Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara

Suddenly he paused, panting and breathless, his eyes aflame with hatred, and his face hideously distorted by anger and revenge.

“Speak, dog of a Christian!” he shouted. “Speak! or, by the Prophet and the One, thy profane tongue shall be torn out by the roots. How earnest thou to possess thyself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders? What hath its possession availed thee? Answer, or – ”

There was a sudden movement among the men behind me, who with one accord uttered ejaculations of surprise, as the Sheikh’s threat was interrupted by a loud voice crying —

“Silence! Let not another word pass thy lips, on pain of the most damnifying curses that tongue can utter!”

Turning sharply to ascertain who dared thus command the dreaded Sultan of the Sahara to close his lips, I beheld a woman with bare, beautifully-moulded arm outstretched, pointing imperiously towards the proud, regal figure on the divan. The pirate Sheikh trembled before her, staggered as if he had received a blow, then stood silent, not daring to complete the sentence.

Her sudden appearance had caused a pallor to creep over his countenance, as anger gave place to fear.

Advancing, the strange veiled figure stood before the divan just in front of me, with face turned away and arm still uplifted, as in the lamplight her bracelets flashed and gleamed with dazzling brilliancy. She was a veritable Light of the Harem, dressed superbly in gauzy garments of palest mauve, with magnificent jewels in her hair, upon her brow, upon her bare white breast, and upon her delicate ankles. Her heavy golden girdle was richly studded with rubies and sapphires; her long dark tresses, unbound, fell in rich profusion upon her bare shoulders; and about her there clung a sweet, subtle breath of geranium that filled my nostrils. Her attitude was marked with a strange suppleness, astonishingly graceful, and the men who had held me captive before their tyrannical master fell back, as if awestricken by her dazzling presence.

“Hearken!” she exclaimed in clear, musical Arabic, as she unwound the veil from her face. “Knowest thou me?”

“We do! Peace be upon thee, O beauteous Woman of Wisdom, O Lady amongst Women!” they answered with one accord, even to the Sheikh himself, all bowing before her abashed.

“Then behold! I stand at thy divan of judgment to answer for the offences of this Roumi, who hath, by cowardly device, been delivered into thine hands!”

Turning, she suddenly faced me. I was rendered mute by amazement. The woman before whom these outlaws bowed as if in worship was none other than Zoraida!

Upon me there gazed, with unmistakable glances of affection, the calm, beautiful face that had for so long existed only in my dreams, but which was at this moment before me, a living reality!

For an instant my tongue refused to articulate, but, dashing forward and seizing her right hand, I rained kisses upon it, notwithstanding the fierce, guttural exclamations of disapproval uttered on all sides by my enemies. That the lips of an Infidel should thus defile a woman of Al-Islâm, was to them infamous; but in that brief second, the woman I loved whispered in imperfect French —

“Obey. I may save thee!”

The horrible souvenir I had received in Algiers flashed across my mind, and I sought her hand. Almost beside myself with joy, I found it was intact and uninjured! The severed member that had been sent me, and afterwards stolen so mysteriously, was not Zoraida’s!

“By what right dost thou, O Daughter of the Sun, interfere between thy Ruler and his foes?” the old Sheikh asked angrily at that moment.

“Against me have thine unfounded allegations been levelled,” she answered bitterly, standing by my side, holding my hand in hers. “It is true that this Roumi and I have met, and that he holdeth certain secrets; but I warn thee that if a hair of his head is injured, of a surety will the fearful vengeance of the Unknown fall upon and crush thee and thy people.”

“Thou canst not – thou shalt not wrest him from our hands!” cried Hadj Absalam, boiling over with rage. “My will hath already been spoken. He shall die!”

“Then the peril is thine,” she said in slow, impressive tones. Her hand quivered, and I could see that she was trembling lest her bold and gallant effort to save my life should prove unavailing.

“Already hath he brought the direst evil upon us,” cried the Ruler of the Ennitra. “Besides, for aught we know, he may be the mysterious stranger who, according to report, was present as spy at a meeting of the Ghuzzat, held by the Kel-Fadê, and who escaped so strangely.”

“How thinkest thou that a Roumi can understand our symbols of the serpents? Even if he were the mysterious eavesdropper, what could he have gathered with regard to our brotherhood?” she asked, adding, “It seemeth thou art determined to take his life, so thou formulatest unfounded charges against him!”

