THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 OF THE 
 
 Athens Public Library 
 
 ARTICLE I. The Library will be open 
 for the delivery and return of books, on 
 Thursday afternoon of each week. 
 
 ART. II. No person or family shall be 
 allowed more than two volumes at one 
 time; and no book shall be kept out of 
 the Library more than two weeks. 
 
 ART. III. Persons keeping books 
 longer than two weeks, with the privil 
 ege of two renewals, each for one week, 
 shall pay for each week or fractional part 
 of a week, three cents. 
 
 ART. IV. If any book shall be lost or 
 damaged beyond the necessary wear, the 
 person to whom it stands charged shall 
 replace it within thirty days, or pay such 
 sum as shall be judged an equivalent by 
 the Trustees. 
 
 ART. V. No person owing a fine shall 
 receive books from the Library till the 
 same is paid.
 
 EL FUREIDlS. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOB OF 
 
 "THE LAMPLIGHTER" AND "MABEL VAUGHAN." 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 
 M DCCC LX.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 University Press, Cambridge : 
 Elcctrotypcd and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.
 
 PS 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO MB. AND MRS. D. AND DR. C., BUT OPEN TO 
 PUBLIC PERUSAL. 
 
 Do you remember, my friends, those winter even 
 ings when I sat with you in a certain pleasant li 
 brary in New York, and listened with attentive ears 
 while you discoursed of past experiences in Eastern 
 lands ? Do you remember how, with maps spread 
 out upon the table, you recalled each familiar scene, 
 and introduced me, novice as I was, into the porch 
 of that temple of historical and sacred lore in 
 which you were already devotees ? 
 
 " Always worship the rising sun," was' the worldly- 
 wise maxim of an old nurse, who exercised a vast 
 influence upon my childhood; and recalling this 
 favorite proverb of my early oracle, I set myself dili 
 gently to the study and comprehension of that mysti 
 cal secret which makes the Orient a charmed land. 
 
 In El Fureidis, you behold the result. Stanley 
 took me by the hand, and led me across Sinai into
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 the Canaan of promise. Kelly, with his select com 
 pany, next became my travelling-companion. Porter 
 has been throughout my friend and guide. Rob 
 inson has proved a safe mentor to my inexperi 
 ence. I have shared the adventures and perils of 
 Van de Velde. Thompson has unfolded to me the 
 details of Syrian life, Churchill has lured me into 
 the mountains of Lebanon, Chasseaud has by his 
 fascinations compelled me to linger there. Burck- 
 hardt has introduced me to Bedouin hospitality. 
 Burton has taken me on the sacred pilgrimage, 
 Lamartine has sung for me his sweetest songs. 
 
 Here a slice and there a crumb, all these have 
 contributed to satisfy my cravings and supply my 
 need. I have had chance fellow-travellers too, oc 
 casional helpmates, way-side friends. How shall I 
 thank them, who are too many even to name ? 
 
 I can but humbly follow their example, and, as 
 they have guided me through scenes of actual 
 romance, pleasure, incident, and danger, invite those 
 who may be so inclined to follow me in my imagi 
 nary experiences, trusting that there are some in 
 whom I may be so fortunate as to awaken an in 
 terest in a land which has aroused my own enthu 
 siasm, and that, pursuing with what patience they 
 may the route which I have trod, they may come 
 at last to feel, like me, at home in El Pureidis.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE sun was setting over that far-famed Eastern land, 
 which, when the Most High divided unto the nations their 
 inheritance, He gave unto his chosen people, that land 
 which the leader of Israel's hosts saw from afar, though he 
 entered not in, that land immortalized as the paradise of 
 our earthly parents, the Canaan of a favored race, the birth 
 place and the tomb of prophets, the scene of Jehovah's 
 mightiest works, the cherished spot whence the dayspring 
 from on high has visited us, the blessed soil which the 
 feet of the Prince of Peace have trod. 
 
 Lazily on the bosom of that classic sea which skirts the 
 shore of Syria there floats a light and graceful bark, whose 
 dreamy motion, as it skims the tide, harmonizes and keeps 
 pace with the sweet and glowing fancies, the unuttered long 
 ings, the irrepressible awe, which fill the mind of one who, 
 bound on an Oriental pilgrimage, is now nearing the land of 
 promise, of beauty, of ancient records, and of sacred lore. 
 Englishman that he is by birth, scholar that he has become 
 by study, and philosopher that he fain would be, he forgets, 
 in the scene before him, the race from which he sprung, the 
 learning that has made him wise, the logical reasonings of a 
 1
 
 2 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 well-schooled brain, and, prostrate on the vessel's deck, gives 
 himself up, with all the rapture of a poet's enthusiasm, to the 
 emotion of the hour. 
 
 The dim and wavy outline of a distant mountain chain, the 
 almost invisible specks upon its sides, and the crest of what 
 seemed at first an airy, floating cloud, are gradually assum 
 ing form and color as the slow-moving vessel draws nearer 
 and nearer to the shore; and now the cedar-crowned 
 heights of Lebanon stand boldly out to view, clothed in the 
 deep purple light of the descending sun, white monasteries 
 with lofty towers here and there crown the beetling cliffs, 
 and Mount Carmel rears its cone-like peak in a majesty 
 solemn and sublime, while the gilded waters of the Medi 
 terranean fold the whole in a sheet of living flame. 
 
 Now feasting his eager eye upon the harmonious picture, 
 then lifting it with equal wonder and delight to the deep- 
 blue canopy of sky above, and anon gazing into the fiery 
 depths below, through which the bark is cutting its trackless 
 way, and all the while breathing in an atmosphere whose 
 purity and fragrance are nowhere else inhaled, the Eastern- 
 bound traveller acknowledges all his longings satisfied, all 
 his day-dreams realized. 
 
 The little merchant-vessel, bound from Cyprus to Bey- 
 rout, boasts but scanty accommodations, a circumstance of 
 which its solitary passenger is far from being disposed to 
 complain, since he owes to it the exclusive occupancy of 
 both deck and cabin. More especially, as he nears the 
 shore of Palestine, and his soul drinks in the inspiration of 
 the scene and hour, does his English reserve find subject 
 for congratulation in the absence of the restless movements, 
 the jargon of tongues, and the inquisitive eyes, which in 
 recent journeyings have often broken in upon and marred 
 the subjects of his reverie.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 3 
 
 The breeze is so light and soft, the air so balmy with a " 
 thousand sweets, the sky so serene and cloudless, and the 
 stillness so unbroken, that, lulled into a species of trance, 
 midway between sleep and ecstasy, he experiences, even 
 before setting his foot on land, something of the luxury of 
 Oriental repose. 
 
 But an Eastern twilight is short, and so was the undis 
 turbed meditation of our traveller. The fading of the pur 
 ple light on the Syrian hills, and the shooting forth of a 
 galaxy of stars, each one of which was like a brilliant gem 
 starting out from its dark background, proved the signal 
 for a tumult and confusion which formed as strong a con 
 trast to the previous stillness as did the darkness of night 
 to the glories of the sunset hour. 
 
 The little schooner had come to anchor about a mile from 
 shore, and was at once surrounded by shoals of boats, 
 manned by Arab boatmen, whose shrill voices and eager 
 gestures, as they climbed the vessel's side, seemed to the 
 startled Englishman little less than demoniac. Thus sud 
 denly roused from Elysian dreams to find himself encom 
 passed by a swarm of savages, of whose importunities he 
 was the sole victim, it may well be supposed that his state 
 of mind suffered a no less sudden transition. He felt him 
 self injured, indignant, and resolved to resist. 
 
 But what availed his determined attitude, scornful re 
 pulse, and English expostulations, against ignorance of his 
 language and superior physical force ? So hopeless indeed 
 was the contest with numbers, so evident the necessity of 
 availing himself of one of the small craft which lay along 
 side, that, summoning all his philosophy, he wisely con 
 cluded to conform to the customs of the country, and per 
 mit himself to be carried bodily, first to a boat, and then to 
 the opposite shore.
 
 4 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Here new clamors awaited him, cries of backsheesh, 
 offers of service, and the usual invectives of the disap 
 pointed applicants against their more fortunate, because 
 more prompt and energetic, rivals. By the time he reached 
 the comfortable Hotel de Bellevue, to which his swarthy 
 conductors guided him with ready instinct, his flattering 
 visions of the romance of Eastern life had subsided ; the 
 vivid consciousness of his own individuality had become 
 completely restored, and with it the conviction that a good 
 dinner, a good bed, and all the comforts of a sober English 
 home, were vastly preferable to the excited anticipations 
 and painful realities of a country which presented such 
 abrupt and powerful contrasts. 
 
 As if to test, however, the conclusion to which his recent 
 and rough experiences had brought him, and prove the 
 truth that discontent is inherent in the nature of man, he 
 now unexpectedly found himself in circumstances calcu 
 lated to gratify all his national prejudices, and restore him 
 to the normal condition of his being. 
 
 Not only was he conducted to a room furnished in the 
 European style, attended by a waiter in European costume, 
 and accosted in the familiar Saxon tongue, but at dinner he 
 encountered a. party of English travellers, who had just 
 returned from the stereotyped tour up the Nile and through 
 the most frequented portions of the Holy Land. The party, 
 moreover, included some old friends of his, a gentleman 
 who had been his fellow-student at Oxford, a lady who 
 had married a connection of his family, and an army offi 
 cer whom he had met in London. In a word, he found 
 himse^ restored at once to the familiar atmosphere of 
 home. What more could he ask to fill up the measure of 
 his satisfaction? 
 
 And yet, strange to say, this unforeseen encounter only
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 5 
 
 served to bring about a fresh revulsion in his feelings. His 
 countrymen dwelt lightly on the pleasures of their late 
 excursion, talked loudly of its hazards and inconveniences, 
 boasted of their own prowess and indifference to danger, 
 abused the excellent Avine of the country, and ended by 
 advising him to secure a dragoman at once, attach himself 
 to a party similar to their own, do up Egypt and Syria in 
 the shortest possible time, and join them in Derbyshire 
 in season for the autumn races. 
 
 The ladies talked learnedly of Thebes and the Sphynx, 
 Baalbec and the hidden treasures of Nineveh, interspersing 
 their quotations from the guide-book with inquiries concern 
 ing the Queen's visit to Scotland and anticipations of a gay 
 winter in Paris. 
 
 Our fastidious traveller felt an unspeakable thrill of an 
 noyance and disgust. The conversation was natural, harm 
 less, just what might have been expected from the mental 
 calibre of the individuals. Its effect, however, was to excite 
 at once the qualities of his character most antagonistic to the 
 society in which he found himself. The imaginative and 
 poetic enthusiasm of his nature was again aroused. He 
 resolved not only to see Eastern lands, but to imbibe their 
 spirit ; and for this purpose he would travel alone, abjure 
 even the companionship of a dragoman, take the least fre 
 quented routes, and, above all things, avoid any intercourse 
 with his fellow-countrymen. 
 
 Accident seemed to facilitate the execution of this pur 
 pose, affording him a prompt opportunity for carrying out 
 his rash and hastily formed project. 
 
 His English friends had come from Damascus to Bey- 
 rout under the guidance of a professed dragoman, who had 
 in his turn availed himself, among the mountain passes, of 
 the assistance of a youthful Arab, son of a noted desert 
 
 ft-
 
 6 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 sheik. This youth, who spoke English with some fluency, 
 and possessed a perfect familiarity with the route between 
 the two cities, had proved an efficient aid upon the journey, 
 and he now came, late at night, to receive the promised 
 compensation for his services. Hearing that he was about 
 to return the next day by a somewhat circuitous route, our 
 traveller immediately conceived the idea of accompanying 
 him. The reserved Englishman forbore any expression of 
 this intention, being anxious to escape the inquiries and ex 
 postulations which would be sure to follow ; but, after bid 
 ding his unsuspecting friends good-night, he sought the 
 youth, made the necessary contract for safe-conduct, and 
 spent the remaining hours until sunrise in hasty prepara 
 tions for the journey, which was to commence at daybreak. 
 
 A written apology and farewell sufficed to acquaint his 
 friends with his sudden departure, though it must be ac 
 knowledged that their comments upon the singularity of the 
 proceeding were not unwarrantable. 
 
 Nor was it strange that in solemn conclave they summed 
 up those events of his past career which had come under 
 their knowledge, and passed the joint resolution that Mere 
 dith had always been an eccentric fellow, for whose whims 
 there was no accounting.
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE next phase of Eastern life in which we behold our 
 traveller is one of excitement, suffering, and danger. It 
 is the evening of the second day since he left Beyrout, 
 attended only by the youthful Abdoul. Nightfall has 
 overtaken them among the mountains, and the distant 
 thunder betokens an approaching tempest. Worn with 
 fatigue, exhausted and feverish from exposure to the 
 Syrian sun, and riding a horse scarcely less jaded than 
 himself, our hero, despite his love of adventure, contem 
 plates with no little dread the prospect of passing the 
 night, shelterless, and exposed to the fury of the elements. 
 Nor is this the worst he has to fear. Distrust of his guide 
 is superadded to the hardships of the journey, and the 
 senses which would otherwise be benumbed with weariness 
 are now strained to their utmost in apprehension of treach 
 ery. Not that Meredith is by nature cowardly or sus 
 picious. On the contrary, he is a model of manly vigor 
 and accomplishments, while the generosity of his own 
 disposition is such as to encourage confidence in others. 
 But it is no ordinary situation in which he finds himself, 
 and various incidents have occurred on the route calculated 
 to excite him to wariness and prudence. 
 
 Both pride and policy, however, forbid his betraying 
 to his Bedouin attendant any symptom of uneasiness, nor, 
 save the simple precaution of keeping constantly in the
 
 g EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 rear, does he deem it advisable to adopt any defensive 
 measures. Even this prudential order of precedence may 
 be deemed inevitable, since, but for the encouragement 
 afforded by Abdoul's example, the European traveller, 
 skilful rider as he is, would hesitate to spur his horse 
 over the wide chasms, narrow passes, and precipitous 
 descents, which everywhere mark and interrupt their 
 passage. The night is dark, the journey hazardous, and 
 both the gloom and the perils of the way are every moment 
 becoming more appalling. Now and then pale streaks of 
 lightning illumine the wild scene with their ghastly glare, 
 bringing into bold relief the bare and frowning peaks 
 above, the yawning precipices below, and all the dangers of 
 the rough and flint-strown path, which at one moment 
 skirts the edge of an overhanging rock, then winds along 
 the dry bed of a mountain torrent. The sudden darkness 
 which succeeds, the echoing of the thunder as it resounds 
 from crag to crag, and now and then the roar of a neighbor 
 ing cataract, all combine to heighten the awful sternness 
 and grandeur of the place and hour. 
 
 Trusting wholly to the sagacity and sure-footedness of 
 his horse, which he no longer attempts to guide, Meredith 
 hails eagerly the lightning flash which enables him to 
 measure the difficulties of the way and scan the face 
 of the youthful Ishmaelite, who successfully veils every 
 emotion, whether of weariness, doubt, or treachery, beneath 
 features of motionless inflexibility. At length, as Meredith 
 finds himself upon a platform of some little breadth, while 
 the steed of Abdoul is already plunging down the fearful 
 declivity which succeeds, the Englishman pauses, and for 
 the first time for some hours addresses the young Arab. 
 
 "Abdoul!" he exclaimed. 
 
 At the sound of the clear voice ringing through the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 9 
 
 darkness, Abdoul drew his horse back almost upon its 
 haunches, and, with a surprising feat on the part of both 
 steed and rider, the animal was forced to remount the 
 ascent backwards until it gained the level occupied by 
 Meredith. 
 
 " Abdoul, the journey is long, the road fearful, and there 
 is a storm coming on." 
 
 " Allah ! you say truly," replied Abdoul with an unmoved 
 air. 
 
 " Where are we to find shelter for the night ? " continued 
 Meredith. 
 
 " Behind yonder mountain," and Abdoul pointed to a 
 precipitous mass of rock, which, as the lightning played 
 over it, seemed within a stone's throw. 
 
 " And you will guide me there in safety ? " 
 
 " Have I not promised ? and is not the written contract 
 sealed with the seal of Abdoul ? " answered the youth, 
 proudly. 
 
 " But do you know the way ? " questioned Meredith, who 
 believed himself misled, not being able to credit the possi 
 bility that he was pursuing a travelled and recognizable 
 road. 
 
 " Does the camel of the desert know the water-spring ? 
 and can the eagle find its nest ? " said the boy, with gravity. 
 
 " But the horses ? they are worn out, and cannot carry us 
 much farther." 
 
 "Trust them," replied Abdoul; "they will smell their 
 evening meal and the hand that grooms them." 
 
 There was a pause. The Englishman forbore further 
 questioning, and the Bedouin, after waiting the word from 
 Meredith, responded to his command to proceed by plung 
 ing once more down the cliff. 
 
 An hour of patient travelling succeeded; the storm had 
 1*
 
 10 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 come on with violence, and the fever which burned in the 
 veins of Meredith had given place to a fearful chill as the 
 cold rain drenched him to the skin. And still the promised 
 destination seemed as distant as ever. It was inconceivable 
 to the Englishman that they should be so long in gaining 
 the place of refuge, which, when pointed out an hour before, 
 had been apparently close at hand. He could not forget 
 the mysterious communication which Abdoul had held the 
 previous evening with some stragglers of a Bedouin tribe 
 whom they had encountered on their road ; nor the fierce 
 gesticulations with which the boy had given emphasis to 
 his discourse. While engaged in these and similar reflec 
 tions, a sound of rushing water fell upon his ear, and he soon 
 became conscious that the path was leading him to the 
 verge of a narrow causeway, beneath which, at a distance 
 of more than a hundred feet, there foamed and dashed an 
 impetuous mountain stream. This causeway was a natural 
 bridge of solid rock, suspended over a terrific chasm, and un 
 protected by the slightest barrier. Thick darkness hid the 
 scene from view ; but the roaring of the flood beneath, and 
 the hesitating step of his horse, afforded Meredith sufficient 
 indication of the crisis he had reached in his already suffi 
 ciently perilous expedition. At the same instant he felt his 
 Bedouin guide tightly grasp his right arm, thus rendering 
 powerless the hand which held his only weapon of defence, 
 a small pocket-pistol. 
 
 Confident that the moment had come when resistance 
 was the truest wisdom, he released himself by a sudden 
 effort of strength from the hold of his seeming antagonist, 
 and with a threatening exclamation raised his pistol. At 
 this critical instant a broad, vivid flash of lightning illu 
 mined earth and sky, revealing a picture as strange and 
 startling as it was sudden and momentary. In the very
 
 EL FUREIDIS. H 
 
 centre of the narrow bridge of rock, which hung, as it were, 
 midway between earth and heaven, both horsemen were 
 stationed abreast, having come to a sudden halt. Meredith 
 sat firm and upright in his saddle, Abdoul bent backwards 
 in the position into which he had been thrown by the force 
 of Meredith's sudden repulse, and the eyes of each gazed 
 into those of the other. 
 
 Nothing could be more wildly picturesque than the ta 
 bleau thus presented, nothing more striking than the con 
 trast afforded by the two individuals, each of whom fur 
 nished a fitting type of his own race and nation. 
 
 The resolute determination which marked both the face 
 and figure of the European, the calm caution and deep- 
 seated distrust evinced both in his countenance and air, were 
 met with equally characteristic indications on the part of 
 the Arab youth, who, with his head thrown back, his thin 
 lips compressed, and his loose garments floating over the 
 verge of the precipice, shot from his eyes such a glance 
 of scorn, that the piercing orbs might have been deemed the 
 central fires from which radiated the mountain lightning. 
 
 Not less significant were the words which succeeded this 
 striking pantomime. 
 
 " Traitor ! " said the Englishman, between his teeth, 
 " would you hurl me over the precipice ? " 
 
 " Son of an infidel," answered Abdoul, with proud dis 
 dain, " the waters of yonder flood are deep, and the caves 
 of the valley are mute as the grave ; but the Frank shall 
 tread the mountain pass unharmed, for Abdoul has given 
 his word of faith, and the son of Sheik Zanadeen never 
 lies." 
 
 Momentary as were the glances thus exchanged, and 
 short as was the dialogue that followed, the effect was no 
 less instantaneous.
 
 12 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 To the Englishman the good faith of the Arab was estab 
 lished beyond a question. The scorn with which he met 
 the charge of treachery, the proud words with which he re 
 pelled it, not only carried with them conviction of his fidel 
 ity, but excited in the mind of the generous Meredith an 
 involuntary respect and admiration for the true-hearted 
 youth. 
 
 The good understanding, however, was far from mutual. 
 The indifference with which the young Bedouin had pre 
 viously regarded Meredith had now given place to a senti 
 ment of a wholly different character. Not only had the 
 lips of the Frank branded him with the base charge of 
 traitor, but the lightning flash had revealed to him a coun 
 tenance, every line of which was darkened with distrust. 
 It was for a moment only, but Abdoul never forgot it. 
 
 Maintaining, however, that self-control which marks the 
 Arab even under circumstances of excitement, he quietly 
 resumed his duties as escort and guide, and the next mo 
 ment sufficed to explain the movement which had alarmed 
 Meredith, and given rise to the misunderstanding. The 
 stone causeway upon which they had halted, although ex 
 tremely narrow at the entrance, widened, as we have seen, 
 towards the centre, sufficiently to admit of two horsemen 
 abreast. Abdoul had availed himself of this circumstance 
 to fall back to a position parallel with that of Meredith, in 
 order, by aid of voice and arm, to assist him and encourage 
 his steed in surmounting a difficult ascent which presented 
 itself at the farther extremity of the bridge. It was merely 
 to assure himself of the desired proximity that the youth 
 had in the darkness grasped the arm of Meredith ; and this 
 fact became evident, when, as they actually attempted to 
 climb the smooth, slippery rock, on which the horses could 
 with difficulty obtain a foothold, the jaded animal which
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 13 
 
 Meredith rode stumbled, and would have fallen but for the 
 assistance promptly rendered by the skilful Bedouin. 
 
 This difficulty surmounted, the path became gradually 
 more smooth and practicable, the rain ceased, and the pros 
 pects of the travellers appeared more encouraging, though 
 as yet no place of rest and refreshment was visible. 
 
 Half ashamed of the doubts and surmises which, although 
 warranted by the occasion, now seemed to Meredith the 
 effects of a heated and distempered brain, he strove to 
 atone for them by manifesting towards his guide the re 
 newed confidence with which the demeanor of the latter 
 had inspired him, and with this view endeavored to engage 
 the lad in conversation. But Abdoul could not be roused 
 from his taciturnity, and the responses called forth by the 
 questioning of Meredith, although civil, were invariably 
 brief. 
 
 They were now descending the mountain whose sum 
 mit they had crossed earlier in the evening, and the 
 moon, having risen from behind a bank of clouds, afforded 
 an uncertain light which partially illumined the prospect. 
 The craggy heights and bluffs which stretched their huge 
 and shapeless masses in every direction were becoming 
 more thickly wooded and verdant with every step of the 
 travellers' progress, but desolate grandeur was still the 
 predominant feature of the landscape. The path the riders 
 were following led around the slope of a tall, projecting 
 cliff, whose dark, frowning side shut in and barred the pros 
 pect, affording only the view of its own pine-clad acclivities 
 above and the deep chasm at its base. 
 
 Just as Meredith drew near the point where, by a sudden 
 turning in the road, he might command a view of the 
 opposite valley, a sound fell upon his ear as startling as a 
 trumpet and as welcome as the voice of a friend. It was
 
 j4 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 the clear, ringing note of a deep-toned bell, which, as it 
 reverberated from cliff to cliff, reassured his heart with its 
 familiar welcome to the abodes of men. Its solemn peals 
 were still vibrating among the hills, when other musical 
 tones burst forth from a nearer quarter, mingling with the 
 bass notes which rung out from the opposite cliff, a 
 plaintive minor strain, forming a perfect concord with the 
 deeper and sterner harmony. 
 
 Astonishment gave place to awe, as Meredith listened 
 until the sounds died away upon the air, and awe again 
 yielded to an ecstasy of surprise, as, turning the angle of 
 the mountain precipice, he beheld at a glance what seemed 
 to his enraptured vision a more than earthly paradise. 
 
 Reposing in the heart of the mountain, nestling in the 
 giant arms of Lebanon, a lovely and picturesque village lay 
 before him, its white, flat-roofed cottages gleaming in the 
 unclouded splendor of the now brilliant moonlight. 
 
 " Behold ! " said Abdoul, checking his horse, and waving 
 his hand in the direction of the highland glen, as if, in 
 presenting it to Meredith, he sealed the fulfilment of his 
 sacred contract, " behold El Fureidis (the Paradise), the 
 happy valley, watered by the springs of Baruk, the 
 home of the mountain-rose, the garden of Lebanon ! " 
 
 " A garden indeed ! " thought Meredith, as the delicious 
 perfume of herbs and flowers was borne to him on the 
 summer breeze. " Fit place in which to spend a lifetime ! " 
 he mentally added, as the sweet repose, the calm serenity, 
 of the scene stole in upon his weary senses.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AMID the novelty and excitement of his journey, and 
 the various creeds and nations of which it had presented 
 specimens, Meredith had well-nigh forgotten that it was 
 the evening of the Christian Sabbath. 
 
 This recollection was brought to his mind by the familiar 
 sound of bells; but his consciousness of the fact became 
 more vivid, as, descending the mountain slope, and drawing 
 near the little highland village, he was struck with the 
 deep and solemn quiet which pervaded the place. 
 
 Even the flat roofs of the dwellings, where Eastern 
 households invariably congregate at night, were all deserted. 
 There was no sound to be heard in court-yard or garden, 
 save here and there the musical plashing of a fountain, 
 the distinctly heard play of whose waters rendered the 
 surrounding stillness more impressive. 
 
 "They are in yonder church at the evening worship," 
 said Abdoul, replying to the silent interrogation expressed 
 in Meredith's countenance ; and, without waiting the word 
 of command, he led the way to the village sanctuary. 
 
 It was a building of simple, but graceful architecture, 
 perched upon a high projecting platform, and its stone 
 roof and tower of pale yellow limestone gleamed brightly 
 in the moonlight, shedding a glow over the cluster of 
 mountain homes of which it might be termed the crown. 
 
 Both travellers alighted at its threshold, and Abdoul,
 
 16 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 followed by Meredith, entered noiselessly at the door, which 
 stood invitingly open. 
 
 Marvellous and touching was the scene which here pre 
 sented itself. An unwonted awe crept over the heart of 
 Meredith as he gazed and listened, and Abdoul involun 
 tarily assumed an air of respectful attention. 
 
 The chief feature in this strange congregation was the 
 figure of an old .man, whose hoary locks fell to his shoulders, 
 and whose long, black garments swept the floor of the little 
 platform on which he knelt and prayed. Around him 
 were grouped a crowd of worshippers, whose motley attire, 
 no less than their numerous shades of complexion and varied 
 cast of features, proclaimed them the children of many 
 a different lineage and nation. 
 
 Side by side on the marble pavement the Greek and 
 Armenian, the Turk and the native Syrian, offered up a 
 like petition to the common Father of them all ; each head 
 bowed and each knee bent in the same reverent posture, 
 while they listened to the words of one who, in the sim 
 plicity of the Christian faith, preached to them the truth 
 as it is in Jesus. 
 
 Like the Apostles of old, the aged man seemed to pos 
 sess the gift of tongues, for his simple offering of prayer 
 and praise was first spoken in English, and then repeated 
 in both Turkish and Arabic, that all might intelligently 
 join in the earnest and devout petition. Not an eye was 
 lifted, not a head raised, until the conclusion of the short 
 but solemn appeal to the throne of grace, and then every 
 voice united in the fervent " Amen ! " after which the 
 whole multitude rose and awaited the continuation of the 
 service. 
 
 As the noise which accompanied this simultaneous move 
 ment died away, a few soft notes of sweet and sacred music
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 17 
 
 stole upon the ear, and the strain gradually swelled in 
 sound and volume until at length the air rang with the 
 rich and vibrating notes of an organ played by skilful 
 fingers. Observing the direction of Abdoul's eager gaze, 
 and the straining of his figure to its utmost height, Meredith 
 availed himself of his own superior stature to peer above 
 the heads of the assembly in the quarter whence the 
 music proceeded ; and, although the light which the church 
 afforded was dim and indistinct, his eye at once detected 
 the rapt and youthful organist. She was a young girl 
 of not more than seventeen years, and of a grace and 
 beauty which, combined with her dress, her attitude, and, 
 above all, the nature of her occupation, imparted to her 
 an air of almost seraphic loveliness. 
 
 She wore a tight-fitting Grecian bodice of white Damas 
 cus silk, interwoven with silver, a full flowing skirt of snowy 
 whiteness, and a long veil of the same material thrown over 
 her black hair, after the fashion of the Syrian maidens. 
 
 Lost in self-forgetfulness, with her head slightly thrown 
 back and her dark eyes raised, she seemed to be invoking 
 the inspiration to which her fingers gave utterance as they 
 moved slowly over the keys of the instrument. At length, 
 her prelude being finished, she paused, cast her eye upon a 
 group of youthful choristers who stood near, and, gathering 
 voice for the effort, struck the first note of a solemn litany, 
 in which they all joined, keeping time to the voice of their 
 leader and to the accompaniment of the organ. 
 
 Sweetly and religiously did the words of the anthem flow 
 from their tuneful lips, and the multitude, in ruder but no 
 less earnest accents, took up the chorus. 
 
 " Thou, -who dost dwell alone, 
 Thou, who dost know thine own, 
 Thou, to whom all are known
 
 lg EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 
 Save, O save! 
 
 From the world's temptations, 
 From tribulations, 
 From the fierce anguish 
 Wherein we languish, 
 From the torpor deep, 
 Wherein we lie asleep, 
 Heavy as death, 
 Cold as the grave, 
 
 Save, O save ! " 
 
 As the last notes of the hymn died away, the young organ 
 ist rose, and with folded hands and downcast eyes awaited 
 the moment when the venerable servant of God should pro 
 nounce a blessing upon the assembly. 
 
 A solemn silence pervaded the sanctuary while the good 
 man commended each and all to the mercy and protection 
 of their Maker. 
 
 Meredith's poetic and imaginative mind, however, realized 
 the beauty more fully than the sacredness of the occasion. 
 His scholarly and artistic nature, more attuned to classical 
 than to religious emotion, failed to recognize in the scene the 
 felt presence of Him who " hath his foundation in the holy 
 mountains." 
 
 He saw only a temple reared with hands, and a venerable 
 priest uttering oracular words of wisdom, while, if his heart 
 bowed down in homage, it was to the matchless loveli 
 ness of one whom he was ready to liken to the sacred 
 priestess dwelling within the veil. As the congregation filed 
 through the narrow portal at which Meredith and Abdoul 
 had stationed themselves, the former had ample opportunity 
 to scrutinize the incongruous assemblage. 
 
 The athletic Maronite, richly and gayly attired, with 
 broad, flat turban and scarlet vest, strode away with a
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 19 
 
 confident bearing, while his fair and comely wife bent her 
 head as she emerged from the door-way whose height 
 scarcely afforded space for her tall tantour ; * the self- 
 absorbed and dignified Turk passed on without looking to 
 right or left ; and here and there a stern Druse, with his 
 hand on his heavy scimitar, folded his mantle over his 
 bronzed visage and came stealthily out amidst the crowd. 
 
 Meredith lingered to the last, hoping to catch sight of 
 the dark-haired maiden, and Abdoul, whatever might be his 
 motive, stepped within the shadow of a projecting angle of 
 the tower, and braced his slight figure against the wall. 
 The company of worshippers had scattered in different 
 directions, preserving all the while a becoming degree of 
 gravity and decorum, and Meredith began to suspect that 
 the object of his thoughts had left the building by some 
 private door-way, when the sound of a sweet girlish voice 
 fell upon his ear in accents of the purest Greek tongue, 
 and the next moment the beautiful organist made her ap 
 pearance, leaning on the arm of the gray-haired patri 
 arch of the valley, and followed by a young attendant in 
 Turkish costume, who carried in her hand a curious little 
 paper lantern. The eyes of the maiden were fixed in affec 
 tionate reverence on the face of her aged companion, and 
 she passed Meredith without observing him, though the 
 shadow of his figure lay directly across her path. As she 
 descended the steps, however, the breeze swayed the deli 
 cate lantern of her attendant, and its light fell full on the 
 face of Abdoul, who, as if anxious for concealment, had 
 crouched against the wall. 
 
 * The tantour is a horn of silver, or some inferior metal, which the 
 married women of the Lebanon, both Maronites and Druses, wear on the 
 head. It is nearly a foot and a half in height, is sometimes richly em 
 bossed, and over it is thrown a long, Avhite veil, thus imparting to the 
 wearer a singular, but not ungraceful appearance.
 
 20 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 The girl gave a quick start of surprise as she recognized 
 the lithe figure and handsome, swarthy face of the Arab, 
 and, withdrawing her arm from that of the pastor, she ad 
 vanced a step towards him, exclaiming, " Abdoul ! " 
 
 The youth, finding himself thus unexpectedly discovered, 
 straightened his figure to its full height, and, pressing his 
 fingers to his forehead, lips, and heart, after the manner of 
 the graceful and dignified salutation of Eastern lands, bowed 
 low before her, uttering her name, " Havilah ! " 
 
 The tone of his voice, as he spoke that single word, be 
 tokened the deepest admiration and reverence; and as he 
 lifted his piercing eyes to her soft and liquid orbs, his face 
 became suffused with an expression of dove-like sweetness, 
 which imparted to it a strange and picturesque beauty. 
 
 " You have returned without loss of time," said Havilah, 
 smiling kindly upon the youth. 
 
 "The Khadhere* loiters not on the road which brings 
 her master hither," replied Abdoul. 
 
 " Abdoul loves El Fureidis," said Havilah. " Father La- 
 pierre," and she took in hers the hand of the hitherto unob 
 servant old man, who was gazing up at the stars, "it is 
 Abdoul ; he has returned from Beyrout." 
 
 The aged missionary looked down, recognized the youth, 
 and, laying a hand on his shoulder, exclaimed fervently, 
 " God bless you, my son ; you are welcome ! " 
 
 " Come with us, Abdoul," said Havilah; "my father's house 
 is your home in El Fureidis." 
 
 "Not so," replied Abdoul. "I have guided hither a 
 stranger fr<3m among the Franks ; I must provide him 
 shelter." 
 
 " Bring him to me," said Father Lapierre ; " my house, 
 Abdoul, is the resting-place of the stranger." 
 
 * Khadhere signifies white mare.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 21 
 
 " None knows that better than Abdoul," answered the 
 youth, reverently lifting the old man's hand to his lips. 
 Then turning to Havilah, he said, "And the healing mother, 
 lanthe, is she well ? " 
 
 A shade passed over the girl's bright features as she an 
 swered, " She complains not, but her step is slow, and her 
 cheek paler than ever." 
 
 " Has Lebanon no blessed herb," said the youth, his ex 
 pressive features full of anxiety, " that can give comfort 
 to the comforter?" 
 
 " There is a balm in Gilead, Abdoul," said Father La- 
 pierre, fervently, " and in it lanthe has steeped her soul ; 
 the rest she leaves to God." 
 
 " Allah preserve her ! " exclaimed the boy, devoutly. 
 
 " We shall see you to-morrow, Abdoul," said Havilah, as 
 she made a motion to proceed on her way. 
 
 " And my home, in the mean time, shall furnish shelter 
 and refreshment to yourself and the traveller," added Father 
 Lapierre. 
 
 " Your hospitality is well timed," replied Abdoul. " We 
 will come thither to-night." 
 
 The next moment the old man and the two maidens dis 
 appeared down a steep flight of steps cut in the rock ; and 
 Meredith and Abdoul, mounting their horses, proceeded by 
 a more circuitous route in the direction of Father Lapierre's 
 humble dwelling:.
 
 22 
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 As the church, which was the scene of the good father's 
 priestly labors, constituted the crowning point of the terraced 
 slope to which clung the mountain village, so at the foot 
 of the declivity, overhung by the habitations of his flock, 
 was the spot which the aged man had chosen for the 
 home of his privacy and repose. El Fureidis, like most vil 
 lages of the Lebanon range, was built upon successive 
 terraces or embankments, rude walls of stone having been 
 constructed for the support of the light mould, which was 
 thus protected from the washing of the mountain torrents 
 and made subservient to cultivation. Hence many of the 
 dwellings in their gradation downwards were completely 
 overshadowed by those of the upper range, it being no 
 infrequent circumstance for the court-yard of one villager 
 to form a perfect level with the flat roof of his neighbor 
 of the succeeding terrace. 
 
 From this species of oversight, the cottage of Father 
 Lapierre was happily exempt, being situated at the foot 
 of an abruptly projecting cliff, and its seclusion rendered 
 still more complete by a thick grove of olive and mulberry 
 trees, which skirted the edge of the precipice. So snugly 
 indeed was the little dwelling located beneath the natural 
 parapet of rock, that our weary traveller, having cautiously 
 followed Abdoul down the circuitous bridle-path that led 
 through the village, and now gained a comparatively level
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 23 
 
 space of ground, would impatiently have spurred his horse 
 past the destined resting-place, which he wholly failed to 
 observe, had he not been arrested by the voice of the old 
 man, who had already reached the spot, and was awaiting 
 his guests at the threshold. 
 
 As Meredith responded to Father Lapierre's welcoming 
 ejaculation by reining in his horse, and casting around him 
 in the dim light a glance of surprise and inquiry, his ven 
 erable hos advanced a few steps, and, with dignified hospi 
 tality, took the Englishman's bridle in one hand, while he 
 stretched the other towards him, saying, " Alight, my son ; 
 it has been a wild night, and if you encountered the thun 
 der-gust among the mountains, you must stand in sore need 
 of rest and refreshment." 
 
 "Thank you, my kind friend," said Meredith, as he 
 frankly grasped the old man's hand; "I am indeed ex 
 hausted, and shall be most grateful for your hospitality." 
 
 " You are burning with fever," said the good missionary, 
 as he felt his guest's heated palm. " I fear, too, you have 
 been drenched with the rain," he continued, as he preceded 
 Meredith through the doorway which led into the principal 
 room of his dwelling. " Unless the noise of that telltale 
 waterfall deceive me, Abdoul, the showers have been heav 
 ier above than for many weeks past ; " and, as he spoke, 
 he glanced questioningly at the young Arab, who, having 
 followed them into the cottage, now struck a light, which 
 sent a feeble glimmer through the apartment. 
 
 " The Frank has seen the big clouds burst on Lebanon, 
 and has heard the rushing of the Baruk fountains, which 
 will not soon be dry again," said the boy, as he placed the 
 iron lamp that he had been trimming in a stone niche in 
 the wall, and hastened to obey the calls of his own and 
 Meredith's horses, which were neighing loudly outside.
 
 24 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 The old man laid his hand on Meredith's shoulder, felt 
 the dampness of his garments, then, with an expressive 
 gesture, stepped quickly into a sort of shed adjoining the 
 dwelling, and, returning with fuel, busied himself in lighting 
 a fire, his guest in the mean time leaning heavily against the 
 rough-plastered wall, and making a curious survey of the 
 unfamiliar objects around him. 
 
 Humble as was the home of Father Lapierre, it neverthe 
 less combined not a few elements of interest, since the 
 grandeur of a remote antiquity, the primitive usages of 
 Eastern life, and the refinements of modern civilization 
 were all combined in its construction. The classic pillars 
 and sculptured facade which adorned its portal, no less than 
 the perfect proportions of its principal apartment, proclaimed 
 it the ruin of some wayside shrine or ancient sepulchre, the 
 origin and use of which were buried among the secrets of 
 the past, and were matters of but little interest to the 
 Syrian peasant, who, in process of time, had found a home 
 within its walls, and added to it the few and unostentatious 
 comforts which his simple life demanded. But if there was 
 a marked incongruity between the remnants of ancient 
 architecture and the rough indications of peasant life and 
 labor, there was a still greater contrast between the Oriental 
 character evinced in all these objects and those evidences of 
 ingenuity and convenience which were conspicuous in the 
 few articles of "Western use and luxury which the hand of 
 affection, rather than any self-seeking on the part of Father 
 Lapierre, had introduced into the dwelling since he became 
 its occupant 
 
 Thus, as Meredith took a rapid survey of everything 
 within the range of his vision, he scarcely knew whether to 
 feel most astonished at the graceful stone shafts and noble 
 archway, at the earthen fireplace, primitive cooking uten-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 25 
 
 sils, and hard clay floor, or at the hanging book-shelves, 
 glazed cabinet of curiosities, and clock of American manu 
 facture, which hung upon the walls ; while his aged host, 
 with long black robes and snowy beard, seemed more fully 
 to represent a patriarchal age than anything associated with 
 the present. 
 
 The somewhat severe and monastic character of the little 
 domicile, as discerned by the dim lamplight, and the damp, 
 earthy chilliness of the atmosphere within its low stone 
 walls, gave place to comparative cheerfulness and warmth, 
 as the fire which Father Lapierre was but a moment in 
 lighting sent abroad its ruddy glow. And now the old man, 
 with an alertness of movement which seemed to contradict 
 his extremely venerable appearance, applied himself to such 
 other hospitable tasks as the occasion demanded. Lifting a 
 piece of coarse matting, which served to divide the apart 
 ment from a small dormitory in the rear, he disappeared for 
 an instant, then, returning with a thick goat-skin burnous 
 over his arm, invited his guest to exchange the damp frieze 
 shooting-jacket which he wore, for the ample Arab garment. 
 
 Meredith would have resisted, but there was a gentle 
 authority in the manner of his host which enforced com 
 pliance, and in a moment more the muscular young Eng 
 lishman, who would have scorned such propositions if 
 otherwise recommended, found himself wrapped in the folds 
 of rough cloth, and seeking temporary repose on the low 
 divan which ran around the room. 
 
 Here, stretched at full length, but with no disposition 
 to lose himself in sleep, he watched with interest and 
 curiosity the operations of the missionary and of Abdoul, 
 who returned after a brief absence. 
 
 Preparations for an evening repast were evidently going 
 forward. It was the work of but a moment for Father 
 3
 
 26 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 Lapierre to take from his larder the simple articles of 
 refreshment that it afforded, and a bowl of goat's milk, 
 a small vessel containing honey, and a remnant of burghol, 
 or coarse boiled wheat, were soon set forth on the clumsy 
 tray, which, mounted on a stool, constituted his only table. 
 Some other cares, however, served to engross him more 
 fully. Opening a small cupboard in one corner of the 
 room he took from it several packages, examined their 
 labels with precision, then, selecting those which suited 
 his purpose, emptied a portion of their contents into a 
 'small mortar. He now retreated into the inner room, 
 where Meredith could distinctly hear him diligently pound 
 ing the substance, which, when sufficiently pulverized, was 
 brought to the fire in an earthen vessel, and, being mingled 
 with water, was set upon the coals to simmer. The old 
 man, with lamp in hand, was steadily watching the prepara 
 tion, which began to diffuse an agreeable fragrance through 
 the apartment, and was now and then removing the scum 
 from its surface, when the heavy door turned noiselessly 
 on its pivot,* and Abdoul entered. He wore an unmis 
 takable air of triumph, and a smile of self-gratulation 
 played round his handsome mouth as he took from his 
 head a flat tray of delicious fruit, and removed from his 
 arm a quaintly formed basket, which he proceeded to 
 unpack. The latter contained a cold fowl, a bottle of 
 transparent wine, and some thin crisp cakes, such as con 
 stitute the ordinary bread of the country. 
 
 Father Lapierre looked up as the youth entered, but 
 offered no inquiries and manifested no surprise as Abdoul 
 made a tasteful and tempting array of the viands which 
 
 * Eastern doors, instead of swinging on hinges, usually turn on a 
 central pivot resting in sockets hollowed in the floor and ceiling.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 27 
 
 he had brought. As if considering that the arrangements 
 for the meal were now complete, however, and that he 
 was called upon to serve in his capacity of host, the old 
 man rose from his stooping posture at the fire, and, drawing 
 the table into close proximity to Meredith's couch, cour 
 teously invited him to partake of the refreshment thus set 
 before him. Meredith, who had risen from his recumbent 
 posture, as he observed his host's intention, hastened to 
 entreat the latter to be seated and share the repast ; but 
 this he positively declined, and his guest, with a listless 
 and indifferent air which betrayed but little keenness of 
 appetite, prepared to do honor to the excellence of the 
 fare. His efforts were in vain, however. The pure wine 
 for which the country is justly famed seemed to course 
 through his veins like burning poison, and he experienced 
 only loathing at the first mouthful of the tender fowl, which 
 a few hours earlier he would have devoured with a 
 sportsman's eagerness. The rich grapes alone offered any 
 temptation to his parched lips. He ate a few of them, 
 then leaning his elbow on the table, while his knife and 
 fork lay idly across his plate, he sat for a moment uncon 
 sciously gazing into vacancy. 
 
 He was roused by the old man's hand placed gently upon 
 his forehead. " It is as I feared," said Father Lapierre ; 
 " you are in no condition to prove your ability as a trencher 
 man. It is but poor hospitality which urges food upon one 
 who has no inward promptings;" and as he spoke, he 
 made a motion to the watchful Abdoul, who silently removed 
 the tray. "You have been exposed to the fever of the 
 country ; indeed, you are already affected by it, as you and 
 I can both perceive," added the considerate host, laying his 
 fingers on Meredith's pulse. The speaker paused a mo 
 ment; then, as if alarmed by the evident severity of liis
 
 28 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 guest's symptoms, exclaimed, You must take my advice, 
 my son, and go at once to bed. My little cell yonder boasts 
 no luxuries, and my couch is a hard one ; but I have pre 
 pared you a soothing draught, and I trust you will find 
 your best remedy in sleep." 
 
 " Your couch, my excellent friend ? " said Meredith, rising 
 with a quick movement, then staggering back, while the 
 dizziness of his brain rendered the objects about him indis 
 tinct, "I cannot think of robbing you of the only bed 
 your house affords ; we must seek lodgings elsewhere." 
 
 " My couch," said Father Lapierre, in reply, " is any spot 
 where I have space to spread my burnous and stretch my 
 limbs ; habit has made me independent of what other men 
 call ease. For yourself, the same chance, or rather Provi 
 dence, which made you my guest, makes me your medical 
 adviser ; and the hakeem of an Eastern village is wont to 
 be implicitly obeyed." 
 
 As he spoke, he raised the strip of matting and looped it 
 firmly against the ceiling, thereby disclosing an inner room 
 or closet, which contained only a narrow iron bedstead, a 
 large oaken chest, and a few garments hanging from the 
 walls. " Abdoul will bring your saddle-bags hither," con 
 tinued he, " and for the present you must content yourself 
 with these narrow quarters, and the assurance that, if you 
 cannot enjoy the comforts of an English home, you shall 
 have every care which could be rendered you in your own 
 father's house." 
 
 There was something in the old man's dignified and pater 
 nal tone of command which bore down all opposition, and 
 Meredith, in his weak and prostrate condition, could only 
 thank him and submit. The traveller's luggage, therefore, 
 was instantly brought, and while he took possession of his 
 unpretending bedroom Father Lapierre returned to the
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 29 
 
 preparation of that healing medicament of which he had so 
 truly foreseen the use, and which was still steeping over the 
 fire. 
 
 Some hours passed on. The not unpalatable dose had 
 been administered, and had brought to the senses and limbs 
 of the patient a certain degree of repose, though sleep was 
 still far from his eyelids. The fire burned low in the sunken 
 fireplace, diffusing now and then a flickering light through 
 the outer apartment, but leaving the inner in complete 
 shadow. The solemn hush of night was undisturbed save 
 by the monotonous plashing of the neighboring waterfall, 
 the barking of a village dog, or the sharp cry of a jackal 
 in the distance. But though all within doors was studiously 
 quiet, it was not the quiet of slumber ; for Father Lapierre 
 had devoted the night to watching, his anxiety concerning 
 his patient being quickened by the fact that the narcotic 
 had taken only partial effect, and Abdoul had wakened from 
 his first sound sleep to creep near the fire, crouch over it 
 for greater warmth, and spread his thin, slender hands in 
 front of the decaying embers. Thus as Meredith lay 
 motionless on his little pallet, gazing with strained and 
 feverish intensity into the room beyond, the picture which 
 it presented was that of a noble, hermit-like figure, kneeling 
 beside the low divan of the opposite wall, his long, white 
 beard sweeping the pages of an open Bible, and his hoary 
 head resting on his hands, while his heart was engaged in 
 midnight devotion, and the more striking from his utter 
 contrast with the venerable missionary the lithe, wiry 
 form of the Arab boy, drawn up so that his arms embraced 
 his knees, his small white turban, gay red vest, and striped 
 abaya brought out in strong relief against a dark back 
 ground, while now and then the light flame played. over his 
 swarthy face, revealing the intense brightness of his eyes, 
 3*
 
 gO EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 and more than once a fierce scowl, perhaps of malice, per- 
 hap^ of defiance, shot across his expressive countenance, as 
 he peered eagerly in the direction of the dormitory. 
 
 It was but one of many visions which passed before 
 the eyes of Meredith during the succeeding weeks that he 
 lay imprisoned on that little couch, and, as now the form of 
 the grave old man constituted the calm, strong background 
 to the picture, while Abdoul's keen face and savage glances 
 gave a startling wildness to the scene, so through days of 
 weariness and nights of delirium the presence of the good 
 old priest invariably imparted a sweet sense of repose and 
 serenity to the sufferer, whom the sight of the Arab boy, or 
 the mere sound of his voice, never failed to agitate or dis 
 turb. To the excited and feverish brain of Meredith it 
 was as if the one were the herald of sleep and refreshment, 
 the other, the harbinger of restlessness and pain ; the one, 
 a soothing angel of peace, the other, a disturbing spirit of 
 unrest. 
 
 The nerves which had become irritated, and the pulse 
 which had been quickened by the old man's occasional 
 absence, were quieted and subdued from the moment that 
 he re-entered his dwelling ; the eyes, which had glared with 
 unnatural intensity, while watching the motions of the agile 
 youth, were closed in gentle slumber when the calm old 
 man quietly assumed at the bedside the offices of a nurse. 
 On one occasion, when Meredith's fever was at its height, 
 and Father Lapierre had been peremptorily summoned from 
 home, a troop of village children, attracted by curiosity, and 
 unprohibited by Abdoul, took possession of the outer room 
 of the dwelling, and by their juvenile pranks and licensed 
 stares excited the Englishman almost to frenzy. At the 
 return of the pastor, and at his brief expostulation, they 
 readily dispersed; but the harmless little band continued
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 81 
 
 for several days to haunt the brain of the sick man^in 
 whose eyes Father Lapierre was glorified as an ang^r of 
 light, whose power had put to flight those imps of evil 
 which Abdoul, the prince of darkness, had maliciously con 
 jured up. 
 
 And once, once only, when the boy had been sent on a 
 distant mission, when Father Lapierre was reading in his 
 outer room, and when the sick man, who had been all day 
 under the influence of a powerful opiate, was supposed to 
 be still asleep, the outer door turned gently on its stone 
 pivot, the glow of the Syrian twilight gushed in at the 
 aperture, and there, amid the golden halo, stood the slender 
 form of a young girl, the same whom Meredith had seen 
 in the church on the first evening of his arrival, who had 
 seemed to him more than humanly lovely then, and who 
 appeared to him now less a woman than a seraph. She 
 spoke, and though her words and her modern Greek accent 
 were unintelligible to the Englishman, her voice charmed 
 all his senses ; she smiled, and he read in her face all the 
 heavenly beatitudes. A moment more, and she was gone, 
 and with her went the western sunlight, and gloom over 
 spread the room again. 
 
 Day after day, at the selfsame hour, the sick man 
 watched the door-way ; but it opened no more to give 
 admittance to the young girl, whose solitary visit became 
 at length to the invalid like one of the visions of his 
 fancy. And as such it was treasured up, and cherished 
 in his memory. Henceforth she mingled in his dreams, 
 and lived in the world of his imagination. She was the 
 spirit of good, walking hand in hand with the old man, 
 adding beauty to his strength. He was a wand of power, 
 she a garment of light; he was a healing influence, she 
 an angel of grace. Against them both, Abdoul and all
 
 32 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 igents of darkness were powerless indeed; and, as 
 lally the fever was allayed, and the invalid progressed 
 in his convalescence, the spectres of evil which had haunted 
 his pillow gave place to the images of sweetness and re 
 pose which now had full possession of his soul. 
 
 Thus, with Father Lapierre for his physician and nurse, 
 with Havilah for the companion of his thoughts, and the 
 constant, though unknown, minister to his wants, and with 
 God's blessing on the efforts of them both, the stranger 
 in this Syrian land found repose in the place of delirium, 
 exchanged sickness for health, and felt his burning fever 
 quenched by the dew of healing. 
 
 Was it not typical of a deeper, holier ministry, under whose 
 sacred influence the spirit long tossed with doubt should 
 find a truer rest, the soul sick with vain longings should 
 be satisfied, and life's varied ills should all find their 
 cure at the hand of God's faithful servants, and under the 
 blessing of Him who has promised, " Unto them that fear 
 my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise, with healing 
 on his wings " ?
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHAT newness of life there is in the recovery from long 
 illness, what consciousness of that secret spring of power 
 and freedom, which glows once more in every member, - 
 what music in the cheerful sound of human voices, so long 
 subdued or hushed to silence in the sick-room, what elo 
 quence and pathos in the universal voice of Nature, when 
 she first welcomes forth the convalescent! 
 
 Especially is this the case when one rouses, as Meredith 
 did, from the torpor of utter prostration, and, aided by a 
 constitution of unusual vigor, feels the current of health 
 flow back, not by slow and almost imperceptible degrees, 
 but in a full, strong, gushing tide. 
 
 "When he first emerged through the arched doorway 
 of his little prison-house, his limbs tottered, and he leaned 
 heavily on the arm of Father Lapierre, who had with some 
 difficulty persuaded him to make an effort to which he 
 believed himself wholly incompetent. But when seated 
 on a fallen column just outside the dwelling, the soft sum 
 mer air speedily revived him, every fragrant breeze seemed 
 to bring with it new strength, and, his mind and body alike 
 invigorated by a sense of contact with the outside world, 
 he felt ready and impatient for new exertions. So rapidly 
 indeed did his elastic system recover its wonted tone, that, 
 so far from encouraging, Father Lapierre now became 
 only anxious to restrain his charge ; but it was no longer 
 
 c
 
 34 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 possible : a few days had sufficed to accomplish a restora- 
 tiflP which a less powerful nature would have required 
 as many weeks to attain; the prisoner had suddenly, and 
 without warning, burst his bonds, and Meredith felt himself 
 a free man again. 
 
 How beautiful was the scene which lay before him, 
 beckoning on every side, and inviting him to wander forth 
 and explore its hidden recesses ! 
 
 Mount Lebanon was teeming in all the richness of her 
 summer verdure; her choicest flowers were sending forth 
 their perfume, and fruits of every clime were ripening in 
 the sunshine of her vales. The rich plains at her feet 
 were rejoicing in their wealth of waving grain, and her 
 terraced slopes were promising to the husbandman that 
 still more precious harvest which the olive and mulberry 
 grove yields. The gushing sound of waterfalls proclaimed 
 the existence of those pure, refreshing springs, which carry 
 richness and fertility in their course, and the lofty moun 
 tains, which hemmed in the prospect, held out an irresisti 
 ble temptation to climb their summits, and catch glimpses 
 of the picturesque views beyond. 
 
 Nor was Meredith slow in obeying nature's summons. 
 His newly acquired strength was each day tested to the 
 utmost, his feet urged on and his weariness beguiled by 
 the novelty, strangeness, and bewildering beauty which 
 were disclosed at every step, and oftentimes he was only 
 reminded of his weakness when finding himself stretched 
 in utter exhaustion upon some moss-grown rock, or in the 
 shade of some spreading tree. 
 
 His first essay at pedestrian exercise brought him 
 within the precincts of the village, and a part of the 
 succeeding day was spent in strolling among its cultivated 
 terraces. Nor was there here any lack of novelty and
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 35 
 
 diversion for the stranger. The picturesque costume, rude 
 
 P 
 songs, and curious implements of the peasants at work 
 
 in their gardens and mulberry plantations, the various 
 domestic occupations which the Avomen were carrying on 
 in the open air, together with the industrious rearing 
 and feeding of the silk-worms, which were the chief object 
 of the housewives' care, all combined to arrest the traveller's 
 attention, and agreeably occupy his thoughts. 
 
 His observations could not, however, be carried on 
 without his becoming, in turn, an object of curiosity and 
 interest to the simple villagers. All eyes turned upon 
 him as he walked, labor suddenly ceased wherever he made 
 his appearance, children dogged his footsteps, and lean 
 dogs barked at him from every court-yard, creating a 
 degree of publicity so distasteful to his reserved character, 
 that he finally turned his back upon the little hamlet, with 
 a resolve to abjure its vicinity on future occasions. 
 
 The next morning, therefore, he took his course in a con 
 trary direction, and, following a little goat-path, plunged 
 down a deep ravine, which stretched in front of Father La- 
 pierre's dwelling, and at the bottom of which wound the 
 clear mountain stream, the murmur of whose waterfall was 
 audible within the cottage, and constituted, as we have ob 
 served, the old man's barometer. 
 
 On the opposite side of the deeply wooded gorge, the 
 mountains rose with unusual abruptness, and although cov 
 ered at their base with luxuriant vegetation, their sides 
 were almost destitute of verdure, save where the hand of 
 industry had improved the sparse soil, and their tops pre 
 sented a stern, bare surface, which formed a severe outline 
 against the clear blue sky. Half-way up one of these giant 
 slopes, and only separated from El Fureidis by the deep 
 cleft in the mountains, was an ancient, irregularly-built
 
 36 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 convent, scarcely distinguishable from the huge mass of 
 rock Avhich had furnished the material for its construction, 
 and out of the heart of which it had been partially hewn. 
 From every point of view the convent was a prominent 
 and striking feature in the landscape : it was the deep-toned 
 bell of its high tower which had sounded Meredith's first 
 welcome to El Fureidis : he had in the earliest hour of his 
 release from illness been attracted by the picturesque old 
 eyry, and it now furnished the object and motive of his 
 morning's excursion. 
 
 But despite his experience oh his recent journey, he 
 had yet to become convinced of the deceptions peculiar 
 to these mountain districts, where the existence of a nar 
 row gorge, or empty river-bed, may place weary miles 
 between places apparently within a stone's throw of each 
 other. 
 
 Thus he toiled on for some time, at first with buoyancy 
 and zest, as occasional openings in the landscape revealed 
 the convent, apparently within half an hour's walk, then 
 with an air of languor and fatigue, as, after descending many 
 a precipice, and climbing many an ascent, he lost sight of 
 the building altogether, and began to suspect that it was still 
 far distant. He had crossed the little winding stream so 
 many times that he had become bewildered, and uncertain 
 whether it were the right or left bank which he ought to 
 pursue, and at length, having reached a point where the 
 goat-path that he had been following suddenly ceased, he 
 paused and looked around him for some landmark by which 
 to direct his steps. The footprints of various animals were 
 here and there discernible, but they crossed each other in 
 different directions, giving no indication of an accessible 
 route. Far up on the slope above him, however, he could 
 observe a flock of sheep, climbing the mountain-side in long
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 37 
 
 s.ingle file, and, resolving to follow these dumb guides, he 
 set out anew, confident in the belief that they would lead 
 him into the vicinity of the convent sheepfold. 
 
 It was noAv high noon. The sun, from which the thick 
 shade of the valley had hitherto protected him, beat merci 
 lessly upon his head, as he toiled across barren slopes and 
 around flinty ridges, still keeping in view the flock of noise 
 less-footed animals, and following the long fleecy line, as one 
 might follow in the white wake of a steadily receding ship. 
 The consciousness of his recent illness, and of his still di 
 minished strength, began now to force itself upon him, and 
 his curiosity to visit and explore the Maronite convent was 
 lost in the stronger and more immediate desire to gain some 
 shady retreat, where he might rest awhile before proceeding 
 on his way. 
 
 It was with no slight satisfaction, therefore, that, as he 
 rounded a little point behind which he had a moment before 
 lost sight of his fleecy convoy, he beheld one of those basins 
 of verdure which are sometimes found even at great alti 
 tudes among the mountains, and towards which the sheep, 
 having now broken into a full run, were hastening with a 
 speed' which betokened the refreshment they anticipated 
 beneath its shade. 
 
 With equal eagerness, and an accelerated pace, Meredith 
 followed, and, without caring farther to pursue the sheep, 
 which speedily disappeared in the thicket, he threw himself 
 down on a flowery bank under the shade of a huge wild 
 oak, and, baring his temples to the breeze, indulged in the 
 long, free respiration which relieves the frame overtaxed by 
 exercise and fatigue. 
 
 How long he lay here he scarcely knew ; indeed, he could 
 not be sure that he had not fallen into a light slumber, when 
 he was startled by a slight crackling sound, as of some one 
 4
 
 38 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 parting the bushes which formed a complete undergrowth 
 in the vicinity- of his resting-place. Bethinking himself of 
 his need of a guide, and supposing this might be the shep 
 herd in search of his stray flock, he suddenly raised himself 
 on his elbow and uttered a loud " Halloo ! " The sound had 
 scarcely left his lips, when he distinguished, just above his 
 head, a footfall scarcely heavier than that of a hare or an 
 antelope, and, with a light bound, a figure stood before him, 
 which caused him to spring to his feet, and stand for an 
 instant almost paralyzed with astonishment. It was so like 
 the young girl whom he had seen, clothed in white, in the 
 village church, and who, similarly attired, had dawned upon 
 him like a vision in his sick-room, that he was sure he could 
 not be mistaken as to her identity ; and yet it was so unlike 
 the creature of his imagination and his dreams, that he half 
 suspected his senses were playing him false. Her long 
 white robe was exchanged for a full skirt of the striped 
 gilk-and-wool material common among the Arabs, and 
 which, terminating above the ankle, displayed her neatly 
 fitting little boot of red Damascus leather. She wore a 
 jacket of scarlet cloth, and, in place of the long white muslin 
 veil, a gay kefiyeh, or striped handkerchief, fantastically 
 bound around her head, its long pointed ends, with their 
 deep silken fringe, shading each side of her face. 
 
 Beside her, attendant on her slightest motion, was a small, 
 graceful gazelle, whose large, dark eyes, invariably follow 
 ing those of his mistress, seemed to impart to her a double 
 power of observation, and aided not a little in disconcerting 
 Meredith, who, as he sprung to his feet, found himself face 
 to face with both pair of melting orbs. Had Diana herself, 
 attended by one of her wood-nymphs, suddenly burst from 
 the thicket, Meredith could scarcely have experienced any 
 greater awe and amazement than that which took posses-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 39 
 
 sion of him at this sudden and unlooked-for appearance of 
 Havilah and her little companion. He commenced an awk 
 ward and stammering apology for his rude shout to the 
 supposed shepherd, but was interrupted and still further em 
 barrassed by a sweet, child-like laugh, a spontaneous gush 
 of merriment, which at once betrayed the young girl's 
 natural and innocent consciousness of the surprise her pres 
 ence occasioned. 
 
 " I am a stranger," he once more began ; " and " He 
 checked himself abruptly, as the thought darted- through his 
 mind that she could not probably comprehend a word of 
 English, or any other language he had at command. He 
 now actually colored with confusion, for Meredith, the stu 
 dent, the traveller, the man of thirty, was a novice in female 
 society, and utterly free from vanity in respect to the sex. 
 Moreover, despite the animation of Havilah's manner, and 
 the peculiarity of her dress, which imparted to her a singu 
 larly youthful appearance, he could not forget the sanctity 
 with which he had hitherto regarded her, nor the spiritual 
 influence which her presence had exercised upon him. 
 
 The unsophisticated mountain girl was, however, far from 
 sharing his embarrassment. She did not even seem to per 
 ceive it, but, responding merely to the doubt expressed in his 
 countenance, said with frank simplicity, speaking in his 
 mother tongue, with merely that slight shade of accent 
 which proved it was not habitual to her, " I understand, 
 I speak English, and it is the English stranger, Father 
 Lapierre's guest, whom I am happy to have the honor of 
 seeing in El Fureidis." She bent her head gracefully as she 
 thus saluted him, and, though Meredith's curiosity regarding 
 her continued unsatisfied, he felt that no studied reception 
 could be more courtly or more dignified than that with 
 which this young creature, half child, half woman, thus
 
 40 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 acknowledged his acquaintance, and welcomed him to her 
 mountain home. 
 
 Reassured by the familiar language and usages with 
 which an Englishman, least of all men, knows how to dis 
 pense, he bowed, thanked her, and added, " I left Father 
 Lapierre's cottage this morning for the purpose of visiting 
 the convent I have been wandering for some hours 
 through the valley, and when I shouted so loud, it was in the 
 hope of hailing a guide, for I find myself completely lost 
 among your hills." 
 
 "Not lost," exclaimed she, with an arch expression of 
 amusement at the fruitless circuit he had made, and his 
 ignorance of the present locality ; " for, see ! we are close 
 to the village." 
 
 As she spoke, she darted through the woods, waving her 
 hand, and beckoning him to follow her. So rapid was her 
 movement, that ere he could part the thick undergrowth 
 sufficiently to admit his tall form, she had gained the extrem 
 ity of the little thicket, and when he emerged from the 
 wood she stood awaiting him on the verge of a giddy preci 
 pice, which overhung a deep valley below. 
 
 At one point of this mountain height a huge mass of 
 rock stretched itself above the gorge, projecting its sharp 
 angles and slender needles of flint into mid-ether, and 
 apparently offering no foothold save to the birds of the air. 
 Giving one glance back to see if she were observed and 
 followed, Havilah mounted this wild acclivity with a step as 
 light and fearless as that of the gazelle by which she was 
 closely pursued ; without pausing to take breath, or measure 
 her course, she scaled, one after another, each intervening 
 cliff, and faltered not until she stood on the outermost pro 
 jection, a thin surface of table-rock, which overhung the 
 abyss at a fearful angle. Startled at her temerity, and
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 41 
 
 trembling for her safety, Meredith, himself expert in moun 
 tain exercises, followed as he best might, but soon found 
 himself distanced by her nimble foot ; and when at length 
 he beheld her, just floating, as it were, on the edge of the 
 giddy parapet, he half believed her some mountain sprite, 
 and expected that the next moment would see her vanish 
 into nothingness. 
 
 A touchingly human expression overspread her coun 
 tenance, however, as, looking up to address a word to her 
 companion, she observed him standing at some little distance, 
 pale with the efforts he had made, and struck dumb by hor 
 ror at her perilous position. Wholly mistaking the cause of 
 that hesitation, which forbade him to venture on the thin 
 platform of rock that seemed scarcely capable of sustain 
 ing her own light weight, and noticing only his sudden 
 pallor, she unconsciously relieved his agitation on her 
 account by at once deserting her exposed post ; and, hasten 
 ing to his side, she exclaimed, in a tone of regret and 
 anxiety, "You are ill; I have been very thoughtless; I 
 quite forgot how ill you had been." 
 
 "0 no," answered Meredith, at once deprecating her 
 sympathy ; " I am well, perfectly well, except as you make 
 me sick with fears for your safety. I trembled lest that 
 slender ledge of rock should give way beneath your feet." 
 
 " What ! the rock ? the Falcon Perch give way ? " re 
 plied she. " O no, it is as firm as the heart of the mountain. 
 M. Lapierre and my father often sit there together to watch 
 the coming storm, and Ayib and I come hither to see the 
 purple sunsets and the rainbows ; " and she laid her hand 
 affectionately on the head of the little animal by her side, 
 who, as if catching his mistress's expression, seemed to 
 peer into Meredith's face with an air of tender concern. 
 "But you are fatigued," continued Havilah, evidently 
 4*
 
 42 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 unconvinced by Meredith's emphatic assertions; "we will 
 return home. I only wished to show you how near we are 
 to a place of rest and shelter. The village is just beneath 
 us: let us go there at once." 
 
 "Not until I too have mounted the perch, and taken 
 one look into the valley," said Meredith, pressing eagerly 
 forward, now that she began to urge him to retrace his 
 steps. With simple earnestness she held out her hand 
 to assist his progress ; but his sensitive pride had taken 
 alarm at the possible imputation of cowardice or weakness 
 on his part, and, feigning not to observe her proffered aid, 
 he bounded forward, with an agility which would have 
 done credit to a chamois-hunter, and in an instant stood 
 erect on the giddy eminence, which a moment before he 
 had shuddered to see Havilah occupy. 
 
 Lost, however, was all sense of personal mortification or 
 triumph, as, gazing from his eyry-like position, he saw 
 spread below him, like a little amphitheatre, the village 
 which he had left in the morning, and perceived at a glance 
 that, having nearly made the circuit of the place, he now 
 approached it from an unexpected quarter, and obtained of 
 it a more extended view than had yet been afforded him. 
 Hitherto his observations had been limited to the dwellings 
 of the peasants, and the village church, which stood on the 
 topmost terrace above them. Now the first thing which 
 struck his eye was a tall, narrow building with a high bell- 
 tower, which he at once recognized as one of the silk-facto 
 ries common to the district ; and near it, embosomed in a 
 grove of fruit and ornamental trees, a tasteful house and 
 gardens, evidently the residence of some European family. 
 The neat white villa was separated from the factory and its 
 unsightly appendages by a thick mulberry plantation ; but 
 all were evidently the property of one owner, being built
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 43 
 
 on a succession of similarly constructed terraces, and divided 
 from the more ancient village by a clear, impetuous stream, 
 which gushed down the mountain-side in a foaming cascade, 
 then, rapidly coursing through its narrow bed, turned the 
 wheel of the modern factory, as well as that of an old olive- 
 mill on the opposite bank. 
 
 "My father's silk-factory," said Havilah, as, having 
 watched Meredith's eye, while it roamed delightedly over 
 the fair prospect, she observed him glance at the tall building, 
 and turn towards her with a look of inquiry ; and ere the 
 words by which she had anticipated his questioning had 
 passed her lips, the tower-bell sounded the hour of noon, and 
 the work-people streamed through the doorway and sepa 
 rated to their dwellings. 
 
 " My father will be at leisure now, for the rest of the day," 
 continued Havilah, after a moment's pause, "and my mother 
 will expect us yonder to the noonday meal," and she waved 
 her hand in the direction of the villa. " Come with me ; 
 the stranger has always a welcome there." 
 
 As she spoke she turned to depart, and Meredith followed 
 her in silence, a new light having dawned upon him con 
 cerning the probable birth and station of his lovely young 
 acquaintance and guide. 
 
 They soon regained the little thicket, and Havilah struck 
 at once into a pathway which wound gradually downwards. 
 They had proceeded but a short distance, however, when 
 they reached a little opening in the woods, an oasis of flow 
 ers and verdure, which presented at the moment of their 
 approach a scene of picturesque novelty and pastoral beauty, 
 such as were associated in the mind of our traveller with 
 patriarchal ages, in the primitive life of the world. Be 
 neath the ruins of an ancient grotto, a fountain of crystal 
 water gushed from the living rock, danced and leaped
 
 44 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 awhile in the ever-brimming basin beneath, then rippled 
 away to swell the gurgling streams which everywhere run 
 among these fruitful hills. Two immense watering-troughs 
 stood near, which it was the care of the villagers daily to 
 fill for the use of the animals pastured on the heights above. 
 A couple of Syrian peasant-girls had just completed this 
 task at the moment when Meredith and his companion ap 
 proached the spot, and now sat leaning on their heavy 
 water-jugs, idly watching the flock of sheep which had been 
 Meredith's unerring guides, and which crowded and pressed 
 around the troughs, where they were eager to slake their 
 noonday thirst. The two damsels started up as they caught 
 sight of the new-comers, drew their white veils partially 
 across their faces, made a formal salutation to the stranger, 
 and busied themselves with alacrity in dispersing the sheep 
 in the neighborhood of the fountain, in order to clear a pas 
 sage for Havilah, to whom they evidently looked up with 
 sincere and affectionate respect, while they laughingly re 
 sponded to some playful remark which she addressed to 
 them in their native language. 
 
 Meredith now perceived, for the first time, that Havilah 
 carried in her hand a little pitcher, of antique form, and at 
 once divined the purpose of her excursion, which was 
 doubtless to fill the vessel at the clear, cool spring. He 
 thought of the maidens of ancient Scripture and of classic 
 lore, and wondered if ever a daughter in Israel, or a 
 Delphic virgin, was half so beautiful as she looked when 
 kneeling for a moment beside the fountain, or when rising 
 and inviting him to taste the water of the thrice-blessed 
 spring. 
 
 " How delicious ! how pure ! how icy cold ! " he ex 
 claimed, as, after imbibing a refreshing draught, he removed 
 the pitcher from his lips, dashed the remainder of its con-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 45 
 
 tents on the grass, and, refilling, presented it to the young 
 girl, whose face glowed with pleasure at his praise of her 
 favorite fountain. 
 
 "It is the freshly melted snow of Lebanon, filtered 
 through crystal and spar," said Havilah. " We call it 
 Ayn el Bered (the ice-cold spring). M. Lapierre ascribes 
 to it marvellous virtues ; my father calls it our native 
 Champagne ; to my mother it is more welcome than sherbet. 
 She will thirst for it now that the dinner-hour draws near, 
 and I must be in haste." So saying, she turned into the 
 abruptly descending path, and, carrying her brimming pitcher 
 with a steady hand, proceeded at so rapid a rate that Mere 
 dith could scarcely keep pace with her flying feet, and had 
 no opportunity to relieve her of her light burden. She 
 paused at length beneath a cluster of fig-trees, which, with the 
 tangled vines that interlaced their boughs, formed a com 
 plete arbor at the entrance of the village, and, waiting an 
 instant for her companion's approach, pointed to a little foot 
 bridge just beyond, exclaiming, " Yonder come M. Lapierre 
 and my father." 
 
 Meredith glanced in the direction indicated, and at once 
 recognized his aged friend, accompanied by an individual 
 who, although he made no claim to British origin, might 
 well have been mistaken by the Englishman for one of his 
 own countrymen. He was somewhat beyond middle life, 
 and his person, though below the medium height, was ro 
 bust almost to corpulency ; still his step was elastic, and 
 his every movement and gesture betokened force and ner 
 vous energy. He wore the European costume, with the 
 exception of a red tarboosh, which sat low on his forehead, 
 but suffered a few locks of iron-gray hair to escape and 
 cluster round his temples. Nothing could exceed the good- 
 humor which reigned in his round, florid face. It was one
 
 46 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 of those countenances on which all the social virtues seem 
 written. One felt at a glance that here was a man who 
 never wore a mask ; a man whose frank, confiding nature 
 revealed itself in every feature ; a man whom the world 
 might disappoint, but could never sour, whom his fellow- 
 men might defraud, deceive, betray, but could never teach 
 distrust. 
 
 It was next to impossible that such a man should bestow 
 other than a cordial greeting even upon a stranger. 
 
 As Havilah approached, a few steps in advance of Mer 
 edith, and whispered a word in her father's ear, he pat 
 ted her head approvingly, gave an expressive nod, then 
 came forward with both hands outstretched. Every friendly 
 assurance, every pledge of future hospitality, were conveyed 
 in the warmth with which he now saluted the Englishman, 
 not as an alien, a passing tourist, a possible intruder, but 
 as his own acknowledged and honored, though hitherto un 
 known guest. 
 
 Meredith was surprised out of his habitual reserve. The 
 customary barriers, whether of diffidence, indifference, or 
 pride, with which he was wont to protect himself from social 
 contact, gave way before the heartiness of his new friend's 
 words and manner, and, almost to his own astonishment, he 
 found himself responding to them with a grateful cordiality 
 such as had never been called forth by the vast amount of 
 adulation which had been wasted upon him from his boyhood. 
 
 " I have been absent in Damascus during the past week," 
 said the silk manufacturer, " or our good father would not 
 so long have enjoyed exclusive possession of his guest. It 
 is now my turn." 
 
 " You have wandered too far on the mountains, my son," 
 interposed M. Lapierre, his eye resting with some anxiety 
 upon his patient ; " you are overwearied."
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 47 
 
 " "We have all done our day's work, I suspect," said Mere 
 dith's self-appointed host ; " you among your parishioners, 
 M. Lapierre, I among my work-people, and Mr. I beg 
 your pardon, sir " 
 
 " Meredith." 
 
 " And Mr. Meredith upon the mountains. So now to 
 dinner, or Mother lanthe will be impatient, and will send 
 her little Turkish damsel in search of us." 
 
 As he spoke, he drew the Englishman's arm within 
 his, and they took their way through the mulberry grove, 
 in the direction of the little white villa, Meredith cheerfully 
 assenting to the invitation, but looking round in vain for 
 Havilah, who was nowhere to be seen. Neither her father 
 nor M. Lapierre, however, appeared conscious of her ab 
 sence, and Meredith forbore making any comment on the 
 sudden disappearance of one whose rapid movements were 
 evidently as independent of all outward restraint, as her 
 manners were free from any other rules of etiquette than 
 those imposed by her own native grace and dignity.
 
 48 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE dwelling of the silk-manufacturer was an inex 
 pensive structure of white limestone, which, with its adjacent 
 offices, occupied no less than four artificial terraces, a cir 
 cumstance that imparted singular irregularity to the minia 
 ture villa, and added not a little to its picturesque effect. 
 
