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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf 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..8c9309f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66115 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66115) diff --git a/old/66115-0.txt b/old/66115-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ce16ed5..0000000 --- a/old/66115-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11200 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of His Excellency's English Governess, by -Sydney C. Grier - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: His Excellency's English Governess - -Author: Sydney C. Grier - -Release Date: August 23, 2021 [eBook #66115] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS EXCELLENCY'S ENGLISH -GOVERNESS *** - - - - - His Excellency’s English - Governess - - By - SYDNEY C. GRIER - - AUTHOR OF “A CROWNED QUEEN,” - “LIKE ANOTHER HELEN,” “THE - WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,” Etc. - - -(_Fourth in the Modern East series_) - - - BOSTON - L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - _MDCCCCII_ - - - - - COPYRIGHT. - - _Copyright, 1902_ - By L. C. Page & Company - (Incorporated) - - Published June, 1902 - - - - - CONTENTS. - - I. A GIRL GRADUATE - II. “THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT” - III. A MOST ADVANTAGEOUS OFFER - IV. THE SHINING EAST - V. A NEW EXPERIENCE - VI. A PERIOD OF PROBATION - VII. “IN INMOST BAGDAT” - VIII. A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE - IX. LITERATURE AND POLITICS - X. A CUP OF COFFEE - XI. A DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT - XII. IN SEARCH OF HEALTH - XIII. INSTRUCTION AND INTROSPECTION - XIV. A SPOKE IN HIS WHEEL - XV. AFTER ALL---- - XVI. A MURDEROUS INTENT - XVII. AN IDYLL, AND ITS ENDING - XVIII. GATHERING CLOUDS - XIX. “BETWIXT MY LOVE AND ME” - XX. INTERCEPTED LETTERS - XXI. CONFEDERATES - XXII. A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION - XXIII. THE END OF EVERYTHING - XXIV. PRISONERS - XXV. “THE VOICE OF ENGLAND IN THE EAST” - XXVI. A DREAD TRIBUNAL - XXVII. PRACTICAL JOKES - - - - - HIS EXCELLENCY’S ENGLISH - GOVERNESS - - CHAPTER I. - A GIRL GRADUATE. - -It was Presentation-day at the University of London. The date was -somewhere in the latter half of the present century,--not this year, -nor last year, nor the year before that, when you, dear reader, or -your brother or cousin, may have graced the scene in cap and gown--but -so long ago that the graduates and undergraduates of to-day were still -in the nursery taking practical lessons as to the value of tactual -perception, or forcing an undesired entrance into the realms of -knowledge by way of the spelling-book and the Latin Primer. The day -was a lovely one in May, and the spring sunshine poured in through the -high windows of the theatre on the Chancellor in his Court suit and -gold-embroidered gown, on the members of the Senate in their crimson -and scarlet robes, and on the reporters scribbling away for dear life -at their table. There was the usual throng of admiring friends and -relations in the gallery and the back seats, and the usual inner -semicircle of presentees, looking like a bed of gorgeous and not -always harmonious flowers, from the vivid colours of their gowns and -hoods. A modern observer would have noted only one point of marked -difference from a similar scene to-day, and this was the absence of -the serried ranks of lady graduates. There were only two or three -women to be presented, and they looked pale and nervous, but -dauntlessly resolved to do their duty to the end. In those days it was -an achievement to gain possession of a London degree, and these girls -felt that the eyes of England and of the world were upon them. They -were conscious also of furnishing the sensation of the day, for a -woman had obtained the prize for French in the B.A. Final, and the -second place in Honours for Mental and Moral Science, for the first -time on record, and the friends of female education were jubilant. -Miss Arbuthnot, the principal of the South Central High School, in -which Cecil Anstruther had received her education, looked fully two -inches taller than usual as she led her pupil up to the Chancellor’s -dais, and the little knot of friends and teachers in the gallery -applauded frantically, while even the men who had been ignominiously -left behind in the race were magnanimous enough to do their share of -clapping. The parliamentary representative of the University referred -especially to Miss Anstruther in his regulation speech, and the noble -Chancellor himself pressed her hand and congratulated her with even -more than his ordinary paternal suavity of manner. As for Cecil’s own -feelings, she was so much embarrassed by the cheering, the publicity, -and the difficulty of carrying her cap, her diploma, and her prize, -and finding a hand to give the Chancellor at the same time, that she -did not breathe freely until she was safely back in her seat, with her -companions in misfortune eagerly inspecting her new possessions. - -A little later, and the grand function was over. The Chancellor and -the members of the Senate had filed off solemnly, like the chorus of a -Greek play, the reporters had closed their note-books and decamped -with much less ceremony, and the theatre was deserted, save by a few -presentees who were displaying their medals and diplomas to impatient -friends. Cecil paused at the door on her way to the robing-room with -Miss Arbuthnot. - -“I’m quite sorry to say good-bye to the dear old place,” she said; “I -have been here for the Matriculation, the Intermediate, and the B.A., -and now again to-day, and I know the pattern of the ceiling and all -the mouldings on the walls by heart.” - -“I only wish you would come here again for the M.A. and the D.Lit.,” -said Miss Arbuthnot. “That is my one sorrow with regard to you, Cecil, -that you are ending your academical course at this point.” - -“But, you see, I have really no choice,” said Cecil. “The children at -home are getting older, and I must either teach them myself or earn -money to help with their education. And you know, Miss Arbuthnot, I do -so much dread going among strangers, and I want to stay at home if I -possibly can. If I could have got a post in the School, of course----” - -“That would not be good enough,” replied Miss Arbuthnot with decision. -“Public opinion has yet to be roused on the subject of High School -teachers’ salaries. No, Cecil, what I should like for you would be -something quite different. As for teaching your little brothers and -sisters, I believe it is a task at once beyond and beneath your -powers. You are much better fitted to instruct older children, and you -are not at all suited to cope with very naughty ones, such as I -understand them to be. I can’t prophesy success for you.” - -“But what could I do?” asked Cecil. - -“I think you should try for a post as finishing governess in some good -family, where you would be properly treated,” said Miss Arbuthnot. -“Abroad, perhaps; I believe the Russians treat their governesses very -well. You are not a specialist, Cecil--that is another thing I regret, -you would have gained the University scholarship for Mental and Moral -Science if you had been--but you are good all round. Well, we mustn’t -stay talking here. I will see you to Victoria, and then I must hurry -back to the School. Only remember, if you do not succeed with the -children, let me know. I am often asked to recommend thoroughly -first-class governesses, and I will do my best for you, dear child.” - -Miss Arbuthnot’s voice trembled a little as she concluded, for she had -grown very fond of her head pupil, and honestly believed that she -could have done anything she liked in the way of passing examinations. -It had been a great pleasure to the elder lady to have this ardent -young disciple always at hand, to sympathise with her plans and to -become imbued with her views, nor was Miss Arbuthnot at all unmindful -of the honour reflected on the School by the girl’s success. The cause -of female education in general, and the South Central High School in -particular, were the objects to which Miss Arbuthnot’s life was -devoted, and the cause gained no small lustre from the ovation Cecil -had received at the Presentation, and the comments which had been made -thereon in the various speeches, and which might be looked for from -the Press. - -The principal’s expectations in this respect were not disappointed. -The London dailies remarked on Cecil’s success in a style -half-flattering, half-contemptuous, and at greater or less length -according to their interest in the subject, and the country papers -took up the strain, and carried it on in their several ways. In -particular, the ‘Whitcliffe Argus,’ the chief organ of Cecil’s native -place, devoted nearly half a column to setting forth, rather late in -the day, in a dialect of journalese peculiarly its own, the honours -gained by the “daughter of our esteemed fellow-townsman the much -respected Vicar of St Barnabas’.” The paper was pounced upon, and the -paragraph read aloud in a stentorian voice by one of Cecil’s younger -brothers, a particularly rampant specimen of that troublesome race, -when the ‘Argus’ was delivered at St Barnabas’ Vicarage. No subject -had been further from Cecil’s mind as she sat at the head of the -dinner-table, with flushed cheeks and rather dishevelled hair, and a -worried look which contrasted sadly with the hopeful aspect she had -worn when she bade farewell to Miss Arbuthnot little more than a month -before. Mrs Anstruther was away on a visit, and to Cecil had fallen a -task sufficient to appal the stoutest heart, that of keeping in order -the seven small half-brothers and sisters who sat round the table, and -whom no one but their own genial, boisterous Irish mother had ever -succeeded in managing. - -The Anstruther children were the terror of Whitcliffe. Their mother -said that they had excellent hearts, and this was very possibly true, -but it was also painfully evident that they had no manners, and a very -small amount of conscience. Add to this the possession of tremendous -animal spirits, splendid lungs, and most inventive brains, and it will -be seen that the life of a conscientious elder sister, who held -pronounced views of her own on the subject of education, was not -likely to be an easy one among them. Of all those who tried to govern -them Cecil was perhaps the least successful, for she was gentle, -methodical, and somewhat old-maidish in her ways, and each of these -tendencies militated strongly against her. She got on very well with -Mrs Anstruther (indeed, no one who knew that stout, untidy little -lady, with her blue-grey eyes and her soft, drawling brogue, could do -otherwise), and loved her almost as much as if she had been her own -mother, but the children did not take to her. Even now, after a -morning spent in wild efforts to clear away the things they left -about, undo the mischief they had done, and efface generally the -traces of their baleful existence, she could not eat her dinner in -peace. Patsy was spilling his pudding on the carpet, Loey feeding the -cat from his plate, and when Cecil leaned across the table to rescue -Eily’s glass of water from imminent peril of destruction, Terry seized -the opportunity of pulling out all her hair-pins. And all this time -Fitz was roaring out the paragraph from the ‘Argus’ in his loudest -tones. - -“Fitzgerald!” came in a stern voice from the lower end of the table, -where sat Mr Anstruther, with a book propped up against the dish in -front of him; “don’t make that noise. Why don’t you keep the children -quiet, Cecil? My dear!” and Mr Anstruther’s eye-glasses went slowly -up, to be focussed on Cecil’s dishevelled tresses, “what have you been -doing to your hair? It is in a most disgraceful state. What is all -this row about?” - -“Why, daddy,” cried Loey, otherwise Owen, “it’s what we’ll do with -Cissie’s money we’re talking about.” - -“You will do nothing with it,” returned Mr Anstruther, severely, for -the point was rather a sore one with him. “Your sister will spend the -money as she likes, without consulting a set of little dunces like -you.” - -“Oh, papa, but I mean to do something for them,” cried Cecil. “I have -been so glad ever since I heard I had got the prize to think that I -should be able to help you with it. The money will pay the boys’ fees -for one term, or help with their books, at any rate.” - -“You are very good, my dear child, in wishing to be of use, but what -can fifteen pounds do towards educating four boys, who have not brains -enough among them all to get a ten-pound scholarship, nor steadiness -and sense of honour enough to go to and from the Grammar-School like -gentlemen? What with their school-fees, and the bills I have to pay -for the damage they do, it needs a millionaire to look after them.” - -And Mr Anstruther rose abruptly from his seat, said grace, and -departed to his study. It was a constant disappointment to him that -only his eldest daughter had inherited his own scholarly tastes, and -that his younger children, although dowered with their mother’s -splendid bodily health, had inherited also her distaste for steady -mental work. Sometimes the disparity made him a little unjust to -Cecil, as if his disappointment were her fault, and the sense of this -struck her to-day so keenly that, worn-out and discouraged, she pushed -back her chair from the table and burst into tears. The children stood -around in impotent alarm; then, their consciences no doubt pricking -them, one after another crept softly from the room. For a little while -Cecil sobbed hopelessly; then a sudden resolution came to her, and she -started up. Miss Arbuthnot’s words had returned to her memory, and she -saw that if she could not be useful with the children at home, she -might at any rate help to provide the money necessary to give them the -education they so greatly needed. With ferocious haste she twisted her -soft auburn hair into a rough knot, secured it by sticking in the pins -in handfuls, and dashed away the tears from her brown eyes, now -blurred and piteous with crying. Without giving herself time to -repent, she sat down at the writing-table in the window, and began to -write. The chair and table shook with her sobs as she did so, but she -scrambled through her letter as fast as she could, sealed and stamped -it, and then, snatching up her hat, rushed across the road to the -pillar-box with the important missive, determined not to trust any of -the boys. - -All this afternoon Cecil, to use Biblical language, “went softly in -the bitterness of her soul,” for the step she had just taken marked -the downfall of many hopes. Throughout her school career, which had -cost her father very little, owing to the number of prizes and -scholarships she had won, her aim had been to make use of her -knowledge in instructing her half-brothers and sisters. Recollections -of past failure in holiday-times had not deterred her from setting to -work again with enthusiasm, but after rather less than a month’s trial -she was compelled to admit that the result was unsatisfactory. She -knew that under ordinary circumstances she was an interesting teacher -and a good disciplinarian,--experience in teaching classes at the -South Central School had assured her of this,--and she had not -reckoned on the opposing influence which was to render all her efforts -nugatory. The children were the only subject on which Mrs Anstruther -and Cecil were gravely divided in opinion, but on this one point they -differed exceedingly. Mrs Anstruther insisted that Cecil was trying to -break the children’s spirits, and she made it her business to rescue -them from this untoward fate on every possible occasion. Derided by -her pupils and unsupported by their mother, her rules set aside, and -her punishments continually remitted, it is little wonder that Cecil -decided to give up the contest in despair. There seemed to be -something in her that aroused all the wickedness of which the children -were capable; and only this morning a final touch had been put to her -misery by a remark of her father’s, to the effect that he wished Cecil -would leave her brothers and sisters alone, for they were always far -worse with her than with any one else. That Mr Anstruther should say -this was the most unkindest cut of all, and Cecil felt that her last -support in the home was gone. - -The next morning, just as breakfast was over at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, -great excitement was caused among the children by the sight of a -telegraph-boy coming up to the house. Six of them met him at the door, -and conveyed the missive in triumph to Cecil, to whom it was -addressed, offering meanwhile various suggestions as to the nature of -the contents. It was with some difficulty that she succeeded in -rescuing the envelope untorn, and in acquainting herself with the -message. - - - “M. Arbuthnot to C. Anstruther. - - “Come to me at once for two or three days. Have heard of something for - you.” - - -Cecil read the words in astonishment, with all the children dancing -and yelling round her like wild Indians. They were still in the hall, -and Cecil was too much engrossed by the telegram to try to calm them, -until the study door opened, and her father’s tired face looked out. - -“Really, Cecil,” he began, “I think, when you know I am preparing my -sermon, you might----” But his voice was drowned by the children. - -“Daddy, Cissie’s got a telegram. We wouldn’t go to school until she -would tell us what it was. She’s going to London, isn’t she?” - -“What does all this mean, Cecil?” asked Mr Anstruther, wearily, and -his daughter put the telegram into his hand. - -“Well,” he said, when he had read it, “you have asked Miss Arbuthnot -to find you a situation, I suppose? After all, perhaps it is the best -thing you can do.” - -“And you must let me help with the boys then, papa,” said Cecil, -eagerly. “I think I am pretty sure to get a good salary, you know, and -I can take one of them, at any rate, off your hands.” - -“Very well, my dear. It is impossible not to feel grateful for such a -proposal. Patrick, leave off teasing that cat, and go to school with -your brothers. If you can get your things ready for the 11.55 train, -Cecil, I will walk down to the station with you.” - -Cecil dashed up-stairs, and spent the next hour in wild efforts to get -her box packed, which was a work of difficulty, with Eily, Norah, and -Geraldine standing around, advising, touching, criticising, meddling -in a way that nearly drove her mad. Happily Mrs Anstruther was to -return before lunch, and she therefore felt less compunction than she -would otherwise have done in leaving her flock to their own devices. -By dint of superhuman exertion she managed to be ready by the -appointed time, and kissed the children all round, admonished them not -to quarrel, rushed into the nursery to remind the nurse to put on -their clean pinafores before their mother’s return, and gave hasty -parting directions about lunch to the cook. Then there was a hurried -walk down to the station, in which she endeavoured vainly to keep up -with her father’s long strides, and a brief farewell on the platform. -Cecil shook hands with Mr Anstruther (he had an invincible objection -to being kissed in public, principally owing to the fact that his wife -and younger children were especially given to the practice), and he -put her into a ladies’ carriage just as the train was about to start. - -Leaning back in her place, Cecil spent her time during the journey in -speculations as to the situation found for her. Was she to be -principal of some newly-founded High School, where the extent and -freshness of her acquirements would counterbalance the defects of her -youth and comparative inexperience? Or was she to be governess in a -private family, possibly on the Continent, possibly in some stately -English home, where she would be treated with frigid courtesy, and -shunned and criticised as a “learned lady”? She sighed as she revolved -these possibilities in her mind, and wished once more that she might -have remained at home. But regrets were vain, the train was nearing -Victoria, and on the platform stood Miss Arbuthnot, to whom Mr -Anstruther had telegraphed from Whitcliffe that Cecil was on her way. - -“I am glad you have come at once, Cecil,” she said, as they left the -station in a cab, “for I can give you a rare treat for to-night. What -do you think of tickets for both of us for the Conversazione at -Burlington House, to meet all the great people?” - -“How splendid!” cried Cecil, with sparkling eyes. “And the situation, -Miss Arbuthnot?” - -“Oh--ah--the situation. Of course that is the chief thing, after all. -Well, you and I are to meet the lady and gentleman at Daridge’s Hotel -to-morrow, and lunch with them afterwards.” - -“Oh, then it is a private family?” asked Cecil. - -“Private? Oh, well--yes. Not a school at all.” - -Miss Arbuthnot seemed not to wish to say anything more, but presently -she began to question Cecil as to her dress for the evening, betraying -a solicitude as to her appearance which surprised the girl. - -“Of course, I ought to have told you to bring your best evening gown,” -she said, “but I never thought of it, and it would have been rather -awkward to mention it in a telegram. What have you? the black velvet -with your mother’s lace? It is rather old for you, but after all that -is no drawback. You see, Cecil,” smiling at her pupil’s puzzled face, -“we are all very proud of you. You have done the School great credit, -and I should not wonder if you were to find yourself a little bit of a -celebrity in a small way to-night. So you see why I want you to look -well, that you may uphold the honour of the South Central.” - - - - - CHAPTER II. - “THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT.” - -Miss Arbuthnot’s well-meant solicitude had the effect of making -Cecil very nervous as the evening approached, and at last she actually -entreated to be allowed to stay behind at the School and spend a quiet -hour or two with the governesses, instead of going to Burlington -House. But Miss Arbuthnot would not hear of this, and insisted on -supervising her dressing personally, almost hustling her into the -carriage at last. - -“Nonsense, my dear, nonsense!” she said, vigorously, when they were -fairly started. “You really must get rid of this foolish timidity, or -you will be fit for nothing. I should have been seriously displeased -if you had not come. Not only would it have been very rude, for it is -a great favour to get a ticket, but there are several people I want -you to see, a very old friend of mine for one. You have heard me speak -of Elma Wargrave?” - -“One of the pioneers?” asked Cecil. - -In Miss Arbuthnot’s circle the early workers in the cause of female -education were always designated by this respectful term. - -“Yes, I see you know whom I mean. She and I were great friends when we -were girls, and we had almost decided to start school-keeping -together. She was most enthusiastic about it, and used to talk of the -joy of devoting her whole life absolutely to the great work. But, -unfortunately, she went to stay with some relations, and while with -them she fell in with a young Scotch soldier, Sir Dugald Haigh. He was -ridiculously poor, for his father had spent everything he could lay -his hands on, and mortgaged the estates, so that Sir Dugald had -scarcely more than his Artillery pay upon which to support an empty -title and two people. But Elma married him and went out to India at -once, and she has travelled about with him ever since in all sorts of -outlandish places and horrible climates. I believe they have been very -happy, and Sir Dugald is high in the Service, and has lately been made -Consul-General and political agent at Baghdad, so I suppose they are -not pinched any longer now. I don’t grudge them their happiness, my -dear,” added Miss Arbuthnot, slowly, “but I have never been able to -help regretting that Elma should have given up such a work for the -sake of that very ordinary little man.” - -“I am quite anxious to see them,” said Cecil. “Is Sir Dugald in -England as well as Lady Haigh?” - -“No, she is here alone. Some trouble broke out in the country just as -they were starting, and Sir Dugald would not take his furlough. But -here we are. Now, my dear child, forget yourself, and think of the -people you will see.” - -In spite of this excellent advice, Cecil still felt very nervous when -they had laid aside their wraps and she was following Miss Arbuthnot’s -sweeping satin train up the steps and into the crowded and brightly -lighted rooms of the Academy. She did not know that she made a very -pretty picture herself, with her fresh colouring and coils of bright -hair set off by the black velvet dress, with its deep cuffs and -standing collar of old lace, but Miss Arbuthnot perceived this and -rejoiced to know it, not caring at all that her own plain, sensible -face, adorned with the inevitable _pince-nez_, formed an excellent -foil for Cecil’s girlish charms. - -At first Cecil wanted to stand aside in some quiet corner, and watch -the throng of noted people moving about, and learn all their names, -but Miss Arbuthnot was a celebrity herself, and was, moreover, a woman -of many acquaintances, who had all some kind or complimentary word for -her young companion, when they recognised her or heard who she was. -Still, it seemed to Cecil that her friend was watching anxiously for -some one who had not yet appeared, and that she was manifestly -relieved when a stout elderly lady, chiefly remarkable for the -possession of a very prominent set of teeth, made her way through the -crowd and joined them, greeting Miss Arbuthnot with effusion, and -turning an expansive smile on Cecil. - -“And this must be our young friend the lady graduate,” she said, -looking at her kindly. “You must introduce us, Marian. I should like a -talk with Miss Anstruther.” - -“Cecil,” said Miss Arbuthnot, rather nervously, “I want to introduce -you to Lady Haigh. We were speaking about her just now.” - -Cecil was nothing loth to make acquaintance with the lady who had -given up so much for the sake of her young Scotch soldier, and whose -defection Miss Arbuthnot still mourned so bitterly, and she acquiesced -at once when Lady Haigh suggested that they should retire to a quiet -palm-shaded seat among the statuary, and have a chat, while Miss -Arbuthnot was taken possession of by a distinguished cleric who had -also been one of the pioneers of the education movement. Lady Haigh -proved to be as kind as she looked, and showed herself very much -interested in Cecil’s career. She asked as many questions as though -she wanted to write her biography, and asked them, too, as if she were -really interested in the answers, and not asking merely for -politeness’ sake. Then she inquired all about the girl’s home -circumstances, and learned all that Cecil would tell her about Mr and -Mrs Anstruther and the rest of the family at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, -and then she changed the subject of the conversation abruptly, and -began to talk about her own doings in Baghdad. It seemed to be a -fairly pleasant life on the whole, and Lady Haigh showed herself by no -means desirous of underrating its attractions. - -“You see, my dear, although it is dreadfully decayed since the days of -the Khalifs and the ‘Arabian Nights,’ yet it is a very interesting -place still. The society is really not bad, for there are nearly -always travellers or officers of some sort passing through, and they -all come to the Residency. Then the assistant political agent comes up -sometimes from Basra, and of course there are clerks and secretaries, -but they are mostly Armenians or East Indians. There is generally a -gunboat in the river, too, and when it is lying off the Residency we -are really quite gay. Then there are the officials at the other -consulates, but socially speaking, and between you and me, they are -rather a dull set. But there are a few of the Jews and Armenians in -the place who are travelled and cultivated people, and quite friends -of ours. Then, of course, it is very interesting when you get to know -some of the Turkish ladies, and it is curious to study the mixture of -nationalities in such a place as Baghdad. I often say that it reminds -me of nothing so much as of Nuremberg or one of those German cities of -the Middle Ages, at the time of their annual fairs.” - -“I should love to see it,” said Cecil, drawing a long breath, “but I -shall never be able to afford an Eastern trip until I am quite old. -When the boys are all off my hands, I mean to save up, so that I can -travel about wherever I like when I am an ancient spinster. It would -scarcely do for me to go out now and set up a girls’ High School under -the shadow of the Residency, would it?” - -“Scarcely,” laughed Lady Haigh; “and I am afraid, too, you would -hardly get pupils enough to make it pay, except possibly among the -Greeks and Armenians. The Turkish ladies are kept very closely -secluded, and although the Pasha is very anxious to do what he can to -introduce European customs, yet he is not even backed up by his own -harem.” - -“It must feel like being in the ‘Arabian Nights’ to live in Baghdad,” -said Cecil. - -“Wouldn’t you like to find out something about it from one of the -natives?” asked Lady Haigh, indicating a tall, olive-complexioned -gentleman a short distance off, clad in irreproachable evening-dress -and a fez cap. “That is Denarien Bey, an Armenian gentleman whose -family has lived in Baghdad for many generations. He is in England at -present on some business for the Pasha, and would be delighted to tell -you anything you wanted to know.” - -She beckoned with her fan, and Denarien Bey came forward with much -alacrity. He bowed very politely when he was introduced, but Cecil -fancied that she saw a start of dismay when he caught her name. She -assured herself afterwards, however, that it must have been only -fancy, for he was most attentive, answered all her questions about -Baghdad, and escorted her to the buffet and catered for her as -punctiliously as any Englishman. At last he took her back to Miss -Arbuthnot, and the strange, delightful evening was over. Cecil passed -the sleeping hours of that night in a wild whirl, in which visions of -Baghdad in the golden prime of good Haroun-al-Raschid were peopled -with the gorgeous throngs she had seen at Burlington House, and the -President’s bow and hand-shake had some occult connection with the -black eyes and hooked nose of Denarien Bey, and with the diamonds and -Indian embroidery of the “Mother of Teeth,” as her Armenian friend had -informed her that Lady Haigh was called in Baghdad. Towards morning -she had a less extravagant dream, relating to the foundation of the -High School she had laughingly proposed, and including the appearance -of his Excellency Ahmed Khémi, Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, in full -uniform and blazing with orders, to give away the prizes at the end of -the first term. From this delightful vision Cecil was roused by a -visit from Miss Arbuthnot, who came to her room to see whether she had -overslept herself, and again displayed considerable interest in -ascertaining what dress she intended to wear. - -Breakfast over, and Miss Arbuthnot’s modest victoria at the door to -convey Cecil to meet her fate, the principal grew nervous again. Cecil -was far more collected than she was, and got together her testimonials -and certificates with a calmness which was extremely creditable. At -last they were ready to start, and, after what seemed a miraculously -short drive, arrived at Daridge’s Hotel. Cecil’s courage was beginning -to fail her now, and she felt her limbs trembling as she followed Miss -Arbuthnot into the hall, and thence up the wide staircase, preceded by -a peculiarly gorgeous domestic in livery. Presently this individual -opened a door on one side of a lofty corridor, and ushered them into -a room filled with gentlemen. Cecil caught Miss Arbuthnot’s arm. - -“This can’t be the right room. He’s taking us into a committee meeting -by mistake,” she whispered. - -“No, my dear, it is all right,” said Miss Arbuthnot, and marched on -undauntedly, Cecil following, and experiencing something of the -feeling which must have actuated Childe Roland when he came to the -Dark Tower. - -The gentlemen rose as they entered, and one of them, in whom Cecil -recognised her last night’s acquaintance, Denarien Bey, came to shake -hands; while, to complete her mystification, she caught sight of Lady -Haigh smiling and nodding at her from the other side of a long table. -Denarien Bey placed chairs for the new arrivals--a proceeding which -reminded Cecil forcibly of the words sometimes met with in the reports -of trials, “the prisoner at the bar was accommodated with a -seat,”--and then returned to his place, so that Cecil had time to look -about her. - -There were some eight or nine gentlemen present, the chief of whom -seemed to be a grey-haired man at the end of the table. His face was -in some way familiar to Cecil, but it was not at first that she -remembered that she had seen him in close attendance on the Turkish -Ambassador on his way to some State function. Next to him, on either -side, sat Lady Haigh and Denarien Bey, and then came several -vivacious, dark-eyed gentlemen in fezzes, who talked among themselves -with a great deal of gesticulation, and seemed to bear a kind of -national likeness to the Armenian envoy. Somewhat apart from the rest -sat a stout elderly Englishman, with a stolid and unconvinced -expression, and a general air of being present to keep other people -from being imposed upon. There was also a secretary--a slim, -dark-skinned youth in spectacles, who scribbled notes in a large -clasped book, when he was not nibbling his pen and staring at Cecil; -and lastly, at the very end of the table, Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot -themselves. Cecil was in a hopeless state of amazement and -mystification, feeling, moreover, a terrible inclination to giggle on -finding herself the cynosure of all the eyes in the room. What could -it all mean? Was it possible that Ahmed Khémi Pasha, who was said to -be fond of European innovations, was going to found a High School in -Baghdad? and was she to take charge of it? But no; Miss Arbuthnot had -said that the situation was to be in a private family. What could be -going to happen? - -There was a little low-toned conversation between the two gentlemen at -the head of the table, and then Denarien Bey spoke. - -“We have heard, mademoiselle, that you are willing to accept a -situation as governess out of England--a course seldom adopted by -young ladies of your high attainments. This suggested to her -ladyship,” he bowed to Lady Haigh, “and myself the idea that you might -be found the proper person to undertake a charge of a very delicate -and important nature. Before saying more, I must impress upon you that -all that passes here is in strict confidence, whether the result of -this interview is satisfactory or the reverse.” - -Cecil bowed, and he went on-- - -“I think I shall scarcely be committing an indiscretion if I mention -in the present company that his Excellency Ahmed Khémi Pasha, whom I -have the honour to represent here, intends to make his third son, Azim -Shams-ed-Din Bey, his heir. A cause may be found for this in the -unsatisfactory character of his Excellency’s eldest son; and there are -also other family reasons which render it imperative. His Excellency -has always felt a profound admiration for the English people, and this -has of late so much increased that he is anxious to secure an English -governess for the Bey, who is now about ten years old. As I was about -to visit England, his Excellency thought fit to confide to me the duty -of finding a lady with suitable qualifications who would be willing to -accept the post, and I, feeling the charge too heavy for me, even with -the kind and experienced help of her ladyship, have taken the -precaution of associating with myself my good friend Tussûn Bey,” -here he bowed to the old gentleman at the head of the table, “and -these other kind friends.” - -There was another interlude of bowing, and Denarien Bey continued-- - -“The special qualifications which his Excellency desired me to seek in -the lady who is to have the charge of his son are these: she must be -capable of carrying on and completing the Bey’s education in all but -strictly military subjects; she must be young and--and--well, not -disagreeable-looking, that the Bey may feel inclined to learn from -her; she must be discreet and not given to making mischief; and she -must have been trained in the best methods of teaching. May I trouble -you, mademoiselle, to bring your testimonials to this end of the -table?” - -Somewhat surprised, Cecil rose and carried her bundle of papers to -him, while the other gentlemen all turned round on their chairs to -look at her, apparently to ascertain whether she fulfilled the second -condition satisfactorily. - -“I think, gentlemen,” said Tussûn Bey in French, “that if -Mademoiselle Antaza”--he made a bold attempt at the unmanageable -name--“finds herself able to accept the situation, his Excellency will -be much gratified by her appearance. She is thoroughly English.” - -“_Vraiment anglaise!_” ran down the table, as all the gentlemen gazed -critically at the tall slight figure in the severely simple tweed -dress and cloth jacket, with the small close hat and short veil -crowning the smooth hair. Cecil returned blushing to her place, while -Denarien Bey explained to his assessors the purport of the various -testimonials; and the secretary, finding Miss Arbuthnot’s eye upon -him, made copious notes. After a time the papers were all returned to -Denarien Bey, the gentlemen making remarks upon them in two or three -strange-sounding dialects; and after receiving a paper from the -secretary, the Pasha’s representative proceeded to explain the terms -which were offered. - -The salary proposed was a large one, but the Pasha was anxious that -his son’s course of study should be uninterrupted, and it was -therefore his endeavour to secure for it an unbroken period of five -years by the following plan. Cecil was to sign an agreement, if her -services were engaged, to serve for two years, and on the expiration -of this term she could, if she was willing, at once sign another bond -to remain three years more, after which she was to be entitled to a -large extra bonus in consideration of her labours in conducting Azim -Bey’s education to a successful close. If Cecil broke the agreement, -she was to forfeit the salary for all but the time she had actually -served; but if it was broken by the Pasha for any cause excepting her -misconduct, the balance was to be paid to her. By the end of the five -years Azim Bey would be fifteen, and old enough to be emancipated from -female control, and Cecil might return to her own country after an -uninterrupted absence of five years. - -Cecil’s heart sank as she listened. When she heard the amount of the -salary offered, she had eagerly calculated what she could do for the -boys with it, and the mention of the bonus raised high hopes in her -heart, until she realised the conditions under which alone it was to -be gained. Actually to expatriate herself for five whole years! Never -to see England, or her father, or cheerful little Mrs Anstruther, or -any of those dear dreadful children for five years! It was too -appalling. She was on the point of rising and refusing the situation -point-blank, but she found that Denarien Bey was speaking again. - -“You will take until the day after to-morrow to consider this, -mademoiselle. I will peruse carefully your testimonials, if you will -be good enough to leave them with me; and if they prove satisfactory, -as I have no doubt will be the case, and you decide to accept the -terms offered by his Excellency, Lady Haigh’s return to Baghdad to -rejoin her husband will afford an excellent opportunity for your -journey thither. This proposal comes from her ladyship herself, and I -do not doubt that you will rejoice to avail yourself of it. I would -remind you that there is no obligation upon you, when you have served -for two years, to sign the further bond for three years more, although -his Excellency is anxious to secure this, and offers such a handsome -present with the view of obtaining it. I thank you for your presence -here to-day, mademoiselle, and will not trouble you any further.” - -The whole assembly rose and bowed as Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot passed -out, Lady Haigh following them closely. - -“Come to my sitting-room,” she said; “you are going to lunch with me, -you know. Denarien Bey will be coming in as soon as he has got rid of -his friends, and then we can pick his brains to some purpose.” - - - - - CHAPTER III. - A MOST ADVANTAGEOUS OFFER. - -“Come in, come in,” said Lady Haigh, hospitably, leading the way -into her sitting-room. “Well, Cecil, my dear (for I really must call -you so), were you very much astonished at the sight of that formidable -array? Wasn’t it just like Denarien Bey to make such a tremendous -business of it? I suppose it’s his nature to like to have a great fuss -about everything.” - -“But hadn’t the Pasha appointed the council of selection?” asked Miss -Arbuthnot. - -“Not a bit of it,” laughed Lady Haigh. “Of course, for one thing, -Denarien Bey was in a terrible fright. If Cecil turned out -unsatisfactory, or if he bungled the business in any way, he might -lose his head. So he gets together as many people as he can with whom -to share the responsibility, so that he can put the blame on them if -anything goes wrong, while some of them are too strong for the Pasha -to touch, and the others are out of his reach. But it was simply a -desire to make a great business of the matter which made him drag poor -old Tussûn Bey here from the Embassy.” - -“Yes; I could not quite see what he had to do with it,” said Miss -Arbuthnot. - -“Why, my dear Marian,” cried Lady Haigh, “he is the Pasha’s agent in -the Embassy. Of course it is not called so. We say that he is -‘connected with the Pasha by old ties of friendship,’ but that only -means that he is in his pay. He is originally and officially an -ordinary secretary of Embassy; but his private and particular business -is to watch over the Pasha’s interests, and warn him of any danger -from his enemies here, either in the Embassy or in our own -Government.” - -“And all the other gentlemen, who were they?” asked Cecil. - -“The Easterns were various Levantines and Armenians settled in London, -also devoted to the Pasha’s interests. Some of them are in his pay, -and some of them pay him. Of course what he gives them is called -remuneration for services performed, and what they give him is called -a present, or a tribute of respect, or something of that sort.” - -“My dear Elma!” said Miss Arbuthnot, “I had no idea of the network of -corruption into which you were leading us.” - -“Corruption?” said Lady Haigh. “You might call it corruption in -England, but for Ahmed Khémi Pasha it is really only self-defence. He -knows that he is surrounded by spies and people who are longing to see -him make a false step, and then report it at Constantinople, poor man! -Of course I don’t defend his methods; I only say that from his point -of view he has some excuse for them. His position is frightfully -insecure. And that reminds me, you noticed the Englishman who watched -over our conference just now?” - -“Yes,” said Miss Arbuthnot and Cecil together. - -“That was Mr Skrine, the Pasha’s banker, with whom Denarien Bey is -staying. It is said that Ahmed Khémi invested £50,000 with him only -last year, as a precaution, of course, in case he should be obliged to -take flight.” - -“But what is he afraid of?” asked Cecil; “has he done anything?” - -“He has not committed any crime, if that is what you mean--not what is -considered a crime in the East, at any rate. But he has committed the -offence of existing, and of being the Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, and -that alone makes him innumerable enemies. His reforms and his -innovations have made him a good many more, and so the poor man has -need of all the friends he can get to counteract their influence.” - -“But can he trust Denarien Bey? Isn’t he an enemy?” asked Cecil. - -“Denarien Bey stands or falls with Ahmed Khémi Pasha, as things are -at present. He is too deeply committed to his cause to be able to -dissociate himself from it.” - -“But he is an Armenian,” objected Cecil, “and I thought the Armenians -hated the Turks?” - -“Theoretically, all Armenians hate and despise all Turks, and the -Turks return the compliment with interest,” said Lady Haigh, “but -practically they often find each other very useful. I daresay that -Denarien Bey in his foolish moments, and when he is quite sure there -are no spies about, talks of independence, and glorifies Holy Russia -as the protector of the enslaved. But in everyday life he remembers -that he is not a patriot hiding in the hills, with a long gun and a -few rags for all his possessions, but a prosperous citizen, with a -wife and family to support, and a reputation to keep up. I don’t know -what might happen if a revolution really came, and seemed very likely -to be successful. I fancy that Denarien Bey would find political -salvation then; but for anything short of that, I think he will stick -to the Pasha.” - -“Lady Haigh, don’t you believe in any one?” Cecil’s tone was one of -absolute dismay, and Lady Haigh laughed pleasantly. - -“Not in many Armenians, dear, at any rate--or many Easterns, for that -matter. I will give you a warning, Cecil. If you wish to keep your -faith in human nature, don’t marry a consul-general in the East. When -you have knocked about as much as I have, you will know what I mean. -Of course there are exceptions. Ah! here is Denarien Bey at last. Now -we can have lunch, and a really interesting talk.” - -Cecil was still suffering under the shock caused by Lady Haigh’s want -of faith in oriental human nature, and she was very silent at first. -But the other two ladies kept up a brisk conversation with Denarien -Bey, and presently she became interested against her will. - -“Of what nation is the Pasha?” she asked at last, when the rest had -been discussing the various reforms which his Excellency had lately -introduced. - -“It is very difficult to say,” replied Denarien Bey, meditatively. “I -should think it probable that he has mingled Turkish, Circassian, and -Egyptian blood in his veins. Nothing is known of his antecedents, but -in Turkey we care little about that. When he first rose to distinction -it was alleged that he himself did not know who his parents were, but -he disproved the calumny by producing his mother, and installing her -as the head of his harem.” - -“And a most disagreeable woman she is too,” said Lady Haigh, with deep -feeling. “I really don’t know a more intolerable person. It is a -perfect penance to have to go and pay my respects to her, which is one -of my official duties.” - -“But why is not the Pasha’s wife the head of his harem?” asked Cecil. - -“Which?” asked Denarien Bey, raising his eyebrows slightly. - -“Oh, has he more than one? I thought he was an enlightened kind of -man,” said Cecil. - -“He had already two wives when he came to Baghdad,” said Denarien Bey. -“You can suppose that his mother chose them for him, if you like, -mademoiselle. But his third and favourite wife, the mother of Azim -Bey, was an Arab, the daughter of the sheikh of the great Hajar tribe. -So you see it is as well that there was some one to keep order in the -harem, or the wills of these three ladies might have clashed.” - -“But how can the Pasha choose Azim Bey to succeed him if he has two -sons older than he is, as you said when we were in the other room?” -asked Cecil. - -“Not to succeed him, mademoiselle. Surely nothing that I said could -have suggested to you such an idea? In Turkey we do not believe in -hereditary honours, except in the case of the sovereign, and even then -it is the eldest prince in the royal family who succeeds, not -necessarily the eldest son of the late king, by any means. But with -respect to a pashalik like that of Baghdad, any son of the present -Pasha is the very last person on whom the Padishah would think of -conferring it at his death. In one or two generations a clever family -might gain the allegiance of the whole province, and succeed in -detaching it from the empire. It would be the height of folly to -permit such a thing. No, our young friend Azim Bey will be only a -private person, or if he wishes for public office, he will have to -make his way, like the sons of your own viceroys and -governor-generals. Of course there will be many advantages on his -side. He would have experience, friends, and plenty of money, which, -after all, is the great thing with us.” - -“Then how is he the Pasha’s heir?” asked Cecil. - -“He will succeed to the bulk of his property,” answered Denarien Bey, -“and that is by no means contemptible.” - -“But what about the two elder sons?” asked Cecil. - -“That is a long story,” said Denarien Bey. “The Pasha’s eldest son, -Hussein Bey, was brought up by his mother and grandmother in -retirement while his Excellency was struggling to his present -position, and he grew up a very strict and bigoted Mussulman. Ahmed -Khémi is, as you, mademoiselle, have heard, a man of liberal and -enlightened opinions, and as soon as he sent for his household to -Baghdad, trouble began. Whatever the Pasha did was bitterly opposed by -his son, who was supported by the influence of the palace harem. At -length things became so bad that Hussein Bey was banished, but he is -still concerned in every plot which is set on foot by the more -fanatical among the Moslems to get rid of the Pasha, and he hates, -perhaps not unnaturally, his half-brother, Azim Bey. I believe that -his mother and grandmother have some wild idea that he may be able, if -properly supported, to depose his father and succeed him. Such a case -has occurred once during the present century, but it is not in the -least likely to be repeated, and they are not the right people to -bring it about, in any case.” - -“And the second son?” asked Cecil. - -“Ah, the difficulty about Mahmoud Bey was of a different kind. His -Excellency was much at Constantinople before he became Pasha, and -while there he associated a good deal with certain members of the -European colony at Pera, who were not, perhaps, altogether the best -company he could have found. Among these was a Frenchman named Cadran, -who acted as tutor to the young Mahmoud Bey, and made himself very -useful to his father. When his Excellency came to Baghdad, M. Cadran -accompanied him, and was even allowed to give French lessons to Naimeh -Khanum, the Pasha’s eldest daughter, who was then very young. Suddenly -it was discovered that he was trying to induce the young lady to elope -with him, and was doing his best to gain her attendants over by -bribery. Of course the fellow was sent off at once, and unfortunately, -he was sent off so quickly that he was able to present a claim for -damages. The French Government took up the matter, and the Pasha was -forced to pay very heavily. Some time before, it had been arranged -that Mahmoud Bey was to finish his education in France, and he was -sent to the École Polytechnique. That was all very well, but when he -had finished his course of study, he refused to come back. He was -enjoying himself in Paris, with Cadran at his elbow, and his -Excellency was in communication with the French Government on the -subject, when the Bey died suddenly and all was ended.” - -“And so Azim Bey is the only one left?” said Cecil. - -“Just so, mademoiselle. Emineh[01] Khanum, his mother, was, as I have -said, the Pasha’s favourite wife, and on her deathbed she induced him -to promise to make her son his heir. That was just after Mahmoud Bey’s -first refusal to come home, and his Excellency was so angry that he -consented at once. But it was a foolish wish of the poor mother’s to -see her son the heir, for his brothers became incensed against him -immediately, and he is a mark for the hatred of the whole harem. Now -that his mother is dead, there is no one to protect him, and the -Um-ul-Pasha (mother of the Pasha) and the other two wives hate him for -the sake of the two elder sons. His Excellency has been obliged always -to take him with him wherever he went, and to keep him in the -_selamlik_ (the men’s part of the house), instead of the harem when at -home, to save his life; but he finds that the Bey, from being so much -with men, is growing precocious and conceited, and he desires -therefore to obtain a governess for him.” - -“But what made him wish for an Englishwoman?” - -Denarien Bey smiled grimly. - -“It is not easy, mademoiselle, to find ladies of other nationalities -who combine the necessary qualifications. A Frenchwoman might have -been obtained, but after what I have told you, you will not be -surprised to hear that his Excellency would not allow a French person -to enter the palace, much less to have the charge of his son. For the -English, on the contrary, he has the highest admiration, and would -have liked to send the Bey to be educated at one of your great public -schools. The desire, however, of keeping him under his own eye, and -the fear of a repetition of his experience with Mahmoud Bey, induces -him to prefer this method, if it can be found practicable.” - -Shortly after this Denarien Bey took his departure, after again -expressing his earnest hope that Cecil would see her way clear to -accepting the post offered her. When he was gone, Lady Haigh rose. - -“Come, Marian,” she said to Miss Arbuthnot, “you and I are going to do -our shopping. You promised me the whole day, you know. Cecil is going -to sit down and write a glowing description of the situation the Pasha -offers her to her father, and say how much she longs to take it.” - -“But I don’t in the least think that papa will let me go, Lady Haigh,” -said Cecil, waiving the remark about her personal wishes. - -“If he won’t, he is a much more foolish man than I think him,” replied -Lady Haigh, in her most uncompromising manner; “and I shall consider -it my duty to write him an urgent letter of remonstrance.” - -“When you go back, Lady Haigh,” asked Cecil, suddenly, “shall you go -to Beyrout and Damascus and then across the desert to Baghdad?” - -“When _we_ go back, my dear Cecil,” corrected Lady Haigh, -impressively, “we shall go by the P. & O. to Karachi, then by another -steamer to Basra, and then by another to Baghdad. I am not an -adventurous young lady disposed to be sentimental over Bedouin -wanderers, and I have no wish to go through unnecessary hardships, nor -yet to be captured by insurgent Arabs and held to ransom, and so I -fear that you will have to be content to accompany the steady-going -old woman by this humdrum route.” - -“But I am quite sure that papa will never let me go,” repeated Cecil, -confidently, with a sigh that was not all of sadness. - -For æsthetic reasons she would be sorry not to see Baghdad, but -everything else seemed to combine to make her dread going there. She -was so strongly convinced that her father would share her feelings, -that she gave herself a great deal of trouble in trying to compose a -letter to him which should be scrupulously fair, and place all the -advantages of the situation in their proper light. The letter once -written and sent off, she felt quite at ease in her mind, and was even -disposed to mourn gently over the chance she was losing. It was Miss -Arbuthnot, and not Cecil, who betrayed excitement when Mr Anstruther’s -answer arrived, and waited with bated breath whilst it was opened. - -“I am sure he won’t let me go, Miss Arbuthnot,” Cecil had said, -smiling, as she took up the envelope; but on glancing through the -letter she uttered a cry, and looked up with a piteous face of dismay. - -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, he wants me to go--at least, he says that it -seems a most excellent offer, and he is coming up to town early -to-morrow morning to see about it and to talk to you.” - -“Well, my dear, it only confirms the high opinion I have always held -of your father’s judgment. I expected he would say just this.” - -“It only shows how dreadfully I must have failed at home if papa is so -anxious to send me away,” said Cecil, on the verge of tears. - -“My dear child, if you will only look at things in a sensible light -instead of determining to make yourself out a martyr, you will -remember that Mr Anstruther is probably thinking only how much you -could help with the boys’ education.” - -But Cecil refused to be consoled, and her only comfort lay in the hope -that Mr Anstruther would find the post unsatisfactory when he came to -look into its conditions a little more. But she was out when he -arrived, and he was ushered immediately into the presence of Miss -Arbuthnot and Lady Haigh, who both assured him that Cecil was an -extremely fortunate girl to have such a chance. - -“You see,” said Miss Arbuthnot, “Cecil has done so very well that an -ordinary situation as governess or High School mistress is not to be -thought of for her. But here is an almost unique post waiting for her -acceptance in which she may do work which might well be called making -history. It is true that she must bind herself for five years or so, -but this is less of a drawback in her case than in others. I do not -myself think that she is likely to marry--at any rate, not early--for -she is a little fastidious in her tastes,--not that this is to be -regretted, but rather admired.” - -Mr Anstruther almost blushed when he heard his daughter’s future thus -candidly discussed. It had not occurred to him to regard marriage in -the light in which it appeared to Miss Arbuthnot--as a kind of -devouring gulf which swallowed up the finest products of the female -education movement--and it seemed to him indelicate to estimate -probabilities so openly. But both ladies were so evidently unconscious -of Miss Arbuthnot’s having said anything improper that he quickly -recovered his composure and listened undisturbed to Lady Haigh’s -_exposé_ of the advantages of the scheme. The consequence was that -when Cecil came in her father’s last doubts had been removed, and he -was ready to bid her God-speed in her enterprise. - -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, must I go?” she asked despairingly, when Mr -Anstruther had hurried off to catch his train for Whitcliffe, and -Cecil and the principal were at tea in the latter’s sanctum. - -“That is for you to decide,” answered Miss Arbuthnot. - -“That is just what papa said,” wailed Cecil; “but I don’t want to -decide.” - -“That means that you don’t want to go to Baghdad?” said Miss -Arbuthnot. - -“I want to go if it is right,” said Cecil; “but how am I to know -whether it is right? Don’t you think it seems like going into -temptation?” - -“Temptation of what kind?” asked Miss Arbuthnot. “Temptation to become -a Mohammedan, do you mean? No, my dear Cecil, I cannot honestly say -that I think the side of Islam you will see at Baghdad is likely to -attract you to it.” - -“Now you are laughing at me,” said Cecil, reproachfully. - -“Dear child, I want to help you. If you feel that there is a work to -be done in Baghdad, and that you are called to do it, go; if not, stay -at home.” - -“But I am not to have anything to do with Azim Bey’s religious -education. Denarien Bey said that the Pasha would look after that.” - -“You can show him a Christian life, and you can exercise a Christian -influence,” said Miss Arbuthnot. “You have the honour of England and -of Christianity in your hands, Cecil, and it will be your work to -remove prejudice and to set an example of honesty and -incorruptibility.” - -“But how am I to know that it is my work?” asked Cecil again. - -“Cecil!” said Miss Arbuthnot, more in sorrow than in anger, “do I hear -one of my girls talking like this? This work is offered to you, and -you doubt whether it is meant for you. Your father, considering you a -reasonable being, leaves the decision to you, and you will not -decide.” - -“But I had so much rather he had told me outright either to go or to -stay,” pleaded Cecil. “I can’t bear deciding for myself.” - -“Timidity again, Cecil. So far as I can make you out, you are -convinced that you ought to go, but you want to stay.” - -“I do really want to do what is right, Miss Arbuthnot, but it feels so -dreadful to be going so far away from every one.” - - - “‘I only know I cannot drift - Beyond His love and care,’” - - -quoted Miss Arbuthnot, reverently. - -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, you all want to drive me to Baghdad,” cried -Cecil, with tears in her eyes. - -“Is not that very thing the leading you are looking for?” asked Miss -Arbuthnot. - -“I think it must be,” said Cecil, slowly. “Say no more, Miss -Arbuthnot--I will go.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE SHINING EAST. - -A very busy time followed upon Cecil’s decision. Her agreement with -the Pasha had to be signed at once, before Denarien Bey left London, -though it was not to come into force until she reached Baghdad. It was -an imposing document, written in French, Arabic, and Turkish, with an -English translation thoughtfully appended, and Denarien Bey signed it -on the Pasha’s behalf, Lady Haigh adding her signature as a witness. -Two lawyers and several interpreters assisted in drawing up the deed, -and the extraordinary stipulations considered necessary by one party -and the other became a subject of mirth for both. When this legal -business was ended, Cecil went down to Whitcliffe for her farewells, -and found that her prospective departure had cast such a glamour over -her in the eyes of the younger children, that they regarded her with a -mixture of awe and envy delightful to behold. She was early informed -that she was expected to see and describe in full both Noah’s Ark and -the Tower of Babel; while the mere mention of Nineveh, Babylon, and -the Euphrates filled the youthful minds with an expectant wonder, -which would have been surprised by no result of her prospective -travels, however astounding. - -Mrs Anstruther was chiefly concerned as to the fate of a box of plain -and fancy needlework, the fruit of the labours of the St Barnabas’ -working-party during the past winter, which was destined for Mrs -Yehudi, the wife of a Jewish missionary labouring at Baghdad among his -own people,[02] and which Cecil was requested to deliver in person. -It was so delightful to think that Cecil would be able to write her a -special account of Dr and Mrs Yehudi’s work, to be read aloud at the -working-party, said Mrs Anstruther, who believed fervently in her -step-daughter, and thought that she was the most wonderful young woman -in the world. Perhaps it was this very faith which made her, in -Cecil’s present state of mind, appear unsympathetic, for her -imagination was vivid, and ran riot among the gorgeous possibilities -of the situation, having been nourished principally on a careful study -of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ which Mrs Anstruther regarded as a sort of -introductory guide-book to modern Baghdad. - -Taken altogether, the last few weeks at Whitcliffe were so -heart-breaking that Cecil was almost relieved when the day arrived for -her departure. She had still ten days or so to spend in London in -getting her outfit, and her father was to come up to see her off, but -this must be the final farewell to Mrs Anstruther and the children. -Cecil could almost have gone down on her knees to beg to be allowed to -stay, if that would have done any good, so utterly desolate and lonely -did she feel in view of the prospect which lay before her; but the -remembrance of Miss Arbuthnot’s strictures came over her, and helped -her to depart without quite breaking down. But it was very hard, and -when once the train was fairly on its way she withdrew into her corner -and cried. What were all the splendours and potentialities of her -future position compared with the row of tear-stained faces she had -seen on the platform, as she leaned out to get the last sight of the -station? Through all her wanderings that picture would remain -imprinted on her mind, its comic elements unperceived, and all -appearing as saddest earnest. Other people, whose attention was -attracted by the family group, laughed to behold Mr Anstruther -forcibly restraining Patsy and Terry, whose paroxysms of grief -threatened to land them on the rails, while Fitz stood by, with his -hands deep in his pockets, trying hard to whistle, and thereby prove -his manhood. Eily, Norah, and Geraldine, wiping their eyes vigorously -with abnormally dirty pocket-handkerchiefs, did not detract from the -moving effect of the scene upon a disinterested bystander, nor did Mrs -Anstruther, who had little Loey in her arms, and wiped her eyes upon -his jacket. Indeed, a cynical passenger in Cecil’s own compartment, on -hearing the tempest of wails and sobs which heralded the departure of -the train, remarked that the members of that family were evidently -trying to compete against the railway-whistle, and that they stood an -excellent chance of success. He had only jumped in as the train moved -off, and did not guess Cecil’s relationship to the family in question, -but his wife nudged him fiercely and frowningly, and he said no more. - -During her ten days in London Cecil had little time to give to grief. -It was an incessant rush from shop to stores, and from stores to shop, -a whirl of choosing things, and being fitted, and packing and -superintending. She had not only her own things to get, but an -assortment of the best and newest books and teaching appliances for -her future schoolroom at Baghdad. For this she had _carte blanche_ -from the Pasha, and was further empowered to order a certain number of -books on educational subjects to be sent out to her every year. Cecil -had always (except at the moment of teaching her young brothers and -sisters) felt a pride and pleasure in her profession as teacher, and -she hailed with joy this proof of the high estimation in which his -Excellency also held her office. Miss Arbuthnot luxuriated as much as -she did in the newest educational inventions, but it was with an -unselfish, altruistic delight, for the governors of the South Central -High School had no mind for experiments, and preferred to wait until a -new idea was several years old before adopting it. - -At last all was ready, and books and maps and school furniture were -safely packed and sent on board ship in company with Cecil’s own -modest outfit. It had been arranged that she was to adopt a -modification of the native costume when at Baghdad, so as to avoid as -far as possible shocking the susceptibilities of the Moslems in the -Palace, and her personal luggage was therefore comparatively small in -bulk; still, it represented a good deal of care and thought, and Cecil -and Miss Arbuthnot heaved sighs of relief when it was off their minds. -The next business was the farewell to the old School, where the girls -and governesses, most of whom knew Cecil well, and nearly all of whom -regarded her with admiring envy, entertained her at supper, and -presented her with an elaborate dressing-case, in returning thanks for -which she so nearly broke down that Miss Arbuthnot had to finish the -speech for her. - -This was on the very last evening before her departure, and the next -day her father came up by the first train from Whitcliffe, and Lady -Haigh gave her up to him until three o’clock. If Cecil had been -inclined to think that she had caused more disappointment than joy to -her father, she was undeceived by those last few hours spent alone -with him, when he allowed a corner of the veil of reserve which -usually shrouded his inner feelings to lift, and let her see something -of what she really was to him. To poor Mr Anstruther, however, on -looking back on it, the interview did not seem to have been at all -satisfactory, for he had been thinking for days past of things he -ought to say to his daughter, and after it he was continually -remembering others which he ought to have said, none of which had -occurred to him at the time. As it was, he gave her many pieces of -advice as to her behaviour, her occupations, her influence over her -pupil, her Sundays, and so on, interspersed with periods of sorrowful -silence, which were far more eloquent than his abrupt and painful -counsels. Thus the time passed as they walked up and down the Thames -Embankment together, or sat down and pretended to admire the -flower-beds, and then they made their way slowly to the place where -they were to meet Lady Haigh. Miss Arbuthnot had heroically denied -herself the last sight of her pupil that she and her father might be -alone together as long as possible, and thus Cecil had no one but Mr -Anstruther to think of as she leant out of the carriage window for a -last look at his tall spare figure and lined face. It was the last -look for five years, and five such years!--too much to have faced if -she had known what they were to bring. - -It seemed to Cecil afterwards that Lady Haigh must have talked on -quietly and continuously, without making a pause or expecting an -answer, from the time they left the hotel until they reached the -docks. It was kindly intended, no doubt, that Cecil might have time to -cry a little and recover herself, but as a means of conveying -information it was a failure. Lady Haigh told Cecil all about the -captain and officers of the steamer by which they were to travel, and -by which she herself had returned to England. She also remarked that -her own Syrian maid had gone on board already with the luggage and -would give Cecil any assistance she might need during the earlier part -of the voyage, since the attendant who had been specially engaged for -her would not join them until they reached Egypt. They were to break -their journey at Alexandria and pay a visit of a week or two to Cairo, -where a married sister of Lady Haigh’s was living, whose husband -occupied a prominent post in the _entourage_ of the then Khedive. Here -also they were to be joined by a cousin of Lady Haigh’s, who had just -been appointed surgeon of the hospital attached to the British -Residency at Baghdad, and who was to escort them during the rest of -their journey. By means of this one-sided conversation the chasm -caused by the actual parting was bridged, and Lady Haigh beguiled the -time of dropping down the Thames and settling their cabin with similar -pieces of information, while, when they were once fairly at sea, Cecil -was too ill to be able to think of any but strictly personal miseries. - -For once the agents’ rose-coloured forecast of the voyage proved to be -correct. The steamer did not meet with bad weather, nor did her -engines break down, and she accomplished the distance in rather less -than the average time, but Lady Haigh refused to listen to Cecil’s -plea for a day or two in Alexandria, and insisted on hurrying on at -once to Cairo. - -“My dear,” she said, “all this”--with a contemptuous wave of her hand -towards the fine houses on either side of the broad street through -which they were driving--“all this is modern, European, French, -tasteless! You want to enjoy your first sight of Eastern life, you -say? Very well, then thank me for taking you at once where you will -really see it, and not this wretched half-imitation.” - -“But the sky! the palm-trees! the people! the colours, Lady Haigh!” -cried Cecil in an ecstasy. - -“Nonsense, my dear--nothing to what you will see at Cairo!” and Cecil -was forced to be content. - -A short railway journey brought them to Cairo, and they found Mr -Boleyn, Lady Haigh’s brother-in-law, waiting to meet them. They drove -to his house in a luxurious carriage, with running footmen and a -magnificent coachman, and Cecil left the talk to her two companions, -and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the new pictures which met her -eye on every side. It seemed to her that she would have liked that -drive to go on for ever, and she was genuinely sorry, tired though she -was, to reach the Boleyns’ house, although she ought to have felt more -sympathy for Lady Haigh, who had not seen her sister for over twenty -years. It seemed to Cecil, however, that both ladies would have -acquiesced cheerfully in an even longer separation, for they could not -forget the time when Lady Haigh had been a clever and irrepressible -younger sister, and Mrs Boleyn had felt it her duty systematically to -snub her. Life in the tropics had not suited the elder sister as well -as it had the younger, and Mrs Boleyn was tall and gaunt and withered, -with a tendency to exult over Lady Haigh, because she (Mrs Boleyn) had -always said that Elma would soon be tired of her studies and her talk -about Women’s Rights, and would marry like other people. - -“But she didn’t say that at all, my dear,” Lady Haigh confided to -Cecil when they were going to their rooms. “What she always said was -that I should never get a husband because of my ridiculous notions.” - -These ancient hostilities were renewed at dinner over the mention of -Dr Egerton, the gentleman who was to escort the travellers for the -rest of their way. - -“Charlie has not arrived yet, I see,” Lady Haigh said pleasantly, as -they sat down to the table. - -“No, and he is not likely to arrive, so far as I can tell,” said Mrs -Boleyn. “The temptations of Port Said have probably been too much for -him. What good you expect a feather-pated rattlebrain like that to do -at Baghdad, I don’t know! I don’t consider that you have done yourself -at all a good turn, Elma, in inducing Dugald to get him appointed -there.” - -“Charlie is a good fellow, and I want him to have a chance at last,” -said Lady Haigh, stoutly. “He has been unfortunate in his superiors -hitherto.” - -“I consider that his superiors have been extremely unfortunate in -him,” said Mrs Boleyn, with crushing calmness. - -“Well, we shall see,” said Lady Haigh, peaceably. “I hope to do what I -can to smooth his path, and Dugald will make allowances which another -man would not, perhaps.” - -“I call it a very foolish and ill-advised thing to bring him to -Baghdad,” persisted Mrs Boleyn; but as her sister did not accept the -challenge, the matter dropped. - -Mr Boleyn ate his dinner industriously without taking any notice of -the little dispute, and Cecil felt that his plan was the wisest, after -she had received two or three snubs from his wife in the course of the -evening for injudiciously endeavouring to change the subject of the -conversation when it seemed to be verging upon dangerous ground. Mrs -Boleyn’s manner and appearance did not tend to recommend her opinions -to the casual observer, and Cecil espoused Lady Haigh’s side of the -case so warmly in her own mind that she really did not need the -further assurance which her friend gave her when they went to their -rooms that night, and she found herself summoned to Lady Haigh’s -balcony for a talk. - -“I really can’t let you go to bed, Cecil, without putting you right -about poor Charlie Egerton. You mustn’t let Helena prejudice you -against him, for she has a way of finding something unpleasant to say -about every one. I think you know me well enough by this time, my dear -child, to be sure that I should not be likely to countenance anything -really unsatisfactory or wrong; but the fact is that, as I said, -Charlie has been unfortunate. He is very clever, and a most delightful -fellow, but he and his superiors always manage to rub one another the -wrong way. I daresay he is very eccentric, and likes to mix with the -natives more than Englishmen in the East generally do, but several -great men have done the same, and it is only a matter of taste, after -all, not a crime. He is very outspoken, too, and perhaps too much -disposed to be hail-fellow-well-met with every one he comes across. I -verily believe that if he met the Viceroy himself”--Lady Haigh spoke -with bated breath--“out for a walk, he would enter into conversation -quite coolly and offer him a cigar, just as if he was a man of his own -standing. If the Viceroy was a nice sensible sort of man and took it -all as it was meant, it would be all right, but if he was angry and -tried to snub him, Charlie would be very much hurt, perhaps indignant, -and would probably let him know it. You can imagine how a man of this -sort comes into collision with some of our stiff-and-starched -officials. They can’t understand a surgeon, with not so very many -years’ service, trying it on with them in that way, and they consider -it impudence; so they snub him, and that produces a coldness. Then -Charlie comes across some abuse, or some piece of official neglect -which he thinks it his duty to expose, and I should fear, my dear, -that, remembering the past, he doesn’t do it as tenderly as he might. -Then there are reports and complaints and censures, and finally Dr -Egerton is requested to resign. This has happened two or three times.” - -“A good man, no doubt, but perhaps not a very wise one,” was Cecil’s -comment. - -“That’s just it, my dear--as good as gold, but with no worldly wisdom -whatever. Well, I have got Sir Dugald to use his influence to get him -this post at Baghdad, and I only hope he may keep it. But now I see -Marta glaring at me like a reproachful ghost for keeping her up so -long, so I must send you away, Cecil. To-morrow night you also will -have begun to learn what a tyrant a confidential maid may become.” - -Cecil laughed, and said she meant to enjoy her last evening of -freedom, which she did by writing a long letter to her father, and -describing to him all that she had seen since her landing at -Alexandria. Consequently, she overslept herself the next morning and -did not wake until Marta brought her in a cup of tea, and informed her -that her maid had come and was waiting to see her. - -“I didn’t know that Eastern people got up so early in the morning -now,” said Cecil to herself as she dressed. “I thought they were -always about half a day late, but I suppose this is a unique -specimen.” - -“Come, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, tapping at her door, “don’t you want -to speak to your maid? She has been waiting quite a long time.” And -Cecil hurried through her toilet obediently, and, coming out of her -room, found a tall, severe-looking elderly Syrian woman talking to her -friend. - -“Her name is Khartûm,” said Lady Haigh, turning to Cecil, “but she is -always called Um Yusuf--mother of Joseph, that is. It is the custom in -Syria, you know. She has been a widow a good many years, and her son -is a soldier in the Turkish army. Her last situation was at -Constantinople, where she was nurse to the children of Lord Calne, the -late Ambassador, so she knows a good deal about the ins and outs of -Court life, and will be able to give you all the needed hints as to -etiquette, and so on. Of course I shall always be glad to tell you -anything; but then you will not have me continually at hand, and -really good manners in Turkey are a very complicated business.” - -In fact, Um Yusuf’s duties were those of a duenna quite as much as a -maid, and she was well fitted in appearance for the post. She wore the -long black silk mantle of the respectable Egyptian woman, which -enveloped her from head to foot, and Lady Haigh commended the costume -as exceedingly sensible and responsible-looking. - -“You will have to accompany Miss Anstruther everywhere,” she said to -the maid; “and I am sure I can depend upon you to help her with your -experience whenever she feels puzzled.” - -“She too young,” said Um Yusuf, bending her black brows on Cecil for -the first time. We spare the reader the good woman’s pronunciation, -while preserving her eccentric grammatical style. “Why she not stay -home and get married? Tahir Pasha’s daughter have governess, old lady -with spectacles, not like this. Azim Bey very bad boy. Laugh at -Mademoiselle Antaza.” - -“That is cheering news for you, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, laughing; -“but I don’t think you’ll be frightened. Miss Anstruther knows -something about naughty boys, Um Yusuf. She has four brothers at -home.” - -“English bad boy not like Toork bad boy,” said the imperturbable Um -Yusuf; “Azim Bey wicked boy, read bad books, go do bad things. My -cousin in Baghdad tell me all about him.” - -“A boy of ten who reads bad books!” cried Lady Haigh. “I didn’t know I -was bringing you to face such a monster of juvenile depravity, Cecil. -These Eastern children are very precocious, I know, but I never -thought of this particular form of wickedness. Well, my dear, I think -you will conquer him if any one can. But now it is breakfast-time, and -we are going to the bazaars afterwards with the dragoman, so we must -not be late. You can go to your sister Marta, Um Yusuf, and she will -show you the way about the house. She can tell you all you want to -know, too, so you need not trouble to try to read Miss Anstruther’s -letters.” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - A NEW EXPERIENCE. - -“There!” said Lady Haigh, “what do you think of that, Cecil?” - -They were sitting on the divan in a little cramped-up shop in one of -the bazaars, with tiny cups of black coffee before them, and all -manner of lovely fabrics--silks and muslins and brocades and -gauzes--strewn around. The proprietor of the establishment, an elderly -Moslem with a long beard, was exhibiting listlessly a rich, soft silk, -as though it was not of the slightest consequence to him whether they -bought anything or not. Leaning against the door-post was the -gorgeously attired dragoman whom Mr Boleyn had ordered to attend the -ladies in their shopping, and who made himself actively objectionable -by insisting on explaining everything that met their eyes, regardless -of the fact that Lady Haigh was an old Eastern traveller, and that -Cecil had read so much about Egypt that, but for her ignorance of the -language, she could have acted as cicerone in a Cairo street as well -as he could. - -At the sound of Lady Haigh’s voice, Cecil, whose seat was nearest the -street, turned with a start, for her eyes had wandered down the long -dim arcade and among the many-coloured figures thronging it. - -“I think it will do very well,” she said, and withdrawing her eyes -resolutely from the street, devoted herself to listening to the -energetic bargaining carried on between her friend and the shopman -with the dragoman’s assistance. It was very oriental, of course, but -it spoiled the poetry of the scene, and she was glad when Lady Haigh -at last rose and left the shop, after paying for the silk and -directing it to be sent to the house. - -“Caffé-house, ladies,” said the dragoman, when they had gone on a -little farther; and Cecil looked with much interest and curiosity at -the building he pointed out. It was a large, low room, with one side -open to the street, crowded with men sitting on the divans and -smoking, or drinking coffee out of cups which stood beside them on -little low tables. The group was a motley one, and Cecil, as soon as -her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, began to try and make out -by their costume the nationality of the different items that composed -it. Following the sound of a loud distinct voice speaking in some -unknown tongue, her gaze reached the speaker, and she saw to her -amazement that he was a European, or at any rate a sunburnt, -dark-haired young man in ordinary English dress. Lady Haigh’s eyes -followed hers, and seemed to make the same discovery at the same -moment, for their owner recoiled suddenly, and, seizing Cecil’s arm, -led her away. - -“Storree-teller tell tale, ladies,” remarked the dragoman, but Lady -Haigh appeared to be stifling irresistible laughter, and Cecil -wondered whether the story-teller were an oriental Mark Twain. - -“I know that boy will be the death of me!” cried Lady Haigh, finding -her voice at last. “My dear, it’s Charlie!” - -“Charlie? Dr Egerton, your cousin?” gasped Cecil. - -“The same, my dear. This is one of his freaks. You know I told you how -fond he is of mixing with the natives wherever he goes. Now I daresay -he has been a week in Cairo without ever letting Helena and her -husband know he was here, staying in some wretched little native inn, -and prowling about the bazaars all day.” - -Cecil’s private thought was that Dr Egerton’s tastes in the matter of -hotel accommodation must be peculiar, though she herself acknowledged -the fascination of the bazaars; but she had not time to make any -remark on the subject, for they heard some one running after them, and -turning, beheld the coffee-house hero himself. - -“Cousin Elma!” he cried, shaking hands with her, “I am so dreadfully -ashamed not to have known you. I had a dim idea that there were some -English ladies there, looking into the room, but I didn’t in the least -know who it was until a Baghdadi, who happened to be among the -audience, said--I mean, told me you were there.” - -“Oh, don’t be afraid of hurting my feelings, my dear boy. I know he -said, ‘O my Effendi, behold the Mother of Teeth,’ now didn’t he?” and -Lady Haigh laughed long and heartily. - -“You are cruelly hard on my poor little attempts at politeness, Cousin -Elma. You will give your friend an awful idea of me. Oh, by the bye,” -with intense eagerness, “what have you done with the old lady? Is she -at Cousin Helena’s? How do they get on together?” - -“My dear Charlie, what old lady? I have not the faintest idea whom you -mean.” - -“Why, the lady graduate, the instructress of youth, Mentor in a pith -helmet and spectacles, the new female Lycurgus,--his Excellency’s -English governess?” - -“Charlie, have I never told you not to run on at such a rate? I want -to introduce you. This is Miss Anstruther, officially known as -Mademoiselle Antaza, his Excellency’s English governess.” - -“Impossible!” cried he, aghast. - -“Really,” said Cecil, with some pique in her tone, “everybody seems to -think it their duty to impress upon me that I am very young and very -giddy for the office. I am rather tired of it.” - -“My dear Miss Anstruther,” said Charlie Egerton, solemnly, “I only -wish I were Azim Bey!” - -“Charlie, for shame!” cried Lady Haigh. “I will not have you tease -Miss Anstruther. Remember that you will be companions all through our -voyage to Baghdad, so you must behave properly. Cecil, my dear, you -must not mind this wild boy. He is always getting into trouble by -means of his tongue, and never takes warning. Charlie, I want to know -how it is that you have not turned up at Helena’s house. She hasn’t an -idea that you are in Cairo at all.” - -“Cousin Helena’s house would be a desert to me without you, Cousin -Elma; surely you know that? I felt it so acutely when I came, that I -determined not to show myself there until you were safely arrived. I -strolled round each day and had a talk with the _bowab_ (doorkeeper), -and so learned the news. I knew you were expected last night, and I -meant to present myself in decent time for dinner this evening. I’ll -do so still unless you have any objection.” - -“I only hope,” said Lady Haigh, rather absently, “that you won’t talk -nonsense of this kind to Helena. She won’t understand it, you know.” - -“If you wish it, Cousin Elma, I will confine my conversation -exclusively to Miss Anstruther. I couldn’t venture to talk nonsense to -her, so that ought to keep me safe.” - -“My dear Charlie, nothing but a gag would keep _you_ safe,” said Lady -Haigh, with deep conviction. “And now we are going in here to do some -shopping, and we don’t want any gentlemen to interrupt us, so good-bye -until this evening.” - -He turned away with a rueful look which made both ladies laugh, and -disappeared obediently among the brilliant crowd, Lady Haigh only -waiting until he was out of earshot to inquire anxiously what Cecil -thought of him. - -“He seems rather talkative,” said Cecil, expressing her thought -mildly. “An empty-headed rattle,” was what she said in her own mind, -and Lady Haigh, as if guessing this, took up the cudgels at once on -her cousin’s behalf. - -“Oh, that’s nothing but nervousness, my dear. You would really never -guess that Charlie is simply afraid of ladies, especially young ones. -He talks like that just to keep his courage up. But he is not like -some men, all on the surface. There’s plenty of good stuff behind. -Why, you mightn’t think it, but he can talk eight or nine Eastern -dialects well enough to make the natives think him an oriental, and -there are not many of whom that can be said. I’m afraid all his -cleverness has gone in that direction, instead of helping him on in -the world. Natives always take to him wonderfully, but when you’ve -said that you’ve said all, or nearly all.” - -Even after this, Cecil still thought that Lady Haigh’s fondness for -her cousin made her very kind to his virtues and decidedly blind to -his faults; but she was a little ashamed of this hasty generalisation -after a discussion she had with him that evening, and felt obliged to -confess that there was more in Dr Egerton than she had thought. Dinner -was over, and they were sitting out in the open court of the Boleyns’ -house. Mr Boleyn had been obliged to go out to attend some official -function, and the voices of Lady Haigh and Mrs Boleyn, as they -discussed, more or less amicably, reminiscences of their youth, -mingled pleasantly with the soothing plash of the fountain. A severe -snubbing from Mrs Boleyn during dinner had failed to reduce Charlie to -silence or contrition, but now he seemed to enter into Cecil’s mood, -and waited meekly until she chose to speak. To Cecil, lying back in -her chair in a bower of strange creepers and flowering-shrubs, -watching the moonlight as it crept over the walls of the house and the -more distant minarets of a mosque a little way off, it seemed almost -sacrilege to talk. But she awoke at last to the fact that she was not -doing her duty by her companion, and reluctantly broke the delightful -silence by the only remark which would come into her mind. - -“Isn’t it lovely?” she asked, softly, and Charlie awoke out of a -reverie, and made haste to answer that it was heavenly. - -“I have longed for this all my life,” said Cecil, “and Lady Haigh says -that Baghdad will be even better.” - -“Better? in what way?” asked Charlie. - -“More Eastern, you know,” said Cecil, “but I can’t imagine anything -more perfect than this.” - -“I see that you are one of the people who feel the fascination of the -East,” said he. - -“Who could help it?” asked Cecil. “It is a fascination, there is no -other word for it. Kingsley says that a longing for the West is bound -up in the hearts of men, but I think that in this age of the world the -reverse is true. I daresay if I had ever been in America it would be -different; but now it seems to me that all the romance is gone from -the West, and that it is all big towns, and gold-mines, and wonderful -inventions, and rush. The East seems so mysterious and reposeful, so -old, too, and so picturesque.” - -“And yet,” said Charlie, “you want to change it all, and import into -it the newest ideas in religions and the latest Yankee culture. You -would like all those mysterious veiled women, with the beautiful eyes, -whom you saw to-day, to be turned into learned ladies in tweed frocks -and hard hats, with spectacles and short hair.” - -“No, indeed,” said Cecil, “that is not my ideal at all. A modification -of their own style of dress would be much more suitable to them than a -bad copy of ours. And they couldn’t all be learned, but they all ought -to know a good deal more than they can at present, poor things! If -they were only better educated, it would be much easier to introduce -reforms Denarien Bey says that most of Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s plans are -thwarted by his harem.” - -Charlie groaned. “I beg your pardon, Miss Anstruther,” he said, “but -my feelings were too much for me. An Eastern I can respect, a European -I can pity, but a Europeanised, Europeanising Turk like Ahmed Khémi I -can only detest.” - -“I can’t hear my employer spoken against in that way,” said Cecil. - -“Your employer? So he is. Well, Miss Anstruther, I can forgive him -anything, since he is bringing you to Baghdad.” - -Cecil frowned. “I really cannot imagine,” she said, severely, “how a -person like yourself, who admires quiet so intensely, can talk so -much.” - -“That is the fault of the two natures in me,” said Charlie, gravely, -though he was inwardly shaking with laughter over this amazing snub. -“As a European, I am bound to talk and go on like other people, to be -feverishly busy, and if I have no work of my own, to hunt up other -people’s and set them at it. Then I get sick of it all, and go off and -become an Eastern. Perfect idleness is then my highest idea of -happiness, and I am quite content to sit for a whole day in the -tent-door with an Arab sheikh, exchanging platitudes on the -inevitability of the decrees of fate, at intervals of half an hour.” - -“But have you ever tried that?” asked Cecil, laughing. - -“Tried it? I do it periodically, whenever I can get hold of a -sufficiently unsophisticated sheikh. It doesn’t do to go to the same -people twice. They always find out somehow afterwards who you really -are, and spot you the next time. But the desert life is wonderful, -simply wonderful! The mere thought of it makes me long to go out there -and begin it again this moment. It is so free and irregular. You pass -from tremendous exertion to absolute idleness.” - -“And while you are idle the poor women do all the work,” interrupted -Cecil, unkindly. - -“Yes, that is where Eastern and Western notions clash,” said Charlie. -“There must be some drawbacks even to desert life, and one scarcely -feels called upon to go about lecturing to the Arabs on the proper -treatment of their wives.” He looked at Cecil mischievously, but she -declined to be drawn into an argument on the subject of women’s -rights, and asked-- - -“Have you ever spent a really long time in the desert?” - -“That depends on what you consider a long time,” he answered. “When I -was in Persia I went with a caravan of pilgrims from Resht to Kerbela, -which took some time, and a good part of the way lay through the -desert. Of course the pilgrims were not always the most delightful of -fellow-travellers, and one couldn’t help objecting very strongly to -the companionship of the dead bodies which were carried along slung on -mules to be buried at Kerbela. It was rather wearing, too, to have to -be on your guard the whole time lest you should betray yourself, for -the pilgrims are not particular, and would have torn you to pieces as -soon as look at you. But it was great fun, all the same. There was -pleasure even in the risk, and then it’s not many Europeans that get -the chance of seeing the holy places. All that, and the desert as -well.” - -“But I don’t understand,” said Cecil. “Do you mean that you pretended -to be a Mohammedan?” - -“Yes,” answered Charlie, smiling. “I assure you that I am not one -really, Miss Anstruther.” - -“I don’t see that that makes it any better,” said Cecil. “You mean -that you dressed up and went through all the ceremonies just as if you -had been a Mohammedan, and said all the prayers, and never meant it? -Of course they are wrong, but they believe in their religion, and it -can’t make it right for us to do things of that kind. Besides, for you -it was acting a lie.” - -“Well, I don’t know. It never struck me in that light,” said Charlie. -“I’m afraid I looked upon it as part of the joke, Miss Anstruther. -Well, perhaps not of the joke--as part of what had to be gone through -to ensure success. You see, I had an object. I was studying the -dissemination of cholera by means of these caravans of pilgrims, and I -wanted to do it thoroughly, so I thought I would go in for the whole -thing. But I might perhaps have done it and stopped short of that. -I’ll remember another time.” - -“Charles,” said Mrs Boleyn’s voice, “perhaps you are not aware of the -lateness of the hour;” and after this delicate hint, Charlie took his -departure. During the remainder of their stay in Cairo, he made a -point of appearing at unexpected times, and helping the travellers to -organise expeditions to the Pyramids and other points of interest, but -he turned a deaf ear to Lady Haigh’s hint that he ought to volunteer -to come and take up his quarters at the Boleyns’, and at this they -could scarcely wonder. Before the end of their stay, Cecil, though -declaring emphatically that she was not in the least tired of Cairo, -began to display great eagerness to reach Baghdad, and Lady Haigh made -no pretence of disguising her desire to do the same. - -“Helena and I agree better apart, my dear,” she explained frankly to -Cecil. “One really can’t quarrel much in letters, but when we are -together we can’t do anything else.” - -This was already sufficiently obvious, and it is probable that no one, -unless perhaps Mr Boleyn, was sorry when the time came for the -travellers to journey to Port Said, there to resume their interrupted -voyage. Lady Haigh and Cecil, with their two maids, and Dr Egerton, -with his Armenian boy Hanna, made an imposing party, and excited no -small amount of curiosity and speculation in the minds of the -passengers on board the P. & O. boat. Lady Haigh was never a woman to -do things by halves, and from the moment that she came on board she -took by sheer force of character the place she felt was her right, -although in the present case it was conceded to her without opposition -as soon as it was known who she was. - -“Have you noticed,” said Charlie Egerton to Cecil, one night in the -Red Sea, “that my dear cousin is perceptibly growing taller and more -imposing in appearance? Her foot is on her native heath now. This side -of Suez we are under the beneficent sway of the Indian Government, and -her position is assured, whereas at home she might have been anybody -or nobody. You will observe the majesty of her demeanour increase -continually, until, when she reaches Baghdad, you will recognise in -her every gesture that she represents the Queen-Empress.” - -“But surely that is Sir Dugald’s business?” laughed Cecil. - -“Sir Dugald can’t do everything. He can’t render the Um-ul-Pasha and -the other ladies at the Palace the civilities which are imperatively -due to them, and he can’t conciliate or madden the ladies of the -European colony by delicately adjusted hospitalities as she can. If I -may say so, Cousin Elma represents the social half of her most -gracious Majesty, and Sir Dugald, the Balio Bey as they call him, the -administrative half.” - -“And which is the more important?” asked Cecil. - -“Too hard. Ask me another,” said Charlie. - -“Well, which of them rules the other?” asked Cecil. - -“That is a delicate point,” returned Charlie, “and opinions naturally -differ; but if you ask me, I should say that Sir Dugald does it in -reality, but that Cousin Elma thinks she does, and so both are -satisfied.” - -“Well, I think I should prefer it the other way,” said Cecil, -meditatively, and Charlie laughed. - -“That is exactly what I should have imagined,” he said. “But, joking -apart, you can see that others consider that Cousin Elma has a right -to think a good deal of herself. Look at the people here, for -instance. Happily, we have no very big-wigs on board, or there might -be trouble. In any case, Cousin Elma, as the wife of a major-general, -would carry things with a pretty high hand among the army set, but -there would be difficulty with the wives of the bigger civilians. But -it’s all right with them too now, because Sir Dugald is a political. -They know their duty too well to be unpleasant, and besides, it is -quite on the cards that Sir Dugald might be useful to any of them any -day, if it was desired to find a nice out-of-the-way berth for some -unfortunate relative who had fooled away his chances, as Sir Dugald -sympathetically remarked to me was my case, the only time I saw him.” - -If Charlie expected an indignant contradiction, he was disappointed. -Cecil looked away over the sea, and smiled involuntarily. - -“I was wondering whether you had talked away your chances,” she said, -for they were on sufficiently intimate terms now to allow of little -hits like this. - -“That’s exactly what I did do,” he said. “You may be surprised to hear -it, Miss Anstruther, but I have a very inconvenient conscience, -especially with regard to the things which other people leave undone. -They say that in England abuses are good things on the whole, because -people get up a separate society for the removal of each one, and this -affords occupation to many deserving persons; but in the East they’re -good for a man to come to grief over, and nothing more. If you will -only let things alone you’re all right, but if you make a fuss it’s -like fretting your heart out against a stone wall. Why, in my last -district--my last failure, if you please--I found there was cholera -brewing. I have studied the subject particularly, as I think I have -mentioned to you before, but because I could see a little further than -the rest of them they called me faddy and an alarmist. I told them -what measures ought to be taken, but the man above me, pig-headed old -brute! squashed all my representations. If ever a man deserved to be -carried off by cholera, that fellow did. At last the cholera came, and -I wrote him a letter that he had to attend to. The precautions I had -recommended were taken--it was too late, naturally, but we checked the -thing before it had gone very far--and I was recommended to resign. -Insubordination and so on, of course.” - -“But were you obliged to be insubordinate?” Cecil ventured to ask. - -“No, it was too late, like the precautions. He couldn’t pretend to -disregard the cholera, but I had to relieve my mind.” - -“That was a great pity,” said Cecil, and would say no more. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - A PERIOD OF PROBATION. - -At Karachi there came the first interruption to the smoothness which -had hitherto marked the journey. Lady Haigh had expected to be met at -this point by the gunboat which was under Sir Dugald’s orders, and was -generally occupied in patrolling the Shat-el-Arab and the Persian Gulf -for the protection of British interests, and she had intended to make -a triumphal voyage and entry into Baghdad by its means. But instead of -the gunboat there came a telegram from Sir Dugald to say that the -services of the _Nausicaa_ were imperatively required in the opposite -direction, and that the travellers must therefore come on in the -ordinary way. Unfortunately, however, they had missed the regular -steamer to Basra, and Lady Haigh, who had developed an extraordinary -desire to have the journey over, insisted that they should take -passage on another that happened to be starting. Charlie Egerton -protested loudly against this, declaring that he knew what those -wretched coasters were like--ramshackle old things, creeping along and -touching at all sorts of unheard-of ports, and staying for no one knew -how long. They would probably reach Basra not a day sooner than if -they had waited for the next steamer; and if they were fated to lose -time on the journey, why not spend it at Karachi, and take the -opportunity of showing Miss Anstruther a little of India? But here -Lady Haigh looked at him with mingled sorrow and impatience, and -simply reiterated her determination to press on. - -The voyage on the coasting steamer was a new experience to Cecil. The -vessel was old, the cargo mixed, the crew also mixed--in fact, -everything was mixed but the society, and that was extremely select, -since it was confined to their own party. The captain and mate, -overawed by the presence of two ladies on board, withdrew themselves -as much as possible from the cabin, though they fraternised with -Charlie, as every one did, when they could get him alone. Day after -day the vessel steamed past the same low shores, with coral-reefs -stretching out to sea, and ranges of low hills in the distance behind. -Several times, during the first part of the voyage, she touched at -queer little towns of square, white, flat-roofed houses, with high -towers, where the inhabitants could catch what wind there was, rising -up among the feathery date-palms. There were Englishmen at all these -places--telegraph officials, clerks, and agents--who talked -Anglo-Indian slang, and did their best to render life endurable by all -manner of Indian expedients. After this there was a considerable -stretch of coast without any port, and the captain and mate developed -an inclination to take things easily and to let the ship look after -herself. The first result of this was that the steamer ran ashore one -night, taking the ground quite quietly and gently on a reef connected -with an archipelago of small islands. The captain blamed the mate, -whose watch on deck it was; the mate blamed the captain, who knew -these waters better than he did; and both united in blaming the -steersman, the charts, and the compass. The blame having been thus -equitably distributed, the belligerents agreed to bury the hatchet and -try and get the ship off; and as it appeared to be necessary to shift -the cargo for this purpose, tents were constructed for the passengers -on the nearest island. To these they were very glad to retreat, for -the ship had heeled over to such a degree that the floor of the cabins -was a steep slope, at the foot of which everything from the other side -of the room gradually collected. - -Here, then, on this nameless island, with its palm-trees and its -spring of water, were all the materials for a latter-day idyll. A -shipwreck, a desert island, a prolonged picnic, everything was -complete, and yet one or two things spoilt it altogether, so that the -episode would scarcely be worth mentioning save to show how Lady -Haigh’s schemes went wrong. Charlie did not fail to remind her that he -had counselled her to wait at Karachi, and pointed out that she, at -any rate, would have been much more comfortable there. Their desert -island was so far complete that there was even a likelihood of pirates -in its neighbourhood, although Cecil, who had a robust and healthy -faith in the past exploits of the British navy, and in the _Pax -Britannica_ established in Indian waters at this period of the -century, could never be brought to believe that Charlie was doing more -than trying to frighten her when he mentioned them. The greatest -drawback to the place was its extreme smallness. There could be no -exciting explorations, journeys made in single file through dense -forests right into the heart of the island, because there was no -forest and so very little island. There could be no hope of -discovering volcanoes, caves, traces of previous inhabitants, wild -beasts, or any other commonplaces of desert-island travel, because -there was no room for them. If Lady Haigh was in her tent and wanted -Cecil, she knew that she must be either sitting in the shade outside, -or standing under the palm-trees looking out to sea, for there was -nowhere else. Again, there were no hardships--not even the semblance -of any. The ladies were not so much as obliged to make their own beds, -for, besides their two maids, there was one of the ship’s stewards, a -Zanzibari boy, who was always on shore at their service. On board this -luckless youth was perpetually falling from the rigging or into the -hold, and he was sent on land to keep him from doing any more damage -to himself or to other people. No doubt it would be pretty and idyllic -to describe how Charlie Egerton picked up sticks and lighted the fire -in order that Cecil might prepare the breakfast, but it would not be -true; for, in the first place, there were no sticks, but a portable -stove brought from the vessel, which burned petroleum; and, in the -second place, the ship’s cook was still responsible for the meals. In -fine, this was a shipwreck with all the modern improvements. - -Perhaps it was this fact which rendered the relations of the castaways -different from those usually observed under such circumstances. The -crew did not go off in the boats, abandoning the vessel and the -passengers, nor did they broach the rum-casks. They worked as hard and -were as obliging and respectful as before, and brought queer fishes -and shells for the ladies to see when they found them. When the -captain and mate walked along the reef at night to what was still -called the “cabin dinner,” they still ate in silence, and when the -meal was over, the mate felt it his duty at once to go and see what -the men were doing, and when he did not come back, the captain -invariably went to see what was keeping him, and did not come back -either. As for the men, they appeared in great force on Sunday -evening, when hymns were to be sung, and again one week-day, when a -concert was got up after work was over, the sailors in their clean -clothes, with very shiny faces and very smooth hair, and the Lascars -in gorgeous raiment of all the colours of the rainbow, but otherwise -the passengers saw less of them than they had done on shipboard. - -The archipelago to which the desert island belonged was not all -uninhabited. There were two good-sized islands in it which supported a -considerable population, and the castaways made two expeditions to the -larger of these. The people were all bigoted Moslems, who testified -extreme horror at the sight of the unveiled faces of Lady Haigh and -Cecil, and regarded the whole party with feelings of lively -disapprobation. Their own women were wrapped up from top to toe -whenever they ventured out of doors, and their faces were additionally -protected by a thick horse-hair mask, so that it is possible that it -was the discomfort of this arrangement which made the men fear a -domestic rebellion as the result of the visit of the Frangi ladies. -For the rest, the islanders lived a good deal on fish, and apparently -also threw away a good deal, and dried a considerable quantity for -future consumption, which made their streets unpleasantly odoriferous, -and there were few attractions in their surroundings to counterbalance -this defect, until, in extending the area of their observations, Cecil -and Charlie made a great discovery. Lying among the hills which backed -the little town was a valley filled with prehistoric ruins, and beyond -this again an ancient cemetery. To Cecil this find was as a -trumpet-call to utilise her detention in a way which would command the -gratitude of the learned world by demonstrating, possibly finally, the -real origin of the Phœnicians, and Charlie required little persuasion -to induce him to help her. Accordingly, they returned to the island -the next day, prepared for business. Photography was not practised -then as it is now, but Cecil intended to sketch the ruins, and Charlie -was to hire natives to begin excavations under his direction. -Unfortunately, these proceedings did not meet the views of the -inhabitants. To them it appeared certain that the strangers were going -to search for hidden treasure, with the necessary result of exposing -the island to the wrath of the defrauded ghostly guardians of the -spoil, and they expressed their dissent so strongly that the baffled -explorers were thankful to be able to return to their boat in safety, -the people hurling maledictions and more substantial missiles after -them. This is the reason why, so far as Cecil is concerned, the -Phœnician problem remains still unsolved. - -“I could soon make friends with those island fellows if I had them by -myself,” remarked Charlie as they rowed away, with rather a wistful -look back at the shore. - -“But, my dear boy, why don’t you, then?” cried Lady Haigh, with marked -inhospitality. “Go over by yourself and live among them until we get -the ship off. We could easily let you know when we were ready to -start, and we should get on quite well without you.” - -“Yes, do go if you would rather,” said Cecil. - -“It’s likely, isn’t it?” was his sole reply, and no more was said. -Under ordinary circumstances, Lady Haigh felt sure, he would have been -off to those islanders for a week or a month, even though it had -involved the sacrifice of all his interests in life, and the fact that -he did not succumb to their attractions now showed that there was some -very potent influence at work to detain him. What that influence was, -Lady Haigh had no difficulty in guessing. Charlie’s behaviour as his -cousin’s escort had been most exemplary, but she did not flatter -herself that it was her society he sought. Charlie could never have -been anything but a gentleman, but the assiduous way in which he had -attended upon Cecil and herself since they had left Cairo bespoke -something more than mere politeness. He had found out the way to catch -Cecil’s attention now, and he used it. He was full of the most -enthralling anecdotes and stories, narratives of his own adventures, -and accounts of the queer people he had met in his wanderings, and he -proved that his tales were as potent to interest a graduate of London -University as a knot of listeners in a Cairo coffee-house. It was he -who, by his extraordinary yarns, whiled away the long days on the -island; and they were very long sometimes, for both ladies were -anxious to reach their journey’s end, and chafed somewhat at the -enforced detention. Happily there was no fear that the interruption to -their voyage would cause anxiety to their friends, for the ways of the -coasting steamers were known to be so erratic that no one would think -of theirs as missing for a long time, and by that time they would -probably have been picked up by the next regular steamer from Karachi; -but to Cecil, who was nervously anxious to get to her work, the delay -was a weary one. Under these circumstances Charlie’s power of -discoursing for hours together came as a great relief. Cecil laughed -at him in public, and in private teased him occasionally, in a -dignified way, about his extraordinary flow of conversation; and yet -felt, though she never confessed it to herself, that Baghdad would not -be quite the land of exile she had pictured it, and endured the long -delay very philosophically on the whole. - -“I really think that Azim Bey will be grown up by the time I reach -Baghdad,” she said one day, when the crew had been patiently shifting -and reshifting the cargo for some time without producing any -perceptible effect on the ship’s position. - -“Are you afraid of getting out of practice, Miss Anstruther?” inquired -Charlie. “Because I shouldn’t a bit mind your keeping your hand in by -teaching me a little. We could get up a stunning schoolroom by putting -one of those flat rocks for a blackboard, and you could instil some -mental philosophy and moral science into me. They never could make me -learn any when I was a boy, and all I’ve picked up since is entirely -practical and quite contrary to all received rules, so that I should -be glad to learn how to think properly.” - -“Nonsense, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, wagging her head wisely; “Miss -Anstruther is anxious to get to her proper work, and doesn’t want to -waste her time on you. If you really want to please her, help the men -to get the ship off, so that we can go on again.” - -“Cruel, cruel woman!” he cried. “No sentiment about Cousin Elma, is -there, Miss Anstruther? Well, after that, if my humble efforts can do -anything, we shall not be here much longer, though the mate did remark -airily, when I offered to help, that they didn’t want any landsmen -meddling about. But at any rate, if we wait two or three months -longer, we must be picked up by the mail.” - -As it happened, the mail came in sight that very evening, and at once -hove to in answer to the signals from the stranded ship. By the united -efforts of the two crews the coaster was got off, and at length -proceeded on her way, to the great joy of the majority of her -passengers. With Charlie Egerton, however, it was otherwise, for not -only did he regret the pleasant time which was past, but there was a -look in Lady Haigh’s eye now and then which betokened a lecture in -store, and as he guessed what would be the subject of this, he made it -his constant endeavour to avoid it. - -“I really feel quite sorry to leave our island now, don’t you, Lady -Haigh?” asked Cecil, as they stood on deck, watching the tops of the -palm-trees disappear beneath the horizon. “Our life there has been so -quiet, a sort of pause between our hurry in starting and the new work -to which we are going.” - -“Nonsense, my dear Cecil; you are just like a cat. You can’t bear to -be moved,” said Lady Haigh, with more force than politeness. “There -are some people who would grow sentimental on leaving a prison, if -they had only been there long enough.” - -Such impatience was so rare with Lady Haigh that Cecil sank into an -awed silence, and sentimentalised no more over the island. The second -part of the voyage proved to be as safe and pleasant as the first part -had been disastrous, and the captain was merciful enough to make only -short halts at Bushire and Mohammerah. When Basra was reached, it was -found that the services of the gunboat were not yet available, and as -there was little in the town, half-busy and half-ruinous, to allure to -a longer stay, Lady Haigh swallowed her pride sufficiently to let -Charlie take passage for the party in one of the steamers plying to -Baghdad. They were again the only passengers, and were accorded a sort -of semi-royal honour which amused the two younger members of the party -very much, but which seemed only natural to Lady Haigh. The river -voyage was very pleasant, especially when they left behind the -Shat-el-Arab, which was scarcely to be distinguished from the sea, and -entered the Tigris. Villages half hidden in forests of palm, long rows -of black Bedouin tents pitched in the more open spaces, and the people -themselves, wild and suspicious enough, but rudely prosperous and in a -way well-dressed, afforded constant interest to Cecil. Even better was -the distant view of the mountains of Luristan, which was obtained -about mid-way in the journey, the lofty summits covered with perpetual -snow towering above the nearer expanse of feathery green and the -swiftly flowing river at its foot. Cecil sat so long trying in vain to -reproduce in a sketch the full effect of the contrast that she worked -on into the twilight, and was forced at last to desist with a -headache. Upon discovering this fact, Charlie showed himself so -assiduous in moving her deck-chair about for her, and in trying to -arrange her cushions more comfortably, that the sight seemed to -irritate Lady Haigh. - -“My dear,” she said at last to Cecil, “you will never be better on -deck here. You are tired out. Go to bed at once, and then you will -wake up fresh and well to-morrow.” - -Cecil smiled an assent, and after wishing the others good night, -disappeared into her cabin. Lady Haigh waited impatiently until she -had been gone some little time. - -“Charlie,” she said at last, in a low voice, “I want to speak to you.” - -“Yes, Cousin Elma?” he made answer, without any suspicious show of -alacrity. “What a start you gave me, though! I was thinking.” - -“What about?” asked Lady Haigh, sharply. Then, as his eyes -involuntarily sought the direction in which Cecil had disappeared, -“The usual subject, I suppose? Charlie, I always foretold that when -you did fall in love you would go in very far indeed, but I didn’t -guess how far it would be. This is what comes of not caring for -ladies’ society.” - -“Exactly. One lady is enough for me,” he returned--“present company -always excepted, Cousin Elma, of course. But seriously, did you ever -know any one like Miss Anstruther?” - -“Now we are well launched into the subject on which I wished to speak -to you,” said Lady Haigh. “Allow me, Charlie, as being in a certain -sense Miss Anstruther’s guardian, to ask you your intentions?” - -“To speak to her to-morrow if I can only get her alone, and marry her -as soon as possible, if she will have me,” he replied, promptly. - -“So I thought. Well, Charlie, all I have to say is that you are to do -nothing of the kind, however often you may manage to see her alone.” - -“Really, Cousin Elma, I believe that Miss Anstruther is of age, and -capable of managing her own affairs.” - -“Don’t put on that high and mighty manner, Charlie. I am advising you -for your good and hers. Do you know anything of the footing on which -Miss Anstruther stands here?” - -“Once or twice she has mentioned some sort of agreement to remain a -certain time, but I imagine it would not be difficult to get that set -aside.” - -“My dear boy, that is all you know about it! Miss Anstruther is -solemnly pledged to remain in this situation for two years. In some -sort of way, I am her security for doing so. Now, I ask you, as an -honourable man, would you be acting rightly if you induced her to -break this agreement, or could you respect her if she showed herself -willing to break it in order to marry a man of whose very existence -she was not aware when she signed it?” - -“Very well, Cousin Elma. I will be satisfied with a two years’ -engagement, then.” - -“You will have nothing of the sort with which to be satisfied, -Charlie. I will not allow you to speak to Miss Anstruther until the -two years are over. Then, if you like, you can say what you want to -say before she signs the second agreement to serve for three years -more. I will leave the matter in her hands then, and you shall have -your chance, but you are not to speak to her now.” - -“And may I ask the reason of this extraordinary prohibition?” - -Charlie’s tone was dogged and haughty, but Lady Haigh answered -unflinchingly. - -“Consider, my dear boy. Let us suppose first that Cecil accepts you. -You know that she is in a very delicate position, and will need in any -case to walk very warily. You know what the Baghdadis are, you know -the miserable scandals which circulate so wonderfully among the -foreign colony in such a town as this. To have her name connected with -yours would at once destroy all the poor girl’s chances of success, -while afterwards her position will be more assured and she will know -better what she is doing. Leave her in peace for these two years, -Charlie; surely it is not such a very great thing to do for her sake? -It is important for her to obtain her salary undiminished, too. You -will see her once a-week at least, so you will know that she is well -and happy, but don’t disturb her in her work by trying to make her -fond of you.” - -“What next?” cried Charlie. “But you know she might refuse me, Cousin -Elma. What then?” - -“I think it is most probable that she would. She takes an interest in -you, Charlie, but I don’t believe she cares for you at all in the way -you want. Well, you know that she is to spend Sunday at the Residency -whenever she is at Baghdad. Now do you think that she would find any -peace and comfort in her Sundays if she were always obliged to meet a -rejected lover with reproachful eyes? You would make her life a burden -to her.” - -“I might go away,” he murmured, dolefully enough, for it is one thing -to despair of your own chances, and quite another to have them -pronounced hopeless by some one else. - -“Yes; and sacrifice your prospects irretrievably just as Sir Dugald -has got you this post, in the hope that you would do better here with -him than you have hitherto. I suppose you would intend such a move as -a gentle intimation to poor Miss Anstruther that your ruin lay at her -door? No, don’t be furious, my dear boy; I only say it looks like it. -You would go away with some of those wild Arabs or Kurds, I presume; -but would that be much better than living a civilised life at Baghdad, -and seeing Cecil every Sunday?” - -“You are too horribly practical and calculating, Cousin Elma. Not to -speak to her for two years is dreadful. How can I stand it?” - -“It’s better than being refused, at any rate,” said Lady Haigh. “But -you know, Charlie, I can’t promise that she will listen to you then, -even if she has learnt to care for you. She is a very conscientious -girl, and quite feels, I believe, that she has a special mission -here.” - -“Hang missions!” cried Charlie, rebelliously. “Pretty girls have no -business with them. Why can’t they leave them to ugly old women?” - -“Like myself, I suppose?” said Lady Haigh. “Thank you, Charlie--no, -don’t apologise. Well, you see if Cecil believes that she has a -mission to finish Azim Bey’s education, she will probably feel bound -to continue it for the five years specified. If she thinks it her -duty, I believe she will do it.” - -“So do I,” said Charlie, seriously. “I had rather not be weighed in -the scale against Miss Anstruther’s duty. I’m afraid I should go to -the wall. But five years, Cousin Elma! Do you know how old I shall be -then?” - -“Nonsense!” cried Lady Haigh; “what’s five years at your time of life? -It’s we old people who can’t spare it. Why, anything may happen in -five years.” - -A good deal was to happen, more than either Charlie or Lady Haigh -anticipated. - -“Well,” said Charlie, “at least I shall see her once a-week. I must -live on that, I suppose, and endure the rest of my time. Now, Cousin -Elma, I have listened to you a good deal, so you must just listen to -me a moment. Did you ever know a girl like her, so sweet and gentle, -and so awfully good? I believe she could do anything she liked with -me, and she doesn’t see it a bit. You know what I mean; she doesn’t -seem to understand compliments, she always wants to talk sense. And -the worst of it is, that whatever I say now she never thinks I’m in -earnest. I know it’s my fault; you’ve told me over and over again not -to talk so fast, but I can’t help it when--well, when I particularly -want to make a good impression, you know, and now she won’t take me -seriously. And I don’t want her to think that I am always playing the -fool,--what can I do?” - -“If you ask me,” said Lady Haigh, “I think it is a very good thing, -for your own sake, that you have now two years in which to show Cecil -that you really are in earnest. She has always taken life very -seriously, so that you are rather a new experience to her, you see; -but I think she is beginning to understand you better, if that is any -comfort to you.” - -“Thanks awfully, Cousin Elma. I know it’s all my own fault. You -mustn’t think I want to reflect on her. She’s unique, but she’s -absolutely perfect.” - -“Oh, Charlie, Charlie, you are a sad fellow!” cried Lady Haigh. “Now, -good night.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - “IN INMOST BAGDAT.” - -“My last day of this!” said Charlie to himself the next morning, as -he went on deck. It was a sad thought, and he tried hard to be duly -miserable, but the morning was so fine and the air so clear that he -could not help whistling, in a sort of sympathy with nature; and then -Cecil came on deck, looking as bright and fresh as the day, her -headache all gone, and it became his duty to invite her to join him in -a promenade, since the morning was a little chilly. It was impossible -to feel melancholy long under such circumstances, and he soon found -himself rattling away in his usual style, and predicting all kinds of -delightful times at Baghdad. Lady Haigh, having once declared her -pleasure, had perfect confidence in Charlie’s sense of honour, and was -even a little sorry for him, and therefore she did not declare that -she and Cecil were busy, and send him off to talk to the captain, a -perverse habit which she had developed of late, but allowed him to -remain beside her, and instruct Cecil in the habits and folk-lore of -the wild tribes on the river-banks. Thus the day passed pleasantly -until, towards evening, Cecil, who was looking ahead, uttered a cry of -delight as the steamer swung round a bend in the river. Before them -lay Baghdad, bathed in the sunset light, which brought out in all -their brilliance the green and turquoise hues of the tiles with which -the domes of the mosques were inlaid, and the gilded casing of the -minarets; while other buildings, ordinarily most prosaic and unlovely, -looked mysterious and beautiful rising from the sea of foliage which -everywhere surrounded them. Palm, orange, and pomegranate trees filled -the gardens which spread over the flat country as far as eye could -reach, and even the ruined walls of the city, emerging here and there -from the expanse of green, lost their meanness and looked imposing. - -“This is really Baghdad!” said Cecil, with a sigh of contentment. - -“And I am sure you are longing to walk through the enchanted streets,” -said Charlie. - -“Of course,” said Cecil. “When do we land, Lady Haigh? Is it soon?” - -“Naturally, the steamer will stop opposite the Residency for us to -land,” said Lady Haigh with dignity. “Don’t worry about your things, -my dear child. Um Yusuf will see to them, and if you really like to -look at Baghdad, it’s a pity you shouldn’t.” - -They had reached the city now, and were passing between terraced -gardens, with elaborate gateways leading to the water, and queer, -brightly-painted boats bobbing about in the current. There were -fanciful summer-houses in some of the gardens, and Cecil strained her -eyes to catch a glimpse of the veiled beauties who ought to be -reclining gracefully in the shade. Then came a more crowded quarter, -with old mansions of brown brick overhanging the water, coffee-houses -with highly decorated gables and terraces where companies of men were -sitting smoking and talking, newer-looking dwellings with latticed -balconies, and trees--trees everywhere. Cecil gazed on in breathless -admiration, but her raptures were suddenly interrupted. - -“There’s the dear old rag!” cried Lady Haigh, in an ecstasy of mingled -patriotism and affection, and Charlie Egerton took off his hat to the -Union-Jack which floated over the Residency. Cecil awoke from her -dream with a start. The steamer was slowing down as it approached a -great house, standing at the end of a long garden, with a terrace -overlooking the water, and an avenue of aged orange-trees. The flag -scarcely fluttered in the light breeze, and all the garden looked -dreamlike and peaceful. Only on the terrace was there a certain amount -of bustle, and presently a boat put forth from the steps and shot -towards the steamer. From the pomp and circumstance which -characterised this embarkation, Cecil divined that the boat carried -Sir Dugald Haigh, and she began to feel rather nervous. It would be -idle to deny that Charlie’s conversation had infected her with a -certain amount of prejudice against her Majesty’s Consul-General at -Baghdad. For this very reason she had resolved to meet him with an -exaggeratedly open mind, and to look very carefully for his good -points. After all, Lady Haigh’s early devotion and long affection -ought to weigh more than Dr Egerton’s dislike, especially since he was -so notoriously addicted to disagreeing with his superiors. - -With this in her mind, Cecil stood observant in the background while -Sir Dugald gained the deck and greeted his wife. She saw a thin, -almost insignificant-looking man, with a skin like parchment, and a -small, carefully-trimmed grey moustache. In his dress there was -visible a precision so extreme as almost to appear affectation, and -his manners were the perfection of elaborate politeness. Sir Dugald -Haigh at Baghdad was eminently the right man in the right place. The -Indian authorities who appointed him knew that he would never wantonly -or ignorantly outrage the prejudices nor shock the susceptibilities of -the most jealous and sensitive oriental; but they knew also, and -rejoiced in the knowledge, that under the silken glove the iron hand -was always ready. Sir Dugald could insist and threaten when it was -necessary--nay, he could even bluster, in a dignified and most -effective way--and the Pashas and Sheikhs with whom he had to deal -knew that, when he had once put his foot down, they might as well try -to shake the Great Pyramid as to move him. - -Something of all this Cecil read in her cursory observation of him, -but she had only time to hear Charlie’s muttered remark, “The very -incarnation of red tape!” before she found herself summoned forward by -Lady Haigh. - -“And this is Miss Anstruther!” said Sir Dugald, as he bowed and shook -hands. There was nothing offensive about the remark--it expressed a -kindly interest, possibly admiration--but Cecil saw Sir Dugald raise -his eyebrows very slightly as he uttered it. Before long she was to -learn to watch his eyebrows narrowly, for they were the most -expressive feature of his face, betraying all the feelings of worry, -impatience, amusement, or concern, which the rest of his visage was -under much too good control to show. Now they said, “Far too young! -Not nearly backbone enough for such a place!” while Sir Dugald’s lips -were saying-- - -“Welcome to Baghdad, Miss Anstruther! It is a long time since we have -had the honour of a young lady’s company at the Residency.” - -Then he greeted Charlie, with a courteous ease of manner, and a kindly -expression of a hope that he had come to stay this time, which made -Cecil decide that if the hope should not be fulfilled, the provocation -would come from Charlie’s side and not from Sir Dugald’s; and then -they went on shore. The Residency proved to be a fine old house, built -round two courtyards, which, as Charlie told Cecil, corresponded to -the account he had given her of the special functions of Sir Dugald -and Lady Haigh, since one was devoted to business and the other to -social purposes. The ground-floor rooms in the family courtyard were -low and dark, but those on the floor above them large and airy, with -broad verandahs supported on curiously carved wooden pillars. Cecil, -casting a hurried glance in at the various doors as Lady Haigh took -her to her room, carried away a confused memory of fretted ceilings -inlaid with coloured marbles, walls panelled with looking-glasses, and -gilded mouldings, and again she sighed with satisfaction. The Baghdad -of good Haroun-al-Raschid had not quite disappeared yet. - -Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Cecil was summoned to -the drawing-room to receive a messenger from the Pasha. This proved to -be Ovannes Effendi, his Excellency’s secretary, a clever-looking young -Armenian with a marvellous gift of tongues. He proffered his -employer’s felicitations on mademoiselle’s safe arrival, inquired -anxiously whether she had an agreeable journey, and concluded by -entreating that she would take up her abode in the Palace at her -earliest convenience. - -“Let me see,” said Lady Haigh--“this is Saturday. We can’t let you go -before Monday morning, Cecil, but you and I will go and pay our -respects to the Palace ladies this afternoon.” - -Having received his answer, Ovannes Effendi retired, after formally -presenting Lady Haigh and Cecil, in the Pasha’s name, with several -trays of fruit and sweetmeats which had been carried after him by a -corresponding number of porters. The idea was so thoroughly oriental -that Cecil forgot the untempting nature of the sweetmeats to a Western -taste, and noted the little attention joyfully in her diary. It was -evident that the Pasha, at any rate, was anxious to do all in his -power to show her that she was a welcome guest; but when they prepared -for their visit to the harem that afternoon, she found that Lady Haigh -entertained distinct misgivings as to their reception by the ladies. - -“It is our duty to pay them a formal call, my dear,” she said, -vigorously completing an elaborate toilet the while. “I have no doubt -that that horrid woman, the Um-ul-Pasha, will give us a bad half-hour, -but it is better that I should be there to help you to face her.” - -To get to the Palace it was necessary to mount ridiculously small -donkeys, which picked their way carefully among the inequalities and -mud-heaps of the narrow winding streets; while a small army of -servants, headed by two gorgeous cavasses in gold-embroidered -liveries, who kept back the crowd with whips, gave the occasion the -dignity which would otherwise have been sorely wanting to it. It was -irritating, if not exactly disappointing, to find on reaching the -Palace that all this grandeur had been wasted, since the answer -returned to their inquiries by the stout negro who kept the door of -the harem, after long colloquies with an invisible maid-servant -within, who was apparently displaying an undue eagerness to catch a -glimpse of the Frangi ladies, was that the Um-ul-Pasha was indisposed, -and that visitors were therefore not received in the harem that day. - -“That is all her spite,” said Lady Haigh, as they picked their way -back to their donkeys. “She is no more ill than I am. If she had been -indisposed this morning, Ovannes Effendi would have known it, and told -us not to come, but now she thinks she has slighted you, and given me -a slap in the face. Very well, Nazleh Khanum, we shall see!” - -But here, just as they were about to mount, Ovannes Effendi overtook -them, and after expressing the Pasha’s sorrow that their trouble -should have been in vain, begged them to honour his Excellency’s poor -abode by deigning to rest for a few minutes, assuring them that his -employer would be much hurt if they did not. On Lady Haigh’s -acquiescence, he ushered them into a large room furnished in European -style, where they found their old acquaintance, Denarien Bey, talking -to a very stout gentleman in a very tight frock-coat and a fez. Lady -Haigh’s salaam warned Cecil that this was Ahmed Khémi Pasha himself, -and she imitated her friend’s reverence as faithfully as she could -when she was brought forward and presented. The Pasha was all -politeness, evidently anxious to atone for his mother’s incivility, -and insisted on sending for coffee and sherbet at once. While the -refreshments were being consumed, he kept up a slow and stately -conversation with Lady Haigh respecting the journey, pausing with -special care to compose each sentence before uttering it. It was -evident that he had had a purpose in view in inviting them in, for -presently he nodded to Denarien Bey, who took up the conversation in -his turn. Lady Haigh told Cecil afterwards that this was because the -Pasha now disliked intensely speaking French, and was by no means a -master of English, which he was yet too proud to speak badly. - -“His Excellency’s heart is much rejoiced by this happy meeting, -mademoiselle,” said Denarien Bey; “since he can now impress upon you -certain cautions which you will find all-important in your new -sphere.” - -“I will do my best to conform to his Excellency’s wishes,” murmured -Cecil, nervously. - -“First, as regards your own position, mademoiselle. You are aware that -the state of public opinion here obliges you and your pupil always to -remain in the harem while you are at the Palace, while yet it is from -the harem that the gravest dangers threaten the life of Azim Bey.” He -glanced rather fearfully at the Pasha as he said this, but meeting -only a nod of acquiescence, went on. “It has therefore been arranged, -mademoiselle, that the quarters occupied by yourself, the Bey, and -your attendants, shall be in a separate courtyard, to which none but -yourselves shall have access. Thus, while technically in the harem, -you will in reality be separated from it, and the door will be guarded -by a negro called Aga Masûd, who was the faithful attendant of the -Bey’s late mother. His special duty will be to prevent the entrance of -emissaries from the harem. It is his Excellency’s most earnest wish -that Azim Bey should never cross the threshold of the harem but in -your charge, and that while there you should never let him out of your -sight. The slaves are not to be trusted.” - -He said this apologetically, and as if in explanation, but Cecil knew -that he was pointing at much more exalted persons than the slaves. It -was the Um-ul-Pasha and his Excellency’s wives who were not to be -trusted with the life of the boy so nearly related to them, and she -began to feel more than ever the great responsibility of her post. -After a few more unimportant remarks, Lady Haigh rose to go, but the -Pasha detained her, begging Cecil also to remain. - -“I have sent for my son,” he said, “and I hear him coming.” - -As he spoke, there appeared in the doorway a small thin boy, looking -like a miniature edition of the Pasha in his long black coat, with his -dark, solemn, old little face surmounted by the usual tasselled cap. -When he saw Cecil, his expression brightened suddenly. - -“_C’est enfin Mdlle. Antaza!_” he cried, in an ecstasy of delight, and -he ran forward and salaamed, raising her hand to her lips. The Pasha -interposed, and reminded him to salute Lady Haigh, which he did, and -then retired behind his father’s chair, watching Cecil all the while -with grave, unchildlike eyes. - -“You will come soon, mademoiselle?” he said entreatingly as they took -their leave. “When my father is busy I have no one now.” - -“Mademoiselle is coming on Monday, Bey,” said Lady Haigh kindly, and -the boy looked somewhat comforted. With his father and Denarien Bey he -escorted the two ladies to the gate, and they rode home quietly, Cecil -pondering over what she had seen of the Pasha and his little son. But -it was strange how completely the Residency was like home to her -already. It seemed to be a bit of England, and when once she had -crossed its threshold again, the Palace and its occupants were like -the fabric of a dream, while Sir Dugald, Charlie Egerton, and one or -two Englishmen who happened to be passing through Baghdad, and were -staying at the Residency, took their places. - -“Well, what do you think of our friend Sir Hector Stubble?” Charlie -asked her that evening, when they were sitting out on the verandah -after dinner. - -“I suppose you mean Sir Dugald,” said Cecil, “and I don’t like the -name. I think Lord Stratford de Redcliffe was a splendid man, and I -never can forgive Grenville Murray for drawing him so unfairly. I -suppose the fact is that he saw him in the light of his own -grievances, just as you look at Sir Dugald through the medium of your -prejudice.” - -“Not a prejudice, Miss Anstruther, honestly not,” said Charlie. “We -are antagonistic by nature, and we rub each other the wrong way -already. You would scarcely think we had had time to have words -together yet, would you?” - -“Already?” said Cecil. “It’s absurd!” - -“Well,” said Charlie, “I told him that the hospital was quite behind -the times, and horribly short of stores, and he as good as refused to -do anything to it.” - -“Possibly,” said Cecil, “he did not relish the stores being demanded -in a your-money-or-your-life sort of tone.” Charlie laughed -uncomfortably. - -“You always contrive to put me in the wrong, Miss Anstruther. The fact -is, he said one ought to be very careful with public money, and that -he was not prepared to sanction the expenditure of any more at -present. Then the prison, it is not in a particularly sanitary -condition----” - -“But that can’t be Sir Dugald’s fault,” objected Cecil. - -“Oh, I don’t mean the town prison; I haven’t been poaching on the -Pasha’s preserves just yet. I mean our private prison here, in the -Residency. Now, Miss Anstruther, don’t say that you will never be able -to dine here again in peace, on account of the shrieks of tortured -victims ringing in your ears in the pauses in the conversation. The -place isn’t so bad as all that. In fact, I daresay it’s a model jail, -as things are here.” - -“And you forget that you are in your beloved unchanging East, where no -one makes any reforms,” said Cecil. “I am very sorry that you have -taken this prejudice against Sir Dugald. I think he is a delightful -man, and so kind.” - -“How could he be otherwise than kind to you?” Charlie wished to know. -“It is to his unfortunate subordinates that he shows his other side.” - -“And I have no doubt they deserve it,” retorted Cecil, crushingly. “I -do hope you will try to get on with him, and not start with the idea -that you are bound to quarrel with him, because you have got on badly -with your superiors before. If you are determined to bring about a -dispute, I suppose it will certainly come, no matter how forbearing -Sir Dugald may be, but that is not a very wise spirit in which to set -to work. Surely you must see it yourself, don’t you? This is really an -excellent chance for you, you know, and Lady Haigh will be dreadfully -disappointed if you throw it away.” - -“Oh, I mean to stick to the place,” said Charlie eagerly, somewhat to -Cecil’s surprise. “I do really intend to stay on, unless I am driven -away. But you must let me have the privilege of telling my woes to -you, Miss Anstruther, and getting a lecture in return. I take to -lectures as a duck takes to water; you ask Cousin Elma.” - -Cecil laughed, and as Lady Haigh came just then to ask her to sing, -she had no more talk with Charlie. The next day was her first Sunday -in Baghdad, the prototype of nearly all her Sundays for five years. -There was an English service, conducted by Mr Schad, the colleague of -Dr Yehudi in his mission-work among the Jews, and Cecil felt that she -had never fully appreciated the beauty of the Liturgy until she heard -it read, with a strong German accent, in this far land. It took her -back to her father’s beautiful church at Whitcliffe, and to the dingy -and ornate edifice in a city street, which she had attended in her -school-days, and it linked her with the services held in both places -to-day. She treasured every hour of that Sunday, which slipped by all -too quickly, and left her to face the duties and responsibilities of -her new position. - -On the Monday morning she dressed herself, with great reluctance, in -her official costume, lamenting that she could not wear European -dress, as she might have done without difficulty in Constantinople or -Smyrna. But, after all, the long loose gown, falling straight from the -shoulders, and only caught in at the waist with a striped sash, would -be very comfortable in the hot weather, though the wide, trailing -sleeves would be dreadfully in the way. What Cecil disliked most in -the costume was the head-dress, a little round cap, with a gauze veil, -which could be brought over the face in case of need, depending from -it behind. To wear this it was necessary that the hair should be -plaited in a number of little tails, and allowed to hang down, since -any arrangement of coils must interfere either with the cap or with -the flow of the veil. For outdoor wear there was provided a huge linen -wrapper, which enveloped the wearer from head to foot, but Cecil had -resolutely refused to don the hideous horse-hair mask worn under this -by the Baghdadi ladies. The absurdity of her appearance so overcame -her while dressing, that she projected a caricature of herself for the -benefit of the children at home; but even then she did not realise the -difficulty of shuffling through the courtyard in her yellow slippers, -and of mounting the donkey which was waiting for her. Lady Haigh had -mercifully got all the gentlemen out of the way; but her own mirth was -contagious, and she and Cecil relapsed into little explosions of -laughter several times in the street. - -Arrived at the Palace, they were conducted to a miniature courtyard, -the buildings around which bore traces of having been lately painted -and done up. The gate occupied the greater part of one side, guarded -by the faithful Masûd, a gigantic and particularly ugly negro. The -rooms on the other three sides were like those at the Residency, low -and mean-looking on the ground-floor, but large and lofty above. - -“The apartments of Azim Bey,” said their guide, a tall Circassian -woman who spoke French, with a wave of her hand towards the rooms on -the right; “the apartments of mademoiselle,” indicating those on the -left; “the Bey Effendi’s study and reception-room,” showing that in -the middle. - -“We will look at your rooms, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, and they mounted -the stairs leading to the verandah. The “apartments” were three in -number, and comprised a bedroom and sitting-room for Cecil, and a -bedroom for Um Yusuf, opening out of her mistress’s. Another staircase -led from the verandah to the roof, which was flat and surrounded by a -parapet, with several orange-trees in great pots to give shade in hot -weather. - -“But you won’t be able to stay up here when it is really hot, Cecil,” -said Lady Haigh, “except just at night. You will have to spend the day -in the cellars. We do it ourselves--every one does in Baghdad--and -it’s not often that the thermometer is more than 88° down there.” - -They descended from the roof and entered the rooms. The bedroom -furniture was evidently a “complete suite,” of the most -highly-polished mahogany, imported from Europe at some trouble and -expense. The things in the sitting-room were of the same style, but -one or two chairs seemed not to have survived the journey, for their -places were filled by a common Windsor arm-chair, and a very ornate -Louis XV. _fauteuil_, with gilded and twisted legs. On a side-table -was a gorgeous gilt clock, which did not go, and the walls were -decorated with fearful oleographs, and one or two theatrical -portraits, which the guide pointed out with great pride. - -“Well, Cecil, my dear,” said Lady Haigh, sitting down in the gilt -chair, while the two servants retired into the verandah. “I think you -will be very comfortable here. I see that they have forgotten one or -two things, but I will send you those from the Residency. I am very -glad that you have Basmeh Kalfa to superintend your little household. -She was head _kalfa_ (which means an upper slave) to Azim Bey’s -mother, so she will look after you well. You will have to be careful -just at first, until you get into the ways of the place. Be sure if -you ever come to the Residency in European dress to put on that sheet -over it. It will pass muster in the streets. And do mind never to go -outside your own courtyard without the sheet on. This place is your -castle, you know, and not even the Pasha dare put his nose in without -your consent. If you should hear rather a commotion at the gate, and -Masûd comes striding along, shouting _Dastûr! Dastûr!_ at the top -of his voice, pull your veil over your face at once. _Dastûr_ means -“custom,” and is the warning that a man is coming. It will probably be -the Pasha coming to see how the Bey is getting on with his lessons, or -some old man who comes to teach him the Koran, but be sure you -remember. And, my dearest child, you must never go anywhere without Um -Yusuf. She must be always with you--in lesson-time, recreation, coming -to us, everything. You must never be impatient, and think she is -spying upon you. It is her duty to keep you always in sight, and she -knows it. And now I must be going. Basmeh Kalfa, I leave Mademoiselle -Antaza and her nurse in your charge. Take care of them.” - -“Upon my head be it, O my lady,” responded Basmeh Kalfa, impassively. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. - -Lady Haigh was gone, and Cecil felt very desolate. Everything seemed -so new and strange, and she was so far removed from every familiar -face, except the severe and respectable one of Um Yusuf, that she felt -almost inclined to sit down and mourn over her isolation, but she had -too much to do. With Um Yusuf’s help she set to work to unpack her -possessions, and speedily found that the proceeding was an object of -interest to the other denizens of the courtyard. Basmeh Kalfa took a -seat on the floor uninvited, and made remarks on the things as they -were lifted out; and Ayesha, Azim Bey’s nurse, who was also a -privileged person, came across from the building opposite, and posted -herself in an advantageous position. Hovering on the verandah were -several black women, the under-servants of the establishment, who had -forsaken their work and come to see the show; and Masûd himself was -hard put to it to restrain his curiosity sufficiently to keep his post -at the gate. None of the interested watchers offered to help in any -way, but all commented audibly on the strange things they saw, and -especially on the books and photographs. They were particularly amazed -and delighted by the transformation effected in the sitting-room with -the help of a hammer and nails, some folding bookshelves, a bracket or -two, and some extra pictures, and it began to look quite habitable to -Cecil herself. There were still two or three large cases containing -the books and school-appliances which had been ordered for Azim Bey to -be unpacked, and she went with Um Yusuf, attended by her admiring -train, to see whether there was any place for their contents in the -room pointed out by Basmeh Kalfa as the Bey’s “study.” Here there was -a raised dais, occupying about half the floor, and covered with a rich -Kurdish carpet, the lower part of the room being matted. On the dais -was the divan, covered with thick silk, and amply furnished with -cushions of various sizes. There were two or three little inlaid -octagonal tables scattered about, but no other furniture, and the -walls were decorated with arabesque designs and inscriptions from the -Koran. To desecrate such a room with prosaic blackboards and raised -maps could not be thought of, and Cecil decided to wait to unpack them -until she could consult her pupil as to their arrangement. - -Azim Bey was absent with his father on an expedition to visit his -married sister at Hillah, the ancient Babylon, and Cecil did not see -him at all that day, so that she and Um Yusuf had tea together in -solitary state. She spent the evening in writing home, describing her -new abode fully for the benefit of her brothers and sisters, and went -to bed early; for although candles were provided, no light was visible -in any of the surrounding buildings, and silence reigned over the -Palace. It seemed very lonely and unsafe, in a strange house, to sleep -in a room with open windows and doors that would not lock; and Um -Yusuf dutifully placed her bed against her mistress’s door, so as to -be able to repel any attempted invasion, but none came. - -The next day Cecil awoke early. It was a fine cool morning, and the -sun was shining brightly, tempting her out of doors. As soon as she -was dressed she went down into the garden, followed by Um Yusuf, to be -greeted by a squeal of delight from her pupil, who rushed to meet her -and presented her with a large and formal bouquet. He had evidently -been tormenting the gardener with questions as to the why and -wherefore of things, for Cecil fancied that she saw an expression of -relief on that functionary’s face as he withdrew discreetly and -precipitately when he saw the veiled figures. Azim Bey walked solemnly -beside his governess for a little way, pointing out the beauties of -the garden, then, with a side-glance up at her face, he stole a little -brown hand into hers and remarked-- - -“You are my mademoiselle, and I know I shall like you. I have had no -one kind to talk to for a whole year, ever since my sister Naimeh -Khanum was married to Said Bey and went to live at Hillah, except my -father, and he is always busy. But you are going to stay here, and you -will tell me everything I want to know. Denarien Bey has told me that -you have many brothers, and you will tell me about them, won’t you? -When shall we begin lessons, mademoiselle?” - -“As soon as you like,” said Cecil, smiling, for it was refreshing to -meet with a boy who looked forward to lessons with pleasure, and then -she unfolded her difficulty with respect to the school furniture. To -her amusement Azim Bey took her doubts as an insult. - -“But yes, mademoiselle, of course I want all the books and maps in my -reception-room. It is to be made to look like a schoolroom; I will -have it exactly like a schoolroom in England. The things shall be -unpacked and put there at once.” - -And he hurried her back to the house, summoned sundry servants, and -set them to work to open and unpack the cases. Cecil expected that he -would offer to help in the work, but he was far too fully conscious of -his rank for that, and sat solemnly on the divan beside her, issuing -his orders. Nor would he allow her to help either, for when she -started up to show the servants by example the proper way of putting -up a blackboard, he desired her peremptorily not to incommode herself, -but to tell him what was wanted and he would direct the servants. At -last, after the expenditure of much breath on the part of Azim Bey, -and some fruitless impatience on that of Cecil, the work was done, and -the walls of the great room decorated with maps and charts and tables. -A large supply of books was neatly arranged on the dais until -bookshelves could be procured, and in the lower part of the room were -placed a regular school-desk and seat for the pupil, and a high desk -and chair for the teacher, together with the blackboard, which Azim -Bey regarded with loving eyes. He wanted to set to work at once, but -Cecil, seeing old Ayesha looking at her distressfully, suggested -mildly that they should breakfast first, since she had only had a cup -of tea on rising. Her pupil assented graciously, and breakfast was -brought in on trays which were placed on two little tables, one for -Cecil and one for Azim Bey, while Um Yusuf, the nurse, and one or two -other women-servants sat down in the lower part of the room to await -their turn. - -After breakfast lessons began, and Cecil found that her pupil knew -nothing whatever of English, and must begin that, as well as most -other subjects, from the beginning. He could read Arabic and Turkish, -however, and his French astonished her. It was so fluent, so -idiomatic, so exceedingly up-to-date, so freely sprinkled with -Parisian slang, that she wondered where he could have picked it up. - -“From M. Karalampi, who was once attached to the French Consulate,” he -told her,--“and elsewhere,” he added, with a meaning look which made -her wonder. - -The first morning was a type of all that followed. Azim Bey’s day -began with a visit to his father while he dressed, when he employed -his time in asking the impossible questions dear to the heart of small -boys all the world over, which the Pasha now generally parried by -referring him to Mademoiselle Antaza. A walk in the garden, and -breakfast with mademoiselle, followed this, and then came lessons. As -a learner, Azim Bey was almost perfect. He was so quick that Cecil -felt thankful that he knew so little to begin with, or she would have -been afraid of his outstripping her. As it was, she foresaw a time -when she would have to study hard to keep ahead of him, and this made -her rejoice that she had arranged with Miss Arbuthnot to keep her -supplied with the newest works on the principal subjects which she -taught. - -But the care of her pupil in lesson-time was the least of Cecil’s -duties. The lonely little fellow attached himself to his governess in -the most marvellous way, and would scarcely allow her out of his -sight. When she went to the Residency on Sundays he moped so -persistently all day that the Pasha was almost tempted to give -permission for him to accompany her there, but refrained, partly for -fear of his being made a Christian, but much more for fear of the -outcry which would be raised on the subject by the Baghdadi zealots. -Wherever the Bey went, Cecil must go. Even if he appeared at any State -function in the Pasha’s hall of audience, she must be present as a -spectator in the latticed gallery which was appropriated to the ladies -of the harem, so that she might be ready afterwards to answer his -questions and appreciate his remarks, while he never went out without -her except in his father’s company. Her influence over him became -generally recognised, until at last even the Um-ul-Pasha, who had -taken no notice of her whatever since her unsuccessful call with Lady -Haigh, began to consider her a power to be reckoned with. The amiable -old lady had been so busy of late in carrying on a secret -correspondence with her eldest grandson, the rebellious Hussein Bey, -and in keeping him supplied with money, that she had paid slight -attention to the little household, which was theoretically in the -harem, yet not of it, and it struck her now with considerable force -that she had allowed herself to commit a great mistake in tactics. - -The first intimation Cecil received of a change of front on the part -of the Um-ul-Pasha was a formal invitation to attend the great lady’s -reception with her pupil on the day of Bairam. Such an invitation was -equivalent to a command, and it was furthermore imperative that Azim -Bey should pay his respects to his grandmother at the feast, lest it -should be inferred that she had utterly cast off both the Pasha and -himself, and Cecil therefore prepared to go. Etiquette required that -Um Yusuf, old Ayesha, and Basmeh Kalfa should go too, and they were -all escorted by Masûd to the door of the harem, where he delivered -them into the charge of the principal aga. - -It was now May, and the ladies were occupying the summer harem, a -pleasant English-looking building, standing in a flower-garden, and -furnished partly in European style. It was too early in the day as yet -for any but family visitors, but the Pasha had already paid his -respects to his mother and departed. The Um-ul-Pasha sat in the seat -of honour, the corner of the divan, in the great reception-room, with -the Pasha’s two wives beside her. One of these ladies was an invalid, -the other gentle and easy-going, and both were entirely under the -dominion of their mother-in-law, an imperious little tyrant with a -withered face and bright black eyes. It was easy to imagine what a -flutter Azim Bey’s impetuous, high-spirited Arab mother must have -caused in the dove-cotes here, and with what feelings the other wives -must have regarded their supplanter, and the Um-ul-Pasha the rebel -against her authority. Nothing of this was allowed to appear now, -however. Azim Bey kissed the hands of the ladies, who each made some -carefully uncomplimentary remark, either on his appearance or -dress--remarks which would have wounded Cecil’s feelings if she had -not known that they were made with the view of averting the evil eye. -The three servants kissed the hems of the ladies’ robes, and passed on -to join the throng of their intimates in the lower part of the room, -and Cecil, after a deep reverence to each of the exalted personages, -was graciously requested to sit down. She was used to sitting on -cushions on the floor by this time, and obeyed at once, while the -Um-ul-Pasha prepared to talk to her through the medium of Mademoiselle -Katrina, a plump Levantine lady in a red and green silk dress, who -lived in the harem, and acted as secretary, interpreter, and messenger -to the great lady. The customary compliments and a few unimportant -remarks were first exchanged, and then the Um-ul-Pasha came to -business. - -“You are English, are you not?” she asked through Mdlle. Katrina. - -Cecil answered in the affirmative. - -“Is it true that it is the custom in your country for young people to -settle about their marriage for themselves, without their parents -arranging the matter?” was the next question, to which also Cecil -returned an unsuspecting reply, all unprepared for what was to follow. - -“Then why are you not married?” asked the Um-ul-Pasha, bending her -black brows on her visitor, much as Um Yusuf had done in asking the -same question. The query was certainly an embarrassing one, and Cecil -answered blushingly that in England it was customary for the gentleman -to take the initiative in matters of the kind, and, well----. But it -was unnecessary for her to say any more, the inference was obvious, -and the expression on the Um-ul-Pasha’s face, faithfully copied on the -countenances of the other ladies, and respectfully reflected on that -of Mdlle. Katrina, said, “And no wonder!” It was an uncomfortable -moment, and to make the situation still more awkward, some mischievous -sprite prompted Azim Bey to put in a remark on his own account. - -“When I am grown up, _I_ shall marry mademoiselle,” he said, in his -shrill little voice, and then sat and hugged himself in happy -consciousness of the bombshell he had thrown into the group. Cecil -would have felt a keen pleasure at the moment in shaking him, and his -grandmother’s fingers twitched as though she longed to have him by the -throat. Mdlle. Katrina seemed actually to grow pale and shrunken with -horror, and the other two ladies subsided into limp heaps on their -cushions, murmuring breathless exclamations of terror and dismay. It -was the Um-ul-Pasha who recovered herself first, and she hailed the -opportunity of administering a snub to her grandson and his governess -at the same time. - -“You speak foolishly, Bey,” she said, in her haughtiest tones, “and I -am surprised that Mdlle. Antaza has not taught you better. She knows -very well that if I had not full confidence in her integrity, I should -advise my son, your father, to send her back to her own country at -once on account of that foolish speech of yours. As it is, such -nonsense as this makes me doubtful of the wisdom of keeping her here.” - -Cecil flushed hotly, and would have risen and taken her departure, but -her pupil answered without the slightest trace of confusion. - -“But you always hated her coming, madame, and when my father refused -to listen to you, you would not eat anything for a whole day. It is my -father who has brought mademoiselle here, and he will not send her -away.” - -“Bey, don’t be rude to your grandmother,” said Cecil, reprovingly, and -the entrance of coffee and cakes here relieved the tension of the -situation. The Um-ul-Pasha became markedly gracious once more, and -insisted upon taking a sip from Cecil’s cup, and breaking a piece from -her cake, to show her good faith, but the only effect which this -exaggerated affability produced upon those chiefly concerned was -expressed by Azim Bey’s remark to his governess as they departed-- - -“Mademoiselle, the Um-ul-Pasha is intending something. It is not -poison this time; I wonder when we shall know what it is! Did you hear -my grandmother say to Mdlle. Katrina as we came away, ‘When the wife -of the Balio Bey comes, see that she is admitted when no other -visitors are present’? So you will hear all about it from the Mother -of Teeth.” - -“You know that I have told you not to speak of Lady Haigh by that -name, Bey,” said Cecil, severely. “The wife of the Balio Bey should -always be mentioned with respect.” - -Sir Dugald Haigh was the Balio Bey, the word being a corruption of -_bailo_, the title of the Venetian Ambassador to the Porte in the -middle ages, and the name spoke volumes to every inhabitant of -Baghdad, so that Azim Bey submitted to the correction meekly. As he -had prophesied, Cecil heard from Lady Haigh a full account of her -interview with the Um-ul-Pasha when they next met, on the occasion of -Queen Victoria’s birthday, which fell close after Bairam that year, -and on which all the English in the region kept holiday. Cecil spent -the day at the Residency, as it had been carefully specified in her -agreement with the Pasha that she should do, and she did not feel at -all averse from a short return to civilised dress and English society. -Lady Haigh told her the story in the evening, when they had a few -minutes to spare before the arrival of the guests for the dinner-party -which was _de rigueur_ on the occasion. - -“I have simply laughed over it ever since, my dear,” said Lady Haigh; -“but I must tell it you quickly, or these people will be coming. Put -in plain language, the Um-ul-Pasha is willing to give you a handsome -outfit and dowry if you marry at once, just as if you were one of her -own favourite attendants.” - -“And was any particular gentleman indicated?” asked Cecil. - -“Certainly; it is Ovannes Effendi, the Pasha’s secretary. Nazleh -Khanum put the case very plainly from her own point of view. She said -that you had evidently failed to get married in your own country, or -you would not have come out here, and that you were wretchedly thin, -and had no idea of improving either your eyes or your complexion. As -for Ovannes Effendi, she said that he was in a good position, and -would make a kind husband. He was also a Christian--she laid great -stress upon that point of suitability--and could be trusted to marry -thankfully any lady the Um-ul-Pasha might be pleased to recommend to -him.” - -“And what did you say?” asked Cecil, laughing. - -“Well, my dear, I said that I was much obliged to Nazleh Khanum for -her kind intentions, but that I intended to make your settlement in -life my concern. I said that I had no doubt whatever of being able to -find you a husband as soon as ever you wanted one. In fact, I repaid -the Um-ul-Pasha with interest for the slight she put upon us when you -first came. I had to put it in oriental style, you see, or she -wouldn’t have understood it, but it makes me laugh whenever I think of -it. Imagine the luckless Ovannes Effendi suddenly saddled with a -London B.A. for a wife! Oh, there are those people! Let us go into the -drawing-room.” - -The dinner-party over, a number of other people came in who had been -invited to a garden-_fête_, a style of entertainment to which the -grounds of the Residency were peculiarly adapted. Carpets and cushions -were strewn upon the terraces, the buildings were all illuminated, and -to crown all, there were two bands of music, European and native, -playing against each other, so as to satisfy every taste. The evening -was to close with a grand display of fireworks, and Cecil, looking for -a spot whence she might obtain a good view, found Charlie Egerton by -her side. - -“There’s a capital place here,” he said, “and just room for two. I -haven’t spoken to you all day, and I’ve scarcely seen you all the -evening.” - -“But you ought to be helping Sir Dugald to entertain the guests,” said -Cecil. - -“But you are a guest,” he retorted, quickly, “and the rest have the -fireworks to entertain them. Besides, have you no compassion for the -sorrows of a poor wretch who has been trying in vain to entertain two -wholly unsympathetic ladies at the same time during the whole evening, -and could only approach success by making Mrs Hagopidan laugh at -Madame Denarien, and Madame Denarien feel shocked at Mrs Hagopidan?” - -“What a very edifying conversation!” laughed Cecil. “But I saw you -talking to Madame Petroffsky part of the time.” - -“Only for a moment, and the merest politenesses, I assure you. I can’t -bear emancipated women, they are all so dreadfully alike. Now don’t -take up the cudgels for them, please, Miss Anstruther. I have no doubt -that Anna Ivanovna is an excellent person, but she is not my ideal. -Besides, we quarrelled the last time we had an argument, and I hear -that she speaks of me now as _ce lourdaud de médecin anglais_. Could -a self-respecting man be expected to put up with that?” - -“But the other two are not like her,” said Cecil. - -“No, indeed,” said Charlie. “Her worst enemy could not call Madame -Denarien an emancipated woman. By the way, what a comment it is on -Denarien’s modern culture and occidental tastes! He marries a girl -brought up in a Syrian convent, whose teachers have been French nuns -of medieval views. She can repeat a few Latin prayers, work -embroidery, and make sweetmeats, and has pronounced ideas on the -possibility of enhancing her beauty by dyeing her hair and using white -and red paint liberally. But she is absolutely uneducated and can’t -talk a bit. She can sit and smile sweetly, and that is all. A doll -could do as much.” - -“Yes, she is a very fair specimen of the beautiful uneducated Eastern -woman whom you admired so much a short time ago,” said Cecil, -wickedly. “But what can you find to say against Myrta Hagopidan?” - -“Do you call each other by your Christian names already?” asked -Charlie, in pretended alarm. “I hope I have not said anything much -against her, Miss Anstruther. I had no idea that you were on such -affectionate terms with our bride.” - -“My favourite governess went from the South Central to be principal of -the Poonah High School, where Myrta was educated,” said Cecil, “and -she lives so close to the Palace that I am often able to go in and see -her. You have no idea how delightful it is to have some one with whom -one can talk shop again. One’s school-days are really the happiest -time in one’s life, you know, at least to look back upon. And then she -is so pretty and bright.” - -“Yes,” said Charlie, “she is smart, which emancipated women are not, -as a rule. But she is out of her element here. She comes to Baghdad -fresh from her school, brimful of modern notions, and thinks she can -lead society here. It won’t work. The English look askance at her as -being ‘a kind of native, don’t you know?’ and the rest do not -understand her. And really a woman whose happiness depends upon -society and society papers can’t find Baghdad congenial.” - -“But her happiness doesn’t depend on them,” said Cecil. “She has a -great many interests, and she helps Mr Hagopidan with all his English -correspondence.” - -“Then I have misjudged her,” said Charlie. “See how much more clearly -the feminine mind penetrates into character! I generalised hastily -from the fact that Mrs Hagopidan plied me with second-hand Simla -gossip and last season’s Belgravian personalities, which I detest.” - -“Poor thing!” said Cecil; “she was only trying to suit your tastes. -She never talks to me like that.” - -“And now,” went on Charlie, meditatively, “she proves to be an -excellent wife and a clever and businesslike woman.” - -“I never like judging people from casual impressions,” said Cecil, -“but sometimes it is very hard not to do it. That tall dark man, for -instance, who is talking to Madame Petroffsky--I don’t like him. I -have seen him once or twice at the Palace, crossing the outer court -with the Pasha, and he always seems to me to be--what shall I -say?--slippery.” - -“I should say that you had described him exactly,” said Charlie. “He -is a peculiar product of centuries of contact between European and -Eastern diplomacy, and he is particularly slippery. He is a Levantine -Greek, and his name is Karalampi.” - -“Oh, I have heard Azim Bey talk of him,” said Cecil. “He told me he -taught him French.” - -“I think Azim Bey may be very thankful that he has got into other -hands,” said Charlie. - -“Why?” asked Cecil. - -“Well, one hears a good deal about Karalampi which one doesn’t care to -repeat, but I can tell you what he is. The Pasha employs him as a spy -on the various consulates, and the consulates use him as a spy on the -Pasha and on each other. How he contrives to play them all off against -one another I don’t know, but I suppose he gives each employer his -turn. He used to be attached to the French Consulate, but no doubt his -present position is more lucrative. He does people’s dirty work for -them. Of course he is not officially employed by any one, but if you -could question Sir Dugald you would find out that more than once M. -Karalampi had furnished important information in the nick of time and -had been suitably rewarded.” - -“I don’t believe it,” said Cecil, indignantly. “Who told you?” - -“Azevedo, the old Jewish banker, a great crony of mine. Most of my -friends are Jews, Turks, infidels, or heretics, somehow.” - -“Well, one can never tell what people will pride themselves upon,” -said Cecil, looking away. “But such a choice of friends----” - -“I never said I was proud of it,” he said, quickly. - -“No, your tone said it for you,” said Cecil; “it implied that it was -original and uncommon to have such a circle of acquaintances. But if -you are so fond of Jews, why don’t you get to know Dr Yehudi?” - -“What, the fat old padre down in the town?” - -“Yes; you seldom have him here on Sundays, because he knows so many -more languages than Mr Schad, and so does more mission-work. He can -speak an extraordinary number of modern dialects, and knows Syriac and -Chaldee and all the old languages as well.” - -“Oh, I have heard them talking of him at Azevedo’s. To mention his -name there is like waving a red rag before a particularly furious -bull. And so he is one of those expensive people, converted Jews? You -know it costs, they say, a thousand pounds to convert one Jew. I -should like to see one. I’ll go and look him up.” - -“I hope you will,” said Cecil, quietly. - -Charlie looked at her a moment to discover whether she was angry with -his speech. - -“Don’t you mind my saying that about the thousand pounds?” he asked. - -“Why should I?” said Cecil. “Can you say that a soul, whether Dr -Yehudi’s or any one else’s, is not worth so much? But when you know -him, you will be better able to judge for yourself.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - LITERATURE AND POLITICS. - -“I have made the acquaintance of your old friend,” Charlie said to -Cecil a few Sundays after this conversation. - -“Oh, you mean Dr Yehudi,” said she. “How do you like him?” - -“My Western mind admires him extremely, because he is so tremendously -in earnest, but my Eastern mind is disgusted by his restlessness. Why -can’t he let people alone? He must always be attacking some one’s -cherished beliefs or pet foibles. If I was really an Eastern, I -suppose I should regard him as a prophet, and become a disciple. But I -really do believe there is something in it.” - -“Something in what?” asked Cecil. - -“Well--in the conversion of Jews, in spite of the thousand pounds. Old -Yehudi is such a splendid fellow--with his power and talents he might -have done almost anything if he had remained a Jew, but he has given -it all up, and the way the Jews here hate him for it! He has a -fascination for them, though; they go and argue with him by the hour, -and then leave the house tearing their clothes and calling down curses -upon him. But he’s awfully good to them, and the Moslems respect him -tremendously. He seems to do a great deal of good in one way and -another, but I can’t help thinking he would do better as a medical -man. It must be a hopeless kind of work preaching to a set of poor -wretches so horribly afflicted as some of them are.” - -“Why don’t you offer to go and help him?” asked Cecil. - -Charlie looked confused. - -“How did you know?” he said. “Of course I can’t give up my time to -anything of the kind now, but I did say something to him one day about -throwing up this place and working under him. What do you think he -said to me? He looked me over very slowly, and said, ‘My goot yong -friend, you are what we call a rolling stone, never staying long in -one place. In the Missions this is as bad as in the worldly affairs. -Let me see you staying where you are for five years, working -faithfully under the goot Balio Bey, and then come to me again.’ That -was rather rough on me, wasn’t it? I wonder how he knew that Sir -Dugald and I didn’t exactly hit it?” - -“He knows Sir Dugald, and he is beginning to know you,” said Cecil; -“and by his putting it in that way, he meant to show that it was not -Sir Dugald’s fault.” - -“I am doomed to be snubbed to-day,” said Charlie, and went off -laughing to visit his hospital. Cecil felt more light-hearted than -usual about him that night. Generally his erratic ways and strange -acquaintances weighed upon her mind a good deal, but she felt more at -ease now that he had learnt to know the versatile and friendly Dr -Yehudi. He would be better employed in discussing Talmudical theology -or Syriac roots with him, even if no higher themes were touched upon, -than in gathering scandal about Sir Dugald and the foreign consuls -generally from old Isaac Azevedo. Cecil had taken a rather hastily -founded dislike to this old man, of whom she knew only by hearsay. It -even made her doubtful of the correctness of her own estimate of M. -Karalampi, to find it confirmed by reports from such a quarter. But a -corroboration of Charlie’s opinion of Azim Bey’s former teacher was -speedily to be provided from an independent source. - -Cecil’s relations with her pupil continued to be of the happiest -character. In the seclusion of their own courtyard he was almost -always with her. He was perfectly content to be silent if she was -busy, and possessed the happy faculty of being able to do nothing and -yet not get into mischief. But stories were what he delighted in, and -all the pranks of Fitz, Terry, Patsy, and Loey were recounted over and -over again, until he knew the boys as well as their sister did. It was -a remarkable and gratifying thing about him that he never seemed -inclined to imitate any of these tricks. He was too much grown up, -indeed, to do anything of the kind, and it was from this very fact -that Cecil’s first great difficulty in dealing with him arose. - -It so happened that she was not called upon to face this difficulty -until one day in the height of summer, when she was feeling unusually -weak and exhausted. She was only just recovering from an attack of -fever, and the heat seemed stifling, even in the semi-darkness of the -cellar schoolroom, with its carefully shaded windows close to the -ceiling. She had succeeded in getting through the morning’s lessons -somehow, but she found it impossible to provide Azim Bey with his -daily instalment of story. Upon this he volunteered to tell her a -story instead, while one of the negresses sat by and fanned her, and -she prepared herself to listen with considerable interest. Whatever -the story was, Azim Bey seemed to be quite excited about it, and she -wondered whether he had inherited the Arab gift of improvisation. He -sat thinking for a few minutes, and then, with very little preface, -began to pour into her horrified ears such a tale as made her hair -almost stand on end. At first she could only gaze at him in speechless -horror as he spoke, accompanying his words with much vigorous -descriptive action, but at last she found her voice, and burst forth -with crimson face-- - -“Bey, be silent! How dare you repeat such things? Where did you learn -that?” - -“In a book, mademoiselle, a delightful book. Ah, magnificent!” he -added, slowly, smacking his lips as if he enjoyed the recollection. - -“Who gave it you?” gasped Cecil. - -“M. Karalampi: he has given and lent me many, for two--three years. -Ah, the dear pink and yellow books, how I love them!” - -“And you have been reading these books ever since I came, and you -never told me!” said Cecil, in deep reproach. Her pupil became -penitent at once. - -“Ah, mademoiselle,” he cried, flinging himself down beside her, and -seizing her hand, “he told me not to tell you. He said the English -hated French books, and could not understand them, and he used to send -them into my apartments at night. But at last I thought I would see -whether you did understand. O mademoiselle, my dear mademoiselle, why -are you weeping?” - -“Because I am not fit to have the charge of you,” said Cecil, sadly, -dashing away the gathering tears. “I never thought of this. Oh, Bey, I -trusted you!” - -“Don’t weep, mademoiselle, you are good; it is I that am wicked, vile, -a beast! I will give them up--I will read no more. We will burn them -all. I will never speak to M. Karalampi again. I promise, -mademoiselle.” - -“How did you first learn to know M. Karalampi?” asked Cecil. - -“My father wished me to take lessons in French, mademoiselle, and M. -Karalampi offered to teach me, and then he said that I should learn -best in reading by myself, and he would borrow some books for me from -the French Consul.” - -“So he lent you these dreadful books?” - -“Yes, mademoiselle. What do you think of him?” - -“I am not going to say what I think. His behaviour is infamous.” - -“Ah, he is a wicked man then, mademoiselle?” - -“Wicked is no word for it. Bey, you will keep your promise--you will -burn these books?” - -“I will, mademoiselle, I have given you my word; but it is like -burning a piece of myself. What shall I do with nothing to read and -all my pocket-money gone? for I have just sent to M. Karalampi what I -owed him.” - -“You shall have English books,” said Cecil, with sudden resolution. -“You have no idea of the delightful books English boys read--books -that will do you good instead of harm. We will read them together -first, and when you know more English you shall read them by yourself. -I can borrow one or two from the Residency until we can write home for -more.” - -“Very well, mademoiselle. We will burn the bad books--we will not -retain one. O women, bring wood into the courtyard, and fire.” - -The negresses obeyed in some surprise, which was only natural, -considering the character of the weather; but Cecil and her pupil were -both too much in earnest to care for the heat, and mounted the stairs -at once to the courtyard, where the servants arranged a goodly pile. -It was not in Azim Bey’s nature to conduct such a ceremony as this -without all the pomp possible, and having installed Cecil in an -arm-chair in the verandah, he headed a small procession of slave-women -to his own rooms and superintended their return with their arms full -of pink and yellow volumes. Under his direction the leaves were torn -out in handfuls and piled on the wood, and he himself heroically set -fire to the pile. Cecil sat with a thankful heart watching the printed -pages curl and blacken. She remembered now Um Yusuf’s remark about -Azim Bey’s reading bad books, and the way Lady Haigh had laughed at -it, but the possibility of such a constant inflow of corrupt -literature as M. Karalampi had brought about had never occurred to -her. On the principle of striking while the iron was hot, she -proceeded next to cut off the supply. When Azim Bey had satisfied -himself that not a scrap of the obnoxious books remained unburnt, he -was summoned to write to M. Karalampi. Under Cecil’s superintendence, -but in his own phraseology, the boy expressed his thanks for M. -Karalampi’s kindness in the past, while remarking politely that he -would not trouble him for any further specimens of French literature. -When this letter had been despatched by a special messenger, Cecil -breathed more freely, and wrote a little note to the Residency, asking -Lady Haigh to send her any boys’ books she might happen to have. - -Without Cecil’s intending it in the slightest, her hasty scribble -produced an extraordinary effect at the Residency. As has already been -said, she had been suffering from fever, and had not, in consequence, -been able to avail herself of her Sunday liberty for a fortnight. She -had been attended by the Pasha’s own physician, who had gone in person -to the Residency to report to Lady Haigh on the condition of his -patient, but Lady Haigh was not satisfied. She herself had hurt her -foot and could not get to the Palace to see Cecil, and she was nervous -and low-spirited about her, and feared that she was not properly taken -care of. The hurried pencil note, with its uneven writing, seemed to -her to confirm her fears, and she was hobbling to Sir Dugald’s office -to look for him and insist upon his doing something, when she -remembered that he had gone to see the Pasha. Happily she came across -Charlie instead, and he sympathised fully with her apprehensions. - -“Yes, Cousin Elma, it does look bad. It seems to me very much as if -they were keeping her shut up and she couldn’t write without exciting -suspicion. She gets hold of a scrap of paper and scribbles as plain a -message as she dares without actually asking for help. You see from -the writing that she must have been agitated and excited. I certainly -think that this note ought to be answered in person.” - -“And my wretched foot!” groaned poor Lady Haigh. - -“Oh, I’ll go for you, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, hastily. “It might -not do to wait until Sir Dugald comes back. I don’t feel at all sure -about that illness of Miss Anstruther’s. It may be all a fraud on the -part of the _hakim bashi_ (doctor). At any rate, if you will write a -note saying that I am the surgeon of the Residency come to see -Mademoiselle Antaza professionally, they must let me in. Of course, if -you have the books, I may as well take them with me, in case it’s all -right.” - -About an hour afterwards, in consequence of this colloquy, Cecil and -her pupil, who had begun their evening lessons, were disturbed by -hearing Masûd’s warning cry of “_Dastûr! Dastûr!_” Much surprised -that the Pasha should pay his son a visit at this unwonted hour, Cecil -and the other women hurriedly assumed their veils, presenting thereby -an extremely grotesque aspect to Charlie as he approached, preceded by -the much-perturbed Masûd. He could not help laughing to see the women -instantaneously transforming themselves into closely swathed bundles -at his appearance, and Azim Bey marked his levity with displeasure. - -“This gentleman is an acquaintance of yours, mademoiselle?” he -inquired frigidly, noticing that Cecil started. - -“How do you do, Dr Egerton?” she asked, in some confusion. “May I -present to you Dr Egerton from the English Consulate, Bey?” - -Charlie composed his features and bowed with due solemnity, and then -delivered his burden of books with a polite message from Lady Haigh. -Having done this, he seemed to intend his visit to be considered as a -friendly call, for he made several vain attempts to thaw the cool -reserve of Azim Bey, who sat regarding him with disapproving eyes. -Cecil was on thorns, fearing that her pupil would proceed to say -something rude, and it was scarcely a matter of surprise to her when -he remarked in his clearest tones-- - -“At this period of the day, monsieur, mademoiselle and I are engaged -with our studies. As I am certain that mademoiselle has no desire that -these should be interrupted by the visits of her acquaintances, I may -remark that if Milady Haigh has any message to send after this, it -will be unnecessary for M. le docteur to put himself to the pain of -bringing it.” - -Cecil turned crimson, and even Charlie looked confused for a moment. -But his presence of mind did not forsake him, and he bowed politely, -regretted that he had trespassed on the patience of mademoiselle and -of the Bey, and took his departure. - -“I do believe that little beggar’s inclined to be jealous,” he said to -himself as he left the Palace and went back to the Residency, -satisfied about Cecil, and thinking no more about Azim Bey and his -ways. - -Cecil dared not say anything to her pupil about his rudeness, fearing -lest he should think she had some personal feeling in the matter. -After all, she was not sorry that Dr Egerton should have received his -_congé_ so decisively, for it would never have done if he had taken -it into his head to call again, and she was only thankful that the -incident of the books should have ended so happily. - -But she was reckoning without her host, for the incident was not yet -terminated. Two or three days after the destruction of the French -novels, Azim Bey came in from a ride with his father in a state of -high self-satisfaction. - -“It is not good to speak kindly to a wicked man--to treat him with -distinction--is it, mademoiselle?” - -“To treat him with distinction? Certainly not,” said Cecil. - -“Well, mademoiselle, I have treated the wicked man rightly; for M. -Karalampi is a wicked man, is he not? You said so yourself.” - -“I know I did; but I didn’t mean you to be rude to him, Bey,” answered -Cecil, in some alarm. “What have you done?” - -“We passed him to-day, mademoiselle, walking with the French Consul, -and I refused to take the slightest notice of either of them; for the -Consul must also be wicked, since he lent M. Karalampi the books at -first. Well, presently, when we halted, M. Karalampi approached me -with an air of familiarity, and inquired with sorrow how he had -offended me. I told him that I did not desire any further association -with him, and that I no longer considered him as one of my intimates.” - -The boy was so well pleased with himself for this that none of Cecil’s -lectures on rudeness could produce any effect on him, and she dropped -the subject in despair. But the French Consul and M. Karalampi did not -see the matter in the same light, and they did their best, happily -with only partial success, to found a diplomatic complication upon the -incident. A note to the French Government complained of the pernicious -influence exercised by England in the household of Ahmed Khémi Pasha, -and in ornate and highly complimentary language deprecated the -interference of ladies in politics. Cecil was gallantly described as a -young woman profoundly learned, with manners the most distinguished, a -countenance charming and altogether spiritual, and a bearing at once -modest and intrepid, _Anglaise des Anglaises_. The sting of this -description was intended to be in its tail, and the writer went on to -say that this young girl, so innocent, so unsuspicious, was only the -tool of unscrupulous persons behind the scenes. Here followed a highly -coloured portrait of Sir Dugald Haigh, who was described as “this -inscrutable automaton of a man,” “this impassive murderer of poor -Hindus” (it is scarcely necessary to remark that the latter was a -purely fancy touch, probably borrowed from the colonial methods of the -writer’s own nation), as a crafty schemer and a Machiavellian plotter. - -The note produced a good deal of effect, and there was a debate upon -the subject in the French Chamber, while at Westminster certain -M.P.’s, whose tender consciences were wounded by the thought of -England’s exercising influence anywhere, questioned the Government -upon it, and Cecil received through Sir Dugald a vague and formal -caution which might have meant anything or nothing, and the matter -dropped. - -The English books which Cecil procured to replace the vanished novels -proved extremely successful in accomplishing her object. Azim Bey -devoured them eagerly, and held long conversations upon them with his -governess afterwards. To her great amusement, the characters he -discussed with most appreciation were those of the villain and of the -capable person who acted as _deus ex machinâ_, and cleared up -everything at the end of the story. He pursued the history of the -villain’s machinations with breathless interest, and generally carped -at his ignominious downfall when virtue triumphed, declaring that such -a man would never have let himself be conquered by such feeble means. -On the other hand, the character of the wealthy old gentleman who -adopts deserving orphan boys and starts them in life, takes -necessitous heroes into partnership, and bestows timely fortunes on -penniless heroines, suited the vein of rather eccentric benevolence -which was noticeable in him. Further reading brought him to wish to do -something for the poor--and this not only in the way of giving alms to -beggars in the street, which he did carefully as a religious duty. He -wished to go amongst them and help them to raise themselves; and when -his father absolutely refused to allow him to do anything of the kind, -he demanded that his governess should find him some substitute for -this employment. After some cogitation, Cecil suggested that he should -take an interest in Dr Yehudi’s Mission-schools, the best managed -institution of their kind in Baghdad; and Azim Bey set to work at -once, and gave the Pasha no peace until he had granted him leave to -visit them. - -It would be difficult to say whether the Bey or his entertainers felt -the honour of this visit more acutely, but the programme was gone -through in a thoroughly successful way. Azim Bey inspected all the -buildings, listened to the children’s lessons, asked them a few -questions himself, and finally sent out one of his servants to buy -sweetmeats to distribute among them--all with a stately and paternal -air modelled on that which the Pasha wore on similar occasions. He was -so supremely well satisfied with himself that, when the ceremony was -over, he accepted the Yehudis’ invitation to afternoon tea, and -handled his cup and saucer as though to the manner born, or as if he -had rehearsed the scene carefully beforehand, as he generally did when -he was to meet Europeans. They were a very pleasant little party in -the cellar of the Mission-house,--Mrs Yehudi pouring out her woes to -Cecil in a corner on the subject of her husband’s irrepressible -activity, and her conviction that he would kill himself with work; -while Dr Yehudi, genial, rotund, and erudite, conversed with Azim Bey -in the purest Arabic, when the harmony of the occasion was marred by -the entrance of a visitor. Unfortunately, it was not one of the Jewish -rabbis who were wont to come and argue with Dr Yehudi, nor even one of -the Turkish gentlemen who sometimes honoured him with a visit for the -sake of his many talents, but Charlie Egerton. As he advanced -cautiously towards his hostess in the dim light, Azim Bey’s brow grew -black, and Cecil turned first red and then white, as she realised that -her pupil’s suspicious mind had instantly concluded that the meeting -here was prearranged. Ever since Charlie’s visit to their courtyard, -Azim Bey had maintained a violent dislike of him, and refused to hear -his name mentioned, alleging that he had forced his way into the -Palace with the express design of insulting him and of thrusting -himself upon Mdlle. Antaza. - -A prejudice of this kind could not be dealt with by argument, and -Cecil had refrained from attempting it, but now she wished that she -had not done so, for even the Yehudis perceived at once that something -was wrong. The only unconcerned person was the intruder himself, who -complimented Mrs Yehudi on her tea, chaffed the Bey on the subject of -his gloomy countenance, and otherwise did his best to make things -comfortable. But his efforts were in vain. No sooner had Cecil set -down her tea-cup than her pupil rose. - -“I am sorry to hasten you, mademoiselle, but it is time that we -return. M. le pasteur, may I entreat you to command my servants to be -summoned? Accept, madame, the assurance of my most distinguished -consideration, and of my eternal gratitude for your hospitality. Allow -me to enjoy the hope of one day partaking of it again.” - -“May I ride with you as far as the Palace?” said Charlie to Cecil in a -low voice, but Azim Bey heard him. - -“No, monsieur, pray do not trouble yourself to move. Your attendance -is not required. You understand me?” - -“Perfectly, Bey,” responded Charlie, and Azim Bey and his attendants -mounted and rode off, the Bey keeping a sharp eye upon Cecil, with the -view of preventing any lingering farewells. When they were well on -their way, he demanded-- - -“Is this Dr Egerton always at the Mission-house when you go there, -mademoiselle?” - -“Certainly not,” said Cecil. - -“That means every time but once, I suppose?” he asked, rudely. - -“You forget yourself, Bey,” said Cecil, in grave reproof. “I am not -accountable for Dr Egerton’s movements, but I can tell you that I have -never met him at the Mission-house before, and that I had no idea -whatever that he would be there to-day.” - -Azim Bey grunted and changed the subject, absolutely refusing to refer -to it again. He refused also to attend the prize-giving at the school, -to which he had been looking forward, and gave Cecil as few chances as -possible of going to the Mission-house. Nor did his precautions end -here. Dr Yehudi received a confidential hint from Denarien Bey, -warning him not to entertain persons from the British Consulate so -frequently at his house, as the fact of the constant presence there of -such individuals was creating a suspicion in high quarters that the -work was being carried on for political ends. The old missionary had -no alternative but to lay the case before Charlie, who perceived that -he was out-manœuvred, and was obliged to accept the situation. Lady -Haigh laughed at him, but he felt himself an innocent and much injured -individual. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - A CUP OF COFFEE. - -For more than a year Azim Bey continued to be sulky on the subject -of the Mission-school, although in everything else he was a pattern -pupil. His intended career as a public benefactor seemed destined to -end abruptly with Charlie Egerton’s appearance in the Yehudis’ -parlour, and Cecil could not be wholly sorry for this, since political -feeling in the city was not in a state to make house-to-house -visitation either safe or pleasant. Matters were going rather badly in -the pashalik just now. Two or three scanty harvests had been followed -by famine, and the general distress was increased by the fact that the -Pasha, who was much in want of money, had chosen this singularly -inopportune moment for imposing a duty on the importation of foreign -corn, a course which was strongly resented. Bands of marauders -infested the country districts, and the constant expeditions necessary -to keep the main trade-routes open involved an expenditure of men and -money which could with difficulty be met. Hussein Bey, the Pasha’s -disaffected eldest son, who had been “lying low” for some time, had -reappeared as the leader of one of these bands, and was doing his best -to stir the populace to revolt. His wrongs, in being set aside for his -younger brother, who was being brought up as half a Christian, were in -every one’s mouth, and many people did not scruple to attribute the -misfortunes of the province to the malign influence of the -Englishwoman who was scarcely ever absent from Azim Bey’s side. The -position she enjoyed in the Palace was constantly attributed to -witchcraft; and there were even those who said that things would never -be right in Baghdad until Azim Bey and his governess were--well, -disposed of. By degrees matters went from bad to worse. Riotous mobs -beset unpopular officials in the streets, and more than one house was -attacked and rifled. The Pasha shut himself up in the Palace, with a -strong guard on duty night and day, and none of the household ventured -out without an escort. When Cecil went to the Residency she was -attended by a small army of soldiers and cavasses, and even these -could scarcely keep back the howling mobs. Still no actual danger -touched her personally, and she was inclined to adopt Sir Dugald’s -consolatory opinion that the bark of the Baghdadis was always worse -than their bite, and that the latter might be considered, in -mathematical language, as a negligible quantity, when something came -to pass one day which showed her in what a perilous position she and -her charge really stood at this time. - -After lessons on this particular morning, Azim Bey despatched one of -the slave-women to bring some coffee. The negress was longer than -usual on her errand, and he waxed impatient, but she reappeared at -last, hurrying in with three tiny jewelled cups on a silver tray. One -cup was for herself, for it was her duty to taste the beverages -supplied to the Bey, the remaining two for him and for Cecil. As the -woman set the tray down on the little octagonal table, Azim Bey gave -it a slight twist so as to bring the cup which had been nearest to her -hand opposite to himself. Her hand was already outstretched to take -it, and she paused in surprise and hesitated. - -“Taste the coffee, O Salimeh,” said the boy, authoritatively. - -Rather doubtfully, Salimeh stretched her hand across the tray, took -the cup which was in front of her young master, and drank off the -contents. - -“Now drink another,” said Azim Bey. - -“O, my lord, they are for thee and for mademoiselle,” remonstrated the -woman, with a note of anxiety in her voice which attracted Cecil’s -attention. “How shall I drink my lord’s coffee?” - -“Drink it,” said Azim Bey, shortly, fixing his eyes upon her. - -As though fascinated by his gaze, she slowly stretched out her hand -and took up another cup, raised it half-way to her lips, and paused. - -“Drink it,” he repeated, gazing at her, while her dark face grew pale -and ghastly-looking with terror, until in a sudden frenzy she dashed -the cup to the ground. - -“O, my lord, pardon thy servant,” she sobbed, flinging herself on her -knees and grovelling before him. “God has made my lord very wise. -There is death in the cup.” - -“Drink the other,” said Azim Bey, unmoved. - -His voice had been so calm throughout that it was only now that Cecil -realised that she had barely escaped taking a prominent part in a -tremendous tragedy. She interposed hastily. - -“Bey, you cannot mean to make her drink it if it is poisoned? It will -kill her.” - -“She would have killed you and me, mademoiselle. Get up and drink it, -thou granddaughter of a dog!” he added to the wretched woman, who was -weeping and howling at his feet. - -“But it is not for you to punish her,” remonstrated Cecil. “She may -have been terrified into doing it. It ought to be inquired into.” - -“It shall be,” said Azim Bey, grimly, and he summoned Masûd from the -door. With the poisoned cup held to her lips, Salimeh confessed that -she had been bribed to leave the tray of coffee on the ledge of a -window which looked into the harem enclosure, and to turn her back for -a moment. She had held in her hand the cup she intended for herself, -so as to make things safe, but she could only guess what had been done -to the other two. It took longer to find out who had been the other -party to the dreadful transaction, but after a lengthy -cross-examination she confessed that it was Zubeydeh Kalfa, the -Um-ul-Pasha’s head-slave. When this conclusion was reached, Azim Bey -turned a meaning glance on Cecil. - -“This case must go before my father, mademoiselle,” he said; “it is -too much for me to deal with. No doubt he would much prefer that I -should settle it for myself and not involve him in trouble with my -grandmother, but it is too serious. An example must be made. Take the -woman away, O Masûd, and keep her safely until the Pasha can give -thee orders about her.” - -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” responded Masûd, with a grin, and -dragged away the miserable Salimeh, shrieking and praying for mercy. - -“Did you know beforehand that the coffee was poisoned, Bey?” was the -first question Cecil asked her pupil when they were alone. - -“We in Turkey learn to expect such incidents in times like these, -mademoiselle,” said the boy, with lofty, almost _blasé_, -condescension, “and I have long been looking out for some token of the -kind from my grandmother or my brother, but I knew no more about this -attempt before it was made than you did.” - -“Then how did you discover it?” asked Cecil, with natural curiosity. - -“Perhaps, mademoiselle, you may not have observed that I am of a -somewhat suspicious nature? Any unnecessary action or unusual -occurrence sets me to reflect upon the reason for its happening. Apply -this to our experience to-day. I send the villanous Salimeh for -coffee. She is much longer than she need be in bringing it, and -returns to the room hastily, and with an air of disturbance. My -suspicions are aroused, but I say nothing, knowing that no one looks -so foolish as the person who imagines perpetually that plots are being -directed against him. I merely turn the tray partly round, secure that -the would-be murderess will not murder herself. Her very first -movement confirms my suspicions, and if any further assurance is -wanted, it is supplied by her later behaviour. There you have the -whole thing.” - -“It is very dreadful,” said Cecil, with a shudder; “but you will ask -his Excellency to deal gently with her, Bey?” - -“Gently, mademoiselle?” and a smile broke over Azim Bey’s solemn -countenance. “Is she to have liberty to murder us successfully another -time? Besides, an example is necessary, and she is the only culprit -that can be reached. Zubeydeh Kalfa may possibly be seized, but to -defend herself she would implicate her employers, and then the matter -could not be hushed up.” - -“But this is not justice, Bey,” remonstrated Cecil. - -“No, mademoiselle, it is policy,” said Azim Bey, unabashed. - -And the dictates of policy were followed in the investigation which -succeeded. No one who heard of the matter doubted for an instant that -the Um-ul-Pasha had planned the murder of her younger grandson in the -interests of Hussein Bey, but all Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s efforts were -directed to prevent the slightest whisper being breathed against his -mother. He guarded with the utmost loyalty the good name which she had -perilled so rashly, and succeeded in preventing any open declaration -of the truth. Zubeydeh Kalfa was got rid of by being married to a -former pipe-bearer of the Pasha’s, who was going to live in Mosul, a -town which has a Pasha of its own, and where gossip concerning the -Palace harem at Baghdad would therefore be at a discount. Salimeh -disappeared. Cecil was left in doubt as to her fate, and could never -discover what had become of her. All that Azim Bey would say when -questioned was that she had gone to a far country, but whether she had -been put to death, or disposed of in the same way that Zubeydeh Kalfa -had been, Cecil never knew. Masûd and the women-servants who had seen -and heard what had happened received handsome presents to induce them -to keep the matter quiet, and Cecil was astonished by the gift of a -gold watch of abnormal size, with a richly jewelled case and a massive -chain. Its value was considerable, and she exhibited it at the -Residency with surprise and delight, until Lady Haigh told her that it -was intended as a bribe to make her hold her tongue. She was horrified -at this, and wished to return it to the Pasha at once, but Lady Haigh -objected. - -“You don’t intend to publish abroad your belief that the Um-ul-Pasha -tried to poison you and Azim Bey, I suppose?” she said; “so why not -keep the watch, if you are going to earn it?” - -“But the Pasha will think that I am silent on account of his having -given it to me,” said Cecil. - -“Of course he will, my dear; and if you give it back, he will take it -as a sign that it is not valuable enough, and he will go on piling up -his bribes, but he will never understand your scruples. Orientals -don’t indulge in such luxuries, and why should you not let the poor -man have the happy feeling that your silence is secured, since it is -so after all?” - -Cecil was silenced, but not convinced, and put the watch by, for her -pleasure in it was spoilt. Presently she had to encounter another -argument from Charlie Egerton, to whom the news of the attempted -murder had filtered through the gossip of the servants and the -streets. He was horrified to learn the danger she had been in, and -urgently desirous that she should at once quit the Palace and take -refuge at the Residency. To his great concern, Cecil refused to do -anything of the kind. It was true that she had felt nervous and -unstrung for a few days after the shock of the sudden danger and -escape, but since then she had pulled herself together and looked the -situation boldly in the face. She was ashamed of the hasty impulse -which had seized her to seek refuge in flight, and determined to -remain at the post of duty. Hence, when Charlie attacked her, he found -her armed at all points. - -“It isn’t right,” he said, vehemently. “You are in constant danger. -They may catch you off your guard at any moment, and there you are, -alone in that great place, with traitors all round you.” - -“I am not afraid,” said Cecil. “Don’t you know that ‘each man’s -immortal till his work is done’? My work certainly lies at the Palace, -and while I can, I hope to do it.” - -“That would be a poor consolation if you and your work both ended -together,” said Charlie, bitterly, too much in earnest to pick his -phrases. - -“Why?” said Cecil. “We know that I shan’t die so long as there is any -work at all left for me to do, so that if I am killed it must mean -that my work is done.” - -“I can’t see it as you do,” said Charlie, conscious that this was not -what he meant at all; “and I have no wish to try, either. You are -wrought up and overstrained just now. I see that you are taking your -life in your hand, and going into fearful danger quite needlessly.” - -“But it’s not needlessly,” said Cecil; “it’s my duty. Why, suppose -that cholera, or the plague, broke out here, would you shut yourself -up and refuse to go among the people? I know you wouldn’t. You would -work night and day, and never think of the danger.” - -“That’s different,” said Charlie. “It would be my business to do it. A -fellow would be a cad not to. But I wouldn’t let you do it, as you -know. It’s a very different thing going into danger oneself, and -seeing you go.” - -“But you will have to submit to it, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh’s voice. -“Cecil, my dear, I want you.” And Charlie’s chance of breaking down -Cecil’s resolution was gone. - -In his desperation, when Cecil was about to return to the Palace, he -applied to Sir Dugald, and was politely snubbed for his pains. -Certainly, Sir Dugald admitted, he was bound to afford protection to -all British subjects, but he could not force any of them to avail -themselves of it, and he pointed out the painful absurdity of the -situation which would be caused by any attempt to detain Cecil at the -Residency against her will. Such an argument had little effect upon -Charlie, but Sir Dugald’s ruling characteristic was the fear of being -made to look absurd, and he really felt that this consideration -settled the matter. Charlie poured out his woes, as usual, to Lady -Haigh, who attempted to console him by the reflection that the -Um-ul-Pasha was not likely to make another effort at poisoning just -yet, since her intended victims would be on their guard, to which he -replied that she would probably be counting on this very confidence as -to her intentions, and thus be emboldened to renew her attack. - -In the little courtyard which formed Cecil’s world during six days out -of every seven, public opinion agreed with Lady Haigh rather than with -Charlie. It was the general feeling that although no public reference -had been made to the Um-ul-Pasha’s share in the conspiracy, yet the -danger of detection had approached sufficiently near to give her a -very good fright, and that she would make no further attempt on her -grandson’s life for the present. The Pasha’s prevailing fear was lest -more violent means might now be employed, and some band of brigands -subsidised to effect the desired object. His Excellency was between -two fires. On one side were the Hajar Arabs, the tribesmen of Azim -Bey’s dead mother, who had espoused the boy’s cause with -characteristic and troublesome ardour, and threatened to murder the -Pasha if he allowed any harm to come to him; and on the other the rest -of the powerful Arab tribes of the neighbourhood, who had no special -interest in Hussein Bey, but adopted his cause on account of its not -being that of the Hajar. With these were the majority of the -Baghdadis, some because of a natural instinct for opposing the powers -that be, others because they sincerely attributed to Azim Bey and the -Englishwoman the misfortunes of the time. - -On account of this danger from brigands and from the disaffected -Arabs, the Pasha forbade his son ever to go beyond the city walls, -except in company with himself and his large escort. This prohibition -fell hardly upon Azim Bey, who found his daily rides much curtailed -and his weekly hunting-parties almost entirely stopped; but Cecil held -sole command in their own courtyard, and would not permit any evasion -of his Excellency’s orders. Her pupil felt it very dull, and at last, -when he grew thoroughly tired of rambles confined to the garden, began -to ask again about the Yehudis and their work. Hearing that the yearly -prize-giving at the schools was again approaching, he became much -interested; and when Cecil hinted that he might possibly be invited to -preside at the ceremony, his excitement rose to fever heat. An -announcement that the children had been taught to sing an Arabic -version of “God save the Queen,” so arranged as to refer to the Sultan -instead of to her most gracious Majesty, and an elaborate letter in -Turkish from Dr Yehudi, adorned with many flourishes, both literary -and caligraphical, and requesting the honour of his presence, decided -him to go, were it only with the view of encouraging loyalty in the -rising generation. Even in this exalted state of mind, however, he -exacted a solemn promise from both Cecil and Dr Yehudi that Dr Egerton -should not be invited. This once settled, he bent himself to the task -of obtaining his father’s permission to go--a formality which the -deluded Cecil had imagined to have been complied with long before. - -After all, the Pasha was not very difficult to coax into consent, for -he was specially anxious to stand well with England just then, and he -had a vague idea that there were a good many people there who took an -utterly incomprehensible interest in such an unimportant and far-off -object as the Jewish Mission-school at Baghdad. But although he was -willing that England should know of his tolerant behaviour, he was -particularly anxious that the news of it should not spread in Baghdad, -lest the mob should seek revenge at once against the Christians and -against Azim Bey by burning down the Mission-house, in which case his -Excellency would have to make good the damage. For this reason, Azim -Bey was informed, to his great chagrin, that he must go quite -privately to the prize-giving, without any pomp and circumstance -whatever, for fear of exciting the populace. Not a word was to be -breathed of the matter to any one but the parties immediately -concerned; there was to be no military escort, no long train of -servants, only the two nurses and the donkey-boys to attend upon Cecil -and himself, and Masûd to give an air of respectability to the -outing. All were to wear their plainest clothes, even the donkeys were -not to be decked with their State trappings, and the route was -strictly to be limited to unfrequented streets. Was there ever such a -poor and mean caricature of the gorgeous pageant Azim Bey had proposed -to himself? Still, it was a great thing to get out of the Palace for a -day, and the anticipated delights of playing Lord Paramount at the -prize-giving consoled the boy under his disappointment. - -The ride from the Palace to the Mission-house was undertaken in the -quietest part of the day, when there were few people in the streets, -and it passed without any hostile manifestation or even any -recognition of the riders. This fact delighted Cecil, but her pupil -seemed to be a little piqued. He had been looking forward to an -exciting and perilous transit, and this was rather tame in comparison; -but his grievance was forgotten when the Mission-house courtyard was -safely reached, and he found that the buildings were decorated with -flags, and that all the school-children were drawn up in line to -receive him. When once he had dismounted, he drew himself up with an -exact imitation of his father’s rather pompous stride on State -occasions, greeted Dr and Mrs Yehudi and Mr and Mrs Schad with great -urbanity, and passed on to the house with them between the lines of -children, bowing graciously right and left in his progress, as Cecil -had told him was the custom of royalty in England. At the examination -which followed he sat gravely in his chair and made sage remarks on -what he heard, while the musical drill delighted him excessively. He -distributed the prizes without the least shyness or awkwardness, and -consoled the less fortunate children with sweets, a form of comfort -which appealed very strongly to himself. He was an interested -spectator of the games which followed, and of the feast to which the -children at length sat down, and only consented to tear himself away -at Cecil’s repeated entreaties, assuring his hosts that he had enjoyed -himself extremely, and would have liked to remain until night. - -Cecil was not so happy, for during the latter part of the time she had -been on thorns lest anything should happen to prevent their getting -safely back through the city. With all her haste it was the cool of -the day when they emerged from the gate of the Mission-house, a time -at which the streets were at their fullest. She dared not order her -cavalcade to quicken their pace, for fear of attracting attention, but -her precaution was in vain, for her pupil was recognised as they -passed through a crowd collected at the street corner, and they were -soon followed by a number of ill-conditioned men and boys making -uncomplimentary remarks in Arabic. Azim Bey waxed exceedingly wroth at -this, and wanted to order Masûd and the donkey-boys to charge the -crowd, but Cecil succeeded in restraining him. She could not, however, -keep him from exchanging defiances with his ragged escort, a -proceeding which improved the temper of neither. - -“I will have your heads cut off! You shall be impaled upon the walls!” -shrieked the little fellow at last, and the crowd replied by derisive -laughter and ominous threats directed against himself and the foreign -woman, heaping special abuse on Cecil. - -“These people not good, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, coming to her -mistress’s bridle-rein. “Some one from the harem gone tell them who we -are, and they kill us. We should get away from them. See, there is a -house with door open. Perhaps we find shelter there.” - -Cecil repeated what Um Yusuf had said to her pupil, and Azim Bey, -somewhat frightened now, consented to adopt the plan proposed. The -donkeys’ heads were quickly turned in the direction of the house, and -before the astonished owners realised what was happening, the party -were all inside the courtyard and the door shut and fastened. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - A DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT. - -When the people of the house discovered the identity of their -uninvited guests, the welcome which they offered them was the reverse -of warm. All Azim Bey’s threats and promises could not induce them to -allow him and his attendants to remain in the shelter of the courtyard -until a messenger could be despatched to the Palace and return with a -military escort; indeed they could scarcely be restrained from -thrusting them out again to the mob, who were clamouring at the gate. -It was some time before largely increased offers could win them over -to consent to a compromise, namely, to let the whole party out by a -back door leading into an unfrequented street, from which, through -many twists and turnings, the Palace might be reached. - -“But we cannot all go together,” said Azim Bey, “or they will -recognise us again. We must separate.” - -“Never!” cried Cecil, resolutely. - -“Oh, you and I will keep together, mademoiselle. What I mean is, that -we must not leave the house again as a large party. The two nurses -will mount our donkeys and go with the servants. You and I will depart -by ourselves.” - -“Not unless you are disguised,” said Cecil. “For you to go in that -dress would simply be to let yourself be murdered.” - -“The disguise will not be difficult,” he cried, tearing off his long -black coat and unbuckling his little sword. “Now if the good people of -this house will give us in exchange for these an old _abba_ and -_kaffiyeh_, I shall be unrecognisable. As for you, mademoiselle, no -one could know you. You look just like any Baghdadi lady in a sheet -and yellow slippers.” - -The owners of the house could not resist the advantageous offer made -them, and Cecil, seeing in the bold stroke proposed their only chance, -allowed it to be accepted. A ragged old cloak, with the orthodox brown -and white stripes, and a torn head-handkerchief, fastened round the -brow by a rope of twisted wool, which kept it well down over the face, -made Azim Bey a most realistic-looking little Arab, and Cecil felt -that it was very unlikely that he would be recognised in his disguise. -The mob in front of the house had become quieter by this time, and old -Ayesha, the Bey’s nurse, proposed that she and her fellow-servants -should leave the house by the front door a few minutes after he and -Cecil had stolen out at the back, thus leading the crowd to believe -that the two most important members of the party were still within. -Cecil objected to this as sending the servants into unnecessary -danger, but Um Yusuf assured her that without herself and the Bey they -would in all probability be able to pass through the streets in -safety, and she allowed herself to be overruled. - -“Go with the women, O Masûd,” said Azim Bey to the faithful negro, -who was following them to the back door. - -“God forbid, O my lord!” said Masûd, stolidly. “Am I not here to -attend upon my lord and mademoiselle, and shall I leave them?” - -“Go thy way, O Masûd!” cried Azim Bey, impatiently. “Thou art as well -known in Baghdad as the tower of the Lady Zubeydeh (upon whom be -peace) itself, and shall we be slain for the sake of thy black face?” - -“My lord is very wise, and his servant will obey him,” returned -Masûd, and marched back to the other servants. - -The door was cautiously opened, and Cecil, clasping the hand of her -little pupil, and holding her sheet in the proper way so as to hide -all but her eyes, quickly found herself in a narrow lane behind the -house. The way had been explained to them, and they started off -briskly, scarcely speaking. Azim Bey found this adventure exciting -enough to satisfy even his bold aspirations, and Cecil was afraid to -begin a conversation, lest her foreign accents should attract the -notice of any one in the houses on either side. Presently the lane led -them into a quiet street, where little knots of people were standing -talking and others were going about their business in a leisurely kind -of way, and mingling with these they passed on unnoticed. Next they -had to go through one of the bazaars, where business was pretty well -over for the day, and where groups of disappointed buyers and -unsuccessful salesmen were discussing the crops and abusing the Pasha. -Still they were unrecognised, but when they had nearly passed through -the bazaar they came upon a blind beggar, who was sitting on the -ground, with his hand held out, asking for alms. Before Cecil could -stop him, Azim Bey took a coin from his pocket and threw it to him. It -was a gold piece, and the mendicant called down blessings on his head -as he picked it up. But others had noticed it also, and a crowd of -beggars seemed to start up from the very ground as they thronged from -their various stations and niches, exhibiting their sores and -deformities, and demanding charity rather than entreating it. - -“_Voici une foule de gens qui vont nous suivre de nouveau, -mademoiselle_,” said Azim Bey, as the shopkeepers and their gossips, -attracted by the hubbub, joined the crowd and tried to get a glimpse -of these generous strangers. At the sound of the unfamiliar tongue -they started and looked curiously at the pair, and a quick buzz went -round among them. Cecil grasped her pupil’s hand and dragged him on, -once more feeling ready to shake him for his foolishness, but it was -evident that the men around had understood who they were, for they -closed up as if to hustle them. Intent only on escaping, Cecil led her -charge down the first turning they reached, and they hurried on -breathlessly, through narrow echoing alleys, with houses almost -meeting overhead, while behind them came the sound of many feet. The -lanes afforded great facilities for eluding a foe, and Cecil and Azim -Bey turned and doubled until they were tired. At last they came out on -an open space with a well in it, and found their enemies awaiting -them--a motley crowd of rough-looking men, with a sprinkling of impish -boys and witch-like old women. A yell arose from the crowd as soon as -the fugitives were seen, and Cecil turned and fled once more, dragging -the boy with her. For a few moments they ran back along the way they -had come (no easy task, as any one who has tried to run in loose -slippers along a back alley of Baghdad, unpaved and uneven, will -confess), then found themselves at a place where two ways met, -hesitated, chose one at random, and came face to face with a -detachment of their pursuers. They were doubly pursued now, as they -turned back and took the other path, and stones and pieces of rubbish -began to hurtle through the air. Suddenly Cecil reeled against the -wall and loosed her hold of her pupil’s hand. - -“Go on, Bey,” she gasped, “I am spent. I can’t go any farther, but you -may get away. Run on a little--creep into some house and hide. Oh, go, -go!” as the yells of the enemy approached. - -“I shall not go,” returned the boy, stoutly, pulling out a jewelled -dagger about three inches long. “I am going to fight for you, -mademoiselle, and if they kill you they shall kill me too.” - -“Come on again, then,” panted Cecil, spurred forward by the fear of -causing the death of her gallant little pupil, and she struggled on a -few steps farther. Then a stone struck her on the shoulder, and she -tottered and clutched at Azim Bey for support. - -“I can’t go on,” she murmured, and the crowd behind, catching a -glimpse of her and guessing her exhausted condition, set up a -triumphant yell. Goaded on by the sound, she and her pupil made a last -dash round a corner into another lane, where they came face to face -with Charlie Egerton, who was walking serenely along, cigar in mouth. - -“Miss Anstruther!” he gasped, and away went the cigar, and Charlie -caught Cecil as she swayed to and fro. - -“They are hunting us, monsieur!” cried Azim Bey, in great excitement. -“They wish to massacre us! Take care of mademoiselle. As for me, I am -going to attack that rabble there.” - -“Don’t let him go,” sobbed Cecil, feebly, as the boy unsheathed his -dagger anew and started out against the foe, and Charlie grasped the -situation. - -“Nonsense, Bey; put up that penknife of yours, or keep it until we get -to close quarters. Hang on to my coat and come with me.” - -To hear his highly-prized dagger called a penknife mortified Azim Bey -excessively, and his dignity was also wounded by the familiar tone; -but he pocketed his pride and obeyed, holding on to Charlie’s coat on -one side while the wearer supported Cecil along with as much -tenderness as was compatible with extreme haste. The mob had rushed -round the corner by this time, expecting to find an easy prey, but the -change in the aspect of affairs rather staggered them, and they -followed on in sullen silence for a little while, until their courage -revived on realising that Charlie was alone and apparently unarmed. -Once more the stones began to fly. One struck Charlie on the head, and -Cecil received a blow on the ankle which nearly threw her to the -ground. - -“Brutes!” muttered Charlie, savagely, casting a hasty glance around in -search of some place of refuge. None was visible, and he turned to -Azim Bey, and said in his most reassuring tones, “This is warm work, -Bey; rather too much of a good thing, in fact. Now suppose you see -whether you can get Miss Anstruther on a little, while I try some -practice with my revolver?” - -“Don’t keep him back with me; send him on,” said Cecil. “Do you -remember who he is?” - -“Dear me! I forgot that I had Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s son to look after,” -said Charlie. “Well, Bey, run on, and make for the Residency as fast -as you can.” - -“I will not!” cried Azim Bey, indignantly. “My father is Pasha, and I -am a gentleman. Shall I leave a lady to perish? No! I will rather shed -the last drop of my blood.” - -“That’s a brave little chap!” said Charlie. “Now let Miss Anstruther -lean upon your shoulder for a minute;” and he drew a revolver from his -pocket, and turning, presented it at the foremost of the mob, who were -by this time unpleasantly near. The front rank recoiled precipitately, -and Charlie seized the opportunity. - -“Take my arm again, Miss Anstruther. Hold on tight, Bey. We have not -much farther to go now.” - -They got on a little way, Cecil stumbling along with clenched teeth -and brow drawn with pain. Then the mob began to press on them again, -and Charlie fired over their heads. This daunted them a little, but -they quickly came on anew, headed by a ferocious-looking ruffian who -got near enough to make a snatch at Azim Bey. The boy struck out -valiantly with his dagger, and Charlie turned and shot through the -wrist the man who had seized him. This excited the pursuers to fury, -and Charlie was obliged to walk backwards, threatening the crowd with -his revolver, and doing his best to support Cecil at the same time. -Happily the lane was so narrow that he was able to foil all attempts -at passing him, for if these had succeeded the mob could easily have -surrounded and annihilated the three fugitives, but they had a -wholesome fear of the revolver in a spot where only two could -comfortably walk abreast. - -“Four shots more,” said Charlie, half audibly, after a short -experience of the difficulties of his present mode of progression, -“and the Residency is still---- We shall never reach it at this rate. -Here, Bey, you run on until you come to the Residency, and tell them -to have the gate open and to call out the guard. Run your hardest, and -tell them we are in for a row.” - -“I will not run,” said Azim Bey. “I am not a coward. Do you run on, -monsieur, and leave me to defend mademoiselle.” - -Charlie stamped with impatience, and his revolver went off without his -intending it. He turned to the Bey with a very ugly look on his face, -and uttered words which it took long for the Pasha’s son to forgive or -forget. - -“Look here, small boy,” he said, “you will obey orders, if you please. -Do you think I would bother myself with you if I didn’t care more for -Miss Anstruther’s finger-tip than for the whole of your wretched -little body? I might have been able to defend her alone, but you are -endangering us both. I tell you what, if you don’t go, I’ll put a -bullet through your head, and have no more trouble with you. The only -good you can do is to run on and give my message, and fetch help. If -you don’t, mademoiselle’s death will lie at your door.” - -Away went Azim Bey, in a tumult of rage, indignation, and disgust, -hard to imagine and impossible to describe. Charlie heard him running -off, and calculated mentally how long he would be in reaching the -Residency, and how long in returning with help. Almost at the same -moment he found that he was deciding, half mechanically, on which of -the leaders of the mob he should bestow his last three shots. He had -some more cartridges with him, but he could not load with one hand, -and Cecil was clinging, half-unconscious, to his left arm. Moreover, -if the crowd saw him stop to load, they would be upon him instantly. - -Meanwhile Azim Bey, rushing on, had found that the lane led into the -street in which the Residency stood. Running up to the gate, he was -stopped by the Sepoy sentry, who refused absolutely to allow him to -enter. Here was a blow. - -“Slave!” cried the boy, in a frenzy, “dost thou refuse me admittance? -Thou knowest not that I am Azim Bey, the Pasha-Governor’s son?” - -To this the sentry, seeing only a small boy in a high state of -excitement, with worn and ragged clothes splashed and mud-bespattered, -replied merely by the Eastern equivalent of “Tell that to the -marines,” coupled with a little good advice as to civility of -language, and continued to bar the passage. Azim Bey turned pale. - -“I must get in!” he cried. “The men of the city are murdering Mdlle. -Antaza. Show me the Balio Bey, your officer, the Mother of Teeth--any -one--they will know me and send help.” - -But the sentry still smiled in grim incredulity, not unmixed with -anger at the boy’s disrespectful reference to Lady Haigh; and Azim Bey -threw himself on the ground and cast dust upon his head, and wept and -stormed in his despair. The more he cursed, the more the sentry -laughed, until the noise attracted the attention of Captain Rossiter, -an Engineer officer who was making the Residency his headquarters -during a series of surveys which he was carrying out for the Indian -Government within the borders of the pashalik, and who had lately been -present at a _fête_ at the Palace, where Azim Bey had seen him. He -happened to be crossing the courtyard, and hearing the din, came to -see what was the matter. To him Azim Bey rushed, and clinging to his -hand, told his tale of woe, while the tears poured down his grimy -little face. The tale was very incoherent, and, moreover, it was -related in a strange mixture of tongues; but Captain Rossiter -understood enough of it to send him flying madly out into the street -and down the lane, with as many of the Sepoys as he could collect at -his heels, Azim Bey staggering after them, almost too much exhausted -to walk. - -They arrived at the scene of action in the nick of time, to find -Charlie, his last shot fired, standing at bay in an angle of the wall, -with the fainting Cecil all in a heap on the ground behind him, while -he was doing his best to defend himself with the butt-end of the -revolver. The arrival of the reinforcements turned the scale. The mob -fled before the onslaught of the hated Hindus, and Charlie and Captain -Rossiter lifted Cecil up, and half-carried her the rest of the way -between them. Azim Bey, picked up on the return journey, was hoisted -on the shoulders of one of the men, and they retraced their steps, to -find that they must force their way through a large and angry crowd -which had gathered in the street, and was hurling defiances at the -Residency. All eyes were turned on them as they emerged from the lane, -and a moment’s hesitation would have been fatal. A yell of execration -went up, a hundred hands were grasping missiles and were about to hurl -them, but Captain Rossiter said something quickly to Charlie, and gave -a sharp order. The Sepoys closed around, the two Englishmen caught up -Cecil and carried her across the street at a run, and before the mob -had guessed what was going to be done, they were parted as though by a -wedge, the gate of the Residency was gained, and their intended -victims were out of reach, the stones and potsherds which they threw -clattering on the stout doors as these were shut fast, and barred and -bolted from within. - -“Sharp work!” said Captain Rossiter to Charlie, wiping his face. “I -say, I must go and report to the chief. You and Lady Haigh will look -after Miss Anstruther, I suppose? She looks pretty bad.” - -He went off to Sir Dugald’s office at once, and told him what had -happened. Sir Dugald received the news with a look of weary -resignation most piteous to behold. His whole diplomatic life was a -struggle against the occurrence of what are euphemistically called -“complications,” and here was one brewing literally at his very door. -He finished the sentence he was writing, folded his papers and locked -them up in a drawer, carefully restoring the key to its place on his -watch-chain, but as he walked across the courtyard with Captain -Rossiter, his perturbation made itself audible in disjointed -mutterings. - -“Why couldn’t they have taken refuge anywhere rather than here? That -fellow Egerton is bound to bring trouble wherever he goes. On my word, -it’s ‘heads you win, tails I lose,’ with a vengeance. If the mob -attack us, blood won’t wash it out, and if we fire on them we shall -have a blood-feud with all the Arabs in the country. Bringing that -child here, too, as if to proclaim that we support Ahmed Khémi in all -his wretched grinding oppression. We shall be identified with him in -the Baghdadi mind for years. Subadar, turn out the guard.” - -The last sentence was addressed to the Sepoy officer, who was eagerly -awaiting the order, and the soldiers marched down to the gate, where -was gathered a crowd of clerks, servants, interpreters, cavasses, and -the other motley hangers-on of a consulate in the East, besides a -number of people from outside who considered themselves “under -protection,” and always sought the Residency in haste at the first -sign of a riot. These were all listening, pale with fear, to the -repeated crashes as the mob amused themselves by throwing stones at -the gate, but they made way with grateful confidence for Sir Dugald as -he advanced, his face absolutely impassive once more, and examined the -bars and bolts. - -“So long as they are content with this,” he said to Captain Rossiter, -“we are all right. It’s an insult to the flag, of course, but an -apology will set it right. But if they get tired of throwing stones -and making no impression, we must still try and keep them off without -coming absolutely to blows. I will leave you in charge of the gate, -Rossiter, but there must be no firing with ball except in the very -last resort. Ah, listen to those mad idiots outside! They are trying -to provoke the Sepoys. Send the men back to fetch sand-bags or -anything that will strengthen the gate. Either keep them busy or keep -them out of hearing.” - -Tired of throwing stones without result, the mob were now resorting to -hard words. One man after another stood up at a safe distance and -howled insults at the Sepoys, their families, and their whole -ancestry, and any particularly telling phrase was caught up and echoed -by the crowd. Sir Dugald’s brow was furrowed with anxiety as he slowly -retraced his steps from the gate, for these Sepoys were fresh from -India, full of memories of annual conflicts with Moslems at the Hûli -and the Moharram, and he could not tell how long they would stand the -provocation they were receiving. From the river-terrace he now sent -off a messenger to the Palace, informing the Pasha of the situation, -and begging him to send a sufficient force of soldiers to secure his -son’s safety and to enable him to return home, either by land or -water. And meanwhile he lamented that this “complication” should have -happened, as was only natural, at a time when the gunboat was away -down the river. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - IN SEARCH OF HEALTH. - -While Sir Dugald was taking his measures of precaution, Cecil had -been carried into one of the rooms on the ground-floor of the outer -court, and laid on the divan. Charlie rushed off to his surgery for -bandages, and sent a servant to fetch Lady Haigh, who came at once, -breathless and astonished, but capable and resourceful as ever. The -first step necessary was to get rid of Azim Bey, who was crouched in a -heap on the divan, looking like a little Eastern idol in very reduced -circumstances, and to turn him over to the care of Sir Dugald’s Indian -valet for some necessary personal attention. But the last rush through -the yelling mob seemed to have shaken the boy’s nerve, for he was -trembling and shivering, and his face was whitey-brown with fear. To -Lady Haigh he looked exactly like a monkey in mid-winter, but she -could not help pitying him as he shrank and cowered at every fresh -shout of the mob outside. To her greeting and advice he paid but -little heed. - -“They are all saying we shall be killed, madame,” with a nod in the -direction of the knot of frightened servants near the gate, “and if we -are to be killed, why trouble about one’s appearance? It is destiny?” - -“It is your destiny just now to go with Chanda Lal, and have a bath -and some clean clothes, if any one here has any small enough,” said -Charlie, returning with his bandages. “Now then, young man, off with -you,” and he evicted the boy summarily from the divan, and impelled -him in the right direction with a gentle shove. Charlie was the -surgeon now, not by any means the courtier, and he was not accustomed -to have his orders disobeyed. - -The business of dressing the wounded ankle was a long and painful one, -and Cecil fainted again before it was over. Charlie fetched a -restorative and administered it, and was leaving the room quietly, -with an injunction to Lady Haigh not to allow the patient to be -disturbed, when Cecil opened her eyes and half sat up. - -“Oh, Dr Egerton!” she cried, and Charlie came back at once. “You -mustn’t think me ungrateful,” she said, brokenly. “I do want to thank -you--I can never tell you how much--for coming to our rescue as you -did, and for saving us, especially the Bey. How should I ever have -faced his father if anything had happened to him?” - -“Especially the Bey?” repeated Charlie, slowly. “Well, I can’t agree -with you there, Miss Anstruther; but I’m glad he’s all right, if you -are pleased. He’s not a bad little beggar, and I shouldn’t wonder if -he turns out rather well after all, now that you have got him in -hand.” This was a great concession, but Charlie was in an appreciative -and magnanimous mood. - -“I don’t know what would have happened to us if you hadn’t been -there,” pursued Cecil, excitedly. “I thought it was all over, I could -not move another step, and then we came round that corner, and you -were there, and we were saved.” There was a hysterical catch in her -voice, but she hurried on. “What would they have done to us, do you -suppose? I can’t help thinking of that money-lender’s wife and -children, don’t you remember? Their house was destroyed, and they were -dragged out into the street, and trodden to death--trodden to -death--by the crowd. And that was in this very province. They might -have done the same to us--think of it!” and she broke into hard -gasping sobs. - -“But you are not to think of it,” said Charlie, authoritatively, his -professional instincts aroused. “You will make yourself really ill, -perhaps bring on fever. What you are to do is to lie quietly here and -rest, and Cousin Elma will sit with you and talk to you.” - -“But they are at the gate--they may break in at any moment,” and Cecil -looked round with terrified eyes. - -“Oh, nonsense!” said Charlie. “Why, we have the Sepoys and Rossiter, -and any number of men, to defend the place. Look at Cousin Elma; she -isn’t a bit frightened, and I know that if she thought there was any -real danger she would be seeing what she could do to help in the -defence. Now, Miss Anstruther, lie down again and try to go to sleep, -and I promise you that if I see any signs of the mob’s being likely to -get in, I will come and carry you up to the roof. We can hold out -there for any length of time. You can trust me, you know.” - -“Indeed I can,” said Cecil, putting her hand into his. - -“Then that is a bargain,” said Charlie, retaining the hand; “and now I -must go and see whether I can give any help at the gate.” - -“Good-bye, then,” said Cecil. “No, not good-bye, _auf wiedersehen_.” - -“Yes, _au revoir_,” said Charlie, audaciously seizing the opportunity -to kiss the hand he held, regardless of the glance of burning -indignation which he received from Lady Haigh over Cecil’s head. It -was at this extremely unpropitious moment that Azim Bey elected to -return, fresh from the manipulations of Chanda Lal, and gorgeous in -the best raiment of the young son of the Armenian major-domo. He stood -transfixed for a moment at the door, astonishment making him dumb, -then withdrew behind the curtain, and pounced upon Charlie as he came -out. - -“How dare you, monsieur?” he cried, flinging himself upon him like a -wild cat. “You shall not look at mademoiselle like that. She is my -mademoiselle, she is not yours. I will not have you touch her hand, -you----” And here followed a string of outrageous epithets in very -choice Arabic, a language extremely rich in such words, and lending -itself abundantly to purposes of abuse. - -“Stop that,” said Charlie, giving the boy a shake which sobered him, -and putting him down on the divan with no very gentle hand. “You are -the Pasha’s son, are you? Why, you are as bad as the most foul-mouthed -little blackguard in the streets. Don’t let me hear any more of such -language, and don’t talk any nonsense to Miss Anstruther, or -I’ll--I’ll keep her here at the Residency for six months on a medical -certificate!” - -And Charlie went off whistling to the gate, only to be reminded by Sir -Dugald that he was a non-combatant, and ordered to remain in the rear -unless matters came to extremities, an order which seemed to him -somewhat ludicrously unfair after the events of the day. As for Azim -Bey, he shook his small fist after Charlie’s retreating form, and -then, peeping round the curtain, glared solemnly and ferociously at -Cecil. He found her, however, quite unconscious of his gaze, for the -exhaustion had returned again after the momentary excitement, and she -was lying still with closed eyes. Obeying Lady Haigh’s warning finger, -Azim Bey tiptoed noiselessly into the room, and took up his post again -on the divan, where he seemed inclined to remain. But this did not -suit Lady Haigh, for the boy’s unchildlike ways always irritated her, -and his fixed and solemn gaze now made her feel nervous, and she -suggested that he should go up to the housetop and see what was going -on. This he was graciously pleased to do, seeing that Charlie was -safely out of the way, and for the next half hour he occupied himself -satisfactorily in keeping Lady Haigh acquainted with all the details -of the situation. The mob had temporarily turned their attention from -the Residency to the shops near, which they were pillaging in search -of arms, and Azim Bey’s shrill little voice grew excited as he -described the scene. But a more important discovery than the -damascened sword-blades and old-fashioned matchlocks, which were all -that could be obtained from the armourers’ shops, and which did not -promise to be of much use against an enemy protected by stone walls, -was a great beam of wood, which was now dragged up in triumph by the -mob with the evident intention of its being used as a battering-ram. - -Things began to look serious at this point, and Sir Dugald ordered the -Sepoys to be posted at the windows commanding the space in front of -the gate, whence they might pick off the assailants if they ventured -to come to close quarters. The non-combatants now took the place of -the Sepoys in bringing bags of earth to strengthen the gate on the -inside, and the more warlike among them got out such weapons as they -happened to possess, with the intention of giving the enemy a warm -reception if they succeeded in forcing their way in. The female -portion of the establishment, with the natural instinct of seeking -companionship in times of terror, crowded into the room where Lady -Haigh was watching over Cecil, and there lamented their hard fate in -tones of abject fear. Charlie, on his way to the gate from his -surgery, looked in to reassure them, and also to entreat that they -would make less noise, but found that they rejected all his comfort. -To give them something to do, he allowed them to move Cecil into the -inner court, and establish her at the foot of the staircase which led -to the roof, so as to be ready to retreat thither in case it was -necessary. Aided by the combined exertions of all the women, and also -by the encouraging remarks of Azim Bey, the move was effected; but it -caused Cecil too much pain for her to be willing to attempt the -stairs. In vain did her pupil offer her his place, from whence she -might obtain an excellent view of all that was to be seen; the -exertion of mounting to the roof was too great, and she dropped down -on the cushions which had been placed for her in the corner, where the -staircase shielded her from the strong rays of the setting sun. - -The men in charge of the battering-ram seemed to have been deterred -from using it by the sight of Sir Dugald’s preparations, and they were -now gathered together at a safe distance from the gate, squabbling -noisily over their engine of warfare, and apparently trying each to -persuade the other to lead the attack. The main body of the besiegers -kept up a desultory shower of stones at the gate, varied by a flight -directed at the roof when any one was visible there, and Sir Dugald -sent up orders that the women were to keep well below the parapet, and -not to show themselves. Azim Bey was in high glee as he dodged the -stones, and did his best to return them to the senders; but Lady Haigh -chafed under his father’s delay in sending relief. - -“It’s all very well, my dear,” she said to Cecil, “but I shouldn’t -wonder if this riot came in very opportunely for the Pasha. Here he -has the chance of getting rid at once of Azim Bey, who is so -unpopular, and whose very existence drives the Arabs to quarrel, and -of the Balio Bey, who is always giving him good advice. Ah, you may -laugh, but did you ever know any one to like the person who gave him -good advice? Ahmed Khémi Pasha hates Sir Dugald because he knows that -if he had done as he advised all along this would not have happened, -and what could be a neater way of revenging himself than to let the -mob have time to break in and massacre us all? He could punish them -afterwards, and so escape all blame.” - -“But what would he do if Azim Bey were killed?” asked Cecil, with a -feeble smile, caused by Lady Haigh’s ineradicable suspiciousness. - -“Do? Why, make it up with Hussein Bey, and so have everything -comfortable in the Palace and the city and the whole pashalik, of -course,” replied Lady Haigh, promptly. - -Cecil was about to remark that in such a case the Pasha would probably -find it hard to deal with the Hajar Arabs, who had adopted Azim Bey’s -cause so zealously; but Lady Haigh was summoned to the roof at this -point by a cry of joy from the Bey himself, who called out that there -was a squadron of cavalry advancing from each end of the street into -which the Residency gate opened. The two bodies were approaching each -other, slowly and determinedly, forcing the sullen mob before them as -they came. The men who had been squabbling over the battering-ram -seemed all at once to determine to unite against this new foe, and -turned to oppose them, whereupon a scene began which made Lady Haigh -retreat down the stairs into the court in horror, but which caused -Azim Bey to clap his hands and shout. The soldiers, with their heavy -sabres, mowed down the mob as they advanced, until the few who were -left broke their ranks and did their best to shrink close to the walls -on either side and slip past the horses. The orders of the troops were -evidently to secure the safety of the Residency and its inhabitants -first, and to leave the punishment of the insurgents until afterwards, -for when once the way was clear they allowed the survivors to escape -if they could. - -Azim Bey had been cheering on the soldiers from his coign of vantage -on the house-top, but he was the first to descend, and was ready to -meet them when the gate was opened. His fear and his anger and his -excitement had now alike passed away, and he was his usual courteous, -grown-up little self, thanking Sir Dugald for his hospitality and -protection, and Captain Rossiter and the Sepoys for their timely aid. -Notwithstanding his affability, however, he displayed great anxiety to -get back to the Palace, and would not hear of allowing Cecil to remain -at the Residency even for the night, in spite of Lady Haigh’s -declaring that she would not permit her to leave it. It was obviously -impossible for her to mount a donkey, and Charlie was firm on this -point, although, remembering his encounter with Azim Bey, he kept in -the background as much as he could, for fear of getting Cecil into -trouble with her pupil and his father. Baghdad could produce a few -carriages, but the streets were far too rough and narrow to admit of -their use. At last an antiquated litter, borne by two mules, was -procured from the Palace, and Cecil was helped into it and made -comfortable with cushions. Then the gold-embroidered curtains were -drawn, and the procession started, Azim Bey riding in front of the -litter on a horse lent by Sir Dugald, while the soldiers formed an -escort on either side. - -“Do you know, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, as the party at the -Residency lingered on the verandah after dinner to discuss the -exciting events of the day, “I fancy”--he lowered his voice as he -glanced across at Sir Dugald and Captain Rossiter, who were deep in an -argument on the probable effects of the battering-ram if it had been -used--“I can’t help thinking that that small boy has taken it into his -head to be jealous.” - -“It’s quite possible, Charlie. My youngest brother was frantically -jealous when I was engaged, though you mayn’t believe it.” - -“But that was quite different. He had something to take hold of; but -really I can’t think what that little wretch has seen--until to-day, -at any rate.” - -“Charlie, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, in her most maternal tone, “let -me give you one piece of advice. You are perfectly at liberty to think -yourself a fool if you like, but never let yourself imagine that Azim -Bey is one. If he ever permits you to think so, that will only show -how well he is fooling you.” - -Charlie had leisure to think over this unpalatable remark in the days -that followed, for he and Cecil did not meet again for some time. -Cecil’s foot was very painful, and the pain, combined with the shock -of that eventful day, brought on another attack of fever, which spread -mingled anxiety and hope among the European colony at Baghdad. The -authorities at the French Consulate rejoiced in anticipation of -Cecil’s final removal from the scene, and were prepared with a -candidate of unexceptionable qualifications to supply her place. The -Austrian representative, while preserving an appearance of decorous -sympathy, had his eye on an elderly relative of his own who had -occupied a position in a princely family, and was well suited, both by -character and training, to tread the tortuous paths of domestic -diplomacy. A casual remark dropped by the French Consul in Azim Bey’s -hearing enlightened him as to the intrigues that were maturing, and -the speculations that were abroad as to the issue of his dear -mademoiselle’s illness, and threw him into a pitiable state. He passed -his time in alternate fits of wild despair and petulant anger, which -so affected his father that he sent for his own physician, who was -attending the patient, and ordered him, on pain of death, to effect -her recovery--a command which was received by the hapless man of -medicine with an impassive “If God pleases, it shall be as my lord -wills.” Lady Haigh also was untiring in her care. She came to see -Cecil every day, and often sat with her for hours, only to meet, when -she left the Palace, the reproaches of Charlie, who invariably -accompanied her to the gate, and tried warning, entreaty, and menace -in vain to induce her to take him in with her. - -“She ought to see an English doctor,” he urged. “What can this man -know about English constitutions? I have no confidence in him.” - -“But I have every confidence in him,” responded Lady Haigh, severely; -“and so has Sir Dugald, and so has the Pasha. Why, you know he was -trained in Germany. Besides, Cecil herself has expressed no wish for a -change of doctors (and I really can’t wonder at it, after your -behaviour the last time you saw her); and you know it would be -absolutely unprofessional for you to intrude uninvited on one of the -_hakim bashi’s_ cases.” - -“What do I care about professional etiquette in such a case?” cried -Charlie. “Besides, if we come to that, she was my patient first. -Cousin Elma, let me see her.” - -“No, indeed,” said Lady Haigh, resolutely. “You let me in for one -_faux pas_, Charlie, when you frightened me into sending you to the -Palace before, and that is not a pleasant thing for a woman in my -position to have to remember. How it is that we have never had any -remonstrance about your invasion of the harem precincts on that -occasion I cannot imagine, unless you bribed Masûd heavily. Well, -there is not going to be any repetition of that sort of thing. Cecil -is getting on perfectly well, and Um Yusuf and old Ayesha and Basmeh -Kalfa all nurse her devotedly, so you must be content with that.” - -And very much against his will, Charlie was obliged to be content with -that, and did not even see Cecil when she was better, for as soon as -she was convalescent she was sent with Azim Bey and their attendants -to the house of Naimeh Khanum, the Pasha’s married daughter, at -Hillah, to recruit. The journey of fifty miles was performed in great -state, under the conduct of a large escort of mounted Bashi Bazouks. -Three of the Pasha’s own horses, with splendid trappings, were led in -the forefront of the procession, and flags and kettle-drums gave it a -martial air. The way lay entirely through the desert, and the prospect -was always the same, the wide sandy plains being crossed and recrossed -by the dry channels of the ancient irrigation canals, now choked and -useless, even the drinking-water having to be carried in leathern -bottles. At night halts were made at the fortified khans on the road, -where the terror of the Pasha’s name proved sufficient to ensure the -provision of all necessaries for the travellers. The journey was taken -in easy stages, that Cecil’s strength might not be overtasked, and it -was not until four days after leaving Baghdad that the palm-groves and -the mighty rubbish-heaps of Hillah came in sight. Cecil felt her -strength and her enthusiasm revive at the prospect. Before her lay the -ruins of Babylon! She entreated that they might turn aside to visit -them at once, but Um Yusuf proved most unsympathetic, and scornfully -refused to communicate her mistress’s wish to the leader of the -caravan. Who cared about old ruins, haunted by ghouls and jinn, and -just at the fever-time too? Did Mdlle. Antaza wish to throw her life -away? Cecil yielded with a sigh, and the procession passed on through -the palm-groves, where the ripening dates hung like bunches of golden -grapes, to the house of Said Bey, Naimeh Khanum’s husband, who was the -military governor of Hillah. - -Here Cecil and her pupil passed several quiet weeks. They did little -exploring, for Cecil was not strong enough for it, and Azim Bey was -deterred by fear of the jinn, but antiquities in abundance were -brought to them to purchase by the Jews of the place, who spent their -lives in searching for them. Azim Bey passed most of his time in his -brother-in-law’s company, riding out with him to hunt, and assisting -him to review his troops, to the intense amusement of Said Bey, who -was a big jolly man, the son of an Irish renegade who had entered the -Turkish service, and preserved some of the national characteristics -even among his oriental surroundings. As for Cecil, she resigned -herself to a thoroughly Eastern existence as a denizen of the harem, -and became better acquainted with the manners and customs of its -inhabitants than she had had opportunity to be during her stay in -Baghdad. Said Bey’s mother was dead, as Naimeh Khanum informed her -with evident relief and gratitude to Providence, and the household was -therefore under the rule of the young wife, who was now much occupied -with a wonderful baby son, of whom Azim Bey was intensely jealous, as -he always was of every one and everything that interfered with the -attention he conceived to be due to his imperious little self. The -proud mother, who had herself enjoyed for a short time the advantage -of the teaching of a European governess, was eager to consult Cecil as -to the best way of educating her boy when he grew older, and many were -the anxious discussions they held under the date-palms in the garden -or in the evening on the terrace. Naimeh Khanum’s lovely face appeared -on almost every page of Cecil’s sketch-book, only rivalled in -popularity by endless studies of the great mounds of Babylon, seen -under every possible variety of light and shade, and the English girl -felt herself strangely drawn to the oriental, who looked out from her -cage at the unknown world with eager inquisitive eyes. They used to -spend hours in conversation, Cecil sketching, Naimeh Khanum busy with -her baby, until the warning cry of “_Dastûr!_” announced the return -of Said Bey, and Cecil would wrap her veil round her and retire to the -temporary schoolroom, where her pupil would be waiting to tell her of -the day’s adventures. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - INSTRUCTION AND INTROSPECTION. - -On the last evening of her stay at Hillah, Cecil became acquainted -with an interesting fact concerning Azim Bey which at once touched and -amused her. “A marriage had been arranged” for him long ago with -Safieh Khanum, the little daughter of the Pasha of Mosul, and the -wedding would take place when the bridegroom reached his eighteenth -year. - -“My grandmother arranged it,” said Naimeh Khanum, playing with the -bits of red stuff which were sewn to her baby’s cap to keep off the -evil eye. “The Pasha is a man of the old school, and a very rigid -Mussulman, and the Um-ul-Pasha thinks that Safieh Khanum will keep my -brother back from becoming altogether a Frangi.” - -“But have they never seen one another, poor little things?” asked -Cecil. “What a pity that you couldn’t have asked the little girl to -stay with you while we were here. They might have taken a fancy to -each other.” - -“_Fi donc_, mademoiselle!” laughed Naimeh Khanum. “You don’t think -that Safieh Khanum’s parents would ever have allowed such a thing? -Besides, in no case would she be allowed to come near you, or under -your influence. They would be afraid of your making her a Christian.” - -“But Azim Bey is always with me,” objected Cecil. - -“That is different,” said Azim Bey’s sister; “he is a boy. They know -that there is no danger for him. But what has Islam for a woman?” - -“Have you felt this, Khanum?” asked Cecil, in surprise. - -“How can I help it? I have read your books, I have seen the difference -between your life and ours,” said Naimeh Khanum. “Our people think -justly that there is little need for fear in the case of boys like my -brother. They read of Christianity, they see your laws and their -results, they think it is all very good. They are also taught our -religion, and they say: ‘It is destiny. I was born a Mussulman. My -father and all my ancestors were good Moslems. Why should I change a -religion that was good enough for them?’ In this way they agree -together to dismiss the subject. They have many things to occupy their -thoughts, and if in their secret hearts they know that Christianity is -better, it does not trouble them themselves, and they say nothing to -any one else. They have all they want, but with us it is different. -All the long, long hours--what can we do but think and wish? They -should not have educated us, have let us read about your beautiful -life in Frangistan, if they wished us to remain contented with what -satisfied our grandmothers. We are tired of our jewels, and our -novels, and our embroidery; tired of making sweetmeats and eating -them; we are so tired--you cannot imagine how tired--of being shut up -always in the same rooms, with the same faces round us. We are not -like birds or wild animals, to be kept in cages, we have minds and -hearts, and we want to be able to go out in the world with our -husbands, and enter into all they do.” - -“But couldn’t you do that now--partially at least?” suggested Cecil, -diffidently, surprised by this passionate outburst from languid-eyed, -contented Naimeh Khanum. - -“How can we?” she asked. “Our husbands go out into society without us. -They meet the Frangi ladies, talk to them, dance with them, and then -come home to us, poor ignorant creatures, who cannot talk to them of -the things they care for, and don’t know how to please them when we -are most anxious to do it. Our husbands are the sun to us; we are less -than the moon to them.” - -“But how can any one help you if you don’t help yourselves?” asked -Cecil. - -“What are we to do?” asked Naimeh Khanum. “They say that our rights -are secured to us by law, but what we want is the sole right to our -own husbands. With that we might be able to do something, but how dare -a woman be anything but submissive when she may find herself divorced, -or set aside for another wife, on account of the slightest effort for -freedom? We need martyrs in our cause; but who will be the first? How -can a woman who loves her husband, slight as her hold is on him, -alienate herself from him deliberately?” - -“But you cannot fear anything of the kind with Said Bey,” said Cecil, -losing sight of the general question in this particular case. “He -would never set you aside for another wife.” - -“No, because I am the Pasha’s daughter. But he has the right. Suppose -my father fell into disgrace, or anything happened to my boy,” and she -made with a horrified look the sign for averting the evil eye, “who -would stand up for me then? Almost every one has more than one wife; -why should I expect my husband to be the exception? There is my -father, he is considered a liberal-minded man, of most advanced views, -and yet he has just married a fourth wife. It was all arranged when -you were ill, so I suppose you did not hear much about it; but she is -coming here with him to-morrow. She is Jamileh[03] Khanum, the -daughter of his old friend, Tahir Pasha. Her father is also a -reformer, and she has had an English governess, and been brought up -entirely _alla Franca_, but she can’t refuse to become the fourth wife -of a man almost old enough to be her grandfather.” - -“And what can remedy this?” asked Cecil. - -“Only Christianity,” said Naimeh Khanum. “They have tried culture and -civilisation, but it has done no good. Our men do not care to raise us -even to their own level.” - -“Then why are you not a Christian?” asked Cecil. - -“Because I have too much to leave,” said Naimeh Khanum, slowly and -deliberately. “I cannot give up my husband and child. As it says in -one of your books which I have read, I have given hostages to fortune. -Listen! there is Said Bey coming in. I must go to meet him. Adieu, -mademoiselle.” - -And she was gone, leaving Cecil to meditate on the unexpected -revelation she had received. It was with deep sadness and remorse that -she took her way to the room where Azim Bey was waiting for her, for -who could say how much she might have helped this struggling soul in -all these weeks if she had only known? Poor Naimeh Khanum! she was -longing for the temporal blessings of Christianity without thought of -the spiritual. They had no further opportunity for conversation, but -Cecil did the best she could for her friend. Wrapping up carefully a -little New Testament in Arabic which she had received from Dr Yehudi, -she placed it where Naimeh Khanum would be sure to find it, with a -prayer that the seeker might be led into the light. - -The next day Ahmed Khémi Pasha arrived, accompanied by his bride, and -attended by a magnificent retinue. There was only time for a formal -interchange of visits between Naimeh Khanum and her new stepmother, -for the Pasha was making a progress through his dominions, and it was -already late in the year. It would have been equally undesirable for -Azim Bey and his governess to return to Baghdad in the Pasha’s -absence, and to remain at Hillah, tasking the resources of Said Bey -for the maintenance of themselves and their attendants, and their -cavalcade was accordingly merged in the larger one, they themselves -losing their comparative importance, and becoming part of the harem -procession under the lead of Jamileh Khanum, who travelled in state at -its head in a highly ornamental _takhtrevan_, or mule-litter. - -In honour of his marriage, the Pasha had remitted a large proportion -of the obnoxious taxes which had contributed so largely to swell the -distress of the province, and this had restored much of his -popularity. There was also every prospect of a good corn and fruit -harvest, the latter very important to the dwellers in the regions -around Baghdad; and as time went on, and this promise was fulfilled, -past irritation was forgotten, and the people returned to their usual -condition of sleepy contentment. Azim Bey attracted no unfriendly -attention, and Cecil went through the tour in safe and undistinguished -obscurity. Jamileh Khanum monopolised the attention of the Pasha, and -was the undisputed head of her own portion of the assemblage. She was -a young lady of some shrewdness and much ambition, and had signalised -the short period she had spent at Baghdad by such a violent quarrel -with the Um-ul-Pasha, that her husband dared not leave her behind in -the Palace. With a natural instinct to like everything that the -Um-ul-Pasha disliked, she had come prepared to patronise Azim Bey and -Mademoiselle Antaza, and she and Cecil got on very well together. -England was their great theme of conversation, for Jamileh Khanum -cherished a secret hope that she might one day prevail upon the Pasha -to take her there on a visit. With this in view, she was eager to -learn from Cecil all she could with regard to English customs and -etiquette, although she maintained throughout a lively sense of the -difference of position between the great lady and the governess. Cecil -found her very amusing, but Azim Bey, who was wont to sit by and look -on at the conversations with unwinking black eyes, mistrusted the -“little lady mother,” as he called his father’s youngest wife. - -“It is all petting and sweetmeats now, mademoiselle,” he said to his -governess, “but wait until she has a son of her own.” - -“But that can make no difference to you, Bey,” said Cecil. “You have -his Excellency’s promise, given to your mother.” - -“On whom be peace!” said Azim Bey, quickly. “But if I were dead, -mademoiselle? You have seen already how greatly I am beloved in the -harem.” - -“Don’t be so suspicious,” said Cecil. “I thought you prided yourself -on your strength of mind?” - -“So be it, mademoiselle,” said the boy. “What is to happen will -happen. We shall see.” - -In spite of these little rubs, however, the journeying life was very -pleasant to Cecil, and she even looked forward with a certain degree -of dread to the time when she must exchange the blue wrapper and high -boots she wore in riding for the trailing dress and white sheet of the -Palace. Everything out here was so entirely new, and she was separated -from the troublesome personal questions and problems which had worried -her lately at Baghdad. In these the chief factor was Charlie Egerton. -She had never seen him since the day of the riot, when he had so -suddenly and unwarrantably kissed her hand, but this was by her own -wish, for she felt that she did not know how to meet him again. Anger -at his presumption, and rage against herself for the display of -weakness which had emboldened him to the act, combined to embitter her -against him. And yet she could not keep him out of her thoughts. Her -mind dwelt on the scene at the Residency so constantly that she became -alarmed. What did all this mean? She must get away from Dr Egerton’s -disturbing influence, and think the matter out calmly. With this in -view, she had acquiesced in hurrying on her departure from Baghdad -without seeing him, and she had since taken full advantage of her -opportunity for thought. - -She had never exactly formulated to herself her views of an ideal -lover, but she was vaguely conscious that, allowing for the difference -of standpoint, her requirements were much on a level with those of the -seventeenth-century poet who sang the praises of the “not impossible -she.” And here, as she could not help perceiving, was the real -lover--Charlie Egerton, frivolous, unstable, unsuccessful. These were -the hard epithets she applied to him, while all the while admitting to -herself that she could not help liking him, and that there was -something noble and quixotic about his unfortunate efforts to keep -other people up to their duty. But here again the softness of her own -mood alarmed her, and she proceeded to examine into her feelings with -all the systematic thoroughness of a practised student of mental -science. After long cogitation, and much analysis of complex emotions -into their elements, she came to the conclusion that she was not in -love with Charlie. She even assured herself that she despised him a -little, and this was obviously an insurmountable bar to love. But the -chief drawback to the introspective method of studying mental -phenomena is, as the text-books tell us, the danger of the mind’s -forgetting its own states, or even misinterpreting them, owing to the -distracting influence of personal fears and wishes. This Cecil forgot, -while assuring herself that her clear duty now was to show Charlie -plainly what her feelings were. It would be unkind to allow him to -labour any longer under a delusion, and she became at last almost -anxious to return to Baghdad, for the sake of undeceiving him. - -By the time that this desirable conclusion was reached, the steps of -the travellers were really turned homewards. Jamileh Khanum was tired -of wandering, and if the truth must be told, was “spoiling for a -fight” with the Um-ul-Pasha. Where every one was anxious to do what -she wished, there was no excuse for bad temper, and she felt that her -choicest weapons were being wasted, while the enemy was doubtless -making the best use of her time by entrenching herself more strongly. -Accordingly, the young lady intimated to her husband that the tour had -lasted long enough, and the Pasha gave orders for the return. His -Excellency’s long absence had so far made the heart of the Baghdadis -grow fonder that they pressed to meet him and greeted him with -acclamations, which were especially pleasing to him as tending to -prove that the Balio Bey had been wrong in his dismal -prognostications. Even Azim Bey received a special ovation, and the -official who had acted as the Pasha’s deputy in his absence reported -that Sir Dugald Haigh, and the English colony generally, had quite -regained their former popularity. - -As for Cecil, she felt as though she were returning home, and the -sight of the Residency almost brought tears to her eyes. She could -scarcely wait until Sunday to get news of her friends, and they on -their part gave her the warmest of welcomes when her donkey reached -the great gate. Lady Haigh exclaimed on her improved appearance, Sir -Dugald paid her a courtly compliment on her looks, and Captain -Rossiter and the other young men who were employed at the Consulate in -various capacities expressed in their faces as much pleasure and -admiration as they dared. But there was something wanting even in this -wealth of greeting. Charlie Egerton did not appear, nor add his voice -to the chorus. Although Cecil had come back resolved to snub and -repress him,--for his own good, of course,--she could not help feeling -that there was undeserved unkindness in this absolute neglect. He must -have known that she was coming home, and that he should have chosen -this special occasion on which to visit old Isaac Azevedo, or even Dr -Yehudi, showed a callousness which she had not expected in him. It was -not until she was closeted with Lady Haigh for a good talk, after -morning service, that she heard the reason of Charlie’s absence. - -“My dear,” cried Lady Haigh, when Cecil had remarked casually that she -supposed Dr Egerton was visiting some of his friends, “Charlie isn’t -in Baghdad at all. Haven’t you heard? He has been sent off on an -expedition into the Bakhtiari country, and may be away for months.” - -“Indeed!” said Cecil. It was all that she could say. - -“Yes, indeed. And you never heard about it? Well, I will tell you. You -know that there has been a good deal of talk lately about a mysterious -epidemic which has sprung up among the Bakhtiaris, and seemed to be -spreading along the Gulf? The Indian Government were getting very -nervous about it, and Sir Dugald has had a great deal of -correspondence with them on the subject. At last it was suggested that -a medical commission should visit the district, and try to find out -the root of the disease, and see exactly what conditions caused it to -spread. The idea was taken up, and it was settled that the commission -should consist of a doctor sent by the Shah (the Bakhtiaris are under -Persia, you know), and Charlie, representing our Government. They know -his worth, you see, though they have treated him so badly. And so he -started, just a fortnight ago now.” - -“And of course he was glad to go? It must have been like going back to -his old ways again,” said Cecil. Lady Haigh turned upon her a look of -scorn. - -“Charlie has quite given up his old wandering ways,” she said, “and no -one ought to know that better than you, Cecil. He has settled down -into steady work, and gets on splendidly with Sir Dugald. Of course he -was glad to get the medical experience involved in this journey--I -won’t pretend he wasn’t. But he was most unwilling to go just when you -were coming home; in fact,” added Lady Haigh, forgetting her previous -laudation of Charlie’s steady work, “it was all I could do to keep him -from throwing up the whole thing, and he is determined to be back by -Christmas.” - -Lady Haigh might have told much more if she had wished to do so, but -she was a discreet woman, and was rarely tempted into obscuring a -general effect by excess of detail. Charlie had not accepted the fact -of his temporary exile by any means in a spirit of resignation, and -his long-suffering cousin had had to endure a good deal before he -finally departed. His chief objection to leaving his post had been the -possibility that some epidemic might break out in his absence, and -sweep away the whole European population of Baghdad; but Lady Haigh -pooh-poohed his anxiety, and assured him that the surgeon of the -_Nausicaa_ was fully competent to fill his place. - -“And you know, Charlie,” she said, “this appointment will bring you -before the public, and may do you a great deal of good. It is a thing -after your own heart, and you ought to be grateful for it.” - -“What I am thinking of, Cousin Elma,” he replied, solemnly, “is that -if I am away at Christmas, I may lose everything that would make all -this any good to me.” - -“My dear boy, what can you mean?” asked Lady Haigh, revolving various -possibilities in her mind. “Oh, I know!” she cried at last. “You mean -that Cecil’s first two years at Baghdad will be over a day or two -before Christmas, and that she can’t go on without signing a new -agreement?” - -“And that before she signs it I am to have my chance,” added Charlie. - -“Yes, of course,” said Lady Haigh, hastily. “You have been a very good -boy, Charlie, and obeyed me splendidly, but lately I have noticed a -sort of I-bide-my-time air about you, which didn’t look well. You -shall have your chance, certainly, but I wouldn’t advise you to be too -sure about it.” - -“I am not,” said Charlie, “but I mean to have it.” - -“Well, my dear boy,” went on his cousin, soothingly, “travelling as -lightly as you do, you will be well able to be back before Christmas, -you see. The new agreement need not be signed until Christmas Eve, and -if you are not back then it will be your own fault.” - -“But something might prevent me,” he said, dolefully; “and only think -if I came back and found that she had bound herself for another three -years of slavery to that child!” - -“You think that you could prevent it if you were here?” asked Lady -Haigh, in the tone that she had used once before when casting a doubt -on the likelihood of Charlie’s success. - -“I don’t know,” he said, humbly enough, “but I almost think, if I had -her alone, and could make her listen to me, that I could.” - -“Well, that you must settle for yourself, of course. I will do my best -for you, Charlie. Supposing (but I don’t in the least anticipate it) -that you are not back by Christmas Eve, I will tell Cecil the state of -things before she signs the agreement. It may be that she is more -homesick and tired of her work than she seems, and that she will be -willing to listen to the proposal, but I can’t promise you success. I -only say I will do what I can, for you have been very obedient, and -behaved very well. That’s all I can promise.” - -“Thank you awfully, Cousin Elma. It’s very good of you. Only wouldn’t -it save you the trouble if I wrote to her now, before I went?” - -“What! you haven’t had enough of Azim Bey and his suspicions yet?” -asked Lady Haigh; and as Charlie shrugged his shoulders in silence, -she went on with much animation, “Charlie, I really must have it out -with you, though I know it’s no good, but I will never refer to it -again. Has it ever struck you how very foolish you are? Either by -misfortune or by your own fault you have lost most of your chances, -and come to be regarded either as a cranky clever fellow or as a -pleasant good sort of man, but a most unlucky one. You ought to be -thankful if you could get the most commonplace, unsophisticated girl -that was ever brought up in a remote country village at home to take -you, but no--you must fly high. You fall in love with a girl who is -clever herself and can’t help knowing it, who has had unusual -advantages in the way of education, and whose talents command a fair -market value. It is to her interest not to marry you, and you will -probably get into trouble even if you are merely engaged, and she -laughs at you continually. Why don’t you give her up?” - -“I don’t know,” said Charlie, meditatively. “Because I love her, I -suppose, Cousin Elma. I had rather she laughed at me than forgot me, -at any rate.” - -“My dear boy!” said Lady Haigh, and kissed him, impulsively. “If only -Cecil knew you as you really are!” - -But Cecil did not know, and yet she cried herself to sleep when she -went back to the Palace that night. It could not have been on account -of Charlie’s absence, for she had satisfied herself that she did not -love him, and it could scarcely have been because he had missed his -snubbing, and therefore it must have been, as she said to herself the -next morning, that she was tired and excited from seeing so many old -friends again. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - A SPOKE IN HIS WHEEL. - -Neither Cecil nor Azim Bey ever referred in words to the approaching -termination of the former’s engagement. Cecil had never in the -slightest degree hesitated in her resolution to bind herself to remain -at Baghdad for the further period of three years. The letters from -Whitcliffe had of late been so uniformly cheerful in tone with respect -to Fitz and Terry, for the expenses of whose education she had now for -two years been wholly responsible, that she could not but conquer her -longing to see the dear home faces once more, and decide to remain a -member of his Excellency’s household. Then, too, her little pupil had -endeared himself to her, jealous and exacting though he often was, and -she could not bear to think of leaving him. Thus her mind was made up, -and she had no anticipation of anything that might interfere to -prevent the signing of the agreement. - -As for Azim Bey, his silence did not arise from lack of interest in -the matter. He knew as well as Charlie did when the first agreement -lapsed, and throughout the tour from which they had just returned his -mind had been busy on the subject. Over and over again, when he seemed -merely to be contemplating the beauties of nature, or listening -attentively to the morals which Cecil did her best to deduce for him -from the various scenes and incidents of their daily life, he was -occupied in planning schemes by which his governess’s further stay -might be ensured. It was clear to him that the cardinal point was that -Charlie should be absent from Baghdad when the agreement was signed. -Azim Bey’s dislike for the surgeon of the Consulate was not a feeling -of gradual growth, but had sprung up, fully matured, on the occasion -of Charlie’s unauthorised intrusion into the harem. With a good deal -of natural shrewdness, and a great deal of precocity, stimulated by -the unchildlike life he had led, and the books in which he had -delighted, the boy had divined Charlie’s secret, and marked him at -once as an enemy. By catechising Cecil after all her visits to the -Residency, he arrived at the knowledge that she always saw Dr Egerton -there; and he remarked that she generally spoke of him with a sigh, -but what this sigh meant he could not decide. In any case, he was -fully persuaded that it would be far better for mademoiselle to remain -with him for the next three years than to marry Dr Egerton. She was -doing so much with her earnings for those brothers of hers (whom Azim -Bey regarded with interest not unmingled with contempt, as creatures -who existed for little else but to play pranks for his entertainment) -that she certainly ought not to leave them in the lurch. He had never -given a second thought to his loudly expressed intention of marrying -her himself--which indeed had only been uttered in the hope of -shocking his grandmother--and had resigned himself with philosophic -indifference to the prospect of the bride who had been chosen for him; -but he had some idea that when his education was finished, his father, -or rather Jamileh Khanum, might find mademoiselle a suitable husband -in some rich Armenian, so that she might continue to live in Baghdad, -and he might consult her when he needed advice. In any case, Dr -Egerton, who had unintentionally made himself peculiarly disagreeable -to the Bey, was out of the question, and must be got rid of. - -It might have been supposed that the simplest plan would have been to -appeal to Cecil herself, and secure her promise to stay on in her -situation; but such a proceeding was quite contrary to Azim Bey’s -character and habits. His instinct was to work underground, and he -heartily detested anything like plain questions and straightforward -answers. “People in love always told lies,” was the impression left -upon his mind by his French novels; and even if mademoiselle should -prove an exception, what good would it do to hear her say that she -meant to leave Baghdad? A straightforward answer of that kind could -not easily be explained away, whereas if everything were left in a -misty, nebulous condition, with nothing determined, and nothing -definite said, it ought to prove easy to find opportunities for action -and loopholes for interference. That mademoiselle might, quite without -her own knowledge, be managed into staying, if only Dr Egerton did not -appear and interrupt the process, he had no doubt, and he began to -revolve schemes for delaying his return. It was evident even now that -matters must be run very close if Charlie was to be back a week before -Christmas, and it seemed to Azim Bey that it ought not to be -impossible, considering the absence of roads and the difficulties of -obtaining transport in the Bakhtiari country, to make him arrive from -ten days to a fortnight late. This was all that would be necessary. - -It was easy to see what ought to be done; the difficulty now came in -of finding the person to do it. If only the Pasha had been in the -secret, private instructions from him to the khan-keepers along the -route to delay the progress of the travellers as much as possible, and -to the postmasters to show no particular zeal in providing -baggage-animals, would have settled everything; but Azim Bey did not -wish to call in his father’s help. It was doubtful even whether it -would have been given; for instructions of this kind, recommending -dilatoriness, had an unpleasant knack of becoming public at wrong -times, and the Pasha was always anxious not to give undue cause of -offence to the Balio Bey. In any case, his Excellency might think his -son’s desires inexpedient, and interfere to prevent their realisation; -and this would be much worse for Azim Bey than merely being thrown on -his own resources. Still, he found life very weary and perplexing -while he tried to think of the right person to employ as his -instrument in effecting his purpose. - -Masûd and the rest of the servants he dismissed from his thoughts at -once, they were too stolid, and would not make good intriguers. But -Azim Bey had not been brought up in an atmosphere of intrigue for -nothing; he knew exactly the kind of person who was fitted to -undertake what Charlie Egerton called “dirty work,” and the consuls, -more euphemistically, “secret missions.” Not quite for the first time, -he began to regret that he had cut himself off so entirely from M. -Karalampi, and to think that he might have refused his books without -scathing him so fiercely with virtuous indignation. There were plenty -of other disreputable Greek and Levantine hangers-on at the Palace who -might have been intrusted with the business, but men of this stamp -were always ready, if anything led to the failure of their -negotiations, to save themselves by splitting upon their employers. M. -Karalampi alone, in such a case, never betrayed the interests he -represented. He bore the blame of those involved and the scorn or -execration of outsiders, he submitted to have his credentials denied -and his action disavowed, and indemnified himself for it all on the -next occasion. Such traits made him invaluable, and had probably -contributed to his unusually long and successful career. - -When there is mischief to be done, it is seldom that tools are wanting -for the accomplishment of it, and when Azim Bey had been thinking of -M. Karalampi for some days as a possible helper, he suddenly found -himself face to face with him. It was in the early morning, when the -boy had gone to pay his usual visit to his father as he dressed. -Important despatches had just arrived, however, and the Pasha must not -be disturbed in the perusal of them. In a very bad temper, Azim Bey -settled himself in the anteroom, where visitors were wont to wait for -audience of his Excellency. Only one other person occupied the room at -present, and this was M. Karalampi, who saluted Azim Bey respectfully, -and then retired to the farthest corner, to intimate that he had no -desire to force himself upon him after the rebuff he had received more -than a year ago. From his distant seat, however, he watched the boy’s -face narrowly, and read the varying thoughts which passed through his -mind. Pride and eagerness were contending for the mastery, and M. -Karalampi watched for the right moment at which to intervene. He had -not heard any of the circumstances, but hastily coupling with the -deductions he drew from Azim Bey’s perturbed face, Charlie’s -often-repeated intention of returning before Christmas (for he was -well up in the gossip of the various consulates), he formed a working -hypothesis, and proceeded to put it to the test. Approaching the divan -on which Azim Bey was seated, he asked casually after the health of -Mademoiselle Antaza, “_cette dame si aimable et si savante_,” to whom -the Bey was so deeply attached. - -If Azim Bey had known that to the list of his employers M. Karalampi -had lately added the name of the Um-ul-Pasha, he might have been -suspicious, but he was so much relieved to find the conversation -brought without his assistance to the very subject he wished to reach, -that he answered politely at once that mademoiselle enjoyed the best -of health. - -“But the Bey Effendi will soon lose mademoiselle; is it not so?” was -M. Karalampi’s next question. - -“What do you mean, monsieur?” asked the boy, startled. - -M. Karalampi shrugged his shoulders. “All the world says that she will -marry at Christmas the surgeon of the English Consulate,” he said. - -“But she shall not,” cried Azim Bey. “Listen, monsieur; I need your -help. He must be delayed in returning. He is not to be killed, nor -hurt, because he saved mademoiselle and me in the riot, but simply -kept back. Manage this, and I am your friend for life.” - -To recover his old position in the Bey’s confidence was M. Karalampi’s -great object at this time, and he was also not averse to doing a bad -turn to Cecil, but he looked serious and reflective. - -“Do I understand you, Bey Effendi?” he asked. “There are to be -difficulties among the tribes, you say, and Dr Egerton is to be -detained for the sake of his own personal safety, while he is still at -some distance from Baghdad?” - -“Yes, that is it,” cried Azim Bey; “and no letters must pass.” - -“That goes without saying,” said M. Karalampi, “and it will not be -difficult to find a cause of quarrel between the Hajar and their -neighbours, the Fazz. But in the Bakhtiari country there are many -robbers, and Englishmen are brave. Why should not the caravan be -attacked, and Dr Egerton and the other doctor killed in repelling the -thieves? That would get rid of him altogether, and no one could ever -know.” - -Azim Bey turned a little pale. His schemes had not reached the point -of plotting murder, but the idea seemed to come so quickly and -naturally to M. Karalampi that he was afraid of appearing timid and -cowardly if he told him so. However, a happy thought occurred to him. - -“It is no use trying to work through the Bakhtiaris,” he said. “They -love the English, and might even tell him what we had arranged with -them to do. And the Arabs must not kill him, for the Balio Bey would -demand blood-money, and my father would be obliged to go to war with -my own people to get it paid. No, they must only keep him back, -protesting their love to the Pasha and to the English all the time. -They will not allow him to go to his death, they must say, and no man -can cross the Fazz country safely just then.” - -“The Bey Effendi is very wise,” said M. Karalampi, “and it rejoices me -to be able to serve him once more. But I must have some token from him -to show to the Hajar sheikhs, or they will laugh at my beard, and I -shall come back a fool.” - -With trembling fingers Azim Bey unfastened the Hajar amulet which his -Arab mother had hung round his neck when he was a baby. “It will bring -all the tribesmen of the Hajar to thy help if thou art in danger, my -son,” she had assured him, and his kinsmen in the tribe had told him -the same thing since. - -“Take it,” he said, “but give it back to me. No Hajar dare disregard -it. But take care not to leave it in the tents, lest Dr Egerton see -it, and perceive whose it is. Mademoiselle must never know of this.” - -“She never shall,” said M. Karalampi, and he departed with his prize. -Fortune had favoured him beyond his hopes, and he saw himself, in -imagination, restored to his former place in Azim Bey’s esteem, and -able to manipulate his actions in the interest of his other employers. -As for Azim Bey himself, he felt quite satisfied with the arrangement -he had made, and returned to his governess with a light heart and an -unclowded brow. - -Cecil’s visits to the Residency that autumn were almost confined to -the Sundays. She explained to Lady Haigh that she had arranged a -special course of study with her pupil, which must not on any account -be interrupted, after the desultory way in which the summer had been -spent, and she adhered to this plan with the utmost rigour, never -acknowledging, even to herself, that the Residency seemed in some way -empty and desolate just now. Sunday by Sunday she said to herself, -hopefully, “Perhaps he came back last night,” but the weeks passed on, -and he did not come, and Cecil cried herself to sleep at nights, and -assured herself all the time that she did not love him, and that it -was only because she was disappointed. Thus the days went by quietly -enough until Christmas week approached. Still Charlie had not -returned, although his letters to Lady Haigh announced that he had -started upon the homeward journey. They were rather despondent in -their tone, for his medical inquiries had occupied a longer time than -he had calculated, but they all breathed a spirit of unconquerable -determination to be back by the day before Christmas Eve, or die. Even -if he had to tramp from Mohammerah to Baghdad, he would do it. But he -reckoned without Azim Bey. - -Cecil was to spend Christmas at the Residency. From the morning of -Christmas Eve to the evening of Christmas Day she was to have her time -absolutely to herself, and on Christmas Eve Denarien Bey and other -officials were to bring the new agreement and present it for her -signature. Azim Bey watched her depart without misgivings. His plans -were laid securely, and if they did not come to a satisfactory -conclusion, M. Karalampi would pay the penalty. Cecil nodded and -kissed her hand to him as she started on her ride to the Residency, -and he noticed that her white sheet was fastened with the elaborately -wrought and jewelled brooch he had presented to her that morning, in -pursuance of what he understood was the correct English custom. He was -pleased with the honour shown to his gift, and accepted it as a good -omen, and therefore he waved his hand gaily to Cecil, and called out -that he would not torment old Ayesha, his nurse, more than he could -possibly help while she was away. - -Arrived at the Residency, Cecil found Lady Haigh in an extremely -perturbed state of mind. Charlie had not returned, and no notice of -his approach had been received; moreover, there were rumours of -troubles between the Hajar and the Fazz tribes in the very district -through which he had to pass. In the course of a few hours Denarien -Bey would bring the agreement to be signed, and if Charlie had not -returned by that time, she would be obliged to speak to Cecil on his -behalf, a prospect which filled her with nervous dread. To add to her -perplexities, she had all the Christmas decorations on her hands, as -well as the preparations for the Christmas Day festivities, in which -she was handicapped by an undying feud which existed between such of -the servants as were Hindus on one side, and Agoop Aga, the -major-domo, and the natives of the country, on the other. With a vague -idea of putting off the evil day, she accepted Cecil’s offer to see to -the decorations and the arrangement of the _menu_ for the morrow’s -dinner-party, and departed to look to the ways of her household. But -this delay was of no avail, for lunch-time arrived, and no Charlie. -Denarien Bey was coming at three o’clock, and with beating heart poor -Lady Haigh perceived that she must speak to Cecil. There was no time -to lose, and after lunch she called the girl into her boudoir and -prepared to make the attempt. She knew that she could not plead -Charlie’s cause with anything approaching the fervour he himself would -have used; nay, she had an uneasy consciousness that if Cecil accepted -him she would consider her an arrant fool for giving up her present -position for his sake. But she was fond of Charlie, and sympathised -with him on account of his patient waiting, and she felt herself bound -by her promise to do the best she could for him. - -“Cecil, my dear,” she said, when she had got Cecil settled at last, -after several vain attempts to reason her into a properly serious -state of mind, “Denarien Bey will come with the agreement very soon.” - -“Yes?” said Cecil, springing up from her chair and adjusting the -striped scarf which draped a portrait on the wall. “But don’t let us -talk of business now, Lady Haigh. These two days are my holidays, you -know, and I want to enjoy them. This is a new photograph of Sir -Dugald, isn’t it?” - -“Oh, my dear child,” entreated Lady Haigh, “do be serious. I have -something so very important to say to you. I don’t know how to say it, -but I promised Charlie, and I wish I hadn’t. Do listen to me quietly.” - -Cecil dropped into a chair, not that in which she had been sitting -before, but a low one in the shade of the curtain, and composed -herself to listen, for Lady Haigh’s voice sounded as though tears were -not far off. - -“Poor Charlie has not come back in time,” went on the elder lady, -sadly, “and he was so very anxious to speak to you himself. But I must -do it, or you will sign the agreement without knowing. He has been in -love with you a long time, Cecil, ever since he has known you, in -fact, and he wanted to ask you to marry him on the way up the river, -but I wouldn’t let him. I promised him that if he would let you alone -for the first two years, to give you a fair chance of seeing how you -could get on, he should speak to you before you signed the new -agreement. Well, he isn’t here, so I must speak instead. He is very -much in love with you, my dear, though I should think you know that as -well as I do, and if you don’t, Azim Bey does. He has some money of -his own, and Sir Dugald feels now that he can conscientiously put in a -good word for him with the Indian Government if there is any question -of another appointment, and he is a dear fellow. There! I know I am -not putting things properly, but I don’t know how to manage it. He -can’t bear to think of your slaving, as he calls it, with Azim Bey all -day; he wants you to be raised above the necessity of working for your -family. He need not stay out here, you know, if it were not that he -loves the East so much, he has a good property at home,--and he is a -generous fellow. I am sure I may say that your little brothers would -not suffer from the change. I might talk to you about a good position, -and all that sort of thing, but I don’t believe it would affect you. -All I can say is, Cecil, don’t let my blundering way of speaking for -him prejudice you against the poor fellow, for he really is head over -ears in love with you. Sometimes I think you don’t appreciate him -properly, but remember, he has waited patiently for two whole years, -and only refrained from speaking out of pure consideration for you, -lest you should be compromised in your new position. You have never -shown him any special encouragement, always laughing at him and -teasing him as you do, but he has never wavered, so if you can find it -in your heart to say yes, do be kind to the poor boy.” - -There was a few minutes’ silence, while the clock ticked heavily. Lady -Haigh glanced nervously at Cecil, sitting in the deep orange shade of -the curtain, but could read nothing from her face. At last the girl -spoke, slowly and with some hesitation. - -“I am glad you have spoken to me, Lady Haigh, for it seems to make it -easier--I mean--yes, it is easier--to see the right course than if Dr -Egerton had asked me himself. I think I am bound in honour to consider -my duty to my employer, and to go on with my work. The Pasha has acted -most kindly and honourably by me, and he wishes me to carry on Azim -Bey’s education. I can’t feel that it would be right, after all the -trouble and expense he has had, to throw up my situation for the sake -of a--well, of personal feelings. I think the Pasha would have a right -to say he didn’t think much of Christianity if I treated him in that -way, and I have tried not to hide my colours in the Palace. I think it -is only right for me to go on as I am.” - -“But you don’t mind my having told you, dear? You are not angry with -Charlie? What will you say to him?” - -“That is scarcely a fair question, Lady Haigh,” said Cecil, pausing -with her hand upon the door, but keeping very much in the shade of the -curtain; “or did Dr Egerton depute you to receive his answer as well -as to plead his cause?” - -“Ah, she shan’t get off like that,” said Lady Haigh to herself, as the -door closed behind her young friend. “Charlie shall have his chance -when he comes back and speak for himself, and I am very much mistaken -if he doesn’t get a little hope to help him through the next three -years.