Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  On such projects and conversation the dinner passed for the overjoyed children. But somewhat less eagerness for the contemplated journey was displayed by Madame Olivier who was loath to leave the comfortable villa in Port Said and who was frightened at the thought of living for several weeks in a tent, and particularly at the plan of excursions on camel-back. It happened that she had already tried this mode of riding several times and these attempts ended unfortunately. Once the camel rose too soon, before she was well seated in the saddle, and as a result she rolled off his back onto the ground. Another time, the dromedary, not belonging to the light-footed variety, jolted her so that two days elapsed before she recovered; in a word, although Nell, after two or three pleasure-rides which Mr. Rawlinson permitted her to take, declared that there was nothing more delightful in the world, in the same measure only painful recollections remained for Madame Olivier. She said that this was good enough for Arabs or for a chit like Nell, who could not be jolted any more than a fly which should alight upon a camel’s hump, but not for persons dignified, and not too light, and having at the same time a certain proneness to unbearable sea-sickness.

  But as to Medinet el-Fayûm she had other fears. Now in Port Said as well as in Alexandria, Cairo, and in the whole of Egypt nothing was the subject of more discussion than the Mahdi’s insurrection and the cruelties of the dervishes. Madame Olivier, not knowing exactly where Medinet was situated, became alarmed as to whether it was not too near the Mahdists, and finally began to question Mr. Rawlinson about it.

  But he only smiled and said:

  “The Mahdi at this moment is besieging Khartûm in which General Gordon is defending himself. Does Madame know how far it is from Medinet to Khartûm?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “About as far as from here to Sicily,” explained Pan Tarkowski.

  “Just about,” corroborated Stas. “Khartûm lies where the White and Blue Niles meet and form one river. We are separated from it by the immense expanse of Egypt and the whole of Nubia.”

  Afterwards he wanted to add that even if Medinet should be closer to the regions overrun by the insurgents, he, of course, would be there with his short rifle; but recalling that for similar bragging he sometimes received a sharp reproof from his father, he became silent.

  The older members of the party, however, began to talk of the Mahdi and the insurrection, for this was the most important matter affecting Egypt. The news from Khartûm was bad. The wild hordes already had been besieging the city for a month and a half and the Egyptian and English governments were acting slowly. The relief expedition had barely started and it was generally feared that notwithstanding the fame, bravery, and ability of Gordon this important city would fall into the hands of the barbarians. This was the opinion of Pan Tarkowski, who suspected that England in her soul desired that the Mahdi should wrest it from Egypt in order to retake it later from him and make this vast region an English possession. He did not, however, share this suspicion with Mr. Rawlinson as he did not want to offend his patriotic feelings.

  Towards the close of the dinner Stas began to ask why the Egyptian Government had annexed all the country lying south of Nubia, particularly Kordofân, Darfur, and the Sudân as far as Lake Albert Nyanza and deprived the natives there of their liberty. Mr. Rawlinson explained that whatever was done by the Egyptian Government was done at the request of England which extended a protectorate over Egypt and in reality ruled her as Egypt herself desired.

  “The Egyptian Government did not deprive anybody of his liberty,” he said, “but restored it to hundreds of thousands and perhaps to millions of people. In Kordofân, in Darfur and in the Sudân there were not during the past years any independent States. Only here and there some petty ruler laid claim to some lands and took possession of them by force in spite of the will of the residents. They were mainly inhabited by independent Arab-negro tribes, that is, by people having the blood of both races. These tribes lived in a state of incessant warfare. They attacked each other and seized horses, camels, cattle, and, above all, slaves; besides, they perpetrated numerous atrocities. But the worst were the ivory and slave hunters. They formed a separate class, to which belonged nearly all the chiefs of the tribes and the richer traders. They made armed expeditions into the interior of Africa, appropriating everywhere ivory tusks, and carried away thousands of people: men, women, and children. In addition they destroyed villages and settlements, devastated fields, shed streams of blood, and slaughtered without pity all who resisted. In the southern portion of the Sudân, Darfur, and Kordofân, as well as the region beyond the Upper Nile as far as the lake they depopulated some localities entirely. But the Arabian bands made their incursions farther and farther so that Central Africa became a land of tears and blood. Now England which, as you know, pursues slave-dealers all over the world, consented that the Egyptian Government should annex Kordofân, Darfur, and the Sudân. This was the only method to compel these pillagers to abandon their abominable trade and the only way to hold them in restraint. The unfortunate negroes breathed more freely; the depredations ceased and the people began to live under tolerable laws. But such a state of affairs did not please the traders, so when Mohammed Ahmed, known to-day as ‘the Mahdi,’ appeared among them and proclaimed a holy war on the pretext that the true faith of Mahomet was perishing, all rushed like one man to arms; and so that terrible war has been kindled in which thus far the Egyptians have met with such poor success. The Mahdi has defeated the forces of the Government in every battle. He has occupied Kordofân, Darfur, and the Sudân; his hordes at present are laying a siege to Khartûm and are advancing to the north as far as the frontiers of Nubia.”

