the door and placethe key in the appointed hiding-place where I can find it. There arewicked people in the world. And while you sit alone, keep our revolverhandy. '

He told me that in cities robberies of private dwellings are oftenercommitted at high noon, when many houses are left empty, than atnight, when they are full of snoring folk. I did not doubt the truthof this assertion, but differed from him in believing that weharboured nothing likely to attract a thief. 

'I would not lose the buckle of a strap, a single grain of sesame, bysuch foul means, ' he would reply with vehemence. 

One morning--it was in Damascus--he went out, after imploring me asusual to take care of everything. The room we occupied was at the endof a blind alley, up a flight of nine stone steps. The alley led intoa crowded, narrow street, bordered with shops of many-coloured wares, which at that point was partly shaded by a fine old ilex tree. Fromwhere I sprawled upon a bed of borrowed cushions in the room, readinga chap-book I had lately purchased--_The Rare Things of Abu Nawwâs_--Isaw the colour and the movement of that street as at the far end of adark kaleidoscope, for all the space between was in deep shadow. 

When a man turned up our alley--a most rare occurrence--I noticed hisappearance. It was rather strange. He wore an old blue shirt, and onhis head a kind of turban, but of many colours and, unlike any I hadever seen upon the natives of the country, with an end or streamerhanging loose upon one side. In complexion, too, he was a good dealdarker than a Syrian, and yet had nothing of the negro in his looks. Something furtive in his manner of approach amused me, as suggestiveof the thief of Rashîd's nightmares. I moved into the darkest cornerof the room and lay quite still. He climbed our steps and filled thedoorway, looking in. 

It happened that Rashîd had left a bag of lentils, bought thatmorning, just inside. The thief seized that and, thinking he wasunobserved, was going to look round for other spoil, when I sat up andasked to know his business. He gave one jump, replied: 'It is nomatter, ' and was gone immediately. I watched him running till hevanished in the crowded street. 

Rashîd returned. I told him what had happened in his absence, but hedid not smile. He asked me gravely to describe the man's appearance, and, when I did so, groaned: 'It is a Nûri (gipsy). Who knows theirlurking-places? Had it been a townsman or a villager I might perhapshave caught him and obtained redress. ' He said this in a manner ofsoliloquy before he turned to me, and, with reproachful face, exclaimed:

'He stole our bag of lentils and you watched him steal it! You had athand our good revolver, yet you did not shoot!'

'Why should I shoot a man for such a trifle?'

'It is not the dimensions or the value of the object stolen that yourHonour ought to have considered, but the crime! The man who steals abag of lentils thus deliberately is a wicked man, and when a man iswicked he deserves to die; and he expects it. '

I told him that the gipsy was quite welcome to the lentils, but hewould not entertain that point of view. After trying vainly toconvince me of my failure to perform a social duty, he went out to theestablishment of a coffee-seller across the street, who kept his cupsand brazier in the hollow trunk of the old ilex tree, and set stoolsfor his customers beneath its shade, encroaching on the public street. Thither I followed after a few minutes, and found him tellingeverybody of the theft. Those idlers all agreed with him that it wasright to shoot a thief. 

'All for a bag of lentils!' I retorted loftily. 'God knows I do notgrudge as much to any man. '

At that there rose a general cry of 'God forbid!' while one explained:

'It were a sin to refuse such a thing to a poor man in need who cameand begged for it in Allah's name. But men who take by stealth orforce are different. Think if your Honour had destroyed that thief, the rascal would not now be robbing poorer folk, less able to sustainthe loss! Suppose that bag of lentils had been all you had! There maybe people in the world as poor as that. '

'Why should I kill a man who offered me no violence?' I askeddefiantly. 

'Why should you not do so, when the man is evidently wicked?'

'Why do the Franks object to killing wicked people?' asked thecoffee-seller with a laugh. 'Why do they nourish good and bad in theirsociety?'

'It is because they are without religion, ' muttered one man in hisbeard. 

An elder of superior rank, who overheard, agreed with him, pronouncingin a tone of gentle pity:

'It is because they lose belief in Allah and the life to come. Theydeem this fleeting life the only one vouchsafed to man, and death thelast and worst catastrophe that can befall him. When they have killeda man they think they have destroyed him quite; and, as each one ofthem fears such destruction for himself if it became the mode, theycondemn killing in their laws and high assemblies. We, when we kill aperson, know that it is not the end. Both killed and killer will bejudged by One who knows the secrets of men's breasts. The killed isnot deprived of every hope. For us, death is an incident: for them, the end. Moreover, they have no idea of sacrifice. Killing, with them, is always the result of hate. '

'What does your Honour mean by that last saying?' I inquired withwarmth. 

