The Diva's Ruby

by F. Marion Crawford

  CHAPTER X

  The _Erinna_ was steaming quietly down the Channel in a flat calm, atthe lazy rate of twelve knots an hour, presumably in order to save hercoal, for she could run sixteen when her owner liked, and he was notusually fond of going slow. Though September was at hand, and Guernseywas already on the port quarter, the sea was motionless and not somuch as a cat's-paw stirred the still blue water; but the steamer'sown way made a pleasant draught that fanned the faces of Logotheti andBaraka as they lay in their long chairs under the double awningoutside the deck-house.

  The Tartar girl wore a skirt and jacket of dark blue yachting serge,which did not fit badly considering that they had been boughtready-made by Logotheti's man. She had little white tennis shoes onher feet, which were crossed one over the other on the deck-chair, butinstead of wearing a hat she had bound a dove-coloured motor-veil onher head by a single thick gold cord, in the Asiatic way, and the thinfolds hung down on each side, and lay on her shoulders, shading herface, and the breeze stirred them. Logotheti's valet had been sent outin a taximeter, provided with a few measurements and plenty of cash,and commissioned to buy everything that a girl who had nothing at allto wear, visible or invisible, could possibly need. He was alsoinstructed to find a maid who could speak Tartar, or at least alittle Turkish.

  After five hours he had come back with a heavy load of boxes of allshapes and sizes and the required maid. You can find anything in agreat city, if you know how to look for it, and he had discoveredthrough an agency a girl from Trebizonde who had been caught at twelveyears old by missionaries, brought to England and educated to go intoservice; she spoke English very prettily, and had not altogetherforgotten the _lingua franca_ of Asia. It was her first place, outsideof the retired missionary's house, where she had been brought up andtaught by a good old lady who had much to say about the heathen, andgave her to understand that all her deceased forefathers and relativeswere frying. As she could not quite believe this, and had not agrateful disposition, and was of an exceedingly inquiring turn ofmind, she was very glad to get away, and when she learned from thevalet that her mistress was a Tartar lady and a Musulman, and couldnot speak English, her delight was quite boundless; she even said afew unintelligible words, in a thoughtful tone, which did not sound atall like any Christian prayer or thanksgiving she had learned from themissionaries.

  Moreover, while Logotheti and Baraka were lying in their chairs by thedeck-house, she was telling the story of her life and explainingthings generally to the good-looking young second mate on the otherside of the ship.

  The consequence of her presence, however, was that Baraka was dressedwith great neatness and care, and looked very presentable, though herclothes were only ready-made things, bought by a man-servant, who hadonly her height and the size of her waist to guide him. Logothetiwatched her delicate, energetic profile, admiring the curves of herclosed lips, and the wilful turning up of her little chin. She wasmore than very pretty now, he thought, and he was quietly amused athis own audacity in taking her to sea alone with him, almost on theeve of his marriage. It was especially diverting to think of what theproper people would say if they knew it, and to contrast theintentions they would certainly attribute to him with the perfectlyhonourable ones he entertained.

  As for Baraka, it never occurred to her that she was not as safe withhim as she had been in her father's house in the little white town faraway, nearly three years ago; and besides, her steel bodkin with thesilver handle had been given back to her, and she could feel it in itsplace when she pressed her left hand to her side. But the little maidwho had been brought up by the missionaries took quite another pointof view, though this was not among the things she was explaining sofluently in her pretty English to the second mate.

  Logotheti had been first of all preoccupied about getting Baraka outof England without attracting attention, and then for her comfort andrecovery from the strain and suffering of the last few days. As forthat, she was like a healthy young animal, and as soon as she had achance she had fallen so sound asleep that she had not waked fortwelve hours. Logotheti's intention was to take her to Paris by aroundabout way, and establish her under some proper sort ofprotection. Margaret was still in Germany, but would soon return toFrance, and he had almost made up his mind to ask her advice, notdreaming that in such a case she could really deem anything he did anunpardonable offence. He had always laughed at the conventionalitiesof European life, and had paid very little heed to them when theystood in his way.

  He had been on deck a long time that day, but Baraka had only beenestablished in her chair a few minutes. As yet he had hardly talkedwith her of anything but the necessary preparations for the journey,and she had trusted him entirely, being so worn out with fatigue andbodily discomfort, that she was already half asleep when he had atlast brought her on board, late on the previous night. Before theyacht had sailed he had received Van Torp's telegram informing himthat Kralinsky was at Bayreuth; for his secretary had sat up till twoin the morning to telegraph him the latest news and forward anymessage that came, and Van Torp's had been amongst the number.

  Baraka turned her head a little towards him and smiled.