“Bah! he is thy lover,” the sinister-faced old brigand observed, with a sneer. “In thine eyes he is no doubt innocent.”

“I acknowledge that upon mine own head should be the punishment for the evils that have befallen our people. Yet, nevertheless, I declare unto thee – ”

“If thou lovest a dog of an Infidel,” cried Hadj Absalam, interrupting, “thou art no longer worthy our confidence.” Then, turning to those about him, he asked, “Do I give utterance to thy thoughts?”

“Yes. Thy words are words of wisdom, O Ruler,” they answered with one voice.

Releasing my hand, she raised her alabaster-like arm towards the chief of the outlaws, exclaiming in a loud voice, “If the Ennitra have no longer confidence in me, I will to-night sever the bond that bindeth me to them. Into battle have I led thy people many times, against Infidel and the enemy of our own race alike, and thou hast vanquished thy foes, and compelled them to bite the dust. Against thee have the legions of France been arrayed, yet powerless, and at this moment, thou, Hadj Absalam, art the mighty Sultan of the Sahara, the ruler whose power causeth all men to tremble, from Ghat even unto far Timbuktu. To-day thou hast advanced to this spot hopeful and confident, prepared to wage a war that must be bloody and deadly; but as thou hast lost faith in thy Daughter of the Sun, I shall leave thee to thine own devices. If thou killest the man I love, I shall depart. We twain are in thine hands.”

“Canst thou not, O Ruler, kill the false Prophetess too?” suggested a voice from behind. I recognised the tones as those of Labakan!

“If thou takest my life, thou too wilt fall within one moon under the fiery scimitar of Azraïl, even though each man hath the strength of Jalût and the courage of Al-Jassâsa,” she exclaimed, with the calm dignity of a queen.

The men jeered at her prophetic utterances, but she looked at them with withering scorn, and heeded them not. For my life she was striving, and cared for naught else. Her beauty intoxicated me, and I stood, even in those critical moments, entranced, as I had before been, by her extraordinary loveliness.

“Al-Sijil hath registered thy deeds,” she continued, casting calm, imperious looks at the brigandish band about her. “If thou committest the crime of shedding the blood of those who possess the power by which thou existest as the most powerful people of the Desert, thou wilt assuredly never lave in the stream Zenjebil.”

Her words created a visible impression upon them, and seriously they whispered among themselves, until suddenly their Sheikh addressed them, saying —

“Already have I decided that the Infidel shall be put to the torture, that his ears shall be cut off, his eyes put out, and his tongue removed. Are those thy wishes?”

“Thy will be done, O Ruler,” they answered; and Labakan added, “Our Woman of Wisdom hath no longer power to lead us unto victory. She is enamoured of this accursed Christian dog who bringest the direst evil upon us.”

“Then away with him!” cried Hadj Absalam, waving his arm towards me. “Let his hands be lopped off, and let his end be one of long suffering.”

Four men seized me roughly, and were dragging me out, when Zoraida, advancing a few steps, uttered a final earnest appeal. In her beautiful face was a look of intense anxiety, as she stood alone in the centre of the pavilion, pale, erect, queenly.

“Hearken!” she cried wildly. “If this man – who is not our enemy – be put to death, remember that upon thee will fall the curses of one whose incantations can produce good or evil, life or death! Thou sayest that he holdeth the power that I should hold, but I tell thee – ”

“Hath he not by thine aid possessed himself of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders?” interrupted the Sheikh.

“The Crescent is no longer possessed by an Infidel,” she answered quickly. “During a fight with the Kel-Fadê it was lost, and hath since that time lain undiscovered.”

“I found it at – ”

“Hush! Remain silent,” she whispered, speaking in broken French and glancing at me significantly.

“The Crescent, O Mighty Ruler, hath been seen in his saddle-bag,” Labakan urged, muttering a curse under his breath.

“The leathern case may be there,” continued Zoraida, with intense earnestness, “but undoubtedly the Crescent of Strange Wonders, the mysterious secret of which is as impenetrable as the wall of Dhu’lkarnein (built to prevent the incursions of Gog and Magog), was lost among the plunder secured by our enemies. It is probably still in the hands of the Kel-Fadê.”

