SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 BRENDLE 
 
 THE HOUSE OF ISLAM 
 
.SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 BY 
 
 MARMADUKE PICKTHALL 
 
 EIGHTH EDITION 
 
 METHUEN & CO. LTD. 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. 
 
 LONDON 
 

 1 
 
 6 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 
 TS*?7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 First Published 
 Second Edition 
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 Fourth Edition 
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 July 1903 
 October 1903 
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 April 1904 
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 May 1907 
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 December 1910 
 
PART I 
 THE BOOK OF HIS LUCK 
 
 " There were some of them who made a covenant with God : Verily, 
 if He gives us of His abundance, we will give alms and become righteous 
 people." — Alcoran. 
 
 265298 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 i 
 
 THE house of Said the fisherman nestled among the sand- 
 hills of the seashore at a long stone's throw from the 
 town, in whose shadow it lay at sunset. Within, it was a single 
 room, very dirty, the abode of many aged smells ; without, a 
 squat cube with walls of stone and roof of mud sun-baked and 
 rolled to «a seemly flatness. Hard by was a fig-tree, the 
 nearest to the sea in all that coast. Here, in a crotch of 
 the branches, Said would place his mattress in the stifling 
 summer nights and snore two deep bass notes in peace and 
 coolness, while his wife trumpeted a treble from her couch 
 upon the housetop. Here, when the day's work was done, he 
 would squat in the shade, drawing leisurely at his narghileh, 
 with the sound of bubbling water to cool him at every 
 puff. 
 
 He was not a great fisherman, such as is to be found in 
 Europe, with a sailing-boat of his own, who will go far out to 
 sea with his nets. If there were any such in all the coasts of 
 Arabistan, Said had never heard of them. Sometimes he 
 would row out in a friend's boat to a little distance from 
 the shore and drop his nets, a great circle of bobbing cork 
 and driftwood to mark their whereabouts. But mostly he 
 would go to some river-mouth or promontory where flat- 
 topped rocks stretched far into the sea, promising safe foot- 
 hold. And there, mother-naked, save for a huge turban, he 
 would paddle and flounder all day long with his cast-net, 
 sometimes alone, sometimes with several comrades. 
 
 At times, when the catch had been good, he would go into 
 the city with a crate of fish and take his stand in the market- 
 A 
 
2 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 place, in a corner which from long use he had come to call 
 his own. There he would cry in a loud voice, beseeching 
 Allah to put a craving for fish into the hearts of the passers- 
 by. And Allah often lent a kindly ear to his prayer, for he 
 seldom went home but with an empty basket. 
 
 It was one evening as he was wending homeward, dragging 
 his empty basket with him across the sand, that the first gust 
 of misfortune struck him. 
 
 The sun drew near to his setting, though as yet the sky 
 was innocent of red. Shadows lengthened eastwards across 
 the sand, of the colour of a periwinkle flower. A number of 
 dogs were lying replete about the body of a dead donkey at 
 the edge of the ripples, panting drowsily with their tongues 
 out. They blinked at him as he passed, and their bellies 
 heaved uneasily. They were too full to snarl. A sense of 
 well-being was upon him. He stopped to draw forth a little 
 bag from the girdle of his robe. It contained the gains of 
 the day. He let go the empty basket and squatted down upon 
 the sand, telling out the money piece by piece into his lap. 
 His eyes gloated over the pile. 
 
 He held the fingers of his left hand wide apart and touched 
 them one by one with the forefinger of his right. His brows 
 puckered with the effort to reckon how much he could afford 
 to lay by in that hole in the floor of his house which held his 
 savings. 
 
 So far as he could count, it needed but one more day like 
 this to make up the price of the coffee-house he had it in his 
 mind to buy. Then he would leave the fishing business to 
 Abdullah, his friend and partner, and customers would know 
 him thenceforth as Said ErTendi. That was but the first step 
 in the path of his ambition. Presently he would be a Bey — an 
 Emir, perhaps. He would lie all day upon a cushioned couch, 
 smoking from a narghileh of rare workmanship. And when 
 Abdullah came to beg him to buy fish, he would seize him by 
 both ears and spit in his face. 
 
 Of a sudden the sound of loud shouting broke upon his 
 reverie. 
 
 " Oah ! Oah ! Look to thyself, son of a dog ! " 
 
 He was aware of two horsemen galloping madly down 
 upon him from a gap in the sandhills — Turkish officers of the 
 garrison by their uniform. They were close upon him. He leapt 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 3 
 
 to his feet and sprang aside just in time to save himself from 
 being knocked down and trampled under their horses' hoofs. 
 He heard them laugh aloud and curse him as they sped by, 
 blinding him for the moment in a cloud of sand. 
 
 u May their house be destroyed ! " he snarled, looking after 
 them and showing his fangs like a dog that is angry. Then 
 he remembered the money which had been in his lap when 
 their shouts startled him, and there was no longer any room 
 for anger in his heart. 
 
 A wild light of hope and fear in his eyes, he flung himself 
 full length upon the ground and fell to groping and sifting 
 with trembling hands. But the wild rush of the horses had 
 played the whirlwind with the sand, scattering it hither and 
 thither and dinting it deep with hoof-prints. After many 
 minutes of burrowing and seeking he had found only two 
 small copper coins ; and already the sun was sinking behind 
 the city and its headland, whose shadow was within a hand's- 
 breadth of him. A long train of camels passed him going 
 towards the gate, the drivers cheerful at sight of their journey's 
 end. 
 
 "What seekest thou, young man?" cried one of them as 
 he passed the fisherman. 
 
 Said raised himself to a kneeling posture and spread his 
 hands over his eyes. 
 
 " Away, scoffer !" he cried sternly. "Who art thou that 
 thou shouldst question a pious man at his prayers ? " Then, 
 after an interval of meditation, he prostrated himself so that 
 his forehead touched the sand and forthwith resumed his 
 search, earnestly beseeching Allah to guide his fingers aright 
 and to keep all prying strangers at a distance. 
 
 The shadow was now upon him. All the west was a blaze 
 of red gold, so that every roof, every dome, every palm tree 
 upon the sky-line stood outlined clear and black. It was time 
 to give over this frantic groping and clutching which gave such 
 meagre results. He sat up and, squatting on his heels, began 
 a more orderly and less haphazard search, taking one handful 
 of sand at a time, sifting it between his fingers and laying it on 
 one side upon a heap. After more than an hour's experience 
 of this process he had recovered some twenty small coins, 
 amounting perhaps to a fifth part of the sum he had lost. 
 
 Night fell : the stars shone out, blackening the bulk of the 
 
4 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 dead ass, a few paces distant, which the dogs, reinforced by 
 stray comrades from the city, were beginning to worry anew. 
 The ripples, breaking in luminous foam upon the beach, 
 murmured sadly in his ears. Hunger began to get hold of 
 him. Hasneh would be wondering what had happened, and 
 that savoury mess of lentils and oil would be baked to a 
 cinder. Why should he not go home, eat and drink, and 
 return to his search later on ? It was not likely that the sand 
 would be again disturbed that night. He could come back early 
 in the morning and collect the rest of his scattered fortune. 
 His basket would mark the exact spot. 
 
 So thinking, he rose and went homewards. A faint light 
 streamed from the door and window of his dwelling. Hasneh 
 was in there with the lentils. His heart warmed at the 
 thought, making the neighbouring void colder and more empty 
 by contrast. As he drew near to the house a sound of wail- 
 ing grew in his ears — such wailing as he had heard at funerals 
 of the rich, where mourners were well paid for it. 
 
 His first thought was of the lent ,-, s, that they were spoilt. 
 His next, not without relief, that someone was dead within 
 the house. But there was no one to die except Hasneh her- 
 self, and she it was who was wailing, as he had sometimes 
 heard her scold, in a shrill cadence. His desire to learn the 
 truth lent wings to his feet. In a few long strides he gained 
 the threshold. 
 
 His woman lay stretched upon the floor within — a heap of 
 clothes from which those ghastly moans and howls proceeded, 
 mingled with curses on some unknown being of the male sex. 
 For a moment Said stood frozen in the doorway. Then the 
 sight of something black and shrivelled in a pan upon the 
 brazier sent angry blood coursing through every vein in his 
 body. That something had once been a savoury mess of 
 lentils baked in oil, the lust of which had drawn him from his 
 search among the sand. He sprang to a corner of the room, 
 seized a great staff which leaned against the wall, and fell to 
 belabouring the woman with all the strength of his arm. Her 
 droning wail changed all at once to a lively shriek. She leapt 
 to her feet and closed with him, trying vainly to wrest the 
 stick from his hand. 
 
 "May Allah cut short thy life !" she cried. .. "What have 
 I done to deserve this of thee ? " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 5 
 
 " The lentils are spoilt ! " retorted Said, furiously, wrenching 
 his arm free of her and bringing the stick down heavily on her 
 back. " May thy house be destroyed ! " 
 
 "Madman!" she screamed. "Thou speakest of 
 lentils when an enemy has robbed thee, ruined thee ! 
 Look ! " 
 
 She pointed to a hole in the floor which had been hidden 
 by her body when Said entered. Little mounds of fresh 
 sand on the brink of it showed that hands had lately been 
 at work there. 
 
 As Said's eyes followed the line of her forefinger his jaw 
 fell and the anger died out of his face. His stick clattered 
 on the ground. Some thief had found out the place where 
 his treasure was hidden, had come in his absence and un- 
 earthed the savings of ten long years. 
 
 He peered into the hole to assure himself that it was quite 
 empty. Not a single para had been let fall or overlooked 
 by the miscreant. His eyes became dull and filmy as those 
 of a blind man. His face grew livid as the face of a corpse. 
 He fell back against the wall of the room. 
 
 Supposing that the shock of her news had killed him, 
 Hasneh began to wail anew, beating her breast and plucking 
 at her robe to tear it. Her voice revived Said somewhat. 
 
 "Be silent," he muttered — "thou thief! Thou alone 
 wast in the secret of the hiding-place." 
 
 "Thy life is my life; thy fortune, my fortune," replied the 
 woman, with indignation. " If thou prosperest, I prosper ; 
 and I have a part in thy loss. Listen now to the truth, nor 
 judge me hastily unheard. 
 
 " Having prepared the lentils, I sat awaiting thy return, 
 when my heart became sad within me. And I thought, if I 
 uncover the hiding-place and fill my eyes with the sight of that 
 which is good to see, there is no sin. So I took the piece of 
 a broken vessel and scraped until the heap of coins was laid 
 bare to mine eyes. So my heart had peace. 
 
 " And as I sat gazing upon my husband's wealth which is 
 mine, the voice of Abdullah called from without : ' Behold the 
 great fish, the giant of the deep, whose back is like Lebanon and 
 his fins as the winnowing fans of Allah, with which he makes 
 the winds to blow and stirs the sea to madness ! It is Said 
 who has brought it to land. It lies by the white stone where 
 
6 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 the nets of Said are spread out to dry. Run, Hasneh, and 
 thou shalt see that which no woman has ever seen.' 
 
 " At that I gathered up my raiment and ran out of the 
 house, expecting to find Abdullah ; but I found no man. I 
 went all about the house, but I found not Abdullah nor any 
 other. Then I trembled and fear came upon me. But the 
 news of the great fish drew me onward, until I came to the 
 white stone and found it lonely as ever and the sea-fowl un- 
 disturbed upon it. Then I knew that an evil spirit had cried 
 in the voice of Abdullah to lead me astray. So I ran back 
 with all speed along the shore. When I came to the house 
 the hole was as thou seest it and all the money gone." 
 
 Her last words were almost drowned in a flood of tears. 
 
 Said trembled and cold sweat stood in pearls upon his 
 forehead. 
 
 "An evil spirit has done this," he murmured hoarsely. 
 " Oh, that my enemy had been a man ! " 
 
 He fell to bemoaning his fate, cursing the day that he was 
 born, and calling upon Allah to have mercy upon his faithful 
 servant. The house that had been rifled by an evil spirit 
 seemed dreadful and unfamiliar. The night which wrapped 
 it about was filled with hideous faces, which glowered at him 
 and mocked him through door and lattice. At length he 
 exclaimed : " Abide here, Hasneh, and keep watch. If thou 
 hearest a voice or seest any evil sight, cry aloud upon the 
 name of Allah and thou shalt be safe." 
 
 With that he stepped out into the night, and, girding up 
 his robe, sped across the sand to the city, black on the star- 
 light, where a few scattered lights shone faintly. 
 
II 
 
 CLOSE to the gate which is called the sea-gate, by which 
 one goes down to the shore, there was a house, or 
 rather hovel, built against the wall. This was the dwelling- 
 place of Abdullah, Said's bosom friend and partner. 
 Abdullah himself was sitting in the doorway, smoking his 
 narghileh, when Said came upon him. He was a fat man, 
 with small bright eyes which were seldom at rest. Within the 
 house a wick, floating in a saucer of grease, threw a fitful 
 light upon the four walls, upon a couch whereon his wife lay 
 huddled, a baby at her breast, upon the disorderly litter of the 
 floor. At sight of his friend Abdullah started to his feet. 
 His eyes were shifty to right and left, as though seeking some 
 way of escape. 
 
 " May thy night be happy," he faltered. 
 
 " May thy night be happy and blessed," replied Said, keep- 
 ing the rule which bids every man return a compliment with 
 interest. Then with a frantic gesture, " I am ruined ! An 
 evil spirit is my ill-wisher. My money — all that I had saved 
 these many years — has been stolen. Oh, that a man had been 
 the thief!" 
 
 Said's hands clutched murderously at the air and clenched, 
 showing how he would have dealt with a mortal foe. 
 
 Abdullah's composure returned to him at these words. 
 His face was almost cheerful as he exclaimed, "Merciful 
 Allah ! " 
 
 " Listen, Abdullah," pursued the other. " In my way home- 
 ward from the market I sat down to count over the price of 
 the fish I had sold, when — whizz ! — came two horsemen out of 
 the air, and would have ridden over me had not Allah put it 
 into my mind to jump aside. They laughed as they galloped 
 by. They had the faces of jin — you know them ! — eyes set 
 slantwise, ears long and leaf -shaped like the ears of a pig. 
 
 7 
 
8 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Then I found that all the money I had been counting was 
 scattered in the sand. After long seeking I recovered but a 
 few coins of small value. It grew dark. A train of camels 
 came along the shore. Each camel was as big as a house, 
 with a hump like the dome of a mosque. One of the drivers 
 looked at me and asked me what I did. His eyes were two 
 flames. They seemed to burn through to my heart. But I 
 prayed to Allah and he vanished, the camels with him. I 
 went home, hungry and thirsty, to supper ; but I found my wife 
 cast down upon the floor, weeping, and the lentils quite spoilt. 
 
 " Then she told me what had happened. As she sat in the 
 house a voice cried to her, for there was a great fish like a 
 mountain lying on the shore by the white stone. She stepped 
 out, but saw no man. She went to the stone, but there was 
 no fish great or small. When she returned to the house she 
 found a hole in the floor at the place where my treasure was 
 hidden. All the money was clean gone. Oh, that my enemy 
 had been a man ! " 
 
 "Said she aught of the voice which tempted her?" asked 
 Abdullah, with a hint of anxiety. His form was outlined in 
 shadow upon the faint light which streamed from the door- 
 way, so that Said could not see his face. 
 
 "Yes — a strange thing — she says that the voice was as thy 
 voice, O father of Aziz." 
 
 "There is no doubt that some devil has robbed thee," said 
 Abdullah, quickly. " Allah be my witness, I have not left my 
 house since noon by reason of a pain in my belly. Is it not 
 true, Nesibeh?" 
 
 The woman thus appealed to rose from her couch and 
 came shuffling to the door. " Yes, it is true, by Allah," she 
 averred. " He has been very ill. I feared he was at the gate 
 of death. But, praise to Allah, the pain has left his belly and 
 he is now in health again. An afrit has robbed thee and has 
 beguiled thy woman with the voice of Abdullah." 
 
 "I am ruined! What can I do?" Said cried in a frenzy 
 of despair. " Thou, O Abdullah, art known in all the city for 
 a wise man. Counsel me, I entreat thee ! " 
 
 Abdullah's face assumed the stolid expression supposed, 
 by the muleteers and camel-drivers whose oracle he was, to 
 betoken wisdom. His eyes became intent upon the inwards 
 of a fish which adorned the ground near his feet. He sucked 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 9 
 
 long and steadily at the mouthpiece of his narghileh, causing 
 the water in the bowl to bubble convulsively and the charcoal 
 in the cup above to give forth a lurid glow. Then he took 
 the tube from his mouth, cleared his throat, spat solemnly, and 
 said, — 
 
 "A devil has a spite against thee — that is known. He has 
 entered thy house once, he will enter it again. It is likely 
 that he is of those who haunt the waste places of the shore, 
 perhaps the very same who dwells in the ruined shrine among 
 the sandhills. It were well for thee to take thy staff and thy 
 woman and go into some far country — into Masr or into the 
 sunset-land which lies beyond. So thou shalt have peace, 
 being far from the enemy." 
 
 " What a mind ! " exclaimed his wife, with hands raised in 
 admiration. " He speaks like a prophet. The mind of 
 Abdullah is not as the mind of other men. He is a devil ! " 
 
 " Tush, be silent, woman ! " said the sage, indulgently. 
 
 Said squatted down at the threshold beside his friend. 
 He put a hand to his forehead and remained thus thoughtful 
 for some time. Then he said, "Thy advice is good. To- 
 morrow, at the rising of the sun, I shall depart. But thinkest 
 thou in truth that the evil spirit will not follow me ? " 
 
 "The jin have their homes like men," replied Abdullah, 
 sententiously. " They love to spend their lives in one place. 
 In another city thou shalt surely live undisturbed." 
 
 " But I have no money," Said moaned. " Without wealth 
 I shall find no place in a strange land." 
 
 Abdullah shook his head sadly. 
 
 " I am a poor man," he said, "but all that I have is thine. 
 Go, Nesibeh, see how much money there is in the house." 
 
 The woman left the doorway and shuffled across the room 
 to the couch where her baby slept. She felt under the cover- 
 ings and drew forth a small box, which jingled as she shook it. 
 
 Raising the lid, — 
 
 " Alas ! " she moaned. " It is a bad day with Abdullah. 
 There are but a few baras." 
 
 " It is a shame to ask my brother to accept so little ! " 
 exclaimed her husband. 
 
 "A little is much to one who has nothing," whispered 
 Said, eagerly. " Give me but the few baras that are there and 
 may Allah increase thy wealth ! " 
 
10 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Nesibeh turned the box upside down over the palm of her 
 hand, and a number of small coins fell from it. Said's brown 
 fingers closed on them like an eagle's claws. Then he rose 
 to take leave. 
 
 " In thy grace, I depart," he said. " May Allah prosper 
 thee, O father of Aziz." 
 
 " My peace go with thee," said Abdullah, his voice broken 
 with grief. 
 
 Said strode away, sad at heart, his mind busy with plans 
 for the future. Hope was all but dead within him, for he had 
 eaten nothing since sunrise. Alone once more and in the 
 darkness, fear fell upon him with renewed strength. All the 
 night was full of ghastly faces, of fiery eyes that glowered upon 
 him. Strange shapes flitted among the sandhills. The sea 
 burned with a pallid light. A fitful moaning was in the air. 
 Pausing for a moment, he fancied the night an endless pro- 
 cession of weird forms — a multitude which moved glidingly, 
 silently, as one man. It filled him with a strange new horror, 
 which yet seemed half familiar, as something remembered from 
 a dream. Well-known sounds, such as the hooting of an owl, 
 the bark of a dog from the city, or the howl of a jackal from 
 some landward garden, were separate terrors. 
 
 He had not made many steps from the door of his friend's 
 house ere the fear of the Unknown which lurks in darkness 
 took hold of him. He girded up his loins and ran across the 
 sand as fast as his brawny legs would carry him. He looked 
 neither to the right nor left till he reached his house. On 
 the threshold a savoury smell attacked his nostrils and hope 
 suddenly revived. Hasneh stood with her back towards him, 
 leaning over the brazier, from which light steam arose 
 enveloping her and filling the house with that peculiarly 
 hopeful smell. " Allah is just ! * murmured Said, licking 
 his lips. 
 
Ill 
 
 IT was the coolest hour of all the twenty-four when Said 
 the fisherman climbed down from his nest in the fig-tree. 
 In spite of the troubles and fears of the evening before 
 he had slept soundly and was refreshed. The eastern sky 
 was whitening to the dawn, and a wave-line of distant 
 mountains was grey and cloudlike upon it. Darkness still 
 lingered on sea and land, but it was a darkness of the earth 
 rather than of the heavens. 
 
 From a jar within the threshold of the house he took a 
 little water and went through the form of ablution. Then, 
 facing south, he knelt and fell prostrate several times, thumbs 
 fast behind his ears and hands spread across his eyes as an 
 open book. 
 
 As he walked along the shore to the place where he had 
 left his basket overnight, the cry of the first awakened sea- 
 bird hailed the dawn. The little city with its dome and 
 minarets grew white before him against a sky still dark and 
 studded with stars. A man came down from the sea-gate 
 riding upon an ass. Then came another man with two 
 camels. The folk of the city were astir and going every man 
 about his business. 
 
 The place was just as he left it, save that the carcase of 
 the donkey had been dragged a few yards to landward by the 
 hungry tearing of the dogs, and the backbone was now laid 
 bare. He flung himself face downward on the sand and fell 
 at once to his groping and sifting. 
 
 The stars shone dead in the west, then vanished altogether. 
 Rosy light stole over land and sea, mantling on the white 
 buildings of the city like the shame in a young girl's cheek 
 Then the sun flashed forth above the distant hills and all 
 things had colours of their own once more. 
 
 The rays struck warm on Said's back as he lay prone 
 II 
 
12 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 beside his basket. Their touch cheered him like a friend's 
 hand. He set to work hopefully with the result that, in 
 half an hour, he had recovered many coins, amounting to 
 within a few paras of the sum lost. 
 
 By that time there were many people on the beach, some 
 entering, some leaving the city. It was unsafe to prolong 
 the search lest someone, guessing his task, should fall upon 
 him and rob him. He got up, therefore, and walked home- 
 ward, trailing his basket along with him. 
 
 Hasneh stood in the doorway looking out for him. A 
 donkey, burdened with two sacks, was tethered to a low- 
 bending branch of the fig-tree. He smiled approval as he 
 slipped off his shoes at the door. She had been stretched 
 upon the roof when he set out and snoring loudly. He had 
 been gone but a little while, yet here was the ass laden with 
 all in the house that was worth carrying, and the morning's 
 meal of bread and curds ready to be eaten. 
 
 His fast fairly broken, Said went out to the fig-tree to see 
 that the girths were firm which held the sacks to the body 
 of the ass. The sunlight danced on the little waves as they 
 pushed shoreward, and made pearls of the dewdrops which 
 yet hung in the shade of some feathery tamarisks behind 
 the house. The sky was a great blue dome over sea and 
 land. His heart turned sick with the thought of quitting the 
 well-known scene, with its familiar voices, to sojourn among 
 strangers in a strange country. Why need he go ? The 
 terrors of the night before had no weight with him now. 
 They had faded with the darkness and the stars. 
 
 Doubtless his loss was great and hard to bear ; but others 
 had suffered worse things. The evil spirit which had robbed 
 him might not return again ; and if it did he had but to write 
 the name of Allah upon the doorposts, then upon the shutters 
 of the window, and his house would be safe. He stretched 
 out his hand to loose the burden from the donkey's back. 
 
 " May thy day be happy, O Said," came a complacent 
 voice from behind him. Turning, he stood face to face with 
 Abdullah, his partner. "Thou art to depart — not so? I 
 am come to see if I can serve thee in the work of packing 
 and lading." 
 
 " My mind is changed. Perhaps I go not," rejoined Said, 
 moodily. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 13 
 
 " What is this ? * exclaimed the other, seeming horror- 
 stricken. "Thou art mad to stay after all that has befallen 
 thee here." 
 
 "What matter! The like or worse may befall me in a 
 strange land. I will stay in the place where I was born, 
 wherein is my father's grave." 
 
 Once more Said put forth his hand to unload the ass, but 
 Abdullah caught his arm. 
 
 " I advise thee to thy advantage," he whispered angrily. 
 "We spoke last night of devils. What are they? Their 
 power is only in the night. There are who have power to 
 harm thee both by night and day." He sank his voice as if 
 fearing lest a bird of the air might carry his words to high 
 places. "The Basha has heard of thy wealth which thou 
 pretendest to have lost. Men have told him how thou dost 
 grope in the sand. Remember the fate of Ali ebn Mahmud, 
 who was said to have a treasure hidden in his garden, how 
 they beat and tortured him so that he died ! " 
 
 Said's jaw fell. " Is this true ? " he faltered. 
 
 "True, by Allah!" replied the other, his face anxious, 
 his little eyes keenly watchful of his friend's countenance. 
 "Am I a liar?" 
 
 A wild light of terror flamed in Said's orbs. He strode to 
 the door of the house and shouted to Hasneh to make ready 
 for the start. Then he returned and, untying the rope which 
 bound the ass to the tree, bestrode the already laden beast. 
 At the same moment his woman appeared from the house, a 
 great bundle upon her head. 
 
 " Allah be with thee ! " he cried, striking the ass with his 
 staff, so that it started forward at a shambling trot. 
 
 "But what of thy nets, of thy house, of thy fig-tree?" 
 cried Abdullah, wringing his hands. 
 
 " Take them— all that I have ! " shouted Said, without 
 looking back. He was sitting on the hindquarters of the 
 donkey, flourishing a rope which served for bridle, his long 
 brown legs stretched along the sacks, his feet erect beside the 
 beast's ears. His whole frame jolted with the trotting of his 
 steed. The woman ran behind with one arm raised to keep 
 her bundle from falling. 
 
 " Whither away ? " shouted Abdullah. 
 
 " To Es-Shim — to Baghdad — to India ! — far away ! 
 
14 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 What matter, so that I be out of his reach. May all his race 
 perish ! " 
 
 Abdullah stood looking after the fugitives until they were 
 lost to sight among the sandhills. Then he took a cigarette 
 from somewhere in the depths of his trousers, lighted it and 
 squatted down in the shade of the fig-tree now his own. 
 
IV 
 
 AS for Said, he urged his steed across the sand as fast as 
 the weight on its back and the looseness of the ground 
 would allow. His arm rose and fell continually with a 
 backward sweep, and the hindmost part of the donkey rang 
 wooden to the thwack of his stick. A constant growl of 
 curses rolled upwards from his throat. Hasneh, her bosom 
 heaving^ her breath coming and going in short pants, struggled 
 to keep up with him. 
 
 As they proceeded the soil became firmer under foot ; 
 creeping branches of the wild vine, rank grasses and sundry 
 big-leafed plants, bound the sand together. Soon they came 
 into a road with a hedge of prickly pear on either side, fencing 
 an orange garden. Through gaps in the hedge golden globes 
 shone amid dark foliage with here and there a spray of white 
 blossom. The air was cloyed with a fragrance from which 
 the hum of bees seemed inseparable. A gate by the wayside 
 stood open. Within were two men busy packing a great heap 
 of oranges into square wooden boxes. Said shouted a saluta- 
 tion as he sped by, and in return they pelted him with the 
 fruit — a dozen at least — which Hasneh stayed to gather up 
 into the bosom of her robe. The scarlet flowers of a 
 pomegranate tree flamed among the leafage on their right 
 hand. 
 
 A little while and the gardens were left behind. The wide 
 plain rolled in smooth waves before them, away to the foot 
 of the mountains, with a shimmer of grey olives in the 
 distance. 
 
 At the end of an hour, during the whole of which Said 
 ceased not for a minute from beating his donkey, they drew 
 near to a village which stood upon a hill, three fine palm- 
 trees tapering skyward from among its squat dwellings of sun- 
 
 15 
 
16 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 baked mud. Here the fisherman proposed to rest awhile till 
 the heat of the day should be passed. Hasneh praised Allah 
 for the respite. 
 
 As they entered the narrow pathway, choked with offal, 
 which ran between the hovels, a man's voice called to them 
 from a doorway, — 
 
 M Deign to enter, O Said ! Honour my house with thy 
 presence." 
 
 The speaker came forth and bowed low, holding a hand to 
 his forehead. He was a huge, loutish fellow, who had seen 
 thirty summers and more. He had a bushy black beard, 
 and big brown eyes of rare stupidity. His long garment 
 and his turban had grown old upon him. He came 
 sometimes to the market to sell the produce of his field. 
 Said had seen him there and spoken with him more than 
 once. He was called Muhammed abu Hassan, and bore the 
 reputation of a good-tempered, lazy fellow. 
 
 The fisherman, nothing loth, alighted, and having touched 
 the hand of his host in salutation, proceeded to tie up his ass 
 to the doorpost. That done, he slipped off his shoes and 
 allowed himself to be ushered into the house. Hasneh 
 squatted down humbly at the threshold of the door. 
 
 Their host set to work to kindle some charcoal upon a 
 stone in one corner of the room, grumbling all the while 
 because his woman was not there to do it for him. She was 
 at work in the tobacco-fields, it appeared, with others of the 
 village. 
 
 Somehow — it must have been by magic, or the laden ass 
 tethered outside may have had something to do with it — it soon 
 became known in all the village that a stranger had arrived 
 from the city and was the guest of Muhammed abu Hassan. 
 Men dropped in, one by one, feigned surprise at sight of Said 
 and of each other, and squatted down with their backs to the 
 wall. 
 
 " What news ? " was the first question of a newcomer after 
 the proper civilities had been exchanged. 
 
 To which Said replied, in every case, " There is nothing 
 lew to-day." 
 
 " It is said that there will be war between the Turks and the 
 Franks ? " said an old man, reverend and very dirty, in a tone 
 three parts of assertion, one part of inquiry. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 17 
 
 « "I have heard nothing of it," Said answered, rolling a 
 cigarette between thumb and forefinger. 
 
 " Allah grant that there be no war ! " cried an aged sheykh, 
 with face wrinkled as a withered olive, in a quavering voice. 
 "I remember, when the last war was, they sent suddenly and 
 seized every horse, mule and donkey in our village for the 
 soldiers to ride. Only a horse and two asses were restored 
 to us when all was over. And after two days the horse 
 died." 
 
 There broke forth a chorus of guttural curses upon wars 
 'and soldiers. 
 
 At last the business of grinding and stewing the coffee was 
 
 accomplished. Two small cups were passed round the circle 
 
 from hand to hand, Muhammed filling and refilling them until 
 
 all had partaken. Even Hasneh, sitting patient and submissive 
 
 •on the door-sill, was not forgotten in the end. 
 
 " Whither goest thou ? " asked Muhammed of his guest, 
 when at last he had leisure for conversation. 
 
 "To Damashc-ush-Sham," replied Said, and hesitated. 
 He dared not tell the true reason of his leaving home, lest he 
 should forfeit the esteem of his hearers. A man who bewails 
 his misfortunes before strangers is a fool and rightly despised ; 
 but he who exalts himself is sure of honour. He added, — 
 
 " I go to Es-Sham, to the house of my brother, who is 
 dead. He was a great man and rich. Moreover, his woman 
 was barren. I go to claim the inheritance." 
 
 The murmur of congratulation which this fiction called 
 forth had scarcely died away when a clatter of hoofs rang 
 through the village. Faint shouts and cries came from the 
 distant field where the women were at work. 
 
 " The soldiers ! The soldiers are upon us ! " cried Hasneh 
 from her post at the threshold. 
 
 Every man sprang to his feet and rushed to the door, Said 
 with the rest. Five Turkish soldiers and a young officer rode 
 at a foot's pace up the narrow path between the hovels. 
 Remembering the words which Abdullah had spoken that 
 morning, Said's teeth chattered. Doubtless the Pasha was 
 informed of his flight and these men had been sent to take 
 him. 
 
 "Where is the house of the sheykh of the village?" cried 
 the officer as he rode by. 
 B 
 
18 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 A score of turbaned heads were bowed, a score of brown 
 hands saluted, and a score of voices proffered directions in 
 divers tones of self-abasement. Said was reassured. Had the 
 officer been looking for him he would not surely have asked 
 for the house of the sheykh. The next moment his heart sank 
 again and a cry of dismay broke from his lips. One of the 
 troopers, in passing, bent down, and severing the cord by 
 which the donkey was tethered with one stroke of a knife, 
 caught the end deftly as it fell, and rode on, leading with him 
 all that remained of Said's worldly goods. With a shriek of 
 rage and despair, the wretched man broke through the crowd 
 and sprang forth into the blinding sunlight. A few fierce 
 bounds and he had overtaken the plunderer. He strove to 
 wrest the rope from his grasp. 
 
 " Stay ! Stay ! " he cried. " Let me but take off the sacks ! 
 It is all that I have ! " 
 
 For answer he received a blow on the wrist which forced 
 him to quit hold. 
 
 " Pig ! " cried the soldier, angrily. " The Sultan has need of 
 thy beast for his soldiers ; and I that am his soldier have need 
 of those sacks for myself. Dost understand ? Let go, son of 
 a dog ! " 
 
 Said, baffled in his design upon the rope, was now 
 struggling frantically to wrench the sacks from the donkey's 
 back. 
 
 The cavalcade had come to a standstill before the house 
 of the sheykh, and the other soldiers looked on good- 
 humouredly, laughing now at their comrade, now at the 
 fisherman, with perfect impartiality. Their laughter stung 
 the plunderer to frenzy. He unslung the carbine from his 
 back, and, leaning over the saddle-bow, dealt a vicious blow at 
 Said's head with the butt of it. The daylight swam blood-red 
 before the fisherman's eyes. His head seemed to dilate and 
 there was a singing in his ears. He fell forward, senseless, 
 upon the ground. 
 
WHEN Said again became conscious of his surroundings 
 he was in the house of Muhammed abu Hassan, lying 
 on a couch. Hasneh and another woman were bending 
 over him. The latter drew her veil hastily across her face as 
 his eyes blinked at her in bewilderment. Hasneh uttered a 
 cry of delight. 
 
 Said looked about him wondering. Sullen, scowling faces 
 filled the doorway, blotting out the sunlight. A sound of 
 muttered oaths was in the room. Of a sudden he remembered 
 all that had befallen him and staggered to his feet. 
 
 " I am ruined ! ■ he cried. " They have taken my donkey 
 —all that I have. May Allah cut short their lives." 
 
 Responsive curses came from the group in the doorway, 
 and Muhammed replied, — 
 
 " We are sad for thee, effendi. The journey to Es-Sham 
 is long and wearisome for one that goes on foot. Yet art thou 
 more happy than we. Thou wilt have the inheritance of 
 thy brother who is dead. Thou wilt have wealth wherewith 
 to buy horses and asses, as many as thou needest. But they 
 have taken all that was ours. Curse their father ! Of all our 
 beasts there remain but a camel, and a mule which is on the 
 point of dying." 
 
 Said's hand was pressed to his forehead. His face had 
 the inward look of one reviewing things past. At length he 
 asked eagerly, " What is the hour ? " 
 
 M It is near the third hour since noon," replied Muhammed 
 after a brief glance at the shadow of his dwelling. 
 
 The fisherman turned to his woman. " Ready, O 
 Hasneh ? " he asked. 
 
 " Ready, " was the meek rejoinder. 
 
 "But thou art yet weak from the blow which the soldier — 
 burn his house ! — gave thee," Muhammed, as host, was bound 
 
 19 
 
20 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 to protest. " My house is thy house. Rest here till evening. 
 The first hours of night are pleasant for travelling." 
 
 But Said, remembering the words of Abdullah, was 
 resolute. Pursuers might come upon him at any time. With 
 profusion of thanks to Muhammed for his kindness he took 
 up his staff and set out once more. Hasneh followed, her 
 bundle poised upon her head. 
 
 They passed out from the village down a steep slope, where 
 big red anemones shone amid ragged grass, across a stony 
 wady with a trickle of water among the pebbles, and entered 
 a grove of olive trees. Here Said lay down in the shade. He 
 was still dizzy from the stunning blow he had received, and 
 the strength seemed to run out of his legs. He complained 
 bitterly of thirst ; whereupon Hasneh produced those 
 oranges which had been thrown at them in the morn- 
 ing from the bosom of her robe. Having devoured 
 two of them, Said wiped his dripping mouth upon his 
 sleeve and felt refreshed. He was preparing to resume 
 his way when the sound of a man's voice close at hand 
 stayed him. 
 
 "Praise be to Allah, who has placed such fools in the 
 world ! I asked for bread, and he gave me meat as well. 
 And when I had finished eating he gave me money for my 
 journey. A madman — may Allah reward him ! " 
 
 The sun through the leafage cast a chequer-work of golden 
 light and blue shadow upon the ground. The speaker came 
 towards them, walking slowly between the gnarled trunks, 
 with eyes upturned. It was a hale old man of sixty years or 
 more, tall and upright. His body was clad in a loose robe, 
 whose colour had once been blue, reaching to a little below 
 the knee. His bare feet and shins were grey with dust. 
 Upon his head was a battered and tasselless fez, with a dirty- 
 rag wound round it by way of turban. Happening to let his 
 eyes fall a minute from their heavenly contemplation, he 
 became aware of the presence of fellow-creatures and his 
 whole demeanour changed in a second. His form seemed to 
 shrivel and grow less. His head sank down upon his breast, 
 his eyes writhed upward so that only the whites of them were 
 visible, and his whole body was distorted to a semblance of 
 the last agony. 
 
 Stretching forth a trembling hand he besought the pity oi r 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 21 
 
 his hearers for a poor old wretch who found himself alone 
 and without money in a strange land. 
 
 "Allah will give to you !" he whined. " For the love of 
 Allah, help me or I die ! . . . O Lord ! . . . Allah will give to 
 you ! . . . By the Coran, I am at the gate of death ! . . . 
 Allah will give to you ! . . . My sons were killed by the 
 Bedawin ; my daughters were ravished before my eyes ! . . . 
 Allah is bountiful ! . . . O Lord ! . . . I myself have a hand 
 that is withered ! . . . O Lord ! . . . My house was destroyed 
 by an earthquake ; a thief came in the night and stole my mare 
 from me ! . . . Allah will give to you ! . . . My children 
 were slain before my eyes ! . . . O Lord ! . . ." 
 
 It is likely that he would have gone on whining in this 
 strain for an hour or more had not Said broken in, — 
 
 " Allah will give to thee ! I am poor even as thou art. I, 
 too, have been robbed and my house brought to ruin. I, too, 
 was once a rich man, having flocks and herds, houses and 
 vineyards, ay, and the half of a city belonging to me. And 
 now there is no difference between me and thee. Allah will 
 give to thee ; I have nothing." 
 
 In a twinkling the old beggar resumed his natural shape. 
 His head rose, his body straightened, the pupils of his eyes 
 came again into sight. 
 
 " Is it true? " he said in a friendly tone, squatting down in 
 the shade beside the fisherman. "Then I tell thee thou art 
 happy. All to gain ; nothing to lose. There is no trade like 
 ours. All the day long we cringe, we flatter, we weep and 
 none can resist us. And afterwards, when the evening is 
 come, we laugh and are merry, with eating and drinking, with 
 music and women. Behold, I love thee, for thy likeness to my 
 son, Mansur, who forsook me. I feel as a father toward thee. 
 Is it a long time that ruin is upon thee ? " 
 
 " But a few hours, O, my uncle," replied Said, bitterly. 
 
 The old rascal threw up his hands and cast his sly eyes 
 skyward. 
 
 " Ah, it is sad at the first, and thou art downhearted — it is 
 natural. But after a few days — a week — a month, thou wilt 
 not envy the greatest in the land." 
 
 Said was not pleased to have his misfortunes thus lightly 
 treated as part of the common lot of mankind. He made 
 haste to explain. 
 
22 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "With another man it would have been a small thing. 
 He would have lost a camel, or perhaps a house. But as for 
 me, I was a great man — the greatest in all the city. Men ran 
 to kiss my robe as I walked abroad. I had camels and 
 horses, asses and mules, more than a man can count in an 
 hour. It is no common loss that makes me sad." 
 
 " I suffer with thee," said the beggar, with a reminiscent 
 shake of his head. "I also was lord of great wealth. In 
 those days men knew me by the name of Mustafa Bek. 
 Now I am only Mustafa, the old beggar. Allah is 
 greatest ! " 
 
 But Said was not to be outdone. 
 
 " But yesterday men kissed the ground between my feet/' 
 he said, with a shake of the head the counterpart of the 
 other's. " I was called the Emir Said, and none dared 
 come near me save with forehead to the earth. Allah is 
 greatest ! " 
 
 14 1 had twenty men whose only pleasure was to do my 
 bidding," said the beggar in his turn, "and the beauty of my 
 three wives made the fair ones of Paradise jealous." 
 
 " All the men of the city were as slaves before me," said 
 Said ; " and if I had a desire towards any girl, I had but to 
 command her father and she was given to me." 
 
 " And how wast thou deprived of all this ? " asked his 
 rival, curiously. " Such things do not fade away like stars at 
 the sun's rising. By Allah, they do not go out like a lamp for 
 a puff of wind." 
 
 " My city was by the seashore," faltered Said, after a 
 moment's hesitation. " Last evening, at the hour of sunset, 
 the waters rose and swallowed up all that was mine. I 
 and this woman alone remain alive of all that were in the city." 
 
 The beggar rose to his feet with a laugh. 
 
 "Thou hast yet much to learn, O Emir," he said scornfully* 
 yet with a certain indulgence. " The sea rises not once in a 
 hundred years, and then all the world knows of it. Yesterday, 
 at the hour of sunset, I stood by the shore and beheld the 
 sea calm and undisturbed as usuaL Thou hast much to 
 learn, my son." 
 
 " May thy house be destroyed ! " muttered Said, grinding 
 his teeth with mortification. "How far is it to the next 
 village, old man ? " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 23 
 
 "Perhaps an hour — maybe an hour and a half — Allah 
 knows ! — perhaps two hours." 
 
 "Who was that of whom thou wast speaking at the first?" 
 asked Said with some eagerness. " He gave thee meat, thou 
 wast saying, and money for thy journey. Doubtless it is some 
 great one whose house is open to poor wayfarers ? " 
 
 " I spoke but of a Frank who passed me in the way," said 
 the old man, with a chuckle at the recollection. " He was 
 dressed all in black, and rode upon a fine horse. I knew him 
 for one of those who preach to the Christians and would have 
 all men believe in three gods. I saw him a long way off and, 
 when he drew near, I flung myself down in the way, swearing 
 horribly, and crying out that Allah had forsaken me. Thereat 
 he got down from his horse and tried to comfort me with soft 
 speaking and hard words from the book of his religion. But 
 I cursed the louder and let him know that I was very hungry ; 
 whereupon he drew out a paper from his saddlebags, wherein 
 was bread and meat, which he gave to me." 
 
 " When I had made an end of eating I began to weep and 
 told him a grievous tale of how my house had been burned 
 and all my children killed by Turkish soldiers. This I said 
 knowing that a Frank loves always to hear evil of the Turks. 
 He wept with me as he listened. He gave me money — as 
 much as a man could earn by the labour of a week. Then he 
 mounted and rode away, his face sad from the tale which I 
 had told him. May Allah reward the unbelieving fool ! " 
 
 "Y'Allah! Let us depart at once," cried Said, eagerly. 
 " Perhaps we may overtake him before the night." 
 
 " Did I not tell thee that he rides upon a horse, and that a 
 fine one?" said the beggar. "Thou can'st never hope to 
 overtake him. He told me that he was going two days' 
 journey on the way to Es-Sham, to the place where he dwells. 
 Whither goest thou ? " 
 
 "To Es-Sham," cried Said, gleefully. "I will visit 
 him and tell the tale of my great loss. Allah be with 
 thee I " 
 
 Said set forward through the olive grove at a great pace, 
 Hasneh shuffled after him with her usual docility — the good 
 beast of burden, ready to stand or go on at her master's word. 
 As for the beggar, he stood looking after them until they were 
 lost to sight among the tree trunks. He chuckled often as he 
 
24 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 went his way, repeating the word "Emir" with scornful 
 emphasis. 
 
 Sunset fires were blazing high in the west when Said and 
 Hasneh drew near to the village of which the beggar had told 
 them. It was a small place, built of stone, crowning the 
 utmost slope of the mountain seaward. To reach it they had 
 to climb a pebbly road, which wound upwards serpent-wise 
 among terraces of fig and olive trees. At the entering in of 
 the village grew a giant sycamore, about whose trunk the 
 elders of the place were squatting in solemn conclave, smoking. 
 Said saluted them politely as they drew near. 
 
 "What news?" asked a reverend sheykh, who seemed the 
 head man of the place. 
 
 "There is war," replied Said, with a low obeisance. 
 " Soldiers scour the country for horses and mules. I know it 
 well, alas ! for they have taken my mare — curse their fathers ! 
 — a thoroughbred worth fifty Turkish pounds, by Allah ! — and 
 I am forced to pursue my journey on foot." 
 
 " Allah restore her to thee," rejoined the sheykh, fervently. 
 " We guessed that all was not well in the land, for this after- 
 noon, as my son was ploughing on the hillside yonder, he 
 beheld a company of soldiers ride across the plain, and many 
 beasts of burden with them. Thanks be to Allah, we are 
 warned in time. Ere the rising of the sun all our cattle shall 
 be in a safe place among the hills, save a few that are sick, 
 which they can take if it please them." 
 
 Said, seeking tidings of the missionary, was told that he had 
 ridden through the place about the third hour after noon, and 
 must be sleeping at Beyt Ammeh, a mountain village four 
 hours distant. 
 
 " Is there a guest chamber in this village where I and 
 my woman may pass the night?" asked Said, in some 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Thy news is timely and thou art welcome," replied the 
 sheykh. " My house is thy house. Deign to follow me." 
 
 With that he rose and led the way to a house which was 
 larger by a room than other houses of the village. This room 
 was built on the roof and had the appearance of a tower when 
 seen from a distance. Within, it was a small chamber, softly 
 carpeted, with a cushioned divan running round the walls, 
 destined for the lodging of guests of distinction. Said would 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 25 
 
 never have been admitted to its precincts but for that fabulous 
 mare of his worth fifty Turkish pounds. 
 
 Here, having partaken of a feast such as he had seldom 
 enjoyed, he spent the night, a pale sky flaked with stars 
 watching his slumbers through open door and lattice. 
 
VI 
 
 IN the morning Said rose early, and having breakfasted and 
 taken leave of his host, set forth with Hasneh in the cool 
 twilight and started to climb the steep path which twisted 
 among olive trees up from the village. At the top he paused 
 for a last look at the plain he was leaving. Away to the south- 
 west a little promontory jutted into the sea. White buildings, 
 a dome and two slender minarets were just discernible upon 
 it in the pale light which comes before the sun. That was 
 the city of his birth, and there, somewhere on the yellow rim 
 of the bay, was his own little house with the fig-tree beside it 
 from which he had seen the sun rise morning after morning, 
 year after year. From where he now stood he could trace hia 
 whole course of the previous day. There, midway in the plain, 
 on the crest of a wave of green, was the village where his 
 donkey had been taken from him, where he had been stunned 
 by that blow of the soldier's carbine of which the very memory 
 brought pain. He knew it from the other villages dotting the 
 landscape by the three tall-palm trees tapering above its hovels, 
 like rich plumes in a ragamuffin's cap. There was the olive 
 grove where he had spoken with the old beggar. And here, 
 two hundred feet below, at the foot of a terraced slope so steep 
 that it seemed easy to throw a stone down on to the roof of 
 the sheykh's house, was the village he had just left. His eyes 
 ranged over the prospect, to return always to that white town 
 upon the headland which was his birthplace. The sun rose 
 upon the sea and the skirts of the plain, though the shadow of 
 the mountains still darkened the near villages. Standing at 
 the doorway of his home he would have been in the sunlight 
 now. The thought gripped him by the throat. A sob from 
 Hasneh told that her mind was straying in the same direction. 
 Said's voice was hoarse as he set forward once more, bidding 
 her follow him. 
 
 26 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 27 
 
 The path dipped rapidly to the brink of a rocky gorge, 
 and naked hills closed in upon them as they descended. To 
 Said it seemed as if a door had slammed behind him, shutting 
 off the past. His heart sickened for a while. 
 
 But the fresh air of the spring morning would not brook 
 despair. In spite of himself hope came uppermost as he 
 made his way along the rugged mountain side. The beggar's 
 words kept ringing in his ears : All to gain, nothing to lose ! 
 He could rob a man now without fear of reprisal. He had 
 all the world before him, and bright, keen wits, undulled by 
 the least rust of conscience, for a sword against his fellow-man. 
 He had nothing to lose, unless — 
 
 A thought, which was almost a wish, flitted through his 
 brain. He turned his head and let his eyes rest for a minute 
 upon the form of Hasneh plodding patiently beneath her 
 burden. 
 
 The shadows dwindled with every minute. The dew on 
 the ground rose in steam wherever the sun's rays touched it. 
 For long they trudged on in a land of mountains barren and 
 rocky. Overhead the deep blue sky paled about a blinding 
 sun. Not a tree was to be seen. The distance swam before 
 them in streams of heat. The sound of Hasneh's breathing 
 was like the panting of a dog at his heels. In the shade of a 
 great rock they sat down to rest. All around them, between 
 the boulders, anemones held out scarlet cups to the sun. 
 Small pink flowers filled the crannies of the rocks. Here and 
 there, from its clump of dark-green leaves, a tall spear of 
 asphodel stood up, bristling with buds. Said eyed the scene 
 with disgust as he mopped his forehead with one hand. 
 
