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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14301-0.txt b/14301-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55978f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8779 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14301 *** + + "First, I must warn you, +before beginning this work, +not to be surprised to hear +me calling barbarians by +Grecian names." + --PLATO + _Critias_ + + ATLANTIDA + + _Pierre Benoit_ + + Translated by Mary C. Tongue and Mary Ross + + ACE BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036 + + + To André Suarès + + +[Illustration] + + + + +HASSI-INIFEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1903. + + +If the following pages are ever to see the light of day it will be +because they have been stolen from me. The delay that I exact before +they shall be disclosed assures me of that.[1] + +[Footnote 1: This letter, together with the manuscript which +accompanies it, the latter in a separate sealed envelope, was +entrusted by Lieutenant Ferrières, of the 3rd Spahis, the day of the +departure of that officer for the Tassili of the Tuareg (Central +Sahara), to Sergeant Chatelain. The sergeant was instructed to deliver +it, on his next leave, to M. Leroux, Honorary Counsel at the Court of +Appeals at Riom, and Lieutenant Ferrières' nearest relative. As this +magistrate died suddenly before the expiration of the term of ten +years set for the publication of the manuscript here presented, +difficulties arose which have delayed its publication up to the +present date.] + +As to this disclosure, let no one distrust my aim when I prepare for +it, when I insist upon it. You may believe me when I maintain that no +pride of authorship binds me to these pages. Already I am too far +removed from all such things. Only it is useless that others should +enter upon the path from which I shall not return. + +Four o'clock in the morning. Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with +its pink fire. All about me the bordj is asleep. Through the half-open +door of his room I hear André de Saint-Avit breathing quietly, very +quietly. + +In two days we shall start, he and I. We shall leave the bordj. We +shall penetrate far down there to the South. The official orders came +this morning. + +Now, even if I wished to withdraw, it is too late. André and I asked +for this mission. The authorization that I sought, together with him, +has at this moment become an order. The hierarchic channels cleared, +the pressure brought to bear at the Ministry;--and then to be afraid, +to recoil before this adventure!... + +To be afraid, I said. I know that I am not afraid! One night in the +Gurara, when I found two of my sentinels slaughtered, with the +shameful cross cut of the Berbers slashed across their stomachs--then +I was afraid. I know what fear is. Just so now, when I gazed into the +black depths, whence suddenly all at once the great red sun will rise, +I know that it is not with fear that I tremble. I feel surging within +me the sacred horror of this mystery, and its irresistible attraction. + +Delirious dreams, perhaps. The mad imaginings of a brain surcharged, +and an eye distraught by mirages. The day will come, doubtless, when I +shall reread these pages with an indulgent smile, as a man of fifty is +accustomed to smile when he rereads old letters. + +Delirious dreams. Mad imaginings. But these dreams, these imaginings, +are dear to me. "Captain de Saint-Avit and Lieutenant Ferrières," +reads the official dispatch, "will proceed to Tassili to determine the +statigraphic relation of Albien sandstone and carboniferous limestone. +They will, in addition, profit by any opportunities of determining the +possible change of attitude of the Axdjers towards our penetration, +etc." If the journey should indeed have to do only with such poor +things I think that I should never undertake it. + +So I am longing for what I dread. I shall be dejected if I do not +find myself in the presence of what makes me strangely fearful. + +In the depths of the valley of Wadi Mia a jackal is barking. Now and +again, when a beam of moonlight breaks in a silver patch through the +hollows of the heat-swollen clouds, making him think he sees the young +sun, a turtle dove moans among the palm trees. + +I hear a step outside. I lean out of the window. A shade clad in +luminous black stuff glides over the hard-packed earth of the terrace +of the fortification. A light shines in the electric blackness. A man +has just lighted a cigarette. He crouches, facing southwards. He is +smoking. + +It is Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, our Targa guide, the man who in three days +is to lead us across the unknown plateaus of the mysterious +Imoschaoch, across the hamadas of black stones, the great dried oases, +the stretches of silver salt, the tawny hillocks, the flat gold dunes +that are crested over, when the "alizé" blows, with a shimmering haze +of pale sand. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! He is the man. There recurs to my mind Duveyrier's +tragic phrase, "At the very moment the Colonel was putting his foot in +the stirrup he was felled by a sabre blow."[2] Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! +There he is, peacefully smoking his cigarette, a cigarette from the +package that I gave him.... May the Lord forgive me for it. + +[Footnote 2: H. Duveyrier, "The Disaster of the Flatters Mission." +Bull. Geol. Soc., 1881.] + +The lamp casts a yellow light on the paper. Strange fate, which, I +never knew exactly why, decided one day when I was a lad of sixteen +that I should prepare myself for Saint Cyr, and gave me there André de +Saint-Avit as classmate. I might have studied law or medicine. Then I +should be today a respectable inhabitant of a town with a church and +running water, instead of this cotton-clad phantom, brooding with an +unspeakable anxiety over this desert which is about to swallow me. + +A great insect has flown in through the window. It buzzes, strikes +against the rough cast, rebounds against the globe of the lamp, and +then, helpless, its wings singed by the still burning candle, drops on +the white paper. + +It is an African May bug, big, black, with spots of livid gray. + +I think of others, its brothers in France, the golden-brown May bugs, +which I have seen on stormy summer evenings projecting themselves like +little particles of the soil of my native countryside. It was there +that as a child I spent my vacations, and later on, my leaves. On my +last leave, through those same meadows, there wandered beside me a +slight form, wearing a thin scarf, because of the evening air, so cool +back there. But now this memory stirs me so slightly that I scarcely +raise my eyes to that dark corner of my room where the light is dimly +reflected by the glass of an indistinct portrait. I realize of how +little consequence has become what had seemed at one time capable of +filling all my life. This plaintive mystery is of no more interest to +me. If the strolling singers of Rolla came to murmur their famous +nostalgic airs under the window of this bordj I know that I should not +listen to them, and if they became insistent I should send them on +their way. + +What has been capable of causing this metamorphosis in me? A story, a +legend, perhaps, told, at any rate by one on whom rests the direst of +suspicions. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has finished his cigarette. I hear him returning +with slow steps to his mat, in barrack B, to the left of the guard +post. + +Our departure being scheduled for the tenth of November, the +manuscript attached to this letter was begun on Sunday, the first, and +finished on Thursday, the fifth of November, 1903. + +OLIVIER FERRIÈRES, Lt. 3rd Spahis. + + + + +I + +A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT + + +Sunday, the sixth of June, 1903, broke the monotony of the life that +we were leading at the Post of Hassi-Inifel by two events of unequal +importance, the arrival of a letter from Mlle. de C----, and the +latest numbers of the Official Journal of the French Republic. + +"I have the Lieutenant's permission?" said Sergeant Chatelain, +beginning to glance through the magazines he had just removed from +their wrappings. + +I acquiesced with a nod, already completely absorbed in reading Mlle. +de C----'s letter. + +"When this reaches you," was the gist of this charming being's letter, +"mama and I will doubtless have left Paris for the country. If, in +your distant parts, it might be a consolation to imagine me as bored +here as you possibly can be, make the most of it. The Grand Prix is +over. I played the horse you pointed out to me, and naturally, I lost. +Last night we dined with the Martials de la Touche. Elias Chatrian was +there, always amazingly young. I am sending you his last book, which +has made quite a sensation. It seems that the Martials de la Touche +are depicted there without disguise. I will add to it Bourget's last, +and Loti's, and France's, and two or three of the latest music hall +hits. In the political word, they say the law about congregations will +meet with strenuous opposition. Nothing much in the theatres. I have +taken out a summer subscription for _l'Illustration_. Would you care +for it? In the country no one knows what to do. Always the same lot of +idiots ready for tennis. I shall deserve no credit for writing to you +often. Spare me your reflections concerning young Combemale. I am less +than nothing of a feminist, having too much faith in those who tell me +that I am pretty, in yourself in particular. But indeed, I grow wild +at the idea that if I permitted myself half the familiarities with one +of our lads that you have surely with your Ouled-Nails.... Enough of +that, it is too unpleasant an idea." + +I had reached this point in the prose of this advanced young woman +when a scandalized exclamation of the Sergeant made me look up. + +"Lieutenant!" + +"Yes?" + +"They are up to something at the Ministry. See for yourself." + +He handed me the Official. I read: + +"By a decision of the first of May, 1903, Captain de Saint-Avit +(André), unattached, is assigned to the Third Spahis, and appointed +Commandant of the Post of Hassi-Inifel." + +Chatelain's displeasure became fairly exuberant. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit, Commandant of the Post. A post which has never +had a slur upon it. They must take us for a dumping ground." + +My surprise was as great as the Sergeant's. But just then I saw the +evil, weasel-like face of Gourrut, the convict we used as clerk. He +had stopped his scrawling and was listening with a sly interest. + +"Sergeant, Captain de Saint-Avit is my ranking classmate," I answered +dryly. + +Chatelain saluted, and left the room. I followed. + +"There, there," I said, clapping him on the back, "no hard feelings. +Remember that in an hour we are starting for the oasis. Have the +cartridges ready. It is of the utmost importance to restock the +larder." + +I went back to the office and motioned Gourrut to go. Left alone, I +finished Mlle. de C----'s letter very quickly, and then reread the +decision of the Ministry giving the post a new chief. + +It was now five months that I had enjoyed that distinction, and on my +word, I had accepted the responsibility well enough, and been very +well pleased with the independence. I can even affirm, without taking +too much credit for myself, that under my command discipline had been +better maintained than under Captain Dieulivol, Saint-Avit's +predecessor. A brave man, this Captain Dieulivol, a non-commissioned +officer under Dodds and Duchesne, but subject to a terrible propensity +for strong liquors, and too much inclined, when he had drunk, to +confuse his dialects, and to talk to a Houassa in Sakalave. No one was +ever more sparing of the post water supply. One morning when he was +preparing his absinthe in the presence of the Sergeant, Chatelain, +noticing the Captain's glass, saw with amazement that the green liquor +was blanched by a far stronger admixture of water than usual. He +looked up, aware that something abnormal had just occurred. Rigid, the +carafe inverted in his hand, Captain Dieulivol was spilling the water +which was running over on the sugar. He was dead. + +For six months, since the disappearance of this sympathetic old +tippler, the Powers had not seemed to interest themselves in finding +his successor. I had even hoped at times that a decision might be +reached investing me with the rights that I was in fact exercising.... +And today this surprising appointment. + +Captain de Saint-Avit. He was of my class at St. Cyr. I had lost track +of him. Then my attention had been attracted to him by his rapid +advancement, his decoration, the well-deserved recognition of three +particularly daring expeditions of exploration to Tebesti and the Air; +and suddenly, the mysterious drama of his fourth expedition, that +famous mission undertaken with Captain Morhange, from which only one +of the explorers came back. Everything is forgotten quickly in France. +That was at least six years ago. I had not heard Saint-Avit mentioned +since. I had even supposed that he had left the army. And now, I was +to have him as my chief. + +"After all, what's the difference," I mused, "he or another! At school +he was charming, and we have had only the most pleasant relationships. +Besides, I haven't enough yearly income to afford the rank of +Captain." + +And I left the office, whistling as I went. + + * * * * * + +We were now, Chatelain and I, our guns resting on the already cooling +earth, beside the pool that forms the center of the meager oasis, +hidden behind a kind of hedge of alfa. The setting sun was reddening +the stagnant ditches which irrigate the poor garden plots of the +sedentary blacks. + +Not a word during the approach. Not a word during the shoot. Chatelain +was obviously sulking. + +In silence we knocked down, one after the other, several of the +miserable doves which came on dragging wings, heavy with the heat of +the day, to quench their thirst at the thick green water. When a +half-dozen slaughtered little bodies were lined up at our feet I put +my hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. + +"Chatelain!" + +He trembled. + +"Chatelain, I was rude to you a little while ago. Don't be angry. It +was the bad time before the siesta. The bad time of midday." + +"The Lieutenant is master here," he answered in a tone that was meant +to be gruff, but which was only strained. + +"Chatelain, don't be angry. You have something to say to me. You know +what I mean." + +"I don't know really. No, I don't know." + +"Chatelain, Chatelain, why not be sensible? Tell me something about +Captain de Saint-Avit." + +"I know nothing." He spoke sharply. + +"Nothing? Then what were you saying a little while ago?" + +"Captain de Saint-Avit is a brave man." He muttered the words with his +head still obstinately bent. "He went alone to Bilma, to the Air, +quite alone to those places where no one had ever been. He is a brave +man." + +"He is a brave man, undoubtedly," I answered with great restraint. +"But he murdered his companion, Captain Morhange, did he not?" + +The old Sergeant trembled. + +"He is a brave man," he persisted. + +"Chatelain, you are a child. Are you afraid that I am going to repeat +what you say to your new Captain?" + +I had touched him to the quick. He drew himself up. + +"Sergeant Chatelain is afraid of no one, Lieutenant. He has been at +Abomey, against the Amazons, in a country where a black arm started +out from every bush to seize your leg, while another cut it off for +you with one blow of a cutlass." + +"Then what they say, what you yourself--" + +"That is talk." + +"Talk which is repeated in France, Chatelain, everywhere." + +He bent his head still lower without replying. + +"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?" + +"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know, +or nothing--" + +"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I +give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you +except on official business." + +Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans--myself, the +Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its +effect. + +"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But +afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a +superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I +overheard at mess." + +"Tell away." + +"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th +Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the +Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth. +The marketing, the accounts, recording the library books which were +borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,--for +with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined +at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon +as he was seated, called for silence: + +"'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I +shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the +_City of Naples_ lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit, +recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.' + +"The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to +be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed +ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an +officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and +invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He +pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of +the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit +meant--one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs. + +"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that +perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard. + +"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen, +and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and +the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to +hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an +officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a +comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is +the matter on which I ask your advice.' + +"There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them +suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants. +In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried +not to make the least sound that might recall my presence. + +"'We thank you, Colonel,' one of the majors finally replied, 'for your +courtesy in consulting us. All my comrades, I imagine, know to what +terrible rumors you refer. If I may venture to say so, in Paris at the +Army Geographical Service, where I was before coming here, most of the +officers of the highest standing had an opinion on this unfortunate +matter which they avoided stating, but which cast no glory upon +Captain de Saint-Avit.' + +"'I was at Bammako, at the time of the Morhange-Saint-Avit mission,' +said a Captain. 'The opinion of the officers there, I am sorry to say, +differed very little from what the Major describes. But I must add +that they all admitted that they had nothing but suspicions to go on. +And suspicions are certainly not enough considering the atrocity of +the affair.' + +"'They are quite enough, gentlemen,' replied the Colonel, 'to account +for our hesitation. It is not a question of passing judgment; but no +man can sit at our table as a matter of right. It is a privilege based +on fraternal esteem. The only question is whether it is your decision +to accord it to Saint-Avit.' + +"So saying, he looked at the officers, as if he were taking a roll +call. One after another they shook their heads. + +"'I see that we agree,' he said. 'But our task is unfortunately not +yet over. The _City of Naples_ will be in port tomorrow morning. The +launch which meets the passengers leaves at eight o'clock. It will be +necessary, gentlemen, for one of you to go aboard. Captain de +Saint-Avit might be expecting to come to us. We certainly have no +intention of inflicting upon him the humiliation of refusing him, if +he presented himself in expectation of the customary reception. He +must be prevented from coming. It will be wisest to make him +understand that it is best for him to stay aboard.' + +"The Colonel looked at the officers again. They could not but agree. +But how uncomfortable each one looked! + +"'I cannot hope to find a volunteer among you for this kind of +mission, so I am compelled to appoint some one. Captain Grandjean, +Captain de Saint-Avit is also a Captain. It is fitting that it be an +officer of his own rank who carries him our message. Besides, you are +the latest comer here. Therefore it is to you that I entrust this +painful interview. I do not need to suggest that you conduct it as +diplomatically as possible.' + +"Captain Grandjean bowed, while a sigh of relief escaped from all the +others. As long as the Colonel stayed in the room Grandjean remained +apart, without speaking. It was only after the chief had departed that +he let fall the words: "'There are some things that ought to count a +good deal for promotion.' + +"The next day at luncheon everyone was impatient for his return. + +"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly. + +"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table +where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious +for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to +melt, a full glass of absinthe. + +"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel. + +"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on +shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!' + +"The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their +anxious curiosity. + +"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water. + +"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I +went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in +the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I +could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to +go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench +and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented +myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed +somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed +something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near +the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say? +How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows +on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then, +of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at +me coolly and said: + +"'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much +trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no +intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having +made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you +must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by +the vessel.' + +"Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the +cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that we had mutual +acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant +look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't +know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of +the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion. +Such a man, capable of such a crime,--believe me, it is not possible. + +"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I +have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried +through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of +depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this +complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the +_City of Naples_, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a +league from shore. + +"She was still there in the evening when they assembled for dinner, +and it was not until a blast of the whistle, followed by curls of +smoke escaping from the red and black smokestack had announced the +departure of the vessel for Gabes, that conversation was resumed; and +even then, less gaily than usual. + +"After that, Lieutenant, at the Officers' Club at Sfax, they avoided +like the plague any subject which risked leading the conversation back +to Captain de Saint-Avit." + +Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the +desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we +had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once +more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds +were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked +the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so +that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze. + +"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj." + +Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me +reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the +time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to +break our desolate silence with a single word. + +The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which +surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but +already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had +disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the +sky. + +When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me. + +"I am going to the stables," he said. + +I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the +Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible +sadness weighed upon me. + +I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must +be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed, +their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes. + +"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station." + +The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams +of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered. + +A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His +back was toward me. He did not hear me enter. + +"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make +yourself completely at home." + +The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very +pale. + +"Lieutenant Ferrières, is it not?" + +He advanced, holding out his hand. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow." + +At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold. + +"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the +little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want +of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at +Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were +you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I +found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie. +We will change all that, I hope. At ease." + +"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while Chatelain +remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was +with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the +post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every +point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival--" + +"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant, +I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences +which attach to your office. He is not obliged to know that the +officer who abandons a post like Hassi-Inifel, if it is only for two +hours, risks not finding much left on his return. The Chaamba +brigands, my dear sir, love firearms, and for the sake of the sixty +muskets in your racks, I am sure they would not scruple to make an +officer, whose otherwise excellent record is well known to me, account +for his absence to a court-martial. Come with me, if you please. We +will finish the little inspection I began too rapidly a little while +ago." + +He was already on the stairs. I followed in his footsteps. Chatelain +closed the order of march. I heard him murmuring, in a tone which you +can imagine: + +"Well, we are in for it now!" + + + + +II + +CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT + + +A few days sufficed to convince us that Chatelain's fears as to our +official relations with the new chief were vain. Often I have thought +that by the severity he showed at our first encounter Saint-Avit +wished to create a formal barrier, to show us that he knew how to keep +his head high in spite of the weight of his heavy past. Certain it is +that the day after his arrival, he showed himself in a very different +light, even complimenting the Sergeant on the upkeep of the post and +the instruction of the men. To me he was charming. + +"We are of the same class, aren't we?" he said to me. "I don't have +to ask you to dispense with formalities, it is your right." + +Vain marks of confidence, alas! False witnesses to a freedom of +spirit, one in face of the other. What more accessible in appearance +than the immense Sahara, open to all those who are willing to be +engulfed by it? Yet what is more secret? After six months of +companionship, of communion of life such as only a Post in the South +offers, I ask myself if the most extraordinary of my adventures is not +to be leaving to-morrow, toward unsounded solitudes, with a man whose +real thoughts are as unknown to me as these same solitudes, for which +he has succeeded in making me long. + +The first surprise which was given me by this singular companion was +occasioned by the baggage that followed him. + +On his inopportune arrival, alone, from Wargla, he had trusted to the +Mehari he rode only what can be carried without harm by such a +delicate beast,--his arms, sabre and revolver, a heavy carbine, and a +very reduced pack. The rest did not arrive till fifteen days later, +with the convoy which supplied the post. + +Three cases of respectable dimensions were carried one after another +to the Captain's room, and the grimaces of the porters said enough as +to their weight. + +I discreetly left Saint-Avit to his unpacking and began opening the +mail which the convoy had sent me. + +He returned to the office a little later and glanced at the several +reviews which I had just recieved. + +"So," he said. "You take these." + +He skimmed through, as he spoke, the last number of the _Zeitschrift +der Gesellschaft fur Erdkunde in Berlin_. + +"Yes," I answered. "These gentlemen are kind enough to interest +themselves in my works on the geology of the Wadi Mia and the high +Igharghar." + +"That may be useful to me," he murmured, continuing to turn over the +leaves. + +"It's at your service." + +"Thanks. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you in exchange, except +Pliny, perhaps. And still--you know what he said of Igharghar, +according to King Juba. However, come help me put my traps in place +and you will see if anything appeals to you." + +I accepted without further urging. + +We commenced by unearthing various meteorological and astronomical +instruments--the thermometers of Baudin, Salleron, Fastre, an aneroid, +a Fortin barometer, chronometers, a sextant, an astronomical spyglass, +a compass glass.... In short, what Duveyrier calls the material that +is simplest and easiest to transport on a camel. + +As Saint-Avit handed them to me I arranged them on the only table in +the room. + +"Now," he announced to me, "there is nothing more but books. I will +pass them to you. Pile them up in a corner until I can have a +book-shelf made." + +For two hours altogether I helped him to heap up a real library. And +what a library! Such as never before a post in the South had seen. All +the texts consecrated, under whatever titles, by antiquity to the +regions of the Sahara were reunited between the four rough-cast walls +of that little room of the bordj. Herodotus and Pliny, naturally, and +likewise Strabo and Ptolemy, Pomponius Mela, and Ammien Marcellin. But +besides these names which reassured my ignorance a little, I perceived +those of Corippus, of Paul Orose, of Eratosthenes, of Photius, of +Diodorus of Sicily, of Solon, of Dion Cassius, of Isidor of Seville, +of Martin de Tyre, of Ethicus, of Athenée, the _Scriptores Historiae +Augustae_, the _Itinerarium Antonini Augusti_, the _Geographi Latini +Minores_ of Riese, the _Geographi Graeci Minores_ of Karl Muller.... +Since I have had the occasion to familiarize myself with Agatarchides +of Cos and Artemidorus of Ephesus, but I admit that in this instance +the presence of their dissertations in the saddle bags of a captain of +cavalry caused me some amazement. + +I mention further the _Descrittione dell' Africa_ by Leon l'African, +the _Arabian Histories_ of Ibn-Khaldoun, of Al-Iaquob, of El-Bekri, of +Ibn-Batoutah, of Mahommed El-Tounsi.... In the midst of this Babel, I +remember the names of only two volumes of contemporary French +scholars. There were also the laborious theses of Berlioux[3] and of +Schirmer.[4] + +[Footnote 3: Doctrina Ptolemaei ab injuria recentiorum vindicata, sive +Nilus Superior et Niger verus, hodiernus Eghiren, ab anitiquis +explorati. Paris, 8vo, 1874, with two maps. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +[Footnote 4: De nomine et genere popularum qui berberi vulgo dicuntur. +Paris, 8vo, 1892. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +While I proceeded to make piles of as similar dimensions as possible I +kept saying to myself: + +"To think that I have been believing all this time that in his mission +with Morhange, Saint-Avit was particularly concerned in scientific +observations. Either my memory deceives me strangely or he is riding a +horse of another color. What is sure is that there is nothing for me +in the midst of all this chaos." + +He must have read on my face the signs of too apparently expressed +surprise, for he said in a tone in which I divined a tinge of +defiance: + +"The choice of these books surprises you a bit?" + +"I can't say it surprises me," I replied, "since I don't know the +nature of the work for which you have collected them. In any case I +dare say, without fear of being contradicted, that never before has +officer of the Arabian Office possessed a library in which the +humanities were so, well represented." + +He smiled evasively, and that day we pursued the subject no further. + +Among Saint-Avit's books I had noticed a voluminous notebook secured +by a strong lock. Several times I surprised him in the act of making +notations in it. When for any reason he was called out of the room he +placed his album carefully in a small cabinet of white wood, provided +by the munificence of the Administration. When he was not writing and +the office did not require his presence, he had the mehari which he +had brought with him saddled, and a few minutes later, from the +terrace of the fortifications, I could see the double silhouette +disappearing with great strides behind a hummock of red earth on the +horizon. + +Each time these trips lasted longer. From each he returned in a kind +of exaltation which made me watch him with daily increasing +disquietude during meal hours, the only time we passed quite alone +together. + +"Well," I said to myself one day when his remarks had been more +lacking in sequence than usual, "it's no fun being aboard a submarine +when the captain takes opium. What drug can this fellow be taking, +anyway?" + +Next day I looked hurriedly through my comrade's drawers. This +inspection, which I believed to be my duty, reassured me momentarily. +"All very good," I thought, "provided he does not carry with him his +capsules and his Pravaz syringe." + +I was still in that stage where I could suppose that André's +imagination needed artificial stimulants. + +Meticulous observation undeceived me. There was nothing suspicious in +this respect. Moreover, he rarely drank and almost never smoked. + +And nevertheless, there was no means of denying the increase of his +disquieting feverishness. He returned from his expeditions each time +with his eyes more brilliant. He was paler, more animated, more +irritable. + +One evening he left the post about six o'clock, at the end of the +greatest heat of the day. We waited for him all night. My anxiety was +all the stronger because quite recently caravans had brought tidings +of bands of robbers in the neighborhood of the post. + +At dawn he had not returned. He did not come before midday. His camel +collapsed under him, rather than knelt. + +He realized that he must excuse himself, but he waited till we were +alone at lunch. + +"I am so sorry to have caused you any anxiety. But the dunes were so +beautiful under the moon! I let myself be carried farther and +farther...." + +"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the +chief here. Only allow me to recall to you certain warnings concerning +the Chaamba brigands, and the misfortunes that might arise from a +Commandant of a post absenting himself too long." + +He smiled. + +"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply. + +He was in excellent, too excellent spirits. + +"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon +rose. And then, I recognized the country. It is just where, twenty +years ago next November, Flatters followed the way to his destiny in +an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made keener and +more intense." + +"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured. + +"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he +did ... even to dying of it." + +"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I +answered. "But they were alone when they exposed themselves to it. +Responsible only for their own lives, they were free. Flatters, on the +other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you cannot deny that +he allowed his whole party to be massacred." + +The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I +thought of Chatelain's story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where +they avoided like the plague any kind of conversation which might lead +their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit mission. + +Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant +eyes were far away. + +"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly. + +"Auxonne." + +He gave an unnatural laugh. + +"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand +inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's +wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every +Sunday,--the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon. +That explains your Judgment of Flatters. + +"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I +arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged +twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black +sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the _bagnards_ say in speaking of their +grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had +begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see +those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at +their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands +and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had +plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three +or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that +same evening for Berroughia. + +"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway +stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get +to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat. +When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage, +straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of +the outlying desert. + +"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road +embankment, overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume +of oleander, we changed horses. They had there a troop of convicts and +impressed laborers, under escort of riflemen and convoys to the +quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the jails of +Algiers and Douara,--without arms, of course; the others +civilians--such civilians! this year's recruits, the young bullies of +the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or. + +"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From +a distance I saw in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black +irregular mass of the convoy. Then I heard a weary dirge; the wretches +were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the couplet, +which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines: + +"'_Maintenant qu'elle est grande, + Elle fait le trottoir, + Avec ceux de la bande + A Richard-Lenoir_.' + +"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain: + +"'_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien + Nini Peau d'Chien; + Elle est si belle et si gentille + A la Bastille_' + +"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. +They were terrible. Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone +with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven faces. The burning dust +strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness +took possession of me. + +"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained +my self-control. + +"'Further, much further South,' I exclaimed to myself, 'to the places +untouched by this miserable bilgewater of civilization.' + +"When I am weary, when I have a moment of anguish and longing to turn +back on the road that I have chosen, I think of the prisoners of +Berroughia, and then I am glad to continue on my way. + +"But what a reward, when I am in one of those places where the poor +animals never think of fleeing because they have never seen man, where +the desert stretches out around me so widely that the old world could +crumble, and never a single ripple on the dune, a single cloud in the +white sky come to warn me. + +"'It is true,' I murmured. 'I, too, once, in the middle of the desert, +at Tidi-Kelt, I felt that way.'" + +Up to that time I had let him enjoy his exaltations without +interruption. I understood too late the error that I had made in +pronouncing that unfortunate sentence. + +His mocking nervous laughter began anew. + +"Ah! Indeed, at Tidi-Kelt? I beg you, old man, in your own interest, +if you don't want to make an ass of yourself, avoid that species of +reminiscence. Honestly, you make me think of Fromentin, or that poor +Maupassant, who talked of the desert because he had been to Djelfa, +two days' journey from the street of Bab-Azound and the Government +buildings, four days from the Avenue de l'Opera;--and who, because he +saw a poor devil of a camel dying near Bou-Saada, believed himself in +the heart of the desert, on the old route of the caravans.... +Tidi-Kelt, the desert!" + +"It seems to me, however, that In-Salah--" I said, a little vexed. + +"In-Salah? Tidi-Kelt! But, my poor friend, the last time that I passed +that way there were as many old newspapers and empty sardine boxes as +if it had been Sunday in the Wood of Vincennes." + +Such a determined, such an evident desire to annoy me made me forget +my reserve. + +"Evidently," I replied resentfully, "I have never been to--" + +I stopped myself, but it was already too late. + +He looked at me, squarely in the face. + +"To where?" he said with good humor. + +I did not answer. + +"To where?" he repeated. + +And, as I remained strangled in my muteness: + +"To Wadi Tarhit, do you mean?" + +It was on the east bank of Wadi Tarhit, a hundred and twenty +kilometers from Timissao, at 25.5 degrees north latitude, according to +the official report, that Captain Morhange was buried. + +"André," I cried stupidly, "I swear to you--" + +"What do you swear to me?" + +"That I never meant--" + +"To speak of Wadi Tarhit? Why? Why should you not speak to me of Wadi +Tarhit?" + +In answer to my supplicating silence, he merely shrugged his +shoulders. + +"Idiot," was all he said. + +And he left me before I could think of even one word to say. + +So much humility on my part had, however, not disarmed him. I had the +proof of it the next day, and the way he showed his humor was even +marked by an exhibition of wretchedly poor taste. + +I was just out of bed when he came into my room. + +"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. + +He had in his hand one of the official registers. In his nervous +crises he always began sorting them over, in the hope of finding some +pretext for making himself militarily insupportable. + +This time chance had favored him. + +He opened the register. I blushed violently at seeing the poor proof +of a photograph that I knew well. + +"What is that?" he repeated disdainfully. + +Too often I had surprised him in the act of regarding, none too +kindly, the portrait of Mlle. de C. which hung in my room not to be +convinced at that moment that he was trying to pick a quarrel with me. + +I controlled myself, however, and placed the poor little print in the +drawer. + +But my calmness did not pacify him. + +"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of +your gallantry with the official papers." + +He added, with a smile that spoke insult: + +"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut." + +"André," I said, and I was white, "I demand--" + +He stood up to the full height of his stature. + +"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to +speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should +think--" + +"André!" + +Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the +replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene. + +"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves +you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?" + +And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, +humming the shameful refrain of the previous night: + +"_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien, + Nini, Peau de Chien_." + +For three days neither of us spoke to the other. My exasperation was +too deep for words. Was I, then, to be held responsible for his +avatars! Was it my fault if, between two phrases, one seemed always +some allusion-- + +"The situation is intolerable," I said to myself. "It cannot last +longer." + +It was to cease very soon. + +One week after the scene of the photograph the courier arrived. I had +scarcely glanced at the index of the _Zeitschrift_, the German review +of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable +amazement. I had just read: _"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei +fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de +Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."_ + +At the same time I heard my comrade's voice. + +"Anything interesting in this number?" + +"No," I answered carelessly. + +"Let's see." + +I obeyed; what else was there to do? + +It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However, +his tone was altogether natural when he said: + +"You will let me borrow it, of course?" + +And he went out, casting me one defiant glance. + + * * * * * + +The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was +gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me. + +When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade +of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness +was already encroaching upon from the east. + +André broke the silence. + +"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is +not interesting." + +His expression was one of supreme amusement. + +"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?" + +"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching. + +"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?" + +I looked at him with an expression of supplication. + +"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more. + +Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia was still +yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping +sharply. + +"The _dib_ is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said +Saint-Avit. + +He continued pitilessly: + +"Then you aren't willing to say anything?" + +I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase: + +"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy--You don't feel +like yourself, you don't know any more--" + +"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy, +heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain +Morhange." + + + + +III + +THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION + + +"So I killed Captain Morhange," André de Saint-Avit said to me the +next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took +no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through. +"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the +desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that +confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it +may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the +present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again, +that I killed Captain Morhange. + +"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you +understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a +romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner +of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics +would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much +I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will +find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met +Morhange. + +"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my peace of +mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word, +apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black +ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge +of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my +life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my +companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere. + +"This being understood, here are the facts:" + +[NOTE: From this point on begins an extended narrative; +indeed it may be most of the remaining book. +I was changing the quoting, until I reached the end +of the chapter and found that it continued on from there.] + +It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that +I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me +the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult +times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat, +where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been +concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies. +Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and +at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The +Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its +occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was +Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of +Germany, and above all because of a certain _Declaration of the Rights +of Man and of the Citizen_, which prescribed that insurrection is the +most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut +your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own +discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts; +this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort +Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with +bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat. +Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the +necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way +would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that +were being woven there against us. + +The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able +chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his +confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in +the Tibesti. They had, I say _they_ through modesty, the idea of +ascertaining the traces left by these agitators on their favorite +places of concourse; Rhât, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and +In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin, +practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General +Rohlfs. + +I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to +Agadès, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff +officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I +was therefore selected to assume this new task. + +I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with +one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so +as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have +as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they +combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded +the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After +reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin, +instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhât, I would, +penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off +to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again +northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agadès. In +all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven +hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an +examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis +of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at +Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at +all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the +geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier +and the others are so disappointingly indefinite. + +Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which +is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's +(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through +the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a +machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry +provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken +pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells. + +Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with a hundred +regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and René +Callie, I go alone. + +I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me +to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure +until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his +expedition of exploration." + +I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this +expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make +the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea +of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the +desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a +superior. + +The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor. + +The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following +information: + +"Morhange (Jean-Marie-François), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain, +unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)" + +"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of +their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have +had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The +theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here." + +"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in +Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of +Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat. +And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army +Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament, +governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an +amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial +Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in +office, when it is not actually in spite of them." + +"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly; +"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along +the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much +time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?" + +"Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from +Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The +indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone." + +Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the +convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked. + +When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as +the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I +would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him. + +He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small +black moustache, and hair that was already white. + +"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said +immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man. +"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and +delaying your departure." + +"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly. + +"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your +knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I +wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction +and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me +with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable +institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to +re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth +century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla, +Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of +restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the +Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking. +From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I +must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have +ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on +Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental +Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to +ask for directions whether to turn right or left. This is the only +chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time +put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a +companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my +influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when +I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have +said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered +essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to +the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each +other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations, +all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a +friend as well." + +All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst +recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean +desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of +my company at a distance, without consulting me. + +"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering +words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?" + +He made a gesture of complete detachment. + +"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed +you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time." + +My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting +on leaving before the next week. + +"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?" + +He smiled delightfully. + +"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some +papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the +rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla." + +I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such +freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me. + +"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought +us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably +charming fellow." + +"Remarkably." + +"You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to +see that later on he doesn't get all the glory." + +"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively. + +I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment +I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence +persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, +everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife: + +"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it." + +I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening.... + +After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the +places where there are no more men who think and reason. + +Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming +over this new acquaintanceship. + +He presented him enthusiastically: + +"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man +after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, +but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea +before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to +give us." + +"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied +Morhange, with a quiet smile. + +The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter +rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the +newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have +I felt so sad. + +The time came to pass into the dining-room. + +"At my right, Captain," cried the Major, more and more beaming. "And I +hope you will keep on giving us these new lines on Paris. We are not +up with the times here, you know." + +"Yours to command, Major," said Morhange. + +"Be seated, gentlemen." + +The officers obeyed, with a joyous clatter of moving chairs. I had not +taken my eyes off Morhange, who was still standing. + +"Major, gentlemen, you will allow me," he said. + +And before sitting down at that table, where every moment he was the +life of the party, in a low voice, with his eyes closed, Captain +Morhange recited the Benedicite. + + + + +IV + +TOWARDS LATITUDE 25 + + +"You see," said Captain Morhange to me fifteen days later, "you are +much better informed about the ancient routes through the Sahara than +you have been willing to let me suppose, since you know of the +existence of the two Tadekkas. But the one of which you have just +spoken is the Tadekka of Ibn-Batoutah, located by this historian +seventy days from Touat, and placed by Schirmer, very plausibly, in +the unexplored territory of the Aouelimmiden. This is the Tadekka by +which the Sonrhaï caravans passed every year, travelling by Egypt. + +"My Tadekka is different, the capital of the veiled people, placed by +Ibn-Khaldoun twenty days south of Wargla, which he calls Tadmekka. It +is towards this Tadmekka that I am headed. I must establish Tadmekka +in the ruins of Es-Souk. The commercial trade route, which in the +ninth century bound the Tunisian Djerid to the bend the Niger makes at +Bourroum, passed by Es-Souk. It is to study the possibility of +reestablishing this ancient thoroughfare that the Ministries gave me +this mission, which has given me the pleasure of your companionship." + +"You are probably in for a disappointment," I said. "Everything +indicates that the commerce there is very slight." + +"Well, I shall see," he answered composedly. + +This was while we were following the unicolored banks of a salt lake. +The great saline stretch shone pale-blue, under the rising sun. The +legs of our five mehara cast on it their moving shadows of a darker +blue. For a moment the only inhabitant of these solitudes, a bird, a +kind of indeterminate heron, rose and hung in the air, as if +suspended from a thread, only to sink back to rest as soon as we had +passed. + +I led the way, selecting the route, Morhange followed. Enveloped in a +bernous, his head covered with the straight _chechia_ of the Spahis, a +great chaplet of alternate red and white beads, ending in a cross, +around his neck, he realized perfectly the ideal of Father Lavigerie's +White Fathers. + +After a two-days' halt at Temassinin we had just left the road +followed by Flatters, and taken an oblique course to the south. I have +the honor of having antedated Fourcau in demonstrating the importance +of Temassinin as a geometrical point for the passage of caravans, and +of selecting the place where Captain Pein has just now constructed a +fort. The junction for the roads that lead to Touat from Fezzan and +Tibesti, Temassinin is the future seat of a marvellous Intelligence +Department. What I had collected there in two days about the +disposition of our Senoussis enemies was of importance. I noticed that +Morhange let me proceed with my inquiries with complete indifference. + +These two days he had passed in conversation with the old Negro +guardian of the turbet, which preserves, under its plaster dome, the +remains of the venerated Sidi-Moussa. The confidences they exchanged, +I am sorry to say that I have forgotten. But from the Negro's amazed +admiration, I realized the ignorance in which I stood to the mysteries +of the desert, and how familiar they were to my companion. + +And if you want to get any idea of the extraordinary originality which +Morhange introduced into such surroundings, you who, after all, have a +certain familiarity with the tropics, listen to this. It was exactly +two hundred kilometers from here, in the vicinity of the Great Dune, +in that horrible stretch of six days without water. We had just enough +for two days before reaching the next well, and you know these wells; +as Flatters wrote to his wife, "you have to work for hours before you +can clean them out and succeed in watering beasts and men." By chance +we met a caravan there, which was going east towards Rhadamès, and had +come too far north. The camels' humps, shrunken and shaking, bespoke +the sufferings of the troop. Behind came a little gray ass, a pitiful +burrow, interfering at every step, and lightened of its pack because +the merchants knew that it was going to die. Instinctively, with its +last strength, it followed, knowing that when it could stagger no +longer, the end would come and the flutter of the bald vultures' +wings. I love animals, which I have solid reasons for preferring to +men. But never should I have thought of doing what Morhange did then. +I tell you that our water skins were almost dry, and that our own +camels, without which one is lost in the empty desert, had not been +watered for many hours. Morhange made his kneel, uncocked a skin, and +made the little ass drink. I certainly felt gratification at seeing +the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But +the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast +expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. +I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied +Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about +six o'clock. Between here and there I know that I shall not be +thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed +the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, +ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and +Bou-Djema's, are at his service." But I did not yet know Morhange very +well, and it is true that until the evening of the next day when we +reached El-Biodh, refusing our offers with smiling determination, he +drank nothing. + +Shades of St. Francis of Assisi! Umbrian hills, so pure under the +rising sun! It was in the light of a like sunrise, by the border of a +pale stream leaping in full cascades from a crescent-shaped niche of +the gray rocks of Egere, that Morhange stopped. The unlooked for +waters rolled upon the sand, and we saw, in the light which mirrored +them, little black fish. Fish in the middle of the Sahara! All three +of us were mute before this paradox of Nature. One of them had strayed +into a little channel of sand. He had to stay there, struggling in +vain, his little white belly exposed to the air.... Morhange picked +him up, looked at him for a moment, and put him back into the little +stream. Shades of St. Francis. Umbrian hills.... But I have sworn not +to break the thread of the story by these untimely digressions. + + * * * * * + +"You see," Captain Morhange said to me a week later, "that I was right +in advising you to go farther south before making for Shikh-Salah. +Something told me that this highland of Egere was not interesting from +your point of view. While here you have only to stoop to pick up +pebbles which will allow you to establish the volcanic origin of this +region much more certainly than Bou-Derba, des Cloizeaux, and Doctor +Marrés have done." + +This was while we were following the western pass of the Tidifest +Mountains, about the 25th degree of northern latitude. + +"I should indeed be ungrateful not to thank you," I said. + +I shall always remember that instant. We had left our camels and were +collecting fragments of the most characteristic rocks. Morhange +employed himself with a discernment which spoke worlds for his +knowledge of geology, a science he had often professed complete +ignorance of. + +Then I asked him the following question: + +"May I prove my gratitude by making you a confession?" + +He raised his head and looked at me. + +"Well then, I don't see the practical value of this trip you have +undertaken." + +He smiled. + +"Why not? To explore the old caravan route, to demonstrate that a +connection has existed from the most ancient times between the +Mediterranean world, and the country of the Blacks, that seems nothing +in your eyes? The hope of settling once for all the secular disputes +which have divided so many keen minds; d'Anville, Heeren, Berlioux, +Quatremere on the one hand,--on the other Gosselin, Walckenaer, +Tissit, Vivien, de saint-Martin; you think that that is devoid of +interest? A plague upon you for being hard to please." + +"I spoke of practical value," I said. "You won't deny that this +controversy is only the affair of cabinet geographers and office +explorers." + +Morhange kept on smiling. + +"Dear friend, don't wither me. Deign to recall that your mission was +confided to you by the Ministry of War, while I hold mine on behalf of +the Ministry of Public Instruction. A different origin justifies our +different aims. It certainly explains, I readily concede that to you, +why what I am in search of has no practical value." + +"You are also authorized by the Ministry of Commerce," I replied, +playing my next card. "By this chief you are instructed to study the +possibility of restoring the old trade route of the ninth century. But +on this point don't attempt to mislead me; with your knowledge of the +history and geography of the Sahara, your mind must have been made up +before you left Paris. The road from Djerid to the Niger is dead, +stone dead. You knew that no important traffic would pass by this +route before you undertook to study the possibility of restoring it." + +Morhange looked me full in the face. + +"And if that should be so," he said with the most charming attitude, +"if I had before leaving the conviction you say, what do you conclude +from that?" + +"I should prefer to have you tell me." + +"Simply, my dear boy, that I had less skill than you in finding the +pretext for my voyage, that I furnished less good reasons for the true +motives that brought me here." + +"A pretext? I don't see...." + +"Be sincere in your turn, if you please. I am sure that you have the +greatest desire to inform the Arabian Office about the practices of +the Senoussis. But admit that the information that you will obtain is +not the sole and innermost aim of your excursion. You are a geologist, +my friend. You have found a chance to gratify your taste in this trip. +No one would think of blaming you because you have known how to +reconcile what is useful to your country and agreeable to yourself. +But, for the love of God, don't deny it; I need no other proof than +your presence here on this side of the Tidifest, a very curious place +from a mineralogical point of view, but some hundred and fifty +kilometers south of your official route." + +It was not possible to have countered me with a better grace. I +parried by attacking. + +"Am I to conclude from all this that I do not know the real aims of +your trip, and that they have nothing to do with the official +motives?" + +I had gone a bit too far. I felt it from the seriousness with which +Morhange's reply was delivered. + +"No, my dear friend, you must not conclude just that. I should have no +taste for a lie which was based on fraud towards the estimable +constitutional bodies which have judged me worthy of their confidence +and their support. The ends that they have assigned to me I shall do +my best to attain. But I have no reason for hiding from you that there +is another, quite personal, which is far nearer to my heart. Let us +say, if you will, to use a terminology that is otherwise deplorable, +that this is the end while the others are the means." + +"Would there be any indiscretion?...." + +"None," replied my companion. "Shikh-Salah is only a few days distant. +He whose first steps you have guided with such solicitude in the +desert should have nothing hidden from you." + +We had halted in the valley of a little dry well where a few sickly +plants were growing. A spring near by was circled by a crown of gray +verdure. The camels had been unsaddled for the night, and were seeking +vainly, at every stride, to nibble the spiny tufts of _had_. The black +and polished sides of the Tidifest Mountains rose, almost vertically, +above our heads. Already the blue smoke of the fire on which Bou-Djema +was cooking dinner rose through the motionless air. + +Not a sound, not a breath. The smoke mounted straight, straight and +slowly up the pale steps of the firmament. + +"Have you ever heard of the _Atlas of Christianity_?" asked Morhange. + +"I think so. Isn't it a geographical work published by the +Benedictines under the direction of a certain Dom Granger?" + +"Your memory is correct," said Morhange. "Even so let me explain a +little more fully some of the things you have not had as much reason +as I to interest yourself in. The _Atlas of Christianity_ proposes to +establish the boundaries of that great tide of Christianity through +all the ages, and for all parts of the globe. An undertaking worthy of +the Benedictine learning, worthy of such a prodigy of erudition as +Dom Granger himself." + +"And it is these boundaries that you have come to determine here, no +doubt," I murmured. + +"Just so," replied my companion. + +He was silent, and I respected his silence, prepared by now to be +astonished at nothing. + +"It is not possible to give confidences by halves, without being +ridiculous," he continued after several minutes of meditation, +speaking gravely, in a voice which held no suggestion of that flashing +humor which had a month before enchanted the young officers at Wargla. +"I have begun on mine. I will tell you everything. Trust my +discretion, however, and do not insist upon certain events of my +private life. If, four years ago, at the close of these events, I +resolve to enter a monastery, it does not concern you to know my +reasons. I can marvel at it myself, that the passage in my life of a +being absolutely devoid of interest should have sufficed to change the +current of that life. I can marvel that a creature whose sole merit +was her beauty should have been permitted by the Creator to swing my +destiny to such an unforeseen direction. The monastery at whose doors +I knocked had the most valid reasons for doubting the stability of my +vocation. What the world loses in such fashion it often calls back as +readily. In short, I cannot blame the Father Abbot for having +forbidden me to apply for my army discharge. By his instructions, I +asked for, and obtained, permission to be placed on the inactive list +for three years. At the end of those three years of consecration it +would be seen whether the world was definitely dead to your servant. + +"The first day of my arrival at the cloister I was assigned to Dom +Granger, and placed by him at work on the _Atlas of Christianity_. A +brief examination decided him as to what kind of service I was best +fitted to render. This is how I came to enter the studio devoted to +the cartography of Northern Africa. I did not know one word of Arabic, +but it happened that in garrison at Lyon I had taken at the _Faculté +des Lettres,_ a course with Berlioux,--a very erudite geographer no +doubt, but obsessed by one idea, the influence the Greek and Roman +civilizations had exercised on Africa. This detail of my life was +enough for Dom Granger. He provided me straightway with Berber +vocabularies by Venture, by Delaporte, by Brosselard; with the +_Grammatical Sketch of the Temahaq_ by Stanley Fleeman, and the _Essai +de Grammaire de la langue Temachek_ by Major Hanoteau. At the end of +three months I was able to decipher any inscriptions in Tifinar. You +know that Tifinar is the national writing of the Tuareg, the +expression of this Temachek language which seems to us the most +curious protest of the Targui race against its Mohammedan enemies. + +"Dom Granger, in fact, believed that the Tuareg are Christians, dating +from a period which it was necessary to ascertain, but which coincided +no doubt with the splendor of the church of Hippon. Even better than +I, you know that the cross is with them the symbol of fate in +decoration. Duveyrier has claimed that it figures in their alphabet, +on their arms, among the designs of their clothes. The only tattooing +that they wear on the forehead, on the back of the hand, is a cross +with four equal branches; the pummels of their saddles, the handles of +their sabres, of their poignards, are cross-shaped. And is it +necessary to remind you that, although Islam forbids bells as a sign +of Christianity, the harness of Tuareg camels are trimmed with bells? + +"Neither Dom Granger nor I attach an exaggerated importance to such +proofs, which resemble too much those which make such a display in the +_Genius of Christianity._ But it is indeed impossible to refuse all +credence to certain theological arguments. Amanai, the God of the +Tuareg, unquestionably the Adonai of the Bible, is unique. They have a +hell, 'Timsi-tan-elekhaft,' the last fire, where reigns Iblis, our +Lucifer. Their Paradise, where they are rewarded for good deeds, is +inhabited by 'andjelousen,' our angels. And do not urge the +resemblance of this theology to the Koran, for I will meet you with +historic arguments and remind you that the Tuareg have struggled all +through the ages at the cost of partial extermination, to maintain +their faith against the encroachments of Mohammedan fanaticism. + +"Many times I have studied with Dom Granger that formidable epoch when +the aborigines opposed the conquering Arabs. With him I have seen how +the army of Sidi-Okba, one of the companions of the Prophet, invaded +this desert to reduce the Tuareg tribes and impose on them Mussulman +rules. These tribes were then rich and prosperous. They were the +Ihbggaren, the Imededren, the Ouadelen, the Kel-Gueress, the Kel-Air. +But internal quarrels sapped their strength. Still, it was not until +after a long and cruel war that the Arabians succeeded in getting +possession of the capital of the Berbers, which had proved such a +redoubtable stronghold. They destroyed it after they had massacred the +inhabitants. On the ruins Okba constructed a new city. This city is +Es-Souk. The one that Sidi-Okba destroyed was the Berber Tadmekka. +What Dom Granger asked of me was precisely that I should try to exhume +from the ruins of the Mussulman Es-Souk the ruins of Tadmekka, which +was Berber, and perhaps Christian." + +"I understand," I murmured. + +"So far, so good," said Morhange. "But what you must grasp now is the +practical sense of these religious men, my masters. You remember that, +even after three years of monastic life, they preserved their doubts +as to the stability of my vocation. They found at the same time means +of testing it once for all, and of adapting official facilities to +their particular purposes. One morning I was called before the Father +Abbot, and this is what he said to me, in the presence of Dom Granger, +who expressed silent approval. + +"'Your term of inactive service expires in fifteen days. You will +return to Paris, and apply at the Ministry to be reinstated. With what +you have learned here, and the relationships we have been able to +maintain at Headquarters, you will have no difficulty in being +attached to the Geographical Staff of the army. When you reach the rue +de Grenelle you will receive our instructions.' + +"I was astonished at their confidence in my knowledge. When I was +reestablished as Captain again in the Geographical Service I +understood. At the monastery, the daily association with Dom Granger +and his pupils had kept me constantly convinced of the inferiority of +my knowledge. When I came in contact with my military brethren I +realized the superiority of the instruction I had received. I did not +have to concern myself with the details of my mission. The Ministries +invited me to undertake it. My initiative asserted itself on only one +occasion. When I learned that you were going to leave Wargla on the +present expedition, having reason to distrust my practical +qualifications as an explorer, I did my best to retard your departure, +so that I might join you. I hope that you have forgiven me by now." + + * * * * * + +The light in the west was fading, where the sun had already sunk into +a matchless luxury of violet draperies. We were alone in this +immensity, at the feet of the rigid black rocks. Nothing but +ourselves. Nothing, nothing but ourselves. + +I held out my hand to Morhange, and he pressed it. Then he said: + +"If they still seem infinitely long to me, the several thousand +kilometers which separate me from the instant when, my task +accomplished, I shall at last find oblivion in the cloister for the +things for which I was not made, let me tell you this;--the several +hundred kilometers which still separate us from Shikh-Salah seem to me +infinitely short to traverse in your company." + +On the pale water of the little pool, motionless and fixed like a +silver nail, a star had just been born. + +"Shikh-Salah," I murmured, my heart full of an indefinable sadness. +"Patience, we are not there yet." + +In truth, we never were to be there. + + + + +V + +THE INSCRIPTION + + +With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock +from the black flank of the mountain. + +"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me. + +"A basaltic peridot," I said. + +"It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it." + +"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit +that I am otherwise preoccupied." + +"How?" + +"Look this way a bit," I said, showing towards the west, on the +horizon, a black spot across the white plain. + +It was six o'clock in the morning. The sun had risen. But it could not +be found in the surprisingly polished air. And not a breath of air, +not a breath. Suddenly one of the camels called. An enormous antelope +had just come in sight, and had stopped in its flight, terrified, +racing the wall of rock. It stayed there at a little distance from us, +dazed, trembling on its slender legs. + +Bou-Djema had rejoined us. + +"When the legs of the mohor tremble it is because the firmament is +shaken," he muttered. + +"A storm?" + +"Yes, a storm." + +"And you find that alarming?" + +I did not answer immediately. I was exchanging several brief words +with Bou-Djema, who was occupied in soothing the camels which were +giving signs of being restive. + +Morhange repeated his question. I shrugged my shoulders. + +"Alarming? I don't know. I have never seen a storm on the Hoggar. But +I distrust it. And the signs are that this is going to be a big one. +See there already." + +A slight dust had risen before the cliff. In the still air a few +grains of sand had begun to whirl round and round, with a speed which +increased to dizziness, giving us in advance the spectacle in +miniature of what would soon be breaking upon us. + +With harsh cries a flock of wild geese appeared, flying low. They came +out of the west. + +"They are fleeing towards the Sebkha d'Amanghor," said Bou-Djema. + +There could be no greater mistake, I thought. + +Morhange looked at me curiously. + +"What must we do?" he asked. + +"Mount our camels immediately, before they are completely +demoralized, and hurry to find shelter in some high places. Take +account of our situation. It is easy to follow the bed of a stream. +But within a quarter of an hour perhaps the storm will have burst. +Within a half hour a perfect torrent will be rushing here. On this +soil, which is almost impermeable, rain will roll like a pail of water +thrown on a bituminous pavement. No depth, all height. Look at this." + +And I showed him, a dozen meters high, long hollow gouges, marks of +former erosions on the rocky wall. + +"In an hour the waters will reach that height. Those are the marks of +the last inundation. Let us get started. There is not an instant to +lose." + +"All right," Morhange replied tranquilly. + +We had the greatest difficulty to make the camels kneel. When we had +thrown ourselves into the saddle they started off at a pace which +their terror rendered more and more disorderly. + +Of a sudden the wind began, a formidable wind, and, almost at the same +time the light was eclipsed in the ravine. Above our heads the sky had +become, in the flash of an eye, darker than the walls of the canyon +which we were descending at a breathless pace. + +"A path, a stairway in the wall," I screamed against the wind to my +companions. "If we don't find one in a minute we are lost." + +They did not hear me, but, turning in my saddle, I saw that they had +lost no distance, Morhange following me, and Bou-Djema in the rear +driving the two baggage camels masterfully before him. + +A blinding streak of lightning rent the obscurity. A peal of thunder, +re-echoed to infinity by the rocky wall, rang out, and immediately +great tepid drops began to fall. In an instant, our burnouses, which +had been blown out behind by the speed with which we were traveling, +were stuck tight to our streaming bodies. + +"Saved!" I exclaimed suddenly. + +Abruptly on our right a crevice opened in the midst of the wall. It +was the almost perpendicular bed of a stream, an affluent of the one +we had had the unfortunate idea of following that morning. Already a +veritable torrent was gushing over it with a fine uproar. + +I have never better appreciated the incomparable sure-footedness of +camels in the most precipitate places. Bracing themselves, stretching +out their great legs, balancing themselves among the rocks that were +beginning to be swept loose, our camels accomplished at that moment +what the mules of the Pyrannees might have failed in. + +After several moments of superhuman effort we found ourselves at last +out of danger, on a kind of basaltic terrace, elevated some fifty +meters above the channel of the stream we had just left. Luck was with +us; a little grotto opened out behind. Bou-Djema succeeded in +sheltering the camels there. From its threshold we had leisure to +contemplate in silence the prodigious spectacle spread out before us. + +You have, I believe, been at the Camp of Chalons for artillery drills. +You have seen when the shell bursts how the chalky soil of the Marne +effervesces like the inkwells at school, when we used to throw a piece +of calcium carbonate into them. Well, it was almost like that, but in +the midst of the desert, in the midst of obscurity. The white waters +rushed into the depths of the black hole, and rose and rose towards +the pedestal on which we stood. And there was the uninterrupted noise +of thunder, and still louder, the sound of whole walls of rock, +undermined by the flood, collapsing in a heap and dissolving in a few +seconds of time in the midst of the rising water. + +All the time that this deluge lasted, one hour, perhaps two, Morhange +and I stayed bending over this fantastic foaming vat; anxious to see, +to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a +kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we +had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the +water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful +it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare. + +Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each +other. + +Morhange held out his hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. + +And he added with a smile: + +"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been +pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of +decision, from this very paradoxical end." + +Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to +his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never +have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of +weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly. +No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did +happen. + + * * * * * + +Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's +camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the +torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its +unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a +sky that had renewed its blueness. I could feel the clothes that had a +moment before been drenching, drying upon me incredibly fast. + +A hand was placed on my shoulder. Morhange was again beside me. + +"Come here," he said. + +Somewhat surprised, I followed him. We went into the grotto. + +The opening, which was big enough to admit the camels, made it fairly +light. Morhange led me up to the smooth face of rock opposite. "Look," +he said, with unconcealed joy. + +"What of it?" + +"Don't you see?" + +"I see that there are several Tuareg inscriptions," I answered, with +some disappointment. "But I thought I had told you that I read Tifinar +writing very badly. Are these writings more interesting than the +others we have come upon before?" + +"Look at this one," said Morhange. There was such an accent of triumph +in his tone that this time I concentrated my attention. + +I looked again. + +The characters of the inscription were arranged in the form of a +cross. It plays such an important part in this adventure that I cannot +forego retracing it for you. + + | + | + + +o o o o -- W + -- - + | + | + | + +[Transcriber's Note: This is but a crude ASCII representation of the +inscription. The center 'W' is rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise in +the book.] + +It was designed with great regularity, and the characters were cut +deep into the rock. Although I knew so little of rock inscriptions at +that time I had no difficulty in recognizing the antiquity of this +one. + +Morhange became more and more radiant as he regarded it. + +I looked at him questioningly. + +"Well, what have you to say now?" he asked. + +"What do you want me to say? I tell you that I can barely read +Tifinar." + +"Shall I help you?" he suggested. + +This course in Berber writing, after the emotions through which we had +just passed, seemed to me a little inopportune. But Morhange was so +visibly delighted that I could not dash his joy. + +"Very well then," began my companion, as much at his, ease as if he had +been before a blackboard, "what will strike you first about this +inscription is its repetition in the form of a cross. That is to say +that it contains the same word twice, top to bottom, and right to left. +The word which it composes has seven letters so the fourth letter, W +[Transcriber's Note: Rotated 90 deg. counter-clockwise], comes naturally +in the middle. This arrangement which is unique in Tifinar writing, is +already remarkable enough. But there is better still. Now we will read +it." + +Getting it wrong three times out of seven I finally succeeded, with +Morhange's help, in spelling the word. + +"Have you got it?" asked Morhange when I had finished my task. + +"Less than ever," I answered, a little put out; +"a,n,t,i,n,h,a,--Antinha, I don't know that word, or anything like it, +in all the Saharan dialects I am familiar with." + +Morhange rubbed his hands together. His satisfaction was without +bounds. + +"You have said it. That is why the discovery is unique." + +"Why?" + +"There is really nothing, either in Berber or in Arabian, analogous to +this word." + +"Then?" + +"Then, my dear friend, we are in the presence of a foreign word, +translated into Tifinar." + +"And this word belongs, according to your theory, to what language?" + +"You must realize that the letter _e_ does not exist in the Tifinar +alphabet. It has here been replaced by the phonetic sign which is +nearest to it,--h. Restore _e_ to the place which belongs to it in the +word, and you have--" + +"Antinea." + +"'Antinea,' precisely. We find ourselves before a Greek vocable +reproduced in Tifinar. And I think that now you will agree with me +that my find has a certain interest." + +That day we had no more conferences upon texts. A loud cry, anguished, +terrifying, rang out. + +We rushed out to find a strange spectacle awaiting us. + +Although the sky had cleared again, the torrent of yellow water was +still foaming and no one could predict when it would fall. In +mid-stream, struggling desperately in the current, was an +extraordinary mass, gray and soft and swaying. + +But what at the first glance overwhelmed us with astonishment was to +see Bou-Djema, usually so calm, at this moment apparently beside +himself with frenzy, bounding through the gullies and over the rocks +of the ledge, in full pursuit of the shipwreck. + +Of a sudden I seized Morhange by the arm. The grayish thing was alive. +A pitiful long neck emerged from it with the heartrending cry of a +beast in despair. + +"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the +stream is carrying it away!" + +"You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. +The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish +we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave +Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the +intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream." + +"Who gave that cry, then?" + +"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is +descending at such a rate." + +And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the +recently washed gullies of the rocky bank. + +At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his +destiny. + +I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or +three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing +brook where the water was falling a trifle. + +"See there?" said Morhange. + +A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek. + +When we had come up even with it we saw that it was a man in the long +dark blue robes of the Tuareg. + +"Give me your hand," said Morhange, "and brace yourself against a +rock, hard." + +He was very, very strong. In an instant, as if it were child's play, +he had brought the body ashore. + +"He is still alive," he pronounced with satisfaction. "Now it is a +question of getting him to the grotto. This is no place to resuscitate +a drowned man." + +He raised the body in his powerful arms. + +"It is astonishing how little he weighs for a man of his height." + +By the time we had retraced the way to the grotto the man's cotton +clothes were almost dry. But the dye had run plentifully, and it was +an indigo man that Morhange was trying to recall to life. + +When I had made him swallow a quart of rum he opened his eyes, looked +at the two of us with surprise, then, closing them again, murmured +almost unintelligibly a phrase, the sense of which we did not get +until some days later: + +"Can it be that I have reached the end of my mission?" + +"What mission is he talking about?" I said. + +"Let him recover himself completely," responded Morhange. "You had +better open some preserved food. With fellows of this build you don't +have to observe the precautions prescribed for drowned Europeans." + +It was indeed a species of giant, whose life we had just saved. His +face, although very thin, was regular, almost beautiful. He had a +clear skin and little beard. His hair, already white, showed him to be +a man of sixty years. + +When I placed a tin of corned-beef before him a light of voracious joy +came into his eyes. The tin contained an allowance for four persons. +It was empty in a flash. + +"Behold," said Morhange, "a robust appetite. Now we can put our +questions without scruple." + +Already the Targa had placed over his forehead and face the blue veil +prescribed by the ritual. He must have been completely famished not to +have performed this indispensable formality sooner. There was nothing +visible now but the eyes, watching us with a light that grew steadily +more sombre. + +"French officers," he murmured at last. + +And he took Morhange's hand, and having placed it against his breast, +carried it to his lips. + +Suddenly an expression of anxiety passed over his face. + +"And my mehari?" he asked. + +I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his +beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the +current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. +His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he +remembered nothing more. + +"What is your name?" I asked. + +"Eg-Anteouen." + +"What tribe do you belong to?" + +"The tribe of Kel-Tahat." + +"The Kel-Tahats are the serfs of the tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, the great +nobles of Hoggar?" + +"Yes," he answered, casting a side glance in my direction. It seemed +that such precise questions on the affairs of Ahygar were not to his +liking. + +"The Kel-Tahats, if I am not mistaken, are established on the +southwest flank of Atakor.[5] What were you doing, so far from your +home territory when we saved your life?" + +[Footnote 5: Another name, in the Temahaq language, for Ahaggar. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +"I was going, by way of Tit, to In-Salah," he said. + +"What were you going to do at In-Salah?" + +He was about to reply. But suddenly we saw him tremble. His eyes were +fixed on a point of the cavern. We looked to see what it was. He had +just seen the rock inscription which had so delighted Morhange an hour +before. + +"Do you know that?" Morhange asked him with keen curiosity. + +The Targa did not speak a word but his eyes had a strange light. + +"Do you know that?" insisted Morhange. + +And he added: + +"Antinea?" + +"Antinea," repeated the man. + +And he was silent. + +"Why don't you answer the Captain?" I called out, with a strange +feeling of rage sweeping over me. + +The Targui looked at me. I thought that he was going to speak. But his +eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features +stiffening. + +Morhange and I turned around. + +On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by +an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us. + + + + +VI + +THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE + + +As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both +the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately +repressed. It was nothing more than a fleeting impression. +Nevertheless, it was enough to make me resolve that as soon as I was +alone with our guide, I would question him closely concerning our new +companion. + +The beginning of the day had been wearisome enough. We decided, +therefore, to spend the rest of it there, and even to pass the night +in the cave, waiting till the flood had completely subsided. + +In the morning, when I was marking our day's march upon the map, +Morhange came toward me. I noticed that his manner was somewhat +restrained. + +"In three days, we shall be at Shikh-Salah," I said to him. "Perhaps +by the evening of the second day, badly as the camels go." + +"Perhaps we shall separate before then," he muttered. + +"How so?" + +"You see, I have changed my itinerary a little. I have given up the +idea of going straight to Timissao. First I should like to make a +little excursion into the interior of the Ahaggar range." + +I frowned: + +"What is this new idea?" + +As I spoke I looked about for Eg-Anteouen, whom I had seen in +conversation with Morhange the previous evening and several minutes +before. He was quietly mending one of his sandals with a waxed thread +supplied by Bou-Djema. He did not raise his head. + +"It is simply," explained Morhange, less and less at his ease, "that +this man tells me there are similar inscriptions in several caverns in +western Ahaggar. These caves are near the road that he has to take +returning home. He must pass by Tit. Now, from Tit, by way of Silet, +is hardly two hundred kilometers. It is a quasi-classic route[6] as +short again as the one that I shall have to take alone, after I leave +you, from Shikh-Salah to Timissao. That is in part, you see, the +reason which has made me decide to...." + +[Footnote 6: The route and the stages from Tit to Timissao were +actually plotted out, as early as 1888, by Captain Bissuel. _Les +Tuarge de l'Ouest,_ itineraries 1 and 10. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"In part? In very small part," I replied. "But is your mind absolutely +made up?" + +"It is," he answered me. + +"When do you expect to leave me?" + +"To-day. The road which Eg-Anteouen proposes to take into Ahaggar +crosses this one about four leagues from here. I have a favor to ask +of you in this connection." + +"Please tell me." + +"It is to let me take one of the two baggage camels, since my Targa +has lost his." + +"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does +your own mehari," I answered coldly. + +We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained +an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or +less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored +portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the +tan area of supposed mountains. + +I finally said: + +"You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, +you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?" + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +"Why do you ask that?" + +"Because, if you promise me that,--provided, of course, that my +company is not unwelcome to you--I will go with you. Either way, I +shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for +Shikh-Salah from the south, instead of from the west--that is the only +difference." + +Morhange looked at me with emotion. + +"Why do you do this?" he murmured. + +"My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed +Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which +becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave +you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the +storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to +have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may +be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well +pleased not to let you run sure risks alone." + +"I have a guide," he said with his adorable naiveté. + +Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old +slipper. + +I took a step toward him. + +"You heard what I said to the Captain?" + +"Yes," the Targa answered calmly. + +"I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must +bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?" + +"I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the +Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march +southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But +farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are +good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, +come to water their camels." + +"And you know the road well?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile. + +"I have taken it twenty times," he said. + +"In that case, let's get started." + +We rode for two hours. I did not exchange a word with Morhange. I had +a clear intuition of the folly we were committing in risking ourselves +so unconcernedly in that least known and most dangerous part of the +Sahara. Every blow which had been struck in the last twenty years to +undermine the French advance had come from this redoubtable Ahaggar. +But what of it? It was of my own will that I had joined in this mad +scheme. No need of going over it again. What was the use of spoiling +my action by a continual exhibition of disapproval? And, furthermore, +I may as well admit that I rather liked the turn that our trip was +beginning to take. I had, at that instant, the sensation of journeying +toward something incredible, toward some tremendous adventure. You do +not live with impunity for months and years as the guest of the +desert. Sooner or later, it has its way with you, annihilates the good +officer, the timid executive, overthrows his solicitude for his +responsibilities. What is there behind those mysterious rocks, those +dim solitudes, which have held at bay the most illustrious pursuers of +mystery? You follow, I tell you, you follow. + + * * * * * + +"Are you sure at least that this inscription is interesting enough to +justify us in our undertaking?" I asked Morhange. + +My companion started with pleasure. Ever since we began our journey I +had realized his fear that I was coming along half-heartedly. As soon +as I offered him a chance to convince me, his scruples vanished, and +his triumph seemed assured to him. + +"Never," he answered, in a voice that he tried to control, but through +which the enthusiasm rang out, "never has a Greek inscription been +found so far south. The farthest points where they have been reported +are in the south of Algeria and Cyrene. But in Ahaggar! Think of it! +It is true that this one is translated into Tifinar. But this +peculiarity does not diminish the interest of the coincidence: it +increases it." + +"What do you take to be the meaning of this word?" + +"_Antinea_ can only be a proper name," said Morhange. "To whom does it +refer? I admit I don't know, and if at this very moment I am marching +toward the south, dragging you along with me, it is because I count on +learning more about it. Its etymology? It hasn't one definitely, but +there are thirty possibilities. Bear in mind that the Tifinar alphabet +is far from tallying with the Greek alphabet, which increases the +number of hypotheses. Shall I suggest several?" + +"I was just about to ask you to." + +"To begin with, there is [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], _the woman +who is placed opposite a vessel_, an explanation which would have been +pleasing to Gaffarel and to my venerated master Berlioux. That would +apply well enough to the figure-heads of ships. There is a technical +term that I cannot recall at this moment, not if you beat me a hundred +times over.[7] + +[Footnote 7: It is perhaps worth noting here that _Figures de Proues_ +is the exact title of a very remarkable collection of poems by Mme. +Delarus-Mardrus. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"Then there is [Greek: agtinêa], that you must relate to [Greek: agti] +and [Greek: naos], _she who holds herself before the_ [Greek: naos], +the [Greek: naos] of the temple, _she who is opposite the sanctuary,_ +therefore priestess. An interpretation which would enchant Girard and +Renan. + +"Next we have [Greek: agtine], from [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], +new, which can mean two things: either _she who is the contrary of +young_, which is to say old; or _she who is the enemy of novelty_ or +_the enemy of youth_. + +"There is still another sense of [Greek: gati], _in exchange for,_ +which is capable of complicating all the others I have mentioned; +likewise there are four meanings for the verb [Greek: neô], which +means in turn _to go, to flow, to thread_ or _weave, to heap_. There +is more still.... And notice, please, that I have not at my +disposition on the otherwise commodious hump of this mehari, either +the great dictionary of Estienne or the lexicons of Passow, of Pape, +or of Liddel-Scott. This is only to show you, my dear friend, that +epigraphy is but a relative science, always dependent on the discovery +of a new text which contradicts the previous findings, when it is not +merely at the mercy of the humors of the epigraphists and their pet +conceptions of the universe. + +"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my +astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal, +you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite +considerable." + +Morhange smiled wanly. + +"I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back +to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are +beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." + +Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well +fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. + +Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema +repair the damage. + +When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. + +"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will +have to climb the mountain." + +The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought +it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed +Eg-Anteouen would have told him. + +"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not +mountainous," said the Chaamba. + +"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going +south, by Ahaggar." + +"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...." + +"But what?" + +"I do not know the road." + +"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us." + +"Eg-Anteouen!" + +I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes +were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright. + +Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with +Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be +conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were +not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words. + +Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale. + +"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice. + +"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered. + +His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper: + +"Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to +pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell +you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead. +Join the Captain." + +"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as +to make him overtake Morhange. + + * * * * * + +It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way, +came to a stop. + +"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel. + +It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of +granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced, +from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high +and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk +abreast. + +"Here it is," repeated the Targa. + +To the west, straight behind us, the track that we were leaving +unrolled like a pale ribbon. The white plain, the road to Shikh-Salah, +the established halts, the well-known wells.... And, on the other +side, this black wall against the mauve sky, this dark passage. + +I looked at Morhange. + +"We had better stop here," he said simply. "Eg-Anteouen advises us to +take as much water here as we can carry." + +With one accord we decided to spend the night there, before +undertaking the mountain. + +There was a spring, in a dark basin, from which fell a little cascade; +there were a few shrubs, a few plants. + +Already the camels were browsing at the length of their tethers. + +Bou-Djema arranged our camp dinner service of tin cups and plates on a +great flat stone. An opened tin of meat lay beside a plate of lettuce +which he had just gathered from the moist earth around the spring. I +could tell from the distracted manner in which he placed these objects +upon the rock how deep was his anxiety. + +As he was bending toward me to hand me a plate, he pointed to the +gloomy black corridor which we were about to enter. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf!"_ he murmured. + +"What did he say?" asked Morhange, who had seen the gesture. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf. This is the country of fear._ That is what the Arabs +call Ahaggar." + +Bou-Djema went a little distance off and sat down, leaving us to our +dinner. Squatting on his heels, he began to eat a few lettuce leaves +that he had kept for his own meal. + +Eg-Anteouen was still motionless. + +Suddenly the Targa rose. The sun in the west was no larger than a red +brand. We saw Eg-Anteouen approach the fountain, spread his blue +burnous on the ground and kneel upon it. + +"I did not suppose that the Tuareg were so observant of Mussulman +tradition," said Morhange. + +"Nor I," I replied thoughtfully. + +But I had something to do at that moment besides making such +speculations. + +"Bou-Djema," I called. + +At the same time, I looked at Eg-Anteouen. Absorbed in his prayer, +bowed toward the west, apparently he was paying no attention to me. As +he prostrated himself, I called again. + +"Bou-Djema, come with me to my mehari; I want to get something out of +the saddle bags." + +Still kneeling, Eg-Anteouen was mumbling his prayer slowly, +composedly. + +But Bou-Djema had not budged. + +His only response was a deep moan. + +Morhange and I leaped to our feet and ran to the guide. Eg-Anteouen +reached him as soon as we did. + +With his eyes closed and his limbs already cold, the Chaamba breathed +a death rattle in Morhange's arms. I had seized one of his hands. +Eg-Anteouen took the other. Each, in his own way, was trying to +divine, to understand.... + +Suddenly Eg-Anteouen leapt to his feet. He had just seen the poor +embossed bowl which the Arab had held an instant before between his +knees, and which now lay overturned upon the ground. + +He picked it up, looked quickly at one after another of the leaves of +lettuce remaining in it, and then gave a hoarse exclamation. + +"So," said Morhange, "it's his turn now; he is going to go mad." + +Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the +rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, +holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched. + +Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and +held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ was all he said. + +I shuddered, and so did Morhange. It was the _afahlehla,_ the +_falestez_, of the Arabs of the Sahara, the terrible plant which had +killed a part of the Flatters mission more quickly and surely than +Tuareg arms. + +Eg-Anteouen stood up. His tall silhouette was outlined blackly against +the sky which suddenly had turned pale lilac. He was watching us. + +We bent again over the unfortunate guide. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ the Targa repeated, and shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Bou-Djema died in the middle of the night without having regained +consciousness. + + + + +VII + +THE COUNTRY OF FEAR + + +"It is curious," said Morhange, "to see how our expedition, uneventful +since we left Ouargla, is now becoming exciting." + +He said this after kneeling for a moment in prayer before the +painfully dug grave in which we had lain the guide. + +I do not believe in God. But if anything can influence whatever powers +there may be, whether of good or of evil, of light or of darkness, it +is the prayer of such a man. + +For two days we picked our way through a gigantic chaos of black rock +in what might have been the country of the moon, so barren was it. No +sound but that of stones rolling under the feet of the camels and +striking like gunshots at the foot of the precipices. + +A strange march indeed. For the first few hours, I tried to pick out, +by compass, the route we were following. But my calculations were soon +upset; doubtless a mistake due to the swaying motion of the camel. I +put the compass back in one of my saddle-bags. From that time on, +Eg-Anteouen was our master. We could only trust ourselves to him. + +He went first; Morhange followed him, and I brought up the rear. We +passed at every step most curious specimens of volcanic rock. But I +did not examine them. I was no longer interested in such things. +Another kind of curiosity had taken possession of me. I had come to +share Morhange's madness. If my companion had said to me: "We are +doing a very rash thing. Let us go back to the known trails," I should +have replied, "You are free to do as you please. But I am going on." + +Toward evening of the second day, we found ourselves at the foot of a +black mountain whose jagged ramparts towered in profile seven thousand +feet above our heads. It was an enormous shadowy fortress, like the +outline of a feudal stronghold silhouetted with incredible sharpness +against the orange sky. + +There was a well, with several trees, the first we had seen since +cutting into Ahaggar. + +A group of men were standing about it. Their camels, tethered close +by, were cropping a mouthful here and there. + +At seeing us, the men drew together, alert, on the defensive. + +Eg-Anteouen turned to us and said: + +"Eggali Tuareg." + +We went toward them. + +They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever +have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well, +leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked +at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any +rate, with respect. + +I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and was astonished +at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even +of my glance. + +When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for +which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not +prepared me. + +"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And +yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to +which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe." + +A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen. + +"It is true," he said. + +"Well then?" + +"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the +Mountain of the Evil Spirits." + +With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain. + +"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain +of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very +mention of its name." + +"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?" +queried Morhange. + +"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I +told you about." + +"You did not mention that detail to us." + +"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the _ilhinen,_ spirits with +horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die +and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not +afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg." + +"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the +_ilhinen_?" + +Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a +chain of white seeds. + +"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable +Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You +have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!" + +As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long +reed pipe and began to smoke gravely. + +"All this is beginning to seem very strange," said Morhange, coming +over to me. + +"You can say that without exaggeration," I replied. "You remember as +well as I the passage in which Barth tells of his expedition to the +Idinen, the Mountain of the Evil Spirits of the Azdjer Tuareg. The +region had so evil a reputation that no Targa would go with him. But +he got back." + +"Yes, he got back," replied my comrade, "but only after he had been +lost. Without water or food, he came so near dying of hunger and +thirst that he had to open a vein and drink his own blood. The +prospect is not particularly attractive." + +I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was not my fault that we were +there. + +Morhange understood my gesture and thought it necessary to make +excuses. + +"I should be curious," he went on with rather forced gaiety, "to meet +these spirits and substantiate the facts of Pomponius Mela who knew +them and locates them, in fact, in the mountain of the Tuareg. He +calls them _Egipans, Blemyens, Gamphasantes, Satyrs.... 'The +Gamphasantes_, he says, 'are naked. The _Blemyens_ have no head: their +faces are placed on their chests; the _Satyrs_ have nothing like men +except faces. The _Egipans_ are made as is commonly described.' ... +_Satyrs, Egipans_ ... isn't it very strange to find Greek names given +to the barbarian spirits of this region? Believe me, we are on a +curious trail; I am sure that Antinea will be our key to remarkable +discoveries." + +"Listen," I said, laying a finger on my lips. + +Strange sounds rose from about us as the evening advanced with great +strides. A kind of crackling, followed by long rending shrieks, echoed +and reechoed to infinity in the neighboring ravines. It seemed to me +that the whole black mountain suddenly had begun to moan. + +We looked at Eg-Anteouen. He was smoking on, without twitching a +muscle. + +"The _ilhinen_ are waking up," he said simply. + +Morhange listened without saying a word. Doubtless he understood as I +did: the overheated rocks, the crackling of the stone, a whole series +of physical phenomena, the example of the singing statue of Memnon.... +But, for all that, this unexpected concert reacted no less painfully +on our overstrained nerves. + +The last words of poor Bou-Djema came to my mind. + +"The country of fear," I murmured in a low voice. + +And Morhange repeated: + +"The country of fear." + +The strange concert ceased as the first stars appeared in the sky. +With deep emotion we watched the tiny bluish flames appear, one after +another. At that portentous moment they seemed to span the distance +between us, isolated, condemned, lost, and our brothers of higher +latitudes, who at that hour were rushing about their poor pleasures +with delirious frenzy in cities where the whiteness of electric lamps +came on in a burst. + +_Chêt-Ahadh essa hetîsenet +Mâteredjrê d'Erredjaot, +Mâtesekek d-Essekâot, +Mâtelahrlahr d'Ellerhâot, +Ettâs djenen, barâd tît-ennit abâtet._ + +Eg-Anteouen's voice raised itself in slow guttural tones. It resounded +with sad, grave majesty in the silence now complete. + +I touched the Targa's arm. With a movement of his head, he pointed to +a constellation glittering in the firmament. + +"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale +stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same +monotone: + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven: + Mâteredjrê and Erredjeâot, + Mâtesekek and Essekâot, + Mâtelahrlahr and Ellerhâot, + The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away." + +A sudden sickness came over me. I seized the Targa's arm as he was +starting to intone his refrain for the third time. + +"When will we reach this cave with the inscriptions?" I asked +brusquely. + +He looked at me and replied with his usual calm: + +"We are there." + +"We are there? Then why don't you show it to us?" + +"You did not ask me," he replied, not without a touch of insolence. + +Morhange had jumped to his feet. + +"The cave is here?" + +"It is here," Eg-Anteouen replied slowly, rising to his feet. + +"Take us to it." + +"Morhange," I said, suddenly anxious, "night is falling. We will see +nothing. And perhaps it is still some way off." + +"It is hardly five hundred paces," Eg-Anteouen replied. "The cave is +full of dead underbrush. We will set it on fire and the Captain will +see as in full daylight." + +"Come," my comrade repeated. + +"And the camels?" I hazarded. + +"They are tethered," said Eg-Anteouen, "and we shall not be gone +long." + +He had started toward the black mountain. Morhange, trembling with +excitement, followed. I followed, too, the victim of profound +uneasiness. My pulses throbbed. "I am not afraid," I kept repeating to +myself. "I swear that this is not fear." + +And really it was not fear. Yet, what a strange dizziness! There was a +mist over my eyes. My ears buzzed. Again I heard Eg-Anteouen's voice, +but multiplied, immense, and at the same time, very low. + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven...." + +It seemed to me that the voice of the mountain, re-echoing, repeated +that sinister last line to infinity: + +"And the seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown +away." + +"Here it is," said the Targa. + +A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. +We followed him. The darkness closed around us. + +A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a +pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The +smoke blinded us. + +Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave. He was +seated and, more inscrutible than ever, had begun again to blow great +puffs of gray smoke from his pipe. + +The burning brush cast a flickering light. I caught a glimpse of +Morhange. He seemed very pale. With both hands braced against the +wall, he was working to decipher a mass of signs which I could +scarcely distinguish. + +Nevertheless, I thought I could see his hands trembling. + +"The devil," I thought, finding it more and more difficult to +co-ordinate my thoughts, "he seems to be as unstrung as I." + +I heard him call out to Eg-Anteouen in what seemed to me a loud voice: + +"Stand to one side. Let the air in. What a smoke!" + +He kept on working at the signs. + +Suddenly I heard him again, but with difficulty. It seemed as if even +sounds were confused in the smoke. + +"Antinea ... At last ... Antinea. But not cut in the rock ... the +marks traced in ochre ... not ten years old, perhaps not five.... +Oh!...." + +He pressed his hands to his head. Again he cried out: + +"It is a mystery. A tragic mystery." + +I laughed teasingly. + +"Come on, come on. Don't get excited over it." + +He took me by the arm and shook me. I saw his eyes big with terror and +astonishment. + +"Are you mad?" he yelled in my face. + +"Not so loud," I replied with the same little laugh. + +He looked at me again, and sank down, overcome, on a rock opposite me. +Eg-Anteouen was still smoking placidly at the mouth of the cave. We +could see the red circle of his pipe glowing in the darkness. + +"Madman! Madman!" repeated Morhange. His voice seemed to stick in his +throat. + +Suddenly he bent over the brush which was giving its last darts of +flame, high and clear. He picked out a branch which had not yet +caught. I saw him examine it carefully, then throw it back in the fire +with a loud laugh. + +"Ha! Ha! That's good, all right!" + +He staggered toward Eg-Anteouen, pointing to the fire. + +"It's hemp. Hasheesh, hasheesh. Oh, that's a good one, all right." + +"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter. + +Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his +inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes. + +A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm. + +"I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave +him one. + +"What! A European pipe?" + +"A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer. + +"With an initial, 'M.' As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange." + +"Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly. + +"Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange. + +We laughed again. + +"Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of +Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson." + +"It was Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," repeated the Targa with imperturbable +calm. + +"Captain Masson and Colonel Flatters had left the convoy to look for +the well," said Morhange, laughing. + +"It was then that the Tuareg attacked them," I finished, laughing as +hard as I could. + +"A Targa of Ahagga seized the bridle of Captain Masson's horse," said +Morhange. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had hold of Colonel Flatters' bridle," put in +Eg-Anteouen. + +"The Colonel puts his foot in the stirrup and receives a cut from +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's saber," I said. + +"Captain Masson draws his revolver and fires on Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +shooting off three fingers of his left hand," said Morhange. + +"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull.".. + +He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up +his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in +his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I +had not noticed that before. + +Morhange also noticed it, for he finished with a loud laugh. + +"Then, after splitting his skull, you robbed him. You took his pipe +from him. Bravo, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh!" + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh does not reply, but I can see how satisfied with +himself he is. He keeps on smoking. I can hardly see his features now. +The firelight pales, dies. I have never laughed so much as this +evening. I am sure Morhange never has, either. Perhaps he will forget +the cloister. And all because Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh stole Captain +Masson's pipe.... + +Again that accursed song. "The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has +flown away." One cannot imagine more senseless words. It is very +strange, really: there seem to be four of us in this cave now. Four, I +say, five, six, seven, eight.... Make yourselves at home, my friends. +What! there are no more of you?... I am going to find out at last how +the spirits of this region are made, the _Gamphasantes_, the +_Blemyens_.... Morhange says that the _Blemyens_ have their faces on +the middle of their chests. Surely this one who is seizing me in his +arms is not a _Blemyen_! Now he is carrying me outside. And Morhange +... I do not want them to forget Morhange.... + +They did not forget him; I see him perched on a camel in front of that +one to which I am fastened. They did well to fasten me, for otherwise +I surely would tumble off. These spirits certainly are not bad +fellows. But what a long way it is! I want to stretch out. To sleep. A +while ago we surely were following a long passage, then we were in the +open air. Now we are again in an endless stifling corridor. Here are +the stars again.... Is this ridiculous course going to keep on?... + +Hello, lights! Stars, perhaps. No, lights, I say. A stairway, on my +word; of rocks, to be sure, but still, a stairway. How can the +camels...? But it is no longer a camel; this is a man carrying me. A +man dressed in white, not a _Gamphasante_ nor a _Blemyen_. Morhange +must be giving himself airs with his historical reasoning, all false, +I repeat, all false. Good Morhange. Provided that his _Gamphasante_ +does not let him fall on this unending stairway. Something glitters on +the ceiling. Yes, it is a lamp, a copper lamp, as at Tunis, at +Barbouchy's. Good, here again you cannot see anything. But I am making +a fool of myself; I am lying down; now I can go to sleep. What a silly +day!... Gentlemen, I assure you that it is unnecessary to bind me: I +do not want to go down on the boulevards. + +Darkness again. Steps of someone going away. Silence. + +But only for a moment. Someone is talking beside me. What are they +saying?... No, it is impossible. That metallic ring, that voice. Do +you know what it is calling, that voice, do you know what it is +calling in the tones of someone used to the phrase? Well, it is +calling: + +"Play your cards, gentlemen, play your cards. There are ten thousand +_louis_ in the bank. Play your cards, gentlemen." + +In the name of God, am I or am I not at Ahaggar? + + + + +VIII + +AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR + + +It was broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I thought at once of +Morhange. I could not see him, but I heard him, close by, giving +little grunts of surprise. + +I called to him. He ran to me. + +"Then they didn't tie you up?" I asked. + +"I beg your pardon. They did. But they did it badly; I managed to get +free." + +"You might have untied me, too," I remarked crossly. + +"What good would it have done? I should only have waked you up. And I +thought that your first word would be to call me. There, that's done." + +I reeled as I tried to stand on my feet. + +Morhange smiled. + +"We might have spent the whole night smoking and drinking and not been +in a worse state," he said. "Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his +hasheesh is a fine rascal." + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected. + +I rubbed my hand over my forehead. + +"Where are we?" + +"My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the +extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the +lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from +surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion. Just look around +you." + +I rubbed my eyes and stared. Then I seized my friend's hand. + +"Morhange," I begged, "tell me if we are still dreaming." + +We were in a round room, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and of about +the same height, lighted by a great window opening on a sky of intense +blue. + +Swallows flew back and forth, outside, giving quick, joyous cries. + +The floor, the incurving walls and the ceiling were of a kind of +veined marble like porphyry, panelled with a strange metal, paler than +gold, darker than silver, clouded just then by the early morning mist +that came in through the window in great puffs. + +I staggered toward this window, drawn by the freshness of the breeze +and the sunlight which was chasing away my dreams, and I leaned my +elbows on the balustrade. + +I could not restrain a cry of delight. + +I was standing on a kind of balcony, cut into the flank of a mountain, +overhanging an abyss. Above me, blue sky; below appeared a veritable +earthly paradise hemmed in on all sides by mountains that formed a +continuous and impassable wall about it. A garden lay spread out down +there. The palm trees gently swayed their great fronds. At their feet +was a tangle of the smaller trees which grow in an oasis under their +protection: almonds, lemons, oranges, and many others which I could +not distinguish from that height. A broad blue stream, fed by a +waterfall, emptied into a charming lake, the waters of which had the +marvellous transparency which comes in high altitudes. Great birds +flew in circles over this green hollow; I could see in the lake the +red flash of a flamingo. + +The peaks of the mountains which towered on all sides were completely +covered with snow. + +The blue stream, the green palms, the golden fruit, and above it all, +the miraculous snow, all this bathed in that limpid air, gave such an +impression of beauty, of purity, that my poor human strength could no +longer stand the sight of it. I laid my forehead on the balustrade, +which, too, was covered with that heavenly snow, and began to cry like +a baby. + +Morhange was behaving like another child. But he had awakened before I +had, and doubtless had had time to grasp, one by one, all these +details whose fantastic _ensemble_ staggered me. + +He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back into the +room. + +"You haven't seen anything yet," he said. "Look! Look!" + +"Morhange!" + +"Well, old man, what do you want me to do about it? Look!" + +I had just realized that the strange room was furnished--God forgive +me--in the European fashion. There were indeed, here and there, round +leather Tuareg cushions, brightly colored blankets from Gafsa, rugs +from Kairouan, and Caramani hangings which, at that moment, I should +have dreaded to draw aside. But a half-open panel in the wall showed a +bookcase crowded with books. A whole row of photographs of +masterpieces of ancient art were hung on the walls. Finally there was +a table almost hidden under its heap of papers, pamphlets, books. I +thought I should collapse at seeing a recent number of the +_Archaeological Review_. + +I looked at Morhange. He was looking at me, and suddenly a mad laugh +seized us and doubled us up for a good minute. + +"I do not know," Morhange finally managed to say, "whether or not we +shall regret some day our little excursion into Ahaggar. But admit, in +the meantime, that it promises to be rich in unexpected adventures. +That unforgettable guide who puts us to sleep just to distract us +from the unpleasantness of caravan life and who lets me experience, in +the best of good faith, the far-famed delights of hasheesh: that +fantastic night ride, and, to cap the climax, this cave of a Nureddin +who must have received the education of the Athenian Bersot at the +French _Ecole Normale_--all this is enough, on my word, to upset the +wits of the best balanced." + +"What do I think, my poor friend? Why, just what you yourself think. I +don't understand it at all, not at all. What you politely call my +learning is not worth a cent. And why shouldn't I be all mixed up? +This living in caves amazes me. Pliny speaks of the natives living in +caves, seven days' march southwest of the country of the Amantes, and +twelve days to the westward of the great Syrte. Herodotus says also +that the Garamentes used to go out in their chariots to hunt the +cave-dwelling Ethopians. But here we are in Ahaggar, in the midst of +the Targa country, and the best authorities tell us that the Tuareg +never have been willing to live in caves. Duveyrier is precise on that +point. And what is this, I ask you, but a cave turned into a workroom, +with pictures of the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Sauroctone on the +walls? I tell you that it is enough to drive you mad." + +And Morhange threw himself on a couch and began to roar with laughter +again. + +"See," I said, "this is Latin." + +I had picked up several scattered papers from the work-table in the +middle of the room. Morhange took them from my hands and devoured them +greedily. His face expressed unbounded stupefaction. + +"Stranger and stranger, my boy. Someone here is composing, with much +citation of texts, a dissertation on the Gorgon Islands: _de Gorgonum +insulis_. Medusa, according to him, was a Libyan savage who lived near +Lake Triton, our present Chott Melhrir, and it is there that Perseus +... Ah!" + +Morhange's words choked in his throat. A sharp, shrill voice pierced +the immense room. + +"Gentlemen, I beg you, let my papers alone." + +I turned toward the newcomer. + +One of the Caramani curtains was drawn aside, and the most unexpected +of persons came in. Resigned as we were to unexpected events, the +improbability of this sight exceeded anything our imaginations could +have devised. + +On the threshold stood a little bald-headed man with a pointed sallow +face half hidden by an enormous pair of green spectacles and a pepper +and salt beard. No shirt was visible, but an impressive broad red +cravat. He wore white trousers. Red leather slippers furnished the +only Oriental suggestion of his costume. + +He wore, not without pride, the rosette of an officer of the +Department of Education. + +He collected the papers which Morhange had dropped in his amazement, +counted them, arranged them; then, casting a peevish glance at us, he +struck a copper gong. + +The portiére was raised again. A huge white Targa entered. I seemed to +recognize him as one of the genii of the cave.[8] + +[Footnote 8: The Negro serfs among the Tuareg are generally called +"white Tuareg." While the nobles are clad in blue cotton robes, the +serfs wear white robes, hence their name of "white Tuareg." See, in +this connection, Duveyrier: _les Tuareg du Nord_, page 292. (Note by +M. Leroux.)] + +"Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of +Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?" + +The Targa bowed respectfully. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, +"and last night the embalmers had not yet finished. They brought them +here in the meantime," and he pointed to us. + +"Very well, you may go," snapped the little man. + +Ferradji backed toward the door. On the threshold, he stopped and +spoke again: + +"I was to remind you, sir, that dinner is served." + +"All right. Go along." + +And the little man seated himself at the desk and began to finger the +papers feverishly. + +I do not know why, but a mad feeling of exasperation seized me. I +walked toward him. + +"Sir," I said, "my friend and I do not know where we are nor who you +are. We can see only that you are French, since you are wearing one of +the highest honorary decorations of our country. You may have made the +same observation on your part," I added, indicating the slender red +ribbon which I wore on my vest. + +He looked at me in contemptuous surprise. + +"Well, sir?" + +"Well, sir, the Negro who just went out pronounced the name of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, the name of a brigand, a bandit, one of the +assassins of Colonel Flatters. Are you acquainted with that detail, +sir?" + +The little man surveyed me coldly and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Certainly. But what difference do you suppose that makes to me?" + +"What!" I cried, beside myself with rage. "Who are you, anyway?" + +"Sir," said the little old man with comical dignity, turning to +Morhange, "I call you to witness the strange manners of your +companion. I am here in my own house and I do not allow...." + +"You must excuse my comrade, sir," said Morhange, stepping forward. +"He is not a man of letters, as you are. These young lieutenants are +hot-headed, you know. And besides, you can understand why both of us +are not as calm as might be desired." + +I was furious and on the point of disavowing these strangely humble +words of Morhange. But a glance showed me that there was as much irony +as surprise in his expression. + +"I know indeed that most officers are brutes," grumbled the little old +man. "But that is no reason...." + +"I am only an officer myself," Morhange went on, in an even humbler +tone, "and if ever I have been sensible to the intellectual +inferiority of that class, I assure you that it was now in glancing--I +beg your pardon for having taken the liberty to do so--in glancing +over the learned pages which you devote to the passionate story of +Medusa, according to Procles of Carthage, cited by Pausanias." + +A laughable surprise spread over the features of the little old man. +He hastily wiped his spectacles. + +"What!" he finally cried. + +"It is indeed unfortunate, in this matter," Morhange continued +imperturbably, "that we are not in possession of the curious +dissertation devoted to this burning question by Statius Sebosus, a +work which we know only through Pliny and which...." + +"You know Statius Sebosus?" + +"And which, my master, the geographer Berlioux...." + +"You knew Berlioux--you were his pupil?" stammered the little man with +the decoration. + +"I have had that honor," replied Morhange, very coldly. + +"But, but, sir, then you have heard mentioned, you are familiar with +the question, the problem of Atlantis?" + +"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois +de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly. + +"My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. +"Sir--Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...." + +Just then, the portiére was raised. Ferradji appeared again. + +"Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin +without you." + +"I am coming, I am coming. Say, Ferradji, that we will be there in a +moment. Why, sir, if I had foreseen ... It is extraordinary ... to +find an officer who knows Procles of Carthage and Arbois de +Jubainville. Again ... But I must introduce myself. I am Etienne Le +Mesge, Fellow of the University." + +"Captain Morhange," said my companion. + +I stepped forward in my turn. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit. It is a fact, sir, that I am very likely to +confuse Arbois of Carthage with Procles de Jubainville. Later, I shall +have to see about filling up those gaps. But just now, I should like +to know where we are, if we are free, and if not, what occult power +holds us. You have the appearance, sir, of being sufficiently at home +in this house to be able to enlighten us upon this point, which I must +confess, I weakly consider of the first importance." + +M. Le Mesge looked at me. A rather malevolent smile twitched the +corners of his mouth. He opened his lips.... + +A gong sounded impatiently. + +"In good time, gentlemen, I will tell you. I will explain +everything.... But now you see that we must hurry. It is time for +lunch and our fellow diners will get tired of waiting." + +"Our fellow diners?" + +"There are two of them," M. Le Mesge explained. "We three constitute +the European personnel of the house, that is, the fixed personnel," he +seemed to feel obliged to add, with his disquieting smile. "Two +strange fellows, gentlemen, with whom, doubtless, you will care to +have as little to do as possible. One is a churchman, narrow-minded, +though a Protestant. The other is a man of the world gone astray, an +old fool." + +"Pardon," I said, "but it must have been he whom I heard last night. +He was gambling: with you and the minister, doubtless?" + +M. Le Mesge made a gesture of offended dignity. + +"The idea! With me, sir? It is with the Tuareg that he plays. He +teaches them every game imaginable. There, that is he who is striking +the gong to hurry us up. It is half past nine, and the _Salle de +Trente et Quarante_ opens at ten o'clock. Let us hurry. I suppose that +anyway you will not be averse to a little refreshment." + +"Indeed we shall not refuse," Morhange replied. + +We followed M. Le Mesge along a long winding corridor with frequent +steps. The passage was dark. But at intervals rose-colored night +lights and incense burners were placed in niches cut into the solid +rock. The passionate Oriental scents perfumed the darkness and +contrasted strangely with the cold air of the snowy peaks. + +From time to time, a white Targa, mute and expressionless as a +phantom, would pass us and we would hear the clatter of his slippers +die away behind us. + +M. Le Mesge stopped before a heavy door covered with the same pale +metal which I had noticed on the walls of the library. He opened it +and stood aside to let us pass. + +Although the dining room which we entered had little in common with +European dining rooms, I have known many which might have envied its +comfort. Like the library, it was lighted by a great window. But I +noticed that it had an outside exposure, while that of the library +overlooked the garden in the center of the crown of mountains. + +No center table and none of those barbaric pieces of furniture that we +call chairs. But a great number of buffet tables of gilded wood, like +those of Venice, heavy hangings of dull and subdued colors, and +cushions, Tuareg or Tunisian. In the center was a huge mat on which a +feast was placed in finely woven baskets among silver pitchers and +copper basins filled with perfumed water. The sight of it filled me +with childish satisfaction. + +M. Le Mesge stepped forward and introduced us to the two persons who +already had taken their places on the mat. + +"Mr. Spardek," he said; and by that simple phrase I understood how far +our host placed himself above vain human titles. + +The Reverend Mr. Spardek, of Manchester, bowed reservedly and asked +our permission to keep on his tall, wide-brimmed hat. He was a dry, +cold man, tall and thin. He ate in pious sadness, enormously. + +"Monsieur Bielowsky," said M. Le Mesge, introducing us to the second +guest. + +"Count Casimir Bielowsky, Hetman of Jitomir," the latter corrected +with perfect good humor as he stood up to shake hands. + +I felt at once a certain liking for the Hetman of Jitomir who was a +perfect example of an old beau. His chocolate-colored hair was parted +in the center (later I found out that the Hetman dyed it with a +concoction of _khol_). He had magnificent whiskers, also +chocolate-colored, in the style of the Emperor Francis Joseph. His +nose was undeniably a little red, but so fine, so aristocratic. His +hands were marvelous. It took some thought to place the date of the +style of the count's costume, bottle green with yellow facings, +ornamented with a huge seal of silver and enamel. The recollection of +a portrait of the Duke de Morny made me decide on 1860 or 1862; and +the further chapters of this story will show that I was not far wrong. + +The count made me sit down beside him. One of his first questions was +to demand if I ever cut fives.[9] + +[Footnote 9: _Tirer à cinq_, a card game played only for very high +stakes.] + +"That depends on how I feel," I replied. + +"Well said. I have not done so since 1866. I swore off. A row. The +devil of a party. One day at Walewski's. I cut fives. Naturally I +wasn't worrying any. The other had a four. 'Idiot!' cried the little +Baron de Chaux Gisseux who was laying staggering sums on my table. I +hurled a bottle of champagne at his head. He ducked. It was Marshal +Baillant who got the bottle. A scene! The matter was fixed up because +we were both Free Masons. The Emperor made me promise not to cut fives +again. I have kept my promise not to cut fives again. I have kept my +promise. But there are moments when it is hard...." + +He added in a voice steeped in melancholy: + +"Try a little of this Ahaggar 1880. Excellent vintage. It is I, +Lieutenant, who instructed these people in the uses of the juice of +the vine. The vine of the palm trees is very good when it is properly +fermented, but it gets insipid in the long run." + +It was powerful, that Ahaggar 1880. We sipped it from large silver +goblets. It was fresh as Rhine wine, dry as the wine of the Hermitage. +And then, suddenly, it brought back recollections of the burning wines +of Portugal; it seemed sweet, fruity, an admirable wine, I tell you. + +That wine crowned the most perfect of luncheons. There were few meats, +to be sure; but those few were remarkably seasoned. Profusion of +cakes, pancakes served with honey, fragrant fritters, cheese-cakes of +sour milk and dates. And everywhere, in great enamel platters or +wicker jars, fruit, masses of fruit, figs, dates, pistachios, jujubes, +pomegranates, apricots, huge bunches of grapes, larger than those +which bent the shoulders of the Hebrews in the land of Canaan, heavy +watermelons cut in two, showing their moist, red pulp and their rows +of black seeds. + +I had scarcely finished one of these beautiful iced fruits, when M. Le +Mesge rose. + +"Gentlemen, if you are ready," he said to Morhange and me. + +"Get away from that old dotard as soon as you can," whispered the +Hetman of Jitomir to me. "The party of _Trente et Quarante_ will begin +soon. You shall see. You shall see. We go it even harder than at Cora +Pearl's." + +"Gentlemen," repeated M. Le Mesge in his dry tone. + +We followed him. When the three of us were back again in the library, +he said, addressing me: + +"You, sir, asked a little while ago what occult power holds you here. +Your manner was threatening, and I should have refused to comply had +it not been for your friend, whose knowledge enables him to appreciate +better than you the value of the revelations I am about to make to +you." + +He touched a spring in the side of the wall. A cupboard appeared, +stuffed with books. He took one. + +"You are both of you," continued M. Le Mesge, "in the power of a +woman. This woman, the sultaness, the queen, the absolute sovereign of +Ahaggar, is called Antinea. Don't start, M. Morhange, you will soon +understand." + +He opened the book and read this sentence: + +"'I must warn you before I take up the subject matter: do not be +surprised to hear me call the barbarians by Greek names.'" + +"What is that book?" stammered Morhange, whose pallor terrified me. + +"This book," M. Le Mesge replied very slowly, weighing his words, with +an extraordinary expression of triumph, "is the greatest, the most +beautiful, the most secret, of the dialogues of Plato; it is the +Critias of Atlantis." + +"The Critias? But it is unfinished," murmured Morhange. + +"It is unfinished in France, in Europe, everywhere else," said M. Le +Mesge, "but it is finished here. Look for yourself at this copy." + +"But what connection," repeated Morhange, while his eyes traveled +avidly over the pages, "what connection can there be between this +dialogue, complete,--yes, it seems to me complete--what connection +with this woman, Antinea? Why should it be in her possession?" + +"Because," replied the little man imperturbably, "this book is her +patent of nobility, her _Almanach de Gotha_, in a sense, do you +understand? Because it established her prodigious genealogy: because +she is...." + +"Because she is?" repeated Morhange. + +"Because she is the grand daughter of Neptune, the last descendant of +the Atlantides." + + + + +IX + +ATLANTIS + + +M. Le Mesge looked at Morhange triumphantly. It was evident that he +addressed himself exclusively to Morhange, considering him alone +worthy of his confidences. + +"There have been many, sir," he said, "both French and foreign +officers who have been brought here at the caprice of our sovereign, +Antinea. You are the first to be honored by my disclosures. But you +were the pupil of Berlioux, and I owe so much to the memory of that +great man that it seems to me I may do him homage by imparting to one +of his disciples the unique results of my private research." + +He struck the bell. Ferradji appeared. + +"Coffee for these gentlemen," ordered M. Le Mesge. + +He handed us a box, gorgeously decorated in the most flaming colors, +full of Egyptian cigarettes. + +"I never smoke," he explained. "But Antinea sometimes comes here. +These are her cigarettes. Help yourselves, gentlemen." + +I have always had a horror of that pale tobacco which gives a barber +of the Rue de la Michodière the illusion of oriental voluptuousness. +But, in their way, these musk-scented cigarettes were not bad, and it +was a long time since I had used up my stock of Caporal. + +"Here are the back numbers of _Le Vie Parisienne_" said M. Le Mesge +to me. "Amuse yourself with them, if you like, while I talk to your +friend." + +"Sir," I replied brusquely, "it is true that I never studied with +Berlioux. Nevertheless, you must allow me to listen to your +conversation: I shall hope to find something in it to amuse me." + +"As you wish," said the little old man. + +We settled ourselves comfortably. M. Le Mesge sat down before the +desk, shot his cuffs, and commenced as follows: + +"However much, gentlemen, I prize complete objectivity in matters of +erudition, I cannot utterly detach my own history from that of the +last descendant of Clito and Neptune. + +"I am the creation of my own efforts. From my childhood, the +prodigious impulse given to the science of history by the nineteenth +century has affected me. I saw where my way led. I have followed it, +in spite of everything. + +"In spite of everything, everything--I mean it literally. With no +other resources than my own work and merit, I was received as Fellow +of History and Geography at the examination of 1880. A great +examination! Among the thirteen who were accepted there were names +which have since become illustrious: Julian, Bourgeois, Auerbach.... I +do not envy my colleagues on the summits of their official honors; I +read their works with commiseration; and the pitiful errors to which +they are condemned by the insufficiency of their documents would amply +counterbalance my chagrin and fill me with ironic joy, had I not been +raised long since above the satisfaction of self-love. + +"When I was Professor at the Lycée du Parc at Lyons. I knew Berlioux +and followed eagerly his works on African History. I had, at that +time, a very original idea for my doctor's thesis. I was going to +establish a parallel between the Berber heroine of the seventh +century, who struggled against the Arab invader, Kahena, and the +French heroine, Joan of Arc, who struggled against the English +invader. I proposed to the _Faculté des Lettres_ at Paris this title +for my thesis: _Joan of Arc and the Tuareg_. This simple announcement +gave rise to a perfect outcry in learned circles, a furor of +ridicule. My friends warned me discreetly. I refused to believe them. +Finally I was forced to believe when my rector summoned me before him +and, after manifesting an astonishing interest in my health, asked +whether I should object to taking two years' leave on half pay. I +refused indignantly. The rector did not insist; but fifteen days +later, a ministerial decree, with no other legal procedure, assigned +me to one of the most insignificant and remote Lycées of France, at +Mont-de-Marsan. + +"Realize my exasperation and you will excuse the excesses to which I +delivered myself in that strange country. What is there to do in +Landes, if you neither eat nor drink? I did both violently. My pay +melted away in _fois gras_, in woodcocks, in fine wines. The result +came quickly enough: in less than a year my joints began to crack like +the over-oiled axle of a bicycle that has gone a long way upon a dusty +track. A sharp attack of gout nailed me to my bed. Fortunately, in +that blessed country, the cure is in reach of the suffering. So I +departed to Dax, at vacation time, to try the waters. + +"I rented a room on the bank of the Adour, overlooking the _Promenade +des Baignots_. A charwoman took care of it for me. She worked also for +an old gentleman, a retired Examining Magistrate, President of the +Roger-Ducos Society, which was a vague scientific backwater, in which +the scholars of the neighborhood applied themselves with prodigious +incompetence to the most whimsical subjects. One afternoon I stayed in +my room on account of a very heavy rain. The good woman was +energetically polishing the copper latch of my door. She used a paste +called Tripoli, which she spread upon a paper and rubbed and +rubbed.... The peculiar appearance of the paper made me curious. I +glanced at it. 'Great heavens! Where did you get this paper?' She was +perturbed. 'At my master's; he has lots of it. I tore this out of a +notebook.' 'Here are ten francs. Go and get me the notebook.' + +"A quarter of an hour later, she was back with it. By good luck it +lacked only one page, the one with which she had been polishing my +door. This manuscript, this notebook, have you any idea what it was? +Merely the _Voyage to Atlantis_ of the mythologist Denis de Milet, +which is mentioned by Diodorus and the loss of which I had so often +heard Berlioux deplore.[10] + +[Footnote 10: How did the _Voyage to Atlantis_ arrive at Dax? I have +found, so far, only one credible hypothesis: it might have been +discovered in Africa by the traveller, de Behagle, a member of the +Roger-Ducos Society, who studied at the college of Dax, and later, on +several occasions, visited the town. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"This inestimable document contained numerous quotations from the +Critias. It gave an abstract of the illustrious dialogue, the sole +existing copy of which you held in your hands a little while ago. It +established past controversy the location of the stronghold of the +Atlantides, and demonstrated that this site, which is denied by +science, was not submerged by the waves, as is supposed by the rare +and timorous defenders of the Atlantide hypothesis. He called it the +'central Mazycian range,' You know there is no longer any doubt as to +the identification of the Mazyces of Herodotus with the people of +Imoschaoch, the Tuareg. But the manuscript of Denys unquestionably +identifies the historical Mazyces with the Atlantides of the supposed +legend. + +"I learned, therefore, from Denys, not only that the central part of +Atlantis, the cradle and home of the dynasty of Neptune, had not sunk +in the disaster described by Plato as engulfing the rest of the +Atlantide isle, but also that it corresponded to the Tuareg Ahaggar, +and that, in this Ahaggar, at least in his time, the noble dynasty of +Neptune was supposed to be still existent. + +"The historians of Atlantis put the date of the cataclysm which +destroyed all or part of that famous country at nine thousand years +before Christ. If Denis de Milet, who wrote scarcely three thousand +years ago, believed that in his time, the dynastic issue of Neptune +was still ruling its dominion, you will understand that I thought +immediately--what has lasted nine thousand years may last eleven +thousand. From that instant I had only one aim: to find the possible +descendants of the Atlantides, and, since I had many reasons for +supposing them to be debased and ignorant of their original splendor, +to inform them of their illustrious descent. + +"You will easily understand that I imparted none of my intentions to +my superiors at the University. To solicit their approval or even +their permission, considering the attitude they had taken toward me, +would have been almost certainly to invite confinement in a cell. So I +raised what I could on my own account, and departed without trumpet or +drum for Oran. On the first of October I reached In-Salah. Stretched +at my ease beneath a palm tree, at the oasis, I took infinite pleasure +in considering how, that very day, the principal of Mont-de-Marsan, +beside himself, struggling to control twenty horrible urchins howling +before the door of an empty class room, would be telegraphing wildly +in all directions in search of his lost history professor." + +M. Le Mesge stopped and looked at us to mark his satisfaction. + +I admit that I forgot my dignity and I forgot the affectation he had +steadily assumed of talking only to Morhange. + +"You will pardon me, sir, if your discourse interests me more than I +had anticipated. But you know very well that I lack the fundamental +instruction necessary to understand you. You speak of the dynasty of +Neptune. What is this dynasty, from which, I believe, you trace the +descent of Antinea? What is her rôle in the story of Atlantis?" + +M. Le Mesge smiled with condescension, meantime winking at Morhange +with the eye nearest to him. Morhange was listening without +expression, without a word, chin in hand, elbow on knee. + +"Plato will answer for me, sir," said the Professor. + +And he added, with an accent of inexpressible pity: + +"Is it really possible that you have never made the acquaintance of +the introduction to the Critias?" + +He placed on the table the book by which Morhange had been so +strangely moved. He adjusted his spectacles and began to read. It +seemed as if the magic of Plato vibrated through and transfigured this +ridiculous little old man. + +"'Having drawn by lot the different parts of the earth, the gods +obtained, some a larger, and some, a smaller share. It was thus that +Neptune, having received in the division the isle of Atlantis, came to +place the children he had had by a mortal in one part of that isle. +It was not far from the sea, a plain situated in the midst of the +isle, the most beautiful, and, they say, the most fertile of plains. +About fifty stades from that plain, in the middle of the isle, was a +mountain. There dwelt one of those men who, in the very beginning, was +born of the Earth, Evenor, with his wife, Leucippe. They had only one +daughter, Clito. She was marriageable when her mother and father died, +and Neptune, being enamored of her, married her. Neptune fortified the +mountain where she dwelt by isolating it. He made alternate girdles of +sea and land, the one smaller, the others greater, two of earth and +three of water, and centered them round the isle in such a manner that +they were at all parts equally distant!..." + +M. Le Mesge broke off his reading. + +"Does this arrangement recall nothing to you?" he queried. + +"Morhange, Morhange!" I stammered. "You remember--our route yesterday, +our abduction, the two corridors that we had to cross before arriving +at this mountain?... The girdles of earth and of water?... Two +tunnels, two enclosures of earth?" + +"Ha! Ha!" chuckled M. Le Mesge. + +He smiled as he looked at me. I understood that this smile meant: "Can +he be less obtuse than I had supposed?" + +As if with a mighty effort, Morhange broke the silence. + +"I understand well enough, I understand.... The three girdles of +water.... But then, you are supposing, sir,--an explanation the +ingeniousness of which I do not contest--you are supposing the exact +hypothesis of the Saharan sea!" + +"I suppose it, and I can prove it," replied the irascible little old +chap, banging his fist on the table. "I know well enough what Schirmer +and the rest have advanced against it. I know it better than you do. I +know all about it, sir. I can present all the proofs for your +consideration. And in the meantime, this evening at dinner, you will +no doubt enjoy some excellent fish. And you will tell me if these +fish, caught in the lake that you can see from this window, seem to +you fresh water fish. + +"You must realize," he continued, "the mistake of those who, believing +in Atlantis, have sought to explain the cataclysm in which they +suppose the island to have sunk. Without exception, they have thought +that it was swallowed up. Actually, there has not been an immersion. +There has been an emersion. New lands have emerged from the Atlantic +wave. The desert has replaced the sea, the _sebkhas_, the salt lakes, +the Triton lakes, the sandy Syrtes are the desolate vestiges of the +free sea water over which, in former days, the fleets swept with a +fair wind towards the conquest of Attica. Sand swallows up +civilization better than water. To-day there remains nothing of the +beautiful isle that the sea and winds kept gay and verdant but this +chalky mass. Nothing has endured in this rocky basin, cut off forever +from the living world, but the marvelous oasis that you have at your +feet, these red fruits, this cascade, this blue lake, sacred witnesses +to the golden age that is gone. Last evening, in coming here, you had +to cross the five enclosures: the three belts of water, dry forever; +the two girdles of earth through which are hollowed the passages you +traversed on camel back, where, formerly, the triremes floated. The +only thing that, in this immense catastrophe, has preserved its +likeness to its former state, is this mountain, the mountain where +Neptune shut up his well-beloved Clito, the daughter of Evenor and +Leucippe, the mother of Atlas, and the ancestress of Antinea, the +sovereign under whose dominion you are about to enter forever." + +"Sir," Morhange with the most exquisite courtesy, "it would be only a +natural anxiety which would urge us to inquire the reasons and the end +of this dominion. But behold to what extent your revelation interests +me; I defer this question of private interest. Of late, in two +caverns, it has been my fortune to discover Tifinar inscriptions of +this name, Antinea. My comrade is witness that I took it for a Greek +name. I understand now, thanks to you and the divine Plato, that I +need no longer feel surprised to hear a barbarian called by a Greek +name. But I am no less perplexed as to the etymology of the word. Can +you enlighten me?" + +"I shall certainly not fail you there, sir," said M. Le Mesge. "I may +tell you, too, that you are not the first to put to me that question. +Most of the explorers that I have seen enter here in the past ten +years have been attracted in the same way, intrigued by this Greek +work reproduced in Tifinar. I have even arranged a fairly exact +catalogue of these inscriptions and the caverns where they are to be +met with. All, or almost all, are accompanied by this legend: +_Antinea. Here commences her domain_. I myself have had repainted with +ochre such as were beginning to be effaced. But, to return to what I +was telling you before, none of the Europeans who have followed this +epigraphic mystery here, have kept their anxiety to solve this +etymology once they found themselves in Antinea's palace. They all +become otherwise preoccupied. I might make many disclosures as to the +little real importance which purely scientific interests possess even +for scholars, and the quickness with which they sacrifice them to the +most mundane considerations--their own lives, for instance." + +"Let us take that up another time, sir, if it is satisfactory to you," +said Morhange, always admirably polite. + +"This digression had only one point, sir: to show you that I do not +count you among these unworthy scholars. You are really eager to know +the origin of this name, _Antinea_, and that before knowing what kind +of woman it belongs to and her motives for holding you and this +gentleman as her prisoners." + +I stared hard at the little old man. But he spoke with profound +seriousness. + +"So much the better for you, my boy," I thought. "Otherwise it +wouldn't have taken me long to send you through the window to air your +ironies at your ease. The law of gravity ought not to be topsy-turvy +here at Ahaggar." + +"You, no doubt, formulated several hypotheses when you first +encountered the name, Antinea," continued M. Le Mesge, imperturbable +under my fixed gaze, addressing himself to Morhange. "Would you object +to repeating them to me?" + +"Not at all, sir," said Morhange. + +And, very composedly, he enumerated the etymological suggestions I +have given previously. + +The little man with the cherry-colored shirt front rubbed his hands. + +"Very good," he admitted with an accent of intense jubilation. +"Amazingly good, at least for one with only the modicum of Greek that +you possess. But it is all none the less false, super-false." + +"It is because I suspected as much that I put my question to you," +said Morhange blandly. + +"I will not keep you longer in suspense," said M. Le Mesge. "The word, +Antinea, is composed as follows: _ti_ is nothing but a Tifinar +addition to an essentially Greek name. _Ti_ is the Berber feminine +article. We have several examples of this combination. Take _Tipasa_, +the North African town. The name means the whole, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: nap]. So, _tinea_ signifies the new, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: ea]." + +"And the prefix, _an_?" queried Morhang. + +"Is it possible, sir, that I have put myself to the trouble of talking +to you for a solid hour about the Critias with such trifling effect? +It is certain that the prefix _an_, alone, has no meaning. You will +understand that it has one, when I tell you that we have here a very +curious case of apocope. You must not read _an_; you must read _atlan_. +_Atl_ has been lost, by apocope; _an_ has survived. To sum up, Antinea +is composed in the following manner: [Greek: ti-nea--atl'An]. And its +meaning, _the new Atlantis_, is dazzlingly apparent from this +demonstration." + +I looked at Morhange. His astonishment was without bounds. The Berber +prefix _ti_ had literally stunned him. + +"Have you had occasion, sir, to verify this very ingenious etymology?" +he was finally able to gasp out. + +"You have only to glance over these few books," said M. Le Mesge +disdainfully. + +He opened successively five, ten, twenty cupboards. An enormous +library was spread out to our view. + +"Everything, everything--it is all here," murmured Morhange, with an +astonishing inflection of terror and admiration. + +"Everything that is worth consulting, at any rate," said M. Le Mesge. +"All the great books, whose loss the so-called learned world deplores +to-day." + +"And how has it happened?" + +"Sir, you distress me. I thought you familiar with certain events. You +are forgetting, then, the passage where Pliny the Elder speaks of the +library of Carthage and the treasures which were accumulated there? In +146, when that city fell under the blows of the knave, Scipio, the +incredible collection of illiterates who bore the name of the Roman +Senate had only the profoundest contempt for these riches. They +presented them to the native kings. This is how Mantabal received this +priceless heritage; it was transmitted to his son and grandson, +Hiempsal, Juba I, Juba II, the husband of the admirable Cleopatra +Selene, the daughter of the great Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Cleopatra +Selene had a daughter who married an Atlantide king. This is how +Antinea, the daughter of Neptune, counts among her ancestors the +immortal queen of Egypt. That is how, by following the laws of +inheritance, the remains of the library of Carthage, enriched by the +remnants of the library of Alexandria, are actually before your eyes. + +"Science fled from man. While he was building those monstrous Babels +of pseudo-science in Berlin, London, Paris, Science was taking refuge +in this desert corner of Ahaggar. They may well forge their hypotheses +back there, based on the loss of the mysterious works of antiquity: +these works are not lost. They are here. They are here: the Hebrew, +the Chaldean, the Assyrian books. Here, the great Egyptian traditions +which inspired Solon, Herodotus and Plato. Here, the Greek +mythologists, the magicians of Roman Africa, the Indian mystics, all +the treasures, in a word, for the lack of which contemporary +dissertations are poor laughable things. Believe me, he is well +avenged, the little universitarian whom they took for a madman, whom +they defied. I have lived, I live, I shall live in a perpetual burst +of laughter at their false and garbled erudition. And when I shall be +dead, Error,--thanks to the jealous precaution of Neptune taken to +isolate his well-beloved Clito from the rest of the world,--Error, I +say, will continue to reign as sovereign mistress over their pitiful +compositions." + +"Sir," said Morhange in grave voice, "you have just affirmed the +influence of Egypt on the civilizations of the people here. For +reasons which some day, perhaps, I shall have occasion to explain to +you, I would like to have proof of that relationship." + +"We need not wait for that, sir," said M. Le Mesge. Then, in my turn, +I advanced. + +"Two words, if you please, sir," I said brutally. "I will not hide +from you that these historical discussions seem to me absolutely out +of place. It is not my fault if you have had trouble with the +University, and if you are not to-day at the College of France or +elsewhere. For the moment, just one thing concerns me: to know just +what this lady, Antinea, wants with us. My comrade would like to know +her relation with ancient Egypt: very well. For my part, I desire +above everything to know her relations with the government of Algeria +and the Arabian Bureau." + +M. Le Mesge gave a strident laugh. + +"I am going to give you an answer that will satisfy you both," he +replied. + +And he added: + +"Follow me. It is time that you should learn." + + + + +X + +THE RED MARBLE HALL + + +We passed through an interminable series of stairs and corridors +following M. Le Mesge. + +"You lose all sense of direction in this labyrinth," I muttered to +Morhange. + +"Worse still, you will lose your head," answered my companion _sotto +voce_. "This old fool is certainly very learned; but God knows what he +is driving at. However, he has promised that we are soon to know." + +M. Le Mesge had stopped before a heavy dark door, all incrusted with +strange symbols. Turning the lock with difficulty, he opened it. + +"Enter, gentlemen, I beg you," he said. + +A gust of cold air struck us full in the face. The room we were +entering was chill as a vault. + +At first, the darkness allowed me to form no idea of its proportions. +The lighting, purposely subdued, consisted of twelve enormous copper +lamps, placed column-like upon the ground and burning with brilliant +red flames. As we entered, the wind from the corridor made the flames +flicker, momentarily casting about us our own enlarged and misshapen +shadows. Then the gust died down, and the flames, no longer flurried, +again licked up the darkness with their motionless red tongues. + +These twelve giant lamps (each one about ten feet high) were arranged +in a kind of crown, the diameter of which must have been about fifty +feet. In the center of this circle was a dark mass, all streaked with +trembling red reflections. When I drew nearer, I saw it was a bubbling +fountain. It was the freshness of this water which had maintained the +temperature of which I have spoken. + +Huge seats were cut in the central rock from which gushed the +murmuring, shadowy fountain. They were heaped with silky cushions. +Twelve incense burners, within the circle of red lamps, formed a +second crown, half as large in diameter. Their smoke mounted toward +the vault, invisible in the darkness, but their perfume, combined with +the coolness and sound of the water, banished from the soul all other +desire than to remain there forever. + +M. Le Mesge made us sit down in the center of the hall, on the +Cyclopean seats. He seated himself between us. + +"In a few minutes," he said, "your eyes will grow accustomed to the +obscurity." + +I noticed that he spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were in church. + +Little by little, our eyes did indeed grow used to the red light. Only +the lower part of the great hall was illuminated. The whole vault was +drowned in shadow and its height was impossible to estimate. Vaguely, +I could perceive overhead a great smooth gold chandelier, flecked, +like everything else, with sombre red reflections. But there was no +means of judging the length of the chain by which it hung from the +dark ceiling. + +The marble of the pavement was of so high a polish, that the great +torches were reflected even there. + +This room, I repeat, was round a perfect circle of which the fountain +at our backs was the center. + +We sat facing the curving walls. Before long, we began to be able to +see them. They were of peculiar construction, divided into a series +of niches, broken, ahead of us, by the door which had just opened to +give us passage, behind us, by a second door, a still darker hole +which I divined in the darkness when I turned around. From one door to +the other, I counted sixty niches, making, in all, one hundred and +twenty. Each was about ten feet high. Each contained a kind of case, +larger above than below, closed only at the lower end. In all these +cases, except two just opposite me, I thought I could discern a +brilliant shape, a human shape certainly, something like a statue of +very pale bronze. In the arc of the circle before me, I counted +clearly thirty of these strange statues. + +What were these statues? I wanted to see. I rose. + +M. Le Mesge put his hand on my arm. + +"In good time," he murmured in the same low voice, "all in good time." + +The Professor was watching the door by which we had entered the hall, +and from behind which we could hear the sound of footsteps becoming +more and more distinct. + +It opened quietly to admit three Tuareg slaves. Two of them were +carrying a long package on their shoulders; the third seemed to be +their chief. + +At a sign from him, they placed the package on the ground and drew out +from one of the niches the case which it contained. + +"You may approach, gentlemen," said M. Le Mesge. + +He motioned the three Tuareg to withdraw several paces. + +"You asked me, not long since, for some proof of the Egyptian +influence on this country," said M. Le Mesge. "What do you say to that +case, to begin with?" + +As he spoke, he pointed to the case that the servants had deposited +upon the ground after they took it from its niche. + +Morhange uttered a thick cry. + +We had before us one of those cases designed for the preservation of +mummies. The same shiny wood, the same bright decorations, the only +difference being that here Tifinar writing replaced the hieroglyphics. +The form, narrow at the base, broader above, ought to have been enough +to enlighten us. + +I have already said that the lower half of this large case was +closed, giving the whole structure the appearance of a rectangular +wooden shoe. + +M. Le Mesge knelt and fastened on the lower part of the case, a square +of white cardboard, a large label, that he had picked up from his +desk, a few minutes before, on leaving the library. + +"You may read," he said simply, but still in the same low tone. + +I knelt also, for the light of the great candelabra was scarcely +sufficient to read the label where, none the less, I recognized the +Professor's handwriting. + +It bore these few words, in a large round hand: + +"Number 53. Major Sir Archibald Russell. Born at Richmond, July 5, +1860. Died at Ahaggar, December 3, 1896." + +I leapt to my feet. + +"Major Russell!" I exclaimed. + +"Not so loud, not so loud," said M. Le Mesge. "No one speaks out loud +here." + +"The Major Russell," I repeated, obeying his injunction as if in spite +of myself, "who left Khartoum last year, to explore Sokoto?" + +"The same," replied the Professor. + +"And ... where is Major Russell?" + +"He is there," replied M. Le Mesge. + +The Professor made a gesture. The Tuareg approached. + +A poignant silence reigned in the mysterious hall, broken only by the +fresh splashing of the fountain. + +The three Negroes were occupied in undoing the package that they had +put down near the painted case. Weighed down with wordless horror, +Morhange and I stood watching. + +Soon, a rigid form, a human form, appeared. A red gleam played over +it. We had before us, stretched out upon the ground, a statue of pale +bronze, wrapped in a kind of white veil, a statue like those all +around us, upright in their niches. It seemed to fix us with an +impenetrable gaze. + +"Sir Archibald Russell," murmured M. Le Mesge slowly. + +Morhange approached, speechless, but strong enough to lift up the +white veil. For a long, long time he gazed at the sad bronze statue. + +"A mummy, a mummy?" he said finally. "You deceive yourself, sir, this +is no mummy." + +"Accurately speaking, no," replied M. Le Mesge. "This is not a mummy. +None the less, you have before you the mortal remains of Sir Archibald +Russell. I must point out to you, here, my dear sir, that the +processes of embalming used by Antinea differ from the processes +employed in ancient Egypt. Here, there is no natron, nor bands, nor +spices. The industry of Ahaggar, in a single effort, has achieved a +result obtained by European science only after long experiments. +Imagine my surprise, when I arrived here and found that they were +employing a method I supposed known only to the civilized world." + +M. Le Mesge struck a light tap with his finger on the forehead of Sir +Archibald Russell. It rang like metal. + +"It is bronze," I said. "That is not a human forehead: it is bronze." + +M. Le Mesge shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is a human forehead," he affirmed curtly, "and not bronze. Bronze +is darker, sir. This is the great unknown metal of which Plato speaks +in the Critias, and which is something between gold and silver: it is +the special metal of the mountains of the Atlantides. It is +_orichalch_." + +Bending again, I satisfied myself that this metal was the same as that +with which the walls of the library were overcast. + +"It is orichalch," continued M. Le Mesge. "You look as if you had no +idea how a human body can look like a statue of orichalch. Come, +Captain Morhange, you whom I gave credit for a certain amount of +knowledge, have you never heard of the method of Dr. Variot, by which +a human body can be preserved without embalming? Have you never read +the book of that practitioner?[11] He explains a method called +electro-plating. The skin is coated with a very thin layer of silver +salts, to make it a conductor. The body then is placed in a solution, +of copper sulphate, and the polar currents do their work. The body of +this estimable English major has been metalized in the same manner, +except that a solution of orichalch sulphate, a very rare substance, +has been substituted for that of copper sulphate. Thus, instead of the +statue of a poor slave, a copper statue, you have before you a statue +of metal more precious than silver or gold, in a word, a statue worthy +of the granddaughter of Neptune." + +[Footnote 11: Variot: _L'anthropologie galvanique_. Paris, 1890. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +M. Le Mesge waved his arm. The black slaves seized the body. In a few +seconds, they slid the orichalch ghost into its painted wooden sheath. +That was set on end and slid into its niche, beside the niche where an +exactly similar sheath was labelled "Number 52." + +Upon finishing their task, they retired without a word. A draught of +cold air from the door again made the flames of the copper torches +flicker and threw great shadows about us. + +Morhange and I remained as motionless as the pale metal specters which +surrounded us. Suddenly I pulled myself together and staggered forward +to the niche beside that in which they just had laid the remains of +the English major. I looked for the label. + +Supporting myself against the red marble wall, I read: + +"Number 52. Captain Laurent Deligne. Born at Paris, July 22, 1861. +Died at Ahaggar, October 30, 1896." + +"Captain Deligne!" murmured Morhange. "He left Colomb-Béchar in 1895 +for Timmimoun and no more has been heard of him since then." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge, with a little nod of approval. + +"Number 51," read Morhange with chattering teeth. "Colonel von +Wittman, born at Jena in 1855. Died at Ahaggar, May 1, 1896.... +Colonel Wittman, the explorer of Kanem, who disappeared off Agadès." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. + +"Number 50," I read in my turn, steadying myself against the wall, so +as not to fall. "Marquis Alonzo d'Oliveira, born at Cadiz, February +21, 1868. Died at Ahaggar, February 1, 1896. Oliveira, who was going +to Araouan." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. "That Spaniard was one of the best +educated. I used to have interesting discussions with him on the exact +geographical position of the kingdom of Antée." + +"Number 49," said Morhange in a tone scarcely more than a whisper. +"Lieutenant Woodhouse, born at Liverpool, September 16, 1870. Died at +Ahaggar, October 4, 1895." + +"Hardly more than a child," said M. Le Mesge. + +"Number 48," I said. "Lieutenant Louis de Maillefeu, born at Provins, +the...." + +I did not finish. My voice choked. + +Louis de Maillefeu, my best friend, the friend of my childhood and of +Saint-Cyr.... I looked at him and recognized him under the metallic +coating. Louis de Maillefeu! + +I laid my forehead against the cold wall and, with shaking shoulders, +began to sob. + +I heard the muffled voice of Morhange speaking to the Professor: + +"Sir, this has lasted long enough. Let us make an end of it." + +"He wanted to know," said M. Le Mesge. "What am I to do?" + +I went up to him and seized his shoulders. + +"What happened to him? What did he die of?" + +"Just like the others," the Professor replied, "just like Lieutenant +Woodhouse, like Captain Deligne, like Major Russell, like Colonel von +Wittman, like the forty-seven of yesterday and all those of +to-morrow." + +"Of what did they die?" Morhange demanded imperatively in his turn. + +The Professor looked at Morhange. I saw my comrade grow pale. + +"Of what did they die, sir? _They died of love_." + +And he added in a very low, very grave voice: + +"Now you know." + +Gently and with a tact which we should hardly have suspected in him, +M. Le Mesge drew us away from the statues. A moment later, Morhange +and I found ourselves again seated, or rather sunk among the cushions +in the center of the room. The invisible fountain murmured its plaint +at our feet. + +Le Mesge sat between us. + +"Now you know," he repeated. "You know, but you do not yet +understand." + +Then, very slowly, he said: + +"You are, as they have been, the prisoners of Antinea. And vengeance +is due Antinea." + +"Vengeance?" said Morhange, who had regained his self-possession. "For +what, I beg to ask? What have the lieutenant and I done to Atlantis? +How have we incurred her hatred?" + +"It is an old quarrel, a very old quarrel," the Professor replied +gravely. "A quarrel which long antedates you, M. Morhange." + +"Explain yourself, I beg of you, Professor." + +"You are Man. She is a Woman," said the dreamy voice of M. Le Mesge. +"The whole matter lies there." + +"Really, sir, I do not see ... we do not see." + +"You are going to understand. Have you really forgotten to what an +extent the beautiful queens of antiquity had just cause to complain of +the strangers whom fortune brought to their borders? The poet, Victor +Hugo, pictured their detestable acts well enough in his colonial poem +called _la Fille d'O-Taiti_. Wherever we look, we see similar examples +of fraud and ingratitude. These gentlemen made free use of the beauty +and the riches of the lady. Then, one fine morning, they disappeared. +She was indeed lucky if her lover, having observed the position +carefully, did not return with ships and troops of occupation." + +"Your learning charms me," said Morhange. "Continue." + +"Do you need examples? Alas! they abound. Think of the cavalier +fashion in which Ulysses treated Calypso, Diomedes Callirhoë. What +should I say of Theseus and Ariadne? Jason treated Medea with +inconceivable lightness. The Romans continued the tradition with still +greater brutality. Aenaeus, who has many characteristics in common +with the Reverend Spardek, treated Dido in a most undeserved fashion. +Caesar was a laurel-crowned blackguard in his relations with the +divine Cleopatra. Titus, that hypocrite Titus, after having lived a +whole year in Idummea at the expense of the plaintive Berenice, took +her back to Rome only to make game of her. It is time that the sons of +Japhet paid this formidable reckoning of injuries to the daughters of +Shem. + +"A woman has taken it upon herself to re-establish the great Hegelian +law of equilibrium for the benefit of her sex. Separated from the +Aryan world by the formidable precautions of Neptune, she draws the +youngest and bravest to her. Her body is condescending, while her +spirit is inexorable. She takes what these bold young men can give +her. She lends them her body, while her soul dominates them. She is +the first sovereign who has never been made the slave of passion, even +for a moment. She has never been obliged to regain her self-mastery, +for she never has lost it. She is the only woman who has been able to +disassociate those two inextricable things, love and voluptuousness." + +M. Le Mesge paused a moment and then went on. + +"Once every day, she comes to this vault. She stops before the niches; +she meditates before the rigid statues; she touches the cold bosoms, +so burning when she knew them. Then, after dreaming before the empty +niche where the next victim soon will sleep his eternal sleep in a +cold case of orichalch, she returns nonchalantly where he is waiting +for her." + +The Professor stopped speaking. The fountain again made itself heard +in the midst of the shadow. My pulses beat, my head seemed on fire. A +fever was consuming me. + +"And all of them," I cried, regardless of the place, "all of them +complied! They submitted! Well, she has only to come and she will see +what will happen." + +Morhange was silent. + +"My dear sir," said M. Le Mesge in a very gentle voice, "you are +speaking like a child. You do not know. You have not seen Antinea. Let +me tell you one thing: that among those"--and with a sweeping gesture +he indicated the silent circle of statues--"there were men as +courageous as you and perhaps less excitable. I remember one of them +especially well, a phlegmatic Englishman who now is resting under +Number 32. When he first appeared before Antinea, he was smoking a +cigar. And, like all the rest, he bent before the gaze of his +sovereign. + +"Do not speak until you have seen her. A university training hardly +fits one to discourse upon matters of passion, and I feel scarcely +qualified, myself, to tell you what Antinea is. I only affirm this, +that when you have seen her, you will remember nothing else. Family, +country, honor, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Everything?" asked Morhange in a calm voice. + +"Everything," Le Mesge insisted emphatically. "You will forget all, +you will renounce all." + +From outside, a faint sound came to us. + +Le Mesge consulted his watch. + +"In any case, you will see." + +The door opened. A tall white Targa, the tallest we had yet seen in +this remarkable abode, entered and came toward us. + +He bowed and touched me lightly on the shoulder. + +"Follow him," said M. Le Mesge. + +Without a word, I obeyed. + + + + +XI + +ANTINEA + + +My guide and I passed along another long corridor. My excitement +increased. I was impatient for one thing only, to come face to face +with that woman, to tell her.... So far as anything else was +concerned, I already was done for. + +I was mistaken in hoping that the adventure would take an heroic turn +at once. In real life, these contrasts never are definitely marked +out. I should have remembered from many past incidents that the +burlesque was regularly mixed with the tragic in my life. + +We reached a little transparent door. My guide stood aside to let me +pass. + +I found myself in the most luxurious of dressing-rooms. A ground glass +ceiling diffused a gay rosy light over the marble floor. The first +thing I noticed was a clock, fastened to the wall. In place of the +figures for the hours, were the signs of the Zodiac. The small hand +had not yet reached the sign of Capricorn. + +Only three o'clock! + +The day seemed to have lasted a century already.... And only a little +more than half of it was gone. + +Another idea came to me, and a convulsive laugh bent me double. + +"Antinea wants me to be at my best when I meet her." + +A mirror of orichalch formed one whole side of the room. Glancing into +it, I realized that in all decency there was nothing exaggerated in +the demand. + +My untrimmed beard, the frightful layer of dirt which lay about my +eyes and furrowed my cheeks, my clothing, spotted by all the clay of +the Sahara and torn by all the thorns of Ahaggar--all this made me +appear a pitiable enough suitor. + +I lost no time in undressing and plunging into the porphry bath in the +center of the room. A delicious drowsiness came over me in that +perfumed water. A thousand little jars, spread on a costly carved wood +dressing-table, danced before my eyes. They were of all sizes and +colors, carved in a very transparent kind of jade. The warm humidity +of the atmosphere hastened my relaxation. + +I still had strength to think, "The devil take Atlantis and the vault +and Le Mesge." + +Then I fell asleep in the bath. + +When I opened my eyes again, the little hand of the clock had almost +reached the sign of Taurus. Before me, his black hands braced on the +edge of the bath, stood a huge Negro, bare-faced and bare-armed, his +forehead bound with an immense orange turban. + +He looked at me and showed his white teeth in a silent laugh. + +"Who is this fellow?" + +The Negro laughed harder. Without saying a word, he lifted me like a +feather out of the perfumed water, now of a color on which I shall not +dwell. + +In no time at all, I was stretched out on an inclined marble table. + +The Negro began to massage me vigorously. + +"More gently there, fellow!" + +My masseur did not reply, but laughed and rubbed still harder. + +"Where do you come from? Kanem? Torkou? You laugh too much for a +Targa." + +Unbroken silence. The Negro was as speechless as he was hilarious. + +"After all, I am making a fool of myself," I said, giving up the case. +"Such as he is, he is more agreeable than Le Mesge with his +nightmarish erudition. But, on my word, what a recruit he would be for +Hamman on the rue des Mathurins!" + +"Cigarette, sidi?" + +Without awaiting my reply, he placed a cigarette between my lips and +lighted it, and resumed his task of polishing every inch of me. + +"He doesn't talk much, but he is obliging," I thought. + +And I sent a puff of smoke into his face. + +This pleasantry seemed to delight him immensely. He showed his +pleasure by giving me great slaps. + +When he had dressed me down sufficiently, he took a little jar from +the dressing-table and began to rub me with a rose-colored ointment. +Weariness seemed to fly away from my rejuvenated muscles. + +A stroke on a copper gong. My masseur disappeared. A stunted old +Negress entered, dressed in the most tawdry tinsel. She was talkative +as a magpie, but at first I did not understand a word in the +interminable string she unwound, while she took first my hands, then +my feet, and polished the nails with determined grimaces. + +Another stroke on the gong. The old woman gave place to another Negro, +grave, this time, and dressed all in white with a knitted skull cap on +his oblong head. It was the barber, and a remarkably dexterous one. He +quickly trimmed my hair, and, on my word, it was well done. Then, +without asking me what style I preferred, he shaved me clean. + +I looked with pleasure at my face, once more visible. + +"Antinea must like the American type," I thought. "What an affront to +the memory of her worthy grandfather, Neptune!" + +The gay Negro entered and placed a package on the divan. The barber +disappeared. I was somewhat astonished to observe that the package, +which my new valet opened carefully, contained a suit of white +flannels exactly like those French officers wear in Algeria in summer. + +The wide trousers seemed made to my measure. The tunic fitted without +a wrinkle, and my astonishment was unbounded at observing that it even +had two gilt _galons_, the insignia of my rank, braided on the cuffs. +For shoes, there were slippers of red Morocco leather, with gold +ornaments. The underwear, all of silk, seemed to have come straight +from the rue de la Paix. + +"Dinner was excellent," I murmured, looking at myself in the mirror +with satisfaction. "The apartment is perfectly arranged. Yes, but...." + +I could not repress a shudder when I suddenly recalled that room of +red marble. + +The clock struck half past four. + +Someone rapped gently on the door. The tall white Targa, who had +brought me, appeared in the doorway. + +He stepped forward, touched me on the arm and signed for me to follow. + +Again I followed him. + +We passed through interminable corridors. I was disturbed, but the +warm water had given me a certain feeling of detachment. And above +all, more than I wished to admit, I had a growing sense of lively +curiosity. If, at that moment, someone had offered to lead me back to +the route across the white plain near Shikh-Salah, would I have +accepted? Hardly. + +I tried to feel ashamed of my curiosity. I thought of Maillefeu. + +"He, too, followed this corridor. And now he is down there, in the red +marble hall." + +I had no time to linger over this reminiscence. I was suddenly bowled +over, thrown to the ground, as if by a sort of meteor. The corridor +was dark; I could see nothing. I heard only a mocking growl. + +The white Targa had flattened himself back against the wall. + +"Good," I mumbled, picking myself up, "the deviltries are beginning." + +We continued on our way. A glow different from that of the rose night +lights soon began to light up the corridor. + +We reached a high bronze door, in which a strange lacy design had +been cut in filigree. A clear gong sounded, and the double doors +opened part way. The Targa remained in the corridor, closing the doors +after me. + +I took a few steps forward mechanically, then paused, rooted to the +spot, and rubbed my eyes. + +I was dazzled by the sight of the sky. + +Several hours of shaded light had unaccustomed me to daylight. It +poured in through one whole side of the huge room. + +The room was in the lower part of this mountain, which was more +honeycombed with corridors and passages than an Egyptian pyramid. It +was on a level with the garden which I had seen in the morning from +the balcony, and seemed to be a continuation of it; the carpet +extended out under the great palm trees and the birds flew about the +forest of pillars in the room. + +By contrast, the half of the room untouched by direct light from the +oasis seemed dark. The sun, setting behind the mountain, painted the +garden paths with rose and flamed with red upon the traditional +flamingo which stood with one foot raised at the edge of the sapphire +lake. + +Suddenly I was bowled over a second time. + +I felt a warm, silky touch, a burning breath on my neck. Again the +mocking growl which had so disturbed me in the corridor. + +With a wrench, I pulled myself free and sent a chance blow at my +assailant. The cry, this time of pain and rage, broke out again. + +It was echoed by a long peal of laughter. Furious, I turned to look +for the insolent onlooker, thinking to speak my mind. And then my +glance stood still. + +Antinea was before me. + + +In the dimmest part of the room, under a kind of arch lit by the mauve +rays from a dozen incense-lamps, four women lay on a heap of +many-colored cushions and rare white Persian rugs. + +I recognized the first three as Tuareg women, of a splendid regular +beauty, dressed in magnificent robes of white silk embroidered in +gold. The fourth, very dark skinned, almost negroid, seemed younger. +A tunic of red silk enhanced the dusk of her face, her arms and her +bare feet. The four were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs, +covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one +elbow, lay Antinea. + +Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really +looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More +beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the +fault of the language or of those who abuse the word? + +One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom +Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter +of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom +Antony fled.... + + _O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras + C'est dans l'étreinte altière et chaude de ses bras_. + +An Egyptian _klaft_ fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two +points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The +golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round, +determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her +head. + +She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very +full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with +iris in black pearls. + +That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim +young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A +more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile, +such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom. + +I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at +it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most +extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable +moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than +to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty +young men who had held that slender body in their arms. + +She was still laughing at me. + +"King Hiram," she called. + +I turned and saw my enemy. + +On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a +splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I +had dealt him. + +"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here." + +The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's +feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles. + +"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said. + +The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle +puckered about his black moustache. + +"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat. + +"Go," Antinea ordered imperiously. + +The beast crawled reluctantly toward me. He laid his head humbly +between his paws and waited. + +I stroked his beautiful spotted forehead. + +"You must not be vexed," said Antinea. "He is always that way with +strangers." + +"Then he must often be in bad humor," I said simply. + +Those were my first words. They brought a smile to Antinea's lips. + +She gave me a long, quiet look. + +"Aguida," she said to one of the Targa women, "you will give +twenty-five pounds in gold to Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"You are a lieutenant?" she asked, after a pause. + +"Yes." + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From France." + +"I might have guessed that," she said ironically, "but from what part +of France?" + +"From what we call the Lot-et-Garonne." + +"From what town?" + +"From Duras." + +She reflected a moment. + +"Duras! There is a little river there, the Dropt, and a fine old +château." + +"You know Duras?" I murmured, amazed. + +"You go there from Bordeaux by a little branch railway," she went +on. "It is a shut-in road, with vine-covered hills crowned by +the feudal ruins. The villages have beautiful names: Monségur, +Sauve-terre-de-Guyenne, la Tresne, Créon, ... Créon, as in Antigone." + +"You have been there?" + +She looked at me. + +"Don't speak so coldly," she said. "Sooner or later we will be +intimate, and you may as well lay aside formality now." + +This threatening promise suddenly filled me with great happiness. I +thought of Le Mesge's words: "Don't talk until you have seen her. When +you have seen her, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Have I been in Duras?" she went on with a burst of laughter. "You are +joking. Imagine Neptune's granddaughter in the first-class compartment +of a local train!" + +She pointed to an enormous white rock which towered above the palm +trees of the garden. + +"That is my horizon," she said gravely. + +She picked up one of several books which lay scattered about her on +the lion's skin. + +"The time table of the _Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest_," she said. +"Admirable reading for one who never budges! Here it is half-past five +in the afternoon. A train, a local, arrived three minutes ago at +Surgères in the Charente-Inférieure. It will start on in six minutes. +In two hours it will reach La Rochelle. How strange it seems to think +of such things here. So far away! So much commotion there! Here, +nothing changes." + +"You speak French well," I said. + +She gave a little nervous laugh. + +"I have to. And German, too, and Italian, and English and Spanish. My +way of living has made me a great polygot. But I prefer French, even +to Tuareg and Arabian. It seems as if I had always known it. And I am +not saying that to please you." + +There was a pause. I thought of her grandmother, of whom Plutarch +said: "There were few races with which she needed an interpreter. +Cleopatra spoke their own language to the Ethiopians, to the +Troglodytes, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Medes and the Persians." + +"Do not stand rooted in the middle of the room. You worry me. Come +sit here, beside me. Move over, King Hiram." + +The leopard obeyed with good temper. + +Beside her was an onyx bowl. She took from it a perfectly plain ring +of orichalch and slipped it on my left ring-finger. I saw that she +wore one like it. + +"Tanit-Zerga, give Monsieur de Saint-Avit a rose sherbet." + +The dark girl in red silk obeyed. + +"My private secretary," said Antinea, introducing her. "Mademoiselle +Tanit-Zerga, of Gâo, on the Niger. Her family is almost as ancient as +mine." + +As she spoke, she looked at me. Her green eyes seemed to be appraising +me. + +"And your comrade, the Captain?" she asked in a dreamy tone. "I have +not yet seen him. What is he like? Does he resemble you?" + +For the first time since I had entered, I thought of Morhange. I did +not answer. + +Antinea smiled. + +She stretched herself out full length on the lion skin. Her bare right +knee slipped out from under her tunic. + +"It is time to go find him," she said languidly. "You will soon +receive my orders. Tanit-Zerga, show him the way. First take him to +his room. He cannot have seen it." + +I rose and lifted her hand to my lips. She struck me with it so +sharply as to make my lips bleed, as if to brand me as her possession. + + * * * * * + +I was in the dark corridor again. The young girl in the red silk tunic +walked ahead of me. + +"Here is your room," she said. "If you wish, I will take you to the +dining-room. The others are about to meet there for dinner." + +She spoke an adorable lisping French. + +"No, Tanit-Zerga, I would rather stay here this evening. I am not +hungry. I am tired." + +"You remember my name?" she said. + +She seemed proud of it. I felt that in her I had an ally in case of +need. + +"I remember your name, Tanit-Zerga, because it is beautiful."[12] + +[Footnote 12: In Berber, Tanit means a spring; zerga is the feminine of +the adjective azreg, blue. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +Then I added: + +"Now, leave me, little one. I want to be alone." + +It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same +time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself. + +"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the +table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white +Targa will answer." + +For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the +midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service. + +I looked about my room. My room! For how long? + +It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock, +all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade. + +I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting +sun entered. + +I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my +heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the +ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me. + +In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the +first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the +distance, I saw the limitless red desert. + + + + +XII + +MORHANGE DISAPPEARS + + +My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next +day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon. + +I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed +amazing. + +"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by +consulting Morhange." + +I was ravenously hungry. + +The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I +struck it. A white Targa appeared. + +"Show me the way to the library," I ordered. + +He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and +corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his +help. + +Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript. + +"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger +were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters." + +I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the +table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like +that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she +herself wore. + +Morhange smiled. + +"Well?" I said. + +"Well?" + +"You have seen her?" + +"I have indeed," Morhange replied. + +"She is beautiful, is she not?" + +"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even +believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is +beautiful." + +There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring. + +"You know what our fate is to be?" + +"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological +terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure." + +He was silent, then said, looking at me: + +"I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature +is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very +easily." + +Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did +not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged +correctly. + +"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured. + +He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair +and lit a cigar. + +"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I +have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no +discussion. + +"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my +semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather +doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but, +even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my +having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no +taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us. + +"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the +right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his +own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish, +results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular +ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give +satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance +of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire: +such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps +even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under +similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so +doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The +end justified the means. + +"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd caprices +of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the +red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take +you first. Under those conditions...." + +"Under those conditions?" + +"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to +acquiesce." + +"Then what do you intend to do?" + +"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and +smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling. + +"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this +superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse +advances." + +Then he added with an ironical smile: + +"A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to." + +I nodded. + +"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was +breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le +Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she +replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But + + _Maudit soit à jamais rêveur inutile, + Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidité, + S'éprenant d'un problème insoluble et stérile, + Aux choses de l'amour mêler l'honnêteté._ + +"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers, +'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There +followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to +reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from +Baudelaire. + +"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman +whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in +order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek +knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant +with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew +me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid things as you know +of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of +different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in +the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this +is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend +is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman +indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer +than that master of sensualism." + +"Gentlemen," said Le Mesge, suddenly entering the room, "why are you +so late? They are waiting dinner for you." + +The little Professor was in a particularly good humor that evening. He +wore a new violet rosette. + +"Well?" he said, in a mocking tone, "you have seen her?" + +Neither Morhange nor I replied. + +The Reverend Spardek and the Hetmari of Jitomir already had begun +eating when we arrived. The setting sun threw raspberry lights on the +cream-colored mat. + +"Be seated, gentlemen," said Le Mesge noisily. "Lieutenant de +Saint-Avit, you were not with us last evening. You are about to taste +the cooking of Koukou, our Bambara chef, for the first time. You must +give me your opinion of it." + +A Negro waiter set before me a superb fish covered with a pimento +sauce as red as tomatoes. + +I have explained that I was ravenously hungry. The dish was exquisite. +The sauce immediately made me thirsty. + +"White Ahaggar, 1879," the Herman of Jitomir breathed in my ear as he +filled my goblet with a clear topaz liquid. "I developed it myself: +_rien pour la tête, tout pour les jambes_." + +I emptied the goblet at a gulp. The company began to seem charming. + +"Well, Captain Morhange," Le Mesge called out to my comrade who had +taken a mouthful of fish, "what do you say to this acanthopterygian? +It was caught to-day in the lake in the oasis. Do you begin to admit +the hypothesis of the Saharan sea?" + +"The fish is an argument," my companion replied. + +Suddenly he became silent. The door had opened. A white Targa entered. +The diners stopped talking. + +The veiled man walked slowly toward Morhange and touched his right +arm. + +"Very well," said Morhange. + +He got up and followed the messenger. + +The pitcher of Ahaggar, 1879, stood between me and Count Bielowsky. I +filled my goblet--a goblet which held a pint, and gulped it down. + +The Hetman looked at me sympathetically. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge, nudging me with his elbow. "Antinea has +respect for the hierarchic order." + +The Reverend Spardek smiled modestly. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge again. + +My glass was empty. For a moment I was tempted to hurl it at the head +of the Fellow in History. But what of it? I filled it and emptied it +again. + +"Morhange will miss this delicious roast of mutton," said the +Professor, more and more hilarious, as he awarded himself a thick +slice of meat. + +"He won't regret it," said the Hetman crossly. "This is not roast; it +is ram's horn. Really Koukou is beginning to make fun of us." + +"Blame it on the Reverend," the shrill voice of Le Mesge cut in. "I +have told him often enough to hunt other proselytes and leave our cook +alone." + +"Professor," Spardek began with dignity. + +"I maintain my contention," cried Le Mesge, who seemed to me to be +getting a bit overloaded. "I call the gentleman to witness," he went +on, turning to me. "He has just come. He is unbiased. Therefore I ask +him: has one the right to spoil a Bambara cook by addling his head +with theological discussions for which he has no predisposition?" + +"Alas!" the pastor replied sadly. "You are mistaken. He has only too +strong a propensity to controversy." + +"Koukou is a good-for-nothing who uses Colas' cow as an excuse for +doing nothing and letting our scallops burn," declared the Hetman. +"Long live the Pope!" he cried, filling the glasses all around. + +"I assure you that this Bambara worries me," Spardek went on with +great dignity. "Do you know what he has come to? He denies +transubstantiation. He is within an inch of the heresy of Zwingli and +Oecolampades. Koukou denies transubstantiation." + +"Sir," said Le Mesge, very much excited, "cooks should be left in +peace. Jesus, whom I consider as good a theologian as you, understood +that, and it never occurred to him to call Martha away from her oven +to talk nonsense to her." + +"Exactly so," said the Hetman approvingly. + +He was holding a jar between his knees and trying to draw its cork. + +"Oh, Côtes Rôties, wines from the Côte-Rôtie!" he murmured to me as he +finally succeeded. "Touch glasses." + +"Koukou denies transubstantiation," the pastor continued, sadly +emptying his glass. + +"Eh!" said the Hetman of Jitomir in my ear, "let them talk on. Don't +you see that they are quite drunk?" + +His own voice was thick. He had the greatest difficulty in the world +in filling my goblet to the brim. + +I wanted to push the pitcher away. Then an idea came to me: + +"At this very moment, Morhange.... Whatever he may say.... She is so +beautiful." + +I reached out for the glass and emptied it once more. + +Le Mesge and the pastor were now engaged in the most extraordinary +religious controversy, throwing at each other's heads the Book of +Common Prayer, The Declaration of the Rights of Man, and the +Unigenitus. Little by little, the Hetman began to show that ascendancy +over them, which is the characteristic of a man of the world even when +he is thoroughly drunk; the superiority of education over instruction. + +Count Bielowsky had drunk five times as much as the Professor or the +pastor. But he carried his wine ten times better. + +"Let us leave these drunken fellows," he said with disgust. "Come on, +old man. Our partners are waiting in the gaming room." + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said the Hetman as we entered. "Permit me to +present a new player to you, my friend, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +"Let it go at that," he murmured in my ear. "They are the servants. +But I like to fool myself, you see." + +I saw that he was very drunk indeed. + +The gaming room was very long and narrow. A huge table, almost level +with the floor and surrounded with cushions on which a dozen natives +were lying, was the chief article of furniture. Two engravings on the +wall gave evidence of the happiest broadmindedness in taste; one of da +Vinci's St. John the Baptist, and the _Maison des Dernières +Cartouches_ of Alphonse de Neuville. + +On the table were earthenware goblets. A heavy jar held palm liqueur. + +I recognized acquaintances among those present; my masseur, the +manicure, the barber, and two or three Tuareg who had lowered their +veils and were gravely smoking long pipes. While waiting for something +better, all were plunged in the delights of a card game that looked +like "rams." Two of Antinea's beautiful ladies in waiting, Aguida and +Sydya, were among the number. Their smooth bistre skins gleamed +beneath veils shot with silver. I was sorry not to see the red silk +tunic of Tanit-Zerga. Again, I thought of Morhange, but only for an +instant. + +"The chips, Koukou," demanded the Hetman, "We are not here to amuse +ourselves." + +The Zwinglian cook placed a box of many-colored chips in front of him. +Count Bielowsky set about counting them and arranging them in little +piles with infinite care. + +"The white are worth a _louis_," he explained to me. "The red, a +hundred francs. The yellow, five hundred. The green, a thousand. Oh, +it's the devil of a game that we play here. You will see." + +"I open with ten thousand," said the Zwinglian cook. + +"Twelve thousand," said the Hetman. + +"Thirteen," said Sydya with a slow smile, as she seated herself on the +count's knee and began to arrange her chips lovingly in little piles. + +"Fourteen," I said. + +"Fifteen," said the sharp voice of Rosita, the old manicure. + +"Seventeen," proclaimed the Hetman. + +"Twenty thousand," the cook broke in. + +He hammered on the table and, casting a defiant look at us, repeated: + +"I take it at twenty thousand." + +The Hetman made an impatient gesture. + +"That devil, Koukou! You can't do anything against the beast. You will +have to play carefully, Lieutenant." + +Koukou had taken his place at the end of the table. He threw down the +cards with an air which abashed me. + +"I told you so; the way it was at Anna Deslions'," the Hetman murmured +proudly. + +"Make your bets, gentlemen," yelped the Negro. "Make your bets." + +"Wait, you beast," called Bielowsky. "Don't you see that the glasses +are empty? Here, Cacambo." + +The goblets were filled immediately by the jolly masseur. + +"Cut," said Koukou, addressing Sydya, the beautiful Targa who sat at +his right. + +The girl cut, like one who knows superstitions, with her left hand. +But it must be said that her right was busy lifting a cup to her lips. +I watched the curve of her beautiful throat. + +"My deal," said Koukou. + +We were thus arranged: at the left, the Hetman, Aguida, whose waist he +had encircled with the most aristocratic freedom, Cacambo, a Tuareg +woman, then two veiled Negroes who were watching the game intently. At +the right, Sydya, myself, the old manicure, Rosita, Barouf, the +barber, another woman and two white Tuareg, grave and attentive, +exactly opposite those on the left. + +"Give me one," said the Hetman. + +Sydya made a negative gesture. + +Koukou drew, passed a four-spot to the Hetman, gave himself a five. + +"Eight," announced Bielowsky. + +"Six," said pretty Sydya. + +"Seven," broke in Koukou. "One card makes up for another," he added +coldly. + +"I double," said the Hetman. + +Cacambo and Aguida followed his example. On our side, we were more +careful. The manicure especially would not risk more than twenty +francs at a time. + +"I demand that the cards be evened up," said Koukou imperturbably. + +"This fellow is unbearable," grumbled the count. "There, are you +satisfied?" + +Koukou dealt and laid down a nine. + +"My country and my honor!" raged Bielowsky. "I had an eight." + +I had two kings, and so showed no ill temper. Rosita took the cards +out of my hands. + +I watched Sydya at my right. Her heavy black hair covered her +shoulders. She was really very beautiful, though a bit tipsy, as were +all that fantastic company. She looked at me, too, but with lowered +eyelids, like a timid little wild animal. + +"Oh," I thought. "She may well be afraid. I am labelled 'No +trespassing.'" + +I touched her foot. She drew it back in fright. + +"Who wants cards?" Koukou demanded. + +"Not I," said the Hetman. + +"Served," said Sydya. + +The cook drew a four. + +"Nine," he said. + +"That card was meant for me," cursed the count. "And five, I had a +five. If only I had never promised his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon II +never to cut fives! There are times when it is hard, very hard. And +look at that beast of a Negro who plays Charlemagne." + +It was true. Koukou swept in three-quarters of the chips, rose with +dignity, and bowed to the company. + +"Till to-morrow, gentlemen." + +"Get along, the whole pack of you," howled the Hetman of Jitomir. +"Stay with me, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +When we were alone, he poured out another huge cupfull of liqueur. The +ceiling of the room was lost in the gray smoke. + +"What time is it?" I asked. + +"After midnight. But you are not going to leave me like this, my dear +boy? I am heavy-hearted." + +He wept bitterly. The tail of his coat spread out on the divan behind +him like the apple-green wings of a beetle. + +"Isn't Aguida a beauty?" he went on, still weeping. "She makes me +think of the Countess de Teruel, though she is a little darker. You +know the Countess de Teruel, Mercedes, who went in bathing nude at +Biarritz, in front of the rock of the Virgin, one day when Prince +Bismarck was standing on the foot-bridge. You do not remember her? +Mercedes de Teruel." + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"I forget; you must have been too young. Two, perhaps three years old. +A child. Yes, a child. Oh, my child, to have been of that generation +and to be reduced to playing cards with savages ... I must tell +you...." + +I stood up and pushed him off. + +"Stay, stay," he implored. "I will tell you everything you want to +know, how I came here, things I have never told anyone. Stay, I must +unbosom myself to a true friend. I will tell you everything, I repeat. +I trust you. You are a Frenchman, a gentleman. I know that you will +repeat nothing to her." + +"That I will repeat nothing to her?... To whom?" + +His voice stuck in his throat. I thought I saw a shudder of fear pass +over him. + +"To her ... to Antinea," he murmured. + +I sat down again. + + + + +XIII + +THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY + + +Count Casimir had reached that stage where drunkenness takes on a kind +of gravity, of regretfulness. + +He thought a little, then began his story. I regret that I cannot +reproduce more perfectly its archaic flavor. + +"When the grapes begin to color in Antinea's garden, I shall be +sixty-eight. It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your wild +oats. It isn't true that life is always beginning over again. How +bitter, to have known the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the +point where I am now! + +"One evening, just before the war (I remember that Victor Black was +still living), some charming women whose names I need not disclose (I +read the names of their sons from time to time in the society news of +the _Gaulois_) expressed to me their desire to rub elbows with some +real _demi-mondaines_ of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at +the _Grande Chaumière_. There was a crowd of young painters, models, +students. In the midst of the uproar, several couples danced the +_cancan_ till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed especially a +little, dark man, dressed in a miserable top-coat and checked trousers +which assuredly knew the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed, +with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be. He bounded and +kicked extravagantly. The ladies called him Léon Gambetta. + +"What an annoyance, when I realize that I need only have felled this +wretched lawyer with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect +happiness to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow, I +am French at heart, if not by birth. + +"I was born in 1829, at Warsaw, of a Polish father and a Russian +mother. It is from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir. It +was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request made to him on +his visit to Paris, by my august master, the Emperor Napoleon III. + +"For political reasons, which I cannot describe without retelling the +history of unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left Warsaw +in 1830, and went to live in London. After the death of my mother, he +began to squander his immense fortune--from sorrow, he said. When, in +his time, he died at the period of the Prichard affair, he left me +barely a thousand pounds sterling of income, plus two or three systems +of gaming, the impracticability of which I learned later. + +"I will never be able to think of my nineteenth and twentieth years +without emotion, for I then completely liquidated this small +inheritance. London was indeed an adorable spot in those days. I had a +jolly bachelor's apartment in Piccadilly. + + "'Picadilly! Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze, + The whirling of wheels and the murmur of trees.' + +"Fox hunting in a _briska_, driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, +not to mention the delightful little parties with the light Venuses of +Drury Lane, this took all my time. All? I am unjust. There was also +gaming, and a sentiment of filial piety forced me to verify the +systems of the late Count, my father. It was gaming which was the +cause of the event I must describe to you, by which my life was to be +so strangely changed. + +"My friend, Lord Malmesbury, had said to me a hundred times, 'I must +take you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford Street, +number 277, Miss Howard.' One evening I went with him. It was the +twenty-second of February, 1848. The mistress of the house was really +marvelously beautiful, and the guests were charming. Besides +Malmesbury, I observed several acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord +Chesterfield, Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards, +and Count d'Orsay. They played cards and then began to talk politics. +Events in France played the main part in the conversation and they +discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt that had broken out +in Paris that same morning, in consequence of the interdiction of the +banquet in the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been +received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never bothered myself +with public affairs. So I don't know what moved me to affirm with the +impetuosity of my nineteen years that the news from France meant the +Republic next day and the Empire the day after.... + +"The company received my sally with a discreet laugh, and their looks +were centered on a guest who made the fifth at a _bouillotte_ table +where they had just stopped playing. + +"The guest smiled, too. He rose and came towards me. I observed that +he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned tightly into a +blue frock coat, and that his eye had a far-off, dreamy look. + +"All the players watched this scene with delighted amusement. + +"'Whom have I the honor of addressing?' he asked in a very gentle +voice. + +"'Count Bielowsky,' I answered coolly to show him that the difference +in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation. + +"Well, my dear Count, may your prediction indeed be realized; and I +hope that you will not neglect the Tuileries,' said the guest in the +blue coat, with a smile. + +"And he added, finally consenting to present himself: + +"'Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.' + +"I played no active rôle in the _coup d'état_, and I do not regret it. +It is a principle with me that a stranger should not meddle with the +internal affairs of a country. The prince understood this discretion, +and did not forget the young man who had been of such good omen to +him. + +"I was one of the first whom he called to the Elysée. My fortune was +definitely established by a defamatory note on 'Napoleon the little.' +The next year, when Mgr. Sibour was out of the way, I was made +Gentleman of the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to have +me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto, Duke of Mondovi. + +"I have no scruple in announcing that this union was not what it +should have been. The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was +crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover, her family had insisted +resolutely on a marriage portion. Now I had nothing at this time +except the twenty-five thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman +of the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate terms with the Count +d'Orsay and the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of +the Emperor, where would I have been? + +"One morning in the spring of 1852, I was in my study opening my mail. +There was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries at +four o'clock; a letter from Clémentine, informing me that she expected +me at five o'clock at her house. Clémentine was the beautiful one for +whom, just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I was so proud of +her that, one evening at the _Maison Dorée_, I flaunted her before +Prince Metternich, who was tremendously taken with her. All the court +envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged to continue to +assume its expenses. And then Clémentine was so pretty! The Emperor +himself.... The other letters, good lord, the other letters were the +bills of the dressmakers of that young person, who, in spite of my +discreet remonstrances, insisted on having them sent to my conjugal +dwelling. + +"There were bills for something over forty thousand francs: gowns and +ball dresses from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and +bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d'Antin; lingerie and many +petticoats from Madame Pauline, 100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and +gloves from the _Ville de Lyon_, 6 Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin; +foulards from the _Malle des Indes_; handkerchiefs from the _Compagnie +Irlandaise_; laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from _Candès_.... This +whitening cream of _Candès_, in particular, overwhelmed me with +stupefaction. The bill showed fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and +twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes' worth of whitening cream from +_Candès_.... Enough to soften the skin of a squadron of a hundred +guards! + +"'This can't keep on,' I said, putting the bills in my pocket. + +"At ten minutes to four, I crossed the wicket by the Carrousel. + +"In the Salon of the _aides de camp_ I happened on Bacciochi. + +"'The Emperor has the grippe,' he said to me. 