  “Can they advance as far as Egypt?” asked Stas.

  “No,” answered Mr. Rawlinson. “The Mahdi announces, indeed, that he will conquer the whole world, but he is a wild man who has no conception of anything. He never will take Egypt, as England would not permit it.”

  “If, however, the Egyptian troops are completely routed?”

  “Then would appear the English armies which no one has ever overcome.”

  “And why did England permit the Mahdi to occupy so much territory?”

  “How do you know that she has permitted it?” replied Mr. Rawlinson. “England is never in a hurry because she is eternal.”

  Further conversation was interrupted by a negro servant, who announced that Fatma Smain had arrived and begged for an audience.

  Women in the East are occupied exclusively with household affairs and seldom leave the harems. Only the poorer ones go to the market or work in the fields, as the wives of the fellahs, the Egyptian peasants, do; but these at such times veil their faces. Though in the Sudân, from which region Fatma came, this custom was not observed, and though she had come to Mr. Rawlinson’s office previously, nevertheless, her arrival, particularly at such a late hour and at a private house, evoked surprise.

  “We shall learn something new about Smain,” said Pan Tarkowski.

  “Yes,” answered Mr. Rawlinson, giving at the same time a signal to the servant to usher Fatma in.

  Accordingly, after a while there entered a tall, young Sudânese woman with countenance entirely unveiled, complexion very dark, and eyes beautiful but wild, and a trifle ominous. Entering, she at once prostrated herself, and when Mr. Rawlinson ordered her to rise, she raised herself but remained on her knees.

  “Sidi,” she said, “May Allah bless thee, thy posterity, thy home, and thy flocks!”

  “What do you want?” asked the engineer.

  “Mercy, help, and succor in misfortune, oh, sir! I am imprisoned in Port Said and destruction hangs over me and my children.”

  “You say that you are imprisoned, and yet you could come here, and in the night-time at that.”

  “I have been escorted by the police who day and night watch my house, and I know that they have an order to cut off our heads soon!”

  “Speak like a rational woman,” answered Mr. Rawlinson, shrugging his shoulders
. “You are not in the Sudân, but in Egypt where no one is executed without a trial. So you may be certain that not a hair will fall from your head or the heads of your children.”

  But she began to implore him to intercede for her yet once more with the Government, to procure permission for her to go to Smain.

  “Englishmen as great as you are, sir,” she said, “can do everything. The Government in Cairo thinks that Smain is a traitor, but that is false. There visited me yesterday Arabian merchants, who arrived from Suâkin, and before that they bought gums and ivory in the Sudân, and they informed me that Smain is lying sick at El-Fasher and is calling for me and the children to bless them—”

  “All this is your fabrication, Fatma,” interrupted Mr. Rawlinson.

  But she began to swear by Allah that she spoke the truth, and afterwards said that if Smain got well, he undoubtedly would ransom all the Christian captives; and if he should die, she, as a relative of the leader of the dervishes, could obtain access to him easily and would secure whatever she wished. Let them only allow her to leave, for her heart will leap out of her bosom from longing for her husband. In what had she, ill-fated woman, offended the Government or the Khedive? Was it her fault or could she be held accountable because she was the relative of the dervish, Mohammed Ahmed?

  Fatma did not dare in the presence of the “English people” to call her relative “the Mahdi,” as that meant the Redeemer of the world. She knew that the Egyptian Government regarded him as a rebel and an imposter. But continually striking her forehead and invoking heaven to witness her innocence and unhappy plight, she began to weep and at the same time wail mournfully as women in the East do after losing husbands or sons. Afterwards she again flung herself with face on the ground, or rather on the carpet with which the inlaid floor was covered, and waited in silence.

  Nell, who towards the close of the dinner felt a little sleepy, became thoroughly aroused and, having an upright little heart, seized her father’s hand, and kissing it again and again, began to beg for Fatma.

  “Let papa help her! Do please, papa!”

  Fatma, evidently understanding English, exclaimed amidst her sobs, not removing her face from the carpet:

  “May Allah bless thee, bird of paradise, with the joys of Omayya, oh, star without a blemish!”

  However implacable Stas in his soul was towards the Mahdists, he was moved by Fatma’s entreaties and grief. Besides, Nell interceded for her and he in the end always wanted that which Nell wished. So after a while he spoke out, as if to himself but so that all could hear him:

  “If I were the Government, I would allow Fatma to go.”

  “But as you are not the Government,” Pan Tarkowski said to him, “you would do better not to interfere in that which does not concern you.”

  Mr. Rawlinson also had a compassionate soul and was sensible of Fatma’s situation, but certain statements which she made struck him as being downright falsehoods. Having almost daily relations with the custom-house at Ismailia, he well knew that no new cargoes of gums or ivory were being transported lately through the Canal. The trade in those wares had ceased almost entirely. Arabian traders, moreover, could not return from the city of El-Fasher which lay in the Sudân, as the Mahdists, as a rule, barred all traders from their territories, and those whom they captured were despoiled and kept in captivity. And it was almost a certainty that the statement about Smain’s sickness was a falsehood.