 "By the Coran, it is hot to-day," he muttered, "And 
 there is no water until we come to Beyt Ammeh." 
 
 Hasneh thrust a hand into her bosom and drew forth the 
 few oranges which were left. Said seized one and devoured 
 it greedily. A second went the same way. By the time his 
 thirst was slaked but one remained, which Hasneh, despite 
 the craving of her dry lips and throat, put back within her 
 robe. 
 
 They set forward once more and had not made many 
 steps before a man met them, asleep on the hump of a camel. 
 Said called to him to know the way ; whereat he awoke with 
 a start, lost balance, and fell heavily on the stones by the 
 
28 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 wayside. He staggered to his feet, blood streaming from a 
 wound in his forehead. Cursing bitterly, he caught up a big 
 stone and hurled it at Said, who dodged it narrowly and, 
 without waiting for further provocation, rushed on his assailant 
 and closed with him. Hasneh shrieked loudly for help, 
 wakening vain echoes. The camel, nose in air, chewed the 
 cud placidly, as a wise man smokes his pipe, with a downward, 
 supercilious glance at the fighters. 
 
 Victory did not hang long in the balance. Said was a tall 
 man, lean and wiry, while his opponent was short and 
 hampered with fat. The fisherman forced him backward 
 until he tripped on a boulder and fell. Then he set foot on 
 the belly of the fallen one and raised his staff to strike at the 
 face of his enemy. Fury blazed in his eyes. 
 
 " Stay ! may thy religion be destroyed ! " panted the camel- 
 driver in a rapture of fear. "What am I to thee that thou 
 shouldst slay me ? Thou art a devil to cause me to fall and 
 then to destroy me ! May thy father perish ! Strike not ; I 
 am no enemy of thine ! I never beheld thee till this hour ! " 
 
 Said lowered his stick, but his brow was still clouded and 
 his posture threatening. 
 
 " Take away thy foot ! " gasped the other. " What have I 
 done that thou dost so ill-treat me ? All that I have is thine, 
 only spare my life ! " 
 
 Said did not budge. 
 
 "A man's life is worth much," he said thoughtfully. " How 
 much wilt thou give me ? " 
 
 " May thy whole race perish ! I will give thee all that I 
 have — ten piastres." 
 
 " Not enough." Said's foot pressed more heavily upon the 
 mound of flesh. 
 
 " Twenty — thirty piastres ! " shrieked the man. 
 
 " Not enough." 
 
 " A Turkish pound ! ... By Allah, it is all that I have. 
 And it is my master's money, not my own. Alas for me, 
 I am ruined ! " 
 
 Said withdrew his foot. 
 
 "Rise not until thou hast paid the ransom or I will slay 
 thee," he said savagely. 
 
 The man loosened his garment, showing a linen bag which 
 hung by a string from his neck. Slipping the cord over his 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 2& 
 
 head he flung the bag to Said with a curse. The fisherman 
 examined the contents in a kind of dotage, then nodded to 
 the hostage. 
 
 " It is well," he said. " Go in peace. And another time, 
 when thou fallest by chance from thy camel, throw no stones 
 at those who stand by lest a worse thing befall thee." 
 
 Calling to Hasneh, he strode on his way with a light heart, 
 leaving the camel-driver to digest the gall of his loss as best he 
 might. They had gone some twenty paces when a noise of 
 mighty cursing filled the air behind them. At the same 
 moment a great stone came whizzing within a foot of Said's 
 head. Another struck Hasneh on the back, causing her to 
 stagger and fall forward. Said girded up his loins and ran 
 until he was beyond the utmost range of any missile. Then 
 he got upon a rock and began to revile his assailant in a loud 
 voice, using his hand as a trumpet. He watched the wretched 
 man climb upon his camel again and heard the scream of rage 
 and hate with which he turned to shake a fist at his plunderer. 
 The fisherman laughed aloud and ceased not from insulting 
 his enemy until a shoulder of the mountain hid camel and 
 rider from sight. 
 
 Hasneh had struggled to her feet by this time and was 
 making her way towards him, stumbling, one arm hugging her 
 bundle, the other outstretched, like one walking in the dark. 
 He cried to her to know if she were hurt. Her answer was 
 in the negative, but faintly and without conviction. Said 
 waited until she was within a few yards of him and then 
 pursued his way, chuckling over his own cleverness in turning 
 what had once seemed a misadventure to good account. The 
 linen bag nestled lovingly to his chest, seeming to recognise a 
 worthier owner. 
 
 All to gain, nothing to lose. . . . 
 
 He could no longer apply the words strictly to himself. 
 Nevertheless, they rang hopefully in his ears, seeming to tell, 
 him that the sum he had just acquired was but an earnest of 
 the wealth in store for him. 
 
 The sun was almost at the zenith when they came in sight 
 of the village of Beyt Ammeh ; for the great heat oppressed 
 them and they walked slowly, taking frequent rests. The 
 squat, flat-roofed houses were hardly to be made out at a 
 distance, so little did they differ in form and colour from the 
 
30 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 surrounding rocks. Only a few ragged fig-trees and a thank- 
 less striving after cultivation in the immediate neighbourhood 
 told of a dwelling-place of man. 
 
 On the outskirts of the village, just below the ringed 
 threshing-floors, a spring gushed out beneath a ruinous arch 
 by the wayside. Flat-topped stones had been placed in the 
 shadow to serve as seats to wayfarers. Here Said stopped, 
 and after a long, refreshing drink proceeded to bathe his 
 head, hands and feet. Hasneh sank down upon a stone with 
 hand pressed to her side, waiting patiently until her lord 
 should have done with the water. Then she rose, took one 
 step forward, staggered, and, with hands outstretched to the 
 fountain, fell heavily upon her face. 
 
 For full three minutes Said stared down at her blankly. 
 Such behaviour was quite beyond the cycle of his experience. 
 At last he bethought him of the cold water and began to dash 
 it over her wildly with both hands. 
 
 Then, as she did not move, he concluded her dead 
 and sat down to try and get used to the notion. He was 
 engaged thus, staring at the lifeless form of the woman at his 
 feet, when a shadow darkened the ground before him. At the 
 -same moment a quavering voice asked to know what was the 
 matter. Lost in reflection, Said had not heard the patter of 
 feet drawing near. 
 
 Alarmed by the suddenness of the apparition, he leapt up 
 with a curse. An old woman stood before him, bent almost 
 double beneath a heavy burden. Her head nodded, her 
 limbs quaked with palsy. Her jaw working like a camel's, 
 she repeated the question in a shriller tone as Said stared at 
 her with wide-open eyes. 
 
 11 It is my woman who is dead," said the fisherman, rue- 
 fully, pointing to the ground. 
 
 " How dost thou know that she is dead ? " asked the old 
 hag, in scorn. " As I came out from the village I saw her 
 fall, and would have run to help her but that I am very old 
 and feeble. But I watched thee. Thou hast done nothing 
 more than throw a little water upon her clothes. Turn her 
 over, madman, so that she lies upon her back." 
 
 Something in the manner of the old woman daunted Said 
 and made him ashamed. He had not done much to revive 
 Hasneh, it was true; but then, he had supposed her dead, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 31 
 
 and none but a fool would wantonly waste his time in trying 
 to bring a dead woman back to life. He had now little doubt 
 that she lived, thanks to the old woman's scornful suggestions. 
 In his heart he cursed the crone for breaking in upon him just 
 when he had brought his mind to a peaceful contemplation 
 of his wife's dead body. Yet he obeyed her, and, lifting Hasneh 
 en his arms, laid her down again, face uppermost. 
 
 " Now, sprinkle water upon her lips ! " 
 
 Said obeyed a second time, with the result that after a little 
 while Hasneh opened her eyes. 
 
 " Take her up and bear her to the village ! Thou hast no 
 more mind than a donkey ! " piped the hag, in shrillest scorn, 
 seeing him stand purposeless. 
 
 The shame Said felt at having his actions ordered by a 
 woman found vent in a hearty curse on her, her religion and 
 all her belongings. Nevertheless, he did as he was bidden, and 
 taking Hasneh in his arms entered the village, grumbling at 
 every step. 
 
 At the threshold of one of the hovels, on the edge of the 
 sunlight, sat a woman grinding at a small handmill. Said 
 called to her that his wife had fallen sick and needed rest. 
 She rose at once from her business to bid him enter and wel- 
 come. The darkness of the room within was refreshing after 
 the scorching glare of noon. A man rose from a squalid 
 couch against the wall and greeted Said in a sleepy voice. 
 He waved a hand to the dirty mattress he had quitted, and 
 then to the woman in the fisherman's arms. 
 
 " May Allah increase thy wealth ! " murmured Said, laying 
 down his burden upon the bed. 
 
 " Leave a woman to the care of a woman," said the man of 
 the house, beckoning him to the doorway. "This woman of 
 mine will tend her and, after a little, we will drink some 
 coffee." 
 
 Said squatted down beside his host, just within the shadow 
 of the room. The outlook was of stony hills whitening under 
 the burning noonday sky, and in the foreground the low mud 
 roofs of the village in broken terraces. 
 
 " Whence comest thou ? " asked the lord of the house, after 
 a silence spent in the rolling and lighting of cigarettes. Said 
 told him the name of the village where he had passed the night. 
 
32 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 " Didst thou meet any man by the way ? " he asked with 
 sudden interest. " My brother — his name is Farun — set out 
 this morning on the road to the plain. He is a short man 
 and very fat. He rides upon a camel laden with stone. Hast 
 seen him ? " 
 
 "Yes, I saw him," replied Said, thoughtfully, as one recall- 
 ing a picture to his mind. " He was sitting by the wayside 
 and blood streamed from a wound in his head. His camel 
 strayed browsing at a little distance. He told me that robbers 
 had fallen suddenly upon him in the way. They had taken all 
 that he had of money. They had beaten him with a stick and 
 stoned him. I helped him to bind up his wound and gave 
 him of my money — all that I could spare. Then I saw him 
 mount upon his camel and ride away. He bade me tell his 
 brother what had befallen him when I should reach this 
 village. The sickness of my woman had ousted it from my 
 mind till now." 
 
 "Now, may Allah requite thee, for thou art a good man and 
 bountiful ! " said the other, with eyes and hands upraised. " I 
 hold thee as my near kinsman for this kindness done to my 
 brother. My house is thy house. Rest here to-night, I pray 
 thee. To-morrow, about the third hour, my brother will 
 return. Abide with us till then that he may thank thee once 
 again. By Allah, I think he would slay me were I to suffer 
 thee to go thy way unfeasted. Stay at least till the evening. 
 Seeing the mishap which has befallen him it may well be he 
 will return ere night. By the Coran, it is lucky that the 
 robbers did not take his camel also ! " 
 
 "I cannot stay," said Said, hurriedly. "My brother is 
 dead in Damashc-esh-Sham and I go to claim the inheritance. 
 I must hasten on my way." 
 
 " If not for thine own sake, for the sake of thy woman 
 abide here till evening," urged the host. 
 
 Said appeared wrapt in thought for some minutes. His face 
 was moody with knitted brows. Of a sudden it brightened. 
 
 " For myself, I cannot stay," he said. " But it were well 
 for my woman that she should rest a while till the sickness 
 leave her. . . " 
 
 His eyes looked eager inquiry at the other. 
 
 " She is welcome and more than welcome ! " cried the host, 
 without hesitation. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 33 
 
 11 May Allah increase thy wealth ! " murmured Said, fer- 
 vently, making a low salaam. "When I come to the city I 
 will send to fetch her, and thy reward shall be very great. 
 Think not because thou seest me poorly clad that thou art 
 showing kindness to a beggar. My brother was rich and I go 
 to claim the inheritance." 
 
 He glanced furtively towards the couch, in fear lest Hasneh 
 should have heard anything of his speech. But her eyes were 
 closed, and her bosom's rise and fall was of one in a peaceful 
 sleep, gentle and even. Her robe hung open at the neck, 
 showing something round and yellow nestling in the soft 
 brown hollow between her breasts. It was the orange which 
 she had forborne to eat that morning. The sight of it in the 
 bosom of the sleeping woman warmed Said's heart to some- 
 thing like pity. It was an appeal to his good nature, the 
 stronger for being voiceless. For a moment his purpose was 
 shaken. 
 
 " All to gain : nothing to lose ! " 
 
 His heart hardened as he recalled the words of the old 
 beggar. There was a glint of steel in his eyes as he turned 
 them once more upon his host. 
 
 "It is past noon," he said. "In thy grace I depart. 
 Take care of the woman belonging to me and thy rewa?d shall 
 be great. May thy wealth increase ! * 
 
 94 My peace with thee ! " said the man, staring at him with 
 amazement. " But stay at least until thou hast drunk coffee 
 with us. See ! it is almost ready." 
 
 Said dared not break the law of hospitality. He waited, 
 fidgety, and ill at ease like one sitting upon a red-hot iron. 
 He shifted his seat continually, and his eyes kept veering 
 round to where Hasneh lay asleep, yet never looked at her. 
 When at length a tiny cup of coffee was put into his hand he 
 flung his head back and swallowed the whole contents at a 
 gulp. Then he pressed both hands to his chest and his whole 
 body writhed. He had forgotten in his haste to drink and be 
 gone that the stuff was scalding hot. Tears streamed from his 
 eyes, sweat stood in great beads on his forehead as he set 
 down the empty cup and rose to take his leave. 
 
 "Thou art a fire-eater, by Allah!" cried the lord of 
 the house, staring aghast at him, cup in hand. " Why 
 art thou in so great a hurrry? A minute or two will not 
 C 
 
34 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 rob thee of thy inheritance, and the heat of the day is not yet 
 past." 
 
 But Said was more eager than ever to be off. Glancing 
 fearfully in the direction of the bed he had seen Hasneh open 
 her eyes and stare vacantly about her. 
 
 " Take all care of her, and may Allah prosper thee ! " he 
 muttered hurriedly, crossing the threshold and dodging 
 behind the doorpost. "After a week I shall send to thee. 
 Allah requite thee, O father of kindness ! " 
 
 He set off at a great pace, spurred by the thought that 
 Hasneh might discover the trick played on her and come run- 
 ning after him. 
 
vn 
 
 AT the village where he passed the night, a village half-way 
 down a mountain side, terraced and fledged with olive- 
 trees, which looked over a wide stretch of flat country, Said 
 gleaned tidings of the missionary of whom he hoped so much. 
 The man in black had ridden through the place before noon 
 and was gone to his house in the plain, an hour's journey 
 beyond. His heart was light when he set out in the morning. 
 Far away across the plain, mountains — the hugest he had ever 
 seen — were dreamy in the mists of early dawn. A white gleam 
 of snow among their summits was new to him, and would have 
 held his eyes but for the nearer charms of a red-roofed house 
 in the plain below, where a blessed fool dwelt and a man 
 could have money for the asking. Thanks to the hospitality 
 of the villagers, the Turkish pound was still untouched in the 
 linen bag upon his chest. With what he hoped to obtain from 
 the preacher he would enter the great city in triumph instead 
 of beggary. 
 
 The sun was already hot upon the plain when he reached 
 the house of the Frank. A tall negro, clad in a flowing robe of 
 yellow and white, finely striped, with a clean white turban 
 bound about his scarlet fez, was sweeping the doorstep with a 
 broom. Said wished him a happy day, and sitting down upon 
 his heels — for the ground was dewy — disposed himself for a 
 chat. But the negro was gruff. All Said's compliments were 
 returned as curtly as the barest politeness would allow, and 
 his leading questions answered by an "Allah knows ! " and a 
 shrug of the shoulders far from satisfying. 
 
 Finding that there was nothing to be gained by flattering 
 the surly doorkeeper, the fisherman changed his tone. Rising 
 to his feet, he cried, in a loud voice, meant to sound like 
 thunder, "Go, tell thy master that I wish to speak with him ! * 
 
 35 
 
36 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 The negro paused in his sweeping to look at him and 
 laughed, showing two rows of dazziingly white teeth. 
 
 " My master sleeps," he said. " Thou knowest little of the 
 ways of a Frank if thou thoughtest to speak with him at this 
 hour." 
 
 " At what hour will he awake ? " asked Said in the same 
 lofty tone. 
 
 " Allah knows ! " replied the negro, with a shrug, going on 
 with his sweeping. 
 
 Said squatted down once more upon his heels. 
 
 " I wait here till he is ready ! " 
 
 The negro grinned angrily and indicated the vastness of 
 the horizon by a flourish of his broom. 
 
 " Walk ! " he said grimly. 
 
 Said seemed not to understand. 
 
 " Walk ! " repeated the negro, fiercely, rushing upon him 
 with broom upraised. 
 
 With a scared curse Said scrambled to his feet and 
 bounded away, swift as a gazelle in fear of the hunter. The 
 negro stood looking after him, his broom still threatening, 
 until the flutter of a blue robe and the twinkle of brown legs 
 were lost to sight among the knotted trunks of an olive grove. 
 
 As soon as he thought himself safe Said flung himself upon 
 the ground, panting for breath. A pair of doves fluttered 
 somewhere among the branches, cooing sadly over a lost 
 paradise. The sunlight made its way here and there through 
 the leafage in bars of golden haze. A sound, made up of the 
 barking of a dog, the cries of children and the musical clink of 
 a hammer on iron, told him that there was a village somewhere 
 in the depths of the wood. The grating song of the cicadas, 
 that waxed and waned in his throbbing ears, seemed the live 
 spirit of the sunlight stirring in the shade. Warm breaths, the 
 sweet steam from dew-drenched plants and moistened earth, 
 rustled the leaves and silvered them faintly. 
 
 11 May his father perish ! " muttered Said between his 
 clenched teeth — a sign that his breath was returning. 
 
 A little later, when he had ceased panting, he crept to the 
 edge of the sunshine. Keeping his body hid behind the wide- 
 spread trunk of an ancient olive he peeped forth. 
 
 At a stone's throw the house of the missionary rose sheer 
 amid a waste of rank grass and thistles traversed by a bridlev 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 37 
 
 path. Beyond rose the mountain side, filmy in a bluish heat- 
 mist. Half-way up Said descried the place where he had 
 slept, a cluster of low buildings of the same hue as the neigh- 
 bouring rocks, seeming as natural a growth as they. 
 
 The negro had left the doorway ere this, and was gone out 
 of sight to some other place where was need of his broom. 
 But Said dared not yet step forth into the open, an impression 
 of the black man's strength of limb and the broom's menace 
 being fresh upon him. He watched and waited. 
 
 Soon there were signs of a stirring to life within the house. 
 The shutters of an upper window were closed against the sun 
 by an arm thrust out for the purpose. At the same time a 
 man's head was seen for a moment. Then a little boy with 
 thin brown legs came out of the olive wood, passing close to 
 Said but without seeing him. He must have come from the 
 village near at hand for he carried a big pitcher of milk easily 
 and without fatigue. He passed round a corner of the house, 
 and shortly returned swinging the empty pitcher. Windows 
 were opened. A shrill Arab chant in a woman's voice came 
 from some lower room. How many servants had this accursed 
 unbeliever? Said wondered. 
 
 Presently, just as he was thinking of trying his luck once 
 more, the negro being nowhere to be seen, a tall Frank, clad 
 all in black save his arms, which were in white sleeves, appeared 
 in the gloom of the doorway and shouted, " Cassim ! " 
 
 Said had taken a step forward, with intent to rush across 
 the intervening space and fling himself at the blessed mad- 
 man's feet, when the reappearance of his enemy made him 
 shrink back. The man in black seemed to be giving an order, 
 to which the negro bowed assent. Then Said saw the Frank 
 re-enter the house, while the servant ran round to the back of 
 the building. 
 
 The coast was clear once more. But the second coming 
 of the negro to thwart him had made Said cautious. Choosing 
 what he deemed the wise man's part, he watched still and 
 waited. But after a few minutes the negro returned, leading 
 a handsome grey stallion by the bridle, when Said had the 
 vexation of seeing the missionary mount and ride away. His 
 parting charge to the black servant, shouted as the restive horse 
 broke into a canter, reached Said's ears distinctly through the 
 still, sounding air. 
 
38 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 " I return at sundown, O Cassim ! Tell the people there 
 will be no school to-day ! * 
 
 The negro stood awhile looking after the horseman. Then 
 he turned and, going about his business, passed once more out 
 of sight. 
 
 Said flung himself down in the deep shadow behind his 
 tree trunk, calling down every ill he could think of upon the 
 Frank and all his race. The tall negro also was not forgotten 
 in that all-embracing curse, nor his father, nor his grandfather ; 
 not so much as an aunt or a cousin was left out. Then, feel- 
 ing better, he began to sound the depths of his disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 From the time of his meeting with the old beggar he had 
 looked to the bounty of the Frankish missionary as a traveller 
 in the waste looks forward to the place of waters. He snarled 
 as he thought that he might have gained his end and gone 
 rejoicing on his way but for the selfish devil that kept the 
 door, who guarded the well for his own use. Now he must 
 leave the place as he had come, with only a single Turkish 
 pound in the linen bag against his chest. It was nothing 
 beside what he had hoped to get from the mad preacher of 
 unbelief. He had no mind to stay there till nightfall on the 
 slender chance of eluding the watchfulness of the negro and 
 winning the ear of his master. The city called him with a 
 siren's voice. There, in the vast bustling hive, were wondrous 
 chances for a young man and a strong who had nothing to 
 lose. There were women fairer and sweeter than Hasneh — 
 young girls, perhaps, pure as lily buds, who would tremble and 
 wax faint at a kiss. He licked his lips softly. 
 
 A sound of footsteps close at hand startled him out of a 
 languorous dream. It was the negro, who, unobserved of 
 Said, had crossed the open space of sunlight and was thread- 
 ing his way among the gnarled trunks of the grove, a large 
 basket on his arm. He passed within twelve paces of the 
 fisherman, but without perceiving him, so still he lay. 
 
 Then a thought came to Said. Now that the enemy was 
 gone what was to hinder him from entering the house and 
 viewing for himself the splendour which must assuredly reign 
 within? From all he had seen and heard during his long 
 watch it was unlikely that the unbeliever had more than one 
 manservant. There would be none but women in the house ; 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 39 
 
 and if one of them should surprise him and ask what he did 
 there, he had only to tell her of his wish to speak with the 
 Frank, her master. He stole from his lair and stepped out 
 into the sunlight. 
 
 The silence of the place, with all those windows gazing so 
 fixedly at him, was a little daunting at first, so that he advanced 
 warily. It seemed as if a shout must come from the open 
 door, which looked so like a mouth. But when he had made 
 a few paces unchallenged courage returned to him. The 
 Arab chant he had before heard came faintly from some room 
 at the back. But for that, and a great cat blinking to sleep on 
 a window-sill, the place seemed desolate. 
 
 Slipping off his shoes on the doorstep he passed swiftly into 
 the cool gloom within. There was a sort of hall, wide and 
 lofty, having two windows, one on either side of the entrance. 
 Upon a table in the midst of it lay the remains of a feast — 
 broken, bread and meat, a plate of oranges and a bowl half 
 empty of curds, besides a great cup and saucer and two white 
 jugs of an outlandish fashion. Facing him, beyond the table, 
 were two doors, both shut, from behind one of which the 
 sounds of chanting seemed to proceed. He stole past the 
 table, his bare feet making no noise on the stone pavement or 
 the matting which was over part of it. There was a stairway 
 in a recess to the right. He mounted swiftly and stealthily. 
 
 At the top an open door attracted him. It showed a room 
 with a bed in it and soft rugs upon the floor. Said went 
 straight to the bed and fell to examining its framework, sitting 
 on his heels and exclaiming, " Ma sh'Allah I" under his breath. 
 It was almost like a table standing on six iron legs ; but four 
 of the legs reached above it as well as below, and each of the 
 four was crowned with a little knob, like an orange, of some 
 burnished yellow metal he took for gold. A wonderful thing ! 
 It was long ere he could tear himself away from the marvel. 
 
 The room was cool and pleasant, shaded from the sun, 
 which beat on that side of the house, by the shutters of the 
 window, which were closed. Upon a small table there was a 
 mirror. He saw his counterpart for a minute without recogni- 
 tion. Then he grinned, and scanned the face in the glass with 
 complacency. From a peg beside the door hung a long 
 garment of brown stuff, soft as wool, yet thick and strong as if 
 it had been of camel's hair. It was braided with red at the 
 
40 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 collar and on the sleeves, and a red cord dangled from a loop 
 in the middle, ending in two red tassels. Above it, on a nail, 
 was a scarlet fez, of the high shape worn by Turks and great 
 ones. 
 
 Said took off his own cap and the encircling turban which 
 old ties of dirt and perspiration had made of one piece with it. 
 The back of his shaven head, thus laid bare, was reflected in 
 the looking-glass, the ears standing out from it huge and 
 grotesque as those of a jinni. He eyed his ancient headdress 
 with disgust. The round tarbush, shaped like the half of a 
 pomegranate, with its clumsy tassel which had once been blue, 
 appeared a sorry thing indeed as he looked from it to the new 
 scarlet of that other cap. His raiment, too, was old and 
 stained, in need of a cloak to hide its shortcomings. Taking 
 down the brown robe from the wall he turned it about and 
 about, seeking the holes for the arms. Then he slipped into 
 it and, setting the scarlet fez upon his head, went back to the 
 mirror. 
 
 He noticed a fault. The fez, being used to cover a thick 
 crop of hair, was too large for his shorn poll. His ears alone 
 prevented it from putting out the light of his countenance. 
 He cast about for a remedy. There was upon the table a 
 small white cloth or kerchief of finest linen. This he made to 
 serve his turn by twisting it tight round cap and forehead as a 
 turban. That done, he grinned freely and examined other 
 objects upon the table. Among them was a picture of a girl, 
 clad indecently after the manner of the Franks. Said eyed it 
 closely, wondering what purpose it could serve. Then he re- 
 membered that the Franks are but idolaters, who worship 
 pictures and other forbidden things of their own making. " It 
 is his god, by Allah ! " he muttered, turning away with a gesture 
 of disdain. Before leaving the room he cast his discarded 
 headgear upon the bed with a parting curse on its religion. 
 
VIII 
 
 AS Said was making his way downstairs, with less of caution 
 than he had observed in his ascent (the joy of his 
 new finery had elated him beyond all prudence), a door 
 was opened in the hall below and a woman came out. Be- 
 holding him she drew her veil hastily across the lower part 
 of her face. Her eyes were bright and her movements had 
 the grace of youth. 
 
 " Who art thou ? What dost thou here ? " she cried shrilly. 
 "The khawajah is on a journey and Cassim is gone to the 
 village. I am alone in the house, the old woman, my mother, 
 being ill. If perchance thou hast an errand to my master 
 I can give word to him on his return. ,, 
 
 Of a sudden her voice rose to anger. 
 
 " Allah, pardon ! Where gottest thou that cloak ? Thief 
 that thou art ! It is the robe of my lord, which hangs always 
 in his own chamber. O Cassim, there is a thief in the house ! 
 A thief! O Cassim, a thief! " 
 
 She ran screaming to the outer door and opened her mouth 
 wide towards the olive grove, crying always, " O Cassim ! 
 O Cassim ! A thief ! a thief ! " 
 
 Said rushed on her and pinioned her arms. 
 
 He tried to fling her to the ground, but she struggled like 
 a mad thing, and at length, bending swiftly, with the yell of a 
 wild beast, bit the fisherman's hand so that he cried out with 
 pain. Need to look at the wound made him loose his hold, 
 whereupon she broke away and fled within the house, barring 
 a door behind her. 
 
 Said frowned at the marks of her teeth in his flesh, from 
 which the blood began to ooze. He put the place to his 
 mouth and sucked it — an act which prevented a storm of 
 curses. And even as he was tending his wound in such a 
 
 41 
 
42 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 manner as Nature prompted, the screams of the woman broke 
 out anew, as of one in a frenzy, — 
 
 " O Cassim ! Help ! a thief ! O Cassim ! O Cassim ! " 
 
 This time there came an answering shout from the olive 
 grove. 
 
 Turning, he beheld the negro running towards the house 
 as fast as his long black legs could carry him. Said snatched 
 up his slippers from the doorstep. With the spring of a 
 hunted animal he leapt out into the sunlight, and gathering 
 up his new robe, sped away from house and olive trees, out 
 into the wide plain, where hot air swam along the distance in 
 liquid mist. 
 
 Once he turned to look back. The negro had set down 
 his basket and was pursuing at a steady trot which meant 
 business. Said fled on, but with slackened pace. He had 
 need to husband his breath, for the race was like to be a long 
 one. Panting, sweating from every pore, he stumbled across 
 a wady where a little freshet of water tinkled among boulders 
 from pool to pool. Brushing through the belt of oleanders 
 on the further bank, he ran on across the bare land, trampling 
 rank grass, thistles and creeping plants. 
 
 But the negro had long legs. Said learnt, by the growing 
 beat of footfalls in his ears, that he was losing ground. Soon 
 he could hear also the hard breathing of his pursuer. He 
 made a spirt, though his heart was near to breaking, it thumped 
 so against his ribs. 
 
 "Allah is merciful!" He had almost fallen into a deep 
 hole, overgrown with weeds at the mouth — a disused cistern, 
 it might be. He had lengthened his stride only just in time. 
 A piteous shriek came from behind him. He turned to glance 
 back, still running. The black was nowhere to be seen. He 
 dropped to the ground, pressing his hand on his heart. 
 " Praise to Allah ! " he gasped, and then lay still, panting. 
 
 The sun beat hotly upon him there in the open plain. 
 He longed for some patch of shade, were it but of a shrub, 
 enough to shelter his head and face. Only a few paces 
 distant a lonely carub-tree of great size spread its gnarled 
 boughs and glossy dark foliage over a rough pavement — a pious 
 foundation for the repose of travellers. Said dragged himself 
 thither and lay a great while with eyes closed. 
 
 " Praise be to Allah ! * he exclaimed again, when breath 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 43 
 
 had quite returned. Then he bethought him of the black 
 man and that the hole might be of no great depth after all. 
 He rose and went to the place. 
 
 While he was searching among weeds and dwarf shrubs 
 for the mouth of the pit he saw a black hand come up out 
 of the ground and clutch the stalk of a big blue thistle. Then 
 he regretted bitterly that he had flung away his staff lest it 
 should prove a hindrance in running. For want of it he took 
 a jagged stone in his hand and beat viciously with it upon 
 the bony parts of the fingers. The desired yell at once 
 reached his ears, and the hand was nimble as a lizard to slip 
 back into its hole. Then Said, lying flat upon his stomach, 
 wriggled forward until he could look down into the prison. 
 There was his enemy standing upright in a narrow place like 
 a well, but dry to all appearance. By stretching down his 
 arm he could almost have touched the negro's white turban. 
 Cassim glared up at him with white eyes of hate. Said could 
 hear him grind his teeth for rage of helplessness. 
 
 He looked forth over the wide brown plain with faint 
 blue mountains everywhere along the skyline, and back to 
 where the house of the Frank at the foot of the hill was like 
 a tiny white box shut tight with a high red lid. 
 
 Then peering again into the hole, he laughed aloud. 
 
 " Is it cool down there, O son of a pig ? " he inquired. 
 " By Allah, thou art well housed and I envy thee. Up here 
 I am roasting in the noon-day, whilst thou, within arm's 
 length of me, dost enjoy the cool of night. There is a road 
 not far from thy dwelling, O foul scion of a race of swine ; 
 also a great tree where travellers may rest in the shade. But 
 for all that, help is far from thee. Men will take fright at thy 
 cries, coming from under the earth, and will fly swiftly as from 
 a place of sin. I have it in my mind, thou dog, to drop earth 
 down on thee and stones, and so bury thee. What sayest 
 thou, ugly one ? It would give me joy to defile thy grave ! " 
 
 Of a sudden the negro made a great leap with hand up- 
 stretched. His nails grazed Said's face, causing him to draw 
 back in alarm. 
 
 " Curse thy father, son of a dog that thou art ! " came a 
 terrible voice from the pit. "May thy life be cut short! 
 May all thy children rot, and thy woman betray thee to 
 an enemy ! " ^ 
 
44 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "A wise man gives fair words to his master, * retorted 
 Said, and his voice was like a leopard's paw, so soft yet 
 dangerous. " What art thou to me that I should delay to 
 slay thee ? At my elbow there is a nice stone which would 
 break thy head as it were an egg. Speak smoothly to thy 
 master, O Cassim, son of a pig ! " 
 
 A fresh outbreak of cursing answered from the hole. 
 Then Said reflected that he had wasted time enough in play 
 by the wayside. The shadow of the carub-tree, lying like a 
 blot of ink upon the whitening land, tempted him to rest there 
 yet a little while. But two fears urged him onward. The 
 negro might in the end get out of the hole, when Said could 
 hope for no mercy if caught napping thereabouts; and the 
 woman he had assailed, alarmed at Cassim's non-appearance, 
 would soon raise the hue-and-cry, if she had not already 
 done so. 
 
 Said knew that his road lay towards those faint blue 
 distant mountains with the whiteness among their crests, and 
 there his knowledge ended. The plain stretched burning and 
 treeless in that direction, but at a point far away a ripple of 
 foliage broke the level. He could make out the shape of a 
 palm-tree, seeming of no more substance than a blade of 
 grass, so distant it was, and the quiver of hot air between. 
 Palms do not grow solitary like weeds or carub-trees. A 
 village was therefore near it, where he could inquire his road 
 more perfectly. There remained only to take farewell of the 
 prisoner. 
 
 He drew near once more to the mouth of the pit. With 
 a look of concentration he leaned over and spat full in the 
 upturned face of the negro. Then he rose lightly and went 
 his way. 
 
IX 
 
 IT was towards evening when Said left the place where, 
 weary from long walking in the fierce eye of noon, he had 
 sought shelter and refreshment. A crowd of men, women 
 and children — all who dwelt in that place — went out with 
 him from among the hovels as far as a tall palm-tree, which 
 crowned a smooth hillock green with grass. In the midst of 
 the obsequious rabble Said strutted a king, distinguished as 
 he was by the missionary's brown dressing-gown, braided 
 conspicuously with red, and girt about the waist with a red 
 and tasselled cord ; not to speak of the new scarlet fez bound 
 to his head by a turban of more than human cleanness. 
 
 Arrived at the palm-tree, all the villagers pressed forward 
 to kiss his hand or, it might be, only the skirt of his wondrous 
 robe. The glory of his raiment had enthralled them at his 
 coming, and in the first rapture of greatness, in the joy of 
 their cringing and flattery, he had promised to see that all 
 their wrongs and grievances were presently redressed. 
 
 So he strode on his way with their blessings, turning ever 
 and anon, with a gracious gesture, to look back at the squalid 
 crowd of fellahin, who stood grouped about the palm-tree, 
 looking after him with hands shading their eyes. His brain 
 was on fire with arrogance. Every herb on which he trod 
 marked a new act of condescension. The whole earth fell 
 down before him. The sun burned for him alone. Trees 
 and shrubs cast their shadows like garments in his path. 
 
 But by-and-by, as the village shrank in distance, the vapours 
 besetting his brain began to disperse. His legs were stiff from 
 his race of the forenoon. He longed for a horse to carry him 
 at ease, and the wish did much to sober him. A great one 
 does not travel on foot, neither does he wander from home in 
 the heat of the day without at least a sunshade in his hand, if 
 not a servant to hold it over him. Sudden shame came upon 
 
 45 
 
46 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 him like an ague. The villagers would discuss his appearance 
 now that he was gone, and remembering that he had neither 
 horse nor servant, not so much as a parasol, would perceive 
 their own folly and curse him for an impostor. At that he 
 quickened his step so as to be far from a place where he must 
 shortly be held in derision. 
 
 The violet mountains, which had seemed so far away in the 
 morning, were now nearer to him than those others from whose 
 base he had set out. The sun, a disc of flame, was sinking 
 down on the uttermost rim of the plain. Shadows were no 
 longer dense and inky under every object, but stretched long 
 and blue to eastward, growing with every minute. Far away 
 across the flat Said was aware of a thin bright line, vague and 
 dreamy beneath the setting sun. On that side was the sea. 
 He grew sad as he recalled his little house among the sandhills. 
 The cool breeze of evening was stirring the great leaves of his 
 fig-tree even now. 
 
 As he pondered on things past a spirit awoke within him 
 and showed him Abdullah in a new light. He stood still, as 
 if gripped by a sudden twinge of pain. Stretching forth his 
 hands to Heaven he bade Allah witness the trust he had ever 
 placed in his friend and partner, and the consequent enormity 
 of the fraud. In the first frenzy he thought to retrace his 
 steps, to walk day and night without respite, until he had slain 
 the treacherous liar. He even took a dreadful oath before 
 Allah to that effect. But his mind soon changed. There was 
 an evil report of him all along the way by which he had come. 
 He felt ashamed because of Hasneh, and feared to see her face 
 again. And the great city lay before him, where Allah alone 
 knew what joys might be in store for him. Nevertheless, he 
 made a vow : that, when he had achieved the greatness of his 
 hopes, he would return to his native town riding upon a horse, 
 with a company of horsemen, his servants, and would cause 
 Abdullah to be whipped in his sight with a lash set thickly 
 with sharp nails ; and then, when his enemy lay bleeding and 
 faint at his feet, he would recite the story of his crime aloud 
 for all men to hear. And at last, to make vengeance complete, 
 he would spurn his enemy with his foot and gallop off with 
 his servants in a cloud of dust. 
 
 Twilight was closing swiftly into night when Said reached a 
 place where was a well in the shade among some olive-trees, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 47 
 
 and hard by a low, flat-roofed house, from whose open door 
 and window a faint red light flickered upon the trampled 
 ground. 
 
 " Praise be to Allah — a khan ! " he murmured, espying the 
 forms of two men smoking on stools before the door. Tethered 
 to the nearest tree, a horse, which appeared black in the half 
 light, was munching steadfastly in a wooden trough. The 
 saddle was still on its back, though the girth was unfastened 
 and dangling. 
 
 The two who sat smoking by the door rose courteously at 
 the approach of a stranger. Said returned their salutation as 
 though it had come from the dirt beneath his feet. He re- 
 moved a stool to a seemly distance from them and sat down, 
 calling impatiently for food and drink. 
 
 " My horse is fallen by the way," he cried in a loud voice, 
 for the enlightenment of all who might be in the house. " I 
 bade my men stay to tend the beast, having yet hopes that he 
 may recover. A good horse, by Allah, which I bought for 
 fifty Turkish pounds, but I would not part with it for a 
 hundred. In a little while they will be here, if they lose not 
 their way in the darkness, which is very possible, their mind 
 being little as the mind of a sheep." 
 
 At the sound of that high speech the master of the khan 
 appeared — a tall, black shape on the glow of the doorway. 
 Behind him other dark forms were discernible — a cluster of 
 heads, some turbaned, others draped in a shawl bound about 
 the temples with a rope of camel's hair. 
 
 Said was not pleased to find the khan so full of people. 
 In such a crowd there might well be some great one who 
 might expose him. The fear was vague but sickening. It 
 was speedily laid to rest. A ray of firelight played on Said's 
 sleeve, showing the fine red braiding, when an awe-stricken 
 murmur spread among the group at the door. It made him 
 smile in his beard. 
 
 " What is thy will, effendi ? All that I have is thine," said 
 the owner of the house, coming forward with a deep obeisance. 
 " Deign but to enter the room. It is my shame that I have 
 no meat to set before your Eminence. But condescend to 
 wait a little and my woman shall slay a fowl . . ." 
 
 " I have little hunger, I thank thee, and I prefer the open 
 air," broke in Said, loftily. " I do but await the men belonging 
 
48 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 to me, whom I left to tend my horse, which fell in the way 
 hither. A good horse ! Two hundred Turkish pounds would 
 not requite me for his loss. Bring only a little fruit, some 
 bread and some sherbet of roses. And forget not to prepare 
 coffee and a narghileh for when I have done with eating." 
 
 At that all was bustle and running to and fro. One ran to 
 the well for water. Another undertook to pound the coffee. 
 A third set a little stool before the fisherman and a lantern to 
 shed light on his repast. A fourth prepared the weed for his 
 narghileh by first plunging it into a jar of water, then wringing 
 it out strongly with both hands. And those who could not be 
 of active use raised their voices officiously in counsel and 
 direction. 
 
 Only one held aloof. It was an aged man, one of those 
 who sat smoking before the door. His bearing seemed 
 superior to the rest. He alone remained seated, sucking 
 lazily at his narghileh. Said divined a scornful smile on this 
 man's face as he looked on at the slavishness of his neighbours. 
 Night, stealing out from under the olive-trees, had now com- 
 pletely hemmed in the house, so that, as they sat apart, Said 
 could not see his countenance. But something told him the 
 contempt was there, and it made him uneasy. 
 
 All that he required was presently brought and set upon 
 the stool before him. There followed a hush, as the by- 
 standers, having no more work to do, sat down on their heels 
 at a discreet distance and watched his meal. They conversed 
 together in whispers. 
 
 Said could hear the horse munching its chaff and barley 
 under the trees hard by. There was now and then the stamp 
 of a hoof, or a faint thud as it pushed against the wooden 
 manger. He found it irksome to eat in state and apart. It 
 came into his mind to call the host to him ; but reflecting that 
 true greatness brooks no fellow, he refrained. Instead, he 
 pricked his ears to catch the gist of their whispering. 
 
 "Officer" — "Soldiers" — "War" were among the words 
 which reached him. They fired a train of new ideas. 
 Straightening his back, he stroked his moustache and beard 
 with soldierly fierceness. 
 
 He was aware of a movement in the group. With the tail 
 of his eye he saw the master of the khan draw near to that 
 aged one who sat aloof and speak to him. Even in the dark- 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 49 
 
 ness he knew that both their faces were turned in hi? 
 direction. 
 
 " O Faris ! Bring the coffee for his Excellency ! — and the 
 narghileh also ! " cried the host ; whereat a man rose and ran 
 quickly into the house. But the innkeeper himself did not 
 budge. He remained whispering with the sheykh, and their 
 eyes were fixed on Said. 
 
 Presently, when the great man seemed fully and happily 
 occupied with his smoking, the sheykh rose with a show of 
 carelessness, picked up a pair of saddle-bags which lay by the 
 wall, and went silently to where the horse was tethered. Said 
 heard him thrust aside the portable manger, and knew, though 
 he could not see, that he was busy strapping the girth. Then 
 came the jingle of a bit. 
 
 The fisherman rose with an evil smile. He felt himself 
 the object of all eyes, and in face of that quaking audience 
 which believed in him was bold as a lion to act his part. 
 Without a second's delay he rushed upon the sheykh, and, 
 seizing him by his clothing, swung him round and gripped his 
 throat. 
 
 "I have thee, old fox," he hissed, shaking his prisoner 
 gently but with a deft suggestion of worse to come. "This 
 horse is no longer thine. In the name of the Sultan's majesty — 
 may Allah preserve his life for ever ! — I take him from thee. 
 Thou knowest the law. After a little, when the war is over, 
 he will be thine again — if he die not in the meantime, which 
 is very likely, for it is a sorry beast." 
 
 With that he left hold of the old man, sending him reeling 
 against the trunk of a tree, and, gathering up his grand robe, 
 climbed into the saddle. All the men of the inn were now 
 gathered to the spot. Their eyes were fierce upon Said, but 
 fear sealed their lips. The sheykh, recovered from his stupor, 
 grasped the bridle tightly. 
 
 " Yes, it is true, I know the law ! " he screamed. " Thou 
 mayst take my horse — good, since there is war. But first thou 
 must write me a paper of acknowledgment. I am no common 
 man, I warn thee, to be robbed and no questions asked. I 
 have friends in power. Give me, I tell thee, a writing of 
 acknowledgment that I may claim my own when the evil time 
 is past ! " 
 
 Said hesitated, aghast. He had never dreamt of any more 
 
50 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 formality about the levying of a beast of burden for the army 
 than had been observed in the taking of his own donkey. In 
 any case, to give the paper was quite beyond his power, for he 
 could scarcely write. 
 
 " What is this, son of a dog ? " he exclaimed at last. " A 
 paper, sayest thou ? — and the law ? Am I one to take orders 
 from a dog like thee ? As soon as my men arrive with the 
 other beasts thou shalt have thy paper, but not now. Dost 
 hear — eh, old dotard ? Now stand aside or I ride over thee ! 
 I go to meet my followers." 
 
 He urged the horse forward ; but the old man still kept 
 hold of the bridle, and the steed knew his master. His 
 hesitation, and the misgiving which showed a little through 
 his brave mask, had taken something from his prestige with 
 the onlookers. They closed in upon him, clamouring for 
 justice. It was a lonely place ; in all the darkness there was 
 no friend. He began to be afraid. 
 
 " At least the saddle-bags are mine," cried the sheykh, set- 
 ing to work to free them. 
 
 " Fruit and bread and coffee are worth money, O my uncle ! 
 even without syrup of roses and the narghileh," said the 
 master of the khan in tones of blandest remonstrance. As he 
 spoke his face was very near to Said's, and its expression was 
 terribly at variance with the suavity of his utterance. 
 
 All who stood by looked meaningly at one another. " By 
 Allah, the right is with him ! " they exclaimed. " All this is 
 worth money. It is just that he be paid for it* 
 
 Said moved uneasily in his seat. 
 
 "Take thy saddle-bags, old madman ! " he cried. "What 
 are they to me ? As for thee, dog, thou mayest count thyself 
 happy if I send thee not to prison. I saw thee whisper to the 
 sheykh here, and knew that thou wast warning him to be gone 
 quickly with his horse. Thou art no true subject of the 
 Sultan. If I spare thy life it is payment enough." 
 
 At that there was a great outcry from all the group. They 
 beset him angrily with intent to drag him from the saddle. 
 Said felt deadly sick. Only the thought that he was a high 
 officer of the Sultan's army upheld him. Rough hands were 
 already laid upon him, when he shouted " Praise be to Allah ! " 
 very fervently, with joy in his voice. They all drew back in 
 surprise. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 51 
 
 41 Make haste, Ahmed ! — Mustafa ! — Muhammed ! I, your 
 leader, am assailed by robbers. Hassan and Ali, ride fast ! 
 Let Negib, whose horse is lame, take charge of the captured 
 beasts ! I, Said Agha, am in peril of my life ! " 
 
 Turning to the terrified innkeeper and his friends, he said 
 shortly, — 
 
 " Dogs, count yourselves dead ! Hear ye not the sound of 
 hoof-beats?" And digging the sharp corners of the iron 
 stirrups deep into the flanks of the horse he galloped away 
 into the night. The last he saw of his assailants, they were 
 standing huddled together, like silly sheep, half-dead with 
 fright. 
 
IT was evening when Said at last came in sight of the great 
 city. He reined in his horse on the brow of a steep hill, 
 the last wave of the bare brown highlands through which his 
 way had lain all day. Hard by was a little shrine, the crescent 
 fiery above its dome. The sun was just setting among the 
 dark peaks behind him, and the last gleam of day was warm 
 upon the shrine and all the hill-top. Horse and man had a 
 glory at their backs. But beneath, the city and its endless 
 gardens lay already in the lap of night. White domes and 
 minarets, mosques and palaces, loomed wanly in the heart of a 
 vast grove, which stretched, far as the eye could ascertain, to 
 eastward towards a smooth horizon which was the desert. 
 Gathering shades spread a thin veil over all the plain, like the 
 bloom on a purple grape. An amethyst flush suffused the 
 eastern sky — a spirit flush, soft, yet living, wherein starlight 
 and daylight seemed mingled. Said's heart leapt as he beheld 
 the mistress of his dreams, set in her gardens, seeming the 
 fairer and more desirable for the grim, treeless mountains 
 which were her girdle. 
 
 " It is paradise," he murmured in ecstasy. 
 
 At the foot of the hill, on the utmost fringe of the gardens, 
 he could see a little village of flat-roofed houses. A string of 
 camels was drawing near to it along the base of the steep. 
 The tinkle of their bells rippled the twilight cheerily. Of a 
 sudden the noise of chanting arose — a wild, delirious song of 
 piercing shrillness. It came from the high platform of the 
 only minaret of the village. Somewhat mellowed by the 
 distance, it reached Said's ears as heavenly music. The 
 clangour of bells ceased of a sudden. The camels had halted. 
 Their drivers, obedient to the muezzin's call, were prostrate 
 in prayer. 
 
 Said got down from his horse and went through the form 
 
 52 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 53 
 
 of ablution with some dry dust he collected. Taking off his 
 grand garment, a good deal the worse for his five days' wear- 
 ing of it, he stretched it on the ground for a mat. He turned 
 his face carefully to the south and knelt down as near to the 
 shrine as he conveniently might. He raised his thumbs to 
 his ears and spread his hands over his eyes in the likeness of 
 an open book. He rose, stooped, knelt again, prostrated 
 himself and pressed his forehead to the earth. Then he sat 
 awhile upon his heels with eyes closed, and then glanced to 
 left and right, to exorcise any evil spirits who were there- 
 about. 
 