'He is keeping to his +room. He has given orders to have you admitted as soon as you arrive. +Come.' + +"His Majesty, dressed in a braided vest and Cossack trousers, was +meditating before a window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed +luminously under a gentle warm shower. + +"'Ah! Here he is,' said Napoleon. 'Here, have a cigarette. It seems +that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse, last evening, +at the _Château de Fleurs_.' + +"I smiled with satisfaction. + +"'So Your Majesty knows already....' + +"'I know, I know vaguely.' + +"'Do you know Gramont-Caderousse's last "mot"?' + +"'No, but you are going to tell it to me.' + +"'Here goes, then. We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont, +Persigny....' + +"'Persigny!' said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with +Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife.' + +"'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He +began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's +conduct.' + +"'This Fialin isn't over tactful,' muttered the Emperor. + +"'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at +him?' + +"'What?' + +"'He said to him, "_Monsieur le Duc_, I forbid you to speak ill of my +mistress before me." + +"'Gramont goes too far,' said Napoleon with a dreamy smile. + +"'That is what we all thought, including Viel-Castel, who was +nevertheless delighted.' + +"'Apropos of this,' said Napoleon after a silence, 'I have forgotten +to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.' + +"'She is very well, Sire, I thank Your Majesty,' + +"'And Clémentine? Still the same dear child?' + +"'Always, Sire. But....' + +"'It seems that M. Baroche is madly in love with her.' + +"'I am very much honored, Sire. But this honor becomes too +burdensome.' + +"I had drawn from my pocket that morning's bills and I spread them out +under the eyes of the Emperor. + +"He looked at them with his distant smile. + +"'Come, come. If that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to +ask of you.' + +"'I am entirely at Your Majesty's service.' + +"He struck a gong. + +"'Send for M. Mocquard.' + +"'I have the grippe,' he said. 'Mocquard will explain the affair to +you.' + +"The Emperor's private secretary entered. + +"'Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,' said Napoleon. 'You know what I want +him to do. Explain it to him.' + +"And he began to tap on the window-panes against which the rain was +beating furiously. + +"'My dear Count,' said Mocquard, taking a chair, 'it is very simple. +You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise, M. Henry +Duveyrier.' + +"I shook my head as a sign of negation, very much surprised at this +beginning. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'has returned to Paris after a +particularly daring trip to South Africa and the Sahara. M. Vivien de +Saint Martin, whom I have seen recently has assured me that the +Geographical Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon him, +in recognition of these exploits. In the course of his trip, M. +Duveyrier has entered into negotiations with the chief of the people +who always have been so rebellious to His Majesty's armies, the +Tuareg.' + +"I looked at the Emperor. My bewilderment was such that he began to +laugh. + +"'Listen,' he said. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a +delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to +His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His +Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the +signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our +fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, +_Amenokol_ or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow +morning at the _Gare de Lyon_. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the +Emperor has thought that besides....' + +"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I +thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my +Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is +why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, +laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged +only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these +princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; +then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious +scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian +civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not forget that in the +Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I +have confidence in your tact and give you _carte blanche_.... +Mocquard!' + +"'Sire?' + +"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to +the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of +the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, +to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed +that figure.' + +"Clémentine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion +that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When +she saw me, she burst into tears. + +"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have +we done!' + +"'Clémentine, tell me!' + +"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt +against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was +fragrant with _eau de Nanon_. + +"'What is it? What can it be?' + +"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear. + +"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?' + +"'Am I quite sure!' + +"I was thunderstruck. + +"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply. + +"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I +assure you.' + +"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.' + +"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!' + +"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously. + +"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. +The Emperor's orders.' + +"'What bluff is this?' asked Clémentine. + +"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.' + +"I retold Mocquard's story to Clémentine, as well as I could. She +listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that +way.' + +"Finally, furious, I burst out: + +"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I +invite you.' + +"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clémentine with great +dignity. + +"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a +day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. +The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. +And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular +paternity.... + +"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the +Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of +Parisian civilization. Clémentine comports herself very well in +society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a +room for to-morrow at the _Café de Paris_, and tell Gramont-Caderousse +and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very +French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the +midst of this little party.' + +"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found +M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little +blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the +train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil +knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four +others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their +amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of +_sabir_[13] which helped things along. + +[Footnote 13: Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant--a mixture of +Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.] + +"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in +the evening to the Museum, to the _Hotel de Ville_, to the Imperial +Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the +registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give +you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: +Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- +ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.[14] + +[Footnote 14: I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the +Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who +accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count +Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"And there were five of them like that! + +"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, +everywhere, our success was colossal. At the _Café de Paris_, at +six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, +embraced me: '_Bono, Napoléon, bono, Eugénie; bono, Casimir; bono, +Christians_.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth +number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the _Folies Dramatiques_, and +Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the +heart. But the palm was for my dear Clémentine, when she entered. I +must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China +blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the +pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of +green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence +which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. +The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between +their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed +bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged +with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a +diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined +in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of +blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin. + +"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, +especially, Clémentine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemâma, +brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup +arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already +much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique _à la +liqueur de Mme. Amphoux_, he showed every indication of illimitable +passion. The Cyprian wine _de la Commanderie_ made him quite sure of +his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, +intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the +indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when +the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner +in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet +in respect to wine. + +"At Mabille, while Clémentine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three +Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took +me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain +commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik +Ahmed. + +"The next day, very early, I reached Clémentine's house. + +"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, +'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.' + +"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly. + +"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with +you last night?' + +"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing. + +"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and +reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our +august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?' + +"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming +interested. + +"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august +sovereign, the Empress Eugénie?' + +"Clémentine, looked startled. + +"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make +this offer.' + +"Clémentine, dumb with amazement, did not reply. + +"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered. + +"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before +midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain +is made.' + +"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well +to display a little sentiment. + +"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!' + +"'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps +that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to +pay for your complexion cream!' + +"'Ah!' she sighed. + +"She added, however, 'And ... the child?' + +"'What child?' + +"'Our child ... our child.' + +"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and +loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles +him.' + +"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and +crying. + + +"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried +away the five Tuareg and Clémentine. The young woman, radiant, was +leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy. + +"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly. + +"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied: + +"'_Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono_.' + +"At the last moment, Clémentine had a pang of emotion. + +"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a +queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....' + +"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped +it onto mine. + +"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come--find us. Take Sidi +Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. _Bono_ +Ahaggar, _bono_.' + +"When I came out of the _Gare de Lyon_, I had the feeling of having +perpetrated an excellent joke." + +The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost +difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he +interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's +best score. + + _Dans un bois passait un jeune homme, + Un jeune homme frais et beau, + Sa main tenait une pomme, + Vous voyez d'ici le tableau_. + +"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, +poor old Casimir! Five thousand _louis_ to pay by the fifth of +September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat +and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But +the Empress was so kind. I found her alone--ah, people scatter quickly +under such circumstances!--alone, with a senator, M. Mérimée, the only +literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the +world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. +Thiers, whom I just met on the _Pont Royal_, would listen to nothing.' + +"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her +true friends are.' + +"And I kissed her hand. + + "_Evohé, que les déesses + Out de drôles de façons + Pour enjôler, pour enjôler, pour enjôler les gaâarçons_! + +"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered +the rabble going from the _Corps Législatif_ to the Hotel de Ville. My +mind was made up. + +"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.' + +"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened. + +"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am +going to be killed on the barricades.' + +"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged +you. Will you forgive me?' + +"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not +always been right myself.' + +"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the +Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career. + +"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the _Gare +de Lyon_ in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'" + +The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the +cushions and slept with clenched fists. + +I walked unsteadily to the great window. + +The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains. + + + + +XIV + +HOURS OF WAITING + + +It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his +enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and +chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic +outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that +way--I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! +Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by +recalling such memories. + +One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that +Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By +the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black +desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! +the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those +letters, I said to him in a trembling voice: + +"Go on." + +He acquiesced without further words. + +"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when +the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I +found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that +the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter +into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for +the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from +Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this +delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation. + +"Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not +think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't +you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not +trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward +to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to +enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have +given--unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague +uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to +know that he was well and safe. + +"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of +Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women +were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and +Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not +endure _kouskous_ of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of +information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With +Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste +for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. +Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a +doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I +pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange. + +"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister +puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of +Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence +remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had +invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors +that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick +voice a couplet from the music of _La Reine Hortense_. + +_De ma fille Isabelle +Sois l'époux à l'instant, +Car elle est la plus belle +Et toi, le plus vaillant_. + +"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old +skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid +printer of labels for the red marble hall,--how could I meet him +without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very +curious case of apocope: [Greek: Atlantinea]. Suppression of _alpha_, +of _tau_ and of _lambda_! I would like to direct your attention to +another case as curious: [Greek: klêmêntinea], Clémentine. Apocope of +_kappa_, of _lamba_, of _epsilon_ and of _mu_. If Morhange were with +us, he would tell you many charming erudite things about it. But, +alas! Morhange does not deign to come among us any more. We never see +Morhange.' + +"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from +Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished +so often as during those days of waiting! Now--after six years--she +must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was +very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against +those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through +politeness. + +"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey +by the merchants of Rhât, she was born in Constantinople and had been +brought into Africa by her master when he became _kaïmakam_ of +Rhadamès.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering +history by the incantations of this manicure. + +"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of +El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemâma, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great +and noble tribe of Kel-Rhelâ. She was born in the year twelve hundred +and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. +Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this +Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, +and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to +Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have +lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she +prefers to have them come to her.' + +"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely +devoted to her?' + +"'Nobody here knows Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is +continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to +Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin +of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, he owes his life to her. He is +one of the men who assassinated the great Kébir Flatters. On account +of that, Ikenoukhen, _amenokol_ of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French +reprisals, wanted to deliver Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the +whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes +the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then +twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of +occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red +marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.' + +"'And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties +successfully?' + +"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as +I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made +mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le +Mesge and marabout Spardek.' + +"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?' + +"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has +never made a mistake.' + +"'He has never made a mistake?' + +"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought +here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom +they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the +handsomest of all.' + +"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them +their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?' + +"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, +whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would +soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would +massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has +brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing +Antinea.' + +"'She keeps them a long time?' + +"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two +months, three months, on the average. It depends. A big Belgian +officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other +hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English +officer: she kept him almost a year.' + +"'And then?' + +"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my +question. + +"'Of what did he die?' + +"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge: + +"'Like all the others: of love. + +"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that +their time is ended, and that Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find +others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They +neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All +night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed +through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: +he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of +_kif_, a _kif_ that is more violent than opium. When they no longer +have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the +happiest. Little Kaine died differently.' + +"'How did little Kaine die?' + +"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed +longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In +Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, +there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very +heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his +dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, +mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A +Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the +Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the +time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding +guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. +The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest +difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only +to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble +hall.' + +"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass. + +"'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for +this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written +something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.' + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window +through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have +killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought +was in my heart. + +"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when +Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does +she not? Nobody sees him any more?' + +The old woman shook her head. + +"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. +Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to +her immediately.' + +"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....' + +"The Negress smiled comprehendingly. + +"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near +her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.' + +"I struck my fist violently upon the table. + +"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!' + +"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little +instruments. + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my +way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed +open the door of the red marble hall. I entered. + +"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be so +sinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of running +water. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One day +before an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waiting +for the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that we +leap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. I +listened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shade +in the transparent water, the little beasts, the little black fish, +the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of water +always has carried me out of myself. + +"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the dark +cascade. It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst of +these rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26. +It was he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh, +September 21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight. +He wasn't even twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat of +orichalch. His mouth sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Poor +youngster.--Edinburgh,--I knew Edinburgh, without ever having been +there. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills. +"Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anne +of Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the fold +of the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises from +among them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live with +my aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When he +left for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh a +Miss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slips +of girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, however +made for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And here +was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of +the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also. + +"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble +hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! +Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be +multiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless as +beautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witness +that I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession, +this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for the +sake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant, +to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremble +before them? + +"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. In +six months, eight, perhaps,--what difference anyway?--I shall be +hoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, a +finished body. + +"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. What +a child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I was +jealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, be +jealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, who +will come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still empty +niches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it is +to me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening, +in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54 +will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. I +shall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will be +my turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love. + +"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in the +library, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the people +who were assembled there. + +"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuareg +slaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference. + +"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so many +people who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other. + +"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountain +into uproar. + +"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to the +West, in Adhar Ahnet. + +"As soon as Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go to +meet them. + +"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing. + +"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt. + +"For the first time, Antinea was in love." + + + + +XV + +THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA + + +"_Arraôu, arraôu_." + +I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep to which I had finally +succumbed. I half opened my eyes. Immediately I flattened back. + +"_Arraôu_." + +Two feet from my face was the muzzle of King Hiram, yellow with a +tracery of black. The leopard was helping me to wake up; otherwise he +took little interest, for he yawned; his dark red jaws, beautiful +gleaming white fangs, opened and closed lazily. + +At the same moment I heard a burst of laughter. + +It was little Tanit-Zerga. She was crouching on a cushion near the +divan where I was stretched out, curiously watching my close interview +with the leopard. + +"King Hiram was bored," she felt obliged to explain to me. "I brought +him." + +"How nice," I growled. "Only tell me, could he not have gone somewhere +else to be amused?" + +"He is all alone now," said the girl. "_They_ have sent him away. He +made too much noise when he played." + +These words recalled me to the events of the previous evening. + +"If you like, I will make him go away," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"No, let him alone." + +I looked at the leopard with sympathy. Our common misfortune brought +us together. + +I even caressed his rounded forehead. King Hiram showed his +contentment by stretching out at full length and uncurling his great +amber claws. The mat on the floor had much to suffer. + +"Galé is here, too," said the little girl. + +"Galé! Who may he be?" + +At the same time, I saw on Tanit-Zerga's knees a strange animal, +about the size of a big cat, with flat ears, and a long muzzle. Its +pale gray fur was rough. + +It was watching me with queer little pink eyes. + +"It is my mongoose," explained Tanit-Zerga. + +"Come now," I said sharply, "is that all?" + +I must have looked so crabbed and ridiculous that Tanit-Zerga began to +laugh. I laughed, too. + +"Galé is my friend," she said when she was serious again. "I saved her +life. It was when she was quite little. I will tell you about it some +day. See how good-natured she is." + +So saying, she dropped the mongoose on my knees. + +"It is very nice of you, Tanit-Zerga," I said, "to come and pay me a +visit." I passed my hand slowly over the animal's back. "What time is +it now?" + +"A little after nine. See, the sun is already high. Let me draw the +shade." + +The room was in darkness. Galé's eyes grew redder. King Hiram's became +green. + +"It is very nice of you," I repeated, pursuing my idea. "I see that +you are free to-day. You never came so early before." + +A shade passed over the girl's forehead. + +"Yes, I am free," she said, almost bitterly. + +I looked at Tanit-Zerga more closely. For the first time I realized +that she was beautiful. Her hair, which she wore falling over her +shoulders, was not so much curly as it was gently waving. Her features +were of remarkable fineness: the nose very straight, a small mouth +with delicate lips, a strong chin. She was not black, but copper +colored. Her slender graceful body had nothing in common with the +disgusting thick sausages which the carefully cared for bodies of the +blacks become. + +A large circle of copper made a heavy decoration around her forehead +and hair. She had four bracelets, still heavier, on her wrists and +anklets, and, for clothing, a green silk tunic, slashed in points, +braided with gold. Green, bronze, gold. + +"You are a Sonrhaï, Tanit-Zerga?" I asked gently. + +She replied with almost ferocious pride: + +"I am a Sonrhaï." + +"Strange little thing," I thought. + +Evidently this was a subject on which Tanit-Zerga did not intend the +conversation to turn. I recalled how, almost painfully, she had +pronounced that "they," when she had told me how they had driven away +King Hiram. + +"I am a Sonrhaï," she repeated. "I was born at Gâo, on the Niger, the +ancient Sonrhaï capital. My fathers reigned over the great Mandingue +Empire. You need not scorn me because I am here as a slave." + +In a ray of sunlight, Galé, seated on his little haunches, washed his +shining mustaches with his forepaws; and King Hiram, stretched out on +the mat, groaned plaintively in his sleep. + +"He is dreaming," said Tanit-Zerga, a finger on her lips. + +There was a moment of silence. Then she said: + +"You must be hungry. And I do not think that you will want to eat with +the others." + +I did not answer. + +"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something +to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Galé's dinner +here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone." + +And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my +answer. + +That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she +came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of +Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that +she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to +her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself, +dared not direct the conversation. + +To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like +a nervous little parokeet. + +I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended +me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big +and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my +delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me. + +In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and +among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life. + +It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far +this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou +art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou +watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not +having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou +deservedest so richly. + +"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and +rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth +waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger, +it was.... But you are not listening to me." + +"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga." + +"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?" + +"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on." + +"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at +the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees, +brothers of the _zeg-zeg_, the spines of which pierced the head of +your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our +prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of Paradise;[15] +and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse +its shade in a century. + +[Footnote 15: The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the +caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to +ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great +snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in +glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash. + +"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gâo the deathlike lull +of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of +the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep +along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies +on the banks, and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of +the mud flats. + +"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the +morning; and to fête the sun setting behind the black branches of the +_douldouls_, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our +hands, as we sang the Sonrhaï hymn. + +"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must +not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you +like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who +must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold +ribbons he had on his white sleeves." + +"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere. + +"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay +no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these +things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gâo, the Niger makes a +bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with +large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking. +Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the +morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum, +boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder--boum-boum, +boum-baraboum--and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds, +aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum +trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely +flurried by the breeze that was springing up. + +"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook +the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that +the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was +dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening. + +"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down, +manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon +leapt ashore. + +"The oldest, a French _marabout_, with a great white burnous, who knew +our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my +father advanced and told him that it was he, the _marabout_ told him +that the commandant of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a +mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that +she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage +towards Ansango. + +"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives +against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but +for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the +resources of Gâo, including the forge, at the disposition of the +French chief, for repairing the gunboat. + +"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked +at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little +bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear. + +"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice. + +"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,' +I replied, vexed at his informality. + +"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you +give me the flowers that you have around your neck?' + +"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He +kissed me. The peace was made. + +"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and +strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the +river. + +"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief +mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away +before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy +soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.' + +"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend. + +"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little +companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most +beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that +had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great +cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I +went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay +with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples +on the surface of the dark waves. + +"That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French +officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his +head: 'Caw,--caw--the shade of the gum trees of Gâo--caw, caw--will +avail nothing tomorrow night--caw, caw--to the white chief nor to his +escort.' + +"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers. +They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage +of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing. + +"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority: + +'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that +the shade of the gum trees of Gâo would be fatal to your chief in the +coming night!...' + +"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the +sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added: + +"'And to his escort!' + +"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating +in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic +entered. + +"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like +angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave +this evening.' + +"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by +too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the +week. It will be better to start in the morning.' + +"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my +dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he +said gravely: + +"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you +wish it.' + +"And he kissed me. + +"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left +the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who +waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the +rickety jetty, I waited, watching the water flow by, until the last +sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into +the night."[16] + +[Footnote 16: Cf. the records and the _Bulletin de la Société de +Géographie de Paris_ (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the +_Commandant_ of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants +Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +Tanit-Zerga paused. + +"That was the last night of Gâo. While I was sleeping and the moon was +still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant. +Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can +never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found +me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my +little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who +escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among +them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men. +Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of +Gâo beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gâo had been razed +by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their +gunboat. + +"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being +pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp +disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen, +in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan +Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhât. At first, because they went +more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was +an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the +men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick +for having refused to go farther. + +"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead +as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each +time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one +of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a +little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me +turn around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor +arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed +in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from +a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue +steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later, +driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears, +trying to regain my place in the caravan. + +"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg +of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, which rules +over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man. +That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who +was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it +is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not +even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhaï Emperors, +of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed +Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen +hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand _mithkal_ of gold in the +days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to +the western sea, and when Gâo raised her cupola, sister of the sky, +above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the +tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum." + + + + +XVI + +THE SILVER HAMMER + + _Je ne m'en défends plus et je ne veux qu' aller + Reconnaître la place où je dois l'immoler_. + (Andromaque.) + + +It was this sort of a night when what I am going to tell you now +happened. Toward five o'clock the sky clouded over and a sense of the +coming storm trembled in the stifling air. + +I shall always remember it. It was the fifth of January, 1897. + +King Hiram and Galé lay heavily on the matting of my room. Leaning on +my elbows beside Tanit-Zerga in the rock-hewn window, I spied the +advance tremors of lightning. + +One by one they rose, streaking the now total darkness with their +bluish stripes. But no burst of thunder followed. The storm did not +attain the peaks of Ahaggar. It passed without breaking, leaving us in +our gloomy bath of sweat. + +"I am going to bed," said Tanit-Zerga. + +I have said that her room was above mine. Its bay window was some +thirty feet above that before which I lay. + +She took Galé in her arms. But King Hiram would have none of it. +Digging his four paws into the matting, he whined in anger and +uneasiness. + +"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep +here." + +So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of +responsibility in the events which followed. + +Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The +whole mountain was shrouded in silence. + +It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from +my meditation. + +King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn +claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now +wanted to go out. He was determined to go out. + +"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!" + +I tried to pull him away from the door. + +I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw. + +Then I sat down on the divan. + +My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange +abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only +one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of +Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps +a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen +tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as +this?" + +Immediately I made a resolve. + +"If I open the door," I thought, "King Hiram will leap down the +corridor and I shall have great difficulty in following him. I must +find some other way." + +The shade of the window was worked by means of a small cord. I pulled +it down. Then I tied it into a firm leash which I fastened to the +metal collar of the leopard. + +I half opened the door. + +"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly." + +I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who +dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly +before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost +burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was +casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here +on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the +leopard. + +At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained +ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy. + +Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor. +Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat +room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear +presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to +take me. + +Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly +glimmering red and green, appeared before us. + +The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose +window was cut. + +I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me +the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when +I had found myself in the presence of Antinea. + +"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he +would not give a dangerously loud growl. + +I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell +upon the floor, green and red. + +A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better +control of King Hiram who was getting nervous. + +The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was +completely dark. But the garden on which it gave shone under a +clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not +break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter. + +I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my +knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my +goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means. + +Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices. + +King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash. +He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices +seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among +the scattered cushions. + +My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of +cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me. + +Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had +stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound. + +Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I +opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered +feebly. + +"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet." + +And I put my arms about his powerful neck. + +I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook +with happiness. + +In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the +middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and +drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems. + +They were the white Tuareg. + +A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them. +Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow. + +The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light +and shadow, made a strange etching. + +They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous +voices. + +Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the +impatient little beast. + +"Go, boy." + +He leapt with a sharp yelp. + +And what I had foreseen happened. + +The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white +Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him +into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of +another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was +standing. + +"There!" I thought. + +The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One +realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon +the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in +one direction, the copper cups, in the other. + +Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with +low oaths. + +I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into +the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor, +down which King Hiram had just disappeared. + +At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which +seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way. + +One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I +was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated. + +"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back +politely to my room." + +The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber +of Antinea. + +The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the +right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left +was dim. + +Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a _guignol_ +is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its +opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I +noticed such a _guignol_ at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat +in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm. + +There I could see and hear everything. + +I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room, +except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow, +but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming +stuffs and furs. + +Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver +tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her +feet, licking them madly. + +The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the +other on his forehead, saluting. + +Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man. + +"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be +alone." + +"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly. + +"The doors were not closed, then?" + +The slave did not answer. + +"Shall I take him away?" he asked. + +And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, +expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply. + +"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea. + +She tapped nervously on the little silver tray. + +"What is the captain doing?" she asked. + +"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa +answered. + +"Has he said nothing?" + +"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer." + +Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly. + +"Did he say nothing else?" + +"No, mistress," said the man. + +A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead. + +"Go get him," she said brusquely. + +Bowing, the Targa left the room. + +I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had +he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He +had wanted to see me and been unable to! + +My eyes never left Antinea's. + +She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first +interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not +a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic. +Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight +shoulders and her bare arms. + +Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did +not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering +Cleopatra. + +Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her. + +An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the +wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw +her nude. + +A splendid and bitter sight!--A woman who thinks herself alone, +standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to +subdue! + +The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible +columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in +which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me, +standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror. + +Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into +the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such +a transformation to believe it possible. + +Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa. + +He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression +of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt +that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never. + +He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture +inviting him to be seated. + +She smiled at him. + +"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send +for you at so late an hour." + +Morhange did not move an eyelash. + +"Have you considered it well?" she demanded. + +Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply. + +I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to continue +smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings. + +"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is +to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise +to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your +captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?" + +"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said +Morhange simply. + +I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at +Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing +the one wish he had expressed. + +But Antinea continued calmly: + +"That is why I sent for you--to tell you that you are going to see him +again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me +even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me +to your will--I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however +that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you +satisfied?" + +"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile. + +"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for +the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I +shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time, +to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my +government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers +and several cannon." + +Antinea was standing up, very pale. + +"What are you saying?" + +"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First +threats, then promises." + +Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her +with a sort of grave pity. + +"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally. + +"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied. + +"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine." + +"I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm. + +Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my +companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face. + +He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together +with a strange mixture of force and gentleness. + +King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes +of Morhange held him fascinated. + +"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea. + +It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was +overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply. + +"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he +would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name." + +So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From +the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to +him. + +"Listen," she said. + +How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless +for the first time! + +"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I +hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your +life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...." + +"I have remembered all that," said Morhange. + +"A last time," she repeated. + +The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely +noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of +worldliness remained. + +"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking. + +Morhange was not even looking at her. + +"As you will," she said. + +Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa +appeared. + +"Leave the room!" + +Morhange, his head held high, went out. + +Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom +I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl. + +So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped +out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in +the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her +mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... _O tremblant +coeur humain_.... + +Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the +langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice, +the voice which is murmuring: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it." + +My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft, +nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems +as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant +censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it." + +Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in +her great eyes. + +Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a +little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong +with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she +struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver +head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death.... + +I see nothing more.... + + + + +XVII + +THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS + + +I awakened in my room. The sun, already at its zenith, filled the +place with unbearable light and heat. + +The first thing I saw, on opening my eyes, was the shade, ripped down, +lying in the middle of the floor. Then, confusedly, the night's events +began to come back to me. + +My head felt stupid and heavy. My mind wandered. My memory seemed +blocked. "I went out with the leopard, that is certain. That red mark +on my forefinger shows how he strained at the leash. My knees are +still dusty. I remember creeping along the wall in the room where the +white Tuareg were playing at dice. That was the minute after King +Hiram had leapt past them. After that ... oh, Morhange and Antinea.... +And then?" + +I recalled nothing more. I recalled nothing more. But something must +have happened, something which I could not remember. + +I was uneasy. I wanted to go back, yet it seemed as if I were afraid +to go. I have never felt anything more painful than those conflicting +emotions. + +"It is a long way from here to Antinea's apartments. I must have been +very sound asleep not to have noticed when they brought me back--for +they have brought me back." + +I stopped trying to think it out. My head ached too much. + +"I must have air," I murmured. "I am roasting here; it will drive me +mad." + +I had to see someone, no matter whom. Mechanically, I walked toward +the library. + +I found M. Le Mesge in a transport of delirious joy. The Professor was +engaged in opening an enormous bale, carefully sewed in a brown +blanket. + +"You come at a good time, sir," he cried, on seeing me enter. "The +magazines have just arrived." + +He dashed about in feverish haste. Presently a stream of pamphlets and +magazines, blue, green, yellow and salmon, was bursting from an +opening in the bale. + +"Splendid, splendid!" he cried, dancing with joy. "Not too late, +either; here are the numbers for October fifteenth. We must give a +vote of thanks to good Ameur." + +His good spirits were contagious. + +"There is a good Turkish merchant who subscribes to all the +interesting magazines of the two continents. He sends them on by +Rhadamès to a destination which he little suspects. Ah, here are the +French ones." + +M. Le Mesge ran feverishly over, the tables of contents. + +"Internal politics: articles by Francis Charmes, Anatole +Leroy-Beaulieu, d'Haussonville on the Czar's trip to Paris. Look, a +study by Avenel of wages in the Middle Ages. And verse, verses of the +young poets, Fernand Gregh, Edmond Haraucourt. Ah, the resumé of a +book by Henry de Castries on Islam. That may be interesting.... Take +what you please." + +Joy makes people amiable and M. Le Mesge was really delirious with it. + +A puff of breeze came from the window. I went to the balustrade and, +resting my elbows on it, began to run through a number of the _Revue +des Deux Mondes_. + +I did not read, but flipped over the pages, my eyes now on the lines +of swarming little black characters, now on the rocky basin which lay +shivering, pale pink, under the declining sun. + +Suddenly my attention became fixed. There was a strange coincidence +between the text and the landscape. + +"In the sky overhead were only light shreds of cloud, like bits of +white ash floating up from burnt-out logs. The sun fell over a circle +of rocky peaks, silhouetting their severe lines against the azure sky. +From on high, a great sadness and gentleness poured down into the +lonely enclosure, like a magic drink into a deep cup...."[17] + +[Footnote 17: Gabrielle d'Annunzio: _Les Vierges aux Rochers_. Cf. The +_Revue des Deux Mondes_ of October 15, 1896; page 867.] + +I turned the pages feverishly. My mind seemed to be clearing. + +Behind me, M. Le Mesge, deep in an article, voiced his opinions in +indignant growls. + +I continued reading: + +"On all sides a magnificent view spread out before us in the raw +light. The chain of rocks, clearly visible in their barren desolation +which stretched to the very summit, lay stretched out like some great +heap of gigantic, unformed things left by some primordial race of +Titans to stupefy human beings. Overturned towers...." + +"It is shameful, downright shameful," the Professor was repeating. + +"Overturned towers, crumbling citadels, cupolas fallen in, broken +pillars, mutilated colossi, prows of vessels, thighs of monsters, +bones of titans,--this mass, impassable with its ridges and gullies, +seemed the embodiment of everything huge and tragic. So clear were the +distances...." + +"Downright shameful," M. Le Mesge kept on saying in exasperation, +thumping his fist on the table. + +"So clear were the distances that I could see, as if I had it under my +eyes, infinitely enlarged, every contour of the rock which Violante +had shown me through the window with the gesture of a creator...." + +Trembling, I closed the magazine. At my feet, now red, I saw the rock +which Antinea had pointed out to me the day of our first interview, +huge, steep, overhanging the reddish brown garden. + +"That is my horizon," she had said. + +M. Le Mesge's excitement had passed all bounds. + +"It is worse than shameful; it is infamous." + +I almost wanted to strangle him into silence. He seized my arm. + +"Read that, sir; and, although you don't know a great deal about the +subject, you will see that this article on Roman Africa is a miracle +of misinformation, a monument of ignorance. And it is signed ... do +you know by whom it is signed?" + +"Leave me alone," I said brutally. + +"Well, it is signed Gaston Boissier. Yes, sir! Gaston Boissier, grand +officer of the Legion of Honor, lecturer at the _Ecole Normale +Supérieure_, permanent secretary of the French Academy, member of the +Academy of Inscriptions and Literature, one of those who once ruled +out the subject of my thesis ... one of those ... ah, poor university, +ah, poor France!" + +I was no longer listening. I had begun to read again. My forehead was +covered with sweat. But it seemed as if my head had been cleared like +a room when a window is opened; memories were beginning to come back +like doves winging their way home to the dovecote. + +"At that moment, an irrepressible tremor shook her whole body; her +eyes dilated as if some terrible sight had filled them with horror. + +"'Antonello,' she murmured. + +"And for seconds, she was unable to say another word. + +"I looked at her in mute anguish and the suffering which drew her dear +lips together seemed also to clutch at my heart. The vision which was +in her eyes passed into mine, and I saw again the thin white face of +Antonello, and the quick quivering of his eyelids, the waves of agony +which seized his long worn body and shook it like a reed." + +I threw the magazine upon the table. + +"That is it," I said. + +To cut the pages, I had used the knife with which M. Le Mesge had cut +the cords of the bale, a short ebony-handled dagger, one of those +daggers that the Tuareg wear in a bracelet sheath against the upper +left arm. + +I slipped it into the big pocket of my flannel dolman and walked +toward the door. + +I was about to cross the threshold when I heard M. Le Mesge call me. + +"Monsieur de Saint Avit! Monsieur de Saint Avit! + +"I want to ask you something, please." + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing important. You know that I have to mark the labels for the +red marble hall...." + +I walked toward the table. + +"Well, I forgot to ask M. Morhange, at the beginning, the date and +place of his birth. After that, I had no chance. I did not see him +again. So I am forced to turn to you. Perhaps you can tell me?" + +"I can," I said very calmly. + +He took a large white card from a box which contained several and +dipped his pen. + +"Number 54 ... Captain?" + +"Captain Jean-Marie-François Morhange." + +While I dictated, one hand resting on the table, I noticed on my cuff +a stain, a little stain, reddish brown. + +"Morhange," repeated M. Le Mesge, finishing the lettering of my +friend's name. "Born at...?" + +"Villefranche." + +"Villefranche, Rhône. What date?" + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859." + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859. Good. Died at Ahaggar, the fifth of +January, 1897.... There, that is done. A thousand thanks, sir, for +your kindness." + +"You are welcome." + +I left M. Le Mesge. + +My mind, thenceforth, was well made up; and, as I said, I was +perfectly calm. Nevertheless, when I had taken leave of M. Le Mesge, I +felt the need of waiting a few minutes before executing my decision. + +First I wandered through the corridors; then, finding myself near my +room, I went to it. It was still intolerably hot. I sat down on my +divan and began to think. + +The dagger in my pocket bothered me. I took it out and laid it on the +floor. + +It was a good dagger, with a diamond-shaped blade, and with a collar +of orange leather between the blade and the handle. + +The sight of it recalled the silver hammer. I remembered how easily it +fitted into my hand when I struck.... + +Every detail of the scene came back to me with incomparable vividness. +But I did not even shiver. It seemed as if my determination to kill +the instigator of the murder permitted me peacefully to evoke its +brutal details. + +If I reflected over my deed, it was to be surprised at it, not to +condemn myself. + +"Well," I said to myself, "I have killed this Morhange, who was once a +baby, who, like all the others, cost his mother so much trouble with +his baby sicknesses. I have put an end to his life, I have reduced to +nothingness the monument of love, of tears, of trials overcome and +pitfalls escaped, which constitutes a human existence. What an +extraordinary adventure!" + +That was all. No fear, no remorse, none of that Shakespearean horror +after the murder, which, today, sceptic though I am and blasé and +utterly, utterly disillusioned, sets me shuddering whenever I am alone +in a dark room. + +"Come," I thought. "It's time. Time to finish it up." + +I picked up the dagger. Before putting it in my pocket, I went through +the motion of striking. All was well. The dagger fitted into my hand. + +I had been through Antinea's apartment only when guided, the first +time by the white Targa, the second time, by the leopard. Yet I found +the way again without trouble. Just before coming to the door with the +rose window, I met a Targa. + +"Let me pass," I ordered. "Your mistress has sent for me." The man +obeyed, stepping back. + +Soon a dim melody came to my ears. I recognized the sound of a +_rebaza_, the violin with a single string, played by the Tuareg women. +It was Aguida playing, squatting as usual at the feet of her mistress. +The three other women were also squatted about her. Tanit-Zerga was +not there. + +Oh! Since that was the last time I saw her, let, oh, let me tell you +of Antinea, how she looked in that supreme moment. + +Did she feel the danger hovering over her and did she wish to brave it +by her surest artifices? I had in mind the slender; unadorned body, +without rings, without jewels, which I had pressed to my heart the +night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me, +adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen! + +The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On +her head was the great gold _pschent_ of Egyptian gods and kings; +emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing +and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin _schenti_, +embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel. +At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare +arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as +if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the _pschent_ +streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her +determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat. + +She smiled as I entered. + +"I was expecting you," she said simply. + +I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before +her. + +She looked at me ironically. + +"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm. + +I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my +pocket. + +I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike. + +"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the +red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women, +whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring. + +She turned to me. + +"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to +my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than +with the dagger." + +"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you." + +"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are +you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes +were wide with terror. + +"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the +moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...." + +"Did--did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling. + +"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done +nothing else all your life." + +"Like little Kaine," I murmured. + +She smiled in surprise. + +"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least +Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand." + +"I do not understand myself, very well." + +She looked at me with amused curiosity. + +"Antinea," I said. + +"What is it?" + +"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one +question?" + +"What is it?" + +"It was dark, was it not, in the room where _he_ was?" + +"Very dark. I had to lead you to the bed where he lay asleep." + +"He _was_ asleep, you are sure?" + +"I said so." + +"He--did not die instantly, did he?" + +"No. I know exactly when he died; two minutes after you struck him and +fled with a shriek." + +"Then surely _he_ could not have known?" + +"Known what?" + +"That it was I who--who held the hammer." + +"He might not have known it, indeed," Antinea said. "But he did know." + +"How?" + +"He did know ... because I told him," she said, staring at me with +magnificent audacity. + +"And," I murmured, "he--he believed it?" + +"With the help of my explanation, he recognized your shriek. If he had +not realized that you were his murderer, the affair would not have +interested me," she finished with a scornful little smile. + +Four steps, I said, separated me from Antinea. I sprang forward. But, +before I reached her, I was struck to the floor. + +King Hiram had leapt at my throat. + +At the same moment I heard the calm, haughty voice of Antinea: + +"Call the men," she commanded. + +A second later I was released from the leopard's clutch. The six white +Tuareg had surrounded me and were trying to bind me. + +I am fairly strong and quick. I was on my feet in a second. One of my +enemies lay on the floor, ten feet away, felled by a well-placed blow +on the jaw. Another was gasping under my knee. That was the last time +I saw Antinea. She stood erect, both hands resting on her ebony +scepter, watching the struggle with a smile of contemptuous interest. + +Suddenly I gave a loud cry and loosed the hold I had on my victim. A +cracking in my left arm: one of the Tuareg had seized it and twisted +until my shoulder was dislocated. + +When I completely lost consciousness, I was being carried down the +corridor by two white phantoms, so bound that I could not move a +muscle. + + + + +XVIII + +THE FIRE-FLIES + + +Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my +room. + +A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay. + +"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips. + +"Sh! Yes, it is I." + +I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my +shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed +mind. + +"Oh, little one, if you knew!" + +"I know," she said. + +I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a +fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me. + +"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get me +away from here." + +"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at the +door." + +"Take me away; save me," I repeated. + +"That is what I came for," she said simply. + +I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk +tunic. A plain white _haik_ was wrapped about her; and she had drawn +one corner of it over her head. + +"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice. + +"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gâo, the +village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the +green water. + +"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated, +"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared +speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of +_her_.... But you, you wanted to kill her." + +I gave a low moan. + +"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm." + +"Dislocated it anyhow." + +"Let me see." + +With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my +shoulder. + +"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, +Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?" + +"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular +line halved its blue opening. + +Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. +A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the +opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound. + +She came back to me. + +"How can we escape?" I asked. + +"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window. + +I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching +for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had +dashed himself. + +"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet from +here to the ground." + +"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strong +rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is +quite new." + +"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!" + +"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are. +Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of +the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of +them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight. + +"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. I +can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest." + +"And you?" I asked. + +"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and +follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands +too much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gâo, when I was +just a child, I used to climb almost as high as this in the gum trees +to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to +climb down." + +"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way +through the barriers?" + +"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "except +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea." + +"Then?" + +"There are the camels of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on +his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below +us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will +be well fed when we start." + +"But...." I still protested. + +She stamped her foot. + +"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to +see Gâo once again, Gâo with its blue gum-trees and its green water." + +I felt myself blushing. + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of +the desert than stay here. Let us start." + +"Tut!" she said. "Not yet." + +She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight. + +"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will +have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time." + +She sat silent, her _haik_ wrapped completely about her dark little +figure. Was she praying? Perhaps. + +Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The +moon had turned. + +Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I +tried not to tremble. + +Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga +began to speak: + +"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here +is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it +pressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It is +tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against +the bumping and scraping." + +I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the sill of the +window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks +refreshed me. + +I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket. + +"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You +will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and +follow you." + +She held my hand a moment. + +"Now go," she murmured. + +I went. + +I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with +vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, +against the perfectly smooth wall. + +"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have been +hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am +stopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but +it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove +with my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. +I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I was +down. + +Immediately I began to get nervous again. + +I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, +I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of +the mountain, and put my foot on it. + +Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it. + +One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky +night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their +pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, +disappeared. + +"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope." + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side. + +I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let +go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks. + +"Give it to me," he repeated with authority. + +And he took it from my hands. + +I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great +dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, with a dislocated +shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? +What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding +the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much +better than I had been able to do. + +A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form. + +"There," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his +powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let +slack, slapped back against the rock. + +Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned. + +He put his hand roughly over her mouth. + +"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly." + +He seized her arm. Then he turned to me. + +"Come," he said in an imperious tone. + +I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teeth +chattering with terror. + +We reached a little cave. + +"Go in," said the Targa. + +He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully +chewing his cud. + +"The little one is not stupid," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to +the animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. +But she is rattle-brained." + +He held the torch nearer the camel. + +"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. No +water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you +would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!" + +Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa +with a mixture of terror and hope. + +"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I can +explain to you." + +When I was beside him, he said: + +"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as long +as possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may be +that you will not find a well for three hundred miles. + +"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat. +Not many, for water is much more precious. Here also is a carbine, +your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. And +there is this." + +He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent over +it; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me. + +"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked. + +"Toward Idelès, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me," +I said. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh shook his head. + +"I thought as much," he murmured. + +Then he added coldly: + +"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have been +caught and massacred." + +"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is under +the control of Antinea. You must go south." + +"Then we shall go south." + +"By what route?" + +"Why, by Silet and Timissao." + +The Targa again shook his head. + +"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a good +road, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar with +it. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells." + +"Well, then?" + +"Well," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road from +Timissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from here +toward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That is +the boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the Awellimiden +Tuareg." + +The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in: + +"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried me +into slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of the +Awellimiden." + +"Be still, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh. + +Then addressing me, he continued: + +"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The +Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French. +Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other +hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow +you into their country. What I have said, is said. You must rejoin +the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the +Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach +the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy +of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi +is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight." + +"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross +the Tanezruft." + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft +is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would +shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He +knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or +become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is +the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have +to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of +the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route. + +"You can stay here," he added. + +"My choice is made, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I announced. + +"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail +begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It +ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them +too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the +route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the +little one. Two make less noise than four." + +We went a long way in silence. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his +camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep +gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a +thick tangle of rocks and briars. + +Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light +filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had stopped. + +"Get down," he said. + +A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a +copper cup with the water. + +"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed. + +"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents +of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset." + +He looked over the saddle girths. + +"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will +be here. You must be out of sight." + +I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and +took his hand. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing +this?" + +He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam. + +"Why?" he said. + +"Yes, why?" + +He replied with dignity: + +"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pity +take the place of duty. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permission +to the advantage of one who saved his life." + +"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of +Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head. + +"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. +"It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain +met his death." + +I was horrified at this logical reply. + +"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the +little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is +coming." + +I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew +back. + +"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes +of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you +nor for anyone else." + +And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not +protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which still sounds in my +ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to +you." + +I looked at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. +"For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the +help of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering. + +"You will come back," the Targa replied. + +He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock. + +"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now, +but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world with +the same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow you +everywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you will +pass again through the corridor through which you have just come." + +"Be still, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice of +Tanit-Zerga. + +"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh. + +He sneered. + +"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. She +knows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti." + +"Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead. + +"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhât and Rhadamès eight +years ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make him +forget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and he +succeeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back to +his country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day, +when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tattered +creature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for the +entrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, come +back. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall." + +The Targa smiled slightly. + +"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear. +But enough of this. Mount your camel." + +I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated behind me, put +her little arms around me. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was still holding the +bridle. + +"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violet +sky of the southern horizon. "You see the _gour_ there; that is your +way. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise. +Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not stray +from the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days." + +The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from the +south. + +The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand. + +"Now go." + +"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you, +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell." + +I heard his voice replying in the distance: + +"_Au revoir_, Lieutenant de Saint Avit." + + + + +XIX + +THE TANEZRUFT + + +During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five +leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the _gour_ which +the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher +against the paling sky. + +The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts +of _retem_, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left. + +I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering: + +"Stop the camel." + +At first I did not understand. + +"Stop him," she repeated. + +Her hand pulled sharply at my right arm. + +I obeyed. The camel slackened his pace with very bad grace. + +"Listen," she said. + +At first I heard nothing. Then a very slight noise, a dry rustling +behind us. + +"Stop the camel," Tanit-Zerga commanded. "It is not worth while to +make him kneel." + +A little gray creature bounded on the camel. The mehari set out again +at his best speed. + +"Let him go," said Tanit-Zerga. "Galé has jumped on." + +I felt a tuft of bristly hair under my arm. The mongoose had followed +our footsteps and rejoined us. I heard the quick panting of the brave +little creature becoming gradually slower and slower. + +"I am happy," murmured Tanit-Zerga. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had not been mistaken. We reached the _gour_ as the +sun rose. I looked back. The Atakor was nothing more than a monstrous +chaos amid the night mists which trailed the dawn. It was no longer +possible to pick out from among the nameless peaks, the one on which +Antinea was still weaving her passionate plots. + +You know what the Tanezruft is, the "plain of plains," abandoned, +uninhabitable, the country of hunger and thirst. We were then starting +on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the +south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works +under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without +vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast." + +Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this +rocky desert. Oh, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh did not exaggerate in saying that +no one would dream of following us into that country. + +Great patches of oblivion still refused to clear away. Memories chased +each other incoherently about my head. A sentence came back to me +textually: "It seemed to Dick that he had never, since the beginning +of original darkness, done anything at all save jolt through the air." +I gave a little laugh. "In the last few hours," I thought, "I have +been heaping up literary situations. A while ago, a hundred feet above +the ground, I was Fabrice of _La Chartreuse de Parme_ beside his +Italian dungeon. Now, here on my camel, I am Dick of _The Light That +Failed_, crossing the desert to meet his companions in arms." I +chuckled again; then shuddered. I thought of the preceding night, of +the Orestes of _Andromaque_ who agreed to sacrifice Pyrrhus. A +literary situation indeed.... + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had reckoned eight days to get to the wooded +country of the Awellimiden, forerunners of the grassy steppes of the +Soudan. He knew well the worth of his beast. Tanit-Zerga had suddenly +given him a name, _El Mellen_, the white one, for the magnificent +mehari had an almost spotless coat. Once he went two days without +eating, merely picking up here and there a branch of an acacia tree +whose hideous white spines, four inches long, filled me with fear for +our friend's oesophagus. The wells marked out by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh +were indeed at the indicated spots, but we found nothing in them but a +burning yellow mud. It was enough for the camel, enough so that at the +end of the fifth day, thanks to prodigious self-control, we had used +up only one of our two water skins. Then we believed ourselves safe. + +Near one of these muddy puddles, I succeeded that day in shooting down +a little straight-horned desert gazelle. Tanit-Zerga skinned the beast +and we regaled ourselves with a delicious haunch. Meantime, little +Galé, who never ceased prying about the cracks in the rocks during our +mid-day halts in the heat, discovered an _ourane_, a sand crocodile, +five feet long, and made short work of breaking his neck. She ate so +much she could not budge. It cost us a pint of water to help her +digestion. We gave it with good grace, for we were happy. Tanit-Zerga +did not say so, but her joy at knowing that I was thinking no more of +the woman in the gold diadem and the emeralds was apparent. And +really, during those days, I hardly thought of her. I thought only of +the torrid heat to be avoided, of the water skins which, if you wished +to drink fresh water, had to be left for an hour in a cleft in the +rocks; of the intense joy which seized you when you raised to your +lips a leather goblet brimming with that life-saving water.... I can +say this with authority, with good authority, indeed; passion, +spiritual or physical, is a thing for those who have eaten and drunk +and rested. + +It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The frightful heat was +slackening. We had left a kind of rocky crevice where we had had a +little nap. Seated on a huge rock, we were watching the reddening +west. + +I spread out the roll of paper on which Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had marked +the stages of our journey as far as the road from the Soudan. I +realized again with joy that his itinerary was exact and that I had +followed it scrupulously. + +"The evening of the day after to-morrow," I said, "we shall be setting +out on the stage which will take us, by the next dawn, to the waters +at Telemsi. Once there, we shall not have to worry any more about +water." + +Tanit-Zerga's eyes danced in her thin face. + +"And Gâo?" she asked. + +"We will be only a week from the Niger. And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh said +that at Telemsi, one reached a road overhung with mimosa." + +"I know the mimosa," she said. "They are the little yellow balls that +melt in your hand. But I like the caper flowers better. You will come +with me to Gâo. My father, Sonni-Azkia, was killed, as I told you, by +the Awellimiden. But my people must have rebuilt the villages. They +are used to that. You will see how you will be received." + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga, I promise you. But you also, you must promise +me...." + +"What? Oh, I guess. You must take me for a little fool if you believe +me capable of speaking of things which might make trouble for my +friend." + +She looked at me as she spoke. Privation and great fatigue had +chiselled the brown face where her great eyes shone.... Since then, I +have had time to assemble the maps and compasses, and to fix forever +the spot where, for the first time, I understood the beauty of +Tanit-Zerga's eyes. + +There was a deep silence between us. It was she who broke it. + +"Night is coming. We must eat so as to leave as soon as possible." + +She stood up and went toward the rocks. + +Almost immediately, I heard her calling in an anguished voice that +sent a chill through me. + +"Come! Oh, come see!" + +With a bound, I was at her side. + +"The camel," she murmured. "The camel!" + +I looked, and a deadly shudder seized me. + +Stretched out at full length, on the other side of the rocks, his pale +flanks knotted up by convulsive spasms, _El Mellen_ lay in anguish. + +I need not say that we rushed to him in feverish haste. Of what _El +Mellen_ was dying, I did not know, I never have known. All the mehara +are that way. They are at once the most enduring and the most delicate +of beasts. They will travel for six months across the most frightful +deserts, with little food, without water, and seem only the better for +it. Then, one day when nothing is the matter, they stretch out and +give you the slip with disconcerting ease. + +When Tanit-Zerga and I saw that there was nothing more to do, we stood +there without a word, watching his slackening spasms. When he breathed +his last, we felt that our life, as well as his, had gone. + +It was Tanit-Zerga who spoke first. + +"How far are we from the Soudan road?" she asked. + +"We are a hundred and twenty miles from the springs of Telemsi," I +replied. "We could make thirty miles by going toward Iferouane; but +the wells are not marked on that route." + +"Then we must walk toward the springs of Telemsi," she said. "A +hundred and twenty miles, that makes seven days?" + +"Seven days at the least, Tanit-Zerga." + +"How far is it to the first well?" + +"Thirty-five miles." + +The little girl's face contracted somewhat. But she braced up quickly. + +"We must set out at once." + +"Set out on foot, Tanit-Zerga!" + +She stamped her foot. I marveled to see her so strong. + +"We must go," she repeated. "We are going to eat and drink and make +Galé eat and drink, for we cannot carry all the tins, and the water +skin is so heavy that we should not get three miles if we tried to +carry it. We will put a little water in one of the tins after emptying +it through a little hole. That will be enough for to-night's stage, +which will be eighteen miles without water. To-morrow we will set out +for another eighteen miles and we will reach the wells marked on the +paper by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"Oh," I murmured sadly, "if my shoulder were only not this way, I +could carry the water skin." + +"It is as it is," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"You will take your carbine and two tins of meat. I shall take two +more and the one filled with water. Come. We must leave in an hour if +we wish to cover the eighteen miles. You know that when the sun is up, +the rocks are so hot we cannot walk." + +I leave you to imagine in what sad silence we passed that hour which +we had begun so happily and confidently. Without the little girl, I +believe I should have seated myself upon a rock and waited. Galé only +was happy. + +"We must not let her eat too much," said Tanit-Zerga. "She would not +be able to follow us. And to-morrow she must work. If she catches +another _ourane_, it will be for us." + + +You have walked in the desert. You know how terrible the first hours +of the night are. When the moon comes up, huge and yellow, a sharp +dust seems to rise in suffocating clouds. You move your jaws +mechanically as if to crush the dust that finds its way into your +throat like fire. Then usually a kind of lassitude, of drowsiness, +follows. You walk without thinking. You forget where you are walking. +You remember only when you stumble. Of course you stumble often. But +anyway it is bearable. "The night is ending," you say, "and with it +the march. All in all, I am less tired than at the beginning." The +night ends, but then comes the most terrible hour of all. You are +perishing of thirst and shaking with cold. All the fatigue comes back +at once. The horrible breeze which precedes the dawn is no comfort. +Quite the contrary. Every time you stumble, you say, "The next misstep +will be the last." + +That is what people feel and say even when they know that in a few +hours they will have a good rest with food and water. + +I was suffering terribly. Every step jolted my poor shoulder. At one +time, I wanted to stop, to sit down. Then I looked at Tanit-Zerga. She +was walking ahead with her eyes almost closed. Her expression was an +indefinable one of mingled suffering and determination. I closed my +own eyes and went on. + +Such was the first stage. At dawn we stopped in a hollow in the rocks. +Soon the heat forced us to rise to seek a deeper one. Tanit-Zerga did +not eat. Instead, she swallowed a little of her half can of water. She +lay drowsy all day. Galé ran about our rock giving plaintive little +cries. + +I am not going to tell you about the second march. It was more +horrible than anything you can imagine. I suffered all that it is +humanly possible to suffer in the desert. But already I began to +observe with infinite pity that my man's strength was outlasting the +nervous force of my little companion. The poor child walked on without +saying a word, chewing feebly one corner of her _haik_ which she had +drawn over her face. Galé followed. + +The well toward which we were dragging ourselves was indicated on +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's paper by the one word _Tissaririn. Tissaririn_ is +the plural of _Tissarirt_ and means "two isolated trees." + +Day was dawning when finally I saw the two trees, two gum trees. +Hardly a league separated us from them. I gave a cry of joy. + +"Courage, Tanit-Zerga, there is the well." + +She drew her veil aside and I saw the poor anguished little face. + +"So much the better," she murmured, "because otherwise...." + +She could not even finish the sentence. + +We finished the last half mile almost at a run. We already saw the +hole, the opening of the well. + +Finally we reached it. + +It was empty. + +It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the +suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become +partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to +you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history +composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign +of Marengo." Obstinately I repeated to myself, "I have already said +that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's +charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only +twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces." + +I kept on repeating: + +"Twelve pieces." + +Then I fell into a sort of coma. + +I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I +opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which +burnt so. + +"Get up," she said. "We must go on." + +"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. +It is noon." + +"We must go on," she repeated. + +Then I saw that she was delirious. + +She was standing erect. Her _haik_ had fallen to the ground and little +Galé, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it. + +Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating: + +"We must go on." + +A little sense came back to me. + +"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head." + +"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gâo is over there, not far away. I +can feel it. I want to see Gâo again." + +I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that +all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me, +brought back my senses. + +"Gâo is just over there, isn't it?" she asked. + +Her gleaming eyes became imploring. + +"Yes, dear little girl. Gâo is there. But for God's sake lie down. The +sun is fearful." + +"Oh, Gâo, Gâo!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gâo +again." + +She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine. + +"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see +Gâo again." + +"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet." + +"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where +there is water, at Gâo, where my father was a prince, there was.... +Well, one day, one feast day, there came from the interior of the +country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask +and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag. +On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he +danced the _boussadilla_. I was in the first row, and because I had a +necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of +a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire +over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce +Kountas, of everything, and finally he said: + +"'Have no fear, little girl.' + +"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for +you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gâo gleaming +on the horizon, no longer a servile Gâo reduced to the rank of a +little Negro town, but the splendid Gâo of other days, the great +capital of the country of the blacks, Gâo reborn, with its mosque of +seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with +cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with +great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of +deliverance and of royalty.'" + +Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun +blazed on the _hamada_, burning it white. + +Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry. + +"Gâo! There is Gâo!" + +I looked at her. + +"Gâo," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the +fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red +and white flowers. Gâo...." + +Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty +buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow. +Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly +before us. + +"Gâo!" I cried. "Gâo!" + +And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror. +Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch +the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper: + +"And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance +and of royalty." + +Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the +desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where +Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she +was to rest. + +When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear +little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew +the _haik_ over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the +hollow. + +I had reckoned without Galé. + +The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I +was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall +on the _haik_, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready +to spring, her eyes daring fire. + +"Galé!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her. + +She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig, +throwing the sand furiously aside. + +I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never +finish my task and that, even if I did, Galé would stay there and +disinter the body. + +My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty +desert. A moment later, Galé also slept her last sleep, curled up, as +I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress. + +When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled +sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert, +toward the south. + + + + +XX + +THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE + + +At the foot of the valley of the Mia, at the place where the jackal +had cried the night Saint-Avit told me he had killed Morhange, another +jackal, or perhaps the same one, howled again. + +Immediately I had a feeling that this night would see the +irremediable fulfilled. + +We were seated that evening, as before, on the poor veranda improvised +outside our dining-room. The floor was of plaster, the balustrade of +twisted branches; four posts supported a thatched roof. + +I have already said that from the veranda one could look far out over +the desert. As he finished speaking, Saint-Avit rose and stood leaning +his elbows on the railing. I followed him. + +"And then...." I said. + +He looked at me. + +"And then what? Surely you know what all the newspapers told--how, in +the country of the Awellimiden, I was found dying of hunger and thirst +by an expedition under the command of Captain Aymard, and taken to +Timbuctoo. I was delirious for a month afterward. I have never known +what I may have said during those spells of burning fever. You may be +sure the officers of the Timbuctoo Club did not feel it incumbent upon +them to tell me. When I told them of my adventures, as they are +related in the report of the Morhange--Saint-Avit Expedition, I could +see well enough from the cold politeness with which they received my +explanations, that the official version which I gave them differed at +certain points from the fragments which had escaped me in my delirium. + +"They did not press the matter. It remains understood that Captain +Morhange died from a sunstroke and that I buried him on the border of +the Tarhit watercourse, three marches from Timissao. Everybody can +detect that there are things missing in my story. Doubtless they guess +at some mysterious drama. But proofs are another matter. Because of +the impossibility of collecting them, they prefer to smother what +could only become a silly scandal. But now you know all the details as +well as I." + +"And--she?" I asked timidly. + +He smiled triumphantly. It was triumph at having led me to think no +longer of Morhange, or of his crime, the triumph of feeling that he +had succeeded in imbuing me with his own madness. + +"Yes," he said. "She! For six years I have learned nothing more about +her. But I see her, I talk with her. I am thinking now how I shall +reenter her presence. I shall throw myself at her feet and say simply, +'Forgive me. I rebelled against your law. I did not know. But now I +know; and you see that, like Lieutenant Ghiberti, I have come back.' + +"'Family, honor, country,' said old Le Mesge, 'you will forget all for +her.' Old Le Mesge is a stupid man, but he speaks from experience. He +knows, he who has seen broken before Antinea the wills of the fifty +ghosts in the red marble hall. + +"And now, will you, in your turn, ask me 'What is this woman?' Do I +know myself? And besides, what difference does it make? What does her +past and the mystery of her origin matter to me; what does it matter +whether she is the true descendant of the god of the sea and the +sublime Lagides or the bastard of a Polish drunkard and a harlot of +the Marbeuf quarter? + +"At the time when I was foolish enough to be jealous of Morhange, +these questions might have made some difference to the ridiculous +self-esteem that civilized people mix up with passion. But I have held +Antinea's body in my arms. I no longer wish to know any other, nor if +the fields are in blossom, nor what will become of the human +spirit.... + +"I do not wish to know. Or, rather, it is because I have too exact a +vision of that future, that I pretend to destroy myself in the only +destiny that is worth while: a nature unfathomed and virgin, a +mysterious love. + +"_A nature unfathomed and virgin_. I must explain myself. One winter +day, in a large city all streaked with the soot that falls from black +chimneys of factories and of those horrible houses in the suburbs, I +attended a funeral. + +"We followed the hearse in the mud. The church was new, damp and poor. +Aside from two or three people, relatives struck down by a dull +sorrow, everyone had just one idea: to find some pretext to get away. +Those who went as far as the cemetery were those who did not find an +excuse. I see the gray walls and the cypresses, those trees of sun and +shade, so beautiful in the country of southern France against the low +purple hills. I see the horrible undertaker's men in greasy jackets +and shiny top hats. I see.... No, I'll stop; it's too horrible. + +"Near the wall, in a remote plot, a grave had been dug in frightful +yellow pebbly clay. It was there that they left the dead man whose +name I no longer remember. + +"While they were lowering the casket, I looked at my hands, those +hands which in that strangely lighted country had pressed the hands of +Antinea. A great pity for my body seized me, a great fear of what +threatened it in these cities of mud. 'So,' I said to myself, 'it may +be that this body, this dear body, will come to such an end! No, no, +my body, precious above all other treasures, I swear to you that I +will spare you that ignominy; you shall not rot under a registered +number in the filth of a suburban cemetery. Your brothers in love, the +fifty knights of orichalch, await you, mute and grave, in the red +marble hall. I shall take you back to them.' + +"A _mysterious love_. Shame to him who retails the secrets of his +loves. The Sahara lays its impassable barrier about Antinea; that is +why the most unreasonable requirements of this woman are, in reality, +more modest and chaste than your marriage will be, with its vulgar +public show, the bans, the invitations, the announcements telling an +evil-minded and joking people that after such and such an hour, on +such and such a day, you will have the right to violate your little +tupenny virgin. + +"I think that is all I have to tell you. No, there is still one thing +more. I told you a while ago about the red marble hall. South of +Cherchell, to the west of the Mazafran river, on a hill which in the +early morning, emerges from the mists of the Mitidja, there is a +mysterious stone pyramid. The natives call it, 'The Tomb of the +Christian.' That is where the body of Antinea's ancestress, that +Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, was laid to +rest. Though it is placed in the path of invasions, this tomb has kept +its treasure. No one has ever been able to discover the painted room +where the beautiful body reposes in a glass casket. All that the +ancestress has been able to do, the descendant will be able to surpass +in grim magnificence. In the center of the red marble hall, on the +rock whence comes the plaint of the gloomy fountain, a platform is +reserved. It is there, on an orichalch throne, with the Egyptian +head-dress and the golden serpent on her brow and the trident of +Neptune in her hand, that the marvelous woman I have told you about +will be ensconced on that day when the hundred and twenty niches, +hollowed out in a circle around her throne, shall each have received +its willing prey. + +"When I left Ahaggar, you remember that it was niche number 55 that +was to be mine. Since then, I have never stopped calculating and I +conclude that it is in number 80 or 85 that I shall repose. But any +calculations based upon so fragile a foundation as a woman's whim may +be erroneous. That is why I am getting more and more nervous. 'I must +hurry,' I tell myself. 'I must hurry.' + +"I must hurry," I repeated, as if I were in a dream. + +He raised his head with an indefinable expression of joy. His hand +trembled with happiness when he shook mine. + +"You will see," he repeated excitedly, "you will see." + +Ecstatically, he took me in his arms and held me there a long moment. + +An extraordinary happiness swept over both of us, while, alternately +laughing and crying like children, we kept repeating: + +"We must hurry. We must hurry." + +Suddenly there sprang up a slight breeze that made the tufts of thatch +in the roof rustle. The sky, pale lilac, grew paler still, and, +suddenly, a great yellow rent tore it in the east. Dawn broke over the +empty desert. From within the stockade came dull noises, a bugle call, +the rattle of chains. The post was waking up. + +For several seconds we stood there silent, our eyes fixed on the +southern route by which one reaches Temassinin, Eguéré and Ahaggar. + +A rap on the dining-room door behind us made us start. + +"Come in," said André de Saint-Avit in a voice which had become +suddenly hard. + +The Quartermaster, Chatelain, stood before us. + +"What do you want of me at this hour?" Saint-Avit asked brusquely. + +The non-com stood at attention. + +"Excuse me, Captain. But a native was discovered near the post, last +night, by the patrol. He was not trying to hide. As soon as he had +been brought here, he asked to be led before the commanding officer. +It was midnight and I didn't want to disturb you." + +"Who is this native?" + +"A Targa, Captain." + +"A Targa? Go get him." + +Chatelain stepped aside. Escorted by one of our native soldiers, the +man stood behind him. + +They came out on the terrace. + +The new arrival, six feet tall, was indeed a Targa. The light of dawn +fell upon his blue-black cotton robes. One could see his great dark +eyes flashing. + +When he was opposite my companion, I saw a tremor, immediately +suppressed, run through both men. + +They looked at each other for an instant in silence. + +Then, bowing, and in a very calm voice, the Targa spoke: + +"Peace be with you, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +In the same calm voice, André answered him: + +"Peace be with you, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +[Transcriber's Notes: +1.In the original books, there were handwritten characters for the +Greek words used in the discussion of the Tifinar engravings; the +approximate Greek transliterations have been substituted. +2. Another inscription was hand-drawn in the book, and the center +symbol looks like a capital W, rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise. I +placed notes to that effect where the symbol appears.] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14301 *** diff --git a/14301-h/14301-h.htm b/14301-h/14301-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5acff7d --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/14301-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8972 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html +PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 7%; + margin-right: 7%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em; font-size: 85%;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .ctr {text-align: center;} + .toc{text-indent: 0em; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 2em 0em 2em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em;} + + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14301 ***</div> + +<!-- Page 1 --> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"First, I must warn you,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">before beginning this work,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">not to be surprised to hear<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">me calling barbarians by<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Grecian names."<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">—PLATO<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;"><i>Critias</i></span> +</div></div> + +<!-- Page 2 --> +<div class="ctr"> +<img src="images/title.gif" id="title" style="width: 100%;" alt="Title Page" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> + + +<h1>ATLANTIDA</h1> + +<h2><i>Pierre Benoit</i></h2> + +<h3> Translated by Mary C. Tongue and Mary Ross</h3> + +<h3> ACE BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036</h3> + +<!-- Page 3 --> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>To André Suarès</h4> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#I">I. A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II. CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III. THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION</a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV. TOWARDS LATITUDE 25</a><br /> +<a href="#V">V. THE INSCRIPTION</a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI. THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE</a><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII. THE COUNTRY OF FEAR</a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII. AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR</a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX. ATLANTIS</a><br /> +<a href="#X">X. THE RED MARBLE HALL</a><br /> +<a href="#XI">XI. ANTINEA</a><br /> +<a href="#XII">XII. MORHANGE DISAPPEARS</a><br /> +<a href="#XIII">XIII. THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY</a><br /> +<a href="#XIV">XIV. HOURS OF WAITING</a><br /> +<a href="#XV">XV. THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA</a><br /> +<a href="#XVI">XVI. THE SILVER HAMMER</a><br /> +<a href="#XVII">XVII. THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS</a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. THE FIRE-FLIES</a><br /> +<a href="#XIX">XIX. THE TANEZRUFT</a><br /> +<a href="#XX">XX. THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE</a><br /></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 4 --> + + +<div class="ctr"> +<img src="images/illus004.gif" id="p4" style="width: 100%;" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>HASSI-INIFEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1903.</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>If the following pages are ever to see the light of day it will be +because they have been stolen from me. The delay that I exact before +they shall be disclosed assures me of that. +<a name="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> + +<p>As to this disclosure, let no one distrust my aim when I prepare for +it, when I insist upon it. You may believe me when I maintain that no +pride of authorship binds me to these pages. Already I am too far<!-- Page 5 --> +removed from all such things. Only it is useless that others should +enter upon the path from which I shall not return.</p> + +<p>Four o'clock in the morning. Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with +its pink fire. All about me the bordj is asleep. Through the half-open +door of his room I hear André de Saint-Avit breathing quietly, very +quietly.</p> + +<p>In two days we shall start, he and I. We shall leave the bordj. We +shall penetrate far down there to the South. The official orders came +this morning.</p> + +<p>Now, even if I wished to withdraw, it is too late. André and I asked +for this mission. The authorization that I sought, together with him, +has at this moment become an order. The hierarchic channels cleared, +the pressure brought to bear at the Ministry;—and then to be afraid, +to recoil before this adventure!...</p> + +<p>To be afraid, I said. I know that I am not afraid! One night in the +Gurara, when I found two of my sentinels slaughtered, with the +shameful cross cut of the Berbers slashed across their stomachs—then +I was afraid. I know what fear is. Just so now, when I gazed into the +black depths, whence suddenly all at once the great red sun will rise, +I know that it is not with fear that I tremble. I feel surging within +me the sacred horror of this mystery, and its irresistible attraction.</p> + +<p>Delirious dreams, perhaps. The mad imaginings of a brain surcharged, +and an eye distraught by mirages. The day will come, doubtless, when I +shall reread these pages with an indulgent smile, as a man of fifty is +accustomed to smile when he rereads old letters.</p> + +<p>Delirious dreams. Mad imaginings. But these dreams, these imaginings, +are dear to me. "Captain de Saint-Avit and Lieutenant Ferrières," +reads the official dispatch, "will proceed to Tassili to determine the +statigraphic relation of Albien sandstone and carboniferous limestone. +They will, in addition, profit by any opportunities of determining the +possible change of attitude of the Axdjers towards our penetration, +etc." If the journey should indeed have to do only with such poor +things I think that I should never undertake it.</p> + +<p>So I am longing for what I dread. I shall be dejected if I do not<!-- Page 6 --> +find myself in the presence of what makes me strangely fearful.</p> + +<p>In the depths of the valley of Wadi Mia a jackal is barking. Now and +again, when a beam of moonlight breaks in a silver patch through the +hollows of the heat-swollen clouds, making him think he sees the young +sun, a turtle dove moans among the palm trees.</p> + +<p>I hear a step outside. I lean out of the window. A shade clad in +luminous black stuff glides over the hard-packed earth of the terrace +of the fortification. A light shines in the electric blackness. A man +has just lighted a cigarette. He crouches, facing southwards. He is +smoking.</p> + +<p>It is Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, our Targa guide, the man who in three days +is to lead us across the unknown plateaus of the mysterious +Imoschaoch, across the hamadas of black stones, the great dried oases, +the stretches of silver salt, the tawny hillocks, the flat gold dunes +that are crested over, when the "alizé" blows, with a shimmering haze +of pale sand.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! He is the man. There recurs to my mind Duveyrier's +tragic phrase, "At the very moment the Colonel was putting his foot in +the stirrup he was felled by a sabre blow." +<a name="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> + Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! +There he is, peacefully smoking his cigarette, a cigarette from the +package that I gave him.... May the Lord forgive me for it.</p> + +<p>The lamp casts a yellow light on the paper. Strange fate, which, I +never knew exactly why, decided one day when I was a lad of sixteen +that I should prepare myself for Saint Cyr, and gave me there André de +Saint-Avit as classmate. I might have studied law or medicine. Then I +should be today a respectable inhabitant of a town with a church and +running water, instead of this cotton-clad phantom, brooding with an +unspeakable anxiety over this desert which is about to swallow me.</p> + +<p>A great insect has flown in through the window. It buzzes, strikes +against the rough cast, rebounds against the globe of the lamp, and +then, helpless, its wings singed by the still burning candle, drops on +the white paper.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 7 -->It is an African May bug, big, black, with spots of livid gray.</p> + +<p>I think of others, its brothers in France, the golden-brown May bugs, +which I have seen on stormy summer evenings projecting themselves like +little particles of the soil of my native countryside. It was there +that as a child I spent my vacations, and later on, my leaves. On my +last leave, through those same meadows, there wandered beside me a +slight form, wearing a thin scarf, because of the evening air, so cool +back there. But now this memory stirs me so slightly that I scarcely +raise my eyes to that dark corner of my room where the light is dimly +reflected by the glass of an indistinct portrait. I realize of how +little consequence has become what had seemed at one time capable of +filling all my life. This plaintive mystery is of no more interest to +me. If the strolling singers of Rolla came to murmur their famous +nostalgic airs under the window of this bordj I know that I should not +listen to them, and if they became insistent I should send them on +their way.</p> + +<p>What has been capable of causing this metamorphosis in me? A story, a +legend, perhaps, told, at any rate by one on whom rests the direst of +suspicions.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has finished his cigarette. I hear him returning +with slow steps to his mat, in barrack B, to the left of the guard +post.</p> + +<p>Our departure being scheduled for the tenth of November, the +manuscript attached to this letter was begun on Sunday, the first, and +finished on Thursday, the fifth of November, 1903.</p> + +<p>OLIVIER FERRIÈRES, Lt. 3rd Spahis.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 8 --> +<h2><a name="I"><!-- Chapter 1 --></a>I</h2> + +<h3>A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Sunday, the sixth of June, 1903, broke the monotony of the life that +we were leading at the Post of Hassi-Inifel by two events of unequal +importance, the arrival of a letter from Mlle. de C——, and the +latest numbers of the Official Journal of the French Republic.</p> + +<p>"I have the Lieutenant's permission?" said Sergeant Chatelain, +beginning to glance through the magazines he had just removed from +their wrappings.</p> + +<p>I acquiesced with a nod, already completely absorbed in reading Mlle. +de C——'s letter.</p> + +<p>"When this reaches you," was the gist of this charming being's letter, +"mama and I will doubtless have left Paris for the country. If, in +your distant parts, it might be a consolation to imagine me as bored +here as you possibly can be, <!-- Page 9 -->make the most of it. The Grand Prix is +over. I played the horse you pointed out to me, and naturally, I lost. +Last night we dined with the Martials de la Touche. Elias Chatrian was +there, always amazingly young. I am sending you his last book, which +has made quite a sensation. It seems that the Martials de la Touche +are depicted there without disguise. I will add to it Bourget's last, +and Loti's, and France's, and two or three of the latest music hall +hits. In the political word, they say the law about congregations will +meet with strenuous opposition. Nothing much in the theatres. I have +taken out a summer subscription for <i>l'Illustration</i>. Would you care +for it? In the country no one knows what to do. Always the same lot of +idiots ready for tennis. I shall deserve no credit for writing to you +often. Spare me your reflections concerning young Combemale. I am less +than nothing of a feminist, having too much faith in those who tell me +that I am pretty, in yourself in particular. But indeed, I grow wild +at the idea that if I permitted myself half the familiarities with one +of our lads that you have surely with your Ouled-Nails.... Enough of +that, it is too unpleasant an idea."</p> + +<p>I had reached this point in the prose of this advanced young woman +when a scandalized exclamation of the Sergeant made me look up.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant!"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"They are up to something at the Ministry. See for yourself."</p> + +<p>He handed me the Official. I read:</p> + +<p>"By a decision of the first of May, 1903, Captain de Saint-Avit +(André), unattached, is assigned to the Third Spahis, and appointed +Commandant of the Post of Hassi-Inifel."</p> + +<p>Chatelain's displeasure became fairly exuberant.</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit, Commandant of the Post. A post which has never +had a slur upon it. They must take us for a dumping ground."</p> + +<p>My surprise was as great as the Sergeant's. But just then I saw the +evil, weasel-like face of Gourrut, the convict we <!-- Page 10 -->used as clerk. He +had stopped his scrawling and was listening with a sly interest.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant, Captain de Saint-Avit is my ranking classmate," I answered +dryly.</p> + +<p>Chatelain saluted, and left the room. I followed.</p> + +<p>"There, there," I said, clapping him on the back, "no hard feelings. +Remember that in an hour we are starting for the oasis. Have the +cartridges ready. It is of the utmost importance to restock the +larder."</p> + +<p>I went back to the office and motioned Gourrut to go. Left alone, I +finished Mlle. de C——'s letter very quickly, and then reread the +decision of the Ministry giving the post a new chief.</p> + +<p>It was now five months that I had enjoyed that distinction, and on my +word, I had accepted the responsibility well enough, and been very +well pleased with the independence. I can even affirm, without taking +too much credit for myself, that under my command discipline had been +better maintained than under Captain Dieulivol, Saint-Avit's +predecessor. A brave man, this Captain Dieulivol, a non-commissioned +officer under Dodds and Duchesne, but subject to a terrible propensity +for strong liquors, and too much inclined, when he had drunk, to +confuse his dialects, and to talk to a Houassa in Sakalave. No one was +ever more sparing of the post water supply. One morning when he was +preparing his absinthe in the presence of the Sergeant, Chatelain, +noticing the Captain's glass, saw with amazement that the green liquor +was blanched by a far stronger admixture of water than usual. He +looked up, aware that something abnormal had just occurred. Rigid, the +carafe inverted in his hand, Captain Dieulivol was spilling the water +which was running over on the sugar. He was dead.</p> + +<p>For six months, since the disappearance of this sympathetic old +tippler, the Powers had not seemed to interest themselves in finding +his successor. I had even hoped at times that a decision might be +reached investing me with the rights that I was in fact exercising.... +And today this surprising appointment.</p> + +<p>Captain de Saint-Avit. He was of my class at St. Cyr. I had lost track +of him. Then my attention had been attracted to <!-- Page 11 -->him by his rapid +advancement, his decoration, the well-deserved recognition of three +particularly daring expeditions of exploration to Tebesti and the Air; +and suddenly, the mysterious drama of his fourth expedition, that +famous mission undertaken with Captain Morhange, from which only one +of the explorers came back. Everything is forgotten quickly in France. +That was at least six years ago. I had not heard Saint-Avit mentioned +since. I had even supposed that he had left the army. And now, I was +to have him as my chief.</p> + +<p>"After all, what's the difference," I mused, "he or another! At school +he was charming, and we have had only the most pleasant relationships. +Besides, I haven't enough yearly income to afford the rank of +Captain."</p> + +<p>And I left the office, whistling as I went.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We were now, Chatelain and I, our guns resting on the already cooling +earth, beside the pool that forms the center of the meager oasis, +hidden behind a kind of hedge of alfa. The setting sun was reddening +the stagnant ditches which irrigate the poor garden plots of the +sedentary blacks.</p> + +<p>Not a word during the approach. Not a word during the shoot. Chatelain +was obviously sulking.</p> + +<p>In silence we knocked down, one after the other, several of the +miserable doves which came on dragging wings, heavy with the heat of +the day, to quench their thirst at the thick green water. When a +half-dozen slaughtered little bodies were lined up at our feet I put +my hand on the Sergeant's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain!"</p> + +<p>He trembled.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, I was rude to you a little while ago. Don't be angry. It +was the bad time before the siesta. The bad time of midday."</p> + +<p>"The Lieutenant is master here," he answered in a tone that was meant +to be gruff, but which was only strained.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, don't be angry. You have something to say to me. You know +what I mean."</p> + +<p>"I don't know really. No, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, Chatelain, why not be sensible? Tell me something about +Captain de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 12 -->I know nothing." He spoke sharply.</p> + +<p>"Nothing? Then what were you saying a little while ago?"</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit is a brave man." He muttered the words with his +head still obstinately bent. "He went alone to Bilma, to the Air, +quite alone to those places where no one had ever been. He is a brave +man."</p> + +<p>"He is a brave man, undoubtedly," I answered with great restraint. +"But he murdered his companion, Captain Morhange, did he not?"</p> + +<p>The old Sergeant trembled.</p> + +<p>"He is a brave man," he persisted.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, you are a child. Are you afraid that I am going to repeat +what you say to your new Captain?"</p> + +<p>I had touched him to the quick. He drew himself up.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant Chatelain is afraid of no one, Lieutenant. He has been at +Abomey, against the Amazons, in a country where a black arm started +out from every bush to seize your leg, while another cut it off for +you with one blow of a cutlass."</p> + +<p>"Then what they say, what you yourself—"</p> + +<p>"That is talk."</p> + +<p>"Talk which is repeated in France, Chatelain, everywhere."</p> + +<p>He bent his head still lower without replying.</p> + +<p>"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?"</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know, +or nothing—"</p> + +<p>"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I +give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you +except on official business."</p> + +<p>Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans—myself, the +Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its +effect.</p> + +<p>"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But +afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a +superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I +overheard at mess."</p> + +<p>"Tell away."</p> + +<p>"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th +Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the +Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth. +The marketing, the accounts, recording <!-- Page 13 -->the library books which were +borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,—for +with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined +at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon +as he was seated, called for silence:</p> + +<p>"'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I +shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the +<i>City of Naples</i> lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit, +recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.'</p> + +<p>"The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to +be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed +ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an +officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and +invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He +pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of +the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit +meant—one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs.</p> + +<p>"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that +perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard.</p> + +<p>"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen, +and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and +the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to +hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an +officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a +comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is +the matter on which I ask your advice.'</p> + +<p>"There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them +suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants. +In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried +not to make the least sound that might recall my presence.</p> + +<p>"'We thank you, Colonel,' one of the majors finally replied, 'for your +courtesy in consulting us. All my comrades, I imagine, know to what +terrible rumors you refer. If I may venture to say so, in Paris at the +Army Geographical Service, where I was before coming here, most of the +officers of the <!-- Page 14 -->highest standing had an opinion on this unfortunate +matter which they avoided stating, but which cast no glory upon +Captain de Saint-Avit.'</p> + +<p>"'I was at Bammako, at the time of the Morhange-Saint-Avit mission,' +said a Captain. 'The opinion of the officers there, I am sorry to say, +differed very little from what the Major describes. But I must add +that they all admitted that they had nothing but suspicions to go on. +And suspicions are certainly not enough considering the atrocity of +the affair.'</p> + +<p>"'They are quite enough, gentlemen,' replied the Colonel, 'to account +for our hesitation. It is not a question of passing judgment; but no +man can sit at our table as a matter of right. It is a privilege based +on fraternal esteem. The only question is whether it is your decision +to accord it to Saint-Avit.'</p> + +<p>"So saying, he looked at the officers, as if he were taking a roll +call. One after another they shook their heads.</p> + +<p>"'I see that we agree,' he said. 'But our task is unfortunately not +yet over. The <i>City of Naples</i> will be in port tomorrow morning. The +launch which meets the passengers leaves at eight o'clock. It will be +necessary, gentlemen, for one of you to go aboard. Captain de +Saint-Avit might be expecting to come to us. We certainly have no +intention of inflicting upon him the humiliation of refusing him, if +he presented himself in expectation of the customary reception. He +must be prevented from coming. It will be wisest to make him +understand that it is best for him to stay aboard.'</p> + +<p>"The Colonel looked at the officers again. They could not but agree. +But how uncomfortable each one looked!</p> + +<p>"'I cannot hope to find a volunteer among you for this kind of +mission, so I am compelled to appoint some one. Captain Grandjean, +Captain de Saint-Avit is also a Captain. It is fitting that it be an +officer of his own rank who carries him our message. Besides, you are +the latest comer here. Therefore it is to you that I entrust this +painful interview. I do not need to suggest that you conduct it as +diplomatically as possible.'</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean bowed, while a sigh of relief escaped from all the +others. As long as the Colonel stayed in the room Grandjean remained +apart, without speaking. It was only after the chief had departed that +he let fall the words: "<!-- Page 15 -->'There are some things that ought to count a +good deal for promotion.'</p> + +<p>"The next day at luncheon everyone was impatient for his return.</p> + +<p>"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table +where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious +for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to +melt, a full glass of absinthe.</p> + +<p>"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on +shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!'</p> + +<p>"The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their +anxious curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water.</p> + +<p>"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I +went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in +the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I +could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to +go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench +and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented +myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed +somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed +something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near +the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say? +How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows +on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then, +of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at +me coolly and said:</p> + +<p>"'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much +trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no +intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having +made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you +must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by +the vessel.'</p> + +<p>"Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the +cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that <!-- Page 16 -->we had mutual +acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant +look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't +know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of +the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion. +Such a man, capable of such a crime,—believe me, it is not possible.</p> + +<p>"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I +have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried +through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of +depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this +complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the +<i>City of Naples</i>, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a +league from shore.</p> + +<p>"She was still there in the evening when they assembled for dinner, +and it was not until a blast of the whistle, followed by curls of +smoke escaping from the red and black smokestack had announced the +departure of the vessel for Gabes, that conversation was resumed; and +even then, less gaily than usual.</p> + +<p>"After that, Lieutenant, at the Officers' Club at Sfax, they avoided +like the plague any subject which risked leading the conversation back +to Captain de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the +desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we +had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once +more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds +were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked +the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so +that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj."</p> + +<p>Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me +reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the +time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to +break our desolate silence with a single word.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 17 -->The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which +surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but +already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had +disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the +sky.</p> + +<p>When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the stables," he said.</p> + +<p>I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the +Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible +sadness weighed upon me.</p> + +<p>I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must +be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed, +their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station."</p> + +<p>The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams +of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered.</p> + +<p>A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His +back was toward me. He did not hear me enter.</p> + +<p>"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make +yourself completely at home."</p> + +<p>The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very +pale.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Ferrières, is it not?"</p> + +<p>He advanced, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow."</p> + +<p>At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the +little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want +of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at +Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were +you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I +found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie. +We will change all that, I hope. At ease."</p> + +<p>"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while <!-- Page 18 -->Chatelain +remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was +with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the +post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every +point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival—"</p> + +<p>"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant, +I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences +which attach to your office. He is not obliged to know that the +officer who abandons a post like Hassi-Inifel, if it is only for two +hours, risks not finding much left on his return. The Chaamba +brigands, my dear sir, love firearms, and for the sake of the sixty +muskets in your racks, I am sure they would not scruple to make an +officer, whose otherwise excellent record is well known to me, account +for his absence to a court-martial. Come with me, if you please. We +will finish the little inspection I began too rapidly a little while +ago."</p> + +<p>He was already on the stairs. I followed in his footsteps. Chatelain +closed the order of march. I heard him murmuring, in a tone which you +can imagine:</p> + +<p>"Well, we are in for it now!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="II"><!-- Chapter 2 --></a>II</h2> + +<h3>CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>A few days sufficed to convince us that Chatelain's fears as to our +official relations with the new chief were vain. Often I have thought +that by the severity he showed at our first encounter Saint-Avit +wished to create a formal barrier, to show us that he knew how to keep +his head high in spite of the weight of his heavy past. Certain it is +that the day after his arrival, he showed himself in a very different +light, even complimenting the Sergeant on the upkeep of the post and +the instruction of the men. To me he was charming.</p> + +<p>"We are of the same class, aren't we?" he said to me. "I <!-- Page 19 -->don't have +to ask you to dispense with formalities, it is your right."</p> + +<p>Vain marks of confidence, alas! False witnesses to a freedom of +spirit, one in face of the other. What more accessible in appearance +than the immense Sahara, open to all those who are willing to be +engulfed by it? Yet what is more secret? After six months of +companionship, of communion of life such as only a Post in the South +offers, I ask myself if the most extraordinary of my adventures is not +to be leaving to-morrow, toward unsounded solitudes, with a man whose +real thoughts are as unknown to me as these same solitudes, for which +he has succeeded in making me long.</p> + +<p>The first surprise which was given me by this singular companion was +occasioned by the baggage that followed him.</p> + +<p>On his inopportune arrival, alone, from Wargla, he had trusted to the +Mehari he rode only what can be carried without harm by such a +delicate beast,—his arms, sabre and revolver, a heavy carbine, and a +very reduced pack. The rest did not arrive till fifteen days later, +with the convoy which supplied the post.</p> + +<p>Three cases of respectable dimensions were carried one after another +to the Captain's room, and the grimaces of the porters said enough as +to their weight.</p> + +<p>I discreetly left Saint-Avit to his unpacking and began opening the +mail which the convoy had sent me.</p> + +<p>He returned to the office a little later and glanced at the several +reviews which I had just recieved.</p> + +<p>"So," he said. "You take these."</p> + +<p>He skimmed through, as he spoke, the last number of the <i>Zeitschrift +der Gesellschaft fur Erdkunde in Berlin</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "These gentlemen are kind enough to interest +themselves in my works on the geology of the Wadi Mia and the high +Igharghar."</p> + +<p>"That may be useful to me," he murmured, continuing to turn over the +leaves.</p> + +<p>"It's at your service."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you in ex<!-- Page 20 -->change, except +Pliny, perhaps. And still—you know what he said of Igharghar, +according to King Juba. However, come help me put my traps in place +and you will see if anything appeals to you."</p> + +<p>I accepted without further urging.</p> + +<p>We commenced by unearthing various meteorological and astronomical +instruments—the thermometers of Baudin, Salleron, Fastre, an aneroid, +a Fortin barometer, chronometers, a sextant, an astronomical spyglass, +a compass glass.... In short, what Duveyrier calls the material that +is simplest and easiest to transport on a camel.</p> + +<p>As Saint-Avit handed them to me I arranged them on the only table in +the room.</p> + +<p>"Now," he announced to me, "there is nothing more but books. I will +pass them to you. Pile them up in a corner until I can have a +book-shelf made."</p> + +<p>For two hours altogether I helped him to heap up a real library. And +what a library! Such as never before a post in the South had seen. All +the texts consecrated, under whatever titles, by antiquity to the +regions of the Sahara were reunited between the four rough-cast walls +of that little room of the bordj. Herodotus and Pliny, naturally, and +likewise Strabo and Ptolemy, Pomponius Mela, and Ammien Marcellin. But +besides these names which reassured my ignorance a little, I perceived +those of Corippus, of Paul Orose, of Eratosthenes, of Photius, of +Diodorus of Sicily, of Solon, of Dion Cassius, of Isidor of Seville, +of Martin de Tyre, of Ethicus, of Athenée, the <i>Scriptores Historiae +Augustae</i>, the <i>Itinerarium Antonini Augusti</i>, the <i>Geographi Latini +Minores</i> of Riese, the <i>Geographi Graeci Minores</i> of Karl Muller.... +Since I have had the occasion to familiarize myself with Agatarchides +of Cos and Artemidorus of Ephesus, but I admit that in this instance +the presence of their dissertations in the saddle bags of a captain of +cavalry caused me some amazement.</p> + +<p>I mention further the <i>Descrittione dell' Africa</i> by Leon l'African, +the <i>Arabian Histories</i> of Ibn-Khaldoun, of Al-Iaquob, of El-Bekri, of +Ibn-Batoutah, of Mahommed El-Tounsi.... In the midst of this Babel, I +remember the names <!-- Page 21 -->of only two volumes of contemporary French +scholars. There were also the laborious theses of +Berlioux<a name="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> and of +Schirmer.<a name="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4"><sup>[4]</sup></a></p> + +<p>While I proceeded to make piles of as similar dimensions as possible I +kept saying to myself:</p> + +<p>"To think that I have been believing all this time that in his mission +with Morhange, Saint-Avit was particularly concerned in scientific +observations. Either my memory deceives me strangely or he is riding a +horse of another color. What is sure is that there is nothing for me +in the midst of all this chaos."</p> + +<p>He must have read on my face the signs of too apparently expressed +surprise, for he said in a tone in which I divined a tinge of +defiance:</p> + +<p>"The choice of these books surprises you a bit?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say it surprises me," I replied, "since I don't know the +nature of the work for which you have collected them. In any case I +dare say, without fear of being contradicted, that never before has +officer of the Arabian Office possessed a library in which the +humanities were so, well represented."</p> + +<p>He smiled evasively, and that day we pursued the subject no further.</p> + +<p>Among Saint-Avit's books I had noticed a voluminous notebook secured +by a strong lock. Several times I surprised him in the act of making +notations in it. When for any reason he was called out of the room he +placed his album carefully in a small cabinet of white wood, provided +by the munificence of the Administration. When he was not writing and +the office did not require his presence, he had the mehari which he +had brought with him saddled, and a few minutes later, from the +terrace of the fortifications, I could see the double silhouette +disappearing with great strides behind a hummock of red earth on the +horizon.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 22 -->Each time these trips lasted longer. From each he returned in a kind +of exaltation which made me watch him with daily increasing +disquietude during meal hours, the only time we passed quite alone +together.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said to myself one day when his remarks had been more +lacking in sequence than usual, "it's no fun being aboard a submarine +when the captain takes opium. What drug can this fellow be taking, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>Next day I looked hurriedly through my comrade's drawers. This +inspection, which I believed to be my duty, reassured me momentarily. +"All very good," I thought, "provided he does not carry with him his +capsules and his Pravaz syringe."</p> + +<p>I was still in that stage where I could suppose that André's +imagination needed artificial stimulants.</p> + +<p>Meticulous observation undeceived me. There was nothing suspicious in +this respect. Moreover, he rarely drank and almost never smoked.</p> + +<p>And nevertheless, there was no means of denying the increase of his +disquieting feverishness. He returned from his expeditions each time +with his eyes more brilliant. He was paler, more animated, more +irritable.</p> + +<p>One evening he left the post about six o'clock, at the end of the +greatest heat of the day. We waited for him all night. My anxiety was +all the stronger because quite recently caravans had brought tidings +of bands of robbers in the neighborhood of the post.</p> + +<p>At dawn he had not returned. He did not come before midday. His camel +collapsed under him, rather than knelt.</p> + +<p>He realized that he must excuse himself, but he waited till we were +alone at lunch.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry to have caused you any anxiety. But the dunes were so +beautiful under the moon! I let myself be carried farther and +farther...."</p> + +<p>"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the +chief here. Only allow me to recall to you certain warnings concerning +the Chaamba brigands, and the misfortunes that might arise from a +Commandant of a post absenting himself too long."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 23 -->He smiled.</p> + +<p>"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply.</p> + +<p>He was in excellent, too excellent spirits.</p> + +<p>"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon +rose. And then, I recognized the country. It is just where, twenty +years ago next November, Flatters followed the way to his destiny in +an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made keener and +more intense."</p> + +<p>"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he +did ... even to dying of it."</p> + +<p>"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I +answered. "But they were alone when they exposed themselves to it. +Responsible only for their own lives, they were free. Flatters, on the +other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you cannot deny that +he allowed his whole party to be massacred."</p> + +<p>The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I +thought of Chatelain's story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where +they avoided like the plague any kind of conversation which might lead +their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit mission.</p> + +<p>Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant +eyes were far away.</p> + +<p>"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Auxonne."</p> + +<p>He gave an unnatural laugh.</p> + +<p>"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand +inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's +wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every +Sunday,—the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon. +That explains your Judgment of Flatters.</p> + +<p>"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I +arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged +twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black +sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the <!-- Page 24 --><i>bagnards</i> say in speaking of their +grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had +begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see +those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at +their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands +and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had +plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three +or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that +same evening for Berroughia.</p> + +<p>"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway +stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get +to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat. +When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage, +straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of +the outlying desert.</p> + +<p>"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road +embankment, overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume +of oleander, we changed horses. They had there a troop of convicts and +impressed laborers, under escort of riflemen and convoys to the +quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the jails of +Algiers and Douara,—without arms, of course; the others +civilians—such civilians! this year's recruits, the young bullies of +the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or.</p> + +<p>"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From +a distance I saw in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black +irregular mass of the convoy. Then I heard a weary dirge; the wretches +were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the couplet, +which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'<i>Maintenant qu'elle est grande</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elle fait le trottoir</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Avec ceux de la bande</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>A Richard-Lenoir</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain:</p> +<!-- Page 25 --> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'<i>A la Bastille, a la Bastille</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>On aime bien, on aime bien</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>Nini Peau d'Chien</i>;<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elle est si belle et si gentille</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;"><i>A la Bastille</i>'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. +They were terrible. Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone +with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven faces. The burning dust +strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness +took possession of me.</p> + +<p>"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained +my self-control.</p> + +<p>"'Further, much further South,' I exclaimed to myself, 'to the places +untouched by this miserable bilgewater of civilization.'</p> + +<p>"When I am weary, when I have a moment of anguish and longing to turn +back on the road that I have chosen, I think of the prisoners of +Berroughia, and then I am glad to continue on my way.</p> + +<p>"But what a reward, when I am in one of those places where the poor +animals never think of fleeing because they have never seen man, where +the desert stretches out around me so widely that the old world could +crumble, and never a single ripple on the dune, a single cloud in the +white sky come to warn me.</p> + +<p>"'It is true,' I murmured. 'I, too, once, in the middle of the desert, +at Tidi-Kelt, I felt that way.'"</p> + +<p>Up to that time I had let him enjoy his exaltations without +interruption. I understood too late the error that I had made in +pronouncing that unfortunate sentence.</p> + +<p>His mocking nervous laughter began anew.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Indeed, at Tidi-Kelt? I beg you, old man, in your own interest, +if you don't want to make an ass of yourself, avoid that species of +reminiscence. Honestly, you make me think of Fromentin, or that poor +Maupassant, who talked of the desert because he had been to Djelfa, +two days' journey from the street of Bab-Azound and the Government +buildings, four days from the Avenue de l'Opera;—and who, because he +saw a poor devil of a camel dying near Bou-Saada, be<!-- Page 26 -->lieved himself in +the heart of the desert, on the old route of the caravans.... +Tidi-Kelt, the desert!"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, however, that In-Salah—" I said, a little vexed.</p> + +<p>"In-Salah? Tidi-Kelt! But, my poor friend, the last time that I passed +that way there were as many old newspapers and empty sardine boxes as +if it had been Sunday in the Wood of Vincennes."</p> + +<p>Such a determined, such an evident desire to annoy me made me forget +my reserve.</p> + +<p>"Evidently," I replied resentfully, "I have never been to—"</p> + +<p>I stopped myself, but it was already too late.</p> + +<p>He looked at me, squarely in the face.</p> + +<p>"To where?" he said with good humor.</p> + +<p>I did not answer.</p> + +<p>"To where?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>And, as I remained strangled in my muteness:</p> + +<p>"To Wadi Tarhit, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>It was on the east bank of Wadi Tarhit, a hundred and twenty +kilometers from Timissao, at 25.5 degrees north latitude, according to +the official report, that Captain Morhange was buried.</p> + +<p>"André," I cried stupidly, "I swear to you—"</p> + +<p>"What do you swear to me?"</p> + +<p>"That I never meant—"</p> + +<p>"To speak of Wadi Tarhit? Why? Why should you not speak to me of Wadi +Tarhit?"</p> + +<p>In answer to my supplicating silence, he merely shrugged his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," was all he said.</p> + +<p>And he left me before I could think of even one word to say.</p> + +<p>So much humility on my part had, however, not disarmed him. I had the +proof of it the next day, and the way he showed his humor was even +marked by an exhibition of wretchedly poor taste.</p> + +<p>I was just out of bed when he came into my room.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>He had in his hand one of the official registers. In his <!-- Page 27 -->nervous +crises he always began sorting them over, in the hope of finding some +pretext for making himself militarily insupportable.</p> + +<p>This time chance had favored him.</p> + +<p>He opened the register. I blushed violently at seeing the poor proof +of a photograph that I knew well.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" he repeated disdainfully.</p> + +<p>Too often I had surprised him in the act of regarding, none too +kindly, the portrait of Mlle. de C. which hung in my room not to be +convinced at that moment that he was trying to pick a quarrel with me.</p> + +<p>I controlled myself, however, and placed the poor little print in the +drawer.</p> + +<p>But my calmness did not pacify him.</p> + +<p>"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of +your gallantry with the official papers."</p> + +<p>He added, with a smile that spoke insult:</p> + +<p>"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut."</p> + +<p>"André," I said, and I was white, "I demand—"</p> + +<p>He stood up to the full height of his stature.</p> + +<p>"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to +speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should +think—"</p> + +<p>"André!"</p> + +<p>Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the +replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene.</p> + +<p>"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves +you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?"</p> + +<p>And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, +humming the shameful refrain of the previous night:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"<i>A la Bastille, a la Bastille</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>On aime bien, on aime bien</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Nini, Peau de Chien</i>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>For three days neither of us spoke to the other. My ex<!-- Page 28 -->asperation was +too deep for words. Was I, then, to be held responsible for his +avatars! Was it my fault if, between two phrases, one seemed always +some allusion—</p> + +<p>"The situation is intolerable," I said to myself. "It cannot last +longer."</p> + +<p>It was to cease very soon.</p> + +<p>One week after the scene of the photograph the courier arrived. I had +scarcely glanced at the index of the <i>Zeitschrift</i>, the German review +of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable +amazement. I had just read: <i>"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei +fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de +Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."</i></p> + +<p>At the same time I heard my comrade's voice.</p> + +<p>"Anything interesting in this number?"</p> + +<p>"No," I answered carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Let's see."</p> + +<p>I obeyed; what else was there to do?</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However, +his tone was altogether natural when he said:</p> + +<p>"You will let me borrow it, of course?"</p> + +<p>And he went out, casting me one defiant glance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was +gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me.</p> + +<p>When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade +of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness +was already encroaching upon from the east.</p> + +<p>André broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is +not interesting."</p> + +<p>His expression was one of supreme amusement.</p> + +<p>"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching.</p> + +<p>"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>I looked at him with an expression of supplication.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more.</p> + +<p>Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia <!-- Page 29 -->was still +yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping +sharply.</p> + +<p>"The <i>dib</i> is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said +Saint-Avit.</p> + +<p>He continued pitilessly:</p> + +<p>"Then you aren't willing to say anything?"</p> + +<p>I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase:</p> + +<p>"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy—You don't feel +like yourself, you don't know any more—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy, +heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain +Morhange."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="III"><!-- Chapter 3 --></a>III</h2> + +<h3>THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"So I killed Captain Morhange," André de Saint-Avit said to me the +next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took +no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through. +"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the +desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that +confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it +may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the +present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again, +that I killed Captain Morhange.</p> + +<p>"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you +understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a +romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner +of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics +would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much +I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will +find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my <!-- Page 30 -->peace of +mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word, +apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black +ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge +of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my +life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my +companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"This being understood, here are the facts:</p> + +<p>It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that +I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me +the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult +times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat, +where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been +concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies. +Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and +at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The +Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its +occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was +Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of +Germany, and above all because of a certain <i>Declaration of the Rights +of Man and of the Citizen</i>, which prescribed that insurrection is the +most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut +your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own +discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts; +this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort +Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with +bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat. +Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the +necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way +would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that +were being woven there against us.</p> + +<p>The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able +chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his +confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in +the Tibesti. They had, I say <i>they</i> through modesty, the idea of +ascertaining the traces left <!-- Page 31 -->by these agitators on their favorite +places of concourse; Rhât, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and +In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin, +practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General +Rohlfs.</p> + +<p>I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to +Agadès, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff +officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I +was therefore selected to assume this new task.</p> + +<p>I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with +one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so +as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have +as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they +combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded +the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After +reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin, +instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhât, I would, +penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off +to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again +northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agadès. In +all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven +hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an +examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis +of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at +Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at +all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the +geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier +and the others are so disappointingly indefinite.</p> + +<p>Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which +is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's +(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through +the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a +machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry +provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken +pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells.</p> + +<p>Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with <!-- Page 32 -->a hundred +regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and René +Callie, I go alone.</p> + +<p>I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me +to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure +until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his +expedition of exploration."</p> + +<p>I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this +expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make +the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea +of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the +desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a +superior.</p> + +<p>The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor.</p> + +<p>The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following +information:</p> + +<p>"Morhange (Jean-Marie-François), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain, +unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)"</p> + +<p>"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of +their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have +had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The +theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here."</p> + +<p>"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in +Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of +Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat. +And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army +Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament, +governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an +amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial +Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in +office, when it is not actually in spite of them."</p> + +<p>"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly; +"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along +the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much +time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 33 -->Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from +Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The +indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone."</p> + +<p>Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the +convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked.</p> + +<p>When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as +the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I +would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him.</p> + +<p>He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small +black moustache, and hair that was already white.</p> + +<p>"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said +immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man. +"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and +delaying your departure."</p> + +<p>"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly.</p> + +<p>"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your +knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I +wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction +and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me +with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable +institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to +re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth +century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla, +Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of +restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the +Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking. +From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I +must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have +ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on +Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental +Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to +ask for directions whether to <!-- Page 34 -->turn right or left. This is the only +chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time +put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a +companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my +influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when +I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have +said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered +essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to +the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each +other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations, +all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a +friend as well."</p> + +<p>All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst +recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean +desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of +my company at a distance, without consulting me.</p> + +<p>"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering +words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?"</p> + +<p>He made a gesture of complete detachment.</p> + +<p>"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed +you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time."</p> + +<p>My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting +on leaving before the next week.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?"</p> + +<p>He smiled delightfully.</p> + +<p>"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some +papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the +rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla."</p> + +<p>I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such +freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me.</p> + +<p>"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought +us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably +charming fellow."</p> + +<p>"Remarkably."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 35 -->You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to +see that later on he doesn't get all the glory."</p> + +<p>"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively.</p> + +<p>I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment +I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence +persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, +everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife:</p> + +<p>"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it."</p> + +<p>I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening....</p> + +<p>After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the +places where there are no more men who think and reason.</p> + +<p>Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming +over this new acquaintanceship.</p> + +<p>He presented him enthusiastically:</p> + +<p>"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man +after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, +but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea +before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to +give us."</p> + +<p>"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied +Morhange, with a quiet smile.</p> + +<p>The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter +rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the +newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have +I felt so sad.</p> + +<p>The time came to pass into the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"At my right, Captain," cried the Major, more and more beaming. "And I +hope you will keep on giving us these new lines on Paris. We are not +up with the times here, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yours to command, Major," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>The officers obeyed, with a joyous clatter of moving chairs. I had not +taken my eyes off Morhange, who was still standing.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 36 -->Major, gentlemen, you will allow me," he said.</p> + +<p>And before sitting down at that table, where every moment he was the +life of the party, in a low voice, with his eyes closed, Captain +Morhange recited the Benedicite.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="IV"><!-- Chapter 4 --></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>TOWARDS LATITUDE 25</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"You see," said Captain Morhange to me fifteen days later, "you are +much better informed about the ancient routes through the Sahara than +you have been willing to let me suppose, since you know of the +existence of the two Tadekkas. But the one of which you have just +spoken is the Tadekka of Ibn-Batoutah, located by this historian +seventy days from Touat, and placed by Schirmer, very plausibly, in +the unexplored territory of the Aouelimmiden. This is the Tadekka by +which the Sonrhaï caravans passed every year, travelling by Egypt.</p> + +<p>"My Tadekka is different, the capital of the veiled people, placed by +Ibn-Khaldoun twenty days south of Wargla, which he calls Tadmekka. It +is towards this Tadmekka that I am headed. I must establish Tadmekka +in the ruins of Es-Souk. The commercial trade route, which in the +ninth century bound the Tunisian Djerid to the bend the Niger makes at +Bourroum, passed by Es-Souk. It is to study the possibility of +reestablishing this ancient thoroughfare that the Ministries gave me +this mission, which has given me the pleasure of your companionship."</p> + +<p>"You are probably in for a disappointment," I said. "Everything +indicates that the commerce there is very slight."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall see," he answered composedly.</p> + +<p>This was while we were following the unicolored banks of a salt lake. +The great saline stretch shone pale-blue, under the rising sun. The +legs of our five mehara cast on it their moving shadows of a darker +blue. For a moment the only inhabitant of these solitudes, a bird, a +kind of indeterminate <!-- Page 37 -->heron, rose and hung in the air, as if +suspended from a thread, only to sink back to rest as soon as we had +passed.</p> + +<p>I led the way, selecting the route, Morhange followed. Enveloped in a +bernous, his head covered with the straight <i>chechia</i> of the Spahis, a +great chaplet of alternate red and white beads, ending in a cross, +around his neck, he realized perfectly the ideal of Father Lavigerie's +White Fathers.</p> + +<p>After a two-days' halt at Temassinin we had just left the road +followed by Flatters, and taken an oblique course to the south. I have +the honor of having antedated Fourcau in demonstrating the importance +of Temassinin as a geometrical point for the passage of caravans, and +of selecting the place where Captain Pein has just now constructed a +fort. The junction for the roads that lead to Touat from Fezzan and +Tibesti, Temassinin is the future seat of a marvellous Intelligence +Department. What I had collected there in two days about the +disposition of our Senoussis enemies was of importance. I noticed that +Morhange let me proceed with my inquiries with complete indifference.</p> + +<p>These two days he had passed in conversation with the old Negro +guardian of the turbet, which preserves, under its plaster dome, the +remains of the venerated Sidi-Moussa. The confidences they exchanged, +I am sorry to say that I have forgotten. But from the Negro's amazed +admiration, I realized the ignorance in which I stood to the mysteries +of the desert, and how familiar they were to my companion.</p> + +<p>And if you want to get any idea of the extraordinary originality which +Morhange introduced into such surroundings, you who, after all, have a +certain familiarity with the tropics, listen to this. It was exactly +two hundred kilometers from here, in the vicinity of the Great Dune, +in that horrible stretch of six days without water. We had just enough +for two days before reaching the next well, and you know these wells; +as Flatters wrote to his wife, "you have to work for hours before you +can clean them out and succeed in watering beasts and men." By chance +we met a caravan there, which was going east towards Rhadamès, and had +come too far north. The camels' humps, shrunken and shaking, bespoke +the sufferings of the troop. Behind came a little gray ass, a pitiful +burrow, interfering at every step, and lightened <!-- Page 38 -->of its pack because +the merchants knew that it was going to die. Instinctively, with its +last strength, it followed, knowing that when it could stagger no +longer, the end would come and the flutter of the bald vultures' +wings. I love animals, which I have solid reasons for preferring to +men. But never should I have thought of doing what Morhange did then. +I tell you that our water skins were almost dry, and that our own +camels, without which one is lost in the empty desert, had not been +watered for many hours. Morhange made his kneel, uncocked a skin, and +made the little ass drink. I certainly felt gratification at seeing +the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But +the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast +expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. +I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied +Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about +six o'clock. Between here and there I know that I shall not be +thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed +the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, +ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and +Bou-Djema's, are at his service." But I did not yet know Morhange very +well, and it is true that until the evening of the next day when we +reached El-Biodh, refusing our offers with smiling determination, he +drank nothing.</p> + +<p>Shades of St. Francis of Assisi! Umbrian hills, so pure under the +rising sun! It was in the light of a like sunrise, by the border of a +pale stream leaping in full cascades from a crescent-shaped niche of +the gray rocks of Egere, that Morhange stopped. The unlooked for +waters rolled upon the sand, and we saw, in the light which mirrored +them, little black fish. Fish in the middle of the Sahara! All three +of us were mute before this paradox of Nature. One of them had strayed +into a little channel of sand. He had to stay there, struggling in +vain, his little white belly exposed to the air.... Morhange picked +him up, looked at him for a moment, and put him back into the little +stream. Shades of St. Francis. Umbrian hills.... But I have sworn not +<!-- Page 39 -->to break the thread of the story by these untimely digressions.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"You see," Captain Morhange said to me a week later, "that I was right +in advising you to go farther south before making for Shikh-Salah. +Something told me that this highland of Egere was not interesting from +your point of view. While here you have only to stoop to pick up +pebbles which will allow you to establish the volcanic origin of this +region much more certainly than Bou-Derba, des Cloizeaux, and Doctor +Marrés have done."</p> + +<p>This was while we were following the western pass of the Tidifest +Mountains, about the 25th degree of northern latitude.</p> + +<p>"I should indeed be ungrateful not to thank you," I said.</p> + +<p>I shall always remember that instant. We had left our camels and were +collecting fragments of the most characteristic rocks. Morhange +employed himself with a discernment which spoke worlds for his +knowledge of geology, a science he had often professed complete +ignorance of.</p> + +<p>Then I asked him the following question:</p> + +<p>"May I prove my gratitude by making you a confession?"</p> + +<p>He raised his head and looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Well then, I don't see the practical value of this trip you have +undertaken."</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"Why not? To explore the old caravan route, to demonstrate that a +connection has existed from the most ancient times between the +Mediterranean world, and the country of the Blacks, that seems nothing +in your eyes? The hope of settling once for all the secular disputes +which have divided so many keen minds; d'Anville, Heeren, Berlioux, +Quatremere on the one hand,—on the other Gosselin, Walckenaer, +Tissit, Vivien, de saint-Martin; you think that that is devoid of +interest? A plague upon you for being hard to please."</p> + +<p>"I spoke of practical value," I said. "You won't deny that this +controversy is only the affair of cabinet geographers and office +explorers."</p> + +<p>Morhange kept on smiling.</p> + +<p>"Dear friend, don't wither me. Deign to recall that your <!-- Page 40 -->mission was +confided to you by the Ministry of War, while I hold mine on behalf of +the Ministry of Public Instruction. A different origin justifies our +different aims. It certainly explains, I readily concede that to you, +why what I am in search of has no practical value."</p> + +<p>"You are also authorized by the Ministry of Commerce," I replied, +playing my next card. "By this chief you are instructed to study the +possibility of restoring the old trade route of the ninth century. But +on this point don't attempt to mislead me; with your knowledge of the +history and geography of the Sahara, your mind must have been made up +before you left Paris. The road from Djerid to the Niger is dead, +stone dead. You knew that no important traffic would pass by this +route before you undertook to study the possibility of restoring it."</p> + +<p>Morhange looked me full in the face.</p> + +<p>"And if that should be so," he said with the most charming attitude, +"if I had before leaving the conviction you say, what do you conclude +from that?"</p> + +<p>"I should prefer to have you tell me."</p> + +<p>"Simply, my dear boy, that I had less skill than you in finding the +pretext for my voyage, that I furnished less good reasons for the true +motives that brought me here."</p> + +<p>"A pretext? I don't see...."</p> + +<p>"Be sincere in your turn, if you please. I am sure that you have the +greatest desire to inform the Arabian Office about the practices of +the Senoussis. But admit that the information that you will obtain is +not the sole and innermost aim of your excursion. You are a geologist, +my friend. You have found a chance to gratify your taste in this trip. +No one would think of blaming you because you have known how to +reconcile what is useful to your country and agreeable to yourself. +But, for the love of God, don't deny it; I need no other proof than +your presence here on this side of the Tidifest, a very curious place +from a mineralogical point of view, but some hundred and fifty +kilometers south of your official route."</p> + +<p>It was not possible to have countered me with a better grace. I +parried by attacking.</p> + +<p>"Am I to conclude from all this that I do not know the <!-- Page 41 -->real aims of +your trip, and that they have nothing to do with the official +motives?"</p> + +<p>I had gone a bit too far. I felt it from the seriousness with which +Morhange's reply was delivered.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear friend, you must not conclude just that. I should have no +taste for a lie which was based on fraud towards the estimable +constitutional bodies which have judged me worthy of their confidence +and their support. The ends that they have assigned to me I shall do +my best to attain. But I have no reason for hiding from you that there +is another, quite personal, which is far nearer to my heart. Let us +say, if you will, to use a terminology that is otherwise deplorable, +that this is the end while the others are the means."</p> + +<p>"Would there be any indiscretion?...."</p> + +<p>"None," replied my companion. "Shikh-Salah is only a few days distant. +He whose first steps you have guided with such solicitude in the +desert should have nothing hidden from you."</p> + +<p>We had halted in the valley of a little dry well where a few sickly +plants were growing. A spring near by was circled by a crown of gray +verdure. The camels had been unsaddled for the night, and were seeking +vainly, at every stride, to nibble the spiny tufts of <i>had</i>. The black +and polished sides of the Tidifest Mountains rose, almost vertically, +above our heads. Already the blue smoke of the fire on which Bou-Djema +was cooking dinner rose through the motionless air.</p> + +<p>Not a sound, not a breath. The smoke mounted straight, straight and +slowly up the pale steps of the firmament.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the <i>Atlas of Christianity</i>?" asked Morhange.</p> + +<p>"I think so. Isn't it a geographical work published by the +Benedictines under the direction of a certain Dom Granger?"</p> + +<p>"Your memory is correct," said Morhange. "Even so let me explain a +little more fully some of the things you have not had as much reason +as I to interest yourself in. The <i>Atlas of Christianity</i> proposes to +establish the boundaries of that great tide of Christianity through +all the ages, and for all parts of the globe. An undertaking worthy of +the Benedictine <!-- Page 42 -->learning, worthy of such a prodigy of erudition as +Dom Granger himself."</p> + +<p>"And it is these boundaries that you have come to determine here, no +doubt," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"Just so," replied my companion.</p> + +<p>He was silent, and I respected his silence, prepared by now to be +astonished at nothing.</p> + +<p>"It is not possible to give confidences by halves, without being +ridiculous," he continued after several minutes of meditation, +speaking gravely, in a voice which held no suggestion of that flashing +humor which had a month before enchanted the young officers at Wargla. +"I have begun on mine. I will tell you everything. Trust my +discretion, however, and do not insist upon certain events of my +private life. If, four years ago, at the close of these events, I +resolve to enter a monastery, it does not concern you to know my +reasons. I can marvel at it myself, that the passage in my life of a +being absolutely devoid of interest should have sufficed to change the +current of that life. I can marvel that a creature whose sole merit +was her beauty should have been permitted by the Creator to swing my +destiny to such an unforeseen direction. The monastery at whose doors +I knocked had the most valid reasons for doubting the stability of my +vocation. What the world loses in such fashion it often calls back as +readily. In short, I cannot blame the Father Abbot for having +forbidden me to apply for my army discharge. By his instructions, I +asked for, and obtained, permission to be placed on the inactive list +for three years. At the end of those three years of consecration it +would be seen whether the world was definitely dead to your servant.</p> + +<p>"The first day of my arrival at the cloister I was assigned to Dom +Granger, and placed by him at work on the <i>Atlas of Christianity</i>. A +brief examination decided him as to what kind of service I was best +fitted to render. This is how I came to enter the studio devoted to +the cartography of Northern Africa. I did not know one word of Arabic, +but it happened that in garrison at Lyon I had taken at the <i>Faculté +des Lettres,</i> a course with Berlioux,—a very erudite geographer no +doubt, but obsessed by one idea, the influence the Greek and Roman +civilizations had exercised on Africa. This detail <!-- Page 43 -->of my life was +enough for Dom Granger. He provided me straightway with Berber +vocabularies by Venture, by Delaporte, by Brosselard; with the +<i>Grammatical Sketch of the Temahaq</i> by Stanley Fleeman, and the <i>Essai +de Grammaire de la langue Temachek</i> by Major Hanoteau. At the end of +three months I was able to decipher any inscriptions in Tifinar. You +know that Tifinar is the national writing of the Tuareg, the +expression of this Temachek language which seems to us the most +curious protest of the Targui race against its Mohammedan enemies.</p> + +<p>"Dom Granger, in fact, believed that the Tuareg are Christians, dating +from a period which it was necessary to ascertain, but which coincided +no doubt with the splendor of the church of Hippon. Even better than +I, you know that the cross is with them the symbol of fate in +decoration. Duveyrier has claimed that it figures in their alphabet, +on their arms, among the designs of their clothes. The only tattooing +that they wear on the forehead, on the back of the hand, is a cross +with four equal branches; the pummels of their saddles, the handles of +their sabres, of their poignards, are cross-shaped. And is it +necessary to remind you that, although Islam forbids bells as a sign +of Christianity, the harness of Tuareg camels are trimmed with bells?</p> + +<p>"Neither Dom Granger nor I attach an exaggerated importance to such +proofs, which resemble too much those which make such a display in the +<i>Genius of Christianity.</i> But it is indeed impossible to refuse all +credence to certain theological arguments. Amanai, the God of the +Tuareg, unquestionably the Adonai of the Bible, is unique. They have a +hell, 'Timsi-tan-elekhaft,' the last fire, where reigns Iblis, our +Lucifer. Their Paradise, where they are rewarded for good deeds, is +inhabited by 'andjelousen,' our angels. And do not urge the +resemblance of this theology to the Koran, for I will meet you with +historic arguments and remind you that the Tuareg have struggled all +through the ages at the cost of partial extermination, to maintain +their faith against the encroachments of Mohammedan fanaticism.</p> + +<p>"Many times I have studied with Dom Granger that formidable epoch when +the aborigines opposed the conquering Arabs. With him I have seen how +the army of Sidi-<!-- Page 44 -->Okba, one of the companions of the Prophet, invaded +this desert to reduce the Tuareg tribes and impose on them Mussulman +rules. These tribes were then rich and prosperous. They were the +Ihbggaren, the Imededren, the Ouadelen, the Kel-Gueress, the Kel-Air. +But internal quarrels sapped their strength. Still, it was not until +after a long and cruel war that the Arabians succeeded in getting +possession of the capital of the Berbers, which had proved such a +redoubtable stronghold. They destroyed it after they had massacred the +inhabitants. On the ruins Okba constructed a new city. This city is +Es-Souk. The one that Sidi-Okba destroyed was the Berber Tadmekka. +What Dom Granger asked of me was precisely that I should try to exhume +from the ruins of the Mussulman Es-Souk the ruins of Tadmekka, which +was Berber, and perhaps Christian."</p> + +<p>"I understand," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"So far, so good," said Morhange. "But what you must grasp now is the +practical sense of these religious men, my masters. You remember that, +even after three years of monastic life, they preserved their doubts +as to the stability of my vocation. They found at the same time means +of testing it once for all, and of adapting official facilities to +their particular purposes. One morning I was called before the Father +Abbot, and this is what he said to me, in the presence of Dom Granger, +who expressed silent approval.</p> + +<p>"'Your term of inactive service expires in fifteen days. You will +return to Paris, and apply at the Ministry to be reinstated. With what +you have learned here, and the relationships we have been able to +maintain at Headquarters, you will have no difficulty in being +attached to the Geographical Staff of the army. When you reach the rue +de Grenelle you will receive our instructions.'</p> + +<p>"I was astonished at their confidence in my knowledge. When I was +reestablished as Captain again in the Geographical Service I +understood. At the monastery, the daily association with Dom Granger +and his pupils had kept me constantly convinced of the inferiority of +my knowledge. When I came in contact with my military brethren I +realized the superiority of the instruction I had received. I did not +have to concern myself with the details of my mission. The <!-- Page 45 -->Ministries +invited me to undertake it. My initiative asserted itself on only one +occasion. When I learned that you were going to leave Wargla on the +present expedition, having reason to distrust my practical +qualifications as an explorer, I did my best to retard your departure, +so that I might join you. I hope that you have forgiven me by now."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The light in the west was fading, where the sun had already sunk into +a matchless luxury of violet draperies. We were alone in this +immensity, at the feet of the rigid black rocks. Nothing but +ourselves. Nothing, nothing but ourselves.</p> + +<p>I held out my hand to Morhange, and he pressed it. Then he said:</p> + +<p>"If they still seem infinitely long to me, the several thousand +kilometers which separate me from the instant when, my task +accomplished, I shall at last find oblivion in the cloister for the +things for which I was not made, let me tell you this;—the several +hundred kilometers which still separate us from Shikh-Salah seem to me +infinitely short to traverse in your company."</p> + +<p>On the pale water of the little pool, motionless and fixed like a +silver nail, a star had just been born.</p> + +<p>"Shikh-Salah," I murmured, my heart full of an indefinable sadness. +"Patience, we are not there yet."</p> + +<p>In truth, we never were to be there.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="V"><!-- Chapter 5 --></a>V</h2> + +<h3>THE INSCRIPTION</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock +from the black flank of the mountain.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me.</p> + +<p>"A basaltic peridot," I said.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 46 -->It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it."</p> + +<p>"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit +that I am otherwise preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Look this way a bit," I said, showing towards the west, on the +horizon, a black spot across the white plain.</p> + +<p>It was six o'clock in the morning. The sun had risen. But it could not +be found in the surprisingly polished air. And not a breath of air, +not a breath. Suddenly one of the camels called. An enormous antelope +had just come in sight, and had stopped in its flight, terrified, +racing the wall of rock. It stayed there at a little distance from us, +dazed, trembling on its slender legs.</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema had rejoined us.</p> + +<p>"When the legs of the mohor tremble it is because the firmament is +shaken," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"A storm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a storm."</p> + +<p>"And you find that alarming?"</p> + +<p>I did not answer immediately. I was exchanging several brief words +with Bou-Djema, who was occupied in soothing the camels which were +giving signs of being restive.</p> + +<p>Morhange repeated his question. I shrugged my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Alarming? I don't know. I have never seen a storm on the Hoggar. But +I distrust it. And the signs are that this is going to be a big one. +See there already."</p> + +<p>A slight dust had risen before the cliff. In the still air a few +grains of sand had begun to whirl round and round, with a speed which +increased to dizziness, giving us in advance the spectacle in +miniature of what would soon be breaking upon us.</p> + +<p>With harsh cries a flock of wild geese appeared, flying low. They came +out of the west.</p> + +<p>"They are fleeing towards the Sebkha d'Amanghor," said Bou-Djema.</p> + +<p>There could be no greater mistake, I thought.</p> + +<p>Morhange looked at me curiously.</p> + +<p>"What must we do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Mount our camels immediately, before they are com<!-- Page 47 -->pletely +demoralized, and hurry to find shelter in some high places. Take +account of our situation. It is easy to follow the bed of a stream. +But within a quarter of an hour perhaps the storm will have burst. +Within a half hour a perfect torrent will be rushing here. On this +soil, which is almost impermeable, rain will roll like a pail of water +thrown on a bituminous pavement. No depth, all height. Look at this."</p> + +<p>And I showed him, a dozen meters high, long hollow gouges, marks of +former erosions on the rocky wall.</p> + +<p>"In an hour the waters will reach that height. Those are the marks of +the last inundation. Let us get started. There is not an instant to +lose."</p> + +<p>"All right," Morhange replied tranquilly.</p> + +<p>We had the greatest difficulty to make the camels kneel. When we had +thrown ourselves into the saddle they started off at a pace which +their terror rendered more and more disorderly.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden the wind began, a formidable wind, and, almost at the same +time the light was eclipsed in the ravine. Above our heads the sky had +become, in the flash of an eye, darker than the walls of the canyon +which we were descending at a breathless pace.</p> + +<p>"A path, a stairway in the wall," I screamed against the wind to my +companions. "If we don't find one in a minute we are lost."</p> + +<p>They did not hear me, but, turning in my saddle, I saw that they had +lost no distance, Morhange following me, and Bou-Djema in the rear +driving the two baggage camels masterfully before him.</p> + +<p>A blinding streak of lightning rent the obscurity. A peal of thunder, +re-echoed to infinity by the rocky wall, rang out, and immediately +great tepid drops began to fall. In an instant, our burnouses, which +had been blown out behind by the speed with which we were traveling, +were stuck tight to our streaming bodies.</p> + +<p>"Saved!" I exclaimed suddenly.</p> + +<p>Abruptly on our right a crevice opened in the midst of the wall. It +was the almost perpendicular bed of a stream, an affluent of the one +we had had the unfortunate idea of <!-- Page 48 -->following that morning. Already a +veritable torrent was gushing over it with a fine uproar.</p> + +<p>I have never better appreciated the incomparable sure-footedness of +camels in the most precipitate places. Bracing themselves, stretching +out their great legs, balancing themselves among the rocks that were +beginning to be swept loose, our camels accomplished at that moment +what the mules of the Pyrannees might have failed in.</p> + +<p>After several moments of superhuman effort we found ourselves at last +out of danger, on a kind of basaltic terrace, elevated some fifty +meters above the channel of the stream we had just left. Luck was with +us; a little grotto opened out behind. Bou-Djema succeeded in +sheltering the camels there. From its threshold we had leisure to +contemplate in silence the prodigious spectacle spread out before us.</p> + +<p>You have, I believe, been at the Camp of Chalons for artillery drills. +You have seen when the shell bursts how the chalky soil of the Marne +effervesces like the inkwells at school, when we used to throw a piece +of calcium carbonate into them. Well, it was almost like that, but in +the midst of the desert, in the midst of obscurity. The white waters +rushed into the depths of the black hole, and rose and rose towards +the pedestal on which we stood. And there was the uninterrupted noise +of thunder, and still louder, the sound of whole walls of rock, +undermined by the flood, collapsing in a heap and dissolving in a few +seconds of time in the midst of the rising water.</p> + +<p>All the time that this deluge lasted, one hour, perhaps two, Morhange +and I stayed bending over this fantastic foaming vat; anxious to see, +to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a +kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we +had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the +water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful +it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare.</p> + +<p>Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each +other.</p> + +<p>Morhange held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said simply.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 49 -->And he added with a smile:</p> + +<p>"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been +pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of +decision, from this very paradoxical end."</p> + +<p>Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to +his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never +have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of +weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly. +No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did +happen.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's +camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the +torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its +unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a +sky that had renewed its blueness. I could feel the clothes that had a +moment before been drenching, drying upon me incredibly fast.</p> + +<p>A hand was placed on my shoulder. Morhange was again beside me.</p> + +<p>"Come here," he said.</p> + +<p>Somewhat surprised, I followed him. We went into the grotto.</p> + +<p>The opening, which was big enough to admit the camels, made it fairly +light. Morhange led me up to the smooth face of rock opposite. "Look," +he said, with unconcealed joy.</p> + +<p>"What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"I see that there are several Tuareg inscriptions," I answered, with +some disappointment. "But I thought I had told you that I read Tifinar +writing very badly. Are these writings more interesting than the +others we have come upon before?"</p> + +<p>"Look at this one," said Morhange. There was such an accent of triumph +in his tone that this time I concentrated my attention.</p> + +<p>I looked again.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 50 -->The characters of the inscription were arranged in the form of a +cross. It plays such an important part in this adventure that I cannot +forego retracing it for you.</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<img src="images/illus050.gif" id="p50" width="500" height="297" alt="Inscription on the stone" /> +</p> + +<p>It was designed with great regularity, and the characters were cut +deep into the rock. Although I knew so little of rock inscriptions at +that time I had no difficulty in recognizing the antiquity of this +one.</p> + +<p>Morhange became more and more radiant as he regarded it.</p> + +<p>I looked at him questioningly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what have you to say now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to say? I tell you that I can barely read +Tifinar."</p> + +<p>"Shall I help you?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>This course in Berber writing, after the emotions through which we had +just passed, seemed to me a little inopportune. But Morhange was so +visibly delighted that I could not dash his joy.</p> + +<p>"Very well then," began my companion, as much at his, ease +as if he had been before a blackboard, "what will strike you first +about this inscription is its repetition in the form of a cross. That is +to say that it contains the same word twice, top to bottom, and right to +left. The word which it composes has seven letters so the fourth letter, +W [Transcriber's Note: Rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise], comes +naturally in the middle. This arrangement which is unique in Tifinar +writing, is already remarkable enough. But there is better still. Now we +will read it."</p> + +<p>Getting it wrong three times out of seven I finally succeeded, with +Morhange's help, in spelling the word.</p> + +<p>"Have you got it?" asked Morhange when I had finished my task.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 51 -->Less than ever," I answered, a little put out; +"a,n,t,i,n,h,a,—Antinha, I don't know that word, or anything like it, +in all the Saharan dialects I am familiar with."</p> + +<p>Morhange rubbed his hands together. His satisfaction was without +bounds.</p> + +<p>"You have said it. That is why the discovery is unique."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"There is really nothing, either in Berber or in Arabian, analogous to +this word."</p> + +<p>"Then?"</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear friend, we are in the presence of a foreign word, +translated into Tifinar."</p> + +<p>"And this word belongs, according to your theory, to what language?"</p> + +<p>"You must realize that the letter <i>e</i> does not exist in the Tifinar +alphabet. It has here been replaced by the phonetic sign which is +nearest to it,—h. Restore <i>e</i> to the place which belongs to it in the +word, and you have—"</p> + +<p>"Antinea."</p> + +<p>"'Antinea,' precisely. We find ourselves before a Greek vocable +reproduced in Tifinar. And I think that now you will agree with me +that my find has a certain interest."</p> + +<p>That day we had no more conferences upon texts. A loud cry, anguished, +terrifying, rang out.</p> + +<p>We rushed out to find a strange spectacle awaiting us.</p> + +<p>Although the sky had cleared again, the torrent of yellow water was +still foaming and no one could predict when it would fall. In +mid-stream, struggling desperately in the current, was an +extraordinary mass, gray and soft and swaying.</p> + +<p>But what at the first glance overwhelmed us with astonishment was to +see Bou-Djema, usually so calm, at this moment apparently beside +himself with frenzy, bounding through the gullies and over the rocks +of the ledge, in full pursuit of the shipwreck.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden I seized Morhange by the arm. The grayish thing was alive. +A pitiful long neck emerged from it with the heartrending cry of a +beast in despair.</p> + +<p>"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the +stream is carrying it away!"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 52 -->You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. +The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish +we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave +Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the +intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream."</p> + +<p>"Who gave that cry, then?"</p> + +<p>"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is +descending at such a rate."</p> + +<p>And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the +recently washed gullies of the rocky bank.</p> + +<p>At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his +destiny.</p> + +<p>I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or +three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing +brook where the water was falling a trifle.</p> + +<p>"See there?" said Morhange.</p> + +<p>A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek.</p> + +<p>When we had come up even with it we saw that it was a man in the long +dark blue robes of the Tuareg.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand," said Morhange, "and brace yourself against a +rock, hard."</p> + +<p>He was very, very strong. In an instant, as if it were child's play, +he had brought the body ashore.</p> + +<p>"He is still alive," he pronounced with satisfaction. "Now it is a +question of getting him to the grotto. This is no place to resuscitate +a drowned man."</p> + +<p>He raised the body in his powerful arms.</p> + +<p>"It is astonishing how little he weighs for a man of his height."</p> + +<p>By the time we had retraced the way to the grotto the man's cotton +clothes were almost dry. But the dye had run plentifully, and it was +an indigo man that Morhange was trying to recall to life.</p> + +<p>When I had made him swallow a quart of rum he opened his eyes, looked +at the two of us with surprise, then, closing them again, murmured +almost unintelligibly a phrase, the sense of which we did not get +until some days later:</p> + +<p>"Can it be that I have reached the end of my mission?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 53 -->What mission is he talking about?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Let him recover himself completely," responded Morhange. "You had +better open some preserved food. With fellows of this build you don't +have to observe the precautions prescribed for drowned Europeans."</p> + +<p>It was indeed a species of giant, whose life we had just saved. His +face, although very thin, was regular, almost beautiful. He had a +clear skin and little beard. His hair, already white, showed him to be +a man of sixty years.</p> + +<p>When I placed a tin of corned-beef before him a light of voracious joy +came into his eyes. The tin contained an allowance for four persons. +It was empty in a flash.</p> + +<p>"Behold," said Morhange, "a robust appetite. Now we can put our +questions without scruple."</p> + +<p>Already the Targa had placed over his forehead and face the blue veil +prescribed by the ritual. He must have been completely famished not to +have performed this indispensable formality sooner. There was nothing +visible now but the eyes, watching us with a light that grew steadily +more sombre.</p> + +<p>"French officers," he murmured at last.</p> + +<p>And he took Morhange's hand, and having placed it against his breast, +carried it to his lips.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an expression of anxiety passed over his face.</p> + +<p>"And my mehari?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his +beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the +current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. +His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he +remembered nothing more.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen."</p> + +<p>"What tribe do you belong to?"</p> + +<p>"The tribe of Kel-Tahat."</p> + +<p>"The Kel-Tahats are the serfs of the tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, the great +nobles of Hoggar?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, casting a side glance in my direction. It seemed +that such precise questions on the affairs of Ahygar were not to his liking.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 54 -->The Kel-Tahats, if I am not mistaken, are established on the +southwest flank of Atakor.<a name="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> +What were you doing, so far from your home territory when we saved your life?"</p> + +<p>"I was going, by way of Tit, to In-Salah," he said.</p> + +<p>"What were you going to do at In-Salah?"</p> + +<p>He was about to reply. But suddenly we saw him tremble. His eyes were +fixed on a point of the cavern. We looked to see what it was. He had +just seen the rock inscription which had so delighted Morhange an hour before.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that?" Morhange asked him with keen curiosity.</p> + +<p>The Targa did not speak a word but his eyes had a strange light.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that?" insisted Morhange.</p> + +<p>And he added:</p> + +<p>"Antinea?"</p> + +<p>"Antinea," repeated the man.</p> + +<p>And he was silent.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you answer the Captain?" I called out, with a strange +feeling of rage sweeping over me.</p> + +<p>The Targui looked at me. I thought that he was going to speak. But his +eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features stiffening.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I turned around.</p> + +<p>On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by +an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 55 --> +<h2><a name="VI"><!-- Chapter 6 --></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both +the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately +repressed. It was nothing more than a fleeting impression. +Nevertheless, it was enough to make me resolve that as soon as I was +alone with our guide, I would question him closely concerning our new companion.</p> + +<p>The beginning of the day had been wearisome enough. We decided, +therefore, to spend the rest of it there, and even to pass the night +in the cave, waiting till the flood had completely subsided.</p> + +<p>In the morning, when I was marking our day's march upon the map, +Morhange came toward me. I noticed that his manner was somewhat restrained.</p> + +<p>"In three days, we shall be at Shikh-Salah," I said to him. "Perhaps +by the evening of the second day, badly as the camels go."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we shall separate before then," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"You see, I have changed my itinerary a little. I have given up the +idea of going straight to Timissao. First I should like to make a +little excursion into the interior of the Ahaggar range."</p> + +<p>I frowned:</p> + +<p>"What is this new idea?"</p> + +<p>As I spoke I looked about for Eg-Anteouen, whom I had seen in +conversation with Morhange the previous evening and several minutes +before. He was quietly mending one of his sandals with a waxed thread +supplied by Bou-Djema. He did not raise his head.</p> + +<p>"It is simply," explained Morhange, less and less at his ease, "that +this man tells me there are similar inscriptions in several caverns in +western Ahaggar. These caves are near the road that he has to take +returning home. He must pass by Tit. Now, from Tit, by way of Silet, +is hardly two hundred <!-- Page 56 -->kilometers. It is a quasi-classic +route<a name="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> as +short again as the one that I shall have to take alone, after I leave +you, from Shikh-Salah to Timissao. That is in part, you see, the +reason which has made me decide to...."