Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara

“Verily hast thou acted with faith and fearlessness,” he said, taking the piece of metal in his talon-like fingers and seeking the mystic inscription. “Undaunted, thou hast faced many perils in order to fulfil thine oath. Already the report of thy sufferings and thine hardships, and the attempts made upon thy life, hath been conveyed unto me. While thou wert a slave in the Fáda, I knew of thy bondage, and tried to reach and release thee, but without avail. To me the circumstances of the loss and extraordinary recovery of this strangely-shaped phylactery entrusted to thy keeping are no new thing, for while upon thy wanderings thou hast been watched by eyes unseen.”

“Didst thou know that I was endeavouring to reach thee?” I asked, amazed. “How didst thou obtain thy knowledge?”

“The Wearer of the Flower knoweth all things he desireth,” the aged imam answered simply. But his words were full of meaning, for they implied that I had been watched by secret emissaries of the Senousya. Members of this secret brotherhood of Al-Islâm are initiated by the taking of a flower, of which there are fifteen, each being significant of a certain sect.

When two Believers meet as strangers, one will say to the other, “What blossom wearest thou?” a question which is the “Who goes there?” of the affiliation. If the individual to whom the question is addressed has not been initiated into the Senousya, he will reply, “I am no Wearer of the Flower. I am simply the humble servant of Allah.”

“The Wearers of the Flower are all-powerful,” I said.

“Thou speakest the truth,” he answered; piously adding: “Of a surety will the Prophet send his liberator, who will drive the Infidel invaders into the sea. Then will True Believers rise in their millions, and the land of Al-Islâm will be delivered out of the hands of the oppressor. As the locusts devour all green things, so shall the Senousya smite and destroy the Infidels with a strength as irresistible as the falchion of Fate.”

“I am one of thine oppressors,” I hazarded, smiling.

“No. Thou, although a Roumi, art a respecter of our laws and a friend of our people. At what is written thou hast never scoffed, but hast sought to deliver the fairest woman of Al-Islâm from dangers that have beset her feet.”

“Wherein lie those dangers?” I asked anxiously. “In vain have I tried to obtain explanation.”

“Unto thee the truth will be revealed in due course. From her own lips wilt thou obtain knowledge,” he replied impressively. “Thou lovest her. Some day thou wilt tread the Right Path and believe in Allah, Lord of the Three Worlds. Then shalt thou marry her.”

“She hath sent me unto thee because, in Algiers, the Secret of the Crescent was denied me,” I said.

“Of that I am aware,” he exclaimed. “Already hast thou sought the Unknown and witnessed some of our marvels; but there are others more wondrous that must convince thee. Faith shutteth the seventy doors of evil, and giveth passage over Al-Sirât, the bridge, sharp as a sword and finer than a hair, that stretcheth between hell and Paradise.”

“I have faith,” I said fervently, remembering the weird things Zoraida had shown me. “Thou knowest the Great Secret, and if thou art so inclined, canst impart unto me knowledge whereby I may rescue the woman I love.”

The holy man asked me what peril appeared to surround Zoraida, and in reply I briefly described the scene that had been enacted in the Fáda that day, and told him of Hadj Absalam’s declaration of his intention to make her his wife. My words aroused within him the fiercest anger, and as he paced the apartment with feverish steps, he uttered terrible threats against the Sheikh of the despoilers.

“Twice would the Sultan of the Sahara have taken my life, had not Zoraida saved me,” I pointed out.

“Allah showeth mercy only to the merciful,” he observed, halting suddenly before me. “Cast thine eyes about thee here in Agadez, and gaze upon the frightful ruin wrought to-day by those hell-hounds. Verily are they the sons of Eblis, who walk in the darkness, and to whom all blessings are denied. May their vitals be burned with the fire unquenchable, and may their thirst be slaked with molten metal. Abuser of the salt, and unfaithful Wearer of the Flower, Hadj Absalam seeketh now to crown his many villainies by forcing the Lalla Zoraida, who is pure as the jasmine blossom, to become his wife! Hâsha! We shall see! We shall see!”

“She telleth me that I can save her if I discover the Great Secret,” I said, with anxious impatience.

“Thou hast not been initiated into the Senousya, neither art thou a True Believer; nevertheless, thou hast kept thy word even at risk of thine own life,” he exclaimed, reflectively twisting his rosary between his thin, nervous fingers. The thought of Zoraida’s peril seemed to have completely unnerved him.

