The Weavers, Complete - Gilbert Parker
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He turned with a calm face to the door behind which sat the displaced
favourite of the Prince, his mind at rest, the trouble gone out of his
eyes.
"Uncle Benn! Uncle Benn!" he said to himself, with a warmth at his heart
as he opened the door and stepped inside.
Nahoum sat sipping coffee. A cigarette was between his fingers. He
touched his hand to his forehead and his breast as David closed the door
and hung his hat upon a nail. David's servant, Mahommed Hassan, whom he
had had since first he came to Egypt, was gliding from the room--a large,
square-shouldered fellow of over six feet, dressed in a plain blue yelek,
but on his head the green turban of one who had done a pilgrimage to
Mecca. Nahoum waved a hand after Mahommed and said:
"Whence came thy servant sadat?"
"He was my guide to Cairo. I picked him from the street."
Nahoum smiled. There was no malice in the smile, only, as it might seem,
a frank humour. "Ah, your Excellency used independent judgment. Thou art
a judge of men. But does it make any difference that the man is a thief
and a murderer--a murderer?"
David's eyes darkened, as they were wont to do when he was moved or
shocked.
"Shall one only deal, then, with those who have neither stolen nor
slain--is that the rule of the just in Egypt?"
Nahoum raised his eyes to the ceiling as though in amiable inquiry, and
began to finger a string of beads as a nun might tell her paternosters.
"If that were the rule," he answered, after a moment, "how should any man
be served in Egypt? Hereabouts is a man's life held cheap, else I had not
been thy guest to-night; and Kaid's Palace itself would be empty, if
every man in it must be honest. But it is the custom of the place for
political errors to be punished by a hidden hand; we do not call it
murder."
"What is murder, friend?"
"It is such a crime as that of Mahommed yonder, who killed--"
David interposed. "I do not wish to know his crime. That is no affair
between thee and me."
Nahoum fingered his beads meditatively. "It was an affair of the
housetops in his town of Manfaloot. I have only mentioned it because I
know what view the English take of killing, and how set thou art to have
thy household above reproach, as is meet in a Christian home. So, I took
it, would be thy mind--which Heaven fill with light for Egypt's
sake!--that thou wouldst have none about thee who were not above
reproach, neither liars, nor thieves, nor murderers."
"But thee would serve with me, friend," rejoined David quietly. "Thee has
men's lives against thy account."
"Else had mine been against their account."
"Was it not so with Mahommed? If so, according to the custom of the land,
then Mahommed is as immune as thou art."
"Saadat, like thee I am a Christian, yet am I also Oriental, and what is
crime with one race is none with another. At the Palace two days past
thou saidst thou hadst never killed a man; and I know that thy religion
condemns killing even in war. Yet in Egypt thou wilt kill, or thou shalt
thyself be killed, and thy aims will come to naught. When, as thou
wouldst say, thou hast sinned, hast taken a man's life, then thou wilt
understand. Thou wilt keep this fellow Mahommed, then?"
"I understand, and I will keep him."
"Surely thy heart is large and thy mind great. It moveth above small
things. Thou dost not seek riches here?"
"I have enough; my wants are few."
"There is no precedent for one in office to withhold his hand from profit
and backsheesh."
"Shall we not try to make a precedent?"
"Truthfulness will be desolate--like a bird blown to sea, beating 'gainst
its doom."
"Truth will find an island in the sea."
"If Egypt is that sea, Saadat, there is no island."
David came over close to Nahoum, and looked him in the eyes.
"Surely I can speak to thee, friend, as to one understanding. Thou art a
Christian--of the ancient fold. Out of the East came the light. Thy
Church has preserved the faith. It is still like a lamp in the mist and
the cloud in the East. Thou saidst but now that thy heart was with my
purpose. Shall the truth that I would practise here not find an island in
this sea--and shall it not be the soul of Nahoum Pasha?"