</p> + +<p>"In part? In very small part," I replied. "But is your mind absolutely +made up?"</p> + +<p>"It is," he answered me.</p> + +<p>"When do you expect to leave me?"</p> + +<p>"To-day. The road which Eg-Anteouen proposes to take into Ahaggar +crosses this one about four leagues from here. I have a favor to ask +of you in this connection."</p> + +<p>"Please tell me."</p> + +<p>"It is to let me take one of the two baggage camels, since my Targa +has lost his."</p> + +<p>"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does +your own mehari," I answered coldly.</p> + +<p>We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained +an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or +less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored +portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the +tan area of supposed mountains.</p> + +<p>I finally said:</p> + +<p>"You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, +you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?"</p> + +<p>He looked at me uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask that?"</p> + +<p>"Because, if you promise me that,—provided, of course, that my +company is not unwelcome to you—I will go with you. Either way, I +shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for Shikh-Salah from the south, +instead of from the west—that is the only difference."</p> + +<p>Morhange looked at me with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Why do you do this?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 57 -->My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed +Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which +becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave +you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the +storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to +have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may +be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well +pleased not to let you run sure risks alone."</p> + +<p>"I have a guide," he said with his adorable naiveté.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old slipper.</p> + +<p>I took a step toward him.</p> + +<p>"You heard what I said to the Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the Targa answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must +bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?"</p> + +<p>"I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the +Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march +southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But +farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are +good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, +come to water their camels."</p> + +<p>"And you know the road well?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile.</p> + +<p>"I have taken it twenty times," he said.</p> + +<p>"In that case, let's get started."</p> + +<p>We rode for two hours. I did not exchange a word with Morhange. I had +a clear intuition of the folly we were committing in risking ourselves +so unconcernedly in that least known and most dangerous part of the +Sahara. Every blow which had been struck in the last twenty years to +undermine the French advance had come from this redoubtable Ahaggar. +But what of it? It was of my own will that I had joined in this mad +scheme. No need of going over it again. What was the use of spoiling +my action by a continual exhibition of disapproval? And, furthermore, +I may as well admit that <!-- Page 58 -->I rather liked the turn that our trip was +beginning to take. I had, at that instant, the sensation of journeying +toward something incredible, toward some tremendous adventure. You do +not live with impunity for months and years as the guest of the +desert. Sooner or later, it has its way with you, annihilates the good +officer, the timid executive, overthrows his solicitude for his +responsibilities. What is there behind those mysterious rocks, those +dim solitudes, which have held at bay the most illustrious pursuers of +mystery? You follow, I tell you, you follow.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"Are you sure at least that this inscription is interesting enough to +justify us in our undertaking?" I asked Morhange.</p> + +<p>My companion started with pleasure. Ever since we began our journey I +had realized his fear that I was coming along half-heartedly. As soon +as I offered him a chance to convince me, his scruples vanished, and +his triumph seemed assured to him.</p> + +<p>"Never," he answered, in a voice that he tried to control, but through +which the enthusiasm rang out, "never has a Greek inscription been +found so far south. The farthest points where they have been reported +are in the south of Algeria and Cyrene. But in Ahaggar! Think of it! +It is true that this one is translated into Tifinar. But this +peculiarity does not diminish the interest of the coincidence: it +increases it."</p> + +<p>"What do you take to be the meaning of this word?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Antinea</i> can only be a proper name," said Morhange. "To whom does it +refer? I admit I don't know, and if at this very moment I am marching +toward the south, dragging you along with me, it is because I count on +learning more about it. Its etymology? It hasn't one definitely, but +there are thirty possibilities. Bear in mind that the Tifinar alphabet +is far from tallying with the Greek alphabet, which increases the +number of hypotheses. Shall I suggest several?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 59 -->I was just about to ask you to."</p> + +<p>"To begin with, there is +<img src="images/tfnr59_1.gif" width="95" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +and +<img src="images/tfnr59_2.gif" width="86" height="46" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +<i>the woman who is placed opposite a vessel</i>, an explanation which would have been pleasing to +Gaffarel and to my venerated master Berlioux. That would apply well +enough to the figure-heads of ships. There is a technical term that I +cannot recall at this moment, not if you beat me a hundred times +over.<a name="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7"><sup>[7]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"Then there is +<img src="images/tfnr59_3.gif" width="144" height="45" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, that you must relate to +<img src="images/tfnr59_4.gif" width="98" height="39" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> + and +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, <i>she who holds herself before the</i> +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, the +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +of the temple, <i>she who is opposite the sanctuary,</i> therefore priestess. An interpretation +which would enchant Girard and Renan.</p> + +<p>"Next we have +<img src="images/tfnr59_6.gif" width="134" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, from +<img src="images/tfnr59_7.gif" width="90" height="41" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +and +<img src="images/tfnr59_8.gif" width="90" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, new, which can mean two things: either <i>she who is the contrary of young</i>, which is to say +old; or <i>she who is the enemy of novelty</i> or <i>the enemy of youth</i>.</p> + +<p>"There is still another sense of +<img src="images/tfnr59_9.gif" width="108" height="42" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, <i>in exchange for,</i> which is capable of complicating all the others I have mentioned; +likewise there are four meanings for the verb +<img src="images/tfnr59_10.gif" width="73" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, which means in turn <i>to go, to flow, to thread</i> or <i>weave, to heap</i>. +There is more still.... And notice, please, that I have not at my disposition on the +otherwise commodious hump of this mehari, either the great dictionary of +Estienne or the lexicons of Passow, of Pape, or of Liddel-Scott. This +is only to show you, my dear friend, that epigraphy is but a relative +science, always dependent on the discovery of a new text which +contradicts the previous findings, when it is not merely at the mercy +of the humors of the epigraphists and their pet conceptions of the universe.</p> + +<p>"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my +astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal, +you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite considerable."</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled wanly.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 60 -->I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back +to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are +beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me."</p> + +<p>Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well +fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema +repair the damage.</p> + +<p>When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's.</p> + +<p>"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will +have to climb the mountain."</p> + +<p>The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought +it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed +Eg-Anteouen would have told him.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not +mountainous," said the Chaamba.</p> + +<p>"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going +south, by Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...."</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know the road."</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us."</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen!"</p> + +<p>I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes +were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with +Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be +conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were +not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words.</p> + +<p>Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered.</p> + +<p>His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 61 -->Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to +pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell +you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead. +Join the Captain."</p> + +<p>"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as +to make him overtake Morhange.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way, +came to a stop.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of +granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced, +from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high +and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk +abreast.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," repeated the Targa.</p> + +<p>To the west, straight behind us, the track that we were leaving +unrolled like a pale ribbon. The white plain, the road to Shikh-Salah, +the established halts, the well-known wells.... And, on the other +side, this black wall against the mauve sky, this dark passage.</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange.</p> + +<p>"We had better stop here," he said simply. "Eg-Anteouen advises us to +take as much water here as we can carry."</p> + +<p>With one accord we decided to spend the night there, before +undertaking the mountain.</p> + +<p>There was a spring, in a dark basin, from which fell a little cascade; +there were a few shrubs, a few plants.</p> + +<p>Already the camels were browsing at the length of their tethers.</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema arranged our camp dinner service of tin cups and plates on a +great flat stone. An opened tin of meat lay beside a plate of lettuce +which he had just gathered from the moist earth around the spring. I +could tell from the distracted manner in which he placed these objects +upon the rock how deep was his anxiety.</p> + +<p>As he was bending toward me to hand me a plate, he pointed to the +gloomy black corridor which we were about to enter.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blad-el-Khouf!"</i> he murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 62 -->What did he say?" asked Morhange, who had seen the gesture.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blad-el-Khouf. This is the country of fear.</i> That is what the Arabs +call Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema went a little distance off and sat down, leaving us to our +dinner. Squatting on his heels, he began to eat a few lettuce leaves +that he had kept for his own meal.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen was still motionless.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Targa rose. The sun in the west was no larger than a red +brand. We saw Eg-Anteouen approach the fountain, spread his blue +burnous on the ground and kneel upon it.</p> + +<p>"I did not suppose that the Tuareg were so observant of Mussulman +tradition," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," I replied thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>But I had something to do at that moment besides making such +speculations.</p> + +<p>"Bou-Djema," I called.</p> + +<p>At the same time, I looked at Eg-Anteouen. Absorbed in his prayer, +bowed toward the west, apparently he was paying no attention to me. As +he prostrated himself, I called again.</p> + +<p>"Bou-Djema, come with me to my mehari; I want to get something out of +the saddle bags."</p> + +<p>Still kneeling, Eg-Anteouen was mumbling his prayer slowly, +composedly.</p> + +<p>But Bou-Djema had not budged.</p> + +<p>His only response was a deep moan.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I leaped to our feet and ran to the guide. Eg-Anteouen +reached him as soon as we did.</p> + +<p>With his eyes closed and his limbs already cold, the Chaamba breathed +a death rattle in Morhange's arms. I had seized one of his hands. +Eg-Anteouen took the other. Each, in his own way, was trying to +divine, to understand....</p> + +<p>Suddenly Eg-Anteouen leapt to his feet. He had just seen the poor +embossed bowl which the Arab had held an instant before between his +knees, and which now lay overturned upon the ground.</p> + +<p>He picked it up, looked quickly at one after another of <!-- Page 63 -->the leaves of +lettuce remaining in it, and then gave a hoarse exclamation.</p> + +<p>"So," said Morhange, "it's his turn now; he is going to go mad."</p> + +<p>Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the +rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, +holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched.</p> + +<p>Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and +held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl.</p> + +<p>"<i>Afahlehle,"</i> was all he said.</p> + +<p>I shuddered, and so did Morhange. It was the <i>afahlehla,</i> the +<i>falestez</i>, of the Arabs of the Sahara, the terrible plant which had +killed a part of the Flatters mission more quickly and surely than +Tuareg arms.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen stood up. His tall silhouette was outlined blackly against +the sky which suddenly had turned pale lilac. He was watching us.</p> + +<p>We bent again over the unfortunate guide.</p> + +<p>"<i>Afahlehle,"</i> the Targa repeated, and shook his head.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Bou-Djema died in the middle of the night without having regained +consciousness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="VII"><!-- Chapter 8 --></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>THE COUNTRY OF FEAR</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"It is curious," said Morhange, "to see how our expedition, uneventful +since we left Ouargla, is now becoming exciting."</p> + +<p>He said this after kneeling for a moment in prayer before the +painfully dug grave in which we had lain the guide.</p> + +<p>I do not believe in God. But if anything can influence whatever powers +there may be, whether of good or of evil, of light or of darkness, it +is the prayer of such a man.</p> + +<p>For two days we picked our way through a gigantic chaos of black rock +in what might have been the country <!-- Page 64 -->of the moon, so barren was it. No +sound but that of stones rolling under the feet of the camels and +striking like gunshots at the foot of the precipices.</p> + +<p>A strange march indeed. For the first few hours, I tried to pick out, +by compass, the route we were following. But my calculations were soon +upset; doubtless a mistake due to the swaying motion of the camel. I +put the compass back in one of my saddle-bags. From that time on, +Eg-Anteouen was our master. We could only trust ourselves to him.</p> + +<p>He went first; Morhange followed him, and I brought up the rear. We +passed at every step most curious specimens of volcanic rock. But I +did not examine them. I was no longer interested in such things. +Another kind of curiosity had taken possession of me. I had come to +share Morhange's madness. If my companion had said to me: "We are +doing a very rash thing. Let us go back to the known trails," I should +have replied, "You are free to do as you please. But I am going on."</p> + +<p>Toward evening of the second day, we found ourselves at the foot of a +black mountain whose jagged ramparts towered in profile seven thousand +feet above our heads. It was an enormous shadowy fortress, like the +outline of a feudal stronghold silhouetted with incredible sharpness +against the orange sky.</p> + +<p>There was a well, with several trees, the first we had seen since +cutting into Ahaggar.</p> + +<p>A group of men were standing about it. Their camels, tethered close +by, were cropping a mouthful here and there.</p> + +<p>At seeing us, the men drew together, alert, on the defensive.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen turned to us and said:</p> + +<p>"Eggali Tuareg."</p> + +<p>We went toward them.</p> + +<p>They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever +have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well, +leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked +at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any +rate, with respect.</p> + +<p>I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and <!-- Page 65 -->was astonished +at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even +of my glance.</p> + +<p>When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for +which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not +prepared me.</p> + +<p>"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And +yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to +which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe."</p> + +<p>A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen.</p> + +<p>"It is true," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well then?"</p> + +<p>"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the +Mountain of the Evil Spirits."</p> + +<p>With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain.</p> + +<p>"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain +of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very +mention of its name."</p> + +<p>"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?" +queried Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I +told you about."</p> + +<p>"You did not mention that detail to us."</p> + +<p>"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the <i>ilhinen,</i> spirits with +horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die +and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not +afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg."</p> + +<p>"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the +<i>ilhinen</i>?"</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a +chain of white seeds.</p> + +<p>"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable +Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You +have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!"</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long +reed pipe and began to smoke gravely.</p> + +<p>"All this is beginning to seem very strange," said Morhange, coming +over to me.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 66 -->You can say that without exaggeration," I replied. "You remember as +well as I the passage in which Barth tells of his expedition to the +Idinen, the Mountain of the Evil Spirits of the Azdjer Tuareg. The +region had so evil a reputation that no Targa would go with him. But +he got back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he got back," replied my comrade, "but only after he had been +lost. Without water or food, he came so near dying of hunger and +thirst that he had to open a vein and drink his own blood. The +prospect is not particularly attractive."</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was not my fault that we were +there.</p> + +<p>Morhange understood my gesture and thought it necessary to make +excuses.</p> + +<p>"I should be curious," he went on with rather forced gaiety, "to meet +these spirits and substantiate the facts of Pomponius Mela who knew +them and locates them, in fact, in the mountain of the Tuareg. He +calls them <i>Egipans, Blemyens, Gamphasantes, Satyrs.... 'The +Gamphasantes</i>, he says, 'are naked. The <i>Blemyens</i> have no head: their +faces are placed on their chests; the <i>Satyrs</i> have nothing like men +except faces. The <i>Egipans</i> are made as is commonly described.' ... +<i>Satyrs, Egipans</i> ... isn't it very strange to find Greek names given +to the barbarian spirits of this region? Believe me, we are on a +curious trail; I am sure that Antinea will be our key to remarkable +discoveries."</p> + +<p>"Listen," I said, laying a finger on my lips.</p> + +<p>Strange sounds rose from about us as the evening advanced with great +strides. A kind of crackling, followed by long rending shrieks, echoed +and reechoed to infinity in the neighboring ravines. It seemed to me +that the whole black mountain suddenly had begun to moan.</p> + +<p>We looked at Eg-Anteouen. He was smoking on, without twitching a +muscle.</p> + +<p>"The <i>ilhinen</i> are waking up," he said simply.</p> + +<p>Morhange listened without saying a word. Doubtless he understood as I +did: the overheated rocks, the crackling of the stone, a whole series +of physical phenomena, the example of the singing statue of Memnon.... +But, for all <!-- Page 67 -->that, this unexpected concert reacted no less painfully +on our overstrained nerves.</p> + +<p>The last words of poor Bou-Djema came to my mind.</p> + +<p>"The country of fear," I murmured in a low voice.</p> + +<p>And Morhange repeated:</p> + +<p>"The country of fear."</p> + +<p>The strange concert ceased as the first stars appeared in the sky. +With deep emotion we watched the tiny bluish flames appear, one after +another. At that portentous moment they seemed to span the distance +between us, isolated, condemned, lost, and our brothers of higher +latitudes, who at that hour were rushing about their poor pleasures +with delirious frenzy in cities where the whiteness of electric lamps +came on in a burst.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Chêt-Ahadh essa hetîsenet</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâteredjrê d'Erredjaot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâtesekek d-Essekâot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâtelahrlahr d'Ellerhâot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Ettâs djenen, barâd tît-ennit abâtet.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen's voice raised itself in slow guttural tones. It resounded +with sad, grave majesty in the silence now complete.</p> + +<p>I touched the Targa's arm. With a movement of his head, he pointed to +a constellation glittering in the firmament.</p> + +<p>"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale +stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same +monotone:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"The Daughters of the Night are seven:<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâteredjrê and Erredjeâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâtesekek and Essekâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâtelahrlahr and Ellerhâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A sudden sickness came over me. I seized the Targa's arm as he was +starting to intone his refrain for the third time.</p> + +<p>"When will we reach this cave with the inscriptions?" I asked +brusquely.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 68 -->He looked at me and replied with his usual calm:</p> + +<p>"We are there."</p> + +<p>"We are there? Then why don't you show it to us?"</p> + +<p>"You did not ask me," he replied, not without a touch of insolence.</p> + +<p>Morhange had jumped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"The cave is here?"</p> + +<p>"It is here," Eg-Anteouen replied slowly, rising to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Take us to it."</p> + +<p>"Morhange," I said, suddenly anxious, "night is falling. We will see +nothing. And perhaps it is still some way off."</p> + +<p>"It is hardly five hundred paces," Eg-Anteouen replied. "The cave is +full of dead underbrush. We will set it on fire and the Captain will +see as in full daylight."</p> + +<p>"Come," my comrade repeated.</p> + +<p>"And the camels?" I hazarded.</p> + +<p>"They are tethered," said Eg-Anteouen, "and we shall not be gone +long."</p> + +<p>He had started toward the black mountain. Morhange, trembling with +excitement, followed. I followed, too, the victim of profound +uneasiness. My pulses throbbed. "I am not afraid," I kept repeating to +myself. "I swear that this is not fear."</p> + +<p>And really it was not fear. Yet, what a strange dizziness! There was a +mist over my eyes. My ears buzzed. Again I heard Eg-Anteouen's voice, +but multiplied, immense, and at the same time, very low.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"The Daughters of the Night are seven...."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It seemed to me that the voice of the mountain, re-echoing, repeated +that sinister last line to infinity:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"And the seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Here it is," said the Targa.</p> + +<p>A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. +We followed him. The darkness closed around us.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 69 -->A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a +pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The +smoke blinded us.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave. He was +seated and, more inscrutible than ever, had begun again to blow great +puffs of gray smoke from his pipe.</p> + +<p>The burning brush cast a flickering light. I caught a glimpse of +Morhange. He seemed very pale. With both hands braced against the +wall, he was working to decipher a mass of signs which I could +scarcely distinguish.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I thought I could see his hands trembling.</p> + +<p>"The devil," I thought, finding it more and more difficult to +co-ordinate my thoughts, "he seems to be as unstrung as I."</p> + +<p>I heard him call out to Eg-Anteouen in what seemed to me a loud voice:</p> + +<p>"Stand to one side. Let the air in. What a smoke!"</p> + +<p>He kept on working at the signs.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I heard him again, but with difficulty. It seemed as if even +sounds were confused in the smoke.</p> + +<p>"Antinea ... At last ... Antinea. But not cut in the rock ... the +marks traced in ochre ... not ten years old, perhaps not five.... +Oh!...."</p> + +<p>He pressed his hands to his head. Again he cried out:</p> + +<p>"It is a mystery. A tragic mystery."</p> + +<p>I laughed teasingly.</p> + +<p>"Come on, come on. Don't get excited over it."</p> + +<p>He took me by the arm and shook me. I saw his eyes big with terror and +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad?" he yelled in my face.</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," I replied with the same little laugh.</p> + +<p>He looked at me again, and sank down, overcome, on a rock opposite me. +Eg-Anteouen was still smoking placidly at the mouth of the cave. We +could see the red circle of his pipe glowing in the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Madman! Madman!" repeated Morhange. His voice seemed to stick in his +throat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he bent over the brush which was giving its last darts of +flame, high and clear. He picked out a branch <!-- Page 70 -->which had not yet +caught. I saw him examine it carefully, then throw it back in the fire +with a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha! That's good, all right!"</p> + +<p>He staggered toward Eg-Anteouen, pointing to the fire.</p> + +<p>"It's hemp. Hasheesh, hasheesh. Oh, that's a good one, all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his +inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes.</p> + +<p>A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm.</p> + +<p>"I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave +him one.</p> + +<p>"What! A European pipe?"</p> + +<p>"A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer.</p> + +<p>"With an initial, 'M.' As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange."</p> + +<p>"Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange.</p> + +<p>We laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of +Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson."</p> + +<p>"It was Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," repeated the Targa with imperturbable +calm.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson and Colonel Flatters had left the convoy to look for +the well," said Morhange, laughing.</p> + +<p>"It was then that the Tuareg attacked them," I finished, laughing as +hard as I could.</p> + +<p>"A Targa of Ahagga seized the bridle of Captain Masson's horse," said +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had hold of Colonel Flatters' bridle," put in +Eg-Anteouen.</p> + +<p>"The Colonel puts his foot in the stirrup and receives a cut from +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's saber," I said.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson draws his revolver and fires on Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +shooting off three fingers of his left hand," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but +<!-- Page 71 -->Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull."..</p> + +<p>He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up +his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in +his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I +had not noticed that before.</p> + +<p>Morhange also noticed it, for he finished with a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"Then, after splitting his skull, you robbed him. You took his pipe +from him. Bravo, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh!"</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh does not reply, but I can see how satisfied with +himself he is. He keeps on smoking. I can hardly see his features now. +The firelight pales, dies. I have never laughed so much as this +evening. I am sure Morhange never has, either. Perhaps he will forget +the cloister. And all because Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh stole Captain +Masson's pipe....</p> + +<p>Again that accursed song. "The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has +flown away." One cannot imagine more senseless words. It is very +strange, really: there seem to be four of us in this cave now. Four, I +say, five, six, seven, eight.... Make yourselves at home, my friends. +What! there are no more of you?... I am going to find out at last how +the spirits of this region are made, the <i>Gamphasantes</i>, the +<i>Blemyens</i>.... Morhange says that the <i>Blemyens</i> have their faces on +the middle of their chests. Surely this one who is seizing me in his +arms is not a <i>Blemyen</i>! Now he is carrying me outside. And Morhange +... I do not want them to forget Morhange....</p> + +<p>They did not forget him; I see him perched on a camel in front of that +one to which I am fastened. They did well to fasten me, for otherwise +I surely would tumble off. These spirits certainly are not bad +fellows. But what a long way it is! I want to stretch out. To sleep. A +while ago we surely were following a long passage, then we were in the +open air. Now we are again in an endless stifling corridor. Here are +the stars again.... Is this ridiculous course going to keep on?...</p> + +<p>Hello, lights! Stars, perhaps. No, lights, I say. A stairway, on my +word; of rocks, to be sure, but still, a stairway. How <!-- Page 72 -->can the +camels...? But it is no longer a camel; this is a man carrying me. A +man dressed in white, not a <i>Gamphasante</i> nor a <i>Blemyen</i>. Morhange +must be giving himself airs with his historical reasoning, all false, +I repeat, all false. Good Morhange. Provided that his <i>Gamphasante</i> +does not let him fall on this unending stairway. Something glitters on +the ceiling. Yes, it is a lamp, a copper lamp, as at Tunis, at +Barbouchy's. Good, here again you cannot see anything. But I am making +a fool of myself; I am lying down; now I can go to sleep. What a silly +day!... Gentlemen, I assure you that it is unnecessary to bind me: I +do not want to go down on the boulevards.</p> + +<p>Darkness again. Steps of someone going away. Silence.</p> + +<p>But only for a moment. Someone is talking beside me. What are they +saying?... No, it is impossible. That metallic ring, that voice. Do +you know what it is calling, that voice, do you know what it is +calling in the tones of someone used to the phrase? Well, it is +calling:</p> + +<p>"Play your cards, gentlemen, play your cards. There are ten thousand +<i>louis</i> in the bank. Play your cards, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>In the name of God, am I or am I not at Ahaggar?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="VIII"><!-- Chapter 9 --></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I thought at once of +Morhange. I could not see him, but I heard him, close by, giving +little grunts of surprise.</p> + +<p>I called to him. He ran to me.</p> + +<p>"Then they didn't tie you up?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. They did. But they did it badly; I managed to get +free."</p> + +<p>"You might have untied me, too," I remarked crossly.</p> + +<p>"What good would it have done? I should only have waked you up. And I +thought that your first word would be to call me. There, that's done."</p> + +<p>I reeled as I tried to stand on my feet.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 73 -->Morhange smiled.</p> + +<p>"We might have spent the whole night smoking and drinking and not been +in a worse state," he said. "Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his +hasheesh is a fine rascal."</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected.</p> + +<p>I rubbed my hand over my forehead.</p> + +<p>"Where are we?"</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the +extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the +lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from +surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion. Just look around +you."</p> + +<p>I rubbed my eyes and stared. Then I seized my friend's hand.</p> + +<p>"Morhange," I begged, "tell me if we are still dreaming."</p> + +<p>We were in a round room, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and of about +the same height, lighted by a great window opening on a sky of intense +blue.</p> + +<p>Swallows flew back and forth, outside, giving quick, joyous cries.</p> + +<p>The floor, the incurving walls and the ceiling were of a kind of +veined marble like porphyry, panelled with a strange metal, paler than +gold, darker than silver, clouded just then by the early morning mist +that came in through the window in great puffs.</p> + +<p>I staggered toward this window, drawn by the freshness of the breeze +and the sunlight which was chasing away my dreams, and I leaned my +elbows on the balustrade.</p> + +<p>I could not restrain a cry of delight.</p> + +<p>I was standing on a kind of balcony, cut into the flank of a mountain, +overhanging an abyss. Above me, blue sky; below appeared a veritable +earthly paradise hemmed in on all sides by mountains that formed a +continuous and impassable wall about it. A garden lay spread out down +there. The palm trees gently swayed their great fronds. At their feet +was a tangle of the smaller trees which grow in an oasis under their +protection: almonds, lemons, oranges, and many others which I could +not distinguish from that height. A broad blue stream, fed by a +waterfall, emptied into a charming lake, the waters of which had the +marvellous trans<!-- Page 74 -->parency which comes in high altitudes. Great birds +flew in circles over this green hollow; I could see in the lake the +red flash of a flamingo.</p> + +<p>The peaks of the mountains which towered on all sides were completely +covered with snow.</p> + +<p>The blue stream, the green palms, the golden fruit, and above it all, +the miraculous snow, all this bathed in that limpid air, gave such an +impression of beauty, of purity, that my poor human strength could no +longer stand the sight of it. I laid my forehead on the balustrade, +which, too, was covered with that heavenly snow, and began to cry like +a baby.</p> + +<p>Morhange was behaving like another child. But he had awakened before I +had, and doubtless had had time to grasp, one by one, all these +details whose fantastic <i>ensemble</i> staggered me.</p> + +<p>He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back into the +room.</p> + +<p>"You haven't seen anything yet," he said. "Look! Look!"</p> + +<p>"Morhange!"</p> + +<p>"Well, old man, what do you want me to do about it? Look!"</p> + +<p>I had just realized that the strange room was furnished—God forgive +me—in the European fashion. There were indeed, here and there, round +leather Tuareg cushions, brightly colored blankets from Gafsa, rugs +from Kairouan, and Caramani hangings which, at that moment, I should +have dreaded to draw aside. But a half-open panel in the wall showed a +bookcase crowded with books. A whole row of photographs of +masterpieces of ancient art were hung on the walls. Finally there was +a table almost hidden under its heap of papers, pamphlets, books. I +thought I should collapse at seeing a recent number of the +<i>Archaeological Review</i>.</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange. He was looking at me, and suddenly a mad laugh +seized us and doubled us up for a good minute.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," Morhange finally managed to say, "whether or not we +shall regret some day our little excursion into Ahaggar. But admit, in +the meantime, that it promises to be rich in unexpected adventures. +That unforgettable <!-- Page 75 -->guide who puts us to sleep just to distract us +from the unpleasantness of caravan life and who lets me experience, in +the best of good faith, the far-famed delights of hasheesh: that +fantastic night ride, and, to cap the climax, this cave of a Nureddin +who must have received the education of the Athenian Bersot at the +French <i>Ecole Normale</i>—all this is enough, on my word, to upset the +wits of the best balanced."</p> + +<p>"What do I think, my poor friend? Why, just what you yourself think. I +don't understand it at all, not at all. What you politely call my +learning is not worth a cent. And why shouldn't I be all mixed up? +This living in caves amazes me. Pliny speaks of the natives living in +caves, seven days' march southwest of the country of the Amantes, and +twelve days to the westward of the great Syrte. Herodotus says also +that the Garamentes used to go out in their chariots to hunt the +cave-dwelling Ethopians. But here we are in Ahaggar, in the midst of +the Targa country, and the best authorities tell us that the Tuareg +never have been willing to live in caves. Duveyrier is precise on that +point. And what is this, I ask you, but a cave turned into a workroom, +with pictures of the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Sauroctone on the +walls? I tell you that it is enough to drive you mad."</p> + +<p>And Morhange threw himself on a couch and began to roar with laughter +again.</p> + +<p>"See," I said, "this is Latin."</p> + +<p>I had picked up several scattered papers from the work-table in the +middle of the room. Morhange took them from my hands and devoured them +greedily. His face expressed unbounded stupefaction.</p> + +<p>"Stranger and stranger, my boy. Someone here is composing, with much +citation of texts, a dissertation on the Gorgon Islands: <i>de Gorgonum +insulis</i>. Medusa, according to him, was a Libyan savage who lived near +Lake Triton, our present Chott Melhrir, and it is there that Perseus +... Ah!"</p> + +<p>Morhange's words choked in his throat. A sharp, shrill voice pierced +the immense room.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I beg you, let my papers alone."</p> + +<p>I turned toward the newcomer.</p> + +<p>One of the Caramani curtains was drawn aside, and the <!-- Page 76 -->most unexpected +of persons came in. Resigned as we were to unexpected events, the +improbability of this sight exceeded anything our imaginations could +have devised.</p> + +<p>On the threshold stood a little bald-headed man with a pointed sallow +face half hidden by an enormous pair of green spectacles and a pepper +and salt beard. No shirt was visible, but an impressive broad red +cravat. He wore white trousers. Red leather slippers furnished the +only Oriental suggestion of his costume.</p> + +<p>He wore, not without pride, the rosette of an officer of the +Department of Education.</p> + +<p>He collected the papers which Morhange had dropped in his amazement, +counted them, arranged them; then, casting a peevish glance at us, he +struck a copper gong.</p> + +<p>The portiére was raised again. A huge white Targa entered. I seemed to +recognize him as one of the genii of +the cave.<a name="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8"><sup>[8]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of +Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?"</p> + +<p>The Targa bowed respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, +"and last night the embalmers had not yet finished. They brought them +here in the meantime," and he pointed to us.</p> + +<p>"Very well, you may go," snapped the little man.</p> + +<p>Ferradji backed toward the door. On the threshold, he stopped and +spoke again:</p> + +<p>"I was to remind you, sir, that dinner is served."</p> + +<p>"All right. Go along."</p> + +<p>And the little man seated himself at the desk and began to finger the papers feverishly.</p> + +<p>I do not know why, but a mad feeling of exasperation seized me. I +walked toward him.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 77 -->Sir," I said, "my friend and I do not know where we are nor who you +are. We can see only that you are French, since you are wearing one of +the highest honorary decorations of our country. You may have made the +same observation on your part," I added, indicating the slender red +ribbon which I wore on my vest.</p> + +<p>He looked at me in contemptuous surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, the Negro who just went out pronounced the name of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, the name of a brigand, a bandit, one of the +assassins of Colonel Flatters. Are you acquainted with that detail, sir?"</p> + +<p>The little man surveyed me coldly and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But what difference do you suppose that makes to me?"</p> + +<p>"What!" I cried, beside myself with rage. "Who are you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the little old man with comical dignity, turning to +Morhange, "I call you to witness the strange manners of your +companion. I am here in my own house and I do not allow...."</p> + +<p>"You must excuse my comrade, sir," said Morhange, stepping forward. +"He is not a man of letters, as you are. These young lieutenants are +hot-headed, you know. And besides, you can understand why both of us +are not as calm as might be desired."</p> + +<p>I was furious and on the point of disavowing these strangely humble +words of Morhange. But a glance showed me that there was as much irony +as surprise in his expression.</p> + +<p>"I know indeed that most officers are brutes," grumbled the little old +man. "But that is no reason...."</p> + +<p>"I am only an officer myself," Morhange went on, in an even humbler +tone, "and if ever I have been sensible to the intellectual +inferiority of that class, I assure you that it was now in glancing—I +beg your pardon for having taken the liberty to do so—in glancing +over the learned pages which you devote to the passionate story of +Medusa, according to Procles of Carthage, cited by Pausanias."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 78 -->A laughable surprise spread over the features of the little old man. +He hastily wiped his spectacles.</p> + +<p>"What!" he finally cried.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed unfortunate, in this matter," Morhange continued +imperturbably, "that we are not in possession of the curious +dissertation devoted to this burning question by Statius Sebosus, a +work which we know only through Pliny and which...."</p> + +<p>"You know Statius Sebosus?"</p> + +<p>"And which, my master, the geographer Berlioux...."</p> + +<p>"You knew Berlioux—you were his pupil?" stammered the little man with +the decoration.</p> + +<p>"I have had that honor," replied Morhange, very coldly.</p> + +<p>"But, but, sir, then you have heard mentioned, you are familiar with +the question, the problem of Atlantis?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois +de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly.</p> + +<p>"My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. +"Sir—Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...."</p> + +<p>Just then, the portiére was raised. Ferradji appeared again.</p> + +<p>"Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin without you."</p> + +<p>"I am coming, I am coming. Say, Ferradji, that we will be there in a +moment. Why, sir, if I had foreseen ... It is extraordinary ... to +find an officer who knows Procles of Carthage and Arbois de +Jubainville. Again ... But I must introduce myself. I am Etienne Le +Mesge, Fellow of the University."</p> + +<p>"Captain Morhange," said my companion.</p> + +<p>I stepped forward in my turn.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit. It is a fact, sir, that I am very likely to +confuse Arbois of Carthage with Procles de Jubainville. Later, I shall +have to see about filling up those gaps. But just now, I should like +to know where we are, if we are free, and if not, what occult power +holds us. You have the appearance, sir, of being sufficiently at home +in this house to be able to enlighten us upon this point, which I must +confess, I weakly consider of the first importance."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 79 -->M. Le Mesge looked at me. A rather malevolent smile twitched the +corners of his mouth. He opened his lips....</p> + +<p>A gong sounded impatiently.</p> + +<p>"In good time, gentlemen, I will tell you. I will explain +everything.... But now you see that we must hurry. It is time for +lunch and our fellow diners will get tired of waiting."</p> + +<p>"Our fellow diners?"</p> + +<p>"There are two of them," M. Le Mesge explained. "We three constitute +the European personnel of the house, that is, the fixed personnel," he +seemed to feel obliged to add, with his disquieting smile. "Two +strange fellows, gentlemen, with whom, doubtless, you will care to +have as little to do as possible. One is a churchman, narrow-minded, +though a Protestant. The other is a man of the world gone astray, an old fool."</p> + +<p>"Pardon," I said, "but it must have been he whom I heard last night. +He was gambling: with you and the minister, doubtless?"</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge made a gesture of offended dignity.</p> + +<p>"The idea! With me, sir? It is with the Tuareg that he plays. He +teaches them every game imaginable. There, that is he who is striking +the gong to hurry us up. It is half past nine, and the <i>Salle de +Trente et Quarante</i> opens at ten o'clock. Let us hurry. I suppose that +anyway you will not be averse to a little refreshment."</p> + +<p>"Indeed we shall not refuse," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>We followed M. Le Mesge along a long winding corridor with frequent +steps. The passage was dark. But at intervals rose-colored night +lights and incense burners were placed in niches cut into the solid +rock. The passionate Oriental scents perfumed the darkness and +contrasted strangely with the cold air of the snowy peaks.</p> + +<p>From time to time, a white Targa, mute and expressionless as a +phantom, would pass us and we would hear the clatter of his slippers +die away behind us.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stopped before a heavy door covered with the same pale +metal which I had noticed on the walls of the library. He opened it +and stood aside to let us pass.</p> + +<p>Although the dining room which we entered had little in <!-- Page 80 -->common with +European dining rooms, I have known many which might have envied its +comfort. Like the library, it was lighted by a great window. But I +noticed that it had an outside exposure, while that of the library +overlooked the garden in the center of the crown of mountains.</p> + +<p>No center table and none of those barbaric pieces of furniture that we +call chairs. But a great number of buffet tables of gilded wood, like +those of Venice, heavy hangings of dull and subdued colors, and +cushions, Tuareg or Tunisian. In the center was a huge mat on which a +feast was placed in finely woven baskets among silver pitchers and +copper basins filled with perfumed water. The sight of it filled me +with childish satisfaction.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stepped forward and introduced us to the two persons who +already had taken their places on the mat.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Spardek," he said; and by that simple phrase I understood how far +our host placed himself above vain human titles.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Mr. Spardek, of Manchester, bowed reservedly and asked +our permission to keep on his tall, wide-brimmed hat. He was a dry, +cold man, tall and thin. He ate in pious sadness, enormously.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Bielowsky," said M. Le Mesge, introducing us to the second guest.</p> + +<p>"Count Casimir Bielowsky, Hetman of Jitomir," the latter corrected +with perfect good humor as he stood up to shake hands.</p> + +<p>I felt at once a certain liking for the Hetman of Jitomir who was a +perfect example of an old beau. His chocolate-colored hair was parted +in the center (later I found out that the Hetman dyed it with a +concoction of <i>khol</i>). He had magnificent whiskers, also +chocolate-colored, in the style of the Emperor Francis Joseph. His +nose was undeniably a little red, but so fine, so aristocratic. His +hands were marvelous. It took some thought to place the date of the +style of the count's costume, bottle green with yellow facings, +ornamented with a huge seal of silver and enamel. The recollection of +a portrait of the Duke de Morny made me decide on 1860 or 1862; and +the further chapters of this story will show that I was not far wrong.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 81 -->The count made me sit down beside him. One of his first questions was +to demand if I ever cut fives.<a name="FNanchor_J_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_9"><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"That depends on how I feel," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Well said. I have not done so since 1866. I swore off. A row. The +devil of a party. One day at Walewski's. I cut fives. Naturally I +wasn't worrying any. The other had a four. 'Idiot!' cried the little +Baron de Chaux Gisseux who was laying staggering sums on my table. I +hurled a bottle of champagne at his head. He ducked. It was Marshal +Baillant who got the bottle. A scene! The matter was fixed up because +we were both Free Masons. The Emperor made me promise not to cut fives +again. I have kept my promise not to cut fives again. I have kept my +promise. But there are moments when it is hard...."</p> + +<p>He added in a voice steeped in melancholy:</p> + +<p>"Try a little of this Ahaggar 1880. Excellent vintage. It is I, +Lieutenant, who instructed these people in the uses of the juice of +the vine. The vine of the palm trees is very good when it is properly +fermented, but it gets insipid in the long run."</p> + +<p>It was powerful, that Ahaggar 1880. We sipped it from large silver +goblets. It was fresh as Rhine wine, dry as the wine of the Hermitage. +And then, suddenly, it brought back recollections of the burning wines +of Portugal; it seemed sweet, fruity, an admirable wine, I tell you.</p> + +<p>That wine crowned the most perfect of luncheons. There were few meats, +to be sure; but those few were remarkably seasoned. Profusion of +cakes, pancakes served with honey, fragrant fritters, cheese-cakes of +sour milk and dates. And everywhere, in great enamel platters or +wicker jars, fruit, masses of fruit, figs, dates, pistachios, jujubes, +pomegranates, apricots, huge bunches of grapes, larger than those +which bent the shoulders of the Hebrews in the land of Canaan, heavy +watermelons cut in two, showing their moist, red pulp and their rows +of black seeds.</p> + +<p>I had scarcely finished one of these beautiful iced fruits, when M. Le +Mesge rose.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 82 -->Gentlemen, if you are ready," he said to Morhange and me.</p> + +<p>"Get away from that old dotard as soon as you can," whispered the +Hetman of Jitomir to me. "The party of <i>Trente et Quarante</i> will begin +soon. You shall see. You shall see. We go it even harder than at Cora +Pearl's."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," repeated M. Le Mesge in his dry tone.</p> + +<p>We followed him. When the three of us were back again in the library, +he said, addressing me:</p> + +<p>"You, sir, asked a little while ago what occult power holds you here. +Your manner was threatening, and I should have refused to comply had +it not been for your friend, whose knowledge enables him to appreciate +better than you the value of the revelations I am about to make to you."</p> + +<p>He touched a spring in the side of the wall. A cupboard appeared, +stuffed with books. He took one.</p> + +<p>"You are both of you," continued M. Le Mesge, "in the power of a +woman. This woman, the sultaness, the queen, the absolute sovereign of +Ahaggar, is called Antinea. Don't start, M. Morhange, you will soon understand."</p> + +<p>He opened the book and read this sentence:</p> + +<p>"'I must warn you before I take up the subject matter: do not be +surprised to hear me call the barbarians by Greek names.'"</p> + +<p>"What is that book?" stammered Morhange, whose pallor terrified me.</p> + +<p>"This book," M. Le Mesge replied very slowly, weighing his words, with +an extraordinary expression of triumph, "is the greatest, the most +beautiful, the most secret, of the dialogues of Plato; it is the +Critias of Atlantis."</p> + +<p>"The Critias? But it is unfinished," murmured Morhange.</p> + +<p>"It is unfinished in France, in Europe, everywhere else," said M. Le +Mesge, "but it is finished here. Look for yourself at this copy."</p> + +<p>"But what connection," repeated Morhange, while his eyes traveled +avidly over the pages, "what connection can there be between this +dialogue, complete,—yes, it seems to me complete—what connection +with this woman, Antinea? Why should it be in her possession?"</p> + +<!-- Page 83 --> +<p>"Because," replied the little man imperturbably, "this book is her +patent of nobility, her <i>Almanach de Gotha</i>, in a sense, do you +understand? Because it established her prodigious genealogy: because she is...."</p> + +<p>"Because she is?" repeated Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Because she is the grand daughter of Neptune, the last descendant of +the Atlantides."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="IX"><!-- Chapter 9 --></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>ATLANTIS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge looked at Morhange triumphantly. It was evident that he +addressed himself exclusively to Morhange, considering him alone +worthy of his confidences.</p> + +<p>"There have been many, sir," he said, "both French and foreign +officers who have been brought here at the caprice of our sovereign, +Antinea. You are the first to be honored by my disclosures. But you +were the pupil of Berlioux, and I owe so much to the memory of that +great man that it seems to me I may do him homage by imparting to one +of his disciples the unique results of my private research."</p> + +<p>He struck the bell. Ferradji appeared.</p> + +<p>"Coffee for these gentlemen," ordered M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He handed us a box, gorgeously decorated in the most flaming colors, +full of Egyptian cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"I never smoke," he explained. "But Antinea sometimes comes here. +These are her cigarettes. Help yourselves, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>I have always had a horror of that pale tobacco which gives a barber +of the Rue de la Michodière the illusion of oriental voluptuousness. +But, in their way, these musk-scented cigarettes were not bad, and it +was a long time since I had used up my stock of Caporal.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 84 -->Here are the back numbers of <i>Le Vie Parisienne</i>" said M. Le Mesge +to me. "Amuse yourself with them, if you like, while I talk to your friend."</p> + +<p>"Sir," I replied brusquely, "it is true that I never studied with +Berlioux. Nevertheless, you must allow me to listen to your +conversation: I shall hope to find something in it to amuse me."</p> + +<p>"As you wish," said the little old man.</p> + +<p>We settled ourselves comfortably. M. Le Mesge sat down before the +desk, shot his cuffs, and commenced as follows:</p> + +<p>"However much, gentlemen, I prize complete objectivity in matters of +erudition, I cannot utterly detach my own history from that of the +last descendant of Clito and Neptune.</p> + +<p>"I am the creation of my own efforts. From my childhood, the +prodigious impulse given to the science of history by the nineteenth +century has affected me. I saw where my way led. I have followed it, +in spite of everything.</p> + +<p>"In spite of everything, everything—I mean it literally. With no +other resources than my own work and merit, I was received as Fellow +of History and Geography at the examination of 1880. A great +examination! Among the thirteen who were accepted there were names +which have since become illustrious: Julian, Bourgeois, Auerbach.... I +do not envy my colleagues on the summits of their official honors; I +read their works with commiseration; and the pitiful errors to which +they are condemned by the insufficiency of their documents would amply +counterbalance my chagrin and fill me with ironic joy, had I not been +raised long since above the satisfaction of self-love.</p> + +<p>"When I was Professor at the Lycée du Parc at Lyons. I knew Berlioux +and followed eagerly his works on African History. I had, at that +time, a very original idea for my doctor's thesis. I was going to +establish a parallel between the Berber heroine of the seventh +century, who struggled against the Arab invader, Kahena, and the +French heroine, Joan of Arc, who struggled against the English +invader. I proposed to the <i>Faculté des Lettres</i> at Paris this title +for my thesis: <i>Joan of Arc and the Tuareg</i>. This simple announcement +gave rise to a perfect outcry in learned circles, a furor of +<!-- Page 85 -->ridicule. My friends warned me discreetly. I refused to believe them. +Finally I was forced to believe when my rector summoned me before him +and, after manifesting an astonishing interest in my health, asked +whether I should object to taking two years' leave on half pay. I +refused indignantly. The rector did not insist; but fifteen days +later, a ministerial decree, with no other legal procedure, assigned +me to one of the most insignificant and remote Lycées of France, at +Mont-de-Marsan.</p> + +<p>"Realize my exasperation and you will excuse the excesses to which I +delivered myself in that strange country. What is there to do in +Landes, if you neither eat nor drink? I did both violently. My pay +melted away in <i>fois gras</i>, in woodcocks, in fine wines. The result +came quickly enough: in less than a year my joints began to crack like +the over-oiled axle of a bicycle that has gone a long way upon a dusty +track. A sharp attack of gout nailed me to my bed. Fortunately, in +that blessed country, the cure is in reach of the suffering. So I +departed to Dax, at vacation time, to try the waters.</p> + +<p>"I rented a room on the bank of the Adour, overlooking the <i>Promenade +des Baignots</i>. A charwoman took care of it for me. She worked also for +an old gentleman, a retired Examining Magistrate, President of the +Roger-Ducos Society, which was a vague scientific backwater, in which +the scholars of the neighborhood applied themselves with prodigious +incompetence to the most whimsical subjects. One afternoon I stayed in +my room on account of a very heavy rain. The good woman was +energetically polishing the copper latch of my door. She used a paste +called Tripoli, which she spread upon a paper and rubbed and +rubbed.... The peculiar appearance of the paper made me curious. I +glanced at it. 'Great heavens! Where did you get this paper?' She was +perturbed. 'At my master's; he has lots of it. I tore this out of a +notebook.' 'Here are ten francs. Go and get me the notebook.'</p> + +<p>"A quarter of an hour later, she was back with it. By good luck it +lacked only one page, the one with which she had been polishing my +door. This manuscript, this notebook, have you any idea what it was? +Merely the <i>Voyage to Atlantis</i> <!-- Page 86 -->of the mythologist Denis de Milet, +which is mentioned by Diodorus and the loss of which I had so often +heard Berlioux deplore.<a name="FNanchor_K_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_10"><sup>[10]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"This inestimable document contained numerous quotations from the +Critias. It gave an abstract of the illustrious dialogue, the sole +existing copy of which you held in your hands a little while ago. It +established past controversy the location of the stronghold of the +Atlantides, and demonstrated that this site, which is denied by +science, was not submerged by the waves, as is supposed by the rare +and timorous defenders of the Atlantide hypothesis. He called it the +'central Mazycian range,' You know there is no longer any doubt as to +the identification of the Mazyces of Herodotus with the people of +Imoschaoch, the Tuareg. But the manuscript of Denys unquestionably +identifies the historical Mazyces with the Atlantides of the supposed legend.</p> + +<p>"I learned, therefore, from Denys, not only that the central part of +Atlantis, the cradle and home of the dynasty of Neptune, had not sunk +in the disaster described by Plato as engulfing the rest of the +Atlantide isle, but also that it corresponded to the Tuareg Ahaggar, +and that, in this Ahaggar, at least in his time, the noble dynasty of +Neptune was supposed to be still existent.</p> + +<p>"The historians of Atlantis put the date of the cataclysm which +destroyed all or part of that famous country at nine thousand years +before Christ. If Denis de Milet, who wrote scarcely three thousand +years ago, believed that in his time, the dynastic issue of Neptune +was still ruling its dominion, you will understand that I thought +immediately—what has lasted nine thousand years may last eleven +thousand. From that instant I had only one aim: to find the possible +descendants of the Atlantides, and, since I had many reasons for +supposing them to be debased and ignorant of their original splendor, +to inform them of their illustrious descent.</p> +<!-- Page 87 --> + +<p>"You will easily understand that I imparted none of my intentions to +my superiors at the University. To solicit their approval or even +their permission, considering the attitude they had taken toward me, +would have been almost certainly to invite confinement in a cell. So I +raised what I could on my own account, and departed without trumpet or +drum for Oran. On the first of October I reached In-Salah. Stretched +at my ease beneath a palm tree, at the oasis, I took infinite pleasure +in considering how, that very day, the principal of Mont-de-Marsan, +beside himself, struggling to control twenty horrible urchins howling +before the door of an empty class room, would be telegraphing wildly +in all directions in search of his lost history professor."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stopped and looked at us to mark his satisfaction.</p> + +<p>I admit that I forgot my dignity and I forgot the affectation he had +steadily assumed of talking only to Morhange.</p> + +<p>"You will pardon me, sir, if your discourse interests me more than I +had anticipated. But you know very well that I lack the fundamental +instruction necessary to understand you. You speak of the dynasty of +Neptune. What is this dynasty, from which, I believe, you trace the +descent of Antinea? What is her rôle in the story of Atlantis?"</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge smiled with condescension, meantime winking at Morhange +with the eye nearest to him. Morhange was listening without +expression, without a word, chin in hand, elbow on knee.</p> + +<p>"Plato will answer for me, sir," said the Professor.</p> + +<p>And he added, with an accent of inexpressible pity:</p> + +<p>"Is it really possible that you have never made the acquaintance of +the introduction to the Critias?"</p> + +<p>He placed on the table the book by which Morhange had been so +strangely moved. He adjusted his spectacles and began to read. It +seemed as if the magic of Plato vibrated through and transfigured this +ridiculous little old man.</p> + +<p>"'Having drawn by lot the different parts of the earth, the gods +obtained, some a larger, and some, a smaller share. It was thus that +Neptune, having received in the division the isle of Atlantis, came to +place the children he had had <!-- Page 88 -->by a mortal in one part of that isle. +It was not far from the sea, a plain situated in the midst of the +isle, the most beautiful, and, they say, the most fertile of plains. +About fifty stades from that plain, in the middle of the isle, was a +mountain. There dwelt one of those men who, in the very beginning, was +born of the Earth, Evenor, with his wife, Leucippe. They had only one +daughter, Clito. She was marriageable when her mother and father died, +and Neptune, being enamored of her, married her. Neptune fortified the +mountain where she dwelt by isolating it. He made alternate girdles of +sea and land, the one smaller, the others greater, two of earth and +three of water, and centered them round the isle in such a manner that +they were at all parts equally distant!..."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge broke off his reading.</p> + +<p>"Does this arrangement recall nothing to you?" he queried.</p> + +<p>"Morhange, Morhange!" I stammered. "You remember—our route yesterday, +our abduction, the two corridors that we had to cross before arriving +at this mountain?... The girdles of earth and of water?... Two +tunnels, two enclosures of earth?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha!" chuckled M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He smiled as he looked at me. I understood that this smile meant: "Can +he be less obtuse than I had supposed?"</p> + +<p>As if with a mighty effort, Morhange broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"I understand well enough, I understand.... The three girdles of +water.... But then, you are supposing, sir,—an explanation the +ingeniousness of which I do not contest—you are supposing the exact +hypothesis of the Saharan sea!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it, and I can prove it," replied the irascible little old +chap, banging his fist on the table. "I know well enough what Schirmer +and the rest have advanced against it. I know it better than you do. I +know all about it, sir. I can present all the proofs for your +consideration. And in the meantime, this evening at dinner, you will +no doubt enjoy some excellent fish. And you will tell me if these +fish, caught in the lake that you can see from this window, seem to +you fresh water fish.</p> + +<p>"You must realize," he continued, "the mistake of those who, believing +in Atlantis, have sought to explain the cata<!-- Page 89 -->clysm in which they +suppose the island to have sunk. Without exception, they have thought +that it was swallowed up. Actually, there has not been an immersion. +There has been an emersion. New lands have emerged from the Atlantic +wave. The desert has replaced the sea, the <i>sebkhas</i>, the salt lakes, +the Triton lakes, the sandy Syrtes are the desolate vestiges of the +free sea water over which, in former days, the fleets swept with a +fair wind towards the conquest of Attica. Sand swallows up +civilization better than water. To-day there remains nothing of the +beautiful isle that the sea and winds kept gay and verdant but this +chalky mass. Nothing has endured in this rocky basin, cut off forever +from the living world, but the marvelous oasis that you have at your +feet, these red fruits, this cascade, this blue lake, sacred witnesses +to the golden age that is gone. Last evening, in coming here, you had +to cross the five enclosures: the three belts of water, dry forever; +the two girdles of earth through which are hollowed the passages you +traversed on camel back, where, formerly, the triremes floated. The +only thing that, in this immense catastrophe, has preserved its +likeness to its former state, is this mountain, the mountain where +Neptune shut up his well-beloved Clito, the daughter of Evenor and +Leucippe, the mother of Atlas, and the ancestress of Antinea, the +sovereign under whose dominion you are about to enter forever."</p> + +<p>"Sir," Morhange with the most exquisite courtesy, "it would be only a +natural anxiety which would urge us to inquire the reasons and the end +of this dominion. But behold to what extent your revelation interests +me; I defer this question of private interest. Of late, in two +caverns, it has been my fortune to discover Tifinar inscriptions of +this name, Antinea. My comrade is witness that I took it for a Greek +name. I understand now, thanks to you and the divine Plato, that I +need no longer feel surprised to hear a barbarian called by a Greek +name. But I am no less perplexed as to the etymology of the word. Can +you enlighten me?"</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not fail you there, sir," said M. Le Mesge. "I may +tell you, too, that you are not the first to put to me that question. +Most of the explorers that I have seen enter here in the past ten +years have been attracted in the <!-- Page 90 -->same way, intrigued by this Greek +work reproduced in Tifinar. I have even arranged a fairly exact +catalogue of these inscriptions and the caverns where they are to be +met with. All, or almost all, are accompanied by this legend: +<i>Antinea. Here commences her domain</i>. I myself have had repainted with +ochre such as were beginning to be effaced. But, to return to what I +was telling you before, none of the Europeans who have followed this +epigraphic mystery here, have kept their anxiety to solve this +etymology once they found themselves in Antinea's palace. They all +become otherwise preoccupied. I might make many disclosures as to the +little real importance which purely scientific interests possess even +for scholars, and the quickness with which they sacrifice them to the +most mundane considerations—their own lives, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Let us take that up another time, sir, if it is satisfactory to you," +said Morhange, always admirably polite.</p> + +<p>"This digression had only one point, sir: to show you that I do not +count you among these unworthy scholars. You are really eager to know +the origin of this name, <i>Antinea</i>, and that before knowing what kind +of woman it belongs to and her motives for holding you and this +gentleman as her prisoners."</p> + +<p>I stared hard at the little old man. But he spoke with profound +seriousness.</p> + +<p>"So much the better for you, my boy," I thought. "Otherwise it +wouldn't have taken me long to send you through the window to air your +ironies at your ease. The law of gravity ought not to be topsy-turvy +here at Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>"You, no doubt, formulated several hypotheses when you first +encountered the name, Antinea," continued M. Le Mesge, imperturbable +under my fixed gaze, addressing himself to Morhange. "Would you object +to repeating them to me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, sir," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>And, very composedly, he enumerated the etymological suggestions I +have given previously.</p> + +<p>The little man with the cherry-colored shirt front rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>"Very good," he admitted with an accent of intense jubilation. +"Amazingly good, at least for one with only the <!-- Page 91 -->modicum of Greek that +you possess. But it is all none the less false, super-false."</p> + +<p>"It is because I suspected as much that I put my question to you," +said Morhange blandly.</p> + +<p>"I will not keep you longer in suspense," said M. Le Mesge. "The word, +Antinea, is composed as follows: <i>ti</i> is nothing but a Tifinar +addition to an essentially Greek name. <i>Ti</i> is the Berber feminine +article. We have several examples of this combination. Take <i>Tipasa</i>, +the North African town. The name means the whole, from <i>ti</i> and from +<img src="images/tfnr91_1.gif" width="83" height="29" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. So, <i>tinea</i> signifies the new, from <i>ti</i> and from +<img src="images/tfnr91_2.gif" width="49" height="25" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +."</p> + +<p>"And the prefix, <i>an</i>?" queried Morhang.</p> + +<p>"Is it possible, sir, that I have put myself to the trouble of talking +to you for a solid hour about the Critias with such trifling effect? +It is certain that the prefix <i>an</i>, alone, has no meaning. You will +understand that it has one, when I tell you that we have here a very +curious case of apocope. You must not read <i>an</i>; you must read +<i>atlan</i>. <i>Atl</i> has been lost, by apocope; <i>an</i> has survived. To sum +up, Antinea is composed in the following manner: +<img src="images/tfnr91_3.gif" width="135" height="28" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +— +<img src="images/tfnr91_4.gif" width="126" height="36" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. And its meaning, <i>the new Atlantis</i>, is dazzlingly apparent from this demonstration."</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange. His astonishment was without bounds. The Berber +prefix <i>ti</i> had literally stunned him.</p> + +<p>"Have you had occasion, sir, to verify this very ingenious etymology?" +he was finally able to gasp out.</p> + +<p>"You have only to glance over these few books," said M. Le Mesge +disdainfully.</p> + +<p>He opened successively five, ten, twenty cupboards. An enormous +library was spread out to our view.</p> + +<p>"Everything, everything—it is all here," murmured Morhange, with an +astonishing inflection of terror and admiration.</p> + +<p>"Everything that is worth consulting, at any rate," said M. Le Mesge. +"All the great books, whose loss the so-called learned world deplores +to-day."</p> + +<p>"And how has it happened?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, you distress me. I thought you familiar with certain events. You +are forgetting, then, the passage where Pliny the Elder speaks of the +library of Carthage and the treasures which were accumulated there? In +146, when that city fell <!-- Page 92 -->under the blows of the knave, Scipio, the +incredible collection of illiterates who bore the name of the Roman +Senate had only the profoundest contempt for these riches. They +presented them to the native kings. This is how Mantabal received this +priceless heritage; it was transmitted to his son and grandson, +Hiempsal, Juba I, Juba II, the husband of the admirable Cleopatra +Selene, the daughter of the great Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Cleopatra +Selene had a daughter who married an Atlantide king. This is how +Antinea, the daughter of Neptune, counts among her ancestors the +immortal queen of Egypt. That is how, by following the laws of +inheritance, the remains of the library of Carthage, enriched by the +remnants of the library of Alexandria, are actually before your eyes.</p> + +<p>"Science fled from man. While he was building those monstrous Babels +of pseudo-science in Berlin, London, Paris, Science was taking refuge +in this desert corner of Ahaggar. They may well forge their hypotheses +back there, based on the loss of the mysterious works of antiquity: +these works are not lost. They are here. They are here: the Hebrew, +the Chaldean, the Assyrian books. Here, the great Egyptian traditions +which inspired Solon, Herodotus and Plato. Here, the Greek +mythologists, the magicians of Roman Africa, the Indian mystics, all +the treasures, in a word, for the lack of which contemporary +dissertations are poor laughable things. Believe me, he is well +avenged, the little universitarian whom they took for a madman, whom +they defied. I have lived, I live, I shall live in a perpetual burst +of laughter at their false and garbled erudition. And when I shall be +dead, Error,—thanks to the jealous precaution of Neptune taken to +isolate his well-beloved Clito from the rest of the world,—Error, I +say, will continue to reign as sovereign mistress over their pitiful +compositions."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Morhange in grave voice, "you have just affirmed the +influence of Egypt on the civilizations of the people here. For +reasons which some day, perhaps, I shall have occasion to explain to +you, I would like to have proof of that relationship."</p> + +<p>"We need not wait for that, sir," said M. Le Mesge. Then, in my turn, +I advanced.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 93 -->Two words, if you please, sir," I said brutally. "I will not hide +from you that these historical discussions seem to me absolutely out +of place. It is not my fault if you have had trouble with the +University, and if you are not to-day at the College of France or +elsewhere. For the moment, just one thing concerns me: to know just +what this lady, Antinea, wants with us. My comrade would like to know +her relation with ancient Egypt: very well. For my part, I desire +above everything to know her relations with the government of Algeria +and the Arabian Bureau."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge gave a strident laugh.</p> + +<p>"I am going to give you an answer that will satisfy you both," he +replied.</p> + +<p>And he added:</p> + +<p>"Follow me. It is time that you should learn."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="X"><!-- Chapter 10 --></a>X</h2> + +<h3>THE RED MARBLE HALL</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>We passed through an interminable series of stairs and corridors +following M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>"You lose all sense of direction in this labyrinth," I muttered to +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Worse still, you will lose your head," answered my companion <i>sotto +voce</i>. "This old fool is certainly very learned; but God knows what he +is driving at. However, he has promised that we are soon to know."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge had stopped before a heavy dark door, all incrusted with +strange symbols. Turning the lock with difficulty, he opened it.</p> + +<p>"Enter, gentlemen, I beg you," he said.</p> + +<p>A gust of cold air struck us full in the face. The room we were +entering was chill as a vault.</p> + +<p>At first, the darkness allowed me to form no idea of its proportions. +The lighting, purposely subdued, consisted of twelve enormous copper +lamps, placed column-like upon the ground and burning with brilliant +red flames. As we entered, <!-- Page 94 -->the wind from the corridor made the flames +flicker, momentarily casting about us our own enlarged and misshapen +shadows. Then the gust died down, and the flames, no longer flurried, +again licked up the darkness with their motionless red tongues.</p> + +<p>These twelve giant lamps (each one about ten feet high) were arranged +in a kind of crown, the diameter of which must have been about fifty +feet. In the center of this circle was a dark mass, all streaked with +trembling red reflections. When I drew nearer, I saw it was a bubbling +fountain. It was the freshness of this water which had maintained the +temperature of which I have spoken.</p> + +<p>Huge seats were cut in the central rock from which gushed the +murmuring, shadowy fountain. They were heaped with silky cushions. +Twelve incense burners, within the circle of red lamps, formed a +second crown, half as large in diameter. Their smoke mounted toward +the vault, invisible in the darkness, but their perfume, combined with +the coolness and sound of the water, banished from the soul all other +desire than to remain there forever.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge made us sit down in the center of the hall, on the +Cyclopean seats. He seated himself between us.</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes," he said, "your eyes will grow accustomed to the +obscurity."</p> + +<p>I noticed that he spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were in church.</p> + +<p>Little by little, our eyes did indeed grow used to the red light. Only +the lower part of the great hall was illuminated. The whole vault was +drowned in shadow and its height was impossible to estimate. Vaguely, +I could perceive overhead a great smooth gold chandelier, flecked, +like everything else, with sombre red reflections. But there was no +means of judging the length of the chain by which it hung from the +dark ceiling.</p> + +<p>The marble of the pavement was of so high a polish, that the great +torches were reflected even there.</p> + +<p>This room, I repeat, was round a perfect circle of which the fountain +at our backs was the center.</p> + +<p>We sat facing the curving walls. Before long, we began to be able to +see them. They were of peculiar construction, <!-- Page 95 -->divided into a series +of niches, broken, ahead of us, by the door which had just opened to +give us passage, behind us, by a second door, a still darker hole +which I divined in the darkness when I turned around. From one door to +the other, I counted sixty niches, making, in all, one hundred and +twenty. Each was about ten feet high. Each contained a kind of case, +larger above than below, closed only at the lower end. In all these +cases, except two just opposite me, I thought I could discern a +brilliant shape, a human shape certainly, something like a statue of +very pale bronze. In the arc of the circle before me, I counted +clearly thirty of these strange statues.</p> + +<p>What were these statues? I wanted to see. I rose.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge put his hand on my arm.</p> + +<p>"In good time," he murmured in the same low voice, "all in good time."</p> + +<p>The Professor was watching the door by which we had entered the hall, +and from behind which we could hear the sound of footsteps becoming +more and more distinct.</p> + +<p>It opened quietly to admit three Tuareg slaves. Two of them were +carrying a long package on their shoulders; the third seemed to be +their chief.</p> + +<p>At a sign from him, they placed the package on the ground and drew out +from one of the niches the case which it contained.</p> + +<p>"You may approach, gentlemen," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He motioned the three Tuareg to withdraw several paces.</p> + +<p>"You asked me, not long since, for some proof of the Egyptian +influence on this country," said M. Le Mesge. "What do you say to that +case, to begin with?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he pointed to the case that the servants had deposited +upon the ground after they took it from its niche.</p> + +<p>Morhange uttered a thick cry.</p> + +<p>We had before us one of those cases designed for the preservation of +mummies. The same shiny wood, the same bright decorations, the only +difference being that here Tifinar writing replaced the hieroglyphics. +The form, narrow at the base, broader above, ought to have been enough +to enlighten us.</p> + +<p>I have already said that the lower half of this large case <!-- Page 96 -->was +closed, giving the whole structure the appearance of a rectangular +wooden shoe.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge knelt and fastened on the lower part of the case, a square +of white cardboard, a large label, that he had picked up from his +desk, a few minutes before, on leaving the library.</p> + +<p>"You may read," he said simply, but still in the same low tone.</p> + +<p>I knelt also, for the light of the great candelabra was scarcely +sufficient to read the label where, none the less, I recognized the +Professor's handwriting.</p> + +<p>It bore these few words, in a large round hand:</p> + +<p>"Number 53. Major Sir Archibald Russell. Born at Richmond, July 5, +1860. Died at Ahaggar, December 3, 1896."</p> + +<p>I leapt to my feet.</p> + +<p>"Major Russell!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not so loud, not so loud," said M. Le Mesge. "No one speaks out loud +here."</p> + +<p>"The Major Russell," I repeated, obeying his injunction as if in spite +of myself, "who left Khartoum last year, to explore Sokoto?"</p> + +<p>"The same," replied the Professor.</p> + +<p>"And ... where is Major Russell?"</p> + +<p>"He is there," replied M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>The Professor made a gesture. The Tuareg approached.</p> + +<p>A poignant silence reigned in the mysterious hall, broken only by the +fresh splashing of the fountain.</p> + +<p>The three Negroes were occupied in undoing the package that they had +put down near the painted case. Weighed down with wordless horror, +Morhange and I stood watching.</p> + +<p>Soon, a rigid form, a human form, appeared. A red gleam played over +it. We had before us, stretched out upon the ground, a statue of pale +bronze, wrapped in a kind of white veil, a statue like those all +around us, upright in their niches. It seemed to fix us with an +impenetrable gaze.</p> + +<p>"Sir Archibald Russell," murmured M. Le Mesge slowly.</p> + +<p>Morhange approached, speechless, but strong enough to lift up the +white veil. For a long, long time he gazed at the sad bronze statue.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 97 -->A mummy, a mummy?" he said finally. "You deceive yourself, sir, this +is no mummy."</p> + +<p>"Accurately speaking, no," replied M. Le Mesge. "This is not a mummy. +None the less, you have before you the mortal remains of Sir Archibald +Russell. I must point out to you, here, my dear sir, that the +processes of embalming used by Antinea differ from the processes +employed in ancient Egypt. Here, there is no natron, nor bands, nor +spices. The industry of Ahaggar, in a single effort, has achieved a +result obtained by European science only after long experiments. +Imagine my surprise, when I arrived here and found that they were +employing a method I supposed known only to the civilized world."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge struck a light tap with his finger on the forehead of Sir +Archibald Russell. It rang like metal.</p> + +<p>"It is bronze," I said. "That is not a human forehead: it is bronze."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It is a human forehead," he affirmed curtly, "and not bronze. Bronze +is darker, sir. This is the great unknown metal of which Plato speaks +in the Critias, and which is something between gold and silver: it is +the special metal of the mountains of the Atlantides. It is +<i>orichalch</i>."</p> + +<p>Bending again, I satisfied myself that this metal was the same as that +with which the walls of the library were overcast.</p> + +<p>"It is orichalch," continued M. Le Mesge. "You look as if you had no +idea how a human body can look like a statue of orichalch. Come, +Captain Morhange, you whom I gave credit for a certain amount of +knowledge, have you never heard of the method of Dr. Variot, by which +a human body can be preserved without embalming? Have you never read +the book of that practitioner?<a name="FNanchor_L_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_11"><sup>[11]</sup></a> +He explains a method called electro-plating. The skin is coated with a very thin layer of silver +salts, to make it a conductor. The body then is placed in a solution, +of copper sulphate, and the polar currents do their work. The body of +this estimable English major has been <!-- Page 98 -->metalized in the same manner, +except that a solution of orichalch sulphate, a very rare substance, +has been substituted for that of copper sulphate. Thus, instead of the +statue of a poor slave, a copper statue, you have before you a statue +of metal more precious than silver or gold, in a word, a statue worthy +of the granddaughter of Neptune."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge waved his arm. The black slaves seized the body. In a few +seconds, they slid the orichalch ghost into its painted wooden sheath. +That was set on end and slid into its niche, beside the niche where an +exactly similar sheath was labelled "Number 52."</p> + +<p>Upon finishing their task, they retired without a word. A draught of +cold air from the door again made the flames of the copper torches +flicker and threw great shadows about us.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I remained as motionless as the pale metal specters which +surrounded us. Suddenly I pulled myself together and staggered forward +to the niche beside that in which they just had laid the remains of +the English major. I looked for the label.</p> + +<p>Supporting myself against the red marble wall, I read:</p> + +<p>"Number 52. Captain Laurent Deligne. Born at Paris, July 22, 1861. +Died at Ahaggar, October 30, 1896."</p> + +<p>"Captain Deligne!" murmured Morhange. "He left Colomb-Béchar in 1895 +for Timmimoun and no more has been heard of him since then."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge, with a little nod of approval.</p> + +<p>"Number 51," read Morhange with chattering teeth. "Colonel von +Wittman, born at Jena in 1855. Died at Ahaggar, May 1, 1896.... +Colonel Wittman, the explorer of Kanem, who disappeared off Agadès."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again.</p> + +<p>"Number 50," I read in my turn, steadying myself against the wall, so +as not to fall. "Marquis Alonzo d'Oliveira, born at Cadiz, February +21, 1868. Died at Ahaggar, February 1, 1896. Oliveira, who was going +to Araouan."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. "That Spaniard was one of the best +educated. I used to have interesting discussions with him on the exact +geographical position of the kingdom of Antée."</p> + +<p>"Number 49," said Morhange in a tone scarcely more than <!-- Page 99 -->a whisper. +"Lieutenant Woodhouse, born at Liverpool, September 16, 1870. Died at +Ahaggar, October 4, 1895."</p> + +<p>"Hardly more than a child," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>"Number 48," I said. "Lieutenant Louis de Maillefeu, born at Provins, +the...."</p> + +<p>I did not finish. My voice choked.</p> + +<p>Louis de Maillefeu, my best friend, the friend of my childhood and of +Saint-Cyr.... I looked at him and recognized him under the metallic +coating. Louis de Maillefeu!</p> + +<p>I laid my forehead against the cold wall and, with shaking shoulders, +began to sob.</p> + +<p>I heard the muffled voice of Morhange speaking to the Professor:</p> + +<p>"Sir, this has lasted long enough. Let us make an end of it."</p> + +<p>"He wanted to know," said M. Le Mesge. "What am I to do?"</p> + +<p>I went up to him and seized his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What happened to him? What did he die of?"</p> + +<p>"Just like the others," the Professor replied, "just like Lieutenant +Woodhouse, like Captain Deligne, like Major Russell, like Colonel von +Wittman, like the forty-seven of yesterday and all those of +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Of what did they die?" Morhange demanded imperatively in his turn.</p> + +<p>The Professor looked at Morhange. I saw my comrade grow pale.</p> + +<p>"Of what did they die, sir? <i>They died of love</i>."</p> + +<p>And he added in a very low, very grave voice:</p> + +<p>"Now you know."</p> + +<p>Gently and with a tact which we should hardly have suspected in him, +M. Le Mesge drew us away from the statues. A moment later, Morhange +and I found ourselves again seated, or rather sunk among the cushions +in the center of the room. The invisible fountain murmured its plaint +at our feet.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge sat between us.</p> + +<p>"Now you know," he repeated. "You know, but you do not yet +understand."</p> + +<p>Then, very slowly, he said:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 100 -->You are, as they have been, the prisoners of Antinea. And vengeance +is due Antinea."</p> + +<p>"Vengeance?" said Morhange, who had regained his self-possession. "For +what, I beg to ask? What have the lieutenant and I done to Atlantis? +How have we incurred her hatred?"</p> + +<p>"It is an old quarrel, a very old quarrel," the Professor replied +gravely. "A quarrel which long antedates you, M. Morhange."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself, I beg of you, Professor."</p> + +<p>"You are Man. She is a Woman," said the dreamy voice of M. Le Mesge. +"The whole matter lies there."</p> + +<p>"Really, sir, I do not see ... we do not see."</p> + +<p>"You are going to understand. Have you really forgotten to what an +extent the beautiful queens of antiquity had just cause to complain of +the strangers whom fortune brought to their borders? The poet, Victor +Hugo, pictured their detestable acts well enough in his colonial poem +called <i>la Fille d'O-Taiti</i>. Wherever we look, we see similar examples +of fraud and ingratitude. These gentlemen made free use of the beauty +and the riches of the lady. Then, one fine morning, they disappeared. +She was indeed lucky if her lover, having observed the position +carefully, did not return with ships and troops of occupation."</p> + +<p>"Your learning charms me," said Morhange. "Continue."</p> + +<p>"Do you need examples? Alas! they abound. Think of the cavalier +fashion in which Ulysses treated Calypso, Diomedes Callirhoë. What +should I say of Theseus and Ariadne? Jason treated Medea with +inconceivable lightness. The Romans continued the tradition with still +greater brutality. Aenaeus, who has many characteristics in common +with the Reverend Spardek, treated Dido in a most undeserved fashion. +Caesar was a laurel-crowned blackguard in his relations with the +divine Cleopatra. Titus, that hypocrite Titus, after having lived a +whole year in Idummea at the expense of the plaintive Berenice, took +her back to Rome only to make game of her. It is time that the sons of +Japhet paid this formidable reckoning of injuries to the daughters of +Shem.</p> + +<p>"A woman has taken it upon herself to re-establish the great Hegelian +law of equilibrium for the benefit of her sex. <!-- Page 101 -->Separated from the +Aryan world by the formidable precautions of Neptune, she draws the +youngest and bravest to her. Her body is condescending, while her +spirit is inexorable. She takes what these bold young men can give +her. She lends them her body, while her soul dominates them. She is +the first sovereign who has never been made the slave of passion, even +for a moment. She has never been obliged to regain her self-mastery, +for she never has lost it. She is the only woman who has been able to +disassociate those two inextricable things, love and voluptuousness."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge paused a moment and then went on.</p> + +<p>"Once every day, she comes to this vault. She stops before the niches; +she meditates before the rigid statues; she touches the cold bosoms, +so burning when she knew them. Then, after dreaming before the empty +niche where the next victim soon will sleep his eternal sleep in a +cold case of orichalch, she returns nonchalantly where he is waiting +for her."</p> + +<p>The Professor stopped speaking. The fountain again made itself heard +in the midst of the shadow. My pulses beat, my head seemed on fire. A +fever was consuming me.</p> + +<p>"And all of them," I cried, regardless of the place, "all of them +complied! They submitted! Well, she has only to come and she will see +what will happen."</p> + +<p>Morhange was silent.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," said M. Le Mesge in a very gentle voice, "you are +speaking like a child. You do not know. You have not seen Antinea. Let +me tell you one thing: that among those"—and with a sweeping gesture +he indicated the silent circle of statues—"there were men as +courageous as you and perhaps less excitable. I remember one of them +especially well, a phlegmatic Englishman who now is resting under +Number 32. When he first appeared before Antinea, he was smoking a +cigar. And, like all the rest, he bent before the gaze of his +sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Do not speak until you have seen her. A university training hardly +fits one to discourse upon matters of passion, and I feel scarcely +qualified, myself, to tell you what Antinea is. I only affirm this, +that when you have seen her, you will remember nothing else. Family, +country, honor, you will renounce everything for her."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 102 -->Everything?" asked Morhange in a calm voice.</p> + +<p>"Everything," Le Mesge insisted emphatically. "You will forget all, +you will renounce all."</p> + +<p>From outside, a faint sound came to us.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge consulted his watch.</p> + +<p>"In any case, you will see."</p> + +<p>The door opened. A tall white Targa, the tallest we had yet seen in +this remarkable abode, entered and came toward us.</p> + +<p>He bowed and touched me lightly on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Follow him," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>Without a word, I obeyed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XI"><!-- Chapter 11 --></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>ANTINEA</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>My guide and I passed along another long corridor. My excitement +increased. I was impatient for one thing only, to come face to face +with that woman, to tell her.... So far as anything else was +concerned, I already was done for.</p> + +<p>I was mistaken in hoping that the adventure would take an heroic turn +at once. In real life, these contrasts never are definitely marked +out. I should have remembered from many past incidents that the +burlesque was regularly mixed with the tragic in my life.</p> + +<p>We reached a little transparent door. My guide stood aside to let me +pass.</p> + +<p>I found myself in the most luxurious of dressing-rooms. A ground glass +ceiling diffused a gay rosy light over the marble floor. The first +thing I noticed was a clock, fastened to the wall. In place of the +figures for the hours, were the signs of the Zodiac. The small hand +had not yet reached the sign of Capricorn.</p> + +<p>Only three o'clock!</p> + +<p>The day seemed to have lasted a century already.... And only a little +more than half of it was gone.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 103 -->Another idea came to me, and a convulsive laugh bent me double.</p> + +<p>"Antinea wants me to be at my best when I meet her."</p> + +<p>A mirror of orichalch formed one whole side of the room. Glancing into +it, I realized that in all decency there was nothing exaggerated in +the demand.</p> + +<p>My untrimmed beard, the frightful layer of dirt which lay about my +eyes and furrowed my cheeks, my clothing, spotted by all the clay of +the Sahara and torn by all the thorns of Ahaggar—all this made me +appear a pitiable enough suitor.</p> + +<p>I lost no time in undressing and plunging into the porphry bath in the +center of the room. A delicious drowsiness came over me in that +perfumed water. A thousand little jars, spread on a costly carved wood +dressing-table, danced before my eyes. They were of all sizes and +colors, carved in a very transparent kind of jade. The warm humidity +of the atmosphere hastened my relaxation.</p> + +<p>I still had strength to think, "The devil take Atlantis and the vault +and Le Mesge."</p> + +<p>Then I fell asleep in the bath.</p> + +<p>When I opened my eyes again, the little hand of the clock had almost +reached the sign of Taurus. Before me, his black hands braced on the +edge of the bath, stood a huge Negro, bare-faced and bare-armed, his +forehead bound with an immense orange turban.</p> + +<p>He looked at me and showed his white teeth in a silent laugh.</p> + +<p>"Who is this fellow?"</p> + +<p>The Negro laughed harder. Without saying a word, he lifted me like a +feather out of the perfumed water, now of a color on which I shall not +dwell.</p> + +<p>In no time at all, I was stretched out on an inclined marble table.</p> + +<p>The Negro began to massage me vigorously.</p> + +<p>"More gently there, fellow!"</p> + +<p>My masseur did not reply, but laughed and rubbed still harder.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from? Kanem? Torkou? You laugh too much for a +Targa."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 104 -->Unbroken silence. The Negro was as speechless as he was hilarious.</p> + +<p>"After all, I am making a fool of myself," I said, giving up the case. +"Such as he is, he is more agreeable than Le Mesge with his +nightmarish erudition. But, on my word, what a recruit he would be for +Hamman on the rue des Mathurins!"</p> + +<p>"Cigarette, sidi?"</p> + +<p>Without awaiting my reply, he placed a cigarette between my lips and +lighted it, and resumed his task of polishing every inch of me.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't talk much, but he is obliging," I thought.</p> + +<p>And I sent a puff of smoke into his face.</p> + +<p>This pleasantry seemed to delight him immensely. He showed his +pleasure by giving me great slaps.</p> + +<p>When he had dressed me down sufficiently, he took a little jar from +the dressing-table and began to rub me with a rose-colored ointment. +Weariness seemed to fly away from my rejuvenated muscles.</p> + +<p>A stroke on a copper gong. My masseur disappeared. A stunted old +Negress entered, dressed in the most tawdry tinsel. She was talkative +as a magpie, but at first I did not understand a word in the +interminable string she unwound, while she took first my hands, then +my feet, and polished the nails with determined grimaces.</p> + +<p>Another stroke on the gong. The old woman gave place to another Negro, +grave, this time, and dressed all in white with a knitted skull cap on +his oblong head. It was the barber, and a remarkably dexterous one. He +quickly trimmed my hair, and, on my word, it was well done. Then, +without asking me what style I preferred, he shaved me clean.</p> + +<p>I looked with pleasure at my face, once more visible.</p> + +<p>"Antinea must like the American type," I thought. "What an affront to +the memory of her worthy grandfather, Neptune!"</p> + +<p>The gay Negro entered and placed a package on the divan. The barber +disappeared. I was somewhat astonished to observe that the package, +which my new valet opened carefully, contained a suit of white +flannels exactly like those French officers wear in Algeria in summer.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 105 -->The wide trousers seemed made to my measure. The tunic fitted without +a wrinkle, and my astonishment was unbounded at observing that it even +had two gilt <i>galons</i>, the insignia of my rank, braided on the cuffs. +For shoes, there were slippers of red Morocco leather, with gold +ornaments. The underwear, all of silk, seemed to have come straight +from the rue de la Paix.</p> + +<p>"Dinner was excellent," I murmured, looking at myself in the mirror +with satisfaction. "The apartment is perfectly arranged. Yes, but...."</p> + +<p>I could not repress a shudder when I suddenly recalled that room of +red marble.</p> + +<p>The clock struck half past four.</p> + +<p>Someone rapped gently on the door. The tall white Targa, who had +brought me, appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward, touched me on the arm and signed for me to follow.</p> + +<p>Again I followed him.</p> + +<p>We passed through interminable corridors. I was disturbed, but the +warm water had given me a certain feeling of detachment. And above +all, more than I wished to admit, I had a growing sense of lively +curiosity. If, at that moment, someone had offered to lead me back to +the route across the white plain near Shikh-Salah, would I have +accepted? Hardly.</p> + +<p>I tried to feel ashamed of my curiosity. I thought of Maillefeu.</p> + +<p>"He, too, followed this corridor. And now he is down there, in the red +marble hall."</p> + +<p>I had no time to linger over this reminiscence. I was suddenly bowled +over, thrown to the ground, as if by a sort of meteor. The corridor +was dark; I could see nothing. I heard only a mocking growl.</p> + +<p>The white Targa had flattened himself back against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Good," I mumbled, picking myself up, "the deviltries are beginning."</p> + +<p>We continued on our way. A glow different from that of the rose night +lights soon began to light up the corridor.</p> + +<p>We reached a high bronze door, in which a strange lacy <!-- Page 106 -->design had +been cut in filigree. A clear gong sounded, and the double doors +opened part way. The Targa remained in the corridor, closing the doors +after me.</p> + +<p>I took a few steps forward mechanically, then paused, rooted to the +spot, and rubbed my eyes.</p> + +<p>I was dazzled by the sight of the sky.</p> + +<p>Several hours of shaded light had unaccustomed me to daylight. It +poured in through one whole side of the huge room.</p> + +<p>The room was in the lower part of this mountain, which was more +honeycombed with corridors and passages than an Egyptian pyramid. It +was on a level with the garden which I had seen in the morning from +the balcony, and seemed to be a continuation of it; the carpet +extended out under the great palm trees and the birds flew about the +forest of pillars in the room.</p> + +<p>By contrast, the half of the room untouched by direct light from the +oasis seemed dark. The sun, setting behind the mountain, painted the +garden paths with rose and flamed with red upon the traditional +flamingo which stood with one foot raised at the edge of the sapphire +lake.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I was bowled over a second time.</p> + +<p>I felt a warm, silky touch, a burning breath on my neck. Again the +mocking growl which had so disturbed me in the corridor.</p> + +<p>With a wrench, I pulled myself free and sent a chance blow at my +assailant. The cry, this time of pain and rage, broke out again.</p> + +<p>It was echoed by a long peal of laughter. Furious, I turned to look +for the insolent onlooker, thinking to speak my mind. And then my +glance stood still.</p> + +<p>Antinea was before me. +<br /></p> + +<p>In the dimmest part of the room, under a kind of arch lit by the mauve +rays from a dozen incense-lamps, four women lay on a heap of +many-colored cushions and rare white Persian rugs.</p> + +<p>I recognized the first three as Tuareg women, of a splendid regular +beauty, dressed in magnificent robes of white silk embroidered in +gold. The fourth, very dark skinned, almost <!-- Page 107 -->negroid, seemed younger. +A tunic of red silk enhanced the dusk of her face, her arms and her +bare feet. The four were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs, +covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one +elbow, lay Antinea.</p> + +<p>Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really +looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More +beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the +fault of the language or of those who abuse the word?</p> + +<p>One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom +Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter +of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom +Antony fled....</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras</i><br /></span> +<span><i>C'est dans l'étreinte altière et chaude de ses bras</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>An Egyptian <i>klaft</i> fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two +points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The +golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round, +determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her +head.</p> + +<p>She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very +full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with +iris in black pearls.</p> + +<p>That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim +young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A +more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile, +such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom.</p> + +<p>I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at +it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most +extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable +moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than +to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty +young men who had held that slender body in their arms.</p> + +<p>She was still laughing at me.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 108 -->King Hiram," she called.</p> + +<p>I turned and saw my enemy.</p> + +<p>On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a +splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I +had dealt him.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here."</p> + +<p>The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's +feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles.</p> + +<p>"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said.</p> + +<p>The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle +puckered about his black moustache.</p> + +<p>"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat.</p> + +<p>"Go," Antinea ordered imperiously.</p> + +<p>The beast crawled reluctantly toward me. He laid his head humbly +between his paws and waited.</p> + +<p>I stroked his beautiful spotted forehead.</p> + +<p>"You must not be vexed," said Antinea. "He is always that way with +strangers."</p> + +<p>"Then he must often be in bad humor," I said simply.</p> + +<p>Those were my first words. They brought a smile to Antinea's lips.</p> + +<p>She gave me a long, quiet look.</p> + +<p>"Aguida," she said to one of the Targa women, "you will give +twenty-five pounds in gold to Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"You are a lieutenant?" she asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?"</p> + +<p>"From France."</p> + +<p>"I might have guessed that," she said ironically, "but from what part +of France?"</p> + +<p>"From what we call the Lot-et-Garonne."</p> + +<p>"From what town?"</p> + +<p>"From Duras."</p> + +<p>She reflected a moment.</p> + +<p>"Duras! There is a little river there, the Dropt, and a fine old +château."</p> + +<p>"You know Duras?" I murmured, amazed.</p> + +<p>"You go there from Bordeaux by a little branch railway," she went on. +"It is a shut-in road, with vine-covered hills <!-- Page 109 -->crowned by the feudal +ruins. The villages have beautiful names: Monségur, +Sauve-terre-de-Guyenne, la Tresne, Créon, ... Créon, as in Antigone."</p> + +<p>"You have been there?"</p> + +<p>She looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak so coldly," she said. "Sooner or later we will be +intimate, and you may as well lay aside formality now."</p> + +<p>This threatening promise suddenly filled me with great happiness. I +thought of Le Mesge's words: "Don't talk until you have seen her. When +you have seen her, you will renounce everything for her."</p> + +<p>"Have I been in Duras?" she went on with a burst of laughter. "You are +joking. Imagine Neptune's granddaughter in the first-class compartment +of a local train!"</p> + +<p>She pointed to an enormous white rock which towered above the palm +trees of the garden.</p> + +<p>"That is my horizon," she said gravely.</p> + +<p>She picked up one of several books which lay scattered about her on +the lion's skin.</p> + +<p>"The time table of the <i>Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest</i>," she said. +"Admirable reading for one who never budges! Here it is half-past five +in the afternoon. A train, a local, arrived three minutes ago at +Surgères in the Charente-Inférieure. It will start on in six minutes. +In two hours it will reach La Rochelle. How strange it seems to think +of such things here. So far away! So much commotion there! Here, +nothing changes."</p> + +<p>"You speak French well," I said.</p> + +<p>She gave a little nervous laugh.</p> + +<p>"I have to. And German, too, and Italian, and English and Spanish. My +way of living has made me a great polygot. But I prefer French, even +to Tuareg and Arabian. It seems as if I had always known it. And I am +not saying that to please you."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. I thought of her grandmother, of whom Plutarch +said: "There were few races with which she needed an interpreter. +Cleopatra spoke their own language to the Ethiopians, to the +Troglodytes, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Medes and the Persians."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 110 -->Do not stand rooted in the middle of the room. You worry me. Come +sit here, beside me. Move over, King Hiram."</p> + +<p>The leopard obeyed with good temper.</p> + +<p>Beside her was an onyx bowl. She took from it a perfectly plain ring +of orichalch and slipped it on my left ring-finger. I saw that she +wore one like it.</p> + +<p>"Tanit-Zerga, give Monsieur de Saint-Avit a rose sherbet."</p> + +<p>The dark girl in red silk obeyed.</p> + +<p>"My private secretary," said Antinea, introducing her. "Mademoiselle +Tanit-Zerga, of Gâo, on the Niger. Her family is almost as ancient as +mine."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she looked at me. Her green eyes seemed to be appraising +me.</p> + +<p>"And your comrade, the Captain?" she asked in a dreamy tone. "I have +not yet seen him. What is he like? Does he resemble you?"</p> + +<p>For the first time since I had entered, I thought of Morhange. I did +not answer.</p> + +<p>Antinea smiled.</p> + +<p>She stretched herself out full length on the lion skin. Her bare right +knee slipped out from under her tunic.</p> + +<p>"It is time to go find him," she said languidly. "You will soon +receive my orders. Tanit-Zerga, show him the way. First take him to +his room. He cannot have seen it."</p> + +<p>I rose and lifted her hand to my lips. She struck me with it so +sharply as to make my lips bleed, as if to brand me as her possession.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>I was in the dark corridor again. The young girl in the red silk tunic +walked ahead of me.</p> + +<p>"Here is your room," she said. "If you wish, I will take you to the +dining-room. The others are about to meet there for dinner."</p> + +<p>She spoke an adorable lisping French.</p> + +<p>"No, Tanit-Zerga, I would rather stay here this evening. I am not +hungry. I am tired."</p> + +<p>"You remember my name?" she said.</p> + +<p>She seemed proud of it. I felt that in her I had an ally in case of +need.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 111 -->I remember your name, Tanit-Zerga, because it is +beautiful."<a name="FNanchor_M_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_12"><sup>[12]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Then I added:</p> + +<p>"Now, leave me, little one. I want to be alone."</p> + +<p>It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same +time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself.</p> + +<p>"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the +table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white +Targa will answer."</p> + +<p>For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the +midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service.</p> + +<p>I looked about my room. My room! For how long?</p> + +<p>It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock, +all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade.</p> + +<p>I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting +sun entered.</p> + +<p>I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my +heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the +ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me.</p> + +<p>In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the +first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the +distance, I saw the limitless red desert.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 112 --> +<h2><a name="XII"><!-- Chapter 12 --></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>MORHANGE DISAPPEARS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next +day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed +amazing.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by +consulting Morhange."</p> + +<p>I was ravenously hungry.</p> + +<p>The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I +struck it. A white Targa appeared.</p> + +<p>"Show me the way to the library," I ordered.</p> + +<p>He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and +corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his +help.</p> + +<p>Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript.</p> + +<p>"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger +were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters."</p> + +<p>I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the +table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like +that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she +herself wore.</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You have seen her?"</p> + +<p>"I have indeed," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>"She is beautiful, is she not?"</p> + +<p>"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even +believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is +beautiful."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 113 -->You know what our fate is to be?"</p> + +<p>"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological +terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure."</p> + +<p>He was silent, then said, looking at me:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature +is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very +easily."</p> + +<p>Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did +not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged +correctly.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured.</p> + +<p>He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair +and lit a cigar.</p> + +<p>"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I +have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no +discussion.</p> + +<p>"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my +semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather +doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but, +even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my +having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no +taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us.</p> + +<p>"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the +right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his +own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish, +results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular +ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give +satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance +of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire: +such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps +even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under +similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so +doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The +end justified the means.</p> + +<p>"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd <!-- Page 114 -->caprices +of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the +red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take +you first. Under those conditions...."</p> + +<p>"Under those conditions?"</p> + +<p>"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to +acquiesce."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and +smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this +superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse +advances."</p> + +<p>Then he added with an ironical smile:</p> + +<p>"A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to."</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was +breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le +Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she +replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Maudit soit à jamais rêveur inutile</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidité</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>S'éprenant d'un problème insoluble et stérile</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Aux choses de l'amour mêler l'honnêteté</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers, +'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There +followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to +reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from +Baudelaire.</p> + +<p>"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman +whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in +order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek +knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant +with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew +me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid <!-- Page 115 -->things as you know +of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of +different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in +the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this +is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend +is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman +indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer +than that master of sensualism."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Le Mesge, suddenly entering the room, "why are you +so late? They are waiting dinner for you."</p> + +<p>The little Professor was in a particularly good humor that evening. He +wore a new violet rosette.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said, in a mocking tone, "you have seen her?"</p> + +<p>Neither Morhange nor I replied.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Spardek and the Hetmari of Jitomir already had begun +eating when we arrived. The setting sun threw raspberry lights on the +cream-colored mat.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, gentlemen," said Le Mesge noisily. "Lieutenant de +Saint-Avit, you were not with us last evening. You are about to taste +the cooking of Koukou, our Bambara chef, for the first time. You must +give me your opinion of it."</p> + +<p>A Negro waiter set before me a superb fish covered with a pimento +sauce as red as tomatoes.</p> + +<p>I have explained that I was ravenously hungry. The dish was exquisite. +The sauce immediately made me thirsty.</p> + +<p>"White Ahaggar, 1879," the Herman of Jitomir breathed in my ear as he +filled my goblet with a clear topaz liquid. "I developed it myself: +<i>rien pour la tête, tout pour les jambes</i>."</p> + +<p>I emptied the goblet at a gulp. The company began to seem charming.</p> + +<p>"Well, Captain Morhange," Le Mesge called out to my comrade who had +taken a mouthful of fish, "what do you say to this acanthopterygian? +It was caught to-day in the lake in the oasis. Do you begin to admit +the hypothesis of the Saharan sea?"</p> + +<p>"The fish is an argument," my companion replied.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he became silent. The door had opened. A white Targa entered. +The diners stopped talking.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 116 -->The veiled man walked slowly toward Morhange and touched his right +arm.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>He got up and followed the messenger.</p> + +<p>The pitcher of Ahaggar, 1879, stood between me and Count Bielowsky. I +filled my goblet—a goblet which held a pint, and gulped it down.</p> + +<p>The Hetman looked at me sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge, nudging me with his elbow. "Antinea has +respect for the hierarchic order."</p> + +<p>The Reverend Spardek smiled modestly.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge again.</p> + +<p>My glass was empty. For a moment I was tempted to hurl it at the head +of the Fellow in History. But what of it? I filled it and emptied it +again.</p> + +<p>"Morhange will miss this delicious roast of mutton," said the +Professor, more and more hilarious, as he awarded himself a thick +slice of meat.</p> + +<p>"He won't regret it," said the Hetman crossly. "This is not roast; it +is ram's horn. Really Koukou is beginning to make fun of us."</p> + +<p>"Blame it on the Reverend," the shrill voice of Le Mesge cut in. "I +have told him often enough to hunt other proselytes and leave our cook +alone."</p> + +<p>"Professor," Spardek began with dignity.</p> + +<p>"I maintain my contention," cried Le Mesge, who seemed to me to be +getting a bit overloaded. "I call the gentleman to witness," he went +on, turning to me. "He has just come. He is unbiased. Therefore I ask +him: has one the right to spoil a Bambara cook by addling his head +with theological discussions for which he has no predisposition?"</p> + +<p>"Alas!" the pastor replied sadly. "You are mistaken. He has only too +strong a propensity to controversy."</p> + +<p>"Koukou is a good-for-nothing who uses Colas' cow as an excuse for +doing nothing and letting our scallops burn," declared the Hetman. +"Long live the Pope!" he cried, filling the glasses all around.</p> + +<p>"I assure you that this Bambara worries me," Spardek went on with +great dignity. "Do you know what he has come to? He denies +transubstantiation. He is within an inch of the <!-- Page 117 -->heresy of Zwingli and +Oecolampades. Koukou denies transubstantiation."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Le Mesge, very much excited, "cooks should be left in +peace. Jesus, whom I consider as good a theologian as you, understood +that, and it never occurred to him to call Martha away from her oven +to talk nonsense to her."</p> + +<p>"Exactly so," said the Hetman approvingly.</p> + +<p>He was holding a jar between his knees and trying to draw its cork.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Côtes Rôties, wines from the Côte-Rôtie!" he murmured +to me as he finally succeeded. "Touch glasses."</p> + +<p>"Koukou denies transubstantiation," the pastor continued, sadly +emptying his glass.</p> + +<p>"Eh!" said the Hetman of Jitomir in my ear, "let them talk on. Don't +you see that they are quite drunk?"</p> + +<p>His own voice was thick. He had the greatest difficulty in the world +in filling my goblet to the brim.</p> + +<p>I wanted to push the pitcher away. Then an idea came to me:</p> + +<p>"At this very moment, Morhange.... Whatever he may say.... She is so +beautiful."</p> + +<p>I reached out for the glass and emptied it once more.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge and the pastor were now engaged in the most extraordinary +religious controversy, throwing at each other's heads the Book of +Common Prayer, The Declaration of the Rights of Man, and the +Unigenitus. Little by little, the Hetman began to show that ascendancy +over them, which is the characteristic of a man of the world even when +he is thoroughly drunk; the superiority of education over instruction.</p> + +<p>Count Bielowsky had drunk five times as much as the Professor or the +pastor. But he carried his wine ten times better.</p> + +<p>"Let us leave these drunken fellows," he said with disgust. "Come on, +old man. Our partners are waiting in the gaming room."</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," said the Hetman as we entered. "Permit me to +present a new player to you, my friend, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 118 -->Let it go at that," he murmured in my ear. "They are the servants. +But I like to fool myself, you see."</p> + +<p>I saw that he was very drunk indeed.</p> + +<p>The gaming room was very long and narrow. A huge table, almost level +with the floor and surrounded with cushions on which a dozen natives +were lying, was the chief article of furniture. Two engravings on the +wall gave evidence of the happiest broadmindedness in taste; one of da +Vinci's St. John the Baptist, and the <i>Maison des Dernières +Cartouches</i> of Alphonse de Neuville.</p> + +<p>On the table were earthenware goblets. A heavy jar held palm liqueur.</p> + +<p>I recognized acquaintances among those present; my masseur, the +manicure, the barber, and two or three Tuareg who had lowered their +veils and were gravely smoking long pipes. While waiting for something +better, all were plunged in the delights of a card game that looked +like "rams." Two of Antinea's beautiful ladies in waiting, Aguida and +Sydya, were among the number. Their smooth bistre skins gleamed +beneath veils shot with silver. I was sorry not to see the red silk +tunic of Tanit-Zerga. Again, I thought of Morhange, but only for an +instant.</p> + +<p>"The chips, Koukou," demanded the Hetman, "We are not here to amuse +ourselves."</p> + +<p>The Zwinglian cook placed a box of many-colored chips in front of him. +Count Bielowsky set about counting them and arranging them in little +piles with infinite care.</p> + +<p>"The white are worth a <i>louis</i>," he explained to me. "The red, a +hundred francs. The yellow, five hundred. The green, a thousand. Oh, +it's the devil of a game that we play here. You will see."</p> + +<p>"I open with ten thousand," said the Zwinglian cook.</p> + +<p>"Twelve thousand," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen," said Sydya with a slow smile, as she seated herself on the +count's knee and began to arrange her chips lovingly in little piles.</p> + +<p>"Fourteen," I said.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen," said the sharp voice of Rosita, the old manicure.</p> + +<p>"Seventeen," proclaimed the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Twenty thousand," the cook broke in.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 119 -->He hammered on the table and, casting a defiant look at us, repeated:</p> + +<p>"I take it at twenty thousand."</p> + +<p>The Hetman made an impatient gesture.</p> + +<p>"That devil, Koukou! You can't do anything against the beast. You will +have to play carefully, Lieutenant."</p> + +<p>Koukou had taken his place at the end of the table. He threw down the +cards with an air which abashed me.</p> + +<p>"I told you so; the way it was at Anna Deslions'," the Hetman murmured +proudly.</p> + +<p>"Make your bets, gentlemen," yelped the Negro. "Make your bets."</p> + +<p>"Wait, you beast," called Bielowsky. "Don't you see that the glasses +are empty? Here, Cacambo."</p> + +<p>The goblets were filled immediately by the jolly masseur.</p> + +<p>"Cut," said Koukou, addressing Sydya, the beautiful Targa who sat at +his right.</p> + +<p>The girl cut, like one who knows superstitions, with her left hand. +But it must be said that her right was busy lifting a cup to her lips. +I watched the curve of her beautiful throat.</p> + +<p>"My deal," said Koukou.</p> + +<p>We were thus arranged: at the left, the Hetman, Aguida, whose waist he +had encircled with the most aristocratic freedom, Cacambo, a Tuareg +woman, then two veiled Negroes who were watching the game intently. At +the right, Sydya, myself, the old manicure, Rosita, Barouf, the +barber, another woman and two white Tuareg, grave and attentive, +exactly opposite those on the left.</p> + +<p>"Give me one," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>Sydya made a negative gesture.</p> + +<p>Koukou drew, passed a four-spot to the Hetman, gave himself a five.</p> + +<p>"Eight," announced Bielowsky.</p> + +<p>"Six," said pretty Sydya.</p> + +<p>"Seven," broke in Koukou. "One card makes up for another," he added +coldly.</p> + +<p>"I double," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>Cacambo and Aguida followed his example. On our side, we were more +careful. The manicure especially would not risk more than twenty +francs at a time.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 120 -->I demand that the cards be evened up," said Koukou imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"This fellow is unbearable," grumbled the count. "There, are you +satisfied?"</p> + +<p>Koukou dealt and laid down a nine.</p> + +<p>"My country and my honor!" raged Bielowsky. "I had an eight."</p> + +<p>I had two kings, and so showed no ill temper. Rosita took the cards +out of my hands.</p> + +<p>I watched Sydya at my right. Her heavy black hair covered her +shoulders. She was really very beautiful, though a bit tipsy, as were +all that fantastic company. She looked at me, too, but with lowered +eyelids, like a timid little wild animal.</p> + +<p>"Oh," I thought. "She may well be afraid. I am labelled 'No +trespassing.'"</p> + +<p>I touched her foot. She drew it back in fright.</p> + +<p>"Who wants cards?" Koukou demanded.</p> + +<p>"Not I," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Served," said Sydya.</p> + +<p>The cook drew a four.</p> + +<p>"Nine," he said.</p> + +<p>"That card was meant for me," cursed the count. "And five, I had a +five. If only I had never promised his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon II +never to cut fives! There are times when it is hard, very hard. And +look at that beast of a Negro who plays Charlemagne."</p> + +<p>It was true. Koukou swept in three-quarters of the chips, rose with +dignity, and bowed to the company.</p> + +<p>"Till to-morrow, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Get along, the whole pack of you," howled the Hetman of Jitomir. +"Stay with me, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>When we were alone, he poured out another huge cupfull of liqueur. The +ceiling of the room was lost in the gray smoke.</p> + +<p>"What time is it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"After midnight. But you are not going to leave me like this, my dear +boy? I am heavy-hearted."</p> + +<p>He wept bitterly. The tail of his coat spread out on the divan behind +him like the apple-green wings of a beetle.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 121 -->Isn't Aguida a beauty?" he went on, still weeping. "She makes me +think of the Countess de Teruel, though she is a little darker. You +know the Countess de Teruel, Mercedes, who went in bathing nude at +Biarritz, in front of the rock of the Virgin, one day when Prince +Bismarck was standing on the foot-bridge. You do not remember her? +Mercedes de Teruel."</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I forget; you must have been too young. Two, perhaps three years old. +A child. Yes, a child. Oh, my child, to have been of that generation +and to be reduced to playing cards with savages ... I must tell +you...."</p> + +<p>I stood up and pushed him off.</p> + +<p>"Stay, stay," he implored. "I will tell you everything you want to +know, how I came here, things I have never told anyone. Stay, I must +unbosom myself to a true friend. I will tell you everything, I repeat. +I trust you. You are a Frenchman, a gentleman. I know that you will +repeat nothing to her."</p> + +<p>"That I will repeat nothing to her?... To whom?"</p> + +<p>His voice stuck in his throat. I thought I saw a shudder of fear pass +over him.</p> + +<p>"To her ... to Antinea," he murmured.</p> + +<p>I sat down again.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIII"><!-- Chapter 13 --></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Count Casimir had reached that stage where drunkenness takes on a kind +of gravity, of regretfulness.</p> + +<p>He thought a little, then began his story. I regret that I cannot +reproduce more perfectly its archaic flavor.</p> + +<p>"When the grapes begin to color in Antinea's garden, I shall be +sixty-eight. It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your wild +oats. It isn't true that life is always beginning over again. How +bitter, to have known the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the +point where I am now!</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 122 -->One evening, just before the war (I remember that Victor Black was +still living), some charming women whose names I need not disclose (I +read the names of their sons from time to time in the society news of +the <i>Gaulois</i>) expressed to me their desire to rub elbows with some +real <i>demi-mondaines</i> of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at +the <i>Grande Chaumière</i>. There was a crowd of young painters, models, +students. In the midst of the uproar, several couples danced the +<i>cancan</i> till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed especially a +little, dark man, dressed in a miserable top-coat and checked trousers +which assuredly knew the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed, +with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be. He bounded and +kicked extravagantly. The ladies called him Léon Gambetta.</p> + +<p>"What an annoyance, when I realize that I need only have felled this +wretched lawyer with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect +happiness to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow, I +am French at heart, if not by birth.</p> + +<p>"I was born in 1829, at Warsaw, of a Polish father and a Russian +mother. It is from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir. It +was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request made to him on +his visit to Paris, by my august master, the Emperor Napoleon III.</p> + +<p>"For political reasons, which I cannot describe without retelling the +history of unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left Warsaw +in 1830, and went to live in London. After the death of my mother, he +began to squander his immense fortune—from sorrow, he said. When, in +his time, he died at the period of the Prichard affair, he left me +barely a thousand pounds sterling of income, plus two or three systems +of gaming, the impracticability of which I learned later.</p> + +<p>"I will never be able to think of my nineteenth and twentieth years +without emotion, for I then completely liquidated this small +inheritance. London was indeed an adorable spot in those days. I had a +jolly bachelor's apartment in Piccadilly.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Picadilly! Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The whirling of wheels and the murmur of trees.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"<!-- Page 123 -->Fox hunting in a <i>briska</i>, driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, +not to mention the delightful little parties with the light Venuses of +Drury Lane, this took all my time. All? I am unjust. There was also +gaming, and a sentiment of filial piety forced me to verify the +systems of the late Count, my father. It was gaming which was the +cause of the event I must describe to you, by which my life was to be +so strangely changed.</p> + +<p>"My friend, Lord Malmesbury, had said to me a hundred times, 'I must +take you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford Street, +number 277, Miss Howard.' One evening I went with him. It was the +twenty-second of February, 1848. The mistress of the house was really +marvelously beautiful, and the guests were charming. Besides +Malmesbury, I observed several acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord +Chesterfield, Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards, +and Count d'Orsay. They played cards and then began to talk politics. +Events in France played the main part in the conversation and they +discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt that had broken out +in Paris that same morning, in consequence of the interdiction of the +banquet in the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been +received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never bothered myself +with public affairs. So I don't know what moved me to affirm with the +impetuosity of my nineteen years that the news from France meant the +Republic next day and the Empire the day after....</p> + +<p>"The company received my sally with a discreet laugh, and their looks +were centered on a guest who made the fifth at a <i>bouillotte</i> table +where they had just stopped playing.</p> + +<p>"The guest smiled, too. He rose and came towards me. I observed that +he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned tightly into a +blue frock coat, and that his eye had a far-off, dreamy look.</p> + +<p>"All the players watched this scene with delighted amusement.</p> + +<p>"'Whom have I the honor of addressing?' he asked in a very gentle +voice.</p> + +<p>"'Count Bielowsky,' I answered coolly to show him that <!-- Page 124 -->the difference +in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear Count, may your prediction indeed be realized; and I +hope that you will not neglect the Tuileries,' said the guest in the +blue coat, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"And he added, finally consenting to present himself:</p> + +<p>"'Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.'</p> + +<p>"I played no active rôle in the <i>coup d'état</i>, and I do not regret it. +It is a principle with me that a stranger should not meddle with the +internal affairs of a country. The prince understood this discretion, +and did not forget the young man who had been of such good omen to +him.</p> + +<p>"I was one of the first whom he called to the Elysée. My fortune was +definitely established by a defamatory note on 'Napoleon the little.' +The next year, when Mgr. Sibour was out of the way, I was made +Gentleman of the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to have +me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto, Duke of Mondovi.</p> + +<p>"I have no scruple in announcing that this union was not what it +should have been. The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was +crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover, her family had insisted +resolutely on a marriage portion. Now I had nothing at this time +except the twenty-five thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman +of the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate terms with the Count +d'Orsay and the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of +the Emperor, where would I have been?</p> + +<p>"One morning in the spring of 1852, I was in my study opening my mail. +There was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries at +four o'clock; a letter from Clémentine, informing me that she expected +me at five o'clock at her house. Clémentine was the beautiful one for +whom, just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I was so proud of +her that, one evening at the <i>Maison Dorée</i>, I flaunted her before +Prince Metternich, who was tremendously taken with her. All the court +envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged to continue to +assume its expenses. And <!-- Page 125 -->then Clémentine was so pretty! The Emperor +himself.... The other letters, good lord, the other letters were the +bills of the dressmakers of that young person, who, in spite of my +discreet remonstrances, insisted on having them sent to my conjugal +dwelling.</p> + +<p>"There were bills for something over forty thousand francs: gowns and +ball dresses from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and +bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d'Antin; lingerie and many +petticoats from Madame Pauline, 100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and +gloves from the <i>Ville de Lyon</i>, 6 Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin; +foulards from the <i>Malle des Indes</i>; handkerchiefs from the <i>Compagnie +Irlandaise</i>; laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from <i>Candès</i>.... This +whitening cream of <i>Candès</i>, in particular, overwhelmed me with +stupefaction. The bill showed fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and +twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes' worth of whitening cream from +<i>Candès</i>.... Enough to soften the skin of a squadron of a hundred +guards!</p> + +<p>"'This can't keep on,' I said, putting the bills in my pocket.</p> + +<p>"At ten minutes to four, I crossed the wicket by the Carrousel.</p> + +<p>"In the Salon of the <i>aides de camp</i> I happened on Bacciochi.</p> + +<p>"'The Emperor has the grippe,' he said to me. 'He is keeping to his +room. He has given orders to have you admitted as soon as you arrive. +Come.'</p> + +<p>"His Majesty, dressed in a braided vest and Cossack trousers, was +meditating before a window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed +luminously under a gentle warm shower.</p> + +<p>"'Ah! Here he is,' said Napoleon. 'Here, have a cigarette. It seems +that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse, last evening, +at the <i>Château de Fleurs</i>.'</p> + +<p>"I smiled with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"'So Your Majesty knows already....'</p> + +<p>"'I know, I know vaguely.'</p> + +<p>"'Do you know Gramont-Caderousse's last "mot"?'</p> + +<p>"'No, but you are going to tell it to me.'</p> + +<p>"'Here goes, then. We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont, +Persigny....'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 126 -->'Persigny!' said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with +Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife.'</p> + +<p>"'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He +began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's +conduct.'</p> + +<p>"'This Fialin isn't over tactful,' muttered the Emperor.</p> + +<p>"'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at +him?'</p> + +<p>"'What?'</p> + +<p>"'He said to him, "<i>Monsieur le Duc</i>, I forbid you to speak ill of my +mistress before me."</p> + +<p>"'Gramont goes too far,' said Napoleon with a dreamy smile.</p> + +<p>"'That is what we all thought, including Viel-Castel, who was +nevertheless delighted.'</p> + +<p>"'Apropos of this,' said Napoleon after a silence, 'I have forgotten +to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.'</p> + +<p>"'She is very well, Sire, I thank Your Majesty,'</p> + +<p>"'And Clémentine? Still the same dear child?'</p> + +<p>"'Always, Sire. But....'</p> + +<p>"'It seems that M. Baroche is madly in love with her.'</p> + +<p>"'I am very much honored, Sire. But this honor becomes too +burdensome.'</p> + +<p>"I had drawn from my pocket that morning's bills and I spread them out +under the eyes of the Emperor.</p> + +<p>"He looked at them with his distant smile.</p> + +<p>"'Come, come. If that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to +ask of you.'</p> + +<p>"'I am entirely at Your Majesty's service.'</p> + +<p>"He struck a gong.</p> + +<p>"'Send for M. Mocquard.'</p> + +<p>"'I have the grippe,' he said. 'Mocquard will explain the affair to +you.'</p> + +<p>"The Emperor's private secretary entered.</p> + +<p>"'Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,' said Napoleon. 'You know what I want +him to do. Explain it to him.'</p> + +<p>"And he began to tap on the window-panes against which the rain was +beating furiously.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 127 -->'My dear Count,' said Mocquard, taking a chair, 'it is very simple. +You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise, M. Henry +Duveyrier.'</p> + +<p>"I shook my head as a sign of negation, very much surprised at this +beginning.</p> + +<p>"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'has returned to Paris after a +particularly daring trip to South Africa and the Sahara. M. Vivien de +Saint Martin, whom I have seen recently has assured me that the +Geographical Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon him, +in recognition of these exploits. In the course of his trip, M. +Duveyrier has entered into negotiations with the chief of the people +who always have been so rebellious to His Majesty's armies, the +Tuareg.'</p> + +<p>"I looked at the Emperor. My bewilderment was such that he began to +laugh.</p> + +<p>"'Listen,' he said.</p> + +<p>"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a +delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to +His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His +Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the +signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our +fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, +<i>Amenokol</i> or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow +morning at the <i>Gare de Lyon</i>. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the +Emperor has thought that besides....'</p> + +<p>"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I +thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my +Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is +why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, +laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged +only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these +princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; +then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious +scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian +civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not <!-- Page 128 -->forget that in the +Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I +have confidence in your tact and give you <i>carte blanche</i>.... +Mocquard!'</p> + +<p>"'Sire?'</p> + +<p>"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to +the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of +the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, +to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed +that figure.'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion +that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When +she saw me, she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have +we done!'</p> + +<p>"'Clémentine, tell me!'</p> + +<p>"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt +against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was +fragrant with <i>eau de Nanon</i>.</p> + +<p>"'What is it? What can it be?'</p> + +<p>"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear.</p> + +<p>"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?'</p> + +<p>"'Am I quite sure!'</p> + +<p>"I was thunderstruck.</p> + +<p>"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply.</p> + +<p>"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I +assure you.'</p> + +<p>"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.'</p> + +<p>"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!'</p> + +<p>"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. +The Emperor's orders.'</p> + +<p>"'What bluff is this?' asked Clémentine.</p> + +<p>"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.'</p> + +<p>"I retold Mocquard's story to Clémentine, as well as I could. She +listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that +way.'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 129 -->Finally, furious, I burst out:</p> + +<p>"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I +invite you.'</p> + +<p>"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clémentine with great +dignity.</p> + +<p>"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a +day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. +The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. +And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular +paternity....</p> + +<p>"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the +Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of +Parisian civilization. Clémentine comports herself very well in +society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a +room for to-morrow at the <i>Café de Paris</i>, and tell Gramont-Caderousse +and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very +French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the +midst of this little party.'</p> + +<p>"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found +M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little +blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the +train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil +knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four +others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their +amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of +<i>sabir</i><a name="FNanchor_N_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_13"><sup>[13]</sup></a> + which helped things along.</p> + +<p>"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in +the evening to the Museum, to the <i>Hotel de Ville</i>, to the Imperial +Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the +registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give +you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: +Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-<!-- Page 130 -->ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- +ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud. +<a name="FNanchor_P_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_14"><sup>[14]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"And there were five of them like that!</p> + +<p>"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, +everywhere, our success was colossal. At the <i>Café de Paris</i>, at +six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, +embraced me: '<i>Bono, Napoléon, bono, Eugénie; bono, Casimir; bono, +Christians</i>.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth +number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the <i>Folies Dramatiques</i>, and +Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the +heart. But the palm was for my dear Clémentine, when she entered. I +must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China +blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the +pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of +green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence +which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. +The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between +their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed +bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged +with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a +diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined +in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of +blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin.</p> + +<p>"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, +especially, Clémentine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemâma, +brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup +arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already +much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique <i>à la +liqueur de Mme. Amphoux</i>, he showed every indication of illimitable +passion. The Cyprian wine <i>de la Commanderie</i> <!-- Page 131 -->made him quite sure of +his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, +intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the +indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when +the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner +in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet +in respect to wine.</p> + +<p>"At Mabille, while Clémentine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three +Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took +me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain +commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik +Ahmed.</p> + +<p>"The next day, very early, I reached Clémentine's house.</p> + +<p>"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, +'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.'</p> + +<p>"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly.</p> + +<p>"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with +you last night?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing.</p> + +<p>"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and +reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our +august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?'</p> + +<p>"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming +interested.</p> + +<p>"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august +sovereign, the Empress Eugénie?'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine, looked startled.</p> + +<p>"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make +this offer.'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine, dumb with amazement, did not reply.</p> + +<p>"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered.</p> + +<p>"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before +midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain +is made.'</p> + +<p>"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well +to display a little sentiment.</p> + +<p>"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 132 -->'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps +that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to +pay for your complexion cream!'</p> + +<p>"'Ah!' she sighed.</p> + +<p>"She added, however, 'And ... the child?'</p> + +<p>"'What child?'</p> + +<p>"'Our child ... our child.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and +loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles +him.'</p> + +<p>"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and +crying. +<br /></p> + +<p>"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried +away the five Tuareg and Clémentine. The young woman, radiant, was +leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy.</p> + +<p>"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly.</p> + +<p>"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied:</p> + +<p>"'<i>Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono</i>.'</p> + +<p>"At the last moment, Clémentine had a pang of emotion.</p> + +<p>"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a +queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....'</p> + +<p>"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped +it onto mine.</p> + +<p>"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come—find us. Take Sidi +Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. <i>Bono</i> +Ahaggar, <i>bono</i>.'</p> + +<p>"When I came out of the <i>Gare de Lyon</i>, I had the feeling of having +perpetrated an excellent joke."</p> + +<p>The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost +difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he +interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's +best score.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><!-- Page 133 --> +<span><i>Dans un bois passait un jeune homme</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Un jeune homme frais et beau</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Sa main tenait une pomme</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Vous voyez d'ici le tableau</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, +poor old Casimir! Five thousand <i>louis</i> to pay by the fifth of +September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat +and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But +the Empress was so kind. I found her alone—ah, people scatter quickly +under such circumstances!—alone, with a senator, M. Mérimée, the only +literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the +world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. +Thiers, whom I just met on the <i>Pont Royal</i>, would listen to nothing.'</p> + +<p>"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her +true friends are.'</p> + +<p>"And I kissed her hand.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"<i>Evohé, que les déesses</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Out de drôles de façons</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Pour enjôler, pour enjôler, pour enjôler les gaâarçons</i>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered +the rabble going from the <i>Corps Législatif</i> to the Hotel de Ville. My +mind was made up.</p> + +<p>"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.'</p> + +<p>"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened.</p> + +<p>"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am +going to be killed on the barricades.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged +you. Will you forgive me?'</p> + +<p>"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not +always been right myself.'</p> + +<p>"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the +Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career.</p> + +<p>"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the <i>Gare +de Lyon</i> in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 134 -->The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the +cushions and slept with clenched fists.</p> + +<p>I walked unsteadily to the great window.</p> + +<p>The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIV"><!-- Chapter 14 --></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>HOURS OF WAITING</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his +enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and +chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic +outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that +way—I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! +Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by +recalling such memories.</p> + +<p>One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that +Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By +the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black +desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! +the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those +letters, I said to him in a trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>He acquiesced without further words.</p> + +<p>"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when +the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I +found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that +the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter +into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for +the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from +Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this +delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 135 -->Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not +think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't +you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not +trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward +to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to +enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have +given—unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague +uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to +know that he was well and safe.</p> + +<p>"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of +Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women +were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and +Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not +endure <i>kouskous</i> of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of +information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With +Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste +for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. +Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a +doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I +pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange.</p> + +<p>"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister +puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of +Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence +remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had +invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors +that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick +voice a couplet from the music of <i>La Reine Hortense</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>De ma fille Isabelle</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Sois l'époux à l'instant</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Car elle est la plus belle</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Et toi, le plus vaillant</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old +skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid +printer of labels for the red marble hall,—how <!-- Page 136 -->could I meet him +without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very +curious case of apocope: +<img src="images/tfnr136_1.gif" width="220" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. Suppression of <i>alpha</i>, of <i>tau</i> and of <i>lambda</i>! +I would like to direct your attention to another case as curious: +<img src="images/tfnr136_2.gif" width="228" height="48" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, Clémentine. Apocope of <i>kappa</i>, of <i>lamba</i>, +of <i>epsilon</i> and of <i>mu</i>. If Morhange were with us, he would tell you +many charming erudite things about it. But, alas! Morhange does not +deign to come among us any more. We never see Morhange.'</p> + +<p>"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from +Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished +so often as during those days of waiting! Now—after six years—she +must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was +very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against +those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through +politeness.</p> + +<p>"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey +by the merchants of Rhât, she was born in Constantinople and had been +brought into Africa by her master when he became <i>kaïmakam</i> of +Rhadamès.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering +history by the incantations of this manicure.</p> + +<p>"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of +El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemâma, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great +and noble tribe of Kel-Rhelâ. She was born in the year twelve hundred +and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. +Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this +Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, +and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to +Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have +lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she +prefers to have them come to her.'</p> + +<p>"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely +devoted to her?'</p> + +<p>"'Nobody here knows Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is +continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to +Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin +of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, <!-- Page 137 -->he owes his life to her. He is +one of the men who assassinated the great Kébir Flatters. On account +of that, Ikenoukhen, <i>amenokol</i> of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French +reprisals, wanted to deliver Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the +whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes +the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then +twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of +occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red +marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.'</p> + +<p>"'And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties +successfully?'</p> + +<p>"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as +I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made +mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le +Mesge and marabout Spardek.'</p> + +<p>"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?'</p> + +<p>"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has +never made a mistake.'</p> + +<p>"'He has never made a mistake?'</p> + +<p>"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought +here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom +they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the +handsomest of all.'</p> + +<p>"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them +their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?'</p> + +<p>"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, +whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would +soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would +massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has +brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing +Antinea.'</p> + +<p>"'She keeps them a long time?'</p> + +<p>"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two +months, three months, on the average. <!-- Page 138 -->It depends. A big Belgian +officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other +hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English +officer: she kept him almost a year.'</p> + +<p>"'And then?'</p> + +<p>"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my +question.</p> + +<p>"'Of what did he die?'</p> + +<p>"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge:</p> + +<p>"'Like all the others: of love.</p> + +<p>"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that +their time is ended, and that Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find +others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They +neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All +night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed +through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: +he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of +<i>kif</i>, a <i>kif</i> that is more violent than opium. When they no longer +have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the +happiest. Little Kaine died differently.'</p> + +<p>"'How did little Kaine die?'</p> + +<p>"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed +longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In +Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, +there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very +heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his +dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, +mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A +Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the +Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the +time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding +guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. +The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest +difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only +to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble +hall.'</p> + +<p>"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 139 -->'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for +this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written +something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.'</p> + +<p>"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'</p> + +<p>"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window +through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have +killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought +was in my heart.</p> + +<p>"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when +Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does +she not? Nobody sees him any more?'</p> + +<p>The old woman shook her head.</p> + +<p>"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. +Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to +her immediately.'</p> + +<p>"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....'</p> + +<p>"The Negress smiled comprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near +her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.'</p> + +<p>"I struck my fist violently upon the table.</p> + +<p>"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!'</p> + +<p>"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little +instruments.</p> + +<p>"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'</p> + +<p>"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my +way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed +open the door of the red marble hall. I entered.</p> + +<p>"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be so +sinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of running +water. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One day +before an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waiting +for the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that we +leap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. I +listened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shade +in the transparent water, the little <!-- Page 140 -->beasts, the little black fish, +the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of water +always has carried me out of myself.</p> + +<p>"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the dark cascade. +It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst of these +rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26. It was +he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh, September +21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight. He wasn't even +twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat of orichalch. His mouth +sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Poor +youngster.—Edinburgh,—I knew Edinburgh, without ever having been +there. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills. +"Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anne +of Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the fold +of the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises from +among them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live with +my aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When he +left for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh a +Miss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slips +of girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, however +made for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And here +was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of +the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also.</p> + +<p>"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble +hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! +Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be +multiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless as +beautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witness +that I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession, +this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for the +sake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant, +to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremble +before them?</p> + +<p>"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. In +six months, eight, perhaps,—what difference any<!-- Page 141 -->way?—I shall be +hoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, a +finished body.</p> + +<p>"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. What +a child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I was +jealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, be +jealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, who +will come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still empty +niches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it is +to me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening, +in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54 +will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. I +shall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will be +my turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love.</p> + +<p>"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in the +library, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the people +who were assembled there.</p> + +<p>"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuareg +slaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference.</p> + +<p>"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so many +people who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other.</p> + +<p>"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountain +into uproar.</p> + +<p>"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to the +West, in Adhar Ahnet.</p> + +<p>"As soon as Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go to +meet them.</p> + +<p>"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing.</p> + +<p>"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt.</p> + +<p>"For the first time, Antinea was in love."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 142 --> +<h2><a name="XV"><!-- Chapter 15 --></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"<i>Arraôu, arraôu</i>."</p> + +<p>I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep to which I had finally +succumbed. I half opened my eyes. Immediately I flattened back.</p> + +<p>"<i>Arraôu</i>."</p> + +<p>Two feet from my face was the muzzle of King Hiram, yellow with a +tracery of black. The leopard was helping me to wake up; otherwise he +took little interest, for he yawned; his dark red jaws, beautiful +gleaming white fangs, opened and closed lazily.</p> + +<p>At the same moment I heard a burst of laughter.</p> + +<p>It was little Tanit-Zerga. She was crouching on a cushion near the +divan where I was stretched out, curiously watching my close interview +with the leopard.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram was bored," she felt obliged to explain to me. "I brought +him."</p> + +<p>"How nice," I growled. "Only tell me, could he not have gone somewhere +else to be amused?"</p> + +<p>"He is all alone now," said the girl. "<i>They</i> have sent him away. He +made too much noise when he played."</p> + +<p>These words recalled me to the events of the previous evening.</p> + +<p>"If you like, I will make him go away," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"No, let him alone."</p> + +<p>I looked at the leopard with sympathy. Our common misfortune brought +us together.</p> + +<p>I even caressed his rounded forehead. King Hiram showed his +contentment by stretching out at full length and uncurling his great +amber claws. The mat on the floor had much to suffer.</p> + +<p>"Galé is here, too," said the little girl.</p> + +<p>"Galé! Who may he be?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 143 -->At the same time, I saw on Tanit-Zerga's knees a strange animal, +about the size of a big cat, with flat ears, and a long muzzle. Its +pale gray fur was rough.</p> + +<p>It was watching me with queer little pink eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is my mongoose," explained Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"Come now," I said sharply, "is that all?"</p> + +<p>I must have looked so crabbed and ridiculous that Tanit-Zerga began to +laugh. I laughed, too.</p> + +<p>"Galé is my friend," she said when she was serious again. "I saved her +life. It was when she was quite little. I will tell you about it some +day. See how good-natured she is."</p> + +<p>So saying, she dropped the mongoose on my knees.</p> + +<p>"It is very nice of you, Tanit-Zerga," I said, "to come and pay me a +visit." I passed my hand slowly over the animal's back. "What time is +it now?"</p> + +<p>"A little after nine. See, the sun is already high. Let me draw the +shade."</p> + +<p>The room was in darkness. Galé's eyes grew redder. King Hiram's became +green.</p> + +<p>"It is very nice of you," I repeated, pursuing my idea. "I see that +you are free to-day. You never came so early before."</p> + +<p>A shade passed over the girl's forehead.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am free," she said, almost bitterly.</p> + +<p>I looked at Tanit-Zerga more closely. For the first time I realized +that she was beautiful. Her hair, which she wore falling over her +shoulders, was not so much curly as it was gently waving. Her features +were of remarkable fineness: the nose very straight, a small mouth +with delicate lips, a strong chin. She was not black, but copper +colored. Her slender graceful body had nothing in common with the +disgusting thick sausages which the carefully cared for bodies of the +blacks become.</p> + +<p>A large circle of copper made a heavy decoration around her forehead +and hair. She had four bracelets, still heavier, on her wrists and +anklets, and, for clothing, a green silk tunic, slashed in points, +braided with gold. Green, bronze, gold.</p> + +<p>"You are a Sonrhaï, Tanit-Zerga?" I asked gently.</p> + +<p>She replied with almost ferocious pride:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 144 -->I am a Sonrhaï."</p> + +<p>"Strange little thing," I thought.</p> + +<p>Evidently this was a subject on which Tanit-Zerga did not intend the +conversation to turn. I recalled how, almost painfully, she had +pronounced that "they," when she had told me how they had driven away +King Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I am a Sonrhaï," she repeated. "I was born at Gâo, on the Niger, the +ancient Sonrhaï capital. My fathers reigned over the great Mandingue +Empire. You need not scorn me because I am here as a slave."</p> + +<p>In a ray of sunlight, Galé, seated on his little haunches, washed his +shining mustaches with his forepaws; and King Hiram, stretched out on +the mat, groaned plaintively in his sleep.</p> + +<p>"He is dreaming," said Tanit-Zerga, a finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>There was a moment of silence. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"You must be hungry. And I do not think that you will want to eat with +the others."</p> + +<p>I did not answer.</p> + +<p>"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something +to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Galé's dinner +here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone."</p> + +<p>And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my +answer.</p> + +<p>That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she +came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of +Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that +she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to +her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself, +dared not direct the conversation.</p> + +<p>To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like +a nervous little parokeet.</p> + +<p>I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended +me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big +and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my +delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 145 -->In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and +among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life.</p> + +<p>It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far +this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou +art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou +watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not +having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou +deservedest so richly.</p> + +<p>"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and +rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth +waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger, +it was.... But you are not listening to me."</p> + +<p>"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga."</p> + +<p>"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?"</p> + +<p>"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at +the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees, +brothers of the <i>zeg-zeg</i>, the spines of which pierced the head of +your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our +prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of +Paradise;<a name="FNanchor_Q_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> +and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse +its shade in a century.</p> + +<p>"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the +caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to +ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great +snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in +glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash.</p> + +<p>"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gâo the deathlike lull +of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of +the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep +along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies +on the banks, <!-- Page 146 -->and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of +the mud flats.</p> + +<p>"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the +morning; and to fête the sun setting behind the black branches of the +<i>douldouls</i>, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our +hands, as we sang the Sonrhaï hymn.</p> + +<p>"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must +not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you +like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who +must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold +ribbons he had on his white sleeves."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay +no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these +things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gâo, the Niger makes a +bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with +large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking. +Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the +morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum, +boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder—boum-boum, +boum-baraboum—and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds, +aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum +trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely +flurried by the breeze that was springing up.</p> + +<p>"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook +the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that +the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was +dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening.</p> + +<p>"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down, +manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon +leapt ashore.</p> + +<p>"The oldest, a French <i>marabout</i>, with a great white burnous, who knew +our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my +father advanced and told him that it was he, the <i>marabout</i> told him +that the commandant <!-- Page 147 -->of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a +mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that +she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage +towards Ansango.</p> + +<p>"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives +against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but +for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the +resources of Gâo, including the forge, at the disposition of the +French chief, for repairing the gunboat.</p> + +<p>"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked +at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little +bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear.</p> + +<p>"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice.</p> + +<p>"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,' +I replied, vexed at his informality.</p> + +<p>"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you +give me the flowers that you have around your neck?'</p> + +<p>"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He +kissed me. The peace was made.</p> + +<p>"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and +strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the +river.</p> + +<p>"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief +mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away +before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy +soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.'</p> + +<p>"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend.</p> + +<p>"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little +companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most +beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that +had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great +cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I +went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay +with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples +on the surface of the dark waves.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 148 -->That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French +officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his +head: 'Caw,—caw—the shade of the gum trees of Gâo—caw, caw—will +avail nothing tomorrow night—caw, caw—to the white chief nor to his +escort.'</p> + +<p>"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers. +They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage +of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing.</p> + +<p>"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority:</p> + +<p>'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that +the shade of the gum trees of Gâo would be fatal to your chief in the +coming night!...'</p> + +<p>"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the +sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added:</p> + +<p>"'And to his escort!'</p> + +<p>"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating +in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic +entered.</p> + +<p>"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like +angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave +this evening.'</p> + +<p>"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by +too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the +week. It will be better to start in the morning.'</p> + +<p>"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my +dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he +said gravely:</p> + +<p>"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you +wish it.'</p> + +<p>"And he kissed me.</p> + +<p>"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left +the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who +waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the +rickety jetty, I <!-- Page 149 -->waited, watching the water flow by, until the last +sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into +the night."<a name="FNanchor_R_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_16"><sup>[16]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga paused.</p> + +<p>"That was the last night of Gâo. While I was sleeping and the moon was +still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant. +Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can +never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found +me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my +little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who +escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among +them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men. +Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of +Gâo beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gâo had been razed +by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their gunboat.</p> + +<p>"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being +pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp +disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen, +in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan +Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhât. At first, because they went +more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was +an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the +men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick +for having refused to go farther.</p> + +<p>"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead +as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each +time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one +of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a +little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me +turn <!-- Page 150 -->around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor +arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed +in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from +a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue +steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later, +driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears, +trying to regain my place in the caravan.</p> + +<p>"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg +of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, which rules +over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man. +That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who +was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it +is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not +even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhaï Emperors, +of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed +Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen +hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand <i>mithkal</i> of gold in the +days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to +the western sea, and when Gâo raised her cupola, sister of the sky, +above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the +tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XVI"><!-- Chapter 16--></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE SILVER HAMMER</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Je ne m'en défends plus et je ne veux qu' aller</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Reconnaître la place où je dois l'immoler</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i16">(Andromaque.)</span> +</div></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was this sort of a night when what I am going to tell you now +happened. Toward five o'clock the sky clouded over and a sense of the +coming storm trembled in the stifling air.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 151 -->I shall always remember it. It was the fifth of January, 1897.</p> + +<p>King Hiram and Galé lay heavily on the matting of my room. Leaning on +my elbows beside Tanit-Zerga in the rock-hewn window, I spied the +advance tremors of lightning.</p> + +<p>One by one they rose, streaking the now total darkness with their +bluish stripes. But no burst of thunder followed. The storm did not +attain the peaks of Ahaggar. It passed without breaking, leaving us in +our gloomy bath of sweat.</p> + +<p>"I am going to bed," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>I have said that her room was above mine. Its bay window was some +thirty feet above that before which I lay.</p> + +<p>She took Galé in her arms. But King Hiram would have none of it. +Digging his four paws into the matting, he whined in anger and +uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep +here."</p> + +<p>So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of +responsibility in the events which followed.</p> + +<p>Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The +whole mountain was shrouded in silence.</p> + +<p>It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from +my meditation.</p> + +<p>King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn +claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now +wanted to go out. He was determined to go out.</p> + +<p>"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!"</p> + +<p>I tried to pull him away from the door.</p> + +<p>I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw.</p> + +<p>Then I sat down on the divan.</p> + +<p>My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange +abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only +one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of +Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps +a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen +tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as +this?"</p> + +<p>Immediately I made a resolve.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 152 -->If I open the door," I thought, "King Hiram will leap down the +corridor and I shall have great difficulty in following him. I must +find some other way."</p> + +<p>The shade of the window was worked by means of a small cord. I pulled +it down. Then I tied it into a firm leash which I fastened to the +metal collar of the leopard.</p> + +<p>I half opened the door.</p> + +<p>"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly."</p> + +<p>I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who +dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly +before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost +burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was +casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here +on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the +leopard.</p> + +<p>At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained +ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy.</p> + +<p>Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor. +Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat +room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear +presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to +take me.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly +glimmering red and green, appeared before us.</p> + +<p>The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose +window was cut.</p> + +<p>I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me +the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when +I had found myself in the presence of Antinea.</p> + +<p>"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he +would not give a dangerously loud growl.</p> + +<p>I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell +upon the floor, green and red.</p> + +<p>A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better +control of King Hiram who was getting nervous.</p> + +<p>The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was +completely dark. But the garden on which it gave <!-- Page 153 -->shone under a +clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not +break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter.</p> + +<p>I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my +knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my +goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means.</p> + +<p>Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices.</p> + +<p>King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash. +He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices +seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among +the scattered cushions.</p> + +<p>My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of +cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had +stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound.</p> + +<p>Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I +opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered +feebly.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet."</p> + +<p>And I put my arms about his powerful neck.</p> + +<p>I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook +with happiness.</p> + +<p>In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the +middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and +drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems.</p> + +<p>They were the white Tuareg.</p> + +<p>A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them. +Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow.</p> + +<p>The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light +and shadow, made a strange etching.</p> + +<p>They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous +voices.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 154 -->Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the +impatient little beast.</p> + +<p>"Go, boy."</p> + +<p>He leapt with a sharp yelp.</p> + +<p>And what I had foreseen happened.</p> + +<p>The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white +Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him +into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of +another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was +standing.</p> + +<p>"There!" I thought.</p> + +<p>The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One +realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon +the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in +one direction, the copper cups, in the other.</p> + +<p>Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with +low oaths.</p> + +<p>I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into +the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor, +down which King Hiram had just disappeared.</p> + +<p>At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which +seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way.</p> + +<p>One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I +was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated.</p> + +<p>"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back +politely to my room."</p> + +<p>The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber +of Antinea.</p> + +<p>The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the +right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left +was dim.</p> + +<p>Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a <i>guignol</i> +is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its +opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I +noticed such a <i>guignol</i> <!-- Page 155 -->at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat +in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm.</p> + +<p>There I could see and hear everything.</p> + +<p>I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room, +except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow, +but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming +stuffs and furs.</p> + +<p>Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver +tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her +feet, licking them madly.</p> + +<p>The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the +other on his forehead, saluting.</p> + +<p>Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man.</p> + +<p>"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be +alone."</p> + +<p>"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly.</p> + +<p>"The doors were not closed, then?"</p> + +<p>The slave did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Shall I take him away?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, +expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply.</p> + +<p>"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea.</p> + +<p>She tapped nervously on the little silver tray.</p> + +<p>"What is the captain doing?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa +answered.</p> + +<p>"Has he said nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer."</p> + +<p>Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Did he say nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"No, mistress," said the man.</p> + +<p>A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead.</p> + +<p>"Go get him," she said brusquely.</p> + +<p>Bowing, the Targa left the room.</p> + +<p>I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had +he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He +had wanted to see me and been unable to!</p> + +<p>My eyes never left Antinea's.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 156 -->She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first +interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not +a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic. +Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight +shoulders and her bare arms.</p> + +<p>Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did +not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering +Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her.</p> + +<p>An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the +wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw +her nude.</p> + +<p>A splendid and bitter sight!—A woman who thinks herself alone, +standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to +subdue!</p> + +<p>The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible +columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in +which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me, +standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror.</p> + +<p>Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into +the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such +a transformation to believe it possible.</p> + +<p>Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa.</p> + +<p>He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression +of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt +that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never.</p> + +<p>He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture +inviting him to be seated.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send +for you at so late an hour."</p> + +<p>Morhange did not move an eyelash.</p> + +<p>"Have you considered it well?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply.</p> + +<p>I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to <!-- Page 157 -->continue +smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings.</p> + +<p>"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is +to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise +to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your +captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?"</p> + +<p>"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said +Morhange simply.</p> + +<p>I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at +Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing +the one wish he had expressed.</p> + +<p>But Antinea continued calmly:</p> + +<p>"That is why I sent for you—to tell you that you are going to see him +again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me +even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me +to your will—I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however +that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you +satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile.</p> + +<p>"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for +the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I +shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time, +to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my +government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers +and several cannon."</p> + +<p>Antinea was standing up, very pale.</p> + +<p>"What are you saying?"</p> + +<p>"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First +threats, then promises."</p> + +<p>Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her +with a sort of grave pity.</p> + +<p>"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally.</p> + +<p>"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 158 -->I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm.</p> + +<p>Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my +companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face.</p> + +<p>He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together +with a strange mixture of force and gentleness.</p> + +<p>King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes +of Morhange held him fascinated.</p> + +<p>"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was +overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply.</p> + +<p>"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he +would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name."</p> + +<p>So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From +the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to +him.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said.</p> + +<p>How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless +for the first time!</p> + +<p>"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I +hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your +life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...."</p> + +<p>"I have remembered all that," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"A last time," she repeated.</p> + +<p>The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely +noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of +worldliness remained.</p> + +<p>"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking.</p> + +<p>Morhange was not even looking at her.</p> + +<p>"As you will," she said.</p> + +<p>Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa +appeared.</p> + +<p>"Leave the room!"</p> + +<p>Morhange, his head held high, went out.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 159 -->Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom +I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl.</p> + +<p>So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped +out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in +the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her +mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... <i>O tremblant +coeur humain</i>....</p> + +<p>Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the +langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice, +the voice which is murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it."</p> + +<p>My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft, +nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems +as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant +censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream:</p> + +<p>"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it."</p> + +<p>Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in +her great eyes.</p> + +<p>Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a +little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong +with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she +struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver +head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death....</p> + +<p>I see nothing more....</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XVII"><!-- Chapter 17--></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>I awakened in my room. The sun, already at its zenith, filled the +place with unbearable light and heat.</p> + +<p>The first thing I saw, on opening my eyes, was the shade, ripped down, +lying in the middle of the floor. Then, confusedly, the night's events +began to come back to me.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 160 -->My head felt stupid and heavy. My mind wandered. My memory seemed +blocked. "I went out with the leopard, that is certain. That red mark +on my forefinger shows how he strained at the leash. My knees are +still dusty. I remember creeping along the wall in the room where the +white Tuareg were playing at dice. That was the minute after King +Hiram had leapt past them. After that ... oh, Morhange and Antinea.... +And then?"</p> + +<p>I recalled nothing more. I recalled nothing more. But something must +have happened, something which I could not remember.</p> + +<p>I was uneasy. I wanted to go back, yet it seemed as if I were afraid +to go. I have never felt anything more painful than those conflicting +emotions.</p> + +<p>"It is a long way from here to Antinea's apartments. I must have been +very sound asleep not to have noticed when they brought me back—for +they have brought me back."</p> + +<p>I stopped trying to think it out. My head ached too much.</p> + +<p>"I must have air," I murmured. "I am roasting here; it will drive me +mad."</p> + +<p>I had to see someone, no matter whom. Mechanically, I walked toward +the library.</p> + +<p>I found M. Le Mesge in a transport of delirious joy. The Professor was +engaged in opening an enormous bale, carefully sewed in a brown +blanket.</p> + +<p>"You come at a good time, sir," he cried, on seeing me enter. "The +magazines have just arrived."</p> + +<p>He dashed about in feverish haste. Presently a stream of pamphlets and +magazines, blue, green, yellow and salmon, was bursting from an +opening in the bale.</p> + +<p>"Splendid, splendid!" he cried, dancing with joy. "Not too late, +either; here are the numbers for October fifteenth. We must give a +vote of thanks to good Ameur."</p> + +<p>His good spirits were contagious.</p> + +<p>"There is a good Turkish merchant who subscribes to all the +interesting magazines of the two continents. He sends them on by +Rhadamès to a destination which he little suspects. Ah, here are the +French ones."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge ran feverishly over, the tables of contents.</p> + +<p>"Internal politics: articles by Francis Charmes, Anatole +<!-- Page 161 -->Leroy-Beaulieu, d'Haussonville on the Czar's trip to Paris. Look, a +study by Avenel of wages in the Middle Ages. And verse, verses of the +young poets, Fernand Gregh, Edmond Haraucourt. Ah, the resumé of a +book by Henry de Castries on Islam. That may be interesting.... Take +what you please."</p> + +<p>Joy makes people amiable and M. Le Mesge was really delirious with it.</p> + +<p>A puff of breeze came from the window. I went to the balustrade and, +resting my elbows on it, began to run through a number of the <i>Revue +des Deux Mondes</i>.</p> + +<p>I did not read, but flipped over the pages, my eyes now on the lines +of swarming little black characters, now on the rocky basin which lay +shivering, pale pink, under the declining sun.</p> + +<p>Suddenly my attention became fixed. There was a strange coincidence +between the text and the landscape.</p> + +<p>"In the sky overhead were only light shreds of cloud, like bits of +white ash floating up from burnt-out logs. The sun fell over a circle +of rocky peaks, silhouetting their severe lines against the azure sky. +From on high, a great sadness and gentleness poured down into the +lonely enclosure, like a magic drink into a +deep cup...."<a name="FNanchor_S_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_17"><sup>[17]</sup></a></p> + +<p>I turned the pages feverishly. My mind seemed to be clearing.</p> + +<p>Behind me, M. Le Mesge, deep in an article, voiced his opinions in +indignant growls.</p> + +<p>I continued reading:</p> + +<p>"On all sides a magnificent view spread out before us in the raw +light. The chain of rocks, clearly visible in their barren desolation +which stretched to the very summit, lay stretched out like some great +heap of gigantic, unformed things left by some primordial race of +Titans to stupefy human beings. Overturned towers...."</p> + +<p>"It is shameful, downright shameful," the Professor was repeating.</p> + +<p>"Overturned towers, crumbling citadels, cupolas fallen in, broken +pillars, mutilated colossi, prows of vessels, thighs of <!-- Page 162 -->monsters, +bones of titans,—this mass, impassable with its ridges and gullies, +seemed the embodiment of everything huge and tragic. So clear were the +distances...."</p> + +<p>"Downright shameful," M. Le Mesge kept on saying in exasperation, +thumping his fist on the table.</p> + +<p>"So clear were the distances that I could see, as if I had it under my +eyes, infinitely enlarged, every contour of the rock which Violante +had shown me through the window with the gesture of a creator...."</p> + +<p>Trembling, I closed the magazine. At my feet, now red, I saw the rock +which Antinea had pointed out to me the day of our first interview, +huge, steep, overhanging the reddish brown garden.</p> + +<p>"That is my horizon," she had said.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge's excitement had passed all bounds.</p> + +<p>"It is worse than shameful; it is infamous."</p> + +<p>I almost wanted to strangle him into silence. He seized my arm.</p> + +<p>"Read that, sir; and, although you don't know a great deal about the +subject, you will see that this article on Roman Africa is a miracle +of misinformation, a monument of ignorance. And it is signed ... do +you know by whom it is signed?"</p> + +<p>"Leave me alone," I said brutally.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is signed Gaston Boissier. Yes, sir! Gaston Boissier, grand +officer of the Legion of Honor, lecturer at the <i>Ecole Normale +Supérieure</i>, permanent secretary of the French Academy, member of the +Academy of Inscriptions and Literature, one of those who once ruled +out the subject of my thesis ... one of those ... ah, poor university, +ah, poor France!"</p> + +<p>I was no longer listening. I had begun to read again. My forehead was +covered with sweat. But it seemed as if my head had been cleared like +a room when a window is opened; memories were beginning to come back +like doves winging their way home to the dovecote.</p> + +<p>"At that moment, an irrepressible tremor shook her whole body; her +eyes dilated as if some terrible sight had filled them with horror.</p> + +<p>"'Antonello,' she murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 163 -->And for seconds, she was unable to say another word.</p> + +<p>"I looked at her in mute anguish and the suffering which drew her dear +lips together seemed also to clutch at my heart. The vision which was +in her eyes passed into mine, and I saw again the thin white face of +Antonello, and the quick quivering of his eyelids, the waves of agony +which seized his long worn body and shook it like a reed."</p> + +<p>I threw the magazine upon the table.</p> + +<p>"That is it," I said.</p> + +<p>To cut the pages, I had used the knife with which M. Le Mesge had cut +the cords of the bale, a short ebony-handled dagger, one of those +daggers that the Tuareg wear in a bracelet sheath against the upper +left arm.</p> + +<p>I slipped it into the big pocket of my flannel dolman and walked +toward the door.</p> + +<p>I was about to cross the threshold when I heard M. Le Mesge call me.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Saint Avit! Monsieur de Saint Avit!</p> + +<p>"I want to ask you something, please."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing important. You know that I have to mark the labels for the +red marble hall...."</p> + +<p>I walked toward the table.</p> + +<p>"Well, I forgot to ask M. Morhange, at the beginning, the date and +place of his birth. After that, I had no chance. I did not see him +again. So I am forced to turn to you. Perhaps you can tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I can," I said very calmly.</p> + +<p>He took a large white card from a box which contained several and +dipped his pen.</p> + +<p>"Number 54 ... Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Jean-Marie-François Morhange."</p> + +<p>While I dictated, one hand resting on the table, I noticed on my cuff +a stain, a little stain, reddish brown.</p> + +<p>"Morhange," repeated M. Le Mesge, finishing the lettering of my +friend's name. "Born at...?"</p> + +<p>"Villefranche."</p> + +<p>"Villefranche, Rhône. What date?"</p> + +<p>"The fourteenth of October, 1859."</p> + +<p>"The fourteenth of October, 1859. Good. Died at Ahaggar, <!-- Page 164 -->the fifth of +January, 1897.... There, that is done. A thousand thanks, sir, for +your kindness."</p> + +<p>"You are welcome."</p> + +<p>I left M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>My mind, thenceforth, was well made up; and, as I said, I was +perfectly calm. Nevertheless, when I had taken leave of M. Le Mesge, I +felt the need of waiting a few minutes before executing my decision.</p> + +<p>First I wandered through the corridors; then, finding myself near my +room, I went to it. It was still intolerably hot. I sat down on my +divan and began to think.</p> + +<p>The dagger in my pocket bothered me. I took it out and laid it on the +floor.</p> + +<p>It was a good dagger, with a diamond-shaped blade, and with a collar +of orange leather between the blade and the handle.</p> + +<p>The sight of it recalled the silver hammer. I remembered how easily it +fitted into my hand when I struck....</p> + +<p>Every detail of the scene came back to me with incomparable vividness. +But I did not even shiver. It seemed as if my determination to kill +the instigator of the murder permitted me peacefully to evoke its +brutal details.</p> + +<p>If I reflected over my deed, it was to be surprised at it, not to +condemn myself.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said to myself, "I have killed this Morhange, who was once a +baby, who, like all the others, cost his mother so much trouble with +his baby sicknesses. I have put an end to his life, I have reduced to +nothingness the monument of love, of tears, of trials overcome and +pitfalls escaped, which constitutes a human existence. What an +extraordinary adventure!"</p> + +<p>That was all. No fear, no remorse, none of that Shakespearean horror +after the murder, which, today, sceptic though I am and blasé and +utterly, utterly disillusioned, sets me shuddering whenever I am alone +in a dark room.</p> + +<p>"Come," I thought. "It's time. Time to finish it up."</p> + +<p>I picked up the dagger. Before putting it in my pocket, I went through +the motion of striking. All was well. The dagger fitted into my hand.</p> + +<p>I had been through Antinea's apartment only when <!-- Page 165 -->guided, the first +time by the white Targa, the second time, by the leopard. Yet I found +the way again without trouble. Just before coming to the door with the +rose window, I met a Targa.</p> + +<p>"Let me pass," I ordered. "Your mistress has sent for me." The man +obeyed, stepping back.</p> + +<p>Soon a dim melody came to my ears. I recognized the sound of a +<i>rebaza</i>, the violin with a single string, played by the Tuareg women. +It was Aguida playing, squatting as usual at the feet of her mistress. +The three other women were also squatted about her. Tanit-Zerga was +not there.</p> + +<p>Oh! Since that was the last time I saw her, let, oh, let me tell you +of Antinea, how she looked in that supreme moment.</p> + +<p>Did she feel the danger hovering over her and did she wish to brave it +by her surest artifices? I had in mind the slender; unadorned body, +without rings, without jewels, which I had pressed to my heart the +night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me, +adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen!</p> + +<p>The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On +her head was the great gold <i>pschent</i> of Egyptian gods and kings; +emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing +and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin <i>schenti</i>, +embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel. +At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare +arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as +if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the <i>pschent</i> +streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her +determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat.</p> + +<p>She smiled as I entered.</p> + +<p>"I was expecting you," she said simply.</p> + +<p>I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before +her.</p> + +<p>She looked at me ironically.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm.</p> + +<p>I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my +pocket.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 166 -->I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike.</p> + +<p>"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the +red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women, +whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring.</p> + +<p>She turned to me.</p> + +<p>"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to +my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than +with the dagger."</p> + +<p>"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are +you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes +were wide with terror.</p> + +<p>"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the +moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...."</p> + +<p>"Did—did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling.</p> + +<p>"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done +nothing else all your life."</p> + +<p>"Like little Kaine," I murmured.</p> + +<p>She smiled in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least +Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand myself, very well."</p> + +<p>She looked at me with amused curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Antinea," I said.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one +question?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It was dark, was it not, in the room where <i>he</i> was?"</p> + +<p>"Very dark. I had to lead you to the bed where he lay asleep."</p> + +<p>"He <i>was</i> asleep, you are sure?"</p> + +<p>"I said so."</p> + +<p>"He—did not die instantly, did he?"</p> + +<p>"No. I know exactly when he died; two minutes after you struck him and +fled with a shriek."</p> + +<p>"Then surely <i>he</i> could not have known?"</p> + +<p>"Known what?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 167 -->That it was I who—who held the hammer."</p> + +<p>"He might not have known it, indeed," Antinea said. "But he did know."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"He did know ... because I told him," she said, staring at me with +magnificent audacity.</p> + +<p>"And," I murmured, "he—he believed it?"</p> + +<p>"With the help of my explanation, he recognized your shriek. If he had +not realized that you were his murderer, the affair would not have +interested me," she finished with a scornful little smile.</p> + +<p>Four steps, I said, separated me from Antinea. I sprang forward. But, +before I reached her, I was struck to the floor.</p> + +<p>King Hiram had leapt at my throat.</p> + +<p>At the same moment I heard the calm, haughty voice of Antinea:</p> + +<p>"Call the men," she commanded.</p> + +<p>A second later I was released from the leopard's clutch. The six white +Tuareg had surrounded me and were trying to bind me.</p> + +<p>I am fairly strong and quick. I was on my feet in a second. One of my +enemies lay on the floor, ten feet away, felled by a well-placed blow +on the jaw. Another was gasping under my knee. That was the last time +I saw Antinea. She stood erect, both hands resting on her ebony +scepter, watching the struggle with a smile of contemptuous interest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I gave a loud cry and loosed the hold I had on my victim. A +cracking in my left arm: one of the Tuareg had seized it and twisted +until my shoulder was dislocated.</p> + +<p>When I completely lost consciousness, I was being carried down the +corridor by two white phantoms, so bound that I could not move a +muscle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 168 --> +<h2><a name="XVIII"><!-- Chapter 18--></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE FIRE-FLIES</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my +room.</p> + +<p>A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay.</p> + +<p>"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Sh! Yes, it is I."</p> + +<p>I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my +shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed +mind.</p> + +<p>"Oh, little one, if you knew!"</p> + +<p>"I know," she said.</p> + +<p>I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a +fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me.</p> + +<p>"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get me +away from here."</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at the +door."</p> + +<p>"Take me away; save me," I repeated.</p> + +<p>"That is what I came for," she said simply.</p> + +<p>I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk +tunic. A plain white <i>haik</i> was wrapped about her; and she had drawn +one corner of it over her head.</p> + +<p>"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice.</p> + +<p>"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gâo, the +village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the +green water.</p> + +<p>"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated, +"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared +speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of +<i>her</i>.... But you, you wanted to kill her."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 169 -->I gave a low moan.</p> + +<p>"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm."</p> + +<p>"Dislocated it anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Let me see."</p> + +<p>With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, +Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?"</p> + +<p>"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular +line halved its blue opening.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. +A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the +opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound.</p> + +<p>She came back to me.</p> + +<p>"How can we escape?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window.