  'Kafar the Persian said well that you are a great man,' she said inher own language. 'Perhaps you are one of the greatest in the world. Ithink so. He told me you were very rich, and so did the Greekmerchants who came with me to France. When you would not buy the otherruby I thought they were mistaken, but now I see they were right.Where you are, there is gold, and men bow before you. You say: "SetBaraka free," and I am free. Also, you say: "Give her the ruby that ishers," and they give it, and her belongings, too, all clean and ingood order and nothing stolen. You are a king. Like a king, you have anew fire-ship of your own and an army of young men to do your bidding.They are cleaner and better dressed than the sailors on the Sultan'sfire-ships that lie in the Golden Horn, for I have seen them. They areas clean as the young effendis in London, in Paris! It is wonderful!You have not many on your ship, but you could have ten ships, all withsailors like these, and they would be all well washed. I like cleanpeople. Yes, you are a great man.'

  She turned her eyes away from him and gazed lazily at the still bluesea, having apparently said all she had to say. Logotheti was wellused to Asiatics and understood that her speech was partlyconventional and intended to convey that sort of flattery which isdear to the Oriental soul. Baraka knew perfectly well what a real kingwas, and the difference between a yacht and a man-of-war, and manyother things which she had learned in Constantinople. Primitivepeople, when they come from Asia, are not at all simple people, thoughthey are often very direct in pursuing what they want.

  'I have something of importance to tell you,' Logotheti said after apause.

  Baraka prepared herself against betraying surprise by letting her lidsdroop a little, but that was all.

  'Speak,' she answered. 'I desire knowledge more than gold.'

  'You are wise,' said the Greek gravely. 'No doubt you remember therich man Van Torp, for whom I gave you a letter, and whom you had seenon the day you were arrested.'

  'Van Torp.' Baraka pronounced the name distinctly, and nodded. 'Yes, Iremember him well. He knows where the man is whom I seek, and he wrotethe address for me. I have it. You will take me there in your ship,and I shall find him.'

  'If you find him, what shall you say to him?' Logotheti asked.

  'Few words. These perhaps: "You left me to die, but I am not dead, Iam here. Through me you are a rich, great man. The rubies are mymarriage portion, which you have taken. Now you must be my husband."That is all. Few words.'

  'It is your right,' Logotheti answered. 'But he will not marry you.'

  'Then he shall die,' replied Baraka, as quietly as if she were sayingthat he should go for a walk.

  'If you kill him, the laws of that country may take your life,'objected the Greek.

  'That will be my portion,' the girl answered, with profoundindifference.

  'You only have one life,' Logotheti observed. 'It is your
s to throwaway. But the man you seek is not in that country. Van Torp hastelegraphed me that he is much nearer. Nevertheless, if you mean tokill him, I will not take you to him, as I intended to do.'

  Baraka's face had changed, though she had been determined not tobetray surprise at anything he said; she turned to him, and fixed hereyes on his, and he saw her lashes quiver.

  'You will tell me where he is,' she said anxiously. 'If you will nottake me I will go alone with Spiro. I have been in many countries withno other help. I can go there also, where he is. You will tell me.'

  'Not if you mean to murder him,' said Logotheti, and she saw that hewas in earnest.

  'But if he will not be my husband, what can I do, if I do not killhim?' She asked the question in evident good faith.

  'If I were you, I should make him share the rubies and the money withyou, and then I would leave him to himself.'

  'But you do not understand,' Baraka protested. 'He is young, he isbeautiful, he is rich. He will take some other woman for his wife, ifI leave him. You see, he must die, there is no other way. If he willnot marry me, it is his portion. Why do you talk? Have I not comeacross the world from the Altai, by Samarkand and Tiflis, as far asEngland, to find him and marry him? Is it nothing that I have done, aTartar girl alone, with no friend but a bag of precious stones thatany strong thief might have taken from me? Is the danger nothing? Thetravel nothing? Is it nothing that I have gone about like a shamelessone, with my face uncovered, dressed in a man's clothes? That I havecut my hair, my beautiful black hair, is that as nothing too? That Ihave been in an English prison? That I have been called a thief? Ihave suffered all these things to find him, and if I come to him atlast, and he will not be my husband, shall he live and take anotherwoman? You are a great man, it is true. But you do not understand. Youare only a Frank, after all! That little maid you have brought for mewould understand me better, though she has been taught for six yearsby Christians. She is a good girl. She says that in all that time shehas never once forgotten to say the Fatiheh three times a day, and tosay "el hamdu illah" to herself after she has eaten! She wouldunderstand. I know she would. But you, never!'

  The exquisite little aquiline features wore a look of unutterablecontempt.

  'If I were you,' said Logotheti, smiling, 'I would not tell her whatyou are going to do.'

  'You see!' cried Baraka, almost angrily. 'You do not understand. Aservant! Shall I tell my heart to my handmaid, and my secret thoughtsto a hired man? I tell you, because you are a friend, though you haveno understanding of us. My father feeds many flocks, and has manybondmen and bondwomen, whom he beats when it pleases him, and can putto death if he likes. He also knows the mine of rubies, as his fatherdid before him, and when he desires gold he takes one to Tashkent, oreven to Samarkand, a long journey, and sells it to the Russians. He isa great man. If he would bring a camel bag full of precious stones toEurope he could be one of the greatest men in the world. And you thinkthat my father's daughter would open her heart's treasure to one ofher servants? I said well that you do not understand!'