"Have I not given my word? Nay, then, I swear it by the tomb of my
brother, whom Death met in the highway, and because he loved the sun, and
the talk of men, and the ways of women, rashly smote him out of the
garden of life into the void. Even by his tomb I swear it."
"Hast thou, then, such malice against Death? These things cannot happen
save by the will of God."
"And by the hand of man. But I have no cause for revenge. Foorgat died in
his sleep like a child. Yet if it had been the hand of man, Prince Kaid
or any other, I would not have held my hand until I had a life for his."
"Thou art a Christian, yet thou wouldst meet one wrong by another?"
"I am an Oriental." Then, with a sudden change of manner, he added: "But
thou hast a Christianity the like of which I have never seen. I will
learn of thee, Saadat, and thou shalt learn of me also many things which
I know. They will help thee to understand Egypt and the place where thou
wilt be set--if so be my life is saved, and by thy hand."
Mahommed entered, and came to David. "Where wilt thou sleep, Saadat?" he
asked.
"The pasha will sleep yonder," David replied, pointing to another room.
"I will sleep here." He laid a hand upon the couch where he sat.
Nahoum rose and, salaaming, followed Mahommed to the other room.
In a few moments the house was still, and remained so for hours. Just
before dawn the curtain of Nahoum's room was drawn aside, the Armenian
entered stealthily, and moved a step towards the couch where David lay.
Suddenly he was stopped by a sound. He glanced towards a corner near
David's feet. There sat Mahommed watching, a neboot of dom-wood across
his knees.
Their eyes remained fixed upon each other for a moment. Then Nahoum
passed back into his bedroom as stealthily as he had come.
Mahommed looked closely at David. He lay with an arm thrown over his
head, resting softly, a moisture on his forehead as on that of a sleeping
child.
"Saadat! Saadat!" said Mahommed softly to the sleeping figure, scarcely
above his breath, and then with his eyes upon the curtained room
opposite, began to whisper words from the Koran:
"In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful--"
CHAPTER XI
AGAINST THE HOUR OF MIDNIGHT
Achmet the Ropemaker was ill at ease. He had been set a task in which he
had failed. The bright Cairene sun starkly glittering on the French
chandeliers and Viennese mirrors, and beating on the brass trays and
braziers by the window, irritated him. He watched the flies on the wall
abstractedly; he listened to the early peripatetic salesmen crying their
wares in the streets leading to the Palace; he stroked his cadaverous
cheek with yellow fingers; he listened anxiously for a footstep.
Presently he straightened himself up, and his fingers ran down the front
of his coat to make sure that it was buttoned from top to bottom. He grew
a little paler. He was less stoical and apathetic than most Egyptians.
Also he was absurdly vain, and he knew that his vanity would receive
rough usage.
Now the door swung open, and a portly figure entered quickly. For so
large a man Prince Kaid was light and subtle in his movements. His face
was mobile, his eye keen and human.
Achmet salaamed low. "The gardens of the First Heaven be thine, and the
uttermost joy, Effendina," he said elaborately.
"A thousand colours to the rainbow of thy happiness," answered Kaid
mechanically, and seated himself cross-legged on a divan, taking a
narghileh from the black slave who had glided ghostlike behind him.
"What hour didst thou find him? Where hast thou placed him?" he added,
after a moment.
Achmet salaamed once more. "I have burrowed without ceasing, but the
holes are empty, Effendina," he returned, abjectly and nervously.
He had need to be concerned. The reply was full of amazement and anger.
"Thou hast not found him? Thou hast not brought Nahoum to me?" Kaid's
eyes were growing reddish; no good sign for those around him, for any
that crossed him or his purposes.
"A hundred eyes failed to search him out. Ten thousand piastres did not
find him; the kourbash did not reveal him."
Kaid's frown grew heavier. "Thou shalt bring Nahoum to me by midnight
to-morrow!"