The old man smiled on me indulgently as he made answer sadly:

'Be not offended if we speak our mind before you. We should not do soif we wished you ill. Here, among us, it is not an unheard-of thingfor men to kill the creatures they love best on earth; nor do menblame them when, by so doing, they have served the cause of God, whichis the welfare of mankind. Thus it was of old the rule, approved ofall the world, that every Sultan of the line of Othman had to kill hisbrothers lest they should rise against him and disturb the peace ofall the realm. Was it not like depriving life of all its sweetnessthus to destroy their youth's companions and their nearest kin? Yet, though their hearts were in the bodies of their victims, theyachieved it. And the victims met their death with the like fortitude, all save a few of less heroic mould. 

'Now, I have read some histories written by the Europeans. They do notunderstand these things at all. They think us merely cruel--just aswe, in the same unperceiving manner, think them merely covetous. Yet Idisagree with your good servant in the present case. I think that youwere right to spare that Nûri. '

Rashîd, who, with the rest of the assembly, had listened to the oldman's speech with reverence, exclaimed:

'It is not just this Nûri or that bag of lentils, O my lord! My masteris thus careless always. He never locks the door when he goes outduring my absence, though all that we possess is in that room. '

'Thy lord is young. ' The old man smiled upon me kindly, and proceededthen to read me a mild lecture on my carelessness, detailing to me theprecautions which he took himself, habitually, when shutting up hishouse or place of business, including pious formulas which he made merepeat after him. While he was thus instructing me, Rashîd went off, returning in about three minutes with a face of indignation strangelyand incongruously mixed with triumph. 

Taking his stand before me in the very middle of the seated crowd, hesaid:

'You left the door wide open even after you had seen that Nûri stealthe bag of lentils. I have this minute been to look and I have seen. With our revolver lying in the full light of the doorway! MercifulAllah! What is to be done with you?'

The old man, my preceptor, laughed aloud; and at the sound Rashîd, whose desperation was not acted, wept real tears. The people round ustried in vain to comfort him. 

CHAPTER XXX

THE UNWALLED VINEYARD

One morning, as we rode along, we came to vineyards on a valley-side. Rashîd dismounted and began to pick the grapes. Suleymân dismountedlikewise, and invited me to do the same. 

'But it is stealing, ' I objected. 

'Allah! Allah!' moaned Suleymân, as one past patience. He hung hishead a moment, limp all over, as if the spirit had been taken out ofhim; then called out to Rashîd, who was devouring grapes:

'Return, O malefactor, O most wicked robber! Thou art guilty of afearful crime. Thy master says so. '

Rashîd came back to us immediately, bringing a purple bunch, which hewas going to give to me when Suleymân prevented him, exclaiming:

'Wouldst dishonour our good lord by placing in his hands the fruit ofinfamy, as if he were a vile accomplice of thy crime? For shame, Osinful depredator, O defrauder of the poor!'

Rashîd gaped at him, and then looked at me. I held out my hand for thegrapes. 

'Touch them not, for they are stolen!' cried Suleymân. 

'I know not what thou wouldst be at, O evil joker, ' said Rashîd, withwarmth; 'but if thou callest me a thief again, I'll break thy head. '

'_I_ call thee thief? Thou art mistaken, O my soul! By Allah! I am butthe mouthpiece of thy master here, who says that to pluck grapes outof this vineyard is to steal. '

Rashîd looked towards me, half incredulous, and, seeing that I ate thegrapes with gusto, answered with a laugh:

'He does not understand our customs, that is all. By Allah! there isno man in this land so churlish or so covetous as to begrudge tothirsty wayfarers a bunch of grapes out of his vineyard or figs orapricots from trees beside the road. To go into the middle of thevineyard and pick fruit there would be wrong, but to gather from theedge is quite allowable. If we were to come with sumpter-mules andload them with the grapes, that would be robbery; but who but the mostmiserly would blame us for picking for our own refreshment as we pass, any more than he would stop the needy from gleaning in the fields whencorn is cut. What your Honour thinks a crime, with us is reckoned as akindness done and taken. '

'Aye, ' said Suleymân, whose gift was for interpretations, 'and in thesame way other matters which your Honour blames in us as faults are inreality but laudable and pious uses. Thus, it is customary here amongus to allow the servant to help himself a little to his master'splenty in so far as food and means of living are concerned. Theservant, being wholly given to his master's service, having no othermeans of living, still must live; aye, and support a wife and childrenif he have them; and it is the custom of our great ones to pay littlewages, because they have but little ready money. Upon the other hand, they have possessions and wide influence, in which each servant istheir partner to a small extent. No one among them would object tosuch small profits as that cook of yours, whom you condemned sofiercely, made while in your service. If the master does not care tolet the servant gain beyond his wages, he must pay him wages highenough for his existence--certainly higher wages than you paid thatcook. '

'I paid him what he asked, ' I said indignantly. 