“Hither have I journeyed from Algiers on purpose to seek explanation of thee,” I urged. “Think! the liberty, nay, the life, of one who is as innocent as she is fair is at stake. If thou refusest, I can do nothing. She will become the wife of a man whose fiendish brutality is a by-word and a reproach to the Moslem world. Is it surprising that she hath decided to take her life rather than fall into his polluted hands? Consider, O Reciter of the Prayers – thou who teachest goodwill towards men – reveal unto me, I beseech thee, that which is hidden and the elucidation of which can alone secure the safety of my betrothed.”

“But thou art not a True Believer,” he protested, shaking his head gravely. “How dare I invoke the Wrath by revealing unto thee the Great Secret, with which I alone of men have been entrusted?”

“Wilt thou not – for Zoraida’s sake?” I urged again, growing alarmed at his increasing inclination to preserve the mystery.

“Within this steel there lieth hidden a secret which none know,” he said, again examining the Crescent carefully. “Through ages hath it been passed from hand to hand, experiencing many vicissitudes, stranger even than the tales of the story-tellers, or the romances of the Thousand and One Nights, yet its true power hath remained hidden from its various owners, and its secret influence is to all undreamed of.”

“How can its power avert Zoraida’s peril and give unto her peace?” I inquired anxiously.

“I know not. Peradventure there are minor secrets connected with it of which even I am in ignorance. Yet assuredly must a man believe that there is no God but Allah ere he can rest beneath the tree called Tûba (the tree of happiness), or dwell within the Jannat al Naïm.” (The garden of pleasure.)

“Though an Infidel, I respect thy belief profoundly,” I said, endeavouring to break down the barrier of his fanatical prejudice. “That I have never reproached a True Believer, impugned his devoutness, or ridiculed that which thou boldest sacred, thou hast already acknowledged. Indeed, I follow many of thy beliefs, and acknowledge the truth of the declaration of thy Khalîf Omar ebn Abd’alaziz, that prayer carrieth us half-way to Allah, fasting bringeth us to the door of His palace, and alms procureth us admission. But not as one who respecteth and honoureth thy people of Al-Islâm seek I the elucidation of the Great Mystery; it is in order that the life of the Lalla Zoraida may be spared, and that she and I may at last become united in wedlock.”

The patriarchal head of the old imam was bent as he mumbled over his rosary. The words I uttered were intensely in earnest, for Zoraida’s final appeal still rang in my ears, and I knew that I had but one short month in which to rescue her from the clutches of the inhuman brute who would snatch her from me for ever.

“Believe,” he urged at last. “Turn not to folly, but learn thou the truth, and live in piety; for verily I tell thee that the Holy War is near at hand. Then all of us, – with the exception of the Ennitra, who are the thrice-cursed sons of Eblis, – laying aside all fear and dread, will, guided by the Giver of Strength, strive with one accord against the enemies of the Faith; for Allah the Comforter knoweth that if any man die, he dieth for the truth of the Faith, for the salvation of his land, for the protection of the tombs and holy cities, and the defence of the Belief. Therefore shall he obtain of Him the bounteous reward in the Jannat al Ferdaws, peopled by the beautiful Hûr al oyûn, that He alone can give.”

“I believe in the marvels I have already witnessed,” I answered. “I am convinced that thou canst reveal unto me means by which I can release the woman I love from the harem of villainy, ere it be too late. Has she not in her letter requested thee to afford me explanation, in order that I may gain the knowledge for our mutual advantage?”

He hesitated. With his dark, gleaming eyes fixed steadfastly upon me, he remained motionless in deep reflection.

“Darest thou leave this City of the Doomed to go forth in search of what may appear unto thee but the merest phantom?” he asked slowly.

“Zoraida is in deadliest peril,” I urged. “Would my absence be of long duration?”

“I cannot answer. Thou art young and reckless. With a stout heart thou mightest obtain knowledge of the truth within short space.”

“But within one moon, Zoraida – with whom no woman of Al-Islâm can compare – will be imprisoned in the harem of the conqueror, and she will be irretrievably lost to me!” I urged.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Art thou still undaunted?” he asked. “Art thou still prepared to continue thine efforts to effect her rescue?”

“I am, O Father,” I answered fervently. “Tell me, I beseech thee, how to act.”

