Zoraida: A Romance of the Harem and the Great Sahara

“The murderer escaped!” he declared involuntarily, for he had grown pale, and was glaring at me with transfixed, wide-open eyes.

“Yes, quite true, he did escape. He escaped to marry and secure the fortune of the heiress, and —to become Governor-General of Algeria!”

“What – what do you allege?” he gasped, jumping to his feet, his face livid. “Do you impute that I – I committed the murder?”

For a moment I regarded him steadily. Under my gaze he flinched, and his hands trembled as if palsied.

“I impute nothing,” I answered quietly. “I have already in my possession absolute proof of the identity of the murderer.”

“Proof?” he gasped. “What – what do you mean?”

With his eyes fixed upon me, his thin lips quivered as the startling truth dawned suddenly upon him.

“If you desire me to explain, I will,” I said. “Violet Hanbury’s lover, a compatriot of yours, is believed to have committed the crime.”

“It was proved,” he declared quickly. “The knife with which the victim was struck was his, and upon the floor was found a gold pencil-case, with his name engraved upon it; besides, he was seen there by the valet. The police have searched for him everywhere, but he has disappeared.”

“I now appear in his stead to disprove the terrible charge against him – to bring the assassin to justice.”

“If you can,” he said, assuming an air of haughty insolence. “Believe me, m’sieur, I shall have but little difficulty.”

“And the proof! Of what, pray, does it consist?”

“It is something, the existence of which you little dream.”

“Oh!” he cried. “This is infamous!”

“You seek an explanation, therefore I will conceal nothing. When you are before a criminal court, which will be at a date not far distant, M’sieur de Largentière, you will have to explain why the murdered man called on you at Long’s Hotel in Bond Street, in the afternoon of the day of the murder.”

“He did not call.”

“The Court will decide that.”

“Bah! – do your worst. I – I am Governor-General of Algeria, and you – you are an unknown alien.”

“True, you are on French soil, but there is such a thing as extradition. In a week I shall be in London, and then – ”

“What then?” he asked, vainly endeavouring to remain calm.

“I shall place the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard in possession of such facts that your extradition will be immediately demanded.”

“You talk nonsense,” he cried impatiently. “Let us end this interview. I – I am really too busy to listen to such empty threats and idle boasts.”

“My only boast is that I shall be the means of bringing an assassin to justice,” I exclaimed quickly.

“I have not the slightest fear of the consequences of your ridiculous story,” he answered, with a sneer. “You are at liberty to act as you think proper. As for this remarkable evidence which you assert is in your possession, well – I do not know its nature, neither do I care.”

“Perhaps it will be as well if you are acquainted with its nature,” I said. “You declare that Fothergill did not call on you at Long’s on that day?”

“Most decidedly I do. I had not seen him for quite a week prior to the tragedy.”

“Then would it surprise you very much to know that, an hour after calling on you in Bond Street, he wrote to the man who is now suspected of the crime, telling him the details of that interview – ”

“The details?” he echoed, amazed.

“Yes, the details,” I repeated. “They were given very minutely regarding Mariette Lestrade and her relations with you, your efforts to preserve your secret, and your threats of violence should he divulge anything to prejudice you in the eyes of Lord Isleworth.”

“Absurd. No such letter was ever written.”

“It was,” I replied, and drawing slowly from my pocket a piece of folded paper, I added, “Its original still exists, and I have a copy here.”

“The – the dead man – wrote it?” he gasped, turning ashen pale.

“Yes. It will prove interesting reading at the trial. Glance at it for yourself.”

Taking the sheet of paper, he held it to the lamp with trembling fingers. As he eagerly devoured its contents, his eyes seemed starting from his head, so wildly did he glare at it. For several moments he stood, supporting himself by the back of his chair.

“A denunciation from the grave,” I said. “It makes your motive plain, and shows your crime was premeditated. When your rival left England, the circumstantial evidence was strongly against him, and though innocent, he was unable to prove an alibi, but that letter will render the discovery of the murderer an easy task.”

“You are not my judge!”

“The man accused had no motives for murdering Jack Fothergill – you had.”

“Motives do not convict in France, even if they do in England.”

“But evidence of the crime does.”