'And he asked what he thought sufficient in consideration of theprofits he felt sure of making in your service--a foreigner and ayoung man of many wants. '

'I had told him that thou art of all men living the most generous!'put in Rashîd. My dismissal of that cook had long been rankling in hismind. 'It is the custom of the country, ' he subjoined, defiantly. 

'It is a custom which I very heartily dislike, ' I answered. 'It seemsto me that people here are always grasping. Look at the prices whichthe merchants ask, the way they bargain. They fight for each para asif it were their soul's salvation. They are mad for gain. '

'Again you are mistaken, ' answered Suleymân. 'They do not ask too muchfrom avarice, but for the sake of pastime. Indeed, you will findsometimes that the price they ask is less than the real value of theobject, and still they let the buyer beat it down--for mere amusementof the argument and for the sake of seeing what devices he will use. In addition, they will give the buyer a nice cup of coffee--sometimestwo cups of coffee if the argument is long--and as many glasses fullof sherbet as he cares to drink. '

'And if the buyer will not pay the price, though much reduced, themerchant often will present the object to him, as happened to yourHonour in Aleppo only the other day, ' put in Rashîd. 

'That was only a device to shame me into buying it. '

'No, by your Honour's leave!'

'Rashîd may well be right, ' said Suleymân, 'although I cannot judge ofthe peculiar instance since I was not present. '

Just then we came around a shoulder of the hill, and saw some people, men and women, harvesting the grapes in a much larger vineyard. 

'Now you shall see!' exclaimed Rashîd exultantly. He got down off hishorse and stooped over the nearest vines. The workers, seeing him, setup a shout of 'Itfaddalû!' (perform a kindness), the usual form ofhospitable invitation. Since we refused to join them in the middle ofthe vineyard a man came wading towards us, bearing on his head abasket tray piled up with grapes. Suleymân picked out three monstrousclusters, one for each of us, with blessings on the giver. To my offerof payment the fellâh opposed a serious refusal, saying: 'It would bea shame for me. '

'You see now!' said Rashîd, as we resumed our way. 'It is not robberyfor wayfarers to take refreshment. '

'And as for the custom of the merchants, ' added Suleymân, 'in asking amuch higher price than that which they at last accept, what would youhave? Those merchants are rich men, who have enough for all theirneeds. Their aim is not that of the Frankish traders: to increasetheir wealth by all means and outdistance rivals. Their object is topass the time agreeably and, to that end, detain the customer as longas possible, the more so if he be a person like your Honour, who lovesjokes and laughter. The greatest disappointment to our merchants isfor the customer to pay the price first asked and so departimmediately. I have a rare thing in my memory which hits the case. 

'Everyone has heard of Abdu, the great Egyptian singer, who diedrecently. His only daughter met her death in a distressing way. It washer wedding night, and bride and bridegroom died of suffocation owingto the scent of flowers and perfumes in the bedroom where they lay. Atsight of the two corpses Abdu broke his lute and swore a solemn oathnever to sing again. 

'He was rich--for he had earned much by his singing, often as much asa hundred pounds a night--and he sought some means to pass the timetill death should come for him. He took a shop in Cairo, and hoped forpleasant conversation in the course of bargaining. But the Egyptianswished to hear him sing again, and men of wealth among them plannedtogether to buy up his whole stock-in-trade immediately. This happenedthrice, to the despair of Abdu, who saw his hope of pastime taken fromhim. In the end he was compelled to get the Câdi to release him fromhis vow, and sing again, although he would have much preferred to be amerchant. That shows the difference between a trader in our citiesand one in any city of the Franks, whose sole desire is to sellquickly and repeatedly. '

'There is no accounting for tastes, ' was my reply. 'For my part Idetest this bargaining. '

'When that is understood by decent merchants they will not afflictthee. They will ask thee a fair price and let thee go--though withregret, for they would rather spend an hour in talk with thee, ' saidSuleymân indulgently. 'It is a game of wits which most men like. ' Heshrugged his shoulders. 

'Your Honour was relating yesterday, ' observed Rashîd, with grievancein his tone, 'how an Englishman of your acquaintance in our countryaccused his servants of dishonesty. Doubtless he distrusted them andlocked things up, which is the same as saying to them: "It is my locksand my vigilance against your wits. " Few men of spirit could resist achallenge such as that, which is indeed to urge men on to robbery. Butwhere the master trusts his servants and leaves all things to theircare, only a son of infamy would dream of robbing him. '

'Let me propound the matter otherwise for understanding. Seeing thatopen vineyard, with a wall but two stones high, no man would think ofplundering the crop of grapes. But surround that vineyard with a high, strong wall, and every son of Adam will conceive the project ofclearing it of every cluster. '

'I should never think of such a thing. '

'That is because your Honour is accustomed to restraints andbarriers, ' said Suleymân. 'We, in the Sultan's dominions, have morefreedom, praise to Allah! For us a high wall is an insult, save incities. '