  Logotheti looked quietly at the slim young thing in a ready-made blueserge frock, who said such things as a Lady Clara Vere de Vere wouldscarcely dare to say above her breath in these democratic days; and hewatched the noble little features, and the small white hands, that hadcome down to her through generations of chieftains, since the dayswhen the primeval shepherds of the world counted the stars in theplains of Kaf.

  He himself, with his long Greek descent, was an aristocrat to themarrow, and smiled at the claims of men who traced their families backto Crusaders. With the help of a legend or two and half a myth, hecould almost make himself a far descendant of the Tyndaridae. But whatwas that compared with the pedigree of the little thing in a blueserge frock? Her race went back to a time before Hesiod, before Homer,to a date that might be found in the annals of Egypt, but nowhere elsein all the dim traditions of human history.

  'No,' he said, after a long pause. 'I begin to understand. You had nottold me that your father was a great man, and that his sires beforehim had joined hand to hand, from the hand of Adam himself.'

  This polite speech, delivered in his best Tartar, though with sundryTurkish terminations and accents, somewhat mollified Baraka, and shepushed her little head backwards and upwards against the top of thedeck chair, as if she were drawing herself up with pride. Also, notbeing used to European skirts, she stuck out one tiny foot a littlefurther across the other, as she stretched herself, and sheindiscreetly showed a pale-yellow silk ankle, round which she couldhave easily made her thumb meet her second finger. Logotheti glancedat it.

  'You will never understand,' she said, but her tone had relented, andshe made a concession. 'If you will take me to him, and if he will notbe my husband, I will let Spiro kill him.'

  'That might be better,' Logotheti answered with extreme gravity, forhe was quite sure that Spiro would never kill anybody. 'If you willtake an oath which I shall dictate, and swear to let Spiro do it, Iwill take you to the man you seek.'

  'What must be, must be,' Baraka said in a tone of resignation. 'Whenhe is dead, Spiro can also kill me and take the rubies and the money.'

  'That would be a pity,' observed the Greek, thoughtfully.

  'Why a pity? It will be my portion. I will not kill myself becausethen I should go to hell-fire, but Spiro can do it very well. Whyshould I still live, then?'

  'Because you are young and beautiful and rich enough to be very happy.Do you never look at your face in the mirror? The eyes of Baraka arelike the pools of paradise, when the moon rose upon them the firsttime, her waist is as slender as a young willow sapling that bends tothe breath of a spring breeze, her mouth is a dark rose fromGulistan----'

  But Baraka interrupted him with a faint smile.

  'You speak emptiness,' she said quietly. 'What is the oath, that I mayswear it? Shall I take Allah, and the Prophet, and the Angel Israfilto witness that I will keep my word? Shall I prick my hand and let thedrops fall into your two hands that you may drink them? What shall Ido and say? I am ready.'

  'You must swear an oath that my fathers swore before there wereChristians or Musulmans in the world, when the old gods were stillgreat.'

  'Speak. I will repeat any words you like. Is it a very solemn oath?'

  'It is the most solemn that ever was sworn, for it is the oath of thegods themselves. I shall give it to you slowly, and you must try topronounce it right, word by word, holding out your hands, like this,with the palms downwards.'

  'I am ready,' said Baraka, doing as he bade her.

  He quoted in Greek the oath that Hypnos dictates to Hera in the_Iliad_, and Baraka repeated each word, pronouncing as well as shecould.

  'I swear by the inviolable water of the Styx, and I lay one hand uponthe all-nourishing earth, the other on the sparkling sea, that all thegods below may be our witnesses, even they that stand round aboutKronos. Thus I swear!'

  As he had anticipated, Baraka was much more impressed by theimportance of the words she did not understand than if she had boundherself by any oath familiar to her.

  'I am sorry,' she said, 'but what is done is done, and you would haveit so.'

  She pressed her hand gently to her left side and felt the long steelbodkin, and sighed regretfully.

  'You have sworn an oath that no man would dare to break,' saidLogotheti solemnly. 'A man would rather kill pigs on the graves of hisfather and his mother than break it.'

  'I shall keep my word. Only take me quickly where I would be.'

  Logotheti produced a whistle from his pocket and blew on it, and aquartermaster answered the call, and was sent for the captain, whocame in a few moments.

  'Head her about for Jersey and Carterets, Captain,' said the owner.'The sea is as flat as a board, and we will land there. You can go onto the Mediterranean without coaling, can you not?'

  The captain said he could coal at Gibraltar, if necessary.

  'Then take her to Naples, please, and wait for instructions.'

/>   Baraka understood nothing, but within two minutes she saw that theyacht was changing her course, for the afternoon sun was all at oncepouring in on the deck, just beyond the end of her chair. She wassatisfied, and nodded her approval.