“Evidence – I – I – ”

Looking steadily for a few moments into his thin face, drawn and haggard, I said at last —

“It is useless to deny your guilt, M’sieur de Largentière. The proof you have in your hand, in combination with the alibi that the man suspected will be able to prove, is quite sufficient to secure your conviction. The punishment for murder is death in my country, as in yours.”

“I – I deny it,” he said, with a strange, wild look of mingled fear and indignation. “Your so-called proof is mere waste paper. It would not be accepted in evidence.”

“I hold a different opinion. Remember the letter was posted and the envelope bears the post-mark. It was written by Fothergill himself, and bears his signature.”

“Let me see it.”

“No. It may be shown to you when you are before the judge, not until then.”

“The accusation is false and infamous!”

“Very well. If you have a perfect answer, you have nothing to fear.”

“Nothing – no, nothing!” he repeated quickly, with a hollow laugh.

“Mariette Lestrade also died mysteriously,” I said, raising my hand towards him. “Fothergill knew your terrible secret – the secret that she did not succumb to natural causes. You committed the second crime in London in order to hide the first in Paris!”

“I – I – ” he stammered, but his lips refused to utter further sound.

“I am well aware of the facts, I assure you,” I exclaimed. “First, however, let me tell you that I hesitate to place the London police in possession of them on account of the terrible shame and degradation your exposure will cause your wife and children. You who hold the highest office in this colony, who are respected and considered just, upright, and above suspicion, would be convicted of two brutal crimes. What would those who shake your hand at your reception to-night say if they knew their amiable Governor was an assassin?”

“Stop!” he cried hoarsely. “Dieu! stop! I – I cannot bear it!”

“It is not for me to heap reproach upon you. You jeered at the suggestion that I could bribe you to allow Zoraida to escape. Do you now refuse the douceur?”

“If she escaped mysteriously – what would my douceur be?”

“My silence.”

“Absolutely?”

“Absolutely.”

“And you would give me the original letter written by Fothergill?”

“No. Though I am prepared to take an oath of silence for the sake of your wife and her children, I make one stipulation, namely, that I shall keep that letter.”

“Then you will always retain that in order to blackmail me?”

“I shall never blackmail you. Cannot you see that I am driven to this course by sheer desperation? Once Zoraida is safe, you will have nothing whatever to fear from me.”

“If – if I could only bury the past completely!” he moaned, gazing wildly around the room. “If only I – I could feel safe!”

“Two courses are open. You must choose between them.”

“To-morrow.”

“No. To-night. I must have your answer now, immediately. If you refuse, I leave by to-morrow’s steamer for England.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the low ticking of the marble clock and the distant strains of a waltz from the ball-room. Into his chair the haughty Governor-General of Algeria had sunk, and, resting his elbows upon the table, had buried his thin, pale face in his hands. I had spoken the truth! His terrible secret was in my keeping. Even at that moment I hated myself for promising to shield him from justice; yet I was determined to save Zoraida, cost what it might. Uzanne was in ignorance of my intention to seek the assassin. Would he regard this action as a breach of confidence?

The man before me, whoso reputation as a statesman was world-wide, and whose virtues were extolled in the journals all over Europe, had utterly broken down. He saw that if he connived at Zoraida’s escape, such indignation would be heaped upon him that he would be hounded from office; while on the other hand, if he refused, my threat of exposure undoubtedly meant the gallows. He recognised that I was determined, and was completely nonplussed.

“Henri, dear!” cried a voice outside the door. “Have you concluded your business? Do go and dress.”

Starting up wildly, he rushed to the door, and, turning the key, stood panting with his back against it.

“Yes, in five minutes – in five minutes I – I shall be at liberty,” he answered, with difficulty. Then we both listened, and heard a woman’s footsteps receding along the corridor.

“Have you decided?” I asked.

Again he tottered across the room to his chair.

“I – I have,” he gasped hoarsely, with bent head.

“What is your decision?”

“That she shall escape. She must leave the country immediately. If the secret that I conspired to set her free ever transpires, my career is doomed. Have you any suggestion to offer as to – as to the manner the flight shall be accomplished?”