CHAPTER XXXI

THE ATHEIST

Though I had known Suleymân for nearly two years, and had had him withme for some six months of that time, I had never seen him in hisfunction of a dragoman, by which he earned enough in two months of theyear to keep a wife and children in a village of the coasts of Tyreand Sidon, of which he spoke with heart-moving affection, though heseldom went there. It was only after much insistence that he allowedus to conduct him thither on one memorable occasion, when I could notbut admire his perfect manners as a despot. When first I met him hehad been a gentleman at large, and it was as that, and a familiarfriend, that he repaired to me whenever he had nothing else to do. Judging from his gifts of conversation, which we all admired, and hisunbounded knowledge of the country, I thought that, as a guide fortourists, he would be invaluable. So, when I heard that Englishfriends of mine were coming out to Palestine, I wrote advising them toask for him, him only; and I was glad to hear soon afterwards that hewas with them. When they came north, I joined the party at Damascusand travelled with them for their last fortnight. 

It did not take me many minutes in the camp to see that Suleymân wasnot himself, and that my friends were not so charmed with him as I hadthought they would be. On the first evening in their tent I heardcomplaints. They told me he was most unconscionably lazy, and wouldnot take them to the places they desired to visit. The trouble was, asI soon learnt, that they possessed a map and guidebook which theystudied reverently every night, finding out places said therein to beof interest. Suleymân, on his side, had, at setting out, possessed aplan to make their tour the most delightful one imaginable. He hopedby visiting selected spots and people to give it sequence andsignificance. In a word, he was an artist in travel, wishing toprovide them with delicious memories, while they were English andomnivorous of facts and scenes. When he learnt from various rebuffsthat they would not confide themselves to him, he lost all pleasure inthe tour. It was a listless and disgusted upper servant, most unlikethe man I knew, whom I found in gorgeous raiment sitting by the cook'sfire in the gardens of Damascus, which were then a wilderness ofroses. 

He did not explain matters to me all at once. When I reproached himfor neglecting friends of mine, he answered only: 'It is the will ofAllah, who made men of different kinds, some sweet, some loathsome. 'But my arrival mended things a little. At least, my English friendsprofessed to see a great improvement in the conduct of Suleymân andall the servants. I think it was because the poor souls knew that theyhad someone now to whom they could express their grievances, someonewho would condescend to talk with them; for nothing is more foreign tothe Oriental scheme of life than the distance at which English peoplekeep their servants. In the democratic East all men are equal, as faras rights of conversation are concerned. It is a hardship for theOriental to serve Europeans, and only the much higher and morecertain wages bring him to it. 

My English friends had few good words to say for any of their Arabservants; but I found they had conceived a perfect hatred for thecook, who had undoubtedly a villainous appearance. He was a one-eyedman with a strong cast in his surviving eye. A skull-cap, which hadonce been white, concealed his shaven poll, and his long pointed earsstood out upon it. He wore a shirt of indigo impaired by time, overwhich, when riding, he would throw an ancient Frankish coat, or, if itchanced to rain, a piece of sacking. His legs were bare, and he worescarlet slippers. To see him riding on an ass hung round with cookingtins, at the head of the procession of the beasts of burden, suggestedto the uninformed spectator that those beasts of burden and theirloads had all been stolen. 

I spoke about him to Suleymân one day when in my company he hadregained his wonted spirits, telling him of the extreme dislike myfriends had taken to the man. 

'They are foolish, ' he replied, 'to grumble at the figure of a millwhich grinds good flour. They profit by his cooking, which isexcellent. Indeed, he is the best cook in the world, and mostparticular. I took great trouble to secure him for this expedition, knowing that the Khawâjât were friends of yours. ' The tone ofgrievance in his voice became acute. 

I feared that he was going to cry, so answered quickly:

'It is not that. They like his cooking. But his manners----'

'What know they of his manners? Has he ever entered the saloon orbed-tent to defile them? Has he ever spoken insult in their hearing?Inform me of his crime, and I will beat him bloody. But well I know hehas done nothing wrong, for I have kept him in the strictest order allthese days. It is only his appearance they object to; and that isGod's affair, not theirs. The Lord repay them!'

'You say that you have kept him in strict order? Is that necessary?'

'Of course it is, for the poor man is mad. I thought his madness wouldamuse them; it is very funny. But Allah knows that there is not alaugh in all their bodies. So I have kept him from approaching them. '

The word 'majnûn, ' which I have here translated 'mad, ' has often, as Iknew, a complimentary value; and I gathered from Suleymân's way ofspeaking that the cook was not a raving maniac, but rather what inEnglish country-places we should call 'a character. '

I cultivated his acquaintance after that, and was astonished by hispowers of story-telling and of mimicry; still more, perhaps, by acurious, dry scepticism, expressed facetiously and sometimes withprofanity, which was evident in almost everything he said. This it waswhich chiefly pleased the waiter and the muleteers, who were his usuallisteners, since they were together on the road. They would laugh andcurse him in religious terms for a blasphemer and a wicked atheist, reproofs which he received as high applause. It was his custom tosalute his friends with insults, which they took kindly from him, being what he was. They told me in low tones of awe, yet with achuckle, that he had even sold his father's grave in a facetious way. But I could never get them to relate that story clearly. 