"But if he has escaped, Effendina?" Achmet asked desperately. He had a
peasant's blood; fear of power was ingrained.
"What was thy business but to prevent escape? Son of a Nile crocodile, if
he has escaped, thou too shalt escape from Egypt--into Fazougli. Fool,
Nahoum is no coward. He would remain. He is in Egypt."
"If he be in Egypt, I will find him, Effendina. Have I ever failed? When
thou hast pointed, have I not brought? Have there not been many,
Effendina? Should I not bring Nahoum, who has held over our heads the
rod?"
Kaid looked at him meditatively, and gave no answer to the question. "He
reached too far," he muttered. "Egypt has one master only."
The door opened softly and the black slave stole in. His lips moved, but
scarce a sound travelled across the room. Kaid understood, and made a
gesture. An instant afterwards the vast figure of Higli Pasha bulked into
the room. Again there were elaborate salutations and salaams, and Kaid
presently said:
"Foorgat?"
"Effendina," answered High, "it is not known how he died. He was in this
Palace alive at night. In the morning he was found in bed at his own
home."
"There was no wound?"
"None, Effendina."
"The thong?"
"There was no mark, Effendina."
"Poison?"
"There was no sign, Effendina."
"Diamond-dust?"
"Impossible, Effendina. There was not time. He was alive and well here at
the Palace at eleven, and--" Kaid made an impatient gesture. "By the
stone in the Kaabah, but it is not reasonable that Foorgat should die in
his bed like a babe and sleep himself into heaven! Fate meant him for a
violent end; but ere that came there was work to do for me. He had a gift
for scenting treason--and he had treasure." His eyes shut and opened
again with a look not pleasant to see. "But since it was that he must die
so soon, then the loan he promised must now be a gift from the dead, if
he be dead, if he be not shamming. Foorgat was a dire jester."
"But now it is no jest, Effendina. He is in his grave."
"In his grave! Bismillah! In his grave, dost thou say?"
High's voice quavered. "Yesterday before sunset, Effendina. By Nahoum's
orders."
"I ordered the burial for to-day. By the gates of hell, but who shall
disobey me!"
"He was already buried when the Effendina's orders came," High pleaded
anxiously.
"Nahoum should have been taken yesterday," he rejoined, with malice in
his eyes.
"If I had received the orders of the Effendina on the night when the
Effendina dismissed Nahoum--" Achmet said softly, and broke off.
"A curse upon thine eyes that did not see thy duty!" Kaid replied
gloomily. Then he turned to High. "My seal has been put upon Foorgat's
doors? His treasure-places have been found? The courts have been
commanded as to his estate, the banks--"
"It was too late, Effendina," replied High hopelessly. Kaid got to his
feet slowly, rage possessing him. "Too late! Who makes it too late when I
command?"
"When Foorgat was found dead, Nahoum at once seized the palace and the
treasures. Then he went to the courts and to the holy men, and claimed
succession. That was while it was yet early morning. Then he instructed
the banks. The banks hold Foorgat's fortune against us, Effendina."
"Foorgat had turned Mahommedan. Nahoum is a Christian. My will is law.
Shall a Christian dog inherit from a true believer? The courts, the Wakfs
shall obey me. And thou, son of a burnt father, shalt find Nahoum! Kaid
shall not be cheated. Foorgat pledged the loan. It is mine. Allah scorch
thine eyes!" he added fiercely to Achmet, "but thou shalt find this
Christian gentleman, Nahoum."
Suddenly, with a motion of disgust, he sat down, and taking the stem of
the narghileh, puffed vigorously in silence. Presently in a red fury he
cried: "Go--go--go, and bring me back by midnight Nahoum, and Foorgat's
treasures, to the last piastre. Let every soldier be a spy, if thine own
spies fail."
As they turned to go, the door opened again, the black slave appeared,
and ushered David into the room. David salaamed, but not low, and stood
still.
