Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  After this Abdullah wandered for a long time with the Bedouins who accompanied him, often changing his direction, so that they wondered whither he was leading them, and began to question him. But he answered that he had heard secretly of a great spoil to be taken, and that they should all have a share of it, and whenever they came upon Arabs of another tribe Abdullah invited the sheikh and the most notable men to his tent and entertained them sumptuously with camel’s meat, afterwards talking long with them in private. Before many weeks had passed, the skilful men of the tribe, who knew the signs, were aware that many other Bedouins were travelling in the same direction as themselves, though they could not be seen.

  But neither Abdullah’s men, nor Almasta herself, could know that in three months the sheikhs of all the tribes from Hasa to Harb, and from Ajman to El Kora, had heard that Khaled the Sultan was a Persian robber, and a Shiyah at heart, venerating Ali and execrating the true Sonna, a man who in all probability drank wine in secret, and who was certainly plotting to deliver up all Nejed to the power of the Ajjem. Some of them believed the tale readily enough, for all had asked whence Khaled was and none had got an answer. Could a man be of the desert, they asked, and yet not be known by name in any of the tribes, nor his father before him? Surely, there was a secret, they said, and he who will not tell the name of his father has a reason for changing his own. And as for his being brave and having fought well in the war with the Shammar, how could a man have been a robber if he were not brave, and why should he not fight manfully, since he had everything to gain and nothing to lose? As for the spoils, too, he had made a pretence of dividing them justly, but it was now well known that he had laden camels by stealth at Haïl and had sent them secretly to Riad, slaughtering with his own hand all those who had helped him.

  Little by little, too, the story came to Riad and was told in a low voice by merchants in the bazar, and repeated by their wives among their acquaintance, and by the slaves in the market and among the beggars who begged by the doors of the great mosque but were fed daily from the palace. And though many persons of the better sort thought that the story might be true, and wagged their heads when Khaled’s name was spoken, yet the beggars with one accord declared that it was a lie. For Khaled was generous in almsgiving, and they said, ‘If Khaled is overthrown and another Sultan set up in his place, how do we know whether there will be boiled camel’s meat from time to time as well as blanket-bread and a small measure of barley meal? And will the next Sultan scatter gold in the streets as Khaled did on the first day when he rode to the mosque? Truly these chatterers of Bedouins talk much of the treasure in the palace which will be divided, but they who talk most of gold, are they who most desire it, and we shall get none. Therefore we say it is a lie, and Khaled is a true man, and a Sonna like ourselves, not a swiller of wine nor a devourer of pigs. Allah show him mercy now and at the day of resurrection! The cock-sparrow is pluming his breast while the hunter is pulling the string of the snare.’

  Thus the beggars talked among themselves all day, reasoning after the manner of their kind. But they suffered other people to talk as they pleased, for one who desires alms must not exhibit a contradictory disposition, lest the rich man be offended and eat the melon together with the melon peels, and exclaim that the dirt-scraper has become a preacher. For the rich man’s anger is at the edge of his nostrils and always ready.

  As the winter passed away and the spring began, the tribes of the desert drew nearer and nearer to the city, as is their wont at that season. For many of the sheikhs had houses in the city, in which they spent the hot months of the year, while their people were encamped in the low hill country not far off, where the heat is less fierce than in the plains and the deserts. And now also the season of the Haj was approaching, for Ramadhan was not far off, and the beggars congregated at the gates waiting for the first pilgrims, and expecting plentiful alms, which in due time they received, for in that year Abdullah did not molest the Persian pilgrimage, his mind being occupied with other matters.

  CHAPTER IX

  THE STORY WHICH was thus repeated from mouth to mouth in Riad reached the palace at the last, and the guards told it to each other as they sat together under the shadow of the great wall, the cooks related it among themselves in the kitchen, and the black slaves gossiped about it in the corners of the courtyard, and the women slaves stood and listened while they talked and carried the tale into the harem. But the people of the palace were more slow to believe than the people of the city, for they shared in a measure in Khaled’s right of possession, and desired no change of master, so that for a long time neither Zehowah nor Khaled heard anything of what was commonly reported. Yet at last the old woman who had been Zehowah’s nurse told her the substance of the story, with many protestations of unbelief, and of anger against those who had invented the lie.