I could understand then why Suleymân had kept him in strict order onthe journey; for my English friends were quite incapable of seeing anyfun in such a character. Nor did I ever tell them of the greatadventure of that journey, in which their cook was very nearly done todeath. 

It happened near the village of Mejdel esh-Shems, down in the valleyunderneath Mount Hermon. We remained in camp there over Sunday, and onSunday afternoon my friends were resting in their tent. Suleymân and Ihad seized that opportunity to go off for a ramble by ourselves, whichdid us good. We were returning to the camp in time for tea, when acrowd of fellâhîn came hurrying from the direction of our tents, waving their arms and shouting, seeming very angry. Suleymân calledout to them to learn the matter. 

'Zandîq!' (an atheist) they cried. 'Zandîq! Zandîq!'

'Where?' I asked, eagerly. 

'There, in yonder tent, ' an old white-bearded man informed me, withwide eyes of horror. He pointed to the canvas windscreen againstwhich our famous cook sat gazing at the kettle he had set to boil fortea. 'We go to fetch the wherewithal to kill him properly. '

'Stop!' said Suleymân peremptorily. 'You are mistaken. That is ourcook--a good, religious man, but mad occasionally. '

'No, there is no mistake, O lords of honour, ' cried a score of voices;while the old man who had pointed out the cook to me, explained:

'He said--may God protect us from the blame of it!--He said: "You seethat mountain! It is I who made it. Prostrate yourselves before me forI made the world. " We had been standing round him inoffensively, asking him questions, as the custom is, about his parentage, histrade, and so forth. But when we heard that awful blasphemy we rentour clothes, and ran in haste to fetch our weapons, as thou seest. Delay us not, for he must surely die. '

'Commit not such a wickedness! The man is mad. '

'No; he is sane. '

'Quite mad, I do assure you. Return with us, and I will prove it toyour understanding, ' cried Suleymân. 

I added my assurance. They came back with us, but murmuring, and intwo minds. I could not but admire the simple piety which prompted themat once to kill a man whose speech betrayed him as an atheist. But Iwas very much afraid of what might happen, and of the sad impressionit would make upon my English friends. And everything depended on thecook's behaviour. 

'I tell you he is mad, ' said Suleymân, advancing towards the fire. 'Itwere a sin for you to slay a fellow-creature thus afflicted. Comehither, O Mansûr, ' he cried as to a dog. 

The cook rose up and came towards us with a foolish air. 

'Lie down before my horse. I would ride over thee. '

The cook fell prostrate, then turned over on his back. His mouth hungopen idiotically; his tongue lolled out. 

'Now rise and kiss my boot. '

The cook obeyed. By that time there were murmurs of compassion fromthe would-be slayers. 

'Spake I not truly?' asked Suleymân. 

'Aye, O sun of verity! He is quite mad, the poor one, ' said the oldman who had acted spokesman. 'It were a sin for us to kill him, beingin that state. His manner at the first deceived us. Allah heal him!How came the dreadful malady upon him?'

'It came upon him through the pangs of unrequited love. '

'Alas, the poor one! Ah, the misery of men! May Allah heal him!' criedthe women, as the group of villagers moved off, contented. Just whenthe last of them passed out of sight the longest tongue I ever saw inman emerged from the cook's mouth, and the rascal put his finger tohis nose in a derisive gesture. Those portents were succeeded by arealistic cock-crow. 

'What makes the cook like that, devoid of reverence?' I asked ofSuleymân. 

'It is because he was born in Jerusalem, ' was the astonishing reply. 'He is a Christian, and was born poor; and the quarrels of themissionaries over him, each striving to obtain his patronage for someabsurd belief, have made him what he is--a kind of atheist. '

Selîm, the waiter, who was near and overheard this ending, burst outlaughing. 

'An atheist!' he cried. 'Your Honour understands? It means a man whothinks there is no God. Just like a beetle!' and he held his quakingsides. 

Both he and Suleymân appeared to think that atheism was a subject tomake angels laugh. And yet they were as staunch believers as thosefellâhîn. 

CHAPTER XXXII

THE SELLING OF OUR GUN

I had been ill with typhoid fever. Just before my illness, the son ofa sheykh in our neighbourhood had asked me to lend him my gun for afew days, since I never used it. There was nothing really which Icared to shoot. The village people rushed out in pursuit of everylittle bird whose tweet was heard, however distant, in the olivegroves or up the mountain side. Jackals there were besides, and anoccasional hyæna; and, in the higher mountains, tigers, so the peoplestill persisted in declaring, meaning leopards, I suppose, or lynxes;for ignorant Arabs lump together a whole genus under one specificname, in the same way that they call all wild plants, which haveneither scent nor market-value, grass. It was after we had soughtthose tigers vainly that I put away my gun. 