“Let the Infidel’s saddle-bags be at once searched,” ordered the chieftain, and two men hurried forth with that object. I stood anxious to see what turn events would take when the strange object was found secreted in the bag that had served me as pillow, but judge my amazement when, a few minutes later, the men returned with the case, declaring that they had found it empty! Had it again been stolen from me? When they announced the futility of their errand, a smile of satisfaction played about Zoraida’s mouth, a fact which puzzled me when I reflected how explicit her instructions had been over its safe custody.

“If it remaineth in the hands of the Kel-Fadê, we must compel them to restore it, or fight as an alternative,” said the Sheikh decisively. “We must repossess ourselves of it at all hazards;” adding thoughtfully, “The Great Secret which it conceals must be revealed unto us. Knowledge of its utility in revealing the mystery must be obtained, even at the point of the sword.”

On all hands muttered words of approbation greeted this declaration. Then, after a slight pause, he continued —

“If the Roumi possesseth not the Crescent, he cannot hold our vanished power!”

“Why then should he die?” queried the woman whose face had mastery over me.

“Because he is of the accursed race, and hath defiled with his eyes thine own countenance, and those of other of our daughters.”

“But thou wilt not darken the world unto me at this moment – when I am leading thee to glorious success and the acquisition of great wealth?” she urged on my behalf.

“And if he liveth – what then?”

“He will accompany us. The country we are entering is already known unto him, thus will he be enabled to choose our route, and lead us to a great and decisive victory,” she argued.

The old Sheikh paused, consulting in an undertone with his two advisers who had smoked on in contemplative silence. Anxiously Zoraida and I awaited their verdict, not without feelings of despair, for we both had realised the terrible prejudice against me. At last, however, Hadj Absalam exclaimed —

“The sentence of death by torture having been declared upon the Infidel, it must remain. Nevertheless, it will not be carried out until the result of our expedition hath been seen. If we are victorious, then shall he lead us against the Kel-Fadê, in order to recover the Crescent of Glorious Wonders.”

“My Amîn!” whispered Zoraida in French, with tears of joy in her brilliant eyes. “Thou hast a brief respite; use it well. We must now part, but remember that I love thee always – always!”

“But the Crescent?” I gasped. “How shall I act?”

“Remain patient. For the present thou art safe, but be wary of the man who hath already attempted to take thy life. He may strike thee a secret blow at the orders of Hadj Absalam. Go thou back to thy tent and sleep, and when opportunity ariseth, I will communicate with thee, and direct thy footsteps unto the path of freedom.”

Then, snatching up her flimsy veil, she deftly twisted it across her face, and walked out with regal gait, proudly acknowledging the obeisance of the dark-faced outlaws, who in apparent fear bowed before her.

A few minutes later, I was back again in the tent from which I had been so mysteriously called, and until the dawn, sat coolly contemplating the remarkable and unexpected turn events had taken.

Chapter Thirty Six.

The Bond of Blood

Sleep was impossible. Thoughts of Zoraida absorbed me. Her position was an extraordinary, yet perilous one, and she herself was still enveloped in a mystery that seemed utterly impenetrable. Apparently she was well aware of the secret plans of the Senousya, and by her grace and beauty had charmed these wild, merciless outlaws, ruling even Hadj Absalam himself. Queen of that fierce piratical band, she seemed to have held them so completely under her sway, that the great Sultan of the Sahara himself had been led by her into battle, and had carried out her orders with implicit confidence and passive obedience. The whole situation seemed unintelligible. It appeared impossible that this fair woman, scarcely more than a girl, with such amazingly beautiful features and gracefully-moulded half-bare limbs, who seemed to lead an exotic existence, half consumed by the ennui of the harem, should be responsible for the plunder and carnage, the heartless outrages and brutal massacres, which had during the past few years appalled both Christians and True Believers throughout North Africa. Yet had I not already heard rumours of this from the Spahis? Was it not now proved by her own admissions that she had led the Ennitra against the Zouaves, Turcos, and homards?

Why, I wondered, had the dead hand been sent to me; why had some unknown person endeavoured to convince me of her death; why, indeed, had those who knew her all conspired to keep from me the knowledge that she still lived? The facts formed a strange enigma which I hoped would ere long be solved, for this latest disappearance of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders had added considerably to the mystery. Nevertheless she had promised to communicate with me, so I existed from hour to hour in intense expectancy, hoping to receive a summons to enter her bewitching presence.