 Although a favorable slope had been selected, and the 
 terraces were of a breadth unusual in the Lebanon, the 
 level surface thus afforded was inconsiderable, the platform 
 on which the main building rested being only about twenty 
 feet wide, and the embankments successively diminishing 
 in the direction of the valley. Inconvenient as such a 
 foundation might be deemed in a practical point of view, 
 nothing could exceed the advantages it afforded in respect 
 to pure air, sunshine, and mountain scenery. The long, 
 narrow saloon which constituted the principal apartment, 
 and which, enclosed on three sides only, lay open to the 
 prospect, presented in itself an unrivalled landscape obser 
 vatory. The little wings, including one room each, which 
 stretched from it at right angles, though at a less elevation, 
 commanded the same wide expanse of garden, vineyard, 
 and plain ; the occupants of the kitchen and laundry were 
 but one degree less favored ; and even the rustic stable- 
 boy, as he groomed his master's horse, which was lodged on 
 a lower terrace still, could overlook the labors of the Syrian 
 ploughman in the grain-fields of the distant Bekaa.
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 49 
 
 The exterior of the manufacturer's mansion, like that of 
 most Eastern houses, was severely simple, presenting a 
 bare surface of wall, nowhere more than two stories in 
 height, and its monotony occasionally broken by a latticed 
 window, introduced without the slightest regard to uniform 
 ity. The care and taste, however, of which the building 
 was outwardly devoid, had been freely lavished on the 
 inner court-yard and its surrounding saloons and alcoves, 
 which, in this favored climate, constituted the reception 
 rooms and chosen retreats of the household during the warm 
 hours of the day. Here Nature and the hand of man had 
 been profuse in their gifts and adornments. The little 
 enclosure was a garden of beauty and sweetness, choicest 
 exotics and rarest shrubs vying with the native products of 
 the soil in the richness and luxuriance of their growth. 
 The rustic archways above the steps conducting from one 
 terrace to another were complete arbors of clematis and 
 wild woodbine, and the slender pillars supporting a light 
 veranda which ran around the inner wall of the dwelling 
 were enwreathed with the jessamine and the rose. 
 
 In the centre of the garden, embowered amid orange- 
 trees and oleanders, a fountain sent up its graceful jet, 
 lulling the ear with the continual play of its waters ; birds 
 of every hue sported among blossoming plants, or perched 
 boldly on window-sills and within door-ways, now and then 
 telling the story of their happy, protected lives in a gay 
 burst of song. Add to all this the purity of the summer 
 air, and the mingled fragrance continually going up like in 
 cense, and it may well be believed that this was a spot 
 endowed with power to charm all the senses into an Elys- 
 ian repose. 
 
 So thought Meredith, as, the noonday meal being passed, 
 he half reclined on the low, silken divan that stretched
 
 50 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 around the open alcove where the table had been spread, 
 and in the intervals between puffing at his perfumed nar- 
 ghileh looked abroad upon the entrancing prospect, and 
 within upon the scene of domestic peace, of which in this 
 strange land he found himself a partaker. 
 
 The host and his guests had been joined at dinner by 
 Havilah's mother, the Mother lanthe, as she was familiarly 
 termed by the primitive people of the region. She came 
 leaning on the arm of her daughter, and wrapped in a thick 
 cashmere shawl, which alone indicated the extreme delicacy 
 of a constitution that could not endure exposure to a breeze 
 so gentle as that which pervaded the apartment. One need 
 ed to bestow but a moment's glance on the mother to see 
 whence the mountain girl inherited the spiritual expression 
 which at times imparted such holy sweetness to her face. 
 Nothing could exceed the elevated, the almost unearthly 
 sanctity which marked the countenance, the manner, and 
 even the voice of the slender, shadow-like woman, the 
 marble pallor of whose face seemed enhanced by the bril 
 liancy of her dark, lustrous eyes, and whose black, wavy 
 hair drooped over her sunken cheek as if it were a mourn 
 ing badge, a token of the decay of her early bloom. There 
 was no undue claim to sympathy, however, no affectation 
 of weakness in the gentle, hostess-like manner of the in 
 valid, who, although she spoke English but imperfectly, 
 made a successful use of her knowledge of the language in 
 welcoming Meredith under her roof, accompanying her 
 broken words with a kindness of tone and earnestness of 
 gesture which left little for the tongue to express. 
 
 She sat but a short time at the table, ate sparingly of the 
 simplest food, partook of no other beverage than the water 
 of her favorite spring, and soon retired, accompanied by 
 Havilah, leaving the gentlemen to conclude the repast at 
 their leisure.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 51 
 
 They lingered awhile over the variety of choice fruits 
 which constituted their dessert ; but the table was at length 
 removed, pipes were brought, and Meredith, following his 
 host's example, applied himself, for the first time, to the en 
 joyment of the narghileh, M. Lapierre, who declined the 
 use of this Eastern luxury, engaging Avith none the less zest 
 in the conversation which it favored, and which now flowed 
 in as easy and steady a current as the light streams of 
 smoke which went curling upward. 
 
 The countenance of the middle-aged man of the trio 
 would at this moment have soothed the misanthrope, and 
 furnished a rebuke to the sceptic in the benevolent traits 
 of humanity. Men accustomed to mingle in crowded cir 
 cles, to jostle against their equals at every turn, to feel 
 ofttimes disgust and weariness at the daily requisitions of 
 social life, can form but a feeble conception of the almost 
 rapturous joy with which an individual to a great degree 
 exiled from his fellows hails the stranger, the traveller, or 
 the pilgrim, who becomes for the time a link between him 
 and the great world from which he is shut out. To the silk- 
 manufacturer, laboring in his little sphere, the arrival of the 
 Englishman, his illness, and consequent detention in El Fu- 
 reidis, so far from being matters of indifference, were subjects 
 of deep personal interest and excitement ; and now, to see 
 the invalid restored, to Avelcome him under the hospitable 
 roof, to share with him in friendly converse, and glean from 
 his lips tidings of the civilized races which he represented, 
 were to the honest host all-sufficient causes of congratulation 
 and thanksgiving. Thus his ruddy face glowed with no 
 common satisfaction and pleasure, as, leaning back on his 
 cushioned divan, and enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke, 
 he discussed with Meredith various questions of European 
 life and politics, or, voluntarily relinquishing the field to his
 
 52 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 aged friend, listened to the animated dialogues of M. La- 
 pierre and the Englishman, with that unqualified and genu 
 ine attention observable only in the unselfish and simple- 
 hearted. 
 
 They were no ordinary men with whom, in this remote 
 corner of creation, Meredith had, by a singular combination 
 of circumstances, been brought into familar relations. 
 
 A brief acquaintance with the venerable missionary 
 would have sufficed to indicate, even to the most careless 
 observer, that behind his present life of humble labor and 
 patient self-sacrifice there lay a long and varied experience, 
 rich in learning, research, incident, and travel, possibly in 
 romance, adventure, and those struggles of the heart which 
 not infrequently give a coloring to the after career. What 
 ever might have been the outward vicissitudes of his lot, 
 and his thorough and widely extended knowledge of the 
 world proved them to have been manifold, whatever 
 might have been his inward warfare, and the depth of his 
 human sympathies proclaimed it to have been keen and 
 strong, this much only was known of him with certainty. 
 
 Born of French parentage, and trained in the best schools 
 of erudition, he had early attained such masterly scholar 
 ship and developed such mental resources as promised that 
 he would one day hold a brilliant position in the learned 
 and scientific world. At the very point, however, when 
 earthly success held out its most tempting allurements, he 
 had, actuated by some strange and unaccountable impulse, 
 thrown himself into the arms of the ancient Church in whose 
 tenets he had been educated, and, devoting the treasures of 
 his intellect and the powers of his ardent nature to the ser 
 vice of that religious order over whose superstition and 
 bigotry charity draws the veil of a loving admiration for its 
 self-sacrificing zeal, he had set forth to preach the cross.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 53 
 
 We may not tell how much of human passion, of disap 
 pointed hope, of wild desperation, mingled with diviner and 
 more sanctified emotions in fostering his ardor for that cru 
 sade which commissioned him not alone as the Christian 
 soldier, but as the bold voyager, the undaunted adventurer, 
 the skilful pioneer of civilization and discovery ; nor may 
 we tell when or how, amid what Kamtschatkan snows, or 
 under what African suns, the man who was wrestling for 
 God and truth found the first ray of peace to his own soul. 
 It is enough that light shone at last upon his mental vision, 
 that with its earliest dawn he threw off the ecclesiastical 
 shackles by which he had hitherto been bound, and that, 
 receiving the Gospel like a little child, he acknowledged 
 Christ as his only master, and all men as brethren. Then 
 it was that he turned his pilgrim feet to the sacred soil of 
 Palestine, chose out his little field of labor, and, under the 
 seal of a new commission, proclaimed a pure and simple 
 faith on the hill-tops and in the valleys of that goodly moun 
 tain, Lebanon. 
 
 He was a rare and noble object, that vigorous old man. 
 The fire of his eagle eye, which had once glowed with all the 
 vehemence of an ambitious youth, was subdued, not quenched, 
 by the gentle influences of a holy and chastened old age. 
 The lofty brow, once marked by the storms of life and fur 
 rowed by its cares, had long since been smoothed by the 
 gentle hand of patience, and had become the placid seat of 
 elevated thoughts and purposes all divine. The features, 
 once regular and fair, had gained in benignity what they 
 had lost in symmetry of outline, and, shaded as they were by 
 the long, white beard, reminded one of the mellow beauty of 
 autumn, dimly discerned amid winter's snows. His iron 
 frame, too, how grand and imposing it was ! his step how 
 firm and elastic! his senses how quick and discriminating! 
 5*
 
 54 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 all telling of a sound original constitution, which hardship 
 and exposure had but served to confirm and invigorate. 
 He must have been an awe-inspiring man once, before hu 
 mility cast her mantle over his earth-born pride ; but now, 
 fear gave place to love in the presence of one whose phys 
 ical power, whose mental energy, whose intellectual great 
 ness, were all softened and sanctified by a childlike simplicity 
 of spirit. 
 
 A greater contrast, and yet a more perfect harmony, could 
 scarcely be conceived than were exhibited by this venerable 
 shepherd of souls, and the active, enterprising head of tem 
 poral labors and secular interests at El Fureidis. The one 
 had earned a calm repose as the meed of his life-struggle ; 
 the other enjoyed the cheerful contentedness of a nature to 
 which life had scarcely been a struggle at all. The one had 
 fought his Avay through youth and manhood, to win in his 
 ripe old age the simple faith of a child. The other had not 
 reached middle life without his share of human vicissitudes ; 
 but they left him, as they found him, ahvays a child, a 
 child in light-hearted good-humor, in ignorance of the world, 
 in unquestioning credulity, in all the unsophisticated qual 
 ities of a genial, confiding disposition. 
 
 This Augustine Trefoil, the silk -manufacturer, was a happy 
 man. A less buoyant nature than his would have sunk be 
 neath half the load of misfortunes which had fallen to his 
 lot ; but what would have been ruin to another man was 
 to him but the spur to fresh enterprise and renewed ac 
 tivity. 
 
 Born of American parents, amid the mountainous districts 
 of New England, he had been endowed, both by inher 
 itance and by early training, with a hardy constitution, 
 cheerful temperament, quick perceptions, and especially 
 that indomitable perseverance and energy which are such
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 55 
 
 marked traits in the American character. All these quali 
 ties were early brought into action from the circumstance 
 that, when Augustine was yet a boy, his father (a man of 
 restless spirit) obtained an Eastern consulship, took his son 
 abroad with him, and, dying soon after, left the youth to his 
 own guidance and resources. His mother and two little 
 sisters had been buried years before beneath the New Eng 
 land sod, and the boy possessed no relatives to whom he 
 was in any degree responsible. His habit of life had 
 already rendered him a cosmopolite. Domesticated, how 
 ever, in a French household, and received, soon after his 
 father's death, into a French commercial establishment, 
 circumstances and his perfect use of the Gallic tongue 
 occasioned him to be so identified with France and her 
 interests, that his true descent was well-nigh forgotten, 
 and on reaching manhood he was invariably styled " Mon 
 sieur." 
 
 It was astonishing how rapidly, despite his youth, this 
 Franco-American commenced mingling among men, how 
 quickly he contrived to form projects, plan commercial alli 
 ances, and invest his little patrimony in speculations that 
 promised quick returns. It was less astonishing, all things 
 considered, that he should have been again and again de 
 ceived by those whom he trusted, that his projects should, 
 one after another, have failed, and his capital been squan 
 dered. 
 
 But Augustine was not discouraged. New schemes arose 
 upon the ruins of the old ; partial success at times attended 
 them ; but for the most part they were built upon some im 
 practicable basis, and ended in failure. Thus years were 
 spent in the vain endeavor to realize the wealth which con 
 stantly dawned before the mental vision first of the boy and 
 then of the man, but as constantly eluded his grasp.
 
 56 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Precisely at the point when his fortunes were at their 
 lowest ebb, his honest heart, which through many long years 
 had found no object on which to lavish its wealth of affec 
 tion, became fixed upon lanthe, the beautiful daughter of a 
 Greek merchant, resident at Smyrna. With his usual im 
 providence, he hesitated not to urge his suit, though its 
 object was one of a numerous and unportioned family, and 
 he was ignorant of his own next stepping-stone towards 
 wealth. Here the man of many disappointments was singu 
 larly successful ; and lanthe, young, confiding, and warmly 
 reciprocating his attachment, hesitated not to unite her des 
 tiny with his, and share his uncertain lot. 
 
 Augustine had other warrant beside that of Scripture 
 for believing that in Havilah " there is gold ; and the gold 
 of that land is good." Thither he went with his young 
 bride, once more to waste his energies in vain toil, and 
 see his airy visions gradually melt into nothingness. The 
 only treasure which the husband and wife brought back 
 from the Indian soil whence they had hoped to reap a 
 pleantiful harvest was an infant daughter, a pure gem 
 of beauty and promise. In their eyes, she was more 
 precious than all the silver and gold hid within the mines 
 of Havilah : they gratefully gave her the name of the land, 
 and, rejoicing in this gift of Heaven, lamented not the 
 lesser gifts which earth had denied them. 
 
 It was the failure in lanthe's health which directed their 
 steps towards Lebanon, that favored region, the unutterable 
 perfection of whose climate gives promise of restoration 
 to the invalid who would perish beneath less gentle and 
 life-giving breezes. Here, attentively watching the peas 
 ants at their toil, the ingenious and enterprising mind of 
 Augustine saw how easily, by the aid of modern invention 
 and a limited capital, machinery might be substituted for
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 57 
 
 hand-labor, and the originator of the scheme be placed 
 at once on the road to fortune. 
 
 lanthe trembled when she saw him, in pursuance of this 
 idea, unhesitatingly seeking loans at the hands of severe 
 and uncompromising usurers, laying himself under obli 
 gations which could only be cancelled by an almost incred 
 ible success. This time, however, his sagacity was not 
 at fault, and the boldness of his undertaking was justified 
 by the event. 
 
 It might have been that years had matured his judgment 
 and given stability to his plans. It might have been that the 
 wife, wise in counsel and taught by experience, proved an 
 efficient check upon his impetuosity, and that her mild per 
 suasions were more effective in overcoming the opposition 
 he met with from the ignorant peasantry, than all the influ 
 ence exercised by his own energetic proceedings. 
 
 Whichever may have been the prominent cause, or 
 whether it wepe through the combination of them all, a 
 hitherto unknown success attended him at every step; his 
 prosperity seemed secure. El Fureidis, now become his per 
 manent home, was rescued from poverty and degradation, 
 and its grateful inhabitants acknowledged the silk-manufac 
 turer as their benefactor, protector, and friend. 
 
 It was less than a year subsequent to Trefoil's settlement 
 in El Fureidis that the missionary zeal of M. Lapierre led 
 him to the same locality, and the labors of both had been 
 not a little lightened from the circumstance that henceforth 
 civilization and religion had gone hand in hand. The old 
 man and lanthe were already one in Christ Jesus, and if M. 
 Trefoil himself was less bound by this tie of sympathy, he 
 was a no less willing co-operator with them in every scheme 
 of benevolence. His influence (and it was not small) had 
 more than once warded off the shafts which superstition had
 
 58 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 aimed at the venerable preacher of a liberal faith. The 
 layman had manfully stood by the pastor when opposition 
 had developed into persecution and threats had ripened into 
 danger, and the friendship which had arisen in times of 
 trial to both had long since been cemented and confirmed 
 by mutual services and association in a common cause. 
 
 Thus isolated from the world at large, breasting together 
 the tide of ignorance and prejudice, laboring, the one for 
 earthly rewards, the other for heavenly harvests, but alike 
 promoting human welfare, it was not strange that the indi 
 vidual interests of these two men were merged in the com 
 mon good ; that their differences of character and pursuit 
 were harmoniously blended ; that the influence, the wealth, 
 the domestic hearth of the one were at the other's disposal ; 
 and that the stranger from a distant land was hailed as the 
 welcome guest of both. 
 
 A single interview with his new friends sufficed to make 
 Meredith acquainted with much of what has been narrated 
 above ; for M. Trefoil made no concealment of anything which 
 concerned himself, and M. Lapierre touched upon such a va 
 riety of topics as indicated the nature and extent of his own 
 experiences. The conversation, which had at first been 
 general, became at length limited to the missionary and the 
 Englishman. They talked long together, with mutual and 
 unflagging interest. Then there was a pause. Meredith 
 glanced in the direction of his host, and saw that the pipe 
 had dropped from his mouth, he had sunk back upon the 
 cushions of his divan, and was lost in a deep slumber. 
 
 " Follow his example, my son," said M. Lapierre, rising 
 with a smile, and taking up his stout staff. " You will be 
 refreshed by an hour or two of sleep. No one will come 
 hither to disturb you, for I have a distant excursion to make 
 across the mountains, and all the household, including every
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 59 
 
 servant in yonder western wing, are now, I doubt not, en 
 joying their siesta." 
 
 The old man walked away as he finished speaking, and, 
 in obedience to his counsel, Meredith laid himself down and 
 slept, dreamed that he was in Paradise, and awoke to be 
 lieve that his dream was true. He was alone in the open 
 saloon, and it was nearly sunset. Long rays of golden light 
 swept across the garden. The fountain was sparkling like 
 topaz in its beams ; but the shadows of nightfall obscured 
 the leafy recesses, and the moisture of the evening dew 
 filled the air with that intoxicating sweetness never known 
 but in Lebanon. All was quiet; no one seemed to be stirring 
 within or around the house ; and, almost awed by the utter 
 stillness, Meredith passed through the enclosure and entered 
 the mulberry grove. He was met by M. Trefoil, returning 
 from an afternoon visit to his factory. 
 
 " You have had a rest proportioned to your morning 
 tramp upon the mountains," said the good-humored host, 
 with the cheery laugh which gave a winning expression to 
 his face. " Come with me now to the house-top, and tell 
 me if anything can be more glorious than a sunset on Leb 
 anon." 
 
 " You may well defy the world to produce a grander or 
 lovelier scene," said Meredith, as, standing beside M. Tre 
 foil on the flat roof, he looked forth upon the prospect. The 
 sun had just reached the tops of the higher range of moun 
 tains, which enclosed the glen like an amphitheatre, and 
 their bare limestone crests shone like silver crowns, while 
 their misty slopes reflected a brilliant orange, and the deeper 
 valleys and ravines glowed in a rich robing of purple light. 
 Here and there in the distance gleamed the white villages 
 which dotted the mountain-sides. Far below, in the fruitful 
 plain of the Bekaa, the golden wheat laughed in the west-
 
 60 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ern sunlight, and, overtopping El Fureidis itself, the glazed 
 windows and glittering spire of the little church gleamed 
 like " a beacon set upon a hill." Creeping down the steep 
 declivities leading to the valley might be seen long lines of 
 sheep and goats, which the herdsmen were conducting to 
 their folds ; peasant-women were singing as they returned 
 homeward with milk-pails on their heads, and the weary 
 husbandmen were toiling up from the plain, each driving 
 before him his panting oxen, which, like their masters, were 
 rejoicing in the day's work done. It was a beautiful scene 
 of rural content and peace, and Meredith and his host stood 
 watching it in silent satisfaction, till the darkness which so 
 quickly succeeds an Eastern twilight came on and wrapped 
 the whole land in shadow. 
 
 They then seated themselves near the parapet on which 
 they had been leaning, and the Englishman listened while 
 M. Trefoil descanted on the charms of this Syrian land, 
 and the varied interest which it offered to the traveller. 
 
 Meredith interrupted him once, with an involuntary 
 " Hark ! " at the same time stretching his head forward to 
 listen, as the sound of a little stringed instrument reached 
 his ear, accompanied by a sweet, musical voice ; but the 
 sole response which his emphatic exclamation and move 
 ment called forth was a momentary pause, and the careless 
 observation, " It is only the child singing an evening hymn 
 to her mother ; " after which M. Trefoil continued his dis 
 course, quite unobservant of his auditor's abstraction, which 
 continued as long as the music lasted. 
 
 At nine o'clock they were joined by M. Lapierre, who 
 had returned from his pastoral duties ; and soon after Havi- 
 lah brought coffee and biscuits, which she served gracefully 
 with her own hands, and then withdrew. A little later, she 
 once more glided up the staircase, seated herself on a low
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 61 
 
 stool at her father's feet, and, stroking the head of her little 
 gazelle, listened attentively to the animated conversation, in 
 which she took no part, her white robes (for her evening 
 dress was always white) glittering in the light of the now 
 risen moon, and her large eyes beaming with vivid intelli 
 gence as she turned them upon each speaker in succession. 
 She stayed but a short time, however, then disappeared, 
 speechless and noiseless as she had come, and was seen no 
 more that night. 
 
 The little village had been wrapped in slumber several 
 hours when M. Lapierre made a movement to depart. 
 Meredith rose to accompany him, and then learned, with no 
 little surprise, that M. Trefoil had constituted himself his 
 new friend's host, not for a day only, but for the remainder 
 of the young man's stay in El Fureidis ; that, without even 
 the ceremony of asking his consent, a room had been al 
 lotted him at the villa, his portmanteau and saddle-bags had 
 been transferred thither ; and that any hesitation to accept 
 this hospitality would not only cause a serious disappoint 
 ment, but be viewed, under the circumstances, as a positive 
 breach of etiquette. 
 
 M. Lapierre was therefore suffered to depart alone, and, 
 although it would have been inconsistent with Meredith's 
 character not to experience a slight shade of annoyance at 
 this impromptu change of quarters, he was consoled by the 
 reflection that M. Lapierre would now be reinstalled in the 
 humble comforts of which, for some weeks past, his guest 
 had involuntarily deprived him.
 
 62 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BORN beneath an Indian sun, but with the fresh life of 
 the West glowing in her veins, Havilah was at once the im 
 aginative, impassioned child of the Orient, and the active, 
 intelligent representative of a race as diverse to the Asiatic 
 type as is the point of the sun's rising to that of his going 
 down. Abroad upon the mountains, in the cottages of the 
 peasantry, or in the mission school, she emulated her father 
 in rapidity of thought and nervous energy of will ; at home, 
 the meditative repose, the gentle grace, the intense sensibil 
 ity, of the maternal character were reflected in that of the 
 child. In her outer life she was light and free as the bird 
 of the air, but within, the hidden current of her young be 
 ing possessed a strange, mysterious depth, which none might 
 fathom. In this young nature, existence might be said to 
 be twofold, the life of reality and the life of thought, the 
 actual and the ideal. 
 
 The early surroundings of Havilah's singular lot had not 
 a little favored this double development of character. In 
 the domain of the village, where M. Trefoil was carrying 
 forward the work of improvement and reform, unwearied 
 activity and systematic labor were the watchwords of suc 
 cess. In the sphere of domestic influence, however, there 
 prevailed that undisturbed quiet, that serene atmosphere, 
 that luxurious sense of repose, which is peculiar to Eastern 
 households, and which lanthe especially loved.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 63 
 
 Thus from childhood Havilah's experience had alternated 
 between scenes of energetic usefulness and hours of un 
 broken privacy, the one giving play to all her active pow 
 ers, the other favoring in a like degree reflection, study, and 
 self-communing. Those then who had seen her in gay at 
 tire, bounding lightly across the mountain passes, chatting 
 with the village matrons, or playing with the childish throng 
 that attended on her steps, would scarcely have recognized 
 her fairy form in the pensive figure which half sat, half 
 reclined amid a heap of cushions within a latticed window 
 of her father's villa, and, with her head resting on her hand, 
 gazed abstractedly upon the prospect, or lost herself in the 
 attentive perusal of one among the many books which lay 
 scattered around her. 
 
 Not such books are they as those with which a Western 
 belle is wont to beguile an idle hour. Near at hand, and 
 still open, as if reference had lately been made to its pages, 
 is the most precious of all, a large Greek Bible, bound in 
 heavy vellum, with massive gold clasps and richly illumi 
 nated margins ; on her lap is a time-worn volume containing 
 the life of one of the early Christian fathers ; or, perhaps, 
 a curious old Syriac manuscript holds the prominent place ; 
 or, perchance, it is a French scientific work, by aid of 
 which she is learning to classify a newly discovered min 
 eral or flower ; or, more probably still, her eager gaze is fixed 
 and her whole mind bent on one of those rare treasures 
 which she dearly loves to ponder, filled with wild Eastern 
 legend and strange Arabic lore, its figurative language and 
 rapt illustration chiming with and warming her own vivid 
 fancies. Whatever may be the theme, she draws from it 
 only elevated thought and pure instruction, if one may judge 
 from the earnest glow of feeling which overspreads her face 
 as she reads, and the aspiration with which she at length
 
 64 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 lifts her eyes from the book, and communes awhile with her 
 own thoughts. 
 
 From such a reverie she is roused by the sudden starting 
 up of the gazelle at her feet, and by the approach of the 
 little handmaiden Geita, who, with a word, a smile, and a 
 motion of her hand towards the outer alcove, whence she 
 has come, at once dispels the train of meditation in which 
 her young mistress is indulging. 
 
 It could have been no unwelcome summons which Geita 
 brought, for Ayib, by some quick instinct comprehending its 
 import, speeds away in the direction indicated, in advance 
 of his mistress, and a pleasurable smile succeeds the pensive 
 expression of Havilah's face as she rises hastily from her 
 cushions, stoops to pick up the heavy golden arrow which 
 has dropped from her hair, binds up with it the long braided 
 bands which hang around her shoulders, then slips her feet 
 into the little silken slippers which stand side by side on the 
 Turcoman carpet, and, having thus adjusted her toilet without 
 the aid of a mirror, hastens to the principal saloon or alcove, 
 which constitutes the reception-room of the family. 
 
 In accordance with invariable custom in the East, this 
 saloon, the same in which Meredith had dined a few days 
 before, was enclosed on three sides only, the fourth pre 
 senting an open archway, leading directly to the garden. 
 The apartment consisted of an upper and lower platform, 
 the former richly carpeted and encircled by a divan, the 
 latter paved with marble, and embellished with a rippling 
 fountain. A couple of steps served to connect these two 
 divisions of the alcove, and at the moment when Havilah 
 entered, the guest, who had come to crave an audience, 
 stood on the lower stair, pride forbidding him to take his 
 place on the platform reserved for visitors of inferior rank, 
 modesty excluding him from a position parallel with the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 65 
 
 daughter of the house. It was Abdoul, a prince in his na 
 tive desert, but the humble vassal of her to whom he paid 
 an almost worshipping homage. 
 
 Most kind and encouraging was her reception of the 
 sheik's son, whom Ayib was already acknowledging by 
 stretching out his graceful head for the youth's caress. 
 " You have come at last, Abdoul," she exclaimed, holding 
 out her hand, over which the Arab boy bowed low, with 
 out presuming to touch it. "I feared you had forgotten 
 Havilah." 
 
 " When the night-wanderer on the mountains forgets to 
 watch for the morning star, then will Abdoul forget Havi 
 lah," was the grave reply, spoken in a tone of mingled 
 sweetness and reproach. 
 
 " Then why have you stayed away so long ? Ayib and I 
 have sought in vain for the eagle's nest on the mountain, and 
 the white asphodels and blue-eyed campanulas have faded 
 long ago in my mother's china vase. Can Abdoul have 
 learned to feel himself a stranger in the Mother lanthe's 
 home ? Can he doubt that Havilah is his friend ? " 
 
 " The child of the free air has longed to pursue the 
 mountain birds, and gather the flowers that grow on the 
 topmost crags. He has thought in the lonely night of the 
 orange-trees beside the fountain, and his soul has pined for 
 the touch of the healing hand. Does Havilah remember 
 the day when the vile Turk struck the Arab boy to the 
 ground, and they brought him bleeding hither ? " The fire 
 of mingled emotions flashed in the Ishmaelite's eye as he 
 thus spoke, and, flinging black the sleeve of his embroidered 
 jacket, he displayed a scar which stretched from his elbow 
 to his wrist, gazed at it a moment, then, changing from a 
 tone of wild excitement to a gentle and subdued utterance, 
 said eloquently, at the same time gazing with grateful 
 6* E
 
 66 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 tenderness in Havilah's face : " Yes, the wound was deep, 
 and its healing slow ; but the arm should be gladly bared 
 once more to the sabre, if the boy might call back the long, 
 sunny days when lanthe poured balm on his wound, and his 
 heart was comforted, and the rose of Lebanon smiled on 
 him, and he felt no pain." 
 
 " Those were happy days," said Havilah, " when lanthe's 
 little daughter found a pleasant playmate in Sheik Zana- 
 deen's son. But he has become a man since then ; he rides 
 proudly upon his white mare, and hunts with his good 
 falcon. lanthe's garden is not broad enough for him now 
 that he has spread his wings, else why comes he not 
 hither?" 
 
 " Sheik Zanadeen's son has not been his own master," 
 replied the youth; "he has been in the service of the 
 Frank ; and whom Abdoul serves, he serves. He comes 
 now to say farewell. To-morrow he departs for the 
 desert. Will Havilah think, when he is far away, of him 
 who is unworthy to kiss the soil on which she treads ? " 
 
 " Havilah will not forget to pray to her God for the 
 playmate of her childhood, when he is guiding the English 
 man through distant lands." 
 
 " The Englishman remains in El Fureidis," said the 
 Arab, slowly, and with emphasis, at the same time fixing on 
 Havilah an eye whose keenness scanned every line of her 
 countenance. 
 
 Apparently it satisfied him, for the scrutinizing frown 
 passed away from his face when she replied, with apparent 
 indifference, to his announcement : " Why, then, hastens 
 Abdoul hence?" 
 
 " To pursue the desert winds, to chase the fleet gazelle, 
 to spur the Khadhere across the soft sands which are as 
 cushions to her feet. Abdoul has been absent too long.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 67 
 
 The old man sits in the door of his tent and longs for 
 his son's embrace. In the morning he says, 'Inshallah! 
 but he will come to-day ; ' in the evening he sighs, ( Allah ! 
 alas ! why comes he not ? ' The arrow of the desert hears 
 the sigh which comes to him on the night breeze, and he 
 must speed him from the bow." 
 
 " May the blessing of Heaven go with you ! " said Ha- 
 vilah with feeling. "May you find Sheik Zanadeen and 
 your little brothers well ; may your coming bring joy to the 
 old chief's heart ; and when his eyes are satisfied with the 
 presence of his son, may some kind errand send you once 
 more to El Fureidis." 
 
 The youth bowed low, touching his head, lips, and heart, 
 in the same expressive and dignified manner that had 
 marked his demeanor more than once during the interview, 
 then answered : " When the husbandman puts his sickle to 
 the yellow corn, and the olive-trees drop their ripe fruits 
 into the laps of the maidens, Abdoul will return to guide 
 the Frank into southern lands ; meanwhile, Allah protect 
 this house, and send his gentlest breezes to blow on the 
 Mother lanthe." 
 
 " My mother," said Havilah, " would gladly give a part 
 ing blessing to him whom she used fondly to call the son 
 of her adoption ; but she has been weary, and now she 
 sleeps." 
 
 " Say to her," said the boy, with enthusiasm, " that Abdoul 
 loves her image, and bears it with him in his heart, that 
 he hears her voice when the turtle-dove coos to its mate, 
 and feels the soft pressure of her hand on his head when 
 the south-wind blows from Araby. For Havilah, Abdoul 
 has brought this casket of sweets, and bids it whisper 
 what he fain would say." As he spoke, he produced from 
 amid the voluminous folds of his silken abayah an exquisite
 
 68 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 little casket of sandal-wood inlaid with pearl, a master 
 piece of Damascene taste and skill, and, gracefully bend 
 ing on one knee, laid it on the step at her feet. 
 
 "With mingled hesitation and pleasure, Havilah stooped, 
 lifted the fragrant box, and, herself assuming a careless, 
 half-kneeling attitude beside the boy, exclaimed on the 
 beauty of its workmanship ; then, archly raising its lid, 
 could not resist an almost childish ejaculation of delighted 
 surprise, as she found the contents of the box to consist of 
 layer upon layer of the choicest and most tempting of 
 Eastern sweetmeats. 
 
 " All this for Havilah ? " she cried. " And has Abdoul 
 brought it through the desert and over the mountains to 
 please the taste which he remembers so well?" 
 
 " Were the distance ten times as great, and the casket as 
 heavy as its weight in gold, the way would have seemed 
 short and the burden light to Abdoul," replied the boy, with 
 a gravity unmoved by the playful demeanor of Havilah, 
 who was meanwhile inhaling the mingled perfumes of the 
 casket and its rich fruits, and eagerly offering them to the 
 inspection of Ayib, then laughingly snatching them away, 
 as the little animal, who, like his mistress, was fond of 
 sweets, ventured to intrude his nose too far. 
 
 Equally unmoved was the donor of the gift at the sincere 
 and profuse thanks with which Havilah now acknowledged 
 her acceptance of it, rising from her lowly posture, and 
 expressing herself with half-girlish, half-womanly grace, as 
 if she dimly realized that the Abdoul of her childhood was 
 scarcely one with the proud son of the desert chief. 
 
 " Thank me not," said Abdoul ; " I merit no thanks. I 
 would but make the casket the mouthpiece of that which 
 the soul would say. What perfume is to the smell, and 
 sugar to the lip, may life be always to Havilah. May every
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 69 
 
 evening shed fragrance on the head, and every morning 
 bring sweetness to the heart, of the Lebanon Rose. Fare 
 well." 
 
 She held out her hand with the same cordiality as on 
 first greeting him. He forbore to press it to his lips, 
 though he bowed so low as to sweep it with his soft, curling 
 moustache ; then, with a silent, expressive glance upward 
 into her face, he turned, and, wrapping his flowing mantle 
 around him, strode quickly away. 
 
 Havilah stood for a moment, leaning on the slender 
 railing which ran round the fountain, and watched his re 
 treating figure as he glided through the shrubbery of the 
 garden ; then looking down at Ayib, the youth's gift less 
 than a year before, she caressed the little creature, saying 
 fondly, " Do not look so mournful, Ayib. Abdoul is gone, 
 but he will come back at harvest-time." In a moment 
 more she had resumed her place among the cushions, and, 
 with the languor of contentment and repose, had become 
 lost in her book, the casket at her side, and the gazelle, 
 as usual, at her feet. 
 
 And while she read, and mused on her reading, her 
 temples fanned by the cool breeze that made its way through 
 the lattice, and her innocent mind at rest, Abdoul mounted 
 his steed, and, defying a scorching sun, went out with 
 throbbing heart into the desert.
 
 70 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NOTHING could be more strictly in accordance with the 
 peculiar bent of Meredith's taste and genius than the sit 
 uation in which he found himself in El Fureidis. 
 
 We have seen that, in the outset of his Oriental travels, 
 he shrunk from the ordinary routes and stale experiences 
 of other men. Indeed, it would have been impossible for 
 him, if he would, to pursue the old time-worn routine. It 
 had never been his lot to follow in life's beaten track. It 
 was not in his nature. The sports of his very childhood 
 had either been solitary or diverse from those of his play 
 mates. As a boy, he had scorned the ordinary boyish com 
 petitions of strength and skill, to astonish his rivals at an 
 unlooked-for crisis by some strange feat which none other 
 dared attempt. As a student, he had shown no eagerness 
 for the prizes which excited his schoolfellows to toil, relin 
 quishing to his inferiors the outward plaudits and manifest 
 rewards, while he forced for himself a new mine of knowl 
 edge, or strained his ardent mind in some erratic pursuit, 
 of which none might see the fruits. And when life held 
 out its dazzling prospects to the man, he suffered others to 
 precede him in the race, whose goal he had no wish to 
 win, and either turned to muse amid the by-paths, or, on 
 the wings of a poetic imagination, soared above the crowd, 
 and smiled at the selfish greed with which they strove for 
 the thing he called a bubble.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 71 
 
 And so, because he disappointed men's hopes, and had no 
 sympathy with their pursuits, they dubbed him odd, and 
 rightly so. 
 
 He had a mind too vigorous and refined, a heart too fresh 
 and sensitive, to permit him to mould his life on the stereo 
 typed plan ; but he had not yet learned the noblest use for 
 which that life was given. How, then, could he be other 
 wise than strange, erratic, and unlike his fellows, unlike 
 them in that he failed to share their motives, aspirations, 
 and schemes, unlike them, inasmuch as, having no fixed 
 purposes and aims of his own, he drifted idly on the sea of 
 time, and brought no fruit to perfection ? 
 
 What he needed was a life motive, and that the highest. 
 But of this need he had not yet become conscious. It was 
 enough for him, if, escaping the satiety and the paltriness of 
 conventional usages, he could find some sufficient spur to his 
 enthusiasm, some temporary impulse to mental and physical 
 activity. And this he found in El Fureidis. 
 
 Meredith was too experienced a traveller, too genuine 
 and earnest a man, to be satisfied with superficial knowledge, 
 whether of places or people. Still, the restlessness and im 
 petuosity of his character, combined with a certain slowness 
 of adaptation to new circumstances and associates, would 
 probably have hurried him through the Holy Land, and left 
 him with prejudiced, if not erroneous, views of the country, 
 but for the seeming accident which served to link him to 
 the soil, to furnish a central point round which his future 
 plans might radiate, and to render this little Lebanon val 
 ley the nucleus of his Eastern wanderings. 
 
 Had the delay in his journey proceeded from other than 
 natural causes, he would have chafed bitterly at such irrep 
 arable loss of time ; had the hospitality he was now enjoy 
 ing been importunately thrust upon him, he would have
 
 72 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 proudly repelled it, as an encroachment upon his freedom of 
 thought and action. As it was, his illness and consequent 
 debility had served to habituate him to the interruption of 
 his plans, while the cordial and unaffected kindness of which 
 he had become the subject effectually disarmed his pride, 
 excited the warmest emotions of gratitude, and developed 
 those genial and social qualities of his nature which had sel 
 dom before been fully called into exercise. 
 
 Immediately upon the re-establishment of his health, it is 
 true, the force of former habit threatened to gain the ascen 
 dency over his newly acquired ingenuousness of heart and 
 manner. Thus it was with something of the precision of 
 studied politeness, something of the reserve of aristocratic 
 breeding, that he took an early opportunity to thank M. 
 Trefoil in the warmest terms for his unmerited kindness and 
 hospitality, at the same time expressing the intention to de 
 part at once on his travels. 
 
 The sensitive pride which shrank from incurring obliga 
 tion was not, however, proof against the simple mingling 
 of disappointment and generosity with which this announce 
 ment was received by the benevolent manufacturer. Gen 
 uine surprise and regret were depicted on every line of his 
 honest countenance. He even uttered a few interjectional 
 phrases, expressive of heart-felt sorrow at the thought of this 
 unexpected parting, and hinted at future schemes of per 
 sonal pleasure and gratification which it would inevitably 
 frustrate ; but with simple disinterestedness he forbore urg 
 ing them upon his guest, deprecated with childlike simplicity 
 the selfishness of seeking to detain him longer in a place 
 which offered so few attractions to the man of pleasure as 
 El Fureidis, and ended by begging to know if he could be 
 of any use in furnishing horses, engaging guides, or other 
 wise facilitating the Englishman's journey.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 73 
 
 Meredith was staggered in his resolution. He had steeled 
 himself against hospitable solicitations and entreaties, had 
 armed himself with arguments in favor of what he deemed 
 a well-concerted plan of travel ; but he was quite unpre 
 pared for the evident pain his announcement had caused, as 
 well as for the unsophisticated friendliness and cordiality 
 with which his kind host had kept his own hopes and wishes 
 in the background, while he lent himself to the accomplish 
 ment of his guest's schemes. 
 
 The young man was conscious that decision of purpose 
 had imparted to his manner an air of chilling reserve ; he 
 feared that his abrupt departure might savor of ingratitude, 
 and almost repented the resolution which had been dictated 
 by independence of spirit and a characteristic fear of intru 
 sion, rather than by his own secret preferences. 
 
 It was not without inward satisfaction, therefore, that he 
 listened to the paternal advice of M. Lapierre, who, being 
 appealed to on the subject, gravely put a veto upon Mere 
 dith's projected route, pronounced the season unsuitable for 
 extending his travels into Southern Judaea, and earnestly 
 recommended, both in consideration of his health and his 
 advantage as a traveller, that he should devote the remain 
 der of the summer to excursions in the interesting and salu 
 brious regions of the Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon. 
 
 Thus encouraged, M. Trefoil hesitated not warmly to 
 second the proposition ; and Meredith, whose mood of mind 
 had been sensibly modified during the conversation, was 
 without difficulty persuaded to make El Fureidis his head 
 quarters for the present, to dismiss Abdoul, who was impa 
 tient to join his desert tribe, and to postpone the journey to 
 Jerusalem until after harvest, at which time M. Trefoil con 
 fessed that he had proposed to offer himself as his friend's 
 travelling companion to the Holy City. 
 4
 
 74 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Meredith still thought proper to protest against the excess 
 of hospitality which now led M. Trefoil to claim him as his 
 guest for an indefinite period. The young man even went 
 so far as to propose an independent residence, and to nego 
 tiate with the village sheik, whose dignity was merely nom 
 inal, and who for a moderate compensation was ready to 
 evacuate his premises in the Englishman's behalf. But be 
 fore this purpose could be put in execution, the destined 
 occupant discovered that M. Trefoil, who had reluctantly 
 conceded this point, was resolved none the less to constitute 
 himself his friend's host; that arrangements were going 
 forward for transporting from the villa to the sheik's house 
 all the articles of furniture and domestic luxury that would be 
 required ; that well-trained servants were even being drafted 
 from the manufacturer's dwelling to be placed at Meredith's 
 disposal ; and, in a word, the latter had the mortification of 
 perceiving that he had thoughtlessly occasioned a degree of 
 trouble and inconvenience which he had never foreseen; and 
 had suffered the villa to be ransacked and its quiet disturbed 
 in order to satisfy his pride and furnish him with a sepa 
 rate establishment. 
 
 Thus his final attempt to escape obligation was rendered 
 abortive, and resulted, as might be conjectured, in an expla 
 nation, a remonstrance, and the utter demolition of all those 
 barriers which English exclusiveness had opposed to Syrian 
 hospitality. In the hearty shaking of hands and the perfect 
 understanding which ensued, a seal was at once set to Mere 
 dith's fastidious scruples : he suffered himself to be consid 
 ered a legitimate member of M. Trefoil's household, and, 
 in the perfect liberty he there enjoyed, the utter freedom 
 from conventional restraints, he soon became habituated to 
 his novel and agreeable mode of life, and, shaking off the 
 reserve which had elsewhere existed as a veil between him
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 75 
 
 and his fellow-men, suffered his character to appear in its 
 true light 
 
 Nothing could have appealed more strongly to every finer 
 quality of Meredith's nature than the unquestioning and 
 guileless trust which his new friends reposed in him. He 
 had entered this mountain valley as a stranger, and been 
 welcomed as a brother and a friend. He had brought with 
 him no other credentials than those which were expressed in 
 his face and bearing, yet he had been freely admitted to the 
 privacy of a domestic circle. It was well for his simple- 
 hearted and unworldly host, that nobleness and generosity 
 were prominent traits in the character of the man with 
 whom he had to deal, for, as will soon be seen, M. Trefoil's 
 confidence in Meredith was unlimited. 
 
 " This southwesterly breeze is most refreshing," said the 
 silk-manufacturer, as he rose from his breakfast-table one 
 fine morning during the first week that the Englishman had 
 been his guest. " See," continued he, as he walked to the 
 window and threw wide the lattice ; " the air is as pure as 
 crystal. How clearly the mountain-tops are all defined 
 against the blue sky, and how boldly the old convent stands 
 out from its wall of rock ! You spoke of a wish to visit 
 the monks," he added, addressing Meredith, who had joined 
 him at the lattice. " Why not carry out your plan to-day ? 
 there can never be a better opportunity." 
 
 " I will do so most gladly, if you can furnish me with a 
 guide," was Meredith's reply ; " there is no spot in the 
 neighborhood which excites my curiosity so strongly ; but 
 my last attempt to reach it was a failure." 
 
 "I wish I could accompany you," said the host; "but 
 this is the busiest season of the year among my work-people. 
 The cocoons, as you observed yesterday, will soon be form 
 ing ; it is a time of labor and anxiety to the villagers, and
 
 76 EL FtREIDIS. 
 
 my overseer and I must be everywhere at once. However, 
 Havilah will be glad of an excuse to visit one of her favorite 
 haunts ; she will go with you, I have no doubt, and be a far 
 better guide than her father. The way is rough ; but she is 
 a mountain-climber by profession, and, I promise you, you 
 can never be introduced to the Superior more favorably 
 than under her auspices. Eh, Havilah ? " continued he, 
 laying his hand on the head of his daughter, who was feed 
 ing with bread numbers of tiny blue swallows that boldly 
 ate from her outstretched palm. " Is there no fresh oint 
 ment prepared for the stiff joints of old Friar Ambrose, 
 no black-letter manuscript to be restored to Father Anas- 
 tase ? " 
 
 Havilah answered by putting to flight the little feathered 
 flock, which dispersed for an instant, then confidently re 
 assembled around the handful of crumbs which she had 
 scattered for them on the table-cloth ; and hastening from 
 the apartment, she soon returned, bringing with her a quaint, 
 coverless volume, which she laughingly held up before her 
 father. 
 
 " I thought so ! I thought so! " exclaimed he, as he took 
 it, turned over its leaves, and shook his head despairingly 
 at sight of its unintelligible Arabic characters. " And is 
 this the only one ? " 
 
 " The only one," responded Havilah, with mock sadness ; 
 "there was another for which I teased poor Father Anastase 
 well, but he persisted in holding up a single finger, and say 
 ing, ' One at a time, my daughter, one at a time ! ' " 
 
 "Ah, the old rogue!" cried M. Trefoil. "He did not 
 mean you should be long in coming again ; " and care 
 lessly flinging the volume, down upon the divan, he took 
 up his red tarboosh, fitted it to his temples, and walked 
 away, saying, "The convent, then, is the order of the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 77 
 
 day. Good morning, Mr. Meredith ; I shall see you again 
 at dinner." 
 
 " Take Geita with you, my child," said lanthe, as Havi- 
 lah, in simple deference to her father's wishes, was about 
 to leave the room and prepare for her excursion. "Let 
 Bachmet go too, and carry the date brandy which has 
 been ready for a week or more. Do not forget the goat's- 
 milk cheese for Father Ambrose, and as you pass through 
 the village, you can leave the herbs for poor Tyiby's sick 
 boy." 
 
 Havilah listened dutifully to her mother's instructions, 
 then sped away to fulfil them. A few moments only were 
 required for completing the simple arrangements, which 
 were matters of every-day recurrence at the villa, and the 
 morning was yet in its freshness when the little party set 
 out on their pedestrian expedition. They were a pic 
 turesque group of excursionists, the tall, athletic Eng 
 lishman, in simple shooting-dress of rough gray tweed, his 
 manly Saxon features exposed to full view beneath his 
 visorless Glengarry cap, Havilah, attired in the same con 
 venient costume in which Meredith had first encountered 
 her on the mountains, and the rich glow which the fresh 
 morning breeze imparted to her cheeks well entitling her to 
 the appellation of the " Lebanon Rose," the little Geita 
 tripping closely beside her mistress, her full trousers and 
 flowing robe of gayly figured print proclaiming her of 
 Moslem origin, and Bachmet, clad in the coarse blue 
 stuff of the country, unceremoniously trudging some dis 
 tance in advance of the other members of the party, sway 
 ing his heavy basket to and fro on his head, and gayly 
 singing as he went. 
 
 They would have struck at once into the mountain paths ; 
 but Havilah's commissions among the peasantry must first
 
 78 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 be executed, and Bachmet therefore led the way through 
 the village. Here their interruptions and delays were 
 numerous. The master's daughter must pause for a kind 
 word and a blessing from the old miller, whose olive-mill 
 was at rest at the season when the silkworm was most busy, 
 and who, as he sat idly smoking his pipe, literally beneath 
 his own vine and fig-tree, was eager to detain the youthful 
 pride of the village, that he might at the same time bestow 
 a long and curious gaze upon her English companion. 
 
 She must not pass the mission school without lingering a 
 moment to distribute among the elder pupils the Arabic 
 Bibles which had recently been procured for them in Bey- 
 rout ; the younger members of the throng meanwhile crowd 
 ing round the Englishman, not because his appearance was 
 still unfamiliar to their inquisitive eyes, but because they 
 had not forgotten the handful of paras which he had scat 
 tered among them a few days previously. 
 
 She must not refuse the pressing entreaties of Tyiby (the 
 good) that she would enter her low-roofed cottage, and cheer 
 with a smile the little fever-parched boy, Meredith being 
 compelled to await his companion without, since Tyiby, 
 though a convert to pure Christianity, could not quite over 
 come her superstitious dread of the evil eye, and of a 
 stranger's noxious influence upon her countless little ser 
 vants, which, arranged on wicker frames inside her dwell 
 ing, were diligently spinning their silken cocoons. 
 
 Meredith chafed somewhat at these successive claims upon 
 his patience ; but it was with unruffled good-humor that 
 Havilah acceded to them all ; and it was with a smile as 
 fresh as the morning, that, as they turned from Tyiby's cot 
 tage at the extremity of the village, she waved her hand to 
 the handsome matron, saying, " Plenty of cocoons to you, 
 Tyiby, and a short day."
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 79 
 
 " Ah," replied the peasant-woman, following them with a 
 wistful gaze as they turned into the path leading to the 
 foot of the mountain gorge, " labor is the lot of Yoosoof 's 
 helpmeet, and her shadow will be long in coming ; * but 
 sunshine and joy to the Lebanon Rose, and long life to the 
 Frank." 
 
 The distance from the village to the convent, though con 
 siderably less than that which Meredith had accomplished 
 on his unsuccessful circuit, could not be estimated, even by 
 the shortest route, at less than three or four English miles. 
 The first half of the way consisted of a gradual winding de 
 scent to the bed of the mountain stream ; and, beyond this, 
 the opposite cliffs, on which the convent was situated, must 
 be scaled by means of an abrupt, precipitous ascent, which 
 offered a severe test to the unpractised climber. 
 
 For an hour or more the path which our party followed 
 was comparatively smooth and feasible, the trees above their 
 heads forming a continued arbor of shade, and the ground 
 beneath their feet flower-strewn at every step. Scarlet 
 anemones, myrtle, and wild roses bloomed in the richest 
 profusion ; every rock and crag was enwreathed with blos 
 soming vines ; and not only was Meredith's botanical taste 
 gratified to the utmost, but Havilah's superior knowledge 
 was continually appealed to for the recognition of plants to 
 which he could give no name. 
 
 Thus the box which Geita carried for the purpose was 
 speedily filled with rare specimens, the senses were well- 
 nigh satiated with sweet odors, and the progress of the party 
 was less and less impeded by the temptation to pause or 
 turn aside from the path. 
 
 * The Syrian peasants reckon time by their shadows, and the coming 
 of the shadow signifies nightfall.
 
 80 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Had Meredith been forewarned that fate had destined 
 him to the free and intimate companionship of the beautiful 
 young creature, the first sight of whom had inspired him 
 only with admiring awe ; had it been whispered to him that 
 she whom he had respectfully worshipped in the distance 
 would one day be thrown, as it were, upon his protection 
 and society ; in a word, had he had a dim presentiment 
 of his present relations with Havilah, his characteristic 
 reserve would have taken alarm, embarrassment would have 
 absorbed all other emotions, and diffidence and mauvaise 
 honte would have rebelled against such a severe ordeal. 
 
 But destiny foreshadowed furnishes but a distorted image 
 of the destiny which takes men by surprise, and Meredith 
 in unexpected circumstances proved the very reverse of 
 what those who knew him best might reasonably have 
 prophesied. Self-consciousness, even the self-consciousness 
 of a generous nature, could not exist in the atmosphere of 
 one so artless, so fearless, so free as Havilah. One might 
 as well have been abashed by the wild-flowers that reared 
 their graceful heads on every side, or shrunk from the swal 
 lows that flitted boldly overhead, or feared to look in the 
 eye of the little gazelle. Havilah was a being of another 
 stamp from those young women into whose society Meredith 
 had hitherto been thrown, and in her presence he became 
 another man. 
 
 Thus, in reply to her simple and guileless queries, he 
 talked to her freely of his English home, told her what 
 flowers were native to an English soil, what were the pecu 
 liarities of an English climate, and what the most striking 
 points of contrast between her own sunny land and the dis 
 tant isles of Great Britain. Then, led on by the child-like 
 attention and Avomanly intelligence of his eager listener, he 
 described to her his travels in the farther West, in the land
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 81 
 
 which she cherished and loved as her father's birthplace 
 and the home of his boyhood; told her of the boundless 
 prairies, which had been the red man's hunting-ground, and 
 of streams so broad and long that the boasted rivers of 
 Damascus and of Lebanon were as feeble rills hi com 
 parison. 
 
 Nor was the conversation of which this usually reserved 
 man assumed the burden, and with which he effectually 
 beguiled the way, made up alone of his own experience 
 in life or travel. Every trifling incident and object in 
 their walk furnished a suggestion to a mind rich in rare 
 attainments and refined and poetic culture, and Havilah's 
 large eyes glowed with strange interest and surprise, as 
 one by one he unlocked at her bidding and for her benefit 
 those treasures of learning and of taste hitherto studiously 
 shut from the eye of the world, but of which this child of 
 nature had by her own simple intuition found the key. 
 
 The quiet of the mountain solitudes, which had only been 
 now and then interrupted by the clear warbling of a bird, 
 was at length broken by the distinct, monotonous sound of 
 rushing water, and, as the party drew near the border of the 
 stream which they had been gradually approaching, they 
 recognized the musical plash of one of the foaming cascades 
 that were frequent in the wild ravine, where the current in 
 its downward course leaped from crag to crag, as joyously 
 as a child at play. Nothing could be more picturesquely 
 beautiful than this little cataract, whose silvery spray rose 
 high in the air, glimmered an instant in the sunshine, then 
 fell laughing back into the stream, to continue its race, and 
 take its next wild plunge into the valley below. Meredith 
 and Havilah paused involuntarily to enjoy the refreshing 
 sight and sound ; then the former, observing that the torrent 
 at the foot of the waterfall was possessed of considerable 
 4* F
 
 82 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 depth, and that there were no apparent means of crossing it, 
 looked about him for the material from which to construct a 
 temporary bridge. No branch or log offered itself for the 
 purpose, but an instant's glance revealed a huge stone so 
 placed that his unaided strength could easily hurl it into the 
 bed of the current, and he had placed his hand upon it for 
 this purpose, when, looking up, he saw that he was laboring 
 for his own benefit alone. Havilah had already crossed the 
 flood, by means of some little points of rock scarcely dis 
 cernible amid the spray, and on which her foot had been 
 planted so lightly that she now stood dry-shod upon the 
 opposite margin, watching the motions of Meredith, as also 
 those of Geita and Bachmet, who had removed their shoes, 
 and were deliberately fording the stream somewhat lower 
 down. It only remained for Meredith to follow the exam 
 ple of Havilah, which he did unhesitatingly, though not 
 escaping a wet foot and a slight shade of mortification at the 
 advantage she had gained over him. 
 
 Nor was this advantage in any degree lost by his young 
 guide during the rough and tortuous ascent which com 
 menced the moment the stream was crossed. Meredith 
 might scale precipices and surmount rude, flint-strewn stair 
 cases in the rock, with a rapidity and energy which aston 
 ished himself, but he could never be in advance of his fairy- 
 footed companion, nor gain a point where his gallantry could 
 be of any service to her. If he lost sight of her for a mo 
 ment, and looked back, suspecting she had paused to take 
 breath, he would hear her voice above him, and, glancing 
 upward, would behold her standing on some apparently inac 
 cessible crag, smiling at his bewilderment. If he sought to 
 warn her against a sliding stone, or insidious pitfall, she 
 would have safely passed the dangerous crisis before the 
 word could escape his lip ; and, so far from attempting to
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 83 
 
 offer his aid, it soon became the Englishman's sole effort to 
 at least equal her in boldness and agility. 
 
 Thus vying with each other in that mountain exercise 
 which, to the healthy and the young, has always in it some 
 thing inspiring, they soon gained the lofty and desolate emi 
 nence on which the convent stood, having left far behind 
 them the weary Geita, and Bachmet, panting beneath his 
 load.
 
 84 EL FURE1DIS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IF the original founder of this old fortress-like monastery 
 was actuated by the desire of rigid seclusion from the world, 
 or by a love of lonely and sublime contemplation, he could 
 not have chosen a more fit locality. It seemed, indeed, a 
 marvel that the necessities of life could be obtained, and its 
 ordinary routine carried on, amid such desolation of sur 
 rounding nature ; and of late years this result had only been 
 accomplished by the most untiring industry. The institu 
 tion had once been largely endowed, and the monks had 
 enjoyed extensive revenues ; but the political convulsions 
 and rival feuds, which had from time to time shaken and 
 devastated the mountains, had swept away the property and 
 influence of the once powerful brotherhood, which had now 
 dwindled to a few feeble old men, who by diligent labor and 
 patient economy eked out a scanty livelihood. 
 
 But though the ambitious and proselyting spirit of their 
 order had died out with its wealth, the pure and simple vir 
 tues of monastic life had never been so fully developed as 
 in this its day of outward decline. Their labors as hus 
 bandmen, vine-dressers, and gardeners left the good fathers 
 no time for contentions and intrigues ; and a more harmless, 
 peaceable, and hospitable household could scarcely be con 
 ceived than this band of Maronite brethren, who, so lono- as 
 
 7 ' O 
 
 they were undisturbed in the remnant of their heritage, had 
 no disposition to interfere with the rights and privileges of 
 other men.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 85 
 
 Between the inmates of the convent and the family of 
 M. Trefoil there had always existed a friendly and neigh 
 borly understanding, which was evidenced rather by a reci 
 procity of civilities and kind deeds than by any frequency of 
 intercourse. The old Superior had observed with a some 
 what jealous eye the successful labors of M. Lapierre, and 
 had shaken his head disapprovingly as he watched the erec 
 tion, within the constant range of his vision, of a church 
 dedicated to a liberal faith ; but he had forborne any open or 
 secret expostulation, and the bells of the convent tower and 
 the village church had long since learned to chime in unison. 
 
 In the early years of lanthe's residence in El Fureidis, it 
 had been her habit to pay an annual visit to the convent, 
 carrying with her not a few acceptable gifts to the old men, 
 and especially exciting their gratitude by her thoughtfulness 
 for their increasing infirmities, and by the invaluable pre 
 scriptions and remedies in which she was wonderfully skilled. 
 
 But the strongest bond of union between the convent 
 fathers and the inhabitants of the opposite valley was the 
 mountain child, who, as the companion of her mother, had 
 early been admitted to the free range of court-yard, garden, 
 and refectory, and who, now that lanthe's incapacity for 
 fatigue forbade her periodical visits, had become at once 
 the joy of the old monks' hearts, and their chief medium of 
 intercourse with the outer world. Hers was the only youth 
 ful laugh that ever interrupted the grim silence of their 
 ruinous corridors ; she alone loved to ransack the antique 
 library on which they prided themselves, as the chief relic 
 of their former grandeur. The choicest fruits of their or 
 chards, the rarest flowers of their gardens, were reserved for 
 her approbation and praise ; and humble as their offerings 
 might be, the messenger of lanthe's bounty seldom went 
 away empty-handed.
 
 86 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 M. Trefoil had spoken truly when he said that no stranger 
 could be introduced into the convent under more flattering 
 circumstances than as the friend of Havilah. There was 
 welcome in the quick striking of the old porter's crutch upon 
 the pavement, as he came hobbling to unbar the gateway to 
 her familiar tap ; there was cordiality in the eagerness with 
 which he fumbled at the rusty lock ; there was untold hospi 
 tality in the generous manner in which he drew wide the 
 portal, pronounced with trembling lips a blessing on the 
 child, and held out a paralytic hand to her companion. 
 
 " This sunny day has brought us up the mountain, you 
 see, Father Ambrose," said Havilah. 
 
 " It is always a sunny day when you come hither," said 
 the old monk, as he closed and rebarred the door, " always, 
 always," he continued to mutter to himself, as, tottering 
 on his crutch, he preceded his visitors through the narrow 
 court-yard, now and then looking back over his shoulder to 
 feast his eyes upon Havilah, and assure himself that she 
 and the stranger were following close upon his footsteps. 
 
 The outer court-yard which they thus crossed was a high- 
 walled enclosure, a mere vestibule leading to the inner or 
 principal square, round which the convent buildings were 
 situated. The chuckling satisfaction which Father Ambrose 
 had evinced at sight of Havilah was succeeded by an 
 almost ludicrous air of dignity and parade on the part of 
 the imbecile old man, as, holding back the inner gate, he 
 stood aside to let his visitors pass, his dim eye scanning 
 Meredith's face, that he might read there the impressions of 
 awe which he believed it impossible this interior view could 
 fail to awaken. Poor Father Ambrose ! he remembered 
 the days of pride when he had held open this same gateway 
 for the admission of some neighboring dignitary, followed by 
 a long ecclesiastical train, and met at the entrance by the
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 87 
 
 convent superior at the head of an imposing priestly proces 
 sion, while the tower-bell rang out a welcome, and the 
 central fountain sent up its sparkling waters, and busy 
 functionaries hastened to and from the luxurious refec 
 tory. He forgot that these days of grandeur had long since 
 passed ; that one after another the stately procession had 
 been laid in the rock-hewn sepulchre below ; that the tower 
 bell had ceased to sound its welcome to an illustrious 
 throng ; that the fountain was dried up, the orange and fig 
 trees that stood around it withered ; and that nothing was 
 left to indicate past greatness but a platform of defaced, 
 uneven paving, a half-ruined chapel hewn from the rock, a 
 long line of vacant dormitories, and a few old men tottering 
 on the verge of the grave. 
 
 There is a certain melancholy grandeur attendant on 
 utter ruin and decay ; but even this element of tender inter 
 est was wanting to the scene which the old priest disclosed, 
 with such a mockery of pride, to the gaze of Meredith. 
 The wide, open area, so far from reposing in stately deso 
 lation, had been converted to the homeliest domestic uses, 
 and was suggestive rather of the present laborious economy 
 and patient thrift of the fraternity, than of the solemn re 
 ceptions and dignified ceremonies of the past. In one 
 corner, a gray-bearded priest, clad in the coarse blue robe 
 worn by the Syrian peasantry, was diligently shaking a 
 huge skin filled with cream, which he was in the act of 
 converting to butter ; two others were transferring wine of 
 their own manufacture from one receptacle to another, sev 
 eral clumsy casks being mounted for the purpose on the 
 discolored stones of the dry fountain ; a fourth was engaged 
 in the primitive occupation of grinding corn between two 
 flat stones ; while various implements of toil, resting against 
 the walls, indicated the numerous other uses to which the 
 court-yard was applied.
 
 88 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 All labor, however, was suspended on the entrance of 
 Havilah and the Englishman. There was a mingling of 
 curiosity and shyness in the manner with which the simple 
 brethren eyed the latter ; but sincere and unaffected pleas 
 ure shone in each of their faces as the young girl passed 
 from one to another, with here a kind inquiry and there a 
 congratulatory comment on their health or the success of 
 their labors. 
 
 Their Superior, they said, was at work in the flower- 
 garden, and thither Father Ambrose hurried his guests, 
 after affording them a brief opportunity to take a general 
 survey of the establishment, so far as it could be discerned 
 from the court-yard. A small archway and a narrow corri 
 dor, which pierced like a tunnel to the exterior wall of the 
 monastery, conducted to a small plat of ground, which was 
 the chief source of recreation to the convent inmates, and 
 which well rewarded their patience and skill. Every par 
 ticle of earth had been laboriously transported hither, and 
 was artificially retained and watered ; still the garden suf 
 ficed for the production and growth of every mountain herb 
 and flower which could enrich and beautify the place. Here, 
 in the midst of his floral treasures, the Superior might often 
 be seen, laboring with as true a zeal as that of the plodding 
 husbandmen, who with their single yoke of oxen were dili 
 gently tilling the olive-orchard and grain-fields below. As 
 Havilah and Meredith approached, he stood, leaning on 
 his spade, looking forth on the broad lands of the distant 
 plain, which had once been the property of his predecessors, 
 and, wrapped in his black gown and capuchin-like hood, 
 resembled rather a statue of porphyry than a living being. 
 On hearing the sound of footsteps, he turned quickly round, 
 revealing an attenuated face and figure, and a grave, melan 
 choly expression of countenance. A cordial though sickly
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 89 
 
 and evidently unwonted smile played over his pale features, 
 as he bestowed a paternal benediction on Havilah, and 
 greeted Meredith with friendly hospitality, though with 
 scarcely more enthusiasm than had been evinced by the 
 other friars. He warmed into animation, however, as Havi 
 lah inquired after each of his vegetable favorites, commented 
 on the growth of each rare shrub, and finally exclaimed, with 
 delight, as she caught sight of a rose which had been the 
 object of his care and contemplation for months, " It has 
 blossomed at last ! O how beautiful ! " 
 
 " It is yours, my daughter," was the eager response ; and 
 stooping down, the devoted gardener removed it reveren 
 tially from its stalk, and placed it in Havilah's hand with 
 the air of one Avho is laying a sacrifice on an altar, adding, 
 as he did so, " It is the first-fruits of my labors, dedicated 
 to the Mother lanthe." Then turning to Meredith, he ad 
 dressed him in Italian, a language with which the English 
 man was fortunately acquainted, and, leading the way back to 
 the convent, proposed to conduct him through the buildings, 
 urging him at the same time, if he purposed remaining in 
 the country, to take up his abode within its walls. 
 
 Though the latter part of the proposition was respectfully 
 declined, the former was accepted with alacrity. Father 
 Ambrose, with due deference, retired to his bench in the 
 court-yard, and Meredith made a survey of the ancient 
 building under the guidance of the Superior, and under 
 his guidance alone, it may be added, for Havilah had disap 
 peared at the same moment with Father Ambrose, though 
 in a different direction. Had Meredith been less familiar 
 with the impulsive and independent movements of the young 
 girl, he would have felt some anxiety for her safety among 
 the lonely corridors and dim archways of the half-dilapi 
 dated convent ; and it must be confessed that, even with his
 
 90 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 knowledge of her self-reliant habits, he was somewhat re 
 lieved when, having passed through chapel, refectory, and 
 dormitory, explored subterranean vaults, and surveyed the 
 prospect from the high tower, he was at length ushered into 
 the antique library, and beheld her quietly seated on the 
 low sill of a deep-set Gothic window, the floor around her 
 strewn with strange old books and manuscripts, while Father 
 Anastase was seeking amid his musty archives for some 
 hidden volume which he had reason to believe would suit 
 her erratic tastes. 
 
 She looked up as Meredith and the Superior entered, 
 responded slightly to the former's smile of surprise and 
 recognition, but, without suffering herself to be interrupted 
 by their presence, continued her eager examination of the 
 books by which she was surrounded, selected that which 
 she most coveted, then, gathering up the remainder, assisted 
 Father Anastase in restoring them to their proper places, 
 a service with which the old librarian could ill dispense, 
 since his ignorance was such that he could not even read 
 the titles of the volumes whose exterior it was his pride to 
 have handled all his life long. 
 
 Meredith was in the mean time listening with what pa 
 tience he might to the somewhat tedious narration of the 
 Superior, who had an almost interminable story to tell of 
 the past greatness of the establishment, its privileges and 
 endowments. Her labors finished, Havilah drew within 
 hearing, and bestowed for a while the most docile and re 
 spectful attention upon the old man's words, though she 
 could not now and then avoid an incredulous smile at some 
 of the absurd legends in which the simple monks placed the 
 most implicit faith. At length, bethinking herself of the 
 lateness of the hour, she took advantage of a pause in the 
 convent history, and, with a graceful apology to the Superior,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 91 
 
 urged the necessity for departure. Meredith at once ac 
 ceded to the proposition. They declined with united voice a 
 cordial offer of refreshment, on the plea that dinner, which 
 had been delayed on their account, would be awaiting them 
 at the villa, and the whole party now hastened to the court 
 yard. It was near the hour for the refectory bell to sound, 
 and the monks, thirteen in number, had all assembled round 
 Geita and Bachmet, each eager to express thanks for his 
 share in lanthe's bounty, and to send back some slight token 
 of gratitude, in the shape of ripe fruit, mammoth vegetables, 
 or a bunch of rare herbs. 
 
 It was interesting to watch Havilah moving amid the lit 
 tle group, the cheerfulness of her pleasant parting words 
 reflected in each shrunken face, and her gay garments con 
 trasting with their time-worn habiliments, like the tints of 
 some bright bird flitting among the dry twigs and withered 
 leaves of autumn. From Meredith the simple friars kept 
 a little aloof, his reserved bearing evidently impressing them 
 with a sense of restraint which was not observable in their 
 Superior, who with grave decorum accompanied his guests 
 to the inner portal, where he bade them farewell. He man 
 ifested a slight shade of embarrassment as Meredith with 
 some hesitation placed in his hand a generous gratuity. 
 His fingers closed eagerly over it, however, nor could he 
 resist a quick glance at the glittering gold, which his hum 
 bler brethren were gazing at with undisguised satisfaction. 
 
 Nor was old Ambrose forgotten ; he, too, received the 
 recompense of his services, and it was not without reason 
 that, as he barred the gateway behind the visitors, he prayed 
 that the good Virgin might soon send them thither again. 
 
 This visit to the convent, in spite of the tedious narra 
 tives of the old Superior, had but served to increase Mere 
 dith's interest in the place and its isolated inmates, an
 
 92 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 interest which was still further heightened by the graphic 
 sketches which Havilah gave him, on their homeward way, 
 of the remarkable ruins and archaeological curiosities with 
 which the mountain abounded, and to which the old friars 
 could readily guide him. " They believe them," said she, 
 " the remains of temples erected in the time of the Crusaders, 
 and they will relate to you many a marvellous legend of 
 miracles performed at the sacred shrines ; but Father La- 
 pierre, who is as learned as the monks are ignorant, ascribes 
 these ruins to an earlier age, and thinks them the remains 
 of temples erected in the high places by the ancient Hivites 
 for the worship of Baal." 
 
 Perhaps this information, with various other hints equally 
 suggestive to the antiquarian and man of science, could not 
 have been better timed ; for so thoroughly was the spirit of 
 exploration aroused in Meredith, that he fully resolved to 
 come hither again at the earliest opportunity, and, animated 
 by this resolve, was steeled against the difficulties of the 
 mountain descent, which was even more perilous than the 
 ascent had been. Under the influence of Havilah's ex 
 ample, however, he was becoming an adept in pedestrian 
 exploits, and they soon found themselves at the foot of the 
 declivity, where they crossed the water-course in the same 
 manner as in the morning. 
 
 They had scarcely gained the other side, and struck once 
 more into the flowery path, when they were joined by M. 
 Lapierre, who, hearing of their excursion, and the probable 
 hour of their return, had come to meet them. Meredith, 
 eager to learn more of the Canaanitish ruins, turned the 
 conversation in that direction, and Father Lapierre, equally 
 ready for antiquarian disquisition and argument, entered 
 upon a discourse replete with interest to both his listeners, 
 and which fully engrossed their time and attention during 
 their homeward walk to the villa.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 93 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THIS visit to the convent was but one among many simi 
 lar excursions which Meredith made in the companionship 
 of Havilah, though seldom in the exclusive enjoyment of 
 her society. Whether Father Lapierre's superior acquaint 
 ance with the world had taught him a degree of caution 
 unknown to M. Trefoil, or whether the former simply fol 
 lowed the leading of his own inclinations, it henceforth 
 rarely proved the case that a mountain expedition was un 
 dertaken which did not include the good missionary in the 
 party. His distant, parochial labors, however, afforded him 
 a sufficient pretext for frequently proposing to accompany 
 his young friends, and aid Havilah in the duties delegated 
 to her by her father ; and it may be doubted whether the old 
 man's true motive was ever suspected either by Meredith 
 or his guide, both of whom appeared to find equal delight 
 in the rich and varied resources with which M. Lapierre 
 contributed to their edification and enjoyment. 
 
 Had Meredith sought to evade this venerable guardian 
 ship, nothing would have been easier than for him to intrude 
 himself upon Havilah's solitary hours, for he was familiar 
 with her daily avocations, knew all her accustomed haunts, 
 and the precise moment when she might be encountered at 
 the peasant's cottages, the mission school, or at Ayn el Bered, 
 where she went regularly to procure her mother's noonday 
 beverage. But even if he had been capable of thus taking
 
 94 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 advantage of the confidence reposed in him, nothing was 
 further from his thoughts than attempting to play the gal 
 lant towards the young girl, who neither sought nor avoided 
 his society, but treated him with the simple, unaffected cor 
 diality which she might have bestowed on a respected kins 
 man, long admitted to the privileges of the household. 
 
 Had Meredith's early impressions of Havilah continued 
 in full force, had he departed on his travels with only the 
 vague, mystical sense of beauty which dawned upon him in 
 the chapel on the first night of his arrival, and was confirmed 
 by the vision that haunted him in his illness, it is probable 
 that she would have been treasured in his memory as a dim 
 unreality, the angelic but shadowy creation of his fancy. 
 But this poetic dream could not exist in the daylight of his 
 . nearer intercourse with her. He had been startled from it 
 A\lien she burst upon him in the character of a mountain 
 wood-nymph ; he forgot it altogether as he beheld her amid 
 the endearing relations of her home. 
 
 But although the fictitious emotions of an imaginative 
 mind had been thus suddenly dissipated, they were super 
 seded by sentiments none the less engrossing. The pictu 
 resque beauty of Havilah's face and figure, the artless and 
 attractive graces of her manner, so far from being dimmed 
 by familiarity, gained new power with every variq on of her 
 features, every circumstance which called her sensibilities 
 into play ; and the Englishman, who, in the isolated enjoy 
 ment of his favorite pursuits had hitherto seemed blind and 
 deaf to female fascinations, became lost in admiration and 
 curiosity. Not that admiration which seeks to appropriate 
 what is fair, but that artistic and zealous enthusiasm which 
 he would have bestowed upon any other lovely object in 
 nature ; not that rude curiosity which avails itself of every 
 opportunity to pry into the sacred recesses of life and char-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 95 
 
 acter, for he would not for worlds have invaded her inde 
 pendent range of thought and action, but rather that intense 
 and absorbing interest which made her every word a prob 
 lem, her every motion a study. 
 
 This deep, and, to Meredith himself, half-conscious influ 
 ence, would never have strengthened into a motive power, 
 it might even have sunk into indifference or been palled by 
 satiety, had Havilah been nothing more than the light- 
 hearted mountain girl, the idol of her parents, the pride of 
 the highland valley. The man of large culture and fastid 
 ious tastes would soon have wearied of her fair features if 
 they had never been illumined by intelligence, would have 
 smiled with ill-disguised contempt at her simplicity, if it had 
 been but another name for ignorance, and would have been 
 disgusted with her unfailing good-humor, if it had ever 
 degenerated into insipidity. 
 
 But Havilah, heir as she was of many and varied gifts, 
 had been trained in a school which eminently fitted her for 
 the companionship of an intellectual and cultivated man. 
 From infancy she had been the cherished pupil of M. La- 
 pierre, and the mind in which he had early awakened the 
 thirst for knowledge had drunk freely from the ever open 
 fountain of his ripened wisdom and experience. The ac 
 complishments which to many cost years of labor had been 
 hers by circumstance or intuition. Music had come to her 
 as an inspiration, and most of the modern languages had 
 been familiar to her ears from childhood. Thus she had 
 been spared much of the usual toilsome routine, and had 
 found time for the severer pursuits into which it had been 
 M. Lapierre's delight to initiate her, even at a tender age. 
 Nor had books been the only or the chief means of her in 
 struction. Hand in hand with the old man, she had trod the 
 mountain paths, each tree, each stone, each flower furnishing
 
 96 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 the lesson in natural science, each castellated ruin or de 
 serted shrine the open volume in which she read the history 
 of a mighty past. But better far than all her acquirements 
 was the sweet docility with which she ever bent her mind to 
 new attainments. Labor as she might, she could never 
 probe the depths of her master's learning ; and as the pious 
 man had not forgotten to impress her with the truth that his 
 own stores of knowledge were but as a drop in the sea of 
 the great unknown, she had been saved alike from pedantry 
 and presumption, and, ignorant of the comparative progress 
 she had made, maintained invariably the mental attitude of 
 a child. 
 
 It was this, perhaps, more than any other trait, which cap 
 tivated her father's English guest. Astonished he might 
 well be, when accident revealed her familiarity with abstruse 
 science, when, in the capacity of his Lebanon guide, she 
 readily deciphered some old Saracenic inscription, or defined 
 the intricate shades of ancient architecture ; but the moments 
 when her winning graces stole into his heart were those in 
 which, having strayed beyond the boundaries of her own 
 sphere of learning, she plied him with some earnest question, 
 or fixed her large eyes gravely on his face, while he dis 
 coursed on some foreign land or original theme. Nor is 
 this strange ; for man loves a reverential spirit in woman, 
 and the Englishman was by nature proud. 
 
