CHAPTER LII
The full moon shone down on the scene, which surely had not changed since the wise men of the East—led by a star—came to find a Babe.
The palms swayed slightly in a faint breeze, the sand stretched a restful grey, and there was no sound whatever save the faint ripple of the life-giving stream singing its way through the oasis. Neither was there sign of human life excepting the figure of an Arab standing as if carved in bronze in the black shadow of the palms. Immobile, with arms folded he stood, eyes intent on the road leading to civilisation, watching and waiting, as he had watched and waited through many a night until dawn.
"Allah!" and the words were indistinguishable from the brook's murmuring. "God of all, send her back to me. Behold! with patience I have waited these last long months—and yet would I wait even until death—for thou, O! Allah, in Thy greatness hast allowed me dimly to understand this woman's mind—my woman, my heritage of all time.
"The Eastern night will draw her back, as surely as the moon will make a silvery path for her return; for she has but tried her soft white wings, and I have no fear that she will have sullied them in her flight.
"But this time, this time there shall be no escape."
The long brown hand stretched out as if to seize and hold, the slender fingers closed gently, but with a grip of steel, as though upon the whiteness of some woman's throat.
"When she comes back my wife," continued the voice, as the moon slowly swung up to her throne, blinding in her power the million twinkling eyes that had watched for her coming. "Yet, when she comes it will be for very love of me, her lover, and for love of the night and the scent of the dawn, for the stillness of the dusk, and the longing to lay her pure whiteness at rest within my arms."
And then he threw his hands heavenwards with a great cry.
"Allah, be praised! Oh Allah, unto thee I give thanks."
And sank upon his knees, touching the sand with his forehead, and rising with hands outstretched strode quickly to the clump of palms near the gate in the wall surrounding Jill's dwelling, to meet three camels stalking upon the road leading from civilisation towards him; one golden-brown with a closed palanquin swaying upon its back, the others dark brown, one laden with great skins, almost empty of water, and bundles of every size and description, the other mounted by the head keeper of camels, who, having brought the animals to their knees, ran to his master and knelt before him with his mouth open as though to speak, and a look of wracking anxiety and indecision upon his usually imperturbable countenance.
But a slight motion of his master's hand sent him hurriedly towards the servants' quarters, where he was received by scores of his own kind simply bursting with curiosity, whilst Hahmed silently held out his hands to help Jill from the palanquin.
She stumbled badly as her feet touched the ground, and bit on a cry as the man's strong hand caught and steadied her as she stood swaying slightly.
"Remove thy veil for I fain would see what winds have blown upon thee!"
The little figure, wrapped in countless yards of the soft purple satin habarah, recoiled a step as the words fell with the hiss of icy water upon red hot steel; a little nervous laugh rising like thin vapour on the strained atmosphere.
"And so the great Hahmed would expose the face of his wife to the driver of camels? Behold, has his pride fallen."
And she continued with the sharp edge of an approaching nerve storm in her voice.
"Methinks it would be better for him to send his fleetest camel to the great city, and bid it wait without the house of the Blue Door, wherein are to be found those who, unveiled and unashamed, will come and dance upon the sand before such men as—yon camel driver!"
A slight sound of tearing silk and the scented veil lay in Hahmed's hands, whilst the great moon threw its rays mercilessly on the little face.
Deep purple rings made the eyes seem twice their size, the nose looked pinched, the mouth slightly twisted, whilst great drops from the damp brow fell upon the silk covering she held heaped up around her.
"Allah!" ejaculated Hahmed, as he looked and looked again. "Methinks the winds have been ill which have blown upon thee. Thou lookest stricken unto death—and I know not how, but thou hast changed inconceivably—thou art shorter. No! I know not what it is, but hearken.
"Thou hast filled my cup of endurance, O! woman, to the brim. Yea! until the drops of bitterness have overflowed and fallen upon the sands, but now thou art come back, rather than let thee go I would drive this dagger through thy heart.
"Fear not that I will pass uncalled the silken hangings of thy chamber, or force upon thee the sweet title of wife which against my wish thou hast so long disdained, but thou art my prisoner. If love could not bind thee to me, then shall care be taken that thou strayest not again from thy home.
"Thy body woman has orders to come to thee only when I command her to do so, though such is her love for thee that she beats her shrivelled body in despair at thy absence, and is like to die for weariness of thy empty chamber. So when thou wilt retire, if perchance the silken ribbon of thy raiment has become knotted, there are no hands but these to the unravelling of the mysteries of thy toilet.
"If thou hast need of me, thou needest but call me, and I will speed to thy bidding, for behold! I will lay across thy portal, as I have lain these many moons since thy nest has been without the bird for whom it was my pleasure to build."