The sheykh's son asked me for the loan of it, and I consented in theabsence of Rashîd; who, when he heard what I had done, defiled hisface with dust and wailed aloud. Suleymân, who happened to be with usat the moment, also blamed me, looking as black as if I had committedsome unheard-of sin. It is unlucky for a man to lend his gun toanybody, even to the greatest friend he has on earth, they told mesadly; and that for no superstitious reason, but because, according tothe law, if murder be committed with that weapon, the owner of the gunwill be considered guilty no matter by whose hand the shot was fired. 

'How do they know the owner of the gun?' I answered, scoffing. 

'For every gun there is a tezkereh, '[8] answered Rashîd; 'and he whoholds the tezkereh is held responsible for every use to which that gunis put. '

It was, in fact, a rough-and-ready way of saying that the gun licencewas not transferable. I remarked with satisfaction that I had notezkereh, but that did not appear to reassure them in the least. Theystill were of opinion harm might come of it. 

Then I fell ill and knew no more of daily life until I found myselfin a hospital of the German Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, wherethe good sisters nursed me back to health. 

Among the Arab visitors from far and near who came to see me as I layin bed, was the youth who had borrowed my gun, together with hisfather and his brethren, who wept real tears and prayed for mycomplete recovery, talking as if they were beholden to me in somesignal way. Their manner puzzled me a little at the time; but I hadquite forgotten that perplexity when, discharged at last fromhospital, I travelled back into the mountains with Rashîd. 

On the very day of my return I got an invitation from that young man'sfather to dine with him at noon upon the morrow. Rashîd made a grimaceat hearing of it and, when I asked him why, looked down his nose andsaid:

'He has our gun. '

'Aye, to be sure, and so he has!' I said. 'To-morrow I must not forgetto ask him for it. '

Rashîd looked big with tidings, but restrained himself and merelygrowled:

'You will not ask for it. I know your Honour! Nor will that roguereturn it of his own accord. '

At the sheykh's house next day I found a largeish company assembled inmy honour, as it seemed. Innumerable were the compliments on myrecovery, the pretty speeches and remarks, to which I made reply asbest I could. The meal consisted of some thirty courses, and was seton trays upon the floor in the old, country fashion, everybody eatingwith his fingers from the dish. When it drew near an end, the son ofthe house glanced at his father meaningly, and getting in return anod, rose up and left the room. He soon came back, carrying my gun, which he brought first to me as if for benediction, then handed roundfor the inspection of the other guests. There were cries of 'Mash'Allah!' while they all praised its workmanship, one man opiningthat it must have cost a mint of money, another wishing he possessedits brother, and so forth. These exclamations and asides wereevidently aimed at me, and it was somehow carried to my understandingthat this exhibition of the gun, and not the public joy on myrecovery, was the true reason of the feast and all attending it;though why it should be so I could not think. 

'One thing that is remarkable about this gun, ' explained the master ofthe house, 'is that it cannot miss the object aimed at. We have triedit at a target nailed upon a tree--I and my sons--at fifty and ahundred paces--aye, and more! And, by the Lord, the bullet alwaysstrikes exactly on the spot at which the gun is pointed, even thoughthat spot be not much bigger than a gnat. '

And then, quite unaccountably, the whole assembly rose and tried tokiss my hands, as if the virtues of my gun were due to me. It wasobviously not the moment to reclaim the weapon. 

When I got home after that strange ovation, Rashîd received me coldlyand observed:

'You do not bring our gun! You feared to ask for it! Did not I knowhow it would be? Oh, Allah, Allah!'

'I had no opportunity, ' I told him; 'but I am going now to write andask him to return it. Be ready for the letter. You will have to takeit. '

'Upon my head and eye, with all alacrity, ' Rashîd replied. 'Never didI rejoice so much in any errand. That rascal has been tellingeverybody that it is your gift to him, and boasting of his gun throughall the mountains. No doubt, he counts upon your illness having dimmedremembrance, and hopes that you yourself may be deluded into thinkingthat it was a gift and not a loan. '

'Why did you not tell me this before?' I asked. 

'Was it my business, till the question rose?'

I wrote a civil note to the young man, asking him to let me have thegun in a few days, as I was collecting my belongings for the journeyback to England. I thanked him for the care which he had taken of myproperty, which was much better kept than when I lent it to him, as Ihad remarked that day. Rashîd received the missive and went offexulting. 