On the instant Kaid changed, The rage left his face. He leaned forward
eagerly, the cruel and ugly look faded slowly from his eyes.
"May thy days of life be as a river with sands of gold, effendi," he said
gently. He had a voice like music. "May the sun shine in thy heart and
fruits of wisdom flourish there, Effendina," answered David quietly. He
saluted the others gravely, and his eyes rested upon Achmet in a way
which Higli Pasha noted for subsequent gossip.
Kaid pulled at his narghileh for a moment, mumbling good-humouredly to
himself and watching the smoke reel away; then, with half-shut eyes, he
said to David: "Am I master in Egypt or no, effendi?"
"In ruling this people the Prince of Egypt stands alone," answered David.
"There is no one between him and the people. There is no Parliament."
"It is in my hand, then, to give or to withhold, to make or to break?"
Kaid chuckled to have this tribute, as he thought, from a Christian, who
did not blink at Oriental facts, and was honest.
David bowed his head to Kaid's words.
"Then if it be my hand that lifts up or casts down, that rewards or that
punishes, shall my arm not stretch into the darkest corner of Egypt to
bring forth a traitor? Shall it not be so?"
"It belongs to thy power," answered David. "It is the ancient custom of
princes here. Custom is law, while it is yet the custom."
Kaid looked at him enigmatically for a moment, then smiled grimly--he saw
the course of the lance which David had thrown. He bent his look fiercely
on Achmet and Higli. "Ye have heard. Truth is on his lips. I have
stretched out my arm. Ye are my arm, to reach for and gather in Nahoum
and all that is his." He turned quickly to David again. "I have given
this hawk, Achmet, till to-morrow night to bring Nahoum to me," he
explained.
"And if he fails--a penalty? He will lose his place?" asked David, with
cold humour.
"More than his place," Kaid rejoined, with a cruel smile.
"Then is his place mine, Effendina," rejoined David, with a look which
could give Achmet no comfort. "Thou will bring Nahoum--thou?" asked Kaid,
in amazement.
"I have brought him," answered David. "Is it not my duty to know the will
of the Effendina and to do it, when it is just and right?"
"Where is he--where does he wait?" questioned Kaid eagerly.
"Within the Palace--here," replied David. "He awaits his fate in thine
own dwelling, Effendina." Kaid glowered upon Achmet. "In the years which
Time, the Scytheman, will cut from thy life, think, as thou fastest at
Ramadan or feastest at Beiram, how Kaid filled thy plate when thou wast a
beggar, and made thee from a dog of a fellah into a pasha. Go to thy
dwelling, and come here no more," he added sharply. "I am sick of thy
yellow, sinful face."
Achmet made no reply, but, as he passed beyond the door with Higli, he
said in a whisper: "Come--to Harrik and the army! He shall be deposed.
The hour is at hand." High answered him faintly, however. He had not the
courage of the true conspirator, traitor though he was.
As they disappeared, Kaid made a wide gesture of friendliness to David,
and motioned to a seat, then to a narghileh. David seated himself, took
the stem of a narghileh in his mouth for an instant, then laid it down
again and waited.
"Nahoum--I do not understand," Kaid said presently, his eyes gloating.
"He comes of his own will, Effendina."
"Wherefore?" Kaid could not realise the truth. This truth was not
Oriental on the face of it. "Effendina, he comes to place his life in thy
hands. He would speak with thee."
"How is it thou dost bring him?"
"He sought me to plead for him with thee, and because I knew his peril, I
kept him with me and brought him hither but now."
"Nahoum went to thee?" Kaid's eyes peered abstractedly into the distance
between the almost shut lids. That Nahoum should seek David, who had
displaced him from his high office, was scarcely Oriental, when his every
cue was to have revenge on his rival. This was a natural sequence to his
downfall. It was understandable. But here was David safe and sound. Was
it, then, some deeper scheme of future vengeance? The Oriental
instinctively pierced the mind of the Oriental. He could have realised
fully the fierce, blinding passion for revenge which had almost overcome
Nahoum's calculating mind in the dark night, with his foe in the next
room, which had driven him suddenly from his bed to fall upon David, only
to find Mahommed Hassan watching--also with the instinct of the Oriental.