</p> + +<p>I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching +for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had +dashed himself.</p> + +<p>"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet from +here to the ground."</p> + +<p>"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strong +rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is +quite new."</p> + +<p>"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!"</p> + +<p>"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are. +Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of +the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of +them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight.</p> + +<p>"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. I +can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest."</p> + +<p>"And you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and +follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands +too much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gâo, when I was +just a child, I used to <!-- Page 170 -->climb almost as high as this in the gum trees +to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to +climb down."</p> + +<p>"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way +through the barriers?"</p> + +<p>"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "except +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea."</p> + +<p>"Then?"</p> + +<p>"There are the camels of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on +his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below +us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will +be well fed when we start."</p> + +<p>"But...." I still protested.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to +see Gâo once again, Gâo with its blue gum-trees and its green water."</p> + +<p>I felt myself blushing.</p> + +<p>"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of +the desert than stay here. Let us start."</p> + +<p>"Tut!" she said. "Not yet."</p> + +<p>She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will +have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time."</p> + +<p>She sat silent, her <i>haik</i> wrapped completely about her dark little +figure. Was she praying? Perhaps.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The +moon had turned.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I +tried not to tremble.</p> + +<p>Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga +began to speak:</p> + +<p>"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here +is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it +pressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It is +tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against +the bumping and scraping."</p> + +<p>I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the <!-- Page 171 -->sill of the +window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks +refreshed me.</p> + +<p>I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket.</p> + +<p>"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You +will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and +follow you."</p> + +<p>She held my hand a moment.</p> + +<p>"Now go," she murmured.</p> + +<p>I went.</p> + +<p>I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with +vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, +against the perfectly smooth wall.</p> + +<p>"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have been +hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am +stopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but +it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove +with my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. +I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I was +down.</p> + +<p>Immediately I began to get nervous again.</p> + +<p>I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, +I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of +the mountain, and put my foot on it.</p> + +<p>Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it.</p> + +<p>One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky +night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their +pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope."</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side.</p> + +<p>I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let +go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me," he repeated with authority.</p> + +<p>And he took it from my hands.</p> + +<p>I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great +dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, <!-- Page 172 -->with a dislocated +shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? +What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding +the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much +better than I had been able to do.</p> + +<p>A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form.</p> + +<p>"There," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his +powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let +slack, slapped back against the rock.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned.</p> + +<p>He put his hand roughly over her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly."</p> + +<p>He seized her arm. Then he turned to me.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said in an imperious tone.</p> + +<p>I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teeth +chattering with terror.</p> + +<p>We reached a little cave.</p> + +<p>"Go in," said the Targa.</p> + +<p>He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully +chewing his cud.</p> + +<p>"The little one is not stupid," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to +the animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. +But she is rattle-brained."</p> + +<p>He held the torch nearer the camel.</p> + +<p>"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. No +water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you +would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!"</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa +with a mixture of terror and hope.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I can +explain to you."</p> + +<p>When I was beside him, he said:</p> + +<p>"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as long +as possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may be +that you will not find a well for three hundred miles.</p> + +<p>"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat. +Not many, for water is much more precious. <!-- Page 173 -->Here also is a carbine, +your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. And +there is this."</p> + +<p>He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent over +it; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Toward Idelès, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me," +I said.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much," he murmured.</p> + +<p>Then he added coldly:</p> + +<p>"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have been +caught and massacred."</p> + +<p>"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is under +the control of Antinea. You must go south."</p> + +<p>"Then we shall go south."</p> + +<p>"By what route?"</p> + +<p>"Why, by Silet and Timissao."</p> + +<p>The Targa again shook his head.</p> + +<p>"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a good +road, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar with +it. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells."</p> + +<p>"Well, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road from +Timissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from here +toward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That is +the boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the Awellimiden +Tuareg."</p> + +<p>The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in:</p> + +<p>"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried me +into slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of the +Awellimiden."</p> + +<p>"Be still, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh.</p> + +<p>Then addressing me, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The +Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French. +Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other +hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow +you into their country. What <!-- Page 174 -->I have said, is said. You must rejoin +the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the +Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach +the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy +of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi +is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross +the Tanezruft."</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft +is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would +shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He +knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or +become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is +the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have +to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of +the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route.</p> + +<p>"You can stay here," he added.</p> + +<p>"My choice is made, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I announced.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail +begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It +ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them +too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the +route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the +little one. Two make less noise than four."</p> + +<p>We went a long way in silence. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his +camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep +gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a +thick tangle of rocks and briars.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light +filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had stopped.</p> + +<p>"Get down," he said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 175 -->A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a +copper cup with the water.</p> + +<p>"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents +of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset."</p> + +<p>He looked over the saddle girths.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will +be here. You must be out of sight."</p> + +<p>I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and +took his hand.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing +this?"</p> + +<p>He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, why?"</p> + +<p>He replied with dignity:</p> + +<p>"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pity +take the place of duty. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permission +to the advantage of one who saved his life."</p> + +<p>"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of +Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. +"It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain +met his death."</p> + +<p>I was horrified at this logical reply.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the +little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is +coming."</p> + +<p>I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew +back.</p> + +<p>"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes +of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you +nor for anyone else."</p> + +<p>And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not +protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which <!-- Page 176 -->still sounds in my +ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to +you."</p> + +<p>I looked at him uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. +"For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the +help of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"You will come back," the Targa replied.</p> + +<p>He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock.</p> + +<p>"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now, +but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world with +the same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow you +everywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you will +pass again through the corridor through which you have just come."</p> + +<p>"Be still, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice of +Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh.</p> + +<p>He sneered.</p> + +<p>"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. She +knows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti."</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead.</p> + +<p>"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhât and Rhadamès eight +years ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make him +forget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and he +succeeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back to +his country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day, +when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tattered +creature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for the +entrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, come +back. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall."</p> + +<p>The Targa smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear. +But enough of this. Mount your camel."</p> + +<p>I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated be<!-- Page 177 -->hind me, put +her little arms around me. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was still holding the +bridle.</p> + +<p>"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violet +sky of the southern horizon. "You see the <i>gour</i> there; that is your +way. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise. +Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not stray +from the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days."</p> + +<p>The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from the +south.</p> + +<p>The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand.</p> + +<p>"Now go."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you, +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell."</p> + +<p>I heard his voice replying in the distance:</p> + +<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>, Lieutenant de Saint Avit."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIX"><!-- Chapter 19--></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE TANEZRUFT</h3> + + +<p> </p> + +<p>During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five +leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the <i>gour</i> which +the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher +against the paling sky.</p> + +<p>The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts +of <i>retem</i>, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left.</p> + +<p>I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering:</p> + +<p>"Stop the camel."</p> + +<p>At first I did not understand.</p> + +<p>"Stop him," she repeated.</p> + +<p>Her hand pulled sharply at my right arm.</p> + +<p>I obeyed. The camel slackened his pace with very bad grace.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 178 -->At first I heard nothing. Then a very slight noise, a dry rustling +behind us.</p> + +<p>"Stop the camel," Tanit-Zerga commanded. "It is not worth while to +make him kneel."</p> + +<p>A little gray creature bounded on the camel. The mehari set out again +at his best speed.</p> + +<p>"Let him go," said Tanit-Zerga. "Galé has jumped on."</p> + +<p>I felt a tuft of bristly hair under my arm. The mongoose had followed +our footsteps and rejoined us. I heard the quick panting of the brave +little creature becoming gradually slower and slower.</p> + +<p>"I am happy," murmured Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had not been mistaken. We reached the <i>gour</i> as the +sun rose. I looked back. The Atakor was nothing more than a monstrous +chaos amid the night mists which trailed the dawn. It was no longer +possible to pick out from among the nameless peaks, the one on which +Antinea was still weaving her passionate plots.</p> + +<p>You know what the Tanezruft is, the "plain of plains," abandoned, +uninhabitable, the country of hunger and thirst. We were then starting +on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the +south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works +under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without +vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast."</p> + +<p>Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this +rocky desert. Oh, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh did not exaggerate in saying that +no one would dream of following us into that country.</p> + +<p>Great patches of oblivion still refused to clear away. Memories chased +each other incoherently about my head. A sentence came back to me +textually: "It seemed to Dick that he had never, since the beginning +of original darkness, done anything at all save jolt through the air." +I gave a little laugh. "In the last few hours," I thought, "I have +been heaping up literary situations. A while ago, a hundred feet above +the ground, I was Fabrice of <i>La Chartreuse de Parme</i> beside his +Italian dungeon. Now, here on my camel, I am Dick of <i>The Light That +Failed</i>, crossing the desert to meet his com<!-- Page 179 -->panions in arms." I +chuckled again; then shuddered. I thought of the preceding night, of +the Orestes of <i>Andromaque</i> who agreed to sacrifice Pyrrhus. A +literary situation indeed....</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had reckoned eight days to get to the wooded +country of the Awellimiden, forerunners of the grassy steppes of the +Soudan. He knew well the worth of his beast. Tanit-Zerga had suddenly +given him a name, <i>El Mellen</i>, the white one, for the magnificent +mehari had an almost spotless coat. Once he went two days without +eating, merely picking up here and there a branch of an acacia tree +whose hideous white spines, four inches long, filled me with fear for +our friend's oesophagus. The wells marked out by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh +were indeed at the indicated spots, but we found nothing in them but a +burning yellow mud. It was enough for the camel, enough so that at the +end of the fifth day, thanks to prodigious self-control, we had used +up only one of our two water skins. Then we believed ourselves safe.</p> + +<p>Near one of these muddy puddles, I succeeded that day in shooting down +a little straight-horned desert gazelle. Tanit-Zerga skinned the beast +and we regaled ourselves with a delicious haunch. Meantime, little +Galé, who never ceased prying about the cracks in the rocks during our +mid-day halts in the heat, discovered an <i>ourane</i>, a sand crocodile, +five feet long, and made short work of breaking his neck. She ate so +much she could not budge. It cost us a pint of water to help her +digestion. We gave it with good grace, for we were happy. Tanit-Zerga +did not say so, but her joy at knowing that I was thinking no more of +the woman in the gold diadem and the emeralds was apparent. And +really, during those days, I hardly thought of her. I thought only of +the torrid heat to be avoided, of the water skins which, if you wished +to drink fresh water, had to be left for an hour in a cleft in the +rocks; of the intense joy which seized you when you raised to your +lips a leather goblet brimming with that life-saving water.... I can +say this with authority, with good authority, indeed; passion, +spiritual or physical, is a thing for those who have eaten and drunk +and rested.</p> + +<p>It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The frightful heat was +slackening. We had left a kind of rocky crevice where we <!-- Page 180 -->had had a +little nap. Seated on a huge rock, we were watching the reddening +west.</p> + +<p>I spread out the roll of paper on which Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had marked +the stages of our journey as far as the road from the Soudan. I +realized again with joy that his itinerary was exact and that I had +followed it scrupulously.</p> + +<p>"The evening of the day after to-morrow," I said, "we shall be setting +out on the stage which will take us, by the next dawn, to the waters +at Telemsi. Once there, we shall not have to worry any more about +water."</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's eyes danced in her thin face.</p> + +<p>"And Gâo?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We will be only a week from the Niger. And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh said +that at Telemsi, one reached a road overhung with mimosa."</p> + +<p>"I know the mimosa," she said. "They are the little yellow balls that +melt in your hand. But I like the caper flowers better. You will come +with me to Gâo. My father, Sonni-Azkia, was killed, as I told you, by +the Awellimiden. But my people must have rebuilt the villages. They +are used to that. You will see how you will be received."</p> + +<p>"I will go, Tanit-Zerga, I promise you. But you also, you must promise +me...."</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, I guess. You must take me for a little fool if you believe +me capable of speaking of things which might make trouble for my +friend."</p> + +<p>She looked at me as she spoke. Privation and great fatigue had +chiselled the brown face where her great eyes shone.... Since then, I +have had time to assemble the maps and compasses, and to fix forever +the spot where, for the first time, I understood the beauty of +Tanit-Zerga's eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a deep silence between us. It was she who broke it.</p> + +<p>"Night is coming. We must eat so as to leave as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>She stood up and went toward the rocks.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately, I heard her calling in an anguished voice that +sent a chill through me.</p> + +<p>"Come! Oh, come see!"</p> + +<p>With a bound, I was at her side.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 181 -->The camel," she murmured. "The camel!"</p> + +<p>I looked, and a deadly shudder seized me.</p> + +<p>Stretched out at full length, on the other side of the rocks, his pale +flanks knotted up by convulsive spasms, <i>El Mellen</i> lay in anguish.</p> + +<p>I need not say that we rushed to him in feverish haste. Of what <i>El +Mellen</i> was dying, I did not know, I never have known. All the mehara +are that way. They are at once the most enduring and the most delicate +of beasts. They will travel for six months across the most frightful +deserts, with little food, without water, and seem only the better for +it. Then, one day when nothing is the matter, they stretch out and +give you the slip with disconcerting ease.</p> + +<p>When Tanit-Zerga and I saw that there was nothing more to do, we stood +there without a word, watching his slackening spasms. When he breathed +his last, we felt that our life, as well as his, had gone.</p> + +<p>It was Tanit-Zerga who spoke first.</p> + +<p>"How far are we from the Soudan road?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We are a hundred and twenty miles from the springs of Telemsi," I +replied. "We could make thirty miles by going toward Iferouane; but +the wells are not marked on that route."</p> + +<p>"Then we must walk toward the springs of Telemsi," she said. "A +hundred and twenty miles, that makes seven days?"</p> + +<p>"Seven days at the least, Tanit-Zerga."</p> + +<p>"How far is it to the first well?"</p> + +<p>"Thirty-five miles."</p> + +<p>The little girl's face contracted somewhat. But she braced up quickly.</p> + +<p>"We must set out at once."</p> + +<p>"Set out on foot, Tanit-Zerga!"</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot. I marveled to see her so strong.</p> + +<p>"We must go," she repeated. "We are going to eat and drink and make +Galé eat and drink, for we cannot carry all the tins, and the water +skin is so heavy that we should not get three miles if we tried to +carry it. We will put a little water in one of the tins after emptying +it through a little hole. That will be enough for to-night's stage, +which will be eighteen miles without water. To-morrow we will set out +for <!-- Page 182 -->another eighteen miles and we will reach the wells marked on the +paper by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"Oh," I murmured sadly, "if my shoulder were only not this way, I +could carry the water skin."</p> + +<p>"It is as it is," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"You will take your carbine and two tins of meat. I shall take two +more and the one filled with water. Come. We must leave in an hour if +we wish to cover the eighteen miles. You know that when the sun is up, +the rocks are so hot we cannot walk."</p> + +<p>I leave you to imagine in what sad silence we passed that hour which +we had begun so happily and confidently. Without the little girl, I +believe I should have seated myself upon a rock and waited. Galé only +was happy.</p> + +<p>"We must not let her eat too much," said Tanit-Zerga. "She would not +be able to follow us. And to-morrow she must work. If she catches +another <i>ourane</i>, it will be for us." +<br /></p> + +<p>You have walked in the desert. You know how terrible the first hours +of the night are. When the moon comes up, huge and yellow, a sharp +dust seems to rise in suffocating clouds. You move your jaws +mechanically as if to crush the dust that finds its way into your +throat like fire. Then usually a kind of lassitude, of drowsiness, +follows. You walk without thinking. You forget where you are walking. +You remember only when you stumble. Of course you stumble often. But +anyway it is bearable. "The night is ending," you say, "and with it +the march. All in all, I am less tired than at the beginning." The +night ends, but then comes the most terrible hour of all. You are +perishing of thirst and shaking with cold. All the fatigue comes back +at once. The horrible breeze which precedes the dawn is no comfort. +Quite the contrary. Every time you stumble, you say, "The next misstep +will be the last."</p> + +<p>That is what people feel and say even when they know that in a few +hours they will have a good rest with food and water.</p> + +<p>I was suffering terribly. Every step jolted my poor shoulder. At one +time, I wanted to stop, to sit down. Then I looked at Tanit-Zerga. She +was walking ahead with her eyes almost <!-- Page 183 -->closed. Her expression was an +indefinable one of mingled suffering and determination. I closed my +own eyes and went on.</p> + +<p>Such was the first stage. At dawn we stopped in a hollow in the rocks. +Soon the heat forced us to rise to seek a deeper one. Tanit-Zerga did +not eat. Instead, she swallowed a little of her half can of water. She +lay drowsy all day. Galé ran about our rock giving plaintive little +cries.</p> + +<p>I am not going to tell you about the second march. It was more +horrible than anything you can imagine. I suffered all that it is +humanly possible to suffer in the desert. But already I began to +observe with infinite pity that my man's strength was outlasting the +nervous force of my little companion. The poor child walked on without +saying a word, chewing feebly one corner of her <i>haik</i> which she had +drawn over her face. Galé followed.</p> + +<p>The well toward which we were dragging ourselves was indicated on +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's paper by the one word <i>Tissaririn. Tissaririn</i> is +the plural of <i>Tissarirt</i> and means "two isolated trees."</p> + +<p>Day was dawning when finally I saw the two trees, two gum trees. +Hardly a league separated us from them. I gave a cry of joy.</p> + +<p>"Courage, Tanit-Zerga, there is the well."</p> + +<p>She drew her veil aside and I saw the poor anguished little face.</p> + +<p>"So much the better," she murmured, "because otherwise...."</p> + +<p>She could not even finish the sentence.</p> + +<p>We finished the last half mile almost at a run. We already saw the +hole, the opening of the well.</p> + +<p>Finally we reached it.</p> + +<p>It was empty.</p> + +<p>It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the +suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become +partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to +you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history +composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign +of Marengo." Obstin<!-- Page 184 -->ately I repeated to myself, "I have already said +that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's +charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only +twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces."</p> + +<p>I kept on repeating:</p> + +<p>"Twelve pieces."</p> + +<p>Then I fell into a sort of coma.</p> + +<p>I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I +opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which +burnt so.</p> + +<p>"Get up," she said. "We must go on."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. +It is noon."</p> + +<p>"We must go on," she repeated.</p> + +<p>Then I saw that she was delirious.</p> + +<p>She was standing erect. Her <i>haik</i> had fallen to the ground and little +Galé, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it.</p> + +<p>Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating:</p> + +<p>"We must go on."</p> + +<p>A little sense came back to me.</p> + +<p>"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head."</p> + +<p>"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gâo is over there, not far away. I +can feel it. I want to see Gâo again."</p> + +<p>I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that +all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me, +brought back my senses.</p> + +<p>"Gâo is just over there, isn't it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Her gleaming eyes became imploring.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear little girl. Gâo is there. But for God's sake lie down. The +sun is fearful."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gâo, Gâo!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gâo +again."</p> + +<p>She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine.</p> + +<p>"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see +Gâo again."</p> + +<p>"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet."</p> + +<p>"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where +there is water, at Gâo, where my father was a prince, there was.... +Well, one day, one feast day, there <!-- Page 185 -->came from the interior of the +country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask +and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag. +On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he +danced the <i>boussadilla</i>. I was in the first row, and because I had a +necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of +a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire +over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce +Kountas, of everything, and finally he said:</p> + +<p>"'Have no fear, little girl.'</p> + +<p>"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for +you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gâo gleaming +on the horizon, no longer a servile Gâo reduced to the rank of a +little Negro town, but the splendid Gâo of other days, the great +capital of the country of the blacks, Gâo reborn, with its mosque of +seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with +cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with +great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of +deliverance and of royalty.'"</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun +blazed on the <i>hamada</i>, burning it white.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry.</p> + +<p>"Gâo! There is Gâo!"</p> + +<p>I looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Gâo," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the +fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red +and white flowers. Gâo...."</p> + +<p>Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty +buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow. +Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly +before us.</p> + +<p>"Gâo!" I cried. "Gâo!"</p> + +<p>And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror. +Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch +the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 186 -->And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance +and of royalty."</p> + +<p>Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the +desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where +Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she +was to rest.</p> + +<p>When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear +little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew +the <i>haik</i> over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the +hollow.</p> + +<p>I had reckoned without Galé.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I +was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall +on the <i>haik</i>, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready +to spring, her eyes daring fire.</p> + +<p>"Galé!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her.</p> + +<p>She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig, +throwing the sand furiously aside.</p> + +<p>I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never +finish my task and that, even if I did, Galé would stay there and +disinter the body.</p> + +<p>My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty +desert. A moment later, Galé also slept her last sleep, curled up, as +I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress.</p> + +<p>When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled +sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert, +toward the south.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XX"><!-- Chapter 20--></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>At the foot of the valley of the Mia, at the place where the jackal +had cried the night Saint-Avit told me he had killed Morhange, another +jackal, or perhaps the same one, howled again.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 187 -->Immediately I had a feeling that this night would see the +irremediable fulfilled.</p> + +<p>We were seated that evening, as before, on the poor veranda improvised +outside our dining-room. The floor was of plaster, the balustrade of +twisted branches; four posts supported a thatched roof.</p> + +<p>I have already said that from the veranda one could look far out over +the desert. As he finished speaking, Saint-Avit rose and stood leaning +his elbows on the railing. I followed him.</p> + +<p>"And then...." I said.</p> + +<p>He looked at me.</p> + +<p>"And then what? Surely you know what all the newspapers told—how, in +the country of the Awellimiden, I was found dying of hunger and thirst +by an expedition under the command of Captain Aymard, and taken to +Timbuctoo. I was delirious for a month afterward. I have never known +what I may have said during those spells of burning fever. You may be +sure the officers of the Timbuctoo Club did not feel it incumbent upon +them to tell me. When I told them of my adventures, as they are +related in the report of the Morhange—Saint-Avit Expedition, I could +see well enough from the cold politeness with which they received my +explanations, that the official version which I gave them differed at +certain points from the fragments which had escaped me in my delirium.</p> + +<p>"They did not press the matter. It remains understood that Captain +Morhange died from a sunstroke and that I buried him on the border of +the Tarhit watercourse, three marches from Timissao. Everybody can +detect that there are things missing in my story. Doubtless they guess +at some mysterious drama. But proofs are another matter. Because of +the impossibility of collecting them, they prefer to smother what +could only become a silly scandal. But now you know all the details as +well as I."</p> + +<p>"And—she?" I asked timidly.</p> + +<p>He smiled triumphantly. It was triumph at having led me to think no +longer of Morhange, or of his crime, the triumph of feeling that he +had succeeded in imbuing me with his own madness.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 188 -->Yes," he said. "She! For six years I have learned nothing more about +her. But I see her, I talk with her. I am thinking now how I shall +reenter her presence. I shall throw myself at her feet and say simply, +'Forgive me. I rebelled against your law. I did not know. But now I +know; and you see that, like Lieutenant Ghiberti, I have come back.'</p> + +<p>"'Family, honor, country,' said old Le Mesge, 'you will forget all for +her.' Old Le Mesge is a stupid man, but he speaks from experience. He +knows, he who has seen broken before Antinea the wills of the fifty +ghosts in the red marble hall.</p> + +<p>"And now, will you, in your turn, ask me 'What is this woman?' Do I +know myself? And besides, what difference does it make? What does her +past and the mystery of her origin matter to me; what does it matter +whether she is the true descendant of the god of the sea and the +sublime Lagides or the bastard of a Polish drunkard and a harlot of +the Marbeuf quarter?</p> + +<p>"At the time when I was foolish enough to be jealous of Morhange, +these questions might have made some difference to the ridiculous +self-esteem that civilized people mix up with passion. But I have held +Antinea's body in my arms. I no longer wish to know any other, nor if +the fields are in blossom, nor what will become of the human +spirit....</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to know. Or, rather, it is because I have too exact a +vision of that future, that I pretend to destroy myself in the only +destiny that is worth while: a nature unfathomed and virgin, a +mysterious love.</p> + +<p>"<i>A nature unfathomed and virgin</i>. I must explain myself. One winter +day, in a large city all streaked with the soot that falls from black +chimneys of factories and of those horrible houses in the suburbs, I +attended a funeral.</p> + +<p>"We followed the hearse in the mud. The church was new, damp and poor. +Aside from two or three people, relatives struck down by a dull +sorrow, everyone had just one idea: to find some pretext to get away. +Those who went as far as the cemetery were those who did not find an +excuse. I see the gray walls and the cypresses, those trees of sun and +shade, so beautiful in the country of southern France against the low +purple hills. I see the horrible undertaker's <!-- Page 189 -->men in greasy jackets +and shiny top hats. I see.... No, I'll stop; it's too horrible.</p> + +<p>"Near the wall, in a remote plot, a grave had been dug in frightful +yellow pebbly clay. It was there that they left the dead man whose +name I no longer remember.</p> + +<p>"While they were lowering the casket, I looked at my hands, those +hands which in that strangely lighted country had pressed the hands of +Antinea. A great pity for my body seized me, a great fear of what +threatened it in these cities of mud. 'So,' I said to myself, 'it may +be that this body, this dear body, will come to such an end! No, no, +my body, precious above all other treasures, I swear to you that I +will spare you that ignominy; you shall not rot under a registered +number in the filth of a suburban cemetery. Your brothers in love, the +fifty knights of orichalch, await you, mute and grave, in the red +marble hall. I shall take you back to them.'</p> + +<p>"A <i>mysterious love</i>. Shame to him who retails the secrets of his +loves. The Sahara lays its impassable barrier about Antinea; that is +why the most unreasonable requirements of this woman are, in reality, +more modest and chaste than your marriage will be, with its vulgar +public show, the bans, the invitations, the announcements telling an +evil-minded and joking people that after such and such an hour, on +such and such a day, you will have the right to violate your little +tupenny virgin.</p> + +<p>"I think that is all I have to tell you. No, there is still one thing +more. I told you a while ago about the red marble hall. South of +Cherchell, to the west of the Mazafran river, on a hill which in the +early morning, emerges from the mists of the Mitidja, there is a +mysterious stone pyramid. The natives call it, 'The Tomb of the +Christian.' That is where the body of Antinea's ancestress, that +Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, was laid to +rest. Though it is placed in the path of invasions, this tomb has kept +its treasure. No one has ever been able to discover the painted room +where the beautiful body reposes in a glass casket. All that the +ancestress has been able to do, the descendant will be able to surpass +in grim magnificence. In the center of the red marble hall, on the +rock whence comes the plaint of the <!-- Page 190 -->gloomy fountain, a platform is +reserved. It is there, on an orichalch throne, with the Egyptian +head-dress and the golden serpent on her brow and the trident of +Neptune in her hand, that the marvelous woman I have told you about +will be ensconced on that day when the hundred and twenty niches, +hollowed out in a circle around her throne, shall each have received +its willing prey.</p> + +<p>"When I left Ahaggar, you remember that it was niche number 55 that +was to be mine. Since then, I have never stopped calculating and I +conclude that it is in number 80 or 85 that I shall repose. But any +calculations based upon so fragile a foundation as a woman's whim may +be erroneous. That is why I am getting more and more nervous. 'I must +hurry,' I tell myself. 'I must hurry.'</p> + +<p>"I must hurry," I repeated, as if I were in a dream.</p> + +<p>He raised his head with an indefinable expression of joy. His hand +trembled with happiness when he shook mine.</p> + +<p>"You will see," he repeated excitedly, "you will see."</p> + +<p>Ecstatically, he took me in his arms and held me there a long moment.</p> + +<p>An extraordinary happiness swept over both of us, while, alternately +laughing and crying like children, we kept repeating:</p> + +<p>"We must hurry. We must hurry."</p> + +<p>Suddenly there sprang up a slight breeze that made the tufts of thatch +in the roof rustle. The sky, pale lilac, grew paler still, and, +suddenly, a great yellow rent tore it in the east. Dawn broke over the +empty desert. From within the stockade came dull noises, a bugle call, +the rattle of chains. The post was waking up.</p> + +<p>For several seconds we stood there silent, our eyes fixed on the +southern route by which one reaches Temassinin, Eguéré and Ahaggar.</p> + +<p>A rap on the dining-room door behind us made us start.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said André de Saint-Avit in a voice which had become +suddenly hard.</p> + +<p>The Quartermaster, Chatelain, stood before us.</p> + +<p>"What do you want of me at this hour?" Saint-Avit asked brusquely.</p> + +<p>The non-com stood at attention.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 191 -->Excuse me, Captain. But a native was discovered near the post, last +night, by the patrol. He was not trying to hide. As soon as he had +been brought here, he asked to be led before the commanding officer. +It was midnight and I didn't want to disturb you."</p> + +<p>"Who is this native?"</p> + +<p>"A Targa, Captain."</p> + +<p>"A Targa? Go get him."</p> + +<p>Chatelain stepped aside. Escorted by one of our native soldiers, the +man stood behind him.</p> + +<p>They came out on the terrace.</p> + +<p>The new arrival, six feet tall, was indeed a Targa. The light of dawn +fell upon his blue-black cotton robes. One could see his great dark +eyes flashing.</p> + +<p>When he was opposite my companion, I saw a tremor, immediately +suppressed, run through both men.</p> + +<p>They looked at each other for an instant in silence.</p> + +<p>Then, bowing, and in a very calm voice, the Targa spoke:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>In the same calm voice, André answered him:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2> Footnotes </h2> + +<div class="note"> +<a name="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1">[1]</a> +<p>This letter, together with the manuscript which +accompanies it, the latter in a separate sealed envelope, was +entrusted by Lieutenant Ferrières, of the 3rd Spahis, the day of the +departure of that officer for the Tassili of the Tuareg (Central +Sahara), to Sergeant Chatelain. The sergeant was instructed to deliver +it, on his next leave, to M. Leroux, Honorary Counsel at the Court of +Appeals at Riom, and Lieutenant Ferrières' nearest relative. As this +magistrate died suddenly before the expiration of the term of ten +years set for the publication of the manuscript here presented, +difficulties arose which have delayed its publication up to the +present date.</p></div> + +<div class="note"> +<a name="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2">[2]</a> +<p> H. Duveyrier, "The Disaster of the Flatters Mission." +Bull. Geol. Soc., 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3">[3]</a> +<p> Doctrina Ptolemaei ab injuria recentiorum vindicata, sive +Nilus Superior et Niger verus, hodiernus Eghiren, ab anitiquis +explorati. Paris, 8vo, 1874, with two maps. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4">[4]</a> +<p> De nomine et genere popularum qui berberi vulgo dicuntur. +Paris, 8vo, 1892. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5">[5]</a> +<p> Another name, in the Temahaq language, for Ahaggar. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6">[6]</a> +<p> The route and the stages from Tit to Timissao were +actually plotted out, as early as 1888, by Captain Bissuel. <i>Les +Tuarge de l'Ouest,</i> itineraries 1 and 10. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7">[7]</a> +<p> It is perhaps worth noting here that <i>Figures de Proues</i> +is the exact title of a very remarkable collection of poems by Mme. +Delarus-Mardrus. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8">[8]</a> +<p> The Negro serfs among the Tuareg are generally called +"white Tuareg." While the nobles are clad in blue cotton robes, the +serfs wear white robes, hence their name of "white Tuareg." See, in +this connection, Duveyrier: <i>les Tuareg du Nord</i>, page 292. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_J_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_9">[9]</a> +<p> <i>Tirer à cinq</i>, a card game played only for very high stakes.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_K_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_10">[10]</a> +<p> How did the <i>Voyage to Atlantis</i> arrive at Dax? I have +found, so far, only one credible hypothesis: it might have been +discovered in Africa by the traveller, de Behagle, a member of the +Roger-Ducos Society, who studied at the college of Dax, and later, on +several occasions, visited the town. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_L_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_11">[11]</a> +<p> Variot: <i>L'anthropologie galvanique</i>. Paris, 1890. (Note +by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_M_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_12">[12]</a> +<p> In Berber, Tanit means a spring; zerga is the feminine of +the adjective azreg, blue. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_N_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_13">[13]</a> +<p> Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant—a mixture of +Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_P_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_14">[14]</a> +<p> I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the +Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who +accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count +Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_Q_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_15">[15]</a> +<p> The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_R_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_16">[16]</a> +<p> Cf. the records and the <i>Bulletin de la Société de +Géographie de Paris</i> (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the +<i>Commandant</i> of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants +Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note +by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_S_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_17">[17]</a> +<p> Gabrielle d'Annunzio: <i>Les Vierges aux Rochers</i>. Cf. The +<i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> of October 15, 1896; page 867.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14301 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14301-h/images/illus004.gif b/14301-h/images/illus004.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4761bb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/illus004.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/illus050.gif b/14301-h/images/illus050.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b9817a --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/illus050.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr136_1.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr136_1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3384e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr136_1.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr136_2.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr136_2.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a1b401 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr136_2.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_1.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f0ec8a --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_1.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_10.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_10.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c60209 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_10.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_2.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_2.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd50e26 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_2.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_3.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_3.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b93d738 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_3.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_4.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_4.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f719989 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_4.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_5.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_5.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5013d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_5.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_6.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_6.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..50973b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_6.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_7.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_7.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f786aa2 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_7.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_8.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_8.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfc067b --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_8.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr59_9.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_9.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2935327 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr59_9.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr91_1.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..774e737 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_1.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr91_2.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_2.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dca0459 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_2.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr91_3.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_3.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db039a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_3.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/tfnr91_4.gif b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_4.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdf14c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/tfnr91_4.gif diff --git a/14301-h/images/title.gif b/14301-h/images/title.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..188b322 --- /dev/null +++ b/14301-h/images/title.gif diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a5a10eb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14301 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14301) diff --git a/old/14301-8.txt b/old/14301-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3718426 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14301-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9168 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Atlantida + +Author: Pierre Benoit + +Release Date: December 8, 2004 [EBook #14301] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + + + + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + + "First, I must warn you, +before beginning this work, +not to be surprised to hear +me calling barbarians by +Grecian names." + --PLATO + _Critias_ + + ATLANTIDA + + _Pierre Benoit_ + + Translated by Mary C. Tongue and Mary Ross + + ACE BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036 + + + To André Suarès + + +[Illustration] + + + + +HASSI-INIFEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1903. + + +If the following pages are ever to see the light of day it will be +because they have been stolen from me. The delay that I exact before +they shall be disclosed assures me of that.[1] + +[Footnote 1: This letter, together with the manuscript which +accompanies it, the latter in a separate sealed envelope, was +entrusted by Lieutenant Ferrières, of the 3rd Spahis, the day of the +departure of that officer for the Tassili of the Tuareg (Central +Sahara), to Sergeant Chatelain. The sergeant was instructed to deliver +it, on his next leave, to M. Leroux, Honorary Counsel at the Court of +Appeals at Riom, and Lieutenant Ferrières' nearest relative. As this +magistrate died suddenly before the expiration of the term of ten +years set for the publication of the manuscript here presented, +difficulties arose which have delayed its publication up to the +present date.] + +As to this disclosure, let no one distrust my aim when I prepare for +it, when I insist upon it. You may believe me when I maintain that no +pride of authorship binds me to these pages. Already I am too far +removed from all such things. Only it is useless that others should +enter upon the path from which I shall not return. + +Four o'clock in the morning. Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with +its pink fire. All about me the bordj is asleep. Through the half-open +door of his room I hear André de Saint-Avit breathing quietly, very +quietly. + +In two days we shall start, he and I. We shall leave the bordj. We +shall penetrate far down there to the South. The official orders came +this morning. + +Now, even if I wished to withdraw, it is too late. André and I asked +for this mission. The authorization that I sought, together with him, +has at this moment become an order. The hierarchic channels cleared, +the pressure brought to bear at the Ministry;--and then to be afraid, +to recoil before this adventure!... + +To be afraid, I said. I know that I am not afraid! One night in the +Gurara, when I found two of my sentinels slaughtered, with the +shameful cross cut of the Berbers slashed across their stomachs--then +I was afraid. I know what fear is. Just so now, when I gazed into the +black depths, whence suddenly all at once the great red sun will rise, +I know that it is not with fear that I tremble. I feel surging within +me the sacred horror of this mystery, and its irresistible attraction. + +Delirious dreams, perhaps. The mad imaginings of a brain surcharged, +and an eye distraught by mirages. The day will come, doubtless, when I +shall reread these pages with an indulgent smile, as a man of fifty is +accustomed to smile when he rereads old letters. + +Delirious dreams. Mad imaginings. But these dreams, these imaginings, +are dear to me. "Captain de Saint-Avit and Lieutenant Ferrières," +reads the official dispatch, "will proceed to Tassili to determine the +statigraphic relation of Albien sandstone and carboniferous limestone. +They will, in addition, profit by any opportunities of determining the +possible change of attitude of the Axdjers towards our penetration, +etc." If the journey should indeed have to do only with such poor +things I think that I should never undertake it. + +So I am longing for what I dread. I shall be dejected if I do not +find myself in the presence of what makes me strangely fearful. + +In the depths of the valley of Wadi Mia a jackal is barking. Now and +again, when a beam of moonlight breaks in a silver patch through the +hollows of the heat-swollen clouds, making him think he sees the young +sun, a turtle dove moans among the palm trees. + +I hear a step outside. I lean out of the window. A shade clad in +luminous black stuff glides over the hard-packed earth of the terrace +of the fortification. A light shines in the electric blackness. A man +has just lighted a cigarette. He crouches, facing southwards. He is +smoking. + +It is Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, our Targa guide, the man who in three days +is to lead us across the unknown plateaus of the mysterious +Imoschaoch, across the hamadas of black stones, the great dried oases, +the stretches of silver salt, the tawny hillocks, the flat gold dunes +that are crested over, when the "alizé" blows, with a shimmering haze +of pale sand. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! He is the man. There recurs to my mind Duveyrier's +tragic phrase, "At the very moment the Colonel was putting his foot in +the stirrup he was felled by a sabre blow."[2] Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! +There he is, peacefully smoking his cigarette, a cigarette from the +package that I gave him.... May the Lord forgive me for it. + +[Footnote 2: H. Duveyrier, "The Disaster of the Flatters Mission." +Bull. Geol. Soc., 1881.] + +The lamp casts a yellow light on the paper. Strange fate, which, I +never knew exactly why, decided one day when I was a lad of sixteen +that I should prepare myself for Saint Cyr, and gave me there André de +Saint-Avit as classmate. I might have studied law or medicine. Then I +should be today a respectable inhabitant of a town with a church and +running water, instead of this cotton-clad phantom, brooding with an +unspeakable anxiety over this desert which is about to swallow me. + +A great insect has flown in through the window. It buzzes, strikes +against the rough cast, rebounds against the globe of the lamp, and +then, helpless, its wings singed by the still burning candle, drops on +the white paper. + +It is an African May bug, big, black, with spots of livid gray. + +I think of others, its brothers in France, the golden-brown May bugs, +which I have seen on stormy summer evenings projecting themselves like +little particles of the soil of my native countryside. It was there +that as a child I spent my vacations, and later on, my leaves. On my +last leave, through those same meadows, there wandered beside me a +slight form, wearing a thin scarf, because of the evening air, so cool +back there. But now this memory stirs me so slightly that I scarcely +raise my eyes to that dark corner of my room where the light is dimly +reflected by the glass of an indistinct portrait. I realize of how +little consequence has become what had seemed at one time capable of +filling all my life. This plaintive mystery is of no more interest to +me. If the strolling singers of Rolla came to murmur their famous +nostalgic airs under the window of this bordj I know that I should not +listen to them, and if they became insistent I should send them on +their way. + +What has been capable of causing this metamorphosis in me? A story, a +legend, perhaps, told, at any rate by one on whom rests the direst of +suspicions. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has finished his cigarette. I hear him returning +with slow steps to his mat, in barrack B, to the left of the guard +post. + +Our departure being scheduled for the tenth of November, the +manuscript attached to this letter was begun on Sunday, the first, and +finished on Thursday, the fifth of November, 1903. + +OLIVIER FERRIÈRES, Lt. 3rd Spahis. + + + + +I + +A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT + + +Sunday, the sixth of June, 1903, broke the monotony of the life that +we were leading at the Post of Hassi-Inifel by two events of unequal +importance, the arrival of a letter from Mlle. de C----, and the +latest numbers of the Official Journal of the French Republic. + +"I have the Lieutenant's permission?" said Sergeant Chatelain, +beginning to glance through the magazines he had just removed from +their wrappings. + +I acquiesced with a nod, already completely absorbed in reading Mlle. +de C----'s letter. + +"When this reaches you," was the gist of this charming being's letter, +"mama and I will doubtless have left Paris for the country. If, in +your distant parts, it might be a consolation to imagine me as bored +here as you possibly can be, make the most of it. The Grand Prix is +over. I played the horse you pointed out to me, and naturally, I lost. +Last night we dined with the Martials de la Touche. Elias Chatrian was +there, always amazingly young. I am sending you his last book, which +has made quite a sensation. It seems that the Martials de la Touche +are depicted there without disguise. I will add to it Bourget's last, +and Loti's, and France's, and two or three of the latest music hall +hits. In the political word, they say the law about congregations will +meet with strenuous opposition. Nothing much in the theatres. I have +taken out a summer subscription for _l'Illustration_. Would you care +for it? In the country no one knows what to do. Always the same lot of +idiots ready for tennis. I shall deserve no credit for writing to you +often. Spare me your reflections concerning young Combemale. I am less +than nothing of a feminist, having too much faith in those who tell me +that I am pretty, in yourself in particular. But indeed, I grow wild +at the idea that if I permitted myself half the familiarities with one +of our lads that you have surely with your Ouled-Nails.... Enough of +that, it is too unpleasant an idea." + +I had reached this point in the prose of this advanced young woman +when a scandalized exclamation of the Sergeant made me look up. + +"Lieutenant!" + +"Yes?" + +"They are up to something at the Ministry. See for yourself." + +He handed me the Official. I read: + +"By a decision of the first of May, 1903, Captain de Saint-Avit +(André), unattached, is assigned to the Third Spahis, and appointed +Commandant of the Post of Hassi-Inifel." + +Chatelain's displeasure became fairly exuberant. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit, Commandant of the Post. A post which has never +had a slur upon it. They must take us for a dumping ground." + +My surprise was as great as the Sergeant's. But just then I saw the +evil, weasel-like face of Gourrut, the convict we used as clerk. He +had stopped his scrawling and was listening with a sly interest. + +"Sergeant, Captain de Saint-Avit is my ranking classmate," I answered +dryly. + +Chatelain saluted, and left the room. I followed. + +"There, there," I said, clapping him on the back, "no hard feelings. +Remember that in an hour we are starting for the oasis. Have the +cartridges ready. It is of the utmost importance to restock the +larder." + +I went back to the office and motioned Gourrut to go. Left alone, I +finished Mlle. de C----'s letter very quickly, and then reread the +decision of the Ministry giving the post a new chief. + +It was now five months that I had enjoyed that distinction, and on my +word, I had accepted the responsibility well enough, and been very +well pleased with the independence. I can even affirm, without taking +too much credit for myself, that under my command discipline had been +better maintained than under Captain Dieulivol, Saint-Avit's +predecessor. A brave man, this Captain Dieulivol, a non-commissioned +officer under Dodds and Duchesne, but subject to a terrible propensity +for strong liquors, and too much inclined, when he had drunk, to +confuse his dialects, and to talk to a Houassa in Sakalave. No one was +ever more sparing of the post water supply. One morning when he was +preparing his absinthe in the presence of the Sergeant, Chatelain, +noticing the Captain's glass, saw with amazement that the green liquor +was blanched by a far stronger admixture of water than usual. He +looked up, aware that something abnormal had just occurred. Rigid, the +carafe inverted in his hand, Captain Dieulivol was spilling the water +which was running over on the sugar. He was dead. + +For six months, since the disappearance of this sympathetic old +tippler, the Powers had not seemed to interest themselves in finding +his successor. I had even hoped at times that a decision might be +reached investing me with the rights that I was in fact exercising.... +And today this surprising appointment. + +Captain de Saint-Avit. He was of my class at St. Cyr. I had lost track +of him. Then my attention had been attracted to him by his rapid +advancement, his decoration, the well-deserved recognition of three +particularly daring expeditions of exploration to Tebesti and the Air; +and suddenly, the mysterious drama of his fourth expedition, that +famous mission undertaken with Captain Morhange, from which only one +of the explorers came back. Everything is forgotten quickly in France. +That was at least six years ago. I had not heard Saint-Avit mentioned +since. I had even supposed that he had left the army. And now, I was +to have him as my chief. + +"After all, what's the difference," I mused, "he or another! At school +he was charming, and we have had only the most pleasant relationships. +Besides, I haven't enough yearly income to afford the rank of +Captain." + +And I left the office, whistling as I went. + + * * * * * + +We were now, Chatelain and I, our guns resting on the already cooling +earth, beside the pool that forms the center of the meager oasis, +hidden behind a kind of hedge of alfa. The setting sun was reddening +the stagnant ditches which irrigate the poor garden plots of the +sedentary blacks. + +Not a word during the approach. Not a word during the shoot. Chatelain +was obviously sulking. + +In silence we knocked down, one after the other, several of the +miserable doves which came on dragging wings, heavy with the heat of +the day, to quench their thirst at the thick green water. When a +half-dozen slaughtered little bodies were lined up at our feet I put +my hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. + +"Chatelain!" + +He trembled. + +"Chatelain, I was rude to you a little while ago. Don't be angry. It +was the bad time before the siesta. The bad time of midday." + +"The Lieutenant is master here," he answered in a tone that was meant +to be gruff, but which was only strained. + +"Chatelain, don't be angry. You have something to say to me. You know +what I mean." + +"I don't know really. No, I don't know." + +"Chatelain, Chatelain, why not be sensible? Tell me something about +Captain de Saint-Avit." + +"I know nothing." He spoke sharply. + +"Nothing? Then what were you saying a little while ago?" + +"Captain de Saint-Avit is a brave man." He muttered the words with his +head still obstinately bent. "He went alone to Bilma, to the Air, +quite alone to those places where no one had ever been. He is a brave +man." + +"He is a brave man, undoubtedly," I answered with great restraint. +"But he murdered his companion, Captain Morhange, did he not?" + +The old Sergeant trembled. + +"He is a brave man," he persisted. + +"Chatelain, you are a child. Are you afraid that I am going to repeat +what you say to your new Captain?" + +I had touched him to the quick. He drew himself up. + +"Sergeant Chatelain is afraid of no one, Lieutenant. He has been at +Abomey, against the Amazons, in a country where a black arm started +out from every bush to seize your leg, while another cut it off for +you with one blow of a cutlass." + +"Then what they say, what you yourself--" + +"That is talk." + +"Talk which is repeated in France, Chatelain, everywhere." + +He bent his head still lower without replying. + +"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?" + +"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know, +or nothing--" + +"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I +give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you +except on official business." + +Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans--myself, the +Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its +effect. + +"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But +afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a +superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I +overheard at mess." + +"Tell away." + +"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th +Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the +Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth. +The marketing, the accounts, recording the library books which were +borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,--for +with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined +at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon +as he was seated, called for silence: + +"'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I +shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the +_City of Naples_ lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit, +recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.' + +"The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to +be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed +ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an +officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and +invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He +pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of +the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit +meant--one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs. + +"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that +perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard. + +"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen, +and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and +the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to +hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an +officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a +comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is +the matter on which I ask your advice.' + +"There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them +suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants. +In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried +not to make the least sound that might recall my presence. + +"'We thank you, Colonel,' one of the majors finally replied, 'for your +courtesy in consulting us. All my comrades, I imagine, know to what +terrible rumors you refer. If I may venture to say so, in Paris at the +Army Geographical Service, where I was before coming here, most of the +officers of the highest standing had an opinion on this unfortunate +matter which they avoided stating, but which cast no glory upon +Captain de Saint-Avit.' + +"'I was at Bammako, at the time of the Morhange-Saint-Avit mission,' +said a Captain. 'The opinion of the officers there, I am sorry to say, +differed very little from what the Major describes. But I must add +that they all admitted that they had nothing but suspicions to go on. +And suspicions are certainly not enough considering the atrocity of +the affair.' + +"'They are quite enough, gentlemen,' replied the Colonel, 'to account +for our hesitation. It is not a question of passing judgment; but no +man can sit at our table as a matter of right. It is a privilege based +on fraternal esteem. The only question is whether it is your decision +to accord it to Saint-Avit.' + +"So saying, he looked at the officers, as if he were taking a roll +call. One after another they shook their heads. + +"'I see that we agree,' he said. 'But our task is unfortunately not +yet over. The _City of Naples_ will be in port tomorrow morning. The +launch which meets the passengers leaves at eight o'clock. It will be +necessary, gentlemen, for one of you to go aboard. Captain de +Saint-Avit might be expecting to come to us. We certainly have no +intention of inflicting upon him the humiliation of refusing him, if +he presented himself in expectation of the customary reception. He +must be prevented from coming. It will be wisest to make him +understand that it is best for him to stay aboard.' + +"The Colonel looked at the officers again. They could not but agree. +But how uncomfortable each one looked! + +"'I cannot hope to find a volunteer among you for this kind of +mission, so I am compelled to appoint some one. Captain Grandjean, +Captain de Saint-Avit is also a Captain. It is fitting that it be an +officer of his own rank who carries him our message. Besides, you are +the latest comer here. Therefore it is to you that I entrust this +painful interview. I do not need to suggest that you conduct it as +diplomatically as possible.' + +"Captain Grandjean bowed, while a sigh of relief escaped from all the +others. As long as the Colonel stayed in the room Grandjean remained +apart, without speaking. It was only after the chief had departed that +he let fall the words: "'There are some things that ought to count a +good deal for promotion.' + +"The next day at luncheon everyone was impatient for his return. + +"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly. + +"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table +where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious +for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to +melt, a full glass of absinthe. + +"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel. + +"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on +shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!' + +"The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their +anxious curiosity. + +"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water. + +"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I +went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in +the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I +could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to +go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench +and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented +myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed +somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed +something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near +the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say? +How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows +on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then, +of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at +me coolly and said: + +"'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much +trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no +intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having +made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you +must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by +the vessel.' + +"Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the +cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that we had mutual +acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant +look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't +know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of +the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion. +Such a man, capable of such a crime,--believe me, it is not possible. + +"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I +have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried +through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of +depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this +complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the +_City of Naples_, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a +league from shore. + +"She was still there in the evening when they assembled for dinner, +and it was not until a blast of the whistle, followed by curls of +smoke escaping from the red and black smokestack had announced the +departure of the vessel for Gabes, that conversation was resumed; and +even then, less gaily than usual. + +"After that, Lieutenant, at the Officers' Club at Sfax, they avoided +like the plague any subject which risked leading the conversation back +to Captain de Saint-Avit." + +Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the +desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we +had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once +more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds +were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked +the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so +that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze. + +"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj." + +Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me +reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the +time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to +break our desolate silence with a single word. + +The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which +surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but +already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had +disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the +sky. + +When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me. + +"I am going to the stables," he said. + +I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the +Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible +sadness weighed upon me. + +I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must +be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed, +their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes. + +"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station." + +The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams +of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered. + +A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His +back was toward me. He did not hear me enter. + +"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make +yourself completely at home." + +The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very +pale. + +"Lieutenant Ferrières, is it not?" + +He advanced, holding out his hand. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow." + +At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold. + +"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the +little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want +of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at +Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were +you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I +found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie. +We will change all that, I hope. At ease." + +"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while Chatelain +remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was +with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the +post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every +point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival--" + +"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant, +I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences +which attach to your office. He is not obliged to know that the +officer who abandons a post like Hassi-Inifel, if it is only for two +hours, risks not finding much left on his return. The Chaamba +brigands, my dear sir, love firearms, and for the sake of the sixty +muskets in your racks, I am sure they would not scruple to make an +officer, whose otherwise excellent record is well known to me, account +for his absence to a court-martial. Come with me, if you please. We +will finish the little inspection I began too rapidly a little while +ago." + +He was already on the stairs. I followed in his footsteps. Chatelain +closed the order of march. I heard him murmuring, in a tone which you +can imagine: + +"Well, we are in for it now!" + + + + +II + +CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT + + +A few days sufficed to convince us that Chatelain's fears as to our +official relations with the new chief were vain. Often I have thought +that by the severity he showed at our first encounter Saint-Avit +wished to create a formal barrier, to show us that he knew how to keep +his head high in spite of the weight of his heavy past. Certain it is +that the day after his arrival, he showed himself in a very different +light, even complimenting the Sergeant on the upkeep of the post and +the instruction of the men. To me he was charming. + +"We are of the same class, aren't we?" he said to me. "I don't have +to ask you to dispense with formalities, it is your right." + +Vain marks of confidence, alas! False witnesses to a freedom of +spirit, one in face of the other. What more accessible in appearance +than the immense Sahara, open to all those who are willing to be +engulfed by it? Yet what is more secret? After six months of +companionship, of communion of life such as only a Post in the South +offers, I ask myself if the most extraordinary of my adventures is not +to be leaving to-morrow, toward unsounded solitudes, with a man whose +real thoughts are as unknown to me as these same solitudes, for which +he has succeeded in making me long. + +The first surprise which was given me by this singular companion was +occasioned by the baggage that followed him. + +On his inopportune arrival, alone, from Wargla, he had trusted to the +Mehari he rode only what can be carried without harm by such a +delicate beast,--his arms, sabre and revolver, a heavy carbine, and a +very reduced pack. The rest did not arrive till fifteen days later, +with the convoy which supplied the post. + +Three cases of respectable dimensions were carried one after another +to the Captain's room, and the grimaces of the porters said enough as +to their weight. + +I discreetly left Saint-Avit to his unpacking and began opening the +mail which the convoy had sent me. + +He returned to the office a little later and glanced at the several +reviews which I had just recieved. + +"So," he said. "You take these." + +He skimmed through, as he spoke, the last number of the _Zeitschrift +der Gesellschaft fur Erdkunde in Berlin_. + +"Yes," I answered. "These gentlemen are kind enough to interest +themselves in my works on the geology of the Wadi Mia and the high +Igharghar." + +"That may be useful to me," he murmured, continuing to turn over the +leaves. + +"It's at your service." + +"Thanks. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you in exchange, except +Pliny, perhaps. And still--you know what he said of Igharghar, +according to King Juba. However, come help me put my traps in place +and you will see if anything appeals to you." + +I accepted without further urging. + +We commenced by unearthing various meteorological and astronomical +instruments--the thermometers of Baudin, Salleron, Fastre, an aneroid, +a Fortin barometer, chronometers, a sextant, an astronomical spyglass, +a compass glass.... In short, what Duveyrier calls the material that +is simplest and easiest to transport on a camel. + +As Saint-Avit handed them to me I arranged them on the only table in +the room. + +"Now," he announced to me, "there is nothing more but books. I will +pass them to you. Pile them up in a corner until I can have a +book-shelf made." + +For two hours altogether I helped him to heap up a real library. And +what a library! Such as never before a post in the South had seen. All +the texts consecrated, under whatever titles, by antiquity to the +regions of the Sahara were reunited between the four rough-cast walls +of that little room of the bordj. Herodotus and Pliny, naturally, and +likewise Strabo and Ptolemy, Pomponius Mela, and Ammien Marcellin. But +besides these names which reassured my ignorance a little, I perceived +those of Corippus, of Paul Orose, of Eratosthenes, of Photius, of +Diodorus of Sicily, of Solon, of Dion Cassius, of Isidor of Seville, +of Martin de Tyre, of Ethicus, of Athenée, the _Scriptores Historiae +Augustae_, the _Itinerarium Antonini Augusti_, the _Geographi Latini +Minores_ of Riese, the _Geographi Graeci Minores_ of Karl Muller.... +Since I have had the occasion to familiarize myself with Agatarchides +of Cos and Artemidorus of Ephesus, but I admit that in this instance +the presence of their dissertations in the saddle bags of a captain of +cavalry caused me some amazement. + +I mention further the _Descrittione dell' Africa_ by Leon l'African, +the _Arabian Histories_ of Ibn-Khaldoun, of Al-Iaquob, of El-Bekri, of +Ibn-Batoutah, of Mahommed El-Tounsi.... In the midst of this Babel, I +remember the names of only two volumes of contemporary French +scholars. There were also the laborious theses of Berlioux[3] and of +Schirmer.[4] + +[Footnote 3: Doctrina Ptolemaei ab injuria recentiorum vindicata, sive +Nilus Superior et Niger verus, hodiernus Eghiren, ab anitiquis +explorati. Paris, 8vo, 1874, with two maps. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +[Footnote 4: De nomine et genere popularum qui berberi vulgo dicuntur. +Paris, 8vo, 1892. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +While I proceeded to make piles of as similar dimensions as possible I +kept saying to myself: + +"To think that I have been believing all this time that in his mission +with Morhange, Saint-Avit was particularly concerned in scientific +observations. Either my memory deceives me strangely or he is riding a +horse of another color. What is sure is that there is nothing for me +in the midst of all this chaos." + +He must have read on my face the signs of too apparently expressed +surprise, for he said in a tone in which I divined a tinge of +defiance: + +"The choice of these books surprises you a bit?" + +"I can't say it surprises me," I replied, "since I don't know the +nature of the work for which you have collected them. In any case I +dare say, without fear of being contradicted, that never before has +officer of the Arabian Office possessed a library in which the +humanities were so, well represented." + +He smiled evasively, and that day we pursued the subject no further. + +Among Saint-Avit's books I had noticed a voluminous notebook secured +by a strong lock. Several times I surprised him in the act of making +notations in it. When for any reason he was called out of the room he +placed his album carefully in a small cabinet of white wood, provided +by the munificence of the Administration. When he was not writing and +the office did not require his presence, he had the mehari which he +had brought with him saddled, and a few minutes later, from the +terrace of the fortifications, I could see the double silhouette +disappearing with great strides behind a hummock of red earth on the +horizon. + +Each time these trips lasted longer. From each he returned in a kind +of exaltation which made me watch him with daily increasing +disquietude during meal hours, the only time we passed quite alone +together. + +"Well," I said to myself one day when his remarks had been more +lacking in sequence than usual, "it's no fun being aboard a submarine +when the captain takes opium. What drug can this fellow be taking, +anyway?" + +Next day I looked hurriedly through my comrade's drawers. This +inspection, which I believed to be my duty, reassured me momentarily. +"All very good," I thought, "provided he does not carry with him his +capsules and his Pravaz syringe." + +I was still in that stage where I could suppose that André's +imagination needed artificial stimulants. + +Meticulous observation undeceived me. There was nothing suspicious in +this respect. Moreover, he rarely drank and almost never smoked. + +And nevertheless, there was no means of denying the increase of his +disquieting feverishness. He returned from his expeditions each time +with his eyes more brilliant. He was paler, more animated, more +irritable. + +One evening he left the post about six o'clock, at the end of the +greatest heat of the day. We waited for him all night. My anxiety was +all the stronger because quite recently caravans had brought tidings +of bands of robbers in the neighborhood of the post. + +At dawn he had not returned. He did not come before midday. His camel +collapsed under him, rather than knelt. + +He realized that he must excuse himself, but he waited till we were +alone at lunch. + +"I am so sorry to have caused you any anxiety. But the dunes were so +beautiful under the moon! I let myself be carried farther and +farther...." + +"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the +chief here. Only allow me to recall to you certain warnings concerning +the Chaamba brigands, and the misfortunes that might arise from a +Commandant of a post absenting himself too long." + +He smiled. + +"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply. + +He was in excellent, too excellent spirits. + +"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon +rose. And then, I recognized the country. It is just where, twenty +years ago next November, Flatters followed the way to his destiny in +an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made keener and +more intense." + +"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured. + +"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he +did ... even to dying of it." + +"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I +answered. "But they were alone when they exposed themselves to it. +Responsible only for their own lives, they were free. Flatters, on the +other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you cannot deny that +he allowed his whole party to be massacred." + +The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I +thought of Chatelain's story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where +they avoided like the plague any kind of conversation which might lead +their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit mission. + +Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant +eyes were far away. + +"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly. + +"Auxonne." + +He gave an unnatural laugh. + +"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand +inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's +wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every +Sunday,--the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon. +That explains your Judgment of Flatters. + +"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I +arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged +twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black +sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the _bagnards_ say in speaking of their +grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had +begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see +those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at +their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands +and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had +plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three +or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that +same evening for Berroughia. + +"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway +stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get +to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat. +When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage, +straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of +the outlying desert. + +"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road +embankment, overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume +of oleander, we changed horses. They had there a troop of convicts and +impressed laborers, under escort of riflemen and convoys to the +quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the jails of +Algiers and Douara,--without arms, of course; the others +civilians--such civilians! this year's recruits, the young bullies of +the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or. + +"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From +a distance I saw in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black +irregular mass of the convoy. Then I heard a weary dirge; the wretches +were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the couplet, +which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines: + +"'_Maintenant qu'elle est grande, + Elle fait le trottoir, + Avec ceux de la bande + A Richard-Lenoir_.' + +"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain: + +"'_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien + Nini Peau d'Chien; + Elle est si belle et si gentille + A la Bastille_' + +"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. +They were terrible. Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone +with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven faces. The burning dust +strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness +took possession of me. + +"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained +my self-control. + +"'Further, much further South,' I exclaimed to myself, 'to the places +untouched by this miserable bilgewater of civilization.' + +"When I am weary, when I have a moment of anguish and longing to turn +back on the road that I have chosen, I think of the prisoners of +Berroughia, and then I am glad to continue on my way. + +"But what a reward, when I am in one of those places where the poor +animals never think of fleeing because they have never seen man, where +the desert stretches out around me so widely that the old world could +crumble, and never a single ripple on the dune, a single cloud in the +white sky come to warn me. + +"'It is true,' I murmured. 'I, too, once, in the middle of the desert, +at Tidi-Kelt, I felt that way.'" + +Up to that time I had let him enjoy his exaltations without +interruption. I understood too late the error that I had made in +pronouncing that unfortunate sentence. + +His mocking nervous laughter began anew. + +"Ah! Indeed, at Tidi-Kelt? I beg you, old man, in your own interest, +if you don't want to make an ass of yourself, avoid that species of +reminiscence. Honestly, you make me think of Fromentin, or that poor +Maupassant, who talked of the desert because he had been to Djelfa, +two days' journey from the street of Bab-Azound and the Government +buildings, four days from the Avenue de l'Opera;--and who, because he +saw a poor devil of a camel dying near Bou-Saada, believed himself in +the heart of the desert, on the old route of the caravans.... +Tidi-Kelt, the desert!" + +"It seems to me, however, that In-Salah--" I said, a little vexed. + +"In-Salah? Tidi-Kelt! But, my poor friend, the last time that I passed +that way there were as many old newspapers and empty sardine boxes as +if it had been Sunday in the Wood of Vincennes." + +Such a determined, such an evident desire to annoy me made me forget +my reserve. + +"Evidently," I replied resentfully, "I have never been to--" + +I stopped myself, but it was already too late. + +He looked at me, squarely in the face. + +"To where?" he said with good humor. + +I did not answer. + +"To where?" he repeated. + +And, as I remained strangled in my muteness: + +"To Wadi Tarhit, do you mean?" + +It was on the east bank of Wadi Tarhit, a hundred and twenty +kilometers from Timissao, at 25.5 degrees north latitude, according to +the official report, that Captain Morhange was buried. + +"André," I cried stupidly, "I swear to you--" + +"What do you swear to me?" + +"That I never meant--" + +"To speak of Wadi Tarhit? Why? Why should you not speak to me of Wadi +Tarhit?" + +In answer to my supplicating silence, he merely shrugged his +shoulders. + +"Idiot," was all he said. + +And he left me before I could think of even one word to say. + +So much humility on my part had, however, not disarmed him. I had the +proof of it the next day, and the way he showed his humor was even +marked by an exhibition of wretchedly poor taste. + +I was just out of bed when he came into my room. + +"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. + +He had in his hand one of the official registers. In his nervous +crises he always began sorting them over, in the hope of finding some +pretext for making himself militarily insupportable. + +This time chance had favored him. + +He opened the register. I blushed violently at seeing the poor proof +of a photograph that I knew well. + +"What is that?" he repeated disdainfully. + +Too often I had surprised him in the act of regarding, none too +kindly, the portrait of Mlle. de C. which hung in my room not to be +convinced at that moment that he was trying to pick a quarrel with me. + +I controlled myself, however, and placed the poor little print in the +drawer. + +But my calmness did not pacify him. + +"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of +your gallantry with the official papers." + +He added, with a smile that spoke insult: + +"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut." + +"André," I said, and I was white, "I demand--" + +He stood up to the full height of his stature. + +"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to +speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should +think--" + +"André!" + +Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the +replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene. + +"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves +you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?" + +And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, +humming the shameful refrain of the previous night: + +"_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien, + Nini, Peau de Chien_." + +For three days neither of us spoke to the other. My exasperation was +too deep for words. Was I, then, to be held responsible for his +avatars! Was it my fault if, between two phrases, one seemed always +some allusion-- + +"The situation is intolerable," I said to myself. "It cannot last +longer." + +It was to cease very soon. + +One week after the scene of the photograph the courier arrived. I had +scarcely glanced at the index of the _Zeitschrift_, the German review +of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable +amazement. I had just read: _"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei +fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de +Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."_ + +At the same time I heard my comrade's voice. + +"Anything interesting in this number?" + +"No," I answered carelessly. + +"Let's see." + +I obeyed; what else was there to do? + +It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However, +his tone was altogether natural when he said: + +"You will let me borrow it, of course?" + +And he went out, casting me one defiant glance. + + * * * * * + +The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was +gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me. + +When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade +of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness +was already encroaching upon from the east. + +André broke the silence. + +"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is +not interesting." + +His expression was one of supreme amusement. + +"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?" + +"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching. + +"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?" + +I looked at him with an expression of supplication. + +"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more. + +Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia was still +yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping +sharply. + +"The _dib_ is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said +Saint-Avit. + +He continued pitilessly: + +"Then you aren't willing to say anything?" + +I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase: + +"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy--You don't feel +like yourself, you don't know any more--" + +"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy, +heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain +Morhange." + + + + +III + +THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION + + +"So I killed Captain Morhange," André de Saint-Avit said to me the +next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took +no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through. +"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the +desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that +confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it +may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the +present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again, +that I killed Captain Morhange. + +"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you +understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a +romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner +of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics +would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much +I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will +find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met +Morhange. + +"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my peace of +mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word, +apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black +ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge +of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my +life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my +companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere. + +"This being understood, here are the facts:" + +[NOTE: From this point on begins an extended narrative; +indeed it may be most of the remaining book. +I was changing the quoting, until I reached the end +of the chapter and found that it continued on from there.] + +It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that +I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me +the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult +times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat, +where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been +concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies. +Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and +at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The +Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its +occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was +Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of +Germany, and above all because of a certain _Declaration of the Rights +of Man and of the Citizen_, which prescribed that insurrection is the +most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut +your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own +discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts; +this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort +Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with +bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat. +Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the +necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way +would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that +were being woven there against us. + +The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able +chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his +confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in +the Tibesti. They had, I say _they_ through modesty, the idea of +ascertaining the traces left by these agitators on their favorite +places of concourse; Rhât, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and +In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin, +practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General +Rohlfs. + +I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to +Agadès, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff +officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I +was therefore selected to assume this new task. + +I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with +one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so +as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have +as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they +combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded +the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After +reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin, +instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhât, I would, +penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off +to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again +northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agadès. In +all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven +hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an +examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis +of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at +Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at +all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the +geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier +and the others are so disappointingly indefinite. + +Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which +is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's +(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through +the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a +machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry +provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken +pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells. + +Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with a hundred +regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and René +Callie, I go alone. + +I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me +to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure +until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his +expedition of exploration." + +I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this +expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make +the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea +of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the +desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a +superior. + +The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor. + +The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following +information: + +"Morhange (Jean-Marie-François), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain, +unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)" + +"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of +their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have +had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The +theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here." + +"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in +Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of +Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat. +And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army +Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament, +governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an +amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial +Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in +office, when it is not actually in spite of them." + +"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly; +"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along +the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much +time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?" + +"Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from +Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The +indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone." + +Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the +convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked. + +When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as +the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I +would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him. + +He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small +black moustache, and hair that was already white. + +"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said +immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man. +"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and +delaying your departure." + +"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly. + +"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your +knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I +wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction +and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me +with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable +institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to +re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth +century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla, +Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of +restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the +Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking. +From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I +must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have +ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on +Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental +Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to +ask for directions whether to turn right or left. This is the only +chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time +put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a +companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my +influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when +I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have +said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered +essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to +the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each +other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations, +all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a +friend as well." + +All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst +recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean +desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of +my company at a distance, without consulting me. + +"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering +words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?" + +He made a gesture of complete detachment. + +"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed +you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time." + +My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting +on leaving before the next week. + +"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?" + +He smiled delightfully. + +"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some +papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the +rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla." + +I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such +freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me. + +"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought +us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably +charming fellow." + +"Remarkably." + +"You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to +see that later on he doesn't get all the glory." + +"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively. + +I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment +I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence +persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, +everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife: + +"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it." + +I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening.... + +After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the +places where there are no more men who think and reason. + +Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming +over this new acquaintanceship. + +He presented him enthusiastically: + +"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man +after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, +but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea +before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to +give us." + +"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied +Morhange, with a quiet smile. + +The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter +rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the +newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have +I felt so sad. + +The time came to pass into the dining-room. + +"At my right, Captain," cried the Major, more and more beaming. "And I +hope you will keep on giving us these new lines on Paris. We are not +up with the times here, you know." + +"Yours to command, Major," said Morhange. + +"Be seated, gentlemen." + +The officers obeyed, with a joyous clatter of moving chairs. I had not +taken my eyes off Morhange, who was still standing. + +"Major, gentlemen, you will allow me," he said. + +And before sitting down at that table, where every moment he was the +life of the party, in a low voice, with his eyes closed, Captain +Morhange recited the Benedicite. + + + + +IV + +TOWARDS LATITUDE 25 + + +"You see," said Captain Morhange to me fifteen days later, "you are +much better informed about the ancient routes through the Sahara than +you have been willing to let me suppose, since you know of the +existence of the two Tadekkas. But the one of which you have just +spoken is the Tadekka of Ibn-Batoutah, located by this historian +seventy days from Touat, and placed by Schirmer, very plausibly, in +the unexplored territory of the Aouelimmiden. This is the Tadekka by +which the Sonrhaï caravans passed every year, travelling by Egypt. + +"My Tadekka is different, the capital of the veiled people, placed by +Ibn-Khaldoun twenty days south of Wargla, which he calls Tadmekka. It +is towards this Tadmekka that I am headed. I must establish Tadmekka +in the ruins of Es-Souk. The commercial trade route, which in the +ninth century bound the Tunisian Djerid to the bend the Niger makes at +Bourroum, passed by Es-Souk. It is to study the possibility of +reestablishing this ancient thoroughfare that the Ministries gave me +this mission, which has given me the pleasure of your companionship." + +"You are probably in for a disappointment," I said. "Everything +indicates that the commerce there is very slight." + +"Well, I shall see," he answered composedly. + +This was while we were following the unicolored banks of a salt lake. +The great saline stretch shone pale-blue, under the rising sun. The +legs of our five mehara cast on it their moving shadows of a darker +blue. For a moment the only inhabitant of these solitudes, a bird, a +kind of indeterminate heron, rose and hung in the air, as if +suspended from a thread, only to sink back to rest as soon as we had +passed. + +I led the way, selecting the route, Morhange followed. Enveloped in a +bernous, his head covered with the straight _chechia_ of the Spahis, a +great chaplet of alternate red and white beads, ending in a cross, +around his neck, he realized perfectly the ideal of Father Lavigerie's +White Fathers. + +After a two-days' halt at Temassinin we had just left the road +followed by Flatters, and taken an oblique course to the south. I have +the honor of having antedated Fourcau in demonstrating the importance +of Temassinin as a geometrical point for the passage of caravans, and +of selecting the place where Captain Pein has just now constructed a +fort. The junction for the roads that lead to Touat from Fezzan and +Tibesti, Temassinin is the future seat of a marvellous Intelligence +Department. What I had collected there in two days about the +disposition of our Senoussis enemies was of importance. I noticed that +Morhange let me proceed with my inquiries with complete indifference. + +These two days he had passed in conversation with the old Negro +guardian of the turbet, which preserves, under its plaster dome, the +remains of the venerated Sidi-Moussa. The confidences they exchanged, +I am sorry to say that I have forgotten. But from the Negro's amazed +admiration, I realized the ignorance in which I stood to the mysteries +of the desert, and how familiar they were to my companion. + +And if you want to get any idea of the extraordinary originality which +Morhange introduced into such surroundings, you who, after all, have a +certain familiarity with the tropics, listen to this. It was exactly +two hundred kilometers from here, in the vicinity of the Great Dune, +in that horrible stretch of six days without water. We had just enough +for two days before reaching the next well, and you know these wells; +as Flatters wrote to his wife, "you have to work for hours before you +can clean them out and succeed in watering beasts and men." By chance +we met a caravan there, which was going east towards Rhadamès, and had +come too far north. The camels' humps, shrunken and shaking, bespoke +the sufferings of the troop. Behind came a little gray ass, a pitiful +burrow, interfering at every step, and lightened of its pack because +the merchants knew that it was going to die. Instinctively, with its +last strength, it followed, knowing that when it could stagger no +longer, the end would come and the flutter of the bald vultures' +wings. I love animals, which I have solid reasons for preferring to +men. But never should I have thought of doing what Morhange did then. +I tell you that our water skins were almost dry, and that our own +camels, without which one is lost in the empty desert, had not been +watered for many hours. Morhange made his kneel, uncocked a skin, and +made the little ass drink. I certainly felt gratification at seeing +the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But +the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast +expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. +I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied +Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about +six o'clock. Between here and there I know that I shall not be +thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed +the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, +ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and +Bou-Djema's, are at his service." But I did not yet know Morhange very +well, and it is true that until the evening of the next day when we +reached El-Biodh, refusing our offers with smiling determination, he +drank nothing. + +Shades of St. Francis of Assisi! Umbrian hills, so pure under the +rising sun! It was in the light of a like sunrise, by the border of a +pale stream leaping in full cascades from a crescent-shaped niche of +the gray rocks of Egere, that Morhange stopped. The unlooked for +waters rolled upon the sand, and we saw, in the light which mirrored +them, little black fish. Fish in the middle of the Sahara! All three +of us were mute before this paradox of Nature. One of them had strayed +into a little channel of sand. He had to stay there, struggling in +vain, his little white belly exposed to the air.... Morhange picked +him up, looked at him for a moment, and put him back into the little +stream. Shades of St. Francis. Umbrian hills.... But I have sworn not +to break the thread of the story by these untimely digressions. + + * * * * * + +"You see," Captain Morhange said to me a week later, "that I was right +in advising you to go farther south before making for Shikh-Salah. +Something told me that this highland of Egere was not interesting from +your point of view. While here you have only to stoop to pick up +pebbles which will allow you to establish the volcanic origin of this +region much more certainly than Bou-Derba, des Cloizeaux, and Doctor +Marrés have done." + +This was while we were following the western pass of the Tidifest +Mountains, about the 25th degree of northern latitude. + +"I should indeed be ungrateful not to thank you," I said. + +I shall always remember that instant. We had left our camels and were +collecting fragments of the most characteristic rocks. Morhange +employed himself with a discernment which spoke worlds for his +knowledge of geology, a science he had often professed complete +ignorance of. + +Then I asked him the following question: + +"May I prove my gratitude by making you a confession?" + +He raised his head and looked at me. + +"Well then, I don't see the practical value of this trip you have +undertaken." + +He smiled. + +"Why not? To explore the old caravan route, to demonstrate that a +connection has existed from the most ancient times between the +Mediterranean world, and the country of the Blacks, that seems nothing +in your eyes? The hope of settling once for all the secular disputes +which have divided so many keen minds; d'Anville, Heeren, Berlioux, +Quatremere on the one hand,--on the other Gosselin, Walckenaer, +Tissit, Vivien, de saint-Martin; you think that that is devoid of +interest? A plague upon you for being hard to please." + +"I spoke of practical value," I said. "You won't deny that this +controversy is only the affair of cabinet geographers and office +explorers." + +Morhange kept on smiling. + +"Dear friend, don't wither me. Deign to recall that your mission was +confided to you by the Ministry of War, while I hold mine on behalf of +the Ministry of Public Instruction. A different origin justifies our +different aims. It certainly explains, I readily concede that to you, +why what I am in search of has no practical value." + +"You are also authorized by the Ministry of Commerce," I replied, +playing my next card. "By this chief you are instructed to study the +possibility of restoring the old trade route of the ninth century. But +on this point don't attempt to mislead me; with your knowledge of the +history and geography of the Sahara, your mind must have been made up +before you left Paris. The road from Djerid to the Niger is dead, +stone dead. You knew that no important traffic would pass by this +route before you undertook to study the possibility of restoring it." + +Morhange looked me full in the face. + +"And if that should be so," he said with the most charming attitude, +"if I had before leaving the conviction you say, what do you conclude +from that?" + +"I should prefer to have you tell me." + +"Simply, my dear boy, that I had less skill than you in finding the +pretext for my voyage, that I furnished less good reasons for the true +motives that brought me here." + +"A pretext? I don't see...." + +"Be sincere in your turn, if you please. I am sure that you have the +greatest desire to inform the Arabian Office about the practices of +the Senoussis. But admit that the information that you will obtain is +not the sole and innermost aim of your excursion. You are a geologist, +my friend. You have found a chance to gratify your taste in this trip. +No one would think of blaming you because you have known how to +reconcile what is useful to your country and agreeable to yourself. +But, for the love of God, don't deny it; I need no other proof than +your presence here on this side of the Tidifest, a very curious place +from a mineralogical point of view, but some hundred and fifty +kilometers south of your official route." + +It was not possible to have countered me with a better grace. I +parried by attacking. + +"Am I to conclude from all this that I do not know the real aims of +your trip, and that they have nothing to do with the official +motives?" + +I had gone a bit too far. I felt it from the seriousness with which +Morhange's reply was delivered. + +"No, my dear friend, you must not conclude just that. I should have no +taste for a lie which was based on fraud towards the estimable +constitutional bodies which have judged me worthy of their confidence +and their support. The ends that they have assigned to me I shall do +my best to attain. But I have no reason for hiding from you that there +is another, quite personal, which is far nearer to my heart. Let us +say, if you will, to use a terminology that is otherwise deplorable, +that this is the end while the others are the means." + +"Would there be any indiscretion?...." + +"None," replied my companion. "Shikh-Salah is only a few days distant. +He whose first steps you have guided with such solicitude in the +desert should have nothing hidden from you." + +We had halted in the valley of a little dry well where a few sickly +plants were growing. A spring near by was circled by a crown of gray +verdure. The camels had been unsaddled for the night, and were seeking +vainly, at every stride, to nibble the spiny tufts of _had_. The black +and polished sides of the Tidifest Mountains rose, almost vertically, +above our heads. Already the blue smoke of the fire on which Bou-Djema +was cooking dinner rose through the motionless air. + +Not a sound, not a breath. The smoke mounted straight, straight and +slowly up the pale steps of the firmament. + +"Have you ever heard of the _Atlas of Christianity_?" asked Morhange. + +"I think so. Isn't it a geographical work published by the +Benedictines under the direction of a certain Dom Granger?" + +"Your memory is correct," said Morhange. "Even so let me explain a +little more fully some of the things you have not had as much reason +as I to interest yourself in. The _Atlas of Christianity_ proposes to +establish the boundaries of that great tide of Christianity through +all the ages, and for all parts of the globe. An undertaking worthy of +the Benedictine learning, worthy of such a prodigy of erudition as +Dom Granger himself." + +"And it is these boundaries that you have come to determine here, no +doubt," I murmured. + +"Just so," replied my companion. + +He was silent, and I respected his silence, prepared by now to be +astonished at nothing. + +"It is not possible to give confidences by halves, without being +ridiculous," he continued after several minutes of meditation, +speaking gravely, in a voice which held no suggestion of that flashing +humor which had a month before enchanted the young officers at Wargla. +"I have begun on mine. I will tell you everything. Trust my +discretion, however, and do not insist upon certain events of my +private life. If, four years ago, at the close of these events, I +resolve to enter a monastery, it does not concern you to know my +reasons. I can marvel at it myself, that the passage in my life of a +being absolutely devoid of interest should have sufficed to change the +current of that life. I can marvel that a creature whose sole merit +was her beauty should have been permitted by the Creator to swing my +destiny to such an unforeseen direction. The monastery at whose doors +I knocked had the most valid reasons for doubting the stability of my +vocation. What the world loses in such fashion it often calls back as +readily. In short, I cannot blame the Father Abbot for having +forbidden me to apply for my army discharge. By his instructions, I +asked for, and obtained, permission to be placed on the inactive list +for three years. At the end of those three years of consecration it +would be seen whether the world was definitely dead to your servant. + +"The first day of my arrival at the cloister I was assigned to Dom +Granger, and placed by him at work on the _Atlas of Christianity_. A +brief examination decided him as to what kind of service I was best +fitted to render. This is how I came to enter the studio devoted to +the cartography of Northern Africa. I did not know one word of Arabic, +but it happened that in garrison at Lyon I had taken at the _Faculté +des Lettres,_ a course with Berlioux,--a very erudite geographer no +doubt, but obsessed by one idea, the influence the Greek and Roman +civilizations had exercised on Africa. This detail of my life was +enough for Dom Granger. He provided me straightway with Berber +vocabularies by Venture, by Delaporte, by Brosselard; with the +_Grammatical Sketch of the Temahaq_ by Stanley Fleeman, and the _Essai +de Grammaire de la langue Temachek_ by Major Hanoteau. At the end of +three months I was able to decipher any inscriptions in Tifinar. You +know that Tifinar is the national writing of the Tuareg, the +expression of this Temachek language which seems to us the most +curious protest of the Targui race against its Mohammedan enemies. + +"Dom Granger, in fact, believed that the Tuareg are Christians, dating +from a period which it was necessary to ascertain, but which coincided +no doubt with the splendor of the church of Hippon. Even better than +I, you know that the cross is with them the symbol of fate in +decoration. Duveyrier has claimed that it figures in their alphabet, +on their arms, among the designs of their clothes. The only tattooing +that they wear on the forehead, on the back of the hand, is a cross +with four equal branches; the pummels of their saddles, the handles of +their sabres, of their poignards, are cross-shaped. And is it +necessary to remind you that, although Islam forbids bells as a sign +of Christianity, the harness of Tuareg camels are trimmed with bells? + +"Neither Dom Granger nor I attach an exaggerated importance to such +proofs, which resemble too much those which make such a display in the +_Genius of Christianity._ But it is indeed impossible to refuse all +credence to certain theological arguments. Amanai, the God of the +Tuareg, unquestionably the Adonai of the Bible, is unique. They have a +hell, 'Timsi-tan-elekhaft,' the last fire, where reigns Iblis, our +Lucifer. Their Paradise, where they are rewarded for good deeds, is +inhabited by 'andjelousen,' our angels. And do not urge the +resemblance of this theology to the Koran, for I will meet you with +historic arguments and remind you that the Tuareg have struggled all +through the ages at the cost of partial extermination, to maintain +their faith against the encroachments of Mohammedan fanaticism. + +"Many times I have studied with Dom Granger that formidable epoch when +the aborigines opposed the conquering Arabs. With him I have seen how +the army of Sidi-Okba, one of the companions of the Prophet, invaded +this desert to reduce the Tuareg tribes and impose on them Mussulman +rules. These tribes were then rich and prosperous. They were the +Ihbggaren, the Imededren, the Ouadelen, the Kel-Gueress, the Kel-Air. +But internal quarrels sapped their strength. Still, it was not until +after a long and cruel war that the Arabians succeeded in getting +possession of the capital of the Berbers, which had proved such a +redoubtable stronghold. They destroyed it after they had massacred the +inhabitants. On the ruins Okba constructed a new city. This city is +Es-Souk. The one that Sidi-Okba destroyed was the Berber Tadmekka. +What Dom Granger asked of me was precisely that I should try to exhume +from the ruins of the Mussulman Es-Souk the ruins of Tadmekka, which +was Berber, and perhaps Christian." + +"I understand," I murmured. + +"So far, so good," said Morhange. "But what you must grasp now is the +practical sense of these religious men, my masters. You remember that, +even after three years of monastic life, they preserved their doubts +as to the stability of my vocation. They found at the same time means +of testing it once for all, and of adapting official facilities to +their particular purposes. One morning I was called before the Father +Abbot, and this is what he said to me, in the presence of Dom Granger, +who expressed silent approval. + +"'Your term of inactive service expires in fifteen days. You will +return to Paris, and apply at the Ministry to be reinstated. With what +you have learned here, and the relationships we have been able to +maintain at Headquarters, you will have no difficulty in being +attached to the Geographical Staff of the army. When you reach the rue +de Grenelle you will receive our instructions.' + +"I was astonished at their confidence in my knowledge. When I was +reestablished as Captain again in the Geographical Service I +understood. At the monastery, the daily association with Dom Granger +and his pupils had kept me constantly convinced of the inferiority of +my knowledge. When I came in contact with my military brethren I +realized the superiority of the instruction I had received. I did not +have to concern myself with the details of my mission. The Ministries +invited me to undertake it. My initiative asserted itself on only one +occasion. When I learned that you were going to leave Wargla on the +present expedition, having reason to distrust my practical +qualifications as an explorer, I did my best to retard your departure, +so that I might join you. I hope that you have forgiven me by now." + + * * * * * + +The light in the west was fading, where the sun had already sunk into +a matchless luxury of violet draperies. We were alone in this +immensity, at the feet of the rigid black rocks. Nothing but +ourselves. Nothing, nothing but ourselves. + +I held out my hand to Morhange, and he pressed it. Then he said: + +"If they still seem infinitely long to me, the several thousand +kilometers which separate me from the instant when, my task +accomplished, I shall at last find oblivion in the cloister for the +things for which I was not made, let me tell you this;--the several +hundred kilometers which still separate us from Shikh-Salah seem to me +infinitely short to traverse in your company." + +On the pale water of the little pool, motionless and fixed like a +silver nail, a star had just been born. + +"Shikh-Salah," I murmured, my heart full of an indefinable sadness. +"Patience, we are not there yet." + +In truth, we never were to be there. + + + + +V + +THE INSCRIPTION + + +With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock +from the black flank of the mountain. + +"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me. + +"A basaltic peridot," I said. + +"It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it." + +"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit +that I am otherwise preoccupied." + +"How?" + +"Look this way a bit," I said, showing towards the west, on the +horizon, a black spot across the white plain. + +It was six o'clock in the morning. The sun had risen. But it could not +be found in the surprisingly polished air. And not a breath of air, +not a breath. Suddenly one of the camels called. An enormous antelope +had just come in sight, and had stopped in its flight, terrified, +racing the wall of rock. It stayed there at a little distance from us, +dazed, trembling on its slender legs. + +Bou-Djema had rejoined us. + +"When the legs of the mohor tremble it is because the firmament is +shaken," he muttered. + +"A storm?" + +"Yes, a storm." + +"And you find that alarming?" + +I did not answer immediately. I was exchanging several brief words +with Bou-Djema, who was occupied in soothing the camels which were +giving signs of being restive. + +Morhange repeated his question. I shrugged my shoulders. + +"Alarming? I don't know. I have never seen a storm on the Hoggar. But +I distrust it. And the signs are that this is going to be a big one. +See there already." + +A slight dust had risen before the cliff. In the still air a few +grains of sand had begun to whirl round and round, with a speed which +increased to dizziness, giving us in advance the spectacle in +miniature of what would soon be breaking upon us. + +With harsh cries a flock of wild geese appeared, flying low. They came +out of the west. + +"They are fleeing towards the Sebkha d'Amanghor," said Bou-Djema. + +There could be no greater mistake, I thought. + +Morhange looked at me curiously. + +"What must we do?" he asked. + +"Mount our camels immediately, before they are completely +demoralized, and hurry to find shelter in some high places. Take +account of our situation. It is easy to follow the bed of a stream. +But within a quarter of an hour perhaps the storm will have burst. +Within a half hour a perfect torrent will be rushing here. On this +soil, which is almost impermeable, rain will roll like a pail of water +thrown on a bituminous pavement. No depth, all height. Look at this." + +And I showed him, a dozen meters high, long hollow gouges, marks of +former erosions on the rocky wall. + +"In an hour the waters will reach that height. Those are the marks of +the last inundation. Let us get started. There is not an instant to +lose." + +"All right," Morhange replied tranquilly. + +We had the greatest difficulty to make the camels kneel. When we had +thrown ourselves into the saddle they started off at a pace which +their terror rendered more and more disorderly. + +Of a sudden the wind began, a formidable wind, and, almost at the same +time the light was eclipsed in the ravine. Above our heads the sky had +become, in the flash of an eye, darker than the walls of the canyon +which we were descending at a breathless pace. + +"A path, a stairway in the wall," I screamed against the wind to my +companions. "If we don't find one in a minute we are lost." + +They did not hear me, but, turning in my saddle, I saw that they had +lost no distance, Morhange following me, and Bou-Djema in the rear +driving the two baggage camels masterfully before him. + +A blinding streak of lightning rent the obscurity. A peal of thunder, +re-echoed to infinity by the rocky wall, rang out, and immediately +great tepid drops began to fall. In an instant, our burnouses, which +had been blown out behind by the speed with which we were traveling, +were stuck tight to our streaming bodies. + +"Saved!" I exclaimed suddenly. + +Abruptly on our right a crevice opened in the midst of the wall. It +was the almost perpendicular bed of a stream, an affluent of the one +we had had the unfortunate idea of following that morning. Already a +veritable torrent was gushing over it with a fine uproar. + +I have never better appreciated the incomparable sure-footedness of +camels in the most precipitate places. Bracing themselves, stretching +out their great legs, balancing themselves among the rocks that were +beginning to be swept loose, our camels accomplished at that moment +what the mules of the Pyrannees might have failed in. + +After several moments of superhuman effort we found ourselves at last +out of danger, on a kind of basaltic terrace, elevated some fifty +meters above the channel of the stream we had just left. Luck was with +us; a little grotto opened out behind. Bou-Djema succeeded in +sheltering the camels there. From its threshold we had leisure to +contemplate in silence the prodigious spectacle spread out before us. + +You have, I believe, been at the Camp of Chalons for artillery drills. +You have seen when the shell bursts how the chalky soil of the Marne +effervesces like the inkwells at school, when we used to throw a piece +of calcium carbonate into them. Well, it was almost like that, but in +the midst of the desert, in the midst of obscurity. The white waters +rushed into the depths of the black hole, and rose and rose towards +the pedestal on which we stood. And there was the uninterrupted noise +of thunder, and still louder, the sound of whole walls of rock, +undermined by the flood, collapsing in a heap and dissolving in a few +seconds of time in the midst of the rising water. + +All the time that this deluge lasted, one hour, perhaps two, Morhange +and I stayed bending over this fantastic foaming vat; anxious to see, +to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a +kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we +had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the +water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful +it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare. + +Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each +other. + +Morhange held out his hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. + +And he added with a smile: + +"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been +pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of +decision, from this very paradoxical end." + +Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to +his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never +have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of +weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly. +No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did +happen. + + * * * * * + +Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's +camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the +torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its +unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a +sky that had renewed its blueness. I could feel the clothes that had a +moment before been drenching, drying upon me incredibly fast. + +A hand was placed on my shoulder. Morhange was again beside me. + +"Come here," he said. + +Somewhat surprised, I followed him. We went into the grotto. + +The opening, which was big enough to admit the camels, made it fairly +light. Morhange led me up to the smooth face of rock opposite. "Look," +he said, with unconcealed joy. + +"What of it?" + +"Don't you see?" + +"I see that there are several Tuareg inscriptions," I answered, with +some disappointment. "But I thought I had told you that I read Tifinar +writing very badly. Are these writings more interesting than the +others we have come upon before?" + +"Look at this one," said Morhange. There was such an accent of triumph +in his tone that this time I concentrated my attention. + +I looked again. + +The characters of the inscription were arranged in the form of a +cross. It plays such an important part in this adventure that I cannot +forego retracing it for you. + + | + | + + +o o o o -- W + -- - + | + | + | + +[Transcriber's Note: This is but a crude ASCII representation of the +inscription. The center 'W' is rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise in +the book.] + +It was designed with great regularity, and the characters were cut +deep into the rock. Although I knew so little of rock inscriptions at +that time I had no difficulty in recognizing the antiquity of this +one. + +Morhange became more and more radiant as he regarded it. + +I looked at him questioningly. + +"Well, what have you to say now?" he asked. + +"What do you want me to say? I tell you that I can barely read +Tifinar." + +"Shall I help you?" he suggested. + +This course in Berber writing, after the emotions through which we had +just passed, seemed to me a little inopportune. But Morhange was so +visibly delighted that I could not dash his joy. + +"Very well then," began my companion, as much at his, ease as if he had +been before a blackboard, "what will strike you first about this +inscription is its repetition in the form of a cross. That is to say +that it contains the same word twice, top to bottom, and right to left. +The word which it composes has seven letters so the fourth letter, W +[Transcriber's Note: Rotated 90 deg. counter-clockwise], comes naturally +in the middle. This arrangement which is unique in Tifinar writing, is +already remarkable enough. But there is better still. Now we will read +it." + +Getting it wrong three times out of seven I finally succeeded, with +Morhange's help, in spelling the word. + +"Have you got it?" asked Morhange when I had finished my task. + +"Less than ever," I answered, a little put out; +"a,n,t,i,n,h,a,--Antinha, I don't know that word, or anything like it, +in all the Saharan dialects I am familiar with." + +Morhange rubbed his hands together. His satisfaction was without +bounds. + +"You have said it. That is why the discovery is unique." + +"Why?" + +"There is really nothing, either in Berber or in Arabian, analogous to +this word." + +"Then?" + +"Then, my dear friend, we are in the presence of a foreign word, +translated into Tifinar." + +"And this word belongs, according to your theory, to what language?" + +"You must realize that the letter _e_ does not exist in the Tifinar +alphabet. It has here been replaced by the phonetic sign which is +nearest to it,--h. Restore _e_ to the place which belongs to it in the +word, and you have--" + +"Antinea." + +"'Antinea,' precisely. We find ourselves before a Greek vocable +reproduced in Tifinar. And I think that now you will agree with me +that my find has a certain interest." + +That day we had no more conferences upon texts. A loud cry, anguished, +terrifying, rang out. + +We rushed out to find a strange spectacle awaiting us. + +Although the sky had cleared again, the torrent of yellow water was +still foaming and no one could predict when it would fall. In +mid-stream, struggling desperately in the current, was an +extraordinary mass, gray and soft and swaying. + +But what at the first glance overwhelmed us with astonishment was to +see Bou-Djema, usually so calm, at this moment apparently beside +himself with frenzy, bounding through the gullies and over the rocks +of the ledge, in full pursuit of the shipwreck. + +Of a sudden I seized Morhange by the arm. The grayish thing was alive. +A pitiful long neck emerged from it with the heartrending cry of a +beast in despair. + +"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the +stream is carrying it away!" + +"You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. +The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish +we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave +Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the +intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream." + +"Who gave that cry, then?" + +"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is +descending at such a rate." + +And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the +recently washed gullies of the rocky bank. + +At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his +destiny. + +I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or +three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing +brook where the water was falling a trifle. + +"See there?" said Morhange. + +A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek. + +When we had come up even with it we saw that it was a man in the long +dark blue robes of the Tuareg. + +"Give me your hand," said Morhange, "and brace yourself against a +rock, hard." + +He was very, very strong. In an instant, as if it were child's play, +he had brought the body ashore. + +"He is still alive," he pronounced with satisfaction. "Now it is a +question of getting him to the grotto. This is no place to resuscitate +a drowned man." + +He raised the body in his powerful arms. + +"It is astonishing how little he weighs for a man of his height." + +By the time we had retraced the way to the grotto the man's cotton +clothes were almost dry. But the dye had run plentifully, and it was +an indigo man that Morhange was trying to recall to life. + +When I had made him swallow a quart of rum he opened his eyes, looked +at the two of us with surprise, then, closing them again, murmured +almost unintelligibly a phrase, the sense of which we did not get +until some days later: + +"Can it be that I have reached the end of my mission?" + +"What mission is he talking about?" I said. + +"Let him recover himself completely," responded Morhange. "You had +better open some preserved food. With fellows of this build you don't +have to observe the precautions prescribed for drowned Europeans." + +It was indeed a species of giant, whose life we had just saved. His +face, although very thin, was regular, almost beautiful. He had a +clear skin and little beard. His hair, already white, showed him to be +a man of sixty years. + +When I placed a tin of corned-beef before him a light of voracious joy +came into his eyes. The tin contained an allowance for four persons. +It was empty in a flash. + +"Behold," said Morhange, "a robust appetite. Now we can put our +questions without scruple." + +Already the Targa had placed over his forehead and face the blue veil +prescribed by the ritual. He must have been completely famished not to +have performed this indispensable formality sooner. There was nothing +visible now but the eyes, watching us with a light that grew steadily +more sombre. + +"French officers," he murmured at last. + +And he took Morhange's hand, and having placed it against his breast, +carried it to his lips. + +Suddenly an expression of anxiety passed over his face. + +"And my mehari?" he asked. + +I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his +beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the +current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. +His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he +remembered nothing more. + +"What is your name?" I asked. + +"Eg-Anteouen." + +"What tribe do you belong to?" + +"The tribe of Kel-Tahat." + +"The Kel-Tahats are the serfs of the tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, the great +nobles of Hoggar?" + +"Yes," he answered, casting a side glance in my direction. It seemed +that such precise questions on the affairs of Ahygar were not to his +liking. + +"The Kel-Tahats, if I am not mistaken, are established on the +southwest flank of Atakor.[5] What were you doing, so far from your +home territory when we saved your life?" + +[Footnote 5: Another name, in the Temahaq language, for Ahaggar. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +"I was going, by way of Tit, to In-Salah," he said. + +"What were you going to do at In-Salah?" + +He was about to reply. But suddenly we saw him tremble. His eyes were +fixed on a point of the cavern. We looked to see what it was. He had +just seen the rock inscription which had so delighted Morhange an hour +before. + +"Do you know that?" Morhange asked him with keen curiosity. + +The Targa did not speak a word but his eyes had a strange light. + +"Do you know that?" insisted Morhange. + +And he added: + +"Antinea?" + +"Antinea," repeated the man. + +And he was silent. + +"Why don't you answer the Captain?" I called out, with a strange +feeling of rage sweeping over me. + +The Targui looked at me. I thought that he was going to speak. But his +eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features +stiffening. + +Morhange and I turned around. + +On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by +an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us. + + + + +VI + +THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE + + +As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both +the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately +repressed. It was nothing more than a fleeting impression. +Nevertheless, it was enough to make me resolve that as soon as I was +alone with our guide, I would question him closely concerning our new +companion. + +The beginning of the day had been wearisome enough. We decided, +therefore, to spend the rest of it there, and even to pass the night +in the cave, waiting till the flood had completely subsided. + +In the morning, when I was marking our day's march upon the map, +Morhange came toward me. I noticed that his manner was somewhat +restrained. + +"In three days, we shall be at Shikh-Salah," I said to him. "Perhaps +by the evening of the second day, badly as the camels go." + +"Perhaps we shall separate before then," he muttered. + +"How so?" + +"You see, I have changed my itinerary a little. I have given up the +idea of going straight to Timissao. First I should like to make a +little excursion into the interior of the Ahaggar range." + +I frowned: + +"What is this new idea?" + +As I spoke I looked about for Eg-Anteouen, whom I had seen in +conversation with Morhange the previous evening and several minutes +before. He was quietly mending one of his sandals with a waxed thread +supplied by Bou-Djema. He did not raise his head. + +"It is simply," explained Morhange, less and less at his ease, "that +this man tells me there are similar inscriptions in several caverns in +western Ahaggar. These caves are near the road that he has to take +returning home. He must pass by Tit. Now, from Tit, by way of Silet, +is hardly two hundred kilometers. It is a quasi-classic route[6] as +short again as the one that I shall have to take alone, after I leave +you, from Shikh-Salah to Timissao. That is in part, you see, the +reason which has made me decide to...." + +[Footnote 6: The route and the stages from Tit to Timissao were +actually plotted out, as early as 1888, by Captain Bissuel. _Les +Tuarge de l'Ouest,_ itineraries 1 and 10. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"In part? In very small part," I replied. "But is your mind absolutely +made up?" + +"It is," he answered me. + +"When do you expect to leave me?" + +"To-day. The road which Eg-Anteouen proposes to take into Ahaggar +crosses this one about four leagues from here. I have a favor to ask +of you in this connection." + +"Please tell me." + +"It is to let me take one of the two baggage camels, since my Targa +has lost his." + +"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does +your own mehari," I answered coldly. + +We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained +an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or +less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored +portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the +tan area of supposed mountains. + +I finally said: + +"You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, +you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?" + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +"Why do you ask that?" + +"Because, if you promise me that,--provided, of course, that my +company is not unwelcome to you--I will go with you. Either way, I +shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for +Shikh-Salah from the south, instead of from the west--that is the only +difference." + +Morhange looked at me with emotion. + +"Why do you do this?" he murmured. + +"My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed +Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which +becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave +you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the +storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to +have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may +be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well +pleased not to let you run sure risks alone." + +"I have a guide," he said with his adorable naiveté. + +Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old +slipper. + +I took a step toward him. + +"You heard what I said to the Captain?" + +"Yes," the Targa answered calmly. + +"I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must +bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?" + +"I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the +Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march +southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But +farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are +good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, +come to water their camels." + +"And you know the road well?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile. + +"I have taken it twenty times," he said. + +"In that case, let's get started." + +We rode for two hours. I did not exchange a word with Morhange. I had +a clear intuition of the folly we were committing in risking ourselves +so unconcernedly in that least known and most dangerous part of the +Sahara. Every blow which had been struck in the last twenty years to +undermine the French advance had come from this redoubtable Ahaggar. +But what of it? It was of my own will that I had joined in this mad +scheme. No need of going over it again. What was the use of spoiling +my action by a continual exhibition of disapproval? And, furthermore, +I may as well admit that I rather liked the turn that our trip was +beginning to take. I had, at that instant, the sensation of journeying +toward something incredible, toward some tremendous adventure. You do +not live with impunity for months and years as the guest of the +desert. Sooner or later, it has its way with you, annihilates the good +officer, the timid executive, overthrows his solicitude for his +responsibilities. What is there behind those mysterious rocks, those +dim solitudes, which have held at bay the most illustrious pursuers of +mystery? You follow, I tell you, you follow. + + * * * * * + +"Are you sure at least that this inscription is interesting enough to +justify us in our undertaking?" I asked Morhange. + +My companion started with pleasure. Ever since we began our journey I +had realized his fear that I was coming along half-heartedly. As soon +as I offered him a chance to convince me, his scruples vanished, and +his triumph seemed assured to him. + +"Never," he answered, in a voice that he tried to control, but through +which the enthusiasm rang out, "never has a Greek inscription been +found so far south. The farthest points where they have been reported +are in the south of Algeria and Cyrene. But in Ahaggar! Think of it! +It is true that this one is translated into Tifinar. But this +peculiarity does not diminish the interest of the coincidence: it +increases it." + +"What do you take to be the meaning of this word?" + +"_Antinea_ can only be a proper name," said Morhange. "To whom does it +refer? I admit I don't know, and if at this very moment I am marching +toward the south, dragging you along with me, it is because I count on +learning more about it. Its etymology? It hasn't one definitely, but +there are thirty possibilities. Bear in mind that the Tifinar alphabet +is far from tallying with the Greek alphabet, which increases the +number of hypotheses. Shall I suggest several?" + +"I was just about to ask you to." + +"To begin with, there is [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], _the woman +who is placed opposite a vessel_, an explanation which would have been +pleasing to Gaffarel and to my venerated master Berlioux. That would +apply well enough to the figure-heads of ships. There is a technical +term that I cannot recall at this moment, not if you beat me a hundred +times over.[7] + +[Footnote 7: It is perhaps worth noting here that _Figures de Proues_ +is the exact title of a very remarkable collection of poems by Mme. +Delarus-Mardrus. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"Then there is [Greek: agtinêa], that you must relate to [Greek: agti] +and [Greek: naos], _she who holds herself before the_ [Greek: naos], +the [Greek: naos] of the temple, _she who is opposite the sanctuary,_ +therefore priestess. An interpretation which would enchant Girard and +Renan. + +"Next we have [Greek: agtine], from [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], +new, which can mean two things: either _she who is the contrary of +young_, which is to say old; or _she who is the enemy of novelty_ or +_the enemy of youth_. + +"There is still another sense of [Greek: gati], _in exchange for,_ +which is capable of complicating all the others I have mentioned; +likewise there are four meanings for the verb [Greek: neô], which +means in turn _to go, to flow, to thread_ or _weave, to heap_. There +is more still.... And notice, please, that I have not at my +disposition on the otherwise commodious hump of this mehari, either +the great dictionary of Estienne or the lexicons of Passow, of Pape, +or of Liddel-Scott. This is only to show you, my dear friend, that +epigraphy is but a relative science, always dependent on the discovery +of a new text which contradicts the previous findings, when it is not +merely at the mercy of the humors of the epigraphists and their pet +conceptions of the universe. + +"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my +astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal, +you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite +considerable." + +Morhange smiled wanly. + +"I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back +to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are +beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." + +Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well +fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. + +Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema +repair the damage. + +When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. + +"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will +have to climb the mountain." + +The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought +it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed +Eg-Anteouen would have told him. + +"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not +mountainous," said the Chaamba. + +"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going +south, by Ahaggar." + +"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...." + +"But what?" + +"I do not know the road." + +"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us." + +"Eg-Anteouen!" + +I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes +were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright. + +Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with +Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be +conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were +not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words. + +Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale. + +"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice. + +"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered. + +His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper: + +"Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to +pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell +you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead. +Join the Captain." + +"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as +to make him overtake Morhange. + + * * * * * + +It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way, +came to a stop. + +"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel. + +It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of +granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced, +from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high +and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk +abreast. + +"Here it is," repeated the Targa. + +To the west, straight behind us, the track that we were leaving +unrolled like a pale ribbon. The white plain, the road to Shikh-Salah, +the established halts, the well-known wells.... And, on the other +side, this black wall against the mauve sky, this dark passage. + +I looked at Morhange. + +"We had better stop here," he said simply. "Eg-Anteouen advises us to +take as much water here as we can carry." + +With one accord we decided to spend the night there, before +undertaking the mountain. + +There was a spring, in a dark basin, from which fell a little cascade; +there were a few shrubs, a few plants. + +Already the camels were browsing at the length of their tethers. + +Bou-Djema arranged our camp dinner service of tin cups and plates on a +great flat stone. An opened tin of meat lay beside a plate of lettuce +which he had just gathered from the moist earth around the spring. I +could tell from the distracted manner in which he placed these objects +upon the rock how deep was his anxiety. + +As he was bending toward me to hand me a plate, he pointed to the +gloomy black corridor which we were about to enter. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf!"_ he murmured. + +"What did he say?" asked Morhange, who had seen the gesture. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf. This is the country of fear._ That is what the Arabs +call Ahaggar." + +Bou-Djema went a little distance off and sat down, leaving us to our +dinner. Squatting on his heels, he began to eat a few lettuce leaves +that he had kept for his own meal. + +Eg-Anteouen was still motionless. + +Suddenly the Targa rose. The sun in the west was no larger than a red +brand. We saw Eg-Anteouen approach the fountain, spread his blue +burnous on the ground and kneel upon it. + +"I did not suppose that the Tuareg were so observant of Mussulman +tradition," said Morhange. + +"Nor I," I replied thoughtfully. + +But I had something to do at that moment besides making such +speculations. + +"Bou-Djema," I called. + +At the same time, I looked at Eg-Anteouen. Absorbed in his prayer, +bowed toward the west, apparently he was paying no attention to me. As +he prostrated himself, I called again. + +"Bou-Djema, come with me to my mehari; I want to get something out of +the saddle bags." + +Still kneeling, Eg-Anteouen was mumbling his prayer slowly, +composedly. + +But Bou-Djema had not budged. + +His only response was a deep moan. + +Morhange and I leaped to our feet and ran to the guide. Eg-Anteouen +reached him as soon as we did. + +With his eyes closed and his limbs already cold, the Chaamba breathed +a death rattle in Morhange's arms. I had seized one of his hands. +Eg-Anteouen took the other. Each, in his own way, was trying to +divine, to understand.... + +Suddenly Eg-Anteouen leapt to his feet. He had just seen the poor +embossed bowl which the Arab had held an instant before between his +knees, and which now lay overturned upon the ground. + +He picked it up, looked quickly at one after another of the leaves of +lettuce remaining in it, and then gave a hoarse exclamation. + +"So," said Morhange, "it's his turn now; he is going to go mad." + +Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the +rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, +holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched. + +Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and +held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ was all he said. + +I shuddered, and so did Morhange. It was the _afahlehla,_ the +_falestez_, of the Arabs of the Sahara, the terrible plant which had +killed a part of the Flatters mission more quickly and surely than +Tuareg arms. + +Eg-Anteouen stood up. His tall silhouette was outlined blackly against +the sky which suddenly had turned pale lilac. He was watching us. + +We bent again over the unfortunate guide. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ the Targa repeated, and shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Bou-Djema died in the middle of the night without having regained +consciousness. + + + + +VII + +THE COUNTRY OF FEAR + + +"It is curious," said Morhange, "to see how our expedition, uneventful +since we left Ouargla, is now becoming exciting." + +He said this after kneeling for a moment in prayer before the +painfully dug grave in which we had lain the guide. + +I do not believe in God. But if anything can influence whatever powers +there may be, whether of good or of evil, of light or of darkness, it +is the prayer of such a man. + +For two days we picked our way through a gigantic chaos of black rock +in what might have been the country of the moon, so barren was it. No +sound but that of stones rolling under the feet of the camels and +striking like gunshots at the foot of the precipices. + +A strange march indeed. For the first few hours, I tried to pick out, +by compass, the route we were following. But my calculations were soon +upset; doubtless a mistake due to the swaying motion of the camel. I +put the compass back in one of my saddle-bags. From that time on, +Eg-Anteouen was our master. We could only trust ourselves to him. + +He went first; Morhange followed him, and I brought up the rear. We +passed at every step most curious specimens of volcanic rock. But I +did not examine them. I was no longer interested in such things. +Another kind of curiosity had taken possession of me. I had come to +share Morhange's madness. If my companion had said to me: "We are +doing a very rash thing. Let us go back to the known trails," I should +have replied, "You are free to do as you please. But I am going on." + +Toward evening of the second day, we found ourselves at the foot of a +black mountain whose jagged ramparts towered in profile seven thousand +feet above our heads. It was an enormous shadowy fortress, like the +outline of a feudal stronghold silhouetted with incredible sharpness +against the orange sky. + +There was a well, with several trees, the first we had seen since +cutting into Ahaggar. + +A group of men were standing about it. Their camels, tethered close +by, were cropping a mouthful here and there. + +At seeing us, the men drew together, alert, on the defensive. + +Eg-Anteouen turned to us and said: + +"Eggali Tuareg." + +We went toward them. + +They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever +have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well, +leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked +at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any +rate, with respect. + +I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and was astonished +at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even +of my glance. + +When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for +which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not +prepared me. + +"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And +yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to +which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe." + +A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen. + +"It is true," he said. + +"Well then?" + +"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the +Mountain of the Evil Spirits." + +With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain. + +"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain +of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very +mention of its name." + +"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?" +queried Morhange. + +"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I +told you about." + +"You did not mention that detail to us." + +"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the _ilhinen,_ spirits with +horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die +and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not +afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg." + +"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the +_ilhinen_?" + +Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a +chain of white seeds. + +"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable +Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You +have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!" + +As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long +reed pipe and began to smoke gravely. + +"All this is beginning to seem very strange," said Morhange, coming +over to me. + +"You can say that without exaggeration," I replied. "You remember as +well as I the passage in which Barth tells of his expedition to the +Idinen, the Mountain of the Evil Spirits of the Azdjer Tuareg. The +region had so evil a reputation that no Targa would go with him. But +he got back." + +"Yes, he got back," replied my comrade, "but only after he had been +lost. Without water or food, he came so near dying of hunger and +thirst that he had to open a vein and drink his own blood. The +prospect is not particularly attractive." + +I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was not my fault that we were +there. + +Morhange understood my gesture and thought it necessary to make +excuses. + +"I should be curious," he went on with rather forced gaiety, "to meet +these spirits and substantiate the facts of Pomponius Mela who knew +them and locates them, in fact, in the mountain of the Tuareg. He +calls them _Egipans, Blemyens, Gamphasantes, Satyrs.... 'The +Gamphasantes_, he says, 'are naked. The _Blemyens_ have no head: their +faces are placed on their chests; the _Satyrs_ have nothing like men +except faces. The _Egipans_ are made as is commonly described.' ... +_Satyrs, Egipans_ ... isn't it very strange to find Greek names given +to the barbarian spirits of this region? Believe me, we are on a +curious trail; I am sure that Antinea will be our key to remarkable +discoveries." + +"Listen," I said, laying a finger on my lips. + +Strange sounds rose from about us as the evening advanced with great +strides. A kind of crackling, followed by long rending shrieks, echoed +and reechoed to infinity in the neighboring ravines. It seemed to me +that the whole black mountain suddenly had begun to moan. + +We looked at Eg-Anteouen. He was smoking on, without twitching a +muscle. + +"The _ilhinen_ are waking up," he said simply. + +Morhange listened without saying a word. Doubtless he understood as I +did: the overheated rocks, the crackling of the stone, a whole series +of physical phenomena, the example of the singing statue of Memnon.... +But, for all that, this unexpected concert reacted no less painfully +on our overstrained nerves. + +The last words of poor Bou-Djema came to my mind. + +"The country of fear," I murmured in a low voice. + +And Morhange repeated: + +"The country of fear." + +The strange concert ceased as the first stars appeared in the sky. +With deep emotion we watched the tiny bluish flames appear, one after +another. At that portentous moment they seemed to span the distance +between us, isolated, condemned, lost, and our brothers of higher +latitudes, who at that hour were rushing about their poor pleasures +with delirious frenzy in cities where the whiteness of electric lamps +came on in a burst. + +_Chêt-Ahadh essa hetîsenet +Mâteredjrê d'Erredjaot, +Mâtesekek d-Essekâot, +Mâtelahrlahr d'Ellerhâot, +Ettâs djenen, barâd tît-ennit abâtet._ + +Eg-Anteouen's voice raised itself in slow guttural tones. It resounded +with sad, grave majesty in the silence now complete. + +I touched the Targa's arm. With a movement of his head, he pointed to +a constellation glittering in the firmament. + +"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale +stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same +monotone: + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven: + Mâteredjrê and Erredjeâot, + Mâtesekek and Essekâot, + Mâtelahrlahr and Ellerhâot, + The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away." + +A sudden sickness came over me. I seized the Targa's arm as he was +starting to intone his refrain for the third time. + +"When will we reach this cave with the inscriptions?" I asked +brusquely. + +He looked at me and replied with his usual calm: + +"We are there." + +"We are there? Then why don't you show it to us?" + +"You did not ask me," he replied, not without a touch of insolence. + +Morhange had jumped to his feet. + +"The cave is here?" + +"It is here," Eg-Anteouen replied slowly, rising to his feet. + +"Take us to it." + +"Morhange," I said, suddenly anxious, "night is falling. We will see +nothing. And perhaps it is still some way off." + +"It is hardly five hundred paces," Eg-Anteouen replied. "The cave is +full of dead underbrush. We will set it on fire and the Captain will +see as in full daylight." + +"Come," my comrade repeated. + +"And the camels?" I hazarded. + +"They are tethered," said Eg-Anteouen, "and we shall not be gone +long." + +He had started toward the black mountain. Morhange, trembling with +excitement, followed. I followed, too, the victim of profound +uneasiness. My pulses throbbed. "I am not afraid," I kept repeating to +myself. "I swear that this is not fear." + +And really it was not fear. Yet, what a strange dizziness! There was a +mist over my eyes. My ears buzzed. Again I heard Eg-Anteouen's voice, +but multiplied, immense, and at the same time, very low. + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven...." + +It seemed to me that the voice of the mountain, re-echoing, repeated +that sinister last line to infinity: + +"And the seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown +away." + +"Here it is," said the Targa. + +A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. +We followed him. The darkness closed around us. + +A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a +pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The +smoke blinded us. + +Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave. He was +seated and, more inscrutible than ever, had begun again to blow great +puffs of gray smoke from his pipe. + +The burning brush cast a flickering light. I caught a glimpse of +Morhange. He seemed very pale. With both hands braced against the +wall, he was working to decipher a mass of signs which I could +scarcely distinguish. + +Nevertheless, I thought I could see his hands trembling. + +"The devil," I thought, finding it more and more difficult to +co-ordinate my thoughts, "he seems to be as unstrung as I." + +I heard him call out to Eg-Anteouen in what seemed to me a loud voice: + +"Stand to one side. Let the air in. What a smoke!" + +He kept on working at the signs. + +Suddenly I heard him again, but with difficulty. It seemed as if even +sounds were confused in the smoke. + +"Antinea ... At last ... Antinea. But not cut in the rock ... the +marks traced in ochre ... not ten years old, perhaps not five.... +Oh!...." + +He pressed his hands to his head. Again he cried out: + +"It is a mystery. A tragic mystery." + +I laughed teasingly. + +"Come on, come on. Don't get excited over it." + +He took me by the arm and shook me. I saw his eyes big with terror and +astonishment. + +"Are you mad?" he yelled in my face. + +"Not so loud," I replied with the same little laugh. + +He looked at me again, and sank down, overcome, on a rock opposite me. +Eg-Anteouen was still smoking placidly at the mouth of the cave. We +could see the red circle of his pipe glowing in the darkness. + +"Madman! Madman!" repeated Morhange. His voice seemed to stick in his +throat. + +Suddenly he bent over the brush which was giving its last darts of +flame, high and clear. He picked out a branch which had not yet +caught. I saw him examine it carefully, then throw it back in the fire +with a loud laugh. + +"Ha! Ha! That's good, all right!" + +He staggered toward Eg-Anteouen, pointing to the fire. + +"It's hemp. Hasheesh, hasheesh. Oh, that's a good one, all right." + +"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter. + +Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his +inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes. + +A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm. + +"I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave +him one. + +"What! A European pipe?" + +"A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer. + +"With an initial, 'M.' As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange." + +"Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly. + +"Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange. + +We laughed again. + +"Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of +Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson." + +"It was Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," repeated the Targa with imperturbable +calm. + +"Captain Masson and Colonel Flatters had left the convoy to look for +the well," said Morhange, laughing. + +"It was then that the Tuareg attacked them," I finished, laughing as +hard as I could. + +"A Targa of Ahagga seized the bridle of Captain Masson's horse," said +Morhange. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had hold of Colonel Flatters' bridle," put in +Eg-Anteouen. + +"The Colonel puts his foot in the stirrup and receives a cut from +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's saber," I said. + +"Captain Masson draws his revolver and fires on Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +shooting off three fingers of his left hand," said Morhange. + +"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull.".. + +He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up +his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in +his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I +had not noticed that before. + +Morhange also noticed it, for he finished with a loud laugh. + +"Then, after splitting his skull, you robbed him. You took his pipe +from him. Bravo, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh!" + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh does not reply, but I can see how satisfied with +himself he is. He keeps on smoking. I can hardly see his features now. +The firelight pales, dies. I have never laughed so much as this +evening. I am sure Morhange never has, either. Perhaps he will forget +the cloister. And all because Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh stole Captain +Masson's pipe.... + +Again that accursed song. "The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has +flown away." One cannot imagine more senseless words. It is very +strange, really: there seem to be four of us in this cave now. Four, I +say, five, six, seven, eight.... Make yourselves at home, my friends. +What! there are no more of you?... I am going to find out at last how +the spirits of this region are made, the _Gamphasantes_, the +_Blemyens_.... Morhange says that the _Blemyens_ have their faces on +the middle of their chests. Surely this one who is seizing me in his +arms is not a _Blemyen_! Now he is carrying me outside. And Morhange +... I do not want them to forget Morhange.... + +They did not forget him; I see him perched on a camel in front of that +one to which I am fastened. They did well to fasten me, for otherwise +I surely would tumble off. These spirits certainly are not bad +fellows. But what a long way it is! I want to stretch out. To sleep. A +while ago we surely were following a long passage, then we were in the +open air. Now we are again in an endless stifling corridor. Here are +the stars again.... Is this ridiculous course going to keep on?... + +Hello, lights! Stars, perhaps. No, lights, I say. A stairway, on my +word; of rocks, to be sure, but still, a stairway. How can the +camels...? But it is no longer a camel; this is a man carrying me. A +man dressed in white, not a _Gamphasante_ nor a _Blemyen_. Morhange +must be giving himself airs with his historical reasoning, all false, +I repeat, all false. Good Morhange. Provided that his _Gamphasante_ +does not let him fall on this unending stairway. Something glitters on +the ceiling. Yes, it is a lamp, a copper lamp, as at Tunis, at +Barbouchy's. Good, here again you cannot see anything. But I am making +a fool of myself; I am lying down; now I can go to sleep. What a silly +day!... Gentlemen, I assure you that it is unnecessary to bind me: I +do not want to go down on the boulevards. + +Darkness again. Steps of someone going away. Silence. + +But only for a moment. Someone is talking beside me. What are they +saying?... No, it is impossible. That metallic ring, that voice. Do +you know what it is calling, that voice, do you know what it is +calling in the tones of someone used to the phrase? Well, it is +calling: + +"Play your cards, gentlemen, play your cards. There are ten thousand +_louis_ in the bank. Play your cards, gentlemen." + +In the name of God, am I or am I not at Ahaggar? + + + + +VIII + +AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR + + +It was broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I thought at once of +Morhange. I could not see him, but I heard him, close by, giving +little grunts of surprise. + +I called to him. He ran to me. + +"Then they didn't tie you up?" I asked. + +"I beg your pardon. They did. But they did it badly; I managed to get +free." + +"You might have untied me, too," I remarked crossly. + +"What good would it have done? I should only have waked you up. And I +thought that your first word would be to call me. There, that's done." + +I reeled as I tried to stand on my feet. + +Morhange smiled. + +"We might have spent the whole night smoking and drinking and not been +in a worse state," he said. "Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his +hasheesh is a fine rascal." + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected. + +I rubbed my hand over my forehead. + +"Where are we?" + +"My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the +extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the +lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from +surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion. Just look around +you." + +I rubbed my eyes and stared. Then I seized my friend's hand. + +"Morhange," I begged, "tell me if we are still dreaming." + +We were in a round room, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and of about +the same height, lighted by a great window opening on a sky of intense +blue. + +Swallows flew back and forth, outside, giving quick, joyous cries. + +The floor, the incurving walls and the ceiling were of a kind of +veined marble like porphyry, panelled with a strange metal, paler than +gold, darker than silver, clouded just then by the early morning mist +that came in through the window in great puffs. + +I staggered toward this window, drawn by the freshness of the breeze +and the sunlight which was chasing away my dreams, and I leaned my +elbows on the balustrade. + +I could not restrain a cry of delight. + +I was standing on a kind of balcony, cut into the flank of a mountain, +overhanging an abyss. Above me, blue sky; below appeared a veritable +earthly paradise hemmed in on all sides by mountains that formed a +continuous and impassable wall about it. A garden lay spread out down +there. The palm trees gently swayed their great fronds. At their feet +was a tangle of the smaller trees which grow in an oasis under their +protection: almonds, lemons, oranges, and many others which I could +not distinguish from that height. A broad blue stream, fed by a +waterfall, emptied into a charming lake, the waters of which had the +marvellous transparency which comes in high altitudes. Great birds +flew in circles over this green hollow; I could see in the lake the +red flash of a flamingo. + +The peaks of the mountains which towered on all sides were completely +covered with snow. + +The blue stream, the green palms, the golden fruit, and above it all, +the miraculous snow, all this bathed in that limpid air, gave such an +impression of beauty, of purity, that my poor human strength could no +longer stand the sight of it. I laid my forehead on the balustrade, +which, too, was covered with that heavenly snow, and began to cry like +a baby. + +Morhange was behaving like another child. But he had awakened before I +had, and doubtless had had time to grasp, one by one, all these +details whose fantastic _ensemble_ staggered me. + +He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back into the +room. + +"You haven't seen anything yet," he said. "Look! Look!" + +"Morhange!" + +"Well, old man, what do you want me to do about it? Look!" + +I had just realized that the strange room was furnished--God forgive +me--in the European fashion. There were indeed, here and there, round +leather Tuareg cushions, brightly colored blankets from Gafsa, rugs +from Kairouan, and Caramani hangings which, at that moment, I should +have dreaded to draw aside. But a half-open panel in the wall showed a +bookcase crowded with books. A whole row of photographs of +masterpieces of ancient art were hung on the walls. Finally there was +a table almost hidden under its heap of papers, pamphlets, books. I +thought I should collapse at seeing a recent number of the +_Archaeological Review_. + +I looked at Morhange. He was looking at me, and suddenly a mad laugh +seized us and doubled us up for a good minute. + +"I do not know," Morhange finally managed to say, "whether or not we +shall regret some day our little excursion into Ahaggar. But admit, in +the meantime, that it promises to be rich in unexpected adventures. +That unforgettable guide who puts us to sleep just to distract us +from the unpleasantness of caravan life and who lets me experience, in +the best of good faith, the far-famed delights of hasheesh: that +fantastic night ride, and, to cap the climax, this cave of a Nureddin +who must have received the education of the Athenian Bersot at the +French _Ecole Normale_--all this is enough, on my word, to upset the +wits of the best balanced." + +"What do I think, my poor friend? Why, just what you yourself think. I +don't understand it at all, not at all. What you politely call my +learning is not worth a cent. And why shouldn't I be all mixed up? +This living in caves amazes me. Pliny speaks of the natives living in +caves, seven days' march southwest of the country of the Amantes, and +twelve days to the westward of the great Syrte. Herodotus says also +that the Garamentes used to go out in their chariots to hunt the +cave-dwelling Ethopians. But here we are in Ahaggar, in the midst of +the Targa country, and the best authorities tell us that the Tuareg +never have been willing to live in caves. Duveyrier is precise on that +point. And what is this, I ask you, but a cave turned into a workroom, +with pictures of the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Sauroctone on the +walls? I tell you that it is enough to drive you mad." + +And Morhange threw himself on a couch and began to roar with laughter +again. + +"See," I said, "this is Latin." + +I had picked up several scattered papers from the work-table in the +middle of the room. Morhange took them from my hands and devoured them +greedily. His face expressed unbounded stupefaction. + +"Stranger and stranger, my boy. Someone here is composing, with much +citation of texts, a dissertation on the Gorgon Islands: _de Gorgonum +insulis_. Medusa, according to him, was a Libyan savage who lived near +Lake Triton, our present Chott Melhrir, and it is there that Perseus +... Ah!" + +Morhange's words choked in his throat. A sharp, shrill voice pierced +the immense room. + +"Gentlemen, I beg you, let my papers alone." + +I turned toward the newcomer. + +One of the Caramani curtains was drawn aside, and the most unexpected +of persons came in. Resigned as we were to unexpected events, the +improbability of this sight exceeded anything our imaginations could +have devised. + +On the threshold stood a little bald-headed man with a pointed sallow +face half hidden by an enormous pair of green spectacles and a pepper +and salt beard. No shirt was visible, but an impressive broad red +cravat. He wore white trousers. Red leather slippers furnished the +only Oriental suggestion of his costume. + +He wore, not without pride, the rosette of an officer of the +Department of Education. + +He collected the papers which Morhange had dropped in his amazement, +counted them, arranged them; then, casting a peevish glance at us, he +struck a copper gong. + +The portiére was raised again. A huge white Targa entered. I seemed to +recognize him as one of the genii of the cave.[8] + +[Footnote 8: The Negro serfs among the Tuareg are generally called +"white Tuareg." While the nobles are clad in blue cotton robes, the +serfs wear white robes, hence their name of "white Tuareg." See, in +this connection, Duveyrier: _les Tuareg du Nord_, page 292. (Note by +M. Leroux.)] + +"Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of +Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?" + +The Targa bowed respectfully. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, +"and last night the embalmers had not yet finished. They brought them +here in the meantime," and he pointed to us. + +"Very well, you may go," snapped the little man. + +Ferradji backed toward the door. On the threshold, he stopped and +spoke again: + +"I was to remind you, sir, that dinner is served." + +"All right. Go along." + +And the little man seated himself at the desk and began to finger the +papers feverishly. + +I do not know why, but a mad feeling of exasperation seized me. I +walked toward him. + +"Sir," I said, "my friend and I do not know where we are nor who you +are. We can see only that you are French, since you are wearing one of +the highest honorary decorations of our country. You may have made the +same observation on your part," I added, indicating the slender red +ribbon which I wore on my vest. + +He looked at me in contemptuous surprise. + +"Well, sir?" + +"Well, sir, the Negro who just went out pronounced the name of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, the name of a brigand, a bandit, one of the +assassins of Colonel Flatters. Are you acquainted with that detail, +sir?" + +The little man surveyed me coldly and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Certainly. But what difference do you suppose that makes to me?" + +"What!" I cried, beside myself with rage. "Who are you, anyway?" + +"Sir," said the little old man with comical dignity, turning to +Morhange, "I call you to witness the strange manners of your +companion. I am here in my own house and I do not allow...." + +"You must excuse my comrade, sir," said Morhange, stepping forward. +"He is not a man of letters, as you are. These young lieutenants are +hot-headed, you know. And besides, you can understand why both of us +are not as calm as might be desired." + +I was furious and on the point of disavowing these strangely humble +words of Morhange. But a glance showed me that there was as much irony +as surprise in his expression. + +"I know indeed that most officers are brutes," grumbled the little old +man. "But that is no reason...." + +"I am only an officer myself," Morhange went on, in an even humbler +tone, "and if ever I have been sensible to the intellectual +inferiority of that class, I assure you that it was now in glancing--I +beg your pardon for having taken the liberty to do so--in glancing +over the learned pages which you devote to the passionate story of +Medusa, according to Procles of Carthage, cited by Pausanias." + +A laughable surprise spread over the features of the little old man. +He hastily wiped his spectacles. + +"What!" he finally cried. + +"It is indeed unfortunate, in this matter," Morhange continued +imperturbably, "that we are not in possession of the curious +dissertation devoted to this burning question by Statius Sebosus, a +work which we know only through Pliny and which...." + +"You know Statius Sebosus?" + +"And which, my master, the geographer Berlioux...." + +"You knew Berlioux--you were his pupil?" stammered the little man with +the decoration. + +"I have had that honor," replied Morhange, very coldly. + +"But, but, sir, then you have heard mentioned, you are familiar with +the question, the problem of Atlantis?" + +"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois +de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly. + +"My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. +"Sir--Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...." + +Just then, the portiére was raised. Ferradji appeared again. + +"Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin +without you." + +"I am coming, I am coming. Say, Ferradji, that we will be there in a +moment. Why, sir, if I had foreseen ... It is extraordinary ... to +find an officer who knows Procles of Carthage and Arbois de +Jubainville. Again ... But I must introduce myself. I am Etienne Le +Mesge, Fellow of the University." + +"Captain Morhange," said my companion. + +I stepped forward in my turn. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit. It is a fact, sir, that I am very likely to +confuse Arbois of Carthage with Procles de Jubainville. Later, I shall +have to see about filling up those gaps. But just now, I should like +to know where we are, if we are free, and if not, what occult power +holds us. You have the appearance, sir, of being sufficiently at home +in this house to be able to enlighten us upon this point, which I must +confess, I weakly consider of the first importance." + +M. Le Mesge looked at me. A rather malevolent smile twitched the +corners of his mouth. He opened his lips.... + +A gong sounded impatiently. + +"In good time, gentlemen, I will tell you. I will explain +everything.... But now you see that we must hurry. It is time for +lunch and our fellow diners will get tired of waiting." + +"Our fellow diners?" + +"There are two of them," M. Le Mesge explained. "We three constitute +the European personnel of the house, that is, the fixed personnel," he +seemed to feel obliged to add, with his disquieting smile. "Two +strange fellows, gentlemen, with whom, doubtless, you will care to +have as little to do as possible. One is a churchman, narrow-minded, +though a Protestant. The other is a man of the world gone astray, an +old fool." + +"Pardon," I said, "but it must have been he whom I heard last night. +He was gambling: with you and the minister, doubtless?" + +M. Le Mesge made a gesture of offended dignity. + +"The idea! With me, sir? It is with the Tuareg that he plays. He +teaches them every game imaginable. There, that is he who is striking +the gong to hurry us up. It is half past nine, and the _Salle de +Trente et Quarante_ opens at ten o'clock. Let us hurry. I suppose that +anyway you will not be averse to a little refreshment." + +"Indeed we shall not refuse," Morhange replied. + +We followed M. Le Mesge along a long winding corridor with frequent +steps. The passage was dark. But at intervals rose-colored night +lights and incense burners were placed in niches cut into the solid +rock. The passionate Oriental scents perfumed the darkness and +contrasted strangely with the cold air of the snowy peaks. + +From time to time, a white Targa, mute and expressionless as a +phantom, would pass us and we would hear the clatter of his slippers +die away behind us. + +M. Le Mesge stopped before a heavy door covered with the same pale +metal which I had noticed on the walls of the library. He opened it +and stood aside to let us pass. + +Although the dining room which we entered had little in common with +European dining rooms, I have known many which might have envied its +comfort. Like the library, it was lighted by a great window. But I +noticed that it had an outside exposure, while that of the library +overlooked the garden in the center of the crown of mountains. + +No center table and none of those barbaric pieces of furniture that we +call chairs. But a great number of buffet tables of gilded wood, like +those of Venice, heavy hangings of dull and subdued colors, and +cushions, Tuareg or Tunisian. In the center was a huge mat on which a +feast was placed in finely woven baskets among silver pitchers and +copper basins filled with perfumed water. The sight of it filled me +with childish satisfaction. + +M. Le Mesge stepped forward and introduced us to the two persons who +already had taken their places on the mat. + +"Mr. Spardek," he said; and by that simple phrase I understood how far +our host placed himself above vain human titles. + +The Reverend Mr. Spardek, of Manchester, bowed reservedly and asked +our permission to keep on his tall, wide-brimmed hat. He was a dry, +cold man, tall and thin. He ate in pious sadness, enormously. + +"Monsieur Bielowsky," said M. Le Mesge, introducing us to the second +guest. + +"Count Casimir Bielowsky, Hetman of Jitomir," the latter corrected +with perfect good humor as he stood up to shake hands. + +I felt at once a certain liking for the Hetman of Jitomir who was a +perfect example of an old beau. His chocolate-colored hair was parted +in the center (later I found out that the Hetman dyed it with a +concoction of _khol_). He had magnificent whiskers, also +chocolate-colored, in the style of the Emperor Francis Joseph. His +nose was undeniably a little red, but so fine, so aristocratic. His +hands were marvelous. It took some thought to place the date of the +style of the count's costume, bottle green with yellow facings, +ornamented with a huge seal of silver and enamel. The recollection of +a portrait of the Duke de Morny made me decide on 1860 or 1862; and +the further chapters of this story will show that I was not far wrong. + +The count made me sit down beside him. One of his first questions was +to demand if I ever cut fives.[9] + +[Footnote 9: _Tirer à cinq_, a card game played only for very high +stakes.] + +"That depends on how I feel," I replied. + +"Well said. I have not done so since 1866. I swore off. A row. The +devil of a party. One day at Walewski's. I cut fives. Naturally I +wasn't worrying any. The other had a four. 'Idiot!' cried the little +Baron de Chaux Gisseux who was laying staggering sums on my table. I +hurled a bottle of champagne at his head. He ducked. It was Marshal +Baillant who got the bottle. A scene! The matter was fixed up because +we were both Free Masons. The Emperor made me promise not to cut fives +again. I have kept my promise not to cut fives again. I have kept my +promise. But there are moments when it is hard...." + +He added in a voice steeped in melancholy: + +"Try a little of this Ahaggar 1880. Excellent vintage. It is I, +Lieutenant, who instructed these people in the uses of the juice of +the vine. The vine of the palm trees is very good when it is properly +fermented, but it gets insipid in the long run." + +It was powerful, that Ahaggar 1880. We sipped it from large silver +goblets. It was fresh as Rhine wine, dry as the wine of the Hermitage. +And then, suddenly, it brought back recollections of the burning wines +of Portugal; it seemed sweet, fruity, an admirable wine, I tell you. + +That wine crowned the most perfect of luncheons. There were few meats, +to be sure; but those few were remarkably seasoned. Profusion of +cakes, pancakes served with honey, fragrant fritters, cheese-cakes of +sour milk and dates. And everywhere, in great enamel platters or +wicker jars, fruit, masses of fruit, figs, dates, pistachios, jujubes, +pomegranates, apricots, huge bunches of grapes, larger than those +which bent the shoulders of the Hebrews in the land of Canaan, heavy +watermelons cut in two, showing their moist, red pulp and their rows +of black seeds. + +I had scarcely finished one of these beautiful iced fruits, when M. Le +Mesge rose. + +"Gentlemen, if you are ready," he said to Morhange and me. + +"Get away from that old dotard as soon as you can," whispered the +Hetman of Jitomir to me. "The party of _Trente et Quarante_ will begin +soon. You shall see. You shall see. We go it even harder than at Cora +Pearl's." + +"Gentlemen," repeated M. Le Mesge in his dry tone. + +We followed him. When the three of us were back again in the library, +he said, addressing me: + +"You, sir, asked a little while ago what occult power holds you here. +Your manner was threatening, and I should have refused to comply had +it not been for your friend, whose knowledge enables him to appreciate +better than you the value of the revelations I am about to make to +you." + +He touched a spring in the side of the wall. A cupboard appeared, +stuffed with books. He took one. + +"You are both of you," continued M. Le Mesge, "in the power of a +woman. This woman, the sultaness, the queen, the absolute sovereign of +Ahaggar, is called Antinea. Don't start, M. Morhange, you will soon +understand." + +He opened the book and read this sentence: + +"'I must warn you before I take up the subject matter: do not be +surprised to hear me call the barbarians by Greek names.'" + +"What is that book?" stammered Morhange, whose pallor terrified me. + +"This book," M. Le Mesge replied very slowly, weighing his words, with +an extraordinary expression of triumph, "is the greatest, the most +beautiful, the most secret, of the dialogues of Plato; it is the +Critias of Atlantis." + +"The Critias? But it is unfinished," murmured Morhange. + +"It is unfinished in France, in Europe, everywhere else," said M. Le +Mesge, "but it is finished here. Look for yourself at this copy." + +"But what connection," repeated Morhange, while his eyes traveled +avidly over the pages, "what connection can there be between this +dialogue, complete,--yes, it seems to me complete--what connection +with this woman, Antinea? Why should it be in her possession?" + +"Because," replied the little man imperturbably, "this book is her +patent of nobility, her _Almanach de Gotha_, in a sense, do you +understand? Because it established her prodigious genealogy: because +she is...." + +"Because she is?" repeated Morhange. + +"Because she is the grand daughter of Neptune, the last descendant of +the Atlantides." + + + + +IX + +ATLANTIS + + +M. Le Mesge looked at Morhange triumphantly. It was evident that he +addressed himself exclusively to Morhange, considering him alone +worthy of his confidences. + +"There have been many, sir," he said, "both French and foreign +officers who have been brought here at the caprice of our sovereign, +Antinea. You are the first to be honored by my disclosures. But you +were the pupil of Berlioux, and I owe so much to the memory of that +great man that it seems to me I may do him homage by imparting to one +of his disciples the unique results of my private research." + +He struck the bell. Ferradji appeared. + +"Coffee for these gentlemen," ordered M. Le Mesge. + +He handed us a box, gorgeously decorated in the most flaming colors, +full of Egyptian cigarettes. + +"I never smoke," he explained. "But Antinea sometimes comes here. +These are her cigarettes. Help yourselves, gentlemen." + +I have always had a horror of that pale tobacco which gives a barber +of the Rue de la Michodière the illusion of oriental voluptuousness. +But, in their way, these musk-scented cigarettes were not bad, and it +was a long time since I had used up my stock of Caporal. + +"Here are the back numbers of _Le Vie Parisienne_" said M. Le Mesge +to me. "Amuse yourself with them, if you like, while I talk to your +friend." + +"Sir," I replied brusquely, "it is true that I never studied with +Berlioux. Nevertheless, you must allow me to listen to your +conversation: I shall hope to find something in it to amuse me." + +"As you wish," said the little old man. + +We settled ourselves comfortably. M. Le Mesge sat down before the +desk, shot his cuffs, and commenced as follows: + +"However much, gentlemen, I prize complete objectivity in matters of +erudition, I cannot utterly detach my own history from that of the +last descendant of Clito and Neptune. + +"I am the creation of my own efforts. From my childhood, the +prodigious impulse given to the science of history by the nineteenth +century has affected me. I saw where my way led. I have followed it, +in spite of everything. + +"In spite of everything, everything--I mean it literally. With no +other resources than my own work and merit, I was received as Fellow +of History and Geography at the examination of 1880. A great +examination! Among the thirteen who were accepted there were names +which have since become illustrious: Julian, Bourgeois, Auerbach.... I +do not envy my colleagues on the summits of their official honors; I +read their works with commiseration; and the pitiful errors to which +they are condemned by the insufficiency of their documents would amply +counterbalance my chagrin and fill me with ironic joy, had I not been +raised long since above the satisfaction of self-love. + +"When I was Professor at the Lycée du Parc at Lyons. I knew Berlioux +and followed eagerly his works on African History. I had, at that +time, a very original idea for my doctor's thesis. I was going to +establish a parallel between the Berber heroine of the seventh +century, who struggled against the Arab invader, Kahena, and the +French heroine, Joan of Arc, who struggled against the English +invader. I proposed to the _Faculté des Lettres_ at Paris this title +for my thesis: _Joan of Arc and the Tuareg_. This simple announcement +gave rise to a perfect outcry in learned circles, a furor of +ridicule. My friends warned me discreetly. I refused to believe them. +Finally I was forced to believe when my rector summoned me before him +and, after manifesting an astonishing interest in my health, asked +whether I should object to taking two years' leave on half pay. I +refused indignantly. The rector did not insist; but fifteen days +later, a ministerial decree, with no other legal procedure, assigned +me to one of the most insignificant and remote Lycées of France, at +Mont-de-Marsan. + +"Realize my exasperation and you will excuse the excesses to which I +delivered myself in that strange country. What is there to do in +Landes, if you neither eat nor drink? I did both violently. My pay +melted away in _fois gras_, in woodcocks, in fine wines. The result +came quickly enough: in less than a year my joints began to crack like +the over-oiled axle of a bicycle that has gone a long way upon a dusty +track. A sharp attack of gout nailed me to my bed. Fortunately, in +that blessed country, the cure is in reach of the suffering. So I +departed to Dax, at vacation time, to try the waters. + +"I rented a room on the bank of the Adour, overlooking the _Promenade +des Baignots_. A charwoman took care of it for me. She worked also for +an old gentleman, a retired Examining Magistrate, President of the +Roger-Ducos Society, which was a vague scientific backwater, in which +the scholars of the neighborhood applied themselves with prodigious +incompetence to the most whimsical subjects. One afternoon I stayed in +my room on account of a very heavy rain. The good woman was +energetically polishing the copper latch of my door. She used a paste +called Tripoli, which she spread upon a paper and rubbed and +rubbed.... The peculiar appearance of the paper made me curious. I +glanced at it. 'Great heavens! Where did you get this paper?' She was +perturbed. 'At my master's; he has lots of it. I tore this out of a +notebook.' 'Here are ten francs. Go and get me the notebook.' + +"A quarter of an hour later, she was back with it. By good luck it +lacked only one page, the one with which she had been polishing my +door. This manuscript, this notebook, have you any idea what it was? +Merely the _Voyage to Atlantis_ of the mythologist Denis de Milet, +which is mentioned by Diodorus and the loss of which I had so often +heard Berlioux deplore.[10] + +[Footnote 10: How did the _Voyage to Atlantis_ arrive at Dax? I have +found, so far, only one credible hypothesis: it might have been +discovered in Africa by the traveller, de Behagle, a member of the +Roger-Ducos Society, who studied at the college of Dax, and later, on +several occasions, visited the town. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"This inestimable document contained numerous quotations from the +Critias. It gave an abstract of the illustrious dialogue, the sole +existing copy of which you held in your hands a little while ago. It +established past controversy the location of the stronghold of the +Atlantides, and demonstrated that this site, which is denied by +science, was not submerged by the waves, as is supposed by the rare +and timorous defenders of the Atlantide hypothesis. He called it the +'central Mazycian range,' You know there is no longer any doubt as to +the identification of the Mazyces of Herodotus with the people of +Imoschaoch, the Tuareg. But the manuscript of Denys unquestionably +identifies the historical Mazyces with the Atlantides of the supposed +legend. + +"I learned, therefore, from Denys, not only that the central part of +Atlantis, the cradle and home of the dynasty of Neptune, had not sunk +in the disaster described by Plato as engulfing the rest of the +Atlantide isle, but also that it corresponded to the Tuareg Ahaggar, +and that, in this Ahaggar, at least in his time, the noble dynasty of +Neptune was supposed to be still existent. + +"The historians of Atlantis put the date of the cataclysm which +destroyed all or part of that famous country at nine thousand years +before Christ. If Denis de Milet, who wrote scarcely three thousand +years ago, believed that in his time, the dynastic issue of Neptune +was still ruling its dominion, you will understand that I thought +immediately--what has lasted nine thousand years may last eleven +thousand. From that instant I had only one aim: to find the possible +descendants of the Atlantides, and, since I had many reasons for +supposing them to be debased and ignorant of their original splendor, +to inform them of their illustrious descent. + +"You will easily understand that I imparted none of my intentions to +my superiors at the University. To solicit their approval or even +their permission, considering the attitude they had taken toward me, +would have been almost certainly to invite confinement in a cell. So I +raised what I could on my own account, and departed without trumpet or +drum for Oran. On the first of October I reached In-Salah. Stretched +at my ease beneath a palm tree, at the oasis, I took infinite pleasure +in considering how, that very day, the principal of Mont-de-Marsan, +beside himself, struggling to control twenty horrible urchins howling +before the door of an empty class room, would be telegraphing wildly +in all directions in search of his lost history professor." + +M. Le Mesge stopped and looked at us to mark his satisfaction. + +I admit that I forgot my dignity and I forgot the affectation he had +steadily assumed of talking only to Morhange. + +"You will pardon me, sir, if your discourse interests me more than I +had anticipated. But you know very well that I lack the fundamental +instruction necessary to understand you. You speak of the dynasty of +Neptune. What is this dynasty, from which, I believe, you trace the +descent of Antinea? What is her rôle in the story of Atlantis?" + +M. Le Mesge smiled with condescension, meantime winking at Morhange +with the eye nearest to him. Morhange was listening without +expression, without a word, chin in hand, elbow on knee. + +"Plato will answer for me, sir," said the Professor. + +And he added, with an accent of inexpressible pity: + +"Is it really possible that you have never made the acquaintance of +the introduction to the Critias?" + +He placed on the table the book by which Morhange had been so +strangely moved. He adjusted his spectacles and began to read. It +seemed as if the magic of Plato vibrated through and transfigured this +ridiculous little old man. + +"'Having drawn by lot the different parts of the earth, the gods +obtained, some a larger, and some, a smaller share. It was thus that +Neptune, having received in the division the isle of Atlantis, came to +place the children he had had by a mortal in one part of that isle. +It was not far from the sea, a plain situated in the midst of the +isle, the most beautiful, and, they say, the most fertile of plains. +About fifty stades from that plain, in the middle of the isle, was a +mountain. There dwelt one of those men who, in the very beginning, was +born of the Earth, Evenor, with his wife, Leucippe. They had only one +daughter, Clito. She was marriageable when her mother and father died, +and Neptune, being enamored of her, married her. Neptune fortified the +mountain where she dwelt by isolating it. He made alternate girdles of +sea and land, the one smaller, the others greater, two of earth and +three of water, and centered them round the isle in such a manner that +they were at all parts equally distant!..." + +M. Le Mesge broke off his reading. + +"Does this arrangement recall nothing to you?" he queried. + +"Morhange, Morhange!" I stammered. "You remember--our route yesterday, +our abduction, the two corridors that we had to cross before arriving +at this mountain?... The girdles of earth and of water?... Two +tunnels, two enclosures of earth?" + +"Ha! Ha!" chuckled M. Le Mesge. + +He smiled as he looked at me. I understood that this smile meant: "Can +he be less obtuse than I had supposed?" + +As if with a mighty effort, Morhange broke the silence. + +"I understand well enough, I understand.... The three girdles of +water.... But then, you are supposing, sir,--an explanation the +ingeniousness of which I do not contest--you are supposing the exact +hypothesis of the Saharan sea!" + +"I suppose it, and I can prove it," replied the irascible little old +chap, banging his fist on the table. "I know well enough what Schirmer +and the rest have advanced against it. I know it better than you do. I +know all about it, sir. I can present all the proofs for your +consideration. And in the meantime, this evening at dinner, you will +no doubt enjoy some excellent fish. And you will tell me if these +fish, caught in the lake that you can see from this window, seem to +you fresh water fish. + +"You must realize," he continued, "the mistake of those who, believing +in Atlantis, have sought to explain the cataclysm in which they +suppose the island to have sunk. Without exception, they have thought +that it was swallowed up. Actually, there has not been an immersion. +There has been an emersion. New lands have emerged from the Atlantic +wave. The desert has replaced the sea, the _sebkhas_, the salt lakes, +the Triton lakes, the sandy Syrtes are the desolate vestiges of the +free sea water over which, in former days, the fleets swept with a +fair wind towards the conquest of Attica. Sand swallows up +civilization better than water. To-day there remains nothing of the +beautiful isle that the sea and winds kept gay and verdant but this +chalky mass. Nothing has endured in this rocky basin, cut off forever +from the living world, but the marvelous oasis that you have at your +feet, these red fruits, this cascade, this blue lake, sacred witnesses +to the golden age that is gone. Last evening, in coming here, you had +to cross the five enclosures: the three belts of water, dry forever; +the two girdles of earth through which are hollowed the passages you +traversed on camel back, where, formerly, the triremes floated. The +only thing that, in this immense catastrophe, has preserved its +likeness to its former state, is this mountain, the mountain where +Neptune shut up his well-beloved Clito, the daughter of Evenor and +Leucippe, the mother of Atlas, and the ancestress of Antinea, the +sovereign under whose dominion you are about to enter forever." + +"Sir," Morhange with the most exquisite courtesy, "it would be only a +natural anxiety which would urge us to inquire the reasons and the end +of this dominion. But behold to what extent your revelation interests +me; I defer this question of private interest. Of late, in two +caverns, it has been my fortune to discover Tifinar inscriptions of +this name, Antinea. My comrade is witness that I took it for a Greek +name. I understand now, thanks to you and the divine Plato, that I +need no longer feel surprised to hear a barbarian called by a Greek +name. But I am no less perplexed as to the etymology of the word. Can +you enlighten me?" + +"I shall certainly not fail you there, sir," said M. Le Mesge. "I may +tell you, too, that you are not the first to put to me that question. +Most of the explorers that I have seen enter here in the past ten +years have been attracted in the same way, intrigued by this Greek +work reproduced in Tifinar. I have even arranged a fairly exact +catalogue of these inscriptions and the caverns where they are to be +met with. All, or almost all, are accompanied by this legend: +_Antinea. Here commences her domain_. I myself have had repainted with +ochre such as were beginning to be effaced. But, to return to what I +was telling you before, none of the Europeans who have followed this +epigraphic mystery here, have kept their anxiety to solve this +etymology once they found themselves in Antinea's palace. They all +become otherwise preoccupied. I might make many disclosures as to the +little real importance which purely scientific interests possess even +for scholars, and the quickness with which they sacrifice them to the +most mundane considerations--their own lives, for instance." + +"Let us take that up another time, sir, if it is satisfactory to you," +said Morhange, always admirably polite. + +"This digression had only one point, sir: to show you that I do not +count you among these unworthy scholars. You are really eager to know +the origin of this name, _Antinea_, and that before knowing what kind +of woman it belongs to and her motives for holding you and this +gentleman as her prisoners." + +I stared hard at the little old man. But he spoke with profound +seriousness. + +"So much the better for you, my boy," I thought. "Otherwise it +wouldn't have taken me long to send you through the window to air your +ironies at your ease. The law of gravity ought not to be topsy-turvy +here at Ahaggar." + +"You, no doubt, formulated several hypotheses when you first +encountered the name, Antinea," continued M. Le Mesge, imperturbable +under my fixed gaze, addressing himself to Morhange. "Would you object +to repeating them to me?" + +"Not at all, sir," said Morhange. + +And, very composedly, he enumerated the etymological suggestions I +have given previously. + +The little man with the cherry-colored shirt front rubbed his hands. + +"Very good," he admitted with an accent of intense jubilation. +"Amazingly good, at least for one with only the modicum of Greek that +you possess. But it is all none the less false, super-false." + +"It is because I suspected as much that I put my question to you," +said Morhange blandly. + +"I will not keep you longer in suspense," said M. Le Mesge. "The word, +Antinea, is composed as follows: _ti_ is nothing but a Tifinar +addition to an essentially Greek name. _Ti_ is the Berber feminine +article. We have several examples of this combination. Take _Tipasa_, +the North African town. The name means the whole, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: nap]. So, _tinea_ signifies the new, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: ea]." + +"And the prefix, _an_?" queried Morhang. + +"Is it possible, sir, that I have put myself to the trouble of talking +to you for a solid hour about the Critias with such trifling effect? +It is certain that the prefix _an_, alone, has no meaning. You will +understand that it has one, when I tell you that we have here a very +curious case of apocope. You must not read _an_; you must read _atlan_. +_Atl_ has been lost, by apocope; _an_ has survived. To sum up, Antinea +is composed in the following manner: [Greek: ti-nea--atl'An]. And its +meaning, _the new Atlantis_, is dazzlingly apparent from this +demonstration." + +I looked at Morhange. His astonishment was without bounds. The Berber +prefix _ti_ had literally stunned him. + +"Have you had occasion, sir, to verify this very ingenious etymology?" +he was finally able to gasp out. + +"You have only to glance over these few books," said M. Le Mesge +disdainfully. + +He opened successively five, ten, twenty cupboards. An enormous +library was spread out to our view. + +"Everything, everything--it is all here," murmured Morhange, with an +astonishing inflection of terror and admiration. + +"Everything that is worth consulting, at any rate," said M. Le Mesge. +"All the great books, whose loss the so-called learned world deplores +to-day." + +"And how has it happened?" + +"Sir, you distress me. I thought you familiar with certain events. You +are forgetting, then, the passage where Pliny the Elder speaks of the +library of Carthage and the treasures which were accumulated there? In +146, when that city fell under the blows of the knave, Scipio, the +incredible collection of illiterates who bore the name of the Roman +Senate had only the profoundest contempt for these riches. They +presented them to the native kings. This is how Mantabal received this +priceless heritage; it was transmitted to his son and grandson, +Hiempsal, Juba I, Juba II, the husband of the admirable Cleopatra +Selene, the daughter of the great Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Cleopatra +Selene had a daughter who married an Atlantide king. This is how +Antinea, the daughter of Neptune, counts among her ancestors the +immortal queen of Egypt. That is how, by following the laws of +inheritance, the remains of the library of Carthage, enriched by the +remnants of the library of Alexandria, are actually before your eyes. + +"Science fled from man. While he was building those monstrous Babels +of pseudo-science in Berlin, London, Paris, Science was taking refuge +in this desert corner of Ahaggar. They may well forge their hypotheses +back there, based on the loss of the mysterious works of antiquity: +these works are not lost. They are here. They are here: the Hebrew, +the Chaldean, the Assyrian books. Here, the great Egyptian traditions +which inspired Solon, Herodotus and Plato. Here, the Greek +mythologists, the magicians of Roman Africa, the Indian mystics, all +the treasures, in a word, for the lack of which contemporary +dissertations are poor laughable things. Believe me, he is well +avenged, the little universitarian whom they took for a madman, whom +they defied. I have lived, I live, I shall live in a perpetual burst +of laughter at their false and garbled erudition. And when I shall be +dead, Error,--thanks to the jealous precaution of Neptune taken to +isolate his well-beloved Clito from the rest of the world,--Error, I +say, will continue to reign as sovereign mistress over their pitiful +compositions." + +"Sir," said Morhange in grave voice, "you have just affirmed the +influence of Egypt on the civilizations of the people here. For +reasons which some day, perhaps, I shall have occasion to explain to +you, I would like to have proof of that relationship." + +"We need not wait for that, sir," said M. Le Mesge. Then, in my turn, +I advanced. + +"Two words, if you please, sir," I said brutally. "I will not hide +from you that these historical discussions seem to me absolutely out +of place. It is not my fault if you have had trouble with the +University, and if you are not to-day at the College of France or +elsewhere. For the moment, just one thing concerns me: to know just +what this lady, Antinea, wants with us. My comrade would like to know +her relation with ancient Egypt: very well. For my part, I desire +above everything to know her relations with the government of Algeria +and the Arabian Bureau." + +M. Le Mesge gave a strident laugh. + +"I am going to give you an answer that will satisfy you both," he +replied. + +And he added: + +"Follow me. It is time that you should learn." + + + + +X + +THE RED MARBLE HALL + + +We passed through an interminable series of stairs and corridors +following M. Le Mesge. + +"You lose all sense of direction in this labyrinth," I muttered to +Morhange. + +"Worse still, you will lose your head," answered my companion _sotto +voce_. "This old fool is certainly very learned; but God knows what he +is driving at. However, he has promised that we are soon to know." + +M. Le Mesge had stopped before a heavy dark door, all incrusted with +strange symbols. Turning the lock with difficulty, he opened it. + +"Enter, gentlemen, I beg you," he said. + +A gust of cold air struck us full in the face. The room we were +entering was chill as a vault. + +At first, the darkness allowed me to form no idea of its proportions. +The lighting, purposely subdued, consisted of twelve enormous copper +lamps, placed column-like upon the ground and burning with brilliant +red flames. As we entered, the wind from the corridor made the flames +flicker, momentarily casting about us our own enlarged and misshapen +shadows. Then the gust died down, and the flames, no longer flurried, +again licked up the darkness with their motionless red tongues. + +These twelve giant lamps (each one about ten feet high) were arranged +in a kind of crown, the diameter of which must have been about fifty +feet. In the center of this circle was a dark mass, all streaked with +trembling red reflections. When I drew nearer, I saw it was a bubbling +fountain. It was the freshness of this water which had maintained the +temperature of which I have spoken. + +Huge seats were cut in the central rock from which gushed the +murmuring, shadowy fountain. They were heaped with silky cushions. +Twelve incense burners, within the circle of red lamps, formed a +second crown, half as large in diameter. Their smoke mounted toward +the vault, invisible in the darkness, but their perfume, combined with +the coolness and sound of the water, banished from the soul all other +desire than to remain there forever. + +M. Le Mesge made us sit down in the center of the hall, on the +Cyclopean seats. He seated himself between us. + +"In a few minutes," he said, "your eyes will grow accustomed to the +obscurity." + +I noticed that he spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were in church. + +Little by little, our eyes did indeed grow used to the red light. Only +the lower part of the great hall was illuminated. The whole vault was +drowned in shadow and its height was impossible to estimate. Vaguely, +I could perceive overhead a great smooth gold chandelier, flecked, +like everything else, with sombre red reflections. But there was no +means of judging the length of the chain by which it hung from the +dark ceiling. + +The marble of the pavement was of so high a polish, that the great +torches were reflected even there. + +This room, I repeat, was round a perfect circle of which the fountain +at our backs was the center. + +We sat facing the curving walls. Before long, we began to be able to +see them. They were of peculiar construction, divided into a series +of niches, broken, ahead of us, by the door which had just opened to +give us passage, behind us, by a second door, a still darker hole +which I divined in the darkness when I turned around. From one door to +the other, I counted sixty niches, making, in all, one hundred and +twenty. Each was about ten feet high. Each contained a kind of case, +larger above than below, closed only at the lower end. In all these +cases, except two just opposite me, I thought I could discern a +brilliant shape, a human shape certainly, something like a statue of +very pale bronze. In the arc of the circle before me, I counted +clearly thirty of these strange statues. + +What were these statues? I wanted to see. I rose. + +M. Le Mesge put his hand on my arm. + +"In good time," he murmured in the same low voice, "all in good time." + +The Professor was watching the door by which we had entered the hall, +and from behind which we could hear the sound of footsteps becoming +more and more distinct. + +It opened quietly to admit three Tuareg slaves. Two of them were +carrying a long package on their shoulders; the third seemed to be +their chief. + +At a sign from him, they placed the package on the ground and drew out +from one of the niches the case which it contained. + +"You may approach, gentlemen," said M. Le Mesge. + +He motioned the three Tuareg to withdraw several paces. + +"You asked me, not long since, for some proof of the Egyptian +influence on this country," said M. Le Mesge. "What do you say to that +case, to begin with?" + +As he spoke, he pointed to the case that the servants had deposited +upon the ground after they took it from its niche. + +Morhange uttered a thick cry. + +We had before us one of those cases designed for the preservation of +mummies. The same shiny wood, the same bright decorations, the only +difference being that here Tifinar writing replaced the hieroglyphics. +The form, narrow at the base, broader above, ought to have been enough +to enlighten us. + +I have already said that the lower half of this large case was +closed, giving the whole structure the appearance of a rectangular +wooden shoe. + +M. Le Mesge knelt and fastened on the lower part of the case, a square +of white cardboard, a large label, that he had picked up from his +desk, a few minutes before, on leaving the library. + +"You may read," he said simply, but still in the same low tone. + +I knelt also, for the light of the great candelabra was scarcely +sufficient to read the label where, none the less, I recognized the +Professor's handwriting. + +It bore these few words, in a large round hand: + +"Number 53. Major Sir Archibald Russell. Born at Richmond, July 5, +1860. Died at Ahaggar, December 3, 1896." + +I leapt to my feet. + +"Major Russell!" I exclaimed. + +"Not so loud, not so loud," said M. Le Mesge. "No one speaks out loud +here." + +"The Major Russell," I repeated, obeying his injunction as if in spite +of myself, "who left Khartoum last year, to explore Sokoto?" + +"The same," replied the Professor. + +"And ... where is Major Russell?" + +"He is there," replied M. Le Mesge. + +The Professor made a gesture. The Tuareg approached. + +A poignant silence reigned in the mysterious hall, broken only by the +fresh splashing of the fountain. + +The three Negroes were occupied in undoing the package that they had +put down near the painted case. Weighed down with wordless horror, +Morhange and I stood watching. + +Soon, a rigid form, a human form, appeared. A red gleam played over +it. We had before us, stretched out upon the ground, a statue of pale +bronze, wrapped in a kind of white veil, a statue like those all +around us, upright in their niches. It seemed to fix us with an +impenetrable gaze. + +"Sir Archibald Russell," murmured M. Le Mesge slowly. + +Morhange approached, speechless, but strong enough to lift up the +white veil. For a long, long time he gazed at the sad bronze statue. + +"A mummy, a mummy?" he said finally. "You deceive yourself, sir, this +is no mummy." + +"Accurately speaking, no," replied M. Le Mesge. "This is not a mummy. +None the less, you have before you the mortal remains of Sir Archibald +Russell. I must point out to you, here, my dear sir, that the +processes of embalming used by Antinea differ from the processes +employed in ancient Egypt. Here, there is no natron, nor bands, nor +spices. The industry of Ahaggar, in a single effort, has achieved a +result obtained by European science only after long experiments. +Imagine my surprise, when I arrived here and found that they were +employing a method I supposed known only to the civilized world." + +M. Le Mesge struck a light tap with his finger on the forehead of Sir +Archibald Russell. It rang like metal. + +"It is bronze," I said. "That is not a human forehead: it is bronze." + +M. Le Mesge shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is a human forehead," he affirmed curtly, "and not bronze. Bronze +is darker, sir. This is the great unknown metal of which Plato speaks +in the Critias, and which is something between gold and silver: it is +the special metal of the mountains of the Atlantides. It is +_orichalch_." + +Bending again, I satisfied myself that this metal was the same as that +with which the walls of the library were overcast. + +"It is orichalch," continued M. Le Mesge. "You look as if you had no +idea how a human body can look like a statue of orichalch. Come, +Captain Morhange, you whom I gave credit for a certain amount of +knowledge, have you never heard of the method of Dr. Variot, by which +a human body can be preserved without embalming? Have you never read +the book of that practitioner?