 At last he rose and resumed his cloak. The orange glow 
 of sunset was fading fast, and the mountains he was leaving 
 were black and grey upon it. He bestrode his horse once 
 more and began to descend. It was night when he entered 
 the city. The streets were almost deserted. The few men 
 he met were wending homeward, some in a hurry, others with 
 the leisure of importance. Light streamed fom an arched door- 
 way, making a yellow pool on the rough pavement. A red 
 glow, sifted through the tracery of an upper lattice, made a 
 delicate filigree upon the wall opposite. But for such chance 
 alms the streets were pitchy dark. The strip of sky above, 
 sprinkled thick with stars, was a brightness in comparison. 
 At the clatter of a horse's hoofs, dogs, seemingly without 
 number, rose grudgingly and slunk snarling from the road- 
 way. Every wayfarer had a lantern to light his steps, either / 
 in his own hand or in that of a servant who walked before. 
 
 Anon he came to a region where all the streets had roofs 
 which shut out the sky, save a starry shred here and there 
 where there was a rift in the black covering. Here was more 
 life. A few merchants were yet busy stowing away their wares 
 for the night, black shapes in flowing robes and turbans 
 moving hither and thither about their lanterns. At a place 
 where four of these covered ways met, seeming like corridors 
 in a giant's house, a sentry was standing in the door of his 
 little hut talking to two muleteers. 
 
 The ride through the dim streets had humbled Said. He 
 felt very lonely all at once. In all that wilderness of dwellings 
 there was not one soul who knew him. He would have 
 given much — even his horse, or his brown cloak with the red 
 braiding — to have had Hasneh with him. Fearing he knew 
 
54 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 not what rebuff, he had been ashamed to accost any man 
 hitherto. But now he reined in his horse before the sentry 
 box and, wishing the little group a happy evening, inquired 
 after a khan. One of the muleteers knew a good one and 
 offered to guide him thither. It was plain, by the fervour of 
 their salutations, that they took him for a superior. He began 
 to feel more at ease. It was not far to the hostelry. The 
 muleteer talked glibly all the way, of travelling and of his own 
 journeys in particular. His name it appeared was Selim. He 
 was but lately returned from Haleb the White, and before 
 that he had been to Baghdad with a hundred camels. Whence 
 had his honour come ? From the South ? — from the sea- 
 coast. Ah, he had been there too, having journeyed with a 
 caravan to Gaza, and back by El Khalll and the holy city. It 
 was a pleasant land, the lord of all for oranges ; he had the 
 taste of them yet in his mouth. 
 
 Said lent a gracious ear to his guide's prattle, which 
 relieved him of that feeling of loneliness which was weighing 
 him down. Arrived at the khan, he bestowed a small coin 
 upon the fellow, who blessed him and went his way. 
 
 A bare-legged lad belonging to the inn held his horse 
 while he dismounted, and led it in through an archway. Said 
 followed closely to be sure that the right measure of fodder 
 was given and the beast properly cared for. He entered a 
 huge vaulted chamber, its groined roof upheld by two rows of 
 pillars. Couched upon the ground, big, ungainly camels 
 were pompously chewing the cud, now and then rolling up a 
 deep gurgling sound like a groan from some nether stomach. 
 Horses were there, each fastened with a halter to a ring in 
 the wall. One stallion, a newcomer, was screaming lustily and 
 tugging at his rope. Patient asses with moving ears and 
 swishing tails, and sullen mules whose eyes looked wicked in 
 the lurid glow of the single lantern, were tethered here and 
 there. There was a sound of stamping, of scrunching, and a 
 pungent smell. A little donkey just within the gate lifted up 
 his voice and brayed as Said entered. 
 
 Having seen his steed well placed and provided for, Sai'd 
 followed the serving-lad to a door in the wall, whence light 
 streamed upon a camel's hump. The noise of voices and a 
 smell of cooking also issued from it, soothing two senses with 
 the promise of cheer within. He found himself in a long 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 55 
 
 room with cushions ranged along the wall, lighted by a number 
 of wicks floating in a large saucer full of oil. A numerous 
 company were seated, some smoking and chatting on the 
 divan, others, on isolated cushions, eating ravenously with 
 their hands out of dishes set upon brass trays before them. 
 They all rose in acknowledgment of his salutation and a 
 place of honour was offered to him, which, however, he declined 
 to accept, choosing rather a iowly seat about midway in the 
 room. In an arched alcove or inner room a fire was glowing 
 in a great brazier, whereon were many vessels steaming. 
 
 Said desired a portion of a savoury mess of pigeons and 
 rice, which the bare-legged lad informed him was almost ready. 
 The meal, though proper enough to his fine robe braided 
 with red and the decent horse he rode, was scarcely in keep- 
 ing with the sum of ready money in the linen bag upon his 
 chest. But he had no longer any need of a horse. He would 
 sell his steed on the morrow, and the price he hoped to get 
 for it would keep him in comfort for many months. 
 
 When hunger was appeased, and a tiny cupful of the 
 bitterest coffee had diffused a pleasant warmth within him, 
 he began to take interest in the conversation around him. A 
 big, sanguine fellow, who by his garb seemed a wealthy fellah 
 — the sheykh of some village, perhaps, or a small landowner 
 — was talking excitedly in a loud voice. His large brown 
 eyes, of ox-like stupidity, were bright, but without a spark of 
 cunning. His close-cut beard was reddish like his moustache. 
 
 "My cause is a just one. Also I have set aside much 
 money to secure judgment. My enemy cannot bring forward 
 a single witness in his favour, whereas I have my brother 
 here and my servant who were present at the transaction. It 
 is certain that I shall win." 
 
 He took up the hem of his robe — a rich one though some- 
 what soiled — to wipe the amber mouthpiece of his narghileh. 
 
 "Truly thou art an honest man and a trusting," said a 
 bilious-looking person, short and swarthy, with a sneering 
 smile. " It is well seen thou comest from a far village. As 
 for witnesses, I tell thee thy adversary may have ten for thy 
 two. Thou art rash, young man, to quarrel with one so 
 powerful as the tithe-farmer. Thou hast wealth, it may be, 
 but be sure he is richer than thee. Also he has the ear of 
 the rulers, who profit by his exactions. The Mehkemeh is 
 
56 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 not a house of justice as thou thinkest, but an open market 
 where judgment goes to the heaviest purse. Thou comest 
 from afar ; but I am of the city and speak from knowledge. 
 To-morrow, when thou goest to the court, thou wilt be beset 
 at the gate by a crowd of rascals whose trade is to bear 
 witness for money. Twenty piastres will buy thee a plausible 
 fellow who will swear to aught that pleases thee. The cadi 
 will count the witnesses on either side, and will give judgment 
 for the greater number — if he have not sold his verdict 
 beforehand, which is most likely. Bakshish is lord of all. 
 A wise man does not fall out with the rich. It is the same 
 all the world over. They tell of countries where justice is 
 for rich and poor alike ; but that is all a lie ! " 
 
 He looked round on the faces to mark the effect of his 
 words. Then he leaned back and began to roll a cigarette. 
 
 The young man who had first spoken broke out in fierce 
 invective at such a state of things. Yet he still believed that 
 his own case would prove a big exception. He boasted 
 wildly and a little foolishly of the revenge he would take if 
 judgment were given against him. He even reviled those in 
 authority, so that his listeners murmured, with fear in their 
 eyes. It was ill to speak thus in a public place where none 
 knew his company. The eyes of everyone sought a neigh- 
 bour's in concern. Said above all was singled out for 
 suspicion. His brown cloak of outlandish make, and 
 especially the red braid upon it, had a quasi-official look. 
 It was a relief to all when a fat-faced man with roguish eyes, 
 who sat in the lowest seat and seemed the poorest there, 
 raised his voice in fantastical eulogy of riches. He stood 
 up, and mimicking an advocate or other public speaker, 
 talked nonsense glibly in a high poetic strain. It was rather 
 brilliant nonsense, and it tickled his audience hugely. One 
 and all rolled with laughter, holding their sides. By the 
 time the wag sat down again he was dear as a brother to 
 every man there. As an approved jester he might have 
 taken the seat of honour without offence to the most 
 arrogant. 
 
 After that the talk became less general. Men yawned 
 one after another. Those nearest to Said made overtures of 
 friendship. They asked questions : whence he came, what 
 his name was, whether he had a son, what might be his 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 57 
 
 business in the city, and so forth — questions Said was often 
 puzzled to answer. To escape from their inquisitiveness 
 he declared himself with a yawn to be very weary, and asked 
 to be shown to the place of sleep. One or two of the 
 company had already set the example. He salaamed to the 
 room in general as he went out. 
 
 The same bare-legged youth who had served him on his 
 arrival led him now through the dim stable, among the sleep- 
 ing beasts, to a place where a flight of stone steps was built 
 against the wall. Ascending, he came into a long room like 
 to that he had just left. The lantern his guide carried 
 showed the floor bare save for four mattresses, on which as 
 many men lay stretched, and a heap of dirty bedding in one 
 corner. There was a lattice affording a glimpse of the stars 
 above the uneven blackness of flat-topped roofs. The night 
 air came freely into the chamber — not the sweet breeze of 
 the mountain or the seashore, but a breath of the sleeping 
 city redolent of the day's filth. The lad dragged a mattress 
 and a covering from the heap and spread them close by the 
 window. Then wishing the traveller a happy night, he de- 
 parted. 
 
 Said lay awake a great while. Men came in by ones and 
 twos, spread out their beds and lay down, until the floor was 
 strewn with sleeping forms and the sound of loud snoring in 
 every key floated out melodious into the night. He could 
 not be rid of a feeling that he was still on horseback, riding 
 at a foot's pace over hill and dale, breezy mountain and 
 burning plain. A fear was at his heart — a fear that had been 
 with him always of late, that he might fall in with a band of 
 soldiers who would rob him of his horse even as he had 
 robbed the rightful owner. He had indeed learned from a 
 shepherd lad that there was no war but only a general move- 
 ment of troops changing garrison. But as steeds were needed 
 as much in the one case as in the other, the tidings in no 
 way relieved his mind. By a cautious avoidance of towns 
 and large villages, and choice of a by-path, even though it 
 went a long way round, he had almost doubled the length of 
 his journey, and had approached the city by the way of the 
 hills, whereas the way of the plain was much shorter. 
 
 When at length he fell asleep it was to dream that 
 the whole city had become solid, of a single stone, and that 
 
58 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 he was immured in a little cavity in the midst of it. The 
 stone was populous, swarming with human beings who gave 
 no heed to his cries. There were endless tunnels thronged 
 with wayfarers, all bearing lanterns — a nation which had 
 never seen the sun. The weight of the whole stone was 
 somehow upon him. He called to Allah for relief; but the 
 thickness of that stone was inconceivable, and Allah very 
 far away, However, the face of Muhammed the Prophet 
 (peace be to him !) — a fat sly face like Abdullah's — looked in 
 upon him and sternly remarked, "It is Paradise." Then 
 arose a terrible cry for bakshish, and Said knew that the 
 stone was no other than a court of law. 
 
XI 
 
 SAID awoke, as soon as it began to be light, to find the 
 chamber already half empty of sleepers. His forehead 
 was clouded as he went down the flight of stone steps into 
 the stable and threaded his way gingerly among the beasts 
 and merchandise. His mind was busy laying plans for the 
 day. There was much to be done. His horse must first be 
 sold, and then he must look out for a lodging in keeping 
 with his means. He must be on his guard every minute, for 
 the dwellers in towns have ready wits and love to whet them 
 on a stranger. 
 
 The ghost of daylight, looking in at the arched doorway, 
 cast a pallor on the stumpy columns, on the humps and heads 
 of camels, on the glossy flanks of horses and mules. He 
 made his way to where his own steed was standing listless, 
 awaiting the morning's dole of chaff and barley. A soft neigh 
 and a pricking of the ears welcomed him. He smoothed the 
 horse's mane lovingly, patted its neck and rubbed its nose, 
 whispering all manner of endearment. It was a good beast, 
 and he was sad to part with it. 
 
 In the guest-room he found the young man who had 
 spoken so rashly overnight seated on the floor at a meal of 
 bread, curds and olives. A handsome lad of sixteen or 
 thereabouts, whom a strong likeness proclaimed his brother, 
 sat with him, eating from the same tray. At a becoming 
 distance their servant — a swarthy, fierce-eyed fellow, whose 
 weather-beaten tarbush had lost its tassel — squatted on his 
 bare heels awaiting their pleasure. Said greeted them politely 
 before shouting for something to eat. While a servant who 
 answered his cry was pouring water over his hands and help- 
 ing to dry them on a dirty cloth, the voice of the young man 
 rose in flowered eloquence. 
 
 He was rehearsing the speech he meant to make before 
 59 
 
60 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 the cadi. It must have been written for him by some learned 
 scribe skilled in all the bewilderment of tangled words ; for 
 no plain man could lay hold of its meaning. It was all of 
 one piece from first syllable to last, and as it was recited, or 
 rather intoned, there was no telling where one thought ended 
 and the other began. Said's mouth fell agape with admira- 
 tion. He listened spell-bound, forgetful even of his breakfast. 
 Once or twice the orator, rinding himself at a loss, drew a 
 scroll from the bosom of his robe and passed his finger along 
 and down it till he came to the passage. Then he replaced 
 the scroll and went on with renewed fervour. 
 
 " Capital ! " cried the servant, when a complacent grin of 
 his master announced the end. " In all my life I have heard 
 nothing like it. It speaks with the mouth of the Coran, with 
 the voice of an angel. It would melt the heart of the Chief 
 of Mountains, by Allah! Rejoice, O my master, for our 
 cause is won ! " 
 
 " Good — very good ! " said the younger brother, his face 
 eager with impatience. " Is it not the hour when we should 
 repair to the Mehkemeh ? " 
 
 Said also lent his voice to swell the chorus of praise. 
 Such a speech, he protested, would grace the lips of princes. 
 It was polished as a tray of gold, exquisite as a mosaic of 
 divers kinds of precious stones, sweet as the voices of girls 
 singing to the sound of the one-stringed lute. The ear of 
 Allah would not disdain it. This high praise, which was 
 perfectly sincere of its kind, flattered the orator and his boyish 
 brother. Even the surly henchman looked at Said with 
 grudging approval. The chief of the party informed him 
 graciously that he had procured the speech of a scribe 
 renowned in all the city for his learning, and that it had cost 
 him a pretty sum of money, which he named. If his enemy 
 could produce a better he would be surprised, and so forth. 
 11 Moreover," he added, with a smile of such doltish cunning 
 that Said envied his opponent— " moreover, I have laid out 
 much money already among the servants of authority, and I 
 have here a great sum to be expended in the court itself. It 
 is sure that I shall win." 
 
 "There is no doubt !" his companions chimed in, the one 
 eagerly, the other with a kind of sullen defiance. 
 
 "No doubt— not a shred of doubt," echoed Said, his bear- 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 61 
 
 ing very respectful of a sudden as he heard the jingle of coins 
 in the sack which the young man opened his robe to show him. 
 
 His fast fairly broken, he called for the reckoning. The 
 lord of the khan appeared — a very fat man wearing a robe of 
 indigo blue, under which dirty white pantaloons showed to his 
 ankles, the reddest of red slippers, and a girdle of many colours 
 which, instead of restraining his bulk at all, bulged out frankly 
 upon the most obvious part of him. His turban was richly 
 embroidered, but old and dingy. His demeanour was im- 
 portant but polite, as became a substantial host requiring pay- 
 ment of a guest of unknown quality. The amount was twelve 
 piastres, he informed the effendi. After a little fruitless haggl- 
 ing, which only served to hurt the feelings of mine host and 
 turn him to a boulder of dignity, Said discharged his debt and 
 took leave of the hopeful litigant and his supporters. 
 
 Passing out into the stable he found the bare-legged lad of 
 last night zealously brushing his nag's mane and flanks. At a 
 word he left work and fetched the saddle and bridle from a 
 heap of trappings in a nook of the wall. 
 
 A group of camels were being laden from a heap of bales 
 which stood piled round one of the pillars. The cursing of 
 their drivers, three in number, was very lusty, as they made 
 them kneel, then rise and kneel again, to get them into position. 
 The foremost of them, already accommodated with a load, stood 
 across the doorway, blocking it. An oath from Said, ably 
 seconded by the bare-legged stable-boy, called forth a perfect 
 storm from the camel-drivers, one of whom ran forward and 
 led the unwieldy beast to one side. The horse was taken out 
 on to the causeway. Allah, who was being invoked within the 
 archway to blast and utterly destroy the father, religion and 
 offspring of the half-dozen camels there lading, was humbly 
 asked to increase Said's wealth as that worthy rode off leav- 
 ing a trifle in the brown palm of the hostler. 
 
 The long, roofed bazaar, from which others just like it 
 branched to right and left, was already busy with people going 
 to their day's work. A coolness of the empty night still hung 
 in its shadow, but that shadow was no longer grey and thin, 
 but blue and deep, telling of a young sun reddening the roofs 
 above. It was early yet to think of selling his horse; so Said 
 rode forward at his ease, bent on viewing the city, taking this 
 turning or that as fancy prompted. 
 
62 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Stalls were opening everywhere in the shady markets. 
 Shutters were opened, bars removed, goods displayed. Mer- 
 chants were settling themselves in dim nooks like caverns 
 behind their wares. The ways were choked with a humming, 
 gaily-coloured crowd. Cries of *' Oah ! Oah ! Look out on 
 your right — on your left ! " came in shrill tones or hoarse, as 
 men with asses or mules forced a way through the press. 
 Sweet, languorous odours, wafted from the shop of a vendor 
 of perfumes, a whiff of musk from the shroud of some passing 
 woman, the fragrance of tobacco, a dewy breath of the gardens 
 from a mule's panniers crammed with vegetables — little puffs 
 of sweetness were alternate in Said's nostrils with the reek of 
 dirty garments and ever-perspiring humanity, with vile stenches 
 from dark entries, where all that is foulest of death and decay 
 was flung to glut the scavenger dogs that slept, full-gorged, by 
 dozens in every archway and along every wall. Said inhaled 
 sweet and foul alike with a relish as part of the city's enchant- 
 ment. 
 
 He looked about him as he rode with wondering delight, 
 shouting always " Oah ! Oah ! " as a warning to the multitude 
 whose din drowned the clatter of hoofs. The greatness and 
 the glory of it surpassed his dreams. Here was a whole bazaar 
 wide, long and lofty, possessed exclusively by the workers in 
 precious metals ; another by the sweetmeat sellers ; a third by 
 those who inlay wood with mother-of-pearl ; a fourth by those 
 who sell rugs — rich carpets of all the hues of the garden, of 
 every make, from Bukhra and Khorassan, from Mecca and 
 Baghdad and El Ajem. In one street he caught glimpses, 
 through mean doorways, of precious stuffs, fine silks embossed 
 and embroidered, the work of a lifetime. In the next there 
 was nothing but the noise of grinding, chiselling and planing 
 as the joiners squatted at their work, with the breath of the 
 crowd in their faces. 
 
 He passed out of the shade of the covered bazaars and 
 came at length to a place where the sun shone blinding on the 
 ornate gateway of a mosque. Doves wheeled overhead about 
 a tall and graceful minaret, which tapered dazzling white upon 
 the dazzling blue, pointing to the heart of the great sapphire 
 dome, to the throne of Allah himself. Through the archway 
 he could see a flock of them strutting and pecking on the 
 mosaic pavement of a cloistered court. Their cooing brought 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 63 
 
 the inner stillness to him in spite of the noisy crowd, like a 
 voice in a bubble of silence. 
 
 He rode on, rejoicing in the fierce sunlight and the peace- 
 ful shadows, in all the busy throng around him. 
 
 It began to be very hot, and he had been long riding. 
 The cry of a certain vendor of iced drinks, who was elbowing 
 his way through the crowd, clasping a huge bottle of greenish- 
 yellow fluid and clinking two cups together as cymbals, was 
 like the voice of an angel calling him. 
 
 " O snow of the mountain ! How pure art thou, and how 
 cold ! O juice of the lemon ! how refreshing when mingled 
 cunningly with sugar as in my bottle ! O drink of paradise, 
 who could refuse thee? May Allah have pity on him who 
 drinks not of this cup ! " 
 
 Said drank of it and smacked his lips afterwards. In truth 
 it was refreshing. He paid the smallest of coins — it was all 
 the ministering angel asked for his elixir — into the dirtiest of 
 hands, and received the parting blessing. 
 
 " May Allah have mercy on thy belly ! " 
 
 Then he bethought him that it was time he took some step 
 towards selling his horse. He had been quite happy till then, 
 drifting with the tide of inclination, having no aim beyond 
 sight-seeing. But the moment he came to harbour a definite 
 purpose he felt crestfallen and ill at ease. The multitude, with 
 which he had but now mingled lovingly as a brother, seemed 
 to fall back from him of a sudden, becoming heartless and in- 
 different. He felt bewildered as his eyes strayed over number- 
 less eager faces, seeking some person not too busy to answer 
 a question. All at once, even as he drew rein irresolute, his 
 hand was seized and kissed, and a man's voice hailed him with 
 cheerful deference. 
 
 " May thy day be happy, O my master ! " 
 
 " May thy day be happy and blessed ! " returned Said, 
 graciously. 
 
 It was Selim, the muleteer who had been his guide to the 
 khan. The encounter was timely. Said straightway questioned 
 him as to the best place for a man to go who was wishful to 
 sell a horse to the best advantage. Selim had the whole day 
 on his hands. On his head, he was at Said's service. He 
 would lead him to a place which had not its like in all the 
 world for horse-selling ; it was the lord of all such places, by 
 
64 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Allah ! He would not conduct the effendi to a low place, of 
 which there were many — no, by his beard, but to the best of 
 all. He had a great respect for the effendi, and, to be sure, 
 the horse was a good horse, deserving to be sold in the best 
 market. 
 
 He took Said's bridle and led him out of the throng and 
 the sunlight into a maze of by-ways, narrow, dark and dirty. 
 There were archways, short tunnels, sleeping dogs and evil 
 smells. Said saw many women with their faces uncovered. 
 Most of the men also in this region wore the fez alone, or, if a 
 turban, it was informal, of black or grey. He feasted his eyes 
 on the charms of the maids and matrons with lazy contempt. 
 They were Christians, unbelievers and accursed. Yet men 
 and women walked bravely in the middle of the causeway, and 
 were in no haste to humble themselves before a true believer 
 and one that rode upon a horse. 
 
 Referring to his guide for enlightenment, — 
 
 "This is the Nazarene quarter," replied the muleteer. 
 "Here, by the mercy of the Sultan, the infidels are suffered to 
 live apart under a chief of their own religion. It is their 
 ancient privilege, and none grudged it them of old, when the 
 dogs were meek and obedient to the law. In those days they 
 were not abhorred by the faithful, who lived peacefully with 
 them, claiming only the right of the conqueror. But now that 
 they grow fat and insolent, because of the Frankish consuls 
 who pamper them, they are become loathsome as Jews in our 
 sight. The fault is with the consuls, who shield and abet them 
 in whatever they do. The worst of them will tell you that they 
 are French subjects or Muscovite, and will show papers to that 
 effect given them by the consul. Your grace marvels — not 
 so ? — to hear a common man discourse of such high matters. 
 Know, O effendi, that Selim speaks not of his own knowledge" 
 — he twitched the hem of his robe lightly to shake off any dust 
 of responsibility that might cling to it. " He has kept silence 
 in the tavern while wise men spoke, and the ears of Sellm 
 carried something of the matter to his understanding. More- 
 over, it would be hard to find a man in all the city at present, 
 be he notable or beggar, true believer, or Nazarene, or Jew, who 
 is not possessed with politics as with a devil." 
 
 Said, whose ears had given heed, though his eyes were 
 wandering, frowned terribly as his guide ceased speaking. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 65 
 
 "It were a righteous deed," he said, " to slay every dog of 
 them and bum their quarter with fire." There was fierce 
 light in his eyes. 
 
 "Ah!" said the muleteer, "but the Franks are powerful 
 and their vengeance would be dire. As thou knowest, the 
 French and English gave aid to the Turks in the late 
 Muscovite war, and in return they claim to govern the Sultan's 
 realm instead of him. True believers are but as dogs in their 
 sight, and they would set up a Nazarene in every high place. 
 Allah ! have mercy ! Alas for the evil day that has dawned 
 for the faith ! " 
 
 But the light in Said's eyes was no other than the greed of 
 gain. He was a strong man, not without courage. He would 
 gladly slay a man, whether armed or defenceless, a woman, or 
 even a child in the cause of Allah and the Prophet. But he 
 could not forget that these Christians were rich. His mind's 
 eye saw a heap of gold in the darkness of every squalid entry. 
 Also the women were fine and plump. His lips were yet dry 
 from the sight of a pretty girl who had smiled up at him in 
 passing. Truly, it would be a pleasant and a holy thing to 
 harry these unbelievers with fire and sword. 
 
XII 
 
 " O POKE I not truly, O my master, when I said it was a 
 i^ fine place ? The greatest of the city come here each 
 day to hear the news and see what horses are for sale. With 
 thy leave, I will stay with thee. It is not seemly that a man 
 of thy condition should be seen without a servant." 
 
 A lofty and ruinous gateway gave access to a sort of lawn, 
 worn bare of grass in many places. All round, near to the 
 walls of houses, trees threw great blots of shade over a crowd 
 of richly-dressed persons — Turkish officers in high fezzes and 
 their best uniforms ; grave merchants and notables, robed in 
 finest silk, with close-cropped beards and deep-embroidered 
 turbans ; one or two men in the official black frock coat and 
 red tarbush, and a sprinkling of undoubted Europeans in light 
 suits with queer-shaped hats upon their heads. All these were 
 standing in groups or strolling up and down watching a wild- 
 looking Bedawi and a groom of the town vie with each other 
 in feats of horsemanship. 
 
 Sellm drew close to the saddle-bow as they entered the 
 enclosure. "Effendi!" he whispered, "it were well for thee 
 to dismount here and let me go forward with the horse. It 
 is easier for the servant to raise the price than for the master. 
 Selim cannot decide, it is understood, without first consulting 
 thee. Be haughty, O my master, and show thyself hard to 
 please ! Sellm will take care to exalt thee in the ears of all 
 who question him concerning the horse. So men shall know 
 that thou art a great one, and shall be ashamed to offer a 
 small sum." 
 
 The advice seeming good to Said, he alighted and gave the 
 rope-bridle into the hand of his follower. 
 
 "Allah be with thee!" he said. "The saddle and the 
 bridle go into the bargain; I have no more need of them. 
 And forget not to make much of the horse ! * 
 
 66 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 67 
 
 " Have no fear, O my master ! Sellm is a subtle man, 
 well skilled in this kind of business. By Allah, though, it is a 
 pity he is not a mare. A stallion may be strong, swift, beauti- 
 ful, of the best blood of the desert, but he is not productive 
 like a mare. A good mare in foal would fetch a vast price 
 here, effendi. Ah, my beloved, if thou hadst but been a 
 mare ! " He laid his cheeks to the horse's pink nostrils 
 lovingly. Then, with a rousing pat between the eyes, he led 
 him away towards where the Bedawi and his rival were 
 galloping madly to and fro in the blinding sun, pulling up 
 short within a hand's-breadth of the wall, so that the steeds 
 were hurled back on their haunches, shouting and yelling all 
 the while as though their lives depended on it. 
 
 Said, for his part, bent his steps to the nearest tree, where 
 was a group of loungers in the shade, walking slowly with care 
 for his dignity. Never before had he mixed in such high 
 company, and he felt awkward. But ere he had achieved 
 many steps there was the sound of hoofs muffled by the rank 
 grass, and Sehm stood again at his elbow. 
 
 " Look, effendi ! " he said, pointing with his finger. 
 11 Seest thou the old man yonder ? — he of the snowy turban 
 and the striped cloak, black and white. It is a Durzi, one of 
 the nation of the Druz — whether from the Hauran or from the 
 Mountain, Allah knows. A strange race, O my master ! — thou 
 hast doubtless heard speak of them. I bethought me that, 
 being a stranger from afar, thou mightest like to see a true 
 Durzi; that is why I come back to thee. They are our 
 brothers in that matter of the Nazarenes of which we were 
 speaking, and they are strong in war. They love not the 
 Mowarni, their neighbours on the Mountain, who call them- 
 selves subjects of the French, and are very arrogant. Men 
 say that there are threatenings of war between them. Look 
 well at him, effendi. Mark how proud he stands. By the 
 Coran he is the finest old man I ever saw. He is lord of all 
 here by a head." 
 
 Said admitted to have heard much talk of that strange 
 race, of whom the very Government stood in awe, and even to 
 have spoken with some of them on his journey. He agreed 
 with Selim that he had never met so noble-looking an old 
 man as this sheykh in the black and white cloak, who, though 
 his long beard was almost as white as his turban, yet stood 
 
68 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 alert and upright as if still in the prime of youth. He held a 
 fine stallion, black as charcoal, by the bridle \ and some young 
 men of the city, who were examining the horse's parts, looked 
 oafish beside him for all their fine apparel. As Said took his 
 stand on the outskirts of the little crowd of grandees his eyes 
 were still observant of that stately figure. The black charger 
 was every whit as admirable as his master. The old Durzi 
 must be mad, Said thought, or very short, indeed, of money to 
 wish to sell a horse like that. He himself would not have 
 parted with such an animal for all the wealth of Istanbul. 
 The small head, the watchful eye, the listening ears, the dis- 
 tended nostrils, the strong, arched neck, the tail falling like a 
 cascade, not hanging limp between the buttocks; a dainty 
 trick of pawing the ground and prancing from mere pride of 
 life — the charm of these things took Said's breath away. 
 
 He was standing just within the shade of a great tree, 
 about whose trunk the loungers clustered most thickly. Along 
 the foot of a sun-baked wall beyond, roses, a little thicket of 
 them, tangled like brambles over a brash of fallen stones and 
 other refuse. The pink of blossoms among their dusty leaves 
 was lustreless, veiled as in haze by the white glare from the 
 wall. Their perfume reached Said faintly on that light breeze 
 which springs up about the third hour of the day and breathes 
 its fullest at noon. 
 
 The Bedawi had ceased his mad gallop in the sun's eye 
 and was now busy scraping the foam from his horse's flanks 
 with a piece of wood. Selim had taken his place as rival of 
 the town-bred groom, and the pair were careering about like 
 madmen. Said shouted to him not to tire the horse — a cry 
 which drew the attention of those who stood near. He caught 
 a whisper : " He is a soldier — not so ? " and knew, with a 
 beating heart, that the red braiding of his robe was being 
 canvassed. Then he heard a Turkish officer say, " It is but 
 a mockery of our uniform paletot. That is no soldier's 
 garment, by Allah ! " He knew the speaker for an officer by 
 the clatter of a sword which preceded and followed the words, 
 and for a Turk by the way he pronounced Arabic. But he 
 did not turn his head or let it be known he had overheard. 
 When at length he risked a backward glance it was to find 
 that most of the company had moved away, leaving only a 
 young officer and two Franks. They were talking lightly 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 69 
 
 together, and seemed perfectly heedless of him or his 
 clothes. 
 
 Presently, however, a laugh affronted his ears. It was a 
 Frank's laugh or an idiot's, being very loud and quite devoid 
 of understanding. Said felt uneasy but did not change his 
 position, nor turn his head the fraction of an inch. Only he 
 strained his ears to listen. Both the Franks were laughing 
 now, and the sound of their mirth was like the braying of twin 
 asses. They were trying to explain something to the Turk in 
 a strange tongue. At last the officer seemed to understand, 
 for he laughed too — not the meaningless laughter of the other 
 two, but a subtle guffaw full of appreciation. Then he stepped 
 forward and touched Said's shoulder. 
 
 "By thy leave, uncle" — the familiarity of this style of 
 address was gall and wormwood to the fisherman — " I would 
 ask thee a question. The Khawajdt, my friends, marvel much 
 at this garment of thine. It is the work of their country, they 
 aver, and one which no Frank wears outside his own house ; 
 it being proper only to the harim and the sleeping-room. They 
 are curious to know for what reason, whether from ignorance 
 or of any set purpose, thou wearest it before all men in a 
 public place." 
 
 Then Said, with hot shame and confusion at his heart, 
 lifted up his voice and laughed — a laugh even louder and 
 more empty than that of the Franks. 
 
 " It was a famous trick," he cried, " Oh, that rascal ! He 
 is a very devil for cunning ! Listen, O Khawajat, and thou 
 also, O my lord the Bek ! I am a man of consequence in my 
 own city, but it is far from here. I set out to come hither in 
 order to get the inheritance of my brother, who is dead. In 
 the way I passed by the door of a Frank — a priest he was, 
 dressed all in black. He called to me to enter and rest 
 awhile, and, as it was the heat of the day, I got down off my 
 horse and sat with him. While we awaited the coffee, he 
 brought this garment to show me, swearing by all his prophets, 
 whom he counts as gods, that it was a robe of price such as 
 kings wear in his country. He wished to sell it, and as he 
 had taken a fancy to me — ah, the devil ! — he would let me 
 have it for five hundred piastres. It was equal to giving it, 
 he said, but he loved me like a brother and so would let me 
 have it for that money. So I, desiring the robe greatly (for 
 
70 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 I believed his words, that it was a fine rarity), and having 
 much money with me, paid the price at once, and put on 
 the garment, which in truth is pleasant to wear. Ah, the 
 joker ! he befooled me perfectly." 
 
 The Turk laughed long and merrily. He was at pains to 
 translate the story for the benefit of his Frankish friends. One 
 of these, whose face had somewhat the colour of a pome- 
 granate flower, insisted on grasping Said's hand and snaking 
 it, which is a manner of friendly greeting with the Pranks. 
 He laughed heartily with his mouth wide open, staring into 
 Said's face with stupid blue eyes. His companion, who kept 
 his face — pink and white, like a painted woman's — carefully 
 shaded by a very broad-brimmed hat, held a little aloof, but 
 laughed heartily too. The moustache of this latter was 
 yellow like straw. 
 
 Said submitted to the indignity of having his hand 
 squeezed to a jelly and his arm all but wrenched from its 
 socket with as good a grace as might be, consoling himself 
 with the thought that the Franks are all possessed with devils. 
 He was quite in the dark as to the meaning of it all till the 
 officer spoke to enlighten him. 
 
 " It is because thou art a merry fellow, O my uncle. 
 My friend here loves thee because thou smilest in mis- 
 fortune and art not angry that a trick has been played with 
 thee." 
 
 At that Said grinned broadly and pressed the Frank's 
 hand with all his might, working it up and down until he 
 cried laughingly, " Enough ! enough ! " that being one of the 
 few words of Arabic which he knew. 
 
 " Why art thou here, O my uncle ? " asked the Turk. 
 
 II Hast come to buy a horse ? Yonder is a fine one, which the 
 old Durzi is holding." 
 
 " No, my lord the Bek, I am come to sell a horse," re- 
 turned Said, with dignity. " My servant leads him yonder in 
 the shade of the tree. It is a good horse, not so much for 
 fantasy as for travelling. There is not his equal for a long 
 journey. I myself have ridden him lately for five days; 
 that is why he looks a little thin. It grieves me to have to 
 sell him." 
 
 The Turk imparted the substance of what was said to his 
 two friends. There followed a short conversation between the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 71 
 
 three, of which Said understood nothing. Then the officer 
 said, — 
 
 11 My friend the khawaja has need of a stout horse to carry 
 him on a journey he is about to make into the desert. With 
 thy leave he would like to examine this beast of thine." 
 
 It was a wonderful stroke of luck for Said, and he saw a 
 special providence in it. He ceased not from praising Allah 
 until the day was far spent and shadows covered all the 
 streets. In a word, the scarlet-faced idiot bought the horse 
 and paid for it, there in the open field, out of a purse that he 
 carried, no less than fourteen English pounds. The by- 
 standers sneered openly at the deed of folly. The Turk 
 strove to reason with his friend, but the Frank was bent on 
 paying the price first asked, which he seemed to think a low 
 one, though Said, if beaten down to it, would have taken the 
 half. The old Druze, who had just refused ten pounds Turk 
 for the splendid animal he held, spoke loudly in envy of Said's 
 good fortune. SeUm went mad with delight. To crown all, 
 the Frank, having paid the treasure into Said's hand, must 
 grasp that hand again, and shake it almost to the time-limit of 
 the fisherman's patience, for the bystanders were laughing in 
 their beards. 
 
 Then, with a light heart, Said bade Sellm lead the way fr* 
 some coffee-house of good repute. 
 
XIII 
 
 FROM shortly after noon to the eleventh hour Said sat 
 with his attendant in a tavern, debating what was next 
 to be done, praising Allah, and dozing between whiles over a 
 narghileh. The place was cool and dark, like a large cellar. 
 What light there was stole upon the gloom through the low 
 doorway from a shadowy alley without. It wakened a bluish 
 sheen on the rim of a great copper vessel, and paled the faces 
 of those who sat nearest to the entry. Behind, in the heart 
 of the gloom, a fire of live charcoal burned redly. Warm 
 steam, charged with the earthy fragrance of coffee stewing, 
 floated among the guests in search of an outlet. About 
 twenty men were there, seated on little stools or lying on the 
 ground. Some few were talking earnestly in low tones, but 
 the greater part were dozing or fast asleep. The fisherman 
 and his humble admirer sat in the darkest corner, away from 
 the fire. 
 
 " Let it be as thou askest ! " quoth Said, at length, after a 
 long silence of consideration. " I hire thee as my servant for 
 one month. If thou art good and faithful in all things, thou 
 shalt be to me as a dear friend, and I will take care of thy 
 prosperity. It is agreed — not so ? Sixty piastres shall be thy 
 wage for the month of probation, and after that we will speak 
 again of the matter. Thou eatest and drinkest at my cost. 
 See ! I pay thee at this minute, so full is the trust I place in 
 thee." 
 
 Selim bowed low over the hand which enriched him — a 
 hand horny and grimed as his own — and kissed it fervently. 
 " May thy wealth increase ! " he said. H Now truly, I am very 
 happy. A muleteer's life is the life of a dog, and in the end 
 he dies the death of a dog by the wayside ; often there is no 
 burial for him. Many a time has Selim said in his mind, • O 
 mind, it were well to leave this dog's business and cleave to 
 
 72 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 73 
 
 some great one as his servant.' Allah requite thee, O my 
 master, for I am very happy ! " 
 
 Said proposed that they should go out straightway and seek 
 some decent room for a lodging, but Selim dissuaded him. 
 
 " It is best," he said, " that your honour return presently to 
 the khan. Thou art rich, and the khan is a good one, the 
 resort of great ones. While thou art resting I will go to a 
 place I know, where all manner of news is to be had. I will 
 inquire warily what rooms are to let, and what price would be 
 accepted by their owners. Then, in the morning, I will bring 
 thee the fruit of my gleaning. It is ill to buy or hire anything 
 in a hurry. Selim is a knowing one. Trust him, O my 
 master, and wait a little ! " 
 
 " I needs must buy a new robe," muttered Said. " I have 
 told thee how the Franks yonder, in the garden, did laugh at 
 this garment of mine — a good garment and comfortable; it 
 cost me six Turkish pounds. There are many Franks, thou 
 Bayest, in the city, and I have no mind to abide their 
 mockery. Up, O Selim ! Let us go straightway to the shop 
 of a tailor ! " 
 
 " Rise not, I beseech thee, O my master. It is not fitting 
 that a man of thy consequence should go to a shop and on 
 foot. Moreover, by thy leave, a vendor of garments ready- 
 made is better than a tailor since thy need is pressing. Abide 
 here a short while and I will bring one hither." 
 
 Said rendered warm praise to Allah who had given him a 
 servant of such a ready wit. 
 
 It seemed but a minute ere a shadow darkened the entry 
 —the figure of a tall man clad in a loose robe from neck to 
 ankles, carrying a large bundle. The voice of Selim cried, 
 " Behold the merchant, O my lord !" 
 
 The tall man saluted gravely as Said brought his stool to 
 the doorway, where there was more light. Setting down his 
 bundle upon the ground he proceeded at once to undo it. 
 It contained a number of garments, which he held up one by 
 one, shook out, stroked lovingly, and lauded to the skies. 
 One of them chained Said's fancy from the first. It was a 
 loose-falling robe similar to that worn by the merchant, tight 
 sleeved, and buttoning close at the neck. It was of silk and 
 cotton mixed, finely striped in blue and yellow. The 
 merchant, observant of the customer's face, swore by the 
 
74 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Coran that it would grace his Excellency rarely. It was just 
 the thing for a tall, fine, strong, noble-looking man like his 
 Excellency. Though he searched through the whole city he 
 would find no robe so perfectly becoming to him as this one. 
 All the idlers in the tavern, having nothing else to do, were 
 drawn near to admire the rich stuffs and witness the bargain. 
 With no idea of purchasing, and, therefore, no reason for 
 depreciating what they saw, they joined their voices in chorus 
 to that of the merchant, and praised the garment as a miracle 
 of workmanship. 
 
 " Let Selim alone to do the chaffering, effendi ! " whispered 
 the sometime muleteer in his master's ear. And again Said 
 had cause to praise Allah for his servant's wit. For Selim 
 drew the salesman apart and spoke fiercely with him for the 
 space of a quarter of an hour, eyes flaming into eyes, like men 
 on the point of shedding each other's blood. At the end of 
 that time they returned smiling, the best of friends, to inform 
 Said that the garment was his for fifty piastres, though the 
 merchant swore loudly by the beard of the Prophet it was worth 
 twice that amount. He would not have let it go so cheap to 
 any other than his Excellency, but to oblige his Excellency he 
 would make any sacrifice. In return, he craved the favour 
 of his Excellency's further custom, in case at any time he 
 should stand in need of fine raiment. The greatest of the 
 city were his patrons : Mahmud Effendi, his Reverence the 
 Mufti, His Highness Abdul Cader, the renowned Emir of 
 Eljizar, even the illustrious Ahmed Pasha, the Waly himself! 
 It was true. If his Excellency doubted it he had but to put 
 the question to any man there present who would certify him 
 that it was so. And all they that stood by, being indeed 
 perfectly ignorant of the matter, testified, with hands on their 
 breasts, and eyes upturned, to the merchant's honour. 
 
 Selim received the garment neatly folded and nursed it 
 lovingly, while his master gave an English pound into the 
 merchant's hand and counted the change for it. Then, when 
 the merchant had taken wordy leave, they repaired together 
 to the khan, it being then the cool of the evening, about the 
 eleventh hour. 
 
 In the vaulted chamber cumbered with beasts and 
 merchandise Said stayed to divest himself of the brown 
 robe braided with red which had so lately been his pride, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 75 
 
 and the kirtle of blue which was beneath it, retaining only 
 his vest and pantaloons, which years ago had been white. 
 He gave the discarded clothes to his servant for bakshish, 
 to the muleteer's unbounded glee. Selim assumed the dress- 
 ing-gown forthwith, stroked it feelingly and moaned with 
 delight. The blue shift, which was an old one but serviceable, 
 he stowed in the sack of his trousers. Then he flung himself 
 on the ground and fell to kissing Said's feet very fervently, 
 with broken exclamations of thanks and blessing. Said chid 
 him for it, commanding him to get up on pain of his dis- 
 pleasure ; but at heart he was well pleased. The cup of his 
 grandeur seemed full to the brim at that minute. For the 
 first time in his life he had played the patron. 
 
 As he was adjusting his new robe, Selim helping him, a 
 sound of mighty cursing rose upon his ears. It came from 
 the door of the guest-chamber, where a lamp was burning 
 already. - Said stood a moment to listen, then entered, Selim 
 at his heels. 
 
 The young man who had declaimed that famous speech 
 so hopefully in the morning was now the centre of a concerned 
 group, roaring, his face distorted, in a towering rage. 
 
 " May Allah cut short his life ! May the Cadi rot and all 
 his race with him ! May Allah destroy that wicked scribe from 
 off the face of the earth ! . . . Heard ye ever the like of it ? 
 I pay a great price for a writing to lead my tongue when the 
 time should come for me to speak in the Mehkemeh. I give 
 the half of my wealth to that foul pig of a scribe. And when 
 I reach the court, behold the very same words almost in the 
 mouth of my enemy. He has the first word ; therefore my 
 speech is valueless — a mere scroll to burn. I go to that 
 scribe of Satan, and he smiles in his beard. Two men came 
 to him in one day. How was he to know them for opponents 
 in one suit? He laughs. . . . By Allah! he may think himself 
 happy if I slay him not for refusing to give back the money." 
 
 At this point Said withdrew to the far end of the room 
 that he might chuckle unobserved. He was fervid in his 
 whispered admiration of that scribe; and Selim agreed that 
 it was a quaint and merry trick, though of opinion that the 
 money should be returned. 
 
 The young litigant, his frenzy spent, fell to moaning most 
 pitifully and bewailing his wretched fate. 
 
76 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "Add to all this," he blubbered, "that the hearing is not 
 yet over. Judgment is deferred till to-morrow; and I have 
 wasted my money — all that I brought with me — save only a 
 few piastres which I set aside for the expenses of food and 
 lodging. I have nothing left to buy witnesses for to-morrow. 
 . . . My cause is lost ! . . . Merciful Allah ! I am ruined." 
 
 " A zany ! " whispered Said to his henchman. " But for 
 such blockheads as this, I ask thee, how should wise men 
 prosper?" He called loudly to the servant to bring some- 
 thing good to eat, and after that was silent for a space, his 
 mouth being full for the most part. He made a favour of 
 allowing Selim to eat with him, though in truth he was most 
 glad of the company. At last, having swallowed a dose of 
 seething, bitter coffee, brought straight from the brazier by 
 the bare-legged one, he gave utterance to his repletion and 
 ordered a narghileh. 
 
 Now Said, being full and his mind vacant of business, 
 began to indulge a feeling not uncommon with the great and 
 prosperous. His soul inclined to dalliance and the joys of 
 female society. He wished that Hasneh was there ; but not 
 for long. The delights of the city must be many, and Hasneh 
 had been his for seven years, so that there was no more sweet- 
 ness left in her. Moreover, she had failed in her duty of child- 
 bearing. He had long purposed to supplement her with 
 another woman as soon as he should be rich enough. He 
 looked at Selim, who was still busy gobbling oily rice, with 
 both hands cramming his mouth. Then he whispered a 
 question, slily watchful of his servant's face. 
 
 "No, by Allah!" the other sputtered with indignation. 
 " Your honour mistakes. Selim is not that kind of man. I 
 would do all things to serve thee, O my master; but lead 
 thee to such a place, I cannot." 
 
 " Thou mistakest my meaning," whispered Said, soothingly. 
 " I never supposed thee other than an honest man — never I — 
 if it were my last word : never ! I did but seek thy counsel, 
 being a stranger in the city." 
 
 Selim was soon mollified. 
 
 " That is a very different thing, O my master ; but in truth 
 1 know nothing of such matters. There are nouses in the 
 Christian and Jewish quarters — Ah, the wicked unbelievers ! 
 It was a good word thou spakest about destroying them. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 77 
 
 There are houses, I say, where women sing and dance by 
 night. There be Nazarenes in all the taverns who will guide 
 thee to them for money. But I advise thee not to go ; for 
 evil men abound in those places. At the least, if thou art 
 bent on it, leave the bulk of thy money here, with the lord 
 of the khan, who will give thee a writing of acknowledgment 
 and refund it to thee in the morning." 
 
 But all the servant could say failed to convince Said of the 
 wisdom of placing his money in another man's hands. To 
 exchange gold and silver for a piece of paper seemed to him 
 the last absurdity. 
 
 "This is a foolish thing thou purposest, O my lord," 
 whispered Selim, with a wail in his voice. "Ah, why didst 
 thou omit to bring thy bride along with thee? Strange 
 women bring ruin to the wisest. As for me, I have my house 
 at a village of the mountains, a parcel of ground and two 
 fruit-trees belonging to me. My woman has always remained 
 there, while I gained money in travel as a muleteer. I go 
 thither in two hours from here when I have a mind to visit 
 her. She is a good girl and faithful ; and she seems beautiful 
 to one who sees her seldom and in the shadow of the morrow's 
 parting. Ah, effendi, how sweet is his woman with a babe at 
 her breast to a man returning from a far journey ! But this 
 that thou wouldest do — forgive me, my master — is a shame 
 for a true believer, and most bitter in the memory. Strange 
 women are ravenous as wild beasts ; they will devour all thy 
 substance if thou persist in following after them. Leave but 
 the half of thy wealth here, with the lord of the khan, or, if it 
 please thee, with me who am thy servant ! " 
 
 But Said only eyed the speaker with suspicion, supposing 
 that he had a mind to rob him. He rose shortly, and having 
 paid for the supper, wished the company a happy night. 
 Whereupon Selim borrowed a lantern from the bare-legged 
 hostler, and hurried after him, past the sleeping beasts in the 
 stable and out on to the deserted causeway, black as night's 
 shadow, where the flap of their? Uppers resounded as in an 
 empty hall, and dogs shrank from the ruddy glow of the 
 lantern to form in a barking phalanx at their heels. He was 
 determined to light his master's steps, whether Said would or 
 no, to mark well what house he entered and what manner of 
 man he was that kept the door. 
 
XIV 
 
 " A T TOEisme! . . . Allah have mercy !.. . I am ruined! 
 V V • • • all my wealth is gone ! . . . I have been robbed 
 by wicked men ; may Allah strike them dead for it. . . . Oh, that 
 I knew the thief, that I might kill him ! . . . Yesterday, in the 
 evening, I was rich : now I have no resource but to stretch 
 out my hand. . . . But I will have justice — vengeance ! I go 
 straight to the Cadi — to the chief of the soldiers — to the 
 Sultan himself! . . . Up, Selim ! Let us hasten to inform the 
 judge." 
 