Some future scheme of revenge? Kaid's eyes gleamed red. There would be no
future for Nahoum. "Why did Nahoum go to thee?" he asked again presently.
"That I might beg his life of thee, Highness, as I said," David replied.
"I have not ordered his death."
David looked meditatively at him. "It was agreed between us yesterday
that I should speak plainly--is it not so?"
Kaid nodded, and leaned back among the cushions.
"If what the Effendina intends is fulfilled, there is no other way but
death for Nahoum," added David. "What is my intention, effendi?"
"To confiscate the fortune left by Foorgat Bey. Is it not so?"
"I had a pledge from Foorgat--a loan."
"That is the merit of the case, Effendina. I am otherwise concerned.
There is the law. Nahoum inherits. Shouldst thou send him to Fazougli, he
would still inherit."
"He is a traitor."
"Highness, where is the proof?"
"I know. My friends have disappeared one by one--Nahoum. Lands have been
alienated from me--Nahoum. My income has declined--Nahoum. I have given
orders and they have not been fulfilled--Nahoum. Always, always some
rumour of assassination, or of conspiracy, or the influence and secret
agents of the Sultan--all Nahoum. He is a traitor. He has grown rich
while I borrow from Europe to pay my army and to meet the demands of the
Sultan."
"What man can offer evidence in this save the Effendina who would profit
by his death?"
"I speak of what I know. I satisfy myself. It is enough."
"Highness, there is a better way; to satisfy the people, for whom thee
lives. None should stand between. Is not the Effendina a father to them?"
"The people! Would they not say Nahoum had got his due if he were blotted
from their sight?"
"None has been so generous to the poor, so it is said by all. His hand
has been upon the rich only. Now, Effendina, he has brought hither the
full amount of all he has received and acquired in thy service. He would
offer it in tribute."
Kaid smiled sardonically. "It is a thin jest. When a traitor dies the
State confiscates his goods!"
"Thee calls him traitor. Does thee believe he has ever conspired against
thy life?"
Kaid shrugged his shoulders.
"Let me answer for thee, Effendina. Again and again he has defeated
conspiracy. He has blotted it out--by the sword and other means. He has
been a faithful servant to his Prince at least. If he has done after the
manner of all others in power here, the fault is in the system, not in
the man alone. He has been a friend to thee, Kaid."
"I hope to find in thee a better."
"Why should he not live?"
"Thou hast taken his place."
"Is it, then, the custom to destroy those who have served thee, when they
cease to serve?" David rose to his feet quickly. His face was shining
with a strange excitement. It gave him a look of exaltation, his lips
quivered with indignation. "Does thee kill because there is silence in
the grave?"
Kaid blew a cloud of smoke slowly. "Silence in the grave is a fact beyond
dispute," he said cynically.
"Highness, thee changes servants not seldom," rejoined David meaningly.
"It may be that my service will be short. When I go, will the long arm
reach out for me in the burrows where I shall hide?"
Kaid looked at him with ill-concealed admiration. "Thou art an
Englishman, not an Egyptian, a guest, not a subject, and under no law
save my friendship." Then he added scornfully: "When an Englishman in
England leaves office, no matter how unfaithful, though he be a friend of
any country save his own, they send him to the House of Lords--or so I
was told in France when I was there. What does it matter to thee what
chances to Nahoum? Thou hast his place with me. My secrets are thine.
They shall all be thine--for years I have sought an honest man. Thou art
safe whether to go or to stay."
"It may be so. I heed it not. My life is as that of a gull--if the wind
carry it out to sea, it is lost. As my uncle went I shall go one day.