“The medium through which thou canst alone seek to elucidate the Great Mystery hath been hidden from man through many ages,” he said in a strange, croaking voice, handling the Crescent of Glorious Wonders as tenderly as if it were a child. “This ancient talisman, which bringeth good fortune and victory to its possessor, containeth a property which is unknown to the wise men of our generation, though when Cleopatra reigned in Egypt the hidden force was well known and freely utilised. To the True Believer this Crescent giveth valour and power over his enemies, besides averting the evil eye, like the hand of Fathma; but profaned by the touch of the Roumi, it assuredly bringeth ruin, disaster, and death. Over our Lalla Zoraida there hangeth a fate that is worse than death, yet that can be averted, provided thou canst fathom that which the wise of successive ages have attempted and failed. She now chargeth me to impart to thee the key of the Wondrous Marvel, the Secret entrusted unto me alone. Verily I declare unto thee, only the deadly peril of the fair woman thou lovest causeth me to unloose my tongue’s strings – only the imminent likelihood of her abandonment to that fiend in man’s shape induceth me to withdraw the veil.”

“Before thee I stand prepared to attempt any task that hath for its reward her escape from the power of the brigand,” I said.

“Until now thine heart hath not failed thee. Despair not, for peradventure thou mayest crush those who, while calling themselves her friends, nevertheless seek her destruction,” he said encouragingly, stroking his white beard in thought.

“Guide thou my footsteps, O director of men, and I will speed upon the path that leadeth unto truth,” I said.

“So be it,” he answered, after a pause, waving his thin hand. “Be not sceptical of what strange things thou mayest witness; only believe, and the Way may be opened up unto thee.” His small jet-black eyes glittered with a brilliant fire unnatural to one so old, as, placing both his hands upon a portion of the dark wall, he pushed it, revealing a door constructed by a section of the wall itself being made to revolve upon a pivot. Then, pointing to the cavernous darkness beyond, he said in a commanding tone, “Come, follow me!”

Excited at the prospect of ascertaining at last the Great Secret so long promised, I obeyed instantly, and when a few seconds later the piece of the wall slowly swung back into its place, closing with a clang which made it clear that it was of iron painted to resemble stone, I found myself in another passage. The brass lamp, which he had detached from its chain, revealed that the strange corridor was carpeted and hung with rich fabrics, and as we proceeded along, the close air seemed heavy with a sweet, fragrant perfume.

“Fearest thou Azraïl?” he suddenly asked in a deep, mysterious voice, halting for a moment to gaze into my anxious eyes, as if to detect any sign of faltering.

“All men who have dear ones upon earth live in terror of the eternal parting,” I said. “Azraïl, inexorable conqueror of the mighty, causeth even Sultans to crave mercy on bended knee. Truly he is the Terrible!”

My aged companion grunted, apparently satisfied with my reply to his abrupt question, for he moved along noiselessly over the thick carpets, and I followed, wondering whither he was leading me, and puzzled over the sentences he continued to mumble to himself over and over again: “The gainsaying of the unbelievers ceaseth not. The two-edged sword is already whetted. Verily shall they writhe their mouths, for their iniquities shall eat away their tongues like a corrosive acid.” When we had walked along the curious subway for some distance, we came to a flight of spiral stairs so narrow as to admit of only one person at a time. My guide commenced to ascend, and I followed, filled with curiosity. Upward he went, without a pause, and with footsteps so agile that I was at length compelled to halt to regain breath. He smiled disdainfully at my fatigue, but waited a few moments; then on again he went, higher and still higher, until I felt convinced that we had ascended to the level of the earth. This suspicion was soon afterwards confirmed, for we came to a small door, the heavy latch of which he lifted, and on opening it, I was surprised to find myself in the open space before the palace, at a considerable distance from the courtyard by which I had entered. Gazing round upon the roaring flames that seemed to leap up in every direction, casting a lurid light that revealed the hideousness of the piles of dead about us, and cast long, grotesque shadows over the wide roadway, the old imam drew his haick closer to conceal his features, and in a hoarse voice said —

“Come, let us quicken our footsteps, so that thou mayest bear witness, ere it be too late.”

Chapter Forty.