[11] He explains a method called +electro-plating. The skin is coated with a very thin layer of silver +salts, to make it a conductor. The body then is placed in a solution, +of copper sulphate, and the polar currents do their work. The body of +this estimable English major has been metalized in the same manner, +except that a solution of orichalch sulphate, a very rare substance, +has been substituted for that of copper sulphate. Thus, instead of the +statue of a poor slave, a copper statue, you have before you a statue +of metal more precious than silver or gold, in a word, a statue worthy +of the granddaughter of Neptune." + +[Footnote 11: Variot: _L'anthropologie galvanique_. Paris, 1890. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +M. Le Mesge waved his arm. The black slaves seized the body. In a few +seconds, they slid the orichalch ghost into its painted wooden sheath. +That was set on end and slid into its niche, beside the niche where an +exactly similar sheath was labelled "Number 52." + +Upon finishing their task, they retired without a word. A draught of +cold air from the door again made the flames of the copper torches +flicker and threw great shadows about us. + +Morhange and I remained as motionless as the pale metal specters which +surrounded us. Suddenly I pulled myself together and staggered forward +to the niche beside that in which they just had laid the remains of +the English major. I looked for the label. + +Supporting myself against the red marble wall, I read: + +"Number 52. Captain Laurent Deligne. Born at Paris, July 22, 1861. +Died at Ahaggar, October 30, 1896." + +"Captain Deligne!" murmured Morhange. "He left Colomb-Béchar in 1895 +for Timmimoun and no more has been heard of him since then." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge, with a little nod of approval. + +"Number 51," read Morhange with chattering teeth. "Colonel von +Wittman, born at Jena in 1855. Died at Ahaggar, May 1, 1896.... +Colonel Wittman, the explorer of Kanem, who disappeared off Agadès." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. + +"Number 50," I read in my turn, steadying myself against the wall, so +as not to fall. "Marquis Alonzo d'Oliveira, born at Cadiz, February +21, 1868. Died at Ahaggar, February 1, 1896. Oliveira, who was going +to Araouan." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. "That Spaniard was one of the best +educated. I used to have interesting discussions with him on the exact +geographical position of the kingdom of Antée." + +"Number 49," said Morhange in a tone scarcely more than a whisper. +"Lieutenant Woodhouse, born at Liverpool, September 16, 1870. Died at +Ahaggar, October 4, 1895." + +"Hardly more than a child," said M. Le Mesge. + +"Number 48," I said. "Lieutenant Louis de Maillefeu, born at Provins, +the...." + +I did not finish. My voice choked. + +Louis de Maillefeu, my best friend, the friend of my childhood and of +Saint-Cyr.... I looked at him and recognized him under the metallic +coating. Louis de Maillefeu! + +I laid my forehead against the cold wall and, with shaking shoulders, +began to sob. + +I heard the muffled voice of Morhange speaking to the Professor: + +"Sir, this has lasted long enough. Let us make an end of it." + +"He wanted to know," said M. Le Mesge. "What am I to do?" + +I went up to him and seized his shoulders. + +"What happened to him? What did he die of?" + +"Just like the others," the Professor replied, "just like Lieutenant +Woodhouse, like Captain Deligne, like Major Russell, like Colonel von +Wittman, like the forty-seven of yesterday and all those of +to-morrow." + +"Of what did they die?" Morhange demanded imperatively in his turn. + +The Professor looked at Morhange. I saw my comrade grow pale. + +"Of what did they die, sir? _They died of love_." + +And he added in a very low, very grave voice: + +"Now you know." + +Gently and with a tact which we should hardly have suspected in him, +M. Le Mesge drew us away from the statues. A moment later, Morhange +and I found ourselves again seated, or rather sunk among the cushions +in the center of the room. The invisible fountain murmured its plaint +at our feet. + +Le Mesge sat between us. + +"Now you know," he repeated. "You know, but you do not yet +understand." + +Then, very slowly, he said: + +"You are, as they have been, the prisoners of Antinea. And vengeance +is due Antinea." + +"Vengeance?" said Morhange, who had regained his self-possession. "For +what, I beg to ask? What have the lieutenant and I done to Atlantis? +How have we incurred her hatred?" + +"It is an old quarrel, a very old quarrel," the Professor replied +gravely. "A quarrel which long antedates you, M. Morhange." + +"Explain yourself, I beg of you, Professor." + +"You are Man. She is a Woman," said the dreamy voice of M. Le Mesge. +"The whole matter lies there." + +"Really, sir, I do not see ... we do not see." + +"You are going to understand. Have you really forgotten to what an +extent the beautiful queens of antiquity had just cause to complain of +the strangers whom fortune brought to their borders? The poet, Victor +Hugo, pictured their detestable acts well enough in his colonial poem +called _la Fille d'O-Taiti_. Wherever we look, we see similar examples +of fraud and ingratitude. These gentlemen made free use of the beauty +and the riches of the lady. Then, one fine morning, they disappeared. +She was indeed lucky if her lover, having observed the position +carefully, did not return with ships and troops of occupation." + +"Your learning charms me," said Morhange. "Continue." + +"Do you need examples? Alas! they abound. Think of the cavalier +fashion in which Ulysses treated Calypso, Diomedes Callirhoë. What +should I say of Theseus and Ariadne? Jason treated Medea with +inconceivable lightness. The Romans continued the tradition with still +greater brutality. Aenaeus, who has many characteristics in common +with the Reverend Spardek, treated Dido in a most undeserved fashion. +Caesar was a laurel-crowned blackguard in his relations with the +divine Cleopatra. Titus, that hypocrite Titus, after having lived a +whole year in Idummea at the expense of the plaintive Berenice, took +her back to Rome only to make game of her. It is time that the sons of +Japhet paid this formidable reckoning of injuries to the daughters of +Shem. + +"A woman has taken it upon herself to re-establish the great Hegelian +law of equilibrium for the benefit of her sex. Separated from the +Aryan world by the formidable precautions of Neptune, she draws the +youngest and bravest to her. Her body is condescending, while her +spirit is inexorable. She takes what these bold young men can give +her. She lends them her body, while her soul dominates them. She is +the first sovereign who has never been made the slave of passion, even +for a moment. She has never been obliged to regain her self-mastery, +for she never has lost it. She is the only woman who has been able to +disassociate those two inextricable things, love and voluptuousness." + +M. Le Mesge paused a moment and then went on. + +"Once every day, she comes to this vault. She stops before the niches; +she meditates before the rigid statues; she touches the cold bosoms, +so burning when she knew them. Then, after dreaming before the empty +niche where the next victim soon will sleep his eternal sleep in a +cold case of orichalch, she returns nonchalantly where he is waiting +for her." + +The Professor stopped speaking. The fountain again made itself heard +in the midst of the shadow. My pulses beat, my head seemed on fire. A +fever was consuming me. + +"And all of them," I cried, regardless of the place, "all of them +complied! They submitted! Well, she has only to come and she will see +what will happen." + +Morhange was silent. + +"My dear sir," said M. Le Mesge in a very gentle voice, "you are +speaking like a child. You do not know. You have not seen Antinea. Let +me tell you one thing: that among those"--and with a sweeping gesture +he indicated the silent circle of statues--"there were men as +courageous as you and perhaps less excitable. I remember one of them +especially well, a phlegmatic Englishman who now is resting under +Number 32. When he first appeared before Antinea, he was smoking a +cigar. And, like all the rest, he bent before the gaze of his +sovereign. + +"Do not speak until you have seen her. A university training hardly +fits one to discourse upon matters of passion, and I feel scarcely +qualified, myself, to tell you what Antinea is. I only affirm this, +that when you have seen her, you will remember nothing else. Family, +country, honor, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Everything?" asked Morhange in a calm voice. + +"Everything," Le Mesge insisted emphatically. "You will forget all, +you will renounce all." + +From outside, a faint sound came to us. + +Le Mesge consulted his watch. + +"In any case, you will see." + +The door opened. A tall white Targa, the tallest we had yet seen in +this remarkable abode, entered and came toward us. + +He bowed and touched me lightly on the shoulder. + +"Follow him," said M. Le Mesge. + +Without a word, I obeyed. + + + + +XI + +ANTINEA + + +My guide and I passed along another long corridor. My excitement +increased. I was impatient for one thing only, to come face to face +with that woman, to tell her.... So far as anything else was +concerned, I already was done for. + +I was mistaken in hoping that the adventure would take an heroic turn +at once. In real life, these contrasts never are definitely marked +out. I should have remembered from many past incidents that the +burlesque was regularly mixed with the tragic in my life. + +We reached a little transparent door. My guide stood aside to let me +pass. + +I found myself in the most luxurious of dressing-rooms. A ground glass +ceiling diffused a gay rosy light over the marble floor. The first +thing I noticed was a clock, fastened to the wall. In place of the +figures for the hours, were the signs of the Zodiac. The small hand +had not yet reached the sign of Capricorn. + +Only three o'clock! + +The day seemed to have lasted a century already.... And only a little +more than half of it was gone. + +Another idea came to me, and a convulsive laugh bent me double. + +"Antinea wants me to be at my best when I meet her." + +A mirror of orichalch formed one whole side of the room. Glancing into +it, I realized that in all decency there was nothing exaggerated in +the demand. + +My untrimmed beard, the frightful layer of dirt which lay about my +eyes and furrowed my cheeks, my clothing, spotted by all the clay of +the Sahara and torn by all the thorns of Ahaggar--all this made me +appear a pitiable enough suitor. + +I lost no time in undressing and plunging into the porphry bath in the +center of the room. A delicious drowsiness came over me in that +perfumed water. A thousand little jars, spread on a costly carved wood +dressing-table, danced before my eyes. They were of all sizes and +colors, carved in a very transparent kind of jade. The warm humidity +of the atmosphere hastened my relaxation. + +I still had strength to think, "The devil take Atlantis and the vault +and Le Mesge." + +Then I fell asleep in the bath. + +When I opened my eyes again, the little hand of the clock had almost +reached the sign of Taurus. Before me, his black hands braced on the +edge of the bath, stood a huge Negro, bare-faced and bare-armed, his +forehead bound with an immense orange turban. + +He looked at me and showed his white teeth in a silent laugh. + +"Who is this fellow?" + +The Negro laughed harder. Without saying a word, he lifted me like a +feather out of the perfumed water, now of a color on which I shall not +dwell. + +In no time at all, I was stretched out on an inclined marble table. + +The Negro began to massage me vigorously. + +"More gently there, fellow!" + +My masseur did not reply, but laughed and rubbed still harder. + +"Where do you come from? Kanem? Torkou? You laugh too much for a +Targa." + +Unbroken silence. The Negro was as speechless as he was hilarious. + +"After all, I am making a fool of myself," I said, giving up the case. +"Such as he is, he is more agreeable than Le Mesge with his +nightmarish erudition. But, on my word, what a recruit he would be for +Hamman on the rue des Mathurins!" + +"Cigarette, sidi?" + +Without awaiting my reply, he placed a cigarette between my lips and +lighted it, and resumed his task of polishing every inch of me. + +"He doesn't talk much, but he is obliging," I thought. + +And I sent a puff of smoke into his face. + +This pleasantry seemed to delight him immensely. He showed his +pleasure by giving me great slaps. + +When he had dressed me down sufficiently, he took a little jar from +the dressing-table and began to rub me with a rose-colored ointment. +Weariness seemed to fly away from my rejuvenated muscles. + +A stroke on a copper gong. My masseur disappeared. A stunted old +Negress entered, dressed in the most tawdry tinsel. She was talkative +as a magpie, but at first I did not understand a word in the +interminable string she unwound, while she took first my hands, then +my feet, and polished the nails with determined grimaces. + +Another stroke on the gong. The old woman gave place to another Negro, +grave, this time, and dressed all in white with a knitted skull cap on +his oblong head. It was the barber, and a remarkably dexterous one. He +quickly trimmed my hair, and, on my word, it was well done. Then, +without asking me what style I preferred, he shaved me clean. + +I looked with pleasure at my face, once more visible. + +"Antinea must like the American type," I thought. "What an affront to +the memory of her worthy grandfather, Neptune!" + +The gay Negro entered and placed a package on the divan. The barber +disappeared. I was somewhat astonished to observe that the package, +which my new valet opened carefully, contained a suit of white +flannels exactly like those French officers wear in Algeria in summer. + +The wide trousers seemed made to my measure. The tunic fitted without +a wrinkle, and my astonishment was unbounded at observing that it even +had two gilt _galons_, the insignia of my rank, braided on the cuffs. +For shoes, there were slippers of red Morocco leather, with gold +ornaments. The underwear, all of silk, seemed to have come straight +from the rue de la Paix. + +"Dinner was excellent," I murmured, looking at myself in the mirror +with satisfaction. "The apartment is perfectly arranged. Yes, but...." + +I could not repress a shudder when I suddenly recalled that room of +red marble. + +The clock struck half past four. + +Someone rapped gently on the door. The tall white Targa, who had +brought me, appeared in the doorway. + +He stepped forward, touched me on the arm and signed for me to follow. + +Again I followed him. + +We passed through interminable corridors. I was disturbed, but the +warm water had given me a certain feeling of detachment. And above +all, more than I wished to admit, I had a growing sense of lively +curiosity. If, at that moment, someone had offered to lead me back to +the route across the white plain near Shikh-Salah, would I have +accepted? Hardly. + +I tried to feel ashamed of my curiosity. I thought of Maillefeu. + +"He, too, followed this corridor. And now he is down there, in the red +marble hall." + +I had no time to linger over this reminiscence. I was suddenly bowled +over, thrown to the ground, as if by a sort of meteor. The corridor +was dark; I could see nothing. I heard only a mocking growl. + +The white Targa had flattened himself back against the wall. + +"Good," I mumbled, picking myself up, "the deviltries are beginning." + +We continued on our way. A glow different from that of the rose night +lights soon began to light up the corridor. + +We reached a high bronze door, in which a strange lacy design had +been cut in filigree. A clear gong sounded, and the double doors +opened part way. The Targa remained in the corridor, closing the doors +after me. + +I took a few steps forward mechanically, then paused, rooted to the +spot, and rubbed my eyes. + +I was dazzled by the sight of the sky. + +Several hours of shaded light had unaccustomed me to daylight. It +poured in through one whole side of the huge room. + +The room was in the lower part of this mountain, which was more +honeycombed with corridors and passages than an Egyptian pyramid. It +was on a level with the garden which I had seen in the morning from +the balcony, and seemed to be a continuation of it; the carpet +extended out under the great palm trees and the birds flew about the +forest of pillars in the room. + +By contrast, the half of the room untouched by direct light from the +oasis seemed dark. The sun, setting behind the mountain, painted the +garden paths with rose and flamed with red upon the traditional +flamingo which stood with one foot raised at the edge of the sapphire +lake. + +Suddenly I was bowled over a second time. + +I felt a warm, silky touch, a burning breath on my neck. Again the +mocking growl which had so disturbed me in the corridor. + +With a wrench, I pulled myself free and sent a chance blow at my +assailant. The cry, this time of pain and rage, broke out again. + +It was echoed by a long peal of laughter. Furious, I turned to look +for the insolent onlooker, thinking to speak my mind. And then my +glance stood still. + +Antinea was before me. + + +In the dimmest part of the room, under a kind of arch lit by the mauve +rays from a dozen incense-lamps, four women lay on a heap of +many-colored cushions and rare white Persian rugs. + +I recognized the first three as Tuareg women, of a splendid regular +beauty, dressed in magnificent robes of white silk embroidered in +gold. The fourth, very dark skinned, almost negroid, seemed younger. +A tunic of red silk enhanced the dusk of her face, her arms and her +bare feet. The four were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs, +covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one +elbow, lay Antinea. + +Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really +looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More +beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the +fault of the language or of those who abuse the word? + +One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom +Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter +of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom +Antony fled.... + + _O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras + C'est dans l'étreinte altière et chaude de ses bras_. + +An Egyptian _klaft_ fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two +points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The +golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round, +determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her +head. + +She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very +full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with +iris in black pearls. + +That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim +young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A +more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile, +such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom. + +I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at +it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most +extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable +moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than +to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty +young men who had held that slender body in their arms. + +She was still laughing at me. + +"King Hiram," she called. + +I turned and saw my enemy. + +On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a +splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I +had dealt him. + +"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here." + +The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's +feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles. + +"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said. + +The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle +puckered about his black moustache. + +"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat. + +"Go," Antinea ordered imperiously. + +The beast crawled reluctantly toward me. He laid his head humbly +between his paws and waited. + +I stroked his beautiful spotted forehead. + +"You must not be vexed," said Antinea. "He is always that way with +strangers." + +"Then he must often be in bad humor," I said simply. + +Those were my first words. They brought a smile to Antinea's lips. + +She gave me a long, quiet look. + +"Aguida," she said to one of the Targa women, "you will give +twenty-five pounds in gold to Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"You are a lieutenant?" she asked, after a pause. + +"Yes." + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From France." + +"I might have guessed that," she said ironically, "but from what part +of France?" + +"From what we call the Lot-et-Garonne." + +"From what town?" + +"From Duras." + +She reflected a moment. + +"Duras! There is a little river there, the Dropt, and a fine old +château." + +"You know Duras?" I murmured, amazed. + +"You go there from Bordeaux by a little branch railway," she went +on. "It is a shut-in road, with vine-covered hills crowned by +the feudal ruins. The villages have beautiful names: Monségur, +Sauve-terre-de-Guyenne, la Tresne, Créon, ... Créon, as in Antigone." + +"You have been there?" + +She looked at me. + +"Don't speak so coldly," she said. "Sooner or later we will be +intimate, and you may as well lay aside formality now." + +This threatening promise suddenly filled me with great happiness. I +thought of Le Mesge's words: "Don't talk until you have seen her. When +you have seen her, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Have I been in Duras?" she went on with a burst of laughter. "You are +joking. Imagine Neptune's granddaughter in the first-class compartment +of a local train!" + +She pointed to an enormous white rock which towered above the palm +trees of the garden. + +"That is my horizon," she said gravely. + +She picked up one of several books which lay scattered about her on +the lion's skin. + +"The time table of the _Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest_," she said. +"Admirable reading for one who never budges! Here it is half-past five +in the afternoon. A train, a local, arrived three minutes ago at +Surgères in the Charente-Inférieure. It will start on in six minutes. +In two hours it will reach La Rochelle. How strange it seems to think +of such things here. So far away! So much commotion there! Here, +nothing changes." + +"You speak French well," I said. + +She gave a little nervous laugh. + +"I have to. And German, too, and Italian, and English and Spanish. My +way of living has made me a great polygot. But I prefer French, even +to Tuareg and Arabian. It seems as if I had always known it. And I am +not saying that to please you." + +There was a pause. I thought of her grandmother, of whom Plutarch +said: "There were few races with which she needed an interpreter. +Cleopatra spoke their own language to the Ethiopians, to the +Troglodytes, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Medes and the Persians." + +"Do not stand rooted in the middle of the room. You worry me. Come +sit here, beside me. Move over, King Hiram." + +The leopard obeyed with good temper. + +Beside her was an onyx bowl. She took from it a perfectly plain ring +of orichalch and slipped it on my left ring-finger. I saw that she +wore one like it. + +"Tanit-Zerga, give Monsieur de Saint-Avit a rose sherbet." + +The dark girl in red silk obeyed. + +"My private secretary," said Antinea, introducing her. "Mademoiselle +Tanit-Zerga, of Gâo, on the Niger. Her family is almost as ancient as +mine." + +As she spoke, she looked at me. Her green eyes seemed to be appraising +me. + +"And your comrade, the Captain?" she asked in a dreamy tone. "I have +not yet seen him. What is he like? Does he resemble you?" + +For the first time since I had entered, I thought of Morhange. I did +not answer. + +Antinea smiled. + +She stretched herself out full length on the lion skin. Her bare right +knee slipped out from under her tunic. + +"It is time to go find him," she said languidly. "You will soon +receive my orders. Tanit-Zerga, show him the way. First take him to +his room. He cannot have seen it." + +I rose and lifted her hand to my lips. She struck me with it so +sharply as to make my lips bleed, as if to brand me as her possession. + + * * * * * + +I was in the dark corridor again. The young girl in the red silk tunic +walked ahead of me. + +"Here is your room," she said. "If you wish, I will take you to the +dining-room. The others are about to meet there for dinner." + +She spoke an adorable lisping French. + +"No, Tanit-Zerga, I would rather stay here this evening. I am not +hungry. I am tired." + +"You remember my name?" she said. + +She seemed proud of it. I felt that in her I had an ally in case of +need. + +"I remember your name, Tanit-Zerga, because it is beautiful."[12] + +[Footnote 12: In Berber, Tanit means a spring; zerga is the feminine of +the adjective azreg, blue. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +Then I added: + +"Now, leave me, little one. I want to be alone." + +It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same +time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself. + +"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the +table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white +Targa will answer." + +For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the +midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service. + +I looked about my room. My room! For how long? + +It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock, +all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade. + +I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting +sun entered. + +I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my +heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the +ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me. + +In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the +first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the +distance, I saw the limitless red desert. + + + + +XII + +MORHANGE DISAPPEARS + + +My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next +day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon. + +I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed +amazing. + +"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by +consulting Morhange." + +I was ravenously hungry. + +The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I +struck it. A white Targa appeared. + +"Show me the way to the library," I ordered. + +He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and +corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his +help. + +Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript. + +"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger +were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters." + +I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the +table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like +that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she +herself wore. + +Morhange smiled. + +"Well?" I said. + +"Well?" + +"You have seen her?" + +"I have indeed," Morhange replied. + +"She is beautiful, is she not?" + +"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even +believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is +beautiful." + +There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring. + +"You know what our fate is to be?" + +"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological +terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure." + +He was silent, then said, looking at me: + +"I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature +is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very +easily." + +Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did +not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged +correctly. + +"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured. + +He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair +and lit a cigar. + +"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I +have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no +discussion. + +"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my +semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather +doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but, +even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my +having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no +taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us. + +"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the +right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his +own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish, +results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular +ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give +satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance +of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire: +such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps +even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under +similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so +doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The +end justified the means. + +"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd caprices +of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the +red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take +you first. Under those conditions...." + +"Under those conditions?" + +"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to +acquiesce." + +"Then what do you intend to do?" + +"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and +smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling. + +"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this +superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse +advances." + +Then he added with an ironical smile: + +"A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to." + +I nodded. + +"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was +breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le +Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she +replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But + + _Maudit soit à jamais rêveur inutile, + Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidité, + S'éprenant d'un problème insoluble et stérile, + Aux choses de l'amour mêler l'honnêteté._ + +"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers, +'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There +followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to +reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from +Baudelaire. + +"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman +whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in +order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek +knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant +with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew +me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid things as you know +of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of +different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in +the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this +is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend +is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman +indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer +than that master of sensualism." + +"Gentlemen," said Le Mesge, suddenly entering the room, "why are you +so late? They are waiting dinner for you." + +The little Professor was in a particularly good humor that evening. He +wore a new violet rosette. + +"Well?" he said, in a mocking tone, "you have seen her?" + +Neither Morhange nor I replied. + +The Reverend Spardek and the Hetmari of Jitomir already had begun +eating when we arrived. The setting sun threw raspberry lights on the +cream-colored mat. + +"Be seated, gentlemen," said Le Mesge noisily. "Lieutenant de +Saint-Avit, you were not with us last evening. You are about to taste +the cooking of Koukou, our Bambara chef, for the first time. You must +give me your opinion of it." + +A Negro waiter set before me a superb fish covered with a pimento +sauce as red as tomatoes. + +I have explained that I was ravenously hungry. The dish was exquisite. +The sauce immediately made me thirsty. + +"White Ahaggar, 1879," the Herman of Jitomir breathed in my ear as he +filled my goblet with a clear topaz liquid. "I developed it myself: +_rien pour la tête, tout pour les jambes_." + +I emptied the goblet at a gulp. The company began to seem charming. + +"Well, Captain Morhange," Le Mesge called out to my comrade who had +taken a mouthful of fish, "what do you say to this acanthopterygian? +It was caught to-day in the lake in the oasis. Do you begin to admit +the hypothesis of the Saharan sea?" + +"The fish is an argument," my companion replied. + +Suddenly he became silent. The door had opened. A white Targa entered. +The diners stopped talking. + +The veiled man walked slowly toward Morhange and touched his right +arm. + +"Very well," said Morhange. + +He got up and followed the messenger. + +The pitcher of Ahaggar, 1879, stood between me and Count Bielowsky. I +filled my goblet--a goblet which held a pint, and gulped it down. + +The Hetman looked at me sympathetically. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge, nudging me with his elbow. "Antinea has +respect for the hierarchic order." + +The Reverend Spardek smiled modestly. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge again. + +My glass was empty. For a moment I was tempted to hurl it at the head +of the Fellow in History. But what of it? I filled it and emptied it +again. + +"Morhange will miss this delicious roast of mutton," said the +Professor, more and more hilarious, as he awarded himself a thick +slice of meat. + +"He won't regret it," said the Hetman crossly. "This is not roast; it +is ram's horn. Really Koukou is beginning to make fun of us." + +"Blame it on the Reverend," the shrill voice of Le Mesge cut in. "I +have told him often enough to hunt other proselytes and leave our cook +alone." + +"Professor," Spardek began with dignity. + +"I maintain my contention," cried Le Mesge, who seemed to me to be +getting a bit overloaded. "I call the gentleman to witness," he went +on, turning to me. "He has just come. He is unbiased. Therefore I ask +him: has one the right to spoil a Bambara cook by addling his head +with theological discussions for which he has no predisposition?" + +"Alas!" the pastor replied sadly. "You are mistaken. He has only too +strong a propensity to controversy." + +"Koukou is a good-for-nothing who uses Colas' cow as an excuse for +doing nothing and letting our scallops burn," declared the Hetman. +"Long live the Pope!" he cried, filling the glasses all around. + +"I assure you that this Bambara worries me," Spardek went on with +great dignity. "Do you know what he has come to? He denies +transubstantiation. He is within an inch of the heresy of Zwingli and +Oecolampades. Koukou denies transubstantiation." + +"Sir," said Le Mesge, very much excited, "cooks should be left in +peace. Jesus, whom I consider as good a theologian as you, understood +that, and it never occurred to him to call Martha away from her oven +to talk nonsense to her." + +"Exactly so," said the Hetman approvingly. + +He was holding a jar between his knees and trying to draw its cork. + +"Oh, Côtes Rôties, wines from the Côte-Rôtie!" he murmured to me as he +finally succeeded. "Touch glasses." + +"Koukou denies transubstantiation," the pastor continued, sadly +emptying his glass. + +"Eh!" said the Hetman of Jitomir in my ear, "let them talk on. Don't +you see that they are quite drunk?" + +His own voice was thick. He had the greatest difficulty in the world +in filling my goblet to the brim. + +I wanted to push the pitcher away. Then an idea came to me: + +"At this very moment, Morhange.... Whatever he may say.... She is so +beautiful." + +I reached out for the glass and emptied it once more. + +Le Mesge and the pastor were now engaged in the most extraordinary +religious controversy, throwing at each other's heads the Book of +Common Prayer, The Declaration of the Rights of Man, and the +Unigenitus. Little by little, the Hetman began to show that ascendancy +over them, which is the characteristic of a man of the world even when +he is thoroughly drunk; the superiority of education over instruction. + +Count Bielowsky had drunk five times as much as the Professor or the +pastor. But he carried his wine ten times better. + +"Let us leave these drunken fellows," he said with disgust. "Come on, +old man. Our partners are waiting in the gaming room." + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said the Hetman as we entered. "Permit me to +present a new player to you, my friend, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +"Let it go at that," he murmured in my ear. "They are the servants. +But I like to fool myself, you see." + +I saw that he was very drunk indeed. + +The gaming room was very long and narrow. A huge table, almost level +with the floor and surrounded with cushions on which a dozen natives +were lying, was the chief article of furniture. Two engravings on the +wall gave evidence of the happiest broadmindedness in taste; one of da +Vinci's St. John the Baptist, and the _Maison des Dernières +Cartouches_ of Alphonse de Neuville. + +On the table were earthenware goblets. A heavy jar held palm liqueur. + +I recognized acquaintances among those present; my masseur, the +manicure, the barber, and two or three Tuareg who had lowered their +veils and were gravely smoking long pipes. While waiting for something +better, all were plunged in the delights of a card game that looked +like "rams." Two of Antinea's beautiful ladies in waiting, Aguida and +Sydya, were among the number. Their smooth bistre skins gleamed +beneath veils shot with silver. I was sorry not to see the red silk +tunic of Tanit-Zerga. Again, I thought of Morhange, but only for an +instant. + +"The chips, Koukou," demanded the Hetman, "We are not here to amuse +ourselves." + +The Zwinglian cook placed a box of many-colored chips in front of him. +Count Bielowsky set about counting them and arranging them in little +piles with infinite care. + +"The white are worth a _louis_," he explained to me. "The red, a +hundred francs. The yellow, five hundred. The green, a thousand. Oh, +it's the devil of a game that we play here. You will see." + +"I open with ten thousand," said the Zwinglian cook. + +"Twelve thousand," said the Hetman. + +"Thirteen," said Sydya with a slow smile, as she seated herself on the +count's knee and began to arrange her chips lovingly in little piles. + +"Fourteen," I said. + +"Fifteen," said the sharp voice of Rosita, the old manicure. + +"Seventeen," proclaimed the Hetman. + +"Twenty thousand," the cook broke in. + +He hammered on the table and, casting a defiant look at us, repeated: + +"I take it at twenty thousand." + +The Hetman made an impatient gesture. + +"That devil, Koukou! You can't do anything against the beast. You will +have to play carefully, Lieutenant." + +Koukou had taken his place at the end of the table. He threw down the +cards with an air which abashed me. + +"I told you so; the way it was at Anna Deslions'," the Hetman murmured +proudly. + +"Make your bets, gentlemen," yelped the Negro. "Make your bets." + +"Wait, you beast," called Bielowsky. "Don't you see that the glasses +are empty? Here, Cacambo." + +The goblets were filled immediately by the jolly masseur. + +"Cut," said Koukou, addressing Sydya, the beautiful Targa who sat at +his right. + +The girl cut, like one who knows superstitions, with her left hand. +But it must be said that her right was busy lifting a cup to her lips. +I watched the curve of her beautiful throat. + +"My deal," said Koukou. + +We were thus arranged: at the left, the Hetman, Aguida, whose waist he +had encircled with the most aristocratic freedom, Cacambo, a Tuareg +woman, then two veiled Negroes who were watching the game intently. At +the right, Sydya, myself, the old manicure, Rosita, Barouf, the +barber, another woman and two white Tuareg, grave and attentive, +exactly opposite those on the left. + +"Give me one," said the Hetman. + +Sydya made a negative gesture. + +Koukou drew, passed a four-spot to the Hetman, gave himself a five. + +"Eight," announced Bielowsky. + +"Six," said pretty Sydya. + +"Seven," broke in Koukou. "One card makes up for another," he added +coldly. + +"I double," said the Hetman. + +Cacambo and Aguida followed his example. On our side, we were more +careful. The manicure especially would not risk more than twenty +francs at a time. + +"I demand that the cards be evened up," said Koukou imperturbably. + +"This fellow is unbearable," grumbled the count. "There, are you +satisfied?" + +Koukou dealt and laid down a nine. + +"My country and my honor!" raged Bielowsky. "I had an eight." + +I had two kings, and so showed no ill temper. Rosita took the cards +out of my hands. + +I watched Sydya at my right. Her heavy black hair covered her +shoulders. She was really very beautiful, though a bit tipsy, as were +all that fantastic company. She looked at me, too, but with lowered +eyelids, like a timid little wild animal. + +"Oh," I thought. "She may well be afraid. I am labelled 'No +trespassing.'" + +I touched her foot. She drew it back in fright. + +"Who wants cards?" Koukou demanded. + +"Not I," said the Hetman. + +"Served," said Sydya. + +The cook drew a four. + +"Nine," he said. + +"That card was meant for me," cursed the count. "And five, I had a +five. If only I had never promised his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon II +never to cut fives! There are times when it is hard, very hard. And +look at that beast of a Negro who plays Charlemagne." + +It was true. Koukou swept in three-quarters of the chips, rose with +dignity, and bowed to the company. + +"Till to-morrow, gentlemen." + +"Get along, the whole pack of you," howled the Hetman of Jitomir. +"Stay with me, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +When we were alone, he poured out another huge cupfull of liqueur. The +ceiling of the room was lost in the gray smoke. + +"What time is it?" I asked. + +"After midnight. But you are not going to leave me like this, my dear +boy? I am heavy-hearted." + +He wept bitterly. The tail of his coat spread out on the divan behind +him like the apple-green wings of a beetle. + +"Isn't Aguida a beauty?" he went on, still weeping. "She makes me +think of the Countess de Teruel, though she is a little darker. You +know the Countess de Teruel, Mercedes, who went in bathing nude at +Biarritz, in front of the rock of the Virgin, one day when Prince +Bismarck was standing on the foot-bridge. You do not remember her? +Mercedes de Teruel." + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"I forget; you must have been too young. Two, perhaps three years old. +A child. Yes, a child. Oh, my child, to have been of that generation +and to be reduced to playing cards with savages ... I must tell +you...." + +I stood up and pushed him off. + +"Stay, stay," he implored. "I will tell you everything you want to +know, how I came here, things I have never told anyone. Stay, I must +unbosom myself to a true friend. I will tell you everything, I repeat. +I trust you. You are a Frenchman, a gentleman. I know that you will +repeat nothing to her." + +"That I will repeat nothing to her?... To whom?" + +His voice stuck in his throat. I thought I saw a shudder of fear pass +over him. + +"To her ... to Antinea," he murmured. + +I sat down again. + + + + +XIII + +THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY + + +Count Casimir had reached that stage where drunkenness takes on a kind +of gravity, of regretfulness. + +He thought a little, then began his story. I regret that I cannot +reproduce more perfectly its archaic flavor. + +"When the grapes begin to color in Antinea's garden, I shall be +sixty-eight. It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your wild +oats. It isn't true that life is always beginning over again. How +bitter, to have known the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the +point where I am now! + +"One evening, just before the war (I remember that Victor Black was +still living), some charming women whose names I need not disclose (I +read the names of their sons from time to time in the society news of +the _Gaulois_) expressed to me their desire to rub elbows with some +real _demi-mondaines_ of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at +the _Grande Chaumière_. There was a crowd of young painters, models, +students. In the midst of the uproar, several couples danced the +_cancan_ till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed especially a +little, dark man, dressed in a miserable top-coat and checked trousers +which assuredly knew the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed, +with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be. He bounded and +kicked extravagantly. The ladies called him Léon Gambetta. + +"What an annoyance, when I realize that I need only have felled this +wretched lawyer with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect +happiness to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow, I +am French at heart, if not by birth. + +"I was born in 1829, at Warsaw, of a Polish father and a Russian +mother. It is from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir. It +was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request made to him on +his visit to Paris, by my august master, the Emperor Napoleon III. + +"For political reasons, which I cannot describe without retelling the +history of unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left Warsaw +in 1830, and went to live in London. After the death of my mother, he +began to squander his immense fortune--from sorrow, he said. When, in +his time, he died at the period of the Prichard affair, he left me +barely a thousand pounds sterling of income, plus two or three systems +of gaming, the impracticability of which I learned later. + +"I will never be able to think of my nineteenth and twentieth years +without emotion, for I then completely liquidated this small +inheritance. London was indeed an adorable spot in those days. I had a +jolly bachelor's apartment in Piccadilly. + + "'Picadilly! Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze, + The whirling of wheels and the murmur of trees.' + +"Fox hunting in a _briska_, driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, +not to mention the delightful little parties with the light Venuses of +Drury Lane, this took all my time. All? I am unjust. There was also +gaming, and a sentiment of filial piety forced me to verify the +systems of the late Count, my father. It was gaming which was the +cause of the event I must describe to you, by which my life was to be +so strangely changed. + +"My friend, Lord Malmesbury, had said to me a hundred times, 'I must +take you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford Street, +number 277, Miss Howard.' One evening I went with him. It was the +twenty-second of February, 1848. The mistress of the house was really +marvelously beautiful, and the guests were charming. Besides +Malmesbury, I observed several acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord +Chesterfield, Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards, +and Count d'Orsay. They played cards and then began to talk politics. +Events in France played the main part in the conversation and they +discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt that had broken out +in Paris that same morning, in consequence of the interdiction of the +banquet in the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been +received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never bothered myself +with public affairs. So I don't know what moved me to affirm with the +impetuosity of my nineteen years that the news from France meant the +Republic next day and the Empire the day after.... + +"The company received my sally with a discreet laugh, and their looks +were centered on a guest who made the fifth at a _bouillotte_ table +where they had just stopped playing. + +"The guest smiled, too. He rose and came towards me. I observed that +he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned tightly into a +blue frock coat, and that his eye had a far-off, dreamy look. + +"All the players watched this scene with delighted amusement. + +"'Whom have I the honor of addressing?' he asked in a very gentle +voice. + +"'Count Bielowsky,' I answered coolly to show him that the difference +in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation. + +"Well, my dear Count, may your prediction indeed be realized; and I +hope that you will not neglect the Tuileries,' said the guest in the +blue coat, with a smile. + +"And he added, finally consenting to present himself: + +"'Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.' + +"I played no active rôle in the _coup d'état_, and I do not regret it. +It is a principle with me that a stranger should not meddle with the +internal affairs of a country. The prince understood this discretion, +and did not forget the young man who had been of such good omen to +him. + +"I was one of the first whom he called to the Elysée. My fortune was +definitely established by a defamatory note on 'Napoleon the little.' +The next year, when Mgr. Sibour was out of the way, I was made +Gentleman of the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to have +me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto, Duke of Mondovi. + +"I have no scruple in announcing that this union was not what it +should have been. The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was +crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover, her family had insisted +resolutely on a marriage portion. Now I had nothing at this time +except the twenty-five thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman +of the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate terms with the Count +d'Orsay and the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of +the Emperor, where would I have been? + +"One morning in the spring of 1852, I was in my study opening my mail. +There was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries at +four o'clock; a letter from Clémentine, informing me that she expected +me at five o'clock at her house. Clémentine was the beautiful one for +whom, just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I was so proud of +her that, one evening at the _Maison Dorée_, I flaunted her before +Prince Metternich, who was tremendously taken with her. All the court +envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged to continue to +assume its expenses. And then Clémentine was so pretty! The Emperor +himself.... The other letters, good lord, the other letters were the +bills of the dressmakers of that young person, who, in spite of my +discreet remonstrances, insisted on having them sent to my conjugal +dwelling. + +"There were bills for something over forty thousand francs: gowns and +ball dresses from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and +bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d'Antin; lingerie and many +petticoats from Madame Pauline, 100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and +gloves from the _Ville de Lyon_, 6 Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin; +foulards from the _Malle des Indes_; handkerchiefs from the _Compagnie +Irlandaise_; laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from _Candès_.... This +whitening cream of _Candès_, in particular, overwhelmed me with +stupefaction. The bill showed fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and +twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes' worth of whitening cream from +_Candès_.... Enough to soften the skin of a squadron of a hundred +guards! + +"'This can't keep on,' I said, putting the bills in my pocket. + +"At ten minutes to four, I crossed the wicket by the Carrousel. + +"In the Salon of the _aides de camp_ I happened on Bacciochi. + +"'The Emperor has the grippe,' he said to me. 'He is keeping to his +room. He has given orders to have you admitted as soon as you arrive. +Come.' + +"His Majesty, dressed in a braided vest and Cossack trousers, was +meditating before a window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed +luminously under a gentle warm shower. + +"'Ah! Here he is,' said Napoleon. 'Here, have a cigarette. It seems +that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse, last evening, +at the _Château de Fleurs_.' + +"I smiled with satisfaction. + +"'So Your Majesty knows already....' + +"'I know, I know vaguely.' + +"'Do you know Gramont-Caderousse's last "mot"?' + +"'No, but you are going to tell it to me.' + +"'Here goes, then. We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont, +Persigny....' + +"'Persigny!' said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with +Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife.' + +"'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He +began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's +conduct.' + +"'This Fialin isn't over tactful,' muttered the Emperor. + +"'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at +him?' + +"'What?' + +"'He said to him, "_Monsieur le Duc_, I forbid you to speak ill of my +mistress before me." + +"'Gramont goes too far,' said Napoleon with a dreamy smile. + +"'That is what we all thought, including Viel-Castel, who was +nevertheless delighted.' + +"'Apropos of this,' said Napoleon after a silence, 'I have forgotten +to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.' + +"'She is very well, Sire, I thank Your Majesty,' + +"'And Clémentine? Still the same dear child?' + +"'Always, Sire. But....' + +"'It seems that M. Baroche is madly in love with her.' + +"'I am very much honored, Sire. But this honor becomes too +burdensome.' + +"I had drawn from my pocket that morning's bills and I spread them out +under the eyes of the Emperor. + +"He looked at them with his distant smile. + +"'Come, come. If that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to +ask of you.' + +"'I am entirely at Your Majesty's service.' + +"He struck a gong. + +"'Send for M. Mocquard.' + +"'I have the grippe,' he said. 'Mocquard will explain the affair to +you.' + +"The Emperor's private secretary entered. + +"'Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,' said Napoleon. 'You know what I want +him to do. Explain it to him.' + +"And he began to tap on the window-panes against which the rain was +beating furiously. + +"'My dear Count,' said Mocquard, taking a chair, 'it is very simple. +You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise, M. Henry +Duveyrier.' + +"I shook my head as a sign of negation, very much surprised at this +beginning. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'has returned to Paris after a +particularly daring trip to South Africa and the Sahara. M. Vivien de +Saint Martin, whom I have seen recently has assured me that the +Geographical Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon him, +in recognition of these exploits. In the course of his trip, M. +Duveyrier has entered into negotiations with the chief of the people +who always have been so rebellious to His Majesty's armies, the +Tuareg.' + +"I looked at the Emperor. My bewilderment was such that he began to +laugh. + +"'Listen,' he said. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a +delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to +His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His +Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the +signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our +fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, +_Amenokol_ or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow +morning at the _Gare de Lyon_. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the +Emperor has thought that besides....' + +"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I +thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my +Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is +why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, +laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged +only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these +princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; +then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious +scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian +civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not forget that in the +Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I +have confidence in your tact and give you _carte blanche_.... +Mocquard!' + +"'Sire?' + +"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to +the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of +the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, +to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed +that figure.' + +"Clémentine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion +that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When +she saw me, she burst into tears. + +"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have +we done!' + +"'Clémentine, tell me!' + +"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt +against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was +fragrant with _eau de Nanon_. + +"'What is it? What can it be?' + +"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear. + +"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?' + +"'Am I quite sure!' + +"I was thunderstruck. + +"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply. + +"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I +assure you.' + +"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.' + +"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!' + +"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously. + +"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. +The Emperor's orders.' + +"'What bluff is this?' asked Clémentine. + +"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.' + +"I retold Mocquard's story to Clémentine, as well as I could. She +listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that +way.' + +"Finally, furious, I burst out: + +"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I +invite you.' + +"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clémentine with great +dignity. + +"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a +day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. +The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. +And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular +paternity.... + +"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the +Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of +Parisian civilization. Clémentine comports herself very well in +society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a +room for to-morrow at the _Café de Paris_, and tell Gramont-Caderousse +and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very +French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the +midst of this little party.' + +"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found +M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little +blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the +train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil +knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four +others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their +amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of +_sabir_[13] which helped things along. + +[Footnote 13: Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant--a mixture of +Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.] + +"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in +the evening to the Museum, to the _Hotel de Ville_, to the Imperial +Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the +registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give +you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: +Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- +ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.[14] + +[Footnote 14: I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the +Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who +accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count +Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"And there were five of them like that! + +"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, +everywhere, our success was colossal. At the _Café de Paris_, at +six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, +embraced me: '_Bono, Napoléon, bono, Eugénie; bono, Casimir; bono, +Christians_.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth +number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the _Folies Dramatiques_, and +Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the +heart. But the palm was for my dear Clémentine, when she entered. I +must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China +blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the +pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of +green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence +which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. +The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between +their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed +bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged +with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a +diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined +in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of +blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin. + +"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, +especially, Clémentine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemâma, +brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup +arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already +much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique _à la +liqueur de Mme. Amphoux_, he showed every indication of illimitable +passion. The Cyprian wine _de la Commanderie_ made him quite sure of +his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, +intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the +indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when +the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner +in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet +in respect to wine. + +"At Mabille, while Clémentine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three +Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took +me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain +commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik +Ahmed. + +"The next day, very early, I reached Clémentine's house. + +"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, +'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.' + +"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly. + +"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with +you last night?' + +"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing. + +"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and +reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our +august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?' + +"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming +interested. + +"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august +sovereign, the Empress Eugénie?' + +"Clémentine, looked startled. + +"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make +this offer.' + +"Clémentine, dumb with amazement, did not reply. + +"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered. + +"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before +midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain +is made.' + +"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well +to display a little sentiment. + +"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!' + +"'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps +that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to +pay for your complexion cream!' + +"'Ah!' she sighed. + +"She added, however, 'And ... the child?' + +"'What child?' + +"'Our child ... our child.' + +"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and +loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles +him.' + +"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and +crying. + + +"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried +away the five Tuareg and Clémentine. The young woman, radiant, was +leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy. + +"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly. + +"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied: + +"'_Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono_.' + +"At the last moment, Clémentine had a pang of emotion. + +"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a +queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....' + +"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped +it onto mine. + +"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come--find us. Take Sidi +Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. _Bono_ +Ahaggar, _bono_.' + +"When I came out of the _Gare de Lyon_, I had the feeling of having +perpetrated an excellent joke." + +The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost +difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he +interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's +best score. + + _Dans un bois passait un jeune homme, + Un jeune homme frais et beau, + Sa main tenait une pomme, + Vous voyez d'ici le tableau_. + +"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, +poor old Casimir! Five thousand _louis_ to pay by the fifth of +September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat +and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But +the Empress was so kind. I found her alone--ah, people scatter quickly +under such circumstances!--alone, with a senator, M. Mérimée, the only +literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the +world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. +Thiers, whom I just met on the _Pont Royal_, would listen to nothing.' + +"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her +true friends are.' + +"And I kissed her hand. + + "_Evohé, que les déesses + Out de drôles de façons + Pour enjôler, pour enjôler, pour enjôler les gaâarçons_! + +"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered +the rabble going from the _Corps Législatif_ to the Hotel de Ville. My +mind was made up. + +"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.' + +"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened. + +"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am +going to be killed on the barricades.' + +"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged +you. Will you forgive me?' + +"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not +always been right myself.' + +"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the +Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career. + +"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the _Gare +de Lyon_ in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'" + +The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the +cushions and slept with clenched fists. + +I walked unsteadily to the great window. + +The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains. + + + + +XIV + +HOURS OF WAITING + + +It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his +enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and +chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic +outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that +way--I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! +Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by +recalling such memories. + +One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that +Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By +the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black +desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! +the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those +letters, I said to him in a trembling voice: + +"Go on." + +He acquiesced without further words. + +"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when +the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I +found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that +the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter +into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for +the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from +Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this +delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation. + +"Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not +think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't +you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not +trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward +to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to +enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have +given--unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague +uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to +know that he was well and safe. + +"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of +Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women +were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and +Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not +endure _kouskous_ of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of +information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With +Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste +for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. +Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a +doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I +pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange. + +"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister +puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of +Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence +remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had +invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors +that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick +voice a couplet from the music of _La Reine Hortense_. + +_De ma fille Isabelle +Sois l'époux à l'instant, +Car elle est la plus belle +Et toi, le plus vaillant_. + +"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old +skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid +printer of labels for the red marble hall,--how could I meet him +without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very +curious case of apocope: [Greek: Atlantinea]. Suppression of _alpha_, +of _tau_ and of _lambda_! I would like to direct your attention to +another case as curious: [Greek: klêmêntinea], Clémentine. Apocope of +_kappa_, of _lamba_, of _epsilon_ and of _mu_. If Morhange were with +us, he would tell you many charming erudite things about it. But, +alas! Morhange does not deign to come among us any more. We never see +Morhange.' + +"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from +Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished +so often as during those days of waiting! Now--after six years--she +must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was +very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against +those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through +politeness. + +"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey +by the merchants of Rhât, she was born in Constantinople and had been +brought into Africa by her master when he became _kaïmakam_ of +Rhadamès.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering +history by the incantations of this manicure. + +"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of +El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemâma, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great +and noble tribe of Kel-Rhelâ. She was born in the year twelve hundred +and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. +Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this +Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, +and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to +Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have +lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she +prefers to have them come to her.' + +"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely +devoted to her?' + +"'Nobody here knows Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is +continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to +Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin +of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, he owes his life to her. He is +one of the men who assassinated the great Kébir Flatters. On account +of that, Ikenoukhen, _amenokol_ of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French +reprisals, wanted to deliver Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the +whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes +the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then +twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of +occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red +marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.' + +"'And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties +successfully?' + +"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as +I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made +mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le +Mesge and marabout Spardek.' + +"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?' + +"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has +never made a mistake.' + +"'He has never made a mistake?' + +"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought +here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom +they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the +handsomest of all.' + +"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them +their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?' + +"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, +whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would +soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would +massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has +brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing +Antinea.' + +"'She keeps them a long time?' + +"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two +months, three months, on the average. It depends. A big Belgian +officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other +hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English +officer: she kept him almost a year.' + +"'And then?' + +"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my +question. + +"'Of what did he die?' + +"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge: + +"'Like all the others: of love. + +"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that +their time is ended, and that Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find +others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They +neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All +night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed +through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: +he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of +_kif_, a _kif_ that is more violent than opium. When they no longer +have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the +happiest. Little Kaine died differently.' + +"'How did little Kaine die?' + +"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed +longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In +Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, +there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very +heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his +dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, +mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A +Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the +Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the +time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding +guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. +The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest +difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only +to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble +hall.' + +"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass. + +"'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for +this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written +something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.' + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window +through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have +killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought +was in my heart. + +"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when +Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does +she not? Nobody sees him any more?' + +The old woman shook her head. + +"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. +Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to +her immediately.' + +"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....' + +"The Negress smiled comprehendingly. + +"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near +her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.' + +"I struck my fist violently upon the table. + +"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!' + +"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little +instruments. + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my +way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed +open the door of the red marble hall. I entered. + +"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be so +sinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of running +water. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One day +before an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waiting +for the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that we +leap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. I +listened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shade +in the transparent water, the little beasts, the little black fish, +the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of water +always has carried me out of myself. + +"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the dark +cascade. It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst of +these rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26. +It was he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh, +September 21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight. +He wasn't even twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat of +orichalch. His mouth sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Poor +youngster.--Edinburgh,--I knew Edinburgh, without ever having been +there. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills. +"Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anne +of Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the fold +of the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises from +among them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live with +my aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When he +left for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh a +Miss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slips +of girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, however +made for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And here +was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of +the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also. + +"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble +hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! +Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be +multiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless as +beautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witness +that I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession, +this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for the +sake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant, +to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremble +before them? + +"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. In +six months, eight, perhaps,--what difference anyway?--I shall be +hoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, a +finished body. + +"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. What +a child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I was +jealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, be +jealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, who +will come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still empty +niches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it is +to me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening, +in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54 +will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. I +shall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will be +my turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love. + +"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in the +library, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the people +who were assembled there. + +"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuareg +slaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference. + +"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so many +people who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other. + +"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountain +into uproar. + +"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to the +West, in Adhar Ahnet. + +"As soon as Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go to +meet them. + +"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing. + +"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt. + +"For the first time, Antinea was in love." + + + + +XV + +THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA + + +"_Arraôu, arraôu_." + +I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep to which I had finally +succumbed. I half opened my eyes. Immediately I flattened back. + +"_Arraôu_." + +Two feet from my face was the muzzle of King Hiram, yellow with a +tracery of black. The leopard was helping me to wake up; otherwise he +took little interest, for he yawned; his dark red jaws, beautiful +gleaming white fangs, opened and closed lazily. + +At the same moment I heard a burst of laughter. + +It was little Tanit-Zerga. She was crouching on a cushion near the +divan where I was stretched out, curiously watching my close interview +with the leopard. + +"King Hiram was bored," she felt obliged to explain to me. "I brought +him." + +"How nice," I growled. "Only tell me, could he not have gone somewhere +else to be amused?" + +"He is all alone now," said the girl. "_They_ have sent him away. He +made too much noise when he played." + +These words recalled me to the events of the previous evening. + +"If you like, I will make him go away," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"No, let him alone." + +I looked at the leopard with sympathy. Our common misfortune brought +us together. + +I even caressed his rounded forehead. King Hiram showed his +contentment by stretching out at full length and uncurling his great +amber claws. The mat on the floor had much to suffer. + +"Galé is here, too," said the little girl. + +"Galé! Who may he be?" + +At the same time, I saw on Tanit-Zerga's knees a strange animal, +about the size of a big cat, with flat ears, and a long muzzle. Its +pale gray fur was rough. + +It was watching me with queer little pink eyes. + +"It is my mongoose," explained Tanit-Zerga. + +"Come now," I said sharply, "is that all?" + +I must have looked so crabbed and ridiculous that Tanit-Zerga began to +laugh. I laughed, too. + +"Galé is my friend," she said when she was serious again. "I saved her +life. It was when she was quite little. I will tell you about it some +day. See how good-natured she is." + +So saying, she dropped the mongoose on my knees. + +"It is very nice of you, Tanit-Zerga," I said, "to come and pay me a +visit." I passed my hand slowly over the animal's back. "What time is +it now?" + +"A little after nine. See, the sun is already high. Let me draw the +shade." + +The room was in darkness. Galé's eyes grew redder. King Hiram's became +green. + +"It is very nice of you," I repeated, pursuing my idea. "I see that +you are free to-day. You never came so early before." + +A shade passed over the girl's forehead. + +"Yes, I am free," she said, almost bitterly. + +I looked at Tanit-Zerga more closely. For the first time I realized +that she was beautiful. Her hair, which she wore falling over her +shoulders, was not so much curly as it was gently waving. Her features +were of remarkable fineness: the nose very straight, a small mouth +with delicate lips, a strong chin. She was not black, but copper +colored. Her slender graceful body had nothing in common with the +disgusting thick sausages which the carefully cared for bodies of the +blacks become. + +A large circle of copper made a heavy decoration around her forehead +and hair. She had four bracelets, still heavier, on her wrists and +anklets, and, for clothing, a green silk tunic, slashed in points, +braided with gold. Green, bronze, gold. + +"You are a Sonrhaï, Tanit-Zerga?" I asked gently. + +She replied with almost ferocious pride: + +"I am a Sonrhaï." + +"Strange little thing," I thought. + +Evidently this was a subject on which Tanit-Zerga did not intend the +conversation to turn. I recalled how, almost painfully, she had +pronounced that "they," when she had told me how they had driven away +King Hiram. + +"I am a Sonrhaï," she repeated. "I was born at Gâo, on the Niger, the +ancient Sonrhaï capital. My fathers reigned over the great Mandingue +Empire. You need not scorn me because I am here as a slave." + +In a ray of sunlight, Galé, seated on his little haunches, washed his +shining mustaches with his forepaws; and King Hiram, stretched out on +the mat, groaned plaintively in his sleep. + +"He is dreaming," said Tanit-Zerga, a finger on her lips. + +There was a moment of silence. Then she said: + +"You must be hungry. And I do not think that you will want to eat with +the others." + +I did not answer. + +"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something +to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Galé's dinner +here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone." + +And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my +answer. + +That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she +came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of +Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that +she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to +her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself, +dared not direct the conversation. + +To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like +a nervous little parokeet. + +I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended +me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big +and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my +delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me. + +In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and +among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life. + +It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far +this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou +art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou +watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not +having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou +deservedest so richly. + +"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and +rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth +waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger, +it was.... But you are not listening to me." + +"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga." + +"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?" + +"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on." + +"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at +the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees, +brothers of the _zeg-zeg_, the spines of which pierced the head of +your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our +prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of Paradise;[15] +and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse +its shade in a century. + +[Footnote 15: The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the +caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to +ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great +snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in +glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash. + +"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gâo the deathlike lull +of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of +the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep +along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies +on the banks, and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of +the mud flats. + +"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the +morning; and to fête the sun setting behind the black branches of the +_douldouls_, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our +hands, as we sang the Sonrhaï hymn. + +"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must +not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you +like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who +must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold +ribbons he had on his white sleeves." + +"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere. + +"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay +no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these +things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gâo, the Niger makes a +bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with +large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking. +Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the +morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum, +boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder--boum-boum, +boum-baraboum--and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds, +aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum +trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely +flurried by the breeze that was springing up. + +"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook +the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that +the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was +dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening. + +"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down, +manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon +leapt ashore. + +"The oldest, a French _marabout_, with a great white burnous, who knew +our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my +father advanced and told him that it was he, the _marabout_ told him +that the commandant of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a +mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that +she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage +towards Ansango. + +"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives +against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but +for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the +resources of Gâo, including the forge, at the disposition of the +French chief, for repairing the gunboat. + +"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked +at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little +bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear. + +"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice. + +"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,' +I replied, vexed at his informality. + +"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you +give me the flowers that you have around your neck?' + +"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He +kissed me. The peace was made. + +"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and +strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the +river. + +"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief +mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away +before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy +soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.' + +"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend. + +"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little +companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most +beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that +had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great +cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I +went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay +with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples +on the surface of the dark waves. + +"That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French +officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his +head: 'Caw,--caw--the shade of the gum trees of Gâo--caw, caw--will +avail nothing tomorrow night--caw, caw--to the white chief nor to his +escort.' + +"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers. +They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage +of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing. + +"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority: + +'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that +the shade of the gum trees of Gâo would be fatal to your chief in the +coming night!...' + +"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the +sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added: + +"'And to his escort!' + +"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating +in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic +entered. + +"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like +angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave +this evening.' + +"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by +too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the +week. It will be better to start in the morning.' + +"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my +dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he +said gravely: + +"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you +wish it.' + +"And he kissed me. + +"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left +the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who +waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the +rickety jetty, I waited, watching the water flow by, until the last +sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into +the night."[16] + +[Footnote 16: Cf. the records and the _Bulletin de la Société de +Géographie de Paris_ (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the +_Commandant_ of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants +Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +Tanit-Zerga paused. + +"That was the last night of Gâo. While I was sleeping and the moon was +still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant. +Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can +never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found +me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my +little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who +escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among +them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men. +Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of +Gâo beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gâo had been razed +by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their +gunboat. + +"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being +pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp +disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen, +in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan +Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhât. At first, because they went +more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was +an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the +men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick +for having refused to go farther. + +"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead +as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each +time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one +of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a +little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me +turn around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor +arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed +in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from +a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue +steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later, +driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears, +trying to regain my place in the caravan. + +"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg +of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, which rules +over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man. +That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who +was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it +is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not +even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhaï Emperors, +of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed +Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen +hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand _mithkal_ of gold in the +days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to +the western sea, and when Gâo raised her cupola, sister of the sky, +above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the +tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum." + + + + +XVI + +THE SILVER HAMMER + + _Je ne m'en défends plus et je ne veux qu' aller + Reconnaître la place où je dois l'immoler_. + (Andromaque.) + + +It was this sort of a night when what I am going to tell you now +happened. Toward five o'clock the sky clouded over and a sense of the +coming storm trembled in the stifling air. + +I shall always remember it. It was the fifth of January, 1897. + +King Hiram and Galé lay heavily on the matting of my room. Leaning on +my elbows beside Tanit-Zerga in the rock-hewn window, I spied the +advance tremors of lightning. + +One by one they rose, streaking the now total darkness with their +bluish stripes. But no burst of thunder followed. The storm did not +attain the peaks of Ahaggar. It passed without breaking, leaving us in +our gloomy bath of sweat. + +"I am going to bed," said Tanit-Zerga. + +I have said that her room was above mine. Its bay window was some +thirty feet above that before which I lay. + +She took Galé in her arms. But King Hiram would have none of it. +Digging his four paws into the matting, he whined in anger and +uneasiness. + +"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep +here." + +So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of +responsibility in the events which followed. + +Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The +whole mountain was shrouded in silence. + +It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from +my meditation. + +King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn +claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now +wanted to go out. He was determined to go out. + +"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!" + +I tried to pull him away from the door. + +I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw. + +Then I sat down on the divan. + +My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange +abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only +one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of +Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps +a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen +tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as +this?" + +Immediately I made a resolve. + +"If I open the door," I thought, "King Hiram will leap down the +corridor and I shall have great difficulty in following him. I must +find some other way." + +The shade of the window was worked by means of a small cord. I pulled +it down. Then I tied it into a firm leash which I fastened to the +metal collar of the leopard. + +I half opened the door. + +"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly." + +I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who +dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly +before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost +burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was +casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here +on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the +leopard. + +At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained +ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy. + +Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor. +Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat +room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear +presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to +take me. + +Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly +glimmering red and green, appeared before us. + +The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose +window was cut. + +I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me +the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when +I had found myself in the presence of Antinea. + +"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he +would not give a dangerously loud growl. + +I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell +upon the floor, green and red. + +A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better +control of King Hiram who was getting nervous. + +The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was +completely dark. But the garden on which it gave shone under a +clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not +break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter. + +I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my +knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my +goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means. + +Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices. + +King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash. +He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices +seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among +the scattered cushions. + +My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of +cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me. + +Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had +stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound. + +Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I +opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered +feebly. + +"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet." + +And I put my arms about his powerful neck. + +I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook +with happiness. + +In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the +middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and +drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems. + +They were the white Tuareg. + +A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them. +Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow. + +The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light +and shadow, made a strange etching. + +They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous +voices. + +Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the +impatient little beast. + +"Go, boy." + +He leapt with a sharp yelp. + +And what I had foreseen happened. + +The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white +Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him +into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of +another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was +standing. + +"There!" I thought. + +The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One +realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon +the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in +one direction, the copper cups, in the other. + +Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with +low oaths. + +I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into +the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor, +down which King Hiram had just disappeared. + +At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which +seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way. + +One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I +was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated. + +"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back +politely to my room." + +The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber +of Antinea. + +The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the +right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left +was dim. + +Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a _guignol_ +is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its +opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I +noticed such a _guignol_ at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat +in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm. + +There I could see and hear everything. + +I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room, +except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow, +but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming +stuffs and furs. + +Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver +tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her +feet, licking them madly. + +The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the +other on his forehead, saluting. + +Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man. + +"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be +alone." + +"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly. + +"The doors were not closed, then?" + +The slave did not answer. + +"Shall I take him away?" he asked. + +And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, +expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply. + +"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea. + +She tapped nervously on the little silver tray. + +"What is the captain doing?" she asked. + +"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa +answered. + +"Has he said nothing?" + +"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer." + +Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly. + +"Did he say nothing else?" + +"No, mistress," said the man. + +A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead. + +"Go get him," she said brusquely. + +Bowing, the Targa left the room. + +I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had +he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He +had wanted to see me and been unable to! + +My eyes never left Antinea's. + +She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first +interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not +a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic. +Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight +shoulders and her bare arms. + +Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did +not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering +Cleopatra. + +Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her. + +An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the +wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw +her nude. + +A splendid and bitter sight!--A woman who thinks herself alone, +standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to +subdue! + +The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible +columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in +which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me, +standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror. + +Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into +the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such +a transformation to believe it possible. + +Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa. + +He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression +of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt +that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never. + +He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture +inviting him to be seated. + +She smiled at him. + +"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send +for you at so late an hour." + +Morhange did not move an eyelash. + +"Have you considered it well?" she demanded. + +Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply. + +I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to continue +smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings. + +"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is +to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise +to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your +captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?" + +"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said +Morhange simply. + +I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at +Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing +the one wish he had expressed. + +But Antinea continued calmly: + +"That is why I sent for you--to tell you that you are going to see him +again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me +even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me +to your will--I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however +that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you +satisfied?" + +"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile. + +"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for +the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I +shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time, +to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my +government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers +and several cannon." + +Antinea was standing up, very pale. + +"What are you saying?" + +"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First +threats, then promises." + +Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her +with a sort of grave pity. + +"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally. + +"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied. + +"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine." + +"I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm. + +Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my +companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face. + +He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together +with a strange mixture of force and gentleness. + +King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes +of Morhange held him fascinated. + +"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea. + +It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was +overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply. + +"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he +would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name." + +So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From +the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to +him. + +"Listen," she said. + +How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless +for the first time! + +"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I +hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your +life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...." + +"I have remembered all that," said Morhange. + +"A last time," she repeated. + +The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely +noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of +worldliness remained. + +"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking. + +Morhange was not even looking at her. + +"As you will," she said. + +Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa +appeared. + +"Leave the room!" + +Morhange, his head held high, went out. + +Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom +I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl. + +So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped +out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in +the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her +mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... _O tremblant +coeur humain_.... + +Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the +langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice, +the voice which is murmuring: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it." + +My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft, +nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems +as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant +censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it." + +Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in +her great eyes. + +Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a +little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong +with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she +struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver +head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death.... + +I see nothing more.... + + + + +XVII + +THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS + + +I awakened in my room. The sun, already at its zenith, filled the +place with unbearable light and heat. + +The first thing I saw, on opening my eyes, was the shade, ripped down, +lying in the middle of the floor. Then, confusedly, the night's events +began to come back to me. + +My head felt stupid and heavy. My mind wandered. My memory seemed +blocked. "I went out with the leopard, that is certain. That red mark +on my forefinger shows how he strained at the leash. My knees are +still dusty. I remember creeping along the wall in the room where the +white Tuareg were playing at dice. That was the minute after King +Hiram had leapt past them. After that ... oh, Morhange and Antinea.... +And then?" + +I recalled nothing more. I recalled nothing more. But something must +have happened, something which I could not remember. + +I was uneasy. I wanted to go back, yet it seemed as if I were afraid +to go. I have never felt anything more painful than those conflicting +emotions. + +"It is a long way from here to Antinea's apartments. I must have been +very sound asleep not to have noticed when they brought me back--for +they have brought me back." + +I stopped trying to think it out. My head ached too much. + +"I must have air," I murmured. "I am roasting here; it will drive me +mad." + +I had to see someone, no matter whom. Mechanically, I walked toward +the library. + +I found M. Le Mesge in a transport of delirious joy. The Professor was +engaged in opening an enormous bale, carefully sewed in a brown +blanket. + +"You come at a good time, sir," he cried, on seeing me enter. "The +magazines have just arrived." + +He dashed about in feverish haste. Presently a stream of pamphlets and +magazines, blue, green, yellow and salmon, was bursting from an +opening in the bale. + +"Splendid, splendid!" he cried, dancing with joy. "Not too late, +either; here are the numbers for October fifteenth. We must give a +vote of thanks to good Ameur." + +His good spirits were contagious. + +"There is a good Turkish merchant who subscribes to all the +interesting magazines of the two continents. He sends them on by +Rhadamès to a destination which he little suspects. Ah, here are the +French ones." + +M. Le Mesge ran feverishly over, the tables of contents. + +"Internal politics: articles by Francis Charmes, Anatole +Leroy-Beaulieu, d'Haussonville on the Czar's trip to Paris. Look, a +study by Avenel of wages in the Middle Ages. And verse, verses of the +young poets, Fernand Gregh, Edmond Haraucourt. Ah, the resumé of a +book by Henry de Castries on Islam. That may be interesting.... Take +what you please." + +Joy makes people amiable and M. Le Mesge was really delirious with it. + +A puff of breeze came from the window. I went to the balustrade and, +resting my elbows on it, began to run through a number of the _Revue +des Deux Mondes_. + +I did not read, but flipped over the pages, my eyes now on the lines +of swarming little black characters, now on the rocky basin which lay +shivering, pale pink, under the declining sun. + +Suddenly my attention became fixed. There was a strange coincidence +between the text and the landscape. + +"In the sky overhead were only light shreds of cloud, like bits of +white ash floating up from burnt-out logs. The sun fell over a circle +of rocky peaks, silhouetting their severe lines against the azure sky. +From on high, a great sadness and gentleness poured down into the +lonely enclosure, like a magic drink into a deep cup...."[17] + +[Footnote 17: Gabrielle d'Annunzio: _Les Vierges aux Rochers_. Cf. The +_Revue des Deux Mondes_ of October 15, 1896; page 867.] + +I turned the pages feverishly. My mind seemed to be clearing. + +Behind me, M. Le Mesge, deep in an article, voiced his opinions in +indignant growls. + +I continued reading: + +"On all sides a magnificent view spread out before us in the raw +light. The chain of rocks, clearly visible in their barren desolation +which stretched to the very summit, lay stretched out like some great +heap of gigantic, unformed things left by some primordial race of +Titans to stupefy human beings. Overturned towers...." + +"It is shameful, downright shameful," the Professor was repeating. + +"Overturned towers, crumbling citadels, cupolas fallen in, broken +pillars, mutilated colossi, prows of vessels, thighs of monsters, +bones of titans,--this mass, impassable with its ridges and gullies, +seemed the embodiment of everything huge and tragic. So clear were the +distances...." + +"Downright shameful," M. Le Mesge kept on saying in exasperation, +thumping his fist on the table. + +"So clear were the distances that I could see, as if I had it under my +eyes, infinitely enlarged, every contour of the rock which Violante +had shown me through the window with the gesture of a creator...." + +Trembling, I closed the magazine. At my feet, now red, I saw the rock +which Antinea had pointed out to me the day of our first interview, +huge, steep, overhanging the reddish brown garden. + +"That is my horizon," she had said. + +M. Le Mesge's excitement had passed all bounds. + +"It is worse than shameful; it is infamous." + +I almost wanted to strangle him into silence. He seized my arm. + +"Read that, sir; and, although you don't know a great deal about the +subject, you will see that this article on Roman Africa is a miracle +of misinformation, a monument of ignorance. And it is signed ... do +you know by whom it is signed?" + +"Leave me alone," I said brutally. + +"Well, it is signed Gaston Boissier. Yes, sir! Gaston Boissier, grand +officer of the Legion of Honor, lecturer at the _Ecole Normale +Supérieure_, permanent secretary of the French Academy, member of the +Academy of Inscriptions and Literature, one of those who once ruled +out the subject of my thesis ... one of those ... ah, poor university, +ah, poor France!" + +I was no longer listening. I had begun to read again. My forehead was +covered with sweat. But it seemed as if my head had been cleared like +a room when a window is opened; memories were beginning to come back +like doves winging their way home to the dovecote. + +"At that moment, an irrepressible tremor shook her whole body; her +eyes dilated as if some terrible sight had filled them with horror. + +"'Antonello,' she murmured. + +"And for seconds, she was unable to say another word. + +"I looked at her in mute anguish and the suffering which drew her dear +lips together seemed also to clutch at my heart. The vision which was +in her eyes passed into mine, and I saw again the thin white face of +Antonello, and the quick quivering of his eyelids, the waves of agony +which seized his long worn body and shook it like a reed." + +I threw the magazine upon the table. + +"That is it," I said. + +To cut the pages, I had used the knife with which M. Le Mesge had cut +the cords of the bale, a short ebony-handled dagger, one of those +daggers that the Tuareg wear in a bracelet sheath against the upper +left arm. + +I slipped it into the big pocket of my flannel dolman and walked +toward the door. + +I was about to cross the threshold when I heard M. Le Mesge call me. + +"Monsieur de Saint Avit! Monsieur de Saint Avit! + +"I want to ask you something, please." + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing important. You know that I have to mark the labels for the +red marble hall...." + +I walked toward the table. + +"Well, I forgot to ask M. Morhange, at the beginning, the date and +place of his birth. After that, I had no chance. I did not see him +again. So I am forced to turn to you. Perhaps you can tell me?" + +"I can," I said very calmly. + +He took a large white card from a box which contained several and +dipped his pen. + +"Number 54 ... Captain?" + +"Captain Jean-Marie-François Morhange." + +While I dictated, one hand resting on the table, I noticed on my cuff +a stain, a little stain, reddish brown. + +"Morhange," repeated M. Le Mesge, finishing the lettering of my +friend's name. "Born at...?" + +"Villefranche." + +"Villefranche, Rhône. What date?" + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859." + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859. Good. Died at Ahaggar, the fifth of +January, 1897.... There, that is done. A thousand thanks, sir, for +your kindness." + +"You are welcome." + +I left M. Le Mesge. + +My mind, thenceforth, was well made up; and, as I said, I was +perfectly calm. Nevertheless, when I had taken leave of M. Le Mesge, I +felt the need of waiting a few minutes before executing my decision. + +First I wandered through the corridors; then, finding myself near my +room, I went to it. It was still intolerably hot. I sat down on my +divan and began to think. + +The dagger in my pocket bothered me. I took it out and laid it on the +floor. + +It was a good dagger, with a diamond-shaped blade, and with a collar +of orange leather between the blade and the handle. + +The sight of it recalled the silver hammer. I remembered how easily it +fitted into my hand when I struck.... + +Every detail of the scene came back to me with incomparable vividness. +But I did not even shiver. It seemed as if my determination to kill +the instigator of the murder permitted me peacefully to evoke its +brutal details. + +If I reflected over my deed, it was to be surprised at it, not to +condemn myself. + +"Well," I said to myself, "I have killed this Morhange, who was once a +baby, who, like all the others, cost his mother so much trouble with +his baby sicknesses. I have put an end to his life, I have reduced to +nothingness the monument of love, of tears, of trials overcome and +pitfalls escaped, which constitutes a human existence. What an +extraordinary adventure!" + +That was all. No fear, no remorse, none of that Shakespearean horror +after the murder, which, today, sceptic though I am and blasé and +utterly, utterly disillusioned, sets me shuddering whenever I am alone +in a dark room. + +"Come," I thought. "It's time. Time to finish it up." + +I picked up the dagger. Before putting it in my pocket, I went through +the motion of striking. All was well. The dagger fitted into my hand. + +I had been through Antinea's apartment only when guided, the first +time by the white Targa, the second time, by the leopard. Yet I found +the way again without trouble. Just before coming to the door with the +rose window, I met a Targa. + +"Let me pass," I ordered. "Your mistress has sent for me." The man +obeyed, stepping back. + +Soon a dim melody came to my ears. I recognized the sound of a +_rebaza_, the violin with a single string, played by the Tuareg women. +It was Aguida playing, squatting as usual at the feet of her mistress. +The three other women were also squatted about her. Tanit-Zerga was +not there. + +Oh! Since that was the last time I saw her, let, oh, let me tell you +of Antinea, how she looked in that supreme moment. + +Did she feel the danger hovering over her and did she wish to brave it +by her surest artifices? I had in mind the slender; unadorned body, +without rings, without jewels, which I had pressed to my heart the +night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me, +adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen! + +The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On +her head was the great gold _pschent_ of Egyptian gods and kings; +emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing +and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin _schenti_, +embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel. +At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare +arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as +if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the _pschent_ +streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her +determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat. + +She smiled as I entered. + +"I was expecting you," she said simply. + +I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before +her. + +She looked at me ironically. + +"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm. + +I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my +pocket. + +I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike. + +"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the +red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women, +whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring. + +She turned to me. + +"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to +my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than +with the dagger." + +"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you." + +"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are +you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes +were wide with terror. + +"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the +moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...." + +"Did--did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling. + +"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done +nothing else all your life." + +"Like little Kaine," I murmured. + +She smiled in surprise. + +"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least +Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand." + +"I do not understand myself, very well." + +She looked at me with amused curiosity. + +"Antinea," I said. + +"What is it?" + +"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one +question?" + +"What is it?" + +"It was dark, was it not, in the room where _he_ was?" + +"Very dark. I had to lead you to the bed where he lay asleep." + +"He _was_ asleep, you are sure?" + +"I said so." + +"He--did not die instantly, did he?" + +"No. I know exactly when he died; two minutes after you struck him and +fled with a shriek." + +"Then surely _he_ could not have known?" + +"Known what?" + +"That it was I who--who held the hammer." + +"He might not have known it, indeed," Antinea said. "But he did know." + +"How?" + +"He did know ... because I told him," she said, staring at me with +magnificent audacity. + +"And," I murmured, "he--he believed it?" + +"With the help of my explanation, he recognized your shriek. If he had +not realized that you were his murderer, the affair would not have +interested me," she finished with a scornful little smile. + +Four steps, I said, separated me from Antinea. I sprang forward. But, +before I reached her, I was struck to the floor. + +King Hiram had leapt at my throat. + +At the same moment I heard the calm, haughty voice of Antinea: + +"Call the men," she commanded. + +A second later I was released from the leopard's clutch. The six white +Tuareg had surrounded me and were trying to bind me. + +I am fairly strong and quick. I was on my feet in a second. One of my +enemies lay on the floor, ten feet away, felled by a well-placed blow +on the jaw. Another was gasping under my knee. That was the last time +I saw Antinea. She stood erect, both hands resting on her ebony +scepter, watching the struggle with a smile of contemptuous interest. + +Suddenly I gave a loud cry and loosed the hold I had on my victim. A +cracking in my left arm: one of the Tuareg had seized it and twisted +until my shoulder was dislocated. + +When I completely lost consciousness, I was being carried down the +corridor by two white phantoms, so bound that I could not move a +muscle. + + + + +XVIII + +THE FIRE-FLIES + + +Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my +room. + +A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay. + +"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips. + +"Sh! Yes, it is I." + +I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my +shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed +mind. + +"Oh, little one, if you knew!" + +"I know," she said. + +I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a +fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me. + +"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get me +away from here." + +"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at the +door." + +"Take me away; save me," I repeated. + +"That is what I came for," she said simply. + +I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk +tunic. A plain white _haik_ was wrapped about her; and she had drawn +one corner of it over her head. + +"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice. + +"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gâo, the +village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the +green water. + +"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated, +"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared +speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of +_her_.... But you, you wanted to kill her." + +I gave a low moan. + +"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm." + +"Dislocated it anyhow." + +"Let me see." + +With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my +shoulder. + +"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, +Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?" + +"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular +line halved its blue opening. + +Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. +A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the +opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound. + +She came back to me. + +"How can we escape?" I asked. + +"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window. + +I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching +for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had +dashed himself. + +"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet from +here to the ground." + +"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strong +rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is +quite new." + +"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!" + +"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are. +Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of +the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of +them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight. + +"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. I +can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest." + +"And you?" I asked. + +"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and +follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands +too much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gâo, when I was +just a child, I used to climb almost as high as this in the gum trees +to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to +climb down." + +"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way +through the barriers?" + +"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "except +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea." + +"Then?" + +"There are the camels of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on +his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below +us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will +be well fed when we start." + +"But...." I still protested. + +She stamped her foot. + +"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to +see Gâo once again, Gâo with its blue gum-trees and its green water." + +I felt myself blushing. + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of +the desert than stay here. Let us start." + +"Tut!" she said. "Not yet." + +She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight. + +"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will +have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time." + +She sat silent, her _haik_ wrapped completely about her dark little +figure. Was she praying? Perhaps. + +Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The +moon had turned. + +Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I +tried not to tremble. + +Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga +began to speak: + +"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here +is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it +pressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It is +tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against +the bumping and scraping." + +I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the sill of the +window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks +refreshed me. + +I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket. + +"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You +will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and +follow you." + +She held my hand a moment. + +"Now go," she murmured. + +I went. + +I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with +vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, +against the perfectly smooth wall. + +"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have been +hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am +stopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but +it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove +with my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. +I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I was +down. + +Immediately I began to get nervous again. + +I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, +I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of +the mountain, and put my foot on it. + +Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it. + +One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky +night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their +pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, +disappeared. + +"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope." + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side. + +I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let +go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks. + +"Give it to me," he repeated with authority. + +And he took it from my hands. + +I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great +dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, with a dislocated +shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? +What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding +the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much +better than I had been able to do. + +A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form. + +"There," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his +powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let +slack, slapped back against the rock. + +Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned. + +He put his hand roughly over her mouth. + +"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly." + +He seized her arm. Then he turned to me. + +"Come," he said in an imperious tone. + +I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teeth +chattering with terror. + +We reached a little cave. + +"Go in," said the Targa. + +He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully +chewing his cud. + +"The little one is not stupid," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to +the animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. +But she is rattle-brained." + +He held the torch nearer the camel. + +"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. No +water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you +would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!" + +Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa +with a mixture of terror and hope. + +"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I can +explain to you." + +When I was beside him, he said: + +"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as long +as possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may be +that you will not find a well for three hundred miles. + +"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat. +Not many, for water is much more precious. Here also is a carbine, +your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. And +there is this." + +He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent over +it; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me. + +"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked. + +"Toward Idelès, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me," +I said. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh shook his head. + +"I thought as much," he murmured. + +Then he added coldly: + +"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have been +caught and massacred." + +"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is under +the control of Antinea. You must go south." + +"Then we shall go south." + +"By what route?" + +"Why, by Silet and Timissao." + +The Targa again shook his head. + +"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a good +road, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar with +it. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells." + +"Well, then?" + +"Well," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road from +Timissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from here +toward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That is +the boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the Awellimiden +Tuareg." + +The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in: + +"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried me +into slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of the +Awellimiden." + +"Be still, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh. + +Then addressing me, he continued: + +"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The +Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French. +Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other +hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow +you into their country. What I have said, is said. You must rejoin +the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the +Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach +the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy +of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi +is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight." + +"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross +the Tanezruft." + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft +is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would +shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He +knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or +become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is +the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have +to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of +the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route. + +"You can stay here," he added. + +"My choice is made, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I announced. + +"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail +begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It +ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them +too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the +route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the +little one. Two make less noise than four." + +We went a long way in silence. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his +camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep +gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a +thick tangle of rocks and briars. + +Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light +filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had stopped. + +"Get down," he said. + +A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a +copper cup with the water. + +"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed. + +"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents +of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset." + +He looked over the saddle girths. + +"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will +be here. You must be out of sight." + +I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and +took his hand. + +"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing +this?" + +He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam. + +"Why?" he said. + +"Yes, why?" + +He replied with dignity: + +"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pity +take the place of duty. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permission +to the advantage of one who saved his life." + +"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of +Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head. + +"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. +"It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain +met his death." + +I was horrified at this logical reply. + +"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the +little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is +coming." + +I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew +back. + +"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes +of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you +nor for anyone else." + +And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not +protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which still sounds in my +ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to +you." + +I looked at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. +"For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the +help of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering. + +"You will come back," the Targa replied. + +He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock. + +"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now, +but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world with +the same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow you +everywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you will +pass again through the corridor through which you have just come." + +"Be still, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice of +Tanit-Zerga. + +"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh. + +He sneered. + +"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. She +knows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti." + +"Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead. + +"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhât and Rhadamès eight +years ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make him +forget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and he +succeeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back to +his country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day, +when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tattered +creature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for the +entrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, come +back. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall." + +The Targa smiled slightly. + +"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear. +But enough of this. Mount your camel." + +I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated behind me, put +her little arms around me. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was still holding the +bridle. + +"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violet +sky of the southern horizon. "You see the _gour_ there; that is your +way. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise. +Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not stray +from the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days." + +The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from the +south. + +The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand. + +"Now go." + +"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you, +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell." + +I heard his voice replying in the distance: + +"_Au revoir_, Lieutenant de Saint Avit." + + + + +XIX + +THE TANEZRUFT + + +During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five +leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the _gour_ which +the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher +against the paling sky. + +The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts +of _retem_, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left. + +I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering: + +"Stop the camel." + +At first I did not understand. + +"Stop him," she repeated. + +Her hand pulled sharply at my right arm. + +I obeyed. The camel slackened his pace with very bad grace. + +"Listen," she said. + +At first I heard nothing. Then a very slight noise, a dry rustling +behind us. + +"Stop the camel," Tanit-Zerga commanded. "It is not worth while to +make him kneel." + +A little gray creature bounded on the camel. The mehari set out again +at his best speed. + +"Let him go," said Tanit-Zerga. "Galé has jumped on." + +I felt a tuft of bristly hair under my arm. The mongoose had followed +our footsteps and rejoined us. I heard the quick panting of the brave +little creature becoming gradually slower and slower. + +"I am happy," murmured Tanit-Zerga. + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had not been mistaken. We reached the _gour_ as the +sun rose. I looked back. The Atakor was nothing more than a monstrous +chaos amid the night mists which trailed the dawn. It was no longer +possible to pick out from among the nameless peaks, the one on which +Antinea was still weaving her passionate plots. + +You know what the Tanezruft is, the "plain of plains," abandoned, +uninhabitable, the country of hunger and thirst. We were then starting +on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the +south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works +under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without +vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast." + +Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this +rocky desert. Oh, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh did not exaggerate in saying that +no one would dream of following us into that country. + +Great patches of oblivion still refused to clear away. Memories chased +each other incoherently about my head. A sentence came back to me +textually: "It seemed to Dick that he had never, since the beginning +of original darkness, done anything at all save jolt through the air." +I gave a little laugh. "In the last few hours," I thought, "I have +been heaping up literary situations. A while ago, a hundred feet above +the ground, I was Fabrice of _La Chartreuse de Parme_ beside his +Italian dungeon. Now, here on my camel, I am Dick of _The Light That +Failed_, crossing the desert to meet his companions in arms." I +chuckled again; then shuddered. I thought of the preceding night, of +the Orestes of _Andromaque_ who agreed to sacrifice Pyrrhus. A +literary situation indeed.... + +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had reckoned eight days to get to the wooded +country of the Awellimiden, forerunners of the grassy steppes of the +Soudan. He knew well the worth of his beast. Tanit-Zerga had suddenly +given him a name, _El Mellen_, the white one, for the magnificent +mehari had an almost spotless coat. Once he went two days without +eating, merely picking up here and there a branch of an acacia tree +whose hideous white spines, four inches long, filled me with fear for +our friend's oesophagus. The wells marked out by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh +were indeed at the indicated spots, but we found nothing in them but a +burning yellow mud. It was enough for the camel, enough so that at the +end of the fifth day, thanks to prodigious self-control, we had used +up only one of our two water skins. Then we believed ourselves safe. + +Near one of these muddy puddles, I succeeded that day in shooting down +a little straight-horned desert gazelle. Tanit-Zerga skinned the beast +and we regaled ourselves with a delicious haunch. Meantime, little +Galé, who never ceased prying about the cracks in the rocks during our +mid-day halts in the heat, discovered an _ourane_, a sand crocodile, +five feet long, and made short work of breaking his neck. She ate so +much she could not budge. It cost us a pint of water to help her +digestion. We gave it with good grace, for we were happy. Tanit-Zerga +did not say so, but her joy at knowing that I was thinking no more of +the woman in the gold diadem and the emeralds was apparent. And +really, during those days, I hardly thought of her. I thought only of +the torrid heat to be avoided, of the water skins which, if you wished +to drink fresh water, had to be left for an hour in a cleft in the +rocks; of the intense joy which seized you when you raised to your +lips a leather goblet brimming with that life-saving water.... I can +say this with authority, with good authority, indeed; passion, +spiritual or physical, is a thing for those who have eaten and drunk +and rested. + +It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The frightful heat was +slackening. We had left a kind of rocky crevice where we had had a +little nap. Seated on a huge rock, we were watching the reddening +west. + +I spread out the roll of paper on which Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had marked +the stages of our journey as far as the road from the Soudan. I +realized again with joy that his itinerary was exact and that I had +followed it scrupulously. + +"The evening of the day after to-morrow," I said, "we shall be setting +out on the stage which will take us, by the next dawn, to the waters +at Telemsi. Once there, we shall not have to worry any more about +water." + +Tanit-Zerga's eyes danced in her thin face. + +"And Gâo?" she asked. + +"We will be only a week from the Niger. And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh said +that at Telemsi, one reached a road overhung with mimosa." + +"I know the mimosa," she said. "They are the little yellow balls that +melt in your hand. But I like the caper flowers better. You will come +with me to Gâo. My father, Sonni-Azkia, was killed, as I told you, by +the Awellimiden. But my people must have rebuilt the villages. They +are used to that. You will see how you will be received." + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga, I promise you. But you also, you must promise +me...." + +"What? Oh, I guess. You must take me for a little fool if you believe +me capable of speaking of things which might make trouble for my +friend." + +She looked at me as she spoke. Privation and great fatigue had +chiselled the brown face where her great eyes shone.... Since then, I +have had time to assemble the maps and compasses, and to fix forever +the spot where, for the first time, I understood the beauty of +Tanit-Zerga's eyes. + +There was a deep silence between us. It was she who broke it. + +"Night is coming. We must eat so as to leave as soon as possible." + +She stood up and went toward the rocks. + +Almost immediately, I heard her calling in an anguished voice that +sent a chill through me. + +"Come! Oh, come see!" + +With a bound, I was at her side. + +"The camel," she murmured. "The camel!" + +I looked, and a deadly shudder seized me. + +Stretched out at full length, on the other side of the rocks, his pale +flanks knotted up by convulsive spasms, _El Mellen_ lay in anguish. + +I need not say that we rushed to him in feverish haste. Of what _El +Mellen_ was dying, I did not know, I never have known. All the mehara +are that way. They are at once the most enduring and the most delicate +of beasts. They will travel for six months across the most frightful +deserts, with little food, without water, and seem only the better for +it. Then, one day when nothing is the matter, they stretch out and +give you the slip with disconcerting ease. + +When Tanit-Zerga and I saw that there was nothing more to do, we stood +there without a word, watching his slackening spasms. When he breathed +his last, we felt that our life, as well as his, had gone. + +It was Tanit-Zerga who spoke first. + +"How far are we from the Soudan road?" she asked. + +"We are a hundred and twenty miles from the springs of Telemsi," I +replied. "We could make thirty miles by going toward Iferouane; but +the wells are not marked on that route." + +"Then we must walk toward the springs of Telemsi," she said. "A +hundred and twenty miles, that makes seven days?" + +"Seven days at the least, Tanit-Zerga." + +"How far is it to the first well?" + +"Thirty-five miles." + +The little girl's face contracted somewhat. But she braced up quickly. + +"We must set out at once." + +"Set out on foot, Tanit-Zerga!" + +She stamped her foot. I marveled to see her so strong. + +"We must go," she repeated. "We are going to eat and drink and make +Galé eat and drink, for we cannot carry all the tins, and the water +skin is so heavy that we should not get three miles if we tried to +carry it. We will put a little water in one of the tins after emptying +it through a little hole. That will be enough for to-night's stage, +which will be eighteen miles without water. To-morrow we will set out +for another eighteen miles and we will reach the wells marked on the +paper by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +"Oh," I murmured sadly, "if my shoulder were only not this way, I +could carry the water skin." + +"It is as it is," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"You will take your carbine and two tins of meat. I shall take two +more and the one filled with water. Come. We must leave in an hour if +we wish to cover the eighteen miles. You know that when the sun is up, +the rocks are so hot we cannot walk." + +I leave you to imagine in what sad silence we passed that hour which +we had begun so happily and confidently. Without the little girl, I +believe I should have seated myself upon a rock and waited. Galé only +was happy. + +"We must not let her eat too much," said Tanit-Zerga. "She would not +be able to follow us. And to-morrow she must work. If she catches +another _ourane_, it will be for us." + + +You have walked in the desert. You know how terrible the first hours +of the night are. When the moon comes up, huge and yellow, a sharp +dust seems to rise in suffocating clouds. You move your jaws +mechanically as if to crush the dust that finds its way into your +throat like fire. Then usually a kind of lassitude, of drowsiness, +follows. You walk without thinking. You forget where you are walking. +You remember only when you stumble. Of course you stumble often. But +anyway it is bearable. "The night is ending," you say, "and with it +the march. All in all, I am less tired than at the beginning." The +night ends, but then comes the most terrible hour of all. You are +perishing of thirst and shaking with cold. All the fatigue comes back +at once. The horrible breeze which precedes the dawn is no comfort. +Quite the contrary. Every time you stumble, you say, "The next misstep +will be the last." + +That is what people feel and say even when they know that in a few +hours they will have a good rest with food and water. + +I was suffering terribly. Every step jolted my poor shoulder. At one +time, I wanted to stop, to sit down. Then I looked at Tanit-Zerga. She +was walking ahead with her eyes almost closed. Her expression was an +indefinable one of mingled suffering and determination. I closed my +own eyes and went on. + +Such was the first stage. At dawn we stopped in a hollow in the rocks. +Soon the heat forced us to rise to seek a deeper one. Tanit-Zerga did +not eat. Instead, she swallowed a little of her half can of water. She +lay drowsy all day. Galé ran about our rock giving plaintive little +cries. + +I am not going to tell you about the second march. It was more +horrible than anything you can imagine. I suffered all that it is +humanly possible to suffer in the desert. But already I began to +observe with infinite pity that my man's strength was outlasting the +nervous force of my little companion. The poor child walked on without +saying a word, chewing feebly one corner of her _haik_ which she had +drawn over her face. Galé followed. + +The well toward which we were dragging ourselves was indicated on +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's paper by the one word _Tissaririn. Tissaririn_ is +the plural of _Tissarirt_ and means "two isolated trees." + +Day was dawning when finally I saw the two trees, two gum trees. +Hardly a league separated us from them. I gave a cry of joy. + +"Courage, Tanit-Zerga, there is the well." + +She drew her veil aside and I saw the poor anguished little face. + +"So much the better," she murmured, "because otherwise...." + +She could not even finish the sentence. + +We finished the last half mile almost at a run. We already saw the +hole, the opening of the well. + +Finally we reached it. + +It was empty. + +It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the +suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become +partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to +you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history +composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign +of Marengo." Obstinately I repeated to myself, "I have already said +that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's +charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only +twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces." + +I kept on repeating: + +"Twelve pieces." + +Then I fell into a sort of coma. + +I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I +opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which +burnt so. + +"Get up," she said. "We must go on." + +"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. +It is noon." + +"We must go on," she repeated. + +Then I saw that she was delirious. + +She was standing erect. Her _haik_ had fallen to the ground and little +Galé, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it. + +Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating: + +"We must go on." + +A little sense came back to me. + +"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head." + +"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gâo is over there, not far away. I +can feel it. I want to see Gâo again." + +I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that +all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me, +brought back my senses. + +"Gâo is just over there, isn't it?" she asked. + +Her gleaming eyes became imploring. + +"Yes, dear little girl. Gâo is there. But for God's sake lie down. The +sun is fearful." + +"Oh, Gâo, Gâo!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gâo +again." + +She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine. + +"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see +Gâo again." + +"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet." + +"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where +there is water, at Gâo, where my father was a prince, there was.... +Well, one day, one feast day, there came from the interior of the +country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask +and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag. +On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he +danced the _boussadilla_. I was in the first row, and because I had a +necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of +a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire +over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce +Kountas, of everything, and finally he said: + +"'Have no fear, little girl.' + +"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for +you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gâo gleaming +on the horizon, no longer a servile Gâo reduced to the rank of a +little Negro town, but the splendid Gâo of other days, the great +capital of the country of the blacks, Gâo reborn, with its mosque of +seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with +cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with +great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of +deliverance and of royalty.'" + +Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun +blazed on the _hamada_, burning it white. + +Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry. + +"Gâo! There is Gâo!" + +I looked at her. + +"Gâo," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the +fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red +and white flowers. Gâo...." + +Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty +buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow. +Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly +before us. + +"Gâo!" I cried. "Gâo!" + +And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror. +Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch +the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper: + +"And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance +and of royalty." + +Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the +desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where +Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she +was to rest. + +When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear +little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew +the _haik_ over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the +hollow. + +I had reckoned without Galé. + +The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I +was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall +on the _haik_, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready +to spring, her eyes daring fire. + +"Galé!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her. + +She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig, +throwing the sand furiously aside. + +I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never +finish my task and that, even if I did, Galé would stay there and +disinter the body. + +My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty +desert. A moment later, Galé also slept her last sleep, curled up, as +I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress. + +When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled +sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert, +toward the south. + + + + +XX + +THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE + + +At the foot of the valley of the Mia, at the place where the jackal +had cried the night Saint-Avit told me he had killed Morhange, another +jackal, or perhaps the same one, howled again. + +Immediately I had a feeling that this night would see the +irremediable fulfilled. + +We were seated that evening, as before, on the poor veranda improvised +outside our dining-room. The floor was of plaster, the balustrade of +twisted branches; four posts supported a thatched roof. + +I have already said that from the veranda one could look far out over +the desert. As he finished speaking, Saint-Avit rose and stood leaning +his elbows on the railing. I followed him. + +"And then...." I said. + +He looked at me. + +"And then what? Surely you know what all the newspapers told--how, in +the country of the Awellimiden, I was found dying of hunger and thirst +by an expedition under the command of Captain Aymard, and taken to +Timbuctoo. I was delirious for a month afterward. I have never known +what I may have said during those spells of burning fever. You may be +sure the officers of the Timbuctoo Club did not feel it incumbent upon +them to tell me. When I told them of my adventures, as they are +related in the report of the Morhange--Saint-Avit Expedition, I could +see well enough from the cold politeness with which they received my +explanations, that the official version which I gave them differed at +certain points from the fragments which had escaped me in my delirium. + +"They did not press the matter. It remains understood that Captain +Morhange died from a sunstroke and that I buried him on the border of +the Tarhit watercourse, three marches from Timissao. Everybody can +detect that there are things missing in my story. Doubtless they guess +at some mysterious drama. But proofs are another matter. Because of +the impossibility of collecting them, they prefer to smother what +could only become a silly scandal. But now you know all the details as +well as I." + +"And--she?" I asked timidly. + +He smiled triumphantly. It was triumph at having led me to think no +longer of Morhange, or of his crime, the triumph of feeling that he +had succeeded in imbuing me with his own madness. + +"Yes," he said. "She! For six years I have learned nothing more about +her. But I see her, I talk with her. I am thinking now how I shall +reenter her presence. I shall throw myself at her feet and say simply, +'Forgive me. I rebelled against your law. I did not know. But now I +know; and you see that, like Lieutenant Ghiberti, I have come back.' + +"'Family, honor, country,' said old Le Mesge, 'you will forget all for +her.' Old Le Mesge is a stupid man, but he speaks from experience. He +knows, he who has seen broken before Antinea the wills of the fifty +ghosts in the red marble hall. + +"And now, will you, in your turn, ask me 'What is this woman?' Do I +know myself? And besides, what difference does it make? What does her +past and the mystery of her origin matter to me; what does it matter +whether she is the true descendant of the god of the sea and the +sublime Lagides or the bastard of a Polish drunkard and a harlot of +the Marbeuf quarter? + +"At the time when I was foolish enough to be jealous of Morhange, +these questions might have made some difference to the ridiculous +self-esteem that civilized people mix up with passion. But I have held +Antinea's body in my arms. I no longer wish to know any other, nor if +the fields are in blossom, nor what will become of the human +spirit.... + +"I do not wish to know. Or, rather, it is because I have too exact a +vision of that future, that I pretend to destroy myself in the only +destiny that is worth while: a nature unfathomed and virgin, a +mysterious love. + +"_A nature unfathomed and virgin_. I must explain myself. One winter +day, in a large city all streaked with the soot that falls from black +chimneys of factories and of those horrible houses in the suburbs, I +attended a funeral. + +"We followed the hearse in the mud. The church was new, damp and poor. +Aside from two or three people, relatives struck down by a dull +sorrow, everyone had just one idea: to find some pretext to get away. +Those who went as far as the cemetery were those who did not find an +excuse. I see the gray walls and the cypresses, those trees of sun and +shade, so beautiful in the country of southern France against the low +purple hills. I see the horrible undertaker's men in greasy jackets +and shiny top hats. I see.... No, I'll stop; it's too horrible. + +"Near the wall, in a remote plot, a grave had been dug in frightful +yellow pebbly clay. It was there that they left the dead man whose +name I no longer remember. + +"While they were lowering the casket, I looked at my hands, those +hands which in that strangely lighted country had pressed the hands of +Antinea. A great pity for my body seized me, a great fear of what +threatened it in these cities of mud. 'So,' I said to myself, 'it may +be that this body, this dear body, will come to such an end! No, no, +my body, precious above all other treasures, I swear to you that I +will spare you that ignominy; you shall not rot under a registered +number in the filth of a suburban cemetery. Your brothers in love, the +fifty knights of orichalch, await you, mute and grave, in the red +marble hall. I shall take you back to them.' + +"A _mysterious love_. Shame to him who retails the secrets of his +loves. The Sahara lays its impassable barrier about Antinea; that is +why the most unreasonable requirements of this woman are, in reality, +more modest and chaste than your marriage will be, with its vulgar +public show, the bans, the invitations, the announcements telling an +evil-minded and joking people that after such and such an hour, on +such and such a day, you will have the right to violate your little +tupenny virgin. + +"I think that is all I have to tell you. No, there is still one thing +more. I told you a while ago about the red marble hall. South of +Cherchell, to the west of the Mazafran river, on a hill which in the +early morning, emerges from the mists of the Mitidja, there is a +mysterious stone pyramid. The natives call it, 'The Tomb of the +Christian.' That is where the body of Antinea's ancestress, that +Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, was laid to +rest. Though it is placed in the path of invasions, this tomb has kept +its treasure. No one has ever been able to discover the painted room +where the beautiful body reposes in a glass casket. All that the +ancestress has been able to do, the descendant will be able to surpass +in grim magnificence. In the center of the red marble hall, on the +rock whence comes the plaint of the gloomy fountain, a platform is +reserved. It is there, on an orichalch throne, with the Egyptian +head-dress and the golden serpent on her brow and the trident of +Neptune in her hand, that the marvelous woman I have told you about +will be ensconced on that day when the hundred and twenty niches, +hollowed out in a circle around her throne, shall each have received +its willing prey. + +"When I left Ahaggar, you remember that it was niche number 55 that +was to be mine. Since then, I have never stopped calculating and I +conclude that it is in number 80 or 85 that I shall repose. But any +calculations based upon so fragile a foundation as a woman's whim may +be erroneous. That is why I am getting more and more nervous. 'I must +hurry,' I tell myself. 'I must hurry.' + +"I must hurry," I repeated, as if I were in a dream. + +He raised his head with an indefinable expression of joy. His hand +trembled with happiness when he shook mine. + +"You will see," he repeated excitedly, "you will see." + +Ecstatically, he took me in his arms and held me there a long moment. + +An extraordinary happiness swept over both of us, while, alternately +laughing and crying like children, we kept repeating: + +"We must hurry. We must hurry." + +Suddenly there sprang up a slight breeze that made the tufts of thatch +in the roof rustle. The sky, pale lilac, grew paler still, and, +suddenly, a great yellow rent tore it in the east. Dawn broke over the +empty desert. From within the stockade came dull noises, a bugle call, +the rattle of chains. The post was waking up. + +For several seconds we stood there silent, our eyes fixed on the +southern route by which one reaches Temassinin, Eguéré and Ahaggar. + +A rap on the dining-room door behind us made us start. + +"Come in," said André de Saint-Avit in a voice which had become +suddenly hard. + +The Quartermaster, Chatelain, stood before us. + +"What do you want of me at this hour?" Saint-Avit asked brusquely. + +The non-com stood at attention. + +"Excuse me, Captain. But a native was discovered near the post, last +night, by the patrol. He was not trying to hide. As soon as he had +been brought here, he asked to be led before the commanding officer. +It was midnight and I didn't want to disturb you." + +"Who is this native?" + +"A Targa, Captain." + +"A Targa? Go get him." + +Chatelain stepped aside. Escorted by one of our native soldiers, the +man stood behind him. + +They came out on the terrace. + +The new arrival, six feet tall, was indeed a Targa. The light of dawn +fell upon his blue-black cotton robes. One could see his great dark +eyes flashing. + +When he was opposite my companion, I saw a tremor, immediately +suppressed, run through both men. + +They looked at each other for an instant in silence. + +Then, bowing, and in a very calm voice, the Targa spoke: + +"Peace be with you, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +In the same calm voice, André answered him: + +"Peace be with you, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh." + +[Transcriber's Notes: +1.In the original books, there were handwritten characters for the +Greek words used in the discussion of the Tifinar engravings; the +approximate Greek transliterations have been substituted. +2. Another inscription was hand-drawn in the book, and the center +symbol looks like a capital W, rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise. I +placed notes to that effect where the symbol appears.] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + +***** This file should be named 14301-8.txt or 14301-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/0/14301/ + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Atlantida + +Author: Pierre Benoit + +Release Date: December 8, 2004 [EBook #14301] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + + + + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<!-- Page 1 --> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"First, I must warn you,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">before beginning this work,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">not to be surprised to hear<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">me calling barbarians by<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Grecian names."<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">—PLATO<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;"><i>Critias</i></span> +</div></div> + +<!-- Page 2 --> +<div class="ctr"> +<img src="images/title.gif" id="title" style="width: 100%;" alt="Title Page" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> + + +<h1>ATLANTIDA</h1> + +<h2><i>Pierre Benoit</i></h2> + +<h3> Translated by Mary C. Tongue and Mary Ross</h3> + +<h3> ACE BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036</h3> + +<!-- Page 3 --> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>To André Suarès</h4> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#I">I. A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II. CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III. THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION</a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV. TOWARDS LATITUDE 25</a><br /> +<a href="#V">V. THE INSCRIPTION</a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI. THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE</a><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII. THE COUNTRY OF FEAR</a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII. AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR</a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX. ATLANTIS</a><br /> +<a href="#X">X. THE RED MARBLE HALL</a><br /> +<a href="#XI">XI. ANTINEA</a><br /> +<a href="#XII">XII. MORHANGE DISAPPEARS</a><br /> +<a href="#XIII">XIII. THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY</a><br /> +<a href="#XIV">XIV. HOURS OF WAITING</a><br /> +<a href="#XV">XV. THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA</a><br /> +<a href="#XVI">XVI. THE SILVER HAMMER</a><br /> +<a href="#XVII">XVII. THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS</a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. THE FIRE-FLIES</a><br /> +<a href="#XIX">XIX. THE TANEZRUFT</a><br /> +<a href="#XX">XX. THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE</a><br /></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 4 --> + + +<div class="ctr"> +<img src="images/illus004.gif" id="p4" style="width: 100%;" alt="Illustration" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>HASSI-INIFEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1903.</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>If the following pages are ever to see the light of day it will be +because they have been stolen from me. The delay that I exact before +they shall be disclosed assures me of that. +<a name="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> + +<p>As to this disclosure, let no one distrust my aim when I prepare for +it, when I insist upon it. You may believe me when I maintain that no +pride of authorship binds me to these pages. Already I am too far<!-- Page 5 --> +removed from all such things. Only it is useless that others should +enter upon the path from which I shall not return.</p> + +<p>Four o'clock in the morning. Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with +its pink fire. All about me the bordj is asleep. Through the half-open +door of his room I hear André de Saint-Avit breathing quietly, very +quietly.</p> + +<p>In two days we shall start, he and I. We shall leave the bordj. We +shall penetrate far down there to the South. The official orders came +this morning.</p> + +<p>Now, even if I wished to withdraw, it is too late. André and I asked +for this mission. The authorization that I sought, together with him, +has at this moment become an order. The hierarchic channels cleared, +the pressure brought to bear at the Ministry;—and then to be afraid, +to recoil before this adventure!...</p> + +<p>To be afraid, I said. I know that I am not afraid! One night in the +Gurara, when I found two of my sentinels slaughtered, with the +shameful cross cut of the Berbers slashed across their stomachs—then +I was afraid. I know what fear is. Just so now, when I gazed into the +black depths, whence suddenly all at once the great red sun will rise, +I know that it is not with fear that I tremble. I feel surging within +me the sacred horror of this mystery, and its irresistible attraction.</p> + +<p>Delirious dreams, perhaps. The mad imaginings of a brain surcharged, +and an eye distraught by mirages. The day will come, doubtless, when I +shall reread these pages with an indulgent smile, as a man of fifty is +accustomed to smile when he rereads old letters.</p> + +<p>Delirious dreams. Mad imaginings. But these dreams, these imaginings, +are dear to me. "Captain de Saint-Avit and Lieutenant Ferrières," +reads the official dispatch, "will proceed to Tassili to determine the +statigraphic relation of Albien sandstone and carboniferous limestone. +They will, in addition, profit by any opportunities of determining the +possible change of attitude of the Axdjers towards our penetration, +etc." If the journey should indeed have to do only with such poor +things I think that I should never undertake it.</p> + +<p>So I am longing for what I dread. I shall be dejected if I do not<!-- Page 6 --> +find myself in the presence of what makes me strangely fearful.</p> + +<p>In the depths of the valley of Wadi Mia a jackal is barking. Now and +again, when a beam of moonlight breaks in a silver patch through the +hollows of the heat-swollen clouds, making him think he sees the young +sun, a turtle dove moans among the palm trees.</p> + +<p>I hear a step outside. I lean out of the window. A shade clad in +luminous black stuff glides over the hard-packed earth of the terrace +of the fortification. A light shines in the electric blackness. A man +has just lighted a cigarette. He crouches, facing southwards. He is +smoking.</p> + +<p>It is Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, our Targa guide, the man who in three days +is to lead us across the unknown plateaus of the mysterious +Imoschaoch, across the hamadas of black stones, the great dried oases, +the stretches of silver salt, the tawny hillocks, the flat gold dunes +that are crested over, when the "alizé" blows, with a shimmering haze +of pale sand.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! He is the man. There recurs to my mind Duveyrier's +tragic phrase, "At the very moment the Colonel was putting his foot in +the stirrup he was felled by a sabre blow." +<a name="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> + Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh! +There he is, peacefully smoking his cigarette, a cigarette from the +package that I gave him.... May the Lord forgive me for it.</p> + +<p>The lamp casts a yellow light on the paper. Strange fate, which, I +never knew exactly why, decided one day when I was a lad of sixteen +that I should prepare myself for Saint Cyr, and gave me there André de +Saint-Avit as classmate. I might have studied law or medicine. Then I +should be today a respectable inhabitant of a town with a church and +running water, instead of this cotton-clad phantom, brooding with an +unspeakable anxiety over this desert which is about to swallow me.</p> + +<p>A great insect has flown in through the window. It buzzes, strikes +against the rough cast, rebounds against the globe of the lamp, and +then, helpless, its wings singed by the still burning candle, drops on +the white paper.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 7 -->It is an African May bug, big, black, with spots of livid gray.</p> + +<p>I think of others, its brothers in France, the golden-brown May bugs, +which I have seen on stormy summer evenings projecting themselves like +little particles of the soil of my native countryside. It was there +that as a child I spent my vacations, and later on, my leaves. On my +last leave, through those same meadows, there wandered beside me a +slight form, wearing a thin scarf, because of the evening air, so cool +back there. But now this memory stirs me so slightly that I scarcely +raise my eyes to that dark corner of my room where the light is dimly +reflected by the glass of an indistinct portrait. I realize of how +little consequence has become what had seemed at one time capable of +filling all my life. This plaintive mystery is of no more interest to +me. If the strolling singers of Rolla came to murmur their famous +nostalgic airs under the window of this bordj I know that I should not +listen to them, and if they became insistent I should send them on +their way.</p> + +<p>What has been capable of causing this metamorphosis in me? A story, a +legend, perhaps, told, at any rate by one on whom rests the direst of +suspicions.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has finished his cigarette. I hear him returning +with slow steps to his mat, in barrack B, to the left of the guard +post.</p> + +<p>Our departure being scheduled for the tenth of November, the +manuscript attached to this letter was begun on Sunday, the first, and +finished on Thursday, the fifth of November, 1903.</p> + +<p>OLIVIER FERRIÈRES, Lt. 3rd Spahis.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 8 --> +<h2><a name="I"><!-- Chapter 1 --></a>I</h2> + +<h3>A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Sunday, the sixth of June, 1903, broke the monotony of the life that +we were leading at the Post of Hassi-Inifel by two events of unequal +importance, the arrival of a letter from Mlle. de C——, and the +latest numbers of the Official Journal of the French Republic.</p> + +<p>"I have the Lieutenant's permission?" said Sergeant Chatelain, +beginning to glance through the magazines he had just removed from +their wrappings.</p> + +<p>I acquiesced with a nod, already completely absorbed in reading Mlle. +de C——'s letter.</p> + +<p>"When this reaches you," was the gist of this charming being's letter, +"mama and I will doubtless have left Paris for the country. If, in +your distant parts, it might be a consolation to imagine me as bored +here as you possibly can be, <!-- Page 9 -->make the most of it. The Grand Prix is +over. I played the horse you pointed out to me, and naturally, I lost. +Last night we dined with the Martials de la Touche. Elias Chatrian was +there, always amazingly young. I am sending you his last book, which +has made quite a sensation. It seems that the Martials de la Touche +are depicted there without disguise. I will add to it Bourget's last, +and Loti's, and France's, and two or three of the latest music hall +hits. In the political word, they say the law about congregations will +meet with strenuous opposition. Nothing much in the theatres. I have +taken out a summer subscription for <i>l'Illustration</i>. Would you care +for it? In the country no one knows what to do. Always the same lot of +idiots ready for tennis. I shall deserve no credit for writing to you +often. Spare me your reflections concerning young Combemale. I am less +than nothing of a feminist, having too much faith in those who tell me +that I am pretty, in yourself in particular. But indeed, I grow wild +at the idea that if I permitted myself half the familiarities with one +of our lads that you have surely with your Ouled-Nails.... Enough of +that, it is too unpleasant an idea."</p> + +<p>I had reached this point in the prose of this advanced young woman +when a scandalized exclamation of the Sergeant made me look up.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant!"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"They are up to something at the Ministry. See for yourself."</p> + +<p>He handed me the Official. I read:</p> + +<p>"By a decision of the first of May, 1903, Captain de Saint-Avit +(André), unattached, is assigned to the Third Spahis, and appointed +Commandant of the Post of Hassi-Inifel."</p> + +<p>Chatelain's displeasure became fairly exuberant.</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit, Commandant of the Post. A post which has never +had a slur upon it. They must take us for a dumping ground."</p> + +<p>My surprise was as great as the Sergeant's. But just then I saw the +evil, weasel-like face of Gourrut, the convict we <!-- Page 10 -->used as clerk. He +had stopped his scrawling and was listening with a sly interest.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant, Captain de Saint-Avit is my ranking classmate," I answered +dryly.</p> + +<p>Chatelain saluted, and left the room. I followed.</p> + +<p>"There, there," I said, clapping him on the back, "no hard feelings. +Remember that in an hour we are starting for the oasis. Have the +cartridges ready. It is of the utmost importance to restock the +larder."</p> + +<p>I went back to the office and motioned Gourrut to go. Left alone, I +finished Mlle. de C——'s letter very quickly, and then reread the +decision of the Ministry giving the post a new chief.</p> + +<p>It was now five months that I had enjoyed that distinction, and on my +word, I had accepted the responsibility well enough, and been very +well pleased with the independence. I can even affirm, without taking +too much credit for myself, that under my command discipline had been +better maintained than under Captain Dieulivol, Saint-Avit's +predecessor. A brave man, this Captain Dieulivol, a non-commissioned +officer under Dodds and Duchesne, but subject to a terrible propensity +for strong liquors, and too much inclined, when he had drunk, to +confuse his dialects, and to talk to a Houassa in Sakalave. No one was +ever more sparing of the post water supply. One morning when he was +preparing his absinthe in the presence of the Sergeant, Chatelain, +noticing the Captain's glass, saw with amazement that the green liquor +was blanched by a far stronger admixture of water than usual. He +looked up, aware that something abnormal had just occurred. Rigid, the +carafe inverted in his hand, Captain Dieulivol was spilling the water +which was running over on the sugar. He was dead.</p> + +<p>For six months, since the disappearance of this sympathetic old +tippler, the Powers had not seemed to interest themselves in finding +his successor. I had even hoped at times that a decision might be +reached investing me with the rights that I was in fact exercising.... +And today this surprising appointment.</p> + +<p>Captain de Saint-Avit. He was of my class at St. Cyr. I had lost track +of him. Then my attention had been attracted to <!-- Page 11 -->him by his rapid +advancement, his decoration, the well-deserved recognition of three +particularly daring expeditions of exploration to Tebesti and the Air; +and suddenly, the mysterious drama of his fourth expedition, that +famous mission undertaken with Captain Morhange, from which only one +of the explorers came back. Everything is forgotten quickly in France. +That was at least six years ago. I had not heard Saint-Avit mentioned +since. I had even supposed that he had left the army. And now, I was +to have him as my chief.</p> + +<p>"After all, what's the difference," I mused, "he or another! At school +he was charming, and we have had only the most pleasant relationships. +Besides, I haven't enough yearly income to afford the rank of +Captain."</p> + +<p>And I left the office, whistling as I went.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We were now, Chatelain and I, our guns resting on the already cooling +earth, beside the pool that forms the center of the meager oasis, +hidden behind a kind of hedge of alfa. The setting sun was reddening +the stagnant ditches which irrigate the poor garden plots of the +sedentary blacks.</p> + +<p>Not a word during the approach. Not a word during the shoot. Chatelain +was obviously sulking.</p> + +<p>In silence we knocked down, one after the other, several of the +miserable doves which came on dragging wings, heavy with the heat of +the day, to quench their thirst at the thick green water. When a +half-dozen slaughtered little bodies were lined up at our feet I put +my hand on the Sergeant's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain!"</p> + +<p>He trembled.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, I was rude to you a little while ago. Don't be angry. It +was the bad time before the siesta. The bad time of midday."</p> + +<p>"The Lieutenant is master here," he answered in a tone that was meant +to be gruff, but which was only strained.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, don't be angry. You have something to say to me. You know +what I mean."</p> + +<p>"I don't know really. No, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, Chatelain, why not be sensible? Tell me something about +Captain de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 12 -->I know nothing." He spoke sharply.</p> + +<p>"Nothing? Then what were you saying a little while ago?"</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit is a brave man." He muttered the words with his +head still obstinately bent. "He went alone to Bilma, to the Air, +quite alone to those places where no one had ever been. He is a brave +man."</p> + +<p>"He is a brave man, undoubtedly," I answered with great restraint. +"But he murdered his companion, Captain Morhange, did he not?"</p> + +<p>The old Sergeant trembled.</p> + +<p>"He is a brave man," he persisted.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain, you are a child. Are you afraid that I am going to repeat +what you say to your new Captain?"</p> + +<p>I had touched him to the quick. He drew himself up.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant Chatelain is afraid of no one, Lieutenant. He has been at +Abomey, against the Amazons, in a country where a black arm started +out from every bush to seize your leg, while another cut it off for +you with one blow of a cutlass."</p> + +<p>"Then what they say, what you yourself—"</p> + +<p>"That is talk."</p> + +<p>"Talk which is repeated in France, Chatelain, everywhere."</p> + +<p>He bent his head still lower without replying.</p> + +<p>"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?"</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know, +or nothing—"</p> + +<p>"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I +give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you +except on official business."</p> + +<p>Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans—myself, the +Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its +effect.</p> + +<p>"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But +afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a +superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I +overheard at mess."</p> + +<p>"Tell away."</p> + +<p>"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th +Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the +Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth. +The marketing, the accounts, recording <!-- Page 13 -->the library books which were +borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,—for +with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined +at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon +as he was seated, called for silence:</p> + +<p>"'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I +shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the +<i>City of Naples</i> lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit, +recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.'</p> + +<p>"The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to +be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed +ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an +officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and +invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He +pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of +the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit +meant—one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs.</p> + +<p>"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that +perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard.</p> + +<p>"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen, +and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and +the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to +hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an +officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a +comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is +the matter on which I ask your advice.'</p> + +<p>"There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them +suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants. +In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried +not to make the least sound that might recall my presence.</p> + +<p>"'We thank you, Colonel,' one of the majors finally replied, 'for your +courtesy in consulting us. All my comrades, I imagine, know to what +terrible rumors you refer. If I may venture to say so, in Paris at the +Army Geographical Service, where I was before coming here, most of the +officers of the <!-- Page 14 -->highest standing had an opinion on this unfortunate +matter which they avoided stating, but which cast no glory upon +Captain de Saint-Avit.'</p> + +<p>"'I was at Bammako, at the time of the Morhange-Saint-Avit mission,' +said a Captain. 'The opinion of the officers there, I am sorry to say, +differed very little from what the Major describes. But I must add +that they all admitted that they had nothing but suspicions to go on. +And suspicions are certainly not enough considering the atrocity of +the affair.'</p> + +<p>"'They are quite enough, gentlemen,' replied the Colonel, 'to account +for our hesitation. It is not a question of passing judgment; but no +man can sit at our table as a matter of right. It is a privilege based +on fraternal esteem. The only question is whether it is your decision +to accord it to Saint-Avit.'</p> + +<p>"So saying, he looked at the officers, as if he were taking a roll +call. One after another they shook their heads.</p> + +<p>"'I see that we agree,' he said. 'But our task is unfortunately not +yet over. The <i>City of Naples</i> will be in port tomorrow morning. The +launch which meets the passengers leaves at eight o'clock. It will be +necessary, gentlemen, for one of you to go aboard. Captain de +Saint-Avit might be expecting to come to us. We certainly have no +intention of inflicting upon him the humiliation of refusing him, if +he presented himself in expectation of the customary reception. He +must be prevented from coming. It will be wisest to make him +understand that it is best for him to stay aboard.'</p> + +<p>"The Colonel looked at the officers again. They could not but agree. +But how uncomfortable each one looked!</p> + +<p>"'I cannot hope to find a volunteer among you for this kind of +mission, so I am compelled to appoint some one. Captain Grandjean, +Captain de Saint-Avit is also a Captain. It is fitting that it be an +officer of his own rank who carries him our message. Besides, you are +the latest comer here. Therefore it is to you that I entrust this +painful interview. I do not need to suggest that you conduct it as +diplomatically as possible.'</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean bowed, while a sigh of relief escaped from all the +others. As long as the Colonel stayed in the room Grandjean remained +apart, without speaking. It was only after the chief had departed that +he let fall the words: "<!-- Page 15 -->'There are some things that ought to count a +good deal for promotion.'</p> + +<p>"The next day at luncheon everyone was impatient for his return.</p> + +<p>"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table +where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious +for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to +melt, a full glass of absinthe.</p> + +<p>"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on +shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!'</p> + +<p>"The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their +anxious curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water.</p> + +<p>"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I +went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in +the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I +could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to +go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench +and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented +myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed +somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed +something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near +the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say? +How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows +on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then, +of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at +me coolly and said:</p> + +<p>"'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much +trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no +intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having +made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you +must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by +the vessel.'</p> + +<p>"Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the +cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that <!-- Page 16 -->we had mutual +acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant +look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't +know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of +the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion. +Such a man, capable of such a crime,—believe me, it is not possible.</p> + +<p>"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I +have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried +through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of +depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this +complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the +<i>City of Naples</i>, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a +league from shore.</p> + +<p>"She was still there in the evening when they assembled for dinner, +and it was not until a blast of the whistle, followed by curls of +smoke escaping from the red and black smokestack had announced the +departure of the vessel for Gabes, that conversation was resumed; and +even then, less gaily than usual.</p> + +<p>"After that, Lieutenant, at the Officers' Club at Sfax, they avoided +like the plague any subject which risked leading the conversation back +to Captain de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the +desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we +had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once +more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds +were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked +the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so +that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze.</p> + +<p>"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj."</p> + +<p>Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me +reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the +time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to +break our desolate silence with a single word.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 17 -->The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which +surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but +already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had +disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the +sky.</p> + +<p>When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the stables," he said.</p> + +<p>I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the +Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible +sadness weighed upon me.</p> + +<p>I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must +be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed, +their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station."</p> + +<p>The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams +of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered.</p> + +<p>A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His +back was toward me. He did not hear me enter.</p> + +<p>"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make +yourself completely at home."</p> + +<p>The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very +pale.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Ferrières, is it not?"</p> + +<p>He advanced, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow."</p> + +<p>At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the +little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want +of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at +Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were +you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I +found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie. +We will change all that, I hope. At ease."</p> + +<p>"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while <!-- Page 18 -->Chatelain +remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was +with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the +post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every +point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival—"</p> + +<p>"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant, +I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences +which attach to your office. He is not obliged to know that the +officer who abandons a post like Hassi-Inifel, if it is only for two +hours, risks not finding much left on his return. The Chaamba +brigands, my dear sir, love firearms, and for the sake of the sixty +muskets in your racks, I am sure they would not scruple to make an +officer, whose otherwise excellent record is well known to me, account +for his absence to a court-martial. Come with me, if you please. We +will finish the little inspection I began too rapidly a little while +ago."</p> + +<p>He was already on the stairs. I followed in his footsteps. Chatelain +closed the order of march. I heard him murmuring, in a tone which you +can imagine:</p> + +<p>"Well, we are in for it now!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="II"><!-- Chapter 2 --></a>II</h2> + +<h3>CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>A few days sufficed to convince us that Chatelain's fears as to our +official relations with the new chief were vain. Often I have thought +that by the severity he showed at our first encounter Saint-Avit +wished to create a formal barrier, to show us that he knew how to keep +his head high in spite of the weight of his heavy past. Certain it is +that the day after his arrival, he showed himself in a very different +light, even complimenting the Sergeant on the upkeep of the post and +the instruction of the men. To me he was charming.</p> + +<p>"We are of the same class, aren't we?" he said to me. "I <!-- Page 19 -->don't have +to ask you to dispense with formalities, it is your right."</p> + +<p>Vain marks of confidence, alas! False witnesses to a freedom of +spirit, one in face of the other. What more accessible in appearance +than the immense Sahara, open to all those who are willing to be +engulfed by it? Yet what is more secret? After six months of +companionship, of communion of life such as only a Post in the South +offers, I ask myself if the most extraordinary of my adventures is not +to be leaving to-morrow, toward unsounded solitudes, with a man whose +real thoughts are as unknown to me as these same solitudes, for which +he has succeeded in making me long.</p> + +<p>The first surprise which was given me by this singular companion was +occasioned by the baggage that followed him.</p> + +<p>On his inopportune arrival, alone, from Wargla, he had trusted to the +Mehari he rode only what can be carried without harm by such a +delicate beast,—his arms, sabre and revolver, a heavy carbine, and a +very reduced pack. The rest did not arrive till fifteen days later, +with the convoy which supplied the post.</p> + +<p>Three cases of respectable dimensions were carried one after another +to the Captain's room, and the grimaces of the porters said enough as +to their weight.</p> + +<p>I discreetly left Saint-Avit to his unpacking and began opening the +mail which the convoy had sent me.</p> + +<p>He returned to the office a little later and glanced at the several +reviews which I had just recieved.</p> + +<p>"So," he said. "You take these."</p> + +<p>He skimmed through, as he spoke, the last number of the <i>Zeitschrift +der Gesellschaft fur Erdkunde in Berlin</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "These gentlemen are kind enough to interest +themselves in my works on the geology of the Wadi Mia and the high +Igharghar."</p> + +<p>"That may be useful to me," he murmured, continuing to turn over the +leaves.</p> + +<p>"It's at your service."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you in ex<!-- Page 20 -->change, except +Pliny, perhaps. And still—you know what he said of Igharghar, +according to King Juba. However, come help me put my traps in place +and you will see if anything appeals to you."</p> + +<p>I accepted without further urging.</p> + +<p>We commenced by unearthing various meteorological and astronomical +instruments—the thermometers of Baudin, Salleron, Fastre, an aneroid, +a Fortin barometer, chronometers, a sextant, an astronomical spyglass, +a compass glass.... In short, what Duveyrier calls the material that +is simplest and easiest to transport on a camel.</p> + +<p>As Saint-Avit handed them to me I arranged them on the only table in +the room.</p> + +<p>"Now," he announced to me, "there is nothing more but books. I will +pass them to you. Pile them up in a corner until I can have a +book-shelf made."</p> + +<p>For two hours altogether I helped him to heap up a real library. And +what a library! Such as never before a post in the South had seen. All +the texts consecrated, under whatever titles, by antiquity to the +regions of the Sahara were reunited between the four rough-cast walls +of that little room of the bordj. Herodotus and Pliny, naturally, and +likewise Strabo and Ptolemy, Pomponius Mela, and Ammien Marcellin. But +besides these names which reassured my ignorance a little, I perceived +those of Corippus, of Paul Orose, of Eratosthenes, of Photius, of +Diodorus of Sicily, of Solon, of Dion Cassius, of Isidor of Seville, +of Martin de Tyre, of Ethicus, of Athenée, the <i>Scriptores Historiae +Augustae</i>, the <i>Itinerarium Antonini Augusti</i>, the <i>Geographi Latini +Minores</i> of Riese, the <i>Geographi Graeci Minores</i> of Karl Muller.... +Since I have had the occasion to familiarize myself with Agatarchides +of Cos and Artemidorus of Ephesus, but I admit that in this instance +the presence of their dissertations in the saddle bags of a captain of +cavalry caused me some amazement.</p> + +<p>I mention further the <i>Descrittione dell' Africa</i> by Leon l'African, +the <i>Arabian Histories</i> of Ibn-Khaldoun, of Al-Iaquob, of El-Bekri, of +Ibn-Batoutah, of Mahommed El-Tounsi.... In the midst of this Babel, I +remember the names <!-- Page 21 -->of only two volumes of contemporary French +scholars. There were also the laborious theses of +Berlioux<a name="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> and of +Schirmer.<a name="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4"><sup>[4]</sup></a></p> + +<p>While I proceeded to make piles of as similar dimensions as possible I +kept saying to myself:</p> + +<p>"To think that I have been believing all this time that in his mission +with Morhange, Saint-Avit was particularly concerned in scientific +observations. Either my memory deceives me strangely or he is riding a +horse of another color. What is sure is that there is nothing for me +in the midst of all this chaos."</p> + +<p>He must have read on my face the signs of too apparently expressed +surprise, for he said in a tone in which I divined a tinge of +defiance:</p> + +<p>"The choice of these books surprises you a bit?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say it surprises me," I replied, "since I don't know the +nature of the work for which you have collected them. In any case I +dare say, without fear of being contradicted, that never before has +officer of the Arabian Office possessed a library in which the +humanities were so, well represented."</p> + +<p>He smiled evasively, and that day we pursued the subject no further.</p> + +<p>Among Saint-Avit's books I had noticed a voluminous notebook secured +by a strong lock. Several times I surprised him in the act of making +notations in it. When for any reason he was called out of the room he +placed his album carefully in a small cabinet of white wood, provided +by the munificence of the Administration. When he was not writing and +the office did not require his presence, he had the mehari which he +had brought with him saddled, and a few minutes later, from the +terrace of the fortifications, I could see the double silhouette +disappearing with great strides behind a hummock of red earth on the +horizon.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 22 -->Each time these trips lasted longer. From each he returned in a kind +of exaltation which made me watch him with daily increasing +disquietude during meal hours, the only time we passed quite alone +together.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said to myself one day when his remarks had been more +lacking in sequence than usual, "it's no fun being aboard a submarine +when the captain takes opium. What drug can this fellow be taking, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>Next day I looked hurriedly through my comrade's drawers. This +inspection, which I believed to be my duty, reassured me momentarily. +"All very good," I thought, "provided he does not carry with him his +capsules and his Pravaz syringe."</p> + +<p>I was still in that stage where I could suppose that André's +imagination needed artificial stimulants.</p> + +<p>Meticulous observation undeceived me. There was nothing suspicious in +this respect. Moreover, he rarely drank and almost never smoked.</p> + +<p>And nevertheless, there was no means of denying the increase of his +disquieting feverishness. He returned from his expeditions each time +with his eyes more brilliant. He was paler, more animated, more +irritable.</p> + +<p>One evening he left the post about six o'clock, at the end of the +greatest heat of the day. We waited for him all night. My anxiety was +all the stronger because quite recently caravans had brought tidings +of bands of robbers in the neighborhood of the post.</p> + +<p>At dawn he had not returned. He did not come before midday. His camel +collapsed under him, rather than knelt.</p> + +<p>He realized that he must excuse himself, but he waited till we were +alone at lunch.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry to have caused you any anxiety. But the dunes were so +beautiful under the moon! I let myself be carried farther and +farther...."</p> + +<p>"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the +chief here. Only allow me to recall to you certain warnings concerning +the Chaamba brigands, and the misfortunes that might arise from a +Commandant of a post absenting himself too long."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 23 -->He smiled.</p> + +<p>"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply.</p> + +<p>He was in excellent, too excellent spirits.</p> + +<p>"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon +rose. And then, I recognized the country. It is just where, twenty +years ago next November, Flatters followed the way to his destiny in +an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made keener and +more intense."</p> + +<p>"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he +did ... even to dying of it."</p> + +<p>"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I +answered. "But they were alone when they exposed themselves to it. +Responsible only for their own lives, they were free. Flatters, on the +other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you cannot deny that +he allowed his whole party to be massacred."</p> + +<p>The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I +thought of Chatelain's story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where +they avoided like the plague any kind of conversation which might lead +their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit mission.</p> + +<p>Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant +eyes were far away.</p> + +<p>"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Auxonne."</p> + +<p>He gave an unnatural laugh.</p> + +<p>"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand +inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's +wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every +Sunday,—the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon. +That explains your Judgment of Flatters.</p> + +<p>"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I +arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged +twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black +sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the <!-- Page 24 --><i>bagnards</i> say in speaking of their +grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had +begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see +those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at +their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands +and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had +plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three +or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that +same evening for Berroughia.</p> + +<p>"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway +stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get +to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat. +When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage, +straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of +the outlying desert.</p> + +<p>"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road +embankment, overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume +of oleander, we changed horses. They had there a troop of convicts and +impressed laborers, under escort of riflemen and convoys to the +quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the jails of +Algiers and Douara,—without arms, of course; the others +civilians—such civilians! this year's recruits, the young bullies of +the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or.</p> + +<p>"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From +a distance I saw in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black +irregular mass of the convoy. Then I heard a weary dirge; the wretches +were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the couplet, +which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'<i>Maintenant qu'elle est grande</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elle fait le trottoir</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Avec ceux de la bande</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>A Richard-Lenoir</i>.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain:</p> +<!-- Page 25 --> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'<i>A la Bastille, a la Bastille</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>On aime bien, on aime bien</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>Nini Peau d'Chien</i>;<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elle est si belle et si gentille</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;"><i>A la Bastille</i>'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. +They were terrible. Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone +with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven faces. The burning dust +strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness +took possession of me.</p> + +<p>"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained +my self-control.</p> + +<p>"'Further, much further South,' I exclaimed to myself, 'to the places +untouched by this miserable bilgewater of civilization.'</p> + +<p>"When I am weary, when I have a moment of anguish and longing to turn +back on the road that I have chosen, I think of the prisoners of +Berroughia, and then I am glad to continue on my way.</p> + +<p>"But what a reward, when I am in one of those places where the poor +animals never think of fleeing because they have never seen man, where +the desert stretches out around me so widely that the old world could +crumble, and never a single ripple on the dune, a single cloud in the +white sky come to warn me.</p> + +<p>"'It is true,' I murmured. 'I, too, once, in the middle of the desert, +at Tidi-Kelt, I felt that way.'"</p> + +<p>Up to that time I had let him enjoy his exaltations without +interruption. I understood too late the error that I had made in +pronouncing that unfortunate sentence.</p> + +<p>His mocking nervous laughter began anew.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Indeed, at Tidi-Kelt? I beg you, old man, in your own interest, +if you don't want to make an ass of yourself, avoid that species of +reminiscence. Honestly, you make me think of Fromentin, or that poor +Maupassant, who talked of the desert because he had been to Djelfa, +two days' journey from the street of Bab-Azound and the Government +buildings, four days from the Avenue de l'Opera;—and who, because he +saw a poor devil of a camel dying near Bou-Saada, be<!-- Page 26 -->lieved himself in +the heart of the desert, on the old route of the caravans.... +Tidi-Kelt, the desert!"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, however, that In-Salah—" I said, a little vexed.</p> + +<p>"In-Salah? Tidi-Kelt! But, my poor friend, the last time that I passed +that way there were as many old newspapers and empty sardine boxes as +if it had been Sunday in the Wood of Vincennes."</p> + +<p>Such a determined, such an evident desire to annoy me made me forget +my reserve.</p> + +<p>"Evidently," I replied resentfully, "I have never been to—"</p> + +<p>I stopped myself, but it was already too late.</p> + +<p>He looked at me, squarely in the face.</p> + +<p>"To where?" he said with good humor.</p> + +<p>I did not answer.</p> + +<p>"To where?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>And, as I remained strangled in my muteness:</p> + +<p>"To Wadi Tarhit, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>It was on the east bank of Wadi Tarhit, a hundred and twenty +kilometers from Timissao, at 25.5 degrees north latitude, according to +the official report, that Captain Morhange was buried.</p> + +<p>"André," I cried stupidly, "I swear to you—"</p> + +<p>"What do you swear to me?"</p> + +<p>"That I never meant—"</p> + +<p>"To speak of Wadi Tarhit? Why? Why should you not speak to me of Wadi +Tarhit?"</p> + +<p>In answer to my supplicating silence, he merely shrugged his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," was all he said.</p> + +<p>And he left me before I could think of even one word to say.</p> + +<p>So much humility on my part had, however, not disarmed him. I had the +proof of it the next day, and the way he showed his humor was even +marked by an exhibition of wretchedly poor taste.</p> + +<p>I was just out of bed when he came into my room.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>He had in his hand one of the official registers. In his <!-- Page 27 -->nervous +crises he always began sorting them over, in the hope of finding some +pretext for making himself militarily insupportable.</p> + +<p>This time chance had favored him.</p> + +<p>He opened the register. I blushed violently at seeing the poor proof +of a photograph that I knew well.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" he repeated disdainfully.</p> + +<p>Too often I had surprised him in the act of regarding, none too +kindly, the portrait of Mlle. de C. which hung in my room not to be +convinced at that moment that he was trying to pick a quarrel with me.</p> + +<p>I controlled myself, however, and placed the poor little print in the +drawer.</p> + +<p>But my calmness did not pacify him.</p> + +<p>"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of +your gallantry with the official papers."</p> + +<p>He added, with a smile that spoke insult:</p> + +<p>"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut."</p> + +<p>"André," I said, and I was white, "I demand—"</p> + +<p>He stood up to the full height of his stature.</p> + +<p>"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to +speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should +think—"</p> + +<p>"André!"</p> + +<p>Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the +replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene.</p> + +<p>"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves +you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?"</p> + +<p>And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, +humming the shameful refrain of the previous night:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"<i>A la Bastille, a la Bastille</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>On aime bien, on aime bien</i>,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Nini, Peau de Chien</i>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>For three days neither of us spoke to the other. My ex<!-- Page 28 -->asperation was +too deep for words. Was I, then, to be held responsible for his +avatars! Was it my fault if, between two phrases, one seemed always +some allusion—</p> + +<p>"The situation is intolerable," I said to myself. "It cannot last +longer."</p> + +<p>It was to cease very soon.</p> + +<p>One week after the scene of the photograph the courier arrived. I had +scarcely glanced at the index of the <i>Zeitschrift</i>, the German review +of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable +amazement. I had just read: <i>"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei +fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de +Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."</i></p> + +<p>At the same time I heard my comrade's voice.</p> + +<p>"Anything interesting in this number?"</p> + +<p>"No," I answered carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Let's see."</p> + +<p>I obeyed; what else was there to do?</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However, +his tone was altogether natural when he said:</p> + +<p>"You will let me borrow it, of course?"</p> + +<p>And he went out, casting me one defiant glance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was +gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me.</p> + +<p>When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade +of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness +was already encroaching upon from the east.</p> + +<p>André broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is +not interesting."</p> + +<p>His expression was one of supreme amusement.</p> + +<p>"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching.</p> + +<p>"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>I looked at him with an expression of supplication.</p> + +<p>"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more.</p> + +<p>Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia <!-- Page 29 -->was still +yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping +sharply.</p> + +<p>"The <i>dib</i> is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said +Saint-Avit.</p> + +<p>He continued pitilessly:</p> + +<p>"Then you aren't willing to say anything?"</p> + +<p>I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase:</p> + +<p>"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy—You don't feel +like yourself, you don't know any more—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy, +heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain +Morhange."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="III"><!-- Chapter 3 --></a>III</h2> + +<h3>THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"So I killed Captain Morhange," André de Saint-Avit said to me the +next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took +no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through. +"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the +desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that +confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it +may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the +present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again, +that I killed Captain Morhange.</p> + +<p>"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you +understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a +romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner +of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics +would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much +I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will +find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my <!