is this strange destiny that the Fates have in store for thee?” I asked, mystified.
“Have I not already told thee that thy curiosity cannot be satisfied?”
“Yes. But I love thee,” I protested. “Surely I may know the character of any danger that threateneth?”
She shook her head, and, taking my hand, noticed upon my finger a plain gold signet ring that had belonged to my father. Slowly she drew it off and placed it upon her middle finger, saying, “I take this in remembrance of to-night.”
“But is there nothing I can do to avert this mysterious evil which thou apprehendest?” I asked.
She did not reply. With her face turned towards the painted ceiling, her dark, serious eyes gazed away into space. Her bare breast, with its profusion of pearls and diamonds, heaved and fell as she breathed, and the sweet odour of rose and geranium that pervaded her filled my nostrils with intoxicating fragrance.
“Why canst thou not escape from here?” I continued. “If danger threateneth, fly from it. I will assist thee. And is not Allah merciful? He giveth life and death.”
“Hákk,” she replied. “Yet to leave this place unobserved would be impossible. I have been able by a ruse to gain thine admittance here, but any attempt to leave would only result in my death.”
“Are not thy servants amenable to bribery?” I suggested.
“Alas! as they are my slaves, so are they my gaolers. They are charged with my safe custody, and if I eluded their vigilance, they would pay the penalty of their negligence with their lives. Ah! thou knowest not the more terrible of the tortures practised by my people. Thou knowest not the Ennitra. Soon I shall return again to the Ahaggar, and then the Great Desert and the Atlas will separate us. For me escape is impossible. Thou wilt go to thine own land ere many moons, and – and forget me!”
“Never!” I exclaimed, vehemently.
“Thou wilt marry one of thine own women who have no prejudices, and who may go unveiled, like those who come to Mustapha at Ramadân.”
“No, Zoraida,” I said; “I love only thee.”
She gazed long and earnestly into my eyes, at the same time toying with my ring.
“And thou art ready to serve me implicitly?” she inquired eagerly.
“I am. Command me.”
“Then know, O Cecil, my life is at stake,” she said, in a low, hoarse whisper, drawing herself up with one arm still entwined tenderly about my neck.
“Why art thou threatened?” I asked, in surprise.
“Because I – because I am guilty of a crime; I possess the secret of a hidden marvel. Having dared to penetrate the hideous mysteries of Eblis, one of them, undreamed of and astounding, hath been revealed unto me. Its knowledge placeth in my hands a secret power that I might use with fearful effect, but the awful curse hath now fallen upon me, and I am doomed. Only thy willing assistance can save me. Yet” – and she paused. “Yet I feel doubtful whether thou, a Roumi, wouldst dare to undertake the mission that is necessary for my safety; whether thou couldst place sufficient confidence in me to carry out instructions which to thee may seem so extraordinary.”
“I have perfect trust in thee,” I said. “I am ready from this moment to serve thee blindly, implicitly, if I can save thee and further the prospect of our marriage.”
“Marriage? No! no! Do not speak of it now,” she exclaimed hastily. “Hast thou never heard of the truth uttered by our Harikar al-Hakim, who said, ‘Marriage is a joy for a month and a sorrow for a life, and the paying of settlements, and the breaking of the back under a load of misery, and the listening to a woman’s tongue.’ To thee I can promise nothing, for my life may end at any moment.”
“But thy death can be averted. How?”
“By rendering me assistance thou canst save me from the awful physical and mental torture – from the horrors of the grave. Wilt thou consent to become my secret agent?”
“Yes. I am ready to perform any task thou mayest require of me.”
“Then remember the oath of secrecy thou didst take before Messoudia brought thee hither; for, first of all, thou, trusting to thine own Deity, must enter with me into the presence of the Great Unknown.”
And as she touched a little silver gong, the great negro in handsome blue livery, who had announced me, entered the harem and prostrated himself before his mistress until his forehead touched the carpet; while two houris, in clinging robes of white silk, entered bearing a great gold bowl of sweet perfume in which Zoraida, with an imperious gesture, washed her hands, and bade me follow her example.
“Thou wilt not be timid,” she asked, “even though we go voluntarily together to the very threshold of the grave; even though we may peradventure taste of the horrors of death?”
“No,” I replied, endeavouring to remain calm.
My nerves were strung to their highest pitch, and my heart beat quickly. I stood breathless, watching one of the houris, who lit a small gold lamp that burned with a thin blue flame. What, I wondered, was the character of the strange scene I was about to witness? Zoraida, my enchanting Pearl of the Harem, and I were going together voluntarily into the presence of the Great Unknown!
Chapter Fourteen.
Seeking the Unknown
Having placed the quaintly-shaped lamp on the pearl and silver stool in the centre of the harem, the negro went out, returning immediately with a small bronze urn marvellously chased, which on bended knee he carefully handed to his mistress. At a word from Zoraida, her women and the tall Soudanese prostrated themselves facing the table, pressing their foreheads to the carpet. Then, turning to me, she said in deep earnestness —
“Knowest thou that the deeds we are about to commit are a terrible sacrilege? Though thou wilt witness strange things, yet peradventure they may cost us our lives – nay, our very souls.”
“Why?” I asked, somewhat alarmed at her sudden seriousness. “Is it imperative that we should risk everything?”
“Every sin beareth its fruit,” she replied, as, slowly rising from her divan and holding above her head the urn the negro had brought, she added, “Hath not the Prophet told us that when the earth shall be shaken by a violent shock, and the mountains shall be dashed to pieces and shall become as dust scattered abroad, we shall be separated into three distinct classes? Those who have preceded others in the Faith shall precede them to Paradise. The Companions of the Right Hand shall go and dwell in the Gardens of Delight, among lote trees free from thorns and trees of mauz always fruitful; but the Companions of the Left Hand – how miserable shall they be! They who, like ourselves at this moment, invoke the secret power of Eblis the Terrible, will dwell amidst the burning winds under the shade of the great black smoke. They are the damned, for they, in their error, have gone astray in the Valley of Perdition. Then know, O Roumi! that thou hast chosen to accompany me unto the dreaded Shrine of Darkness, to seek of the beneficent Granter of Requests what is hidden, to face the terrors of the tomb, so that thou mayest hold over thy fellows a power terrific, fatal, awful!”
Her eyes were dilated, filled with a strange, unnatural light, and I stood aghast at her solemn speech.
“Art thou not one of the chosen?” I asked. “Art thou not – ”
“Hold thy peace!” she commanded. Then, holding forth the bronze urn, she exclaimed, “See! in this vessel are the ashes of the great Masinissa, the Numidian king, whose body was entombed at Medrassen two thousand years ago. By their light we will search for the Great Unknown.”
With a sudden movement she took from the urn a small handful of white dust, and, holding it high over the lamp, sprinkled it slowly into its faint blue flame. In a moment the place was illuminated by a white glare so brilliant that I was compelled to shade my blinking eyes with my hands, while at the same time the apartment was filled with a dense smoke of a light green hue, but so pungent as to plunge me into the agonies of asphyxiation.
Thrice