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - AFTER ALL---- - -But Christmas Eve passed on, the new agreement was brought and -signed, and still Charlie did not come. The other young men looked at -one another and laughed when they found that he had not appeared, and -one or two betrayed symptoms of an inclination to take his place and -monopolise Cecil. But they had no chance, as they were ready to -acknowledge ruefully at night; for even if Miss Anstruther had been -willing to let herself be monopolised, Lady Haigh would not have -allowed it. She was very particular in keeping the conversation -general in the drawing-room that evening, and in checking any tendency -towards confidential talks. Captain Rossiter did once by a bold stroke -succeed in getting Cecil to linger at the piano, trying over the -accompaniment of a new song which had just reached him from England; -but before he could guide the conversation round to anything more -interesting than key-notes and sharps, Lady Haigh moved over to a -chair close to the instrument, and the rest of the company followed. - -Cecil did not sleep much that night. She had made definitely the -momentous decision which had been confronting her for so long, and had -signed away her liberty for three years more, but it was not the -thought of this that kept her awake. She had heard Charlie Egerton’s -love declared, though not by himself, and the recollection made her -heart beat fast. Even if (and she was not quite so sure about this as -she had been a little while ago)--even if she did not love him, she -could not but feel touched both by his affection and his constancy. -But why had he not come back? Why, after declaring so openly his -intention of returning, had he lingered until after she had bound -herself to remain in Baghdad? What had detained him? Had anything -happened to involve him in one of the border disputes which were -continually occurring between the Arab tribes, or had the spell of the -old wandering life regained its power over him? If it were really the -latter, Cecil felt that he might as well spare himself the trouble of -coming back at all, so far as she was concerned. Ever since she had -first met him she had deliberately thrown her influence into the scale -against his nomadic tastes, trying to induce him to settle down -steadily, and do his best, by persistent attention to duty, to -counteract the effects of his earlier erratic proceedings. It was a -pity, she had felt sometimes, that a man whose nature revelled in the -unusual and the unconventional should be guided so strenuously into -the beaten track, where another, with natural gifts of a far less -remarkable order, would have filled his place with much more -satisfaction to himself and to his superiors. - -But it was all for Charlie’s own good. It must be to his advantage to -be held back from sacrificing all his prospects to the impulse of a -moment, and Lady Haigh had been unremitting in impressing upon Cecil -that whereas an eccentric, harum-scarum genius might do a great deal -in the way of contributions to inexact science, the Indian Government, -and indeed all governments, preferred the steady man who could be -trusted to keep in the line marked out for him. Almost unconsciously -Cecil had been setting this as a kind of test for Charlie in her own -mind, watching, with an interest which she believed was wholly ethical -and impersonal, his two years’ struggle to stick to his work and avoid -quarrelling with Sir Dugald. Hence she had come to the rather -one-sided conclusion that she would certainly have no more to do with -him if his efforts failed, while discreetly leaving a blank as to what -was to happen if they were crowned with success. But in any case, if -he could forget all that he had said, and the importance of haste, at -such a time as this, and linger among the Bakhtiaris or the Hajar, it -would be evident that his love was as little to be depended upon as -his persistence in any walk of life had formerly been. - -It was not wounded pride which actuated Cecil as she reasoned out this -conclusion with herself, nor was it lack of sympathy with Charlie in -the trials and worries of his uninteresting post at Baghdad. It was -simply that she felt the lack of stability in his character, and the -need there was for correcting it, and that she had a traitor on her -own side to crush, in the shape of the unreasoning attraction towards -Eastern and simpler modes of life which sometimes possessed herself. -With Charlie this feeling was a passion, but in her it came only very -occasionally into collision with her habitual fixedness of purpose and -invariable caution. Still, the very knowledge of the existence of this -tendency in herself made her harder upon Charlie, and more determined -to guide him in the safe middle path of daily duty steadily -performed,--just as we are all prone to correct with greater -willingness the faults we perceive in ourselves which are at variance -with our general character,--and she felt, as she reviewed her conduct -and advice mentally that night, that she could not reproach herself -with what she had done. But she had now something else to -consider--namely, what she was going to do--although the circumstances -seemed so uncertain that she felt herself justified in leaving the -matter open. Suppose Charlie had been unavoidably detained after all, -and that he returned within the next few days, would he speak to her -still, now that his speaking would come too late? She could not doubt -for a moment that he would, but when he did, what would he say? Yes, -and what would she say? These questions ran in her mind all night, in -spite of the wise procrastination she had exercised in determining to -leave the matter undecided. - -“I really wish,” she said pettishly to herself, when she saw in the -morning her pale face and tired eyes reflected in the glass--“I really -wish now that he would stay away until to-morrow, so that I could get -back to the Palace and be safe with Azim Bey without having to go -through all this.” And so much worried and perturbed did she feel at -the moment that she believed she meant what she said. - -The morning passed quietly. The party from the Residency rode over to -the Mission-house to join in the English service in the room which -served Dr Yehudi as a church, and which was decorated with -palm-branches and quaint devices arranged by the school-children, who -mustered afterwards to receive good advice and sweetmeats from Sir -Dugald, and presents from Lady Haigh and Cecil. Then the horses were -brought up again, and the visitors rode home, refusing to tax the -scanty resources of the Mission party by staying to lunch. At the -Residency the meal was despatched in haste, for all the members of the -British colony in Baghdad were expected to join in the Christmas -dinner that evening, and such a prospect necessitated a good deal of -preparation. Sir Dugald retired to his office to escape from the -bustle, and such of his subordinates as did not follow his example -found themselves impressed into Lady Haigh’s service for the purpose -of moving furniture, hanging up draperies, and otherwise altering the -appearance of the principal rooms. Cecil undertook the decoration of -the dinner-table, much to the indignation of the Indian butler, who -considered that he knew far more about dinner-parties than the Miss -Sahiba, and Lady Haigh superintended everything, driving white-clothed -servants before her in agitated troops. - -It was in the midst of all this turmoil that Charlie came home. Lady -Haigh heard him ride into the courtyard, and flew to greet him. - -“O, my dear boy!” she cried, as he dismounted and came to meet her, -“why didn’t you come before? You are too late.” - -“She has signed the agreement, then?” he asked, quickly. Lady Haigh -nodded, and he went on. “I thought as much. Thanks to that abominable -child, I believe (for you know his mother was one of the Hajar), I -have been detained in their tents for a week. They persisted that they -were at war with the Fazz, and that I could not go on except at the -risk of my life, and they kept me a regular prisoner. Twice I tried to -get away, and each time they brought me back. Yesterday I managed to -get hold of my revolvers, which they had hidden away, and we very -nearly had a big fight. I threatened to shoot them all if they would -not let me go, and at last they consented to disgorge the horses and -my things, and my boy Hanna and I came on at once. We parted company -this morning. He was to come on gently with the luggage, while I rode -hard, and now it is too late after all.” - -“My poor dear boy!” cried Lady Haigh, the tears rising in her -sympathetic eyes. “I did my best for you, really, but you see I could -not plead as you would have done, could I? But you shall speak to her -yourself. Leave it to me, and I will make an opportunity for you, only -it must be when there is no one about, that people may not begin to -talk.” - -“Thank you, Cousin Elma. It’s something like a condemned criminal’s -last interview with his friends, to give me one talk with her before -three years’ separation.” - -“You were always inclined to be discontented, Charlie,” said Lady -Haigh, reprovingly. “Be thankful for what you can get, and now go and -make yourself respectable.” - -He laughed, and betook himself in the direction of his own quarters. -Cecil, at work in the dining-room, heard his steps on the floor of the -verandah, and went on with her task of piling up crystallised fruits -on the dessert-dishes with trembling fingers. Perhaps he would not see -her as he passed. But he did. A casual glance into the room showed him -that she was standing there, and he went no farther. An insane impulse -seized her to run away when he came in, but she stood her ground, -though looking and feeling miserably guilty. Charlie caught both her -hands in his, and stood gazing into her flushed face with a look -before which her eyes fell. Then, almost before Farideh, the slipshod -handmaiden who was supposed to be assisting in the festive -preparations, had time to profit by the little distraction to the -extent of surreptitiously conveying an apricot to her mouth, he -recollected himself, and loosing his hold of Cecil’s hands, asked -eagerly-- - -“You will let me speak to you in private some time or other?” - -“Yes,” faltered Cecil, and he went out, while she, suddenly -discovering Farideh’s part in the little scene which had just been -enacted, taxed her with her guilt, and proceeded to give her a severe -scolding in somewhat imperfect Arabic, though her lips would quiver -sometimes with a smile in the sternest passages. - -Lady Haigh was very mysterious that evening. She would not let Cecil -go to dress for dinner until she herself could come too, and then she -accompanied her to her room, where they found the two maids, Um Yusuf -and Marta, gazing in speechless admiration at the contents of a great -box they had just unpacked. With tender care they had laid on the bed -a beautiful evening dress of soft, clinging white stuff, with borders -of golden embroidery in a classic pattern, and now they were gently -handling a white and gold cloak to match, and a fan of white feathers -with a golden mount. - -“My Christmas present to you, dear,” said Lady Haigh, kissing Cecil. -“I flatter myself I know what suits you, and I see my London -dressmaker has carried out my directions exactly. Let me see how you -look in it.” - -“O, Lady Haigh, you are too good!” gasped Cecil, fingering the -delicate fabric with intense delight. - -“Nonsense, Cecil! Do you think I didn’t know that you decided not to -order out a new evening dress from home, because you wanted to send -Fitz the money to get a camera with? I’m glad you like it, dear. If -you are so very pleased, show it by looking nice in the dress, and by -being kind to poor Charlie.” - -The last sentence was in a lower tone, but Cecil shook with mirth; the -idea of being bribed with a new dress to be kind to Charlie seemed so -ridiculous. The thought suddenly came to her of the uncontrollable -delight with which her little Irish stepmother would have viewed the -whole scene, more especially the part which concerned the unexpected -rewarding of her kindness to Fitz, and it was with difficulty that she -restrained herself from bursting into a peal of laughter. It did not -take long to array her in the wonderful white-and-gold dress, and even -the sedate Um Yusuf, as she clasped the folds upon the shoulder with -Azim Bey’s brooch as a finish, was moved into uttering words of -admiration. Lady Haigh and Marta were no whit behind in their praise, -and Cecil herself, on looking into the glass, felt that she could -scarcely recognise the gorgeous vision there reflected. - -Lady Haigh was also arrayed suitably to the greatness of the occasion, -and she and Cecil now donned their cloaks in preparation for crossing -the court, and rustled down to the great drawing-room, where Sir -Dugald was waiting with a long-suffering expression, his subordinates -hovering in the background and looking depressed. Lady Haigh cast a -last glance around to see that all was right, and then, satisfied that -the great room, with its fretted ceiling and walls inlaid with mirrors -set in beautiful mosaic of many-coloured marbles and gilded arabesque -work, was looking its best, took her place beside Sir Dugald with a -sigh of complacency. The guests soon began to arrive in their most -imposing attire, and the assembly became a miniature court. It was not -so difficult as usual, Cecil thought, to realise that one was in the -city of the Khalifs, now that the splendours of the place were -properly revealed by the aid of many wax-lights, and the rooms, at -other times empty and silent, were gay with bright costumes and -gorgeous Eastern draperies. But when the move into the dining-room was -made, the illusion was spoilt, for all was Anglo-Indian, and the -punkah, useless to-night, and the silent Hindu servants, though they -might at first seem to give an air of oriental stateliness to the -proceedings, were after all as alien to the old Baghdad as to older -Babylon. Cecil felt honestly grieved by the innovations years had -brought, and she had ample time to lament over them, for her neighbour -at the table was a stout and bald-headed elderly merchant, who devoted -himself to curry and other red-hot compounds with a singleness of -purpose which left him no opportunity for conversation. Opposite to -her Charlie was doing the agreeable to the wife of the American -Consul, a faded but still vivacious lady, who was talking shrilly of -Boston. The few Americans in Baghdad had united with their English -kinsfolk to-night in celebrating the old home festival, and the -English would fraternise with them in like manner when Thanksgiving -Day came round. - -The meal was a long one, for all the usual Christmas fare was _de -rigueur_, as were the orthodox Christmas customs, while there were a -number of toasts to be drunk at the close; but it was over at last, -and the gentlemen were not long in following the ladies into the -drawing-room. A number of other people who had only been invited to -the reception after the dinner-party now came dropping in, and Cecil -found herself seized upon by her friend Mrs Hagopidan, the lady in -whose defence she had broken a lance with Charlie not long after her -arrival in Baghdad. Myrta Hagopidan was a lively little person, an -Armenian by race, a native of British India by birth, and an -Englishwoman by aspiration. As schoolgirls she and Cecil had adored -the same governess, the lady who had been Cecil’s form-mistress at the -South Central having gone to India to take charge of the Poonah High -School, as has been already mentioned, and this bond of union drew -them very close together, although Mrs Hagopidan was pleased to affect -the ultra-smart in dress and conversation, and had a weakness for -talking about her “frocks,” for which, by the way, Worth was sometimes -responsible. She came rustling up now in a magnificent and utterly -indescribable costume of various shimmering hues, and demanded that -Cecil should take her up to the roof to see the view. - -“I’ve never seen the city by moonlight from here,” she said, “and -Captain Rossiter has been telling me that it’s quite too awfully -sweet. Take me up to the best place, for I daren’t go roaming about -Sir Dugald’s house alone without his leave, and I’m much too -frightened to ask for it. Put on a shawl or coat or something, for -it’s quite chilly.” - -And linking her arm in Cecil’s, Mrs Hagopidan drew her into the -cloakroom, whence she extracted a wonderful little wrap of her own, -all iridescent brocade and ostrich feathers, and then waited while -Cecil hunted for her white-and-gold cloak. Her little dark face looked -so mischievous and arch and winning, framed in the folds of her hood, -that Cecil kissed her there and then, at which Mrs Hagopidan laughed -until all her ostrich-feathers nodded wildly. - -“Don’t!” she cried, pushing Cecil away. “I don’t want to make any one -jealous; I’m simply an amiable and kind-hearted friend. There! that’s -your cloak, isn’t it? Put it on and come along.” - -They hurried up the steps together, Mrs Hagopidan continuing to talk -incessantly, so that Cecil was nearly exhausted before they had -reached the top, and was obliged to stop to laugh. - -“Lazy thing!” cried her companion. “You are stopping too soon. Only -two or three steps more, and I’m dying to see what is to be seen. Come -on. Why, there’s some one here!” - -A dark figure confronted them as they reached the top of the stairs, -and Cecil almost screamed, but she saw immediately who it was. - -“Myrta, you wretch!” she cried, “you have brought me here on false -pretences.” - -“Don’t excite yourself, my dear,” said Mrs Hagopidan, swiftly -descending the stairs to the landing, and sitting down on the lowest -step. “I said I was a kind and amiable friend, and I’m going to be. No -one shall interrupt you, I promise, and if any one tries to pass, it -will be over my body. Now, Dr Egerton, use your opportunity. Go over -to the other side of the roof, and I shan’t hear. You may count on me -to keep a good look-out.” - -“I don’t like being entrapped, Dr Egerton,” said Cecil. “I think I -will ask you to take me back to Lady Haigh.” - -“I don’t think you will,” said Charlie, quickly, “when you remember -how long I have been waiting for this talk with you, and how hard it -has been for me to get back here even now. I can trust you not to keep -me longer in suspense. Whatever my fate is, at least you will let me -know it at once.” - -This was reasonable enough, and Cecil could not withstand the appeal -to her sense of fairness. She walked across to the other side of the -roof, and sat down upon the wide parapet, looking at the shadowy -garden beneath, and at the river beyond, its broad surface flecked -with many wavering lights. Behind was the courtyard, partially -illuminated by the beams from the lighted windows of the drawing-room, -and farther still the town, with its winding, badly-lighted streets, -and its ghostly minarets and palm-trees. The strains of music floated -up to her, mingled with the more distant sounds of the city, but no -human being was visible anywhere, and it seemed as if the world held -only herself and Charlie. He was standing beside her, apparently -finding some difficulty in framing what he wanted to say. - -“I’ve longed to speak to you for years,” he burst out at last, “and -now that I have the opportunity I feel ashamed to use it, because I -know my speaking to you at all must seem to you such arrant cheek. I -have thought about it pretty often in the last week, and upon my word! -I can’t think of any conceivable earthly reason why you should marry -me, except that I love you.” - -He stopped, and then went on somewhat more freely. - -“Cousin Elma has told you how I wanted to speak to you two years ago, -and why I didn’t. That’s the reason, Cecil. It was because I loved -you, and I didn’t want to get you into trouble, and I have learned to -love you more and more since. I do love you, dear, and I have tried to -be a better man for your sake. I can’t talk much about that sort of -thing, you know, but I do see things more in the way you do than when -we first met. But I can’t say it as I should like,” he broke off -despairingly. “Whatever I say seems only to show me more and more how -utterly presumptuous I am. I know I could never hope that you could -care for me as I care for you, because I am such a wretched failure of -a fellow, but if you could love me just a little--if you could take me -on--well, just as a sort of pupil, you know--but I don’t mean that at -all. Will you marry me, Cecil?” - -“And if I say no?” asked Cecil, looking away over the river. - -“Now you are trying me, to see what I shall say,” he said. “You know, -if I said what I feel, it would be that I should throw up this place -at once and go off into the desert with the Arabs; and I know that -what you would like me to say would be that I should go on here -working steadily, as if nothing had happened. Well, dear, I will try, -but it will be awfully hard.” - -Cecil was touched to the heart. “Oh, Charlie, my poor boy!” she cried, -impulsively, and put her hands into his. He took them doubtfully, not -daring to accept the happy omen the action suggested. - -“Cecil, is it really--do you mean yes?” he asked, with bated breath. - -“Yes, I do,” said Cecil, hurriedly. “I have been a horrid, -calculating, conceited wretch. I’ve looked down on you, and laughed at -you, and never thought how much better you were than I was all the -time. I wish I was more worthy of you, Charlie.” - -“You? of me?” he asked. “Cecil, dear, don’t laugh at me now. You -really mean that you can love me? I don’t want you to marry me out of -pity, or anything that would make you unhappy. I can stand anything -rather than that.” - -“But I do mean yes,” murmured Cecil, brokenly. - -“But you are crying,” he said, with a man’s usual tact in such -matters. - -“I’m not,” said Cecil, indignantly. “Well, I suppose I’m homesick. No, -it’s not that. It’s because I have been wanting you so much all this -time, and you have come back at last.” - -“Please God, you shall never regret my coming back, dear,” he said, -gently, and drew her head down on his shoulder, where she cried -bitterly, to her own great astonishment and his alarm. It was not at -first that she could explain to him the mental conflict and strain of -the past few months, but she was able to assure him that her tears did -not spring from regret for the promise she had just given, and they -sat there on the parapet talking for a long time. Engrossed in each -other, they did not notice a long line of torch-bearers and horsemen -approaching the Residency from the direction of the Palace, and they -were struck with surprise when Mrs Hagopidan appeared suddenly at the -top of the steps, and looking studiously the wrong way, cried in a -thrilling whisper-- - -“Dr Egerton, you must go down at once. Azim Bey is at the door, and -Sir Dugald was asking for you. If you don’t put in an appearance, -there’ll be trouble. Do go at once.” - -“That abominable child!” cried Charlie, and obeyed. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - A MURDEROUS INTENT. - -“Well, dear?” cried Mrs Hagopidan, rushing to Cecil’s side, as -Charlie precipitated himself down the stairs, hurried across the -courtyard, and arrived at the gate just in time to take his place -behind Sir Dugald as the great doors were thrown open for Azim Bey’s -entrance, “is it all settled? You are glad now that I brought you here -on false pretences? Do tell me, have you enjoyed the hour or so which -you have spent in admiring the view?” - -“Nonsense, Myrta; we haven’t been there so long as that,” said Cecil, -half-vexed, but for all answer Mrs Hagopidan drew out a tiny gold -watch and exhibited its face. - -“It is undeniably an hour and a quarter since we left the -drawing-room,” she said, when Cecil, with an embarrassed laugh, had -recognised the truth of her statement. “Now do tell me, dear, have you -been finding out your fortune from the stars? I can tell you -something. Your fate is connected with that of a dark man, and your -happiness is threatened by a dark child, do you see? There’s a -separation somewhere, I am convinced, but of course a happy ending. -Don’t you think I tell fortunes beautifully?” - -“Myrta,” said Cecil, solemnly, “don’t be silly. You know you can’t -find out things from the stars.” - -“How do you know? At least you will allow that I have had plenty of -time this evening for studying them, haven’t I?” - -In the meantime Azim Bey had been received at the great gate of the -Residency, and conducted with all due solemnity to a chair placed for -him in the large drawing-room. When this had been accomplished, a -sense of constraint seemed to fall upon the party assembled, together -with a feeling of doubt as to what was to be done next. Music and -conversation had both been interrupted by the unexpected arrival, and -the intruder himself seemed as much at a loss as any one. He -scrutinised attentively the faces of those present, bestowed a -searching gaze on Charlie, and finally looked disappointed and a -little inclined to yawn. It was not until Lady Haigh ventured on a -civil inquiry as to the reason of this flattering and unlooked-for -visit that he brightened up. - -“I want mademoiselle,” he answered, becoming animated at once. “Where -is she? I came to fetch her. What have you done with her?” and he -looked at Charlie again, in a puzzled and suspicious way. - -Happily it was just at this moment that Cecil and Mrs Hagopidan -returned to the room, the latter with her arm linked in Cecil’s, and -at the sight, Azim Bey’s face beamed. He rose from his seat and -walked, for his innate dignity forbade his running, to meet them. - -“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, “I am so lonely! There have never been -two such long days since Baghdad was built. I am desolate without you. -I have teased Ayesha, I have had two of the servants beaten, I have -been very bad. Now come back.” - -“Not yet, Bey,” said Cecil, somewhat vexed, and yet touched by the -eagerness of the little fellow’s tone; “I can’t break up Lady Haigh’s -party in the middle of the evening. But you would like to stay, -wouldn’t you, and see how we keep Christmas in England? You have often -asked me about it, you know.” - -“And if Lady Haigh doesn’t mind, we will play some of the old -Christmas games,” put in Charlie, who was very much vexed, and not at -all touched, but wanted to make the best of the matter. - -“_You_ may play at Christmas games, M. le docteur, if you like,” -responded Azim Bey, fixing a stony gaze on Charlie, “but mademoiselle -shall sit by me and explain them all. She shall not play your -forfeits, your kissing under the mistletoe, with you.” - -“I never suggested that she should--in public, at any rate,” returned -Charlie, almost overcome by the idea of his kissing Cecil under the -mistletoe for Azim Bey’s edification. “I suppose you think that such a -proceeding would need a good deal of explanation, Bey?” - -“Madame,” said Azim Bey to Lady Haigh, turning in disgust from -Charlie’s flippancy, “may I ask that you will have the kindness to let -a chair be brought for mademoiselle, that she may sit beside me?” - -“Bey! Lady Haigh is standing. I cannot sit down until she does,” said -Cecil, and her pupil groaned, and requested that a chair might be -placed for Lady Haigh on the other side of him. Then, with Charlie as -master of the revels, the games began. Urged by an agonised whisper -from their leader, “For goodness’ sake, you fellows, let us send this -child home in a good temper,” the other young men threw themselves -nobly into the fray, and did their best to induct the bewildered Greek -and Armenian guests into the mysteries of blindman’s-buff and general -post. Meanwhile, Azim Bey sat very upright on his chair, demanding -from Cecil copious explanations of all that he witnessed, and -criticising the players liberally. Mrs Hagopidan he was at first -inclined to admire, but when he found that she was Cecil’s friend he -became jealous, and refused to have anything to say to her, at which -the lively little lady laughed as an excellent joke. Except for this, -however, Azim Bey seemed to enjoy the evening, if no one else did, for -it accorded exactly with his tastes and his ideas of pleasure to sit -still and look on while others supplied amusement for him. At length -the games came to a close, and Lady Haigh carried off Cecil to don her -Palace dress once more. When she came out of her room, with the great -white sheet over her arm, ready to put on, Charlie was on the verandah -waiting for her, and Lady Haigh discreetly returned into the room for -something she had forgotten. - -“I couldn’t let you go without one more word,” he said. “You must let -me give you this, dear.” - -It was a curiously wrought ring, set with pearls and rubies in a -quaint design, which produced the effect of two serpents twining round -one another, and Charlie explained that he had bought it in Basra two -years before. He did not mention that he had intended to offer it to -her then, had not Lady Haigh’s cruel fiat intervened, but Cecil -understood what he did not say, and let him put it on her finger. But -after a moment she started and took it off. - -“I mustn’t wear it yet, Charlie. You know that Azim Bey hasn’t heard -anything about our engagement, and I shall have to break it to him -carefully. I shouldn’t like him to find it out for himself, for it -would hurt his feelings so dreadfully to think I hadn’t told him, and -he would notice the ring at once and guess what it meant. I must -choose a favourable time for telling him, and try to bring him round -to take it pleasantly. I should be afraid he will be rather hard to -persuade; he is so fond of me, you know.” - -“So am I,” said Charlie, “and I don’t see what that wretched child has -to do with it. If only I could have got back yesterday, and saved you -from three more years of slavery!” - -“Don’t be too sure you could have done it,” said Cecil. “A duty is a -duty, you know, and I have a duty to Azim Bey.” - -“And so you have to me. But I’m not going to be selfish, Cecil. You -have made me happier to-night than I could ever have hoped or deserved -to be, and if I couldn’t wait ten years for you, if it was necessary, -I should be a fool and a brute. Besides, after going through the last -two years I know how to be thankful for what I have got. You don’t -know how bad I felt when any of the other fellows spoke to you.” - -“Did you?” said Cecil. “Do you know, I should have thought you had -taken good care that they shouldn’t have the chance.” - -“What! have I been such a dog in the manger as all that?” cried -Charlie, aghast. “Did I worry you, Cecil? But still you let me do it.” - -“You see, I took an interest in you,” said Cecil, calmly. “Lady Haigh -commended you to my care in a sort of way.” - -“Lady Haigh is reluctantly compelled to ask you what time of night you -imagine it to be, good people,” said a voice from within the room, and -the two on the verandah started guiltily. - -“She’s just ready, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, taking the sheet from -Cecil’s arm, and offering to help her put it on. But he was not an -expert lady’s-maid, and the process took a considerable time--still, -even if his face did approach hers more nearly than was absolutely -necessary, they were standing in deep shadow, and there was nobody to -see. - -And Cecil was duly mounted on her donkey, and escorted to the gate by -Sir Dugald, and rode back to the Palace with Azim Bey at her side, -feeling that she did not dare to look at him lest her eyes should tell -their own happy story. For once she felt thankful for the protection -of the veil, and drew it closely over her flushed face, wondering that -the boy’s glances did not penetrate even this defence. - -At the Residency, meanwhile, Charlie was pouring out his tale to Lady -Haigh, assuring her incoherently that he was at once the happiest and -the least deserving man in the whole world, his cousin alternately -corroborating and contradicting him. When she had heard all he had to -tell, Lady Haigh went away to the office where Sir Dugald was sitting -alone, immersed once more in his daily work after the frivolity of the -evening, and reading a despatch which had just arrived by special -courier. He looked up with puckered brow as his wife came softly in. - -“I am overwhelmed with business, Elma,” he said, as a gentle hint to -her to be brief. - -“I know, dear; I won’t keep you,” she replied, ruthlessly demolishing -the barricade of reports and despatch-boxes with which he had -fortified himself, and settling herself where she could see his face, -“though I’m sure you had better leave it now and get a good night’s -rest. You would be much fresher in the morning. But that wasn’t what I -came to tell you. Cecil and Charlie are engaged.” - -“Pair of fools!” said Sir Dugald, with his eyes on the despatch. - -“Dugald!” cried Lady Haigh, with deep reproach in her tones. “I think -they are made for one another.” - -“I think they are made to create trouble for other people,” said Sir -Dugald. “Now, Elma, I have always regarded you as the most sensible -woman of my acquaintance. Look at the matter in a sensible light, and -don’t talk cant. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t think Miss -Anstruther, with her position and capabilities, a fool for throwing -herself away on a man like the doctor?” - -“He is a dear good fellow,” said Lady Haigh, warmly. - -“No doubt, but that’s all you can say for him. And look at him. He has -just settled down well here, and then he goes and unsettles himself by -this engagement, which is pretty sure to get him into trouble at the -Palace. Of course it need not, but with his genius for getting into -hot water you may be sure it will.” - -“But would you have had them wait three years more?” asked Lady Haigh. - -“Certainly not. It is preposterous that he should think of her at all. -I should have some respect for Miss Anstruther’s judgment if she had -chosen Rossiter. He is a fine fellow, if you like, with some chances -of success, and she could have had him for the trouble of holding up a -finger.” - -“But would you have had her hold up a finger to Captain Rossiter when -she was in love with Charlie?” inquired Lady Haigh. - -“My dear Elma, I don’t think you quite see my point,” said Sir Dugald, -with exceeding mildness. “I consider that it shows a lack of good -sense in Miss Anstruther to have fallen in love, as you phrase it, -with your cousin at all. To see a girl throwing away her chances is a -thing I detest. And now I really must prepare the draft of the answer -to this despatch.” This time Lady Haigh accepted her dismissal, and -retired, a little saddened, but by no means convinced. - -All unconscious of the unpalatable criticism her engagement had -excited, Cecil rose the next morning prepared to take the first -favourable opportunity of breaking the news to her pupil; but she was -somewhat startled when he himself, in the midst of his lessons, paved -the way for the disclosure. - -“Mademoiselle,” he said, suddenly, looking up from the essay he was -writing on the character of Peter the Great, “what makes you so -happy?” - -“Am I any happier than usual, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a start and a -blush. Her pupil studied her face curiously and deliberately. - -“Yes, mademoiselle, I am sure of it. When we were out in the garden an -hour ago, you walked as though you wished to dance, and you were all -the time singing tunes in a whisper, and just now you sat like this, -and looked at the wall and smiled,” and Azim Bey supported his chin -upon one hand, and pursed up his solemn little face into a ludicrous -imitation of Cecil’s far-away gaze and the smile that had accompanied -it. - -“Dear me, Bey, how closely you watch me!” said Cecil, uncomfortably, -feeling that she was not carrying out her determination of the night -before at all in the proper way. “I am afraid you have not been -working very hard. How far have you got with Peter?” - -“I have finished all but his influence upon the Greek Church, -mademoiselle. You looked so happy that I felt I must stop to ask you -about it. But I will finish Peter, and then we can have some more -talk.” - -“Don’t you think I ought to be happy to be back here after being away -for two whole days?” asked Cecil, lightly, trying to turn aside the -subject with a laugh; but Azim Bey bent upon her a severe gaze from -under his black brows, and answered solemnly-- - -“No, mademoiselle; for I watched your face when you went away, and it -was not sad. I am convinced that your happiness has nothing to do with -me. Now I will finish my essay.” - -And having succeeded in making his governess uncomfortable, he applied -himself once more to his writing, feeling, no doubt, a certain -satisfaction in seeing that she was beginning to look worried and -anxious instead of happy. She knew him well in these impracticable -moods, when he would exhibit an impish power of detecting the things -which he was not meant to see, and delighted in sweeping away -conventional disguises, and she feared that he suspected what had -taken place, and meant to make her task of telling him about it as -difficult as he could. He finished his essay in due time, fastened the -pages neatly together, and presented the roll to her with a polite -bow, then tidied and closed his desk, all in grim silence, while Cecil -waited expectantly for what he would say next. For the moment he -seemed to have forgotten the matter, however, for he called to the -servants to spread a carpet for him beside the brazier, and to bring -some cushions for mademoiselle, and also to replenish the glowing -charcoal, for it was a cold day for Baghdad. When his orders had been -carried out, he turned to Cecil, and invited her to come down from her -desk, and to sit by the brazier a little and warm herself. Pupil and -governess generally took a short rest of this kind in the middle of -the morning, and Cecil was wont to regard it as a very pleasant time, -when bits from the latest magazines and papers which had reached her -might be read and discussed, and Azim Bey’s critical faculty guided in -the right direction. - -“Captain Rossiter lent me a new magazine yesterday, which had just -been sent him from home,” she said, willing to delay her important -communication until her pupil was in a more accommodating mood, “and -I think you would like to see it, Bey. I will send Um Yusuf for it, if -you like.” - -“Thank you, mademoiselle, but I think I had rather talk to-day instead -of reading,” replied Azim Bey; and as Cecil took her seat upon the -cushions, he sat down upon his carpet on the other side of the brazier -and looked at her. He had proposed to talk, but the conversation did -not seem to be forthcoming; he only sat still, with his great black -eyes fixed upon his governess. Cecil grew nervous, and perceived that -she had not succeeded in diverting his mind from the former subject -after all. It was foolish to feel perturbed merely on account of this, -however, and she resolved to seize the opportunity and say what she -had intended. - -“You asked me just now why I seemed so happy, Bey, and I will tell -you. I am very happy, though I did not know I was showing it so -plainly. You have read in books about people’s being engaged?” - -“Yes, mademoiselle,” responded her pupil. - -“Well, how would you like it if I told you that I was engaged?” - -“I should be deeply interested, mademoiselle,” he replied, with cold -politeness. Cecil sighed. He was evidently determined not to be -sympathetic. She must try and begin on another tack. - -“You like me to be happy, don’t you, Bey? Supposing that there was a -very good, nice man whom I liked very much, and who--well, who thought -he liked me very much, and that he wanted me to be engaged to him, and -there was no reason why we should not be engaged, what then?” - -“And as to yourself, mademoiselle?” - -“Oh, supposing of course that I was willing,” said Cecil, hastily; “I -said that. It wouldn’t make any difference to you, you know. I should -stay with you for the three years more, exactly as I promised, and -only go when you didn’t want me any longer. Well, Bey, supposing that -all this were to happen, there would be no reason why you should mind, -would there? I don’t see how it would affect you at all.” - -“I should have him killed,” observed Azim Bey, calmly. - -“Have whom killed?” demanded Cecil, somewhat startled. - -“That man, mademoiselle,--that wicked, wretched man! I would give all -I had to get him killed.” - -“Nonsense, Bey! We are not in the ‘Arabian Nights’ now.” - -“No, mademoiselle, but we are in Baghdad.” - -“I shouldn’t have thought you were so silly, Bey. Why should he be -killed? He would have done you no harm.” - -“He would, indeed, mademoiselle. You are my own mademoiselle, and you -shall not be thinking of this--this _imaginary_ person. If he comes, I -will have him killed.” - -“I thought you cared a little for me, Bey, now that we have been two -years together,” said Cecil, with deep reproach. “And yet you talk -like this of having an innocent person whom I loved killed, just -because I loved him and he loved me.” - -“But that is the very reason, mademoiselle. You would marry him and go -away to your England again, and I want you to stay here in Baghdad, -and be always ready when I want to ask you things. When I am married, -I shall say to Safieh Khanum, ‘If you wish to please me, ask Mdlle. -Antaza’s advice about everything, and you are sure to be right.’ So -you see, mademoiselle, I shall always want you, and you must not go -away. Why, I heard Masûd telling you how rude I was to him yesterday, -and how I teased Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa just because you were away.” - -“But I can’t stay with you always,” said Cecil, vexed, and yet -half-laughing at the tone of pride in which he spoke, “so we must hope -you will improve before I leave you. If I never married at all, I -should go home when my five years here were over. When you are -married, Safieh Khanum will know very well how to manage things -without my advice. Don’t you see that it wouldn’t do at all for me to -be interfering in her household affairs? Besides, Bey, think how -selfish you are. You would like me to lose the very thing that is -making me so happy just now, because you would have to do without me.” - -“If any one comes, and wishes to be engaged to you, mademoiselle, I -shall have him killed,” repeated Azim Bey, doggedly. Cecil lost her -temper. - -“Very well, Bey; if you are going to behave so foolishly, and talk so -childishly of what you know nothing about, I am not going to tell you -anything more. You may find things out for yourself, if you like.” - -And Cecil walked away to her own room, and returned with Charlie’s -ring shining on her finger, a perpetual defiance and reminder to Azim -Bey. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - AN IDYLL, AND ITS ENDING. - -After all, the tender care Cecil had shown for her pupil’s feelings, -almost disregarding Charlie’s in comparison with them, was not only -without result, but quite unnecessary. Azim Bey had read in her face -as she said good-night what had happened, and neither silence nor -denials on her part would have had the slightest effect in shaking his -belief in his discovery. Consequently her vain attempts to mollify him -were regarded with contempt as signs of conscious guilt, and the -rupture which concluded them only increased his wrath against Charlie, -over whom he had now been forced to quarrel with mademoiselle. He was -obliged to do his lessons as usual, but at other times he sat apart -and meditated vengeance. - -His mind was full of schemes--indeed the only drawback was their -number and variety. He intended fully to get rid of Charlie, and to -punish Cecil for engaging herself to him; but as soon as he had -settled upon a means of doing this, a new and splendid idea was sure -to come into his head, and he would devote himself to working it out -until it in its turn was supplanted by a better. There was another -difficulty common to all these plans. It seemed absolutely impossible -to carry them out, situated as he was, under Cecil’s charge and -Masûd’s guardianship. Even when he had patched up a hollow peace with -Cecil, cemented by a mutual understanding that the subject of her -engagement was not to be mentioned between them, this difficulty -confronted him still, and it was therefore with a joy born of hope and -confidence that he found M. Karalampi one day in the Pasha’s anteroom. -Here was the man who could do what he wanted, and M. Karalampi was -astonished to find himself seized upon and dragged into a corner, and -adjured in excited whispers to get rid of that wretch, that criminal -of an English doctor who had dared to engage himself to Mdlle. Antaza. - -M. Karalampi’s first feeling, which he was careful to conceal, was one -of helpless bewilderment, but of this Azim Bey had no idea. To him, -the Greek, backed up by all the help he could easily command, was a -_deus ex machinâ_ who could accomplish his purpose in the twinkling -of an eye. M. Karalampi knew better the difficulties of the situation. -Murder was out of the question, and so was kidnapping. Either, or an -attempt at either, would set the Balio Bey and all the English on the -alert, and lead to the discovery of the instigator of the deed, and M. -Karalampi was not at all inclined to compromise his position, either -with the Pasha or with the foreign consuls, for the sake of Azim Bey. -No; whatever was to be done must be done by careful diplomacy and -working underground, and for this time would be necessary. But to say -so to Azim Bey would mean that the boy would fly off at a tangent to -some other person who might be inclined to help him, and this M. -Karalampi could not allow. Almost simultaneously two plans formed -themselves in his brain, one for getting rid of Charlie, the other for -gaining time from Azim Bey, and he put the second into execution at -once. Lowering his voice mysteriously, and entreating pardon for -casting a doubt on the correctness of the Bey Effendi’s information, -he ventured to inquire whether he were absolutely certain that it was -Dr Egerton to whom mademoiselle was engaged? The doctor and she had -not seen one another for a long time before Christmas, whereas Captain -Rossiter was at the Residency all the time. It was known that the -Balio Bey thought very highly of him, and it was whispered that he -himself thought very highly of mademoiselle: indeed M. Karalampi had -heard it said that he was going to marry her. Was Azim Bey sure that -it was not Captain Rossiter to whom she was engaged? Of course M. -Karalampi could not guarantee the authenticity of his own information, -but it would certainly be very annoying to get rid of the wrong man -and find the evil untouched. - -M. Karalampi knew very well the falsity of the suggestion he offered, -but it served his present purpose admirably. Azim Bey was struck dumb. -He beat his brains to try and find out why he had fixed upon Charlie -as the happy man, for he had certainly never been told that he was; -but he could find nothing but that early incursion into the harem, and -the little scene he had witnessed at the Residency on the day of the -riot, to justify his suspicions. Meanwhile, as M. Karalampi pointed -out respectfully, these were only proofs that Dr Egerton was in love -with mademoiselle, which no one had ever doubted, while it was -undeniable that Captain Rossiter had rushed to her rescue with the -utmost eagerness when he heard she was in danger. Azim Bey felt -nonplussed. He could only promise that he would do his best to -discover the truth--he must be able to do so without much -difficulty--and adjure his fellow-conspirator to be in readiness to -act the moment he let him know who was to be assailed. - -They parted, and Azim Bey set himself to his task; but it was more -difficult than he had imagined it would be. Cecil’s lips were sealed, -at any rate to him, on the subject of her engagement. If he attempted -to approach it, she froze instantly, and he could not obtain from her -the slightest clue to the mystery, while all his efforts to pump Um -Yusuf found her as impenetrable as the grave. It so happened that for -a considerable time he met no one who had sufficient interest in or -knowledge of the matter to enlighten him. He felt convinced that he -could have got the truth out of either Charlie or Captain Rossiter by -means of a few questions, but neither of them came in his way, and -though he saw Sir Dugald once or twice, the Balio Bey was not the kind -of person to approach on such a quest. Much time was consumed in these -delays, and winter had passed, and spring was over all the plains, -before the boy’s curiosity could be gratified. - -It was just at the time when the fruit-trees were in bloom, and the -watered gardens around Baghdad miracles of loveliness, that it entered -Lady Haigh’s head to give a picnic. Some miles down the Tigris were -the ruins of an ancient fort, situated on a bold bluff overhanging the -stream, and surrounded by fruit-gardens, in one of which was a flimsy -summer-palace, built of wood, and almost in decay. The spot was noted -for its fruit-trees, which were supposed to flourish on the site of an -ancient battle-field, and Sir Dugald was accustomed to rent the place -every spring and summer as a refuge from the heat and miasma of -Baghdad. There was plenty of shooting to be had on the neighbouring -plains, and good fishing for any one that cared for it, so that a week -or two at the summer-villa was a coveted treat to the staff at the -Consulate. It was not yet time for the great heat which makes the city -almost unbearable, but the fruit-blossom was particularly lovely this -year, and Lady Haigh was fired with the desire to display -Takht-Iskandar in all its beauty. She could not have all her friends -out to stay with her, especially since the habitable part of the house -was now exceedingly limited in extent, but she could at any rate give -them a sight of the place, and therefore she sent out invitations for -a picnic. - -Of course Cecil and Azim Bey were invited. The latter, who was deputed -by his father to represent him on the occasion, accepted the charge -with huge delight, and kept his attendants hard at work for days -beforehand in bringing all his equipments to the highest pitch of -perfection. He felt that he was about to perform a public function, -and his youthful heart beat high with pride. Cecil’s heart beat high -also, but not with pride. She would see Charlie--nay, she would -certainly, if Lady Haigh could compass it, get one of those long talks -with him which were now a distinguishing delight of Sunday evenings at -the Residency. In this hope she put on, under her great white sheet, -the newest and prettiest dress she had, one which had just been sent -out to her from England, and succeeded in mounting her donkey safely -in the unwonted garb. The party from the Residency and most of their -guests went down the river to Takht-Iskandar in a steam-launch, but -the Pasha preferred the land journey for his son, and thus Cecil and -Azim Bey jogged along soberly on donkey-back, followed by a motley -group of servants, and preceded by a running groom. - -The way was very pleasant, lying as it did across the wide plains of -Mesopotamia, now gay with their brief verdure and studded with flowers -of every hue. The start was made as soon as it was light, so that it -was still quite early in the day when the frowning ruins which the -Arabs called Alexander’s Throne came into view. Sir Dugald advanced to -the gate of the garden to welcome his guests, and Lady Haigh met them -at the edge of the great terrace of masonry, with its tanks and -fountains, which supplied a site for the picnic in place of the -non-existent grass-plot. Here tents had been pitched and carpets -spread in the shade of the trees, and everything seemed to promise -ease and rest. Azim Bey gave his arm to his hostess to conduct her to -her seat, an honour which reflected much glory, but some -inconvenience, on Lady Haigh, who was much taller than her youthful -cavalier. Sir Dugald followed with Cecil, her pupil looking round -sharply to make sure that she had not wandered away in more congenial -society. Arrived at the encampment under the trees, the party reclined -on gorgeous rugs and listened to the voices and instruments of a band -of native musicians, refreshing themselves with sherbet the while. -This style of entertainment was quite to the taste of the orientals -among the guests, and the Europeans had learnt by long experience to -tolerate it with apparent resignation, so that the time passed in -great contentment. As for Cecil, she leaned back on her cushions and -enjoyed the colour contrasts afforded by the gay hues of the carpets -relieved against the yellow of the stonework and the dark shade of the -trees, and by the twisting and crossing of the blossomy boughs against -the blue of the sky, and wondered where Charlie could be. - -After some time the calm of the party was broken by the arrival of a -juggler, a most marvellous Hindoo, such a one as Azim Bey had often -read of but had never seen, and the luxurious guests raised themselves -and moved a little closer, so as to be able to see his tricks more -easily. This left Cecil rather on the outskirts of the group, and -before she could rise to go nearer a voice said in her ear-- - -“Come and see the ruins.” - -With one glance at Azim Bey, deeply absorbed in the juggler’s tricks, -under Lady Haigh’s guardianship, Cecil was up in a moment, scarcely -needing the help of Charlie’s hand, and he hurried her round the -nearest tent and into the wood. There were no footpaths, but they -hastened, laughing guiltily, like two children playing truant, along -the banks of earth left between the innumerable little canals by which -each row of trees was irrigated, and finally came out on a grassy -knoll set with pomegranate-trees, which were now gay with scarlet -blossoms. - -“Now we’re safe,” said Charlie. “We can take it easy. Do you see where -you are? There are the ruins just in front.” - -No one, as it happened, had observed Charlie’s sudden appearance and -their flight. Even Lady Haigh, with heroic self-restraint, kept her -eyes fixed on the juggler, lest she should by looking round attract -attention to the pair, and the performance went on. When it was over, -Lady Haigh invited Azim Bey to come and see a small plantation of -English fruit-trees, belonging to several choice varieties, which Sir -Dugald had lately imported. He complied with her request, but in the -one glance around which he took before accompanying her, he had -perceived and realised the fact that his governess had disappeared. -His face showed, however, no trace of his having made this discovery. -He escorted Lady Haigh from place to place, asked intelligent -questions about the foreign trees, promised to recommend his father to -try planting some, and kept his eyes open all the time for some trace -of the truant. His manner was so natural, he seemed so deeply -interested, that Lady Haigh was completely deceived; nay, more, the -very thought of the need there was for watchfulness slipped from her -mind, and when they returned to the rest of the guests, she entered -into conversation with Denarien Bey, who was among them. Azim Bey saw -and seized his opportunity. He removed his hand softly from Lady -Haigh’s arm, and sheltered by her capacious person from the -observation of Sir Dugald and Captain Rossiter, edged his way out just -as Cecil and Charlie had done, until, when fairly hidden by the tent, -he ran off at full speed in the direction of the clue he had -discovered as he returned with his hostess from the plantation. It was -a little strip of flimsy white stuff, which he had noticed clinging to -the rough bark of a gnarled old apple-tree--only that, but he knew it -to be a piece of the muslin veil Cecil was wearing, and it showed that -she must have passed that way. Azim Bey followed the path she and -Charlie had taken through the wood, and came out as they had done on -the knoll where the pomegranate-trees grew; but here he was at a loss, -for those whom he sought were not visible, and Cecil had not been so -considerate as to leave another clue for his guidance. He spent some -time fruitlessly in following paths that led nowhere, and in losing -himself among the trees and the little canals, but at last he came -upon an ascending track leading through a dense thicket of fruit-trees -and shrubs. As he went on he heard the sound of voices, and he crept -cautiously nearer, keeping in the shadow of the bushes, until he was -able to see what filled him with rage and longings for vengeance, and -made him swear the blackest oaths he could think of in any language. - -And yet the picture before him was not an unpleasing one. In the heart -of the thicket was a space clear of bushes, but occupied by the ruins -of one of the ancient towers of the fortress, partly overgrown with -grass. On a mass of fallen masonry sat Cecil in her blue dress, her -veil thrown back. Above her were twisted boughs of apple and apricot, -covered with bloom, and the thin smooth rods of the almond-tree, with -pink and blush-coloured blossoms interspersed with tiny fresh green -leaves. The branches bent and swayed in the light breeze, and swept -her hair softly, and every wind scattered over her a shower of pink -and white petals. But she was not studying the beauties of nature now. -Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, her eyelids drooping, and -beside her was Charlie Egerton, holding both her hands in his, his -eyes passionately devouring her face. They were not talking. It was a -moment of supreme content, such as they had not enjoyed for months, -and they were too happy to speak. The unseen spectator perceived it -all, and gnashed his teeth with rage. - -Poor little Azim Bey! He knelt there, taking in every detail of the -scene before him, and cursing one, at least, of the actors in it very -heartily. If a loaded pistol had been put into his hand Charlie might -have fared ill, but even Azim Bey did not feel impelled to test his -dagger upon him before Cecil’s eyes. Therefore he only remained where -he was, peering through the bushes, and listening eagerly when some -chance sound disturbed the pair and they began to talk. Their talk -filled him with amazement. It was by no means particularly deep, and -it was undeniably disjointed; but the listener carried away with him -ideas of love which differed widely both from those inculcated in his -French novels and those engendered in his precocious little mind by -the sensuous atmosphere of the harem in which he had been brought up. -It gave him his first glimpse of the gulf which remained fixed between -the most thoroughly Europeanised Turk and even an orientalised -Englishman, who, with all his faults and follies, was still the heir -of centuries of knightly training and Christian influence. Naimeh -Khanum would have rejoiced if she could have known the thoughts which -passed through her young brother’s mind in that half hour, for she -would have hoped that the realisation of the underlying difference -would lead him to make efforts to eradicate it altogether. But Azim -Bey differed in many respects from his sister. His nature, like those -of the men of his nation of whom she had spoken, was inclined to be -satisfied with external resemblance to Europeans, and the discovery of -the real unlikeness only made him hate all the more the individual -through whom it was brought home to him. - -“I really must go back to Lady Haigh now,” said Cecil, at last. “Azim -Bey will begin to suspect something.” - -Charlie’s reply was a remark not complimentary to Azim Bey. - -“And I haven’t seen you really since Christmas,” he went on--“not -properly, I mean. You keep me alive on very little crumbs of hope, -Cecil, and when the time comes for fulfilment you just give me some -more crumbs. I did think I should get a good talk with you to-day, but -I haven’t told you anything of all that I wanted to say. Now don’t -tell me I can say it next Sunday, for you know we get scarcely any -time together then.” - -“Poor boy! why don’t you talk faster, and get more into the time?” -laughed Cecil, rising from her seat, and sending a little shower of -petals falling as the flower-laden boughs brushed her head. “I am sure -you have wasted a good deal of time to-day.” - -“Because I wanted to look at you, and not to talk,” said Charlie, and -they both laughed, much to Azim Bey’s disgust. Then Cecil’s veil -caught in something as she rearranged it (it was a most inconvenient -garment that veil, continually catching in things), and Charlie had to -disentangle it--a lengthy process, which made the onlooker more angry -still. Charlie caught Cecil’s hand in his once and kissed it, and Azim -Bey made bitter remarks in his own mind on the foolishness of lovers. - -“We must come,” said Cecil again. “Just think how very embarrassing it -would be if Azim Bey took it into his head to come and look for me.” - -“I don’t care,” said Charlie. “What does he signify?” - -“I don’t think you would be able to get much talk if he was here -listening to every word,” said Cecil. “Now, Charlie, please don’t, -_please_! I have just made myself tidy, and I must get my gloves on.” - -“I’ll put them on for you,” said Charlie, kindly, but the offer was -declined with thanks. The pair passed out of the little cleared spot -in the woods, so close to Azim Bey that Cecil’s dress almost brushed -him as she went by, and when they were out of sight he rose and made a -circuit through the grounds, so as to come upon the picnic-party from -an opposite direction. Lady Haigh had discovered her charge’s absence -by this time, and was in dire dismay about him; but his appearance and -his unruffled demeanour reassured her, for she could not guess that -his heart was so full of rage and fury that he could scarcely bring -himself to speak civilly to any one. It was a triumph of oriental -dissimulation which enabled him to keep cool, and no one ever -suspected that he had done more than search the grounds for Cecil and -had not found her. The rest of the day passed calmly enough, and Azim -Bey kept close to Cecil’s side, and conversed graciously, and behaved -like a civilised and well-brought-up young gentleman, while all the -time he was planning vengeance in his mind. - -The sun began to approach the horizon at last, and the party, hosts -and guests alike, prepared to return to the city. Torches were -lighted, the tents hastily taken down and rolled up with the carpets, -and while these were being taken on board the steam-launch the donkeys -belonging to the Palace party were brought round. Azim Bey was in a -great hurry to start, being anxious to prevent long leave-takings. He -mounted quickly, although this process was usually a lengthy and -dignified one, and waited impatiently for Cecil. So impatient was he -that he started before she was properly mounted, and she would have -fallen had not Charlie caught her in his arms. Boiling over with rage, -Charlie gave her into Lady Haigh’s care, and confronted Azim Bey, who -had returned in some alarm. - -“You did that on purpose, you little rascal!” cried Charlie, seizing -the boy’s rein. Azim Bey’s face became pale with rage. - -“You dare, monsieur? You venture to say that I desired to hurt -mademoiselle? Go, you are a pig, a serpent--I despise you! Go, I say!” -and he lifted his riding-whip, which Charlie immediately grasped. - -“Don’t try that sort of thing on with me, young one,” he cried. “You’d -better not, or I may be tempted to give you a thrashing, which would -do you a lot of good.” - -“How, monsieur, you threaten me?” screamed Azim Bey. “I will remember -it, I will remember it well! You and I will meet, and you also shall -remember this. Go, dog of an Englishman!” with a vigorous tug at the -whip, to which Charlie gave a wrench that broke it between them. Azim -Bey flung the fragments in his face, with a torrent of curses. - -“Egerton!” said Sir Dugald, stepping between them, “what is the -meaning of this?” - -“He has insulted me, monsieur,” cried Azim Bey, trembling with -passion. Sir Dugald cast a scathing glance at Charlie. - -“I am sure Dr Egerton is willing to apologise if he has inadvertently -said anything to offend you, Bey,” he said. “Egerton, you must -certainly see that there is no other course open to you. It is -impossible that you could have intended to insult the Bey.” - -“He shall apologise for it--in blood,” growled Azim Bey, ferociously, -while Charlie stood silent, nettled by Sir Dugald’s authoritative -tone. “He said I meant to hurt mademoiselle. The rest is for him and -me to settle alone.” - -“Oh, Charlie,” said Cecil, coming up with anxious eyes, “you did not -mean that, I’m sure. You must have known that the Bey would never -think of such a thing. You will apologise, won’t you? You really -ought.” - -“As you say I ought, I will,” said Charlie, turning from the whispered -colloquy with a defiant glance at Azim Bey and Sir Dugald. “I regret, -Bey, to have wounded your feelings by a hasty accusation which was not -justified by facts. I can’t say more than that.” - -“If you have done enough mischief, Egerton, perhaps you will rejoin -the rest of the party,” said Sir Dugald, in a low voice. “Allow me to -assist you to mount, Miss Anstruther.” - -Cecil complied in silence, feeling ready to hate Sir Dugald for his -treatment of Charlie, and yet conscious that he had much to try him. -Diplomatic complications had arisen out of incidents no more important -than this one, and it was hard for her Majesty’s Consul-General to -find his best-laid plans endangered by the imprudence of a hot-headed -fool in love. And therefore he did his best to pacify Azim Bey, and -succeeded so well that the boy talked quite graciously to Cecil as -they rode back to the city over the short grass, lighted by the -flaring torches of their escort. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - GATHERING CLOUDS. - -Azim Bey was now all eagerness to communicate to his trusted ally M. -Karalampi the discovery he had made, which proved that he had been -right all along in fixing upon Charlie as the person whose removal was -necessary. But, as it happened, he did not succeed in meeting him -until some days after the picnic, and by this time the boy’s anxiety -to get rid of Dr Egerton had risen almost to fever-heat. M. Karalampi -was able to pacify him by assuring him that now that the most -important point was settled, Charlie should quit Baghdad within a -month--a promise which seemed impossible of fulfilment to Azim Bey, -who did not know that his agent had been secretly at work ever since -his services had been first engaged. He worked with extreme art and -delicacy, conveying to those he wished to influence slight intimations -which seemed nothing when taken alone, but which became dangerous -indeed when looked at in unison. At first he laboured chiefly to -influence the Pasha. Ahmed Khémi had hitherto known very little -respecting the doctor of the British Consulate, but for the space of -about a month M. Karalampi dinned his name into his patron’s ears in -season and out of season. Dr Egerton was a most dangerous man. He was -accustomed to disguise himself and go among the people, deceiving even -true believers. He was a spy, it was difficult to determine in whose -pay, but indubitably a spy. He intrigued with the Armenians, the Jews, -the Persians, the missionaries, the Russians, the Greeks. The Balio -Bey did not like him, but was forced to tolerate him, knowing, no -doubt, that he was employed by persons very high in authority. And so -on, and so on, until the harassed Pasha, bewildered by the number and -inconsistency of the charges, peremptorily ordered his too zealous -agent never to mention the name of that English doctor to him again, -on pain of his serious displeasure. - -This was just what M. Karalampi had intended, and it closed the first -act of the drama. He had gone upon the principle of throwing plenty of -mud, and he was quite satisfied as to its powers of sticking, even -though he himself had bowed respectfully and promised to obey his -Excellency, averring that it was only zeal for the good of the -Government that had made him so troublesome. His own work was over for -the present, and it was the turn of his confederates. Each of them had -only one thing to do, but they were all to be counted upon to do it. -At some time or other, in the Pasha’s hearing, they were to throw a -doubt on Dr Egerton’s honesty, hint at double-dealing on his part, or -remark that he had been seen in company with suspected persons. To the -last accusation Charlie’s inveterate habit of picking up disreputable -acquaintances lent a good deal of colour, and this helped to establish -the rest. The Pasha was staggered at last. He had silenced Karalampi, -but here were all these independent witnesses giving him the very same -warning. There must be something in it, and it would be foolish to -disregard the testimony of so many unbiassed persons. It might be that -Providence was giving him notice of some plot laid against him, while -he had been obstinately rejecting the warning. He made up his mind to -look into things very carefully in future. - -M. Karalampi perceived this, and chuckled as he made ready for the -third act of the play. Although his lips were sealed at the Palace, he -had not been silent in the city. Not that he ever spoke against the -English doctor, nor could any rumours be traced to him,--the only -thing certain was that Charlie Egerton had become desperately -unpopular. The shopkeepers with whom he had been wont to exchange a -passing word withdrew into the inmost recesses of their dwellings so -as not to be obliged to speak to him; children fled from before him, -or were snatched up by their mothers, in dreadful fear of the -evil-eye. There was one small boy who had once been brought by a still -smaller Armenian friend to the Residency, to be treated for a cut -finger or some other childish trouble, and who had been much impressed -by the well-filled shelves in the surgery. Hitherto it had always been -his delight to meet his doctor in the street and salute him with the -cry of “O father of bottles, peace be upon thee!” but now he crept -guiltily into a corner and hid himself if he saw him coming. This was -the hardest thing of all for Charlie to bear, even though the loungers -at the coffee-houses, with whom he had been something of a favourite, -crowded together and looked at him distrustfully as he passed, -muttering “Spy!” in ominous voices. The old women in the bazaars, -privileged by age and ugliness to have a voice in public, reviled him -roundly when they saw him, and then told each other in whispers that -he was paid by foreign enemies to bring in new diseases and spread -them in the city. - -This change in public opinion perplexed Charlie extremely. At first he -attributed it to another outburst of anti-English feeling, but this -theory was dispelled on his learning from Captain Rossiter that no -unpleasantness was displayed towards him. Then he set it down to some -temporary crank or fancy of the people’s, and thought little more -about it until, when he went one evening to call on Isaac Azevedo, the -old man told him plainly, though with many apologies, that his visits -were a source of danger to the whole Jewish quarter, and asked him not -to come again for the present. It was this which first opened his eyes -to the possibility of the approach of something more than mere -unpleasantness, but it was not really brought home to him until one -day when he had been to tea at the Mission-house, and Dr Yehudi took -him aside at parting, and asked him earnestly whether he still carried -a revolver, and whether it was ready for use. The danger of the -situation became clear to him then, and it was just about the same -time that M. Karalampi decided that matters were ripe for the -completion of his plan. - -Of the steps which led to this end Cecil saw only the last, and she -was made aware of it one Sunday, when she arrived at the Residency to -find Charlie looking out for her, with a doleful and even -shame-stricken visage. She cast uneasy glances at him every now and -then during the morning, but the gloom did not lift, and she waited -anxiously for the quiet afternoon-time when they were wont to exchange -their confidences. As soon as they were together in a shady corner of -the deserted drawing-room Charlie told his story. - -“I’ve been an awful fool, Cecil, and got myself into a nice mess.” - -“Charlie! What do you mean?” - -“It’s perfectly true. You know that I was to dine at the Farajians’ on -Friday night? They are awfully nice people, and Farajian’s brother -Ephrem was to be there,--the man who has been travelling in the -mountains and looking for ruined cities. He was educated by some -American missionaries somewhere, and he has picked up an amazing -knowledge of antiquities. Well, I went, and found that all the guests -were Armenians except myself and Stavro Vogorides, that Greek fellow -who hangs about at the Russian Consulate.” - -“I know. I have seen him with M. Karalampi,” said Cecil. - -“We talked very pleasantly all dinner-time,” Charlie went on, “but at -the end some one--I think it was Vogorides, but I can’t be -sure--started the subject of Armenia. We were all friends, of course, -but it struck me even then as rather a risky thing to do among such -excitable people. You know that there’s no holding Armenians if you -once get them on that subject, and one after another told stories of -the most awful atrocities I ever heard. They made my blood run cold. I -can’t conceive how people who believe that such things have happened, -and many of them to relations of their own, can ever speak civilly to -a Turk again, or bear to be anywhere near him, except rifle in hand, -and I said something of the kind. It seemed to set them off, for they -all stood up and drank the toast of ‘Free Armenia!’ solemnly.” - -“And you drank it too? Oh, Charlie!” said Cecil, anxiously. - -“That wasn’t all,” said Charlie, determined to free his conscience -completely, “for I said afterwards that I was sure if they ever did -rise, English people would help them with arms and men and money, just -as we did the Greeks in the War of Independence.” - -“Oh, Charlie!” groaned Cecil again, “how could you?” - -“I don’t know. I was carried out of myself, I suppose. Well, in some -way or other, I can’t imagine how, the thing has got to Sir Dugald’s -ears. He sent for me last night, and gave me such a wigging! Of course -I was a fool to say what I did, but he makes out that if the thing got -known I should have to leave Baghdad at once. He said it was an -unpardonable breach of diplomatic etiquette, an indiscretion he should -have considered impossible. He said I ought to consider you, too, and -not go imperilling my life and my prospects in the way I did. He also -said a good deal more--in fact, I got it pretty hot.” - -“But what did he mean about imperilling your life?” asked Cecil, -quickly. - -“Oh, I didn’t mean to say that, but perhaps after all you had better -hear it from me; you won’t be so much frightened. It may not have -anything to do with it at all, but yesterday, when I was out riding -with Rossiter on the other side of the river, a fellow potted at me -with a long gun. It may have been only that he wanted something to -shoot at, but the people round here do seem to have rather a prejudice -against me just now. Anyhow, he missed, and we gave chase, but he got -away.” - -“But who can have told Sir Dugald about the Farajians’ dinner-party?” -asked Cecil. “The servants?” - -“There were none in the room at the time. No, he absolutely declined -to tell me--said it was enough for me that he knew. I don’t know who -it could be.” - -“It may have been M. Vogorides,” mused Cecil. “Charlie, have you ever -made an enemy of him or of M. Karalampi?” - -“Would you have me make a friend of either of them?” he inquired. - -“Well, there is a kind of distant civility you might employ towards -them.” - -“Not towards them, that is just it, any more than towards a snake, -except with something between--bars or glass or something of that -sort. I cannot stand these Levantines. There is something picturesque -and romantic about a Jew, even if he does try to cheat you; and as for -the Arabs and Turks, it makes you quite sorry to know the trouble they -take to get the better of you, when you see through them all the time. -But those Greeks, ugh!” - -“That sounds as though you objected to them because they were clever -enough to be able to cheat you,” said Cecil. “But if this is the way -you regard them, no doubt you have hurt M. Vogorides’ feelings at some -time or other, and he has tried to revenge himself on you by telling -Sir Dugald. But do take care of yourself, Charlie. What should I do if -anything happened to you?” - -“I think you would do much better without me,” broke out Charlie. “I -see that I ought never to have asked you to marry me, Cecil, such a -heedless fool as I am, and I also see that I ought to give you up now, -instead of worrying you with my misfortunes. I really mean it.” - -“Happily, the decision doesn’t lie with you,” said Cecil. “Why, what a -fair-weather friend you must think me, Charlie! Have I deserved it? -Have I ever seemed worried by your misfortunes? I should have thought -I had felt them too much for such a word to be applicable.” - -“You are an angel,” said Charlie, and kissed her. - -“I have only this to say,” went on Cecil, freeing herself. “You may -give me up if you like, but I decline entirely to give you up. If you -wish me to go through life in the ridiculous position of a girl -engaged to a man who doesn’t consider himself engaged to her, I must -bear it, I suppose.” - -“You know I don’t,” said Charlie, and the conversation after this -point became somewhat personal and lacking in coherence, until Charlie -tore himself away to go and visit his patients. But Cecil was still -anxious and uneasy, and at afternoon tea, finding that Charlie was -still absent, she moved boldly across to Sir Dugald, determined to -learn the worst. - -“To what am I indebted for this unwonted honour?” was the question -asked by Sir Dugald’s eyebrows as he rose and gave her his chair, but -in words he only inquired whether she found the spot shady enough. - -“I wanted to speak to you about Dr Egerton,” she said, breathlessly, -too anxious about Charlie to answer his question politely. Sir -Dugald’s eyebrows went up. - -“Would it be rude to say that I have already heard rather too much -about Dr Egerton lately?” he asked. - -“That was just the reason why I wanted to talk to you about him,” said -Cecil. “Were you in earnest in what you said to him last night?” - -“I am not in the habit of playing practical jokes on the officials of -this Consulate,” said Sir Dugald, rather stiffly. “If you mean to -inquire whether Egerton has really endangered his prospects, I can -only say that I fully believe he has.” - -“But it seems such a little thing,” urged Cecil, “merely akin to -talking politics in society at home.” - -“Certainly,” said Sir Dugald, “in one way. It is as if a member of the -Government, at some very important crisis, should take the opportunity -of declaring, at a dinner-party of opponents, that he differed from -his party as to the policy to be pursued, and meant to thwart it in -every way he could.” - -“But Charlie never meant that,” said Cecil, aghast. - -“Probably not,” said Sir Dugald, grimly. “It was a momentary -indiscretion, but such indiscretions are unpardonable. Support your -agents through thick and thin, to the brink of war if necessary, so -long as they obey orders and act with common-sense; but you must get -rid of them and disavow their actions the moment you find they are -swayed by enthusiasm, or fanaticism, or too much zeal, or anything of -the kind.” - -“But surely you must expect them to be either angels or machines,” -said Cecil. “Have you no enthusiasms, Sir Dugald?” - -“I have preferences, unfortunately, but I do my best to nullify them. -When I find myself sympathising with one party, I make it a point to -do the other rather more than justice.” - -“But that is unfair to the first party,” objected Cecil. “Why should -they suffer because they have your sympathy?” - -“I don’t know--to show them I am not an angel, I suppose,” said Sir -Dugald. - -“But still,” said Cecil, returning to the charge, “I can’t quite see -why it should be so very wrong and dangerous for Dr Egerton to have -said what he did.” - -“Simply for this reason, that what he said was calculated to foster in -the minds of the Armenians the mischievous delusion that they will be -supported, unofficially at any rate, by England if they rebel. News of -such a kind spreads like wildfire, and is likely to make the task of -Turkish government more difficult. Now we are here to bolster up -Turkey, as these people put ropes round an old house to keep it -together in a storm, and Egerton tries to spoil our work.” - -“But is it right to bolster up Turkey?” asked Cecil, doubtfully. - -“Oh, if we are coming to questions of morals, I shall have to take a -back seat,” said Sir Dugald. “I will only say this, I conscientiously -believe that if Turkey fell to-morrow, a far worse tyranny would -ensue. You would not remember the Polish horrors, but we heard plenty -about them when I was young.” - -“And Dr Yehudi has told me of the persecutions of the Jews,” murmured -Cecil. - -“Exactly. So you see what we are doing. We are keeping up a bad state -of things for fear of a worse. The Turks are sensible enough not to -kick, but we can’t expect them to like our helping them, and they -don’t feel inclined to give us any assistance. They won’t make the -slightest attempt to whitewash themselves in order to spare our -feelings, or make our proceedings look better to the world. We do what -we can to put down atrocities, but changes of policy at home and -changes of ambassador at Constantinople have succeeded in frittering -away most of our moral influence, and we can’t descend to brute force. -It’s inexpedient, and it’s ungentlemanly. We are the stronger party, -and we can’t hit a State weaker than ourselves. Now do you see where -the doctor went wrong? He let his feelings carry him away, and said -just what came into his head, regardless of all this. His tongue has -got him into trouble before, you know.” - -“Yes, I know,” said Cecil, with a sigh. “Isn’t it wonderful that he -can manage to keep safe when he disguises himself as a native?” - -“I am afraid that it shows he has the power of silence, but does not -care to exercise it except on great occasions,” said Sir Dugald, with -a peculiar smile. - -“But what do you think he had better do now?” asked Cecil. - -“Lie low for a little, I should say. I am thinking of sending him and -D’Silva out to Takht-Iskandar for a week or two’s shooting. Now that -the _Nausicaa_ is here, her surgeon can look after the hospital. But -I give you fair warning, Miss Anstruther, that if there is any more -foolishness on the doctor’s part he will have to pack. If you can -impress that on him I shall be thankful.” - -And Sir Dugald gave up his place to Charlie, who was approaching, and -went away muttering, “She thinks he can keep quiet when he is -disguised, so that the natives don’t find him out, does she? I believe -they take him for a madman, and so let him go unmolested.” But in this -he was unjust to Charlie, who, as he himself had once said, seemed to -put on a different nature with his oriental garb. - -Cecil returned to the Palace that night feeling nervous and depressed. -It was as though a foreboding of coming trouble was hanging over her, -and she tried in vain to reason herself into the belief that the -depression was purely physical, and due to the fact that the weather -was hot and thundery. The next day the storm came. It was unusually -early in the season for thunder, but the Baghdadis said they had -seldom known a more tremendous storm. It began about mid-day, when -Cecil and her pupil were taking their usual rest, and Azim Bey was -declaring his views on the subject of a book he had been reading. It -was nearly time for dinner, but the sky became suddenly dark, and the -trembling servants, leaving their work, crept into the lower part of -the schoolroom and sat huddled together. Azim Bey was constitutionally -timid on some occasions, and he exhibited now such fear as almost -paralysed him. He crouched in a corner, shuddering at every fresh -flash of lightning, and trembling violently when the thunder crashed, -his face ashy white with terror. The wind howled and shrieked around -the house, tearing off projecting portions of the ornamentation, and -making such a noise that no one could be heard speaking. Cecil caught -a glimpse once, by the glare of the lightning, of her pupil’s face, -and its expression surprised her. Fear was portrayed there, as she -expected, but also a tremendous determination. Azim Bey’s lips were -locked together as though he were defying all the powers of the storm -to force him to disclose something he was resolved to keep secret. - -The thunder and lightning diminished in intensity at last, the wind -ceased to howl, and daylight returned in some measure, but the rain -continued to pour down, and the roof was discovered to be letting in -water in streams. Azim Bey, whose courage had now returned, roused the -servants from their lethargy of terror and set them to work to repair -the leaks, finding himself in his element as he sat upon the divan and -directed operations. When the roof was made fairly water-tight again, -he despatched the women to bring in the long-delayed dinner, and when -the meal was over, requested Cecil politely to bring her -photograph-album and tell him about her brothers. Cecil complied, -wondering to find him so agreeably disposed. Ordinarily, after such a -display of timidity as that of the morning, he was wont to swagger and -bluster a good deal in order to remove the impression. But this -evening his behaviour was perfect. He was deeply interested, as usual, -in the young Anstruthers, and particularly in Fitz’s adventures with -his latest possession, the camera Cecil had given him, by means of -which he had succeeded in sending out to his sister painful and most -unflattering portraits of the rest of the family. In after-days Cecil -looked back to this evening to try whether she could discover in her -pupil’s manner any signs of compunction for the work he had in hand, -but she could remember none. He was cheerfully polite, with the kind -of politeness a magnanimous conqueror might show to a prisoner in his -power. No youthful Black Prince could have been more courteous than he -was. - -The next morning, however, things were changed. Azim Bey was summoned -by a message from his father to attend a grand State ceremony, the -investment of Ahmed Khémi Pasha with the insignia of a very exalted -order sent direct from Constantinople by the hands of a special -functionary. The welcome to be accorded to the envoy of the Padishah, -and the formalities of the investiture, would occupy the whole day, -and Azim Bey resented strongly the command he received to be present. -He grumbled for some time because Cecil could not come with him, and -went off at last in a very bad temper, leaving her pleasantly occupied -in writing her letters home. - -It was Um Yusuf who first scented something wrong. Cecil could never -discover whether her silent attendant had suspected that mischief was -brewing, and had laid her plans accordingly, or not; but it is certain -that she could not be found when Azim Bey desired to speak to her, and -give her a few directions for her mistress’s comfort before he went -out, and that she reappeared some time after his departure, with the -excuse that she had met her cousin in the bazaar and had been having -a talk with her. This she explained volubly in the presence of Basmeh -Kalfa and old Ayesha, and then curled herself up on the carpet for her -mid-day nap; but as soon as the other two had dropped off to sleep, -she rose, and approaching Cecil with her finger on her lips, laid a -note on the table before her. The handwriting was Lady Haigh’s, and -Cecil tore the envelope open in alarm. The letter was short:-- - - - “My dearest Cecil,--Come to me _immediately_. Let _nothing_ prevent - you, if you wish to escape _eternal regret_. Put on your riding-habit - under your sheet, and bring _no one_ but Um Yusuf.” - - -“You go, mademoiselle?” asked Um Yusuf in a whisper, as she met -Cecil’s terrified eyes. Cecil nodded, and rose from her table. They -passed on tiptoe between the sleeping women (Um Yusuf had adroitly -placed herself in such a position that they could not block the door) -and gained their own rooms. Um Yusuf knew only that the note had been -placed in her hand by a cavass from the Consulate, with a warning to -deliver it secretly and at once, together with an intimation that the -man would wait at a certain spot outside the Palace to escort Mdlle. -Antaza to the Residency, if she decided to come. More she could not -tell, and Cecil hurried into her riding-habit and arranged the sheet -over it. They left the courtyard without remark, for Masûd was in -attendance on Azim Bey, and at the great gate the guards knew them and -let them pass. They met the cavass at the appointed place, and -hastened through the streets to the Residency under his guardianship. -At the gate they were met by Mr D’Silva, one of the clerks, who took -them to Lady Haigh at once. - -“O, Lady Haigh, what is it?” gasped Cecil. - -“It is a great trouble, dear,” said Lady Haigh, taking her in her -arms. - -“Is it Charlie?” - -“Yes, dear; it is Charlie.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - “BETWIXT MY LOVE AND ME.” - -“Is he--is he----” faltered Cecil. - -“Not _dead_, my dear? oh no! how could you imagine that?” cried Lady -Haigh, in great excitement; “nor hurt, nor even in danger, I hope, at -present. But the horses are ready. Let us start at once, and I will -tell you about it as we go along. Mr D’Silva is coming with us.” - -They left the Residency and rode in single file through the narrow -streets of the city; but once outside the gate, Mr D’Silva withdrew to -a respectful distance with the cavasses, and Lady Haigh and Cecil were -left side by side. - -“Now, Lady Haigh, please tell me,” cried Cecil, whose brain had been -busy conjuring up horrors the whole time. - -“You must be brave, my dear child, and thankful--thankful that you are -able to see Charlie once more, when it was just a chance that they -didn’t succeed in keeping you from him.” - -“Lady Haigh!” Cecil almost screamed, “they haven’t put him in prison?” - -“No, my dear, no. Your imagination certainly dwells on horrors. Wait a -little, and I will tell you it all. You know that for some time -Charlie has been very unpopular in the city, and that the _budmashes_, -as we should call them in India, have been shouting bad names after -him in the streets? Well, it has been a great mystery why this should -be, for he got on so very well with the Baghdadis in his first two -years here, but now it seems that they have come to regard him in some -way as a spy. Of course there has been mischief at work, somebody has -been slandering him, but that doesn’t make it any better. Naturally I -knew all this, but nothing more, and what has happened to-day has been -a tremendous shock. Very early this morning Sir Dugald received a -letter from the Pasha, brought by Ovannes Effendi. I don’t know what -was in it, but Denarien Bey called just about the same time, and they -were all three closeted together. Then Denarien Bey and the other man -went away, and Sir Dugald sent for Charlie. I had no idea that there -was anything wrong, or even out of the common, and you may conceive my -astonishment when Charlie came rushing to me in a fearful state and -told me that Sir Dugald had ordered him to proceed at once to Bandr -Abbas, right away down the Gulf, and remain there until further -orders. They have an outbreak of cholera there, and their doctor is -overworked and has telegraphed for help. Of course Charlie didn’t mind -the cholera, but he was to start to-day, by the steamer leaving this -very morning.” - -“Oh, Lady Haigh, he isn’t _gone_?” cried Cecil. - -“You may well be astonished, dear. I assure you I laughed at the -notion of such a thing. ‘My dear boy,’ I said to Charlie, ‘you have -made some mistake. Wait here, and I will go and speak to Sir Dugald.’ -And I went, Cecil, and it was true. Sir Dugald was very busy, getting -ready to go to this wretched investiture, and I couldn’t make him tell -me all I wanted to know, or else my brain was in such a whirl that it -didn’t penetrate properly. All that I could make out was that the -Pasha had sent to say that Charlie was a spy, and that he couldn’t -have him in the city any longer--which, of course, is utter -nonsense--and that he had better leave as soon as possible, for that -the _budmashes_ were crying out for his blood. That was true enough, -my dear; there was a mob of them in front of the gate howling out the -most dreadful things. I never felt so thunderstruck and so much at a -loss in my life. It was as if the world’s foundations were shaking, or -we were in a transformation scene at a pantomime. There has been -absolutely nothing to account for all these extraordinary events, but -yet they have happened, and Charlie must go. I begged and entreated -Sir Dugald to let him wait for the next steamer, but he asked me -whether I wanted to have his blood upon my head, and said he should -see him safely on board before he started for this thing. Well, my -dear, I saw that there was no doing anything with Sir Dugald, so I -went back to poor Charlie. He was nearly wild, and I can tell you I -was not much better, what with getting all his things packed in such -a hurry, and everything. He wanted to force his way into the Palace -and insist on seeing you, but it would have been throwing his life -away to venture into the town, and Sir Dugald absolutely forbade it, -and told him he would have him put under arrest if he tried it. Then -the poor fellow and I managed to devise a plan. I wasn’t going to let -him be driven away without saying good-bye to you.” - -“Oh, thank you, Lady Haigh,” murmured Cecil, her eyes wet. - -“So I made up my mind what to do,” continued Lady Haigh; “I just took -the law into my hands, for I knew it was no use speaking to Sir -Dugald, and if he is angry I don’t mind.” - -“But he couldn’t help all this,” Cecil’s sense of justice impelled her -to say. “What could he have done?” - -“My dear,” responded Lady Haigh, in the true Jingo spirit, “he could -have torn up the Pasha’s letter and sent him back the pieces. He could -have said to those two poor wretched Armenians, ‘Go and tell your -master, if he wants to get rid of Dr Egerton, to come and turn him -out.’ And he could have called out the guard and armed the servants, -and defended the Residency as long as there were two stones left on -one another, and he ought to have done it, rather than get rid of -Charlie at the beck of an upstart like Ahmed Khémi.” - -And Lady Haigh paused for breath after this tremendous burst of -eloquence. - -“But the plan?” asked Cecil. “Where are we going now?” - -“I was just telling you, dear. As I said, I took the law into my own -hands. I saw the captain of the steamer, and I put the whole affair -before him. Sometimes, you know, honesty is really the best policy. I -said to him, ‘Captain Wheen, you are a sailor’--that flattered him, -because of course his voyages are all confined to the river--‘and I -want your help in a very delicate matter. You may have heard that my -cousin, Dr Egerton, is ordered down to Bandr Abbas to help with the -cholera there. Now he is engaged to the young lady they call Mdlle. -Antaza, at the Palace, the Pasha’s English governess, and it will -break her heart if he goes without saying good-bye to her.’ I could -see that Captain Wheen was very much touched; but he pretended he -wasn’t, and said very gruffly, ‘I can’t delay the sailing of the -_Seleucia_ for any Pasha or Resident’s lady on earth.’ I said, -‘Captain Wheen, I am sure you know that I would not on any account -have you break your rules, or get into trouble with your owners. What -I want to say is this. Dr Egerton was to start to-morrow for a little -shooting at Takht-Iskandar, and his things were all sent there early -to-day before we heard of this. Now I ask you, would it be possible -for you to stop off Takht-Iskandar and allow him and his servant to go -on shore for an hour or two, to pack up the things and bring them on -board? That would give me time to send a note to the Palace, and come -out to Takht-Iskandar.’ ‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘You see, if we -took to letting passengers go on shore where they liked to fetch more -luggage, it would sink the ship at last, besides doubling the length -of the voyage; but I can tell you this, ma’am, in confidence--the -engines of the _Seleucia_ are wonderfully cranky. Now if anything was -to go wrong with those engines, and we had to lie-to for an hour or so -to set it right, I shouldn’t wonder if it was to happen just off -Takht-Iskandar, and then of course the doctor might go on shore and -fetch his togs. Now there’s just that chance, ma’am, and it would -never surprise me if it was to happen. Engines are queer things,’ and -I believe he winked at me. That was all that I could get out of him; -but it did what I wanted, so I settled matters with Charlie. He was to -make as long a business of his packing as he possibly could, and I was -to bring you out to say good-bye to him. I didn’t know how to reach -you, for I was afraid they wouldn’t admit me at the Palace; but I -thought a note might get in. So I sent it off; but I don’t think it -would ever have got to you if Um Yusuf hadn’t met her cousin in the -bazaar and loitered talking to her.” - -“But why do you think there would have been any difficulty?” asked -Cecil. - -“My dear, is it possible you don’t see that this is all a plot? There -is some deep purpose behind these extraordinary events, and the only -purpose I can conceive is that of separating you and Charlie. You tell -me that Azim Bey dislikes him, and I can quite believe that he is -capable of very strong childish jealousy. Mind, I don’t think he -managed all the details. There is some older and wilier person -behind--possibly the Um-ul-Pasha or Jamileh Khanum. At any rate, Azim -Bey had taken his precautions very carefully, and if he had not been -summoned away the note would never have got to you, and Charlie would -have gone without your even saying good-bye to him. So, my dear, be -thankful.” - -“Oh, Lady Haigh!” remonstrated Cecil. She could say no more: the blow -was too sudden, too dreadful. She rode along in silence, while Lady -Haigh poured forth stores of comfortless comfort, and adjured her to -be cheerful when she met Charlie. Cheerful! the very word was a -mockery. The gloomy unsettled skies and muddy plain seemed to accord -better with her mood than did Lady Haigh’s philosophy. They were -approaching Takht-Iskandar now, and everything looked sad and sodden. -All the glory of the white and pink and purple fruit-blossom was gone, -and little green fruits alone represented the promise of a month ago. -The palace, always flimsy and dilapidated-looking, was sorely battered -and damaged by the storm of yesterday, and the trees were beaten down -and in many cases stripped of their leaves. The riders approached -softly along the sandy road, and paused at the corner of the house, -where Mr D’Silva left his horse and went on to reconnoitre. Presently -he came back, and, helping the two ladies to dismount, led them in at -a side-door which was unfastened, and on through various passages and -unfurnished rooms until they reached the dining-room, where Charlie, -with his Armenian boy Hanna, was engaged in separating his shooting -requisites from those of Mr D’Silva--their possessions having been -sent on together. - -“Well, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, marching into the room, “doing your -guns on this table, are you? Take them away into the smoking-room this -instant, Hanna, and finish them there. How long have you been here, -Charlie?” - -“Hours, Cousin Elma,” groaned Charlie, with Cecil’s hands locked in -his. - -“Then you had better go back to the _Seleucia_ at once,” said Lady -Haigh, promptly. - -“One hour, ten minutes, milady,” put in Hanna, as he carried off the -guns. - -“Then you can have half an hour, Charlie--not a moment more, and even -that is trading on Captain Wheen’s kindness in a most shameful way. Mr -D’Silva, if you will be so kind as to see that no one interrupts us -for half an hour, we shall be eternally grateful to you. We can trust -you for that, I think?” - -“I am an Englishman, Lady Haigh,” replied Mr D’Silva, more in sorrow -than in anger, as he withdrew, quite unconscious that he was saying -the very thing which, as Lady Haigh remarked afterwards, when she -remembered to be cynical, an Englishman would not have said. - -“Now, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, when he was gone, “make the most of -your time. Never mind me,” and she sat down on the divan and composed -herself as if for a nap, while Charlie and Cecil wandered to the other -end of the room and enjoyed the luxury of being thoroughly miserable. -For some time Cecil could do nothing but cry, with her head on -Charlie’s shoulder, while he tried to comfort her, but found the -situation so devoid of comfort that he failed miserably. - -“Ten minutes more,” came in a sepulchral voice from the corner where -Lady Haigh sat, engrossed now with a tattered copy of the Army and -Navy Stores list. Cecil roused herself with a sob. - -“Oh, Charlie,” she said, “what shall I do without you?” - -“Look here, my darling,” said Charlie, energetically, struck with a -sudden idea; “just listen to me one moment. I can’t bear to leave you -here among all these wretches. Will you--could you--marry me at once? -If you would, I----” - -“Charlie!” was interjected sharply by Lady Haigh. - -“I would come back to the Residency, and we could get Dr Yehudi to -marry us. Then you would come with me, and we should not be parted -after all.” - -“I think, young man, you are forgetting that you would have to reckon -with Sir Dugald,” said Lady Haigh, grimly. “I am astonished at your -innocence. After knocking about the world for so long, can you really -imagine that it is as easy to get married as to order your breakfast -at a hotel?” - -“Besides, I wouldn’t have you venture back into Baghdad for anything,” -said Cecil. - -“Then I will wait at Basra for three weeks, or as long as the -regulations require,” said Charlie, eagerly, “and Cousin Elma will -bring you down there. O, Cecil, my darling, do say yes.” - -“Oh, Charlie!” sighed Cecil, but in a moment her face changed and grew -firm; “I can’t do it--it would be wrong. Why, Charlie, you forget that -I am pledged to stay here for more than two years and a half still. I -can’t leave my post. My duty is here, and yours, I suppose, is at -Bandr Abbas. When Azim Bey’s education is finished, then I shall be at -liberty to leave Baghdad, and then----” - -“Can’t you come now, dear?” he pleaded. “I don’t want to persuade you -if it is really your duty to stay, but I think that Azim Bey’s conduct -has not been so considerate that you need strain matters on his -account. Think of our going home together, Cecil, and seeing all your -people again.” - -“Don’t,” murmured Cecil, brokenly; “you make me so miserable, Charlie. -You can’t think how I want to see Whitcliffe again, and all of them. -But I mustn’t go. It isn’t right. I can’t break my promise. You know -you wouldn’t respect me yourself if I did such a thing. So I must -stay, and you must go. Besides, there is another reason. If you -resigned now, and stayed at Basra, and went home afterwards, instead -of going to Bandr Abbas, they would say you were afraid of the -cholera, and I couldn’t bear that any one should think that of you. -No, I have some consideration for you, Charlie dear, though I have got -you into such trouble. I was thinking as we came along that it might -have been better for you if you had never met me at all.” - -“Not a bit of it!” cried Charlie. “Never think that again, Cecil. Why, -before I met you I was a regular loafer, just doing a spell of work in -one place and then getting myself sent on somewhere else, and never -settling down. But now I have something to work for, something to look -forward to. I should have missed the chief good of my life if I had -never met you. No, dear, knowing you has done everything for me, and I -am as thankful as I can be for it now, and I always shall be. As for -this trouble, no doubt it comes because otherwise I should be too -happy.” - -“Your time is nearly up, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh. “Don’t you want to -give Charlie any cautions about taking care of himself at Bandr -Abbas?” - -“No, I don’t think so,” said Cecil. “I know he will do his duty -wherever he is, and I also know that he will remember me and not let -himself be careless about taking proper precautions, and that sort of -thing.” - -“And every evening,” said Charlie, “I shall go up to the wind-tower -and look in the direction of Baghdad, and imagine that you are -standing on the roof of the Palace and looking towards Bandr Abbas.” - -“When she will probably be having her tea with Azim Bey quietly in the -cellar,” said Lady Haigh. “Don’t be sentimental, Charlie. I detest -sentiment.” - -“When you leave Bandr Abbas, do you think it possible that you will be -allowed to come back here?” asked Cecil. - -“I’m afraid not,” said Charlie. “It’s not likely, is it, Cousin Elma? -No; I may be sent somewhere else in the Gulf, or to Aden, if Sir -Dugald is kind enough to give me a good character, but this business -with the Pasha will probably prevent my ever coming back to Baghdad.” - -“But the mystery may be cleared up, and everything put right,” -suggested Cecil, hopefully. “You would come back if you were asked, -Charlie?” - -“Rather! I would come back as bottle-washer to a Bengali _babu_, like -the doctor they have at Muscat,” said Charlie, “but I’m afraid the -Persian shore of the Gulf will be my nearest point.” - -“But, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, “do you really think of taking -another post? You have not been home for a long time, and your -property must be all going to rack and ruin. Why not resign when you -have seen them through at Bandr Abbas, and go home to look after -things a little?” - -“I don’t want to go home until I can take Cecil,” said Charlie. -“Besides, she prefers me to have something to do instead of loafing.” - -“But if you have land and tenants at home, they ought to be looked -after,” said Cecil. “I never realised it before.” - -“What an unworldly young person you are!” said Charlie. “Yes, there’s -all that, but Aunt Frederica looks after it for me.” - -“By all means, my dear boy, go home and get the place ready for Cecil, -and make acquaintance with her people,” said Lady Haigh. “But don’t -let Frederica choose your carpets and curtains for you. Her taste is -atrocious. And now, Cecil, you have had thirty-five minutes, so say -good-bye and come.” - -“Just one minute more, Cousin Elma,” pleaded Charlie. - -“Not a second,” said Lady Haigh. “Now, Charlie, not another scene of -misery,--I can’t stand it. Say good-bye quickly, my dear boy. If you -harrow up Cecil’s feelings again, it will be too much for her.” - -“I beg your pardon,” said Mr D’Silva’s voice at the door, “but the -boat is waiting for Dr Egerton.” - -“Now, Charlie, my dear boy,” said poor Lady Haigh, entreatingly, as -Charlie still stood with his arms round Cecil. “You will get us all -into trouble, you know, and we have really done all we could for you, -and Sir Dugald will be so much vexed. Good-bye, my dear boy. Now let -her go. Take care of yourself, and don’t be rash. No, you are not to -come farther than this. I will look after Cecil. My dear child, don’t -faint. I don’t know what will happen to us if you do. Charlie, I will -_not_ have you come any farther. Go back, and get on board. Mr -D’Silva, please give Miss Anstruther your arm to the door. Charlie, go -back. My dear boy, good-bye. Give Cecil’s love to her people.” - -And Lady Haigh, reiterating her instructions and prohibitions in a -voice choked with tears, followed Cecil and Mr D’Silva along the -passage, turning suddenly to find that Charlie was following her -stealthily, bent on getting another sight of Cecil. She drove him back -again with one of her quick bursts of passion, and hurried to the spot -where the horses were waiting. She and Mr D’Silva helped Cecil into -the saddle, for she was in a numb, dazed condition, and he led her -horse through the wood and into the road. Pausing only once, to see -the _Seleucia_ passing out of sight round a bend in the stream, they -rode swiftly back to Baghdad, which looked dull and miserable under -the clouded sky, with mud under foot and sodden palm-trees overhead, -and a turbid, rapidly flowing river that could not reflect the mean -houses on either side. - -When Azim Bey returned that night from the ceremony of the -investiture, he was surprised to find his courtyard almost in -darkness. Going into the schoolroom, he found that the only light came -from the glowing charcoal in the brazier, beside which Cecil was -crouching, still in her riding-habit. The wind had risen again, and -was howling round the house and in the beams of the roof, and the -whole scene was one of desolation. - -“Are you ill, mademoiselle?” asked Azim Bey, in the most natural tone -he could devise, while one of the negresses followed him in, carrying -a torch, which shed a flickering light on the darkness. Cecil said -nothing, but looked up at him with eyes of such sadness that they -haunted him in spite of his efforts to banish the impression. - -“I do not understand you, mademoiselle,” he said, unblushingly, in -reply to her unspoken reproof. - -“You have driven Dr Egerton away,” she said. - -“I ask your pardon, mademoiselle. How was I to know that you had any -special interest in the English doctor?” - -“But you did know,” said Cecil, wearily. She had not spirit to contend -with her pupil that night. - -“But, mademoiselle, that is impossible. You have never told me; you -would not even let me approach the subject. How was I to know?” - -“How can I tell?” asked Cecil. “I feel sure that you did know, and -that all this is your doing. Well, Bey, you have won the victory; I -hope you enjoy it. Good-night.” And he saw her no more that evening. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - INTERCEPTED LETTERS. - -In her own room that night, Cecil, in the first strength of her -grief and desolation, took a solemn resolution never on any account to -mention Charlie to Azim Bey again. He was jealous of him--well, he -should have no more cause to be so. So far as her intercourse with her -pupil went, all should be as though Charlie had never existed. In view -of the armed neutrality which had hitherto subsisted between them on -this subject, it was not, perhaps, quite clear in what way she could -do more than she had already done, but it soothed her feelings to make -these resolutions. She would never allude to her engagement in -conversation with Azim Bey again, no, not if she were dying for a -sight of Charlie. Even though all that had happened was to be ascribed -to his malevolent interposition, she would never degrade herself and -Charlie so far as to seek his help in setting things right, nor yet to -recur to the part he had played in the events which had just occurred. -After all, she had come to Baghdad to teach Azim Bey, and not to find -a husband for herself, and it might be that her pupil considered -himself justified in objecting to her interesting herself in such -extraneous matters. At any rate, he should not have to complain of -this again. She would devote herself more earnestly than ever to his -education, but he should never be so far honoured as to have Charlie’s -name mentioned in his hearing. - -The plan seemed to work beautifully. Cecil laboured long the next -morning in removing from her face the traces left by her tears and by -an almost sleepless night, and appeared in the schoolroom as if the -events of the day before had never occurred. Azim Bey understood the -situation perfectly, and accepted it. He was very gracious, and he -could afford to be so, for he had gained all he wanted. Nothing could -well have been more delightful than his behaviour--it might almost be -called chivalrous. If Cecil had not had the memory of yesterday to -warn her, she might have been tempted to imagine that her young -barbarian was becoming a gentleman; but her eyes were opened now, and -she could only wonder and admire, without being convinced. - -The days passed on. Sir Dugald received a telegram from Bandr Abbas to -say that Charlie had reached that place safely, and found an -extraordinary amount of work awaiting him. After that there came a -long unbroken silence. From the Indian newspapers, and through -official channels, they heard occasionally that the epidemic was -running its course, and that the two surgeons were working heroically -among the sick and dying, but there did not come one single message -from Charlie himself. Cecil was astonished, but she never thought of -blaming him. Possibly he would not write to her lest the letter should -convey infection, and he was certainly overwhelmed with work, very -likely with insufficient leisure even for needed rest. In this belief -she bestowed all the more pains on her own letters, doing her best, by -means of their fulness and tenderness, to bridge over the distance -which separated her from her lover, so far as this could be done from -one side only. - -At last Sir Dugald received another telegram, which said that before -resigning his position under Government, Charlie was making a tour of -inspection, in company with a high medical official, of the British -settlements in the Gulf. The cholera had been stamped out at Bandr -Abbas, and when this tour was over, Charlie was going home. The -telegram concluded with the words, “Letters all missed,” which seemed -to shed a little light on the mystery of the sender’s long silence. No -doubt he had written, but in some way or other all his letters had -gone astray. It was strange, however, that even after this none -arrived. Sir Dugald expressed it as his opinion that Charlie must go -about looking for pumps in which to post his letters, under the -impression that they were pillar-boxes; but Lady Haigh and Cecil held -firmly to the belief that, moving about as he was from place to place, -he was too busy to write. In vain did Sir Dugald, who had assumed -quite a paternal authority over Cecil since their confidential talk on -the Sunday preceding Charlie’s departure, urge her to bring her lover -to a sense of his undeserved blessings by suspending her own letters -for a time--she felt that this was impossible. The long -journal-letters supplied the place to her of the Sunday afternoon -talks which she had been accustomed to enjoy. A third telegram -informed them that Charlie was going home, and gave his English -address very clearly. “Letters still gone wrong,” it said again, and -Cecil triumphed over Sir Dugald, although he told her that she was -only saving Charlie’s character as a lover at the expense of his -common-sense. - -The news of Dr Egerton’s resignation of his post was now public -property, and people began to perceive merits which they had hitherto -ignored in the way he had performed his duties. His colleague at Bandr -Abbas and the rest of the English community there were loud in their -praises of his behaviour during the epidemic, and this caused his -former adventurous journeys, undertaken for the purpose of -investigating the diffusion of the disease, to be brought to mind. -Even the fact of his having been instrumental in checking the spread -of a cholera epidemic in his former post,--a success which had been -followed, as he had told Cecil bitterly long before, by his enforced -resignation,--was recalled, and one or two very hard things were said -of the superior who had insisted on his removal. In fact, he was the -hero of the hour among a certain set in India, chiefly consisting, it -is to be feared, of those who had been disappointed and passed over, -like himself, but numbering in their ranks some few who could command -a hearing in the Press. The remarks of the Indian papers were balm to -the souls of Cecil and Lady Haigh, and they read with avidity all that -was said in Charlie’s praise, although Lady Haigh once remarked -sadly-- - -“It all comes too late, Cecil. A little of this encouragement and -appreciation, bestowed three years ago, would have saved this -‘valuable public servant,’ whose loss they deplore so feelingly, to -the public service, for he would have stayed in India, and persevered -in trying for a better post, instead of taking this as a -forlorn-hope.” - -“And then we should never have met!” said Cecil. “Well, Lady Haigh, I -am sorry if you are.” - -To which no answer could be made, and Lady Haigh ceased her -lamentations. But time was passing on, and still there came no news -from Charlie, with the exception of one telegram announcing his safe -arrival in England. Things were becoming more and more mysterious. Why -should four telegrams alone, all addressed to Sir Dugald, arrive out -of all the missives which it was tolerably certain Charlie had sent -off? Cecil felt sure that he could never have received her letters -without answering them; what, then, had become of the answers? It was -not until Christmas-time that the mystery was solved. Cecil was at the -Residency as usual, and when the mail came in she looked eagerly to -see whether there were any letters for her. Again she was -disappointed; there was only one, and this was a bulky epistle from -her stepmother. The appearance of the letter was characteristic of the -writer. The many closely-written sheets were stuffed into a thin -envelope much too small for them, and this had naturally resented such -treatment by giving way, in consequence of which it had been “found -open, and officially sealed.” The direction was blotted and irregular, -and had evidently been written in a violent hurry; and the stamp, -which was upside down, was of double the proper value. Cecil laughed -at the appearance of the envelope, and mentally pictured little Mrs -Anstruther writing in feverish haste to catch the mail, and scrambling -the letter into the post just in time. As usual, the first page was -dated about a fortnight earlier than the last, and Cecil hurried on to -the end. Here at last was the news for which she had been longing. - -“Oh, my dear Cecil,” wrote Mrs Anstruther, “we have had such a -delightful surprise. Your friend Dr Egerton came to see us yesterday, -and we talked about you for hours and hours. Your father and I are -greatly pleased with him, and the little children love him already. He -is staying at the Imperial Hotel, and his aunt is there too, but she -has not her health here, and I don’t think this place suits her. They -seem very well off, and Fitz says that one of the boys at the school -told him that Dr Egerton has really an immensity of money, for it has -been accumulating for him ever since he has been in the East. But, -dear childie, why don’t you write to him? Indeed, indeed, I think you -are not treating him well. He says he has never had one single line -from you, though he has written to you every week. It is not kind of -you, and we were so greatly astonished to hear it that we couldn’t -think of any excuses for you. Sure the poor boy”--these four words -were scratched out, for Mrs Anstruther flattered herself that both her -literary style and her accent were extremely English--“Poor Dr Egerton -is deeply in love with you, but he said himself he could not -understand it. Indeed he was in a great state lest something had -happened to you, but we were able to reassure him about that----” - -Cecil read thus far, and then looked up with a horrified face. - -“Lady Haigh!” she gasped, “every one of my letters has missed, as well -as Charlie’s. What can it be?” - -“Impossible, my dear!” cried Lady Haigh, briskly. “You must have -mistaken what he says. Is his letter from home?” - -“It isn’t from him even now,” said Cecil. “It’s from Mrs Anstruther. -There must have been some dreadful mistake, and what can we do?” - -“I think this concerns you rather than myself, Miss Anstruther,” said -Sir Dugald, coming into the room. “I hope I haven’t read much of it, -but I really did not see at first that the letter which I was desired -under such fearful penalties to deliver to you was on the same sheet -as my own.” - -He held out a letter in Charlie’s writing, which Cecil almost snatched -from his hand. As he said, the first page was occupied by an earnest -request to him to give the letter into Miss Anstruther’s own hands, as -the writer could not help thinking that there had been foul play -hitherto with regard to their correspondence. The other three pages -contained the letter proper, closely written, and overflowing with -passionate anxiety. - -“My darling,” Charlie concluded, “I am certain there must be something -wrong, or you would never have left me without a line all these -months. I heard from D’Silva the other day that that fellow Karalampi -had been at the Residency a good deal lately, and I should not wonder -if he had something to do with it. I do entreat you not on any account -to trust him in the very smallest matter. The man is capable of -anything. I am consumed with anxiety about you. I was talking -yesterday about going out at once to see you and find out what was the -matter, but your father said I should only bring you into trouble, and -entreated me not to think of such a thing. Dearest, you know I would -do anything rather than get you into trouble; but if I can be of the -very smallest help or use to you, let me have a wire, and I will start -at an hour’s notice. Only write, my darling, or I shall go mad.” - -Cecil dropped the letter with a groan, which attracted the attention -of Sir Dugald, who had considerately been discussing his own letters -with Lady Haigh while she read it. - -“Anything wrong, Miss Anstruther?” he asked, kindly. - -“Our letters!” groaned Cecil, “his and mine. Neither of us has ever -received one of them, and we have both written once a-week.” - -“This is serious indeed,” said Sir Dugald. “About sixty letters -altogether, and spread over more than six months! Well, it is quite -evident what has happened, though I confess I should scarcely have -thought the game worth the candle in this case. They have been -tampering with the mail-bags again.” - -“Tampering--who?” cried Cecil. - -“Interested parties, I presume,” said Sir Dugald, drily. “Some -post-office clerk who is learning English and likes to study it by -means of other people’s letters, possibly, but I should scarcely think -so. It’s an old trick, and they have tried it several times here, but -not just lately.” - -“But can you get the letters back?” asked Cecil. - -“Scarcely, I’m afraid. They would be much too compromising to be -allowed to remain in the thief’s possession. No; but we may be able to -stop the robberies in future. I will communicate with Constantinople -at once, and set the Embassy to work. Shall we make the abstraction of -your love-letters a _casus belli_, Miss Anstruther?” - -“It isn’t a laughing matter to me,” said Cecil, dolefully. - -“No, nor to poor Egerton either,” said Sir Dugald. “It was a most -happy thing that he thought of writing to you under cover to me, or we -might never have found out how the trick was worked. You see they have -simply suppressed all Egerton’s letters to you, and all yours directed -to him. Your home letters have arrived as usual, have they not? I -thought so. Well, suppose you set Egerton’s mind at rest by -telegraphing him a Christmas message at once. I think I can guarantee -that it won’t go astray from here.” - -Cecil accepted gratefully Sir Dugald’s suggestion, and despatched a -sufficiently lengthy message. This done, she had leisure to think over -the strange fate of her letters. She could not doubt that their -disappearance had been arranged by the same hand that had contrived -Charlie’s removal from Baghdad, and yet it seemed scarcely likely that -Azim Bey would have thought of such a thing. Charlie’s suggestion as -to M. Karalampi she scouted at once, for what motive could he have for -abstracting her letters, even though he had an old grudge against her, -and no liking for Charlie? But M. Karalampi was destined to be brought -to her mind once again that evening, when she went to have tea with -Mrs Hagopidan, of whom she had seen but little of late. - -“So I hear you have set up another admirer, Cecil?” said the hostess, -when she had inquired and heard the latest news from Whitcliffe. - -“I don’t know what you mean, Myrta,” said Cecil, laughing. - -“My dear girl, you must have noticed that M. Karalampi does you the -honour to admire you. Of course it’s impossible that you could have -the bad taste not to admire him.” - -“I think you forget that I am engaged,” said Cecil, in her stateliest -manner. - -“Not at all, dear, nor does he. He only thinks that it is a merciful -dispensation of Providence which has removed Dr Egerton from Baghdad -and left the way clear for him. They didn’t love each other, those -two. Really, Cecil, I could have danced at times to see Dr Egerton -freeze him with a look, and to behold the murderous glances M. -Karalampi bestowed upon him behind his back. He daren’t have looked at -you then,--it would have been as much as his life was worth,--but now -he has a fair field. How do you like him, dear?” - -“Myrta, you know that if there is a person I detest, it’s that man. I -wish you would not make up these things about him. I don’t like it.” - -“But I am perfectly in earnest, I assure you--much more so than he is. -Of course he only intends a flirtation, just to pass the time, for he -has a wife somewhere. Some people say he has a wife in a good many -places, but no doubt that is merely scandal. But seriously, Cecil, the -creature has the conceit to believe that now that Dr Egerton is safely -out of the way, his own charms will prove irresistible. I believe he -has a bet with young Vogorides on the subject. His sister, Arghiro, -let something drop about it when she was here yesterday, and I thought -I would give you warning.” - -“Thank you, Myrta. I don’t think M. Karalampi will make any more bets -about me.” - -“But you won’t make a scene, Cecil?” - -“I don’t think I am likely to want the world to know how M. Karalampi -thinks of me,” said Cecil, as she rose to go, and her hostess could -learn no more from her. Nor, to her great disappointment, did she ever -succeed in finding out the exact results of her warning. Whether Cecil -snubbed M. Karalampi in public, or administered a few home-truths to -him in private, Mrs Hagopidan never knew, but M. Karalampi’s visits to -the Residency became once more few and far between, and Arghiro -Vogorides let slip that her brother had won his bet, but could not get -the money paid. That was all, and Cecil went on her way satisfied, and -unconscious that her own name was added, deeply underlined, to the -long list in M. Karalampi’s black-books. In this list there were to be -found already all the names of those from whom he had received -slights, or against whom he had conceived a grudge, and also of some -of those whom he had injured, and therefore found it impossible to -forgive. In which category the Pasha’s name appeared it would be -difficult to say,--possibly in all three,--but both that of the -Um-ul-Pasha and that of Azim Bey might have been found in the first. -Most of M. Karalampi’s employers were in his black-books, and it was -one of the chief beauties of his peculiar method of working that he -was able to play them off one against another, and to punish them all -in the course of business. - -The account against Azim Bey was allowed to stand over for a while -just now. By way of making himself agreeable to all parties, M. -Karalampi had done what the Bey wanted, and succeeded in banishing -Charlie from Baghdad. He had even improved upon his instructions by -arranging for the abstraction of the letters, a master-stroke which -delighted Azim Bey when it was communicated to him; but now he -returned to his former employers, whose interests were by no means -identical with those of Cecil’s pupil. The Um-ul-Pasha was once more -embarked on a plot in favour of her eldest grandson, but this time M. -Karalampi held the threads in his own hands, and the result bade fair -to be a work of art. The old vulgar methods of secret assassination, -which had been attempted in vain two years before, were decisively -dropped, and M. Karalampi luxuriated in the employment of moral -suasion alone. He could set strings in motion at Constantinople which -would ensure the Pasha’s ruin if needful, and it was on this fact that -he relied. At the proper moment the question would be put before him, -and he must choose between disgrace and dishonour. Unless he broke his -promise to Azim Bey’s dead mother, and made the outlawed Hussein Bey -his heir, the intriguers who surrounded the Padishah would bring about -his downfall. In either case M. Karalampi would be happy and -victorious. Already he was gloating in anticipation over the thought -of his triumph, already he imagined himself fingering the reward of -his unrighteousness, when a single unlooked-for event dashed all his -plans to the ground. - -After spending some time comparatively quietly in the hills, Hussein -Bey had recommenced his raids into the low country, and his practice -of exacting blackmail from travellers. Attacking one day a rich -caravan which had crossed the mountains in safety from Persia, he met -with an unexpected resistance, which was speedily accounted for by the -arrival of a body of the Pasha’s troops, who had been on the march -from one town to another, and to whom the merchants had sent a swift -messenger imploring help. The robber band was hopelessly outnumbered -by the combined forces of the troops and the armed servants of the -travellers, and a short conflict ended in the death of Hussein Bey and -the utter defeat of his followers. In this way Ahmed Khémi Pasha was -freed from the son who had for so long been a thorn in his side, and -the Bey’s mother and grandmother and their fellow-plotters were left -without an object for their schemes. All their arrangements were -useless, and they recognised this fact after a good deal of mutual -recrimination on the subject of the delay which had occurred. It was -undeniable that Hussein Bey’s death had been so utterly unexpected -that the wisest head could not have arranged the _dénoûment_ of the -plot in time, and nothing more could be done. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - CONFEDERATES. - -After this, things went on quietly enough until it was a year and a -half since Charlie had left Baghdad. Only a year now remained of -Cecil’s stay at the Palace, and Azim Bey was growing so tall and manly -that she felt it was quite time he should soon leave her care. He was -just fourteen and a half, but looked much older than his age, and he -had made wonderful progress in his studies. He was an excellent talker -and a most agreeable companion, with a wide theoretical acquaintance -with modern political and social problems, and a deep practical -knowledge of Eastern ways of settling them. There was something -uncanny in such shrewdness in a boy of his age, and fond though Cecil -was of him, she could now never quite trust him. The subject of -Charlie had not again been mentioned between them, although Cecil -sometimes felt curious to know whether her pupil had got over his -childish dislike. Since the discovery of the fate of their first six -months’ letters, she and Charlie had corresponded with more success, -owing to the precautions they had adopted. Charlie’s letters were -addressed to Sir Dugald at the Residency, and Cecil posted hers there -after Sir Dugald had written the address. The abstraction of the -earlier epistles had been traced to an Armenian post-office clerk who -had died in the interval between the discovery of the theft and the -investigation subsequently made into it, and although for this reason -no punishment could be inflicted, the desires of any who might be -anxious to tread in the offender’s footsteps were frustrated. Whatever -the suspicions of the would-be thieves might be, they dared not stop a -letter addressed by or to the Balio Bey himself. - -There were other ways of getting news, notably by means of letters -concealed in parcels, or brought by friends from England, and it was -by the former means that Cecil received the season’s greetings on the -occasion of her fourth Christmas in Baghdad. A great box was sent out -from Whitcliffe to Mrs Yehudi, containing presents for the -school-children’s Christmas-tree, and among the presents was a letter -for Cecil, very carefully and cunningly hidden. She tore it open -eagerly, wondering why it should be sent with such special care, but -found nothing of any unusual importance until she came to the last -paragraph, which filled her with a vague dread. - -“I don’t feel as though I should be able to stay quiet in England all -next year. The travel-spirit is coming upon me again, and drawing me -Eastward ho! Perhaps it is not only that, but the longing to see some -one in Baghdad, which is drawing me--at any rate, if you don’t hear -from me for a time, you can imagine me anywhere between Beyrout and -Karachi, or between Resht and Aden. But perhaps I shall see you, my -dearest girl, without your knowing it. I wouldn’t get you into trouble -for the world, but I would do anything short of that just to see you -for a moment. I should feel happier about you, and know that that -abominable child had not quite worn you out. Don’t look out for me, -for it’s no good. If I come, you won’t know it, but I will tell you -about it afterwards, and we will laugh over it together.” - -What could Charlie be intending to do? Surely he could not mean to try -and enter Baghdad again, in the face of the danger he had scarcely -escaped, but what else did his words signify? He must be only joking, -trying to make her look out for him, for the foolishness of an attempt -to return to the city must be patent even to his mind. There was no -need to be alarmed, nor to frighten Lady Haigh; but Cecil did not feel -happy until she had written a long letter scolding Charlie for his mad -project, and forbidding him to undertake it. Unhappily, before the -letter reached England, Charlie had started for the East, but Cecil -was not in a position to know this, as will presently appear. - -When Hussein Bey died, it seemed as though the Pasha’s family troubles -were over, for a time at least, and he looked forward hopefully to a -year of domestic peace. Now that she had no one for whom to plot, it -was probable that his mother would soon tire of maintaining an -irreconcilable attitude, and consent to offer terms of accommodation. -The only cloud on the horizon was caused by the behaviour of Jamileh -Khanum, who had now a little son of her own, a fact which produced -exactly the result which Azim Bey had foreseen long ago. For her boy’s -sake, Jamileh Khanum was frantically jealous of his elder brother, and -every sign of favour bestowed by the Pasha on Azim Bey, every expense -incurred on his account, furnished her with a text for a passionate -attack on her husband. For months she teased him at every available -opportunity to procure a French governess for little Najib Bey, but in -vain. The Pasha had had some experience of the difficulty of keeping -the peace between dependents of different European nationalities, and -he had no desire that the tranquillity of the Palace should be -disturbed by the mutual jealousies and patriotic squabbles of Mdlle. -Antaza and any French lady. Jamileh Khanum might have an English nurse -for the baby if she liked, and as soon as he was old enough he might -share Azim Bey’s lessons with Mdlle. Antaza. But both these offers -were scouted by the indignant mother. Her boy to share the -instructions of that insolent Englishwoman, in company with the son of -that wild Arab creature (might her bones not rest in peace!)--never! -Rather should he grow up ignorant, a living monument of his father’s -parsimony and injustice. She had a good deal more to say on the -subject, and was proceeding to say it, when her husband, fortunately -for himself, was called away. - -Much worried by this fresh piece of trouble, Ahmed Khémi Pasha lent a -ready ear to a message which reached him shortly before the great -Turkish festival of Moharram Ghün. His mother sent to say that she -was now advanced in years, a poor widow bereft of her best-beloved -grandson, and she wished to be reconciled at the festival to the -surviving members of her family. The Um-ul-Pasha was given to these -reconciliations, which were generally as shortlived as they were -sudden, but her son was touched by the terms of her message, and -prepared to meet her half-way. Accordingly he went to see her in the -most filial manner possible, was received with all due honour and -affection, and invited to partake of coffee and sweetmeats. During -this repast his mother electrified him still further by expressing a -desire for reconciliation also with Azim Bey. The Pasha caught eagerly -at the idea, for he was well aware of the scandal caused in the city -by his divided house, and he proposed to fetch his son at once to pay -his respects to his grandmother. But the Um-ul-Pasha was not inclined -to be in such a hurry. She had a condition to make before she would -consent to a reconciliation, and she brought it forward at once. It -was nothing less than a plain demand for Mdlle. Antaza’s dismissal. - -Without giving her son time to express his astonishment or his dismay, -the old lady hurried on to give the reasons for her request. The -presence of the Frangi woman in the Palace was a direct insult to -herself, since she had always opposed her coming; her very position in -the household was a scandal, for she was technically in the harem, and -yet could visit her European friends when she liked. Moreover, Mdlle. -Antaza had conducted herself most insolently towards the Um-ul-Pasha -during the whole of her stay in Baghdad, had refused the husband -graciously recommended to her, and had calmly ignored the great lady’s -existence ever since. This sounded so very plausible when the little -episode of the attempted poisoning was forgotten, that the Um-ul-Pasha -paused to admire her own eloquence, but hurried on again when she -perceived that her son was about to speak. She had kept her chief -argument until last, and now produced it with obvious pride. To -dismiss mademoiselle at once would be a great saving of expense. If -she remained a year longer, her five years’ engagement would have been -fulfilled, and she would become entitled to the bonus promised on its -termination, while if she were sent away now for misconduct, this -extra sum would be saved. - -“But there is no misconduct. What charge have you against her?” asked -the Pasha, blankly. - -“Invent one. There’s nothing so easy,” replied his mother, instantly. -“Karalampi----” she perceived her mistake, and hastily altered the -form of the sentence. “I know of a person who will arrange everything, -and support it by unimpeachable evidence.” - -The Pasha sat and pondered the matter deeply, while his mother went on -to declare that the Frangi woman had ruined Azim Bey. She had made him -into an Englishman, and there was nothing of a Turk left about him. -Thus she ran on, with great richness of language and illustration, -while the Pasha slowly made up his mind. It was no sentiment of -chivalry for a woman fighting the battle of life alone in a foreign -country that influenced him finally, but rather a prudent feeling of -reluctance to part with a valuable dependent as the price of a -reconciliation which could not, in all probability, last more than a -month. Then there was the matter of economy. To escape the necessity -of paying the bonus would certainly be a saving, but would it be -possible to get up an accusation of misconduct which could really be -sustained? He had a very clear impression, springing from what he knew -of the absolute blamelessness of Cecil’s behaviour during her life in -the harem, that it would not. To bring such an accusation, and then to -fail to substantiate it, would be nothing short of ruinous. He thought -apprehensively of the Courts, of the impression in England, where he -desired to stand well in public opinion, and he thought above all -things of the Balio Bey. Sir Dugald was certainly given to counselling -economy, but it was scarcely to be expected that he would approve this -particular way of exercising it, while he would be certain to resent -fiercely any charge made against Mdlle. Antaza, an Englishwoman and -his wife’s friend, and when he was officially angry he could be very -terrible indeed. It was this thought which decided the Pasha at last. -He could not face the Balio Bey in such a case, with the knowledge of -a trumped-up slander on his conscience, and he felt shrewdly that in -maintaining his position and carrying on his Government Sir Dugald’s -countenance and approval was of more vital consequence than his -mother’s. This he told her, as delicately as he could, and then -quitted her presence, after a few vain attempts to soften her -resentment, which was loud and voluble. Had he guessed what her next -step would be, it is possible that he might have yielded abjectly even -then, but he departed unconscious of what was in store for him in the -immediate future. - -It would, indeed, have taken a shrewd observer of human nature to -forecast the Um-ul-Pasha’s next move. Having failed to secure her end, -she wasted no time in negotiations, but threw herself into the arms, -figuratively speaking, of Jamileh Khanum, with whom she had been at -daggers drawn ever since the young wife had entered the harem. Angry -with her husband and jealous for her boy, Jamileh Khanum displayed no -inclination to stand upon ceremony when she saw the prospect of -gaining such a powerful ally, and the reconciliation was sealed over -the sleeping form of little Najib Bey, upon whom his grandmother -lavished all the vituperative epithets that occurred to her, for the -purpose of averting the evil-eye. Before the evening of that day -mother and grandmother had united in a league against Azim Bey. The -son of the Hajar woman was to be displaced at any cost, and before -another day was over, M. Karalampi had been informed that his services -were retained on behalf of this new claimant to the rights of Hussein -Bey. - -Unfortunately, from the ladies’ point of view, the negotiations which -had so nearly been crowned with success in the former case had been -allowed entirely to fall through, and a change in the Padishah’s -_entourage_ had removed the persons on whose help M. Karalampi had -relied. It was necessary to begin the work all over again, and to set -about it in a different way, but M. Karalampi still contrived to keep -himself in the background, while all that the distracted Pasha knew -was that his mother and his favourite wife were now bosom friends, and -that this boded mischief to his elder son. He could act decisively -enough, however, when the issue was a clear one, and he took his -measures at once. Azim Bey should accompany him on the progress he was -about to make through the country inhabited by the Kurdish tribes, in -order to keep him out of harm’s way, and Jamileh Khanum should come -also, that she and the Um-ul-Pasha might not have the opportunity of -weaving their plots together in his absence. The plan was no sooner -decided upon than it was put into execution. As before, Cecil and Azim -Bey, with their attendants, received orders to start first, spending a -few days at Said Bey’s house at Hillah, where the Pasha’s great -cavalcade would pick them up. - -Cecil heard this news with dismay. It seemed to her that everything -depended upon her being at Baghdad, in case Charlie really carried out -his foolhardy plan, for if she saw him she might succeed in turning -him back at the threshold of his adventure. But Lady Haigh, who knew -that the last two summers in Baghdad had tried her very much, was -delighted that this one should be passed in the cooler atmosphere of -the Kurdish uplands, and commended the Pasha’s wisdom. Cecil said -nothing to her of the reason she had for wishing to remain in the -city. On the one side was the possibility of endangering Charlie by -attracting attention to him should he really enter the country; on the -other, the fear of lowering him in Sir Dugald’s eyes by revealing the -foolishness to which the Balio Bey would grant no quarter. In spite of -his kindness, Cecil resented extremely the contemptuous light in which -Sir Dugald continued to regard Charlie, and she was resolved not to -give him the chance of thinking him more reckless than he was, in case -he decided to forego his scheme. - -“I suppose it isn’t possible for a European traveller to come into the -pashalik without your knowing it?” she said to Sir Dugald the evening -before her departure, with a desire to make everything sure. - -“Scarcely,” said Sir Dugald. “They seem invariably to begin their -wanderings by getting into trouble with the Turks, and then they write -to me to help them out. No vice-consul will do for them, however near -at hand--it must be the Consul-General or no one.” - -“But suppose they didn’t wish to make themselves prominent, and -managed not to get into trouble--in fact, came into the country quite -quietly, and did their best to remain unnoticed?” - -“Then I should hear of them rather sooner than in the other case,” -said Sir Dugald. “English travellers who didn’t bluster or bully the -natives would be such a phenomenon that both the Pasha and I should be -simply inundated with full, true, and particular accounts of them. It -would be evident to the Turkish mind that they were come for no good, -and were probably either spies or on the look-out for hidden -treasures.” - -“But if they were in disguise?” suggested Cecil, bringing forward -reluctantly her true fear. Sir Dugald laughed heartily. - -“That would be the quickest thing of all,” he said. “An Englishman -trying to pass for a native would be spotted immediately. I have known -of several cases, and the people take a perverse delight in finding -them out. In fact, it’s an infallible means of proclaiming your -nationality and attracting attention to pretend to be an oriental. If -a man is such a fool as to try it, every person he meets becomes a spy -on him at once. It’s natural, of course, for they are afraid he might -try to profane their holy places.” - -“And if you heard of any one who was trying to pass as a native, what -would you do?” asked Cecil. - -“Frighten him out of the country if possible, and if not have him here -and reason him out,” said Sir Dugald. “In his character as a native he -couldn’t venture to resist me, and if he dropped it he would be afraid -of his life. I can’t have irresponsible fools coming here and stirring -up the fanatics to attempt outrages.” - -Cecil was a little comforted by the sense of Sir Dugald’s power which -this conversation gave her, and she left Baghdad cheered by the -conviction that if Charlie did venture into Turkish Arabia, he would -be obliged to quit it very quickly, and with no undue courtesy -lavished upon him. In the absence of her own persuasive reasoning, she -had considerable faith in Sir Dugald’s certain use of _force majeure_, -and he guessed the real source of her anxiety, and smiled grimly as he -promised himself that her confidence in him should be fully justified -if it was necessary. - -At Hillah Naimeh Khanum received Cecil with open arms. They had not -met since Cecil’s visit to the place in the summer of the riot, -although Azim Bey had ridden over several times with his father for a -short stay. In some way or other Naimeh Khanum had obtained an inkling -of her brother’s hatred for Charlie Egerton and its cause, and in the -only long conversation she held with Cecil they talked the matter -over. Naimeh Khanum had been speaking of Azim Bey’s improvement in -appearance and in health, and of the pleasure his progress in his -studies gave to the Pasha, and Cecil in return confessed her -disappointment with respect to the moral side of his nature. - -“But what do you expect?” asked Naimeh Khanum. “Why should he -sacrifice his own wishes for your pleasure? What is there in our -religion to teach him to deny himself? He is a man, a true -believer--what can the happiness of a woman, a Giaour, signify to -him?” - -“But one might hope,” said Cecil, rather hesitatingly, “that some -measure of Christian influence might reach him from all he has read, -even without direct teaching.” - -Naimeh Khanum shook her head. “You forget the strength of the -influences at work in the opposite direction,” she said. “As it is, -you have made my brother wiser, more polished, more European, but his -character is unchanged. He will take all you can give him, and wear it -like a cloak, covering his Eastern nature with it, but he will remain -a Turk underneath all the same. His ideals, his views of women, are -the same as my father’s--they are not yours. You cannot Europeanise -Turkey from the outside.” - -“And you, Khanum?” asked Cecil, “do you still feel as you did?” - -“The same. I have read your book, and its words are good words, but I -have too much to give up. But I must not talk to you about this, -mademoiselle. My husband found me reading the book, and he would have -taken it away if I had not promised him never to speak about it to any -one, especially to you. Ah, mademoiselle, if your people want to make -us good and happy, they must teach the women as well as the men, and -begin at the heart with both.” - -And Cecil could gain no more from her, the rather as they had very -little time for private conversation. Azim Bey’s lessons were going on -just as if they were still at Baghdad, and Said Bey displayed a -disposition to keep his wife from having much to say to the Frangi -woman. Moreover, there were some English people at Hillah just now who -had come out for the purpose of making excavations among the ruins of -Babylon, and had spent much time in measuring and surveying once again -the mighty mounds. The work of exploration, carried on throughout the -pleasant spring days, was now over for the season, and Professor -Howard White and his wife were about to leave Hillah before the summer -heat came on, and to return to Baghdad preparatory to sailing for -home, but for the moment their path crossed Cecil’s on her way to the -Kurdish hills. - -Mrs Howard White had lived at Whitcliffe before her marriage, and had -been a member of Mr Anstruther’s congregation, and when on a visit to -her family, just before starting for Babylonia, she had met Charlie at -St Barnabas’ Vicarage, and all these were reasons which made Cecil -very desirous of seeing her. It seemed as though Azim Bey guessed -this, for he hung about his governess persistently when Mrs Howard -White came to call, and anything approaching confidential talk was out -of the question. But the professor’s wife read rightly the entreaty in -Cecil’s eyes, and an invitation to tea on the last evening of their -stay at Hillah gladdened the hearts of both pupil and governess. Azim -Bey was eager to inspect Professor Howard White’s instruments, of -which he had heard wonderful tales from his brother-in-law, and Cecil, -counting upon his insatiable curiosity to keep him safely in the study -for a time, away from her, was tremblingly anxious for a little -private conversation with her hostess. It was just possible that she -might be able to set her heart at rest by assuring her that Charlie -had given up his foolhardy plan. To know for certain that he was -safely at home in England, absorbed in the repairs of his house and -the business of his estate, Cecil felt that she would go through fire -and water. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION. - -Much as Cecil was troubled on Charlie’s account, her worries were -not all to be laid to his charge, for the near approach of the journey -seemed to have unsettled Azim Bey, and during his last day of lessons -he contrived to test his governess’s patience sorely. - -“I don’t think we need do lessons to-day, mademoiselle,” he said that -morning. - -“Why not?” said Cecil. “Come, Bey, here is this new book on Ethics. We -will read it together, and I will set you questions on each chapter.” - -“I am lazy this morning, mademoiselle, I do not want to work. That -_fête_ yesterday was so unutterably tiresome that I went to sleep. I -know I did, because the gold-lace on the sleeve of Said Bey’s uniform -left a mark upon my face. When I was there, I longed to be in this -room reading, yet now that my desire is granted, I don’t wish to -read.” - -“There is not much use in reading only when you care to do it,” said -Cecil, severely. “It will be a useful mental discipline for you to do -a good morning’s work.” - -“Do you think that kind of discipline is good, mademoiselle?