-- Page 30 -->peace of +mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word, +apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black +ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge +of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my +life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my +companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"This being understood, here are the facts:</p> + +<p>It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that +I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me +the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult +times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat, +where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been +concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies. +Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and +at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The +Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its +occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was +Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of +Germany, and above all because of a certain <i>Declaration of the Rights +of Man and of the Citizen</i>, which prescribed that insurrection is the +most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut +your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own +discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts; +this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort +Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with +bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat. +Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the +necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way +would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that +were being woven there against us.</p> + +<p>The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able +chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his +confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in +the Tibesti. They had, I say <i>they</i> through modesty, the idea of +ascertaining the traces left <!-- Page 31 -->by these agitators on their favorite +places of concourse; Rhât, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and +In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin, +practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General +Rohlfs.</p> + +<p>I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to +Agadès, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff +officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I +was therefore selected to assume this new task.</p> + +<p>I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with +one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so +as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have +as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they +combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded +the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After +reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin, +instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhât, I would, +penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off +to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again +northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agadès. In +all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven +hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an +examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis +of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at +Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at +all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the +geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier +and the others are so disappointingly indefinite.</p> + +<p>Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which +is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's +(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through +the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a +machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry +provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken +pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells.</p> + +<p>Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with <!-- Page 32 -->a hundred +regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and René +Callie, I go alone.</p> + +<p>I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me +to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure +until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his +expedition of exploration."</p> + +<p>I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this +expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make +the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea +of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the +desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a +superior.</p> + +<p>The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor.</p> + +<p>The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following +information:</p> + +<p>"Morhange (Jean-Marie-François), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain, +unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)"</p> + +<p>"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of +their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have +had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The +theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here."</p> + +<p>"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in +Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of +Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat. +And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army +Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament, +governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an +amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial +Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in +office, when it is not actually in spite of them."</p> + +<p>"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly; +"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along +the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much +time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 33 -->Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from +Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The +indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone."</p> + +<p>Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the +convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked.</p> + +<p>When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as +the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I +would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him.</p> + +<p>He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small +black moustache, and hair that was already white.</p> + +<p>"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said +immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man. +"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and +delaying your departure."</p> + +<p>"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly.</p> + +<p>"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your +knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I +wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction +and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me +with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable +institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to +re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth +century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla, +Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of +restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the +Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking. +From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I +must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have +ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on +Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental +Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to +ask for directions whether to <!-- Page 34 -->turn right or left. This is the only +chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time +put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a +companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my +influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when +I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have +said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered +essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to +the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each +other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations, +all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a +friend as well."</p> + +<p>All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst +recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean +desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of +my company at a distance, without consulting me.</p> + +<p>"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering +words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?"</p> + +<p>He made a gesture of complete detachment.</p> + +<p>"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed +you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time."</p> + +<p>My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting +on leaving before the next week.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?"</p> + +<p>He smiled delightfully.</p> + +<p>"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some +papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the +rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla."</p> + +<p>I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such +freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me.</p> + +<p>"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought +us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably +charming fellow."</p> + +<p>"Remarkably."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 35 -->You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to +see that later on he doesn't get all the glory."</p> + +<p>"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively.</p> + +<p>I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment +I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence +persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, +everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife:</p> + +<p>"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it."</p> + +<p>I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening....</p> + +<p>After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the +places where there are no more men who think and reason.</p> + +<p>Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming +over this new acquaintanceship.</p> + +<p>He presented him enthusiastically:</p> + +<p>"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man +after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, +but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea +before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to +give us."</p> + +<p>"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied +Morhange, with a quiet smile.</p> + +<p>The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter +rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the +newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have +I felt so sad.</p> + +<p>The time came to pass into the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"At my right, Captain," cried the Major, more and more beaming. "And I +hope you will keep on giving us these new lines on Paris. We are not +up with the times here, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yours to command, Major," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>The officers obeyed, with a joyous clatter of moving chairs. I had not +taken my eyes off Morhange, who was still standing.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 36 -->Major, gentlemen, you will allow me," he said.</p> + +<p>And before sitting down at that table, where every moment he was the +life of the party, in a low voice, with his eyes closed, Captain +Morhange recited the Benedicite.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="IV"><!-- Chapter 4 --></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>TOWARDS LATITUDE 25</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"You see," said Captain Morhange to me fifteen days later, "you are +much better informed about the ancient routes through the Sahara than +you have been willing to let me suppose, since you know of the +existence of the two Tadekkas. But the one of which you have just +spoken is the Tadekka of Ibn-Batoutah, located by this historian +seventy days from Touat, and placed by Schirmer, very plausibly, in +the unexplored territory of the Aouelimmiden. This is the Tadekka by +which the Sonrhaï caravans passed every year, travelling by Egypt.</p> + +<p>"My Tadekka is different, the capital of the veiled people, placed by +Ibn-Khaldoun twenty days south of Wargla, which he calls Tadmekka. It +is towards this Tadmekka that I am headed. I must establish Tadmekka +in the ruins of Es-Souk. The commercial trade route, which in the +ninth century bound the Tunisian Djerid to the bend the Niger makes at +Bourroum, passed by Es-Souk. It is to study the possibility of +reestablishing this ancient thoroughfare that the Ministries gave me +this mission, which has given me the pleasure of your companionship."</p> + +<p>"You are probably in for a disappointment," I said. "Everything +indicates that the commerce there is very slight."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall see," he answered composedly.</p> + +<p>This was while we were following the unicolored banks of a salt lake. +The great saline stretch shone pale-blue, under the rising sun. The +legs of our five mehara cast on it their moving shadows of a darker +blue. For a moment the only inhabitant of these solitudes, a bird, a +kind of indeterminate <!-- Page 37 -->heron, rose and hung in the air, as if +suspended from a thread, only to sink back to rest as soon as we had +passed.</p> + +<p>I led the way, selecting the route, Morhange followed. Enveloped in a +bernous, his head covered with the straight <i>chechia</i> of the Spahis, a +great chaplet of alternate red and white beads, ending in a cross, +around his neck, he realized perfectly the ideal of Father Lavigerie's +White Fathers.</p> + +<p>After a two-days' halt at Temassinin we had just left the road +followed by Flatters, and taken an oblique course to the south. I have +the honor of having antedated Fourcau in demonstrating the importance +of Temassinin as a geometrical point for the passage of caravans, and +of selecting the place where Captain Pein has just now constructed a +fort. The junction for the roads that lead to Touat from Fezzan and +Tibesti, Temassinin is the future seat of a marvellous Intelligence +Department. What I had collected there in two days about the +disposition of our Senoussis enemies was of importance. I noticed that +Morhange let me proceed with my inquiries with complete indifference.</p> + +<p>These two days he had passed in conversation with the old Negro +guardian of the turbet, which preserves, under its plaster dome, the +remains of the venerated Sidi-Moussa. The confidences they exchanged, +I am sorry to say that I have forgotten. But from the Negro's amazed +admiration, I realized the ignorance in which I stood to the mysteries +of the desert, and how familiar they were to my companion.</p> + +<p>And if you want to get any idea of the extraordinary originality which +Morhange introduced into such surroundings, you who, after all, have a +certain familiarity with the tropics, listen to this. It was exactly +two hundred kilometers from here, in the vicinity of the Great Dune, +in that horrible stretch of six days without water. We had just enough +for two days before reaching the next well, and you know these wells; +as Flatters wrote to his wife, "you have to work for hours before you +can clean them out and succeed in watering beasts and men." By chance +we met a caravan there, which was going east towards Rhadamès, and had +come too far north. The camels' humps, shrunken and shaking, bespoke +the sufferings of the troop. Behind came a little gray ass, a pitiful +burrow, interfering at every step, and lightened <!-- Page 38 -->of its pack because +the merchants knew that it was going to die. Instinctively, with its +last strength, it followed, knowing that when it could stagger no +longer, the end would come and the flutter of the bald vultures' +wings. I love animals, which I have solid reasons for preferring to +men. But never should I have thought of doing what Morhange did then. +I tell you that our water skins were almost dry, and that our own +camels, without which one is lost in the empty desert, had not been +watered for many hours. Morhange made his kneel, uncocked a skin, and +made the little ass drink. I certainly felt gratification at seeing +the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But +the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast +expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. +I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied +Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about +six o'clock. Between here and there I know that I shall not be +thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed +the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, +ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and +Bou-Djema's, are at his service." But I did not yet know Morhange very +well, and it is true that until the evening of the next day when we +reached El-Biodh, refusing our offers with smiling determination, he +drank nothing.</p> + +<p>Shades of St. Francis of Assisi! Umbrian hills, so pure under the +rising sun! It was in the light of a like sunrise, by the border of a +pale stream leaping in full cascades from a crescent-shaped niche of +the gray rocks of Egere, that Morhange stopped. The unlooked for +waters rolled upon the sand, and we saw, in the light which mirrored +them, little black fish. Fish in the middle of the Sahara! All three +of us were mute before this paradox of Nature. One of them had strayed +into a little channel of sand. He had to stay there, struggling in +vain, his little white belly exposed to the air.... Morhange picked +him up, looked at him for a moment, and put him back into the little +stream. Shades of St. Francis. Umbrian hills.... But I have sworn not +<!-- Page 39 -->to break the thread of the story by these untimely digressions.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"You see," Captain Morhange said to me a week later, "that I was right +in advising you to go farther south before making for Shikh-Salah. +Something told me that this highland of Egere was not interesting from +your point of view. While here you have only to stoop to pick up +pebbles which will allow you to establish the volcanic origin of this +region much more certainly than Bou-Derba, des Cloizeaux, and Doctor +Marrés have done."</p> + +<p>This was while we were following the western pass of the Tidifest +Mountains, about the 25th degree of northern latitude.</p> + +<p>"I should indeed be ungrateful not to thank you," I said.</p> + +<p>I shall always remember that instant. We had left our camels and were +collecting fragments of the most characteristic rocks. Morhange +employed himself with a discernment which spoke worlds for his +knowledge of geology, a science he had often professed complete +ignorance of.</p> + +<p>Then I asked him the following question:</p> + +<p>"May I prove my gratitude by making you a confession?"</p> + +<p>He raised his head and looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Well then, I don't see the practical value of this trip you have +undertaken."</p> + +<p>He smiled.</p> + +<p>"Why not? To explore the old caravan route, to demonstrate that a +connection has existed from the most ancient times between the +Mediterranean world, and the country of the Blacks, that seems nothing +in your eyes? The hope of settling once for all the secular disputes +which have divided so many keen minds; d'Anville, Heeren, Berlioux, +Quatremere on the one hand,—on the other Gosselin, Walckenaer, +Tissit, Vivien, de saint-Martin; you think that that is devoid of +interest? A plague upon you for being hard to please."</p> + +<p>"I spoke of practical value," I said. "You won't deny that this +controversy is only the affair of cabinet geographers and office +explorers."</p> + +<p>Morhange kept on smiling.</p> + +<p>"Dear friend, don't wither me. Deign to recall that your <!-- Page 40 -->mission was +confided to you by the Ministry of War, while I hold mine on behalf of +the Ministry of Public Instruction. A different origin justifies our +different aims. It certainly explains, I readily concede that to you, +why what I am in search of has no practical value."</p> + +<p>"You are also authorized by the Ministry of Commerce," I replied, +playing my next card. "By this chief you are instructed to study the +possibility of restoring the old trade route of the ninth century. But +on this point don't attempt to mislead me; with your knowledge of the +history and geography of the Sahara, your mind must have been made up +before you left Paris. The road from Djerid to the Niger is dead, +stone dead. You knew that no important traffic would pass by this +route before you undertook to study the possibility of restoring it."</p> + +<p>Morhange looked me full in the face.</p> + +<p>"And if that should be so," he said with the most charming attitude, +"if I had before leaving the conviction you say, what do you conclude +from that?"</p> + +<p>"I should prefer to have you tell me."</p> + +<p>"Simply, my dear boy, that I had less skill than you in finding the +pretext for my voyage, that I furnished less good reasons for the true +motives that brought me here."</p> + +<p>"A pretext? I don't see...."</p> + +<p>"Be sincere in your turn, if you please. I am sure that you have the +greatest desire to inform the Arabian Office about the practices of +the Senoussis. But admit that the information that you will obtain is +not the sole and innermost aim of your excursion. You are a geologist, +my friend. You have found a chance to gratify your taste in this trip. +No one would think of blaming you because you have known how to +reconcile what is useful to your country and agreeable to yourself. +But, for the love of God, don't deny it; I need no other proof than +your presence here on this side of the Tidifest, a very curious place +from a mineralogical point of view, but some hundred and fifty +kilometers south of your official route."</p> + +<p>It was not possible to have countered me with a better grace. I +parried by attacking.</p> + +<p>"Am I to conclude from all this that I do not know the <!-- Page 41 -->real aims of +your trip, and that they have nothing to do with the official +motives?"</p> + +<p>I had gone a bit too far. I felt it from the seriousness with which +Morhange's reply was delivered.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear friend, you must not conclude just that. I should have no +taste for a lie which was based on fraud towards the estimable +constitutional bodies which have judged me worthy of their confidence +and their support. The ends that they have assigned to me I shall do +my best to attain. But I have no reason for hiding from you that there +is another, quite personal, which is far nearer to my heart. Let us +say, if you will, to use a terminology that is otherwise deplorable, +that this is the end while the others are the means."</p> + +<p>"Would there be any indiscretion?...."</p> + +<p>"None," replied my companion. "Shikh-Salah is only a few days distant. +He whose first steps you have guided with such solicitude in the +desert should have nothing hidden from you."</p> + +<p>We had halted in the valley of a little dry well where a few sickly +plants were growing. A spring near by was circled by a crown of gray +verdure. The camels had been unsaddled for the night, and were seeking +vainly, at every stride, to nibble the spiny tufts of <i>had</i>. The black +and polished sides of the Tidifest Mountains rose, almost vertically, +above our heads. Already the blue smoke of the fire on which Bou-Djema +was cooking dinner rose through the motionless air.</p> + +<p>Not a sound, not a breath. The smoke mounted straight, straight and +slowly up the pale steps of the firmament.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the <i>Atlas of Christianity</i>?" asked Morhange.</p> + +<p>"I think so. Isn't it a geographical work published by the +Benedictines under the direction of a certain Dom Granger?"</p> + +<p>"Your memory is correct," said Morhange. "Even so let me explain a +little more fully some of the things you have not had as much reason +as I to interest yourself in. The <i>Atlas of Christianity</i> proposes to +establish the boundaries of that great tide of Christianity through +all the ages, and for all parts of the globe. An undertaking worthy of +the Benedictine <!-- Page 42 -->learning, worthy of such a prodigy of erudition as +Dom Granger himself."</p> + +<p>"And it is these boundaries that you have come to determine here, no +doubt," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"Just so," replied my companion.</p> + +<p>He was silent, and I respected his silence, prepared by now to be +astonished at nothing.</p> + +<p>"It is not possible to give confidences by halves, without being +ridiculous," he continued after several minutes of meditation, +speaking gravely, in a voice which held no suggestion of that flashing +humor which had a month before enchanted the young officers at Wargla. +"I have begun on mine. I will tell you everything. Trust my +discretion, however, and do not insist upon certain events of my +private life. If, four years ago, at the close of these events, I +resolve to enter a monastery, it does not concern you to know my +reasons. I can marvel at it myself, that the passage in my life of a +being absolutely devoid of interest should have sufficed to change the +current of that life. I can marvel that a creature whose sole merit +was her beauty should have been permitted by the Creator to swing my +destiny to such an unforeseen direction. The monastery at whose doors +I knocked had the most valid reasons for doubting the stability of my +vocation. What the world loses in such fashion it often calls back as +readily. In short, I cannot blame the Father Abbot for having +forbidden me to apply for my army discharge. By his instructions, I +asked for, and obtained, permission to be placed on the inactive list +for three years. At the end of those three years of consecration it +would be seen whether the world was definitely dead to your servant.</p> + +<p>"The first day of my arrival at the cloister I was assigned to Dom +Granger, and placed by him at work on the <i>Atlas of Christianity</i>. A +brief examination decided him as to what kind of service I was best +fitted to render. This is how I came to enter the studio devoted to +the cartography of Northern Africa. I did not know one word of Arabic, +but it happened that in garrison at Lyon I had taken at the <i>Faculté +des Lettres,</i> a course with Berlioux,—a very erudite geographer no +doubt, but obsessed by one idea, the influence the Greek and Roman +civilizations had exercised on Africa. This detail <!-- Page 43 -->of my life was +enough for Dom Granger. He provided me straightway with Berber +vocabularies by Venture, by Delaporte, by Brosselard; with the +<i>Grammatical Sketch of the Temahaq</i> by Stanley Fleeman, and the <i>Essai +de Grammaire de la langue Temachek</i> by Major Hanoteau. At the end of +three months I was able to decipher any inscriptions in Tifinar. You +know that Tifinar is the national writing of the Tuareg, the +expression of this Temachek language which seems to us the most +curious protest of the Targui race against its Mohammedan enemies.</p> + +<p>"Dom Granger, in fact, believed that the Tuareg are Christians, dating +from a period which it was necessary to ascertain, but which coincided +no doubt with the splendor of the church of Hippon. Even better than +I, you know that the cross is with them the symbol of fate in +decoration. Duveyrier has claimed that it figures in their alphabet, +on their arms, among the designs of their clothes. The only tattooing +that they wear on the forehead, on the back of the hand, is a cross +with four equal branches; the pummels of their saddles, the handles of +their sabres, of their poignards, are cross-shaped. And is it +necessary to remind you that, although Islam forbids bells as a sign +of Christianity, the harness of Tuareg camels are trimmed with bells?</p> + +<p>"Neither Dom Granger nor I attach an exaggerated importance to such +proofs, which resemble too much those which make such a display in the +<i>Genius of Christianity.</i> But it is indeed impossible to refuse all +credence to certain theological arguments. Amanai, the God of the +Tuareg, unquestionably the Adonai of the Bible, is unique. They have a +hell, 'Timsi-tan-elekhaft,' the last fire, where reigns Iblis, our +Lucifer. Their Paradise, where they are rewarded for good deeds, is +inhabited by 'andjelousen,' our angels. And do not urge the +resemblance of this theology to the Koran, for I will meet you with +historic arguments and remind you that the Tuareg have struggled all +through the ages at the cost of partial extermination, to maintain +their faith against the encroachments of Mohammedan fanaticism.</p> + +<p>"Many times I have studied with Dom Granger that formidable epoch when +the aborigines opposed the conquering Arabs. With him I have seen how +the army of Sidi-<!-- Page 44 -->Okba, one of the companions of the Prophet, invaded +this desert to reduce the Tuareg tribes and impose on them Mussulman +rules. These tribes were then rich and prosperous. They were the +Ihbggaren, the Imededren, the Ouadelen, the Kel-Gueress, the Kel-Air. +But internal quarrels sapped their strength. Still, it was not until +after a long and cruel war that the Arabians succeeded in getting +possession of the capital of the Berbers, which had proved such a +redoubtable stronghold. They destroyed it after they had massacred the +inhabitants. On the ruins Okba constructed a new city. This city is +Es-Souk. The one that Sidi-Okba destroyed was the Berber Tadmekka. +What Dom Granger asked of me was precisely that I should try to exhume +from the ruins of the Mussulman Es-Souk the ruins of Tadmekka, which +was Berber, and perhaps Christian."</p> + +<p>"I understand," I murmured.</p> + +<p>"So far, so good," said Morhange. "But what you must grasp now is the +practical sense of these religious men, my masters. You remember that, +even after three years of monastic life, they preserved their doubts +as to the stability of my vocation. They found at the same time means +of testing it once for all, and of adapting official facilities to +their particular purposes. One morning I was called before the Father +Abbot, and this is what he said to me, in the presence of Dom Granger, +who expressed silent approval.</p> + +<p>"'Your term of inactive service expires in fifteen days. You will +return to Paris, and apply at the Ministry to be reinstated. With what +you have learned here, and the relationships we have been able to +maintain at Headquarters, you will have no difficulty in being +attached to the Geographical Staff of the army. When you reach the rue +de Grenelle you will receive our instructions.'</p> + +<p>"I was astonished at their confidence in my knowledge. When I was +reestablished as Captain again in the Geographical Service I +understood. At the monastery, the daily association with Dom Granger +and his pupils had kept me constantly convinced of the inferiority of +my knowledge. When I came in contact with my military brethren I +realized the superiority of the instruction I had received. I did not +have to concern myself with the details of my mission. The <!-- Page 45 -->Ministries +invited me to undertake it. My initiative asserted itself on only one +occasion. When I learned that you were going to leave Wargla on the +present expedition, having reason to distrust my practical +qualifications as an explorer, I did my best to retard your departure, +so that I might join you. I hope that you have forgiven me by now."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The light in the west was fading, where the sun had already sunk into +a matchless luxury of violet draperies. We were alone in this +immensity, at the feet of the rigid black rocks. Nothing but +ourselves. Nothing, nothing but ourselves.</p> + +<p>I held out my hand to Morhange, and he pressed it. Then he said:</p> + +<p>"If they still seem infinitely long to me, the several thousand +kilometers which separate me from the instant when, my task +accomplished, I shall at last find oblivion in the cloister for the +things for which I was not made, let me tell you this;—the several +hundred kilometers which still separate us from Shikh-Salah seem to me +infinitely short to traverse in your company."</p> + +<p>On the pale water of the little pool, motionless and fixed like a +silver nail, a star had just been born.</p> + +<p>"Shikh-Salah," I murmured, my heart full of an indefinable sadness. +"Patience, we are not there yet."</p> + +<p>In truth, we never were to be there.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="V"><!-- Chapter 5 --></a>V</h2> + +<h3>THE INSCRIPTION</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock +from the black flank of the mountain.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me.</p> + +<p>"A basaltic peridot," I said.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 46 -->It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it."</p> + +<p>"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit +that I am otherwise preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Look this way a bit," I said, showing towards the west, on the +horizon, a black spot across the white plain.</p> + +<p>It was six o'clock in the morning. The sun had risen. But it could not +be found in the surprisingly polished air. And not a breath of air, +not a breath. Suddenly one of the camels called. An enormous antelope +had just come in sight, and had stopped in its flight, terrified, +racing the wall of rock. It stayed there at a little distance from us, +dazed, trembling on its slender legs.</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema had rejoined us.</p> + +<p>"When the legs of the mohor tremble it is because the firmament is +shaken," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"A storm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a storm."</p> + +<p>"And you find that alarming?"</p> + +<p>I did not answer immediately. I was exchanging several brief words +with Bou-Djema, who was occupied in soothing the camels which were +giving signs of being restive.</p> + +<p>Morhange repeated his question. I shrugged my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Alarming? I don't know. I have never seen a storm on the Hoggar. But +I distrust it. And the signs are that this is going to be a big one. +See there already."</p> + +<p>A slight dust had risen before the cliff. In the still air a few +grains of sand had begun to whirl round and round, with a speed which +increased to dizziness, giving us in advance the spectacle in +miniature of what would soon be breaking upon us.</p> + +<p>With harsh cries a flock of wild geese appeared, flying low. They came +out of the west.</p> + +<p>"They are fleeing towards the Sebkha d'Amanghor," said Bou-Djema.</p> + +<p>There could be no greater mistake, I thought.</p> + +<p>Morhange looked at me curiously.</p> + +<p>"What must we do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Mount our camels immediately, before they are com<!-- Page 47 -->pletely +demoralized, and hurry to find shelter in some high places. Take +account of our situation. It is easy to follow the bed of a stream. +But within a quarter of an hour perhaps the storm will have burst. +Within a half hour a perfect torrent will be rushing here. On this +soil, which is almost impermeable, rain will roll like a pail of water +thrown on a bituminous pavement. No depth, all height. Look at this."</p> + +<p>And I showed him, a dozen meters high, long hollow gouges, marks of +former erosions on the rocky wall.</p> + +<p>"In an hour the waters will reach that height. Those are the marks of +the last inundation. Let us get started. There is not an instant to +lose."</p> + +<p>"All right," Morhange replied tranquilly.</p> + +<p>We had the greatest difficulty to make the camels kneel. When we had +thrown ourselves into the saddle they started off at a pace which +their terror rendered more and more disorderly.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden the wind began, a formidable wind, and, almost at the same +time the light was eclipsed in the ravine. Above our heads the sky had +become, in the flash of an eye, darker than the walls of the canyon +which we were descending at a breathless pace.</p> + +<p>"A path, a stairway in the wall," I screamed against the wind to my +companions. "If we don't find one in a minute we are lost."</p> + +<p>They did not hear me, but, turning in my saddle, I saw that they had +lost no distance, Morhange following me, and Bou-Djema in the rear +driving the two baggage camels masterfully before him.</p> + +<p>A blinding streak of lightning rent the obscurity. A peal of thunder, +re-echoed to infinity by the rocky wall, rang out, and immediately +great tepid drops began to fall. In an instant, our burnouses, which +had been blown out behind by the speed with which we were traveling, +were stuck tight to our streaming bodies.</p> + +<p>"Saved!" I exclaimed suddenly.</p> + +<p>Abruptly on our right a crevice opened in the midst of the wall. It +was the almost perpendicular bed of a stream, an affluent of the one +we had had the unfortunate idea of <!-- Page 48 -->following that morning. Already a +veritable torrent was gushing over it with a fine uproar.</p> + +<p>I have never better appreciated the incomparable sure-footedness of +camels in the most precipitate places. Bracing themselves, stretching +out their great legs, balancing themselves among the rocks that were +beginning to be swept loose, our camels accomplished at that moment +what the mules of the Pyrannees might have failed in.</p> + +<p>After several moments of superhuman effort we found ourselves at last +out of danger, on a kind of basaltic terrace, elevated some fifty +meters above the channel of the stream we had just left. Luck was with +us; a little grotto opened out behind. Bou-Djema succeeded in +sheltering the camels there. From its threshold we had leisure to +contemplate in silence the prodigious spectacle spread out before us.</p> + +<p>You have, I believe, been at the Camp of Chalons for artillery drills. +You have seen when the shell bursts how the chalky soil of the Marne +effervesces like the inkwells at school, when we used to throw a piece +of calcium carbonate into them. Well, it was almost like that, but in +the midst of the desert, in the midst of obscurity. The white waters +rushed into the depths of the black hole, and rose and rose towards +the pedestal on which we stood. And there was the uninterrupted noise +of thunder, and still louder, the sound of whole walls of rock, +undermined by the flood, collapsing in a heap and dissolving in a few +seconds of time in the midst of the rising water.</p> + +<p>All the time that this deluge lasted, one hour, perhaps two, Morhange +and I stayed bending over this fantastic foaming vat; anxious to see, +to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a +kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we +had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the +water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful +it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare.</p> + +<p>Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each +other.</p> + +<p>Morhange held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said simply.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 49 -->And he added with a smile:</p> + +<p>"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been +pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of +decision, from this very paradoxical end."</p> + +<p>Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to +his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never +have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of +weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly. +No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did +happen.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's +camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the +torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its +unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a +sky that had renewed its blueness. I could feel the clothes that had a +moment before been drenching, drying upon me incredibly fast.</p> + +<p>A hand was placed on my shoulder. Morhange was again beside me.</p> + +<p>"Come here," he said.</p> + +<p>Somewhat surprised, I followed him. We went into the grotto.</p> + +<p>The opening, which was big enough to admit the camels, made it fairly +light. Morhange led me up to the smooth face of rock opposite. "Look," +he said, with unconcealed joy.</p> + +<p>"What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"I see that there are several Tuareg inscriptions," I answered, with +some disappointment. "But I thought I had told you that I read Tifinar +writing very badly. Are these writings more interesting than the +others we have come upon before?"</p> + +<p>"Look at this one," said Morhange. There was such an accent of triumph +in his tone that this time I concentrated my attention.</p> + +<p>I looked again.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 50 -->The characters of the inscription were arranged in the form of a +cross. It plays such an important part in this adventure that I cannot +forego retracing it for you.</p> + +<p class="ctr"> +<img src="images/illus050.gif" id="p50" width="500" height="297" alt="Inscription on the stone" /> +</p> + +<p>It was designed with great regularity, and the characters were cut +deep into the rock. Although I knew so little of rock inscriptions at +that time I had no difficulty in recognizing the antiquity of this +one.</p> + +<p>Morhange became more and more radiant as he regarded it.</p> + +<p>I looked at him questioningly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what have you to say now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to say? I tell you that I can barely read +Tifinar."</p> + +<p>"Shall I help you?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>This course in Berber writing, after the emotions through which we had +just passed, seemed to me a little inopportune. But Morhange was so +visibly delighted that I could not dash his joy.</p> + +<p>"Very well then," began my companion, as much at his, ease +as if he had been before a blackboard, "what will strike you first +about this inscription is its repetition in the form of a cross. That is +to say that it contains the same word twice, top to bottom, and right to +left. The word which it composes has seven letters so the fourth letter, +W [Transcriber's Note: Rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise], comes +naturally in the middle. This arrangement which is unique in Tifinar +writing, is already remarkable enough. But there is better still. Now we +will read it."</p> + +<p>Getting it wrong three times out of seven I finally succeeded, with +Morhange's help, in spelling the word.</p> + +<p>"Have you got it?" asked Morhange when I had finished my task.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 51 -->Less than ever," I answered, a little put out; +"a,n,t,i,n,h,a,—Antinha, I don't know that word, or anything like it, +in all the Saharan dialects I am familiar with."</p> + +<p>Morhange rubbed his hands together. His satisfaction was without +bounds.</p> + +<p>"You have said it. That is why the discovery is unique."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"There is really nothing, either in Berber or in Arabian, analogous to +this word."</p> + +<p>"Then?"</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear friend, we are in the presence of a foreign word, +translated into Tifinar."</p> + +<p>"And this word belongs, according to your theory, to what language?"</p> + +<p>"You must realize that the letter <i>e</i> does not exist in the Tifinar +alphabet. It has here been replaced by the phonetic sign which is +nearest to it,—h. Restore <i>e</i> to the place which belongs to it in the +word, and you have—"</p> + +<p>"Antinea."</p> + +<p>"'Antinea,' precisely. We find ourselves before a Greek vocable +reproduced in Tifinar. And I think that now you will agree with me +that my find has a certain interest."</p> + +<p>That day we had no more conferences upon texts. A loud cry, anguished, +terrifying, rang out.</p> + +<p>We rushed out to find a strange spectacle awaiting us.</p> + +<p>Although the sky had cleared again, the torrent of yellow water was +still foaming and no one could predict when it would fall. In +mid-stream, struggling desperately in the current, was an +extraordinary mass, gray and soft and swaying.</p> + +<p>But what at the first glance overwhelmed us with astonishment was to +see Bou-Djema, usually so calm, at this moment apparently beside +himself with frenzy, bounding through the gullies and over the rocks +of the ledge, in full pursuit of the shipwreck.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden I seized Morhange by the arm. The grayish thing was alive. +A pitiful long neck emerged from it with the heartrending cry of a +beast in despair.</p> + +<p>"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the +stream is carrying it away!"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 52 -->You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. +The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish +we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave +Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the +intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream."</p> + +<p>"Who gave that cry, then?"</p> + +<p>"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is +descending at such a rate."</p> + +<p>And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the +recently washed gullies of the rocky bank.</p> + +<p>At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his +destiny.</p> + +<p>I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or +three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing +brook where the water was falling a trifle.</p> + +<p>"See there?" said Morhange.</p> + +<p>A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek.</p> + +<p>When we had come up even with it we saw that it was a man in the long +dark blue robes of the Tuareg.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand," said Morhange, "and brace yourself against a +rock, hard."</p> + +<p>He was very, very strong. In an instant, as if it were child's play, +he had brought the body ashore.</p> + +<p>"He is still alive," he pronounced with satisfaction. "Now it is a +question of getting him to the grotto. This is no place to resuscitate +a drowned man."</p> + +<p>He raised the body in his powerful arms.</p> + +<p>"It is astonishing how little he weighs for a man of his height."</p> + +<p>By the time we had retraced the way to the grotto the man's cotton +clothes were almost dry. But the dye had run plentifully, and it was +an indigo man that Morhange was trying to recall to life.</p> + +<p>When I had made him swallow a quart of rum he opened his eyes, looked +at the two of us with surprise, then, closing them again, murmured +almost unintelligibly a phrase, the sense of which we did not get +until some days later:</p> + +<p>"Can it be that I have reached the end of my mission?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 53 -->What mission is he talking about?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Let him recover himself completely," responded Morhange. "You had +better open some preserved food. With fellows of this build you don't +have to observe the precautions prescribed for drowned Europeans."</p> + +<p>It was indeed a species of giant, whose life we had just saved. His +face, although very thin, was regular, almost beautiful. He had a +clear skin and little beard. His hair, already white, showed him to be +a man of sixty years.</p> + +<p>When I placed a tin of corned-beef before him a light of voracious joy +came into his eyes. The tin contained an allowance for four persons. +It was empty in a flash.</p> + +<p>"Behold," said Morhange, "a robust appetite. Now we can put our +questions without scruple."</p> + +<p>Already the Targa had placed over his forehead and face the blue veil +prescribed by the ritual. He must have been completely famished not to +have performed this indispensable formality sooner. There was nothing +visible now but the eyes, watching us with a light that grew steadily +more sombre.</p> + +<p>"French officers," he murmured at last.</p> + +<p>And he took Morhange's hand, and having placed it against his breast, +carried it to his lips.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an expression of anxiety passed over his face.</p> + +<p>"And my mehari?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his +beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the +current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. +His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he +remembered nothing more.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen."</p> + +<p>"What tribe do you belong to?"</p> + +<p>"The tribe of Kel-Tahat."</p> + +<p>"The Kel-Tahats are the serfs of the tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, the great +nobles of Hoggar?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, casting a side glance in my direction. It seemed +that such precise questions on the affairs of Ahygar were not to his liking.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 54 -->The Kel-Tahats, if I am not mistaken, are established on the +southwest flank of Atakor.<a name="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> +What were you doing, so far from your home territory when we saved your life?"</p> + +<p>"I was going, by way of Tit, to In-Salah," he said.</p> + +<p>"What were you going to do at In-Salah?"</p> + +<p>He was about to reply. But suddenly we saw him tremble. His eyes were +fixed on a point of the cavern. We looked to see what it was. He had +just seen the rock inscription which had so delighted Morhange an hour before.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that?" Morhange asked him with keen curiosity.</p> + +<p>The Targa did not speak a word but his eyes had a strange light.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that?" insisted Morhange.</p> + +<p>And he added:</p> + +<p>"Antinea?"</p> + +<p>"Antinea," repeated the man.</p> + +<p>And he was silent.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you answer the Captain?" I called out, with a strange +feeling of rage sweeping over me.</p> + +<p>The Targui looked at me. I thought that he was going to speak. But his +eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features stiffening.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I turned around.</p> + +<p>On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by +an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 55 --> +<h2><a name="VI"><!-- Chapter 6 --></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both +the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately +repressed. It was nothing more than a fleeting impression. +Nevertheless, it was enough to make me resolve that as soon as I was +alone with our guide, I would question him closely concerning our new companion.</p> + +<p>The beginning of the day had been wearisome enough. We decided, +therefore, to spend the rest of it there, and even to pass the night +in the cave, waiting till the flood had completely subsided.</p> + +<p>In the morning, when I was marking our day's march upon the map, +Morhange came toward me. I noticed that his manner was somewhat restrained.</p> + +<p>"In three days, we shall be at Shikh-Salah," I said to him. "Perhaps +by the evening of the second day, badly as the camels go."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we shall separate before then," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"You see, I have changed my itinerary a little. I have given up the +idea of going straight to Timissao. First I should like to make a +little excursion into the interior of the Ahaggar range."</p> + +<p>I frowned:</p> + +<p>"What is this new idea?"</p> + +<p>As I spoke I looked about for Eg-Anteouen, whom I had seen in +conversation with Morhange the previous evening and several minutes +before. He was quietly mending one of his sandals with a waxed thread +supplied by Bou-Djema. He did not raise his head.</p> + +<p>"It is simply," explained Morhange, less and less at his ease, "that +this man tells me there are similar inscriptions in several caverns in +western Ahaggar. These caves are near the road that he has to take +returning home. He must pass by Tit. Now, from Tit, by way of Silet, +is hardly two hundred <!-- Page 56 -->kilometers. It is a quasi-classic +route<a name="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> as +short again as the one that I shall have to take alone, after I leave +you, from Shikh-Salah to Timissao. That is in part, you see, the +reason which has made me decide to...."</p> + +<p>"In part? In very small part," I replied. "But is your mind absolutely +made up?"</p> + +<p>"It is," he answered me.</p> + +<p>"When do you expect to leave me?"</p> + +<p>"To-day. The road which Eg-Anteouen proposes to take into Ahaggar +crosses this one about four leagues from here. I have a favor to ask +of you in this connection."</p> + +<p>"Please tell me."</p> + +<p>"It is to let me take one of the two baggage camels, since my Targa +has lost his."</p> + +<p>"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does +your own mehari," I answered coldly.</p> + +<p>We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained +an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or +less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored +portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the +tan area of supposed mountains.</p> + +<p>I finally said:</p> + +<p>"You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, +you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?"</p> + +<p>He looked at me uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask that?"</p> + +<p>"Because, if you promise me that,—provided, of course, that my +company is not unwelcome to you—I will go with you. Either way, I +shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for Shikh-Salah from the south, +instead of from the west—that is the only difference."</p> + +<p>Morhange looked at me with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Why do you do this?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 57 -->My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed +Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which +becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave +you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the +storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to +have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may +be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well +pleased not to let you run sure risks alone."</p> + +<p>"I have a guide," he said with his adorable naiveté.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old slipper.</p> + +<p>I took a step toward him.</p> + +<p>"You heard what I said to the Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the Targa answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must +bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?"</p> + +<p>"I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the +Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march +southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But +farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are +good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, +come to water their camels."</p> + +<p>"And you know the road well?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile.</p> + +<p>"I have taken it twenty times," he said.</p> + +<p>"In that case, let's get started."</p> + +<p>We rode for two hours. I did not exchange a word with Morhange. I had +a clear intuition of the folly we were committing in risking ourselves +so unconcernedly in that least known and most dangerous part of the +Sahara. Every blow which had been struck in the last twenty years to +undermine the French advance had come from this redoubtable Ahaggar. +But what of it? It was of my own will that I had joined in this mad +scheme. No need of going over it again. What was the use of spoiling +my action by a continual exhibition of disapproval? And, furthermore, +I may as well admit that <!-- Page 58 -->I rather liked the turn that our trip was +beginning to take. I had, at that instant, the sensation of journeying +toward something incredible, toward some tremendous adventure. You do +not live with impunity for months and years as the guest of the +desert. Sooner or later, it has its way with you, annihilates the good +officer, the timid executive, overthrows his solicitude for his +responsibilities. What is there behind those mysterious rocks, those +dim solitudes, which have held at bay the most illustrious pursuers of +mystery? You follow, I tell you, you follow.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"Are you sure at least that this inscription is interesting enough to +justify us in our undertaking?" I asked Morhange.</p> + +<p>My companion started with pleasure. Ever since we began our journey I +had realized his fear that I was coming along half-heartedly. As soon +as I offered him a chance to convince me, his scruples vanished, and +his triumph seemed assured to him.</p> + +<p>"Never," he answered, in a voice that he tried to control, but through +which the enthusiasm rang out, "never has a Greek inscription been +found so far south. The farthest points where they have been reported +are in the south of Algeria and Cyrene. But in Ahaggar! Think of it! +It is true that this one is translated into Tifinar. But this +peculiarity does not diminish the interest of the coincidence: it +increases it."</p> + +<p>"What do you take to be the meaning of this word?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Antinea</i> can only be a proper name," said Morhange. "To whom does it +refer? I admit I don't know, and if at this very moment I am marching +toward the south, dragging you along with me, it is because I count on +learning more about it. Its etymology? It hasn't one definitely, but +there are thirty possibilities. Bear in mind that the Tifinar alphabet +is far from tallying with the Greek alphabet, which increases the +number of hypotheses. Shall I suggest several?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 59 -->I was just about to ask you to."</p> + +<p>"To begin with, there is +<img src="images/tfnr59_1.gif" width="95" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +and +<img src="images/tfnr59_2.gif" width="86" height="46" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +<i>the woman who is placed opposite a vessel</i>, an explanation which would have been pleasing to +Gaffarel and to my venerated master Berlioux. That would apply well +enough to the figure-heads of ships. There is a technical term that I +cannot recall at this moment, not if you beat me a hundred times +over.<a name="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7"><sup>[7]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"Then there is +<img src="images/tfnr59_3.gif" width="144" height="45" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, that you must relate to +<img src="images/tfnr59_4.gif" width="98" height="39" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> + and +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, <i>she who holds herself before the</i> +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, the +<img src="images/tfnr59_5.gif" width="95" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +of the temple, <i>she who is opposite the sanctuary,</i> therefore priestess. An interpretation +which would enchant Girard and Renan.</p> + +<p>"Next we have +<img src="images/tfnr59_6.gif" width="134" height="44" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, from +<img src="images/tfnr59_7.gif" width="90" height="41" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +and +<img src="images/tfnr59_8.gif" width="90" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, new, which can mean two things: either <i>she who is the contrary of young</i>, which is to say +old; or <i>she who is the enemy of novelty</i> or <i>the enemy of youth</i>.</p> + +<p>"There is still another sense of +<img src="images/tfnr59_9.gif" width="108" height="42" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, <i>in exchange for,</i> which is capable of complicating all the others I have mentioned; +likewise there are four meanings for the verb +<img src="images/tfnr59_10.gif" width="73" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, which means in turn <i>to go, to flow, to thread</i> or <i>weave, to heap</i>. +There is more still.... And notice, please, that I have not at my disposition on the +otherwise commodious hump of this mehari, either the great dictionary of +Estienne or the lexicons of Passow, of Pape, or of Liddel-Scott. This +is only to show you, my dear friend, that epigraphy is but a relative +science, always dependent on the discovery of a new text which +contradicts the previous findings, when it is not merely at the mercy +of the humors of the epigraphists and their pet conceptions of the universe.</p> + +<p>"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my +astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal, +you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite considerable."</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled wanly.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 60 -->I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back +to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are +beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me."</p> + +<p>Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well +fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema +repair the damage.</p> + +<p>When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's.</p> + +<p>"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will +have to climb the mountain."</p> + +<p>The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought +it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed +Eg-Anteouen would have told him.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not +mountainous," said the Chaamba.</p> + +<p>"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going +south, by Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...."</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know the road."</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us."</p> + +<p>"Eg-Anteouen!"</p> + +<p>I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes +were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with +Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be +conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were +not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words.</p> + +<p>Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered.</p> + +<p>His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 61 -->Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to +pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell +you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead. +Join the Captain."</p> + +<p>"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as +to make him overtake Morhange.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way, +came to a stop.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of +granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced, +from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high +and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk +abreast.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," repeated the Targa.</p> + +<p>To the west, straight behind us, the track that we were leaving +unrolled like a pale ribbon. The white plain, the road to Shikh-Salah, +the established halts, the well-known wells.... And, on the other +side, this black wall against the mauve sky, this dark passage.</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange.</p> + +<p>"We had better stop here," he said simply. "Eg-Anteouen advises us to +take as much water here as we can carry."</p> + +<p>With one accord we decided to spend the night there, before +undertaking the mountain.</p> + +<p>There was a spring, in a dark basin, from which fell a little cascade; +there were a few shrubs, a few plants.</p> + +<p>Already the camels were browsing at the length of their tethers.</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema arranged our camp dinner service of tin cups and plates on a +great flat stone. An opened tin of meat lay beside a plate of lettuce +which he had just gathered from the moist earth around the spring. I +could tell from the distracted manner in which he placed these objects +upon the rock how deep was his anxiety.</p> + +<p>As he was bending toward me to hand me a plate, he pointed to the +gloomy black corridor which we were about to enter.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blad-el-Khouf!"</i> he murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 62 -->What did he say?" asked Morhange, who had seen the gesture.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blad-el-Khouf. This is the country of fear.</i> That is what the Arabs +call Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>Bou-Djema went a little distance off and sat down, leaving us to our +dinner. Squatting on his heels, he began to eat a few lettuce leaves +that he had kept for his own meal.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen was still motionless.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Targa rose. The sun in the west was no larger than a red +brand. We saw Eg-Anteouen approach the fountain, spread his blue +burnous on the ground and kneel upon it.</p> + +<p>"I did not suppose that the Tuareg were so observant of Mussulman +tradition," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," I replied thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>But I had something to do at that moment besides making such +speculations.</p> + +<p>"Bou-Djema," I called.</p> + +<p>At the same time, I looked at Eg-Anteouen. Absorbed in his prayer, +bowed toward the west, apparently he was paying no attention to me. As +he prostrated himself, I called again.</p> + +<p>"Bou-Djema, come with me to my mehari; I want to get something out of +the saddle bags."</p> + +<p>Still kneeling, Eg-Anteouen was mumbling his prayer slowly, +composedly.</p> + +<p>But Bou-Djema had not budged.</p> + +<p>His only response was a deep moan.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I leaped to our feet and ran to the guide. Eg-Anteouen +reached him as soon as we did.</p> + +<p>With his eyes closed and his limbs already cold, the Chaamba breathed +a death rattle in Morhange's arms. I had seized one of his hands. +Eg-Anteouen took the other. Each, in his own way, was trying to +divine, to understand....</p> + +<p>Suddenly Eg-Anteouen leapt to his feet. He had just seen the poor +embossed bowl which the Arab had held an instant before between his +knees, and which now lay overturned upon the ground.</p> + +<p>He picked it up, looked quickly at one after another of <!-- Page 63 -->the leaves of +lettuce remaining in it, and then gave a hoarse exclamation.</p> + +<p>"So," said Morhange, "it's his turn now; he is going to go mad."</p> + +<p>Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the +rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, +holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched.</p> + +<p>Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and +held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl.</p> + +<p>"<i>Afahlehle,"</i> was all he said.</p> + +<p>I shuddered, and so did Morhange. It was the <i>afahlehla,</i> the +<i>falestez</i>, of the Arabs of the Sahara, the terrible plant which had +killed a part of the Flatters mission more quickly and surely than +Tuareg arms.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen stood up. His tall silhouette was outlined blackly against +the sky which suddenly had turned pale lilac. He was watching us.</p> + +<p>We bent again over the unfortunate guide.</p> + +<p>"<i>Afahlehle,"</i> the Targa repeated, and shook his head.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Bou-Djema died in the middle of the night without having regained +consciousness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="VII"><!-- Chapter 8 --></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>THE COUNTRY OF FEAR</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"It is curious," said Morhange, "to see how our expedition, uneventful +since we left Ouargla, is now becoming exciting."</p> + +<p>He said this after kneeling for a moment in prayer before the +painfully dug grave in which we had lain the guide.</p> + +<p>I do not believe in God. But if anything can influence whatever powers +there may be, whether of good or of evil, of light or of darkness, it +is the prayer of such a man.</p> + +<p>For two days we picked our way through a gigantic chaos of black rock +in what might have been the country <!-- Page 64 -->of the moon, so barren was it. No +sound but that of stones rolling under the feet of the camels and +striking like gunshots at the foot of the precipices.</p> + +<p>A strange march indeed. For the first few hours, I tried to pick out, +by compass, the route we were following. But my calculations were soon +upset; doubtless a mistake due to the swaying motion of the camel. I +put the compass back in one of my saddle-bags. From that time on, +Eg-Anteouen was our master. We could only trust ourselves to him.</p> + +<p>He went first; Morhange followed him, and I brought up the rear. We +passed at every step most curious specimens of volcanic rock. But I +did not examine them. I was no longer interested in such things. +Another kind of curiosity had taken possession of me. I had come to +share Morhange's madness. If my companion had said to me: "We are +doing a very rash thing. Let us go back to the known trails," I should +have replied, "You are free to do as you please. But I am going on."</p> + +<p>Toward evening of the second day, we found ourselves at the foot of a +black mountain whose jagged ramparts towered in profile seven thousand +feet above our heads. It was an enormous shadowy fortress, like the +outline of a feudal stronghold silhouetted with incredible sharpness +against the orange sky.</p> + +<p>There was a well, with several trees, the first we had seen since +cutting into Ahaggar.</p> + +<p>A group of men were standing about it. Their camels, tethered close +by, were cropping a mouthful here and there.</p> + +<p>At seeing us, the men drew together, alert, on the defensive.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen turned to us and said:</p> + +<p>"Eggali Tuareg."</p> + +<p>We went toward them.</p> + +<p>They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever +have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well, +leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked +at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any +rate, with respect.</p> + +<p>I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and <!-- Page 65 -->was astonished +at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even +of my glance.</p> + +<p>When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for +which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not +prepared me.</p> + +<p>"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And +yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to +which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe."</p> + +<p>A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen.</p> + +<p>"It is true," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well then?"</p> + +<p>"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the +Mountain of the Evil Spirits."</p> + +<p>With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain.</p> + +<p>"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain +of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very +mention of its name."</p> + +<p>"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?" +queried Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I +told you about."</p> + +<p>"You did not mention that detail to us."</p> + +<p>"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the <i>ilhinen,</i> spirits with +horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die +and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not +afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg."</p> + +<p>"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the +<i>ilhinen</i>?"</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a +chain of white seeds.</p> + +<p>"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable +Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You +have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!"</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long +reed pipe and began to smoke gravely.</p> + +<p>"All this is beginning to seem very strange," said Morhange, coming +over to me.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 66 -->You can say that without exaggeration," I replied. "You remember as +well as I the passage in which Barth tells of his expedition to the +Idinen, the Mountain of the Evil Spirits of the Azdjer Tuareg. The +region had so evil a reputation that no Targa would go with him. But +he got back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he got back," replied my comrade, "but only after he had been +lost. Without water or food, he came so near dying of hunger and +thirst that he had to open a vein and drink his own blood. The +prospect is not particularly attractive."</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was not my fault that we were +there.</p> + +<p>Morhange understood my gesture and thought it necessary to make +excuses.</p> + +<p>"I should be curious," he went on with rather forced gaiety, "to meet +these spirits and substantiate the facts of Pomponius Mela who knew +them and locates them, in fact, in the mountain of the Tuareg. He +calls them <i>Egipans, Blemyens, Gamphasantes, Satyrs.... 'The +Gamphasantes</i>, he says, 'are naked. The <i>Blemyens</i> have no head: their +faces are placed on their chests; the <i>Satyrs</i> have nothing like men +except faces. The <i>Egipans</i> are made as is commonly described.' ... +<i>Satyrs, Egipans</i> ... isn't it very strange to find Greek names given +to the barbarian spirits of this region? Believe me, we are on a +curious trail; I am sure that Antinea will be our key to remarkable +discoveries."</p> + +<p>"Listen," I said, laying a finger on my lips.</p> + +<p>Strange sounds rose from about us as the evening advanced with great +strides. A kind of crackling, followed by long rending shrieks, echoed +and reechoed to infinity in the neighboring ravines. It seemed to me +that the whole black mountain suddenly had begun to moan.</p> + +<p>We looked at Eg-Anteouen. He was smoking on, without twitching a +muscle.</p> + +<p>"The <i>ilhinen</i> are waking up," he said simply.</p> + +<p>Morhange listened without saying a word. Doubtless he understood as I +did: the overheated rocks, the crackling of the stone, a whole series +of physical phenomena, the example of the singing statue of Memnon.... +But, for all <!-- Page 67 -->that, this unexpected concert reacted no less painfully +on our overstrained nerves.</p> + +<p>The last words of poor Bou-Djema came to my mind.</p> + +<p>"The country of fear," I murmured in a low voice.</p> + +<p>And Morhange repeated:</p> + +<p>"The country of fear."</p> + +<p>The strange concert ceased as the first stars appeared in the sky. +With deep emotion we watched the tiny bluish flames appear, one after +another. At that portentous moment they seemed to span the distance +between us, isolated, condemned, lost, and our brothers of higher +latitudes, who at that hour were rushing about their poor pleasures +with delirious frenzy in cities where the whiteness of electric lamps +came on in a burst.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Chêt-Ahadh essa hetîsenet</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâteredjrê d'Erredjaot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâtesekek d-Essekâot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Mâtelahrlahr d'Ellerhâot,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>Ettâs djenen, barâd tît-ennit abâtet.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen's voice raised itself in slow guttural tones. It resounded +with sad, grave majesty in the silence now complete.</p> + +<p>I touched the Targa's arm. With a movement of his head, he pointed to +a constellation glittering in the firmament.</p> + +<p>"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale +stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same +monotone:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"The Daughters of the Night are seven:<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâteredjrê and Erredjeâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâtesekek and Essekâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mâtelahrlahr and Ellerhâot,<br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A sudden sickness came over me. I seized the Targa's arm as he was +starting to intone his refrain for the third time.</p> + +<p>"When will we reach this cave with the inscriptions?" I asked +brusquely.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 68 -->He looked at me and replied with his usual calm:</p> + +<p>"We are there."</p> + +<p>"We are there? Then why don't you show it to us?"</p> + +<p>"You did not ask me," he replied, not without a touch of insolence.</p> + +<p>Morhange had jumped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"The cave is here?"</p> + +<p>"It is here," Eg-Anteouen replied slowly, rising to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Take us to it."</p> + +<p>"Morhange," I said, suddenly anxious, "night is falling. We will see +nothing. And perhaps it is still some way off."</p> + +<p>"It is hardly five hundred paces," Eg-Anteouen replied. "The cave is +full of dead underbrush. We will set it on fire and the Captain will +see as in full daylight."</p> + +<p>"Come," my comrade repeated.</p> + +<p>"And the camels?" I hazarded.</p> + +<p>"They are tethered," said Eg-Anteouen, "and we shall not be gone +long."</p> + +<p>He had started toward the black mountain. Morhange, trembling with +excitement, followed. I followed, too, the victim of profound +uneasiness. My pulses throbbed. "I am not afraid," I kept repeating to +myself. "I swear that this is not fear."</p> + +<p>And really it was not fear. Yet, what a strange dizziness! There was a +mist over my eyes. My ears buzzed. Again I heard Eg-Anteouen's voice, +but multiplied, immense, and at the same time, very low.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"The Daughters of the Night are seven...."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It seemed to me that the voice of the mountain, re-echoing, repeated +that sinister last line to infinity:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"And the seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Here it is," said the Targa.</p> + +<p>A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. +We followed him. The darkness closed around us.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 69 -->A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a +pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The +smoke blinded us.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave. He was +seated and, more inscrutible than ever, had begun again to blow great +puffs of gray smoke from his pipe.</p> + +<p>The burning brush cast a flickering light. I caught a glimpse of +Morhange. He seemed very pale. With both hands braced against the +wall, he was working to decipher a mass of signs which I could +scarcely distinguish.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I thought I could see his hands trembling.</p> + +<p>"The devil," I thought, finding it more and more difficult to +co-ordinate my thoughts, "he seems to be as unstrung as I."</p> + +<p>I heard him call out to Eg-Anteouen in what seemed to me a loud voice:</p> + +<p>"Stand to one side. Let the air in. What a smoke!"</p> + +<p>He kept on working at the signs.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I heard him again, but with difficulty. It seemed as if even +sounds were confused in the smoke.</p> + +<p>"Antinea ... At last ... Antinea. But not cut in the rock ... the +marks traced in ochre ... not ten years old, perhaps not five.... +Oh!...."</p> + +<p>He pressed his hands to his head. Again he cried out:</p> + +<p>"It is a mystery. A tragic mystery."</p> + +<p>I laughed teasingly.</p> + +<p>"Come on, come on. Don't get excited over it."</p> + +<p>He took me by the arm and shook me. I saw his eyes big with terror and +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad?" he yelled in my face.</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," I replied with the same little laugh.</p> + +<p>He looked at me again, and sank down, overcome, on a rock opposite me. +Eg-Anteouen was still smoking placidly at the mouth of the cave. We +could see the red circle of his pipe glowing in the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Madman! Madman!" repeated Morhange. His voice seemed to stick in his +throat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he bent over the brush which was giving its last darts of +flame, high and clear. He picked out a branch <!-- Page 70 -->which had not yet +caught. I saw him examine it carefully, then throw it back in the fire +with a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha! That's good, all right!"</p> + +<p>He staggered toward Eg-Anteouen, pointing to the fire.</p> + +<p>"It's hemp. Hasheesh, hasheesh. Oh, that's a good one, all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter.</p> + +<p>Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his +inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes.</p> + +<p>A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm.</p> + +<p>"I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave +him one.</p> + +<p>"What! A European pipe?"</p> + +<p>"A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer.</p> + +<p>"With an initial, 'M.' As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange."</p> + +<p>"Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange.</p> + +<p>We laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of +Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson."</p> + +<p>"It was Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," repeated the Targa with imperturbable +calm.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson and Colonel Flatters had left the convoy to look for +the well," said Morhange, laughing.</p> + +<p>"It was then that the Tuareg attacked them," I finished, laughing as +hard as I could.</p> + +<p>"A Targa of Ahagga seized the bridle of Captain Masson's horse," said +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had hold of Colonel Flatters' bridle," put in +Eg-Anteouen.</p> + +<p>"The Colonel puts his foot in the stirrup and receives a cut from +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's saber," I said.</p> + +<p>"Captain Masson draws his revolver and fires on Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +shooting off three fingers of his left hand," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but +<!-- Page 71 -->Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, +with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull."..</p> + +<p>He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up +his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in +his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I +had not noticed that before.</p> + +<p>Morhange also noticed it, for he finished with a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"Then, after splitting his skull, you robbed him. You took his pipe +from him. Bravo, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh!"</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh does not reply, but I can see how satisfied with +himself he is. He keeps on smoking. I can hardly see his features now. +The firelight pales, dies. I have never laughed so much as this +evening. I am sure Morhange never has, either. Perhaps he will forget +the cloister. And all because Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh stole Captain +Masson's pipe....</p> + +<p>Again that accursed song. "The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has +flown away." One cannot imagine more senseless words. It is very +strange, really: there seem to be four of us in this cave now. Four, I +say, five, six, seven, eight.... Make yourselves at home, my friends. +What! there are no more of you?... I am going to find out at last how +the spirits of this region are made, the <i>Gamphasantes</i>, the +<i>Blemyens</i>.... Morhange says that the <i>Blemyens</i> have their faces on +the middle of their chests. Surely this one who is seizing me in his +arms is not a <i>Blemyen</i>! Now he is carrying me outside. And Morhange +... I do not want them to forget Morhange....</p> + +<p>They did not forget him; I see him perched on a camel in front of that +one to which I am fastened. They did well to fasten me, for otherwise +I surely would tumble off. These spirits certainly are not bad +fellows. But what a long way it is! I want to stretch out. To sleep. A +while ago we surely were following a long passage, then we were in the +open air. Now we are again in an endless stifling corridor. Here are +the stars again.... Is this ridiculous course going to keep on?...</p> + +<p>Hello, lights! Stars, perhaps. No, lights, I say. A stairway, on my +word; of rocks, to be sure, but still, a stairway. How <!-- Page 72 -->can the +camels...? But it is no longer a camel; this is a man carrying me. A +man dressed in white, not a <i>Gamphasante</i> nor a <i>Blemyen</i>. Morhange +must be giving himself airs with his historical reasoning, all false, +I repeat, all false. Good Morhange. Provided that his <i>Gamphasante</i> +does not let him fall on this unending stairway. Something glitters on +the ceiling. Yes, it is a lamp, a copper lamp, as at Tunis, at +Barbouchy's. Good, here again you cannot see anything. But I am making +a fool of myself; I am lying down; now I can go to sleep. What a silly +day!... Gentlemen, I assure you that it is unnecessary to bind me: I +do not want to go down on the boulevards.</p> + +<p>Darkness again. Steps of someone going away. Silence.</p> + +<p>But only for a moment. Someone is talking beside me. What are they +saying?... No, it is impossible. That metallic ring, that voice. Do +you know what it is calling, that voice, do you know what it is +calling in the tones of someone used to the phrase? Well, it is +calling:</p> + +<p>"Play your cards, gentlemen, play your cards. There are ten thousand +<i>louis</i> in the bank. Play your cards, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>In the name of God, am I or am I not at Ahaggar?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="VIII"><!-- Chapter 9 --></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I thought at once of +Morhange. I could not see him, but I heard him, close by, giving +little grunts of surprise.</p> + +<p>I called to him. He ran to me.</p> + +<p>"Then they didn't tie you up?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. They did. But they did it badly; I managed to get +free."</p> + +<p>"You might have untied me, too," I remarked crossly.</p> + +<p>"What good would it have done? I should only have waked you up. And I +thought that your first word would be to call me. There, that's done."</p> + +<p>I reeled as I tried to stand on my feet.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 73 -->Morhange smiled.</p> + +<p>"We might have spent the whole night smoking and drinking and not been +in a worse state," he said. "Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his +hasheesh is a fine rascal."</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected.</p> + +<p>I rubbed my hand over my forehead.</p> + +<p>"Where are we?"</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the +extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the +lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from +surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion. Just look around +you."</p> + +<p>I rubbed my eyes and stared. Then I seized my friend's hand.</p> + +<p>"Morhange," I begged, "tell me if we are still dreaming."</p> + +<p>We were in a round room, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and of about +the same height, lighted by a great window opening on a sky of intense +blue.</p> + +<p>Swallows flew back and forth, outside, giving quick, joyous cries.</p> + +<p>The floor, the incurving walls and the ceiling were of a kind of +veined marble like porphyry, panelled with a strange metal, paler than +gold, darker than silver, clouded just then by the early morning mist +that came in through the window in great puffs.</p> + +<p>I staggered toward this window, drawn by the freshness of the breeze +and the sunlight which was chasing away my dreams, and I leaned my +elbows on the balustrade.</p> + +<p>I could not restrain a cry of delight.</p> + +<p>I was standing on a kind of balcony, cut into the flank of a mountain, +overhanging an abyss. Above me, blue sky; below appeared a veritable +earthly paradise hemmed in on all sides by mountains that formed a +continuous and impassable wall about it. A garden lay spread out down +there. The palm trees gently swayed their great fronds. At their feet +was a tangle of the smaller trees which grow in an oasis under their +protection: almonds, lemons, oranges, and many others which I could +not distinguish from that height. A broad blue stream, fed by a +waterfall, emptied into a charming lake, the waters of which had the +marvellous trans<!-- Page 74 -->parency which comes in high altitudes. Great birds +flew in circles over this green hollow; I could see in the lake the +red flash of a flamingo.</p> + +<p>The peaks of the mountains which towered on all sides were completely +covered with snow.</p> + +<p>The blue stream, the green palms, the golden fruit, and above it all, +the miraculous snow, all this bathed in that limpid air, gave such an +impression of beauty, of purity, that my poor human strength could no +longer stand the sight of it. I laid my forehead on the balustrade, +which, too, was covered with that heavenly snow, and began to cry like +a baby.</p> + +<p>Morhange was behaving like another child. But he had awakened before I +had, and doubtless had had time to grasp, one by one, all these +details whose fantastic <i>ensemble</i> staggered me.</p> + +<p>He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back into the +room.</p> + +<p>"You haven't seen anything yet," he said. "Look! Look!"</p> + +<p>"Morhange!"</p> + +<p>"Well, old man, what do you want me to do about it? Look!"</p> + +<p>I had just realized that the strange room was furnished—God forgive +me—in the European fashion. There were indeed, here and there, round +leather Tuareg cushions, brightly colored blankets from Gafsa, rugs +from Kairouan, and Caramani hangings which, at that moment, I should +have dreaded to draw aside. But a half-open panel in the wall showed a +bookcase crowded with books. A whole row of photographs of +masterpieces of ancient art were hung on the walls. Finally there was +a table almost hidden under its heap of papers, pamphlets, books. I +thought I should collapse at seeing a recent number of the +<i>Archaeological Review</i>.</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange. He was looking at me, and suddenly a mad laugh +seized us and doubled us up for a good minute.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," Morhange finally managed to say, "whether or not we +shall regret some day our little excursion into Ahaggar. But admit, in +the meantime, that it promises to be rich in unexpected adventures. +That unforgettable <!-- Page 75 -->guide who puts us to sleep just to distract us +from the unpleasantness of caravan life and who lets me experience, in +the best of good faith, the far-famed delights of hasheesh: that +fantastic night ride, and, to cap the climax, this cave of a Nureddin +who must have received the education of the Athenian Bersot at the +French <i>Ecole Normale</i>—all this is enough, on my word, to upset the +wits of the best balanced."</p> + +<p>"What do I think, my poor friend? Why, just what you yourself think. I +don't understand it at all, not at all. What you politely call my +learning is not worth a cent. And why shouldn't I be all mixed up? +This living in caves amazes me. Pliny speaks of the natives living in +caves, seven days' march southwest of the country of the Amantes, and +twelve days to the westward of the great Syrte. Herodotus says also +that the Garamentes used to go out in their chariots to hunt the +cave-dwelling Ethopians. But here we are in Ahaggar, in the midst of +the Targa country, and the best authorities tell us that the Tuareg +never have been willing to live in caves. Duveyrier is precise on that +point. And what is this, I ask you, but a cave turned into a workroom, +with pictures of the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Sauroctone on the +walls? I tell you that it is enough to drive you mad."</p> + +<p>And Morhange threw himself on a couch and began to roar with laughter +again.</p> + +<p>"See," I said, "this is Latin."</p> + +<p>I had picked up several scattered papers from the work-table in the +middle of the room. Morhange took them from my hands and devoured them +greedily. His face expressed unbounded stupefaction.</p> + +<p>"Stranger and stranger, my boy. Someone here is composing, with much +citation of texts, a dissertation on the Gorgon Islands: <i>de Gorgonum +insulis</i>. Medusa, according to him, was a Libyan savage who lived near +Lake Triton, our present Chott Melhrir, and it is there that Perseus +... Ah!"</p> + +<p>Morhange's words choked in his throat. A sharp, shrill voice pierced +the immense room.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I beg you, let my papers alone."</p> + +<p>I turned toward the newcomer.</p> + +<p>One of the Caramani curtains was drawn aside, and the <!-- Page 76 -->most unexpected +of persons came in. Resigned as we were to unexpected events, the +improbability of this sight exceeded anything our imaginations could +have devised.</p> + +<p>On the threshold stood a little bald-headed man with a pointed sallow +face half hidden by an enormous pair of green spectacles and a pepper +and salt beard. No shirt was visible, but an impressive broad red +cravat. He wore white trousers. Red leather slippers furnished the +only Oriental suggestion of his costume.</p> + +<p>He wore, not without pride, the rosette of an officer of the +Department of Education.</p> + +<p>He collected the papers which Morhange had dropped in his amazement, +counted them, arranged them; then, casting a peevish glance at us, he +struck a copper gong.</p> + +<p>The portiére was raised again. A huge white Targa entered. I seemed to +recognize him as one of the genii of +the cave.<a name="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8"><sup>[8]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of +Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?"</p> + +<p>The Targa bowed respectfully.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, +"and last night the embalmers had not yet finished. They brought them +here in the meantime," and he pointed to us.</p> + +<p>"Very well, you may go," snapped the little man.</p> + +<p>Ferradji backed toward the door. On the threshold, he stopped and +spoke again:</p> + +<p>"I was to remind you, sir, that dinner is served."</p> + +<p>"All right. Go along."</p> + +<p>And the little man seated himself at the desk and began to finger the papers feverishly.</p> + +<p>I do not know why, but a mad feeling of exasperation seized me. I +walked toward him.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 77 -->Sir," I said, "my friend and I do not know where we are nor who you +are. We can see only that you are French, since you are wearing one of +the highest honorary decorations of our country. You may have made the +same observation on your part," I added, indicating the slender red +ribbon which I wore on my vest.</p> + +<p>He looked at me in contemptuous surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, the Negro who just went out pronounced the name of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, the name of a brigand, a bandit, one of the +assassins of Colonel Flatters. Are you acquainted with that detail, sir?"</p> + +<p>The little man surveyed me coldly and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But what difference do you suppose that makes to me?"</p> + +<p>"What!" I cried, beside myself with rage. "Who are you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the little old man with comical dignity, turning to +Morhange, "I call you to witness the strange manners of your +companion. I am here in my own house and I do not allow...."</p> + +<p>"You must excuse my comrade, sir," said Morhange, stepping forward. +"He is not a man of letters, as you are. These young lieutenants are +hot-headed, you know. And besides, you can understand why both of us +are not as calm as might be desired."</p> + +<p>I was furious and on the point of disavowing these strangely humble +words of Morhange. But a glance showed me that there was as much irony +as surprise in his expression.</p> + +<p>"I know indeed that most officers are brutes," grumbled the little old +man. "But that is no reason...."</p> + +<p>"I am only an officer myself," Morhange went on, in an even humbler +tone, "and if ever I have been sensible to the intellectual +inferiority of that class, I assure you that it was now in glancing—I +beg your pardon for having taken the liberty to do so—in glancing +over the learned pages which you devote to the passionate story of +Medusa, according to Procles of Carthage, cited by Pausanias."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 78 -->A laughable surprise spread over the features of the little old man. +He hastily wiped his spectacles.</p> + +<p>"What!" he finally cried.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed unfortunate, in this matter," Morhange continued +imperturbably, "that we are not in possession of the curious +dissertation devoted to this burning question by Statius Sebosus, a +work which we know only through Pliny and which...."</p> + +<p>"You know Statius Sebosus?"</p> + +<p>"And which, my master, the geographer Berlioux...."</p> + +<p>"You knew Berlioux—you were his pupil?" stammered the little man with +the decoration.</p> + +<p>"I have had that honor," replied Morhange, very coldly.</p> + +<p>"But, but, sir, then you have heard mentioned, you are familiar with +the question, the problem of Atlantis?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois +de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly.</p> + +<p>"My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. +"Sir—Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...."</p> + +<p>Just then, the portiére was raised. Ferradji appeared again.</p> + +<p>"Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin without you."</p> + +<p>"I am coming, I am coming. Say, Ferradji, that we will be there in a +moment. Why, sir, if I had foreseen ... It is extraordinary ... to +find an officer who knows Procles of Carthage and Arbois de +Jubainville. Again ... But I must introduce myself. I am Etienne Le +Mesge, Fellow of the University."</p> + +<p>"Captain Morhange," said my companion.</p> + +<p>I stepped forward in my turn.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit. It is a fact, sir, that I am very likely to +confuse Arbois of Carthage with Procles de Jubainville. Later, I shall +have to see about filling up those gaps. But just now, I should like +to know where we are, if we are free, and if not, what occult power +holds us. You have the appearance, sir, of being sufficiently at home +in this house to be able to enlighten us upon this point, which I must +confess, I weakly consider of the first importance."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 79 -->M. Le Mesge looked at me. A rather malevolent smile twitched the +corners of his mouth. He opened his lips....</p> + +<p>A gong sounded impatiently.</p> + +<p>"In good time, gentlemen, I will tell you. I will explain +everything.... But now you see that we must hurry. It is time for +lunch and our fellow diners will get tired of waiting."</p> + +<p>"Our fellow diners?"</p> + +<p>"There are two of them," M. Le Mesge explained. "We three constitute +the European personnel of the house, that is, the fixed personnel," he +seemed to feel obliged to add, with his disquieting smile. "Two +strange fellows, gentlemen, with whom, doubtless, you will care to +have as little to do as possible. One is a churchman, narrow-minded, +though a Protestant. The other is a man of the world gone astray, an old fool."</p> + +<p>"Pardon," I said, "but it must have been he whom I heard last night. +He was gambling: with you and the minister, doubtless?"</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge made a gesture of offended dignity.</p> + +<p>"The idea! With me, sir? It is with the Tuareg that he plays. He +teaches them every game imaginable. There, that is he who is striking +the gong to hurry us up. It is half past nine, and the <i>Salle de +Trente et Quarante</i> opens at ten o'clock. Let us hurry. I suppose that +anyway you will not be averse to a little refreshment."</p> + +<p>"Indeed we shall not refuse," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>We followed M. Le Mesge along a long winding corridor with frequent +steps. The passage was dark. But at intervals rose-colored night +lights and incense burners were placed in niches cut into the solid +rock. The passionate Oriental scents perfumed the darkness and +contrasted strangely with the cold air of the snowy peaks.</p> + +<p>From time to time, a white Targa, mute and expressionless as a +phantom, would pass us and we would hear the clatter of his slippers +die away behind us.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stopped before a heavy door covered with the same pale +metal which I had noticed on the walls of the library. He opened it +and stood aside to let us pass.</p> + +<p>Although the dining room which we entered had little in <!-- Page 80 -->common with +European dining rooms, I have known many which might have envied its +comfort. Like the library, it was lighted by a great window. But I +noticed that it had an outside exposure, while that of the library +overlooked the garden in the center of the crown of mountains.</p> + +<p>No center table and none of those barbaric pieces of furniture that we +call chairs. But a great number of buffet tables of gilded wood, like +those of Venice, heavy hangings of dull and subdued colors, and +cushions, Tuareg or Tunisian. In the center was a huge mat on which a +feast was placed in finely woven baskets among silver pitchers and +copper basins filled with perfumed water. The sight of it filled me +with childish satisfaction.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stepped forward and introduced us to the two persons who +already had taken their places on the mat.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Spardek," he said; and by that simple phrase I understood how far +our host placed himself above vain human titles.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Mr. Spardek, of Manchester, bowed reservedly and asked +our permission to keep on his tall, wide-brimmed hat. He was a dry, +cold man, tall and thin. He ate in pious sadness, enormously.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Bielowsky," said M. Le Mesge, introducing us to the second guest.</p> + +<p>"Count Casimir Bielowsky, Hetman of Jitomir," the latter corrected +with perfect good humor as he stood up to shake hands.</p> + +<p>I felt at once a certain liking for the Hetman of Jitomir who was a +perfect example of an old beau. His chocolate-colored hair was parted +in the center (later I found out that the Hetman dyed it with a +concoction of <i>khol</i>). He had magnificent whiskers, also +chocolate-colored, in the style of the Emperor Francis Joseph. His +nose was undeniably a little red, but so fine, so aristocratic. His +hands were marvelous. It took some thought to place the date of the +style of the count's costume, bottle green with yellow facings, +ornamented with a huge seal of silver and enamel. The recollection of +a portrait of the Duke de Morny made me decide on 1860 or 1862; and +the further chapters of this story will show that I was not far wrong.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 81 -->The count made me sit down beside him. One of his first questions was +to demand if I ever cut fives.<a name="FNanchor_J_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_9"><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"That depends on how I feel," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Well said. I have not done so since 1866. I swore off. A row. The +devil of a party. One day at Walewski's. I cut fives. Naturally I +wasn't worrying any. The other had a four. 'Idiot!' cried the little +Baron de Chaux Gisseux who was laying staggering sums on my table. I +hurled a bottle of champagne at his head. He ducked. It was Marshal +Baillant who got the bottle. A scene! The matter was fixed up because +we were both Free Masons. The Emperor made me promise not to cut fives +again. I have kept my promise not to cut fives again. I have kept my +promise. But there are moments when it is hard...."</p> + +<p>He added in a voice steeped in melancholy:</p> + +<p>"Try a little of this Ahaggar 1880. Excellent vintage. It is I, +Lieutenant, who instructed these people in the uses of the juice of +the vine. The vine of the palm trees is very good when it is properly +fermented, but it gets insipid in the long run."</p> + +<p>It was powerful, that Ahaggar 1880. We sipped it from large silver +goblets. It was fresh as Rhine wine, dry as the wine of the Hermitage. +And then, suddenly, it brought back recollections of the burning wines +of Portugal; it seemed sweet, fruity, an admirable wine, I tell you.</p> + +<p>That wine crowned the most perfect of luncheons. There were few meats, +to be sure; but those few were remarkably seasoned. Profusion of +cakes, pancakes served with honey, fragrant fritters, cheese-cakes of +sour milk and dates. And everywhere, in great enamel platters or +wicker jars, fruit, masses of fruit, figs, dates, pistachios, jujubes, +pomegranates, apricots, huge bunches of grapes, larger than those +which bent the shoulders of the Hebrews in the land of Canaan, heavy +watermelons cut in two, showing their moist, red pulp and their rows +of black seeds.</p> + +<p>I had scarcely finished one of these beautiful iced fruits, when M. Le +Mesge rose.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 82 -->Gentlemen, if you are ready," he said to Morhange and me.</p> + +<p>"Get away from that old dotard as soon as you can," whispered the +Hetman of Jitomir to me. "The party of <i>Trente et Quarante</i> will begin +soon. You shall see. You shall see. We go it even harder than at Cora +Pearl's."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," repeated M. Le Mesge in his dry tone.</p> + +<p>We followed him. When the three of us were back again in the library, +he said, addressing me:</p> + +<p>"You, sir, asked a little while ago what occult power holds you here. +Your manner was threatening, and I should have refused to comply had +it not been for your friend, whose knowledge enables him to appreciate +better than you the value of the revelations I am about to make to you."</p> + +<p>He touched a spring in the side of the wall. A cupboard appeared, +stuffed with books. He took one.</p> + +<p>"You are both of you," continued M. Le Mesge, "in the power of a +woman. This woman, the sultaness, the queen, the absolute sovereign of +Ahaggar, is called Antinea. Don't start, M. Morhange, you will soon understand."</p> + +<p>He opened the book and read this sentence:</p> + +<p>"'I must warn you before I take up the subject matter: do not be +surprised to hear me call the barbarians by Greek names.'"</p> + +<p>"What is that book?" stammered Morhange, whose pallor terrified me.</p> + +<p>"This book," M. Le Mesge replied very slowly, weighing his words, with +an extraordinary expression of triumph, "is the greatest, the most +beautiful, the most secret, of the dialogues of Plato; it is the +Critias of Atlantis."</p> + +<p>"The Critias? But it is unfinished," murmured Morhange.</p> + +<p>"It is unfinished in France, in Europe, everywhere else," said M. Le +Mesge, "but it is finished here. Look for yourself at this copy."</p> + +<p>"But what connection," repeated Morhange, while his eyes traveled +avidly over the pages, "what connection can there be between this +dialogue, complete,—yes, it seems to me complete—what connection +with this woman, Antinea? Why should it be in her possession?"</p> + +<!-- Page 83 --> +<p>"Because," replied the little man imperturbably, "this book is her +patent of nobility, her <i>Almanach de Gotha</i>, in a sense, do you +understand? Because it established her prodigious genealogy: because she is...."</p> + +<p>"Because she is?" repeated Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Because she is the grand daughter of Neptune, the last descendant of +the Atlantides."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="IX"><!-- Chapter 9 --></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>ATLANTIS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge looked at Morhange triumphantly. It was evident that he +addressed himself exclusively to Morhange, considering him alone +worthy of his confidences.</p> + +<p>"There have been many, sir," he said, "both French and foreign +officers who have been brought here at the caprice of our sovereign, +Antinea. You are the first to be honored by my disclosures. But you +were the pupil of Berlioux, and I owe so much to the memory of that +great man that it seems to me I may do him homage by imparting to one +of his disciples the unique results of my private research."</p> + +<p>He struck the bell. Ferradji appeared.</p> + +<p>"Coffee for these gentlemen," ordered M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He handed us a box, gorgeously decorated in the most flaming colors, +full of Egyptian cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"I never smoke," he explained. "But Antinea sometimes comes here. +These are her cigarettes. Help yourselves, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>I have always had a horror of that pale tobacco which gives a barber +of the Rue de la Michodière the illusion of oriental voluptuousness. +But, in their way, these musk-scented cigarettes were not bad, and it +was a long time since I had used up my stock of Caporal.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 84 -->Here are the back numbers of <i>Le Vie Parisienne</i>" said M. Le Mesge +to me. "Amuse yourself with them, if you like, while I talk to your friend."</p> + +<p>"Sir," I replied brusquely, "it is true that I never studied with +Berlioux. Nevertheless, you must allow me to listen to your +conversation: I shall hope to find something in it to amuse me."</p> + +<p>"As you wish," said the little old man.</p> + +<p>We settled ourselves comfortably. M. Le Mesge sat down before the +desk, shot his cuffs, and commenced as follows:</p> + +<p>"However much, gentlemen, I prize complete objectivity in matters of +erudition, I cannot utterly detach my own history from that of the +last descendant of Clito and Neptune.</p> + +<p>"I am the creation of my own efforts. From my childhood, the +prodigious impulse given to the science of history by the nineteenth +century has affected me. I saw where my way led. I have followed it, +in spite of everything.</p> + +<p>"In spite of everything, everything—I mean it literally. With no +other resources than my own work and merit, I was received as Fellow +of History and Geography at the examination of 1880. A great +examination! Among the thirteen who were accepted there were names +which have since become illustrious: Julian, Bourgeois, Auerbach.... I +do not envy my colleagues on the summits of their official honors; I +read their works with commiseration; and the pitiful errors to which +they are condemned by the insufficiency of their documents would amply +counterbalance my chagrin and fill me with ironic joy, had I not been +raised long since above the satisfaction of self-love.</p> + +<p>"When I was Professor at the Lycée du Parc at Lyons. I knew Berlioux +and followed eagerly his works on African History. I had, at that +time, a very original idea for my doctor's thesis. I was going to +establish a parallel between the Berber heroine of the seventh +century, who struggled against the Arab invader, Kahena, and the +French heroine, Joan of Arc, who struggled against the English +invader. I proposed to the <i>Faculté des Lettres</i> at Paris this title +for my thesis: <i>Joan of Arc and the Tuareg</i>. This simple announcement +gave rise to a perfect outcry in learned circles, a furor of +<!-- Page 85 -->ridicule. My friends warned me discreetly. I refused to believe them. +Finally I was forced to believe when my rector summoned me before him +and, after manifesting an astonishing interest in my health, asked +whether I should object to taking two years' leave on half pay. I +refused indignantly. The rector did not insist; but fifteen days +later, a ministerial decree, with no other legal procedure, assigned +me to one of the most insignificant and remote Lycées of France, at +Mont-de-Marsan.</p> + +<p>"Realize my exasperation and you will excuse the excesses to which I +delivered myself in that strange country. What is there to do in +Landes, if you neither eat nor drink? I did both violently. My pay +melted away in <i>fois gras</i>, in woodcocks, in fine wines. The result +came quickly enough: in less than a year my joints began to crack like +the over-oiled axle of a bicycle that has gone a long way upon a dusty +track. A sharp attack of gout nailed me to my bed. Fortunately, in +that blessed country, the cure is in reach of the suffering. So I +departed to Dax, at vacation time, to try the waters.</p> + +<p>"I rented a room on the bank of the Adour, overlooking the <i>Promenade +des Baignots</i>. A charwoman took care of it for me. She worked also for +an old gentleman, a retired Examining Magistrate, President of the +Roger-Ducos Society, which was a vague scientific backwater, in which +the scholars of the neighborhood applied themselves with prodigious +incompetence to the most whimsical subjects. One afternoon I stayed in +my room on account of a very heavy rain. The good woman was +energetically polishing the copper latch of my door. She used a paste +called Tripoli, which she spread upon a paper and rubbed and +rubbed.... The peculiar appearance of the paper made me curious. I +glanced at it. 'Great heavens! Where did you get this paper?' She was +perturbed. 'At my master's; he has lots of it. I tore this out of a +notebook.' 'Here are ten francs. Go and get me the notebook.'</p> + +<p>"A quarter of an hour later, she was back with it. By good luck it +lacked only one page, the one with which she had been polishing my +door. This manuscript, this notebook, have you any idea what it was? +Merely the <i>Voyage to Atlantis</i> <!-- Page 86 -->of the mythologist Denis de Milet, +which is mentioned by Diodorus and the loss of which I had so often +heard Berlioux deplore.<a name="FNanchor_K_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_10"><sup>[10]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"This inestimable document contained numerous quotations from the +Critias. It gave an abstract of the illustrious dialogue, the sole +existing copy of which you held in your hands a little while ago. It +established past controversy the location of the stronghold of the +Atlantides, and demonstrated that this site, which is denied by +science, was not submerged by the waves, as is supposed by the rare +and timorous defenders of the Atlantide hypothesis. He called it the +'central Mazycian range,' You know there is no longer any doubt as to +the identification of the Mazyces of Herodotus with the people of +Imoschaoch, the Tuareg. But the manuscript of Denys unquestionably +identifies the historical Mazyces with the Atlantides of the supposed legend.</p> + +<p>"I learned, therefore, from Denys, not only that the central part of +Atlantis, the cradle and home of the dynasty of Neptune, had not sunk +in the disaster described by Plato as engulfing the rest of the +Atlantide isle, but also that it corresponded to the Tuareg Ahaggar, +and that, in this Ahaggar, at least in his time, the noble dynasty of +Neptune was supposed to be still existent.</p> + +<p>"The historians of Atlantis put the date of the cataclysm which +destroyed all or part of that famous country at nine thousand years +before Christ. If Denis de Milet, who wrote scarcely three thousand +years ago, believed that in his time, the dynastic issue of Neptune +was still ruling its dominion, you will understand that I thought +immediately—what has lasted nine thousand years may last eleven +thousand. From that instant I had only one aim: to find the possible +descendants of the Atlantides, and, since I had many reasons for +supposing them to be debased and ignorant of their original splendor, +to inform them of their illustrious descent.</p> +<!-- Page 87 --> + +<p>"You will easily understand that I imparted none of my intentions to +my superiors at the University. To solicit their approval or even +their permission, considering the attitude they had taken toward me, +would have been almost certainly to invite confinement in a cell. So I +raised what I could on my own account, and departed without trumpet or +drum for Oran. On the first of October I reached In-Salah. Stretched +at my ease beneath a palm tree, at the oasis, I took infinite pleasure +in considering how, that very day, the principal of Mont-de-Marsan, +beside himself, struggling to control twenty horrible urchins howling +before the door of an empty class room, would be telegraphing wildly +in all directions in search of his lost history professor."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge stopped and looked at us to mark his satisfaction.</p> + +<p>I admit that I forgot my dignity and I forgot the affectation he had +steadily assumed of talking only to Morhange.</p> + +<p>"You will pardon me, sir, if your discourse interests me more than I +had anticipated. But you know very well that I lack the fundamental +instruction necessary to understand you. You speak of the dynasty of +Neptune. What is this dynasty, from which, I believe, you trace the +descent of Antinea? What is her rôle in the story of Atlantis?"</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge smiled with condescension, meantime winking at Morhange +with the eye nearest to him. Morhange was listening without +expression, without a word, chin in hand, elbow on knee.</p> + +<p>"Plato will answer for me, sir," said the Professor.</p> + +<p>And he added, with an accent of inexpressible pity:</p> + +<p>"Is it really possible that you have never made the acquaintance of +the introduction to the Critias?"</p> + +<p>He placed on the table the book by which Morhange had been so +strangely moved. He adjusted his spectacles and began to read. It +seemed as if the magic of Plato vibrated through and transfigured this +ridiculous little old man.</p> + +<p>"'Having drawn by lot the different parts of the earth, the gods +obtained, some a larger, and some, a smaller share. It was thus that +Neptune, having received in the division the isle of Atlantis, came to +place the children he had had <!-- Page 88 -->by a mortal in one part of that isle. +It was not far from the sea, a plain situated in the midst of the +isle, the most beautiful, and, they say, the most fertile of plains. +About fifty stades from that plain, in the middle of the isle, was a +mountain. There dwelt one of those men who, in the very beginning, was +born of the Earth, Evenor, with his wife, Leucippe. They had only one +daughter, Clito. She was marriageable when her mother and father died, +and Neptune, being enamored of her, married her. Neptune fortified the +mountain where she dwelt by isolating it. He made alternate girdles of +sea and land, the one smaller, the others greater, two of earth and +three of water, and centered them round the isle in such a manner that +they were at all parts equally distant!..."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge broke off his reading.</p> + +<p>"Does this arrangement recall nothing to you?" he queried.</p> + +<p>"Morhange, Morhange!" I stammered. "You remember—our route yesterday, +our abduction, the two corridors that we had to cross before arriving +at this mountain?... The girdles of earth and of water?... Two +tunnels, two enclosures of earth?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha!" chuckled M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He smiled as he looked at me. I understood that this smile meant: "Can +he be less obtuse than I had supposed?"</p> + +<p>As if with a mighty effort, Morhange broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"I understand well enough, I understand.... The three girdles of +water.... But then, you are supposing, sir,—an explanation the +ingeniousness of which I do not contest—you are supposing the exact +hypothesis of the Saharan sea!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it, and I can prove it," replied the irascible little old +chap, banging his fist on the table. "I know well enough what Schirmer +and the rest have advanced against it. I know it better than you do. I +know all about it, sir. I can present all the proofs for your +consideration. And in the meantime, this evening at dinner, you will +no doubt enjoy some excellent fish. And you will tell me if these +fish, caught in the lake that you can see from this window, seem to +you fresh water fish.</p> + +<p>"You must realize," he continued, "the mistake of those who, believing +in Atlantis, have sought to explain the cata<!-- Page 89 -->clysm in which they +suppose the island to have sunk. Without exception, they have thought +that it was swallowed up. Actually, there has not been an immersion. +There has been an emersion. New lands have emerged from the Atlantic +wave. The desert has replaced the sea, the <i>sebkhas</i>, the salt lakes, +the Triton lakes, the sandy Syrtes are the desolate vestiges of the +free sea water over which, in former days, the fleets swept with a +fair wind towards the conquest of Attica. Sand swallows up +civilization better than water. To-day there remains nothing of the +beautiful isle that the sea and winds kept gay and verdant but this +chalky mass. Nothing has endured in this rocky basin, cut off forever +from the living world, but the marvelous oasis that you have at your +feet, these red fruits, this cascade, this blue lake, sacred witnesses +to the golden age that is gone. Last evening, in coming here, you had +to cross the five enclosures: the three belts of water, dry forever; +the two girdles of earth through which are hollowed the passages you +traversed on camel back, where, formerly, the triremes floated. The +only thing that, in this immense catastrophe, has preserved its +likeness to its former state, is this mountain, the mountain where +Neptune shut up his well-beloved Clito, the daughter of Evenor and +Leucippe, the mother of Atlas, and the ancestress of Antinea, the +sovereign under whose dominion you are about to enter forever."</p> + +<p>"Sir," Morhange with the most exquisite courtesy, "it would be only a +natural anxiety which would urge us to inquire the reasons and the end +of this dominion. But behold to what extent your revelation interests +me; I defer this question of private interest. Of late, in two +caverns, it has been my fortune to discover Tifinar inscriptions of +this name, Antinea. My comrade is witness that I took it for a Greek +name. I understand now, thanks to you and the divine Plato, that I +need no longer feel surprised to hear a barbarian called by a Greek +name. But I am no less perplexed as to the etymology of the word. Can +you enlighten me?"</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not fail you there, sir," said M. Le Mesge. "I may +tell you, too, that you are not the first to put to me that question. +Most of the explorers that I have seen enter here in the past ten +years have been attracted in the <!-- Page 90 -->same way, intrigued by this Greek +work reproduced in Tifinar. I have even arranged a fairly exact +catalogue of these inscriptions and the caverns where they are to be +met with. All, or almost all, are accompanied by this legend: +<i>Antinea. Here commences her domain</i>. I myself have had repainted with +ochre such as were beginning to be effaced. But, to return to what I +was telling you before, none of the Europeans who have followed this +epigraphic mystery here, have kept their anxiety to solve this +etymology once they found themselves in Antinea's palace. They all +become otherwise preoccupied. I might make many disclosures as to the +little real importance which purely scientific interests possess even +for scholars, and the quickness with which they sacrifice them to the +most mundane considerations—their own lives, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Let us take that up another time, sir, if it is satisfactory to you," +said Morhange, always admirably polite.</p> + +<p>"This digression had only one point, sir: to show you that I do not +count you among these unworthy scholars. You are really eager to know +the origin of this name, <i>Antinea</i>, and that before knowing what kind +of woman it belongs to and her motives for holding you and this +gentleman as her prisoners."</p> + +<p>I stared hard at the little old man. But he spoke with profound +seriousness.</p> + +<p>"So much the better for you, my boy," I thought. "Otherwise it +wouldn't have taken me long to send you through the window to air your +ironies at your ease. The law of gravity ought not to be topsy-turvy +here at Ahaggar."</p> + +<p>"You, no doubt, formulated several hypotheses when you first +encountered the name, Antinea," continued M. Le Mesge, imperturbable +under my fixed gaze, addressing himself to Morhange. "Would you object +to repeating them to me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, sir," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>And, very composedly, he enumerated the etymological suggestions I +have given previously.</p> + +<p>The little man with the cherry-colored shirt front rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>"Very good," he admitted with an accent of intense jubilation. +"Amazingly good, at least for one with only the <!-- Page 91 -->modicum of Greek that +you possess. But it is all none the less false, super-false."</p> + +<p>"It is because I suspected as much that I put my question to you," +said Morhange blandly.</p> + +<p>"I will not keep you longer in suspense," said M. Le Mesge. "The word, +Antinea, is composed as follows: <i>ti</i> is nothing but a Tifinar +addition to an essentially Greek name. <i>Ti</i> is the Berber feminine +article. We have several examples of this combination. Take <i>Tipasa</i>, +the North African town. The name means the whole, from <i>ti</i> and from +<img src="images/tfnr91_1.gif" width="83" height="29" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. So, <i>tinea</i> signifies the new, from <i>ti</i> and from +<img src="images/tfnr91_2.gif" width="49" height="25" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +."</p> + +<p>"And the prefix, <i>an</i>?" queried Morhang.</p> + +<p>"Is it possible, sir, that I have put myself to the trouble of talking +to you for a solid hour about the Critias with such trifling effect? +It is certain that the prefix <i>an</i>, alone, has no meaning. You will +understand that it has one, when I tell you that we have here a very +curious case of apocope. You must not read <i>an</i>; you must read +<i>atlan</i>. <i>Atl</i> has been lost, by apocope; <i>an</i> has survived. To sum +up, Antinea is composed in the following manner: +<img src="images/tfnr91_3.gif" width="135" height="28" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +— +<img src="images/tfnr91_4.gif" width="126" height="36" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. And its meaning, <i>the new Atlantis</i>, is dazzlingly apparent from this demonstration."</p> + +<p>I looked at Morhange. His astonishment was without bounds. The Berber +prefix <i>ti</i> had literally stunned him.</p> + +<p>"Have you had occasion, sir, to verify this very ingenious etymology?" +he was finally able to gasp out.</p> + +<p>"You have only to glance over these few books," said M. Le Mesge +disdainfully.</p> + +<p>He opened successively five, ten, twenty cupboards. An enormous +library was spread out to our view.</p> + +<p>"Everything, everything—it is all here," murmured Morhange, with an +astonishing inflection of terror and admiration.</p> + +<p>"Everything that is worth consulting, at any rate," said M. Le Mesge. +"All the great books, whose loss the so-called learned world deplores +to-day."</p> + +<p>"And how has it happened?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, you distress me. I thought you familiar with certain events. You +are forgetting, then, the passage where Pliny the Elder speaks of the +library of Carthage and the treasures which were accumulated there? In +146, when that city fell <!-- Page 92 -->under the blows of the knave, Scipio, the +incredible collection of illiterates who bore the name of the Roman +Senate had only the profoundest contempt for these riches. They +presented them to the native kings. This is how Mantabal received this +priceless heritage; it was transmitted to his son and grandson, +Hiempsal, Juba I, Juba II, the husband of the admirable Cleopatra +Selene, the daughter of the great Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Cleopatra +Selene had a daughter who married an Atlantide king. This is how +Antinea, the daughter of Neptune, counts among her ancestors the +immortal queen of Egypt. That is how, by following the laws of +inheritance, the remains of the library of Carthage, enriched by the +remnants of the library of Alexandria, are actually before your eyes.</p> + +<p>"Science fled from man. While he was building those monstrous Babels +of pseudo-science in Berlin, London, Paris, Science was taking refuge +in this desert corner of Ahaggar. They may well forge their hypotheses +back there, based on the loss of the mysterious works of antiquity: +these works are not lost. They are here. They are here: the Hebrew, +the Chaldean, the Assyrian books. Here, the great Egyptian traditions +which inspired Solon, Herodotus and Plato. Here, the Greek +mythologists, the magicians of Roman Africa, the Indian mystics, all +the treasures, in a word, for the lack of which contemporary +dissertations are poor laughable things. Believe me, he is well +avenged, the little universitarian whom they took for a madman, whom +they defied. I have lived, I live, I shall live in a perpetual burst +of laughter at their false and garbled erudition. And when I shall be +dead, Error,—thanks to the jealous precaution of Neptune taken to +isolate his well-beloved Clito from the rest of the world,—Error, I +say, will continue to reign as sovereign mistress over their pitiful +compositions."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Morhange in grave voice, "you have just affirmed the +influence of Egypt on the civilizations of the people here. For +reasons which some day, perhaps, I shall have occasion to explain to +you, I would like to have proof of that relationship."</p> + +<p>"We need not wait for that, sir," said M. Le Mesge. Then, in my turn, +I advanced.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 93 -->Two words, if you please, sir," I said brutally. "I will not hide +from you that these historical discussions seem to me absolutely out +of place. It is not my fault if you have had trouble with the +University, and if you are not to-day at the College of France or +elsewhere. For the moment, just one thing concerns me: to know just +what this lady, Antinea, wants with us. My comrade would like to know +her relation with ancient Egypt: very well. For my part, I desire +above everything to know her relations with the government of Algeria +and the Arabian Bureau."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge gave a strident laugh.</p> + +<p>"I am going to give you an answer that will satisfy you both," he +replied.</p> + +<p>And he added:</p> + +<p>"Follow me. It is time that you should learn."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="X"><!-- Chapter 10 --></a>X</h2> + +<h3>THE RED MARBLE HALL</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>We passed through an interminable series of stairs and corridors +following M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>"You lose all sense of direction in this labyrinth," I muttered to +Morhange.</p> + +<p>"Worse still, you will lose your head," answered my companion <i>sotto +voce</i>. "This old fool is certainly very learned; but God knows what he +is driving at. However, he has promised that we are soon to know."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge had stopped before a heavy dark door, all incrusted with +strange symbols. Turning the lock with difficulty, he opened it.</p> + +<p>"Enter, gentlemen, I beg you," he said.</p> + +<p>A gust of cold air struck us full in the face. The room we were +entering was chill as a vault.</p> + +<p>At first, the darkness allowed me to form no idea of its proportions. +The lighting, purposely subdued, consisted of twelve enormous copper +lamps, placed column-like upon the ground and burning with brilliant +red flames. As we entered, <!-- Page 94 -->the wind from the corridor made the flames +flicker, momentarily casting about us our own enlarged and misshapen +shadows. Then the gust died down, and the flames, no longer flurried, +again licked up the darkness with their motionless red tongues.</p> + +<p>These twelve giant lamps (each one about ten feet high) were arranged +in a kind of crown, the diameter of which must have been about fifty +feet. In the center of this circle was a dark mass, all streaked with +trembling red reflections. When I drew nearer, I saw it was a bubbling +fountain. It was the freshness of this water which had maintained the +temperature of which I have spoken.</p> + +<p>Huge seats were cut in the central rock from which gushed the +murmuring, shadowy fountain. They were heaped with silky cushions. +Twelve incense burners, within the circle of red lamps, formed a +second crown, half as large in diameter. Their smoke mounted toward +the vault, invisible in the darkness, but their perfume, combined with +the coolness and sound of the water, banished from the soul all other +desire than to remain there forever.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge made us sit down in the center of the hall, on the +Cyclopean seats. He seated himself between us.</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes," he said, "your eyes will grow accustomed to the +obscurity."</p> + +<p>I noticed that he spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were in church.</p> + +<p>Little by little, our eyes did indeed grow used to the red light. Only +the lower part of the great hall was illuminated. The whole vault was +drowned in shadow and its height was impossible to estimate. Vaguely, +I could perceive overhead a great smooth gold chandelier, flecked, +like everything else, with sombre red reflections. But there was no +means of judging the length of the chain by which it hung from the +dark ceiling.</p> + +<p>The marble of the pavement was of so high a polish, that the great +torches were reflected even there.</p> + +<p>This room, I repeat, was round a perfect circle of which the fountain +at our backs was the center.</p> + +<p>We sat facing the curving walls. Before long, we began to be able to +see them. They were of peculiar construction, <!-- Page 95 -->divided into a series +of niches, broken, ahead of us, by the door which had just opened to +give us passage, behind us, by a second door, a still darker hole +which I divined in the darkness when I turned around. From one door to +the other, I counted sixty niches, making, in all, one hundred and +twenty. Each was about ten feet high. Each contained a kind of case, +larger above than below, closed only at the lower end. In all these +cases, except two just opposite me, I thought I could discern a +brilliant shape, a human shape certainly, something like a statue of +very pale bronze. In the arc of the circle before me, I counted +clearly thirty of these strange statues.</p> + +<p>What were these statues? I wanted to see. I rose.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge put his hand on my arm.</p> + +<p>"In good time," he murmured in the same low voice, "all in good time."</p> + +<p>The Professor was watching the door by which we had entered the hall, +and from behind which we could hear the sound of footsteps becoming +more and more distinct.</p> + +<p>It opened quietly to admit three Tuareg slaves. Two of them were +carrying a long package on their shoulders; the third seemed to be +their chief.</p> + +<p>At a sign from him, they placed the package on the ground and drew out +from one of the niches the case which it contained.</p> + +<p>"You may approach, gentlemen," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>He motioned the three Tuareg to withdraw several paces.</p> + +<p>"You asked me, not long since, for some proof of the Egyptian +influence on this country," said M. Le Mesge. "What do you say to that +case, to begin with?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he pointed to the case that the servants had deposited +upon the ground after they took it from its niche.</p> + +<p>Morhange uttered a thick cry.</p> + +<p>We had before us one of those cases designed for the preservation of +mummies. The same shiny wood, the same bright decorations, the only +difference being that here Tifinar writing replaced the hieroglyphics. +The form, narrow at the base, broader above, ought to have been enough +to enlighten us.</p> + +<p>I have already said that the lower half of this large case <!-- Page 96 -->was +closed, giving the whole structure the appearance of a rectangular +wooden shoe.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge knelt and fastened on the lower part of the case, a square +of white cardboard, a large label, that he had picked up from his +desk, a few minutes before, on leaving the library.</p> + +<p>"You may read," he said simply, but still in the same low tone.</p> + +<p>I knelt also, for the light of the great candelabra was scarcely +sufficient to read the label where, none the less, I recognized the +Professor's handwriting.</p> + +<p>It bore these few words, in a large round hand:</p> + +<p>"Number 53. Major Sir Archibald Russell. Born at Richmond, July 5, +1860. Died at Ahaggar, December 3, 1896."</p> + +<p>I leapt to my feet.</p> + +<p>"Major Russell!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not so loud, not so loud," said M. Le Mesge. "No one speaks out loud +here."</p> + +<p>"The Major Russell," I repeated, obeying his injunction as if in spite +of myself, "who left Khartoum last year, to explore Sokoto?"</p> + +<p>"The same," replied the Professor.</p> + +<p>"And ... where is Major Russell?"</p> + +<p>"He is there," replied M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>The Professor made a gesture. The Tuareg approached.</p> + +<p>A poignant silence reigned in the mysterious hall, broken only by the +fresh splashing of the fountain.</p> + +<p>The three Negroes were occupied in undoing the package that they had +put down near the painted case. Weighed down with wordless horror, +Morhange and I stood watching.</p> + +<p>Soon, a rigid form, a human form, appeared. A red gleam played over +it. We had before us, stretched out upon the ground, a statue of pale +bronze, wrapped in a kind of white veil, a statue like those all +around us, upright in their niches. It seemed to fix us with an +impenetrable gaze.</p> + +<p>"Sir Archibald Russell," murmured M. Le Mesge slowly.</p> + +<p>Morhange approached, speechless, but strong enough to lift up the +white veil. For a long, long time he gazed at the sad bronze statue.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 97 -->A mummy, a mummy?" he said finally. "You deceive yourself, sir, this +is no mummy."</p> + +<p>"Accurately speaking, no," replied M. Le Mesge. "This is not a mummy. +None the less, you have before you the mortal remains of Sir Archibald +Russell. I must point out to you, here, my dear sir, that the +processes of embalming used by Antinea differ from the processes +employed in ancient Egypt. Here, there is no natron, nor bands, nor +spices. The industry of Ahaggar, in a single effort, has achieved a +result obtained by European science only after long experiments. +Imagine my surprise, when I arrived here and found that they were +employing a method I supposed known only to the civilized world."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge struck a light tap with his finger on the forehead of Sir +Archibald Russell. It rang like metal.</p> + +<p>"It is bronze," I said. "That is not a human forehead: it is bronze."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It is a human forehead," he affirmed curtly, "and not bronze. Bronze +is darker, sir. This is the great unknown metal of which Plato speaks +in the Critias, and which is something between gold and silver: it is +the special metal of the mountains of the Atlantides. It is +<i>orichalch</i>."</p> + +<p>Bending again, I satisfied myself that this metal was the same as that +with which the walls of the library were overcast.</p> + +<p>"It is orichalch," continued M. Le Mesge. "You look as if you had no +idea how a human body can look like a statue of orichalch. Come, +Captain Morhange, you whom I gave credit for a certain amount of +knowledge, have you never heard of the method of Dr. Variot, by which +a human body can be preserved without embalming? Have you never read +the book of that practitioner?<a name="FNanchor_L_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_11"><sup>[11]</sup></a> +He explains a method called electro-plating. The skin is coated with a very thin layer of silver +salts, to make it a conductor. The body then is placed in a solution, +of copper sulphate, and the polar currents do their work. The body of +this estimable English major has been <!-- Page 98 -->metalized in the same manner, +except that a solution of orichalch sulphate, a very rare substance, +has been substituted for that of copper sulphate. Thus, instead of the +statue of a poor slave, a copper statue, you have before you a statue +of metal more precious than silver or gold, in a word, a statue worthy +of the granddaughter of Neptune."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge waved his arm. The black slaves seized the body. In a few +seconds, they slid the orichalch ghost into its painted wooden sheath. +That was set on end and slid into its niche, beside the niche where an +exactly similar sheath was labelled "Number 52."</p> + +<p>Upon finishing their task, they retired without a word. A draught of +cold air from the door again made the flames of the copper torches +flicker and threw great shadows about us.</p> + +<p>Morhange and I remained as motionless as the pale metal specters which +surrounded us. Suddenly I pulled myself together and staggered forward +to the niche beside that in which they just had laid the remains of +the English major. I looked for the label.</p> + +<p>Supporting myself against the red marble wall, I read:</p> + +<p>"Number 52. Captain Laurent Deligne. Born at Paris, July 22, 1861. +Died at Ahaggar, October 30, 1896."</p> + +<p>"Captain Deligne!" murmured Morhange. "He left Colomb-Béchar in 1895 +for Timmimoun and no more has been heard of him since then."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge, with a little nod of approval.</p> + +<p>"Number 51," read Morhange with chattering teeth. "Colonel von +Wittman, born at Jena in 1855. Died at Ahaggar, May 1, 1896.... +Colonel Wittman, the explorer of Kanem, who disappeared off Agadès."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again.</p> + +<p>"Number 50," I read in my turn, steadying myself against the wall, so +as not to fall. "Marquis Alonzo d'Oliveira, born at Cadiz, February +21, 1868. Died at Ahaggar, February 1, 1896. Oliveira, who was going +to Araouan."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. "That Spaniard was one of the best +educated. I used to have interesting discussions with him on the exact +geographical position of the kingdom of Antée."</p> + +<p>"Number 49," said Morhange in a tone scarcely more than <!-- Page 99 -->a whisper. +"Lieutenant Woodhouse, born at Liverpool, September 16, 1870. Died at +Ahaggar, October 4, 1895."</p> + +<p>"Hardly more than a child," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>"Number 48," I said. "Lieutenant Louis de Maillefeu, born at Provins, +the...."</p> + +<p>I did not finish. My voice choked.</p> + +<p>Louis de Maillefeu, my best friend, the friend of my childhood and of +Saint-Cyr.... I looked at him and recognized him under the metallic +coating. Louis de Maillefeu!</p> + +<p>I laid my forehead against the cold wall and, with shaking shoulders, +began to sob.</p> + +<p>I heard the muffled voice of Morhange speaking to the Professor:</p> + +<p>"Sir, this has lasted long enough. Let us make an end of it."</p> + +<p>"He wanted to know," said M. Le Mesge. "What am I to do?"</p> + +<p>I went up to him and seized his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What happened to him? What did he die of?"</p> + +<p>"Just like the others," the Professor replied, "just like Lieutenant +Woodhouse, like Captain Deligne, like Major Russell, like Colonel von +Wittman, like the forty-seven of yesterday and all those of +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Of what did they die?" Morhange demanded imperatively in his turn.</p> + +<p>The Professor looked at Morhange. I saw my comrade grow pale.</p> + +<p>"Of what did they die, sir? <i>They died of love</i>."</p> + +<p>And he added in a very low, very grave voice:</p> + +<p>"Now you know."</p> + +<p>Gently and with a tact which we should hardly have suspected in him, +M. Le Mesge drew us away from the statues. A moment later, Morhange +and I found ourselves again seated, or rather sunk among the cushions +in the center of the room. The invisible fountain murmured its plaint +at our feet.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge sat between us.</p> + +<p>"Now you know," he repeated. "You know, but you do not yet +understand."</p> + +<p>Then, very slowly, he said:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 100 -->You are, as they have been, the prisoners of Antinea. And vengeance +is due Antinea."</p> + +<p>"Vengeance?" said Morhange, who had regained his self-possession. "For +what, I beg to ask? What have the lieutenant and I done to Atlantis? +How have we incurred her hatred?"</p> + +<p>"It is an old quarrel, a very old quarrel," the Professor replied +gravely. "A quarrel which long antedates you, M. Morhange."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself, I beg of you, Professor."</p> + +<p>"You are Man. She is a Woman," said the dreamy voice of M. Le Mesge. +"The whole matter lies there."</p> + +<p>"Really, sir, I do not see ... we do not see."</p> + +<p>"You are going to understand. Have you really forgotten to what an +extent the beautiful queens of antiquity had just cause to complain of +the strangers whom fortune brought to their borders? The poet, Victor +Hugo, pictured their detestable acts well enough in his colonial poem +called <i>la Fille d'O-Taiti</i>. Wherever we look, we see similar examples +of fraud and ingratitude. These gentlemen made free use of the beauty +and the riches of the lady. Then, one fine morning, they disappeared. +She was indeed lucky if her lover, having observed the position +carefully, did not return with ships and troops of occupation."</p> + +<p>"Your learning charms me," said Morhange. "Continue."</p> + +<p>"Do you need examples? Alas! they abound. Think of the cavalier +fashion in which Ulysses treated Calypso, Diomedes Callirhoë. What +should I say of Theseus and Ariadne? Jason treated Medea with +inconceivable lightness. The Romans continued the tradition with still +greater brutality. Aenaeus, who has many characteristics in common +with the Reverend Spardek, treated Dido in a most undeserved fashion. +Caesar was a laurel-crowned blackguard in his relations with the +divine Cleopatra. Titus, that hypocrite Titus, after having lived a +whole year in Idummea at the expense of the plaintive Berenice, took +her back to Rome only to make game of her. It is time that the sons of +Japhet paid this formidable reckoning of injuries to the daughters of +Shem.</p> + +<p>"A woman has taken it upon herself to re-establish the great Hegelian +law of equilibrium for the benefit of her sex. <!-- Page 101 -->Separated from the +Aryan world by the formidable precautions of Neptune, she draws the +youngest and bravest to her. Her body is condescending, while her +spirit is inexorable. She takes what these bold young men can give +her. She lends them her body, while her soul dominates them. She is +the first sovereign who has never been made the slave of passion, even +for a moment. She has never been obliged to regain her self-mastery, +for she never has lost it. She is the only woman who has been able to +disassociate those two inextricable things, love and voluptuousness."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge paused a moment and then went on.</p> + +<p>"Once every day, she comes to this vault. She stops before the niches; +she meditates before the rigid statues; she touches the cold bosoms, +so burning when she knew them. Then, after dreaming before the empty +niche where the next victim soon will sleep his eternal sleep in a +cold case of orichalch, she returns nonchalantly where he is waiting +for her."</p> + +<p>The Professor stopped speaking. The fountain again made itself heard +in the midst of the shadow. My pulses beat, my head seemed on fire. A +fever was consuming me.</p> + +<p>"And all of them," I cried, regardless of the place, "all of them +complied! They submitted! Well, she has only to come and she will see +what will happen."</p> + +<p>Morhange was silent.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," said M. Le Mesge in a very gentle voice, "you are +speaking like a child. You do not know. You have not seen Antinea. Let +me tell you one thing: that among those"—and with a sweeping gesture +he indicated the silent circle of statues—"there were men as +courageous as you and perhaps less excitable. I remember one of them +especially well, a phlegmatic Englishman who now is resting under +Number 32. When he first appeared before Antinea, he was smoking a +cigar. And, like all the rest, he bent before the gaze of his +sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Do not speak until you have seen her. A university training hardly +fits one to discourse upon matters of passion, and I feel scarcely +qualified, myself, to tell you what Antinea is. I only affirm this, +that when you have seen her, you will remember nothing else. Family, +country, honor, you will renounce everything for her."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 102 -->Everything?" asked Morhange in a calm voice.</p> + +<p>"Everything," Le Mesge insisted emphatically. "You will forget all, +you will renounce all."</p> + +<p>From outside, a faint sound came to us.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge consulted his watch.</p> + +<p>"In any case, you will see."</p> + +<p>The door opened. A tall white Targa, the tallest we had yet seen in +this remarkable abode, entered and came toward us.</p> + +<p>He bowed and touched me lightly on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Follow him," said M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>Without a word, I obeyed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XI"><!-- Chapter 11 --></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>ANTINEA</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>My guide and I passed along another long corridor. My excitement +increased. I was impatient for one thing only, to come face to face +with that woman, to tell her.... So far as anything else was +concerned, I already was done for.</p> + +<p>I was mistaken in hoping that the adventure would take an heroic turn +at once. In real life, these contrasts never are definitely marked +out. I should have remembered from many past incidents that the +burlesque was regularly mixed with the tragic in my life.</p> + +<p>We reached a little transparent door. My guide stood aside to let me +pass.</p> + +<p>I found myself in the most luxurious of dressing-rooms. A ground glass +ceiling diffused a gay rosy light over the marble floor. The first +thing I noticed was a clock, fastened to the wall. In place of the +figures for the hours, were the signs of the Zodiac. The small hand +had not yet reached the sign of Capricorn.</p> + +<p>Only three o'clock!</p> + +<p>The day seemed to have lasted a century already.... And only a little +more than half of it was gone.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 103 -->Another idea came to me, and a convulsive laugh bent me double.</p> + +<p>"Antinea wants me to be at my best when I meet her."</p> + +<p>A mirror of orichalch formed one whole side of the room. Glancing into +it, I realized that in all decency there was nothing exaggerated in +the demand.</p> + +<p>My untrimmed beard, the frightful layer of dirt which lay about my +eyes and furrowed my cheeks, my clothing, spotted by all the clay of +the Sahara and torn by all the thorns of Ahaggar—all this made me +appear a pitiable enough suitor.</p> + +<p>I lost no time in undressing and plunging into the porphry bath in the +center of the room. A delicious drowsiness came over me in that +perfumed water. A thousand little jars, spread on a costly carved wood +dressing-table, danced before my eyes. They were of all sizes and +colors, carved in a very transparent kind of jade. The warm humidity +of the atmosphere hastened my relaxation.</p> + +<p>I still had strength to think, "The devil take Atlantis and the vault +and Le Mesge."</p> + +<p>Then I fell asleep in the bath.</p> + +<p>When I opened my eyes again, the little hand of the clock had almost +reached the sign of Taurus. Before me, his black hands braced on the +edge of the bath, stood a huge Negro, bare-faced and bare-armed, his +forehead bound with an immense orange turban.</p> + +<p>He looked at me and showed his white teeth in a silent laugh.</p> + +<p>"Who is this fellow?"</p> + +<p>The Negro laughed harder. Without saying a word, he lifted me like a +feather out of the perfumed water, now of a color on which I shall not +dwell.</p> + +<p>In no time at all, I was stretched out on an inclined marble table.</p> + +<p>The Negro began to massage me vigorously.</p> + +<p>"More gently there, fellow!"</p> + +<p>My masseur did not reply, but laughed and rubbed still harder.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from? Kanem? Torkou? You laugh too much for a +Targa."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 104 -->Unbroken silence. The Negro was as speechless as he was hilarious.</p> + +<p>"After all, I am making a fool of myself," I said, giving up the case. +"Such as he is, he is more agreeable than Le Mesge with his +nightmarish erudition. But, on my word, what a recruit he would be for +Hamman on the rue des Mathurins!"</p> + +<p>"Cigarette, sidi?"</p> + +<p>Without awaiting my reply, he placed a cigarette between my lips and +lighted it, and resumed his task of polishing every inch of me.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't talk much, but he is obliging," I thought.</p> + +<p>And I sent a puff of smoke into his face.</p> + +<p>This pleasantry seemed to delight him immensely. He showed his +pleasure by giving me great slaps.</p> + +<p>When he had dressed me down sufficiently, he took a little jar from +the dressing-table and began to rub me with a rose-colored ointment. +Weariness seemed to fly away from my rejuvenated muscles.</p> + +<p>A stroke on a copper gong. My masseur disappeared. A stunted old +Negress entered, dressed in the most tawdry tinsel. She was talkative +as a magpie, but at first I did not understand a word in the +interminable string she unwound, while she took first my hands, then +my feet, and polished the nails with determined grimaces.</p> + +<p>Another stroke on the gong. The old woman gave place to another Negro, +grave, this time, and dressed all in white with a knitted skull cap on +his oblong head. It was the barber, and a remarkably dexterous one. He +quickly trimmed my hair, and, on my word, it was well done. Then, +without asking me what style I preferred, he shaved me clean.</p> + +<p>I looked with pleasure at my face, once more visible.</p> + +<p>"Antinea must like the American type," I thought. "What an affront to +the memory of her worthy grandfather, Neptune!"</p> + +<p>The gay Negro entered and placed a package on the divan. The barber +disappeared. I was somewhat astonished to observe that the package, +which my new valet opened carefully, contained a suit of white +flannels exactly like those French officers wear in Algeria in summer.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 105 -->The wide trousers seemed made to my measure. The tunic fitted without +a wrinkle, and my astonishment was unbounded at observing that it even +had two gilt <i>galons</i>, the insignia of my rank, braided on the cuffs. +For shoes, there were slippers of red Morocco leather, with gold +ornaments. The underwear, all of silk, seemed to have come straight +from the rue de la Paix.</p> + +<p>"Dinner was excellent," I murmured, looking at myself in the mirror +with satisfaction. "The apartment is perfectly arranged. Yes, but...."</p> + +<p>I could not repress a shudder when I suddenly recalled that room of +red marble.</p> + +<p>The clock struck half past four.</p> + +<p>Someone rapped gently on the door. The tall white Targa, who had +brought me, appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward, touched me on the arm and signed for me to follow.</p> + +<p>Again I followed him.</p> + +<p>We passed through interminable corridors. I was disturbed, but the +warm water had given me a certain feeling of detachment. And above +all, more than I wished to admit, I had a growing sense of lively +curiosity. If, at that moment, someone had offered to lead me back to +the route across the white plain near Shikh-Salah, would I have +accepted? Hardly.</p> + +<p>I tried to feel ashamed of my curiosity. I thought of Maillefeu.</p> + +<p>"He, too, followed this corridor. And now he is down there, in the red +marble hall."</p> + +<p>I had no time to linger over this reminiscence. I was suddenly bowled +over, thrown to the ground, as if by a sort of meteor. The corridor +was dark; I could see nothing. I heard only a mocking growl.</p> + +<p>The white Targa had flattened himself back against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Good," I mumbled, picking myself up, "the deviltries are beginning."</p> + +<p>We continued on our way. A glow different from that of the rose night +lights soon began to light up the corridor.</p> + +<p>We reached a high bronze door, in which a strange lacy <!-- Page 106 -->design had +been cut in filigree. A clear gong sounded, and the double doors +opened part way. The Targa remained in the corridor, closing the doors +after me.</p> + +<p>I took a few steps forward mechanically, then paused, rooted to the +spot, and rubbed my eyes.</p> + +<p>I was dazzled by the sight of the sky.</p> + +<p>Several hours of shaded light had unaccustomed me to daylight. It +poured in through one whole side of the huge room.</p> + +<p>The room was in the lower part of this mountain, which was more +honeycombed with corridors and passages than an Egyptian pyramid. It +was on a level with the garden which I had seen in the morning from +the balcony, and seemed to be a continuation of it; the carpet +extended out under the great palm trees and the birds flew about the +forest of pillars in the room.</p> + +<p>By contrast, the half of the room untouched by direct light from the +oasis seemed dark. The sun, setting behind the mountain, painted the +garden paths with rose and flamed with red upon the traditional +flamingo which stood with one foot raised at the edge of the sapphire +lake.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I was bowled over a second time.</p> + +<p>I felt a warm, silky touch, a burning breath on my neck. Again the +mocking growl which had so disturbed me in the corridor.</p> + +<p>With a wrench, I pulled myself free and sent a chance blow at my +assailant. The cry, this time of pain and rage, broke out again.</p> + +<p>It was echoed by a long peal of laughter. Furious, I turned to look +for the insolent onlooker, thinking to speak my mind. And then my +glance stood still.</p> + +<p>Antinea was before me. +<br /></p> + +<p>In the dimmest part of the room, under a kind of arch lit by the mauve +rays from a dozen incense-lamps, four women lay on a heap of +many-colored cushions and rare white Persian rugs.</p> + +<p>I recognized the first three as Tuareg women, of a splendid regular +beauty, dressed in magnificent robes of white silk embroidered in +gold. The fourth, very dark skinned, almost <!-- Page 107 -->negroid, seemed younger. +A tunic of red silk enhanced the dusk of her face, her arms and her +bare feet. The four were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs, +covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one +elbow, lay Antinea.</p> + +<p>Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really +looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More +beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the +fault of the language or of those who abuse the word?</p> + +<p>One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom +Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter +of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom +Antony fled....</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras</i><br /></span> +<span><i>C'est dans l'étreinte altière et chaude de ses bras</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>An Egyptian <i>klaft</i> fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two +points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The +golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round, +determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her +head.</p> + +<p>She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very +full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with +iris in black pearls.</p> + +<p>That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim +young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A +more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile, +such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom.</p> + +<p>I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at +it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most +extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable +moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than +to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty +young men who had held that slender body in their arms.</p> + +<p>She was still laughing at me.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 108 -->King Hiram," she called.</p> + +<p>I turned and saw my enemy.</p> + +<p>On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a +splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I +had dealt him.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here."</p> + +<p>The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's +feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles.</p> + +<p>"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said.</p> + +<p>The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle +puckered about his black moustache.</p> + +<p>"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat.</p> + +<p>"Go," Antinea ordered imperiously.</p> + +<p>The beast crawled reluctantly toward me. He laid his head humbly +between his paws and waited.</p> + +<p>I stroked his beautiful spotted forehead.</p> + +<p>"You must not be vexed," said Antinea. "He is always that way with +strangers."</p> + +<p>"Then he must often be in bad humor," I said simply.</p> + +<p>Those were my first words. They brought a smile to Antinea's lips.</p> + +<p>She gave me a long, quiet look.</p> + +<p>"Aguida," she said to one of the Targa women, "you will give +twenty-five pounds in gold to Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"You are a lieutenant?" she asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?"</p> + +<p>"From France."</p> + +<p>"I might have guessed that," she said ironically, "but from what part +of France?"</p> + +<p>"From what we call the Lot-et-Garonne."</p> + +<p>"From what town?"</p> + +<p>"From Duras."</p> + +<p>She reflected a moment.</p> + +<p>"Duras! There is a little river there, the Dropt, and a fine old +château."</p> + +<p>"You know Duras?" I murmured, amazed.</p> + +<p>"You go there from Bordeaux by a little branch railway," she went on. +"It is a shut-in road, with vine-covered hills <!-- Page 109 -->crowned by the feudal +ruins. The villages have beautiful names: Monségur, +Sauve-terre-de-Guyenne, la Tresne, Créon, ... Créon, as in Antigone."</p> + +<p>"You have been there?"</p> + +<p>She looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak so coldly," she said. "Sooner or later we will be +intimate, and you may as well lay aside formality now."</p> + +<p>This threatening promise suddenly filled me with great happiness. I +thought of Le Mesge's words: "Don't talk until you have seen her. When +you have seen her, you will renounce everything for her."</p> + +<p>"Have I been in Duras?" she went on with a burst of laughter. "You are +joking. Imagine Neptune's granddaughter in the first-class compartment +of a local train!"</p> + +<p>She pointed to an enormous white rock which towered above the palm +trees of the garden.</p> + +<p>"That is my horizon," she said gravely.</p> + +<p>She picked up one of several books which lay scattered about her on +the lion's skin.</p> + +<p>"The time table of the <i>Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest</i>," she said. +"Admirable reading for one who never budges! Here it is half-past five +in the afternoon. A train, a local, arrived three minutes ago at +Surgères in the Charente-Inférieure. It will start on in six minutes. +In two hours it will reach La Rochelle. How strange it seems to think +of such things here. So far away! So much commotion there! Here, +nothing changes."</p> + +<p>"You speak French well," I said.</p> + +<p>She gave a little nervous laugh.</p> + +<p>"I have to. And German, too, and Italian, and English and Spanish. My +way of living has made me a great polygot. But I prefer French, even +to Tuareg and Arabian. It seems as if I had always known it. And I am +not saying that to please you."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. I thought of her grandmother, of whom Plutarch +said: "There were few races with which she needed an interpreter. +Cleopatra spoke their own language to the Ethiopians, to the +Troglodytes, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Medes and the Persians."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 110 -->Do not stand rooted in the middle of the room. You worry me. Come +sit here, beside me. Move over, King Hiram."</p> + +<p>The leopard obeyed with good temper.</p> + +<p>Beside her was an onyx bowl. She took from it a perfectly plain ring +of orichalch and slipped it on my left ring-finger. I saw that she +wore one like it.</p> + +<p>"Tanit-Zerga, give Monsieur de Saint-Avit a rose sherbet."</p> + +<p>The dark girl in red silk obeyed.</p> + +<p>"My private secretary," said Antinea, introducing her. "Mademoiselle +Tanit-Zerga, of Gâo, on the Niger. Her family is almost as ancient as +mine."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she looked at me. Her green eyes seemed to be appraising +me.</p> + +<p>"And your comrade, the Captain?" she asked in a dreamy tone. "I have +not yet seen him. What is he like? Does he resemble you?"</p> + +<p>For the first time since I had entered, I thought of Morhange. I did +not answer.</p> + +<p>Antinea smiled.</p> + +<p>She stretched herself out full length on the lion skin. Her bare right +knee slipped out from under her tunic.</p> + +<p>"It is time to go find him," she said languidly. "You will soon +receive my orders. Tanit-Zerga, show him the way. First take him to +his room. He cannot have seen it."</p> + +<p>I rose and lifted her hand to my lips. She struck me with it so +sharply as to make my lips bleed, as if to brand me as her possession.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>I was in the dark corridor again. The young girl in the red silk tunic +walked ahead of me.</p> + +<p>"Here is your room," she said. "If you wish, I will take you to the +dining-room. The others are about to meet there for dinner."</p> + +<p>She spoke an adorable lisping French.</p> + +<p>"No, Tanit-Zerga, I would rather stay here this evening. I am not +hungry. I am tired."</p> + +<p>"You remember my name?" she said.</p> + +<p>She seemed proud of it. I felt that in her I had an ally in case of +need.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 111 -->I remember your name, Tanit-Zerga, because it is +beautiful."<a name="FNanchor_M_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_12"><sup>[12]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Then I added:</p> + +<p>"Now, leave me, little one. I want to be alone."</p> + +<p>It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same +time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself.</p> + +<p>"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the +table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white +Targa will answer."</p> + +<p>For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the +midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service.</p> + +<p>I looked about my room. My room! For how long?</p> + +<p>It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock, +all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade.</p> + +<p>I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting +sun entered.</p> + +<p>I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my +heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the +ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me.</p> + +<p>In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the +first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the +distance, I saw the limitless red desert.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 112 --> +<h2><a name="XII"><!-- Chapter 12 --></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>MORHANGE DISAPPEARS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next +day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed +amazing.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by +consulting Morhange."</p> + +<p>I was ravenously hungry.</p> + +<p>The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I +struck it. A white Targa appeared.</p> + +<p>"Show me the way to the library," I ordered.</p> + +<p>He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and +corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his +help.</p> + +<p>Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript.</p> + +<p>"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger +were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters."</p> + +<p>I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the +table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like +that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she +herself wore.</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You have seen her?"</p> + +<p>"I have indeed," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>"She is beautiful, is she not?"</p> + +<p>"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even +believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is +beautiful."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 113 -->You know what our fate is to be?"</p> + +<p>"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological +terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure."</p> + +<p>He was silent, then said, looking at me:</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature +is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very +easily."</p> + +<p>Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did +not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged +correctly.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured.</p> + +<p>He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair +and lit a cigar.</p> + +<p>"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I +have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no +discussion.</p> + +<p>"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my +semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather +doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but, +even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my +having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no +taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us.</p> + +<p>"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the +right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his +own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish, +results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular +ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give +satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance +of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire: +such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps +even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under +similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so +doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The +end justified the means.</p> + +<p>"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd <!-- Page 114 -->caprices +of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the +red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take +you first. Under those conditions...."</p> + +<p>"Under those conditions?"</p> + +<p>"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to +acquiesce."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and +smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this +superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse +advances."</p> + +<p>Then he added with an ironical smile:</p> + +<p>"A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to."</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was +breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le +Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she +replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Maudit soit à jamais rêveur inutile</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidité</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>S'éprenant d'un problème insoluble et stérile</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Aux choses de l'amour mêler l'honnêteté</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers, +'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There +followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to +reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from +Baudelaire.</p> + +<p>"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman +whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in +order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek +knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant +with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew +me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid <!-- Page 115 -->things as you know +of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of +different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in +the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this +is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend +is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman +indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer +than that master of sensualism."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Le Mesge, suddenly entering the room, "why are you +so late? They are waiting dinner for you."</p> + +<p>The little Professor was in a particularly good humor that evening. He +wore a new violet rosette.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said, in a mocking tone, "you have seen her?"</p> + +<p>Neither Morhange nor I replied.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Spardek and the Hetmari of Jitomir already had begun +eating when we arrived. The setting sun threw raspberry lights on the +cream-colored mat.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, gentlemen," said Le Mesge noisily. "Lieutenant de +Saint-Avit, you were not with us last evening. You are about to taste +the cooking of Koukou, our Bambara chef, for the first time. You must +give me your opinion of it."</p> + +<p>A Negro waiter set before me a superb fish covered with a pimento +sauce as red as tomatoes.</p> + +<p>I have explained that I was ravenously hungry. The dish was exquisite. +The sauce immediately made me thirsty.</p> + +<p>"White Ahaggar, 1879," the Herman of Jitomir breathed in my ear as he +filled my goblet with a clear topaz liquid. "I developed it myself: +<i>rien pour la tête, tout pour les jambes</i>."</p> + +<p>I emptied the goblet at a gulp. The company began to seem charming.</p> + +<p>"Well, Captain Morhange," Le Mesge called out to my comrade who had +taken a mouthful of fish, "what do you say to this acanthopterygian? +It was caught to-day in the lake in the oasis. Do you begin to admit +the hypothesis of the Saharan sea?"</p> + +<p>"The fish is an argument," my companion replied.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he became silent. The door had opened. A white Targa entered. +The diners stopped talking.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 116 -->The veiled man walked slowly toward Morhange and touched his right +arm.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>He got up and followed the messenger.</p> + +<p>The pitcher of Ahaggar, 1879, stood between me and Count Bielowsky. I +filled my goblet—a goblet which held a pint, and gulped it down.</p> + +<p>The Hetman looked at me sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge, nudging me with his elbow. "Antinea has +respect for the hierarchic order."</p> + +<p>The Reverend Spardek smiled modestly.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge again.</p> + +<p>My glass was empty. For a moment I was tempted to hurl it at the head +of the Fellow in History. But what of it? I filled it and emptied it +again.</p> + +<p>"Morhange will miss this delicious roast of mutton," said the +Professor, more and more hilarious, as he awarded himself a thick +slice of meat.</p> + +<p>"He won't regret it," said the Hetman crossly. "This is not roast; it +is ram's horn. Really Koukou is beginning to make fun of us."</p> + +<p>"Blame it on the Reverend," the shrill voice of Le Mesge cut in. "I +have told him often enough to hunt other proselytes and leave our cook +alone."</p> + +<p>"Professor," Spardek began with dignity.</p> + +<p>"I maintain my contention," cried Le Mesge, who seemed to me to be +getting a bit overloaded. "I call the gentleman to witness," he went +on, turning to me. "He has just come. He is unbiased. Therefore I ask +him: has one the right to spoil a Bambara cook by addling his head +with theological discussions for which he has no predisposition?"</p> + +<p>"Alas!" the pastor replied sadly. "You are mistaken. He has only too +strong a propensity to controversy."</p> + +<p>"Koukou is a good-for-nothing who uses Colas' cow as an excuse for +doing nothing and letting our scallops burn," declared the Hetman. +"Long live the Pope!" he cried, filling the glasses all around.</p> + +<p>"I assure you that this Bambara worries me," Spardek went on with +great dignity. "Do you know what he has come to? He denies +transubstantiation. He is within an inch of the <!-- Page 117 -->heresy of Zwingli and +Oecolampades. Koukou denies transubstantiation."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Le Mesge, very much excited, "cooks should be left in +peace. Jesus, whom I consider as good a theologian as you, understood +that, and it never occurred to him to call Martha away from her oven +to talk nonsense to her."</p> + +<p>"Exactly so," said the Hetman approvingly.</p> + +<p>He was holding a jar between his knees and trying to draw its cork.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Côtes Rôties, wines from the Côte-Rôtie!" he murmured +to me as he finally succeeded. "Touch glasses."</p> + +<p>"Koukou denies transubstantiation," the pastor continued, sadly +emptying his glass.</p> + +<p>"Eh!" said the Hetman of Jitomir in my ear, "let them talk on. Don't +you see that they are quite drunk?"</p> + +<p>His own voice was thick. He had the greatest difficulty in the world +in filling my goblet to the brim.</p> + +<p>I wanted to push the pitcher away. Then an idea came to me:</p> + +<p>"At this very moment, Morhange.... Whatever he may say.... She is so +beautiful."</p> + +<p>I reached out for the glass and emptied it once more.</p> + +<p>Le Mesge and the pastor were now engaged in the most extraordinary +religious controversy, throwing at each other's heads the Book of +Common Prayer, The Declaration of the Rights of Man, and the +Unigenitus. Little by little, the Hetman began to show that ascendancy +over them, which is the characteristic of a man of the world even when +he is thoroughly drunk; the superiority of education over instruction.</p> + +<p>Count Bielowsky had drunk five times as much as the Professor or the +pastor. But he carried his wine ten times better.</p> + +<p>"Let us leave these drunken fellows," he said with disgust. "Come on, +old man. Our partners are waiting in the gaming room."</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," said the Hetman as we entered. "Permit me to +present a new player to you, my friend, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 118 -->Let it go at that," he murmured in my ear. "They are the servants. +But I like to fool myself, you see."</p> + +<p>I saw that he was very drunk indeed.</p> + +<p>The gaming room was very long and narrow. A huge table, almost level +with the floor and surrounded with cushions on which a dozen natives +were lying, was the chief article of furniture. Two engravings on the +wall gave evidence of the happiest broadmindedness in taste; one of da +Vinci's St. John the Baptist, and the <i>Maison des Dernières +Cartouches</i> of Alphonse de Neuville.</p> + +<p>On the table were earthenware goblets. A heavy jar held palm liqueur.</p> + +<p>I recognized acquaintances among those present; my masseur, the +manicure, the barber, and two or three Tuareg who had lowered their +veils and were gravely smoking long pipes. While waiting for something +better, all were plunged in the delights of a card game that looked +like "rams." Two of Antinea's beautiful ladies in waiting, Aguida and +Sydya, were among the number. Their smooth bistre skins gleamed +beneath veils shot with silver. I was sorry not to see the red silk +tunic of Tanit-Zerga. Again, I thought of Morhange, but only for an +instant.</p> + +<p>"The chips, Koukou," demanded the Hetman, "We are not here to amuse +ourselves."</p> + +<p>The Zwinglian cook placed a box of many-colored chips in front of him. +Count Bielowsky set about counting them and arranging them in little +piles with infinite care.</p> + +<p>"The white are worth a <i>louis</i>," he explained to me. "The red, a +hundred francs. The yellow, five hundred. The green, a thousand. Oh, +it's the devil of a game that we play here. You will see."</p> + +<p>"I open with ten thousand," said the Zwinglian cook.</p> + +<p>"Twelve thousand," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen," said Sydya with a slow smile, as she seated herself on the +count's knee and began to arrange her chips lovingly in little piles.</p> + +<p>"Fourteen," I said.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen," said the sharp voice of Rosita, the old manicure.</p> + +<p>"Seventeen," proclaimed the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Twenty thousand," the cook broke in.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 119 -->He hammered on the table and, casting a defiant look at us, repeated:</p> + +<p>"I take it at twenty thousand."</p> + +<p>The Hetman made an impatient gesture.</p> + +<p>"That devil, Koukou! You can't do anything against the beast. You will +have to play carefully, Lieutenant."</p> + +<p>Koukou had taken his place at the end of the table. He threw down the +cards with an air which abashed me.</p> + +<p>"I told you so; the way it was at Anna Deslions'," the Hetman murmured +proudly.</p> + +<p>"Make your bets, gentlemen," yelped the Negro. "Make your bets."</p> + +<p>"Wait, you beast," called Bielowsky. "Don't you see that the glasses +are empty? Here, Cacambo."</p> + +<p>The goblets were filled immediately by the jolly masseur.</p> + +<p>"Cut," said Koukou, addressing Sydya, the beautiful Targa who sat at +his right.</p> + +<p>The girl cut, like one who knows superstitions, with her left hand. +But it must be said that her right was busy lifting a cup to her lips. +I watched the curve of her beautiful throat.</p> + +<p>"My deal," said Koukou.</p> + +<p>We were thus arranged: at the left, the Hetman, Aguida, whose waist he +had encircled with the most aristocratic freedom, Cacambo, a Tuareg +woman, then two veiled Negroes who were watching the game intently. At +the right, Sydya, myself, the old manicure, Rosita, Barouf, the +barber, another woman and two white Tuareg, grave and attentive, +exactly opposite those on the left.</p> + +<p>"Give me one," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>Sydya made a negative gesture.</p> + +<p>Koukou drew, passed a four-spot to the Hetman, gave himself a five.</p> + +<p>"Eight," announced Bielowsky.</p> + +<p>"Six," said pretty Sydya.</p> + +<p>"Seven," broke in Koukou. "One card makes up for another," he added +coldly.</p> + +<p>"I double," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>Cacambo and Aguida followed his example. On our side, we were more +careful. The manicure especially would not risk more than twenty +francs at a time.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 120 -->I demand that the cards be evened up," said Koukou imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"This fellow is unbearable," grumbled the count. "There, are you +satisfied?"</p> + +<p>Koukou dealt and laid down a nine.</p> + +<p>"My country and my honor!" raged Bielowsky. "I had an eight."</p> + +<p>I had two kings, and so showed no ill temper. Rosita took the cards +out of my hands.</p> + +<p>I watched Sydya at my right. Her heavy black hair covered her +shoulders. She was really very beautiful, though a bit tipsy, as were +all that fantastic company. She looked at me, too, but with lowered +eyelids, like a timid little wild animal.</p> + +<p>"Oh," I thought. "She may well be afraid. I am labelled 'No +trespassing.'"</p> + +<p>I touched her foot. She drew it back in fright.</p> + +<p>"Who wants cards?" Koukou demanded.</p> + +<p>"Not I," said the Hetman.</p> + +<p>"Served," said Sydya.</p> + +<p>The cook drew a four.</p> + +<p>"Nine," he said.</p> + +<p>"That card was meant for me," cursed the count. "And five, I had a +five. If only I had never promised his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon II +never to cut fives! There are times when it is hard, very hard. And +look at that beast of a Negro who plays Charlemagne."</p> + +<p>It was true. Koukou swept in three-quarters of the chips, rose with +dignity, and bowed to the company.</p> + +<p>"Till to-morrow, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Get along, the whole pack of you," howled the Hetman of Jitomir. +"Stay with me, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>When we were alone, he poured out another huge cupfull of liqueur. The +ceiling of the room was lost in the gray smoke.</p> + +<p>"What time is it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"After midnight. But you are not going to leave me like this, my dear +boy? I am heavy-hearted."</p> + +<p>He wept bitterly. The tail of his coat spread out on the divan behind +him like the apple-green wings of a beetle.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 121 -->Isn't Aguida a beauty?" he went on, still weeping. "She makes me +think of the Countess de Teruel, though she is a little darker. You +know the Countess de Teruel, Mercedes, who went in bathing nude at +Biarritz, in front of the rock of the Virgin, one day when Prince +Bismarck was standing on the foot-bridge. You do not remember her? +Mercedes de Teruel."</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I forget; you must have been too young. Two, perhaps three years old. +A child. Yes, a child. Oh, my child, to have been of that generation +and to be reduced to playing cards with savages ... I must tell +you...."</p> + +<p>I stood up and pushed him off.</p> + +<p>"Stay, stay," he implored. "I will tell you everything you want to +know, how I came here, things I have never told anyone. Stay, I must +unbosom myself to a true friend. I will tell you everything, I repeat. +I trust you. You are a Frenchman, a gentleman. I know that you will +repeat nothing to her."</p> + +<p>"That I will repeat nothing to her?... To whom?"</p> + +<p>His voice stuck in his throat. I thought I saw a shudder of fear pass +over him.</p> + +<p>"To her ... to Antinea," he murmured.</p> + +<p>I sat down again.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIII"><!-- Chapter 13 --></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Count Casimir had reached that stage where drunkenness takes on a kind +of gravity, of regretfulness.</p> + +<p>He thought a little, then began his story. I regret that I cannot +reproduce more perfectly its archaic flavor.</p> + +<p>"When the grapes begin to color in Antinea's garden, I shall be +sixty-eight. It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your wild +oats. It isn't true that life is always beginning over again. How +bitter, to have known the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the +point where I am now!</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 122 -->One evening, just before the war (I remember that Victor Black was +still living), some charming women whose names I need not disclose (I +read the names of their sons from time to time in the society news of +the <i>Gaulois</i>) expressed to me their desire to rub elbows with some +real <i>demi-mondaines</i> of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at +the <i>Grande Chaumière</i>. There was a crowd of young painters, models, +students. In the midst of the uproar, several couples danced the +<i>cancan</i> till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed especially a +little, dark man, dressed in a miserable top-coat and checked trousers +which assuredly knew the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed, +with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be. He bounded and +kicked extravagantly. The ladies called him Léon Gambetta.</p> + +<p>"What an annoyance, when I realize that I need only have felled this +wretched lawyer with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect +happiness to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow, I +am French at heart, if not by birth.</p> + +<p>"I was born in 1829, at Warsaw, of a Polish father and a Russian +mother. It is from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir. It +was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request made to him on +his visit to Paris, by my august master, the Emperor Napoleon III.</p> + +<p>"For political reasons, which I cannot describe without retelling the +history of unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left Warsaw +in 1830, and went to live in London. After the death of my mother, he +began to squander his immense fortune—from sorrow, he said. When, in +his time, he died at the period of the Prichard affair, he left me +barely a thousand pounds sterling of income, plus two or three systems +of gaming, the impracticability of which I learned later.</p> + +<p>"I will never be able to think of my nineteenth and twentieth years +without emotion, for I then completely liquidated this small +inheritance. London was indeed an adorable spot in those days. I had a +jolly bachelor's apartment in Piccadilly.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Picadilly! Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The whirling of wheels and the murmur of trees.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"<!-- Page 123 -->Fox hunting in a <i>briska</i>, driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, +not to mention the delightful little parties with the light Venuses of +Drury Lane, this took all my time. All? I am unjust. There was also +gaming, and a sentiment of filial piety forced me to verify the +systems of the late Count, my father. It was gaming which was the +cause of the event I must describe to you, by which my life was to be +so strangely changed.</p> + +<p>"My friend, Lord Malmesbury, had said to me a hundred times, 'I must +take you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford Street, +number 277, Miss Howard.' One evening I went with him. It was the +twenty-second of February, 1848. The mistress of the house was really +marvelously beautiful, and the guests were charming. Besides +Malmesbury, I observed several acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord +Chesterfield, Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards, +and Count d'Orsay. They played cards and then began to talk politics. +Events in France played the main part in the conversation and they +discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt that had broken out +in Paris that same morning, in consequence of the interdiction of the +banquet in the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been +received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never bothered myself +with public affairs. So I don't know what moved me to affirm with the +impetuosity of my nineteen years that the news from France meant the +Republic next day and the Empire the day after....</p> + +<p>"The company received my sally with a discreet laugh, and their looks +were centered on a guest who made the fifth at a <i>bouillotte</i> table +where they had just stopped playing.</p> + +<p>"The guest smiled, too. He rose and came towards me. I observed that +he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned tightly into a +blue frock coat, and that his eye had a far-off, dreamy look.</p> + +<p>"All the players watched this scene with delighted amusement.</p> + +<p>"'Whom have I the honor of addressing?' he asked in a very gentle +voice.</p> + +<p>"'Count Bielowsky,' I answered coolly to show him that <!-- Page 124 -->the difference +in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear Count, may your prediction indeed be realized; and I +hope that you will not neglect the Tuileries,' said the guest in the +blue coat, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"And he added, finally consenting to present himself:</p> + +<p>"'Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.'</p> + +<p>"I played no active rôle in the <i>coup d'état</i>, and I do not regret it. +It is a principle with me that a stranger should not meddle with the +internal affairs of a country. The prince understood this discretion, +and did not forget the young man who had been of such good omen to +him.</p> + +<p>"I was one of the first whom he called to the Elysée. My fortune was +definitely established by a defamatory note on 'Napoleon the little.' +The next year, when Mgr. Sibour was out of the way, I was made +Gentleman of the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to have +me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto, Duke of Mondovi.</p> + +<p>"I have no scruple in announcing that this union was not what it +should have been. The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was +crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover, her family had insisted +resolutely on a marriage portion. Now I had nothing at this time +except the twenty-five thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman +of the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate terms with the Count +d'Orsay and the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of +the Emperor, where would I have been?</p> + +<p>"One morning in the spring of 1852, I was in my study opening my mail. +There was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries at +four o'clock; a letter from Clémentine, informing me that she expected +me at five o'clock at her house. Clémentine was the beautiful one for +whom, just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I was so proud of +her that, one evening at the <i>Maison Dorée</i>, I flaunted her before +Prince Metternich, who was tremendously taken with her. All the court +envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged to continue to +assume its expenses. And <!-- Page 125 -->then Clémentine was so pretty! The Emperor +himself.... The other letters, good lord, the other letters were the +bills of the dressmakers of that young person, who, in spite of my +discreet remonstrances, insisted on having them sent to my conjugal +dwelling.</p> + +<p>"There were bills for something over forty thousand francs: gowns and +ball dresses from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and +bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d'Antin; lingerie and many +petticoats from Madame Pauline, 100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and +gloves from the <i>Ville de Lyon</i>, 6 Rue de la Chaussée d'Antin; +foulards from the <i>Malle des Indes</i>; handkerchiefs from the <i>Compagnie +Irlandaise</i>; laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from <i>Candès</i>.... This +whitening cream of <i>Candès</i>, in particular, overwhelmed me with +stupefaction. The bill showed fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and +twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes' worth of whitening cream from +<i>Candès</i>.... Enough to soften the skin of a squadron of a hundred +guards!</p> + +<p>"'This can't keep on,' I said, putting the bills in my pocket.</p> + +<p>"At ten minutes to four, I crossed the wicket by the Carrousel.</p> + +<p>"In the Salon of the <i>aides de camp</i> I happened on Bacciochi.</p> + +<p>"'The Emperor has the grippe,' he said to me. 'He is keeping to his +room. He has given orders to have you admitted as soon as you arrive. +Come.'</p> + +<p>"His Majesty, dressed in a braided vest and Cossack trousers, was +meditating before a window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed +luminously under a gentle warm shower.</p> + +<p>"'Ah! Here he is,' said Napoleon. 'Here, have a cigarette. It seems +that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse, last evening, +at the <i>Château de Fleurs</i>.'</p> + +<p>"I smiled with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"'So Your Majesty knows already....'</p> + +<p>"'I know, I know vaguely.'</p> + +<p>"'Do you know Gramont-Caderousse's last "mot"?'</p> + +<p>"'No, but you are going to tell it to me.'</p> + +<p>"'Here goes, then. We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont, +Persigny....'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 126 -->'Persigny!' said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with +Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife.'</p> + +<p>"'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He +began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's +conduct.'</p> + +<p>"'This Fialin isn't over tactful,' muttered the Emperor.</p> + +<p>"'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at +him?'</p> + +<p>"'What?'</p> + +<p>"'He said to him, "<i>Monsieur le Duc</i>, I forbid you to speak ill of my +mistress before me."</p> + +<p>"'Gramont goes too far,' said Napoleon with a dreamy smile.</p> + +<p>"'That is what we all thought, including Viel-Castel, who was +nevertheless delighted.'</p> + +<p>"'Apropos of this,' said Napoleon after a silence, 'I have forgotten +to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.'</p> + +<p>"'She is very well, Sire, I thank Your Majesty,'</p> + +<p>"'And Clémentine? Still the same dear child?'</p> + +<p>"'Always, Sire. But....'</p> + +<p>"'It seems that M. Baroche is madly in love with her.'</p> + +<p>"'I am very much honored, Sire. But this honor becomes too +burdensome.'</p> + +<p>"I had drawn from my pocket that morning's bills and I spread them out +under the eyes of the Emperor.</p> + +<p>"He looked at them with his distant smile.</p> + +<p>"'Come, come. If that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to +ask of you.'</p> + +<p>"'I am entirely at Your Majesty's service.'</p> + +<p>"He struck a gong.</p> + +<p>"'Send for M. Mocquard.'</p> + +<p>"'I have the grippe,' he said. 'Mocquard will explain the affair to +you.'</p> + +<p>"The Emperor's private secretary entered.</p> + +<p>"'Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,' said Napoleon. 'You know what I want +him to do. Explain it to him.'</p> + +<p>"And he began to tap on the window-panes against which the rain was +beating furiously.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 127 -->'My dear Count,' said Mocquard, taking a chair, 'it is very simple. +You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise, M. Henry +Duveyrier.'</p> + +<p>"I shook my head as a sign of negation, very much surprised at this +beginning.</p> + +<p>"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'has returned to Paris after a +particularly daring trip to South Africa and the Sahara. M. Vivien de +Saint Martin, whom I have seen recently has assured me that the +Geographical Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon him, +in recognition of these exploits. In the course of his trip, M. +Duveyrier has entered into negotiations with the chief of the people +who always have been so rebellious to His Majesty's armies, the +Tuareg.'</p> + +<p>"I looked at the Emperor. My bewilderment was such that he began to +laugh.</p> + +<p>"'Listen,' he said.</p> + +<p>"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a +delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to +His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His +Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the +signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our +fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, +<i>Amenokol</i> or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow +morning at the <i>Gare de Lyon</i>. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the +Emperor has thought that besides....'</p> + +<p>"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I +thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my +Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is +why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, +laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged +only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these +princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; +then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious +scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian +civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not <!-- Page 128 -->forget that in the +Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I +have confidence in your tact and give you <i>carte blanche</i>.... +Mocquard!'</p> + +<p>"'Sire?'</p> + +<p>"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to +the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of +the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, +to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed +that figure.'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion +that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When +she saw me, she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have +we done!'</p> + +<p>"'Clémentine, tell me!'</p> + +<p>"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt +against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was +fragrant with <i>eau de Nanon</i>.</p> + +<p>"'What is it? What can it be?'</p> + +<p>"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear.</p> + +<p>"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?'</p> + +<p>"'Am I quite sure!'</p> + +<p>"I was thunderstruck.</p> + +<p>"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply.</p> + +<p>"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I +assure you.'</p> + +<p>"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.'</p> + +<p>"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!'</p> + +<p>"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. +The Emperor's orders.'</p> + +<p>"'What bluff is this?' asked Clémentine.</p> + +<p>"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.'</p> + +<p>"I retold Mocquard's story to Clémentine, as well as I could. She +listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that +way.'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 129 -->Finally, furious, I burst out:</p> + +<p>"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I +invite you.'</p> + +<p>"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clémentine with great +dignity.</p> + +<p>"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a +day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. +The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. +And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular +paternity....</p> + +<p>"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the +Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of +Parisian civilization. Clémentine comports herself very well in +society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a +room for to-morrow at the <i>Café de Paris</i>, and tell Gramont-Caderousse +and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very +French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the +midst of this little party.'</p> + +<p>"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found +M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little +blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the +train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil +knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four +others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their +amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of +<i>sabir</i><a name="FNanchor_N_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_13"><sup>[13]</sup></a> + which helped things along.</p> + +<p>"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in +the evening to the Museum, to the <i>Hotel de Ville</i>, to the Imperial +Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the +registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give +you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: +Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-<!-- Page 130 -->ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- +ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud. +<a name="FNanchor_P_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_14"><sup>[14]</sup></a></p> + +<p>"And there were five of them like that!</p> + +<p>"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, +everywhere, our success was colossal. At the <i>Café de Paris</i>, at +six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, +embraced me: '<i>Bono, Napoléon, bono, Eugénie; bono, Casimir; bono, +Christians</i>.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth +number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the <i>Folies Dramatiques</i>, and +Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the +heart. But the palm was for my dear Clémentine, when she entered. I +must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China +blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the +pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of +green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence +which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. +The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between +their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed +bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged +with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a +diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined +in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of +blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin.</p> + +<p>"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, +especially, Clémentine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemâma, +brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup +arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already +much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique <i>à la +liqueur de Mme. Amphoux</i>, he showed every indication of illimitable +passion. The Cyprian wine <i>de la Commanderie</i> <!-- Page 131 -->made him quite sure of +his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, +intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the +indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when +the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner +in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet +in respect to wine.</p> + +<p>"At Mabille, while Clémentine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three +Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took +me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain +commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik +Ahmed.</p> + +<p>"The next day, very early, I reached Clémentine's house.</p> + +<p>"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, +'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.'</p> + +<p>"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly.</p> + +<p>"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with +you last night?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing.</p> + +<p>"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and +reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our +august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?'</p> + +<p>"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming +interested.</p> + +<p>"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august +sovereign, the Empress Eugénie?'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine, looked startled.</p> + +<p>"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make +this offer.'</p> + +<p>"Clémentine, dumb with amazement, did not reply.</p> + +<p>"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered.</p> + +<p>"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before +midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain +is made.'</p> + +<p>"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well +to display a little sentiment.</p> + +<p>"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!'</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 132 -->'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps +that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to +pay for your complexion cream!'</p> + +<p>"'Ah!' she sighed.</p> + +<p>"She added, however, 'And ... the child?'</p> + +<p>"'What child?'</p> + +<p>"'Our child ... our child.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and +loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles +him.'</p> + +<p>"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and +crying. +<br /></p> + +<p>"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried +away the five Tuareg and Clémentine. The young woman, radiant, was +leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy.</p> + +<p>"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly.</p> + +<p>"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied:</p> + +<p>"'<i>Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono</i>.'</p> + +<p>"At the last moment, Clémentine had a pang of emotion.</p> + +<p>"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a +queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....'</p> + +<p>"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped +it onto mine.</p> + +<p>"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come—find us. Take Sidi +Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. <i>Bono</i> +Ahaggar, <i>bono</i>.'</p> + +<p>"When I came out of the <i>Gare de Lyon</i>, I had the feeling of having +perpetrated an excellent joke."</p> + +<p>The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost +difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he +interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's +best score.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><!-- Page 133 --> +<span><i>Dans un bois passait un jeune homme</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Un jeune homme frais et beau</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Sa main tenait une pomme</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Vous voyez d'ici le tableau</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, +poor old Casimir! Five thousand <i>louis</i> to pay by the fifth of +September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat +and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But +the Empress was so kind. I found her alone—ah, people scatter quickly +under such circumstances!—alone, with a senator, M. Mérimée, the only +literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the +world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. +Thiers, whom I just met on the <i>Pont Royal</i>, would listen to nothing.'</p> + +<p>"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her +true friends are.'</p> + +<p>"And I kissed her hand.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"<i>Evohé, que les déesses</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Out de drôles de façons</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Pour enjôler, pour enjôler, pour enjôler les gaâarçons</i>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered +the rabble going from the <i>Corps Législatif</i> to the Hotel de Ville. My +mind was made up.</p> + +<p>"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.'</p> + +<p>"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened.</p> + +<p>"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am +going to be killed on the barricades.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged +you. Will you forgive me?'</p> + +<p>"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not +always been right myself.'</p> + +<p>"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the +Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career.</p> + +<p>"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the <i>Gare +de Lyon</i> in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 134 -->The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the +cushions and slept with clenched fists.</p> + +<p>I walked unsteadily to the great window.</p> + +<p>The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIV"><!-- Chapter 14 --></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>HOURS OF WAITING</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his +enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and +chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic +outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that +way—I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! +Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by +recalling such memories.</p> + +<p>One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that +Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By +the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black +desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! +the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those +letters, I said to him in a trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>He acquiesced without further words.</p> + +<p>"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when +the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I +found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that +the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter +into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for +the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from +Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this +delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 135 -->Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not +think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't +you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not +trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward +to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to +enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have +given—unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague +uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to +know that he was well and safe.</p> + +<p>"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of +Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women +were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and +Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not +endure <i>kouskous</i> of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of +information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With +Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste +for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. +Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a +doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I +pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange.</p> + +<p>"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister +puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of +Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence +remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had +invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors +that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick +voice a couplet from the music of <i>La Reine Hortense</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>De ma fille Isabelle</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Sois l'époux à l'instant</i>,<br /></span> +<span><i>Car elle est la plus belle</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Et toi, le plus vaillant</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old +skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid +printer of labels for the red marble hall,—how <!-- Page 136 -->could I meet him +without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very +curious case of apocope: +<img src="images/tfnr136_1.gif" width="220" height="43" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +. Suppression of <i>alpha</i>, of <i>tau</i> and of <i>lambda</i>! +I would like to direct your attention to another case as curious: +<img src="images/tfnr136_2.gif" width="228" height="48" alt="Tifinar word" title="Tifinar word" /> +, Clémentine. Apocope of <i>kappa</i>, of <i>lamba</i>, +of <i>epsilon</i> and of <i>mu</i>. If Morhange were with us, he would tell you +many charming erudite things about it. But, alas! Morhange does not +deign to come among us any more. We never see Morhange.'</p> + +<p>"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from +Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished +so often as during those days of waiting! Now—after six years—she +must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was +very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against +those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through +politeness.</p> + +<p>"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey +by the merchants of Rhât, she was born in Constantinople and had been +brought into Africa by her master when he became <i>kaïmakam</i> of +Rhadamès.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering +history by the incantations of this manicure.</p> + +<p>"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of +El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemâma, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great +and noble tribe of Kel-Rhelâ. She was born in the year twelve hundred +and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. +Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this +Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, +and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to +Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have +lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she +prefers to have them come to her.'</p> + +<p>"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely +devoted to her?'</p> + +<p>"'Nobody here knows Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is +continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to +Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin +of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, <!-- Page 137 -->he owes his life to her. He is +one of the men who assassinated the great Kébir Flatters. On account +of that, Ikenoukhen, <i>amenokol</i> of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French +reprisals, wanted to deliver Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the +whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes +the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then +twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of +occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red +marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.'</p> + +<p>"'And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties +successfully?'</p> + +<p>"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as +I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made +mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le +Mesge and marabout Spardek.'</p> + +<p>"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?'</p> + +<p>"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has +never made a mistake.'</p> + +<p>"'He has never made a mistake?'</p> + +<p>"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought +here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom +they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the +handsomest of all.'</p> + +<p>"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them +their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?'</p> + +<p>"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, +whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would +soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would +massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has +brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing +Antinea.'</p> + +<p>"'She keeps them a long time?'</p> + +<p>"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two +months, three months, on the average. <!-- Page 138 -->It depends. A big Belgian +officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other +hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English +officer: she kept him almost a year.'</p> + +<p>"'And then?'</p> + +<p>"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my +question.</p> + +<p>"'Of what did he die?'</p> + +<p>"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge:</p> + +<p>"'Like all the others: of love.</p> + +<p>"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that +their time is ended, and that Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find +others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They +neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All +night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed +through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: +he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of +<i>kif</i>, a <i>kif</i> that is more violent than opium. When they no longer +have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the +happiest. Little Kaine died differently.'</p> + +<p>"'How did little Kaine die?'</p> + +<p>"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed +longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In +Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, +there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very +heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his +dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, +mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A +Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the +Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the +time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding +guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. +The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest +difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only +to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble +hall.'</p> + +<p>"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 139 -->'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for +this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written +something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.'</p> + +<p>"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'</p> + +<p>"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window +through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have +killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought +was in my heart.</p> + +<p>"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when +Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does +she not? Nobody sees him any more?'</p> + +<p>The old woman shook her head.</p> + +<p>"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. +Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to +her immediately.'</p> + +<p>"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....'</p> + +<p>"The Negress smiled comprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near +her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.'</p> + +<p>"I struck my fist violently upon the table.</p> + +<p>"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!'</p> + +<p>"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little +instruments.</p> + +<p>"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'</p> + +<p>"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my +way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed +open the door of the red marble hall. I entered.</p> + +<p>"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be so +sinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of running +water. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One day +before an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waiting +for the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that we +leap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. I +listened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shade +in the transparent water, the little <!-- Page 140 -->beasts, the little black fish, +the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of water +always has carried me out of myself.</p> + +<p>"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the dark cascade. +It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst of these +rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26. It was +he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh, September +21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight. He wasn't even +twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat of orichalch. His mouth +sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Poor +youngster.—Edinburgh,—I knew Edinburgh, without ever having been +there. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills. +"Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anne +of Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the fold +of the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises from +among them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live with +my aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When he +left for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh a +Miss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slips +of girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, however +made for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And here +was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of +the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also.</p> + +<p>"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble +hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! +Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be +multiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless as +beautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witness +that I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession, +this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for the +sake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant, +to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremble +before them?</p> + +<p>"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. In +six months, eight, perhaps,—what difference any<!-- Page 141 -->way?—I shall be +hoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, a +finished body.</p> + +<p>"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. What +a child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I was +jealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, be +jealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, who +will come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still empty +niches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it is +to me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening, +in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54 +will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. I +shall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will be +my turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love.</p> + +<p>"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in the +library, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the people +who were assembled there.</p> + +<p>"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuareg +slaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference.</p> + +<p>"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so many +people who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other.