Within an hour that young man came to me, without the gun, and in astate of most profound affliction and despair. Having shut the doorwith great precaution to make sure we were alone, he fell upon theground and burst out crying, confessing that his passion for the gunhad made him dream that it was his each night as he lay thinking erehe fell asleep. 

'But I did not tell a soul that it was mine--did but dream it--until Iknew your Honour was abed and like to die, ' he told me naively, assomething which might make his fault seem natural. 'I thought that youwould die and leave it with me. '

So, thinking me as good as dead, he had told his father and hisbrothers that it was a gift from me, or, as it were, a legacy; and nowthe fame of my munificence, my love for him, had gone abroad. An hourago, when he received my letter, he had confessed the truth at lastand privately to his beloved father, who, while strongly blaming himfor his deceit, was willing to pay any price I chose to put upon theweapon to save him from the horrid scandal of exposure. If the storybecame public in the country he would die of grief. The honour of anoble house was at my mercy. 

The gun, so much admired, was quite a cheap one in reality. I hadbought it for ten pounds three years before, in London, on the adviceof an uncle skilled in all such matters. After a moment's thought, Isaid: 'Eight English pounds. '

Never in my life before or since have I beheld such transports ofrelief and gratitude, nor heard such heartfelt praises of mygenerosity. He told the money out before me there and then, insistedon embracing me repeatedly, and then rushed out, intent to tell hisfather. 

When he had gone, Rashîd appeared before me, stern and aloof as theRecording Angel. 

'It is a crime you have committed, ' he exclaimed indignantly. 'Thatrascal told me as we came along together that his father was preparedto pay a hundred pounds to save their honour. He had sinned; it is butright his house should bear the punishment. '

'You would have done as I have done, in my position, ' I assured him, laughing. 

'In the position of your Honour, ' was the dignified reply, 'I shouldeither have made him pay a hundred pounds for our gun, or elsepersuaded him that it was worth a hundred pounds, and then presentedit. In either case I should have crushed those people utterly. But, for a man in your position to accept eight pounds for such aweapon--and proclaim it worth no more--that is a shame! If your desirewas money, you should not have touched the matter personally, but haveleft it altogether in the hands of me, your servant, who am alwayscareful of your honour, which is mine as well. '

He sulked with me thereafter for two days. 

FOOTNOTES:

[8] Licence. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

MY BENEFACTOR

When I knew at length that I was going to leave Syria, I was seizedwith a desire to buy all kinds of notions of the country to show to mypeople at home--a very foolish way of spending money, I am now aware, for such things lose significance when taken from their propersetting. 

In after days, when leaving Syria for England, the one thing I wouldpurchase for myself was a supply of reed pens for Arabic writing. Buton that first occasion I wished to carry the whole country with me. 

There was an old, learned Christian of Beyrout, who had given melessons in Arabic at various times, and always waited on me honourablywhenever I alighted in that loveliest and most detestable of seaporttowns. He wore the baggiest of baggy trousers, looking just likepetticoats, a short fez with enormous hanging tassel, a black alpacacoat of French design, a crimson vest, white cotton stockings, andelastic-sided boots, convenient to pull off ere entering a room. Healways carried in the street a silver-headed cane, which he would leanwith care against the wall of any room he chanced to enter, neverlaying it upon the ground, or on a chair or table. In all the time ofmy acquaintance with him I never, that I can remember, saw him reallysmile, though something like a twinkle would occasionally touch hiseyes beneath great bushy eyebrows, between black and grey. Anextraordinarily strong and heavy grey moustache, with drooping ends, gave him a half-pathetic, half-imposing likeness to some aged walrus;so that some of the common people actually called him 'Sheykh el Bahr'(the old man of the sea)--which is the proper Arabic designation of awalrus. 

He came to see me after I had left the hospital and was staying withsome English friends for a few days before returning to the wilds fora farewell; and repeatedly praised Allah for my safe recovery. Therenever was a man more thoroughly respectable, more perfectly correctin every word and movement. He disapproved of poor Rashîd as acompanion for me, because the latter dealt in vulgar language; and Ifeel certain that he would have disapproved of Suleymân, if he hadever seen that Sun of Wisdom in my company, for pandering to my desirefor foolish stories. He was known as the Mu'allim Costantîn, a worthyman. 

With his usual ceremonious salutation, suggestive of his high positionas a representative of learning, he placed himself at my command forany purchases I wished to make; knowing, he said, that I was likely tobe busy in the weeks before departure. And his offer was extremelywelcome to me at the time. I wished, as I have said already, to buylots of things; among others--why, I cannot now imagine--the wholecostume of natives of the country. The Mu'allim Costantîn praised myintention, gravely declaring that it could not fail to interest myhonoured relatives and lovers, and enlarge their minds, to know thedetails of a dress the most becoming in the world. In order that afull idea of Syrian raiment might be given, two suits and two longgarments (corresponding to two other suits) were necessary, hepronounced. These, with the various articles of clothing which I thenpossessed and had grown used to wearing in the country, would besufficient for the purposes of exhibition. 