  But she did not speak for a long time, paying no more attention toLogotheti's gaze than if he had not existed. No people in the worldcan remain perfectly motionless so long as Asiatics, perfectlyabsorbed in their own thoughts.

  To the Greek's art-loving nature it was pure delight to watch her.Never, since he had first met Margaret Donne, had he seen any woman oryoung girl who appealed to his sense of beauty as Baraka did, thoughthe impression she made on him was wholly different from that hereceived when Margaret was near.

  The Primadonna was on a large scale, robust, magnificently vital, aNike, even a young Hera; and sometimes, especially on the stage, shewas almost insolently handsome, rather than beautiful like Lady Maud.Baraka was an Artemis, virginal, high-bred; delicately modelled forgrace and speed rather than for reposeful beauty, for motion ratherthan for rest. It was true that the singer's walk was something todream of and write verses about, but Baraka's swift-gliding step wasthat of the Maiden Huntress in the chase, her attitude in rest was thepose of a watchful Diana, ready to spring up at a sound or a breath, afigure almost boyish in its elastic vigour, and yet deeply feminine inmeaning.

  Baraka once more turned her head without lifting it from the back ofthe deck-chair.

  'I am hungry and thirsty again,' she said gravely. 'I do notunderstand.'

  'What will you eat, and what will you drink?' Logotheti asked.

  She smiled and shook her head.

  'Anything that is good,' she said; 'but what I desire you have not inyour ship. I long for fat quails with Italian rice, and for fig-paste,and I desire a sherbet made with rose leaves, such as the merchant'swife and I used to drink at the Kaffedji's by the Galata Bridge, andsometimes when we went up the Sweet Waters in a caique on Friday. Butyou have not such things on your ship.'

  Logotheti smiled.

  'You forget that I am myself from Constantinople,' he said. 'It is nowthe season for fat quails in Italy, and they are sent alive to Londonand Paris, and there are many in my ship, waiting to be eaten. Thereis also fig-paste from the Stamboul confectioner near the end of theGalata Bridge, and preserved rose leaves with which to make a sherbet,and much ice; and you shall eat and drink the things you like best.Moreover, if there is anything else you long for, speak.'

  'You are scoffing at Baraka!' answered the slim thing in blue serge,with the air of a displeased fairy princess.

  'Not I. You shall see. We will have a table set here between us, withall the things you desire.'

  'Truly? And coffee too? Real coffee? Not the thin mud-broth of theFranks?'

  'Real coffee, in a real fildjan.'

  Baraka clapped her small white hands for pleasure.

  'You are indeed a very great man!' she cried. 'You are one of thekings!'

  At the sound of the clapping she had made, Logotheti's Greek stewardappeared in a silver-laced blue jacket and a fez.

  'He comes because you clapped your hands,' Logotheti said, with asmile.

  Baraka laughed softly.

  'We are not in your ship,' she said. 'We are in Constantinople! I amhappy.' The smile faded quickly and her dark lashes drooped. 'It is apity,' she added, very low, and her left hand felt the long steelbodkin through her dress.

  The steward knew Turkish, but did not understand all she said in herown tongue; and besides, his master was already ordering an unusualluncheon, in Greek, which disturbed even his Eastern faculty ofhearing separately with each ear things said in different languages.

  Baraka was busy with her own thoughts again, and paid no moreattention to her companion, until the steward came back after a fewminutes bringing a low round table which he placed between the twochairs. He disappeared again and returned immediately with a salver onwhich there were two small cups of steaming Turkish coffee, each inits silver filigree stand, and two tall glasses of sherbet, of abeautiful pale rose colour.

  Baraka turned on her chair with a look of pleasure, tasted the lighthot foam of the coffee, and then began to drink slowly with enjoymentthat increased visibly with every sip.

  'It is real coffee,' she said, looking up at Logotheti. 'It is madewith the beans of Arabia that are picked out one by one for theSheikhs themselves before the coffee is sold to the Indian princes.The unripe and broken beans that are left are sold to the great Pashasin Constantinople! And that is all there is of it, for the Persianmerchant explained all to me, and I know. But how you have got thecoffee of the Sheikhs, I know not. You are a very great man.'

  'The gates of the pleasant places of this world are all locked, andthe keys are of gold,' observed Logotheti, who could quote Asiaticproverbs by the dozen, when he liked. 'But the doors of Hades standalways open,' he added, suddenly following a Greek thought, 'and fromwheresoever men are, the way that leads to them is but one.'

  Baraka had tasted the sherbet, which interested her more than hisphilosophical reflexions.

  'This also is delicious,' she said, 'but in Stamboul even a poor manmay have it for a few paras.'

  'And good water from the fountain for nothing,' returned Logotheti.

  There was silence again as she leaned back, sufficiently satisfied towait another hour for the fat quails, the Italian rice, and thefig-paste, to which she was looking forward. And the yacht moved on ather leisurely twelve-knot speed, through the flat calm of the latesummer sea, while an atmosphere of bodily peace and comfort gatheredround Baraka like a delicate mist that hid the future and softened thepast.