</p> + +<p>"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountain +into uproar.</p> + +<p>"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to the +West, in Adhar Ahnet.</p> + +<p>"As soon as Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go to +meet them.</p> + +<p>"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing.</p> + +<p>"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt.</p> + +<p>"For the first time, Antinea was in love."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 142 --> +<h2><a name="XV"><!-- Chapter 15 --></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"<i>Arraôu, arraôu</i>."</p> + +<p>I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep to which I had finally +succumbed. I half opened my eyes. Immediately I flattened back.</p> + +<p>"<i>Arraôu</i>."</p> + +<p>Two feet from my face was the muzzle of King Hiram, yellow with a +tracery of black. The leopard was helping me to wake up; otherwise he +took little interest, for he yawned; his dark red jaws, beautiful +gleaming white fangs, opened and closed lazily.</p> + +<p>At the same moment I heard a burst of laughter.</p> + +<p>It was little Tanit-Zerga. She was crouching on a cushion near the +divan where I was stretched out, curiously watching my close interview +with the leopard.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram was bored," she felt obliged to explain to me. "I brought +him."</p> + +<p>"How nice," I growled. "Only tell me, could he not have gone somewhere +else to be amused?"</p> + +<p>"He is all alone now," said the girl. "<i>They</i> have sent him away. He +made too much noise when he played."</p> + +<p>These words recalled me to the events of the previous evening.</p> + +<p>"If you like, I will make him go away," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"No, let him alone."</p> + +<p>I looked at the leopard with sympathy. Our common misfortune brought +us together.</p> + +<p>I even caressed his rounded forehead. King Hiram showed his +contentment by stretching out at full length and uncurling his great +amber claws. The mat on the floor had much to suffer.</p> + +<p>"Galé is here, too," said the little girl.</p> + +<p>"Galé! Who may he be?"</p> + +<p><!-- Page 143 -->At the same time, I saw on Tanit-Zerga's knees a strange animal, +about the size of a big cat, with flat ears, and a long muzzle. Its +pale gray fur was rough.</p> + +<p>It was watching me with queer little pink eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is my mongoose," explained Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"Come now," I said sharply, "is that all?"</p> + +<p>I must have looked so crabbed and ridiculous that Tanit-Zerga began to +laugh. I laughed, too.</p> + +<p>"Galé is my friend," she said when she was serious again. "I saved her +life. It was when she was quite little. I will tell you about it some +day. See how good-natured she is."</p> + +<p>So saying, she dropped the mongoose on my knees.</p> + +<p>"It is very nice of you, Tanit-Zerga," I said, "to come and pay me a +visit." I passed my hand slowly over the animal's back. "What time is +it now?"</p> + +<p>"A little after nine. See, the sun is already high. Let me draw the +shade."</p> + +<p>The room was in darkness. Galé's eyes grew redder. King Hiram's became +green.</p> + +<p>"It is very nice of you," I repeated, pursuing my idea. "I see that +you are free to-day. You never came so early before."</p> + +<p>A shade passed over the girl's forehead.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am free," she said, almost bitterly.</p> + +<p>I looked at Tanit-Zerga more closely. For the first time I realized +that she was beautiful. Her hair, which she wore falling over her +shoulders, was not so much curly as it was gently waving. Her features +were of remarkable fineness: the nose very straight, a small mouth +with delicate lips, a strong chin. She was not black, but copper +colored. Her slender graceful body had nothing in common with the +disgusting thick sausages which the carefully cared for bodies of the +blacks become.</p> + +<p>A large circle of copper made a heavy decoration around her forehead +and hair. She had four bracelets, still heavier, on her wrists and +anklets, and, for clothing, a green silk tunic, slashed in points, +braided with gold. Green, bronze, gold.</p> + +<p>"You are a Sonrhaï, Tanit-Zerga?" I asked gently.</p> + +<p>She replied with almost ferocious pride:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 144 -->I am a Sonrhaï."</p> + +<p>"Strange little thing," I thought.</p> + +<p>Evidently this was a subject on which Tanit-Zerga did not intend the +conversation to turn. I recalled how, almost painfully, she had +pronounced that "they," when she had told me how they had driven away +King Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I am a Sonrhaï," she repeated. "I was born at Gâo, on the Niger, the +ancient Sonrhaï capital. My fathers reigned over the great Mandingue +Empire. You need not scorn me because I am here as a slave."</p> + +<p>In a ray of sunlight, Galé, seated on his little haunches, washed his +shining mustaches with his forepaws; and King Hiram, stretched out on +the mat, groaned plaintively in his sleep.</p> + +<p>"He is dreaming," said Tanit-Zerga, a finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>There was a moment of silence. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"You must be hungry. And I do not think that you will want to eat with +the others."</p> + +<p>I did not answer.</p> + +<p>"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something +to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Galé's dinner +here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone."</p> + +<p>And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my +answer.</p> + +<p>That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she +came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of +Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that +she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to +her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself, +dared not direct the conversation.</p> + +<p>To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like +a nervous little parokeet.</p> + +<p>I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended +me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big +and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my +delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 145 -->In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and +among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life.</p> + +<p>It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far +this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou +art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou +watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not +having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou +deservedest so richly.</p> + +<p>"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and +rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth +waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger, +it was.... But you are not listening to me."</p> + +<p>"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga."</p> + +<p>"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?"</p> + +<p>"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at +the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees, +brothers of the <i>zeg-zeg</i>, the spines of which pierced the head of +your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our +prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of +Paradise;<a name="FNanchor_Q_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> +and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse +its shade in a century.</p> + +<p>"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the +caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to +ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great +snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in +glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash.</p> + +<p>"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gâo the deathlike lull +of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of +the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep +along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies +on the banks, <!-- Page 146 -->and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of +the mud flats.</p> + +<p>"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the +morning; and to fête the sun setting behind the black branches of the +<i>douldouls</i>, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our +hands, as we sang the Sonrhaï hymn.</p> + +<p>"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must +not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you +like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who +must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold +ribbons he had on his white sleeves."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay +no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these +things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gâo, the Niger makes a +bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with +large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking. +Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the +morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum, +boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder—boum-boum, +boum-baraboum—and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds, +aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum +trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely +flurried by the breeze that was springing up.</p> + +<p>"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook +the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that +the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was +dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening.</p> + +<p>"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down, +manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon +leapt ashore.</p> + +<p>"The oldest, a French <i>marabout</i>, with a great white burnous, who knew +our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my +father advanced and told him that it was he, the <i>marabout</i> told him +that the commandant <!-- Page 147 -->of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a +mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that +she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage +towards Ansango.</p> + +<p>"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives +against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but +for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the +resources of Gâo, including the forge, at the disposition of the +French chief, for repairing the gunboat.</p> + +<p>"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked +at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little +bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear.</p> + +<p>"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice.</p> + +<p>"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,' +I replied, vexed at his informality.</p> + +<p>"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you +give me the flowers that you have around your neck?'</p> + +<p>"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He +kissed me. The peace was made.</p> + +<p>"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and +strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the +river.</p> + +<p>"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief +mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away +before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy +soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.'</p> + +<p>"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend.</p> + +<p>"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little +companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most +beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that +had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great +cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I +went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay +with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples +on the surface of the dark waves.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 148 -->That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French +officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his +head: 'Caw,—caw—the shade of the gum trees of Gâo—caw, caw—will +avail nothing tomorrow night—caw, caw—to the white chief nor to his +escort.'</p> + +<p>"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers. +They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage +of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing.</p> + +<p>"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority:</p> + +<p>'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that +the shade of the gum trees of Gâo would be fatal to your chief in the +coming night!...'</p> + +<p>"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the +sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added:</p> + +<p>"'And to his escort!'</p> + +<p>"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating +in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic +entered.</p> + +<p>"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like +angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave +this evening.'</p> + +<p>"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by +too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the +week. It will be better to start in the morning.'</p> + +<p>"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my +dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he +said gravely:</p> + +<p>"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you +wish it.'</p> + +<p>"And he kissed me.</p> + +<p>"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left +the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who +waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the +rickety jetty, I <!-- Page 149 -->waited, watching the water flow by, until the last +sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into +the night."<a name="FNanchor_R_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_16"><sup>[16]</sup></a></p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga paused.</p> + +<p>"That was the last night of Gâo. While I was sleeping and the moon was +still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant. +Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can +never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found +me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my +little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who +escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among +them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men. +Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of +Gâo beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gâo had been razed +by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their gunboat.</p> + +<p>"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being +pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp +disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen, +in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan +Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhât. At first, because they went +more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was +an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the +men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick +for having refused to go farther.</p> + +<p>"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead +as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each +time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one +of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a +little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me +turn <!-- Page 150 -->around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor +arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed +in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from +a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue +steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later, +driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears, +trying to regain my place in the caravan.</p> + +<p>"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg +of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, which rules +over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man. +That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who +was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it +is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not +even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhaï Emperors, +of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed +Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen +hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand <i>mithkal</i> of gold in the +days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to +the western sea, and when Gâo raised her cupola, sister of the sky, +above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the +tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XVI"><!-- Chapter 16--></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE SILVER HAMMER</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Je ne m'en défends plus et je ne veux qu' aller</i><br /></span> +<span><i>Reconnaître la place où je dois l'immoler</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i16">(Andromaque.)</span> +</div></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>It was this sort of a night when what I am going to tell you now +happened. Toward five o'clock the sky clouded over and a sense of the +coming storm trembled in the stifling air.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 151 -->I shall always remember it. It was the fifth of January, 1897.</p> + +<p>King Hiram and Galé lay heavily on the matting of my room. Leaning on +my elbows beside Tanit-Zerga in the rock-hewn window, I spied the +advance tremors of lightning.</p> + +<p>One by one they rose, streaking the now total darkness with their +bluish stripes. But no burst of thunder followed. The storm did not +attain the peaks of Ahaggar. It passed without breaking, leaving us in +our gloomy bath of sweat.</p> + +<p>"I am going to bed," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>I have said that her room was above mine. Its bay window was some +thirty feet above that before which I lay.</p> + +<p>She took Galé in her arms. But King Hiram would have none of it. +Digging his four paws into the matting, he whined in anger and +uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep +here."</p> + +<p>So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of +responsibility in the events which followed.</p> + +<p>Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The +whole mountain was shrouded in silence.</p> + +<p>It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from +my meditation.</p> + +<p>King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn +claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now +wanted to go out. He was determined to go out.</p> + +<p>"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!"</p> + +<p>I tried to pull him away from the door.</p> + +<p>I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw.</p> + +<p>Then I sat down on the divan.</p> + +<p>My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange +abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only +one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of +Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps +a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen +tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as +this?"</p> + +<p>Immediately I made a resolve.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 152 -->If I open the door," I thought, "King Hiram will leap down the +corridor and I shall have great difficulty in following him. I must +find some other way."</p> + +<p>The shade of the window was worked by means of a small cord. I pulled +it down. Then I tied it into a firm leash which I fastened to the +metal collar of the leopard.</p> + +<p>I half opened the door.</p> + +<p>"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly."</p> + +<p>I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who +dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly +before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost +burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was +casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here +on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the +leopard.</p> + +<p>At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained +ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy.</p> + +<p>Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor. +Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat +room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear +presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to +take me.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly +glimmering red and green, appeared before us.</p> + +<p>The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose +window was cut.</p> + +<p>I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me +the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when +I had found myself in the presence of Antinea.</p> + +<p>"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he +would not give a dangerously loud growl.</p> + +<p>I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell +upon the floor, green and red.</p> + +<p>A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better +control of King Hiram who was getting nervous.</p> + +<p>The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was +completely dark. But the garden on which it gave <!-- Page 153 -->shone under a +clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not +break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter.</p> + +<p>I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my +knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my +goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means.</p> + +<p>Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices.</p> + +<p>King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash. +He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices +seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among +the scattered cushions.</p> + +<p>My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of +cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had +stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound.</p> + +<p>Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I +opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered +feebly.</p> + +<p>"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet."</p> + +<p>And I put my arms about his powerful neck.</p> + +<p>I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook +with happiness.</p> + +<p>In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the +middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and +drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems.</p> + +<p>They were the white Tuareg.</p> + +<p>A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them. +Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow.</p> + +<p>The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light +and shadow, made a strange etching.</p> + +<p>They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous +voices.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 154 -->Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the +impatient little beast.</p> + +<p>"Go, boy."</p> + +<p>He leapt with a sharp yelp.</p> + +<p>And what I had foreseen happened.</p> + +<p>The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white +Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him +into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of +another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was +standing.</p> + +<p>"There!" I thought.</p> + +<p>The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One +realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon +the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in +one direction, the copper cups, in the other.</p> + +<p>Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with +low oaths.</p> + +<p>I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into +the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor, +down which King Hiram had just disappeared.</p> + +<p>At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which +seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way.</p> + +<p>One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I +was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated.</p> + +<p>"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back +politely to my room."</p> + +<p>The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber +of Antinea.</p> + +<p>The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the +right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left +was dim.</p> + +<p>Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a <i>guignol</i> +is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its +opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I +noticed such a <i>guignol</i> <!-- Page 155 -->at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat +in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm.</p> + +<p>There I could see and hear everything.</p> + +<p>I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room, +except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow, +but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming +stuffs and furs.</p> + +<p>Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver +tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her +feet, licking them madly.</p> + +<p>The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the +other on his forehead, saluting.</p> + +<p>Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man.</p> + +<p>"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be +alone."</p> + +<p>"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly.</p> + +<p>"The doors were not closed, then?"</p> + +<p>The slave did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Shall I take him away?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, +expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply.</p> + +<p>"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea.</p> + +<p>She tapped nervously on the little silver tray.</p> + +<p>"What is the captain doing?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa +answered.</p> + +<p>"Has he said nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer."</p> + +<p>Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Did he say nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"No, mistress," said the man.</p> + +<p>A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead.</p> + +<p>"Go get him," she said brusquely.</p> + +<p>Bowing, the Targa left the room.</p> + +<p>I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had +he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He +had wanted to see me and been unable to!</p> + +<p>My eyes never left Antinea's.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 156 -->She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first +interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not +a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic. +Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight +shoulders and her bare arms.</p> + +<p>Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did +not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering +Cleopatra.</p> + +<p>Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her.</p> + +<p>An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the +wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw +her nude.</p> + +<p>A splendid and bitter sight!—A woman who thinks herself alone, +standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to +subdue!</p> + +<p>The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible +columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in +which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me, +standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror.</p> + +<p>Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into +the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such +a transformation to believe it possible.</p> + +<p>Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa.</p> + +<p>He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression +of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt +that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never.</p> + +<p>He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture +inviting him to be seated.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send +for you at so late an hour."</p> + +<p>Morhange did not move an eyelash.</p> + +<p>"Have you considered it well?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply.</p> + +<p>I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to <!-- Page 157 -->continue +smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings.</p> + +<p>"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is +to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise +to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your +captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?"</p> + +<p>"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said +Morhange simply.</p> + +<p>I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at +Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing +the one wish he had expressed.</p> + +<p>But Antinea continued calmly:</p> + +<p>"That is why I sent for you—to tell you that you are going to see him +again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me +even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me +to your will—I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however +that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you +satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile.</p> + +<p>"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for +the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I +shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time, +to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my +government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers +and several cannon."</p> + +<p>Antinea was standing up, very pale.</p> + +<p>"What are you saying?"</p> + +<p>"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First +threats, then promises."</p> + +<p>Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her +with a sort of grave pity.</p> + +<p>"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally.</p> + +<p>"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied.</p> + +<p>"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine."</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 158 -->I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm.</p> + +<p>Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my +companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face.</p> + +<p>He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together +with a strange mixture of force and gentleness.</p> + +<p>King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes +of Morhange held him fascinated.</p> + +<p>"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was +overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply.</p> + +<p>"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he +would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name."</p> + +<p>So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From +the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to +him.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said.</p> + +<p>How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless +for the first time!</p> + +<p>"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I +hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your +life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...."</p> + +<p>"I have remembered all that," said Morhange.</p> + +<p>"A last time," she repeated.</p> + +<p>The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely +noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of +worldliness remained.</p> + +<p>"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking.</p> + +<p>Morhange was not even looking at her.</p> + +<p>"As you will," she said.</p> + +<p>Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa +appeared.</p> + +<p>"Leave the room!"</p> + +<p>Morhange, his head held high, went out.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 159 -->Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom +I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl.</p> + +<p>So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped +out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in +the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her +mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... <i>O tremblant +coeur humain</i>....</p> + +<p>Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the +langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice, +the voice which is murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it."</p> + +<p>My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft, +nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems +as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant +censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream:</p> + +<p>"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it."</p> + +<p>Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in +her great eyes.</p> + +<p>Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a +little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong +with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she +struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver +head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death....</p> + +<p>I see nothing more....</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XVII"><!-- Chapter 17--></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>I awakened in my room. The sun, already at its zenith, filled the +place with unbearable light and heat.</p> + +<p>The first thing I saw, on opening my eyes, was the shade, ripped down, +lying in the middle of the floor. Then, confusedly, the night's events +began to come back to me.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 160 -->My head felt stupid and heavy. My mind wandered. My memory seemed +blocked. "I went out with the leopard, that is certain. That red mark +on my forefinger shows how he strained at the leash. My knees are +still dusty. I remember creeping along the wall in the room where the +white Tuareg were playing at dice. That was the minute after King +Hiram had leapt past them. After that ... oh, Morhange and Antinea.... +And then?"</p> + +<p>I recalled nothing more. I recalled nothing more. But something must +have happened, something which I could not remember.</p> + +<p>I was uneasy. I wanted to go back, yet it seemed as if I were afraid +to go. I have never felt anything more painful than those conflicting +emotions.</p> + +<p>"It is a long way from here to Antinea's apartments. I must have been +very sound asleep not to have noticed when they brought me back—for +they have brought me back."</p> + +<p>I stopped trying to think it out. My head ached too much.</p> + +<p>"I must have air," I murmured. "I am roasting here; it will drive me +mad."</p> + +<p>I had to see someone, no matter whom. Mechanically, I walked toward +the library.</p> + +<p>I found M. Le Mesge in a transport of delirious joy. The Professor was +engaged in opening an enormous bale, carefully sewed in a brown +blanket.</p> + +<p>"You come at a good time, sir," he cried, on seeing me enter. "The +magazines have just arrived."</p> + +<p>He dashed about in feverish haste. Presently a stream of pamphlets and +magazines, blue, green, yellow and salmon, was bursting from an +opening in the bale.</p> + +<p>"Splendid, splendid!" he cried, dancing with joy. "Not too late, +either; here are the numbers for October fifteenth. We must give a +vote of thanks to good Ameur."</p> + +<p>His good spirits were contagious.</p> + +<p>"There is a good Turkish merchant who subscribes to all the +interesting magazines of the two continents. He sends them on by +Rhadamès to a destination which he little suspects. Ah, here are the +French ones."</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge ran feverishly over, the tables of contents.</p> + +<p>"Internal politics: articles by Francis Charmes, Anatole +<!-- Page 161 -->Leroy-Beaulieu, d'Haussonville on the Czar's trip to Paris. Look, a +study by Avenel of wages in the Middle Ages. And verse, verses of the +young poets, Fernand Gregh, Edmond Haraucourt. Ah, the resumé of a +book by Henry de Castries on Islam. That may be interesting.... Take +what you please."</p> + +<p>Joy makes people amiable and M. Le Mesge was really delirious with it.</p> + +<p>A puff of breeze came from the window. I went to the balustrade and, +resting my elbows on it, began to run through a number of the <i>Revue +des Deux Mondes</i>.</p> + +<p>I did not read, but flipped over the pages, my eyes now on the lines +of swarming little black characters, now on the rocky basin which lay +shivering, pale pink, under the declining sun.</p> + +<p>Suddenly my attention became fixed. There was a strange coincidence +between the text and the landscape.</p> + +<p>"In the sky overhead were only light shreds of cloud, like bits of +white ash floating up from burnt-out logs. The sun fell over a circle +of rocky peaks, silhouetting their severe lines against the azure sky. +From on high, a great sadness and gentleness poured down into the +lonely enclosure, like a magic drink into a +deep cup...."<a name="FNanchor_S_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_17"><sup>[17]</sup></a></p> + +<p>I turned the pages feverishly. My mind seemed to be clearing.</p> + +<p>Behind me, M. Le Mesge, deep in an article, voiced his opinions in +indignant growls.</p> + +<p>I continued reading:</p> + +<p>"On all sides a magnificent view spread out before us in the raw +light. The chain of rocks, clearly visible in their barren desolation +which stretched to the very summit, lay stretched out like some great +heap of gigantic, unformed things left by some primordial race of +Titans to stupefy human beings. Overturned towers...."</p> + +<p>"It is shameful, downright shameful," the Professor was repeating.</p> + +<p>"Overturned towers, crumbling citadels, cupolas fallen in, broken +pillars, mutilated colossi, prows of vessels, thighs of <!-- Page 162 -->monsters, +bones of titans,—this mass, impassable with its ridges and gullies, +seemed the embodiment of everything huge and tragic. So clear were the +distances...."</p> + +<p>"Downright shameful," M. Le Mesge kept on saying in exasperation, +thumping his fist on the table.</p> + +<p>"So clear were the distances that I could see, as if I had it under my +eyes, infinitely enlarged, every contour of the rock which Violante +had shown me through the window with the gesture of a creator...."</p> + +<p>Trembling, I closed the magazine. At my feet, now red, I saw the rock +which Antinea had pointed out to me the day of our first interview, +huge, steep, overhanging the reddish brown garden.</p> + +<p>"That is my horizon," she had said.</p> + +<p>M. Le Mesge's excitement had passed all bounds.</p> + +<p>"It is worse than shameful; it is infamous."</p> + +<p>I almost wanted to strangle him into silence. He seized my arm.</p> + +<p>"Read that, sir; and, although you don't know a great deal about the +subject, you will see that this article on Roman Africa is a miracle +of misinformation, a monument of ignorance. And it is signed ... do +you know by whom it is signed?"</p> + +<p>"Leave me alone," I said brutally.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is signed Gaston Boissier. Yes, sir! Gaston Boissier, grand +officer of the Legion of Honor, lecturer at the <i>Ecole Normale +Supérieure</i>, permanent secretary of the French Academy, member of the +Academy of Inscriptions and Literature, one of those who once ruled +out the subject of my thesis ... one of those ... ah, poor university, +ah, poor France!"</p> + +<p>I was no longer listening. I had begun to read again. My forehead was +covered with sweat. But it seemed as if my head had been cleared like +a room when a window is opened; memories were beginning to come back +like doves winging their way home to the dovecote.</p> + +<p>"At that moment, an irrepressible tremor shook her whole body; her +eyes dilated as if some terrible sight had filled them with horror.</p> + +<p>"'Antonello,' she murmured.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 163 -->And for seconds, she was unable to say another word.</p> + +<p>"I looked at her in mute anguish and the suffering which drew her dear +lips together seemed also to clutch at my heart. The vision which was +in her eyes passed into mine, and I saw again the thin white face of +Antonello, and the quick quivering of his eyelids, the waves of agony +which seized his long worn body and shook it like a reed."</p> + +<p>I threw the magazine upon the table.</p> + +<p>"That is it," I said.</p> + +<p>To cut the pages, I had used the knife with which M. Le Mesge had cut +the cords of the bale, a short ebony-handled dagger, one of those +daggers that the Tuareg wear in a bracelet sheath against the upper +left arm.</p> + +<p>I slipped it into the big pocket of my flannel dolman and walked +toward the door.</p> + +<p>I was about to cross the threshold when I heard M. Le Mesge call me.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Saint Avit! Monsieur de Saint Avit!</p> + +<p>"I want to ask you something, please."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing important. You know that I have to mark the labels for the +red marble hall...."</p> + +<p>I walked toward the table.</p> + +<p>"Well, I forgot to ask M. Morhange, at the beginning, the date and +place of his birth. After that, I had no chance. I did not see him +again. So I am forced to turn to you. Perhaps you can tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I can," I said very calmly.</p> + +<p>He took a large white card from a box which contained several and +dipped his pen.</p> + +<p>"Number 54 ... Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Jean-Marie-François Morhange."</p> + +<p>While I dictated, one hand resting on the table, I noticed on my cuff +a stain, a little stain, reddish brown.</p> + +<p>"Morhange," repeated M. Le Mesge, finishing the lettering of my +friend's name. "Born at...?"</p> + +<p>"Villefranche."</p> + +<p>"Villefranche, Rhône. What date?"</p> + +<p>"The fourteenth of October, 1859."</p> + +<p>"The fourteenth of October, 1859. Good. Died at Ahaggar, <!-- Page 164 -->the fifth of +January, 1897.... There, that is done. A thousand thanks, sir, for +your kindness."</p> + +<p>"You are welcome."</p> + +<p>I left M. Le Mesge.</p> + +<p>My mind, thenceforth, was well made up; and, as I said, I was +perfectly calm. Nevertheless, when I had taken leave of M. Le Mesge, I +felt the need of waiting a few minutes before executing my decision.</p> + +<p>First I wandered through the corridors; then, finding myself near my +room, I went to it. It was still intolerably hot. I sat down on my +divan and began to think.</p> + +<p>The dagger in my pocket bothered me. I took it out and laid it on the +floor.</p> + +<p>It was a good dagger, with a diamond-shaped blade, and with a collar +of orange leather between the blade and the handle.</p> + +<p>The sight of it recalled the silver hammer. I remembered how easily it +fitted into my hand when I struck....</p> + +<p>Every detail of the scene came back to me with incomparable vividness. +But I did not even shiver. It seemed as if my determination to kill +the instigator of the murder permitted me peacefully to evoke its +brutal details.</p> + +<p>If I reflected over my deed, it was to be surprised at it, not to +condemn myself.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said to myself, "I have killed this Morhange, who was once a +baby, who, like all the others, cost his mother so much trouble with +his baby sicknesses. I have put an end to his life, I have reduced to +nothingness the monument of love, of tears, of trials overcome and +pitfalls escaped, which constitutes a human existence. What an +extraordinary adventure!"</p> + +<p>That was all. No fear, no remorse, none of that Shakespearean horror +after the murder, which, today, sceptic though I am and blasé and +utterly, utterly disillusioned, sets me shuddering whenever I am alone +in a dark room.</p> + +<p>"Come," I thought. "It's time. Time to finish it up."</p> + +<p>I picked up the dagger. Before putting it in my pocket, I went through +the motion of striking. All was well. The dagger fitted into my hand.</p> + +<p>I had been through Antinea's apartment only when <!-- Page 165 -->guided, the first +time by the white Targa, the second time, by the leopard. Yet I found +the way again without trouble. Just before coming to the door with the +rose window, I met a Targa.</p> + +<p>"Let me pass," I ordered. "Your mistress has sent for me." The man +obeyed, stepping back.</p> + +<p>Soon a dim melody came to my ears. I recognized the sound of a +<i>rebaza</i>, the violin with a single string, played by the Tuareg women. +It was Aguida playing, squatting as usual at the feet of her mistress. +The three other women were also squatted about her. Tanit-Zerga was +not there.</p> + +<p>Oh! Since that was the last time I saw her, let, oh, let me tell you +of Antinea, how she looked in that supreme moment.</p> + +<p>Did she feel the danger hovering over her and did she wish to brave it +by her surest artifices? I had in mind the slender; unadorned body, +without rings, without jewels, which I had pressed to my heart the +night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me, +adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen!</p> + +<p>The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On +her head was the great gold <i>pschent</i> of Egyptian gods and kings; +emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing +and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin <i>schenti</i>, +embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel. +At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare +arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as +if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the <i>pschent</i> +streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her +determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat.</p> + +<p>She smiled as I entered.</p> + +<p>"I was expecting you," she said simply.</p> + +<p>I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before +her.</p> + +<p>She looked at me ironically.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm.</p> + +<p>I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my +pocket.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 166 -->I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike.</p> + +<p>"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the +red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women, +whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring.</p> + +<p>She turned to me.</p> + +<p>"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to +my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than +with the dagger."</p> + +<p>"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are +you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes +were wide with terror.</p> + +<p>"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the +moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...."</p> + +<p>"Did—did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling.</p> + +<p>"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done +nothing else all your life."</p> + +<p>"Like little Kaine," I murmured.</p> + +<p>She smiled in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least +Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand myself, very well."</p> + +<p>She looked at me with amused curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Antinea," I said.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one +question?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It was dark, was it not, in the room where <i>he</i> was?"</p> + +<p>"Very dark. I had to lead you to the bed where he lay asleep."</p> + +<p>"He <i>was</i> asleep, you are sure?"</p> + +<p>"I said so."</p> + +<p>"He—did not die instantly, did he?"</p> + +<p>"No. I know exactly when he died; two minutes after you struck him and +fled with a shriek."</p> + +<p>"Then surely <i>he</i> could not have known?"</p> + +<p>"Known what?"</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 167 -->That it was I who—who held the hammer."</p> + +<p>"He might not have known it, indeed," Antinea said. "But he did know."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"He did know ... because I told him," she said, staring at me with +magnificent audacity.</p> + +<p>"And," I murmured, "he—he believed it?"</p> + +<p>"With the help of my explanation, he recognized your shriek. If he had +not realized that you were his murderer, the affair would not have +interested me," she finished with a scornful little smile.</p> + +<p>Four steps, I said, separated me from Antinea. I sprang forward. But, +before I reached her, I was struck to the floor.</p> + +<p>King Hiram had leapt at my throat.</p> + +<p>At the same moment I heard the calm, haughty voice of Antinea:</p> + +<p>"Call the men," she commanded.</p> + +<p>A second later I was released from the leopard's clutch. The six white +Tuareg had surrounded me and were trying to bind me.</p> + +<p>I am fairly strong and quick. I was on my feet in a second. One of my +enemies lay on the floor, ten feet away, felled by a well-placed blow +on the jaw. Another was gasping under my knee. That was the last time +I saw Antinea. She stood erect, both hands resting on her ebony +scepter, watching the struggle with a smile of contemptuous interest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I gave a loud cry and loosed the hold I had on my victim. A +cracking in my left arm: one of the Tuareg had seized it and twisted +until my shoulder was dislocated.</p> + +<p>When I completely lost consciousness, I was being carried down the +corridor by two white phantoms, so bound that I could not move a +muscle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<!-- Page 168 --> +<h2><a name="XVIII"><!-- Chapter 18--></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE FIRE-FLIES</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my +room.</p> + +<p>A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay.</p> + +<p>"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Sh! Yes, it is I."</p> + +<p>I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my +shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed +mind.</p> + +<p>"Oh, little one, if you knew!"</p> + +<p>"I know," she said.</p> + +<p>I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a +fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me.</p> + +<p>"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get me +away from here."</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at the +door."</p> + +<p>"Take me away; save me," I repeated.</p> + +<p>"That is what I came for," she said simply.</p> + +<p>I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk +tunic. A plain white <i>haik</i> was wrapped about her; and she had drawn +one corner of it over her head.</p> + +<p>"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice.</p> + +<p>"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gâo, the +village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the +green water.</p> + +<p>"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated, +"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared +speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of +<i>her</i>.... But you, you wanted to kill her."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 169 -->I gave a low moan.</p> + +<p>"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm."</p> + +<p>"Dislocated it anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Let me see."</p> + +<p>With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, +Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?"</p> + +<p>"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular +line halved its blue opening.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. +A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the +opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound.</p> + +<p>She came back to me.</p> + +<p>"How can we escape?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window.</p> + +<p>I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching +for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had +dashed himself.</p> + +<p>"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet from +here to the ground."</p> + +<p>"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strong +rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is +quite new."</p> + +<p>"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!"</p> + +<p>"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are. +Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of +the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of +them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight.</p> + +<p>"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. I +can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest."</p> + +<p>"And you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and +follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands +too much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gâo, when I was +just a child, I used to <!-- Page 170 -->climb almost as high as this in the gum trees +to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to +climb down."</p> + +<p>"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way +through the barriers?"</p> + +<p>"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "except +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea."</p> + +<p>"Then?"</p> + +<p>"There are the camels of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on +his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below +us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will +be well fed when we start."</p> + +<p>"But...." I still protested.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to +see Gâo once again, Gâo with its blue gum-trees and its green water."</p> + +<p>I felt myself blushing.</p> + +<p>"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of +the desert than stay here. Let us start."</p> + +<p>"Tut!" she said. "Not yet."</p> + +<p>She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will +have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time."</p> + +<p>She sat silent, her <i>haik</i> wrapped completely about her dark little +figure. Was she praying? Perhaps.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The +moon had turned.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I +tried not to tremble.</p> + +<p>Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga +began to speak:</p> + +<p>"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here +is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it +pressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It is +tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against +the bumping and scraping."</p> + +<p>I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the <!-- Page 171 -->sill of the +window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks +refreshed me.</p> + +<p>I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket.</p> + +<p>"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You +will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and +follow you."</p> + +<p>She held my hand a moment.</p> + +<p>"Now go," she murmured.</p> + +<p>I went.</p> + +<p>I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with +vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, +against the perfectly smooth wall.</p> + +<p>"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have been +hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am +stopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but +it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove +with my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. +I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I was +down.</p> + +<p>Immediately I began to get nervous again.</p> + +<p>I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, +I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of +the mountain, and put my foot on it.</p> + +<p>Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it.</p> + +<p>One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky +night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their +pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope."</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side.</p> + +<p>I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let +go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks.</p> + +<p>"Give it to me," he repeated with authority.</p> + +<p>And he took it from my hands.</p> + +<p>I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great +dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, <!-- Page 172 -->with a dislocated +shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? +What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding +the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much +better than I had been able to do.</p> + +<p>A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form.</p> + +<p>"There," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his +powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let +slack, slapped back against the rock.</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned.</p> + +<p>He put his hand roughly over her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly."</p> + +<p>He seized her arm. Then he turned to me.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said in an imperious tone.</p> + +<p>I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teeth +chattering with terror.</p> + +<p>We reached a little cave.</p> + +<p>"Go in," said the Targa.</p> + +<p>He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully +chewing his cud.</p> + +<p>"The little one is not stupid," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to +the animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. +But she is rattle-brained."</p> + +<p>He held the torch nearer the camel.</p> + +<p>"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. No +water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you +would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!"</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa +with a mixture of terror and hope.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I can +explain to you."</p> + +<p>When I was beside him, he said:</p> + +<p>"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as long +as possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may be +that you will not find a well for three hundred miles.</p> + +<p>"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat. +Not many, for water is much more precious. <!-- Page 173 -->Here also is a carbine, +your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. And +there is this."</p> + +<p>He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent over +it; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Toward Idelès, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me," +I said.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much," he murmured.</p> + +<p>Then he added coldly:</p> + +<p>"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have been +caught and massacred."</p> + +<p>"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is under +the control of Antinea. You must go south."</p> + +<p>"Then we shall go south."</p> + +<p>"By what route?"</p> + +<p>"Why, by Silet and Timissao."</p> + +<p>The Targa again shook his head.</p> + +<p>"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a good +road, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar with +it. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells."</p> + +<p>"Well, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road from +Timissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from here +toward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That is +the boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the Awellimiden +Tuareg."</p> + +<p>The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in:</p> + +<p>"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried me +into slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of the +Awellimiden."</p> + +<p>"Be still, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh.</p> + +<p>Then addressing me, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The +Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French. +Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other +hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow +you into their country. What <!-- Page 174 -->I have said, is said. You must rejoin +the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the +Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach +the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy +of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi +is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross +the Tanezruft."</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft +is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would +shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He +knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or +become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is +the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have +to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of +the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route.</p> + +<p>"You can stay here," he added.</p> + +<p>"My choice is made, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I announced.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail +begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It +ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them +too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the +route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the +little one. Two make less noise than four."</p> + +<p>We went a long way in silence. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his +camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep +gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a +thick tangle of rocks and briars.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light +filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had stopped.</p> + +<p>"Get down," he said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 175 -->A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a +copper cup with the water.</p> + +<p>"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents +of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset."</p> + +<p>He looked over the saddle girths.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will +be here. You must be out of sight."</p> + +<p>I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and +took his hand.</p> + +<p>"Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing +this?"</p> + +<p>He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, why?"</p> + +<p>He replied with dignity:</p> + +<p>"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pity +take the place of duty. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permission +to the advantage of one who saved his life."</p> + +<p>"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of +Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. +"It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain +met his death."</p> + +<p>I was horrified at this logical reply.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the +little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is +coming."</p> + +<p>I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew +back.</p> + +<p>"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes +of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you +nor for anyone else."</p> + +<p>And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not +protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which <!-- Page 176 -->still sounds in my +ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to +you."</p> + +<p>I looked at him uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. +"For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the +help of Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"You will come back," the Targa replied.</p> + +<p>He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock.</p> + +<p>"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now, +but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world with +the same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow you +everywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you will +pass again through the corridor through which you have just come."</p> + +<p>"Be still, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice of +Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh.</p> + +<p>He sneered.</p> + +<p>"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. She +knows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti."</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead.</p> + +<p>"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhât and Rhadamès eight +years ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make him +forget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and he +succeeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back to +his country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day, +when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tattered +creature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for the +entrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, come +back. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall."</p> + +<p>The Targa smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear. +But enough of this. Mount your camel."</p> + +<p>I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated be<!-- Page 177 -->hind me, put +her little arms around me. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was still holding the +bridle.</p> + +<p>"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violet +sky of the southern horizon. "You see the <i>gour</i> there; that is your +way. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise. +Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not stray +from the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days."</p> + +<p>The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from the +south.</p> + +<p>The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand.</p> + +<p>"Now go."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you, +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell."</p> + +<p>I heard his voice replying in the distance:</p> + +<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>, Lieutenant de Saint Avit."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XIX"><!-- Chapter 19--></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE TANEZRUFT</h3> + + +<p> </p> + +<p>During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five +leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the <i>gour</i> which +the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher +against the paling sky.</p> + +<p>The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts +of <i>retem</i>, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left.</p> + +<p>I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering:</p> + +<p>"Stop the camel."</p> + +<p>At first I did not understand.</p> + +<p>"Stop him," she repeated.</p> + +<p>Her hand pulled sharply at my right arm.</p> + +<p>I obeyed. The camel slackened his pace with very bad grace.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 178 -->At first I heard nothing. Then a very slight noise, a dry rustling +behind us.</p> + +<p>"Stop the camel," Tanit-Zerga commanded. "It is not worth while to +make him kneel."</p> + +<p>A little gray creature bounded on the camel. The mehari set out again +at his best speed.</p> + +<p>"Let him go," said Tanit-Zerga. "Galé has jumped on."</p> + +<p>I felt a tuft of bristly hair under my arm. The mongoose had followed +our footsteps and rejoined us. I heard the quick panting of the brave +little creature becoming gradually slower and slower.</p> + +<p>"I am happy," murmured Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had not been mistaken. We reached the <i>gour</i> as the +sun rose. I looked back. The Atakor was nothing more than a monstrous +chaos amid the night mists which trailed the dawn. It was no longer +possible to pick out from among the nameless peaks, the one on which +Antinea was still weaving her passionate plots.</p> + +<p>You know what the Tanezruft is, the "plain of plains," abandoned, +uninhabitable, the country of hunger and thirst. We were then starting +on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the +south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works +under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without +vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast."</p> + +<p>Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this +rocky desert. Oh, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh did not exaggerate in saying that +no one would dream of following us into that country.</p> + +<p>Great patches of oblivion still refused to clear away. Memories chased +each other incoherently about my head. A sentence came back to me +textually: "It seemed to Dick that he had never, since the beginning +of original darkness, done anything at all save jolt through the air." +I gave a little laugh. "In the last few hours," I thought, "I have +been heaping up literary situations. A while ago, a hundred feet above +the ground, I was Fabrice of <i>La Chartreuse de Parme</i> beside his +Italian dungeon. Now, here on my camel, I am Dick of <i>The Light That +Failed</i>, crossing the desert to meet his com<!-- Page 179 -->panions in arms." I +chuckled again; then shuddered. I thought of the preceding night, of +the Orestes of <i>Andromaque</i> who agreed to sacrifice Pyrrhus. A +literary situation indeed....</p> + +<p>Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had reckoned eight days to get to the wooded +country of the Awellimiden, forerunners of the grassy steppes of the +Soudan. He knew well the worth of his beast. Tanit-Zerga had suddenly +given him a name, <i>El Mellen</i>, the white one, for the magnificent +mehari had an almost spotless coat. Once he went two days without +eating, merely picking up here and there a branch of an acacia tree +whose hideous white spines, four inches long, filled me with fear for +our friend's oesophagus. The wells marked out by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh +were indeed at the indicated spots, but we found nothing in them but a +burning yellow mud. It was enough for the camel, enough so that at the +end of the fifth day, thanks to prodigious self-control, we had used +up only one of our two water skins. Then we believed ourselves safe.</p> + +<p>Near one of these muddy puddles, I succeeded that day in shooting down +a little straight-horned desert gazelle. Tanit-Zerga skinned the beast +and we regaled ourselves with a delicious haunch. Meantime, little +Galé, who never ceased prying about the cracks in the rocks during our +mid-day halts in the heat, discovered an <i>ourane</i>, a sand crocodile, +five feet long, and made short work of breaking his neck. She ate so +much she could not budge. It cost us a pint of water to help her +digestion. We gave it with good grace, for we were happy. Tanit-Zerga +did not say so, but her joy at knowing that I was thinking no more of +the woman in the gold diadem and the emeralds was apparent. And +really, during those days, I hardly thought of her. I thought only of +the torrid heat to be avoided, of the water skins which, if you wished +to drink fresh water, had to be left for an hour in a cleft in the +rocks; of the intense joy which seized you when you raised to your +lips a leather goblet brimming with that life-saving water.... I can +say this with authority, with good authority, indeed; passion, +spiritual or physical, is a thing for those who have eaten and drunk +and rested.</p> + +<p>It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The frightful heat was +slackening. We had left a kind of rocky crevice where we <!-- Page 180 -->had had a +little nap. Seated on a huge rock, we were watching the reddening +west.</p> + +<p>I spread out the roll of paper on which Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh had marked +the stages of our journey as far as the road from the Soudan. I +realized again with joy that his itinerary was exact and that I had +followed it scrupulously.</p> + +<p>"The evening of the day after to-morrow," I said, "we shall be setting +out on the stage which will take us, by the next dawn, to the waters +at Telemsi. Once there, we shall not have to worry any more about +water."</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga's eyes danced in her thin face.</p> + +<p>"And Gâo?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We will be only a week from the Niger. And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh said +that at Telemsi, one reached a road overhung with mimosa."</p> + +<p>"I know the mimosa," she said. "They are the little yellow balls that +melt in your hand. But I like the caper flowers better. You will come +with me to Gâo. My father, Sonni-Azkia, was killed, as I told you, by +the Awellimiden. But my people must have rebuilt the villages. They +are used to that. You will see how you will be received."</p> + +<p>"I will go, Tanit-Zerga, I promise you. But you also, you must promise +me...."</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, I guess. You must take me for a little fool if you believe +me capable of speaking of things which might make trouble for my +friend."</p> + +<p>She looked at me as she spoke. Privation and great fatigue had +chiselled the brown face where her great eyes shone.... Since then, I +have had time to assemble the maps and compasses, and to fix forever +the spot where, for the first time, I understood the beauty of +Tanit-Zerga's eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a deep silence between us. It was she who broke it.</p> + +<p>"Night is coming. We must eat so as to leave as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>She stood up and went toward the rocks.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately, I heard her calling in an anguished voice that +sent a chill through me.</p> + +<p>"Come! Oh, come see!"</p> + +<p>With a bound, I was at her side.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 181 -->The camel," she murmured. "The camel!"</p> + +<p>I looked, and a deadly shudder seized me.</p> + +<p>Stretched out at full length, on the other side of the rocks, his pale +flanks knotted up by convulsive spasms, <i>El Mellen</i> lay in anguish.</p> + +<p>I need not say that we rushed to him in feverish haste. Of what <i>El +Mellen</i> was dying, I did not know, I never have known. All the mehara +are that way. They are at once the most enduring and the most delicate +of beasts. They will travel for six months across the most frightful +deserts, with little food, without water, and seem only the better for +it. Then, one day when nothing is the matter, they stretch out and +give you the slip with disconcerting ease.</p> + +<p>When Tanit-Zerga and I saw that there was nothing more to do, we stood +there without a word, watching his slackening spasms. When he breathed +his last, we felt that our life, as well as his, had gone.</p> + +<p>It was Tanit-Zerga who spoke first.</p> + +<p>"How far are we from the Soudan road?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We are a hundred and twenty miles from the springs of Telemsi," I +replied. "We could make thirty miles by going toward Iferouane; but +the wells are not marked on that route."</p> + +<p>"Then we must walk toward the springs of Telemsi," she said. "A +hundred and twenty miles, that makes seven days?"</p> + +<p>"Seven days at the least, Tanit-Zerga."</p> + +<p>"How far is it to the first well?"</p> + +<p>"Thirty-five miles."</p> + +<p>The little girl's face contracted somewhat. But she braced up quickly.</p> + +<p>"We must set out at once."</p> + +<p>"Set out on foot, Tanit-Zerga!"</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot. I marveled to see her so strong.</p> + +<p>"We must go," she repeated. "We are going to eat and drink and make +Galé eat and drink, for we cannot carry all the tins, and the water +skin is so heavy that we should not get three miles if we tried to +carry it. We will put a little water in one of the tins after emptying +it through a little hole. That will be enough for to-night's stage, +which will be eighteen miles without water. To-morrow we will set out +for <!-- Page 182 -->another eighteen miles and we will reach the wells marked on the +paper by Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<p>"Oh," I murmured sadly, "if my shoulder were only not this way, I +could carry the water skin."</p> + +<p>"It is as it is," said Tanit-Zerga.</p> + +<p>"You will take your carbine and two tins of meat. I shall take two +more and the one filled with water. Come. We must leave in an hour if +we wish to cover the eighteen miles. You know that when the sun is up, +the rocks are so hot we cannot walk."</p> + +<p>I leave you to imagine in what sad silence we passed that hour which +we had begun so happily and confidently. Without the little girl, I +believe I should have seated myself upon a rock and waited. Galé only +was happy.</p> + +<p>"We must not let her eat too much," said Tanit-Zerga. "She would not +be able to follow us. And to-morrow she must work. If she catches +another <i>ourane</i>, it will be for us." +<br /></p> + +<p>You have walked in the desert. You know how terrible the first hours +of the night are. When the moon comes up, huge and yellow, a sharp +dust seems to rise in suffocating clouds. You move your jaws +mechanically as if to crush the dust that finds its way into your +throat like fire. Then usually a kind of lassitude, of drowsiness, +follows. You walk without thinking. You forget where you are walking. +You remember only when you stumble. Of course you stumble often. But +anyway it is bearable. "The night is ending," you say, "and with it +the march. All in all, I am less tired than at the beginning." The +night ends, but then comes the most terrible hour of all. You are +perishing of thirst and shaking with cold. All the fatigue comes back +at once. The horrible breeze which precedes the dawn is no comfort. +Quite the contrary. Every time you stumble, you say, "The next misstep +will be the last."</p> + +<p>That is what people feel and say even when they know that in a few +hours they will have a good rest with food and water.</p> + +<p>I was suffering terribly. Every step jolted my poor shoulder. At one +time, I wanted to stop, to sit down. Then I looked at Tanit-Zerga. She +was walking ahead with her eyes almost <!-- Page 183 -->closed. Her expression was an +indefinable one of mingled suffering and determination. I closed my +own eyes and went on.</p> + +<p>Such was the first stage. At dawn we stopped in a hollow in the rocks. +Soon the heat forced us to rise to seek a deeper one. Tanit-Zerga did +not eat. Instead, she swallowed a little of her half can of water. She +lay drowsy all day. Galé ran about our rock giving plaintive little +cries.</p> + +<p>I am not going to tell you about the second march. It was more +horrible than anything you can imagine. I suffered all that it is +humanly possible to suffer in the desert. But already I began to +observe with infinite pity that my man's strength was outlasting the +nervous force of my little companion. The poor child walked on without +saying a word, chewing feebly one corner of her <i>haik</i> which she had +drawn over her face. Galé followed.</p> + +<p>The well toward which we were dragging ourselves was indicated on +Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh's paper by the one word <i>Tissaririn. Tissaririn</i> is +the plural of <i>Tissarirt</i> and means "two isolated trees."</p> + +<p>Day was dawning when finally I saw the two trees, two gum trees. +Hardly a league separated us from them. I gave a cry of joy.</p> + +<p>"Courage, Tanit-Zerga, there is the well."</p> + +<p>She drew her veil aside and I saw the poor anguished little face.</p> + +<p>"So much the better," she murmured, "because otherwise...."</p> + +<p>She could not even finish the sentence.</p> + +<p>We finished the last half mile almost at a run. We already saw the +hole, the opening of the well.</p> + +<p>Finally we reached it.</p> + +<p>It was empty.</p> + +<p>It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the +suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become +partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to +you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history +composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign +of Marengo." Obstin<!-- Page 184 -->ately I repeated to myself, "I have already said +that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's +charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only +twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces."</p> + +<p>I kept on repeating:</p> + +<p>"Twelve pieces."</p> + +<p>Then I fell into a sort of coma.</p> + +<p>I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I +opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which +burnt so.</p> + +<p>"Get up," she said. "We must go on."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. +It is noon."</p> + +<p>"We must go on," she repeated.</p> + +<p>Then I saw that she was delirious.</p> + +<p>She was standing erect. Her <i>haik</i> had fallen to the ground and little +Galé, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it.</p> + +<p>Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating:</p> + +<p>"We must go on."</p> + +<p>A little sense came back to me.</p> + +<p>"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head."</p> + +<p>"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gâo is over there, not far away. I +can feel it. I want to see Gâo again."</p> + +<p>I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that +all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me, +brought back my senses.</p> + +<p>"Gâo is just over there, isn't it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Her gleaming eyes became imploring.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear little girl. Gâo is there. But for God's sake lie down. The +sun is fearful."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gâo, Gâo!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gâo +again."</p> + +<p>She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine.</p> + +<p>"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see +Gâo again."</p> + +<p>"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet."</p> + +<p>"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where +there is water, at Gâo, where my father was a prince, there was.... +Well, one day, one feast day, there <!-- Page 185 -->came from the interior of the +country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask +and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag. +On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he +danced the <i>boussadilla</i>. I was in the first row, and because I had a +necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of +a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire +over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce +Kountas, of everything, and finally he said:</p> + +<p>"'Have no fear, little girl.'</p> + +<p>"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for +you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gâo gleaming +on the horizon, no longer a servile Gâo reduced to the rank of a +little Negro town, but the splendid Gâo of other days, the great +capital of the country of the blacks, Gâo reborn, with its mosque of +seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with +cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with +great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of +deliverance and of royalty.'"</p> + +<p>Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun +blazed on the <i>hamada</i>, burning it white.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry.</p> + +<p>"Gâo! There is Gâo!"</p> + +<p>I looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Gâo," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the +fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red +and white flowers. Gâo...."</p> + +<p>Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty +buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow. +Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly +before us.</p> + +<p>"Gâo!" I cried. "Gâo!"</p> + +<p>And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror. +Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch +the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 186 -->And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance +and of royalty."</p> + +<p>Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the +desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where +Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she +was to rest.</p> + +<p>When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear +little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew +the <i>haik</i> over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the +hollow.</p> + +<p>I had reckoned without Galé.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I +was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall +on the <i>haik</i>, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready +to spring, her eyes daring fire.</p> + +<p>"Galé!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her.</p> + +<p>She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig, +throwing the sand furiously aside.</p> + +<p>I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never +finish my task and that, even if I did, Galé would stay there and +disinter the body.</p> + +<p>My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty +desert. A moment later, Galé also slept her last sleep, curled up, as +I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress.</p> + +<p>When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled +sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert, +toward the south.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2><a name="XX"><!-- Chapter 20--></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<p>At the foot of the valley of the Mia, at the place where the jackal +had cried the night Saint-Avit told me he had killed Morhange, another +jackal, or perhaps the same one, howled again.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 187 -->Immediately I had a feeling that this night would see the +irremediable fulfilled.</p> + +<p>We were seated that evening, as before, on the poor veranda improvised +outside our dining-room. The floor was of plaster, the balustrade of +twisted branches; four posts supported a thatched roof.</p> + +<p>I have already said that from the veranda one could look far out over +the desert. As he finished speaking, Saint-Avit rose and stood leaning +his elbows on the railing. I followed him.</p> + +<p>"And then...." I said.</p> + +<p>He looked at me.</p> + +<p>"And then what? Surely you know what all the newspapers told—how, in +the country of the Awellimiden, I was found dying of hunger and thirst +by an expedition under the command of Captain Aymard, and taken to +Timbuctoo. I was delirious for a month afterward. I have never known +what I may have said during those spells of burning fever. You may be +sure the officers of the Timbuctoo Club did not feel it incumbent upon +them to tell me. When I told them of my adventures, as they are +related in the report of the Morhange—Saint-Avit Expedition, I could +see well enough from the cold politeness with which they received my +explanations, that the official version which I gave them differed at +certain points from the fragments which had escaped me in my delirium.</p> + +<p>"They did not press the matter. It remains understood that Captain +Morhange died from a sunstroke and that I buried him on the border of +the Tarhit watercourse, three marches from Timissao. Everybody can +detect that there are things missing in my story. Doubtless they guess +at some mysterious drama. But proofs are another matter. Because of +the impossibility of collecting them, they prefer to smother what +could only become a silly scandal. But now you know all the details as +well as I."</p> + +<p>"And—she?" I asked timidly.</p> + +<p>He smiled triumphantly. It was triumph at having led me to think no +longer of Morhange, or of his crime, the triumph of feeling that he +had succeeded in imbuing me with his own madness.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 188 -->Yes," he said. "She! For six years I have learned nothing more about +her. But I see her, I talk with her. I am thinking now how I shall +reenter her presence. I shall throw myself at her feet and say simply, +'Forgive me. I rebelled against your law. I did not know. But now I +know; and you see that, like Lieutenant Ghiberti, I have come back.'</p> + +<p>"'Family, honor, country,' said old Le Mesge, 'you will forget all for +her.' Old Le Mesge is a stupid man, but he speaks from experience. He +knows, he who has seen broken before Antinea the wills of the fifty +ghosts in the red marble hall.</p> + +<p>"And now, will you, in your turn, ask me 'What is this woman?' Do I +know myself? And besides, what difference does it make? What does her +past and the mystery of her origin matter to me; what does it matter +whether she is the true descendant of the god of the sea and the +sublime Lagides or the bastard of a Polish drunkard and a harlot of +the Marbeuf quarter?</p> + +<p>"At the time when I was foolish enough to be jealous of Morhange, +these questions might have made some difference to the ridiculous +self-esteem that civilized people mix up with passion. But I have held +Antinea's body in my arms. I no longer wish to know any other, nor if +the fields are in blossom, nor what will become of the human +spirit....</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to know. Or, rather, it is because I have too exact a +vision of that future, that I pretend to destroy myself in the only +destiny that is worth while: a nature unfathomed and virgin, a +mysterious love.</p> + +<p>"<i>A nature unfathomed and virgin</i>. I must explain myself. One winter +day, in a large city all streaked with the soot that falls from black +chimneys of factories and of those horrible houses in the suburbs, I +attended a funeral.</p> + +<p>"We followed the hearse in the mud. The church was new, damp and poor. +Aside from two or three people, relatives struck down by a dull +sorrow, everyone had just one idea: to find some pretext to get away. +Those who went as far as the cemetery were those who did not find an +excuse. I see the gray walls and the cypresses, those trees of sun and +shade, so beautiful in the country of southern France against the low +purple hills. I see the horrible undertaker's <!-- Page 189 -->men in greasy jackets +and shiny top hats. I see.... No, I'll stop; it's too horrible.</p> + +<p>"Near the wall, in a remote plot, a grave had been dug in frightful +yellow pebbly clay. It was there that they left the dead man whose +name I no longer remember.</p> + +<p>"While they were lowering the casket, I looked at my hands, those +hands which in that strangely lighted country had pressed the hands of +Antinea. A great pity for my body seized me, a great fear of what +threatened it in these cities of mud. 'So,' I said to myself, 'it may +be that this body, this dear body, will come to such an end! No, no, +my body, precious above all other treasures, I swear to you that I +will spare you that ignominy; you shall not rot under a registered +number in the filth of a suburban cemetery. Your brothers in love, the +fifty knights of orichalch, await you, mute and grave, in the red +marble hall. I shall take you back to them.'</p> + +<p>"A <i>mysterious love</i>. Shame to him who retails the secrets of his +loves. The Sahara lays its impassable barrier about Antinea; that is +why the most unreasonable requirements of this woman are, in reality, +more modest and chaste than your marriage will be, with its vulgar +public show, the bans, the invitations, the announcements telling an +evil-minded and joking people that after such and such an hour, on +such and such a day, you will have the right to violate your little +tupenny virgin.</p> + +<p>"I think that is all I have to tell you. No, there is still one thing +more. I told you a while ago about the red marble hall. South of +Cherchell, to the west of the Mazafran river, on a hill which in the +early morning, emerges from the mists of the Mitidja, there is a +mysterious stone pyramid. The natives call it, 'The Tomb of the +Christian.' That is where the body of Antinea's ancestress, that +Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, was laid to +rest. Though it is placed in the path of invasions, this tomb has kept +its treasure. No one has ever been able to discover the painted room +where the beautiful body reposes in a glass casket. All that the +ancestress has been able to do, the descendant will be able to surpass +in grim magnificence. In the center of the red marble hall, on the +rock whence comes the plaint of the <!-- Page 190 -->gloomy fountain, a platform is +reserved. It is there, on an orichalch throne, with the Egyptian +head-dress and the golden serpent on her brow and the trident of +Neptune in her hand, that the marvelous woman I have told you about +will be ensconced on that day when the hundred and twenty niches, +hollowed out in a circle around her throne, shall each have received +its willing prey.</p> + +<p>"When I left Ahaggar, you remember that it was niche number 55 that +was to be mine. Since then, I have never stopped calculating and I +conclude that it is in number 80 or 85 that I shall repose. But any +calculations based upon so fragile a foundation as a woman's whim may +be erroneous. That is why I am getting more and more nervous. 'I must +hurry,' I tell myself. 'I must hurry.'</p> + +<p>"I must hurry," I repeated, as if I were in a dream.</p> + +<p>He raised his head with an indefinable expression of joy. His hand +trembled with happiness when he shook mine.</p> + +<p>"You will see," he repeated excitedly, "you will see."</p> + +<p>Ecstatically, he took me in his arms and held me there a long moment.</p> + +<p>An extraordinary happiness swept over both of us, while, alternately +laughing and crying like children, we kept repeating:</p> + +<p>"We must hurry. We must hurry."</p> + +<p>Suddenly there sprang up a slight breeze that made the tufts of thatch +in the roof rustle. The sky, pale lilac, grew paler still, and, +suddenly, a great yellow rent tore it in the east. Dawn broke over the +empty desert. From within the stockade came dull noises, a bugle call, +the rattle of chains. The post was waking up.</p> + +<p>For several seconds we stood there silent, our eyes fixed on the +southern route by which one reaches Temassinin, Eguéré and Ahaggar.</p> + +<p>A rap on the dining-room door behind us made us start.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said André de Saint-Avit in a voice which had become +suddenly hard.</p> + +<p>The Quartermaster, Chatelain, stood before us.</p> + +<p>"What do you want of me at this hour?" Saint-Avit asked brusquely.</p> + +<p>The non-com stood at attention.</p> + +<p>"<!-- Page 191 -->Excuse me, Captain. But a native was discovered near the post, last +night, by the patrol. He was not trying to hide. As soon as he had +been brought here, he asked to be led before the commanding officer. +It was midnight and I didn't want to disturb you."</p> + +<p>"Who is this native?"</p> + +<p>"A Targa, Captain."</p> + +<p>"A Targa? Go get him."</p> + +<p>Chatelain stepped aside. Escorted by one of our native soldiers, the +man stood behind him.</p> + +<p>They came out on the terrace.</p> + +<p>The new arrival, six feet tall, was indeed a Targa. The light of dawn +fell upon his blue-black cotton robes. One could see his great dark +eyes flashing.</p> + +<p>When he was opposite my companion, I saw a tremor, immediately +suppressed, run through both men.</p> + +<p>They looked at each other for an instant in silence.</p> + +<p>Then, bowing, and in a very calm voice, the Targa spoke:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit."</p> + +<p>In the same calm voice, André answered him:</p> + +<p>"Peace be with you, Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2> Footnotes </h2> + +<div class="note"> +<a name="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1">[1]</a> +<p>This letter, together with the manuscript which +accompanies it, the latter in a separate sealed envelope, was +entrusted by Lieutenant Ferrières, of the 3rd Spahis, the day of the +departure of that officer for the Tassili of the Tuareg (Central +Sahara), to Sergeant Chatelain. The sergeant was instructed to deliver +it, on his next leave, to M. Leroux, Honorary Counsel at the Court of +Appeals at Riom, and Lieutenant Ferrières' nearest relative. As this +magistrate died suddenly before the expiration of the term of ten +years set for the publication of the manuscript here presented, +difficulties arose which have delayed its publication up to the +present date.</p></div> + +<div class="note"> +<a name="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2">[2]</a> +<p> H. Duveyrier, "The Disaster of the Flatters Mission." +Bull. Geol. Soc., 1881.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3">[3]</a> +<p> Doctrina Ptolemaei ab injuria recentiorum vindicata, sive +Nilus Superior et Niger verus, hodiernus Eghiren, ab anitiquis +explorati. Paris, 8vo, 1874, with two maps. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4">[4]</a> +<p> De nomine et genere popularum qui berberi vulgo dicuntur. +Paris, 8vo, 1892. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5">[5]</a> +<p> Another name, in the Temahaq language, for Ahaggar. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6">[6]</a> +<p> The route and the stages from Tit to Timissao were +actually plotted out, as early as 1888, by Captain Bissuel. <i>Les +Tuarge de l'Ouest,</i> itineraries 1 and 10. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7">[7]</a> +<p> It is perhaps worth noting here that <i>Figures de Proues</i> +is the exact title of a very remarkable collection of poems by Mme. +Delarus-Mardrus. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8">[8]</a> +<p> The Negro serfs among the Tuareg are generally called +"white Tuareg." While the nobles are clad in blue cotton robes, the +serfs wear white robes, hence their name of "white Tuareg." See, in +this connection, Duveyrier: <i>les Tuareg du Nord</i>, page 292. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_J_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_9">[9]</a> +<p> <i>Tirer à cinq</i>, a card game played only for very high stakes.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_K_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_10">[10]</a> +<p> How did the <i>Voyage to Atlantis</i> arrive at Dax? I have +found, so far, only one credible hypothesis: it might have been +discovered in Africa by the traveller, de Behagle, a member of the +Roger-Ducos Society, who studied at the college of Dax, and later, on +several occasions, visited the town. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_L_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_11">[11]</a> +<p> Variot: <i>L'anthropologie galvanique</i>. Paris, 1890. (Note +by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_M_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_12">[12]</a> +<p> In Berber, Tanit means a spring; zerga is the feminine of +the adjective azreg, blue. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_N_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_13">[13]</a> +<p> Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant—a mixture of +Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_P_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_14">[14]</a> +<p> I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the +Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who +accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count +Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_Q_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_15">[15]</a> +<p> The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_R_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_16">[16]</a> +<p> Cf. the records and the <i>Bulletin de la Société de +Géographie de Paris</i> (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the +<i>Commandant</i> of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants +Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note +by M. Leroux.)</p></div> + +<div class="note"><a name="Footnote_S_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_17">[17]</a> +<p> Gabrielle d'Annunzio: <i>Les Vierges aux Rochers</i>. Cf. The +<i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> of October 15, 1896; page 867.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + +***** This file should be named 14301-h.htm or 14301-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/0/14301/ + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Atlantida + +Author: Pierre Benoit + +Release Date: December 8, 2004 [EBook #14301] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + + + + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + + "First, I must warn you, +before beginning this work, +not to be surprised to hear +me calling barbarians by +Grecian names." + --PLATO + _Critias_ + + ATLANTIDA + + _Pierre Benoit_ + + Translated by Mary C. Tongue and Mary Ross + + ACE BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036 + + + To Andre Suares + + +[Illustration] + + + + +HASSI-INIFEL, NOVEMBER 8, 1903. + + +If the following pages are ever to see the light of day it will be +because they have been stolen from me. The delay that I exact before +they shall be disclosed assures me of that.[1] + +[Footnote 1: This letter, together with the manuscript which +accompanies it, the latter in a separate sealed envelope, was +entrusted by Lieutenant Ferrieres, of the 3rd Spahis, the day of the +departure of that officer for the Tassili of the Tuareg (Central +Sahara), to Sergeant Chatelain. The sergeant was instructed to deliver +it, on his next leave, to M. Leroux, Honorary Counsel at the Court of +Appeals at Riom, and Lieutenant Ferrieres' nearest relative. As this +magistrate died suddenly before the expiration of the term of ten +years set for the publication of the manuscript here presented, +difficulties arose which have delayed its publication up to the +present date.] + +As to this disclosure, let no one distrust my aim when I prepare for +it, when I insist upon it. You may believe me when I maintain that no +pride of authorship binds me to these pages. Already I am too far +removed from all such things. Only it is useless that others should +enter upon the path from which I shall not return. + +Four o'clock in the morning. Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with +its pink fire. All about me the bordj is asleep. Through the half-open +door of his room I hear Andre de Saint-Avit breathing quietly, very +quietly. + +In two days we shall start, he and I. We shall leave the bordj. We +shall penetrate far down there to the South. The official orders came +this morning. + +Now, even if I wished to withdraw, it is too late. Andre and I asked +for this mission. The authorization that I sought, together with him, +has at this moment become an order. The hierarchic channels cleared, +the pressure brought to bear at the Ministry;--and then to be afraid, +to recoil before this adventure!... + +To be afraid, I said. I know that I am not afraid! One night in the +Gurara, when I found two of my sentinels slaughtered, with the +shameful cross cut of the Berbers slashed across their stomachs--then +I was afraid. I know what fear is. Just so now, when I gazed into the +black depths, whence suddenly all at once the great red sun will rise, +I know that it is not with fear that I tremble. I feel surging within +me the sacred horror of this mystery, and its irresistible attraction. + +Delirious dreams, perhaps. The mad imaginings of a brain surcharged, +and an eye distraught by mirages. The day will come, doubtless, when I +shall reread these pages with an indulgent smile, as a man of fifty is +accustomed to smile when he rereads old letters. + +Delirious dreams. Mad imaginings. But these dreams, these imaginings, +are dear to me. "Captain de Saint-Avit and Lieutenant Ferrieres," +reads the official dispatch, "will proceed to Tassili to determine the +statigraphic relation of Albien sandstone and carboniferous limestone. +They will, in addition, profit by any opportunities of determining the +possible change of attitude of the Axdjers towards our penetration, +etc." If the journey should indeed have to do only with such poor +things I think that I should never undertake it. + +So I am longing for what I dread. I shall be dejected if I do not +find myself in the presence of what makes me strangely fearful. + +In the depths of the valley of Wadi Mia a jackal is barking. Now and +again, when a beam of moonlight breaks in a silver patch through the +hollows of the heat-swollen clouds, making him think he sees the young +sun, a turtle dove moans among the palm trees. + +I hear a step outside. I lean out of the window. A shade clad in +luminous black stuff glides over the hard-packed earth of the terrace +of the fortification. A light shines in the electric blackness. A man +has just lighted a cigarette. He crouches, facing southwards. He is +smoking. + +It is Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, our Targa guide, the man who in three days +is to lead us across the unknown plateaus of the mysterious +Imoschaoch, across the hamadas of black stones, the great dried oases, +the stretches of silver salt, the tawny hillocks, the flat gold dunes +that are crested over, when the "alize" blows, with a shimmering haze +of pale sand. + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh! He is the man. There recurs to my mind Duveyrier's +tragic phrase, "At the very moment the Colonel was putting his foot in +the stirrup he was felled by a sabre blow."[2] Cegheir-ben-Cheikh! +There he is, peacefully smoking his cigarette, a cigarette from the +package that I gave him.... May the Lord forgive me for it. + +[Footnote 2: H. Duveyrier, "The Disaster of the Flatters Mission." +Bull. Geol. Soc., 1881.] + +The lamp casts a yellow light on the paper. Strange fate, which, I +never knew exactly why, decided one day when I was a lad of sixteen +that I should prepare myself for Saint Cyr, and gave me there Andre de +Saint-Avit as classmate. I might have studied law or medicine. Then I +should be today a respectable inhabitant of a town with a church and +running water, instead of this cotton-clad phantom, brooding with an +unspeakable anxiety over this desert which is about to swallow me. + +A great insect has flown in through the window. It buzzes, strikes +against the rough cast, rebounds against the globe of the lamp, and +then, helpless, its wings singed by the still burning candle, drops on +the white paper. + +It is an African May bug, big, black, with spots of livid gray. + +I think of others, its brothers in France, the golden-brown May bugs, +which I have seen on stormy summer evenings projecting themselves like +little particles of the soil of my native countryside. It was there +that as a child I spent my vacations, and later on, my leaves. On my +last leave, through those same meadows, there wandered beside me a +slight form, wearing a thin scarf, because of the evening air, so cool +back there. But now this memory stirs me so slightly that I scarcely +raise my eyes to that dark corner of my room where the light is dimly +reflected by the glass of an indistinct portrait. I realize of how +little consequence has become what had seemed at one time capable of +filling all my life. This plaintive mystery is of no more interest to +me. If the strolling singers of Rolla came to murmur their famous +nostalgic airs under the window of this bordj I know that I should not +listen to them, and if they became insistent I should send them on +their way. + +What has been capable of causing this metamorphosis in me? A story, a +legend, perhaps, told, at any rate by one on whom rests the direst of +suspicions. + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has finished his cigarette. I hear him returning +with slow steps to his mat, in barrack B, to the left of the guard +post. + +Our departure being scheduled for the tenth of November, the +manuscript attached to this letter was begun on Sunday, the first, and +finished on Thursday, the fifth of November, 1903. + +OLIVIER FERRIERES, Lt. 3rd Spahis. + + + + +I + +A SOUTHERN ASSIGNMENT + + +Sunday, the sixth of June, 1903, broke the monotony of the life that +we were leading at the Post of Hassi-Inifel by two events of unequal +importance, the arrival of a letter from Mlle. de C----, and the +latest numbers of the Official Journal of the French Republic. + +"I have the Lieutenant's permission?" said Sergeant Chatelain, +beginning to glance through the magazines he had just removed from +their wrappings. + +I acquiesced with a nod, already completely absorbed in reading Mlle. +de C----'s letter. + +"When this reaches you," was the gist of this charming being's letter, +"mama and I will doubtless have left Paris for the country. If, in +your distant parts, it might be a consolation to imagine me as bored +here as you possibly can be, make the most of it. The Grand Prix is +over. I played the horse you pointed out to me, and naturally, I lost. +Last night we dined with the Martials de la Touche. Elias Chatrian was +there, always amazingly young. I am sending you his last book, which +has made quite a sensation. It seems that the Martials de la Touche +are depicted there without disguise. I will add to it Bourget's last, +and Loti's, and France's, and two or three of the latest music hall +hits. In the political word, they say the law about congregations will +meet with strenuous opposition. Nothing much in the theatres. I have +taken out a summer subscription for _l'Illustration_. Would you care +for it? In the country no one knows what to do. Always the same lot of +idiots ready for tennis. I shall deserve no credit for writing to you +often. Spare me your reflections concerning young Combemale. I am less +than nothing of a feminist, having too much faith in those who tell me +that I am pretty, in yourself in particular. But indeed, I grow wild +at the idea that if I permitted myself half the familiarities with one +of our lads that you have surely with your Ouled-Nails.... Enough of +that, it is too unpleasant an idea." + +I had reached this point in the prose of this advanced young woman +when a scandalized exclamation of the Sergeant made me look up. + +"Lieutenant!" + +"Yes?" + +"They are up to something at the Ministry. See for yourself." + +He handed me the Official. I read: + +"By a decision of the first of May, 1903, Captain de Saint-Avit +(Andre), unattached, is assigned to the Third Spahis, and appointed +Commandant of the Post of Hassi-Inifel." + +Chatelain's displeasure became fairly exuberant. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit, Commandant of the Post. A post which has never +had a slur upon it. They must take us for a dumping ground." + +My surprise was as great as the Sergeant's. But just then I saw the +evil, weasel-like face of Gourrut, the convict we used as clerk. He +had stopped his scrawling and was listening with a sly interest. + +"Sergeant, Captain de Saint-Avit is my ranking classmate," I answered +dryly. + +Chatelain saluted, and left the room. I followed. + +"There, there," I said, clapping him on the back, "no hard feelings. +Remember that in an hour we are starting for the oasis. Have the +cartridges ready. It is of the utmost importance to restock the +larder." + +I went back to the office and motioned Gourrut to go. Left alone, I +finished Mlle. de C----'s letter very quickly, and then reread the +decision of the Ministry giving the post a new chief. + +It was now five months that I had enjoyed that distinction, and on my +word, I had accepted the responsibility well enough, and been very +well pleased with the independence. I can even affirm, without taking +too much credit for myself, that under my command discipline had been +better maintained than under Captain Dieulivol, Saint-Avit's +predecessor. A brave man, this Captain Dieulivol, a non-commissioned +officer under Dodds and Duchesne, but subject to a terrible propensity +for strong liquors, and too much inclined, when he had drunk, to +confuse his dialects, and to talk to a Houassa in Sakalave. No one was +ever more sparing of the post water supply. One morning when he was +preparing his absinthe in the presence of the Sergeant, Chatelain, +noticing the Captain's glass, saw with amazement that the green liquor +was blanched by a far stronger admixture of water than usual. He +looked up, aware that something abnormal had just occurred. Rigid, the +carafe inverted in his hand, Captain Dieulivol was spilling the water +which was running over on the sugar. He was dead. + +For six months, since the disappearance of this sympathetic old +tippler, the Powers had not seemed to interest themselves in finding +his successor. I had even hoped at times that a decision might be +reached investing me with the rights that I was in fact exercising.... +And today this surprising appointment. + +Captain de Saint-Avit. He was of my class at St. Cyr. I had lost track +of him. Then my attention had been attracted to him by his rapid +advancement, his decoration, the well-deserved recognition of three +particularly daring expeditions of exploration to Tebesti and the Air; +and suddenly, the mysterious drama of his fourth expedition, that +famous mission undertaken with Captain Morhange, from which only one +of the explorers came back. Everything is forgotten quickly in France. +That was at least six years ago. I had not heard Saint-Avit mentioned +since. I had even supposed that he had left the army. And now, I was +to have him as my chief. + +"After all, what's the difference," I mused, "he or another! At school +he was charming, and we have had only the most pleasant relationships. +Besides, I haven't enough yearly income to afford the rank of +Captain." + +And I left the office, whistling as I went. + + * * * * * + +We were now, Chatelain and I, our guns resting on the already cooling +earth, beside the pool that forms the center of the meager oasis, +hidden behind a kind of hedge of alfa. The setting sun was reddening +the stagnant ditches which irrigate the poor garden plots of the +sedentary blacks. + +Not a word during the approach. Not a word during the shoot. Chatelain +was obviously sulking. + +In silence we knocked down, one after the other, several of the +miserable doves which came on dragging wings, heavy with the heat of +the day, to quench their thirst at the thick green water. When a +half-dozen slaughtered little bodies were lined up at our feet I put +my hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. + +"Chatelain!" + +He trembled. + +"Chatelain, I was rude to you a little while ago. Don't be angry. It +was the bad time before the siesta. The bad time of midday." + +"The Lieutenant is master here," he answered in a tone that was meant +to be gruff, but which was only strained. + +"Chatelain, don't be angry. You have something to say to me. You know +what I mean." + +"I don't know really. No, I don't know." + +"Chatelain, Chatelain, why not be sensible? Tell me something about +Captain de Saint-Avit." + +"I know nothing." He spoke sharply. + +"Nothing? Then what were you saying a little while ago?" + +"Captain de Saint-Avit is a brave man." He muttered the words with his +head still obstinately bent. "He went alone to Bilma, to the Air, +quite alone to those places where no one had ever been. He is a brave +man." + +"He is a brave man, undoubtedly," I answered with great restraint. +"But he murdered his companion, Captain Morhange, did he not?" + +The old Sergeant trembled. + +"He is a brave man," he persisted. + +"Chatelain, you are a child. Are you afraid that I am going to repeat +what you say to your new Captain?" + +I had touched him to the quick. He drew himself up. + +"Sergeant Chatelain is afraid of no one, Lieutenant. He has been at +Abomey, against the Amazons, in a country where a black arm started +out from every bush to seize your leg, while another cut it off for +you with one blow of a cutlass." + +"Then what they say, what you yourself--" + +"That is talk." + +"Talk which is repeated in France, Chatelain, everywhere." + +He bent his head still lower without replying. + +"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?" + +"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know, +or nothing--" + +"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I +give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you +except on official business." + +Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans--myself, the +Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its +effect. + +"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But +afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a +superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I +overheard at mess." + +"Tell away." + +"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th +Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the +Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth. +The marketing, the accounts, recording the library books which were +borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,--for +with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined +at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon +as he was seated, called for silence: + +"'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I +shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the +_City of Naples_ lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit, +recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.' + +"The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to +be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed +ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an +officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and +invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He +pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of +the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit +meant--one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs. + +"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that +perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard. + +"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen, +and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and +the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to +hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an +officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a +comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is +the matter on which I ask your advice.' + +"There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them +suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants. +In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried +not to make the least sound that might recall my presence. + +"'We thank you, Colonel,' one of the majors finally replied, 'for your +courtesy in consulting us. All my comrades, I imagine, know to what +terrible rumors you refer. If I may venture to say so, in Paris at the +Army Geographical Service, where I was before coming here, most of the +officers of the highest standing had an opinion on this unfortunate +matter which they avoided stating, but which cast no glory upon +Captain de Saint-Avit.' + +"'I was at Bammako, at the time of the Morhange-Saint-Avit mission,' +said a Captain. 'The opinion of the officers there, I am sorry to say, +differed very little from what the Major describes. But I must add +that they all admitted that they had nothing but suspicions to go on. +And suspicions are certainly not enough considering the atrocity of +the affair.' + +"'They are quite enough, gentlemen,' replied the Colonel, 'to account +for our hesitation. It is not a question of passing judgment; but no +man can sit at our table as a matter of right. It is a privilege based +on fraternal esteem. The only question is whether it is your decision +to accord it to Saint-Avit.' + +"So saying, he looked at the officers, as if he were taking a roll +call. One after another they shook their heads. + +"'I see that we agree,' he said. 'But our task is unfortunately not +yet over. The _City of Naples_ will be in port tomorrow morning. The +launch which meets the passengers leaves at eight o'clock. It will be +necessary, gentlemen, for one of you to go aboard. Captain de +Saint-Avit might be expecting to come to us. We certainly have no +intention of inflicting upon him the humiliation of refusing him, if +he presented himself in expectation of the customary reception. He +must be prevented from coming. It will be wisest to make him +understand that it is best for him to stay aboard.' + +"The Colonel looked at the officers again. They could not but agree. +But how uncomfortable each one looked! + +"'I cannot hope to find a volunteer among you for this kind of +mission, so I am compelled to appoint some one. Captain Grandjean, +Captain de Saint-Avit is also a Captain. It is fitting that it be an +officer of his own rank who carries him our message. Besides, you are +the latest comer here. Therefore it is to you that I entrust this +painful interview. I do not need to suggest that you conduct it as +diplomatically as possible.' + +"Captain Grandjean bowed, while a sigh of relief escaped from all the +others. As long as the Colonel stayed in the room Grandjean remained +apart, without speaking. It was only after the chief had departed that +he let fall the words: "'There are some things that ought to count a +good deal for promotion.' + +"The next day at luncheon everyone was impatient for his return. + +"'Well?' demanded the Colonel, briefly. + +"Captain Grandjean did not reply immediately. He sat down at the table +where his comrades were mixing their drinks, and he, a man notorious +for sobriety, drank almost at a gulp, without waiting for the sugar to +melt, a full glass of absinthe. + +"'Well, Captain?' repeated the Colonel. + +"'Well, Colonel, it's done. You can be at ease. He will not set foot on +shore. But, ye gods, what an ordeal!' + +"The officers did not dare speak. Only their looks expressed their +anxious curiosity. + +"Captain Grandjean poured himself a swallow of water. + +"'You see, I had gotten my speech all ready, in the launch. But as I +went up the ladder I knew that I had forgotten it. Saint-Avit was in +the smoking-room, with the Captain of the boat. It seemed to me that I +could never find the strength to tell him, when I saw him all ready to +go ashore. He was in full dress uniform, his sabre lay on the bench +and he was wearing spurs. No one wears spurs on shipboard. I presented +myself and we exchanged several remarks, but I must have seemed +somewhat strained for from the first moment I knew that he sensed +something. Under some pretext he left the Captain, and led me aft near +the great rudder wheel. There, I dared speak. Colonel, what did I say? +How I must have stammered! He did not look at me. Leaning his elbows +on the railing he let his eyes wander far off, smiling slightly. Then, +of a sudden, when I was well tangled up in explanations, he looked at +me coolly and said: + +"'I must thank you, my dear fellow, for having given yourself so much +trouble. But it is quite unnecessary. I am out of sorts and have no +intention of going ashore. At least, I have the pleasure of having +made your acquaintance. Since I cannot profit by your hospitality, you +must do me the favor of accepting mine as long as the launch stays by +the vessel.' + +"Then we went back to the smoking-room. He himself mixed the +cocktails. He talked to me. We discovered that we had mutual +acquaintances. Never shall I forget that face, that ironic and distant +look, that sad and melodious voice. Ah! Colonel, gentlemen, I don't +know what they may say at the Geographic Office, or in the posts of +the Soudan.... There can be nothing in it but a horrible suspicion. +Such a man, capable of such a crime,--believe me, it is not possible. + +"That is all, Lieutenant," finished Chatelain, after a silence. "I +have never seen a sadder meal than that one. The officers hurried +through lunch without a word being spoken, in an atmosphere of +depression against which no one tried to struggle. And in this +complete silence, you could see them always furtively watching the +_City of Naples_, where she was dancing merrily in the breeze, a +league from shore. + +"She was still there in the evening when they assembled for dinner, +and it was not until a blast of the whistle, followed by curls of +smoke escaping from the red and black smokestack had announced the +departure of the vessel for Gabes, that conversation was resumed; and +even then, less gaily than usual. + +"After that, Lieutenant, at the Officers' Club at Sfax, they avoided +like the plague any subject which risked leading the conversation back +to Captain de Saint-Avit." + +Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the +desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we +had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once +more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds +were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked +the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so +that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze. + +"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj." + +Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me +reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the +time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to +break our desolate silence with a single word. + +The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which +surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but +already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had +disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the +sky. + +When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me. + +"I am going to the stables," he said. + +I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the +Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible +sadness weighed upon me. + +I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must +be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed, +their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes. + +"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station." + +The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams +of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered. + +A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His +back was toward me. He did not hear me enter. + +"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make +yourself completely at home." + +The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very +pale. + +"Lieutenant Ferrieres, is it not?" + +He advanced, holding out his hand. + +"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow." + +At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold. + +"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the +little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want +of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at +Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were +you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I +found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie. +We will change all that, I hope. At ease." + +"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while Chatelain +remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was +with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the +post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every +point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival--" + +"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant, +I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences +which attach to your office. He is not obliged to know that the +officer who abandons a post like Hassi-Inifel, if it is only for two +hours, risks not finding much left on his return. The Chaamba +brigands, my dear sir, love firearms, and for the sake of the sixty +muskets in your racks, I am sure they would not scruple to make an +officer, whose otherwise excellent record is well known to me, account +for his absence to a court-martial. Come with me, if you please. We +will finish the little inspection I began too rapidly a little while +ago." + +He was already on the stairs. I followed in his footsteps. Chatelain +closed the order of march. I heard him murmuring, in a tone which you +can imagine: + +"Well, we are in for it now!" + + + + +II + +CAPTAIN DE SAINT-AVIT + + +A few days sufficed to convince us that Chatelain's fears as to our +official relations with the new chief were vain. Often I have thought +that by the severity he showed at our first encounter Saint-Avit +wished to create a formal barrier, to show us that he knew how to keep +his head high in spite of the weight of his heavy past. Certain it is +that the day after his arrival, he showed himself in a very different +light, even complimenting the Sergeant on the upkeep of the post and +the instruction of the men. To me he was charming. + +"We are of the same class, aren't we?" he said to me. "I don't have +to ask you to dispense with formalities, it is your right." + +Vain marks of confidence, alas! False witnesses to a freedom of +spirit, one in face of the other. What more accessible in appearance +than the immense Sahara, open to all those who are willing to be +engulfed by it? Yet what is more secret? After six months of +companionship, of communion of life such as only a Post in the South +offers, I ask myself if the most extraordinary of my adventures is not +to be leaving to-morrow, toward unsounded solitudes, with a man whose +real thoughts are as unknown to me as these same solitudes, for which +he has succeeded in making me long. + +The first surprise which was given me by this singular companion was +occasioned by the baggage that followed him. + +On his inopportune arrival, alone, from Wargla, he had trusted to the +Mehari he rode only what can be carried without harm by such a +delicate beast,--his arms, sabre and revolver, a heavy carbine, and a +very reduced pack. The rest did not arrive till fifteen days later, +with the convoy which supplied the post. + +Three cases of respectable dimensions were carried one after another +to the Captain's room, and the grimaces of the porters said enough as +to their weight. + +I discreetly left Saint-Avit to his unpacking and began opening the +mail which the convoy had sent me. + +He returned to the office a little later and glanced at the several +reviews which I had just recieved. + +"So," he said. "You take these." + +He skimmed through, as he spoke, the last number of the _Zeitschrift +der Gesellschaft fur Erdkunde in Berlin_. + +"Yes," I answered. "These gentlemen are kind enough to interest +themselves in my works on the geology of the Wadi Mia and the high +Igharghar." + +"That may be useful to me," he murmured, continuing to turn over the +leaves. + +"It's at your service." + +"Thanks. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you in exchange, except +Pliny, perhaps. And still--you know what he said of Igharghar, +according to King Juba. However, come help me put my traps in place +and you will see if anything appeals to you." + +I accepted without further urging. + +We commenced by unearthing various meteorological and astronomical +instruments--the thermometers of Baudin, Salleron, Fastre, an aneroid, +a Fortin barometer, chronometers, a sextant, an astronomical spyglass, +a compass glass.... In short, what Duveyrier calls the material that +is simplest and easiest to transport on a camel. + +As Saint-Avit handed them to me I arranged them on the only table in +the room. + +"Now," he announced to me, "there is nothing more but books. I will +pass them to you. Pile them up in a corner until I can have a +book-shelf made." + +For two hours altogether I helped him to heap up a real library. And +what a library! Such as never before a post in the South had seen. All +the texts consecrated, under whatever titles, by antiquity to the +regions of the Sahara were reunited between the four rough-cast walls +of that little room of the bordj. Herodotus and Pliny, naturally, and +likewise Strabo and Ptolemy, Pomponius Mela, and Ammien Marcellin. But +besides these names which reassured my ignorance a little, I perceived +those of Corippus, of Paul Orose, of Eratosthenes, of Photius, of +Diodorus of Sicily, of Solon, of Dion Cassius, of Isidor of Seville, +of Martin de Tyre, of Ethicus, of Athenee, the _Scriptores Historiae +Augustae_, the _Itinerarium Antonini Augusti_, the _Geographi Latini +Minores_ of Riese, the _Geographi Graeci Minores_ of Karl Muller.... +Since I have had the occasion to familiarize myself with Agatarchides +of Cos and Artemidorus of Ephesus, but I admit that in this instance +the presence of their dissertations in the saddle bags of a captain of +cavalry caused me some amazement. + +I mention further the _Descrittione dell' Africa_ by Leon l'African, +the _Arabian Histories_ of Ibn-Khaldoun, of Al-Iaquob, of El-Bekri, of +Ibn-Batoutah, of Mahommed El-Tounsi.... In the midst of this Babel, I +remember the names of only two volumes of contemporary French +scholars. There were also the laborious theses of Berlioux[3] and of +Schirmer.[4] + +[Footnote 3: Doctrina Ptolemaei ab injuria recentiorum vindicata, sive +Nilus Superior et Niger verus, hodiernus Eghiren, ab anitiquis +explorati. Paris, 8vo, 1874, with two maps. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +[Footnote 4: De nomine et genere popularum qui berberi vulgo dicuntur. +Paris, 8vo, 1892. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +While I proceeded to make piles of as similar dimensions as possible I +kept saying to myself: + +"To think that I have been believing all this time that in his mission +with Morhange, Saint-Avit was particularly concerned in scientific +observations. Either my memory deceives me strangely or he is riding a +horse of another color. What is sure is that there is nothing for me +in the midst of all this chaos." + +He must have read on my face the signs of too apparently expressed +surprise, for he said in a tone in which I divined a tinge of +defiance: + +"The choice of these books surprises you a bit?" + +"I can't say it surprises me," I replied, "since I don't know the +nature of the work for which you have collected them. In any case I +dare say, without fear of being contradicted, that never before has +officer of the Arabian Office possessed a library in which the +humanities were so, well represented." + +He smiled evasively, and that day we pursued the subject no further. + +Among Saint-Avit's books I had noticed a voluminous notebook secured +by a strong lock. Several times I surprised him in the act of making +notations in it. When for any reason he was called out of the room he +placed his album carefully in a small cabinet of white wood, provided +by the munificence of the Administration. When he was not writing and +the office did not require his presence, he had the mehari which he +had brought with him saddled, and a few minutes later, from the +terrace of the fortifications, I could see the double silhouette +disappearing with great strides behind a hummock of red earth on the +horizon. + +Each time these trips lasted longer. From each he returned in a kind +of exaltation which made me watch him with daily increasing +disquietude during meal hours, the only time we passed quite alone +together. + +"Well," I said to myself one day when his remarks had been more +lacking in sequence than usual, "it's no fun being aboard a submarine +when the captain takes opium. What drug can this fellow be taking, +anyway?" + +Next day I looked hurriedly through my comrade's drawers. This +inspection, which I believed to be my duty, reassured me momentarily. +"All very good," I thought, "provided he does not carry with him his +capsules and his Pravaz syringe." + +I was still in that stage where I could suppose that Andre's +imagination needed artificial stimulants. + +Meticulous observation undeceived me. There was nothing suspicious in +this respect. Moreover, he rarely drank and almost never smoked. + +And nevertheless, there was no means of denying the increase of his +disquieting feverishness. He returned from his expeditions each time +with his eyes more brilliant. He was paler, more animated, more +irritable. + +One evening he left the post about six o'clock, at the end of the +greatest heat of the day. We waited for him all night. My anxiety was +all the stronger because quite recently caravans had brought tidings +of bands of robbers in the neighborhood of the post. + +At dawn he had not returned. He did not come before midday. His camel +collapsed under him, rather than knelt. + +He realized that he must excuse himself, but he waited till we were +alone at lunch. + +"I am so sorry to have caused you any anxiety. But the dunes were so +beautiful under the moon! I let myself be carried farther and +farther...." + +"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the +chief here. Only allow me to recall to you certain warnings concerning +the Chaamba brigands, and the misfortunes that might arise from a +Commandant of a post absenting himself too long." + +He smiled. + +"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply. + +He was in excellent, too excellent spirits. + +"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon +rose. And then, I recognized the country. It is just where, twenty +years ago next November, Flatters followed the way to his destiny in +an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made keener and +more intense." + +"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured. + +"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he +did ... even to dying of it." + +"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I +answered. "But they were alone when they exposed themselves to it. +Responsible only for their own lives, they were free. Flatters, on the +other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you cannot deny that +he allowed his whole party to be massacred." + +The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I +thought of Chatelain's story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where +they avoided like the plague any kind of conversation which might lead +their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit mission. + +Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant +eyes were far away. + +"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly. + +"Auxonne." + +He gave an unnatural laugh. + +"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand +inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's +wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every +Sunday,--the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon. +That explains your Judgment of Flatters. + +"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I +arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged +twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black +sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the _bagnards_ say in speaking of their +grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had +begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see +those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at +their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands +and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had +plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three +or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that +same evening for Berroughia. + +"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway +stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get +to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat. +When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage, +straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of +the outlying desert. + +"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road +embankment, overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume +of oleander, we changed horses. They had there a troop of convicts and +impressed laborers, under escort of riflemen and convoys to the +quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the jails of +Algiers and Douara,--without arms, of course; the others +civilians--such civilians! this year's recruits, the young bullies of +the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or. + +"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From +a distance I saw in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black +irregular mass of the convoy. Then I heard a weary dirge; the wretches +were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the couplet, +which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines: + +"'_Maintenant qu'elle est grande, + Elle fait le trottoir, + Avec ceux de la bande + A Richard-Lenoir_.' + +"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain: + +"'_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien + Nini Peau d'Chien; + Elle est si belle et si gentille + A la Bastille_' + +"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. +They were terrible. Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone +with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven faces. The burning dust +strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness +took possession of me. + +"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained +my self-control. + +"'Further, much further South,' I exclaimed to myself, 'to the places +untouched by this miserable bilgewater of civilization.' + +"When I am weary, when I have a moment of anguish and longing to turn +back on the road that I have chosen, I think of the prisoners of +Berroughia, and then I am glad to continue on my way. + +"But what a reward, when I am in one of those places where the poor +animals never think of fleeing because they have never seen man, where +the desert stretches out around me so widely that the old world could +crumble, and never a single ripple on the dune, a single cloud in the +white sky come to warn me. + +"'It is true,' I murmured. 'I, too, once, in the middle of the desert, +at Tidi-Kelt, I felt that way.'" + +Up to that time I had let him enjoy his exaltations without +interruption. I understood too late the error that I had made in +pronouncing that unfortunate sentence. + +His mocking nervous laughter began anew. + +"Ah! Indeed, at Tidi-Kelt? I beg you, old man, in your own interest, +if you don't want to make an ass of yourself, avoid that species of +reminiscence. Honestly, you make me think of Fromentin, or that poor +Maupassant, who talked of the desert because he had been to Djelfa, +two days' journey from the street of Bab-Azound and the Government +buildings, four days from the Avenue de l'Opera;--and who, because he +saw a poor devil of a camel dying near Bou-Saada, believed himself in +the heart of the desert, on the old route of the caravans.... +Tidi-Kelt, the desert!" + +"It seems to me, however, that In-Salah--" I said, a little vexed. + +"In-Salah? Tidi-Kelt! But, my poor friend, the last time that I passed +that way there were as many old newspapers and empty sardine boxes as +if it had been Sunday in the Wood of Vincennes." + +Such a determined, such an evident desire to annoy me made me forget +my reserve. + +"Evidently," I replied resentfully, "I have never been to--" + +I stopped myself, but it was already too late. + +He looked at me, squarely in the face. + +"To where?" he said with good humor. + +I did not answer. + +"To where?" he repeated. + +And, as I remained strangled in my muteness: + +"To Wadi Tarhit, do you mean?" + +It was on the east bank of Wadi Tarhit, a hundred and twenty +kilometers from Timissao, at 25.5 degrees north latitude, according to +the official report, that Captain Morhange was buried. + +"Andre," I cried stupidly, "I swear to you--" + +"What do you swear to me?" + +"That I never meant--" + +"To speak of Wadi Tarhit? Why? Why should you not speak to me of Wadi +Tarhit?" + +In answer to my supplicating silence, he merely shrugged his +shoulders. + +"Idiot," was all he said. + +And he left me before I could think of even one word to say. + +So much humility on my part had, however, not disarmed him. I had the +proof of it the next day, and the way he showed his humor was even +marked by an exhibition of wretchedly poor taste. + +I was just out of bed when he came into my room. + +"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. + +He had in his hand one of the official registers. In his nervous +crises he always began sorting them over, in the hope of finding some +pretext for making himself militarily insupportable. + +This time chance had favored him. + +He opened the register. I blushed violently at seeing the poor proof +of a photograph that I knew well. + +"What is that?" he repeated disdainfully. + +Too often I had surprised him in the act of regarding, none too +kindly, the portrait of Mlle. de C. which hung in my room not to be +convinced at that moment that he was trying to pick a quarrel with me. + +I controlled myself, however, and placed the poor little print in the +drawer. + +But my calmness did not pacify him. + +"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of +your gallantry with the official papers." + +He added, with a smile that spoke insult: + +"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut." + +"Andre," I said, and I was white, "I demand--" + +He stood up to the full height of his stature. + +"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to +speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should +think--" + +"Andre!" + +Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the +replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene. + +"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves +you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?" + +And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, +humming the shameful refrain of the previous night: + +"_A la Bastille, a la Bastille, + On aime bien, on aime bien, + Nini, Peau de Chien_." + +For three days neither of us spoke to the other. My exasperation was +too deep for words. Was I, then, to be held responsible for his +avatars! Was it my fault if, between two phrases, one seemed always +some allusion-- + +"The situation is intolerable," I said to myself. "It cannot last +longer." + +It was to cease very soon. + +One week after the scene of the photograph the courier arrived. I had +scarcely glanced at the index of the _Zeitschrift_, the German review +of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable +amazement. I had just read: _"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei +fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de +Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."_ + +At the same time I heard my comrade's voice. + +"Anything interesting in this number?" + +"No," I answered carelessly. + +"Let's see." + +I obeyed; what else was there to do? + +It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However, +his tone was altogether natural when he said: + +"You will let me borrow it, of course?" + +And he went out, casting me one defiant glance. + + * * * * * + +The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was +gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me. + +When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade +of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness +was already encroaching upon from the east. + +Andre broke the silence. + +"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is +not interesting." + +His expression was one of supreme amusement. + +"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?" + +"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching. + +"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?" + +I looked at him with an expression of supplication. + +"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more. + +Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia was still +yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping +sharply. + +"The _dib_ is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said +Saint-Avit. + +He continued pitilessly: + +"Then you aren't willing to say anything?" + +I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase: + +"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy--You don't feel +like yourself, you don't know any more--" + +"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy, +heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain +Morhange." + + + + +III + +THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION + + +"So I killed Captain Morhange," Andre de Saint-Avit said to me the +next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took +no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through. +"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the +desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that +confidence, and further, if necessary, of assuming the consequences it +may bring? I don't know that, either. The future will decide. For the +present there is only one thing certain, the fact, I tell you again, +that I killed Captain Morhange. + +"I killed him. And, since you want me to specify the reason, you +understand that I am not going to torture my brain to turn it into a +romance for you, or commence by recounting in the naturalistic manner +of what stuff my first trousers were made, or, as the neo-Catholics +would have it, how often I went as a child to confession, and how much +I liked doing it. I have no taste for useless exhibitions. You will +find that this recital begins strictly at the time when I met +Morhange. + +"And first of all, I tell you, however much it has cost my peace of +mind and my reputation, I do not regret having known him. In a word, +apart from all question of false friendship, I am convicted of a black +ingratitude in having killed him. It is to him, it is to his knowledge +of rock inscriptions, that I owe the only thing that has raised my +life in interest above the miserable little lives dragged out by my +companions at Auxonne, and elsewhere. + +"This being understood, here are the facts:" + +[NOTE: From this point on begins an extended narrative; +indeed it may be most of the remaining book. +I was changing the quoting, until I reached the end +of the chapter and found that it continued on from there.] + +It was in the Arabian Office at Wargla, when I was a lieutenant, that +I first heard the name, Morhange. And I must add that it was for me +the occasion of an attack of bad humor. We were having difficult +times. The hostility of the Sultan of Morocco was latent. At Touat, +where the assassination of Flatters and of Frescaly had already been +concocted, connivance was being given to the plots of our enemies. +Touat was the center of conspiracies, of razzias, of defections, and +at the same time, the depot of supply for the insatiable nomads. The +Governors of Algeria, Tirman, Cambon, Laferriere, demanded its +occupation. The Ministers of War tacitly agreed.... But there was +Parliament, which did nothing at all, because of England, because of +Germany, and above all because of a certain _Declaration of the Rights +of Man and of the Citizen_, which prescribed that insurrection is the +most sacred of duties, even when the insurgents are savages who cut +your head off. In short, the military authority could only, at its own +discretion, increase the southern garrisons, and establish new posts; +this one, Berresof, Hassi-el-Mia, Fort MacMahon, Fort Lallemand, Fort +Miribel.... But as Castries puts it, you don't hold the nomads with +bordjs, you hold them by the belt. The middle was the oasis of Touat. +Their honors, the lawyers of Paris, had to be convinced of the +necessity of taking possession of the oasis of Touat. The best way +would be to present them with a faithful picture of the plots that +were being woven there against us. + +The principal authors were, and still are, the Senoussis, whose able +chief has been forced by our arms to transfer the seat of his +confederation several thousand leagues from there, to Schimmedrou, in +the Tibesti. They had, I say _they_ through modesty, the idea of +ascertaining the traces left by these agitators on their favorite +places of concourse; Rhat, Temassinin, the plain of Adejamor, and +In-Salah. It was, you see, at least after leaving Temassinin, +practically the same itinerary as that followed in 1864 by General +Rohlfs. + +I had already attracted some attention by two excursions, one to +Agades, and the other to Bilma, and was considered by the staff +officers to be one of the best informed on the Senoussis question. I +was therefore selected to assume this new task. + +I then suggested that it would be of interest to kill two birds with +one stone, and to get, in passing, an idea of the northern Ahaggar, so +as to make sure whether the Tuaregs of Ahitarhen had continued to have +as cordial relations with the Senoussis as they had had when they +combined to massacre the Flatters' mission. I was immediately accorded +the permission. The change in my first plan was as follows: After +reaching Ighelaschem, six hundred kilometers south of Temassinin, +instead of taking the direct road to Touat via Rhat, I would, +penetrating between the high land of Mouydir and Ahaggar, strike off +to the southwest as far as Shikh-Salah. Here I would turn again +northwards, towards In-Salah, by the road to the Soudan and Agades. In +all hardly eight kilometers additional in a trip of about seven +hundred leagues, with the certainty of making as complete an +examination as possible of the roads which our enemies, the Senoussis +of Tibesti and the Tuareg of the Ahaggar, must follow to arrive at +Touat. On the way, for every explorer has his pet fancy, I was not at +all displeased to think that I would have a chance to examine the +geological formation of the plateau of Egere, about which Duveyrier +and the others are so disappointingly indefinite. + +Everything was ready for my departure from Wargla. Everything, which +is to say, very little. Three mehara: mine, my companion Bou-Djema's +(a faithful Chaamba, whom I had had with me in my wanderings through +the Air, less of a guide in the country I was familiar with than a +machine for saddling and unsaddling camels), then a third to carry +provisions and skins of drinking water, very little, since I had taken +pains to locate the stops with reference to the wells. + +Some people go equipped for this kind of expedition with a hundred +regulars, and even cannon. I am for the tradition of Douls and Rene +Callie, I go alone. + +I was at that perfect moment when only one thin thread still held me +to the civilized world when an official cable arrived at Wargla. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," it said briefly, "will delay his departure +until the arrival of Captain Morhange, who will accompany him on his +expedition of exploration." + +I was more than disappointed. I alone had had the idea of this +expedition. I had had all the difficulty that you can imagine to make +the authorities agree to it. And now when I was rejoicing at the idea +of the long hours I would spend alone with myself in the heart of the +desert, they sent me a stranger, and, to make matters worse, a +superior. + +The condolences of my comrades aggravated my bad humor. + +The Yearly Report, consulted on the spot, had given them the following +information: + +"Morhange (Jean-Marie-Francois), class of 1881. Breveted. Captain, +unassigned. (Topographical Service of the Army.)" + +"There is the explanation for you," said one. "They are sending one of +their creatures to pull the chestnuts out of the fire, after you have +had all the trouble of making it. Breveted! That's a great way. The +theories of Ardant du Picq or else nothing about here." + +"I don't altogether agree with you," said the Major. "They knew in +Parliament, for some one is always indiscreet, the real aim of +Saint-Avit's mission: to force their hand for the occupation of Touat. +And this Morhange must be a man serving the interests of the Army +Commission. All these people, secretaries, members of Parliament, +governors, keep a close watch on each other. Some one will write an +amusing paradoxical history some day, of the French Colonial +Expansion, which is made without the knowledge of the powers in +office, when it is not actually in spite of them." + +"Whatever the reason, the result will be the same," I said bitterly; +"we will be two Frenchmen to spy on each other night and day, along +the roads to the south. An amiable prospect when one has none too much +time to foil all the tricks of the natives. When does he arrive?" + +"Day after tomorrow, probably. I have news of a convoy coming from +Ghardaia. It is likely that he will avail himself of it. The +indications are that he doesn't know very much about traveling alone." + +Captain Morhange did arrive in fact two days later by means of the +convoy from Ghardaia. I was the first person for whom he asked. + +When he came to my room, whither I had withdrawn in dignity as soon as +the convoy was sighted, I was disagreeably surprised to foresee that I +would have great difficulty in preserving my prejudice against him. + +He was tall, his face full and ruddy, with laughing blue eyes, a small +black moustache, and hair that was already white. + +"I have a thousand apologies to make to you, my dear fellow," he said +immediately, with a frankness that I have never seen in any other man. +"You must be furious with my importunity in upsetting your plans and +delaying your departure." + +"By no means, Captain," I replied coolly. + +"You really have only yourself to blame. It is on account of your +knowledge of the southern, routes, so highly esteemed at Paris, that I +wished to have you to initiate me when the Ministries of Instruction +and of Commerce, and the Geographical Society combined to charge me +with the mission which brings me here. These three honorable +institutions have in fact entrusted me with the attempt to +re-establish the ancient track of the caravans, which, from the ninth +century, trafficked between Tunis and the Soudan, by Toweur, Wargla, +Es-Souk and the bend of the Bourroum; and to study the possibility of +restoring this route to its ancient splendor. At the same time, at the +Geographic Bureau, I heard of the journey that you are undertaking. +From Wargla to Shikh-Salah our two itineraries are the same. Only I +must admit to you that it is the first voyage of this kind that I have +ever undertaken. I would not be afraid to hold forth for an hour on +Arabian literature in the amphitheatre of the School of Oriental +Languages, but I know well enough that in the desert I should have to +ask for directions whether to turn right or left. This is the only +chance which could give me such an opportunity, and at the same time +put me under obligation for this introduction to so charming a +companion. You must not blame me if I seized it, if I used all my +influence to retard your departure from Wargla until the instant when +I could join you. I have only one more word to add to what I have +said. I am entrusted with a mission which by its origin is rendered +essentially civilian. You are sent out by the Ministry of War. Up to +the moment when, arrived at Shikh-Salah we turn our backs on each +other to attain, you Touat, and I the Niger, all your recommendations, +all your orders, will be followed by a subaltern, and, I hope, by a +friend as well." + +All the time he was talking so openly I felt delightedly my worst +recent fears melting away. Nevertheless, I still experienced a mean +desire to show him some marks of reserve, for having thus disposed of +my company at a distance, without consulting me. + +"I am very grateful to you, Captain, for your extremely flattering +words. When do you wish to leave Wargla?" + +He made a gesture of complete detachment. + +"Whenever you like. Tomorrow, this evening. I have already delayed +you. Your preparations must have already been made for some time." + +My little maneuver had turned against myself. I had not been counting +on leaving before the next week. + +"Tomorrow, Captain, but your luggage?" + +He smiled delightfully. + +"I thought it best to bring as little as possible. A light pack, some +papers. My brave camel had no difficulty in bringing it along. For the +rest I depend on your advice, and the resources of Owargla." + +I was well caught. I had nothing further to say. And moreover, such +freedom of spirit and manner had already captivated me. + +"It seems," said my comrades, when the time for aperitives had brought +us all together again, "that this Captain of yours is a remarkably +charming fellow." + +"Remarkably." + +"You surely can't have any trouble with him. It is only up to you to +see that later on he doesn't get all the glory." + +"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively. + +I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment +I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence +persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, +everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife: + +"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it." + +I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening.... + +After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the +places where there are no more men who think and reason. + +Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming +over this new acquaintanceship. + +He presented him enthusiastically: + +"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man +after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, +but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea +before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to +give us." + +"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied +Morhange, with a quiet smile. + +The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter +rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the +newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have +I felt so sad. + +The time came to pass into the dining-room. + +"At my right, Captain," cried the Major, more and more beaming. "And I +hope you will keep on giving us these new lines on Paris. We are not +up with the times here, you know." + +"Yours to command, Major," said Morhange. + +"Be seated, gentlemen." + +The officers obeyed, with a joyous clatter of moving chairs. I had not +taken my eyes off Morhange, who was still standing. + +"Major, gentlemen, you will allow me," he said. + +And before sitting down at that table, where every moment he was the +life of the party, in a low voice, with his eyes closed, Captain +Morhange recited the Benedicite. + + + + +IV + +TOWARDS LATITUDE 25 + + +"You see," said Captain Morhange to me fifteen days later, "you are +much better informed about the ancient routes through the Sahara than +you have been willing to let me suppose, since you know of the +existence of the two Tadekkas. But the one of which you have just +spoken is the Tadekka of Ibn-Batoutah, located by this historian +seventy days from Touat, and placed by Schirmer, very plausibly, in +the unexplored territory of the Aouelimmiden. This is the Tadekka by +which the Sonrhai caravans passed every year, travelling by Egypt. + +"My Tadekka is different, the capital of the veiled people, placed by +Ibn-Khaldoun twenty days south of Wargla, which he calls Tadmekka. It +is towards this Tadmekka that I am headed. I must establish Tadmekka +in the ruins of Es-Souk. The commercial trade route, which in the +ninth century bound the Tunisian Djerid to the bend the Niger makes at +Bourroum, passed by Es-Souk. It is to study the possibility of +reestablishing this ancient thoroughfare that the Ministries gave me +this mission, which has given me the pleasure of your companionship." + +"You are probably in for a disappointment," I said. "Everything +indicates that the commerce there is very slight." + +"Well, I shall see," he answered composedly. + +This was while we were following the unicolored banks of a salt lake. +The great saline stretch shone pale-blue, under the rising sun. The +legs of our five mehara cast on it their moving shadows of a darker +blue. For a moment the only inhabitant of these solitudes, a bird, a +kind of indeterminate heron, rose and hung in the air, as if +suspended from a thread, only to sink back to rest as soon as we had +passed. + +I led the way, selecting the route, Morhange followed. Enveloped in a +bernous, his head covered with the straight _chechia_ of the Spahis, a +great chaplet of alternate red and white beads, ending in a cross, +around his neck, he realized perfectly the ideal of Father Lavigerie's +White Fathers. + +After a two-days' halt at Temassinin we had just left the road +followed by Flatters, and taken an oblique course to the south. I have +the honor of having antedated Fourcau in demonstrating the importance +of Temassinin as a geometrical point for the passage of caravans, and +of selecting the place where Captain Pein has just now constructed a +fort. The junction for the roads that lead to Touat from Fezzan and +Tibesti, Temassinin is the future seat of a marvellous Intelligence +Department. What I had collected there in two days about the +disposition of our Senoussis enemies was of importance. I noticed that +Morhange let me proceed with my inquiries with complete indifference. + +These two days he had passed in conversation with the old Negro +guardian of the turbet, which preserves, under its plaster dome, the +remains of the venerated Sidi-Moussa. The confidences they exchanged, +I am sorry to say that I have forgotten. But from the Negro's amazed +admiration, I realized the ignorance in which I stood to the mysteries +of the desert, and how familiar they were to my companion. + +And if you want to get any idea of the extraordinary originality which +Morhange introduced into such surroundings, you who, after all, have a +certain familiarity with the tropics, listen to this. It was exactly +two hundred kilometers from here, in the vicinity of the Great Dune, +in that horrible stretch of six days without water. We had just enough +for two days before reaching the next well, and you know these wells; +as Flatters wrote to his wife, "you have to work for hours before you +can clean them out and succeed in watering beasts and men." By chance +we met a caravan there, which was going east towards Rhadames, and had +come too far north. The camels' humps, shrunken and shaking, bespoke +the sufferings of the troop. Behind came a little gray ass, a pitiful +burrow, interfering at every step, and lightened of its pack because +the merchants knew that it was going to die. Instinctively, with its +last strength, it followed, knowing that when it could stagger no +longer, the end would come and the flutter of the bald vultures' +wings. I love animals, which I have solid reasons for preferring to +men. But never should I have thought of doing what Morhange did then. +I tell you that our water skins were almost dry, and that our own +camels, without which one is lost in the empty desert, had not been +watered for many hours. Morhange made his kneel, uncocked a skin, and +made the little ass drink. I certainly felt gratification at seeing +the poor bare flanks of the miserable beast pant with satisfaction. But +the responsibility was mine. Also I had seen Bou-Djema's aghast +expression, and the disapproval of the thirsty members of the caravan. +I remarked on it. How it was received! "What have I given," replied +Morhange, "was my own. We will reach El-Biodh to-morrow evening, about +six o'clock. Between here and there I know that I shall not be +thirsty." And that in a tone, in which for the first time he allowed +the authority of a Captain to speak. "That is easy to say," I thought, +ill-humoredly. "He knows that when he wants them, my water-skin, and +Bou-Djema's, are at his service." But I did not yet know Morhange very +well, and it is true that until the evening of the next day when we +reached El-Biodh, refusing our offers with smiling determination, he +drank nothing. + +Shades of St. Francis of Assisi! Umbrian hills, so pure under the +rising sun! It was in the light of a like sunrise, by the border of a +pale stream leaping in full cascades from a crescent-shaped niche of +the gray rocks of Egere, that Morhange stopped. The unlooked for +waters rolled upon the sand, and we saw, in the light which mirrored +them, little black fish. Fish in the middle of the Sahara! All three +of us were mute before this paradox of Nature. One of them had strayed +into a little channel of sand. He had to stay there, struggling in +vain, his little white belly exposed to the air.... Morhange picked +him up, looked at him for a moment, and put him back into the little +stream. Shades of St. Francis. Umbrian hills.... But I have sworn not +to break the thread of the story by these untimely digressions. + + * * * * * + +"You see," Captain Morhange said to me a week later, "that I was right +in advising you to go farther south before making for Shikh-Salah. +Something told me that this highland of Egere was not interesting from +your point of view. While here you have only to stoop to pick up +pebbles which will allow you to establish the volcanic origin of this +region much more certainly than Bou-Derba, des Cloizeaux, and Doctor +Marres have done." + +This was while we were following the western pass of the Tidifest +Mountains, about the 25th degree of northern latitude. + +"I should indeed be ungrateful not to thank you," I said. + +I shall always remember that instant. We had left our camels and were +collecting fragments of the most characteristic rocks. Morhange +employed himself with a discernment which spoke worlds for his +knowledge of geology, a science he had often professed complete +ignorance of. + +Then I asked him the following question: + +"May I prove my gratitude by making you a confession?" + +He raised his head and looked at me. + +"Well then, I don't see the practical value of this trip you have +undertaken." + +He smiled. + +"Why not? To explore the old caravan route, to demonstrate that a +connection has existed from the most ancient times between the +Mediterranean world, and the country of the Blacks, that seems nothing +in your eyes? The hope of settling once for all the secular disputes +which have divided so many keen minds; d'Anville, Heeren, Berlioux, +Quatremere on the one hand,--on the other Gosselin, Walckenaer, +Tissit, Vivien, de saint-Martin; you think that that is devoid of +interest? A plague upon you for being hard to please." + +"I spoke of practical value," I said. "You won't deny that this +controversy is only the affair of cabinet geographers and office +explorers." + +Morhange kept on smiling. + +"Dear friend, don't wither me. Deign to recall that your mission was +confided to you by the Ministry of War, while I hold mine on behalf of +the Ministry of Public Instruction. A different origin justifies our +different aims. It certainly explains, I readily concede that to you, +why what I am in search of has no practical value." + +"You are also authorized by the Ministry of Commerce," I replied, +playing my next card. "By this chief you are instructed to study the +possibility of restoring the old trade route of the ninth century. But +on this point don't attempt to mislead me; with your knowledge of the +history and geography of the Sahara, your mind must have been made up +before you left Paris. The road from Djerid to the Niger is dead, +stone dead. You knew that no important traffic would pass by this +route before you undertook to study the possibility of restoring it." + +Morhange looked me full in the face. + +"And if that should be so," he said with the most charming attitude, +"if I had before leaving the conviction you say, what do you conclude +from that?" + +"I should prefer to have you tell me." + +"Simply, my dear boy, that I had less skill than you in finding the +pretext for my voyage, that I furnished less good reasons for the true +motives that brought me here." + +"A pretext? I don't see...." + +"Be sincere in your turn, if you please. I am sure that you have the +greatest desire to inform the Arabian Office about the practices of +the Senoussis. But admit that the information that you will obtain is +not the sole and innermost aim of your excursion. You are a geologist, +my friend. You have found a chance to gratify your taste in this trip. +No one would think of blaming you because you have known how to +reconcile what is useful to your country and agreeable to yourself. +But, for the love of God, don't deny it; I need no other proof than +your presence here on this side of the Tidifest, a very curious place +from a mineralogical point of view, but some hundred and fifty +kilometers south of your official route." + +It was not possible to have countered me with a better grace. I +parried by attacking. + +"Am I to conclude from all this that I do not know the real aims of +your trip, and that they have nothing to do with the official +motives?" + +I had gone a bit too far. I felt it from the seriousness with which +Morhange's reply was delivered. + +"No, my dear friend, you must not conclude just that. I should have no +taste for a lie which was based on fraud towards the estimable +constitutional bodies which have judged me worthy of their confidence +and their support. The ends that they have assigned to me I shall do +my best to attain. But I have no reason for hiding from you that there +is another, quite personal, which is far nearer to my heart. Let us +say, if you will, to use a terminology that is otherwise deplorable, +that this is the end while the others are the means." + +"Would there be any indiscretion?...." + +"None," replied my companion. "Shikh-Salah is only a few days distant. +He whose first steps you have guided with such solicitude in the +desert should have nothing hidden from you." + +We had halted in the valley of a little dry well where a few sickly +plants were growing. A spring near by was circled by a crown of gray +verdure. The camels had been unsaddled for the night, and were seeking +vainly, at every stride, to nibble the spiny tufts of _had_. The black +and polished sides of the Tidifest Mountains rose, almost vertically, +above our heads. Already the blue smoke of the fire on which Bou-Djema +was cooking dinner rose through the motionless air. + +Not a sound, not a breath. The smoke mounted straight, straight and +slowly up the pale steps of the firmament. + +"Have you ever heard of the _Atlas of Christianity_?" asked Morhange. + +"I think so. Isn't it a geographical work published by the +Benedictines under the direction of a certain Dom Granger?" + +"Your memory is correct," said Morhange. "Even so let me explain a +little more fully some of the things you have not had as much reason +as I to interest yourself in. The _Atlas of Christianity_ proposes to +establish the boundaries of that great tide of Christianity through +all the ages, and for all parts of the globe. An undertaking worthy of +the Benedictine learning, worthy of such a prodigy of erudition as +Dom Granger himself." + +"And it is these boundaries that you have come to determine here, no +doubt," I murmured. + +"Just so," replied my companion. + +He was silent, and I respected his silence, prepared by now to be +astonished at nothing. + +"It is not possible to give confidences by halves, without being +ridiculous," he continued after several minutes of meditation, +speaking gravely, in a voice which held no suggestion of that flashing +humor which had a month before enchanted the young officers at Wargla. +"I have begun on mine. I will tell you everything. Trust my +discretion, however, and do not insist upon certain events of my +private life. If, four years ago, at the close of these events, I +resolve to enter a monastery, it does not concern you to know my +reasons. I can marvel at it myself, that the passage in my life of a +being absolutely devoid of interest should have sufficed to change the +current of that life. I can marvel that a creature whose sole merit +was her beauty should have been permitted by the Creator to swing my +destiny to such an unforeseen direction. The monastery at whose doors +I knocked had the most valid reasons for doubting the stability of my +vocation. What the world loses in such fashion it often calls back as +readily. In short, I cannot blame the Father Abbot for having +forbidden me to apply for my army discharge. By his instructions, I +asked for, and obtained, permission to be placed on the inactive list +for three years. At the end of those three years of consecration it +would be seen whether the world was definitely dead to your servant. + +"The first day of my arrival at the cloister I was assigned to Dom +Granger, and placed by him at work on the _Atlas of Christianity_. A +brief examination decided him as to what kind of service I was best +fitted to render. This is how I came to enter the studio devoted to +the cartography of Northern Africa. I did not know one word of Arabic, +but it happened that in garrison at Lyon I had taken at the _Faculte +des Lettres,_ a course with Berlioux,--a very erudite geographer no +doubt, but obsessed by one idea, the influence the Greek and Roman +civilizations had exercised on Africa. This detail of my life was +enough for Dom Granger. He provided me straightway with Berber +vocabularies by Venture, by Delaporte, by Brosselard; with the +_Grammatical Sketch of the Temahaq_ by Stanley Fleeman, and the _Essai +de Grammaire de la langue Temachek_ by Major Hanoteau. At the end of +three months I was able to decipher any inscriptions in Tifinar. You +know that Tifinar is the national writing of the Tuareg, the +expression of this Temachek language which seems to us the most +curious protest of the Targui race against its Mohammedan enemies. + +"Dom Granger, in fact, believed that the Tuareg are Christians, dating +from a period which it was necessary to ascertain, but which coincided +no doubt with the splendor of the church of Hippon. Even better than +I, you know that the cross is with them the symbol of fate in +decoration. Duveyrier has claimed that it figures in their alphabet, +on their arms, among the designs of their clothes. The only tattooing +that they wear on the forehead, on the back of the hand, is a cross +with four equal branches; the pummels of their saddles, the handles of +their sabres, of their poignards, are cross-shaped. And is it +necessary to remind you that, although Islam forbids bells as a sign +of Christianity, the harness of Tuareg camels are trimmed with bells? + +"Neither Dom Granger nor I attach an exaggerated importance to such +proofs, which resemble too much those which make such a display in the +_Genius of Christianity._ But it is indeed impossible to refuse all +credence to certain theological arguments. Amanai, the God of the +Tuareg, unquestionably the Adonai of the Bible, is unique. They have a +hell, 'Timsi-tan-elekhaft,' the last fire, where reigns Iblis, our +Lucifer. Their Paradise, where they are rewarded for good deeds, is +inhabited by 'andjelousen,' our angels. And do not urge the +resemblance of this theology to the Koran, for I will meet you with +historic arguments and remind you that the Tuareg have struggled all +through the ages at the cost of partial extermination, to maintain +their faith against the encroachments of Mohammedan fanaticism. + +"Many times I have studied with Dom Granger that formidable epoch when +the aborigines opposed the conquering Arabs. With him I have seen how +the army of Sidi-Okba, one of the companions of the Prophet, invaded +this desert to reduce the Tuareg tribes and impose on them Mussulman +rules. These tribes were then rich and prosperous. They were the +Ihbggaren, the Imededren, the Ouadelen, the Kel-Gueress, the Kel-Air. +But internal quarrels sapped their strength. Still, it was not until +after a long and cruel war that the Arabians succeeded in getting +possession of the capital of the Berbers, which had proved such a +redoubtable stronghold. They destroyed it after they had massacred the +inhabitants. On the ruins Okba constructed a new city. This city is +Es-Souk. The one that Sidi-Okba destroyed was the Berber Tadmekka. +What Dom Granger asked of me was precisely that I should try to exhume +from the ruins of the Mussulman Es-Souk the ruins of Tadmekka, which +was Berber, and perhaps Christian." + +"I understand," I murmured. + +"So far, so good," said Morhange. "But what you must grasp now is the +practical sense of these religious men, my masters. You remember that, +even after three years of monastic life, they preserved their doubts +as to the stability of my vocation. They found at the same time means +of testing it once for all, and of adapting official facilities to +their particular purposes. One morning I was called before the Father +Abbot, and this is what he said to me, in the presence of Dom Granger, +who expressed silent approval. + +"'Your term of inactive service expires in fifteen days. You will +return to Paris, and apply at the Ministry to be reinstated. With what +you have learned here, and the relationships we have been able to +maintain at Headquarters, you will have no difficulty in being +attached to the Geographical Staff of the army. When you reach the rue +de Grenelle you will receive our instructions.' + +"I was astonished at their confidence in my knowledge. When I was +reestablished as Captain again in the Geographical Service I +understood. At the monastery, the daily association with Dom Granger +and his pupils had kept me constantly convinced of the inferiority of +my knowledge. When I came in contact with my military brethren I +realized the superiority of the instruction I had received. I did not +have to concern myself with the details of my mission. The Ministries +invited me to undertake it. My initiative asserted itself on only one +occasion. When I learned that you were going to leave Wargla on the +present expedition, having reason to distrust my practical +qualifications as an explorer, I did my best to retard your departure, +so that I might join you. I hope that you have forgiven me by now." + + * * * * * + +The light in the west was fading, where the sun had already sunk into +a matchless luxury of violet draperies. We were alone in this +immensity, at the feet of the rigid black rocks. Nothing but +ourselves. Nothing, nothing but ourselves. + +I held out my hand to Morhange, and he pressed it. Then he said: + +"If they still seem infinitely long to me, the several thousand +kilometers which separate me from the instant when, my task +accomplished, I shall at last find oblivion in the cloister for the +things for which I was not made, let me tell you this;--the several +hundred kilometers which still separate us from Shikh-Salah seem to me +infinitely short to traverse in your company." + +On the pale water of the little pool, motionless and fixed like a +silver nail, a star had just been born. + +"Shikh-Salah," I murmured, my heart full of an indefinable sadness. +"Patience, we are not there yet." + +In truth, we never were to be there. + + + + +V + +THE INSCRIPTION + + +With a blow of the tip of his cane Morhange knocked a fragment of rock +from the black flank of the mountain. + +"What is it?" he asked, holding it out to me. + +"A basaltic peridot," I said. + +"It can't be very interesting, you barely glanced at it." + +"It is very interesting, on the contrary. But, for the moment, I admit +that I am otherwise preoccupied." + +"How?" + +"Look this way a bit," I said, showing towards the west, on the +horizon, a black spot across the white plain. + +It was six o'clock in the morning. The sun had risen. But it could not +be found in the surprisingly polished air. And not a breath of air, +not a breath. Suddenly one of the camels called. An enormous antelope +had just come in sight, and had stopped in its flight, terrified, +racing the wall of rock. It stayed there at a little distance from us, +dazed, trembling on its slender legs. + +Bou-Djema had rejoined us. + +"When the legs of the mohor tremble it is because the firmament is +shaken," he muttered. + +"A storm?" + +"Yes, a storm." + +"And you find that alarming?" + +I did not answer immediately. I was exchanging several brief words +with Bou-Djema, who was occupied in soothing the camels which were +giving signs of being restive. + +Morhange repeated his question. I shrugged my shoulders. + +"Alarming? I don't know. I have never seen a storm on the Hoggar. But +I distrust it. And the signs are that this is going to be a big one. +See there already." + +A slight dust had risen before the cliff. In the still air a few +grains of sand had begun to whirl round and round, with a speed which +increased to dizziness, giving us in advance the spectacle in +miniature of what would soon be breaking upon us. + +With harsh cries a flock of wild geese appeared, flying low. They came +out of the west. + +"They are fleeing towards the Sebkha d'Amanghor," said Bou-Djema. + +There could be no greater mistake, I thought. + +Morhange looked at me curiously. + +"What must we do?" he asked. + +"Mount our camels immediately, before they are completely +demoralized, and hurry to find shelter in some high places. Take +account of our situation. It is easy to follow the bed of a stream. +But within a quarter of an hour perhaps the storm will have burst. +Within a half hour a perfect torrent will be rushing here. On this +soil, which is almost impermeable, rain will roll like a pail of water +thrown on a bituminous pavement. No depth, all height. Look at this." + +And I showed him, a dozen meters high, long hollow gouges, marks of +former erosions on the rocky wall. + +"In an hour the waters will reach that height. Those are the marks of +the last inundation. Let us get started. There is not an instant to +lose." + +"All right," Morhange replied tranquilly. + +We had the greatest difficulty to make the camels kneel. When we had +thrown ourselves into the saddle they started off at a pace which +their terror rendered more and more disorderly. + +Of a sudden the wind began, a formidable wind, and, almost at the same +time the light was eclipsed in the ravine. Above our heads the sky had +become, in the flash of an eye, darker than the walls of the canyon +which we were descending at a breathless pace. + +"A path, a stairway in the wall," I screamed against the wind to my +companions. "If we don't find one in a minute we are lost." + +They did not hear me, but, turning in my saddle, I saw that they had +lost no distance, Morhange following me, and Bou-Djema in the rear +driving the two baggage camels masterfully before him. + +A blinding streak of lightning rent the obscurity. A peal of thunder, +re-echoed to infinity by the rocky wall, rang out, and immediately +great tepid drops began to fall. In an instant, our burnouses, which +had been blown out behind by the speed with which we were traveling, +were stuck tight to our streaming bodies. + +"Saved!" I exclaimed suddenly. + +Abruptly on our right a crevice opened in the midst of the wall. It +was the almost perpendicular bed of a stream, an affluent of the one +we had had the unfortunate idea of following that morning. Already a +veritable torrent was gushing over it with a fine uproar. + +I have never better appreciated the incomparable sure-footedness of +camels in the most precipitate places. Bracing themselves, stretching +out their great legs, balancing themselves among the rocks that were +beginning to be swept loose, our camels accomplished at that moment +what the mules of the Pyrannees might have failed in. + +After several moments of superhuman effort we found ourselves at last +out of danger, on a kind of basaltic terrace, elevated some fifty +meters above the channel of the stream we had just left. Luck was with +us; a little grotto opened out behind. Bou-Djema succeeded in +sheltering the camels there. From its threshold we had leisure to +contemplate in silence the prodigious spectacle spread out before us. + +You have, I believe, been at the Camp of Chalons for artillery drills. +You have seen when the shell bursts how the chalky soil of the Marne +effervesces like the inkwells at school, when we used to throw a piece +of calcium carbonate into them. Well, it was almost like that, but in +the midst of the desert, in the midst of obscurity. The white waters +rushed into the depths of the black hole, and rose and rose towards +the pedestal on which we stood. And there was the uninterrupted noise +of thunder, and still louder, the sound of whole walls of rock, +undermined by the flood, collapsing in a heap and dissolving in a few +seconds of time in the midst of the rising water. + +All the time that this deluge lasted, one hour, perhaps two, Morhange +and I stayed bending over this fantastic foaming vat; anxious to see, +to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a +kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we +had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the +water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful +it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare. + +Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each +other. + +Morhange held out his hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. + +And he added with a smile: + +"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been +pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of +decision, from this very paradoxical end." + +Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to +his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never +have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of +weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly. +No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did +happen. + + * * * * * + +Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's +camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the +torrent which was continuously rising with the impetuous inrush of its +unbridled tributaries. It had stopped raining. The sun shone from a +sky that had renewed its blueness. I could feel the clothes that had a +moment before been drenching, drying upon me incredibly fast. + +A hand was placed on my shoulder. Morhange was again beside me. + +"Come here," he said. + +Somewhat surprised, I followed him. We went into the grotto. + +The opening, which was big enough to admit the camels, made it fairly +light. Morhange led me up to the smooth face of rock opposite. "Look," +he said, with unconcealed joy. + +"What of it?" + +"Don't you see?" + +"I see that there are several Tuareg inscriptions," I answered, with +some disappointment. "But I thought I had told you that I read Tifinar +writing very badly. Are these writings more interesting than the +others we have come upon before?" + +"Look at this one," said Morhange. There was such an accent of triumph +in his tone that this time I concentrated my attention. + +I looked again. + +The characters of the inscription were arranged in the form of a +cross. It plays such an important part in this adventure that I cannot +forego retracing it for you. + + | + | + + +o o o o -- W + -- - + | + | + | + +[Transcriber's Note: This is but a crude ASCII representation of the +inscription. The center 'W' is rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise in +the book.] + +It was designed with great regularity, and the characters were cut +deep into the rock. Although I knew so little of rock inscriptions at +that time I had no difficulty in recognizing the antiquity of this +one. + +Morhange became more and more radiant as he regarded it. + +I looked at him questioningly. + +"Well, what have you to say now?" he asked. + +"What do you want me to say? I tell you that I can barely read +Tifinar." + +"Shall I help you?" he suggested. + +This course in Berber writing, after the emotions through which we had +just passed, seemed to me a little inopportune. But Morhange was so +visibly delighted that I could not dash his joy. + +"Very well then," began my companion, as much at his, ease as if he had +been before a blackboard, "what will strike you first about this +inscription is its repetition in the form of a cross. That is to say +that it contains the same word twice, top to bottom, and right to left. +The word which it composes has seven letters so the fourth letter, W +[Transcriber's Note: Rotated 90 deg. counter-clockwise], comes naturally +in the middle. This arrangement which is unique in Tifinar writing, is +already remarkable enough. But there is better still. Now we will read +it." + +Getting it wrong three times out of seven I finally succeeded, with +Morhange's help, in spelling the word. + +"Have you got it?" asked Morhange when I had finished my task. + +"Less than ever," I answered, a little put out; +"a,n,t,i,n,h,a,--Antinha, I don't know that word, or anything like it, +in all the Saharan dialects I am familiar with." + +Morhange rubbed his hands together. His satisfaction was without +bounds. + +"You have said it. That is why the discovery is unique." + +"Why?" + +"There is really nothing, either in Berber or in Arabian, analogous to +this word." + +"Then?" + +"Then, my dear friend, we are in the presence of a foreign word, +translated into Tifinar." + +"And this word belongs, according to your theory, to what language?" + +"You must realize that the letter _e_ does not exist in the Tifinar +alphabet. It has here been replaced by the phonetic sign which is +nearest to it,--h. Restore _e_ to the place which belongs to it in the +word, and you have--" + +"Antinea." + +"'Antinea,' precisely. We find ourselves before a Greek vocable +reproduced in Tifinar. And I think that now you will agree with me +that my find has a certain interest." + +That day we had no more conferences upon texts. A loud cry, anguished, +terrifying, rang out. + +We rushed out to find a strange spectacle awaiting us. + +Although the sky had cleared again, the torrent of yellow water was +still foaming and no one could predict when it would fall. In +mid-stream, struggling desperately in the current, was an +extraordinary mass, gray and soft and swaying. + +But what at the first glance overwhelmed us with astonishment was to +see Bou-Djema, usually so calm, at this moment apparently beside +himself with frenzy, bounding through the gullies and over the rocks +of the ledge, in full pursuit of the shipwreck. + +Of a sudden I seized Morhange by the arm. The grayish thing was alive. +A pitiful long neck emerged from it with the heartrending cry of a +beast in despair. + +"The fool," I cried, "he has let one of our beasts get loose, and the +stream is carrying it away!" + +"You are mistaken," said Morhange. "Our camels are all in the cave. +The one Bou-Djema is running after is not ours. And the cry of anguish +we just heard, that was not Bou-Djema either. Bou-Djema is a brave +Chaamb who has at this moment only one idea, to appropriate the +intestate capital represented by this camel in the stream." + +"Who gave that cry, then?" + +"Let us try, if you like, to explore up this stream that our guide is +descending at such a rate." + +And without waiting for my answer he had already set out through the +recently washed gullies of the rocky bank. + +At that moment it can be truly said that Morhange went to meet his +destiny. + +I followed him. We had the greatest difficulty in proceeding two or +three hundred meters. Finally we saw at our feet a little rushing +brook where the water was falling a trifle. + +"See there?" said Morhange. + +A blackish bundle was balancing on the waves of the creek. + +When we had come up even with it we saw that it was a man in the long +dark blue robes of the Tuareg. + +"Give me your hand," said Morhange, "and brace yourself against a +rock, hard." + +He was very, very strong. In an instant, as if it were child's play, +he had brought the body ashore. + +"He is still alive," he pronounced with satisfaction. "Now it is a +question of getting him to the grotto. This is no place to resuscitate +a drowned man." + +He raised the body in his powerful arms. + +"It is astonishing how little he weighs for a man of his height." + +By the time we had retraced the way to the grotto the man's cotton +clothes were almost dry. But the dye had run plentifully, and it was +an indigo man that Morhange was trying to recall to life. + +When I had made him swallow a quart of rum he opened his eyes, looked +at the two of us with surprise, then, closing them again, murmured +almost unintelligibly a phrase, the sense of which we did not get +until some days later: + +"Can it be that I have reached the end of my mission?" + +"What mission is he talking about?" I said. + +"Let him recover himself completely," responded Morhange. "You had +better open some preserved food. With fellows of this build you don't +have to observe the precautions prescribed for drowned Europeans." + +It was indeed a species of giant, whose life we had just saved. His +face, although very thin, was regular, almost beautiful. He had a +clear skin and little beard. His hair, already white, showed him to be +a man of sixty years. + +When I placed a tin of corned-beef before him a light of voracious joy +came into his eyes. The tin contained an allowance for four persons. +It was empty in a flash. + +"Behold," said Morhange, "a robust appetite. Now we can put our +questions without scruple." + +Already the Targa had placed over his forehead and face the blue veil +prescribed by the ritual. He must have been completely famished not to +have performed this indispensable formality sooner. There was nothing +visible now but the eyes, watching us with a light that grew steadily +more sombre. + +"French officers," he murmured at last. + +And he took Morhange's hand, and having placed it against his breast, +carried it to his lips. + +Suddenly an expression of anxiety passed over his face. + +"And my mehari?" he asked. + +I explained that our guide was then employed in trying to save his +beast. He in turn told us how it had stumbled, and fallen into the +current, and he himself, in trying to save it, had been knocked over. +His forehead had struck a rock. He had cried out. After that he +remembered nothing more. + +"What is your name?" I asked. + +"Eg-Anteouen." + +"What tribe do you belong to?" + +"The tribe of Kel-Tahat." + +"The Kel-Tahats are the serfs of the tribe of Kel-Rhela, the great +nobles of Hoggar?" + +"Yes," he answered, casting a side glance in my direction. It seemed +that such precise questions on the affairs of Ahygar were not to his +liking. + +"The Kel-Tahats, if I am not mistaken, are established on the +southwest flank of Atakor.[5] What were you doing, so far from your +home territory when we saved your life?" + +[Footnote 5: Another name, in the Temahaq language, for Ahaggar. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +"I was going, by way of Tit, to In-Salah," he said. + +"What were you going to do at In-Salah?" + +He was about to reply. But suddenly we saw him tremble. His eyes were +fixed on a point of the cavern. We looked to see what it was. He had +just seen the rock inscription which had so delighted Morhange an hour +before. + +"Do you know that?" Morhange asked him with keen curiosity. + +The Targa did not speak a word but his eyes had a strange light. + +"Do you know that?" insisted Morhange. + +And he added: + +"Antinea?" + +"Antinea," repeated the man. + +And he was silent. + +"Why don't you answer the Captain?" I called out, with a strange +feeling of rage sweeping over me. + +The Targui looked at me. I thought that he was going to speak. But his +eyes became suddenly hard. Under the lustrous veil I saw his features +stiffening. + +Morhange and I turned around. + +On the threshold of the cavern, breathless, discomfited, harassed by +an hour of vain pursuit, Bou-Djema had returned to us. + + + + +VI + +THE DISASTER OF THE LETTUCE + + +As Eg-Anteouen and Bou-Djema came face to face, I fancied that both +the Targa and the Chaamba gave a sudden start which each immediately +repressed. It was nothing more than a fleeting impression. +Nevertheless, it was enough to make me resolve that as soon as I was +alone with our guide, I would question him closely concerning our new +companion. + +The beginning of the day had been wearisome enough. We decided, +therefore, to spend the rest of it there, and even to pass the night +in the cave, waiting till the flood had completely subsided. + +In the morning, when I was marking our day's march upon the map, +Morhange came toward me. I noticed that his manner was somewhat +restrained. + +"In three days, we shall be at Shikh-Salah," I said to him. "Perhaps +by the evening of the second day, badly as the camels go." + +"Perhaps we shall separate before then," he muttered. + +"How so?" + +"You see, I have changed my itinerary a little. I have given up the +idea of going straight to Timissao. First I should like to make a +little excursion into the interior of the Ahaggar range." + +I frowned: + +"What is this new idea?" + +As I spoke I looked about for Eg-Anteouen, whom I had seen in +conversation with Morhange the previous evening and several minutes +before. He was quietly mending one of his sandals with a waxed thread +supplied by Bou-Djema. He did not raise his head. + +"It is simply," explained Morhange, less and less at his ease, "that +this man tells me there are similar inscriptions in several caverns in +western Ahaggar. These caves are near the road that he has to take +returning home. He must pass by Tit. Now, from Tit, by way of Silet, +is hardly two hundred kilometers. It is a quasi-classic route[6] as +short again as the one that I shall have to take alone, after I leave +you, from Shikh-Salah to Timissao. That is in part, you see, the +reason which has made me decide to...." + +[Footnote 6: The route and the stages from Tit to Timissao were +actually plotted out, as early as 1888, by Captain Bissuel. _Les +Tuarge de l'Ouest,_ itineraries 1 and 10. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"In part? In very small part," I replied. "But is your mind absolutely +made up?" + +"It is," he answered me. + +"When do you expect to leave me?" + +"To-day. The road which Eg-Anteouen proposes to take into Ahaggar +crosses this one about four leagues from here. I have a favor to ask +of you in this connection." + +"Please tell me." + +"It is to let me take one of the two baggage camels, since my Targa +has lost his." + +"The camel which carries your baggage belongs to you as much as does +your own mehari," I answered coldly. + +We stood there several minutes without speaking. Morhange maintained +an uneasy silence; I was examining my map. All over it in greater or +less degree, but particularly towards the south, the unexplored +portions of Ahaggar stood out as far too numerous white patches in the +tan area of supposed mountains. + +I finally said: + +"You give me your word that when you have seen these famous grottos, +you will make straight for Timissao by Tit and Silet?" + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +"Why do you ask that?" + +"Because, if you promise me that,--provided, of course, that my +company is not unwelcome to you--I will go with you. Either way, I +shall have two hundred kilometers to go. I shall strike for +Shikh-Salah from the south, instead of from the west--that is the only +difference." + +Morhange looked at me with emotion. + +"Why do you do this?" he murmured. + +"My dear fellow," I said (it was the first time that I had addressed +Morhange in this familiar way), "my dear fellow, I have a sense which +becomes marvellously acute in the desert, the sense of danger. I gave +you a slight proof of it yesterday morning, at the coming of the +storm. With all your knowledge of rock inscriptions, you seem to me to +have no very exact idea of what kind of place Ahaggar is, nor what may +be in store for you there. On that account, I should be just as well +pleased not to let you run sure risks alone." + +"I have a guide," he said with his adorable naivete. + +Eg-Anteouen, in the same squatting position, kept on patching his old +slipper. + +I took a step toward him. + +"You heard what I said to the Captain?" + +"Yes," the Targa answered calmly. + +"I am going with him. We leave you at Tit, to which place you must +bring us. Where is the place you proposed to show the Captain?" + +"I did not propose to show it to him; it was his own idea," said the +Targa coldly. "The grottos with the inscriptions are three-days' march +southward in the mountains. At first, the road is rather rough. But +farther on, it turns, and you gain Timissao very easily. There are +good wells where the Tuareg Taitoqs, who are friendly to the French, +come to water their camels." + +"And you know the road well?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. His eyes had a scornful smile. + +"I have taken it twenty times," he said. + +"In that case, let's get started." + +We rode for two hours. I did not exchange a word with Morhange. I had +a clear intuition of the folly we were committing in risking ourselves +so unconcernedly in that least known and most dangerous part of the +Sahara. Every blow which had been struck in the last twenty years to +undermine the French advance had come from this redoubtable Ahaggar. +But what of it? It was of my own will that I had joined in this mad +scheme. No need of going over it again. What was the use of spoiling +my action by a continual exhibition of disapproval? And, furthermore, +I may as well admit that I rather liked the turn that our trip was +beginning to take. I had, at that instant, the sensation of journeying +toward something incredible, toward some tremendous adventure. You do +not live with impunity for months and years as the guest of the +desert. Sooner or later, it has its way with you, annihilates the good +officer, the timid executive, overthrows his solicitude for his +responsibilities. What is there behind those mysterious rocks, those +dim solitudes, which have held at bay the most illustrious pursuers of +mystery? You follow, I tell you, you follow. + + * * * * * + +"Are you sure at least that this inscription is interesting enough to +justify us in our undertaking?" I asked Morhange. + +My companion started with pleasure. Ever since we began our journey I +had realized his fear that I was coming along half-heartedly. As soon +as I offered him a chance to convince me, his scruples vanished, and +his triumph seemed assured to him. + +"Never," he answered, in a voice that he tried to control, but through +which the enthusiasm rang out, "never has a Greek inscription been +found so far south. The farthest points where they have been reported +are in the south of Algeria and Cyrene. But in Ahaggar! Think of it! +It is true that this one is translated into Tifinar. But this +peculiarity does not diminish the interest of the coincidence: it +increases it." + +"What do you take to be the meaning of this word?" + +"_Antinea_ can only be a proper name," said Morhange. "To whom does it +refer? I admit I don't know, and if at this very moment I am marching +toward the south, dragging you along with me, it is because I count on +learning more about it. Its etymology? It hasn't one definitely, but +there are thirty possibilities. Bear in mind that the Tifinar alphabet +is far from tallying with the Greek alphabet, which increases the +number of hypotheses. Shall I suggest several?" + +"I was just about to ask you to." + +"To begin with, there is [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], _the woman +who is placed opposite a vessel_, an explanation which would have been +pleasing to Gaffarel and to my venerated master Berlioux. That would +apply well enough to the figure-heads of ships. There is a technical +term that I cannot recall at this moment, not if you beat me a hundred +times over.[7] + +[Footnote 7: It is perhaps worth noting here that _Figures de Proues_ +is the exact title of a very remarkable collection of poems by Mme. +Delarus-Mardrus. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"Then there is [Greek: agtinea], that you must relate to [Greek: agti] +and [Greek: naos], _she who holds herself before the_ [Greek: naos], +the [Greek: naos] of the temple, _she who is opposite the sanctuary,_ +therefore priestess. An interpretation which would enchant Girard and +Renan. + +"Next we have [Greek: agtine], from [Greek: agti] and [Greek: neos], +new, which can mean two things: either _she who is the contrary of +young_, which is to say old; or _she who is the enemy of novelty_ or +_the enemy of youth_. + +"There is still another sense of [Greek: gati], _in exchange for,_ +which is capable of complicating all the others I have mentioned; +likewise there are four meanings for the verb [Greek: neo], which +means in turn _to go, to flow, to thread_ or _weave, to heap_. There +is more still.... And notice, please, that I have not at my +disposition on the otherwise commodious hump of this mehari, either +the great dictionary of Estienne or the lexicons of Passow, of Pape, +or of Liddel-Scott. This is only to show you, my dear friend, that +epigraphy is but a relative science, always dependent on the discovery +of a new text which contradicts the previous findings, when it is not +merely at the mercy of the humors of the epigraphists and their pet +conceptions of the universe. + +"That was rather my view of it," I said, "But I must admit my +astonishment to find that, with such a sceptical opinion of the goal, +you still do not hesitate to take risks which may be quite +considerable." + +Morhange smiled wanly. + +"I do not interpret, my friend; I collect. From what I will take back +to him, Dom Granger has the ability to draw conclusions which are +beyond my slight knowledge. I was amusing myself a little. Pardon me." + +Just then the girth of one of the baggage camels, evidently not well +fastened, came loose. Part of the load slipped and fell to the ground. + +Eg-Anteouen descended instantly from his beast and helped Bou-Djema +repair the damage. + +When they had finished, I made my mehari walk beside Bou-Djema's. + +"It will be better to resaddle the camels at the next stop. They will +have to climb the mountain." + +The guide looked at me with amazement. Up to that time I had thought +it unnecessary to acquaint him with our new projects. But I supposed +Eg-Anteouen would have told him. + +"Lieutenant, the road across the white plain to Shikh-Salah is not +mountainous," said the Chaamba. + +"We are not keeping to the road across the white plain. We are going +south, by Ahaggar." + +"By Ahaggar," he murmured. "But...." + +"But what?" + +"I do not know the road." + +"Eg-Anteouen is going to guide us." + +"Eg-Anteouen!" + +I watched Bou-Djema as he made this suppressed ejaculation. His eyes +were fixed on the Targa with a mixture of stupor and fright. + +Eg-Anteouen's camel was a dozen yards ahead of us, side by side with +Morhange's. The two men were talking. I realized that Morhange must be +conversing with Eg-Anteouen about the famous inscriptions. But we were +not so far behind that they could not have overheard our words. + +Again I looked at my guide. I saw that he was pale. + +"What is it, Bou-Djema?" I asked in a low voice. + +"Not here, Lieutenant, not here," he muttered. + +His teeth chattered. He added in a whisper: + +"Not here. This evening, when we stop, when he turns to the East to +pray, when the sun goes down. Then, call me to you. I will tell +you.... But not here. He is talking, but he is listening. Go ahead. +Join the Captain." + +"What next?" I murmured, pressing my camel's neck with my foot so as +to make him overtake Morhange. + + * * * * * + +It was about five o'clock when Eg-Anteouen who was leading the way, +came to a stop. + +"Here it is," he said, getting down from his camel. + +It was a beautiful and sinister place. To our left a fantastic wall of +granite outlined its gray ribs against the sky. This wall was pierced, +from top to bottom, by a winding corridor about a thousand feet high +and scarcely wide enough in places to allow three camels to walk +abreast. + +"Here it is," repeated the Targa. + +To the west, straight behind us, the track that we were leaving +unrolled like a pale ribbon. The white plain, the road to Shikh-Salah, +the established halts, the well-known wells.... And, on the other +side, this black wall against the mauve sky, this dark passage. + +I looked at Morhange. + +"We had better stop here," he said simply. "Eg-Anteouen advises us to +take as much water here as we can carry." + +With one accord we decided to spend the night there, before +undertaking the mountain. + +There was a spring, in a dark basin, from which fell a little cascade; +there were a few shrubs, a few plants. + +Already the camels were browsing at the length of their tethers. + +Bou-Djema arranged our camp dinner service of tin cups and plates on a +great flat stone. An opened tin of meat lay beside a plate of lettuce +which he had just gathered from the moist earth around the spring. I +could tell from the distracted manner in which he placed these objects +upon the rock how deep was his anxiety. + +As he was bending toward me to hand me a plate, he pointed to the +gloomy black corridor which we were about to enter. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf!"_ he murmured. + +"What did he say?" asked Morhange, who had seen the gesture. + +"_Blad-el-Khouf. This is the country of fear._ That is what the Arabs +call Ahaggar." + +Bou-Djema went a little distance off and sat down, leaving us to our +dinner. Squatting on his heels, he began to eat a few lettuce leaves +that he had kept for his own meal. + +Eg-Anteouen was still motionless. + +Suddenly the Targa rose. The sun in the west was no larger than a red +brand. We saw Eg-Anteouen approach the fountain, spread his blue +burnous on the ground and kneel upon it. + +"I did not suppose that the Tuareg were so observant of Mussulman +tradition," said Morhange. + +"Nor I," I replied thoughtfully. + +But I had something to do at that moment besides making such +speculations. + +"Bou-Djema," I called. + +At the same time, I looked at Eg-Anteouen. Absorbed in his prayer, +bowed toward the west, apparently he was paying no attention to me. As +he prostrated himself, I called again. + +"Bou-Djema, come with me to my mehari; I want to get something out of +the saddle bags." + +Still kneeling, Eg-Anteouen was mumbling his prayer slowly, +composedly. + +But Bou-Djema had not budged. + +His only response was a deep moan. + +Morhange and I leaped to our feet and ran to the guide. Eg-Anteouen +reached him as soon as we did. + +With his eyes closed and his limbs already cold, the Chaamba breathed +a death rattle in Morhange's arms. I had seized one of his hands. +Eg-Anteouen took the other. Each, in his own way, was trying to +divine, to understand.... + +Suddenly Eg-Anteouen leapt to his feet. He had just seen the poor +embossed bowl which the Arab had held an instant before between his +knees, and which now lay overturned upon the ground. + +He picked it up, looked quickly at one after another of the leaves of +lettuce remaining in it, and then gave a hoarse exclamation. + +"So," said Morhange, "it's his turn now; he is going to go mad." + +Watching Eg-Anteouen closely, I saw him hasten without a word to the +rock where our dinner was set, a second later, he was again beside us, +holding out the bowl of lettuce which he had not yet touched. + +Then he took a thick, long, pale green leaf from Bou-Djema's bowl and +held it beside another leaf he had just taken from our bowl. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ was all he said. + +I shuddered, and so did Morhange. It was the _afahlehla,_ the +_falestez_, of the Arabs of the Sahara, the terrible plant which had +killed a part of the Flatters mission more quickly and surely than +Tuareg arms. + +Eg-Anteouen stood up. His tall silhouette was outlined blackly against +the sky which suddenly had turned pale lilac. He was watching us. + +We bent again over the unfortunate guide. + +"_Afahlehle,"_ the Targa repeated, and shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Bou-Djema died in the middle of the night without having regained +consciousness. + + + + +VII + +THE COUNTRY OF FEAR + + +"It is curious," said Morhange, "to see how our expedition, uneventful +since we left Ouargla, is now becoming exciting." + +He said this after kneeling for a moment in prayer before the +painfully dug grave in which we had lain the guide. + +I do not believe in God. But if anything can influence whatever powers +there may be, whether of good or of evil, of light or of darkness, it +is the prayer of such a man. + +For two days we picked our way through a gigantic chaos of black rock +in what might have been the country of the moon, so barren was it. No +sound but that of stones rolling under the feet of the camels and +striking like gunshots at the foot of the precipices. + +A strange march indeed. For the first few hours, I tried to pick out, +by compass, the route we were following. But my calculations were soon +upset; doubtless a mistake due to the swaying motion of the camel. I +put the compass back in one of my saddle-bags. From that time on, +Eg-Anteouen was our master. We could only trust ourselves to him. + +He went first; Morhange followed him, and I brought up the rear. We +passed at every step most curious specimens of volcanic rock. But I +did not examine them. I was no longer interested in such things. +Another kind of curiosity had taken possession of me. I had come to +share Morhange's madness. If my companion had said to me: "We are +doing a very rash thing. Let us go back to the known trails," I should +have replied, "You are free to do as you please. But I am going on." + +Toward evening of the second day, we found ourselves at the foot of a +black mountain whose jagged ramparts towered in profile seven thousand +feet above our heads. It was an enormous shadowy fortress, like the +outline of a feudal stronghold silhouetted with incredible sharpness +against the orange sky. + +There was a well, with several trees, the first we had seen since +cutting into Ahaggar. + +A group of men were standing about it. Their camels, tethered close +by, were cropping a mouthful here and there. + +At seeing us, the men drew together, alert, on the defensive. + +Eg-Anteouen turned to us and said: + +"Eggali Tuareg." + +We went toward them. + +They were handsome men, those Eggali, the largest Tuareg whom I ever +have seen. With unexpected swiftness they drew aside from the well, +leaving it to us. Eg-Anteouen spoke a few words to them. They looked +at Morhange and me with a curiosity bordering on fear, but at any +rate, with respect. + +I drew several little presents from my saddlebags and was astonished +at the reserve of the chief, who refused them. He seemed afraid even +of my glance. + +When they had gone, I expressed my astonishment at this shyness for +which my previous experiences with the tribes of the Sahara had not +prepared me. + +"They spoke with respect, even with fear," I said to Eg-Anteouen. "And +yet the tribe of the Eggali is noble. And that of the Kel-Tahats, to +which you tell me you belong, is a slave tribe." + +A smile lighted the dark eyes of Eg-Anteouen. + +"It is true," he said. + +"Well then?" + +"I told them that we three, the Captain, you and I, were bound for the +Mountain of the Evil Spirits." + +With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain. + +"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain +of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very +mention of its name." + +"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?" +queried Morhange. + +"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I +told you about." + +"You did not mention that detail to us." + +"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the _ilhinen,_ spirits with +horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die +and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not +afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg." + +"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the +_ilhinen_?" + +Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a +chain of white seeds. + +"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable +Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You +have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!" + +As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long +reed pipe and began to smoke gravely. + +"All this is beginning to seem very strange," said Morhange, coming +over to me. + +"You can say that without exaggeration," I replied. "You remember as +well as I the passage in which Barth tells of his expedition to the +Idinen, the Mountain of the Evil Spirits of the Azdjer Tuareg. The +region had so evil a reputation that no Targa would go with him. But +he got back." + +"Yes, he got back," replied my comrade, "but only after he had been +lost. Without water or food, he came so near dying of hunger and +thirst that he had to open a vein and drink his own blood. The +prospect is not particularly attractive." + +I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was not my fault that we were +there. + +Morhange understood my gesture and thought it necessary to make +excuses. + +"I should be curious," he went on with rather forced gaiety, "to meet +these spirits and substantiate the facts of Pomponius Mela who knew +them and locates them, in fact, in the mountain of the Tuareg. He +calls them _Egipans, Blemyens, Gamphasantes, Satyrs.... 