  ‘It is right that my lady and mistress should know these things,’ she said, ‘and when our lord the Sultan has been informed of them, he will doubtless cause his soldiers to go forth with sticks and purify the hides of the chief evil-speakers in the bazar. There is one especially, a merchant whose shop is opposite the door of the little mosque, who is continually bold in falsehood, being the same who sold me this garment for linen; but it afterwards turned out to be cotton and the gold threads are brass and have turned black. I pray Allah to be just as well as merciful.’

  At first Zehowah laughed, but soon afterwards her face became grave, and she bent her brows, for though the story was but a lie she saw how easily it would find credence. She therefore sent the old woman away with a gift and she herself went to Khaled, and sat down beside him and took his hand.

  ‘You have secret enemies,’ she said, ‘who are plotting against your life, and who have already begun to attack you by filling the air of the city with falsehoods which fly from house to house like flies in summer entering at the window and going out by the door. You must sift this matter, for it is worthy of attention.’

  ‘And what are these lies of which you speak?’

  ‘It is said openly in the city that you are a Shiyah and a Persian, having been a robber before you came here, and that you are plotting to deliver over Nejed to the Persians. Look to this, Khaled, for they say that you are no Bedouin since no one knows your descent nor the name of your father.’

  ‘Do you believe this of me, Zehowah?’ Khaled asked.

  ‘Do I believe that the sun is black and the night as white as the sun? But it is true that I do not know your father’s name.’

  Then Khaled was troubled, for he saw that it would be a hard matter to explain, and that without explanation his safety might be endangered. Zehowah sat still beside him, holding his hand and looking into his face, as though expecting an answer.

  ‘Have I done wisely in telling you?’ she asked at last. ‘You are troubled. I should have said nothing.’

  ‘You have done wisely,’ he answered. ‘For I will go and speak to them, and if they believe me, the matter is finished, but if not I have lost nothing.’

  ‘It will be well to give the chief men presents, and to distribute something among the people, for gifts are great persuaders of unbelief.’

  ‘Shall I give them presents because they have believed evil of me?’ asked Khaled, laughing. ‘Rather would I give you the treasures of the whole earth because you have not believed it.’

  ‘If I had the wealth of the whole world I would give it to them rather than that they should hurt a hair of your head,’ Zehowah answered.

  ‘Am I more dear to you than so much gold, Zehowah?’

  ‘What is gold that it should be weighed in the balance with the life of a man? You are dearer to me than gold.’

  ‘Is this love, Zehowah?’ Khaled asked, in a low voice.

  ‘I do not know whether it be love or not.’

  ‘The wing of night is lifted for a moment, and the false dawn is seen, and afterwards it is night again. But the true dawn will come by and by, when night folds her wings before the day.’

>   ‘You speak in a riddle, Khaled.’

  ‘It is no matter. I will neither make a speech to the people, nor give them gifts. What is it to me? Let them chatter from the first call to prayer until the lights are put out in the evening. My fate is about my neck, and I cannot change it, any more than I can make you love me. Allah is great. I will wait and see what happens.’

  ‘Everything is undoubtedly in Allah’s hand,’ said Zehowah. ‘But if a man, having meat set before him, will not raise his right hand to thrust it into the dish, he will die of hunger.’

  ‘And do you think that Allah does not know before whether the man will stretch out his hand or not?’

  ‘Undoubtedly Allah knows. And he also knows that if you will not sift this matter and stop the mouths of the liars, I will, though I am but a woman, for otherwise we may both perish.’

  ‘If they destroy me, yet they cannot take the kingdom from you, nor hurt you,’ said Khaled. ‘How then are you in danger? If I am slain you will then choose a husband, whose father’s name is known to them. They will be satisfied and you will be no worse off than before and possibly better. This is truth. I will therefore wait for the end.’