“She must be placed on board an English ship,” I said. “In the hotel I noticed a placard announcing the calling of the steam pleasure-yacht Victoria, and that the vessel will depart for Gibraltar and London at two o’clock to-morrow morning. Would there be any chance of sailing in her?”

“Ah! I had forgotten! That vessel is now lying outside the harbour,” he cried suddenly, looking up into my face. “A friend of mine is returning to England in her. He told me yesterday that there were several vacant berths. Seek Stuart Bankhardt, the agent in the Rampe Chasseloup-Laubat, and secure two places. Then go on board and wait.”

“Nothing else?”

“No. The captain will be given an explanation, and your fiancée, in European dress, will be placed on board before you sail.”

Rising quickly, he went over to the telephone and rang the bell. In a few moments the answering bell tinkled, and into the transmitter he shouted —

“Send Jacques to my private room immediately.”

Turning again to me, he asked —

“Are you satisfied?”

“If you fulfil your promise.”

“I shall,” he answered hoarsely. “And you, on your part, swear before Heaven that my – my secret shall never pass your lips?”

“I do.”

Grasping my hand quickly with cold, trembling fingers, he gripped it as in a vice, then, bowing stiffly, he said in a low, strained voice —

“Bon soir, m’sieur. Adieu.”

I murmured some words, expressing a hope that we should never again meet, and a few seconds later strode out and along the marble corridor to the great entrance hall.

Chapter Forty Six.

Some Amazing Facts

With eyes eagerly strained in the direction of the harbour, where hundreds of lights shimmered upon the dark, restless waters, I leaned over the taffrail of the steam yacht in anxious expectation. We were anchored some distance outside the harbour, with our bows seaward.

The clock of the mosque had struck half-past one. There was dead silence everywhere, save for the lazy lapping of the waves upon the sides of the steamer, and an occasional distant shout among the shipping inside the breakwater. Moon and stars had become obscured, but ever and anon the revolving light shed its white beams over many miles of shining water, appearing and disappearing with monotonous regularity. From the glass-covered roof of the saloon came a mellow glow of electricity that showed the bearded, rugged face of the solitary British sailor who paced the deck. On the extreme left of the White City, half concealed by the huge breakwater, loomed the great dark walls of Fort Bab Azzoun, wherein Zoraida was incarcerated, and from the shadows of which I expected every moment to see a boat emerge. But though time dragged on, and the escaping steam, increasing in volume, showed that we should soon weigh anchor, I could distinguish nothing. Minutes dragged like days. What if, after all, my efforts failed?

Sailors tramped the deck, orders were shouted from the bridge, ropes were coiled, and a steam-winch whirred with metallic ring. At last the ship’s bell tolled. It was two o’clock!

Still I strained my eyes towards the land, but could detect no moving object. Had the Governor-General deceived me? As each precious moment went by, I began to think he had. From above an order was given, four seamen rushed past me, and in a few moments the anchor was being slowly hauled up. Three long dismal shrieks from the steam siren echoed over the water and among the hills, and just as they died away I heard a distant shout. Dashing headlong to the opposite side of the ship, and peering away into the darkness, my heart gave a bound, for approaching gradually nearer was a boat containing three occupants.

It was hailed by the officer on the bridge, the electric signal rang into the engine-room, and the propeller, that had already begun to revolve, was immediately silent. Quickly the oars dipped, and the two rowers strained every muscle, until at last they drew alongside. A rope was thrown, made fast, and without delay a female figure, enveloped in a long dark travelling-cloak, the hood of which, drawn over her head, concealed her features, was hauled unceremoniously on board.

“Where am I?” I heard her cry in Arabic, alarmed at finding herself standing on deck between two rough sailors, whose language was strange to her.

Advancing quickly, I placed my hand upon her arm, replying in her own tongue —

“Have no fear. I have at last secured thy release. Thou art free! See! already we are on our way to England!”

“Ah! – Ce-cil!” she cried gladly, flinging her arms around my neck, and shedding tears of joy. “I – I thought thou wert lost to me for ever!”

“I made a promise which I have fulfilled,” I said, leading her back to the taffrail, where, alone and unobserved, I kissed her fondly, she returning my caresses with a passion that showed how well she loved me. The dress she wore, though fitting her badly, was of a thick, coarse material, well adapted for travelling, but the cloak covered it, and beyond her speech there was nothing about her to show she was a child of the Desert. Her skin was almost as fair as an Englishwoman’s, and her bright, luminous eyes had not become dimmed by the weeks of imprisonment, harsh treatment, and mental agony.