 " Woe is me ! : . . My heart is very sad for thee, O my 
 master. Alas ! did I not counsel thee to leave were it but the 
 half of thy wealth behind with the lord of the khan ? — but thou 
 wouldest not ! I have done all that it is in a man's power to 
 do. I have sought out the owner of that house of sin. I 
 have threatened him with horrid tortures so that he wept. 
 And now, having achieved nothing, I have come back to 
 mourn with thee in the place which thou namedst, even in 
 this garden by the riverside. The Cadi will not help thee, 
 for thou canst bring nothing in thy hand. Moreover, a part 
 of the profits of that house of sin is paid to a great one of the 
 city for his protection. . . . Think not that I am careless for 
 thy loss. For two hours I was with the master of that house, 
 cursing and threatening. Once I held him by the throat . . . " 
 " Aha ! That was well done ! And what said the pig ? " 
 11 Have I not told thee, O my master ? He wept bitterly 
 and his sons with him. Then he arose, and also his sons. 
 They took great staves in their hands and ran like madmen 
 through all the place, belabouring the dancing-girls and the 
 old woman who mothers them, and the attendants, and him 
 who keeps the door. M 
 
 "Merciful Allah ! was there not one who confessed ?" 
 " Alas, my master, thy mind is distraught with grief. Have 
 78 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 79 
 
 I not already told thee? not one of them but confessed. 
 The burden of another's guilt seemed a light and easy thing 
 to bear compared with the great pain of being beaten with 
 a stick. They all cried aloud for mercy, saying, 'I and 
 none other am the thief!' It is the same as if none had 
 confessed. Ah, my master, how earnest thou to be thus 
 careless of thy money?" 
 
 "Woe is me, I am ruined! " 
 
 Said lifted up his voice and wept, beating his breast and 
 plucking wildly at his new robe as if to tear it. Selim, seated 
 on his heels, wrapped in the missionary's dressing-gown, 
 looked on at his master's despair with a grin of the deepest 
 concern. He laboured to console the sufferer with divers 
 proverbs and wise sayings from of old — crumbs from the 
 plenteous table of Islam, which the very dogs pick up and 
 pass from mouth to mouth. But the Heaven-taught creed of 
 resignation was hardly Said's at that moment — "A man must 
 bear all things, good and bad, with a calm mind." " Allah 
 was above all." It might be He would mete out happiness 
 at the last, as He did of old in the case of Neby Ayub ! 
 " The reward of patience was sure in the end." Said rejected 
 all such crumbs of comfort with a furious shrug. He found 
 them very stale. 
 
 With a deaf ear to his servant's pleading, he flung himself 
 upon the ground, moaning, howling and blubbering. Writhing 
 in his anguish, he called upon Allah Most High to avenge his 
 cause, to slay the robber and destroy that house of sin with all 
 who dwelt there. 
 
 The voice of his rage and grief rent the calm of that 
 peaceful garden as a cry from Hell piercing the heart of 
 Paradise. Sehm, the resigned, rolled a cigarette and looked 
 rueful as he squatted in the pleasant shade. All about them 
 along the ground little thickets and tufts of rose-trees swayed 
 pink flowers and fluttered green leaves to the pleasure of a 
 light breeze which drank their sweetness. The river 
 murmured in its stony bed, sparkling over pebbles in the sun- 
 light of mid-stream, forming deep pools beneath the bank, very 
 willing to dawdle in the shade of the great walnut-trees. 
 
 The mourners were quite alone. The voice of the city 
 floated to them out of the distance like the hum of a mighty 
 bee-hive. A little tavern at no great distance from the bank 
 
80 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 was deserted save for its owner, and he lay asleep in the 
 shade. It was the fourth hour of the day ; and not until the 
 flush of evening have men leisure to go forth and drink the 
 sweet air of the gardens. A stone bridge of a single lofty arch, 
 which bestrode the wady lower down, looked at fragments of 
 its likeness in the eddies and seemed nodding to sleep. The 
 vast blue cope of the firmament paled everywhere towards the 
 horizon in pearly haze. Abundance of leafage compassed the 
 place on every side, but at one point, through a gap in the 
 branches, the old wall of the city was visible, the white cube of 
 an upper chamber peeping over it with a bulging lattice, and 
 a single minaret cleaving the soft distance. 
 
 " Be comforted, O my master ! " said Sellm, at length, when 
 smoking had brought him to a less gloomy point of view. 
 " Look ! the very birds are frightened by the voice of thy 
 grieving." He pointed to certain which were flitting uneasily 
 from twig to twig with alarmed chirrup and twittering. " It is 
 a great loss, I grant thee. To a small man like me it would 
 be ruin. But for thee, effendi, it is only a mishap — most 
 grievous without doubt, and I suffer with thee. Thou hast lost 
 what was in thy hands to spend ; but the head of thy money 
 remains — those lands and that palace of which thou spakest 
 yesterday, and all the wealth belonging to thee in thy own 
 place." 
 
 At these words Said writhed as if a serpent had bitten 
 him. The extreme depth into which he was fallen rendered 
 him careless of dishonour in the opinion of this muleteer. 
 There was a ring of peevishness in his bitter cry as he made 
 the avowal, — 
 
 "It was a lie — the word that I spake to thee. I have 
 nothing but that thou wottest of, which is lost. True, I was 
 a great one formerly. Men pressed to kiss were it only the 
 hem of my robe when I walked abroad. But there was an 
 end to my greatness. My enemy, who hated me, was ap- 
 pointed Caimmacam, and used his power as governor to my 
 ruin. I was robbed and my robbers were openly screened 
 from vengeance. One night certain of the Council that were 
 my friends came privily to my house — a palace it was, by 
 Allah ! — and told me of a plot to slay me. Then I fled away 
 by stealth, riding upon the horse thou sawest, taking only a 
 woman that was dear to me and money sufficient for the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 81 
 
 journey. The woman fell ill by the way and I left her in the 
 house of one who befriended me. Alas, it may be she is dead 
 ere now ! 
 
 " Woe is me, I am ruined ! . . . Yesterday I was pros- 
 perous, having a servant and money enough : now look ! — I 
 am a crushed worm and there is none to pity me. . . . Allah, 
 in mercy take my life also ! " 
 
 And at that his moaning broke out afresh. 
 
 "Now, by my beard, thou speakest folly," said Selim, 
 gravely. " Thou sayest : ' Yesterday I had a servant,' when 
 to-day thou lackest not a man to do thy bidding. It was not 
 well to hide the truth from me, effendi. It is with a servant 
 the same as with a partner or a woman. Acquaint him fully 
 at the first, for living always with thee he will presently come 
 at the knowledge though thou wouldst conceal it. Am I not 
 bound to thee for one month by token of sixty piastres and 
 this rich garment which thou gavest me ? A robe like this is 
 worth much gold, let the Franks laugh if they please. Selim is 
 not a dog or an infidel that he should forsake his benefactor, 
 whom Allah has smitten. 
 
 " Take heart, O my master ! Besides the sixty piastres I 
 have other moneys of my own — a little, it is understood — very 
 little. With all that I have I will buy merchandise — small 
 things such as men hawk through the streets in a basket. 
 Deign to share with me, effendi, nor think it shame because 
 I am a muleteer while thou art learned and of a good house. 
 I will find out some shaded place where thou mayest sit at 
 ease behind the basket containing our wares while Selim 
 praises the goods for sale in a loud voice, luring them that 
 pass by to pause and examine them. Sellm will be thy 
 servant then as now. Only, at the end of the day when there 
 is no more traffic, we shall divide the profits equally as 
 partners. Is it agreed, O my lord ? I know well that it is a 
 shame for thee to take part with a man like Selim in the open 
 street where all may see thee — it is natural. But that is only 
 the beginning. Afterwards, when our wealth increases, we 
 will hire a stall in one of the finest markets ; when thou shalt 
 be a great merchant, I promise thee, and Selim, being thy 
 servant, and also (secretly) thy partner, shall partake of thy 
 prosperity. What sayest thou ? " 
 
 It was long ere Said would let himself be won over to this 
 F 
 
82 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 or any other compromise with misfortune. For hours he held 
 out against his servant's entreaties, moaning always and sign- 
 ing "No " with hands and head. But as the day wore towards 
 evening and the shadows of the trees and shrubs grew long 
 and blue to eastward, he became less hot in his denial ; and at 
 last, having consented to smoke a cigarette, rolled by Selim and 
 lighted obsequiously for him by that most faithful of followers, 
 he relented altogether. " It shall be as thou desirest," he 
 agreed with a wave of his hand ; and he entered with some 
 keenness upon the discussion of their joint plans for the 
 future. 
 
 " And now, O my master," said Selim, smiling for joy at 
 the cure he had wrought, " let us repair to the tavern yonder, 
 for thou hast eaten nothing since the sun's rising. I know 
 the master of the place well; indeed, he and I are sworn 
 brothers. He is renowned in all the city as a cook. Ah, by 
 Allah, his stuffed vegetables have not their like in all the 
 world ! Arise, O my lord ! I have money should there be 
 need of it." 
 
 The sun being now near to his setting, a number of idlers 
 from the city were seated on little stools in the tavern or in 
 the shadow of a great walnut-tree which confronted it and 
 partly overhung the stream. 
 
 A train of mules passing the bridge close by made music 
 with their bells. Quite another kind of music came from the 
 wide porch of the coffee-house — if porch it can be called, 
 which wanted but one wall to form a room as large again as 
 the actual dwelling. A man, sitting cross-legged on a stone 
 bench or couch beside the inner door, was howling most piti- 
 fully with closed eyes and a perpetual rhythmic swaying of his 
 body to and fro ; while another, facing him upon a four-legged 
 stool, thrummed an accompaniment on an .instrument of two 
 strings. Some of the company kept clapping their hands in 
 time with the melody. Others smiled ' voluptuously with 
 closed eyes, sighing out a prolonged "A-a-ah!" or panting, 
 " O my eyes ! O my soul ! " in the height of sensual enjoy- 
 ment. It was a love song of the most rapturous type — one to 
 which no son of an Arab could listen unmoved. 
 
 To Said's present mood it appealed very strongly; but 
 instead of inducing languor, as in the case of the other hearers, 
 it brought a warmth to his swarthy cheeks and a brightness to 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 83 
 
 his eyes. The passionate writhing of the singer, his wails, his 
 shrieks, awoke a lively echo in the fisherman's bosom. Old 
 memories were stirred and, like a heap of dead rose leaves, 
 they gave forth a perfume of days gone by. He recalled the 
 hour when he had led a bride to his house, the madness and 
 the thrill of it. The world was full of maidens fairer and 
 sweeter than she had been. 
 
 Absorbed in the music, which seemed to his mind, and to 
 the minds of most men there, to harp upon the keynote of all 
 that is sweet in life, he gave no heed to the dialogue of Selim 
 and the tavern-keeper carried on in an undertone, though 
 aware that its substance was friendly to the cravings of his 
 appetite. The concluding words, however, spoken somewhat 
 louder as the host moved away, reached his brain. 
 
 " May thy prosperity increase, O father of a vegetable 
 marrow ! Let them be stuffed as thou alone knowest how to 
 stuff them ; and ah ! as thou lovest me, forget not to soak the 
 whole perfectly in oil ! " 
 
 At last the song expired on a shrill, quavering note of long 
 duration. The singer opened his eyes and grinned in ac- 
 knowledgment of the applause. After one deep-drawn sigh 
 of mixed contentment and regret from the whole audience the 
 hum of conversation arose. 
 
 Said looked westward to where the sun's chin already 
 leaned on the crest of a ridge of mountains, which seemed the 
 dark wall of a monstrous furnace, for all beyond was flame. 
 He could see the shrine whence he had obtained his first view 
 of the city — a minute black boss against the sky. It was but 
 before yesterday that he had reined in his horse up there. 
 
 He was lost in reflections to which the thought gave rise, 
 the commotion caused by the love-song in his blood abating 
 gradually to that torpor of resignation which is the frame of 
 mind prescribed to all faithful people, when Selim plucked his 
 robe and whispered, — 
 
 " Look, O my master ! Hither comes the man who was 
 befooled by the scribe — thou rememberest last night at the 
 khan ? See, there is the boy, his brother, with him, and one 
 of sullen bearing, who seems a servant." 
 
 With a start, Said glanced in the direction indicated. At 
 the same instant the sun sank totally behind the rugged hills, 
 and the gardens turned blue-grey beneath a burning flush. 
 
84 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 The party Selim referred to was close at hand, walking list- 
 lessly with dejected looks. Said rose respectful as the 
 litigant drew near with his following. He bowed profoundly 
 and went through the usual show of deference, scooping up 
 imaginary dust with his hand and laying it lightly upon his 
 lips and brow. 
 
 " May your evening be in all goodness, effendurn ! " he 
 cried. "Allah willing you are happy in your suit?" 
 
 At that the newcomers raised hands and eyes to Heaven, 
 all three at once, pouring forth a torrent of mingled saluta- 
 tions, curses and complaints. It was plain they were losers 
 by the day's business. 
 
 Said waited till they were seated, then carried his stool 
 near to them so as to make one of their circle. He expressed 
 his sympathy warmly, inveighing in no measured terms, 
 though in a low tone, against the injustice of things in general 
 and the iniquity of courts of law in particular. He too had 
 suffered grievous things since last he had the pleasure to 
 behold their honours. Robbed in a single night of all he 
 possessed, he could obtain no redress, no justice, not so much 
 as a hearing of his complaint. By Allah, it was mistress of all 
 wickedness, that city ! 
 
 The defeated plaintiff was warmed by this sympathy of a 
 fellow-sufferer to be communicative. He recounted all his 
 grievances from the very first, which was a dispute with the 
 tithe-farmer for his extortion of three times his due of the 
 crops of a certain village of which he (the speaker) was head- 
 man. It was a long story of insult heaped upon injustice, 
 and aggravation upon injury; but Said did not mind its 
 length, so busy was he concocting a tale to beat it of his own 
 misfortunes. No sooner did he espy an opening — a very 
 short pause in the other's narrative sufficed him — than he 
 thrust his fiction into it wedgewise, breaking short the tale of 
 his rival and astounding his three listeners with a brief sketch 
 or outline of such afflictions as never man bore since the days 
 of Ayub the Bedawi, whom Allah loved and chastened. 
 
 "Of a surety thou art more wretched even than I," said 
 the other, gasping. "Indeed, in a measure I may be called 
 fortunate, for I have found one just man in this city of thieves. 
 He befriended me in the darkest hour of my trouble. But 
 for his kindness I had been in prison at this minute instead 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 85 
 
 of speaking freely with thee here in this pleasant garden. 
 Know that there came one to the court to-day — an old man, 
 a friend of the Cadi, who sat by him in the seat of honour, 
 where the Mufti sometimes sits. But it was not his reverence 
 the Mufti, whose face I know well. 
 
 "When that wicked judgment was given a fine was laid 
 upon me because forsooth I had annoyed that devil of a 
 tithe-farmer with my suit and hindered him in the discharge 
 of his duties. As I had not with me wherewith to pay, 1 
 offered to ride at once to my village and return after three 
 days with the money. But at that my enemy — may his house 
 be destroyed ! — cried out that I was seeking to escape the 
 penalty. And the judge, he too declared that if I would not 
 pay the money I must go to prison until it was collected on 
 my behalf. Then up rose that old man of whom I spoke but 
 now — a good old man, and a kindly, may Allah requite him ! 
 — none like him in all the world ! He begged a favour of the 
 Cadi, though what it was I might not hear, for they conversed 
 in whispers and I was far removed from them in the hali. 
 Presently he came down to me and led me aside from 
 the rest of the people. He said that he would not have me 
 go to prison for so light a matter. He would pay the fine for 
 me but I must promise to pay back the money before a year 
 expired. Allah reward him ! 
 
 "So it happens that I am free. To-morrow, ere it be 
 light, I shall set out for my home ; and within four days from 
 now that just and holy sheykh shall be assured that Habib ebn 
 Nasr is a good man and no perjurer — " 
 
 " Deign to draw near, O my master. The supper is ready," 
 came the voice of Selim. 
 
 "With thy permission I leave thee," whispered Said 
 hurriedly, divided between the pangs of hunger and a desire 
 to learn more of this wonder of liberality; "but quick! tell 
 me what is his name ! I too am poor — in the deepest distress. 
 My need is even greater than was thine. Doubtless he will 
 help me also, hearing my tale. Say, O sheykh, what is his 
 name ? — where his house ? I will take no rest till I kiss his 
 feet ! " 
 
 " His name is Ismail Abb&s — a Sherif, of the kindred of 
 the Prophet — that was all he told me. But he is a great one, 
 I assure thee, one whose name and dignities would fill a book. 
 
86 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 He must be a learned doctor of the religion, for he bade me 
 seek him always in the gate of the great mosque between the 
 third hour and noon." 
 
 " I thank thee," murmured Said, with a thoughtful brow. 
 " May Allah keep thee in safety on thy journey ! " 
 
 He picked up his stool and rejoined his servant. 
 
 "I have good news for thee, O Selim," he whispered. 
 " Glad news — splendid ! To-morrow, at the third hour, thou 
 shalt guide me to the great mosque — " 
 
 But just then a shrill murmur from the city floated out 
 over the darkening gardens — the chanting from a hundred 
 minarets, the voice of the common conscience bidding all men 
 pray. 
 
 Said fell on his knees. It grieved him that he had no 
 cloak to spread out for a carpet as he saw others, Sellm 
 among them, do around him. For a space there was silence 
 in and about the tavern, broken only by the fervid muttering 
 of the worshippers and an occasional clatter made with pots 
 and pans by some soulless woman within the dwelling. A 
 single lantern, hanging from a hook in the roof, was already 
 burning though a spirit-blue of daylight still lingered among 
 the trees. It shone on turbaned heads all turned one way, 
 hands blinding eyes for the furtherance of inward searching, 
 lips moving silently ; on old and young alike prostrate, with 
 foreheads pressed to the ground ; and dimly, in the darkest 
 corner of the hostelry, on the faces of three unbelievers 
 sitting together by the wall, not daring to speak or move. A 
 word at such a time might well have cost a beating. 
 
XV 
 
 SELIM had much to say concerning the beneficent and 
 learned doctor whose name and the hopes he had of 
 him Said imparted during supper. But where was the subject 
 within the scope of hearsay on which Selim had little to relate ? 
 It is the custom of muleteers and camel-drivers to gather in 
 the khan, or wherever they pass the night, and tire each other 
 to sleep with talk of their experiences, their masters and their 
 native cities. An intelligent man, and one content to listen, 
 may pick up much useful knowledge of the world and its 
 citizens from such converse. And Selim had sharp ears and 
 a retentive memory. 
 
 The name of Ismail Abb&s was become a byword for 
 learning and uprightness, and there were many good stories 
 concerning him, all with a certain quaint salt of proverbial 
 wisdom. But though the servant was glad to air a store of 
 anecdotes he said everything to dissuade his master from an 
 appeal for alms. 
 
 He was at no pains to hide the motive of this reluctance, 
 but put it forward humbly as a plea, cringing and with anxious 
 eyes. It was a fear lest Said, having once more money in his 
 hand, should abandon their little scheme of partnership for 
 some loftier path to fortune. But the fisherman was firm, and 
 Selim was at last obliged to yield and consent to be his guide 
 on the morrow. 
 
 This experience of his master's obstinacy left the muleteer 
 moody for some time. He grumbled to himself, shrugging 
 his shoulders and frowning at his feet. Then, seeming to 
 come on a solution, his face brightened. 
 
 " He will not give thee much money, O my master. It 
 would be profitable for thee to lay it out in the manner I pro- 
 posed. Thus we should be able to buy a better stock of 
 goods than with my money only. What sayest thou ? * 
 
 87 
 
88 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "Of course," murmured Said, carelessly. "Thou art a 
 good man and a faithful. Be sure I shall not forsake 
 thee." 
 
 "Good — very good," said Selim, gleefully. "With thy 
 leave, effendi, I go to speak with my friend." 
 
 With that he rose, and threading his way among the stools 
 went to the door of the inner room, which framed just then a 
 picture of the tavern-keeper stooping over a charcoal fire and 
 his dilated shadow on the wall beyond. He returned almost 
 immediately and directed Said's attention to the host, who 
 had come forth with a great mattress of many colours in his 
 arms, and was spreading it out in a shadowy corner remote 
 from the guests. Selim hoped that his honour would not 
 disdain to spend a night in that lowly place. The bed was 
 soft and clean, his friend, the taverner could vouch for it. 
 The customers would soon be all gone, when his Excellency 
 could sleep undisturbed till morning. 
 
 Said was beginning to feel drowsy. He rose with a yawn, 
 bidding Allah bless the house and its master, and, with a 
 reverence in passing to the litigant and his supporters, betook 
 himself straightway to rest. For a minute he lay blinking at 
 the crazy lantern, which burned ever dimmer and more 
 blurred upon his sight. Then he knew no more until, shaken 
 by Selim, he sat up to behold the gardens fresh and glistening 
 to the sun's first rays, and the tavern-keeper, a fat man with 
 a good-tempered face and a soiled turban, in the act of setting 
 down a tray of eatables upon the ground beside him. 
 
 Some two hours later master and man re-entered the city 
 in the comfort attending a hearty meal with a narghileh 
 smoked afterwards for digestion's sake. As they shouldered 
 their way through the motley crowd in the streets Selim was 
 fervent in praise of their entertainer. There was no one like 
 Rashid in all the world. His honour had seen well what a 
 good man he was, and how generous. How overjoyed, too, 
 he had been to see Selim, his sworn brother since five years. 
 Rashid also was formerly a muleteer. They had journeyed 
 in the same company to Mosul and Baghdad, and had loved 
 one another from the first meeting. They had friends and 
 enemies in common. Never had a harsh or angry word 
 passed between them. 
 
 The topic was far from exhausted when they emerged from 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 89 
 
 a narrow alley and found themselves at the splendid gateway 
 of the great mosque. Sellm, however, broke off short in his 
 eulogy to call Said's notice to the dazzling white minaret he 
 had beheld in his first morning's ramble through the city. 
 Now, as then, doves innumerable were wheeling and cooing 
 around it. 
 
 " Dost thou know its name, O my master, and the story 
 concerning it ? " He put the question rr.ore for form's sake 
 than as requiring an answer, and went on at once : " This 
 minaret, effendi, is called by the name of Isa ebn Miriam, 
 that great prophet whom the Christians in their blindness 
 worship instead of Allah. Wouldst like to learn why it is so 
 caHed ? It is Selim who can certify thee. I heard the whole 
 truth, effendi, from a learned dervish, in whose company I 
 once journeyed from Urfa as far as Haleb the White." 
 
 Sellm drew his master into the bay of the great gate to 
 avoid a long string of camels, laden with stone, which were 
 approaching with a deafening clangour of bells. There he 
 stood still in the shadow, withdrawn but an arm's-length from 
 the throng and the sunlight, one hand on Said's arm to beg 
 attention, the other pointing to the minaret of Jesus the 
 Prophet, whom the faithful call Run' Allah : the Spirit of God. 
 The eyes of the passers-by dwelt with curiosity upon the pair, 
 but especially upon Sellm, the importance of whose pose 
 combined with the eccentric fashion of his raiment to make 
 him a notable figure. 
 
 "Know, O my Master, it is foretold that, in the latter 
 days, when the end of all things draws nigh, Dejil shall appear 
 in a cloud of black smoke, black as pitch, covering the whole 
 world. He is the Messiah whom the Jews expect, and great 
 multitudes of that race will follow him. Then the Beast of 
 the Earth shall appear, bearing in one hand the rod of Musa, 
 in the other, the seal of Suleyman. With the rod he will 
 trace a word upon the brow of every true believer ; and the 
 foreheads of the infidels he will stamp with the seal. The 
 sun will rise in the west ; and the Yehejuj — Mehejuj, that 
 nation of dwarfs, sprung from the loins of Yafez ebn Nuh, 
 will be seen plainly of all men. Arabistan will be shaken 
 with an earthquake. 
 
 " Dejil, that false prophet, will have power for a space to 
 deceive even the faithful. But a fire will break out in Yemen 
 
 
90 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 — a mighty conflagration, driving all flesh before it to the 
 place of Judgment. Isa ebn Miriam will come to this 
 very. . ." 
 
 Said's impatience at being detained in the gate when a 
 man renowned for almsgiving awaited him within here got 
 the better of his politeness. He broke away with an oath 
 and shuffled off his stipes by the threshold. Selim, with a 
 sigh, held his peace and did likewise. 
 
 On the right hand as they entered, in a shaded place like 
 a cloister, a group of little boys was sitting cross-legged on 
 a carpet, forming a half-circle before a venerable man, richly 
 clad, who was instructing them in a droning voice. Each 
 had an inkhorn at his girdle and a reed pen in his hand, with 
 which to write upon the page of a book which rested in his 
 lap. Said smiled as he looked at them ; for he loved children, 
 and it was a whimsical thing for him to see half a dozen boys 
 of the most turbulent age sitting grave and demure, like little 
 scribes, at the sage's feet. He followed Selim to the place of 
 washing, whence, having fulfilled their ablutions, they went 
 into the mosque itself to pray awhile. Upon issuing forth 
 again into the sunlight of the outer court, Selim raised a hand 
 to screen his eyes, and sent a keen glance round the cloister- 
 like outbuildings in search of a green turban. Suddenly he 
 pulled Said's sleeve, whispering, — 
 
 " Thou seest three men of grave seeming seated in the 
 yonder corner where the shadow is the darkest ? He on the 
 right is the Sherif Ismail Abbas whom thou seekest. Next 
 to him, if I judge rightly at this distance, sits his worship, the 
 Mufti. The third I know not, but he seems a great one. 
 Be advised, effendi : do not disturb them at present. They 
 speak doubtless of weighty matters, and the tale of thy wrongs 
 will but anger them, being busy." 
 
 But Said did not hear this advice. Even before it was 
 uttered he was speeding across the mosaic pavement. By 
 the time Selim grew fully aware that he was standing alone 
 he beheld his master prostrate in the shadow at the feet of 
 the three reverend ones who sat there. 
 
 Said's outcry of praise and compliment as he lay on his 
 face was cut short by a voice that bade him rise. The tones 
 were mild but commanding ; not to be gainsaid. He raised 
 himself to a kneeling posture and sat back on his heels, the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 91 
 
 tide of flattery still flowing from his lips with a sound akin to 
 a dog's whine. The Mufti — a fat man very richly dressed — 
 was frowning consequentially at the intruder. His unknown 
 neighbour was languid in surprise. Only the Sherlf appeared 
 quite unmoved. With eyes fixed on Said's face and hand 
 laid thoughtfully to his trim grey beard, he spoke a second 
 time. 
 
 " To which of us three wouldst thou speak ? " he asked ; and 
 with a gesture of the deepest self-abasement Said answered, 
 "To thy Grace, O Emir." 
 
 " Thou hast my leave ; speak on ! Only take care that 
 thy tale be not long, for I am busy." 
 
 Said needed no further encouragement. Wringing his 
 hands he burst forth : " Alas for me, I am ruined ! Know, 
 O Emir and your Excellencies, that I was once a great one — 
 none greater than me in all the city, by my father's grave ! " 
 Thus he began ; and he went on to relate something of what 
 had in truth befallen him and much of what had not, the 
 whole freely sprinkled with " Woe is me ! " and " Alas ! " and 
 strengthened by solemn asseverations of truth. 
 
 11 But why, O man," broke in the Mufti, severely, at an 
 early stage of the narrative, "why, I ask thee, dost thou 
 now lay the blame of the theft upon thy friend, when at first 
 thou doubtedst not but that a jinni had robbed thee ? It is 
 well-known that the jan are numerous and often malignant. 
 Ever since their revolt against Allah, after the fall of Man, 
 it has been their delight to molest the sons of Adam. The 
 mission of Muhammed, the Apostle of Allah (peace be to 
 him !) was, it is written, not to men only, but also to the j&n. 
 Nevertheless, there be many unbelievers among them, as 
 among men, and it is likely that one of them had a grudge 
 against thee. I like not to hear of such doubt. It has an 
 evil savour of infidelity." 
 
 "Pardon me, brother," put in the Sherlf, mildly, "if I 
 share the doubt of this young man — in the present instance, 
 be it understood. Who can doubt that the jan exist, when we 
 have the highest assurance of their existence ? For all that, 
 a treacherous friend is, alas ! no marvel. Proceed with thy 
 tale ! " 
 
 Said went on to paint a picture of his more recent mis- 
 fortunes, with much glozing and many omissions, being 
 
92 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 desirous that the whole should redound to his credit. Having 
 heard him out, Ismail Abbas turned to his friends. 
 
 " What think you of this story ? " he asked with a slight 
 smile. 
 
 " Lies ! " said the Mufti, with a majestic wave of his fat 
 hand, thereby exhibiting the many rings of price with which 
 its fingers were laden — "all lies ! This fellow must be some 
 unbeliever — a Christian in disguise." 
 
 "Nay, now, my friend, thou speakest injustice," said the 
 third great one, speaking for the first time. " Have I not 
 fought for Islam, and that with honour? Have I not been 
 a prisoner in the hands of the infidels? It is well-known 
 that I, of all men, have least cause to love the Christians. 
 Yet I tell thee that even among my personal enemies I have 
 known good men and just." 
 
 "I assure your Highness I did but speak of the Christians 
 of my own race," said the Mufti, with reverence. " Some of the 
 Franks, I grant thee, have good. qualities." Then, turning 
 sternly to Said : " But to what purpose this tale of thine, fellow ? " 
 
 In a paroxysm of humility Said replied that he was 
 destitute, friendless, having no resource but to beg. He 
 addressed himself always to the Sherlf, who smiled as he 
 listened — reflectively, as at some inward suggestion. He had 
 heard, as who had not, the fame of his Excellency which was 
 noised abroad through the whole city; how that he was a 
 pious man — none like him — and a kindly. So, being in 
 grievous trouble, he had made all haste to kiss the ground 
 between his Grace's feet, to crave were it but a small sum to 
 save him from dying of hunger. He suited the action to the 
 words, falling again prostrate upon the pavement. 
 
 " Die of hunger, saidst thou ? — Pshaw ! " ejaculated the 
 Mufti, stroking his belly, which seemed very full. "What 
 man ever did die of hunger in Damashc-esh-Sham since 
 Ibrahim El KhalU was king over it ? Such things occur, they 
 say, in the cities of the Franks, where a poor man is used 
 worse than a dog. But show me the true believer who would 
 refuse thee bread to eat and water to drink ! Thou speakest 
 folly, young man." 
 
 Said seemed not to hear the remarks of the worthy judge, 
 but lay still prone at the feet of the Sherlf. 
 
 11 Rise ! " said Ismail Abbas, presently, in that gentle voice 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 93 
 
 of his which allowed of no evasion. " Who am I that thou 
 shouldst fall down before me ? And who, pray, is this person 
 in the extraordinary garment ? " 
 
 Said, upon his heels once more, glanced over his shoulder 
 and beheld Selim standing shyly at a little distance behind him. 
 
 "This is my servant, may it please your honour !" 
 
 "Ma sh' Allah!" cried the Mufti, fairly startled out of the 
 calm appropriate to him as a fat man and a prosperous. " Is 
 there then found a creature to call the dog master ? Has the 
 flea then an attendant? Come hither, thou fellow, and 
 answer: Art thou in truth this man's servant?" 
 
 Selim came forward, shamefaced, with the lowest of salaams. 
 
 " It is true, O my lord. He is my master and the father 
 of kindness. It is he who gave me this grand robe which I 
 now wear. That was in the day of his prosperity; and now 
 that he is poor it were a sin for me to forsake him ! " 
 
 11 A miracle ! " gasped the Mufti, and held his peace, fearing, 
 perhaps, apoplexy. 
 
 " Since when hast thou been his servant ? * asked Ismail 
 Abbas with a smile more kindly than that he had bestowed 
 on Said's wondrous tale. 
 
 "Since before yesterday," was the answer. 
 
 At that the Mufti's fat quivered and shook with laughter, 
 and even his dignified neighbour was moved to smile. 
 
 " Tell me the tale of thy meeting with him, my son," said 
 the Sherif, stroking his beard. 
 
 Selim complied with seemly brevity ; not forgetting, how- 
 ever, to celebrate the bounty of his sworn brother, the tavern- 
 keeper, and his famous plan of partnership in a petty trade. 
 When he had heard all, Ismail Abbas turned a stern face to 
 the suppliant, who blenched at his look. 
 
 " Thou art destitute, thou saidst ; yet this good man has 
 agreed do share with thee as a partner. Thou spakest of 
 death by hunger when thy belly is full as my own. I tell thee 
 that this man, who has humbled himself as a servant before 
 thee, is thy lord in all goodness. Thou spakest many words 
 concerning thy former wealth and position, whereas thou 
 speakest with the tongue of the lowest of the people. 
 
 " Now listen ! Thou wast a fisherman before thou earnest 
 hither; I have learnt it from thy mouth. Didst thou not 
 liken thyself to a fish that flaps in the trough of the net when 
 
94 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 it is lifted out of the sea ? A tailor would have found his likeness 
 in a garment ; a gardener in a piece of fruit. Thou art clever, 
 doubtless : let thy wit suffice thee. I shall give thee nothing." 
 
 " A wise judgment, brother ! " grunted the Mufti, with an 
 approving nod. " I myself, who am a judge, could hardly have 
 shown more acuteness. Of a truth, our lot falls in a degenerate 
 age," he continued, with an oratorical nourish of his podgy 
 hand. " In the time of the early Khalifs, the immediate suc- 
 cessors of the Prophet, a Muslim had something else to do 
 than to lie and steal and betray his neighbour. Then the 
 minds of all the faithful were set to convert the unbelievers 
 with fire and sword. Where is the Imam, Omar el Hattab 
 (peace to him !)? And Khalid, the Sword of Allah, where is 
 he ? Is their memory clean gone from the earth ? Truly the 
 end draws nigh. Dejil is present with us in the person of the 
 Frankish envoys. The Sultan himself is led astray. The 
 Nazarenes sit with us in the place of honour. They pass the 
 faithful in the streets with never a salutation. Is the soul then 
 gone from Islam that these things are allowed in our midst ? " 
 
 "Ah, brother, thou hast well said," sighed the Sherif. 
 "There is indeed now but the shadow of ancient majesty. 
 Yet, for my part, I do rather regret a later time, when Khalifs 
 of the line of Abbas ruled in the City of Peace, when learning 
 flourished like a young tree, and the desire of knowledge was 
 with every man as the breath of life." 
 
 "I hate the unbelievers as bitterly as any man," muttered 
 Said, supposing his orthodoxy was somehow called in question. 
 
 "Ha! That is well said!" exclaimed the Mufti — "very 
 well! The hour is perhaps not distant when — " 
 
 " Hush, my friend ! " interrupted his stately neighbour in a 
 low tone of rebuke. " Thy speech is not of wisdom. The 
 idle words of one in authority are like sparks blown on a wind. 
 They may die harmless on the ground ; but they have power 
 to set a whole town in a blaze. It behoves thee, therefore, to 
 be careful. Because a Frankish consul caused a decree of 
 thine to be revoked yesterday, thou art bitter against all 
 Nazarenes — it is natural. But let thy wrath consume in 
 silence — Why lingerest thou, fellow ? Didst thou not hear 
 the words of my friend, that he would give thee nothing, 
 because thou art a rogue ? Go in peace ! n 
 
 Said rose, and with a cringing salute slunk sullenly away. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 95 
 
 Selim, whose face was rueful, was about to follow him, when 
 Ismail Abbas spoke to him. 
 
 "If ever thou have need of a friend," he said, "come to 
 me. And, I counsel thee, seek another partner! Now go, 
 and my peace with thee, for I am busy." 
 
 Selim kissed the hand that was held out to him with those 
 gracious words, as also the bursting hand of the Mufti and the 
 thin, nervous fingers of the third great one. Then he went to 
 rejoin Said, whom he found in the act of slipping on his shoes 
 at the door-sill of the gate. 
 
 Said's glance at him was lowering. He thought that the 
 muleteer's purpose in coming after him could only be to taunt 
 and revile. The uproar of the crowded streets sounded in his 
 ears as the voice of his woman sounds to one awakening 
 from an evil dream. The court of the mosque was a burden 
 of stillness at his back — a calm full of reproach, where the 
 very cooing of the doves and murmur of the scholars told of 
 his shame. Selim was part of the scene from which he would 
 flee. With a vindictive frown he bade him depart from him. 
 But the faithful fellow drew all the closer, grinning friendly 
 and saying, — 
 
 " Thou art clever, O Said — a perfect devil. That was a 
 capital fraud thou didst put upon me. I, who am accounted 
 no fool, was utterly deceived. With a man of brains like thee 
 for partner Selim will surely rise to great honour. The money 
 thou gavest me shall buy thy share of the business. Since I 
 may no longer call thee master I name thee friend — brother. 
 And indeed I have cause to love thee, other than thy clever- 
 ness ; for the rich cloak thou gavest me has this day won me 
 favour in the sight of the great Ismail Abbas. When I was 
 clad as other men are, no great one ever honoured me with 
 his notice. Didst mark how they marvelled that one so well- 
 dressed should be a servant ? It was all because of this fine 
 garment, and Selim is grateful to thee. Now come ! I will 
 lead thee to a place where such merchandise as we require is 
 sold cheap." 
 
 Said stood a moment in doubt, as one bewildered. Then, 
 finding Selim in earnest, and seeing no spark of mockery in 
 his eyes, he fell a-blubbering all at once and swooped upon 
 his friend's hand, kissing it repeatedly, and calling upon Allah 
 to bless him for a good man — none like him in all the world. 
 
XVI 
 
 FOR more than a month the partnership of Said with 
 Selim proved to the profit and contentment of both. 
 But at length Said began to tire of it. His mind kept reverting 
 to his roving life as to a period of great happiness. 
 
 To sit in the shade of an archway, where two noisy streams 
 of wayfarers elbowed and jostled one another all day long, and 
 cry aloud in praise of paltry wares, seemed a tame, not to say 
 shameful, means of livelihood to one who had sipped of the 
 cup of greatness. The wretched room, too, which he shared 
 with Selim vexed him with its meanness. It was buried away 
 in the heart of the poorest and most crowded quarter. The 
 approach was through a series of stinking tunnels, where one 
 stirred a sleeping dog with every step, up a worn stairway 
 always slippery with offal. Even at noon the daylight never 
 reached it. The squalor and the evil smells were of no account 
 to Said ; but to abide in a quarter whose very name was a by- 
 word for wretchedness — that it was which disgusted him. 
 
 The delight of his partner each night, as by the light of a 
 floating wick he told the trifling gains of the day, was another 
 ground for discontent. What were a few paras to one who 
 had held fourteen English pounds in the hollow of his hand ? 
 Of course it was true, as Selim said with that cheery smile in 
 which his white teeth themselves seemed light of heart, that a 
 little, and a little, and again a little, becomes a great deal. 
 But the slowness and labour of accumulation were irksome to 
 Said. At their present rate of profit it would be three years 
 at least before they could think of hiring that shop in the 
 grand bazaar of which Selim dreamt every night. Meanwhile, 
 he hankered after the reckless life he had left for this ; and 
 each day added zest to his longing. 
 
 His mind was in this unsettled state as he walked with 
 Selim one evening homeward from their place of business. 
 
 96 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 97 
 
 The basket carried between them was almost full, for there 
 had been few purchasers. It was the worst day they had yet 
 experienced, so that Said's gloomy silence aroused no wonder 
 in his partner. The ways were still thronged, though the time 
 of dealing was past, and forms loomed grey and shadowy in 
 the waning light. Dogs prowled watchful on the skirts of the 
 crowd, aware that man's intrusion was almost over, looking 
 forward with dripping jaws to an undisturbed feast of refuse. 
 
 An aged man sat in the entry of a little mosque, hold- 
 ing out his hand and moaning persistently. The crowd, 
 which now consisted of men hurrying homeward impatient of 
 all hindrance, thrust the partners and their cumbrous burden 
 very near to him. Of a sudden he lifted up his voice with 
 alarming strength. The piercing whine had notes of triumph 
 and of raillery. 
 
 " Allah will give to thee, O Emir ! . . . Help me for the love 
 of Allah,, or I die ! . . . May Allah preserve thy Grace's life for 
 ever ! . . . See, I have a hand which is withered ! . . . O Lord ! 
 ... I know thee, O Emir, how great thou art ! (Wait a little !) 
 . . . Have not mine eyes beheld thy Majesty of old ? (Among 
 the olive-trees hast thou forgotten ?) . . . Have mercy, or I die ! 
 (Depart from here a little way, watch where I go and follow 
 me !) . . . O Lord ! . . . There is no compassion left on the earth 
 since the rich and great turn away their eyes from distress ! " 
 
 The wail for alms was loud, for all the street to hear. Men 
 looked for a prince, and beholding instead a pedlar of mean 
 appearance, grinned and nudged each other as they hurried 
 by. The words in parenthesis were low, for Said's ear alone. 
 Surprised, and a little disconcerted, he drew Selim into the 
 shadow of a wall, where they stood in no man's way. Then 
 he let go his handle of the skep and turned to observe the old 
 beggar. Sellm, of course, did likewise, the basket compelling 
 him. 
 
 "What ails thee, brother?" he asked in concern. "What 
 is there between thee and that old man? What was it he 
 whispered thee?" 
 
 " I met him once long ago," rejoined Said, flurriedly. " He 
 desires to speak with me apart. Maybe he brings news from 
 my city, or of the woman I left sick by the way — Allah knows ! 
 Whatever his tidings, I must hear them." 
 
 The beggar had got up and was making his slow way 
 G 
 
98 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 across the street, just where it widened forming a little square 
 or open court before the mosque. His goal seemed to be a 
 passage on the further side, just discernible as black and 
 yawning in the hovering night. Said could hear the rascal's 
 whine as he hobbled through the stream of wayfarers which 
 thinned with every minute, moaning and beseeching Allah 
 like one in the last decrepitude. He saw him gain the passage 
 and disappear down it. Then, hastily begging Selim to wait 
 for him, he followed. 
 
 The entry was pitch dark, so that peering in from the 
 twilight he could see nothing at all. For two seconds Said 
 was mortally afraid. The fall of night is an eerie time at best, 
 and a dark tunnel with no perceptible outlet was just the place 
 an afrit would choose to lurk in. He recalled something 
 devilish in the appearance of the old beggar, and was on the 
 point of taking to his heels when a hand clutched his wrist 
 and stayed him. 
 
 " What fearest thou ? I am alone ! " The voice in his ear 
 was peevish even to anger. " It is well seen thou hast 
 sojourned in the city, for thou hast the courage of a townsman 
 already. Come in here for I must speak with thee ! " 
 
 The entry grew less frightful to Said's eyes. He suffered 
 himself to be drawn into its gloom. Then in a trice the 
 unseen speaker changed his tone to one of the gladdest 
 welcome. He fell on Said's neck and kissed him repeatedly 
 on both cheeks, in spite of a curse-strengthened warning to 
 keep off. 
 
 "Thou art the very image of my son," he explained with a 
 rapturous laugh. " In truth I am minded to adopt thee as 
 the child of my soul. Now tell me, beloved, how has it fared 
 with thee since last we met ? Thou wast carrying a basket, I 
 observed! — art become a trader? Thou silly one! By the 
 time thou art old like me it may be that thou shalt have 
 wealth enough to purchase a rich garment. Out upon thee ! 
 Hast exchanged the merry game of life for drudgery ? " 
 
 Said drew a glowing picture of his altered fortunes, desiring 
 to make his listener recognise the gulf fixed between a thriving 
 and respected merchant and one who lives by alms. The 
 embrace rankled in his mind as an indignity. He felt sullied 
 and was eager to rid himself of the stain, which could be done 
 only by greatly humbling his insulter. The old beggar heard 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 99 
 
 him to an end, then he went on eagerly, as if nothing had 
 been said, — 
 
 " Now listen ! — leave thy paltry business and join with me ! 
 I had once a son on thy pattern but I drove him from me 
 because he would wed with a girl whose father was a leper. I 
 am proud and have ever counted lepers as dirt under my 
 feet ; so I cursed him and let him go. If thou wilt thou 
 mayst replace him as my partner. Mark well, I do not 
 require thee to beg. Allah be my witness — no ! It is for 
 other business that I need thy strength and youth." 
 
 He sank his voice to a whisper, which seemed a snake's 
 hiss in the darkness. A lantern, borne swiftly past the grey 
 mouth of the passage, illumined his face for a moment and 
 showed it distorted with passion. 
 
 " I seek revenge — revenge," he repeated, clutching Said's 
 arm. "There is in this city a certain dog — an unbeliever, 
 rich and thriving — may his mother's grave be denied and his 
 religion perish utterly ! — who wronged me years ago. I have 
 waited a long time — too long — for the chance to strike back. 
 I grow old, and he also. It may be I shall die soon, or he 
 may die ; and in the grave there is no satisfaction. I tell thee, 
 the time narrows. But I am old and alone ; I sometimes fear 
 lest I prove not strong enough. My son — may Allah destroy 
 him ! — might have helped me had he not been faithless. 
 Thou canst replace him. I promise thee all good things 
 instead of thy trade. Every month is Ramadan in the life of 
 a man like me. We fast all day and stretch out our hands to 
 chance comers, and when the night is come we feast and are 
 merry. I give thee this choice — a prince's life or a mule's ; 
 and in the end thou shalt have great riches — the treasure of 
 the Nazarene I told thee of. What sayest thou ? Nay, answer 
 not hastily, but go to thy house and ponder this that I have 
 said to thee. To-morrow I shall remain till noon in the cellar 
 of Nur, the harlot. Go to the coffee-house of Abu Khalll, 
 which is against the castle — he will direct thee further. 
 Depart with my peace. By my beard, thou art mighty like my 
 son — mighty like Mansur — may Allah blast him ! " 
 
 Said lingered to question further, bidding Allah witness 
 that to injure a Nazarene would give him the keenest pleasure, 
 but he must have some notion of what would be expected of 
 him. He was curious, too, to know why he, of all the city, 
 
100 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 had been singled out for confidence; but the old beggaf 
 checked him with, — 
 
 "To-morrow, when thou hast weighed the matter, I will 
 enlighten thee. Thou calledst thyself Emir when first I met 
 thee in the olive grove. It may be others shall so call thee 
 after a year or two if thou consent to throw in thy lot with me. 
 Go in safety, O my dear ! " 
 
 When he emerged again on the rough pavement before the 
 mosque it was to find it deserted save by skulking dogs, and 
 the stars intent upon it. The muezzin had long ago ceased 
 chanting up in the gallery of the minaret. He had turned his 
 face upon the spot where he had left Selim, when, — 
 
 " I am here, O Said," came a low voice from close behind 
 him. 
 
 Glancing back he beheld his partner dragging their basket 
 out of the gloom of the near wall, where he had been squatting. 
 He must have overheard all. Said turned on him fiercely, 
 ready to fly at his throat. 
 
 " What dost thou here ? Did I not bid thee await me over 
 yonder? Art thou my keeper, and am I a child that thou 
 must needs dog and spy upon me ? " 
 
 "Nay, O my brother, be not angry with Sehm ! I listened 
 not, though a word reached me now and then. How could I 
 suffer my friend to be alone with a stranger in a place of evil 
 seeming? — I know only that he tempted thee to forsake a 
 thriving business and Selim who is thy brother, and to cast in 
 thy lot with him who is known for a beggar. Also I heard 
 him appoint the house of a certain woman where thou mightest 
 find him. The house of Nur is infamous for a place of sin, 
 the chosen resort of the most wicked." His tone grew sad 
 and reproachful as Said took the spare handle of the basket 
 and they set forward once more. 
 
 " In what have I failed, O my brother, that thou shouldst 
 desire to leave me ? Have we not all things in common ? 
 Have I withheld aught from thee that was mine to give ? I 
 have great love for thee, O Said, because of the days we have 
 toiled together and the nights we have slept side by side. 
 Also I am bound to thee for the sake of that rich robe thy 
 kindness bestowed, which procures me honour in the sight of 
 all men. Heed not, I entreat thee, the words of this stranger, 
 but continue with me. It is slow — not so ? — this laying of a 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 101 
 
 little to a little. But in this business of ours, with care wealth 
 is sure at all events in the end, whereas the fortune which 
 he holds out to thee may come suddenly and without pain, but 
 it is not sure. I once heard a wise man say that wealth gained 
 without labour does not profit a man. He that said it was old 
 and had been rich; I believe that he knew." 
 
 They threaded the stinking black tunnels and climbed the 
 foul steps which led to their room. There, having set down 
 the basket in a corner, Sellm busied himself with getting a 
 light and then went out to fetch some supper from a cook- 
 house, leaving his friend sitting thoughtful on a cushion by 
 the wall. After a while Said rose and went out also, mount- 
 ing to the roof of the house by an obscure stairway. Alone 
 under the stars, with the murmur of the city like a floating 
 veil around him, he prayed and gave thanks to Allah, facing 
 southwards to where the dark mountains frowned like a strong- 
 hold. When he returned Sehm had ready a mess of lentils 
 such as he loved and smiled to him to fall to. 
 
 Said fell on his friend's neck and kissed him. 
 