  ‘Who has put these words into your mouth, Khaled? For the thought is not in your heart. Moreover, if the tribes should rise up and overthrow you, they would not spare me, for I would fight against them with my hands and they would kill me.’

  ‘Why should you fight for me, since you do not love me? But this is folly. No one ever heard of a woman taking arms and fighting.’

  ‘I have heard of such deeds. And if I had not heard of them, others should through me, for I would be the first to do them.’

  ‘I think that so long as Khaled lives, Zehowah need not bear arms,’ said Khaled. ‘I will therefore go and call the chief men together and speak to them.’

  And so he did. When the principal officers who had remained in the city during the winter season were assembled in the kahwah, and had hung up their swords on the pegs and partaken of a refreshment, Khaled sent the slaves away, and spoke in a few words as was his manner.

  ‘Men of Riad, Aared and all Nejed,’ he said, ‘I regret that more of you are not present here, but a great number of sheikhs are still in the desert, and it cannot be helped. I desire to tell you that I have heard of a tale concerning me which is circulated from mouth to ear throughout Riad and the whole kingdom. This tale is untrue, a lie such as no honest man repeats even to his own wife at home in the harem. For it is said that I am not called Khaled, but perhaps Ali Hassan, or perhaps Ali Hussein, that I am a Shiyah, a wine-bibber and an idolatrous one who prays for the intercession of Ali, besides being a Persian and a robber. It is also said that I plot to deliver over the kingdom of Nejed to the Persians, though how this could be done I do not know, seeing that the Persians are a meal-faced people of white jackals who do not know how to ride a camel. These are all lies. I swear by Allah.’

  When the men heard these words, they looked stealthily one at another, to see who would answer Khaled, for they had all heard the story and most of them were inclined to believe it. Peace is the mother of evil-speaking, as garbage breeds flies in a corner, which afterwards fly into clean houses and men ask whence they come. But none of the chief men found anything to say at first, so that Khaled sat in silence a long time, waiting for some one to speak. He therefore turned to the one nearest to him, and addressed him.

  ‘Have you heard this tale?’ he inquired. ‘And if you have heard it do you believe it?’

  ‘I think, indeed, that I have heard something of the kind,’ answered the man. ‘But it was as the chattering of an uncertain vision in a dream, which rings in the ears for a moment while it is yet dark in the morning, but is forgotten when the sun rises. By the instrumentality of a just mind Allah caused that which entered at one ear to run out from the other as the rinsing of a water-skin.’

  ‘Good,’ answered Khaled. ‘Yet it is not well to rinse the brains with falsehoods. And you?’ he inquired, turning to the next. ‘Have you heard it also?’

  ‘Just lord, I have heard,’ replied this one. ‘But if I have believed, may my head be shaved with a red-hot razor having a jagged edge.’

  ‘This is well,’ Khaled said, and he questioned a third.

  ‘O Khaled!’ cried the man. ‘Is the milk sour, because the slave has imagined a lie saying, “I will say it is bad and then it will be given to me to drink”? Or is honey bitter because the cook has put salt in the sweetmeats? Or is it night because the woman has shut the door and the window, to keep out the sun?’

  The next also found an answer, having collected his thoughts while the others were speaking.

  ‘A certain man,’ said he, ‘kept sheep in Tabal Shammar, and the dog was with the sheep in the fold. Then two foxes came to the fold in the evening and one of them said to the man: “All dogs are wolves, for we have seen their like in the mountains, and your dog is also a wolf and will eat up your sheep. Make haste to kill him therefore and cast out his carcass.” And to the sheep the other fox said: “How many sheep hang by the heels at the butcher’s! And how many dogs live in sheepfolds! This is an evil world for innocent people.” And the sheep were at first persuaded, but presently the dog ran out and caught one of the foxes and broke his neck, and the man threw a stone at the other and hit him, so that he also died. Then the sheep said one to another: “The foxes have suffered justly, for they were liars and robbers and the dog and our master have protected us against them, which they would not have done had they desired our destruction.” And so are the people, O Khaled. For if you let the liars go unhurt the people will believe them, but if you destroy them the faith of the multitude will be turned again to you.’