--doing -things one does not like, I mean. Because, if it is, one ought to see -that other people have plenty of it.” - -“They will generally have plenty of it without your providing it for -them,” said Cecil, sighing to think how much discipline of the kind -her pupil had provided for her already. “You had much better try to -make people happier, and leave such discipline alone, except in your -own case.” - -Azim Bey shook his head. “That would not suit me, mademoiselle. For -me, I wish to make people better, and I consider myself peculiarly -fitted to see that they undergo the necessary discipline.” - -“I consider you peculiarly conceited,” said Cecil, “and I am afraid a -great deal of mental discipline will be needed in your case, Bey. But -we are wasting time in this discussion. Let us begin.” - -Azim Bey took the book and settled down to a quarter of an hour’s -steady reading, then looked up, yawned, and showed a disposition to -enter on an argument with regard to a point which he and Cecil had -often discussed before. Cecil declined rather sharply to begin a fresh -controversy, and her pupil returned to his book, only to leave it -again in a minute or two. Thus things went on all the morning, -affording practical proof that yesterday’s dissipation had not agreed -with Azim Bey; and it was the same in the afternoon, when it was time -to go to the Howard Whites’. The house they had occupied was already -beginning to look dismantled, but the little drawing-room in which the -hostess received her guests was still gay with native embroideries and -decorated with quaint pieces of pottery and odds and ends of Assyrian -sculpture. The usual sitting-room, however, was the vine-shaded -terrace, and here Mrs Howard White retired with Cecil, despatching -Azim Bey to the study to enjoy himself. - -But, unfortunately, Professor Howard White had been obliged to ride -out to the mounds with Said Bey, on account of an accusation which had -been brought against him of desecrating a native cemetery in their -vicinity in the course of his observations, and Azim Bey, disdaining -the services of the meek Syrian assistant who offered to show him the -instruments, came and sat down on the terrace with Cecil and her -hostess and interrupted their talk. It was impossible to speak of -Charlie and of Whitcliffe in his presence, and an awkward silence, -broken by spasmodic attempts at conversation, fell on the three. It -was a relief when one of the servants appeared and told Mrs Howard -White that there was a man selling European cutlery and needles in the -courtyard, asking whether she would like to have him brought in. - -“Oh, if you please, madame, let him come in,” entreated Azim Bey, his -usual vivacity returning. “Mademoiselle lost her scissors yesterday, -and I have broken my knife, and I want a new one. May the pedlar come -in?” - -“Oh, certainly. Bring the man in, Habib,” said Mrs Howard White to the -servant, and she moved towards the verandah, where there was a table. -Presently the pedlar entered, escorted in by two or three of the -servants, and by an assistant of his own, who helped to carry his -boxes. The two men were in Armenian costume, with high black caps, -which marked them as coming from Persia, and they spoke Arabic with -the peculiar Persian intonation. When their boxes were opened, the -stock-in-trade displayed was so extensive that Azim Bey went into -raptures, and his delight even blinded him to the combination of the -two obnoxious nationalities, the hated Persian and the despised -Armenian, in the persons of the traders. Not less attracted were Um -Yusuf and the rest of the women, and while Azim Bey chatted eagerly to -the pedlar’s servant over the array of pocket-knives, they gathered -round the other box and coveted endless pairs of scissors. - -“See, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, taking up a fanciful little -needlecase in the shape of a butterfly, “this is a pretty thing. Why -not Azim Bey buy it for Basmeh Kalfa? Look, it open, like this.” - -“Stay, O my mistress,” interrupted the pedlar; “why shouldest thou -spoil my wares? Let thy lady hold it, and I will show her how to open -it.” - -Um Yusuf put the case into Cecil’s hands, and the vendor raised the -flap to show the needles inside. As he did so, his hands met Cecil’s -with a peculiar pressure. Startled, she looked into his eyes, and in -spite of dyed skin, shaven hair and moustache, recognised Charlie in -the Armenian pedlar. The shock was overpowering, and she dropped -helplessly on the divan, too much astonished even to cry out. A deadly -faintness was stealing over her, the figures around seemed to be -whirling in a rainbow-coloured mist, but two words from Charlie -brought her back to her senses. - -“Don’t faint,” he said, sternly, yet in such a low voice that she -alone heard it, and she recalled her wandering wits and rose slowly -from the seat where she had sunk down. With trembling hands she turned -over the pedlar’s stock, and commented on it with lips quivering with -agitation. It was a tremendous effort, but she was nerved to it by the -sound of Azim Bey’s voice at the other end of the verandah. - -“You see I remembered what you said, and came as a Christian this -time,” said Charlie, in a hurried whisper, while he held up a pair of -scissors for her inspection. Cecil gave him a look of agony. She dared -not speak to him, dared not even let him touch her hand again, and it -was misery that they should be so close and yet so widely separated. -It was almost a relief when Azim Bey came to complete his purchases by -buying a pair of scissors for old Ayesha, for even Charlie would not -venture to address her when her pupil was so near. Again the thought -of his danger made her turn sick and faint, and she sat down on the -divan and listened to the details of the bargaining as though in a -dream. At last Azim Bey had chosen all he wanted, the money was paid -down, and Mrs Howard White told the servant to show the pedlar out. -Cecil breathed freely once more. She had not heard the words which -Azim Bey whispered to the negro lad who was officially known as his -slipper-bearer. - -“Keep those men in sight, and bring me word of whatever they do. If -they leave the town without my hearing of it, it shall be upon thy -head.” - -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” said the boy, and departed; while -Cecil, unsuspecting, though sick at heart and racked with anxiety, -accompanied her pupil back to the house of Said Bey. - - * * * * * * * - -“O, my mistress, here is the Christian pedlar again,” said Habib to -Mrs Howard White early the next morning. - -“Bring him in,” said the lady, with evident displeasure; and as soon -as the order had been obeyed, and Habib was gone, she turned on -Charlie. - -“Well, Dr Egerton, I hope you are satisfied. You have given poor Miss -Anstruther a terrible fright, and probably made her miserable for -weeks; and you ought to be now on your way to Baghdad, where, you -assured me, you would go as soon as you had caught a glimpse of her.” - -“But I am not going to Baghdad,” said Charlie. - -“Then I shall simply write to Sir Dugald Haigh and tell him -everything,” said Mrs Howard White, angrily. - -“Listen to me a moment,” said Charlie. “I was fully intending to start -at sunrise this very morning; but last night I was talking to some of -Said Bey’s servants, and I hear that the Pasha is to be accompanied on -this journey by Karalampi, the Greek of whom I have told you. I -cannot, and will not, leave Miss Anstruther exposed to his -machinations.” - -“This is absurd,” said Mrs Howard White. “Miss Anstruther has -succeeded in taking very good care of herself since you left Baghdad, -and I should say that she was quite able to do so still. I call it -arrant selfishness to keep her tormented with anxiety about you by -following the Pasha’s camp, where you can do no good, and may get -yourself and her into great trouble. As for saying that it is done on -her account, you know that it is simply for an adventure--a lark.” - -“It isn’t really, on my word of honour,” said Charlie, quickly. “I -promise you, Mrs Howard White, Cecil shan’t see anything of me, and, -unless she is in danger, shall never even know that I am near her. I -have got permission to follow the Pasha’s caravan--it is quite -natural; lots of traders and people are going to do it--for the sake -of protection through the mountains, and I shall be among the riffraff -at the very end of the procession, while she is among the grandees in -front. She will never even hear of me.” - -“Then what good can you do?” asked Mrs Howard White. - -“I don’t know--just be near in case she needs help, I suppose.” - -“You are a very foolish young man,” said the lady, with severity; “and -why you should want to help her when she doesn’t need any help, I -don’t know. I suppose you will go, since you are set upon it; but -remember that I disapprove entirely of the whole thing, and that I -would never have helped you to meet her here if I had guessed what you -would do.” - -Charlie laughed, and took leave of his hostess to prepare his mules -for the journey, all unconscious of the fact that at that moment he -was the subject of a conversation between Azim Bey and M. -Karalampi--the latter having just arrived in the train of the Pasha. - -“I tell you, monsieur, he is here!” cried the boy in a frenzy. “I saw -him myself, and mademoiselle recognised him. He and his servant are -disguised as Armenians from Julfa, and they are selling knives and -scissors. I have set the boy Ishak to watch them, and he tells me that -they have gained permission to attach themselves to our caravan in -traversing the mountains.” - -“Ah! With the knowledge of mademoiselle?” asked M. Karalampi. - -“No; I am convinced she knows nothing of this. I believe she imagines -that he is returning at once to Baghdad.” - -“So much the better. And what are your wishes, Bey Effendi?” - -“I should like,” said Azim Bey, slowly, as though gloating over each -word--“I should like him to be carried off secretly and kept a -prisoner until after mademoiselle’s five years here are over, and she -has entered into a new agreement to remain. If she heard nothing of -him, she might forget him and be willing to stay with us.” - -“Excellent, Bey Effendi! May I suggest that this time Dr Egerton -should not be intrusted to your friends the Hajar, with whose language -and customs he is well acquainted? If I am right, you do not wish that -this imprisonment should be made too pleasant for him. You desire -something more than mere safekeeping?” - -Azim Bey nodded. M. Karalampi went on, watching his face keenly. - -“The Kurds would suit your purpose much better, Bey Effendi. They have -hiding-places and strongholds in the hills which the Padishah’s whole -army could not discover, and they do not love Christians. They might -be relied upon to keep Dr Egerton so safely that even the Balio Bey -should never hear of him.” - -“That is what I want,” cried Azim Bey, eagerly. “Let him disappear, -and not be heard of until he is wanted, which will not be for a very -long time.” - -“And you do not wish to make any stipulation as to the treatment he is -to receive, Bey Effendi? The Kurds may make a slave of him if they -like?” - -“Anything, so long as they keep him safely,” said Azim Bey. - -M. Karalampi went away well pleased. The news he had just heard, and -his conversation with Azim Bey, had opened up vistas of endless -possibilities of revenge on several of the people against whom he -cherished grudges, besides affording a prospect of gratifying the -wishes of the Um-ul-Pasha and Jamileh Khanum. As for Azim Bey, he -returned to his governess with a quiet mind. He had put matters in -train, and left them in the charge of a safe person, and was able to -enjoy the spectacle of Cecil’s anxiety. In all the bustle of starting -on their further journey, her mind was occupied with other matters -than boxes and bundles. She could not rid herself of the haunting -impression of Charlie’s fatal imprudence. How could he risk death in -this way just for the sake of seeing her? It was foolish, it was -criminal. If only she could have some assurance that he was safely on -his way to Baghdad before Azim Bey’s suspicions were roused! What was -to be done? Could she send Um Yusuf out to make inquiries about him, -and to warn him, if he were still in Hillah, to leave at once? No; -such a step could only serve to awaken suspicion. There was nothing to -be done but to try and let everything take its usual course. In this -belief, she nerved herself to give due attention to her packing, and -at last to don her blue wrapper and mount her mule, although she felt -as though she could not leave the place while Charlie might still be -in it. The appearance of an Armenian, as they passed through the town, -made her start and tremble, but nowhere did her eyes light upon the -face which was now so strange and yet so familiar. She did her best to -assure herself that this showed that Charlie had safely departed, -never guessing that among the miscellaneous throng that closed the -Pasha’s long procession were the two Armenians from Julfa with their -mules and their packs, watched closely by little Ishak. - -The march went on, and still Cecil heard and saw nothing. Across the -desert, up the lower hills, over the sandy tablelands, wound the long -cavalcade, headed by banners and guards, kettledrums and led horses, -and escorted by bands of irregular horsemen belonging to the tribes -whose country was traversed. From pleasant villages in fertile valleys -the people came forth with professions of obedience to the Pasha, and -gifts of provisions for his followers. They were a much finer set of -men than the inhabitants of the plains, strapping Kurds in pink and -black striped garments and preposterous turbans, and sturdy Nestorian -Christians in pointed felt caps, the women nearly all well-dressed, -and often very beautiful. At night a site for the camp was chosen -close to some village, and the richer inhabitants gave up their houses -to the Pasha and his immediate following, while the motley crowd of -hangers-on bivouacked outside. The journey through these districts was -very pleasant, but it did not last long. The lower hills, with their -orchards and vineyards, their rose-thickets and fruit-gardens, were -soon left behind, and the way now lay through the mountains, dark and -steep and rugged, which form the outermost of the natural -fortifications of Kurdistan. - -The Pasha’s tour was not intended solely as a pleasure-trip. It was -meant to combine with this the functions of a triumphal march, for in -the district which was now to be traversed there had lately been -“troubles,” both with the Kurds and the Yezidis, and the Pasha was -making this progress as a kind of outward sign of the restoration of -order, now that the Mutesalim or lieutenant-governor had put down the -disturbances by force. The Mutesalim came to meet his overlord on the -borders of his district, bringing with him a large body of troops, and -the march through the newly pacified regions began. The Mutesalim was -not altogether happy in his mind, for he was conscious that his own -exactions and bad treatment of the people, Moslems and Christians -alike (to ill-treat the heathen, as the Yezidis were called, was a -matter of course), had caused the disturbances. He was further afraid -that they might prove not to have entirely ceased even now, when, by -his glowing reports of the successes he had won, and the peaceful and -prosperous state of the country, he had, quite unintentionally, -tempted the Pasha into paying it a visit. His uneasiness was only too -well grounded. As soon as the caravan was once embarked on the -difficult mountain-paths, it began to be beset by bands of Yezidis, -the survivors of the communities which the Mutesalim had broken up. He -had carried off the children as slaves and murdered all the adults he -could find, but the young and active men had escaped into the -fastnesses of the hills, and were preparing a welcome for their -oppressor. With them were a few Kurds, whose wrath against the -Mutesalim had been sufficiently strong to join them with the -devil-worshippers in opposing him, and they followed out a policy of -harassing the caravan constantly at inconvenient times. They beset it -in difficult places, and were gone before the troops could be brought -up, and they kept up continual alarms in the night, organising a -series of small surprises on the outskirts of the camp. It was very -evident that the disturbances had not been put down, and the Pasha -represented this to the Mutesalim in forcible language. It was plain -that he was absolutely incapable, and insolent as well, since he had -brought his Excellency out from Baghdad to see a conquered country -which was not conquered at all, and the only thing to be done was for -the Pasha himself to take the business seriously in hand. - -When this decision became known, there was loud lamentation and great -dismay in the harem. It was one thing to come on a pleasure-trip, and -quite another to find it turned into a military promenade through a -country swarming with enemies. It was not reassuring to hear, on -camping for the night, that the mountaineers had swept off into -slavery during the march some twenty of the non-combatants in the -rear, nor to find in the morning that two or three guards had been -murdered in the darkness close to one’s tent. Nor was it pleasant, in -the course of the day, just when a particularly nasty place in a steep -descending path had been reached, with a precipice on one side and a -perpendicular wall of rock on the other, to be assailed suddenly by -tremendous stones, which came crashing down across the path, -frightening the mules and almost unseating their riders, while a brisk -fusillade from the summit of the cliffs showed that it was no -avalanche which thus interrupted the march, and caused the ladies to -scream frantically to the guards and soldiers to save them and take -them out of this horrible place. To do the soldiers justice, they were -no more anxious for the ladies’ presence at such a juncture than they -were themselves, declaring that what with the rocks crashing down, the -mules capering, and the women screaming, it was impossible to take aim -or to do anything quietly. Under these circumstances the Pasha thought -it advisable to bestow his household in some safe place before -beginning military operations in earnest, and the caravan moved on as -fast as possible towards the fort and town of Sardiyeh, the seat of -the Mutesalim’s government, where Jamileh Khanum, with her attendants, -was to be left under a strong guard. - -The Mutesalim was to accompany his Excellency into the field, to see -how a little war of this kind ought to be conducted, with the prospect -of almost certain disgrace and probable death if any disaster occurred -to the Pasha’s arms, or any mishap ruffled the Pasha’s temper. -Although in the course of his eventful life Ahmed Khémi had been -under fire more than once, he was not a soldier, and the Mutesalim -thought the outlook sufficiently dreary to send on a message to his -household telling them to leave Sardiyeh and go into hiding before the -Pasha’s arrival, that they might not be exposed to his vengeance. When -the arrival of the caravan at the fort disclosed the fact that the -ladies’ apartments were untenanted, the Mutesalim explained that he -had sent away his family in order that there might be more room for -his Excellency’s household, and the Pasha was graciously pleased to -accept the excuse. The rooms vacated proved, however, insufficient to -meet the needs of the party, and for Cecil and her pupil, with their -attendants, accommodation was found in the best house in the little -town by the simple process of turning the inhabitants out to make room -for them. Whether the rightful owners quartered themselves in turn -upon their neighbours, or whether they retired to the stables or the -kitchen, Cecil could not discover, but she was inexpressibly thankful -to have once more a little domain which she could call her own. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - THE END OF EVERYTHING. - -The journey through the upland country had not been at all a -pleasant one to Cecil, quite irrespective of the continual alarms due -to the attacks of the insurgents. From the very day on which they left -Hillah, Jamileh Khanum’s behaviour had become markedly and -inexplicably disagreeable. She seized every opportunity of heaping -slights on Azim Bey and his governess, and her servants followed her -example. Travelling, as they did, humbly in the rear of the harem -procession, which was headed by the gorgeous _takhtrevan_, with its -velvet cushions and curtains of cloth-of-gold, in which reposed the -Khanum Effendi and her boy, the little band who formed the household -of Azim Bey were exposed to many unpleasantnesses. It became almost a -matter of course that Cecil should find, on reaching the village where -the night was to be spent, that the Khanum Effendi and her household -had appropriated all the accommodation, leaving her and her party no -choice but to camp in the courtyard. She herself would have been -willing to sacrifice much for the sake of peace, but Azim Bey was by -no means like-minded, and the difficulty was generally settled by a -tremendous quarrel between the respective servants, in the course of -which Masûd, armed with a whip and his young master’s authority, -turned out the intruders in sufficient numbers to secure Cecil and the -other women a resting-place where they would be tolerably free from -the attacks of the mosquitoes and other pests of the region. - -Disagreeable as these nightly experiences were, they did not at all -exhaust Jamileh Khanum’s opportunities of making herself unpleasant. -It seemed to Cecil that she was doing her best, with a purposeless -malignity, to lower both Azim Bey and his governess in the eyes of the -servants. Not feeling inclined to assist in this process, Cecil did -her best to keep her followers separate from the rest; but Jamileh -Khanum could never pass the group without an insulting word to her, or -an expression of hatred directed against Azim Bey, who was stigmatised -twenty times a day as the supplanter of his little brother. Cecil’s -patience was sorely tasked, for it was a difficult business to -maintain her own dignity without infringing the respect due to the -Khanum Effendi, and there was no redress. Once on the journey, the -Pasha was scarcely ever to be seen, even by Azim Bey; for custom -required that the gentlemen should all ride at a considerable distance -in front of the harem procession, and for Cecil to have left her -companions to lay her grievances before her employer would have been a -breach of etiquette amounting to a crime. One of the most disagreeable -features of the case was that Jamileh Khanum’s servants imitated their -mistress’s behaviour, and even improved upon it. Azim Bey could always -take care of himself, and Cecil had spirit enough to secure tolerable -respect towards her in her presence, but the treatment which their -household received from that of Jamileh Khanum was galling in the -extreme. Headed by the Levantine Mdlle. Katrina, who had been lent to -her daughter-in-law by the Um-ul-Pasha in view of this journey, the -harem attendants did everything in their power to insult and injure -the servants of the Bey. - -What reason there could be for this state of affairs Cecil could not -conceive, until it struck her one day, from various signs which she -observed, that her slighted admirer, M. Karalampi, was in -communication with Jamileh Khanum. As had been the case at Baghdad, -the go-between was Mdlle. Katrina. It was of course impossible for her -to have any actual intercourse with M. Karalampi, who was in front -with the Pasha; but Mdlle. Katrina had a nephew, an ill-conditioned -youth of mixed parentage and doubtful nationality, who was continually -to be seen hanging about in the neighbourhood of the harem tents. Once -or twice Cecil came upon this individual talking to his aunt in -secluded corners, a thing which could not have happened if the agas -had not diplomatically turned their backs; but it seemed ridiculous to -suppose that M. Karalampi’s schemes could be in any way forwarded by -the petty persecution which had been set on foot, and she thought -little of the matter. It was Um Yusuf who first let her into the -secret of the mortifications she had endured, but this was not until -Sardiyeh was reached, and they were safe in their own house, and as -free from insult as in their courtyard at Baghdad. - -“Come down the hill with me, Um Yusuf,--I want to make a sketch,” -Cecil said to her maid the morning after their arrival, entranced by -the effects of light and shade produced by the sunrise upon the dark -mountains. - -“You not go beyond the gate, mademoiselle?” asked Um Yusuf, anxiously. - -“Why not?” asked Cecil, in astonishment. “There is a place just -outside the town-wall which has a splendid view. We will take little -Ishak to carry the paint-box, and we shall be in sight of the guard at -the gate. Besides, the Kurds would not venture so near to the town.” - -“Mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, slowly and impressively, “you not go -one step outside gate without Masûd. Suppose guard looking the other -way; Kurds or any bad men come up quickly, kill you, kill me, run -away. What good guard do?” - -“But why should the Kurds be lying in wait for us?” asked Cecil, -laughing. - -“I said Kurds _or any bad men_, mademoiselle.” - -“What do you mean, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil, impressed by the woman’s -tone. “Is there any one who wants to kill us?” - -“I tell you what I know,” said Um Yusuf, looking fearfully round the -house-top, where they were standing. “Khanum Effendi want get you away -from Azim Bey, mademoiselle. All this time she been rude to you, and -her servants the same, but when you not there they say to Basmeh -Kalfa, to Masûd, to me, ‘You see your Mdlle. Antaza? What she signify -here? Khanum Effendi do what she like with her. Balio Bey big man, but -his arm not reach to Kurdistan. You help Khanum Effendi get rid of -her, you not be punished, get plenty of money. You say she want poison -Azim Bey, Pasha send her away, all right for you.’ That what they say -to us, mademoiselle, we say no, tell Pasha if they do it again. They -laugh at us, but not try it, and I think they kill you if they can.” - -Cecil turned pale. It was a horrible thing to feel that her enemies -had tried to bribe her own servants to bear false witness against her, -and to know that she owed her life to their faithfulness. Their safety -as well as her own was now at stake, and she did not need another -warning from Um Yusuf. She kept her pupil with her all day, and did -not attempt to go out unless escorted by Masûd. It did not occur to -her to take further precautions, and she did not know until some time -afterwards that Um Yusuf, fearing poison, made a practice of tasting -beforehand every dish which was to be set before her mistress. All the -food used by the household was purchased separately in the market by -Basmeh Kalfa, and none of the harem slaves were allowed to come near -the kitchen. These measures once taken, Um Yusuf felt that things were -tolerably safe, not knowing that Jamileh Khanum’s messengers had -conveyed to M. Karalampi the news of the failure to corrupt the -members of the household, and also of the precautions which had been -adopted, and that the answer returned was that he had a new plan for -effecting the desired purpose just ready to be put in action. - -It afforded a partial relief to Cecil’s anxiety for her pupil when he -was allowed, in answer to his piteous prayers, to accompany his father -and the troops part of the way in their march against the chief -stronghold of the insurgents. He was away for some days, and his -governess employed the time in writing one of the long journal letters -which kept the family at Whitcliffe regularly informed of all her -doings under ordinary circumstances, but had been neglected during the -exciting times of the last few weeks, which were unfavourable to -epistolary composition. But it was still difficult to write, for Cecil -did not dare to say a word on the subject which lay nearest her -heart--that of Charlie’s present whereabouts. The alarm she had felt -on his account in leaving Hillah had increased tenfold now that a -considerable time had elapsed without her hearing from him, and it was -in vain that she tried to comfort herself with the suggestion that the -insurgents might have prevented the passage of any couriers, or that -his letters might have been intercepted once more. She felt sure that -if he had reached Baghdad, he would not have failed to send her some -intimation of his safety through Sir Dugald, with whose letters -neither Azim Bey nor the mountaineers, who cherished a deep veneration -for the British name, would venture to meddle. It was evident, then, -that Charlie was either still in Hillah, or was retracing his steps to -Ispahan by the way he had come--if, at least, he had not been -suspected and seized. - -The thought of this last possibility tormented Cecil day and night, -and the more so that no means of solving the mystery presented -themselves to her. Even if she wrote to Sir Dugald to inform him of -her meeting with Charlie and of her fears respecting his safety, and -inquiries were set on foot, it might have just the effect of arousing -suspicion, and endangering him in his journey back to Persia or his -retirement at Hillah, supposing that he had settled down there to -enjoy a taste of Eastern life once more. Cecil longed wearily for some -assurance that this was the case, and wished too late that she had not -set her face so resolutely against her lover’s eccentricities in the -past. Merely to know now that he was safe in the camp of some sheikh -of the Hajar would have been the height of bliss, but it was a bliss -she was not to enjoy. - -To write her letter under these circumstances, without alluding to the -subject which filled almost all her waking thoughts, was a difficult -task, but she feared that the epistle might fall into unfriendly -hands, and she wrote it without even mentioning Charlie’s name. The -recital of the alarms and moving incidents which had diversified the -passage of the caravan through the mountains took her so long that she -did not finish the letter until the afternoon of the day on which Azim -Bey was expected back, and she gave a sigh of gratification as she -wrapped the envelope in the strong paper covering which was necessary -to protect it against the rough usage it would probably meet with in -its transit to Baghdad. This operation completed, and the packet -firmly sealed, she went out on the broad _lewan_ or piazza to call one -of the servants, who might give it to the Pasha’s courier before he -started on his journey to the city. - -Looking down into the courtyard, without the slightest foreboding of -coming trouble, she saw that the servants had a visitor. Um Yusuf, old -Ayesha, and Basmeh Kalfa were sitting on the ground, entertaining with -coffee and cakes an elderly woman in whom Cecil recognised a former -_kalfa_ of the Um-ul-Pasha’s, who had married a non-commissioned -officer of one of the regiments which formed the guard of honour, and -who had been permitted to accompany her husband on this expedition. -But the cakes stood untasted, and Basmeh Kalfa had paused in the act -of pouring out the coffee, and was holding the pot suspended in the -air, while she and the others stared with eyes of horror at their -visitor, and listened with upraised hands of dismay to some story -which she seemed to be narrating. - -“May God visit it upon my own head if it be not true!” concluded the -stranger, and Cecil heard Um Yusuf apostrophising a string of obscure -Syrian saints, while the two other women murmured, “God forbid!” and -“God is great!” in awestruck tones. - -“How wilt thou tell thy lady, O Um Yusuf?” asked old Ayesha, just as -Um Yusuf looked up, met her mistress’s eye, and dropped in her -consternation the cup she was holding. A feeling for which she could -not account impelled Cecil to descend the steps leading into the court -and enter the group, the members of which started guiltily when they -found her among them, the visitor alone taking refuge in an assumed -carelessness. - -“Is anything wrong? What is the matter?” Cecil asked. - -“Oh, nothing, mademoiselle,” replied Um Yusuf, hastily. “You want me?” - -“I am sure there is something wrong,” said Cecil. “Latifeh Kalfa has -brought bad news. What is it that you are to tell me, Um Yusuf?” - -“You come with me, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, trying to draw her -mistress aside. “That daughter of Shaitan know nothing--she make it -all up.” - -“God forbid!” said Latifeh Kalfa, piously. - -“O my soul, come with me!” entreated Um Yusuf. - -“I insist upon hearing what she has told you,” said Cecil, standing -her ground, although the affectionate epithet from the lips of the -sedate Syrian woman thrilled her with alarm. - -“She say, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, unwillingly, “that those two -Armenians from Hillah were with Pasha’s caravan in the mountains, and -Kurds carry them off.” - -“Is this true?” demanded Cecil of Latifeh Kalfa. - -“I heard it from my husband, who was with the rearguard, O my lady,” -replied the woman; “and more than that, I can testify that though I -had often seen them before, yet they disappeared altogether from that -time.” - -“But was it Kurds, not Yezidis?” asked Cecil. - -“Kurds, O my lady,” purred the woman. She had a soft, smooth voice, -and a way of fastening her eyes sleepily on the person she addressed. -Cecil, standing for a moment overwhelmed, felt an unreasoning hatred -spring up in her heart against her. It was only for the first instant -that the disaster crushed her, however, and she sought immediate -relief in action. - -“I want you to come out with me, Um Yusuf,” she said. - -“But, mademoiselle, Masûd not here. You not go without him?” - -“Yes, I can’t wait.” - -“But they kill us, mademoiselle.” - -“Then stay behind and I will go alone. Don’t you see that there is not -a moment to lose?” - -“If I perish, I perish,” was Um Yusuf’s mental utterance as she -wrapped her sheet round her and followed her mistress without another -word. She would face all the Kurds in Kurdistan rather than let -mademoiselle go out by herself. - -“Where you going, mademoiselle?” she asked, as they approached the -gate. - -“To the little Christian village down in the valley,” responded Cecil, -steadily. “The priest there will help us. He can speak English.” - -“What! Kasha Thoma?” asked Um Yusuf. “Oh yes, he good man, been with -Melican missionaries at Beyrout. But what you say to him, -mademoiselle?” - -“I shall ask him to send off a trustworthy messenger at once to -Baghdad, to tell the Balio Bey what we have heard. If the Pasha were -here, I would go straight to - -[*** missing text. See Transcriber’s Notes.] - -“What you ’fraid of, mademoiselle?” inquired Um Yusuf. - -“That the Kurds may carry Dr Egerton away into the mountains, or take -him to Persia, and perhaps treat him badly,” said Cecil. - -Um Yusuf’s own fears were of a darker nature, but she was wise enough -to keep silence concerning them, and presently her mind became -engrossed with the thought of the peril into which she and her -mistress were running by leaving the town unattended. True, almost -every foot of the winding path which led to the Nestorian village was -under the eye of the watchman at the town-gate, and also of the -Turkish sentinels at the fort, but the untoward events of the journey, -and the alarms of the last few weeks, would have shaken the nerves of -most people, and Um Yusuf’s imagination conjured up lurking Kurds -behind every rock. More than once she was on the point of declaring -her conviction that Latifeh Kalfa’s whole story was a fraud, invented -for the very purpose of decoying Cecil out in this way, that she might -fall into the hands of the Kurdish raiders; but the certainty that, -even if she turned back, her mistress would infallibly go on alone, -kept her silent, and she followed on in the spirit of a martyr, -casting timid glances on either side. Fervently she longed for the -protection of Masûd and his stout cudgel, but neither was at hand. -Her greatest trial was still to come, for at the foot of the hill a -man rose suddenly from the shelter of a clump of bushes and ran -towards them. Um Yusuf screamed and clutched Cecil’s arm. - -“It is only a beggar,” said Cecil, quickly; and indeed the shrunken -form in its multi-coloured rags could scarcely have been considered -formidable in any case. As he reached them the man tore off the -_kaffiyeh_ which enveloped his head, disclosing a face at sight of -which both women started and turned pale. The wasted features were -those of Hanna, the Armenian lad who had been Charlie Egerton’s -servant at Baghdad, and had accompanied him on his foolhardy -adventure. - -“O luckless one!” screamed Um Yusuf, finding her tongue first, “what -evil fate has befallen thee? Where is thy master?” - -“What is that to do with thee?” demanded Hanna. “I am here with a -message from him to thy lady.” - -“Tell me quickly,” cried Cecil, “is he ill? in prison?” - -“He had no time to write,” pursued Hanna, evasively, “but I have -carried his words.” - -“But is he--is he----” gasped Cecil. “He is not dead?” - -“O my lady, he is dead. I am come unto thee with the last words he -said.” - -“Go on,” said Cecil, hoarsely, her tearless eyes searching the man’s -face. - -“I can tell thee but little, O my lady, for all was done so quickly. -My master and I left Hillah with our mules in the train of the Pasha, -desiring to pass through the mountains in safety. But on a certain day -there was an attack made upon the rear-guard, and the robbers -succeeded in getting between it and the main body. There was a great -turmoil, for all the traders and their beasts were mixed up with the -soldiers and the enemy upon a narrow ledge of rock, and in the -confusion a band of Kurds separated some of us from the rest, and -dragged us away by force. Among these were my master and I, for he had -bidden me keep close beside him. Then they bound our hands and -fastened us to their saddles, and led us along many steep and winding -paths, going continually farther into the mountains. But my master -said, ‘Courage, Hanna! don’t lose heart. We will yet slip away from -them,’ and I was cheered, knowing his coolness and bravery. But at -last they left the horses behind, and began to climb up rocks such as -the wild goats love, still leading my master and me with them. So then -we came to a valley in the highest part of the mountains, in which -there was a pool of water and some sheep, and when my master saw the -place, he said, ‘Our wanderings are over, O Hanna, for they would -never have shown us this stronghold of theirs had they meant us to -leave it alive.’ Now in this valley were caves, and into one of these -they thrust my master and me, leaving us without food or water for two -days and nights. But on the third day one of the Kurds in passing -called out to us between the stones at the mouth of the cave, ‘Dogs of -Christians, prepare for death!’ Then while my master and I looked at -one another, the rest came and took down the stones and led my master -away. But as he went he turned and said to me, ‘If thou shouldst -escape, seek out Mdlle. Antaza, and say this to her from me’--and -truly, O my lady, I have repeated it night and morning on my fingers, -lest I should forget it, for it was seven English words”--and -spreading out his hand, Hanna read off mechanically, -“‘Good--bye--dar--ling--God--bless--you.’” - -A choking sob burst from Cecil, but she signed to the man to continue. - -“That was the last time I saw my master alive, O my lady. But that -evening they led me forth also, and I thought that surely my hour of -death was come, but they took me only to the brow of a precipice, and -told me to look down. And looking down, I saw----” - -“What?” asked Cecil, sharply. - -“I saw my master’s body lying far below, in the Armenian dress he had -worn, in a pit as deep as Jehannam. And the robbers laughed at me, and -bade me mark the place well, saying, ‘Thy master’s turn to-day, thine -to-morrow.’ Then they led me back, more dead than alive with fear; but -behold! before we reached the cave we found coming to meet us certain -other Kurds, who had only just arrived in the stronghold, and those -with me stopped to salute them and to ask them of their welfare. And -after welcoming them they killed a sheep and made a feast, leaving me -in the cave, but with no stone at its mouth. And when they were eating -and were merry, and it was dark and no guard set, I crept out, and -finding the sword of a man who had thrown it aside while he ate, I cut -through my bonds. Then, taking the sword with me, and some bread that -lay near, I stole away, and when I was out of earshot of the Kurds, I -started to run. But how I found the way down the mountain, or how I -did not fall and die, I cannot tell; I know only that I made my way -hither, and for three days have I watched for thee, O my lady, to give -thee the message of the dead. But into the town I could not come, for -the watchman at the gate drove me away.” - -“And what wilt thou do now?” asked Um Yusuf. - -“I should wish to return to Baghdad and my own people,” he said; “but -how am I to go there, when my master is dead, and the Kurds have -robbed me?” - -“Go to Baghdad,” said Cecil, emptying her purse mechanically into his -hands, “and tell the Balio Bey what you have told me. Don’t lose -time--but no, there is no need of any hurry now. Let us go back to -Sardiyeh, Um Yusuf. Kasha Thoma cannot help us.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - PRISONERS. - -They retraced their steps up the rugged hill-path, Cecil first, Um -Yusuf following her, and went in at the gate, climbing the steep -rock-hewn lanes of the little town in silence. At their house-door -Masûd was lounging in his accustomed place, and started up in -astonishment on seeing them approaching from the street. - -“This is not well, O my lady,” he said to Cecil, with an air of -respectful remonstrance which would have amused her at any other time. -“Does my lady wish to bring wrath upon her servant’s head from the Bey -Effendi, that she goes out without summoning him to attend upon her?” - -“Hold thy peace, foolish one!” cried Um Yusuf, as Cecil turned and -stared at him with unseeing eyes. “Is my lady to be taken to task by -thy insolent tongue? Let her pass, or I will complain to the Bey -Effendi of thy rudeness.” - -Sorely perplexed, Masûd yielded the point, and opened the gate for -them. Ayesha and the other women were looking out curiously from the -doorway of their room, but on catching sight of Cecil they drew back, -and she passed on with bowed head. Mounting the steps of the _lewan_, -she entered her own room, and dropped on the divan with a wordless -moan. At present she did not in the least realise the full horror of -the news she had heard; she only knew that a sudden blow had fallen -upon her, blotting out all recollection and deadening every feeling. -All night she lay where she had sunk down, deaf to Um Yusuf’s -remonstrances and entreaties; and when she allowed herself to be -raised from the divan in the morning, it was only to return to it -again, leaving her breakfast untasted, and to sit crouched in a -corner, staring before her with stony eyes. In vain Um Yusuf pleaded -and entreated; her mistress did not even seem to hear her, and noticed -her presence as little as she did that of the other women, who crowded -round the door of her room, looking pityingly at her. They had no idea -of the instinctive desire for solitude of one in deep grief; their -notion of showing sympathy was to assemble together and discuss all -the circumstances of the case in the mourner’s hearing, and Um Yusuf -was too much harassed, too anxious for help and advice, to drive them -away, as she would ordinarily have done. That Mdlle. Antaza had gone -mad was the general opinion, and this was confirmed by the fact that -she took no notice of the intruders, and seemed neither to see nor -hear them. Um Yusuf was at her wits’ end. She knew no more of mental -pathology than she did of comparative anatomy, but she had the help of -long experience to guide her, and she knew that this deadly calm must -be broken. - -At last, as the readiest means of effecting this, she went in search -of Azim Bey. He had only just returned, a day later than he was -expected, and was hearing from Masûd all that the worthy aga could -tell him of what had happened. To say that he was appalled is only -faintly to describe his feelings. He had often wished Charlie out of -the way, and it is not improbable that he would have been deeply -grateful for any fatal accident or illness which had removed him from -mademoiselle’s path. But that Dr Egerton should be murdered in cold -blood, and that, too, as a direct consequence of the arrangement he -had made with M. Karalampi, was a very different thing. He shrank back -and shivered at the thought of meeting Cecil, but Um Yusuf would take -no denial, and fairly led him back to the sitting-room. Her stony -silence and the reproachful glances of the other women were sufficient -to make a deep impression even on his hardened young heart; but when -he saw Cecil crouched on the divan, her eyes fixed, her hands hanging -idle, he would have fled if he could. Um Yusuf, expecting such an -attempt, pushed him into the room, and as he entered it timidly, Cecil -looked up and met his gaze, then turned away with a shuddering sigh. -He could not bear it. - -“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, rushing to her, regardless of the shiver -of repulsion with which she drew herself away from him, “forgive me!” - -“Then it was your fault,” said Cecil, slowly. “You had him killed.” - -“No, mademoiselle, not that--not that! Oh, my dear mademoiselle, I -have been very wicked, very unkind, but I never wanted him killed. I -wished him to be kept safely, where you would not see him, until the -time came for you to leave us, that I might try to make you stay with -me, and then he was to be set free; but what I wanted was never -this--never this, mademoiselle,” and he flung himself sobbing at her -feet and kissed the hem of her dress. - -“Tell me, Bey,” said Cecil, laying a hand on his shoulder, and -speaking in the same restrained tones, “can you say truly that you had -no hand in his death?” - -“None, mademoiselle, none!” sobbed Azim Bey. “It is my fault, for I -hated him, and wished him to be carried off by the Kurds, but I never -wanted him dead, and I would give all I have to bring him back to life -now. Oh, mademoiselle, only forgive me, and we will avenge his death a -thousand times over. I will speak to my father of these wretches who -have murdered Dr Egerton, and they shall give a life for every drop of -his blood. They shall be swept from the face of the earth, and their -wives and children and all belonging to them, and their houses shall -be made a desolation for ever. And as for M. Karalampi, that Shaitan, -he shall be----” - -“Oh, hush, Bey,” said Cecil, shuddering; “I don’t want vengeance. How -can you suggest it? These men have only understood your orders a -little too well. And how could it comfort me to know that innocent -women and children were punished for the fault of the men?--it would -make my grief ten times greater. But oh, Bey, remember,” and her voice -was choked, “that a life once taken can never be restored.” - -She broke down and sobbed passionately, while Azim Bey knelt at her -feet, entreating her forgiveness again and again. He would not leave -her until Um Yusuf laid a strong hand on his shoulder and dragged him -away, telling him that he would make mademoiselle ill. Even then he -broke away from her grasp at the door and rushed back, with a piteous -entreaty that Cecil would say she forgave him; but she was too much -overcome with the violence of her grief to answer, and he went away -sorrowful. Um Yusuf was better pleased, for her plan had succeeded. -She had made her mistress shed tears at last, and she waited until she -was exhausted with weeping and then coaxed her to go to bed. Sheer -bodily fatigue made her sleep, and she awoke the next day in a more -normal condition. It was characteristic of her that when once the -haunting consciousness of overshadowing trouble which oppressed her on -waking had resolved itself into the terrible knowledge that her world -was from henceforth bereft of Charlie, her next thought was that the -ordinary duties of the day must still be fulfilled, and she set -herself mechanically to dress as usual, and went out on the _lewan_ to -seek her pupil. He was there, wandering aimlessly and miserably about, -and came timidly to kiss her hand, with evident fear and reluctance. - -“Can you forgive me, mademoiselle?” he asked, anxiously. “It was my -fault, but I never meant to do it.” The sadness in his voice went to -Cecil’s heart. - -“God helping me, Bey, I do forgive you,” she answered with quivering -lips; “but please don’t speak about it any more.” - -The boy kissed her hand again in silence, and the compact was sealed, -but the subject which neither of them mentioned was continually in -both their minds. They went to lessons as usual, and Cecil tried -honestly to behave to her pupil just as she had always done; but once -or twice the thought of that scene in the Kurdish stronghold returned -upon her so powerfully that she turned from him with an irrepressible -shudder. She could see it all--the group of fanatical mountaineers on -the brow of the precipice surrounding the solitary figure with bound -hands and ragged Armenian dress. She could hear the rapid questions -and answers passing between the Kurds and their prisoner, and the -fierce taunts and shout of derision that succeeded them. And -then--then--she saw the headlong plunge outwards into space, the -piteous crash, the mangled form that lay motionless at the foot of the -steep, a bloodstained heap of rags, as it had appeared to the -trembling Hanna, forced to his knees by the murderers on the cliff -above that he might behold their work. - -“Oh, Charlie, Charlie, if I could have died instead!” she cried, -wildly, dropping her book and beginning to pace up and down the -_lewan_, every nerve throbbing with the bitter consciousness of her -own powerlessness at the time of Charlie’s greatest need. And she had -known nothing of it at the time! How was it that no sense of his -danger had penetrated to her mind--that she had not known intuitively -that he was tasting the bitterness of death while she was occupied in -trying to still the petty squabbles between her servants and those of -Jamileh Khanum? Surely there must be something wanting in her, that -such a crisis could arrive in the life of the man to whom her whole -heart was given, and she know nothing of it? True, she could not have -helped him, but she could have prayed with him and for him, and -perhaps some hint of her distant sympathy might have reached him even -at that terrible moment. - -“Mademoiselle!” said Azim Bey, timidly, and Cecil pressed her hands to -her head and sat down again, trying hard to conquer the feeling of -repulsion which the boy’s mere presence gave her. The natural fairness -of her mind would not allow her to hold him responsible for the -extreme consequences of his childish jealousy, but she dared not trust -herself to dwell upon the thought that but for his interference -Charlie might be alive and well now. The memory which she thus thrust -from her had come unbidden to the mind of Azim Bey, and for once his -remorse was deep and lasting. Cecil’s white face and heavy eyes were a -constant reproach to him, and he did his utmost to testify his sorrow -for what he had done. Any wish that she expressed was to be gratified -immediately, and he watched over her and waited upon her with a -faithfulness which touched her extremely. The women and Masûd -followed his example, and vied with each other in doing her all the -kindnesses in their power; but as the weeks passed on, it became -evident that other people were not so forbearing. Latifeh Kalfa was a -frequent visitor to the courtyard at this time, and took to gossiping -with the negresses when she found herself shunned by the white women -as a bringer of evil tidings; and what happened immediately afterwards -left little doubt that she had been commissioned to report on what she -saw and heard. Jamileh Khanum sent for Azim Bey and questioned him -closely as to the cause of the change which had come over his -governess. He returned from his interview with her grave and unhappy, -but said nothing before the servants. - -“Mademoiselle,” he said to Cecil, as they sat beside the brazier after -supper, “there is something I must say to you. You have enemies in the -harem, and they make up lying reports about you to tell my father when -he returns. The little lady mother said to Mdlle. Katrina when I was -there that you were going mad, and that you had taken a dislike to me -and would murder me. They know what happened to--him, and they think -you will try to avenge his death on me.” - -“And you are not afraid, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a sad smile. - -“I? oh no, mademoiselle. I know that you are good, and that you love -me, since you have even forgiven me. I don’t want them to send you -away from me, but that is what they wish to do, and they will do it if -they can persuade the Pasha. They are going to send the _hakim bashi_ -to see you, and they will talk to him beforehand, so that he will do -what they tell him. Could you not look a little more cheerful, dear -mademoiselle, just when he comes?” - -“I will try,” said Cecil, but when she looked at herself in the glass -it struck her that the attempt would be of little use. Could that -pale, sad face, from which mournful eyes looked out at her, be her -own? If so, it was no wonder that Jamileh Khanum was startled by the -change, since even Cecil herself found it surprising. The strain of -keeping up her spirits in Azim Bey’s presence was tremendous, and day -after day the difficulty of going through the routine of work and -recreation became greater. But for his sake she would try to impress -the physician favourably, impossible though it seemed even to affect -cheerfulness. - -The _hakim bashi_ arrived, and she did her best, receiving him with -what composure she could muster, and forcing herself to an unexpected -burst of high spirits, which only confirmed the physician in the -belief which his patroness and her attendant had diligently instilled -into his mind, that Mdlle. Antaza’s brain was affected. In this -opinion he was strengthened when, on coming back hastily to fetch -something he had left, he surprised Cecil in a fit of deep depression, -into which she had sunk on the withdrawal of the momentary excitement. -For a time, however, nothing came of his visit, and Azim Bey’s -household began to hope that the alarm had been a false one, designed -by Jamileh Khanum for the purpose of frightening them, when an order -came from the Pasha that everything was to be packed up, and every one -ready to start at a moment’s notice. Flushed with victory, Ahmed -Khémi was returning to Baghdad by a road slightly different from that -which he had taken in coming, and his household, with the military -escort, was to meet him at a spot situated a good deal lower down the -mountain than was Sardiyeh. - -Two or three days after the order had been given, Cecil and her pupil -were disturbed at breakfast by a sudden invasion of their courtyard. -Two of the harem agas swaggered in, and with more than their usual -insolence announced that they brought the Khanum Effendi’s orders. -Azim Bey and his attendants were to start that morning with the harem -procession, which was almost ready for the journey, but Mdlle. Antaza -and her nurse were to remain where they were for the present. Cecil’s -anger rose at this cool command. - -“The Khanum Effendi has no right to detain me here,” she said, -quickly. - -“Pasha’s order,” was the sole reply, and the chief aga held out a -document which on examination proved to be a permission from his -Excellency for Mdlle. Antaza to remain behind in the mountains for -rest, according to the _hakim bashi’s_ recommendation, until her -health should be completely restored. Sardiyeh was to continue to be -her residence until further orders should be received. Cecil read the -paper through and handed it back calmly to the man. Nothing had power -to astonish her now. If the order had been for her instant execution, -she would scarcely have felt surprise. But to the other women the blow -came unexpectedly, and they pressed forward with loud weeping to kiss -her hands and the hem of her dress. That they feared something much -worse than the letter implied was evident, and they heaped blessings -and expressions of pity upon her alternately, while Um Yusuf stood by -and abused the agas roundly, in especial threatening them in such -moving terms with the wrath of the Balio Bey that they glanced round -apprehensively, as though expecting to see Sir Dugald appear -miraculously in all his might as the champion of injured virtue. -Speedily recovering themselves, however, they drove off the women, -wailing and beating their breasts and calling down maledictions upon -the agas’ respective ancestors, while Azim Bey, who had been standing -at Cecil’s side, was also ordered to accompany them. The boy’s very -lips were white as he kissed his governess’s hand. - -“Don’t lose heart, mademoiselle,” he whispered. “I know they intend -evil against you, but my father shall know everything, and if he will -not help I will speak to the Balio Bey.” - -“Are we to be left here alone?” asked Cecil of the agas. - -“My lady’s servants are charged by the Khanum Effendi to wait upon and -watch over her and her nurse,” said the chief, gruffly. - -“We are to be prisoners, then?” said Cecil, as Azim Bey shuddered and -gripped her hand more tightly. - -“That is as my lady pleases,” returned the man. “Within these walls -she may do what she likes, but outside there are the Kurds and the -worshippers of Shaitan, and the Mutesalim will be returning, who has -no fear of the Balio Bey, and therefore the Khanum Effendi, in her -care for my lady, considers that it will be well for her not to leave -the house.” - -“Listen to me, O Aga Mansur,” cried Azim Bey, “and upon thy head be it -if thou fail in what I command thee. I leave mademoiselle in thy -charge, and if she suffers any hurt, I swear by my father’s beard that -thou shalt pay for it.” - -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” was the ceremonious answer. “Will it -please my lord now to depart?” - -Azim Bey went out with all the dignity he could muster, though the -tears were very near his eyes, while the two strange agas took -Masûd’s place at the gate and proceeded to arrange their belongings -in his room. The door was now shut, and the two captives returned to -the _lewan_ to consider the situation. - -“The Khanum Effendi want kill us,” said Um Yusuf, angry and alarmed. -“You got pistol, mademoiselle? knife? dagger?” - -“Only a penknife,” said Cecil, wearily. “What does it signify, Um -Yusuf? I don’t believe they mean to kill us, and if they did, a -penknife wouldn’t prevent them.” - -But Um Yusuf was not to be silenced. She instituted a methodical -search for arms, and was successful in discovering two table-knives -which had been brought from Baghdad for Cecil’s use. The shape and -size of these made them difficult to carry about the person, but she -concealed them with great care among the cushions of the divan, and -felt happier. At night her fears revived, and she dragged her bed into -her mistress’s room, and insisted on closing the window and -barricading the door with every movable thing she could find, and this -state of siege she maintained with unflagging perseverance. The two -agas took no notice, and seemed to feel little interest in anything -their prisoners did. If their intentions were evil, they feared Um -Yusuf’s precautions too much to put them into execution, and thus days -and weeks slipped by without alarm. - -To Cecil the time was one of rest, so much needed as to be almost -welcome. She made little or no attempt to occupy herself with books or -work, but sat on the house-top gazing at the mountains and the sky, -and seldom speaking. Um Yusuf became very uneasy about her, fearing -this quiet acquiescence in her grief almost more than the feverish -excitement of the days before the departure of Azim Bey and the rest. -It seemed to her that her mistress needed rousing and taking out of -herself, and she honestly did her best to effect this, according to -her lights. She encouraged her to sketch, tried in vain to induce her -to study, and even gave herself the trouble of fashioning a -draught-board and set of men, with the aid of one of the precious -table-knives, so that she might invite her to play. - -“Why you not write your memoirs, mademoiselle?” she said more than -once. “The Khanum Effendi’s governess, in Tahir Pasha’s house, she -always write when she was alone, say she get great deal of money some -day. She put in all that everybody say, and all the things she not -like.” - -“My experiences are not interesting enough,” Cecil would say, -patiently, for she knew that Um Yusuf teased her from the best -possible motives. “I couldn’t write about the things I have really -felt, and who cares nowadays for descriptions of ruins and deserts? -When I am dead, Fitz and Eily and the rest can publish my letters for -their grandchildren’s benefit, if they like, but I won’t do it.” - -Um Yusuf would yield for the moment with a sigh, and proceed to relate -stories from her family history, with the view of diverting Cecil’s -mind from her own sorrows, and showing her that there were people -worse off than herself. The stories were all about massacres, and -fearful torments endured at the hands of Moslems and Druses, of a -character to make the listener’s hair stand on end with horror on -ordinary occasions, but Cecil could not be roused into taking more -than a languid interest in the events described. Sometimes she did not -even hear them. It never struck Um Yusuf that this season of absolute -rest was exactly what her mistress needed, coming, as it did, when -body and mind, stunned by a fearful shock, were almost failing under -the effort to carry on the everyday routine of work. There was an -atmosphere of calm which almost amounted to happiness spread over -these days, and Cecil lived through them idly, her mind dwelling in -the past, with no thought of the future. The sense of abiding loss was -always with her, but she lived over again the five years during which -she had known Charlie, and felt almost as though his presence were -near her still. No thought of picturing the infinite sadness of a -return to daily life without him had yet presented itself to trouble -her, just as she had not energy enough to speculate on the duration of -her imprisonment, nor to form any plans as to her future. It was a -time merely of waiting, uncoloured either by hope or despair. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - “THE VOICE OF ENGLAND IN THE EAST.” - -Leaving Cecil and Um Yusuf in their captivity at Sardiyeh, the harem -procession made its way down the winding mountain-paths, a curious -assemblage of closely swathed white figures mounted on mules and -donkeys, and headed by the waving curtains of Jamileh Khanum’s litter. -On either side rode the black agas, armed with whips with which to -drive off any inquisitive wayfarer; and before and behind came the -guard of soldiers whom the Pasha had left under the charge of his -master of the horse for the purpose of protecting his wife. At the end -of the train of women and agas rode Azim Bey and his attendants, -obliged to follow even the negresses who acted as cooks and -scullerymaids, a humiliation which sorely tasked the boy’s proud -spirit. But this was not the worst. He felt convinced, from the -meaning looks and whispered words which passed among the women, that -the Khanum Effendi was considered to have gained not only a moral but -a material victory in that she had succeeded in getting rid of Cecil. -That some evil was intended against him, to which his governess’s -presence was considered a bar, he was sure, and he felt more lonely -and helpless than he had ever done in his life. And indeed Jamileh -Khanum was jubilant as she reclined on her gold-embroidered cushions. -She had accomplished the task in which she had so often failed, and -separated Cecil from her pupil with comparatively little difficulty. - -“You must get rid of Mdlle. Antaza if you wish to reach Azim Bey,” had -been one of M. Karalampi’s messages to her through Mdlle. Katrina. -“Separately we can deal with them easily, but together they are too -strong for us.” - -This had been the secret of the attempts made to sap the loyalty of -the servants, and induce them to bring a false accusation against -Cecil--this also of the hints and threatenings of murder which had -alarmed Um Yusuf; but it was M. Karalampi, assisted unintentionally by -Azim Bey himself, who had devised the plan by which the news of -Charlie’s murder had after all produced the desired effect. So far -everything had gone smoothly. Immediately after telling his story to -Cecil, Hanna had been seized and conveyed to a distance, and was now -in safe custody, for it was no part of the scheme that he should be -allowed to reach Baghdad and acquaint the Balio Bey with what had -happened. And now, as she counted the hours until the place named by -the Pasha as the rendezvous should be reached, Jamileh Khanum felt -calm and triumphant. Her part in the conspiracy had been faithfully -performed; it only rested with M. Karalampi to do his share. -Everything was ready; Mdlle. Katrina had only to see her nephew and -give him the message that Azim Bey was now unprotected by the presence -of his governess, and might safely be attacked. All details were left -to him; the only thing that Jamileh Khanum cared for was to get her -stepson out of the way. - -But at the rendezvous disappointment was awaiting her. Neither M. -Karalampi nor his ill-conditioned servant was to be seen, and it was -some time before Mdlle. Katrina succeeded in discovering that they -were not with the Pasha at all. Instead of being in attendance on his -Excellency, M. Karalampi had been left behind in the disturbed -district, nominally as secretary to the Mutesalim, who had been -wounded during the Pasha’s military operations, but in reality as a -spy upon him, to the great disgust of both. The Mutesalim naturally -resented the indignity of being saddled with a guardian who must be -“squared” by receiving a considerable share of every piece of plunder -unless his charge’s doings were to be reported to the Pasha, and a -good deal blackened in the process, but his emotions were mild -compared with those of M. Karalampi. His anger arose from the fact -that by this action the Pasha had unconsciously neutralised all his -plans. Of what use was it to have devised these complicated manœuvres -for getting Cecil out of the way, if he could not proceed with the -designs he had formed against her pupil? Worse than this, he felt a -presentiment that in her wrath and disappointment Jamileh Khanum would -try to do the work herself, in some clumsy inartistic way that would -lead to the ruin of the whole scheme, and he was right. - -Now that the harem procession had rejoined that of his Excellency, no -further stay was made in the mountains, and the whole cavalcade -proceeded on its way towards Baghdad. At one of the towns through -which it passed a fair was being held, and the Pasha consented that -half a day should be spent in this place, at the earnest request of -the master of the horse, who saw a chance of replenishing the Palace -stables at moderate cost. The decision was not quite so satisfactory -to the merchants and country-people who had brought horses to sell at -the fair, for they foresaw an unequal contest, in which their wares -would be taken from them at such prices as seemed good to the master -of the horse, with all the power of the Pasha behind him. With many -laments, therefore, they settled in their own minds the bribe which -must be offered to the official in order to secure his meeting their -views in each case, and bemoaned their hard lot in coming to the fair -just as his Excellency was passing through the town. But to Jamileh -Khanum the fair presented itself as offering a providential solution -of a difficulty. Taking counsel with no one, she intrusted her chief -aga with a confidential commission to buy for her the handsomest and -wickedest Kurdish pony he could find, and to have it fitted with -saddle and bridle of the finest materials and workmanship regardless -of expense. Her order was carried out to the letter. The aga secured a -pony which bore the worst of reputations from all its owners, for it -had already changed hands repeatedly, and would have been got rid of -as useless had it not been for its beauty. Its chief merit with -reference to the particular end in view was the general testimony that -these peculiarities of character did not become evident until the -intending rider was in the saddle, and the chief aga rubbed his hands -with delight as he superintended the decking of the animal with the -most gorgeous trappings he could procure. - -“The Khanum Effendi will be well pleased,” he muttered to himself, -feeling already in his hand the bakhshish which his mistress placed -there a short time afterwards, when she had inspected the pony and -heard its record. The next step was to send it round to Azim Bey’s -quarters as a present from his stepmother, and had he been in reality -the guileless child that Jamileh Khanum trusted he might show himself, -his career would probably have ended as abruptly as she wished. But he -was to the full as wily and as suspicious as herself, and the mere -circumstance of her sending him a present was sufficient to put him on -his guard. He sent his thanks to the donor in the most orthodox way, -walked round the pony in delight, examining its beauties, and called -little Ishak, the slipper-bearer. - -“Mount the pony for me, O Ishak,” he said, “and ride him round the -courtyard, that I may see his paces.” - -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” responded Ishak, and did his best to -obey. But no sooner was he mounted than the animal gave a complicated -bound, something between a standing leap, a wriggle, and a buck-jump, -and Ishak came to the ground with a crash. - -“God is great!” burst from Masûd. “What wisdom is this of my lord’s?” - -“Take him up, and send for the _hakim bashi_,” said Azim Bey, “and -take care that the pony is kept for the Pasha to see.” - -Severe concussion of the brain was the result of the experiment on -poor little Ishak’s part, but the _hakim bashi_ pointed out that to -any one but a negro the blow would have meant almost certain death, a -fact which spoke volumes to the Pasha. His Excellency accepted the -warning thus conveyed, for he had felt anxious about his son’s safety -ever since he had heard of Cecil’s illness. Had the report of the case -reached him on the authority of Jamileh Khanum alone, he would not -have believed it; but when, at her earnest request, he had sent his -own physician to see Mdlle. Antaza, and he confirmed her account, he -could not well refuse the governess a few weeks of rest, even at the -cost of danger to Azim Bey. Now he resolved to keep the boy with him -constantly until Cecil’s return, and never to allow him out of his -sight. - -Under these circumstances Azim Bey made sure that he should be able to -secure Cecil’s recall at once; but in this he was reckoning without -his host, as he found when he tried to approach the subject with his -father. He supposed that he had only to tell the Pasha that the Khanum -Effendi was keeping mademoiselle a prisoner at Sardiyeh for her to be -released immediately; but to his amazement and mortification he was -merely told that it was not so at all--that mademoiselle was taking a -little rest by the doctor’s orders, and could not return to Baghdad -for the present. To be treated like a child in this way was -sufficiently annoying, but it was worse to feel conscious the whole -time that if he only dared to say what he knew, matters would be set -right. But this was impossible. He was afraid to tell his father of -Charlie’s return and death, lest he should get into trouble for his -share in the latter; and he had also a very real fear that M. -Karalampi might revenge himself upon him afterwards, now that he was -so completely in his power. His entreaties that Cecil might be allowed -to rejoin him were thus made in vain, for the Pasha, ignorant of any -reason for her prostrate state, could only attribute it, as the _hakim -bashi_ had done, to an overworked brain and incipient madness. -Complete rest for a short time was the only thing that could be tried; -and the Pasha intended, though he did not tell his son this, to send -the physician again to Sardiyeh in the course of a few weeks, that he -might examine the patient anew, and judge if there were any hope of -her recovery. This being the case, the boy’s constant references to -his governess became rather wearisome to the Pasha, and after several -valiant attempts to press the subject on his father’s attention, Azim -Bey found himself peremptorily silenced, and forbidden to allude to it -again. When they reached Baghdad he was watched over much too closely -to allow of his speaking either to Sir Dugald or Lady Haigh, and thus -his second avenue of escape was closed. The _hakim bashi_ was sent to -the Residency to tell the Balio Bey that Mdlle. Antaza had been ill, -and was spending some time longer in the mountains for rest and -change, and it did not occur to any one that there was anything -strange underlying this apparently straightforward message. - -Any anxiety which was felt at the Residency at this time was entirely -on Charlie’s account. Lady Haigh had not heard from him for months, -and no letters from him to Cecil had passed through Sir Dugald’s -hands. It was supposed, however, that she had written to tell him of -the plan of spending the summer in the hills, and that he had found -some new channel of communication with her by way of Mosul or -Erzeroum, while he was probably so busy at home in having his house -done up that he had no time to write to other people. In this happy -confidence Lady Haigh remained until she received a letter from Mrs -Howard White, who with her husband had spent a few days at the -Residency on her homeward journey from Hillah, and was now in England. -Lady Haigh took up the letter and opened it with somewhat languid -interest, anticipating nothing more than a graceful acknowledgment of -her kind hospitality, and some information as to the light in which -Professor Howard White’s discoveries were regarded by the learned -world. But after a very brief message of thanks, the writer dashed at -once into another subject. - -“... I feel that I must write to you,” she said, “and only hope that -my warning may prove to be unnecessary. It will be news to you to hear -that your cousin, Dr Egerton, was in Hillah just before we left it, -disguised as an Armenian trader. At his earnest request I arranged a -meeting between him and Miss Anstruther in my house, but they had no -private conversation, owing to the presence of Miss Anstruther’s -pupil. It is my impression that the secret remained undiscovered by -Azim Bey, but I cannot be sure of this. Dr Egerton avowed to me the -next day his intention of following, unknown to her, the Pasha’s -caravan, in which Miss Anstruther was travelling, and I was unable to -dissuade him from it. I promised to keep his secret, lest Sir Dugald -should interfere with the scheme, but now that so long a time has -elapsed without any news of him, I feel it only right to tell you all -I know in order that inquiries may be made. I understand that Dr -Egerton has not returned home, and that neither his aunt nor Miss -Anstruther’s family know anything of his movements....” - -Lady Haigh read the letter through with a face of horror, and rushed -with it to Sir Dugald’s office. - -“Read that, Dugald!” she cried, flinging it down before him, “and then -leave those papers and go and see the Pasha at once. You must do it.” - -“H’m,” said Sir Dugald, lifting his eyebrows as he took up the letter; -“the doctor in trouble again, I suppose? Ah!” as he read it, “this is -what Miss Anstruther was afraid of, is it? Poor girl! It might be the -best thing for her that he should disappear;” but he rose, -nevertheless, and began to put away his papers. - -“What a mercy that Cecil is not here!” burst from Lady Haigh. “The -anxiety would kill her. I only hope that she will stay quietly in the -mountains until we hear something certain. Do go, Dugald.” - -Sir Dugald was already starting, and reached the Palace unheralded, -regardless of the etiquette for which he was generally so rigorous a -stickler. The Pasha received him with some trepidation. As soon as his -Excellency was told that the Balio Bey wished to see him, an uneasy -conscience led him to recall uncomfortably a few of his recent acts of -government, and in particular to wonder whether the length of Jamileh -Khanum’s latest dressmaker’s bill, and the means adopted to satisfy -the Parisian firm interested, had become public. He was -proportionately relieved on finding that Sir Dugald’s visit had -nothing to do with any of his own peccadilloes, but concerned only the -English doctor, whose existence, as well as his sudden departure from -Baghdad, the Pasha had forgotten long ago. Little time was needed to -show that his Excellency knew nothing of Dr Egerton’s proceedings or -of his fate. - -“I must ask your Excellency to let Azim Bey be summoned,” said Sir -Dugald, when he had satisfied himself of the Pasha’s innocence. “No -stone must be left unturned to solve this mystery.” - -Azim Bey was sent for, and presently appeared, attended by Masûd. -Glancing from one to the other of the occupants of the room, and -noticing that his father looked perturbed and the Balio Bey stern, he -felt a sudden conviction that the reward of his youthful misdeeds was -at hand. - -“Question my son yourself, my dear Balio,” said the Pasha, in his most -urbane manner; and the culprit, shaking with misgiving, found himself -set down opposite the terrible Balio Bey, who looked at him fixedly -for a moment. - -“Bey,” he said at last, “where is Dr Egerton?” - -Azim Bey’s courage was rapidly oozing away, but he made a brave -attempt to turn the question aside in a sportive and natural manner. - -“How, then?” he asked. “Do you ask me about Dr Egerton, M. le Balio? -Surely it is said that no Englishman can enter the pashalik without -your knowing all about him at once?” - -“In this case it is more to the point that you knew him to be in the -pashalik,” replied Sir Dugald; and Azim Bey, seeing that he had -betrayed himself, looked blank. “I know very well,” continued the -Balio, taking a bold step in his turn, and fixing his eyes on the -boy’s face, “that you saw him in disguise at Hillah and recognised -him, and that you then gave instructions respecting him to some of his -Excellency’s dependents. What were those orders, and where is Dr -Egerton now?” - -Quick as lightning the thought darted into Azim Bey’s head that he had -been betrayed. Not perceiving that what had been said was the result -of a shrewd guess on Sir Dugald’s part, he leaped to the conclusion -that Ishak had been questioned and had implicated him in his answers, -and it seemed to him immediately that the whole plot must be known. - -“He is dead,” he murmured, with hanging head. The effect upon his -auditor made Azim Bey perceive too late that he had again incriminated -himself unnecessarily. - -“Dead!” cried Sir Dugald, in a voice that made the Pasha jump. - -“Yes--Oh, M. le Balio, that was not my fault. I hated him, and I -wanted the Kurds to take him prisoner, and they murdered him. I did -not want him to die--indeed I did not--I did not mean to have him -killed.” - -“But this is impossible!” cried the Pasha. “What could make you hate -this English gentleman, my son?” - -“I hated him because mademoiselle was in love with him,” returned the -boy without hesitation. His father looked scandalised, and Sir Dugald -frowned heavily. - -“There is no need whatever to bring Miss Anstruther’s name into the -conversation,” he said, adding, as he turned to the Pasha, “I cannot -conceive that these are the real facts of the case, your Excellency. -It seems to me that Azim Bey must have been used as a tool by some -enemy of Dr Egerton’s.” - -“But indeed it is not so, M. le Balio,” Azim Bey protested eagerly. -“It was I who hated him, and when mad--I mean when _she_ was angry -with me about him, I spoke to M. Karalampi, and he made the people of -the city hate him, so that he had to leave Baghdad.” - -“Ah!” broke from Sir Dugald, while the Pasha was silent through sheer -astonishment, the minds of both going back to the mysterious events -which had preceded Charlie Egerton’s departure. Sir Dugald recovered -himself first. - -“And Karalampi has been your agent in these last negotiations also, -Bey? I thought so. Your Excellency,” he said to the Pasha, “I must ask -you to have M. Karalampi arrested and brought here at once.” - -“The order shall be sent immediately,” said the Pasha, and he called -Ovannes Effendi from the anteroom. While the necessary directions were -being given, Azim Bey crept close to Sir Dugald. - -“M. le Balio, you will ask my father to let mademoiselle come back -from Sardiyeh now?” he asked, anxiously. - -“Certainly not,” replied Sir Dugald, emphatically. “I am most thankful -to think that Miss Anstruther is out of the way for the present. I -shall not advise her to return until this matter has been inquired -into.” - -“Oh, monsieur, but----” began Azim Bey; but Sir Dugald cut him short, -and took his leave of the Pasha, requesting to be summoned as soon as -M. Karalampi arrived. To Lady Haigh he made as light of the matter as -he could, protesting that in Azim Bey’s case he believed that the wish -for Charlie’s death was father to the thought, but in his own mind he -had very little doubt that the news was true. The mutual dislike of M. -Karalampi and Charlie had not escaped his notice, and he felt that it -was extremely probable that the Greek had taken the opportunity of -carrying out his compact with Azim Bey a little too well. While -waiting for him to be arrested and brought down to Baghdad, Sir Dugald -collected a good deal of information which corroborated the boy’s -account of the intrigue by which Charlie had been driven from his -post, and he awaited the arrival of the prisoner with the comfortable -conviction that there was very nearly evidence enough to hang him -already. But the expected summons to the Palace to confront the -accused did not come, and Sir Dugald grew impatient. At last he went -himself to speak to the Pasha on the subject, but in the anteroom he -was seized upon by Azim Bey. - -“Oh, M. le Balio, you would not come, and I could not go to see you. -He has been here, and my father has let him go again.” - -“Who? Karalampi?” cried Sir Dugald. “Tell me what you mean.” - -They sat down on the divan, and Azim Bey poured his tale into the -Balio’s ear. How M. Karalampi had arrived, all unconscious of the -reason for the summons, from his post in the mountains, and had found -himself accused of plotting Dr Egerton’s murder. How he had protested -his innocence, and had promised to bring proofs of it, if he were -allowed to go back to the mountains with an escort and penetrate into -the Kurdish fastnesses. How the Pasha had demurred to this, but had -yielded on M. Karalampi’s declaring that otherwise he would make a -clean breast of everything to the Balio Bey, and involve Jamileh -Khanum in his disclosures. This was the only card he had to play, but, -thanks to the Pasha’s agonised desire to prevent scandal, it was -successful, and he was allowed to depart, under strict supervision. -Sir Dugald listened with lowering brow, and when the recital was ended -he rose from his seat with a fixed resolve to see the Pasha and thresh -the matter out with him, but Azim Bey was still clinging to his arm. - -“Oh, M. le Balio, bring mademoiselle back. They are keeping her in -prison there at Sardiyeh, and it is only this--the death of Dr -Egerton--that has made her ill.” - -“What? she knows already? and the poor girl is all alone up there!” -cried Sir Dugald, and he strode into the Pasha’s presence with a frown -which made his Excellency tremble. His demand that Cecil should be -sent for was at once granted, and an escort despatched to bring her -from Sardiyeh to Baghdad. But Sir Dugald had been forestalled. The -news of what had been happening had reached the harem, and had caused -a vast amount of commotion there, together with much coming and going -of Mdlle. Katrina, imperfectly disguised in a voluminous sheet, -between her mistress and M. Karalampi, during the short time that he -spent in the city. The result was that an order had been sent to -Sardiyeh, which reached it two days before the Pasha’s. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - A DREAD TRIBUNAL. - -When Jamileh Khanum’s message reached Sardiyeh, it put an end at -once to the tranquil and monotonous life which the two captives had -been leading. They were informed late in the evening, immediately -after the arrival of the courier, that they must prepare to start on a -journey early the next morning, but they sought in vain from their -gaolers for particulars of their destination, and for the reason of -the sudden move. At first they consoled themselves under this -taciturnity by mutual assurances that when they had once started they -would certainly be able to discover at least the general direction of -their march from the features of the country and the course of the -sun; but when the time for the journey came, they found that this -solace was to be denied them. A mule-litter was brought into the -courtyard--not a gorgeous _takhtrevan_ like that in which Jamileh -Khanum queened it at the head of the harem procession, but a far -humbler contrivance--and they were assisted to mount into it. It -consisted simply of two large panniers, or _kajavahs_, suspended one -on either side of a tall and sturdy mule, and surmounted by a high -framework of cane, covered in and curtained all round with thick -haircloth, so that the occupants found themselves in a kind of small -dark tent, with the mule’s back between them as a table. The position -in which they were obliged to remain was an exceedingly cramped and -uncomfortable one, more especially to Cecil, since her pannier had to -be weighted with several large stones in order to balance Um Yusuf’s, -the good woman being much heavier than her mistress. The rough -curtains promised certainly to be useful in keeping out the cold -mountain winds, for it was now winter, and in this highland district -the snow was on the ground, but they would also prevent entirely any -sight of the scenery passed on the road. For the moment, however, they -were left undrawn, while the agas were busy seeing to the loading of -the baggage-mules, and Cecil took a last look through the open doorway -of the court at the white houses of the little town, and at the -frowning mountains beyond, in some cleft of which was Charlie’s -nameless grave. - -“It is like leaving home again, Um Yusuf,” she said, with tears in her -eyes. “I should like to stay here always.” - -Perhaps Um Yusuf, like Lady Haigh, detested sentiment. At any rate, -she disliked the mountains very heartily, and she answered rather -snappishly-- - -“You do no good here, mademoiselle. Once we leave this horrid place, -you get plenty work to do, feel better.” - -Here the agas came and drew close the black curtains, and the mule -started off, led by a stalwart villager, who had been impressed into -the Pasha’s service, and whose guttural remarks to the animal were the -chief sounds that reached the ears of the two captives during the next -fortnight, after which he was allowed to return to his home as best he -might. The journey, which was carried on under such uncomfortable -conditions for Cecil and Um Yusuf, lasted in all sixteen days, during -which time they never obtained an inkling of their destination, -knowing only that their caravan was kept persistently on the march -during the hours of daylight. At night a tent was pitched for them, in -which they found their own mattresses and other baggage; and with -respect to food, they fared as well as did their guards, who exacted -from the peasantry in the Pasha’s name whatever they desired. They -never halted at night until after the sun was set; and whenever in the -early morning they succeeded, as they passed from the tent to the -litter, in obtaining a glimpse of the surrounding scenery, it was -always unfamiliar to both of them. When on the march, it was possible -for them to tell whether the mule was going up or down hill, and also -whether the road traversed was smooth or rough or slippery, but these -changes were far too frequent and bewildering to be any guide as to -the locality. - -When they had journeyed on for about ten days, the prisoners noticed a -great change in their surroundings, much more bustle and conversation -being perceptible about them than before. After much careful -listening, they became aware that their caravan had joined another and -a much larger one, in which women’s voices, all speaking Kurdish, were -distinctly audible. That night they rested at a wayside khan, instead -of in tents; and although a compartment of the building, called by -courtesy a room, was specially reserved for Cecil and her maid, it was -invaded, in the temporary absence of the agas, by several of the -Kurdish ladies, who came to stare at their fellow-travellers. They -seemed to wish to be friendly, but as neither party knew anything of -the other’s language, the only possible approach to communication was -to smile affably at one another and exchange gestures of mutual -goodwill. One of the visitors brought with her her baby, which was -suffering from ophthalmia; and when they were gone, Cecil bethought -her of a little bottle of eye-water among her possessions, and -despatched Um Yusuf after them to offer it to the mother. The -attention seemed to be appreciated, for the chief of the Kurdish -ladies sent them presently, through one of the agas, a dish from her -own supper, and Cecil overlooked the extremely doubtful and untempting -nature of the gift in view of the kindness intended. While she nibbled -daintily at one or two fragments chosen from the mass, and Um Yusuf -ate her way steadily through it, it struck Cecil to ask whether her -maid had found any one among the strangers’ slaves able to speak -Arabic or Turkish. Um Yusuf shook her head, but Cecil, knowing the -marvellous freemasonry of signs by which the servants of different -nationalities were able to carry on whole conversations without -uttering a word, asked whether she had discovered anything about the -Kurdish ladies. - -“They prisoners, like us,” said Um Yusuf, withdrawing her attention -for a moment from the tray of food. “They come from the mountains, but -not know where they go. Chief lady’s husband very great man, but I -think he killed or in prison. Ladies all hate Pasha very much.” - -This was all that the two captives could learn from their companions -in misfortune, but both parties felt some consolation in each other’s -presence. The agas appeared to have no objection to their charges -mingling with the Kurdish ladies, probably considering that little -mischief could be done without the aid of the tongue, and Cecil found -herself installed as consulting physician to her new friends, thanks -to her eye-water, which showed signs of effecting a cure. With other -ailments she was not so successful, owing to the difficulty of -discovering symptoms by the aid of signs alone; but the mountain -ladies held her in prodigious respect, and acquiesced cheerfully in -the keeping for her of the best room every night at the khan, even -going out of their way to do her little kindnesses. Thus the days went -on until one afternoon when Um Yusuf and her mistress, jogging along -in their respective _kajavahs_, heard one of the agas say to the -other-- - -“Go to the leader of the caravan, O Mansûr, and urge him to push on, -that we may reach the city by sunset, for there is a storm coming up.” - -Cecil and Um Yusuf looked across at one another in the twilight of -their moving tent with a sudden tightening of the breath, and their -hands met mechanically in a convulsive clasp. They were nearing a -city, and therefore some change, possibly some crisis, was at hand. It -was with the most strained interest that they observed the mule’s -stately pace quicken gradually, and heard the shouts and blows of the -camel-drivers around them, as they urged on their animals. After a -time there came a pause, in which the shouting and quarrelling that -generally marked the progress of the caravan seemed to grow louder. - -“A block at the gate,” said Cecil in a voice of subdued eagerness, and -presently the caravan moved on again, and the travellers became -conscious of the hum of a great city all around them. But there was -nothing to tell them where they were. The babel of many tongues which -met their ears might belong to almost any city in the East; and the -call of a muezzin, which forced itself upon their hearing from the -minaret of a mosque as they passed along, was as little distinctive. -Immediately afterwards they turned into a stone-paved court, passed -through various doorways and passages, and finally stopped in another -courtyard. One of the agas drew back the curtains, and Cecil, with -beating heart, allowed herself to be helped down, and looked round in -a tumult of anticipation. What she expected to see she could not have -told, but the reality which met her eyes was disappointing. It was -neither familiar nor out of the way, merely the inner court of an -ordinary whitewashed house, which, for all its distinctive -peculiarities, might have been found in any city of South-Western Asia -or Northern Africa. Above was a stormy sky, in which black rolling -clouds were fast obscuring the rays of the setting sun. Standing -beside the mule were the two agas, engaged in giving confidential -directions to a middle-aged negress of a peculiarly stolid and sturdy -type, while Um Yusuf, just helped down from her perch, was sitting on -the ground and groaning out that she had the cramp all over her limbs. -There was no sign of the friendly Kurdish ladies, no trace of any -inhabitants other than their own party in the house. As Cecil realised -this, the agas, having finished their colloquy, led the mule out of -the yard, and the prisoners found themselves left alone with the -negress, who motioned to them silently to follow her. They obeyed -disconsolately enough, and she led them through several passages to a -tiny room with one window high up in the wall. Here she left them, -returning presently to bring in coffee and a dish of food, uncertain -in its nature and by no means captivating in its appearance, and then -departing again. Um Yusuf slipped out immediately, and Cecil divined -that she was going to try her powers of fascination on their guide. -But she returned discouraged. - -“She not tell anything,” she observed, morosely. “Worse than the -Kurds; they not able to talk. There! you hear, mademoiselle? She lock -us in.” - -The grating of the ponderous key in its complicated lock was -distinctly audible, and Cecil resigned herself with a sigh to the hard -fact that it was absolutely impossible to obtain any clue to their -whereabouts that night. When they had partaken of their untempting -repast, Um Yusuf unrolled and spread out the bedding, but the storm -had begun, and the gusts of wind which shook the house were so violent -that neither she nor her mistress felt inclined to sleep. - -“Where are we, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil. Um Yusuf cast up her eyes and -lifted her empty hands to indicate absolute ignorance. - -“Do you think they can have taken us across the mountains to -Sulaminyeh?” pursued Cecil, putting into words a fear which had begun -to haunt her. - -“Yes, mademoiselle, that what I think,” returned Um Yusuf. - -Cecil was silent, listening to the patter and swish of the storm, and -the fall of the plaster from the ceiling. The wind moaned and howled, -and seemed to be almost strong enough to tear the house from its -foundations, while over all there came a loud rushing sound, now close -at hand, now farther off, like that of water lashed into fury by a -tempest. She did not recognise it at first, but it occurred to her -suddenly what it was. - -“Listen!” she said to Um Yusuf, glad of any pretext for doubting the -dreadful suggestion which she had herself made. “I am sure I hear the -sound of waves washing up against the walls. The house must be on the -river somewhere. Can we be at Mohammerah?” - -“No, mademoiselle; we not passed the marshes, and journey not long -enough. I think this Sulaminyeh. Why not river there?” - -Cecil shuddered. To be imprisoned in the heart of Kurdistan, many long -miles away from any English or even European official, with no one to -whom to appeal for protection or justice, was not a comfortable -prospect. She said no more to Um Yusuf, and at last, as they sat side -by side upon their mattresses, she dropped asleep, lulled by the -howling of the wind. After what seemed only a few minutes, though she -knew later that it must have been some hours, she awoke with a start, -to find that it was broad daylight, and that Um Yusuf was standing -beside her with an excited face. - -“Mademoiselle, we in the plains again, not at Sulaminyeh. That storm -not rain at all, dust-storm. I think this place Mosul. When dust fall -about in the night, I think it only stuff off walls, but now I look, -see it all thick on everything. You see this?” - -Cecil sat up, and gazed in bewilderment at the handful of dust and -sand which Um Yusuf had gathered up as a precious treasure. Then she -recognised the maid’s allusion to the dust-storms peculiar to the -Euphrates Valley, and conceived for the handful of dust an affection -akin to that which Noah must have felt for the olive-leaf brought him -by the dove. The fact that everything in the room was covered with -gritty sand, and that it had made its way into her hair and clothes, -was not worthy of notice in view of this discovery, and she and Um -Yusuf made a rather difficult toilet with thankful hearts. They -breakfasted on the remains of their last night’s supper, which had -fortunately been covered up and had thus escaped the dust, and -immediately afterwards the unattractive negress who had been their -guide the night before unlocked the door and came in with a great -bundle in her arms. - -“It is commanded thee to put on these clothes, O my mistress,” she -said in Arabic, dumping down the bundle before Cecil, and retiring -forthwith. - -Much mystified, Cecil helped Um Yusuf to undo the bundle, and drew out -of it one of the long loose gowns with square-cut neck and wide -hanging sleeves, worn by Turkish ladies of the old school. It was of -blue silk interwoven with silver threads, and to wear with it there -was a vest or chemisette of delicate straw-coloured gauze, and a round -velvet cap decorated with silver coins. The two women gazed at one -another in astonishment as they unfolded the garments and smoothed -them out. - -“What does it mean, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil, almost in a whisper. - -“It look to me like wedding-dress, mademoiselle,” responded Um Yusuf, -in the same awed tones. “Perhaps you going to be married.” - -“That is absurd, Um Yusuf,” said Cecil, with unusual sharpness. “But I -won’t put it on, at any rate.” - -Presently the negress returned, and after a glance of surprise at the -neglected finery, informed Cecil that the great ladies commanded her -attendance. - -“What ladies?” asked Cecil. - -To her amazement the woman replied-- - -“The Um-ul-Pasha and the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi.” This was Jamileh -Khanum’s official title. - -Cecil’s spirits rose with a bound. Here, at any rate, were foemen -worthy of her steel, which was certainly not the case with the agas, -who could only answer, “Khanum Effendi’s orders,” to all -remonstrances, and she sprang up to follow the negress with keen -anticipations of a coming struggle. - -“Perhaps they are come to Mosul for Azim Bey’s wedding with Safieh -Khanum,” she whispered to Um Yusuf; but the good woman shook her head -in perplexity. - -“Azim Bey not to be married until he seventeen,” she began, but just -then their guide drew back a curtain and ushered them into the -presence of the great ladies. Cecil had made up her mind what to do. -The moment she observed that neither of the ladies made any reply or -return to her salaam and salutation, she sat down at once without -waiting to be invited, regardless of the contrast afforded by her -travel-stained blue wrapper and yellow slippers to the wadded and -fur-trimmed pelisse and trousers of green satin which formed the -winter dress of the Um-ul-Pasha, or to Jamileh Khanum’s Parisian -morning-robe of petunia velvet, with its front of costly lace. The -ladies sat at the upper end of the room, facing her, the Um-ul-Pasha -in the seat of honour in the corner of the divan, her daughter-in-law -beside her. At a respectful distance sat Mdlle. Katrina, palpitating -with eagerness. To this excellent woman conspiracy was the very breath -of life. She would have plotted against herself cheerfully if she -could by any means have imported sufficient mystery into the -proceedings, and she had been the Um-ul-Pasha’s go-between with the -outer world throughout her long series of plots. At her mistress’s -command she now set to work to interpret her words to Cecil without -further parley. - -“Why have you not put on the clothes I sent you, mademoiselle?” was -the first question. - -“Because they are not suited to my circumstances,” Cecil replied at -once. “I am a stranger and a prisoner, and the clothes seem to be -intended for a festival.” - -“What has that to do with you?” asked the Um-ul-Pasha. “Do you wish to -scorn my gifts, mademoiselle?” - -“Certainly not, your Excellency,” responded Cecil, politely. “I only -wish to be sure that there are no conditions attaching to them.” - -“Mademoiselle, your tone is unsuitable. Know then, that now that your -term of service in the household of my son, the Pasha, has expired, I -have determined to provide suitably for you, and I have found you a -husband, who is willing to take you on my recommendation. And let me -tell you, mademoiselle, that without my recommendation you would have -had little chance indeed of obtaining a husband at all.” - -“I am extremely grateful for the Um-ul-Pasha’s kind intentions, but I -must respectfully decline her offer,” said Cecil. - -“And why, pray?” demanded the old lady, through her interpreter. “Your -betrothed husband is dead, so what obstacle is there?” - -“Dr Egerton may be dead,” returned Cecil, her eyes filling with tears -at this rough mention of her loss, “but that does not alter my -feelings towards him. My heart is his still, and I will not marry any -one else.” - -“But we will make you,” cried Jamileh Khanum. - -“You ought to know, Khanum, that a British subject cannot be legally -married out here except under the British flag,” said Cecil, somewhat -more calmly. - -“Bah! who is to know or care whether the marriage is legal or not?” -demanded Jamileh Khanum, contemptuously. - -“There is a British vice-consul in Mosul, and I will appeal to him,” -said Cecil, her colour rising angrily. The affair was becoming -absurdly and irritatingly melodramatic, and she found it difficult to -keep her own part of the conversation to the everyday level that she -felt was safest. - -“You speak like a fool,” said the Um-ul-Pasha. “As yet, praise be to -God! our harems are sacred from the infidel. We will give out that you -are a Yezidi captive, and the Frangis cannot touch you.” - -“That will not help you,” said Cecil, as coolly as she could. “Do you -think for a moment that when the bride’s proxies came to demand my -consent to the marriage, anything would make me give it?” - -“Yes,” said Jamileh Khanum. “We could force you to give it.” - -“Could you?” said Cecil, very quietly. “Perhaps you would like to -try?” - -She looked so absolutely undaunted as she sat facing them, every nerve -on the stretch with excitement, a red spot burning on either cheek, -that her opponents felt an uncomfortable sensation of approaching -defeat. Was it possible that the Frangi woman was going to defy them -after all? They had thought of her as a gentle, timid creature, -amenable to the slightest pressure after the troubles she had gone -through, but the reality was disappointing. The intended victim had -risen to the occasion, and was ready to fight to the last, and the two -ladies on the divan turned from her and began a hasty conversation, -most of which was perfectly audible to Cecil. Indeed, but for the sake -of the Um-ul-Pasha’s dignity, which she conceived made it derogatory -to her to speak directly to the infidel, the interpreter would have -been unnecessary throughout. - -“What are we to do? This will spoil everything,” said the Um-ul-Pasha. - -“Starve her, break her spirit!” cried Jamileh Khanum. - -“But there is no time,” objected the Um-ul-Pasha. “Whatever we do must -be done at once. Let us send for Azim Bey, and bid him devise a plan -to set things right.” - -“Never!” cried Jamileh Khanum, fiercely. “What! shall that young -Shaitan laugh at my son’s beard?” This was a bold figure of speech, -for little Najib Bey was barely two years old. “Let us send the Frangi -woman a cup of coffee.” - -“Art thou mad?” cried the Um-ul-Pasha, aghast at the sinister -suggestion. “Are we not yet deep enough in disgrace with my son, and -shall we bring the wrath of the Balio Bey upon our heads as well? I -tell thee this is our only chance. The boy has a wise head, and for -the sake of his family will devise some scheme by which our credit may -be saved and all set right.” - -“Do as thou wilt,” said Jamileh Khanum; “I will have no hand in it,” -and she rose and swept from the room, flinging a curse at Cecil as she -went. Presently the Um-ul-Pasha and Mdlle. Katrina followed her out, -and Cecil and Um Yusuf were left alone, waiting in breathless -expectancy. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - PRACTICAL JOKES. - -It seemed a very long time that the two prisoners waited alone, and -it was indeed long enough for the momentary excitement to pass away, -and for Cecil to realise how very little she had to support her, in -spite of her valiant words, beyond her innate British pluck and a -determination not to be bullied. Um Yusuf was not a comforting -companion. She passed the time in giving utterance to doleful -prognostications, covering most of the contingencies which could -reasonably be expected to occur under the circumstances, and ending up -with-- - -“Yes, mademoiselle, this quite fixed in my mind. Not you nor I shall -eat one morsel nor drink one drop more in this house.” - -“Well,” said Cecil, with a half-hearted attempt to turn the affair -into a joke, “if we must choose between being starved and poisoned, Um -Yusuf, I think the poisoning would be less painful in the end. It -would certainly be quicker.” - -Um Yusuf gave a contemptuous sniff at her mistress’s flippancy, and -they waited in silence, until there was a sound of hurrying footsteps -in the passage. Then the curtain was pulled aside, and Azim Bey darted -in, radiant with smiles, while behind him appeared the faithful -Masûd, grinning from ear to ear. - -“Oh, mademoiselle, my dear mademoiselle!” cried the boy, rushing to -kiss Cecil’s hand. “They have brought you back at last, then? But you -have been ill--they have ill-treated you? Ah! they shall pay for it. -But all is right now.” - -“Not all, Bey,” said Cecil, grieved that he should so soon have -forgotten the tragedy of the Kurdish hills, but he was too much -excited to listen. - -“Come, mademoiselle, don’t stay in this wretched place. You will trust -yourself in the _kajavahs_ once more, if I ride by the side of the -mule? There is a ridiculous formality to go through, and I want to get -it over. My grandmother has promised you in marriage to a certain man, -and he will not accept his dismissal from any lips but your own. That -will not take long to do, will it, mademoiselle?” - -“Certainly not,” said Cecil, astonished at this sudden development of -affairs, and smiling down at her pupil as he led her out. But at the -door he stopped and looked her over with a dissatisfied face. - -“Mademoiselle, your clothes are so old, so dusty. Have they taken away -your other dresses?” - -“I really have nothing but what I have on,” said Cecil, lightly. “Our -luggage seems to have gone astray. It doesn’t signify much, though, -does it?” - -“But it does, mademoiselle,” returned Azim Bey, with deep seriousness. -“I cannot bear that this man should see you so poorly dressed. You -have to speak to him, you know.” - -“Well,” said Cecil, “the Um-ul-Pasha sent me a dress this morning -which I refused to touch. If you like, I will put it on, though it -scarcely seems fair to wear the dress she meant for a wedding to -refuse the bridegroom in. What do you think?” - -“Oh, mademoiselle, it is excellent. Do go and put it on at once. I -will wait, only do make haste. I am dancing with excitement.” - -Cecil went away smiling to the room where she had passed the night, -and with Um Yusuf’s help no time was lost in putting on the rejected -dress. Over all came the great white sheet in which it had been -wrapped, replacing the old blue wrapper, and Cecil returned to her -pupil, who, if not actually dancing, was certainly fidgeting with -impatience. - -“At last, mademoiselle! Oh, come, come.” - -“But where are we going, Bey?” asked Cecil. - -“To the Palace, of course, mademoiselle. Where else should we go?” - -“But isn’t this Mosul?” she cried. Azim Bey laughed uproariously. - -“But, mademoiselle, it is Baghdad--our own beautiful Baghdad.” - -“But the people all talked Kurdish,” gasped Cecil. - -“Because you came down from the mountains with the harem of Khalil -Khan, the Kurdish chief, who is to remain here as a hostage for his -tribe, mademoiselle.” - -“But where are they now?” - -“In the rooms at the other side of this house, mademoiselle. The -Um-ul-Pasha arranged that you should be lodged quite alone this last -night.” - -A flood of further questions was trembling on Cecil’s lips, but the -courtyard had now been reached, and the mule-litter was waiting. Cecil -and Um Yusuf were helped into their accustomed seats, to carry on -during the ride an incoherent conversation, marked by bursts of -enlightenment as fresh confirmations of Azim Bey’s words occurred to -them. Arrived at their destination, the Bey met them again, and -seizing Cecil’s hand as soon as she had dismounted, hurried her -through rooms and passages in breathless haste. - -“Oh, by the bye, mademoiselle,” he said, as they entered the house, -“it was the Um-ul-Pasha’s special wish that I should tell you that the -gentleman you are going to see is the one she meant you to marry.” - -“So I understood,” said Cecil, much perplexed. - -“Oh, well, you can believe it or not, as you like, mademoiselle.” - -“Bey, what do you mean?” demanded Cecil, pausing to look back and see -whether Um Yusuf was following. “Why shouldn’t I believe it when you -told me so yourself?” - -“Oh, never mind, mademoiselle, only come. It is all right now--all -right,” he repeated. “My heart is almost bursting, I am so happy.” - -“But why?” asked Cecil. - -“I can’t help it, mademoiselle, I scarcely know what to do. Now draw -your veil close, we are coming to the _selamlik_. Dear mademoiselle,” -and he stopped suddenly, “you have quite forgiven me--you are -sure--for _his_ death?” - -“Dear boy, why do you remind me of this just now?” asked Cecil, the -tears rising to her eyes once more. “I have forgiven you, long ago.” - -“I knew it, mademoiselle, but I wanted to hear you say it again. Go -into that room,” and Azim Bey dashed off with something like a sob. - -Sorely puzzled, Cecil advanced in the direction he indicated, and drew -aside the curtain over the doorway. Through the mist of her tears she -saw a gaunt, dark-bearded man, wearing the regulation frock-coat and -fez, standing with his back to her and looking out of the window. - -“An Armenian!” she said to herself, perceiving at once the unwelcome -suitor whom she was to put out of his misery. “Monsieur----” - -The man turned round, and Cecil stood awestruck and speechless. Had -that rocky grave in the mountains of Kurdistan given up its dead? She -dropped the curtain, and staggered blindly across the floor with -outstretched hands. - -“_Charlie?_” she gasped, tremblingly. - -The room was reeling with her, but strong arms caught her as she -nearly fell, and the voice she had thought never to hear again was in -her ears. - -“Cecil, my own darling, look at me. Don’t cry so dreadfully--it breaks -my heart. Have I frightened you so much?” - -“They told me you were dead,” she murmured, when she could still the -long-drawn sobs which broke from her in the stress of that first -recognition. - -“And they told me you were going to marry another fellow,” he -retorted, quickly, “but I never believed it. Still, I never thought I -should see you again, my dearest girl.” - -“But Hanna saw you killed--at least he saw you dead.” - -“I don’t know how he managed it,” said Charlie, in his driest tones. - -“Nor do I,” cried Cecil, with a burst of hysterical laughter. “But you -must have been wounded, Charlie. You could never have been thrown down -that cliff without being hurt. Besides, he saw you.” - -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Charlie. “Have you and Hanna been -concocting horrors between you? Don’t you believe now that I am -alive?” - -“But I have seen it,” persisted Cecil, “over and over again.” - -“Oh, this is hopeless,” said Charlie. “Leave it alone for the present, -my darling, and let us puzzle it out afterwards. Taking it for granted -that I am alive, are you glad to see me?” - -“Glad? Oh, Charlie!” Cecil’s tone was answer enough. - -“Let me look at you, dear,” she said, after a blissful pause, and -raising her head from his shoulder she scanned his face. Very thin, -very bright-eyed, very weather-beaten, it was the face of the old -Charlie still, but there seemed to her to be in it a strength and a -purpose which it had lacked in former days. - -“And you, Cecil? You have been ill, I’m certain. Been crying over me, -thinking I was dead, poor little girl?” and he kissed her tenderly. - -“Oh, what do I signify?” she cried. “Tell me about yourself, Charlie. -Where have you been?” - -“In the hills, slave to an old brute of a Kurd named Ismail Khan Beg. -They didn’t treat me badly at first, except that they took away my own -clothes and gave me some of their old ones to wear. When a Kurd has -done with his things, Cecil, I can tell you they are rags and -something more--ugh! Well, they got rather fond of me, because I -doctored them a little, and so on; but it didn’t do me much good after -all, for old Ismail took it into his head to offer to adopt me as his -heir, if I would become a Mohammedan and join the tribe. There was a -giddy pinnacle of success for you, Cecil! but I didn’t mount it, and -they all turned rusty. The less said about the last few months the -better----” - -“My dear brave boy,” murmured Cecil. - -“Well, one day a messenger came from the Pasha demanding that I should -be given up to him. It sounded rather like a death-sentence, -remembering the circumstances under which I left Baghdad, but anything -was better than the life I was leading, so I came away in durance -vile. I was brought down here under a very strong guard, with that -fiend Karalampi at the head of it. It was he who told me that lie -about you, and of course I didn’t believe it, but when you cried so on -seeing me I couldn’t tell what to think. Then I was put in prison -here, but this morning they fetched me out and gave me fresh clothes -and let me have a bath. I know now just how Joseph felt when he was -taken out of prison and brought before the king, though Ahmed Khémi -in an awful funk isn’t exactly regal.” - -“Take care. There’s some one coming,” said Cecil, moving hastily to -the window, away from Charlie. - -“Who cares?” he asked, following her immediately, just as the curtain -at the doorway was drawn aside, and M. Karalampi appeared, escorting -Lady Haigh. - -“I have the happiness of bringing about a family reunion, M. le -docteur,” observed the Greek to Charlie, as Cecil and her friend -rushed into each other’s arms. Charlie shrugged his shoulders. In this -moment of happiness he could afford to disregard even M. Karalampi, -provided he did not make himself too objectionable. - -“And now, Cecil darling,” pursued Lady Haigh, when she had bestowed a -sounding embrace and a burst of tears on Charlie, “come back with me.” - -“But am I not to stay here?” asked Cecil in amazement. - -“Not unless you wish to become an inmate of the harem for the space of -your natural life,” said Lady Haigh. “Why, my dear child, Christmas is -over, and your engagement here is terminated. I suppose you will soon -be homeward bound, but I must have you for a little while at the -Residency first.” - -“Allow me to have the felicity of escorting Mdlle. Antaza,” said M. -Karalampi, as Lady Haigh turned to descend to the courtyard. He -offered his arm to Cecil, but Charlie was before him. - -“Thank you, but you shall not come between us again,” he said, and M. -Karalampi was fain to practise his chivalry on Lady Haigh. - - * * * * * * * - -Cecil’s stay at the Residency proved to be an eventful one. Lady Haigh -and Charlie put their heads together, and the results of their -consultation presented themselves in the form of two incompatible -propositions--namely, that it was absolutely necessary that an escort -should be found for Cecil throughout her long journey back to England, -but that there was no prospect that any member of the English colony -would be returning home just at present. The net conclusion of these -contradictory premisses was a self-evident truth, which, as Cecil -said, gave the crown to the bad logic of the whole proceeding. The -only thing to be done was that she and Charlie should be married at -Baghdad, and consider the voyage home in the light of a honeymoon -trip. To every one else this seemed a most fitting solution of the -difficulty, and Cecil acquiesced in it with a submissiveness which -would have astonished herself a year or two before. - -“It is not fair of you to take me by surprise in this way now, -Charlie, after all that has happened,” she said. “My pride is broken, -and I don’t mind confessing that I couldn’t part with you again.” - -This accommodating spirit was hailed as altogether satisfactory by -Lady Haigh, although she took occasion in private to admonish Cecil -not to make Charlie proud by letting him think that she could not do -without him. This advice was supported by many apposite illustrations, -but Cecil laughed in her sleeve, and contrasted Lady Haigh’s preaching -with her practice, for when she and Sir Dugald were separated, she -could think and speak of little beside him. But having done her duty -and relieved her conscience, the elder lady turned with a glad heart -to the making of preparations for the wedding. Of course the ceremony -was to be performed by Dr Yehudi, and Sir Dugald consented, under -protest, to give away the bride. - -“I disapprove of the whole affair,” he said to Charlie, “and I cannot -see why I should be obliged to seem to give my sanction to it. If Miss -Anstruther did me the honour to ask my advice even now, I should feel -bound to advise her to throw you over, but she hasn’t. At any rate, -since she is foolish enough to take you, I have had to give up the -opinion I once held of her good sense.” - -“Your bark was always worse than your bite, Sir Dugald,” laughed -Charlie, who had had time to arrive at this conclusion now that he was -no longer on an official footing with the Balio Bey. And indeed Sir -Dugald gave himself infinite trouble in disentangling and setting -right the complicated affairs of the pair, although when he was at -home he entreated his wife to keep those two out of his sight, for -they looked so absurdly happy he could not stand it. - -“You will be pleased to know,” he said, coming into the Residency -verandah one day after a lengthy interview with the Pasha at the -Palace, “that all you have gone through is nothing but a series of -practical jokes.” - -“Very practical jokes indeed!” said Charlie, growing rather red, while -Cecil, glancing up into Sir Dugald’s impenetrable eyes, saw his -eyebrows twitching at the corners. - -“Oh, Sir Dugald, you are joking!” she cried. - -“Not at all,” said Sir Dugald, sitting down in a long wicker chair and -stretching himself luxuriously; “the joke is all on the side of the -Pasha’s household, I assure you. Egerton’s leaving Baghdad was a joke -of Azim Bey’s; so was his capture by the Kurds. His pretended death, -your imprisonment, Miss Anstruther, and the attempt to marry you off -to some native, were little jokes of the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi’s, got -up in pure lightness of heart, just to relieve the monotony of harem -existence. The Um-ul-Pasha shares in the family tastes, so she -co-operated with her Excellency, and Karalampi acted as a kind of -master of the revels, humouring the rest by lending his experience to -make their play more real.” - -“I can’t make out that business about the native,” said Charlie, -meditatively. “We are evidently meant to understand that he was a -myth, and that the Um-ul-Pasha intended all along to play the part of -a fairy godmother, and bring us together again. Is it so?” - -“Not a bit,” said Sir Dugald. “The fellow was a flesh-and-blood -reality. I believe he is some relation to the Levantine woman who has -done all the Um-ul-Pasha’s dirty work in this business.” - -“Mdlle. Katrina’s nephew!” cried Cecil, in mingled astonishment and -disgust. - -“Yes, the plan was very complete,” said Sir Dugald. “And it was -splendidly managed!” he cried, with the admiration of an accomplished -artist for the masterpiece of a fellow-craftsman. “The way all the -parts dovetail into one another is so good. Why, if it had not been -for that utterly unexpected letter from Mrs Howard White, we might -never have been the wiser! Just think of it, Miss Anstruther. There -was Egerton up in the mountains, unable to escape or to communicate -with me. There were you at Sardiyeh, miles away from Egerton in -reality, and practically much more, since your gaolers were Turks and -his Kurds. Still, you would have been pretty sure to have made -inquiries and discovered where he was, and to have found some way of -communicating with him, as long as you thought he was alive, so you -had to believe him dead. That, again, was excellently done. To dress -up some dead body in Egerton’s clothes, pitch it over the cliff, and -show it to Hanna as his master’s, was very good, but it was still -better to let him escape and tell his tale, and best of all to secure -him and put him in safe keeping as soon as it was done. That disposed -of both of you, besides working off Karalampi’s little grudges. He -felt quite safe, for he had Azim Bey’s authority for a good deal, and -he knew that he would not dare to say anything about it.” - -“But what was the good of it all?” said Charlie. “It seems rather -aimless--so much trouble without any very important result.” - -“Ah, you forget the part of the plot which failed,” said Sir Dugald, -quickly. “It may be rather lowering to your self-esteem, but you must -remember that you two Europeans were not the chief persons aimed at. -The Um-ul-Pasha and the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi had their end in view, -and that was to get rid of Azim Bey; to get rid of you and Miss -Anstruther was only a means of attaining that end. Everything went -well as far as that. You were out of the way, and that gave them the -opportunity of keeping Miss Anstruther out of the way too. Azim Bey -was left unprotected. Then came the unlooked-for blow which spoiled -the scheme--the Pasha’s leaving Karalampi behind with the Mutesalim. -The Kitchuk Khanum Effendi completed the ruin of the plot, and when -once we had had Mrs White’s letter, and begun to make inquiries, they -had to patch things up as best they could. Miss Anstruther was to be -married off and taken out of the way; and as for you, Egerton, I think -you would have disappeared mysteriously as soon as you set foot -outside the Palace, which would have saved them a good deal of -trouble.” - -“And you are really going to let them carry it all off as a joke?” -asked Cecil, indignantly. - -“Well,” said Sir Dugald, “I have pointed out to the Pasha the fact -that the peculiar sense of humour inherent in his family is -inconveniently strong and must be checked, and he has promised to see -to it.” - -“But what does it all mean?” inquired Cecil, in bewilderment. - -“It simply means that the Pasha is bound to hush the matter up at any -cost, and that this is the only way in which he can make a show of -accounting for the circumstances. Of course he has to pay for it, but -he prefers that to embroiling himself with Tahir Pasha, the Khanum -Effendi’s father, or with the Hajar, and creating a fearful scandal in -the city. I have made sure, Miss Anstruther, that your salary is not -to be docked on account of your alleged illness, and you are to -receive the _bakhshish_ agreed upon from the beginning. Your maid, and -Egerton and his servant, are all to receive compensation, of course on -the understood condition that they hold their tongues about what has -taken place.” - -“But is the Pasha to pay it all?” asked Cecil. “Surely that isn’t -fair?” - -“It is not poetical justice, I grant you, especially since Karalampi -retires to his native Smyrna with a handsome sum of hush-money in his -pocket. But it puts it in a better light when you consider that if the -Pasha had never employed Karalampi, he would never have had to pay. -Or, to go back to first principles, it would have been the same if he -had been content with one wife, or even with having had three, and had -not married the Khanum Effendi, or if, having married her, he had kept -her in better order. As for her, she has done for her son’s chance of -inheriting any but a very small share of his father’s property, and -brought herself very near a divorce, and that ought to keep her quiet -for the future. Then she and her mother-in-law have quarrelled -violently, and the Um-ul-Pasha has cursed Najib Bey, and taken Azim -Bey into favour, which is also satisfactory. By the bye, that pupil of -yours is a queer little specimen, Miss Anstruther.” - -“He is very happy just now in having realised an old ambition,” said -Cecil, laughing. “He has been both the villain and the _deus ex -machinâ_ of the story.” - -“Well, there’s no accounting for tastes,” said Sir Dugald, -sententiously. “Ambitions are queer things. Egerton’s is to set things -right generally, I believe. I hope you realise, Miss Anstruther, that -you are in for a hornets’ nest at home? Egerton will go about hunting -up abuses and attacking vested interests until you are universally -hated, and even think with envy of us sweltering out here. Still, -better at home than in Baghdad. There may be a niche for faddists in -England, but in the East we want men who can pull together.” - -“And in your view that covers a multitude of sins?” said Cecil. “No, -Sir Dugald, I am not going to begin an argument. I know that when you -and I argue it only leads to our each being more firmly convinced of -the truth of our respective opinions than before. But I am sorry, for -one thing, that we are going to live at home. I used to like to think -that we might settle down here, and Charlie could start a medical -mission to help Dr Yehudi’s work.” - -“Poor old Yehudi! I think I should have been obliged to interfere to -protect him,” said Sir Dugald. “He would have had the mob pulling the -Mission-house about his ears in a week. No; for the sake of the -Mission, and of the unoffending missionaries, I am sure we may be -thankful that Egerton’s past record effectually prevents his settling -in Baghdad.” - -“Well,” said Cecil, with a little sigh, “I think I am learning not to -try and plan my life beforehand, but to take it as it comes. Nothing -has ever happened yet as I have expected it.” - -“I should not have suspected you of being a disenchanted cynic,” said -Sir Dugald, as he rose, but Cecil looked up at him in surprise. - -“But I am not complaining,” she said. “What I meant was that I thought -I was beginning to see how much better it was that it should be so, -because we can’t tell what is before us. Why, when we left Sardiyeh, I -felt so miserable that I told Um Yusuf that I should like to stay -there always. She said that was only foolishness, but it was what I -really felt, and just think what I should have missed if I had been -able to do as I liked! And at the very beginning, too, before I came -out here at all, if my life had been as I planned it, I should have -been teaching the children at home still, and I should never have left -England--nor met Charlie.” - -“And that would have been a loss?” asked Sir Dugald. - -Cecil gave him a glance of pity and reproach. - -“A very great loss,” she said. - - THE END. - - - - - FOOTNOTES. - - [01] - Emineh this name, the feminine form of Emin or Amin, is the Amina of - the earlier translations of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ Khanum means lady. - - [02] - Baghdad is not now a station of the London Society for Promoting - Christianity among the Jews. The Church Missionary Society has a - medical mission there. - - [03] - Jamileh this name is also spelt Gemila, Djamilé, and Jameelie. The - last form gives the pronunciation. - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. - -This book is part of the author’s “Modern East” series. The full -series, in order, being: - - The Flag of the Adventurer - Two Strong Men - The Advanced-Guard - His Excellency’s English Governess - Peace With Honour - The Warden of the Marches - -The last line on page 308 is missing, leaving the sentence “If the -Pasha were here, I would go straight to” unfinished. I have marked -this lacuna in the text. This flaw (as well as those below) is also -present in the 1896 and 1902 Blackwood (UK) editions. If you can -provide the missing text from an authoritative source please contact -Project Gutenberg support. - -Alterations to the text: - -A few minor punctuation corrections--mostly involving the pairing of -quotation marks. - -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. - -[Title Page] - -Add brief note indicating this novel’s position in the series. See -above. - -[Footnotes] - -Relabel footnote markers, collect footnotes at end of text, and add -an entry to the TOC. - -[Chapter III] - -Change “mingled Turkish, Circassian, and _Egyptain_ blood” to -_Egyptian_. - -[Chapter VII] - -“they were conducted to a _minature_ courtyard” to _miniature_. - -[Chapter IX] - -“Much _suprised_ that the Pasha should pay” to _surprised_. - -[Chapter XVI] - -“he was at first _ininclined_ to admire” to _inclined_. - -[Chapter XVII] - -“observation of Sir Dugald and Captain _Rossitter_” to _Rossiter_. - -[Chapter XXII] - -“while a brisk _fusilade_ from the summit” to _fusillade_. - -[Chapter XXVI] - -“Um Yusuf shook her head but Cecil, knowing the...” add comma after -_head_. - -[Chapter XXVII] - -“the _ceremomy_ was to be performed by Dr Yehudi” to _ceremony_. - - [End of Text] - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS EXCELLENCY'S ENGLISH -GOVERNESS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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Grier - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* Headers and Divisions */ - h1, h2, h3 {margin:2em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} - - div.tp {text-align:center;} /* title page */ - - .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} - - /* center a block of text */ - div.quote_o {font-size:95%; margin:0.5em 2em 0.5em 2em; text-align:center;} - div.quote_i {display:inline-block; text-align:left;} - -/* General */ - - body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} - - p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:2em;} - p.center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.noindent {text-indent:0em;} - p.sign2 {margin:0em 2em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} - p.spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.end {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - - p.toc_1 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:left; text-indent:0em;} - p.toc_2 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:justify; text-indent:0em;} - - div.letter {padding:1em 0em 1em 3em;} - - span.font80 {font-size:80%;} - - span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} - - span.chap_sub {font-size:80%;} - -/* play/poetry indented verses */ - p.i0 {margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i1 {margin:0em 0em 0em 3em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i2 {margin:0em 0em 0em 4em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i3 {margin:0em 0em 0em 5em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i4 {margin:0em 0em 0em 6em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i5 {margin:0em 0em 0em 7em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i6 {margin:0em 0em 0em 8em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i7 {margin:0em 0em 0em 9em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i8 {margin:0em 0em 0em 10em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i9 {margin:0em 0em 0em 11em; text-indent:-2em;} - p.i10 {margin:0em 0em 0em 12em; text-indent:-2em;} - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of His Excellency's English Governess, by Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: His Excellency's English Governess</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 23, 2021 [eBook #66115]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS EXCELLENCY'S ENGLISH GOVERNESS ***</div> - -<div class="tp"> -<h1> -His Excellency’s English<br/> -Governess -</h1> - - -By<br/> -SYDNEY C. GRIER -<br/> -<span class="font80">AUTHOR OF “A CROWNED QUEEN,”<br/> -“LIKE ANOTHER HELEN,” “THE<br/> -WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,” Etc.</span> - -<br/><br/> -(<i>Fourth in the Modern East series</i>) - -<br/><br/><br/> -BOSTON<br/> -L. C. PAGE & COMPANY<br/> -<i>MDCCCCII</i> -</div> - - -<h2> -COPYRIGHT. -</h2> - -<p class="center"> -<i>Copyright, 1902</i><br/> -By L. C. Page & Company<br/> -(<span class="sc">Incorporated</span>) -</p> - -<p><br/><br/></p> - -<p class="center"> -Published June, 1902 -</p> - - -<h2> -CONTENTS. -</h2> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch01">I. A GIRL GRADUATE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch02">II. “THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch03">III. A MOST ADVANTAGEOUS OFFER</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch04">IV. THE SHINING EAST</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch05">V. A NEW EXPERIENCE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch06">VI. A PERIOD OF PROBATION</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch07">VII. “IN INMOST BAGDAT”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch08">VIII. A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch09">IX. LITERATURE AND POLITICS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch10">X. A CUP OF COFFEE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch11">XI. A DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch12">XII. IN SEARCH OF HEALTH</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch13">XIII. INSTRUCTION AND INTROSPECTION</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch14">XIV. A SPOKE IN HIS WHEEL</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch15">XV. AFTER ALL——</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch16">XVI. A MURDEROUS INTENT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch17">XVII. AN IDYLL, AND ITS ENDING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch18">XVIII. GATHERING CLOUDS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch19">XIX. “BETWIXT MY LOVE AND ME”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch20">XX. INTERCEPTED LETTERS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch21">XXI. CONFEDERATES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch22">XXII. A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch23">XXIII. THE END OF EVERYTHING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch24">XXIV. PRISONERS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch25">XXV. “THE VOICE OF ENGLAND IN THE EAST”</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch26">XXVI. A DREAD TRIBUNAL</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch27">XXVII. PRACTICAL JOKES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#fn">FOOTNOTES</a> -</p> - - -<h2> -HIS EXCELLENCY’S ENGLISH<br/> -GOVERNESS -</h2> - -<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> -CHAPTER I.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A GIRL GRADUATE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was Presentation-day at the University of London. The date was -somewhere in the latter half of the present century,—not this year, -nor last year, nor the year before that, when you, dear reader, or -your brother or cousin, may have graced the scene in cap and gown—but -so long ago that the graduates and undergraduates of to-day were still -in the nursery taking practical lessons as to the value of tactual -perception, or forcing an undesired entrance into the realms of -knowledge by way of the spelling-book and the Latin Primer. The day -was a lovely one in May, and the spring sunshine poured in through the -high windows of the theatre on the Chancellor in his Court suit and -gold-embroidered gown, on the members of the Senate in their crimson -and scarlet robes, and on the reporters scribbling away for dear life -at their table. There was the usual throng of admiring friends and -relations in the gallery and the back seats, and the usual inner -semicircle of presentees, looking like a bed of gorgeous and not -always harmonious flowers, from the vivid colours of their gowns and -hoods. A modern observer would have noted only one point of marked -difference from a similar scene to-day, and this was the absence of -the serried ranks of lady graduates. There were only two or three -women to be presented, and they looked pale and nervous, but -dauntlessly resolved to do their duty to the end. In those days it was -an achievement to gain possession of a London degree, and these girls -felt that the eyes of England and of the world were upon them. They -were conscious also of furnishing the sensation of the day, for a -woman had obtained the prize for French in the B.A. Final, and the -second place in Honours for Mental and Moral Science, for the first -time on record, and the friends of female education were jubilant. -Miss Arbuthnot, the principal of the South Central High School, in -which Cecil Anstruther had received her education, looked fully two -inches taller than usual as she led her pupil up to the Chancellor’s -dais, and the little knot of friends and teachers in the gallery -applauded frantically, while even the men who had been ignominiously -left behind in the race were magnanimous enough to do their share of -clapping. The parliamentary representative of the University referred -especially to Miss Anstruther in his regulation speech, and the noble -Chancellor himself pressed her hand and congratulated her with even -more than his ordinary paternal suavity of manner. As for Cecil’s own -feelings, she was so much embarrassed by the cheering, the publicity, -and the difficulty of carrying her cap, her diploma, and her prize, -and finding a hand to give the Chancellor at the same time, that she -did not breathe freely until she was safely back in her seat, with her -companions in misfortune eagerly inspecting her new possessions. -</p> - -<p> -A little later, and the grand function was over. The Chancellor and -the members of the Senate had filed off solemnly, like the chorus of a -Greek play, the reporters had closed their note-books and decamped -with much less ceremony, and the theatre was deserted, save by a few -presentees who were displaying their medals and diplomas to impatient -friends. Cecil paused at the door on her way to the robing-room with -Miss Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m quite sorry to say good-bye to the dear old place,” she said; “I -have been here for the Matriculation, the Intermediate, and the B.A., -and now again to-day, and I know the pattern of the ceiling and all -the mouldings on the walls by heart.” -</p> - -<p> -“I only wish you would come here again for the M.A. and the D.Lit.,” -said Miss Arbuthnot. “That is my one sorrow with regard to you, Cecil, -that you are ending your academical course at this point.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, you see, I have really no choice,” said Cecil. “The children at -home are getting older, and I must either teach them myself or earn -money to help with their education. And you know, Miss Arbuthnot, I do -so much dread going among strangers, and I want to stay at home if I -possibly can. If I could have got a post in the School, of course——” -</p> - -<p> -“That would not be good enough,” replied Miss Arbuthnot with decision. -“Public opinion has yet to be roused on the subject of High School -teachers’ salaries. No, Cecil, what I should like for you would be -something quite different. As for teaching your little brothers and -sisters, I believe it is a task at once beyond and beneath your -powers. You are much better fitted to instruct older children, and you -are not at all suited to cope with very naughty ones, such as I -understand them to be. I can’t prophesy success for you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what could I do?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“I think you should try for a post as finishing governess in some good -family, where you would be properly treated,” said Miss Arbuthnot. -“Abroad, perhaps; I believe the Russians treat their governesses very -well. You are not a specialist, Cecil—that is another thing I regret, -you would have gained the University scholarship for Mental and Moral -Science if you had been—but you are good all round. Well, we mustn’t -stay talking here. I will see you to Victoria, and then I must hurry -back to the School. Only remember, if you do not succeed with the -children, let me know. I am often asked to recommend thoroughly -first-class governesses, and I will do my best for you, dear child.” -</p> - -<p> -Miss Arbuthnot’s voice trembled a little as she concluded, for she had -grown very fond of her head pupil, and honestly believed that she -could have done anything she liked in the way of passing examinations. -It had been a great pleasure to the elder lady to have this ardent -young disciple always at hand, to sympathise with her plans and to -become imbued with her views, nor was Miss Arbuthnot at all unmindful -of the honour reflected on the School by the girl’s success. The cause -of female education in general, and the South Central High School in -particular, were the objects to which Miss Arbuthnot’s life was -devoted, and the cause gained no small lustre from the ovation Cecil -had received at the Presentation, and the comments which had been made -thereon in the various speeches, and which might be looked for from -the Press. -</p> - -<p> -The principal’s expectations in this respect were not disappointed. -The London dailies remarked on Cecil’s success in a style -half-flattering, half-contemptuous, and at greater or less length -according to their interest in the subject, and the country papers -took up the strain, and carried it on in their several ways. In -particular, the ‘Whitcliffe Argus,’ the chief organ of Cecil’s native -place, devoted nearly half a column to setting forth, rather late in -the day, in a dialect of journalese peculiarly its own, the honours -gained by the “daughter of our esteemed fellow-townsman the much -respected Vicar of St Barnabas’.” The paper was pounced upon, and the -paragraph read aloud in a stentorian voice by one of Cecil’s younger -brothers, a particularly rampant specimen of that troublesome race, -when the ‘Argus’ was delivered at St Barnabas’ Vicarage. No subject -had been further from Cecil’s mind as she sat at the head of the -dinner-table, with flushed cheeks and rather dishevelled hair, and a -worried look which contrasted sadly with the hopeful aspect she had -worn when she bade farewell to Miss Arbuthnot little more than a month -before. Mrs Anstruther was away on a visit, and to Cecil had fallen a -task sufficient to appal the stoutest heart, that of keeping in order -the seven small half-brothers and sisters who sat round the table, and -whom no one but their own genial, boisterous Irish mother had ever -succeeded in managing. -</p> - -<p> -The Anstruther children were the terror of Whitcliffe. Their mother -said that they had excellent hearts, and this was very possibly true, -but it was also painfully evident that they had no manners, and a very -small amount of conscience. Add to this the possession of tremendous -animal spirits, splendid lungs, and most inventive brains, and it will -be seen that the life of a conscientious elder sister, who held -pronounced views of her own on the subject of education, was not -likely to be an easy one among them. Of all those who tried to govern -them Cecil was perhaps the least successful, for she was gentle, -methodical, and somewhat old-maidish in her ways, and each of these -tendencies militated strongly against her. She got on very well with -Mrs Anstruther (indeed, no one who knew that stout, untidy little -lady, with her blue-grey eyes and her soft, drawling brogue, could do -otherwise), and loved her almost as much as if she had been her own -mother, but the children did not take to her. Even now, after a -morning spent in wild efforts to clear away the things they left -about, undo the mischief they had done, and efface generally the -traces of their baleful existence, she could not eat her dinner in -peace. Patsy was spilling his pudding on the carpet, Loey feeding the -cat from his plate, and when Cecil leaned across the table to rescue -Eily’s glass of water from imminent peril of destruction, Terry seized -the opportunity of pulling out all her hair-pins. And all this time -Fitz was roaring out the paragraph from the ‘Argus’ in his loudest -tones. -</p> - -<p> -“Fitzgerald!” came in a stern voice from the lower end of the table, -where sat Mr Anstruther, with a book propped up against the dish in -front of him; “don’t make that noise. Why don’t you keep the children -quiet, Cecil? My dear!” and Mr Anstruther’s eye-glasses went slowly -up, to be focussed on Cecil’s dishevelled tresses, “what have you been -doing to your hair? It is in a most disgraceful state. What is all -this row about?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, daddy,” cried Loey, otherwise Owen, “it’s what we’ll do with -Cissie’s money we’re talking about.” -</p> - -<p> -“You will do nothing with it,” returned Mr Anstruther, severely, for -the point was rather a sore one with him. “Your sister will spend the -money as she likes, without consulting a set of little dunces like -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, papa, but I mean to do something for them,” cried Cecil. “I have -been so glad ever since I heard I had got the prize to think that I -should be able to help you with it. The money will pay the boys’ fees -for one term, or help with their books, at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are very good, my dear child, in wishing to be of use, but what -can fifteen pounds do towards educating four boys, who have not brains -enough among them all to get a ten-pound scholarship, nor steadiness -and sense of honour enough to go to and from the Grammar-School like -gentlemen? What with their school-fees, and the bills I have to pay -for the damage they do, it needs a millionaire to look after them.” -</p> - -<p> -And Mr Anstruther rose abruptly from his seat, said grace, and -departed to his study. It was a constant disappointment to him that -only his eldest daughter had inherited his own scholarly tastes, and -that his younger children, although dowered with their mother’s -splendid bodily health, had inherited also her distaste for steady -mental work. Sometimes the disparity made him a little unjust to -Cecil, as if his disappointment were her fault, and the sense of this -struck her to-day so keenly that, worn-out and discouraged, she pushed -back her chair from the table and burst into tears. The children stood -around in impotent alarm; then, their consciences no doubt pricking -them, one after another crept softly from the room. For a little while -Cecil sobbed hopelessly; then a sudden resolution came to her, and she -started up. Miss Arbuthnot’s words had returned to her memory, and she -saw that if she could not be useful with the children at home, she -might at any rate help to provide the money necessary to give them the -education they so greatly needed. With ferocious haste she twisted her -soft auburn hair into a rough knot, secured it by sticking in the pins -in handfuls, and dashed away the tears from her brown eyes, now -blurred and piteous with crying. Without giving herself time to -repent, she sat down at the writing-table in the window, and began to -write. The chair and table shook with her sobs as she did so, but she -scrambled through her letter as fast as she could, sealed and stamped -it, and then, snatching up her hat, rushed across the road to the -pillar-box with the important missive, determined not to trust any of -the boys. -</p> - -<p> -All this afternoon Cecil, to use Biblical language, “went softly in -the bitterness of her soul,” for the step she had just taken marked -the downfall of many hopes. Throughout her school career, which had -cost her father very little, owing to the number of prizes and -scholarships she had won, her aim had been to make use of her -knowledge in instructing her half-brothers and sisters. Recollections -of past failure in holiday-times had not deterred her from setting to -work again with enthusiasm, but after rather less than a month’s trial -she was compelled to admit that the result was unsatisfactory. She -knew that under ordinary circumstances she was an interesting teacher -and a good disciplinarian,—experience in teaching classes at the -South Central School had assured her of this,—and she had not -reckoned on the opposing influence which was to render all her efforts -nugatory. The children were the only subject on which Mrs Anstruther -and Cecil were gravely divided in opinion, but on this one point they -differed exceedingly. Mrs Anstruther insisted that Cecil was trying to -break the children’s spirits, and she made it her business to rescue -them from this untoward fate on every possible occasion. Derided by -her pupils and unsupported by their mother, her rules set aside, and -her punishments continually remitted, it is little wonder that Cecil -decided to give up the contest in despair. There seemed to be -something in her that aroused all the wickedness of which the children -were capable; and only this morning a final touch had been put to her -misery by a remark of her father’s, to the effect that he wished Cecil -would leave her brothers and sisters alone, for they were always far -worse with her than with any one else. That Mr Anstruther should say -this was the most unkindest cut of all, and Cecil felt that her last -support in the home was gone. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning, just as breakfast was over at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, -great excitement was caused among the children by the sight of a -telegraph-boy coming up to the house. Six of them met him at the door, -and conveyed the missive in triumph to Cecil, to whom it was -addressed, offering meanwhile various suggestions as to the nature of -the contents. It was with some difficulty that she succeeded in -rescuing the envelope untorn, and in acquainting herself with the -message. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">M. Arbuthnot to C. Anstruther.</span> -</p> - -<p> -“Come to me at once for two or three days. Have heard of something for -you.