'The +Gamphasantes_, he says, 'are naked. The _Blemyens_ have no head: their +faces are placed on their chests; the _Satyrs_ have nothing like men +except faces. The _Egipans_ are made as is commonly described.' ... +_Satyrs, Egipans_ ... isn't it very strange to find Greek names given +to the barbarian spirits of this region? Believe me, we are on a +curious trail; I am sure that Antinea will be our key to remarkable +discoveries." + +"Listen," I said, laying a finger on my lips. + +Strange sounds rose from about us as the evening advanced with great +strides. A kind of crackling, followed by long rending shrieks, echoed +and reechoed to infinity in the neighboring ravines. It seemed to me +that the whole black mountain suddenly had begun to moan. + +We looked at Eg-Anteouen. He was smoking on, without twitching a +muscle. + +"The _ilhinen_ are waking up," he said simply. + +Morhange listened without saying a word. Doubtless he understood as I +did: the overheated rocks, the crackling of the stone, a whole series +of physical phenomena, the example of the singing statue of Memnon.... +But, for all that, this unexpected concert reacted no less painfully +on our overstrained nerves. + +The last words of poor Bou-Djema came to my mind. + +"The country of fear," I murmured in a low voice. + +And Morhange repeated: + +"The country of fear." + +The strange concert ceased as the first stars appeared in the sky. +With deep emotion we watched the tiny bluish flames appear, one after +another. At that portentous moment they seemed to span the distance +between us, isolated, condemned, lost, and our brothers of higher +latitudes, who at that hour were rushing about their poor pleasures +with delirious frenzy in cities where the whiteness of electric lamps +came on in a burst. + +_Chet-Ahadh essa hetisenet +Materedjre d'Erredjaot, +Matesekek d-Essekaot, +Matelahrlahr d'Ellerhaot, +Ettas djenen, barad tit-ennit abatet._ + +Eg-Anteouen's voice raised itself in slow guttural tones. It resounded +with sad, grave majesty in the silence now complete. + +I touched the Targa's arm. With a movement of his head, he pointed to +a constellation glittering in the firmament. + +"The Pleiades," I murmured to Morhange, showing him the seven pale +stars, while Eg-Anteouen took up his mournful song in the same +monotone: + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven: + Materedjre and Erredjeaot, + Matesekek and Essekaot, + Matelahrlahr and Ellerhaot, + The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown away." + +A sudden sickness came over me. I seized the Targa's arm as he was +starting to intone his refrain for the third time. + +"When will we reach this cave with the inscriptions?" I asked +brusquely. + +He looked at me and replied with his usual calm: + +"We are there." + +"We are there? Then why don't you show it to us?" + +"You did not ask me," he replied, not without a touch of insolence. + +Morhange had jumped to his feet. + +"The cave is here?" + +"It is here," Eg-Anteouen replied slowly, rising to his feet. + +"Take us to it." + +"Morhange," I said, suddenly anxious, "night is falling. We will see +nothing. And perhaps it is still some way off." + +"It is hardly five hundred paces," Eg-Anteouen replied. "The cave is +full of dead underbrush. We will set it on fire and the Captain will +see as in full daylight." + +"Come," my comrade repeated. + +"And the camels?" I hazarded. + +"They are tethered," said Eg-Anteouen, "and we shall not be gone +long." + +He had started toward the black mountain. Morhange, trembling with +excitement, followed. I followed, too, the victim of profound +uneasiness. My pulses throbbed. "I am not afraid," I kept repeating to +myself. "I swear that this is not fear." + +And really it was not fear. Yet, what a strange dizziness! There was a +mist over my eyes. My ears buzzed. Again I heard Eg-Anteouen's voice, +but multiplied, immense, and at the same time, very low. + +"The Daughters of the Night are seven...." + +It seemed to me that the voice of the mountain, re-echoing, repeated +that sinister last line to infinity: + +"And the seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has flown +away." + +"Here it is," said the Targa. + +A black hole in the wall opened up. Bending over, Eg-Anteouen entered. +We followed him. The darkness closed around us. + +A yellow flame. Eg-Anteouen had struck his flint. He set fire to a +pile of brush near the surface. At first we could see nothing. The +smoke blinded us. + +Eg-Anteouen stayed at one side of the opening of the cave. He was +seated and, more inscrutible than ever, had begun again to blow great +puffs of gray smoke from his pipe. + +The burning brush cast a flickering light. I caught a glimpse of +Morhange. He seemed very pale. With both hands braced against the +wall, he was working to decipher a mass of signs which I could +scarcely distinguish. + +Nevertheless, I thought I could see his hands trembling. + +"The devil," I thought, finding it more and more difficult to +co-ordinate my thoughts, "he seems to be as unstrung as I." + +I heard him call out to Eg-Anteouen in what seemed to me a loud voice: + +"Stand to one side. Let the air in. What a smoke!" + +He kept on working at the signs. + +Suddenly I heard him again, but with difficulty. It seemed as if even +sounds were confused in the smoke. + +"Antinea ... At last ... Antinea. But not cut in the rock ... the +marks traced in ochre ... not ten years old, perhaps not five.... +Oh!...." + +He pressed his hands to his head. Again he cried out: + +"It is a mystery. A tragic mystery." + +I laughed teasingly. + +"Come on, come on. Don't get excited over it." + +He took me by the arm and shook me. I saw his eyes big with terror and +astonishment. + +"Are you mad?" he yelled in my face. + +"Not so loud," I replied with the same little laugh. + +He looked at me again, and sank down, overcome, on a rock opposite me. +Eg-Anteouen was still smoking placidly at the mouth of the cave. We +could see the red circle of his pipe glowing in the darkness. + +"Madman! Madman!" repeated Morhange. His voice seemed to stick in his +throat. + +Suddenly he bent over the brush which was giving its last darts of +flame, high and clear. He picked out a branch which had not yet +caught. I saw him examine it carefully, then throw it back in the fire +with a loud laugh. + +"Ha! Ha! That's good, all right!" + +He staggered toward Eg-Anteouen, pointing to the fire. + +"It's hemp. Hasheesh, hasheesh. Oh, that's a good one, all right." + +"Yes, it's a good one," I repeated, bursting into laughter. + +Eg-Anteouen quietly smiled approval. The dying fire lit his +inscrutable face and flickered in his terrible dark eyes. + +A moment passed. Suddenly Morhange seized the Targa's arm. + +"I want to smoke, too," he said. "Give me a pipe." The specter gave +him one. + +"What! A European pipe?" + +"A European pipe," I repeated, feeling gayer and gayer. + +"With an initial, 'M.' As if made on purpose. M.... Captain Morhange." + +"Masson," corrected Eg-Anteouen quietly. + +"Captain Masson," I repeated in concert with Morhange. + +We laughed again. + +"Ha! Ha! Ha! Captain Masson.... Colonel Flatters.... The well of +Garama. They killed him to take his pipe ... that pipe. It was +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh who killed Captain Masson." + +"It was Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," repeated the Targa with imperturbable +calm. + +"Captain Masson and Colonel Flatters had left the convoy to look for +the well," said Morhange, laughing. + +"It was then that the Tuareg attacked them," I finished, laughing as +hard as I could. + +"A Targa of Ahagga seized the bridle of Captain Masson's horse," said +Morhange. + +"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had hold of Colonel Flatters' bridle," put in +Eg-Anteouen. + +"The Colonel puts his foot in the stirrup and receives a cut from +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh's saber," I said. + +"Captain Masson draws his revolver and fires on Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, +shooting off three fingers of his left hand," said Morhange. + +"But," finished Eg-Anteouen imperturbably, "but Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, +with one blow of his saber, splits Captain Masson's skull.".. + +He gave a silent, satisfied laugh as he spoke. The dying flame lit up +his face. We saw the gleaming black stem of his pipe. He held it in +his left hand. One finger, no, two fingers only on that hand. Hello! I +had not noticed that before. + +Morhange also noticed it, for he finished with a loud laugh. + +"Then, after splitting his skull, you robbed him. You took his pipe +from him. Bravo, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh!" + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh does not reply, but I can see how satisfied with +himself he is. He keeps on smoking. I can hardly see his features now. +The firelight pales, dies. I have never laughed so much as this +evening. I am sure Morhange never has, either. Perhaps he will forget +the cloister. And all because Cegheir-ben-Cheikh stole Captain +Masson's pipe.... + +Again that accursed song. "The seventh is a boy, one of whose eyes has +flown away." One cannot imagine more senseless words. It is very +strange, really: there seem to be four of us in this cave now. Four, I +say, five, six, seven, eight.... Make yourselves at home, my friends. +What! there are no more of you?... I am going to find out at last how +the spirits of this region are made, the _Gamphasantes_, the +_Blemyens_.... Morhange says that the _Blemyens_ have their faces on +the middle of their chests. Surely this one who is seizing me in his +arms is not a _Blemyen_! Now he is carrying me outside. And Morhange +... I do not want them to forget Morhange.... + +They did not forget him; I see him perched on a camel in front of that +one to which I am fastened. They did well to fasten me, for otherwise +I surely would tumble off. These spirits certainly are not bad +fellows. But what a long way it is! I want to stretch out. To sleep. A +while ago we surely were following a long passage, then we were in the +open air. Now we are again in an endless stifling corridor. Here are +the stars again.... Is this ridiculous course going to keep on?... + +Hello, lights! Stars, perhaps. No, lights, I say. A stairway, on my +word; of rocks, to be sure, but still, a stairway. How can the +camels...? But it is no longer a camel; this is a man carrying me. A +man dressed in white, not a _Gamphasante_ nor a _Blemyen_. Morhange +must be giving himself airs with his historical reasoning, all false, +I repeat, all false. Good Morhange. Provided that his _Gamphasante_ +does not let him fall on this unending stairway. Something glitters on +the ceiling. Yes, it is a lamp, a copper lamp, as at Tunis, at +Barbouchy's. Good, here again you cannot see anything. But I am making +a fool of myself; I am lying down; now I can go to sleep. What a silly +day!... Gentlemen, I assure you that it is unnecessary to bind me: I +do not want to go down on the boulevards. + +Darkness again. Steps of someone going away. Silence. + +But only for a moment. Someone is talking beside me. What are they +saying?... No, it is impossible. That metallic ring, that voice. Do +you know what it is calling, that voice, do you know what it is +calling in the tones of someone used to the phrase? Well, it is +calling: + +"Play your cards, gentlemen, play your cards. There are ten thousand +_louis_ in the bank. Play your cards, gentlemen." + +In the name of God, am I or am I not at Ahaggar? + + + + +VIII + +AWAKENING AT AHAGGAR + + +It was broad daylight when I opened my eyes. I thought at once of +Morhange. I could not see him, but I heard him, close by, giving +little grunts of surprise. + +I called to him. He ran to me. + +"Then they didn't tie you up?" I asked. + +"I beg your pardon. They did. But they did it badly; I managed to get +free." + +"You might have untied me, too," I remarked crossly. + +"What good would it have done? I should only have waked you up. And I +thought that your first word would be to call me. There, that's done." + +I reeled as I tried to stand on my feet. + +Morhange smiled. + +"We might have spent the whole night smoking and drinking and not been +in a worse state," he said. "Anyhow, that Eg-Anteouen with his +hasheesh is a fine rascal." + +"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I corrected. + +I rubbed my hand over my forehead. + +"Where are we?" + +"My dear boy," Morhange replied, "since I awakened from the +extraordinary nightmare which is mixed up with the smoky cave and the +lamp-lit stairway of the Arabian Nights, I have been going from +surprise to surprise, from confusion to confusion. Just look around +you." + +I rubbed my eyes and stared. Then I seized my friend's hand. + +"Morhange," I begged, "tell me if we are still dreaming." + +We were in a round room, perhaps fifty feet in diameter, and of about +the same height, lighted by a great window opening on a sky of intense +blue. + +Swallows flew back and forth, outside, giving quick, joyous cries. + +The floor, the incurving walls and the ceiling were of a kind of +veined marble like porphyry, panelled with a strange metal, paler than +gold, darker than silver, clouded just then by the early morning mist +that came in through the window in great puffs. + +I staggered toward this window, drawn by the freshness of the breeze +and the sunlight which was chasing away my dreams, and I leaned my +elbows on the balustrade. + +I could not restrain a cry of delight. + +I was standing on a kind of balcony, cut into the flank of a mountain, +overhanging an abyss. Above me, blue sky; below appeared a veritable +earthly paradise hemmed in on all sides by mountains that formed a +continuous and impassable wall about it. A garden lay spread out down +there. The palm trees gently swayed their great fronds. At their feet +was a tangle of the smaller trees which grow in an oasis under their +protection: almonds, lemons, oranges, and many others which I could +not distinguish from that height. A broad blue stream, fed by a +waterfall, emptied into a charming lake, the waters of which had the +marvellous transparency which comes in high altitudes. Great birds +flew in circles over this green hollow; I could see in the lake the +red flash of a flamingo. + +The peaks of the mountains which towered on all sides were completely +covered with snow. + +The blue stream, the green palms, the golden fruit, and above it all, +the miraculous snow, all this bathed in that limpid air, gave such an +impression of beauty, of purity, that my poor human strength could no +longer stand the sight of it. I laid my forehead on the balustrade, +which, too, was covered with that heavenly snow, and began to cry like +a baby. + +Morhange was behaving like another child. But he had awakened before I +had, and doubtless had had time to grasp, one by one, all these +details whose fantastic _ensemble_ staggered me. + +He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me back into the +room. + +"You haven't seen anything yet," he said. "Look! Look!" + +"Morhange!" + +"Well, old man, what do you want me to do about it? Look!" + +I had just realized that the strange room was furnished--God forgive +me--in the European fashion. There were indeed, here and there, round +leather Tuareg cushions, brightly colored blankets from Gafsa, rugs +from Kairouan, and Caramani hangings which, at that moment, I should +have dreaded to draw aside. But a half-open panel in the wall showed a +bookcase crowded with books. A whole row of photographs of +masterpieces of ancient art were hung on the walls. Finally there was +a table almost hidden under its heap of papers, pamphlets, books. I +thought I should collapse at seeing a recent number of the +_Archaeological Review_. + +I looked at Morhange. He was looking at me, and suddenly a mad laugh +seized us and doubled us up for a good minute. + +"I do not know," Morhange finally managed to say, "whether or not we +shall regret some day our little excursion into Ahaggar. But admit, in +the meantime, that it promises to be rich in unexpected adventures. +That unforgettable guide who puts us to sleep just to distract us +from the unpleasantness of caravan life and who lets me experience, in +the best of good faith, the far-famed delights of hasheesh: that +fantastic night ride, and, to cap the climax, this cave of a Nureddin +who must have received the education of the Athenian Bersot at the +French _Ecole Normale_--all this is enough, on my word, to upset the +wits of the best balanced." + +"What do I think, my poor friend? Why, just what you yourself think. I +don't understand it at all, not at all. What you politely call my +learning is not worth a cent. And why shouldn't I be all mixed up? +This living in caves amazes me. Pliny speaks of the natives living in +caves, seven days' march southwest of the country of the Amantes, and +twelve days to the westward of the great Syrte. Herodotus says also +that the Garamentes used to go out in their chariots to hunt the +cave-dwelling Ethopians. But here we are in Ahaggar, in the midst of +the Targa country, and the best authorities tell us that the Tuareg +never have been willing to live in caves. Duveyrier is precise on that +point. And what is this, I ask you, but a cave turned into a workroom, +with pictures of the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Sauroctone on the +walls? I tell you that it is enough to drive you mad." + +And Morhange threw himself on a couch and began to roar with laughter +again. + +"See," I said, "this is Latin." + +I had picked up several scattered papers from the work-table in the +middle of the room. Morhange took them from my hands and devoured them +greedily. His face expressed unbounded stupefaction. + +"Stranger and stranger, my boy. Someone here is composing, with much +citation of texts, a dissertation on the Gorgon Islands: _de Gorgonum +insulis_. Medusa, according to him, was a Libyan savage who lived near +Lake Triton, our present Chott Melhrir, and it is there that Perseus +... Ah!" + +Morhange's words choked in his throat. A sharp, shrill voice pierced +the immense room. + +"Gentlemen, I beg you, let my papers alone." + +I turned toward the newcomer. + +One of the Caramani curtains was drawn aside, and the most unexpected +of persons came in. Resigned as we were to unexpected events, the +improbability of this sight exceeded anything our imaginations could +have devised. + +On the threshold stood a little bald-headed man with a pointed sallow +face half hidden by an enormous pair of green spectacles and a pepper +and salt beard. No shirt was visible, but an impressive broad red +cravat. He wore white trousers. Red leather slippers furnished the +only Oriental suggestion of his costume. + +He wore, not without pride, the rosette of an officer of the +Department of Education. + +He collected the papers which Morhange had dropped in his amazement, +counted them, arranged them; then, casting a peevish glance at us, he +struck a copper gong. + +The portiere was raised again. A huge white Targa entered. I seemed to +recognize him as one of the genii of the cave.[8] + +[Footnote 8: The Negro serfs among the Tuareg are generally called +"white Tuareg." While the nobles are clad in blue cotton robes, the +serfs wear white robes, hence their name of "white Tuareg." See, in +this connection, Duveyrier: _les Tuareg du Nord_, page 292. (Note by +M. Leroux.)] + +"Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of +Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?" + +The Targa bowed respectfully. + +"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, +"and last night the embalmers had not yet finished. They brought them +here in the meantime," and he pointed to us. + +"Very well, you may go," snapped the little man. + +Ferradji backed toward the door. On the threshold, he stopped and +spoke again: + +"I was to remind you, sir, that dinner is served." + +"All right. Go along." + +And the little man seated himself at the desk and began to finger the +papers feverishly. + +I do not know why, but a mad feeling of exasperation seized me. I +walked toward him. + +"Sir," I said, "my friend and I do not know where we are nor who you +are. We can see only that you are French, since you are wearing one of +the highest honorary decorations of our country. You may have made the +same observation on your part," I added, indicating the slender red +ribbon which I wore on my vest. + +He looked at me in contemptuous surprise. + +"Well, sir?" + +"Well, sir, the Negro who just went out pronounced the name of +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, the name of a brigand, a bandit, one of the +assassins of Colonel Flatters. Are you acquainted with that detail, +sir?" + +The little man surveyed me coldly and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Certainly. But what difference do you suppose that makes to me?" + +"What!" I cried, beside myself with rage. "Who are you, anyway?" + +"Sir," said the little old man with comical dignity, turning to +Morhange, "I call you to witness the strange manners of your +companion. I am here in my own house and I do not allow...." + +"You must excuse my comrade, sir," said Morhange, stepping forward. +"He is not a man of letters, as you are. These young lieutenants are +hot-headed, you know. And besides, you can understand why both of us +are not as calm as might be desired." + +I was furious and on the point of disavowing these strangely humble +words of Morhange. But a glance showed me that there was as much irony +as surprise in his expression. + +"I know indeed that most officers are brutes," grumbled the little old +man. "But that is no reason...." + +"I am only an officer myself," Morhange went on, in an even humbler +tone, "and if ever I have been sensible to the intellectual +inferiority of that class, I assure you that it was now in glancing--I +beg your pardon for having taken the liberty to do so--in glancing +over the learned pages which you devote to the passionate story of +Medusa, according to Procles of Carthage, cited by Pausanias." + +A laughable surprise spread over the features of the little old man. +He hastily wiped his spectacles. + +"What!" he finally cried. + +"It is indeed unfortunate, in this matter," Morhange continued +imperturbably, "that we are not in possession of the curious +dissertation devoted to this burning question by Statius Sebosus, a +work which we know only through Pliny and which...." + +"You know Statius Sebosus?" + +"And which, my master, the geographer Berlioux...." + +"You knew Berlioux--you were his pupil?" stammered the little man with +the decoration. + +"I have had that honor," replied Morhange, very coldly. + +"But, but, sir, then you have heard mentioned, you are familiar with +the question, the problem of Atlantis?" + +"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois +de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly. + +"My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. +"Sir--Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...." + +Just then, the portiere was raised. Ferradji appeared again. + +"Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin +without you." + +"I am coming, I am coming. Say, Ferradji, that we will be there in a +moment. Why, sir, if I had foreseen ... It is extraordinary ... to +find an officer who knows Procles of Carthage and Arbois de +Jubainville. Again ... But I must introduce myself. I am Etienne Le +Mesge, Fellow of the University." + +"Captain Morhange," said my companion. + +I stepped forward in my turn. + +"Lieutenant de Saint-Avit. It is a fact, sir, that I am very likely to +confuse Arbois of Carthage with Procles de Jubainville. Later, I shall +have to see about filling up those gaps. But just now, I should like +to know where we are, if we are free, and if not, what occult power +holds us. You have the appearance, sir, of being sufficiently at home +in this house to be able to enlighten us upon this point, which I must +confess, I weakly consider of the first importance." + +M. Le Mesge looked at me. A rather malevolent smile twitched the +corners of his mouth. He opened his lips.... + +A gong sounded impatiently. + +"In good time, gentlemen, I will tell you. I will explain +everything.... But now you see that we must hurry. It is time for +lunch and our fellow diners will get tired of waiting." + +"Our fellow diners?" + +"There are two of them," M. Le Mesge explained. "We three constitute +the European personnel of the house, that is, the fixed personnel," he +seemed to feel obliged to add, with his disquieting smile. "Two +strange fellows, gentlemen, with whom, doubtless, you will care to +have as little to do as possible. One is a churchman, narrow-minded, +though a Protestant. The other is a man of the world gone astray, an +old fool." + +"Pardon," I said, "but it must have been he whom I heard last night. +He was gambling: with you and the minister, doubtless?" + +M. Le Mesge made a gesture of offended dignity. + +"The idea! With me, sir? It is with the Tuareg that he plays. He +teaches them every game imaginable. There, that is he who is striking +the gong to hurry us up. It is half past nine, and the _Salle de +Trente et Quarante_ opens at ten o'clock. Let us hurry. I suppose that +anyway you will not be averse to a little refreshment." + +"Indeed we shall not refuse," Morhange replied. + +We followed M. Le Mesge along a long winding corridor with frequent +steps. The passage was dark. But at intervals rose-colored night +lights and incense burners were placed in niches cut into the solid +rock. The passionate Oriental scents perfumed the darkness and +contrasted strangely with the cold air of the snowy peaks. + +From time to time, a white Targa, mute and expressionless as a +phantom, would pass us and we would hear the clatter of his slippers +die away behind us. + +M. Le Mesge stopped before a heavy door covered with the same pale +metal which I had noticed on the walls of the library. He opened it +and stood aside to let us pass. + +Although the dining room which we entered had little in common with +European dining rooms, I have known many which might have envied its +comfort. Like the library, it was lighted by a great window. But I +noticed that it had an outside exposure, while that of the library +overlooked the garden in the center of the crown of mountains. + +No center table and none of those barbaric pieces of furniture that we +call chairs. But a great number of buffet tables of gilded wood, like +those of Venice, heavy hangings of dull and subdued colors, and +cushions, Tuareg or Tunisian. In the center was a huge mat on which a +feast was placed in finely woven baskets among silver pitchers and +copper basins filled with perfumed water. The sight of it filled me +with childish satisfaction. + +M. Le Mesge stepped forward and introduced us to the two persons who +already had taken their places on the mat. + +"Mr. Spardek," he said; and by that simple phrase I understood how far +our host placed himself above vain human titles. + +The Reverend Mr. Spardek, of Manchester, bowed reservedly and asked +our permission to keep on his tall, wide-brimmed hat. He was a dry, +cold man, tall and thin. He ate in pious sadness, enormously. + +"Monsieur Bielowsky," said M. Le Mesge, introducing us to the second +guest. + +"Count Casimir Bielowsky, Hetman of Jitomir," the latter corrected +with perfect good humor as he stood up to shake hands. + +I felt at once a certain liking for the Hetman of Jitomir who was a +perfect example of an old beau. His chocolate-colored hair was parted +in the center (later I found out that the Hetman dyed it with a +concoction of _khol_). He had magnificent whiskers, also +chocolate-colored, in the style of the Emperor Francis Joseph. His +nose was undeniably a little red, but so fine, so aristocratic. His +hands were marvelous. It took some thought to place the date of the +style of the count's costume, bottle green with yellow facings, +ornamented with a huge seal of silver and enamel. The recollection of +a portrait of the Duke de Morny made me decide on 1860 or 1862; and +the further chapters of this story will show that I was not far wrong. + +The count made me sit down beside him. One of his first questions was +to demand if I ever cut fives.[9] + +[Footnote 9: _Tirer a cinq_, a card game played only for very high +stakes.] + +"That depends on how I feel," I replied. + +"Well said. I have not done so since 1866. I swore off. A row. The +devil of a party. One day at Walewski's. I cut fives. Naturally I +wasn't worrying any. The other had a four. 'Idiot!' cried the little +Baron de Chaux Gisseux who was laying staggering sums on my table. I +hurled a bottle of champagne at his head. He ducked. It was Marshal +Baillant who got the bottle. A scene! The matter was fixed up because +we were both Free Masons. The Emperor made me promise not to cut fives +again. I have kept my promise not to cut fives again. I have kept my +promise. But there are moments when it is hard...." + +He added in a voice steeped in melancholy: + +"Try a little of this Ahaggar 1880. Excellent vintage. It is I, +Lieutenant, who instructed these people in the uses of the juice of +the vine. The vine of the palm trees is very good when it is properly +fermented, but it gets insipid in the long run." + +It was powerful, that Ahaggar 1880. We sipped it from large silver +goblets. It was fresh as Rhine wine, dry as the wine of the Hermitage. +And then, suddenly, it brought back recollections of the burning wines +of Portugal; it seemed sweet, fruity, an admirable wine, I tell you. + +That wine crowned the most perfect of luncheons. There were few meats, +to be sure; but those few were remarkably seasoned. Profusion of +cakes, pancakes served with honey, fragrant fritters, cheese-cakes of +sour milk and dates. And everywhere, in great enamel platters or +wicker jars, fruit, masses of fruit, figs, dates, pistachios, jujubes, +pomegranates, apricots, huge bunches of grapes, larger than those +which bent the shoulders of the Hebrews in the land of Canaan, heavy +watermelons cut in two, showing their moist, red pulp and their rows +of black seeds. + +I had scarcely finished one of these beautiful iced fruits, when M. Le +Mesge rose. + +"Gentlemen, if you are ready," he said to Morhange and me. + +"Get away from that old dotard as soon as you can," whispered the +Hetman of Jitomir to me. "The party of _Trente et Quarante_ will begin +soon. You shall see. You shall see. We go it even harder than at Cora +Pearl's." + +"Gentlemen," repeated M. Le Mesge in his dry tone. + +We followed him. When the three of us were back again in the library, +he said, addressing me: + +"You, sir, asked a little while ago what occult power holds you here. +Your manner was threatening, and I should have refused to comply had +it not been for your friend, whose knowledge enables him to appreciate +better than you the value of the revelations I am about to make to +you." + +He touched a spring in the side of the wall. A cupboard appeared, +stuffed with books. He took one. + +"You are both of you," continued M. Le Mesge, "in the power of a +woman. This woman, the sultaness, the queen, the absolute sovereign of +Ahaggar, is called Antinea. Don't start, M. Morhange, you will soon +understand." + +He opened the book and read this sentence: + +"'I must warn you before I take up the subject matter: do not be +surprised to hear me call the barbarians by Greek names.'" + +"What is that book?" stammered Morhange, whose pallor terrified me. + +"This book," M. Le Mesge replied very slowly, weighing his words, with +an extraordinary expression of triumph, "is the greatest, the most +beautiful, the most secret, of the dialogues of Plato; it is the +Critias of Atlantis." + +"The Critias? But it is unfinished," murmured Morhange. + +"It is unfinished in France, in Europe, everywhere else," said M. Le +Mesge, "but it is finished here. Look for yourself at this copy." + +"But what connection," repeated Morhange, while his eyes traveled +avidly over the pages, "what connection can there be between this +dialogue, complete,--yes, it seems to me complete--what connection +with this woman, Antinea? Why should it be in her possession?" + +"Because," replied the little man imperturbably, "this book is her +patent of nobility, her _Almanach de Gotha_, in a sense, do you +understand? Because it established her prodigious genealogy: because +she is...." + +"Because she is?" repeated Morhange. + +"Because she is the grand daughter of Neptune, the last descendant of +the Atlantides." + + + + +IX + +ATLANTIS + + +M. Le Mesge looked at Morhange triumphantly. It was evident that he +addressed himself exclusively to Morhange, considering him alone +worthy of his confidences. + +"There have been many, sir," he said, "both French and foreign +officers who have been brought here at the caprice of our sovereign, +Antinea. You are the first to be honored by my disclosures. But you +were the pupil of Berlioux, and I owe so much to the memory of that +great man that it seems to me I may do him homage by imparting to one +of his disciples the unique results of my private research." + +He struck the bell. Ferradji appeared. + +"Coffee for these gentlemen," ordered M. Le Mesge. + +He handed us a box, gorgeously decorated in the most flaming colors, +full of Egyptian cigarettes. + +"I never smoke," he explained. "But Antinea sometimes comes here. +These are her cigarettes. Help yourselves, gentlemen." + +I have always had a horror of that pale tobacco which gives a barber +of the Rue de la Michodiere the illusion of oriental voluptuousness. +But, in their way, these musk-scented cigarettes were not bad, and it +was a long time since I had used up my stock of Caporal. + +"Here are the back numbers of _Le Vie Parisienne_" said M. Le Mesge +to me. "Amuse yourself with them, if you like, while I talk to your +friend." + +"Sir," I replied brusquely, "it is true that I never studied with +Berlioux. Nevertheless, you must allow me to listen to your +conversation: I shall hope to find something in it to amuse me." + +"As you wish," said the little old man. + +We settled ourselves comfortably. M. Le Mesge sat down before the +desk, shot his cuffs, and commenced as follows: + +"However much, gentlemen, I prize complete objectivity in matters of +erudition, I cannot utterly detach my own history from that of the +last descendant of Clito and Neptune. + +"I am the creation of my own efforts. From my childhood, the +prodigious impulse given to the science of history by the nineteenth +century has affected me. I saw where my way led. I have followed it, +in spite of everything. + +"In spite of everything, everything--I mean it literally. With no +other resources than my own work and merit, I was received as Fellow +of History and Geography at the examination of 1880. A great +examination! Among the thirteen who were accepted there were names +which have since become illustrious: Julian, Bourgeois, Auerbach.... I +do not envy my colleagues on the summits of their official honors; I +read their works with commiseration; and the pitiful errors to which +they are condemned by the insufficiency of their documents would amply +counterbalance my chagrin and fill me with ironic joy, had I not been +raised long since above the satisfaction of self-love. + +"When I was Professor at the Lycee du Parc at Lyons. I knew Berlioux +and followed eagerly his works on African History. I had, at that +time, a very original idea for my doctor's thesis. I was going to +establish a parallel between the Berber heroine of the seventh +century, who struggled against the Arab invader, Kahena, and the +French heroine, Joan of Arc, who struggled against the English +invader. I proposed to the _Faculte des Lettres_ at Paris this title +for my thesis: _Joan of Arc and the Tuareg_. This simple announcement +gave rise to a perfect outcry in learned circles, a furor of +ridicule. My friends warned me discreetly. I refused to believe them. +Finally I was forced to believe when my rector summoned me before him +and, after manifesting an astonishing interest in my health, asked +whether I should object to taking two years' leave on half pay. I +refused indignantly. The rector did not insist; but fifteen days +later, a ministerial decree, with no other legal procedure, assigned +me to one of the most insignificant and remote Lycees of France, at +Mont-de-Marsan. + +"Realize my exasperation and you will excuse the excesses to which I +delivered myself in that strange country. What is there to do in +Landes, if you neither eat nor drink? I did both violently. My pay +melted away in _fois gras_, in woodcocks, in fine wines. The result +came quickly enough: in less than a year my joints began to crack like +the over-oiled axle of a bicycle that has gone a long way upon a dusty +track. A sharp attack of gout nailed me to my bed. Fortunately, in +that blessed country, the cure is in reach of the suffering. So I +departed to Dax, at vacation time, to try the waters. + +"I rented a room on the bank of the Adour, overlooking the _Promenade +des Baignots_. A charwoman took care of it for me. She worked also for +an old gentleman, a retired Examining Magistrate, President of the +Roger-Ducos Society, which was a vague scientific backwater, in which +the scholars of the neighborhood applied themselves with prodigious +incompetence to the most whimsical subjects. One afternoon I stayed in +my room on account of a very heavy rain. The good woman was +energetically polishing the copper latch of my door. She used a paste +called Tripoli, which she spread upon a paper and rubbed and +rubbed.... The peculiar appearance of the paper made me curious. I +glanced at it. 'Great heavens! Where did you get this paper?' She was +perturbed. 'At my master's; he has lots of it. I tore this out of a +notebook.' 'Here are ten francs. Go and get me the notebook.' + +"A quarter of an hour later, she was back with it. By good luck it +lacked only one page, the one with which she had been polishing my +door. This manuscript, this notebook, have you any idea what it was? +Merely the _Voyage to Atlantis_ of the mythologist Denis de Milet, +which is mentioned by Diodorus and the loss of which I had so often +heard Berlioux deplore.[10] + +[Footnote 10: How did the _Voyage to Atlantis_ arrive at Dax? I have +found, so far, only one credible hypothesis: it might have been +discovered in Africa by the traveller, de Behagle, a member of the +Roger-Ducos Society, who studied at the college of Dax, and later, on +several occasions, visited the town. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"This inestimable document contained numerous quotations from the +Critias. It gave an abstract of the illustrious dialogue, the sole +existing copy of which you held in your hands a little while ago. It +established past controversy the location of the stronghold of the +Atlantides, and demonstrated that this site, which is denied by +science, was not submerged by the waves, as is supposed by the rare +and timorous defenders of the Atlantide hypothesis. He called it the +'central Mazycian range,' You know there is no longer any doubt as to +the identification of the Mazyces of Herodotus with the people of +Imoschaoch, the Tuareg. But the manuscript of Denys unquestionably +identifies the historical Mazyces with the Atlantides of the supposed +legend. + +"I learned, therefore, from Denys, not only that the central part of +Atlantis, the cradle and home of the dynasty of Neptune, had not sunk +in the disaster described by Plato as engulfing the rest of the +Atlantide isle, but also that it corresponded to the Tuareg Ahaggar, +and that, in this Ahaggar, at least in his time, the noble dynasty of +Neptune was supposed to be still existent. + +"The historians of Atlantis put the date of the cataclysm which +destroyed all or part of that famous country at nine thousand years +before Christ. If Denis de Milet, who wrote scarcely three thousand +years ago, believed that in his time, the dynastic issue of Neptune +was still ruling its dominion, you will understand that I thought +immediately--what has lasted nine thousand years may last eleven +thousand. From that instant I had only one aim: to find the possible +descendants of the Atlantides, and, since I had many reasons for +supposing them to be debased and ignorant of their original splendor, +to inform them of their illustrious descent. + +"You will easily understand that I imparted none of my intentions to +my superiors at the University. To solicit their approval or even +their permission, considering the attitude they had taken toward me, +would have been almost certainly to invite confinement in a cell. So I +raised what I could on my own account, and departed without trumpet or +drum for Oran. On the first of October I reached In-Salah. Stretched +at my ease beneath a palm tree, at the oasis, I took infinite pleasure +in considering how, that very day, the principal of Mont-de-Marsan, +beside himself, struggling to control twenty horrible urchins howling +before the door of an empty class room, would be telegraphing wildly +in all directions in search of his lost history professor." + +M. Le Mesge stopped and looked at us to mark his satisfaction. + +I admit that I forgot my dignity and I forgot the affectation he had +steadily assumed of talking only to Morhange. + +"You will pardon me, sir, if your discourse interests me more than I +had anticipated. But you know very well that I lack the fundamental +instruction necessary to understand you. You speak of the dynasty of +Neptune. What is this dynasty, from which, I believe, you trace the +descent of Antinea? What is her role in the story of Atlantis?" + +M. Le Mesge smiled with condescension, meantime winking at Morhange +with the eye nearest to him. Morhange was listening without +expression, without a word, chin in hand, elbow on knee. + +"Plato will answer for me, sir," said the Professor. + +And he added, with an accent of inexpressible pity: + +"Is it really possible that you have never made the acquaintance of +the introduction to the Critias?" + +He placed on the table the book by which Morhange had been so +strangely moved. He adjusted his spectacles and began to read. It +seemed as if the magic of Plato vibrated through and transfigured this +ridiculous little old man. + +"'Having drawn by lot the different parts of the earth, the gods +obtained, some a larger, and some, a smaller share. It was thus that +Neptune, having received in the division the isle of Atlantis, came to +place the children he had had by a mortal in one part of that isle. +It was not far from the sea, a plain situated in the midst of the +isle, the most beautiful, and, they say, the most fertile of plains. +About fifty stades from that plain, in the middle of the isle, was a +mountain. There dwelt one of those men who, in the very beginning, was +born of the Earth, Evenor, with his wife, Leucippe. They had only one +daughter, Clito. She was marriageable when her mother and father died, +and Neptune, being enamored of her, married her. Neptune fortified the +mountain where she dwelt by isolating it. He made alternate girdles of +sea and land, the one smaller, the others greater, two of earth and +three of water, and centered them round the isle in such a manner that +they were at all parts equally distant!..." + +M. Le Mesge broke off his reading. + +"Does this arrangement recall nothing to you?" he queried. + +"Morhange, Morhange!" I stammered. "You remember--our route yesterday, +our abduction, the two corridors that we had to cross before arriving +at this mountain?... The girdles of earth and of water?... Two +tunnels, two enclosures of earth?" + +"Ha! Ha!" chuckled M. Le Mesge. + +He smiled as he looked at me. I understood that this smile meant: "Can +he be less obtuse than I had supposed?" + +As if with a mighty effort, Morhange broke the silence. + +"I understand well enough, I understand.... The three girdles of +water.... But then, you are supposing, sir,--an explanation the +ingeniousness of which I do not contest--you are supposing the exact +hypothesis of the Saharan sea!" + +"I suppose it, and I can prove it," replied the irascible little old +chap, banging his fist on the table. "I know well enough what Schirmer +and the rest have advanced against it. I know it better than you do. I +know all about it, sir. I can present all the proofs for your +consideration. And in the meantime, this evening at dinner, you will +no doubt enjoy some excellent fish. And you will tell me if these +fish, caught in the lake that you can see from this window, seem to +you fresh water fish. + +"You must realize," he continued, "the mistake of those who, believing +in Atlantis, have sought to explain the cataclysm in which they +suppose the island to have sunk. Without exception, they have thought +that it was swallowed up. Actually, there has not been an immersion. +There has been an emersion. New lands have emerged from the Atlantic +wave. The desert has replaced the sea, the _sebkhas_, the salt lakes, +the Triton lakes, the sandy Syrtes are the desolate vestiges of the +free sea water over which, in former days, the fleets swept with a +fair wind towards the conquest of Attica. Sand swallows up +civilization better than water. To-day there remains nothing of the +beautiful isle that the sea and winds kept gay and verdant but this +chalky mass. Nothing has endured in this rocky basin, cut off forever +from the living world, but the marvelous oasis that you have at your +feet, these red fruits, this cascade, this blue lake, sacred witnesses +to the golden age that is gone. Last evening, in coming here, you had +to cross the five enclosures: the three belts of water, dry forever; +the two girdles of earth through which are hollowed the passages you +traversed on camel back, where, formerly, the triremes floated. The +only thing that, in this immense catastrophe, has preserved its +likeness to its former state, is this mountain, the mountain where +Neptune shut up his well-beloved Clito, the daughter of Evenor and +Leucippe, the mother of Atlas, and the ancestress of Antinea, the +sovereign under whose dominion you are about to enter forever." + +"Sir," Morhange with the most exquisite courtesy, "it would be only a +natural anxiety which would urge us to inquire the reasons and the end +of this dominion. But behold to what extent your revelation interests +me; I defer this question of private interest. Of late, in two +caverns, it has been my fortune to discover Tifinar inscriptions of +this name, Antinea. My comrade is witness that I took it for a Greek +name. I understand now, thanks to you and the divine Plato, that I +need no longer feel surprised to hear a barbarian called by a Greek +name. But I am no less perplexed as to the etymology of the word. Can +you enlighten me?" + +"I shall certainly not fail you there, sir," said M. Le Mesge. "I may +tell you, too, that you are not the first to put to me that question. +Most of the explorers that I have seen enter here in the past ten +years have been attracted in the same way, intrigued by this Greek +work reproduced in Tifinar. I have even arranged a fairly exact +catalogue of these inscriptions and the caverns where they are to be +met with. All, or almost all, are accompanied by this legend: +_Antinea. Here commences her domain_. I myself have had repainted with +ochre such as were beginning to be effaced. But, to return to what I +was telling you before, none of the Europeans who have followed this +epigraphic mystery here, have kept their anxiety to solve this +etymology once they found themselves in Antinea's palace. They all +become otherwise preoccupied. I might make many disclosures as to the +little real importance which purely scientific interests possess even +for scholars, and the quickness with which they sacrifice them to the +most mundane considerations--their own lives, for instance." + +"Let us take that up another time, sir, if it is satisfactory to you," +said Morhange, always admirably polite. + +"This digression had only one point, sir: to show you that I do not +count you among these unworthy scholars. You are really eager to know +the origin of this name, _Antinea_, and that before knowing what kind +of woman it belongs to and her motives for holding you and this +gentleman as her prisoners." + +I stared hard at the little old man. But he spoke with profound +seriousness. + +"So much the better for you, my boy," I thought. "Otherwise it +wouldn't have taken me long to send you through the window to air your +ironies at your ease. The law of gravity ought not to be topsy-turvy +here at Ahaggar." + +"You, no doubt, formulated several hypotheses when you first +encountered the name, Antinea," continued M. Le Mesge, imperturbable +under my fixed gaze, addressing himself to Morhange. "Would you object +to repeating them to me?" + +"Not at all, sir," said Morhange. + +And, very composedly, he enumerated the etymological suggestions I +have given previously. + +The little man with the cherry-colored shirt front rubbed his hands. + +"Very good," he admitted with an accent of intense jubilation. +"Amazingly good, at least for one with only the modicum of Greek that +you possess. But it is all none the less false, super-false." + +"It is because I suspected as much that I put my question to you," +said Morhange blandly. + +"I will not keep you longer in suspense," said M. Le Mesge. "The word, +Antinea, is composed as follows: _ti_ is nothing but a Tifinar +addition to an essentially Greek name. _Ti_ is the Berber feminine +article. We have several examples of this combination. Take _Tipasa_, +the North African town. The name means the whole, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: nap]. So, _tinea_ signifies the new, from _ti_ and from +[Greek: ea]." + +"And the prefix, _an_?" queried Morhang. + +"Is it possible, sir, that I have put myself to the trouble of talking +to you for a solid hour about the Critias with such trifling effect? +It is certain that the prefix _an_, alone, has no meaning. You will +understand that it has one, when I tell you that we have here a very +curious case of apocope. You must not read _an_; you must read _atlan_. +_Atl_ has been lost, by apocope; _an_ has survived. To sum up, Antinea +is composed in the following manner: [Greek: ti-nea--atl'An]. And its +meaning, _the new Atlantis_, is dazzlingly apparent from this +demonstration." + +I looked at Morhange. His astonishment was without bounds. The Berber +prefix _ti_ had literally stunned him. + +"Have you had occasion, sir, to verify this very ingenious etymology?" +he was finally able to gasp out. + +"You have only to glance over these few books," said M. Le Mesge +disdainfully. + +He opened successively five, ten, twenty cupboards. An enormous +library was spread out to our view. + +"Everything, everything--it is all here," murmured Morhange, with an +astonishing inflection of terror and admiration. + +"Everything that is worth consulting, at any rate," said M. Le Mesge. +"All the great books, whose loss the so-called learned world deplores +to-day." + +"And how has it happened?" + +"Sir, you distress me. I thought you familiar with certain events. You +are forgetting, then, the passage where Pliny the Elder speaks of the +library of Carthage and the treasures which were accumulated there? In +146, when that city fell under the blows of the knave, Scipio, the +incredible collection of illiterates who bore the name of the Roman +Senate had only the profoundest contempt for these riches. They +presented them to the native kings. This is how Mantabal received this +priceless heritage; it was transmitted to his son and grandson, +Hiempsal, Juba I, Juba II, the husband of the admirable Cleopatra +Selene, the daughter of the great Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Cleopatra +Selene had a daughter who married an Atlantide king. This is how +Antinea, the daughter of Neptune, counts among her ancestors the +immortal queen of Egypt. That is how, by following the laws of +inheritance, the remains of the library of Carthage, enriched by the +remnants of the library of Alexandria, are actually before your eyes. + +"Science fled from man. While he was building those monstrous Babels +of pseudo-science in Berlin, London, Paris, Science was taking refuge +in this desert corner of Ahaggar. They may well forge their hypotheses +back there, based on the loss of the mysterious works of antiquity: +these works are not lost. They are here. They are here: the Hebrew, +the Chaldean, the Assyrian books. Here, the great Egyptian traditions +which inspired Solon, Herodotus and Plato. Here, the Greek +mythologists, the magicians of Roman Africa, the Indian mystics, all +the treasures, in a word, for the lack of which contemporary +dissertations are poor laughable things. Believe me, he is well +avenged, the little universitarian whom they took for a madman, whom +they defied. I have lived, I live, I shall live in a perpetual burst +of laughter at their false and garbled erudition. And when I shall be +dead, Error,--thanks to the jealous precaution of Neptune taken to +isolate his well-beloved Clito from the rest of the world,--Error, I +say, will continue to reign as sovereign mistress over their pitiful +compositions." + +"Sir," said Morhange in grave voice, "you have just affirmed the +influence of Egypt on the civilizations of the people here. For +reasons which some day, perhaps, I shall have occasion to explain to +you, I would like to have proof of that relationship." + +"We need not wait for that, sir," said M. Le Mesge. Then, in my turn, +I advanced. + +"Two words, if you please, sir," I said brutally. "I will not hide +from you that these historical discussions seem to me absolutely out +of place. It is not my fault if you have had trouble with the +University, and if you are not to-day at the College of France or +elsewhere. For the moment, just one thing concerns me: to know just +what this lady, Antinea, wants with us. My comrade would like to know +her relation with ancient Egypt: very well. For my part, I desire +above everything to know her relations with the government of Algeria +and the Arabian Bureau." + +M. Le Mesge gave a strident laugh. + +"I am going to give you an answer that will satisfy you both," he +replied. + +And he added: + +"Follow me. It is time that you should learn." + + + + +X + +THE RED MARBLE HALL + + +We passed through an interminable series of stairs and corridors +following M. Le Mesge. + +"You lose all sense of direction in this labyrinth," I muttered to +Morhange. + +"Worse still, you will lose your head," answered my companion _sotto +voce_. "This old fool is certainly very learned; but God knows what he +is driving at. However, he has promised that we are soon to know." + +M. Le Mesge had stopped before a heavy dark door, all incrusted with +strange symbols. Turning the lock with difficulty, he opened it. + +"Enter, gentlemen, I beg you," he said. + +A gust of cold air struck us full in the face. The room we were +entering was chill as a vault. + +At first, the darkness allowed me to form no idea of its proportions. +The lighting, purposely subdued, consisted of twelve enormous copper +lamps, placed column-like upon the ground and burning with brilliant +red flames. As we entered, the wind from the corridor made the flames +flicker, momentarily casting about us our own enlarged and misshapen +shadows. Then the gust died down, and the flames, no longer flurried, +again licked up the darkness with their motionless red tongues. + +These twelve giant lamps (each one about ten feet high) were arranged +in a kind of crown, the diameter of which must have been about fifty +feet. In the center of this circle was a dark mass, all streaked with +trembling red reflections. When I drew nearer, I saw it was a bubbling +fountain. It was the freshness of this water which had maintained the +temperature of which I have spoken. + +Huge seats were cut in the central rock from which gushed the +murmuring, shadowy fountain. They were heaped with silky cushions. +Twelve incense burners, within the circle of red lamps, formed a +second crown, half as large in diameter. Their smoke mounted toward +the vault, invisible in the darkness, but their perfume, combined with +the coolness and sound of the water, banished from the soul all other +desire than to remain there forever. + +M. Le Mesge made us sit down in the center of the hall, on the +Cyclopean seats. He seated himself between us. + +"In a few minutes," he said, "your eyes will grow accustomed to the +obscurity." + +I noticed that he spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were in church. + +Little by little, our eyes did indeed grow used to the red light. Only +the lower part of the great hall was illuminated. The whole vault was +drowned in shadow and its height was impossible to estimate. Vaguely, +I could perceive overhead a great smooth gold chandelier, flecked, +like everything else, with sombre red reflections. But there was no +means of judging the length of the chain by which it hung from the +dark ceiling. + +The marble of the pavement was of so high a polish, that the great +torches were reflected even there. + +This room, I repeat, was round a perfect circle of which the fountain +at our backs was the center. + +We sat facing the curving walls. Before long, we began to be able to +see them. They were of peculiar construction, divided into a series +of niches, broken, ahead of us, by the door which had just opened to +give us passage, behind us, by a second door, a still darker hole +which I divined in the darkness when I turned around. From one door to +the other, I counted sixty niches, making, in all, one hundred and +twenty. Each was about ten feet high. Each contained a kind of case, +larger above than below, closed only at the lower end. In all these +cases, except two just opposite me, I thought I could discern a +brilliant shape, a human shape certainly, something like a statue of +very pale bronze. In the arc of the circle before me, I counted +clearly thirty of these strange statues. + +What were these statues? I wanted to see. I rose. + +M. Le Mesge put his hand on my arm. + +"In good time," he murmured in the same low voice, "all in good time." + +The Professor was watching the door by which we had entered the hall, +and from behind which we could hear the sound of footsteps becoming +more and more distinct. + +It opened quietly to admit three Tuareg slaves. Two of them were +carrying a long package on their shoulders; the third seemed to be +their chief. + +At a sign from him, they placed the package on the ground and drew out +from one of the niches the case which it contained. + +"You may approach, gentlemen," said M. Le Mesge. + +He motioned the three Tuareg to withdraw several paces. + +"You asked me, not long since, for some proof of the Egyptian +influence on this country," said M. Le Mesge. "What do you say to that +case, to begin with?" + +As he spoke, he pointed to the case that the servants had deposited +upon the ground after they took it from its niche. + +Morhange uttered a thick cry. + +We had before us one of those cases designed for the preservation of +mummies. The same shiny wood, the same bright decorations, the only +difference being that here Tifinar writing replaced the hieroglyphics. +The form, narrow at the base, broader above, ought to have been enough +to enlighten us. + +I have already said that the lower half of this large case was +closed, giving the whole structure the appearance of a rectangular +wooden shoe. + +M. Le Mesge knelt and fastened on the lower part of the case, a square +of white cardboard, a large label, that he had picked up from his +desk, a few minutes before, on leaving the library. + +"You may read," he said simply, but still in the same low tone. + +I knelt also, for the light of the great candelabra was scarcely +sufficient to read the label where, none the less, I recognized the +Professor's handwriting. + +It bore these few words, in a large round hand: + +"Number 53. Major Sir Archibald Russell. Born at Richmond, July 5, +1860. Died at Ahaggar, December 3, 1896." + +I leapt to my feet. + +"Major Russell!" I exclaimed. + +"Not so loud, not so loud," said M. Le Mesge. "No one speaks out loud +here." + +"The Major Russell," I repeated, obeying his injunction as if in spite +of myself, "who left Khartoum last year, to explore Sokoto?" + +"The same," replied the Professor. + +"And ... where is Major Russell?" + +"He is there," replied M. Le Mesge. + +The Professor made a gesture. The Tuareg approached. + +A poignant silence reigned in the mysterious hall, broken only by the +fresh splashing of the fountain. + +The three Negroes were occupied in undoing the package that they had +put down near the painted case. Weighed down with wordless horror, +Morhange and I stood watching. + +Soon, a rigid form, a human form, appeared. A red gleam played over +it. We had before us, stretched out upon the ground, a statue of pale +bronze, wrapped in a kind of white veil, a statue like those all +around us, upright in their niches. It seemed to fix us with an +impenetrable gaze. + +"Sir Archibald Russell," murmured M. Le Mesge slowly. + +Morhange approached, speechless, but strong enough to lift up the +white veil. For a long, long time he gazed at the sad bronze statue. + +"A mummy, a mummy?" he said finally. "You deceive yourself, sir, this +is no mummy." + +"Accurately speaking, no," replied M. Le Mesge. "This is not a mummy. +None the less, you have before you the mortal remains of Sir Archibald +Russell. I must point out to you, here, my dear sir, that the +processes of embalming used by Antinea differ from the processes +employed in ancient Egypt. Here, there is no natron, nor bands, nor +spices. The industry of Ahaggar, in a single effort, has achieved a +result obtained by European science only after long experiments. +Imagine my surprise, when I arrived here and found that they were +employing a method I supposed known only to the civilized world." + +M. Le Mesge struck a light tap with his finger on the forehead of Sir +Archibald Russell. It rang like metal. + +"It is bronze," I said. "That is not a human forehead: it is bronze." + +M. Le Mesge shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is a human forehead," he affirmed curtly, "and not bronze. Bronze +is darker, sir. This is the great unknown metal of which Plato speaks +in the Critias, and which is something between gold and silver: it is +the special metal of the mountains of the Atlantides. It is +_orichalch_." + +Bending again, I satisfied myself that this metal was the same as that +with which the walls of the library were overcast. + +"It is orichalch," continued M. Le Mesge. "You look as if you had no +idea how a human body can look like a statue of orichalch. Come, +Captain Morhange, you whom I gave credit for a certain amount of +knowledge, have you never heard of the method of Dr. Variot, by which +a human body can be preserved without embalming? Have you never read +the book of that practitioner?[11] He explains a method called +electro-plating. The skin is coated with a very thin layer of silver +salts, to make it a conductor. The body then is placed in a solution, +of copper sulphate, and the polar currents do their work. The body of +this estimable English major has been metalized in the same manner, +except that a solution of orichalch sulphate, a very rare substance, +has been substituted for that of copper sulphate. Thus, instead of the +statue of a poor slave, a copper statue, you have before you a statue +of metal more precious than silver or gold, in a word, a statue worthy +of the granddaughter of Neptune." + +[Footnote 11: Variot: _L'anthropologie galvanique_. Paris, 1890. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +M. Le Mesge waved his arm. The black slaves seized the body. In a few +seconds, they slid the orichalch ghost into its painted wooden sheath. +That was set on end and slid into its niche, beside the niche where an +exactly similar sheath was labelled "Number 52." + +Upon finishing their task, they retired without a word. A draught of +cold air from the door again made the flames of the copper torches +flicker and threw great shadows about us. + +Morhange and I remained as motionless as the pale metal specters which +surrounded us. Suddenly I pulled myself together and staggered forward +to the niche beside that in which they just had laid the remains of +the English major. I looked for the label. + +Supporting myself against the red marble wall, I read: + +"Number 52. Captain Laurent Deligne. Born at Paris, July 22, 1861. +Died at Ahaggar, October 30, 1896." + +"Captain Deligne!" murmured Morhange. "He left Colomb-Bechar in 1895 +for Timmimoun and no more has been heard of him since then." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge, with a little nod of approval. + +"Number 51," read Morhange with chattering teeth. "Colonel von +Wittman, born at Jena in 1855. Died at Ahaggar, May 1, 1896.... +Colonel Wittman, the explorer of Kanem, who disappeared off Agades." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. + +"Number 50," I read in my turn, steadying myself against the wall, so +as not to fall. "Marquis Alonzo d'Oliveira, born at Cadiz, February +21, 1868. Died at Ahaggar, February 1, 1896. Oliveira, who was going +to Araouan." + +"Exactly," said M. Le Mesge again. "That Spaniard was one of the best +educated. I used to have interesting discussions with him on the exact +geographical position of the kingdom of Antee." + +"Number 49," said Morhange in a tone scarcely more than a whisper. +"Lieutenant Woodhouse, born at Liverpool, September 16, 1870. Died at +Ahaggar, October 4, 1895." + +"Hardly more than a child," said M. Le Mesge. + +"Number 48," I said. "Lieutenant Louis de Maillefeu, born at Provins, +the...." + +I did not finish. My voice choked. + +Louis de Maillefeu, my best friend, the friend of my childhood and of +Saint-Cyr.... I looked at him and recognized him under the metallic +coating. Louis de Maillefeu! + +I laid my forehead against the cold wall and, with shaking shoulders, +began to sob. + +I heard the muffled voice of Morhange speaking to the Professor: + +"Sir, this has lasted long enough. Let us make an end of it." + +"He wanted to know," said M. Le Mesge. "What am I to do?" + +I went up to him and seized his shoulders. + +"What happened to him? What did he die of?" + +"Just like the others," the Professor replied, "just like Lieutenant +Woodhouse, like Captain Deligne, like Major Russell, like Colonel von +Wittman, like the forty-seven of yesterday and all those of +to-morrow." + +"Of what did they die?" Morhange demanded imperatively in his turn. + +The Professor looked at Morhange. I saw my comrade grow pale. + +"Of what did they die, sir? _They died of love_." + +And he added in a very low, very grave voice: + +"Now you know." + +Gently and with a tact which we should hardly have suspected in him, +M. Le Mesge drew us away from the statues. A moment later, Morhange +and I found ourselves again seated, or rather sunk among the cushions +in the center of the room. The invisible fountain murmured its plaint +at our feet. + +Le Mesge sat between us. + +"Now you know," he repeated. "You know, but you do not yet +understand." + +Then, very slowly, he said: + +"You are, as they have been, the prisoners of Antinea. And vengeance +is due Antinea." + +"Vengeance?" said Morhange, who had regained his self-possession. "For +what, I beg to ask? What have the lieutenant and I done to Atlantis? +How have we incurred her hatred?" + +"It is an old quarrel, a very old quarrel," the Professor replied +gravely. "A quarrel which long antedates you, M. Morhange." + +"Explain yourself, I beg of you, Professor." + +"You are Man. She is a Woman," said the dreamy voice of M. Le Mesge. +"The whole matter lies there." + +"Really, sir, I do not see ... we do not see." + +"You are going to understand. Have you really forgotten to what an +extent the beautiful queens of antiquity had just cause to complain of +the strangers whom fortune brought to their borders? The poet, Victor +Hugo, pictured their detestable acts well enough in his colonial poem +called _la Fille d'O-Taiti_. Wherever we look, we see similar examples +of fraud and ingratitude. These gentlemen made free use of the beauty +and the riches of the lady. Then, one fine morning, they disappeared. +She was indeed lucky if her lover, having observed the position +carefully, did not return with ships and troops of occupation." + +"Your learning charms me," said Morhange. "Continue." + +"Do you need examples? Alas! they abound. Think of the cavalier +fashion in which Ulysses treated Calypso, Diomedes Callirhoe. What +should I say of Theseus and Ariadne? Jason treated Medea with +inconceivable lightness. The Romans continued the tradition with still +greater brutality. Aenaeus, who has many characteristics in common +with the Reverend Spardek, treated Dido in a most undeserved fashion. +Caesar was a laurel-crowned blackguard in his relations with the +divine Cleopatra. Titus, that hypocrite Titus, after having lived a +whole year in Idummea at the expense of the plaintive Berenice, took +her back to Rome only to make game of her. It is time that the sons of +Japhet paid this formidable reckoning of injuries to the daughters of +Shem. + +"A woman has taken it upon herself to re-establish the great Hegelian +law of equilibrium for the benefit of her sex. Separated from the +Aryan world by the formidable precautions of Neptune, she draws the +youngest and bravest to her. Her body is condescending, while her +spirit is inexorable. She takes what these bold young men can give +her. She lends them her body, while her soul dominates them. She is +the first sovereign who has never been made the slave of passion, even +for a moment. She has never been obliged to regain her self-mastery, +for she never has lost it. She is the only woman who has been able to +disassociate those two inextricable things, love and voluptuousness." + +M. Le Mesge paused a moment and then went on. + +"Once every day, she comes to this vault. She stops before the niches; +she meditates before the rigid statues; she touches the cold bosoms, +so burning when she knew them. Then, after dreaming before the empty +niche where the next victim soon will sleep his eternal sleep in a +cold case of orichalch, she returns nonchalantly where he is waiting +for her." + +The Professor stopped speaking. The fountain again made itself heard +in the midst of the shadow. My pulses beat, my head seemed on fire. A +fever was consuming me. + +"And all of them," I cried, regardless of the place, "all of them +complied! They submitted! Well, she has only to come and she will see +what will happen." + +Morhange was silent. + +"My dear sir," said M. Le Mesge in a very gentle voice, "you are +speaking like a child. You do not know. You have not seen Antinea. Let +me tell you one thing: that among those"--and with a sweeping gesture +he indicated the silent circle of statues--"there were men as +courageous as you and perhaps less excitable. I remember one of them +especially well, a phlegmatic Englishman who now is resting under +Number 32. When he first appeared before Antinea, he was smoking a +cigar. And, like all the rest, he bent before the gaze of his +sovereign. + +"Do not speak until you have seen her. A university training hardly +fits one to discourse upon matters of passion, and I feel scarcely +qualified, myself, to tell you what Antinea is. I only affirm this, +that when you have seen her, you will remember nothing else. Family, +country, honor, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Everything?" asked Morhange in a calm voice. + +"Everything," Le Mesge insisted emphatically. "You will forget all, +you will renounce all." + +From outside, a faint sound came to us. + +Le Mesge consulted his watch. + +"In any case, you will see." + +The door opened. A tall white Targa, the tallest we had yet seen in +this remarkable abode, entered and came toward us. + +He bowed and touched me lightly on the shoulder. + +"Follow him," said M. Le Mesge. + +Without a word, I obeyed. + + + + +XI + +ANTINEA + + +My guide and I passed along another long corridor. My excitement +increased. I was impatient for one thing only, to come face to face +with that woman, to tell her.... So far as anything else was +concerned, I already was done for. + +I was mistaken in hoping that the adventure would take an heroic turn +at once. In real life, these contrasts never are definitely marked +out. I should have remembered from many past incidents that the +burlesque was regularly mixed with the tragic in my life. + +We reached a little transparent door. My guide stood aside to let me +pass. + +I found myself in the most luxurious of dressing-rooms. A ground glass +ceiling diffused a gay rosy light over the marble floor. The first +thing I noticed was a clock, fastened to the wall. In place of the +figures for the hours, were the signs of the Zodiac. The small hand +had not yet reached the sign of Capricorn. + +Only three o'clock! + +The day seemed to have lasted a century already.... And only a little +more than half of it was gone. + +Another idea came to me, and a convulsive laugh bent me double. + +"Antinea wants me to be at my best when I meet her." + +A mirror of orichalch formed one whole side of the room. Glancing into +it, I realized that in all decency there was nothing exaggerated in +the demand. + +My untrimmed beard, the frightful layer of dirt which lay about my +eyes and furrowed my cheeks, my clothing, spotted by all the clay of +the Sahara and torn by all the thorns of Ahaggar--all this made me +appear a pitiable enough suitor. + +I lost no time in undressing and plunging into the porphry bath in the +center of the room. A delicious drowsiness came over me in that +perfumed water. A thousand little jars, spread on a costly carved wood +dressing-table, danced before my eyes. They were of all sizes and +colors, carved in a very transparent kind of jade. The warm humidity +of the atmosphere hastened my relaxation. + +I still had strength to think, "The devil take Atlantis and the vault +and Le Mesge." + +Then I fell asleep in the bath. + +When I opened my eyes again, the little hand of the clock had almost +reached the sign of Taurus. Before me, his black hands braced on the +edge of the bath, stood a huge Negro, bare-faced and bare-armed, his +forehead bound with an immense orange turban. + +He looked at me and showed his white teeth in a silent laugh. + +"Who is this fellow?" + +The Negro laughed harder. Without saying a word, he lifted me like a +feather out of the perfumed water, now of a color on which I shall not +dwell. + +In no time at all, I was stretched out on an inclined marble table. + +The Negro began to massage me vigorously. + +"More gently there, fellow!" + +My masseur did not reply, but laughed and rubbed still harder. + +"Where do you come from? Kanem? Torkou? You laugh too much for a +Targa." + +Unbroken silence. The Negro was as speechless as he was hilarious. + +"After all, I am making a fool of myself," I said, giving up the case. +"Such as he is, he is more agreeable than Le Mesge with his +nightmarish erudition. But, on my word, what a recruit he would be for +Hamman on the rue des Mathurins!" + +"Cigarette, sidi?" + +Without awaiting my reply, he placed a cigarette between my lips and +lighted it, and resumed his task of polishing every inch of me. + +"He doesn't talk much, but he is obliging," I thought. + +And I sent a puff of smoke into his face. + +This pleasantry seemed to delight him immensely. He showed his +pleasure by giving me great slaps. + +When he had dressed me down sufficiently, he took a little jar from +the dressing-table and began to rub me with a rose-colored ointment. +Weariness seemed to fly away from my rejuvenated muscles. + +A stroke on a copper gong. My masseur disappeared. A stunted old +Negress entered, dressed in the most tawdry tinsel. She was talkative +as a magpie, but at first I did not understand a word in the +interminable string she unwound, while she took first my hands, then +my feet, and polished the nails with determined grimaces. + +Another stroke on the gong. The old woman gave place to another Negro, +grave, this time, and dressed all in white with a knitted skull cap on +his oblong head. It was the barber, and a remarkably dexterous one. He +quickly trimmed my hair, and, on my word, it was well done. Then, +without asking me what style I preferred, he shaved me clean. + +I looked with pleasure at my face, once more visible. + +"Antinea must like the American type," I thought. "What an affront to +the memory of her worthy grandfather, Neptune!" + +The gay Negro entered and placed a package on the divan. The barber +disappeared. I was somewhat astonished to observe that the package, +which my new valet opened carefully, contained a suit of white +flannels exactly like those French officers wear in Algeria in summer. + +The wide trousers seemed made to my measure. The tunic fitted without +a wrinkle, and my astonishment was unbounded at observing that it even +had two gilt _galons_, the insignia of my rank, braided on the cuffs. +For shoes, there were slippers of red Morocco leather, with gold +ornaments. The underwear, all of silk, seemed to have come straight +from the rue de la Paix. + +"Dinner was excellent," I murmured, looking at myself in the mirror +with satisfaction. "The apartment is perfectly arranged. Yes, but...." + +I could not repress a shudder when I suddenly recalled that room of +red marble. + +The clock struck half past four. + +Someone rapped gently on the door. The tall white Targa, who had +brought me, appeared in the doorway. + +He stepped forward, touched me on the arm and signed for me to follow. + +Again I followed him. + +We passed through interminable corridors. I was disturbed, but the +warm water had given me a certain feeling of detachment. And above +all, more than I wished to admit, I had a growing sense of lively +curiosity. If, at that moment, someone had offered to lead me back to +the route across the white plain near Shikh-Salah, would I have +accepted? Hardly. + +I tried to feel ashamed of my curiosity. I thought of Maillefeu. + +"He, too, followed this corridor. And now he is down there, in the red +marble hall." + +I had no time to linger over this reminiscence. I was suddenly bowled +over, thrown to the ground, as if by a sort of meteor. The corridor +was dark; I could see nothing. I heard only a mocking growl. + +The white Targa had flattened himself back against the wall. + +"Good," I mumbled, picking myself up, "the deviltries are beginning." + +We continued on our way. A glow different from that of the rose night +lights soon began to light up the corridor. + +We reached a high bronze door, in which a strange lacy design had +been cut in filigree. A clear gong sounded, and the double doors +opened part way. The Targa remained in the corridor, closing the doors +after me. + +I took a few steps forward mechanically, then paused, rooted to the +spot, and rubbed my eyes. + +I was dazzled by the sight of the sky. + +Several hours of shaded light had unaccustomed me to daylight. It +poured in through one whole side of the huge room. + +The room was in the lower part of this mountain, which was more +honeycombed with corridors and passages than an Egyptian pyramid. It +was on a level with the garden which I had seen in the morning from +the balcony, and seemed to be a continuation of it; the carpet +extended out under the great palm trees and the birds flew about the +forest of pillars in the room. + +By contrast, the half of the room untouched by direct light from the +oasis seemed dark. The sun, setting behind the mountain, painted the +garden paths with rose and flamed with red upon the traditional +flamingo which stood with one foot raised at the edge of the sapphire +lake. + +Suddenly I was bowled over a second time. + +I felt a warm, silky touch, a burning breath on my neck. Again the +mocking growl which had so disturbed me in the corridor. + +With a wrench, I pulled myself free and sent a chance blow at my +assailant. The cry, this time of pain and rage, broke out again. + +It was echoed by a long peal of laughter. Furious, I turned to look +for the insolent onlooker, thinking to speak my mind. And then my +glance stood still. + +Antinea was before me. + + +In the dimmest part of the room, under a kind of arch lit by the mauve +rays from a dozen incense-lamps, four women lay on a heap of +many-colored cushions and rare white Persian rugs. + +I recognized the first three as Tuareg women, of a splendid regular +beauty, dressed in magnificent robes of white silk embroidered in +gold. The fourth, very dark skinned, almost negroid, seemed younger. +A tunic of red silk enhanced the dusk of her face, her arms and her +bare feet. The four were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs, +covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one +elbow, lay Antinea. + +Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really +looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More +beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the +fault of the language or of those who abuse the word? + +One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom +Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter +of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom +Antony fled.... + + _O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras + C'est dans l'etreinte altiere et chaude de ses bras_. + +An Egyptian _klaft_ fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two +points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The +golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round, +determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her +head. + +She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very +full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with +iris in black pearls. + +That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim +young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A +more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile, +such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom. + +I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at +it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most +extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable +moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than +to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty +young men who had held that slender body in their arms. + +She was still laughing at me. + +"King Hiram," she called. + +I turned and saw my enemy. + +On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a +splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I +had dealt him. + +"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here." + +The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's +feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles. + +"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said. + +The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle +puckered about his black moustache. + +"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat. + +"Go," Antinea ordered imperiously. + +The beast crawled reluctantly toward me. He laid his head humbly +between his paws and waited. + +I stroked his beautiful spotted forehead. + +"You must not be vexed," said Antinea. "He is always that way with +strangers." + +"Then he must often be in bad humor," I said simply. + +Those were my first words. They brought a smile to Antinea's lips. + +She gave me a long, quiet look. + +"Aguida," she said to one of the Targa women, "you will give +twenty-five pounds in gold to Cegheir-ben-Cheikh." + +"You are a lieutenant?" she asked, after a pause. + +"Yes." + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From France." + +"I might have guessed that," she said ironically, "but from what part +of France?" + +"From what we call the Lot-et-Garonne." + +"From what town?" + +"From Duras." + +She reflected a moment. + +"Duras! There is a little river there, the Dropt, and a fine old +chateau." + +"You know Duras?" I murmured, amazed. + +"You go there from Bordeaux by a little branch railway," she went +on. "It is a shut-in road, with vine-covered hills crowned by +the feudal ruins. The villages have beautiful names: Monsegur, +Sauve-terre-de-Guyenne, la Tresne, Creon, ... Creon, as in Antigone." + +"You have been there?" + +She looked at me. + +"Don't speak so coldly," she said. "Sooner or later we will be +intimate, and you may as well lay aside formality now." + +This threatening promise suddenly filled me with great happiness. I +thought of Le Mesge's words: "Don't talk until you have seen her. When +you have seen her, you will renounce everything for her." + +"Have I been in Duras?" she went on with a burst of laughter. "You are +joking. Imagine Neptune's granddaughter in the first-class compartment +of a local train!" + +She pointed to an enormous white rock which towered above the palm +trees of the garden. + +"That is my horizon," she said gravely. + +She picked up one of several books which lay scattered about her on +the lion's skin. + +"The time table of the _Chemin de Fer de l'Ouest_," she said. +"Admirable reading for one who never budges! Here it is half-past five +in the afternoon. A train, a local, arrived three minutes ago at +Surgeres in the Charente-Inferieure. It will start on in six minutes. +In two hours it will reach La Rochelle. How strange it seems to think +of such things here. So far away! So much commotion there! Here, +nothing changes." + +"You speak French well," I said. + +She gave a little nervous laugh. + +"I have to. And German, too, and Italian, and English and Spanish. My +way of living has made me a great polygot. But I prefer French, even +to Tuareg and Arabian. It seems as if I had always known it. And I am +not saying that to please you." + +There was a pause. I thought of her grandmother, of whom Plutarch +said: "There were few races with which she needed an interpreter. +Cleopatra spoke their own language to the Ethiopians, to the +Troglodytes, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Medes and the Persians." + +"Do not stand rooted in the middle of the room. You worry me. Come +sit here, beside me. Move over, King Hiram." + +The leopard obeyed with good temper. + +Beside her was an onyx bowl. She took from it a perfectly plain ring +of orichalch and slipped it on my left ring-finger. I saw that she +wore one like it. + +"Tanit-Zerga, give Monsieur de Saint-Avit a rose sherbet." + +The dark girl in red silk obeyed. + +"My private secretary," said Antinea, introducing her. "Mademoiselle +Tanit-Zerga, of Gao, on the Niger. Her family is almost as ancient as +mine." + +As she spoke, she looked at me. Her green eyes seemed to be appraising +me. + +"And your comrade, the Captain?" she asked in a dreamy tone. "I have +not yet seen him. What is he like? Does he resemble you?" + +For the first time since I had entered, I thought of Morhange. I did +not answer. + +Antinea smiled. + +She stretched herself out full length on the lion skin. Her bare right +knee slipped out from under her tunic. + +"It is time to go find him," she said languidly. "You will soon +receive my orders. Tanit-Zerga, show him the way. First take him to +his room. He cannot have seen it." + +I rose and lifted her hand to my lips. She struck me with it so +sharply as to make my lips bleed, as if to brand me as her possession. + + * * * * * + +I was in the dark corridor again. The young girl in the red silk tunic +walked ahead of me. + +"Here is your room," she said. "If you wish, I will take you to the +dining-room. The others are about to meet there for dinner." + +She spoke an adorable lisping French. + +"No, Tanit-Zerga, I would rather stay here this evening. I am not +hungry. I am tired." + +"You remember my name?" she said. + +She seemed proud of it. I felt that in her I had an ally in case of +need. + +"I remember your name, Tanit-Zerga, because it is beautiful."[12] + +[Footnote 12: In Berber, Tanit means a spring; zerga is the feminine of +the adjective azreg, blue. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +Then I added: + +"Now, leave me, little one. I want to be alone." + +It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same +time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself. + +"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the +table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white +Targa will answer." + +For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the +midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service. + +I looked about my room. My room! For how long? + +It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock, +all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade. + +I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting +sun entered. + +I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my +heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the +ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me. + +In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the +first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the +distance, I saw the limitless red desert. + + + + +XII + +MORHANGE DISAPPEARS + + +My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next +day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon. + +I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed +amazing. + +"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by +consulting Morhange." + +I was ravenously hungry. + +The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I +struck it. A white Targa appeared. + +"Show me the way to the library," I ordered. + +He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and +corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his +help. + +Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript. + +"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger +were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters." + +I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the +table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like +that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she +herself wore. + +Morhange smiled. + +"Well?" I said. + +"Well?" + +"You have seen her?" + +"I have indeed," Morhange replied. + +"She is beautiful, is she not?" + +"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even +believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is +beautiful." + +There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring. + +"You know what our fate is to be?" + +"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological +terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure." + +He was silent, then said, looking at me: + +"I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature +is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very +easily." + +Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did +not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged +correctly. + +"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured. + +He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair +and lit a cigar. + +"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I +have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no +discussion. + +"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my +semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather +doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but, +even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my +having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no +taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us. + +"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the +right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his +own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish, +results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular +ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give +satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance +of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire: +such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps +even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under +similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so +doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The +end justified the means. + +"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd caprices +of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the +red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take +you first. Under those conditions...." + +"Under those conditions?" + +"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to +acquiesce." + +"Then what do you intend to do?" + +"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and +smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling. + +"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this +superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse +advances." + +Then he added with an ironical smile: + +"A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to." + +I nodded. + +"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was +breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le +Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she +replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But + + _Maudit soit a jamais reveur inutile, + Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidite, + S'eprenant d'un probleme insoluble et sterile, + Aux choses de l'amour meler l'honnetete._ + +"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers, +'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There +followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to +reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from +Baudelaire. + +"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman +whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in +order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek +knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant +with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew +me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid things as you know +of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of +different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in +the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this +is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend +is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman +indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer +than that master of sensualism." + +"Gentlemen," said Le Mesge, suddenly entering the room, "why are you +so late? They are waiting dinner for you." + +The little Professor was in a particularly good humor that evening. He +wore a new violet rosette. + +"Well?" he said, in a mocking tone, "you have seen her?" + +Neither Morhange nor I replied. + +The Reverend Spardek and the Hetmari of Jitomir already had begun +eating when we arrived. The setting sun threw raspberry lights on the +cream-colored mat. + +"Be seated, gentlemen," said Le Mesge noisily. "Lieutenant de +Saint-Avit, you were not with us last evening. You are about to taste +the cooking of Koukou, our Bambara chef, for the first time. You must +give me your opinion of it." + +A Negro waiter set before me a superb fish covered with a pimento +sauce as red as tomatoes. + +I have explained that I was ravenously hungry. The dish was exquisite. +The sauce immediately made me thirsty. + +"White Ahaggar, 1879," the Herman of Jitomir breathed in my ear as he +filled my goblet with a clear topaz liquid. "I developed it myself: +_rien pour la tete, tout pour les jambes_." + +I emptied the goblet at a gulp. The company began to seem charming. + +"Well, Captain Morhange," Le Mesge called out to my comrade who had +taken a mouthful of fish, "what do you say to this acanthopterygian? +It was caught to-day in the lake in the oasis. Do you begin to admit +the hypothesis of the Saharan sea?" + +"The fish is an argument," my companion replied. + +Suddenly he became silent. The door had opened. A white Targa entered. +The diners stopped talking. + +The veiled man walked slowly toward Morhange and touched his right +arm. + +"Very well," said Morhange. + +He got up and followed the messenger. + +The pitcher of Ahaggar, 1879, stood between me and Count Bielowsky. I +filled my goblet--a goblet which held a pint, and gulped it down. + +The Hetman looked at me sympathetically. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge, nudging me with his elbow. "Antinea has +respect for the hierarchic order." + +The Reverend Spardek smiled modestly. + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Le Mesge again. + +My glass was empty. For a moment I was tempted to hurl it at the head +of the Fellow in History. But what of it? I filled it and emptied it +again. + +"Morhange will miss this delicious roast of mutton," said the +Professor, more and more hilarious, as he awarded himself a thick +slice of meat. + +"He won't regret it," said the Hetman crossly. "This is not roast; it +is ram's horn. Really Koukou is beginning to make fun of us." + +"Blame it on the Reverend," the shrill voice of Le Mesge cut in. "I +have told him often enough to hunt other proselytes and leave our cook +alone." + +"Professor," Spardek began with dignity. + +"I maintain my contention," cried Le Mesge, who seemed to me to be +getting a bit overloaded. "I call the gentleman to witness," he went +on, turning to me. "He has just come. He is unbiased. Therefore I ask +him: has one the right to spoil a Bambara cook by addling his head +with theological discussions for which he has no predisposition?" + +"Alas!" the pastor replied sadly. "You are mistaken. He has only too +strong a propensity to controversy." + +"Koukou is a good-for-nothing who uses Colas' cow as an excuse for +doing nothing and letting our scallops burn," declared the Hetman. +"Long live the Pope!" he cried, filling the glasses all around. + +"I assure you that this Bambara worries me," Spardek went on with +great dignity. "Do you know what he has come to? He denies +transubstantiation. He is within an inch of the heresy of Zwingli and +Oecolampades. Koukou denies transubstantiation." + +"Sir," said Le Mesge, very much excited, "cooks should be left in +peace. Jesus, whom I consider as good a theologian as you, understood +that, and it never occurred to him to call Martha away from her oven +to talk nonsense to her." + +"Exactly so," said the Hetman approvingly. + +He was holding a jar between his knees and trying to draw its cork. + +"Oh, Cotes Roties, wines from the Cote-Rotie!" he murmured to me as he +finally succeeded. "Touch glasses." + +"Koukou denies transubstantiation," the pastor continued, sadly +emptying his glass. + +"Eh!" said the Hetman of Jitomir in my ear, "let them talk on. Don't +you see that they are quite drunk?" + +His own voice was thick. He had the greatest difficulty in the world +in filling my goblet to the brim. + +I wanted to push the pitcher away. Then an idea came to me: + +"At this very moment, Morhange.... Whatever he may say.... She is so +beautiful." + +I reached out for the glass and emptied it once more. + +Le Mesge and the pastor were now engaged in the most extraordinary +religious controversy, throwing at each other's heads the Book of +Common Prayer, The Declaration of the Rights of Man, and the +Unigenitus. Little by little, the Hetman began to show that ascendancy +over them, which is the characteristic of a man of the world even when +he is thoroughly drunk; the superiority of education over instruction. + +Count Bielowsky had drunk five times as much as the Professor or the +pastor. But he carried his wine ten times better. + +"Let us leave these drunken fellows," he said with disgust. "Come on, +old man. Our partners are waiting in the gaming room." + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said the Hetman as we entered. "Permit me to +present a new player to you, my friend, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +"Let it go at that," he murmured in my ear. "They are the servants. +But I like to fool myself, you see." + +I saw that he was very drunk indeed. + +The gaming room was very long and narrow. A huge table, almost level +with the floor and surrounded with cushions on which a dozen natives +were lying, was the chief article of furniture. Two engravings on the +wall gave evidence of the happiest broadmindedness in taste; one of da +Vinci's St. John the Baptist, and the _Maison des Dernieres +Cartouches_ of Alphonse de Neuville. + +On the table were earthenware goblets. A heavy jar held palm liqueur. + +I recognized acquaintances among those present; my masseur, the +manicure, the barber, and two or three Tuareg who had lowered their +veils and were gravely smoking long pipes. While waiting for something +better, all were plunged in the delights of a card game that looked +like "rams." Two of Antinea's beautiful ladies in waiting, Aguida and +Sydya, were among the number. Their smooth bistre skins gleamed +beneath veils shot with silver. I was sorry not to see the red silk +tunic of Tanit-Zerga. Again, I thought of Morhange, but only for an +instant. + +"The chips, Koukou," demanded the Hetman, "We are not here to amuse +ourselves." + +The Zwinglian cook placed a box of many-colored chips in front of him. +Count Bielowsky set about counting them and arranging them in little +piles with infinite care. + +"The white are worth a _louis_," he explained to me. "The red, a +hundred francs. The yellow, five hundred. The green, a thousand. Oh, +it's the devil of a game that we play here. You will see." + +"I open with ten thousand," said the Zwinglian cook. + +"Twelve thousand," said the Hetman. + +"Thirteen," said Sydya with a slow smile, as she seated herself on the +count's knee and began to arrange her chips lovingly in little piles. + +"Fourteen," I said. + +"Fifteen," said the sharp voice of Rosita, the old manicure. + +"Seventeen," proclaimed the Hetman. + +"Twenty thousand," the cook broke in. + +He hammered on the table and, casting a defiant look at us, repeated: + +"I take it at twenty thousand." + +The Hetman made an impatient gesture. + +"That devil, Koukou! You can't do anything against the beast. You will +have to play carefully, Lieutenant." + +Koukou had taken his place at the end of the table. He threw down the +cards with an air which abashed me. + +"I told you so; the way it was at Anna Deslions'," the Hetman murmured +proudly. + +"Make your bets, gentlemen," yelped the Negro. "Make your bets." + +"Wait, you beast," called Bielowsky. "Don't you see that the glasses +are empty? Here, Cacambo." + +The goblets were filled immediately by the jolly masseur. + +"Cut," said Koukou, addressing Sydya, the beautiful Targa who sat at +his right. + +The girl cut, like one who knows superstitions, with her left hand. +But it must be said that her right was busy lifting a cup to her lips. +I watched the curve of her beautiful throat. + +"My deal," said Koukou. + +We were thus arranged: at the left, the Hetman, Aguida, whose waist he +had encircled with the most aristocratic freedom, Cacambo, a Tuareg +woman, then two veiled Negroes who were watching the game intently. At +the right, Sydya, myself, the old manicure, Rosita, Barouf, the +barber, another woman and two white Tuareg, grave and attentive, +exactly opposite those on the left. + +"Give me one," said the Hetman. + +Sydya made a negative gesture. + +Koukou drew, passed a four-spot to the Hetman, gave himself a five. + +"Eight," announced Bielowsky. + +"Six," said pretty Sydya. + +"Seven," broke in Koukou. "One card makes up for another," he added +coldly. + +"I double," said the Hetman. + +Cacambo and Aguida followed his example. On our side, we were more +careful. The manicure especially would not risk more than twenty +francs at a time. + +"I demand that the cards be evened up," said Koukou imperturbably. + +"This fellow is unbearable," grumbled the count. "There, are you +satisfied?" + +Koukou dealt and laid down a nine. + +"My country and my honor!" raged Bielowsky. "I had an eight." + +I had two kings, and so showed no ill temper. Rosita took the cards +out of my hands. + +I watched Sydya at my right. Her heavy black hair covered her +shoulders. She was really very beautiful, though a bit tipsy, as were +all that fantastic company. She looked at me, too, but with lowered +eyelids, like a timid little wild animal. + +"Oh," I thought. "She may well be afraid. I am labelled 'No +trespassing.'" + +I touched her foot. She drew it back in fright. + +"Who wants cards?" Koukou demanded. + +"Not I," said the Hetman. + +"Served," said Sydya. + +The cook drew a four. + +"Nine," he said. + +"That card was meant for me," cursed the count. "And five, I had a +five. If only I had never promised his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon II +never to cut fives! There are times when it is hard, very hard. And +look at that beast of a Negro who plays Charlemagne." + +It was true. Koukou swept in three-quarters of the chips, rose with +dignity, and bowed to the company. + +"Till to-morrow, gentlemen." + +"Get along, the whole pack of you," howled the Hetman of Jitomir. +"Stay with me, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +When we were alone, he poured out another huge cupfull of liqueur. The +ceiling of the room was lost in the gray smoke. + +"What time is it?" I asked. + +"After midnight. But you are not going to leave me like this, my dear +boy? I am heavy-hearted." + +He wept bitterly. The tail of his coat spread out on the divan behind +him like the apple-green wings of a beetle. + +"Isn't Aguida a beauty?" he went on, still weeping. "She makes me +think of the Countess de Teruel, though she is a little darker. You +know the Countess de Teruel, Mercedes, who went in bathing nude at +Biarritz, in front of the rock of the Virgin, one day when Prince +Bismarck was standing on the foot-bridge. You do not remember her? +Mercedes de Teruel." + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"I forget; you must have been too young. Two, perhaps three years old. +A child. Yes, a child. Oh, my child, to have been of that generation +and to be reduced to playing cards with savages ... I must tell +you...." + +I stood up and pushed him off. + +"Stay, stay," he implored. "I will tell you everything you want to +know, how I came here, things I have never told anyone. Stay, I must +unbosom myself to a true friend. I will tell you everything, I repeat. +I trust you. You are a Frenchman, a gentleman. I know that you will +repeat nothing to her." + +"That I will repeat nothing to her?... To whom?" + +His voice stuck in his throat. I thought I saw a shudder of fear pass +over him. + +"To her ... to Antinea," he murmured. + +I sat down again. + + + + +XIII + +THE HETMAN OF JITOMIR'S STORY + + +Count Casimir had reached that stage where drunkenness takes on a kind +of gravity, of regretfulness. + +He thought a little, then began his story. I regret that I cannot +reproduce more perfectly its archaic flavor. + +"When the grapes begin to color in Antinea's garden, I shall be +sixty-eight. It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your wild +oats. It isn't true that life is always beginning over again. How +bitter, to have known the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the +point where I am now! + +"One evening, just before the war (I remember that Victor Black was +still living), some charming women whose names I need not disclose (I +read the names of their sons from time to time in the society news of +the _Gaulois_) expressed to me their desire to rub elbows with some +real _demi-mondaines_ of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at +the _Grande Chaumiere_. There was a crowd of young painters, models, +students. In the midst of the uproar, several couples danced the +_cancan_ till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed especially a +little, dark man, dressed in a miserable top-coat and checked trousers +which assuredly knew the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed, +with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be. He bounded and +kicked extravagantly. The ladies called him Leon Gambetta. + +"What an annoyance, when I realize that I need only have felled this +wretched lawyer with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect +happiness to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow, I +am French at heart, if not by birth. + +"I was born in 1829, at Warsaw, of a Polish father and a Russian +mother. It is from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir. It +was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request made to him on +his visit to Paris, by my august master, the Emperor Napoleon III. + +"For political reasons, which I cannot describe without retelling the +history of unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left Warsaw +in 1830, and went to live in London. After the death of my mother, he +began to squander his immense fortune--from sorrow, he said. When, in +his time, he died at the period of the Prichard affair, he left me +barely a thousand pounds sterling of income, plus two or three systems +of gaming, the impracticability of which I learned later. + +"I will never be able to think of my nineteenth and twentieth years +without emotion, for I then completely liquidated this small +inheritance. London was indeed an adorable spot in those days. I had a +jolly bachelor's apartment in Piccadilly. + + "'Picadilly! Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze, + The whirling of wheels and the murmur of trees.' + +"Fox hunting in a _briska_, driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, +not to mention the delightful little parties with the light Venuses of +Drury Lane, this took all my time. All? I am unjust. There was also +gaming, and a sentiment of filial piety forced me to verify the +systems of the late Count, my father. It was gaming which was the +cause of the event I must describe to you, by which my life was to be +so strangely changed. + +"My friend, Lord Malmesbury, had said to me a hundred times, 'I must +take you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford Street, +number 277, Miss Howard.' One evening I went with him. It was the +twenty-second of February, 1848. The mistress of the house was really +marvelously beautiful, and the guests were charming. Besides +Malmesbury, I observed several acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord +Chesterfield, Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards, +and Count d'Orsay. They played cards and then began to talk politics. +Events in France played the main part in the conversation and they +discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt that had broken out +in Paris that same morning, in consequence of the interdiction of the +banquet in the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been +received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never bothered myself +with public affairs. So I don't know what moved me to affirm with the +impetuosity of my nineteen years that the news from France meant the +Republic next day and the Empire the day after.... + +"The company received my sally with a discreet laugh, and their looks +were centered on a guest who made the fifth at a _bouillotte_ table +where they had just stopped playing. + +"The guest smiled, too. He rose and came towards me. I observed that +he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned tightly into a +blue frock coat, and that his eye had a far-off, dreamy look. + +"All the players watched this scene with delighted amusement. + +"'Whom have I the honor of addressing?' he asked in a very gentle +voice. + +"'Count Bielowsky,' I answered coolly to show him that the difference +in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation. + +"Well, my dear Count, may your prediction indeed be realized; and I +hope that you will not neglect the Tuileries,' said the guest in the +blue coat, with a smile. + +"And he added, finally consenting to present himself: + +"'Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.' + +"I played no active role in the _coup d'etat_, and I do not regret it. +It is a principle with me that a stranger should not meddle with the +internal affairs of a country. The prince understood this discretion, +and did not forget the young man who had been of such good omen to +him. + +"I was one of the first whom he called to the Elysee. My fortune was +definitely established by a defamatory note on 'Napoleon the little.' +The next year, when Mgr. Sibour was out of the way, I was made +Gentleman of the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to have +me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto, Duke of Mondovi. + +"I have no scruple in announcing that this union was not what it +should have been. The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was +crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover, her family had insisted +resolutely on a marriage portion. Now I had nothing at this time +except the twenty-five thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman +of the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate terms with the Count +d'Orsay and the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of +the Emperor, where would I have been? + +"One morning in the spring of 1852, I was in my study opening my mail. +There was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries at +four o'clock; a letter from Clementine, informing me that she expected +me at five o'clock at her house. Clementine was the beautiful one for +whom, just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I was so proud of +her that, one evening at the _Maison Doree_, I flaunted her before +Prince Metternich, who was tremendously taken with her. All the court +envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged to continue to +assume its expenses. And then Clementine was so pretty! The Emperor +himself.... The other letters, good lord, the other letters were the +bills of the dressmakers of that young person, who, in spite of my +discreet remonstrances, insisted on having them sent to my conjugal +dwelling. + +"There were bills for something over forty thousand francs: gowns and +ball dresses from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and +bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d'Antin; lingerie and many +petticoats from Madame Pauline, 100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and +gloves from the _Ville de Lyon_, 6 Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin; +foulards from the _Malle des Indes_; handkerchiefs from the _Compagnie +Irlandaise_; laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from _Candes_.... This +whitening cream of _Candes_, in particular, overwhelmed me with +stupefaction. The bill showed fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and +twenty-seven francs and fifty centimes' worth of whitening cream from +_Candes_.... Enough to soften the skin of a squadron of a hundred +guards! + +"'This can't keep on,' I said, putting the bills in my pocket. + +"At ten minutes to four, I crossed the wicket by the Carrousel. + +"In the Salon of the _aides de camp_ I happened on Bacciochi. + +"'The Emperor has the grippe,' he said to me. 'He is keeping to his +room. He has given orders to have you admitted as soon as you arrive. +Come.' + +"His Majesty, dressed in a braided vest and Cossack trousers, was +meditating before a window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed +luminously under a gentle warm shower. + +"'Ah! Here he is,' said Napoleon. 'Here, have a cigarette. It seems +that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse, last evening, +at the _Chateau de Fleurs_.' + +"I smiled with satisfaction. + +"'So Your Majesty knows already....' + +"'I know, I know vaguely.' + +"'Do you know Gramont-Caderousse's last "mot"?' + +"'No, but you are going to tell it to me.' + +"'Here goes, then. We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont, +Persigny....' + +"'Persigny!' said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with +Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife.' + +"'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He +began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's +conduct.' + +"'This Fialin isn't over tactful,' muttered the Emperor. + +"'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at +him?' + +"'What?' + +"'He said to him, "_Monsieur le Duc_, I forbid you to speak ill of my +mistress before me." + +"'Gramont goes too far,' said Napoleon with a dreamy smile. + +"'That is what we all thought, including Viel-Castel, who was +nevertheless delighted.' + +"'Apropos of this,' said Napoleon after a silence, 'I have forgotten +to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.' + +"'She is very well, Sire, I thank Your Majesty,' + +"'And Clementine? Still the same dear child?' + +"'Always, Sire. But....' + +"'It seems that M. Baroche is madly in love with her.' + +"'I am very much honored, Sire. But this honor becomes too +burdensome.' + +"I had drawn from my pocket that morning's bills and I spread them out +under the eyes of the Emperor. + +"He looked at them with his distant smile. + +"'Come, come. If that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to +ask of you.' + +"'I am entirely at Your Majesty's service.' + +"He struck a gong. + +"'Send for M. Mocquard.' + +"'I have the grippe,' he said. 'Mocquard will explain the affair to +you.' + +"The Emperor's private secretary entered. + +"'Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,' said Napoleon. 'You know what I want +him to do. Explain it to him.' + +"And he began to tap on the window-panes against which the rain was +beating furiously. + +"'My dear Count,' said Mocquard, taking a chair, 'it is very simple. +You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise, M. Henry +Duveyrier.' + +"I shook my head as a sign of negation, very much surprised at this +beginning. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'has returned to Paris after a +particularly daring trip to South Africa and the Sahara. M. Vivien de +Saint Martin, whom I have seen recently has assured me that the +Geographical Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon him, +in recognition of these exploits. In the course of his trip, M. +Duveyrier has entered into negotiations with the chief of the people +who always have been so rebellious to His Majesty's armies, the +Tuareg.' + +"I looked at the Emperor. My bewilderment was such that he began to +laugh. + +"'Listen,' he said. + +"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a +delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to +His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His +Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the +signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our +fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, +_Amenokol_ or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow +morning at the _Gare de Lyon_. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the +Emperor has thought that besides....' + +"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I +thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my +Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is +why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, +laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged +only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these +princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; +then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious +scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian +civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not forget that in the +Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I +have confidence in your tact and give you _carte blanche_.... +Mocquard!' + +"'Sire?' + +"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to +the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of +the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, +to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed +that figure.' + +"Clementine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion +that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When +she saw me, she burst into tears. + +"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have +we done!' + +"'Clementine, tell me!' + +"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt +against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was +fragrant with _eau de Nanon_. + +"'What is it? What can it be?' + +"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear. + +"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?' + +"'Am I quite sure!' + +"I was thunderstruck. + +"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply. + +"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I +assure you.' + +"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.' + +"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!' + +"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously. + +"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. +The Emperor's orders.' + +"'What bluff is this?' asked Clementine. + +"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.' + +"I retold Mocquard's story to Clementine, as well as I could. She +listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that +way.' + +"Finally, furious, I burst out: + +"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I +invite you.' + +"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clementine with great +dignity. + +"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a +day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. +The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. +And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular +paternity.... + +"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the +Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of +Parisian civilization. Clementine comports herself very well in +society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a +room for to-morrow at the _Cafe de Paris_, and tell Gramont-Caderousse +and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very +French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the +midst of this little party.' + +"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found +M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little +blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the +train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil +knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four +others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their +amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of +_sabir_[13] which helped things along. + +[Footnote 13: Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant--a mixture of +Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.] + +"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in +the evening to the Museum, to the _Hotel de Ville_, to the Imperial +Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the +registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give +you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: +Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- +ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.[14] + +[Footnote 14: I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the +Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who +accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count +Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"And there were five of them like that! + +"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, +everywhere, our success was colossal. At the _Cafe de Paris_, at +six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, +embraced me: '_Bono, Napoleon, bono, Eugenie; bono, Casimir; bono, +Christians_.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth +number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the _Folies Dramatiques_, and +Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the +heart. But the palm was for my dear Clementine, when she entered. I +must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China +blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the +pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of +green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence +which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. +The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between +their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed +bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged +with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a +diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined +in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of +blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin. + +"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, +especially, Clementine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemama, +brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup +arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already +much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique _a la +liqueur de Mme. Amphoux_, he showed every indication of illimitable +passion. The Cyprian wine _de la Commanderie_ made him quite sure of +his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, +intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the +indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when +the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner +in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet +in respect to wine. + +"At Mabille, while Clementine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three +Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took +me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain +commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik +Ahmed. + +"The next day, very early, I reached Clementine's house. + +"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, +'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.' + +"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly. + +"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with +you last night?' + +"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing. + +"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and +reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our +august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?' + +"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming +interested. + +"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august +sovereign, the Empress Eugenie?' + +"Clementine, looked startled. + +"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make +this offer.' + +"Clementine, dumb with amazement, did not reply. + +"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered. + +"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before +midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain +is made.' + +"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well +to display a little sentiment. + +"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!' + +"'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps +that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to +pay for your complexion cream!' + +"'Ah!' she sighed. + +"She added, however, 'And ... the child?' + +"'What child?' + +"'Our child ... our child.' + +"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and +loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles +him.' + +"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and +crying. + + +"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried +away the five Tuareg and Clementine. The young woman, radiant, was +leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy. + +"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly. + +"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied: + +"'_Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono_.' + +"At the last moment, Clementine had a pang of emotion. + +"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a +queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....' + +"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped +it onto mine. + +"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come--find us. Take Sidi +Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. _Bono_ +Ahaggar, _bono_.' + +"When I came out of the _Gare de Lyon_, I had the feeling of having +perpetrated an excellent joke." + +The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost +difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he +interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's +best score. + + _Dans un bois passait un jeune homme, + Un jeune homme frais et beau, + Sa main tenait une pomme, + Vous voyez d'ici le tableau_. + +"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, +poor old Casimir! Five thousand _louis_ to pay by the fifth of +September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat +and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But +the Empress was so kind. I found her alone--ah, people scatter quickly +under such circumstances!--alone, with a senator, M. Merimee, the only +literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the +world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. +Thiers, whom I just met on the _Pont Royal_, would listen to nothing.' + +"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her +true friends are.' + +"And I kissed her hand. + + "_Evohe, que les deesses + Out de droles de facons + Pour enjoler, pour enjoler, pour enjoler les gaaarcons_! + +"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered +the rabble going from the _Corps Legislatif_ to the Hotel de Ville. My +mind was made up. + +"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.' + +"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened. + +"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am +going to be killed on the barricades.' + +"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged +you. Will you forgive me?' + +"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not +always been right myself.' + +"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the +Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career. + +"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the _Gare +de Lyon_ in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'" + +The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the +cushions and slept with clenched fists. + +I walked unsteadily to the great window. + +The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains. + + + + +XIV + +HOURS OF WAITING + + +It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his +enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and +chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic +outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that +way--I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! +Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by +recalling such memories. + +One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that +Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By +the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black +desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! +the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those +letters, I said to him in a trembling voice: + +"Go on." + +He acquiesced without further words. + +"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when +the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I +found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that +the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter +into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for +the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from +Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this +delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation. + +"Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not +think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't +you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not +trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward +to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to +enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have +given--unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague +uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to +know that he was well and safe. + +"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of +Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women +were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and +Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not +endure _kouskous_ of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of +information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With +Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste +for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. +Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a +doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I +pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange. + +"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister +puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of +Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence +remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had +invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors +that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick +voice a couplet from the music of _La Reine Hortense_. + +_De ma fille Isabelle +Sois l'epoux a l'instant, +Car elle est la plus belle +Et toi, le plus vaillant_. + +"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old +skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid +printer of labels for the red marble hall,--how could I meet him +without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very +curious case of apocope: [Greek: Atlantinea]. Suppression of _alpha_, +of _tau_ and of _lambda_! I would like to direct your attention to +another case as curious: [Greek: klementinea], Clementine. Apocope of +_kappa_, of _lamba_, of _epsilon_ and of _mu_. If Morhange were with +us, he would tell you many charming erudite things about it. But, +alas! Morhange does not deign to come among us any more. We never see +Morhange.' + +"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from +Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished +so often as during those days of waiting! Now--after six years--she +must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was +very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against +those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through +politeness. + +"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey +by the merchants of Rhat, she was born in Constantinople and had been +brought into Africa by her master when he became _kaimakam_ of +Rhadames.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering +history by the incantations of this manicure. + +"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of +El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemama, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great +and noble tribe of Kel-Rhela. She was born in the year twelve hundred +and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. +Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this +Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, +and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to +Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have +lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she +prefers to have them come to her.' + +"'Cegheir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely +devoted to her?' + +"'Nobody here knows Cegheir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is +continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to +Antinea. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin +of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, he owes his life to her. He is +one of the men who assassinated the great Kebir Flatters. On account +of that, Ikenoukhen, _amenokol_ of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French +reprisals, wanted to deliver Cegheir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the +whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes +the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then +twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of +occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red +marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.' + +"'And Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties +successfully?' + +"'Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as +I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made +mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le +Mesge and marabout Spardek.' + +"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?' + +"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has +never made a mistake.' + +"'He has never made a mistake?' + +"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought +here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom +they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the +handsomest of all.' + +"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them +their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?' + +"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, +whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would +soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would +massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has +brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing +Antinea.' + +"'She keeps them a long time?' + +"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two +months, three months, on the average. It depends. A big Belgian +officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other +hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English +officer: she kept him almost a year.' + +"'And then?' + +"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my +question. + +"'Of what did he die?' + +"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge: + +"'Like all the others: of love. + +"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that +their time is ended, and that Cegheir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find +others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They +neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All +night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed +through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: +he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of +_kif_, a _kif_ that is more violent than opium. When they no longer +have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the +happiest. Little Kaine died differently.' + +"'How did little Kaine die?' + +"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed +longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In +Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, +there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very +heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his +dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, +mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A +Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the +Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the +time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding +guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. +The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest +difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only +to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble +hall.' + +"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass. + +"'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for +this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written +something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.' + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window +through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have +killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought +was in my heart. + +"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when +Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does +she not? Nobody sees him any more?' + +The old woman shook her head. + +"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. +Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to +her immediately.' + +"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....' + +"The Negress smiled comprehendingly. + +"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near +her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.' + +"I struck my fist violently upon the table. + +"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!' + +"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little +instruments. + +"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....' + +"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my +way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed +open the door of the red marble hall. I entered. + +"The freshness of the perfumed crypt did me good. No place can be so +sinister that it is not, as it were, purified by the murmur of running +water. The cascade, gurgling in the middle hall, comforted me. One day +before an attack I was lying with my section in deep grass, waiting +for the moment, the blast of the bugle, which would demand that we +leap forward into the hail of bullets. A stream was at my feet. I +listened to its fresh rippling. I admired the play of light and shade +in the transparent water, the little beasts, the little black fish, +the green grass, the yellow wrinkled sand.... The mystery of water +always has carried me out of myself. + +"Here, in this magic hall, my thoughts were held by the dark +cascade. It felt friendly. It kept me from faltering in the midst of +these rigid evidences of so many monstrous sacrifices.... Number 26. +It was he all right. Lieutenant Douglas Kaine, born at Edinburgh, +September 21, 1862. Died at Ahaggar, July 16, 1890. Twenty-eight. +He wasn't even twenty-eight! His face was thin under the coat of +orichalch. His mouth sad and passionate. It was certainly he. Poor +youngster.--Edinburgh,--I knew Edinburgh, without ever having been +there. From the wall of the castle you can see the Pentland hills. +"Look a little lower down," said Stevenson's sweet Miss Flora to Anne +of Saint-Yves, "look a little lower down and you will see, in the fold +of the hill, a clump of trees and a curl of smoke that rises from +among them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I live with +my aunt. If it really pleases you to see it, I shall be glad." When he +left for Darfour, Douglas Kaine must surely have left in Edinburgh a +Miss Flora, as blonde as Saint-Yves' Flora. But what are these slips +of girls beside Antinea! Kaine, however sensible a mortal, however +made for this kind of love, had loved otherwise. He was dead. And here +was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of +the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also. + +"To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble +hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! +Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be +multiplied? Other women, in other parts of the world, are doubtless as +beautiful as Antinea, more beautiful perhaps. I hold you to witness +that I have not said much about her beauty. Why then, this obsession, +this fever, this consumption of all my being? Why am I ready, for the +sake of pressing this quivering form within my arms for one instant, +to face things that I dare not think of for fear I should tremble +before them? + +"Here is number 53, the last. Morhange will be 54. I shall be 55. In +six months, eight, perhaps,--what difference anyway?--I shall be +hoisted into this niche, an image without eyes, a dead soul, a +finished body. + +"I touched the heights of bliss, of exaltation that can be felt. What +a child I was, just now! I lost my temper with a Negro manicure. I was +jealous of Morhange, on my word! Why not, since I was at it, be +jealous of those here present; then of the others, the absent, who +will come, one by one, to fill the black circle of the still empty +niches.... Morhange, I know, is at this moment with Antinea, and it is +to me a bitter and splendid joy to think of his joy. But some evening, +in three months, four perhaps, the embalmers will come here. Niche 54 +will receive its prey. Then a Targa slave will advance toward me. I +shall shiver with superb ecstasy. He will touch my arm. And it will be +my turn to penetrate into eternity by the bleeding door of love. + +"When I emerged from my meditation, I found myself back in the +library, where the falling night obscured the shadows of the people +who were assembled there. + +"I recognized M. Le Mesge, the Pastor, the Hetman, Aguida, two Tuareg +slaves, still more, all joining in the most animated conference. + +"I drew nearer, astonished, even alarmed to see together so many +people who ordinarily felt no kind of sympathy for each other. + +"An unheard of occurrence had thrown all the people of the mountain +into uproar. + +"Two Spanish explorers, come from Rio de Oro, had been seen to the +West, in Adhar Ahnet. + +"As soon as Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was informed, he had prepared to go to +meet them. + +"At that instant he had received the order to do nothing. + +"Henceforth it was impossible to doubt. + +"For the first time, Antinea was in love." + + + + +XV + +THE LAMENT OF TANIT-ZERGA + + +"_Arraou, arraou_." + +I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep to which I had finally +succumbed. I half opened my eyes. Immediately I flattened back. + +"_Arraou_." + +Two feet from my face was the muzzle of King Hiram, yellow with a +tracery of black. The leopard was helping me to wake up; otherwise he +took little interest, for he yawned; his dark red jaws, beautiful +gleaming white fangs, opened and closed lazily. + +At the same moment I heard a burst of laughter. + +It was little Tanit-Zerga. She was crouching on a cushion near the +divan where I was stretched out, curiously watching my close interview +with the leopard. + +"King Hiram was bored," she felt obliged to explain to me. "I brought +him." + +"How nice," I growled. "Only tell me, could he not have gone somewhere +else to be amused?" + +"He is all alone now," said the girl. "_They_ have sent him away. He +made too much noise when he played." + +These words recalled me to the events of the previous evening. + +"If you like, I will make him go away," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"No, let him alone." + +I looked at the leopard with sympathy. Our common misfortune brought +us together. + +I even caressed his rounded forehead. King Hiram showed his +contentment by stretching out at full length and uncurling his great +amber claws. The mat on the floor had much to suffer. + +"Gale is here, too," said the little girl. + +"Gale! Who may he be?" + +At the same time, I saw on Tanit-Zerga's knees a strange animal, +about the size of a big cat, with flat ears, and a long muzzle. Its +pale gray fur was rough. + +It was watching me with queer little pink eyes. + +"It is my mongoose," explained Tanit-Zerga. + +"Come now," I said sharply, "is that all?" + +I must have looked so crabbed and ridiculous that Tanit-Zerga began to +laugh. I laughed, too. + +"Gale is my friend," she said when she was serious again. "I saved her +life. It was when she was quite little. I will tell you about it some +day. See how good-natured she is." + +So saying, she dropped the mongoose on my knees. + +"It is very nice of you, Tanit-Zerga," I said, "to come and pay me a +visit." I passed my hand slowly over the animal's back. "What time is +it now?" + +"A little after nine. See, the sun is already high. Let me draw the +shade." + +The room was in darkness. Gale's eyes grew redder. King Hiram's became +green. + +"It is very nice of you," I repeated, pursuing my idea. "I see that +you are free to-day. You never came so early before." + +A shade passed over the girl's forehead. + +"Yes, I am free," she said, almost bitterly. + +I looked at Tanit-Zerga more closely. For the first time I realized +that she was beautiful. Her hair, which she wore falling over her +shoulders, was not so much curly as it was gently waving. Her features +were of remarkable fineness: the nose very straight, a small mouth +with delicate lips, a strong chin. She was not black, but copper +colored. Her slender graceful body had nothing in common with the +disgusting thick sausages which the carefully cared for bodies of the +blacks become. + +A large circle of copper made a heavy decoration around her forehead +and hair. She had four bracelets, still heavier, on her wrists and +anklets, and, for clothing, a green silk tunic, slashed in points, +braided with gold. Green, bronze, gold. + +"You are a Sonrhai, Tanit-Zerga?" I asked gently. + +She replied with almost ferocious pride: + +"I am a Sonrhai." + +"Strange little thing," I thought. + +Evidently this was a subject on which Tanit-Zerga did not intend the +conversation to turn. I recalled how, almost painfully, she had +pronounced that "they," when she had told me how they had driven away +King Hiram. + +"I am a Sonrhai," she repeated. "I was born at Gao, on the Niger, the +ancient Sonrhai capital. My fathers reigned over the great Mandingue +Empire. You need not scorn me because I am here as a slave." + +In a ray of sunlight, Gale, seated on his little haunches, washed his +shining mustaches with his forepaws; and King Hiram, stretched out on +the mat, groaned plaintively in his sleep. + +"He is dreaming," said Tanit-Zerga, a finger on her lips. + +There was a moment of silence. Then she said: + +"You must be hungry. And I do not think that you will want to eat with +the others." + +I did not answer. + +"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something +to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Gale's dinner +here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone." + +And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my +answer. + +That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she +came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of +Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that +she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to +her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself, +dared not direct the conversation. + +To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like +a nervous little parokeet. + +I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended +me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big +and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my +delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me. + +In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and +among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life. + +It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far +this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou +art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou +watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not +having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou +deservedest so richly. + +"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and +rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth +waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger, +it was.... But you are not listening to me." + +"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga." + +"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?" + +"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on." + +"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at +the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees, +brothers of the _zeg-zeg_, the spines of which pierced the head of +your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our +prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of Paradise;[15] +and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse +its shade in a century. + +[Footnote 15: The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)] + +"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the +caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to +ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great +snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in +glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash. + +"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gao the deathlike lull +of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of +the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep +along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies +on the banks, and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of +the mud flats. + +"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the +morning; and to fete the sun setting behind the black branches of the +_douldouls_, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our +hands, as we sang the Sonrhai hymn. + +"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must +not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you +like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who +must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold +ribbons he had on his white sleeves." + +"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere. + +"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay +no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these +things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gao, the Niger makes a +bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with +large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking. +Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the +morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum, +boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder--boum-boum, +boum-baraboum--and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds, +aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum +trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely +flurried by the breeze that was springing up. + +"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook +the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that +the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was +dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening. + +"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down, +manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon +leapt ashore. + +"The oldest, a French _marabout_, with a great white burnous, who knew +our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my +father advanced and told him that it was he, the _marabout_ told him +that the commandant of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a +mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that +she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage +towards Ansango. + +"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives +against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but +for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the +resources of Gao, including the forge, at the disposition of the +French chief, for repairing the gunboat. + +"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked +at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little +bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear. + +"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice. + +"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,' +I replied, vexed at his informality. + +"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you +give me the flowers that you have around your neck?' + +"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He +kissed me. The peace was made. + +"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and +strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the +river. + +"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief +mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away +before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy +soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.' + +"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend. + +"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little +companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most +beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that +had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great +cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I +went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay +with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples +on the surface of the dark waves. + +"That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French +officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his +head: 'Caw,--caw--the shade of the gum trees of Gao--caw, caw--will +avail nothing tomorrow night--caw, caw--to the white chief nor to his +escort.' + +"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers. +They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage +of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing. + +"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority: + +'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that +the shade of the gum trees of Gao would be fatal to your chief in the +coming night!...' + +"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the +sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added: + +"'And to his escort!' + +"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating +in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic +entered. + +"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like +angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave +this evening.' + +"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by +too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the +week. It will be better to start in the morning.' + +"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my +dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he +said gravely: + +"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you +wish it.' + +"And he kissed me. + +"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left +the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who +waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the +rickety jetty, I waited, watching the water flow by, until the last +sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into +the night."[16] + +[Footnote 16: Cf. the records and the _Bulletin de la Societe de +Geographie de Paris_ (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the +_Commandant_ of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants +Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note +by M. Leroux.)] + +Tanit-Zerga paused. + +"That was the last night of Gao. While I was sleeping and the moon was +still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant. +Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can +never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found +me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my +little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who +escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among +them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men. +Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of +Gao beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gao had been razed +by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their +gunboat. + +"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being +pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp +disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen, +in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan +Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhat. At first, because they went +more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was +an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the +men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick +for having refused to go farther. + +"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead +as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each +time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one +of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a +little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me +turn around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor +arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed +in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from +a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue +steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later, +driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears, +trying to regain my place in the caravan. + +"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg +of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhela, which rules +over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man. +That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who +was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it +is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not +even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhai Emperors, +of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed +Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen +hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand _mithkal_ of gold in the +days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to +the western sea, and when Gao raised her cupola, sister of the sky, +above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the +tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum." + + + + +XVI + +THE SILVER HAMMER + + _Je ne m'en defends plus et je ne veux qu' aller + Reconnaitre la place ou je dois l'immoler_. + (Andromaque.) + + +It was this sort of a night when what I am going to tell you now +happened. Toward five o'clock the sky clouded over and a sense of the +coming storm trembled in the stifling air. + +I shall always remember it. It was the fifth of January, 1897. + +King Hiram and Gale lay heavily on the matting of my room. Leaning on +my elbows beside Tanit-Zerga in the rock-hewn window, I spied the +advance tremors of lightning. + +One by one they rose, streaking the now total darkness with their +bluish stripes. But no burst of thunder followed. The storm did not +attain the peaks of Ahaggar. It passed without breaking, leaving us in +our gloomy bath of sweat. + +"I am going to bed," said Tanit-Zerga. + +I have said that her room was above mine. Its bay window was some +thirty feet above that before which I lay. + +She took Gale in her arms. But King Hiram would have none of it. +Digging his four paws into the matting, he whined in anger and +uneasiness. + +"Leave him," I finally said to Tanit-Zerga. "For once he may sleep +here." + +So it was that this little beast incurred his large share of +responsibility in the events which followed. + +Left alone, I became lost in my reflections. The night was black. The +whole mountain was shrouded in silence. + +It took the louder and louder growls of the leopard to rouse me from +my meditation. + +King Hiram was braced against the door, digging at it with his drawn +claws. He, who had refused to follow Tanit-Zerga a while ago, now +wanted to go out. He was determined to go out. + +"Be still," I said to him. "Enough of that. Lie down!" + +I tried to pull him away from the door. + +I succeeded only in getting a staggering blow from his paw. + +Then I sat down on the divan. + +My quiet was short. "Be honest with yourself," I said. "Since Morhange +abandoned you, since the day when you saw Antinea, you have had only +one idea. What good is it to beguile yourself with the stories of +Tanit-Zerga, charming as they are? This leopard is a pretext, perhaps +a guide. Oh, you know that mysterious things are going to happen +tonight. How have you been able to keep from doing anything as long as +this?" + +Immediately I made a resolve. + +"If I open the door," I thought, "King Hiram will leap down the +corridor and I shall have great difficulty in following him. I must +find some other way." + +The shade of the window was worked by means of a small cord. I pulled +it down. Then I tied it into a firm leash which I fastened to the +metal collar of the leopard. + +I half opened the door. + +"There, now you can go. But quietly, quietly." + +I had all the trouble in the world to curb the ardor of King Hiram who +dragged me along the shadowy labyrinth of corridors. It was shortly +before nine o'clock, and the rose-colored night lights were almost +burned out in the niches. Now and then, we passed one which was +casting its last flickers. What a labyrinth! I realized that from here +on I would not recognize the way to her room. I could only follow the +leopard. + +At first furious, he gradually became used to towing me. He strained +ahead, belly to the ground, with snuffs of joy. + +Nothing is more like one black corridor than another black corridor. +Doubt seized me. Suppose I should suddenly find myself in the baccarat +room! But that was unjust to King Hiram. Barred too long from the dear +presence, the good beast was taking me exactly where I wanted him to +take me. + +Suddenly, at a turn, the darkness ahead lifted. A rose window, faintly +glimmering red and green, appeared before us. + +The leopard stopped with a low growl before the door in which the rose +window was cut. + +I recognized it as the door through which the white Targa had led me +the day after my arrival, when I had been set upon by King Hiram, when +I had found myself in the presence of Antinea. + +"We are much better friends to-day," I said, flattering him so that he +would not give a dangerously loud growl. + +I tried to open the door. The light, coming through the window, fell +upon the floor, green and red. + +A simple latch, which I turned. I shortened the leash to have better +control of King Hiram who was getting nervous. + +The great room where I had seen Antinea for the first time was +completely dark. But the garden on which it gave shone under a +clouded moon, in a sky weighted down with the storm which did not +break. Not a breath of air. The lake gleamed like a sheet of pewter. + +I seated myself on a cushion, holding the leopard firmly between my +knees. He was purring with impatience. I was thinking. Not about my +goal. For a long time that had been fixed. But about the means. + +Then, I seemed to hear a distant murmur, a faint sound of voices. + +King Hiram growled louder, struggled. I gave him a little more leash. +He began to rub along the dark walls on the sides whence the voices +seemed to come. I followed him, stumbling as quietly as I could among +the scattered cushions. + +My eyes, become accustomed to the darkness, could see the pyramid of +cushions on which Antinea had first appeared to me. + +Suddenly I stumbled. The leopard had stopped. I realized that I had +stepped on his tail. Brave beast, he did not make a sound. + +Groping along the wall, I felt a second door. Quietly, very quietly, I +opened it as I had opened the preceding one. The leopard whimpered +feebly. + +"King Hiram," I murmured, "be quiet." + +And I put my arms about his powerful neck. + +I felt his warm wet tongue on my hands. His flanks quivered. He shook +with happiness. + +In front of us, lighted in the center, another room opened up. In the +middle six men were squatting on the matting, playing dice and +drinking coffee from tiny copper coffee cups with long stems. + +They were the white Tuareg. + +A lamp, hung from the ceiling, threw a circle of light over them. +Everything outside that circle was in deep shadow. + +The black faces, the copper cups, the white robes, the moving light +and shadow, made a strange etching. + +They played with a reserved dignity, announcing the throws in raucous +voices. + +Then, slowly, very slowly, I slipped the leash from the collar of the +impatient little beast. + +"Go, boy." + +He leapt with a sharp yelp. + +And what I had foreseen happened. + +The first bound of King Hiram carried him into the midst of the white +Tuareg, sowing confusion in the bodyguard. Another leap carried him +into the shadow again. I made out vaguely the shaded opening of +another corridor on the side of the room opposite where I was +standing. + +"There!" I thought. + +The confusion in the room was indescribable, but noiseless. One +realized the restraint which nearness to a great presence imposed upon +the exasperated guards. The stakes and the dice-boxes had rolled in +one direction, the copper cups, in the other. + +Two of the Tuareg, doubled up with pain, were rubbing their ribs with +low oaths. + +I need not say that I profited by this silent confusion to glide into +the room. I was now flattened against the wall of the second corridor, +down which King Hiram had just disappeared. + +At that moment a clear gong echoed in the silence. The trembling which +seized the Tuareg assured me that I had chosen the right way. + +One of the six men got up. He passed me and I fell in behind him. I +was perfectly calm. My least movement was perfectly calculated. + +"All that I risk here now," I said to myself, "is being led back +politely to my room." + +The Targa lifted a curtain. I followed on his heels into the chamber +of Antinea. + +The room was huge and at once well lighted and very dark. While the +right half, where Antinea was, gleamed under shaded lamps, the left +was dim. + +Those who have penetrated into a Mussulman home know what a _guignol_ +is, a kind of square niche in the wall, four feet from the floor, its +opening covered by a curtain. One mounts to it by wooden steps. I +noticed such a _guignol_ at my left. I crept into it. My pulses beat +in the shadow. But I was calm, quite calm. + +There I could see and hear everything. + +I was in Antinea's chamber. There was nothing singular about the room, +except the great luxury of the hangings. The ceiling was in shadow, +but multicolored lanterns cast a vague and gentle light over gleaming +stuffs and furs. + +Antinea was stretched out on a lion's skin, smoking. A little silver +tray and pitcher lay beside her. King Hiram was flattened out at her +feet, licking them madly. + +The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the +other on his forehead, saluting. + +Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man. + +"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be +alone." + +"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly. + +"The doors were not closed, then?" + +The slave did not answer. + +"Shall I take him away?" he asked. + +And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, +expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply. + +"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea. + +She tapped nervously on the little silver tray. + +"What is the captain doing?" she asked. + +"He dined a while ago and seemed to enjoy his food," the Targa +answered. + +"Has he said nothing?" + +"Yes, he asked to see his companion, the other officer." + +Antinea tapped the little tray still more rapidly. + +"Did he say nothing else?" + +"No, mistress," said the man. + +A pallor overspread the Atlantide's little forehead. + +"Go get him," she said brusquely. + +Bowing, the Targa left the room. + +I listened to this dialogue with great anxiety. Was this Morhange? Had +he been faithful to me, after all? Had I suspected him unjustly? He +had wanted to see me and been unable to! + +My eyes never left Antinea's. + +She was no longer the haughty, mocking princess of our first +interview. She no longer wore the golden circlet on her forehead. Not +a bracelet, not a ring. She was dressed only in a full flowing tunic. +Her black hair, unbound, lay in masses of ebony over her slight +shoulders and her bare arms. + +Her beautiful eyes were deep circled. Her divine mouth drooped. I did +not know whether I was glad or sorry to see this new quivering +Cleopatra. + +Flattened at her feet, King Hiram gazed submissively at her. + +An immense orichalch mirror with golden reflections was set into the +wall at the right. Suddenly she raised herself erect before it. I saw +her nude. + +A splendid and bitter sight!--A woman who thinks herself alone, +standing before her mirror in expectation of the man she wishes to +subdue! + +The six incense-burners scattered about the room sent up invisible +columns of perfume. The balsam spices of Arabia wore floating webs in +which my shameless senses were entangled.... And, back toward me, +standing straight as a lily, Antinea smiled into her mirror. + +Low steps sounded in the corridor. Antinea immediately fell back into +the nonchalant pose in which I had first seen her. One had to see such +a transformation to believe it possible. + +Morhange entered the room, preceded by a white Targa. + +He, too, seemed rather pale. But I was most struck by the expression +of serene peace on that face which I thought I knew so well. I felt +that I never had understood what manner of man Morhange was, never. + +He stood erect before Antinea without seeming to notice her gesture +inviting him to be seated. + +She smiled at him. + +"You are surprised, perhaps," she said finally, "that I should send +for you at so late an hour." + +Morhange did not move an eyelash. + +"Have you considered it well?" she demanded. + +Morhange smiled gravely, but did not reply. + +I could read in Antinea's face the effort it cost her to continue +smiling; I admired the self-control of these two beings. + +"I sent for you," she continued. "You do not guess why?... Well, it is +to tell you something that you do not expect. It will be no surprise +to you if I say that I never met a man like you. During your +captivity, you have expressed only one wish. Do you recall it?" + +"I asked your permission to see my friend before I died," said +Morhange simply. + +I do not know what stirred me more on hearing these words: delight at +Morhange's formal tone in speaking to Antinea, or emotion at hearing +the one wish he had expressed. + +But Antinea continued calmly: + +"That is why I sent for you--to tell you that you are going to see him +again. And I am going to do something else. You will perhaps scorn me +even more when you realize that you had only to oppose me to bend me +to your will--I, who have bent all other wills to mine. But, however +that may be, it is decided: I give you both your liberty. Tomorrow +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh will lead you past the fifth enclosure. Are you +satisfied?" + +"I am," said Morhange with a mocking smile. + +"That will give me a chance," he continued, "to make better plans for +the next trip I intend to make this way. For you need not doubt that I +shall feel bound to return to express my gratitude. Only, next time, +to render so great a queen the honors due her, I shall ask my +government to furnish me with two or three hundred European soldiers +and several cannon." + +Antinea was standing up, very pale. + +"What are you saying?" + +"I am saying," said Morhange coldly, "that I foresaw this. First +threats, then promises." + +Antinea stepped toward him. He had folded his arms. He looked at her +with a sort of grave pity. + +"I will make you die in the most atrocious agonies," she said finally. + +"I am your prisoner," Morhange replied. + +"You shall suffer things that you cannot even imagine." + +"I am your prisoner," repeated Morhange in the same sad calm. + +Antinea paced the room like a beast in a cage. She advanced toward my +companion and, no longer mistress of herself, struck him in the face. + +He smiled and caught hold of her, drawing her little wrists together +with a strange mixture of force and gentleness. + +King Hiram growled. I thought he was about to leap. But the cold eyes +of Morhange held him fascinated. + +"I will have your comrade killed before your eyes," gasped Antinea. + +It seemed to me that Morhange paled, but only for a second. I was +overcome by the nobility and insight of his reply. + +"My companion is brave. He does not fear death. And, in any case, he +would prefer death to life purchased at the price you name." + +So saying, he let go Antinea's wrists. Her pallor was terrible. From +the expression of her mouth I felt that this would be her last word to +him. + +"Listen," she said. + +How beautiful she was, in her scorned majesty, her beauty powerless +for the first time! + +"Listen," she continued. "Listen. For the last time. Remember that I +hold the gates of this palace, that I have supreme power over your +life. Remember that you breathe only at my pleasure. Remember...." + +"I have remembered all that," said Morhange. + +"A last time," she repeated. + +The serenity of Morhange's face was so powerful that I scarcely +noticed his opponent. In that transfigured countenance, no trace of +worldliness remained. + +"A last time," came Antinea's voice, almost breaking. + +Morhange was not even looking at her. + +"As you will," she said. + +Her gong resounded. She had struck the silver disc. The white Targa +appeared. + +"Leave the room!" + +Morhange, his head held high, went out. + +Now Antinea is in my arms. This is no haughty, voluptuous woman whom +I am pressing to my heart. It is only an unhappy, scorned little girl. + +So great was her trouble that she showed no surprise when I stepped +out beside her. Her head is on my shoulder. Like the crescent moon in +the black clouds, I see her clear little bird-like profile amid her +mass of hair. Her warm arms hold me convulsively.... _O tremblant +coeur humain_.... + +Who could resist such an embrace, amid the soft perfumes, in the +langorous night? I feel myself a being without will. Is this my voice, +the voice which is murmuring: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it, I will do it." + +My senses are sharpened, tenfold keen. My head rests against a soft, +nervous little knee. Clouds of odors whirl about me. Suddenly it seems +as if the golden lanterns are waving from the ceiling like giant +censers. Is this my voice, the voice repeating in a dream: + +"Ask me what you will, and I will do it. I will do it." + +Antinea's face is almost touching mine. A strange light flickers in +her great eyes. + +Beyond, I see the gleaming eyes of King Hiram. Beside him, there is a +little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong +with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she +struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver +head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death.... + +I see nothing more.... + + + + +XVII + +THE MAIDENS OF THE ROCKS + + +I awakened in my room. The sun, already at its zenith, filled the +place with unbearable light and heat. + +The first thing I saw, on opening my eyes, was the shade, ripped down, +lying in the middle of the floor. Then, confusedly, the night's events +began to come back to me. + +My head felt stupid and heavy. My mind wandered. My memory seemed +blocked. "I went out with the leopard, that is certain. That red mark +on my forefinger shows how he strained at the leash. My knees are +still dusty. I remember creeping along the wall in the room where the +white Tuareg were playing at dice. That was the minute after King +Hiram had leapt past them. After that ... oh, Morhange and Antinea.... +And then?" + +I recalled nothing more. I recalled nothing more. But something must +have happened, something which I could not remember. + +I was uneasy. I wanted to go back, yet it seemed as if I were afraid +to go. I have never felt anything more painful than those conflicting +emotions. + +"It is a long way from here to Antinea's apartments. I must have been +very sound asleep not to have noticed when they brought me back--for +they have brought me back." + +I stopped trying to think it out. My head ached too much. + +"I must have air," I murmured. "I am roasting here; it will drive me +mad." + +I had to see someone, no matter whom. Mechanically, I walked toward +the library. + +I found M. Le Mesge in a transport of delirious joy. The Professor was +engaged in opening an enormous bale, carefully sewed in a brown +blanket. + +"You come at a good time, sir," he cried, on seeing me enter. "The +magazines have just arrived." + +He dashed about in feverish haste. Presently a stream of pamphlets and +magazines, blue, green, yellow and salmon, was bursting from an +opening in the bale. + +"Splendid, splendid!" he cried, dancing with joy. "Not too late, +either; here are the numbers for October fifteenth. We must give a +vote of thanks to good Ameur." + +His good spirits were contagious. + +"There is a good Turkish merchant who subscribes to all the +interesting magazines of the two continents. He sends them on by +Rhadames to a destination which he little suspects. Ah, here are the +French ones." + +M. Le Mesge ran feverishly over, the tables of contents. + +"Internal politics: articles by Francis Charmes, Anatole +Leroy-Beaulieu, d'Haussonville on the Czar's trip to Paris. Look, a +study by Avenel of wages in the Middle Ages. And verse, verses of the +young poets, Fernand Gregh, Edmond Haraucourt. Ah, the resume of a +book by Henry de Castries on Islam. That may be interesting.... Take +what you please." + +Joy makes people amiable and M. Le Mesge was really delirious with it. + +A puff of breeze came from the window. I went to the balustrade and, +resting my elbows on it, began to run through a number of the _Revue +des Deux Mondes_. + +I did not read, but flipped over the pages, my eyes now on the lines +of swarming little black characters, now on the rocky basin which lay +shivering, pale pink, under the declining sun. + +Suddenly my attention became fixed. There was a strange coincidence +between the text and the landscape. + +"In the sky overhead were only light shreds of cloud, like bits of +white ash floating up from burnt-out logs. The sun fell over a circle +of rocky peaks, silhouetting their severe lines against the azure sky. +From on high, a great sadness and gentleness poured down into the +lonely enclosure, like a magic drink into a deep cup...."[17] + +[Footnote 17: Gabrielle d'Annunzio: _Les Vierges aux Rochers_. Cf. The +_Revue des Deux Mondes_ of October 15, 1896; page 867.] + +I turned the pages feverishly. My mind seemed to be clearing. + +Behind me, M. Le Mesge, deep in an article, voiced his opinions in +indignant growls. + +I continued reading: + +"On all sides a magnificent view spread out before us in the raw +light. The chain of rocks, clearly visible in their barren desolation +which stretched to the very summit, lay stretched out like some great +heap of gigantic, unformed things left by some primordial race of +Titans to stupefy human beings. Overturned towers...." + +"It is shameful, downright shameful," the Professor was repeating. + +"Overturned towers, crumbling citadels, cupolas fallen in, broken +pillars, mutilated colossi, prows of vessels, thighs of monsters, +bones of titans,--this mass, impassable with its ridges and gullies, +seemed the embodiment of everything huge and tragic. So clear were the +distances...." + +"Downright shameful," M. Le Mesge kept on saying in exasperation, +thumping his fist on the table. + +"So clear were the distances that I could see, as if I had it under my +eyes, infinitely enlarged, every contour of the rock which Violante +had shown me through the window with the gesture of a creator...." + +Trembling, I closed the magazine. At my feet, now red, I saw the rock +which Antinea had pointed out to me the day of our first interview, +huge, steep, overhanging the reddish brown garden. + +"That is my horizon," she had said. + +M. Le Mesge's excitement had passed all bounds. + +"It is worse than shameful; it is infamous." + +I almost wanted to strangle him into silence. He seized my arm. + +"Read that, sir; and, although you don't know a great deal about the +subject, you will see that this article on Roman Africa is a miracle +of misinformation, a monument of ignorance. And it is signed ... do +you know by whom it is signed?" + +"Leave me alone," I said brutally. + +"Well, it is signed Gaston Boissier. Yes, sir! Gaston Boissier, grand +officer of the Legion of Honor, lecturer at the _Ecole Normale +Superieure_, permanent secretary of the French Academy, member of the +Academy of Inscriptions and Literature, one of those who once ruled +out the subject of my thesis ... one of those ... ah, poor university, +ah, poor France!" + +I was no longer listening. I had begun to read again. My forehead was +covered with sweat. But it seemed as if my head had been cleared like +a room when a window is opened; memories were beginning to come back +like doves winging their way home to the dovecote. + +"At that moment, an irrepressible tremor shook her whole body; her +eyes dilated as if some terrible sight had filled them with horror. + +"'Antonello,' she murmured. + +"And for seconds, she was unable to say another word. + +"I looked at her in mute anguish and the suffering which drew her dear +lips together seemed also to clutch at my heart. The vision which was +in her eyes passed into mine, and I saw again the thin white face of +Antonello, and the quick quivering of his eyelids, the waves of agony +which seized his long worn body and shook it like a reed." + +I threw the magazine upon the table. + +"That is it," I said. + +To cut the pages, I had used the knife with which M. Le Mesge had cut +the cords of the bale, a short ebony-handled dagger, one of those +daggers that the Tuareg wear in a bracelet sheath against the upper +left arm. + +I slipped it into the big pocket of my flannel dolman and walked +toward the door. + +I was about to cross the threshold when I heard M. Le Mesge call me. + +"Monsieur de Saint Avit! Monsieur de Saint Avit! + +"I want to ask you something, please." + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing important. You know that I have to mark the labels for the +red marble hall...." + +I walked toward the table. + +"Well, I forgot to ask M. Morhange, at the beginning, the date and +place of his birth. After that, I had no chance. I did not see him +again. So I am forced to turn to you. Perhaps you can tell me?" + +"I can," I said very calmly. + +He took a large white card from a box which contained several and +dipped his pen. + +"Number 54 ... Captain?" + +"Captain Jean-Marie-Francois Morhange." + +While I dictated, one hand resting on the table, I noticed on my cuff +a stain, a little stain, reddish brown. + +"Morhange," repeated M. Le Mesge, finishing the lettering of my +friend's name. "Born at...?" + +"Villefranche." + +"Villefranche, Rhone. What date?" + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859." + +"The fourteenth of October, 1859. Good. Died at Ahaggar, the fifth of +January, 1897.... There, that is done. A thousand thanks, sir, for +your kindness." + +"You are welcome." + +I left M. Le Mesge. + +My mind, thenceforth, was well made up; and, as I said, I was +perfectly calm. Nevertheless, when I had taken leave of M. Le Mesge, I +felt the need of waiting a few minutes before executing my decision. + +First I wandered through the corridors; then, finding myself near my +room, I went to it. It was still intolerably hot. I sat down on my +divan and began to think. + +The dagger in my pocket bothered me. I took it out and laid it on the +floor. + +It was a good dagger, with a diamond-shaped blade, and with a collar +of orange leather between the blade and the handle. + +The sight of it recalled the silver hammer. I remembered how easily it +fitted into my hand when I struck.... + +Every detail of the scene came back to me with incomparable vividness. +But I did not even shiver. It seemed as if my determination to kill +the instigator of the murder permitted me peacefully to evoke its +brutal details. + +If I reflected over my deed, it was to be surprised at it, not to +condemn myself. + +"Well," I said to myself, "I have killed this Morhange, who was once a +baby, who, like all the others, cost his mother so much trouble with +his baby sicknesses. I have put an end to his life, I have reduced to +nothingness the monument of love, of tears, of trials overcome and +pitfalls escaped, which constitutes a human existence. What an +extraordinary adventure!" + +That was all. No fear, no remorse, none of that Shakespearean horror +after the murder, which, today, sceptic though I am and blase and +utterly, utterly disillusioned, sets me shuddering whenever I am alone +in a dark room. + +"Come," I thought. "It's time. Time to finish it up." + +I picked up the dagger. Before putting it in my pocket, I went through +the motion of striking. All was well. The dagger fitted into my hand. + +I had been through Antinea's apartment only when guided, the first +time by the white Targa, the second time, by the leopard. Yet I found +the way again without trouble. Just before coming to the door with the +rose window, I met a Targa. + +"Let me pass," I ordered. "Your mistress has sent for me." The man +obeyed, stepping back. + +Soon a dim melody came to my ears. I recognized the sound of a +_rebaza_, the violin with a single string, played by the Tuareg women. +It was Aguida playing, squatting as usual at the feet of her mistress. +The three other women were also squatted about her. Tanit-Zerga was +not there. + +Oh! Since that was the last time I saw her, let, oh, let me tell you +of Antinea, how she looked in that supreme moment. + +Did she feel the danger hovering over her and did she wish to brave it +by her surest artifices? I had in mind the slender; unadorned body, +without rings, without jewels, which I had pressed to my heart the +night before. And now I started in surprise at seeing before me, +adorned like an idol, not a woman, but a queen! + +The heavy splendor of the Pharaohs weighted down her slender body. On +her head was the great gold _pschent_ of Egyptian gods and kings; +emeralds, the national stone of the Tuareg, were set in it, tracing +and retracing her name in Tifinar characters. A red satin _schenti_, +embroidered in golden lotus, enveloped her like the casket of a jewel. +At her feet, lay an ebony scepter, headed with a trident. Her bare +arms were encircled by two serpents whose fangs touched her armpits as +if to bury themselves there. From the ear pieces of the _pschent_ +streamed a necklace of emeralds; its first strand passed under her +determined chin; the others lay in circles against her bare throat. + +She smiled as I entered. + +"I was expecting you," she said simply. + +I advanced till I was four steps from the throne, then stopped before +her. + +She looked at me ironically. + +"What is that?" she asked with perfect calm. + +I followed her gesture. The handle of the dagger protruded from my +pocket. + +I drew it out and held it firmly in my hand, ready to strike. + +"The first of you who moves will be sent naked six leagues into the +red desert and left there to die," said Antinea coldly to her women, +whom my gesture had thrown into a frightened murmuring. + +She turned to me. + +"That dagger is very ugly and you hold it badly. Shall I send Sydya to +my room to get the silver hammer? You are more adroit with it than +with the dagger." + +"Antinea," I said in a low voice, "I am going to kill you." + +"Do not speak so formally. You were more affectionate last night. Are +you embarrassed by them?" she said, pointing to the women, whose eyes +were wide with terror. + +"Kill me?" she went on. "You are hardly reasonable. Kill me at the +moment when you can reap the fruits of the murder of...." + +"Did--did he suffer?" I asked suddenly, trembling. + +"Very little. I told you that you used the hammer as if you had done +nothing else all your life." + +"Like little Kaine," I murmured. + +She smiled in surprise. + +"Oh, you know that story.... Yes, like little Kaine. But at least +Kaine was sensible. You ... I do not understand." + +"I do not understand myself, very well." + +She looked at me with amused curiosity. + +"Antinea," I said. + +"What is it?" + +"I did what you told me to. May I in turn ask one favor, ask you one +question?" + +"What is it?" + +"It was dark, was it not, in the room where _he_ was?" + +"Very dark. I had to lead you to the bed where he lay asleep." + +"He _was_ asleep, you are sure?" + +"I said so." + +"He--did not die instantly, did he?" + +"No. I know exactly when he died; two minutes after you struck him and +fled with a shriek." + +"Then surely _he_ could not have known?" + +"Known what?" + +"That it was I who--who held the hammer." + +"He might not have known it, indeed," Antinea said. "But he did know." + +"How?" + +"He did know ... because I told him," she said, staring at me with +magnificent audacity. + +"And," I murmured, "he--he believed it?" + +"With the help of my explanation, he recognized your shriek. If he had +not realized that you were his murderer, the affair would not have +interested me," she finished with a scornful little smile. + +Four steps, I said, separated me from Antinea. I sprang forward. But, +before I reached her, I was struck to the floor. + +King Hiram had leapt at my throat. + +At the same moment I heard the calm, haughty voice of Antinea: + +"Call the men," she commanded. + +A second later I was released from the leopard's clutch. The six white +Tuareg had surrounded me and were trying to bind me. + +I am fairly strong and quick. I was on my feet in a second. One of my +enemies lay on the floor, ten feet away, felled by a well-placed blow +on the jaw. Another was gasping under my knee. That was the last time +I saw Antinea. She stood erect, both hands resting on her ebony +scepter, watching the struggle with a smile of contemptuous interest. + +Suddenly I gave a loud cry and loosed the hold I had on my victim. A +cracking in my left arm: one of the Tuareg had seized it and twisted +until my shoulder was dislocated. + +When I completely lost consciousness, I was being carried down the +corridor by two white phantoms, so bound that I could not move a +muscle. + + + + +XVIII + +THE FIRE-FLIES + + +Through the great open window, waves of pale moonlight surged into my +room. + +A slender white figure was standing beside the bed where I lay. + +"You, Tanit-Zerga!" I murmured. She laid a finger on her lips. + +"Sh! Yes, it is I." + +I tried to raise myself up on the bed. A terrible pain seized my +shoulder. The events of the afternoon came back to my poor harassed +mind. + +"Oh, little one, if you knew!" + +"I know," she said. + +I was weaker than a baby. After the overstrain of the day had come a +fit of utter nervous depression. A lump rose in my throat, choking me. + +"If you knew, if you only knew!... Take me away, little one. Get me +away from here." + +"Not so loud," she whispered. "There is a white Targa on guard at the +door." + +"Take me away; save me," I repeated. + +"That is what I came for," she said simply. + +I looked at her. She no longer was wearing her beautiful red silk +tunic. A plain white _haik_ was wrapped about her; and she had drawn +one corner of it over her head. + +"I want to go away, too," she said in a smothered voice. + +"For a long time, I have wanted to go away. I want to see Gao, the +village on the bank of the river, and the blue gum trees, and the +green water. + +"Ever since I came here, I have wanted to get away," she repeated, +"but I am too little to go alone into the great Sahara. I never dared +speak to the others who came here before you. They all thought only of +_her_.... But you, you wanted to kill her." + +I gave a low moan. + +"You are suffering," she said. "They broke your arm." + +"Dislocated it anyhow." + +"Let me see." + +With infinite gentleness, she passed her smooth little hands over my +shoulder. + +"You tell me that there is a white Targa on guard before my door, +Tanit-Zerga," I said. "Then how did you get in?" + +"That way," she said, pointing to the window. A dark perpendicular +line halved its blue opening. + +Tanit-Zerga went to the window. I saw her standing erect on the sill. +A knife shone in her hands. She cut the rope at the top of the +opening. It slipped down to the stone with a dry sound. + +She came back to me. + +"How can we escape?" I asked. + +"That way," she repeated, and she pointed again at the window. + +I leaned out. My feverish gaze fell upon the shadowy depths, searching +for those invisible rocks, the rocks upon which little Kaine had +dashed himself. + +"That way!" I exclaimed, shuddering. "Why, it is two hundred feet from +here to the ground." + +"The rope is two hundred and fifty," she replied. "It is a good strong +rope which I stole in the oasis; they used it in felling trees. It is +quite new." + +"Climb down that way, Tanit-Zerga! With my shoulder!" + +"I will let you down," she said firmly. "Feel how strong my arms are. +Not that I shall rest your weight on them. But see, on each side of +the window is a marble column. By twisting the rope around one of +them, I can let you slip down and scarcely feel your weight. + +"And look," she continued, "I have made a big knot every ten feet. I +can stop the rope with them, every now and then, if I want to rest." + +"And you?" I asked. + +"When you are down, I shall tie the rope to one of the columns and +follow. There are the knots on which to rest if the rope cuts my hands +too much. But don't be afraid: I am very agile. At Gao, when I was +just a child, I used to climb almost as high as this in the gum trees +to take the little toucans out of their nests. It is even easier to +climb down." + +"And when we are down, how will we get out? Do you know the way +through the barriers?" + +"No one knows the way through the barriers," she said, "except +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, and perhaps Antinea." + +"Then?" + +"There are the camels of Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, those which he uses on +his forays. I untethered the strongest one and led him out, just below +us, and gave him lots of hay so that he will not make a sound and will +be well fed when we start." + +"But...." I still protested. + +She stamped her foot. + +"But what? Stay if you wish, if you are afraid. I am going. I want to +see Gao once again, Gao with its blue gum-trees and its green water." + +I felt myself blushing. + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga. I would rather die of thirst in the midst of +the desert than stay here. Let us start." + +"Tut!" she said. "Not yet." + +She showed me that the dizzy descent was in brilliant moonlight. + +"Not yet. We must wait. They would see us. In an hour, the moon will +have circled behind the mountain. That will be the time." + +She sat silent, her _haik_ wrapped completely about her dark little +figure. Was she praying? Perhaps. + +Suddenly I no longer saw her. Darkness had crept in the window. The +moon had turned. + +Tanit-Zerga's hand was on my arm. She drew me toward the abyss. I +tried not to tremble. + +Everything below us was in shadow. In a low, firm voice, Tanit-Zerga +began to speak: + +"Everything is ready. I have twisted the rope about the pillar. Here +is the slip-knot. Put it under your arms. Take this cushion. Keep it +pressed against your hurt shoulder.... A leather cushion.... It is +tightly stuffed. Keep face to the wall. It will protect you against +the bumping and scraping." + +I was now master of myself, very calm. I sat down on the sill of the +window, my feet in the void. A breath of cool air from the peaks +refreshed me. + +I felt little Tanit-Zerga's hand in my vest pocket. + +"Here is a box. I must know when you are down, so I can follow. You +will open the box. There are fire-flies in it; I shall see them and +follow you." + +She held my hand a moment. + +"Now go," she murmured. + +I went. + +I remember only one thing about that descent: I was overcome with +vexation when the rope stopped and I found myself, feet dangling, +against the perfectly smooth wall. + +"What is the little fool waiting for?" I said to myself. "I have been +hung here for a quarter of an hour. Ah ... at last! Oh, here I am +stopped again." Once or twice I thought I was reaching the ground, but +it was only a projection from the rock. I had to give a quick shove +with my foot.... Then, suddenly, I found myself seated on the ground. +I stretched out my hands. Bushes.... A thorn pricked my finger. I was +down. + +Immediately I began to get nervous again. + +I pulled out the cushion and slipped off the noose. With my good hand, +I pulled the rope, holding it out five or six feet from the face of +the mountain, and put my foot on it. + +Then I took the little cardboard box from my pocket and opened it. + +One after the other, three little luminous circles rose in the inky +night. I saw them rise higher and higher against the rocky wall. Their +pale rose aureols gleamed faintly. Then, one by one, they turned, +disappeared. + +"You are tired, Sidi Lieutenant. Let me hold the rope." + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh rose up at my side. + +I looked at his tall black silhouette. I shuddered, but I did not let +go of the rope on which I began to feel distant jerks. + +"Give it to me," he repeated with authority. + +And he took it from my hands. + +I don't know what possessed me then. I was standing beside that great +dark phantom. And I ask you, what could I, with a dislocated +shoulder, do against that man whose agile strength I already knew? +What was there to do? I saw him buttressed against the wall, holding +the rope with both hands, with both feet, with all his body, much +better than I had been able to do. + +A rustling above our heads. A little shadowy form. + +"There," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, seizing the little shadow in his +powerful arms and placing her on the ground, while the rope, let +slack, slapped back against the rock. + +Tanit-Zerga recognized the Targa and groaned. + +He put his hand roughly over her mouth. + +"Shut up, camel thief, wretched little fly." + +He seized her arm. Then he turned to me. + +"Come," he said in an imperious tone. + +I obeyed. During our short walk, I heard Tanit-Zerga's teeth +chattering with terror. + +We reached a little cave. + +"Go in," said the Targa. + +He lighted a torch. The red light showed a superb mehari peacefully +chewing his cud. + +"The little one is not stupid," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, pointing to +the animal. "She knows enough to pick out the best and the strongest. +But she is rattle-brained." + +He held the torch nearer the camel. + +"She is rattle-brained," he continued. "She only saddled him. No +water, no food. At this hour, three days from now, all three of you +would have been dead on the road, and on what a road!" + +Tanit-Zerga's teeth no longer chattered. She was looking at the Targa +with a mixture of terror and hope. + +"Come here, Sidi Lieutenant," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, "so that I can +explain to you." + +When I was beside him, he said: + +"On each side there is a skin of water. Make that water last as long +as possible, for you are going to cross a terrible country. It may be +that you will not find a well for three hundred miles. + +"There," he went on, "in the saddle bags, are cans of preserved meat. +Not many, for water is much more precious. Here also is a carbine, +your carbine, sidi. Try not to use it except to shoot antelopes. And +there is this." + +He spread out a roll of paper. I saw his inscrutible face bent over +it; his eyes were smiling; he looked at me. + +"Once out of the enclosures, what way did you plan to go?" he asked. + +"Toward Ideles, to retake the route where you met the Captain and me," +I said. + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh shook his head. + +"I thought as much," he murmured. + +Then he added coldly: + +"Before sunset to-morrow, you and the little one would have been +caught and massacred." + +"Toward the north is Ahaggar," he continued, "and all Ahaggar is under +the control of Antinea. You must go south." + +"Then we shall go south." + +"By what route?" + +"Why, by Silet and Timissao." + +The Targa again shook his head. + +"They will look for you on that road also," he said. "It is a good +road, the road with the wells. They know that you are familiar with +it. The Tuareg would not fail to wait at the wells." + +"Well, then?" + +"Well," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, "you must not rejoin the road from +Timissao to Timbuctoo until you are four hundred miles from here +toward Iferouane, or better still, at the spring of Telemsi. That is +the boundary between the Tuareg of Ahaggar and the Awellimiden +Tuareg." + +The little voice of Tanit-Zerga broke in: + +"It was the Awellimiden Tuareg who massacred my people and carried me +into slavery. I do not want to pass through the country of the +Awellimiden." + +"Be still, miserable little fly," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh. + +Then addressing me, he continued: + +"I have said what I have said. The little one is not wrong. The +Awellimiden are a savage people. But they are afraid of the French. +Many of them trade with the stations north of the Niger. On the other +hand, they are at war with the people of Ahaggar, who will not follow +you into their country. What I have said, is said. You must rejoin +the Timbuctoo road near where it enters the borders of the +Awellimiden. Their country is wooded and rich in springs. If you reach +the springs at Telemsi, you will finish your journey beneath a canopy +of blossoming mimosa. On the other hand, the road from here to Telemsi +is shorter than by way of Timissao. It is quite straight." + +"Yes, it is direct," I said, "but, in following it, you have to cross +the Tanezruft." + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh waved his hand impatiently. + +"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh knows that," he said. "He knows what the Tanezruft +is. He who has traveled over all the Sahara knows that he would +shudder at crossing the Tanezruft and the Tassili from the south. He +knows that the camels that wander into that country either die or +become wild, for no one will risk his life to go look for them. It is +the terror that hangs over that region that may save you. For you have +to choose: you must run the risk of dying of thirst on the tracks of +the Tanezruft or have your throat cut along some other route. + +"You can stay here," he added. + +"My choice is made, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I announced. + +"Good!" he replied, again opening out the roll of paper. "This trail +begins at the second barrier of earth, to which I will lead you. It +ends at Iferouane. I have marked the wells, but do not trust to them +too much, for many of them are dry. Be careful not to stray from the +route. If you lose it, it is death.... Now mount the camel with the +little one. Two make less noise than four." + +We went a long way in silence. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh walked ahead and his +camel followed meekly. We crossed, first, a dark passage, then, a deep +gorge, then another passage.... The entrance to each was hidden by a +thick tangle of rocks and briars. + +Suddenly a burning breath touched our faces. A dull reddish light +filtered in through the end of the passage. The desert lay before us. + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had stopped. + +"Get down," he said. + +A spring gurgled out of the rock. The Targa went to it and filled a +copper cup with the water. + +"Drink," he said, holding it out to each of us in turn. We obeyed. + +"Drink again," he ordered. "You will save just so much of the contents +of your water skins. Now try not to be thirsty before sunset." + +He looked over the saddle girths. + +"That's all right," he murmured. "Now go. In two hours the dawn will +be here. You must be out of sight." + +I was filled with emotion at this last moment; I went to the Targa and +took his hand. + +"Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," I asked in a low voice, "why are you doing +this?" + +He stepped back and I saw his dark eyes gleam. + +"Why?" he said. + +"Yes, why?" + +He replied with dignity: + +"The Prophet permits every just man, once in his lifetime, to let pity +take the place of duty. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh is turning this permission +to the advantage of one who saved his life." + +"And you are not afraid," I asked, "that I will disclose the secret of +Antinea if I return among Frenchmen?" He shook his head. + +"I am not afraid of that," he said, and his voice was full of irony. +"It is not to your interest that Frenchmen should know how the Captain +met his death." + +I was horrified at this logical reply. + +"Perhaps I am doing wrong," the Targa went on, "in not killing the +little one.... But she loves you. She will not talk. Now go. Day is +coming." + +I tried to press the hand of this strange rescuer, but he again drew +back. + +"Do not thank me. What I am doing, I do to acquire merit in the eyes +of God. You may be sure that I shall never do it again neither for you +nor for anyone else." + +And, as I made a gesture to reassure him on that point, "Do not +protest," he said in a tone the mockery of which still sounds in my +ears. "Do not protest. What I am doing is of value to me, but not to +you." + +I looked at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Not to you, Sidi Lieutenant, not to you," his grave voice continued. +"For you will come back; and when that day comes, do not count on the +help of Cegheir-ben-Cheikh." + +"I will come back?" I asked, shuddering. + +"You will come back," the Targa replied. + +He was standing erect, a black statue against the wall of gray rock. + +"You will come back," he repeated with emphasis. "You are fleeing now, +but you are mistaken if you think that you will look at the world with +the same eyes as before. Henceforth, one idea, will follow you +everywhere you go; and in one year, five, perhaps ten years, you will +pass again through the corridor through which you have just come." + +"Be still, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh," said the trembling voice of +Tanit-Zerga. + +"Be still yourself, miserable little fly," said Cegheir-ben-Cheikh. + +He sneered. + +"The little one is afraid because she knows that I tell the truth. She +knows the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti." + +"Lieutenant Ghiberti?" I said, the sweat standing out on my forehead. + +"He was an Italian officer whom I met between Rhat and Rhadames eight +years ago. He did not believe that love of Antinea could make him +forget all else that life contained. He tried to escape, and he +succeeded. I do not know how, for I did not help him. He went back to +his country. But hear what happened: two years later, to the very day, +when I was leaving the look-out, I discovered a miserable tattered +creature, half dead from hunger and fatigue, searching in vain for the +entrance to the northern barrier. It was Lieutenant Ghiberti, come +back. He fills niche Number 39 in the red marble hall." + +The Targa smiled slightly. + +"That is the story of Lieutenant Ghiberti which you wished to hear. +But enough of this. Mount your camel." + +I obeyed without saying a word. Tanit-Zerga, seated behind me, put +her little arms around me. Cegheir-ben-Cheikh was still holding the +bridle. + +"One word more," he said, pointing to a black spot against the violet +sky of the southern horizon. "You see the _gour_ there; that is your +way. It is eighteen miles from here. You should reach it by sunrise. +Then consult your map. The next point is marked. If you do not stray +from the line, you should be at the springs of Telemsi in eight days." + +The camel's neck was stretched toward the dark wind coming from the +south. + +The Targa released the bridle with a sweep of his hand. + +"Now go." + +"Thank you," I called to him, turning back in the saddle. "Thank you, +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh, and farewell." + +I heard his voice replying in the distance: + +"_Au revoir_, Lieutenant de Saint Avit." + + + + +XIX + +THE TANEZRUFT + + +During the first hour of our flight, the great mehari of +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh carried us at a mad pace. We covered at least five +leagues. With fixed eyes, I guided the beast toward the _gour_ which +the Targa had pointed out, its ridge becoming higher and higher +against the paling sky. + +The speed caused a little breeze to whistle in our ears. Great tufts +of _retem_, like fleshless skeletons, were tossed to right and left. + +I heard the voice of Tanit-Zerga whispering: + +"Stop the camel." + +At first I did not understand. + +"Stop him," she repeated. + +Her hand pulled sharply at my right arm. + +I obeyed. The camel slackened his pace with very bad grace. + +"Listen," she said. + +At first I heard nothing. Then a very slight noise, a dry rustling +behind us. + +"Stop the camel," Tanit-Zerga commanded. "It is not worth while to +make him kneel." + +A little gray creature bounded on the camel. The mehari set out again +at his best speed. + +"Let him go," said Tanit-Zerga. "Gale has jumped on." + +I felt a tuft of bristly hair under my arm. The mongoose had followed +our footsteps and rejoined us. I heard the quick panting of the brave +little creature becoming gradually slower and slower. + +"I am happy," murmured Tanit-Zerga. + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had not been mistaken. We reached the _gour_ as the +sun rose. I looked back. The Atakor was nothing more than a monstrous +chaos amid the night mists which trailed the dawn. It was no longer +possible to pick out from among the nameless peaks, the one on which +Antinea was still weaving her passionate plots. + +You know what the Tanezruft is, the "plain of plains," abandoned, +uninhabitable, the country of hunger and thirst. We were then starting +on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the +south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works +under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without +vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast." + +Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this +rocky desert. Oh, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh did not exaggerate in saying that +no one would dream of following us into that country. + +Great patches of oblivion still refused to clear away. Memories chased +each other incoherently about my head. A sentence came back to me +textually: "It seemed to Dick that he had never, since the beginning +of original darkness, done anything at all save jolt through the air." +I gave a little laugh. "In the last few hours," I thought, "I have +been heaping up literary situations. A while ago, a hundred feet above +the ground, I was Fabrice of _La Chartreuse de Parme_ beside his +Italian dungeon. Now, here on my camel, I am Dick of _The Light That +Failed_, crossing the desert to meet his companions in arms." I +chuckled again; then shuddered. I thought of the preceding night, of +the Orestes of _Andromaque_ who agreed to sacrifice Pyrrhus. A +literary situation indeed.... + +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had reckoned eight days to get to the wooded +country of the Awellimiden, forerunners of the grassy steppes of the +Soudan. He knew well the worth of his beast. Tanit-Zerga had suddenly +given him a name, _El Mellen_, the white one, for the magnificent +mehari had an almost spotless coat. Once he went two days without +eating, merely picking up here and there a branch of an acacia tree +whose hideous white spines, four inches long, filled me with fear for +our friend's oesophagus. The wells marked out by Cegheir-ben-Cheikh +were indeed at the indicated spots, but we found nothing in them but a +burning yellow mud. It was enough for the camel, enough so that at the +end of the fifth day, thanks to prodigious self-control, we had used +up only one of our two water skins. Then we believed ourselves safe. + +Near one of these muddy puddles, I succeeded that day in shooting down +a little straight-horned desert gazelle. Tanit-Zerga skinned the beast +and we regaled ourselves with a delicious haunch. Meantime, little +Gale, who never ceased prying about the cracks in the rocks during our +mid-day halts in the heat, discovered an _ourane_, a sand crocodile, +five feet long, and made short work of breaking his neck. She ate so +much she could not budge. It cost us a pint of water to help her +digestion. We gave it with good grace, for we were happy. Tanit-Zerga +did not say so, but her joy at knowing that I was thinking no more of +the woman in the gold diadem and the emeralds was apparent. And +really, during those days, I hardly thought of her. I thought only of +the torrid heat to be avoided, of the water skins which, if you wished +to drink fresh water, had to be left for an hour in a cleft in the +rocks; of the intense joy which seized you when you raised to your +lips a leather goblet brimming with that life-saving water.... I can +say this with authority, with good authority, indeed; passion, +spiritual or physical, is a thing for those who have eaten and drunk +and rested. + +It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The frightful heat was +slackening. We had left a kind of rocky crevice where we had had a +little nap. Seated on a huge rock, we were watching the reddening +west. + +I spread out the roll of paper on which Cegheir-ben-Cheikh had marked +the stages of our journey as far as the road from the Soudan. I +realized again with joy that his itinerary was exact and that I had +followed it scrupulously. + +"The evening of the day after to-morrow," I said, "we shall be setting +out on the stage which will take us, by the next dawn, to the waters +at Telemsi. Once there, we shall not have to worry any more about +water." + +Tanit-Zerga's eyes danced in her thin face. + +"And Gao?" she asked. + +"We will be only a week from the Niger. And Cegheir-ben-Cheikh said +that at Telemsi, one reached a road overhung with mimosa." + +"I know the mimosa," she said. "They are the little yellow balls that +melt in your hand. But I like the caper flowers better. You will come +with me to Gao. My father, Sonni-Azkia, was killed, as I told you, by +the Awellimiden. But my people must have rebuilt the villages. They +are used to that. You will see how you will be received." + +"I will go, Tanit-Zerga, I promise you. But you also, you must promise +me...." + +"What? Oh, I guess. You must take me for a little fool if you believe +me capable of speaking of things which might make trouble for my +friend." + +She looked at me as she spoke. Privation and great fatigue had +chiselled the brown face where her great eyes shone.... Since then, I +have had time to assemble the maps and compasses, and to fix forever +the spot where, for the first time, I understood the beauty of +Tanit-Zerga's eyes. + +There was a deep silence between us. It was she who broke it. + +"Night is coming. We must eat so as to leave as soon as possible." + +She stood up and went toward the rocks. + +Almost immediately, I heard her calling in an anguished voice that +sent a chill through me. + +"Come! Oh, come see!" + +With a bound, I was at her side. + +"The camel," she murmured. "The camel!" + +I looked, and a deadly shudder seized me. + +Stretched out at full length, on the other side of the rocks, his pale +flanks knotted up by convulsive spasms, _El Mellen_ lay in anguish. + +I need not say that we rushed to him in feverish haste. Of what _El +Mellen_ was dying, I did not know, I never have known. All the mehara +are that way. They are at once the most enduring and the most delicate +of beasts. They will travel for six months across the most frightful +deserts, with little food, without water, and seem only the better for +it. Then, one day when nothing is the matter, they stretch out and +give you the slip with disconcerting ease. + +When Tanit-Zerga and I saw that there was nothing more to do, we stood +there without a word, watching his slackening spasms. When he breathed +his last, we felt that our life, as well as his, had gone. + +It was Tanit-Zerga who spoke first. + +"How far are we from the Soudan road?" she asked. + +"We are a hundred and twenty miles from the springs of Telemsi," I +replied. "We could make thirty miles by going toward Iferouane; but +the wells are not marked on that route." + +"Then we must walk toward the springs of Telemsi," she said. "A +hundred and twenty miles, that makes seven days?" + +"Seven days at the least, Tanit-Zerga." + +"How far is it to the first well?" + +"Thirty-five miles." + +The little girl's face contracted somewhat. But she braced up quickly. + +"We must set out at once." + +"Set out on foot, Tanit-Zerga!" + +She stamped her foot. I marveled to see her so strong. + +"We must go," she repeated. "We are going to eat and drink and make +Gale eat and drink, for we cannot carry all the tins, and the water +skin is so heavy that we should not get three miles if we tried to +carry it. We will put a little water in one of the tins after emptying +it through a little hole. That will be enough for to-night's stage, +which will be eighteen miles without water. To-morrow we will set out +for another eighteen miles and we will reach the wells marked on the +paper by Cegheir-ben-Cheikh." + +"Oh," I murmured sadly, "if my shoulder were only not this way, I +could carry the water skin." + +"It is as it is," said Tanit-Zerga. + +"You will take your carbine and two tins of meat. I shall take two +more and the one filled with water. Come. We must leave in an hour if +we wish to cover the eighteen miles. You know that when the sun is up, +the rocks are so hot we cannot walk." + +I leave you to imagine in what sad silence we passed that hour which +we had begun so happily and confidently. Without the little girl, I +believe I should have seated myself upon a rock and waited. Gale only +was happy. + +"We must not let her eat too much," said Tanit-Zerga. "She would not +be able to follow us. And to-morrow she must work. If she catches +another _ourane_, it will be for us." + + +You have walked in the desert. You know how terrible the first hours +of the night are. When the moon comes up, huge and yellow, a sharp +dust seems to rise in suffocating clouds. You move your jaws +mechanically as if to crush the dust that finds its way into your +throat like fire. Then usually a kind of lassitude, of drowsiness, +follows. You walk without thinking. You forget where you are walking. +You remember only when you stumble. Of course you stumble often. But +anyway it is bearable. "The night is ending," you say, "and with it +the march. All in all, I am less tired than at the beginning." The +night ends, but then comes the most terrible hour of all. You are +perishing of thirst and shaking with cold. All the fatigue comes back +at once. The horrible breeze which precedes the dawn is no comfort. +Quite the contrary. Every time you stumble, you say, "The next misstep +will be the last." + +That is what people feel and say even when they know that in a few +hours they will have a good rest with food and water. + +I was suffering terribly. Every step jolted my poor shoulder. At one +time, I wanted to stop, to sit down. Then I looked at Tanit-Zerga. She +was walking ahead with her eyes almost closed. Her expression was an +indefinable one of mingled suffering and determination. I closed my +own eyes and went on. + +Such was the first stage. At dawn we stopped in a hollow in the rocks. +Soon the heat forced us to rise to seek a deeper one. Tanit-Zerga did +not eat. Instead, she swallowed a little of her half can of water. She +lay drowsy all day. Gale ran about our rock giving plaintive little +cries. + +I am not going to tell you about the second march. It was more +horrible than anything you can imagine. I suffered all that it is +humanly possible to suffer in the desert. But already I began to +observe with infinite pity that my man's strength was outlasting the +nervous force of my little companion. The poor child walked on without +saying a word, chewing feebly one corner of her _haik_ which she had +drawn over her face. Gale followed. + +The well toward which we were dragging ourselves was indicated on +Cegheir-ben-Cheikh's paper by the one word _Tissaririn. Tissaririn_ is +the plural of _Tissarirt_ and means "two isolated trees." + +Day was dawning when finally I saw the two trees, two gum trees. +Hardly a league separated us from them. I gave a cry of joy. + +"Courage, Tanit-Zerga, there is the well." + +She drew her veil aside and I saw the poor anguished little face. + +"So much the better," she murmured, "because otherwise...." + +She could not even finish the sentence. + +We finished the last half mile almost at a run. We already saw the +hole, the opening of the well. + +Finally we reached it. + +It was empty. + +It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the +suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become +partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to +you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history +composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign +of Marengo." Obstinately I repeated to myself, "I have already said +that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's +charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only +twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces." + +I kept on repeating: + +"Twelve pieces." + +Then I fell into a sort of coma. + +I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I +opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which +burnt so. + +"Get up," she said. "We must go on." + +"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. +It is noon." + +"We must go on," she repeated. + +Then I saw that she was delirious. + +She was standing erect. Her _haik_ had fallen to the ground and little +Gale, rolled up in a ball, was asleep on it. + +Bareheaded, indifferent to the frightful sunlight, she kept repeating: + +"We must go on." + +A little sense came back to me. + +"Cover your head, Tanit-Zerga, cover your head." + +"Come," she repeated. "Let's go. Gao is over there, not far away. I +can feel it. I want to see Gao again." + +I made her sit down beside me in the shadow of a rock. I realized that +all strength had left her. The wave of pity that swept over me, +brought back my senses. + +"Gao is just over there, isn't it?" she asked. + +Her gleaming eyes became imploring. + +"Yes, dear little girl. Gao is there. But for God's sake lie down. The +sun is fearful." + +"Oh, Gao, Gao!" she repeated. "I know very well that I shall see Gao +again." + +She sat up. Her fiery little hands gripped mine. + +"Listen. I must tell you so you can understand how I know I shall see +Gao again." + +"Tanit-Zerga, be quiet, my little girl, be quiet." + +"No, I must tell you. A long time ago, on the bank of the river where +there is water, at Gao, where my father was a prince, there was.... +Well, one day, one feast day, there came from the interior of the +country an old magician, dressed in skins and feathers, with a mask +and a pointed head-dress, with castanets, and two serpents in a bag. +On the village square, where all our people formed in a circle, he +danced the _boussadilla_. I was in the first row, and because I had a +necklace of pink tourmaline, he quickly saw that I was the daughter of +a chief. So he spoke to me of the past, of the great Mandingue Empire +over which my grandfathers had ruled, of our enemies, the fierce +Kountas, of everything, and finally he said: + +"'Have no fear, little girl.' + +"Then he said again, 'Do not be afraid. Evil days may be in store for +you, but what does that matter? For one day you will see Gao gleaming +on the horizon, no longer a servile Gao reduced to the rank of a +little Negro town, but the splendid Gao of other days, the great +capital of the country of the blacks, Gao reborn, with its mosque of +seven towers and fourteen cupolas of turquoise, with its houses with +cool courts, its fountains, its watered gardens, all blooming with +great red and white flowers.... That will be for you the hour of +deliverance and of royalty.'" + +Tanit-Zerga was standing up. All about us, on our heads, the sun +blazed on the _hamada_, burning it white. + +Suddenly the child stretched out her arms. She gave a terrible cry. + +"Gao! There is Gao!" + +I looked at her. + +"Gao," she repeated. "Oh, I know it well! There are the trees and the +fountains, the cupolas and the towers, the palm trees, the great red +and white flowers. Gao...." + +Indeed, along the shimmering horizon rose a fantastic city with mighty +buildings that towered, tier on tier, until they formed a rainbow. +Wide-eyed, we stood and watched the terrible mirage quiver feverishly +before us. + +"Gao!" I cried. "Gao!" + +And almost immediately I uttered another cry, of sorrow and of horror. +Tanit-Zerga's little hand relaxed in mine. I had just time to catch +the child in my arms and hear her murmur as in a whisper: + +"And then that will be the day of deliverance. The day of deliverance +and of royalty." + +Several hours later I took the knife with which we had skinned the +desert gazelle and, in the sand at the foot of the rock where +Tanit-Zerga had given up her spirit, I made a little hollow where she +was to rest. + +When everything was ready, I wanted to look once more at that dear +little face. Courage failed me for a moment.... Then I quickly drew +the _haik_ over the brown face and laid the body of the child in the +hollow. + +I had reckoned without Gale. + +The eyes of the mongoose had not left me during the whole time that I +was about my sad duty. When she heard the first handfuls of sand fall +on the _haik_, she gave a sharp cry. I looked at her and saw her ready +to spring, her eyes daring fire. + +"Gale!" I implored; and I tried to stroke her. + +She bit my hand and then leapt into the grave and began to dig, +throwing the sand furiously aside. + +I tried three times to chase her away. I felt that I should never +finish my task and that, even if I did, Gale would stay there and +disinter the body. + +My carbine lay at my feet. A shot drew echoes from the immense empty +desert. A moment later, Gale also slept her last sleep, curled up, as +I so often had seen her, against the neck of her mistress. + +When the surface showed nothing more than a little mound of trampled +sand, I rose staggering and started off aimlessly into the desert, +toward the south. + + + + +XX + +THE CIRCLE IS COMPLETE + + +At the foot of the valley of the Mia, at the place where the jackal +had cried the night Saint-Avit told me he had killed Morhange, another +jackal, or perhaps the same one, howled again. + +Immediately I had a feeling that this night would see the +irremediable fulfilled. + +We were seated that evening, as before, on the poor veranda improvised +outside our dining-room. The floor was of plaster, the balustrade of +twisted branches; four posts supported a thatched roof. + +I have already said that from the veranda one could look far out over +the desert. As he finished speaking, Saint-Avit rose and stood leaning +his elbows on the railing. I followed him. + +"And then...." I said. + +He looked at me. + +"And then what? Surely you know what all the newspapers told--how, in +the country of the Awellimiden, I was found dying of hunger and thirst +by an expedition under the command of Captain Aymard, and taken to +Timbuctoo. I was delirious for a month afterward. I have never known +what I may have said during those spells of burning fever. You may be +sure the officers of the Timbuctoo Club did not feel it incumbent upon +them to tell me. When I told them of my adventures, as they are +related in the report of the Morhange--Saint-Avit Expedition, I could +see well enough from the cold politeness with which they received my +explanations, that the official version which I gave them differed at +certain points from the fragments which had escaped me in my delirium. + +"They did not press the matter. It remains understood that Captain +Morhange died from a sunstroke and that I buried him on the border of +the Tarhit watercourse, three marches from Timissao. Everybody can +detect that there are things missing in my story. Doubtless they guess +at some mysterious drama. But proofs are another matter. Because of +the impossibility of collecting them, they prefer to smother what +could only become a silly scandal. But now you know all the details as +well as I." + +"And--she?" I asked timidly. + +He smiled triumphantly. It was triumph at having led me to think no +longer of Morhange, or of his crime, the triumph of feeling that he +had succeeded in imbuing me with his own madness. + +"Yes," he said. "She! For six years I have learned nothing more about +her. But I see her, I talk with her. I am thinking now how I shall +reenter her presence. I shall throw myself at her feet and say simply, +'Forgive me. I rebelled against your law. I did not know. But now I +know; and you see that, like Lieutenant Ghiberti, I have come back.' + +"'Family, honor, country,' said old Le Mesge, 'you will forget all for +her.' Old Le Mesge is a stupid man, but he speaks from experience. He +knows, he who has seen broken before Antinea the wills of the fifty +ghosts in the red marble hall. + +"And now, will you, in your turn, ask me 'What is this woman?' Do I +know myself? And besides, what difference does it make? What does her +past and the mystery of her origin matter to me; what does it matter +whether she is the true descendant of the god of the sea and the +sublime Lagides or the bastard of a Polish drunkard and a harlot of +the Marbeuf quarter? + +"At the time when I was foolish enough to be jealous of Morhange, +these questions might have made some difference to the ridiculous +self-esteem that civilized people mix up with passion. But I have held +Antinea's body in my arms. I no longer wish to know any other, nor if +the fields are in blossom, nor what will become of the human +spirit.... + +"I do not wish to know. Or, rather, it is because I have too exact a +vision of that future, that I pretend to destroy myself in the only +destiny that is worth while: a nature unfathomed and virgin, a +mysterious love. + +"_A nature unfathomed and virgin_. I must explain myself. One winter +day, in a large city all streaked with the soot that falls from black +chimneys of factories and of those horrible houses in the suburbs, I +attended a funeral. + +"We followed the hearse in the mud. The church was new, damp and poor. +Aside from two or three people, relatives struck down by a dull +sorrow, everyone had just one idea: to find some pretext to get away. +Those who went as far as the cemetery were those who did not find an +excuse. I see the gray walls and the cypresses, those trees of sun and +shade, so beautiful in the country of southern France against the low +purple hills. I see the horrible undertaker's men in greasy jackets +and shiny top hats. I see.... No, I'll stop; it's too horrible. + +"Near the wall, in a remote plot, a grave had been dug in frightful +yellow pebbly clay. It was there that they left the dead man whose +name I no longer remember. + +"While they were lowering the casket, I looked at my hands, those +hands which in that strangely lighted country had pressed the hands of +Antinea. A great pity for my body seized me, a great fear of what +threatened it in these cities of mud. 'So,' I said to myself, 'it may +be that this body, this dear body, will come to such an end! No, no, +my body, precious above all other treasures, I swear to you that I +will spare you that ignominy; you shall not rot under a registered +number in the filth of a suburban cemetery. Your brothers in love, the +fifty knights of orichalch, await you, mute and grave, in the red +marble hall. I shall take you back to them.' + +"A _mysterious love_. Shame to him who retails the secrets of his +loves. The Sahara lays its impassable barrier about Antinea; that is +why the most unreasonable requirements of this woman are, in reality, +more modest and chaste than your marriage will be, with its vulgar +public show, the bans, the invitations, the announcements telling an +evil-minded and joking people that after such and such an hour, on +such and such a day, you will have the right to violate your little +tupenny virgin. + +"I think that is all I have to tell you. No, there is still one thing +more. I told you a while ago about the red marble hall. South of +Cherchell, to the west of the Mazafran river, on a hill which in the +early morning, emerges from the mists of the Mitidja, there is a +mysterious stone pyramid. The natives call it, 'The Tomb of the +Christian.' That is where the body of Antinea's ancestress, that +Cleopatra Selene, daughter of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, was laid to +rest. Though it is placed in the path of invasions, this tomb has kept +its treasure. No one has ever been able to discover the painted room +where the beautiful body reposes in a glass casket. All that the +ancestress has been able to do, the descendant will be able to surpass +in grim magnificence. In the center of the red marble hall, on the +rock whence comes the plaint of the gloomy fountain, a platform is +reserved. It is there, on an orichalch throne, with the Egyptian +head-dress and the golden serpent on her brow and the trident of +Neptune in her hand, that the marvelous woman I have told you about +will be ensconced on that day when the hundred and twenty niches, +hollowed out in a circle around her throne, shall each have received +its willing prey. + +"When I left Ahaggar, you remember that it was niche number 55 that +was to be mine. Since then, I have never stopped calculating and I +conclude that it is in number 80 or 85 that I shall repose. But any +calculations based upon so fragile a foundation as a woman's whim may +be erroneous. That is why I am getting more and more nervous. 'I must +hurry,' I tell myself. 'I must hurry.' + +"I must hurry," I repeated, as if I were in a dream. + +He raised his head with an indefinable expression of joy. His hand +trembled with happiness when he shook mine. + +"You will see," he repeated excitedly, "you will see." + +Ecstatically, he took me in his arms and held me there a long moment. + +An extraordinary happiness swept over both of us, while, alternately +laughing and crying like children, we kept repeating: + +"We must hurry. We must hurry." + +Suddenly there sprang up a slight breeze that made the tufts of thatch +in the roof rustle. The sky, pale lilac, grew paler still, and, +suddenly, a great yellow rent tore it in the east. Dawn broke over the +empty desert. From within the stockade came dull noises, a bugle call, +the rattle of chains. The post was waking up. + +For several seconds we stood there silent, our eyes fixed on the +southern route by which one reaches Temassinin, Eguere and Ahaggar. + +A rap on the dining-room door behind us made us start. + +"Come in," said Andre de Saint-Avit in a voice which had become +suddenly hard. + +The Quartermaster, Chatelain, stood before us. + +"What do you want of me at this hour?" Saint-Avit asked brusquely. + +The non-com stood at attention. + +"Excuse me, Captain. But a native was discovered near the post, last +night, by the patrol. He was not trying to hide. As soon as he had +been brought here, he asked to be led before the commanding officer. +It was midnight and I didn't want to disturb you." + +"Who is this native?" + +"A Targa, Captain." + +"A Targa? Go get him." + +Chatelain stepped aside. Escorted by one of our native soldiers, the +man stood behind him. + +They came out on the terrace. + +The new arrival, six feet tall, was indeed a Targa. The light of dawn +fell upon his blue-black cotton robes. One could see his great dark +eyes flashing. + +When he was opposite my companion, I saw a tremor, immediately +suppressed, run through both men. + +They looked at each other for an instant in silence. + +Then, bowing, and in a very calm voice, the Targa spoke: + +"Peace be with you, Lieutenant de Saint-Avit." + +In the same calm voice, Andre answered him: + +"Peace be with you, Cegheir-ben-Cheikh." + +[Transcriber's Notes: +1.In the original books, there were handwritten characters for the +Greek words used in the discussion of the Tifinar engravings; the +approximate Greek transliterations have been substituted. +2. Another inscription was hand-drawn in the book, and the center +symbol looks like a capital W, rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise. I +placed notes to that effect where the symbol appears.] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantida, by Pierre Benoit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIDA *** + +***** This file should be named 14301.txt or 14301.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/0/14301/ + +Produced by Elaine Walker, Ronald Holder and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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