 " By Allah, thou art a good man ! " he cried. " Kinder than 
 r brother hast thou been to me. May Allah blot, me out if 
 ever I forsake thee ! " 
 
XVII 
 
 AT sunrise Said sat with the old beggar in the vault of 
 Nur the harlot. A beam of young daylight glanced 
 through the open door on the worn flags of steps which led 
 down from the alley without. A dewy mist of dawn flooded 
 also a kind of small court, like a shaft between the houses, 
 which pertained to the cellar and gave air and light to it 
 through two open arches of masonry. By one of these arches 
 a stone stairway was seen mounting up along the wall to a 
 platform or landing, formed of a single slab, which was the 
 doorstep of an upper chamber. There was a sumptuous room, 
 old Mustafa told Said in an ecstatic whisper, softly carpeted 
 and furnished with couches such as the maids of Paradise 
 would not disdain. It was there that lovers of distinction met 
 by Nur's contriving and spent happy hours together. 
 
 Abu Khalil, the taverner of whom, according to the advice 
 of Mustafa, Said had inquired his way, had wagged his fat 
 head knowingly when questioned concerning this woman. 
 
 "The shameful name sticks," he had said, "being like 
 pitch — very hard to rub off. Yet she is now a recognised 
 matchmaker and has access to every harim. Young men 
 who would have sight of their betrothed find a friend in her, 
 and ladies who love other than their lords employ her, it may 
 be, as a go-between. I speak not of my own knowledge," he 
 had added, shaking the dust from his robe. " That is what 
 is said of her. . . . Thou askest why does she harbour a 
 beggar? Allah knows! It may be she has a liking for 
 Mustafa, who is a queer old man and says things to make one 
 laugh. It may be that he gathers news which is useful to her 
 in her business. There be many who bless her — this is sure. 
 Perhaps a few curse her — that is not known." 
 
 Said found her tall and upright, strong and masterful as a 
 man. She was quite old in spite of the enamel mask of pink 
 
 102 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 103 
 
 and white which hid her wrinkles. Darkening matter artfully 
 rubbed under her eyes to give them a languishing look could 
 not altogether conceal the crow's-feet beneath, and the eyes 
 themselves had the hard, unnatural lustre of jewels, very 
 different from the sparkle of youth. Her brown fingers, which 
 she did not whiten until after noon, were loaded with rings, of 
 which the large common stones — sard and coarse amethyst, 
 onyx and amber — stood out like bunions. Bracelets and 
 armlets of tarnished brass and silver rattled and clanked like 
 fetters with every movement of her limbs ; strings of glass 
 beads and amulets of all kinds adorned her scraggy neck and 
 her bosom. She was kneeling just then by the brazier, with 
 swelled cheeks fanning a feeble glow that was loth to become 
 a fire. She wore no veil, being at home, but the hood of her 
 blue garment, richly embroidered with gold thread, which she 
 cculd draw across her face when bash fulness was required of 
 her. . 
 
 The old beggar sat with Said on the threshold of a dark 
 inner room, of whose furniture no more was* discernible 
 through the doorway than a cushioned divan running round 
 the walls. He was talking eagerly and fondling Said's hand, 
 touching now his leg, now his arm, as if he gloried in the 
 strength of his new ally. 
 
 "Now thou knowest why I have chosen thee and no 
 other," he was saying. " I loved thee on that day when first 
 I saw thee because of thy likeness to my son, Mansur. Since 
 then I have been to thy city, where all men tell of thy flight 
 as a strange thing. It was not known whither thou wast fled 
 nor why, nor to what purpose. But I, being shrewd, asked 
 them : Who profits by his departure ? and they told me, 
 'Abdullah abu Aziz, for the house and the fig-tree and the 
 nets of Said are fallen to him.' (Ah, he is a clever one — that 
 Abdullah ! — one who will surely rise to honour. I sat once 
 in a tavern where he spoke of thee as a dear brother he had 
 lost.) I perceived clearly that this Said the Fisherman of 
 whom they talked was no other than the Emir Said with whom 
 I conversed by the way. I thought much of thee for the 
 sake of my son, Mansur, who forsook me, and also because 
 I knew thee destitute. When a man has nothing he is not 
 particular what work he undertake if only there be profit 
 in it, and I stood greatly in need of such an one to help 
 
104 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 me in the business which thou wottest of. By my head, when 
 I saw thee last evening in the street my heart leapt with joy 
 as if thou hadst been in truth my son. Allah is merciful ! 
 
 " Now, hear the story why I hate Yuhanna the Nazarene. 
 Attend now and judge whether I have not cause enough to 
 execrate him. Many years ago I slew my sister with this right 
 hand." He sank his voice to a whisper with a meaning glance 
 at the old woman. " She would have become even as Nur 
 there, I tell thee, had I suffered her to live. He lured her to 
 the city, and then, after he was sated, he cast her out and 
 placed her in a house of shame of which he was owner. But 
 I found her. We were but poor fellahin of no honour or 
 account, yet not one of all my family but would have done 
 as I did. I slew her and she bared her own breast to the 
 knife. 
 
 " It was in the days of Ibrahim Basha the Egyptian — a 
 good time, by Allah, though one must not say so now that the 
 Turks are again our masters. But there was strict justice for 
 all men then, a Christian being the equal of a Muslim in the 
 eyes of the Government. I went to the house of the Cadi and 
 I kissed the earth between his feet, and I told him all my 
 story as if it had been a figment of my own brain. I asked 
 him : ■ What would your honour do if it had been his sister ? " 
 and he replied, ■ By Allah, I would slay her and destroy that 
 infidel with all his father's house.' 
 
 " I answered : ■ Good, O my Lord : the first I have accom- 
 plished ; the second I will perfect ere I die.' At first he was 
 angry at the fraud, for he had supposed me a professed tale- 
 teller ; but afterwards he laughed, and called me a rogue, and 
 bade me mind to do nothing which the law forbids. 
 
 "The dog Yuhanna and the old jackal, his father, were 
 rich after the manner of unbelievers, that is to say secretly and 
 by foul means. Acting as the agents of a notable of this city 
 they lent money to us villagers wherewith to buy seed and 
 took the greater part of the harvest in payment. Between 
 them and the tithe-farmer there was little left for us on our 
 threshing-floors. They lent money also to the great ones of 
 the Government and claimed no payment at all, thus gaining 
 protection and influence beyond all others of their accursed 
 race. After the abduction of Lulu, my sister, they conceived 
 a hatred for my father's house. They persecuted us — may 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 105 
 
 Allah quench the fire on their hearth! Ah, they were 
 clever!" 
 
 He raised eyes and hands to the vaulted roof and 
 remained thus a minute lost in admiration of their 
 subtlety. 
 
 "There came a bad harvest. They clamoured for im- 
 mediate payment of the seed they had advanced to us, pre- 
 tending to act merely as bailiffs for Muhammed Effendi, but 
 the mind of the unbeliever was well seen in what followed. 
 Our houses became the property of the notable, so they said, 
 the property of Muhammed Effendi, but in practice theirs. 
 My father and my brethren lived on in the village ; they were 
 like trees which have struck deep root in the ground, which to 
 transplant is to kill. But I, being young and full of pride, 
 chose rather to roam the land as a beggar than to feed as a 
 slave from the hand of my enemy. I have had much joy of 
 life since then, yet have I never forgotten the shame of my 
 house nor the oath which I swore solemnly before the Cadi 
 himself. And now that the allotted hour grows nigh, behold, 
 Allah sends thee to me in the nick of time. By my beard, 1 
 blame thee not for forsaking thy woman ; it seems to me 
 that thou didst well to get rid of her. What use, I ask, 
 in keeping her since thou sayest she was barren? And 
 thou art more serviceable to me as a lone man. Allah 
 is just!" He thought fit to embrace his new adherent and 
 slobber over him in a very fatherly way, much to Said's 
 annoyance. 
 
 " Enough ! enough ! " muttered the fisherman, pushing him 
 off. "Of a surety I will aid thee in this business. But tell 
 me, I pray thee, O my uncle, how came thy hand to be 
 withered." 
 
 The old beggar threw back his head and laughed so that 
 the whole roof of his mouth was displayed and its horse-shoe 
 of broken yellow teeth. The subject considered, such merri- 
 ment was frightful to Said ; it made him shudder. The woman 
 started up in alarm to her full height, and, with an oath, pro- 
 nounced him mad. 
 
 " Ah, ha, ha ! I have a withered hand. It is curious — not 
 so ? Know then that it befell me in this wise : While I was 
 yet new to the work I met a beggar who had his arm withered 
 to the shoulder like the dead branch of a tree. He told me 
 
106 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 that it brought him great wealth and marvelled much how I 
 could move pity, being whole and in the best of health. 
 Inquiring if he had been born like that, he laughed at me for 
 a simpleton. He said it is easy — nothing easier in all the 
 world ; and he promised to teach me the way of it. I had 
 thought to take service as a muleteer or otherwise, but the 
 talk of his riches and his merry life changed my mind. We 
 were together two days and became friends. On the third 
 day we reached the town and he sought out a certain dervish 
 and brought me to him. I went in whole and sound even as 
 thou art ; I eame forth with this hand in the state thou seest. 
 It is a trick — no more. At first one has to be careful lest the 
 blood should flow back to it ; but that is all. It has been my 
 stock-in-trade, the head of my wealth." 
 
 Of a sudden he bent down and pinched Said's leg raptur- 
 ously. " Aha, what a leg ! Behold, O Nur, how stout and 
 strong it is ! I know one in the city who would treat it for 
 thee — up to the knee ! By Allah, that is all I ask — only to 
 the knee ! Ah, it would look sweet — beautiful ! It would 
 bring tears to any man's eyes when he compared it with its 
 brother, and on one so young. Only up to the knee ; what 
 sayest thou? I tell thee, my dear, there is wealth 
 in it — money — much money ! But no, alas ! it cannot 
 be; for all thy strength may be needed in the work of 
 vengeance." 
 
 There was something foul and inhuman about this 
 rhapsody which made Said kick and edge away with loathing 
 as from the touch of a ghoul. The old beggar eyed him re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 "Ah, now thou art very like Mansur — very like my son ! " 
 he murmured, with a remembering shake of his head. 
 " Mansur would never consent to have so much as a finger 
 treated, though I besought him with tears for hours together. 
 The young are ever so boastful of strength and blind to their 
 own advantage. And now, O my soul, if thou art ready I 
 will show thee the house of Yuhanna the Nazarene that 
 thou mayest know it among others for the house of an 
 enemy." 
 
 He rose and went to where Nur was munching bread and 
 olives, with jaws cramped by the stiff coat of paint on her 
 cheeks. He whispered a few words to her, while Said stretched 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 107 
 
 himself and yawned, glad to breathe free of a place which the 
 queer behaviour of his new friend had rendered distasteful. 
 Then together they mounted the broken stairs and issued 
 forth into the dewy shadow in which the newly-risen sun 
 steeped the narrow roadway. 
 
XVIII 
 
 MUSTAFA led on by unfrequented tunnels and passages 
 avoiding as far as might be the main streets, where 
 professional pride obliged him to put on an appearance of 
 extreme feebleness and whine despairingly as one in the clutch 
 of a devil. At last, in a narrow lane between high walls, with 
 never a lattice, he stopped before a low door which was open. 
 
 "This is the house of the pig — the house of Yuhanna!" 
 he whispered. " I will enter — it is the beggar's privilege. 
 Do thou follow as far as thou canst without being seen ! " 
 
 A narrow passage turned at right angles after a few yards, 
 so that the interior of the house could not be looked into from 
 the street. This notion of an entrance the wealthier Christians 
 and Jews had borrowed from their Muslim neighbours. With 
 the latter it secured the harlm from wanton intrusion when 
 taking air in the courtyard, as common politeness prompts 
 every visitor to cry aloud on crossing a threshold. In the 
 case of the former it served chiefly to screen the inner luxury 
 of the house from envious eyes, and so preserve its owner 
 from extortion or robbery. In each instance plenty of rubbish 
 and offal was strewn at the outer gate and the passage main- 
 tained in as foul a state as possible, as a blind to the tax- 
 gatherer going his round of observation, that the house might 
 be assessed at a low rate. 
 
 On turning the corner Said was quite unprepared for the 
 scene of splendour which burst upon his sight. There was a 
 small quadrangle of two storeys high, its walls inlaid with 
 arabesque figures as a frieze under the roof and as medallions 
 between the windows. The pavement, worn uneven in places, 
 was arranged in a chequer of black and white stone. A few 
 lemon-trees in the centre formed a bower over a tank of clear 
 water fed by a freshet that flowed through the midst of the 
 court in a toy channel. But what charmed him and held his 
 
 108 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 109 
 
 eyes, to the exclusion of all other beauties, was a girl twelve 
 or thirteen years of age, with black hair plaited in two long 
 tresses, and a skin like cream. She was playing with a baby 
 boy in the rich shadow beyond the space of sunlight. A 
 creeping plant upon the wall behind her had large green 
 leaves and trumpet-flowers of gorgeous purple. A pair of 
 white butterflies flirted above her head just where the sunlight 
 veiled the shadow in golden dust. 
 
 Her laughter, ringing clear and silvery in Said's ears, 
 seemed part of the spell which held him motionless there, at 
 the angle of the passage, with a new hunger in his eyes. He 
 licked his lips, which were parched of a sudden, and tingled 
 from head to foot. 
 
 The old beggar tottered across the open space of sunshine, 
 making a great clatter with his staff upon the pavement. 
 
 " Allah will give to thee, O my lady ! I am a poor man 
 and very old. . . . Have pity ! . . . O Lord ! . . . See, I have a 
 hand that is withered ! Allah will give to thee ! . . . For the 
 love of Allah, help me or I die. O mistress of beauty, O 
 daughter of kindness, turn not thy face from my misery ! . . . 
 O Lord ! . . . Allah will give to thee ! " 
 
 Said watched every movement of the girl ravenously, 
 feeling uplifted by a great yearning. He saw her start in 
 terror at the first sound of the old rascal's plaint; but fear 
 changed swiftly to compassion, and, with a gesture bidding 
 him wait, she disappeared in the gloom of a doorway, His 
 eyes remained steadfast on the place where she had last 
 been. 
 
 The old beggar stooped down as if to fondle the little child, 
 but in reality to pinch him spitefully. A howl of pain uprose, 
 which the honeyed words of Mustafa, spoken soothingly in a 
 loud and whining voice, were powerless to abate. 
 
 Presently the girl returned, followed closely by an old 
 woman, who seemed a servant. With a smile which caught at 
 Said's breath she put some money in the old man's palm and 
 bade him go in peace. Mustafa kissed her lily hand re- 
 peatedly, while the old serving-woman took the baby in her 
 arms and strove to quiet it. Then he hobbled away, ceasing 
 not to praise Allah in a loud voice, calling down all blessings 
 on the illustrious lady's head, till he was in the gloom of the 
 passage close to Said, when he muttered, with virulence, — 
 
110 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 " May the girl be ravished ! May her father be slain 
 before her eyes, and her little brother butchered in her arms ! 
 Allah witness, I have waited long enough. The hour of the 
 ruin of this house draws nigh." 
 
 "She is a darling — a pearl!" breathed Said in his ear. 
 " I am sick for love of her. As one athirst in the desert 
 craves a cup of water, so is my desire for her. O my soul ! 
 O my eyes ! O my beloved ! r 
 
 They were out in the street by this time. The narrow way 
 was very quiet, the sun beating down fiercely upon it. There 
 was no one in sight. 
 
 The old beggar stopped short and confronted Said, striking 
 his stick on the paving-stones. 
 
 "Thou sayest well," he hissed, surprise and glee together 
 in his eyes, " very well ! By Allah's leave thou shalt enjoy 
 her — if it were my last word, thou shalt possess her; so the 
 dishonour of my father's house shall be fitly avenged. Allah 
 reward thee, O Said ! child of my soul. A young man's 
 passion sees further at times than an old man's forethought. 
 Wait a little while in patience. The faithful grow mad against 
 these pagans, who sit in high places by favour of the Franks 
 they serve. I see the wrath of Islam gather like a storm- 
 cloud black and low over the dwellings of the infidels. I hear 
 the voice of the thunder afar off. The heavens quiver because 
 of the white lightning. A little while and the storm will burst 
 to overwhelm the whole race of them." 
 
 Leaning on his staff, the old man lifted pious eyes to the 
 strip of living blue stretche4 like an awning above the high 
 white walls. There was something noble in his bearing as a 
 prophet denouncing the wicked. For the first time Said felt 
 in awe of him. 
 
 "If Allah will thou shalt have her, I say ! Of a truth 
 thou lackest not understanding. I who am wise had never 
 thought of it in all the years that I ponder the matter. Now 
 thou art dearer to me than Mansur — dearer than my own son ! 
 Have a little patience and I warrant thee thou shalt have her. 
 Only forget not, when thy desire is spent, to put her away into 
 a house of shame. Forget not that, I say, for it is the crown- 
 ing point ! So shall my vengeance be perfect. Praise be to 
 Allah!" 
 
 " May Allah increase thy wealth," said the fisherman, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 111 
 
 moistening his lips. "By the Coran, I care nothing for 
 the treasure of the Christian pig so that I may have his 
 daughter." 
 
 " Thou shalt have her and half of the treasure as well," 
 said Mustafa, rapturously, as they moved forward ; " and when 
 I die the whole of the treasure will fall to thee. Let Mansur 
 cleave to his leprous wife ; I wash my hands of the dirt of him, 
 for he is no more my son. In truth, I am very happy. I 
 must not stretch out my hand to-day, for glad laughter would 
 come in the midst of my plaint, and who would give to a joyful 
 beggar ? Come with me to the house of Abu Khalil, where the 
 coffee is worth a Turkish pound each cupful ..." 
 
 He broke off and collapsed in a second from a hale and 
 upright old man to a starving wretch with one foot in the 
 grave. His withered hand thrust out before him, he tottered 
 along, leaning heavily upon the staff ; and his piteous moans 
 wrung their meed of compassion from the heart of every 
 passer-by. Said followed a few paces in his rear. Thus they 
 traversed the junction of three busy markets — a place thronged 
 to overflowing with a hustling, multi-coloured crowd, through 
 which a train of camels laden with pelts were pushing a 
 slow way, not without frantic shouting on the part of their 
 drivers. 
 
 Striking into a dark and deserted byway, Mustafa 
 resumed his natural shape. Said was inclined to be loud in 
 his admiration of these rapid changes ; but the old beggar 
 dismissed all such flattery by a majestic wave of his 
 hand. 
 
 " It is habit, O my son ! After well-nigh forty years 
 of practice thou couldst do it as well as I — perhaps better — 
 Allah knows!" 
 
XIX 
 
 ABU KHALIL, the fat taverner, sat in the doorway oi his 
 shop, blinking at the sunlight on the rough stones of 
 the castle wall. Piercing cries of importunate salesmen, 
 warning shouts of donkey-boys and muleteers — all the hubbub 
 of the neighbouring market reached him as a hum of insects. 
 He nodded with it after the manner of the very fat, to whom 
 the world's bustle is a perpetual lullaby. 
 
 A few dogs lay stretched in the sun's eye as if they had 
 a mind to be well roasted throughout. Beneath a dirty 
 awning, spread to shelter a stall of candies and sherbet, a 
 white-turban ed negro, its owner, was dozing in the yellow 
 shade beside his wares, his cheek reposing on a certain dainty 
 of white sugar, fine-spun and silky, which hung tangled tresses 
 over the end of a wooden case. A tod of hyssop, springing 
 from a rift in the old stonework, had dusty leaves and 
 looked sickly in contrast with its pendant of deep shadow. 
 A green lizard slumbered on a jutting stone. Abu Khalil 
 blinked at all these things until they mixed in rosy haze before 
 his eyes. The lizard seemed to fall upon the awning, the 
 negro and his sweetmeats were lifted up to meet it, the hyssop 
 swelled to a great tree, and Abu Khalll's head dropped 
 forward with a grunt of surrender. 
 
 When Said and the old beggar came upon him he was 
 fast asleep and snoring. His fat chin formed three several 
 folds upon his breast, his hands were clasped loosely upon his 
 well-filled girdle. He looked up with a start as their shadows 
 fell short and black on the cobbles before him ; but it was 
 more likely the clap of their slippers which awakened him. 
 With a noise between a camel's groan and the puff of a 
 swimmer he half rose to welcome them. The huge mass 
 moved grudgingly, forming strange creases at the joints. 
 
 " May thy day be happy, O Mustafa ! How is business ? * 
 112 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 113 
 
 he muttered sleepily, and fell back at once to the restful 
 posture which suited his bulk. His glance of recognition at 
 Said was keener, being mixed with curiosity. 
 
 " So thou didst find thy way, effendi ? I am happy." His 
 eyes expressed an indolent wish to know what could have drawn 
 a young man whose beard was nicely trimmed, who was clad in 
 a decent robe of striped silk not very greasy, to consort with 
 that aged scapegrace. 
 
 " What is there to eat ? " asked Mustafa, choosing a seat 
 within the tavern. " This day is a festival with me, for I have 
 recovered my son who was lost. So I said to my soul : O Soul, 
 we must rejoice and be lazy until the evening, because it has 
 pleased Allah to restore my son to me who have been long 
 desolate. Furthermore I said : O Soul, we will repair to the 
 house of Abu KhalU, the illustrious — may Allah preserve him 
 to us ! — where the coffee is worth a Turkish pound the cupful, 
 and the smell of the fried beans would make a prince hungry. 
 Ah, beans are excellent, O my uncle, and it is near noon. 
 What hast thou in the house ? " 
 
 The fat host returned thanks for the flattering terms in 
 which this demand was couched by half-rising as before, 
 saluting, and wagging his head humbly. He called upon 
 Allah to shower all blessings on the head of his friend 
 Mustafa, to make him happy in his son ; and then in the same 
 breath — a long one for him — shouted crossly to someone 
 within, by the name of Camr-ud-dln, to pound coffee with all 
 speed and prepare a mess of beans to fry. Then the 
 spark of excitement died down and he became torpid once 
 more. 
 
 Said and his adopted father were earnest in their discus- 
 sion of the beans when they appeared. The bowl might have 
 been licked out by dogs, so clean they left it. Each drank 
 two cupfuls of the famous coffee and accepted the offer of a 
 narghileh. And then their words became ever less frequent, 
 until they went the way of Abu Khalil, falling fast asleep one 
 after the other. 
 
 For hours they dozed on by fits and starts. The place was 
 very quiet except for a distant murmur from without, soothing 
 as the sough of reeds in the wind, and an occasional din of 
 pots and pans from the inner closet, where Camr-ud-din and 
 his mother were always at work. 
 H 
 
114 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 When at last Said became wide awake it was towards 
 evening and the tavern was crowded. With strained knuckles 
 he rubbed the cobwebs of a dream from his eyes and let off 
 the remains of sleep in a mighty yawn. Mustafa had re- 
 moved his stool to a little distance, so as to be within earshot 
 of a group whose talk appeared to interest him greatly. 
 
 A young man, who seemed of consequence, was holding 
 forth to a half-circle of humble admirers hanging upon his 
 words with mouths agape. His turban, finely embroidered, 
 bound a fez which, if not new, was certainly newly-blocked. 
 His overcoat of emerald green, falling loose to his heels when 
 he stood upright, was edged all over with fur. It was now 
 flung carelessly open, displaying a robe of striped silk, own 
 brother to that which Said wore, though the relationship was 
 somewhat obscured in the latter's case by dirt. The gravity 
 with which he stroked his beard, at the same time letting his 
 keen brown eyes range over the faces of his hearers, was very 
 impressive. The confidence of his speech, and the rhetorical 
 flourishes with which he emphasised each point, spoke him a 
 lawyer, and might have spared him the frequent statement of 
 his calling. Following the example of his companion, Said 
 hitched forward his stool to listen. " I that am a lawyer and 
 know what right is — I tell you," the orator was saying, •* that 
 this state of things cannot endure. It is not to be borne. In 
 the olden time, when the infidels were duly held in subjection 
 under us, was there any strife ? — I ask you, was there any such 
 bitter hatred as there is nowadays ? The fault lies with the 
 Franks, who play the rulers in this land and presume to guide 
 the hand of the Government Is the Sultan the servant of 
 any man that they should thus lord it in his dominions ? But 
 two months since occurred a flagrant instance of their 
 meddling, when a judgment of his Eminence, the Mufti, 
 against a certain Nazarene was set aside as a thing of nought 
 by the Waly's order. And for what reason ? " 
 
 The lawyer spread out his hands and smiled fiercely. 
 
 "And why? Think you that his Excellency, the Waly, 
 would incline to act thus of his own volition ? Never ! It 
 was because certain of the Frankish consuls went to him and 
 said in his ear that Fulan was under foreign protection. Is 
 the pride of IslUm dead that such things are borne with 
 meekness ? Is the tiger become a lamb ? . . . I ask all of 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 115 
 
 you here — Who is the governor of Damashc-ush-Sham ? — and 
 you tell me, His Excellency, Ahmed Basha, his honour, 
 the Waly. I say no ! and again no ! Ahmed Basha — may 
 Allah preserve him ! — and all who bear rightful authority over 
 us are but the servants of the Franks. . . . Behold they 
 gather upon us like vultures, they contend which shall have 
 the greatest share of the spoil — that is, of the wealth of Islam. 
 Woe is me, for the end of all things draws nigh ! The cross 
 is set above the crescent, the feet above the head. If any 
 oppose them they cry aloud to their masters, the powers of 
 Europe, and great ships are sent across the sea to lay waste 
 our coasts ; as was done, you may remember, not two years 
 since at Jedda, where the townsfolk had risen as one man to 
 exterminate the Christians. O Allah, Most High, how long 
 must these things be? How long wilt Thou suffer the 
 heathen to triumph over Thy faithful?" 
 
 He paused with hands and eyes upraised. A fierce 
 murmur of applause spread to the uttermost corners of the 
 room. All the idlers had left their talk to listen. One or two 
 that were unbelievers slunk out at the door, thankful for the 
 excitement which allowed them to escape unheeded. 
 
 "The Turks themselves are not much better than the 
 Franks," said a short man, hardily. " They say that the Sultan 
 is a pagan secretly. It is sure that his likeness — a thing 
 forbidden and accursed — hangs over his head where he sleeps. 
 Ah, if we sons of the Arab had but a Khalifa of our own race 
 we would shake off the Franks as a waking man brushes fleas 
 from his raiment ! " 
 
 An awe-stricken hush followed this bold utterance. All 
 looked to the lawyer, whose eyes were wrathful on the rash 
 man who dared to speak treason in his presence in a public 
 place. Himself had no great cause to love the Turks, but 
 spies were everywhere, and it was always wise to speak good 
 of the authorities. Besides, he hoped one day to obtain the 
 post of Cadi, and to that end was anxious to stand well with 
 the Government. Very sternly, therefore, he bade that mad- 
 man hold his peace. The rebuke he thought fit to administer 
 was thickly interspersed with praise of all the Sultan's 
 delegates, from Ahmed Pasha, the nervous old general set to 
 rule over a turbulent province, to himself who hoped some 
 day to be Cadi. Then, when the seditious one had no more 
 
116 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 treason left in him, but was become limp all over and hung his 
 head, he took up the burden of his previous speech. 
 
 " These Christians wax rich. They multiply beyond 
 measure while our numbers dwindle by reason of the 
 thousands of our young men who are slain in war. The 
 Christians furnish no men to the army ; they swoon 
 at sight of a sword or a gun. Yet they murmur 
 because a tax is required of them in place of soldiers. 
 They go weeping to their consuls because each of them is 
 obliged to pay — it may be twelve piastres a year ! Of old, as 
 is well-known, all the world that is under the hand of the 
 Sultan was divided into two houses — the House of Islam and 
 the House of War. Now the Nazarenes, being dwellers in the 
 House of War, had to pay, each man, a small sum yearly for 
 his life. It was just, for are they not the vanquished and 
 their lives duly forfeit to Islam. Now, by favour of the 
 Government, that tax is remitted, and the bedelieh askerleh 
 laid on them instead. Yet they grumble, saying that the tax 
 — a very light one — is too heavy for them to bear. Are they 
 not rich ? Do they not thrive and grow fat among us by trade 
 and usury ? The Frankish consuls, I tell you, are the root 
 of their discontent. They stir them up to anger us, that there 
 may be an excuse to destroy us. The Franks move us all as 
 pieces in a game. They pit us one against another and stand 
 by, ready to fall upon the conqueror and overcome him while 
 he is weary. O day of misfortune ! O day of ruin for the 
 Faith! 
 
 " You have heard how a Nazarene did lately pollute the 
 har\m of a respected Muslim in this city. The culprit — 
 Jurji by name — is now in prison awaiting his doom. Of right 
 he should die, for a man's house is a sacred place and a breach 
 of hospitality is the blackest of all crimes in the sight of Allah. 
 Yet it is known that a Frankish consul — one who has the ear 
 of the Waly — is active on his behalf. He may be released 
 without punishment. What say you to that ? Is so great a 
 wrong to be borne tamely? Since these things are so, were 
 it not seemly that the faithful should rise as one man against 
 the heathen and slay every living soul of them, and burn 
 their houses with fire ? Allah is just ! " 
 
 The sun had set behind the mountains and twilight was 
 stealing on the street without. The shadow in the tavern 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 117 
 
 from being blue and limpid was become black and opaque. 
 The coo of the doves floated on a tired murmur. Through 
 the open door the negro merchant was seen to take down his 
 awning, bestow his wares carefully in a battered packing-case, 
 and finally to invert the trestle which served him for a stall, 
 and laying the case and the folded awning between the legs, 
 drag it away with him. The wall which closed the outlook 
 was pale and dead-looking, the bush of hyssop making a dark 
 blot upon it. Abu Khalil was awake at last. He stood by 
 the threshold of the inner room, trimming a lantern with 
 ponderous leisure. 
 
 The old beggar leaned forward with flaming eyes. He 
 laid his sound hand on the delicate woof of the lawyer's 
 sleeve. 
 
 " I am with thee, effendi ! n he cried. " Whenever the cry 
 of the Faith is raised, Mustafa will be ready ! I will spare 
 none of them ! " he yelled with sudden frenzy — " not one ! 
 Old men and young, women and little ones, shall die, and in 
 their death I will spit upon them and spurn them with my 
 foot. But the girls, effendi " — he sank his voice to an eager 
 whisper — "the girls should not be slain. There are sweet 
 ones among them — not so, Said, my son? They whose 
 fathers hate and revile the Faith shall give birth to true 
 believers. Each one of them shall suckle a Muslim at her 
 white breasts. I am with thee, I say ! But wait, thou hast 
 not heard what was done to my sister, nor yet the oath which 
 I swore before the Cadi in the time of Ibrahim Basha the 
 Egyptian. Aha, that is a good story — capital ! . . . " 
 
 With a gesture of contempt and impatience, in which 
 there was a leaven of terror, the lawyer shook himself free of 
 the old man's grasp. 
 
 " Thou art mad ! " he exclaimed. " What have I in 
 common with thee ? " Then a little ashamed of the fear he 
 had shown, he continued, in a very firm voice, — 
 
 "Am I he that gives orders to the faithful? I do but 
 utter that which every believer knows to be true. You have 
 heard how it has been foretold that when the first of the 
 sevens shall fall the ruin of Islam will begin; when time 
 shall invert the second it shall be completed. Are we not 
 now in the year 1277 of the Hejra? The first of the sevens 
 is about to fall, and with the third year hence the second 
 
118 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 will fall in its turn. In the insolence of the Nazarenes and 
 the growing power of their protectors we see the seed of 
 destruction. If the sun of the Faith must set — which Allah 
 forbid ! — I say let its setting be like unto its rising long ago \ 
 Let flames of burning houses lick the sky, and the blood of 
 the idolaters flow like a great river. I foresee war. It breaks 
 out in the Mountain, where the Mowarni openly declare them- 
 selves to be subject to the French alone. They grow boastful 
 and overrate their strength. Soon they will provoke the 
 Druz, who, though less numerous than they, are braver by a 
 great deal and better skilled in warfare. Who but Allah can 
 foresee the end of it? But I, being a lawyer and learned, 
 tell you that as a spark falling amid a heap of touchwood, so 
 is a little war in a land of discontent. Though but ten men 
 rise boldly against the heathen, in a few days there will be 
 slaughter from Haleb to Oman ! Allah be with you ! May 
 your evening be happy, O my friends ! " 
 
 With a slight reverence to the company, which called 
 forth a storm of compliment and blessing, he rose, and 
 gathering his furred garment about him sauntered forth into 
 the twilight. 
 
 Abu KhalU had lighted the lantern by this time, and it 
 hung from a hook beside the inner door. Its ruddy beams 
 shone on swarthy faces of excitement, turned one to another 
 in the flow of talk which comes, like a sigh of relief, after the 
 strain of a thrilling story. To most men there it was nothing 
 but a tale they had just heard ; a little more stirring, perhaps, 
 than other tales, because it told of a future they might all see 
 instead of a past which they had never known. They speedily 
 dispersed once more into groups, chatting eagerly of more 
 homely topics. 
 
 It was night — the time when devils lurk in every dark 
 entry and keep festival in every ruined dwelling. One man 
 told a gruesome story of how his brother once slew a jinni 
 by accident. It had happened in that very city, in a street 
 not a hundred paces from where they were sitting. Even at 
 that early hour the flesh of every listener crept deliciously, 
 and close-shorn heads put forth bristles under turbans. 
 
 His brother — the narrator laid proud stress on the 
 relationship — was belated one night on his return home. 
 His name was Kheyr-ud-dln, a good pious man and a true 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 119 
 
 believer. Walking down a certain street he came suddenly 
 to an unseen barrier. He could pass his hand along it as 
 along the surface of a wall ; the feel of it was smooth like 
 glass or tight skin. Yet there was nothing to be seen in the 
 way ; only the narrow lane in moonlight and shadow, and the 
 dogs prowling in search of offal. Then he espied what seemed 
 a sewn goat-skin for holding water, lying collapsed and empty 
 in the midst of the causeway. And as he looked, behold it 
 filled out and tightened, and began to roll. Kheyr-ud-din, 
 who was a pious man, praised Allah, and marvelled much to 
 see it rolling thus of itself, with none to push it nor any slope 
 of the ground to cause displacement. And as it rolled, lo ! 
 it grew and grew until it was huge like an elephant. Then he 
 began to be afraid, and desired to go quickly to his own 
 house. But the unseen wall prevented him, and all his 
 strength availed not to break through it. Then he cursed the 
 father of that wall, and its religion, and its aunt, and its first 
 cousins, and its offspring down to the third generation, kicking 
 it all the while and beating it with his hands. At last, being 
 very angry, he took the knife from his girdle — a sharp knife 
 with a fine handle inlaid of brass and silver — an heirloom in 
 the family. With that he struck at the barrier and it ripped 
 down like flesh. 
 
 There was a hideous shriek ; he was snatched suddenly 
 out of the moonlight and the streets and whisked away to a 
 place of darkness, where the king-jinni sat on a throne of 
 fire. All the people of the jan were there, lurid in the red 
 glow of their monarch's seat. The king's eyes were set slant- 
 wise in his head ; his ears were long and leaf-shaped like the 
 ears of a pig. He wore no turban nor any covering to his 
 head, which was bald and dome-shaped, of the same colour 
 as his face — that is to say mouse-colour. Flames shot from 
 his eyes as he leaned forward to frown on the prisoner. All 
 the people of the jan grinned horribly upon Kheyr-ud-dln, 
 and gave forth a hissing sound. He stood accused of slaying 
 one of them, by the name of Yusuf. In vain he disclaimed 
 all knowledge of the crime. 
 
 " Thou liar ! " said the king, turning a glance of fire upon 
 him, which burnt right through clothes and flesh, and shrivelled 
 the marrow of his bones. " Didst thou not rip open his belly 
 with thy knife there in the open street? Is not his death- 
 
120 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 shriek yet present in our ears ? By my head, thou shalt die 
 for it ! " 
 
 And all the people of the jan yelled frightfully, " He shall 
 die ! He shall die ! " 
 
 Then in his great distress he called aloud upon the name of 
 Allah ; when lo ! in a trice he was back once more in the 
 quiet street, and there was no barrier nor any waterskin, but 
 only a few dogs skulking in the moonlight. 
 
 Another spoke of serpents. 
 
 "There is a kind of snake," he said, "which has his dwell- 
 ing on the skirts of the desert. He has neither head nor 
 tail, but is round like to a pigeon. When one approaches 
 him he does not hiss like other snakes, but barks like a 
 jackal, and picks himself up and hurls himself at the man. 
 You may laugh at what I tell you, but, by Allah, it is extremely 
 true. My grandfather shot one of that kind with a gun 
 which is now mine. I will show it you if you will favour me 
 with a visit at my house. It is a good gun, and I wish to sell 
 it. It is worth much money. ,; 
 
 Quoth another, — 
 
 " By the Coran, but thy pigeon-snake is a light thing as 
 compared with the mighty serpent of which I have heard old 
 men speak. He traversed the land of old, devouring all 
 things, even men and women, until at last he slid down from 
 the crest of the mountain, glided under the sea as under the 
 lid of a box, and was no more seen. He was clothed all over 
 with long hair, part black, part white, like a goat's ; and his 
 length was a day's journey from head to tail. Allah have 
 mercy — a strange thing ! " 
 
 Said would gladly have drawn near to listen. It was a 
 kind of talk that pleased him, as befitting the hour. The 
 tavern reeked of good cheer, the company was numerous 
 enough to preclude real terror, while a glimpse of the grue- 
 some, populous night from the open door gave a shuddering 
 zest to each new story. The cellar of Nur, too, where he was 
 to sleep, was not far distant, and he was sure of Mustafa's 
 company in the walk thither. He burned to tell a marvellous 
 story of what had befallen his uncle on a journey into Masr. 
 The yarn had become popular, almost proverbial, in his 
 native town, where it was known as Said the Fisherman's story 
 of the Blue Afrit. Of all the dwellers in Damashc-ush-Sham, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 121 
 
 SeRm alone had heard it. The adventures of other men's 
 kindred dwindled to everynight blunders wherever it was 
 told. 
 
 But the beggar's skinny hand clutched his arm, enforcing 
 attention. He yawned as he hearkened to the old man's raving 
 of blood and vengeance. The wild looks and wilder talk of 
 his companion made him fear that he had cast in his lot with 
 a madman. But when Mustafa gripped his arm tighter and 
 looked into his eyes, and laughed, saying, " Aha ! that was 
 a good thought of thine. By the Coran, I hold thee 
 dearer than Mansur — dearer than my own son ! Shalt have 
 her, dost understand? In sh' Allah, thou shalt possess her!" 
 Said was reassured on the score of his sanity. 
 
 Abu Khalll, the fat taverner, looking round benignly upon 
 the faces of his guests, marvelled much in his sleepy way to 
 observe those two speak so earnestly together. Mustafa was 
 hatching some beggar's plot, he supposed; but the dutiful and 
 submissive bearing of the young man towards his sire made a 
 deep impression on his flabby brain. Camr-ud-din had that 
 day cursed his father's religion, which was his own, and Abu 
 Khahi had been properly indignant. In return he had cursed 
 his son's creed, as also his father and his mother. He felt that 
 he was not blessed in his offspring, and in a dim, fat way he 
 envied Mustafa. 
 
XX 
 
 BETWEEN the cellar of Nur and the tavern of Abu 
 Khalil the summer days passed lazily for Said. The 
 year's last rain had fallen. Each departing night left a 
 burnished blue canopy over the city, on which the sun crept 
 slowly like a snail of fire. The cry of the water-carriers grew 
 sweet and ever sweeter in the ears of all men; and the street 
 dogs panted with lolling tongues as they slept. 
 
 Every evening drew forth a great multitude to the pleasure- 
 houses studding the gardens by the river bank. Men sat on 
 stools, or cross-legged on the ground, sipping sherbet of almond 
 or tamarind or rose, and chattered with the birds in the respite 
 from a sultry day ; while the sky glowed amethyst, then emerald, 
 then beryl, and the earth's bloom among the trees became a 
 paleness of lilies. 
 
 Once at sunset time Said went to the coffee-house of 
 Rashid, where he had slept that night with Sehm, to make 
 inquiries concerning his former partner. But the landlord 
 was gruff and slow to answer, so that Said abstained from 
 further questions and returned thither no more. 
 
 Every morning, about daybreak, the old beggar arose. 
 Having broken his fast upon the soured milk and bread pre- 
 pared for him by Nur, he took up his staff and set out for some 
 mosque or archway where was both shade and concourse — the 
 two main requisites for a beggar's seat. Said, rising perhaps 
 an hour later, had the livelong day idle upon his hands, after 
 he had brought water for his hostess and helped her to order 
 her dwelling. He stood high in the good graces of the grim 
 old woman : partly, no doubt, because of the little services he 
 was ever willing to render, but chiefly owing to the lover-like 
 attitude he adopted towards her. 
 
 He used her reverently yet fondly, as the desire of his soul. 
 It seemed a humorous thing for a free man to serve an old 
 
 122 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 123 
 
 woman of evil repute; and Said, having once grasped the 
 fantastic side of their relation, played his part thoroughly and 
 with all the fervour of a devotee. From constantly cajoling 
 her with flattery and impassioned words he himself came near 
 to forget that a hag's face underlay her mask of paint ; and she, 
 for her part, though alive to the cozenage, grew to dote on him 
 as the apple of her eye. 
 
 Sometimes, when the fragrant smoke of a narghileh made a 
 philosopher of him for half-an-hour, he contrasted the lot of 
 this old woman with that of Hasneh and other wives of poor 
 men. Here was one whose name had been a byword for 
 infamy living as a queen in her old age, extending bounty and 
 protection to whom she would, exacting service as her due. 
 The greatest of the city came under cover of the night to 
 beseech her aid in secret business of the heart. Grand ladies 
 of some notable's harlm, veiled from all peril of recognition, 
 sought her in their way from the bath or the perfumer's on a 
 like errand. Clandestine lovers made their heaven in her 
 upper room. Each and all, fearing, blessed her and left gold 
 in her hand. " Allah grant me as prosperous an old age ! " 
 thought Said. And yet Hasneh, the rough-handed and meanly 
 clad, would have deemed herself the better of such an one. It 
 was a strange thing ! 
 
 Another person who had conceived a warm liking for the 
 fisherman was the fat taverner. As the bright pattern of 
 filial devotion, Said was always welcome to meat and drink and 
 a narghileh afterwards in return for occasional help in the 
 service of the coffee-house. Abu Khalil loved to ply him with 
 parables and hard sayings, beginning always, "There was 
 once a son," and ending mostly in an attempt to cuff poor 
 Camr-ud-din, the "son" in question. This unfortunate youth 
 inherited his father's tendency to fall asleep at odd moments. 
 He would have become fat, too, like his father, had he been 
 allowed to remain long enough in one spot. It was his con- 
 stant chagrin that he could enjoy no rest, between waiting on 
 customers and obeying his sire's behests; for Abu Khalil, 
 though always dormant himself, would not let his son indulge 
 in a moment's lethargy. Camr-ud-dln carried his grievance 
 plainly written on his dirty brown face. He did everything 
 under protest ; and he loathed the sight of Said, who was for 
 ever being held up to him for an example. 
 
124 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Once or twice Said caught a glimpse of Selim among the 
 crowd in the streets, but on each occasion was able to dodge 
 aside and avoid him. He would have rejoiced to know him 
 happy and doing well, but was ashamed to meet him face to 
 face. For this reason he shunned the great bazaars and more 
 crowded ways in his walks abroad. 
 
 At least once in every day he was drawn to the house of 
 Yuhanna the Christian. Sometimes he went thither at evening, 
 when a deep earth shadow wrapped the city, and the western 
 nill was black against an orange glow ; more often in the early 
 morning, while the ways were yet shady. Hid in the angle of 
 the porch he could observe all that passed in the court within. 
 The very stones of the pavement had charm for him. His 
 beloved came and went, appeared and disappeared, now 
 crooning a love-song with her baby brother in her arms, now 
 mocking the coo of the pigeons, now romping with a maid- 
 servant. Whether she stood on tiptoe with head thrown back 
 and arms uplifted, her long tresses reaching almost to her 
 heels, to pull down the branch of a lemon-tree and see if a 
 certain fruit were yellowing ; whether she stamped her foot in 
 sudden anger at the clumsiness of a servant, or slapped the 
 child, who loved to bury his tiny hands in her hair and some- 
 times caused her pain — whatever she did was full of grace in 
 Said's eyes. He would con over her moods and postures 
 afterwards as he lay awake at night, tossing feverishly with a 
 fire at his heart. Crouching in the shadow of the entrance 
 he feasted his eyes on her beauty of form and motion, until 
 someone came to disturb him, when he stole back in the blue 
 shadow of narrow alleys, shunning instinctively the sunlight 
 and open places, with a singing in his ears. 
 
 At such times he went not to the tavern of Abu KhalU, but 
 straight to the cellar of Nur. The old woman listened kindly 
 to his ravings, and soothed him with hints of hope, bidding 
 him have but a little patience and he should be satisfied. The 
 girl's father, she said, was a wealthy merchant, a Nazarene, and 
 under protection. It would be unsafe to carry her off in a 
 time of quiet, for the Frankish consuls would be sure to clamour 
 for vengeance. Alas, in these days none but a true believer 
 could be wronged with impunity. But a change was at hand. 
 Wherever she went — in the palaces of the great as in aie cellars 
 of the poor — she heard murmurs of discontent. Men's for- 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 125 
 
 bearance was taxed to the utmost. A little more — a feather, 
 it must give way, and then Allah knew what would happen t 
 There would be riot — that at least was certain — and amid the 
 confusion of a whole city's rising one girl could be abducted 
 and no man know it. Said must therefore wait and trust in 
 Allah. 
 
 He drew some momentary comfort from this assurance, 
 but his desire grew with every day, threatening to consume 
 him. Old Mustafa rejoiced secretly at the haggard looks of 
 his young ally. He strove by all means to foster a longing 
 which promised to fall in timely with his scheme of revenge. 
 He spoke rapturously of the charms of Yuhanna's daughter 
 when they sat together among the gardens in the pale evening ; 
 and he would hug himself with glee when the fisherman leapt 
 up and cursed the day he was born, beseeching Allah to strike 
 him dead, for what was life to him without his darling ! 
 
 One morning, as Said lounged in the tavern of Abu Khalil, 
 a dehlibash entered, followed by an obsequious private. His 
 uniform was that of the irregular troops distributed for a safe- 
 guard among the country towns and villages. He cast a keen 
 glance round the coffee-house, passing over Camr-ud-din and 
 his father and two Christian lads drinking arak together in a 
 corner, until his eye rested on Said. 
 
 " Yonder is the man for us — what sayest thou, 'brarrim ? " 
 
 " A strong man ! — a fine man ! " agreed the soldier, bending 
 his right arm and feeling the muscle thereof to confirm his 
 meaning. 
 
 " Look here, O what is thy name ? " said the officer, 
 addressing Said; "if thou hast a mind to earn ten piastres, 
 rise up and follow me ! " 
 
 If he wished to earn ten piastres ! O day of blessing ! O 
 day of good luck ! Upon his head he would serve his Ex- 
 cellency. To hear was to obey. Might Allah preserve his 
 Honour's life for ever ! What might be his Grace's further 
 orders ? 
 
 The officer strode out of the tavern again, motioning him 
 to walk with the private soldier. In this order they traversed 
 the city. Passing out at an eastern gate they came to a wide- 
 open space where grass grew in ragged patches. Under some 
 big trees which bordered the parade ground was a motley 
 gathering of men and horses. The arrival of the dehlibash 
 
126 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 was hailed with loud blessings and cringing salaams. A steed 
 was apportioned to Said, while the officer counted his men. 
 
 " Praise to Allah, the tale is complete ! " he said with a 
 sigh of relief ; and then, looking at his watch, "It is lucky 
 that it is so, for it wants but a half of the appointed hour. 
 Here, *brahim, let this man wear thy paletot and give him a 
 gun ! At present he has nothing of the soldier about him. 
 At an ordinary time it does not matter ; but a friend whis- 
 pered me this morning that the Waly himself purposes to 
 review us ; and it is likely Abdul Cader will be with him. He 
 is a great general, by Allah, is Abdul Cader — his eyes are as 
 the eyes of an eagle. Well " — he shrugged his shoulders and 
 spread out his hands in deprecation — "if the Government can 
 only afford to pay seventy soldiers and I am obliged to main- 
 tain a hundred, is it my fault that they be not clothed like the 
 Sultan's body-guard ? " 
 
 Said donned the soldier's overcoat. The hood hanging 
 between his shoulders irked him like a burden, so that he 
 twisted his neck to see what was there, provoking shouts of 
 laughter. Then he swung the carbine across his back, just as 
 the order to mount was given. 
 
 The dehlibash marshalled his troop, two deep, in the 
 middle of the parade ground. Even thus, in the full glare of 
 the sun, with glint of gun-barrels and prancing of steeds, the 
 show was not a brave one. A few half-naked urchins, smitten 
 with awe at the sight, stood to watch, and idlers from the city 
 gathered to the spot. Presently there was a noise of shouting 
 and a pair of outriders cantered out at the gate, followed at an 
 interval of about a hundred yards by a group of horsemen in 
 civil dress surrounding the person of the Waly. 
 