The Key to the Mystery

Onward we went across the camel market, where a body of the Ennitra were carousing, and, having managed to escape their notice in the deep shadow, we hurriedly traversed several irregularly-built streets, wherein corpses lay thickly, mute witnesses of the frightful massacre; then suddenly we plunged into a narrow, tortuous passage that I remembered I had sped along in my wild scamper for life after fleeing from my taskmasters. The further we went, the nearer we approached the houses that were burning unchecked like veritable furnaces, and as we rounded a bend in the narrow, alley-like thoroughfare, where was situated the well called Shedwánka, and came into full view of the great fire, my guide gave vent to an ejaculation of dismay.

“Behold!” he cried excitedly. “The flames! They are spreading rapidly, and will consume that upon which thine eyes must rest. Let us hasten with all speed!”

This portion of the city seemed deserted, therefore we dashed forward with one accord, the imam’s nimbleness of foot surprising me. It was well that none of Hadj Absalam’s cut-throats detected us, otherwise my guide would no doubt have fallen a victim to their ever-increasing bloodthirstiness. No one had been spared. The whole city had been mercilessly swept with fire and sword.

As we drew nearer, we could see plainly that the great conflagration was spreading in our direction, for the heat and smoke stifled us, and great sparks fell in showers around. Suddenly, however, he halted before the arched door of an ancient house, towards which the flames were rapidly darting. Indeed, only two houses remained uninjured between us and the blazing, roaring mass, and already they were being licked by great tongues of fire.

“Though dangers beset thee, O Roumi, let not fear dwell within thee,” my aged companion said, taking a key from the inner pocket of his gandoura and quickly unlocking the heavy door. “Know, O wanderer from beyond seas, thou now goest in with me unto the bower of Al Barzakh, the Presence-chamber of the Marvellous, whence those who enter issue forth changed men!”

“Changed?” I cried, amazed. “Shall I also be changed?”

“A transformation, strange but invisible, is wrought in all who enter here,” he croaked, as, breathless and excited, with eyes smarting under the choking volumes of smoke, I stumbled onward after him. Closing the door quickly, he sped across the open patio, into which pieces of ignited wood were falling thickly, and entered another door the arch of which was supported by handsome twisted columns of marble. Through two small apartments, hung with beautiful hangings and furnished with luxurious divans, we passed, until he halted at a door which sprang open at his touch. Evidently it opened by means of a spring, but I sought not explanation, for I held my breath, wondering into what strange chamber I was about to enter. With mumbled words, as he fingered his rosary, Mohammed ben Ishak advanced slowly into the darkness, where a single light in a globe of cut crystal glimmered without illuminating the objects around. As we stepped inside, and the door closed after us automatically, there was a loud, vicious hiss close to me.

I halted, startled, for I knew the sound was that of a serpent, and I feared to tread, lest its deadly fangs should be fastened in my feet.

The old imam, droning a strange incantatory chant, advanced to the altar upon which the light was burning, and, turning the wick higher, so that it shed a brighter light, raised both hands piously and called aloud for forgiveness.

Glancing about me in amazement, I found that my surroundings, weird and extraordinary, were almost an exact reproduction of the mysterious subterranean temple to which Zoraida had conducted me in Algiers! The black carpet and hangings reminded me vividly of European funeral palls, while the curious open-work screen, the inlaid kursy, or table, of arabesque filigree, and, most remarkable of all, the stone sarcophagus, were all of exactly the same design as those in the mysterious chamber wherein the Crescent of Glorious Wonders had been first revealed unto me.

Amazed, I stood with transfixed gaze and bated breath. There were movements on the carpet, and I became aware of the unpleasant proximity of several snakes. Some coiled themselves and raised their heads, holding them immovable, with their tiny, bead-like eyes riveted upon us, while others darted away, holding themselves on the defensive in darker corners.

A few seconds of silence, and Mohammed ben Ishak turned to me, with hands still uplifted, asking —

“Believest thou that unto Allah belong the hosts of heaven and earth; that Allah is mighty and wise; that unto those who obey the Everlasting Will He showeth mercy?”

“I do,” I answered.