  By and by, when she had eaten the fat quail and the Italian rice, andthen the fig-paste, and had drunk more sherbet of rose leaves, andmore coffee, but none of these things in any excess, that perfectpeace came upon her which none but Asiatics can feel, and which wecannot understand; and they call it Kef, and desire it more than anyother condition of their inner and outer selves; but there is notranslating of that word.

  It is the inexplicable state of the cat when it folds its fore-paw in,and is so quiet and happy that it can hardly purr, but only blinksmildly once in two or three minutes. Logotheti knew the signs of it,though he had never really felt it himself, and he knew very well thatits presence has the power to deaden all purpose and active will inthose who enjoy it. The sole object of taking opium is to produce itartificially, which is never quite possible, for with mostopium-smokers or opium-eaters the state of peace turns into stupor atthe very moment when it is about to become consciously beatific.

  He understood that this wonderful barbarian girl, who had shown suchcourage, such irresistible energy, such unchanging determination inthe search that had lasted more than two years, was temporarilyparalysed for any purpose of action by the atmosphere with which hewas surrounding her. She would come to herself again, and be as muchawake, as determined, and as brave as ever, but she was quiescent now,and the mere thought of effort would be really painful. Perhaps no onewho has not lived in Asia can quite understand that.

  Logotheti took out his notebook, which had a small calendar with a fewlines for each day in the year, and he began to count days andcalculate dates; for when he had expected to go to Bayreuth with thePrimadonna he had found out all about the performances, and he knewhow long she meant to stay.

  His calendar told him that this was the off-day, between the secondand third representations of _Parsifal_, and that Margaret had herrooms at the hotel for another week. He would allow two days more forher to reach Versailles and rest from the journey before she wouldwish to see him; and as he thought she had treated him rather badly innot letting him go with her, because he was not enough of a Wagnerian,he intended to keep her waiting even a day or two longer, on thesometimes mistaken theory that it is better to make a woman impatientthan to forestall her wishes before she has had time to change hermind.

  Besides, Van Torp's telegram showed that he was in Bayreuth, andLogotheti flatt
ered himself that the more Margaret saw of theAmerican, the more anxious she would be to see her accepted adorer. Itwas her own fault, since Logotheti might have been with her instead.

  The result of his calculations was that he had at least ten daysbefore him, and that as he was not at all bored by the little Tartarlady in blue serge, it was quite useless to put her ashore atCarterets and take her to Paris by that way. The idea of spendingeight or nine hours alone in a hot and dirty railway carriage, whileshe and her maid passed the night in another compartment, wasextremely dreary; and besides, he had not at all made up his mind whatto do with her, and it would probably end in his taking her to his ownhouse. Margaret would have some right to resent that; but as for thetrip in the yacht, she need never know anything about it. The girl wasreally as safe with him as any girl could be with her own brother, andso long as no one knew that she was with him, nothing else mattered.Furthermore, he was good enough to be convinced that if she were letloose in Europe by herself, with plenty of money, boundless courage,and such a clever courier as Spiro seemed to be, she would certainlyfind Kralinsky at last and murder him, regardless of having sworn bythe inviolable water of the Styx. Lastly, he saw that she was atpresent in that state of Asiatic peace in which it was perfectlyindifferent to her what happened, provided that she were notdisturbed.

  He rose quietly and went aft. Though she was awake she scarcelynoticed that he had left her, and merely opened and shut her eyestwice, like the happy cat already spoken of. She was not aware thatthe yacht changed her course again, though it was pleasant not to havethe reflexion from the sea in her eyes any longer; if Logotheti hadtold her that he was heading to seaward of Ushant instead of forJersey and Carterets, she would not have understood, nor cared if shehad, and would have been annoyed at being disturbed by the sound ofhis voice.

  It was pure bliss to lie there without a want, a thought, or a memory.An imaginative European might fancy that she had waking dreams andvisions in the summer air; that she saw again the small white town,the foot-hills, the broad pastures below, the vastness of Altaiabove, the uncounted flocks, the distant moving herds, the eveningsunlight on the walls of her father's house; or that she lived overagain those mortal hours of imprisonment in the rocky hollow, andlooked into the steel-bright eyes of the man who would not love herand saw the tall figure of Saaed already dead, bending forward from theledge and pitching headlong to the sand.

  Not at all. She saw none of these things. She was quiescentlyblissful; the mysterious Kef was on her, and the world stood still inthe lazy enchantment--the yacht was not moving, the sun was notsinking westwards, her pulse was not beating, she was scarcelybreathing, in her own self she was the very self of peace, motionlessin an immeasurable stillness.

  When the sky reddened at evening Logotheti was again in his chair,reading. She heard six bells struck softly, the first sound she hadnoticed in four hours, and she did not know what they meant; perhapsit was six o'clock _alla Franca_, as she would have called it; no onecould understand European time, which was one in Constantinople,another in Paris, and another in England. Besides, it made nodifference what time it was; but Kef was departing from her--was gonealready, and the world was moving again--not at all in an unpleasantor disturbing way, but moving nevertheless.