 Meredith's genius was of the reflective order ; but never 
 had he meditated with such ardor as upon the subject which 
 now engrossed him. He had been a student all his life, but 
 he had never been so enamored of study ; he had philoso 
 phized upon men and thing?, but never had he so flattered 
 himself that he saw and interpreted aright, as while he 
 watched the unfolding of Havilah's youthful charms, and 
 read a new treatise upon humanity on the fair and open 
 page of the young girl's character.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 97 
 
 But there were moments when, despite all the progress 
 he had made, he felt himself suddenly baffled ; moments 
 when the sympathetic chain seemed broken, and he could 
 no 'longer comprehend the emotions veiled beneath Havi- 
 lah's countenance. A look, a word, was sometimes enough 
 to call up that expression, so strangely sweet, so deeply 
 incomprehensible, which had awed him when he first be 
 held her in the village church, but which now, as then, 
 he failed to trace to its mysterious source. It was no 
 searching glance, no pensive melancholy, which thus stole 
 over the face, rested there a moment, then vanished grad 
 ually away, or melted into a smile ; it was but the reflection 
 of an inward communing, a look such as infants sometimes 
 wear when mothers say, " Hush ! the angels whisper to 
 them." Let it come when or how it would, however, let it 
 overspread the face for a moment only, or linger upon it 
 for hours, it never failed to check the young man's pre 
 sumptuous faith in his own penetration, to throw him back 
 to the earliest point in his acquaintance with Havilah, and 
 impress him with the conviction that, after all, he understood 
 scarce anything of her inner nature. 
 
 He little knew that, while he lent himself to the engrossing 
 study of her heart and life, daily becoming more familiar 
 with every external gift and grace, and arrested only on the 
 verge of the spiritual realm, she, through the power of her 
 own simplicity, was reading and comprehending him as no 
 mortal had ever done before, that with the clearness of an 
 unsophisticated mind she was weighing him in the balance, 
 and that by the intuition of her own pure spirit she had 
 probed the depths of his unsatisfied soul, and had beheld 
 the void within. 
 
 "We have said that there was nothing clandestine in the 
 conduct or views of Meredith. Still less did it occur to his 
 5 a
 
 98 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 simple-minded entertainers to attribute to him any other 
 interest in their household than that of a friendly guest; 
 and looking upon him merely in the light of an intelli 
 gent and earnest traveller, they sought, not to engross his 
 society, but to facilitate his acquaintance with the beauties, 
 the antiquities, and the natural resources of their Syrian 
 home. 
 
 Had he been wanting in the enthusiasm requisite to the 
 Oriental traveller, he could not have failed to find inspira 
 tion in El Fureidis. Both M. Trefoil and M. Lapierre had 
 implicit faith in Syria, the one in its internal capabilities, 
 its striking position among nations, its industrial facilities, 
 and its future destiny as the depot and mart of Eastern 
 and Western commerce; the other, in its soul-stirring 
 memories, its incomparable beauties, its historical and 
 scientific records, its ever-living verdict in confirmation 
 of recorded truth. 
 
 True enthusiasm seldom fails to make converts ; and 
 both these ardent men found in Meredith a ready disciple 
 to their creed. Each vied with the other in exciting his 
 interest and riveting his attention, and each in turn had the 
 satisfaction of awakening his sympathetic zeal, and seeing 
 with what unflagging devotion he engaged in their favorite 
 explorations and researches. 
 
 Many, therefore, were the schemes that were formed, the 
 excursions that were mapped out, for the benefit of our trav 
 eller, and the promotion of the objects which he cherished 
 in common with his new friends. Some of these expedi 
 tions led to places of interest in the neighborhood, and occu 
 pied but a single day ; others were of greater magnitude, 
 giving rise to extensive preparation, and not infrequently 
 involving exciting incident and adventure. In the former 
 case, M. Lapierre and Havilah were usually Meredith's
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 99 
 
 companions ; in the latter, he was accompanied only by 
 hired guides, or, as business cares became less pressing, by 
 M. Trefoil, who on one occasion joined him on an interesting 
 circuit among the mountains, including a visit to some of 
 the cities of the sea-coast, and occupying no less than a 
 week. 
 
 It must be confessed, however, that while fully appreciat 
 ing the information gained in these more extended tours, 
 the most grateful feature attending them, in Meredith's esti 
 mation, was the cordial welcome home ; and that he gave 
 his unhesitating preference to those shorter and less preten 
 tious journeys, when, accompanied by the hoary old man and 
 the light-footed maiden, he spent the day among the Baruk 
 mountains, and returned at night to the sweet seclusion of 
 the villa. 
 
 It was on these occasions that he realized most fully the 
 pleasures of congenial intercourse, and gained a closer knowl 
 edge of Havilah's peculiar graces of intellect and heart ; 
 for, though Father Lapierre's was ever the leading mind, the 
 old man wisely forbore to exercise any restraint upon his 
 cherished pupil, but, satisfied with the protection his pres 
 ence afforded, left to her all the minor duties of hostess and 
 guide, for which she was admirably fitted. It was on these 
 occasions, too, that, unconsciously to himself, the character 
 istic bias of Meredith's mind was not infrequently exhibited, 
 though in those delicate lines of light and shade perceptible 
 only to a pure and exalted sensibility. 
 
 This unique, but as it were organized trio of pedestrian?, 
 were returning one evening from a pilgrimage to the little 
 village of Baruk, on the opposite side of the mountain to 
 that on which El Fureidis is situated. It was near the hour 
 of sunset, and, as they approached the topmost verge of the 
 mountain, Meredith and Havilah instinctively quickened
 
 100 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 their footsteps, that they might enjoy the magnificent pros 
 pect which the elevation afforded while yet clothed in the 
 gorgeous western light. The path, as usual, was precipitous, 
 and Father Lapierre, who, though an equally skilful, was a 
 far less agile climber, continued somewhat in the rear, and, 
 proceeding with firm but measured step, was still at the 
 foot of the final acclivity when his companions gained the 
 summit. 
 
 Meredith had stood with entranced vision upon many of 
 the glorious heights of Lebanon, but never had the circum 
 stance and the hour combined to impart such sublimity to 
 the scene. Far as the eye could reach, in every direction, it 
 commanded a panorama of mingled beauty and grandeur, 
 from the yellow corn-fields and dusky olive-groves of the 
 Eastern plain to the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean, 
 which terminated the western view. Here stretched a long 
 mountain line, the fertile sides of the nearer hills clothed 
 with terraced groves and vineyards, and embosoming white 
 villages in their sheltered nooks. Yonder might be seen 
 distant and more rugged crags, bristling with precipices of 
 tawny rock, seamed with dark-brown veins, and clothed at 
 intervals with the heavy foliage of the fir and pine. Tow 
 ering above all, the hoary Hermon reared its lofty crest, 
 capped with snow which glistened like silver in the light of 
 the setting sun. Far away against the horizon might be 
 dimly discerned the graceful outline of lesser ridges, which, 
 veiled in misty blue, seemed to melt into the very ether ; and 
 along the shore of the placid sea might be traced the undu 
 lating curves of the sandy coast, with the white walls and 
 towers of Beyrout standing boldly out against their dark 
 background of orchards, gardens, and groves. If anything 
 could have served to add dignity to such a scene, it was 
 furnished by the solemn memorials of the past which were
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 101 
 
 scattered at the very feet of the beholder. On the moun 
 tain summit, thrown together in wildest confusion, either by 
 an earthquake or the mighty hand of some human destroyer, 
 lay the ruins of an ancient temple, such as are frequent 
 in these regions, and which, although their precise origin is 
 unknown to the traveller, are in themselves impressive 
 chroniclers of a once powerful race and age, the lofty por 
 ticos, broken pilasters, and huge levelled blocks of stone 
 telling of the majestic hand which reared them, a hand 
 only less mighty than that which hurled them down. 
 
 Seated on a fallen column, impressed by the sublimity of 
 the scene, and scarcely less so perhaps by its perfect re 
 pose, Meredith and Havilah gazed upon the prospect for a 
 while in a silence which was at length broken by the former. 
 " No wonder," exclaimed he, " that the old poets of Syria 
 were inspired by such visions of nature as they were per 
 mitted to enjoy ! No wonder that their imagery is un 
 equalled in beauty and grandeur, since it was drawn from 
 such a source ! " and with the eloquent tongue of one whose 
 artistic and poetical enthusiasm is aroused, he repeated, not 
 without fine effect, some of those many passages of the 
 ancient prophets descriptive of the greatness and glory of 
 Lebanon. 
 
 Havilah listened with pleasure to the recital, half wonder 
 ing, meanwhile, at Meredith's familiarity with Scripture. 
 He had scarcely finished, when the venerable head of Father 
 Lapierre appeared above the bare rocks which lined the 
 mountain pass, the hood of his black cloak having fallen 
 back, permitting the light evening breeze to sway his hoary 
 locks, while his noble countenance was lit by an expression 
 of beatific joy. The sun sunk to the verge of the horizon 
 at the very moment when the old man planted his foot on a 
 heavy fragment of rock just above the fallen column on
 
 102 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 which his companions were seated, and at the same instant 
 the vesper-bells of the neighboring village sounded a musical 
 stroke, which was echoed from cliff to cliff, was answered 
 by more distant peals from the various convents among the 
 mountains, and all the notes in turn were caught up and re 
 echoed through height and valley, until the air rang with 
 the sacred chime. 
 
 As the monitory sounds died away upon the air, the 
 majestic old man, whose figure seemed to expand in the 
 glowing light, pointed with one hand towards the expiring 
 rays of the sun, which were gilding earth and sea, then, 
 stretching the other towards the slender crescent just dis 
 cernible in the topmost ether, broke forth with grave em 
 phasis in the words of the Psalmist : 
 
 " ' He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth ; He toucheth 
 the hills, and they smoke. Man goeth forth unto his work 
 and to his labor until the evening. O Lord, how manifold 
 are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : the 
 earth is full of thy riches. The glory of the Lord shall 
 endure forever! I will sing unto the Lord as long as I 
 live. My meditation of him shall be sweet. I will be 
 glad in the Lord.'" 
 
 The sacred harpist of Israel himself could scarcely have 
 looked more sweetly sanctified than did the holy man who 
 thus gave vent to his feelings in worship. Havilah had 
 been impressed by the appropriateness of Meredith's Scrip 
 tural allusions, but a deeper sympathetic chord was struck 
 as the saintly priest rose above the worship of nature, and 
 poured out his soul in gladness to the Lord. She rose from 
 her seat beside Meredith, gently drew near to the old man, 
 locked her arm within his, and, while the Englishman coolly 
 took out his drawing-materials and commenced a sketch, 
 she followed the serene flight of her soul's best friend, and,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 103 
 
 soaring beyond the confines of this mortal realm, both spirits 
 felt themselves for a while transported into the nearer 
 Presence before the throne of God. 
 
 When Meredith looked up from the complicated outlines 
 of his unfinished drawing, that look was on Havilah's face 
 which he had vainly tried to understand. "With her wonted 
 courtesy she approached and examined his sketch, but her 
 thoughts had been ranging beyond the sphere which can be 
 measured by angles and lines, and she could not at once 
 bring herself to the comprehension of those rules of art 
 with which her English friend had lately sought to acquaint 
 her. 
 
 When, therefore, Father Lapierre, who remembered the 
 difficulties of the return-path to the villa, suggested that they 
 should commence the descent before the shades of night 
 overtook them, Meredith closed with alacrity the book whose 
 fly-leaf had served him for a tablet, and, with a mind sin 
 gularly out of tune, accompanied his friends down the 
 mountain, oppressed with the undefined consciousness that 
 the old man and the young girl were in the enjoyment of 
 a communion of spirit from which he was ungenerously 
 excluded. 
 
 The book which had furnished Meredith with drawing- 
 paper, and which was seldom absent from him in his ram 
 bles, was the same sacred volume which had suggested 
 to him words of beauty, and had dictated to Father La 
 pierre a hymn of praise. This English pocket-Bible, which 
 served our traveller as text-book, manual, and guide in his 
 journeyings and explorations through Palestine, bore many 
 marks of the frequency with which it was called into 
 requisition. Its margins were crowded with annotations 
 and references, numerous leaves were turned down at the 
 corners, or had slips of paper inserted between them, and
 
 104 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 in general appearance it resembled not a little the note 
 book of a man of business. 
 
 It was produced for consultation on all occasions, and 
 was the arbiter in all doubtful questions of Hebrew litera 
 ture, Syrian route, and antiquarian research. In the long 
 evening conversations on the housetop, when Havilah, 
 seated on the upper stair, with her head resting against 
 her father's knee, listened to the discussion of excursions 
 that were past or the arrangements for future travels, the 
 unquestioned facts of Scripture were the invariable records 
 with which experiences were compared or expectations 
 adduced ; and of nothing could Meredith be more unjustly 
 accused than of indifference to the authority which in this 
 view he found invaluable. To Havilah's clear percep 
 tions, however, nothing so fully held the mirror up to this 
 man's nature as his estimation of the volume to her so 
 precious. It taught him the way, but not the only way, 
 the truth, but not the highest truth ; for he had yet to learn 
 that he bore with him in his wanderings the spirit's com 
 pass and the soul's great guide.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 105 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE summer had passed. The silk-worms had spun their 
 cocoons and perished. The harvests of corn and wheat had 
 been beaten out on the clay threshing-floor, and gathered 
 into the garners. The olive-trees had been shaken, the ripe 
 fruit heaped into the laps of the laughing maidens, and the 
 portion that still clung to the boughs left for the wayfarer 
 and the gleaner. The grapes had ripened on the vine, in 
 clusters as rich and heavy as those which the ancient 
 Hebrews brought from Eschol to the prophet when they 
 went to spy out the wealth of the land. The noise of the 
 vintage-shouting had gone up as the men and boys trod out 
 the rich wine in the wine-presses. The time of labor was 
 over, and the short season of rest had come to the husband 
 man. Abdoul, according to promise, had returned from the 
 desert. The noble steeds of pure Arab blood, which the 
 sheik's son had purchased for the Frank from the best that 
 his tribe could boast, chafed within their stalls, snuffed the 
 air with their nostrils, pawed the ground, and panted with 
 impatience at their new master's long delay. And still the 
 Englishman lingered in El Fureidis. 
 
 It was now the month of October, the annual period, not 
 of rest only, but of festivity to the peasant of the Lebanon, 
 and the village of El Fureidis was rife with mirth and 
 gayety in honor of the nuptials of Asaad and Hendia, 
 Asaad, the native overseer in the factory of M. Trefoil, 
 Hendia, the comely daughter of Tyiby (the good). 
 5*
 
 106 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 It was a universal holiday. The factory bells were ring 
 ing, not with the monotonous sound which was wont to 
 summon the artisans to their work, but with the gleeful 
 notes of jubilee. The village matrons, clothed in their best, 
 and proudly bearing on their heads the heavy tantours, 
 tokens of their own matrimonial dignity, were wending 
 their way to the cottage of Yoosoof, each bearing some 
 trifling gift to the bride. The young men, with rude instru 
 ments of music in their hands, were already forming the 
 procession which was to serve as an escort to the bride 
 groom. The master's daughter, without whose presence the 
 ceremony would scarcely have been deemed complete, was 
 dressed in gala attire, and, followed by her bounding gazelle, 
 was now roaming through lanthe's garden, gathering flowers 
 from which to weave with her own hands the bridal chaplets ; 
 while the master himself, standing on his house-top, gazed 
 with satisfaction on the groups of gay and prosperous vil 
 lagers, then turned to address a remark to Meredith, who 
 stood beside him. 
 
 " It does my heart good," said the benevolent manufac 
 turer, " to see my people so happy. I call them mine, and 
 I assure you I feel like a father to them all. This village 
 was one of the least thriving of the neighborhood when I 
 settled here, Mr. Meredith. The siroccos had for several 
 years in succession injured the crops, the terraces had fallen 
 into decay, conscription and taxes had depopulated and im 
 poverished the place, and feuds between the Druses and 
 Maronites had effected still worse results. But you see 
 what we have accomplished. I do not speak boastfully. 
 It is the same wherever among the mountains European 
 arts and civilization have been introduced, or, if this is 
 more fortunate than other villages, it is due chiefly to 
 Father Lapierre's influence, not to mine."
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 107 
 
 " You have every reason to be proud, the proudest man 
 I know," exclaimed Meredith, energetically ; responding to 
 M. Trefoil's general remarks, but with a gaze fixed upon 
 his daughter, whose figure was discernible from the spot 
 where the two men stood. 
 
 " O no, not proud," was the prompt and sincere reply ; 
 "only grateful. But, my friend, I am not satisfied yet. 
 Thanks to your liberal aid, I mean to do far more for my 
 self, my work-people, and the example of our neighbors. 
 This introduction of steam into my factory is to be of 
 essential service. Our supply of water is ample, but irreg 
 ular, very irregular. This new agent is to be depended 
 upon, it will accomplish wonders." And while Meredith 
 listened in a half-absent way, his host proceeded to dilate 
 upon the advantages of the new and long-desired experi 
 ment, which, through his guest's prompt and generous 
 advancement of the necessary capital, the manufacturer had 
 been recently enabled to make. 
 
 It had been no slight satisfaction to Meredith acciden 
 tally to discover a method by which he could defray some 
 portion of his obligation to M. Trefoil, whose expenditure 
 had so kept pace with his success, that it had never hith 
 erto been in his power to make the projected improvement 
 in his machinery. As, however, the wealthy Englishman's 
 order upon his banker for the necessary amount had been 
 received by the sanguine manufacturer in the same care 
 less, unhesitating spirit in which it was offered, it had been 
 a matter of scarcely any moment to Meredith, who would 
 have soon ceased to remember both the loan and its object, 
 had they not been subjects of such engrossing interest to 
 the adventurous and eager man of business. 
 
 It was with feigned interest, therefore, that Meredith 
 listened to M. Trefoil's speculative schemes, until his atten-
 
 108 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 tion was irresistibly arrested by his host's remarking, in an 
 apologetic tone, that, owing to the unusual cares which his 
 new project involved, he feared he should not be able, after 
 all, to indulge himself in the proposed excursion to Jeru 
 salem. 
 
 " I fear I have been very selfish in this matter," contin 
 ued the simple-minded man, as he observed the expression 
 of regret which crossed Meredith's countenance. " I have 
 allowed you to linger in this neighborhood an unreasonable 
 length of time, awaiting my movements, only to disappoint 
 you in the end. I was perfectly frank in my intentions, 
 that you will not doubt, but, to be candid with you, I do 
 not see " 
 
 " M. Trefoil," cried Meredith, abruptly interrupting him, 
 while the color mounted into the Englishman's face, and 
 his eyes were for an instant turned away from the garden 
 on which they had hitherto been fastened, " do not mor 
 tify me by apologies. Your frankness challenges mine. 
 It is I only who have been selfish in this delay. I have 
 trespassed most unconscionably on your hospitality. I have 
 had it in my mind to depart a hundred times ; I am 
 ashamed of my own weakness, for I dare not stay, and 
 yet " he paused, then concluded with the vehement utter 
 ance of one from whom the truth is wrung in spite of 
 himself " I cannot go." 
 
 M. Trefoil looked confounded, less at the young man's 
 words than at his manner, for he had withdrawn a few 
 steps as he finished speaking, and stood leaning over the 
 parapet to protect himself from the puzzled and questioning 
 gaze which the manufacturer fixed upon him. But the 
 simplicity of M. Trefoil was not diminished, however his 
 equanimity might be disturbed by his guest's impetuous out 
 burst; and, preferring to give to it the most natural and
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 109 
 
 agreeable interpretation, he approached, laid his hand on 
 Meredith's shoulder, and exclaimed with affectionate warmth: 
 " You are not a man of the world, Mr. Meredith. You like 
 our simple ways: so much the better. El Fureidis has 
 charms for you. In this you and I sympathize. Your 
 English friends may perhaps be wondering what keeps you 
 here, but I " 
 
 He had proceeded thus far, when he was checked by the 
 sound of a musical voice and laugh, and, obedient both to this 
 and to the fixedness of the Englishman's gaze, he gave a quick 
 glance over the parapet into the garden below. A glow 
 of loving pride overspread the father's face as he beheld 
 Havilah, her graceful throat arched and her head slightly 
 thrown back, as she looked upward, not to the height of 
 the parapet, but to the latticed window where the invalid 
 lanthe reclined, watching the motions of her daughter. The 
 garlands of flowers were completed, and the gazelle, stand 
 ing erect beside his mistress, triumphantly supported one 
 around his neck, while Havilah, laughing at the little crea 
 ture's air of participation in the display, held up the other 
 also for her mother's inspection. 
 
 Never had the mountain-girl appeared, either in her fond 
 father's or her admiring lover's eyes, so sweetly yet royally 
 beautiful. The latter now saw her for the first time in her 
 mother's national dress, the modern Greek costume, 
 which she wore only on festive occasions. If anything 
 could have added to the dignity of her erect carriage, it 
 was the little embroidered cap, beneath which were looped 
 the massive braids of her dark hair, and whose heavy gold 
 tassels nearly swept her shoulders. The gold bordering of 
 her velvet jacket, and the threads of the same rich material 
 interwoven in her broad Persian sash, glistened in the 
 sunshine, and the silken pattern wrought upon her full
 
 HO EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 muslin skirt rivalled the floral show of nature around her. 
 But more than all the aids of a becoming toilette, the glow 
 of an innocent heart lent loveliness to her features, and 
 sympathy with others' joy gave animation and vivacity to 
 every movement. She did not see her father or his com 
 panion, and the smiles which lit up her face were meant 
 only for her mother. 
 
 M. Trefoil gazed upon her a moment in silence, then 
 turned towards Meredith, and, the latter looking up at the 
 same instant, their eyes met. Meredith attempted no con 
 cealment; his countenance spoke volumes. With an em 
 phatic glance in the direction of Havilah, he took up the 
 conversation where it had dropped, and said impressively, 
 " Can you wonder ? " 
 
 The light which suddenly shone into the honest mind of 
 M. Trefoil was as complete as had been his previous blind 
 ness. For one moment he looked bewildered, almost over 
 whelmed, with astonishment. Then, as Meredith was about 
 to turn away, with that air of reserve, and even of mortifi 
 cation, which a haughty and sensitive man feels when he has 
 humbled himself to the confession of a secret, the sympa 
 thetic heart of M. Trefoil was moved ; he started forward, 
 grasped both the young man's hands in his, and exclaimed : 
 " No, I cannot wonder ; nor need you be ashamed to confess 
 it, if, as I suspect, you but share the weakness of us all, 
 the mother, Father Lapierre, the village peasants, those old, 
 gray monks, that wild boy of the desert, and even the little 
 gazelle, if" he hesitated, looked searchingly in Meredith's 
 face, then concluded abruptly " if you love the child." 
 
 " I do," was the proud Englishman's answer. 
 
 " Does she know it ? " asked M. Trefoil, earnestly, a shade 
 of paternal anxiety marking the countenance usually so care 
 lessly confiding.
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. HI 
 
 " She does not," replied Meredith ; " nor have I any 
 knowledge of her sentiments. Until this moment, indeed, 
 I have never fully understood my own." 
 
 " That is well," rejoined the father, in a relieved tone, at 
 the same time withdrawing his hands from Meredith's, clasp 
 ing them behind his back, and giving several affirmative 
 nods. " That is well, Mr. Meredith. She is such a child, 
 such a mere child, what should she know of love and mat 
 rimony? You did right to speak to me first. You have 
 acted like a man of honor, as you are. And you shall have 
 her, my good friend ; I give you my hand on that. I did 
 not realize that my little rose-bud had ripened into a rose. 
 I had not dreamed" and he breathed a deep sigh 
 " of a stranger from another land seeking to pluck my blos 
 som from the parent tree. I never would have believed " 
 and the broad chest heaved convulsively, while the voice 
 grew choked and husky "that I would have given my 
 darling to the first man that asked for her ; but I can't 
 refuse you, Mr. Meredith, no, on my soul, I can't. You 
 have stolen the father's heart, and you shall have the 
 child." 
 
 "But the child's heart?" said Meredith, speaking in a 
 tone that was far from elated, and which would have acted 
 as a check upon a less sanguine man than M. Trefoil. 
 " You forget that I have neither stolen nor won that." 
 
 " Tut, tut, man, don't disparage yourself," said M. Trefoil, 
 laying his hand familiarly on the shoulder of the Englishman, 
 and resuming his wonted air of easy unconcern. " Is such a 
 face and figure as yours- to go a begging for a wife ? Why, 
 if I were a girl, I 'd marry you myself, my fine fellow ; and 
 is Havjlah blind, deaf, and cold as a stone, that she should 
 close her tender little heart against the man whom even her 
 doting old father considers worthy of his child ? 3N"o, no,
 
 112 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 I '11 venture to say you have not been paying your court in 
 vain, Mr. Meredith. At all events, we '11 soon come at the 
 truth; for the mother must know, and I'll speak of the 
 matter to her to-night." 
 
 " By no means, I beg of you," entreated Meredith, with a 
 distressed countenance and a startled, deprecating gesture. 
 
 " You are not in earnest, then ? " said M. Trefoil, with 
 frank simplicity. 
 
 " Never was man more so," replied Meredith, in an im 
 patient tone ; " but give me time, I beseech of you. Let 
 me discover the truth for myself." 
 
 " What ! talk of love to the child ! Impossible ! That is 
 not our Oriental fashion. She would be as much shocked 
 and startled as a desert fawn at the whizzing of an arrow. 
 You would destroy your own hopes. So, not a word to 
 Havilah. Let me speak to the mother; and if you wish 
 for an advocate, let it be lanthe." 
 
 Meredith bit his lip. His face was dark with an uneasy 
 frown. He felt that he had committed himself, and was 
 bound to submit to the dictation of this unsophisticated man. 
 He had no positive wish to retract his words, to recall his 
 confession ; and yet all the sentiment and romance, as well 
 as all the fastidious reserve of his character, rebelled against 
 the position in which he found himself placed. 
 
 His dissatisfaction and annoyance, however, were either 
 imputed simply to thoughtful earnestness, or were wholly 
 unobserved by M. Trefoil, who, having now recovered from 
 his first bewilderment of surprise, and having given a definite 
 and practical form to Meredith's involuntary acknowledg 
 ment, proceeded to indulge in the characteristic exultations 
 and hopes to which the occasion gave rise. 
 
 Good, easy, obtuse soul ! He little suspected that the 
 flattering protest with which he hesitated not to assure his
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 113 
 
 guest, that he was the man of all the world whom he would 
 have chosen for a son-in-law, caused the aspirant for this near 
 relationship to wince more painfully than he would have 
 done at the closest inquisition of his character and claims. 
 The elated parent could not have imagined that when, with 
 artless garrulity, he indulged fond visions of the future, 
 the fastidious Englishman shrunk from them as uncalled 
 for and premature. The simple pleasure-schemer failed 
 to observe that, at his jocular allusion to the day when the 
 village bells should ring a louder and a merrier peal in 
 honor of the handsome Frank and his Lebanon bride, the 
 features of the handsome Frank were crossed by a nervous 
 thrill, as if the merry bells had suddenly rung out a discord. 
 
 Yet so it was. For strangely enough, the deepest emo 
 tion Meredith had ever known an emotion the depth of 
 which he himself had not yet fathomed was so overlaid 
 with habitual and even morbid sensitiveness, that when a 
 less haughty and fastidious nature would have glowed tri 
 umphantly, he only felt irritated, trifled with, and repelled. 
 
 Meredith was not a vain man. Half an hour before, he 
 would have drawn encouragement from the belief that any 
 person living entertained of him so high an opinion as 
 Havilah's father hesitated not to express. He was not a 
 sanguine man. In the deeper crises of his life, he had ever 
 been one who apprehended failure rather than success ; but 
 now the proud, dreamy, poetic heart, which had secretly in 
 voked hope to its aid, chafed under and well-nigh disclaimed 
 the prompt paternal acceptance, which robbed him even of 
 the pleasures of pursuit ; and if anything could have taught 
 him to undervalue the object for which he was striving, it 
 was the undisguised readiness with which the prize was 
 stripped of its romance, and thrust upon him almost before 
 he could be said to have sought it. 
 
 B
 
 114 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 So while the light-hearted manufacturer rattled carelessly 
 on, his graver companion stood by him in dignified silence, 
 too honest to feign sympathy in M. Trefoil's excessive exul 
 tation, too proudly courteous to interrupt him by look or 
 gesture, or venture to set limits to the schemes which had 
 sprung from the confessions of an unguarded moment. 
 
 But our hero's natural impetuosity was not proof against 
 the imperturbable coolness with which M. Trefoil presumed 
 to refer the young couple's fate to arbitration ; and this point 
 being once more emphatically alluded to, the restraint which 
 Meredith had imposed upon himself suddenly gave way, and 
 he broke forth in an earnest and even vehement expostula 
 tion, inveighing against further suspense in a matter which 
 had gone so far, protesting against submitting his destiny to 
 any one save Havilah herself, and claiming the right to plead 
 his own cause. 
 
 " There is no occasion for suspense at all," responded M. 
 Trefoil, with a persistency none the less provoking because 
 it was wholly compounded of good humor ; " I will speak to 
 lanthe this very day, and as to pleading your own cause," 
 he continued in a persuasive tone, " you have had opportu 
 nity enough, for this month past, and shall have again." 
 
 He would have pursued his argument, but Meredith inter 
 rupted him, and with a gesture of intense irritation ex 
 claimed : " You acknowledge that I have had every oppor 
 tunity ; you must also acknowledge, that I have honorably 
 forborne to make use of it. Why not, then, trust to my dis 
 cretion for the future ? I hate suspense, to be sure, but this 
 haste, this interference is is " He stammered a little, 
 turned very red, then added abruptly, "To tell the truth, 
 I was not prepared for it, I have been accustomed to rule 
 my OAvn actions." 
 
 He had forgotten himself, and gone too far. The man of
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 115 
 
 dull perceptions was enlightened, the good-natured man 
 was wounded. His injured feelings were betrayed in the 
 apologetic yet self-respectful modesty with which he instant 
 ly responded in the words : " I am sorry I have seemed in 
 haste, Mr. Meredith. I assure you I am in no haste to part 
 with my child. Perhaps you wish to retract. In that case 
 we will consider the past conversation unsaid." 
 
 It was now Meredith's turn to be mortified and abashed. 
 He was a gentleman, the descendant of a long line of gen 
 tlemen ; he began to fear he was deporting himself like a 
 trifler and a clown. He lost no time, therefore, in renewing 
 his warm protestations and hopes. The injured father was 
 reassured by the unmistakable earnestness with which the 
 young man disclaimed any hesitation in his choice or the 
 pursuit of its object ; and this little misunderstanding re 
 sulted, as such contre-temps not unfrequently do, in the most 
 amiable and most yielding of the parties carrying his point. 
 
 For, as if to atone for his doubts, M. Trefoil's next move 
 ment was to lay his hand affectionately on Meredith's shoul 
 der, accompanying the action with the words, " Forgive me, 
 my dear friend; I did not mean to wrong you, it was only 
 a father's sensitive pride. You own that I have reason to 
 be proud of my child ; and as to the interference, since 
 you term it such, I wish only to give your suit the sanction 
 of our approval. Havilah is a dutiful girl, and habituated 
 to Eastern customs. So let her mother have the first word. 
 I do not ask it for myself," he continued, persuasively, " only 
 for lanthe's sake. Hark, that is little Geita's voice, calling 
 to let me know that the procession is moving." Then, as if 
 taking it for granted that a full submission to his wishes had 
 been conceded, he added, " I will whisper a word in lanthe's 
 ear before I go to meet the villagers. Remember, my good 
 fellow, until you hear from me again, not a word to the
 
 116 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 child ; " and M. Trefoil cordially shook Meredith's half- 
 reluctant hand, and pressing his own finger meaningly to his 
 lip?, as if to enforce silence, hastened down the staircase. 
 
 Meredith turned on his heel, folded his arras, drew his 
 hat over his brow, and commenced walking rapidly up and 
 doAvn the terrace. His countenance was far from that of a 
 favored suitor, furnished with full credentials by the father 
 of his mistress. Aggrieved, dissatisfied, indignant, he felt 
 himself robbed of his prerogative, both as an Englishman 
 and a lover. The hot blood mounted to his temples as he 
 contemplated the sacred, and until now well-guarded, secret 
 of his passion for the mountain-girl, held up to the light of 
 common day to be weighed, discussed, and criticised ; his 
 pride was stung to the quick by the thought that he had 
 involuntarily suffered himself to become a puppet in a love 
 drama ; and the heart which had been all aglow with fervor 
 while in pursuit of his fairy bride, was chilled by the sus 
 picion that the hand so confidently promised him might be 
 placed in his, not by choice, but by the fiat of a family 
 council. 
 
 Let it be said, in justice to the candor of Meredith's dis 
 position, that his vague sense of injury was in no degree 
 aggravated by his imagining himself the dupe or tool of 
 any preconcerted matrimonial stratagem. He did not for a 
 moment doubt the single-mindedness of his honest host. 
 The good man's simplicity might even have been a source 
 of amusement to the young Englishman, had it been exer 
 cised in any other matter than one which affected his own 
 dearest interests. 
 
 Still, despite his generosity, and he was generous to a 
 fault, it cannot be denied that, as he paced restlessly up 
 and down the narrow terrace, his thoughts insensibly wan 
 dered to those broad acres, that princely rent-roll, destined
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 117 
 
 one day to become his own. This fair heritage was no secret 
 to M. Trefoil. Meredith knew the weight it had exercised 
 in many a matrimonial scheme vainly projected for him 
 heretofore. Could he be sure that in the present instance 
 it would not bias the inclinations of an ambitious parent, 
 possibly those of his child ? 
 
 With inward misgivings the young man for the first time 
 strove to picture the mountain-girl amid the scenes of his 
 English home. Would the gay wild-flower of the Lebanon 
 bear transplanting to stern British soil? Might not the 
 bright bird of the Orient pine amid the stately decorum of 
 an old, baronial hall? 
 
 Before him, in this moment of self-questioning, rose the 
 image of his dignified, aristocratic father. He had ever 
 been lenient towards the son whose contradictory tastes had 
 thus far disappointed him at every step. But would he be 
 likely to smile approval on the foreign alliance which he 
 would naturally deem the crowning and least pardonable 
 eccentricity of all? 
 
 With a deeper prophetic instinct still, Meredith called to 
 mind his stately sister, proud as himself, and far more con 
 ventional. Would not her cold and unsisterly greeting send 
 a chill to the heart of her brother's sunny bride ? 
 
 Unwelcome visions were they all, the offspring of an 
 imagination heated and ruffled by the events of the morn 
 ing. Still, for the moment they exercised their sway, and 
 it was with a self-accusing, half-repentant pang, rather than 
 with an ecstatic hope, that Meredith dreamed himself the 
 successful suitor of Havilah. 
 
 Fie on him for a presumptuous, cold-hearted lover ! Yet 
 stay ! Let us remember, ere we condemn him, that lovers 
 are but men. Let us have patience too. These prudential 
 considerations float only on the surface. We have not yet
 
 118 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 probed the depths of his secret heart. We do not know 
 the true man. He does not yet know himself. 
 
 But hark ! what sound is that which breaks in upon his 
 meditation, checks his restless step, and transfixes him at the 
 extremity of the parapet ? It is merely the harsh music of 
 a drum and fife, accompanied by the shouts of a village 
 crowd. What sight is it which causes a sudden kindling in 
 his clear blue eye, and banishes from his mind every other 
 object save that to which he directs his straining vision ? It 
 is simply the reflection of the sunlight on the gold tassels of 
 a little Greek cap ; it is nothing but the flutter of a muslin 
 robe, which vanished from the garden a half-hour ago, to re 
 appear in the foreground of the nuptial procession now wind 
 ing slowly up the steep bridle-path which skirts the mulberry 
 grove. There is a moment's struggle between pride and 
 passion ; for a moment the aristocrat and the lover are at 
 war ; for a moment the indignant Englishman leans moodily 
 over the parapet, strives to still the beating of his heart, and 
 vows himself an alien to the scene. A moment more, and 
 where are the harassing visions which so lately disturbed 
 his mind ? They have melted as the mountain mist flees 
 before the sunshine of morning. Where are his hesitations 
 and his doubts ? Scattered to the ibur winds of heaven. 
 
 Obedient to an impulse stronger than them all, he has 
 bounded down the staircase, crossed the garden, and gained 
 the topmost terrace of the mulberry grove, which commands 
 a prospect of the rocky pathway up which the procession is 
 slowly filing. For an instant they are hid behind a huge 
 boulder which causes an abrupt angle in the narrow pass, 
 then suddenly they emerge into view, led by M. Trefoil and 
 his daughter, who are closely followed by the gay and noisy 
 train of villagers. In the midst of them walks the bride, 
 modestly bending low her head, which is covered by a long 
 white veil.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 119 
 
 Straightening his tall figure to its full height, Meredith lifts 
 his hat and waves it in the air in token of welcome. The 
 simple peasantry, gratified by so unexpected an act of con 
 descension, sent up a simultaneous shout. Availing himself 
 of the momentary excitement, M. Trefoil adroitly slips his 
 hand from that of his daughter, and with an arch look and 
 an expressive gesture motions to Meredith to take his place. 
 Quick to comprehend and prompt to obey, the young man 
 leaps down the terrace, eager to assume the office of the 
 manufacturer, who, heated and breathless, stations himself 
 on the lower stone of a flight of steps -which leads upward to 
 his own premises ; and here, rejoicing in his little feat of 
 diplomacy, reviews the procession, and salutes each couple 
 as they pass. Havilah, smiling with innocent amusement at 
 the impromptu manner in which M. Trefoil has summoned 
 a substitute and beaten a retreat, places her hand unhesitat 
 ingly and confidingly in that of her father's guest. With 
 throbbing heart he clasps the little hand in his, holds it as 
 firmly as he dares, and, triumphing in the coveted possession, 
 outdoes the gayest of the throng in the elation of spirit with 
 which he conducts his lovely partner, and marshals the 
 peasant band over the heights leading to the village church. 
 
 It is a merry festival. All hearts are light and happy, all 
 faces bright with smiles, all save one, and that one un 
 observed by all. It is the bronzed visage of the Arab boy, 
 who, as the bridal train moves on, slides stealthily down 
 from the boulder whence he has watched the scene, and with 
 scowling brow, clenched fist, and menacing gesture creeps 
 away, with noiseless, cat-like tread, to secure some other van 
 tage-point where unperceived he may play the jealous spy, 
 and whet the growing hatred which he secretly nourishes in 
 his wild and untamed breast.
 
 120 EL FUKEID1S. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EVENING had settled over the little village. The prim 
 itive people, whose festivities, like their labors, subsided 
 at the going down of the sun, had scattered to their several 
 homes, and, weary with merry-making, had sought rest in 
 stillness, if not yet in slumber. Alone on her couch beside 
 the latticed window lay lanthe, listening for the returning 
 footstep of her child. The casement was closed, to exclude 
 the chilly autumn night-air, and a light brazier of coals in 
 the centre of the apartment created an agreeable warmth, 
 and at the same time diffused the soft odor of some fragrant 
 incense, one of those gentle perfumes grateful to Oriental 
 senses. On a bracket, in a remote corner, burned an ala 
 baster lamp ; but the subdued light which it shed was feeble 
 in comparison with that of the clear moonbeams which 
 poured in at the window and illumined the face of the in 
 valid, the pallor of whose features, discerned in this silvery 
 light, was scarcely equalled in whiteness by the snowy 
 ermine which bordered her silken pelisse. 
 
 She had not listened long when a slight figure was re 
 flected on the opposite wall, a bounding step fancied rather 
 than heard, so lightly did it tread the triple-plied carpet, and 
 then, softly sinking on a heap of cushions beside her mother, 
 Havilah put up her rosy mouth for the accustomed kiss. 
 Noiselessly as she had come, her presence seemed to scat 
 ter life and brightness through the room, which before
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 121 
 
 was so utterly, almost oppressively silent. The moonbeams 
 looked less cold as they were reflected on the gold tassels 
 of her cap, and as they brought out in clear radiance the rich 
 embroidery of her jacket. Her dancing step, too, betrayed 
 innocent glee, and the tale which her lips were eager to tell 
 was all written in her eyes. She had passed such a happy 
 day. The sun had shone so brightly, the bride had looked 
 so fair, the bridegroom so gay and proud, the flowers that 
 were scattered over the happy pair at the altar had been 
 so beautiful and sweet, the villagers had seemed so glad ! 
 "With her white arms crossed upon her mother's lap, and 
 her beaming face upturned to the moonlight, Havilah told 
 how opportunely their English friend had joined the bridal 
 escort, and how joyously his voice had rung in the con 
 gratulatory shout. With eager accent she informed her 
 mother of the munificent sum which he had contributed 
 to swell Hendia's slender dowry, exclaiming at the same 
 time, with artless wonder, on the untold riches which their 
 guest must possess, since he could thus generously portion 
 a village bride. "With girlish merriment, she described 
 the scene of wild confusion, at the moment when the young 
 men and maidens, according to custom, showered the wed 
 ded couple with handfuls of corn and raisins, and her un 
 checked laugh rang through the apartment, as she told 
 how Asaad had thrown high into the air the pomegranate, 
 whose possession was believed to impart the marriage con 
 tagion, how the young men had watched for its fall, ambi 
 tious to secure the prize, but how the tall Englishman had 
 outwitted and vanquished them all, by bounding upward to 
 an astonishing height, and catching the precious fruit in his 
 hand before it had touched the ground. 
 
 lanthe smiled at the significant character of this wonder 
 ful feat on the part of the Englishman, smoothed back her 
 6
 
 122 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 daughter's hair, studied her artless features attentively for 
 a moment, then said : " Some bright day will dawn erelong, 
 when the bridegroom will come hither to seek a bride; 
 whose skilful fingers shall we then employ to wreathe a 
 nuptial chaplet for my little Havilah ? " 
 
 The little Havilah playfully shook her head, as if she 
 already felt the weight of the garland, and sought to dis 
 place it from her brow, at the same time saying, with a 
 sweet mingling of archness and filial devotion, " No, no, the 
 mountain bird will not leave its mother's nest to fly away 
 with a stranger." 
 
 " But the mother must forsake her fledgling," said lanthe, 
 gravely and solemnly. " Her wings are spread already, and 
 her spirit soon must soar. The eagle which has seen her 
 young happy with its mate looks not back, as she flies 
 upward to the sun." 
 
 " When God takes mothers," said Havilah, in a whisper, 
 her eyes at the same time filling with tears, " himself only 
 can fill their place." 
 
 " True, my child," rejoined her mother, tenderly ; " but 
 God has his instruments of mercy ; he sends in due season 
 his messengers of love, to bind up the wounds of his little 
 ones. Yes, Havilah," she added, cautiously scanning the 
 girl's face as she spoke, " there may be a friend, ay, an 
 earthly friend, closer to one's heart than a mother." 
 
 " No, never ! never ! " exclaimed Havilah, vehemently, 
 clasping her arms round her mother, and hiding her head 
 in her bosom. 
 
 " Did not Hendia leave the good Tyiby with smiles," 
 questioned lanthe, " and go joyously to the home of 
 Asaad ? And will not my daughter, too, smile through 
 her tears on the bridal-day that gives her a stronger arm 
 to lean on than that of her invalid mother ? "
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 123 
 
 " Does Mitera indeed talk to me of a husband ? " cried 
 Havilah, lifting up to the light a face which suddenly be 
 came suffused with crimson, as she encountered the scruti 
 nizing gaze which lanthe fixed upon her. 
 
 " When lovers plead, mothers cannot be silent," said 
 lanthe, meaningly ; " and he that comes in honor to lay a 
 brave heart at a young girl's feet deserves an advocate and 
 a hearing." 
 
 " Who comes ? what heart ? Ah, Mitera is jesting with 
 her child," said Havilah, a coy, tremulous smile creeping 
 over her features. 
 
 " Mitera speaks truth ; and she must no longer call herself 
 a child, whom the noble Englishman seeks to make his wife," 
 said lanthe, a certain degree of maternal pride betraying 
 itself in the tone with which she announced a worthy suitor, 
 and asserted her daughter's new dignity of womanhood. 
 
 She was startled at the effect of her words. The head 
 just now resting passively on her breast was raised with 
 an almost convulsive movement, the slight form, trembling 
 with agitation, slid from the arms which enfolded it, and 
 the face in which youthful joy had so lately been reflected 
 wore a mingled expression of dread and pain, as Havilah, 
 kneeling beside lanthe's couch, clasped her hands fervently 
 together, and exclaimed, " What I ! Havilah ! that proud 
 stranger's wife? No, no, my mother, never!" 
 
 " Hush, hush, my child ! the guest of many weeks must 
 not be termed a stranger ; and if he is proud, how much 
 prouder may my mountain girl be to have won his love." 
 
 " He is a stranger to my heart," was the prompt reply. 
 " How, then, can I have won his love ? Mitera is de 
 ceived." 
 
 " Mitera is not deceived," said lanthe, speaking with grave 
 emphasis. " Mr. Meredith loves my Havilah, and, like a
 
 124 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 noble suitor as he is, has wooed her fairly at her father's 
 hands. It does not become my daughter to answer rashly, 
 or repulse with childish haste the honorable man who has 
 the approval of both her parents to enforce his claims." 
 
 The feverish glow subsided on Havilah's face, the impet 
 uous expression was subdued to one of meek humility at 
 this implied rebuke, and she listened in deferential silence 
 while her mother continued, accompanying her words with 
 graceful Oriental gesture : " My Havilah is a mountain sap 
 ling, swayed by every breeze," and lanthe's thin white 
 hand, as she spoke, was waved rapidly to and fro ; " the 
 Englishman is the granite rock, which stems the dashing 
 torrent," and here the mother gave emphasis to her words 
 by laying her hand firmly and impressively on the young 
 girl's shoulder. " Were it not maidenly, were it not wise, 
 that the slight thing of a summer's growth should beware 
 how she refuse to plant the roots of her young life on so 
 grand, so sure a foundation ? " 
 
 " The Englishman is manly, generous, and brave," said 
 Havilah, musingly. 
 
 " He comes of a lordly race," said lanthe, eagerly catch 
 ing up and seconding her daughter's commendatory words; 
 for the mother's heart, her hopes, her wishes, were all with 
 Meredith. " I have heard it said, that nature boasts no 
 nobler sons than the men of his British isle, and he de 
 grades not his ancestral stock." 
 
 " He is rich, and learned, and wise," continued Havilah, 
 in a sort of pensive soliloquy, speaking in a low minor key, 
 which gave a touching plaintiveness to her words. " He is 
 respectful to the old, and bountiful to the poor, and gentle to 
 the mountain-girl, who would gladly repay his kindness, but 
 cannot." 
 
 " Cannot, Havilah ? Does my daughter count up her
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 125 
 
 lover's virtues, and sound his praises, and acknowledge the 
 worth of his heart, then thoughtlessly pierce it with an 
 arrow." 
 
 " Havilah sighs over his virtues," was the grieved reply ; 
 " she praises him through grateful tears ; and if an arrow of 
 her sending wounds his heart, it will rebound and strike her 
 own." 
 
 Her eye was moist, her voice unsteady with emotion, ere 
 she finished speaking. lanthe was puzzled, doubtful. 
 
 " Alas, my daughter ! " she murmured. " "Why then this 
 needless pain ? Why cannot you return the Englishman's 
 love, and both be blest ? " 
 
 " My mother," said Havilah, with a solemn earnestness, 
 which gave dignity to her youthful features, " do you re 
 member the steep, flowery banks of the Baruk stream, 
 which rushes down our Lebanon cliffs, and pierces through 
 the heart of the distant valley, till it loses itself in the wild 
 Leontes ? Do you remember how, in long parallel lines, 
 the opposite shores of the narrow glen go winding together 
 through the mountain pass, ever near, yet ever parted, 
 sometimes almost meeting above the dividing torrent, yet 
 never melting into one ? " 
 
 " I remember them well, my child ; what then ? " 
 
 " Like the deep ravine, the cold impassable gulf which 
 separates the twin banks of the Baruk, is the deep, dark bar 
 rier which sunders my heart from the Englishman's." 
 
 " You dream, my child," exclaimed lanthe, rising upon 
 one elbow, and gazing steadily at Havilah. "What possible 
 barrier can exist between the daughter of Augustine Trefoil 
 and his familiar and honored guest? Either your fancy 
 wanders, Havilah, or you wrong the Englishman." 
 
 As lanthe spoke, Havilah had risen from her kneeling 
 attitude, and with a slow, almost majestic movement, quite
 
 126 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 unlike her usual rapid motions, she straightened her slight 
 figure to its full height, threw back her head, so that her 
 whole face was lit up by the moonlight, and, with the air of 
 an inspired prophetess, said fervently : " I wrong him not, 
 for I judge him not; but his pathway and mine lie apart. 
 His God is here," and she laid her forefinger on her fore 
 head ; " mine, here," and she clasped her hands upon her 
 heart. " I might scatter his gold with lavish hand, might 
 strain my mind to comprehend his mental height, my earth 
 ly heart might glory in his fame, but he could never be the 
 husband of my soul." 
 
 lanthe was awed, was overwhelmed, and could only ejacu 
 late, " My child ! my little one ! whence so much foresight, 
 so much knowledge ? Who has taught you this ? " 
 
 " A voice that whispers to me, here," answered Havilah, 
 pressing her clasped hands, more fervently still, upon her 
 heart. " It tells me that, like the Baruk banks, the English 
 man and his Lebanon bride might dwell beside one another 
 in outward harmony ; we might share earth's sunshine and 
 showers ; the flowers on our bosoms might mingle their fra 
 grance; here and there, the surface of our lives might blend; 
 strangers might approach the brink, and have no suspicion 
 of the disturbing current between ; but from the fountain 
 whence our race began down to the eternal ocean at its 
 close, the cold stream, the dark gulf, would divide us still." 
 
 The fire of an earnest nature, the solemn conviction of a 
 truth, gave warmth to Havilah's tone and elevation to her 
 manner, as she uttered these words ; but, as if in the pause 
 which ensued she recognized her unwonted temerity of 
 speech, she suffered her arms to droop at her sides, cast 
 down her eyes, on whose fringes the great tears were trem 
 bling, and stood before her mother in all the humble docility 
 of childhood. 
 
 lanthe leaned back upon her pillows, gazed absently up-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 127 
 
 ward at the ceiling, and for a time solemn silence between 
 the two continued unbroken. Well might the mother pause 
 awhile to muse on the revelation made to her in her child. 
 Could this be she whose infantine graces had at once re 
 joiced the heart, and caused it to tremble at her youth and 
 inexperience ? Could this be she, whom but a moment be 
 fore her anxious parent had thought it fitting to remind of 
 her ripening womanhood ? Could it be, indeed, that while 
 the aged, the prudent, and the wise had been deceived by 
 an exterior conformity to truth, on the part of their foreign 
 guest, this girl of seventeen had, by the unerring instinct of 
 her guileless soul, read deeper into the mysteries of his na 
 ture, measured him by a loftier standard, and now, rising 
 superior to every timid doubt, and scorning every earth- 
 born ambition, gave full and fearless utterance to the noblest 
 convictions of her being? 
 
 That Havilah's words fell as from prophetic lips was 
 evident from the fact that they carried instant assurance to 
 the heart of lanthe, leaving her neither the power nor the 
 will to gainsay them. It was not without a pang, however, 
 that she yielded to the weight of a convincing truth, and 
 saw in it the destruction of her cherished hopes. Most 
 bitterly did the sense of disappointment force itself upon 
 her, as, after a few moments of self-communing, she turned 
 her mild eyes mournfully towards Havilah, and beheld her, 
 no longer nerved by the momentary inspiration which had 
 given her a dignity beyond her years, but standing in that 
 attitude of mute and childlike dependence and trust habitual 
 to her when waiting on her parent's words. All the mother's 
 tender concern and solicitude were aroused, as she gazed on 
 the girl's youthful, loving, confiding face. All the events of 
 lanthe's own wedded experience passed before her in quick 
 review. The fruitless wanderings, the long years of poverty, 
 the untold privations, the mental anxiety, the broken health,
 
 128 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 in a word, all the reverses of fortune which she too well 
 knew had been due to the recklessness and improvidence of 
 him who must soon be left the widowed parent and sole 
 guardian of Havilah. In the protection and love of their 
 English guest, the helpless, wasting invalid had hailed a 
 shield for her husband against the ills of fortune, and a 
 refuge from every earthly exposure which might threaten 
 her innocent child. lanthe was a devout and humble Chris 
 tian ; but the deep yearnings of her human heart prevailed, 
 and for a moment the wife and mother triumphed over the 
 saint, and she exclaimed, in a tone of desperate and final 
 appeal: "If the voice in your heart speaks truth, Havilah, 
 God and nature forbid the banns. But, my precious 
 one ! by all the love and duty you owe your mother, do not 
 listen to any false or suspicious whisper which bids you 
 spurn the rich offering laid at your feet this day. England 
 is a Christian land, her sons know no other faith ; we have 
 never witnessed any meanness or deceit in our guest; he 
 bears himself generously and nobly towards all. M. La- 
 pierre trusts him, so does your father; why should Havi 
 lah, the youngest among us, be the first, the only one, to 
 doubt?" 
 
 " He is true and loyal to men," said Havilah ; " would 
 that he were so to God ! " 
 
 " God's holy word is ever in his hand," rejoined lanthe, 
 " and nature is to him an open book." 
 
 " He has a scholar's cold faith in Scripture," said Havi 
 lah, " and an artist's worship of beauty, and a poet's dream 
 of truth ; but who can trust the stream which has no living 
 fountain, the fruit which is hollow at the core, the spirit 
 which is not linked to the Highest? To the unbelieving 
 soul, beauty wears a taint, knowledge is but ignorance, truth 
 a lie ; and what can he know of love, who has never drunk 
 from its sacred spring?"
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 129 
 
 "But he loves you, Havilah," said her mother, half 
 reproachfully. 
 
 "O, love is a strange mystery of the soul," exclaimed 
 Havilah ; " he loves, perhaps, as he can love, as the 
 breeze loves the flower, as the bird loves the sun ; but not 
 as the holy ones love in heaven or on earth. O my mother ! 
 I know his genius, admire his gifts, am grateful for his love ; 
 but my spirit testifies not with his, and for him, alas ! my 
 heart is cold." 
 
 " I must leave you alone then, my darling," said lanthe, 
 mournfully. " I had trusted (O how vain are our earthly 
 trusts !) that this wealthy, this learned, this influential stran 
 ger in El Fureidis was the appointed instrument of Heaven 
 to enrich, to elevate, to protect my child. And must I de 
 part and leave her alone, alone to bear a mother's loss, 
 alone to strengthen her bereaved father, and to soothe his 
 grief?" 
 
 " No, not alone," responded Havilah, speaking not in a 
 tone of asseveration, but in that spirit of petition and en 
 treaty which rendered each utterance a prayer. " The 
 Englishman is rich, but He who cares for the lily and the 
 sparrow will suffer none of his children to want ; the Eng 
 lishman has a mind which excites a simple girl to wonder 
 and to awe, but the wisdom of this world is but folly com 
 pared with that great fountain of knowledge at which every 
 child may drink ; the Englishman may boast of power and 
 of high descent, but He in whom I put my trust is the King 
 of kings." 
 
 lanthe's heart was calmed, fortified, subdued, as she read 
 in Havilah's face the evidence of a soul strong in the Lord's 
 own might ; and, rising from the couch, she laid her hand in 
 solemn blessing on the young girl's head, saying : " It is 
 enough, I am satisfied; the Englishman's suit shall be 
 6* i
 
 130 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 named no more. I would have yielded my child to the pro 
 tection of a human arm. Shall I doubt the arm of the 
 Lord?" 
 
 A long embrace succeeded, and a tender good-night ; then, 
 leaving her mother to solitude and rest, Havilah ran to her 
 own apartment, threw herself on her cushioned divan, and, 
 the unnatural calmness she had hitherto maintained giving 
 way, now that all occasion for self-restraint was passed, she 
 indulged in a long fit of weeping. Not that any secret sen 
 timent of partiality for Meredith warred with her sense of 
 duty, for she had spoken the simple truth in the interview 
 with her mother ; but all "the sympathies of her susceptible 
 nature were aroused, and, giving way to a flood of sorrowful 
 emotion, she wept for her parents' disappointment, wept at 
 her own seeming ingratitude, wept more bitterly than all for 
 the grief, the mortification, of him concerning whom she had 
 divined the truth, that for this, as for all the trials of life, he 
 knew no antidote or consolation save a fatalist's philosophy 
 and a stoic's pride. 
 
 lanthe, meanwhile, the conflict in her spirit passed, lay on 
 her couch, calm, prayerful, and at peace. She was joined 
 erelong by M. Lapierre, who, in his double capacity of med 
 ical and spiritual adviser, seldom failed to visit the invalid 
 at evening. To the venerable pastor she unburdened her 
 heart ; and had one painful doubt, one lingering regret, still 
 disturbed the serene submission of her soul, it would have 
 been forever dispelled by the verdict of the holy man, who 
 listened attentively to her narrative, with the air of one to 
 whom a weighty question is for the first time presented, 
 gazed thoughtfully on the floor awhile, then, lifting his un- 
 dimmed eyes to the mother's face, gave solemn confirmation 
 to Havilah's decision, by atfirming, in words from which, brief 
 as they were, there could be no appeal, " lanthe, the child 
 is right."
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE fickleness of the human mind, its susceptibility to 
 outward and accidental impressions, is never more fully 
 demonstrated than during a period of suspense. We have 
 seen how Meredith's shy and sensitive distrust in the merits 
 of his suit had given place to an unwarrantable confidence ; 
 how this blind confidence had in its turn startled him into a 
 nervous and shrinking dread of his own success ; and how 
 both these emotions had been suddenly dispelled by the mag 
 ical influence of Havilah's presence and smiles. Not less 
 contradictory was the mental state of the ringleader of nup 
 tial festivities in El Fureidis, and that of the reserved and 
 solitary man who sat in his room at nightfall, musing on the 
 events of the day. The one was roused, exhilarated, trans 
 ported beyond himself by the intoxication of the scene and 
 hour. In the full enjoyment of the society which he most 
 craved, privileged beyond others, and unconscious of a rival, 
 he had forgotten the past and the future in the certainty of 
 present rapture. 
 
 It was but a natural reaction, which, when the day was 
 done, and the festive drama ended, left him, who never in 
 his life before had played a part on such a stage, oppressed 
 with loneliness, despondency, and that mortifying suspicion 
 of his own unbecoming levity, which is sure to take posses 
 sion of the proud and serious man who has committed him 
 self to a full participation in any extravagant show of mirth 
 and gayety.
 
 132 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 Moreover, each moment that he had continued in the 
 companionship of Havilah had secured the postponement 
 of that unwelcome crisis, that formal and delegated procla 
 mation of his hopes, to which he had been involuntarily hur 
 ried by M. Trefoil. Now Meredith could not but feel a 
 pang of regret and uneasiness at the thought that he had 
 for the last time secretly nursed his passion for the beauti 
 ful girl, and that when they met again he must perforce 
 present himself before her in the light of an acknowledged 
 lover. 
 
 This idea acted as anything but a sedative after the 
 excitements and fatigues of the day. The young man's 
 blood, too, was heated by exercise and exposure to the 
 Syrian sun, and it was in vain that he struggled with the 
 restlessness which agitated him. Had he been a sentimen 
 tal boy, he might have cheated time by wandering forth in 
 the moonlight, and watching the lamp which flickered in his 
 beloved one's window. But Meredith was a man of thirty, 
 an Englishman too, and an aristocrat ; and the romance 
 of his nature, deep as it was, lay not upon the surface. 
 If he could not be calm, he could at least resolve to be 
 so; if he could not be patient, he could conduct himself 
 as if he were. 
 
 He assumed a comfortable position, therefore, on his di 
 van, called for his narghileh, puffed regularly at it, and 
 watched the curling volumes of smoke as they floated 
 upward in the moonlight, with as much intensity as if these 
 mimic clouds were slowly unrolling scrolls, on which were 
 written the successive pages of his future destiny. This 
 endeavor to cheat himself into composure was so successful, 
 that, the pipe-tube resting idly in his hand for a moment, 
 the servant who came to bring him coffee stepped noise 
 lessly, believing him to be making kef, to have reached
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 133 
 
 indeed the ultimate stage in that process which signifies, in 
 Syrian parlance, the luxury of repose. Even the lynx-eyed 
 Abdoul, who presented himself to report concerning the wel 
 fare of the Arab horses, still under his charge, paused at 
 the open alcove, and, his penetration for once at fault, was 
 deceived by his master's affectation of ease, and, with an 
 Oriental's deference for slumber, left his errand unfulfilled, 
 and crept away as stealthily as he had come. 
 
 But though the feint might impose upon others, it could 
 not long beguile its object, or soothe him to self-oblivion ; 
 and the jealous malice of Abdoul would have been gratified, 
 could he have seen the discontented and irritable haste with 
 which, the moment that he was freed from the boy's es 
 pionage, Meredith pushed his narghileh-stand impatiently 
 from him, and, rising abruptly from the divan, paced his 
 room with folded arms and rapid step, a proceeding 
 which, during the remaining hours of the night, alternated 
 with intervals of forced tranquillity and unrefreshing rest. 
 
 Towards morning a new resolution seized him, and the gray 
 dawn was but just tinging the highest cliffs of the Lebanon, 
 when, donning his felt hat and shooting-jacket, and flinging 
 his gun over his shoulder, he sallied forth in search of 
 Abdoul, whom he proposed to make his companion on a 
 hunting excursion among the mountains. It was no difficult 
 matter to discover the boy, whose invariable lodging was a 
 little hut, a mere recess in the more spacious apartment 
 allotted to his own and Meredith's horses. A word, too, was 
 sufficient to rouse him from his light sleep, and the quick 
 shake which he gave his lithe limbs and flowing drapery, 
 with the hasty settling of his white turban, was the only 
 adjustment which his toilette demanded; for the Arab's 
 striped abaya is his nightly coverlid, and he may almost be 
 said to sleep with lance in rest. It was a more serious un-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 dertaking, however, to prepare the horses for duty, to 
 groom them with that nicety of skill which makes the coat of 
 the desert courser rival a polished mirror, to caparison the 
 animals with their elaborate housings, to hang around their 
 necks the game-bags, powder-flasks, and numerous other 
 requisites of a shooting-excursion, no one of which was for 
 gotten by the thoughtful and practised Abdoul. All these 
 were cares which would not admit of haste ; and the imper 
 turbable gravity of the youth's demeanor could not be dis 
 turbed nor his deliberate movements quickened by the impa 
 tience of Meredith, who, having loosened and fed the dogs, 
 which were kennelled near by, was compelled to await the 
 pleasure and convenience of his princely, and in some re 
 spects arbitrary servitor. 
 
 The sun had just reached the snowy crests of the moun 
 tains, as the two huntsmen left the village behind them and 
 wound down the precipitous bridle-path that led through the 
 adjacent valley, and thence to the more densely wooded 
 cliffs beyond. Morning had illumined the heights of the 
 Lebanon, which glittered like hoar-frost ; but the mantle of 
 night yet rested on her valleys, and each deep ravine was 
 curtained with a long veil of mist. High up in the blue 
 ether the lark was singing a melodious song ; far down 
 might be dimly discerned the majestic eagle or the greedy 
 vulture, hovering expectantly along the filmy wreaths of fog, 
 which were soon destined to disperse and disclose whatever 
 prey or carrion might be concealed in the rocky depths 
 below. 
 
 Every tree and shrub glittered with dew, every blossom 
 and vine distilled fragrance, and the breeze, which came 
 laden with sweets, was at the same time so fresh and health- 
 giving as to carry \vith it an invigorating glow, a fuller sense 
 of vitality. Meredith could not be insensible to the inspir-
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 135 
 
 ing freshness of nature. The fever which had marked his 
 night vigils subsided as the cool air played about his tem 
 ples and the refreshing influence of morning stole in upon 
 his spirit. Life, the fresh life of the woods and glens, was 
 everywhere astir. The sound of the horses' feet started out 
 whole coveys of red-legged partridges ; the quail was heard 
 whirring up from the thick underwood which lined the path 
 way ; flocks of pigeons were cooing amid the branches of 
 the distant fir-trees, and now and then a nimble hare darted 
 before the eyes of the huntsmen. 
 
 The American Indian is not more quickly fired by the 
 detection of an enemy's trail than the aristocratic young 
 Englishman by the scent of game. Thus, preoccupied as 
 he was, the force of habit and instinct had somewhat the 
 effect of sportsman-like zeal, and, half unconsciously, Mere 
 dith reined in his horse and poised his musket with artistic 
 precision. The mental agitation under which he labored, 
 however, betrayed itself in the fact, that in this instance our 
 hitherto unfailing marksman missed his aim, disgraced a 
 pedigree of noble sportsmen, and afforded a momentary tri 
 umph to Abdoul, who was the first to bring down his bird. 
 The boy now unhooded a beautiful white falcon, which he 
 held by the talons, displayed to it the first-fruits of his skill, 
 then flung this new partner of the chase high into the air. 
 The well-trained hawk fluttered a moment as if bewildered, 
 then spread its wings, and soared upward until only the 
 keenest eye could follow its flight, and until the musical 
 sound of the silver bells attached to its feet was lost to the 
 ear. Not long^did it continue aloft. Its piercing vision 
 had marked its prey; and now, with lightning plunge, 
 it shot downwards from its airy point of observation, and 
 swooped into the depths of the valley, from which the mist 
 had by this time dispersed. An interval of considerable
 
 136 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 duration ensued, the expectant silence being only interrupted 
 by the shrill, peculiar whistle with which Abdoul gave his 
 signals and strove to recall the bird. At length, the sudden 
 flapping of wings proclaimed its faithful return, and the next 
 moment it came floating up the side of the precipice, and 
 laid a plump partridge at its master's feet. Its services were 
 promptly repaid by caresses, by a jargon of compliments ut 
 tered in the vocabulary known only to the falconer and his 
 hawk, and still more substantially by the panting bird's being 
 suffered to slake its thirst with the warm blood of its victim. 
 
 Meredith meanwhile had watched the successful chase 
 and victory with half-absent interest, peering after the falcon 
 with persevering steadiness, and admiring the perfection of 
 its training. Perhaps there mingled with his satisfaction in 
 this peculiarly Oriental sport a certain sense of relief at the 
 excuse it afforded him for his personal indifference to taking 
 part in the day's pastime. At all events, he suffered the 
 rein to rest loosely on his horse's neck, and, scarcely taking 
 the trouble to reload his gun, abandoned the field of adven 
 ture to the boy and his favorite, and gave himself idly to 
 observation of the chase. 
 
 Again and yet again the winged emissary was despatched 
 on its unfailing errand. The game-bag was thus filling rap 
 idly ; but the exhausted falcon occasionally demanded rest, 
 and at frequent intervals the cautious Abdoul replaced its 
 hood, and compelled it to repose against his breast, its talons 
 firmly grasped in his small, wiry hand. During these periods 
 Meredith, impatient of inaction, urged his horse over moun 
 tain and through valley, and ere noon had put several hours 
 of travel between himself and El Fureidis. The road was 
 one of those intricate bridle-paths known only to expert and 
 adventurous rovers like Abdoul, and wholly unfamiliar to 
 Meredith. It was with excited surprise, therefore, that, hav-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 137 
 
 ing towards midday gained a summit which commanded a 
 wide prospect, he beheld bursting upon his view a stately 
 palace of Moorish architecture, with slender pillars extend 
 ing from roof to ceiling, and surrounded by numerous flat- 
 roofed buildings, and long lines of light arcades. 
 
 The gigantic structure, with its attendant courts, complete 
 ly covered an elevated platform, beyond which stretched a 
 fertile valley, lying between mountains whose sides were 
 festooned with the olive, the mulberry, and the vine, and 
 whose distant opening disclosed the blue sea-line of the 
 Mediterranean. Checking his horse, Meredith turned in 
 amazement towards Abdoul, seeking enlightenment concern 
 ing this fantastic castle, which had burst upon them as the 
 palace of the Genii dawns upon the traveller of the fairy 
 tale. 
 
 " It is Eptedeen," responded Abdoul, his dark face lit up 
 with a glow of pride, as he thus introduced to Meredith the 
 residence of the chief Emir of Lebanon,* and the beautiful 
 and picturesque country beyond. " The wide portal stands 
 open night and day," continued the youth ; " the Frank and 
 the Arab are both sure of a welcome. Shall we go thither 
 to rest our horses, and smoke a pipe beside the fountain of 
 the inner court, beneath the pomegranate shade ? " 
 
 Meredith hesitated ; the distance was considerable, but the 
 Emir's palace was well worth visiting, and he had, moreover, 
 an urgent motive for prolonging his excursion until night 
 fall. He therefore answered by an affirmative nod, and, 
 
 * The author has here taken a slight liberty with facts, the court resi 
 dence of the Druse Emir of the Lebanon being now held at the Muktarah, 
 two hours distant from Eptedeen. The latter palace, which was the favor 
 ite residence of the famous Sheik Beshir Shehaab, has suffered from the 
 effects of time and abuse, and serves at present as a barrack for Turkish 
 soldiery.
 
 J38 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 setting spurs to their horses, they both plunged down the 
 steep path, leading into one of those ravines which here, as 
 everywhere among the mountains, intercepted the approach 
 to a spot apparently near at hand. 
 
 As the sure-footed steeds strained up the opposite side of 
 the abyss, affording their riders a glimpse of the outer courts 
 of the palace, it became evident that their arrival was well 
 timed, as the occasion chanced to be a holiday, or court re 
 ception of the Emir, and could not fail to furnish a fund of 
 interest and novelty to the Englishman. 
 
 Congregated in the court-yard were representatives of all 
 the mountain tribes, Druses, Maronites, Greeks, Armenians, 
 and Metuales, whose variegated costumes and characteristic 
 attributes imparted a picturesque animation to the scene. 
 Most of them had come thither on horseback, and long lines 
 of Arabian horses, decked with gay and costly trappings, 
 were secured to cords which were stretched for the purpose 
 across opposite sides of the enclosure. Camels, lying down 
 beside the fountain, or standing grouped together in corners, 
 skilful youths exercising with the lance, servants and officials 
 hastening hither and thither, all combined to give effect 
 to the strange and exciting scene. 
 
 The massive entrance gate was guarded by Arabs, armed 
 with muskets and spears ; they saluted the new-comers, and 
 gave the password to Abdoul, who, as the frequent emissary 
 of his tribe, was no stranger at the palace. Meredith, follow 
 ing his guide's example, now alighted from his horse, which 
 was immediately taken in charge by an Abyssinian slave, and 
 accompanied the Arab boy within an outer suite of apart 
 ments, where he was left waiting until the arrival of so dis 
 tinguished a guest had been suitably announced. Whatever 
 might be Abdoul's private sentiments, it was none the less 
 pleasure and policy on his part to exalt the character and
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 139 
 
 office of the man whom he served, and that this duty was 
 fulfilled in no stinted degree was made evident by the state 
 ly dignity of the embassy which soon appeared to conduct 
 the Englishman to the presence of the Emir. 
 
 After traversing a succession of marble-paved apartments, 
 surrounded by richly-carpeted divans, Meredith gained a 
 second court decorated with fountains, shrubs, and flowers, 
 passed through a light open arcade, and entered a saloon 
 crowded with officers in waiting, and separated only by a 
 heavy damask curtain from the elevated platform whereon 
 the Emir gave audience. As Meredith passed through this 
 throng of richly clad courtiers, he gave a deprecating glance 
 at his own faded hunting-suit ; but no one present seemed 
 conscious of the rudeness of his toilette, and all saluted him 
 with graceful deference as he preceded them into the great 
 man's presence. 
 
 The Sheik, Said Jimblat, was a handsome Druse Arab, 
 somewhat advanced in years, with a light gray beard, a clear 
 eye, and a fresh complexion. He was clad in a long white 
 robe, with a girdle of cashmere, and, seated at an angle of 
 his crimson divan, presented a mild and dignified appearance. 
 His reception of Meredith was cordial in the extreme : his 
 return of the Englishman's polite obeisance was condescend 
 ing, and, immediately beckoning the unexpected guest to a 
 seat by his side, he, by means of his interpreter, welcomed 
 him to Eptedeen, inquired after his health, and proceeded to 
 question him with eagerness concerning his country, his 
 queen, and the politics of Europe. 
 
 There can scarcely be a nobler tribute to Great Britain 
 than is contained in the fact, that, even in remote and but 
 partially civilized lands, her representatives, whether in a 
 public or a private capacity, almost invariably receive that 
 respect which is due to the sons of a nation renowned for
 
 140 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 its wealth, its moderation, and the protection which it affords 
 to human rights and freedom. Thus Meredith forgot him 
 self, for a while, in the patriotic glow with which he listened 
 to the eulogy pronounced by the Lebanon chief upon his 
 mother country. He responded to it by equally sincere 
 compliments upon the good order, peace, and tranquillity 
 which prevailed under the Emir's government, and the 
 conversation, which was prolonged for nearly an hour, 
 was mutually satisfactory. The Sheik urged upon his guest 
 every species of hospitality; but, pleading the necessary 
 briefness of his visit, Meredith declined all save a cup of 
 coffee and a pipe served in the presence of the Emir, and 
 a hasty banquet which awaited the stranger in one of the 
 lower courts, after a final salutation and blessing on the part 
 of his host. 
 
 A visit to the baths and stables, however, performed un 
 der the guidance of one of the officers of the household, 
 consumed a considerable space of time, and it wanted but 
 a few hours of sunset when Abdoul, who had meanwhile 
 been entertained in another part of the castle, was once 
 more summoned to his master's presence, and with little 
 further delay they set out on their return. 
 
 The road which they now pursued was more direct than 
 that by which they had come thither, but seemed to Mere 
 dith more hopelessly impassable than any he had yet expe 
 rienced. As the travellers were, even by the shortest route, 
 several hours' distance from El Fureidis, and midday was 
 long since past, there was no time to be lost in council or 
 dialogue ; and with silent, patient caution the two horsemen 
 guided and encouraged their steeds, which, refreshed like 
 their masters by the hospitalities of Eptedeen, surmounted 
 with admirable sure-footedness and skill the manifold diffi 
 culties of the way. Here the dry bed of a mountain stream
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 141 
 
 afforded the only pass between perpendicular cliffs, and, 
 strewn as it was with shapeless masses of rock, it presented 
 rather the appearance of a rampart than a road ; there 
 the steep ascent became so smooth and slippery, that it was 
 a marvel where the horses contrived to wedge their iron- 
 pointed hoofs ; and more than once the narrow defiles 
 seemed eternally barred up by heavy boulders, which had 
 fallen directly across the bridle-path, and must be sur 
 mounted at imminent peril of life and limb. 
 
 But habit makes light of danger. Abdoul's white mare 
 was a very mountain chamois, and Meredith was in a mood 
 to encounter risk and hardship with stoical fortitude and 
 indifference. Thus the journey was pursued for hours with 
 an uncomplaining perseverance, which was at length re 
 warded by an abrupt exit from the highland gorges into an 
 open basin or valley lying between two spurs of the Leba 
 non, an oasis of verdure, beyond which El Fureidis might be 
 dimly discerned, suspended from an opposite acclivity, and 
 now accessible by a comparatively easy and rapid approach. 
 The setting sun was casting long rays of purple light across 
 the landscape, as Meredith and his guide, suddenly freed 
 from the intricacies of mountain travel, by a simultaneous 
 movement gave rein to their horses and commenced gallop 
 ing across the little plain, preceded by the panting dogs 
 which had been the unflagging companions of their excur 
 sion. 
 
 One more incident completed the adventures of the day. 
 Not far from the entrance to the valley, where a light 
 silvery cascade leaped from a projecting rock and filled to 
 overflowing a natural basin below, a little group of gazelles 
 were quenching their thirst before seeking their nightly 
 refuge in the mountains. Half hid as the shy creatures 
 were by the glossy-leaved oleanders that grew around the
 
 142 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 fountain, Meredith and Abdoul might have failed to espy 
 them ; but the keen-scented dogs, having been kept in check 
 during the morning lest they should interfere with the sport 
 of the falcon, were now on the alert, and quickly started 
 their game. 
 
 But the fairy-footed herd were not to be easily cap 
 tured. With one bound they cleared the vicinity of their 
 enemy ; before Meredith or Abdoul had observed them, 
 they were half-way across the plain, and out of gun-shot ; 
 a moment more, and they would have gained a safe retreat 
 among the rocks and clefts at the opposite extremity of 
 the valley. Pursuit seemed fruitless, for what foot can 
 rival that of the gazelle? But one more triumph was 
 yet reserved for Abdoul's winged hunter. Quick as the 
 lightning-flash the boy had unloosed the hawk and flung it 
 aloft ; with a wild, fierce scream it had shot obliquely up 
 ward like an arrow, and now, at the critical moment when 
 the frightened gazelles had almost gained their place of 
 shelter, it pounced upon its prey, threw it to the ground, 
 and flapped its heavy wings in the face of the struggling, 
 panting creature, at the same time whirling it round and 
 round with savage velocity. 
 
 Meanwhile the bewildered herd, thus assailed from an un 
 expected quarter, dispersed in frantic uncertainty and fear, 
 flying madly into the pathway of the dogs, and heedlessly 
 bringing themselves within the range of the huntsmen's guns. 
 A shot from Meredith carried instant death to one ; another, 
 wounded by Abdoul's bullet, bounded high into the air, then 
 fell upon its knees, a helpless victim. The Arab youth lin 
 gered to complete the work of destruction ; but the English 
 man, after taking aim and pulling the trigger of his musket, 
 scarcely waited to observe the effect of his shot, but hurried 
 to the spot where the struggle was still continued between 
 the falcon and the prostrate gazelle.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 143 
 
 For a moment he watched the conflict with the air of a 
 connoisseur ; then, his compassion aroused by the helpless 
 ness of the gentler animal and the inequality of the contest, 
 he enlisted himself on the side of the feebler party, and 
 strove to rescue it from the talons of the excited bird. His 
 efforts were in vain, however ; the hawk glanced at him 
 with threatening eyes, and refused to relax its hold. Ab- 
 doul was by this time within hail, and, obedient to a loud 
 call from his master, hastened to the spot. Deaf and obsti 
 nate as the falcon had proved towards a stranger, at a sim 
 ple signal from the Arab it promptly relinquished its prey, 
 suffered itself once more to be hoodwinked, and meekly sub 
 mitted to the treatment due rather to a captive than a con 
 queror. 
 