Thee will never do me ill; but do I not know that I shall have foes at
every corner, behind every mooshrabieh screen, on every mastaba, in the
pasha's court-yard, by every mosque? Do I not know in what peril I serve
Egypt?"
"Yet thou wouldst keep alive Nahoum! He will dig thy grave deep, and wait
long."
"He will work with me for Egypt, Effendina." Kaid's face darkened.
"What is thy meaning?"
"I ask Nahoum's life that he may serve under me, to do those things thou
and I planned yesterday--the land, taxation, the army, agriculture, the
Soudan. Together we will make Egypt better and greater and richer--the
poor richer, even though the rich be poorer."
"And Kaid--poorer?"
"When Egypt is richer, the Prince is richer, too. Is not the Prince
Egypt? Highness, yesterday--yesterday thee gave me my commission. If thee
will not take Nahoum again into service to aid me, I must not remain. I
cannot work alone."
"Thou must have this Christian Oriental to work with thee?" He looked at
David closely, then smiled sardonically, but with friendliness to David
in his eyes. "Nahoum has prayed to work with thee, to be a slave where he
was master? He says to thee that he would lay his heart upon the altar of
Egypt?" Mordant, questioning humour was in his voice.
David inclined his head.
"He would give up all that is his?"
"It is so, Effendina."
"All save Foorgat's heritage?"
"It belonged to their father. It is a due inheritance."
Kaid laughed sarcastically. "It was got in Mehemet Ali's service."
"Nathless, it is a heritage, Effendina. He would give that fortune back
again to Egypt in work with me, as I shall give of what is mine, and of
what I am, in the name of God, the all-merciful!"
The smile faded out of Kaid's face, and wonder settled on it. What manner
of man was this? His life, his fortune for Egypt, a country alien to him,
which he had never seen till six months ago! What kind of being was
behind the dark, fiery eyes and the pale, impassioned face? Was he some
new prophet? If so, why should he not have cast a spell upon Nahoum? Had
he not bewitched himself, Kaid, one of the ablest princes since Alexander
or Amenhotep? Had Nahoum, then, been mastered and won? Was ever such
power? In how many ways had it not been shown! He had fought for his
uncle's fortune, and had got it at last yesterday without a penny of
backsheesh. Having got his will, he was now ready to give that same
fortune to the good of Egypt--but not to beys and pashas and eunuchs (and
that he should have escaped Mizraim was the marvel beyond all others!),
or even to the Prince Pasha; but to that which would make "Egypt better
and greater and richer--the poor richer, even though the rich be poorer!"
Kaid chuckled to himself at that. To make the rich poorer would suit him
well, so long as he remained rich. And, if riches could be got, as this
pale Frank proposed, by less extortion from the fellah and less kourbash,
so much the happier for all.
He was capable of patriotism, and this Quaker dreamer had stirred it in
him a little. Egypt, industrial in a real sense; Egypt, paying her own
way without tyranny and loans: Egypt, without corvee, and with an army
hired from a full public purse; Egypt, grown strong and able to resist
the suzerainty and cruel tribute--that touched his native goodness of
heart, so long, in disguise; it appealed to the sense of leadership in
him; to the love of the soil deep in his bones; to regard for the common
people--for was not his mother a slave? Some distant nobleness trembled
in him, while yet the arid humour of the situation flashed into his eyes,
and, getting to his feet, he said to David: "Where is Nahoum?"
David told him, and he clapped his hands. The black slave entered,
received an order, and disappeared. Neither spoke, but Kaid's face was
full of cheerfulness.
Presently Nahoum entered and salaamed low, then put his hand upon his
turban. There was submission, but no cringing or servility in his manner.
His blue eyes looked fearlessly before him. His face was not paler than
its wont. He waited for Kaid to speak.
"Peace be to thee," Kaid murmured mechanically.
"And to thee, peace, O Prince," answered Nahoum. "May the feet of Time
linger by thee, and Death pass thy house forgetful."