For a moment fell a mighty silence between the two, broken only by the stream which hurried past them on its way to the great green Nile.
Not a frond stirred, neither did the breeze even move the multitudinous folds of Jill's raiment.
From the West the sand swept up to her feet, and as far as eye could see to the East it stretched.
Slowly she turned and looked at the motionless figure under the palms, then silently she held out her hands with a little movement of utter submission, as a sound, twixt a sob and a moan, fell gently on the soft air.
For one long moment they looked across the sand at each other, these two who had been tried to their utmost limit, and then the man was at her feet, with, flimsy veil held in his hands, lower he bent and lower, as his white cloak swept out on each side of the girl like great protecting wings, as catching the hem of her dress he raised it to his forehead, and then rising to fasten the veil before her face, led her by the hand to the door of her dwelling, pulling back the white silk curtain for her to pass.
CHAPTER LIII
A very ecstasy of love radiated upon the Arab's face as he stood behind
Jill, who in amazement stopped dead on the threshold.
Beautiful her many rooms had been, but none to compare with the snow-white beauty of this. Great white Persian rugs with faint tracings worked in gold and silver lay upon the white marble of the floor; white cushions, with little corner gold and silver tassels, lay piled upon a great divan raised a foot on ivory feet above the floor, and half hidden behind white damask curtains hanging from a finely wrought arch carved out of creamy stretches of ivory held together with gold and silver clasps of rare workmanship.
Stools of ivory, and one great perfect chair, made of innumerable tusks with each tip blunted by a ball of crystal, shone in the dim light cast by the hanging lamps, which drew countless rays from the four fountains playing in the four corners. Bibelots, jewelled boxes, rare books in rare age-dulled covers, things of use and things of luxury lay in every corner, and yet so big was the room that it gave Jill an infinitely refreshing feeling of space as she walked slowly through to another one, leading out from the far side, where crystal and ivory gleamed from low tables, and full length mirrors reflected the water in the Roman bath over which hung flowering plants scenting the air from the great gold and white cups, whilst two snow-white doves cooed to each other in a silver cage at the approach of the coming dawn.
"So would I have it for my—ah——!" Hahmed stopped suddenly, as with a little cry the girl falling forward clutched frantically at his fine white clothing, tearing it in many places under her weight.
"Woman—wife, art thou stricken with fear of him who loves thee—Allah! That I should have lived to see thy face distorted in anguish in my presence. I spoke in anger, O! my heart, but my wrath waxeth faint within me in thy beloved presence," and speaking soft words of love he raised her in his arms, causing the voluminous mantle which she held so closely about her to slip from her shoulders to the ground.
Speechless she stood before him with her hands before her face, and speechless stood Hahmed, as, holding her at arm's length, he gazed upon his woman, gazed until a great tremor suddenly shook him.
For behold he saw that the glory of womanhood had descended upon her, and that her hour was nigh.
"Allah!" he whispered, as he gently drew her into his arms. "Thou art with child, O! my beloved. Why was I not stricken blind for this my senseless folly? Why was I not stricken dumb for those my words of wrath spoken to thee, thou tree bearing the fruit of love? Oh! glory be to Allah in this most wonderful thing."
He picked her up, and carrying her into the first room, laid her upon the divan and knelt beside her with her hand against his mouth whilst she whispered to him the great, the everlastingly wonderful and new tidings of the coming of her babe.
"Oh, dearest of men and most little understanding. Truly it is that within me I hold thy great gift. How was it thou didst not guess when I no longer raced thee across the sands upon my horse, or sprang to the ground to greet thee on my return.
"And even when my moods changed even as changeth the colour of the sands, even then, dear heart, thou didst not guess; and I in my foolish woman's way was contrary, and could not even then be sure that my happiness lay here in the desert. And so I left thee, to try thee and myself, and not until I could no longer see thee, and have speech with thee, did I——— Hahmed! Ah, beloved! Nay, 'tis nothing—it can be nothing—because two moons have yet to rise and wane before—ah, and yet—maybe—maybe the journey, although not tedious, has brought about my happiness before its time. Beloved, I———"
With eyes alight, with a great pride and face aglow with tenderness,
Hahmed bent and kissed the little agonised face.
"I go one instant, Queen of Women, to bid thy body woman come, she, praise be to Allah, being well versed in the mighty miracle of birth.
"She will tend thee with the tenderness of a mother, and the skill of the greatest doctor in the land.
"Fret not, beloved, I am gone but for one moment."