  'When shall we reach that place?' she asked lazily, and she turned herface to Logotheti.

  'Allah knows,' he answered gravely, and he laid his book on his knees.

  She had been so well used to hearing that answer to all sorts ofquestions since she had been a child that she thought nothing of it,and waited awhile before speaking again. Her eyes studied the man'sface almost unconsciously. He now wore a fez instead of a yachtingcap, and it changed his expression. He no longer looked in the leastlike a European. The handsome red felt glowed like blood in theevening light, and the long black silk tassel hung backwards with adashing air. There was something about him that reminded Baraka ofSaaed, and Saaed had been a handsome man, even in her eyes, until thetraveller had come to her father's house with his blue eyes and goldenbeard. But Saaed had only seen her unveiled face once, and that was thelast thing he saw when the ball from the Mauser went through hisforehead.

  'I mean,' she asked after some time, 'shall we be there to-morrow? orthe next day? I see no land on this side; is there any on the other?'

  'No,' Logotheti answered, 'there is no land near. Perhaps, far off, wemight see a small island.'

  'Is that the place?' Baraka began to be interested at last.

  'The place is far away. You must have patience. All hurry comes fromSatan.'

  'I am not impatient,' the girl answered mildly. 'I am glad to rest inyour ship, for I was very tired, more tired than I ever was when I wasa child, and used to climb up the foot-hills to see Altai better. Itis good to be in your ship for a while, and after that, what shall be,will be. It is Allah that knows.'

  'That is the truth,' responded the Greek. 'Allah knows. I said so justnow. But I will tell you what I have decided, if you will listen.'

  'I listen.'

  'It is better that you should rest several days after all yourweariness, and the man you seek will not run away, for he does notknow you are so near.'

  'But he may take another woman,' Baraka objected, growing earnest atonce. 'Perhaps he has already! Then there will be two instead of one.'

  'Spiro,' said Logotheti, with perfect truth, 'would as soon kill twoas one, I am sure, for he is a good servant. It will be the same tohim. You call me a great man and a king; I am not a king, for I haveno kingdom, though some kingdoms would like to have as muchready-money as I. But here, on the ship, I am the master, not onlybecause it is mine, and because I choose to command, but because themen are bound by English law to obey me; and if they should refuse andoverpower me, and take my ship where I did not wish to go, the laws ofall nations would give me the right to put them all into prison atonce, for a long time. Therefore when I say, "Go to a certain place,"they take the ship there, according to their knowledge, for they aretrained to that business and can guide the vessel towards any place inthe world, though they cannot see land till they reach it. Do youunderstand all these things?'

  'I understand,' Baraka answered, smiling. 'But I am not bound to obeyyou, and at least I can beg you to do what I ask, and I think you willdo it.'

  Her voice grew suddenly soft, and almost tender, for though she wasonly a Tartar girl, and very young and slim, she was a woman. Eve hadnot had long experience of talking when she explained to Adam theproperties of apples.

  Logotheti answered her smile and her tone.

  'I shall do what you ask of me, but I shall do it slowly rather thanquickly, because that will be better for you in the end. If we hadgone on as we were going, we should have got to land to-night, but toa wretched little town from which we should have had to take a nighttrain, hot and dirty and dusty, all the way to Paris. That would nothelp you to rest, would it?'

  'Oh, no! I wish to sleep again in your ship, once, twice, till Icannot sleep any more. Then you will take me to the place.'

  'That is what you shall do. To that end I gave orders this afternoon.'

  'You are wise, as well as great,' Baraka said.

  She let her feet slip down to the deck, and she sat on the side of thechair towards Logotheti, looking at her small white tennis-shoes,which had turned a golden pink in the evening reflexions, and shethoughtfully settled her serge skirt over her slim yellow silk ankles,almost as a good many European girls would always do if they did notso often forget it.

  She rose at last, and went and looked over the rail at the violet sea.It is not often that the Atlantic Ocean is in such a heavenly temperso near the Bay of Biscay. Logotheti got out of his chair and came andstood beside her.

  'Is this sea always so still?' she asked.

  She was gazing at the melting colours, from the dark blue, spatteredwith white foam, under the yacht's side, to the deep violet beyond,and further to the wine-purple and the heliotrope and the horizonmelting up to the eastern
sky.

  Logotheti told her that such days came very rarely, even in summer,and that Allah had doubtless sent this one for her especial benefit.But she only laughed.

  'Allah is great, but he does nothing where there are English people,'she observed, and Logotheti laughed in his turn.