 At the same moment that Abdoul grasped the talons of 
 the bird with his left hand, with his right he drew from his 
 belt a sharp khangar, and prepared to strike the gazelle, but 
 was checked by Meredith, who hastily threw back the 
 youth's arm and arrested the blow. Meredith's sympathies 
 were now fully awakened in favor of the animal, which, 
 released from the claws of its persecutor, lay stunned and 
 apparently lifeless before him. Perhaps its likeness to 
 Havilah's little attendant, which it closely resembled, had 
 enlisted his interest ; for after placing his hand on its heart, 
 and discovering that it yet beat, he was caressingly stroking 
 its head, when it slowly opened its eyes and fixed them upon 
 him in tender, pathetic appeal. There was no resisting 
 those melting orbs, so like Havilah's own, so perfect a coun 
 terpart of those which always maintained with her a com 
 plete though mute understanding. 
 
 " Stay, boy ! " was Meredith's exclamation, as, intercepting 
 Abdoul's dagger, he lifted the unresisting gazelle from the 
 ground. " Put up your knife, we will take the creature
 
 144 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 home and tame it," he added, at the same time mentally 
 resolving to present it to Havilah as a mate and companion 
 for her favorite. 
 
 With dogged and unwilling obedience Abdoul replaced 
 his poniard in its sheath, and looked on with secret anger 
 and disdain, while Meredith proceeded to dress the wounds 
 of the animal, and, the better to secure and protect it, tied 
 around its limbs the long scarf wlu'ch he wore in Oriental 
 fashion outside his hat. These operations completed, he 
 handed his protege over to Abdoul, with an imperative 
 charge to carry it carefully in his arms to the villa. The 
 boy received his burden with a malignant scowl, which was 
 quite unobserved by Meredith, who remounted the horse 
 that had meanwhile been grazing beside him, and, whistling 
 to his dogs, rode rapidly off in advance of his attendant, 
 who with clenched fist and menacing gesture looked after 
 his master, and seemed to hesitate whether or not to follow 
 him. 
 
 With that patient allegiance, however, which is with his 
 race a habit superior to almost every impulse, he paused 
 but a moment, then followed closely on Meredith's track. 
 That the burden he carried awakened in him emotions 
 directly the reverse of those which actuated Meredith 
 might be gathered from the fact that he bestowed on it 
 scarcely more care than on the slain of its species which 
 hung from his horse's neck. It may even be doubted 
 whether he did not meditate a sly piece of treachery, for 
 so loose and indifferent was his hold upon the animal, so 
 heedlessly did he suffer its legs to slip from their bands, 
 that, had not Meredith turned at the right moment to .make 
 sure of the little creature's safety, it would inevitably have 
 made its escape to its native mountains, or have perished of 
 its wounds by the wayside.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 145 
 
 Without a word of reproof, but with a glance so severe 
 as to be an unmistakable reprimand, Meredith leaned from 
 his horse and relieved the boy of his unwelcome charge, 
 which the Englishman once more wrapped in the mantle, 
 folded to his bosom, and soothed, during the remainder of 
 the ride, with tender and fostering care. 
 
 " Here, Bachmet," he shouted to M. Trefoil's Syrian ser 
 vant, whom he met near the gate-way of the villa, "you 
 are a trustworthy lad ; take care of this little creature. 
 Here is something to pay you for your trouble ; it shall be 
 doubled, if your good nursing heal the poor thing's wound;" 
 and as he spoke, he placed a piece of money in the hand 
 of the youth. The latter joyfully accepted the commission, 
 and followed Meredith up the stone steps of the terrace with 
 exultant face and reiterated and eager thanks. 
 
 As Abdoul watched these proceedings, and the covetous 
 eye of his race caught the gleam of the silver coin, his coun 
 tenance for a moment betrayed signs of savage eagerness 
 and disappointment ; but a passion stronger than avarice 
 immediately succeeded, if one might judge from the malig 
 nant scowl which, as he turned away, distorted his hand 
 some face, and the muttered imprecations with which, as 
 he led the horses to their stable, he invoked the curse of 
 Allah on the hated Frank.
 
 146 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE dwelling of M. Trefoil at all times wore an air of 
 quiet and repose ; but there was this evening something 
 painful, almost ominous to Meredith, in the perfect stillness 
 and seclusion which pervaded the house and grounds, and 
 which formed a striking contrast with the scenes and excite 
 ments of his day among the mountains The fatigue of 
 travel and the rapid succession of incident had somewhat 
 subdued his mental restlessness ; but as he passed through 
 the little garden, whose silence was only broken by the rip 
 pling fountain, and entered the saloon allotted to his use, 
 where only Bachmet attended to bid him welcome, he be 
 came the victim of a tumult of emotions quite at variance 
 with the peacefulness of the place Thus his manner was 
 marked by a degree of haste, uncertainty, and indecision 
 wholly foreign to his usual habits. He entered upon the 
 duties of his toilette with as much nervous rapidity as if 
 hurrying to fulfil an appointment ; but, before they were 
 completed, seemed to forget or abandon his intentions, and, 
 assuming a Persian dressing-gown, threw himself into an 
 arm-chair, a complete representative of gentlemanly leisure. 
 He declined Bachmet's offer of refreshments, and expressed 
 a preference for sitting in a room darkened by the shadows 
 of nightfall ; but the boy had scarcely left the apartment 
 before the capricious Englishman sounded the silver whistle 
 with which he was wont to summon a servant, called, a little
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 147 
 
 impatiently, it must be confessed, for coffee and lights, 
 and, as soon as the latter were brought, applied himself to 
 overlooking a heap of English letters and papers which 
 lay upon his table. He had scarcely time to master any 
 of their contents, when Geita's voice was heard on a bal 
 cony outside the saloon, in familiar gossip with Bachmet. 
 As if it had for the first time occurred to Meredith that his 
 return might be reported to the household, and his non- 
 appearance wondered at, he hastily huddled his papers to 
 gether, readjusted his dress, and with an air of settled 
 determination proceeded courageously to the house-top, 
 where the family, however scattered during the day, were 
 almost sure to assemble at nightfall. 
 
 He found only M. Trefoil and M. Lapierre, who, seated 
 upon the terraced roof, seemed to be engaged in desultory 
 conversation. They greeted him as usual, or, if the man 
 ner of M. Trefoil was slightly embarrassed, it was covered 
 by the refined and benignant grace of the missionary, the 
 sweet serenity of whose deportment nothing could ruffle or 
 disturb. The latter immediately instituted inquiries con 
 cerning Meredith's mountain exploits, the absence of Abdoul 
 and the horses and dogs having sufficiently indicated that 
 their master was on a hunting-excursion. Meredith gave 
 a brief outline of his adventures, the prominent feature of 
 which his visit to Eptedeen at once afforded unlimited 
 scope for conversation. 
 
 M. Trefoil interrogated his guest with many eager and 
 flurried inquiries regarding the assemblage at the palace ; 
 and M. Lapierre, instigated by the manufacturer, furnished 
 for Meredith's benefit a graphic sketch of the private life 
 and political career of the Emir Beshir Shehaab, that pow 
 erful Druse prince, who ruled the Lebanon for many years 
 with impartial rigor, and whose memory will ever be asso-
 
 148 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 ciated with the beautiful palace of Eptedeen, which is a 
 monument of his architectural taste. 
 
 It was half ludicrous, half painful to see with what ner 
 vous and awkward effort M. Trefoil labored to maintain and 
 foster an unbroken stream of talk, with what embarrassment 
 he strove to fill up the pauses, with what visible trepidation 
 he foresaw the probability of the old pastor's leaving him 
 alone with his guest. Twice, M. Lapierre, whose simple 
 habits sent him early to rest, rose to depart, but was de 
 tained by some earnest solicitation on the part of the host ; 
 and when the missionary had finally taken leave, the agita 
 tion of poor M. Trefoil became such as to rob him of all 
 self-control. He launched abruptly upon a variety of topics, 
 but suddenly foundered in all ; for no avenue of thought 
 seemed open to him which did not lead him face to face 
 with the truth he dreaded to tell, or bring him stumbling 
 upon the verge of that disclosure which he weakly sought 
 to postpone. 
 
 After several blundering attempts, therefore, during which 
 Meredith maintained an obstinate silence, the manufacturer 
 relaxed his efforts at conversation, nervously removed his 
 Turkish fez, wiped his heated forehead with his handker 
 chief, peered into the crown of the red tarboosh, as if hoping 
 it might reveal some clew to him in his perplexity, and, this 
 last resort having failed, clapped the cap upon his head again, 
 and looked the very picture of despair. 
 
 Vexed and chagrined at his host's behavior, but com 
 pletely calmed in view of his overwhelming embarrassment, 
 Meredith for a while maintained a proud composure, scorn 
 ing to seek the communication which he felt ought to be 
 volunteered, yet willing to afford M. Trefoil an opportunity 
 for a candid explanation. 
 
 As the latter took no advantage of the pause, however,
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 149 
 
 Meredith at length rose, and briefly wished his friend good 
 night. 
 
 " Going ! so soon J " exclaimed M. Trefoil, speaking in 
 a deprecating tone, but nevertheless starting to his feet 
 with an alacrity which seemed to welcome the motion. 
 " It is not late," he added, with a second protest ; followed 
 immediately by the counter-phrase, "But I dare say you 
 are fatigued." 
 
 Smiling a half-bitter, half-ironical smile, Meredith an 
 swered merely by a nod, and commenced descending the 
 staircase, pursued closely by M. Trefoil, who, his tongue 
 once more loosed, was profuse in hospitable entreaties and 
 attentions. 
 
 " Nothing at all, my dear sir, nothing at all, I thank 
 you," was Meredith's reply to the various offers of refresh 
 ment and service with which M. Trefoil followed him to 
 the edge of the balcony. " My wants are most bountifully 
 supplied." 
 
 " But stay ! " continued the manufacturer, catching his 
 guest by the sleeve, as he was about to descend the steps 
 that led to the garden, and thence to his own apartments, 
 in the opposite wing. " I forgot how what eh " 
 The kind-hearted man, who had begun with brave energy, 
 here evidently abandoned his first intention, and faltered 
 forth the commonplace, " What do you mean to do to-mor 
 row?" 
 
 " I ? do ? O, nothing that I know of," responded Mere 
 dith, breaking away with petulant haste. 
 
 " O, indeed ! nothing ? Good-night, then," said M. Tre 
 foil, with an awkward, unsatisfied air, and turning to re-enter 
 the house. 
 
 The young man ran down the steps, but was once more 
 arrested by the same voice, speaking in a tone half resolute,
 
 150 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 half tremulous, "Meredith! my dear fellow, one mo 
 ment ! " 
 
 Meredith turned, and, seeing that M. Trefoil awaited 
 him, slowly mounted the steps again. 
 
 There was a world of meaning in the tender, emphatic 
 manner with which the elder man laid his hand on the 
 shoulder of the younger. The Avords that followed were 
 scarcely more expressive, though coming as they did in 
 the rapid, vehement utterance with which one speaks 
 who has braced himself for the occasion. "About that 
 matter we were talking of yesterday ! I had it almost as 
 much at heart as you did, you know that, but it won't 
 do ; we must say no more about it, so there 's an end of 
 the whole thing. It is a hard case, but we must bear it the 
 best way we can. " 
 
 There was no affectation in M. Trefoil's thus assuming 
 that the disappointment was mutual and equal. He felt it 
 to be so ; the heaving of his broad chest proved that he 
 did, the choking of his voice, the tears that filled his 
 eyes, proclaimed how deeply the whole man was moved. 
 He evidently looked to Meredith for a response, almost for 
 sympathy ; but there was no sound or movement to in 
 dicate that he whom he addressed had even heard him. 
 The simple-hearted M. Trefoil was awed and grieved by 
 this monumental silence, more than he would have been by 
 a sarcasm or a torrent of bitter words. He even went so 
 far, in the earnest affectionateness of his nature, as to pass 
 his stout arm half around the neck of the immovable 
 young man, at the same time clasping in his one of the 
 hands which hung listlessly down, and offered no returning 
 pressure. " Don't distress yourself, my dear fellow, now 
 don't ! " he continued, in a consolatory tone. " We were mis 
 taken, we men are so ignorant, I thought her little heart
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 151 
 
 was wax, and I find it is a rock, that is all. I would 
 have plead your cause myself, my friend, upon my word 
 I would, but it would have been of no use, the child has * 
 made her own decision, and it seems there is no appeal 
 from that, for the mother says so, and the mother knows." 
 
 These interjectional phrases, honestly intended to soothe 
 their object, but each in reality carrying with it the sting 
 of a barbed arrow, were uttered with spasmodic efforts, 
 and with a sufficient interval between them to admit of 
 some reply. But they called forth none. "With fixed 
 attitude, and eyes fastened rigidly on the face of M. Tre 
 foil, Meredith's countenance and figure expressed merely 
 the simple query, " Is this all ? Have I heard the 
 whole ? " 
 
 Either the unsophisticated manufacturer so interpreted 
 this air of dumb and stoical patience, or the agitation of his 
 own feelings forbade further words ; for he withdrew a step 
 in the direction of the house, made an attempt to utter some 
 thing more, but failed, and darted within the door-way, half 
 convulsed by the vain attempt to repress a sob. 
 
 " What will the Englishman do ? Has he turned to stone ? 
 Will he stand there all night ? " So M. Trefoil inwardly 
 questioned himself, as, having climbed an upper balcony, he 
 leaned cautiously over and played the spy upon a grief 
 which he dared not otherwise face. " Poor lad ! " he ex 
 claimed, as he drew in his head, after making a cautious 
 observation. " Poor lad ! " he again ejaculated, as a second 
 survey revealed Meredith still standing in the same spot. 
 Here the clumsy man, while zealously striving to be unheard, 
 stumbled over his own shadow, grasped at the trellis-work 
 of the balcony in order to save himself from falling, and, 
 startled at the noise which he thus made, retreated precipi 
 tately, saying to himself, " He's got a stroke, a heart-stroke.
 
 152 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 God help him ! They say there 's no cross like a love cross, 
 and I believe it." 
 
 * And the man who, crossed in almost everything else, had 
 never been crossed in love, hurried away to seek the cus 
 tomary relief to his anxieties in lanthe's sympathy. 
 
 Meredith was not conscious of hearing any noise ; he did 
 not even ask himself the cause of the rustling of the vine- 
 branches just above his head ; he was not aware that he 
 listened to M. Trefoil's retreating footsteps. These slight 
 sounds must, however, have played upon his senses, for it 
 could have been nothing short of volition on his part which 
 caused him to stand motionless as a statue until the last 
 footfall had ceased to echo in the night stillness, and then to 
 turn and depart like a sentinel dismissed from his post. It 
 must have been his own act, though it seemed the effect of 
 mechanism, as his tall figure swayed slowly round, like 
 a heavy Eastern door turning on its sunken pivot ; it must 
 have been obedience to an impulse, though it looked rather 
 like resistance, as he dragged his limbs heavily down the 
 stone steps, and crossed the garden with the weary air of 
 one oppressed by a heavy weight. So, with the step of a 
 paralytic and the bent form of an old man, he descended one 
 terrace after another, crossed the mulberry-orchard, and 
 gained the little foot-bridge. 
 
 And now the powers that had been benumbed began to 
 force themselves into play. The whole man had encoun 
 tered the shock ; but pride, the outer bulwark of the man, 
 was the first to feel the sting. His veins throbbed, the 
 blood mounted to his temples and tingled to his finger-ends. 
 Despised ! rejected ! dismissed ! The thought was intolera 
 ble. He must escape from the thought, and he quickened 
 his pace. Thus he crossed the bridge with nervous haste, 
 and struck into the steep path which led upward to Ayn el
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 153 
 
 Bered. Rapidity of motion promised relief; but the thought 
 pursued him, and he fled from the thought. With deter 
 mined strides he began scaling the mountain-side ; but 
 the thought gained upon him, and he commenced running. 
 "With a now vehement energy he sprung from rock to rock, 
 defying obstacles. The moon had not yet risen, and the 
 night was dark ; loose stones rattled beneath his feet, and 
 came tumbling down the slopes and crags. Sly jackals, that 
 were nearing the village under cover of the darkness, fled 
 at his approach ; rushing water-courses strove to oppose his 
 passage ; but he hurried on. He paused a moment at 
 Ayn el Bered ; he stood on the very spot where Havilah 
 had first burst upon him from the thicket. He heard again 
 the merry laugh with which she had greeted his surprise. 
 How sweetly it had rung in his ears ever since that day ! 
 but now it seemed to mock, to taunt him. 
 
 The mocking laugh, the maddening thought, how they 
 chased and spurred him ! how they fired his blood, and lent 
 wings to his flight, as, leaving Ayn el Bered far behind him, 
 he labored up the dreary waste of pasture-ground and peak 
 beyond ! 
 
 What cold horror would have crept over him at some 
 soberer moment, could he have known how, more than once, 
 his foot had slipped at a point where a measureless ravine 
 gaped beneath, and destruction was the price of a false 
 or careless step ! What a sense of miraculous deliverance 
 would have seized him, had daylight revealed the rock- 
 strewn or watery abyss across which he had leaped with an 
 accuracy wholly accidental ! But passion is self-engrossed ; 
 danger has no existence to a madman, and secret darkness 
 never betrayed how death lay in wait for life that night. 
 
 Morning was dawning on the mountains, cold, early 
 morning. The sun was yet far below the horizon, and only 
 7*
 
 154 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 a gray watery moon shed light on the landscape. A chill 
 mist crept up from the valleys, a chill mist dissolved 
 from the clouds. The stunted herbage was saturated 
 with moisture, the rocks were black and dripping. But 
 colder was the chill at the heart, heavier the dew on the 
 forehead of the man, who, stretched on the mountain-top, 
 lay with his face upturned to the sky. He had thrown 
 himself down, hot, feverish, exhausted ; but hours had 
 passed since then ; the searching night-wind and cold rain 
 had penetrated every pore, and an icy hand seemed to have 
 been laid upon him. Passion and pride had spent them 
 selves, the bolt had pierced beneath the surface, and the 
 manly heart of Meredith had taken home the wound. The 
 past was past, the future a blank, the present only a dull, 
 cold sense of pain. Hopeless ! desolate ! bereaved ! was 
 the cry of the grieved spirit. It was no taunting word, no 
 stinging sarcasm ; it was not a thing to flee from, to strug 
 gle with, or to silence ; it was the heart's own cry. 
 
 He had outrun his pride ; solitude, cold, and darkness 
 had dispelled his fever of mortification and surprise ; but 
 there was nothing in the leaden sky above or the hard 
 earth beneath him to minister to his despair. 
 
 Now for the first time he understood himself; now he 
 felt the strength of the chain which had bound him so long 
 to El Fureidis ; now in his bitter wretchedness and humil 
 iation he could rightly measure the love he cherished for 
 Havilah. 
 
 Simple M. Trefoil had labored to soften the blow; he flat 
 tered himself, kind soul ! that he had lessened its severity ; 
 but had he sought through his whole vocabulary of words 
 he could not have found any so effectual and so stunning to 
 a lover as those he had innocently ejaculated, " Her heart 
 is like a rock ! " How the words rung through the young
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 155 
 
 man's soul ! How they seemed to reverberate through all 
 nature ! The hooting of the night-owl gave them harsh 
 utterance; the winds whistling round the mountain-top 
 caught them up ; the huge cliffs re-echoed them. The soft 
 pattering rain-drops, the cold, gray moon, both whispered in 
 his ear, " Her heart is like a rock ! " and the young man, 
 wrapped in an apathy of despair, felt that on this rock the 
 freight of all his rich hopes had foundered. 
 
 Despair has no rebellious workings. It is the cessation 
 of struggle. So he lay stiff and motionless, with his hands 
 clutching the thin rank grass and his face upturned to the 
 pitiless sky, unconscious of the fog which shrouded him, for 
 getful that he could not lie there forever. 
 
 "Was it strange that this man's pride, the first thing to feel 
 the blow, was the first to rally ? Was it strange that he 
 who alone with his grief had been insensible to the elements, 
 shrunk from the eye of a clown ? Yet so it was. The first 
 faint streaks of dawn had scarcely crept up the eastern sky, 
 when a Kurdish shepherd came climbing up the mountain 
 side in search of his scattered flock. Wrapped in his soiled 
 sheep-skin capote, roughest specimen of the roughest race, 
 this rude goatherd might almost have been mistaken for 
 some wild beast of the mountain ; and it was with shy, brutish 
 curiosity that, as he passed the spot where Meredith lay, he 
 surveyed the figure of the prostrate stranger. His idiotic 
 stare, however, had power to excite the Englishman's ire, 
 restore his self-control, and awaken that stern British pride 
 which, rent as it had been, was still his best armor and de 
 fence. The inner citadel, it is true, was undermined, but he 
 could yet patch up the outer defences, and present a fair 
 front to the enemy. 
 
 With resentful impetuosity he raised himself on one 
 elbow, and fixed on the goatherd an eye so full of sternness
 
 156 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 and of wrath, that the timid hind slunk away overawed, not 
 even venturing to look back. Meredith watched him with 
 an angry frown until he had turned an angle in the pathway. 
 As he disappeared from sight the young man rose, looked 
 round for his hat, became conscious that he had left the 
 villa cloakless and bareheaded, glanced at his wet gar 
 ments, ran his fingers through his damp hair, and walked 
 deliberately back to the village.
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 157 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 HAD the Kurdish shepherd been called upon to identify 
 the stranger whose desperate attitude and fierce demeanor 
 had overawed him on the mountain-fop, he would scarcely 
 have recognized his man in the erect, self-possessed, well- 
 dressed individual who presented himself that morning at 
 lanthe's breakfast-table. The boy Bachmet, on the other 
 hand, as he stood behind his master's chair, would unhesi 
 tatingly have taken his oath that the party assembled round 
 the board was in all respects the same that he had served for 
 a month past ; and even a more discriminating observer than 
 Bachmet might have been blind to any change that had 
 passed upon the household. But the simoom of the desert 
 is not more effectual in withering up the face of nature, than 
 the events of the last few days had been in blasting the 
 happy relations that had hitherto subsisted in this domestic 
 circle. 
 
 The frank, easy hospitality of M. Trefoil -had given place 
 to fitful loquacity and fidgety effort ; the tender solicitude of 
 lanthe's manner, the liquid softness of her eye, as it turned 
 on her guest, were silent indications of a sympathy which 
 had far more power to mortify than to soothe. Meredith 
 was rigidly calm. None could detect the reflection of out 
 ward circumstances or inward wrestlings on his face. Held 
 firm by the anchor of a determined will, he had put on his
 
 158 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 old mask of gentlemanly reserve, and sat like a knight with 
 visor down, steeled against every thrust. 
 
 Neither, perhaps, among the four, felt the embarrassment 
 and the pain of the occasion so keenly as Havilah. She 
 spoke not a word. It was all she could do to repress the 
 tears which threatened to flow. She kept her eyes cast 
 down, or, if she raised them for an instant, it was to look 
 about her with the timorous, half-guilty glance of one who, 
 conscious of innocence, still feels herself the cause of all 
 the mischief. 
 
 Once only during the meal did she encounter the eye of 
 Meredith, who sat opposite to her at the table. She had 
 made sufficient pretence of eating, and had found occupation 
 for some minutes past in breaking bits of bread into the 
 leben, or curdled milk, intended for Ayib's breakfast. This 
 task completed, she gave a low, quick summons to her favor 
 ite, unobservant of the fact that the little animal had that 
 instant laid its head on Meredith's outstretched hand, and 
 was receiving his unconscious caress. The young man 
 looked up, saw her purpose, withdrew his hand as suddenly 
 as if it had been bitten, and motioned Ayib away. With a 
 bound, the household pet gained his mistress's side. But he 
 was too late. Havilah thought she saw reproach in Mere 
 dith's quick glance, and, abashed at the mere suspicion of a 
 heartlessness which sought to rob him of the animal's affec 
 tion, she had thrown her napkin hastily over the saucer of 
 bread and milk, and now feigned abstraction. 
 
 Ayib hastened back to his former post, but Meredith was 
 equally neglectful of him, and the affectionate creature, re 
 pulsed on both sides, and disappointed of his breakfast, was 
 fain to Avander underneath the table in search of crumbs. 
 
 It was a trifle, but it was a premonition of what might be 
 anticipated in Havilah's future intercourse with the Eng-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 159 
 
 lishman, blushing timidity and dread on the one side, 
 close scrutiny and sensitive reserve on the other. 
 
 Henceforward absence alone could lessen that barrier of 
 mutual constraint which fate had placed between them, and 
 on this first trying occasion it was a relief to all parties 
 when Bachmet, returning from an excursion to the kitchen, 
 whispered in Havilah's ear a courtly message, inviting her 
 to an interview with a friend who awaited her in the garden. 
 
 That friend was Abdoul. Havilah had not met the boy 
 since his return from the desert. He might have shared the 
 privilege of the meanest villager, and waited on her steps at 
 any hour of her going abroad ; but such a proceeding would 
 have been inconsistent with the dignity of which the youth 
 was so jealous. The formality of his visits was, moreover, 
 but one expression of the young Oriental's reverence for his 
 early playmate, whose presence he seldom sought unan 
 nounced. 
 
 It might be that escape from a painful restraint excited 
 in Havilah an almost childish sense of freedom ; it might be 
 that Abdoul's wonted shyness was dispelled by the more 
 than common cordiality of her welcome. Or perhaps the 
 familiar atmosphere of the garden, the scene of their early 
 sports, had power to revive in all its simplicity the sponta 
 neous friendship of childhood. Certain it is that the desert 
 boy and the mountain girl had not met for many months 
 with such reciprocal ease and pleasure as on the present 
 occasion. It is true the young chieftain's sense of decorum 
 demanded the customary salutations ; the Salaam aleikum 
 (Peace be unto you) was gravely uttered, and was met by 
 the Scriptural response from Havilah, Allah mukum (The 
 Lord be with you). But when, seating herself beside the 
 fountain, she questioned him with sisterly interest concern 
 ing his family and his travels, and he, stretched gracefully
 
 160 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 on the ground at her feet, gazed up at her with dove-like 
 mildness, it would have been difficult for either to realize 
 that six seasons had passed over their heads since the 
 bronzed boy lay on that same spot with his wounded arm 
 extended on the marble pavement, and Havilah bent over 
 hun with pitying eye, and soothed his hours of pain. 
 
 The hard and strongly aspirated language of the Bedouin 
 is ill-fitted for the expression of gentle thoughts, and the 
 face of even a beautiful Arab is most beautiful when in 
 repose. Abdoul, however, was a poet by nature, and his 
 versatile features were framed to express the extremes of 
 fierceness and of pathos. Thus his words seemed to drop 
 from honeyed lips, and his countenance wore an almost 
 feminine expression, as, drinking inspiration from Havilah's 
 presence, he discoursed on the themes most congenial to the 
 imaginative mind of the Oriental. 
 
 " See, Havilah ! " he exclaimed, as, holding a richly-tinted 
 geranium in a cup formed by one small hand, he gently 
 stroked the velvet leaves with a thin taper finger of the 
 other, " see how the sunshine and dew of Lebanon have 
 painted themselves on the flower ! Allah is great in the 
 desert, but he is beautiful on the mountains. Truly, as Fa 
 ther Lapierre says, El Fureidis is the earth's oasis, and," 
 he added, as he raised the blossom to his nostrils, " there is 
 no smell like the smell of Lebanon." 
 
 "But the desert has its flowers," said Havilah, "and 
 when Sheik Zanadeen encamps by the fountains of El Ba- 
 rada, the mignonette and lupin creep to the very door of 
 his tent." 
 
 " Thou speakest truth, Havilah. They creep and wither 
 and die. The sirocco blasts them, the scorching sun dries 
 up their fragrance. Only in the shelter of the mulberry- 
 groves beside the living streams of the rock do the flowers
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 161 
 
 bloom erect and fair, and the smiles of woman make glad 
 the heart of man." 
 
 " So faithless to thy race, Abdoul ? " exclaimed Havilah, 
 reproachfully. " Dost thou forget Zaaferan, the tall Palmy- 
 rene, daughter of thine uncle, Sheik Abou-Malek ? Dost 
 thou forget that she waits in her father's harem until her 
 cousin Abdoul shall bring the bridal ransom ? " 
 
 " Inshallah ! then let her wait ! " responded Abdoul, in a 
 contemptuous tone, and with a wild gesture of impatience. 
 " ' Waste not your jasmine-oil on a rat's head ' is a part of 
 the wisdom of an Arab. Zaaferan is tall like the palm, and 
 slender as the thin reed ; but can a shadow woo a lover ? 
 Can pale lips and tawny cheeks gladden the eyes which 
 have gazed on one whose mouth is a branch of coral, and 
 whose skin is a vessel of milk ? The desert maid is the 
 one-stringed Rubabah which wearies the ear with its monot 
 onous note ; the Mountain Rose is a many-toned lute, and 
 all the airs of heaven play on it" 
 
 Half shocked, half amused at the young chief's want of 
 gallantry towards the Arab maid, and carelessly indifferent 
 to the implied compliments to herself, which were so fre 
 quent on Oriental lips as to be well-nigh meaningless, Havi 
 lah replied with conscious irony : " Abdoul is eloquent in 
 praise of the mountains ; he will return no more to his fa 
 ther's tent ; he will till a vineyard on the slopes of Baruk ; 
 he will yoke the oxen to the plough, and be a faithful sub 
 ject of the Emir Said Jimblat." 
 
 "Allah forbid!" exclaimed the young Bedouin, his eye 
 kindling with proud disdain. " Beauty may flourish in the 
 mountains and sweetness lurk in the valleys, but glory, 
 freedom, and power are abroad on the plains. Shall he who 
 has subdued the wild mare of El Hejaz, and whose swift 
 dromedary outruns the wind, handle the mean tools of a fel- 
 
 K
 
 162 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 lah, or tread in the footprints of a yoked steer ? Shall the 
 Arab el Araba of the kingdom of Yemen, of the pure race 
 of the Kahtanide, consent to become a slave ? " 
 
 " Is not he a slave," questioned Havilah, " who day after 
 day follows the toilsome caravan ? "Would not his straining 
 eye and throbbing brow find relief in the green shade of the 
 sycamore ? Would not his thirsty lips be refreshed by such 
 fruits as these ? " and as she finished speaking she held 
 above the boy's head a rich cluster of grapes and a handful 
 of golden apricots, which she had selected from the basket 
 of Bachmet, who was now busily engaged in stripping the 
 young trees and vines that grew beside the fountain. 
 
 There was neither admiration nor wistfulness in the face 
 of Abdoul as he gazed on the fruit, and it was with the 
 proud air of one superior to every temptation of the appetite 
 and the senses that he replied : " The traveller on the desert, 
 Havilah, cares little for luxury and repose ; to him hardship 
 is enjoyment, and action rest. Mohammed, best beloved of 
 Allah, has promised Paradise at last to him who is victo 
 rious over pain, but the faithful followers of the Prophet 
 look not for a heaven below." 
 
 Despite the inconsistencies of Abdoul's religious zeal, 
 Havilah well knew his capacity of patient endurance and 
 self-sacrifice. She was touched by that profession of heroic 
 submission which might well have become a Christian, and 
 with a shade of gentle pity on her face continued silent. 
 
 But pity was not the sentiment which Abdoul desired to 
 inspire, and, the expression of his face changing from resig 
 nation to enthusiasm, he resumed : " But think not that the 
 desert is dreary, Havilah. To inhale its breezes is a joy, 
 to bound over its sands is freedom, to hail the distant watch- 
 fire is to feel the kindling hope. Zanadeen, prince of his 
 tribe, rides at the head of five hundred spears; as many
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 163 
 
 thousand do his bidding. To the friends of Zanadeen the 
 wilderness is a safe highway, and under the shadow of his 
 tent they need fear neither Turk nor robber. Would 
 Havilah but journey thither, would she trust the hospi 
 tality of the white-bearded Emir, the young men would vie 
 with each other to do her honor, the maidens would sit at 
 her feet, the desert would salute its queen." 
 
 Havilah smiled as the boy indulged these fanciful chime 
 ras. It would seem that he drew encouragement from the 
 smile, for, his imaginative ardor fully roused, he eagerly pur 
 sued the theme ; his eye dilated and his small hand waved 
 emphatic gestures, as, with the boastfulness peculiar to his 
 race, he declaimed on the greatness and valor of his tribe, 
 and the honors they had it in their power to bestow ; not omit 
 ting to intersperse among his narratives a few vain allusions 
 to his own feats of horsemanship and prowess, and the influ 
 ence they had gained for him over the Bedouin hordes. 
 
 It was a picturesque scene which the centre terrace of the 
 garden afforded at this crisis, so romantic indeed in its 
 grouping and effect as to rivet the momentary gaze of 
 Meredith, who, descending the upper flight of steps, was 
 compelled to pass within a few feet of the fountain on his 
 way from the breakfast-saloon to his own apartment Havi 
 lah, while lending an attentive ear to her companion's eager 
 recital, was bending over a huge tray of fruit which Bach- 
 m'et had deposited on the stone coping of the fountain, and 
 her diligent fingers were sorting and arranging the heavy 
 clusters of purple and gold. The hood of her burnous had 
 half fallen from her head, suffering the sunlight to play on 
 her hair, and the snowy lamb's-wool garment, of a breadth 
 sufficient to envelope her whole person, was thrown in heavy 
 folds over one shoulder, revealing the tight-fitting sleeve of 
 her crimson jacket, and contrasting with her full skirt of
 
 164 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 gayly-striped Persian silk. She had placed herself just on 
 the verge of the shade afforded by a little thicket of shrub 
 bery, and her figure, defined in the intense morning light, 
 and relieved by a background of clear blue sky, formed the 
 prominent object in the picture. The form of Abdoul was 
 partially concealed by his lowly posture, and by the branches 
 of the oleander and orange trees which arched above the 
 spot where he lay. One slender limb was extended to its 
 full length on the grass, the other bent beneath his body, 
 in an attitude possible only to the supple-jointed Arab ; the 
 fragment of an ancient stone entablature, which sometimes 
 filled the office of a rustic seat, afforded support to the 
 youth's left arm, and his chin rested on his hand as he 
 gazed upward at Havilah. His face only was lit by the 
 sunbeams that were now and then sifted through the foli 
 age, and as his impulsive nature warmed and called his 
 features into play, the glow that overspread them seemed 
 the more intense from the obscurity in which he otherwise 
 lay hid. A minor figure in the party assembled around the 
 fountain might be seen in the form of Geita, who as usual 
 was busy in the garden at this hour, and who, as she 
 stooped to fill her watering-pot at the dripping basin, or 
 passed from one to another of lanthe's flowers, added not a 
 little to the picturesque character of the scene. Nor was 
 Bachmet a wholly insignificant object ; for every now and 
 then his gay red turban gleamed from the fruit-trees and 
 trellises, looking like some mammoth poppy which had 
 attained a gigantic height. 
 
 The Englishman neither started nor changed color, but a 
 twinge, as if the effect of sudden pain, shot across his coun 
 tenance as he passed between this picture and the sunlight. 
 Nor was his presence without its effect on the group. His 
 passage had left a shadow deeper than the shadow of the 
 sunshine.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 165 
 
 There was something in his slow step and dejected air, 
 before he became conscious that he was perceived, there was 
 something afterwards in his silence and his passing on, which 
 caused Havilah to shrink with nervous dread, and cast down 
 her eyes like one rebuked. Geita dropped her watering- 
 pot, sighed, and looked inquiringly at her mistress. Even 
 Bachmet drew his head within the shelter of a tree, and 
 from his secret post of observation watched his master's 
 guest, until he had entered his own apartment and closed 
 the door. Nor was Abdoul exempt from the shadow. It is 
 true that, as without turning his head he scanned the Eng 
 lishman from a corner of his eye, and, with the quick inter 
 pretation of a savage, read Meredith's face as if it had been 
 an open book, the young Bedouin's countenance glowed with 
 sudden triumph, but it was a fearful, a startling, a malig 
 nant triumph, it was the lightning that cometh out of the 
 cloud. 
 
 His whole nature seemed illuminated. His eyes flashed 
 vividly ; his voice took an exultant tone. Nor was the effect 
 merely outward and momentary. His excitable mind was 
 fixed, and the new turn given to his thoughts immediately 
 betrayed itself in his conversation and gestures. Flattering 
 reminiscences of his own prowess and power were super 
 seded by the stronger passions of his race, and, either for 
 getful or unappreciative of the character of his listener, he 
 now launched upon tales of war and blood, the provocation 
 of the enemy, the pursuit, the combat, the revenge. 
 
 His accent became deep, guttural, and harsh, as, with rapid 
 words and highly-wrought figures of speech, he dwelt on 
 these fierce topics ; his brow was darkened by a heavy scowl, 
 as he showered imprecations on the foes of his race ; his head 
 was bent eagerly forward, and his eyes glowed with a lurid 
 light, as he seemed to strain his vision for the detection of
 
 166 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 the distant camp-fires ; and when his wild tale reached its 
 climax, his long white teeth were firmly set, and his right 
 hand clutched the hilt of his dagger, while he affirmed that 
 sooner or later, in spite of obstacles, the steel of the aven 
 ging Arab was sure to reach the victim's heart. 
 
 " Hush ! Abdoul, hush ! " cried Havilah, in a commanding 
 tone, and starting up from her seat. " Cease from such 
 wicked words," she added, with a shudder. " Hast thou for 
 gotten that thou speakest to one whose religion is a religion 
 of forgiveness and peace ? " 
 
 The scowl melted from the forehead of the boy, his hand 
 was slowly withdrawn from his weapon, and his eyes shone 
 with a milder light as he meekly bowed himself before the 
 rebuke expressed in Havilah's countenance and manner no 
 less than her sudden words. 
 
 There was contrition even in his expression, and some 
 thing of the mute pathos of rebuked ignorance. Havilah 
 saw and comprehended it, for she resumed promptly, in a 
 gentle, persuasive tone : " Leave such stories, Abdoul, for 
 the cowardly and the mean. They do not belong to princes 
 or to heroes. The noblest victor is he who can master him 
 self. Such tales of revenge and blood cannot be real and 
 true. They are the legends of the old Arab poets, the 
 fictions of the brain. They are not fit for Abdoul's lips or 
 Havilah's ears." 
 
 With meek patience Abdoul listened, his eyes fastened 
 upon her face like one under the influence of a spell. Loath 
 to suffer in her good opinion, he was glad to escape her dis 
 pleasure under any pretence, and the pensive smile which 
 had now superseded his fierce frown seemed to imply that 
 his recent tempest of passion had been only feigned. 
 
 Havilah was but half deceived. His invectives and threats 
 had been too unmistakably real. It was with a sad, there-
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 167 
 
 fore, rather than a satisfied tone, that she continued : " Ab- 
 doul wields his tongue after the same fashion as his spear 
 and dagger. He runs a wild tilt and makes savage thrusts, 
 but it is only to show his skill at the game ; he only seeks 
 to try the courage and to test the nerves. I thought he 
 could not be in earnest. I would not believe he could so 
 soon have forgotten all the gentle teachings of the Mother 
 lanthe." 
 
 As Havilah finished speaking, she turned to leave the 
 garden, the grave, unconscious dignity of her manner im 
 parting to her something of the air of a youthful princess. 
 
 Abdoul, perceiving her intention, rose from the ground, 
 and, wearing the respectful air of a subject whose interview 
 with royalty is ended, he saluted her with more than custom 
 ary formality, and stood with his eyes cast down, and his 
 hand upon his heart, until she had passed up the steps and 
 re-entered the villa.
 
 168 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 IT was now Meredith's first wish to leave El Fureidls. 
 He had seized the moment when Havilah rose from the 
 breakfast-table to broach the matter to M. Trefoil, and the 
 preparations for departure were already going forward. 
 Despite his genuine hospitality, the transparent face of the 
 manufacturer gave unmistakable evidence of the relief this 
 decision afforded to his embarrassment, and it was with a 
 ludicrous mixture of sadness and alacrity that he took 
 upon himself the final offices of a host, and devoted all 
 his bustling energies to the requisite arrangements for his 
 guest's approaching journey. 
 
 With his usual impetuosity and contempt of obstacles, 
 Meredith had resolved to set out that very day. But when 
 he named his intention, M. Trefoil lifted his eyebrows, and 
 fixed his round, honest eyes on the young man, as if doubt 
 ing his sanity ; and Abdoul, upon being consulted, gravely 
 pronounced the thing impossible. M. Trefoil knew the 
 necessities of an Eastern traveller, bound, as Meredith pro 
 fessed to be, on a distant pilgrimage, and the young Arab, 
 despite the sly satisfaction which he felt at the prospect of 
 the Englishman's bidding farewell to El Fureidis, would 
 not abate one iota of his preconceived notions in regard to 
 a due equipment for the journey. 
 
 Twenty-four hours was pronounced the least possible time 
 in which the necessary preparations could be completed, and,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 169 
 
 with true Oriental want of punctuality, and some inevitable 
 causes of delay, this period was finally lengthened to several 
 days. 
 
 During this interval Abdoul made himself busy in his 
 own department, affecting all the airs of a finished drago 
 man, and issuing lordly directions in reference to the shoeing 
 of horses, the repairing of saddles, and the burnishing and 
 replenishing of his own and his master's stock of fire-arms. 
 
 M. Trefoil, meanwhile, deaf to all other claims, whether of 
 business or of pleasure, might be seen, at almost any hour 
 of the day, perambulating the village, pausing at almost 
 every cottage, and making drafts upon every quarter which 
 could be rendered available for contributing to his friend's 
 personal outfit, tent furniture, or travelling canteen. 
 
 The management of his affairs being thus assumed by a 
 despotic servant and an indefatigable commissariat, Mere 
 dith would have found himself destitute of both employment 
 and society but for M. Lapierre, who, as he had been the 
 first to welcome the stranger to El Fureidis, and had played 
 towards him a paternal part, now seemed called to exercise 
 a new ministry in his behalf. No amount of worldly tact or 
 selfish policy, nothing but the truest Christian courtesy, could 
 have inspired the benevolent and successful zeal with which 
 this village pastor, placing himself in the vacant social niche, 
 contrived to furnish occupation for Meredith's idle hours, and 
 soothe the mind which was visibly preying on itself. 
 
 The very fact that the traveller's time was limited af 
 forded a pretext for urging him to those scientific and anti 
 quarian researches which were yet incomplete, and each day 
 saw the young man and the patriarch sallying forth from the 
 village on excursions which each felt to be on his own part 
 merely nominal. Father Lapierre, however, was far too 
 wise and cautious to betray any suspicion of the English- 
 8
 
 170 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 man's present relations with the family at the villa ; the 
 lofty train of thought, the well-poised intellect, of one who 
 had overcome passion and the world, acted as a lever upon 
 Meredith's mental powers ; and the tender pity which had 
 prompted the effort for his sake was exalted into admiring 
 sympathy, as the veteran warrior of the cross, who loved a 
 strong and invincible nature, saw with what equanimity of 
 force the freshly stricken sufferer sustained his burden. 
 
 For although stoical and pitiably sad, there was something 
 heroic and grand in the calmness and dignity with which, 
 after the first shock, this disappointed lover took his mis 
 fortune to heart, hugged it there unresistingly, and without 
 wincing suffered it to swallow up and absorb all those secret 
 springs of joy which latterly had been to him a fountain of 
 fresh life. 
 
 A practised courtier, a professed connoisseur in the ways 
 of the human heart, would perhaps have moved an appeal 
 from M. Trefoil's abrupt verdict, would have meditated new 
 modes of approach, and still courted success. But Meredith 
 was a stranger to coquetry in all its forms. He was ear 
 nest, simple, and true. To him a repulse was a defeat ; the 
 tilt with fortune was ended, and the discarded lover was a 
 perpetual exile from his mistress's smiles. 
 
 Still less did it occur to him to question the manner in 
 which his courtship had been conducted. The very terms 
 in which his rejection had been couched forbade this. The 
 decision had rested solely with Havilah. She was in 
 different to him. It was enough. He asked no further 
 explanation. He could even find it in his heart to be 
 grateful to M. Trefoil, who had by his friendly intervention 
 saved him from a more direct repulse. 
 
 Some men's vanity festers, becomes inflated and more 
 offensive than ever, when it has chanced to receive a sting.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 171 
 
 But it was not so with Meredith. So far as Havilah was 
 concerned, the blow to the young man's self-esteem was 
 fatal. He sought not to undervalue the prize which he had 
 failed to win ; but was content to believe that the unwor- 
 thiness was all his own. He ceased to dwell on those be 
 witching graces which had hitherto captivated him ; and 
 beholding her rather in that character of lofty and myste 
 rious beauty which had sometimes placed her above his 
 comprehension, he wonderingly asked himself how he had 
 ever dared aspire so high. So keenly conscious was he, 
 indeed, of his own inferiority, that, if possible, he rev 
 erenced her the more for having been conscious of it too. 
 
 There was nothing mean or degrading in this self-abase 
 ment ; it sprung from the noblest generosity, a generos 
 ity which had lavished a wealth of love where it met no 
 return, but which would not recall the gift ; was ready to 
 sacrifice its best affections, to let them flow out like water, 
 but scorned to believe that they had been misplaced. 
 
 It is rare to find a man just towards those whose friend 
 ship has cost him dear. Meredith was more than just ; he 
 was magnanimous. The child-like confidence of Havilah's 
 manner towards him could not be restored ; but she ceased 
 to shrink and drop her eyelids in his presence when a single 
 day's experience had proved that, though pricked to the 
 heart by her avoidance, Meredith forbore to importune her 
 with his presence, addressed to her only words of courtesy, 
 and denied himself even a stolen glance at her face, from 
 the dread of disconcerting or giving her pain. 
 
 Nothing could be more distasteful to the self-love of the 
 Englishman than the unsought and unwelcome pity con 
 stantly evinced in lanthe's demeanor towards him ; but 
 his better feelings gained the mastery, gratitude triumphed 
 over pride, and her touching solicitude was responded to by
 
 172 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 such filial tenderness of word and act as satisfied the sensi 
 tive invalid that not a particle of resentment rankled in his 
 breast. 
 
 But to no one was Meredith's generosity so great a cause 
 of satisfaction as to M. Trefoil. It never occurred to either, 
 to their credit be it said, that their pecuniary relations would 
 be in the slightest degree affected by the present embarrass 
 ment. The forgiving temper of the manufacturer also for 
 bade him to doubt that a good understanding would finally 
 be established between himself and his friend. But the 
 clumsy tactician was conscious of the awkward part he had 
 played, in first blindly encouraging, then totally blasting, 
 the hopes of a lover ; he had been shocked at the palsied 
 stupor with which Meredith had learned his fate, and was 
 fully prepared either to behold the young man the victim of 
 despair, or to find himself the subject of bitter and deserved 
 reproach. 
 
 Relieved from both these apprehensions by Meredith's 
 friendly and self-possessed demeanor, the elastic spirits of 
 M. Trefoil at once recovered their tone ; his penetration, 
 which seldom probed beneath the surface, took no note of 
 any effort on Meredith's part ; he saw him calm, believed 
 him cheerful, and, deceived by his apparent recovery from 
 the blow, even went so far as to doubt whether it had been 
 such a heart-stroke after all. 
 
 Outward acts of liberality are insignificant compared with 
 generosity of soul ; still they have their secret spring in the 
 heart, and often carry with them a silent appeal. No one 
 who had the slightest acquaintance with Meredith was sur 
 prised to learn that he had roused the gratitude of the 
 village by the profuseness of his gifts at departure, and that, 
 from the aged brotherhood of Maronite monks to the young 
 est child in the village school, none was left without a token
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 173 
 
 of his good-will. These deeds of bounty \vere natural, and 
 might have been anticipated ; but a deeper chord was 
 touched, and deeper memories stirred among the inmates 
 of the villa, as many a trifling circumstance revealed, when 
 it was too late for thanks, their recent guest's thoughtful- 
 ness for those whom he left behind, and his own utter self- 
 abandonment. He took with him only what his bare 
 necessities required ; every article, whether of use or orna 
 ment, which he had imported into the villa, every curious 
 relic, every costly trifle, his most elaborate fire-arms, his 
 amber-mouthed pipes, all were found in their accustomed 
 places. Not a book among the library brought thither from 
 Beyrout was removed from its shelf, and costly furs, and 
 fabrics of Persian manufacture, were found heaped together 
 on the divan of his room. A beautiful gray mare, which 
 Havilah had occasionally ridden, was left in M. Trefoil's 
 stable, the gayly housed saddle and silver-mounted bridle 
 were still suspended from the wall. The portfolio, in which 
 Meredith's pupil had sometimes practised drawing, lay upon 
 her stool in the open alcove, every pencil and crayon freshly 
 pointed for use. 
 
 Among all the contributions to comfort and enjoyment, 
 which had dated from the time of the Englishman's arrival, 
 nothing was left wanting but his now unwelcome self. 
 
 It was a cold and comfortless morning when Meredith 
 bade adieu to El Fureldis. So chilly was the atmosphere, 
 so keen the wind on the mountains, that lanthe dared not 
 follow her guest to the threshold, and he was summoned to 
 an inner room to take leave of her. 
 
 The change in the season was making its mark on the 
 invalid. She lay on her couch wrapped in a long white 
 robe, and her face wore the pallor of the grave. Moved by 
 a sudden and yet solemn impulse, the tall Englishman bent
 
 174 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 forward and kissed her brow reverentially, as one kisses the 
 brow of the dead. It brought his eyes close to hers. He 
 seemed to read her soul. " Farewell, madam," he said, 
 deeply moved ; " I shall see you no more ; but my time, my 
 wealth, my influence, are all at your command. I can never 
 know any higher joy than in serving you. Only give me 
 the opportunity, and I will gladly prove to you, whenever 
 and wherever I may, that the disappointed lover can yet be 
 a friend." 
 
 " God bless you ! " said lanthe, " and farewell ! Few men," 
 she added, in a broken voice, " could do as you have done. 
 Havilah's mother thanks you, and will not forget." 
 
 Havilah stood at the head of the upper flight of steps. 
 She had witnessed Meredith's interview with her mother. 
 Large tears stood in her eyes, and the hand which she of 
 fered in parting trembled visibly. Almost any other man 
 than Meredith would have been emboldened by the poor 
 child's agitation. But it was the reverse with the English 
 man. He scarcely ventured to clasp the little fluttering 
 hand, dropped it as if fearful his touch might offend, and 
 with husky voice ejaculated the hasty word, " Good by ! " 
 
 Even to the last moment the excited spirits of M. Trefoil 
 found vent in the eager and officious zeal with which he de 
 voted himself to every detail of the travelling accoutrement. 
 Even at the last shaking of hands, his restless eye was in 
 specting the leather strap of a saddle-bag ; even when the 
 party were fairly started, he ran bare-headed down the bri 
 dle-path to suggest an alteration in the length of Meredith's 
 stirrup ; and it was not until the riders had finally turned the 
 angle of the granite boulder, and were lost to sight, that the 
 good man drew out his handkerchief, wiped his ruddy face, 
 and stifled a sigh with the philosophical soliloquy, " Heyday ! 
 So we meet and part ! A good fellow ! A noble fellow !
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 175 
 
 I shall miss him mightily. But such is life ! And now to 
 my day's work at the factory." 
 
 The travellers had scarcely proceeded ten rods, when a 
 low cry arrested Meredith's attention. He drew in his horse, 
 and, peering beneath the shadow of a little stone enclosure 
 or shed, beheld stretched upon the ground the nearly life 
 less form of the wounded gazelle. The poor animal was 
 in the agonies of death, and the cry which had reached 
 Meredith's ear was its last low moan. The boy Bachmet 
 stood beside it watching its struggles. 
 
 Meredith had not thought of the little creature since the 
 day when he brought it home in his arms ; but he waited 
 now, a silent spectator of the scene, until, after a few convul 
 sive twitchings, it stretched itself out and lay stiff and still. 
 The boy looked up with an expression of disappointment 
 and regret in his face, which was succeeded by a glow of 
 grateful surprise, as Meredith leaned from his horse and 
 placed in his hand the silver which was to have been the 
 reward of successful treatment, saying, in a tone full of 
 mournful meaning : " It is not your fault, my boy ; you 
 have done the best you could ; there are some wounds that 
 never can be healed." 
 
 At the door of Father Lapierre's dwelling Meredith 
 paused again, and found the old man, staff in hand, at the 
 threshold, waiting to bestow a blessing upon him. Spring 
 ing from his horse and leading him by the bridle, Meredith 
 walked beside the venerable priest, who insisted upon accom 
 panying him to the farthest extremity of the village, saying, 
 " I was the first to welcome you to El Fureidis, my son, I 
 will be the last to bid you farewell." 
 
 But the village benefactor was not to be suffered thus 
 peacefully to depart with the solitary blessing of the holy 
 man upon his head. A peasant throng had assembled to do
 
 176 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 him honor ; they already crowded upon his steps ; they had 
 marshalled themselves into a band, and hailed him with 
 music and with shouts of joy; and when, after proceeding 
 some distance on foot, he had grasped Father Lapierre's 
 hand, had received the missionary's final benediction, and 
 had mounted his horse to depart, the air rang with the 
 " Sola el kaer ! " (Be this a blessed day to ye travellers !) 
 which was the unanimous salutation of the crowd. 
 
 What a mockery it seemed to Meredith ! What a mock 
 ery seemed to him all the hospitalities, honors, and joys 
 which he had experienced in El Fureidis ! The little village 
 had dawned upon him three months ago as an Eden of rest ; 
 its united voice followed him now with a triumphal song ; 
 but it had lured the sick of body to a short repose, only to 
 send him sick at heart, empty, and beggared away.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WINTER had come and gone upon the Lebanon. Though 
 short, it had been unusually severe. Piercing winds had for 
 some weeks prevailed, and the early and latter rains, which 
 in the valleys were profuse and violent, had descended upon 
 the highlands in the form of deep and drifting snows. 
 The peasants of El Fureidis and other villages of similar 
 altitude had encountered on their mountains all the priva 
 tions and dangers of Alpine life. Some had even perished 
 of cold and exposure ; and not a few had seen their camels 
 or mules sink inextricably in the snow, and, leaving the 
 poor animals to their fate, had made their way, frost-bitten, 
 to the nearest place of shelter. Nor were those who kept 
 themselves carefully housed exempt from a share in the 
 suffering entailed by the inclemency of the season. A fa 
 vored climate makes men improvident ; and in a region 
 where summer ordinarily prevails for ten months of the 
 year, houses are ill fitted to resist the cold, the supply of 
 fuel is often insufficient, and at best the confinement within 
 stone walls is sadly irksome to those accustomed to luxuriate 
 amid soft breezes and beneath cloudless skies. 
 
 Never, therefore, was spring more gladly welcomed. With 
 the first peeping forth of the buds, children's faces peeped 
 out too from the half-open doorways ; soon young and old 
 laughed to see with what giant strokes Nature was putting 
 on her colors ; and daisies, clover, and scarlet anemones 
 8* r,
 
 178 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 laughed back from every sunny slope. The heart of the 
 husbandman beat high with hope as he watched the watering 
 of the ridges and the settling of the furrows, and marked how 
 the paths of the Lord dropped fatness. Truly might it be 
 said of sacred Lebanon, " The little hills rejoice on every 
 side.; the pastures are clothed with flocks ; the floods clap 
 their hands ; the valleys shout for joy, they also sing." 
 
 The Spring is royal in her bounty, she is prodigal of her 
 wealth. Not only does she renew the inhabited parts of the 
 earth, but the solitary places are made glad at her coming, 
 the lonely isles waft fragrance, the desert blossoms like the 
 rose, and God smiles on the ruins and the wrecks which man , 
 has long since forsaken. 
 
 So Esh-Shukif, planted on a ridge of the Lebanon, huge 
 rampart of Sidonian commerce, the Castle Belfort of a chiv 
 alrous age, the silent monitor of later times, rears itself as 
 a monument of human decay ; but is written all over with 
 records of the perennial youth distilled upon it from an 
 Almighty hand. 
 
 No watchman is now stationed at the loophole, but through 
 chinks and apertures in the bevelled masonry streams the 
 same sunshine which once beat on the head of the Phoeni 
 cian guard who watched the approach of the winding cara 
 van ; no banner floats on the tower, but its angles are defined 
 against the same blue sky beneath which Raynald of Nor 
 mandy unfurled his standard to the breeze. The Latin chapel 
 no longer resounds with anthems, masses, or Te-Deums, but 
 the birds of heaven have built their nests in the groined ceil 
 ing, and the lonely arches re-echo their song ; the spacious 
 parade-ground is no longer gay with the splendors of Tyre 
 or the chivalry of France, but through the crevices of its dis 
 jointed stones vegetation has forced its way, and neither the 
 march of men nor the trampling of hoofs disturbs the flowers
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 179 
 
 which have made a garden of the spot. No barbarian 
 horde, no Saracen troop, threatens to invade the empty 
 fortress, but fifteen hundred feet below the verge of the 
 parapet the foaming Litany rushes on with as wild a roar 
 as when it formed the main defence of the castle, and 
 sounded a warning to the foe. 
 
 What a strange old solitude it is ! What a place for 
 meditation and self-communing ! a place where the earth- 
 bound soul may dream and sigh and grow sad, a place 
 where the uplifted heart must wonder and adore. 
 
 Spectres of the past are reputed to haunt such spots. 
 Nor is Esh-Shukif without its ghostly tenant, if we may 
 believe the report now agitating the village of Arnun, 
 whose superstitious peasantry have caught a fresh alarm 
 concerning their grim neighbor. Seated upon the rocks, 
 beneath a spreading tree, which is the trysting-spot of the 
 little hamlet, the eager gossips detail their startling expe 
 riences. One had gone to look for his donkey, which had 
 a habit of straying into the vaulted stables of the castle ; 
 but while scaling the difficult pathway the poor fellow's 
 progress had been arrested, and his senses bewildered, by 
 the sight of a gigantic form seated upon the abutment, and 
 waving him back by a forbidding gesture. Another, lost 
 at night, and seeking refuge in the fortress, had heard 
 heavy footsteps pacing the stone threshold, as if a sentry 
 were stationed there. The children of a third had been 
 checked in their sports amid the ruins, and sent terror- 
 stricken home, by the sighs and stifled groans which had 
 reached their ears from some unknown source ; and half at 
 least of the inhabitants of the village were ready to testify 
 that they had just at nightfall observed a tall figure, stand 
 ing erect and still as a statue, upon the round tower at the 
 southwest corner of the castle.
 
 180 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Let the ignorant speculate and wonder. Let us follow 
 the ghost, and see if we cannot detect in him a familar ob 
 ject. There he is just ascending to his nightly watch. The 
 villagers have spoken the truth, for now he stands upon 
 his post, with folded arms, looking like the stony apex to a 
 monumental column. We last saw him mounting his horse 
 and bidding farewell to El Fureidis. Where has he been 
 since then, and how comes he here? 
 
 He has been in search of the Lethean spring. He 
 has come back more heavily laden than ever with memo 
 ries that will not sleep. 
 
 He has traced the Tigris and the Euphrates to their 
 source ; he has sought out the spot where humanity was 
 cradled, but has failed to renew his youth ; he has bathed in 
 the sacred river of the Arabs, but its healing waters have 
 had no power over his wounded spirit.* 
 
 In the disguise of a Mussulman, he has performed the 
 sacred pilgrimage. With a foreign garb and a foreign 
 tongue, he has imposed on the sons of the faithful. He 
 would gladly have disbelieved his own identity ; but while 
 others were unsuspiciously silent, an inward voice contin 
 ually hailed him as " dog of an unbeliever." He has per 
 formed the seven perambulations around the sacred Kaaba, 
 and has kissed the paradise stone, now black with the sins 
 of mankind. The monotonous evolutions were simply sym 
 bolical of his own painful round 0f thought ; the darkened 
 stone was like the pendulum weight which time had hung 
 upon his heart. 
 
 He has ascended the Nile and wandered among the 
 picturesque ruins of Philae. Alone with the stupendous 
 
 * The Tigris and Euphrates take their source at the foot of Mount 
 Ararat, where Eden is supposed to have existed. (Gen. ii. 14.) 
 The Arabs have faith in the medicinal virtues of the Euphrates.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 181 
 
 past, he has striven to bury his individual lot amid the 
 wrecks of a million lives, only to realize with keener 
 pang that one living pain is mightier than a dead nation's 
 woe. 
 
 And then when he felt himself weary of wandering, 
 when, carrying his grief everywhere, he became accus 
 tomed to the burden, when he looked the long future in 
 the face and saw no brighter prospect, this disappointed 
 man began, as old men do, to live in the distant past. 
 His manhood was a blighted, hopeless thing; but back 
 in the past lay his childhood, a fair and sunny memory, 
 around which his tenderer thoughts might safely centre. 
 It seemed to him that he. could lie down and sleep peace 
 fully beneath the grand old trees which had sheltered 
 him after his boyish fatigues ; he fancied that the days 
 would be less long amid the familiar scenes where his 
 school vacations had sped so quickly ; he felt himself in 
 vigorated by the recollection of the sturdy independence 
 with which his father exercised sway over his household 
 and tenantry ; he dreamed of the repose that dwelt in the 
 blue eyes of his earliest playmate, eyes calm and un 
 demonstrative, but sisterly and true. 
 
 Yes, he would go home. There at least he would be 
 welcome. He would unite with his father in schemes of 
 usefulness ; he would put his hand in his sister's ; he 
 would make their fireside group complete, and they three 
 would, in mutual respect and love, walk life's path together. 
 
 Who says that fortune's arrows do not twice hit the 
 mark, that the lightning strikes but once in a single spot ? 
 History and experience both testify to the contrary, for 
 blow follows blow in a nation's career, and human hearts 
 seem ruptured only to pave the way for some fresh stroke. 
 
 Meredith had reached the sea-coast, and was about to
 
 182 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 embark, when he was checked, not by an earthquake, 
 not by a storm, but by one of those missives from afar 
 which have convulsed and shipwrecked many a life. O, 
 who is there that carries not for ever on his heart one of 
 those messengers of fate, with its " should have been " and 
 its " in vain." There was a sister's rebuke, mingling with 
 a sister's love, in the opening clause of the letter which 
 said, " Robei-t, you should have been here to close our 
 fathar's eyes ; " there was the devotedness and the grief 
 of a friend^ no less than of a servant, in the words of the 
 aged srewand). who took up the pen where the dying girl 
 had let it fall). and wrote with trembling hand on the self 
 same page, " master, dear young master, we did all we 
 could to save Miss Flora, but it was in vain." 
 
 Both dead ? Yes, both. The old man fell a prey to a 
 fierce distemper ; the faithful daughter watched beside him 
 to the last, took the disease, and she too died. 
 
 They have known little of grief who have never felt 
 remorse. Bitterly did Meredith realize this, as now, for 
 the first time in his life, the torturing iron of self-accusa 
 tion entered into his soul, and gave a tenfold edge to the 
 pang of bereavement. Death had glorified the departed, 
 but their death had revealed to him his true self in colors 
 darkened by an imaginative and morbid mind. 
 
 The father, whose prosaic ideas had always been at war 
 with his son's erratic tastes ; the country gentleman, from 
 whose tiresome social routine the heir of the estate had 
 held himself obstinately aloof; the county justice, whom 
 the young philosopher, had pitied as he beheld him year 
 after year balancing the petty details of right and wrong, 
 was remembered, now that the grave had covered him, as 
 the injured but indulgent parent, the hospitable upholder 
 of an ancient line, the cherished benefactor, over whose
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 183 
 
 ashes the humble throng would shed many a grateful 
 tear. The sister, who, moving in her little domestic sphere, 
 had led a life seemingly so uneventful as scarcely to need 
 a brother's sympathies, was imaged to him now as the se 
 rene soul who, for aught he knew, had maintained a greater 
 struggle with herself than any he had been called on to 
 endure, who, consecrating her youth to the happiness of 
 home, had perhaps lived a heroine, who certainly had 
 died a martyr. . " 
 
 And what was he who was now left, the sole- representa 
 tive of their heritage and their good name ? - A renegade 
 and a traitor, a man who, deaf to the admonitions of con 
 science, had wounded the hearts that loved him, had for 
 saken the holiest duties, had met the punishment that was 
 his desert, and had been scourged at last into a recollection 
 of nature's claims only to learn that it was too late, and 
 that those claims must forever remain unfulfilled. 
 
 It is easier for the generous and sensitive nature to en 
 dure grief than to be conscious of having entailed it upon 
 others. Stoicism and philosophy may avail in the one case, 
 in the other they are powerless. Meredith's spirit was far 
 more crushed by the sense of the irremediable wrong he 
 had done, than by the anguish he was called upon to suffer. 
 It was not the contrition of the religious soul, but it was the 
 natural humiliation of the proud heart which has been 
 outdone in filial love and manly self-sacrifice. It was not 
 submission, but it resulted in a prostration of self as utter 
 and entire as that which has its source in Christian humil 
 ity. It was not trust ; it was helplessness. 
 
 Nor was his grief at Havilah's coldness any longer 
 what it had been. Not that this grief had been banished 
 by the influx of a fresh tide of misfortunes, but its charac 
 ter was essentially changed. He no longer rebelled against
 
 184 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 it as a cruel destiny. He accepted it rather as a penance. 
 "With a remorseful sense of his own ill-deserts, he could 
 almost welcome his punishment; he knew that present 
 pain could not retrieve the past, but he nevertheless ac 
 cepted it with the instinctive hope that it might to some 
 degree atone for it. 
 
 It was in this spirit that he wrapped himself in sorrow, 
 as in a mantle of sackcloth, and bowed his head to the 
 strokes of fate as meekly as the monks of old bowed to 
 receive their own self-torturing flagellations. It was in 
 this spirit that he left Sidon, whence he had intended 
 to set sail for England, and alone and on foot made his 
 way to the solitary castle of Esh-Shukif. It was in this 
 spirit that he had wandered for days among the ruins, 
 startling the peasant by the fixedness of his attitude, 
 affrighting the children by the long-drawn sighs that 
 echoed through aisle and corridor, and exciting the won 
 der of the rude populace, who watched the afflicted man 
 standing on the watch-tower with face uplifted as if in 
 appeal to Heaven. 
 
 It would have been well for him if his appeal had been 
 to Heaven. But it was not. Look at him now. His gaze 
 wanders over earth, sea, and sky, like that of some lost 
 wayfarer who has ascended to a lofty post of observa 
 tion hoping to gain sight of the missing track. Whither 
 shall he go ? For that is indeed the question he is striv 
 ing to settle. We congratulate ourselves that the world 
 is wide, and boast of our individual independence ; but few 
 men are so insignificant or so free that their actions can 
 continue long unquestioned, and our English exile is not 
 yet so forsaken of his kind that he can be suffered to 
 ruminate any longer in an old and ruinous castle, destitute 
 of all the comforts of civilized life. The British Consul
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 185 
 
 at Sidon, whose guest he has recently been, has become 
 anxious at his long absence. Abdoul, still in Meredith's 
 service, and left in charge of his effects, has confessed to 
 some suspicion of his intended pilgrimage to the fortress, 
 and has been sent in search of him. The young Arab 
 has followed skilfully on his master's route, has this day 
 arrived at the castle, bringing with him horses, sumpter 
 mules, and other travelling equipments. He has announced 
 himself and his errand, has stabled the weary animals, and, 
 while waiting further orders, has fallen asleep in one of 
 the deserted stalls. It only remains now for Meredith to 
 decide upon his future course. 
 
 It is sunset, and nature lies spread out before him like a 
 gilded map. He turns around and faces the different points 
 of the compass ; but no beckoning hand is held out from any 
 quarter. The great mountains of the north seem to frown 
 upon him ; he can almost feel Jhe hot sun of the south beat 
 ing on his brow ; on the east lies an untrodden desert ; he 
 fancies, as he bends a listening ear towards the west, that he 
 can hear the sea whispering solemn dirges. Can either 
 path be expected to lure the traveller ? The sun goes down. 
 Gray twilight overspreads the landscape. Lost in gloomy 
 apathy, the watchman on the tower gazes abstractedly on a 
 little cloud, the only spot on the otherwise cloudless blue. 
 It floats on and on, as if like himself it were the sport of 
 fate. It sails over his head, hovers a moment on the sum 
 mit of Jebel Rihan, then skirts the snowy crest of Hermon, 
 and at length pauses just above Lebanon, above the very 
 spot where nestles the little village of El Fureidis. The 
 sun has long been hid behind the horizon, and the trail of 
 light which the great lamp of day left behind it has almost 
 vanished ; but the little cloud, as if by some magnetic power, 
 gathers up and concentrates the scattered rays, glows awhile
 
 186 EL FUBETOIS. 
 
 in rosy brightness, then melts into the ether and dis 
 appears. 
 
 The mind that is subdued and weakened by suffering is 
 often guided by a shadow, and reads an omen in a cloud. 
 Meredith had unconsciously watched the airy wreath of 
 Tapor, as if it were about to furnish an index to his uncer 
 tainties. His pulse almost ceased beating as he saw it settle 
 over Lebanon. As it glowed in the red light, it seemed to 
 his excited fancy like a finger of fire pointing downwards. 
 As it faded away, he fancied it a messenger whose errand 
 was fulfilled. 
 
 Should he submit to its guidance? Should he follow 
 where it led ? Should he return to the spot of which he 
 could not think without a pang ? The profuse perspiration 
 which started to his brow betrayed a momentary conflict. 
 Had there been no such conflict, the fiery hand might per 
 haps have beckoned to him in vain. But in the very pain 
 that it cost him his morbid mind saw a reason for obedi 
 ence. It would be no joy to revisit the scene of his dis 
 appointment, it would be agony to witness Havilah in the 
 experience of that innocent happiness from which he was 
 forever shut out To see her thus, himself unseen, and then 
 depart alone, would be to drain the cup of bitterness to its 
 dregs. " Go, then," whispered the persecuting spirit of 
 self-reproach ; and passively yielding to the imaginary man 
 date, Meredith resolved to perform unshrinkingly this fur 
 ther act of penance which destiny seemed to demand of him. 
 "Was there something sophistical and false in this mental 
 verdict ? Was there all the while a more secret whisper 
 still, which invited him to return to El Fureidis, a strange 
 fascination which lured him thither in spite of contemplated 
 pain ? We may not telL It is sufficient that, if so, he was 
 himself deceived, and that never did devotee pledge himself
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 187 
 
 to the performance of a sacred pilgrimage with more super 
 stitious zeal, than that with which Meredith rowed to laj 
 this final act of self-sacrifice on the atoning altar. 
 
 Decision of purpose instilled into him new life. He 
 descended from the tower and crossed the court-yard in 
 haste, a3 if fearing his resolution might fail him. His 
 horse knew his master's step and neighed, thus guiding 
 him to the spot where Abdoul lay sleeping. " Wake, Ab- 
 doul ! " exclaimed Meredith, tapping the youth on the 
 shoulder. " Secure your mules," and he pointed to one 
 which had escaped from its tethering ring. "Feed and 
 groom the horses well We have a three days' journey 
 before us, for to-morrow we start for El Fureidis."
 
 188 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 IT was at the close of a sultry April day that our travel 
 lers once more approached El Fureidis. Here and there 
 a familiar object close to the bridle-path indicated their 
 vicinity to the village, but no glimpse of church or hamlet 
 cheered their gaze, or encouraged their weary animals to 
 speed, for every distant object was veiled beneath a thick 
 cloud of mist. Their journey had been shorter than on 
 the preceding days, and neither men nor horses had been 
 exposed to any extraordinary fatigue. And yet the riders 
 bent in their saddles, the tired steeds stretched their necks, 
 and, at times, almost refused to proceed ; even the trees 
 overhead and the flowers that lined the road hung their 
 leaves listlessly, as if deprived of life and motion. 
 
 All nature drooped, for the sirocco was abroad, that blast 
 ing wind which brings with it a thick atmosphere, covers 
 the sky with vapor, and saps the vitality alike of the animal 
 and vegetable world. So noxious is the effect of this visita 
 tion, that one needs not to be the owner of a mulberry plan 
 tation or an olive orchard to dread its fatal influence. The 
 husbandman and the vine-dresser may have most reason, 
 indeed, to mourn over their blighted harvests ; but during 
 the prevalence of the sirocco, the mental and physical de 
 pression consequent upon it is almost universal. 
 
 Meredith required no such climatic agency to shroud his 
 spirits in gloom ; but its action upon his muscular system
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 189 
 
 was palpable, and his whole frame was enervated as if sick 
 ness were creeping over him, while Abdoul's eye lost its 
 accustomed fire, and in unresisting feebleness he bent over 
 his saddle-bow, until his head almost rested upon the neck 
 of his mare. The stillness, too, was oppressive. It would 
 have been refreshing to catch some natural sound, some 
 thing which might betoken a welcome. But all nature was 
 silent. The Syrian peasant usually sings cheerily at his 
 work ; but not only was the ploughman's voice unheard, the 
 plough itself seemed to be forsaken. Even when the travel 
 lers had gained the precincts of the village, and its cottages 
 were glimmering through the haze, one might almost have 
 believed that a deep sleep had fallen upon the place, the 
 stillness was so unbroken. But all do not sleep, for hark ! 
 surely there is the sound of the bell. Yes, the church-bell, 
 and it is not the Sabbath. Is it the density of the atmos 
 phere which makes the sound so muffled ? is it faintness of 
 heart which makes it seem to the listener so hollow, fune 
 real, and cold ? No, it is the tolling bell, and the convent 
 bell tolls too, and across the opposite valley comes the toll 
 of some other sympathetic chime. 
 
 And what is that just glimmering through the fog, and 
 gliding ghost-like around the tower of the church ? How 
 noiselessly it moves on, like some opaque mass, borne along 
 by the mist ! how like a long, dark wreath of smoke it 
 winds up the curving pathway, and melts into the distance ! 
 It is difficult to distinguish any object in the dim procession, 
 but now and then the fog lifts a little, and the floating body 
 takes substance and form. What a contrast does it present 
 to the bridal train which, only a few months ago, made the 
 village gay with its music, its shouts, and its decorations 
 glistening in the sunshine ! Now one may see, darkly as 
 through a cloud, figures that "move slowly, keeping time to
 
 190 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 the tolling bell ; here the hazy opening discloses a band of 
 sturdy artisans, strong-limbed and firm, marching gravely in 
 single file. A group of children follow, huddled together, 
 clinging to each other's hands, and looking back over their 
 shoulders ; they watch the approach of an old man, who, 
 with bare head and snowy locks, precedes a company of rus 
 tic youths, moving in double line, and bending as if in their 
 midst they bore a burden. A strongly-built man and a frail 
 girl come next ; he totters, but she moves like one who 
 treads the clouds beneath her feet ; he leans heavily on her 
 arm, but she bears him bravely up : it is the weak support 
 ing the strong. Sweeping robes and white veils mingle 
 with the fog, as the village matrons in their turn file past, 
 the muslin folds that hang suspended from their tall tantours 
 falling heavily, like the melancholy sails which in a calm at 
 sea cling idly to the masts. Dark and sombre is the column 
 that brings up the rear of this sad procession. It consists 
 of the Maronite friars, whose withered faces, black robes, 
 and monkish cowls, no less than their dejected air, make 
 them worthy representatives of the mournful scene in which 
 they bear a part. 
 
 Seated upright in T&is saddle, at the point where he and 
 Abdoul had made a simultaneous halt, Meredith gazed upon 
 this shadowy panorama with the bewilderment of one in a 
 trance, until, as the last figure in the train disappeared, leav 
 ing a blank behind it, the Englishman Avas roused by a 
 sharp cry, succeeded by a deep guttural sob. He turned 
 suddenly round, just in time to catch sight of his Arab com 
 panion, from whom the outburst of distress had proceeded, 
 and who at the same instant had slipped from his horse, and, 
 indifferent to the fate of the beast, had darted away in 
 the direction that the villagers had taken. The wailing 
 cry of the boy and his rapid flight sent conviction to the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 191 
 
 otherwise doubtful mind of Meredith. Like one believing 
 himself in a horrid dream, and finding it a reality, he made 
 haste to imitate the youth's example, and, wrapped in the 
 voluminous folds of a meshlak, and hidden by the fog, he in 
 a few moments found himself one of the throng that were 
 gathered around the grave of lanthe. " Earth to earth, 
 ashes to ashes, dust to dust," said the aged preacher, while 
 the young men lowered the coffin. His voice, though sub 
 dued, was sonorous and clear. It filled the space around 
 Ayn el Bered, near which lanthe had asked to be laid ; it 
 could be heard by the outermost in the ring gathered 
 about the freshly dug grave. But few realized the sense of 
 the words, few watched the solemn act of the young men, for 
 all eyes were turned in anxious pity on the master. As the 
 first shovelful of earth fell with heavy sound, he started fotv 
 ward, exclaiming in a tone of moaning and expostulation : 
 " No, no, I cannot leave her here, tell them to stop. She 
 cannot sleep in the cold ground." 
 
 He would have interrupted the labor, but a tender hand 
 restrained him. " Hush, dear ! hush ! " a persuasive voice 
 at the same time whispered in his ear. " She will not sleep ; 
 she will wake in the beautiful heav#0| 
 
 " I loved her, O how I loved her ! " he murmured ; 
 " how can they take her away from me ? " and he broke 
 into a prolonged cry, much like that of an infant. 
 