I had not long to wait, for, on the following evening, while the people had assembled on the opposite side of the camp and were performing their evening prayer, I was strolling slowly past the three silken pavilions of the self-styled Sultan, when suddenly there appeared at the door of one of the two smaller tents, that were zealously and constantly guarded by armed men, a black female slave. For a few seconds she disappeared, then, coming forth again, she beckoned me. As I approached, my passage was immediately barred by a dozen unsheathed swords, but on a word from the negress the men’s arms were relegated to their scabbards, and I followed her into the pavilion.

The sweetly-scented interior was replete with every comfort and luxury. From a golden lamp above a soft, subdued light fell upon bright divans, velvet hangings, dark-hued rugs, and little mother-of-pearl tables, whereon there stood fresh fruits in vessels of gold; while stretched upon a lion’s skin, with which her low couch was covered, lay Zoraida, a radiant, dazzling vision of beauty.

Throwing down her cigarette as I entered, she raised herself upon her elbow and greeted me with a smile of glad welcome, at the same time ordering her slave to bring me cigarettes, and motioning me to a seat beside her.

In silence our hands clasped until the negress disappeared. She had gone to mount guard at the door, in order to give us warning if enemies approached. The armed guards were, Zoraida explained in a few hasty words, her own trusted servants, and would keep my presence a secret. Thus placing me at my ease, and assuring me that we had naught to fear, she entwined her bare arms around my neck, and, gently pulling my head down to hers, kissed me passionately.

“Through long, weary days, my Amîn, have we been parted. So long! And thou hast always been so faithful, so unswerving in thy devotion unto me!”

“I have merely striven to fulfil my promise,” I said, enravished by her beauty, and returning her tender caress. “For many moons have I journeyed in order to accomplish the mission I undertook, yet until yesterday I mourned for thee as dead. Canst thou imagine my joy now that we are once again together?”

“Ah!” she exclaimed, throwing one arm over her head, as her white, scented bosom, half-covered with flashing jewels, slowly rose and fell. “Thou didst think me dead? Perhaps it would have been better for me – better for thee – if I had really died. On the night we parted I was near indeed to death.”

“How?” I asked anxiously. “I heard thy screams, but was held powerless to return and render thee help. Tell me what occurred?”

“Strive not to penetrate secrets that are mine alone, Ce-cil,” she answered, kindly but firmly. “I can only show thee evidence of the coward’s blow;” and raising herself into a sitting posture, she tore asunder the transparent, pearl-embroidered lace which was the only covering of the upper part of her body, revealing to my astonished eyes a great ugly wound only half-healed. She had been struck in the left side, half-way between arm-pit and waist, evidently with a keen, crooked jambiyah, which had inflicted a terrible injury. The white, delicate flesh was red and inflamed around a deep wound about three inches in length, from which bandages had apparently only recently been removed.

“Who attempted thy murder?” I asked, enraged that anyone should thus strike down a defenceless woman.

“An enemy,” she answered, readjusting her filmy garments, the transparency of which caused her no concern. The gauzes of the harem had always been her attire from childhood, and she knew nothing of rigid Western conventionalities. To the fair daughters of Al-Islâm the follies and foibles of Parisian fashion are a mystery. It is the mission of the inmates of the harem to look beautiful, but they trust to their own personal attractions, not to Worth’s creations or Truefitt’s coiffures. The corsets, tailor-made gowns, and other arts that transform a hag of sixty into a “smart” Society woman, are unknown in the dreamy Courts of Love, for the velvet zouaves, the gauzy serroual, and the garments of brilliant silk brocade are practically the same from Fez to Teheran.

“Name the man who struck thee!” I cried. “He shall answer to me.”

“No, no,” she replied, turning slowly among her luxurious cushions, causing her golden anklets to jingle. “It is best that, for the present, thou shouldst not know.”

“But a dead hand, with thy rings upon its lifeless fingers, was sent to me, and I thought thou hadst – ”

“Yes, yes,” she answered quickly, interrupting. “But thou mayest not know for what object the severed hand was sent thee. Forget the incident now; some day shalt thou know all.”

“When?”

Taking my hand gently in hers, she raised it slowly to her lips, replying, “When we are free to love each other.”

“Are we not free now? What obstacle is there?”

“One that seemeth insurmountable,” she answered, looking earnestly at me with her fine dark eyes, so full of love and passion. “By a secret bond am I held unto the Ennitra, and thou alone canst sever it and give me freedom.”