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -Cecil read the words in astonishment, with all the children dancing -and yelling round her like wild Indians. They were still in the hall, -and Cecil was too much engrossed by the telegram to try to calm them, -until the study door opened, and her father’s tired face looked out. -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Cecil,” he began, “I think, when you know I am preparing my -sermon, you might——” But his voice was drowned by the children. -</p> - -<p> -“Daddy, Cissie’s got a telegram. We wouldn’t go to school until she -would tell us what it was. She’s going to London, isn’t she?” -</p> - -<p> -“What does all this mean, Cecil?” asked Mr Anstruther, wearily, and -his daughter put the telegram into his hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” he said, when he had read it, “you have asked Miss Arbuthnot -to find you a situation, I suppose? After all, perhaps it is the best -thing you can do.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you must let me help with the boys then, papa,” said Cecil, -eagerly. “I think I am pretty sure to get a good salary, you know, and -I can take one of them, at any rate, off your hands.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, my dear. It is impossible not to feel grateful for such a -proposal. Patrick, leave off teasing that cat, and go to school with -your brothers. If you can get your things ready for the 11.55 train, -Cecil, I will walk down to the station with you.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil dashed up-stairs, and spent the next hour in wild efforts to get -her box packed, which was a work of difficulty, with Eily, Norah, and -Geraldine standing around, advising, touching, criticising, meddling -in a way that nearly drove her mad. Happily Mrs Anstruther was to -return before lunch, and she therefore felt less compunction than she -would otherwise have done in leaving her flock to their own devices. -By dint of superhuman exertion she managed to be ready by the -appointed time, and kissed the children all round, admonished them not -to quarrel, rushed into the nursery to remind the nurse to put on -their clean pinafores before their mother’s return, and gave hasty -parting directions about lunch to the cook. Then there was a hurried -walk down to the station, in which she endeavoured vainly to keep up -with her father’s long strides, and a brief farewell on the platform. -Cecil shook hands with Mr Anstruther (he had an invincible objection -to being kissed in public, principally owing to the fact that his wife -and younger children were especially given to the practice), and he -put her into a ladies’ carriage just as the train was about to start. -</p> - -<p> -Leaning back in her place, Cecil spent her time during the journey in -speculations as to the situation found for her. Was she to be -principal of some newly-founded High School, where the extent and -freshness of her acquirements would counterbalance the defects of her -youth and comparative inexperience? Or was she to be governess in a -private family, possibly on the Continent, possibly in some stately -English home, where she would be treated with frigid courtesy, and -shunned and criticised as a “learned lady”? She sighed as she revolved -these possibilities in her mind, and wished once more that she might -have remained at home. But regrets were vain, the train was nearing -Victoria, and on the platform stood Miss Arbuthnot, to whom Mr -Anstruther had telegraphed from Whitcliffe that Cecil was on her way. -</p> - -<p> -“I am glad you have come at once, Cecil,” she said, as they left the -station in a cab, “for I can give you a rare treat for to-night. What -do you think of tickets for both of us for the Conversazione at -Burlington House, to meet all the great people?” -</p> - -<p> -“How splendid!” cried Cecil, with sparkling eyes. “And the situation, -Miss Arbuthnot?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh—ah—the situation. Of course that is the chief thing, after all. -Well, you and I are to meet the lady and gentleman at Daridge’s Hotel -to-morrow, and lunch with them afterwards.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, then it is a private family?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Private? Oh, well—yes. Not a school at all.” -</p> - -<p> -Miss Arbuthnot seemed not to wish to say anything more, but presently -she began to question Cecil as to her dress for the evening, betraying -a solicitude as to her appearance which surprised the girl. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course, I ought to have told you to bring your best evening gown,” -she said, “but I never thought of it, and it would have been rather -awkward to mention it in a telegram. What have you? the black velvet -with your mother’s lace? It is rather old for you, but after all that -is no drawback. You see, Cecil,” smiling at her pupil’s puzzled face, -“we are all very proud of you. You have done the School great credit, -and I should not wonder if you were to find yourself a little bit of a -celebrity in a small way to-night. So you see why I want you to look -well, that you may uphold the honour of the South Central.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch02"> -CHAPTER II.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">“THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT.”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Miss Arbuthnot’s</span> well-meant solicitude had the effect of making -Cecil very nervous as the evening approached, and at last she actually -entreated to be allowed to stay behind at the School and spend a quiet -hour or two with the governesses, instead of going to Burlington -House. But Miss Arbuthnot would not hear of this, and insisted on -supervising her dressing personally, almost hustling her into the -carriage at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, my dear, nonsense!” she said, vigorously, when they were -fairly started. “You really must get rid of this foolish timidity, or -you will be fit for nothing. I should have been seriously displeased -if you had not come. Not only would it have been very rude, for it is -a great favour to get a ticket, but there are several people I want -you to see, a very old friend of mine for one. You have heard me speak -of Elma Wargrave?” -</p> - -<p> -“One of the pioneers?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -In Miss Arbuthnot’s circle the early workers in the cause of female -education were always designated by this respectful term. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I see you know whom I mean. She and I were great friends when we -were girls, and we had almost decided to start school-keeping -together. She was most enthusiastic about it, and used to talk of the -joy of devoting her whole life absolutely to the great work. But, -unfortunately, she went to stay with some relations, and while with -them she fell in with a young Scotch soldier, Sir Dugald Haigh. He was -ridiculously poor, for his father had spent everything he could lay -his hands on, and mortgaged the estates, so that Sir Dugald had -scarcely more than his Artillery pay upon which to support an empty -title and two people. But Elma married him and went out to India at -once, and she has travelled about with him ever since in all sorts of -outlandish places and horrible climates. I believe they have been very -happy, and Sir Dugald is high in the Service, and has lately been made -Consul-General and political agent at Baghdad, so I suppose they are -not pinched any longer now. I don’t grudge them their happiness, my -dear,” added Miss Arbuthnot, slowly, “but I have never been able to -help regretting that Elma should have given up such a work for the -sake of that very ordinary little man.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am quite anxious to see them,” said Cecil. “Is Sir Dugald in -England as well as Lady Haigh?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, she is here alone. Some trouble broke out in the country just as -they were starting, and Sir Dugald would not take his furlough. But -here we are. Now, my dear child, forget yourself, and think of the -people you will see.” -</p> - -<p> -In spite of this excellent advice, Cecil still felt very nervous when -they had laid aside their wraps and she was following Miss Arbuthnot’s -sweeping satin train up the steps and into the crowded and brightly -lighted rooms of the Academy. She did not know that she made a very -pretty picture herself, with her fresh colouring and coils of bright -hair set off by the black velvet dress, with its deep cuffs and -standing collar of old lace, but Miss Arbuthnot perceived this and -rejoiced to know it, not caring at all that her own plain, sensible -face, adorned with the inevitable <i>pince-nez</i>, formed an excellent -foil for Cecil’s girlish charms. -</p> - -<p> -At first Cecil wanted to stand aside in some quiet corner, and watch -the throng of noted people moving about, and learn all their names, -but Miss Arbuthnot was a celebrity herself, and was, moreover, a woman -of many acquaintances, who had all some kind or complimentary word for -her young companion, when they recognised her or heard who she was. -Still, it seemed to Cecil that her friend was watching anxiously for -some one who had not yet appeared, and that she was manifestly -relieved when a stout elderly lady, chiefly remarkable for the -possession of a very prominent set of teeth, made her way through the -crowd and joined them, greeting Miss Arbuthnot with effusion, and -turning an expansive smile on Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“And this must be our young friend the lady graduate,” she said, -looking at her kindly. “You must introduce us, Marian. I should like a -talk with Miss Anstruther.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cecil,” said Miss Arbuthnot, rather nervously, “I want to introduce -you to Lady Haigh. We were speaking about her just now.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was nothing loth to make acquaintance with the lady who had -given up so much for the sake of her young Scotch soldier, and whose -defection Miss Arbuthnot still mourned so bitterly, and she acquiesced -at once when Lady Haigh suggested that they should retire to a quiet -palm-shaded seat among the statuary, and have a chat, while Miss -Arbuthnot was taken possession of by a distinguished cleric who had -also been one of the pioneers of the education movement. Lady Haigh -proved to be as kind as she looked, and showed herself very much -interested in Cecil’s career. She asked as many questions as though -she wanted to write her biography, and asked them, too, as if she were -really interested in the answers, and not asking merely for -politeness’ sake. Then she inquired all about the girl’s home -circumstances, and learned all that Cecil would tell her about Mr and -Mrs Anstruther and the rest of the family at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, -and then she changed the subject of the conversation abruptly, and -began to talk about her own doings in Baghdad. It seemed to be a -fairly pleasant life on the whole, and Lady Haigh showed herself by no -means desirous of underrating its attractions. -</p> - -<p> -“You see, my dear, although it is dreadfully decayed since the days of -the Khalifs and the ‘Arabian Nights,’ yet it is a very interesting -place still. The society is really not bad, for there are nearly -always travellers or officers of some sort passing through, and they -all come to the Residency. Then the assistant political agent comes up -sometimes from Basra, and of course there are clerks and secretaries, -but they are mostly Armenians or East Indians. There is generally a -gunboat in the river, too, and when it is lying off the Residency we -are really quite gay. Then there are the officials at the other -consulates, but socially speaking, and between you and me, they are -rather a dull set. But there are a few of the Jews and Armenians in -the place who are travelled and cultivated people, and quite friends -of ours. Then, of course, it is very interesting when you get to know -some of the Turkish ladies, and it is curious to study the mixture of -nationalities in such a place as Baghdad. I often say that it reminds -me of nothing so much as of Nuremberg or one of those German cities of -the Middle Ages, at the time of their annual fairs.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should love to see it,” said Cecil, drawing a long breath, “but I -shall never be able to afford an Eastern trip until I am quite old. -When the boys are all off my hands, I mean to save up, so that I can -travel about wherever I like when I am an ancient spinster. It would -scarcely do for me to go out now and set up a girls’ High School under -the shadow of the Residency, would it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Scarcely,” laughed Lady Haigh; “and I am afraid, too, you would -hardly get pupils enough to make it pay, except possibly among the -Greeks and Armenians. The Turkish ladies are kept very closely -secluded, and although the Pasha is very anxious to do what he can to -introduce European customs, yet he is not even backed up by his own -harem.” -</p> - -<p> -“It must feel like being in the ‘Arabian Nights’ to live in Baghdad,” -said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Wouldn’t you like to find out something about it from one of the -natives?” asked Lady Haigh, indicating a tall, olive-complexioned -gentleman a short distance off, clad in irreproachable evening-dress -and a fez cap. “That is Denarien Bey, an Armenian gentleman whose -family has lived in Baghdad for many generations. He is in England at -present on some business for the Pasha, and would be delighted to tell -you anything you wanted to know.” -</p> - -<p> -She beckoned with her fan, and Denarien Bey came forward with much -alacrity. He bowed very politely when he was introduced, but Cecil -fancied that she saw a start of dismay when he caught her name. She -assured herself afterwards, however, that it must have been only -fancy, for he was most attentive, answered all her questions about -Baghdad, and escorted her to the buffet and catered for her as -punctiliously as any Englishman. At last he took her back to Miss -Arbuthnot, and the strange, delightful evening was over. Cecil passed -the sleeping hours of that night in a wild whirl, in which visions of -Baghdad in the golden prime of good Haroun-al-Raschid were peopled -with the gorgeous throngs she had seen at Burlington House, and the -President’s bow and hand-shake had some occult connection with the -black eyes and hooked nose of Denarien Bey, and with the diamonds and -Indian embroidery of the “Mother of Teeth,” as her Armenian friend had -informed her that Lady Haigh was called in Baghdad. Towards morning -she had a less extravagant dream, relating to the foundation of the -High School she had laughingly proposed, and including the appearance -of his Excellency Ahmed Khémi, Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, in full -uniform and blazing with orders, to give away the prizes at the end of -the first term. From this delightful vision Cecil was roused by a -visit from Miss Arbuthnot, who came to her room to see whether she had -overslept herself, and again displayed considerable interest in -ascertaining what dress she intended to wear. -</p> - -<p> -Breakfast over, and Miss Arbuthnot’s modest victoria at the door to -convey Cecil to meet her fate, the principal grew nervous again. Cecil -was far more collected than she was, and got together her testimonials -and certificates with a calmness which was extremely creditable. At -last they were ready to start, and, after what seemed a miraculously -short drive, arrived at Daridge’s Hotel. Cecil’s courage was beginning -to fail her now, and she felt her limbs trembling as she followed Miss -Arbuthnot into the hall, and thence up the wide staircase, preceded by -a peculiarly gorgeous domestic in livery. Presently this individual -opened a door on one side of a lofty corridor, and ushered them into -a room filled with gentlemen. Cecil caught Miss Arbuthnot’s arm. -</p> - -<p> -“This can’t be the right room. He’s taking us into a committee meeting -by mistake,” she whispered. -</p> - -<p> -“No, my dear, it is all right,” said Miss Arbuthnot, and marched on -undauntedly, Cecil following, and experiencing something of the -feeling which must have actuated Childe Roland when he came to the -Dark Tower. -</p> - -<p> -The gentlemen rose as they entered, and one of them, in whom Cecil -recognised her last night’s acquaintance, Denarien Bey, came to shake -hands; while, to complete her mystification, she caught sight of Lady -Haigh smiling and nodding at her from the other side of a long table. -Denarien Bey placed chairs for the new arrivals—a proceeding which -reminded Cecil forcibly of the words sometimes met with in the reports -of trials, “the prisoner at the bar was accommodated with a -seat,”—and then returned to his place, so that Cecil had time to look -about her. -</p> - -<p> -There were some eight or nine gentlemen present, the chief of whom -seemed to be a grey-haired man at the end of the table. His face was -in some way familiar to Cecil, but it was not at first that she -remembered that she had seen him in close attendance on the Turkish -Ambassador on his way to some State function. Next to him, on either -side, sat Lady Haigh and Denarien Bey, and then came several -vivacious, dark-eyed gentlemen in fezzes, who talked among themselves -with a great deal of gesticulation, and seemed to bear a kind of -national likeness to the Armenian envoy. Somewhat apart from the rest -sat a stout elderly Englishman, with a stolid and unconvinced -expression, and a general air of being present to keep other people -from being imposed upon. There was also a secretary—a slim, -dark-skinned youth in spectacles, who scribbled notes in a large -clasped book, when he was not nibbling his pen and staring at Cecil; -and lastly, at the very end of the table, Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot -themselves. Cecil was in a hopeless state of amazement and -mystification, feeling, moreover, a terrible inclination to giggle on -finding herself the cynosure of all the eyes in the room. What could -it all mean? Was it possible that Ahmed Khémi Pasha, who was said to -be fond of European innovations, was going to found a High School in -Baghdad? and was she to take charge of it? But no; Miss Arbuthnot had -said that the situation was to be in a private family. What could be -going to happen? -</p> - -<p> -There was a little low-toned conversation between the two gentlemen at -the head of the table, and then Denarien Bey spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“We have heard, mademoiselle, that you are willing to accept a -situation as governess out of England—a course seldom adopted by -young ladies of your high attainments. This suggested to her -ladyship,” he bowed to Lady Haigh, “and myself the idea that you might -be found the proper person to undertake a charge of a very delicate -and important nature. Before saying more, I must impress upon you that -all that passes here is in strict confidence, whether the result of -this interview is satisfactory or the reverse.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil bowed, and he went on— -</p> - -<p> -“I think I shall scarcely be committing an indiscretion if I mention -in the present company that his Excellency Ahmed Khémi Pasha, whom I -have the honour to represent here, intends to make his third son, Azim -Shams-ed-Din Bey, his heir. A cause may be found for this in the -unsatisfactory character of his Excellency’s eldest son; and there are -also other family reasons which render it imperative. His Excellency -has always felt a profound admiration for the English people, and this -has of late so much increased that he is anxious to secure an English -governess for the Bey, who is now about ten years old. As I was about -to visit England, his Excellency thought fit to confide to me the duty -of finding a lady with suitable qualifications who would be willing to -accept the post, and I, feeling the charge too heavy for me, even with -the kind and experienced help of her ladyship, have taken the -precaution of associating with myself my good friend Tussûn Bey,” -here he bowed to the old gentleman at the head of the table, “and -these other kind friends.” -</p> - -<p> -There was another interlude of bowing, and Denarien Bey continued— -</p> - -<p> -“The special qualifications which his Excellency desired me to seek in -the lady who is to have the charge of his son are these: she must be -capable of carrying on and completing the Bey’s education in all but -strictly military subjects; she must be young and—and—well, not -disagreeable-looking, that the Bey may feel inclined to learn from -her; she must be discreet and not given to making mischief; and she -must have been trained in the best methods of teaching. May I trouble -you, mademoiselle, to bring your testimonials to this end of the -table?” -</p> - -<p> -Somewhat surprised, Cecil rose and carried her bundle of papers to -him, while the other gentlemen all turned round on their chairs to -look at her, apparently to ascertain whether she fulfilled the second -condition satisfactorily. -</p> - -<p> -“I think, gentlemen,” said Tussûn Bey in French, “that if -Mademoiselle Antaza”—he made a bold attempt at the unmanageable -name—“finds herself able to accept the situation, his Excellency will -be much gratified by her appearance. She is thoroughly English.” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Vraiment anglaise!</i>” ran down the table, as all the gentlemen gazed -critically at the tall slight figure in the severely simple tweed -dress and cloth jacket, with the small close hat and short veil -crowning the smooth hair. Cecil returned blushing to her place, while -Denarien Bey explained to his assessors the purport of the various -testimonials; and the secretary, finding Miss Arbuthnot’s eye upon -him, made copious notes. After a time the papers were all returned to -Denarien Bey, the gentlemen making remarks upon them in two or three -strange-sounding dialects; and after receiving a paper from the -secretary, the Pasha’s representative proceeded to explain the terms -which were offered. -</p> - -<p> -The salary proposed was a large one, but the Pasha was anxious that -his son’s course of study should be uninterrupted, and it was -therefore his endeavour to secure for it an unbroken period of five -years by the following plan. Cecil was to sign an agreement, if her -services were engaged, to serve for two years, and on the expiration -of this term she could, if she was willing, at once sign another bond -to remain three years more, after which she was to be entitled to a -large extra bonus in consideration of her labours in conducting Azim -Bey’s education to a successful close. If Cecil broke the agreement, -she was to forfeit the salary for all but the time she had actually -served; but if it was broken by the Pasha for any cause excepting her -misconduct, the balance was to be paid to her. By the end of the five -years Azim Bey would be fifteen, and old enough to be emancipated from -female control, and Cecil might return to her own country after an -uninterrupted absence of five years. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s heart sank as she listened. When she heard the amount of the -salary offered, she had eagerly calculated what she could do for the -boys with it, and the mention of the bonus raised high hopes in her -heart, until she realised the conditions under which alone it was to -be gained. Actually to expatriate herself for five whole years! Never -to see England, or her father, or cheerful little Mrs Anstruther, or -any of those dear dreadful children for five years! It was too -appalling. She was on the point of rising and refusing the situation -point-blank, but she found that Denarien Bey was speaking again. -</p> - -<p> -“You will take until the day after to-morrow to consider this, -mademoiselle. I will peruse carefully your testimonials, if you will -be good enough to leave them with me; and if they prove satisfactory, -as I have no doubt will be the case, and you decide to accept the -terms offered by his Excellency, Lady Haigh’s return to Baghdad to -rejoin her husband will afford an excellent opportunity for your -journey thither. This proposal comes from her ladyship herself, and I -do not doubt that you will rejoice to avail yourself of it. I would -remind you that there is no obligation upon you, when you have served -for two years, to sign the further bond for three years more, although -his Excellency is anxious to secure this, and offers such a handsome -present with the view of obtaining it. I thank you for your presence -here to-day, mademoiselle, and will not trouble you any further.” -</p> - -<p> -The whole assembly rose and bowed as Cecil and Miss Arbuthnot passed -out, Lady Haigh following them closely. -</p> - -<p> -“Come to my sitting-room,” she said; “you are going to lunch with me, -you know. Denarien Bey will be coming in as soon as he has got rid of -his friends, and then we can pick his brains to some purpose.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch03"> -CHAPTER III.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A MOST ADVANTAGEOUS OFFER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Come</span> in, come in,” said Lady Haigh, hospitably, leading the way -into her sitting-room. “Well, Cecil, my dear (for I really must call -you so), were you very much astonished at the sight of that formidable -array? Wasn’t it just like Denarien Bey to make such a tremendous -business of it? I suppose it’s his nature to like to have a great fuss -about everything.” -</p> - -<p> -“But hadn’t the Pasha appointed the council of selection?” asked Miss -Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it,” laughed Lady Haigh. “Of course, for one thing, -Denarien Bey was in a terrible fright. If Cecil turned out -unsatisfactory, or if he bungled the business in any way, he might -lose his head. So he gets together as many people as he can with whom -to share the responsibility, so that he can put the blame on them if -anything goes wrong, while some of them are too strong for the Pasha -to touch, and the others are out of his reach. But it was simply a -desire to make a great business of the matter which made him drag poor -old Tussûn Bey here from the Embassy.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; I could not quite see what he had to do with it,” said Miss -Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, my dear Marian,” cried Lady Haigh, “he is the Pasha’s agent in -the Embassy. Of course it is not called so. We say that he is -‘connected with the Pasha by old ties of friendship,’ but that only -means that he is in his pay. He is originally and officially an -ordinary secretary of Embassy; but his private and particular business -is to watch over the Pasha’s interests, and warn him of any danger -from his enemies here, either in the Embassy or in our own -Government.” -</p> - -<p> -“And all the other gentlemen, who were they?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“The Easterns were various Levantines and Armenians settled in London, -also devoted to the Pasha’s interests. Some of them are in his pay, -and some of them pay him. Of course what he gives them is called -remuneration for services performed, and what they give him is called -a present, or a tribute of respect, or something of that sort.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Elma!” said Miss Arbuthnot, “I had no idea of the network of -corruption into which you were leading us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Corruption?” said Lady Haigh. “You might call it corruption in -England, but for Ahmed Khémi Pasha it is really only self-defence. He -knows that he is surrounded by spies and people who are longing to see -him make a false step, and then report it at Constantinople, poor man! -Of course I don’t defend his methods; I only say that from his point -of view he has some excuse for them. His position is frightfully -insecure. And that reminds me, you noticed the Englishman who watched -over our conference just now?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” said Miss Arbuthnot and Cecil together. -</p> - -<p> -“That was Mr Skrine, the Pasha’s banker, with whom Denarien Bey is -staying. It is said that Ahmed Khémi invested £50,000 with him only -last year, as a precaution, of course, in case he should be obliged to -take flight.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what is he afraid of?” asked Cecil; “has he done anything?” -</p> - -<p> -“He has not committed any crime, if that is what you mean—not what is -considered a crime in the East, at any rate. But he has committed the -offence of existing, and of being the Pasha-Governor of Baghdad, and -that alone makes him innumerable enemies. His reforms and his -innovations have made him a good many more, and so the poor man has -need of all the friends he can get to counteract their influence.” -</p> - -<p> -“But can he trust Denarien Bey? Isn’t he an enemy?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Denarien Bey stands or falls with Ahmed Khémi Pasha, as things are -at present. He is too deeply committed to his cause to be able to -dissociate himself from it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he is an Armenian,” objected Cecil, “and I thought the Armenians -hated the Turks?” -</p> - -<p> -“Theoretically, all Armenians hate and despise all Turks, and the -Turks return the compliment with interest,” said Lady Haigh, “but -practically they often find each other very useful. I daresay that -Denarien Bey in his foolish moments, and when he is quite sure there -are no spies about, talks of independence, and glorifies Holy Russia -as the protector of the enslaved. But in everyday life he remembers -that he is not a patriot hiding in the hills, with a long gun and a -few rags for all his possessions, but a prosperous citizen, with a -wife and family to support, and a reputation to keep up. I don’t know -what might happen if a revolution really came, and seemed very likely -to be successful. I fancy that Denarien Bey would find political -salvation then; but for anything short of that, I think he will stick -to the Pasha.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Haigh, don’t you believe in any one?” Cecil’s tone was one of -absolute dismay, and Lady Haigh laughed pleasantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Not in many Armenians, dear, at any rate—or many Easterns, for that -matter. I will give you a warning, Cecil. If you wish to keep your -faith in human nature, don’t marry a consul-general in the East. When -you have knocked about as much as I have, you will know what I mean. -Of course there are exceptions. Ah! here is Denarien Bey at last. Now -we can have lunch, and a really interesting talk.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was still suffering under the shock caused by Lady Haigh’s want -of faith in oriental human nature, and she was very silent at first. -But the other two ladies kept up a brisk conversation with Denarien -Bey, and presently she became interested against her will. -</p> - -<p> -“Of what nation is the Pasha?” she asked at last, when the rest had -been discussing the various reforms which his Excellency had lately -introduced. -</p> - -<p> -“It is very difficult to say,” replied Denarien Bey, meditatively. “I -should think it probable that he has mingled Turkish, Circassian, and -Egyptian blood in his veins. Nothing is known of his antecedents, but -in Turkey we care little about that. When he first rose to distinction -it was alleged that he himself did not know who his parents were, but -he disproved the calumny by producing his mother, and installing her -as the head of his harem.” -</p> - -<p> -“And a most disagreeable woman she is too,” said Lady Haigh, with deep -feeling. “I really don’t know a more intolerable person. It is a -perfect penance to have to go and pay my respects to her, which is one -of my official duties.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why is not the Pasha’s wife the head of his harem?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Which?” asked Denarien Bey, raising his eyebrows slightly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, has he more than one? I thought he was an enlightened kind of -man,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“He had already two wives when he came to Baghdad,” said Denarien Bey. -“You can suppose that his mother chose them for him, if you like, -mademoiselle. But his third and favourite wife, the mother of Azim -Bey, was an Arab, the daughter of the sheikh of the great Hajar tribe. -So you see it is as well that there was some one to keep order in the -harem, or the wills of these three ladies might have clashed.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how can the Pasha choose Azim Bey to succeed him if he has two -sons older than he is, as you said when we were in the other room?” -asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Not to succeed him, mademoiselle. Surely nothing that I said could -have suggested to you such an idea? In Turkey we do not believe in -hereditary honours, except in the case of the sovereign, and even then -it is the eldest prince in the royal family who succeeds, not -necessarily the eldest son of the late king, by any means. But with -respect to a pashalik like that of Baghdad, any son of the present -Pasha is the very last person on whom the Padishah would think of -conferring it at his death. In one or two generations a clever family -might gain the allegiance of the whole province, and succeed in -detaching it from the empire. It would be the height of folly to -permit such a thing. No, our young friend Azim Bey will be only a -private person, or if he wishes for public office, he will have to -make his way, like the sons of your own viceroys and -governor-generals. Of course there will be many advantages on his -side. He would have experience, friends, and plenty of money, which, -after all, is the great thing with us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then how is he the Pasha’s heir?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“He will succeed to the bulk of his property,” answered Denarien Bey, -“and that is by no means contemptible.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what about the two elder sons?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“That is a long story,” said Denarien Bey. “The Pasha’s eldest son, -Hussein Bey, was brought up by his mother and grandmother in -retirement while his Excellency was struggling to his present -position, and he grew up a very strict and bigoted Mussulman. Ahmed -Khémi is, as you, mademoiselle, have heard, a man of liberal and -enlightened opinions, and as soon as he sent for his household to -Baghdad, trouble began. Whatever the Pasha did was bitterly opposed by -his son, who was supported by the influence of the palace harem. At -length things became so bad that Hussein Bey was banished, but he is -still concerned in every plot which is set on foot by the more -fanatical among the Moslems to get rid of the Pasha, and he hates, -perhaps not unnaturally, his half-brother, Azim Bey. I believe that -his mother and grandmother have some wild idea that he may be able, if -properly supported, to depose his father and succeed him. Such a case -has occurred once during the present century, but it is not in the -least likely to be repeated, and they are not the right people to -bring it about, in any case.” -</p> - -<p> -“And the second son?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, the difficulty about Mahmoud Bey was of a different kind. His -Excellency was much at Constantinople before he became Pasha, and -while there he associated a good deal with certain members of the -European colony at Pera, who were not, perhaps, altogether the best -company he could have found. Among these was a Frenchman named Cadran, -who acted as tutor to the young Mahmoud Bey, and made himself very -useful to his father. When his Excellency came to Baghdad, M. Cadran -accompanied him, and was even allowed to give French lessons to Naimeh -Khanum, the Pasha’s eldest daughter, who was then very young. Suddenly -it was discovered that he was trying to induce the young lady to elope -with him, and was doing his best to gain her attendants over by -bribery. Of course the fellow was sent off at once, and unfortunately, -he was sent off so quickly that he was able to present a claim for -damages. The French Government took up the matter, and the Pasha was -forced to pay very heavily. Some time before, it had been arranged -that Mahmoud Bey was to finish his education in France, and he was -sent to the École Polytechnique. That was all very well, but when he -had finished his course of study, he refused to come back. He was -enjoying himself in Paris, with Cadran at his elbow, and his -Excellency was in communication with the French Government on the -subject, when the Bey died suddenly and all was ended.” -</p> - -<p> -“And so Azim Bey is the only one left?” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Just so, mademoiselle. Emineh<a href="#fn01b" id="fn01a">[01]</a> Khanum, his mother, was, as I have -said, the Pasha’s favourite wife, and on her deathbed she induced him -to promise to make her son his heir. That was just after Mahmoud Bey’s -first refusal to come home, and his Excellency was so angry that he -consented at once. But it was a foolish wish of the poor mother’s to -see her son the heir, for his brothers became incensed against him -immediately, and he is a mark for the hatred of the whole harem. Now -that his mother is dead, there is no one to protect him, and the -Um-ul-Pasha (mother of the Pasha) and the other two wives hate him for -the sake of the two elder sons. His Excellency has been obliged always -to take him with him wherever he went, and to keep him in the -<i>selamlik</i> (the men’s part of the house), instead of the harem when at -home, to save his life; but he finds that the Bey, from being so much -with men, is growing precocious and conceited, and he desires -therefore to obtain a governess for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what made him wish for an Englishwoman?” -</p> - -<p> -Denarien Bey smiled grimly. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not easy, mademoiselle, to find ladies of other nationalities -who combine the necessary qualifications. A Frenchwoman might have -been obtained, but after what I have told you, you will not be -surprised to hear that his Excellency would not allow a French person -to enter the palace, much less to have the charge of his son. For the -English, on the contrary, he has the highest admiration, and would -have liked to send the Bey to be educated at one of your great public -schools. The desire, however, of keeping him under his own eye, and -the fear of a repetition of his experience with Mahmoud Bey, induces -him to prefer this method, if it can be found practicable.” -</p> - -<p> -Shortly after this Denarien Bey took his departure, after again -expressing his earnest hope that Cecil would see her way clear to -accepting the post offered her. When he was gone, Lady Haigh rose. -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Marian,” she said to Miss Arbuthnot, “you and I are going to do -our shopping. You promised me the whole day, you know. Cecil is going -to sit down and write a glowing description of the situation the Pasha -offers her to her father, and say how much she longs to take it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I don’t in the least think that papa will let me go, Lady Haigh,” -said Cecil, waiving the remark about her personal wishes. -</p> - -<p> -“If he won’t, he is a much more foolish man than I think him,” replied -Lady Haigh, in her most uncompromising manner; “and I shall consider -it my duty to write him an urgent letter of remonstrance.” -</p> - -<p> -“When you go back, Lady Haigh,” asked Cecil, suddenly, “shall you go -to Beyrout and Damascus and then across the desert to Baghdad?” -</p> - -<p> -“When <i>we</i> go back, my dear Cecil,” corrected Lady Haigh, -impressively, “we shall go by the P. & O. to Karachi, then by another -steamer to Basra, and then by another to Baghdad. I am not an -adventurous young lady disposed to be sentimental over Bedouin -wanderers, and I have no wish to go through unnecessary hardships, nor -yet to be captured by insurgent Arabs and held to ransom, and so I -fear that you will have to be content to accompany the steady-going -old woman by this humdrum route.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I am quite sure that papa will never let me go,” repeated Cecil, -confidently, with a sigh that was not all of sadness. -</p> - -<p> -For æsthetic reasons she would be sorry not to see Baghdad, but -everything else seemed to combine to make her dread going there. She -was so strongly convinced that her father would share her feelings, -that she gave herself a great deal of trouble in trying to compose a -letter to him which should be scrupulously fair, and place all the -advantages of the situation in their proper light. The letter once -written and sent off, she felt quite at ease in her mind, and was even -disposed to mourn gently over the chance she was losing. It was Miss -Arbuthnot, and not Cecil, who betrayed excitement when Mr Anstruther’s -answer arrived, and waited with bated breath whilst it was opened. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sure he won’t let me go, Miss Arbuthnot,” Cecil had said, -smiling, as she took up the envelope; but on glancing through the -letter she uttered a cry, and looked up with a piteous face of dismay. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, he wants me to go—at least, he says that it -seems a most excellent offer, and he is coming up to town early -to-morrow morning to see about it and to talk to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, my dear, it only confirms the high opinion I have always held -of your father’s judgment. I expected he would say just this.” -</p> - -<p> -“It only shows how dreadfully I must have failed at home if papa is so -anxious to send me away,” said Cecil, on the verge of tears. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear child, if you will only look at things in a sensible light -instead of determining to make yourself out a martyr, you will -remember that Mr Anstruther is probably thinking only how much you -could help with the boys’ education.” -</p> - -<p> -But Cecil refused to be consoled, and her only comfort lay in the hope -that Mr Anstruther would find the post unsatisfactory when he came to -look into its conditions a little more. But she was out when he -arrived, and he was ushered immediately into the presence of Miss -Arbuthnot and Lady Haigh, who both assured him that Cecil was an -extremely fortunate girl to have such a chance. -</p> - -<p> -“You see,” said Miss Arbuthnot, “Cecil has done so very well that an -ordinary situation as governess or High School mistress is not to be -thought of for her. But here is an almost unique post waiting for her -acceptance in which she may do work which might well be called making -history. It is true that she must bind herself for five years or so, -but this is less of a drawback in her case than in others. I do not -myself think that she is likely to marry—at any rate, not early—for -she is a little fastidious in her tastes,—not that this is to be -regretted, but rather admired.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Anstruther almost blushed when he heard his daughter’s future thus -candidly discussed. It had not occurred to him to regard marriage in -the light in which it appeared to Miss Arbuthnot—as a kind of -devouring gulf which swallowed up the finest products of the female -education movement—and it seemed to him indelicate to estimate -probabilities so openly. But both ladies were so evidently unconscious -of Miss Arbuthnot’s having said anything improper that he quickly -recovered his composure and listened undisturbed to Lady Haigh’s -<i>exposé</i> of the advantages of the scheme. The consequence was that -when Cecil came in her father’s last doubts had been removed, and he -was ready to bid her God-speed in her enterprise. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, must I go?” she asked despairingly, when Mr -Anstruther had hurried off to catch his train for Whitcliffe, and -Cecil and the principal were at tea in the latter’s sanctum. -</p> - -<p> -“That is for you to decide,” answered Miss Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“That is just what papa said,” wailed Cecil; “but I don’t want to -decide.” -</p> - -<p> -“That means that you don’t want to go to Baghdad?” said Miss -Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“I want to go if it is right,” said Cecil; “but how am I to know -whether it is right? Don’t you think it seems like going into -temptation?” -</p> - -<p> -“Temptation of what kind?” asked Miss Arbuthnot. “Temptation to become -a Mohammedan, do you mean? No, my dear Cecil, I cannot honestly say -that I think the side of Islam you will see at Baghdad is likely to -attract you to it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now you are laughing at me,” said Cecil, reproachfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Dear child, I want to help you. If you feel that there is a work to -be done in Baghdad, and that you are called to do it, go; if not, stay -at home.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I am not to have anything to do with Azim Bey’s religious -education. Denarien Bey said that the Pasha would look after that.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can show him a Christian life, and you can exercise a Christian -influence,” said Miss Arbuthnot. “You have the honour of England and -of Christianity in your hands, Cecil, and it will be your work to -remove prejudice and to set an example of honesty and -incorruptibility.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how am I to know that it is my work?” asked Cecil again. -</p> - -<p> -“Cecil!” said Miss Arbuthnot, more in sorrow than in anger, “do I hear -one of my girls talking like this? This work is offered to you, and -you doubt whether it is meant for you. Your father, considering you a -reasonable being, leaves the decision to you, and you will not -decide.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I had so much rather he had told me outright either to go or to -stay,” pleaded Cecil. “I can’t bear deciding for myself.” -</p> - -<p> -“Timidity again, Cecil. So far as I can make you out, you are -convinced that you ought to go, but you want to stay.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do really want to do what is right, Miss Arbuthnot, but it feels so -dreadful to be going so far away from every one.” -</p> - -<div class="quote_o"><div class="quote_i"> -<p class="i0">“‘I only know I cannot drift</p> -<p class="i1">Beyond His love and care,’”</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent"> -quoted Miss Arbuthnot, reverently. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, you all want to drive me to Baghdad,” cried -Cecil, with tears in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Is not that very thing the leading you are looking for?” asked Miss -Arbuthnot. -</p> - -<p> -“I think it must be,” said Cecil, slowly. “Say no more, Miss -Arbuthnot—I will go.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch04"> -CHAPTER IV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE SHINING EAST.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">A very</span> busy time followed upon Cecil’s decision. Her agreement with -the Pasha had to be signed at once, before Denarien Bey left London, -though it was not to come into force until she reached Baghdad. It was -an imposing document, written in French, Arabic, and Turkish, with an -English translation thoughtfully appended, and Denarien Bey signed it -on the Pasha’s behalf, Lady Haigh adding her signature as a witness. -Two lawyers and several interpreters assisted in drawing up the deed, -and the extraordinary stipulations considered necessary by one party -and the other became a subject of mirth for both. When this legal -business was ended, Cecil went down to Whitcliffe for her farewells, -and found that her prospective departure had cast such a glamour over -her in the eyes of the younger children, that they regarded her with a -mixture of awe and envy delightful to behold. She was early informed -that she was expected to see and describe in full both Noah’s Ark and -the Tower of Babel; while the mere mention of Nineveh, Babylon, and -the Euphrates filled the youthful minds with an expectant wonder, -which would have been surprised by no result of her prospective -travels, however astounding. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs Anstruther was chiefly concerned as to the fate of a box of plain -and fancy needlework, the fruit of the labours of the St Barnabas’ -working-party during the past winter, which was destined for Mrs -Yehudi, the wife of a Jewish missionary labouring at Baghdad among his -own people,<a href="#fn02b" id="fn02a">[02]</a> and which Cecil was requested to deliver in person. -It was so delightful to think that Cecil would be able to write her a -special account of Dr and Mrs Yehudi’s work, to be read aloud at the -working-party, said Mrs Anstruther, who believed fervently in her -step-daughter, and thought that she was the most wonderful young woman -in the world. Perhaps it was this very faith which made her, in -Cecil’s present state of mind, appear unsympathetic, for her -imagination was vivid, and ran riot among the gorgeous possibilities -of the situation, having been nourished principally on a careful study -of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ which Mrs Anstruther regarded as a sort of -introductory guide-book to modern Baghdad. -</p> - -<p> -Taken altogether, the last few weeks at Whitcliffe were so -heart-breaking that Cecil was almost relieved when the day arrived for -her departure. She had still ten days or so to spend in London in -getting her outfit, and her father was to come up to see her off, but -this must be the final farewell to Mrs Anstruther and the children. -Cecil could almost have gone down on her knees to beg to be allowed to -stay, if that would have done any good, so utterly desolate and lonely -did she feel in view of the prospect which lay before her; but the -remembrance of Miss Arbuthnot’s strictures came over her, and helped -her to depart without quite breaking down. But it was very hard, and -when once the train was fairly on its way she withdrew into her corner -and cried. What were all the splendours and potentialities of her -future position compared with the row of tear-stained faces she had -seen on the platform, as she leaned out to get the last sight of the -station? Through all her wanderings that picture would remain -imprinted on her mind, its comic elements unperceived, and all -appearing as saddest earnest. Other people, whose attention was -attracted by the family group, laughed to behold Mr Anstruther -forcibly restraining Patsy and Terry, whose paroxysms of grief -threatened to land them on the rails, while Fitz stood by, with his -hands deep in his pockets, trying hard to whistle, and thereby prove -his manhood. Eily, Norah, and Geraldine, wiping their eyes vigorously -with abnormally dirty pocket-handkerchiefs, did not detract from the -moving effect of the scene upon a disinterested bystander, nor did Mrs -Anstruther, who had little Loey in her arms, and wiped her eyes upon -his jacket. Indeed, a cynical passenger in Cecil’s own compartment, on -hearing the tempest of wails and sobs which heralded the departure of -the train, remarked that the members of that family were evidently -trying to compete against the railway-whistle, and that they stood an -excellent chance of success. He had only jumped in as the train moved -off, and did not guess Cecil’s relationship to the family in question, -but his wife nudged him fiercely and frowningly, and he said no more. -</p> - -<p> -During her ten days in London Cecil had little time to give to grief. -It was an incessant rush from shop to stores, and from stores to shop, -a whirl of choosing things, and being fitted, and packing and -superintending. She had not only her own things to get, but an -assortment of the best and newest books and teaching appliances for -her future schoolroom at Baghdad. For this she had <i>carte blanche</i> -from the Pasha, and was further empowered to order a certain number of -books on educational subjects to be sent out to her every year. Cecil -had always (except at the moment of teaching her young brothers and -sisters) felt a pride and pleasure in her profession as teacher, and -she hailed with joy this proof of the high estimation in which his -Excellency also held her office. Miss Arbuthnot luxuriated as much as -she did in the newest educational inventions, but it was with an -unselfish, altruistic delight, for the governors of the South Central -High School had no mind for experiments, and preferred to wait until a -new idea was several years old before adopting it. -</p> - -<p> -At last all was ready, and books and maps and school furniture were -safely packed and sent on board ship in company with Cecil’s own -modest outfit. It had been arranged that she was to adopt a -modification of the native costume when at Baghdad, so as to avoid as -far as possible shocking the susceptibilities of the Moslems in the -Palace, and her personal luggage was therefore comparatively small in -bulk; still, it represented a good deal of care and thought, and Cecil -and Miss Arbuthnot heaved sighs of relief when it was off their minds. -The next business was the farewell to the old School, where the girls -and governesses, most of whom knew Cecil well, and nearly all of whom -regarded her with admiring envy, entertained her at supper, and -presented her with an elaborate dressing-case, in returning thanks for -which she so nearly broke down that Miss Arbuthnot had to finish the -speech for her. -</p> - -<p> -This was on the very last evening before her departure, and the next -day her father came up by the first train from Whitcliffe, and Lady -Haigh gave her up to him until three o’clock. If Cecil had been -inclined to think that she had caused more disappointment than joy to -her father, she was undeceived by those last few hours spent alone -with him, when he allowed a corner of the veil of reserve which -usually shrouded his inner feelings to lift, and let her see something -of what she really was to him. To poor Mr Anstruther, however, on -looking back on it, the interview did not seem to have been at all -satisfactory, for he had been thinking for days past of things he -ought to say to his daughter, and after it he was continually -remembering others which he ought to have said, none of which had -occurred to him at the time. As it was, he gave her many pieces of -advice as to her behaviour, her occupations, her influence over her -pupil, her Sundays, and so on, interspersed with periods of sorrowful -silence, which were far more eloquent than his abrupt and painful -counsels. Thus the time passed as they walked up and down the Thames -Embankment together, or sat down and pretended to admire the -flower-beds, and then they made their way slowly to the place where -they were to meet Lady Haigh. Miss Arbuthnot had heroically denied -herself the last sight of her pupil that she and her father might be -alone together as long as possible, and thus Cecil had no one but Mr -Anstruther to think of as she leant out of the carriage window for a -last look at his tall spare figure and lined face. It was the last -look for five years, and five such years!—too much to have faced if -she had known what they were to bring. -</p> - -<p> -It seemed to Cecil afterwards that Lady Haigh must have talked on -quietly and continuously, without making a pause or expecting an -answer, from the time they left the hotel until they reached the -docks. It was kindly intended, no doubt, that Cecil might have time to -cry a little and recover herself, but as a means of conveying -information it was a failure. Lady Haigh told Cecil all about the -captain and officers of the steamer by which they were to travel, and -by which she herself had returned to England. She also remarked that -her own Syrian maid had gone on board already with the luggage and -would give Cecil any assistance she might need during the earlier part -of the voyage, since the attendant who had been specially engaged for -her would not join them until they reached Egypt. They were to break -their journey at Alexandria and pay a visit of a week or two to Cairo, -where a married sister of Lady Haigh’s was living, whose husband -occupied a prominent post in the <i>entourage</i> of the then Khedive. Here -also they were to be joined by a cousin of Lady Haigh’s, who had just -been appointed surgeon of the hospital attached to the British -Residency at Baghdad, and who was to escort them during the rest of -their journey. By means of this one-sided conversation the chasm -caused by the actual parting was bridged, and Lady Haigh beguiled the -time of dropping down the Thames and settling their cabin with similar -pieces of information, while, when they were once fairly at sea, Cecil -was too ill to be able to think of any but strictly personal miseries. -</p> - -<p> -For once the agents’ rose-coloured forecast of the voyage proved to be -correct. The steamer did not meet with bad weather, nor did her -engines break down, and she accomplished the distance in rather less -than the average time, but Lady Haigh refused to listen to Cecil’s -plea for a day or two in Alexandria, and insisted on hurrying on at -once to Cairo. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” she said, “all this”—with a contemptuous wave of her hand -towards the fine houses on either side of the broad street through -which they were driving—“all this is modern, European, French, -tasteless! You want to enjoy your first sight of Eastern life, you -say? Very well, then thank me for taking you at once where you will -really see it, and not this wretched half-imitation.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the sky! the palm-trees! the people! the colours, Lady Haigh!” -cried Cecil in an ecstasy. -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, my dear—nothing to what you will see at Cairo!” and Cecil -was forced to be content. -</p> - -<p> -A short railway journey brought them to Cairo, and they found Mr -Boleyn, Lady Haigh’s brother-in-law, waiting to meet them. They drove -to his house in a luxurious carriage, with running footmen and a -magnificent coachman, and Cecil left the talk to her two companions, -and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the new pictures which met her -eye on every side. It seemed to her that she would have liked that -drive to go on for ever, and she was genuinely sorry, tired though she -was, to reach the Boleyns’ house, although she ought to have felt more -sympathy for Lady Haigh, who had not seen her sister for over twenty -years. It seemed to Cecil, however, that both ladies would have -acquiesced cheerfully in an even longer separation, for they could not -forget the time when Lady Haigh had been a clever and irrepressible -younger sister, and Mrs Boleyn had felt it her duty systematically to -snub her. Life in the tropics had not suited the elder sister as well -as it had the younger, and Mrs Boleyn was tall and gaunt and withered, -with a tendency to exult over Lady Haigh, because she (Mrs Boleyn) had -always said that Elma would soon be tired of her studies and her talk -about Women’s Rights, and would marry like other people. -</p> - -<p> -“But she didn’t say that at all, my dear,” Lady Haigh confided to -Cecil when they were going to their rooms. “What she always said was -that I should never get a husband because of my ridiculous notions.” -</p> - -<p> -These ancient hostilities were renewed at dinner over the mention of -Dr Egerton, the gentleman who was to escort the travellers for the -rest of their way. -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie has not arrived yet, I see,” Lady Haigh said pleasantly, as -they sat down to the table. -</p> - -<p> -“No, and he is not likely to arrive, so far as I can tell,” said Mrs -Boleyn. “The temptations of Port Said have probably been too much for -him. What good you expect a feather-pated rattlebrain like that to do -at Baghdad, I don’t know! I don’t consider that you have done yourself -at all a good turn, Elma, in inducing Dugald to get him appointed -there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie is a good fellow, and I want him to have a chance at last,” -said Lady Haigh, stoutly. “He has been unfortunate in his superiors -hitherto.” -</p> - -<p> -“I consider that his superiors have been extremely unfortunate in -him,” said Mrs Boleyn, with crushing calmness. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, we shall see,” said Lady Haigh, peaceably. “I hope to do what I -can to smooth his path, and Dugald will make allowances which another -man would not, perhaps.” -</p> - -<p> -“I call it a very foolish and ill-advised thing to bring him to -Baghdad,” persisted Mrs Boleyn; but as her sister did not accept the -challenge, the matter dropped. -</p> - -<p> -Mr Boleyn ate his dinner industriously without taking any notice of -the little dispute, and Cecil felt that his plan was the wisest, after -she had received two or three snubs from his wife in the course of the -evening for injudiciously endeavouring to change the subject of the -conversation when it seemed to be verging upon dangerous ground. Mrs -Boleyn’s manner and appearance did not tend to recommend her opinions -to the casual observer, and Cecil espoused Lady Haigh’s side of the -case so warmly in her own mind that she really did not need the -further assurance which her friend gave her when they went to their -rooms that night, and she found herself summoned to Lady Haigh’s -balcony for a talk. -</p> - -<p> -“I really can’t let you go to bed, Cecil, without putting you right -about poor Charlie Egerton. You mustn’t let Helena prejudice you -against him, for she has a way of finding something unpleasant to say -about every one. I think you know me well enough by this time, my dear -child, to be sure that I should not be likely to countenance anything -really unsatisfactory or wrong; but the fact is that, as I said, -Charlie has been unfortunate. He is very clever, and a most delightful -fellow, but he and his superiors always manage to rub one another the -wrong way. I daresay he is very eccentric, and likes to mix with the -natives more than Englishmen in the East generally do, but several -great men have done the same, and it is only a matter of taste, after -all, not a crime. He is very outspoken, too, and perhaps too much -disposed to be hail-fellow-well-met with every one he comes across. I -verily believe that if he met the Viceroy himself”—Lady Haigh spoke -with bated breath—“out for a walk, he would enter into conversation -quite coolly and offer him a cigar, just as if he was a man of his own -standing. If the Viceroy was a nice sensible sort of man and took it -all as it was meant, it would be all right, but if he was angry and -tried to snub him, Charlie would be very much hurt, perhaps indignant, -and would probably let him know it. You can imagine how a man of this -sort comes into collision with some of our stiff-and-starched -officials. They can’t understand a surgeon, with not so very many -years’ service, trying it on with them in that way, and they consider -it impudence; so they snub him, and that produces a coldness. Then -Charlie comes across some abuse, or some piece of official neglect -which he thinks it his duty to expose, and I should fear, my dear, -that, remembering the past, he doesn’t do it as tenderly as he might. -Then there are reports and complaints and censures, and finally Dr -Egerton is requested to resign. This has happened two or three times.” -</p> - -<p> -“A good man, no doubt, but perhaps not a very wise one,” was Cecil’s -comment. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s just it, my dear—as good as gold, but with no worldly wisdom -whatever. Well, I have got Sir Dugald to use his influence to get him -this post at Baghdad, and I only hope he may keep it. But now I see -Marta glaring at me like a reproachful ghost for keeping her up so -long, so I must send you away, Cecil. To-morrow night you also will -have begun to learn what a tyrant a confidential maid may become.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil laughed, and said she meant to enjoy her last evening of -freedom, which she did by writing a long letter to her father, and -describing to him all that she had seen since her landing at -Alexandria. Consequently, she overslept herself the next morning and -did not wake until Marta brought her in a cup of tea, and informed her -that her maid had come and was waiting to see her. -</p> - -<p> -“I didn’t know that Eastern people got up so early in the morning -now,” said Cecil to herself as she dressed. “I thought they were -always about half a day late, but I suppose this is a unique -specimen.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, tapping at her door, “don’t you want -to speak to your maid? She has been waiting quite a long time.” And -Cecil hurried through her toilet obediently, and, coming out of her -room, found a tall, severe-looking elderly Syrian woman talking to her -friend. -</p> - -<p> -“Her name is Khartûm,” said Lady Haigh, turning to Cecil, “but she is -always called Um Yusuf—mother of Joseph, that is. It is the custom in -Syria, you know. She has been a widow a good many years, and her son -is a soldier in the Turkish army. Her last situation was at -Constantinople, where she was nurse to the children of Lord Calne, the -late Ambassador, so she knows a good deal about the ins and outs of -Court life, and will be able to give you all the needed hints as to -etiquette, and so on. Of course I shall always be glad to tell you -anything; but then you will not have me continually at hand, and -really good manners in Turkey are a very complicated business.” -</p> - -<p> -In fact, Um Yusuf’s duties were those of a duenna quite as much as a -maid, and she was well fitted in appearance for the post. She wore the -long black silk mantle of the respectable Egyptian woman, which -enveloped her from head to foot, and Lady Haigh commended the costume -as exceedingly sensible and responsible-looking. -</p> - -<p> -“You will have to accompany Miss Anstruther everywhere,” she said to -the maid; “and I am sure I can depend upon you to help her with your -experience whenever she feels puzzled.” -</p> - -<p> -“She too young,” said Um Yusuf, bending her black brows on Cecil for -the first time. We spare the reader the good woman’s pronunciation, -while preserving her eccentric grammatical style. “Why she not stay -home and get married? Tahir Pasha’s daughter have governess, old lady -with spectacles, not like this. Azim Bey very bad boy. Laugh at -Mademoiselle Antaza.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is cheering news for you, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, laughing; -“but I don’t think you’ll be frightened. Miss Anstruther knows -something about naughty boys, Um Yusuf. She has four brothers at -home.” -</p> - -<p> -“English bad boy not like Toork bad boy,” said the imperturbable Um -Yusuf; “Azim Bey wicked boy, read bad books, go do bad things. My -cousin in Baghdad tell me all about him.” -</p> - -<p> -“A boy of ten who reads bad books!” cried Lady Haigh. “I didn’t know I -was bringing you to face such a monster of juvenile depravity, Cecil. -These Eastern children are very precocious, I know, but I never -thought of this particular form of wickedness. Well, my dear, I think -you will conquer him if any one can. But now it is breakfast-time, and -we are going to the bazaars afterwards with the dragoman, so we must -not be late. You can go to your sister Marta, Um Yusuf, and she will -show you the way about the house. She can tell you all you want to -know, too, so you need not trouble to try to read Miss Anstruther’s -letters.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch05"> -CHAPTER V.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A NEW EXPERIENCE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">There</span>!” said Lady Haigh, “what do you think of that, Cecil?” -</p> - -<p> -They were sitting on the divan in a little cramped-up shop in one of -the bazaars, with tiny cups of black coffee before them, and all -manner of lovely fabrics—silks and muslins and brocades and -gauzes—strewn around. The proprietor of the establishment, an elderly -Moslem with a long beard, was exhibiting listlessly a rich, soft silk, -as though it was not of the slightest consequence to him whether they -bought anything or not. Leaning against the door-post was the -gorgeously attired dragoman whom Mr Boleyn had ordered to attend the -ladies in their shopping, and who made himself actively objectionable -by insisting on explaining everything that met their eyes, regardless -of the fact that Lady Haigh was an old Eastern traveller, and that -Cecil had read so much about Egypt that, but for her ignorance of the -language, she could have acted as cicerone in a Cairo street as well -as he could. -</p> - -<p> -At the sound of Lady Haigh’s voice, Cecil, whose seat was nearest the -street, turned with a start, for her eyes had wandered down the long -dim arcade and among the many-coloured figures thronging it. -</p> - -<p> -“I think it will do very well,” she said, and withdrawing her eyes -resolutely from the street, devoted herself to listening to the -energetic bargaining carried on between her friend and the shopman -with the dragoman’s assistance. It was very oriental, of course, but -it spoiled the poetry of the scene, and she was glad when Lady Haigh -at last rose and left the shop, after paying for the silk and -directing it to be sent to the house. -</p> - -<p> -“Caffé-house, ladies,” said the dragoman, when they had gone on a -little farther; and Cecil looked with much interest and curiosity at -the building he pointed out. It was a large, low room, with one side -open to the street, crowded with men sitting on the divans and -smoking, or drinking coffee out of cups which stood beside them on -little low tables. The group was a motley one, and Cecil, as soon as -her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, began to try and make out -by their costume the nationality of the different items that composed -it. Following the sound of a loud distinct voice speaking in some -unknown tongue, her gaze reached the speaker, and she saw to her -amazement that he was a European, or at any rate a sunburnt, -dark-haired young man in ordinary English dress. Lady Haigh’s eyes -followed hers, and seemed to make the same discovery at the same -moment, for their owner recoiled suddenly, and, seizing Cecil’s arm, -led her away. -</p> - -<p> -“Storree-teller tell tale, ladies,” remarked the dragoman, but Lady -Haigh appeared to be stifling irresistible laughter, and Cecil -wondered whether the story-teller were an oriental Mark Twain. -</p> - -<p> -“I know that boy will be the death of me!” cried Lady Haigh, finding -her voice at last. “My dear, it’s Charlie!” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie? Dr Egerton, your cousin?” gasped Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“The same, my dear. This is one of his freaks. You know I told you how -fond he is of mixing with the natives wherever he goes. Now I daresay -he has been a week in Cairo without ever letting Helena and her -husband know he was here, staying in some wretched little native inn, -and prowling about the bazaars all day.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s private thought was that Dr Egerton’s tastes in the matter of -hotel accommodation must be peculiar, though she herself acknowledged -the fascination of the bazaars; but she had not time to make any -remark on the subject, for they heard some one running after them, and -turning, beheld the coffee-house hero himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Cousin Elma!” he cried, shaking hands with her, “I am so dreadfully -ashamed not to have known you. I had a dim idea that there were some -English ladies there, looking into the room, but I didn’t in the least -know who it was until a Baghdadi, who happened to be among the -audience, said—I mean, told me you were there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, don’t be afraid of hurting my feelings, my dear boy. I know he -said, ‘O my Effendi, behold the Mother of Teeth,’ now didn’t he?” and -Lady Haigh laughed long and heartily. -</p> - -<p> -“You are cruelly hard on my poor little attempts at politeness, Cousin -Elma. You will give your friend an awful idea of me. Oh, by the bye,” -with intense eagerness, “what have you done with the old lady? Is she -at Cousin Helena’s? How do they get on together?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Charlie, what old lady? I have not the faintest idea whom you -mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, the lady graduate, the instructress of youth, Mentor in a pith -helmet and spectacles, the new female Lycurgus,—his Excellency’s -English governess?” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie, have I never told you not to run on at such a rate? I want -to introduce you. This is Miss Anstruther, officially known as -Mademoiselle Antaza, his Excellency’s English governess.” -</p> - -<p> -“Impossible!” cried he, aghast. -</p> - -<p> -“Really,” said Cecil, with some pique in her tone, “everybody seems to -think it their duty to impress upon me that I am very young and very -giddy for the office. I am rather tired of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Miss Anstruther,” said Charlie Egerton, solemnly, “I only -wish I were Azim Bey!” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie, for shame!” cried Lady Haigh. “I will not have you tease -Miss Anstruther. Remember that you will be companions all through our -voyage to Baghdad, so you must behave properly. Cecil, my dear, you -must not mind this wild boy. He is always getting into trouble by -means of his tongue, and never takes warning. Charlie, I want to know -how it is that you have not turned up at Helena’s house. She hasn’t an -idea that you are in Cairo at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cousin Helena’s house would be a desert to me without you, Cousin -Elma; surely you know that? I felt it so acutely when I came, that I -determined not to show myself there until you were safely arrived. I -strolled round each day and had a talk with the <i>bowab</i> (doorkeeper), -and so learned the news. I knew you were expected last night, and I -meant to present myself in decent time for dinner this evening. I’ll -do so still unless you have any objection.” -</p> - -<p> -“I only hope,” said Lady Haigh, rather absently, “that you won’t talk -nonsense of this kind to Helena. She won’t understand it, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you wish it, Cousin Elma, I will confine my conversation -exclusively to Miss Anstruther. I couldn’t venture to talk nonsense to -her, so that ought to keep me safe.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Charlie, nothing but a gag would keep <i>you</i> safe,” said Lady -Haigh, with deep conviction. “And now we are going in here to do some -shopping, and we don’t want any gentlemen to interrupt us, so good-bye -until this evening.” -</p> - -<p> -He turned away with a rueful look which made both ladies laugh, and -disappeared obediently among the brilliant crowd, Lady Haigh only -waiting until he was out of earshot to inquire anxiously what Cecil -thought of him. -</p> - -<p> -“He seems rather talkative,” said Cecil, expressing her thought -mildly. “An empty-headed rattle,” was what she said in her own mind, -and Lady Haigh, as if guessing this, took up the cudgels at once on -her cousin’s behalf. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, that’s nothing but nervousness, my dear. You would really never -guess that Charlie is simply afraid of ladies, especially young ones. -He talks like that just to keep his courage up. But he is not like -some men, all on the surface. There’s plenty of good stuff behind. -Why, you mightn’t think it, but he can talk eight or nine Eastern -dialects well enough to make the natives think him an oriental, and -there are not many of whom that can be said. I’m afraid all his -cleverness has gone in that direction, instead of helping him on in -the world. Natives always take to him wonderfully, but when you’ve -said that you’ve said all, or nearly all.” -</p> - -<p> -Even after this, Cecil still thought that Lady Haigh’s fondness for -her cousin made her very kind to his virtues and decidedly blind to -his faults; but she was a little ashamed of this hasty generalisation -after a discussion she had with him that evening, and felt obliged to -confess that there was more in Dr Egerton than she had thought. Dinner -was over, and they were sitting out in the open court of the Boleyns’ -house. Mr Boleyn had been obliged to go out to attend some official -function, and the voices of Lady Haigh and Mrs Boleyn, as they -discussed, more or less amicably, reminiscences of their youth, -mingled pleasantly with the soothing plash of the fountain. A severe -snubbing from Mrs Boleyn during dinner had failed to reduce Charlie to -silence or contrition, but now he seemed to enter into Cecil’s mood, -and waited meekly until she chose to speak. To Cecil, lying back in -her chair in a bower of strange creepers and flowering-shrubs, -watching the moonlight as it crept over the walls of the house and the -more distant minarets of a mosque a little way off, it seemed almost -sacrilege to talk. But she awoke at last to the fact that she was not -doing her duty by her companion, and reluctantly broke the delightful -silence by the only remark which would come into her mind. -</p> - -<p> -“Isn’t it lovely?” she asked, softly, and Charlie awoke out of a -reverie, and made haste to answer that it was heavenly. -</p> - -<p> -“I have longed for this all my life,” said Cecil, “and Lady Haigh says -that Baghdad will be even better.” -</p> - -<p> -“Better? in what way?” asked Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“More Eastern, you know,” said Cecil, “but I can’t imagine anything -more perfect than this.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see that you are one of the people who feel the fascination of the -East,” said he. -</p> - -<p> -“Who could help it?” asked Cecil. “It is a fascination, there is no -other word for it. Kingsley says that a longing for the West is bound -up in the hearts of men, but I think that in this age of the world the -reverse is true. I daresay if I had ever been in America it would be -different; but now it seems to me that all the romance is gone from -the West, and that it is all big towns, and gold-mines, and wonderful -inventions, and rush. The East seems so mysterious and reposeful, so -old, too, and so picturesque.” -</p> - -<p> -“And yet,” said Charlie, “you want to change it all, and import into -it the newest ideas in religions and the latest Yankee culture. You -would like all those mysterious veiled women, with the beautiful eyes, -whom you saw to-day, to be turned into learned ladies in tweed frocks -and hard hats, with spectacles and short hair.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed,” said Cecil, “that is not my ideal at all. A modification -of their own style of dress would be much more suitable to them than a -bad copy of ours. And they couldn’t all be learned, but they all ought -to know a good deal more than they can at present, poor things! If -they were only better educated, it would be much easier to introduce -reforms Denarien Bey says that most of Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s plans are -thwarted by his harem.” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie groaned. “I beg your pardon, Miss Anstruther,” he said, “but -my feelings were too much for me. An Eastern I can respect, a European -I can pity, but a Europeanised, Europeanising Turk like Ahmed Khémi I -can only detest.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t hear my employer spoken against in that way,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Your employer? So he is. Well, Miss Anstruther, I can forgive him -anything, since he is bringing you to Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil frowned. “I really cannot imagine,” she said, severely, “how a -person like yourself, who admires quiet so intensely, can talk so -much.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is the fault of the two natures in me,” said Charlie, gravely, -though he was inwardly shaking with laughter over this amazing snub. -“As a European, I am bound to talk and go on like other people, to be -feverishly busy, and if I have no work of my own, to hunt up other -people’s and set them at it. Then I get sick of it all, and go off and -become an Eastern. Perfect idleness is then my highest idea of -happiness, and I am quite content to sit for a whole day in the -tent-door with an Arab sheikh, exchanging platitudes on the -inevitability of the decrees of fate, at intervals of half an hour.” -</p> - -<p> -“But have you ever tried that?” asked Cecil, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -“Tried it? I do it periodically, whenever I can get hold of a -sufficiently unsophisticated sheikh. It doesn’t do to go to the same -people twice. They always find out somehow afterwards who you really -are, and spot you the next time. But the desert life is wonderful, -simply wonderful! The mere thought of it makes me long to go out there -and begin it again this moment. It is so free and irregular. You pass -from tremendous exertion to absolute idleness.” -</p> - -<p> -“And while you are idle the poor women do all the work,” interrupted -Cecil, unkindly. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, that is where Eastern and Western notions clash,” said Charlie. -“There must be some drawbacks even to desert life, and one scarcely -feels called upon to go about lecturing to the Arabs on the proper -treatment of their wives.” He looked at Cecil mischievously, but she -declined to be drawn into an argument on the subject of women’s -rights, and asked— -</p> - -<p> -“Have you ever spent a really long time in the desert?” -</p> - -<p> -“That depends on what you consider a long time,” he answered. “When I -was in Persia I went with a caravan of pilgrims from Resht to Kerbela, -which took some time, and a good part of the way lay through the -desert. Of course the pilgrims were not always the most delightful of -fellow-travellers, and one couldn’t help objecting very strongly to -the companionship of the dead bodies which were carried along slung on -mules to be buried at Kerbela. It was rather wearing, too, to have to -be on your guard the whole time lest you should betray yourself, for -the pilgrims are not particular, and would have torn you to pieces as -soon as look at you. But it was great fun, all the same. There was -pleasure even in the risk, and then it’s not many Europeans that get -the chance of seeing the holy places. All that, and the desert as -well.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I don’t understand,” said Cecil. “Do you mean that you pretended -to be a Mohammedan?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” answered Charlie, smiling. “I assure you that I am not one -really, Miss Anstruther.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see that that makes it any better,” said Cecil. “You mean -that you dressed up and went through all the ceremonies just as if you -had been a Mohammedan, and said all the prayers, and never meant it? -Of course they are wrong, but they believe in their religion, and it -can’t make it right for us to do things of that kind. Besides, for you -it was acting a lie.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I don’t know. It never struck me in that light,” said Charlie. -“I’m afraid I looked upon it as part of the joke, Miss Anstruther. -Well, perhaps not of the joke—as part of what had to be gone through -to ensure success. You see, I had an object. I was studying the -dissemination of cholera by means of these caravans of pilgrims, and I -wanted to do it thoroughly, so I thought I would go in for the whole -thing. But I might perhaps have done it and stopped short of that. -I’ll remember another time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Charles,” said Mrs Boleyn’s voice, “perhaps you are not aware of the -lateness of the hour;” and after this delicate hint, Charlie took his -departure. During the remainder of their stay in Cairo, he made a -point of appearing at unexpected times, and helping the travellers to -organise expeditions to the Pyramids and other points of interest, but -he turned a deaf ear to Lady Haigh’s hint that he ought to volunteer -to come and take up his quarters at the Boleyns’, and at this they -could scarcely wonder. Before the end of their stay, Cecil, though -declaring emphatically that she was not in the least tired of Cairo, -began to display great eagerness to reach Baghdad, and Lady Haigh made -no pretence of disguising her desire to do the same. -</p> - -<p> -“Helena and I agree better apart, my dear,” she explained frankly to -Cecil. “One really can’t quarrel much in letters, but when we are -together we can’t do anything else.” -</p> - -<p> -This was already sufficiently obvious, and it is probable that no one, -unless perhaps Mr Boleyn, was sorry when the time came for the -travellers to journey to Port Said, there to resume their interrupted -voyage. Lady Haigh and Cecil, with their two maids, and Dr Egerton, -with his Armenian boy Hanna, made an imposing party, and excited no -small amount of curiosity and speculation in the minds of the -passengers on board the P. & O. boat. Lady Haigh was never a woman to -do things by halves, and from the moment that she came on board she -took by sheer force of character the place she felt was her right, -although in the present case it was conceded to her without opposition -as soon as it was known who she was. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you noticed,” said Charlie Egerton to Cecil, one night in the -Red Sea, “that my dear cousin is perceptibly growing taller and more -imposing in appearance? Her foot is on her native heath now. This side -of Suez we are under the beneficent sway of the Indian Government, and -her position is assured, whereas at home she might have been anybody -or nobody. You will observe the majesty of her demeanour increase -continually, until, when she reaches Baghdad, you will recognise in -her every gesture that she represents the Queen-Empress.” -</p> - -<p> -“But surely that is Sir Dugald’s business?” laughed Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Sir Dugald can’t do everything. He can’t render the Um-ul-Pasha and -the other ladies at the Palace the civilities which are imperatively -due to them, and he can’t conciliate or madden the ladies of the -European colony by delicately adjusted hospitalities as she can. If I -may say so, Cousin Elma represents the social half of her most -gracious Majesty, and Sir Dugald, the Balio Bey as they call him, the -administrative half.” -</p> - -<p> -“And which is the more important?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Too hard. Ask me another,” said Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, which of them rules the other?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“That is a delicate point,” returned Charlie, “and opinions naturally -differ; but if you ask me, I should say that Sir Dugald does it in -reality, but that Cousin Elma thinks she does, and so both are -satisfied.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I think I should prefer it the other way,” said Cecil, -meditatively, and Charlie laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“That is exactly what I should have imagined,” he said. “But, joking -apart, you can see that others consider that Cousin Elma has a right -to think a good deal of herself. Look at the people here, for -instance. Happily, we have no very big-wigs on board, or there might -be trouble. In any case, Cousin Elma, as the wife of a major-general, -would carry things with a pretty high hand among the army set, but -there would be difficulty with the wives of the bigger civilians. But -it’s all right with them too now, because Sir Dugald is a political. -They know their duty too well to be unpleasant, and besides, it is -quite on the cards that Sir Dugald might be useful to any of them any -day, if it was desired to find a nice out-of-the-way berth for some -unfortunate relative who had fooled away his chances, as Sir Dugald -sympathetically remarked to me was my case, the only time I saw him.” -</p> - -<p> -If Charlie expected an indignant contradiction, he was disappointed. -Cecil looked away over the sea, and smiled involuntarily. -</p> - -<p> -“I was wondering whether you had talked away your chances,” she said, -for they were on sufficiently intimate terms now to allow of little -hits like this. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s exactly what I did do,” he said. “You may be surprised to hear -it, Miss Anstruther, but I have a very inconvenient conscience, -especially with regard to the things which other people leave undone. -They say that in England abuses are good things on the whole, because -people get up a separate society for the removal of each one, and this -affords occupation to many deserving persons; but in the East they’re -good for a man to come to grief over, and nothing more. If you will -only let things alone you’re all right, but if you make a fuss it’s -like fretting your heart out against a stone wall. Why, in my last -district—my last failure, if you please—I found there was cholera -brewing. I have studied the subject particularly, as I think I have -mentioned to you before, but because I could see a little further than -the rest of them they called me faddy and an alarmist. I told them -what measures ought to be taken, but the man above me, pig-headed old -brute! squashed all my representations. If ever a man deserved to be -carried off by cholera, that fellow did. At last the cholera came, and -I wrote him a letter that he had to attend to. The precautions I had -recommended were taken—it was too late, naturally, but we checked the -thing before it had gone very far—and I was recommended to resign. -Insubordination and so on, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“But were you obliged to be insubordinate?” Cecil ventured to ask. -</p> - -<p> -“No, it was too late, like the precautions. He couldn’t pretend to -disregard the cholera, but I had to relieve my mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“That was a great pity,” said Cecil, and would say no more. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch06"> -CHAPTER VI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A PERIOD OF PROBATION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">At Karachi</span> there came the first interruption to the smoothness which -had hitherto marked the journey. Lady Haigh had expected to be met at -this point by the gunboat which was under Sir Dugald’s orders, and was -generally occupied in patrolling the Shat-el-Arab and the Persian Gulf -for the protection of British interests, and she had intended to make -a triumphal voyage and entry into Baghdad by its means. But instead of -the gunboat there came a telegram from Sir Dugald to say that the -services of the <i>Nausicaa</i> were imperatively required in the opposite -direction, and that the travellers must therefore come on in the -ordinary way. Unfortunately, however, they had missed the regular -steamer to Basra, and Lady Haigh, who had developed an extraordinary -desire to have the journey over, insisted that they should take -passage on another that happened to be starting. Charlie Egerton -protested loudly against this, declaring that he knew what those -wretched coasters were like—ramshackle old things, creeping along and -touching at all sorts of unheard-of ports, and staying for no one knew -how long. They would probably reach Basra not a day sooner than if -they had waited for the next steamer; and if they were fated to lose -time on the journey, why not spend it at Karachi, and take the -opportunity of showing Miss Anstruther a little of India? But here -Lady Haigh looked at him with mingled sorrow and impatience, and -simply reiterated her determination to press on. -</p> - -<p> -The voyage on the coasting steamer was a new experience to Cecil. The -vessel was old, the cargo mixed, the crew also mixed—in fact, -everything was mixed but the society, and that was extremely select, -since it was confined to their own party. The captain and mate, -overawed by the presence of two ladies on board, withdrew themselves -as much as possible from the cabin, though they fraternised with -Charlie, as every one did, when they could get him alone. Day after -day the vessel steamed past the same low shores, with coral-reefs -stretching out to sea, and ranges of low hills in the distance behind. -Several times, during the first part of the voyage, she touched at -queer little towns of square, white, flat-roofed houses, with high -towers, where the inhabitants could catch what wind there was, rising -up among the feathery date-palms. There were Englishmen at all these -places—telegraph officials, clerks, and agents—who talked -Anglo-Indian slang, and did their best to render life endurable by all -manner of Indian expedients. After this there was a considerable -stretch of coast without any port, and the captain and mate developed -an inclination to take things easily and to let the ship look after -herself. The first result of this was that the steamer ran ashore one -night, taking the ground quite quietly and gently on a reef connected -with an archipelago of small islands. The captain blamed the mate, -whose watch on deck it was; the mate blamed the captain, who knew -these waters better than he did; and both united in blaming the -steersman, the charts, and the compass. The blame having been thus -equitably distributed, the belligerents agreed to bury the hatchet and -try and get the ship off; and as it appeared to be necessary to shift -the cargo for this purpose, tents were constructed for the passengers -on the nearest island. To these they were very glad to retreat, for -the ship had heeled over to such a degree that the floor of the cabins -was a steep slope, at the foot of which everything from the other side -of the room gradually collected. -</p> - -<p> -Here, then, on this nameless island, with its palm-trees and its -spring of water, were all the materials for a latter-day idyll. A -shipwreck, a desert island, a prolonged picnic, everything was -complete, and yet one or two things spoilt it altogether, so that the -episode would scarcely be worth mentioning save to show how Lady -Haigh’s schemes went wrong. Charlie did not fail to remind her that he -had counselled her to wait at Karachi, and pointed out that she, at -any rate, would have been much more comfortable there. Their desert -island was so far complete that there was even a likelihood of pirates -in its neighbourhood, although Cecil, who had a robust and healthy -faith in the past exploits of the British navy, and in the <i>Pax -Britannica</i> established in Indian waters at this period of the -century, could never be brought to believe that Charlie was doing more -than trying to frighten her when he mentioned them. The greatest -drawback to the place was its extreme smallness. There could be no -exciting explorations, journeys made in single file through dense -forests right into the heart of the island, because there was no -forest and so very little island. There could be no hope of -discovering volcanoes, caves, traces of previous inhabitants, wild -beasts, or any other commonplaces of desert-island travel, because -there was no room for them. If Lady Haigh was in her tent and wanted -Cecil, she knew that she must be either sitting in the shade outside, -or standing under the palm-trees looking out to sea, for there was -nowhere else. Again, there were no hardships—not even the semblance -of any. The ladies were not so much as obliged to make their own beds, -for, besides their two maids, there was one of the ship’s stewards, a -Zanzibari boy, who was always on shore at their service. On board this -luckless youth was perpetually falling from the rigging or into the -hold, and he was sent on land to keep him from doing any more damage -to himself or to other people. No doubt it would be pretty and idyllic -to describe how Charlie Egerton picked up sticks and lighted the fire -in order that Cecil might prepare the breakfast, but it would not be -true; for, in the first place, there were no sticks, but a portable -stove brought from the vessel, which burned petroleum; and, in the -second place, the ship’s cook was still responsible for the meals. In -fine, this was a shipwreck with all the modern improvements. -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps it was this fact which rendered the relations of the castaways -different from those usually observed under such circumstances. The -crew did not go off in the boats, abandoning the vessel and the -passengers, nor did they broach the rum-casks. They worked as hard and -were as obliging and respectful as before, and brought queer fishes -and shells for the ladies to see when they found them. When the -captain and mate walked along the reef at night to what was still -called the “cabin dinner,” they still ate in silence, and when the -meal was over, the mate felt it his duty at once to go and see what -the men were doing, and when he did not come back, the captain -invariably went to see what was keeping him, and did not come back -either. As for the men, they appeared in great force on Sunday -evening, when hymns were to be sung, and again one week-day, when a -concert was got up after work was over, the sailors in their clean -clothes, with very shiny faces and very smooth hair, and the Lascars -in gorgeous raiment of all the colours of the rainbow, but otherwise -the passengers saw less of them than they had done on shipboard. -</p> - -<p> -The archipelago to which the desert island belonged was not all -uninhabited. There were two good-sized islands in it which supported a -considerable population, and the castaways made two expeditions to the -larger of these. The people were all bigoted Moslems, who testified -extreme horror at the sight of the unveiled faces of Lady Haigh and -Cecil, and regarded the whole party with feelings of lively -disapprobation. Their own women were wrapped up from top to toe -whenever they ventured out of doors, and their faces were additionally -protected by a thick horse-hair mask, so that it is possible that it -was the discomfort of this arrangement which made the men fear a -domestic rebellion as the result of the visit of the Frangi ladies. -For the rest, the islanders lived a good deal on fish, and apparently -also threw away a good deal, and dried a considerable quantity for -future consumption, which made their streets unpleasantly odoriferous, -and there were few attractions in their surroundings to counterbalance -this defect, until, in extending the area of their observations, Cecil -and Charlie made a great discovery. Lying among the hills which backed -the little town was a valley filled with prehistoric ruins, and beyond -this again an ancient cemetery. To Cecil this find was as a -trumpet-call to utilise her detention in a way which would command the -gratitude of the learned world by demonstrating, possibly finally, the -real origin of the Phœnicians, and Charlie required little persuasion -to induce him to help her. Accordingly, they returned to the island -the next day, prepared for business. Photography was not practised -then as it is now, but Cecil intended to sketch the ruins, and Charlie -was to hire natives to begin excavations under his direction. -Unfortunately, these proceedings did not meet the views of the -inhabitants. To them it appeared certain that the strangers were going -to search for hidden treasure, with the necessary result of exposing -the island to the wrath of the defrauded ghostly guardians of the -spoil, and they expressed their dissent so strongly that the baffled -explorers were thankful to be able to return to their boat in safety, -the people hurling maledictions and more substantial missiles after -them. This is the reason why, so far as Cecil is concerned, the -Phœnician problem remains still unsolved. -</p> - -<p> -“I could soon make friends with those island fellows if I had them by -myself,” remarked Charlie as they rowed away, with rather a wistful -look back at the shore. -</p> - -<p> -“But, my dear boy, why don’t you, then?” cried Lady Haigh, with marked -inhospitality. “Go over by yourself and live among them until we get -the ship off. We could easily let you know when we were ready to -start, and we should get on quite well without you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, do go if you would rather,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s likely, isn’t it?” was his sole reply, and no more was said. -Under ordinary circumstances, Lady Haigh felt sure, he would have been -off to those islanders for a week or a month, even though it had -involved the sacrifice of all his interests in life, and the fact that -he did not succumb to their attractions now showed that there was some -very potent influence at work to detain him. What that influence was, -Lady Haigh had no difficulty in guessing. Charlie’s behaviour as his -cousin’s escort had been most exemplary, but she did not flatter -herself that it was her society he sought. Charlie could never have -been anything but a gentleman, but the assiduous way in which he had -attended upon Cecil and herself since they had left Cairo bespoke -something more than mere politeness. He had found out the way to catch -Cecil’s attention now, and he used it. He was full of the most -enthralling anecdotes and stories, narratives of his own adventures, -and accounts of the queer people he had met in his wanderings, and he -proved that his tales were as potent to interest a graduate of London -University as a knot of listeners in a Cairo coffee-house. It was he -who, by his extraordinary yarns, whiled away the long days on the -island; and they were very long sometimes, for both ladies were -anxious to reach their journey’s end, and chafed somewhat at the -enforced detention. Happily there was no fear that the interruption to -their voyage would cause anxiety to their friends, for the ways of the -coasting steamers were known to be so erratic that no one would think -of theirs as missing for a long time, and by that time they would -probably have been picked up by the next regular steamer from Karachi; -but to Cecil, who was nervously anxious to get to her work, the delay -was a weary one. Under these circumstances Charlie’s power of -discoursing for hours together came as a great relief. Cecil laughed -at him in public, and in private teased him occasionally, in a -dignified way, about his extraordinary flow of conversation; and yet -felt, though she never confessed it to herself, that Baghdad would not -be quite the land of exile she had pictured it, and endured the long -delay very philosophically on the whole. -</p> - -<p> -“I really think that Azim Bey will be grown up by the time I reach -Baghdad,” she said one day, when the crew had been patiently shifting -and reshifting the cargo for some time without producing any -perceptible effect on the ship’s position. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you afraid of getting out of practice, Miss Anstruther?” inquired -Charlie. “Because I shouldn’t a bit mind your keeping your hand in by -teaching me a little. We could get up a stunning schoolroom by putting -one of those flat rocks for a blackboard, and you could instil some -mental philosophy and moral science into me. They never could make me -learn any when I was a boy, and all I’ve picked up since is entirely -practical and quite contrary to all received rules, so that I should -be glad to learn how to think properly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, wagging her head wisely; “Miss -Anstruther is anxious to get to her proper work, and doesn’t want to -waste her time on you. If you really want to please her, help the men -to get the ship off, so that we can go on again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cruel, cruel woman!” he cried. “No sentiment about Cousin Elma, is -there, Miss Anstruther? Well, after that, if my humble efforts can do -anything, we shall not be here much longer, though the mate did remark -airily, when I offered to help, that they didn’t want any landsmen -meddling about. But at any rate, if we wait two or three months -longer, we must be picked up by the mail.” -</p> - -<p> -As it happened, the mail came in sight that very evening, and at once -hove to in answer to the signals from the stranded ship. By the united -efforts of the two crews the coaster was got off, and at length -proceeded on her way, to the great joy of the majority of her -passengers. With Charlie Egerton, however, it was otherwise, for not -only did he regret the pleasant time which was past, but there was a -look in Lady Haigh’s eye now and then which betokened a lecture in -store, and as he guessed what would be the subject of this, he made it -his constant endeavour to avoid it. -</p> - -<p> -“I really feel quite sorry to leave our island now, don’t you, Lady -Haigh?” asked Cecil, as they stood on deck, watching the tops of the -palm-trees disappear beneath the horizon. “Our life there has been so -quiet, a sort of pause between our hurry in starting and the new work -to which we are going.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, my dear Cecil; you are just like a cat. You can’t bear to -be moved,” said Lady Haigh, with more force than politeness. “There -are some people who would grow sentimental on leaving a prison, if -they had only been there long enough.” -</p> - -<p> -Such impatience was so rare with Lady Haigh that Cecil sank into an -awed silence, and sentimentalised no more over the island. The second -part of the voyage proved to be as safe and pleasant as the first part -had been disastrous, and the captain was merciful enough to make only -short halts at Bushire and Mohammerah. When Basra was reached, it was -found that the services of the gunboat were not yet available, and as -there was little in the town, half-busy and half-ruinous, to allure to -a longer stay, Lady Haigh swallowed her pride sufficiently to let -Charlie take passage for the party in one of the steamers plying to -Baghdad. They were again the only passengers, and were accorded a sort -of semi-royal honour which amused the two younger members of the party -very much, but which seemed only natural to Lady Haigh. The river -voyage was very pleasant, especially when they left behind the -Shat-el-Arab, which was scarcely to be distinguished from the sea, and -entered the Tigris. Villages half hidden in forests of palm, long rows -of black Bedouin tents pitched in the more open spaces, and the people -themselves, wild and suspicious enough, but rudely prosperous and in a -way well-dressed, afforded constant interest to Cecil. Even better was -the distant view of the mountains of Luristan, which was obtained -about mid-way in the journey, the lofty summits covered with perpetual -snow towering above the nearer expanse of feathery green and the -swiftly flowing river at its foot. Cecil sat so long trying in vain to -reproduce in a sketch the full effect of the contrast that she worked -on into the twilight, and was forced at last to desist with a -headache. Upon discovering this fact, Charlie showed himself so -assiduous in moving her deck-chair about for her, and in trying to -arrange her cushions more comfortably, that the sight seemed to -irritate Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” she said at last to Cecil, “you will never be better on -deck here. You are tired out. Go to bed at once, and then you will -wake up fresh and well to-morrow.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil smiled an assent, and after wishing the others good night, -disappeared into her cabin. Lady Haigh waited impatiently until she -had been gone some little time. -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie,” she said at last, in a low voice, “I want to speak to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, Cousin Elma?” he made answer, without any suspicious show of -alacrity. “What a start you gave me, though! I was thinking.” -</p> - -<p> -“What about?” asked Lady Haigh, sharply. Then, as his eyes -involuntarily sought the direction in which Cecil had disappeared, -“The usual subject, I suppose? Charlie, I always foretold that when -you did fall in love you would go in very far indeed, but I didn’t -guess how far it would be. This is what comes of not caring for -ladies’ society.” -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly. One lady is enough for me,” he returned—“present company -always excepted, Cousin Elma, of course. But seriously, did you ever -know any one like Miss Anstruther?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now we are well launched into the subject on which I wished to speak -to you,” said Lady Haigh. “Allow me, Charlie, as being in a certain -sense Miss Anstruther’s guardian, to ask you your intentions?” -</p> - -<p> -“To speak to her to-morrow if I can only get her alone, and marry her -as soon as possible, if she will have me,” he replied, promptly. -</p> - -<p> -“So I thought. Well, Charlie, all I have to say is that you are to do -nothing of the kind, however often you may manage to see her alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, Cousin Elma, I believe that Miss Anstruther is of age, and -capable of managing her own affairs.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t put on that high and mighty manner, Charlie. I am advising you -for your good and hers. Do you know anything of the footing on which -Miss Anstruther stands here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Once or twice she has mentioned some sort of agreement to remain a -certain time, but I imagine it would not be difficult to get that set -aside.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear boy, that is all you know about it! Miss Anstruther is -solemnly pledged to remain in this situation for two years. In some -sort of way, I am her security for doing so. Now, I ask you, as an -honourable man, would you be acting rightly if you induced her to -break this agreement, or could you respect her if she showed herself -willing to break it in order to marry a man of whose very existence -she was not aware when she signed it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, Cousin Elma. I will be satisfied with a two years’ -engagement, then.” -</p> - -<p> -“You will have nothing of the sort with which to be satisfied, -Charlie. I will not allow you to speak to Miss Anstruther until the -two years are over. Then, if you like, you can say what you want to -say before she signs the second agreement to serve for three years -more. I will leave the matter in her hands then, and you shall have -your chance, but you are not to speak to her now.” -</p> - -<p> -“And may I ask the reason of this extraordinary prohibition?” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie’s tone was dogged and haughty, but Lady Haigh answered -unflinchingly. -</p> - -<p> -“Consider, my dear boy. Let us suppose first that Cecil accepts you. -You know that she is in a very delicate position, and will need in any -case to walk very warily. You know what the Baghdadis are, you know -the miserable scandals which circulate so wonderfully among the -foreign colony in such a town as this. To have her name connected with -yours would at once destroy all the poor girl’s chances of success, -while afterwards her position will be more assured and she will know -better what she is doing. Leave her in peace for these two years, -Charlie; surely it is not such a very great thing to do for her sake? -It is important for her to obtain her salary undiminished, too. You -will see her once a-week at least, so you will know that she is well -and happy, but don’t disturb her in her work by trying to make her -fond of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“What next?” cried Charlie. “But you know she might refuse me, Cousin -Elma. What then?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think it is most probable that she would. She takes an interest in -you, Charlie, but I don’t believe she cares for you at all in the way -you want. Well, you know that she is to spend Sunday at the Residency -whenever she is at Baghdad. Now do you think that she would find any -peace and comfort in her Sundays if she were always obliged to meet a -rejected lover with reproachful eyes? You would make her life a burden -to her.” -</p> - -<p> -“I might go away,” he murmured, dolefully enough, for it is one thing -to despair of your own chances, and quite another to have them -pronounced hopeless by some one else. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; and sacrifice your prospects irretrievably just as Sir Dugald -has got you this post, in the hope that you would do better here with -him than you have hitherto. I suppose you would intend such a move as -a gentle intimation to poor Miss Anstruther that your ruin lay at her -door? No, don’t be furious, my dear boy; I only say it looks like it. -You would go away with some of those wild Arabs or Kurds, I presume; -but would that be much better than living a civilised life at Baghdad, -and seeing Cecil every Sunday?” -</p> - -<p> -“You are too horribly practical and calculating, Cousin Elma. Not to -speak to her for two years is dreadful. How can I stand it?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s better than being refused, at any rate,” said Lady Haigh. “But -you know, Charlie, I can’t promise that she will listen to you then, -even if she has learnt to care for you. She is a very conscientious -girl, and quite feels, I believe, that she has a special mission -here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hang missions!” cried Charlie, rebelliously. “Pretty girls have no -business with them. Why can’t they leave them to ugly old women?” -</p> - -<p> -“Like myself, I suppose?” said Lady Haigh. “Thank you, Charlie—no, -don’t apologise. Well, you see if Cecil believes that she has a -mission to finish Azim Bey’s education, she will probably feel bound -to continue it for the five years specified. If she thinks it her -duty, I believe she will do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“So do I,” said Charlie, seriously. “I had rather not be weighed in -the scale against Miss Anstruther’s duty. I’m afraid I should go to -the wall. But five years, Cousin Elma! Do you know how old I shall be -then?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense!” cried Lady Haigh; “what’s five years at your time of life? -It’s we old people who can’t spare it. Why, anything may happen in -five years.” -</p> - -<p> -A good deal was to happen, more than either Charlie or Lady Haigh -anticipated. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Charlie, “at least I shall see her once a-week. I must -live on that, I suppose, and endure the rest of my time. Now, Cousin -Elma, I have listened to you a good deal, so you must just listen to -me a moment. Did you ever know a girl like her, so sweet and gentle, -and so awfully good? I believe she could do anything she liked with -me, and she doesn’t see it a bit. You know what I mean; she doesn’t -seem to understand compliments, she always wants to talk sense. And -the worst of it is, that whatever I say now she never thinks I’m in -earnest. I know it’s my fault; you’ve told me over and over again not -to talk so fast, but I can’t help it when—well, when I particularly -want to make a good impression, you know, and now she won’t take me -seriously. And I don’t want her to think that I am always playing the -fool,—what can I do?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you ask me,” said Lady Haigh, “I think it is a very good thing, -for your own sake, that you have now two years in which to show Cecil -that you really are in earnest. She has always taken life very -seriously, so that you are rather a new experience to her, you see; -but I think she is beginning to understand you better, if that is any -comfort to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks awfully, Cousin Elma. I know it’s all my own fault. You -mustn’t think I want to reflect on her. She’s unique, but she’s -absolutely perfect.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie, Charlie, you are a sad fellow!” cried Lady Haigh. “Now, -good night.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch07"> -CHAPTER VII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">“IN INMOST BAGDAT.”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">My</span> last day of this!” said Charlie to himself the next morning, as -he went on deck. It was a sad thought, and he tried hard to be duly -miserable, but the morning was so fine and the air so clear that he -could not help whistling, in a sort of sympathy with nature; and then -Cecil came on deck, looking as bright and fresh as the day, her -headache all gone, and it became his duty to invite her to join him in -a promenade, since the morning was a little chilly. It was impossible -to feel melancholy long under such circumstances, and he soon found -himself rattling away in his usual style, and predicting all kinds of -delightful times at Baghdad. Lady Haigh, having once declared her -pleasure, had perfect confidence in Charlie’s sense of honour, and was -even a little sorry for him, and therefore she did not declare that -she and Cecil were busy, and send him off to talk to the captain, a -perverse habit which she had developed of late, but allowed him to -remain beside her, and instruct Cecil in the habits and folk-lore of -the wild tribes on the river-banks. Thus the day passed pleasantly -until, towards evening, Cecil, who was looking ahead, uttered a cry of -delight as the steamer swung round a bend in the river. Before them -lay Baghdad, bathed in the sunset light, which brought out in all -their brilliance the green and turquoise hues of the tiles with which -the domes of the mosques were inlaid, and the gilded casing of the -minarets; while other buildings, ordinarily most prosaic and unlovely, -looked mysterious and beautiful rising from the sea of foliage which -everywhere surrounded them. Palm, orange, and pomegranate trees filled -the gardens which spread over the flat country as far as eye could -reach, and even the ruined walls of the city, emerging here and there -from the expanse of green, lost their meanness and looked imposing. -</p> - -<p> -“This is really Baghdad!” said Cecil, with a sigh of contentment. -</p> - -<p> -“And I am sure you are longing to walk through the enchanted streets,” -said Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course,” said Cecil. “When do we land, Lady Haigh? Is it soon?” -</p> - -<p> -“Naturally, the steamer will stop opposite the Residency for us to -land,” said Lady Haigh with dignity. “Don’t worry about your things, -my dear child. Um Yusuf will see to them, and if you really like to -look at Baghdad, it’s a pity you shouldn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -They had reached the city now, and were passing between terraced -gardens, with elaborate gateways leading to the water, and queer, -brightly-painted boats bobbing about in the current. There were -fanciful summer-houses in some of the gardens, and Cecil strained her -eyes to catch a glimpse of the veiled beauties who ought to be -reclining gracefully in the shade. Then came a more crowded quarter, -with old mansions of brown brick overhanging the water, coffee-houses -with highly decorated gables and terraces where companies of men were -sitting smoking and talking, newer-looking dwellings with latticed -balconies, and trees—trees everywhere. Cecil gazed on in breathless -admiration, but her raptures were suddenly interrupted. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s the dear old rag!” cried Lady Haigh, in an ecstasy of mingled -patriotism and affection, and Charlie Egerton took off his hat to the -Union-Jack which floated over the Residency. Cecil awoke from her -dream with a start. The steamer was slowing down as it approached a -great house, standing at the end of a long garden, with a terrace -overlooking the water, and an avenue of aged orange-trees. The flag -scarcely fluttered in the light breeze, and all the garden looked -dreamlike and peaceful. Only on the terrace was there a certain amount -of bustle, and presently a boat put forth from the steps and shot -towards the steamer. From the pomp and circumstance which -characterised this embarkation, Cecil divined that the boat carried -Sir Dugald Haigh, and she began to feel rather nervous. It would be -idle to deny that Charlie’s conversation had infected her with a -certain amount of prejudice against her Majesty’s Consul-General at -Baghdad. For this very reason she had resolved to meet him with an -exaggeratedly open mind, and to look very carefully for his good -points. After all, Lady Haigh’s early devotion and long affection -ought to weigh more than Dr Egerton’s dislike, especially since he was -so notoriously addicted to disagreeing with his superiors. -</p> - -<p> -With this in her mind, Cecil stood observant in the background while -Sir Dugald gained the deck and greeted his wife. She saw a thin, -almost insignificant-looking man, with a skin like parchment, and a -small, carefully-trimmed grey moustache. In his dress there was -visible a precision so extreme as almost to appear affectation, and -his manners were the perfection of elaborate politeness. Sir Dugald -Haigh at Baghdad was eminently the right man in the right place. The -Indian authorities who appointed him knew that he would never wantonly -or ignorantly outrage the prejudices nor shock the susceptibilities of -the most jealous and sensitive oriental; but they knew also, and -rejoiced in the knowledge, that under the silken glove the iron hand -was always ready. Sir Dugald could insist and threaten when it was -necessary—nay, he could even bluster, in a dignified and most -effective way—and the Pashas and Sheikhs with whom he had to deal -knew that, when he had once put his foot down, they might as well try -to shake the Great Pyramid as to move him. -</p> - -<p> -Something of all this Cecil read in her cursory observation of him, -but she had only time to hear Charlie’s muttered remark, “The very -incarnation of red tape!” before she found herself summoned forward by -Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“And this is Miss Anstruther!” said Sir Dugald, as he bowed and shook -hands. There was nothing offensive about the remark—it expressed a -kindly interest, possibly admiration—but Cecil saw Sir Dugald raise -his eyebrows very slightly as he uttered it. Before long she was to -learn to watch his eyebrows narrowly, for they were the most -expressive feature of his face, betraying all the feelings of worry, -impatience, amusement, or concern, which the rest of his visage was -under much too good control to show. Now they said, “Far too young! -Not nearly backbone enough for such a place!” while Sir Dugald’s lips -were saying— -</p> - -<p> -“Welcome to Baghdad, Miss Anstruther! It is a long time since we have -had the honour of a young lady’s company at the Residency.” -</p> - -<p> -Then he greeted Charlie, with a courteous ease of manner, and a kindly -expression of a hope that he had come to stay this time, which made -Cecil decide that if the hope should not be fulfilled, the provocation -would come from Charlie’s side and not from Sir Dugald’s; and then -they went on shore. The Residency proved to be a fine old house, built -round two courtyards, which, as Charlie told Cecil, corresponded to -the account he had given her of the special functions of Sir Dugald -and Lady Haigh, since one was devoted to business and the other to -social purposes. The ground-floor rooms in the family courtyard were -low and dark, but those on the floor above them large and airy, with -broad verandahs supported on curiously carved wooden pillars. Cecil, -casting a hurried glance in at the various doors as Lady Haigh took -her to her room, carried away a confused memory of fretted ceilings -inlaid with coloured marbles, walls panelled with looking-glasses, and -gilded mouldings, and again she sighed with satisfaction. The Baghdad -of good Haroun-al-Raschid had not quite disappeared yet. -</p> - -<p> -Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Cecil was summoned to -the drawing-room to receive a messenger from the Pasha. This proved to -be Ovannes Effendi, his Excellency’s secretary, a clever-looking young -Armenian with a marvellous gift of tongues. He proffered his -employer’s felicitations on mademoiselle’s safe arrival, inquired -anxiously whether she had an agreeable journey, and concluded by -entreating that she would take up her abode in the Palace at her -earliest convenience. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me see,” said Lady Haigh—“this is Saturday. We can’t let you go -before Monday morning, Cecil, but you and I will go and pay our -respects to the Palace ladies this afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -Having received his answer, Ovannes Effendi retired, after formally -presenting Lady Haigh and Cecil, in the Pasha’s name, with several -trays of fruit and sweetmeats which had been carried after him by a -corresponding number of porters. The idea was so thoroughly oriental -that Cecil forgot the untempting nature of the sweetmeats to a Western -taste, and noted the little attention joyfully in her diary. It was -evident that the Pasha, at any rate, was anxious to do all in his -power to show her that she was a welcome guest; but when they prepared -for their visit to the harem that afternoon, she found that Lady Haigh -entertained distinct misgivings as to their reception by the ladies. -</p> - -<p> -“It is our duty to pay them a formal call, my dear,” she said, -vigorously completing an elaborate toilet the while. “I have no doubt -that that horrid woman, the Um-ul-Pasha, will give us a bad half-hour, -but it is better that I should be there to help you to face her.” -</p> - -<p> -To get to the Palace it was necessary to mount ridiculously small -donkeys, which picked their way carefully among the inequalities and -mud-heaps of the narrow winding streets; while a small army of -servants, headed by two gorgeous cavasses in gold-embroidered -liveries, who kept back the crowd with whips, gave the occasion the -dignity which would otherwise have been sorely wanting to it. It was -irritating, if not exactly disappointing, to find on reaching the -Palace that all this grandeur had been wasted, since the answer -returned to their inquiries by the stout negro who kept the door of -the harem, after long colloquies with an invisible maid-servant -within, who was apparently displaying an undue eagerness to catch a -glimpse of the Frangi ladies, was that the Um-ul-Pasha was indisposed, -and that visitors were therefore not received in the harem that day. -</p> - -<p> -“That is all her spite,” said Lady Haigh, as they picked their way -back to their donkeys. “She is no more ill than I am. If she had been -indisposed this morning, Ovannes Effendi would have known it, and told -us not to come, but now she thinks she has slighted you, and given me -a slap in the face. Very well, Nazleh Khanum, we shall see!” -</p> - -<p> -But here, just as they were about to mount, Ovannes Effendi overtook -them, and after expressing the Pasha’s sorrow that their trouble -should have been in vain, begged them to honour his Excellency’s poor -abode by deigning to rest for a few minutes, assuring them that his -employer would be much hurt if they did not. On Lady Haigh’s -acquiescence, he ushered them into a large room furnished in European -style, where they found their old acquaintance, Denarien Bey, talking -to a very stout gentleman in a very tight frock-coat and a fez. Lady -Haigh’s salaam warned Cecil that this was Ahmed Khémi Pasha himself, -and she imitated her friend’s reverence as faithfully as she could -when she was brought forward and presented. The Pasha was all -politeness, evidently anxious to atone for his mother’s incivility, -and insisted on sending for coffee and sherbet at once. While the -refreshments were being consumed, he kept up a slow and stately -conversation with Lady Haigh respecting the journey, pausing with -special care to compose each sentence before uttering it. It was -evident that he had had a purpose in view in inviting them in, for -presently he nodded to Denarien Bey, who took up the conversation in -his turn. Lady Haigh told Cecil afterwards that this was because the -Pasha now disliked intensely speaking French, and was by no means a -master of English, which he was yet too proud to speak badly. -</p> - -<p> -“His Excellency’s heart is much rejoiced by this happy meeting, -mademoiselle,” said Denarien Bey; “since he can now impress upon you -certain cautions which you will find all-important in your new -sphere.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will do my best to conform to his Excellency’s wishes,” murmured -Cecil, nervously. -</p> - -<p> -“First, as regards your own position, mademoiselle. You are aware that -the state of public opinion here obliges you and your pupil always to -remain in the harem while you are at the Palace, while yet it is from -the harem that the gravest dangers threaten the life of Azim Bey.” He -glanced rather fearfully at the Pasha as he said this, but meeting -only a nod of acquiescence, went on. “It has therefore been arranged, -mademoiselle, that the quarters occupied by yourself, the Bey, and -your attendants, shall be in a separate courtyard, to which none but -yourselves shall have access. Thus, while technically in the harem, -you will in reality be separated from it, and the door will be guarded -by a negro called Aga Masûd, who was the faithful attendant of the -Bey’s late mother. His special duty will be to prevent the entrance of -emissaries from the harem. It is his Excellency’s most earnest wish -that Azim Bey should never cross the threshold of the harem but in -your charge, and that while there you should never let him out of your -sight. The slaves are not to be trusted.” -</p> - -<p> -He said this apologetically, and as if in explanation, but Cecil knew -that he was pointing at much more exalted persons than the slaves. It -was the Um-ul-Pasha and his Excellency’s wives who were not to be -trusted with the life of the boy so nearly related to them, and she -began to feel more than ever the great responsibility of her post. -After a few more unimportant remarks, Lady Haigh rose to go, but the -Pasha detained her, begging Cecil also to remain. -</p> - -<p> -“I have sent for my son,” he said, “and I hear him coming.” -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, there appeared in the doorway a small thin boy, looking -like a miniature edition of the Pasha in his long black coat, with his -dark, solemn, old little face surmounted by the usual tasselled cap. -When he saw Cecil, his expression brightened suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>C’est enfin Mdlle. Antaza!</i>” he cried, in an ecstasy of delight, and -he ran forward and salaamed, raising her hand to her lips. The Pasha -interposed, and reminded him to salute Lady Haigh, which he did, and -then retired behind his father’s chair, watching Cecil all the while -with grave, unchildlike eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“You will come soon, mademoiselle?” he said entreatingly as they took -their leave. “When my father is busy I have no one now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle is coming on Monday, Bey,” said Lady Haigh kindly, and -the boy looked somewhat comforted. With his father and Denarien Bey he -escorted the two ladies to the gate, and they rode home quietly, Cecil -pondering over what she had seen of the Pasha and his little son. But -it was strange how completely the Residency was like home to her -already. It seemed to be a bit of England, and when once she had -crossed its threshold again, the Palace and its occupants were like -the fabric of a dream, while Sir Dugald, Charlie Egerton, and one or -two Englishmen who happened to be passing through Baghdad, and were -staying at the Residency, took their places. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, what do you think of our friend Sir Hector Stubble?” Charlie -asked her that evening, when they were sitting out on the verandah -after dinner. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose you mean Sir Dugald,” said Cecil, “and I don’t like the -name. I think Lord Stratford de Redcliffe was a splendid man, and I -never can forgive Grenville Murray for drawing him so unfairly. I -suppose the fact is that he saw him in the light of his own -grievances, just as you look at Sir Dugald through the medium of your -prejudice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a prejudice, Miss Anstruther, honestly not,” said Charlie. “We -are antagonistic by nature, and we rub each other the wrong way -already. You would scarcely think we had had time to have words -together yet, would you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Already?” said Cecil. “It’s absurd!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Charlie, “I told him that the hospital was quite behind -the times, and horribly short of stores, and he as good as refused to -do anything to it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly,” said Cecil, “he did not relish the stores being demanded -in a your-money-or-your-life sort of tone.” Charlie laughed -uncomfortably. -</p> - -<p> -“You always contrive to put me in the wrong, Miss Anstruther. The fact -is, he said one ought to be very careful with public money, and that -he was not prepared to sanction the expenditure of any more at -present. Then the prison, it is not in a particularly sanitary -condition——” -</p> - -<p> -“But that can’t be Sir Dugald’s fault,” objected Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t mean the town prison; I haven’t been poaching on the -Pasha’s preserves just yet. I mean our private prison here, in the -Residency. Now, Miss Anstruther, don’t say that you will never be able -to dine here again in peace, on account of the shrieks of tortured -victims ringing in your ears in the pauses in the conversation. The -place isn’t so bad as all that. In fact, I daresay it’s a model jail, -as things are here.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you forget that you are in your beloved unchanging East, where no -one makes any reforms,” said Cecil. “I am very sorry that you have -taken this prejudice against Sir Dugald. I think he is a delightful -man, and so kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“How could he be otherwise than kind to you?” Charlie wished to know. -“It is to his unfortunate subordinates that he shows his other side.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I have no doubt they deserve it,” retorted Cecil, crushingly. “I -do hope you will try to get on with him, and not start with the idea -that you are bound to quarrel with him, because you have got on badly -with your superiors before. If you are determined to bring about a -dispute, I suppose it will certainly come, no matter how forbearing -Sir Dugald may be, but that is not a very wise spirit in which to set -to work. Surely you must see it yourself, don’t you? This is really an -excellent chance for you, you know, and Lady Haigh will be dreadfully -disappointed if you throw it away.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I mean to stick to the place,” said Charlie eagerly, somewhat to -Cecil’s surprise. “I do really intend to stay on, unless I am driven -away. But you must let me have the privilege of telling my woes to -you, Miss Anstruther, and getting a lecture in return. I take to -lectures as a duck takes to water; you ask Cousin Elma.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil laughed, and as Lady Haigh came just then to ask her to sing, -she had no more talk with Charlie. The next day was her first Sunday -in Baghdad, the prototype of nearly all her Sundays for five years. -There was an English service, conducted by Mr Schad, the colleague of -Dr Yehudi in his mission-work among the Jews, and Cecil felt that she -had never fully appreciated the beauty of the Liturgy until she heard -it read, with a strong German accent, in this far land. It took her -back to her father’s beautiful church at Whitcliffe, and to the dingy -and ornate edifice in a city street, which she had attended in her -school-days, and it linked her with the services held in both places -to-day. She treasured every hour of that Sunday, which slipped by all -too quickly, and left her to face the duties and responsibilities of -her new position. -</p> - -<p> -On the Monday morning she dressed herself, with great reluctance, in -her official costume, lamenting that she could not wear European -dress, as she might have done without difficulty in Constantinople or -Smyrna. But, after all, the long loose gown, falling straight from the -shoulders, and only caught in at the waist with a striped sash, would -be very comfortable in the hot weather, though the wide, trailing -sleeves would be dreadfully in the way. What Cecil disliked most in -the costume was the head-dress, a little round cap, with a gauze veil, -which could be brought over the face in case of need, depending from -it behind. To wear this it was necessary that the hair should be -plaited in a number of little tails, and allowed to hang down, since -any arrangement of coils must interfere either with the cap or with -the flow of the veil. For outdoor wear there was provided a huge linen -wrapper, which enveloped the wearer from head to foot, but Cecil had -resolutely refused to don the hideous horse-hair mask worn under this -by the Baghdadi ladies. The absurdity of her appearance so overcame -her while dressing, that she projected a caricature of herself for the -benefit of the children at home; but even then she did not realise the -difficulty of shuffling through the courtyard in her yellow slippers, -and of mounting the donkey which was waiting for her. Lady Haigh had -mercifully got all the gentlemen out of the way; but her own mirth was -contagious, and she and Cecil relapsed into little explosions of -laughter several times in the street. -</p> - -<p> -Arrived at the Palace, they were conducted to a miniature courtyard, -the buildings around which bore traces of having been lately painted -and done up. The gate occupied the greater part of one side, guarded -by the faithful Masûd, a gigantic and particularly ugly negro. The -rooms on the other three sides were like those at the Residency, low -and mean-looking on the ground-floor, but large and lofty above. -</p> - -<p> -“The apartments of Azim Bey,” said their guide, a tall Circassian -woman who spoke French, with a wave of her hand towards the rooms on -the right; “the apartments of mademoiselle,” indicating those on the -left; “the Bey Effendi’s study and reception-room,” showing that in -the middle. -</p> - -<p> -“We will look at your rooms, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh, and they mounted -the stairs leading to the verandah. The “apartments” were three in -number, and comprised a bedroom and sitting-room for Cecil, and a -bedroom for Um Yusuf, opening out of her mistress’s. Another staircase -led from the verandah to the roof, which was flat and surrounded by a -parapet, with several orange-trees in great pots to give shade in hot -weather. -</p> - -<p> -“But you won’t be able to stay up here when it is really hot, Cecil,” -said Lady Haigh, “except just at night. You will have to spend the day -in the cellars. We do it ourselves—every one does in Baghdad—and -it’s not often that the thermometer is more than 88° down there.” -</p> - -<p> -They descended from the roof and entered the rooms. The bedroom -furniture was evidently a “complete suite,” of the most -highly-polished mahogany, imported from Europe at some trouble and -expense. The things in the sitting-room were of the same style, but -one or two chairs seemed not to have survived the journey, for their -places were filled by a common Windsor arm-chair, and a very ornate -Louis XV. <i>fauteuil</i>, with gilded and twisted legs. On a side-table -was a gorgeous gilt clock, which did not go, and the walls were -decorated with fearful oleographs, and one or two theatrical -portraits, which the guide pointed out with great pride. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Cecil, my dear,” said Lady Haigh, sitting down in the gilt -chair, while the two servants retired into the verandah. “I think you -will be very comfortable here. I see that they have forgotten one or -two things, but I will send you those from the Residency. I am very -glad that you have Basmeh Kalfa to superintend your little household. -She was head <i>kalfa</i> (which means an upper slave) to Azim Bey’s -mother, so she will look after you well. You will have to be careful -just at first, until you get into the ways of the place. Be sure if -you ever come to the Residency in European dress to put on that sheet -over it. It will pass muster in the streets. And do mind never to go -outside your own courtyard without the sheet on. This place is your -castle, you know, and not even the Pasha dare put his nose in without -your consent. If you should hear rather a commotion at the gate, and -Masûd comes striding along, shouting <i>Dastûr! Dastûr!</i> at the top -of his voice, pull your veil over your face at once. <i>Dastûr</i> means -“custom,” and is the warning that a man is coming. It will probably be -the Pasha coming to see how the Bey is getting on with his lessons, or -some old man who comes to teach him the Koran, but be sure you -remember. And, my dearest child, you must never go anywhere without Um -Yusuf. She must be always with you—in lesson-time, recreation, coming -to us, everything. You must never be impatient, and think she is -spying upon you. It is her duty to keep you always in sight, and she -knows it. And now I must be going. Basmeh Kalfa, I leave Mademoiselle -Antaza and her nurse in your charge. Take care of them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Upon my head be it, O my lady,” responded Basmeh Kalfa, impassively. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch08"> -CHAPTER VIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Lady Haigh</span> was gone, and Cecil felt very desolate. Everything seemed -so new and strange, and she was so far removed from every familiar -face, except the severe and respectable one of Um Yusuf, that she felt -almost inclined to sit down and mourn over her isolation, but she had -too much to do. With Um Yusuf’s help she set to work to unpack her -possessions, and speedily found that the proceeding was an object of -interest to the other denizens of the courtyard. Basmeh Kalfa took a -seat on the floor uninvited, and made remarks on the things as they -were lifted out; and Ayesha, Azim Bey’s nurse, who was also a -privileged person, came across from the building opposite, and posted -herself in an advantageous position. Hovering on the verandah were -several black women, the under-servants of the establishment, who had -forsaken their work and come to see the show; and Masûd himself was -hard put to it to restrain his curiosity sufficiently to keep his post -at the gate. None of the interested watchers offered to help in any -way, but all commented audibly on the strange things they saw, and -especially on the books and photographs. They were particularly amazed -and delighted by the transformation effected in the sitting-room with -the help of a hammer and nails, some folding bookshelves, a bracket or -two, and some extra pictures, and it began to look quite habitable to -Cecil herself. There were still two or three large cases containing -the books and school-appliances which had been ordered for Azim Bey to -be unpacked, and she went with Um Yusuf, attended by her admiring -train, to see whether there was any place for their contents in the -room pointed out by Basmeh Kalfa as the Bey’s “study.” Here there was -a raised dais, occupying about half the floor, and covered with a rich -Kurdish carpet, the lower part of the room being matted. On the dais -was the divan, covered with thick silk, and amply furnished with -cushions of various sizes. There were two or three little inlaid -octagonal tables scattered about, but no other furniture, and the -walls were decorated with arabesque designs and inscriptions from the -Koran. To desecrate such a room with prosaic blackboards and raised -maps could not be thought of, and Cecil decided to wait to unpack them -until she could consult her pupil as to their arrangement. -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey was absent with his father on an expedition to visit his -married sister at Hillah, the ancient Babylon, and Cecil did not see -him at all that day, so that she and Um Yusuf had tea together in -solitary state. She spent the evening in writing home, describing her -new abode fully for the benefit of her brothers and sisters, and went -to bed early; for although candles were provided, no light was visible -in any of the surrounding buildings, and silence reigned over the -Palace. It seemed very lonely and unsafe, in a strange house, to sleep -in a room with open windows and doors that would not lock; and Um -Yusuf dutifully placed her bed against her mistress’s door, so as to -be able to repel any attempted invasion, but none came. -</p> - -<p> -The next day Cecil awoke early. It was a fine cool morning, and the -sun was shining brightly, tempting her out of doors. As soon as she -was dressed she went down into the garden, followed by Um Yusuf, to be -greeted by a squeal of delight from her pupil, who rushed to meet her -and presented her with a large and formal bouquet. He had evidently -been tormenting the gardener with questions as to the why and -wherefore of things, for Cecil fancied that she saw an expression of -relief on that functionary’s face as he withdrew discreetly and -precipitately when he saw the veiled figures. Azim Bey walked solemnly -beside his governess for a little way, pointing out the beauties of -the garden, then, with a side-glance up at her face, he stole a little -brown hand into hers and remarked— -</p> - -<p> -“You are my mademoiselle, and I know I shall like you. I have had no -one kind to talk to for a whole year, ever since my sister Naimeh -Khanum was married to Said Bey and went to live at Hillah, except my -father, and he is always busy. But you are going to stay here, and you -will tell me everything I want to know. Denarien Bey has told me that -you have many brothers, and you will tell me about them, won’t you? -When shall we begin lessons, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“As soon as you like,” said Cecil, smiling, for it was refreshing to -meet with a boy who looked forward to lessons with pleasure, and then -she unfolded her difficulty with respect to the school furniture. To -her amusement Azim Bey took her doubts as an insult. -</p> - -<p> -“But yes, mademoiselle, of course I want all the books and maps in my -reception-room. It is to be made to look like a schoolroom; I will -have it exactly like a schoolroom in England. The things shall be -unpacked and put there at once.” -</p> - -<p> -And he hurried her back to the house, summoned sundry servants, and -set them to work to open and unpack the cases. Cecil expected that he -would offer to help in the work, but he was far too fully conscious of -his rank for that, and sat solemnly on the divan beside her, issuing -his orders. Nor would he allow her to help either, for when she -started up to show the servants by example the proper way of putting -up a blackboard, he desired her peremptorily not to incommode herself, -but to tell him what was wanted and he would direct the servants. At -last, after the expenditure of much breath on the part of Azim Bey, -and some fruitless impatience on that of Cecil, the work was done, and -the walls of the great room decorated with maps and charts and tables. -A large supply of books was neatly arranged on the dais until -bookshelves could be procured, and in the lower part of the room were -placed a regular school-desk and seat for the pupil, and a high desk -and chair for the teacher, together with the blackboard, which Azim -Bey regarded with loving eyes. He wanted to set to work at once, but -Cecil, seeing old Ayesha looking at her distressfully, suggested -mildly that they should breakfast first, since she had only had a cup -of tea on rising. Her pupil assented graciously, and breakfast was -brought in on trays which were placed on two little tables, one for -Cecil and one for Azim Bey, while Um Yusuf, the nurse, and one or two -other women-servants sat down in the lower part of the room to await -their turn. -</p> - -<p> -After breakfast lessons began, and Cecil found that her pupil knew -nothing whatever of English, and must begin that, as well as most -other subjects, from the beginning. He could read Arabic and Turkish, -however, and his French astonished her. It was so fluent, so -idiomatic, so exceedingly up-to-date, so freely sprinkled with -Parisian slang, that she wondered where he could have picked it up. -</p> - -<p> -“From M. Karalampi, who was once attached to the French Consulate,” he -told her,—“and elsewhere,” he added, with a meaning look which made -her wonder. -</p> - -<p> -The first morning was a type of all that followed. Azim Bey’s day -began with a visit to his father while he dressed, when he employed -his time in asking the impossible questions dear to the heart of small -boys all the world over, which the Pasha now generally parried by -referring him to Mademoiselle Antaza. A walk in the garden, and -breakfast with mademoiselle, followed this, and then came lessons. As -a learner, Azim Bey was almost perfect. He was so quick that Cecil -felt thankful that he knew so little to begin with, or she would have -been afraid of his outstripping her. As it was, she foresaw a time -when she would have to study hard to keep ahead of him, and this made -her rejoice that she had arranged with Miss Arbuthnot to keep her -supplied with the newest works on the principal subjects which she -taught. -</p> - -<p> -But the care of her pupil in lesson-time was the least of Cecil’s -duties. The lonely little fellow attached himself to his governess in -the most marvellous way, and would scarcely allow her out of his -sight. When she went to the Residency on Sundays he moped so -persistently all day that the Pasha was almost tempted to give -permission for him to accompany her there, but refrained, partly for -fear of his being made a Christian, but much more for fear of the -outcry which would be raised on the subject by the Baghdadi zealots. -Wherever the Bey went, Cecil must go. Even if he appeared at any State -function in the Pasha’s hall of audience, she must be present as a -spectator in the latticed gallery which was appropriated to the ladies -of the harem, so that she might be ready afterwards to answer his -questions and appreciate his remarks, while he never went out without -her except in his father’s company. Her influence over him became -generally recognised, until at last even the Um-ul-Pasha, who had -taken no notice of her whatever since her unsuccessful call with Lady -Haigh, began to consider her a power to be reckoned with. The amiable -old lady had been so busy of late in carrying on a secret -correspondence with her eldest grandson, the rebellious Hussein Bey, -and in keeping him supplied with money, that she had paid slight -attention to the little household, which was theoretically in the -harem, yet not of it, and it struck her now with considerable force -that she had allowed herself to commit a great mistake in tactics. -</p> - -<p> -The first intimation Cecil received of a change of front on the part -of the Um-ul-Pasha was a formal invitation to attend the great lady’s -reception with her pupil on the day of Bairam. Such an invitation was -equivalent to a command, and it was furthermore imperative that Azim -Bey should pay his respects to his grandmother at the feast, lest it -should be inferred that she had utterly cast off both the Pasha and -himself, and Cecil therefore prepared to go. Etiquette required that -Um Yusuf, old Ayesha, and Basmeh Kalfa should go too, and they were -all escorted by Masûd to the door of the harem, where he delivered -them into the charge of the principal aga. -</p> - -<p> -It was now May, and the ladies were occupying the summer harem, a -pleasant English-looking building, standing in a flower-garden, and -furnished partly in European style. It was too early in the day as yet -for any but family visitors, but the Pasha had already paid his -respects to his mother and departed. The Um-ul-Pasha sat in the seat -of honour, the corner of the divan, in the great reception-room, with -the Pasha’s two wives beside her. One of these ladies was an invalid, -the other gentle and easy-going, and both were entirely under the -dominion of their mother-in-law, an imperious little tyrant with a -withered face and bright black eyes. It was easy to imagine what a -flutter Azim Bey’s impetuous, high-spirited Arab mother must have -caused in the dove-cotes here, and with what feelings the other wives -must have regarded their supplanter, and the Um-ul-Pasha the rebel -against her authority. Nothing of this was allowed to appear now, -however. Azim Bey kissed the hands of the ladies, who each made some -carefully uncomplimentary remark, either on his appearance or -dress—remarks which would have wounded Cecil’s feelings if she had -not known that they were made with the view of averting the evil eye. -The three servants kissed the hems of the ladies’ robes, and passed on -to join the throng of their intimates in the lower part of the room, -and Cecil, after a deep reverence to each of the exalted personages, -was graciously requested to sit down. She was used to sitting on -cushions on the floor by this time, and obeyed at once, while the -Um-ul-Pasha prepared to talk to her through the medium of Mademoiselle -Katrina, a plump Levantine lady in a red and green silk dress, who -lived in the harem, and acted as secretary, interpreter, and messenger -to the great lady. The customary compliments and a few unimportant -remarks were first exchanged, and then the Um-ul-Pasha came to -business. -</p> - -<p> -“You are English, are you not?” she asked through Mdlle. Katrina. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil answered in the affirmative. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it true that it is the custom in your country for young people to -settle about their marriage for themselves, without their parents -arranging the matter?” was the next question, to which also Cecil -returned an unsuspecting reply, all unprepared for what was to follow. -</p> - -<p> -“Then why are you not married?” asked the Um-ul-Pasha, bending her -black brows on her visitor, much as Um Yusuf had done in asking the -same question. The query was certainly an embarrassing one, and Cecil -answered blushingly that in England it was customary for the gentleman -to take the initiative in matters of the kind, and, well——. But it -was unnecessary for her to say any more, the inference was obvious, -and the expression on the Um-ul-Pasha’s face, faithfully copied on the -countenances of the other ladies, and respectfully reflected on that -of Mdlle. Katrina, said, “And no wonder!” It was an uncomfortable -moment, and to make the situation still more awkward, some mischievous -sprite prompted Azim Bey to put in a remark on his own account. -</p> - -<p> -“When I am grown up, <i>I</i> shall marry mademoiselle,” he said, in his -shrill little voice, and then sat and hugged himself in happy -consciousness of the bombshell he had thrown into the group. Cecil -would have felt a keen pleasure at the moment in shaking him, and his -grandmother’s fingers twitched as though she longed to have him by the -throat. Mdlle. Katrina seemed actually to grow pale and shrunken with -horror, and the other two ladies subsided into limp heaps on their -cushions, murmuring breathless exclamations of terror and dismay. It -was the Um-ul-Pasha who recovered herself first, and she hailed the -opportunity of administering a snub to her grandson and his governess -at the same time. -</p> - -<p> -“You speak foolishly, Bey,” she said, in her haughtiest tones, “and I -am surprised that Mdlle. Antaza has not taught you better. She knows -very well that if I had not full confidence in her integrity, I should -advise my son, your father, to send her back to her own country at -once on account of that foolish speech of yours. As it is, such -nonsense as this makes me doubtful of the wisdom of keeping her here.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil flushed hotly, and would have risen and taken her departure, but -her pupil answered without the slightest trace of confusion. -</p> - -<p> -“But you always hated her coming, madame, and when my father refused -to listen to you, you would not eat anything for a whole day. It is my -father who has brought mademoiselle here, and he will not send her -away.” -</p> - -<p> -“Bey, don’t be rude to your grandmother,” said Cecil, reprovingly, and -the entrance of coffee and cakes here relieved the tension of the -situation. The Um-ul-Pasha became markedly gracious once more, and -insisted upon taking a sip from Cecil’s cup, and breaking a piece from -her cake, to show her good faith, but the only effect which this -exaggerated affability produced upon those chiefly concerned was -expressed by Azim Bey’s remark to his governess as they departed— -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle, the Um-ul-Pasha is intending something. It is not -poison this time; I wonder when we shall know what it is! Did you hear -my grandmother say to Mdlle. Katrina as we came away, ‘When the wife -of the Balio Bey comes, see that she is admitted when no other -visitors are present’? So you will hear all about it from the Mother -of Teeth.” -</p> - -<p> -“You know that I have told you not to speak of Lady Haigh by that -name, Bey,” said Cecil, severely. “The wife of the Balio Bey should -always be mentioned with respect.” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Dugald Haigh was the Balio Bey, the word being a corruption of -<i>bailo</i>, the title of the Venetian Ambassador to the Porte in the -middle ages, and the name spoke volumes to every inhabitant of -Baghdad, so that Azim Bey submitted to the correction meekly. As he -had prophesied, Cecil heard from Lady Haigh a full account of her -interview with the Um-ul-Pasha when they next met, on the occasion of -Queen Victoria’s birthday, which fell close after Bairam that year, -and on which all the English in the region kept holiday. Cecil spent -the day at the Residency, as it had been carefully specified in her -agreement with the Pasha that she should do, and she did not feel at -all averse from a short return to civilised dress and English society. -Lady Haigh told her the story in the evening, when they had a few -minutes to spare before the arrival of the guests for the dinner-party -which was <i>de rigueur</i> on the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -“I have simply laughed over it ever since, my dear,” said Lady Haigh; -“but I must tell it you quickly, or these people will be coming. Put -in plain language, the Um-ul-Pasha is willing to give you a handsome -outfit and dowry if you marry at once, just as if you were one of her -own favourite attendants.” -</p> - -<p> -“And was any particular gentleman indicated?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly; it is Ovannes Effendi, the Pasha’s secretary. Nazleh -Khanum put the case very plainly from her own point of view. She said -that you had evidently failed to get married in your own country, or -you would not have come out here, and that you were wretchedly thin, -and had no idea of improving either your eyes or your complexion. As -for Ovannes Effendi, she said that he was in a good position, and -would make a kind husband. He was also a Christian—she laid great -stress upon that point of suitability—and could be trusted to marry -thankfully any lady the Um-ul-Pasha might be pleased to recommend to -him.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what did you say?” asked Cecil, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, my dear, I said that I was much obliged to Nazleh Khanum for -her kind intentions, but that I intended to make your settlement in -life my concern. I said that I had no doubt whatever of being able to -find you a husband as soon as ever you wanted one. In fact, I repaid -the Um-ul-Pasha with interest for the slight she put upon us when you -first came. I had to put it in oriental style, you see, or she -wouldn’t have understood it, but it makes me laugh whenever I think of -it. Imagine the luckless Ovannes Effendi suddenly saddled with a -London B.A. for a wife! Oh, there are those people! Let us go into the -drawing-room.” -</p> - -<p> -The dinner-party over, a number of other people came in who had been -invited to a garden-<i>fête</i>, a style of entertainment to which the -grounds of the Residency were peculiarly adapted. Carpets and cushions -were strewn upon the terraces, the buildings were all illuminated, and -to crown all, there were two bands of music, European and native, -playing against each other, so as to satisfy every taste. The evening -was to close with a grand display of fireworks, and Cecil, looking for -a spot whence she might obtain a good view, found Charlie Egerton by -her side. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s a capital place here,” he said, “and just room for two. I -haven’t spoken to you all day, and I’ve scarcely seen you all the -evening.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you ought to be helping Sir Dugald to entertain the guests,” said -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“But you are a guest,” he retorted, quickly, “and the rest have the -fireworks to entertain them. Besides, have you no compassion for the -sorrows of a poor wretch who has been trying in vain to entertain two -wholly unsympathetic ladies at the same time during the whole evening, -and could only approach success by making Mrs Hagopidan laugh at -Madame Denarien, and Madame Denarien feel shocked at Mrs Hagopidan?” -</p> - -<p> -“What a very edifying conversation!” laughed Cecil. “But I saw you -talking to Madame Petroffsky part of the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Only for a moment, and the merest politenesses, I assure you. I can’t -bear emancipated women, they are all so dreadfully alike. Now don’t -take up the cudgels for them, please, Miss Anstruther. I have no doubt -that Anna Ivanovna is an excellent person, but she is not my ideal. -Besides, we quarrelled the last time we had an argument, and I hear -that she speaks of me now as <i>ce lourdaud de médecin anglais</i>. Could -a self-respecting man be expected to put up with that?” -</p> - -<p> -“But the other two are not like her,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed,” said Charlie. “Her worst enemy could not call Madame -Denarien an emancipated woman. By the way, what a comment it is on -Denarien’s modern culture and occidental tastes! He marries a girl -brought up in a Syrian convent, whose teachers have been French nuns -of medieval views. She can repeat a few Latin prayers, work -embroidery, and make sweetmeats, and has pronounced ideas on the -possibility of enhancing her beauty by dyeing her hair and using white -and red paint liberally. But she is absolutely uneducated and can’t -talk a bit. She can sit and smile sweetly, and that is all. A doll -could do as much.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, she is a very fair specimen of the beautiful uneducated Eastern -woman whom you admired so much a short time ago,” said Cecil, -wickedly. “But what can you find to say against Myrta Hagopidan?” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you call each other by your Christian names already?” asked -Charlie, in pretended alarm. “I hope I have not said anything much -against her, Miss Anstruther. I had no idea that you were on such -affectionate terms with our bride.” -</p> - -<p> -“My favourite governess went from the South Central to be principal of -the Poonah High School, where Myrta was educated,” said Cecil, “and -she lives so close to the Palace that I am often able to go in and see -her. You have no idea how delightful it is to have some one with whom -one can talk shop again. One’s school-days are really the happiest -time in one’s life, you know, at least to look back upon. And then she -is so pretty and bright.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” said Charlie, “she is smart, which emancipated women are not, -as a rule. But she is out of her element here. She comes to Baghdad -fresh from her school, brimful of modern notions, and thinks she can -lead society here. It won’t work. The English look askance at her as -being ‘a kind of native, don’t you know?’ and the rest do not -understand her. And really a woman whose happiness depends upon -society and society papers can’t find Baghdad congenial.” -</p> - -<p> -“But her happiness doesn’t depend on them,” said Cecil. “She has a -great many interests, and she helps Mr Hagopidan with all his English -correspondence.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I have misjudged her,” said Charlie. “See how much more clearly -the feminine mind penetrates into character! I generalised hastily -from the fact that Mrs Hagopidan plied me with second-hand Simla -gossip and last season’s Belgravian personalities, which I detest.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor thing!” said Cecil; “she was only trying to suit your tastes. -She never talks to me like that.” -</p> - -<p> -“And now,” went on Charlie, meditatively, “she proves to be an -excellent wife and a clever and businesslike woman.” -</p> - -<p> -“I never like judging people from casual impressions,” said Cecil, -“but sometimes it is very hard not to do it. That tall dark man, for -instance, who is talking to Madame Petroffsky—I don’t like him. I -have seen him once or twice at the Palace, crossing the outer court -with the Pasha, and he always seems to me to be—what shall I -say?—slippery.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should say that you had described him exactly,” said Charlie. “He -is a peculiar product of centuries of contact between European and -Eastern diplomacy, and he is particularly slippery. He is a Levantine -Greek, and his name is Karalampi.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I have heard Azim Bey talk of him,” said Cecil. “He told me he -taught him French.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think Azim Bey may be very thankful that he has got into other -hands,” said Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Why?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, one hears a good deal about Karalampi which one doesn’t care to -repeat, but I can tell you what he is. The Pasha employs him as a spy -on the various consulates, and the consulates use him as a spy on the -Pasha and on each other. How he contrives to play them all off against -one another I don’t know, but I suppose he gives each employer his -turn. He used to be attached to the French Consulate, but no doubt his -present position is more lucrative. He does people’s dirty work for -them. Of course he is not officially employed by any one, but if you -could question Sir Dugald you would find out that more than once M. -Karalampi had furnished important information in the nick of time and -had been suitably rewarded.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t believe it,” said Cecil, indignantly. “Who told you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Azevedo, the old Jewish banker, a great crony of mine. Most of my -friends are Jews, Turks, infidels, or heretics, somehow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, one can never tell what people will pride themselves upon,” -said Cecil, looking away. “But such a choice of friends——” -</p> - -<p> -“I never said I was proud of it,” he said, quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“No, your tone said it for you,” said Cecil; “it implied that it was -original and uncommon to have such a circle of acquaintances. But if -you are so fond of Jews, why don’t you get to know Dr Yehudi?” -</p> - -<p> -“What, the fat old padre down in the town?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; you seldom have him here on Sundays, because he knows so many -more languages than Mr Schad, and so does more mission-work. He can -speak an extraordinary number of modern dialects, and knows Syriac and -Chaldee and all the old languages as well.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I have heard them talking of him at Azevedo’s. To mention his -name there is like waving a red rag before a particularly furious -bull. And so he is one of those expensive people, converted Jews? You -know it costs, they say, a thousand pounds to convert one Jew. I -should like to see one. I’ll go and look him up.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hope you will,” said Cecil, quietly. -</p> - -<p> -Charlie looked at her a moment to discover whether she was angry with -his speech. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you mind my saying that about the thousand pounds?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -“Why should I?” said Cecil. “Can you say that a soul, whether Dr -Yehudi’s or any one else’s, is not worth so much? But when you know -him, you will be better able to judge for yourself.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch09"> -CHAPTER IX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">LITERATURE AND POLITICS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">I have</span> made the acquaintance of your old friend,” Charlie said to -Cecil a few Sundays after this conversation. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you mean Dr Yehudi,” said she. “How do you like him?” -</p> - -<p> -“My Western mind admires him extremely, because he is so tremendously -in earnest, but my Eastern mind is disgusted by his restlessness. Why -can’t he let people alone? He must always be attacking some one’s -cherished beliefs or pet foibles. If I was really an Eastern, I -suppose I should regard him as a prophet, and become a disciple. But I -really do believe there is something in it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Something in what?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Well—in the conversion of Jews, in spite of the thousand pounds. Old -Yehudi is such a splendid fellow—with his power and talents he might -have done almost anything if he had remained a Jew, but he has given -it all up, and the way the Jews here hate him for it! He has a -fascination for them, though; they go and argue with him by the hour, -and then leave the house tearing their clothes and calling down curses -upon him. But he’s awfully good to them, and the Moslems respect him -tremendously. He seems to do a great deal of good in one way and -another, but I can’t help thinking he would do better as a medical -man. It must be a hopeless kind of work preaching to a set of poor -wretches so horribly afflicted as some of them are.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why don’t you offer to go and help him?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -Charlie looked confused. -</p> - -<p> -“How did you know?” he said. “Of course I can’t give up my time to -anything of the kind now, but I did say something to him one day about -throwing up this place and working under him. What do you think he -said to me? He looked me over very slowly, and said, ‘My goot yong -friend, you are what we call a rolling stone, never staying long in -one place. In the Missions this is as bad as in the worldly affairs. -Let me see you staying where you are for five years, working -faithfully under the goot Balio Bey, and then come to me again.’ That -was rather rough on me, wasn’t it? I wonder how he knew that Sir -Dugald and I didn’t exactly hit it?” -</p> - -<p> -“He knows Sir Dugald, and he is beginning to know you,” said Cecil; -“and by his putting it in that way, he meant to show that it was not -Sir Dugald’s fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am doomed to be snubbed to-day,” said Charlie, and went off -laughing to visit his hospital. Cecil felt more light-hearted than -usual about him that night. Generally his erratic ways and strange -acquaintances weighed upon her mind a good deal, but she felt more at -ease now that he had learnt to know the versatile and friendly Dr -Yehudi. He would be better employed in discussing Talmudical theology -or Syriac roots with him, even if no higher themes were touched upon, -than in gathering scandal about Sir Dugald and the foreign consuls -generally from old Isaac Azevedo. Cecil had taken a rather hastily -founded dislike to this old man, of whom she knew only by hearsay. It -even made her doubtful of the correctness of her own estimate of M. -Karalampi, to find it confirmed by reports from such a quarter. But a -corroboration of Charlie’s opinion of Azim Bey’s former teacher was -speedily to be provided from an independent source. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s relations with her pupil continued to be of the happiest -character. In the seclusion of their own courtyard he was almost -always with her. He was perfectly content to be silent if she was -busy, and possessed the happy faculty of being able to do nothing and -yet not get into mischief. But stories were what he delighted in, and -all the pranks of Fitz, Terry, Patsy, and Loey were recounted over and -over again, until he knew the boys as well as their sister did. It was -a remarkable and gratifying thing about him that he never seemed -inclined to imitate any of these tricks. He was too much grown up, -indeed, to do anything of the kind, and it was from this very fact -that Cecil’s first great difficulty in dealing with him arose. -</p> - -<p> -It so happened that she was not called upon to face this difficulty -until one day in the height of summer, when she was feeling unusually -weak and exhausted. She was only just recovering from an attack of -fever, and the heat seemed stifling, even in the semi-darkness of the -cellar schoolroom, with its carefully shaded windows close to the -ceiling. She had succeeded in getting through the morning’s lessons -somehow, but she found it impossible to provide Azim Bey with his -daily instalment of story. Upon this he volunteered to tell her a -story instead, while one of the negresses sat by and fanned her, and -she prepared herself to listen with considerable interest. Whatever -the story was, Azim Bey seemed to be quite excited about it, and she -wondered whether he had inherited the Arab gift of improvisation. He -sat thinking for a few minutes, and then, with very little preface, -began to pour into her horrified ears such a tale as made her hair -almost stand on end. At first she could only gaze at him in speechless -horror as he spoke, accompanying his words with much vigorous -descriptive action, but at last she found her voice, and burst forth -with crimson face— -</p> - -<p> -“Bey, be silent! How dare you repeat such things? Where did you learn -that?” -</p> - -<p> -“In a book, mademoiselle, a delightful book. Ah, magnificent!” he -added, slowly, smacking his lips as if he enjoyed the recollection. -</p> - -<p> -“Who gave it you?” gasped Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“M. Karalampi: he has given and lent me many, for two—three years. -Ah, the dear pink and yellow books, how I love them!” -</p> - -<p> -“And you have been reading these books ever since I came, and you -never told me!” said Cecil, in deep reproach. Her pupil became -penitent at once. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, mademoiselle,” he cried, flinging himself down beside her, and -seizing her hand, “he told me not to tell you. He said the English -hated French books, and could not understand them, and he used to send -them into my apartments at night. But at last I thought I would see -whether you did understand. O mademoiselle, my dear mademoiselle, why -are you weeping?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I am not fit to have the charge of you,” said Cecil, sadly, -dashing away the gathering tears. “I never thought of this. Oh, Bey, I -trusted you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t weep, mademoiselle, you are good; it is I that am wicked, vile, -a beast! I will give them up—I will read no more. We will burn them -all. I will never speak to M. Karalampi again. I promise, -mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“How did you first learn to know M. Karalampi?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“My father wished me to take lessons in French, mademoiselle, and M. -Karalampi offered to teach me, and then he said that I should learn -best in reading by myself, and he would borrow some books for me from -the French Consul.” -</p> - -<p> -“So he lent you these dreadful books?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, mademoiselle. What do you think of him?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not going to say what I think. His behaviour is infamous.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, he is a wicked man then, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“Wicked is no word for it. Bey, you will keep your promise—you will -burn these books?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will, mademoiselle, I have given you my word; but it is like -burning a piece of myself. What shall I do with nothing to read and -all my pocket-money gone? for I have just sent to M. Karalampi what I -owed him.” -</p> - -<p> -“You shall have English books,” said Cecil, with sudden resolution. -“You have no idea of the delightful books English boys read—books -that will do you good instead of harm. We will read them together -first, and when you know more English you shall read them by yourself. -I can borrow one or two from the Residency until we can write home for -more.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, mademoiselle. We will burn the bad books—we will not -retain one. O women, bring wood into the courtyard, and fire.” -</p> - -<p> -The negresses obeyed in some surprise, which was only natural, -considering the character of the weather; but Cecil and her pupil were -both too much in earnest to care for the heat, and mounted the stairs -at once to the courtyard, where the servants arranged a goodly pile. -It was not in Azim Bey’s nature to conduct such a ceremony as this -without all the pomp possible, and having installed Cecil in an -arm-chair in the verandah, he headed a small procession of slave-women -to his own rooms and superintended their return with their arms full -of pink and yellow volumes. Under his direction the leaves were torn -out in handfuls and piled on the wood, and he himself heroically set -fire to the pile. Cecil sat with a thankful heart watching the printed -pages curl and blacken. She remembered now Um Yusuf’s remark about -Azim Bey’s reading bad books, and the way Lady Haigh had laughed at -it, but the possibility of such a constant inflow of corrupt -literature as M. Karalampi had brought about had never occurred to -her. On the principle of striking while the iron was hot, she -proceeded next to cut off the supply. When Azim Bey had satisfied -himself that not a scrap of the obnoxious books remained unburnt, he -was summoned to write to M. Karalampi. Under Cecil’s superintendence, -but in his own phraseology, the boy expressed his thanks for M. -Karalampi’s kindness in the past, while remarking politely that he -would not trouble him for any further specimens of French literature. -When this letter had been despatched by a special messenger, Cecil -breathed more freely, and wrote a little note to the Residency, asking -Lady Haigh to send her any boys’ books she might happen to have. -</p> - -<p> -Without Cecil’s intending it in the slightest, her hasty scribble -produced an extraordinary effect at the Residency. As has already been -said, she had been suffering from fever, and had not, in consequence, -been able to avail herself of her Sunday liberty for a fortnight. She -had been attended by the Pasha’s own physician, who had gone in person -to the Residency to report to Lady Haigh on the condition of his -patient, but Lady Haigh was not satisfied. She herself had hurt her -foot and could not get to the Palace to see Cecil, and she was nervous -and low-spirited about her, and feared that she was not properly taken -care of. The hurried pencil note, with its uneven writing, seemed to -her to confirm her fears, and she was hobbling to Sir Dugald’s office -to look for him and insist upon his doing something, when she -remembered that he had gone to see the Pasha. Happily she came across -Charlie instead, and he sympathised fully with her apprehensions. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, Cousin Elma, it does look bad. It seems to me very much as if -they were keeping her shut up and she couldn’t write without exciting -suspicion. She gets hold of a scrap of paper and scribbles as plain a -message as she dares without actually asking for help. You see from -the writing that she must have been agitated and excited. I certainly -think that this note ought to be answered in person.” -</p> - -<p> -“And my wretched foot!” groaned poor Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I’ll go for you, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, hastily. “It might -not do to wait until Sir Dugald comes back. I don’t feel at all sure -about that illness of Miss Anstruther’s. It may be all a fraud on the -part of the <i>hakim bashi</i> (doctor). At any rate, if you will write a -note saying that I am the surgeon of the Residency come to see -Mademoiselle Antaza professionally, they must let me in. Of course, if -you have the books, I may as well take them with me, in case it’s all -right.” -</p> - -<p> -About an hour afterwards, in consequence of this colloquy, Cecil and -her pupil, who had begun their evening lessons, were disturbed by -hearing Masûd’s warning cry of “<i>Dastûr! Dastûr!</i>” Much surprised -that the Pasha should pay his son a visit at this unwonted hour, Cecil -and the other women hurriedly assumed their veils, presenting thereby -an extremely grotesque aspect to Charlie as he approached, preceded by -the much-perturbed Masûd. He could not help laughing to see the women -instantaneously transforming themselves into closely swathed bundles -at his appearance, and Azim Bey marked his levity with displeasure. -</p> - -<p> -“This gentleman is an acquaintance of yours, mademoiselle?” he -inquired frigidly, noticing that Cecil started. -</p> - -<p> -“How do you do, Dr Egerton?” she asked, in some confusion. “May I -present to you Dr Egerton from the English Consulate, Bey?” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie composed his features and bowed with due solemnity, and then -delivered his burden of books with a polite message from Lady Haigh. -Having done this, he seemed to intend his visit to be considered as a -friendly call, for he made several vain attempts to thaw the cool -reserve of Azim Bey, who sat regarding him with disapproving eyes. -Cecil was on thorns, fearing that her pupil would proceed to say -something rude, and it was scarcely a matter of surprise to her when -he remarked in his clearest tones— -</p> - -<p> -“At this period of the day, monsieur, mademoiselle and I are engaged -with our studies. As I am certain that mademoiselle has no desire that -these should be interrupted by the visits of her acquaintances, I may -remark that if Milady Haigh has any message to send after this, it -will be unnecessary for M. le docteur to put himself to the pain of -bringing it.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil turned crimson, and even Charlie looked confused for a moment. -But his presence of mind did not forsake him, and he bowed politely, -regretted that he had trespassed on the patience of mademoiselle and -of the Bey, and took his departure. -</p> - -<p> -“I do believe that little beggar’s inclined to be jealous,” he said to -himself as he left the Palace and went back to the Residency, -satisfied about Cecil, and thinking no more about Azim Bey and his -ways. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil dared not say anything to her pupil about his rudeness, fearing -lest he should think she had some personal feeling in the matter. -After all, she was not sorry that Dr Egerton should have received his -<i>congé</i> so decisively, for it would never have done if he had taken -it into his head to call again, and she was only thankful that the -incident of the books should have ended so happily. -</p> - -<p> -But she was reckoning without her host, for the incident was not yet -terminated. Two or three days after the destruction of the French -novels, Azim Bey came in from a ride with his father in a state of -high self-satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not good to speak kindly to a wicked man—to treat him with -distinction—is it, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“To treat him with distinction? Certainly not,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, mademoiselle, I have treated the wicked man rightly; for M. -Karalampi is a wicked man, is he not? You said so yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know I did; but I didn’t mean you to be rude to him, Bey,” answered -Cecil, in some alarm. “What have you done?” -</p> - -<p> -“We passed him to-day, mademoiselle, walking with the French Consul, -and I refused to take the slightest notice of either of them; for the -Consul must also be wicked, since he lent M. Karalampi the books at -first. Well, presently, when we halted, M. Karalampi approached me -with an air of familiarity, and inquired with sorrow how he had -offended me. I told him that I did not desire any further association -with him, and that I no longer considered him as one of my intimates.” -</p> - -<p> -The boy was so well pleased with himself for this that none of Cecil’s -lectures on rudeness could produce any effect on him, and she dropped -the subject in despair. But the French Consul and M. Karalampi did not -see the matter in the same light, and they did their best, happily -with only partial success, to found a diplomatic complication upon the -incident. A note to the French Government complained of the pernicious -influence exercised by England in the household of Ahmed Khémi Pasha, -and in ornate and highly complimentary language deprecated the -interference of ladies in politics. Cecil was gallantly described as a -young woman profoundly learned, with manners the most distinguished, a -countenance charming and altogether spiritual, and a bearing at once -modest and intrepid, <i>Anglaise des Anglaises</i>. The sting of this -description was intended to be in its tail, and the writer went on to -say that this young girl, so innocent, so unsuspicious, was only the -tool of unscrupulous persons behind the scenes. Here followed a highly -coloured portrait of Sir Dugald Haigh, who was described as “this -inscrutable automaton of a man,” “this impassive murderer of poor -Hindus” (it is scarcely necessary to remark that the latter was a -purely fancy touch, probably borrowed from the colonial methods of the -writer’s own nation), as a crafty schemer and a Machiavellian plotter. -</p> - -<p> -The note produced a good deal of effect, and there was a debate upon -the subject in the French Chamber, while at Westminster certain -M.P.’s, whose tender consciences were wounded by the thought of -England’s exercising influence anywhere, questioned the Government -upon it, and Cecil received through Sir Dugald a vague and formal -caution which might have meant anything or nothing, and the matter -dropped. -</p> - -<p> -The English books which Cecil procured to replace the vanished novels -proved extremely successful in accomplishing her object. Azim Bey -devoured them eagerly, and held long conversations upon them with his -governess afterwards. To her great amusement, the characters he -discussed with most appreciation were those of the villain and of the -capable person who acted as <i>deus ex machinâ</i>, and cleared up -everything at the end of the story. He pursued the history of the -villain’s machinations with breathless interest, and generally carped -at his ignominious downfall when virtue triumphed, declaring that such -a man would never have let himself be conquered by such feeble means. -On the other hand, the character of the wealthy old gentleman who -adopts deserving orphan boys and starts them in life, takes -necessitous heroes into partnership, and bestows timely fortunes on -penniless heroines, suited the vein of rather eccentric benevolence -which was noticeable in him. Further reading brought him to wish to do -something for the poor—and this not only in the way of giving alms to -beggars in the street, which he did carefully as a religious duty. He -wished to go amongst them and help them to raise themselves; and when -his father absolutely refused to allow him to do anything of the kind, -he demanded that his governess should find him some substitute for -this employment. After some cogitation, Cecil suggested that he should -take an interest in Dr Yehudi’s Mission-schools, the best managed -institution of their kind in Baghdad; and Azim Bey set to work at -once, and gave the Pasha no peace until he had granted him leave to -visit them. -</p> - -<p> -It would be difficult to say whether the Bey or his entertainers felt -the honour of this visit more acutely, but the programme was gone -through in a thoroughly successful way. Azim Bey inspected all the -buildings, listened to the children’s lessons, asked them a few -questions himself, and finally sent out one of his servants to buy -sweetmeats to distribute among them—all with a stately and paternal -air modelled on that which the Pasha wore on similar occasions. He was -so supremely well satisfied with himself that, when the ceremony was -over, he accepted the Yehudis’ invitation to afternoon tea, and -handled his cup and saucer as though to the manner born, or as if he -had rehearsed the scene carefully beforehand, as he generally did when -he was to meet Europeans. They were a very pleasant little party in -the cellar of the Mission-house,—Mrs Yehudi pouring out her woes to -Cecil in a corner on the subject of her husband’s irrepressible -activity, and her conviction that he would kill himself with work; -while Dr Yehudi, genial, rotund, and erudite, conversed with Azim Bey -in the purest Arabic, when the harmony of the occasion was marred by -the entrance of a visitor. Unfortunately, it was not one of the Jewish -rabbis who were wont to come and argue with Dr Yehudi, nor even one of -the Turkish gentlemen who sometimes honoured him with a visit for the -sake of his many talents, but Charlie Egerton. As he advanced -cautiously towards his hostess in the dim light, Azim Bey’s brow grew -black, and Cecil turned first red and then white, as she realised that -her pupil’s suspicious mind had instantly concluded that the meeting -here was prearranged. Ever since Charlie’s visit to their courtyard, -Azim Bey had maintained a violent dislike of him, and refused to hear -his name mentioned, alleging that he had forced his way into the -Palace with the express design of insulting him and of thrusting -himself upon Mdlle. Antaza. -</p> - -<p> -A prejudice of this kind could not be dealt with by argument, and -Cecil had refrained from attempting it, but now she wished that she -had not done so, for even the Yehudis perceived at once that something -was wrong. The only unconcerned person was the intruder himself, who -complimented Mrs Yehudi on her tea, chaffed the Bey on the subject of -his gloomy countenance, and otherwise did his best to make things -comfortable. But his efforts were in vain. No sooner had Cecil set -down her tea-cup than her pupil rose. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sorry to hasten you, mademoiselle, but it is time that we -return. M. le pasteur, may I entreat you to command my servants to be -summoned? Accept, madame, the assurance of my most distinguished -consideration, and of my eternal gratitude for your hospitality. Allow -me to enjoy the hope of one day partaking of it again.” -</p> - -<p> -“May I ride with you as far as the Palace?” said Charlie to Cecil in a -low voice, but Azim Bey heard him. -</p> - -<p> -“No, monsieur, pray do not trouble yourself to move. Your attendance -is not required. You understand me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Perfectly, Bey,” responded Charlie, and Azim Bey and his attendants -mounted and rode off, the Bey keeping a sharp eye upon Cecil, with the -view of preventing any lingering farewells. When they were well on -their way, he demanded— -</p> - -<p> -“Is this Dr Egerton always at the Mission-house when you go there, -mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“That means every time but once, I suppose?” he asked, rudely. -</p> - -<p> -“You forget yourself, Bey,” said Cecil, in grave reproof. “I am not -accountable for Dr Egerton’s movements, but I can tell you that I have -never met him at the Mission-house before, and that I had no idea -whatever that he would be there to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey grunted and changed the subject, absolutely refusing to refer -to it again. He refused also to attend the prize-giving at the school, -to which he had been looking forward, and gave Cecil as few chances as -possible of going to the Mission-house. Nor did his precautions end -here. Dr Yehudi received a confidential hint from Denarien Bey, -warning him not to entertain persons from the British Consulate so -frequently at his house, as the fact of the constant presence there of -such individuals was creating a suspicion in high quarters that the -work was being carried on for political ends. The old missionary had -no alternative but to lay the case before Charlie, who perceived that -he was out-manœuvred, and was obliged to accept the situation. Lady -Haigh laughed at him, but he felt himself an innocent and much injured -individual. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch10"> -CHAPTER X.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A CUP OF COFFEE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">For</span> more than a year Azim Bey continued to be sulky on the subject -of the Mission-school, although in everything else he was a pattern -pupil. His intended career as a public benefactor seemed destined to -end abruptly with Charlie Egerton’s appearance in the Yehudis’ -parlour, and Cecil could not be wholly sorry for this, since political -feeling in the city was not in a state to make house-to-house -visitation either safe or pleasant. Matters were going rather badly in -the pashalik just now. Two or three scanty harvests had been followed -by famine, and the general distress was increased by the fact that the -Pasha, who was much in want of money, had chosen this singularly -inopportune moment for imposing a duty on the importation of foreign -corn, a course which was strongly resented. Bands of marauders -infested the country districts, and the constant expeditions necessary -to keep the main trade-routes open involved an expenditure of men and -money which could with difficulty be met. Hussein Bey, the Pasha’s -disaffected eldest son, who had been “lying low” for some time, had -reappeared as the leader of one of these bands, and was doing his best -to stir the populace to revolt. His wrongs, in being set aside for his -younger brother, who was being brought up as half a Christian, were in -every one’s mouth, and many people did not scruple to attribute the -misfortunes of the province to the malign influence of the -Englishwoman who was scarcely ever absent from Azim Bey’s side. The -position she enjoyed in the Palace was constantly attributed to -witchcraft; and there were even those who said that things would never -be right in Baghdad until Azim Bey and his governess were—well, -disposed of. By degrees matters went from bad to worse. Riotous mobs -beset unpopular officials in the streets, and more than one house was -attacked and rifled. The Pasha shut himself up in the Palace, with a -strong guard on duty night and day, and none of the household ventured -out without an escort. When Cecil went to the Residency she was -attended by a small army of soldiers and cavasses, and even these -could scarcely keep back the howling mobs. Still no actual danger -touched her personally, and she was inclined to adopt Sir Dugald’s -consolatory opinion that the bark of the Baghdadis was always worse -than their bite, and that the latter might be considered, in -mathematical language, as a negligible quantity, when something came -to pass one day which showed her in what a perilous position she and -her charge really stood at this time. -</p> - -<p> -After lessons on this particular morning, Azim Bey despatched one of -the slave-women to bring some coffee. The negress was longer than -usual on her errand, and he waxed impatient, but she reappeared at -last, hurrying in with three tiny jewelled cups on a silver tray. One -cup was for herself, for it was her duty to taste the beverages -supplied to the Bey, the remaining two for him and for Cecil. As the -woman set the tray down on the little octagonal table, Azim Bey gave -it a slight twist so as to bring the cup which had been nearest to her -hand opposite to himself. Her hand was already outstretched to take -it, and she paused in surprise and hesitated. -</p> - -<p> -“Taste the coffee, O Salimeh,” said the boy, authoritatively. -</p> - -<p> -Rather doubtfully, Salimeh stretched her hand across the tray, took -the cup which was in front of her young master, and drank off the -contents. -</p> - -<p> -“Now drink another,” said Azim Bey. -</p> - -<p> -“O, my lord, they are for thee and for mademoiselle,” remonstrated the -woman, with a note of anxiety in her voice which attracted Cecil’s -attention. “How shall I drink my lord’s coffee?” -</p> - -<p> -“Drink it,” said Azim Bey, shortly, fixing his eyes upon her. -</p> - -<p> -As though fascinated by his gaze, she slowly stretched out her hand -and took up another cup, raised it half-way to her lips, and paused. -</p> - -<p> -“Drink it,” he repeated, gazing at her, while her dark face grew pale -and ghastly-looking with terror, until in a sudden frenzy she dashed -the cup to the ground. -</p> - -<p> -“O, my lord, pardon thy servant,” she sobbed, flinging herself on her -knees and grovelling before him. “God has made my lord very wise. -There is death in the cup.” -</p> - -<p> -“Drink the other,” said Azim Bey, unmoved. -</p> - -<p> -His voice had been so calm throughout that it was only now that Cecil -realised that she had barely escaped taking a prominent part in a -tremendous tragedy. She interposed hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“Bey, you cannot mean to make her drink it if it is poisoned? It will -kill her.” -</p> - -<p> -“She would have killed you and me, mademoiselle. Get up and drink it, -thou granddaughter of a dog!” he added to the wretched woman, who was -weeping and howling at his feet. -</p> - -<p> -“But it is not for you to punish her,” remonstrated Cecil. “She may -have been terrified into doing it. It ought to be inquired into.” -</p> - -<p> -“It shall be,” said Azim Bey, grimly, and he summoned Masûd from the -door. With the poisoned cup held to her lips, Salimeh confessed that -she had been bribed to leave the tray of coffee on the ledge of a -window which looked into the harem enclosure, and to turn her back for -a moment. She had held in her hand the cup she intended for herself, -so as to make things safe, but she could only guess what had been done -to the other two. It took longer to find out who had been the other -party to the dreadful transaction, but after a lengthy -cross-examination she confessed that it was Zubeydeh Kalfa, the -Um-ul-Pasha’s head-slave. When this conclusion was reached, Azim Bey -turned a meaning glance on Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“This case must go before my father, mademoiselle,” he said; “it is -too much for me to deal with. No doubt he would much prefer that I -should settle it for myself and not involve him in trouble with my -grandmother, but it is too serious. An example must be made. Take the -woman away, O Masûd, and keep her safely until the Pasha can give -thee orders about her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” responded Masûd, with a grin, and -dragged away the miserable Salimeh, shrieking and praying for mercy. -</p> - -<p> -“Did you know beforehand that the coffee was poisoned, Bey?” was the -first question Cecil asked her pupil when they were alone. -</p> - -<p> -“We in Turkey learn to expect such incidents in times like these, -mademoiselle,” said the boy, with lofty, almost <i>blasé</i>, -condescension, “and I have long been looking out for some token of the -kind from my grandmother or my brother, but I knew no more about this -attempt before it was made than you did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then how did you discover it?” asked Cecil, with natural curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps, mademoiselle, you may not have observed that I am of a -somewhat suspicious nature? Any unnecessary action or unusual -occurrence sets me to reflect upon the reason for its happening. Apply -this to our experience to-day. I send the villanous Salimeh for -coffee. She is much longer than she need be in bringing it, and -returns to the room hastily, and with an air of disturbance. My -suspicions are aroused, but I say nothing, knowing that no one looks -so foolish as the person who imagines perpetually that plots are being -directed against him. I merely turn the tray partly round, secure that -the would-be murderess will not murder herself. Her very first -movement confirms my suspicions, and if any further assurance is -wanted, it is supplied by her later behaviour. There you have the -whole thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is very dreadful,” said Cecil, with a shudder; “but you will ask -his Excellency to deal gently with her, Bey?” -</p> - -<p> -“Gently, mademoiselle?” and a smile broke over Azim Bey’s solemn -countenance. “Is she to have liberty to murder us successfully another -time? Besides, an example is necessary, and she is the only culprit -that can be reached. Zubeydeh Kalfa may possibly be seized, but to -defend herself she would implicate her employers, and then the matter -could not be hushed up.” -</p> - -<p> -“But this is not justice, Bey,” remonstrated Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“No, mademoiselle, it is policy,” said Azim Bey, unabashed. -</p> - -<p> -And the dictates of policy were followed in the investigation which -succeeded. No one who heard of the matter doubted for an instant that -the Um-ul-Pasha had planned the murder of her younger grandson in the -interests of Hussein Bey, but all Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s efforts were -directed to prevent the slightest whisper being breathed against his -mother. He guarded with the utmost loyalty the good name which she had -perilled so rashly, and succeeded in preventing any open declaration -of the truth. Zubeydeh Kalfa was got rid of by being married to a -former pipe-bearer of the Pasha’s, who was going to live in Mosul, a -town which has a Pasha of its own, and where gossip concerning the -Palace harem at Baghdad would therefore be at a discount. Salimeh -disappeared. Cecil was left in doubt as to her fate, and could never -discover what had become of her. All that Azim Bey would say when -questioned was that she had gone to a far country, but whether she had -been put to death, or disposed of in the same way that Zubeydeh Kalfa -had been, Cecil never knew. Masûd and the women-servants who had seen -and heard what had happened received handsome presents to induce them -to keep the matter quiet, and Cecil was astonished by the gift of a -gold watch of abnormal size, with a richly jewelled case and a massive -chain. Its value was considerable, and she exhibited it at the -Residency with surprise and delight, until Lady Haigh told her that it -was intended as a bribe to make her hold her tongue. She was horrified -at this, and wished to return it to the Pasha at once, but Lady Haigh -objected. -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t intend to publish abroad your belief that the Um-ul-Pasha -tried to poison you and Azim Bey, I suppose?” she said; “so why not -keep the watch, if you are going to earn it?” -</p> - -<p> -“But the Pasha will think that I am silent on account of his having -given it to me,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course he will, my dear; and if you give it back, he will take it -as a sign that it is not valuable enough, and he will go on piling up -his bribes, but he will never understand your scruples. Orientals -don’t indulge in such luxuries, and why should you not let the poor -man have the happy feeling that your silence is secured, since it is -so after all?” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was silenced, but not convinced, and put the watch by, for her -pleasure in it was spoilt. Presently she had to encounter another -argument from Charlie Egerton, to whom the news of the attempted -murder had filtered through the gossip of the servants and the -streets. He was horrified to learn the danger she had been in, and -urgently desirous that she should at once quit the Palace and take -refuge at the Residency. To his great concern, Cecil refused to do -anything of the kind. It was true that she had felt nervous and -unstrung for a few days after the shock of the sudden danger and -escape, but since then she had pulled herself together and looked the -situation boldly in the face. She was ashamed of the hasty impulse -which had seized her to seek refuge in flight, and determined to -remain at the post of duty. Hence, when Charlie attacked her, he found -her armed at all points. -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t right,” he said, vehemently. “You are in constant danger. -They may catch you off your guard at any moment, and there you are, -alone in that great place, with traitors all round you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not afraid,” said Cecil. “Don’t you know that ‘each man’s -immortal till his work is done’? My work certainly lies at the Palace, -and while I can, I hope to do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“That would be a poor consolation if you and your work both ended -together,” said Charlie, bitterly, too much in earnest to pick his -phrases. -</p> - -<p> -“Why?” said Cecil. “We know that I shan’t die so long as there is any -work at all left for me to do, so that if I am killed it must mean -that my work is done.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t see it as you do,” said Charlie, conscious that this was not -what he meant at all; “and I have no wish to try, either. You are -wrought up and overstrained just now. I see that you are taking your -life in your hand, and going into fearful danger quite needlessly.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it’s not needlessly,” said Cecil; “it’s my duty. Why, suppose -that cholera, or the plague, broke out here, would you shut yourself -up and refuse to go among the people? I know you wouldn’t. You would -work night and day, and never think of the danger.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s different,” said Charlie. “It would be my business to do it. A -fellow would be a cad not to. But I wouldn’t let you do it, as you -know. It’s a very different thing going into danger oneself, and -seeing you go.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you will have to submit to it, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh’s voice. -“Cecil, my dear, I want you.” And Charlie’s chance of breaking down -Cecil’s resolution was gone. -</p> - -<p> -In his desperation, when Cecil was about to return to the Palace, he -applied to Sir Dugald, and was politely snubbed for his pains. -Certainly, Sir Dugald admitted, he was bound to afford protection to -all British subjects, but he could not force any of them to avail -themselves of it, and he pointed out the painful absurdity of the -situation which would be caused by any attempt to detain Cecil at the -Residency against her will. Such an argument had little effect upon -Charlie, but Sir Dugald’s ruling characteristic was the fear of being -made to look absurd, and he really felt that this consideration -settled the matter. Charlie poured out his woes, as usual, to Lady -Haigh, who attempted to console him by the reflection that the -Um-ul-Pasha was not likely to make another effort at poisoning just -yet, since her intended victims would be on their guard, to which he -replied that she would probably be counting on this very confidence as -to her intentions, and thus be emboldened to renew her attack. -</p> - -<p> -In the little courtyard which formed Cecil’s world during six days out -of every seven, public opinion agreed with Lady Haigh rather than with -Charlie. It was the general feeling that although no public reference -had been made to the Um-ul-Pasha’s share in the conspiracy, yet the -danger of detection had approached sufficiently near to give her a -very good fright, and that she would make no further attempt on her -grandson’s life for the present. The Pasha’s prevailing fear was lest -more violent means might now be employed, and some band of brigands -subsidised to effect the desired object. His Excellency was between -two fires. On one side were the Hajar Arabs, the tribesmen of Azim -Bey’s dead mother, who had espoused the boy’s cause with -characteristic and troublesome ardour, and threatened to murder the -Pasha if he allowed any harm to come to him; and on the other the rest -of the powerful Arab tribes of the neighbourhood, who had no special -interest in Hussein Bey, but adopted his cause on account of its not -being that of the Hajar. With these were the majority of the -Baghdadis, some because of a natural instinct for opposing the powers -that be, others because they sincerely attributed to Azim Bey and the -Englishwoman the misfortunes of the time. -</p> - -<p> -On account of this danger from brigands and from the disaffected -Arabs, the Pasha forbade his son ever to go beyond the city walls, -except in company with himself and his large escort. This prohibition -fell hardly upon Azim Bey, who found his daily rides much curtailed -and his weekly hunting-parties almost entirely stopped; but Cecil held -sole command in their own courtyard, and would not permit any evasion -of his Excellency’s orders. Her pupil felt it very dull, and at last, -when he grew thoroughly tired of rambles confined to the garden, began -to ask again about the Yehudis and their work. Hearing that the yearly -prize-giving at the schools was again approaching, he became much -interested; and when Cecil hinted that he might possibly be invited to -preside at the ceremony, his excitement rose to fever heat. An -announcement that the children had been taught to sing an Arabic -version of “God save the Queen,” so arranged as to refer to the Sultan -instead of to her most gracious Majesty, and an elaborate letter in -Turkish from Dr Yehudi, adorned with many flourishes, both literary -and caligraphical, and requesting the honour of his presence, decided -him to go, were it only with the view of encouraging loyalty in the -rising generation. Even in this exalted state of mind, however, he -exacted a solemn promise from both Cecil and Dr Yehudi that Dr Egerton -should not be invited. This once settled, he bent himself to the task -of obtaining his father’s permission to go—a formality which the -deluded Cecil had imagined to have been complied with long before. -</p> - -<p> -After all, the Pasha was not very difficult to coax into consent, for -he was specially anxious to stand well with England just then, and he -had a vague idea that there were a good many people there who took an -utterly incomprehensible interest in such an unimportant and far-off -object as the Jewish Mission-school at Baghdad. But although he was -willing that England should know of his tolerant behaviour, he was -particularly anxious that the news of it should not spread in Baghdad, -lest the mob should seek revenge at once against the Christians and -against Azim Bey by burning down the Mission-house, in which case his -Excellency would have to make good the damage. For this reason, Azim -Bey was informed, to his great chagrin, that he must go quite -privately to the prize-giving, without any pomp and circumstance -whatever, for fear of exciting the populace. Not a word was to be -breathed of the matter to any one but the parties immediately -concerned; there was to be no military escort, no long train of -servants, only the two nurses and the donkey-boys to attend upon Cecil -and himself, and Masûd to give an air of respectability to the -outing. All were to wear their plainest clothes, even the donkeys were -not to be decked with their State trappings, and the route was -strictly to be limited to unfrequented streets. Was there ever such a -poor and mean caricature of the gorgeous pageant Azim Bey had proposed -to himself? Still, it was a great thing to get out of the Palace for a -day, and the anticipated delights of playing Lord Paramount at the -prize-giving consoled the boy under his disappointment. -</p> - -<p> -The ride from the Palace to the Mission-house was undertaken in the -quietest part of the day, when there were few people in the streets, -and it passed without any hostile manifestation or even any -recognition of the riders. This fact delighted Cecil, but her pupil -seemed to be a little piqued. He had been looking forward to an -exciting and perilous transit, and this was rather tame in comparison; -but his grievance was forgotten when the Mission-house courtyard was -safely reached, and he found that the buildings were decorated with -flags, and that all the school-children were drawn up in line to -receive him. When once he had dismounted, he drew himself up with an -exact imitation of his father’s rather pompous stride on State -occasions, greeted Dr and Mrs Yehudi and Mr and Mrs Schad with great -urbanity, and passed on to the house with them between the lines of -children, bowing graciously right and left in his progress, as Cecil -had told him was the custom of royalty in England. At the examination -which followed he sat gravely in his chair and made sage remarks on -what he heard, while the musical drill delighted him excessively. He -distributed the prizes without the least shyness or awkwardness, and -consoled the less fortunate children with sweets, a form of comfort -which appealed very strongly to himself. He was an interested -spectator of the games which followed, and of the feast to which the -children at length sat down, and only consented to tear himself away -at Cecil’s repeated entreaties, assuring his hosts that he had enjoyed -himself extremely, and would have liked to remain until night. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was not so happy, for during the latter part of the time she had -been on thorns lest anything should happen to prevent their getting -safely back through the city. With all her haste it was the cool of -the day when they emerged from the gate of the Mission-house, a time -at which the streets were at their fullest. She dared not order her -cavalcade to quicken their pace, for fear of attracting attention, but -her precaution was in vain, for her pupil was recognised as they -passed through a crowd collected at the street corner, and they were -soon followed by a number of ill-conditioned men and boys making -uncomplimentary remarks in Arabic. Azim Bey waxed exceedingly wroth at -this, and wanted to order Masûd and the donkey-boys to charge the -crowd, but Cecil succeeded in restraining him. She could not, however, -keep him from exchanging defiances with his ragged escort, a -proceeding which improved the temper of neither. -</p> - -<p> -“I will have your heads cut off! You shall be impaled upon the walls!” -shrieked the little fellow at last, and the crowd replied by derisive -laughter and ominous threats directed against himself and the foreign -woman, heaping special abuse on Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“These people not good, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, coming to her -mistress’s bridle-rein. “Some one from the harem gone tell them who we -are, and they kill us. We should get away from them. See, there is a -house with door open. Perhaps we find shelter there.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil repeated what Um Yusuf had said to her pupil, and Azim Bey, -somewhat frightened now, consented to adopt the plan proposed. The -donkeys’ heads were quickly turned in the direction of the house, and -before the astonished owners realised what was happening, the party -were all inside the courtyard and the door shut and fastened. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch11"> -CHAPTER XI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> the people of the house discovered the identity of their -uninvited guests, the welcome which they offered them was the reverse -of warm. All Azim Bey’s threats and promises could not induce them to -allow him and his attendants to remain in the shelter of the courtyard -until a messenger could be despatched to the Palace and return with a -military escort; indeed they could scarcely be restrained from -thrusting them out again to the mob, who were clamouring at the gate. -It was some time before largely increased offers could win them over -to consent to a compromise, namely, to let the whole party out by a -back door leading into an unfrequented street, from which, through -many twists and turnings, the Palace might be reached. -</p> - -<p> -“But we cannot all go together,” said Azim Bey, “or they will -recognise us again. We must separate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Never!” cried Cecil, resolutely. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you and I will keep together, mademoiselle. What I mean is, that -we must not leave the house again as a large party. The two nurses -will mount our donkeys and go with the servants. You and I will depart -by ourselves.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not unless you are disguised,” said Cecil. “For you to go in that -dress would simply be to let yourself be murdered.” -</p> - -<p> -“The disguise will not be difficult,” he cried, tearing off his long -black coat and unbuckling his little sword. “Now if the good people of -this house will give us in exchange for these an old <i>abba</i> and -<i>kaffiyeh</i>, I shall be unrecognisable. As for you, mademoiselle, no -one could know you. You look just like any Baghdadi lady in a sheet -and yellow slippers.” -</p> - -<p> -The owners of the house could not resist the advantageous offer made -them, and Cecil, seeing in the bold stroke proposed their only chance, -allowed it to be accepted. A ragged old cloak, with the orthodox brown -and white stripes, and a torn head-handkerchief, fastened round the -brow by a rope of twisted wool, which kept it well down over the face, -made Azim Bey a most realistic-looking little Arab, and Cecil felt -that it was very unlikely that he would be recognised in his disguise. -The mob in front of the house had become quieter by this time, and old -Ayesha, the Bey’s nurse, proposed that she and her fellow-servants -should leave the house by the front door a few minutes after he and -Cecil had stolen out at the back, thus leading the crowd to believe -that the two most important members of the party were still within. -Cecil objected to this as sending the servants into unnecessary -danger, but Um Yusuf assured her that without herself and the Bey they -would in all probability be able to pass through the streets in -safety, and she allowed herself to be overruled. -</p> - -<p> -“Go with the women, O Masûd,” said Azim Bey to the faithful negro, -who was following them to the back door. -</p> - -<p> -“God forbid, O my lord!” said Masûd, stolidly. “Am I not here to -attend upon my lord and mademoiselle, and shall I leave them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Go thy way, O Masûd!” cried Azim Bey, impatiently. “Thou art as well -known in Baghdad as the tower of the Lady Zubeydeh (upon whom be -peace) itself, and shall we be slain for the sake of thy black face?” -</p> - -<p> -“My lord is very wise, and his servant will obey him,” returned -Masûd, and marched back to the other servants. -</p> - -<p> -The door was cautiously opened, and Cecil, clasping the hand of her -little pupil, and holding her sheet in the proper way so as to hide -all but her eyes, quickly found herself in a narrow lane behind the -house. The way had been explained to them, and they started off -briskly, scarcely speaking. Azim Bey found this adventure exciting -enough to satisfy even his bold aspirations, and Cecil was afraid to -begin a conversation, lest her foreign accents should attract the -notice of any one in the houses on either side. Presently the lane led -them into a quiet street, where little knots of people were standing -talking and others were going about their business in a leisurely kind -of way, and mingling with these they passed on unnoticed. Next they -had to go through one of the bazaars, where business was pretty well -over for the day, and where groups of disappointed buyers and -unsuccessful salesmen were discussing the crops and abusing the Pasha. -Still they were unrecognised, but when they had nearly passed through -the bazaar they came upon a blind beggar, who was sitting on the -ground, with his hand held out, asking for alms. Before Cecil could -stop him, Azim Bey took a coin from his pocket and threw it to him. It -was a gold piece, and the mendicant called down blessings on his head -as he picked it up. But others had noticed it also, and a crowd of -beggars seemed to start up from the very ground as they thronged from -their various stations and niches, exhibiting their sores and -deformities, and demanding charity rather than entreating it. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Voici une foule de gens qui vont nous suivre de nouveau, -mademoiselle</i>,” said Azim Bey, as the shopkeepers and their gossips, -attracted by the hubbub, joined the crowd and tried to get a glimpse -of these generous strangers. At the sound of the unfamiliar tongue -they started and looked curiously at the pair, and a quick buzz went -round among them. Cecil grasped her pupil’s hand and dragged him on, -once more feeling ready to shake him for his foolishness, but it was -evident that the men around had understood who they were, for they -closed up as if to hustle them. Intent only on escaping, Cecil led her -charge down the first turning they reached, and they hurried on -breathlessly, through narrow echoing alleys, with houses almost -meeting overhead, while behind them came the sound of many feet. The -lanes afforded great facilities for eluding a foe, and Cecil and Azim -Bey turned and doubled until they were tired. At last they came out on -an open space with a well in it, and found their enemies awaiting -them—a motley crowd of rough-looking men, with a sprinkling of impish -boys and witch-like old women. A yell arose from the crowd as soon as -the fugitives were seen, and Cecil turned and fled once more, dragging -the boy with her. For a few moments they ran back along the way they -had come (no easy task, as any one who has tried to run in loose -slippers along a back alley of Baghdad, unpaved and uneven, will -confess), then found themselves at a place where two ways met, -hesitated, chose one at random, and came face to face with a -detachment of their pursuers. They were doubly pursued now, as they -turned back and took the other path, and stones and pieces of rubbish -began to hurtle through the air. Suddenly Cecil reeled against the -wall and loosed her hold of her pupil’s hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Go on, Bey,” she gasped, “I am spent. I can’t go any farther, but you -may get away. Run on a little—creep into some house and hide. Oh, go, -go!” as the yells of the enemy approached. -</p> - -<p> -“I shall not go,” returned the boy, stoutly, pulling out a jewelled -dagger about three inches long. “I am going to fight for you, -mademoiselle, and if they kill you they shall kill me too.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come on again, then,” panted Cecil, spurred forward by the fear of -causing the death of her gallant little pupil, and she struggled on a -few steps farther. Then a stone struck her on the shoulder, and she -tottered and clutched at Azim Bey for support. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t go on,” she murmured, and the crowd behind, catching a -glimpse of her and guessing her exhausted condition, set up a -triumphant yell. Goaded on by the sound, she and her pupil made a last -dash round a corner into another lane, where they came face to face -with Charlie Egerton, who was walking serenely along, cigar in mouth. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Anstruther!” he gasped, and away went the cigar, and Charlie -caught Cecil as she swayed to and fro. -</p> - -<p> -“They are hunting us, monsieur!” cried Azim Bey, in great excitement. -“They wish to massacre us! Take care of mademoiselle. As for me, I am -going to attack that rabble there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t let him go,” sobbed Cecil, feebly, as the boy unsheathed his -dagger anew and started out against the foe, and Charlie grasped the -situation. -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Bey; put up that penknife of yours, or keep it until we get -to close quarters. Hang on to my coat and come with me.” -</p> - -<p> -To hear his highly-prized dagger called a penknife mortified Azim Bey -excessively, and his dignity was also wounded by the familiar tone; -but he pocketed his pride and obeyed, holding on to Charlie’s coat on -one side while the wearer supported Cecil along with as much -tenderness as was compatible with extreme haste. The mob had rushed -round the corner by this time, expecting to find an easy prey, but the -change in the aspect of affairs rather staggered them, and they -followed on in sullen silence for a little while, until their courage -revived on realising that Charlie was alone and apparently unarmed. -Once more the stones began to fly. One struck Charlie on the head, and -Cecil received a blow on the ankle which nearly threw her to the -ground. -</p> - -<p> -“Brutes!” muttered Charlie, savagely, casting a hasty glance around in -search of some place of refuge. None was visible, and he turned to -Azim Bey, and said in his most reassuring tones, “This is warm work, -Bey; rather too much of a good thing, in fact. Now suppose you see -whether you can get Miss Anstruther on a little, while I try some -practice with my revolver?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t keep him back with me; send him on,” said Cecil. “Do you -remember who he is?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dear me! I forgot that I had Ahmed Khémi Pasha’s son to look after,” -said Charlie. “Well, Bey, run on, and make for the Residency as fast -as you can.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will not!” cried Azim Bey, indignantly. “My father is Pasha, and I -am a gentleman. Shall I leave a lady to perish? No! I will rather shed -the last drop of my blood.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s a brave little chap!” said Charlie. “Now let Miss Anstruther -lean upon your shoulder for a minute;” and he drew a revolver from his -pocket, and turning, presented it at the foremost of the mob, who were -by this time unpleasantly near. The front rank recoiled precipitately, -and Charlie seized the opportunity. -</p> - -<p> -“Take my arm again, Miss Anstruther. Hold on tight, Bey. We have not -much farther to go now.” -</p> - -<p> -They got on a little way, Cecil stumbling along with clenched teeth -and brow drawn with pain. Then the mob began to press on them again, -and Charlie fired over their heads. This daunted them a little, but -they quickly came on anew, headed by a ferocious-looking ruffian who -got near enough to make a snatch at Azim Bey. The boy struck out -valiantly with his dagger, and Charlie turned and shot through the -wrist the man who had seized him. This excited the pursuers to fury, -and Charlie was obliged to walk backwards, threatening the crowd with -his revolver, and doing his best to support Cecil at the same time. -Happily the lane was so narrow that he was able to foil all attempts -at passing him, for if these had succeeded the mob could easily have -surrounded and annihilated the three fugitives, but they had a -wholesome fear of the revolver in a spot where only two could -comfortably walk abreast. -</p> - -<p> -“Four shots more,” said Charlie, half audibly, after a short -experience of the difficulties of his present mode of progression, -“and the Residency is still—— We shall never reach it at this rate. -Here, Bey, you run on until you come to the Residency, and tell them -to have the gate open and to call out the guard. Run your hardest, and -tell them we are in for a row.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will not run,” said Azim Bey. “I am not a coward. Do you run on, -monsieur, and leave me to defend mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie stamped with impatience, and his revolver went off without his -intending it. He turned to the Bey with a very ugly look on his face, -and uttered words which it took long for the Pasha’s son to forgive or -forget. -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, small boy,” he said, “you will obey orders, if you please. -Do you think I would bother myself with you if I didn’t care more for -Miss Anstruther’s finger-tip than for the whole of your wretched -little body? I might have been able to defend her alone, but you are -endangering us both. I tell you what, if you don’t go, I’ll put a -bullet through your head, and have no more trouble with you. The only -good you can do is to run on and give my message, and fetch help. If -you don’t, mademoiselle’s death will lie at your door.” -</p> - -<p> -Away went Azim Bey, in a tumult of rage, indignation, and disgust, -hard to imagine and impossible to describe. Charlie heard him running -off, and calculated mentally how long he would be in reaching the -Residency, and how long in returning with help. Almost at the same -moment he found that he was deciding, half mechanically, on which of -the leaders of the mob he should bestow his last three shots. He had -some more cartridges with him, but he could not load with one hand, -and Cecil was clinging, half-unconscious, to his left arm. Moreover, -if the crowd saw him stop to load, they would be upon him instantly. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Azim Bey, rushing on, had found that the lane led into the -street in which the Residency stood. Running up to the gate, he was -stopped by the Sepoy sentry, who refused absolutely to allow him to -enter. Here was a blow. -</p> - -<p> -“Slave!” cried the boy, in a frenzy, “dost thou refuse me admittance? -Thou knowest not that I am Azim Bey, the Pasha-Governor’s son?” -</p> - -<p> -To this the sentry, seeing only a small boy in a high state of -excitement, with worn and ragged clothes splashed and mud-bespattered, -replied merely by the Eastern equivalent of “Tell that to the -marines,” coupled with a little good advice as to civility of -language, and continued to bar the passage. Azim Bey turned pale. -</p> - -<p> -“I must get in!” he cried. “The men of the city are murdering Mdlle. -Antaza. Show me the Balio Bey, your officer, the Mother of Teeth—any -one—they will know me and send help.” -</p> - -<p> -But the sentry still smiled in grim incredulity, not unmixed with -anger at the boy’s disrespectful reference to Lady Haigh; and Azim Bey -threw himself on the ground and cast dust upon his head, and wept and -stormed in his despair. The more he cursed, the more the sentry -laughed, until the noise attracted the attention of Captain Rossiter, -an Engineer officer who was making the Residency his headquarters -during a series of surveys which he was carrying out for the Indian -Government within the borders of the pashalik, and who had lately been -present at a <i>fête</i> at the Palace, where Azim Bey had seen him. He -happened to be crossing the courtyard, and hearing the din, came to -see what was the matter. To him Azim Bey rushed, and clinging to his -hand, told his tale of woe, while the tears poured down his grimy -little face. The tale was very incoherent, and, moreover, it was -related in a strange mixture of tongues; but Captain Rossiter -understood enough of it to send him flying madly out into the street -and down the lane, with as many of the Sepoys as he could collect at -his heels, Azim Bey staggering after them, almost too much exhausted -to walk. -</p> - -<p> -They arrived at the scene of action in the nick of time, to find -Charlie, his last shot fired, standing at bay in an angle of the wall, -with the fainting Cecil all in a heap on the ground behind him, while -he was doing his best to defend himself with the butt-end of the -revolver. The arrival of the reinforcements turned the scale. The mob -fled before the onslaught of the hated Hindus, and Charlie and Captain -Rossiter lifted Cecil up, and half-carried her the rest of the way -between them. Azim Bey, picked up on the return journey, was hoisted -on the shoulders of one of the men, and they retraced their steps, to -find that they must force their way through a large and angry crowd -which had gathered in the street, and was hurling defiances at the -Residency. All eyes were turned on them as they emerged from the lane, -and a moment’s hesitation would have been fatal. A yell of execration -went up, a hundred hands were grasping missiles and were about to hurl -them, but Captain Rossiter said something quickly to Charlie, and gave -a sharp order. The Sepoys closed around, the two Englishmen caught up -Cecil and carried her across the street at a run, and before the mob -had guessed what was going to be done, they were parted as though by a -wedge, the gate of the Residency was gained, and their intended -victims were out of reach, the stones and potsherds which they threw -clattering on the stout doors as these were shut fast, and barred and -bolted from within. -</p> - -<p> -“Sharp work!” said Captain Rossiter to Charlie, wiping his face. “I -say, I must go and report to the chief. You and Lady Haigh will look -after Miss Anstruther, I suppose? She looks pretty bad.” -</p> - -<p> -He went off to Sir Dugald’s office at once, and told him what had -happened. Sir Dugald received the news with a look of weary -resignation most piteous to behold. His whole diplomatic life was a -struggle against the occurrence of what are euphemistically called -“complications,” and here was one brewing literally at his very door. -He finished the sentence he was writing, folded his papers and locked -them up in a drawer, carefully restoring the key to its place on his -watch-chain, but as he walked across the courtyard with Captain -Rossiter, his perturbation made itself audible in disjointed -mutterings. -</p> - -<p> -“Why couldn’t they have taken refuge anywhere rather than here? That -fellow Egerton is bound to bring trouble wherever he goes. On my word, -it’s ‘heads you win, tails I lose,’ with a vengeance. If the mob -attack us, blood won’t wash it out, and if we fire on them we shall -have a blood-feud with all the Arabs in the country. Bringing that -child here, too, as if to proclaim that we support Ahmed Khémi in all -his wretched grinding oppression. We shall be identified with him in -the Baghdadi mind for years. Subadar, turn out the guard.” -</p> - -<p> -The last sentence was addressed to the Sepoy officer, who was eagerly -awaiting the order, and the soldiers marched down to the gate, where -was gathered a crowd of clerks, servants, interpreters, cavasses, and -the other motley hangers-on of a consulate in the East, besides a -number of people from outside who considered themselves “under -protection,” and always sought the Residency in haste at the first -sign of a riot. These were all listening, pale with fear, to the -repeated crashes as the mob amused themselves by throwing stones at -the gate, but they made way with grateful confidence for Sir Dugald as -he advanced, his face absolutely impassive once more, and examined the -bars and bolts. -</p> - -<p> -“So long as they are content with this,” he said to Captain Rossiter, -“we are all right. It’s an insult to the flag, of course, but an -apology will set it right. But if they get tired of throwing stones -and making no impression, we must still try and keep them off without -coming absolutely to blows. I will leave you in charge of the gate, -Rossiter, but there must be no firing with ball except in the very -last resort. Ah, listen to those mad idiots outside! They are trying -to provoke the Sepoys. Send the men back to fetch sand-bags or -anything that will strengthen the gate. Either keep them busy or keep -them out of hearing.” -</p> - -<p> -Tired of throwing stones without result, the mob were now resorting to -hard words. One man after another stood up at a safe distance and -howled insults at the Sepoys, their families, and their whole -ancestry, and any particularly telling phrase was caught up and echoed -by the crowd. Sir Dugald’s brow was furrowed with anxiety as he slowly -retraced his steps from the gate, for these Sepoys were fresh from -India, full of memories of annual conflicts with Moslems at the Hûli -and the Moharram, and he could not tell how long they would stand the -provocation they were receiving. From the river-terrace he now sent -off a messenger to the Palace, informing the Pasha of the situation, -and begging him to send a sufficient force of soldiers to secure his -son’s safety and to enable him to return home, either by land or -water. And meanwhile he lamented that this “complication” should have -happened, as was only natural, at a time when the gunboat was away -down the river. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch12"> -CHAPTER XII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">IN SEARCH OF HEALTH.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">While</span> Sir Dugald was taking his measures of precaution, Cecil had -been carried into one of the rooms on the ground-floor of the outer -court, and laid on the divan. Charlie rushed off to his surgery for -bandages, and sent a servant to fetch Lady Haigh, who came at once, -breathless and astonished, but capable and resourceful as ever. The -first step necessary was to get rid of Azim Bey, who was crouched in a -heap on the divan, looking like a little Eastern idol in very reduced -circumstances, and to turn him over to the care of Sir Dugald’s Indian -valet for some necessary personal attention. But the last rush through -the yelling mob seemed to have shaken the boy’s nerve, for he was -trembling and shivering, and his face was whitey-brown with fear. To -Lady Haigh he looked exactly like a monkey in mid-winter, but she -could not help pitying him as he shrank and cowered at every fresh -shout of the mob outside. To her greeting and advice he paid but -little heed. -</p> - -<p> -“They are all saying we shall be killed, madame,” with a nod in the -direction of the knot of frightened servants near the gate, “and if we -are to be killed, why trouble about one’s appearance? It is destiny?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is your destiny just now to go with Chanda Lal, and have a bath -and some clean clothes, if any one here has any small enough,” said -Charlie, returning with his bandages. “Now then, young man, off with -you,” and he evicted the boy summarily from the divan, and impelled -him in the right direction with a gentle shove. Charlie was the -surgeon now, not by any means the courtier, and he was not accustomed -to have his orders disobeyed. -</p> - -<p> -The business of dressing the wounded ankle was a long and painful one, -and Cecil fainted again before it was over. Charlie fetched a -restorative and administered it, and was leaving the room quietly, -with an injunction to Lady Haigh not to allow the patient to be -disturbed, when Cecil opened her eyes and half sat up. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Dr Egerton!” she cried, and Charlie came back at once. “You -mustn’t think me ungrateful,” she said, brokenly. “I do want to thank -you—I can never tell you how much—for coming to our rescue as you -did, and for saving us, especially the Bey. How should I ever have -faced his father if anything had happened to him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Especially the Bey?” repeated Charlie, slowly. “Well, I can’t agree -with you there, Miss Anstruther; but I’m glad he’s all right, if you -are pleased. He’s not a bad little beggar, and I shouldn’t wonder if -he turns out rather well after all, now that you have got him in -hand.” This was a great concession, but Charlie was in an appreciative -and magnanimous mood. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what would have happened to us if you hadn’t been -there,” pursued Cecil, excitedly. “I thought it was all over, I could -not move another step, and then we came round that corner, and you -were there, and we were saved.” There was a hysterical catch in her -voice, but she hurried on. “What would they have done to us, do you -suppose? I can’t help thinking of that money-lender’s wife and -children, don’t you remember? Their house was destroyed, and they were -dragged out into the street, and trodden to death—trodden to -death—by the crowd. And that was in this very province. They might -have done the same to us—think of it!” and she broke into hard -gasping sobs. -</p> - -<p> -“But you are not to think of it,” said Charlie, authoritatively, his -professional instincts aroused. “You will make yourself really ill, -perhaps bring on fever. What you are to do is to lie quietly here and -rest, and Cousin Elma will sit with you and talk to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But they are at the gate—they may break in at any moment,” and Cecil -looked round with terrified eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, nonsense!” said Charlie. “Why, we have the Sepoys and Rossiter, -and any number of men, to defend the place. Look at Cousin Elma; she -isn’t a bit frightened, and I know that if she thought there was any -real danger she would be seeing what she could do to help in the -defence. Now, Miss Anstruther, lie down again and try to go to sleep, -and I promise you that if I see any signs of the mob’s being likely to -get in, I will come and carry you up to the roof. We can hold out -there for any length of time. You can trust me, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed I can,” said Cecil, putting her hand into his. -</p> - -<p> -“Then that is a bargain,” said Charlie, retaining the hand; “and now I -must go and see whether I can give any help at the gate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Good-bye, then,” said Cecil. “No, not good-bye, <i>auf wiedersehen</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, <i>au revoir</i>,” said Charlie, audaciously seizing the opportunity -to kiss the hand he held, regardless of the glance of burning -indignation which he received from Lady Haigh over Cecil’s head. It -was at this extremely unpropitious moment that Azim Bey elected to -return, fresh from the manipulations of Chanda Lal, and gorgeous in -the best raiment of the young son of the Armenian major-domo. He stood -transfixed for a moment at the door, astonishment making him dumb, -then withdrew behind the curtain, and pounced upon Charlie as he came -out. -</p> - -<p> -“How dare you, monsieur?” he cried, flinging himself upon him like a -wild cat. “You shall not look at mademoiselle like that. She is my -mademoiselle, she is not yours. I will not have you touch her hand, -you——” And here followed a string of outrageous epithets in very -choice Arabic, a language extremely rich in such words, and lending -itself abundantly to purposes of abuse. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop that,” said Charlie, giving the boy a shake which sobered him, -and putting him down on the divan with no very gentle hand. “You are -the Pasha’s son, are you? Why, you are as bad as the most foul-mouthed -little blackguard in the streets. Don’t let me hear any more of such -language, and don’t talk any nonsense to Miss Anstruther, or -I’ll—I’ll keep her here at the Residency for six months on a medical -certificate!” -</p> - -<p> -And Charlie went off whistling to the gate, only to be reminded by Sir -Dugald that he was a non-combatant, and ordered to remain in the rear -unless matters came to extremities, an order which seemed to him -somewhat ludicrously unfair after the events of the day. As for Azim -Bey, he shook his small fist after Charlie’s retreating form, and -then, peeping round the curtain, glared solemnly and ferociously at -Cecil. He found her, however, quite unconscious of his gaze, for the -exhaustion had returned again after the momentary excitement, and she -was lying still with closed eyes. Obeying Lady Haigh’s warning finger, -Azim Bey tiptoed noiselessly into the room, and took up his post again -on the divan, where he seemed inclined to remain. But this did not -suit Lady Haigh, for the boy’s unchildlike ways always irritated her, -and his fixed and solemn gaze now made her feel nervous, and she -suggested that he should go up to the housetop and see what was going -on. This he was graciously pleased to do, seeing that Charlie was -safely out of the way, and for the next half hour he occupied himself -satisfactorily in keeping Lady Haigh acquainted with all the details -of the situation. The mob had temporarily turned their attention from -the Residency to the shops near, which they were pillaging in search -of arms, and Azim Bey’s shrill little voice grew excited as he -described the scene. But a more important discovery than the -damascened sword-blades and old-fashioned matchlocks, which were all -that could be obtained from the armourers’ shops, and which did not -promise to be of much use against an enemy protected by stone walls, -was a great beam of wood, which was now dragged up in triumph by the -mob with the evident intention of its being used as a battering-ram. -</p> - -<p> -Things began to look serious at this point, and Sir Dugald ordered the -Sepoys to be posted at the windows commanding the space in front of -the gate, whence they might pick off the assailants if they ventured -to come to close quarters. The non-combatants now took the place of -the Sepoys in bringing bags of earth to strengthen the gate on the -inside, and the more warlike among them got out such weapons as they -happened to possess, with the intention of giving the enemy a warm -reception if they succeeded in forcing their way in. The female -portion of the establishment, with the natural instinct of seeking -companionship in times of terror, crowded into the room where Lady -Haigh was watching over Cecil, and there lamented their hard fate in -tones of abject fear. Charlie, on his way to the gate from his -surgery, looked in to reassure them, and also to entreat that they -would make less noise, but found that they rejected all his comfort. -To give them something to do, he allowed them to move Cecil into the -inner court, and establish her at the foot of the staircase which led -to the roof, so as to be ready to retreat thither in case it was -necessary. Aided by the combined exertions of all the women, and also -by the encouraging remarks of Azim Bey, the move was effected; but it -caused Cecil too much pain for her to be willing to attempt the -stairs. In vain did her pupil offer her his place, from whence she -might obtain an excellent view of all that was to be seen; the -exertion of mounting to the roof was too great, and she dropped down -on the cushions which had been placed for her in the corner, where the -staircase shielded her from the strong rays of the setting sun. -</p> - -<p> -The men in charge of the battering-ram seemed to have been deterred -from using it by the sight of Sir Dugald’s preparations, and they were -now gathered together at a safe distance from the gate, squabbling -noisily over their engine of warfare, and apparently trying each to -persuade the other to lead the attack. The main body of the besiegers -kept up a desultory shower of stones at the gate, varied by a flight -directed at the roof when any one was visible there, and Sir Dugald -sent up orders that the women were to keep well below the parapet, and -not to show themselves. Azim Bey was in high glee as he dodged the -stones, and did his best to return them to the senders; but Lady Haigh -chafed under his father’s delay in sending relief. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all very well, my dear,” she said to Cecil, “but I shouldn’t -wonder if this riot came in very opportunely for the Pasha. Here he -has the chance of getting rid at once of Azim Bey, who is so -unpopular, and whose very existence drives the Arabs to quarrel, and -of the Balio Bey, who is always giving him good advice. Ah, you may -laugh, but did you ever know any one to like the person who gave him -good advice? Ahmed Khémi Pasha hates Sir Dugald because he knows that -if he had done as he advised all along this would not have happened, -and what could be a neater way of revenging himself than to let the -mob have time to break in and massacre us all? He could punish them -afterwards, and so escape all blame.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what would he do if Azim Bey were killed?” asked Cecil, with a -feeble smile, caused by Lady Haigh’s ineradicable suspiciousness. -</p> - -<p> -“Do? Why, make it up with Hussein Bey, and so have everything -comfortable in the Palace and the city and the whole pashalik, of -course,” replied Lady Haigh, promptly. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was about to remark that in such a case the Pasha would probably -find it hard to deal with the Hajar Arabs, who had adopted Azim Bey’s -cause so zealously; but Lady Haigh was summoned to the roof at this -point by a cry of joy from the Bey himself, who called out that there -was a squadron of cavalry advancing from each end of the street into -which the Residency gate opened. The two bodies were approaching each -other, slowly and determinedly, forcing the sullen mob before them as -they came. The men who had been squabbling over the battering-ram -seemed all at once to determine to unite against this new foe, and -turned to oppose them, whereupon a scene began which made Lady Haigh -retreat down the stairs into the court in horror, but which caused -Azim Bey to clap his hands and shout. The soldiers, with their heavy -sabres, mowed down the mob as they advanced, until the few who were -left broke their ranks and did their best to shrink close to the walls -on either side and slip past the horses. The orders of the troops were -evidently to secure the safety of the Residency and its inhabitants -first, and to leave the punishment of the insurgents until afterwards, -for when once the way was clear they allowed the survivors to escape -if they could. -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey had been cheering on the soldiers from his coign of vantage -on the house-top, but he was the first to descend, and was ready to -meet them when the gate was opened. His fear and his anger and his -excitement had now alike passed away, and he was his usual courteous, -grown-up little self, thanking Sir Dugald for his hospitality and -protection, and Captain Rossiter and the Sepoys for their timely aid. -Notwithstanding his affability, however, he displayed great anxiety to -get back to the Palace, and would not hear of allowing Cecil to remain -at the Residency even for the night, in spite of Lady Haigh’s -declaring that she would not permit her to leave it. It was obviously -impossible for her to mount a donkey, and Charlie was firm on this -point, although, remembering his encounter with Azim Bey, he kept in -the background as much as he could, for fear of getting Cecil into -trouble with her pupil and his father. Baghdad could produce a few -carriages, but the streets were far too rough and narrow to admit of -their use. At last an antiquated litter, borne by two mules, was -procured from the Palace, and Cecil was helped into it and made -comfortable with cushions. Then the gold-embroidered curtains were -drawn, and the procession started, Azim Bey riding in front of the -litter on a horse lent by Sir Dugald, while the soldiers formed an -escort on either side. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, as the party at the -Residency lingered on the verandah after dinner to discuss the -exciting events of the day, “I fancy”—he lowered his voice as he -glanced across at Sir Dugald and Captain Rossiter, who were deep in an -argument on the probable effects of the battering-ram if it had been -used—“I can’t help thinking that that small boy has taken it into his -head to be jealous.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s quite possible, Charlie. My youngest brother was frantically -jealous when I was engaged, though you mayn’t believe it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that was quite different. He had something to take hold of; but -really I can’t think what that little wretch has seen—until to-day, -at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, in her most maternal tone, “let -me give you one piece of advice. You are perfectly at liberty to think -yourself a fool if you like, but never let yourself imagine that Azim -Bey is one. If he ever permits you to think so, that will only show -how well he is fooling you.” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie had leisure to think over this unpalatable remark in the days -that followed, for he and Cecil did not meet again for some time. -Cecil’s foot was very painful, and the pain, combined with the shock -of that eventful day, brought on another attack of fever, which spread -mingled anxiety and hope among the European colony at Baghdad. The -authorities at the French Consulate rejoiced in anticipation of -Cecil’s final removal from the scene, and were prepared with a -candidate of unexceptionable qualifications to supply her place. The -Austrian representative, while preserving an appearance of decorous -sympathy, had his eye on an elderly relative of his own who had -occupied a position in a princely family, and was well suited, both by -character and training, to tread the tortuous paths of domestic -diplomacy. A casual remark dropped by the French Consul in Azim Bey’s -hearing enlightened him as to the intrigues that were maturing, and -the speculations that were abroad as to the issue of his dear -mademoiselle’s illness, and threw him into a pitiable state. He passed -his time in alternate fits of wild despair and petulant anger, which -so affected his father that he sent for his own physician, who was -attending the patient, and ordered him, on pain of death, to effect -her recovery—a command which was received by the hapless man of -medicine with an impassive “If God pleases, it shall be as my lord -wills.” Lady Haigh also was untiring in her care. She came to see -Cecil every day, and often sat with her for hours, only to meet, when -she left the Palace, the reproaches of Charlie, who invariably -accompanied her to the gate, and tried warning, entreaty, and menace -in vain to induce her to take him in with her. -</p> - -<p> -“She ought to see an English doctor,” he urged. “What can this man -know about English constitutions? I have no confidence in him.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I have every confidence in him,” responded Lady Haigh, severely; -“and so has Sir Dugald, and so has the Pasha. Why, you know he was -trained in Germany. Besides, Cecil herself has expressed no wish for a -change of doctors (and I really can’t wonder at it, after your -behaviour the last time you saw her); and you know it would be -absolutely unprofessional for you to intrude uninvited on one of the -<i>hakim bashi’s</i> cases.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do I care about professional etiquette in such a case?” cried -Charlie. “Besides, if we come to that, she was my patient first. -Cousin Elma, let me see her.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed,” said Lady Haigh, resolutely. “You let me in for one -<i>faux pas</i>, Charlie, when you frightened me into sending you to the -Palace before, and that is not a pleasant thing for a woman in my -position to have to remember. How it is that we have never had any -remonstrance about your invasion of the harem precincts on that -occasion I cannot imagine, unless you bribed Masûd heavily. Well, -there is not going to be any repetition of that sort of thing. Cecil -is getting on perfectly well, and Um Yusuf and old Ayesha and Basmeh -Kalfa all nurse her devotedly, so you must be content with that.” -</p> - -<p> -And very much against his will, Charlie was obliged to be content with -that, and did not even see Cecil when she was better, for as soon as -she was convalescent she was sent with Azim Bey and their attendants -to the house of Naimeh Khanum, the Pasha’s married daughter, at -Hillah, to recruit. The journey of fifty miles was performed in great -state, under the conduct of a large escort of mounted Bashi Bazouks. -Three of the Pasha’s own horses, with splendid trappings, were led in -the forefront of the procession, and flags and kettle-drums gave it a -martial air. The way lay entirely through the desert, and the prospect -was always the same, the wide sandy plains being crossed and recrossed -by the dry channels of the ancient irrigation canals, now choked and -useless, even the drinking-water having to be carried in leathern -bottles. At night halts were made at the fortified khans on the road, -where the terror of the Pasha’s name proved sufficient to ensure the -provision of all necessaries for the travellers. The journey was taken -in easy stages, that Cecil’s strength might not be overtasked, and it -was not until four days after leaving Baghdad that the palm-groves and -the mighty rubbish-heaps of Hillah came in sight. Cecil felt her -strength and her enthusiasm revive at the prospect. Before her lay the -ruins of Babylon! She entreated that they might turn aside to visit -them at once, but Um Yusuf proved most unsympathetic, and scornfully -refused to communicate her mistress’s wish to the leader of the -caravan. Who cared about old ruins, haunted by ghouls and jinn, and -just at the fever-time too? Did Mdlle. Antaza wish to throw her life -away? Cecil yielded with a sigh, and the procession passed on through -the palm-groves, where the ripening dates hung like bunches of golden -grapes, to the house of Said Bey, Naimeh Khanum’s husband, who was the -military governor of Hillah. -</p> - -<p> -Here Cecil and her pupil passed several quiet weeks. They did little -exploring, for Cecil was not strong enough for it, and Azim Bey was -deterred by fear of the jinn, but antiquities in abundance were -brought to them to purchase by the Jews of the place, who spent their -lives in searching for them. Azim Bey passed most of his time in his -brother-in-law’s company, riding out with him to hunt, and assisting -him to review his troops, to the intense amusement of Said Bey, who -was a big jolly man, the son of an Irish renegade who had entered the -Turkish service, and preserved some of the national characteristics -even among his oriental surroundings. As for Cecil, she resigned -herself to a thoroughly Eastern existence as a denizen of the harem, -and became better acquainted with the manners and customs of its -inhabitants than she had had opportunity to be during her stay in -Baghdad. Said Bey’s mother was dead, as Naimeh Khanum informed her -with evident relief and gratitude to Providence, and the household was -therefore under the rule of the young wife, who was now much occupied -with a wonderful baby son, of whom Azim Bey was intensely jealous, as -he always was of every one and everything that interfered with the -attention he conceived to be due to his imperious little self. The -proud mother, who had herself enjoyed for a short time the advantage -of the teaching of a European governess, was eager to consult Cecil as -to the best way of educating her boy when he grew older, and many were -the anxious discussions they held under the date-palms in the garden -or in the evening on the terrace. Naimeh Khanum’s lovely face appeared -on almost every page of Cecil’s sketch-book, only rivalled in -popularity by endless studies of the great mounds of Babylon, seen -under every possible variety of light and shade, and the English girl -felt herself strangely drawn to the oriental, who looked out from her -cage at the unknown world with eager inquisitive eyes. They used to -spend hours in conversation, Cecil sketching, Naimeh Khanum busy with -her baby, until the warning cry of “<i>Dastûr!</i>” announced the return -of Said Bey, and Cecil would wrap her veil round her and retire to the -temporary schoolroom, where her pupil would be waiting to tell her of -the day’s adventures. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch13"> -CHAPTER XIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">INSTRUCTION AND INTROSPECTION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">On</span> the last evening of her stay at Hillah, Cecil became acquainted -with an interesting fact concerning Azim Bey which at once touched and -amused her. “A marriage had been arranged” for him long ago with -Safieh Khanum, the little daughter of the Pasha of Mosul, and the -wedding would take place when the bridegroom reached his eighteenth -year. -</p> - -<p> -“My grandmother arranged it,” said Naimeh Khanum, playing with the -bits of red stuff which were sewn to her baby’s cap to keep off the -evil eye. “The Pasha is a man of the old school, and a very rigid -Mussulman, and the Um-ul-Pasha thinks that Safieh Khanum will keep my -brother back from becoming altogether a Frangi.” -</p> - -<p> -“But have they never seen one another, poor little things?” asked -Cecil. “What a pity that you couldn’t have asked the little girl to -stay with you while we were here. They might have taken a fancy to -each other.” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Fi donc</i>, mademoiselle!” laughed Naimeh Khanum. “You don’t think -that Safieh Khanum’s parents would ever have allowed such a thing? -Besides, in no case would she be allowed to come near you, or under -your influence. They would be afraid of your making her a Christian.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Azim Bey is always with me,” objected Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“That is different,” said Azim Bey’s sister; “he is a boy. They know -that there is no danger for him. But what has Islam for a woman?” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you felt this, Khanum?” asked Cecil, in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“How can I help it? I have read your books, I have seen the difference -between your life and ours,” said Naimeh Khanum. “Our people think -justly that there is little need for fear in the case of boys like my -brother. They read of Christianity, they see your laws and their -results, they think it is all very good. They are also taught our -religion, and they say: ‘It is destiny. I was born a Mussulman. My -father and all my ancestors were good Moslems. Why should I change a -religion that was good enough for them?’ In this way they agree -together to dismiss the subject. They have many things to occupy their -thoughts, and if in their secret hearts they know that Christianity is -better, it does not trouble them themselves, and they say nothing to -any one else. They have all they want, but with us it is different. -All the long, long hours—what can we do but think and wish? They -should not have educated us, have let us read about your beautiful -life in Frangistan, if they wished us to remain contented with what -satisfied our grandmothers. We are tired of our jewels, and our -novels, and our embroidery; tired of making sweetmeats and eating -them; we are so tired—you cannot imagine how tired—of being shut up -always in the same rooms, with the same faces round us. We are not -like birds or wild animals, to be kept in cages, we have minds and -hearts, and we want to be able to go out in the world with our -husbands, and enter into all they do.” -</p> - -<p> -“But couldn’t you do that now—partially at least?” suggested Cecil, -diffidently, surprised by this passionate outburst from languid-eyed, -contented Naimeh Khanum. -</p> - -<p> -“How can we?” she asked. “Our husbands go out into society without us. -They meet the Frangi ladies, talk to them, dance with them, and then -come home to us, poor ignorant creatures, who cannot talk to them of -the things they care for, and don’t know how to please them when we -are most anxious to do it. Our husbands are the sun to us; we are less -than the moon to them.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how can any one help you if you don’t help yourselves?” asked -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“What are we to do?” asked Naimeh Khanum. “They say that our rights -are secured to us by law, but what we want is the sole right to our -own husbands. With that we might be able to do something, but how dare -a woman be anything but submissive when she may find herself divorced, -or set aside for another wife, on account of the slightest effort for -freedom? We need martyrs in our cause; but who will be the first? How -can a woman who loves her husband, slight as her hold is on him, -alienate herself from him deliberately?” -</p> - -<p> -“But you cannot fear anything of the kind with Said Bey,” said Cecil, -losing sight of the general question in this particular case. “He -would never set you aside for another wife.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, because I am the Pasha’s daughter. But he has the right. Suppose -my father fell into disgrace, or anything happened to my boy,” and she -made with a horrified look the sign for averting the evil eye, “who -would stand up for me then? Almost every one has more than one wife; -why should I expect my husband to be the exception? There is my -father, he is considered a liberal-minded man, of most advanced views, -and yet he has just married a fourth wife. It was all arranged when -you were ill, so I suppose you did not hear much about it; but she is -coming here with him to-morrow. She is Jamileh<a href="#fn03b" id="fn03a">[03]</a> Khanum, the -daughter of his old friend, Tahir Pasha. Her father is also a -reformer, and she has had an English governess, and been brought up -entirely <i>alla Franca</i>, but she can’t refuse to become the fourth wife -of a man almost old enough to be her grandfather.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what can remedy this?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Only Christianity,” said Naimeh Khanum. “They have tried culture and -civilisation, but it has done no good. Our men do not care to raise us -even to their own level.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then why are you not a Christian?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Because I have too much to leave,” said Naimeh Khanum, slowly and -deliberately. “I cannot give up my husband and child. As it says in -one of your books which I have read, I have given hostages to fortune. -Listen! there is Said Bey coming in. I must go to meet him. Adieu, -mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -And she was gone, leaving Cecil to meditate on the unexpected -revelation she had received. It was with deep sadness and remorse that -she took her way to the room where Azim Bey was waiting for her, for -who could say how much she might have helped this struggling soul in -all these weeks if she had only known? Poor Naimeh Khanum! she was -longing for the temporal blessings of Christianity without thought of -the spiritual. They had no further opportunity for conversation, but -Cecil did the best she could for her friend. Wrapping up carefully a -little New Testament in Arabic which she had received from Dr Yehudi, -she placed it where Naimeh Khanum would be sure to find it, with a -prayer that the seeker might be led into the light. -</p> - -<p> -The next day Ahmed Khémi Pasha arrived, accompanied by his bride, and -attended by a magnificent retinue. There was only time for a formal -interchange of visits between Naimeh Khanum and her new stepmother, -for the Pasha was making a progress through his dominions, and it was -already late in the year. It would have been equally undesirable for -Azim Bey and his governess to return to Baghdad in the Pasha’s -absence, and to remain at Hillah, tasking the resources of Said Bey -for the maintenance of themselves and their attendants, and their -cavalcade was accordingly merged in the larger one, they themselves -losing their comparative importance, and becoming part of the harem -procession under the lead of Jamileh Khanum, who travelled in state at -its head in a highly ornamental <i>takhtrevan</i>, or mule-litter. -</p> - -<p> -In honour of his marriage, the Pasha had remitted a large proportion -of the obnoxious taxes which had contributed so largely to swell the -distress of the province, and this had restored much of his -popularity. There was also every prospect of a good corn and fruit -harvest, the latter very important to the dwellers in the regions -around Baghdad; and as time went on, and this promise was fulfilled, -past irritation was forgotten, and the people returned to their usual -condition of sleepy contentment. Azim Bey attracted no unfriendly -attention, and Cecil went through the tour in safe and undistinguished -obscurity. Jamileh Khanum monopolised the attention of the Pasha, and -was the undisputed head of her own portion of the assemblage. She was -a young lady of some shrewdness and much ambition, and had signalised -the short period she had spent at Baghdad by such a violent quarrel -with the Um-ul-Pasha, that her husband dared not leave her behind in -the Palace. With a natural instinct to like everything that the -Um-ul-Pasha disliked, she had come prepared to patronise Azim Bey and -Mademoiselle Antaza, and she and Cecil got on very well together. -England was their great theme of conversation, for Jamileh Khanum -cherished a secret hope that she might one day prevail upon the Pasha -to take her there on a visit. With this in view, she was eager to -learn from Cecil all she could with regard to English customs and -etiquette, although she maintained throughout a lively sense of the -difference of position between the great lady and the governess. Cecil -found her very amusing, but Azim Bey, who was wont to sit by and look -on at the conversations with unwinking black eyes, mistrusted the -“little lady mother,” as he called his father’s youngest wife. -</p> - -<p> -“It is all petting and sweetmeats now, mademoiselle,” he said to his -governess, “but wait until she has a son of her own.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that can make no difference to you, Bey,” said Cecil. “You have -his Excellency’s promise, given to your mother.” -</p> - -<p> -“On whom be peace!” said Azim Bey, quickly. “But if I were dead, -mademoiselle? You have seen already how greatly I am beloved in the -harem.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be so suspicious,” said Cecil. “I thought you prided yourself -on your strength of mind?” -</p> - -<p> -“So be it, mademoiselle,” said the boy. “What is to happen will -happen. We shall see.” -</p> - -<p> -In spite of these little rubs, however, the journeying life was very -pleasant to Cecil, and she even looked forward with a certain degree -of dread to the time when she must exchange the blue wrapper and high -boots she wore in riding for the trailing dress and white sheet of the -Palace. Everything out here was so entirely new, and she was separated -from the troublesome personal questions and problems which had worried -her lately at Baghdad. In these the chief factor was Charlie Egerton. -She had never seen him since the day of the riot, when he had so -suddenly and unwarrantably kissed her hand, but this was by her own -wish, for she felt that she did not know how to meet him again. Anger -at his presumption, and rage against herself for the display of -weakness which had emboldened him to the act, combined to embitter her -against him. And yet she could not keep him out of her thoughts. Her -mind dwelt on the scene at the Residency so constantly that she became -alarmed. What did all this mean? She must get away from Dr Egerton’s -disturbing influence, and think the matter out calmly. With this in -view, she had acquiesced in hurrying on her departure from Baghdad -without seeing him, and she had since taken full advantage of her -opportunity for thought. -</p> - -<p> -She had never exactly formulated to herself her views of an ideal -lover, but she was vaguely conscious that, allowing for the difference -of standpoint, her requirements were much on a level with those of the -seventeenth-century poet who sang the praises of the “not impossible -she.” And here, as she could not help perceiving, was the real -lover—Charlie Egerton, frivolous, unstable, unsuccessful. These were -the hard epithets she applied to him, while all the while admitting to -herself that she could not help liking him, and that there was -something noble and quixotic about his unfortunate efforts to keep -other people up to their duty. But here again the softness of her own -mood alarmed her, and she proceeded to examine into her feelings with -all the systematic thoroughness of a practised student of mental -science. After long cogitation, and much analysis of complex emotions -into their elements, she came to the conclusion that she was not in -love with Charlie. She even assured herself that she despised him a -little, and this was obviously an insurmountable bar to love. But the -chief drawback to the introspective method of studying mental -phenomena is, as the text-books tell us, the danger of the mind’s -forgetting its own states, or even misinterpreting them, owing to the -distracting influence of personal fears and wishes. This Cecil forgot, -while assuring herself that her clear duty now was to show Charlie -plainly what her feelings were. It would be unkind to allow him to -labour any longer under a delusion, and she became at last almost -anxious to return to Baghdad, for the sake of undeceiving him. -</p> - -<p> -By the time that this desirable conclusion was reached, the steps of -the travellers were really turned homewards. Jamileh Khanum was tired -of wandering, and if the truth must be told, was “spoiling for a -fight” with the Um-ul-Pasha. Where every one was anxious to do what -she wished, there was no excuse for bad temper, and she felt that her -choicest weapons were being wasted, while the enemy was doubtless -making the best use of her time by entrenching herself more strongly. -Accordingly, the young lady intimated to her husband that the tour had -lasted long enough, and the Pasha gave orders for the return. His -Excellency’s long absence had so far made the heart of the Baghdadis -grow fonder that they pressed to meet him and greeted him with -acclamations, which were especially pleasing to him as tending to -prove that the Balio Bey had been wrong in his dismal -prognostications. Even Azim Bey received a special ovation, and the -official who had acted as the Pasha’s deputy in his absence reported -that Sir Dugald Haigh, and the English colony generally, had quite -regained their former popularity. -</p> - -<p> -As for Cecil, she felt as though she were returning home, and the -sight of the Residency almost brought tears to her eyes. She could -scarcely wait until Sunday to get news of her friends, and they on -their part gave her the warmest of welcomes when her donkey reached -the great gate. Lady Haigh exclaimed on her improved appearance, Sir -Dugald paid her a courtly compliment on her looks, and Captain -Rossiter and the other young men who were employed at the Consulate in -various capacities expressed in their faces as much pleasure and -admiration as they dared. But there was something wanting even in this -wealth of greeting. Charlie Egerton did not appear, nor add his voice -to the chorus. Although Cecil had come back resolved to snub and -repress him,—for his own good, of course,—she could not help feeling -that there was undeserved unkindness in this absolute neglect. He must -have known that she was coming home, and that he should have chosen -this special occasion on which to visit old Isaac Azevedo, or even Dr -Yehudi, showed a callousness which she had not expected in him. It was -not until she was closeted with Lady Haigh for a good talk, after -morning service, that she heard the reason of Charlie’s absence. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” cried Lady Haigh, when Cecil had remarked casually that she -supposed Dr Egerton was visiting some of his friends, “Charlie isn’t -in Baghdad at all. Haven’t you heard? He has been sent off on an -expedition into the Bakhtiari country, and may be away for months.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed!” said Cecil. It was all that she could say. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, indeed. And you never heard about it? Well, I will tell you. You -know that there has been a good deal of talk lately about a mysterious -epidemic which has sprung up among the Bakhtiaris, and seemed to be -spreading along the Gulf? The Indian Government were getting very -nervous about it, and Sir Dugald has had a great deal of -correspondence with them on the subject. At last it was suggested that -a medical commission should visit the district, and try to find out -the root of the disease, and see exactly what conditions caused it to -spread. The idea was taken up, and it was settled that the commission -should consist of a doctor sent by the Shah (the Bakhtiaris are under -Persia, you know), and Charlie, representing our Government. They know -his worth, you see, though they have treated him so badly. And so he -started, just a fortnight ago now.” -</p> - -<p> -“And of course he was glad to go? It must have been like going back to -his old ways again,” said Cecil. Lady Haigh turned upon her a look of -scorn. -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie has quite given up his old wandering ways,” she said, “and no -one ought to know that better than you, Cecil. He has settled down -into steady work, and gets on splendidly with Sir Dugald. Of course he -was glad to get the medical experience involved in this journey—I -won’t pretend he wasn’t. But he was most unwilling to go just when you -were coming home; in fact,” added Lady Haigh, forgetting her previous -laudation of Charlie’s steady work, “it was all I could do to keep him -from throwing up the whole thing, and he is determined to be back by -Christmas.” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Haigh might have told much more if she had wished to do so, but -she was a discreet woman, and was rarely tempted into obscuring a -general effect by excess of detail. Charlie had not accepted the fact -of his temporary exile by any means in a spirit of resignation, and -his long-suffering cousin had had to endure a good deal before he -finally departed. His chief objection to leaving his post had been the -possibility that some epidemic might break out in his absence, and -sweep away the whole European population of Baghdad; but Lady Haigh -pooh-poohed his anxiety, and assured him that the surgeon of the -<i>Nausicaa</i> was fully competent to fill his place. -</p> - -<p> -“And you know, Charlie,” she said, “this appointment will bring you -before the public, and may do you a great deal of good. It is a thing -after your own heart, and you ought to be grateful for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“What I am thinking of, Cousin Elma,” he replied, solemnly, “is that -if I am away at Christmas, I may lose everything that would make all -this any good to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear boy, what can you mean?” asked Lady Haigh, revolving various -possibilities in her mind. “Oh, I know!” she cried at last. “You mean -that Cecil’s first two years at Baghdad will be over a day or two -before Christmas, and that she can’t go on without signing a new -agreement?” -</p> - -<p> -“And that before she signs it I am to have my chance,” added Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, of course,” said Lady Haigh, hastily. “You have been a very good -boy, Charlie, and obeyed me splendidly, but lately I have noticed a -sort of I-bide-my-time air about you, which didn’t look well. You -shall have your chance, certainly, but I wouldn’t advise you to be too -sure about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not,” said Charlie, “but I mean to have it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, my dear boy,” went on his cousin, soothingly, “travelling as -lightly as you do, you will be well able to be back before Christmas, -you see. The new agreement need not be signed until Christmas Eve, and -if you are not back then it will be your own fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“But something might prevent me,” he said, dolefully; “and only think -if I came back and found that she had bound herself for another three -years of slavery to that child!” -</p> - -<p> -“You think that you could prevent it if you were here?” asked Lady -Haigh, in the tone that she had used once before when casting a doubt -on the likelihood of Charlie’s success. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know,” he said, humbly enough, “but I almost think, if I had -her alone, and could make her listen to me, that I could.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that you must settle for yourself, of course. I will do my best -for you, Charlie. Supposing (but I don’t in the least anticipate it) -that you are not back by Christmas Eve, I will tell Cecil the state of -things before she signs the agreement. It may be that she is more -homesick and tired of her work than she seems, and that she will be -willing to listen to the proposal, but I can’t promise you success. I -only say I will do what I can, for you have been very obedient, and -behaved very well. That’s all I can promise.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you awfully, Cousin Elma. It’s very good of you. Only wouldn’t -it save you the trouble if I wrote to her now, before I went?” -</p> - -<p> -“What! you haven’t had enough of Azim Bey and his suspicions yet?” -asked Lady Haigh; and as Charlie shrugged his shoulders in silence, -she went on with much animation, “Charlie, I really must have it out -with you, though I know it’s no good, but I will never refer to it -again. Has it ever struck you how very foolish you are? Either by -misfortune or by your own fault you have lost most of your chances, -and come to be regarded either as a cranky clever fellow or as a -pleasant good sort of man, but a most unlucky one. You ought to be -thankful if you could get the most commonplace, unsophisticated girl -that was ever brought up in a remote country village at home to take -you, but no—you must fly high. You fall in love with a girl who is -clever herself and can’t help knowing it, who has had unusual -advantages in the way of education, and whose talents command a fair -market value. It is to her interest not to marry you, and you will -probably get into trouble even if you are merely engaged, and she -laughs at you continually. Why don’t you give her up?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know,” said Charlie, meditatively. “Because I love her, I -suppose, Cousin Elma. I had rather she laughed at me than forgot me, -at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear boy!” said Lady Haigh, and kissed him, impulsively. “If only -Cecil knew you as you really are!” -</p> - -<p> -But Cecil did not know, and yet she cried herself to sleep when she -went back to the Palace that night. It could not have been on account -of Charlie’s absence, for she had satisfied herself that she did not -love him, and it could scarcely have been because he had missed his -snubbing, and therefore it must have been, as she said to herself the -next morning, that she was tired and excited from seeing so many old -friends again. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch14"> -CHAPTER XIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A SPOKE IN HIS WHEEL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Neither</span> Cecil nor Azim Bey ever referred in words to the approaching -termination of the former’s engagement. Cecil had never in the -slightest degree hesitated in her resolution to bind herself to remain -at Baghdad for the further period of three years. The letters from -Whitcliffe had of late been so uniformly cheerful in tone with respect -to Fitz and Terry, for the expenses of whose education she had now for -two years been wholly responsible, that she could not but conquer her -longing to see the dear home faces once more, and decide to remain a -member of his Excellency’s household. Then, too, her little pupil had -endeared himself to her, jealous and exacting though he often was, and -she could not bear to think of leaving him. Thus her mind was made up, -and she had no anticipation of anything that might interfere to -prevent the signing of the agreement. -</p> - -<p> -As for Azim Bey, his silence did not arise from lack of interest in -the matter. He knew as well as Charlie did when the first agreement -lapsed, and throughout the tour from which they had just returned his -mind had been busy on the subject. Over and over again, when he seemed -merely to be contemplating the beauties of nature, or listening -attentively to the morals which Cecil did her best to deduce for him -from the various scenes and incidents of their daily life, he was -occupied in planning schemes by which his governess’s further stay -might be ensured. It was clear to him that the cardinal point was that -Charlie should be absent from Baghdad when the agreement was signed. -Azim Bey’s dislike for the surgeon of the Consulate was not a feeling -of gradual growth, but had sprung up, fully matured, on the occasion -of Charlie’s unauthorised intrusion into the harem. With a good deal -of natural shrewdness, and a great deal of precocity, stimulated by -the unchildlike life he had led, and the books in which he had -delighted, the boy had divined Charlie’s secret, and marked him at -once as an enemy. By catechising Cecil after all her visits to the -Residency, he arrived at the knowledge that she always saw Dr Egerton -there; and he remarked that she generally spoke of him with a sigh, -but what this sigh meant he could not decide. In any case, he was -fully persuaded that it would be far better for mademoiselle to remain -with him for the next three years than to marry Dr Egerton. She was -doing so much with her earnings for those brothers of hers (whom Azim -Bey regarded with interest not unmingled with contempt, as creatures -who existed for little else but to play pranks for his entertainment) -that she certainly ought not to leave them in the lurch. He had never -given a second thought to his loudly expressed intention of marrying -her himself—which indeed had only been uttered in the hope of -shocking his grandmother—and had resigned himself with philosophic -indifference to the prospect of the bride who had been chosen for him; -but he had some idea that when his education was finished, his father, -or rather Jamileh Khanum, might find mademoiselle a suitable husband -in some rich Armenian, so that she might continue to live in Baghdad, -and he might consult her when he needed advice. In any case, Dr -Egerton, who had unintentionally made himself peculiarly disagreeable -to the Bey, was out of the question, and must be got rid of. -</p> - -<p> -It might have been supposed that the simplest plan would have been to -appeal to Cecil herself, and secure her promise to stay on in her -situation; but such a proceeding was quite contrary to Azim Bey’s -character and habits. His instinct was to work underground, and he -heartily detested anything like plain questions and straightforward -answers. “People in love always told lies,” was the impression left -upon his mind by his French novels; and even if mademoiselle should -prove an exception, what good would it do to hear her say that she -meant to leave Baghdad? A straightforward answer of that kind could -not easily be explained away, whereas if everything were left in a -misty, nebulous condition, with nothing determined, and nothing -definite said, it ought to prove easy to find opportunities for action -and loopholes for interference. That mademoiselle might, quite without -her own knowledge, be managed into staying, if only Dr Egerton did not -appear and interrupt the process, he had no doubt, and he began to -revolve schemes for delaying his return. It was evident even now that -matters must be run very close if Charlie was to be back a week before -Christmas, and it seemed to Azim Bey that it ought not to be -impossible, considering the absence of roads and the difficulties of -obtaining transport in the Bakhtiari country, to make him arrive from -ten days to a fortnight late. This was all that would be necessary. -</p> - -<p> -It was easy to see what ought to be done; the difficulty now came in -of finding the person to do it. If only the Pasha had been in the -secret, private instructions from him to the khan-keepers along the -route to delay the progress of the travellers as much as possible, and -to the postmasters to show no particular zeal in providing -baggage-animals, would have settled everything; but Azim Bey did not -wish to call in his father’s help. It was doubtful even whether it -would have been given; for instructions of this kind, recommending -dilatoriness, had an unpleasant knack of becoming public at wrong -times, and the Pasha was always anxious not to give undue cause of -offence to the Balio Bey. In any case, his Excellency might think his -son’s desires inexpedient, and interfere to prevent their realisation; -and this would be much worse for Azim Bey than merely being thrown on -his own resources. Still, he found life very weary and perplexing -while he tried to think of the right person to employ as his -instrument in effecting his purpose. -</p> - -<p> -Masûd and the rest of the servants he dismissed from his thoughts at -once, they were too stolid, and would not make good intriguers. But -Azim Bey had not been brought up in an atmosphere of intrigue for -nothing; he knew exactly the kind of person who was fitted to -undertake what Charlie Egerton called “dirty work,” and the consuls, -more euphemistically, “secret missions.” Not quite for the first time, -he began to regret that he had cut himself off so entirely from M. -Karalampi, and to think that he might have refused his books without -scathing him so fiercely with virtuous indignation. There were plenty -of other disreputable Greek and Levantine hangers-on at the Palace who -might have been intrusted with the business, but men of this stamp -were always ready, if anything led to the failure of their -negotiations, to save themselves by splitting upon their employers. M. -Karalampi alone, in such a case, never betrayed the interests he -represented. He bore the blame of those involved and the scorn or -execration of outsiders, he submitted to have his credentials denied -and his action disavowed, and indemnified himself for it all on the -next occasion. Such traits made him invaluable, and had probably -contributed to his unusually long and successful career. -</p> - -<p> -When there is mischief to be done, it is seldom that tools are wanting -for the accomplishment of it, and when Azim Bey had been thinking of -M. Karalampi for some days as a possible helper, he suddenly found -himself face to face with him. It was in the early morning, when the -boy had gone to pay his usual visit to his father as he dressed. -Important despatches had just arrived, however, and the Pasha must not -be disturbed in the perusal of them. In a very bad temper, Azim Bey -settled himself in the anteroom, where visitors were wont to wait for -audience of his Excellency. Only one other person occupied the room at -present, and this was M. Karalampi, who saluted Azim Bey respectfully, -and then retired to the farthest corner, to intimate that he had no -desire to force himself upon him after the rebuff he had received more -than a year ago. From his distant seat, however, he watched the boy’s -face narrowly, and read the varying thoughts which passed through his -mind. Pride and eagerness were contending for the mastery, and M. -Karalampi watched for the right moment at which to intervene. He had -not heard any of the circumstances, but hastily coupling with the -deductions he drew from Azim Bey’s perturbed face, Charlie’s -often-repeated intention of returning before Christmas (for he was -well up in the gossip of the various consulates), he formed a working -hypothesis, and proceeded to put it to the test. Approaching the divan -on which Azim Bey was seated, he asked casually after the health of -Mademoiselle Antaza, “<i>cette dame si aimable et si savante</i>,” to whom -the Bey was so deeply attached. -</p> - -<p> -If Azim Bey had known that to the list of his employers M. Karalampi -had lately added the name of the Um-ul-Pasha, he might have been -suspicious, but he was so much relieved to find the conversation -brought without his assistance to the very subject he wished to reach, -that he answered politely at once that mademoiselle enjoyed the best -of health. -</p> - -<p> -“But the Bey Effendi will soon lose mademoiselle; is it not so?” was -M. Karalampi’s next question. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean, monsieur?” asked the boy, startled. -</p> - -<p> -M. Karalampi shrugged his shoulders. “All the world says that she will -marry at Christmas the surgeon of the English Consulate,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“But she shall not,” cried Azim Bey. “Listen, monsieur; I need your -help. He must be delayed in returning. He is not to be killed, nor -hurt, because he saved mademoiselle and me in the riot, but simply -kept back. Manage this, and I am your friend for life.” -</p> - -<p> -To recover his old position in the Bey’s confidence was M. Karalampi’s -great object at this time, and he was also not averse to doing a bad -turn to Cecil, but he looked serious and reflective. -</p> - -<p> -“Do I understand you, Bey Effendi?” he asked. “There are to be -difficulties among the tribes, you say, and Dr Egerton is to be -detained for the sake of his own personal safety, while he is still at -some distance from Baghdad?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, that is it,” cried Azim Bey; “and no letters must pass.” -</p> - -<p> -“That goes without saying,” said M. Karalampi, “and it will not be -difficult to find a cause of quarrel between the Hajar and their -neighbours, the Fazz. But in the Bakhtiari country there are many -robbers, and Englishmen are brave. Why should not the caravan be -attacked, and Dr Egerton and the other doctor killed in repelling the -thieves? That would get rid of him altogether, and no one could ever -know.” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey turned a little pale. His schemes had not reached the point -of plotting murder, but the idea seemed to come so quickly and -naturally to M. Karalampi that he was afraid of appearing timid and -cowardly if he told him so. However, a happy thought occurred to him. -</p> - -<p> -“It is no use trying to work through the Bakhtiaris,” he said. “They -love the English, and might even tell him what we had arranged with -them to do. And the Arabs must not kill him, for the Balio Bey would -demand blood-money, and my father would be obliged to go to war with -my own people to get it paid. No, they must only keep him back, -protesting their love to the Pasha and to the English all the time. -They will not allow him to go to his death, they must say, and no man -can cross the Fazz country safely just then.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Bey Effendi is very wise,” said M. Karalampi, “and it rejoices me -to be able to serve him once more. But I must have some token from him -to show to the Hajar sheikhs, or they will laugh at my beard, and I -shall come back a fool.” -</p> - -<p> -With trembling fingers Azim Bey unfastened the Hajar amulet which his -Arab mother had hung round his neck when he was a baby. “It will bring -all the tribesmen of the Hajar to thy help if thou art in danger, my -son,” she had assured him, and his kinsmen in the tribe had told him -the same thing since. -</p> - -<p> -“Take it,” he said, “but give it back to me. No Hajar dare disregard -it. But take care not to leave it in the tents, lest Dr Egerton see -it, and perceive whose it is. Mademoiselle must never know of this.” -</p> - -<p> -“She never shall,” said M. Karalampi, and he departed with his prize. -Fortune had favoured him beyond his hopes, and he saw himself, in -imagination, restored to his former place in Azim Bey’s esteem, and -able to manipulate his actions in the interest of his other employers. -As for Azim Bey himself, he felt quite satisfied with the arrangement -he had made, and returned to his governess with a light heart and an -unclowded brow. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s visits to the Residency that autumn were almost confined to -the Sundays. She explained to Lady Haigh that she had arranged a -special course of study with her pupil, which must not on any account -be interrupted, after the desultory way in which the summer had been -spent, and she adhered to this plan with the utmost rigour, never -acknowledging, even to herself, that the Residency seemed in some way -empty and desolate just now. Sunday by Sunday she said to herself, -hopefully, “Perhaps he came back last night,” but the weeks passed on, -and he did not come, and Cecil cried herself to sleep at nights, and -assured herself all the time that she did not love him, and that it -was only because she was disappointed. Thus the days went by quietly -enough until Christmas week approached. Still Charlie had not -returned, although his letters to Lady Haigh announced that he had -started upon the homeward journey. They were rather despondent in -their tone, for his medical inquiries had occupied a longer time than -he had calculated, but they all breathed a spirit of unconquerable -determination to be back by the day before Christmas Eve, or die. Even -if he had to tramp from Mohammerah to Baghdad, he would do it. But he -reckoned without Azim Bey. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was to spend Christmas at the Residency. From the morning of -Christmas Eve to the evening of Christmas Day she was to have her time -absolutely to herself, and on Christmas Eve Denarien Bey and other -officials were to bring the new agreement and present it for her -signature. Azim Bey watched her depart without misgivings. His plans -were laid securely, and if they did not come to a satisfactory -conclusion, M. Karalampi would pay the penalty. Cecil nodded and -kissed her hand to him as she started on her ride to the Residency, -and he noticed that her white sheet was fastened with the elaborately -wrought and jewelled brooch he had presented to her that morning, in -pursuance of what he understood was the correct English custom. He was -pleased with the honour shown to his gift, and accepted it as a good -omen, and therefore he waved his hand gaily to Cecil, and called out -that he would not torment old Ayesha, his nurse, more than he could -possibly help while she was away. -</p> - -<p> -Arrived at the Residency, Cecil found Lady Haigh in an extremely -perturbed state of mind. Charlie had not returned, and no notice of -his approach had been received; moreover, there were rumours of -troubles between the Hajar and the Fazz tribes in the very district -through which he had to pass. In the course of a few hours Denarien -Bey would bring the agreement to be signed, and if Charlie had not -returned by that time, she would be obliged to speak to Cecil on his -behalf, a prospect which filled her with nervous dread. To add to her -perplexities, she had all the Christmas decorations on her hands, as -well as the preparations for the Christmas Day festivities, in which -she was handicapped by an undying feud which existed between such of -the servants as were Hindus on one side, and Agoop Aga, the -major-domo, and the natives of the country, on the other. With a vague -idea of putting off the evil day, she accepted Cecil’s offer to see to -the decorations and the arrangement of the <i>menu</i> for the morrow’s -dinner-party, and departed to look to the ways of her household. But -this delay was of no avail, for lunch-time arrived, and no Charlie. -Denarien Bey was coming at three o’clock, and with beating heart poor -Lady Haigh perceived that she must speak to Cecil. There was no time -to lose, and after lunch she called the girl into her boudoir and -prepared to make the attempt. She knew that she could not plead -Charlie’s cause with anything approaching the fervour he himself would -have used; nay, she had an uneasy consciousness that if Cecil accepted -him she would consider her an arrant fool for giving up her present -position for his sake. But she was fond of Charlie, and sympathised -with him on account of his patient waiting, and she felt herself bound -by her promise to do the best she could for him. -</p> - -<p> -“Cecil, my dear,” she said, when she had got Cecil settled at last, -after several vain attempts to reason her into a properly serious -state of mind, “Denarien Bey will come with the agreement very soon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes?” said Cecil, springing up from her chair and adjusting the -striped scarf which draped a portrait on the wall. “But don’t let us -talk of business now, Lady Haigh. These two days are my holidays, you -know, and I want to enjoy them. This is a new photograph of Sir -Dugald, isn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, my dear child,” entreated Lady Haigh, “do be serious. I have -something so very important to say to you. I don’t know how to say it, -but I promised Charlie, and I wish I hadn’t. Do listen to me quietly.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil dropped into a chair, not that in which she had been sitting -before, but a low one in the shade of the curtain, and composed -herself to listen, for Lady Haigh’s voice sounded as though tears were -not far off. -</p> - -<p> -“Poor Charlie has not come back in time,” went on the elder lady, -sadly, “and he was so very anxious to speak to you himself. But I must -do it, or you will sign the agreement without knowing. He has been in -love with you a long time, Cecil, ever since he has known you, in -fact, and he wanted to ask you to marry him on the way up the river, -but I wouldn’t let him. I promised him that if he would let you alone -for the first two years, to give you a fair chance of seeing how you -could get on, he should speak to you before you signed the new -agreement. Well, he isn’t here, so I must speak instead. He is very -much in love with you, my dear, though I should think you know that as -well as I do, and if you don’t, Azim Bey does. He has some money of -his own, and Sir Dugald feels now that he can conscientiously put in a -good word for him with the Indian Government if there is any question -of another appointment, and he is a dear fellow. There! I know I am -not putting things properly, but I don’t know how to manage it. He -can’t bear to think of your slaving, as he calls it, with Azim Bey all -day; he wants you to be raised above the necessity of working for your -family. He need not stay out here, you know, if it were not that he -loves the East so much, he has a good property at home,—and he is a -generous fellow. I am sure I may say that your little brothers would -not suffer from the change. I might talk to you about a good position, -and all that sort of thing, but I don’t believe it would affect you. -All I can say is, Cecil, don’t let my blundering way of speaking for -him prejudice you against the poor fellow, for he really is head over -ears in love with you. Sometimes I think you don’t appreciate him -properly, but remember, he has waited patiently for two whole years, -and only refrained from speaking out of pure consideration for you, -lest you should be compromised in your new position. You have never -shown him any special encouragement, always laughing at him and -teasing him as you do, but he has never wavered, so if you can find it -in your heart to say yes, do be kind to the poor boy.