As the captain signalled “full steam ahead,” and the boat that had brought my idol from the shore was cast off with a shout of farewell, I told her briefly that I was taking her away to my own people, where we should be married and live always in ease and comfort. Locked in each other’s arms, I related how I, at the last moment, had learned the key to the Great Secret from Mohammed ben Ishak, and how subsequently I had discovered the wonderful Treasure of Askiá.

“Yes,” she said, bowing her head. “I knew of its existence, but dared not break my oath. Forgive me – forgive me! – I am not worthy to be thy wife.”

“Why?”

“Because – because I allowed thee to risk thy life when I might have obviated thy danger by confessing all to thee,” she answered, her trembling hand grasping my wrist.

“Wilt thou explain everything to me now?” I asked.

“Yes, everything,” she said. “I have left my people. The bond between the Senousya and myself is broken, for I go now with thee to the country of the Roumis, and nothing have I to conceal. Ah! thou knowest not the grim tragedy of my life.”

“But thou hast given me wealth, and with thee I shall obtain perfect happiness.”

“I trust in thee,” she said. “I go to thine unknown world with thee, for I know thou lovest me. Now that thou hast given me freedom and a new life, I will relate unto thee the story of my bitter past.”

Together we leaned upon the rail, and with the cool sea-breeze fanning our temples, we watched the ever-lengthening line of foam left by the propeller, as the distant, twinkling lights of the city faded in the gloom. The other passengers were below in their berths, and as we stood together unobserved, she explained to me things that I had through so many months regarded as impenetrable mysteries.

“My traducers and my persecutors have always spoken of me as a daughter of the Ennitra,” she commenced. “They were mistaken. I was in no way related to any of that fiendish band. My father was Sheikh of the Beni M’zab, and at his death he entrusted to me, his only child, an ancient tablet of wood, together with the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, telling me that for generations these had been in the possession of our family, and that they would lead to an extraordinary discovery; at the same time, causing me to take solemn oath to divulge nothing that he told me. I was held to secrecy by a bond of blood. About one moon after my father’s death, our caravan encamped at the palms of El Maessifer, on the border of the Touat Oasis, and at night we were attacked by the Ennitra. The massacre was awful. The majority of our men were slaughtered, our caravan looted, and the women and children, myself included, carried off to Hadj Absalam’s palace in the mountains. Already I had learned many feats of magic of the sorcerer of our tribe, and my father had initiated me as a priestess of the Senousya; so with the Crescent and the strangely-carved wooden tablet in my possession, I resolved to try, if possible, to preserve mine honour by declaring myself possessed of miraculous powers. Already had I heard that our enemies the Ennitra were highly superstitious, therefore I strove to impress my captors by performing some simple but astonishing feats of legerdemain. This so impressed the men who held me in bondage, that when we arrived at the palace, they brought me before Hadj Absalam, who himself witnessed some of my feats. He acknowledged himself astounded, and ordered me to be sent to his harem as a portion of the spoils of war.”

“To his harem?” I cried, interrupting.

“Yes. An hour later he came to me, and it was then I produced the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, declaring that it bestowed upon its rightful owner good fortune and victory in the field. At once he desired to possess it, but I pointed out that the strange talisman would only bring ill-fortune to one who possessed himself of it forcibly, and at length succeeded in making a compact with him, whereby I should exert its mystic powers on behalf of his tribe, in return for which, he would refrain from taking me to his harem, and treat me as a daughter, and not as a wife. The arrangement was a perfectly equitable one, and proved satisfactory, for a week later, bearing the Crescent, I led an expedition against the Tédjéhé-n’ou-Sidi with such success that we secured nineteen camel-loads of booty, and took one hundred and ninety prisoners. From that moment, though I hated Hadj Absalam and his crafty councillor Labakan, I became their leader and their prophetess. Through the regions of the Tanezrouft, the Ahaggar, and the Tidjoudjelt we rushed with fire and sword, always proving victorious. We were feared on every hand. Against the Spahis, Turcos, and Chasseurs we advanced time after time with the Drum of Nâr – which had been captured from my tribe – spreading terror, panic, and death, until the people, with one accord, acknowledged that I was possessed of power supernatural. I became revered as a prophetess, and earned the appellation of Daughter of the Sun. Meanwhile, from the lips of a soothsayer, Hadj Absalam had learned a romantic, and not altogether unfounded, legend regarding the Crescent, and having obtained a vague suspicion of its mysterious connection with the Treasure of Askiá, offered me my liberty if I could discover the whereabouts of the hidden jewels. Mohammed ben Ishak, who held the key to the mystery, was, however, in Agadez, and though I was striving always to elude the vigilance of my captors, yet I was utterly helpless.”