  They left the rail and walked slowly forward, side by side, withoutspeaking; and Logotheti told himself how utterly happy he should be ifBaraka could turn into Margaret and be walking with him there; yetsomething answered him that since she was not by his side he was notto be pitied for the company of a lovely Tartar girl whose language hecould understand and even speak tolerably; and when the first voiceobserved rather drily that Margaret would surely think that he oughtto feel very miserable, the second voice told him to take the goodsthe gods sent him and be grateful; and this little antiphone of Ormuzdand Ahriman went on for some time, till it occurred to him to stop theduo by explaining to Baraka how a European girl would probably slipher arm, or at least her hand, through the arm of the man with whomshe was walking on the deck of a yacht, because there was generally alittle motion at sea, and she would like to steady herself; and whenthere was none, there ought to be, and she would do the same thing byforce of habit. But Baraka looked at such behaviour quite differently.

  'That would be a sort of dance,' she said. 'I am not a dancing girl! Ihave seen men and women dancing together, both Russians in Samarkandand other people in France. It is disgusting. I would rather gounveiled among my own people!'

  'Which may Allah forbid!' answered Logotheti devoutly. 'But, as yousay, where there are Englishmen, Allah does nothing; the women gowithout veils, and the boys and girls dance together.'

  'I have done worse,' said Baraka, 'for I have dressed as a man, and ifa woman did that among my people she would be stoned to death and notburied. My people will never know what I have done since I got awayfrom them alive. But he thought he was leaving me there to die!'

  'Surely. I cannot see why you wish to marry a man who robbed you andtried to compass your death! I can understand that you should dream ofkilling him, and he deserves to be burnt alive, but why you shouldwish to marry him is known to the wisdom of the blessed ones!'

  'You never saw him,' Baraka answered with perfect simplicity. 'He is abeautiful man; his beard is like the rays of the morning sun on a ripecornfield. His eyes are bright as an eagle's, but blue as sapphires.He is much taller and bigger and stronger than you are. Do you not seewhy I want him for a husband? Why did he not desire me for his wife?Am I crooked, am I blinded by the smallpox, or have I six fingers onboth hands and a hump on my shoulder like the Witch of Altai? Was myportion a cotton shift, one brass bangle and a horn comb for my hair?I gave him the riches of the world to take me, and he would not! I donot understand. Am I an evil sight in a man's eyes? Tell me the truth,for you are a friend!'

  'You are good to see,' Logotheti answered, stopping and pretending toexamine her face critically as she stood still and faced him. 'I wastelling you what I thought of you before luncheon, I think, but yousaid I spoke "emptiness," so I stopped.'

  'I do not desire you to speak for yourself,' returned Baraka. 'I wishyou to speak for any man, since I go about unveiled and any man maysee me. What would they say in the street if they saw me now, as awoman? That is what I must know, for he is a Frank, and he will judgeme as the Franks judge when he sees me! What will he say?'

  'Shall I speak as a Frank? Or as they speak in Constantinople?'

  'Speak as he would speak, I pray. But speak the truth.'

  'I take Allah to witness that I speak the truth,' Logotheti answered.'If I had never seen you, and if I were walking in the Great Garden inLondon and I met you by the bank of the river, I should say that youwere the prettiest dark girl in England, but that I should like to seeyou in a beautiful Feringhi hat and the best frock that could be madein Paris.'

  Baraka's face was troubled, and she looked into his eyes anxiously.

  'I understand,' she said. 'Before I meet him I must have more clothes,many beautiful new dresses. It was shameless, but it was easy to dressas a man, after I had learned, for it was always the same--thedifference was three buttons--or four buttons, or a high hat or alittle hat; not much. Also the Feringhi men button their garments asthe Musulmans do, the left over the right, but I often see theirwomen's coats buttoned like a Hindu's. Why is this? Have the womenanother religion than the men? It is very strange!'

  Logotheti laughed, for he had really never noticed the rather singularfact which had struck the born Asiatic at once.

  'But this woman's dressing is very difficult to learn,' Baraka wenton, leaning back upon the rail with both elbows, and sticking out herlittle white shoes close together. 'Without the girl Maggy whom youhave found for me--but her real name is Gula, and she is a goodMusulman--without her, Allah knows what I should do! I could not puton these things for myself; alone, I cannot take them off. When I waslike a man, buttons! Two, three, four, twenty--what did it matter? Allthe same way and soon done! But now, I cannot tell what I am made of.Allah knows and sees what I am made of. Hooks, eyes, strings, littlebits one way, little bits the other way, like the rigging ofships--those Turkish ships with many small sails that go up theBosphorus, you remember? And it is all behind, as if one had nofront! Gula knows how it is done. But if I were alone, without herhelp, Allah is my witness, I would tie the things all round medecently and sit very still for fear they should come off! That iswhat I should do!

  The Greek thought her extremely amusing. She punctuated herexplanations with small gestures indicative of her ignorance andhelplessness.

  'You will soon grow used to it,' he said. 'But you must get somepretty things in Paris before you go to meet the man. It would also bebetter to let your hair grow long before meeting him, for it is hardto wear the hats of the Feringhi ladies without hair.'

  'I cannot wait so long as that. Only to get pretty dresses, only solong! I will spend a thousand pounds or two--is that enough? I havemuch money in Paris; I can give more.'

  'You can get a good many things for a thousand pounds, even in Paris,'Logotheti answered.