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a few minutes’ silence, while the clock ticked heavily. Lady -Haigh glanced nervously at Cecil, sitting in the deep orange shade of -the curtain, but could read nothing from her face. At last the girl -spoke, slowly and with some hesitation. -</p> - -<p> -“I am glad you have spoken to me, Lady Haigh, for it seems to make it -easier—I mean—yes, it is easier—to see the right course than if Dr -Egerton had asked me himself. I think I am bound in honour to consider -my duty to my employer, and to go on with my work. The Pasha has acted -most kindly and honourably by me, and he wishes me to carry on Azim -Bey’s education. I can’t feel that it would be right, after all the -trouble and expense he has had, to throw up my situation for the sake -of a—well, of personal feelings. I think the Pasha would have a right -to say he didn’t think much of Christianity if I treated him in that -way, and I have tried not to hide my colours in the Palace. I think it -is only right for me to go on as I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you don’t mind my having told you, dear? You are not angry with -Charlie? What will you say to him?” -</p> - -<p> -“That is scarcely a fair question, Lady Haigh,” said Cecil, pausing -with her hand upon the door, but keeping very much in the shade of the -curtain; “or did Dr Egerton depute you to receive his answer as well -as to plead his cause?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, she shan’t get off like that,” said Lady Haigh to herself, as the -door closed behind her young friend. “Charlie shall have his chance -when he comes back and speak for himself, and I am very much mistaken -if he doesn’t get a little hope to help him through the next three -years.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch15"> -CHAPTER XV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AFTER ALL——</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">But</span> Christmas Eve passed on, the new agreement was brought and -signed, and still Charlie did not come. The other young men looked at -one another and laughed when they found that he had not appeared, and -one or two betrayed symptoms of an inclination to take his place and -monopolise Cecil. But they had no chance, as they were ready to -acknowledge ruefully at night; for even if Miss Anstruther had been -willing to let herself be monopolised, Lady Haigh would not have -allowed it. She was very particular in keeping the conversation -general in the drawing-room that evening, and in checking any tendency -towards confidential talks. Captain Rossiter did once by a bold stroke -succeed in getting Cecil to linger at the piano, trying over the -accompaniment of a new song which had just reached him from England; -but before he could guide the conversation round to anything more -interesting than key-notes and sharps, Lady Haigh moved over to a -chair close to the instrument, and the rest of the company followed. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil did not sleep much that night. She had made definitely the -momentous decision which had been confronting her for so long, and had -signed away her liberty for three years more, but it was not the -thought of this that kept her awake. She had heard Charlie Egerton’s -love declared, though not by himself, and the recollection made her -heart beat fast. Even if (and she was not quite so sure about this as -she had been a little while ago)—even if she did not love him, she -could not but feel touched both by his affection and his constancy. -But why had he not come back? Why, after declaring so openly his -intention of returning, had he lingered until after she had bound -herself to remain in Baghdad? What had detained him? Had anything -happened to involve him in one of the border disputes which were -continually occurring between the Arab tribes, or had the spell of the -old wandering life regained its power over him? If it were really the -latter, Cecil felt that he might as well spare himself the trouble of -coming back at all, so far as she was concerned. Ever since she had -first met him she had deliberately thrown her influence into the scale -against his nomadic tastes, trying to induce him to settle down -steadily, and do his best, by persistent attention to duty, to -counteract the effects of his earlier erratic proceedings. It was a -pity, she had felt sometimes, that a man whose nature revelled in the -unusual and the unconventional should be guided so strenuously into -the beaten track, where another, with natural gifts of a far less -remarkable order, would have filled his place with much more -satisfaction to himself and to his superiors. -</p> - -<p> -But it was all for Charlie’s own good. It must be to his advantage to -be held back from sacrificing all his prospects to the impulse of a -moment, and Lady Haigh had been unremitting in impressing upon Cecil -that whereas an eccentric, harum-scarum genius might do a great deal -in the way of contributions to inexact science, the Indian Government, -and indeed all governments, preferred the steady man who could be -trusted to keep in the line marked out for him. Almost unconsciously -Cecil had been setting this as a kind of test for Charlie in her own -mind, watching, with an interest which she believed was wholly ethical -and impersonal, his two years’ struggle to stick to his work and avoid -quarrelling with Sir Dugald. Hence she had come to the rather -one-sided conclusion that she would certainly have no more to do with -him if his efforts failed, while discreetly leaving a blank as to what -was to happen if they were crowned with success. But in any case, if -he could forget all that he had said, and the importance of haste, at -such a time as this, and linger among the Bakhtiaris or the Hajar, it -would be evident that his love was as little to be depended upon as -his persistence in any walk of life had formerly been. -</p> - -<p> -It was not wounded pride which actuated Cecil as she reasoned out this -conclusion with herself, nor was it lack of sympathy with Charlie in -the trials and worries of his uninteresting post at Baghdad. It was -simply that she felt the lack of stability in his character, and the -need there was for correcting it, and that she had a traitor on her -own side to crush, in the shape of the unreasoning attraction towards -Eastern and simpler modes of life which sometimes possessed herself. -With Charlie this feeling was a passion, but in her it came only very -occasionally into collision with her habitual fixedness of purpose and -invariable caution. Still, the very knowledge of the existence of this -tendency in herself made her harder upon Charlie, and more determined -to guide him in the safe middle path of daily duty steadily -performed,—just as we are all prone to correct with greater -willingness the faults we perceive in ourselves which are at variance -with our general character,—and she felt, as she reviewed her conduct -and advice mentally that night, that she could not reproach herself -with what she had done. But she had now something else to -consider—namely, what she was going to do—although the circumstances -seemed so uncertain that she felt herself justified in leaving the -matter open. Suppose Charlie had been unavoidably detained after all, -and that he returned within the next few days, would he speak to her -still, now that his speaking would come too late? She could not doubt -for a moment that he would, but when he did, what would he say? Yes, -and what would she say? These questions ran in her mind all night, in -spite of the wise procrastination she had exercised in determining to -leave the matter undecided. -</p> - -<p> -“I really wish,” she said pettishly to herself, when she saw in the -morning her pale face and tired eyes reflected in the glass—“I really -wish now that he would stay away until to-morrow, so that I could get -back to the Palace and be safe with Azim Bey without having to go -through all this.” And so much worried and perturbed did she feel at -the moment that she believed she meant what she said. -</p> - -<p> -The morning passed quietly. The party from the Residency rode over to -the Mission-house to join in the English service in the room which -served Dr Yehudi as a church, and which was decorated with -palm-branches and quaint devices arranged by the school-children, who -mustered afterwards to receive good advice and sweetmeats from Sir -Dugald, and presents from Lady Haigh and Cecil. Then the horses were -brought up again, and the visitors rode home, refusing to tax the -scanty resources of the Mission party by staying to lunch. At the -Residency the meal was despatched in haste, for all the members of the -British colony in Baghdad were expected to join in the Christmas -dinner that evening, and such a prospect necessitated a good deal of -preparation. Sir Dugald retired to his office to escape from the -bustle, and such of his subordinates as did not follow his example -found themselves impressed into Lady Haigh’s service for the purpose -of moving furniture, hanging up draperies, and otherwise altering the -appearance of the principal rooms. Cecil undertook the decoration of -the dinner-table, much to the indignation of the Indian butler, who -considered that he knew far more about dinner-parties than the Miss -Sahiba, and Lady Haigh superintended everything, driving white-clothed -servants before her in agitated troops. -</p> - -<p> -It was in the midst of all this turmoil that Charlie came home. Lady -Haigh heard him ride into the courtyard, and flew to greet him. -</p> - -<p> -“O, my dear boy!” she cried, as he dismounted and came to meet her, -“why didn’t you come before? You are too late.” -</p> - -<p> -“She has signed the agreement, then?” he asked, quickly. Lady Haigh -nodded, and he went on. “I thought as much. Thanks to that abominable -child, I believe (for you know his mother was one of the Hajar), I -have been detained in their tents for a week. They persisted that they -were at war with the Fazz, and that I could not go on except at the -risk of my life, and they kept me a regular prisoner. Twice I tried to -get away, and each time they brought me back. Yesterday I managed to -get hold of my revolvers, which they had hidden away, and we very -nearly had a big fight. I threatened to shoot them all if they would -not let me go, and at last they consented to disgorge the horses and -my things, and my boy Hanna and I came on at once. We parted company -this morning. He was to come on gently with the luggage, while I rode -hard, and now it is too late after all.” -</p> - -<p> -“My poor dear boy!” cried Lady Haigh, the tears rising in her -sympathetic eyes. “I did my best for you, really, but you see I could -not plead as you would have done, could I? But you shall speak to her -yourself. Leave it to me, and I will make an opportunity for you, only -it must be when there is no one about, that people may not begin to -talk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Cousin Elma. It’s something like a condemned criminal’s -last interview with his friends, to give me one talk with her before -three years’ separation.” -</p> - -<p> -“You were always inclined to be discontented, Charlie,” said Lady -Haigh, reprovingly. “Be thankful for what you can get, and now go and -make yourself respectable.” -</p> - -<p> -He laughed, and betook himself in the direction of his own quarters. -Cecil, at work in the dining-room, heard his steps on the floor of the -verandah, and went on with her task of piling up crystallised fruits -on the dessert-dishes with trembling fingers. Perhaps he would not see -her as he passed. But he did. A casual glance into the room showed him -that she was standing there, and he went no farther. An insane impulse -seized her to run away when he came in, but she stood her ground, -though looking and feeling miserably guilty. Charlie caught both her -hands in his, and stood gazing into her flushed face with a look -before which her eyes fell. Then, almost before Farideh, the slipshod -handmaiden who was supposed to be assisting in the festive -preparations, had time to profit by the little distraction to the -extent of surreptitiously conveying an apricot to her mouth, he -recollected himself, and loosing his hold of Cecil’s hands, asked -eagerly— -</p> - -<p> -“You will let me speak to you in private some time or other?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” faltered Cecil, and he went out, while she, suddenly -discovering Farideh’s part in the little scene which had just been -enacted, taxed her with her guilt, and proceeded to give her a severe -scolding in somewhat imperfect Arabic, though her lips would quiver -sometimes with a smile in the sternest passages. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Haigh was very mysterious that evening. She would not let Cecil -go to dress for dinner until she herself could come too, and then she -accompanied her to her room, where they found the two maids, Um Yusuf -and Marta, gazing in speechless admiration at the contents of a great -box they had just unpacked. With tender care they had laid on the bed -a beautiful evening dress of soft, clinging white stuff, with borders -of golden embroidery in a classic pattern, and now they were gently -handling a white and gold cloak to match, and a fan of white feathers -with a golden mount. -</p> - -<p> -“My Christmas present to you, dear,” said Lady Haigh, kissing Cecil. -“I flatter myself I know what suits you, and I see my London -dressmaker has carried out my directions exactly. Let me see how you -look in it.” -</p> - -<p> -“O, Lady Haigh, you are too good!” gasped Cecil, fingering the -delicate fabric with intense delight. -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Cecil! Do you think I didn’t know that you decided not to -order out a new evening dress from home, because you wanted to send -Fitz the money to get a camera with? I’m glad you like it, dear. If -you are so very pleased, show it by looking nice in the dress, and by -being kind to poor Charlie.” -</p> - -<p> -The last sentence was in a lower tone, but Cecil shook with mirth; the -idea of being bribed with a new dress to be kind to Charlie seemed so -ridiculous. The thought suddenly came to her of the uncontrollable -delight with which her little Irish stepmother would have viewed the -whole scene, more especially the part which concerned the unexpected -rewarding of her kindness to Fitz, and it was with difficulty that she -restrained herself from bursting into a peal of laughter. It did not -take long to array her in the wonderful white-and-gold dress, and even -the sedate Um Yusuf, as she clasped the folds upon the shoulder with -Azim Bey’s brooch as a finish, was moved into uttering words of -admiration. Lady Haigh and Marta were no whit behind in their praise, -and Cecil herself, on looking into the glass, felt that she could -scarcely recognise the gorgeous vision there reflected. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Haigh was also arrayed suitably to the greatness of the occasion, -and she and Cecil now donned their cloaks in preparation for crossing -the court, and rustled down to the great drawing-room, where Sir -Dugald was waiting with a long-suffering expression, his subordinates -hovering in the background and looking depressed. Lady Haigh cast a -last glance around to see that all was right, and then, satisfied that -the great room, with its fretted ceiling and walls inlaid with mirrors -set in beautiful mosaic of many-coloured marbles and gilded arabesque -work, was looking its best, took her place beside Sir Dugald with a -sigh of complacency. The guests soon began to arrive in their most -imposing attire, and the assembly became a miniature court. It was not -so difficult as usual, Cecil thought, to realise that one was in the -city of the Khalifs, now that the splendours of the place were -properly revealed by the aid of many wax-lights, and the rooms, at -other times empty and silent, were gay with bright costumes and -gorgeous Eastern draperies. But when the move into the dining-room was -made, the illusion was spoilt, for all was Anglo-Indian, and the -punkah, useless to-night, and the silent Hindu servants, though they -might at first seem to give an air of oriental stateliness to the -proceedings, were after all as alien to the old Baghdad as to older -Babylon. Cecil felt honestly grieved by the innovations years had -brought, and she had ample time to lament over them, for her neighbour -at the table was a stout and bald-headed elderly merchant, who devoted -himself to curry and other red-hot compounds with a singleness of -purpose which left him no opportunity for conversation. Opposite to -her Charlie was doing the agreeable to the wife of the American -Consul, a faded but still vivacious lady, who was talking shrilly of -Boston. The few Americans in Baghdad had united with their English -kinsfolk to-night in celebrating the old home festival, and the -English would fraternise with them in like manner when Thanksgiving -Day came round. -</p> - -<p> -The meal was a long one, for all the usual Christmas fare was <i>de -rigueur</i>, as were the orthodox Christmas customs, while there were a -number of toasts to be drunk at the close; but it was over at last, -and the gentlemen were not long in following the ladies into the -drawing-room. A number of other people who had only been invited to -the reception after the dinner-party now came dropping in, and Cecil -found herself seized upon by her friend Mrs Hagopidan, the lady in -whose defence she had broken a lance with Charlie not long after her -arrival in Baghdad. Myrta Hagopidan was a lively little person, an -Armenian by race, a native of British India by birth, and an -Englishwoman by aspiration. As schoolgirls she and Cecil had adored -the same governess, the lady who had been Cecil’s form-mistress at the -South Central having gone to India to take charge of the Poonah High -School, as has been already mentioned, and this bond of union drew -them very close together, although Mrs Hagopidan was pleased to affect -the ultra-smart in dress and conversation, and had a weakness for -talking about her “frocks,” for which, by the way, Worth was sometimes -responsible. She came rustling up now in a magnificent and utterly -indescribable costume of various shimmering hues, and demanded that -Cecil should take her up to the roof to see the view. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve never seen the city by moonlight from here,” she said, “and -Captain Rossiter has been telling me that it’s quite too awfully -sweet. Take me up to the best place, for I daren’t go roaming about -Sir Dugald’s house alone without his leave, and I’m much too -frightened to ask for it. Put on a shawl or coat or something, for -it’s quite chilly.” -</p> - -<p> -And linking her arm in Cecil’s, Mrs Hagopidan drew her into the -cloakroom, whence she extracted a wonderful little wrap of her own, -all iridescent brocade and ostrich feathers, and then waited while -Cecil hunted for her white-and-gold cloak. Her little dark face looked -so mischievous and arch and winning, framed in the folds of her hood, -that Cecil kissed her there and then, at which Mrs Hagopidan laughed -until all her ostrich-feathers nodded wildly. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t!” she cried, pushing Cecil away. “I don’t want to make any one -jealous; I’m simply an amiable and kind-hearted friend. There! that’s -your cloak, isn’t it? Put it on and come along.” -</p> - -<p> -They hurried up the steps together, Mrs Hagopidan continuing to talk -incessantly, so that Cecil was nearly exhausted before they had -reached the top, and was obliged to stop to laugh. -</p> - -<p> -“Lazy thing!” cried her companion. “You are stopping too soon. Only -two or three steps more, and I’m dying to see what is to be seen. Come -on. Why, there’s some one here!” -</p> - -<p> -A dark figure confronted them as they reached the top of the stairs, -and Cecil almost screamed, but she saw immediately who it was. -</p> - -<p> -“Myrta, you wretch!” she cried, “you have brought me here on false -pretences.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t excite yourself, my dear,” said Mrs Hagopidan, swiftly -descending the stairs to the landing, and sitting down on the lowest -step. “I said I was a kind and amiable friend, and I’m going to be. No -one shall interrupt you, I promise, and if any one tries to pass, it -will be over my body. Now, Dr Egerton, use your opportunity. Go over -to the other side of the roof, and I shan’t hear. You may count on me -to keep a good look-out.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t like being entrapped, Dr Egerton,” said Cecil. “I think I -will ask you to take me back to Lady Haigh.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think you will,” said Charlie, quickly, “when you remember -how long I have been waiting for this talk with you, and how hard it -has been for me to get back here even now. I can trust you not to keep -me longer in suspense. Whatever my fate is, at least you will let me -know it at once.” -</p> - -<p> -This was reasonable enough, and Cecil could not withstand the appeal -to her sense of fairness. She walked across to the other side of the -roof, and sat down upon the wide parapet, looking at the shadowy -garden beneath, and at the river beyond, its broad surface flecked -with many wavering lights. Behind was the courtyard, partially -illuminated by the beams from the lighted windows of the drawing-room, -and farther still the town, with its winding, badly-lighted streets, -and its ghostly minarets and palm-trees. The strains of music floated -up to her, mingled with the more distant sounds of the city, but no -human being was visible anywhere, and it seemed as if the world held -only herself and Charlie. He was standing beside her, apparently -finding some difficulty in framing what he wanted to say. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve longed to speak to you for years,” he burst out at last, “and -now that I have the opportunity I feel ashamed to use it, because I -know my speaking to you at all must seem to you such arrant cheek. I -have thought about it pretty often in the last week, and upon my word! -I can’t think of any conceivable earthly reason why you should marry -me, except that I love you.” -</p> - -<p> -He stopped, and then went on somewhat more freely. -</p> - -<p> -“Cousin Elma has told you how I wanted to speak to you two years ago, -and why I didn’t. That’s the reason, Cecil. It was because I loved -you, and I didn’t want to get you into trouble, and I have learned to -love you more and more since. I do love you, dear, and I have tried to -be a better man for your sake. I can’t talk much about that sort of -thing, you know, but I do see things more in the way you do than when -we first met. But I can’t say it as I should like,” he broke off -despairingly. “Whatever I say seems only to show me more and more how -utterly presumptuous I am. I know I could never hope that you could -care for me as I care for you, because I am such a wretched failure of -a fellow, but if you could love me just a little—if you could take me -on—well, just as a sort of pupil, you know—but I don’t mean that at -all. Will you marry me, Cecil?” -</p> - -<p> -“And if I say no?” asked Cecil, looking away over the river. -</p> - -<p> -“Now you are trying me, to see what I shall say,” he said. “You know, -if I said what I feel, it would be that I should throw up this place -at once and go off into the desert with the Arabs; and I know that -what you would like me to say would be that I should go on here -working steadily, as if nothing had happened. Well, dear, I will try, -but it will be awfully hard.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was touched to the heart. “Oh, Charlie, my poor boy!” she cried, -impulsively, and put her hands into his. He took them doubtfully, not -daring to accept the happy omen the action suggested. -</p> - -<p> -“Cecil, is it really—do you mean yes?” he asked, with bated breath. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I do,” said Cecil, hurriedly. “I have been a horrid, -calculating, conceited wretch. I’ve looked down on you, and laughed at -you, and never thought how much better you were than I was all the -time. I wish I was more worthy of you, Charlie.” -</p> - -<p> -“You? of me?” he asked. “Cecil, dear, don’t laugh at me now. You -really mean that you can love me? I don’t want you to marry me out of -pity, or anything that would make you unhappy. I can stand anything -rather than that.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I do mean yes,” murmured Cecil, brokenly. -</p> - -<p> -“But you are crying,” he said, with a man’s usual tact in such -matters. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not,” said Cecil, indignantly. “Well, I suppose I’m homesick. No, -it’s not that. It’s because I have been wanting you so much all this -time, and you have come back at last.” -</p> - -<p> -“Please God, you shall never regret my coming back, dear,” he said, -gently, and drew her head down on his shoulder, where she cried -bitterly, to her own great astonishment and his alarm. It was not at -first that she could explain to him the mental conflict and strain of -the past few months, but she was able to assure him that her tears did -not spring from regret for the promise she had just given, and they -sat there on the parapet talking for a long time. Engrossed in each -other, they did not notice a long line of torch-bearers and horsemen -approaching the Residency from the direction of the Palace, and they -were struck with surprise when Mrs Hagopidan appeared suddenly at the -top of the steps, and looking studiously the wrong way, cried in a -thrilling whisper— -</p> - -<p> -“Dr Egerton, you must go down at once. Azim Bey is at the door, and -Sir Dugald was asking for you. If you don’t put in an appearance, -there’ll be trouble. Do go at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“That abominable child!” cried Charlie, and obeyed. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch16"> -CHAPTER XVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A MURDEROUS INTENT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Well</span>, dear?” cried Mrs Hagopidan, rushing to Cecil’s side, as -Charlie precipitated himself down the stairs, hurried across the -courtyard, and arrived at the gate just in time to take his place -behind Sir Dugald as the great doors were thrown open for Azim Bey’s -entrance, “is it all settled? You are glad now that I brought you here -on false pretences? Do tell me, have you enjoyed the hour or so which -you have spent in admiring the view?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Myrta; we haven’t been there so long as that,” said Cecil, -half-vexed, but for all answer Mrs Hagopidan drew out a tiny gold -watch and exhibited its face. -</p> - -<p> -“It is undeniably an hour and a quarter since we left the -drawing-room,” she said, when Cecil, with an embarrassed laugh, had -recognised the truth of her statement. “Now do tell me, dear, have you -been finding out your fortune from the stars? I can tell you -something. Your fate is connected with that of a dark man, and your -happiness is threatened by a dark child, do you see? There’s a -separation somewhere, I am convinced, but of course a happy ending. -Don’t you think I tell fortunes beautifully?” -</p> - -<p> -“Myrta,” said Cecil, solemnly, “don’t be silly. You know you can’t -find out things from the stars.” -</p> - -<p> -“How do you know? At least you will allow that I have had plenty of -time this evening for studying them, haven’t I?” -</p> - -<p> -In the meantime Azim Bey had been received at the great gate of the -Residency, and conducted with all due solemnity to a chair placed for -him in the large drawing-room. When this had been accomplished, a -sense of constraint seemed to fall upon the party assembled, together -with a feeling of doubt as to what was to be done next. Music and -conversation had both been interrupted by the unexpected arrival, and -the intruder himself seemed as much at a loss as any one. He -scrutinised attentively the faces of those present, bestowed a -searching gaze on Charlie, and finally looked disappointed and a -little inclined to yawn. It was not until Lady Haigh ventured on a -civil inquiry as to the reason of this flattering and unlooked-for -visit that he brightened up. -</p> - -<p> -“I want mademoiselle,” he answered, becoming animated at once. “Where -is she? I came to fetch her. What have you done with her?” and he -looked at Charlie again, in a puzzled and suspicious way. -</p> - -<p> -Happily it was just at this moment that Cecil and Mrs Hagopidan -returned to the room, the latter with her arm linked in Cecil’s, and -at the sight, Azim Bey’s face beamed. He rose from his seat and -walked, for his innate dignity forbade his running, to meet them. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, “I am so lonely! There have never been -two such long days since Baghdad was built. I am desolate without you. -I have teased Ayesha, I have had two of the servants beaten, I have -been very bad. Now come back.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not yet, Bey,” said Cecil, somewhat vexed, and yet touched by the -eagerness of the little fellow’s tone; “I can’t break up Lady Haigh’s -party in the middle of the evening. But you would like to stay, -wouldn’t you, and see how we keep Christmas in England? You have often -asked me about it, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if Lady Haigh doesn’t mind, we will play some of the old -Christmas games,” put in Charlie, who was very much vexed, and not at -all touched, but wanted to make the best of the matter. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>You</i> may play at Christmas games, M. le docteur, if you like,” -responded Azim Bey, fixing a stony gaze on Charlie, “but mademoiselle -shall sit by me and explain them all. She shall not play your -forfeits, your kissing under the mistletoe, with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I never suggested that she should—in public, at any rate,” returned -Charlie, almost overcome by the idea of his kissing Cecil under the -mistletoe for Azim Bey’s edification. “I suppose you think that such a -proceeding would need a good deal of explanation, Bey?” -</p> - -<p> -“Madame,” said Azim Bey to Lady Haigh, turning in disgust from -Charlie’s flippancy, “may I ask that you will have the kindness to let -a chair be brought for mademoiselle, that she may sit beside me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Bey! Lady Haigh is standing. I cannot sit down until she does,” said -Cecil, and her pupil groaned, and requested that a chair might be -placed for Lady Haigh on the other side of him. Then, with Charlie as -master of the revels, the games began. Urged by an agonised whisper -from their leader, “For goodness’ sake, you fellows, let us send this -child home in a good temper,” the other young men threw themselves -nobly into the fray, and did their best to induct the bewildered Greek -and Armenian guests into the mysteries of blindman’s-buff and general -post. Meanwhile, Azim Bey sat very upright on his chair, demanding -from Cecil copious explanations of all that he witnessed, and -criticising the players liberally. Mrs Hagopidan he was at first -inclined to admire, but when he found that she was Cecil’s friend he -became jealous, and refused to have anything to say to her, at which -the lively little lady laughed as an excellent joke. Except for this, -however, Azim Bey seemed to enjoy the evening, if no one else did, for -it accorded exactly with his tastes and his ideas of pleasure to sit -still and look on while others supplied amusement for him. At length -the games came to a close, and Lady Haigh carried off Cecil to don her -Palace dress once more. When she came out of her room, with the great -white sheet over her arm, ready to put on, Charlie was on the verandah -waiting for her, and Lady Haigh discreetly returned into the room for -something she had forgotten. -</p> - -<p> -“I couldn’t let you go without one more word,” he said. “You must let -me give you this, dear.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a curiously wrought ring, set with pearls and rubies in a -quaint design, which produced the effect of two serpents twining round -one another, and Charlie explained that he had bought it in Basra two -years before. He did not mention that he had intended to offer it to -her then, had not Lady Haigh’s cruel fiat intervened, but Cecil -understood what he did not say, and let him put it on her finger. But -after a moment she started and took it off. -</p> - -<p> -“I mustn’t wear it yet, Charlie. You know that Azim Bey hasn’t heard -anything about our engagement, and I shall have to break it to him -carefully. I shouldn’t like him to find it out for himself, for it -would hurt his feelings so dreadfully to think I hadn’t told him, and -he would notice the ring at once and guess what it meant. I must -choose a favourable time for telling him, and try to bring him round -to take it pleasantly. I should be afraid he will be rather hard to -persuade; he is so fond of me, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“So am I,” said Charlie, “and I don’t see what that wretched child has -to do with it. If only I could have got back yesterday, and saved you -from three more years of slavery!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be too sure you could have done it,” said Cecil. “A duty is a -duty, you know, and I have a duty to Azim Bey.” -</p> - -<p> -“And so you have to me. But I’m not going to be selfish, Cecil. You -have made me happier to-night than I could ever have hoped or deserved -to be, and if I couldn’t wait ten years for you, if it was necessary, -I should be a fool and a brute. Besides, after going through the last -two years I know how to be thankful for what I have got. You don’t -know how bad I felt when any of the other fellows spoke to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you?” said Cecil. “Do you know, I should have thought you had -taken good care that they shouldn’t have the chance.” -</p> - -<p> -“What! have I been such a dog in the manger as all that?” cried -Charlie, aghast. “Did I worry you, Cecil? But still you let me do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You see, I took an interest in you,” said Cecil, calmly. “Lady Haigh -commended you to my care in a sort of way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Haigh is reluctantly compelled to ask you what time of night you -imagine it to be, good people,” said a voice from within the room, and -the two on the verandah started guiltily. -</p> - -<p> -“She’s just ready, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, taking the sheet from -Cecil’s arm, and offering to help her put it on. But he was not an -expert lady’s-maid, and the process took a considerable time—still, -even if his face did approach hers more nearly than was absolutely -necessary, they were standing in deep shadow, and there was nobody to -see. -</p> - -<p> -And Cecil was duly mounted on her donkey, and escorted to the gate by -Sir Dugald, and rode back to the Palace with Azim Bey at her side, -feeling that she did not dare to look at him lest her eyes should tell -their own happy story. For once she felt thankful for the protection -of the veil, and drew it closely over her flushed face, wondering that -the boy’s glances did not penetrate even this defence. -</p> - -<p> -At the Residency, meanwhile, Charlie was pouring out his tale to Lady -Haigh, assuring her incoherently that he was at once the happiest and -the least deserving man in the whole world, his cousin alternately -corroborating and contradicting him. When she had heard all he had to -tell, Lady Haigh went away to the office where Sir Dugald was sitting -alone, immersed once more in his daily work after the frivolity of the -evening, and reading a despatch which had just arrived by special -courier. He looked up with puckered brow as his wife came softly in. -</p> - -<p> -“I am overwhelmed with business, Elma,” he said, as a gentle hint to -her to be brief. -</p> - -<p> -“I know, dear; I won’t keep you,” she replied, ruthlessly demolishing -the barricade of reports and despatch-boxes with which he had -fortified himself, and settling herself where she could see his face, -“though I’m sure you had better leave it now and get a good night’s -rest. You would be much fresher in the morning. But that wasn’t what I -came to tell you. Cecil and Charlie are engaged.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pair of fools!” said Sir Dugald, with his eyes on the despatch. -</p> - -<p> -“Dugald!” cried Lady Haigh, with deep reproach in her tones. “I think -they are made for one another.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think they are made to create trouble for other people,” said Sir -Dugald. “Now, Elma, I have always regarded you as the most sensible -woman of my acquaintance. Look at the matter in a sensible light, and -don’t talk cant. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t think Miss -Anstruther, with her position and capabilities, a fool for throwing -herself away on a man like the doctor?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is a dear good fellow,” said Lady Haigh, warmly. -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt, but that’s all you can say for him. And look at him. He has -just settled down well here, and then he goes and unsettles himself by -this engagement, which is pretty sure to get him into trouble at the -Palace. Of course it need not, but with his genius for getting into -hot water you may be sure it will.” -</p> - -<p> -“But would you have had them wait three years more?” asked Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not. It is preposterous that he should think of her at all. -I should have some respect for Miss Anstruther’s judgment if she had -chosen Rossiter. He is a fine fellow, if you like, with some chances -of success, and she could have had him for the trouble of holding up a -finger.” -</p> - -<p> -“But would you have had her hold up a finger to Captain Rossiter when -she was in love with Charlie?” inquired Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Elma, I don’t think you quite see my point,” said Sir Dugald, -with exceeding mildness. “I consider that it shows a lack of good -sense in Miss Anstruther to have fallen in love, as you phrase it, -with your cousin at all. To see a girl throwing away her chances is a -thing I detest. And now I really must prepare the draft of the answer -to this despatch.” This time Lady Haigh accepted her dismissal, and -retired, a little saddened, but by no means convinced. -</p> - -<p> -All unconscious of the unpalatable criticism her engagement had -excited, Cecil rose the next morning prepared to take the first -favourable opportunity of breaking the news to her pupil; but she was -somewhat startled when he himself, in the midst of his lessons, paved -the way for the disclosure. -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle,” he said, suddenly, looking up from the essay he was -writing on the character of Peter the Great, “what makes you so -happy?” -</p> - -<p> -“Am I any happier than usual, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a start and a -blush. Her pupil studied her face curiously and deliberately. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, mademoiselle, I am sure of it. When we were out in the garden an -hour ago, you walked as though you wished to dance, and you were all -the time singing tunes in a whisper, and just now you sat like this, -and looked at the wall and smiled,” and Azim Bey supported his chin -upon one hand, and pursed up his solemn little face into a ludicrous -imitation of Cecil’s far-away gaze and the smile that had accompanied -it. -</p> - -<p> -“Dear me, Bey, how closely you watch me!” said Cecil, uncomfortably, -feeling that she was not carrying out her determination of the night -before at all in the proper way. “I am afraid you have not been -working very hard. How far have you got with Peter?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have finished all but his influence upon the Greek Church, -mademoiselle. You looked so happy that I felt I must stop to ask you -about it. But I will finish Peter, and then we can have some more -talk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you think I ought to be happy to be back here after being away -for two whole days?” asked Cecil, lightly, trying to turn aside the -subject with a laugh; but Azim Bey bent upon her a severe gaze from -under his black brows, and answered solemnly— -</p> - -<p> -“No, mademoiselle; for I watched your face when you went away, and it -was not sad. I am convinced that your happiness has nothing to do with -me. Now I will finish my essay.” -</p> - -<p> -And having succeeded in making his governess uncomfortable, he applied -himself once more to his writing, feeling, no doubt, a certain -satisfaction in seeing that she was beginning to look worried and -anxious instead of happy. She knew him well in these impracticable -moods, when he would exhibit an impish power of detecting the things -which he was not meant to see, and delighted in sweeping away -conventional disguises, and she feared that he suspected what had -taken place, and meant to make her task of telling him about it as -difficult as he could. He finished his essay in due time, fastened the -pages neatly together, and presented the roll to her with a polite -bow, then tidied and closed his desk, all in grim silence, while Cecil -waited expectantly for what he would say next. For the moment he -seemed to have forgotten the matter, however, for he called to the -servants to spread a carpet for him beside the brazier, and to bring -some cushions for mademoiselle, and also to replenish the glowing -charcoal, for it was a cold day for Baghdad. When his orders had been -carried out, he turned to Cecil, and invited her to come down from her -desk, and to sit by the brazier a little and warm herself. Pupil and -governess generally took a short rest of this kind in the middle of -the morning, and Cecil was wont to regard it as a very pleasant time, -when bits from the latest magazines and papers which had reached her -might be read and discussed, and Azim Bey’s critical faculty guided in -the right direction. -</p> - -<p> -“Captain Rossiter lent me a new magazine yesterday, which had just -been sent him from home,” she said, willing to delay her important -communication until her pupil was in a more accommodating mood, “and -I think you would like to see it, Bey. I will send Um Yusuf for it, if -you like.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, mademoiselle, but I think I had rather talk to-day instead -of reading,” replied Azim Bey; and as Cecil took her seat upon the -cushions, he sat down upon his carpet on the other side of the brazier -and looked at her. He had proposed to talk, but the conversation did -not seem to be forthcoming; he only sat still, with his great black -eyes fixed upon his governess. Cecil grew nervous, and perceived that -she had not succeeded in diverting his mind from the former subject -after all. It was foolish to feel perturbed merely on account of this, -however, and she resolved to seize the opportunity and say what she -had intended. -</p> - -<p> -“You asked me just now why I seemed so happy, Bey, and I will tell -you. I am very happy, though I did not know I was showing it so -plainly. You have read in books about people’s being engaged?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, mademoiselle,” responded her pupil. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, how would you like it if I told you that I was engaged?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should be deeply interested, mademoiselle,” he replied, with cold -politeness. Cecil sighed. He was evidently determined not to be -sympathetic. She must try and begin on another tack. -</p> - -<p> -“You like me to be happy, don’t you, Bey? Supposing that there was a -very good, nice man whom I liked very much, and who—well, who thought -he liked me very much, and that he wanted me to be engaged to him, and -there was no reason why we should not be engaged, what then?” -</p> - -<p> -“And as to yourself, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, supposing of course that I was willing,” said Cecil, hastily; “I -said that. It wouldn’t make any difference to you, you know. I should -stay with you for the three years more, exactly as I promised, and -only go when you didn’t want me any longer. Well, Bey, supposing that -all this were to happen, there would be no reason why you should mind, -would there? I don’t see how it would affect you at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should have him killed,” observed Azim Bey, calmly. -</p> - -<p> -“Have whom killed?” demanded Cecil, somewhat startled. -</p> - -<p> -“That man, mademoiselle,—that wicked, wretched man! I would give all -I had to get him killed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Bey! We are not in the ‘Arabian Nights’ now.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, mademoiselle, but we are in Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“I shouldn’t have thought you were so silly, Bey. Why should he be -killed? He would have done you no harm.” -</p> - -<p> -“He would, indeed, mademoiselle. You are my own mademoiselle, and you -shall not be thinking of this—this <i>imaginary</i> person. If he comes, I -will have him killed.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you cared a little for me, Bey, now that we have been two -years together,” said Cecil, with deep reproach. “And yet you talk -like this of having an innocent person whom I loved killed, just -because I loved him and he loved me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that is the very reason, mademoiselle. You would marry him and go -away to your England again, and I want you to stay here in Baghdad, -and be always ready when I want to ask you things. When I am married, -I shall say to Safieh Khanum, ‘If you wish to please me, ask Mdlle. -Antaza’s advice about everything, and you are sure to be right.’ So -you see, mademoiselle, I shall always want you, and you must not go -away. Why, I heard Masûd telling you how rude I was to him yesterday, -and how I teased Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa just because you were away.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I can’t stay with you always,” said Cecil, vexed, and yet -half-laughing at the tone of pride in which he spoke, “so we must hope -you will improve before I leave you. If I never married at all, I -should go home when my five years here were over. When you are -married, Safieh Khanum will know very well how to manage things -without my advice. Don’t you see that it wouldn’t do at all for me to -be interfering in her household affairs? Besides, Bey, think how -selfish you are. You would like me to lose the very thing that is -making me so happy just now, because you would have to do without me.” -</p> - -<p> -“If any one comes, and wishes to be engaged to you, mademoiselle, I -shall have him killed,” repeated Azim Bey, doggedly. Cecil lost her -temper. -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, Bey; if you are going to behave so foolishly, and talk so -childishly of what you know nothing about, I am not going to tell you -anything more. You may find things out for yourself, if you like.” -</p> - -<p> -And Cecil walked away to her own room, and returned with Charlie’s -ring shining on her finger, a perpetual defiance and reminder to Azim -Bey. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch17"> -CHAPTER XVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AN IDYLL, AND ITS ENDING.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">After</span> all, the tender care Cecil had shown for her pupil’s feelings, -almost disregarding Charlie’s in comparison with them, was not only -without result, but quite unnecessary. Azim Bey had read in her face -as she said good-night what had happened, and neither silence nor -denials on her part would have had the slightest effect in shaking his -belief in his discovery. Consequently her vain attempts to mollify him -were regarded with contempt as signs of conscious guilt, and the -rupture which concluded them only increased his wrath against Charlie, -over whom he had now been forced to quarrel with mademoiselle. He was -obliged to do his lessons as usual, but at other times he sat apart -and meditated vengeance. -</p> - -<p> -His mind was full of schemes—indeed the only drawback was their -number and variety. He intended fully to get rid of Charlie, and to -punish Cecil for engaging herself to him; but as soon as he had -settled upon a means of doing this, a new and splendid idea was sure -to come into his head, and he would devote himself to working it out -until it in its turn was supplanted by a better. There was another -difficulty common to all these plans. It seemed absolutely impossible -to carry them out, situated as he was, under Cecil’s charge and -Masûd’s guardianship. Even when he had patched up a hollow peace with -Cecil, cemented by a mutual understanding that the subject of her -engagement was not to be mentioned between them, this difficulty -confronted him still, and it was therefore with a joy born of hope and -confidence that he found M. Karalampi one day in the Pasha’s anteroom. -Here was the man who could do what he wanted, and M. Karalampi was -astonished to find himself seized upon and dragged into a corner, and -adjured in excited whispers to get rid of that wretch, that criminal -of an English doctor who had dared to engage himself to Mdlle. Antaza. -</p> - -<p> -M. Karalampi’s first feeling, which he was careful to conceal, was one -of helpless bewilderment, but of this Azim Bey had no idea. To him, -the Greek, backed up by all the help he could easily command, was a -<i>deus ex machinâ</i> who could accomplish his purpose in the twinkling -of an eye. M. Karalampi knew better the difficulties of the situation. -Murder was out of the question, and so was kidnapping. Either, or an -attempt at either, would set the Balio Bey and all the English on the -alert, and lead to the discovery of the instigator of the deed, and M. -Karalampi was not at all inclined to compromise his position, either -with the Pasha or with the foreign consuls, for the sake of Azim Bey. -No; whatever was to be done must be done by careful diplomacy and -working underground, and for this time would be necessary. But to say -so to Azim Bey would mean that the boy would fly off at a tangent to -some other person who might be inclined to help him, and this M. -Karalampi could not allow. Almost simultaneously two plans formed -themselves in his brain, one for getting rid of Charlie, the other for -gaining time from Azim Bey, and he put the second into execution at -once. Lowering his voice mysteriously, and entreating pardon for -casting a doubt on the correctness of the Bey Effendi’s information, -he ventured to inquire whether he were absolutely certain that it was -Dr Egerton to whom mademoiselle was engaged? The doctor and she had -not seen one another for a long time before Christmas, whereas Captain -Rossiter was at the Residency all the time. It was known that the -Balio Bey thought very highly of him, and it was whispered that he -himself thought very highly of mademoiselle: indeed M. Karalampi had -heard it said that he was going to marry her. Was Azim Bey sure that -it was not Captain Rossiter to whom she was engaged? Of course M. -Karalampi could not guarantee the authenticity of his own information, -but it would certainly be very annoying to get rid of the wrong man -and find the evil untouched. -</p> - -<p> -M. Karalampi knew very well the falsity of the suggestion he offered, -but it served his present purpose admirably. Azim Bey was struck dumb. -He beat his brains to try and find out why he had fixed upon Charlie -as the happy man, for he had certainly never been told that he was; -but he could find nothing but that early incursion into the harem, and -the little scene he had witnessed at the Residency on the day of the -riot, to justify his suspicions. Meanwhile, as M. Karalampi pointed -out respectfully, these were only proofs that Dr Egerton was in love -with mademoiselle, which no one had ever doubted, while it was -undeniable that Captain Rossiter had rushed to her rescue with the -utmost eagerness when he heard she was in danger. Azim Bey felt -nonplussed. He could only promise that he would do his best to -discover the truth—he must be able to do so without much -difficulty—and adjure his fellow-conspirator to be in readiness to -act the moment he let him know who was to be assailed. -</p> - -<p> -They parted, and Azim Bey set himself to his task; but it was more -difficult than he had imagined it would be. Cecil’s lips were sealed, -at any rate to him, on the subject of her engagement. If he attempted -to approach it, she froze instantly, and he could not obtain from her -the slightest clue to the mystery, while all his efforts to pump Um -Yusuf found her as impenetrable as the grave. It so happened that for -a considerable time he met no one who had sufficient interest in or -knowledge of the matter to enlighten him. He felt convinced that he -could have got the truth out of either Charlie or Captain Rossiter by -means of a few questions, but neither of them came in his way, and -though he saw Sir Dugald once or twice, the Balio Bey was not the kind -of person to approach on such a quest. Much time was consumed in these -delays, and winter had passed, and spring was over all the plains, -before the boy’s curiosity could be gratified. -</p> - -<p> -It was just at the time when the fruit-trees were in bloom, and the -watered gardens around Baghdad miracles of loveliness, that it entered -Lady Haigh’s head to give a picnic. Some miles down the Tigris were -the ruins of an ancient fort, situated on a bold bluff overhanging the -stream, and surrounded by fruit-gardens, in one of which was a flimsy -summer-palace, built of wood, and almost in decay. The spot was noted -for its fruit-trees, which were supposed to flourish on the site of an -ancient battle-field, and Sir Dugald was accustomed to rent the place -every spring and summer as a refuge from the heat and miasma of -Baghdad. There was plenty of shooting to be had on the neighbouring -plains, and good fishing for any one that cared for it, so that a week -or two at the summer-villa was a coveted treat to the staff at the -Consulate. It was not yet time for the great heat which makes the city -almost unbearable, but the fruit-blossom was particularly lovely this -year, and Lady Haigh was fired with the desire to display -Takht-Iskandar in all its beauty. She could not have all her friends -out to stay with her, especially since the habitable part of the house -was now exceedingly limited in extent, but she could at any rate give -them a sight of the place, and therefore she sent out invitations for -a picnic. -</p> - -<p> -Of course Cecil and Azim Bey were invited. The latter, who was deputed -by his father to represent him on the occasion, accepted the charge -with huge delight, and kept his attendants hard at work for days -beforehand in bringing all his equipments to the highest pitch of -perfection. He felt that he was about to perform a public function, -and his youthful heart beat high with pride. Cecil’s heart beat high -also, but not with pride. She would see Charlie—nay, she would -certainly, if Lady Haigh could compass it, get one of those long talks -with him which were now a distinguishing delight of Sunday evenings at -the Residency. In this hope she put on, under her great white sheet, -the newest and prettiest dress she had, one which had just been sent -out to her from England, and succeeded in mounting her donkey safely -in the unwonted garb. The party from the Residency and most of their -guests went down the river to Takht-Iskandar in a steam-launch, but -the Pasha preferred the land journey for his son, and thus Cecil and -Azim Bey jogged along soberly on donkey-back, followed by a motley -group of servants, and preceded by a running groom. -</p> - -<p> -The way was very pleasant, lying as it did across the wide plains of -Mesopotamia, now gay with their brief verdure and studded with flowers -of every hue. The start was made as soon as it was light, so that it -was still quite early in the day when the frowning ruins which the -Arabs called Alexander’s Throne came into view. Sir Dugald advanced to -the gate of the garden to welcome his guests, and Lady Haigh met them -at the edge of the great terrace of masonry, with its tanks and -fountains, which supplied a site for the picnic in place of the -non-existent grass-plot. Here tents had been pitched and carpets -spread in the shade of the trees, and everything seemed to promise -ease and rest. Azim Bey gave his arm to his hostess to conduct her to -her seat, an honour which reflected much glory, but some -inconvenience, on Lady Haigh, who was much taller than her youthful -cavalier. Sir Dugald followed with Cecil, her pupil looking round -sharply to make sure that she had not wandered away in more congenial -society. Arrived at the encampment under the trees, the party reclined -on gorgeous rugs and listened to the voices and instruments of a band -of native musicians, refreshing themselves with sherbet the while. -This style of entertainment was quite to the taste of the orientals -among the guests, and the Europeans had learnt by long experience to -tolerate it with apparent resignation, so that the time passed in -great contentment. As for Cecil, she leaned back on her cushions and -enjoyed the colour contrasts afforded by the gay hues of the carpets -relieved against the yellow of the stonework and the dark shade of the -trees, and by the twisting and crossing of the blossomy boughs against -the blue of the sky, and wondered where Charlie could be. -</p> - -<p> -After some time the calm of the party was broken by the arrival of a -juggler, a most marvellous Hindoo, such a one as Azim Bey had often -read of but had never seen, and the luxurious guests raised themselves -and moved a little closer, so as to be able to see his tricks more -easily. This left Cecil rather on the outskirts of the group, and -before she could rise to go nearer a voice said in her ear— -</p> - -<p> -“Come and see the ruins.” -</p> - -<p> -With one glance at Azim Bey, deeply absorbed in the juggler’s tricks, -under Lady Haigh’s guardianship, Cecil was up in a moment, scarcely -needing the help of Charlie’s hand, and he hurried her round the -nearest tent and into the wood. There were no footpaths, but they -hastened, laughing guiltily, like two children playing truant, along -the banks of earth left between the innumerable little canals by which -each row of trees was irrigated, and finally came out on a grassy -knoll set with pomegranate-trees, which were now gay with scarlet -blossoms. -</p> - -<p> -“Now we’re safe,” said Charlie. “We can take it easy. Do you see where -you are? There are the ruins just in front.” -</p> - -<p> -No one, as it happened, had observed Charlie’s sudden appearance and -their flight. Even Lady Haigh, with heroic self-restraint, kept her -eyes fixed on the juggler, lest she should by looking round attract -attention to the pair, and the performance went on. When it was over, -Lady Haigh invited Azim Bey to come and see a small plantation of -English fruit-trees, belonging to several choice varieties, which Sir -Dugald had lately imported. He complied with her request, but in the -one glance around which he took before accompanying her, he had -perceived and realised the fact that his governess had disappeared. -His face showed, however, no trace of his having made this discovery. -He escorted Lady Haigh from place to place, asked intelligent -questions about the foreign trees, promised to recommend his father to -try planting some, and kept his eyes open all the time for some trace -of the truant. His manner was so natural, he seemed so deeply -interested, that Lady Haigh was completely deceived; nay, more, the -very thought of the need there was for watchfulness slipped from her -mind, and when they returned to the rest of the guests, she entered -into conversation with Denarien Bey, who was among them. Azim Bey saw -and seized his opportunity. He removed his hand softly from Lady -Haigh’s arm, and sheltered by her capacious person from the -observation of Sir Dugald and Captain Rossiter, edged his way out just -as Cecil and Charlie had done, until, when fairly hidden by the tent, -he ran off at full speed in the direction of the clue he had -discovered as he returned with his hostess from the plantation. It was -a little strip of flimsy white stuff, which he had noticed clinging to -the rough bark of a gnarled old apple-tree—only that, but he knew it -to be a piece of the muslin veil Cecil was wearing, and it showed that -she must have passed that way. Azim Bey followed the path she and -Charlie had taken through the wood, and came out as they had done on -the knoll where the pomegranate-trees grew; but here he was at a loss, -for those whom he sought were not visible, and Cecil had not been so -considerate as to leave another clue for his guidance. He spent some -time fruitlessly in following paths that led nowhere, and in losing -himself among the trees and the little canals, but at last he came -upon an ascending track leading through a dense thicket of fruit-trees -and shrubs. As he went on he heard the sound of voices, and he crept -cautiously nearer, keeping in the shadow of the bushes, until he was -able to see what filled him with rage and longings for vengeance, and -made him swear the blackest oaths he could think of in any language. -</p> - -<p> -And yet the picture before him was not an unpleasing one. In the heart -of the thicket was a space clear of bushes, but occupied by the ruins -of one of the ancient towers of the fortress, partly overgrown with -grass. On a mass of fallen masonry sat Cecil in her blue dress, her -veil thrown back. Above her were twisted boughs of apple and apricot, -covered with bloom, and the thin smooth rods of the almond-tree, with -pink and blush-coloured blossoms interspersed with tiny fresh green -leaves. The branches bent and swayed in the light breeze, and swept -her hair softly, and every wind scattered over her a shower of pink -and white petals. But she was not studying the beauties of nature now. -Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, her eyelids drooping, and -beside her was Charlie Egerton, holding both her hands in his, his -eyes passionately devouring her face. They were not talking. It was a -moment of supreme content, such as they had not enjoyed for months, -and they were too happy to speak. The unseen spectator perceived it -all, and gnashed his teeth with rage. -</p> - -<p> -Poor little Azim Bey! He knelt there, taking in every detail of the -scene before him, and cursing one, at least, of the actors in it very -heartily. If a loaded pistol had been put into his hand Charlie might -have fared ill, but even Azim Bey did not feel impelled to test his -dagger upon him before Cecil’s eyes. Therefore he only remained where -he was, peering through the bushes, and listening eagerly when some -chance sound disturbed the pair and they began to talk. Their talk -filled him with amazement. It was by no means particularly deep, and -it was undeniably disjointed; but the listener carried away with him -ideas of love which differed widely both from those inculcated in his -French novels and those engendered in his precocious little mind by -the sensuous atmosphere of the harem in which he had been brought up. -It gave him his first glimpse of the gulf which remained fixed between -the most thoroughly Europeanised Turk and even an orientalised -Englishman, who, with all his faults and follies, was still the heir -of centuries of knightly training and Christian influence. Naimeh -Khanum would have rejoiced if she could have known the thoughts which -passed through her young brother’s mind in that half hour, for she -would have hoped that the realisation of the underlying difference -would lead him to make efforts to eradicate it altogether. But Azim -Bey differed in many respects from his sister. His nature, like those -of the men of his nation of whom she had spoken, was inclined to be -satisfied with external resemblance to Europeans, and the discovery of -the real unlikeness only made him hate all the more the individual -through whom it was brought home to him. -</p> - -<p> -“I really must go back to Lady Haigh now,” said Cecil, at last. “Azim -Bey will begin to suspect something.” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie’s reply was a remark not complimentary to Azim Bey. -</p> - -<p> -“And I haven’t seen you really since Christmas,” he went on—“not -properly, I mean. You keep me alive on very little crumbs of hope, -Cecil, and when the time comes for fulfilment you just give me some -more crumbs. I did think I should get a good talk with you to-day, but -I haven’t told you anything of all that I wanted to say. Now don’t -tell me I can say it next Sunday, for you know we get scarcely any -time together then.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor boy! why don’t you talk faster, and get more into the time?” -laughed Cecil, rising from her seat, and sending a little shower of -petals falling as the flower-laden boughs brushed her head. “I am sure -you have wasted a good deal of time to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I wanted to look at you, and not to talk,” said Charlie, and -they both laughed, much to Azim Bey’s disgust. Then Cecil’s veil -caught in something as she rearranged it (it was a most inconvenient -garment that veil, continually catching in things), and Charlie had to -disentangle it—a lengthy process, which made the onlooker more angry -still. Charlie caught Cecil’s hand in his once and kissed it, and Azim -Bey made bitter remarks in his own mind on the foolishness of lovers. -</p> - -<p> -“We must come,” said Cecil again. “Just think how very embarrassing it -would be if Azim Bey took it into his head to come and look for me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t care,” said Charlie. “What does he signify?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think you would be able to get much talk if he was here -listening to every word,” said Cecil. “Now, Charlie, please don’t, -<i>please</i>! I have just made myself tidy, and I must get my gloves on.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll put them on for you,” said Charlie, kindly, but the offer was -declined with thanks. The pair passed out of the little cleared spot -in the woods, so close to Azim Bey that Cecil’s dress almost brushed -him as she went by, and when they were out of sight he rose and made a -circuit through the grounds, so as to come upon the picnic-party from -an opposite direction. Lady Haigh had discovered her charge’s absence -by this time, and was in dire dismay about him; but his appearance and -his unruffled demeanour reassured her, for she could not guess that -his heart was so full of rage and fury that he could scarcely bring -himself to speak civilly to any one. It was a triumph of oriental -dissimulation which enabled him to keep cool, and no one ever -suspected that he had done more than search the grounds for Cecil and -had not found her. The rest of the day passed calmly enough, and Azim -Bey kept close to Cecil’s side, and conversed graciously, and behaved -like a civilised and well-brought-up young gentleman, while all the -time he was planning vengeance in his mind. -</p> - -<p> -The sun began to approach the horizon at last, and the party, hosts -and guests alike, prepared to return to the city. Torches were -lighted, the tents hastily taken down and rolled up with the carpets, -and while these were being taken on board the steam-launch the donkeys -belonging to the Palace party were brought round. Azim Bey was in a -great hurry to start, being anxious to prevent long leave-takings. He -mounted quickly, although this process was usually a lengthy and -dignified one, and waited impatiently for Cecil. So impatient was he -that he started before she was properly mounted, and she would have -fallen had not Charlie caught her in his arms. Boiling over with rage, -Charlie gave her into Lady Haigh’s care, and confronted Azim Bey, who -had returned in some alarm. -</p> - -<p> -“You did that on purpose, you little rascal!” cried Charlie, seizing -the boy’s rein. Azim Bey’s face became pale with rage. -</p> - -<p> -“You dare, monsieur? You venture to say that I desired to hurt -mademoiselle? Go, you are a pig, a serpent—I despise you! Go, I say!” -and he lifted his riding-whip, which Charlie immediately grasped. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t try that sort of thing on with me, young one,” he cried. “You’d -better not, or I may be tempted to give you a thrashing, which would -do you a lot of good.” -</p> - -<p> -“How, monsieur, you threaten me?” screamed Azim Bey. “I will remember -it, I will remember it well! You and I will meet, and you also shall -remember this. Go, dog of an Englishman!” with a vigorous tug at the -whip, to which Charlie gave a wrench that broke it between them. Azim -Bey flung the fragments in his face, with a torrent of curses. -</p> - -<p> -“Egerton!” said Sir Dugald, stepping between them, “what is the -meaning of this?” -</p> - -<p> -“He has insulted me, monsieur,” cried Azim Bey, trembling with -passion. Sir Dugald cast a scathing glance at Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“I am sure Dr Egerton is willing to apologise if he has inadvertently -said anything to offend you, Bey,” he said. “Egerton, you must -certainly see that there is no other course open to you. It is -impossible that you could have intended to insult the Bey.” -</p> - -<p> -“He shall apologise for it—in blood,” growled Azim Bey, ferociously, -while Charlie stood silent, nettled by Sir Dugald’s authoritative -tone. “He said I meant to hurt mademoiselle. The rest is for him and -me to settle alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie,” said Cecil, coming up with anxious eyes, “you did not -mean that, I’m sure. You must have known that the Bey would never -think of such a thing. You will apologise, won’t you? You really -ought.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you say I ought, I will,” said Charlie, turning from the whispered -colloquy with a defiant glance at Azim Bey and Sir Dugald. “I regret, -Bey, to have wounded your feelings by a hasty accusation which was not -justified by facts. I can’t say more than that.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you have done enough mischief, Egerton, perhaps you will rejoin -the rest of the party,” said Sir Dugald, in a low voice. “Allow me to -assist you to mount, Miss Anstruther.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil complied in silence, feeling ready to hate Sir Dugald for his -treatment of Charlie, and yet conscious that he had much to try him. -Diplomatic complications had arisen out of incidents no more important -than this one, and it was hard for her Majesty’s Consul-General to -find his best-laid plans endangered by the imprudence of a hot-headed -fool in love. And therefore he did his best to pacify Azim Bey, and -succeeded so well that the boy talked quite graciously to Cecil as -they rode back to the city over the short grass, lighted by the -flaring torches of their escort. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch18"> -CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">GATHERING CLOUDS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Azim Bey</span> was now all eagerness to communicate to his trusted ally M. -Karalampi the discovery he had made, which proved that he had been -right all along in fixing upon Charlie as the person whose removal was -necessary. But, as it happened, he did not succeed in meeting him -until some days after the picnic, and by this time the boy’s anxiety -to get rid of Dr Egerton had risen almost to fever-heat. M. Karalampi -was able to pacify him by assuring him that now that the most -important point was settled, Charlie should quit Baghdad within a -month—a promise which seemed impossible of fulfilment to Azim Bey, -who did not know that his agent had been secretly at work ever since -his services had been first engaged. He worked with extreme art and -delicacy, conveying to those he wished to influence slight intimations -which seemed nothing when taken alone, but which became dangerous -indeed when looked at in unison. At first he laboured chiefly to -influence the Pasha. Ahmed Khémi had hitherto known very little -respecting the doctor of the British Consulate, but for the space of -about a month M. Karalampi dinned his name into his patron’s ears in -season and out of season. Dr Egerton was a most dangerous man. He was -accustomed to disguise himself and go among the people, deceiving even -true believers. He was a spy, it was difficult to determine in whose -pay, but indubitably a spy. He intrigued with the Armenians, the Jews, -the Persians, the missionaries, the Russians, the Greeks. The Balio -Bey did not like him, but was forced to tolerate him, knowing, no -doubt, that he was employed by persons very high in authority. And so -on, and so on, until the harassed Pasha, bewildered by the number and -inconsistency of the charges, peremptorily ordered his too zealous -agent never to mention the name of that English doctor to him again, -on pain of his serious displeasure. -</p> - -<p> -This was just what M. Karalampi had intended, and it closed the first -act of the drama. He had gone upon the principle of throwing plenty of -mud, and he was quite satisfied as to its powers of sticking, even -though he himself had bowed respectfully and promised to obey his -Excellency, averring that it was only zeal for the good of the -Government that had made him so troublesome. His own work was over for -the present, and it was the turn of his confederates. Each of them had -only one thing to do, but they were all to be counted upon to do it. -At some time or other, in the Pasha’s hearing, they were to throw a -doubt on Dr Egerton’s honesty, hint at double-dealing on his part, or -remark that he had been seen in company with suspected persons. To the -last accusation Charlie’s inveterate habit of picking up disreputable -acquaintances lent a good deal of colour, and this helped to establish -the rest. The Pasha was staggered at last. He had silenced Karalampi, -but here were all these independent witnesses giving him the very same -warning. There must be something in it, and it would be foolish to -disregard the testimony of so many unbiassed persons. It might be that -Providence was giving him notice of some plot laid against him, while -he had been obstinately rejecting the warning. He made up his mind to -look into things very carefully in future. -</p> - -<p> -M. Karalampi perceived this, and chuckled as he made ready for the -third act of the play. Although his lips were sealed at the Palace, he -had not been silent in the city. Not that he ever spoke against the -English doctor, nor could any rumours be traced to him,—the only -thing certain was that Charlie Egerton had become desperately -unpopular. The shopkeepers with whom he had been wont to exchange a -passing word withdrew into the inmost recesses of their dwellings so -as not to be obliged to speak to him; children fled from before him, -or were snatched up by their mothers, in dreadful fear of the -evil-eye. There was one small boy who had once been brought by a still -smaller Armenian friend to the Residency, to be treated for a cut -finger or some other childish trouble, and who had been much impressed -by the well-filled shelves in the surgery. Hitherto it had always been -his delight to meet his doctor in the street and salute him with the -cry of “O father of bottles, peace be upon thee!” but now he crept -guiltily into a corner and hid himself if he saw him coming. This was -the hardest thing of all for Charlie to bear, even though the loungers -at the coffee-houses, with whom he had been something of a favourite, -crowded together and looked at him distrustfully as he passed, -muttering “Spy!” in ominous voices. The old women in the bazaars, -privileged by age and ugliness to have a voice in public, reviled him -roundly when they saw him, and then told each other in whispers that -he was paid by foreign enemies to bring in new diseases and spread -them in the city. -</p> - -<p> -This change in public opinion perplexed Charlie extremely. At first he -attributed it to another outburst of anti-English feeling, but this -theory was dispelled on his learning from Captain Rossiter that no -unpleasantness was displayed towards him. Then he set it down to some -temporary crank or fancy of the people’s, and thought little more -about it until, when he went one evening to call on Isaac Azevedo, the -old man told him plainly, though with many apologies, that his visits -were a source of danger to the whole Jewish quarter, and asked him not -to come again for the present. It was this which first opened his eyes -to the possibility of the approach of something more than mere -unpleasantness, but it was not really brought home to him until one -day when he had been to tea at the Mission-house, and Dr Yehudi took -him aside at parting, and asked him earnestly whether he still carried -a revolver, and whether it was ready for use. The danger of the -situation became clear to him then, and it was just about the same -time that M. Karalampi decided that matters were ripe for the -completion of his plan. -</p> - -<p> -Of the steps which led to this end Cecil saw only the last, and she -was made aware of it one Sunday, when she arrived at the Residency to -find Charlie looking out for her, with a doleful and even -shame-stricken visage. She cast uneasy glances at him every now and -then during the morning, but the gloom did not lift, and she waited -anxiously for the quiet afternoon-time when they were wont to exchange -their confidences. As soon as they were together in a shady corner of -the deserted drawing-room Charlie told his story. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve been an awful fool, Cecil, and got myself into a nice mess.” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie! What do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s perfectly true. You know that I was to dine at the Farajians’ on -Friday night? They are awfully nice people, and Farajian’s brother -Ephrem was to be there,—the man who has been travelling in the -mountains and looking for ruined cities. He was educated by some -American missionaries somewhere, and he has picked up an amazing -knowledge of antiquities. Well, I went, and found that all the guests -were Armenians except myself and Stavro Vogorides, that Greek fellow -who hangs about at the Russian Consulate.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know. I have seen him with M. Karalampi,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“We talked very pleasantly all dinner-time,” Charlie went on, “but at -the end some one—I think it was Vogorides, but I can’t be -sure—started the subject of Armenia. We were all friends, of course, -but it struck me even then as rather a risky thing to do among such -excitable people. You know that there’s no holding Armenians if you -once get them on that subject, and one after another told stories of -the most awful atrocities I ever heard. They made my blood run cold. I -can’t conceive how people who believe that such things have happened, -and many of them to relations of their own, can ever speak civilly to -a Turk again, or bear to be anywhere near him, except rifle in hand, -and I said something of the kind. It seemed to set them off, for they -all stood up and drank the toast of ‘Free Armenia!’ solemnly.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you drank it too? Oh, Charlie!” said Cecil, anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“That wasn’t all,” said Charlie, determined to free his conscience -completely, “for I said afterwards that I was sure if they ever did -rise, English people would help them with arms and men and money, just -as we did the Greeks in the War of Independence.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie!” groaned Cecil again, “how could you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. I was carried out of myself, I suppose. Well, in some -way or other, I can’t imagine how, the thing has got to Sir Dugald’s -ears. He sent for me last night, and gave me such a wigging! Of course -I was a fool to say what I did, but he makes out that if the thing got -known I should have to leave Baghdad at once. He said it was an -unpardonable breach of diplomatic etiquette, an indiscretion he should -have considered impossible. He said I ought to consider you, too, and -not go imperilling my life and my prospects in the way I did. He also -said a good deal more—in fact, I got it pretty hot.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what did he mean about imperilling your life?” asked Cecil, -quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I didn’t mean to say that, but perhaps after all you had better -hear it from me; you won’t be so much frightened. It may not have -anything to do with it at all, but yesterday, when I was out riding -with Rossiter on the other side of the river, a fellow potted at me -with a long gun. It may have been only that he wanted something to -shoot at, but the people round here do seem to have rather a prejudice -against me just now. Anyhow, he missed, and we gave chase, but he got -away.” -</p> - -<p> -“But who can have told Sir Dugald about the Farajians’ dinner-party?” -asked Cecil. “The servants?” -</p> - -<p> -“There were none in the room at the time. No, he absolutely declined -to tell me—said it was enough for me that he knew. I don’t know who -it could be.” -</p> - -<p> -“It may have been M. Vogorides,” mused Cecil. “Charlie, have you ever -made an enemy of him or of M. Karalampi?” -</p> - -<p> -“Would you have me make a friend of either of them?” he inquired. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there is a kind of distant civility you might employ towards -them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not towards them, that is just it, any more than towards a snake, -except with something between—bars or glass or something of that -sort. I cannot stand these Levantines. There is something picturesque -and romantic about a Jew, even if he does try to cheat you; and as for -the Arabs and Turks, it makes you quite sorry to know the trouble they -take to get the better of you, when you see through them all the time. -But those Greeks, ugh!” -</p> - -<p> -“That sounds as though you objected to them because they were clever -enough to be able to cheat you,” said Cecil. “But if this is the way -you regard them, no doubt you have hurt M. Vogorides’ feelings at some -time or other, and he has tried to revenge himself on you by telling -Sir Dugald. But do take care of yourself, Charlie. What should I do if -anything happened to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think you would do much better without me,” broke out Charlie. “I -see that I ought never to have asked you to marry me, Cecil, such a -heedless fool as I am, and I also see that I ought to give you up now, -instead of worrying you with my misfortunes. I really mean it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Happily, the decision doesn’t lie with you,” said Cecil. “Why, what a -fair-weather friend you must think me, Charlie! Have I deserved it? -Have I ever seemed worried by your misfortunes? I should have thought -I had felt them too much for such a word to be applicable.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are an angel,” said Charlie, and kissed her. -</p> - -<p> -“I have only this to say,” went on Cecil, freeing herself. “You may -give me up if you like, but I decline entirely to give you up. If you -wish me to go through life in the ridiculous position of a girl -engaged to a man who doesn’t consider himself engaged to her, I must -bear it, I suppose.” -</p> - -<p> -“You know I don’t,” said Charlie, and the conversation after this -point became somewhat personal and lacking in coherence, until Charlie -tore himself away to go and visit his patients. But Cecil was still -anxious and uneasy, and at afternoon tea, finding that Charlie was -still absent, she moved boldly across to Sir Dugald, determined to -learn the worst. -</p> - -<p> -“To what am I indebted for this unwonted honour?” was the question -asked by Sir Dugald’s eyebrows as he rose and gave her his chair, but -in words he only inquired whether she found the spot shady enough. -</p> - -<p> -“I wanted to speak to you about Dr Egerton,” she said, breathlessly, -too anxious about Charlie to answer his question politely. Sir -Dugald’s eyebrows went up. -</p> - -<p> -“Would it be rude to say that I have already heard rather too much -about Dr Egerton lately?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -“That was just the reason why I wanted to talk to you about him,” said -Cecil. “Were you in earnest in what you said to him last night?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not in the habit of playing practical jokes on the officials of -this Consulate,” said Sir Dugald, rather stiffly. “If you mean to -inquire whether Egerton has really endangered his prospects, I can -only say that I fully believe he has.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it seems such a little thing,” urged Cecil, “merely akin to -talking politics in society at home.” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly,” said Sir Dugald, “in one way. It is as if a member of the -Government, at some very important crisis, should take the opportunity -of declaring, at a dinner-party of opponents, that he differed from -his party as to the policy to be pursued, and meant to thwart it in -every way he could.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Charlie never meant that,” said Cecil, aghast. -</p> - -<p> -“Probably not,” said Sir Dugald, grimly. “It was a momentary -indiscretion, but such indiscretions are unpardonable. Support your -agents through thick and thin, to the brink of war if necessary, so -long as they obey orders and act with common-sense; but you must get -rid of them and disavow their actions the moment you find they are -swayed by enthusiasm, or fanaticism, or too much zeal, or anything of -the kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“But surely you must expect them to be either angels or machines,” -said Cecil. “Have you no enthusiasms, Sir Dugald?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have preferences, unfortunately, but I do my best to nullify them. -When I find myself sympathising with one party, I make it a point to -do the other rather more than justice.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that is unfair to the first party,” objected Cecil. “Why should -they suffer because they have your sympathy?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know—to show them I am not an angel, I suppose,” said Sir -Dugald. -</p> - -<p> -“But still,” said Cecil, returning to the charge, “I can’t quite see -why it should be so very wrong and dangerous for Dr Egerton to have -said what he did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Simply for this reason, that what he said was calculated to foster in -the minds of the Armenians the mischievous delusion that they will be -supported, unofficially at any rate, by England if they rebel. News of -such a kind spreads like wildfire, and is likely to make the task of -Turkish government more difficult. Now we are here to bolster up -Turkey, as these people put ropes round an old house to keep it -together in a storm, and Egerton tries to spoil our work.” -</p> - -<p> -“But is it right to bolster up Turkey?” asked Cecil, doubtfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, if we are coming to questions of morals, I shall have to take a -back seat,” said Sir Dugald. “I will only say this, I conscientiously -believe that if Turkey fell to-morrow, a far worse tyranny would -ensue. You would not remember the Polish horrors, but we heard plenty -about them when I was young.” -</p> - -<p> -“And Dr Yehudi has told me of the persecutions of the Jews,” murmured -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly. So you see what we are doing. We are keeping up a bad state -of things for fear of a worse. The Turks are sensible enough not to -kick, but we can’t expect them to like our helping them, and they -don’t feel inclined to give us any assistance. They won’t make the -slightest attempt to whitewash themselves in order to spare our -feelings, or make our proceedings look better to the world. We do what -we can to put down atrocities, but changes of policy at home and -changes of ambassador at Constantinople have succeeded in frittering -away most of our moral influence, and we can’t descend to brute force. -It’s inexpedient, and it’s ungentlemanly. We are the stronger party, -and we can’t hit a State weaker than ourselves. Now do you see where -the doctor went wrong? He let his feelings carry him away, and said -just what came into his head, regardless of all this. His tongue has -got him into trouble before, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I know,” said Cecil, with a sigh. “Isn’t it wonderful that he -can manage to keep safe when he disguises himself as a native?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am afraid that it shows he has the power of silence, but does not -care to exercise it except on great occasions,” said Sir Dugald, with -a peculiar smile. -</p> - -<p> -“But what do you think he had better do now?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Lie low for a little, I should say. I am thinking of sending him and -D’Silva out to Takht-Iskandar for a week or two’s shooting. Now that -the <i>Nausicaa</i> is here, her surgeon can look after the hospital. But -I give you fair warning, Miss Anstruther, that if there is any more -foolishness on the doctor’s part he will have to pack. If you can -impress that on him I shall be thankful.” -</p> - -<p> -And Sir Dugald gave up his place to Charlie, who was approaching, and -went away muttering, “She thinks he can keep quiet when he is -disguised, so that the natives don’t find him out, does she? I believe -they take him for a madman, and so let him go unmolested.” But in this -he was unjust to Charlie, who, as he himself had once said, seemed to -put on a different nature with his oriental garb. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil returned to the Palace that night feeling nervous and depressed. -It was as though a foreboding of coming trouble was hanging over her, -and she tried in vain to reason herself into the belief that the -depression was purely physical, and due to the fact that the weather -was hot and thundery. The next day the storm came. It was unusually -early in the season for thunder, but the Baghdadis said they had -seldom known a more tremendous storm. It began about mid-day, when -Cecil and her pupil were taking their usual rest, and Azim Bey was -declaring his views on the subject of a book he had been reading. It -was nearly time for dinner, but the sky became suddenly dark, and the -trembling servants, leaving their work, crept into the lower part of -the schoolroom and sat huddled together. Azim Bey was constitutionally -timid on some occasions, and he exhibited now such fear as almost -paralysed him. He crouched in a corner, shuddering at every fresh -flash of lightning, and trembling violently when the thunder crashed, -his face ashy white with terror. The wind howled and shrieked around -the house, tearing off projecting portions of the ornamentation, and -making such a noise that no one could be heard speaking. Cecil caught -a glimpse once, by the glare of the lightning, of her pupil’s face, -and its expression surprised her. Fear was portrayed there, as she -expected, but also a tremendous determination. Azim Bey’s lips were -locked together as though he were defying all the powers of the storm -to force him to disclose something he was resolved to keep secret. -</p> - -<p> -The thunder and lightning diminished in intensity at last, the wind -ceased to howl, and daylight returned in some measure, but the rain -continued to pour down, and the roof was discovered to be letting in -water in streams. Azim Bey, whose courage had now returned, roused the -servants from their lethargy of terror and set them to work to repair -the leaks, finding himself in his element as he sat upon the divan and -directed operations. When the roof was made fairly water-tight again, -he despatched the women to bring in the long-delayed dinner, and when -the meal was over, requested Cecil politely to bring her -photograph-album and tell him about her brothers. Cecil complied, -wondering to find him so agreeably disposed. Ordinarily, after such a -display of timidity as that of the morning, he was wont to swagger and -bluster a good deal in order to remove the impression. But this -evening his behaviour was perfect. He was deeply interested, as usual, -in the young Anstruthers, and particularly in Fitz’s adventures with -his latest possession, the camera Cecil had given him, by means of -which he had succeeded in sending out to his sister painful and most -unflattering portraits of the rest of the family. In after-days Cecil -looked back to this evening to try whether she could discover in her -pupil’s manner any signs of compunction for the work he had in hand, -but she could remember none. He was cheerfully polite, with the kind -of politeness a magnanimous conqueror might show to a prisoner in his -power. No youthful Black Prince could have been more courteous than he -was. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning, however, things were changed. Azim Bey was summoned -by a message from his father to attend a grand State ceremony, the -investment of Ahmed Khémi Pasha with the insignia of a very exalted -order sent direct from Constantinople by the hands of a special -functionary. The welcome to be accorded to the envoy of the Padishah, -and the formalities of the investiture, would occupy the whole day, -and Azim Bey resented strongly the command he received to be present. -He grumbled for some time because Cecil could not come with him, and -went off at last in a very bad temper, leaving her pleasantly occupied -in writing her letters home. -</p> - -<p> -It was Um Yusuf who first scented something wrong. Cecil could never -discover whether her silent attendant had suspected that mischief was -brewing, and had laid her plans accordingly, or not; but it is certain -that she could not be found when Azim Bey desired to speak to her, and -give her a few directions for her mistress’s comfort before he went -out, and that she reappeared some time after his departure, with the -excuse that she had met her cousin in the bazaar and had been having -a talk with her. This she explained volubly in the presence of Basmeh -Kalfa and old Ayesha, and then curled herself up on the carpet for her -mid-day nap; but as soon as the other two had dropped off to sleep, -she rose, and approaching Cecil with her finger on her lips, laid a -note on the table before her. The handwriting was Lady Haigh’s, and -Cecil tore the envelope open in alarm. The letter was short:— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“<span class="sc">My dearest Cecil</span>,—Come to me <i>immediately</i>. Let <i>nothing</i> prevent -you, if you wish to escape <i>eternal regret</i>. Put on your riding-habit -under your sheet, and bring <i>no one</i> but Um Yusuf.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“You go, mademoiselle?” asked Um Yusuf in a whisper, as she met -Cecil’s terrified eyes. Cecil nodded, and rose from her table. They -passed on tiptoe between the sleeping women (Um Yusuf had adroitly -placed herself in such a position that they could not block the door) -and gained their own rooms. Um Yusuf knew only that the note had been -placed in her hand by a cavass from the Consulate, with a warning to -deliver it secretly and at once, together with an intimation that the -man would wait at a certain spot outside the Palace to escort Mdlle. -Antaza to the Residency, if she decided to come. More she could not -tell, and Cecil hurried into her riding-habit and arranged the sheet -over it. They left the courtyard without remark, for Masûd was in -attendance on Azim Bey, and at the great gate the guards knew them and -let them pass. They met the cavass at the appointed place, and -hastened through the streets to the Residency under his guardianship. -At the gate they were met by Mr D’Silva, one of the clerks, who took -them to Lady Haigh at once. -</p> - -<p> -“O, Lady Haigh, what is it?” gasped Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“It is a great trouble, dear,” said Lady Haigh, taking her in her -arms. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it Charlie?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, dear; it is Charlie.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch19"> -CHAPTER XIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">“BETWIXT MY LOVE AND ME.”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Is</span> he—is he——” faltered Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Not <i>dead</i>, my dear? oh no! how could you imagine that?” cried Lady -Haigh, in great excitement; “nor hurt, nor even in danger, I hope, at -present. But the horses are ready. Let us start at once, and I will -tell you about it as we go along. Mr D’Silva is coming with us.” -</p> - -<p> -They left the Residency and rode in single file through the narrow -streets of the city; but once outside the gate, Mr D’Silva withdrew to -a respectful distance with the cavasses, and Lady Haigh and Cecil were -left side by side. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Lady Haigh, please tell me,” cried Cecil, whose brain had been -busy conjuring up horrors the whole time. -</p> - -<p> -“You must be brave, my dear child, and thankful—thankful that you are -able to see Charlie once more, when it was just a chance that they -didn’t succeed in keeping you from him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Haigh!” Cecil almost screamed, “they haven’t put him in prison?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, my dear, no. Your imagination certainly dwells on horrors. Wait a -little, and I will tell you it all. You know that for some time -Charlie has been very unpopular in the city, and that the <i>budmashes</i>, -as we should call them in India, have been shouting bad names after -him in the streets? Well, it has been a great mystery why this should -be, for he got on so very well with the Baghdadis in his first two -years here, but now it seems that they have come to regard him in some -way as a spy. Of course there has been mischief at work, somebody has -been slandering him, but that doesn’t make it any better. Naturally I -knew all this, but nothing more, and what has happened to-day has been -a tremendous shock. Very early this morning Sir Dugald received a -letter from the Pasha, brought by Ovannes Effendi. I don’t know what -was in it, but Denarien Bey called just about the same time, and they -were all three closeted together. Then Denarien Bey and the other man -went away, and Sir Dugald sent for Charlie. I had no idea that there -was anything wrong, or even out of the common, and you may conceive my -astonishment when Charlie came rushing to me in a fearful state and -told me that Sir Dugald had ordered him to proceed at once to Bandr -Abbas, right away down the Gulf, and remain there until further -orders. They have an outbreak of cholera there, and their doctor is -overworked and has telegraphed for help. Of course Charlie didn’t mind -the cholera, but he was to start to-day, by the steamer leaving this -very morning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Lady Haigh, he isn’t <i>gone</i>?” cried Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“You may well be astonished, dear. I assure you I laughed at the -notion of such a thing. ‘My dear boy,’ I said to Charlie, ‘you have -made some mistake. Wait here, and I will go and speak to Sir Dugald.’ -And I went, Cecil, and it was true. Sir Dugald was very busy, getting -ready to go to this wretched investiture, and I couldn’t make him tell -me all I wanted to know, or else my brain was in such a whirl that it -didn’t penetrate properly. All that I could make out was that the -Pasha had sent to say that Charlie was a spy, and that he couldn’t -have him in the city any longer—which, of course, is utter -nonsense—and that he had better leave as soon as possible, for that -the <i>budmashes</i> were crying out for his blood. That was true enough, -my dear; there was a mob of them in front of the gate howling out the -most dreadful things. I never felt so thunderstruck and so much at a -loss in my life. It was as if the world’s foundations were shaking, or -we were in a transformation scene at a pantomime. There has been -absolutely nothing to account for all these extraordinary events, but -yet they have happened, and Charlie must go. I begged and entreated -Sir Dugald to let him wait for the next steamer, but he asked me -whether I wanted to have his blood upon my head, and said he should -see him safely on board before he started for this thing. Well, my -dear, I saw that there was no doing anything with Sir Dugald, so I -went back to poor Charlie. He was nearly wild, and I can tell you I -was not much better, what with getting all his things packed in such -a hurry, and everything. He wanted to force his way into the Palace -and insist on seeing you, but it would have been throwing his life -away to venture into the town, and Sir Dugald absolutely forbade it, -and told him he would have him put under arrest if he tried it. Then -the poor fellow and I managed to devise a plan. I wasn’t going to let -him be driven away without saying good-bye to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, thank you, Lady Haigh,” murmured Cecil, her eyes wet. -</p> - -<p> -“So I made up my mind what to do,” continued Lady Haigh; “I just took -the law into my hands, for I knew it was no use speaking to Sir -Dugald, and if he is angry I don’t mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he couldn’t help all this,” Cecil’s sense of justice impelled her -to say. “What could he have done?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear,” responded Lady Haigh, in the true Jingo spirit, “he could -have torn up the Pasha’s letter and sent him back the pieces. He could -have said to those two poor wretched Armenians, ‘Go and tell your -master, if he wants to get rid of Dr Egerton, to come and turn him -out.’ And he could have called out the guard and armed the servants, -and defended the Residency as long as there were two stones left on -one another, and he ought to have done it, rather than get rid of -Charlie at the beck of an upstart like Ahmed Khémi.” -</p> - -<p> -And Lady Haigh paused for breath after this tremendous burst of -eloquence. -</p> - -<p> -“But the plan?” asked Cecil. “Where are we going now?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was just telling you, dear. As I said, I took the law into my own -hands. I saw the captain of the steamer, and I put the whole affair -before him. Sometimes, you know, honesty is really the best policy. I -said to him, ‘Captain Wheen, you are a sailor’—that flattered him, -because of course his voyages are all confined to the river—‘and I -want your help in a very delicate matter. You may have heard that my -cousin, Dr Egerton, is ordered down to Bandr Abbas to help with the -cholera there. Now he is engaged to the young lady they call Mdlle. -Antaza, at the Palace, the Pasha’s English governess, and it will -break her heart if he goes without saying good-bye to her.’ I could -see that Captain Wheen was very much touched; but he pretended he -wasn’t, and said very gruffly, ‘I can’t delay the sailing of the -<i>Seleucia</i> for any Pasha or Resident’s lady on earth.’ I said, -‘Captain Wheen, I am sure you know that I would not on any account -have you break your rules, or get into trouble with your owners. What -I want to say is this. Dr Egerton was to start to-morrow for a little -shooting at Takht-Iskandar, and his things were all sent there early -to-day before we heard of this. Now I ask you, would it be possible -for you to stop off Takht-Iskandar and allow him and his servant to go -on shore for an hour or two, to pack up the things and bring them on -board? That would give me time to send a note to the Palace, and come -out to Takht-Iskandar.’ ‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘You see, if we -took to letting passengers go on shore where they liked to fetch more -luggage, it would sink the ship at last, besides doubling the length -of the voyage; but I can tell you this, ma’am, in confidence—the -engines of the <i>Seleucia</i> are wonderfully cranky. Now if anything was -to go wrong with those engines, and we had to lie-to for an hour or so -to set it right, I shouldn’t wonder if it was to happen just off -Takht-Iskandar, and then of course the doctor might go on shore and -fetch his togs. Now there’s just that chance, ma’am, and it would -never surprise me if it was to happen. Engines are queer things,’ and -I believe he winked at me. That was all that I could get out of him; -but it did what I wanted, so I settled matters with Charlie. He was to -make as long a business of his packing as he possibly could, and I was -to bring you out to say good-bye to him. I didn’t know how to reach -you, for I was afraid they wouldn’t admit me at the Palace; but I -thought a note might get in. So I sent it off; but I don’t think it -would ever have got to you if Um Yusuf hadn’t met her cousin in the -bazaar and loitered talking to her.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why do you think there would have been any difficulty?” asked -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, is it possible you don’t see that this is all a plot? There -is some deep purpose behind these extraordinary events, and the only -purpose I can conceive is that of separating you and Charlie. You tell -me that Azim Bey dislikes him, and I can quite believe that he is -capable of very strong childish jealousy. Mind, I don’t think he -managed all the details. There is some older and wilier person -behind—possibly the Um-ul-Pasha or Jamileh Khanum. At any rate, Azim -Bey had taken his precautions very carefully, and if he had not been -summoned away the note would never have got to you, and Charlie would -have gone without your even saying good-bye to him. So, my dear, be -thankful.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Lady Haigh!” remonstrated Cecil. She could say no more: the blow -was too sudden, too dreadful. She rode along in silence, while Lady -Haigh poured forth stores of comfortless comfort, and adjured her to -be cheerful when she met Charlie. Cheerful! the very word was a -mockery. The gloomy unsettled skies and muddy plain seemed to accord -better with her mood than did Lady Haigh’s philosophy. They were -approaching Takht-Iskandar now, and everything looked sad and sodden. -All the glory of the white and pink and purple fruit-blossom was gone, -and little green fruits alone represented the promise of a month ago. -The palace, always flimsy and dilapidated-looking, was sorely battered -and damaged by the storm of yesterday, and the trees were beaten down -and in many cases stripped of their leaves. The riders approached -softly along the sandy road, and paused at the corner of the house, -where Mr D’Silva left his horse and went on to reconnoitre. Presently -he came back, and, helping the two ladies to dismount, led them in at -a side-door which was unfastened, and on through various passages and -unfurnished rooms until they reached the dining-room, where Charlie, -with his Armenian boy Hanna, was engaged in separating his shooting -requisites from those of Mr D’Silva—their possessions having been -sent on together. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, marching into the room, “doing your -guns on this table, are you? Take them away into the smoking-room this -instant, Hanna, and finish them there. How long have you been here, -Charlie?” -</p> - -<p> -“Hours, Cousin Elma,” groaned Charlie, with Cecil’s hands locked in -his. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you had better go back to the <i>Seleucia</i> at once,” said Lady -Haigh, promptly. -</p> - -<p> -“One hour, ten minutes, milady,” put in Hanna, as he carried off the -guns. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you can have half an hour, Charlie—not a moment more, and even -that is trading on Captain Wheen’s kindness in a most shameful way. Mr -D’Silva, if you will be so kind as to see that no one interrupts us -for half an hour, we shall be eternally grateful to you. We can trust -you for that, I think?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am an Englishman, Lady Haigh,” replied Mr D’Silva, more in sorrow -than in anger, as he withdrew, quite unconscious that he was saying -the very thing which, as Lady Haigh remarked afterwards, when she -remembered to be cynical, an Englishman would not have said. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, when he was gone, “make the most of -your time. Never mind me,” and she sat down on the divan and composed -herself as if for a nap, while Charlie and Cecil wandered to the other -end of the room and enjoyed the luxury of being thoroughly miserable. -For some time Cecil could do nothing but cry, with her head on -Charlie’s shoulder, while he tried to comfort her, but found the -situation so devoid of comfort that he failed miserably. -</p> - -<p> -“Ten minutes more,” came in a sepulchral voice from the corner where -Lady Haigh sat, engrossed now with a tattered copy of the Army and -Navy Stores list. Cecil roused herself with a sob. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie,” she said, “what shall I do without you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Look here, my darling,” said Charlie, energetically, struck with a -sudden idea; “just listen to me one moment. I can’t bear to leave you -here among all these wretches. Will you—could you—marry me at once? -If you would, I——” -</p> - -<p> -“Charlie!” was interjected sharply by Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“I would come back to the Residency, and we could get Dr Yehudi to -marry us. Then you would come with me, and we should not be parted -after all.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think, young man, you are forgetting that you would have to reckon -with Sir Dugald,” said Lady Haigh, grimly. “I am astonished at your -innocence. After knocking about the world for so long, can you really -imagine that it is as easy to get married as to order your breakfast -at a hotel?” -</p> - -<p> -“Besides, I wouldn’t have you venture back into Baghdad for anything,” -said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Then I will wait at Basra for three weeks, or as long as the -regulations require,” said Charlie, eagerly, “and Cousin Elma will -bring you down there. O, Cecil, my darling, do say yes.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie!” sighed Cecil, but in a moment her face changed and grew -firm; “I can’t do it—it would be wrong. Why, Charlie, you forget that -I am pledged to stay here for more than two years and a half still. I -can’t leave my post. My duty is here, and yours, I suppose, is at -Bandr Abbas. When Azim Bey’s education is finished, then I shall be at -liberty to leave Baghdad, and then——” -</p> - -<p> -“Can’t you come now, dear?” he pleaded. “I don’t want to persuade you -if it is really your duty to stay, but I think that Azim Bey’s conduct -has not been so considerate that you need strain matters on his -account. Think of our going home together, Cecil, and seeing all your -people again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t,” murmured Cecil, brokenly; “you make me so miserable, Charlie. -You can’t think how I want to see Whitcliffe again, and all of them. -But I mustn’t go. It isn’t right. I can’t break my promise. You know -you wouldn’t respect me yourself if I did such a thing. So I must -stay, and you must go. Besides, there is another reason. If you -resigned now, and stayed at Basra, and went home afterwards, instead -of going to Bandr Abbas, they would say you were afraid of the -cholera, and I couldn’t bear that any one should think that of you. -No, I have some consideration for you, Charlie dear, though I have got -you into such trouble. I was thinking as we came along that it might -have been better for you if you had never met me at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it!” cried Charlie. “Never think that again, Cecil. Why, -before I met you I was a regular loafer, just doing a spell of work in -one place and then getting myself sent on somewhere else, and never -settling down. But now I have something to work for, something to look -forward to. I should have missed the chief good of my life if I had -never met you. No, dear, knowing you has done everything for me, and I -am as thankful as I can be for it now, and I always shall be. As for -this trouble, no doubt it comes because otherwise I should be too -happy.” -</p> - -<p> -“Your time is nearly up, Cecil,” said Lady Haigh. “Don’t you want to -give Charlie any cautions about taking care of himself at Bandr -Abbas?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I don’t think so,” said Cecil. “I know he will do his duty -wherever he is, and I also know that he will remember me and not let -himself be careless about taking proper precautions, and that sort of -thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“And every evening,” said Charlie, “I shall go up to the wind-tower -and look in the direction of Baghdad, and imagine that you are -standing on the roof of the Palace and looking towards Bandr Abbas.” -</p> - -<p> -“When she will probably be having her tea with Azim Bey quietly in the -cellar,” said Lady Haigh. “Don’t be sentimental, Charlie. I detest -sentiment.” -</p> - -<p> -“When you leave Bandr Abbas, do you think it possible that you will be -allowed to come back here?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid not,” said Charlie. “It’s not likely, is it, Cousin Elma? -No; I may be sent somewhere else in the Gulf, or to Aden, if Sir -Dugald is kind enough to give me a good character, but this business -with the Pasha will probably prevent my ever coming back to Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the mystery may be cleared up, and everything put right,” -suggested Cecil, hopefully. “You would come back if you were asked, -Charlie?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather! I would come back as bottle-washer to a Bengali <i>babu</i>, like -the doctor they have at Muscat,” said Charlie, “but I’m afraid the -Persian shore of the Gulf will be my nearest point.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, “do you really think of taking -another post? You have not been home for a long time, and your -property must be all going to rack and ruin. Why not resign when you -have seen them through at Bandr Abbas, and go home to look after -things a little?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want to go home until I can take Cecil,” said Charlie. -“Besides, she prefers me to have something to do instead of loafing.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if you have land and tenants at home, they ought to be looked -after,” said Cecil. “I never realised it before.” -</p> - -<p> -“What an unworldly young person you are!” said Charlie. “Yes, there’s -all that, but Aunt Frederica looks after it for me.” -</p> - -<p> -“By all means, my dear boy, go home and get the place ready for Cecil, -and make acquaintance with her people,” said Lady Haigh. “But don’t -let Frederica choose your carpets and curtains for you. Her taste is -atrocious. And now, Cecil, you have had thirty-five minutes, so say -good-bye and come.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just one minute more, Cousin Elma,” pleaded Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a second,” said Lady Haigh. “Now, Charlie, not another scene of -misery,—I can’t stand it. Say good-bye quickly, my dear boy. If you -harrow up Cecil’s feelings again, it will be too much for her.” -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon,” said Mr D’Silva’s voice at the door, “but the -boat is waiting for Dr Egerton.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Charlie, my dear boy,” said poor Lady Haigh, entreatingly, as -Charlie still stood with his arms round Cecil. “You will get us all -into trouble, you know, and we have really done all we could for you, -and Sir Dugald will be so much vexed. Good-bye, my dear boy. Now let -her go. Take care of yourself, and don’t be rash. No, you are not to -come farther than this. I will look after Cecil. My dear child, don’t -faint. I don’t know what will happen to us if you do. Charlie, I will -<i>not</i> have you come any farther. Go back, and get on board. Mr -D’Silva, please give Miss Anstruther your arm to the door. Charlie, go -back. My dear boy, good-bye. Give Cecil’s love to her people.” -</p> - -<p> -And Lady Haigh, reiterating her instructions and prohibitions in a -voice choked with tears, followed Cecil and Mr D’Silva along the -passage, turning suddenly to find that Charlie was following her -stealthily, bent on getting another sight of Cecil. She drove him back -again with one of her quick bursts of passion, and hurried to the spot -where the horses were waiting. She and Mr D’Silva helped Cecil into -the saddle, for she was in a numb, dazed condition, and he led her -horse through the wood and into the road. Pausing only once, to see -the <i>Seleucia</i> passing out of sight round a bend in the stream, they -rode swiftly back to Baghdad, which looked dull and miserable under -the clouded sky, with mud under foot and sodden palm-trees overhead, -and a turbid, rapidly flowing river that could not reflect the mean -houses on either side. -</p> - -<p> -When Azim Bey returned that night from the ceremony of the -investiture, he was surprised to find his courtyard almost in -darkness. Going into the schoolroom, he found that the only light came -from the glowing charcoal in the brazier, beside which Cecil was -crouching, still in her riding-habit. The wind had risen again, and -was howling round the house and in the beams of the roof, and the -whole scene was one of desolation. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you ill, mademoiselle?” asked Azim Bey, in the most natural tone -he could devise, while one of the negresses followed him in, carrying -a torch, which shed a flickering light on the darkness. Cecil said -nothing, but looked up at him with eyes of such sadness that they -haunted him in spite of his efforts to banish the impression. -</p> - -<p> -“I do not understand you, mademoiselle,” he said, unblushingly, in -reply to her unspoken reproof. -</p> - -<p> -“You have driven Dr Egerton away,” she said. -</p> - -<p> -“I ask your pardon, mademoiselle. How was I to know that you had any -special interest in the English doctor?” -</p> - -<p> -“But you did know,” said Cecil, wearily. She had not spirit to contend -with her pupil that night. -</p> - -<p> -“But, mademoiselle, that is impossible. You have never told me; you -would not even let me approach the subject. How was I to know?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I tell?” asked Cecil. “I feel sure that you did know, and -that all this is your doing. Well, Bey, you have won the victory; I -hope you enjoy it. Good-night.” And he saw her no more that evening. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch20"> -CHAPTER XX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">INTERCEPTED LETTERS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">In</span> her own room that night, Cecil, in the first strength of her -grief and desolation, took a solemn resolution never on any account to -mention Charlie to Azim Bey again. He was jealous of him—well, he -should have no more cause to be so. So far as her intercourse with her -pupil went, all should be as though Charlie had never existed. In view -of the armed neutrality which had hitherto subsisted between them on -this subject, it was not, perhaps, quite clear in what way she could -do more than she had already done, but it soothed her feelings to make -these resolutions. She would never allude to her engagement in -conversation with Azim Bey again, no, not if she were dying for a -sight of Charlie. Even though all that had happened was to be ascribed -to his malevolent interposition, she would never degrade herself and -Charlie so far as to seek his help in setting things right, nor yet to -recur to the part he had played in the events which had just occurred. -After all, she had come to Baghdad to teach Azim Bey, and not to find -a husband for herself, and it might be that her pupil considered -himself justified in objecting to her interesting herself in such -extraneous matters. At any rate, he should not have to complain of -this again. She would devote herself more earnestly than ever to his -education, but he should never be so far honoured as to have Charlie’s -name mentioned in his hearing. -</p> - -<p> -The plan seemed to work beautifully. Cecil laboured long the next -morning in removing from her face the traces left by her tears and by -an almost sleepless night, and appeared in the schoolroom as if the -events of the day before had never occurred. Azim Bey understood the -situation perfectly, and accepted it. He was very gracious, and he -could afford to be so, for he had gained all he wanted. Nothing could -well have been more delightful than his behaviour—it might almost be -called chivalrous. If Cecil had not had the memory of yesterday to -warn her, she might have been tempted to imagine that her young -barbarian was becoming a gentleman; but her eyes were opened now, and -she could only wonder and admire, without being convinced. -</p> - -<p> -The days passed on. Sir Dugald received a telegram from Bandr Abbas to -say that Charlie had reached that place safely, and found an -extraordinary amount of work awaiting him. After that there came a -long unbroken silence. From the Indian newspapers, and through -official channels, they heard occasionally that the epidemic was -running its course, and that the two surgeons were working heroically -among the sick and dying, but there did not come one single message -from Charlie himself. Cecil was astonished, but she never thought of -blaming him. Possibly he would not write to her lest the letter should -convey infection, and he was certainly overwhelmed with work, very -likely with insufficient leisure even for needed rest. In this belief -she bestowed all the more pains on her own letters, doing her best, by -means of their fulness and tenderness, to bridge over the distance -which separated her from her lover, so far as this could be done from -one side only. -</p> - -<p> -At last Sir Dugald received another telegram, which said that before -resigning his position under Government, Charlie was making a tour of -inspection, in company with a high medical official, of the British -settlements in the Gulf. The cholera had been stamped out at Bandr -Abbas, and when this tour was over, Charlie was going home. The -telegram concluded with the words, “Letters all missed,” which seemed -to shed a little light on the mystery of the sender’s long silence. No -doubt he had written, but in some way or other all his letters had -gone astray. It was strange, however, that even after this none -arrived. Sir Dugald expressed it as his opinion that Charlie must go -about looking for pumps in which to post his letters, under the -impression that they were pillar-boxes; but Lady Haigh and Cecil held -firmly to the belief that, moving about as he was from place to place, -he was too busy to write. In vain did Sir Dugald, who had assumed -quite a paternal authority over Cecil since their confidential talk on -the Sunday preceding Charlie’s departure, urge her to bring her lover -to a sense of his undeserved blessings by suspending her own letters -for a time—she felt that this was impossible. The long -journal-letters supplied the place to her of the Sunday afternoon -talks which she had been accustomed to enjoy. A third telegram -informed them that Charlie was going home, and gave his English -address very clearly. “Letters still gone wrong,” it said again, and -Cecil triumphed over Sir Dugald, although he told her that she was -only saving Charlie’s character as a lover at the expense of his -common-sense. -</p> - -<p> -The news of Dr Egerton’s resignation of his post was now public -property, and people began to perceive merits which they had hitherto -ignored in the way he had performed his duties. His colleague at Bandr -Abbas and the rest of the English community there were loud in their -praises of his behaviour during the epidemic, and this caused his -former adventurous journeys, undertaken for the purpose of -investigating the diffusion of the disease, to be brought to mind. -Even the fact of his having been instrumental in checking the spread -of a cholera epidemic in his former post,—a success which had been -followed, as he had told Cecil bitterly long before, by his enforced -resignation,—was recalled, and one or two very hard things were said -of the superior who had insisted on his removal. In fact, he was the -hero of the hour among a certain set in India, chiefly consisting, it -is to be feared, of those who had been disappointed and passed over, -like himself, but numbering in their ranks some few who could command -a hearing in the Press. The remarks of the Indian papers were balm to -the souls of Cecil and Lady Haigh, and they read with avidity all that -was said in Charlie’s praise, although Lady Haigh once remarked -sadly— -</p> - -<p> -“It all comes too late, Cecil. A little of this encouragement and -appreciation, bestowed three years ago, would have saved this -‘valuable public servant,’ whose loss they deplore so feelingly, to -the public service, for he would have stayed in India, and persevered -in trying for a better post, instead of taking this as a -forlorn-hope.” -</p> - -<p> -“And then we should never have met!” said Cecil. “Well, Lady Haigh, I -am sorry if you are.” -</p> - -<p> -To which no answer could be made, and Lady Haigh ceased her -lamentations. But time was passing on, and still there came no news -from Charlie, with the exception of one telegram announcing his safe -arrival in England. Things were becoming more and more mysterious. Why -should four telegrams alone, all addressed to Sir Dugald, arrive out -of all the missives which it was tolerably certain Charlie had sent -off? Cecil felt sure that he could never have received her letters -without answering them; what, then, had become of the answers? It was -not until Christmas-time that the mystery was solved. Cecil was at the -Residency as usual, and when the mail came in she looked eagerly to -see whether there were any letters for her. Again she was -disappointed; there was only one, and this was a bulky epistle from -her stepmother. The appearance of the letter was characteristic of the -writer. The many closely-written sheets were stuffed into a thin -envelope much too small for them, and this had naturally resented such -treatment by giving way, in consequence of which it had been “found -open, and officially sealed.” The direction was blotted and irregular, -and had evidently been written in a violent hurry; and the stamp, -which was upside down, was of double the proper value. Cecil laughed -at the appearance of the envelope, and mentally pictured little Mrs -Anstruther writing in feverish haste to catch the mail, and scrambling -the letter into the post just in time. As usual, the first page was -dated about a fortnight earlier than the last, and Cecil hurried on to -the end. Here at last was the news for which she had been longing. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, my dear Cecil,” wrote Mrs Anstruther, “we have had such a -delightful surprise. Your friend Dr Egerton came to see us yesterday, -and we talked about you for hours and hours. Your father and I are -greatly pleased with him, and the little children love him already. He -is staying at the Imperial Hotel, and his aunt is there too, but she -has not her health here, and I don’t think this place suits her. They -seem very well off, and Fitz says that one of the boys at the school -told him that Dr Egerton has really an immensity of money, for it has -been accumulating for him ever since he has been in the East. But, -dear childie, why don’t you write to him? Indeed, indeed, I think you -are not treating him well. He says he has never had one single line -from you, though he has written to you every week. It is not kind of -you, and we were so greatly astonished to hear it that we couldn’t -think of any excuses for you. Sure the poor boy”—these four words -were scratched out, for Mrs Anstruther flattered herself that both her -literary style and her accent were extremely English—“Poor Dr Egerton -is deeply in love with you, but he said himself he could not -understand it. Indeed he was in a great state lest something had -happened to you, but we were able to reassure him about that——” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil read thus far, and then looked up with a horrified face. -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Haigh!” she gasped, “every one of my letters has missed, as well -as Charlie’s. What can it be?” -</p> - -<p> -“Impossible, my dear!” cried Lady Haigh, briskly. “You must have -mistaken what he says. Is his letter from home?” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t from him even now,” said Cecil. “It’s from Mrs Anstruther. -There must have been some dreadful mistake, and what can we do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think this concerns you rather than myself, Miss Anstruther,” said -Sir Dugald, coming into the room. “I hope I haven’t read much of it, -but I really did not see at first that the letter which I was desired -under such fearful penalties to deliver to you was on the same sheet -as my own.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out a letter in Charlie’s writing, which Cecil almost snatched -from his hand. As he said, the first page was occupied by an earnest -request to him to give the letter into Miss Anstruther’s own hands, as -the writer could not help thinking that there had been foul play -hitherto with regard to their correspondence. The other three pages -contained the letter proper, closely written, and overflowing with -passionate anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -“My darling,” Charlie concluded, “I am certain there must be something -wrong, or you would never have left me without a line all these -months. I heard from D’Silva the other day that that fellow Karalampi -had been at the Residency a good deal lately, and I should not wonder -if he had something to do with it. I do entreat you not on any account -to trust him in the very smallest matter. The man is capable of -anything. I am consumed with anxiety about you. I was talking -yesterday about going out at once to see you and find out what was the -matter, but your father said I should only bring you into trouble, and -entreated me not to think of such a thing. Dearest, you know I would -do anything rather than get you into trouble; but if I can be of the -very smallest help or use to you, let me have a wire, and I will start -at an hour’s notice. Only write, my darling, or I shall go mad.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil dropped the letter with a groan, which attracted the attention -of Sir Dugald, who had considerately been discussing his own letters -with Lady Haigh while she read it. -</p> - -<p> -“Anything wrong, Miss Anstruther?” he asked, kindly. -</p> - -<p> -“Our letters!” groaned Cecil, “his and mine. Neither of us has ever -received one of them, and we have both written once a-week.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is serious indeed,” said Sir Dugald. “About sixty letters -altogether, and spread over more than six months! Well, it is quite -evident what has happened, though I confess I should scarcely have -thought the game worth the candle in this case. They have been -tampering with the mail-bags again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tampering—who?” cried Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Interested parties, I presume,” said Sir Dugald, drily. “Some -post-office clerk who is learning English and likes to study it by -means of other people’s letters, possibly, but I should scarcely think -so. It’s an old trick, and they have tried it several times here, but -not just lately.” -</p> - -<p> -“But can you get the letters back?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Scarcely, I’m afraid. They would be much too compromising to be -allowed to remain in the thief’s possession. No; but we may be able to -stop the robberies in future. I will communicate with Constantinople -at once, and set the Embassy to work. Shall we make the abstraction of -your love-letters a <i>casus belli</i>, Miss Anstruther?” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t a laughing matter to me,” said Cecil, dolefully. -</p> - -<p> -“No, nor to poor Egerton either,” said Sir Dugald. “It was a most -happy thing that he thought of writing to you under cover to me, or we -might never have found out how the trick was worked. You see they have -simply suppressed all Egerton’s letters to you, and all yours directed -to him. Your home letters have arrived as usual, have they not? I -thought so. Well, suppose you set Egerton’s mind at rest by -telegraphing him a Christmas message at once. I think I can guarantee -that it won’t go astray from here.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil accepted gratefully Sir Dugald’s suggestion, and despatched a -sufficiently lengthy message. This done, she had leisure to think over -the strange fate of her letters. She could not doubt that their -disappearance had been arranged by the same hand that had contrived -Charlie’s removal from Baghdad, and yet it seemed scarcely likely that -Azim Bey would have thought of such a thing. Charlie’s suggestion as -to M. Karalampi she scouted at once, for what motive could he have for -abstracting her letters, even though he had an old grudge against her, -and no liking for Charlie? But M. Karalampi was destined to be brought -to her mind once again that evening, when she went to have tea with -Mrs Hagopidan, of whom she had seen but little of late. -</p> - -<p> -“So I hear you have set up another admirer, Cecil?” said the hostess, -when she had inquired and heard the latest news from Whitcliffe. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what you mean, Myrta,” said Cecil, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear girl, you must have noticed that M. Karalampi does you the -honour to admire you. Of course it’s impossible that you could have -the bad taste not to admire him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think you forget that I am engaged,” said Cecil, in her stateliest -manner. -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all, dear, nor does he. He only thinks that it is a merciful -dispensation of Providence which has removed Dr Egerton from Baghdad -and left the way clear for him. They didn’t love each other, those -two. Really, Cecil, I could have danced at times to see Dr Egerton -freeze him with a look, and to behold the murderous glances M. -Karalampi bestowed upon him behind his back. He daren’t have looked at -you then,—it would have been as much as his life was worth,—but now -he has a fair field. How do you like him, dear?” -</p> - -<p> -“Myrta, you know that if there is a person I detest, it’s that man. I -wish you would not make up these things about him. I don’t like it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I am perfectly in earnest, I assure you—much more so than he is. -Of course he only intends a flirtation, just to pass the time, for he -has a wife somewhere. Some people say he has a wife in a good many -places, but no doubt that is merely scandal. But seriously, Cecil, the -creature has the conceit to believe that now that Dr Egerton is safely -out of the way, his own charms will prove irresistible. I believe he -has a bet with young Vogorides on the subject. His sister, Arghiro, -let something drop about it when she was here yesterday, and I thought -I would give you warning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, Myrta. I don’t think M. Karalampi will make any more bets -about me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you won’t make a scene, Cecil?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think I am likely to want the world to know how M. Karalampi -thinks of me,” said Cecil, as she rose to go, and her hostess could -learn no more from her. Nor, to her great disappointment, did she ever -succeed in finding out the exact results of her warning. Whether Cecil -snubbed M. Karalampi in public, or administered a few home-truths to -him in private, Mrs Hagopidan never knew, but M. Karalampi’s visits to -the Residency became once more few and far between, and Arghiro -Vogorides let slip that her brother had won his bet, but could not get -the money paid. That was all, and Cecil went on her way satisfied, and -unconscious that her own name was added, deeply underlined, to the -long list in M. Karalampi’s black-books. In this list there were to be -found already all the names of those from whom he had received -slights, or against whom he had conceived a grudge, and also of some -of those whom he had injured, and therefore found it impossible to -forgive. In which category the Pasha’s name appeared it would be -difficult to say,—possibly in all three,—but both that of the -Um-ul-Pasha and that of Azim Bey might have been found in the first. -Most of M. Karalampi’s employers were in his black-books, and it was -one of the chief beauties of his peculiar method of working that he -was able to play them off one against another, and to punish them all -in the course of business. -</p> - -<p> -The account against Azim Bey was allowed to stand over for a while -just now. By way of making himself agreeable to all parties, M. -Karalampi had done what the Bey wanted, and succeeded in banishing -Charlie from Baghdad. He had even improved upon his instructions by -arranging for the abstraction of the letters, a master-stroke which -delighted Azim Bey when it was communicated to him; but now he -returned to his former employers, whose interests were by no means -identical with those of Cecil’s pupil. The Um-ul-Pasha was once more -embarked on a plot in favour of her eldest grandson, but this time M. -Karalampi held the threads in his own hands, and the result bade fair -to be a work of art. The old vulgar methods of secret assassination, -which had been attempted in vain two years before, were decisively -dropped, and M. Karalampi luxuriated in the employment of moral -suasion alone. He could set strings in motion at Constantinople which -would ensure the Pasha’s ruin if needful, and it was on this fact that -he relied. At the proper moment the question would be put before him, -and he must choose between disgrace and dishonour. Unless he broke his -promise to Azim Bey’s dead mother, and made the outlawed Hussein Bey -his heir, the intriguers who surrounded the Padishah would bring about -his downfall. In either case M. Karalampi would be happy and -victorious. Already he was gloating in anticipation over the thought -of his triumph, already he imagined himself fingering the reward of -his unrighteousness, when a single unlooked-for event dashed all his -plans to the ground. -</p> - -<p> -After spending some time comparatively quietly in the hills, Hussein -Bey had recommenced his raids into the low country, and his practice -of exacting blackmail from travellers. Attacking one day a rich -caravan which had crossed the mountains in safety from Persia, he met -with an unexpected resistance, which was speedily accounted for by the -arrival of a body of the Pasha’s troops, who had been on the march -from one town to another, and to whom the merchants had sent a swift -messenger imploring help. The robber band was hopelessly outnumbered -by the combined forces of the troops and the armed servants of the -travellers, and a short conflict ended in the death of Hussein Bey and -the utter defeat of his followers. In this way Ahmed Khémi Pasha was -freed from the son who had for so long been a thorn in his side, and -the Bey’s mother and grandmother and their fellow-plotters were left -without an object for their schemes. All their arrangements were -useless, and they recognised this fact after a good deal of mutual -recrimination on the subject of the delay which had occurred. It was -undeniable that Hussein Bey’s death had been so utterly unexpected -that the wisest head could not have arranged the <i>dénoûment</i> of the -plot in time, and nothing more could be done. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch21"> -CHAPTER XXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">CONFEDERATES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">After</span> this, things went on quietly enough until it was a year and a -half since Charlie had left Baghdad. Only a year now remained of -Cecil’s stay at the Palace, and Azim Bey was growing so tall and manly -that she felt it was quite time he should soon leave her care. He was -just fourteen and a half, but looked much older than his age, and he -had made wonderful progress in his studies. He was an excellent talker -and a most agreeable companion, with a wide theoretical acquaintance -with modern political and social problems, and a deep practical -knowledge of Eastern ways of settling them. There was something -uncanny in such shrewdness in a boy of his age, and fond though Cecil -was of him, she could now never quite trust him. The subject of -Charlie had not again been mentioned between them, although Cecil -sometimes felt curious to know whether her pupil had got over his -childish dislike. Since the discovery of the fate of their first six -months’ letters, she and Charlie had corresponded with more success, -owing to the precautions they had adopted. Charlie’s letters were -addressed to Sir Dugald at the Residency, and Cecil posted hers there -after Sir Dugald had written the address. The abstraction of the -earlier epistles had been traced to an Armenian post-office clerk who -had died in the interval between the discovery of the theft and the -investigation subsequently made into it, and although for this reason -no punishment could be inflicted, the desires of any who might be -anxious to tread in the offender’s footsteps were frustrated. Whatever -the suspicions of the would-be thieves might be, they dared not stop a -letter addressed by or to the Balio Bey himself. -</p> - -<p> -There were other ways of getting news, notably by means of letters -concealed in parcels, or brought by friends from England, and it was -by the former means that Cecil received the season’s greetings on the -occasion of her fourth Christmas in Baghdad. A great box was sent out -from Whitcliffe to Mrs Yehudi, containing presents for the -school-children’s Christmas-tree, and among the presents was a letter -for Cecil, very carefully and cunningly hidden. She tore it open -eagerly, wondering why it should be sent with such special care, but -found nothing of any unusual importance until she came to the last -paragraph, which filled her with a vague dread. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t feel as though I should be able to stay quiet in England all -next year. The travel-spirit is coming upon me again, and drawing me -Eastward ho! Perhaps it is not only that, but the longing to see some -one in Baghdad, which is drawing me—at any rate, if you don’t hear -from me for a time, you can imagine me anywhere between Beyrout and -Karachi, or between Resht and Aden. But perhaps I shall see you, my -dearest girl, without your knowing it. I wouldn’t get you into trouble -for the world, but I would do anything short of that just to see you -for a moment. I should feel happier about you, and know that that -abominable child had not quite worn you out. Don’t look out for me, -for it’s no good. If I come, you won’t know it, but I will tell you -about it afterwards, and we will laugh over it together.” -</p> - -<p> -What could Charlie be intending to do? Surely he could not mean to try -and enter Baghdad again, in the face of the danger he had scarcely -escaped, but what else did his words signify? He must be only joking, -trying to make her look out for him, for the foolishness of an attempt -to return to the city must be patent even to his mind. There was no -need to be alarmed, nor to frighten Lady Haigh; but Cecil did not feel -happy until she had written a long letter scolding Charlie for his mad -project, and forbidding him to undertake it. Unhappily, before the -letter reached England, Charlie had started for the East, but Cecil -was not in a position to know this, as will presently appear. -</p> - -<p> -When Hussein Bey died, it seemed as though the Pasha’s family troubles -were over, for a time at least, and he looked forward hopefully to a -year of domestic peace. Now that she had no one for whom to plot, it -was probable that his mother would soon tire of maintaining an -irreconcilable attitude, and consent to offer terms of accommodation. -The only cloud on the horizon was caused by the behaviour of Jamileh -Khanum, who had now a little son of her own, a fact which produced -exactly the result which Azim Bey had foreseen long ago. For her boy’s -sake, Jamileh Khanum was frantically jealous of his elder brother, and -every sign of favour bestowed by the Pasha on Azim Bey, every expense -incurred on his account, furnished her with a text for a passionate -attack on her husband. For months she teased him at every available -opportunity to procure a French governess for little Najib Bey, but in -vain. The Pasha had had some experience of the difficulty of keeping -the peace between dependents of different European nationalities, and -he had no desire that the tranquillity of the Palace should be -disturbed by the mutual jealousies and patriotic squabbles of Mdlle. -Antaza and any French lady. Jamileh Khanum might have an English nurse -for the baby if she liked, and as soon as he was old enough he might -share Azim Bey’s lessons with Mdlle. Antaza. But both these offers -were scouted by the indignant mother. Her boy to share the -instructions of that insolent Englishwoman, in company with the son of -that wild Arab creature (might her bones not rest in peace!)—never! -Rather should he grow up ignorant, a living monument of his father’s -parsimony and injustice. She had a good deal more to say on the -subject, and was proceeding to say it, when her husband, fortunately -for himself, was called away. -</p> - -<p> -Much worried by this fresh piece of trouble, Ahmed Khémi Pasha lent a -ready ear to a message which reached him shortly before the great -Turkish festival of Moharram Ghün. His mother sent to say that she -was now advanced in years, a poor widow bereft of her best-beloved -grandson, and she wished to be reconciled at the festival to the -surviving members of her family. The Um-ul-Pasha was given to these -reconciliations, which were generally as shortlived as they were -sudden, but her son was touched by the terms of her message, and -prepared to meet her half-way. Accordingly he went to see her in the -most filial manner possible, was received with all due honour and -affection, and invited to partake of coffee and sweetmeats. During -this repast his mother electrified him still further by expressing a -desire for reconciliation also with Azim Bey. The Pasha caught eagerly -at the idea, for he was well aware of the scandal caused in the city -by his divided house, and he proposed to fetch his son at once to pay -his respects to his grandmother. But the Um-ul-Pasha was not inclined -to be in such a hurry. She had a condition to make before she would -consent to a reconciliation, and she brought it forward at once. It -was nothing less than a plain demand for Mdlle. Antaza’s dismissal. -</p> - -<p> -Without giving her son time to express his astonishment or his dismay, -the old lady hurried on to give the reasons for her request. The -presence of the Frangi woman in the Palace was a direct insult to -herself, since she had always opposed her coming; her very position in -the household was a scandal, for she was technically in the harem, and -yet could visit her European friends when she liked. Moreover, Mdlle. -Antaza had conducted herself most insolently towards the Um-ul-Pasha -during the whole of her stay in Baghdad, had refused the husband -graciously recommended to her, and had calmly ignored the great lady’s -existence ever since. This sounded so very plausible when the little -episode of the attempted poisoning was forgotten, that the Um-ul-Pasha -paused to admire her own eloquence, but hurried on again when she -perceived that her son was about to speak. She had kept her chief -argument until last, and now produced it with obvious pride. To -dismiss mademoiselle at once would be a great saving of expense. If -she remained a year longer, her five years’ engagement would have been -fulfilled, and she would become entitled to the bonus promised on its -termination, while if she were sent away now for misconduct, this -extra sum would be saved. -</p> - -<p> -“But there is no misconduct. What charge have you against her?” asked -the Pasha, blankly. -</p> - -<p> -“Invent one. There’s nothing so easy,” replied his mother, instantly. -“Karalampi——” she perceived her mistake, and hastily altered the -form of the sentence. “I know of a person who will arrange everything, -and support it by unimpeachable evidence.” -</p> - -<p> -The Pasha sat and pondered the matter deeply, while his mother went on -to declare that the Frangi woman had ruined Azim Bey. She had made him -into an Englishman, and there was nothing of a Turk left about him. -Thus she ran on, with great richness of language and illustration, -while the Pasha slowly made up his mind. It was no sentiment of -chivalry for a woman fighting the battle of life alone in a foreign -country that influenced him finally, but rather a prudent feeling of -reluctance to part with a valuable dependent as the price of a -reconciliation which could not, in all probability, last more than a -month. Then there was the matter of economy. To escape the necessity -of paying the bonus would certainly be a saving, but would it be -possible to get up an accusation of misconduct which could really be -sustained? He had a very clear impression, springing from what he knew -of the absolute blamelessness of Cecil’s behaviour during her life in -the harem, that it would not. To bring such an accusation, and then to -fail to substantiate it, would be nothing short of ruinous. He thought -apprehensively of the Courts, of the impression in England, where he -desired to stand well in public opinion, and he thought above all -things of the Balio Bey. Sir Dugald was certainly given to counselling -economy, but it was scarcely to be expected that he would approve this -particular way of exercising it, while he would be certain to resent -fiercely any charge made against Mdlle. Antaza, an Englishwoman and -his wife’s friend, and when he was officially angry he could be very -terrible indeed. It was this thought which decided the Pasha at last. -He could not face the Balio Bey in such a case, with the knowledge of -a trumped-up slander on his conscience, and he felt shrewdly that in -maintaining his position and carrying on his Government Sir Dugald’s -countenance and approval was of more vital consequence than his -mother’s. This he told her, as delicately as he could, and then -quitted her presence, after a few vain attempts to soften her -resentment, which was loud and voluble. Had he guessed what her next -step would be, it is possible that he might have yielded abjectly even -then, but he departed unconscious of what was in store for him in the -immediate future. -</p> - -<p> -It would, indeed, have taken a shrewd observer of human nature to -forecast the Um-ul-Pasha’s next move. Having failed to secure her end, -she wasted no time in negotiations, but threw herself into the arms, -figuratively speaking, of Jamileh Khanum, with whom she had been at -daggers drawn ever since the young wife had entered the harem. Angry -with her husband and jealous for her boy, Jamileh Khanum displayed no -inclination to stand upon ceremony when she saw the prospect of -gaining such a powerful ally, and the reconciliation was sealed over -the sleeping form of little Najib Bey, upon whom his grandmother -lavished all the vituperative epithets that occurred to her, for the -purpose of averting the evil-eye. Before the evening of that day -mother and grandmother had united in a league against Azim Bey. The -son of the Hajar woman was to be displaced at any cost, and before -another day was over, M. Karalampi had been informed that his services -were retained on behalf of this new claimant to the rights of Hussein -Bey. -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, from the ladies’ point of view, the negotiations which -had so nearly been crowned with success in the former case had been -allowed entirely to fall through, and a change in the Padishah’s -<i>entourage</i> had removed the persons on whose help M. Karalampi had -relied. It was necessary to begin the work all over again, and to set -about it in a different way, but M. Karalampi still contrived to keep -himself in the background, while all that the distracted Pasha knew -was that his mother and his favourite wife were now bosom friends, and -that this boded mischief to his elder son. He could act decisively -enough, however, when the issue was a clear one, and he took his -measures at once. Azim Bey should accompany him on the progress he was -about to make through the country inhabited by the Kurdish tribes, in -order to keep him out of harm’s way, and Jamileh Khanum should come -also, that she and the Um-ul-Pasha might not have the opportunity of -weaving their plots together in his absence. The plan was no sooner -decided upon than it was put into execution. As before, Cecil and Azim -Bey, with their attendants, received orders to start first, spending a -few days at Said Bey’s house at Hillah, where the Pasha’s great -cavalcade would pick them up. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil heard this news with dismay. It seemed to her that everything -depended upon her being at Baghdad, in case Charlie really carried out -his foolhardy plan, for if she saw him she might succeed in turning -him back at the threshold of his adventure. But Lady Haigh, who knew -that the last two summers in Baghdad had tried her very much, was -delighted that this one should be passed in the cooler atmosphere of -the Kurdish uplands, and commended the Pasha’s wisdom. Cecil said -nothing to her of the reason she had for wishing to remain in the -city. On the one side was the possibility of endangering Charlie by -attracting attention to him should he really enter the country; on the -other, the fear of lowering him in Sir Dugald’s eyes by revealing the -foolishness to which the Balio Bey would grant no quarter. In spite of -his kindness, Cecil resented extremely the contemptuous light in which -Sir Dugald continued to regard Charlie, and she was resolved not to -give him the chance of thinking him more reckless than he was, in case -he decided to forego his scheme. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose it isn’t possible for a European traveller to come into the -pashalik without your knowing it?” she said to Sir Dugald the evening -before her departure, with a desire to make everything sure. -</p> - -<p> -“Scarcely,” said Sir Dugald. “They seem invariably to begin their -wanderings by getting into trouble with the Turks, and then they write -to me to help them out. No vice-consul will do for them, however near -at hand—it must be the Consul-General or no one.” -</p> - -<p> -“But suppose they didn’t wish to make themselves prominent, and -managed not to get into trouble—in fact, came into the country quite -quietly, and did their best to remain unnoticed?” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I should hear of them rather sooner than in the other case,” -said Sir Dugald. “English travellers who didn’t bluster or bully the -natives would be such a phenomenon that both the Pasha and I should be -simply inundated with full, true, and particular accounts of them. It -would be evident to the Turkish mind that they were come for no good, -and were probably either spies or on the look-out for hidden -treasures.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if they were in disguise?” suggested Cecil, bringing forward -reluctantly her true fear. Sir Dugald laughed heartily. -</p> - -<p> -“That would be the quickest thing of all,” he said. “An Englishman -trying to pass for a native would be spotted immediately. I have known -of several cases, and the people take a perverse delight in finding -them out. In fact, it’s an infallible means of proclaiming your -nationality and attracting attention to pretend to be an oriental. If -a man is such a fool as to try it, every person he meets becomes a spy -on him at once. It’s natural, of course, for they are afraid he might -try to profane their holy places.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if you heard of any one who was trying to pass as a native, what -would you do?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Frighten him out of the country if possible, and if not have him here -and reason him out,” said Sir Dugald. “In his character as a native he -couldn’t venture to resist me, and if he dropped it he would be afraid -of his life. I can’t have irresponsible fools coming here and stirring -up the fanatics to attempt outrages.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was a little comforted by the sense of Sir Dugald’s power which -this conversation gave her, and she left Baghdad cheered by the -conviction that if Charlie did venture into Turkish Arabia, he would -be obliged to quit it very quickly, and with no undue courtesy -lavished upon him. In the absence of her own persuasive reasoning, she -had considerable faith in Sir Dugald’s certain use of <i>force majeure</i>, -and he guessed the real source of her anxiety, and smiled grimly as he -promised himself that her confidence in him should be fully justified -if it was necessary. -</p> - -<p> -At Hillah Naimeh Khanum received Cecil with open arms. They had not -met since Cecil’s visit to the place in the summer of the riot, -although Azim Bey had ridden over several times with his father for a -short stay. In some way or other Naimeh Khanum had obtained an inkling -of her brother’s hatred for Charlie Egerton and its cause, and in the -only long conversation she held with Cecil they talked the matter -over. Naimeh Khanum had been speaking of Azim Bey’s improvement in -appearance and in health, and of the pleasure his progress in his -studies gave to the Pasha, and Cecil in return confessed her -disappointment with respect to the moral side of his nature. -</p> - -<p> -“But what do you expect?” asked Naimeh Khanum. “Why should he -sacrifice his own wishes for your pleasure? What is there in our -religion to teach him to deny himself? He is a man, a true -believer—what can the happiness of a woman, a Giaour, signify to -him?” -</p> - -<p> -“But one might hope,” said Cecil, rather hesitatingly, “that some -measure of Christian influence might reach him from all he has read, -even without direct teaching.” -</p> - -<p> -Naimeh Khanum shook her head. “You forget the strength of the -influences at work in the opposite direction,” she said. “As it is, -you have made my brother wiser, more polished, more European, but his -character is unchanged. He will take all you can give him, and wear it -like a cloak, covering his Eastern nature with it, but he will remain -a Turk underneath all the same. His ideals, his views of women, are -the same as my father’s—they are not yours. You cannot Europeanise -Turkey from the outside.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you, Khanum?” asked Cecil, “do you still feel as you did?” -</p> - -<p> -“The same. I have read your book, and its words are good words, but I -have too much to give up. But I must not talk to you about this, -mademoiselle. My husband found me reading the book, and he would have -taken it away if I had not promised him never to speak about it to any -one, especially to you. Ah, mademoiselle, if your people want to make -us good and happy, they must teach the women as well as the men, and -begin at the heart with both.” -</p> - -<p> -And Cecil could gain no more from her, the rather as they had very -little time for private conversation. Azim Bey’s lessons were going on -just as if they were still at Baghdad, and Said Bey displayed a -disposition to keep his wife from having much to say to the Frangi -woman. Moreover, there were some English people at Hillah just now who -had come out for the purpose of making excavations among the ruins of -Babylon, and had spent much time in measuring and surveying once again -the mighty mounds. The work of exploration, carried on throughout the -pleasant spring days, was now over for the season, and Professor -Howard White and his wife were about to leave Hillah before the summer -heat came on, and to return to Baghdad preparatory to sailing for -home, but for the moment their path crossed Cecil’s on her way to the -Kurdish hills. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs Howard White had lived at Whitcliffe before her marriage, and had -been a member of Mr Anstruther’s congregation, and when on a visit to -her family, just before starting for Babylonia, she had met Charlie at -St Barnabas’ Vicarage, and all these were reasons which made Cecil -very desirous of seeing her. It seemed as though Azim Bey guessed -this, for he hung about his governess persistently when Mrs Howard -White came to call, and anything approaching confidential talk was out -of the question. But the professor’s wife read rightly the entreaty in -Cecil’s eyes, and an invitation to tea on the last evening of their -stay at Hillah gladdened the hearts of both pupil and governess. Azim -Bey was eager to inspect Professor Howard White’s instruments, of -which he had heard wonderful tales from his brother-in-law, and Cecil, -counting upon his insatiable curiosity to keep him safely in the study -for a time, away from her, was tremblingly anxious for a little -private conversation with her hostess. It was just possible that she -might be able to set her heart at rest by assuring her that Charlie -had given up his foolhardy plan. To know for certain that he was -safely at home in England, absorbed in the repairs of his house and -the business of his estate, Cecil felt that she would go through fire -and water. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch22"> -CHAPTER XXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Much</span> as Cecil was troubled on Charlie’s account, her worries were -not all to be laid to his charge, for the near approach of the journey -seemed to have unsettled Azim Bey, and during his last day of lessons -he contrived to test his governess’s patience sorely. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think we need do lessons to-day, mademoiselle,” he said that -morning. -</p> - -<p> -“Why not?” said Cecil. “Come, Bey, here is this new book on Ethics. We -will read it together, and I will set you questions on each chapter.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am lazy this morning, mademoiselle, I do not want to work. That -<i>fête</i> yesterday was so unutterably tiresome that I went to sleep. I -know I did, because the gold-lace on the sleeve of Said Bey’s uniform -left a mark upon my face. When I was there, I longed to be in this -room reading, yet now that my desire is granted, I don’t wish to -read.” -</p> - -<p> -“There is not much use in reading only when you care to do it,” said -Cecil, severely. “It will be a useful mental discipline for you to do -a good morning’s work.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think that kind of discipline is good, mademoiselle?—doing -things one does not like, I mean. Because, if it is, one ought to see -that other people have plenty of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“They will generally have plenty of it without your providing it for -them,” said Cecil, sighing to think how much discipline of the kind -her pupil had provided for her already. “You had much better try to -make people happier, and leave such discipline alone, except in your -own case.” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey shook his head. “That would not suit me, mademoiselle. For -me, I wish to make people better, and I consider myself peculiarly -fitted to see that they undergo the necessary discipline.” -</p> - -<p> -“I consider you peculiarly conceited,” said Cecil, “and I am afraid a -great deal of mental discipline will be needed in your case, Bey. But -we are wasting time in this discussion. Let us begin.” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey took the book and settled down to a quarter of an hour’s -steady reading, then looked up, yawned, and showed a disposition to -enter on an argument with regard to a point which he and Cecil had -often discussed before. Cecil declined rather sharply to begin a fresh -controversy, and her pupil returned to his book, only to leave it -again in a minute or two. Thus things went on all the morning, -affording practical proof that yesterday’s dissipation had not agreed -with Azim Bey; and it was the same in the afternoon, when it was time -to go to the Howard Whites’. The house they had occupied was already -beginning to look dismantled, but the little drawing-room in which the -hostess received her guests was still gay with native embroideries and -decorated with quaint pieces of pottery and odds and ends of Assyrian -sculpture. The usual sitting-room, however, was the vine-shaded -terrace, and here Mrs Howard White retired with Cecil, despatching -Azim Bey to the study to enjoy himself. -</p> - -<p> -But, unfortunately, Professor Howard White had been obliged to ride -out to the mounds with Said Bey, on account of an accusation which had -been brought against him of desecrating a native cemetery in their -vicinity in the course of his observations, and Azim Bey, disdaining -the services of the meek Syrian assistant who offered to show him the -instruments, came and sat down on the terrace with Cecil and her -hostess and interrupted their talk. It was impossible to speak of -Charlie and of Whitcliffe in his presence, and an awkward silence, -broken by spasmodic attempts at conversation, fell on the three. It -was a relief when one of the servants appeared and told Mrs Howard -White that there was a man selling European cutlery and needles in the -courtyard, asking whether she would like to have him brought in. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, if you please, madame, let him come in,” entreated Azim Bey, his -usual vivacity returning. “Mademoiselle lost her scissors yesterday, -and I have broken my knife, and I want a new one. May the pedlar come -in?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, certainly. Bring the man in, Habib,” said Mrs Howard White to the -servant, and she moved towards the verandah, where there was a table. -Presently the pedlar entered, escorted in by two or three of the -servants, and by an assistant of his own, who helped to carry his -boxes. The two men were in Armenian costume, with high black caps, -which marked them as coming from Persia, and they spoke Arabic with -the peculiar Persian intonation. When their boxes were opened, the -stock-in-trade displayed was so extensive that Azim Bey went into -raptures, and his delight even blinded him to the combination of the -two obnoxious nationalities, the hated Persian and the despised -Armenian, in the persons of the traders. Not less attracted were Um -Yusuf and the rest of the women, and while Azim Bey chatted eagerly to -the pedlar’s servant over the array of pocket-knives, they gathered -round the other box and coveted endless pairs of scissors. -</p> - -<p> -“See, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, taking up a fanciful little -needlecase in the shape of a butterfly, “this is a pretty thing. Why -not Azim Bey buy it for Basmeh Kalfa? Look, it open, like this.” -</p> - -<p> -“Stay, O my mistress,” interrupted the pedlar; “why shouldest thou -spoil my wares? Let thy lady hold it, and I will show her how to open -it.” -</p> - -<p> -Um Yusuf put the case into Cecil’s hands, and the vendor raised the -flap to show the needles inside. As he did so, his hands met Cecil’s -with a peculiar pressure. Startled, she looked into his eyes, and in -spite of dyed skin, shaven hair and moustache, recognised Charlie in -the Armenian pedlar. The shock was overpowering, and she dropped -helplessly on the divan, too much astonished even to cry out. A deadly -faintness was stealing over her, the figures around seemed to be -whirling in a rainbow-coloured mist, but two words from Charlie -brought her back to her senses. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t faint,” he said, sternly, yet in such a low voice that she -alone heard it, and she recalled her wandering wits and rose slowly -from the seat where she had sunk down. With trembling hands she turned -over the pedlar’s stock, and commented on it with lips quivering with -agitation. It was a tremendous effort, but she was nerved to it by the -sound of Azim Bey’s voice at the other end of the verandah. -</p> - -<p> -“You see I remembered what you said, and came as a Christian this -time,” said Charlie, in a hurried whisper, while he held up a pair of -scissors for her inspection. Cecil gave him a look of agony. She dared -not speak to him, dared not even let him touch her hand again, and it -was misery that they should be so close and yet so widely separated. -It was almost a relief when Azim Bey came to complete his purchases by -buying a pair of scissors for old Ayesha, for even Charlie would not -venture to address her when her pupil was so near. Again the thought -of his danger made her turn sick and faint, and she sat down on the -divan and listened to the details of the bargaining as though in a -dream. At last Azim Bey had chosen all he wanted, the money was paid -down, and Mrs Howard White told the servant to show the pedlar out. -Cecil breathed freely once more. She had not heard the words which -Azim Bey whispered to the negro lad who was officially known as his -slipper-bearer. -</p> - -<p> -“Keep those men in sight, and bring me word of whatever they do. If -they leave the town without my hearing of it, it shall be upon thy -head.” -</p> - -<p> -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” said the boy, and departed; while -Cecil, unsuspecting, though sick at heart and racked with anxiety, -accompanied her pupil back to the house of Said Bey. -</p> - -<p class="spacer"> -* * * * * * * -</p> - -<p> -“O, my mistress, here is the Christian pedlar again,” said Habib to -Mrs Howard White early the next morning. -</p> - -<p> -“Bring him in,” said the lady, with evident displeasure; and as soon -as the order had been obeyed, and Habib was gone, she turned on -Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Dr Egerton, I hope you are satisfied. You have given poor Miss -Anstruther a terrible fright, and probably made her miserable for -weeks; and you ought to be now on your way to Baghdad, where, you -assured me, you would go as soon as you had caught a glimpse of her.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I am not going to Baghdad,” said Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Then I shall simply write to Sir Dugald Haigh and tell him -everything,” said Mrs Howard White, angrily. -</p> - -<p> -“Listen to me a moment,” said Charlie. “I was fully intending to start -at sunrise this very morning; but last night I was talking to some of -Said Bey’s servants, and I hear that the Pasha is to be accompanied on -this journey by Karalampi, the Greek of whom I have told you. I -cannot, and will not, leave Miss Anstruther exposed to his -machinations.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is absurd,” said Mrs Howard White. “Miss Anstruther has -succeeded in taking very good care of herself since you left Baghdad, -and I should say that she was quite able to do so still. I call it -arrant selfishness to keep her tormented with anxiety about you by -following the Pasha’s camp, where you can do no good, and may get -yourself and her into great trouble. As for saying that it is done on -her account, you know that it is simply for an adventure—a lark.” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t really, on my word of honour,” said Charlie, quickly. “I -promise you, Mrs Howard White, Cecil shan’t see anything of me, and, -unless she is in danger, shall never even know that I am near her. I -have got permission to follow the Pasha’s caravan—it is quite -natural; lots of traders and people are going to do it—for the sake -of protection through the mountains, and I shall be among the riffraff -at the very end of the procession, while she is among the grandees in -front. She will never even hear of me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then what good can you do?” asked Mrs Howard White. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know—just be near in case she needs help, I suppose.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are a very foolish young man,” said the lady, with severity; “and -why you should want to help her when she doesn’t need any help, I -don’t know. I suppose you will go, since you are set upon it; but -remember that I disapprove entirely of the whole thing, and that I -would never have helped you to meet her here if I had guessed what you -would do.” -</p> - -<p> -Charlie laughed, and took leave of his hostess to prepare his mules -for the journey, all unconscious of the fact that at that moment he -was the subject of a conversation between Azim Bey and M. -Karalampi—the latter having just arrived in the train of the Pasha. -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you, monsieur, he is here!” cried the boy in a frenzy. “I saw -him myself, and mademoiselle recognised him. He and his servant are -disguised as Armenians from Julfa, and they are selling knives and -scissors. I have set the boy Ishak to watch them, and he tells me that -they have gained permission to attach themselves to our caravan in -traversing the mountains.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah! With the knowledge of mademoiselle?” asked M. Karalampi. -</p> - -<p> -“No; I am convinced she knows nothing of this. I believe she imagines -that he is returning at once to Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“So much the better. And what are your wishes, Bey Effendi?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should like,” said Azim Bey, slowly, as though gloating over each -word—“I should like him to be carried off secretly and kept a -prisoner until after mademoiselle’s five years here are over, and she -has entered into a new agreement to remain. If she heard nothing of -him, she might forget him and be willing to stay with us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excellent, Bey Effendi! May I suggest that this time Dr Egerton -should not be intrusted to your friends the Hajar, with whose language -and customs he is well acquainted? If I am right, you do not wish that -this imprisonment should be made too pleasant for him. You desire -something more than mere safekeeping?” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey nodded. M. Karalampi went on, watching his face keenly. -</p> - -<p> -“The Kurds would suit your purpose much better, Bey Effendi. They have -hiding-places and strongholds in the hills which the Padishah’s whole -army could not discover, and they do not love Christians. They might -be relied upon to keep Dr Egerton so safely that even the Balio Bey -should never hear of him.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is what I want,” cried Azim Bey, eagerly. “Let him disappear, -and not be heard of until he is wanted, which will not be for a very -long time.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you do not wish to make any stipulation as to the treatment he is -to receive, Bey Effendi? The Kurds may make a slave of him if they -like?” -</p> - -<p> -“Anything, so long as they keep him safely,” said Azim Bey. -</p> - -<p> -M. Karalampi went away well pleased. The news he had just heard, and -his conversation with Azim Bey, had opened up vistas of endless -possibilities of revenge on several of the people against whom he -cherished grudges, besides affording a prospect of gratifying the -wishes of the Um-ul-Pasha and Jamileh Khanum. As for Azim Bey, he -returned to his governess with a quiet mind. He had put matters in -train, and left them in the charge of a safe person, and was able to -enjoy the spectacle of Cecil’s anxiety. In all the bustle of starting -on their further journey, her mind was occupied with other matters -than boxes and bundles. She could not rid herself of the haunting -impression of Charlie’s fatal imprudence. How could he risk death in -this way just for the sake of seeing her? It was foolish, it was -criminal. If only she could have some assurance that he was safely on -his way to Baghdad before Azim Bey’s suspicions were roused! What was -to be done? Could she send Um Yusuf out to make inquiries about him, -and to warn him, if he were still in Hillah, to leave at once? No; -such a step could only serve to awaken suspicion. There was nothing to -be done but to try and let everything take its usual course. In this -belief, she nerved herself to give due attention to her packing, and -at last to don her blue wrapper and mount her mule, although she felt -as though she could not leave the place while Charlie might still be -in it. The appearance of an Armenian, as they passed through the town, -made her start and tremble, but nowhere did her eyes light upon the -face which was now so strange and yet so familiar. She did her best to -assure herself that this showed that Charlie had safely departed, -never guessing that among the miscellaneous throng that closed the -Pasha’s long procession were the two Armenians from Julfa with their -mules and their packs, watched closely by little Ishak. -</p> - -<p> -The march went on, and still Cecil heard and saw nothing. Across the -desert, up the lower hills, over the sandy tablelands, wound the long -cavalcade, headed by banners and guards, kettledrums and led horses, -and escorted by bands of irregular horsemen belonging to the tribes -whose country was traversed. From pleasant villages in fertile valleys -the people came forth with professions of obedience to the Pasha, and -gifts of provisions for his followers. They were a much finer set of -men than the inhabitants of the plains, strapping Kurds in pink and -black striped garments and preposterous turbans, and sturdy Nestorian -Christians in pointed felt caps, the women nearly all well-dressed, -and often very beautiful. At night a site for the camp was chosen -close to some village, and the richer inhabitants gave up their houses -to the Pasha and his immediate following, while the motley crowd of -hangers-on bivouacked outside. The journey through these districts was -very pleasant, but it did not last long. The lower hills, with their -orchards and vineyards, their rose-thickets and fruit-gardens, were -soon left behind, and the way now lay through the mountains, dark and -steep and rugged, which form the outermost of the natural -fortifications of Kurdistan. -</p> - -<p> -The Pasha’s tour was not intended solely as a pleasure-trip. It was -meant to combine with this the functions of a triumphal march, for in -the district which was now to be traversed there had lately been -“troubles,” both with the Kurds and the Yezidis, and the Pasha was -making this progress as a kind of outward sign of the restoration of -order, now that the Mutesalim or lieutenant-governor had put down the -disturbances by force. The Mutesalim came to meet his overlord on the -borders of his district, bringing with him a large body of troops, and -the march through the newly pacified regions began. The Mutesalim was -not altogether happy in his mind, for he was conscious that his own -exactions and bad treatment of the people, Moslems and Christians -alike (to ill-treat the heathen, as the Yezidis were called, was a -matter of course), had caused the disturbances. He was further afraid -that they might prove not to have entirely ceased even now, when, by -his glowing reports of the successes he had won, and the peaceful and -prosperous state of the country, he had, quite unintentionally, -tempted the Pasha into paying it a visit. His uneasiness was only too -well grounded. As soon as the caravan was once embarked on the -difficult mountain-paths, it began to be beset by bands of Yezidis, -the survivors of the communities which the Mutesalim had broken up. He -had carried off the children as slaves and murdered all the adults he -could find, but the young and active men had escaped into the -fastnesses of the hills, and were preparing a welcome for their -oppressor. With them were a few Kurds, whose wrath against the -Mutesalim had been sufficiently strong to join them with the -devil-worshippers in opposing him, and they followed out a policy of -harassing the caravan constantly at inconvenient times. They beset it -in difficult places, and were gone before the troops could be brought -up, and they kept up continual alarms in the night, organising a -series of small surprises on the outskirts of the camp. It was very -evident that the disturbances had not been put down, and the Pasha -represented this to the Mutesalim in forcible language. It was plain -that he was absolutely incapable, and insolent as well, since he had -brought his Excellency out from Baghdad to see a conquered country -which was not conquered at all, and the only thing to be done was for -the Pasha himself to take the business seriously in hand. -</p> - -<p> -When this decision became known, there was loud lamentation and great -dismay in the harem. It was one thing to come on a pleasure-trip, and -quite another to find it turned into a military promenade through a -country swarming with enemies. It was not reassuring to hear, on -camping for the night, that the mountaineers had swept off into -slavery during the march some twenty of the non-combatants in the -rear, nor to find in the morning that two or three guards had been -murdered in the darkness close to one’s tent. Nor was it pleasant, in -the course of the day, just when a particularly nasty place in a steep -descending path had been reached, with a precipice on one side and a -perpendicular wall of rock on the other, to be assailed suddenly by -tremendous stones, which came crashing down across the path, -frightening the mules and almost unseating their riders, while a brisk -fusillade from the summit of the cliffs showed that it was no -avalanche which thus interrupted the march, and caused the ladies to -scream frantically to the guards and soldiers to save them and take -them out of this horrible place. To do the soldiers justice, they were -no more anxious for the ladies’ presence at such a juncture than they -were themselves, declaring that what with the rocks crashing down, the -mules capering, and the women screaming, it was impossible to take aim -or to do anything quietly. Under these circumstances the Pasha thought -it advisable to bestow his household in some safe place before -beginning military operations in earnest, and the caravan moved on as -fast as possible towards the fort and town of Sardiyeh, the seat of -the Mutesalim’s government, where Jamileh Khanum, with her attendants, -was to be left under a strong guard. -</p> - -<p> -The Mutesalim was to accompany his Excellency into the field, to see -how a little war of this kind ought to be conducted, with the prospect -of almost certain disgrace and probable death if any disaster occurred -to the Pasha’s arms, or any mishap ruffled the Pasha’s temper. -Although in the course of his eventful life Ahmed Khémi had been -under fire more than once, he was not a soldier, and the Mutesalim -thought the outlook sufficiently dreary to send on a message to his -household telling them to leave Sardiyeh and go into hiding before the -Pasha’s arrival, that they might not be exposed to his vengeance. When -the arrival of the caravan at the fort disclosed the fact that the -ladies’ apartments were untenanted, the Mutesalim explained that he -had sent away his family in order that there might be more room for -his Excellency’s household, and the Pasha was graciously pleased to -accept the excuse. The rooms vacated proved, however, insufficient to -meet the needs of the party, and for Cecil and her pupil, with their -attendants, accommodation was found in the best house in the little -town by the simple process of turning the inhabitants out to make room -for them. Whether the rightful owners quartered themselves in turn -upon their neighbours, or whether they retired to the stables or the -kitchen, Cecil could not discover, but she was inexpressibly thankful -to have once more a little domain which she could call her own. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch23"> -CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE END OF EVERYTHING.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> journey through the upland country had not been at all a -pleasant one to Cecil, quite irrespective of the continual alarms due -to the attacks of the insurgents. From the very day on which they left -Hillah, Jamileh Khanum’s behaviour had become markedly and -inexplicably disagreeable. She seized every opportunity of heaping -slights on Azim Bey and his governess, and her servants followed her -example. Travelling, as they did, humbly in the rear of the harem -procession, which was headed by the gorgeous <i>takhtrevan</i>, with its -velvet cushions and curtains of cloth-of-gold, in which reposed the -Khanum Effendi and her boy, the little band who formed the household -of Azim Bey were exposed to many unpleasantnesses. It became almost a -matter of course that Cecil should find, on reaching the village where -the night was to be spent, that the Khanum Effendi and her household -had appropriated all the accommodation, leaving her and her party no -choice but to camp in the courtyard. She herself would have been -willing to sacrifice much for the sake of peace, but Azim Bey was by -no means like-minded, and the difficulty was generally settled by a -tremendous quarrel between the respective servants, in the course of -which Masûd, armed with a whip and his young master’s authority, -turned out the intruders in sufficient numbers to secure Cecil and the -other women a resting-place where they would be tolerably free from -the attacks of the mosquitoes and other pests of the region. -</p> - -<p> -Disagreeable as these nightly experiences were, they did not at all -exhaust Jamileh Khanum’s opportunities of making herself unpleasant. -It seemed to Cecil that she was doing her best, with a purposeless -malignity, to lower both Azim Bey and his governess in the eyes of the -servants. Not feeling inclined to assist in this process, Cecil did -her best to keep her followers separate from the rest; but Jamileh -Khanum could never pass the group without an insulting word to her, or -an expression of hatred directed against Azim Bey, who was stigmatised -twenty times a day as the supplanter of his little brother. Cecil’s -patience was sorely tasked, for it was a difficult business to -maintain her own dignity without infringing the respect due to the -Khanum Effendi, and there was no redress. Once on the journey, the -Pasha was scarcely ever to be seen, even by Azim Bey; for custom -required that the gentlemen should all ride at a considerable distance -in front of the harem procession, and for Cecil to have left her -companions to lay her grievances before her employer would have been a -breach of etiquette amounting to a crime. One of the most disagreeable -features of the case was that Jamileh Khanum’s servants imitated their -mistress’s behaviour, and even improved upon it. Azim Bey could always -take care of himself, and Cecil had spirit enough to secure tolerable -respect towards her in her presence, but the treatment which their -household received from that of Jamileh Khanum was galling in the -extreme. Headed by the Levantine Mdlle. Katrina, who had been lent to -her daughter-in-law by the Um-ul-Pasha in view of this journey, the -harem attendants did everything in their power to insult and injure -the servants of the Bey. -</p> - -<p> -What reason there could be for this state of affairs Cecil could not -conceive, until it struck her one day, from various signs which she -observed, that her slighted admirer, M. Karalampi, was in -communication with Jamileh Khanum. As had been the case at Baghdad, -the go-between was Mdlle. Katrina. It was of course impossible for her -to have any actual intercourse with M. Karalampi, who was in front -with the Pasha; but Mdlle. Katrina had a nephew, an ill-conditioned -youth of mixed parentage and doubtful nationality, who was continually -to be seen hanging about in the neighbourhood of the harem tents. Once -or twice Cecil came upon this individual talking to his aunt in -secluded corners, a thing which could not have happened if the agas -had not diplomatically turned their backs; but it seemed ridiculous to -suppose that M. Karalampi’s schemes could be in any way forwarded by -the petty persecution which had been set on foot, and she thought -little of the matter. It was Um Yusuf who first let her into the -secret of the mortifications she had endured, but this was not until -Sardiyeh was reached, and they were safe in their own house, and as -free from insult as in their courtyard at Baghdad. -</p> - -<p> -“Come down the hill with me, Um Yusuf,—I want to make a sketch,” -Cecil said to her maid the morning after their arrival, entranced by -the effects of light and shade produced by the sunrise upon the dark -mountains. -</p> - -<p> -“You not go beyond the gate, mademoiselle?” asked Um Yusuf, anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Why not?” asked Cecil, in astonishment. “There is a place just -outside the town-wall which has a splendid view. We will take little -Ishak to carry the paint-box, and we shall be in sight of the guard at -the gate. Besides, the Kurds would not venture so near to the town.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, slowly and impressively, “you not go -one step outside gate without Masûd. Suppose guard looking the other -way; Kurds or any bad men come up quickly, kill you, kill me, run -away. What good guard do?” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should the Kurds be lying in wait for us?” asked Cecil, -laughing. -</p> - -<p> -“I said Kurds <i>or any bad men</i>, mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil, impressed by the woman’s -tone. “Is there any one who wants to kill us?” -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you what I know,” said Um Yusuf, looking fearfully round the -house-top, where they were standing. “Khanum Effendi want get you away -from Azim Bey, mademoiselle. All this time she been rude to you, and -her servants the same, but when you not there they say to Basmeh -Kalfa, to Masûd, to me, ‘You see your Mdlle. Antaza? What she signify -here? Khanum Effendi do what she like with her. Balio Bey big man, but -his arm not reach to Kurdistan. You help Khanum Effendi get rid of -her, you not be punished, get plenty of money. You say she want poison -Azim Bey, Pasha send her away, all right for you.’ That what they say -to us, mademoiselle, we say no, tell Pasha if they do it again. They -laugh at us, but not try it, and I think they kill you if they can.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil turned pale. It was a horrible thing to feel that her enemies -had tried to bribe her own servants to bear false witness against her, -and to know that she owed her life to their faithfulness. Their safety -as well as her own was now at stake, and she did not need another -warning from Um Yusuf. She kept her pupil with her all day, and did -not attempt to go out unless escorted by Masûd. It did not occur to -her to take further precautions, and she did not know until some time -afterwards that Um Yusuf, fearing poison, made a practice of tasting -beforehand every dish which was to be set before her mistress. All the -food used by the household was purchased separately in the market by -Basmeh Kalfa, and none of the harem slaves were allowed to come near -the kitchen. These measures once taken, Um Yusuf felt that things were -tolerably safe, not knowing that Jamileh Khanum’s messengers had -conveyed to M. Karalampi the news of the failure to corrupt the -members of the household, and also of the precautions which had been -adopted, and that the answer returned was that he had a new plan for -effecting the desired purpose just ready to be put in action. -</p> - -<p> -It afforded a partial relief to Cecil’s anxiety for her pupil when he -was allowed, in answer to his piteous prayers, to accompany his father -and the troops part of the way in their march against the chief -stronghold of the insurgents. He was away for some days, and his -governess employed the time in writing one of the long journal letters -which kept the family at Whitcliffe regularly informed of all her -doings under ordinary circumstances, but had been neglected during the -exciting times of the last few weeks, which were unfavourable to -epistolary composition. But it was still difficult to write, for Cecil -did not dare to say a word on the subject which lay nearest her -heart—that of Charlie’s present whereabouts. The alarm she had felt -on his account in leaving Hillah had increased tenfold now that a -considerable time had elapsed without her hearing from him, and it was -in vain that she tried to comfort herself with the suggestion that the -insurgents might have prevented the passage of any couriers, or that -his letters might have been intercepted once more. She felt sure that -if he had reached Baghdad, he would not have failed to send her some -intimation of his safety through Sir Dugald, with whose letters -neither Azim Bey nor the mountaineers, who cherished a deep veneration -for the British name, would venture to meddle. It was evident, then, -that Charlie was either still in Hillah, or was retracing his steps to -Ispahan by the way he had come—if, at least, he had not been -suspected and seized. -</p> - -<p> -The thought of this last possibility tormented Cecil day and night, -and the more so that no means of solving the mystery presented -themselves to her. Even if she wrote to Sir Dugald to inform him of -her meeting with Charlie and of her fears respecting his safety, and -inquiries were set on foot, it might have just the effect of arousing -suspicion, and endangering him in his journey back to Persia or his -retirement at Hillah, supposing that he had settled down there to -enjoy a taste of Eastern life once more. Cecil longed wearily for some -assurance that this was the case, and wished too late that she had not -set her face so resolutely against her lover’s eccentricities in the -past. Merely to know now that he was safe in the camp of some sheikh -of the Hajar would have been the height of bliss, but it was a bliss -she was not to enjoy. -</p> - -<p> -To write her letter under these circumstances, without alluding to the -subject which filled almost all her waking thoughts, was a difficult -task, but she feared that the epistle might fall into unfriendly -hands, and she wrote it without even mentioning Charlie’s name. The -recital of the alarms and moving incidents which had diversified the -passage of the caravan through the mountains took her so long that she -did not finish the letter until the afternoon of the day on which Azim -Bey was expected back, and she gave a sigh of gratification as she -wrapped the envelope in the strong paper covering which was necessary -to protect it against the rough usage it would probably meet with in -its transit to Baghdad. This operation completed, and the packet -firmly sealed, she went out on the broad <i>lewan</i> or piazza to call one -of the servants, who might give it to the Pasha’s courier before he -started on his journey to the city. -</p> - -<p> -Looking down into the courtyard, without the slightest foreboding of -coming trouble, she saw that the servants had a visitor. Um Yusuf, old -Ayesha, and Basmeh Kalfa were sitting on the ground, entertaining with -coffee and cakes an elderly woman in whom Cecil recognised a former -<i>kalfa</i> of the Um-ul-Pasha’s, who had married a non-commissioned -officer of one of the regiments which formed the guard of honour, and -who had been permitted to accompany her husband on this expedition. -But the cakes stood untasted, and Basmeh Kalfa had paused in the act -of pouring out the coffee, and was holding the pot suspended in the -air, while she and the others stared with eyes of horror at their -visitor, and listened with upraised hands of dismay to some story -which she seemed to be narrating. -</p> - -<p> -“May God visit it upon my own head if it be not true!” concluded the -stranger, and Cecil heard Um Yusuf apostrophising a string of obscure -Syrian saints, while the two other women murmured, “God forbid!” and -“God is great!” in awestruck tones. -</p> - -<p> -“How wilt thou tell thy lady, O Um Yusuf?” asked old Ayesha, just as -Um Yusuf looked up, met her mistress’s eye, and dropped in her -consternation the cup she was holding. A feeling for which she could -not account impelled Cecil to descend the steps leading into the court -and enter the group, the members of which started guiltily when they -found her among them, the visitor alone taking refuge in an assumed -carelessness. -</p> - -<p> -“Is anything wrong? What is the matter?” Cecil asked. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, nothing, mademoiselle,” replied Um Yusuf, hastily. “You want me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am sure there is something wrong,” said Cecil. “Latifeh Kalfa has -brought bad news. What is it that you are to tell me, Um Yusuf?” -</p> - -<p> -“You come with me, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, trying to draw her -mistress aside. “That daughter of Shaitan know nothing—she make it -all up.” -</p> - -<p> -“God forbid!” said Latifeh Kalfa, piously. -</p> - -<p> -“O my soul, come with me!” entreated Um Yusuf. -</p> - -<p> -“I insist upon hearing what she has told you,” said Cecil, standing -her ground, although the affectionate epithet from the lips of the -sedate Syrian woman thrilled her with alarm. -</p> - -<p> -“She say, mademoiselle,” said Um Yusuf, unwillingly, “that those two -Armenians from Hillah were with Pasha’s caravan in the mountains, and -Kurds carry them off.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is this true?” demanded Cecil of Latifeh Kalfa. -</p> - -<p> -“I heard it from my husband, who was with the rearguard, O my lady,” -replied the woman; “and more than that, I can testify that though I -had often seen them before, yet they disappeared altogether from that -time.” -</p> - -<p> -“But was it Kurds, not Yezidis?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Kurds, O my lady,” purred the woman. She had a soft, smooth voice, -and a way of fastening her eyes sleepily on the person she addressed. -Cecil, standing for a moment overwhelmed, felt an unreasoning hatred -spring up in her heart against her. It was only for the first instant -that the disaster crushed her, however, and she sought immediate -relief in action. -</p> - -<p> -“I want you to come out with me, Um Yusuf,” she said. -</p> - -<p> -“But, mademoiselle, Masûd not here. You not go without him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I can’t wait.” -</p> - -<p> -“But they kill us, mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then stay behind and I will go alone. Don’t you see that there is not -a moment to lose?” -</p> - -<p> -“If I perish, I perish,” was Um Yusuf’s mental utterance as she -wrapped her sheet round her and followed her mistress without another -word. She would face all the Kurds in Kurdistan rather than let -mademoiselle go out by herself. -</p> - -<p> -“Where you going, mademoiselle?” she asked, as they approached the -gate. -</p> - -<p> -“To the little Christian village down in the valley,” responded Cecil, -steadily. “The priest there will help us. He can speak English.” -</p> - -<p> -“What! Kasha Thoma?” asked Um Yusuf. “Oh yes, he good man, been with -Melican missionaries at Beyrout. But what you say to him, -mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“I shall ask him to send off a trustworthy messenger at once to -Baghdad, to tell the Balio Bey what we have heard. If the Pasha were -here, I would go straight to -</p> - -<p> -[*** missing text. See <a href="#tn">Transcriber’s Notes</a>.] -</p> - -<p> -“What you ’fraid of, mademoiselle?” inquired Um Yusuf. -</p> - -<p> -“That the Kurds may carry Dr Egerton away into the mountains, or take -him to Persia, and perhaps treat him badly,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -Um Yusuf’s own fears were of a darker nature, but she was wise enough -to keep silence concerning them, and presently her mind became -engrossed with the thought of the peril into which she and her -mistress were running by leaving the town unattended. True, almost -every foot of the winding path which led to the Nestorian village was -under the eye of the watchman at the town-gate, and also of the -Turkish sentinels at the fort, but the untoward events of the journey, -and the alarms of the last few weeks, would have shaken the nerves of -most people, and Um Yusuf’s imagination conjured up lurking Kurds -behind every rock. More than once she was on the point of declaring -her conviction that Latifeh Kalfa’s whole story was a fraud, invented -for the very purpose of decoying Cecil out in this way, that she might -fall into the hands of the Kurdish raiders; but the certainty that, -even if she turned back, her mistress would infallibly go on alone, -kept her silent, and she followed on in the spirit of a martyr, -casting timid glances on either side. Fervently she longed for the -protection of Masûd and his stout cudgel, but neither was at hand. -Her greatest trial was still to come, for at the foot of the hill a -man rose suddenly from the shelter of a clump of bushes and ran -towards them. Um Yusuf screamed and clutched Cecil’s arm. -</p> - -<p> -“It is only a beggar,” said Cecil, quickly; and indeed the shrunken -form in its multi-coloured rags could scarcely have been considered -formidable in any case. As he reached them the man tore off the -<i>kaffiyeh</i> which enveloped his head, disclosing a face at sight of -which both women started and turned pale. The wasted features were -those of Hanna, the Armenian lad who had been Charlie Egerton’s -servant at Baghdad, and had accompanied him on his foolhardy -adventure. -</p> - -<p> -“O luckless one!” screamed Um Yusuf, finding her tongue first, “what -evil fate has befallen thee? Where is thy master?” -</p> - -<p> -“What is that to do with thee?” demanded Hanna. “I am here with a -message from him to thy lady.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me quickly,” cried Cecil, “is he ill? in prison?” -</p> - -<p> -“He had no time to write,” pursued Hanna, evasively, “but I have -carried his words.” -</p> - -<p> -“But is he—is he——” gasped Cecil. “He is not dead?” -</p> - -<p> -“O my lady, he is dead. I am come unto thee with the last words he -said.” -</p> - -<p> -“Go on,” said Cecil, hoarsely, her tearless eyes searching the man’s -face. -</p> - -<p> -“I can tell thee but little, O my lady, for all was done so quickly. -My master and I left Hillah with our mules in the train of the Pasha, -desiring to pass through the mountains in safety. But on a certain day -there was an attack made upon the rear-guard, and the robbers -succeeded in getting between it and the main body. There was a great -turmoil, for all the traders and their beasts were mixed up with the -soldiers and the enemy upon a narrow ledge of rock, and in the -confusion a band of Kurds separated some of us from the rest, and -dragged us away by force. Among these were my master and I, for he had -bidden me keep close beside him. Then they bound our hands and -fastened us to their saddles, and led us along many steep and winding -paths, going continually farther into the mountains. But my master -said, ‘Courage, Hanna! don’t lose heart. We will yet slip away from -them,’ and I was cheered, knowing his coolness and bravery. But at -last they left the horses behind, and began to climb up rocks such as -the wild goats love, still leading my master and me with them. So then -we came to a valley in the highest part of the mountains, in which -there was a pool of water and some sheep, and when my master saw the -place, he said, ‘Our wanderings are over, O Hanna, for they would -never have shown us this stronghold of theirs had they meant us to -leave it alive.’ Now in this valley were caves, and into one of these -they thrust my master and me, leaving us without food or water for two -days and nights. But on the third day one of the Kurds in passing -called out to us between the stones at the mouth of the cave, ‘Dogs of -Christians, prepare for death!’ Then while my master and I looked at -one another, the rest came and took down the stones and led my master -away. But as he went he turned and said to me, ‘If thou shouldst -escape, seek out Mdlle. Antaza, and say this to her from me’—and -truly, O my lady, I have repeated it night and morning on my fingers, -lest I should forget it, for it was seven English words”—and -spreading out his hand, Hanna read off mechanically, -“‘Good—bye—dar—ling—God—bless—you.’” -</p> - -<p> -A choking sob burst from Cecil, but she signed to the man to continue. -</p> - -<p> -“That was the last time I saw my master alive, O my lady. But that -evening they led me forth also, and I thought that surely my hour of -death was come, but they took me only to the brow of a precipice, and -told me to look down. And looking down, I saw——” -</p> - -<p> -“What?” asked Cecil, sharply. -</p> - -<p> -“I saw my master’s body lying far below, in the Armenian dress he had -worn, in a pit as deep as Jehannam. And the robbers laughed at me, and -bade me mark the place well, saying, ‘Thy master’s turn to-day, thine -to-morrow.’ Then they led me back, more dead than alive with fear; but -behold! before we reached the cave we found coming to meet us certain -other Kurds, who had only just arrived in the stronghold, and those -with me stopped to salute them and to ask them of their welfare. And -after welcoming them they killed a sheep and made a feast, leaving me -in the cave, but with no stone at its mouth. And when they were eating -and were merry, and it was dark and no guard set, I crept out, and -finding the sword of a man who had thrown it aside while he ate, I cut -through my bonds. Then, taking the sword with me, and some bread that -lay near, I stole away, and when I was out of earshot of the Kurds, I -started to run. But how I found the way down the mountain, or how I -did not fall and die, I cannot tell; I know only that I made my way -hither, and for three days have I watched for thee, O my lady, to give -thee the message of the dead. But into the town I could not come, for -the watchman at the gate drove me away.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what wilt thou do now?” asked Um Yusuf. -</p> - -<p> -“I should wish to return to Baghdad and my own people,” he said; “but -how am I to go there, when my master is dead, and the Kurds have -robbed me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Go to Baghdad,” said Cecil, emptying her purse mechanically into his -hands, “and tell the Balio Bey what you have told me. Don’t lose -time—but no, there is no need of any hurry now. Let us go back to -Sardiyeh, Um Yusuf. Kasha Thoma cannot help us.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch24"> -CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">PRISONERS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">They</span> retraced their steps up the rugged hill-path, Cecil first, Um -Yusuf following her, and went in at the gate, climbing the steep -rock-hewn lanes of the little town in silence. At their house-door -Masûd was lounging in his accustomed place, and started up in -astonishment on seeing them approaching from the street. -</p> - -<p> -“This is not well, O my lady,” he said to Cecil, with an air of -respectful remonstrance which would have amused her at any other time. -“Does my lady wish to bring wrath upon her servant’s head from the Bey -Effendi, that she goes out without summoning him to attend upon her?” -</p> - -<p> -“Hold thy peace, foolish one!” cried Um Yusuf, as Cecil turned and -stared at him with unseeing eyes. “Is my lady to be taken to task by -thy insolent tongue? Let her pass, or I will complain to the Bey -Effendi of thy rudeness.” -</p> - -<p> -Sorely perplexed, Masûd yielded the point, and opened the gate for -them. Ayesha and the other women were looking out curiously from the -doorway of their room, but on catching sight of Cecil they drew back, -and she passed on with bowed head. Mounting the steps of the <i>lewan</i>, -she entered her own room, and dropped on the divan with a wordless -moan. At present she did not in the least realise the full horror of -the news she had heard; she only knew that a sudden blow had fallen -upon her, blotting out all recollection and deadening every feeling. -All night she lay where she had sunk down, deaf to Um Yusuf’s -remonstrances and entreaties; and when she allowed herself to be -raised from the divan in the morning, it was only to return to it -again, leaving her breakfast untasted, and to sit crouched in a -corner, staring before her with stony eyes. In vain Um Yusuf pleaded -and entreated; her mistress did not even seem to hear her, and noticed -her presence as little as she did that of the other women, who crowded -round the door of her room, looking pityingly at her. They had no idea -of the instinctive desire for solitude of one in deep grief; their -notion of showing sympathy was to assemble together and discuss all -the circumstances of the case in the mourner’s hearing, and Um Yusuf -was too much harassed, too anxious for help and advice, to drive them -away, as she would ordinarily have done. That Mdlle. Antaza had gone -mad was the general opinion, and this was confirmed by the fact that -she took no notice of the intruders, and seemed neither to see nor -hear them. Um Yusuf was at her wits’ end. She knew no more of mental -pathology than she did of comparative anatomy, but she had the help of -long experience to guide her, and she knew that this deadly calm must -be broken. -</p> - -<p> -At last, as the readiest means of effecting this, she went in search -of Azim Bey. He had only just returned, a day later than he was -expected, and was hearing from Masûd all that the worthy aga could -tell him of what had happened. To say that he was appalled is only -faintly to describe his feelings. He had often wished Charlie out of -the way, and it is not improbable that he would have been deeply -grateful for any fatal accident or illness which had removed him from -mademoiselle’s path. But that Dr Egerton should be murdered in cold -blood, and that, too, as a direct consequence of the arrangement he -had made with M. Karalampi, was a very different thing. He shrank back -and shivered at the thought of meeting Cecil, but Um Yusuf would take -no denial, and fairly led him back to the sitting-room. Her stony -silence and the reproachful glances of the other women were sufficient -to make a deep impression even on his hardened young heart; but when -he saw Cecil crouched on the divan, her eyes fixed, her hands hanging -idle, he would have fled if he could. Um Yusuf, expecting such an -attempt, pushed him into the room, and as he entered it timidly, Cecil -looked up and met his gaze, then turned away with a shuddering sigh. -He could not bear it. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, rushing to her, regardless of the shiver -of repulsion with which she drew herself away from him, “forgive me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Then it was your fault,” said Cecil, slowly. “You had him killed.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, mademoiselle, not that—not that! Oh, my dear mademoiselle, I -have been very wicked, very unkind, but I never wanted him killed. I -wished him to be kept safely, where you would not see him, until the -time came for you to leave us, that I might try to make you stay with -me, and then he was to be set free; but what I wanted was never -this—never this, mademoiselle,” and he flung himself sobbing at her -feet and kissed the hem of her dress. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me, Bey,” said Cecil, laying a hand on his shoulder, and -speaking in the same restrained tones, “can you say truly that you had -no hand in his death?” -</p> - -<p> -“None, mademoiselle, none!” sobbed Azim Bey. “It is my fault, for I -hated him, and wished him to be carried off by the Kurds, but I never -wanted him dead, and I would give all I have to bring him back to life -now. Oh, mademoiselle, only forgive me, and we will avenge his death a -thousand times over. I will speak to my father of these wretches who -have murdered Dr Egerton, and they shall give a life for every drop of -his blood. They shall be swept from the face of the earth, and their -wives and children and all belonging to them, and their houses shall -be made a desolation for ever. And as for M. Karalampi, that Shaitan, -he shall be——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, hush, Bey,” said Cecil, shuddering; “I don’t want vengeance. How -can you suggest it? These men have only understood your orders a -little too well. And how could it comfort me to know that innocent -women and children were punished for the fault of the men?—it would -make my grief ten times greater. But oh, Bey, remember,” and her voice -was choked, “that a life once taken can never be restored.” -</p> - -<p> -She broke down and sobbed passionately, while Azim Bey knelt at her -feet, entreating her forgiveness again and again. He would not leave -her until Um Yusuf laid a strong hand on his shoulder and dragged him -away, telling him that he would make mademoiselle ill. Even then he -broke away from her grasp at the door and rushed back, with a piteous -entreaty that Cecil would say she forgave him; but she was too much -overcome with the violence of her grief to answer, and he went away -sorrowful. Um Yusuf was better pleased, for her plan had succeeded. -She had made her mistress shed tears at last, and she waited until she -was exhausted with weeping and then coaxed her to go to bed. Sheer -bodily fatigue made her sleep, and she awoke the next day in a more -normal condition. It was characteristic of her that when once the -haunting consciousness of overshadowing trouble which oppressed her on -waking had resolved itself into the terrible knowledge that her world -was from henceforth bereft of Charlie, her next thought was that the -ordinary duties of the day must still be fulfilled, and she set -herself mechanically to dress as usual, and went out on the <i>lewan</i> to -seek her pupil. He was there, wandering aimlessly and miserably about, -and came timidly to kiss her hand, with evident fear and reluctance. -</p> - -<p> -“Can you forgive me, mademoiselle?” he asked, anxiously. “It was my -fault, but I never meant to do it.” The sadness in his voice went to -Cecil’s heart. -</p> - -<p> -“God helping me, Bey, I do forgive you,” she answered with quivering -lips; “but please don’t speak about it any more.” -</p> - -<p> -The boy kissed her hand again in silence, and the compact was sealed, -but the subject which neither of them mentioned was continually in -both their minds. They went to lessons as usual, and Cecil tried -honestly to behave to her pupil just as she had always done; but once -or twice the thought of that scene in the Kurdish stronghold returned -upon her so powerfully that she turned from him with an irrepressible -shudder. She could see it all—the group of fanatical mountaineers on -the brow of the precipice surrounding the solitary figure with bound -hands and ragged Armenian dress. She could hear the rapid questions -and answers passing between the Kurds and their prisoner, and the -fierce taunts and shout of derision that succeeded them. And -then—then—she saw the headlong plunge outwards into space, the -piteous crash, the mangled form that lay motionless at the foot of the -steep, a bloodstained heap of rags, as it had appeared to the -trembling Hanna, forced to his knees by the murderers on the cliff -above that he might behold their work. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Charlie, Charlie, if I could have died instead!” she cried, -wildly, dropping her book and beginning to pace up and down the -<i>lewan</i>, every nerve throbbing with the bitter consciousness of her -own powerlessness at the time of Charlie’s greatest need. And she had -known nothing of it at the time! How was it that no sense of his -danger had penetrated to her mind—that she had not known intuitively -that he was tasting the bitterness of death while she was occupied in -trying to still the petty squabbles between her servants and those of -Jamileh Khanum? Surely there must be something wanting in her, that -such a crisis could arrive in the life of the man to whom her whole -heart was given, and she know nothing of it? True, she could not have -helped him, but she could have prayed with him and for him, and -perhaps some hint of her distant sympathy might have reached him even -at that terrible moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle!” said Azim Bey, timidly, and Cecil pressed her hands to -her head and sat down again, trying hard to conquer the feeling of -repulsion which the boy’s mere presence gave her. The natural fairness -of her mind would not allow her to hold him responsible for the -extreme consequences of his childish jealousy, but she dared not trust -herself to dwell upon the thought that but for his interference -Charlie might be alive and well now. The memory which she thus thrust -from her had come unbidden to the mind of Azim Bey, and for once his -remorse was deep and lasting. Cecil’s white face and heavy eyes were a -constant reproach to him, and he did his utmost to testify his sorrow -for what he had done. Any wish that she expressed was to be gratified -immediately, and he watched over her and waited upon her with a -faithfulness which touched her extremely. The women and Masûd -followed his example, and vied with each other in doing her all the -kindnesses in their power; but as the weeks passed on, it became -evident that other people were not so forbearing. Latifeh Kalfa was a -frequent visitor to the courtyard at this time, and took to gossiping -with the negresses when she found herself shunned by the white women -as a bringer of evil tidings; and what happened immediately afterwards -left little doubt that she had been commissioned to report on what she -saw and heard. Jamileh Khanum sent for Azim Bey and questioned him -closely as to the cause of the change which had come over his -governess. He returned from his interview with her grave and unhappy, -but said nothing before the servants. -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle,” he said to Cecil, as they sat beside the brazier after -supper, “there is something I must say to you. You have enemies in the -harem, and they make up lying reports about you to tell my father when -he returns. The little lady mother said to Mdlle. Katrina when I was -there that you were going mad, and that you had taken a dislike to me -and would murder me. They know what happened to—him, and they think -you will try to avenge his death on me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you are not afraid, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a sad smile. -</p> - -<p> -“I? oh no, mademoiselle. I know that you are good, and that you love -me, since you have even forgiven me. I don’t want them to send you -away from me, but that is what they wish to do, and they will do it if -they can persuade the Pasha. They are going to send the <i>hakim bashi</i> -to see you, and they will talk to him beforehand, so that he will do -what they tell him. Could you not look a little more cheerful, dear -mademoiselle, just when he comes?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will try,” said Cecil, but when she looked at herself in the glass -it struck her that the attempt would be of little use. Could that -pale, sad face, from which mournful eyes looked out at her, be her -own? If so, it was no wonder that Jamileh Khanum was startled by the -change, since even Cecil herself found it surprising. The strain of -keeping up her spirits in Azim Bey’s presence was tremendous, and day -after day the difficulty of going through the routine of work and -recreation became greater. But for his sake she would try to impress -the physician favourably, impossible though it seemed even to affect -cheerfulness. -</p> - -<p> -The <i>hakim bashi</i> arrived, and she did her best, receiving him with -what composure she could muster, and forcing herself to an unexpected -burst of high spirits, which only confirmed the physician in the -belief which his patroness and her attendant had diligently instilled -into his mind, that Mdlle. Antaza’s brain was affected. In this -opinion he was strengthened when, on coming back hastily to fetch -something he had left, he surprised Cecil in a fit of deep depression, -into which she had sunk on the withdrawal of the momentary excitement. -For a time, however, nothing came of his visit, and Azim Bey’s -household began to hope that the alarm had been a false one, designed -by Jamileh Khanum for the purpose of frightening them, when an order -came from the Pasha that everything was to be packed up, and every one -ready to start at a moment’s notice. Flushed with victory, Ahmed -Khémi was returning to Baghdad by a road slightly different from that -which he had taken in coming, and his household, with the military -escort, was to meet him at a spot situated a good deal lower down the -mountain than was Sardiyeh. -</p> - -<p> -Two or three days after the order had been given, Cecil and her pupil -were disturbed at breakfast by a sudden invasion of their courtyard. -Two of the harem agas swaggered in, and with more than their usual -insolence announced that they brought the Khanum Effendi’s orders. -Azim Bey and his attendants were to start that morning with the harem -procession, which was almost ready for the journey, but Mdlle. Antaza -and her nurse were to remain where they were for the present. Cecil’s -anger rose at this cool command. -</p> - -<p> -“The Khanum Effendi has no right to detain me here,” she said, -quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Pasha’s order,” was the sole reply, and the chief aga held out a -document which on examination proved to be a permission from his -Excellency for Mdlle. Antaza to remain behind in the mountains for -rest, according to the <i>hakim bashi’s</i> recommendation, until her -health should be completely restored. Sardiyeh was to continue to be -her residence until further orders should be received. Cecil read the -paper through and handed it back calmly to the man. Nothing had power -to astonish her now. If the order had been for her instant execution, -she would scarcely have felt surprise. But to the other women the blow -came unexpectedly, and they pressed forward with loud weeping to kiss -her hands and the hem of her dress. That they feared something much -worse than the letter implied was evident, and they heaped blessings -and expressions of pity upon her alternately, while Um Yusuf stood by -and abused the agas roundly, in especial threatening them in such -moving terms with the wrath of the Balio Bey that they glanced round -apprehensively, as though expecting to see Sir Dugald appear -miraculously in all his might as the champion of injured virtue. -Speedily recovering themselves, however, they drove off the women, -wailing and beating their breasts and calling down maledictions upon -the agas’ respective ancestors, while Azim Bey, who had been standing -at Cecil’s side, was also ordered to accompany them. The boy’s very -lips were white as he kissed his governess’s hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t lose heart, mademoiselle,” he whispered. “I know they intend -evil against you, but my father shall know everything, and if he will -not help I will speak to the Balio Bey.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are we to be left here alone?” asked Cecil of the agas. -</p> - -<p> -“My lady’s servants are charged by the Khanum Effendi to wait upon and -watch over her and her nurse,” said the chief, gruffly. -</p> - -<p> -“We are to be prisoners, then?” said Cecil, as Azim Bey shuddered and -gripped her hand more tightly. -</p> - -<p> -“That is as my lady pleases,” returned the man. “Within these walls -she may do what she likes, but outside there are the Kurds and the -worshippers of Shaitan, and the Mutesalim will be returning, who has -no fear of the Balio Bey, and therefore the Khanum Effendi, in her -care for my lady, considers that it will be well for her not to leave -the house.” -</p> - -<p> -“Listen to me, O Aga Mansur,” cried Azim Bey, “and upon thy head be it -if thou fail in what I command thee. I leave mademoiselle in thy -charge, and if she suffers any hurt, I swear by my father’s beard that -thou shalt pay for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” was the ceremonious answer. “Will it -please my lord now to depart?” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey went out with all the dignity he could muster, though the -tears were very near his eyes, while the two strange agas took -Masûd’s place at the gate and proceeded to arrange their belongings -in his room. The door was now shut, and the two captives returned to -the <i>lewan</i> to consider the situation. -</p> - -<p> -“The Khanum Effendi want kill us,” said Um Yusuf, angry and alarmed. -“You got pistol, mademoiselle? knife? dagger?” -</p> - -<p> -“Only a penknife,” said Cecil, wearily. “What does it signify, Um -Yusuf? I don’t believe they mean to kill us, and if they did, a -penknife wouldn’t prevent them.” -</p> - -<p> -But Um Yusuf was not to be silenced. She instituted a methodical -search for arms, and was successful in discovering two table-knives -which had been brought from Baghdad for Cecil’s use. The shape and -size of these made them difficult to carry about the person, but she -concealed them with great care among the cushions of the divan, and -felt happier. At night her fears revived, and she dragged her bed into -her mistress’s room, and insisted on closing the window and -barricading the door with every movable thing she could find, and this -state of siege she maintained with unflagging perseverance. The two -agas took no notice, and seemed to feel little interest in anything -their prisoners did. If their intentions were evil, they feared Um -Yusuf’s precautions too much to put them into execution, and thus days -and weeks slipped by without alarm. -</p> - -<p> -To Cecil the time was one of rest, so much needed as to be almost -welcome. She made little or no attempt to occupy herself with books or -work, but sat on the house-top gazing at the mountains and the sky, -and seldom speaking. Um Yusuf became very uneasy about her, fearing -this quiet acquiescence in her grief almost more than the feverish -excitement of the days before the departure of Azim Bey and the rest. -It seemed to her that her mistress needed rousing and taking out of -herself, and she honestly did her best to effect this, according to -her lights. She encouraged her to sketch, tried in vain to induce her -to study, and even gave herself the trouble of fashioning a -draught-board and set of men, with the aid of one of the precious -table-knives, so that she might invite her to play. -</p> - -<p> -“Why you not write your memoirs, mademoiselle?” she said more than -once. “The Khanum Effendi’s governess, in Tahir Pasha’s house, she -always write when she was alone, say she get great deal of money some -day. She put in all that everybody say, and all the things she not -like.” -</p> - -<p> -“My experiences are not interesting enough,” Cecil would say, -patiently, for she knew that Um Yusuf teased her from the best -possible motives. “I couldn’t write about the things I have really -felt, and who cares nowadays for descriptions of ruins and deserts? -When I am dead, Fitz and Eily and the rest can publish my letters for -their grandchildren’s benefit, if they like, but I won’t do it.” -</p> - -<p> -Um Yusuf would yield for the moment with a sigh, and proceed to relate -stories from her family history, with the view of diverting Cecil’s -mind from her own sorrows, and showing her that there were people -worse off than herself. The stories were all about massacres, and -fearful torments endured at the hands of Moslems and Druses, of a -character to make the listener’s hair stand on end with horror on -ordinary occasions, but Cecil could not be roused into taking more -than a languid interest in the events described. Sometimes she did not -even hear them. It never struck Um Yusuf that this season of absolute -rest was exactly what her mistress needed, coming, as it did, when -body and mind, stunned by a fearful shock, were almost failing under -the effort to carry on the everyday routine of work. There was an -atmosphere of calm which almost amounted to happiness spread over -these days, and Cecil lived through them idly, her mind dwelling in -the past, with no thought of the future. The sense of abiding loss was -always with her, but she lived over again the five years during which -she had known Charlie, and felt almost as though his presence were -near her still. No thought of picturing the infinite sadness of a -return to daily life without him had yet presented itself to trouble -her, just as she had not energy enough to speculate on the duration of -her imprisonment, nor to form any plans as to her future. It was a -time merely of waiting, uncoloured either by hope or despair. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch25"> -CHAPTER XXV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">“THE VOICE OF ENGLAND IN THE EAST.”</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Leaving</span> Cecil and Um Yusuf in their captivity at Sardiyeh, the harem -procession made its way down the winding mountain-paths, a curious -assemblage of closely swathed white figures mounted on mules and -donkeys, and headed by the waving curtains of Jamileh Khanum’s litter. -On either side rode the black agas, armed with whips with which to -drive off any inquisitive wayfarer; and before and behind came the -guard of soldiers whom the Pasha had left under the charge of his -master of the horse for the purpose of protecting his wife. At the end -of the train of women and agas rode Azim Bey and his attendants, -obliged to follow even the negresses who acted as cooks and -scullerymaids, a humiliation which sorely tasked the boy’s proud -spirit. But this was not the worst. He felt convinced, from the -meaning looks and whispered words which passed among the women, that -the Khanum Effendi was considered to have gained not only a moral but -a material victory in that she had succeeded in getting rid of Cecil. -That some evil was intended against him, to which his governess’s -presence was considered a bar, he was sure, and he felt more lonely -and helpless than he had ever done in his life. And indeed Jamileh -Khanum was jubilant as she reclined on her gold-embroidered cushions. -She had accomplished the task in which she had so often failed, and -separated Cecil from her pupil with comparatively little difficulty. -</p> - -<p> -“You must get rid of Mdlle. Antaza if you wish to reach Azim Bey,” had -been one of M. Karalampi’s messages to her through Mdlle. Katrina. -“Separately we can deal with them easily, but together they are too -strong for us.” -</p> - -<p> -This had been the secret of the attempts made to sap the loyalty of -the servants, and induce them to bring a false accusation against -Cecil—this also of the hints and threatenings of murder which had -alarmed Um Yusuf; but it was M. Karalampi, assisted unintentionally by -Azim Bey himself, who had devised the plan by which the news of -Charlie’s murder had after all produced the desired effect. So far -everything had gone smoothly. Immediately after telling his story to -Cecil, Hanna had been seized and conveyed to a distance, and was now -in safe custody, for it was no part of the scheme that he should be -allowed to reach Baghdad and acquaint the Balio Bey with what had -happened. And now, as she counted the hours until the place named by -the Pasha as the rendezvous should be reached, Jamileh Khanum felt -calm and triumphant. Her part in the conspiracy had been faithfully -performed; it only rested with M. Karalampi to do his share. -Everything was ready; Mdlle. Katrina had only to see her nephew and -give him the message that Azim Bey was now unprotected by the presence -of his governess, and might safely be attacked. All details were left -to him; the only thing that Jamileh Khanum cared for was to get her -stepson out of the way. -</p> - -<p> -But at the rendezvous disappointment was awaiting her. Neither M. -Karalampi nor his ill-conditioned servant was to be seen, and it was -some time before Mdlle. Katrina succeeded in discovering that they -were not with the Pasha at all. Instead of being in attendance on his -Excellency, M. Karalampi had been left behind in the disturbed -district, nominally as secretary to the Mutesalim, who had been -wounded during the Pasha’s military operations, but in reality as a -spy upon him, to the great disgust of both. The Mutesalim naturally -resented the indignity of being saddled with a guardian who must be -“squared” by receiving a considerable share of every piece of plunder -unless his charge’s doings were to be reported to the Pasha, and a -good deal blackened in the process, but his emotions were mild -compared with those of M. Karalampi. His anger arose from the fact -that by this action the Pasha had unconsciously neutralised all his -plans. Of what use was it to have devised these complicated manœuvres -for getting Cecil out of the way, if he could not proceed with the -designs he had formed against her pupil? Worse than this, he felt a -presentiment that in her wrath and disappointment Jamileh Khanum would -try to do the work herself, in some clumsy inartistic way that would -lead to the ruin of the whole scheme, and he was right. -</p> - -<p> -Now that the harem procession had rejoined that of his Excellency, no -further stay was made in the mountains, and the whole cavalcade -proceeded on its way towards Baghdad. At one of the towns through -which it passed a fair was being held, and the Pasha consented that -half a day should be spent in this place, at the earnest request of -the master of the horse, who saw a chance of replenishing the Palace -stables at moderate cost. The decision was not quite so satisfactory -to the merchants and country-people who had brought horses to sell at -the fair, for they foresaw an unequal contest, in which their wares -would be taken from them at such prices as seemed good to the master -of the horse, with all the power of the Pasha behind him. With many -laments, therefore, they settled in their own minds the bribe which -must be offered to the official in order to secure his meeting their -views in each case, and bemoaned their hard lot in coming to the fair -just as his Excellency was passing through the town. But to Jamileh -Khanum the fair presented itself as offering a providential solution -of a difficulty. Taking counsel with no one, she intrusted her chief -aga with a confidential commission to buy for her the handsomest and -wickedest Kurdish pony he could find, and to have it fitted with -saddle and bridle of the finest materials and workmanship regardless -of expense. Her order was carried out to the letter. The aga secured a -pony which bore the worst of reputations from all its owners, for it -had already changed hands repeatedly, and would have been got rid of -as useless had it not been for its beauty. Its chief merit with -reference to the particular end in view was the general testimony that -these peculiarities of character did not become evident until the -intending rider was in the saddle, and the chief aga rubbed his hands -with delight as he superintended the decking of the animal with the -most gorgeous trappings he could procure. -</p> - -<p> -“The Khanum Effendi will be well pleased,” he muttered to himself, -feeling already in his hand the bakhshish which his mistress placed -there a short time afterwards, when she had inspected the pony and -heard its record. The next step was to send it round to Azim Bey’s -quarters as a present from his stepmother, and had he been in reality -the guileless child that Jamileh Khanum trusted he might show himself, -his career would probably have ended as abruptly as she wished. But he -was to the full as wily and as suspicious as herself, and the mere -circumstance of her sending him a present was sufficient to put him on -his guard. He sent his thanks to the donor in the most orthodox way, -walked round the pony in delight, examining its beauties, and called -little Ishak, the slipper-bearer. -</p> - -<p> -“Mount the pony for me, O Ishak,” he said, “and ride him round the -courtyard, that I may see his paces.” -</p> - -<p> -“Upon my head be it, O my lord,” responded Ishak, and did his best to -obey. But no sooner was he mounted than the animal gave a complicated -bound, something between a standing leap, a wriggle, and a buck-jump, -and Ishak came to the ground with a crash. -</p> - -<p> -“God is great!” burst from Masûd. “What wisdom is this of my lord’s?” -</p> - -<p> -“Take him up, and send for the <i>hakim bashi</i>,” said Azim Bey, “and -take care that the pony is kept for the Pasha to see.” -</p> - -<p> -Severe concussion of the brain was the result of the experiment on -poor little Ishak’s part, but the <i>hakim bashi</i> pointed out that to -any one but a negro the blow would have meant almost certain death, a -fact which spoke volumes to the Pasha. His Excellency accepted the -warning thus conveyed, for he had felt anxious about his son’s safety -ever since he had heard of Cecil’s illness. Had the report of the case -reached him on the authority of Jamileh Khanum alone, he would not -have believed it; but when, at her earnest request, he had sent his -own physician to see Mdlle. Antaza, and he confirmed her account, he -could not well refuse the governess a few weeks of rest, even at the -cost of danger to Azim Bey. Now he resolved to keep the boy with him -constantly until Cecil’s return, and never to allow him out of his -sight. -</p> - -<p> -Under these circumstances Azim Bey made sure that he should be able to -secure Cecil’s recall at once; but in this he was reckoning without -his host, as he found when he tried to approach the subject with his -father. He supposed that he had only to tell the Pasha that the Khanum -Effendi was keeping mademoiselle a prisoner at Sardiyeh for her to be -released immediately; but to his amazement and mortification he was -merely told that it was not so at all—that mademoiselle was taking a -little rest by the doctor’s orders, and could not return to Baghdad -for the present. To be treated like a child in this way was -sufficiently annoying, but it was worse to feel conscious the whole -time that if he only dared to say what he knew, matters would be set -right. But this was impossible. He was afraid to tell his father of -Charlie’s return and death, lest he should get into trouble for his -share in the latter; and he had also a very real fear that M. -Karalampi might revenge himself upon him afterwards, now that he was -so completely in his power. His entreaties that Cecil might be allowed -to rejoin him were thus made in vain, for the Pasha, ignorant of any -reason for her prostrate state, could only attribute it, as the <i>hakim -bashi</i> had done, to an overworked brain and incipient madness. -Complete rest for a short time was the only thing that could be tried; -and the Pasha intended, though he did not tell his son this, to send -the physician again to Sardiyeh in the course of a few weeks, that he -might examine the patient anew, and judge if there were any hope of -her recovery. This being the case, the boy’s constant references to -his governess became rather wearisome to the Pasha, and after several -valiant attempts to press the subject on his father’s attention, Azim -Bey found himself peremptorily silenced, and forbidden to allude to it -again. When they reached Baghdad he was watched over much too closely -to allow of his speaking either to Sir Dugald or Lady Haigh, and thus -his second avenue of escape was closed. The <i>hakim bashi</i> was sent to -the Residency to tell the Balio Bey that Mdlle. Antaza had been ill, -and was spending some time longer in the mountains for rest and -change, and it did not occur to any one that there was anything -strange underlying this apparently straightforward message. -</p> - -<p> -Any anxiety which was felt at the Residency at this time was entirely -on Charlie’s account. Lady Haigh had not heard from him for months, -and no letters from him to Cecil had passed through Sir Dugald’s -hands. It was supposed, however, that she had written to tell him of -the plan of spending the summer in the hills, and that he had found -some new channel of communication with her by way of Mosul or -Erzeroum, while he was probably so busy at home in having his house -done up that he had no time to write to other people. In this happy -confidence Lady Haigh remained until she received a letter from Mrs -Howard White, who with her husband had spent a few days at the -Residency on her homeward journey from Hillah, and was now in England. -Lady Haigh took up the letter and opened it with somewhat languid -interest, anticipating nothing more than a graceful acknowledgment of -her kind hospitality, and some information as to the light in which -Professor Howard White’s discoveries were regarded by the learned -world. But after a very brief message of thanks, the writer dashed at -once into another subject. -</p> - -<p> -“... I feel that I must write to you,” she said, “and only hope that -my warning may prove to be unnecessary. It will be news to you to hear -that your cousin, Dr Egerton, was in Hillah just before we left it, -disguised as an Armenian trader. At his earnest request I arranged a -meeting between him and Miss Anstruther in my house, but they had no -private conversation, owing to the presence of Miss Anstruther’s -pupil. It is my impression that the secret remained undiscovered by -Azim Bey, but I cannot be sure of this. Dr Egerton avowed to me the -next day his intention of following, unknown to her, the Pasha’s -caravan, in which Miss Anstruther was travelling, and I was unable to -dissuade him from it. I promised to keep his secret, lest Sir Dugald -should interfere with the scheme, but now that so long a time has -elapsed without any news of him, I feel it only right to tell you all -I know in order that inquiries may be made. I understand that Dr -Egerton has not returned home, and that neither his aunt nor Miss -Anstruther’s family know anything of his movements....” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Haigh read the letter through with a face of horror, and rushed -with it to Sir Dugald’s office. -</p> - -<p> -“Read that, Dugald!” she cried, flinging it down before him, “and then -leave those papers and go and see the Pasha at once. You must do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“H’m,” said Sir Dugald, lifting his eyebrows as he took up the letter; -“the doctor in trouble again, I suppose? Ah!” as he read it, “this is -what Miss Anstruther was afraid of, is it? Poor girl! It might be the -best thing for her that he should disappear;” but he rose, -nevertheless, and began to put away his papers. -</p> - -<p> -“What a mercy that Cecil is not here!” burst from Lady Haigh. “The -anxiety would kill her. I only hope that she will stay quietly in the -mountains until we hear something certain. Do go, Dugald.” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Dugald was already starting, and reached the Palace unheralded, -regardless of the etiquette for which he was generally so rigorous a -stickler. The Pasha received him with some trepidation. As soon as his -Excellency was told that the Balio Bey wished to see him, an uneasy -conscience led him to recall uncomfortably a few of his recent acts of -government, and in particular to wonder whether the length of Jamileh -Khanum’s latest dressmaker’s bill, and the means adopted to satisfy -the Parisian firm interested, had become public. He was -proportionately relieved on finding that Sir Dugald’s visit had -nothing to do with any of his own peccadilloes, but concerned only the -English doctor, whose existence, as well as his sudden departure from -Baghdad, the Pasha had forgotten long ago. Little time was needed to -show that his Excellency knew nothing of Dr Egerton’s proceedings or -of his fate. -</p> - -<p> -“I must ask your Excellency to let Azim Bey be summoned,” said Sir -Dugald, when he had satisfied himself of the Pasha’s innocence. “No -stone must be left unturned to solve this mystery.” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey was sent for, and presently appeared, attended by Masûd. -Glancing from one to the other of the occupants of the room, and -noticing that his father looked perturbed and the Balio Bey stern, he -felt a sudden conviction that the reward of his youthful misdeeds was -at hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Question my son yourself, my dear Balio,” said the Pasha, in his most -urbane manner; and the culprit, shaking with misgiving, found himself -set down opposite the terrible Balio Bey, who looked at him fixedly -for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Bey,” he said at last, “where is Dr Egerton?” -</p> - -<p> -Azim Bey’s courage was rapidly oozing away, but he made a brave -attempt to turn the question aside in a sportive and natural manner. -</p> - -<p> -“How, then?” he asked. “Do you ask me about Dr Egerton, M. le Balio? -Surely it is said that no Englishman can enter the pashalik without -your knowing all about him at once?” -</p> - -<p> -“In this case it is more to the point that you knew him to be in the -pashalik,” replied Sir Dugald; and Azim Bey, seeing that he had -betrayed himself, looked blank. “I know very well,” continued the -Balio, taking a bold step in his turn, and fixing his eyes on the -boy’s face, “that you saw him in disguise at Hillah and recognised -him, and that you then gave instructions respecting him to some of his -Excellency’s dependents. What were those orders, and where is Dr -Egerton now?” -</p> - -<p> -Quick as lightning the thought darted into Azim Bey’s head that he had -been betrayed. Not perceiving that what had been said was the result -of a shrewd guess on Sir Dugald’s part, he leaped to the conclusion -that Ishak had been questioned and had implicated him in his answers, -and it seemed to him immediately that the whole plot must be known. -</p> - -<p> -“He is dead,” he murmured, with hanging head. The effect upon his -auditor made Azim Bey perceive too late that he had again incriminated -himself unnecessarily. -</p> - -<p> -“Dead!” cried Sir Dugald, in a voice that made the Pasha jump. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes—Oh, M. le Balio, that was not my fault. I hated him, and I -wanted the Kurds to take him prisoner, and they murdered him. I did -not want him to die—indeed I did not—I did not mean to have him -killed.” -</p> - -<p> -“But this is impossible!” cried the Pasha. “What could make you hate -this English gentleman, my son?” -</p> - -<p> -“I hated him because mademoiselle was in love with him,” returned the -boy without hesitation. His father looked scandalised, and Sir Dugald -frowned heavily. -</p> - -<p> -“There is no need whatever to bring Miss Anstruther’s name into the -conversation,” he said, adding, as he turned to the Pasha, “I cannot -conceive that these are the real facts of the case, your Excellency. -It seems to me that Azim Bey must have been used as a tool by some -enemy of Dr Egerton’s.” -</p> - -<p> -“But indeed it is not so, M. le Balio,” Azim Bey protested eagerly. -“It was I who hated him, and when mad—I mean when <i>she</i> was angry -with me about him, I spoke to M. Karalampi, and he made the people of -the city hate him, so that he had to leave Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” broke from Sir Dugald, while the Pasha was silent through sheer -astonishment, the minds of both going back to the mysterious events -which had preceded Charlie Egerton’s departure. Sir Dugald recovered -himself first. -</p> - -<p> -“And Karalampi has been your agent in these last negotiations also, -Bey? I thought so. Your Excellency,” he said to the Pasha, “I must ask -you to have M. Karalampi arrested and brought here at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“The order shall be sent immediately,” said the Pasha, and he called -Ovannes Effendi from the anteroom. While the necessary directions were -being given, Azim Bey crept close to Sir Dugald. -</p> - -<p> -“M. le Balio, you will ask my father to let mademoiselle come back -from Sardiyeh now?” he asked, anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not,” replied Sir Dugald, emphatically. “I am most thankful -to think that Miss Anstruther is out of the way for the present. I -shall not advise her to return until this matter has been inquired -into.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, monsieur, but——” began Azim Bey; but Sir Dugald cut him short, -and took his leave of the Pasha, requesting to be summoned as soon as -M. Karalampi arrived. To Lady Haigh he made as light of the matter as -he could, protesting that in Azim Bey’s case he believed that the wish -for Charlie’s death was father to the thought, but in his own mind he -had very little doubt that the news was true. The mutual dislike of M. -Karalampi and Charlie had not escaped his notice, and he felt that it -was extremely probable that the Greek had taken the opportunity of -carrying out his compact with Azim Bey a little too well. While -waiting for him to be arrested and brought down to Baghdad, Sir Dugald -collected a good deal of information which corroborated the boy’s -account of the intrigue by which Charlie had been driven from his -post, and he awaited the arrival of the prisoner with the comfortable -conviction that there was very nearly evidence enough to hang him -already. But the expected summons to the Palace to confront the -accused did not come, and Sir Dugald grew impatient. At last he went -himself to speak to the Pasha on the subject, but in the anteroom he -was seized upon by Azim Bey. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, M. le Balio, you would not come, and I could not go to see you. -He has been here, and my father has let him go again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who? Karalampi?” cried Sir Dugald. “Tell me what you mean.” -</p> - -<p> -They sat down on the divan, and Azim Bey poured his tale into the -Balio’s ear. How M. Karalampi had arrived, all unconscious of the -reason for the summons, from his post in the mountains, and had found -himself accused of plotting Dr Egerton’s murder. How he had protested -his innocence, and had promised to bring proofs of it, if he were -allowed to go back to the mountains with an escort and penetrate into -the Kurdish fastnesses. How the Pasha had demurred to this, but had -yielded on M. Karalampi’s declaring that otherwise he would make a -clean breast of everything to the Balio Bey, and involve Jamileh -Khanum in his disclosures. This was the only card he had to play, but, -thanks to the Pasha’s agonised desire to prevent scandal, it was -successful, and he was allowed to depart, under strict supervision. -Sir Dugald listened with lowering brow, and when the recital was ended -he rose from his seat with a fixed resolve to see the Pasha and thresh -the matter out with him, but Azim Bey was still clinging to his arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, M. le Balio, bring mademoiselle back. They are keeping her in -prison there at Sardiyeh, and it is only this—the death of Dr -Egerton—that has made her ill.” -</p> - -<p> -“What? she knows already? and the poor girl is all alone up there!” -cried Sir Dugald, and he strode into the Pasha’s presence with a frown -which made his Excellency tremble. His demand that Cecil should be -sent for was at once granted, and an escort despatched to bring her -from Sardiyeh to Baghdad. But Sir Dugald had been forestalled. The -news of what had been happening had reached the harem, and had caused -a vast amount of commotion there, together with much coming and going -of Mdlle. Katrina, imperfectly disguised in a voluminous sheet, -between her mistress and M. Karalampi, during the short time that he -spent in the city. The result was that an order had been sent to -Sardiyeh, which reached it two days before the Pasha’s. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch26"> -CHAPTER XXVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A DREAD TRIBUNAL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> Jamileh Khanum’s message reached Sardiyeh, it put an end at -once to the tranquil and monotonous life which the two captives had -been leading. They were informed late in the evening, immediately -after the arrival of the courier, that they must prepare to start on a -journey early the next morning, but they sought in vain from their -gaolers for particulars of their destination, and for the reason of -the sudden move. At first they consoled themselves under this -taciturnity by mutual assurances that when they had once started they -would certainly be able to discover at least the general direction of -their march from the features of the country and the course of the -sun; but when the time for the journey came, they found that this -solace was to be denied them. A mule-litter was brought into the -courtyard—not a gorgeous <i>takhtrevan</i> like that in which Jamileh -Khanum queened it at the head of the harem procession, but a far -humbler contrivance—and they were assisted to mount into it. It -consisted simply of two large panniers, or <i>kajavahs</i>, suspended one -on either side of a tall and sturdy mule, and surmounted by a high -framework of cane, covered in and curtained all round with thick -haircloth, so that the occupants found themselves in a kind of small -dark tent, with the mule’s back between them as a table. The position -in which they were obliged to remain was an exceedingly cramped and -uncomfortable one, more especially to Cecil, since her pannier had to -be weighted with several large stones in order to balance Um Yusuf’s, -the good woman being much heavier than her mistress. The rough -curtains promised certainly to be useful in keeping out the cold -mountain winds, for it was now winter, and in this highland district -the snow was on the ground, but they would also prevent entirely any -sight of the scenery passed on the road. For the moment, however, they -were left undrawn, while the agas were busy seeing to the loading of -the baggage-mules, and Cecil took a last look through the open doorway -of the court at the white houses of the little town, and at the -frowning mountains beyond, in some cleft of which was Charlie’s -nameless grave. -</p> - -<p> -“It is like leaving home again, Um Yusuf,” she said, with tears in her -eyes. “I should like to stay here always.” -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps Um Yusuf, like Lady Haigh, detested sentiment. At any rate, -she disliked the mountains very heartily, and she answered rather -snappishly— -</p> - -<p> -“You do no good here, mademoiselle. Once we leave this horrid place, -you get plenty work to do, feel better.” -</p> - -<p> -Here the agas came and drew close the black curtains, and the mule -started off, led by a stalwart villager, who had been impressed into -the Pasha’s service, and whose guttural remarks to the animal were the -chief sounds that reached the ears of the two captives during the next -fortnight, after which he was allowed to return to his home as best he -might. The journey, which was carried on under such uncomfortable -conditions for Cecil and Um Yusuf, lasted in all sixteen days, during -which time they never obtained an inkling of their destination, -knowing only that their caravan was kept persistently on the march -during the hours of daylight. At night a tent was pitched for them, in -which they found their own mattresses and other baggage; and with -respect to food, they fared as well as did their guards, who exacted -from the peasantry in the Pasha’s name whatever they desired. They -never halted at night until after the sun was set; and whenever in the -early morning they succeeded, as they passed from the tent to the -litter, in obtaining a glimpse of the surrounding scenery, it was -always unfamiliar to both of them. When on the march, it was possible -for them to tell whether the mule was going up or down hill, and also -whether the road traversed was smooth or rough or slippery, but these -changes were far too frequent and bewildering to be any guide as to -the locality. -</p> - -<p> -When they had journeyed on for about ten days, the prisoners noticed a -great change in their surroundings, much more bustle and conversation -being perceptible about them than before. After much careful -listening, they became aware that their caravan had joined another and -a much larger one, in which women’s voices, all speaking Kurdish, were -distinctly audible. That night they rested at a wayside khan, instead -of in tents; and although a compartment of the building, called by -courtesy a room, was specially reserved for Cecil and her maid, it was -invaded, in the temporary absence of the agas, by several of the -Kurdish ladies, who came to stare at their fellow-travellers. They -seemed to wish to be friendly, but as neither party knew anything of -the other’s language, the only possible approach to communication was -to smile affably at one another and exchange gestures of mutual -goodwill. One of the visitors brought with her her baby, which was -suffering from ophthalmia; and when they were gone, Cecil bethought -her of a little bottle of eye-water among her possessions, and -despatched Um Yusuf after them to offer it to the mother. The -attention seemed to be appreciated, for the chief of the Kurdish -ladies sent them presently, through one of the agas, a dish from her -own supper, and Cecil overlooked the extremely doubtful and untempting -nature of the gift in view of the kindness intended. While she nibbled -daintily at one or two fragments chosen from the mass, and Um Yusuf -ate her way steadily through it, it struck Cecil to ask whether her -maid had found any one among the strangers’ slaves able to speak -Arabic or Turkish. Um Yusuf shook her head, but Cecil, knowing the -marvellous freemasonry of signs by which the servants of different -nationalities were able to carry on whole conversations without -uttering a word, asked whether she had discovered anything about the -Kurdish ladies. -</p> - -<p> -“They prisoners, like us,” said Um Yusuf, withdrawing her attention -for a moment from the tray of food. “They come from the mountains, but -not know where they go. Chief lady’s husband very great man, but I -think he killed or in prison. Ladies all hate Pasha very much.” -</p> - -<p> -This was all that the two captives could learn from their companions -in misfortune, but both parties felt some consolation in each other’s -presence. The agas appeared to have no objection to their charges -mingling with the Kurdish ladies, probably considering that little -mischief could be done without the aid of the tongue, and Cecil found -herself installed as consulting physician to her new friends, thanks -to her eye-water, which showed signs of effecting a cure. With other -ailments she was not so successful, owing to the difficulty of -discovering symptoms by the aid of signs alone; but the mountain -ladies held her in prodigious respect, and acquiesced cheerfully in -the keeping for her of the best room every night at the khan, even -going out of their way to do her little kindnesses. Thus the days went -on until one afternoon when Um Yusuf and her mistress, jogging along -in their respective <i>kajavahs</i>, heard one of the agas say to the -other— -</p> - -<p> -“Go to the leader of the caravan, O Mansûr, and urge him to push on, -that we may reach the city by sunset, for there is a storm coming up.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil and Um Yusuf looked across at one another in the twilight of -their moving tent with a sudden tightening of the breath, and their -hands met mechanically in a convulsive clasp. They were nearing a -city, and therefore some change, possibly some crisis, was at hand. It -was with the most strained interest that they observed the mule’s -stately pace quicken gradually, and heard the shouts and blows of the -camel-drivers around them, as they urged on their animals. After a -time there came a pause, in which the shouting and quarrelling that -generally marked the progress of the caravan seemed to grow louder. -</p> - -<p> -“A block at the gate,” said Cecil in a voice of subdued eagerness, and -presently the caravan moved on again, and the travellers became -conscious of the hum of a great city all around them. But there was -nothing to tell them where they were. The babel of many tongues which -met their ears might belong to almost any city in the East; and the -call of a muezzin, which forced itself upon their hearing from the -minaret of a mosque as they passed along, was as little distinctive. -Immediately afterwards they turned into a stone-paved court, passed -through various doorways and passages, and finally stopped in another -courtyard. One of the agas drew back the curtains, and Cecil, with -beating heart, allowed herself to be helped down, and looked round in -a tumult of anticipation. What she expected to see she could not have -told, but the reality which met her eyes was disappointing. It was -neither familiar nor out of the way, merely the inner court of an -ordinary whitewashed house, which, for all its distinctive -peculiarities, might have been found in any city of South-Western Asia -or Northern Africa. Above was a stormy sky, in which black rolling -clouds were fast obscuring the rays of the setting sun. Standing -beside the mule were the two agas, engaged in giving confidential -directions to a middle-aged negress of a peculiarly stolid and sturdy -type, while Um Yusuf, just helped down from her perch, was sitting on -the ground and groaning out that she had the cramp all over her limbs. -There was no sign of the friendly Kurdish ladies, no trace of any -inhabitants other than their own party in the house. As Cecil realised -this, the agas, having finished their colloquy, led the mule out of -the yard, and the prisoners found themselves left alone with the -negress, who motioned to them silently to follow her. They obeyed -disconsolately enough, and she led them through several passages to a -tiny room with one window high up in the wall. Here she left them, -returning presently to bring in coffee and a dish of food, uncertain -in its nature and by no means captivating in its appearance, and then -departing again. Um Yusuf slipped out immediately, and Cecil divined -that she was going to try her powers of fascination on their guide. -But she returned discouraged. -</p> - -<p> -“She not tell anything,” she observed, morosely. “Worse than the -Kurds; they not able to talk. There! you hear, mademoiselle? She lock -us in.” -</p> - -<p> -The grating of the ponderous key in its complicated lock was -distinctly audible, and Cecil resigned herself with a sigh to the hard -fact that it was absolutely impossible to obtain any clue to their -whereabouts that night. When they had partaken of their untempting -repast, Um Yusuf unrolled and spread out the bedding, but the storm -had begun, and the gusts of wind which shook the house were so violent -that neither she nor her mistress felt inclined to sleep. -</p> - -<p> -“Where are we, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil. Um Yusuf cast up her eyes and -lifted her empty hands to indicate absolute ignorance. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think they can have taken us across the mountains to -Sulaminyeh?” pursued Cecil, putting into words a fear which had begun -to haunt her. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, mademoiselle, that what I think,” returned Um Yusuf. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was silent, listening to the patter and swish of the storm, and -the fall of the plaster from the ceiling. The wind moaned and howled, -and seemed to be almost strong enough to tear the house from its -foundations, while over all there came a loud rushing sound, now close -at hand, now farther off, like that of water lashed into fury by a -tempest. She did not recognise it at first, but it occurred to her -suddenly what it was. -</p> - -<p> -“Listen!” she said to Um Yusuf, glad of any pretext for doubting the -dreadful suggestion which she had herself made. “I am sure I hear the -sound of waves washing up against the walls. The house must be on the -river somewhere. Can we be at Mohammerah?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, mademoiselle; we not passed the marshes, and journey not long -enough. I think this Sulaminyeh. Why not river there?” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil shuddered. To be imprisoned in the heart of Kurdistan, many long -miles away from any English or even European official, with no one to -whom to appeal for protection or justice, was not a comfortable -prospect. She said no more to Um Yusuf, and at last, as they sat side -by side upon their mattresses, she dropped asleep, lulled by the -howling of the wind. After what seemed only a few minutes, though she -knew later that it must have been some hours, she awoke with a start, -to find that it was broad daylight, and that Um Yusuf was standing -beside her with an excited face. -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle, we in the plains again, not at Sulaminyeh. That storm -not rain at all, dust-storm. I think this place Mosul. When dust fall -about in the night, I think it only stuff off walls, but now I look, -see it all thick on everything. You see this?” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil sat up, and gazed in bewilderment at the handful of dust and -sand which Um Yusuf had gathered up as a precious treasure. Then she -recognised the maid’s allusion to the dust-storms peculiar to the -Euphrates Valley, and conceived for the handful of dust an affection -akin to that which Noah must have felt for the olive-leaf brought him -by the dove. The fact that everything in the room was covered with -gritty sand, and that it had made its way into her hair and clothes, -was not worthy of notice in view of this discovery, and she and Um -Yusuf made a rather difficult toilet with thankful hearts. They -breakfasted on the remains of their last night’s supper, which had -fortunately been covered up and had thus escaped the dust, and -immediately afterwards the unattractive negress who had been their -guide the night before unlocked the door and came in with a great -bundle in her arms. -</p> - -<p> -“It is commanded thee to put on these clothes, O my mistress,” she -said in Arabic, dumping down the bundle before Cecil, and retiring -forthwith. -</p> - -<p> -Much mystified, Cecil helped Um Yusuf to undo the bundle, and drew out -of it one of the long loose gowns with square-cut neck and wide -hanging sleeves, worn by Turkish ladies of the old school. It was of -blue silk interwoven with silver threads, and to wear with it there -was a vest or chemisette of delicate straw-coloured gauze, and a round -velvet cap decorated with silver coins. The two women gazed at one -another in astonishment as they unfolded the garments and smoothed -them out. -</p> - -<p> -“What does it mean, Um Yusuf?” asked Cecil, almost in a whisper. -</p> - -<p> -“It look to me like wedding-dress, mademoiselle,” responded Um Yusuf, -in the same awed tones. “Perhaps you going to be married.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is absurd, Um Yusuf,” said Cecil, with unusual sharpness. “But I -won’t put it on, at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -Presently the negress returned, and after a glance of surprise at the -neglected finery, informed Cecil that the great ladies commanded her -attendance. -</p> - -<p> -“What ladies?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -To her amazement the woman replied— -</p> - -<p> -“The Um-ul-Pasha and the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi.” This was Jamileh -Khanum’s official title. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s spirits rose with a bound. Here, at any rate, were foemen -worthy of her steel, which was certainly not the case with the agas, -who could only answer, “Khanum Effendi’s orders,” to all -remonstrances, and she sprang up to follow the negress with keen -anticipations of a coming struggle. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps they are come to Mosul for Azim Bey’s wedding with Safieh -Khanum,” she whispered to Um Yusuf; but the good woman shook her head -in perplexity. -</p> - -<p> -“Azim Bey not to be married until he seventeen,” she began, but just -then their guide drew back a curtain and ushered them into the -presence of the great ladies. Cecil had made up her mind what to do. -The moment she observed that neither of the ladies made any reply or -return to her salaam and salutation, she sat down at once without -waiting to be invited, regardless of the contrast afforded by her -travel-stained blue wrapper and yellow slippers to the wadded and -fur-trimmed pelisse and trousers of green satin which formed the -winter dress of the Um-ul-Pasha, or to Jamileh Khanum’s Parisian -morning-robe of petunia velvet, with its front of costly lace. The -ladies sat at the upper end of the room, facing her, the Um-ul-Pasha -in the seat of honour in the corner of the divan, her daughter-in-law -beside her. At a respectful distance sat Mdlle. Katrina, palpitating -with eagerness. To this excellent woman conspiracy was the very breath -of life. She would have plotted against herself cheerfully if she -could by any means have imported sufficient mystery into the -proceedings, and she had been the Um-ul-Pasha’s go-between with the -outer world throughout her long series of plots. At her mistress’s -command she now set to work to interpret her words to Cecil without -further parley. -</p> - -<p> -“Why have you not put on the clothes I sent you, mademoiselle?” was -the first question. -</p> - -<p> -“Because they are not suited to my circumstances,” Cecil replied at -once. “I am a stranger and a prisoner, and the clothes seem to be -intended for a festival.” -</p> - -<p> -“What has that to do with you?” asked the Um-ul-Pasha. “Do you wish to -scorn my gifts, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not, your Excellency,” responded Cecil, politely. “I only -wish to be sure that there are no conditions attaching to them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle, your tone is unsuitable. Know then, that now that your -term of service in the household of my son, the Pasha, has expired, I -have determined to provide suitably for you, and I have found you a -husband, who is willing to take you on my recommendation. And let me -tell you, mademoiselle, that without my recommendation you would have -had little chance indeed of obtaining a husband at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am extremely grateful for the Um-ul-Pasha’s kind intentions, but I -must respectfully decline her offer,” said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“And why, pray?” demanded the old lady, through her interpreter. “Your -betrothed husband is dead, so what obstacle is there?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dr Egerton may be dead,” returned Cecil, her eyes filling with tears -at this rough mention of her loss, “but that does not alter my -feelings towards him. My heart is his still, and I will not marry any -one else.” -</p> - -<p> -“But we will make you,” cried Jamileh Khanum. -</p> - -<p> -“You ought to know, Khanum, that a British subject cannot be legally -married out here except under the British flag,” said Cecil, somewhat -more calmly. -</p> - -<p> -“Bah! who is to know or care whether the marriage is legal or not?” -demanded Jamileh Khanum, contemptuously. -</p> - -<p> -“There is a British vice-consul in Mosul, and I will appeal to him,” -said Cecil, her colour rising angrily. The affair was becoming -absurdly and irritatingly melodramatic, and she found it difficult to -keep her own part of the conversation to the everyday level that she -felt was safest. -</p> - -<p> -“You speak like a fool,” said the Um-ul-Pasha. “As yet, praise be to -God! our harems are sacred from the infidel. We will give out that you -are a Yezidi captive, and the Frangis cannot touch you.” -</p> - -<p> -“That will not help you,” said Cecil, as coolly as she could. “Do you -think for a moment that when the bride’s proxies came to demand my -consent to the marriage, anything would make me give it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” said Jamileh Khanum. “We could force you to give it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Could you?” said Cecil, very quietly. “Perhaps you would like to -try?” -</p> - -<p> -She looked so absolutely undaunted as she sat facing them, every nerve -on the stretch with excitement, a red spot burning on either cheek, -that her opponents felt an uncomfortable sensation of approaching -defeat. Was it possible that the Frangi woman was going to defy them -after all? They had thought of her as a gentle, timid creature, -amenable to the slightest pressure after the troubles she had gone -through, but the reality was disappointing. The intended victim had -risen to the occasion, and was ready to fight to the last, and the two -ladies on the divan turned from her and began a hasty conversation, -most of which was perfectly audible to Cecil. Indeed, but for the sake -of the Um-ul-Pasha’s dignity, which she conceived made it derogatory -to her to speak directly to the infidel, the interpreter would have -been unnecessary throughout. -</p> - -<p> -“What are we to do? This will spoil everything,” said the Um-ul-Pasha. -</p> - -<p> -“Starve her, break her spirit!” cried Jamileh Khanum. -</p> - -<p> -“But there is no time,” objected the Um-ul-Pasha. “Whatever we do must -be done at once. Let us send for Azim Bey, and bid him devise a plan -to set things right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Never!” cried Jamileh Khanum, fiercely. “What! shall that young -Shaitan laugh at my son’s beard?” This was a bold figure of speech, -for little Najib Bey was barely two years old. “Let us send the Frangi -woman a cup of coffee.” -</p> - -<p> -“Art thou mad?” cried the Um-ul-Pasha, aghast at the sinister -suggestion. “Are we not yet deep enough in disgrace with my son, and -shall we bring the wrath of the Balio Bey upon our heads as well? I -tell thee this is our only chance. The boy has a wise head, and for -the sake of his family will devise some scheme by which our credit may -be saved and all set right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do as thou wilt,” said Jamileh Khanum; “I will have no hand in it,” -and she rose and swept from the room, flinging a curse at Cecil as she -went. Presently the Um-ul-Pasha and Mdlle. Katrina followed her out, -and Cecil and Um Yusuf were left alone, waiting in breathless -expectancy. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch27"> -CHAPTER XXVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">PRACTICAL JOKES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> seemed a very long time that the two prisoners waited alone, and -it was indeed long enough for the momentary excitement to pass away, -and for Cecil to realise how very little she had to support her, in -spite of her valiant words, beyond her innate British pluck and a -determination not to be bullied. Um Yusuf was not a comforting -companion. She passed the time in giving utterance to doleful -prognostications, covering most of the contingencies which could -reasonably be expected to occur under the circumstances, and ending up -with— -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, mademoiselle, this quite fixed in my mind. Not you nor I shall -eat one morsel nor drink one drop more in this house.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Cecil, with a half-hearted attempt to turn the affair -into a joke, “if we must choose between being starved and poisoned, Um -Yusuf, I think the poisoning would be less painful in the end. It -would certainly be quicker.” -</p> - -<p> -Um Yusuf gave a contemptuous sniff at her mistress’s flippancy, and -they waited in silence, until there was a sound of hurrying footsteps -in the passage. Then the curtain was pulled aside, and Azim Bey darted -in, radiant with smiles, while behind him appeared the faithful -Masûd, grinning from ear to ear. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, mademoiselle, my dear mademoiselle!” cried the boy, rushing to -kiss Cecil’s hand. “They have brought you back at last, then? But you -have been ill—they have ill-treated you? Ah! they shall pay for it. -But all is right now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not all, Bey,” said Cecil, grieved that he should so soon have -forgotten the tragedy of the Kurdish hills, but he was too much -excited to listen. -</p> - -<p> -“Come, mademoiselle, don’t stay in this wretched place. You will trust -yourself in the <i>kajavahs</i> once more, if I ride by the side of the -mule? There is a ridiculous formality to go through, and I want to get -it over. My grandmother has promised you in marriage to a certain man, -and he will not accept his dismissal from any lips but your own. That -will not take long to do, will it, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not,” said Cecil, astonished at this sudden development of -affairs, and smiling down at her pupil as he led her out. But at the -door he stopped and looked her over with a dissatisfied face. -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle, your clothes are so old, so dusty. Have they taken away -your other dresses?” -</p> - -<p> -“I really have nothing but what I have on,” said Cecil, lightly. “Our -luggage seems to have gone astray. It doesn’t signify much, though, -does it?” -</p> - -<p> -“But it does, mademoiselle,” returned Azim Bey, with deep seriousness. -“I cannot bear that this man should see you so poorly dressed. You -have to speak to him, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Cecil, “the Um-ul-Pasha sent me a dress this morning -which I refused to touch. If you like, I will put it on, though it -scarcely seems fair to wear the dress she meant for a wedding to -refuse the bridegroom in. What do you think?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, mademoiselle, it is excellent. Do go and put it on at once. I -will wait, only do make haste. I am dancing with excitement.” -</p> - -<p> -Cecil went away smiling to the room where she had passed the night, -and with Um Yusuf’s help no time was lost in putting on the rejected -dress. Over all came the great white sheet in which it had been -wrapped, replacing the old blue wrapper, and Cecil returned to her -pupil, who, if not actually dancing, was certainly fidgeting with -impatience. -</p> - -<p> -“At last, mademoiselle! Oh, come, come.” -</p> - -<p> -“But where are we going, Bey?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“To the Palace, of course, mademoiselle. Where else should we go?” -</p> - -<p> -“But isn’t this Mosul?” she cried. Azim Bey laughed uproariously. -</p> - -<p> -“But, mademoiselle, it is Baghdad—our own beautiful Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the people all talked Kurdish,” gasped Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Because you came down from the mountains with the harem of Khalil -Khan, the Kurdish chief, who is to remain here as a hostage for his -tribe, mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“But where are they now?” -</p> - -<p> -“In the rooms at the other side of this house, mademoiselle. The -Um-ul-Pasha arranged that you should be lodged quite alone this last -night.” -</p> - -<p> -A flood of further questions was trembling on Cecil’s lips, but the -courtyard had now been reached, and the mule-litter was waiting. Cecil -and Um Yusuf were helped into their accustomed seats, to carry on -during the ride an incoherent conversation, marked by bursts of -enlightenment as fresh confirmations of Azim Bey’s words occurred to -them. Arrived at their destination, the Bey met them again, and -seizing Cecil’s hand as soon as she had dismounted, hurried her -through rooms and passages in breathless haste. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, by the bye, mademoiselle,” he said, as they entered the house, -“it was the Um-ul-Pasha’s special wish that I should tell you that the -gentleman you are going to see is the one she meant you to marry.” -</p> - -<p> -“So I understood,” said Cecil, much perplexed. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, well, you can believe it or not, as you like, mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“Bey, what do you mean?” demanded Cecil, pausing to look back and see -whether Um Yusuf was following. “Why shouldn’t I believe it when you -told me so yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, never mind, mademoiselle, only come. It is all right now—all -right,” he repeated. “My heart is almost bursting, I am so happy.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why?” asked Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t help it, mademoiselle, I scarcely know what to do. Now draw -your veil close, we are coming to the <i>selamlik</i>. Dear mademoiselle,” -and he stopped suddenly, “you have quite forgiven me—you are -sure—for <i>his</i> death?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dear boy, why do you remind me of this just now?” asked Cecil, the -tears rising to her eyes once more. “I have forgiven you, long ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“I knew it, mademoiselle, but I wanted to hear you say it again. Go -into that room,” and Azim Bey dashed off with something like a sob. -</p> - -<p> -Sorely puzzled, Cecil advanced in the direction he indicated, and drew -aside the curtain over the doorway. Through the mist of her tears she -saw a gaunt, dark-bearded man, wearing the regulation frock-coat and -fez, standing with his back to her and looking out of the window. -</p> - -<p> -“An Armenian!” she said to herself, perceiving at once the unwelcome -suitor whom she was to put out of his misery. “Monsieur——” -</p> - -<p> -The man turned round, and Cecil stood awestruck and speechless. Had -that rocky grave in the mountains of Kurdistan given up its dead? She -dropped the curtain, and staggered blindly across the floor with -outstretched hands. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Charlie?</i>” she gasped, tremblingly. -</p> - -<p> -The room was reeling with her, but strong arms caught her as she -nearly fell, and the voice she had thought never to hear again was in -her ears. -</p> - -<p> -“Cecil, my own darling, look at me. Don’t cry so dreadfully—it breaks -my heart. Have I frightened you so much?” -</p> - -<p> -“They told me you were dead,” she murmured, when she could still the -long-drawn sobs which broke from her in the stress of that first -recognition. -</p> - -<p> -“And they told me you were going to marry another fellow,” he -retorted, quickly, “but I never believed it. Still, I never thought I -should see you again, my dearest girl.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Hanna saw you killed—at least he saw you dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know how he managed it,” said Charlie, in his driest tones. -</p> - -<p> -“Nor do I,” cried Cecil, with a burst of hysterical laughter. “But you -must have been wounded, Charlie. You could never have been thrown down -that cliff without being hurt. Besides, he saw you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Charlie. “Have you and Hanna been -concocting horrors between you? Don’t you believe now that I am -alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“But I have seen it,” persisted Cecil, “over and over again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, this is hopeless,” said Charlie. “Leave it alone for the present, -my darling, and let us puzzle it out afterwards. Taking it for granted -that I am alive, are you glad to see me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Glad? Oh, Charlie!” Cecil’s tone was answer enough. -</p> - -<p> -“Let me look at you, dear,” she said, after a blissful pause, and -raising her head from his shoulder she scanned his face. Very thin, -very bright-eyed, very weather-beaten, it was the face of the old -Charlie still, but there seemed to her to be in it a strength and a -purpose which it had lacked in former days. -</p> - -<p> -“And you, Cecil? You have been ill, I’m certain. Been crying over me, -thinking I was dead, poor little girl?” and he kissed her tenderly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, what do I signify?” she cried. “Tell me about yourself, Charlie. -Where have you been?” -</p> - -<p> -“In the hills, slave to an old brute of a Kurd named Ismail Khan Beg. -They didn’t treat me badly at first, except that they took away my own -clothes and gave me some of their old ones to wear. When a Kurd has -done with his things, Cecil, I can tell you they are rags and -something more—ugh! Well, they got rather fond of me, because I -doctored them a little, and so on; but it didn’t do me much good after -all, for old Ismail took it into his head to offer to adopt me as his -heir, if I would become a Mohammedan and join the tribe. There was a -giddy pinnacle of success for you, Cecil! but I didn’t mount it, and -they all turned rusty. The less said about the last few months the -better——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear brave boy,” murmured Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, one day a messenger came from the Pasha demanding that I should -be given up to him. It sounded rather like a death-sentence, -remembering the circumstances under which I left Baghdad, but anything -was better than the life I was leading, so I came away in durance -vile. I was brought down here under a very strong guard, with that -fiend Karalampi at the head of it. It was he who told me that lie -about you, and of course I didn’t believe it, but when you cried so on -seeing me I couldn’t tell what to think. Then I was put in prison -here, but this morning they fetched me out and gave me fresh clothes -and let me have a bath. I know now just how Joseph felt when he was -taken out of prison and brought before the king, though Ahmed Khémi -in an awful funk isn’t exactly regal.” -</p> - -<p> -“Take care. There’s some one coming,” said Cecil, moving hastily to -the window, away from Charlie. -</p> - -<p> -“Who cares?” he asked, following her immediately, just as the curtain -at the doorway was drawn aside, and M. Karalampi appeared, escorting -Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p> -“I have the happiness of bringing about a family reunion, M. le -docteur,” observed the Greek to Charlie, as Cecil and her friend -rushed into each other’s arms. Charlie shrugged his shoulders. In this -moment of happiness he could afford to disregard even M. Karalampi, -provided he did not make himself too objectionable. -</p> - -<p> -“And now, Cecil darling,” pursued Lady Haigh, when she had bestowed a -sounding embrace and a burst of tears on Charlie, “come back with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But am I not to stay here?” asked Cecil in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -“Not unless you wish to become an inmate of the harem for the space of -your natural life,” said Lady Haigh. “Why, my dear child, Christmas is -over, and your engagement here is terminated. I suppose you will soon -be homeward bound, but I must have you for a little while at the -Residency first.” -</p> - -<p> -“Allow me to have the felicity of escorting Mdlle. Antaza,” said M. -Karalampi, as Lady Haigh turned to descend to the courtyard. He -offered his arm to Cecil, but Charlie was before him. -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you, but you shall not come between us again,” he said, and M. -Karalampi was fain to practise his chivalry on Lady Haigh. -</p> - -<p class="spacer"> -* * * * * * * -</p> - -<p> -Cecil’s stay at the Residency proved to be an eventful one. Lady Haigh -and Charlie put their heads together, and the results of their -consultation presented themselves in the form of two incompatible -propositions—namely, that it was absolutely necessary that an escort -should be found for Cecil throughout her long journey back to England, -but that there was no prospect that any member of the English colony -would be returning home just at present. The net conclusion of these -contradictory premisses was a self-evident truth, which, as Cecil -said, gave the crown to the bad logic of the whole proceeding. The -only thing to be done was that she and Charlie should be married at -Baghdad, and consider the voyage home in the light of a honeymoon -trip. To every one else this seemed a most fitting solution of the -difficulty, and Cecil acquiesced in it with a submissiveness which -would have astonished herself a year or two before. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not fair of you to take me by surprise in this way now, -Charlie, after all that has happened,” she said. “My pride is broken, -and I don’t mind confessing that I couldn’t part with you again.” -</p> - -<p> -This accommodating spirit was hailed as altogether satisfactory by -Lady Haigh, although she took occasion in private to admonish Cecil -not to make Charlie proud by letting him think that she could not do -without him. This advice was supported by many apposite illustrations, -but Cecil laughed in her sleeve, and contrasted Lady Haigh’s preaching -with her practice, for when she and Sir Dugald were separated, she -could think and speak of little beside him. But having done her duty -and relieved her conscience, the elder lady turned with a glad heart -to the making of preparations for the wedding. Of course the ceremony -was to be performed by Dr Yehudi, and Sir Dugald consented, under -protest, to give away the bride. -</p> - -<p> -“I disapprove of the whole affair,” he said to Charlie, “and I cannot -see why I should be obliged to seem to give my sanction to it. If Miss -Anstruther did me the honour to ask my advice even now, I should feel -bound to advise her to throw you over, but she hasn’t. At any rate, -since she is foolish enough to take you, I have had to give up the -opinion I once held of her good sense.” -</p> - -<p> -“Your bark was always worse than your bite, Sir Dugald,” laughed -Charlie, who had had time to arrive at this conclusion now that he was -no longer on an official footing with the Balio Bey. And indeed Sir -Dugald gave himself infinite trouble in disentangling and setting -right the complicated affairs of the pair, although when he was at -home he entreated his wife to keep those two out of his sight, for -they looked so absurdly happy he could not stand it. -</p> - -<p> -“You will be pleased to know,” he said, coming into the Residency -verandah one day after a lengthy interview with the Pasha at the -Palace, “that all you have gone through is nothing but a series of -practical jokes.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very practical jokes indeed!” said Charlie, growing rather red, while -Cecil, glancing up into Sir Dugald’s impenetrable eyes, saw his -eyebrows twitching at the corners. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Sir Dugald, you are joking!” she cried. -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all,” said Sir Dugald, sitting down in a long wicker chair and -stretching himself luxuriously; “the joke is all on the side of the -Pasha’s household, I assure you. Egerton’s leaving Baghdad was a joke -of Azim Bey’s; so was his capture by the Kurds. His pretended death, -your imprisonment, Miss Anstruther, and the attempt to marry you off -to some native, were little jokes of the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi’s, got -up in pure lightness of heart, just to relieve the monotony of harem -existence. The Um-ul-Pasha shares in the family tastes, so she -co-operated with her Excellency, and Karalampi acted as a kind of -master of the revels, humouring the rest by lending his experience to -make their play more real.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t make out that business about the native,” said Charlie, -meditatively. “We are evidently meant to understand that he was a -myth, and that the Um-ul-Pasha intended all along to play the part of -a fairy godmother, and bring us together again. Is it so?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit,” said Sir Dugald. “The fellow was a flesh-and-blood -reality. I believe he is some relation to the Levantine woman who has -done all the Um-ul-Pasha’s dirty work in this business.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mdlle. Katrina’s nephew!” cried Cecil, in mingled astonishment and -disgust. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, the plan was very complete,” said Sir Dugald. “And it was -splendidly managed!” he cried, with the admiration of an accomplished -artist for the masterpiece of a fellow-craftsman. “The way all the -parts dovetail into one another is so good. Why, if it had not been -for that utterly unexpected letter from Mrs Howard White, we might -never have been the wiser! Just think of it, Miss Anstruther. There -was Egerton up in the mountains, unable to escape or to communicate -with me. There were you at Sardiyeh, miles away from Egerton in -reality, and practically much more, since your gaolers were Turks and -his Kurds. Still, you would have been pretty sure to have made -inquiries and discovered where he was, and to have found some way of -communicating with him, as long as you thought he was alive, so you -had to believe him dead. That, again, was excellently done. To dress -up some dead body in Egerton’s clothes, pitch it over the cliff, and -show it to Hanna as his master’s, was very good, but it was still -better to let him escape and tell his tale, and best of all to secure -him and put him in safe keeping as soon as it was done. That disposed -of both of you, besides working off Karalampi’s little grudges. He -felt quite safe, for he had Azim Bey’s authority for a good deal, and -he knew that he would not dare to say anything about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what was the good of it all?” said Charlie. “It seems rather -aimless—so much trouble without any very important result.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you forget the part of the plot which failed,” said Sir Dugald, -quickly. “It may be rather lowering to your self-esteem, but you must -remember that you two Europeans were not the chief persons aimed at. -The Um-ul-Pasha and the Kitchuk Khanum Effendi had their end in view, -and that was to get rid of Azim Bey; to get rid of you and Miss -Anstruther was only a means of attaining that end. Everything went -well as far as that. You were out of the way, and that gave them the -opportunity of keeping Miss Anstruther out of the way too. Azim Bey -was left unprotected. Then came the unlooked-for blow which spoiled -the scheme—the Pasha’s leaving Karalampi behind with the Mutesalim. -The Kitchuk Khanum Effendi completed the ruin of the plot, and when -once we had had Mrs White’s letter, and begun to make inquiries, they -had to patch things up as best they could. Miss Anstruther was to be -married off and taken out of the way; and as for you, Egerton, I think -you would have disappeared mysteriously as soon as you set foot -outside the Palace, which would have saved them a good deal of -trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you are really going to let them carry it all off as a joke?” -asked Cecil, indignantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Sir Dugald, “I have pointed out to the Pasha the fact -that the peculiar sense of humour inherent in his family is -inconveniently strong and must be checked, and he has promised to see -to it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what does it all mean?” inquired Cecil, in bewilderment. -</p> - -<p> -“It simply means that the Pasha is bound to hush the matter up at any -cost, and that this is the only way in which he can make a show of -accounting for the circumstances. Of course he has to pay for it, but -he prefers that to embroiling himself with Tahir Pasha, the Khanum -Effendi’s father, or with the Hajar, and creating a fearful scandal in -the city. I have made sure, Miss Anstruther, that your salary is not -to be docked on account of your alleged illness, and you are to -receive the <i>bakhshish</i> agreed upon from the beginning. Your maid, and -Egerton and his servant, are all to receive compensation, of course on -the understood condition that they hold their tongues about what has -taken place.” -</p> - -<p> -“But is the Pasha to pay it all?” asked Cecil. “Surely that isn’t -fair?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is not poetical justice, I grant you, especially since Karalampi -retires to his native Smyrna with a handsome sum of hush-money in his -pocket. But it puts it in a better light when you consider that if the -Pasha had never employed Karalampi, he would never have had to pay. -Or, to go back to first principles, it would have been the same if he -had been content with one wife, or even with having had three, and had -not married the Khanum Effendi, or if, having married her, he had kept -her in better order. As for her, she has done for her son’s chance of -inheriting any but a very small share of his father’s property, and -brought herself very near a divorce, and that ought to keep her quiet -for the future. Then she and her mother-in-law have quarrelled -violently, and the Um-ul-Pasha has cursed Najib Bey, and taken Azim -Bey into favour, which is also satisfactory. By the bye, that pupil of -yours is a queer little specimen, Miss Anstruther.” -</p> - -<p> -“He is very happy just now in having realised an old ambition,” said -Cecil, laughing. “He has been both the villain and the <i>deus ex -machinâ</i> of the story.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there’s no accounting for tastes,” said Sir Dugald, -sententiously. “Ambitions are queer things. Egerton’s is to set things -right generally, I believe. I hope you realise, Miss Anstruther, that -you are in for a hornets’ nest at home? Egerton will go about hunting -up abuses and attacking vested interests until you are universally -hated, and even think with envy of us sweltering out here. Still, -better at home than in Baghdad. There may be a niche for faddists in -England, but in the East we want men who can pull together.” -</p> - -<p> -“And in your view that covers a multitude of sins?” said Cecil. “No, -Sir Dugald, I am not going to begin an argument. I know that when you -and I argue it only leads to our each being more firmly convinced of -the truth of our respective opinions than before. But I am sorry, for -one thing, that we are going to live at home. I used to like to think -that we might settle down here, and Charlie could start a medical -mission to help Dr Yehudi’s work.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor old Yehudi! I think I should have been obliged to interfere to -protect him,” said Sir Dugald. “He would have had the mob pulling the -Mission-house about his ears in a week. No; for the sake of the -Mission, and of the unoffending missionaries, I am sure we may be -thankful that Egerton’s past record effectually prevents his settling -in Baghdad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Cecil, with a little sigh, “I think I am learning not to -try and plan my life beforehand, but to take it as it comes. Nothing -has ever happened yet as I have expected it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should not have suspected you of being a disenchanted cynic,” said -Sir Dugald, as he rose, but Cecil looked up at him in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“But I am not complaining,” she said. “What I meant was that I thought -I was beginning to see how much better it was that it should be so, -because we can’t tell what is before us. Why, when we left Sardiyeh, I -felt so miserable that I told Um Yusuf that I should like to stay -there always. She said that was only foolishness, but it was what I -really felt, and just think what I should have missed if I had been -able to do as I liked! And at the very beginning, too, before I came -out here at all, if my life had been as I planned it, I should have -been teaching the children at home still, and I should never have left -England—nor met Charlie.” -</p> - -<p> -“And that would have been a loss?” asked Sir Dugald. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil gave him a glance of pity and reproach. -</p> - -<p> -“A very great loss,” she said. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -THE END. -</p> - - -<h2 id="fn"> -FOOTNOTES. -</h2> - -<p> -<a href="#fn01a" id="fn01b">[01]</a> -<b>Emineh</b> this name, the feminine form of Emin or Amin, is the Amina of -the earlier translations of the ‘Arabian Nights.’ Khanum means lady. -</p> - -<p> -<a href="#fn02a" id="fn02b">[02]</a> -Baghdad is not now a station of the London Society for Promoting -Christianity among the Jews. The Church Missionary Society has a -medical mission there. -</p> - -<p> -<a href="#fn03a" id="fn03b">[03]</a> -<b>Jamileh</b> this name is also spelt Gemila, Djamilé, and Jameelie. The -last form gives the pronunciation. -</p> - - -<h2 id="tn"> -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. -</h2> - -<p> -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. -</p> - -<p> -This book is part of the author’s “Modern East” series. The full -series, in order, being: -</p> - -<div class="quote_o"><div class="quote_i"> -The Flag of the Adventurer<br/> -Two Strong Men<br/> -The Advanced-Guard<br/> -His Excellency’s English Governess<br/> -Peace With Honour<br/> -The Warden of the Marches -</div></div> - -<p> -The last line on page 308 is missing, leaving the sentence “If the -Pasha were here, I would go straight to” unfinished. I have marked -this lacuna in the text. This flaw (as well as those below) is also -present in the 1896 and 1902 Blackwood (UK) editions. If you can -provide the missing text from an authoritative source please contact -Project Gutenberg support. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<b>Alterations to the text</b>: -</p> - -<p> -A few minor punctuation corrections—mostly involving the pairing of -quotation marks. -</p> - -<p> -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Title Page] -</p> - -<p> -Add brief note indicating this novel’s position in the series. See -above. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Footnotes] -</p> - -<p> -Relabel footnote markers, collect footnotes at end of text, and add -an entry to the TOC. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter III] -</p> - -<p> -Change “mingled Turkish, Circassian, and <i>Egyptain</i> blood” to -<i>Egyptian</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter VII] -</p> - -<p> -“they were conducted to a <i>minature</i> courtyard” to <i>miniature</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter IX] -</p> - -<p> -“Much <i>suprised</i> that the Pasha should pay” to <i>surprised</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVI] -</p> - -<p> -“he was at first <i>ininclined</i> to admire” to <i>inclined</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVII] -</p> - -<p> -“observation of Sir Dugald and Captain <i>Rossitter</i>” to <i>Rossiter</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXII] -</p> - -<p> -“while a brisk <i>fusilade</i> from the summit” to <i>fusillade</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXVI] -</p> - -<p> -“Um Yusuf shook her head but Cecil, knowing the...” add comma after -<i>head</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXVII] -</p> - -<p> -“the <i>ceremomy</i> was to be performed by Dr Yehudi” to <i>ceremony</i>. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[End of Text] -</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HIS EXCELLENCY'S ENGLISH GOVERNESS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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