  But as Nell’s little eyes were still looking at her papa appealingly, he, not desiring to sadden the little girl, after a while said to Fatma:

  “Fatma, I already have written at your request to the Government, but without result. And now listen. To-morrow, with this mehendis (engineer) whom you see here, I leave for Medinet el-Fayûm; on the way we shall stop one day in Cairo, for the Khedive desires to confer with us about the canals leading from Bahr Yûsuf and give us a commission as to the same. During the conference I shall take care to present your case and try to secure for you his favor. But I can do nothing more, nor shall I promise more.”

  Fatma rose and, extending both hands in sign of gratitude, exclaimed:

  “And so I am safe.”

  “No, Fatma,” answered Mr. Rawlinson, “do not speak of safety for I already told you that death threatens neither you nor your children. But that the Khedive will consent to your departure I do not guarantee, for Smain is not sick but is a traitor, who, having taken money from the Government, does not at all think of ransoming the captives from Mohammed Ahmed.”

  “Smain is innocent, sir, and lies in El-Fasher,” reiterated Fatma, “but if even he broke his faith with the Government, I swear before you, my benefactor, that if I am allowed to depart I will entreat Mohammed Ahmed until I secure the deliverance of your captives.”

  “Very well. I promise you once more that I will intercede for you with the Khedive.”

  Fatma began to prostrate herself.

  “Thank you, Sidi! You are not only powerful, but just. And now I entreat that you permit me to serve you as a slave.”

  “In Egypt no one can be a slave,” answered Mr. Rawlinson with a smile. “I have enough servants and cannot avail myself of your services; for, as I told you, we all are leaving for Medinet and perhaps will remain there until Ramazan.”

  “I know, sir, for the overseer, Chadigi, told me about that. I, when I heard of it, came not only to implore you for help, but also to tell you that two men of my Dongola tribe, Idris and Gebhr, are camel drivers in Medinet and will prostrate themselves before you when you arrive, submitting to your commands themselves and their camels.”

  “Good, good,” answered the director, “but that is the affair of the Cook Agency, not mine.”

  Fatma, having kissed the hands of the two engineers and the children, departed blessing Nell particularly. Both gentlemen remained silent for a while, after which Mr. Rawlinson said:

  “Poor woman! But she lies as only in the East they know how to lie, and even in her declaration of gratitude there is a sound of some false note.”

  “Undoubtedly,” answered Pan Tarkowski; “but to tell the truth, whether Smain betrayed or did not, the Government has no right to detain her in Egypt, as she cannot be held responsible for her husband.”

  “The Government does not now allow any Sudânese to leave for Suâkin or Nubia without a special permit; so the prohibition does not affect Fatma alone. Many of them are found in Egypt for they come here for gain. Among them are some who belong to the Dongolese tribe; that is the one from which the Mahdi comes. There are, for instance, besides Fatma, Chadigi and those two camel drivers in Medinet. The Mahdists call the Egyptians Turks and are carrying on a war with them, but among the local Arabs can be found a considerable number of adherents of the Mahdi, who would willingly join him. We must number among them all the fanatics, all the partisans of Arabi Pasha, and many among the poorer classes. They hold it ill of the Government that it yielded entirely to English influence and claim that the religion suffers by it. God knows how many already have escaped across the desert, avoiding the customary sea route to Suâkin. So the Government, having learned that Fatma also wanted to run away, ordered her to be put under surveillance. For her and her children only, as relatives of the Mahdi himself, can an exchange of the captives be effected.”

  “Do the lower classes in Egypt really favor the Mahdi?”

  “The Mahdi has followers even in the army, which perhaps for that reason fights so poorly.”

  “But how can the Sudânese fly across the desert? Why, that is a thousand miles.”

  “Nevertheless, by that route slaves were brought into Egypt.”

  “I should judge that Fatma’s children could not endure such a journey.”

  “That is why she wants to shorten it and ride by way of the sea to Suâkin.”

  “In any case, she is a poor woman.”

  With this the conversation concluded.

  Twelve hours later “the poor woman,” having carefully closeted herself in her hous
e with the son of the overseer Chadigi, whispered to him with knitted brows and a grim glance of her beautiful eyes:

  “Chamis, son of Chadigi, here is the money. Go even to-day to Medinet and give to Idris this writing, which the devout dervish Bellali, at my request, wrote to him. The children of the mehendes are good, but if I do not obtain a permit, then there is no other alternative. I know you will not betray me. Remember that you and your father too come from the Dongolese tribe in which was born the great Mahdi.”

  III

  Both engineers left the following night for Cairo where they were to visit the British minister plenipotentiary and hold an audience with the viceroy. Stas calculated that this would require two days, and his calculation appeared accurate, for on the third day at night he received from his father, who was already at Medinet, the following message: “The tents are ready. You are to leave the moment your vacation begins. Inform Fatma through Chadigi that we could not accomplish anything for her.” A similar message was also received by Madame Olivier who at once, with the assistance of the negress Dinah, began to make preparations for the journey.