  Baraka laughed.

  'It will not be what I paid for the first clothes after I ran away,'she said. 'I did not know then what the stones were worth! A littleruby to one woman for a shift and an over-tunic, a little ruby toanother for a pair of shoes, a little ruby for a veil and ahead-blanket, all little rubies! For each thing one! I did not know;the women did not know. But at Samarkand I sold one for money to agood Persian merchant, and what he gave me was enough for the journey,for me and the old woman servant I hired there, till we got toTiflis; for the Persian merchants everywhere gave me letters from oneto another, and their wives took me in, or I should have been robbed.That is how I reached Stamboul after many, many months, more than ayear. The Persian merchants are good men. All fear them, because theyare wise in their dealings, but they are honest men. They do not lie,but they are silent and shake their heads, and you must guess whatthey mean; and if you do not guess right, that is your fault, nottheirs. Why should they speak when they can hold their peace? But thisis all emptiness! We must talk of the fine dresses I must buy inParis, and of what I must put on my head. The barbers in Paris sellwigs. I have seen them in the windows, very well made, of all colours,even of the Khenna colour. I shall wear a wig, so that the beautifulFeringhi hat will stay on. I shall perhaps wear a Khenna-colouredwig.'

  'I should not advise a wig,' said Logotheti gravely, 'certainly notone of that dye.'

  'You know, and you are a friend. When I feel rested we will go toParis, and you shall take me to all the richest shops and tell them inFrench what I want. Will you?'

  'I shall do all I can to help you,' answered the Greek, wondering whatwould happen if his friends met him piloting a lovely barbarian aboutbetween the smartest linendraper's and the most fashionabledressmaker's establishment in the Rue de la Paix.

  They had watched the sun set, and the clear twilight glow was in thecloudless sky and on the violet
sea. Not a sound disturbed thestillness, except the smooth wash of the water along the yacht's side.At her leisurely three-quarters speed the engines ran noiselessly andthe twin screws turned well below the water-line in the flat calm. Thewatch below was at supper, and the captain was just then working asunset amplitude in the chart-room to make quite sure of his deviationon the new course; for he was a careful navigator, and had a propercontempt for any master who trusted another man's adjustment of hiscompasses.

  Baraka drew one end of her veil round her throat and across her mouthand over to the other side of her face, so that her features werecovered almost as by a real yashmak. The action was well-nighunconscious, for until she had left Constantinople she had never gonewith her face uncovered, except for a short time, of necessity, aftershe had begun her long journey, almost without clothes to cover her,not to speak of a veil. But the sensation of being screened from men'ssight came back pleasantly as she stood there; for the Greek was muchmore like her own people than the French or English, and he spoke herlanguage, and to be with him was not like being with Mr. Van Torp, orwalking in the streets of London and Paris.

  The veil brought back suddenly the sense of real power that theEastern woman has, and of real security in her perpetual disguise,which every man must respect on pain of being torn to pieces by hisfellows. Reams of trash have been written about the inferior positionof women in the East; but there, more than anywhere else in the world,they rule and have their will. Their domination there never had aparallel in Europe but once, and that was in the heyday of the SecondFrench Empire, when a great nation was almost destroyed to please ascore of smart women.

  Veiled as she was, Baraka turned to Logotheti, who started slightlyand then laughed; for he had not been watching her, and the effect ofthe improvised yashmak was sudden and striking. He made the Orientalsalutation in three movements, touching his heart, his lips, and hisforehead with his right hand.

  'Peace be with you, Hanum Effendim!' he said, as if he were greeting aTurkish lady who had just appeared beside him.

  'Peace, Effendim,' answered Baraka, with a light little laugh; butafter a moment she went on, and her voice had changed. 'It is likeConstantinople,' she said, 'and I am happy here--and it is a pity.'

  Logotheti thought he heard her sigh softly behind her veil, and shedrew it still more closely to her face with her little ungloved hand,and rested one elbow on the rail, gazing out at the twilight glow. Inall his recollections of many seas, Logotheti did not remember such aclear and peaceful evening; there was a spell on the ocean, and it wasnot the sullen, disquieting calm that often comes before a West Indiancyclone or an ocean storm, but rather that fair sleep that sometimesfalls upon the sea and lasts many days, making men wonder idly whetherthe weather will ever break again.

  The two dined on deck, with shaded lights, but screened from thedraught of the ship's way. The evening was cool, and the little maidhad dressed Baraka in a way that much disturbed her, for her taperarms were bare to the elbows, and the pretty little ready-made Frenchdress was open at her ivory neck, and the skirt fitted so closely thatshe almost fancied herself in man's clothes again. But on her head shewould only wear the large veil, confined by a bit of gold cord, andshe drew one fold under her chin, and threw it over the oppositeshoulder, to be quite covered; and she was glad when she felt cold,and could wrap herself in the wide travelling cloak they had boughtfor her, and yet not seem to do anything contrary to the customs of areal Feringhi lady.

  "The two dined on deck."]