 Ahmed Pasha wore the official frock coat and dark trousers, 
 his sober Frankish garb contrasting strangely with the gorgeous 
 trappings of his charger. His pale, intellectual face appeared 
 the whiter for the scarlet fez pressed low on the forehead. 
 Beside him, on the left hand, rode that great one whom Said 
 had seen in the court of the mosque, sitting with the Mufti 
 and Ismail Abbas. Two Franks, whose top-boots were very 
 prominent, rode on the Waly's right, and a servile official or 
 two completed the party. 
 
 " Who is he ? " Said inquired of a neighbour in the ranks. 
 
 " Who ? O stupid ! Ahmed Basha, of course ! * 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 127 
 
 " No, I speak not of the Waly ; but say, who is that great 
 one who rides at his left hand ? " 
 
 44 Whence comest thou? Who art thou who dwellest in 
 Es-Sham and dost not know Abdul Cader, the mighty chief of 
 Eljizar whom the French took and imprisoned and at length 
 banished hither ! Hist ! " 
 
 The troop saluted after a fashion, and the Waly began his 
 ride along the ranks, chiefly to ascertain that the right number 
 of men were there. He seemed mortified by the wretched 
 appearance of the troop. The two Franks smiled openly, 
 pointing out individual scarecrows one to the other. As luck 
 would have it, something in Said's bearing pleased Ahmed 
 Pasha. He reined in his horse before him and made a remark 
 over his shoulder to the Franks, who drew near with expectant 
 faces. 
 
 " Now, my man, thou that art a servant of justice in this 
 province, I put a case to thee : Suppose thou foundest a 
 Muslim and a Christian fighting together, what wouldst thou 
 do?" 
 
 Said reflected a moment. 
 
 " May it please your Excellency, I should take the Kafir 
 to prison." 
 
 The Waly bit his lip and rode on. The Franks tried in 
 vain to stifle their laughter. Even Abdul Cader smiled and 
 his eyes twinkled. 
 
 His round of inspection over, Ahmed Pasha addressed 
 some sharp words of admonition to the troops ; and refusing 
 to listen to the officer's excuses, rode back again into the city. 
 The crowd which had followed the governor dispersed after 
 him. The soldiers retired to the shade of the plane-trees and 
 there dismounted. Said and some fifty other faggots were 
 paid off; and, being deprived of their guns and such soldierly 
 garments as they had assumed for the nonce, sauntered away 
 as civilians. 
 
 In his road to the tavern of Abu KhalU, the fisherman saw 
 signs of unwonted excitement. The faces of the men he met 
 had a fierce and eager look. Once or twice a Nazarene passed 
 him, slinking along by the wall with the furtive side-glance of 
 a dog that one stones. Drivers of camels and mules who 
 seemed to come from the way of the mountains were beset by 
 an eager crowd begging for news ; while others coming off the 
 
128 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 desert passed unheeded save for the curses of those whom the 
 advance of their laden beasts threatened to crush against the 
 wall. Khans and coffee-houses were full to overflowing, and 
 the sound of many voices in agitation came from their shadowy 
 doorways. It was near noon — an hour when men are wont to 
 move lazily, and the very camels seem to slumber as they rock 
 heavily onward with jangling bells. But to-day all was anima- 
 tion. Even the street-dogs opened an eye, drew in their 
 tongues at intervals and stirred uneasily in their sleep. 
 
 Said accosted two men who were arguing and gesticulating 
 in the shade of a merchant's awning. 
 
 " What is the news ? " he asked. 
 
 " Great news, O my uncle — news of moment ! There is 
 war in the Mountain and it is sure that the Mowarni have 
 arisen and have destroyed twenty villages belonging to the 
 Druz. One that has but now arrived from Bey rut assured me 
 of it. He saw the flames like stars on all the seaward slopes 
 as he passed the ridge at sundown. It is sin, by Allah ! for 
 the Druz are our brothers in this matter." 
 
 " Nay, by Allah ! it is a lying report thou hast heard ! * 
 cried the other man, vehemently. " It is the Druz who have 
 risen up suddenly and have destroyed thirty villages of the 
 Mowarni. It is true, however, what thou sayest, that the 
 Druz are our brothers. May their power increase ! " 
 
 The merchant before whose shop they were squabbling 
 removed the ivory mouthpiece of a narghileh from his lips 
 and crossed his legs more comfortably. 
 
 " It is likely both of you are wrong," he said. " The event 
 occurred only yesterday, so the tidings are not yet confirmed. 
 This is but the first rumour which we hear. It is surely 
 greater than the truth." 
 
 Said hurried on his way with a full heart. Wild fancies, 
 that were half hope and half project, throbbed in his mind. 
 The time foretold of the lawyer was come ; the day to which 
 Mustafa looked for vengeance was at hand. A fire was kindled 
 on Lebanon, and a strong wind blew from the sea. The 
 smoke was driven over the great city, and there were sparks in 
 the smoke. Es-Sham was as a heap of tinder carefully pre- 
 pared. Through vague pictures of riot and bloodshed he saw 
 the daughter of Yuhanna as he had first seen her, fondling her 
 baby brother in a blue shadow which the intervening sunlight 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 129 
 
 dusted with gold. The vision was perfect even to the purple 
 flowers on the wall at her back and a pair of white butterflies 
 sporting above her head. The vividness of it pained Said, 
 causing heart and brain to ache. 
 
 The tavern of Abu Khalil was crowded and uproarious 
 when he reached it. Just within the threshold, forced outward 
 by the press, stood the host himself with back to the sunlight. 
 By his manner of standing he seemed anxious and ill at ease. 
 The expression of his face when he turned was the same which 
 Said had seen it wear when knives were drawn in the house or 
 a customer flew at another's throat. With a touch of the hand 
 and a whispered salutation the fisherman slipped past him and 
 edged his shoulder into the throng. Stools overturned were 
 being kicked about among the feet of the disputants. Clenched 
 hands were shaken fiercely in angry faces. Every man believed 
 himself to be possessed of the truth of the matter and resented 
 his neighbour's statement. 
 
 "Thirty villages !"— -" Twenty !"— " No, a hundred, I tell 
 thee !"— " The Druz, by the Coran !"— "The Christians for 
 certain ! n 
 
 In the thickest of the crush Said descried an emerald 
 mantle edged with fur. It shone out brightly amid the ruck 
 of soiled robes of every conceivable colour, blue predominat- 
 ing. An embroidered turban binding a newish fez was con- 
 spicuous in like manner. The young lawyer, who came thither 
 to converse with clients, was struggling to obtain a hearing. 
 
 " I who am a lawyer tell you that it behoves all men to 
 keep peace at this crisis ! " Said heard him cry. " Let the un- 
 believers extirpate each other — Durzi and Maruni. The 
 Franks are powerful and wish ill to Islam. They will cause 
 all who take part against the Christians to be put to death. 
 What profit has a man though he destroy his enemies if he 
 die for it ? The Waly has summoned the Council of Notables. 
 They will take strong measures to prevent a disturbance. Calm 
 your minds, I entreat you, all of you ! " 
 
 Derisive shouts drowned his prayers. The old beggar 
 sprang forward and gripped his shoulder. He swung the 
 lawyer round so that he could grin in his face. 
 
 "What is this, effendi?" he said with a mad laugh. "Does 
 a man change his mind with each moon ? A little while since, 
 when the chance of war seemed remote, thou wast a lion, ex- 
 
130 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 horting us to battle with brave words. But now, on the eve 
 of the tumult thy heart grows faint. In the beginning, when 
 there is but a spark, it is easy to fan it or blow it out, which- 
 ever one please ; but afterward, when it is become a great fire 
 all the breath of a man avails not to extinguish it. Courage, 
 O Excellency ! It is a creditable thing to be chief among 
 men. Be sure I will give thee all honour, and praise thee as 
 my leader in this business ! " 
 
 With an oath the lawyer tore himself away. His face was 
 livid as he pushed through the noisy crowd to the door. He 
 passed quite close to Said, so that the latter could hear him 
 mutter under his breath, — 
 
 " A madman — dangerous to the peace of the city — I go 
 straight to denounce him. With Allah's leave he shall be in 
 gaol ere sunset ! " 
 
 Said watched him shuffle away in the direction of the 
 Waly's house, keeping close to the castle wall, as though its 
 strength were a protection, the skirts of his emerald coat 
 bellying behind him. Then he elbowed his way to where 
 Mustafa was leaping and dancing like a maniac in the midst 
 of the press, screaming curses on the Christians to the joy of 
 all. 
 
 Said plucked his robe and whispered, but the old man 
 shook him off at first and raved more frantically than ever. 
 But by dint of repeating his warning in a louder tone, and 
 dragging him by main force towards the door, he at length 
 won him to hear reason. They went out together into the 
 blinding sunshine, Mustafa cursing all lawyers and their 
 kinsfolk. 
 
 On reaching the cellar where they lodged, "Allah is 
 gracious ! The time is come, O Nur ! " cried Mustafa, capering 
 and waving his skinny arms in a frenzy of glee. 
 
XXI 
 
 IN those days the taverns of the city were never empty 
 except at dead of night. Each sun brought fresh tidings 
 of a rousing nature; and the excitement of the vulgar is a 
 gossip who must chatter or die. It was soon known for 
 certain that the Maronites had been the aggressors in the first 
 place; but now the Druz were slaying them like sheep all 
 along the mountain. 
 
 " Of a surety, the Druz are our brothers ! " was the judg- 
 ment of every true believer. "It is not true, what is com- 
 monly told of them, that they worship a calf in secret places. 
 By the Coran they are no idolaters. They fall not prostrate 
 before pictures of women and sheep, as do the Nazarenes; 
 but worship Allah even as we do. May they utterly destroy 
 their enemies, who are ours also ! " 
 
 Men went about their work distractedly with brains on fire. 
 Unrest was everywhere. The sunlight itself, which baked the 
 roofs, quivered of anticipation. The crescent gleaming on 
 dome and minaret had a message for all the faithful. 
 
 Only in the Christian quarter fear reigned amid a death- 
 like hush. The few inhabitants who ventured beyond its 
 limits were hustled and spit upon. True believers cursed and 
 reviled them so that they grovelled in terror of their lives. 
 There was menace in the very air, so that they breathed it 
 with deprecation. 
 
 In the dewy shade of an early morning Said bent his steps 
 towards the house of Yubanna. Wrapt in thought of his be- 
 loved he walked as in a dream. The ways were cool, he was 
 conscious of a strip of radiance overhead, he saw men move 
 as shadows. At a joyful shout of his own name he started 
 as though one had struck him. 
 
 131 
 
132 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 " Is it indeed thou, Selim ? " he cried. " O day of joy ! 
 How goes thy business ? " 
 
 The memory of his former scurvy treatment of the mule- 
 teer made him a little backward in cordiality. But upon 
 Selim embracing him tenderly as a brother, with no more than 
 a playful reproach on the score of his desertion, he was truly 
 delighted to see him once again ; and they walked on, hand 
 in hand, so far as their roads lay together. Said had little to 
 relate. His life since their parting had been lazy and unevent- 
 ful. Of the all-absorbing topic of Yuhanna's daughter he cared 
 not to speak, being far from secure of his friend's approval. 
 But Selim, on the other hand, had much to tell. Alone, 
 he had carried on the old business for a few days, in the hope 
 of Said's return ; but things had not thriven with him. The 
 voice of the master was gone, and he might shout till he 
 was hoarse in praise of the wares, yet few paused to examine 
 them. So he sold the remnant of his stock to a dealer for 
 what it would fetch, and journeyed to the mountain-village 
 where was his home, to dandle his baby and take counsel 
 with his woman. On his return to the city he applied for 
 help to Ismail Abbas, the Sherif— Said remembered? — who 
 received him very kindly and gave him a letter — guess to 
 whom ! to Ahmed Pasha, to his Highness, the Waly him- 
 self! In short, he was now a member of the Governor's 
 household, receiving bakshish from all desirous to curry favour 
 in his master's neighbourhood. 
 
 He was in the way of honour, and (under Allah) he 
 thanked Said for it. Had it not been for that rich garment 
 Said gave him he would never have caught the eye of the 
 great Ismail Abbas in the first instance. Moreover, he 
 praised his friend's generosity and self-denial in that he had 
 not taken his share of the slender profits of their partnership 
 away with him. It was a magnanimous action, but then Said 
 was ever the father of kindness. He had grieved much for 
 the loss of his brother, and had even been to the cellar of 
 Nur seeking news of him. But the mistress of the house — a 
 tall old woman with painted eyes — had been short with him 
 and he could learn nothing from her. 
 
 Said's heart smote him as he listened. Allah had blessed 
 him with the truest friend ever man had, and he had slighted 
 the gift. He squeezed Seam's hand and swung it lightly to 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 133 
 
 and fro as they walked. Might Allah destroy him utterly and 
 quench the fire on his hearth if ever again he gave this good 
 man cause to reproach him. 
 
 " I rejoice in thy happiness," he said when the time came 
 for them to part. " And what is the mind of his Excellency 
 the Basha with respect to the war of the Mountain ? Wait a 
 little and there shall be war in Es-Sham on the pattern of it." 
 
 " Alas, O Said, they say in the palace of my lord that should 
 :he men of Es-Sham follow the example of the Druz, then the 
 downfall of Islam is sure, for the Franks will avenge the 
 Nazarenes, that is known. The Waly himself is very anxious : 
 it is said that he weeps at night in his chamber. He is a great 
 general of renown, but he loves study better than govern- 
 ment. One of the soldiers of the guard, who has served 
 under him in the wars of Europe, tells me that he was ever a 
 great general — none greater — upon paper : victory waited on 
 his science ; but he loved not the turmoil of a battle and its 
 perils. 
 
 " His mind is now torn asunder by the demands of the 
 Franks wishing one thing, and the advice of the elders of 
 Islam, who desire the opposite. In truth, it seems to me who 
 am a small man and no politician, that he hearkens too 
 willingly to the speeches of the Franks, the sworn enemies of 
 the Faith. It was no wise thing that he did yesterday in 
 ordering the dog Jurji, who did outrage on the harim of Asad 
 Effendi, to be released without punishment. The Franks 
 speak as lawyers on behalf of their clients, and they strengthen 
 their pleading by threats. This pardon of an evil-doer, simply 
 because he is a Nazarene, will madden the faithful. As I 
 came just now through the long bazaar, a band of youths 
 armed with sticks passed me, running towards the Christian 
 quarter, vowing they would do justice on Jurji with their own 
 hands. I fear the Waly has been ill-advised in this matter. 
 He is a great man and a politic, but he is weak, and the 
 Franks overbear him. I fear there will be trouble. Thanks 
 be to Allah that Selim is not the great Waly of Damashc-ush- 
 Sham, but only a small servant whose duty is plain. May 
 Allah guard thee in safety till we meet again ! " 
 
 They parted. Selim was quickly lost in the shifting crowd 
 of a roofed bazaar, while Said, striking into a quiet alley, 
 pursued his way to the house of Yuhanna. The news of the 
 
134 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 release of Jurji rankled in his mind, making him venomous 
 towards the Christians. 
 
 As he passed the threshold of the outer door, seeking that 
 orner of the entrance passage whence he was used to spy on 
 his delight, he stumbled on a pitcher someone had left there. 
 The earthen vessel crashed upon the stones and was 
 shattered to bits. The noise was enough to bring the whole 
 household running to the spot. Bitterly cursing the accident, 
 Said took to his heels. A little way up the lane he hid him- 
 self in the angle of two walls. 
 
 Presently, as he stood there waiting till the alarm of the 
 broken pot should have had time to subside, he heard loud 
 voices approaching. A rabble of Muslim lads burst into the 
 narrow way, cursing all the Nazarenes, and yelling that they 
 were come to do justice on Jurji the evil-doer and destroy 
 his father's house with fire. Most of them carried sticks ; 
 some had long knives in their hands. Seeing a man look out 
 from the door of Yuhanna's house they chalked the sign of 
 the cross ostentatiously on the pavement, spat upon it, and 
 trampled it underfoot. The head was quickly withdrawn and 
 the door shut and bolted from within. 
 
 This seemed rare sport to Said. Lifting up his voice 
 against the Christians, he joined himself to the mob. 
 
 They paraded the entire quarter, reviling all they met. 
 Here and there a man cried shame upon them, but the most 
 part slunk past them along the wall with a cringing salutation. 
 At length, growing weary of their unchallenged progress, they 
 were about to disperse, when a happy thought occurred to 
 Said. He imparted it to his comrades, who were loud in 
 acclamation. Such as had knives set to work to cut short 
 lengths of stick, which they bound two and two together so 
 as to form rough crosses. Then they took hold of the street- 
 dogs, which lay around them by dozens, tied a cross under the 
 tail of each, and with a kick sent them howling in all directions. 
 
 The fun was at its height when a man dressed in the 
 Frankish fashion, but swarthy and wearing a fez, emerged 
 from a doorway close by in earnest conversation with a 
 Muslim in a fur-edged mantle of emerald green. He of the 
 foreign garb cast one searching glance at the crowd, and then, 
 seeing its occupation, walked off hurriedly, dragging the 
 lawyer along with him. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 135 
 
 "Din Muhammed!" Said yelled after them in derision. 
 "Behold we follow thy advice, effendi ! " 
 
 " Din Muhammed — Allah ! Allah ! Perish the un- 
 believers ! " shouted a few of his companions ; but the greater 
 part were silent, seeming afraid. 
 
 " It is the dragoman of the Muscovite consul," one mur- 
 mured with consternation. " He knows me well, whose son I 
 am. He will surely lodge information against us and we shall 
 be imprisoned for this day's work." 
 
 " Let us after and slay him ! " cried another, valorous from 
 a whole morning spent in insulting men with impunity. 
 
 " Let us go quietly each to his own place ! " pleaded a third, 
 who had cause for alarm, being well-known to the dragoman. 
 
 His advice seemed best to all, and they disbanded forth- 
 with. Said went to the coffee-house of Abu Khalil, where he 
 smoked a narghileh. The tale of his morning's pastime made 
 the fat taverner quake with inward laughter. Camr-ud-d\n and 
 his mother stopped work to listen ; the customers applauded it 
 as a merry jest. He was obliged to repeat it from the beginning 
 for every newcomer. At midday he made a hearty meal of 
 lentils and bread, drank a cup of coffee, and disposed himself 
 for a nap. 
 
 About the second hour after noon he was roused by a 
 strong hand on his shoulder shaking him. To the first blurred 
 glance of his sleepy eyes the whole tavern seemed full of 
 soldiers ; but when he sat up he found there were but four of 
 them. 
 
 "A scar on his forehead," one was saying, as if he read 
 over a description in writing, " the beard black, tall and robust, 
 the son of perhaps twenty-three years, his raiment striped of 
 blue and yellow, soiled. This is the man, by Allah ! . . . 
 Arise, O my uncle, and come along with us ! " 
 
 "What means this? What evil have I done?" Said 
 rubbed his eyes and stared aghast. 
 
 " Who said thou hadst done any wrong ? Not I, by Allah ! 
 To my mind thou didst well to spit upon the infidels ; would 
 to Allah thou hadst slain a few of them ! But it is the Waly's 
 order that thou go to prison. Make haste, O lazy one ! " 
 
 Said was dimly aware of Abu Khalil quaking and wringing 
 his hands somewhere between him and the sunlight, of the 
 voices of Camr-ud-d\n and his mother mingled in curses upon 
 
136 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 the soldiers and their ancestry. Then he was led out into the 
 white glare of the street, where a small crowd of idlers and 
 ne'er-do-weels gaped upon him, and ran along with his captors 
 as an additional escort. 
 
 It was clear that the guards had orders to avoid all crowded 
 thoroughfares, for they hurried him through dark tunnels and 
 passages and along mean alleys of an evil savour. But with 
 all these precautions they were obliged to cross the open space 
 before a large khan at an hour when traffic was at its height ; 
 and such a group was sure to attract notice, even without the 
 little crowd which followed it implicitly as the tail the dog. 
 The person of the prisoner was much scrutinised, and questions 
 were put to the soldiers, who answered with an "Allah knows !" 
 and a surly shrug. All at once a well-known plaint struck 
 Said's ear. 
 
 "Allah will give to you ! . . . For the love of Allah, take 
 pity or I die ! . . . O Lord ! . . . Allah will give to 
 you ! . . * 
 
 He started, and then howled "Mustafa!" with all the 
 strength of his lungs. 
 
 " Hold thy peace, O fool, lest I strike thee on the mouth ! " 
 hissed the chief of his escort fiercely. 
 
 But the old beggar had heard his cry. The crowd parted 
 suddenly, giving way to a wild, lean figure a flutter with rags. 
 Mustafa raised hands and eyes to Heaven for horror of what 
 he saw. 
 
 " What is this ? " he shrieked. " Allah cut short their lives ! 
 They have taken my son — the staff of my days ! — the light of 
 my eyes ! . . . These sons of iniquity have robbed me of my 
 son ! . . . O Allah ! . . . O Lord ! . . . O men of Es- 
 Sham — O fathers of kindness, will you suffer this great wrong 
 to be done in your sight ? By the Prophet, there is no sin in 
 him ! . . . O Lord ! . . . He has ever been a good son and 
 a pious. Say, O Said, for what cause have they taken thee and 
 bound thy hands ? Let all men judge of thy innocence ! w 
 
 " For the cause that I cursed the heathen ! " shouted Said, 
 at the cost of a smart blow on the mouth, which made his 
 gums bleed. 
 
 "O Lord !" screamed the old beggar, dancing and rending 
 his clothes as one gone mad with grief. "See, they strike 
 him ! There is blood on his lips ! . . . They side with un- 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 137 
 
 believers ! . . . They buffet the champion of Islam and lead 
 him to prison ! . . . men of Es-Sham, faithful people, 
 you have heard his crime from his own mouth ! . . . O 
 Lord ! . . . Rescue him ! — rescue my son ! — my only son ! — 
 the staff of my life ! " 
 
 The soldiers and their charge were at a standstill, a crowd 
 pressing upon them from every side. There was a sound of 
 muttered curses on all hands, and the shrieks of the old maniac 
 seemed ominous to the guardians of law and order. 
 
 "Bah ! it is nothing," shouted the chief of the party so as 
 to be heard afar. " He will be rebuked and lie idle in gaol for 
 a few hours. ... By Allah, we are no infidels but true men. 
 That old rogue there lies when he says that we side with the 
 Nazarenes. Allah be my witness, it is a lie ! But the Waly's 
 order is upon us, which to hear is to obey, and those who dare 
 to resist us do so at the risk of heavy punishment. . . . Oah ! 
 Oah ! In the name of the Sultan, make way, I say ! " 
 
 By soft speaking, mingled deftly with threats, he managed 
 to force a path through the press. In the quiet alley into 
 which they plunged directly he cursed Said for a madman and 
 threatened him with every kind of torment as the guerdon of 
 his misbehaviour. There was peace again, and the soldiers 
 were able to breathe freely. They waxed courageous and 
 blustered as Said became sullen and crestfallen. But the old 
 beggar had joined the faithful few who clung to them through 
 all vicissitudes of the road ; and he ceased not to revile and 
 execrate them, imploring Allah to strike them all dead and so 
 release his son, until he had watched Said disappear within the 
 gate of the prison. Then he sped fleet-foot to the vault of Nur, 
 to take counsel what was next to be done. 
 
XXII 
 
 SAID'S first impression of the gaol would have been a 
 pleasant one but for the dejected looks of its inmates 
 and the foul stench pervading its atmosphere. His captors 
 left him unshackled in an open quadrangle. An arcade sup- 
 porting a flat roof made a sort of verandah on two sides of it, 
 affording shelter to the prisoners from the glare of noon. The 
 remainder was shut in by a high wall, in which was the 
 entrance gate, strongly barred and further secured by a small 
 guard of soldiers hardly less wretched in appearance than the 
 criminals themselves. On one hand the rays of the sinking 
 sun were warm upon wall and pavement ; on the other, a deep 
 blue shadow stretched out from the arcade before mentioned 
 almost to the middle of the court. 
 
 Said stood for some time where his escort had left him, just 
 within the gate. His eyes strayed over the various groups 
 lying or squatting in the shade or striding wearily up and down 
 in the red glow that dyed the eastern wall. Most of them 
 were ragged ; all were dirty, with the exception of three young 
 men, who sat aloof together, cross-legged, on the edge of the 
 sunlight. The gaiety of this little party, talking and laughing 
 bravely in the face of misfortune, attracted Said even before 
 he knew them for his associates in transgression. His approach 
 was hailed with shouts of welcome, and he was made to sit 
 down with them. 
 
 They affected to treat their imprisonment as a jest. It was 
 not likely, Said agreed, that men would be greatly punished for 
 so slight a misdemeanour. The Waly was a Muslim, and all 
 believers must surely feel with them. Their arrest was only a 
 sop to the Franks. That dragoman — curse his religion! — 
 had complained to the Muscovite consul, his master ; and the 
 consul had gone in a rage to Ahmed Pasha, who was ever 
 ready to humour a Frank in small matters. The consul's word 
 
 138 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 139 
 
 was law : the ringleaders were put in prison. On the morrow 
 they would be brought before a council of true believers, gently 
 reprimanded and set at liberty. 
 
 Thanks to these assurances, and a good supper which a 
 soldier gladly brought in for them from a neighbouring tavern, 
 Said slept well enough that night, though on the bare stones. 
 He had no money to procure bedding such as his friends 
 obtained from the gaolers for a trifle of bakshish. But having 
 supped well at their expense, and being used to rough couches, 
 he scarcely envied them the luxury. He awoke in gladness to 
 the prospect of a speedy release. But the day wore on, and 
 the little company sat ever in the shadow of the arcade, gazing 
 at the gate until their eyes ached. They murmured and grew 
 despondent ; darkness returned and they were still in durance. 
 Said slept ill that night ; his companions moaned and stirred 
 uneasily in their sleep. They were forgotten, or the Franks 
 had poisoned the Waly's mind against them. In either case 
 they had small cause to rejoice. 
 
 About sunrise, Said was awakened by the clank of an iron 
 chain. A peevish voice bade him arise and that quickly. He 
 scrambled to his feet and looked for his companions. They 
 were standing a little way off, under a strong guard of soldiers. 
 Their limbs were fettered, and they were linked together by a 
 heavy chain. He read blank dismay in their faces. 
 
 "What is this? What have we done to deserve such 
 usage?" he asked indignantly, as two men, detached for that 
 purpose, fitted irons to his wrists and ankles. There was no 
 answer; the men seemed morose yet handled him gently. 
 Upon his repeating the question in a louder tone the officer in 
 command, who appeared in a towering rage, turned on him 
 fiercely. 
 
 " Thou mayst well ask what is this ! I myself know not 
 the meaning of it ! Perhaps the Waly is possessed with a 
 devil — Allah knows ! To hear is to obey ; but to carry out 
 such an order is a shame for one who is a Muslim. May all 
 the Franks perish utterly ! . . . Know that the dragoman of 
 the Muscovite consul — a Christian and the son of an Arab, 
 may his house be destroyed ! — was closeted with his Excellency 
 yesterday afternoon. And a little later I received the order 
 for your punishment ; that you are to sweep the streets of the 
 Christian quarter in chains. Allah witness, I count it a sin 
 
140 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 and dishonour to the faith. Notwithstanding, to hear is to 
 obey ! " 
 
 He turned aside with a shrug to give a word of command 
 to one of his men. Four common brooms were brought 
 and distributed one to each of the convicts. Said was 
 coupled on to the chain with the others, and thus bound 
 together they were marched out at the gate, while every 
 prisoner that was a Muslim ground his teeth and howled with 
 rage at the indignity. The ragged privates who kept the door 
 murmured together with lowering brows. 
 
 " Jurji, the Nazarene, that was a malefactor, was set free 
 without punishment," Said heard one of them growl ; " while 
 these believers, who have done nothing to be called a crime, 
 are condemned to dishonour the faith. In truth, the end of 
 all things is at hand ! " 
 
 Their road lay past the gateway of the great mosque. The 
 sight of the white minaret with its crescent glittering upon the 
 blue brought scalding tears to men's eyes for the honour of 
 Islam which was dead. The cooing of the doves had a new 
 and mournful note in it. The prisoners walked listless with 
 downcast faces ; the soldiers closed in to screen them, as far 
 as might be, from the stare of the populace. But the guard 
 themselves were sullen and dejected ; the work in hand being 
 a heavy burden on their minds. Suddenly a piercing cry 
 broke upon the hush in which they moved. 
 
 " O Lord ! . . . I behold my son — my only son — the staff 
 of my age — whom the children of sin took from me ! The 
 slaves of iniquity have loaded him with chains — Allah, cut 
 short their lives ! . . . By the Coran, he is no evildoer, but 
 a pious man and a faithful — who did but curse some Nazarenes 
 and spit in their faces. It is for that they have fettered and 
 bound him ! . . . O Lord ! . . . Shall these things be done 
 under the sun and in the sight of all men ? Merciful Allah ! " 
 
 The soldiers quickened step, but the voice went along 
 with them, as it were a knife stabbing their hearts, which were 
 sore enough already. Why did not the sun veil his face and 
 spread a darkness over all the city that the shame of Islam 
 might be hid ? Oh, that Allah would cause the earth to yawn 
 and swallow up the infidels, as he did for Neby Musa of old ; 
 that all the world might know that God was still watching over 
 his faithful as in the time of Nun and Ibrahim and Ismail, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 141 
 
 as in the days of Daud and of Isa, and of Muhammed (peace 
 to him ! ), his apostle. O day of woe ! O cursed day of 
 infamy ! 
 
 That was a proud morning for the Christians. They 
 swarmed in the streets of their quarter with exultant faces. 
 The day of their deliverance was come at last. The con- 
 querors were become the slaves of the conquered, to sweep 
 their streets for them. They gloated on the sight with the 
 coward's triumph, who, seeing his foe laid low by a stronger 
 than himself, spits valiantly in his face and cries, " Mine is 
 the victory ! " Secure of protection, they took pleasure in 
 taunting the prisoners, cursing them for sons of dogs and 
 mocking them with proffers of water when they seemed weary. 
 The pent-up venom of centuries was on their tongues. The 
 poor earthworm hissed like a snake. 
 
 A number of the faithful had nocked into the quarter, 
 drawn chiefly by the frantic outcry of the old beggar. They 
 failed at first to grasp the position. The valorous attitude of 
 the Christians only shocked and bewildered them. But no 
 sooner did they learn what work was doing than their eyes 
 grew fierce with the old pride of Islam — the battle-pride of 
 their forbears, who had carried the white crescent on the green 
 flag victorious from India to the Atlantic. There were scuffles, 
 and Christians were hurled to the ground. The press grew 
 menacing about the sweepers and their guard. The soldiers 
 looked anxious. The prisoners were ordered to cease work, 
 and the officer, foreseeing a riot, was minded to take them 
 back to prison on his own responsibility. The courage of the 
 Nazarenes began to waver. The older and wiser of them 
 slipped quietly into the nearest houses. But the younger and 
 more turbulent, loth to forego one tittle of the unwonted 
 pleasure of retaliation, remained in the street, hurling insults 
 at the religion of Muhammed, and all professing it. Even 
 thus they outnumbered the believers, who, however, were 
 constantly on the increase as the rumour of a tumult spread 
 through the city. In vain did the captain attempt to draw 
 off his men, for they were locked in the heart of a seething, 
 yelling crowd. It was all they could do to hold their ground. 
 All at once the voice of the old beggar was raised in triumph, — 
 
 " To the rescue !— Dm ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " 
 
 There was a rush of turbaned men, a sharp struggle ; the 
 
142 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 soldiers were torn away like trees by a winter torrent, and a 
 hundred hands were eager to free the prisoners from their 
 fetters. Files, knives, iron bars — every kind of tool and 
 weapon was thrust forward to serve in the work of release. 
 Rescuers and rescued were rocked too and fro in the battle 
 raging around them. For once the Christians fought like 
 wild beasts. Here a turbaned head was seen to fall, there a 
 fez. Death shrieks mingled with the howls and shouts of the 
 fighters. The uproar was frightful. For a while the issue of 
 the fray seemed doubtful ; but soon the Christians began to 
 give way. The war-cry of Islam gathered volume, until it 
 seemed to roll along the sky in waves of sound. 
 
 " To the house of Yuhanna ! " cried the old beggar, 
 dragging Said's arm. " Din Muhammed ! to the house of 
 'hanna, the pig who protects Jurji, the evildoer ! . . . Y* Allah ! 
 . . . Death to the heathen ! " 
 
 Said, freed of his chains, forced his way earnestly through 
 the crowd. Mustafa dogged him, screaming, laughing, and 
 yelling like one possessed, keeping tight hold of his raiment so 
 as not to lose him. A number of the faithful, fired by the 
 hated name of Jurji, followed frantic as they. 
 
XXIII 
 
 THE house of Yuhanna was at some distance from the 
 scene of riot. Its outer door stood open as on other 
 days, and at the moment when Said burst into its pretty court, 
 the girl Ferideh was seated on a cushion in the shade of the 
 lemon trees, her little brother in her lap. Suddenly, as if the 
 stillness had beeir some brittle thing, it shivered to a great 
 roar. There was t, whirr and a flutter as the pigeons rose in 
 a cloud from their researches on the pavement. 
 
 Snatching up the child, she sprang to her feet. The 
 menace of the wild inhuman faces appalled her. She fled 
 towards the door of the house in terror at that inroad of mad- 
 men as she deemed them. But the old beggar, outrunning 
 Said, caught her by the arm and shook her brutally. 
 
 "Say, girl, is the pig, thy father, in the house?" 
 
 Ferideh winced for the tightness of his grasp. Outraged 
 pride and a certain fearful wonder were blended in her 
 answer. 
 
 "Be not so rough, I pray! . . . Know that my father 
 receives no man to-day, for he lies upon his bed, having fever. 
 To-morrow he will perhaps be well, and, when well, he is 
 accessible to all who seek him." 
 
 Mustafa laughed aloud and pushed her so that she 
 staggered backward a few paces. 
 
 " He receives no man, sayest thou ? By the tomb of the 
 Prophet, he will receive us! Aha, O 'hanna, thou old rat, 
 thou devourer of women, the avenger of blood overtakes thee 
 at last I n He drew a long knife from his girdle and flashed 
 it in the face of the girl. 
 
 "Din Muhammed!" he cried. "Death to the infidels! 
 Y'Allah ! " and rushed into the house, hurling to the ground 
 an old woman, almost blind, who had come to the door 
 
 143 
 
144 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 seeking querulously to know the meaning of the uproar. The 
 crowd raised a loud shout and pressed after him. 
 
 " O holy Miriam ! O Yesua, Redeemer of the world, 
 save him, save my father ! " shrieked the maiden, falling on 
 her knees, appealing to the sky above, whose bright peace 
 mocked her anguish. The mob, bent on plunder, only laughed 
 at her and praised her looks in passing. She grew white and 
 red by turns, and her lips moved with difficulty as she prayed. 
 
 The scared pigeons circled overhead, whirling great flakes 
 of shadow over wall and pavement. Their cooing and tjie 
 tinkle of the rill from the basin, heard despite the tumult, 
 were heartrending as memories. The still foliage of the lemon 
 trees cast a dark pool of shadow on the flags. The leaves of 
 a creeper on the wall trembled a little. 
 
 Said made no attempt to enter the house. He had no 
 thirst for blood, no desire for gain. The screams and yells 
 that arose within only confused his brain. He drew near to 
 the kneeling girl, and she did not see him ; but the child saw 
 him and clung closer, burying its face in her bosom. He 
 felt bashful — at a loss how to proceed. The court was deserted 
 now ; he thought he would have felt bolder in the presence 
 of a crowd. The shouting and the noise, though friendly, 
 numbed his wits. Forgetful for a moment of what was going 
 on within the house, he began to make playful overtures to 
 her baby brother. 
 
 Through an open lattice a frightful shriek rent the air, 
 deadening all other sounds. Another, and then another . . . 
 The girl leapt to her feet and listened, hugging the little one so 
 tight that it cried fretfully. 
 
 " O just Allah ! they are killing my father ! " she cried, 
 and was rushing blindly towards the open door when Said 
 caught her in his arms. 
 
 " Unhand me, loose me, wild beast ! Let me go to my 
 father. Dost hear his cry ? They kill him — an old man and 
 sick, lying on his bed with none to help him." 
 
 She fought him frantically for a moment with teeth and 
 feet, always holding the child fast to her breast. Then, as if all 
 her strength were spent, she gave one bitter cry and was still. 
 
 Holding her thus in his arms, Said felt uplifted beyond all 
 care of life or death. What matter though a hundred old 
 men were butchered if only he could manage to convey her 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 145 
 
 away from that place to the upper chamber of Nur, the 
 harlot. 
 
 " I suffer with thee, O my beloved ! " he murmured sooth- 
 ingly. " But thy father was old ; the days that remained to 
 him were few in number. Also the people are mad this day 
 against every Nazarene. . . . Listen, pretty one ! If they 
 find thee here they will surely slay thee, and this child also. 
 Now I have so great love for thee that I would not let a hair 
 of thy head be harmed. By Allah, I would slay the man 
 who dared to touch thee with a finger ! Come with me, O my 
 soul, and I will lead thee to a place of safety." 
 
 She gave no answer nor any sign that she heard, but 
 weighed heavily upon him. Looking down, he realised that 
 she had swooned. 
 
 The little boy, escaped from her embrace, was trotting 
 eagerly towards the door of the house, through which rich 
 carpets and other furniture of price were being flung out pell- 
 mell. Said, who was fond of children, called to him that there 
 were devils in there, and bade him fly to some neighbour's 
 house. Whereupon the little fellow toddled for the street in 
 terror of his life. 
 
 He had raised the fainting girl in his arms and was 
 bearing her swiftly towards the outer gate, when Mustafa 
 overtook him. 
 
 M Aha, thou performest thy part ? It is good — very good ! 
 Now listen ! — I slew him. See, his blood is still warm on 
 my left hand. ... I was the first to plunge a knife into 
 him ; but, before I smote, I made him teach me the place 
 where his treasure lies hid. At my bidding the multitude 
 held their hands and stood back, knowing that I had private 
 cause to hate him. He told me readily, in a whisper, think- 
 ing to save his life. But I slew him — with this knife I slew 
 him. It is a good knife — a sharp knife. By Allah, I love 
 this knife as my brother from this day forth. Ha, ha ! " 
 
 He sank his voice. 
 
 " I go now to secure the money. There is a fountain — 
 thou knowest it? — out yonder among the gardens, built on 
 the pattern of a little mosque. In the pavement of its recess 
 is a loose stone covering a hole where I am used to bury 
 trifles. There I will conceal the wealth, and afterwards I will 
 seek thee at the house of Nur. Make haste, O my son ! . . . 
 K 
 
146 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Look, there is smoke : they set fire to the house ! . . . 
 The girl is pretty, and some of them might quarrel with thee 
 for her sake. My peace go with thee ! " 
 
 Said strode out into the street with his burden and 
 plunged into the network of dark passages and byways he had 
 threaded so often for desire of her. He had not gone far 
 before she began to give signs of a return to consciousness. 
 He paused awhile in a secluded place to give her time to 
 recover. Presently, to his great relief, she was able to stand 
 on her feet, though still dazed and needing .support for 
 every step. She asked not whither they went, nor seemed to 
 care. Indeed, she evinced no mind or will of her own, but 
 moved wherever he led her, without reluctance as without 
 eagerness. Her beauty, and the strange sight of a Muslim 
 shepherding a Christian maid, caused the men they met to 
 stare at them ; so that Said, having no wish to court notice, 
 bade her draw the fall of her white hood across her face, 
 as the Druz women used to do. She obeyed by a vague 
 movement which told that her mind wandered. 
 
 Nur was cooking her noon-day meal on the brazier when 
 they entered. She welcomed Said with delight and cast a 
 searching glance at his charge. Then, as he began to explain, 
 she checked him with an impatient gesture and a nod of 
 intelligence. She understood perfectly. He had been sent 
 to sweep the streets of the infidels. Oh, the sin of it ! She 
 had heard the news from the son of Abu Khalil when he 
 brought some figs she had asked of his father. The whole 
 city was ashamed. There had been a riot — not so ? — 
 and he had been rescued. And then Mustafa — the old 
 madman ! — had led the mob to the house of 'hanna, his 
 enemy. And this then was Said's beloved? 
 
 She thrust her painted face close to that pale one and 
 scanned the features narrowly. Then she passed her hands 
 down the loose robe, feeling the limbs beneath. 
 
 "She is sweet — a pearl! — a darling!" she exclaimed. 
 " By Allah, thou art in luck's way, O my soul ! Art happy 
 at last ? . . . She neither sees nor hears us. Poor love ! she 
 is distraught with grief. It happens timely that the upper 
 chamber is ready. I prepared it for the pleasure of a certain 
 effendi, but his girl is a Nazarene and, in these troublous 
 times, will not dare come hither. I will tend her there, the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 147 
 
 priceless gem ! And thou must not come nigh her until the 
 evening. Dost hear, O Said? She must sleep and take 
 refreshment, and Nur will tend her. Wait until the evening, 
 I say; and then, when she is a little rested, I will present 
 thee as her deliverer." 
 
 With that she put an arm round Ferideh's waist and 
 supported her very tenderly up the flight of steps to the guest- 
 chamber. And Said sat on his heels, rolling cigarette after 
 cigarette, drinking glass after glass of rose sherbet, too per- 
 turbed to eat though Nur pressed him to share her repast. 
 And Nur, for her part, took a malicious joy in his distress, 
 looking forth from time to time from the door of the upper 
 room to wag her head at him and whisper, trumpeting with 
 her hand, — 
 
 " She is sweet, I tell thee ! — white as milk ! — a darling ! I 
 that am a woman cannot choose but kiss her ! " 
 
XXIV 
 
 THE first lilac gloom of night had fallen on the city ere 
 the old beggar regained the vault of Nur. A feeble 
 glow from the brazier showed his wrinkled face ghastly pale 
 and distorted with nervous twitchings. Madness burned in his 
 eyes. His fingers clenched and unclenched spasmodically; 
 his staff fell from them with a thud upon the earthen 
 floor. 
 
 " O Nur , hear me ! Where art thou ? n he cried, peering 
 about in the darkness. " I have slain him, I tell thee — I have 
 slain the pig 'hanna — the enemy of my house . . ." 
 
 " Hist ! — Hold thy peace ! " The door of the upper 
 chamber was opened and shut. There was the rustle of a 
 dress and clank of trinkets as the old woman came down the 
 steps. "She is up there — his daughter, dost understand? 
 Said has been with her, but against my advice he was violent 
 and frightened her. She fought like a tigress and screamed 
 so that I had to interfere. By my head, it is lucky that my 
 house is a place apart, walled off and secluded, else all the 
 quarter must have come together, seeking the cause of her out- 
 cry. For long I have been trying to soothe her; now at 
 length she is silent and I am glad of it. As for Said, she has 
 scratched and bitten him finely. A little while since he went 
 out to gather tidings ; he will return presently. Now sit down; 
 O my uncle, and I will warm up thy supper, which was ready 
 long ago." 
 
 But Mustafa gave no heed to what she said. Except that 
 he lowered his voice somewhat it seemed that he heard 
 nothing of it. Clutching her arm, he launched into a sort of 
 chant of praise and thanksgiving. 
 
 " Allah is bountiful ! . . . I slew him, I tell thee ! He 
 lay on his bed shamming sickness ; and I held the rage of the 
 
 148 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 149 
 
 faithful in check till he had whispered me the secret of his 
 treasure. He thought to preserve his life thereby, deeming 
 we were come to rob him. But I spoke the word, I called on 
 the name of Allah ! I shouted in his ear the name of the girl, 
 my sister, whom he ruined. A hundred knives struck down at 
 him as he lay ; but mine was foremost and it cut his life. . . . 
 Praise to Allah ! 
 
 " Ha, ha ! He was fat and lay on a soft bed, whereas I am 
 lean and used to sleep on the earth. Yet I slew him ! . . . 
 See the stains on my left hand — O hand of honour, O blessed 
 hand ! . . . The fat who dwell in palaces must reckon with 
 the lean beggar at their gates. I would, O Nur, thou hadst 
 seen him in the death-throe. He looked so funny that all 
 men laughed. Ha, ha, ha ! . . . Thanks be to Allah ! The 
 reproach is taken away from my father's house. Allah is 
 gracious ! " 
 
 "Thou art overwrought, O father of Mansur," she said 
 soothingly. "Sit down and rest. See, thy supper is 
 ready ! . . . By Allah, thou art very old for this work, and I 
 fear lest it prove harmful to thy health. Sit down, dost hear 
 me ? After a little while Said will return and we shall learn 
 what news there is. In the meantime I will make some 
 coffee for thee." 
 
 The old beggar allowed himself to be persuaded. He 
 sank down cross-legged by the threshold of the inner 
 room, while she, having made fast the door, shook an 
 earthen lamp to be sure it had oil enough, lit and set it in a 
 hollow nook of the wall opposite to him. By its light she 
 observed him furtively as she busied herself about the 
 brazier, and she shook her head bodingly from time to time. 
 A torn strip of his filthy turban dangled over one ear. His 
 scanty robe, all ragged, displayed the thick growth of grizzled 
 hair upon his chest. His bare limbs were shrivelled and 
 sinewy, of the colour of a sun-dried apricot, the legs dusty 
 almost to the knee. His withered hand was extended as 
 when he sat by the wayside for alms. 
 
 It was as if mere change of posture had been a charm to 
 quench his excitement. The life was gone from his limbs, 
 the fire from his eyes. He was become bowed and very 
 feeble — an old, old man whose hours are numbered. His 
 mouth hung open slavering. The underlip moved perpetually 
 
150 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 as he gurgled certain phrases, always the same, seeming catch- 
 words to something he would fain recall. 
 
 "Allah is bountiful ... I slew him . . . Din 
 Muhammed . . . O blessed left hand . . . Allah is bounti- 
 ful! . . * 
 
 Nur shook him with rough kindness as she set a smoking 
 bowl of chopped meat and rice at his knees with the charge to 
 wake up and eat. She held the dish under his nostrils that 
 the savoury steam might beget a craving. She grew poetical 
 in praise of its contents ; but all in vain. 
 
 Mechanically he thrust a trembling hand into the mess and 
 raised a portion to his mouth ; but he let the rice slip through 
 his fingers without so much as licking them. 
 
 Nur was greatly concerned. He must be on the brink of 
 death, she told herself, thus to neglect good victuals, he who 
 was always wont to come in ravenous from a day's begging. 
 She made shift to feed him with her own hands and rejoiced 
 to find that he swallowed the morsels placed in his mouth. 
 
 While she was thus occupied the door was tried from 
 without. A knocking ensued, and the voice of Said calling 
 to her to open. She left her charge and flew to shoot back 
 the bolt. 
 
 "Where is Mustafa? . . . Bid him come away with all 
 speed ! It is said that search is made for us for our part in the 
 destruction of Yuhanna's house. Ah, there he is ! Rise, O my 
 father, and come with me. The carnage of this day is nothing 
 compared with what to-morrow's sun will see. Know that a 
 great multitude of Christians, fugitives from the Mountain, 
 have entered the city seeking refuge. And many Druz, both 
 from the Mountain and the Hauran, have pursued them 
 hither. I met a party of them in this minute as I came 
 through the street. They are strong men of war and armed 
 like soldiers. They are eager as ourselves against the pagans. 
 . . . Arise, O Mustafa, and come away ! It is known that 
 we frequent this place, and it were a shame to be taken a 
 prisoner on the eve of so great a festival. . . . Arise, I say ! 
 What ails thee ? Art ill ? Speak ! What is this, O Nur ? " 
 
 The woman clung to his arm. 
 
 " Merciful Allah ! I fear he is at the point to die. At his 
 first coming he was as one possessed, shouting and screaming 
 and waving his hands. It was very hard for me to quiet him. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 151 
 
 Now he is like one in a swoon ; he sees me not nor hears me, 
 and is weaker than a baby." 
 
 " I warrant he is only tired. If Allah will I shall find 
 means to rouse him. He is as my father, and this place is 
 dangerous for him." 
 
 He strode to the place where Mustafa sat cross-legged, 
 mumbling fragments of sentences, and staring at the basin of 
 rice and meat. He grasped the old man's shoulder and bent 
 over him, raising his voice as if to overtake the wandering 
 mind and call it back. 
 
 " Fie upon thee, O my father ! " he cried, " thou who hast 
 this day slain the enemy with thy own hand, and hast done 
 battle so bravely for the Faith, to sicken and faint like a 
 vaporous girl. Allah witness I am ashamed for thee ! Awake, 
 O Mustafa ! This place is not safe for us. The soldiers — 
 Allah blast them ! — may be seeking us even now. If we stay 
 here we shall be taken and put in prison, and must forego all 
 the glory of to-morrow's slaughter. The wrath of Islam burns 
 like a great fire to consume the infidels. From the hour of 
 sunrise the slaying will begin. Men will look for thee, O my 
 father, in the front of the battle. They will marvel greatly 
 and say one to another, ' Where now is that old lion which 
 devoured Yuhanna, the pig ? ' They will look for thee to lead 
 them on ; it were a sin to disappoint them. Up, O Mustafa ! 
 The danger grows with every minute. Awake ! — y' Allah ! — 
 for the faith of Muhammed ! " 
 
 The last words were of magic virtue. The dying embers of 
 the old man's wit leapt up at them in lurid flame. With a 
 cry he sprang to his feet, staring wild-eyed at Said. 
 