“Speak not with thy tongue that which is not in thine heart, for of a surety they who believe not will be chastised with a severe chastisement,” he exclaimed solemnly. Then again facing the altar, he cried, “Whoso believeth not in the One Allah and in Mohammed his Prophet, verily shall he be cast into the fire prepared for the unbelievers; but whosoever shall perform that which he hath covenanted, so surely shall he receive great reward, and be admitted to the gardens beneath which rivers flow, to dwell therein for ever. Verily hath a Sura been revealed commanding war against the Workers of Iniquity, and they look towards us with the look of those whom death overshadoweth. Those are they whom Allah hath cursed and hath rendered deaf, and whose eyes He hath blinded. Assuredly have we armed ourselves with an armour invulnerable, and we await the word from the Holy City to rise in our might and sweep from earth the Infidels, in obedience to the law that is written. In that day will the Senousya, whose teeth are as spears, and whose tongues are as sharp swords, fight valiantly and persevere with constancy, for they are the True Believers, who will, ere many moons, rejoice with a great rejoicing.”

He paused, prostrating himself, devoutly gabbling a two-bow prayer with many quotations from the Korân, at the same time swaying himself backwards and forwards, throwing his head energetically to and fro till the perspiration streamed down his face. In his paroxysm of religious fervour, he suddenly grasped a serpent and wound it around his head in such a manner that it remained there with its flat head reared in front in the place where an aigrette might have been. Then he arose, and, with the snake still coiled upon him, advanced and held my hands. Instinctively I drew back, for the energy of his devotions had wrought in him a hideous transformation. His cheeks were more sunken, his face seemed but a skull covered by brown, wrinkled skin, and from his wild, wide-open eyes there flashed the terrible fire. With his glittering orbs upon mine, he held me in a grip of steel. Under his searching gaze I flinched, and tried to extricate my hands, but he had pinned me powerless, and so strange was his demeanour that I grew alarmed. He seemed possessed of demon strength; in his hands I was helpless as a child.

I was an Infidel, and he a religious fanatic. Might not this sudden fit of uncontrollable diablerie cause him to kill me?

The fiery eyes had fixed themselves searchingly upon me in a manner that seemed to fascinate and draw me closer towards him, causing my strength to fail, and inducing a feeling of languor and helplessness. Setting my teeth, I struggled against it, and, remembering we were in a house that in a few minutes must fall a prey to the flames, demanded release.

But he took no heed. Crying aloud his intentions of leading the Ghuzzat in a merciless campaign against the Infidel invaders, and predicting that the soldiers of the Faith would obtain great spoils, he suddenly released my left hand, but still kept his grip upon the right.

“Thou desirest to learn the Great Secret,” he exclaimed. “Thou, the beloved of our Queen of Beauty, art the only person to whom the strange wonders may be revealed. Verily I say unto thee, thou must fight a great fight in regions unknown, exerting a power that I will impart to thee, the secret whereof none can discover.”

His eyes seemed to dilate and glow like live coals, while the pain at first caused by the steady pressure upon my wrist was succeeded by a strange tingling sensation, rather pleasant than otherwise. Held in fascination by his glance, every nerve was strained to its utmost tension; then gradually I seemed to sink into a dreamy half-consciousness. With all the self-control I possessed, I strove against the curious delirium into which I was slowly lapsing, but without avail. He held my hand, and with his glaring eyes riveted to mine he seemed gradually to bring me under his thrall by some irresistible magnetic influence. Mingled sensations of delight and repugnance such as I had never before experienced ran through me, and I seemed seized by an indescribable horror of being compelled to perform deeds that in my inner consciousness I regarded as crimes. I felt myself in a state of mind that permitted the creation of hallucinations, for rapidly I saw the weird objects around me distorted into grotesque shapes, sometimes ludicrous, sometimes horrible, with the ever-changing face of Mohammed ben Ishak always the central figure. My limbs felt limp, and I had an inaptitude for any spontaneous action. I was fully conscious of all this, and the inertia alarmed me.

“Verily shalt thou know the Truth that hath so long remained hidden. Thou shalt save the woman thou lovest and who loveth thee so passionately. Behold!” he cried in a loud voice. “Hearken, and likewise let thine eyes bear witness!” and, releasing me, he stepped back to the altar, and, taking a pinch of some white powder, he cast it into the flame of the lamp. Instantly the place was filled by a brilliant light, followed by pungent, suffocating fumes. Then, having repeated this action three times, he drew forth the Wonderful Crescent from his girdle and placed it upon the altar, bowing low in silence.

The strange feeling of half-consciousness faded quickly, and in a few moments I had quite regained my normal state of mind. All had been, I felt convinced, due to over-excitement, combined with the weakness induced by the wound from which I had not yet completely recovered.