 " Don't cry, father, don't cry," said Havilah, in a beseech 
 ing tone, at the same time drawing him close to her. She 
 had mounted a rough stone at the foot of the fountain, so 
 that, as she put her arm around his neck, his head rested on 
 her shoulder, and her mouth was close to his ear. " Re 
 member what she said to you," continued the encouraging 
 voice, the service meanwhile going forward uninterrupted 
 by the half-articulate dialogue between father and child,
 
 192 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " remember what she said : ' Bear it like a man, Augustine, 
 bear it like a man, and the Lord will help you.' " 
 
 " 0, she said many things," said the mourner, in a piteous 
 tone, " many things, and all her words were kind ; but 
 she will never speak to me again. Why need they put her 
 under the ground? She did not look as if she were dead." 
 And he once more endeavored to break from Havilah's hold, 
 and interrupt what seemed to him the cruel work of burial. 
 
 " Don't leave me, dear," said Havilah, soothingly, and 
 laying her cheek against his ; " we will stand here together, 
 and be very quiet, and listen to what the good father says. 
 There, that is right. Hark ! now he is telling us of Jesus, 
 the compassionate one, the Comforter." 
 
 The poor man stood still and listened ; but he heard only 
 the sound of the falling clods, and his tempest of sorrow, 
 lulled for an instant, burst forth again with renewed vehe 
 mence. Every moaning wave, however, broke upon her 
 breast; her breath assuaged the storm; and now by the 
 force of a loving word, now by the power of a will superior 
 to his own, she contrived to hold his spirit in check, until the 
 grave was filled and the service ended. 
 
 The young men took up the empty bier and turned to 
 depart. The crowd held back and hesitated, waiting for the 
 bereaved husband and child to precede them ; but M. La- 
 pierre, who foresaw some difficulty in withdrawing M. Tre 
 foil from the spot, made a sign to the villagers to move on in 
 advance. They went as they came, the Maronite monks 
 last. The convent group had been respectfully allotted the 
 space close around the grave. Their knees shook, and their 
 long beards were sprinkled with the tears that fell from 
 their dimmed eyes, as they perambulated the mound of earth, 
 and sealed the ritual, each with his muttered Ace. In this 
 mountain-seat of religious freedom, none dreamed of ex-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 193 
 
 pressing disapprobation of their prayers, even by a look, as 
 no sacrilegious hand had ventured to remove the rude cross, 
 mutual emblem of faith, which the Superior had dropped 
 upon the coffin. The simple fathers came in charity, and 
 would fain leave behind them a blessing. 
 
 M. Trefoil leaned forward with a stupefied air, and 
 watched the motions of the retreating company. Havilah's 
 countenance, meanwhile, was that of one who is invoking 
 aid in view of some difficult task. 
 
 " Come, now ! " she said, gently, when all but the pastor 
 of the flock had vanished down the pathway, "come!" 
 and she held out her hand to her father. 
 
 " Come where ? " and he looked at her with a vacant 
 eye. 
 
 " Home," she faltered ; " see, they have all gone home." 
 
 " No, not all," he answered, in the tone of a grieved 
 child. " She has not gone," and he pointed to the grave ; 
 " it will not be home without her. Don't let us go there," 
 he added, beseechingly, "let us stay here with her, Ha- 
 vilah, you and I." 
 
 " She is not here, dear," said Havilah ; " we can hardly 
 see the grave now through the thick fog. We will go and 
 sit in her room, where her couch is. It will seem then as 
 if we saw her and heard her speak. I will sing you the 
 evening song. Do you remember she used to say, ' Havi 
 lah will sing the evening song to you, Augustine, when /am 
 gone ? ' I always sang it at sunset, you know. Come, or it 
 will be too late." 
 
 He glanced at the western sky, put his hand trustingly in 
 hers, but seemed unwilling to move from the spot. 
 
 " Who will take care of her ? " he muttered, " if I leave 
 her here alone ? Will Father Lapierre stay and watch 
 beside her, as he used to do ? " and he anxiously scanned 
 9 M
 
 194 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 the face of the pastor, who approached with the view of aid 
 ing Havilah's persuasive efforts. 
 
 " She does not need him any more," said Havilah, in a 
 confident tone. " She always wished that her body might 
 sleep at Ayn el Bered, and her spirit is safe in' the bosom of 
 the Almighty Father. "We will come here again to-mor 
 row, when perhaps the sun will be shining on the place ; 
 but we must go home now. See ! Father Lapierre is wait 
 ing for us ; and good Father Lapierre is tired." 
 
 They led him away. Now and then he looked back as if 
 reluctant to proceed. Once he stopped, sat down on a step 
 in the rocky pathway, and covered his face with his hands ; 
 but they were patient with him, and lured him gently on, 
 through the village and beyond the mulberry orchard, to 
 experience in his home the bitter desolation of those who 
 have burried their dead out of their sight. 
 
 But the grave was not deserted yet. A tall figure, 
 wrapped in a cloak, emerged from behind the clumsy ma 
 sonry of the fountain, and he who had stood sentry for many 
 a night at Castle Belfort now paced up and down beside the 
 newly-made grave, like one set there to watch. 
 
 And when the darkness had become blackness, and the 
 fog had shut close down upon the earth, and the Englishman 
 had departed to seek shelter for the night, it seemed only as 
 if he had been relieved at his post ; for, as his retreating 
 footstep died away, a lithe form darted from the thicket, and 
 threw itself, face downwards, upon the damp grave, which 
 it strove to embrace in its long arms. And there, with 
 turban drawn low over his head, and body stretched on the 
 narrow bed of earth, the son of Ishmael mourned with 
 frantic grief over the friend and comforter of his child 
 hood ; wearying the night with a shrill, pitiful cry, like that 
 to which the camel of the desert gives utterance when its 
 burden is greater than it can bear.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 195 
 
 Meredith had journeyed to El Fureidis like one bent on 
 a purpose. This purpose, however, had found its fulfilment 
 in the moment of his arrival ; for beyond this, he had formed 
 no plan, even in his thought, leaving himself wholly to the 
 direction of impulse, or, as he would perhaps have termed it, 
 destiny. 
 
 Nor, trusting to guidance, did he find himself disap 
 pointed. His best conceived plan of action would doubtless 
 have been frustrated by the unforeseen calamity which had 
 plunged the neighborhood into mourning ; but in the circum 
 stances attendant upon this event, a course had suggested 
 itself less open to objection than any that might otherwise 
 have occurred to him. 
 
 He would not have intruded upon his friends on any 
 terms, much less in their hour of sorrow ; he could not 
 haunt the village as a spy ; to betray his presence to the 
 peasantry would be to expose himself at once to those hos 
 pitable solicitations which he was anxious to avoid ; but as 
 he reviewed the retreating band of mourners, his eye 
 marked one who combined all the requisites he desired in 
 a host, and he unhesitatingly resolved to follow the little 
 company of Maronite friars, and seek to be installed as the 
 guest of the convent Superior. In the sacred retreat of the 
 monastery he would find repose and privacy; morning might 
 reveal the news of his return, but he should be beyond the 
 reach of curiosity or comment. Abdoul even would be 
 ignorant of his hiding-place ; and here, a recluse among re 
 cluses, he might, himself unseen, overlook the village of El 
 Fureidis, and from time to tune gain tidings of his afflicted 
 friends. 
 
 Had he known how impenetrable the fog would become 
 at nightfall, he would have realized the importance of fol 
 lowing close upon the footsteps of the brethren ; but disre-
 
 196 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 garding this obstacle to mountain travel, he lingered, as we 
 have seen, at the grave, then made a wide circuit to avoid 
 passing through the village, and when he finally turned into 
 the pathway leading down the wady, the darkness and the 
 mist were such that he could not distinguish a single step in 
 advance. The path was familiar, however, for he had trod 
 it many times since the day of his first excursion to the con 
 vent in the company of Havilah, and, undismayed by the 
 night and the fog, he pressed forward with a rapid step, and 
 gained the foot of the ravine in safety. But here his pro 
 gress was suddenly arrested. The little stream which Havi 
 lah had crossed dry-shod, increased by the winter rains and 
 the thawing of the snow on the mountains, had swelled into 
 a rapid and powerful torrent, many feet in depth, while the 
 cascade alone had become a heavy waterfall, which almost 
 deafened Meredith with its roar. It was impossible to cross 
 the flood as formerly. Even had its depth been less, the 
 force of the current would have swept him away, and he 
 was reluctantly compelled to abandon the attempt. He 
 now bethought him of a small stone-arched bridge, located 
 higher up the stream ; and following the noise of the 
 rushing water, and making his way as well as he could 
 through the tangled brushwood on the banks, he toiled 
 on for more than an hour, and at length gained the de 
 sired point As he placed his foot on the bridge he felt 
 it totter beneath him ; he drew back and hesitated for a mo 
 ment He knew by the sound, that the water, the surface 
 of whose channel was ordinarily many feet beneath the spot 
 where he stood, had risen to a height equal to that of the 
 bridge. He could even hear the waves now and then 
 dashing over the rough logs which were placed transversely 
 across the arch, and constituted the flooring of the struc 
 ture. It was an unpleasant crisis, but there seemed to
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 197 
 
 him no alternative, and he resolved to risk the passage. 
 His first step reassured him. The wood-work, it was 
 true, heaved with the pressure of the flood, but the sup 
 ports were evidently firm. Unconscious of danger, he had 
 nearly gained the opposite bank when he encountered an 
 insidious pitfall, bringing down his foot at the point where 
 a single log had been displaced and carried down the stream. 
 One leg was instantly immersed in the cold torrent, the other 
 barely escaped being fractured by the shock, and the whole 
 man was violently precipitated against the rock-lined shore. 
 With some difficulty he recovered his footing, and clam 
 bered up the bank. At the same instant a severe twinge, 
 from wrist to shoulder, convinced him of some serious in 
 jury to his right arm, which had received the full force of 
 his fall. 
 
 Painfully now did he struggle forward. The water had 
 splashed over his whole person, and drenched him to the 
 skin ; his hat had been carried down the stream, and the 
 pain of his wounded limb became every moment more 
 intense. The power of his will, however, was in no degree 
 weakened. It borrowed strength rather from his physical 
 sufferings. He felt himself disabled. He really longed for 
 rest and shelter. It was a satisfaction to long for anything, 
 and the motive spurred him on. With his left arm he 
 parted the thick shrubbery ; the hair of his bare head now 
 and then became entangled in the brushwood ; his clothes 
 were torn ; but he retraced his course down the stream to 
 the usual fording-place in safety, struck into the direct path 
 to the convent, and at length caught sight of a light which 
 glimmered within the court-yard, and, reflected in the fog, 
 guided him in safety to the portal. 
 
 It was with difficulty that he gained admittance. Visitors 
 at the monastery, unusual at all times, were unknown at
 
 198 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 this hour of the night, and it was only after repeated knock- 
 ings that he made himself heard. Even then the entrance 
 was cautiously unbarred ; nor did old Ambrose dare present 
 himself alone ; and when the gate at last vibrated slowly on 
 its hinges, and disclosed a few inches of space, no less than 
 three withered faces peered through the narrow aperture. 
 The monks had prudently left a door of communication 
 open between themselves and the other brethren, and the 
 light from the inner court-yard fell full on the face of Mere 
 dith ; but, disguised as he was by his torn garments, the 
 pallor of his complexion, his dishevelled hair, and the un 
 natural manner in which he was compelled to carry his 
 bruised arm, they wholly failed to recognize him, and would 
 have shut the door in his face had he not made haste to 
 reassure them by the words in which he craved their 
 hospitality. 
 
 u The blessed Lady Mary have compassion on us ! " cried 
 'Father Ambrose, as his dull ear caught the Saxon accent, 
 " it is the Englishman ! " And immediately the gate was 
 suffered to swing wide, six bony hands were simultaneously 
 extended for the guest's reception, and with a profusion of 
 blessings and welcomes the friars ushered the traveller 
 within the portal. 
 
 Dreary as the old stone court-yard might look at noon 
 on a summer's day, it presented now to the wayfarer, who 
 contrasted it only with the cold and darkness which he had 
 left behind him, a cheering picture of warmth and comfort. 
 A fire of logs blazed in the centre, and sent forth a ruddy 
 glow upon the faces of the fraternity, whose benches were 
 drawn in a circle around their primitive hearthstone, and 
 who, leisurely smoking their pipes, were engaged mean 
 while in congenial intercourse. It is true, their theme was 
 a sad one, for they discoursed of lanthe; but they had
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 199 
 
 almost forgotten present sorrow in pleasing reminiscences 
 of the past, and all had the attitude of men reposing 
 after the fatigues of the day. They rose simultaneously as 
 Ambrose announced their guest, and the Superior, coming 
 forward with alacrity, greeted Meredith as a father might 
 greet a son returned from his wanderings. 
 
 " Have you a vacant cell, good father ? " asked Meredith, 
 " and a place in your fold for one who is astray upon the 
 mountains ? " 
 
 " The best that we have is yours," responded the Su 
 perior, promptly, at the same time heaping wood upon the 
 fire, as he observed the Englishman's shivering condition. 
 " You have met with disaster ; you have been in peril from 
 the freshet; you have injured your arm," affirmed the 
 Superior, gravely, as his eye ran over Meredith's person. 
 " We must undertake your cure. It is a part of our office." 
 
 " I place myself wholly in your hands," answered Mere 
 dith, " and will begin, as in duty bound, by confession." 
 
 He then related, in a few words, his adventures since 
 leaving the village. The monks gathered round, peeping 
 over each other's shoulders, and expressing commiseration, 
 especially at sight of the wounded arm, which the Superior 
 bared upon the spot. As Meredith finished his tale, and 
 stood silently looking on while the Father examined the 
 sprain, and felt the already swollen and discolored flesh, the 
 convent brethren dispersed in different directions, each on 
 the alert to perform such hospitable office as belonged to 
 his peculiar department. One brought soothing herbs, and 
 bruised them under the direction of his chief; another has 
 tened to procure dry garments ; a third uncorked a bottle 
 of choice vino d'oro ; a fourth prepared a simple meal of 
 wheaten cakes, dibs, and lentils ; and ere an hour had 
 elapsed he found himself seated among the venerable circle,
 
 200 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 clad in the simple garb of their order, refreshed by convent 
 fare, and, saving his youthful features, and the arm that 
 hung in a sling, scarcely distinguishable from the mem 
 bers of the fraternity. 
 
 Less in awe of their visitor than formerly, and encour 
 aged perhaps by his exterior conformity with themselves, 
 the simple fathers even ventured to resume their discourse. 
 The theme was still lanthe. Each had some tale to tell of 
 her kindness, her forethought, and the wonderful cures she 
 had effected ; and as Meredith listened to these memorial 
 tales, the outpouring of grateful hearts, and called up simi 
 lar reminiscences of his own, he almost believed himself 
 one with these ancient relics of humanity, the oil of whose 
 life was nearly spent, who dwelt in the annals of the 
 past, ignored all hopes of worldly advantage, and patiently 
 awaited their end. 
 
 He felt that such serenity would be cheaply purchased 
 at the sacrifice of whatever earthly aspirations remained to 
 him ; and, for the time at least, was glad to feel the world 
 shut out, and to dream a dream of contentment, sad indeed, 
 but sure.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WE have surprised the little Maronite community in 
 the enjoyment of a leisure hour; but such was far from 
 being the usual tenor of their lives. Daylight of the next 
 morning found them scattered, and laboring in their different 
 vocations ; and when Meredith issued from his cell, the court 
 yard was deserted, and silence reigned throughout the mon 
 astery. The Superior, it is true, had lingered to inspect 
 and dress his guest's injured arm, and to serve the frugal 
 breakfast which the humbler brethren had left ready in 
 the refectory ; but these hospitable duties completed, he 
 lost no time in setting forth to the farm lands below the 
 convent, where his aid was required in sowing the vege 
 table garden which constituted the principal subsistence 
 of the household. 
 
 Meredith, the only idler about the place, could no longer 
 indulge the illusion which had linked him as an associate 
 in the fraternal band. "With his customary dress he had 
 resumed his customary sense of isolation, and was at lib 
 erty to indulge in undisturbed reverie, with no companions 
 but his own sad thoughts. 
 
 These thoughts, however, if not less bitter, were some 
 what diverted by sympathy in the affliction which had 
 befallen the family of M. Trefoil ; the pain in his arm, 
 which had forbidden sleep at night, and could not be 
 ignored by day, was a welcome antagonist to mental tortur- 
 9*
 
 202 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ings ; the unobtrusive and paternal guardianship of the 
 friars was soothing to one who had been so long a wan 
 derer ; and his melancholy, though severe and settled, took 
 a more placid tone. 
 
 He even found a vacant sort of contentment in watching 
 the monks at their work. As day after day wore monot 
 onously on, he came to feel a mechanical interest in the 
 petty toils and plans of the community in which he lived. 
 With absent-minded accuracy he counted the furrows which 
 the ploughman accomplished daily, the rows of beans 
 which the Superior planted, the number of mulberry- 
 trees which were sprouting in the orchard. The ringing 
 of the refectory and vesper bells divided and marked the 
 slow morning hour agreeably, and there was a satisfaction 
 in seeing men and animals resting after their toils. 
 
 But all these things were subordinate to the more en 
 grossing interest afforded by the vicinity of El Fureidis. 
 The overseeing of the convent labors might well be an 
 abstract process ; for beyond the mountain gorge lay the 
 hamlet to which Meredith's imagination continually roved, 
 and concerning which he indulged in endless speculations. 
 
 He could not catch a glimpse of the villa, for the bud 
 ding mulberry orchard lay between ; he could not see the 
 stream of factory people going to and from then: work, 
 for the call-bell was now silent and their tasks suspended. 
 He could not even detect a familiar acquaintance among 
 the peasantry, for the distance was too great for the recog 
 nition of features, and in costume there was no variety. 
 He believed he could not be mistaken in the form and 
 dress of Havilah ; but if so, she never once came within 
 the range of his vision. 
 
 Still she was there. It was her home, -f- he was near 
 to her. He was satisfied^
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 203 
 
 Was this then the penance he had prescribed for him 
 self? No! for Havilah was unhappy, she was motherless, 
 and so the penance was annulled. 
 
 Sometimes his dreamy acquiescence in his present lot 
 gave place to an intense longing for further tidings of 
 his afflicted friends ; but this yearning was as often coun 
 terbalanced by the dread of abandoning his present place 
 of concealment. Under ordinary circumstances he could 
 have obtained the desired information through one of the 
 brethren, who might have been intrusted on a secret mis 
 sion of inquiry; but the fording-place was, as we have 
 seen, impassable, the bridge by which Meredith crossed 
 had been since swept away by the flood, the water was 
 rushing down the gorge with increasing violence, and all 
 communication between the convent and the village was 
 suspended. 
 
 This latter circumstance, however, presenting as it did a 
 natural barrier to Meredith's wishes, proved also an irre 
 sistible incentive to his resolute, defiant temperament, which 
 was always excited by obstacles. The roaring of the 
 water in the gorge sounded to him like a perpetual chal 
 lenge. It first excited him to meditation, then to resolve, 
 and finally to action. 
 
 " The bridge must be repaired immediately," was his im 
 pulsive comment upon the report that the stone arch had, 
 together with the logs, been swept away by the current. 
 
 " Impossible, my son, so long as the freshet continues," 
 was the grave reply of the Superior. " I have never seen 
 the stream so high and strong ; there is no knowing to what 
 degree it may rise, and nothing can resist its force." 
 
 " We will see," thought Meredith ; and he immediately 
 started off to inspect the spot. 
 
 His survey confirmed the Superior's opinion. The abut-
 
 204 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ments of the old bridge were dislodged, and the shelving 
 banks afforded no facility for founding a new structure ; but 
 some other point on the stream might prove more available, 
 and, with increased determination to renew the broken link, 
 he followed up the abrupt windings of the current. 
 
 Even Nature seems to lend herself in aid of a resolute 
 will. At a sharp angle in the gorge an immense boulder 
 had been swept from its rocky foundation, and precipitated 
 into the current, where it rested firmly, forming a wedge 
 between the intercepted waters, which were thus narrowed 
 to such a degree that a couple of logs suspended from either 
 bank and supported by this central pier would constitute a 
 tolerable foot-bridge. 
 
 Meredith's sagacious eye at once recognized these advan 
 tages, and one moment sufficed him for the forming of his 
 scheme and preparing to put it in execution. He could 
 be only a director in the work ; for, owing either to the 
 severity of his recent injury, or the ignorance of his surgeon, 
 the suffering in his arm was almost intolerable, and now, 
 at the end of a week, the limb was stiffened and useless. 
 But he had plenty of that which will buy other men's 
 strength, and, the practicability of his plan being made evi 
 dent to the Superior, the latter willingly overlooked the 
 claims of the convent farm in view of the Englishman's 
 gold, and men and steers were at once drafted for his 
 service. For two days Meredith's mind was engrossed 
 in the hewing of the logs, dragging them to the banks, 
 affixing them in the requisite position, and securing them 
 at either extremity. 
 
 His purpose was at length accomplished. What then? 
 Should he avail himself of the fruits of his zeal? His 
 labor finished, and the means of retreat at his command, 
 what was there to prevent his crossing and paying a visit to 
 the village ?
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 205 
 
 The opportunity was in itself a temptation. He surely 
 had not built his bridge for nothing. He could not go home 
 and rest satisfied with this trifling success. Moreover, it 
 was nearly night ; the moon was at the full, the sky clear. 
 There would be light to guide him and shadows to conceal. 
 The impulse was altogether irresistible ; and while the half- 
 dozen comparatively able-bodied friars who had been skilful 
 and willing assistants in his work gathered up their tools 
 and returned to the convent, he cut a stout walking-stick 
 from a straight-limbed tree and set off in an opposite di 
 rection. 
 
 Never since M. Trefoil commenced his work of improve 
 ment had El Fureidis looked so lovely as on this night. 
 Each terrace was a spring garden of vegetation. The rough 
 walls that sustained the gigantic staircase of earth were 
 overgrown with moss or festooned with vines. The white 
 cottages, perched one above another, seemed to swing in the 
 moonlight that came flickering through the trees. Roughly 
 constructed but abundant fountains were in full play, and 
 foaming cascades were streaming over projecting cliffs, and 
 finding channels for themselves in every hollow. The noise 
 of these busy, hurrying waterfalls would have disturbed a 
 stranger ; but their music was at this season familiar to the 
 dwellers on the Lebanon, and had hushed them all to their 
 early slumbers. 
 
 It was scarcely nine o'clock in the evening, and yet 
 Meredith found himself patrolling the village alone. There 
 was but little fear that his solitary step would disturb the 
 sound sleep of this hard-working population ; still he trod the 
 rocky pathway with the cautious, measured pace of one 
 who fears to meet with some unwelcome interruption. His 
 countenance, too, wore that expression of mysterious awe 
 which creeps over one who finds himself a stranger in a
 
 206 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 place which is everywhere invested with familiar associa 
 tions. 
 
 His thoughts were with the old man and his child. He 
 was wondering (he had done little but wonder thus for many 
 days) whether he still looked so crushed and broken, 
 whether she was still sustaining a double burden, and wear 
 ing that face of constrained but heroic fortitude. He longed 
 to approach the villa, he felt as if its stone walls could 
 not hide what he was so eager to know, as if there would 
 be something in its very aspect which would whisper an 
 answer to his heart. 
 
 Still there was something which held him back, a cer 
 tain shrinking within himself, a certain sense of banish 
 ment and repulsion, which made the precincts of Havilah's 
 home seem to him like forbidden ground. So he went 
 wandering round the village, perambulating the successive 
 terraces, climbing up to Ayn el Bered, peering into the deep 
 grotto just beneath the Falcon Perch, then descending to the 
 foot of the valley, and meditating awhile outside the door of 
 Father Lapierre's cottage. He met with no human obstacle, 
 yet he was continually interrupted. One element in nature 
 appeared to be running riot, and he encountered it at every 
 step. Whichever way he turned, he found his passage 
 opposed by some freshly-gushing spring, some intrusive 
 water-spout, some overflowing conduit or fountain. It 
 was impossible to escape a wet foot, so many little cur 
 rents crossed the path; equally impossible to preserve a 
 dry head, so many rocks and cottage roofs were drip 
 ping with moisture. There was water here, water there, 
 water everywhere. One could almost believe that the 
 white moonlight had melted into rain, and was flooding 
 the earth. 
 
 Meredith could not be unobservant of the mimic deluge.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 207 
 
 Now and then a slight exclamation escaped him, as his foot 
 sank in some natural water-trough ; nor, as he heard the 
 earth gurgling at every pore, could he help asking himself 
 whether, when the soil had drunk its fill, it might not be 
 swallowed up in its turn, and the village swept down the 
 mountain-side like lava. 
 
 "They know best, however," thought he, as he looked 
 down upon a group of sleepers on one of the flat house 
 tops. 
 
 " Happy, tired fellows ! Mother Nature soothes them 
 with dreams of plentiful harvests, while she herself is busy 
 watering their gardens. Why should I brood over them 
 like a spirit of evil, prognosticating mischief?" and he 
 walked away. 
 
 He approached the bridge that connected the village 
 with the factory-grounds and dwelling of M. Trefoil. He 
 was proceeding to cross it, when, looking up the stream, he 
 observed a circumstance which surprised him. Both the 
 factory and the olive-mill, a little lower down, were de 
 pendent upon the force of a natural fall, which leaped over 
 a projecting cliff a few rods above the bridge, and which 
 had its source in such an unfailing spring that it was sel 
 dom dry even at midsummer. Now, therefore, one might 
 have expected to find it swollen into a cataract of sufficient 
 volume to startle the ear by its roar. On the contrary, it 
 was silent ; the face of the cliff loomed gloomily up, un 
 touched by the moonlight, which shone brightly elsewhere, 
 and its bare surface blackened, not only by the depth of 
 shadow, but by a scanty sprinkling of water, which made 
 its way over the edge noiselessly, as if escaping from a 
 leak. 
 
 " Strange ! " thought Meredith, " that, when every other 
 water-course is overflowing, this should be dry ; " and, di-
 
 208 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 verted from his original purpose, he climbed the cliff to 
 discover some clew to the mystery. 
 
 An explanation presented itself in the form of a clumsy 
 wooden waste-gate, used for regulating the force of the fall, 
 and shutting off the water at all times, except when required 
 for manufacturing purposes. This barricade, always avail 
 able for economy of power, had been called into constant 
 use during the introduction of steam-engines into the fac 
 tory of M. Trefoil, an operation which involved the 
 necessity of having the mill-stream under control. 
 
 The last charge which M. Trefoil had given to his fore 
 man was to close the gate and keep it shut until further 
 orders. As, owing to the pressure of domestic calamity, 
 the master's superintendence had since been wanting at 
 the factory, his final direction continued in full force ; and 
 thus it happened that the stream was prevented from es 
 caping through its natural channel. 
 
 "An excellent agent, no doubt," thought Meredith, as 
 he observed how ineffectually the deep, pent-up waters 
 chafed against their barrier ; " but it seems a pity it should 
 be put in operation at a time when the superfluous floods 
 are everywhere demanding vent." 
 
 This opinion was still further strengthened, as he paced 
 along the margin of a broad, deep reservoir, just above the 
 dam of the fall, and observed the condition of the basin, 
 which was formed partly by a natural hollow in the moun 
 tain cleft, partly by clumsy barriers of masonry. At some 
 points the reservoir was already overflowing, and sending 
 its waters in deep gullies down the mountain-side ; at 
 others, its defences were evidently weak, and incapable of 
 long resisting the unusual pressure caused by the freshet. 
 Meredith had often shaken his wise English head as he 
 observed the imperfect masonry which constituted the arti-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 209 
 
 ficial portion of this barricade. He recollected having 
 introduced his cane into wide interstices in* its stone-work, 
 having marked a spot where the ill-made bricks of which it 
 was partially built had crumbled and mouldered away, and 
 having congratulated M. Trefoil that it never contained 
 more than a foot of water, its lower foundations being all 
 that were in any degree secure. 
 
 " Are these people mad ? " thought he, as he marked the 
 huge body of water, and fancied that he saw the reservoir 
 already yielding to the pressure. "They might as well 
 make their bed on the ocean's edge when the tide is com 
 ing in, as go to sleep and leave this old murderous giant 
 here, with his mouth open to devour them ! " he mentally 
 exclaimed, as, stooping down to examine a well-remembered 
 fracture in the stone-work, he found a steady stream gur 
 gling from the spot, and drenching the ground at his feet. 
 
 He looked around him to calculate the consequences of 
 the probable catastrophe. They seemed to him fearful, but 
 he had a natural dread of attaching importance to risks 
 which those more immediately concerned seemed to estimate 
 but lightly, and, resolving to await some further emergency 
 before sharing his alarm with any one, he made a careful 
 circuit of the reservoir and its immediate premises. 
 
 "It may stand through the night," said he to himself. 
 " It would be a pity to arouse the villagers, for what could 
 they do, after all ? If that waste-gate could be opened now, 
 it would drain the basin in less than an hour. If it were not 
 for endangering the works at the factory, I should be 
 tempted to lift it myself. How strange in M. Trefoil 
 how stupid in Asaad not to foresee this mischief! " 
 
 He had nearly retraced his steps to the edge of the cliff 
 over which he longed to see the water once more pouring, 
 when he was startled by a harsh, rumbling sound, and a 
 
 N
 
 210 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 vibration of the earth beneath him. For a moment he 
 became giddy, his feet tottered, and he was compelled to 
 grasp at the first support which offered itself. Then, as the 
 ground which had reeled and staggered like a drunken man, 
 stood still, he also recovered himself and stood still too ; but 
 for one instant only. As if fired by an impulse or a sudden 
 fear, he bounded forward like one rushing to a rescue. A 
 passing glance at the feeble walls of the reservoir served to 
 convince him that they still maintained their position in 
 spite of the shock ; then, without bestowing a look on any 
 other quarter, to observe the effects of the earthquake, he 
 diverged to the left of the stream, and made unhesitatingly 
 for the villa. It was but to run a few rods, leap down a 
 single terrace, gain the house-top of M. Trefoil, the rear end 
 of the roof so resting upon the hill-side as to render this the 
 easiest approach from above. Even at this critical moment 
 Meredith had sufficient presence of mind to realize that he 
 should but add to the alarm of the household, if he made his 
 appearance through the roof; so, avoiding the staircase, he 
 swung himself down by the aid of the trellis-work which ran 
 around the veranda, and thus alighted on the upper terrace 
 of the garden. 
 
 He sprang up the steps more hastily than ever before, 
 entered the saloon more precipitately. It was no time for 
 hesitation or apologies. At the same moment, as if she had 
 been running to greet him, Havilah came quickly from an 
 inner room, and they met in the centre of the apartment. 
 She held a lamp in her hand. Her white burnous draped 
 her form, the hood of the cloak was drawn over her head ; 
 her face was very pale ; in the dim light her figure looked 
 shadowy and ghost-like. The recognition between herself 
 and Meredith was instantaneous and mutual, but embarrass 
 ment had no place in the manner of either. Surprised
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 211 
 
 Havilah well might be, for she had received no intimation 
 that he was in the neighborhood ; but the question, " How 
 came you here ? " was but one among the many eager ques 
 tions which shone in her eyes, and which were all expressed 
 in the quick-breathed words, " What is it ? tell me ! " 
 
 She held out her hand, but it was in emphasis rather 
 than in welcome. He grasped it in his, but the grasp 
 seemed merely intended to give weight to the hasty reply, 
 " A land shock, I fear another. The reservoir is giv 
 ing way, the people are in danger ; and the factories 
 Your father, Havilah?" 
 
 " my poor father ! he is in such trouble ! " 
 
 " I know," said Meredith, " I know," the first "I 
 know " a mere affirmation, the second, a volume of ten 
 der sympathy. 
 
 "I am afraid you cannot rouse him. Can I do any 
 thing?" she said, with a brave look on her face, which 
 seemed to promise that she would do what she could. 
 
 " Yes, much, if you can only get his orders for me. 
 Where is he?" 
 
 " Here," and she opened the door into the inner room, 
 the winter room, which used to be lanthe's. 
 
 M. Trefoil was sitting on the couch where she used to sit, 
 and looking straight before him into vacancy. His elbows 
 rested on his knees, his hands supported his chin. He 
 betrayed no emotion whatever at sight of Meredith ; but as 
 the latter approached, and, seeing his condition, stood look 
 ing at him with dumb pity, the widowed man moved his 
 eyes slowly around the room as if seeking something, 
 then fixed them on his late guest, and said, just above a 
 whisper, " She 's gone ! " 
 
 Meredith had no word to utter in reply. He stood ap 
 palled in view of the present calamity, and almost forgot
 
 212 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 that other misfortune of which he was merely apprehen 
 sive. 
 
 I loved her ! I loved her ! " continued poor M. Trefoil, 
 speaking now to himself, and not even looking at the Eng 
 lishman ; " O how I loved her ! and she 's gone ! " 
 
 " Father," exclaimed Havilah, throwing herself on her 
 knees before him, taking his hands and holding them be 
 tween her own, " do you see who has come ? It is Mr. 
 Meredith. Do you know what brings him here ? " 
 
 " Is he looking for her ? " was the mysteriously whispered 
 reply. " Have you told him that she is not here ? " 
 
 "He did not expect to see her. He came to look for 
 you. He wants you to help him, we all want you. 
 There is trouble at the factory, they need the master. 
 Let us go." And she rose, pointed to the door, and made 
 a hasty movement in that direction, striving to entice him 
 by her example, as one would entice a child. 
 
 " Trouble ! What sort of trouble ? Is anybody dead ? " 
 
 " No, I hope not dead, but in danger. Perhaps we can 
 save them. O, think of them ! think of the poor people, 
 my mother's poor ! " and she laid her hand upon his shoul 
 der, and looked him beseechingly in the face. 
 
 He answered her look by a melancholy stare, then 
 dropped his head upon his hands, and broke forth in the 
 piteous cry : " Poor people ! yes, we are all poor peo 
 ple ; she took care of us all. There is nobody to take care 
 of us now. No matter what happens now, no matter, 
 no matter ! " and he continued to whimper forth the last 
 words, until they subsided into an indistinct muttering. 
 
 His form was bowed down, his face almost resting on his 
 knees, his whole attitude expressive of utter indifference to 
 future fate and fortune. Havilah glanced from him to Mer 
 edith, and shook her head despairingly. " It is of no use," 
 she signified by an inarticulate motion of her lips.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 213 
 
 " Has he been so ever since ? " whispered Meredith, 
 leaving his question unfinished ; for he saw that Havilah 
 understood his meaning. 
 
 She nodded mournfully in the affirmative, and, pointing 
 towards her father, indicated by a gesture her desire that 
 Meredith should himself undertake to rouse him from his 
 stupor of grief. 
 
 The young man cleared his voice, went forward, and ex 
 claimed with forced alacrity : " M. Trefoil, my friend, my 
 dear friend, do you know me ? have n't you a word of wel 
 come for a traveller ? " 
 
 The tone and question, striking fresh and clear upon the 
 torpid senses of M. Trefoil, imparted to them momentary 
 life and vigor. An intelligent look overspread his features, 
 memory asserted her power ; he suffered Meredith to grasp 
 his hand, and, slowly rising from his chair, was about to 
 address to him some coherent and earnest inquiry, when 
 suddenly the floor keeled like a ship in a heavy sea ; there 
 was a rumbling sound like distant thunder, succeeded by 
 the crash of falling stones, the frightened cry of startled 
 cattle, and the sudden whistling of the night-wind. The 
 old man tottered, looked around him like one bewildered, 
 then fell back into his chair, where he was at once encir 
 cled by the arms of his daughter, who, precipitated in that 
 direction, flung herself involuntarily upon her father's neck. 
 Meredith, thrown completely off his balance, was hurled 
 violently against the wall, and recovered himself only to 
 find his position reversed, and to stagger again into the 
 centre of the apartment, as a second undulation of the earth 
 caused the floor once more to vibrate. There was an awful 
 pause, a solemn stillness, all held their breath and listened ; 
 but the distant sounds died away, slighter pulsations agi 
 tated the room at intervals of some seconds, unaccompanied,
 
 214 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 however, by destructive noises, and at length the suspended 
 breath came freer, and each of the three occupants of the 
 apartment looked around, as if seeking to read in each 
 other's faces some confirmation of the belief that the shock 
 had for the present subsided. 
 
 " There is no time to be lost ! " cried Meredith, as the 
 conviction of present safety and future insecurity rushed 
 simultaneously to his mind. " There may not be another 
 shock," he added, addressing himself to Havilah, " but the 
 terrace walls are all undermined by the flood, the very hill 
 side may be washed away. We must not remain here a 
 moment." 
 
 Havilah looked anxiously at her father, whose eyes were 
 wandering inquiringly from the face of his child to that of 
 the Englishman. "Where can we take him?" she asked 
 hastily of Meredith. 
 
 "There is no danger on the mountain-top, if he had 
 strength to climb," said Meredith ; " or in the valley, there 
 are plenty of protected spots. M. Lapierre's cottage," he 
 exclaimed, as by a sudden impulse of thought, " that is 
 the place of all others ; it is cut in the very mountain-side ; 
 nothing can shake it from its foundations. Once there, you 
 and he are safe. But let us be gone ! " and, suiting the 
 action to the word, he drew M. Trefoil's arm determinately 
 within his and started towards the door. 
 
 Havilah caught up a cloak, threw it over her father, and 
 followed. 
 
 " Havilah ! " whimpered he, looking back over his shoul 
 der, with a fearful, shuddering expression, " Havilah ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I am coming too," she replied, making haste to 
 overtake and support him on the side opposite to Meredith. 
 
 " Where are we going, where ? " asked M. Trefoil 
 wildly, but suffering himself to be led across the threshold.
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 215 
 
 "To Father Lapierre's cottage, that is a safe place, you 
 know ; my mother bade us go to him for safety always." 
 
 " So she did ! so she did ! " said the old man in a tone of 
 ready assent ; and memory thus furnishing an impetus in 
 the way he was going, he shuffled clumsily and weakly, but 
 willingly, along. 
 
 Not only M. Trefoil's household, but the entire village, 
 was by this time aroused. The murmur of voices could be 
 distinguished at a distance, and the excitement and alarm 
 were becoming universal. In the very beginning of their 
 progress, the fugitives from the villa were arrested by evi 
 dences of terror and destruction. The steps which led 
 from the first to the second terrace were fallen into a 
 ruinous heap ; in the garden below, the servants of the 
 family were huddled together. They hailed their master 
 and young mistress with loud cries ; exclaiming with joy 
 at their safety, but mingling congratulations with wailing 
 laments at present disaster and future danger. 
 
 " Here, Bachmet ; lend your hand to help my father," 
 cried Havilah, as she and her companions clambered with 
 difficulty down the terrace. " Hush, Geita ! you must not 
 alarm your master," she whispered in an undertone to the 
 girl, who was attracting her mistress's attention to a corner 
 of the western wing of the villa, which had fallen in. " Are 
 you all safe, good Abou?" she inquired of a faithful old 
 Syrian cook and steward ; and when the old man had 
 responded, " All ! " she added, Thank God ! follow us then, 
 but be quiet." 
 
 They obeyed her in loving reverence ; the spirit of awe 
 not a little augmented among the group by the sudden, and, 
 as it seemed to them, supernatural appearance of the Eng 
 lishman upon the scene. 
 
 Thus far the disasters of the night seemed to be confined
 
 216 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 to the villa and its environs, which, built upon broader and 
 less substantial terraces than those of the ancient village, 
 were consequently more susceptible to accident, both from 
 flood and earthquake. Beyond the precincts of the garden, 
 all wore its customary appearance, save where a sinking or 
 sliding wall denoted the precarious nature of the founda 
 tions on which life and property depended. 
 
 " That reservoir holds yet ; miraculous ! " was the un 
 guarded exclamation of Meredith, as, crossing the bridge 
 below the cliff, he looked up and beheld the bare rock 
 frowning above. " There may still be time," he murmured 
 half aloud, and hurrying M. Trefoil on at redoubled speed. 
 
 Havilah's eye followed Meredith's, so did her mind ; 
 she foresaw the nature of the catastrophe which he appre 
 hended ; her quick instinct taught her the only remedy. 
 
 " God be praised, you are safe from harm ! " gasped Mer 
 edith, as he pushed open the door of Father Lapierre's 
 hermitage, his broad chest heaving, not from the physical 
 efforts he had made, but from the deep emotions of thank 
 fulness with which he ushered the helpless old man and his 
 child into their place of refuge. " Now I must find Asaad," 
 he added in an under tone to Havilah, as she passed him on 
 the threshold. " Does he still occupy the cottage below the 
 mulberry orchard?" He waited but an answering nod in 
 reply, and was gone. 
 
 The cottage was empty. The shepherd was not likely to 
 be asleep at his post when danger awaited his flock. The 
 atmosphere was comfortable, however. There was a fire 
 smouldering on the hearth ; the iron lamp was trimmed and 
 burning in its niche : it was evident that the place had been 
 but recently forsaken. M. Trefoil looked from floor to ceil 
 ing, glanced curiously at various objects as if they excited in 
 his mind some dim association with the past ; then, relapsing
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 217 
 
 into the half-bewildered stupor which had become habitual 
 with him, he sunk upon a corner of the divan, suffered his 
 head to drop upon his hands, and resumed his vacant, in 
 different expression of countenance. 
 
 Havilah bestowed on him a look of tender pity. In his 
 very immobility, nevertheless, she found encouragement and 
 assurance for the present emergency. She drew his cloak 
 closely about him, and imprinted a hasty kiss on his passive 
 features. Little Geita stood, meanwhile, looking on, and 
 Ayib, who had followed close upon his mistress's track, had 
 nestled, in what was now his customary place, at her father's 
 feet. " Sit here, Geita," signified Havilah to the Turkish 
 girl, pointing to a place on the divan. " Do not stir from 
 his side. Good Abou, you will guard the door. Until I 
 come back, whenever that may be, remember, Abou, you 
 must take care of my father." She pressed her slight figure 
 against the door ; it turned on its pivot, and she glided out 
 into the moonlight. 
 
 10
 
 218 EL 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 EL FUREIDIS was now a scene of confusion and dismay. 
 An indistinct murmur of fear and lamentation went up 
 from the mountain-side. But there was no huddling to 
 gether in crowds, no universal watchword of alarm, no 
 crying upon one another for help. Each peasant was 
 engaged heart and hand for the salvation of his own little 
 household and domain. The earthquake had subsided, 
 but still the work of destruction went on. 
 
 The great law of cohesion seemed to have been sub 
 verted, and matter to have been suddenly set adrift. Here 
 a clay roof had parted at one extremity, and a stream 
 of mud and water was pouring in ; there a terrace-wall 
 had fallen, gardens of vegetation had been driven down 
 the slope, and were heaped in the form of rubbish upon 
 the lower court-yards and house-tops. In one or two in 
 stances, stone dwellings had been precipitated upon those 
 below, and the occupants had barely escaped with their 
 lives. For the most part loose soil only was swept from 
 its place, and the houses stood firm upon their foundations ; 
 but the undermining process was going on insidiously, and 
 the unhappy villagers were distracted between the con 
 tending claims of person and property, all knowing that 
 life and limb were at stake, none willing to sacrifice 
 the chance of still propping up their roofs and walls, and 
 saving some portion at least of their worldly goods.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 219 
 
 " Each man for himself," was the necessary motto, where 
 all were victims of a common disaster. It was an excep 
 tion to the general rule, then, that two individuals should 
 be seen at this crisis hastening in one direction. The 
 taller and manlier of the two ran at full speed, now 
 and then looking back, and in breathless tones uttering 
 some word to the other, who followed with a rapidity 
 which sprang from respect to authority rather than any 
 voluntary impulse. 
 
 " I tell you, Asaad," exclaimed the former, " your mas 
 ter is incapable of giving any orders. You are a man 
 of reason, are you not ? " 
 
 "I trust so, Howadji, for it is reason which tells me, 
 that to open the sluice-ways is to let the lion in upon 
 the prey. I cannot expose my master's property." 
 
 " And so you will suffer the water to run mad, you 
 will see the village swept to destruction, rather than take 
 a bold step and save it ? What a dastard you are, man ! 
 I tell you, the blood of these people will be on your 
 head." 
 
 " But the factory ! the factory ! " persisted Asaad, stop 
 ping short, and wringing his hands ; for he saw determination 
 in the Englishman's face, and fear and irresolution were con 
 tending in his soul. " We all depend on the factory for 
 our daily bread." 
 
 " Depend on the factory ! pshaw ! " cried Meredith, an 
 grily ; " every one depends on himself, or ought to ! 
 Besides, dead men eat no bread ; and on my soul, I be 
 lieve there is but one chance for life here to-night. 
 Be a man, Asaad, and do the work of a man, for by 
 Heaven " 
 
 He stopped short, foot and tongue at the same in 
 stant arrested, eye and ear strained, and his heart spell-
 
 220 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 bound. " By Heaven," he added, after an instant's pause, 
 and speaking now in a tone of mingled horror, triumph, 
 and reproach, " a woman has done it for you ! " 
 
 As soldiers rushing to a conflict would feel themselves 
 impotent and overawed, should they behold an angel fight 
 ing in the van of their army, so these two men stood trem 
 bling and aghast at the scene which presented itself to their 
 upturned gaze. 
 
 Like a wild beast loosened from long confinement, the 
 unchained waters were dashing over the fall and hurrying 
 down the channel, while upright, amid the rush, the roar, 
 and the spray, stood one clothed all in white, who might 
 have been deemed a vaporous water-spirit, sent thither to 
 allay the flood. Her garments were fluttering over the 
 verge of the fall, her foot seemed to rest on the gliding 
 torrent, her form was showered by the foam. The golden 
 moonlight glorified her, imagination lent her wings, yet 
 she was a mortal thing, endued with immortal powers only 
 as matter yields to mind when the spirit is in the ascendant. 
 
 Her slight arm might, otherwise, have sought in vain to 
 stir the massive bar and to raise the ponderous lever ; but 
 God and a great motive gave her strength, and she had 
 done the work of a man and a deliverer. 
 
 It was a moment of awful and intense excitement. She 
 had opened the only safety-valve ; danger was finding vent 
 through its natural channel ; yet the relief was but partial 
 and gradual, the crisis pressing and imminent. 
 
 Havilah stood for a moment watching the result of her 
 resolute and courageous act. " It is pouring out fast," was 
 her triumphant thought, as she saw the tide rush beneath 
 her feet. " Will it prove a salvation ? God knows ! " and 
 she lifted her face upward in devout appeal ; then, becom 
 ing conscious of her own perilous position, she turned slowly
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 221 
 
 round to retrace her steps to the bank of the water-course. 
 It required a steady eye and foot to tread the narrow beam, 
 which was the connecting link between herself and the mar 
 gin of the stream. She had stepped out upon the solitary 
 timber, without a shudder, when hastening to lift the bolt at 
 the extremity, just above the fall ; but the pent-up waters 
 were comparatively quiet then, now the beam was resting 
 above the surface of a tumultuous flood, and the bewilder 
 ing roar caused her heart to quail a little, as, putting one 
 foot carefully before the other, she swayed her light form, 
 and endeavored to preserve her balance. 
 
 The first step gave her confidence, however ; she looked 
 away from the fall, kept her eye on the shore, and in a mo 
 ment more would have set foot on the bank, when suddenly 
 the stone abutment to which the beam was riveted, and 
 which had been already insidiously undermined, gave way 
 beneath the pressure of the flood. Rock, earth, and ma 
 sonry were upheaved, the pier tottered, reeled, then shiv 
 ered into fragments, and the shore-end of Havilah's frail 
 support was left at the mercy of the current. As the iron 
 clamps which had been affixed to the masonry parted 
 with a shock, the extremity of the beam tilted up and 
 rocked so fearfully, that the figure of its dizzy occupant 
 was swayed to and fro like a willow twig tossed in the 
 breeze. Still she maintained her footing in the very cen 
 tre of the timber ; she might even have made a few light 
 bounds and sprung from the raised end to the shore ; but 
 before she could poise herself for the effort, or discern a 
 secure resting-place amid the wreck that strewed the bank, 
 the beam touched the surface of the torrent, and, whirled 
 by the force of the rushing tide, was drifted out at such an 
 angle as to bring its extremity to the very verge of the fall, 
 and place a fearful abyss between Havilah and the shore.
 
 222 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 The opposite extremity had hitherto been riveted to the 
 waste-gate ; but the violent impetus, which swept the tim 
 ber into its oblique position across the current, had the 
 effect of instantly wrenching it from its remaining fasten 
 ings, thus setting the frail bark, with its solitary voyager, at 
 the mercy of the cruel element. Destruction seemed gap 
 ing for its prey ; but there was yet one more obstacle to the 
 timber's fatal leap, in the shape of a jutting point of rock, 
 which, rearing itself in the rapids just above the fall, caught 
 the beam in its progress, and held it for an instant sus 
 pended at right angles with the stream. 
 
 It was but a momentary salvation, a mere balancing 
 between life and death. Havilah stood erect, scarce con 
 scious of her awful peril, but Avith a figure stiffened into 
 rigidity by the instinctive impulse to resist the force which 
 thus far had carried her helpless along. There seemed 
 not a possible chance for her rescue ; but love that is 
 stronger than death' was ready to challenge fate, and the 
 critical moment had come. 
 
 With a vague sense of apprehension and terror, Meredith 
 had scaled the bank opposite to that from which Havilah 
 had come out upon the stream. Startled by the crash 
 of the falling abutment, he had breathlessly mounted the 
 waste-gate and gained its terminating point above the fall 
 just in time to see the hoped-for communication cut off, 
 and the pale victim whom he had sprung to save whirled 
 round, equidistant from himself and the shore. It was a 
 fearful crisis, but no time for hesitancy or doubt. Now, 
 then, young athlete of the school and the university, now 
 for a trial in which there is no competitor ! Eight feet 
 between yourself and the floating beam, as many more to 
 gain the shore, and a besom of wrath sweeping down on 
 either side ! An instant, and the deed is done. It was
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 223 
 
 safety or death for both, and by God's grace, safety. With 
 one bound Meredith vaulted upon the timber, which reeled 
 beneath his weight. The shock would have tossed Havilah 
 like a feather to the wave, but an iron arm was round her 
 waist. That grasp gave electrical force to her rescuer, the 
 impetus afforded by one successful effort lent him power for 
 a second desperate leap ; the deserted timber floated over 
 the precipice, the Englishman and the girl stood in safety 
 on the shore. 
 
 It was all the work of a moment, one of those wild, 
 incomprehensible moments, which one passes through un 
 consciously at the time, but remembers with a shudder in 
 after years. 
 
 Havilah turned and looked up over her shoulder at Mer 
 edith, who had not yet released her from his hold, looked 
 inquiringly, as one might look who, miraculously preserved 
 in time of peril, questions whether it be through the media 
 tion of man or angel. She saw, but did not thank him, did 
 not utter a word ; there was not time. He had saved her 
 life ; but what was one life where so many were at stake ? 
 what but the opportunity for further action ? Before he 
 could stay her, or question her motives, she was once more 
 beyond his reach ; she had slid from his arm like a wreath 
 of mist, and had darted down the cliff. Silently, like a 
 spirit, she sped to her work ; but as Meredith's startled 
 senses realized the direction she had taken, he could not 
 refrain from an utterance of despair, and the air rang with 
 " the cry of a strong man in his agony." 
 
 It needed but a glance to reveal the fact that she had 
 been saved from one danger only to expose herself to 
 another equally hideous and alarming. Asaad had proph 
 esied truly. The factory buildings could not resist the 
 force of the flood ; the crash of falling timbers and stones
 
 224 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 could already be distinctly heard ; one foundation prop after 
 another was giving way ; the tall bell-tower had taken an 
 oblique inclination, and was tottering to its fall ; the whole 
 structure must soon be a ruinous heap, and yet Havilah 
 had darted into its midst. 
 
 Meredith followed. In his one moment of uncertainty 
 and horror he had suffered her to gain the start of him, and 
 she was almost out of sight. Her white cloak fluttering in 
 the wind, served, however, as a signal to guide him. Now 
 it floated round the corner of the factory, then emerged at 
 the opposite angle ; the shadow of the bell-tower obscured it 
 for a moment, it came out again on the little foot-bridge that 
 crossed the stream ; here a massive boulder on the farther 
 bank bid it altogether from view, and when at length Mere 
 dith gained the summit of the great rock, and looked about 
 him, the white signal was altogether wanting, providen 
 tially wanting, for now the Englishman paused, awaiting its 
 reappearance, and that pause saved him from a living burial. 
 The piers which sustained the factory-tower at the same 
 instant gave way, and the tall column fell with a fearful 
 crash. The stream was narrowed just opposite the silk- 
 mill by the very rock on which Meredith stood, and the 
 tower, taking a sidelong direction, fell across the flume, 
 partially obstructing the current, and scattering a storm 
 of rock on the opposite bank. Meredith's elevated posi 
 tion proved his security from the heavier missiles of de 
 struction; but light fragments of brick and granite were 
 showered around him like hail, and he found himself 
 blinded by a thick cloud of dust and mortar, while his 
 ears were almost deafened by the crash of masonry and 
 by the clattering of huge masses of stone, which, escaping 
 from the ruinous pile, were rattling down into the valley. 
 Amid the obscure atmosphere and the tumult of sound, it
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 225 
 
 was difficult to discern the nature or extent of the catas 
 trophe ; but in the very midst of the shock Meredith 
 realized the fact that there was safety where he stood, 
 destruction below, there was deliverance for himself, but 
 where was Havilah ? 
 
 The air was still thick with dust, the rocky avalanche 
 still in motion, when Meredith rushed hi amid the chaos. 
 His foot sunk in loose heaps of mortar; his very breath, 
 and the stirring of the air as he passed, seemed to start 
 some trembling stone and send it rumbling down the hill 
 side. He glanced anxiously from right to left, shuddering 
 at the thought of the dread revelation which might be in 
 store for him. The air cleared as he went on ; he had left 
 the heavier heaps of rubbish behind him ; for a few steps 
 the moon shone on his path, and he could see his way ; 
 then came a space in deep shadow, and here, running at 
 the top of his speed, the young man encountered a sudden 
 obstacle. This impediment to his progress presented itself 
 in the form of a man, who, stationed just outside the old 
 olive-mill, had been beating his breast, uttering loud cries 
 and lamentations, and calling upon Heaven for help. 
 
 " Who are you ? what is the matter ? " cried Meredith, 
 as he assisted in raising the individual whom he had 
 thrown down and stumbled over in the impetuosity of his 
 onset. " Have you seen the master's daughter ? Has Havi 
 lah passed this way ? " he hastily continued, as he set the 
 poor man upon his feet. 
 
 " Good God ! it is the Howadji," exclaimed the man in 
 the whining tones which Meredith at once recognized as 
 those of the old miller. " sir ! sir ! we are accursed of 
 the Lord ; the mountains are falling upon us, and the hills 
 covering us. Help us ! for the love of Heaven, help us ! " 
 
 " The master's daughter, man ! " cried Meredith, with an 
 10* o
 
 226 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 eagerness that was almost fierce, " Lave you seen her, I 
 say ? " 
 
 " Have I seen her, the pretty saint ? Yes ! yes ! How- 
 adji ! She went by me like a falling star. But she will not 
 come back. The rose will be crushed, and my rose-buds too, 
 my beautiful ones all asleep on their pillow. O sir ! could 
 not you save them? You are a young man; you are 
 strong. Listen to an old man's prayer ! " And he threw 
 himself on the ground, and clasped the Englishman's knees. 
 
 Meredith extricated himself; and, impatient of this 
 human clog, thrust him aside, exclaiming emphatically, 
 "Which way? Answer me that, and no more, which 
 way?" 
 
 " there ! there ! " ejaculated the miller, pointing to 
 his owngsottage, a few rods lower down, overshadowed by 
 the ancient mill, " there, under the fig-tree, where my roof 
 has fallen in. Havilah is there, and my babes ; and the 
 stones have sunk, and the walls are rent, and the house will 
 be buried under the falling mill ! It is going ! ah, I 
 know it ! and my sweet ones will find a grave under the 
 roof that these hands have raised, and Havilah too ! 
 And I have sent that young Frank to perish with them. May 
 the Lord forgive me ! " 
 
 The old man was soliloquizing, for the Englishman had 
 obeyed the first motion of his informant's finger, and had 
 left him to tear his hair alone, and pour out his lamentations 
 to the wind. 
 
 Meredith approached the hut, fear whispering to him 
 that he might find it but a tomb. The rear end of the little 
 rectangular building rested against the wall of the terrace, 
 which formed the foundation of the mill, a perilous support 
 enough, but one which thus far stood firm. The next ter 
 race below had fallen in, however, the cottage rested on 
 an inclined plane, and its roof was gaping wide.
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 227 
 
 " Havilah ! Havilah ! " shouted Meredith, as he drew 
 near the mouth of the cavity, which looked as forbidding 
 and black as if it conducted to the bowels of the earth. 
 
 He was answered by something between a sigh and a 
 moan, and the sudden emerging of a head through the open 
 ing. As he caught sight of a profusion of dark hair and a 
 fair young face, he gave a cry of joy, and, believing he had 
 discovered the object of his search, stretched out his single 
 arm, the arm which was doing all his work to-night, for 
 the other was powerless. Thus aided, a little figure soon 
 soon appeared through the aperture, the figure, not of 
 Havilah, but of one of those beautiful, rosy children born 
 among the Druse mountaineers. 
 
 "It is Kassim," said a soft, juvenile voice, as the boy 
 scrambled to his feet. 
 
 Meredith's heart sank within him ; but at the nlxt breath 
 he caught the sound of a still sweeter voice from below, 
 saying, " Stand still there, Kassim, I will come in one mo 
 ment." 
 
 " One moment ? come now, Havilah ! " cried the young 
 man in the desperation of an intense anxiety, an anxiety 
 which had reached its climax, for he could hear the creak 
 ing of the mill above his head, and had already seen one of 
 its supports swept away by the flood. 
 
 There was no answer ; and, resting his arm on one edge 
 of the ruptured roof, he sprang down the aperture. 
 
 He found himself in darkness, but groped his way to 
 wards a feeble glimmering of light, and, passing through a 
 low, sunken door-way, entered a little shed, the outer wall of 
 which was rent from top to bottom, part having fallen out 
 ward so as to admit the moonlight, the remainder forming a 
 heap of rubbish in one corner of the apartment. On this 
 heap stood Havilah. Both her arms were raised, and she 
 seemed vainly striving to lift some heavy weight
 
 228 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Havilah ! dear chftd ! " he shouted, forgetting every 
 thing but his fears for her safety, " what are you doing 
 here ? For Heaven's sake, come away ! " 
 
 " O help me ! " she cried, at once recognizing his voice, 
 " help me ! you are just in time." 
 
 She was striving to dislodge a rafter which had fallen 
 crosswise against the inner wall of the shed. He instantly 
 placed his broad shoulder underneath the timber, and with 
 one effort dislodged it, revealing a stone niche in the wall, 
 in which were cradled two sleeping infants. 
 
 " They are there ! they are safe ! I was sure of it," she 
 exclaimed, in tones of joy and thankfulness. " I did not let 
 the water in to be the death of you, my darlings ; God be 
 praised ! Hush ! hush ! " she continued, in the tenderest 
 accents, for Meredith, in his impetuosity, had snatched 
 one of tra children from its pillow, and it was shrieking 
 violently, " hush, darling ! it is Havilah." 
 
 At the voice, and the sound of the familiar name, the 
 little creature sprang to her outstretched arms, nestled its 
 head in her bosom, and was comforted. Meredith, taught 
 by experience, lifted the other child carefully, without wak 
 ing it, and he and Havilah, each with an infant burden in 
 their arms, turned to depart. 
 
 But they were not permitted to go as they had come. 
 Their lives were destined to hang once more in the scales 
 of fate. They had passed through the low door-way, and 
 gained the principal, though nearly roofless apartment of 
 the dwelling, Meredith leading Havilah by the hand, when 
 the crisis came, and the overtopping mill fell headlong. 
 
 Can one define the sensations of him on whose head 
 the thunder-bolt bursts ? Less easily can one paint the 
 emotions of those who had thus encountered chaos. It 
 was all expressed in the tumultuous thought, " Dead and 
 alive again ! lost and found ! "
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 229 
 
 They stood braced against the terrace wall, rigid and 
 still. The child in Havilah's arms clung to her neck, con 
 vulsed with terror ; Meredith held her hand as in a vice. 
 Ruin was heaped on ruin all around them, yet there they 
 stood unharmed. Brave old wall ! The miller's handiwork 
 was stronger than the miller's faith ; it had not crushed his 
 offspring, it had saved them. A fragment of the mill, a 
 huge sheet of rafters and plastered stone, heavy enough to 
 have crushed a score of men, had commenced sliding down 
 the terraced stairway, had found a resting-place on the cot 
 tage wall, and, sloping thence to a secure foundation on the 
 hill-side below, formed a solid roof of masonry, beneath 
 which, as in a pent-house, the group of refugees had found 
 a shelter. 
 
 The light made its way in at the farther extremity of 
 this impromptu cave. " Come on," whispered Meredith, as 
 the awful din was succeeded by a stillness scarcely less 
 solemn ; and he led the way. Havilah trod close upon 
 his footsteps. They climbed over mounds of rubbish, 
 scarcely venturing to breathe or look around them, so great 
 was their sense of the insecurity which attended every 
 motion. Not a stone, however, started from its foundation. 
 Hand in hand they silently groped their way, and at length 
 issued through a triangular opening into the moonlight. 
 A moment more, and they had passed beyond the line to 
 which the devastating storm had extended. 
 
 Havilah now turned back, and, as her eye discerned the 
 scene behind her, she faltered forth, " Poor Kassim ! " The 
 spot where she had left the boy was a wilderness of heaped- 
 up stone. 
 
 " Perhaps he ran on and escaped," said Meredith, at the 
 same time inwardly shuddering at the almost certain con 
 viction that the child was lost. " If not, he is beyond help.
 
 230 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 Do not turn back, Havilah," for he saw her hesitate; "every 
 stone shall be turned. I will see to it myself, but you and 
 these children must first be cared for." 
 
 At this moment voices were distinctly heard, - cries of 
 fear, congratulation, and lament mingled in strange con 
 fusion, cries amid which joy became predominant, as a 
 little crowd of villagers appeared in sight, and at once 
 recognized Havilah. The emotion of thanksgiving was 
 mutual, for at the head of the throng came the miller, 
 with his little grandson Kassim in his arms. The boy, 
 following the warning of instinct, had made his way, un 
 aided, to the guardianship of the old man, whose wailing 
 tones had served as a call-bell to summon the little fellow 
 out of the reach of danger. 
 
 But grief is stronger than joy, and must have its way. 
 The shouts of congratulation would have been long in sub 
 siding, but they were speedily drowned by the frenzied 
 accents of a woman, who rushed into the circle shrieking 
 and crying for help. It was Hendia, the young wife of 
 Asaad, who, now beating her breast, then tossing her arms 
 in the air, implored succor and deliverance for her husband, 
 who was buried beneath his own roof-tree. 
 
 " He is not dead," she said, " for he has spoken to me. 
 But heavy stones are on his chest, his breath is short ; come 
 quickly Come and save him ! " 
 
 " Now then, my men ! " cried Meredith, placing the child 
 which he carried in the arms of a woman who stood near 
 him, " I have gold for every man who has an arm to spare. 
 On to the rescue of Asaad ! Courage, Hendia, he shall 
 soon stand up with the best of us ! " 
 
 It was no instantaneous feat, no miraculous work of sal 
 vation, which was called for now. It was patient and almost 
 hopeless labor.
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 231 
 
 " Here ! underneath this wall of stone ! Impossible ! " ex 
 claimed Meredith, as, running in advance of a ready gang 
 of followers, he stood beside Hendia, at the spot which she 
 indicated as that where her husband lay entombed. 
 
 " Yes ! yes, Howadji ! he is there, I have heard his voice. 
 I hear it now;" and she laid her ear to a crevice in the 
 rocks and listened. 
 
 Meredith followed her example ; apparently he was con 
 vinced and encouraged, for, without a word, he commenced 
 rolling away the stones. A half-dozen men had soon ral 
 lied to his aid. Under his direction they labored dili 
 gently and well, his voice spurring them on, his single 
 arm serving as an iron wedge or an elastic lever, whdn- 
 ever the work pressed hard. Havilah, meanwhile, en 
 deavored to soothe the wretched wife, who had thrown 
 herself upon the ground at a little distance, and was sob 
 bing hysterically. 
 
 " What shall I tell her ? Is there any hope ? " said a 
 voice at Meredith's elbow, when the work had been pro 
 gressing long but fruitlessly. 
 
 He looked round, saw Havilah, and shook his head. 
 " There is no sound from below," he answered, speaking 
 low, lest he should discourage his men ; " he has ceased 
 moaning. Speak to him yourself," he added; "if he is alive, 
 he will know your voice." 
 
 The perspiration was pouring down Meredith's face. 
 " Drink this," said Havilah, placing a cup of wine in his 
 hand. " I have more here for your men," she continued, 
 glancing at a little jug in her hand, as he looked compassion 
 ately on his fellow-workmen, and seemed to hesitate. He 
 took the cup and drank. She placed her mouth against a 
 cavity in the rocks. 
 
 " He hears me," she cried at length, springing to her
 
 232 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 feet. " He has spoken my name ! See ! see ! he is himself 
 trying to throw off the load." 
 
 It was true. The surface of the heap of stones was evi 
 dently agitated by a force from below. The little crowd 
 (for half the village had by this time collected at the spot) 
 responded to this indication of life and strength on the part 
 of the sufferer by a round of cheers. The laborers, inspired 
 by hope, and each refreshed by a draught of wine, resumed 
 their efforts with new heart. Five minutes more, and Asaad 
 responded to their words of cheer by a succession of groans, 
 which, woful as they were, proved him to be free from the 
 risk of suffocation. 
 
 " Now, my men, all together, one strong pull and we 
 have done ! " exclaimed Meredith, as, shovelling away a mass 
 of earth and mortar, he disclosed a flat, slaty stone, against 
 whose weight Asaad was vainly struggling. They pried up 
 one end of the slab, heaved against it with united force, 
 hurled it back with a crash, which caused the by-standers to 
 beat a sudden retreat ; and there, lodged between two simi 
 lar blocks, lay Asaad, crushed within the walls of his prison- 
 house. 
 
 It was as if the coffin-lid were lifted, but the dead man 
 refused to rise. He lay still and speechless. Havilah 
 leaned over him, and poured a few drops of wine down his 
 throat. Hendia threw herself upon his bosom with frantic 
 cries. " He will revive," said Father Lapierre, who had this 
 instant reached the spot ; and kneeling beside the unfortunate 
 man, he pressed his hand upon his heart. " Take him up 
 gently, my sons, and carry him to the church ; I will follow 
 you, and bring Avith me dressing for his wounds. You will 
 find I have other sufferers in my hospital ; but there is 
 room for all." 
 
 "The hand of the Lord is heavy upon us this night,
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 233 
 
 my child," he continued, addressing Havilah. " Ah, my 
 friend ! " and with a gesture of surprise he held out his hand 
 to Meredith, " you see we have fallen upon evil days ; but 
 we have much to be thankful for yet. The danger is past. 
 It has left the village in ruins ; my people are houseless, 
 some of them are hurt ; but let us thank God, he has not 
 suffered even one of our little ones to perish." 
 
 A company of peasants now lifted the helpless Asaad 
 from the ground, and moved off; a part of the crowd, 
 actuated either by curiosity or sympathy, followed ; the 
 remainder dispersed in different directions. 
 
 Havilah, anxious concerning her father, suffered M. La- 
 pierre to put her arm within his, and conduct her to his 
 cottage. Meredith was about to take the opposite direction, 
 but the missionary, prompted by a quick-breathed word 
 from Havilah, laid him under an imperative arrest. 
 
 " Stay, my young friend," was the old pastor's sudden ex 
 clamation ; " you are a subject for my authority," and he 
 pointed to the sling and ill-adjusted bandage, to which his 
 attention had just been attracted. " I am going for lint and 
 ointment, then to my hospital on the hill. I cannot suffer 
 you out of my sight without the promise that you will meet 
 me there." 
 
 Meredith gave his parole, and thus they separated.
 
 234 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 % 
 
 " GOOD morning, M. Lapierre ! " exclaimed a voice 
 behind the old missionary, who, on the third day after the 
 catastrophe, stood erect upon the projecting Falcon Perch, 
 and viewed the scene of desolation below. 
 
 " Peace be with you, my son ! " responded the pastor, as 
 he turned and saw the Englishman. " You have been ab 
 sent from the village since yesterday. I began to fear you 
 had gone as you came, upon the wings of the night-wind." 
 
 " I have been to visit my hosts at the convent," answered 
 Meredith, taking his stand beside the venerable man. " Old 
 Hubert crept down from his eyrie two days ago to learn the 
 particulars of the misfortunes here, and carry back tidings 
 to the brethren. I saw him for a moment : it seems that 
 my disappearance on the eve of the disaster has created 
 considerable anxiety at the monastery, and I feared my 
 failing to return would be deemed discourteous, not to say 
 ungrateful, to my old friends there." 
 
 " And this suffering member ? " interrogated M. Lapierre, 
 laying his hand on Meredith's injured arm. 
 
 " Is better," was the reply. " Had the limb been skilfully 
 treated at first, I have no doubt it would have healed before 
 now. As it is, the relief is wonderful, and I have a large 
 stock of patience on hand. The good Superior is charmed 
 with the success of his practice. I respected the etiquette 
 which prevails among the medical faculty so far as to conceal
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 235 
 
 from him the fact that I had had the benefit of other advice, 
 and he feels himself qualified to receive a diploma, in view 
 of the wonderful cure he has wrought." 
 
 M. Lapierre smiled. " And how does he view the calami 
 tous condition of El Fureidis ? " 
 
 ""With similar self-complacency. He is persuaded that, 
 had the village been under the protection of his blessed 
 Lady Mary, it might, like the convent, have withstood earth 
 quake and flood ; and at the moment when I encountered 
 Father Hubert in the village, he was rousing the credulity 
 of a wonder-sti'icken group of peasantry with accounts of 
 the various campaigns which the favorite saint of the frater 
 nity has for years been carrying on with the elements, and 
 always with unvarying success. It was the first time I had 
 ever seen anything of a proselyting spirit among the simple- 
 hearted recluses." 
 
 " They are not the only men," answered M. Lapierre, 
 " who will quote this visitation of Providence as an argu 
 ment against our Protestant faith. I have within a few 
 days seen several Druse Akals expostulating vehemently 
 with those of their race who have abandoned their ancient 
 mysticisms for our simple belief, and I this morning recog 
 nized in the village a well-known Jesuit priest from Zahleh, 
 who will, no doubt, endeavor to excite the fears and super 
 stitions of the Maronite portion of our population. I do not 
 fear, however, for the steadfastness and patience of the ma 
 jority of my flock. I find them more reasonable and docile 
 than could have been expected. Some, indeed, are bitter 
 in their murmurings ; and a few of our energetic young 
 men, who are bound by no family ties, have already turned 
 their backs upon a place which they believe to be under the 
 curse of the Lord, and have gone to try their fortune on the 
 sea-board."
 
 236 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Poor fellows ! " said Meredith ; " I met them half-way 
 across the mountain, with their wallets on their backs. I 
 am sorry for them, sorry, too, for this discouragement to 
 the success of your mission." 
 
 " Such instances as this do not discourage me," said 
 Father Lapierre. " Even in the most favored lands, where 
 civil and religious liberty have for centuries exercised their 
 sway, the faith of whole communities is biased, if not shaped, 
 by their worldly interests ; their theology is the superstruc 
 ture of which gold and policy are the corner-stones, and 
 the former sinks the moment the latter are undermined. 
 Who can wonder, then, if a people who have found refuge 
 from priestly tyranny and political oppression under a sys 
 tem where prosperity and religion made common cause, 
 should shrink from that chastening of Providence which 
 has in a single night reduced them from comfort and peace 
 to beggary and desperation ? For myself, when I see the 
 straits to which my poor people are driven, I can only 
 bless God for that experience of his love which has taught 
 me and many among my flock to trust in him, who, if he is 
 mighty to destroy, is mighty also to save." 
 
 " So great a calamity," suggested Meredith, " is in itself 
 a call for public sympathy and aid." 
 
 M. Lapierre shook his head in the negative. " It would 
 be in your country," said he ; " but here, I grieve to say, 
 quite the contrary is to be anticipated. In the first place, 
 the slow and infrequent communications between one point 
 and another will prevent this disaster from becoming widely 
 known. Then, too, the event which to us seems so momen 
 tous, is likely to excite little surprise or interest in a region 
 where everything in nature is liable to convulsions and 
 overturns. Such earthquakes as we have recently experi 
 enced are by no means uncommon on these mountains,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 237 
 
 especially at this season of the year, when, owing to some 
 unexplained cause, perhaps to hydrostatic pressure, the gases 
 beneath the surface are subject to ferment and explosion. 
 But these shocks are seldom widely felt, or accompanied 
 by destructive results. I do not hear that any other vil 
 lage on the mountains has suffered at all in proportion to 
 ourselves. I doubt, indeed, whether the internal groan and 
 shudder with which the Lebanon seemed to cast off the 
 weight of El Fureidis from its broad shoulders, would have 
 been the cause of anything more than a night's alarm and 
 a day's speculation and gossip, had it not been for the im 
 providence of M. Trefoil, and the consequent undermining 
 of all the artificial foundations on which we depended for 
 our security. Singularly enough, the very causes which 
 had accomplished much and promised more for the pros 
 perity of our people have been instrumental in their ruin, 
 lanthe seemed to have an intuitive foresight of some im 
 pending calamity. How quickly her sad prophecy has been 
 fulfilled!" 
 
 " Did she, then, distrust the abilities of her husband, and 
 the soundness of his affairs ? " 
 
 " She had had bitter experience in early life of his want 
 of prudence and moderation. She knew that his active, 
 enterprising spirit was accompanied by a corresponding 
 degree of recklessness and impetuosity, and naturally feared 
 that, when unchecked by her influence and persuasions, he 
 would launch into new and ruinous speculations. Like most 
 sanguine men, he has always suffered his yearly expenses 
 and outlay to run in advance of his profits; and lanthe 
 confided to me, some months ago, her anxiety lest he had 
 laid himself under heavy obligations for the means of in 
 troducing his final system of improvement into the factory. 
 Poor man ! how infatuated he was with the project ? It
 
 238 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 blinded him, almost to the last, to his wife's slow decline ; 
 it closed his eyes to the risk in which he was thoughtlessly- 
 involving the villagers by barring up the mill-stream. In a 
 word, my poor, simple-hearted friend was, up to the time of 
 lanthe's death, engrossed in his new scheme as a child is 
 engrossed with a toy, and, like a child, he forgot and cast it 
 from him when grief had changed the whole current of his 
 ideas." 
 
 " It is a pity he ever undertook it," said Meredith, in a 
 tone of soliloquy, and half blaming himself for the encour 
 agement he was conscious of having afforded to the work; 
 " but the villagers will scarcely find fault with one who has 
 proved the greatest sufferer among them all." 
 
 " So far from it," replied Father Lapierre, " that I am 
 touched to observe how completely they exonerate him from 
 any share in their misfortunes, and how disinterested they are 
 in their expressions of sympathy for the man to whom they 
 are indebted for all their past prosperity. They see that, if 
 their houses are damaged, and in some cases uninhabitable, 
 his little villa is a complete wreck ; that, while their terrace- 
 walls, for the most part, require only partial repair, his 
 broader and more elaborate garden-plots are completely 
 washed away. They know that, if the master closed the 
 flood-gate to their injury, his daughter opened it at the sac 
 rifice of the best part of her heritage. Above all, they are 
 grateful to the Providence which has spared the lives of 
 themselves and their families, while many of them cannot 
 yet speak without tears of the sorrow which has befallen 
 the widowed husband and the motherless child." 
 
 "All must feel themselves impoverished in the destruc 
 tion of the factory," said Meredith. " It will scarcely ever 
 be rebuilt, I imagine." 
 
 " I cannot foresee such a possibility. Even if M. Tre-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 239 
 
 foil's health and mental condition were less shaken, his re 
 sources are, I fear, utterly exhausted." 
 
 " Have you seen him this morning ? " 
 
 " Yes ! Havilah was persuading him to take some break 
 fast when I left my cottage. I saw her afterward leading 
 him across the bridge to view the wreck of his property." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Meredith ; " was that wise ? " 
 
 " I suggested the idea myself," replied Father Lapierre, 
 " in hopes that the current of his thoughts might be diverted 
 into a new channel, believing that nothing could be more 
 dangerous to his reason than dwelling constantly upon his 
 bereavement." 
 
 " And how did the sight of the ruins affect him ? " 
 
 " Precisely as one is ordinarily impressed by the misfor 
 tunes of another man. He surveyed the spectacle with 
 astonishment, reiterated those phrases by which he con 
 tinually expresses his sense of the universal misery which 
 prevails, but seemed unconscious of any personal loss or 
 responsibility in the matter." 
 
 " And so the whole obligation and weight of affairs falls 
 upon his child," said Meredith, anxiously. 
 
 " No labor can be said to fall like a weight upon one who 
 assumes it with such cheerfulness as Havilah," observed M. 
 Lapierre. " To see her devotion to her father, one would 
 think he had her undivided care ; but the wounded vil 
 lagers find in her a nurse, the homeless children experience 
 a mother's tenderness at her hands, the strong men look to 
 her for counsel and encouragement, and the heads of the 
 village households hesitate not to cry out to her for bread." 
 