 M Din Muhammed ! — I slew him ! O glorious left hand \ 
 Allah is bountiful ! Yes, I hear thee, my son, and I under- 
 stand. I was asleep, not so? I was weary and so I fell 
 asleep, and methought the angel of death was with me. But 
 it was a dream surely. I will go with thee, O my eyes, whither 
 thou wilt, so that there be men to kill — fat men like him, who 
 lie on beds of down. — Ha, ha ! — while I who slew him am used 
 to lie on the hard-trodden ground. I must be strong, sayest 
 thou ? Now, by my beard, that is a foolish word ; for who is 
 stronger than Mustafa ? 'Hanna was weaker for I slew him 
 easily, witness Allah and the blood-stains on my left hand. O 
 glorious hand ! But it is true what thou sayest, that a man's 
 
152 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 strength must be nourished with meat. Of course, I will eat ; 
 and to-morrow I will do great slaughter — thou and I together, 
 O my soul. O blessed left hand ! Allah is bountiful ! " 
 
 He swallowed the food hastily by great mouth fuls, with no 
 signs of relish. When the bowl was empty Nur brought him 
 a cup of hot coffee, which he gulped down in like manner. 
 He grew reasonable, taking counsel with Said as to the best 
 place for them to lie till morning. The old woman, seeing 
 him fairly in the way of health, wished them both a happy 
 night, and returned to the upper chamber to look after the 
 girl Ferideh, whose moans and lamentations, though unheeded 
 in the greater anxiety attending the beggar's plight, had long 
 been audible. 
 
 " Take care that she do herself no mischief : she is a very 
 tigress ! " Said called after her as he and his adopted father 
 stepped out into the night. They went stealthily, by 
 narrow ways the moonbeams seldom fathomed, to a small 
 tavern kept by a Muslim, which was towards the Christian 
 quarter. Others of the insurgents had likewise chosen that 
 place for their night's shelter. There were blithe greetings. 
 A discussion was going on, in which Mustafa, having no care 
 to rest, joined eagerly. But Said, being very drowsv, yawned 
 cavernously at all that was said. He soon stretched lis length 
 on the floor and fell fast asleep. 
 
XXV 
 
 «« l~VlN ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! » . . . " Allah ! Allah ! ■ 
 I J ... " Death to the unbelievers ! " . . . M Perish the 
 Nazarenes ! " . . . 
 
 Said awoke to the consciousness of a frightful uproar 
 streaming in with a sunbeam through the open door. The 
 whole city was filled with it — wrapt in it as in a mist. 
 Frenzied shouts for Allah and the Prophet, devilish yells and 
 cries of exultation mingled with the run of a great multitude 
 in the street without, the distant beat of a drum and a sound 
 of desultory firing. 
 
 The tavern, in deep shadow, was empty save for the old 
 beggar, who stood over him brandishing a curved knife like a 
 sickle iif his sound hand, while with the withered he pointed 
 to the piece of an iron bar which lay on the ground close to 
 Said. A fierce devil looked out at his eyes. 
 
 " Arise, O sluggard ! " he cried with a mad laugh. " Is this 
 a time to sleep and be lazy ? Come, let us out ! There will 
 be blood ! — blood ! — blood of unbelievers to flush the streets 
 like water ! Aha, the dogs of the city shall drink rare wine 
 to-night ! " 
 
 Said's eyes caught fire from the speaker's. Grasping the 
 iron, he sprang to his feet. " Ready ! " he cried ; and with a 
 bound like a wild beast's they cleared the threshold together. 
 
 A live stream filled the alley — a torrent of men and boys ; 
 all with the murder-light in their eyes, all flourishing weapons, 
 all racing in one direction. The current caught them and 
 swept them along. 
 
 "In case we be sundered in the tumult/' breathed Mustafa, 
 "meet me in the place thou knowest — in the secret place of 
 our treasure among the gardens — at the hour of sunset. Forget 
 not!" 
 
 153 
 
154 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Said turned his head to answer ; but the old man was torn 
 away from him in a sudden eddy of the human tide to avoid 
 the frantic kicking of a donkey which held the middle of the 
 causeway. He found himself roughly shouldered between two 
 Druz of giant build, clad in the black-and-white cloak and 
 white linen turban of their tribe. Each had a long-barrelled 
 gun slung across his back and a knife in his hand. They 
 ran steadily, with teeth clenched and eyes full of a grim 
 purpose, hustling Said along with them unawares. 
 
 "Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed!" . . . The mountaineers, 
 though unbelievers, joined lustily in the cry of El Islam. 
 They had come fifty miles in pursuit of their quarry and now 
 they had run him to earth. " Din 'hammed ! " a child's voice 
 piped manfully ; and Said beheld a little boy in a man's arms, 
 brandishing a toy knife as he was borne along, crowing for joy 
 of the merry race and the shouting. There was a stoppage in 
 front ; but those behind still continued to push on, regardless 
 of the protests of such as were tall enough to see the nature of 
 the obstacle. 
 
 The giant on Said's right proclaimed that certain persons 
 of authority were sorting the crowd, sending some this way, 
 others that, to join bands already at work. He licked his lips 
 as he added that he himself had slain fifty Maronites between 
 the first hour and the fourth, at the taking of Zahleh. By 
 Allah, it was the business to whet a man's appetite. He 
 remembered to have eaten a whole sheep that day — to have 
 rent it limb from limb and devoured it yet warm and un- 
 cooked, he was so hungry. But his remarks were lost for the 
 most part in the general uproar. 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! . . ." Said was past the 
 obstacle, speeding over the rough pavement of a lane in 
 shadow. The sky, a narrow streamer of living blue, seemed 
 to flutter and wave overhead as he ran with throbbing brow 
 and panting chest. With the two Druz and a hundred others 
 he was told off to join a part of the mob who were gone to 
 raze the house of the Muscovite Consul, whose ill-timed 
 meddling had fired the people. The two Druz lost their 
 eagerness. 
 
 " What have we to do with this Frank ? " Said heard one 
 say to the other. "Let us turn — what sayest thou? Our 
 enemies are yonder ! " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 155 
 
 " True," breathed the other ; and they slackened so as to 
 drop behind. 
 
 The house of the Consul was already in flames when 
 Said's reinforcement came up. Little pillars and wreaths of 
 brown smoke curled upward from it, to condense in a low 
 cloud like a frown upon the tranquil sky. A seething, roaring 
 throng, close-packed from wall to wall, choked every approach. 
 By mounting on a high stone beside a doorway Said contrived 
 to see what was doing. 
 
 Furniture and other goods, which the greed of the in- 
 surgents had dragged from the burning house, were being 
 tossed back into the blaze by order of an aged man invested 
 with some sort of authority. This person seemed some prophet 
 or dervish — a holy man in any case, for he was naked save for 
 a loose shirt of sackcloth, and his legs and arms were almost 
 black through long exposure. He capered about in a solemn 
 measure, screaming, praising Allah, and exhorting the faithful 
 to fresh exertions. 
 
 There was a movement on the outskirts of the crowd. 
 Where was the goot in standing idle, looking on at the 
 prowess of others, when there was work enough for every man 
 that day? 
 
 "Din! Din! Din Muhammed!" . . . Even to Said's 
 maddened brain it occurred that there was some rough order 
 in the mob. A band of butchers were there in their slaughter- 
 house garb, with long knives dripping blood not of beasts. 
 Men forced their way into homes, he among them, upsetting 
 costly furniture, trampling rich carpets in their zeal to seize on 
 the inmates. These they spat upon, spurned, insulted and 
 dragged out into the street, where the aforesaid butchers waited 
 to despatch them. 
 
 Girls were embraced brutally and borne shrieking away in 
 the arms of men whose clothing was bespattered with the 
 blood of a father or mother. Crones strained and knotted 
 their wizened throats in supplication for the spark of life that 
 yet warmed them. Dwellings were looted, then set on fire. 
 Said, in his search of the house of a rich merchant, saw a foot 
 peeping out from a heap of bedding. He laid hold of it and, 
 pulling with a will, elicited an old, white-bearded man whose 
 face was grey with terror. He shrieked to Miriam, Mother ot 
 God, to help him ; but Said had him fast by the throat, thin 
 
156 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 and gristly as a hen's, and soon pitched him headlong down a 
 short flight of stone steps. He toppled senseless at the feet of 
 one of the butchers, who, being idle for the moment, knifed 
 him at once. 
 
 The thought of Ferideh, awaiting his further pleasure in 
 the safe-keeping of old Nur, filled the fisherman with a kind of 
 drunken joy. She had bitten his arm last night and the 
 wound pained him yet. What matter! There would be 
 plenty of leisure to punish and tame her by-and-by. She 
 would learn to worship him in the beautiful house he would 
 build for her out of her father's hoard. His brain whirled. 
 He had the strength of two men. He saw all things in the 
 redness of eyelids closed against the sun ; felt and cared for 
 nothing save the lust of blood and the joy of killing. . . . 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " 
 
 A sound of firing came out of the distance — a single volley 
 followed by faint cries. One or two strained ears to listen ; 
 but the hoarse shouts of the slayers and piercing shrieks of 
 their victims made it hard to ascertain noises more remote. 
 Zeal continued unabated. Men, women and children were 
 dragged out of the shadowy doorways to be hacked to death 
 on the causeway beneath the ribbon of peaceful blue sky 
 which the smoke of burning houses began to veil in part. 
 The mob jeered and reviled their last agonies. Some were 
 found to spit in the faces of the newly slain. And the name 
 of Allah was in every man's mouth. 
 
 Of a sudden a tremor ran through the multitude. The 
 uproar dwindled to a murmur, above which terrified cries were 
 heard, growing louder and nearer. 
 
 "The soldiers!" — "The soldiers have scattered us!" — 
 "Allah destroy them ! " — " They have killed Ahmed, my 
 brother ! " — " I am wounded even to death ! " 
 
 The broken remnant of some other band poured headlong 
 from the arched entry of a by-street and made haste to mingle 
 and lose themselves in the stagnant crowd which choked their 
 way. They came running, beards on shoulders, faces blanched 
 with fright, and slipped in among the throng as a lizard slips 
 under a stone for safety. 
 
 The butchers stayed their hands and wiped their knives on 
 the skirts of their clothing. The feeders poured out of door- 
 ways to hear the news. Said struck a squealing Nazarene on 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 157 
 
 the head with his iron bar and looked out from the lattice of 
 the upper storey where he found himself. He glanced down 
 upon the press of dark fezzes and light turbans in fierce sunlight 
 and plum-coloured shadow. The sea of heads rolled purpose- 
 less like beads unstrung from a chaplet. All at once a yell of 
 rage uprose. 
 
 " The soldiers ! — Allah cut their lives ! — The soldiers ! — 
 let us slay them ! — Let us fly ! — Let us stone them to death 
 who favour the infidels ! " At the street end, where there was 
 a great pool of sunlight, Said caught the glint of gun-barrels 
 and recognised the uniform of the irregular troops. He saw a 
 sword flash as an officer of high rank flourished it; and 
 through all the cursing of the mob he heard a word of com- 
 mand, short and gruff like the grunt of a pig. A howl of exe- 
 cration rent the air. The front rank of the troops were taking 
 deliberate aim at the rioters. 
 
 Said beheld the surging sea of heads with the unconcerned 
 pijy of an angel or a sage. Packed close as they were down 
 there, every shot must tell. He gave warm praise to Allah 
 Most High, who had placed his servant in that upper chamber, 
 whence he could observe all that passed without peril. 
 
 Then he saw a strange sight. The rabble had shrunk back 
 before the muzzles of the rifles covering them. Across the 
 space of pavement thus deserted rushed the wild figure he had 
 observed before the consul's house. The holy one ran up to 
 the officer and confronted him with gestures of command and 
 entreaty. 
 
 " Shall Muslim war with Muslim ? " A shrill voice rang 
 clear on the hush which ensued. "Will you then separate 
 yourselves from the cause of Allah and His Apostle to side 
 with pagans and idolaters ? Will you shoot down the servants 
 of the Highest like dogs ? I heard a voice in the night say- 
 ing, Go to the city, Es-Sham, and tell the dwellers there : The 
 word of Allah to such as are faithful. Slay me the unbelievers 
 which aspire to sit in high places ! Slay the whole race of them, 
 the child with the strong man, the woman giving suck with the 
 aged one whose eyes are dim ! Let not a soul of them remain 
 alive, for the welfare of Islam is in it ! — Will you then anger 
 the Praiseworthy? Will you then . . ." 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " 
 
 The words of the saint were drowned in a shout which 
 
158 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 thrilled Said to the marrow and made tears start in his eyes. 
 The officer took a written paper embodying his orders and 
 tore it to little pieces. The soldiers flung down their rifles 
 with a great noise. With frantic exclamations the crowd 
 surged towards them, enveloped them, embraced them and 
 made them one with it. The Colonel waved his sword on 
 high, shouting for Allah and the Prophet. It was who should 
 kiss his hand, his scabbard, his clothing — anything that was 
 his. 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! . . ." The mob, thus rein- 
 forced, set to work once more. M To the French convent ! " 
 someone shouted. "Let the nuns be ravished and then 
 slain ! " The cry was taken up on all hands with laughter and 
 coarse jibes. " The nuns ! The nuns ! " " Aha, the nuns 
 are sweet!" "They have kept their flower for us, the 
 darlings ! " " Let us see how the nuns are fashioned ! " 
 
 There was a breathless rush, of sheep following blindly the 
 track of an unseen leader. Said was more than once crushed 
 against a wall of the narrow ways they traversed ; but he was 
 stalwart and held his own. Then there was a standstill. 
 Those in front hammered at a strong door, while those behind 
 stood on tiptoe and craned their necks to see what was doing. 
 
 All at once there was a backward movement. Another 
 panic got hold of the crowd. A cry, " The soldiers ! " was 
 again raised; but was received with jeers by such of the mob 
 as were of that calling. A small troop of armed men rode up 
 to the door of the nunnery. They were seen plainly of all, 
 towering as they did on horseback above the seething mass on 
 foot. Most of them rode their chargers at the foremost, who 
 drew back in alarm ; while a few, among whom was the leader, 
 dismounted and entered the convent, the door of which was 
 promptly opened to them. 
 
 A mighty roar went up from the multitude. 
 
 "It is Abdul Cader!" — "May Allah preserve his Grace!" — 
 " He goes to take vengeance upon his enemies ! " — " It was the 
 French who wronged and imprisoned him, though he fought 
 them brave as a lion ! " — " He is come to claim the French nuns 
 for his harim !"—" Allah is just!"— "May all the Franks 
 perish, and their women be dishonoured ! " — " Long live 
 the might of Islam ! n — " May Allah preserve Abdul Cader, 
 the glory of the Faith ! " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 150 
 
 But applause was turned to oaths and howls of rage when 
 the hero and his officers reappeared, escorting with respect a 
 train of black-robed nuns, each with the obnoxious cross 
 shining on her bosom. The horsemen closed around them as 
 a bodyguard ; the leaders sprang to their saddles. Then the 
 fury of the crowd broke all bounds. The coolness of the 
 rescuers as they rode away had a point of contempt which 
 stung the rout to madness. 
 
 "Din! Din! Din Muhammed ! " . . . "Death to the 
 enemies of Allah!" . . . "Who dares protect those whose 
 lives are forfeit to Isl&m !"..." Perish Abdul Cader !" . . . 
 "Death to the traitors of Eljizar." Raging like a winter- 
 torrent, the crowd surged forward in pursuit. The horsemen 
 were constrained to a foot's pace, having regard to the women 
 in their midst. The mob was close upon them. Stones and 
 other missiles began to whizz through the air. Of a sudden 
 the whole mass swayed back, every man jostling his neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 Abdul Cader had turned his horse about and was sitting 
 motionless, his eyes ranging sternly over the sea of turbaned 
 heads and swarthy, malignant faces. A last stone, flung at 
 random from the heart of the throng, struck his arm and made 
 him wince. He raised a hand to his tarbush, commanding 
 silence. An awe-stricken hush spread like a breath over the 
 crowd. This man was the established idol of the populace. 
 He was the greatest living hero of Islam, and at heart they 
 gloried in his intrepidity. 
 
 "What is this, O my friends?" His voice rang out clear 
 and measured. " Will you provoke the wrath of Allah against 
 this city ? Will you anger him so that he turn away his face 
 from us for ever ? It has been told you how I have fought 
 for Islam — ay, and borne imprisonment and exile for our 
 holy Faith. But I tell you I would rather be the meanest 
 Christian slain this day in the sight of Allah than one of 
 you whose hands are red with his blood. Shame on you, 
 Muslimun ! — Shame on you, I say ! Would to Allah I had 
 gone to my grave ere ever this day dawned for the Faith ! " 
 
 He gazed for a moment, silent on the silent crowd ; then, 
 turning, set spurs to his horse and cantered away. But the 
 foremost, among whom was Said, saw that his eyes glistened. 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " It was the holy man 
 
160 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 who raised the shout once more, waving his gnarled brown 
 arms above the crowd. " Who dares withstand the justice 
 of Allah? Slay him also, who rescues the condemned of 
 God ! Onward ! Din ! Din ! " 
 
 But the words of Abdul Cader had wrought a change in 
 the temper of the multitude. Some there were who lagged 
 behind. Said's thirst for blood was somewhat slaked by this. 
 There was time, he bethought him, to visit Ferideh and snatch 
 a kiss from her before keeping his appointment with Mustafa. 
 He slipped aside into an archway which gave access to a 
 shady passage barely wide enough for two to walk abreast, 
 and made his way by forsaken paths to the prison of his 
 desire. And ever as he went the roar of the tumult was in 
 his ears, now loud and near, now soft and melting in the 
 distance, like the thunder of surf upon a rock-bound coast : 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " 
 
XXVI 
 
 FOR once Nur was cross wi^n Said. No sooner did she 
 understand the reason pf his coming than she lifted up 
 her voice and chid him roundly. Upon his persisting, she 
 threw herself in his way and forbade him to advance another 
 step. The girl was ill enough already without the aggravation 
 of his presence. If he. so much as set foot in that upper 
 room, she (Nur) would cease to befriend him and would let 
 the girl go free. 
 
 Cowed by her vehemence, Said grumbled that he had no 
 instant wish to harm the maid, but was come just to see how 
 she did ; with much more, scarcely audible, about his own 
 property, and kissing, 'and no sin. Whereupon the old woman 
 became herself again, called him the light of her eyes, and 
 detecting some tell-tale stains upon his raiment soaked a rag 
 in a vessel of water and made haste to sponge it. The strong 
 perfume of her unguents kept him quiet and submissive while 
 she purified him. His eyes languished and his lips parted as 
 he inhaled it. 
 
 Bending close to him over the task, — 
 
 " It is a kindness I do thee, O my soul ! " she said. 
 "Suppose soldiers or other slaves of authority met thee with 
 the marks of blood on thy robe, by thy beard, I think it would 
 fare ill with thee. As for that girl thou lovest, she has been 
 all day like a madwoman. She is deaf to all my comfortable 
 words, and cries ever to Allah that he should take her life. 
 She boasts that she will beat herself to death against a stone 
 of the wall sooner than endure thy embrace ; that is why I 
 stayed thee. To-day is but the morrow of her disaster. Leave 
 me alone to deal with her, and, after a few days, I warrant 
 thou shalt find her tractable. When she is tame enough I 
 shall send thee word. With thy share of the treasure of which 
 L 161 
 
162 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Mustafa speaks, thou mayest well afford to hire a fine house 
 for her. With a fine house and a gift in thy hand what girl 
 could gainsay thee? For thou art handsome, my dear, 
 straight as a palm-tree, strong as a lion. Does the work of 
 slaughter flag that thou comest hither thus early ? " 
 
 Said told her something of the day's doings, while she, 
 vowing that he must be famished, brought some bread and 
 dried raisins from the inner room. He was in truth pretty 
 hungry, though the fact had escaped his mind. His jaws 
 worked as a busy mill to which grist came unfailingly by great 
 handfuls. Nur wished him two healths, and, squatting on 
 her heels, kept her painted eyes fixed on him in a kind of 
 dotage. 
 
 " I am sorry thou didst lose sigh f of Mustafa," she said at 
 length, speaking chiefly to herself, f He was ill yesterday in 
 the evening — very ill, so that I deemed him at the gate 
 of death. Allah restore him to us in safety and good 
 health ! " 
 
 Said's utterance was somewhat choked, his mouth being 
 crammed with leathery bread. 
 
 " Hadst thou been with us in the tumult, O my eyes, thou 
 wouldst not marvel that we were forced asunder," he mumbled. 
 u No man thought of his neighbour, but each ran alone for 
 himself, taking care not to stumble lest the multitude behind 
 should tread out his life. Praise be to Allah that he has 
 granted me to see this day ! Not a street of that quarter but 
 has dark pools of blood on its pavement — blood of the heathen, 
 of the unbelievers, which to shed is a pious deed. At the 
 hour of sunset I am bound to meet Mustafa in a place 
 appointed among the gardens. O happy day ! " 
 
 " In sh' Allah, thou wilt find him in the extremity of good 
 health ! " exclaimed Nur, rising to prepare herself a narghileh. 
 " As for the maiden, the daughter of Yuhanna, I have said 
 that I will tame her for thee. Seek not to approach her 
 until I send thee word. Prepare a fine house for her and 
 bring a gift in thy hand. Force is one way to succeed, but 
 there is a better, I do assure thee." 
 
 The sun's rays were red upon the upper roofs when Said 
 left the cellar. He saw no man in the streets save such 
 as were very old and feeble. Veiled women and girls, 
 some with babies in their arms, stood chattering together 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 163 
 
 in doorways or at the cross-roads. They called to him for 
 news. 
 
 In passing the tavern of Abu Khalil, he beheld the fat 
 host seated on a stool in the doorway, wide £wake, his face 
 expressive of the deepest disgust. He appeared to be afflicted 
 with an itch in the calf of his leg, for he was scratching the 
 place slowly and woefully with a shard. 
 
 " Peace on thee, O Abu Khalil ! " cri^d the fisherman as 
 he sped by. / 
 
 " Upon thee be the peace, and/the mercy of Allah and 
 his blessings ! n retorted the tavtfrner, with a dismal groan. 
 " But say, why dost thou hasten/? Stay a little and tell me, 
 hast thou heard aught of my' son ? — of Camr-ud-din ? The 
 villain escaped about the second hour. Doubtless, he is with 
 the slayers — curse his religion ! and behold there is none left 
 to serve in the house, his mother being sick this day. Wait 
 a minute, I say — may thy ho\ise be destroyed ! " 
 
 But Said only cried ,"((Ulah comfort thee!" over his 
 shoulder as he hurried on. The thought of Mustafa and 
 the treasure lent wings to his feet. Besides, it seemed a 
 small matter that Abu Khalil should lack his son's help that 
 day, seeing it was a dull time of business, all likely customers 
 keeping festival elsewhere. A surge-like roar was ever in his 
 ears, loud or distant according to the trend of the streets he 
 traversed. 
 
 Turning a sharp corner, he collided with a man in as 
 great a hurry as himself. The shock was very great. Said 
 rubbed himself ruefully, and so did the stranger. They were 
 about to curse each other and pursue their several ways when 
 recognition turned their gall to honey. The fisherman blessed 
 Sehm, and Selim blessed the fisherman. They embraced, 
 and Said, having a view to his own profit, inquired with what 
 eye his Excellency, the Waly, deigned to regard the 
 disturbance. 
 
 "Alas ! " cried the other, lifting hands and eyes towards as 
 much of the purpled heaven as was visible between the roof- 
 lines, "my lord is distraught with grief. The Franks ply 
 him ever with angry demands that he take instant measures 
 to put down the tumult. Allah knows that he has done all 
 that was in his power to do. The garrison was divided in 
 two companies, and sent forth with orders to fire on the 
 
164 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 rebels without mercy. One division with its officers deserted 
 to the people ; the other, after firing one volley and wreaking 
 great havoc, v T as withdrawn lest they too should make common 
 cause with the insurgents. The Council was summoned, and 
 Ahmed Basha b'igned with his own hand a paper declaring 
 that the Government can do nothing. He sent an express for 
 Abdul Cader, but was refused because Abdul Cader and all 
 his followers were busy rescuing great numbers of the 
 Nazarenes and conveying them by families to the castle. 
 He invited the Basha to bring but fifty armed men and ride 
 with him, saying that with so small a reinforcement as that he 
 would undertake to quell the riot in a few hours. 
 
 " It was Selim who was charged with the message, and I 
 would to Allah it had been some other. For my lord began 
 to weep and wring his hands, being, as I guess, afraid for his 
 life to ride forth, yet ashamed to play the coward in the sight 
 of an old lion like Abdul Cader. Before I left his presence 
 he took a leaf of paper and V^an to draw upon it what 
 seemed a plan of the city, crying, 'Thus and thus it should 
 have been. So and so I should have acted.' It was as 
 though the squeak of the reed on the leaf brought comfort 
 to him. Poor great man ! I tell thee, my heart was sick 
 for pity of him. All in the palace agree that the Franks 
 will have him slain for this hesitation which is his 
 infirmity. 
 
 " I go now to buy a little food for those who have taken 
 refuge in the palace-yard. There is a great crowd, and who 
 can tell how long the slaughter will last ? Many must die of 
 hunger, and that is not pleasant to see in the court of the 
 house where one dwells. To slay a foe in anger, and his 
 woman, and his sons and daughters, is natural for all the 
 Franks say. It is natural that a man should seek to destroy 
 his enemy once for all, and wash the land clean of his name. 
 Vengeance of blood, from what they say, is a thing unknown 
 among the Franks. The price of blood has no claim among 
 their customs. Were it otherwise, they would better under- 
 stand our manner of warfare. But what do I, loitering by 
 the way? In thy grace, O my brother! Allah guard thee 
 till we meet again I " 
 
 When Said at length passed out at the town-gate, twilight 
 was rising from the ground. Shadows, which were half a 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 165 
 
 light, floated among the tree-trunks. He had yet a good way 
 to go, and the sun was set ; he hurried on, therefore, along a 
 lair road almost roofed with leafage and bordered by hedges 
 which smelt sweet. In a place where black trees of mournful 
 seeming grew sparsely amid a wilderness of white stones, he 
 beheld veiled figures flitting darkly among the tombs and 
 knew them for women caring for their dead. 
 
 The zeal of the faithful must have waned with the sun, 
 for he overtook and passed several groups of men, dusty and 
 disordered ; and, as he crossed a bridge, the twang of an aud 
 and wailing chant of a singer reached him from some tavern 
 down the stream. Nevertheless, he still heard the roar of 
 the tumult through a tremulous veil, as it were, of nearer 
 sounds — the droning plaint of the singer, the bark of a dog, 
 chirping of birds, croaking of frogs, the murmur of the 
 stream and the rustle of leaves. It was the same roar that 
 he had heard on awaking, only fainter and with a note of 
 satiety. He wondered what the drum was that had been 
 beating all day, and was beating yet somewhere in the city. 
 And even as he listened and wondered, the cry of the muezzin 
 rose shrill above the din, followed by another — by a host of 
 others, until all the plain was filled with their message. The 
 turmoil sank and died away. The drum was no more hearcl. 
 The unbelievers enjoyed a respite while the faithful said their 
 prayers. 
 
 Selecting a little patch of grass by the wayside, beneath 
 a great mulberry-tree, Said fell on his face and gave praise 
 and thanks to Allah. It pleased him to think on how few 
 days of his life he had omitted to pray at each appointed hour. 
 He asked Allah to forgive him the omissions, not to let them 
 weigh against his virtues to destroy him. Then, shrugging 
 his shoulders resignedly, he rose, inhaled a perfumed breath 
 of the night, and murmured, "Allah is just!" 
 
 At the point where a garden-track branched from the main 
 road, and blunting the angle, stood a building one would 
 have taken for a large wely or saint's tomb, flanked and 
 dwarfed by twin cypress-trees. A pious foundation from of 
 old, it served the double purpose of a fountain and a place 
 of rest for wayfarers. It consisted of a centre arch, admitting 
 to the spout and trough, and of a recess on either hand ; and 
 was surmounted by three domes in proportion to these 
 
166 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 divisions, that in the middle being much higher than the 
 other two, which peeped over the square roof as a skull-cap 
 shows above a turban. 
 
 The fountain whitened in the half light amid the gloom 
 of the surrounding foliage. The two cypress-trees stood up 
 blackly, their tufts cutting the green sky. Said's eagerness 
 grew apace. He walked faster and faster, and was on the 
 point of girding up his loins to run when a loud voice turned 
 him to stone. It was the voice of Mustafa, but it had a new 
 intonation which made his flesh creep. It came from within 
 the building, very harsh upon the evening murmur and the 
 twilight, which, between them, were soft as velvet. 
 
 " Allah will give to you ! " There was something fierce 
 and exultant in the cry, which assorted gruesomely with that 
 prayer for alms. " Allah will give to you ! . . . I slew him, I 
 tell you. . . . See, I have a withered hand. O hand of my 
 honour — O blessed hand ! . . . O Lord ! . . . Take pity, O my 
 masters, or I die. . . . Allah witness, I slew him. Aha, he was fat 
 and lay on a bed of down, whereas I. . . . O Lord ! . . . Allah 
 will give to you ! . . . I am poor and lean while you are fat and 
 dwell in palaces. See the stains on my hand. . . . O hand of 
 my love — O happy left hand ! Take pity, hear you ? — or I will 
 slay all the race of you, fat men that lie on soft cushions. . . . 
 Aha, you look very funny, all you fat ones with your mouths 
 open, lying on green couches and your eyes turned over in 
 your heads. It is a merry sight. ... O Lord ! . . . Have com- 
 passion or I die. Merciful Allah, is there none to pity me ? . . . 
 Behold my father's house is washed clean of the reproach. . . . 
 Blood ! . . . I see blood ! — blood everywhere — blood of pigs 
 — blood of unbelievers. Lo ! the stream of it rises up to 
 heaven, and it is counted to me for righteousness. Allah 
 rejoices ! The Prophet smiles at God's right hand ! . . . O 
 Lord ! . . . Death to the unbelievers ! Perish the Christians \ 
 Din! Din! . . ." 
 
 Daunted by the hideous outcry and the gathering night, 
 Said stood still, shuddering, until the voice died away upon a 
 frightful shriek. Then he ran forward. 
 
 " May his house be destroyed," he breathed ruefully 
 between his clenched teeth. " It is sure he is possessed with 
 a devil. Why else should he cry aloud to summon all men 
 to the secret place of our wealth ! " The recess on either 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 167 
 
 side of the fountain was very dark. Said stood by the trough 
 of stone and whispered his friend's name. He spoke it aloud, 
 then shouted it, then made the vault ring with it on a despair- 
 ing yell of terror. Dead silence and a darkness which the 
 tinkle of a slender thread of water made hollow as a bell ; 
 more than all, the echo of his own voice almost killed him 
 with fright. He was haunted, the sport of malicious fiends. 
 They were mocking him somewhere in the gloom, pointing at 
 him and laughing noiselessly. He was minded to run, but 
 his feet were become of one piece with the uneven pavement. 
 It was that hopeless, blind terror which knows no beyond — 
 the despair of a child alone in the dark. He shut his eyes ; 
 but fear lined their lids with eyes and wheels of flame, which 
 rolled and dilated, scathing his very soul. Sure that dreadful 
 shapes were drawing near him, he opened them from excess of 
 fear; and, seeing nothing, was ten times more frightened 
 than before. He breathed hard. 
 
 However, as long seconds passed and nothing happened, 
 little by little the panic left him, and his wits, faint and 
 trembling, returned to him. The arch by which he had 
 entered was full of dark forms of trees quivering upon a 
 starry sky. He heard the howl and yelp of a jackal; no 
 doubt there were vineyards near with green clusters of half- 
 formed grapes such as foxes love. The well-known sound 
 and the everyday thoughts it engendered calmed him some- 
 what. A jangle of bells approaching along the road wholly 
 reassured him. For all that, it was with heart in mouth that he 
 stepped into the recess whence the cry of Mustafa had seemed 
 to proceed. 
 
 Straining his ears to retain the friendly sound of the camel- 
 bells, he passed a hand along the wall. All at once he 
 stumbled on something. He stooped down to feel what it 
 might be. 
 
 "O Mustafa!" he whispered fiercely, "what is this? . . . 
 Arise ! Awake ! Say, where is our treasure ? Let us take 
 each his share and return with speed to the city. Come, 
 awake, I say ! Make haste ! " 
 
 No answer. The mass was inert as he shook it ; an arm 
 flopped and that was all. He had nothing wherewith to get 
 a light, and it was very dark. Yet he felt brave and master 
 of himself, for the clangour of bells was drawing near and he 
 
168 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 could hear the voice of a camel-driver Chanting in praise of 
 love. 
 
 He found the old man's head and placed his hand over 
 his mouth. There was no warmth of a breath ; the lips were 
 cold and sticky. Then Said knew for certain that he was 
 handling a dead body. 
 
XXVII 
 
 SAID shuddered, not so much for the knowledge of his 
 own unclean ness, nor for the fear of death, as for the 
 loneness of this end by the roadside and for horror of the wild 
 cry he had heard. Since last the sun rose he had been 
 present at the killing of many men and women. But they 
 all had perished in the open street in the sunlight, amid the 
 shouting of a great multitude, with prayers and curses on 
 their lips; whereas Mustafa had met death in the dark, in a 
 lonely place with none to witness. 
 
 He thought of the treasure, that it was now all his own ; 
 and sorrow, like a spring of sweet water, welled up in his 
 heart for the loss of his more than father. But the next 
 minute he wished Mustafa no good for dying ere he had 
 made him privy to the hiding-place. By Allah, a loose stone 
 in the pavement was not so easy to find in the darkness, 
 without lamp or direction, and with a corpse for company. 
 
 The clash of bells grew very near indeed. The chant 
 ceased, and the singer shouted to a comrade at some distance. 
 Then the bells lost their rhythmic chime and jangled con- 
 fusedly. The train of camels had halted. 
 
 Soon an unwieldy, groaning bulk was led in to drink at 
 the fountain. Said stood very still against the wall of his 
 recess, watching the black shapes fearfully, quaking for his 
 treasure, lest the drivers should strike a light or any move- 
 ment of his should rouse suspicion. There were sounds of 
 sucking, gurgling and groaning, the swinging tramp of great 
 beasts, and a hairy smell. He heard the voices of the men 
 debating whether to enter the city in its present disturbed 
 state or to sleep at a khan they named without the gate. He 
 grew fretful, burning to begin his search for the treasure. It 
 must be taken away at once, lest the discovery of Mustafa's 
 body should lead to a thorough search of the place. 
 
 169 
 
170 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 At length the last camel was watered and he could hear 
 the men swear as they marshalled the train. The rhythmic 
 clangour broke out afresh. With an oath of relief he began 
 to crawl upon his hands and knees, feeling the pavement 
 stone by stone as he went. He felt everywhere to within a 
 hair's-breadth of the corpse ; but not a slab was loose, though 
 he fancied one or two rang hollow as he rapped them. The 
 camel bells were but a tinkle in the distance. He was alone 
 and fear breathed hot upon him. 
 
 In a kind of fury he gripped the dead man's arm and 
 dragged him into a corner. With the shiver of that contact 
 upon him he knelt down to examine the place where the 
 body had lain. There was a stone cast up — a wide hole. 
 Oh, for a little light ! 
 
 He let his forearm down into it ; and his hand felt gold, 
 both coinage and jewellery, which seemed to be contained in a 
 strong coffer of iron or brass, of which the lid was open. 
 Lying flat on his belly, with both arms in the hole, he long 
 strove to lift that chest — by the lid, by the side — but it would 
 not budge. Then he thought if he could only get his fingers 
 under it he would have better purchase. He needed some- 
 thing thin yet strong to thrust beneath it as a prise. 
 
 " May Allah cut short his life ! " he panted. "Who but a 
 madman would have left our wealth thus exposed ? By the 
 Prophet, it is lucky that I alone was at hand to hear his last 
 cry. . . . May his house be destroyed." 
 
 " Peace to him," he added as an afterthought, setting to 
 work once more. He took a knife from his girdle, and 
 managed so to force its stout blade under the treasure-box 
 that his fingers could take hold. He tugged and strained, 
 tendons cracking, sweat streaming from every pore. At last, 
 after many failures, he raised it clear out of the hole and set 
 it on the pavement. Praise to Allah ! 
 
 Sitting back on his heels to recover breath he mopped his 
 face with the lap of his robe. Mustafa was indeed a marvel 
 of strength to have carried that burden with anything like 
 secrecy from the house of Yuhanna hither. He turned the 
 miracle over in his mind, seeking its human side. Of a 
 sudden he recalled how the old man had spoken of the foun- 
 tain as a place where he was used to hide trifles of price. The 
 riddle was solved ; there was no great wonder after all. The 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 171 
 
 strong chest was the beggar's own. He had brought the 
 wealth of Yuhanna hither in a sack, or some vessel unlikely 
 to raise suspicion. He had then uncovered the hole, opened 
 the chest, and poured the treasure pell-mell upon its contents. 
 This evening he had naturally wished to gaze upon his riches. 
 And even as his eyes were glutted the angel of death had 
 passed over him. 
 
 Said's heart grew faint with rapture as he thought that 
 here was more than all the treasure of the Christian. Allah 
 alone knew what hoards Mustafa might have amassed during 
 long years of begging and pilfering. 
 
 "Thanks be to Allah !" he murmured. "May Allah in- 
 crease thy goods, O abu Mansur ! " 
 
 But the question was urgent — How to dispose of all this 
 wealth for the time being? He dared not replace it, lest, 
 when men came to remove the body of Mustafa, they should 
 chance upon the loose slab and haply discover it. To bury it 
 somewhere in the darkness and return with a sack in the early 
 morning seemed a bright thought ; but he could not regard 
 it with perfect favour, knowing what mischievous devils lurk 
 at night in lonesome places. A jinni might see him bury the 
 chest and play some vile prank such as turning the gold to 
 dross, or ashes, or salt, or freezing the ground above it to 
 solid rock. 
 
 At last he resolved to take his fortune along with him in 
 the pendant sack of his voluminous trousers. A weight down 
 there would attract no notice, for it is the custom of all men 
 to carry their marketings thus — their implements or whatever 
 is cumbrous in the hand. He stood and pulled up his over- 
 robe. Holding up the placket of his pantaloons, he took 
 money and jewels by handfuls and dropped them in. Passing 
 his hand along the bottom of the coffer to be sure it was quite 
 empty, he found a small coin which he left for an alms or 
 gleaning. He took a step to and fro to see how it felt. The 
 treasure swung as a solid whole, bumping his ankles, his shins, 
 and the calves of his legs. There was no clink or jingle to 
 betray its nature. It was clumsy, very uncomfortable, but 
 (praise to Allah !) quite safe. 
 
 He squatted to replace the chest and close the hole. The 
 posture was restful, for while it lasted the pavement bore his 
 burden. Then he rose, and, with a faint glance towards the 
 
172 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 carcase of Mustafa, moved gingerly away. But no sooner had 
 he turned his back upon the dead than a panic got hold of 
 him. He stumbled through the archway out into the whisper- 
 ing night as fast as the weight of his treasure would allow. 
 
 Weary and bruised all over, he sank within the threshold 
 of Nur's dwelling, bumping against a small donkey, saddled 
 and hung about with gaudy tassels, which stood there patiently 
 with swishing tail. A lamp was burning on the floor of the 
 inner room, and Said could see the vast bulk of Abu Khalil 
 seated beside the mistress in a languorous attitude. Nur rose 
 full of reproach on beholding the fisherman. 
 
 " Thou art returned, O my soul ? What is this ? Did I 
 not counsel thee not to come nigh her for a while? Moreover, 
 it is not safe for thee to be here. Search may perhaps be 
 made ; all wise men concerned in the riot sleep beyond the 
 walls to-night. Our friend, Abu Khalil, is come seeking news 
 of his son, Camr-ud-din . . ." 
 
 Peering into his face she broke off and cried, — 
 
 " How is Mustafa? Where is he ? Speak ! " 
 
 " O Nur, Mustafa is dead ! " murmured Said with a woeful 
 shake of the head. And in truth his heart was near to break- 
 ing, for the treasure had barked the shins of both his legs, not 
 to speak of ankles and the great weight to carry. 
 
 She screamed, — 
 
 "Just Allah ! Hearest thou that, O Abu Khalil? . . . O 
 day of disaster ! O evil day ! . . . Where is he ? Lead me 
 to him ! None but Nur shall lay him out for burial ! . . . 
 Hearken, O Said — O son of his soul and heir of all his wealth ! 
 I will hire a goodly company of women to bewail him with 
 beating of breasts and tearing of hair. Thou wilt not grudge 
 the money, for thou art a rich man through his death. . . . 
 Where is he ? Lead me to him ! " 
 
 Very mournfully Said told her that the body lay a long 
 way off, in the chamber of a certain fountain among the 
 gardens. He recounted the cry he had heard, the sudden 
 silence, and his finding Mustafa dead in the black recess. 
 
 " Allah is just ! * he said. " It were well if some men set 
 out at once to fetch him hither, for I heard the voice of a 
 jackal near to that place, and I would not have my father's 
 corpse a prey to unclean beasts. For myself, I am weary and 
 broken with grief, I may not return thither. I am now a rich 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 173 
 
 man, as thou sayest, the wealth of Mustafa being greater than 
 any man supposed. Let the burial be according to thy 
 desire." 
 
 During the narrative Abu Khalil had risen slowly from the 
 couch and dragged his vast bulk to the door to listen. Hear- 
 ing talk of the wealth of Mustafa, he appeared dazed, and 
 exclaimed, " Ma sh' Allah ! " under his breath. He strove to 
 treat Said as the heir, with a deference which old habits of 
 patronage made to sit awkwardly upon him. Nur was suddenly 
 inspired. She laid her hands wheedlingly on the shoulders of 
 the fat taverner and, darting love into his eyes, — 
 
 " O my beloved," she pleaded, " thou wilt go to the foun- 
 tain of which Said speaks. Thou canst find a neighbour or 
 two to go with thee : and thou wilt bring hither the body of 
 Mustafa ! Said, as thou seest, is broken with fatigue, else he 
 would bear thee company. I shall be very grateful to thee, 
 O my soul, and I shall await thee here. . . . Say not ■ Nay ' ! * 
 she cried impetuously, discounting his scandalised stare by a 
 pout and a girlish gesture. "I beseech thee, cross me not in 
 this matter. He was a rich man, remember; and thou wilt 
 not only oblige me, that am a woman and of no account, but 
 also confer a favour upon Said Effendi, heir to all his wealth, 
 who will henceforth rank with the great ones of Es-Sham. . . . 
 What sayest thou ? " 
 
 Abu Khalil, greatly perturbed, pushed his turban awry 
 the better to scratch his head. He glanced furtively from Nur 
 to Said, and from Said back again to Nur. 
 
 " Now, by Allah, this is no light thing you require of me. 
 Nevertheless, since it is the case of an old friend . . . and to 
 serve Said Effendi whom, I call Allah to witness, I have ever 
 regarded as a favourite son ... I say not that I will not go. 
 For all that, it is a hard thing for an old man, the father of a 
 family, to go out by night into the gardens where, as all men 
 know, gipsies and other children of sin do abound ; not to 
 speak of those who are more than men — jin, I mean, and 
 afarit; and the uncleanness I shall incur, and the tedious 
 purification to follow ..." 
 
 Said broke in coaxingly, — 
 
 " Be assured, O Abu Khalil, O lord of kindness, thou shalt 
 have a large reward ; may Allah increase thy property ! " 
 
 u Good. I go!" 
 
174 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Abu Khalll shuffled to the place where the ass stood 
 swishing its tail, and bestrode it so earnestly that he nearly fell 
 over on the other side. Then, remembering that his steed 
 was tethered, he leaned over its head to untie the rope. Nur 
 led the staggering beast up the steps and out into the alley, 
 which the beams of a rising moon were beginning to silver. 
 
 " I will seek out Zeid the carpenter and Abbas the Nubian 
 who sells sweet stuff!" said the taverner, bowing his head to 
 avoid contact with the lintel as he rode out. " Both are young 
 men, strong and fearless. Both have donkeys belonging to 
 them, so that we shall seem a goodly company riding together. 
 Moreover, Abbas has a rare whip he showed me yesterday, 
 being a strip of the hide of a crocodile or other monster 
 common in Masr where he bought it. By Allah, it is a fine 
 thong ! Two strokes of it would flay a dog. ... In your 
 grace ! " 
 
 " With my peace. Allah guard thee in safety ! " cried 
 Said and Nur in one breath as the doughty taverner ambled 
 away in moonlight and shadow, thwacking his steed bravely 
 on the hindmost part. The clip-clap of the donkey's hoofs 
 and its thousand mocking echoes soon died away. 
 
 Nur stood in the doorway looking after him. She stepped 
 forth into the street and listened towards the Christian 
 quarter. 
 
 "The tumult still continues," she said, returning. "It is 
 thin now and feeble — the shadow of that I heard during the 
 day. With the dawn it will revive ; and so it will be for many 
 days till every Nazarene is either slain or escaped far away. 
 There is a redness of fire on the sky yonder, where all day 
 long there was a cloud of smoke. They have slain Allah 
 knows how many hundred Christians; and Mustafa is 
 dead. 
 
 " My heart is very sad, O Said, light of my eyes ! Hadst 
 thou seen him as he was when first I knew him, thou wouldst 
 grieve for the days of a man which are as steps hewn in the 
 rock leading downward to a sepulchre. He was a fine man, 
 I tell thee — straight as a Bedawi's lance, strong and healthy 
 even as thou art. As the breath of winter tears leaves from a 
 mulberry-tree, so does the length of years strip the beauty and 
 the majesty from a man. At last the tree fall? and only the 
 bitter wind remains. . . . Allah is greatest ! " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 175 
 
 Said groaned aloud, — 
 
 " Allah is merciful ! But, by my beard, it was a cruel 
 word thou spakest, that I must go sleep without the city. 
 Only let me abide here and I swear I will not go near the girl 
 to trouble her." 
 
 " It cannot be," said Nur, firmly. " My house is thy house, 
 and thou art ever welcome to that which is mine. But Abu 
 Khalil has heard a rumour that search is made secretly for the 
 leaders in rebellion. It is true, what I told thee, that no wise 
 man sleeps within the city this night. To-morrow, in the day- 
 time, thou mayst show thyself without fear ; the slaves of power 
 will then be fast within doors for terror of their lives. I will 
 care for the girl and order all things seemly for the burial of 
 Mustafa. Go quickly, with my peace ! " 
 
 Said, who, for all his freedom of address, stood greatly in 
 awe of the old woman, rose grumbling from the floor, and, 
 holding up the pouch of his trousers like a sack, stumbled up 
 the steps into the moonshine. His nether limbs were very 
 sore and stiff with bruises. In walking he was careful to 
 keep his feet wide apart. He cut such a queer figure, seen 
 from behind, that Nur called after him to know what ailed 
 him. 
 
 " I am happy — in the extremity of good health ! " he cried 
 back with affected cheerfulness. " I did but trip over a stone 
 as I ran hither. My knees are somewhat bruised from the 
 fall." 
 
 " Stay, O my eyes, and let me rub them with a salve ! " she 
 cried again with seduction ; for, contrasting his gait with the 
 tones of his voice, she knew that he lied. 
 
 " May thy wealth increase ! — there is no need," he answered, 
 striving to quicken his step. 
 
 From a rhythmic bellying of the skirt of his long robe, as 
 well as from the manner of his going, Nur made a shrewd guess 
 at the nature of his embarrassment. 
 
 " He walks like a she-goat whose udders are overfull," she 
 thought, laughing to herself ; " there is something heavy and 
 cumbersome in the sack of his trousers." 
 
 That he was loth to linger or speak of the matter afforded 
 her more light. 
 
 " By the Coran, it is the treasure of Mustafa he carries thus 
 for safety, lest one should rob him of it ! He would not trust 
 
176 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 me so much as to let me know, and he bears his punishment 
 along with him. Allah is just ! " 
 
 And in the midst of her grief for the old beggar she 
 chuckled most heartily out there in the moonlight, pointing 
 the finger of scorn after him with keen and friendly relish of 
 his avarice. 
 
XXVIII 
 
 THAT was a ghastly night for Said — a night full of strange 
 faces, of awful whisperings, and of the shadow of death. 
 His first thought on leaving the city was to find some shelter 
 where he might sleep within call of his fellow-men. To that 
 end he sought the coffee-house of Rashid, thinking to find a 
 welcome there now that he was again on cordial terms with 
 Sellm. But as he went, in the tremulous shadow of the trees 
 and the moonlight between, he grew more and more afraid, 
 until the bump of the treasure against his shins and the patter 
 of his own footsteps were separate terrors. 
 
 It was almost within hail of the tavern, in the gloom of 
 some apricot-trees, that he blundered upon something soft, yet 
 tight, like a body or a full waterskin. He drew back aghast. 
 A shapeless mass rose before him with a horrid groan. Catch- 
 ing up the sack of his trousers he ran for dear life. Far from 
 allaying his terrors the lowing of a cow at his back lashed him 
 to fresh exertions. He knew it for the angry voice of a jinni 
 cursing him. 
 