Jill lay silent, and then smiled sweetly as out of the shadows ran a little hunchback figure who stood without word, for a moment gazing with love-laden eyes at the white woman, then kneeling suddenly, kissed the cushion upon which rested the girl's dainty feet.
For half an hour Jill submitted to the adoring little woman's ministrations, who made water to splash, and scented the air with aromatic perfume, and spread white loose gowns and softest linens before her mistress for her choice.
"Leave me, Ameena, now," whispered Jill, and she was alone with the golden glory of her hair falling about her, as she pressed her hands against her mouth, until uncontrollably and insistently her cry for her master tore the air.
"Hahmed! Ah, Hahmed! Come to me!"
And he was beside her.
The Arab had faced death more than once, had witnessed things unmoved which had served to freeze the very blood of others; but never had he heard such a cry as this which cleft the shadows in the room.
Great drops of sweat shone upon his forehead as he stooped above the couch, his strong white teeth biting into his under lip.
Swiftly he crossed the room, pulling back the silken curtain which served as a door, leaving an opening through which the dying moon struck a mighty silver spear.
And as swiftly he passed out into the gardens scented with sweet flowers, a little gate in the wall swinging back at his touch, through which he sped on and on to the great plains of his beloved desert.
It was the hour before the dawn, and turning in the direction of Mecca he prayed, and the prayer finished, advanced yet another twenty yards and, divesting himself of his cloak, laid it upon the ground, and then turning, sped back to his woman who honoured him before all men.
A little breeze heralding the coming dawn blew the silken curtains gently to and fro as the man knelt beside the low divan.
"Hahmed! the hour strikes—I am afraid—I—oh! Hahmed, I cannot see thy face, beloved."
Two little white hands sought and grasped the strong ones held out to help, for through the faint voice had crept a note of fear.
But even though the little teeth had bit until red drops of blood had spilled from her mouth on to the white cushion, the great eyes smiled up into the man's tortured face as he bent closer to the golden head.
"Harken! Woman of women, thou who bringest honour unto me, in this thou shalt please thyself, for art thou not in this moment a very queen, and I but a slave at thy feet.
"Behold is it the custom of my tribe, dwellers of the desert, children of the sand, that the woman give birth to her first-born upon the very sand of this mighty desert.
"Not upon couch and silken cloth does the first-born draw its breath, but upon the sand with the desert wind upon his little head.
"I have no command for thee, beloved, because thou art of the West, where different customs rule, and I—I mind not—for my love for thee is above all custom, and all manner and fashioning of mankind! Choose then and I am satisfied!"
Once again two little hands shone dimly as they were raised, searching blindly.
"Take me into thy arms, beloved, and carry me to the desert sand, for behold, thy will is my will and my ways are henceforth thy ways! But hasten! for the moment is at hand. Hold me in thy strength for I faint!"
Tenderly the great man stooped and gathered the girl to his breast. Swiftly he crossed the threshold, and passing through the gate gently laid her down upon his mantle, stretched upon the ground.
* * * * * *
The wind of dawn blew the stars out one by one, the great plains of sand changed from purple to steel, to grey, to yellow.
The palms whispered gently together, the water sang on its swift way to the river, a faint movement everywhere heralded the coming of the day.
Motionless, Hahmed knelt beside Jill, whose snow-white face, half-ridden in the folds of cloth, looked like some faint spring flower in a world of shadows.
And then, as the woman whose unbound hair rippled in golden streams about the Arab's feet, put out her hands to grasp her master's robe, a long-drawn cry which spoke of pain and joy, death and ecstasy and Life, crept over the sands, rising, rising to the very heavens, to sink back in faintest moan to her who in that moment had fulfilled the miracle of Love.
A hush fell upon the earth, a mighty stillness upon those two.
And then!
A little sound, soft as a bird's call at dawn, broke the silence of the sands!
And at the little sound the man sprang upright, with hands and blazing eyes upraised to heaven.
And as he stood towering over the motionless woman at his feet, the sound of rejoicing was great in the land; for over the yellow sand, tearing apart the last dim shadows of the night, up struck the sun's first golden shaft, and as it spread, piling gold upon red, and red upon gold, across the great plains and up to the very highest of high heaven thundered the Mohammedan's tumultuous, triumphant hymn of praise.
"La Allah, illa Allah! Muhammed rasul Allah!"
THE END
[Transcriber's note: The word "Amourers" in Chapter XXXIII should probably be "Armourers" (weapon makers).]
[Transcriber's note: In the "La Allah" line above, two characters are supported only in Unicode. They are the second "a" in "Allah" and the "a" in "illa", both of which should be a-macron (U+0101), and the "u" in "rasul", which should be u-macron (U+016B).]