Briefly I told her of the imam’s tragic death at the hands of the marabout.

“The old tomb-dweller, whom both Mohammed and I could cause to assume cataleptic rigidity at will, and who assisted at the Ramadân seances of the Senousya, was a deaf mute and a fanatic,” she observed. “Doubtless he struck the blow, because he considered that by thine introduction to that place – one of the principal sanctuaries of the sect – Mohammed ben Ishak was revealing unto thee, an unbeliever, the secrets he had sworn to preserve.” Then, continuing her story, she said: “At last, after the attack on the caravan of the worthy Ali Ben Hafiz, which resulted in thy capture, I saw thee for the first time and released thee. I confess I loved thee, and was determined to escape and become thy wife. Knowing so little of the manners of the Roumis, I believed that the most secure way in which to cause thee to reciprocate my affection, was to impress thee with an idea of my magical powers. With that object I caused thee to be conducted to Hadj Absalam’s house in Algiers, where I took thee below to the subterranean meeting-place of the supreme council of the Senousya, and there showed thee some marvels of magic to mystify thee. The snakes thou sawest were those used in the religious rites of the Aïssáwà, but quite harmless, being kept merely to create an impression of mystical power. I raised from his tomb a marabout, – who, though apparently dead, was only in a cataleptic state, – by an effort of the will, the secret of which was imparted to me by my dead father; and by a feat of magic I caused to be revealed to thee the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, sending thee away to distant Agadez, in order that thou shouldest learn the key of the mystery from the chief imam, the only person besides myself who knew of the inscription upon the wooden tablet. He was my father’s half-brother, and had left our tribe to devote his life to the administration of the daily prayers in the City of the Sorcerers. At the moment thou hadst left me, Hadj Absalam returned. He had detected thy presence, and in a frenzy of passion struck me down, causing the wound in my side that thou hast already witnessed. While alone with me, thou hadst promised to seek no explanation of any of the mysteries until thou hadst returned to Agadez. In order, therefore, to test thy faith in me, I caused to be sent thee the hand of a dead servant, upon the finger of which I placed my rings with thine. I little dreamed, however, that I was so closely watched, or that Hadj Absalam had ordered Labakan to follow, regain possession of the Crescent, and assassinate thee. After thou hadst left for Agadez, I heard from time to time of thee, until suddenly there came the startling news of thy capture and thy detention within the Fáda. At once I proposed to the Ennitra an attack upon Agadez, pointing out that, owing to the assassination of the Sultan, the country was in a disturbed state. A great council was held, and the prospect of the enormous amount of loot that might be secured caused them to decide upon carrying out my proposal. Little time was lost, although, alas! in the meantime Labakan had followed thee, and secured thy release in order to kill thee. Of the attack, the victory, and the horrible massacre thou art well aware.”

“I am. It was frightful.”

“Ah! believe me, it was not my fault. True, I suggested the attack, but it was in order to secure thy release, so that thou couldst gain the Great Secret, and discover the Treasure that would bring me liberty, and wealth unto thee. I had no idea but that thou wert still a slave within the palace, until thy sudden arrival with my waiting-maid Halima at our camp. Then I dared not withdraw, and was compelled to send forth the Drum of Nâr, and lead our fierce band onward into battle. Then, alas! even before we had fully occupied the city, the French troops descended upon us, and after a desperate conflict we fell into their hands.”

“Hadj Absalam and Labakan will receive their due reward. They will be hurried to the guillotine,” I said.