Upon the following day, as I was dressing, about ten o'clock (for Iwas still to some extent an invalid), there came a light knock at thedoor, and the Mu'allim Costantîn appeared, ushering in a friend ofhis, who was a tailor--a man as grave and worthy as himself, who thereand then proceeded to take measurements, praising the proportions withwhich nature had endowed me, and asking Allah to fill out those partswhich now were lean through illness. The moment of a man's uprisingis--or was at that time, for old customs are now dying out--the onewhich servants, tradesmen, pedlars, and all who wished to ask a favourchose for visiting. On the morning after my arrival in an Eastern citywhere I happened to be known I have had as many as twelve personssquatting round upon the floor, watching a barber shave me, while alittle boy, the barber's 'prentice, bearing towels, jug, and basin, waited upon him like an acolyte. 

The tailor, having made the necessary notes, withdrew with manycompliments. The Mu'allim Costantîn remained behind a moment, toassure me, in a loud stage-whisper, that the said tailor was a manwhom I could trust to do the best for me, and that I might thinkmyself extremely fortunate to have secured his services, as, beingmuch sought after by the fashionables, he generally had more work thanhe could really do; but that, having taken, as he said, a fancy to me, he would certainly turn out a set of garments to enslave the heart. Having said this in the finest classic phraseology, he went out torejoin the tailor in the passage; nor did I see him any more until thevery day of my departure, when, at the English Consul-General'shospitable house, I was waiting for the carriage which would take meto the quay. 

I was told that someone wished to see me upon urgent business, and, going to the great Liwân or entrance-hall, I found my friend, hissilver-headed cane leaned carefully against the wall as usual. Hecarried underneath his arm a number of large books. These he presentedto me with a solemn bow. 

'It occurred to me, ' he said, 'that as your Honour has a predilectionfor all those curious and often foolish tales which circulate amongthe common people, you might not perhaps disdain these four poorvolumes which I chance to have in my possession. Deign to accept themas a parting gift from me. '

I thanked him kindly, though in truth I was embarrassed, not knowingwhere to stow the books, since all my things were packed. And then hehanded me the tailor's bill, which, with the clothes which I hadordered, had escaped my memory. 

'Where are the clothes?' I asked, 'I had forgotten them. '

He pointed to a bundle pinned up honourably in a silken wrapper, reposing on the floor hard by the silver-handled cane. I tore theenvelope and opened out the bill. It came to twenty pounds. 

And I had got my money ready for my journey. I was going to visitsome of the Greek Islands, Smyrna, and Constantinople, on my way toEngland, and had hoped, besides, to see a little of the Balkan States. To pay out twenty pounds was to reduce that journey by at least afortnight. And, as I said, I had forgotten all about the clothes, regarding all my Syrian debts as fully paid. 

The hall was empty; we were quite alone. I fear I stormed at theMu'allim Costantîn, reminding him that he had promised that theclothes should not be dear. 

'But, ' he persisted, 'they are very cheap for the materials. If yourHonour's wish was to pay less, you ought not to have chosen fabricsthree parts silk. I did not know that you were counting money. '

He was right. Throughout my stay in Syria, until that moment, I hadnever counted money. Compared with England, living in the country wasabsurdly cheap, and on my small allowance I had lived at ease. Hemight quite reasonably have supposed me to be very wealthy. But I wasnot in reasonable mood just then. I paid the bill, but in an angrymanner; and while I was still talking to him, the Cawwâs arrived, and, close upon his heels, Rashîd in tears, to tell me that the carriagewas in waiting. The grief I felt at leaving Syria, at parting fromRashîd and our Sheytân and many friends took hold of me. Hurriedly Isaid goodbye to the Mu'allim Costantîn, and I am glad to say I changedmy tone at that last moment, and had the grace to bid him think nomore of the whole matter. But I shall carry to my grave therecollection of his face of horror while I scolded, the look that toldhis grief that he had been deceived in me. 

I went and shoved the books into my luggage here and there, gaveRashîd orders to send on the clothes, took leave of my kind hosts, anddrove down in a hurry to the quay. It was not till some time after Iarrived in England that I realised that the volumes which he hadpresented to me were a complete Bûlâc Edition of the _Thousand and OneNights_--a valuable book--which is my greatest treasure. 

Nor have I ever had the chance of thanking the giver in a mannerworthy of the gift, and wiping out the bad impression left by myill-temper, for a letter which I wrote from England never reached himI am told, and when I next was in his country the Mu'allim Costantînhad gone where kindness, patience, courtesy, and all his other virtuesare, I hope, rewarded. 

GLASGOW: W. COLLIN'S SONS AND CO. LTD. 

 * * * * *

 +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 212: Yusûf replaced with Yûsuf | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+