 " Poor girl ! " ejaculated Meredith, with a sigh and a 
 troubled countenance. " She will be overwhelmed, ex 
 hausted ; she is tasked beyond her strength." 
 
 " Do not fear for her," said Father Lapierre, composedly.
 
 240 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Her spirit rises with the emergency ; she is sufficient unto 
 her day. I trembled, indeed, when I witnessed her agita 
 tion beside her mother's death-bed. It was as if the foun 
 tains of the deep were broken up. Rest and leisure could 
 not have restored the calm ; but God in his mercy has sent 
 her care and toil, and with them peace. Do not believe, 
 young man, that labor was ever a part of man's curse. 
 Toil was made to follow in the track of sin ; but it was for 
 man's sake that the dispensation came, not as an evil, but as 
 a remedy. You will some day learn, my son, if you do not 
 know it already, that to work for one's self is an antidote to 
 pain ; to work for others is a panacea. If you doubt my 
 words, look in Havilah's countenance and read a confirma 
 tion of their truth. There she goes now ! " continued the 
 pastor, pointing to a little group who were climbing the vil 
 lage pathway. " Bachmet is with her, and Abou ; the old 
 man is leading one of his master's donkeys." 
 
 " The little animal seems to be laden with corn ! " said 
 Meredith, as he watched the approach of the party. 
 
 " Yes," replied M. Lapierre, " they have been to seek sup 
 plies from the stone granary at the villa, which fortunately 
 escaped the flood. No one will hunger so long as that 
 storehouse will furnish food. But it cannot hold out long 
 thus gratuitously distributed. God help my poor people 
 when this strong-hold fails ! " 
 
 "They must return to their work," said Meredith with 
 decision. "Their houses and vineyards are shattered and 
 wasted, I know, but the farm-lands of the plain yet promise 
 a harvest," 
 
 " True," rejoined M. Lapierre, " and my argument con 
 cerning labor can never be more applicable than in their 
 case. Their miseries would be half relieved if they were 
 once more actively employed, and saved from that tempta-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 241 
 
 tion to gossip over and dilate upon their losses, which is the 
 greatest snare to the industrious habits of our talkative and 
 gregarious people. But you do not realize half their dis 
 couragements. In lands where taxation is moderate, and 
 justice fairly administered, communities may hope gradu 
 ally to recover from a shock like the present ; but the mis 
 fortunes of our peasantry, so far from exciting sympathy, 
 only expose them to the cupidity of a class of men who 
 proverbially lie in wait for occasions to satisfy their greedi 
 ness and rapacity, and who will soon, I doubt not, pounce 
 like vultures upon my poor flock." 
 
 " How so ? " questioned Meredith. " Is it not a proverb 
 with you, that ' the wayfarer who is stripped is safe from the 
 robber ' ? " 
 
 " I will answer you in the equally trite saying, that when 
 one leg is disabled, the meanest things combine to trip up 
 the other. So long as the prosperity of El Fureidis con 
 tinued unshaken, it was one among those favored villages 
 of the Lebanon which furnished sufficient for the wants of 
 its households and the exactions of the tax-gatherers. The 
 rulers must be satisfied, if the people starve ; and nothing, 
 therefore, remains for our beggared peasants but to submit 
 to the interference of those farmers of the revenue, who, 
 loaning money at usurious rates of interest, profess to 
 stand between the Emir and his subjects, but who in reality 
 defraud the former, grind and oppress the latter, and fill 
 their own pockets at the expense of both. It is a hard lot 
 in any case to live under an unrighteous rule, but woe be to 
 those who, suffering intermediate agents to stand between 
 them and their rightful lord, find themselves lowest in that 
 scale where wrong begets wrong, and oppressions accumu 
 late in an increasing ratio. So fully has experience justified 
 this fact, that the Syrian can scarcely devise a more fearful 
 11 r
 
 242 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 malediction against his enemy than this, ' May the Lord 
 multiply your sheiks ! ' * 
 
 " Why not persuade the villagers, then," said Meredith, 
 his countenance manifesting a lively interest in the subject, 
 " to take an independent stand, and hold themselves aloof 
 from such dangerous arbitration ? " 
 
 " Because, my friend," answered the pastor, " they cannot 
 stand alone. Their wants are pressing ; without capital, 
 they cannot even make the necessary repairs in their ter 
 races and orchards. These harpies in the guise of friends 
 will tempt them with money, and for the present I see 
 nothing for the poor husbandmen but to make the best con 
 tract they can. Even now they are deliberating upon their 
 fate," continued Father Lapierre, pointing out a knot of 
 men who were earnestly gesticulating at a little distance. 
 " I must find some means to disperse them. They are only 
 aggravating each other's hardships by mutual comparison. 
 This idleness is ruinous. They might at least employ 
 themselves in clearing away the rubbish from their dwell 
 ings. M. Trefoil is alone in my cottage, Mr. Meredith," 
 added the missionary, as, leaning upon his staff, he set off 
 to expostulate with the people of his charge. " Will you 
 give him your company in his daughter's absence ? He 
 asked for you last evening, the first time he has asked for 
 any one since the day we buried lanthe. I do not despair of 
 your exercising a beneficial influence upon our poor friend." 
 
 "I will see him immediately," was Meredith's prompt 
 reply. 
 
 Jt was afternoon of the same day, and Asaad, still weak 
 and cramped in consequence of his recent sufferings, had 
 crept out from Father Lapierre's hospital, and seated him 
 self on the stone steps of the little church. The poor fel 
 low's attitude was dejected- The prospect before him, both
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 243 
 
 literally and figuratively speaking, was anything but en 
 couraging. His home, his health, his occupation, all were 
 gone ; and wherever his eye wandered, it encountered the 
 symptoms of a despondency equal to his own. At a little 
 distance from him stood two men, the one a tall, sun- 
 browned mountaineer, who, with uplifted hands and a dep 
 recating expression of face, was vehemently resisting the 
 arguments of his companion, a small, sinister-looking indi 
 vidual, with heavy eyebrows, gray beard, and a hooked 
 nose. The dress and demeanor of the latter alike marked 
 him as a stranger. He wore a soiled tarboosh and a long 
 garment of coarse black cloth. With his left hand he 
 grasped the neck of a leathern pouch, which he now and 
 then tapped with the forefinger of the right, as if striving 
 to enforce his plausible words by this insinuating gesture. 
 With one eye obliquely cast, he took the mental measure 
 of his opponent; the other he never once removed from 
 his lean diminutive donkey, which, laden with saddle-bags, 
 was devouring, to its own and its master's satisfaction, a 
 little heap of dhourra, the contents of a damaged grain- 
 jar, which the half-starved animal had smelt out amid the 
 rubbish of the peasant's dwelling. 
 
 Apparently the ill-looking man carried his point, for he 
 presently tapped the majestic Syrian on the shoulder with 
 the patronizing tap with which one puts the final seal upon 
 a victim, and turned away to exercise his persuasions else 
 where. The dissatisfied but despairing peasant winced 
 under the familiar touch, shrunk back a few steps, im 
 proved the moment when his persecutor's back was turned 
 to bestow an infuriated kick upon the thin-ribbed donkey, 
 and then leaned against his door-post in hopeless apathy, 
 deaf to the cries of his children and indifferent to the 
 petition of his faithful helpmeet, who begged him to make 
 known to her the conditions of his fate.
 
 244 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 The stranger, leading his donkey by the bridle, passed on 
 to the next cottage. Its owner was, or feigned to be, busy 
 in his ruined court-yard. Even the highest officers of state 
 respect the domestic privacy of the humblest Oriental, and 
 the mean pettifogger in rents and taxes could only stand 
 without and hail the object of his visit. 
 
 In a sharp key he summoned the husbandman to a par 
 ley, but the call was disregarded. He reiterated his cry, 
 accompanying it with a threat ; but the stout Druse, shrink 
 ing from the shackles which he well knew awaited his free 
 dom, maintained an obstinate silence, and the stranger and 
 his donkey passed on. 
 
 Two men stood ready to receive him. Braced against a 
 terrace-wall, united in counsel, with the woe-begone yet ex 
 cited faces of conscripts anticipating the word of march, but 
 inwardly stirred to rebellion, they awaited his proposition. 
 The remorseless man of money broached his terms. The 
 helpless pair stood aghast. 
 
 " Who is that villanous-looking rascal ? " exclaimed a 
 clear voice behind Asaad. 
 
 The latter looked up over his shoulder and saw the Eng 
 lishman. "It is Ben Hadad, the Armenian Jew," answered 
 Asaad, with a groan. 
 
 "What is the old night-owl doing here ?" 
 
 " Buying up the people's life-blood, Howadji. That 
 wretched donkey carries on his back the price of every 
 man's freedom in El Fureidis." 
 
 " Ha, the hardened usurer!" cried Meredith. "And his 
 terms, Asaad ? At what rate does he loan his gold ? " 
 
 " Twenty, thirty, forty per cent, whatever he can 
 wring from human necessities. Our misfortunes have made 
 it fifty to-day, if those men's faces do not lie." And Asaad 
 pointed to the hard-pressed couple with whom the Jew was 
 chaffering.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 245 
 
 " The Israelite has brought his money-bags to the wrong 
 market," said Meredith. " He shall find himself outbid. 
 Hark ye, Asaad ! Can you carry a message ? Have you 
 strength enough left, to clip the wings of that bird of 
 prey?" 
 
 A ray of light shot through the dim eyes of Asaad. " He 
 ruined my father more than a score of years ago," exclaimed 
 the ex-foreman, vehemently. " The sight of him chills my 
 blood. But it would fire my soul to put a stumbling-block 
 in his path. These sore limbs would be healed by running 
 on any errand that would thwart Ben Hadad's schemes." 
 
 " Listen, then ! " and the Englishman distinctly pro 
 nounced the words of the proclamation which he authorized 
 Asaad to circulate through the village. 
 
 "Do you mean so, Howadji? Can I trust my ears?" 
 cried Asaad, springing from his seat with the elasticity of a 
 well man. 
 
 " I mean what I say," said Meredith ; " but you must lose 
 no time in fulfilling your errand." 
 
 Asaad snatched his turban from his head and tossed it in 
 the air, gave a triumphant shout, and hastened down the 
 village pathway, proceeding, it is true, at a spring-halt, but 
 wholly unconscious of what would, a moment before, have 
 been torture to his cramped and swollen limbs. 
 
 Meredith, without waiting to watch the effect of his com 
 munication, set out for a solitary walk upon the mountain. 
 
 " Is it the softness of the summer air, or the beauty of 
 the sunset, or faith in the love of Heaven, good father, 
 which makes the people so cheerful and happy to-night ? " 
 asked Havilah, as, returning about sunset from active 
 duty in the village, she joined M. Lapierre, who stood 
 leaning on his staff at an angle of his cottage wall. 
 
 " The love of Heaven, no doubt, my child," answered
 
 246 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 the missionary; " though in this, as in many instances, it has 
 come in the guise of man's benefactions." 
 
 "Not in the benefactions of the man Ben Hadad, I 
 trust ? " said Havilah. " I have heard the customary laugh 
 ringing once more round the sycamore-tree. Beni Salhook, 
 who was yesterday the most discouraged of all the peasants, 
 has begun to repair his broken roof to-day, and is now 
 smoking a pipe in his court-yard ; and Saad, the miller, who, 
 forgetting the salvation of his family, has done nothing since 
 the accident to his mill but groan and wring his hands, is 
 singing " 
 
 She checked herself abruptly, as, coming close to Father 
 Lapierre, she caught sight of Meredith, who had returned 
 from his stroll, and now stood, with an abstracted air and a 
 countenance of extreme gravity, just around the corner of 
 the cottage wall, which had until this moment concealed 
 him from her view. She had met him occasionally since 
 the night of the catastrophe ; they had even reciprocated 
 slight offices of attention and service ; but had never, as now, 
 encountered each other at a moment of quiet and mutual 
 leisure. Havilah was slightly disconcerted, but Meredith 
 did not seem to observe her embarrassment, he scarcely 
 glanced at her, he even walked away a few steps, as if to 
 avoid interrupting a conversation in which he claimed no 
 part. 
 
 " So old Saad is singing, is he ? " asked Father Lapierre, 
 with an animated expression of interest. 
 
 " Yes," said Havilah, resuming her narrative, " singing 
 a holiday song to his grandchildren. There seems to be a 
 jubilee among the villagers. I had not the heart to stop 
 and question them. I was afraid their merriment was only 
 echoing the hollow chink of Ben Hadad's gold." 
 
 " In that case their laughter would soon be turned to
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 247 
 
 mourning, and their joy to heaviness," said Father Lapierre. 
 " But their gladness springs from a deeper source, and has 
 a better security than any fair promises of the Jew, Havi- 
 lah. El Fureidis may well sound a note of jubilee to-night, 
 for she is safely rid of the stinging scorpion. Ben Hadad 
 has gone back over the mountains, his money-bags as full 
 as when he came hither, but his hungry soul unsatisfied." 
 
 "And the people?" questioned Havilah, with a relieved 
 but still anxious countenance. 
 
 " The people have found a surer banker, a more faithful 
 friend, my child," said the missionary, laying a hand upon 
 Havilah's head, as if to temper beforehand the agitation 
 which he foresaw his communication would arouse. " The 
 Englishman " and the old man glanced significantly at 
 Meredith " has promised money to meet all their neces 
 sities ; he will make a contract with the government ; he 
 himself will farm the land." 
 
 For a moment Havilah stood gazing at M. Lapierre as 
 if her mind needed time to comprehend so great a truth. 
 Then tears of joy started to her eyes. A weight was lifted 
 from her heart, which fluttered like a bird set free. She 
 forgot herself, was lost to everything but one rapturous 
 sense of gratitude. With radiant face and both hands 
 outstretched she ran towards Meredith, who, beyond the 
 sound of their voices, stood looking abroad into the valley. 
 His arms were folded over his breast ; the prevailing joy 
 had reacted on the mind which had found relief in the 
 sympathy with others' pain ; his soul was filled with gloom ; 
 he did not perceive Havilah until she stood opposite to him, 
 with the windows of her soul wide open. 
 
 "You will repair the wrong my father has done," she 
 cried ; " you will save my mother's poor ! Heaven will 
 reward and bless you. Heaven only can ! "
 
 248 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 He looked down upon her with grave wonder, as one 
 might look at a flower that had suddenly burst into bloom 
 at his feet, then slowly unfolded his arms, took her offered 
 hands in his, and answered with a chill, melancholy tone, 
 which was calculated to check and freeze her enthusiasm : 
 " I ask for no rewards, and I deserve no blessings at the 
 hand of God or man. Havilah, I have never served hu 
 manity or Heaven. Let no one look for good at my hands. 
 I seek only to gratify the whim of an idler. One can 
 scarcely claim any merit," he added, with scarce percepti 
 ble irony, " for entering into competition with a Jewish knave 
 and usurer." 
 
 The severe and settled hopelessness of his tone and man 
 ner impressed Havilah even more than his bitter words. 
 She withdrew the hands which he could scarcely be said 
 to have retained at all, so cold and lifeless was his grasp. 
 She would gladly have opposed that self-condemnation by 
 which her heart told her that he wronged a generous na 
 ture ; but misery, which asks for no sympathy and acknowl 
 edges no claim, is a forbidding thing. Havilah was awed 
 by the spirit of gloom which she had herself invoked. 
 Her eyelids drooped, her lips refused any utterance. Sub 
 dued and silenced, she stole away from Meredith's side, 
 passed Father Lapierre without even a look, and sought 
 refuge in the cottage. 
 
 " He carries happiness in his hand, but sorrow is at his 
 heart," was her inward meditation. " He scatters blessings, 
 but himself eats the bread of grief." The gentle compas 
 sion which many had shared was now all expended on one, 
 and Havilah brushed away a tear, the same tear which, 
 a moment ago, joy had sent flashing to her eye, but which 
 transformed itself, ere it fell, into a tear of pity.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IN a certain sense Meredith spoke the truth when he 
 pronounced his resolution to farm the land to be the 
 whim of an idle man, for the benevolent purpose doubt 
 less had its source in emotions which forbade him, the 
 strong, the rich, the independent, to look idly on while 
 the poor were starving, and the old and the feeble were 
 spending their strength in vain. But, however much ca 
 price might have influenced the man with whom impulse 
 was always action, Meredith was not one to put his hand 
 to the plough and then turn back, and he soon became 
 a farmer in good earnest. 
 
 It was not enough to furnish money to the peasant, 
 and stand as a nominal barrier betwixt him and his op 
 pressors. The Lebanon mountaineers, though physically 
 fearless and brave, and capable as all mountain races are 
 of making forcible resistance to any attack upon their 
 personal liberty, are nevertheless children in their sim 
 plicity and trustfulness of character. Exposed to political 
 fraud and duplicity, they have long been accustomed to 
 seek shelter under the wing of some feudal protector ; and, 
 though often deceived and betrayed, they are glad to pur 
 chase immunity from risk at the price of a faithful al 
 legiance. El Fureidis, more fortunate than its neighbors, 
 had for years enjoyed prosperity and peace under the 
 honest guardianship of M. Trefoil ; in the incompetency 
 11*
 
 250 . EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 of the master, the little village had felt itself orphaned; 
 and finding in Meredith at once a benefactor and a me 
 diator, it hailed him, in Eastern parlance, not only as 
 " father of riches," but as " parent of wisdom," and " strong 
 arm of safety and power." 
 
 Thus the Englishman found himself brought into in 
 dividual relations with the peasantry, such as he never 
 had foreseen, such indeed as his reserved nature would 
 have repelled, had they been other than the gradual growth 
 of circumstances. 
 
 Each householder felt himself responsible to the How- 
 adji for the just use of his borrowed capital, each petty 
 husbandman claimed a right to the Howadji's advice in 
 respect to tillage and crops. The ploughman of the Bekaa 
 would postpone buying a yoke of oxen until the animals 
 had been inspected by the English eye; even the village 
 matrons anticipated with no little anxiety the tall young 
 Frank's encomiums upon their vegetable-gardens and poul 
 try-yards. 
 
 He became the arbiter of disputes, the judge from whose 
 decision there was no appeal, and in the occasional visits 
 which he made to the cities of the sea-board he found him 
 self, to his surprise, the commissioned agent for the purchase 
 of farming tools, provisions, and household utensils. 
 
 In all this he asked for no recompense, he hoped for 
 none. He nevertheless found his reward, not in Havilah's 
 approbation or encouragement, for they labored in differ 
 ent spheres, met but seldom, and betrayed no consciousness 
 of each other's pursuits, but occupation was medicine to 
 his soul, and Father Lapierre's prescription was already 
 working the patient's cure. 
 
 Not that Mej'fedith carried a light heart into his labors, 
 not that he became, in any degree, oblivious of the past.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 251 
 
 He was everywhere and at all times thoughtful, grave, 
 and sad. But life had become to him more earnest, his 
 deeper sympathies were aroused, his human instincts quick 
 ened. Each day brought duties which could not be post 
 poned or delegated to another ; the welfare of a whole 
 community was involved in them. The cry for help 
 appealed first to his purse, then to his time, finally to his 
 heart. 
 
 Havilah met him one morning outside the door of Tyi- 
 by's cottage. The young girl carried in her hand a basin 
 of broth for Tyiby's sick son, who had rallied from the fe 
 ver of the previous season only to waste with slow decline. 
 
 " You will be welcome," said Meredith, as, having touched 
 his hat and courteously wished her good morning, he stepped 
 back a pace or two, and held open the heavy door through 
 which he had just passed, and which he had left swinging 
 on its pivot. " The boy is faint with long fasting, and the 
 house affords no suitable food. I was about to send a mes 
 sage to you." 
 
 " He has watched beside my boy's bed ever since the 
 shadows of nightfall," said Tyiby, as she took the basin 
 from Havilah's hand, and looked after the retreating Eng 
 lishman. " A mother's blessing rest on his English hearth 
 and home." 
 
 " He is the last of his race, Tyiby," said Havilah, sol 
 emnly. " His father and sister have died in his absence. 
 The tidings have come to him over the sea. Father La- 
 pierre told me yesterday." 
 
 " Ah ! the unfortunate one ! May the Lord compassion 
 ate him ! " exclaimed Tyiby, with feeling. " But truly, O 
 child of lanthe ! " she continued, in a tone which had 
 changed from that of sympathy to Christian triumph, " the 
 Righteous One has not afflicted him in vain. Trouble has
 
 252 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 laid her hand on his brow," and the woman, with an ex 
 pressive gesture, drew her finger in horizontal lines across 
 her own forehead, " but sorrow is good seed sown here," 
 and she touched her heart. " Sunshine is beautiful on 
 young heads, Havilah, but it is the soft rain which ripens 
 the harvests." 
 
 Havilah was deeply struck with the truth, and its phra 
 seology. Tyiby had unconsciously drawn the reverse side 
 of that picture which Havilah had painted for her mother 
 several months before. 
 
 On another occasion, when Havilah was returning from 
 Baruk on one of her father's donkeys, and accompanied 
 only by Abou, she met in a narrow mountain-pass a young 
 man leading a camel. The unwieldy " ship of the desert " 
 was on an outward passage, laden merely with an axe, a 
 clumsy saw, and a few iron wedges. It was destined to 
 make the return voyage freighted with freshly-cut timber ; 
 for its master, son of Saad the miller, was a vigorous wood 
 cutter, and the repairs going forward at El Fureidis had 
 given an impetus to men of his craft. 
 
 Havilah stopped to exchange salutations, and inquire 
 after his children, who, having lost their mother within a 
 year past, were ordinarily intrusted to the old miller's 
 care during their father's absence on the mountain. 
 
 " My fledglings are well," answered the young man, 
 dropping upon one knee, and kissing Havilah's hand with 
 a grace which belongs to the Oriental of every grade. 
 " Blessings, lady, on those who saved their innocent lives ! " 
 
 "The Englishman was prompt in rescuing the sufferers 
 that night," said Havilah. " You are going to cut wood 
 on " 
 
 She desired to give a new turn to the dialogue, but the 
 young man interrupted her.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 253 
 
 "The stately deer," exclaimed he, "is sure to follow 
 where the young doe leads the way ; but a father's blessing 
 on you both. The master's daughter has the first place in 
 the people's heart, but we know how to be grateful to the 
 Englishman. I beheld him an hour ago, smoking a pipe, 
 in my father's court-yard. Kassim was playing with the 
 white hound of the Howadji; little Blossom was sitting 
 on his knee. The old man's face was a fountain of glad 
 ness, for the Frank has pledged his word, that, before the 
 olives are ripe in the orchards, the mill shall stand in its 
 place again, and be ready to press out the oil." 
 
 " How generous he is ! " said Havilah, with enthusiasm. 
 " He is a prince in his bounty. I hope the people are loyal 
 to him." 
 
 "The Howadji was a prince, O daughter of Trefoil," 
 said the woodman, " when he sat erect on his horse, and 
 scattered paras to the poor; but now he is something less 
 than a prince, and something more, for the peasants have 
 found in him a brother. We admire and fear the proud 
 eagle which soars afar off and looks at the sun ; but the 
 swallow which hears our children's call and nestles under 
 our roof-tree, is the bird whichwe love." 
 
 " How that proud English heart has melted ! How the 
 stranger has won the people's love!" thought Havilah, as 
 she journeyed homeward. She was musing thus, as she 
 drew near the village. 
 
 " Behold the Howadji," cried Abou, who was riding in 
 the rear. 
 
 " Where ? " exclaimed Havilah, starting from her reverie. 
 
 The old steward pointed to a figure at a little distance, 
 approaching by the same path they were pursuing. A 
 broad-brimmed hat concealed his face, his eyes were fixed 
 on the ground.
 
 254 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " This way, Abou," said Havilah, giving a nervous twitch 
 to her rein, and diverging into a side path, overshadowed 
 with shrubbery. "Go on, Abou; your donkey is fresher 
 than mine." 
 
 The old man went past his mistress at a trot. She loi 
 tered a moment under the shade of a clustering vine. The 
 Englishman came up the steep pathway, absent-minded, 
 thoughtful, and slow. With his cane he marked little cir 
 cles on the ground, a melancholy habit always. He never 
 once raised his eyes. Ignorantly, he passed within a few 
 feet of Havilah. It would have diverted, perhaps, the cur 
 rent of his meditations, had he known that she lingered 
 there, watched his coming, traced the lines of sadness on 
 his face, and sighed, went on a few paces, paused, looked 
 back, and sighed again. 
 
 Meredith had become a conscientious laborer, but his 
 temperament was not one which could be satisfied with slow 
 results ; and, fortunately for his yet unschooled patience, 
 evidences of success were not long wanting. In the genial 
 climate and fruitful soil of Lebanon the disasters of a sea 
 son, and the loss of a few weeks' spring-time, are not so 
 fatal to vegetation as in lands where the entire summer can 
 scarcely ripen a single crop of grain. Industry rather 
 than skill sufficed to repair all damages to the simple dwell 
 ings and rough terrace-walls of the peasants of El Fureidis ; 
 man, inspired by hope, wrought early and late, and nature 
 did the rest. 
 
 Thus El Fureidis soon rose upon its ruins ; shrubs, herbs, 
 and vines grew, stretched, and clambered, as if striving to 
 atone for past delay; flowers re-carpeted the earth, and 
 gardens of promise smiled where desolation had darkly 
 frowned. Thus the Scripture promise was literally fulfilled 
 to the villagers. They had "beauty for ashes, the oil of
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 255 
 
 joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of 
 heaviness." 
 
 One source of past prosperity, however, was wanting to 
 El Fureidis, nor did there seem to be any prospect of its 
 revival. The factory, which had furnished the peasants 
 with regular employment, and provided a sure market for 
 their silk produce, remained precisely as it fell on the night 
 of the catastrophe, as hopeless a ruin, apparently, as those 
 of the Canaanitish temples on the mountain-top. 
 
 The loss of this life-spring of industry and revenue, with 
 its bearing upon the fortunes of both people and master, was 
 naturally a subject of speculation to all who cherished an 
 interest in the common welfare, and it furnished a subject 
 for much deliberation between M. Lapierre and Meredith, 
 who might deservedly be styled, one the counsellor, the 
 other the financier of the district. 
 
 These two men, at this time, shared a common dwelling. 
 "With the freakishness of a clouded mind, M. Trefoil, once 
 domiciled in M. Lapierre's cottage, proved loath to quit it 
 for any other abode. Simple as were its arrangements, it 
 afforded, on the whole, more comforts than remained in the 
 dilapidated house of the manufacturer, and it was therefore 
 decided that he should continue to occupy it for the present. 
 Havilah, making light of her privations, cheerfully took pos 
 session of the little inner apartment, and Father Lapierre 
 found in the least shattered rooms at the villa all the accom 
 modation which his hardy habits demanded. For a while 
 the convent continued to be Meredith's nominal home ; but 
 gradually, as the demands upon his time made a nearer 
 residence to the village desirable, he became domesticated 
 in the very apartment which had formerly been allotted him 
 in the dwelling of M. Trefoil. Its walls, indeed, were rent, 
 its carpet and divans soiled and disfigured, its furniture
 
 256 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 broken or defaced ; but Meredith was becoming an anchorite 
 in the matter of luxuries ; the perfection of nature, and the 
 unrivalled atmosphere without, atoned for every in-door dis 
 comfort, and the missionary and the Englishman experi 
 enced no conscious wants in their household. 
 
 They were sitting together one afternoon in the central 
 saloon, which was the portion of the villa that had sustained 
 least injury from the shock. It was evident that their con 
 versation had been neither desultory nor languid ; for though 
 the day was warm, and the hour one usually devoted to 
 repose, their attitude and expression betrayed the earnest 
 ness of men engaged in mutual counsel. It would seem 
 that Meredith had been giving an account of his steward 
 ship, for he held in his hand a long memorandum of rents 
 and charges, which he finally folded and replaced in his 
 pocket, saying as he did so : "I have made it as simple as 
 possible, and have so managed that I believe each land 
 holder will be able to meet his payments as they fall due. 
 If not, I leave it with you, my dear sir, to grant any re 
 prieves you see fit. The business is simple ; I have been 
 gradually initiating Asaad into all its details, and know no 
 reason why he cannot henceforth represent me here." 
 
 " And you will leave us then ? " said Father Lapierre. 
 
 " Yes. There are those in England whom my father 
 cared for and befriended, and who now have claims on 
 me, claims which I might selfishly have overlooked or 
 slighted, but for the lesson taught me here. My presence 
 is no longer needed in El Fureidis. In England, I believe 
 I can be of use." 
 
 " Go, then, my son," said Father Lapierre, " and God go 
 with you. Heaven's breezes are sure to fill the sails of 
 him who has duty for his rudder." 
 
 " There is still one subject on which I would speak with 
 you," said Meredith, hesitatingly.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 257 
 
 " Speak on, my son." 
 
 " M. Trefoil, his resources, his future means of support. 
 Have you penetrated the mystery which clouds his affairs?" 
 
 " Not at all. Our friend's usual apathy in respect to the 
 business which recently engrossed him is only equalled by 
 the inconsistency of the statements which he has from time 
 to time made to me. On most subjects his mind has to a 
 great degree recovered its tone, but I almost despair of 
 ever obtaining any clear insight into his pecuniary condi 
 tion. I know of but one man who could throw any light 
 upon this obscurity, and that is Mustapha Osman, the rich 
 Turkish merchant at Damascus. He is the agent to whom 
 M. Trefoil's merchandise has been regularly consigned. 
 Some surplus funds may yet remain in his hands. I 
 strongly suspect, however, that the balance is in Musta- 
 pha's favor. In the latter case, I fear M. Trefoil and his 
 child are worse than beggared." 
 
 " They must not want," said Meredith, in a tone of re 
 solve ; " nor need they. M. Trefoil's state of mind is child 
 like and unquestioning. Havilah is ignorant of her father's 
 insolvency. Both will accept your guardianship. You will 
 labor among your flock ; Havilah, as ever, will second all 
 your efforts. It is a mission which those who cannot ac 
 tively aid should at least be proud to maintain. Let that 
 be my care. Do not forbid me this small privilege, this 
 sole consolation," he continued, with passionate eagerness, 
 as he already saw denial written on the features of M. La- 
 pierre. " What you refuse to friendship you will at least 
 let me lay on the altar of duty. You forget what I owe 
 to your ministry and her example. Here I might not, 
 perhaps, be your almoner; but if I go away, if I put tvo 
 thousand miles betwixt myself and El Fureidis, if I am 
 unknown in the matter to all but yourself, there need be 
 
 Q
 
 258 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 no scruples then. O my dear friend ! " he added, enforcing 
 his plea by a boyish urgency of toiie and gesture, " I only 
 ask to be a silent partner in your labors. Do you under 
 stand me ? " 
 
 " Too well, my son," said M. Lapierre, smiling kindly 
 on the young man, but at the same time shaking his head 
 in slow, emphatic negative to his appeal. " Havilah must 
 not be deceived. If she serve Christ for hire, she must 
 not do it in ignorance ; she must not engage even in Chris 
 tian warfare, without knowing at whose charges. The 
 free child of the mountain must not be trammelled even 
 by secret obligations. Do not chafe at the term," he con 
 tinued, silencing, by a wave of his hand, the expostulation 
 which Meredith was about to utter. " I do not misunder 
 stand you. I know you would be the last to esteem them 
 obligations, but such they would nevertheless be. Havi 
 lah is a courageous girl, she will not fear to meet the 
 truth." 
 
 " But the truth is cruel, it will not spare," cried Mere 
 dith, in tones of positive anguish. " I see written on its 
 face famine, cold, and want, a roofless home, an empty 
 storehouse, a childish father, an unprotected child. M. La 
 pierre," subjoined he, peremptorily, " I was Havilah's moth 
 er's friend. I have a right to befriend Havilah." 
 
 " Your right shall not be disputed," he answered, sooth 
 ingly. " But whatever you do must be done openly, and 
 with Havilah's consent." 
 
 " That can never be," exclaimed Meredith, with abrupt 
 ness. 
 
 " To be frank with you, I doubt if it can, in the form to 
 which you have alluded," responded M. Lapierre. " But 
 do not despair as to the future fortunes of M. Trefoil. You 
 may yourself aid in opening his pathway to better days. It
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 259 
 
 is possible you may be more successful than I have been in 
 discovering some clew to his embarrassments. Have you 
 ever questioned him in reference to pecuniary matters ? " 
 
 " I have not presumed to do so." 
 
 " Under the circumstances, it would be no presumption. 
 Follow up the hint I have given you regarding Mustapha 
 Osman. Obtain what information you can. I will reflect 
 upon the subject of our friend's affairs, and speak with you 
 again. Meanwhile, do not question, my son, that, whatever 
 be the lot of Havilah and her father, it will be well, for is 
 it not of" the Lord's appointing ? " 
 
 The pastor's hour of leisure was ended, and, taking up 
 his staff, he went out. Meredith looked at his watch. It 
 was near the time when Havilah usually met the missionary 
 at the village school, and, thinking it probable that he should 
 find M. Trefoil alone, Meredith sallied forth for the visit, 
 which it had become customary with him to take this op 
 portunity of paying the afflicted man. 
 
 The door of the primitive parsonage stood open, and 
 Meredith had gained the threshold, when he was arrested 
 by the sound of Havilah's voice from within. She seemed 
 to be reading aloud, and Meredith hastily retreated. But 
 he was too late. His shadow had fallen across the floor. 
 M. Trefoil recognized his figure as he withdrew, and called 
 to him in a tone so much more cheerful than was his wont, 
 that Meredith was arrested less by the words, " Hey ! my 
 friend, come in!" than by surprise at the heartiness of the 
 salutation. 
 
 Thus summoned, he entered the dwelling, the inner ob 
 scurity of which contrasted so strongly with the midday 
 glare outside, that his eye could only gradually distinguish 
 the occupants of the apartment. M. Trefoil himself was 
 the most prominent object. Wrapped in a flowered dress-
 
 260 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ing-gown, his feet encased in yellow slippers, and his red 
 tarboosh pushed back from his forehead, he sat upright 
 upon the centre of the divan, and Meredith saw at a 
 glance that his countenance wore an expression of anima 
 tion which had been wanting for many weeks past. Havi- 
 lah, with Ayib beside her, was seated on a cushion at her 
 father's feet. An open letter was on her lap. Meredith 
 did not see her until the gazelle rubbed its head against his 
 hand to attract attention. He then looked down at the little 
 creature, perceived its mistress also, and bowed. 
 
 Havilah met his glance, bent her head in acknowledg 
 ment, and kept her eyes fixed upon the written page, from 
 which she had been reading. At the same moment there 
 was a slight movement in a remote part of the room ; a 
 dark figure in loose drapery rose from the corner, in which 
 it had hitherto been concealed, and came forward a pace or 
 two. 
 
 " Ah, Abdoul, my boy ! is that you ? " exclaimed Mere 
 dith, with a start of surprise as he recognized his Arab 
 guide, of whom he had heard and seen nothing since the 
 youth disappeared, unnoticed by any one, on the day of 
 lanthe's burial. 
 
 Abdoul answered only by a silent obeisance ; and, retreat 
 ing into his corner, with one hand pressed upon his heart, 
 slunk back against the wall, drew his turban over his 
 brow, and folded his long, supple arms, or rather inter 
 twined them, like a cable, across his breast. 
 
 " Sit down, Mr. Meredith, sit down," cried M. Trefoil, 
 with something of that clear ring to his voice which had 
 ' formerly lent cordiality to his hospitable entreaties. Mer 
 edith took the seat to which his friend pointed. " We have 
 news," continued the latter, in a tone at once elated and 
 confidential, "news from an unexpected quarter, and very
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 261 
 
 welcome news too. Abdoul is a child of the desert, but he 
 sees the world for all that. Abdoul is fresh from the Paris 
 of the Orient. He brings us the latest news from Damas 
 cus ; and, what is best of all, a letter from my friend, Mus- 
 tapha Osman. Mustapha Osman has been my friend for 
 years, Mr. Meredith, ever since I have been in El Furei- 
 dls ; he is my consignee, my business agent, the framer of 
 my fortunes, I may say. His own fortune is large, large, 
 sir, it is gigantic. So is his heart ; he has the heart of an 
 emperor. He has written me a letter full of sympathy ; 
 not a word of business, but sympathy, yes, real sympa 
 thy ; " and with that quick transition of feeling which be 
 trayed the still enfeebled mind, M. Trefoil, as he repeated 
 the last word, became suddenly subdued, in his transitory 
 flow of spirits ; and added, in a broken voice, wiping the 
 tears from his eyes : " But you must hear what he says. 
 Havilah, read the letter to Mr. Meredith. Begin at the be 
 ginning, my daughter, I shall like to hear it again ; " and 
 M. Trefoil threw his handkerchief over his face, and settled 
 himself on the divan, preparatory to listening, for the third 
 time, to the grateful contents of the epistle. 
 
 The letter which Havilah read, in distinct, though now 
 and then trembling utterance, ran thus : 
 
 " Peace be with thee, O Augustine, brother of my heart, 
 and widowed husband of lanthe ! peace be with thee, 
 O man, greatly bereaved ! and may He that pitieth and 
 comforteth shower upon thee and upon thy household the 
 choicest blessings with which He blesses. I extend my 
 hand unto thee, O my brother, and embrace thee in my heart 
 of hearts. I can take the measure of thy consuming sorrow, 
 for did not the angel of Death snatch from my bosom the 
 faithful Fatimah, and bear her to the Paradise of the Prophet. 
 Time, the consoler, has lifted up the head that was bowed
 
 262 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 down ; but my spirit yet yearns for the beloved spouse of 
 my youth, Fatimah, chief among women. Thus I hail 
 thee, O man of sorrow ! and salute thee as a companion 
 who has drunk with me from the bitter wells of affliction. 
 Peace be with the dove-eyed daughter of thine house, who 
 reposes no longer on the maternal breast ; peace and bene 
 diction on the dark-haired Havilah, who came hither with 
 thee a bud of promise, and whom Abdoul, son of Zana- 
 deen, styles the Lebanon Rose. Say to the blooming maiden, 
 that Maysunah, sole child of my affection, has ripened but 
 to fade. She droops like a flower whose stem no longer 
 drinks in the dew. 
 
 " Tell him of the snowy beard, dwelling beside thee on 
 the sacred mount, that the aching soul of Mustapha remem 
 bers the gifts of his healing hand, and craves them for his 
 child. 
 
 " Come hither, I pray thee, O Augustine, my brother. 
 Damascus, a throned queen, sits among her gardens. Her 
 fragrant breezes woo the sick at heart. The doors of Mus 
 tapha stand open wide, his spirit welcomes thee from afar. 
 Come hither, and bring with thee a fair mate to Maysunah's 
 loneliness, and him to whom Allah has given power to read 
 disease and apply the remedy. Farewell ; may thy soul 
 take refuge with the Highest. The Ancient of benefits be 
 thy protector, and so fulfil the prayer of Mustapha. 
 
 " Written in the name of Allah, and in the faith of Al 
 lah's Prophet." 
 
 There was a short silence as Havilah finished reading. 
 It was broken by M. Trefoil, who, suddenly snatching away 
 the handkerchief from his face, exclaimed, energetically, 
 " Havilah, we must go to Damascus ! Father Lapierre 
 never refuses the call of the unfortunate. I must see my 
 friend, Mustapha. The journey will invigorate us all ; we 
 will go!"
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 263 
 
 "With a startled expression, Havilah rose, and leaned 
 on her father's shoulder, out of reach of his eye. His 
 sudden resolution and announcement alarmed her, and not 
 without reason. It was difficult to judge whether they 
 were the result of restored powers, or of an excitement 
 more unnatural and painful than his previous dulness and 
 apathy. She made no answer to his proposition. 
 
 " What say you, my child ? " he asked, looking up into 
 her face. 
 
 " As you think best," she answered, dutifully, though with 
 effort. Her heart trembled, not for herself, but for him. 
 Already she foresaw and dreaded the perils of the way. 
 
 But M. Trefoil dreaded nothing. His elastic spirit was 
 on the rebound. In a tone of exhilaration he now addressed 
 himself to Meredith. "You will go with us, my friend," 
 he said, in a tone of confident assertion. 
 
 Meredith, unprepared for such a challenge, hesitated, and 
 glanced at Havilah. Her eye was fixed upon him, as if in 
 his answer was her only hope. "I will," he responded, 
 with decision. 
 
 " It is settled then, and we all go to Damascus in com 
 pany," proclaimed M. Trefoil, rubbing his hands together, 
 in his characteristic way, as a token of satisfaction ; and, a 
 new and welcome turn thus given to his thoughts, he ex 
 hausted an hour of conversation in forming plans and mak 
 ing suggestions concerning the journey so abruptly deter 
 mined on. But he alone was at ease. Havilah looked 
 distressed and anxious ; Meredith, doubtful of the part he 
 was expected to play. 
 
 As he rose to go, and M. Trefoil preceded him through 
 the door-way, the young man, resolved to make sure of his 
 position, stepped back, and said, in a low and apologetic 
 tone, "Have I offended Havilah by my promise to her 
 father?"
 
 264 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Offended ? 0, no ! " she answered, her eyes glistening 
 through tears. " You are our best friend. You are like a 
 father to the villagers ; you are like a son to my father." 
 
 As she inadvertently spoke the last words, and their im 
 port flashed upon her ; the beautiful face, which a moment 
 before had been unnaturally pale, became deeply tinged 
 with crimson. 
 
 But Meredith, if he observed, mistook the cause of her 
 confusion. In his manly simplicity he gave only the most 
 natural interpretation to her words, and replied, as if re 
 assured on a mere point of doubt : " Thank you ; you are 
 too kind. I do not deserve your praise ; but, with your per 
 mission, I shall be proud and happy to travel with you to 
 Damascus ; " and, his resolution thus confirmed, he bade 
 her farewell. 
 
 In the corner, meanwhile, sat one who needed no such 
 confirmation of the truth. He could not hear the last, low- 
 spoken words of the Englishman and Havilah, nor did his 
 quick instincts demand any such literal medium of inter 
 course. With that keenness unknown to the civilized man, 
 the young savage had marked that mutual play of feature 
 which was to him an open book. His flashing eyes, like 
 electric balls, had intercepted the subtile fluid which was 
 transmitted along the line of thought, and with unerring 
 accuracy he read the import of the telegraphic message.
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 PASS over now the preparations for journeying, and be 
 hold our travellers on their route to Damascus. A pilgrim 
 band, winding single file over a precipitous pass, furnishes a 
 picturesque scene in any mountain-land. In Lebanon, to 
 follow such a company is to turn the pages of a gilded 
 romance. Nature unfolds all her treasures, and tells a story 
 of every clime. Grandeur and softness, ruggedness and 
 beauty, richness and desolation, alternate in the tale, and the 
 moving figures in the foreground of the panorama lend inter 
 est and life to the whole. Here the gay trappings of horses 
 and mules, the flowing robes of guides and dragomans, con 
 trast with a heavy background of gray rock or pine ; there 
 the little procession has come out into the sunlight, which 
 flashes back from silver-mounted bridles, sabre-hilts, and 
 glittering gun-barrels. As men and animals wind along the 
 brow of some steep acclivity, the minute outlines of their 
 forms are defined against the clear blue sky; as they de 
 scend into the shady wady or rocky ravine the procession 
 is lost to sight, to reappear at some unexpected cleft in the 
 mountain-side. 
 
 The bridle-path was intricate, but well known to the 
 inhabitants of the district, and two native muleteers led the 
 van of M. Trefoil's party. Beside the animals which they 
 rode, each had charge of a sumpter mule, laden with the 
 cumbrous equipment essential on a Syrian journey, where 
 12
 
 266 EL FUREIDIS 
 
 no way-side inn awaits the traveller. Meredith followed, 
 mounted on the jet-black Arab horse which had been the 
 companion of many months' wandering, and was obedient 
 to the slightest word of its rider. When he and Abdoul for 
 sook both baggage and saddle-horses to join the funeral 
 train of lanthe, all their steeds made instant escape in the 
 direction of the desert, and it was in pursuance of their 
 tracks that, later in the evening, Abdoul likewise fled from 
 El Fureidis ; but long before the youth reappeared to report 
 only partial success in the recovery of his master's property, 
 the faithful Arabian horse had made its way back to El 
 Fureidis, had recognized the Englishman, had rubbed its 
 graceful head against his shoulder, and with a coaxing eye 
 entreated to be taken once more into his service. 
 
 A somewhat heavily-built nag served the turn of M. Tre 
 foil, whom habit had never made a good horseman, and who 
 loved a sober steed. The good man's breath came short, 
 and his otherwise voluble tongue was effectually silenced by 
 the jolting exercise of the road, except as he occasionally 
 gathered voice for an anxious inquiry or a sudden expres 
 sion of alarm, caused by the difficulties of the path ; but 
 Meredith's experience and encouragement came constantly 
 to his aid, and the courage and endurance which had flagged 
 in the outset gained strength as he proceeded. 
 
 Nothing could have been in greater contrast to the corpu 
 lent figure and timid horsemanship of M. Trefoil thau the 
 erect and dignified posture of M. Lapierre, who rode with 
 the easy grace of an ancient cavalry officer, reining in 
 a fractious horse with one hand, while with the other he 
 pointed out to Havilah the most striking features of the 
 prospect. 
 
 Havilah's attention was divided between the conversation 
 of M. Lapierre and anxiety for her father, while at inter-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 267 
 
 vals her mind was abstracted from both by the necessity of 
 soothing and checking her spirited gray mare, the same 
 which had been Meredith's legacy to her on leaving El Fu- 
 reidis, and which, now curvetting and frisking like a young 
 colt, continually strove to break from the line of march, 
 shaking its silken mane, curling its nostrils disdainfully, and 
 casting from its chestnut eye an oblique, intelligent glance 
 at its mistress, which seemed to say, " This is tedious busi 
 ness for you and me, pretty one ! " 
 
 Geita, who had pleaded hard for the indulgence of a visit 
 to the Eastern capital, and had boasted of her ability to 
 endure fatigue, began to droop in the saddle. She had 
 assumed not a few coquettish airs on bidding adieu to her 
 fellow-servants ; but either her spirits had become ex 
 hausted with travel, or this once vagabond child of a Turk 
 ish janizary already missed the society of Bachmet, over 
 whom, in virtue of her Osmanli parentage, she was accus 
 tomed to exercise a species of petty tyranny, equally agree 
 able to both parties. 
 
 Meredith's travelling accoutrement brought up the rear 
 of the mountain caravan. It consisted, independently of 
 Abdoul, of three armed men, and twice that number of 
 horses. The men were Arabs, stragglers of Sheik Zana- 
 deen's tribe, and associates of Abdoul, in company with 
 whom they had recently come to El Fureidis. They were 
 wild, ill-visaged fellows, but expert riders, and glad for a 
 trifling compensation to engage in the service of the Frank ? 
 and take charge of the pack-horses ; the latter having been 
 found indispensable for the transportation of those luxuries 
 of Eastern travel which Meredith's experience had proved 
 necessary, and the deficiency of which in the provisioning of 
 the party he had foreseen and guarded against. 
 
 Abdoul, nominal guide and dragoman of the expedition,
 
 268 EL FOREIDIS. 
 
 came last of all. His services for the time superseded by 
 those of the skilful mountaineers of the district, he was at 
 liberty to manifest that dogged indifference which well be 
 came his humor. He seemed, indeed, to have infused his 
 sulkiness into the Khadhere, which hung her head, and 
 trailed along with slow, unwilling pace, as if reluctant to en 
 gage in the proposed enterprise, or accept the companion 
 ship forced upon her. 
 
 For more than three hours the travellers pursued a 
 northeasterly direction, the road a mere mountain goat- 
 track, and the heat of the sun (for it was now the month 
 of May) becoming towards midday blinding and oppres 
 sive. Their first destination was Kubb Elias, at which 
 point they were to strike the route of the semi-weekly post 
 from Beyrout to Damascus. A morning ride across the 
 highlands of the Lebanon is sufficient to weary the sturdi 
 est horsemen, and it was with no little satisfaction that our 
 party, on gaining an elevated point, beheld at a little dis 
 tance a ruined castle and a flowing stream of water, both 
 of which were landmarks to the adjacent village. An 
 easy and quick descent brought the cavalcade to the desired 
 halting-place. Soon, horses were picketed, luncheon-baskets 
 unpacked, and beside the clear stream, beneath a grove of 
 spreading poplars, the tired company found rest, refresh 
 ment, and shade. 
 
 They had now gained the borders of the fertile plain of 
 the Bekaa, luxuriant in verdure and grain-crops. Mejdel, 
 at which place they proposed encamping for the night, was 
 visible in the distance. A journey of several hours in 
 tervened, but the road was level, the ride easy, and the 
 temptation to linger in the pleasant gardens of Kubb Elias 
 irresistible. It was not until long after noon, therefore, that 
 the party were again in the saddle.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 269 
 
 The nature of the route no longer compelled them to 
 move in single file, as had been the case during the morn 
 ing. They preserved scarcely less uniformity, however, in 
 their grouping, Meredith still maintaining a close proxim 
 ity to M. Trefoil, and seeming wholly engrossed with his 
 society ; Havilah, whose mare had learned to subdue her 
 paces, riding leisurely between M. Lapierre and Abdoul. 
 The morose mood of the latter had been sensibly amelio 
 rated by Havilah's considerate kindness, and his taciturnity 
 had yielded to the efforts of M. Lapierre, who, pitying the 
 youth's isolated position in the company, had beckoned him 
 alongside, and contrived to make him a partner in the 
 conversation, which, as it turned chiefly upon localities and 
 routes, was one in which the desert rover was well fitted 
 to bear a part. 
 
 An hour and a half of steady riding brought our travel 
 lers to a branch of the Litany, which coursed lazily through 
 the plain. They crossed it by means of a modern-built 
 bridge, journeyed on through fields of wheat and barley 
 for two hours more, and just at sunset gained the village 
 which was their destination for the night. It was an un 
 promising place, made hideous by the poverty and filth 
 of its inhabitants, the vermin that overrun their houses, and 
 the barking of inhospitable dogs. 
 
 M. Trefoil's horse had flagged considerably towards the 
 latter end of the day's journey, leaving his rider and the 
 faithful Englishman a little in the rear of their party. By 
 the time they gained the -village, M. Lapierre, Abdoul, and 
 the attendant muleteers had dismounted, and were sur 
 rounded by a swarm of peasants, all of whom were eager 
 to make over the discomforts of their dwellings to the well- 
 accoutred travellers. 
 
 " Do not alight, I beg of you," said Meredith to Havilah,
 
 270 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 who still remained in the saddle, reluctant to commit herself 
 to the tender mercies of some wrinkled hags who were 
 beckoning to her from the low doorways. " There is no 
 tolerable place of shelter here ; I am confident we can 
 manage better for ourselves ; " and, springing from his 
 horse, he approached Father Lapierre, and addressed to him 
 a few eager words. M. Lapierre listened attentively, fol 
 lowing the direction of Meredith's finger, which pointed to 
 a picturesque ruin on a hill at a little distance. Abdoul was 
 then reluctantly drawn into the council, a low decisive word 
 was whispered in the ear of M. Trefoil, signs were made to 
 the muleteers, and in an instant all had remounted, Mere 
 dith had grasped the bridle of Havilah's mare, which had 
 become restive in the confusion, and the whole party had 
 galloped off in the direction of the ruined temple, followed 
 by the howls of the infuriated dogs and the hooting of the 
 disappointed peasantry. 
 
 Among other cumbrous articles of convenience Meredith 
 had not neglected to bring with him his travelling tents. 
 The process of encamping is usually in the East noisy and 
 confused ; but the skill of Abdoul and the resolute energy 
 of Meredith had reduced it to a system, so that to choose a 
 spot, unload the mules, and erect the temporary lodging, 
 involved scarcely more time or trouble than that employed 
 by the host of an English inn in arranging a guest-room for 
 the squire of a neighboring parish. 
 
 While active preparations for the night are going for 
 ward beneath the shadow of the ancient temple, and M. 
 Trefoil has seated himself to watch the proceedings, we will 
 follow M. Lapierre, Meredith, and Havilah, who are im 
 proving the half-hour of twilight by inspecting the inter 
 esting ruin, which, situated on the summit of a little tell 
 overlooking Mejdel, challenges the curiosity of the traveller.
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 271 
 
 " This, then, is a remnant of ancient Chalcis," said Mere 
 dith in a musing tone, as his eye wandered from the im 
 posing masonry of the temple walls to the graceful Ionic 
 columns, half overgrown with ivy, which lay scattered in 
 every direction. " And these massive monoliths and broken 
 shafts are specimens of an architecture even more remote 
 than that of Baalbec and Palmyra." 
 
 " You are right in respect to time, though not strictly so 
 in point of locality," answered M. Lapierre. " This is 
 doubtless the ruin of a structure erected by some prince of 
 Chalcis, and its site is included in the rich province of 
 which the city was the capital ; but look yonder," and M. 
 Lapierre pointed to a few blackened heaps scarcely distin 
 guishable in the distance; "there, to the northeast of us, 
 almost overlaid with rubbish and vegetation, are the sole 
 remains of a city over which Ptolemies and Herods have 
 been proud to bear sway. Two or three miserable hovels 
 with their wretched occupants now represent the wealth and 
 royalty of an almost forgotten past." 
 
 " But nature was never more royal than now," exclaimed 
 Havilah. " Hermon is still a king. See how his diadem 
 glistens in the western sunlight. See how, all over the 
 plain, the waving grain bends to do him homage." 
 
 " The foundations of the everlasting hills cannot be re 
 moved," said Father Lapierre, impressively. "Hermon 
 has witnessed the rise and fall of many dynasties. The 
 great ages do the bidding of the Lord ; the mountains are 
 his silent watchmen. Another cycle of God's providence has 
 nearly run its course in this land ; but Hermon looks calmly 
 on, as if conscious of the Almighty hand which, when it 
 has reaped its harvest, will delay not to sweep the stubble 
 from the soil." 
 
 " You, speak of the power of Ottoman misrule," said 
 Meredith.
 
 272 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 " I do. It needs no prophetic eye to see that this age is 
 ripe, and that Syria is soon destined to be rid of her tyrant. 
 I look confidently forward to the time when men shall cease 
 to curse the land which God has blessed, when commerce 
 shall flourish on our shores, agriculture disclose the teeming 
 wealth of the soil, and Christianity flourish in the land of 
 its nativity." 
 
 " You believe, then, in a national progress, of which there 
 are as yet but faint indications," remarked Meredith. 
 
 " I must confess that, during my sojourn in the land, noth 
 ing has impressed me so forcibly as the primitive usages of 
 the people, and their neglect of the natural opportunities 
 which the country affords. The village where you and M. 
 Trefoil have labored so successfully, is one of those few 
 exceptions which prove, rather than contradict, the general 
 rule." 
 
 " True, my son ; but you must remember that Syria has 
 been trampled on for centuries by a succession of tyrants. 
 The present government is a mere system of bribery and 
 exaction. No country can develop itself internally, so long 
 as it is the victim of foreign oppression. But the pres 
 ent state of things cannot continue. It is a stirring and 
 an eventful age. Already men's eyes are turned upon us. 
 Western Europe and enterprising America are emulating 
 each other in their beneficent labors in this direction. Sci 
 ence is sounding our harbors, calculating the height of our 
 mountains, surveying our wildernesses, and taking the meas 
 ure of our streams ; and religion lends her aid and sanction 
 to the work, for a faithful band of Christian missionaries 
 are in the van of the reforming army. Asia, until now a 
 jealous recluse, is flinging open her doors to the stranger. 
 Syria is the key to the whole continent ; and who can ques 
 tion that the son of the "West will make for himself a high-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 273 
 
 way through her deserts ? Ignorance and tyranny must 
 stand aside at his coming. The oppressor shall then be 
 dethroned. God stands at the helm, and holds the nations 
 in the hollow of his hand. He will remove the diadem, 
 and take off the crown, and exalt him that is low, and abase 
 him that is high. He will overturn, overturn, overturn, 
 until he come whose right it is. 
 
 " Even in the desolation around me," continued the old 
 man, with the enthusiasm of one inspired by his subject, 
 " I see the foundation of future prosperity ; this land, deeply 
 furrowed by the plough of disaster, is to me a rich soil, 
 beneath which a seed of promise is ready to sprout and 
 thrive. But you have not watched our present crumbling 
 institutions as I have, Mr. Meredith, nor calculated the 
 innate resources of our country. I can scarcely expect you 
 to share my faith in Syria." 
 
 " Perhaps not," replied Meredith, thoughtfully ; " for faith 
 comes by knowledge, and my faith I confess is but partial. 
 I can see destruction," and he stretched out both hands, as if 
 to embrace the surrounding prospect, "but where is the 
 harvest ? One need not go far to encounter ruin, but to the 
 fruits of it I acknowledge I am blind." 
 
 "Nevertheless, it is a law of God's providence," said 
 Father Lapierre, " that the ruin of the old shall serve as a 
 foundation for the new. That prostrate wall " and he 
 pointed to a gigantic layer of stones " may yet prove 
 material for another generation's use ; those massive columns 
 may grace the portal to some nobler structure. Remember, 
 my son, that the fairest temple the world ever knew was 
 stricken .for man's offences, to become the chief corner-stone 
 of the church on earth ; and this sacrifice Avas a type of what 
 has been and shall be to the end of time, the outward 
 perisheth, but the inward is renewed day by day." 
 12* K
 
 274 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Yes, day by day," mused Meredith aloud, " gradually, 
 imperceptibly, as if to test our faith. Destruction cometh 
 like a whirlwind, the repair is slow. Syria has long been 
 a waste, but I trust there is an unfulfilled promise for her 
 still. God and his servants hasten on the day, for indeed 
 she is a goodly land." 
 
 The short twilight had nearly faded away ; the crest of 
 Hermon alone glistened with the last purple rays ; the stars 
 had shot out all over the sky, brilliant, beautiful, as stars of 
 the Orient alone can be ; the plain shimmered in their radi 
 ance like a swelling sea ; the mounds that dot it3 surface 
 reared themselves like islands in the deep; the figures 
 mounted on the ruinous moulding of the temple wall were 
 dimly visible even to one another. The whole scene was 
 grand, illusive, shadowy. It favored meditation, and the 
 thoughts of all soared awhile on the wings of silence, a 
 silence which was suddenly broken by a voice just behind 
 the group saying, in an earnest tone, " Sing, Havilah, sing ; 
 it is the hour ! " 
 
 " Havilah turned her head slightly, saw her father, who 
 had noiselessly climbed the wall, and, responding at once to 
 his request, sang sweetly and without hesitation : 
 
 " Through night to light ! And though to mortal eyes 
 
 Creation's face a pall of horror wear, 
 Good cheer ! good cheer ! The gloom of midnight flics; 
 Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair. 
 
 " Through storm to calm ! And though his thunder-car 
 The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky, 
 Good cheer ! good cheer ! The elemental war 
 Tells that a blessed healing hour is nigh. 
 
 " Through cross to crown ! And though thy spirit's life 
 
 Trials untold assail with giant strength, 
 Good cheer ! good cheer ! Soon ends the bitter strife, 
 And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 275 
 
 i 
 
 " Through woe to joy ! And though at morn thou weep, 
 
 And though the midnight finds thee weeping still, 
 Good cheer ! good cheer ! The Shepherd loves his sheep ; 
 Resign thee to the watchful Father's will." 
 
 The effect of the song was at once solemn and inspiring. 
 It was as if they had been at worship in the temple, and the 
 service was ended. All now turned to depart. M. Trefoil 
 stumbled slightly among the loose stones ; and M. Lapierre, 
 who was nearest him, proffered a supporting arm. Havi- 
 lah still stood upon the wall ; Meredith held out his hand to 
 assist her descent. She needed no such aid, but accepted 
 the courtesy, and they returned together to the tent. 
 
 " Thank you," said Meredith, " for my share in your 
 music. The pure in heart have visions, and see prophe 
 cies amidst the clouds which wrap grosser senses in dark 
 ness. Bless you for your song of promise and cheer. The 
 mind may grope among doubts and fears, but harmonies 
 touch the soul." 
 
 " Because they are true," said Havilah. 
 
 "You are right," responded Meredith, meditatively. 
 " Truth is an inspiration and a harmony. Falsehood only 
 is a discord. Ah ! " he exclaimed, stopping short, and look 
 ing anxiously at Havilah, " why do you start thus? " 
 
 " A sudden fear," said Havilah, hastily. " It is past," she 
 added, with forced calmness of tone, but trembling visibly. 
 She had caught sight of two panther-like eyes, glaring 
 from a hollow in the rocks. Wild beasts often prowl among 
 the deserted ruins of Syria, and for a moment she believed 
 such an one about to spring upon her ; but with the next 
 glance she had recognized Abdoul, crouching like a beast 
 in his lair, and evidently playing the spy. Her first cause 
 of alarm was dissipated, it is true, to be succeeded by an 
 other scarcely less appalling, as she detected the savage,
 
 276 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 fiery leer with which the boy's eyes were fastened, not upon 
 herself, but her companion. 
 
 " Something startled you. You were not alarmed with 
 out cause," said Meredith, pausing to look about him. He 
 saw nothing, however. 
 
 " It is so dark here," suggested Havilah ; " one imagines 
 strange things in the dark," and she made a movement 
 to hurry on. 
 
 " Yes ; and your nerves have been tried too much of late. 
 Besides, it is growing cold. The tent-fire will be welcome ; 
 let us hasten in; " and, drawing her cloak around her, and 
 placing her hand within his arm, he conducted her with 
 kind, almost brotherly tenderness, to a small tent pitched 
 without the rums, and intended for her own and Geita's 
 accommodation. 
 
 " What could she have seen or fancied ? " he said to him 
 self, as he retraced his steps among the ruins, and sought 
 diligently for some object of alarm ; but the place was by 
 this time deserted, and after a fruitless examination he 
 returned to his own tent, where supper was spread, and 
 Abdoul was innocently occupied in preparing coffee. 
 
 Dawn, the next morning, found M. Trefoil on the alert. 
 Exercise and fresh air were already invigorating him; his 
 wonted activity was to some degree restored. He felt him 
 self the responsible leader of a company, and with officious 
 zeal hurried about the little encampment, exhorting all to be 
 in readiness for an early start. The advice was seasonable, 
 for the day promised to be warm. No time, therefore, was 
 lost ; and after a hasty breakfast, which consisted merely of 
 the remnants of last night's repast, the majority of the party 
 mounted, and set forth under the guidance of M. Trefoil's 
 Syrian attendants, Abdoul and the men of his tribe being 
 left to strike the tents and follow.
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 277 
 
 For an hour the road lay between gently sloping hills, 
 densely shaded with oak and hawthorn ; then across a 
 dreary, ill-cultivated plain, overshadowed by a rugged 
 mountain-range. At the farther extremity of this plain 
 the little cavalcade halted, to await the arrival of Abdoul 
 and Meredith's men, being anxious to muster in full force 
 before entering Wady el Kurn (Valley of the Horn), a nar 
 row pass haunted by lawless bandits, and associated with 
 many a deed of blood. 
 
 " Would it not be prudent to send Abdoul on in ad 
 vance ? " questioned Havilah, glancing down the dark, tor 
 tuous windings of the glen, then shuddering slightly as she 
 watched the rapid approach of the Arab horsemen, whose 
 sinister faces, and black elf-locks fluttering in the breeze, 
 imparted to them a forbidding appearance. " Abdoul has 
 a keen scent of danger, and knows the way perfectly," she 
 added, as if anxious to apologize for a proposition which 
 seemed uncalled for. 
 
 The remark was addressed to Father Lapierre, though 
 intended for Meredith, to whom it was equally audible. 
 
 " There is no possibility of mistaking the path," said M. 
 Lapierre, decidedly. " We have only to follow the bed of 
 the torrent at the bottom of the ravine, and there are too 
 many elements of safety in our party for us to dread a lurk 
 ing enemy." 
 
 Meredith said nothing, but he marked the disturbance 
 evinced in Havilah's features. He could not account for 
 the fears of one usually so courageous ; but he had a chival 
 rous respect for them, nevertheless. " Take the lead, Ab 
 doul," was his somewhat imperious command to the youth, 
 who, as the company filed off", showed a disposition to linger 
 in the rear. The boy gave an angry look at his master, a 
 searching one at Havilah, then sulkily obeyed the mandate.
 
 278 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 Havilah's undefined fears were relieved, as she thus saw 
 all communication cut off between the young chief and the 
 men of his tribe, who with their pack-horses were destined 
 to bring up the line ; she had no dread of the ordinary 
 perils which have given an ill repute to Wady el Kurn. 
 
 It was nevertheless a place to test the traveller's courage. 
 M. Trefoil counselled rapid riding. M. Lapierre's keen eye 
 pierced a little anxiously within the thick copsewood which 
 lined the narrow pass. Meredith drew out his pistol?, and 
 kept as close to Havilah as the nature of the ground would 
 permit. 
 
 This critical part of their route, however, was compassed 
 without any other adventure or cause of alarm than the 
 momentary trepidation occasioned by Geita, who, when 
 about midway in the pass startled the whole party by a 
 succession of shrieks, and the positive declaration that she 
 saw men prowling on the heights above and heard the re 
 port of a rifle. As the expected assailants proved to be a 
 couple of majestic eagles standing with folded wings on a 
 lofty cliff, and the concussion of a bursting water-bottle on 
 the back of one of the mules had been magnified into a 
 musket-shot, the incident served on the whole to place even 
 reasonable apprehensions in a grotesque light, and resolve 
 possible peril into absurdity. 
 
 After issuing from the glen, an hour's moderate riding 
 brought our travellers to a fine spring beside a ruined khan. 
 Here they halted awhile, more for the refreshment of the 
 horses than their riders, for the place was uninviting, and 
 the khan afforded no shelter from the sun. It was there 
 fore decided that they should press on as rapidly as possible, 
 in the hope of reaching Damascus before sunset. 
 
 The route was for the most part dreary, stretching be 
 tween barren hills, then opening on an extensive plateau,
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 279 
 
 wholly destitute of verdure. The view embraced nearly 
 one hundred square miles, yet there was not a tree nor 
 shrub to break the dull uniformity. Even the group of 
 hills, dimly seen in the distance, chilled the senses with 
 their cold, bare outline. 
 
 The ground beneath the horses' feet was hard and flint- 
 strewn ; anywhere but in the East the scene would have 
 been hopelessly forlorn. But in Syria, land of contrasts, 
 let the traveller never despair. A sudden break in the 
 hard-featured landscape, an unforeseen descent, a plunge 
 into the heart of this stony creation, and behold the change ! 
 A pai'ched soil, a scorching sun, a Sahara of desolation, has 
 given place to verdure, fragrance, cool shade, and sparkling 
 rills. Through the midst of the dell flows the Barada, the 
 ancient Abana, famed river of Damascus. Little villages 
 are embowered on its banks, embracing on either side the 
 beneficent and life-giving stream which hastens lovingly on, 
 defying obstacles. 
 
 Follow up the ravine awhile, cross the river by a sub 
 stantial bridge, wind through pleasant village gardens, then 
 strike boldly up the naked white cliffs beyond. Behind 
 you lies the desert, intersected by Abana with her thread 
 of green ; press on through a rock-hewn path, mount pa 
 tiently to the height of land, and pause not until at the 
 summit you gain a little domed wely, or shrine, landmark 
 of the traveller. 
 
 Before you is spread Damascus, "the diamond of the 
 desert," the pearl of the Orient, " the perennial city." You 
 stand where Mahomet stood when he gazed upon the fair 
 est spot on earth, then heroically turned his back upon it, 
 exclaiming, "There is but one Paradise for the faithful, 
 and I will not have mine below." You behold the glitter 
 ing white-domed capital sitting among her gardens, a gar-
 
 280 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 landed queen, while the golden Abana, her monarch and her 
 mate, pours boundless wealth into her lap. You may go the 
 world over, you will never see a more enrapturing vision. 
 
 Drawn up in file beside the little wely, our travellers 
 lingered on the brow of the cliff, loath by speech or move 
 ment to break the spell which bound them to the spot. 
 It has been well said, that nothing less than a city of 
 palaces, whose walls are marble and whose doors are ivory 
 and pearl, could keep up the enchantment of that distant 
 view. No wonder, then, that imagination shrinks from the 
 near reality. 
 
 There was a motive, moreover, for delay on the part of 
 M. Trefoil and his party. Abdoul had been sent forward 
 an hour ago to announce to Mustapha Osman the arrival 
 of his guests, and, consistently with Eastern customs, it was 
 no more than reasonable to expect that Mustapha, or some 
 delegate of his household, should ride forth and meet the 
 strangers at the city gates. 
 
 Nor was the anticipation disappointed. Long before the 
 eager eyes of his companions were satisfied with gazing, 
 M. Trefoil, in whom the sentiment of friendship super 
 seded the love of the beautiful, and who had been eagerly 
 scanning the direct approach to the city, proclaimed, in a 
 tone of exhilaration, that he could distinguish Mustapha 
 and a band of followers just emerging from one of the 
 principal gateways. 
 
 This announcement was listened to at first with incre 
 dulity, but as the well-mounted troop drew nearer, and the 
 white mare and flame-colored robe of Abdoul figured con 
 spicuously among the Turkish escort, all doubts as to the 
 identity of the parties were dispelled, and, encouraging their 
 weary horses to one last brisk gallop, the little cavalcade, 
 with M. Trefoil at its head, made a rapid descent into the 
 plain.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 21 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 M. TREFOIL had, in his eagerness, deceived himself as 
 to the identity of his friend, Mustapha. The venerable 
 Turk who rode conspicuously in front of the approaching 
 troop was not the merchant, but his major-domo and 
 representative, who had been commanded to sally forth 
 and meet the travellers, his master, meanwhile, preparing 
 to receive and welcome them in due state at his own portal. 
 The ambassador of the rich Damascene was no mean per 
 sonage, however. A turban of gigantic dimensions, a gray 
 head of proportionate size, a richly flowered pelisse, and 
 an elaborately caparisoned horse, combined to render his 
 person distinguished, while a solemn countenance and lu 
 dicrously majestic demeanor proclaimed the dignity of his 
 office. 
 
 He was attended by a couple of Abyssinian slaves and 
 a native interpreter. The latter had been despatched as 
 a special bearer of hospitable entreaties to his Excellency, 
 the English Milord, whose arrival in the company M. Tre 
 foil had not failed to announce to his friend, and who was 
 presumed by the latter to be ignorant of the Turkish 
 tongue, the only language the major-domo had at command. 
 
 Meredith, who had not dreamed of intruding upon the 
 hospitalities of Mustapha, politely evaded the solicitations 
 of the interpreter; but his objections and scruples were 
 finally overruled by the Turkish master of ceremonies,
 
 282 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 who, discovering his Excellency's familiarity with the Os- 
 manli language, gravely assured him that the dwelling of 
 Mustapha Osman was the dwelling of his Excellency ; that 
 if its walls were not sufficiently wide, Mustapha Osman 
 would himself seek lodgings elsewhere ; but that it would 
 be derogatory to the dignity of the Turkish Effendi, that 
 the friend of his friend should be dependent on the hospi 
 tality of a hireling. 
 
 The matter being set in this light, Meredith, who had. 
 now become versed in Eastern etiquette, realized the neces 
 sity of yielding with a good grace ; without further parley 
 ing, he therefore dismissed Abdoul and the other Bedouin 
 attendants, and consigned the pack-horses and baggage to 
 their charge, reserving only his leather portmanteau, which 
 was transferred to one of M. Trefoil's mules. With a reti 
 nue thus sensibly diminished, the travellers entered the city 
 gate, and took the direction of the house of Mustapha. 
 
 The approach to Damascus had wound through beautiful 
 gardens and fragrant orchards. The fine old Eoman portal 
 which furnished admittance within the walls gave promise 
 of grand architectural effects. 
 
 The moment the narrow, dark, and dirty streets were 
 gained, however, the illusion vanished. It was now nearly 
 nightfall. As the party threaded one tortuous alley after 
 another, filing between rows of dilapidated buildings, over 
 hanging projections, and distorted piles of masonry, they all 
 experienced that sudden depression of spirits consequent 
 upon a close atmosphere, uncertain lights and shadows, and 
 the sense of prison-like isolation which one feels on find 
 ing himself encompassed by the windowless exterior walls 
 of Eastern dwellings. Here a line of loaded camels 
 blocked up the passage, there a pack of lean dogs were 
 snarling over a bone. Otherwise, the gutter-like streets 
 were well-nigh deserted.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 283 
 
 Meredith looked from right to left, with an astonishment 
 not unmixed with disgust. " Fancy and romance have be 
 stowed many poetical names upon Damascus," he remarked 
 to M. Lapierre, who rode beside him. " I should add to 
 them one more, and style it the Desert Mirage. Can it be 
 possible that this is the fairy city which we saw yonder ? " 
 
 " Truly so," answered Father Lapierre. " But you for 
 get that the East is the land of enchantment. A genuine 
 Oriental soon learns to calm his transports, whether of 
 pleasure or of pain. His philosophy and his experience 
 teach him that distance and proximity are alike illusive. 
 The former does not deceive him, nor the latter discourage. 
 The fickle fortunes of Prince Aladdin, the fabled hero of 
 youth, were, you remember, but a dream ; still they fore 
 shadow the experiences of many an imaginative traveller. 
 Patience is the true genius of Eastern climes. Trust to it 
 in the present instance, and I scarcely think you will be dis 
 appointed." 
 
 " Will it convert this old plaster tenement into a palace 
 for me, think you, good Father," said Meredith, glancing 
 upward at an ugly conglomerate of wood and clay, beneath 
 which they were passing. 
 
 " Perhaps so, we will see," replied Father Lapierre, 
 meaningly ; and as he spoke, Meredith observed that their 
 escort had halted in front of the plain Saracenic archway, 
 which alone interrupted the uniformity of the bare white 
 surface-wall, that the Turkish major-domo had alighted, 
 and was holding the bridle of M. Trefoil's horse, while one 
 of the Abyssinian slaves was assisting the awkward rider to 
 dismount. 
 
 In a moment more, a horse-block, covered with crimson 
 velvet, was brought forward for the use of Havilah and 
 Geita ; and the chief dignitary of the establishment was at
 
 284 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 Meredith's side, saying, with stately ceremony, his hand 
 meanwhile on his heart : " Behold the dwelling of my mas 
 ter, the Effendi. Will it please your Excellency to alight, 
 and honor by your presence the Salamlik of Mustapha 
 Osman?" 
 
 " Blessed be Allah, who has conducted you hither in 
 safety, O my brethren ! " said the Turkish merchant, as, 
 presenting himself at the door-way, he received M. Trefoil 
 with a fraternal embrace. "Welcome and salutation to 
 thee, O fair Rose of Lebanon ! " he continued, addressing 
 himself to Havilah, and bending low, as if about to. kiss 
 the hem of her garment. She frankly offered her hand, 
 which the venerable Moslem touched reverentially with 
 his lips. 
 
 Meredith, meanwhile, took an observation of his host. 
 He was not a large man; but there was a staid majesty 
 in his carriage, which rendered his presence, and even his 
 figure, imposing. He borrowed no dignity from his dress, 
 except as the spotlessness of his white turban and the 
 sober tints of his pelisse harmonized with the repose and 
 solemnity of his features ; and if richness of costume 
 had furnished the test of rank, the major-domo might have 
 been mistaken for the master, the master for the major- 
 domo. But independently of that Eastern ceremonial, 
 which instantly marks and determines each man's grade 
 in the social circle, there was that in the countenance and 
 air of Mustapha which gave unmistakable evidence of su 
 periority. The stately gravity of the major-domo was partly 
 constitutional, partly assumed ; that of his master was the 
 result of thoughtful wisdom ; the former was proud, in vir 
 tue of his office ; the latter was serene in his own simple 
 self-respect. The extreme melancholy of the Effendi's mild 
 blue eye was tempered by its kindly expression ; the grave,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 285 
 
 firm lines about his mouth indicated benevolence, no less 
 than strength of will. His whole countenance evinced that 
 calm determination which makes cowards shrink and base 
 men tremble, but which the weak and the dependent learn 
 to lean upon, and friends and equals trust instinctively. 
 
 Meredith conceived a friendship and admiration for Mus- 
 tapha at a glance, a sentiment which was to some degree 
 reciprocated by the Moslem, who greeted the Englishman 
 at first by a distant salaam, then, as if reading a recom 
 mendation in his face, advanced and cordially offered a 
 welcoming hand, saying in a tone of perfect sincerity : " Our 
 nations are allies, O servant of the Great Queen ! My 
 brother is thy friend. Let Mustapha then be thy brother." 
 
 Meredith responded with the frankness of an English 
 man, agreeably tinctured with that Oriental grace of dic 
 tion which had become familiar to him. 
 
 Mustapha now caught sight of M. Lapierre, who was in 
 the act of dismounting. Advancing to meet him, the mer 
 chant exclaimed, " Praise be to Allah, who has sent thee 
 hither, O mighty man of healing ! I have begged assistance 
 of God with patience and prayer, and he has heard me, for 
 God is with the patient My dwelling is thine, O worthy 
 physician ! and I am thy grateful servant." 
 