  ‘This is a fable,’ said Khaled, ‘and it is not without truth. I am the sheep-dog and the people are the sheep. But in the name of Allah, which are the foxes?’

  Then he turned to another, an old man who was the Kadi, celebrated for his wisdom and for his religious teaching in the chief mosque.

  ‘I ask you last of all,’ said Khaled, ‘because you are the wisest, and when the wisest words are heard last they are most easily remembered. For we first put water into the lamp, and then oil to float upon the surface, and next the wick, and last of all we take a torch and light the lamp and the darkness disappears. Light our lamp, therefore, O Kadi, and let us see clearly.’

  ‘O Khaled,’ replied the Kadi, ‘I am old and have seen the world. You cannot destroy the tree by cutting off one or two of its branches. It is necessary to strike at the root. Now the root of this tree of lies which has grown up is this. Neither we nor the people know whence you are, nor what was your father’s name, and though I for my part do not impiously ask whence Allah takes the good gifts which he gives to men, there are many who are not satisfied, and who will go about in jealousy to make trouble until their questioning is answered. If you ask counsel of me, I say, tell us here present of what tribe you are, for we believe you a pure Bedouin like the best of us, and tell us your father’s name, and peace be upon him. We are men in authority and will speak to the people, and I will address them from the pulpit of the great mosque, and they will believe us. Then all will be ended, and the lies will be extinguished as the coals of an evening fire go out when the night frost descends upon the camp in winter. But if you will not tell us, yet I, for one, do not believe ill of you; and moreover you are lord, and we are vassals, so long as you are King and hold good and evil in your hand.’

  ‘So long as I am King,’ Khaled repeated. ‘And you think that if I do not tell my father’s name, I shall not be where I am for a long time.’

  ‘Allah is wise, and knows,’ answered the Kadi, but he would say nothing more.

  ‘This is plain speaking,’ said Khaled, ‘such as I like. But I might plainly take advantage of it. You desire to know my father’s name and whence I come. Then is it not easy for me to say that I come from a distant part of the Great Dahna? Is there a man in Nejed who has crossed the Red Desert? And if I
say that my father was Mohammed ibn Abd el Hamid ibn Abd el Latif, and so on to our father Ismaïl, upon whom be peace, shall any one deny that I speak truth? This is a very easy matter.’

  ‘So much the more will it be easy for us to satisfy the people,’ answered the Kadi.

  ‘No doubt. I will think of what you have said. And now, I pray you, partake of another refreshment and go in peace.’

  At this all the chief men looked one at the other again, for they saw that Khaled would not tell them what they wished to know. And those of them who had doubted the story before now began to believe it. But they held their peace, and presently made their salutation and took their swords from the wall and departed.

  Khaled then left the kahwah and returned to Zehowah in the harem.

  ‘I have told them that these tales are lies,’ he said, ‘but they do not believe me.’

  He repeated to Zehowah all that had been said, and she listened attentively, for she began to understand that there was danger not far off.

  ‘And I told them,’ he said at last, ‘that it would be as easy for me to invent names, as for them to hear them. Then they looked sideways each at the other and kept silent.’

  ‘This is a foolish thing which you have done,’ answered Zehowah. ‘They will now all believe that your father was an evildoer and that you yourself are no better. Otherwise, they will say, why should he wish to conceal anything? You should have told them the truth, whatever it is.’

  ‘You also wish to know it, I see,’ said Khaled, looking at Zehowah curiously. ‘But if I were to tell you, you would not believe me, I think, any more than they would.’

  Then Zehowah looked at him in her turn, but he could not understand the language of her eyes.

  ‘What is this secret of yours?’ she asked. ‘I would indeed like to hear it, and if you swear to me that it is true, by Allah, I will believe you. For you are a very truthful man, and not subtle.’