“How?” I asked eagerly.

“By faithfully carrying out the mission that I entrusted unto thee; by obtaining the secret from Mohammed ben Ishak at Agadez.”

“I have done my best,” I said. “I have actually been in Agadez, but only as slave in the Fáda of the Sultan.”

“Yes,” she replied, with a sweet, tender smile, lifting her dark lashes for an instant; “already have I heard of thy perilous adventures, of the gallant attempt thou hast made, risking thy life fearlessly among thine enemies for my sake. True, we love each other devotedly, but, alas! we – we are not yet free;” and her bright eyes became dimmed with tears.

“When shall we have liberty?” I asked, entwining my arm about her neck, so that her sensuously-beautiful head pillowed itself upon my shoulder.

For a few moments she remained silent; then, gazing up into my eyes with an intense, wistful look, she answered —

“When thou hast learned the Secret, and used it upon our mutual behalf; then only can I extricate myself from the Bond of Blood.”

“The Bond of Blood! What is that?” I asked eagerly.

“Ah, no!” she responded, with a touch of sorrow in her voice. “I am unable to give thee explanation. When thou hast gained the Secret, then wilt thou learn the truth, and penetrate the veil of Great Mystery. Until that day have patience, and seek not that which must remain hidden.”

“But I – I have lost the Crescent,” I blurted forth despondently.

“It is in my possession,” she replied, with a smile, rising from her divan, kneeling beside me, and placing her arms about my neck. “When last night I recognised thee on thine arrival in our camp, I foresaw thy deadly peril. Labakan, who had been ordered to kill thee, was also aware of thy presence; therefore I had thy travelling companion, Halima, brought before me, and from her ascertained that on thy journey thine eyes had been constantly upon one of thy saddle-bags. I therefore felt confident that the Crescent thou hadst lost had been recovered. Later, I caused search to be made among thy belongings, and it being found there, it was abstracted and brought hither.”

“Hadst thou a reason for this?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yes. I knew that if the Crescent of Glorious Wonders were found in the possession of thyself, an Infidel, no argument of mine would save thee from death.”

“But thou hast again rescued me, Zoraida,” I murmured in ecstasy. “Again my life hath been in thine hands.”

“I love thee,” she responded, briefly and simply.

“And thou art risking everything for my sake – even thy position as Queen of the Ennitra!”

“Art thou not doing the same for me?” she asked. “As lovers it is our duty to assist each other, and to stand together in the hour of danger.”

“How didst thou know I had lost that which thou hadst entrusted to my care?” I asked, much interested in this remarkable phase of the extraordinary affair.

“I ascertained that when thou wert a slave in the Fáda thou hadst not the Crescent. Then I learnt of the circumstances of thy fall into the hands of the Kel-Fadê, and it was at once apparent that it was they who had filched it from thee.”

“Thou didst not know how I recovered it?” I asked, transported by her beauty.

“No,” she answered. “Tell me; I am interested to learn the truth;” and with charming ingenuousness she imprinted upon my cheek another warm, affectionate kiss.

Briefly, I told her of my journey after my adventurous escape from Agadez, of the dastardly attempt to take my life, my strange rescue, and my wanderings in the gloomy subterranean passages beneath the Sheikh’s palace. As I related how I had suddenly entered the hall where the conspirators of the Senousya had assembled to practise their mystic rites, she grew excited and alarmed, eagerly drinking in every word of my description. When I had finished, she placed her hand upon my arm, and said with intense earnestness —

“Tell no one of this, O Ce-cil! Thine eyes have beholden, and thou hast, alas! learned the secrets of the League of Terror. I fear that the punishment of eavesdroppers may be meted out to thee. Know thou that the terrible vengeance of the Senousya is so far-reaching that the man or woman it condemneth can never escape a violent death, even though he or she may flee beyond seas unto the uttermost corners of the earth. Wherever shineth the sun, there also are emissaries of the Senousya. Therefore take every precaution for thy safety; tell no one of the knowledge thou hast thus acquired; and upon the subject of the Holy War remain always silent as the grave. Take warning, and exercise caution – for my sake. The vengeance is always fatal!”

“I will heed thy words,” I said. “But I care naught for enemies while I am nigh unto thee;” and as I drew her slowly towards me, her lips met mine in a warm, entrancing caress, enough to make any man’s senses whirl.