 He then waved his hand, and preceded his guests through 
 the narrow passage which conducted to the outer court or 
 reception-room of his dwelling. As they emerged from 
 the dark and winding entrance-way into the marble-paved 
 hall, where fresh air, sweet perfumes, and the sound of rip 
 pling water greeted their weary senses, Meredith began to 
 experience the dawning of a new vision of enchantment. 
 It was but the dawn, however, a mere foreshadowing of 
 what awaited him. It was now nearly dark. Only a 
 feeble glimmer of light lingered in the apartment, reveal-
 
 286 EL FDREIDJS. 
 
 ing the black and white blocks of the pavement, the spray 
 of a central fountain, and the uncertain outlines of the tall 
 orange and pomegranate trees, which threw the corners of 
 the court into deep shadow. Servants with noiseless tread 
 were moving in different directions, marshalling the attend 
 ants of the travellers to their quarters, or transferring the 
 luggage to its appropriate destination, performing these offi 
 ces with that dumb rapidity which makes all the operations 
 of a Turkish household seem the effect of magic. To one 
 accustomed to the noise and bustle which ordinarily at 
 tends an arrival, there was something bewildering in the 
 stillness and harmonious regularity of this reception. A 
 single gesture on the part of the master served for the 
 issuing of his orders. A fluttering of white veils at the far 
 ther extremity of the court announced the vicinity of May- 
 sunah and her attendants ; a profound obeisance on the part 
 of a swarthy Abyssinian, and Havilah and Geita disap 
 peared, wafted away as if on the breath of a perfume. 
 Mustapha waved his hand to his friends, who, by some un 
 conscious process, found themselves stretched on the wide 
 divan that ran around the room. Then, with the humility 
 of an inferior addressing dignitaries, the host asked per 
 mission to order coffee and pipes. 
 
 Had he asked leave to order pistols and poison, Meredith 
 would unhesitatingly have assented, so completely had he 
 already become subjected to the influence of the place. M. 
 Lapierre was weary, and could hardly resist the impulse to 
 enjoy the opportunity for immediate rest. But the active 
 temperament of M. Trefoil was not so impressible to the 
 soothing and slumbering effects of an Oriental reception. 
 He knew his own wants, and felt completely at home. So, 
 in the name of himself and the others of the party, he 
 promptly declined any other refreshment for the present
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 287 
 
 than clean linen and a bath, these being, as he declared, the 
 chief luxury after a journey. 
 
 With the composure of one whose chosen duty it is to 
 wait and serve, Mustapha at once issued orders in conform 
 ity with M. Trefoil's suggestion ; and almost before the 
 customary and mutual inquiries had been interchanged re 
 garding the health and welfare of the Damascene and his 
 guests, the latter were gravely summoned to take possession 
 of the bath, and its luxurious appliances. 
 
 " I shall have the honor of supping with you in the inner 
 court," said Mustapha, rising from his seat, and politely at- 
 tendin<r his friends to the door, where he saluted each as 
 
 O ' 
 
 they passed through. 
 
 The solemn mysteries of the bath had been complied 
 with ; the ecstatic sense of repose had supervened. Trans 
 ported, almost without conscious volition, to the superb inner 
 court, the deserted harem of the widowed host, who, despite 
 the license of his creed, was still true to the memory of the 
 lost Fatimah, the male members of M. Trefoil's party had 
 feasted on viands of aromatic odor, and been soothed by the 
 drink which the Arabic poet styles, in his extravagance, 
 " the beverage of the people of God." The velvet-shod 
 servants had advanced and retreated, with as much pre 
 cision as if to the sound of music ; the hands of the guests 
 had been dipped in rose-water, then folded in snowy napkins, 
 embroidered with gold ; graceful pipe-bearers, dropping on 
 one knee, had presented the jewelled mouth-pieces within 
 reach of the lips, and the elysium of the Oriental was 
 attained. 
 
 The elysium of Father Lapierre, however, was duty, 
 moderation, and healthful rest. He had eaten sparingly, 
 declined coffee and the narghileh, and withdrawn for the 
 night. Meredith had complied with the suggestion of his
 
 288 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 host, and taken possession of the divan of a curtained alcove 
 that opened upon the court. M. Trefoil and Mustapha Os- 
 man, reclining upon the dais of the central apartment, where 
 supper had been served to them, dish by dish, were engaged 
 in friendly converse. But the Turk never wastes words ; 
 the manufacturer was weary, and the dialogue was desul 
 tory, dreamy, and slow. Soothed by its monotony, by the 
 rippling play of numerous fountains, and- by the indistinct 
 sounds of distant music, Meredith fell asleep. He slept 
 awhile a dreamless sleep, then he awoke, and dreamed. 
 He dreamed that M. Trefoil and the Eifendi were gone, 
 and that he was alone in the enchanted palace which East 
 ern Genii, subject to the will of Mustapha, had decorated for 
 Fatimah, the merchant's youthful and beloved bride. From 
 the canopied alcove where he lay, he looked up at a domed 
 ceiling, whose azure tint was relieved by panelling of gor 
 geous arabesque, and draped with a fretwork of gold. A 
 gilded cornice, with delicately carved pendents, ran around 
 the walls of the court, which was divided into an upper and 
 lower apartment, connected together by a noble archway. 
 From the former branched off various alcoves and recesses, 
 similar to that on whose cushioned divan the Englishman 
 was reposing. As his eye ranged up and down the lofty 
 walls, he felt himself lost amid mazes of coloring, and bewil 
 dered by architectural forms. Arches with fluted pillars, 
 niches from which streamed a subdued light, slabs of marble 
 and porphyry, on which inscriptions from the Koran were 
 engraved in graceful Arabic characters, light galleries and 
 colonnades festooned with the passion-flower and jessamine 
 in full bloom, all these elements of beauty assailed his 
 senses at a glance, and, reflected in innumerable little mirrors 
 inserted in the wainscoting, were repeated in endless perspec 
 tive. In vain did the imagination attempt to trace the pat-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 289 
 
 tern of the flowers and scrolls which were woven in gold on 
 the rich satin of the divans, or to evolve the designs of va 
 riegated marble which constituted the mosaic pavement. It 
 was enough to gaze in dreamy wonder, sunk in an apathy 
 of Oriental delights. Nor was the eye alone filled and sat 
 isfied. Numerous fountains, emptying themselves into a 
 central basin, diffused coolness through the atmosphere; 
 tropical plants, grouped at the angles of the walls, scattered 
 intoxicating odors ; and a bird a nightingale, perchance 
 uttered melodious music. 
 
 Was it the rippling of a new fountain, just starting into 
 play, which now chimed in with the other sounds, or was it 
 the light patter of youthful feet? "Was it the answering 
 note of the bird's mate, which now met the Englishman's 
 ear, or was it girlish laughter ? "Was it a picture, such as 
 artist never painted before, or was it a living ideal, which 
 had come to perfect the scene ? 
 
 He looked in the direction whence the sounds proceeded, 
 but saw nothing. Opposite to him, however, mirrored in 
 glass, or possibly in fancy, were two figures, whose loveli 
 ness, grace, and picturesque attire harmonized so perfectly 
 with their fairy-like surroundings, that they seemed an indis 
 pensable part of the whole. They were not mere models 
 of form and coloring, for they were endued with life and 
 motion. Now they paced slowly along the railed gallery 
 which ran around the court, then paused to pluck a passion 
 flower or smell a rose, then idled on. Meredith watched 
 them breathlessly for a moment, then they were gone. 
 
 With a sudden sense of loss, he looked vacantly around 
 him, and as suddenly they reappeared. It was a narrow 
 strip of mirror set in an angle of the alcove which revealed 
 them now, and this time Meredith knew that he saw only 
 the reflection of objects, distant or near, he could not tell. 
 13 s
 
 290 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 He almost felt in honor bound to flee ; but whither and in 
 what direction, and why flee from a dream ? 
 
 They were descending a winding staircase, whose balus 
 ters, wreathed with the gilded foliage of art and the green 
 twigs of creeping vines, half concealed their figures. The 
 one was glowing in the radiance of healthful bloom. The 
 soft richness of the Indian, the pure element of the Greek, 
 the nervous fibre of the Anglo-Saxon race, all revealed 
 themselves in her lineaments and motions. She bore her 
 self with that careless ease, half child-like and half queenly, 
 which was her mountain birthright ; she looked around her 
 with the naive curiosity of a nature, which, untainted by 
 envy or selfish craving, feels that all the treasures of earth 
 and heaven are hers, hers in fee simple through her power 
 to enjoy. 
 
 The vivid colors of her striped Persian skirt, her Zouave 
 jacket, and her velvet cap, contrasted strongly with the deep 
 but softly blended hues of the frescos and mosaics which 
 lined the apartment ; her rich complexion and lustrous eyes 
 made the scene luminous with her presence, too lumi 
 nous, but for the sweet feminine grace which subdued and 
 sanctified it. 
 
 Her companion was diminutive, feeble, and pale. Her 
 dim blue eye had that faded aspect which we might expect 
 to see in one who had been long imprisoned from the light. 
 Her hair, of the lifeless color of desert sand, was so thin 
 as barely to cover her temples, far less to shadow her 
 high, angular brow. Her face would have been prema 
 turely old, but for the sweet, infantile expression of the 
 mouth, which, whether the lips were in motion or repose, 
 always awakened tenderness by its beseeching, pathetic 
 appeal. She seemed encumbered and oppressed by the 
 richness and weight of her costume. The cumbrous folds
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 291 
 
 of her pink satin trousers were disproportioned to her slight 
 figure, and to the miniature feet which peeped from be 
 neath them. Her stiffly embroidered vest appeared to 
 contract her narrow chest, her slender shoulders bent be 
 neath her caftan of heavy Persian silk, closely interwoven 
 with gold. The strings of glittering trinkets and jewels 
 bound around her head challenged pity for the frail wearer, 
 and the taper fingers and blue-veined arms, which leaned on 
 the stair-rail for support, looked more wan and wasted for 
 the jewelled rings and bracelets which zoned them. 
 
 " Lean on me, Maysunah," said her stronger friend, 
 drawing the feeble girl closer to her. Maysunah's head 
 sank on the offered shoulder, and her low words of thanks, 
 uttered in the melodious and modulated accent of her native 
 tongue, were like a minor chord, filling in the music of 
 Havilah's pure contralto. 
 
 So, with loving attitude and words, these playmates of 
 childhood, mutually happy in reunion, came down the stair 
 way together, and crossed the marble-paved court. Lost 
 once more to the Englishman's sight, as they passed beyond 
 the mirror's narrow scope, he only beheld them again, as, 
 gliding within a few feet of his sheltered alcove, they 
 approached a heap of cushions, just outside the margin of 
 the fountain. And now, when it was too late for him to re 
 treat, he became conscious that the vision was no illusion, 
 and that he beheld both maidens, face to face. 
 
 " Rest here, my drooping lily, my panting dove," said 
 Havilah, as, seating herself amid the cushions, she pillowed 
 Maysunah's head upon her lap. " We have wandered 
 round the house too long. The mountain roe forgot that 
 her mate had been reared within painted walls, and that 
 her feet were not trained to run and to climb. So, so ! lie 
 still. Ah ! the sweet bird, yonder ! Listen, Maysunah."
 
 292 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 And Maysunah lay still and listened, but not long. 
 Rest and song were less soothing to her than the face of her 
 friend ; and presently, raising herself on one elbow, she looked 
 up at Havilah, that she might drink in the refreshment of 
 her smile, as the child, who has found a long-lost toy, feasts 
 his eye on the recovered treasure, and cannot suffer it out 
 of his sight. 
 
 There are some flowers which, wanting in beauty, 
 waste themselves in fragrance. Such was Maysunah. The 
 deep affectionateness of her nature exhaled with every 
 breath. Undeveloped, unreasoning, untaught, she could 
 only love. The lonely child, reared in the desolate harem, 
 which, since her mother's death, had been such only in 
 name, had found nothing in her narrow experience to foster 
 envy, vanity, or pride. Never conscious of an outward 
 want, but knowing no society save that of her grave father, 
 and servants of like years, her heart alone had craved nour 
 ishment. Havilah's visit in Damascus, five years ago, had 
 been the one living episode in her lifeless life. All her 
 clinging memories twined round that solitary event, and 
 the return of her mountain friend was like a breeze from 
 Lebanon to a desert wayfarer. 
 
 Such guileless worship, such unaffected admiration as 
 she bestowed upon Havilah ! It actually made Havilah 
 blush ; but the blush melted into a smile when Maysunah, 
 with unhesitating freedom, put up her hand to stroke her 
 friend's temples, and feel the soft bloom on her cheek. It 
 was an infantile token of love, and the smile which re 
 sponded to it was tender and compassionate, like that 
 with which a mother receives a babe's caress. So, too, it 
 was with wondering yet patient submission that Havilah 
 watched the motions of the child-maiden, as, slowly unwind 
 ing the long strings of pearls which adorned her thin arms,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 293 
 
 she knelt beside her fairer companion, and with skilful 
 fingers interwove them with the black shining braids of 
 hair which were looped beneath the mountain-girl's Greek 
 cap. And when the becoming toilet was completed, and 
 Havilah saw herself reflected in the basin of the fountain, 
 and acknowledged her friend's services with a kiss, May- 
 sunah clasped her hands, and gazed with an ecstasy of sat 
 isfaction which almost lent a glow to her own dim eye and 
 sunken cheek. 
 
 And she had achieved signal success. Meredith had 
 almost forgotten that Havilah was so beautiful. 
 
 Penetrating beyond and behind those external charms 
 which had first captivated his senses, and learning some 
 thing of the secret of that spiritual life which constituted 
 her inner beauty, he had become less sensitively alive to 
 that outward radiance which was but the reflection of a 
 purer light ; but now that she had burst suddenly upon his 
 sight, like the central jewel of an Oriental crown, he realized 
 that, whether in palace or cot, alone with nature on sacred 
 Lebanon or decked with the costliest gems of Persia and 
 of Ind, Havilah's loveliness could not be rivalled, nor her 
 lustre dimmed. It was the triumph of youth and beauty, 
 It was to him what the loadstar is to the lost mariner, a 
 sight to thrill the heart with sudden joy. But the emotion 
 did not end here. As truth is better than beauty, as soul 
 masters sense, as the mariner looks to his pole-star, then, 
 cheered by its ray, plunges boldly into the darkness, so 
 Meredith's throb of homage soon gave place to a resolute 
 calm; a beam of holy light shone upon the night of his 
 spirit, and the star which he worshipped became to him a 
 guiding star. 
 
 " She speaks," said he to himself; " lie still, my heart, and 
 listen."
 
 294 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " My dove is pining in its gilded cage," said Havilah, 
 compassionately, as, drawing Maysunah's head once more to 
 her bosom, she observed the quick breath that betrayed the 
 girl's feeble frame. " Thou must go with me to my moun 
 tains, Maysunah. Thou must sit beneath the fig-tree's 
 shade, and drink the pure wine of our native vines, and 
 smell the smell of Lebanon. That is the medicine that 
 thou needest, my caged bird. O say, then, wilt thou go ? " 
 
 "I should like it," murmured Maysunah, but without 
 looking up. 
 
 " We will wander among old ruins," said Havilah, " and 
 rest on flowery banks, and trace the shadows on the valleys, 
 and watch the sun sink into the sea at nightfall. We will 
 fling thy muffling veil to the winds. The blue sky will not 
 be jealous of thine eyes. We shall be free as the moun 
 tain breeze, Maysunah. Wilt thou go ? " 
 
 " Ah, how sweet it were to go ! " whispered Maysunah, 
 pressing Havilah's hand. 
 
 " Thou shalt fly with me, then, thou tender fledgling," 
 said Havilah. " The parent bird will not forbid. We will 
 promise him that thine eye shall grow bright with health, 
 and thy pale cheek bloom like the rose. Ah, how happy 
 we will be together ! I will sing to thee, and talk to thee, 
 and cherish thee, my love. I will tell thee old stories of 
 the past, such as the good father tells to me. Already I 
 seem to be bidding thee welcome to my home, and my 
 heart to bound with the thought, Maysunah, Maysunah is 
 come." 
 
 Warmed by her fresh impulse and her generous sympathy, 
 Havilah's heart was truly aglow ; but no responsive hopes 
 were awakened in Maysunah's breast. The latter, slightly 
 changing her position, so as once more to command a view 
 of Havilah's face, scanned her friend's mobile features with
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 295 
 
 a sickly smile ; then, in slow, melancholy accents, said : " It 
 cannot, cannot be. The bird whose wings have long 
 been clipt has no strength to soar. I may not drink in 
 health with the mountain breeze ; I may not listen to thy 
 stories or thy songs ; I may not come to thy Lebanon 
 home ; but, O Havilah ! " and Maysunah, rising with a 
 suddenness for which Havilah was wholly unprepared, 
 threw herself on her knees, and, half buried in the cush 
 ions, with hands clasped, and every feature of her white 
 face strained with the intensity of her appeal, exclaimed, 
 " Tell me, O tell me of Him who has said, ' Let little chil 
 dren come unto me ' ! " 
 
 Startled by the plaintive, yearning cry, Havilah was si 
 lent for an instant; then answered, "Dost thou remember 
 Him so well, Maysunah?" 
 
 " Remember Him ? Ah ! how could I forget ? " was the 
 reply, uttered in tones at once passionate and childish. 
 " Has He not been with me all these years ? have I not 
 found in Him mother, sister, brother, friend ? When Mus- 
 tapha was absent on the weary pilgrimage, and Fatimah- 
 was in the arms of Azrael,* and there was none to answer 
 the child's lonely cry, O how then could she be deaf to the 
 tender call, ' Maysunah, come unto me ' ? " 
 
 " And thou earnest ? " asked Havilah. 
 
 " Ah ! how could I come ? and what could I do ? " said 
 Maysunah, with a mournful shake of the head. " He was 
 my treasure ; but what was I ? His voice has been to me 
 like a song in the night, but I have had no power to answer. 
 Could Maysunah pay honor to Him, who was a stranger 
 to all else beside ? Could the feeble one exalt the Friend 
 whom the rich and the strong held in light esteem ? " 
 
 * The Mohammedan's angel of death.
 
 296 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 " How wouldst thou exalt Him, and what honors wouldst 
 thou pay ? " questioned Havilah, with thoughtful interest. 
 
 " My father has engraved the commands of his Prophet 
 in letters of gold upon the wall," said Maysunah, pointing 
 to the tablets above her head, on which the precepts of the 
 Koran were inscribed. " He has performed the sacred pil 
 grimage to Mecca, and risked his life that he might kiss the 
 blessed Kaaba. His balances in the day of reckoning will 
 be found heavy with good works. He prayeth with face 
 turned toward the holy shrine. He bestoweth his alms 
 freely; seeking to attain, by means of the wealth which 
 God hath given him, the future mansion of Paradise. But 
 I," she continued, in a sad, apologetic tone, as if humbled by 
 a sense of the mortifying contrast, "I can raise no altar to 
 my Lord, for I know not even where he lies entombed ; " 
 and her eyes wandered from side to side, like one mazed 
 in a wilderness. " I have no riches to bestow upon his ser 
 vants, and she dropped her empty hands upon her lap ; 
 I have no strength to labor in his cause, no power to add 
 honor to his natae, no offerings to lay at his feet. Poor, sol 
 itary, sinful child that I am, I have nothing to give him but 
 my heart ; " and as she spoke tears gushed from her eyes, 
 and, covering her face with her thin hands, she once more 
 dropped her head upon Havilah's bosom. 
 
 " It is all he asks, it is all he asks, my precious one," said 
 Havilah, folding her arms tightly around Maysunah, who 
 was trembling with agitation. Havilah herself was deeply 
 moved, and it was only after some minutes that she could 
 compose herself sufficiently to add : " Be comforted, Maysu 
 nah, sweet sister in the Lord. Thou art his by the seal of 
 thine own confession. Pet lamb of his flock, O doubt not 
 that the Good Shepherd will take thee in his arms, and bear 
 thee in his bosom."
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 297 
 
 "Lead me to him, O lead me to him, Havilah!" said 
 Maysunah, between her sobs. 
 
 " I will," said Havilah ; " the distance is not far. It is 
 not hard to find and to follow the master that one loves, 
 and thou lovest him already, Maysunah." 
 
 " He first loved me," was the expressive response. 
 
 " And how knewest thou of his love ? " 
 
 " "Was I not with thee in the lonely fruit-orchard, beside 
 the sacred Albana, when the old man called us from our 
 play, and we knelt at his feet, and he laid his hand on our 
 heads and blessed us, and told us of Hun who has said, 
 ' Let little children come unto me, for of such is the king 
 dom of Heaven ' ? " 
 
 " And was this all ? " 
 
 " Yes, all ; but it was much to Maysunah. The learned 
 and the wise might trust to Mohammed, the Meccan law 
 giver ; but he had no welcome and no promise for a weak, 
 ignorant child. Jesus called, and I answered. He spoke 
 once only, but my heart answers still." 
 
 " And he hears thee, Maysunah." 
 
 " Ah, could I believe it ! " said Maysunah, her features 
 kindling at the thought. " But, Havilah, he knows me not. 
 I hear his voice, but I cannot follow him ; he is near me, 
 but I cannot see his face. He has passed by me, but I 
 have only clung to the skirts of his robe. I have but kissed 
 the hem of his garment." 
 
 " And so shalt thou be made whole," exclaimed Havilah, 
 with enthusiasm. "Poor, longing, bleeding soul, fear not 
 but he will bind up all thy wounds." 
 
 " I ask no other healing," said Maysunah. " They have 
 
 studied my disease in vain, for its root lies here," and she 
 
 laid her hand upon her heart. They have given me vile 
 
 drugs, but each was more bitter than the last ; they have 
 
 13*
 
 298 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 mixed for me cooling drinks, but I was fevered still ; they 
 have sought to cheer me, but I drooped the more. And 
 then, when my father wept, I cried : ' There is a balm for 
 me in Lebanon, a spring among the mountains, for which I 
 
 thirst, an old man there, who alone can save Maysunah. 
 
 Send for him, ere I die.' " 
 
 "Dear wanderer, long parched by the desert breath," 
 said Havilah, " thou shalt thirst no more, for Jesus himself 
 has promised that to them that are athirst he will give the 
 water of life freely." 
 
 " I have wandered in the desert, " said Maysunah, " but 
 thou art my oasis. I have found thee at last, Havilah. 
 Let me rest now beneath thy shade. Thou hast within 
 thee the well-spring for which my spirit pants. Bathe me 
 in its flood, my beautiful one. Tell me, as thou didst prom 
 ise, the stories that the good father has told to thee ; but let 
 them all be of Jesus, the Heavenly One, the Comforter." 
 
 She now composed herself into a listening attitude, fold 
 ed her little hands meekly together, and lifted up her dim 
 eyes, as the scorched flower lifts its cup to the night-dew. 
 
 And Havilah filled the thirsty cup to its brim, filled it 
 gently, drop by drop, from her own crystal spring of truth, 
 and child poured out to child the knowledge of that love 
 which embraces all the families of the earth, which tri 
 umphs over sin and the grave, and which the humblest 
 soul may purchase with a prayer. And Maysunah drank 
 the heavenly draught, and the drooping soul felt the truth 
 of the promise, " Thou shalt never thirst again. For the 
 water that I shall give thee shall be within thee a well of 
 water springing up into everlasting life." 
 
 And Meredith, the once haughty-souled Meredith, 
 what of him? How did he receive the truth which is 
 mighty to save ?
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 299 
 
 He listened, as the child that is lost listens to the voice 
 that calls him home ; and when the voice had ceased, and 
 his dream if it were a dream was over, he sunk upon 
 his knees, and there, under the roof of Mahomet's disciple, 
 the man reared in a Christian land first bowed his proud 
 spirit in a Christian's prayer, and laid the required gift on 
 the altar of Him who had softly whispered to his soul that 
 njght, " My son, give me thy heart."
 
 300 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " AH, my lazy friend ! you should have been with us last 
 evening at the cool cafe, on the shady banks of the Ba- 
 rada ! " was M. Trefoil's morning salutation to Meredith. 
 " I should have roused you from your cushioned slumbers 
 yonder, and claimed your company on our excursion, but 
 my friend here, to whom sleep is one of the paradises 
 of the Prophet, would not suffer you to be disturbed." 
 
 " It is an ungrateful office, O Effendi ! " said Mustapha, 
 addressing himself to Meredith, " to rouse one from happy 
 dreams. All pleasures have their season, and life is long 
 enough for all. The clear river, the cool breezes, the fra 
 grant gardens, are equally tempting every night, and the 
 moon is young." 
 
 "Damascus is always here, my friend," exclaimed M. 
 Trefoil, without giving Meredith an opportunity to reply; 
 " but we cannot always be in Damascus. A few days' 
 enjoyment of your hospitality, a glimpse of your famous 
 mosques, temples, coffee-shops, and bazaars, is all we can 
 hope for. There is no time, then, to be lost, and the first 
 question, therefore, is, How shall we employ to-day ? " 
 
 " What says his Excellency ? " inquired Mustapha, again 
 appealing to his English guest. 
 
 " Simply that I am at your disposal," replied Meredith. 
 "Nothing could have been more welcome than last even 
 ing's repose, for which I thank you ; but this morning I 
 am ready and impatient for a nearer view of this enchanted
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 301 
 
 city, which promises to fulfil all the fabulous visions I ever 
 conceived of the Orient." 
 
 " If it suit your pleasure, then," said Mustapha, " we will 
 devote the morning to the bazaars, and later in the day 
 will adjourn to the shade of the more distant gardens and 
 fruit-orchards." 
 
 All, including M. Lapierre, professed themselves satis 
 fied with this arrangement, and, M. Trefoil having stipu 
 lated that his daughter and Maysunah should accompany 
 them, the party soon sallied forth, the gentlemen threading 
 the narrow, crooked streets on foot, the ladies mounted on 
 white Egyptian donkeys, and attended by well-dressed 
 Abyssinian slaves. Meredith had no difficulty in recogniz 
 ing the fragile figure of Maysunah, in spite of the jealous 
 veil, which partially covered her form, and, conformably 
 with Turkish custom, wholly hid her face. Havilah, with 
 intuitive deference to city etiquette and the habits of the 
 household in which she was a guest, carefully obscured her 
 features behind the folds of her white izan, and Geita, who 
 rode just behind her mistress, made a compromise between 
 the dignity of her race and the coquetry of her nature, by 
 arranging her drapery of Syrian muslin in strict imitation of 
 Maysunah's veil, but suffering it to drop, or become as it 
 were displaced by accident, whenever a street corner or 
 crowded market-place afforded an opportunity of displaying 
 her twinkling eyes or rosy lips to advantage. 
 
 "Who has not heard of the Eastern bazaars ? To whom 
 is not the very word bazaar suggestive of all that imagina 
 tion, luxury, art, and wealth can devise to tempt one to 
 break the tenth commandment ? And if the word itself be 
 significant, how much more so when associated with that city 
 of palaces and genii, which, sitting alone between the desert 
 and the mountains, has time out of mind been receiving into
 
 302 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 its lap the costly treasures of countless caravans. To visit 
 the Damascus bazaars is to wander hour after hour through 
 interminable avenues of shopman's stalls, from the rows of 
 matted lobbies where inferior articles are sold and the 
 poorer class of customers welcomed, to the lofty, pointed- 
 roofed, and vaulted emporiums of jewelry, silks, and pre 
 cious fabrics of Persian manufacture, where the luxuri 
 ous and richly-dressed merchant squats on his cushions, 
 quaffs his sherbet, puffs at his narghileh and now arid then 
 condescends to recommend his wares to some citizen pacha 
 or wealthy Frank. The latter especially claims his notice. 
 No Mosaic decree binds the Moslem's conscience, or forbids 
 him to covet the gold with which his imagination lines the 
 pockets of every Englishman. Thus Meredith's European 
 dress and cool indifference of manner instantly challenged 
 the cupidity of the Damascene tradesmen. Scarcely had 
 the group of sight-seers emerged from the obscurer streets 
 of the city into the brilliant squares of the market-place, 
 before their ears were assailed by invitations and entreaties, 
 couched, not in the harsh street-cries of Western hucksters, 
 but in the alluring poetic phrase of the Oriental. 
 
 "Odors that waft one to the realm of the blessed! 
 Spices that steep the soul in visions of Araby, Inglisy 
 Effendei ! " cries the vender of sweet distillations and per 
 fumes. " O food of the immortals ! will his Excellency 
 pass you untasted by?" is the pathetic query with which 
 the dealer in sweetmeats addresses the luscious delicacies 
 spread out before him. " Disdain not, O man of a sad 
 countenance, the soul-soothing narghileh, whose tube will 
 exhale thy melancholy, and whose amber mouth-piece will 
 whisper to thee a song of the sea!" is the exhortation 
 of the pipe salesman. " Slippers for the feet of Western 
 houris ! bridles that will curb the fiery steed of El Hejaz !
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 303 
 
 jewels born to reflect eyes that we love ! " these and sim 
 ilar insinuating appeals issue in modulated accent from the 
 mouths of the turbaned merchants, who, seated on cushions 
 in the midst of their wares, rouse themselves to momentary 
 effort, then, failing of a purchaser, sink into listlessness and 
 apathy. 
 
 And all, or nearly all, were this day destined to disap 
 pointment, and forced to console themselves with the reflec 
 tion, " It is the will of Allah." A few weeks ago and the 
 Englishman would have scattered his wealth with spend 
 thrift liberality, and distributed his purchases with equal 
 indifference ; but he had lately learned a better use for his 
 gold, and the wants of a suffering community had admon 
 ished him to take an account of his stewardship. 
 
 So the solicitations of the accomplished shopmen were 
 unheeded, or acknowledged only by a smile. A few house 
 hold articles purchased by Mustapha, some sugared fruits 
 and tasteful ornaments, which Maysunah hoped might prove 
 acceptable to Havilah, and some additions which Meredith 
 made to his travelling accoutrement, constituted the dis 
 bursement of the party. 
 
 The entire morning, however, was consumed in peram 
 bulating this gay and picturesque portion of the city, which 
 furnishes the realization of all one's visions and dreams 
 of Oriental traffic. But only the pedestrians continued 
 abroad until noon. Maysunah soon became weary, and 
 the mounted portion of the company, with their attend 
 ants, turned their donkeys in the direction of home, to 
 which attractive spot the more vigorous excursionists were 
 finally glad to resort for rest and shelter during the heat of 
 midday. 
 
 It was nearly nightfall when the household of Mustapha 
 set forth once more in quest of pleasure ; and if the morn-
 
 304 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ing's entertainment was brilliant and novel in the extreme, 
 that of the evening was no less remarkable for romantic 
 and picturesque interest. A clear, silver crescent overhung 
 the city, and was reflected in those representative emblems 
 of itself which surmounted every minaret and tower. But 
 its light was not sufficient to illuminate the labyrinth of 
 streets, and the little procession was preceded and followed 
 by servants carrying lamps of richly colored glass. Other 
 attendants were laden with baskets of cakes, fruit, and vari 
 ous delicacies, while still a third company officiated as pipe- 
 bearers. The party were organized as in the morning, the 
 female portion, in consideration of Maysunah's feebleness, 
 being mounted on the well-trained donkeys. Their desti 
 nation was the bank of the Barada, towards which at sunset 
 the whole city invariably throngs ; but, in order to avoid the 
 crowd, Mustapha had chosen as a banqueting-place a kiosk 
 at some little distance from the walls, and had secured the 
 exclusive enjoyment of its privileges. 
 
 Most cities have their pleasure-grounds, their parks, their 
 Elysian fields, but the gardens of Damascus excel them all. 
 Elsewhere art has done much, but here nature is trium 
 phant ; and the perfection of rural scenery is the character 
 istic endowment of the " Diamond of the Desert." The spot 
 of which Mustapha had made choice was but one among a 
 thousand such. It was fitted up in the simplest style. A 
 wooden platform extended beyond the river-bank, and par 
 tially overhung the stream. Its roof was of matting, its 
 pillars were the untrimmed stems of trees, its seats a spe 
 cies of simple camp-stool. But far away to right and left 
 stretched a vista of foliage, fruit, and flowers, groves of every 
 shade of verdure, canopying a smooth green sod, or an un 
 dergrowth of rarest shrubbery. Beneath ran the rapid river, 
 transparent and cool, refreshing the ear with its music, and
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 305 
 
 reflecting in its waters the colored lights of the cafes that 
 lined its banks, and the gay costumes of the pleasure-seeking 
 multitude. The knotty pillars of the kiosk were wreathed 
 with profusely blossoming vines, and festoons of jessamine, 
 honeysuckle, and myrtle draped the intervening spaces 
 otherwise open to the moonlight and the stars. 
 
 Here, regaled with delicate confections, sipping cool 
 sherbet, or puffing at the perfumed narghileh, the traveller 
 feels that the Oriental may almost be forgiven for his faith 
 in a sensual Paradise. 
 
 But in the present case there was more than mere phys 
 ical enjoyment to give interest and value to the scene. 
 Representatives of various nations and lands were met 
 together in fraternal relations ; and in the quiet converse 
 beside the rippling stream, the French missionary, the 
 cosmopolite American, the self-exiled Englishman, and the 
 Syrian Turk all bore their part, and bore it well, for all 
 were men of refinement, culture, and experience. So they 
 talked of life, of politics, of travel, of things new and old, of 
 things that had been and of things that were to be. Neither 
 strove to exalt his religion, his country, or the government 
 to which he owed allegiance, for all had learned liberality 
 in the wide school of the world, and felt that it was not act 
 ing a becoming part to shut their eyes to the good which 
 they could not deny, or to criticise the evils which they could 
 not mend. Thus they talked together as brethren, united 
 at least in good-will towards each other and humanity at 
 large. 
 
 Maysunah, released from her muffling veil, reclined mean 
 while in an obscure corner of the kiosk on cushions which 
 had been brought thither for her convenience. She be 
 trayed no interest in the conversation of her father and his 
 friends, which was, for the most part, beyond her limited 
 
 T
 
 306 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 comprehension ; but she watched with childish pleasure the 
 neighboring groups of excursionists, and pointed out to 
 Havilah the bright reflections on the stream, and seemed 
 exhilarated with the rare enjoyment of the occasion. Havi 
 lah sat beside her, responded to her simple questions, and 
 returned her mute caresses ; but the head a little inclined, 
 the listening attitude, the occasional demonstration of ear 
 nest feeling, proved that Havilah's attention was divided 
 between the innocent prattle of her child-friend and the 
 graver eloquence of the Turkish or priestly sage. Once or 
 twice she even left her place beside Maysunah, seated her 
 self a moment near M. Lapierre or her father, and drank in 
 the instructive discourse ; then, as if self-reproached at hav 
 ing forsaken Maysunah, she stole quietly back to her side. 
 
 Meredith was reminded of the evenings on the house-top 
 in Lebanon, when Havilah fondled the head of her gazelle 
 fit prototype of Maysunah with one hand, and leaned 
 her own head on the other while she lent a listening ear to 
 the conversation of the assembled circle ; but then it was 
 the grace of her form, the rare outline of her features, the 
 sparkle of her eye, Avhich inspired the Englishman's tongue ; 
 now, Meredith said but little, the young girl's eye was 
 no longer a key to the scholarly rhetoric of his brain. He 
 was at once a humbled, a more silent, and a wiser man. He 
 scarcely glanced at Havilah, but the consciousness of her 
 presence was like a pure element mingling in the discourse ; 
 and when Father Lapierre paid a tribute to virtue, and 
 Mustapha's grave features softened while he rehearsed some 
 tale of self-denial or charity, Meredith felt a sympathetic joy 
 in the thought, Havilah also hears this, and her soul is made 
 glad. 
 
 So sped the evening, and when the young moon went 
 down, the noiseless attendants resumed their burdens, and
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 307 
 
 the patient donkeys theirs, and, with scarcely more sound or 
 sense of motion than that of the pale crescent at her re 
 tiring, the little party retraced their way to the house of 
 Mustapha. 
 
 And as sped one day and night, so sped every day and 
 night of our travellers' stay in Damascus. The mornings 
 were devoted to tours through the city, the evenings to rus 
 tic pleasure and social intercourse. The former, however, 
 were seldom participated in by the entire household. One 
 excursion a day taxed Maysunah's strength sufficiently; 
 Havilah would not forsake her friend ; and, with the excep 
 tion of Meredith, the gentlemen of the party had personal 
 and private claims upon each other's time. 
 
 Our Englishman, therefore, indulged frequently in solitary 
 rambles, or availed himself of whatever companionship 
 might offer. M. Trefoil's nervous energy in sight-seeing 
 was soon expended; but M. Lapierre or Mustapha, or 
 both, were frequently associated with him in his visits to 
 citadel, palace, and mosque. The Turkish Effendi was 
 especially anxious to familiarize his English guest with the 
 antiquities and attractions of Damascus, and attended him 
 with unwearied assiduity. There was a marked congenial 
 ity between the young man and his host, and the cir 
 cumstances of their intercourse served to impress Meredith 
 with a continually increasing respect and admiration for the 
 conscientious and upright Moslem. 
 
 They visited the slave-market together. As they walked 
 through its various apartments, and beheld its chained vic 
 tims, the free-born Briton could scarcely conceal his pity, 
 abhorrence, and disgust. The faces of the fair Georgians, 
 at once anxious and defiant, roused his chivalrous compas 
 sion. He burned to break the rivets that bound the swarthy 
 limbs of iron-built men ; his soul sickened as he beheld a
 
 308 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 diseased, emaciated, aged group, and reflected on the prob 
 ability of their perishing from neglect, since no ruthless 
 slaveholder would burden himself with such mere encum 
 brances. In vain did he look to his companion for some 
 expression of sympathy with these poor wretches ; and as 
 Mustapha strode from stall to stall, with an apparently 
 unruffled countenance, Meredith said to himself, " Such is 
 the hardening effect of habit." 
 
 The next day, as he was passing through the outer court 
 of Mustapha's house, he saw a litter, which four sturdy car 
 riers were about to lift upon their shoulders. It contained 
 three individuals. One was blind, the others crippled, and 
 all were wasted with disease. Their rags had been ex 
 changed for neat apparel, but Meredith at once recognized 
 the miserable group who had yesterday been exposed for 
 sale in the slave-market. 
 
 " Who are these ? " asked he of the stately major-domo 
 who was superintending their removal. 
 
 "Unfortunates whom my master has purchased at the 
 slave-market, your Excellency ! " 
 
 " But they are incurables," said Meredith, as they passed 
 out of sight. " They will never be fit for labor." 
 
 " True, your Excellency. But it is those who can serve 
 no longer who are henceforth the charge of the Lord's ser 
 vants ; and ' the Lord is surely in a watch-tower, whence he 
 observeth the actions of men.' " 
 
 " Is there then an asylum for these poor sufferers ? " 
 
 " The house which my master formerly occupied in the 
 next street is the hospital to which these children of sorrow 
 are about to be carried," said the major-domo. " More than 
 a score of the old and destitute are there cherished and 
 maintained at the expense of Mustapha." 
 
 " How noble a charity ! " exclaimed Meredith ; " Heaven 
 reward your master ! "
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 309 
 
 The major-domo gravely pointed to a slab of porphyry 
 inserted in the wall, and read from it these words of the 
 Koran : " On the last day, every soul shall find the good 
 which it hath wrought present, and the evil which it hath 
 wrought it shall wish that between itself and that were a 
 wide distance ! " 
 
 " How true is it," thought Meredith, as he walked away, 
 " that the pure in heart may distil virtue from an erring 
 creed, and that practices which are the sinner's temptation 
 may become the good man's opportunity." 
 
 It was not many days after this that Meredith chanced 
 to be present at a conversation between M. Lapierre and 
 Mustapha, which was in itself suggestive, and which pos 
 sessed an ulterior interest to the young man, furnishing 
 as it did a sequel to the dialogue to which he had been an 
 involuntary listener on the first night of his arrival in 
 Damascus. 
 
 M. Lapierre, the Effendi, and Meredith had been devot 
 ing some hours to an examination of the Mosque of the 
 Omeigades, which is, the most interesting antiquity in Da 
 mascus, having passed successively under the control of 
 Roman, Christian, and Saracenic dynasties, and represent 
 ing in its architecture superb relics of each nation and age. 
 The visitors had wandered through the transept, aisles, and 
 nave of the present temple, had traced with curious eye the 
 long colonnades and half-buried pillars, which furnish a clew 
 to the gigantic dimensions of earlier structures, and paused 
 at length before a magnificent portal emblazoned with sculp 
 tured scroll-work, and surmounted by an ancient inscription. 
 
 " My ear is familiar with the Greek tongue," said Mus 
 tapha, pointing significantly to the tablet, " but I have no 
 knowledge of its Written characters. Perhaps, O venerable 
 Father ! " he continued, addressing M. Lapierre, " thou
 
 310 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 canst illuminate my mind, as well as that of his Excellency 
 the English Effendi." 
 
 M. Lapierre was gazing with emotion at the tablet. So 
 too was Meredith ; for both had at once deciphered the Sep- 
 tuagint inscription, which, engraved there at some unknown 
 period, by some unknown hand, has survived the ravages of 
 superstition and war, has defied the heathen and his gods, 
 and still utters its solemn protest in the very strong-hold of 
 Mohammedanism. 
 
 " Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an everlasting kingdom, and 
 thy dominion endureth throughout all generations," * was 
 the solemn, emphatic utterance of M. Lapierre, as he faith 
 fully construed to the ear of Mustapha the hitherto enig 
 matical passage. 
 
 The Turk slowly withdrew his eyes from the inscrip 
 tion, and fixed them upon the missionary in grave wonder. 
 " Thou dost not deceive me, man of truth ! " he said in 
 an undoubting tone. " As I would keep my own soul spot 
 less from a lie, so do I trust thine honor. But, believe me, 
 only blindness or ignorance could suffer that inscription upon 
 the wall of a mosque of Islam, which the crescent has sur 
 mounted for twelve hundred years. 
 
 " It is a truth which is written everywhere, my brother," 
 answered Father Lapierre, mildly ; " but the eyes of many 
 are shut to it, and many need an interpreter." 
 
 " Thou art unjust or mistaken, O aged Father ! " replied 
 Mustapha, with confidence. " The cities of the West may 
 build temples and inscribe tablets to the prophet of Israel, 
 but the lands of the sun-rising pay sole allegiance to Moham 
 med, beloved of Allah." 
 
 * M. Y. L. Porter relates in his work, " Five Years -in Damascus," the 
 interesting circumstance of his having translated this inscription to a 
 Turkish Effendi who accompanied him on the occasion of his visiting 
 the Mosque of the Omeigades.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 311 
 
 "And yet, Mustapha, in the courts which thou fre- 
 quentest daily, ay, within thine own dwelling, is a tablet 
 dedicated to Him of Nazareth, and written all over with 
 the truth of his Gospel," said Father Lapierre. 
 
 " How sayest thou ? " exclaimed Mustapha, a slight flush 
 of indignation mounting to his cheek, although his tone con 
 tinued courteous and calm. " Have I not ever been a faith 
 ful Moslem ? Do I not keep ever before me the sacred 
 precepts of the Koran ? Are they not written in letters of 
 gold upon my walls and my door-posts ? Who then shall 
 dare affirm that there is a corner, even, within the house 
 of Mustapha, dedicated to any other than the Meccan 
 Prophet?" 
 
 " I bear solemn witness to the fact myself," said Father 
 Lapierre, in a rapt and elevated tone. 
 
 " And on what secret tablet is it inscribed ? " anxiously 
 questioned Mustapha. 
 
 " On the heart of thy child ? " 
 
 The flush suddenly faded from the cheek of the Turk, his 
 dignified form trembled visibly. With an eye penetrating 
 rather than severe, he gazed into the face of M. Lapierre, 
 who met the astonished scrutiny with a composure as serene 
 as that of the Apostle when Agrippa said unto him, " Paul, 
 thou art beside thyself." 
 
 It was a moment before Mustapha could command his 
 voice, and his words, Avhen at length they came, were 
 spoken, not in anger, but in the low, measured tones of one 
 whose nature is stirred to its depths. " Thou art skilled, I 
 know, in the diseases of the flesh, O worthy physician," he 
 said, " but canst thou pierce to the innermost soul ? " 
 
 " There are some diseases of the body," answered M. 
 Lapierre, " which the soul alone can reach. In such cases 
 human means avail nothing, and the skill of the hakeem is
 
 312 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 wasted. Have drugs had power to heal Maysunah, or nar 
 cotics to soothe ? " 
 
 " Alas ! " said the unhappy father, with melancholy can 
 dor, " thou knowest they have all been tried in vain." 
 
 " I know it, and I will tell thee why. The spirit and the 
 flesh are at war in thy child. Her wasting fever is an im 
 mortal thirst. Her disease has its root in the soul." 
 
 " And its remedy ? " faltered Mustapha. 
 
 " Is here ; " and M. Lapierre drew a little volume from 
 a pouch in his black robe, and placed in Mustapha's hands 
 a Turkish translation of the Scripture. 
 
 There was a mingling of eagerness and superstitious 
 dread in Mustapha's reception of the gift. He grasped it 
 firmly ; handled it awhile without opening its covers, as if 
 fearful of their contents, then resolutely turned over its 
 pages, and read a passage here and there. 
 
 M. Lapierre, meanwhile, watched the emotions of the 
 Moslem, unconsciously influencing him by the power of his 
 clear, magnetic eye. Meredith turned away. There was 
 a struggle going forward in the fond, proud heart of Mus 
 tapha which it was painful to witness. 
 
 He was long in coming to a determination, but when he 
 did so, it was final. Mustapha was not given to half-way 
 measures, and the generous kindliness with which he at 
 length extended his hand to the missionary was in itself 
 decisive. 
 
 " Because thou hast been frank with me, O holy man," 
 said he, " therefore will I trust thee. Hadst thou made 
 this book a barrier betwixt, me and my child, then hadst 
 thou acted a traitor's part; but thou hast confided in me, 
 and I will teach thee that Mustapha is a man in whom thou 
 mayst safely confide; and because truth has set its seal 
 upon thy heart and thy lips, O friend of the most high God,
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 313 
 
 the well-spring from which thou hast drunk cannot be false. 
 I ask thee not when or how Maysunah has tasted of this 
 fountain, nor who has awakened in her this unquenchable 
 thirst. But that which is wholesome for the child cannot 
 be poison to the parent. Together we will ' search the 
 Scriptures,'" he added, aptly quoting from a passage on 
 which his eye had fallen, " and see if they have in them 
 eternal life." 
 
 So saying, he hid the book in his bosom, and without 
 another word led the way out of the temple. 
 
 14
 
 314 EL FUREIDIS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 IT had been the intention of our travellers to devote a 
 few days only to Damascus ; but owing to the allurements of 
 the city itself, and the urgent hospitality of Mustapha, this 
 period was first prolonged to a week, and then one week 
 ripened into two. But the time at length came when the 
 party unitedly agreed to resist every temptation to further 
 delay. M. Lapierre was anxious to be restored to his flock. 
 Meredith had never had enough of the genuine Oriental in 
 his disposition to be a systematic idler, and the strong moral 
 purpose which had recently imparted to him newness of life 
 made him realize more than ever that action must hence 
 forth be his only rest. With the revival of cheerfulness, M. 
 Trefoil had also experienced an awakening of the spirit of 
 enterprise, and he began to comprehend the state of his 
 affairs, and indulge dreams of retrieving his fortunes. No 
 surplus funds had been found in the hands of his faithful 
 consignee ; but the generous Mustapha not only encouraged 
 his friend by advice, but volunteered substantial aid towards 
 the restoration of the fallen silk-mill, an undertaking con 
 cerning which the manufacturer was now as eager as he 
 had once been indifferent. 
 
 Havilah, petted, worshipped, caressed, began to pine 
 within the painted walls of Mustapha's house. Her heart 
 warmed tenderly to the fond, clinging Maysunah ; but the 
 seclusion of the harem, to which they were both condemned
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 315 
 
 for the greater part of every day, proved oppressive to the 
 spirits of the mountain girl ; the society of her young hostess 
 failed to satisfy her. For the first time in her life she expe 
 rienced the pangs of restlessness and discontent. She be 
 lieved, poor child, that she was homesick ; she had faith 
 that the air of Lebanon would work her cure ; and thus she 
 too longed to be gone. 
 
 A day for departure was therefore positively fixed upon, 
 and schemes of recreation and professed idleness gave place 
 to urgent preparation for travel. 
 
 It was matter of surprise to Meredith and the other gen 
 tlemen of the party that Abdoul had absented himself from 
 their presence, and had not once been seen since their ar 
 rival in Damascus. It was true, that he had only engaged 
 to conduct them thither, and might have inferred, from his 
 abrupt dismission, that his attendance was no longer desired. 
 On the other hand, it was not impossible that he had, in 
 pursuance of a national instinct, gone to seek his tribe in 
 the desert, been detained beyond his calculations, and might 
 yet return in season to conduct the equally dilatory travel 
 lers on their return route, which was to be by the way of 
 Baalbec and the famed cedars of Lebanon. 
 
 Meredith, who was accustomed to the youth's services, 
 indulged the hope that this might prove the case, and for 
 bore securing any other dragoman, in the faith that the boy 
 would, in some characteristic manner, appear at the last 
 moment. 
 
 Havilah, had she been consulted, might have somewhat 
 enlightened Meredith in respect to his servant's haunts and 
 occupations, for she had her suspicions, amounting finally 
 to a conviction, that Abdoul had lingered in Damascus or its 
 vicinity during nearly their entire stay, that he had made 
 himself master of their movements, dogged their footsteps, and
 
 316 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 played the spy upon their actions. In one instance she 
 believed, in another she was confident, that, when passing 
 through the Arab quarter of the city, she had caught 
 sight of the boy, among a group of ragged Bedouins, 
 himself shabbily clad and wearing the constrained and 
 cringing aspect which always marks his race when in the 
 atmosphere of a city. There was nothing external to dis 
 tinguish him from his companions ; but the keen, scrutiniz 
 ing gaze which he bent upon each individual of the party 
 that included Havilah betrayed him instantly to one who 
 could not be mistaken as to the expression of that piercing 
 eye. 
 
 In one solitary instance, when she was privileged to ride 
 with her father and Meredith through the fragrant gardens 
 of the environs, her pleasure in the excursion was marred 
 by the consciousness that they were followed and watched 
 by a mounted Bedouin, who finally shot past them with the 
 speed of an arrow, and was recognized by Havilah in spite 
 of the ample kefiyeh which purposely hid his face. 
 
 And once again. It was night, and Havilah, seated be 
 side Meredith, was leaning over the rail of the garden kiosk, 
 watching the shadows of the trees reflected in the stream. 
 The position of both was accidental, they having been deserted 
 by the other members of the household, who, early in the 
 evening, had formed a group in that corner of the pavilion, 
 but had now retreated to its inner recesses, M. Trefoil to 
 doze over his pipe, and Maysunah and her father to listen 
 uninterruptedly to some simple explanations of Christian 
 truth from the lips of M. Lapierre. So Meredith and Ha 
 vilah were left to each other's society ; an opportunity which 
 they could not be said to improve, since scarcely a word had 
 been exchanged between them. Neither was an object of 
 envy, for both were sad. A little while ago, and Meredith
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 317 
 
 had been speaking of England, and the necessity of his 
 speedy return thither, speaking not with the enthusiasm 
 of the home-bound traveller, but the brave determination 
 of a man going forth to his labor. Nor was this fortitude 
 forced or stoical. Work was no longer a mere escape 
 from self, it had its inspiration and its ardor; and un 
 consciously, as he alluded to the long-neglected cares of 
 home, he spoke with the manly self-devotion of one who, 
 having turned his back on happiness, began to see some 
 thing attractive in the rugged face of duty. 
 
 He began to see, but the light in his soul was newly lit. 
 It illumined the first steps of his way, but no more. It 
 gave him courage to set forward, but the distant future was 
 still a dreary blank, and still his soul was sad. 
 
 His conversation had been addressed to the elder mem 
 bers of the company. Havilah had been only a listener. 
 It was the first intimation she had received of his plans ; 
 and now, as she sat watching the flickering shadows, she 
 half forgot that he was by her side. She too had gone 
 out into the future, and hi imagination she was following 
 him over sea and land. The scope of her own little life 
 seemed suddenly narrowed, her own heart seemed not large 
 enough for her to live in. She could not endure to think 
 of El Fureidis. She feared she should be homesick even 
 in Lebanon. She yearned for something, she knew not 
 what, a home, perhaps, hi the stars. 
 
 She was roused from her reverie by the dipping of oars 
 within a few feet of the spot where she sat, and immedi 
 ately there skimmed past a flat-bottomed boat manned by 
 thin, wiry, white-cloaked Bedouins. It came and was gone 
 in an instant, a weird, ghost-like craft ; but as it darted 
 along the edge of the kiosk, a dark face at the bows 
 peered for an instant between the net-work of vines that
 
 318 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ran around the summer-house, and Havilah saw the glow of 
 a malicious but gratified curiosity overspread the face of 
 Abdoul, as he reviewed every feature of the scene within. 
 
 She glanced at Meredith, but his eyes were fixed on a 
 little cloud passing over the moon ; he had not changed his 
 position, he evidently had not observed the boy; and on 
 this, as on previous similar occasions, Havilah maintained 
 her composure, and, though indignant and alarmed, pru 
 dently kept her own counsel. The event, however, gave a 
 new current to her thoughts, and for the remainder of the 
 evening she could not wholly banish from her mind the un 
 defined fears excited by the temper and behavior of the 
 youth, who seemed to her at once a friend and an enemy. 
 She shrank from confiding her suspicious doubts to any one, 
 but secretly hoped that Abdoul Avould remain in Damascus, 
 and another escort be secured for the homeward journey. 
 
 But with her knowledge of his vicinity, and the famil 
 iarity he had acquired with the movements of her party, 
 she was the least astonished of the household, when, on the 
 very day preceding that appointed for departure, Abdoul 
 presented himself within the courts of Mustapha, and so 
 licited an interview with his master, M. Trefoil, and Father 
 Lapierre. 
 
 That the Ishmaelite should appear thus opportunely 
 might pass for one of the accidents or coincidences of a 
 lawless and vagrant life ; but coming as he did, it was dif 
 ficult to recognize in him the outlaw or the vagabond, for it 
 was not as a menial or a hireling that Abdoul now craved 
 an audience, but as an ambassador and a prince. 
 
 . Only in an Eastern land could one accustomed to wait 
 and to serve assume with any degree of plausibility the airs 
 of an equal and a lordling ; but the Oriental, of whatever 
 grade, is a born nobleman in all that pertains to the exterior
 
 . EL FUREIDIS. 319 
 
 graces and courtesies of life, and Abdoul, inured to hardship, 
 greedy of gain, and eager for hire, knew how, when occa 
 sion served, to bear himself as the son of a chieftain and the 
 heir of a boundless realm. 
 
 It is true he came attended only by the same rude mem 
 bers of his tribe who had lately been enlisted with him in 
 Meredith's service, and a single veteran Arab, who was a 
 more recent delegate from the tents of Zanadeen ; but Ab 
 doul had now assumed a dress corresponding to the rank he 
 emulated ; the soiled and ragged habiliments of his com 
 panions had been either superseded or overlaid by some 
 attempts at display and finery, and the superb beard and 
 stately deportment of "mine uncle," which was the title 
 Abdoul bestowed on his elder associate, served as a suf 
 ficient guaranty of the latter's state and respectability. 
 
 Formal and tedious were the introductions and salaams 
 with which Abdoul thought proper to preface his communi 
 cation and postpone the actual object of his visit. But the 
 solemnity and importance of his embassy being thus attested, 
 he at length opened his commission with characteristic grace 
 and brevity. "Zanadeen, sheik of the mighty Anezys, 
 Prince of the tribe of the Kahtanide, sends greeting and 
 salutation to thee, O father of the snowy beard, and to thee, 
 O skilful weaver of silk, and to thee, O most excellent 
 Frank," said the young courtier, gravely making obeisance 
 to each individual as he addressed him in his turn. " North 
 east of the Pearl of cities, between Kuryetein and Tadmor 
 in the wilderness, the sheik has pitched his house of hair. 
 Around him, on every side, the dwellings of his people dot 
 the plain. Spring smiles on the desert, the cattle find pas 
 ture, the Bedouin rejoices in the bounty of Allah. The 
 great heart of Zanadeen yearns to welcome the stranger, 
 and to call him brother and friend. The swift-winged mes-
 
 320 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 senger of Abdoul has borne tidings to the paternal ear that 
 ye sojourn now in Damascus. By the mouth of yon gray- 
 bearded man, mine uncle, the sheik sends answer back. ^ 
 listen to his words : ' Say thus to the worthy people who 
 journey from Damascus to Baalbec : Zanadeen, chief of the 
 Anezys, prays you to depart from the straight line of travel, 
 and honor the Arab tents with your presence. Mounted on 
 the swift camel, the desert track can be crossed between sun 
 and sun. The escort and the caravan shall be the care of 
 Zanadeen. The best animals of the tribe already await you 
 at Jerud, one day's journey from Damascus. The soft-paced 
 dromedary will be proud to bear hither so fair a burden as 
 thy daughter, O most excellent Trefoil. The women of our 
 harem will welcome her with joy, though her beauty put 
 theirs to shame. Our wives and our daughters, our sons 
 and our warriors, will vie with each other to show hospital 
 ity to you all. The journey may be to you the loss of a few 
 days. It will add joyful years to the life of Zanadeen. 
 With anxiety the chief awaits your answer. May it be 
 favorable to the hopes he cherishes. Such are the words of 
 Zanadeen.' " 
 
 As Abdoul finished speaking, he crossed his arms on his 
 breast, and, with the dignified air of a royal diplomatist 
 whose communication is ended, stood awaiting the reply to 
 his proposals. 
 
 The manner, no less than the subject of his mission, im 
 parted to it a grave character, and seemed to demand a direct 
 and decisive answer. There was a moment's silence among 
 his audience, then an interchange of glances, then a low- 
 voiced conference. Arguments were adduced in favor of 
 and adverse to the proposition, but the former preponderated. 
 It was unanimously decided that, although the detour into 
 the desert would prolong the homeward journey, the pros-
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 321 
 
 pect of a glimpse of nomadic life, the certainty of a safe 
 escort to Baalbec, and the pleasure of gratifying the sheik 
 and his son, were satisfactory compensations for the delay. 
 Both M. Lapierre and Meredith were desirous that the 
 decision should be referred to Havilah, but M. Trefoil un 
 hesitatingly took it upon himself to answer for her in the 
 affirmative. M. Lapierre was therefore deputed to signify, 
 in the name of his party, their acceptance of Zanadeen's 
 proffered hospitality, an office which the courteous old man 
 executed with a punctilious deference to ceremony which 
 served to enhance the dramatic effect of the interview. 
 
 In the name of his father, himself, and his tribe, Abdoul 
 acknowledged the compliment involved in this favorable 
 decision by an hyperbole of thanks. The details of depart 
 ure on the morrow were conducted in a similar strain of 
 mutual deference, and the youth and his companions finally 
 took their leave, retreating backward to the door, and ac 
 companying the act with profound and repeated reverences, 
 their demeanor from first to last constituting a scene which 
 would in any other land have been a complete burlesque of 
 courtesy, but which here among those habituated to Eastern 
 manners gave no occasion even for a smile. 
 
 It was not until the next morning that any opportunity 
 occurred of acquainting Havilah with the new programme 
 of adventure which awaited her ; and even then her father 
 mentioned it with a carelessness which showed how little 
 importance he attached to the change of route. He was 
 not a little disconcerted, therefore, at the look of blank dis 
 appointment, and even dread, which overspread her face at 
 the announcement, and at the sudden remonstrance which 
 escaped her. " Not wish to visit the father of your old 
 playmate?" he exclaimed in dismay, for he had believed 
 she would be attracted by the novelty of the excursion. 
 14* u
 
 322 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 " Shrink from the camel-riding ! dread the loneliness of 
 the desert ! fear the exposure to the sun ! That is not 
 like my adventurous girl. I never had a doubt but you 
 would be charmed with it all. But," continued the man, 
 zealous in kindliness and fertile in resources, " you shall be 
 suited as well as we, my daughter. We are pledged to go, 
 but you shah 1 stay in Damascus. We will take the trip 
 without you into the desert, and return hither before con 
 tinuing to Baalbec. That is the best plan after all. Mere 
 dith will consent, so will Father Lapierre. They were 
 anxious you should be consulted, but I was an obstinate old 
 fool." 
 
 M. Trefoil thought he had hit upon a satisfactory expe 
 dient ; but if Havilah had instinctively shrunk from his pre 
 vious scheme, she was vehement in resisting this. On no 
 account would she be separated from him and his friends. 
 Not a word of it to Mustapha, not a hint to Maysunah, 
 she besought of him with earnest entreaty. They would 
 insist upon her remaining ; she was bent now on the desert 
 journey. Her father was puzzled, but coaxed into a state of 
 satisfied bewilderment, and brought to declare, patting her 
 on the cheek, that he could not comprehend such an incon 
 sistent little woman, who neither wished to go nor to be left 
 behind ; but that she should have her way, if she could find 
 out what it was. And, fearful now of being left in Damas 
 cus, Havilah no longer suffered her way to be a matter of 
 question. Her way was the way of her party. 
 
 Maysunah was overwhelmed with childish grief at the 
 parting, her only consolation being in the hope of return 
 ing Havilah's visit before many months. The sick girl's 
 health was already improving, and, with a view both to 
 her happiness and her complete restoration, her father had 
 promised that, before the summer was past, he would bring 
 her with him to the Lebanon.
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 323 
 
 " I shall look for you with longing eyes, my white dove," 
 said Havilah, as they took a farewell embrace within the 
 inner court. " Come quickly, and stay long ; I shall yearn 
 for your sweet company ; I shall be alone, all alone ; " 
 and Havilah burst into tears. 
 
 Maysunah had been weeping for hours, but she dried her 
 own tears to wipe away those of her friend, and felt herself 
 grow and expand in the thought that she was destined to 
 fill a void in Havilah's heart, little dreaming, simple child, 
 that Havilah was already weeping less for her than at the 
 presentiment of a loss which all Maysunah's love would be 
 powerless to repair. 
 
 But no tears were on Havilah's face, no hesitation in her 
 step or air, when, bidding adieu to the hospitable roof of 
 Mustapha, she mounted her horse amid an assembled reti 
 nue. If she had fears, she silenced them. She looked 
 around her with apparent confidence, sat erect in her saddle 
 with the proud air of one who defies danger, waved her 
 hand gracefully to her host, and smiled kindly upon Abdoul. 
 The boy's handsome face glowed and his heart swelled with 
 vain rapture as he returned the salutation of his queen, and, 
 springing upon his white mare, realized that he was no 
 longer a servant, but the leader of the well-accoutred pro 
 cession which was setting forth on the route of the Palmyra 
 caravans.
 
 324 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE first day's journey was performed on horseback. 
 The road lay for three hours through the beautiful subur 
 ban gardens watered by the Barada and its canals, then 
 stretched away between the base of Anti-Lebanon on the 
 left and a boundless plain on the right, melting into the 
 distant horizon. As the path at times crossed the lower 
 spurs of the mountain, the plain presented to the traveller's 
 eye a scene of varied and indescribable beauty, varied 
 as the unreal visions of childhood, indescribable as the pleas 
 ures of a happy dream ; for the sun played deceitfully over 
 the prospect, and fair islands, bright gardens, lakes with 
 rippling surface, and streams with emerald shores, all 
 were the effect of the magic mirage. But it was not yet 
 the genuine desert travel. There were ravines to be 
 crossed, and villages to be encountered, and occasional 
 glimpses yet to be seen of stationary, if not civilized life. 
 
 A short time only was allotted for lunch at a little Arab 
 village, and by means of diligent, and at times rapid rid 
 ing, Jerud, the halting-place for the night, was reached at 
 sunset. 
 
 The camels and escort promised by Sheik Zanadeen had 
 already arrived. As Abdoul proudly led the way through 
 the principal street of the village, he exchanged frequent 
 salutations, not only with the inhabitants of the place, who 
 knew him well, but with several gayly dressed members of
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 325 
 
 his tribe, who were loitering there evidently in anticipation 
 of the guests. As their tribe was on friendly terms with 
 the sheik of the district, they had been freely admitted with 
 in the gates ; but their camels were picketed outside, in the 
 direction of the desert. The Aga, or Governor, who main 
 tained his court at Jerud, came forth from his house to 
 welcome the travellers and proffer his hospitality; but the 
 confusion that prevailed in his court-yard, which constituted 
 a sort of military outpost for the protection of the desert 
 frontier, was such, that his invitation was declined, and, in 
 accordance with Abdoul's movement, the party rode out of 
 the village by the gate opposite to that through which they had 
 entered, and chose a place of encampment near a little foun 
 tain, around which the camels were already grouped. The 
 travellers were now on the borders of the desert, were 
 already the guests of the Arabs, and were surrounded by 
 evidences of nomadic life. Swarthy Bedouins were passing 
 to and fro, with the free step and confident air which these 
 sons of the wilderness assume the moment they are on their 
 undisputed territory. Camels were stretching their long 
 necks and intruding their withered faces within the tents. 
 An Arab boy, outside, was pounding coffee-beans in a wooden 
 mortar, skilfully beating time, and thus making a rude sort 
 of music, with his pestle. 
 
 Abdoul seemed transformed into a new creature. It was 
 hard to recognize in him the shy being, who, with his head 
 on his breast, his arms folded, and his countenance dejected, 
 shrunk from the eye of man. Now he walked erect, with a 
 swift, springing gait, or, vaulting lightly into his saddle, 
 bounded over the fields leading to the village, busily exe 
 cuting some voluntary errand, or spurring on some lazy 
 comrade who had failed to execute an order. 
 
 The whole expression of the young Arab's face was
 
 326 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 changed. He had gained, or nearly so, the height of his 
 ambition. Elevated now to a position of authority and 
 honor, he served his guests with amiability and zeal. His 
 better nature, crushed by jealousy and mortification, ap 
 peared to expand under the influence of new responsibilities 
 and hopes. Even his jealousy seemed satisfied, now that 
 he believed himself an equal in the contest, and breathed 
 what he felt to be an atmosphere of fair play. It was im 
 possible to suspect so unsophisticated a youth of sinister 
 designs, or to believe so true an Arab would ever violate the 
 sacred laws of hospitality. Havilah, ashamed of her late 
 suspicions, saw in him once more the brother of her child 
 hood, reposed in him an involuntary trust, and never in her 
 life slept a more undisturbed sleep than on that first night 
 upon the border of an unknown desert, surrounded by a 
 Bedouin guard. 
 
 The silence and repose of the desert are not shared by 
 its people. The Arabs are proverbially a noisy, excita 
 ble race. Especially when they have a journey in view, 
 or work of any sort on hand, they accompany their labors 
 with such a storm of shrieks, vituperations, and harsh gut 
 tural dialogues, as would, among any other population, be 
 token an excess of fuiy and anger. There seemed to be a 
 remarkably good understanding between Abdoul and the 
 escort of which he was chief. Still the occupants of the 
 tents were disturbed at daybreak by a volley of threats, 
 exclamations, and epithets, which elsewhere could only 
 have been equalled by a rebellious soldiery or a crew of 
 mutineers. Fortunately, strangers as they were in the des 
 ert, our travellers knew enough of Arab life and manners to 
 understand that these noisy demonstrations were a neces 
 sary feature of an early morning start ; and that the camel- 
 drivers and attendants, who, wrapt in their cloaks, had slept
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 327 
 
 all night on the hard ground, were merely exercising their 
 lungs in a familiar style of oratory. 
 
 Thus the " Yakh ! yakh ! hai ! hai ! " with which they shout 
 ed to their camels, and the " Yullah ! yullah ! wallah! wallah ! " 
 with which they prefaced every remark to each other, cre 
 ated no more alarm than the crowing of energetic cocks in a 
 farm-yard, while the oaths and personal abuse with which 
 they discussed their differences, (for the most friendly Arabs 
 will quarrel on every question, and argue every point,) sim 
 ply signified to the initiated that the daily conflict of opinion 
 had begun, and that when it was concluded the caravan 
 would start. 
 
 Long before the agitation was allayed, the guests of the 
 party were ready and impatient to mount, for the sweet, 
 keen air of the desert is the traveller's inspiration ; and 
 though the sun's rays beat fiercely on his head, they serve 
 only to kindle a proportionate ardor and an intenser sense 
 of joy. 
 
 " Hateful old camel ! cruel, scorching sun ! lonely, tedious 
 journey ! " whispered M. Trefoil to his daughter, in a tone of 
 waggish irony, and rubbing his hands in high glee. Havi- 
 lah was standing beside the dromedary intended for her use. 
 "With a smile of gratified surprise, she was surveying the 
 travelling equipment, her eye glancing from the embroid 
 ered saddle-cloth, with its deep worsted fringes, silken tas 
 sels, and ornaments of shells, to the wide-spreading shug- 
 duf, or cushioned frame-work placed across the animal's 
 back, and surmounted by a little silken canopy. 
 
 Abdoul, meanwhile, held the submissive creature by the 
 head, and was gurgling in its ear the " Ikh ! ikh ! " by which 
 persuasive term the desert camel is invariably taught to 
 kneel. M. Trefoil had not misinterpreted the animated 
 glow that had been called up in Havilah's face by the nov-
 
 EL FOQDIS. 
 
 elry and exdteinent of the moment. She responded to her 
 fjlBLi> 111 i by looking over her shoulder, her mce rip- 
 pfiag widt a sadle, which betrayed a quick comprehenaon 
 of dK sarcasm; tbou phci^ her foot beade that of Abdoul, 
 OB A* neck of die now prostrate dromedary, she sprung into 
 her snog parihan, and her smile broke into a peal of girlish 
 fcui^er. as die at the same moiaent eangbt agbt of Geixa, 
 randy attempting to mount her camel, and making wrj 
 moade at the scowling Arab, who was gntficnfarting at her, 
 and shrieking in die ear of her beast. 
 
 -Look there !* excfetimed M. TrefoiL wirn increased hi- 
 krfiy, mdgh^ Meredid^s elbow, and pointing to HavHah, 
 a aanile oneonseionsBeaB how little tln TjoKslinaii fm^f 
 eyes for anything eke when she was present. * See tint 
 emld now in her nest of shawk, a butterfly among roee- 
 leares! Why, she k in her element; and she tried to per- 
 svade me that ^ie dreaded the expedition! A gbT* sub- 
 ternge, I knew it aD the wbUe!" andthe sdf-ati^ed 
 parent trotted ofi; and commenced the difieoJt task of dhnb- 
 g p the ade of his own desert ship. 
 
 * She langhs ! 3 thought MerafiA, generoody rejokmg in 
 the mtmal outburst. * I hare not heard her laugh before 
 once her other died; " anal he Cdt his own heart grow 
 hghter, as afl atans seemed to him to echo fbf menr 
 peaL 
 
 "She hmghs,- and Abdool to himseh^ with secret ex- 
 The desert hasgrren taA anfles to the Leba 
 Base. She ciniet mnae with her to die tents of 
 
 > 1*K*IHBUU*^^ O^MJU UKv JaWCCy MAaU. ^IBVWUl^ 
 
 waving las phoned hmee orer hb head, the seK-deloded 
 yomh led die way, as he befiered, to scenes of yet deeper 
 
 tardier* agree respecting the effect of de-
 
 EL FEKDDBL 
 
 ert journeying. Afl bear testimony to that ' 
 
 of the air, which quickens the sense 
 
 derates the spirits, and dnfnses through the whole 
 
 sense of increased vitality. ~ Hence it is/* says 
 
 Burton, after oalgiiing at length the moral and physical 
 
 benefits of this species of travel, * that the j 
 
 well as the most imujinliii minds, the 
 
 most peaceful student, the spoiled ehfli of emulation, all 
 
 feel their hearts difaue, and their pulses beat strong, as they 
 
 looBr dowTQ ITPBI ^*p^*rr dRMBoduVics VDOD. toe ' 
 
 ert." Hence it is, we may add, that the eye 
 
 weary of fc nose objects, whether 
 
 wbkh may chance to stand out in the 
 
 htion, then* remoteness or rarity being 
 
 for by the intensity of a sharpened via 
 
 nothing is dwcrnnoie save the bine sky above, and the 
 
 m 
 
 &auu^ or jEnntHBtrewn, exDanse oeneatn. tne sout jdouia 
 
 treadtttg *a haggard bund. mfrMffl with wild ItcastB and 
 wilder men, a region whose very fountains murmur the 
 warning words, -Drink and away.' Thus," to quote atiR 
 iurHHTj * man, mcaHUiiing his puny force with nature's 
 .-'--.. u:-.ifr>:^-ii :i; Ar.uV; 7r;ver:. 'YojUgiBg :? i 
 rictory.'* 
 
 To our excursionists. |M IK li iling, but one day's 
 into the Syrian desert, and that fen 
 of a powerful escort, there was all the stimulus which 
 be derived from the wild, the picturesque, the 
 mixed with any reasonable cause of apprehension or < 
 Still, it added not a fittfe to the romantic character of the 
 expedition, that Abdoul nought proper, at mterrals, to dart 
 away from his pace at the head of the caravan, mount some 
 fittfe elevation, and gaze abroad with the keen eye of a
 
 330 EL FUEEIDIS. 
 
 scout. The print of a camel's hoof in the sand, or a crop 
 ped blade of grass in those spots where a scanty herbage 
 had thrust itself through the hard ground, was sufficient 
 to excite the youth's suspicions, and put him on the alert. 
 There was, perhaps, some little affectation in his proceed 
 ings, some assumption of weighty authority, some desire to 
 display his graceful person and excellent horsemanship ; 
 but it almost invariably proved the case that his quick 
 intelligence had acted as a telegraph, or his sharp eye as 
 a telescope. Now, his suspicions were confirmed by the 
 abrupt appearance of a little company of Bedouins, emerg 
 ing from a neighboring hollow, and surprising all the party 
 save Abdoul, who seemed quite prepared for their approach, 
 gave them a friendly greeting, and suffered them to pass 
 unchallenged. Now he suddenly spurred his mare across 
 the plain, one hand grasping his dagger, the other causing 
 his long lance to quiver above his head, in preparation for 
 a stroke. He seemed to be rushing Avith Quixotic zeal 
 against an imaginary foe ; but the eyes that followed him 
 were not long in discerning a couple of horsemen, who 
 were bearing down upon the youth from an opposite direc 
 tion, their pointed muskets and vehement gesticulations 
 alarming the caravan for the safety of their champion, 
 who might be exposed to some merciless enemy or hered 
 itary blood-feud. 
 
 As the parties met, however, and the new-comers un 
 covered their faces, purposely hid until now by their kefi- 
 yehs, weapons were lowered, angry gestures gave place to 
 salutations, threats to embraces. Mutual inquiries were ex 
 changed between the young chieftain and these emissaries 
 of a friendly tribe, then the former wheeled around and 
 gravely returned to his post ; the latter, without approaching 
 the strange caravan, pursued their course in one of those
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 331 
 
 diagonal, trackless lines, with which, ever since the days of 
 Ishmael, his roving descendants have been wont to intersect 
 the desert. 
 
 These and similar incidents alone marked the day. As 
 no oasis of verdure, not a tree, nor even a shrub, offered its 
 tempting shade, no halt was made at noon. Lunch was 
 taken in haste, without dismounting, and the journey pro 
 gressed uninterruptedly. Towards sunset our party be 
 gan to perceive symptoms of an inhabited district. Horse 
 men, singly or in groups, frequently hove in sight ; in some 
 instances, they approached sufficiently near to exchange a 
 signal with Abdoul; in others, they were satisfied with 
 careering around the caravan in a Avide circle, taking a 
 distant observation, and then galloping off in the direction 
 the travellers were pursuing. At length a low, dark line 
 was discernible against the horizon ; a few moments more, 
 and the black tents of Zanadeen's tribe were clearly visible, 
 mere specks in the floating cloud of animal life which en 
 compassed them, and which constituted the wealth of this 
 pastoral people. Soon the outposts of the encampment 
 were gained, and the procession was winding amid groups 
 of camels, picketed at a distance from the tents, at whatever 
 points the spare herbage might serve the patient animals 
 for pasture. Here and there, slender, graceful-formed Arab 
 girls were returning from their milking excursions with pails 
 of foaming milk upon their heads, and shepherds were call 
 ing in their docile flocks, which followed obedient to the 
 voices of their masters. These indications of nomadic life 
 became more frequent at every step of our travellers' pro 
 gress, until at length, as they approached the central point, 
 towards which men and flocks alike converged, they found 
 themselves amid " one vast forest of camels, with a dense 
 underwood of sheep and goats."
 
 332 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 Numerous as were the dwellings of this great Anezy 
 tribe, their numbers were disproportionately small to those 
 of their flocks and herds, and the latter would to a great 
 degree have obscured the former, had it not been for the 
 favorable site which in this instance had been selected for 
 the "houses of hair." They stood on a slight eminence, 
 which commanded the entire plain, and were arranged in 
 the form of a crescent, their fronts religiously turned towards 
 Mecca. The house of Zanadeen possessed no advantage 
 over those of the inferiors of the tribe, except that it was 
 somewhat larger, was profusely adorned with tassels, shells, 
 and fringe, and possessed a sort of supplementary tent or 
 harem. In accordance with Arab notions of hospitality, it 
 was placed at the extremity or horn of the crescent nearest 
 to the quarter whence the approach of guests might be 
 anticipated, and thus, almost before they realized its vicinity, 
 the party of visitors halted at the very door, and in the very 
 presence, of their host. 
 
 Zanadeen, who had been duly informed of their approach, 
 received them with patriarchal dignity. The old man was 
 seated on a strip of Persian carpet, spread before the en 
 trance of his tent His appearance was venerable in the 
 extreme. His spare form was bent with years ; his snowy 
 beard, reaching below his breast, rivalled that of M. La- 
 pierre ; but his brilliant silk robe, his scarlet cloak, the 
 heavily fringed kefiyeh bound around his white turban, 
 imparted to the veteran Bedouin a wild and picturesque air. 
 His deep-set eye was as keen and restless as that of his son ; 
 and, surrounded as the sheik was by his nearest relatives 
 and most distinguished men, it was easy to recognize in him 
 the chief dignitary of the tribe. 
 
 Whatever might be Zanadeen's pride and ambition as a 
 host, all emotions were superseded for a moment by the joy
 
 EL FUREIDIS, 333 
 
 with which he welcomed back that frequent truant, AbdouL 
 The meeting between the father and son was truly affecting. 
 Almost before the other members of the party had come to 
 a halt, the youth had sprung from his saddle, thrown his 
 arms round the sheik's neck, and kissed him on either cheek, 
 a caress which was reciprocated with equal ardor ; and then, 
 holding the boy by both hands, and with difficulty refrain 
 ing from tears, the old man uttered brief and anxious 
 inquiries concerning his son's health and welfare. Other 
 members of the tribe, young and old, stood ready to strike 
 palms with the young chief, and receive him to their em 
 braces ; and while these affectionate demonstrations were 
 going forward, Zanadeen turned to bestow a greeting on 
 his guests. " Marahabbah ! " (You are welcome !) " Allah 
 kerym ! " (The Lord is gracious !) and many similar excla 
 mations of good-will and thanksgiving, met the ears of the 
 travellers, as one after another they alighted on the carpet 
 at the tent-door; and the words of courtesy and kindness 
 were caught up and echoed by the swarthy, curious-eyed 
 crowd, until the air rang with the acclaim. 
 
 Most reverential and flattering was the sheik's reception 
 of Havilah. As her feet touched the ground, the old man 
 laid his hand on his heart, and bent before her until the tip 
 of his beard nearly swept the carpet " Selamet, ya meleky, 
 selame, ya syt ! " (Welcome, queen ! welcome, madam !) were 
 the first words of his salutation, succeeded by compliments 
 uttered in such a high-flown strain as to call the rich blushes 
 into the young girl's cheek. " My heart melts at the sight 
 of thy beauty, O fair one ! Thou art one of the visions of 
 Paradise. Thou hast come to my soul in dreams. The 
 planets of heaven borrow their light from thine eyes." Such 
 was the hyperbole of praise which he poured forth, until 
 Havilah, modestly recoiling both from the old man's profuse
 
 334 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 flatteries and the gaping admiration of the Bedouin crowd, 
 was glad to take refuge in the harem of the sheik, to which 
 he at length conducted her. 
 
 The Bedouin harem is at once the storehouse, kitchen, 
 bedroom, and nursery of the household. That of Zanadeen 
 consisted of strips of black goafs-hair cloth, stretched from a 
 central pole to several similar supports, arranged so as to 
 form a square. Around the central staff huge jars of honey 
 or dates, wheat-sacks, coffee-bags, and other family stores, 
 were stacked in a pyramidal form. Close to this promiscu 
 ous heap was placed a strip of carpet, which constituted the 
 seat of honor. The remaining space which the tent afforded 
 was devoted to culinary and other domestic uses. In one 
 corner, a wrinkled hag, dressed in a long blue robe, and 
 with a black handkerchief bound around her head, was lean 
 ing over a smoking caldron ; near her were two young 
 women, one of whom was pounding wheat in a copper mor 
 tar, and the other baking thin cakes upon a heated iron pan. 
 All three looked up eagerly at Havilah as she entered, but 
 none of them ceased their operations, or came forward to bid 
 her welcome. The reception was reserved for the presid 
 ing genius of the place, a tall, well-formed woman, who 
 stood near the heap of stores, from which she had been deal 
 ing out portions to her subalterns. This was the favorite 
 wife of the sheik, and the mother of Abdoul. The withered 
 hag in the corner had formerly boasted the rank and favor 
 now enjoyed by another. Her two sons, also, had once 
 been the hope of Zanadeen, but one had been killed in a 
 foray, one died on a desert march, and their mother had 
 lived to be dethroned by a younger bride, and to see her 
 rival's son the star and boast of his tribe. The beauty of 
 the present pride of the harem was already on the wane ; 
 but she had fulness and dignity of person ; her eyes were
 
 EL FUREIDIS. ,335 
 
 large and lustrous ; her lips, punctured and stained with a 
 blue dye, were compressed and haughty ; her whole mien 
 was indicative of conscious power, and her bright-red kefi- 
 yeh, her armlets and anklets of colored glass, and a heavy 
 silver ring worn in her nose, suggested a love of savage 
 finery. 
 
 Her reception of Havilah Avas a strange mingling of 
 boldness, curiosity, and awe. She unhesitatingly took her 
 young visitor by the hand, drew her within the tent, and 
 invited her to take a seat on the carpet; then, squatting 
 down beside her, scrutinized her dress, her features, and 
 her behavior in silence. 
 
 But impressed as the sheik's wife was by a loveliness and 
 refinement which surpassed all her preconceived ideas, in- 
 quisitiveness soon got the better of veneration, and she 
 commenced handling the material of Havilah's dress, scarf, 
 and shoes, at the same time assailing her with a volley of 
 questions. Havilah submitted to her hostess's inspection 
 with good-humor, and patiently answered all her queries; 
 but it was something of a relief, that the head of the estab 
 lishment was frequently interrupted, and summoned from 
 her inquisitorial post to superintend the cooking depart 
 ment, and maintain her domestic sway. These episodes 
 were not calculated to convey a very flattering idea of 
 her temper or character. Her voice was loud, her manners 
 and language overbearing and peremptory. Whether por 
 tioning out stores, directing her handmaidens, or making 
 occasional assaults upon her young children, two little 
 brothers of Abdoul, who were playing about the tent, she 
 evinced a pride and severity which made her presence 
 less welcome each time that she returned to her place beside 
 Havilah. 
 
 Preparations for supper, meanwhile, went rapidly for-
 
 336 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ward. ' The aroma of coffee began to mingle with the 
 almost suffocating smoke which filled the tent. The steam 
 from the caldron was savory with the herbs which were 
 boiling among the stew. The thin cakes were baked crisp 
 and brown. At length the huge joints of mutton were 
 ladled out, and, floating in a sea of rice, were carried forth 
 to be served to the sheik and his guests, Havilah having 
 declined everything save coffee, bread, and dates, which 
 were brought her by the old woman. 
 
 Comparative quiet and order now ensued in the harem, 
 the smoke gradually subsided, the cooking-utensils were 
 put out of sight. The sun had gone down, and, as the 
 moon rose late, there was no light in the camp save that 
 which proceeded from watch-fires burning in front of the 
 semicircle of tents. The harem stood in the rear of the 
 sheik's larger dwelling, and was therefore in deep shadow. 
 Leaning against the camel-furniture, which had been thrown 
 over the bales and bags, in the centre of the apartment, 
 Havilah listened to the deep nasal din of Arab talk and 
 argument going forward in the camp, a din which she right 
 ly foresaw would continue far into the night. Immediately 
 around her, however, a refreshing stillness prevailed. The 
 domineering principal had drawn off her children, and her 
 self retreated to a partitioned corner of the sheik's tent; 
 the young serving-women, also, had disappeared. Geita, 
 vexed at the importunities of the Arab girls, had long 
 since manifested her disgust at the whole establishment by 
 curling herself up in a corner, like a kitten, and falling 
 asleep. 
 
 "You are tired, pretty one," said a harshly-tuned, but 
 not unkindly voice, breaking in upon Havilah's meditations. 
 She turned and saw the withered crone crouching close be 
 side her, and looking up in her face. Havilah had no fear
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 337 
 
 of the old Arab woman ; she was accustomed to the ugliness 
 of the ancient females of the race, and, despite the discon 
 tented scowl which was the beldam's habitual expression, 
 there was something in her patient assiduity and submission 
 to a menial lot which had enlisted Havilah's sympathy. 
 So she acknowledged her fatigue, as a child makes confes 
 sion to its nurse, and learned to her satisfaction that she and 
 Geita were to enjoy undisturbed possession of the harem, 
 the old woman alone officiating as their companion and pro 
 tector. The weary traveller now wrapped herself in a thick 
 burnous, lay down on a bed of Persian mats, and was hushed 
 to sleep as by a lullaby, for the last sound she heard was the 
 voice of the old woman, who, seating herself on the carpet, 
 swayed her bent form backward and forward, and in monot 
 onous tones invoked the peace of Allah upon her beautiful 
 charge, whom she typified by many a sweet, endearing 
 epithet, such as " Ya ainee ! " (My eye ! ) " Ya kolbee ! " 
 (My heart ! ) 
 
 15
 
 338 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE next day was a continued festival in the camp of 
 Zanadeen. There was no lack of laborious activity among 
 the Arabs of both sexes, but, except the necessary tasks of 
 milking the cattle and driving them to pasture, all the 
 energies of the tribe were expended for the entertainment 
 of their guests, and the universal enjoyment of the occasion. 
 
 The old women in the tents were busily occupied in 
 making butter, and pounding wheat and spices. The shep 
 herds were selecting the fattest of their sheep and kids, and 
 slaying them for the approaching banquet. The young 
 women were braiding their long hair in innumerable tresses, 
 and assuming their choicest anklets and rings. The young 
 men were making preparations for the jeryd, or tournament 
 with the lance, which was to constitute the chief diversion 
 of the day. 
 
 This latter exercise involved numerous preliminaries. 
 Horses of endless pedigree must be faultlessly groomed, 
 fed with dainties, and caparisoned in a style proportioned 
 to their rank and merits. Silver-embossed bridles must be 
 polished, slender lances freshly plumed, and the youths 
 themselves attired in the best outfit their scanty wardrobes 
 could furnish. Finally, the space in front of the sheik's 
 tent must be freed from all encumbrances, and the cattle 
 picketed there removed to the opposite side of the camp, 
 in order to afford the riders free scope to run their tilt.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 339 
 
 Abdoul was the head and front of all these proceedings. 
 Dressed in a gaudy silk robe surmounted by a richly 
 embroidered vest, with his feet cased in yellow boots and 
 the fringed ends of his kefiyeh floating like pennons in the 
 breeze, the handsome young chieftain curvetted over the 
 plain upon his white mare, performing various equestrian 
 exploits, and devoutly believing himself the centre of all 
 eyes. He had reached his pinnacle of grandeur ; and 
 never had city coxcomb more faith in his own pretensions 
 than had this vain and ambitious boy in the infallibility of 
 his daring hopes. He had flung down the gage to his rival, 
 and already anticipated the triumph. He little dreamed, 
 poor heir of ignorance and child of conceit ! that, while 
 he was figuring as a picturesque spectacle, his rival was 
 engrossing the heart of his queen, and winning victories 
 over all his tribe. 
 
 Nor was he the only unconscious and ignorant one ; 
 for the Englishman was as innocent of endeavor and in 
 credulous of success as the Arab was bold and presuming. 
 But this grave self-abnegating Englishman had of late 
 possessed some strange power of winning hearts. He 
 knew the Bedouin race well ; they had been his compan 
 ions in many journeys. He spoke their language with 
 fluency. In the deserts of Mesopotamia and El Hejaz he 
 had overawed them by his courage, and repressed their 
 familiarity by his reserve. But it was otherwise now. 
 He felt an awakening of manly tenderness and compassion 
 for these errant children of the earth, paupers in all that 
 is wealth and joy to the civilized man. He had come 
 among them, too, as a guest, not to bargain for their services, 
 and resist their encroachments, but to enjoy their hospitality, 
 and eat their scanty bread. It was a case to arouse his 
 chivalrous interest and his desire to befriend.
 
 340 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 His noble figure and frank countenance had prepossessed 
 the tribe in his favor from the moment he entered their 
 camp ; the patience with which he had during the evening 
 listened to their tales of daring exploits had flattered 
 their self-love, and the stories of modern inventions and 
 world-renowned discoveries with which he had entertained 
 them in his turn had taken possession of their excitable 
 minds, exalted him into a hero, and held the attention of 
 the group about the watch-fires far into the night. 
 
 And now, whether seated outside the sheik's tent or stroll 
 ing through the camp, he was followed and surrounded by 
 an astonished, admiring throng, which, so far from repel 
 ling, he condescended to talk with and entertain. 
 
 Nor was he wanting in resources more real and tangible 
 than those of an eloquent tongue. A miniature opera-glass 
 which he produced for their inspection transported them 
 with delight. A pocket compass, whose use he carefully 
 explained, prompted them to look upon him as a species of 
 demigod. One of those ingenious articles, which, under 
 the form of a pocket-knife, contains a dozen of the mi 
 nor conveniences of life, caused the curious crowd to 
 huddle together and gaze upon it with flashing, covetous 
 eyes. As these things were passed from hand to hand, 
 many a " Mashallah ! " testified their surprise, many an 
 " Inshallah ! " called heaven to witness ; and when, with a 
 profuse generosity for which the Arabs were unprepared, 
 Meredith bestowed these valuables on the chiefs of the 
 tribe, and distributed gifts of fire-arms, tobacco, and cloth 
 ing among the men of lesser note, their impulsive and 
 easily-stirred natures were warmed to fever heat. With 
 a storm of grateful thanks they hailed him as "father of 
 good fortune," and so overwhelmed him with flattering ex 
 pressions of affection, that he found himself much in the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 341 
 
 position of a visitor who has excited the children of a re 
 spectable family to a riot, of which he begins to be ashamed, 
 but knows not how to quell. 
 
 It was a relief, therefore, to his weariness and embarrass 
 ment, when the sound of tambourines, cymbals, and other 
 rude instruments denoted that the tournament was about 
 to commence, and that he might be permitted to take a 
 position with the other guests, and be an undisturbed spec 
 tator of the game. 
 
 Only the fresh youth of the tribe had a part in this 
 military exercise. Mounted on perfectly trained horses, of 
 which the riders seemed a part, they arranged themselves 
 in two parallel lines, each youth facing his opponent, and 
 awaiting a signal to commence the charge. Abdoul, con 
 spicuous among his companions both for beauty and grace, 
 was stationed at the extremity of that line which was near 
 est to the sheik's tent, and the simple waving of his hand 
 served throughout the game as a word of command. Only 
 a single antagonist advanced at the first summons, and was 
 met by Abdoul in mid-career, both horsemen holding their 
 lances high above their heads, and causing the thin reeds 
 to quiver until they seemed like things of life. As the 
 ambition of each youth was to disarm his adversary, these 
 lances were the objects of attack. At the first charge, the 
 thrusts on both sides were unsuccessful. With a rapid 
 evolution the attempt was resumed, but was in like manner 
 foiled, one rider bending to his saddle-bow, and holding his 
 lance close to the ground, the other vaulting upon one side 
 and sheltering himself and his weapon behind the body 
 of his horse. Both tiltsmen were skilled in the game ; 
 but, though possessing a formidable adversaiy, Abdoul tri 
 umphed in sure success, and challenged his comrade with 
 superb effrontery. The opponent's lance was the prize of
 
 342 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 the contest. Nevertheless Abdoul ventured to toss his 
 weapon high in the air directly above his combatant's 
 head, then dart forward, recover it, and dash on at a flying 
 pace. Again, relying on the unequalled speed of the Khad- 
 here, he hesitated not to fling his plumed reed in advance of 
 him with such skill as to plant it upright in the ground. 
 The game now became a race, but one in which the sheik's 
 son was sure to win. The adversary made but feeble en 
 deavors to imitate the young chief's daring, satisfied with 
 acting on the defensive, and striving to take advantage of 
 the risks which Abdoul run. But to do this was impossi 
 ble. Abdoul's skill was only equalled by his wariness, and 
 at length, in the very moment when he had carried his own 
 temerity to the utmost, he bounded upon his enemy's lance 
 and bore it off in triumph. 
 
 This act was the signal for fresh lancers to rush into the 
 mimic warfare, both the conqueror and the conquered de 
 manding fresh adversaries; and as one after another was 
 disarmed, and new opponents were called for, the whole 
 company were gradually admitted into the lists. Thus the 
 scene became more and more complicated, wild, and ex 
 citing. 
 
 The old chief and his guests meanwhile watched the 
 progress of the game, their eyes instinctively following Ab 
 doul, who, acting under the inspiration of Havilah's pres 
 ence, appeared to be endued with magic powers. He was 
 everywhere in the thickest of the melee, the tall plumes 
 of his lance towering above those of his comrades. So 
 wonderful and rapid were the feats he performed, that 
 sometimes he knelt, sometimes stood aloft in the saddle, 
 sometimes seemed for a second to be suspended from the 
 Khadhere by his wiry hand or the hollow sole of his foot, 
 which clung as it were by magnetic attraction. Occasion-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 343 
 
 ally he leaped to the ground, ran a few steps, and vaulted 
 again upon the back of the animal, who apparently under 
 stood and aided her master's manoeuvre. One after another 
 his antagonists were discomfited and disarmed, but in no 
 case was Abdoul baffled or his lance wrested from him. It 
 was evident to the most careless observer, that the chief's 
 son was the unrivalled victor hi the contest. 
 
 But, however interested the spectators might be in the 
 game and its actors, the scene was after all monotonous ; 
 and, being prolonged for an unreasonable length of time, 
 the attention of the group around the tent was gradually 
 diverted. Questioned by the old sheik, who had all the 
 Arab's curiosity, Meredith was led to speak of the military 
 exercises of his own people. From this he had passed to 
 tales of actual warfare, and the battles and sieges of the 
 Crimea (recent horrors then) had been recounted for the 
 chieftain's benefit. With open-mouthed wonder the veteran 
 Arab had drunk in these wonderful narrations. The soul- 
 stirring charge of the Light Brigade, so different from the 
 feigned attacks and artificial forays of Arab life, had im 
 pressed him with thoughtful reverence. The recollection of 
 these events had power, too, over the mind of the narra 
 tor. Tender memories, ruptured friendships, private griefs, 
 were associated in Meredith's mind with the catastrophes 
 he was describing ; and, turning to Havilah, who had stood 
 beside him, not the least attentive of his audience, he ap 
 pealed to her woman's sympathies in behalf of the desolate 
 homes and broken hearts of England. 
 
 She was leaning on his arm. He held an umbrella above 
 her head to shield her from the sun. Either the possession 
 of this article, or some other tacitly assumed claim, had con 
 stituted him her protector amid this wild scene. Perhaps 
 this familiar relation, perhaps a growing faith in her friend-
 
 344 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 ship, encouraged him to something of the freedom of former 
 days, for he talked to her of noble schoolfellows slain, and 
 wives and mothers bereaved, as if he realized that they two 
 had known sorrow, and pity had upon them a peculiar claim. 
 
 It was at this moment, when Meredith spoke softly of 
 the dead, unconsciously revealing his own desolation, and 
 Havilah looked up at him with dewy eye, pitying the stran 
 gers much, but her friend more, when, unobserved by 
 them both, the tournament had ended, and the circle around 
 the tent dispersed, that Abdoul galloped up on his white 
 mare, like some knight of old, coming to find his guerdon of 
 praise in those smiles which had so often cheered and en 
 couraged the lesser exploits of his boyhood. He did not 
 approach the tent from the front, but came up on one side ; 
 the mare stepped so daintily that her footfall was unnoticed; 
 the umbrella too interposed between its owner and the boy, 
 until the latter had dismounted and come forward, lance in 
 hand, ready to plant the victorious weapon at Havilah's feet. 
 Such was evidently the youth's intention ; but it was not 
 fulfilled. A glance at her and her companion, alone and 
 mutually engrossed, was enough to change the counte 
 nance and purpose of the excited victor. His smile of 
 triumph gave place to a fierce scowl ; he grasped his lance 
 with a savage gesture ; he stood still with compressed 
 lips, and eyes that would have committed murder if they 
 could. 
 
 Havilah started and colored like a detected criminal. She 
 saw at once that the demon had again taken possession of 
 the boy, and with haste she strove to exorcise it. It was 
 too late, however. Her " Bravely done, Abdoul ! " was 
 hardly spoken, her hand scarcely outstretched in token of 
 congratulation, before the youth had darted round the tent, 
 with difficulty repressing a menacing gesture, and followed
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 345 
 
 by the Khadhere, which uttered a loud snort, and kicked up 
 her heels disdainfully, as if resenting some insult offered to 
 her master. 
 
 " Strange, whimsical fellow ! " exclaimed Meredith, with 
 mingled amusement and compassion. " In my country he 
 would be a subject for the mad-house ; but here in the des 
 ert they are all wild men. He has disturbed you, though," 
 continued the young man, anxiously. "I thought Abdoul 
 had been too much of a courtier for that, too considerate 
 a host ! But do not regard his sudden freaks ; I have found 
 him an amiable savage in the main. The heat is becom 
 ing too severe for you on this side the tent ; will you go 
 in?" 
 
 Havilah, flushed and agitated, replied readily in the 
 affirmative, it being her chief desire now to escape from 
 the presence of Meredith, lest her continuing in his society 
 should still further whet the jealous wrath of Abdoul. 
 
 The tournament was succeeded by a banquet, the princi 
 pal, indeed the only formal meal of the day. The fare 
 consisted of boiled mutton served with rice, huge platters 
 of dates, with pyramids of snowy butter in the centre, flat 
 wheaten cakes, transparent honey, and, in addition to these 
 ordinary articles of diet, a roasted kid, stuffed with a paste 
 made of pistachio-nuts, raisins, almonds, bread-crumbs, 
 pepper, and salt, a luxury the preparation of which had 
 taxed all the skill of the best cook of the tribe. This en 
 tertainment was partaken of by the men alone, females 
 being by custom excluded. But this circumstance did not 
 prevent Abdoul from finding in the occasion further food 
 for his wrath and suspicion, a sort of food for which his 
 appetite was more keen, than for all the dainties of the 
 banquet. 
 
 The compliments and ceremonials of a Bedouin feast are 
 15*
 
 346 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 far from congenial to European tastes. The custom of 
 plunging the hand into a common dish, and tearing the meat 
 apart with the fingers, is sufficiently objectionable ; but a 
 guest's forbearance is still further tested by the necessity of 
 receiving with a good grace the choice morsels which are 
 pressed upon him by hands that are none of the cleanliest. 
 Meredith would gladly have dispensed with the surfeit of 
 titbits with which he was especially distinguished; but while 
 he secretly loathed the rice-balls and fleshy morsels stretched 
 out to him by greasy fingers from every quarter, Abdoul, 
 seated in the outskirts of the convivial circle, saw in these 
 and similar civilities tokens of the defection of his whole 
 tribe to the enemy. Every flashing eye, fixed in admiring 
 reverence upon the Englishman, was like a spark striking 
 upon the tinder of the boy's vindictive passions. There was 
 a mine of inflammable matter underneath, waiting only to be 
 ignited ; but the explosion did not come yet. 
 
 Twilight stole upon the banquet, and gray evening soon 
 enfolded the camp. Watch-fires were now lighted, and the 
 circle of white-robed Bedouins, seated in front of Zanadeen's 
 tent, looked ghastly in the glare. Their brilliant black eyes 
 reflected the fire-light, and gleamed like a ring of miniature 
 lamps. The goat's-hair hangings, in front of the tent were 
 looped up so that the wives and female guests of the sheik 
 had a full view of the scene, of which they now became a 
 part. Camel furniture and saddles heaped against the posts of 
 the tent afforded comfortable seats to Havilah and Geita, as 
 well as to M. Lapierire and M. Trefoil, who, in order that they 
 might enjoy this luxury, had retreated within the shelter of 
 the awning. Meredith threw himself upon the carpet, just 
 outside the entrance and nearly opposite to Havilah, who 
 was at the outermost extremity of one angle of the primitive 
 dwelling. Both were in such a position that their faces
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 347 
 
 were illuminated by the fire-light. Abdoul, in a place of 
 honor just beside his father, was seated with his back to the 
 flame, and his countenance was in deep shadow. 
 
 The sheik had still one entertainment in reserve for his 
 visitors, and he now made haste to announce it. 
 
 " men of Lebanon ! and thou, most excellent Frank ! " 
 said he, at the same time endeavoring by an authoritative 
 gesture to silence the hum of guttural voices about him, that 
 he might make his little oration intelligible, "ye have 
 heard our tales of war and foray, ye have seen our most 
 nobly descended mares, ye have witnessed the skill and 
 horsemanship of our young men. Know, then, that our 
 tribe has still one more excellence to boast. The sons of 
 Kahtan have ever been skilled in song ; we have among us 
 a Bedouin of pure blood, whose mouth drops pearls. Come 
 forth, then, poet, rival of Antar, and recite a song in honor 
 of our noble and well-beloved guests." 
 
 Thus summoned, a young Arab of handsome features and 
 imaginative expression of countenance emerged from the 
 swarthy ring, drew a rubahah, or one-stringed guitar, from 
 beneath his gracefully falling abayah, and, seating himself 
 in the midst of his listeners, commenced the prelude to his 
 ballad. 
 
 The instrument afforded but little variety, and the musi 
 cian's execution was rude ; still the positive, monotonous, 
 wiry sounds which he extracted from the single string were 
 not without melodious effect, and were a fitting preparation 
 for the singular chant which ensued. 
 
 The bard being a species of improvvisatore, and his verse 
 impromptu, his audience were wholly unprepared for the 
 following rhapsody, which was accompanied by various ex 
 pressive gestures, addressed to him who was the subject of 
 the song.
 
 348 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " I have seen the son of the West, the man of the strong limb and 
 generous heart. 
 
 " He has come from the distant isles of the sea, and the children of 
 the Orient welcome him as the ' Father of good fortune.' 
 
 " Wherefore comest thou hither, O son of the fair-haired ? 
 Why lingerest thou on the mountain and in the desert ? 
 A soft breath from afar hath lured thee hither. 
 Two dove-like eyes are the double spell that binds thee. 
 " Thy heart is as tender as it is radiant. Thou art strong for love 
 as for war. 
 
 " Like a lion wounded by a lance is the strong heart which love 
 hath pierced. 
 
 " Torment thyself not, O strong heart ! There is a cure for thy 
 wound. 
 
 " Allah send thee healing, 
 
 Send peace, Allah ! to the son of the stranger : 
 Thy faithful children invoke thee to his aid." 
 
 The musician prolonged the last note of his song until 
 the circle around him, who understood the hint, caught 
 up the words of his invocation to Allah, and repeated them 
 in enthusiastic chorus, waving their hands above their 
 heads, and making the desert ring with their deep nasal 
 voices. 
 
 Meredith, who at the very commencement of the chant 
 had been manifestly annoyed by its personal character, put 
 a more severe constraint upon himself as it proceeded, 
 avoided meeting any one's eye, and took refuge in feigning 
 an imperfect comprehension of the meaning and intention 
 of the song. But even this secret embarrassment was soon 
 lost in sympathy for the still greater confusion and distress 
 of her to whom the succeeding stanzas were addressed ; for 
 as soon as silence ensued, the poet turned towards Havilah, 
 and sung thus : 
 
 " Take pity, O fair one, on him who thirsteth for thy love. 
 Take pity, also, on thyself.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 349 
 
 " Thy beautiful eyes are cast down, O Lebanon maid ! lest their 
 stolen glances should betray thee ; but the poet who sings of love can 
 read the signs of its torment. 
 
 " He sees how, at the voice of the Frank, thy breast flutters like the 
 breast of the dove who hears afar off the voice of her mate. Silence 
 not the yearning within thee. 
 
 " Then shall your mutual tortures cease. 
 Then shall ye both be blest. 
 Then will the children of the desert rejoice 
 In the joy of the fair youth and the dark-haired maid." 
 
 Once more the self-satisfied poet dwelt on the last sylla 
 ble. Once more the susceptible crowd gathered voice for a 
 rapturous chorus. But they were interrupted. A fierce 
 cry, like that of some wild beast, a frantic bound, and 
 the rubahah was snatched from the hand of the startled 
 bard, its solitary string was snapped in twain, the instru 
 ment itself dashed in pieces on the ground, and Abdoul, 
 wrapping his cloak over his face, strode beyond the boun 
 daries of the circle, and disappeared in the darkness. 
 
 A fearful hubbub succeeded. The excitable Bedouins 
 instantly sprung to their feet, grasped their weapons, and 
 glared in the direction the youth had taken. Sheik Zana- 
 deen, incensed and mortified at so manifest a breach of de 
 corum on the part of his son, made haste to apologize to his 
 guests, his clouded and anxious brow at the same time indi 
 cating no slight degree of parental anxiety. The circle of 
 Arabs drew off in groups, and stood at a distance gesticu 
 lating and chattering, their fierce faces and attitudes looking 
 fiercer in the firelight, and indicating their contempt and 
 indignation at the discourteous and inhospitable behavior 
 of the young chief. 
 
 Meredith received the sheik's apology in dignified silence. 
 He knew the impetuous character of the people with whom 
 he had to deal, and felt that it became him to manifest a
 
 350 * EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 certain degree of displeasure at Abdoul's conduct, if he 
 would keep alive that respect which is the traveller's safe 
 guard. 
 
 Havilah also participated in this view of the case. Her 
 head, bowed in maidenly shame- during the progress of the 
 song, had been suddenly buried in her hands as she wit 
 nessed the wrath of Abdoul, and her whole frame had trem 
 bled with agitation. With proud composure, however, she 
 now rose, placed her arm in that of M. Lapierre, made a 
 respectful salutation to Zanadeen, and under the old pastor's 
 protection withdrew to her tent. 
 
 It naturally fell to M. Trefoil to conciliate all parties. 
 This was the kind-hearted man's natural province, and he 
 but acted out his impulses in playing the part of a pacifica 
 tor, professing himself confident of the sheik's friendship, 
 and assuring him of Meredith's disposition to overlook any 
 personal slight. 
 
 As Meredith's severity was but a pretence of anger, as 
 he was in reality far more vexed with the indiscreet poet 
 who had put Havilah to the blush, than with the miscreant 
 youth who had interrupted the song, the humbled sheik had 
 no difficulty in appeasing his English guest, and mutual ex 
 pressions of good-will were at once exchanged. 
 
 But it was neither politic nor possible to revive the social 
 character of the occasion ; the mortified Bedouins made no 
 attempt to reunite in conversational circles, and at a com 
 paratively early hour the camp was silent, and its dwellers 
 scattered to their respective tents.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 351 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE watch-fires burned lower and lower, then smoul 
 dered and went out The moon was far on the wane, and 
 had not yet risen. Stars lit up the sky, but not the desert. 
 Havilah, a pale watcher in the harem-tent, shuddered at 
 the gathering darkness, which seemed to her a curtain let 
 down before the final act of a tragedy. Little Geita was 
 sound asleep. The snoring of the old woman attested that 
 she too was oblivious of yesterday and unconscious of 
 to-morrow. Only Havilah remembered the one, and longed 
 for the other. 
 
 She had looped up one corner of the tent-hanging, and sat 
 where she could command a rear view of the whole semi 
 circular encampment. There was one among the black 
 tents on which she had kept her eye fixed so long as there 
 was the faintest glimmering of light, and now her ear was 
 strained in the same direction. Thus she sat for hours. 
 The time seemed long, but she felt no weariness, and no 
 wish to sleep. 
 
 At length a faint light illumined the east, and a narrow 
 strip of moon put forth its slender horn. It was not the day- 
 dawn, only a cold, early-morning moon ; yet Havilah hailed 
 it as affording a faint security and a certain promise. It 
 threw a dim light over the scene. In three hours more it 
 would be sunrise, and she breathed freer. 
 
 Just then, when her eye was familiarizing itself with the
 
 352 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 surrounding objects as they gradually emerged from the 
 darkness, she caught sight of something which seemed to 
 steel her vision. It was not a tent, a camel, or a goat, for it 
 moved along the surface of the ground spirally, like a ser 
 pent. It was what Havilah had been looking and listening 
 for all night, and calmly, like one prepared, she arose and 
 followed it. 
 
 It crept in and out among the goafs-hair dwellings, 
 paused, lifted up its head, looked around, and hesitated, then 
 kept on its way ; often, however, pursuing an uncertain 
 course, sometimes retracing its steps. Its convolutions were 
 rapid, but not more so than those of its pursuer, who, gliding 
 round the tents like a shadow, screened herself from view, 
 yet never once lost sight of her object. 
 
 At length, by an oblique approach, the latter gained its 
 destination, outside a tent in no way distinguishable from 
 the others save to a practised eye. The creature a 
 human creature, for such it was now took a sly observa 
 tion in every direction, laid his ear to the ground and lis 
 tened attentively, then lifted a strip of goat's-hair on the 
 eastern side and entered the desert lodging. The tent was 
 small, boasted no furniture save a couch of Damascus mats, 
 and had but a single occupant, the Englishman. Perplexed 
 by the previous day's experiences, Meredith had sat cogi 
 tating them until midnight, then, overcome by the multiplied 
 fatigues they had involved, he had wrapped himself in a 
 mantle of Scotch tweed, and laid down upon his pallet, 
 where he slept as soundly as a tired school-boy. As inno 
 cently too, for as the moon, just above the eastern horizon, 
 cast its rays directly through the aperture, it revealed a 
 noble head, pillowed, child-like, on one arm, the hair 
 thrown back so as to display the fulness of the broad 
 white brow, and every line of the frank countenance re-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 353 
 
 futing the thought that this man could cherish malice or 
 possess an enemy. 
 
 And yet over his unprotected breast leaned one with a 
 savage face, a sharpened dagger, and a soul thirsting for 
 blood. 
 
 There seemed to be but a breath between the sleeper and 
 the grave, for there was no mercy in the face of the assassin ; 
 but at the very moment when the thin muscular arm was 
 lifted for the stroke, and the dagger was pointed at the vic 
 tim's heart, another arm was resolutely lifted, and another 
 hand grasped the hilt of the weapon. The would-be murderer 
 saw the shadow that interfered between him and his pur 
 pose, before he felt the touch of the mastering hand. He 
 turned, recoiled, and became deadly pale ; his lips, that had 
 been compressed in vengeance, suddenly parted in horror ; 
 his arm dropped powerless. Havilah held the dagger aloft ; 
 Abdoul stood before her disarmed and paralyzed. 
 
 She waved the shining weapon towards the outside of the 
 tent, and motioned to the youth to follow her. She did not 
 speak, she did not even touch him ; she simply raised her 
 wand of steel, and, with his eye fixed on the blade, the boy 
 obeyed, as the needle obeys the magnet. She walked erect 
 with unhesitating pace, he dragged his limbs unwillingly 
 along, like a criminal under arrest ; but he was spell-bound, 
 and attempted no resistance. She did not pause until she 
 had gained an open space at some distance from the en 
 campment, then she stopped short and faced him. 
 
 " Playing the night-murderer in thy father's tents, Ab 
 doul ? " exclaimed she, in a tone of bitter scorn. " Has my 
 brother become a beast ? " 
 
 The sound of her voice broke the spell by which his fury 
 had been chained ; her taunting question well-nigh mad 
 dened him into the thing she likened him to ; for, without 
 
 w
 
 354 EL FUKEIDIS. 
 
 warning, he started from his cringing posture, and with a 
 panther-like bound strove to wrest his dagger from her 
 hand. 
 
 Had Havilah suddenly gained in height ? or was it merely 
 the majesty of her presence, as she stood with the khangar 
 uplifted above her head, which overawed the boy, and so 
 placed the prize above his reach? However it might be, 
 his attempt failed, and, with his eye fixed hopelessly upon 
 the weapon, he suffered his hand to drop heavily at his side, 
 while his whole form relapsed into insignificance. 
 
 " I shall not trust thee with it," said Havilah, proudly ; 
 "thou art not fit to handle steel." 
 
 The youth gnashed his long white teeth, and glared upon 
 her like a tiger. But she continued fearlessly : " Was it 
 for this, false boy, that thou didst decoy us to the tents of 
 Zanadeen? Is thy boasted desert but a trap for the stran 
 ger, and does thy deceitful tongue flatter only to betray ? " 
 
 Abdoul, still more exasperated at her words, answered 
 only by making a second plunge at the dagger, which this 
 time he almost clutched. But with a forbidding gesture 
 she waved him off, and held him fixed by the power of her 
 eye, while she said : " Stand back ! strive not with me, but 
 thank Heaven, who sent me to save thee from shedding 
 the blood of a noble and innocent man." 
 
 " I hate him ! I spit on him with contempt ! " muttered 
 Abdoul between his teeth. 
 
 " Thou hatest him without a cause," said Havilah, " and 
 thy contempt has recoiled upon thine own head. The Eng 
 lishman is as brave as thou art cowardly, as true as thou art 
 false, as generous as thou art mean." 
 
 " He has crossed my path ! he has trodden me under his 
 heel ! The curse of Allah be upon him ! " said Abdoul, 
 bitterly.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 355 
 
 " His path is a straight one," responded Havilah. "What 
 wonder if it crosses the crooked ways of thy deceit. But 
 tell me not that he has crushed thee under foot. He has a 
 heart which would forbid him to trample even on a worm." 
 
 "The track of the desert caravan is not more straight 
 than was the course of Abdoul before the stranger came 
 hither to thwart him," said the youth ; " but the feeble has 
 been pushed aside to make way for the strong, and the way 
 farer that has been oppressed by the enemy has become in 
 his turn a robber and a spy." 
 
 " Thou speakest as if the Englishman had wronged thee, 
 Abdoul," said Havilah. " Thou art deceived. "What could 
 he need that was thine ? " 
 
 " "What could he need ? Thou mayst well ask that, Havi 
 lah," exclaimed Abdoul, with intense passion. "He came 
 from the land of wealth and freedom, and fair-haired houris, 
 the daughters of his race. He had gold with which to 
 adorn his home, and a face and tongue made to win woman's 
 love. Why need he come hither to buy up the hearts of 
 my tribe, and sit in my green oasis, and drink from the 
 fountain of my hopes, and pluck the solitary flower that 
 grew thereby ? " 
 
 "He has not defrauded thee thus, he does not merit 
 thine ill-will," said Havilah, with a positiveness of assertion 
 which was nevertheless combined with a kindly tone, for 
 she comprehended and pitied the mad jealousy of Abdoul. 
 
 " Dost thou tell me," interrogated Abdoul, fiercely, " that 
 he who steals my horse or my camel is a thief, and he who 
 steals the light of mine eyes is blameless ? Shall the man 
 who has slain mine uncle in a skirmish be the object of 
 my blood-revenge, and shall he who has poured poison 
 into my cup not be called on to atone ? ' God hath not 
 given a man two hearts within him/ that one can be spared
 
 356 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 to the enemy. Let the Englishman beware ! The Arab 
 that has been bred on camel's flesh has fortified his soul in 
 hatred." * He seemed, as he spoke the last words, to grind 
 them out from between his teeth, and the vindictiveness that 
 shone in his eye was fearful. 
 
 " Poor boy, thou art frenzied with some imaginary wrong ! " 
 said Havilah, compassionately. 
 
 "The pale Frank has maddened me," said the youth, 
 clenching his fist. " I have eaten sorrow and drunk afflic 
 tion ever since his tall shadow darkened the land. He has 
 come with the power of sorcerers and Jinns, and all things 
 do his bidding. He is the father of a strong will ; women 
 -are his worshippers, and men his slaves. Thou fearedst the 
 Englishman once, but thou lovest him now, Havilah." 
 
 Thus far this exciting scene had proceeded without wit 
 ness or interruption ; but a third party now drew near the 
 spot, and other ears caught the succeeding- words of the 
 dialogue. Either the moonlight shining directly across his 
 face, or that mysterious consciousness which sometimes 
 visits one in sleep, had suddenly awakened Meredith. The 
 gaping aperture in his tent-covering instantly betrayed the 
 circumstance of some recent intrusion, the source of which 
 he made haste to ascertain ; and, accident guiding him in the 
 direction Havilah had taken, he soon detected her figure 
 and that of the boy. As it never occurred to his straight 
 forward and unsuspicious nature to doubt that his presence 
 would be welcome, whatever the dilemma, he advanced 
 unhesitatingly until suddenly checked by Abdoul's final 
 allusion to himself. Loath to take an unfair advantage, 
 (for he perceived at once that his approach had been un- 
 
 * Such is the vindictiveness of the camel's disposition, that it is pro 
 verbial among the Arabs that those fed on its flesh become similarly 
 unforgiving and revengeful.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 357 
 
 observed,) Meredith might have felt bound in honor to 
 withdraw ; but at the same instant he caught sight, through 
 the dim atmosphere, of the dagger which Havilah held 
 resolutely above her head, and beheld the savage fire in 
 Abdoul's eye, and the threatening gesture of his clenched 
 hand. He could not leave the dearest object to him on earth 
 exposed to such imminent danger, and he stood transfixed, 
 hesitating between his impulse to throttle the boy and his 
 reluctance to rush uncalled for upon the scene. 
 
 Havilah made no reply to the charge which Abdoul en 
 forced with such violence ; and, presuming upon her silence, 
 he continued, insolently : " Yes, I have watched thee as 
 they watch whose life hangs on a thread. Abdoul needs 
 no base rhymer a dog, and son of a dog to tell him 
 that the eyes which once helped to light the starry heavens 
 now borrow all their flame from the pale orbs of that son 
 of the West. Thy heart flutters, when he is beside thee, 
 as an eaglet flutters in the hand of the hunter; when he 
 speaks, thine ear is deaf to all other sounds. His image is 
 in thy soul, and is reflected on thy face. Thou lovest him, 
 Havilah ! " 
 
 Until he reached the last words, Abdoul spoke in a 
 vituperative tone, fiercely scanning her features meanwhile ; 
 but as his passionate vehemence reached its climax, he 
 uttered the words, " Thou lovest him, Havilah ! " close to 
 her ear, and with a prolonged hiss. 
 
 " And what if I do love him ? " exclaimed Havilah, indig 
 nantly repulsing the boy, whose audacity offended, though it 
 failed to alarm her. " Is that a matter for scoffing and for 
 scorn ? I tell thee, Abdoul, to love worthily and well is to 
 grow into the likeness of angels. One heart possessed by a 
 holy love has the strength, the courage, and the faith of two. 
 Be ashamed of hatred, but for love thank God."
 
 358 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 " Praise be to Allah for his good gifts ! " said the boy, with 
 a touch of reverence which contrasted strangely with the 
 tone of his preceding language. " But love " and he here 
 resumed his accent of contradiction and of wrath " love is 
 a blast of the evil spirit, it is the very simoom's breath. It 
 consumes like a pestilence, it scorches like a fire, it drinks 
 up the life-blood, and reduces the heart to ashes." 
 
 " Hush, Abdoul ! " said Havilah, with imperious and 
 reproving gesture. " Thou profanest a sacred word, and 
 libellest the thing which thou knowest not. That which 
 thou hast described is what love is not. Listen, now, while 
 I tell thee what love is. It is a power within the soul which 
 links it to all things good. It is the breath of Heaven. It 
 is virtue's native air. It lifts the heart into the presence of 
 its Maker. It expands it until it embraces all the earth. 
 To love God is to do his will. To love man, who is made 
 in the image of God, is to see in him a likeness to the 
 Father. He who is most like God, claims largest love. To 
 love such a one is to trust in his truth, to cherish his honor, 
 to seek his glory, to serve him with joy, to blossom in his 
 smile as the flower blossoms in the sun, forgetful of self 
 and content to draw its light from him." 
 
 She threw back her head, as if triumphing in the very 
 meekness of the love which she proudly professed. Abdoul 
 gazed up at her, as if she had been a distant star which he 
 was studying. 
 
 " Experience is thy teacher, Havilah ! " he exclaimed, 
 accusingly. Then, clasping his hands together, as if in final 
 appeal, he ejaculated with frantic eagerness, " Thou lovest ? 
 thou lovest him ? " 
 
 " And if I do," said Havilah, in the same royal and de 
 fiant tone in which she had previously spoken, " what is that 
 to thee ? " She placed her hand lightly upon his shoulder
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 359 
 
 as she spoke, partly to give impressiveness to her words, 
 partly to repel his proximity, for his scrutinizing face was 
 close to her. Apparently her touch overcame him, for he 
 sunk beneath it as if it had been a leaden weight, and, drop 
 ping on his knees, with his hands still clasped, he gazed in 
 her face with excitement, yet with awe. 
 
 " Canst thou comprehend a soul like his ? " she continued, 
 " or sound the depths of his kingly heart ? Can one who is 
 torn by selfish passions believe in a love which can outlive 
 coldness, disappointment, and scorn, which can endure 
 rejection and banishment, which, when earth is dark and 
 hope gone out, can find its solace in the love of the Most 
 High, and, drawing priceless treasures from the Infinite, 
 return to pour them all out in the service of her from whom 
 he neither asks nor hopes a return ? Canst thou, who 
 creepest in the dead of night to refresh thy shrivelled heart 
 in the blood of a rival, believe in a generosity which is 
 boundless, a faith that suspicion cannot taint, a devotion as 
 disinterested as the sun? When thou canst believe this, 
 Abdoul, then wilt thou know that the Englishman has loved 
 with a love of which Havilah is not worthy." 
 
 As Havilah finished speaking, the Arab suffered his 
 clasped hands to drop upon the earth, his face sunk upon 
 his hands, and the simple words which once more burst 
 from his lips, " Thou lovest him ! " were no longer a taunt, 
 but a wail. 
 
 "And if I do," said Havilah, as she stood like a reprov 
 ing seraph looking down upon the prostrate form of the 
 boy, " thou shouldst thank me for a love which has saved 
 thee from the foulest crime in an Arab, no less than a Chris 
 tian calendar. Was it not enough to repay the English 
 man's indulgence with falsehood, and his kindness with hate, 
 but thou must forfeit the courage of a chieftain and the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 honor of a host, to lurk round the door of thy guest's tent 
 like a serpent, and pounce upon him like a wolf? What, 
 thinkest thou, would be the verdict of thy tribe, were it 
 known that the son of Zanadeen, the pride of Arab chiv 
 alry, had violated the laws of hospitality, had betrayed the 
 sacred trust, and had attempted the life of the stranger 
 whom Bedouin honor was sworn to protect. Thou knowest 
 that thine own father and brother would disown thee, and 
 that, wert thou famishing in the wilderness, there is not 
 one among all thy race who would not spurn thee from 
 his father's tent." 
 
 Abdoul sunk lower and lower at her feet. He seemed 
 literally to writhe on the ground as she thus charged home 
 to him his crime. He answered only by a groan. 
 
 " Abdoul," said she, bending over him now, and speaking 
 in a pitying tone, for his groan of anguish had roused her com 
 passion. " I am grieved for thee, Abdoul, my brother. I will 
 not doubt, even now, that thy purposes were fair when thou 
 didst invite us hither. If thou hast betrayed thy guest, it is 
 because thine own soul did first betray thee. Thou art not 
 thyself. Some evil spirit has taken possession of thee, my 
 poor boy." 
 
 She paused, but there was no response. Utterly subdued 
 and powerless, the youth lay quite still, and she continued, 
 in a pleading and trembling voice : " O Abdoul ! drive out 
 the enemy that wars against thy better self. Turn all thine 
 anger and thy wrath against the besetting fiend. For my 
 sake, for the sake of Havilah, once thy playmate and still 
 thy friend, for the sake of the happy and innocent days 
 which thou hast passed in El Fureidis, abjure thy wicked 
 manhood, and be a harmless boy again. I beseech thee as 
 a sister, Abdoul. I entreat thee by the memory of her who 
 cherished thee in thy misfortunes, healed thy wounds, com-
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 361 
 
 forted thy bruised spirit, and taught thee the simple lessons 
 of our Christian faith, by the memory of one who was dear 
 to thee, my mother, our mother, lanthe ! " 
 
 At the closing word of her adjuration Havilah's voice 
 faltered ; tears were streaming down her face, and her voice 
 became choked and husky. 
 
 For a moment it seemed as if she had been addressing a 
 lifeless clod, Abdoul lay so still and torpid beneath her gaze ; 
 then suddenly a low, gurgling sob escaped him ; he dragged 
 himself a step nearer to Havilah, and, clasping his thin 
 hands around her feet, kissed them passionately. 
 
 As he flung himself forward for this servile but convul 
 sive embrace, Meredith, alarmed at the movement, advanced 
 incautiously to Havilah's protection. She turned her head 
 slightly, saw him, but, fearless of danger, signed to him to 
 keep silence, and herself, standing rigid and erect, patiently 
 awaited the end. One long, fervent clasp, one storm of de 
 vouring kisses pressed rapturously upon the submissive feet, 
 and the boy had covered his face with his kefiyeh, had 
 sprung from his grovelling posture, had bounded like an 
 arrow from the bow across the few yards of space that 
 intervened between him and the Khadhere, that intelli 
 gently loitered hard by, had mounted, and was far away 
 on the desert. 
 
 As the little babe whose courage is spent stretches 
 out its hand for help, Havilah stretched out hers to Mer 
 edith. He clasped it in his, and with strained eyes and 
 beating hearts together they watched the boy. The moon 
 now cast a long pillar of light across the plain, and illu- 
 nated the horseman's course. The journey was a flight, 
 the Khadhere a winged bird. It seemed but a moment 
 ere the white mare had dwindled in the distance to the 
 size of a sea-gull, then to that of a swallow, a moment 
 16
 
 362 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 more and the creature was but a speck against the horizon, 
 a breath, a fluttering of the eyelid, and the Khadhere 
 and her master had vanished in the boundless void. 
 
 The eyes that had followed them now rested on vacancy ; 
 the pair of watchers stood alone on the desert waste, which 
 seemed like an inverted world, whence all things save them 
 selves were swept clean away. " Havilah ! " was the first 
 word that broke the deep silence. 
 
 The voice vibrated through all space. Earth, sky, and 
 air seemed to have spoken her name. She listened as one 
 listens to a far-off sound, kept her eye fixed on the distant 
 horizon, trembled, but made no answer. 
 
 There was a long pause. Then the voice was heard 
 again, solemnly as before : " Havilah, is yonder boy mad, 
 or did he speak the truth ? " 
 
 Again it was as if the great voice of Nature spoke, de 
 manding a reply, and Havilah answered slowly and with 
 reverence, as if testifying to Heaven, " He spoke truth." 
 
 " And you love me, Havilah ? " 
 
 This tune the voice was low and tremulous, a whisper 
 from the human heart that was beating close beside her. 
 She turned as suddenly as if now she first realized the pres 
 ence of Meredith, dropped Abdoul's dagger from one hand, 
 drew the other from the Englishman's grasp, clasped both 
 together, and, looking up in his face as trustingly as if it 
 had been the face of an angel, exclaimed, " I do ! " 
 
 She was not prepared for the effect of her abrupt con 
 fession. He staggered back as if he had received a blow, 
 bowed his head upon his hands, and his broad chest heaved 
 spasmodically. Had he been so ignorant, so blinded, so in 
 credulous to the last, that the truth should rush upon him 
 now with such stunning power ? Was it possible that this 
 strong, self-sustained man, who had so far as she knew
 
 EL FUEEIDIS. 363 
 
 borne misfortune, loss, and despair with unshaken fortitude, 
 could be unmanned by a word and a look ? 
 
 Havilah was frightened. She had seen her excitable 
 Arab lover maddened by despair ; that was natural. She 
 could understand while she pitied the boy. But she had not 
 yet sounded the depths of this great Anglo-Saxon heart. 
 She had not yet learned that they who can suffer longest 
 and best have within them the well-springs of intensest joy,- 
 a joy the first outgushing of which can shake to its 
 foundations the frame that has withstood a hurricane of 
 sorrows. 
 
 She was awed, but her awe was innocent and childlike, 
 and acted itself out accordingly. She came close to him, 
 laid her hand soothingly on his arm, stood still a moment, 
 then gently strove to uncover his face, that she might read 
 the secret of his agitation in his eyes. 
 
 Her touch calmed him, or rather it concentrated his fever 
 of excitement, which ceased to evince itself outwardly, 
 though the fire burned within. Lifting his head, and stand 
 ing erect in his imposing height, he caught both her hands 
 in his ; but by the power of a determined will he held her at 
 arm's length while he warned her thus : " Havilah, think 
 well ! you know not what you say, you know not the 
 value of the gift you bestow. Recall it before it is too late." 
 
 " But I love you," she murmured in an apologetic tone. 
 
 " Beware, lest I take advantage of your words ! " he ex 
 claimed, with the forced sternness of an advocate striving 
 against himself. "I am a repentant and a humbled man. 
 Do not challenge my presumption and pride. They sleep 
 now, but they may wake again. I see myself as I am, a 
 beggar in all that could give me a claim to your love ; but 
 tempt me not, Havilah. The starving will sometimes steal. 
 What wonder then if they snatch the treasure thrown in their
 
 364 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 path. Take it back then, dear child ; retract your thought 
 less words while yet you may." 
 
 " I cannot retract," said Havilah, with an ineffable smile, 
 " for I love you." 
 
 " You pity, you would befriend, but you do not love me, 
 Havilah," persisted Meredith, still pleading valiantly, as he 
 believed in her behalf, but drawing her nearer to him as he 
 spoke. " Blessed girl ! you have walked in the light from 
 your childhood. I have but just shaken the dust from my 
 eyes and fought my way out of darkness. What am I, that 
 I should dream of mating with a star ? " 
 
 " Does God's sunlight shine less brightly on the flower just 
 bursting from the sod, than on the aloe of a hundred years' 
 growth ? Does he not shed instant glory on the head of 
 every child who seeks his face ? " asked Havilah, looking up 
 at Meredith as if she saw the reflection of God's love in him. 
 
 Her countenance, on which the moonlight shone full, was 
 so radiantly beautiful, so sweetly confiding, that Meredith 
 could scarcely resist the temptation to snatch her to his 
 heart and call her his, as she had almost challenged him 
 to do. But perhaps the very perfection of her loveliness 
 was a reproach to him in his utter self-abasement, for with 
 iron firmness he still held her aloof while he said : " Havi 
 lah, my beautiful one ! my morning star ! I have wor 
 shipped you as a saint, shall I dare claim you as a wife ? 
 Men call me cold, Havilah," his heart while he spoke 
 was a burning volcano; "reserved, I know I am," 
 the deep places of his nature even now were breaking up. 
 " I have come from the land of clouds and fog. I am the 
 
 O 
 
 son of a rugged race. You are all warmth and blossom ; 
 you have been reared in a summer clime ; I tremble lest I 
 might cast a chill over your young life, or shadow it with a 
 cloud. Precious child, are you not afraid ? "
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 365 
 
 It was well she was not afraid, for her chance of escape 
 was well-nigh gone. He had wreathed his arms tightly 
 around her. She was already netted in his embrace. 
 
 " You have been to me as the shadow of a great rock in 
 a weary land," she said. " I ask no other rest or shelter," 
 and she suffered her head to drop upon his shoulder. 
 
 He pressed her convulsively to him for an instant, ex 
 claiming, " O, what have I done to be so blest above other 
 men ? or rather," he added, as abruptly releasing her, " is it 
 not a sin for me, who have left so much undone, to reap a 
 reward so far beyond my deserts ? " 
 
 " They deserve most who claim least," said Havilah. 
 " Your cup, then, should be full. If I had more to offer, 
 it should be yours ; but I gave you long ago all I had to 
 give, my heart." 
 
 Her head drooped upon her bosom as she spoke. Not 
 until she had thus filled up the measure of her self-surrender 
 did she startle at her own temerity ; but now she cast down 
 her eyes, and trembled like a timid dove. 
 
 " Havilah ! " cried Meredith, in the desperate tone of one 
 whose long-controlled emotions are just breaking from their 
 last anchor, " look at me ! " and taking her head between 
 his hands, he lifted her blushing face to his, and gazed into 
 her brimming eyes. "Tell me, shall a man dare accept 
 that at the hand of Heaven which he has not dared ask for 
 even in his prayer?" 
 
 " Love is a free gift," said Havilah. " Take it or not, 
 it is love still. O take it, or let me go ! " and, looking 
 wildly around her, she struggled to escape her bonds. 
 
 " Let you go, my darling ? Never ! " exclaimed Mere 
 dith. " If I have resisted the gift, it was only to make 
 it truly mine, my joy, my life, my paradise ! " 
 
 He had already clasped her to his breast. As he bent
 
 366 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 over her she twined her arms about his neck ; and, as he 
 snatched her to the height of his embrace, she fancied her 
 self lifted from off the earth and enthroned in some upper 
 realm of joy ; and he, as if he had clasped a seraph, felt 
 his whole being etherealized. His old world lay around 
 him a desert ; his new world was in his arms. 
 
 They were alone in endless space ; but they had no 
 sense of isolation. The past was but the path which had 
 led them hither ; the future, like the expanse amid which 
 they stood, was boundless. The silence was the voiceless 
 harmony of a great joy. It was as if both had encountered 
 in the wilderness the angel of their earthly heaven ; had 
 held a trembling parley at the gate, then together had en 
 tered in. 
 
 Intense rapture is a pain. Havilah's found vent in a 
 flood of tears ; but long after these were dry, she could not 
 only feel, but in the deep silence she could hear, Meredith's 
 heart throbbing against hers like a heavy drum : " Hush, 
 hush ! " she whispered softly to the beating heart. 
 
 " Do not hush it," he said. "It has been stifled long 
 enough ; let it beat on now. Such joy as mine has heart 
 throbs, but no words." 
 
 He was the first, however, to break the silence that suc 
 ceeded. " Whence came this happiness ? " was the question 
 of a heart unused to anything but pain ; and the query 
 found vent in the whisper, " How long have you loved me ? " 
 
 " When your soul went forth to meet the Infinite, mine 
 went forth to meet you," said Havilah. " The spirit that 
 moved the one wrought upon the other. Ever since you 
 caught the illumination of Heaven, I have yearned to bask 
 in your light." 
 
 " My light is but a faint glimmer, Havilah. You must 
 lead me into the perfect day."
 
 EL FUKEIDIS. 367 
 
 " The oak plants its root deep in the forest-shade," said 
 Havilah, " but the clinging vine that twines round its stem 
 has faith that thus it shall creep upward to the light: so 
 only can the feeble climb." 
 
 " We will climb together, my blessed one. Life's toil 
 will be easy in such sweet company. And how long will 
 you love me, Havilah ? " 
 
 " Lov has nothing to do with time," said Havilah, 
 " love is immortal." 
 
 " bless you for that word ! You are mine, then, as I am 
 yours, for all eternity. The time has been when I would 
 have been satisfied with less, when my heart would have 
 leaped to hear you say, 'I love you this day, this hour.' 
 But then I loved as men love, who die ; not, as now, with 
 the love of souls, which live forever." 
 
 " It is morning, my love," whispered Havilah ; " see the 
 rosy light streaks the east." 
 
 " It is morning indeed," responded Meredith, a sunlight 
 glow lighting up his beatified features, "morning in the 
 desert, and you, Havilah, are the dawn. My heart was a 
 great deep, and darkness was on the face of it, but your 
 voice has broken up the void ; life was a desert waste, but a 
 morning star has arisen to cheer the traveller on his way." 
 
 " We have groped through a night of darkness and doubt 
 to find each other at last," said Havilah, " but with both of 
 us it is daylight now." 
 
 " To Him who first said, ' Let there be light, and there 
 was light,' to Him be the praise and the glory," said 
 Meredith. 
 
 And Havilah said, " Amen ! "
 
 368 
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ABDOUL returned no more to the encampment. The boy 
 had forfeited his own honor, but they whom he had wronged 
 were true, and no hint of his midnight treachery and assault 
 ever fell from the lips of Meredith or Havilah. The chiv 
 alrous old sheik, however, was sufficiently mortified at the 
 escapade of the previous evening, and his son's non-appear 
 ance ; and when his guests, in accordance with their previous 
 intention, urged an early departure, he could only press his 
 hand on his heart, and with a dejected air profess himself 
 their grateful and already too much honored servant. Even 
 to the last moment his spirits continued sadly depressed ; 
 the kind and cordial farewell of his new friends, so far from 
 soothing, served only to aggravate his shame as a father, 
 and his sensitiveness as a host ; and when the caravan 
 finally rode off, escorted by Mahmoud, his brother's son, 
 Zanadeen blessed them with uplifted hands, and eyes that 
 were streaming with tears. 
 
 A day on the desert, a night passed in the dwelling of the 
 Governor of Jerud, a second day's diligent journeying under 
 the protection of a fresh escort, furnished by the Aga, and 
 our travellers reached Baalbec. 
 
 No striking adventure marked or interrupted their pro 
 gress. To the lovers only was the journey memorable. 
 But they, alone with their secret joy, travelling on, amid 
 unbroken silence, under the great " eye of Heaven," could
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 369 
 
 revel in one glad thought, could indulge at will in one sweet 
 absorption. Rare privilege, in this world of ours, where 
 events trample upon each other in quick succession, and 
 busy life is forever at war with meditation ! 
 
 The illimitable desert, so vast, so unobtrusive, and so still, 
 was symbolic of that one, all-embracing idea, which filled 
 the souls of Meredith and Havilah. The world seemed to 
 have stepped aside, only Heaven looked smiling on, while 
 her happy children basked in the sunshine. 
 
 Sweet, unbroken, and exultant was the calm of those 
 desert days. Grand, heroic, and full of noble purpose were 
 the days that succeeded. Baalbec, with its giant record of 
 the past, broke up the pensive charm in which the great 
 solitude had wrapped the heart; but the outward and the 
 real were not less welcome, because the inward and the 
 ideal had had their day. Standing on the massive temple 
 platform, beneath the shadow of the six colossal pillars, 
 Havilah and Meredith first pledged themselves to each other 
 for the great work of life. In the midst of those magnifi 
 cent ruins, which indicate at once man's power and insig 
 nificance, they joined hands in the cause of humanity and 
 the active service of God, and, with the inspiration and 
 energy of united hearts, resolved that whatsoever their 
 hands might find to do, they would do it with their might. 
 
 Great structures, whether triumphing in perfection or 
 reflecting fallen glory, fire the imagination and stir the soul 
 to generous deeds. But a holier place than ancient Baalbec 
 sanctified and set the seal to the resolutions enkindled within 
 sight of the Temple of the Sun. 
 
 Beneath the ancient cedars of Lebanon, primeval mon- 
 
 archs of the primeval world, contemporaries of patriarchs 
 
 and prophets, in that holiest of nature's temples, to which 
 
 pilgrims of all nations come yearly to hold communion with 
 
 16* x
 
 370 
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 
 
 Him whose glory it shadows forth, the two hearts made one 
 in love, poured those hearts out in worship, dedicated their 
 love to the Source of all love, and felt their life hid with 
 Christ in God. 
 
 Here, too, they made others sharers in their joy. Here, 
 in the presence of those grand old witnesses which testify 
 to the truths of all ages, Havilah made a blushing recanta 
 tion of the resolve which nearly a year ago had disap 
 pointed the dearest hopes of her father. M. Trefoil, bh'nd 
 and obtuse to the last, was thunderstruck, incredulous, over 
 whelmed ; and when the light which shone in the eyes of 
 his daughter and Meredith, and the touch of their hands 
 mutually clasping his, convinced him of the truth which 
 otherwise he could not have believed, his agitation and 
 bewilderment were such, that Havilah trembled lest the 
 mind which a shock of sorrow had enfeebled should be 
 once more paralyzed by a sudden influx of joy. But her 
 fears were groundless. Such natures as M. Trefoil's assim 
 ilate with happiness and assume prosperity as easily as a 
 well-fitting garment. He soon smiled with calm compla 
 cency upon the new state of affairs, familiarized himself by 
 a sort of native instinct with the turn events had taken, and 
 though the startling character of the communication im 
 pressed him seriously for the time, the good man would 
 have his joke, and often maintained, in after years, rubbing 
 his hands complacently together, that his simple daughter 
 thought she had outwitted her old father, but that his pene 
 tration had never once been in fault, his mountain-girl 
 understood coquetry as well as any city belle, her indif 
 ference to that good fellow Meredith was a girl's affectation, 
 and he (M. Trefoil) had suspected it all the while. 
 
 M. Lapierre made no boast of superior discernment, but 
 his insight into human nature was as keen as it was silent
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 371 
 
 and unobtrusive. He was far from being surprised when 
 Meredith and Havilah came to crave his paternal bless 
 ing, and the serenity of his approving smile witnessed to 
 them both how truly he had read and interpreted their 
 hearts. 
 
 His benediction was in keeping with the time and the 
 scene. He laid a hand benignantly on the head of each, 
 while he said, " He is a worthy mate for you, my daughter. 
 He has been tried in the furnace of affliction, and has come 
 forth pure gold. Trust him with your whole heart, repose 
 undoubtingly in the rest of his love, for ' he dwelleth in the 
 secret place of the Most High, he shall abide in the shadow 
 of 'the Almighty.' " 
 
 Havilah turned her eyes confidingly upon her lover, and 
 the look was an answer. 
 
 " Be to her, my son, like the cedar of Lebanon to the 
 dove that hath built her nest in its shade. Uphold her, 
 protect her, shelter her from the storms of life." 
 
 And as the young man answered, "I will," his voice 
 was deep like the wind among the branches, and solemn as 
 a response at the altar. 
 
 There had been joy in El Fureidis. The voices of the 
 people had gone up in gladness and thanksgiving, the 
 valleys had rung with the nuptial shout and song, the moun 
 tains had echoed the peal, and the marriage-bells had made 
 music along the heights of Lebanon. The old friars had 
 descended once more from their convent, bearing simple 
 offerings in their hands, and fervent benedictions on' their 
 lips. Mustapha had come, laden with rich gifts, from Da 
 mascus. Maysunah had woven the bridal chaplet, and ac 
 companied the bride to the altar, and the same day which 
 saw Meredith and Havilah united in holy wedlock had wit-
 
 372 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 nessed the baptism of the Turk and his daughter at the 
 Christian font. 
 
 There had been sorrow in El Fureidls. There had been 
 partings and farewells. Lingering looks had been ex 
 changed, and last words spoken. The Damascene and his 
 daughter had turned their steps towards the rising sun, 
 while their friends had travelled westward. The simple 
 villagers had followed the wedding-train for miles over 
 mountain and through valley, proud of their English bene 
 factor, proud that El Fureidis had so amply repaid him for 
 his bounty, but vainly striving to repress the tears which 
 streamed down their bronzed cheeks as they watched him 
 depart, bearing away with him their Lebanon Rose. 
 
 But as in the villagers' joy at the marriage there had 
 been a foretaste of their pain in this farewell, so their pres 
 ent sorrow was not without its promise of future joy. As 
 they turned their steps homeward, they could solace their 
 hearts with the thought that El Fureidis would still be the 
 frequent summer home of Meredith and Havilah ; that M. 
 Trefoil, who was to accompany his daughter to England, 
 would return in the following spring ; that the villa would 
 then be repaired, the silk factory arise from its ruins, and 
 that meanwhile the liberality of the Englishman had in 
 sured themselves and their families from want. 
 
 It was a summer morning in Syria. The white walls of 
 Beyrout, standing out from their background of gardens 
 and groves, seemed to concentrate the sunlight, and reflect 
 its heat with redoubled power. The early hours of the day 
 were past, the hum of city activity had subsided; idlers 
 had retreated to the shelter of their roofs and gardens, and 
 only the laborious portion of the population exposed them 
 selves to the scorching sun. There was no breeze in the
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 373 
 
 bay. The vessels which lay at anchor there were wrapped 
 in soft yellow light, and sleeping motionless on the tide. 
 All things wore an attitude of rest and tranquil expectancy. 
 
 Conspicuous among the shipping in the harbor was a 
 little English brig, whose sharply-cut prow, fresh paint, and 
 neat rigging, as well as her determined position at the point 
 where she was certain to catch the first breeze, placed her 
 in strong contrast with the lazy feluccas and slovenly Greek 
 craft moored in her vicinity. The captain, a stout-built, 
 compact British seaman, was giving his final orders, the 
 neatly-dressed crew were bestowing the last professional 
 touch upon the vessel's gear, or were standing ready to let 
 out sail at the slightest provocation. In the cabin a group 
 of hearty friends were assembled round M. Trefoil. With 
 a glass of vino d'oro in his hand, and his ruddy face glow 
 ing with pleasure, the honest manufacturer was responding 
 to the healths and good wishes proffered him by half a 
 score of native consuls, foreign residents, Armenian bank 
 ers, and jovial Greek merchants. These men had been 
 M. Trefoil's Syrian contemporaries for many years. They 
 had flocked now, in the warmth of their hearts, to bid him 
 an affectionate farewell previous to the several months' ab 
 sence which he meditated ; and as he grasped their sym 
 pathetic hands, and received their cordial congratulations 
 upon the marriage of his daughter, it was easy to see that 
 the old man's satisfaction and pride had reached their 
 climax. 
 
 Seated amidships, M. Lapierre and Meredith were also 
 engaged in earnest conversation ; but their final dialogue 
 was of a more serious character than that of M. Trefoil 
 and his convivial friends. 
 
 The missionary had accompanied the western-bound trav 
 ellers to the sea-board ; but the period of their setting sail
 
 374 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 was to be the signal of his return to El Fureidis, where, in 
 addition to his pastoral duties, the secular interests of the 
 little community were, for the present, delegated to his 
 charge. The best means for securing the welfare of the 
 peasantry had already been concerted between him and 
 Meredith ; but there were last counsels to be interchanged, 
 last assurances on the part of M. Lapierre that ample pro 
 vision had been made for his flock, last promises on the part 
 of Meredith to furnish aid in any extremity. There was 
 paternal advice, also, to be bestowed, and filial gratitude to 
 be expressed ; and in the affectionate tenderness of the old 
 man's manner, and the responsive glow on the young man's 
 face, the emotions of a year seemed concentrated into one 
 parting moment. 
 
 Havilah sat alone upon the upper deck, where she was 
 protected from the sun by a canvas awning. Here, a few 
 moments before, she had held her little court, and responded 
 cordially to the kind wishes of her father's friends. But 
 the latter had gone simultaneously to drink a health below ; 
 M. Lapierre and Meredith had previously withdrawn for 
 an uninterrupted conference, and Havilah, left to her own 
 thoughts, had suffered her eyes and her mind to stray in the 
 direction of her mountain-home. 
 
 She was roused from her reverie by a slight plashing of 
 the water beneath the stern of the brig. The next instant 
 a thin, tawny hand clasped the rail close beside her, a 
 bound, a noiseless flutter of drapery, and a lithe figure had 
 flung itself over the vessel's side, and knelt motionless as a 
 stone at her feet. She sprung up, drew a quick breath, and 
 looked around her like a startled fawn seeking the means of 
 
 O 
 
 escape ; then, observing the still, submissive attitude of her 
 muffled visitor, she hesitated, scrutinized him an instant, and 
 said, with timorous, questioning accent, " Abdoul ? "
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 375 
 
 " Peace be with thee, lady, and fear me not," said Ab 
 doul, slowly uncovering his face, and fixing his eyes upon 
 her with mournful gravity. 
 
 She was awed by the solemnity of his address, and still 
 more by the rigid and melancholy composure of his features. 
 She stood attentive, and he continued : " When thon sawest 
 me last, I fled from thee with a fire in my heart ; but the 
 maddening flame of doubt has since been quenched in the 
 cold waters of certainty. Thou callest the Englishman 
 lord?" 
 
 " He is my husband," said Havilah. , 
 
 "Allah has willed it so, and it is well," responded the 
 youth, with a tone of one sternly submitting himself to fate. 
 " I have attained to one of ' the two comforts.' Suspense is 
 a torturing wound to the Arab, but if he be denied success, 
 he knows how to endure despair. I have only now to crave 
 pardon for the past, and in view of the future to bid thee a 
 final farewell." 
 
 " Thy pardon followed quick upon thine offence," said 
 Havilah, " and in years to come, my brother, if it please 
 Heaven, we shall meet again." 
 
 " Thy forgiveness is a balm to my soul," said Abdoul, 
 making a profound salutation ; " but, lady, we meet no more. 
 ' The Lord goeth between a man and his heart.' The Faith 
 ful One will not make his servant to bear what he has not 
 strength to bear. The earth is spacious, our paths lie apart, 
 and I may not look upon thy face again." 
 
 " Be it so," answered Havilah, " and I say not but thou 
 art wise. I shall still cherish thy memory, and pray for 
 thee, my brother." 
 
 " Thou art clothed with piety, and therefore thy prayers 
 will reach the throne," said Abdoul. " I am an unworthy 
 servant of the Prophet, but I will remember thee in the
 
 376 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 morning sacrifice ; for it is written in the sacred book, that 
 ' the prayer of daybreak is borne witness unto by the an- 
 
 gels/" 
 
 He here made a sudden movement, as if about to rise 
 and depart ; but Havilah checked him by a motion of her 
 hand, and he continued resting on one knee while she said, 
 " Stay yet a moment, Abdoul ; thou must not leave me 
 until I have spoken one more parting word, and restored 
 to thee that which is thine." 
 
 As she spoke, she took from a heap of shawls and light 
 luggage which lay beside her a roll of silken tissue, and, 
 commencing at one end, slowly unwound a rich and bril 
 liantly dyed scarf, disclosing as she did so, first the jewelled 
 hilt, and gradually the shining blade, of Abdoul's dagger. 
 
 The boy's features, inflexible until now, twitched with 
 nervous agitation, and an eager light gleamed in his eye, 
 as he caught sight of the weapon ; but a subdued and mor 
 tified expression stole over his features as he met the 
 glance of Havilah, and h'stened while she said : " This muf 
 fled roll was to have been my last charge to the good 
 father, and with it a message for thee. But thou art here 
 to receive both for thyself, which is far better. Take back 
 thy dagger, Abdoul, and let it be the seal of forgiveness 
 and friendship between me and thee. Use it as becomes 
 a servant of God and a chieftain's son. Defend the weak, 
 maintain the truth, protect the stranger. So shalt thou be 
 armed with self-respect, and merit the blessing and thanks 
 of Havilah." 
 
 Abdoul bowed low in acknowledgment of the offering 
 held out to him, received the dagger, which he hid hastily 
 in his bosom, and said solemnly, with his hand pressed upon 
 his heart : " By the morning when it appeareth, by the red 
 ness of the sky after sunset, by the night, and by the moon
 
 EL FUBEIDIS. 377 
 
 when she is at the full, I swear to do thy bidding. "When 
 the sun shall be folded up, and Avhen the stars shall fall, and 
 when the seas shall be suffered to join their waters, and 
 when the mountains shall be made to pass away, and when 
 the books shall be laid open, and when paradise shall be 
 brought near, every soul shall know what it hath wrought. 
 See, then, if Abdoul hath been faithful." 
 
 " I will trust and believe thee, Abdoul," said Havilah. 
 
 " Bless thee, lady," said the youth, " and farewell. May 
 Heaven's breezes give thee good voyage, and thy new home 
 be as fresh soil to the transplanted flower. Salute thy lord 
 for me, with a respectful salutation. Heaven grant him 
 long life, and give thee many years' rest in his love ; and 
 if the staff of his strength shall fail thee, may ' Allah shadow 
 thee with his shadow in that day when there shall be no 
 shade but his shadow.' " 
 
 As he finished speaking, he bent his head to the floor, 
 and without presuming to take Havilah's outstretched hand, 
 or even to touch the hem of her robes, he pressed his lips 
 reverentially upon that spot of the deck on which she had 
 stood an instant before, then with lightning-like velocity 
 swung himself over the side of the vessel, and disappeared. 
 
 The sudden plash in the water occasioned by his leap 
 excited a vague fear in Havilah, who, forgetting that he 
 had departed precisely as he came, uttered a quick excla 
 mation of alarm, which brought Meredith at once to her 
 side. As he joined her with an anxious inquiry, and be 
 fore she had time to reply, her apprehensions were set at 
 rest by the sight of a little skiff, which had started out from 
 beneath the stern of the vessel, and which, rowed by two 
 skilful oarsmen, was already making for a neighboring 
 promontory. 
 
 " Look there," she exclaimed, pointing to a figure crouched
 
 378 
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 
 
 in the bottom of the boat, " it is Abdoul. He has come 
 and gone like the vision of a dream, but it is well. He has 
 blessed me, and we have parted in peace." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " soliloquized Meredith, in a tone of tender 
 sympathy ; and as they watched the boat sweep round the 
 curve of the little promontory, Havilah wiped away a tear. 
 
 At the same moment their cheeks were favored by a fresh 
 breeze from Lebanon. Immediately there was a stir on 
 board the vessel. The master eagerly issued his orders, 
 the anchor was raised, sails hoisted, and preparations made 
 to take advantage of the favorable wind which had already 
 begun to ripple the surface of the bay. M. Trefoil's 
 friends embarked hastily on board the boat, which waited 
 to take them on shore. M. Lapierre, prompt as the youngest 
 among them, made his last blessing as concise as it was fer 
 vent, with a firm step passed over the vessel's side, and, his 
 head uncovered and his white hair streaming in the breeze, 
 took the place reserved for him in the midst of the friendly 
 throng. A moment more, and amid the waving of hands, 
 and reiterated farewells, and prayers of " God speed ! " the 
 vessel had put out to sea. 
 
 She flew over the waters like a bird. To the friendly 
 eyes which watched her from the shore, her white sails 
 soon dipped into the dim horizon, and long ere the sun went 
 down she was out of sight on the blue Mediterranean ; but, 
 standing beside each other on the deck, Meredith and Ha 
 vilah still cast lingering looks behind them. The white 
 walls of Beyrout had disappeared from their eyes, the 
 green gardens were no longer discernible against their 
 mountain background, the bays and promontories of the 
 Syrian coast had merged into a line of dull uniformity; 
 day was waning, and the sun was declining towards the west, 
 but its light still shone on sacred Lebanon.
 
 EL FUREIDIS. 379 
 
 Thus hope led the voyagers in the way they were going, 
 but memory cast a fond look behind. 
 
 " Land of beauty, land of promise, land of the morning, 
 farewell ! " said Meredith. " Thou hast given me thy best 
 treasure, thou hast fulfilled to me all thy promises, thou hast 
 kindled a day-star in my heart," and, as he drew his 
 young wife closer to his side, his face glowed with adoring 
 gratitude to the Giver of all good. 
 
 "The mountains have been my home," said Havilah; 
 "but I am content, my home is here;" and, leaning 
 trustingly upon her husband's shoulder, her soul kept com 
 pany with his in its soaring flight. 
 
 Thus the thoughts of both travelled upward. They 
 watched the purple light, as it crept up 'the hill-tops, and 
 rested awhile on the crest of Lebanon, and when the light 
 had faded into darkness, and day and night had mingled, 
 and the mountains had melted into the sky, the hearts of 
 the watchers were uplifted yet, for above them still was 
 Heaven and its stars. 
 
 THE END.
 
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