 For hours he fled on by shadowy ways, pursued by a host 
 of devils. Foul shapes flitted and danced behind him ; dread 
 hands were stretched out to stay him and clutch his treasure ; 
 a flapping of huge wings filled the welkin. Pale faces he had 
 seen in death that day grinned at him from the ground, from 
 the sky, from the gloom of the trees. Even the dwellings of 
 men — a sleeping village half-seen between the trunks, flat- 
 roofed hovels and pleasure-houses bosomed in foliage — were 
 sinister, the abode of unknown fears. Fiends rollicked over 
 the whole earth. The vista of his life was packed with them 
 — a gruesome throng. From his youth up he had been their 
 sport. In the hour of his prosperity, whenever wealth had 
 seemed within his grasp, they had appeared to balk him. His 
 flight from his native town, the loss of his donkey, the robbery 
 M 177 
 
178 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 which had deprived him of the price of his horse — he saw 
 plainly the cause of all his misfortunes. Then, as now, he had 
 been the butt of evil spirits. 
 
 Of a sudden it occurred to him that the whole night was 
 a procession of ghastly, pallid shapes, moving silently as one 
 man. It seemed that he had a moment's insight into the 
 hidden mysteries of earth, that this gliding march of a vast, 
 fiendish army, unsuspected of men, had been going on ever 
 since the world began, and would continue unbroken till the 
 Last Day. The horror of it was not new to him. He had 
 experienced it before many times, but could not remember 
 when or under what circumstances. 
 
 Was not Abdullah himself an evil spirit? And the 
 soldier who had lifted his donkey — was he not an afrit in 
 disguise ? There was no doubt of it now as he recalled their 
 faces. 
 
 In his despair he thought lovingly of Hasneh. Why — oh, 
 why had he cast her off? To his fevered brain she seemed 
 desirable as on the day when he had first beheld her, a young 
 girl, at play with other maidens on the seashore. He would 
 have given the half of this treasure which was killing him for 
 a touch of her hand, for the sound of her voice. 
 
 Once he stood still in an open place. He had a mind to 
 lighten his trousers by flinging all his wealth upon the ground. 
 It was for that that the hordes of darkness were tormenting 
 him. He cried aloud that all of them might know his pur- 
 pose, and bade them swear a solemn oath that they would let 
 him go in peace. But there came no answer ; only a jackal's 
 cry out of the distance, ending in three short yaps. It 
 rang derisive — very like a laugh. At that Said grew dogged. 
 Since not a jinni of them all would swear, it was their look- 
 out and he would keep the treasure. For two seconds he felt 
 courageous and knew that there were trees about him rustling 
 peacefully in the moonlight. 
 
 Fear breathed hot on him again and he ran, a hideous 
 whisper in his ears. The balm of the silky Eastern night had 
 no sweetness for him. Shifting the sack of his trousers from 
 aching hand to hand, striving to keep his mind intent upon 
 the name of Allah, he fled on. The trees thinned about him ; 
 the gardens gave place to vineyards ; the vineyards thinned 
 in their turn with spaces of waste land between ; the wide 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 179 
 
 plain rolled out before him with soft undulations to some 
 low hills on the horizon floating in pale haze. The boundless 
 silence throbbed in his ears like the pulse of a living creature. 
 The plain whitened in the moonshine. Here and there, as 
 the ground waved, there were ribs of velvet gloom. A lonely 
 tree, a peasant's hovel, a dark patch of cultivated land, a 
 square-built khan, a knoll, a jutting boulder — the least object 
 was distinct with a black shadow on the smooth - rolling 
 expanse. 
 
 With a clear view all round him and no shades to irk his 
 fancy, Said's panic subsided to a holy awe and he slackened 
 his pace. He was very weary, the weight of his wealth seem- 
 ing more than he could bear. The howl of a wakeful dog was 
 wafted to him from the distance. In the quarter whence it 
 came black specks were discernible upon a rising ground. 
 It was an encampment of Bedawin or gipsies, Said supposed, 
 and -instinctively turned his face thitherward. But care for 
 his treasure and the fear of marauders prevented him, and he 
 held straight on. 
 
 There was already a bite of dawn in the air when he came 
 to a large khan, square-built and frowning like a fort, and 
 caught the welcome tinkle and stamp of beasts in a stable. 
 There was a well before the gate, watched by a great sycamore 
 tree. The door was open. Said stole among the beasts in 
 the yard and found a snug nook amid a pile of bales. With 
 a sigh of contentment he curled himself up and fell fast 
 asleep. 
 
 He dreamed. 
 
 It was the last day, or he was newly dead ; he knew not 
 which. He was lying spellbound in a place of tombs. Mustafa 
 lay not far from him with a great stone at his head. Veiled 
 women flitted to and fro like phantoms. He knew without 
 looking that Hasneh was among them, and his soul yearned 
 after her. On either side the stone stood an angel, black and 
 shadowy, with a mace in his hand. There was a balance 
 between them, hanging in the air, and they were weighing 
 the works of Mustafa. All that was good went into the one 
 scale and all that was evil into the other. The faces of the ex- 
 aminers were set and moody, as those of men who watch a 
 grave issue. Ever and anon they beat the old man's head 
 with their maces, so that he shrieked frightfully. Said sweated 
 
 
180 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 cold with fear lest Mustafa should lose Paradise, and also for 
 his own turn, which was to come. 
 
 " This soul is lost, O brother," said one, gravely. " Thy 
 scale kicks the beam, though each deed placed there counts 
 two of what is placed in mine. Allah is just ! " 
 
 The other was thoughtful for a space. All at once his 
 stern face brightened. A glory like moonlight emanated from 
 it, flooding all the plain. 
 
 " See ! " he cried, pointing towards the city. " There is 
 blood — blood of the heathen ! — blood of unbelievers ! — blood 
 of the enemies of our Master ! There is a great pool of it, 
 and it is counted to him for righteousness ! " 
 
 At that Said waxed faint with relief. Hasneh bent over 
 him and peace dropped from her like a precious ointment. 
 The vision faded. There was sweet music of bells — a caravan 
 passing in the distance. With a deep sigh he awoke to a 
 deafening clangour of real camel-bells and the pungent reek 
 of a stable. 
 
 It was quite dark and a little chilly. But the khan was 
 astir, and through the gate he could see a white eye of dawn 
 opening over the edge of the desert. Men with lanterns 
 moved sleepily among the beasts. A group of camels were 
 being laden with black mill-stones, each of which it took four 
 men to lift and hold in position, while a fifth lashed it fast 
 with a strong rope. The task was enlivened by a chant panted 
 in cadence, invoking the help of a holy dervish long since in 
 Paradise. 
 
 Another and more numerous train of camels had just 
 arrived. They were laden with sacks of corn and seemed to 
 have been journeying all night, for the drivers were stiff and 
 surly. With them was a woman of wretched appearance, who 
 stood timidly in the gate, trying to dispose her tattered veil so 
 as to conceal her face. 
 
 A bare-legged hostler threw a coarse jest at her in passing. 
 An idler pinched her arm and tore aside her veil, vowing he 
 was sick for love of her. But a sturdy old man, one of the 
 camel-drivers with whom she had come, interfered He 
 pushed her insulter away roughly, saying that she was a good 
 woman and none should vex her while he was by. 
 
 In the hope of a quarrel, Said stole forward among the 
 beasts and merchandise, careful to lift the sack of his trousers 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 181 
 
 above contact with any of the coils of rope, halters and saddles 
 which cumbered the ground. The other camel-drivers stopped 
 work and gathered about the disputants. But the aggressor 
 was a coward, or he thought the woman not worth a fight, for 
 he slunk off, muttering that he knew not she belonged to any 
 man there. Her champion contented himself with nodding 
 his head after him and explaining pithily, in a long growl, how 
 he would have punished obstinacy. Their forms moved black 
 in the gateway ; beyond them was the grey dawn upon the 
 plain. 
 
 " The woman is thine, O sheykh ? " asked one who stood 
 by with a lantern. 
 
 " No, by Allah ! " answered the champion, with a shade of 
 defiance ; " but I hold her as a dear daughter. When I cut 
 my foot upon a stone in the neighbourhood of Mazarib and 
 thought to die for loss of blood, she used me tenderly and 
 rent her Veil that my wound might be softly bandaged. No, 
 she is not my woman, but was given into my care by the 
 men of Beyt Ammeh beside Nablus. There is a strange 
 story belonging to her." 
 
 At the name of Beyt Ammeh, Said pricked up his ears. 
 Observing the form of the woman narrowly, his heart leapt 
 so that it became a lump in his mroat. 
 
 "The story, O sheykh! Deign to tell us the story!" 
 urged the bystanders. Unnoticed, Said joined the press 
 about the narrator. 
 
 "Know that this woman had a husband, a fisherman, 
 whose name was Said. He set out on a journey to 
 Damashc-ush-Sham, the woman with him. In a lonely pass 
 of the mountains between Beyt Ammeh and the sea he met 
 a man called Farun riding on a camel, asleep. Then Said, 
 being a joker, picked up a stone from the path and flung it 
 at Farun so that he fell to the ground. And as he lay there, 
 stunned and bleeding, Said took all the money that he 
 had and beat him somewhat with a stick, and so left 
 him. 
 
 "Said went on his way rejoicing until he came to the 
 village of Beyt Ammeh. There, his woman being faint, he 
 entered the house of a certain fellah, who took pity on her 
 and let her lie on his own bed. After that, as they sat 
 smoking and conversing, the lord of the house questioned 
 
182 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Said, saying, * Didst meet in thy road hither one riding on 
 a camel ? Behold, my brother, Farun by name, is gone this 
 day to the coast with a load.' Then Said — a clever fellow, by 
 Allah ! — answered thoughtfully, * Yes, it is true ; I met such 
 an one. I found him by the road in a sad plight. His blood 
 was upon the stones of the path. He had been robbed and 
 almost killed by wicked men. I stayed a little to bind his 
 wounds, and gave him money — all that I had. I caught his 
 camel and set him upon it. Then I blessed him and came 
 on hither.' 
 
 11 At that the lord of the house praised and exalted Said 
 above all the sons of Adam. He besought him to abide there 
 several days. But Said, pretending that his brother was dead 
 in Damashc-ush-Sham, said that he must hasten to claim the 
 inheritance. Nevertheless, since his woman was sick, he 
 entreated that kind man to take care of her until she 
 should recover her strength. The lord of the house agreed 
 gladly, and when he had given Said to eat and drink, he 
 blessed him and let him go. He paid great honour to the woman 
 for the sake of the mercy shown by her husband to Farun y 
 his brother. But after two days Farun returned, and then, as 
 you may guess, his mind was changed. All the men of Beyt 
 Ammeh cursed that clever joker who, having first robbed and 
 beaten Farun, had then left his sick woman to the care 
 of Farun's brother. They kept her for two months, making 
 her the common drudge of all, supposing that Said would 
 return or send to fetch her, when they would have slain him 
 or his messengers as the case might be. But he was too 
 clever for that. By Allah, he is a devil ! He had no care 
 for this woman, for it seems she is barren. 
 
 " So at last, weary of her sighs and weeping, they delivered 
 her over to us as we passed through their village, telling us 
 her story and giving us a little money to take her to Es-Sham. 
 They charged us, if ever we should meet with Said the Fisher- 
 man, to slay him without ado for the affront put upon their 
 village. But I admire the rogue. He is a famous joker — - 
 what say you ? . . . By my beard, he is a devil ! " 
 
 In the midst of the laughter at his cleverness, Said pushed 
 through the group and confronted the woman. " Welcome, 
 and thrice welcome, O Hasneh ! " he cried. " Praise be to 
 Allah, thou art alive and in health ! My heart has been very 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 183 
 
 sad for thee all this long time. I am rejoiced to find thee 
 once again, my soul ! 
 
 Throwing up her arms, with a shrill cry, she fell on his 
 neck and wept. 
 
 " It is Said the Fisherman ! •— " Said the Joker ! "— " Said 
 the Devil ! ■ " How came he hither ? " was whispered in tones 
 of awe ; as who should say, It is His Majesty the Sultan — His 
 Excellency the Basha. Men pressed forward to touch but 
 the hem of his robe, to get but a glimpse of his face ; so that 
 Said began to fear lest the fulness and weight of his trousers 
 should be remarked. He saluted the company, and circling 
 Hasneh with his arm, led her out into the brisk air of the 
 dawning. 
 
 At the angle of the wall which looks towards the desert 
 they sat down on their heels side by side. He told of the 
 awful night he had just passed, and she listened, with patient 
 eyes devouring him. 
 
 "lam rich, O my beloved ! ,J he cried, plucking at a dew- 
 drenched thistle. " I will buy a fine house where we shall 
 dwell together. Thou shalt rule over a numerous harlm. I 
 have a sweet girl — a beauty ! — the daughter of a Christian pig 
 who is slain. She shall be thy handmaid to do thy bidding. 
 Let us abide here to-day, for while the tumult continues there 
 is neither buying nor selling in the city. . . ." 
 
 He paused, thoughtful, remembering the burial of 
 Mustafa and his duty to be present. But reflecting that men 
 would suppose him with the slayers, and excuse him for the 
 cause of the Faith, his brow cleared directly and he con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 11 To-morrow, or the next day, we will return thither, when 
 thou shalt help me to choose a grand house, and shalt see the 
 girl Ferideh of whom I spake. She is sweet, I tell thee — a 
 perfect pearl. But thou art mistress of my fancy — that is 
 understood. Now, in the name of Allah relieve me of some 
 part of this treasure which bruises my legs and impedes my 
 going." 
 
 The prospect seemed very bright to Hasneh. She ceased 
 to grieve that her veil was torn. Gladly she opened the 
 bosom of her robe and bestowed the half of their riches in 
 the pouch she wore there. The transfer made, Said rose and 
 took a turn to enjoy his novel lightness. The well and the 
 
184 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 sycamore tree grew rosy, casting long blue shadows. The 
 wide plain was barred and necked with pink. 
 
 " O Said, dost thou remember the fig-tree and our house 
 among the sandhills by the sea ? " murmured Hasneh ; and 
 then, with a blissful sigh, her eyelids closed against the sun's 
 first ray, " Allah is Merciful ! " 
 
 CV13 OP PART 5 
 
NOTES TO PART I 
 
 TIME TABLE 
 
 A.D. 
 
 622 (16th of July). 
 
 1831. 
 1831-1840. 
 
 1840. 
 
 1858. 
 
 i860 (March- April). 
 
 i860 (June). . 
 
 t 860 (June-July). 
 i860 (September). 
 
 Year of tba 
 
 Hejra 
 
 (Lunar). 
 
 The flight of Muhammed the Prophet 
 from Mecca to Medina. . 
 
 Ibrahim Pasha, adopted son of the 
 Khedive Mehemed Ali, conquers 
 Syria. Battle of Konia. . . 1256-7. 
 
 A time of great prosperity for all classes, 
 Christians and Moslems alike, under 
 an enlightened government. . . — 
 
 Syria signed back to the Sultan at Con- 
 ference of London. . . . — 
 
 Bombardment of Jedda by the French 
 as a punishment for the massacre 
 there 1275. 
 
 Said leaves his native town, his house 
 
 and his fig-tree by the seashore. . — 
 
 The Maronites attack the Drfiz and are 
 
 slaughtered all over Lebanon. . 1277. 
 
 Great massacre of Damascus. 
 
 1277. 
 
 Execution of Ahmed Pasha, Waly of 
 Damascus, for culpable incompetence 
 shown during the massacre. . . 1278. 
 185 
 
186 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Chapter xix. — "The House of Islam and the House of War." 
 All the territory successively annexed to the rising of the Ottoman Empire 
 was classed either as forming part of the "dar ul Islam," the house of 
 Islam, or as belonging to the " dar ul harb," or the house of war, according 
 as it was inhabited by Mohammedans or by Christians. In the latter case 
 the new subjects of the Sultan were called "rayahs," and they were 
 personally assessed to ransom their lives, which were forfeited by defeat, 
 and as an equivalent for military service from which they were exempted, 
 or rather, which they did not enjoy the privilege of rendering. This 
 capitation-tax received the name of " haratsh," and its payment entitled 
 each Christian to keep his head on his shoulders for the space of one year. 
 (Skene : Anadol, or the Last Home of the Faithful. ) 
 
 Chapter xix. — "When the first of the sevens," etc. " It was pre- 
 dicted in the beginning of the present century by a much-revered sheikh 
 that when the first of the sevens falls the ruin of Islam will commence, 
 and when the second falls it will have been completed. We are now in 
 the year of the Hegira 1277 ; the year about to open will invert the first 
 of the two Arabic sevens read from right to left — V becoming /\ ; that is, 
 7 becoming 8, and in the year 1280 of the Hegira the second 7 will also 
 be inverted. This prophecy, supported as it is by the reality of the troubles 
 now arising in various quarters, has naturally exercised a great influence on 
 the fatalist tendencies of the Mussulmans and increased their ill-will 
 towards other sects. (Skene : Rambles in Syrian Deserts. ) 
 
 Chapter xxv. — "The garrison was divided into two companies" 
 (Sellm loquitur). Ahmed Pasha sent some troops under the command of 
 two colonels into the streets. They soon applied to him for instructions, 
 under the impossibility of keeping the peace without resorting to violence. 
 He ordered them in writing to fire upon the people. One of the colonels 
 in command of the regulars obeyed his order and dispersed the mob, 
 proving thus that the evil might have been checked. The other colonel, 
 who had charge of the irregulars, was won over by a Mussulman sheikh, 
 who adjured him in the name of the Prophet and their common religion to 
 join them and clear the holy city of Damascus of infidels. He went over 
 to the insurgents with his troops. (Skene, as above. ) For further particulars 
 of the massacre, see Skene, already quoted, Churchill : Druses and 
 Maronites, and Ten Years in Mount Lebanon, and the newspapers of the 
 latter half of i860. 
 
 Chapter xv. — "Jesus the Prophet, whom the faithful call Ruh' 
 Allah." It has been told me for a fact that when the exiled Khedive 
 Ismail Pasha (known to London street-boys of the period as old Ishmel 
 Parker) was at Naples, one of the officers in attendance on him challenged 
 an Italian in a cafi for having dared to insult a Prophet of his (the 
 Egyptian's) religion. The man had been blaspheming, it appeared, as 
 only a Neapolitan or a Tuscan knows how to blaspheme, heaping foul 
 epithets on the name of his Saviour and the Blessed Virgin. A duel, my 
 informant assures me, actually took place on these grounds. 
 
PART II 
 
 THE BOOK OF HIS FATE 
 
 •* O ye men, it is not the great king, nor the multitude of men, neithei 
 b it wine that excelleth ; who is it then that ruleth them, or hath the lord- 
 ship over them ? Are they not women?" — I Esdras. 
 
ABOUT the third hour of a summer's day, Said the 
 merchant strolled lazily in the streets of Damashc-ush- 
 Sham. A bare-legged servant, whose brown heels peeped in 
 and out of a pair of large red slippers, held a sunshade 
 obsequiously over his head. The parasol was white with a 
 green lining. It amounted to a badge of the highest conse- 
 quence, and Said was faint for pride of it. 
 
 More- than ten years of ease and good living had greatly 
 increased his bulk. He had gained that appearance of mixed 
 dignity and benevolence which the habit of a full belly imparts 
 to a man. Many there were who louted low to him in the 
 way ; he acknowledged their presence by the slightest scooping 
 motion of his hand. But a notable of the city riding by upon 
 a grey horse, heralded by an outrunner with cries of " Oah ! " 
 scattering the crowd to right and left, Said was foremost of all 
 to bow his head and touch his lips and brow in token of 
 reverence. 
 
 He entered the shelter of a roofed bazaar and the sunshade 
 was presently put down. The cool shadow, bringing relief 
 from the blinding glare outside, disposed all men to dawdle. 
 Brisk movement, the hoarse cry of impatience and the peevish 
 oath gave way all at once to sighs, murmurs of praise to Allah, 
 and much wiping of faces. Said, however, thanks to the 
 parasol, was not much heated, and he sauntered on leisurely 
 as before. His ample form, richly clad, and his disdainful 
 bearing wrung a salutation even from strangers. Such of the 
 bystanders as knew his quality blessed him loudly by name. 
 And he said in his heart, — 
 
 " Can it be that I was once Said the fisherman — a thing 
 despised for all men to spit upon ? Now behold, I am Said 
 the merchant, in the height of prosperity and honour, so that 
 they bow low before me in the market, and even men of family 
 
 191 
 
192 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 deem it no dishonour to kiss my hand. Surely I am great and 
 glorious, and my wealth is established upon a sure foundation. 
 Allah is great and bountiful, and I, His servant, am much 
 indebted to Him." 
 
 The next minute he made a rapid sign with his hand and 
 he muttered a formula reputed potent, lest that jealous eye 
 which is ever fixed upon the heart of man should mark his 
 boastfulness and lay a snare for him. 
 
 The bare-legged servant, very proud of a new tarbush he 
 was wearing for the first time, now walked a few steps in 
 advance of his master to clear the way. The shadow was inky 
 upon the crowd. Motes danced golden in a bar of light where 
 a rift in the barn-like roof let in a sunbeam. The divers hues 
 of the multitude, and the rich array of stuffs displayed in the 
 doorways on either hand, were cool and restful as reflections 
 in water. 
 
 Striking into another bazaar which ran at right angles to 
 that he had hitherto threaded, Said turned in at a low doorway 
 of humble seeming, bidding the servant await him there. He 
 traversed a narrow passage and, crossing a filthy court in 
 sunlight, mounted some worn stone steps. At the top of the 
 flight was a crazy door. He knocked, crying, — 
 
 " Open, O Selim ! It is I, the master ! Make haste, lazy 
 one ! Know that I am busy to-day and have little time to 
 spare ! " 
 
 The sound of the voice had not died away ere the doo* 
 swung inward with a great creaking, and Selim appeared in the 
 entrance. He pounced on Said's hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Welcome, O my master ! " he exclaimed, as he made fast 
 the door behind his patron. "It was in this minute that I 
 wished to speak with thee concerning certain carpets of thine 
 which have arrived with the caravan of Ali Effendi and now 
 lie at the great khan awaiting thy orders. Is it thy wish that I 
 go there after noon ? . . . How is the health of thy son., 
 Suleyman ? Mayst thou be blest in him ! " 
 
 Said sat down cross-legged upon the raised platform of 
 stone which formed a kind of dais at one end of the room. 
 With a look of concentration he began to roll a cigarette, 
 leaving Selim's questions unanswered for a minute. The 
 delicate tracery of the lattice at his back sifted and subdued 
 the light while admitting what breeze there was. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 193 
 
 It was pleasant to lounge there, in the place of honour of 
 the large, cool room, and let his eye range over the piles of 
 rich carpets, roll upon roll, which almost concealed the walls. 
 It was pleasant, sitting thus, to inhale the smoke of a cigarette, 
 or, better still, of a narghileh. The whole of his life passed 
 before him at such times, like a tale of the Thousand and One 
 Nights. But for evidence of the piles of carpets, and the 
 presence of Selim, moving to and fro among them, he would 
 sometimes have doubted the truth of it all, so marvellous it 
 seemed. It was pleasant to recall the old life with Hasneh 
 in the little house among the sandhills by the seashore, to 
 curse again the treachery of Abdullah, to review his wanderings 
 and all the wondrous chances of the great slaughter. Even 
 the weeks of terror which followed those days of bloodshed, 
 when the Saving Faith seemed humbled for ever and the 
 power of the infidels was paramount in the land, were sweet in 
 the memory. He looked back to them as to a dream of delights, 
 for they had passed, dream-like, in the first, full rapture of 
 possession after long months of yearning. Engrossed by bliss, 
 dazed with a delicious languor of soul and body, he had heard 
 talk of executions, of shooting and hanging of true believers, 
 only as one hears whose ears are stuffed with wool. Sad 
 tidings had reached him in the little pleasure house he had 
 hired among the gardens at the foot of the great brown hills. 
 One day Hasneh had returned from her marketing, half dead 
 for horror, with the news that Ahmed Pasha had been led out 
 and shot that morning. In the space of a week or two, more 
 than three hundred of the faithful were hanged, so that the 
 Sultan's envoy, who introduced and, as some said, invented 
 that shameful and unclean way of death, was named of all men 
 Father of a Rope. There were accounts of a French army in 
 Mount Lebanon, slaying every Druze they met, were it man, 
 woman or child. It was said they had sworn to wipe out the 
 Druzes utterly from the face of the earth, because they had 
 dared to be victorious over the Maronites, who were reckoned 
 as French subjects for the nonce. But Said, though cursing 
 the French and all unbelievers by rote, had, in fact, felt but 
 little concern for the calamities of his neighbours. The death 
 of Ahmed Pasha had been of direct benefit to him, for it set 
 Selim free to be his agent in those commercial enterprises on 
 which he soon began to employ his capital. 
 N 
 
194 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Ferideh, tamed at last, and submissive to his pleasure, 
 Hasneh re-found and willing to wait upon him hand and foot, 
 his treasure bestowed in a safe place ; he had been feverishly 
 happy throughout that time of trouble and disgrace. The true 
 Faith was sure to triumph in the end. Meanwhile he had not 
 neglected to pray to Allah five times a day, had eaten no pork, 
 and had been careful to avoid handling any unclean thing. 
 
 From the height of wealth and honour to which his native 
 shrewdness, under Allah, and a run of the rarest good luck 
 had conspired to raise him, he could con over his life with 
 some of that enjoyment a traveller knows in recounting hard- 
 ships past. For a long while he sat musing with a far-away 
 look in his eyes — a look having no concern with the pile of 
 Meccan prayer-mats on which he seemed intent. The smoke 
 of his cigarette curled lazily upward in the tempered gloom. 
 A little cloud of flies hung buzzing over his head. At length, 
 the silence growing irksome, Selim hazarded, — 
 
 "How is thy health, O Said?" 
 
 " Praise be to Allah ! And thy health ? " was the mechanical 
 reply. Then, starting from his brown study and brushing the 
 flies from his face, — 
 
 " We have a fine store of carpets, O father of Musa — none 
 like it in all the city. For how much, thinkest thou, could we 
 sell all that is now on our hands ? w 
 
 Selim stroked his beard and his forehead puckered 
 thoughtfully. After some inward reckoning he named a 
 large sum of money as a fair estimate. Said's face grew 
 rapturous. 
 
 "Now listen, O Sehm," he said, bending towards his 
 henchman and speaking in low, eager tones. "It is in 
 my mind to buy the house of Mahmud Effendi — thou 
 knowest it ? — which is towards the Jewish quarter. He asks 
 a vast sum for it — a fortune, by Allah ! But it is known that 
 he needs money, that his creditors harass him for payment. 
 Wait a little, and he will be glad to accept much less. Never- 
 theless, it is a fine house and a costly; the price of it will 
 amount to more than I have in my hand. I am minded to sell 
 all these carpets and to part with this upper room. In time 
 to come it shall he said of Suleyman : his father is a great 
 Effendi, who dwells in a palace. 
 
 "Now, O my brother, I know thee for a wise man whose 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 195 
 
 advice it is good to take ; and thou wast ever careful for my 
 welfare. Counsel me, I pray thee, and tell me what comes 
 to thy mind on this matter." 
 
 Selim stared aghast at his employer. Dismay made his 
 eyeballs dilate and his jaw drop. 
 
 "To hear is to obey," he faltered at length. "It is for 
 thee to order and dispose of what is thine. I am but thy 
 servant to hear and bow my head. Nevertheless, O Said, 
 O my brother, O father of kindness, what is it that thou 
 purposest ? To sell a thriving business like this, which yields 
 more and more profit with each year, were the dream of a 
 madman ! And why dost thou so covet the house of 
 Mahmud ? I fear an evil spirit prompts thee in this matter, 
 seeking to engulf thy fortune. Hast thou not already a fine 
 house enough — one well becoming the lord of thy wealth? 
 Hast thou not a beautiful woman for wife, one who is mistress 
 of thy fancy, who has already borne a son to inherit thy 
 honour? Hast thou not also another wife who loves thee, 
 and maidens to wait on thy harlm? Hast thou not two 
 men-servants and a doorkeeper, without counting Selim and 
 all his father's house, who are ever ready to do thy behests? 
 Sure, if ever man was happy, thou art happy; if ever Allah 
 favoured any man, he has favoured thee. The higher a person 
 rises, the closer do envy and ill-will and hatred beset him on 
 every side. The more conspicuous he becomes, the more he 
 has need of money. Hear a story, O my brother. 
 
 " Know that there was once a man who owned a she-camel, 
 which fed him with her milk and earned money for him by 
 her labour. But the man was not content. Going one day 
 to the city he beheld in the shop of a certain merchant a 
 collar of gold. And he said in his soul, 'O my soul, if I 
 had but that collar I should certainly be happiest of all the 
 sons of Adam.' The thought of it robbed him of sleep by 
 night, and in the daytime it was ever present to his mind. At 
 last he bethought him of the camel, and he said in his heart, 
 ' A collar of gold for a camel is a famous bargain. Every poor 
 fellah has a camel belonging to him, but only the greatest 
 wear collars of gold.' 
 
 " On the morrow he arose and drove his beast to the city, 
 and there sold her, together with the packsaddle and the 
 halter, a bag of corn and a vessel of oil which happened to be 
 
196 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 with him in the house. Then he went straight to the 
 merchant's, and, having assured himself that the collar was 
 there, he inquired the price. At first the trader laughed and 
 eyed him askance, for the poorness of his clothes. But after- 
 wards, finding that he had money with him, he deigned to 
 name a sum. It was more than the man could pay; yet, 
 being an astute fellow and good at a bargain, he at length 
 obtained the collar. 
 
 "With it clasped round his neck he strutted about the 
 streets, deeming himself an Emir. It was not for a long 
 while he became aware that men were pointing after him and 
 laughing in their beards. Then shame came upon him, and 
 he wished to hide the ornament ; but he could not, it was so 
 big and his robe so scanty and ragged. He tried to unclasp 
 it, but he knew not the trick of it, the merchant having made 
 it fast for him. He sped to the shop, wishing to give it back 
 and receive his money again; but the merchant drove him 
 away with curses and threatening words. He dared not have 
 recourse to any worker in metal lest the price of his release 
 should be more than he could afford, and, in default of pay- 
 ment, the collar should be taken from him. 
 
 " By the time he had eaten and drunk and had paid his 
 lodging for one night, he had no money left. On the third 
 day he was driven to beg in the gate of the city. But those 
 who passed in and out mocked him, thinking he was a joker 
 or one that begged for a wager or a vow. And this became a 
 proverb in the land : The beggar with the collar of gold craves 
 a mite of thee, O muleteer. 
 
 " Full of distress he prayed Allah, if it might be, to take 
 away that plague from him and give him back his camel. 
 Soon he prayed more earnestly that Allah would cut off his 
 life. His prayer was heard ; for certain wicked men of the 
 city had cast greedy eyes upon the collar. They lay in wait 
 for him in a lonely place, and there slew him. But being 
 powerless to unclasp the collar, they cut off his head and 
 drew it from the neck still fastened. 
 
 "Now, O my brother, the drift of my story is clear and 
 needs no explaining. I think it no wise thing to sell all thy 
 stock-in-trade that thou mayest buy a fine palace. Remember 
 that he who bartered the camel for the collar of gold had 
 shame and misery and a ghastly death into the bargain." 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 197 
 
 During the tale Said's face had become overcast. As 
 Sellm ceased speaking his displeasure broke out. Frowning, 
 and with a peevish gesture, — 
 
 "Thou speakest folly and thy words are far from the 
 purpose ! " he cried. " What have I got to do with thy poor 
 man and his camel ? Behold, I am rich, as thou well knowest. 
 Even when I shall have paid the price of the house there 
 will yet be money left in my hand wherewith to trade anew. 
 Because I speak of selling this shop and these carpets, thou 
 art afraid of thy own meat and drink, lest thy livelihood be 
 taken from thee. Thou makest believe to rede me a friendly 
 counsel, whereas thy mind is wholly set upon thy private 
 advantage. I had thought to make thee a handsome present 
 — enough to keep thee in comfort and honour all thy days ; 
 but now, since thou choosest to cross me, I know not what I 
 shall do." 
 
 Stung by the accusation of self-seeking, Sellm bounded to 
 his feet. 
 
 " Now, Allah pardon thee, O Said," he exclaimed in a low 
 voice broken by emotion. "Surely thou art possessed with a 
 devil to think this evil of me ! In all the years that I have 
 served thee in this place, hast thou ever found me wanting in 
 my duty? Have I not ever loved thee as a dear brother, 
 while serving thee faithfully as my lord? Hast thou ever 
 known me to seek my own advantage to thy prejudice in the 
 price of a single prayer-mat ? Do I not bring up my children 
 to bless thee as their father's benefactor ? . . . These words 
 which thou hast spoken wound my inmost heart. Behold, am 
 I not thy thing, to take up or to cast aside ? If I likened thee 
 by chance to a poor fellah, who had but one camel, Allah be 
 my witness, it was because I knew no other story to meet thy 
 case. Fables ever deal in extremes ; I meant thee no insult, 
 as thou knowest well. I did but give thee the best advice 
 that I had out of the little store of wisdom which is mine. O 
 Said — O my dear! I have loved thee with a great affection 
 ever since the day thou didst hire me to be thy servant, and 
 didst give me that rich garment — the root of my honour — 
 which I still cherish in my house. That is long ago, when 
 Musa, my first-born, was yet at his mother's breast. Now 
 Musa is almost a man to wear the turban, yet I love thee with 
 the same love still. It will grieve me to forsake this upper 
 
198 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 chamber, where I have sat cool through the heat of many a 
 day ; while the bees and the flies and the wasps made a drowsy 
 moaning, and the voice of the water-carrier came to me out of 
 the street like a wild bird's cry. It is natural, is it not ? that 
 I should grieve somewhat at thought of leaving a place where 
 I have spent many years in peace of mind and body. And 
 the little room adjoining, where all my children save Musa 
 have been born, is dear to me for the cries of the young ones 
 and the voice of the anxious mother crooning soft to them. 
 But thou gavest, and it is thine to take away. O Said, O my 
 brother, seek not to quarrel with me after all these years ! " 
 
 The pathos of this appeal touched some answering chord 
 of the merchant's heart, for the lines of his face softened and 
 his eyes filled with tears. At last, when Senm had made an 
 end of speaking, and stood gazing at him with eyes full of 
 entreaty, Said started up and, going over to him, fell on his 
 neck. Surely an evil spirit had prompted him to doubt for a 
 minute the good faith of his more than brother. He asked 
 forgiveness of the harsh words uttered in haste. But he had 
 set his heart on purchasing the house of Mahmud EfTendi, 
 and the unlooked-for dissension had angered him. 
 
 Deeply moved by his patron's tears, Selim gave way com- 
 pletely ; vowing to be faithful to him in all things, whatever 
 he should require. He called Allah to witness that he had 
 not meant to oppose Said's will, but only to help him with 
 advice, that nothing might be done rashly or without due con- 
 sideration. 
 
 11 What is the hour ? " asked Said at length, with a startled 
 glance at the tracery of light and shadow thrown from the 
 lattice upon wall and floor. 
 
 "It is between the fourth and the fifth, O my master," 
 Sellm pronounced, after reference to the same dial. " With 
 thy leave, I will call for coffee, if, indeed, thou must depart so 
 soon." At his shout of " Musa ! " a sturdy boy, clad in a robe 
 of striped cotton, close buttoned at the neck, and having for 
 head-dress an ancient and weather-beaten fez, appeared from 
 an inner room. The shrill tones of a woman scolding and 
 the piteous howl of an infant came through the same door 
 with him, out of the gloom on which he stood revealed. 
 
 " O Musa, bring coffee and that quickly, for our master 
 has little time ! " said Sellm. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 199 
 
 The two elders took counsel together how to dispose of 
 shop and merchandise to the best advantage. There were 
 debts of long standing to be collected, or, where the debtor 
 was too great and powerful, to be forgiven with as much cir- 
 cumstance as possible. Sellm undertook all the more tiresome 
 business of the settlement, leaving for his master that lighter 
 part which could be transacted over a glass of sherbet and a 
 narghileh. Said thanked him, as for a matter of course, and 
 heartily cursed the buzzing swarm of flies which infested the 
 room. Then, when he had swallowed a cupful of coffee, he 
 arose and set out for the house of Mahmud Effendi. 
 
 He thought of the joy Ferideh would have in that palace, 
 and his heart beat faster ; for, after more than ten years of 
 possession, he still doted on the daughter of Yuhanna. 
 
II 
 
 MAHMUD EFFENDI sat in the audience-hall of his 
 great house, in the highest seat. Door and windows 
 open on the court showed a vine-covered trellis, a few orange 
 trees grouped about a marble basin, and the opposite wall of 
 the quadrangle in dazzling sunshine. Draughts of lukewarm 
 air brought the pleasant sound of leaves rustling and water 
 trickling to freshen the deep shade of the room, which would 
 else have been gloomy and oppressive. 
 
 Mahmud Effendi was a man of thirty summers, unhealthily 
 white and fat, with dark creases under his eyes. He wore a 
 long morning robe of striped silk, a high fez and a finely- 
 embroidered turban ; but a pair of Frankish boots of patent 
 leather were most obvious as he lolled in the cushioned seat of 
 honour. As a member of the council of notables, and one 
 who had spent a year at Instanbul to complete his education, 
 he usually donned the Turkish frock-coat and dark trousers on 
 state occasions. It was told of him that he could sit on a 
 chair stiffly, like a Frank, for minutes together without a 
 symptom of uneasiness, could wield a knife and fork cunningly 
 and speak with the tongue of unbelief. But in the freedom 
 of his own dwelling, with his kinsfolk and servants obsequious 
 about him, he was the true Arab grandee, scornful and un- 
 mannerly. 
 
 On the morning in question the couches of the presence- 
 chamber were well filled. On the dais reclined a number of 
 the great man's relatives and cronies, grouped in order of their 
 rank ; while the body of the hall was sprinkled with the men 
 of the household and other dependants, together with sundry 
 persons who presented themselves every morning with praise- 
 worthy constancy, for no other purpose than to make their 
 names and faces familiar to one in authority. 
 
 The walls of the room were a mosaic-work of marble of 
 200 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 201 
 
 different colours, the words of the Fatiha, or opening chapter 
 of the Coran, running all round under the ceiling by way of 
 frieze. At all points the name of Allah met the eye, cunningly 
 obscured and twisted into puzzling monograms ; and further 
 veiled by such epithets as the Merciful, the Praiseworthy, the 
 Powerful, and so forth. The pavement, too, was of mosaic, 
 where it could be seen for rugs. A wide stone bench or divan, 
 which ran along the foot of the walls, was cushioned upon the 
 dais, bare elsewhere. Before the lord of the house, on a soft 
 carpet from Persia, stood a stool, or little table of dark-stained 
 wood inlaid upon the top and sides with arabesque patterns of 
 mother-of-pearl. It bore an inkstand, a reed pen, and a bulky 
 scroll of parchment covered with close writing in a clerkly 
 hand. 
 
 Mahmud Effendi was restless and spoke little. No sooner 
 was one cigarette lighted for him by an attentive neighbour 
 than he flung it away, with an oath of impatience, and began 
 to roll another. Conversation in the room was carried on 
 by low whispers, and eyes kept straying anxiously to the 
 door. 
 
 "This man — what is his name? — this Said is late!" ex- 
 claimed the great one, fretfully, with a yawn. " Is it meet, 
 I ask you, that my father's son should be kept waiting by the 
 child of a dog ? " 
 
 " It is true ! He is late ; curse his religion ! May the 
 fire, the mother of hospitality, be quenched on his hearth, and 
 his father's grave be perfectly defiled ! " Glad of the 
 chance to lift up their voices, all present cursed the tardy one 
 most heartily. 
 
 It was but yesterday that Nasr, the son of his mother's 
 sister, had come to Mahmud with news that a certain 
 merchant, reputed lord of boundless wealth, was minded 
 to buy the palace at any price. The man, whose name was 
 Said, would present himself, said the informant, betimes on 
 the morrow. Nasr spent most of his life in the taverns of 
 the city. He was a famous gossip and no mean liar. But in 
 this case Mahmud, in sore straits for money, had gladly 
 believed his tidings and had summoned all the heads of 
 his kindred to support him at the interview. Now, seeing 
 that the morning was fast wearing away and no one came, 
 he began to have an inkling that his cousin had lied to him, 
 
202 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 knowing his instant need to sell the house and wishing to 
 please him and gain honour for himself by bringing agreeable 
 news. He bent ominous brows on the unconscious Nasr, 
 who sat fourth removed from him on the seat of honour; 
 and was on the point of upbraiding him fiercely with the 
 deceit, when a murmur of satisfaction, first raised by a group 
 of servants at the door, spread throughout the assembly. A 
 man's voice was heard at the gate, crying, — 
 
 " Peace be upon this house, and the mercy of Allah, and 
 His blessings ! " 
 
 Mahmud Effendi straightened himself in his seat. The 
 elders upon the dais composed their limbs and faces on 
 decorous lines. The menials in the body of the hall fell 
 bowing into two rows, forming a lane for the passage of the 
 newcomer. 
 
 Having slipped oft" his shoes at the threshold, Said the 
 merchant entered the presence-chamber with a mien of the 
 utmost deference. His servant followed bearing the white 
 parasol with the green lining, as it had been a rod of office. 
 Leaving his bodyguard among the folk of the household, Said 
 advanced to the dais. All the great ones who sat there arose 
 at his approach, and his humble salutation was returned 
 twenty-fold. Mahmud Effendi came a little way to meet him, 
 and, after the brief and languid struggle enjoined by polite- 
 ness, yielded his hand to be kissed. Then he led the guest 
 to a vacant seat on his right, and called loudly for refresh- 
 ments. With his own hand he made a cigarette for Said, and 
 insisted on lighting it for him with a match borrowed from 
 the uncle who sat on his left. Then he renewed inquiries 
 concerning the visitor's health, scanning his face earnestly for 
 any sign of disorder; while all the rest of the company 
 put the same or like questions after him in chorus. 
 
 Quite overwhelmed by the honour paid to him, Said 
 could only bow repeatedly, murmuring blessings upon his 
 host and all belonging to him. But when two serving-men 
 drew near barefooted, each carrying a large and curiously- 
 wrought brass tray laden with glasses of several kinds of 
 sherbet, Mahmud's attention was called away for a minute 
 and he found time to regain composure. 
 
 He glanced craftily round upon that numerous gathering, 
 whose presence there, he shrewdly guessed, was planned to 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 203 
 
 abash and outface him. But the mental resolve to prove 
 a match for them all found no expression in face or 
 attitude. 
 
 At length, when all the empty glasses were replaced on 
 the trays and the servants had retired with them, a silence 
 ensued which Said deemed favourable for the opening of 
 bis business. With a cringing twist of his body, he begged 
 the ear of Mahmud Effendi, who gave heed to him with the 
 gravest condescension. 
 
 It was noised abroad in the markets. — The common people 
 are all gossips, scandalmongers, by Allah ! and publishers of 
 every silly rumour. — It was noised abroad that his Excellency 
 was desirous of selling that great palace, where he had the 
 honour to behold his Eminence in the extremity of welfare 
 and good health. The report — which was of course an idle 
 one, unworthy the credence of a man of sense — had at length 
 reached the ears of his Honour's devoted servant. Though 
 at once perceiving it to be a foolish fable, such as low people, 
 muleteers and others who frequent the bazaars, spread abroad 
 for love of mischief; yet it had so far carried weight with 
 him that, being at present in search of a fine house and 
 having by the blessing of Allah some little wealth at his disposal, 
 he had allowed his mind to dwell on the thought of this great 
 palace, to desire it. He had therefore ventured to wait upon 
 his Grace, in order to make sure that the report that he had 
 heard was groundless, and, in case there should be a measure 
 of truth in it, to inquire what price his Worship was pleased 
 to demand. He was aware that it ill became him, a small 
 man and of no account in the city, thus to thrust himself 
 forward in the presence of his Highness and of his Highness's 
 illustrious kindred there assembled. To aspire to possess 
 ihat fine house were the last presumption in one of his mean 
 quality. As for the notion of supplanting, or in any sense 
 replacing, his Excellency, it was far from his mind. Can the 
 fox claim fellowship with the lion ? And yet it is no sin if 
 the fox come to dwell in the lion's den, after the noble beast 
 has forsaken it, needing change ; provided he do so meekly, 
 with a proper sense of his own unworthiness, giving praise 
 and thanks at all times to Allah for his great good 
 fortune. 
 
 He (Said) was a merchant, whose business, by the grace 
 
204 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 of Allah, had thriven with him; and, whereas a great one 
 of the city, having much property but little ready money, 
 would pay the price hardly and by many instalments, he 
 was prepared to bring the whole sum at once in his hands and 
 place it in the hands of his Excellency. A small sum paid 
 down in its entirety was worth more than the promise of great 
 riches. Wherefore — his voice became a coaxing whine and 
 his smile waxed eloquent of deprecation — wherefore he had 
 dared hope that his Highness would deign to abate some- 
 thing of the price in his favour ; if he were indeed minded to 
 sell the house, which was most unlikely. Might Allah 
 preserve his Excellency's life for ever, and increase the goods 
 of his Excellency to the crowning point of prosperity. 
 
 Mahmud Effendi listened to all this long speech with 
 courteous attention, as did all who sat upon the dais, taking 
 their cue from him. Having heard Said patiently to an end, 
 he raised a hand to his beard and stared round upon the faces 
 of his kindred with the dazed look of a man taken quite by 
 surprise. After a pause long enough to fully impress the 
 visitor with a sense of his amazement, he spoke slowly and 
 falteringly, as one striving to muster his wits. 
 
 " Allah pardon ! It was a false report thou heardest, O 
 my uncle. Men are wont to speak idly in the markets, and 
 their tongues wag ever most glibly of those who sit in high 
 places. I marvel only that a man of thy penetration should 
 have paid any heed to their talk. The wish to sell my house 
 is very far from me ; nay, it was but in this hour I was taking 
 counsel with the heads of my father's house about a plan for 
 adorning the women's apartments with a screen of Cairene 
 lattice-work, and to inlay the walls of the court with devices of 
 marble. Ai the moment of thy entering I was reading in that 
 scripture thou seest upon the table, which is an exact account 
 of all that the house contains and the value of it. If thou 
 doubtest the truth of what I say, inquire of any man here, 
 and he shall certify thee. 
 
 "By my beard, I am amazed at thy speech, for to sell this 
 house, which belonged to my father and my father's father 
 before me, was never further from my thoughts than it is to- 
 day. 
 
 " And yet . . . now that thou hast put it in my mind, I 
 know not that I should altogether refuse to sell, were one to 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 205 
 
 make me a tempting offer. As thou sayest, a large sum in the 
 hand is better than the like sum paid in slow instalments. 
 Moreover, a man like me has many liabilities to which one of 
 thy condition is not subject. Thou receivest money every 
 day, and thy wealth is with thee in the house ; whereas the 
 fortune I inherit is vested in lands and houses, which cannot 
 be moved, and which it is tiresome to sell ; and withal I must 
 always be spending. Thou art eloquent, O my uncle, and thy 
 talk sways my mind a little. Having no instant need of 
 money, nor indeed any enduring wish to sell at all, I shall not 
 certainly part with this fine house for less than its utmost 
 value. Nevertheless, since the whim is upon me, I am curious 
 to know what price thou wouldst offer ! " 
 
 He did not wait for Said's answer, but very carelessly 
 shouted an order for coffee to be served at once. 
 
 All his kindred raised hands and eyes ceilingwards, calling 
 Allah to witness their astonishment at what they had just 
 heard. Mahmud Effendi to think of selling his house ! 
 Surely the great man spoke in jest ! If he were indeed 
 serious, then the sun might shortly be expected to rise in the 
 west ! They murmured together in amazement and concern. 
 
 Said, with eyes fixed upon one of his host's Frankish boots, 
 appeared lost in reflection. At length he faltered, — 
 
 "Omy lord, know that I am a small man, wholly unworthy 
 to compete with thee in any way. Who am I that I should 
 presume to set a price on that which belongs to thy Highness ? 
 Deign to name such a sum as thou deemest just, and I, thy 
 servant, will say whether I can afford to pay it. I am a small 
 man and my wealth is limited. Notwithstanding, having a 
 great regard for thy Grace, I shall endeavour by all means to 
 content thee." 
 
 "Truly thou askest no easy thing of me," muttered Mah- 
 mud, with puckered forehead. "It is hard to compute the 
 price of that which has never been sold nor valued for sale. 
 If I were really earnest in this matter, I should say, Bring 
 valuers, one for thee and one for me. Let them go over all 
 the premises and make each his estimate. But, as it is, wish- 
 ing only to know what thou wouldst give, I know not what to 
 say. I would rather that some other gave an opinion in my 
 stead, lest thou shouldst say, Of course, he extols that which 
 is his own. Now behold, there are many honourable persons 
 
206 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 here present, who know the house perfectly and all it contains. 
 If it please thee, let them confer together and we will abide by 
 their judgment." 
 
 But Said put in humbly, — 
 
 " Nay, O my lord, I cannot engage to pay whatever price 
 the arbiters may lay upon me. My wealth, alas ! has limits. 
 Allah keep thy Grace ever in safety ; that which I ask of thee 
 is only reasonable." 
 
 " Of course, it shall be as thou choosest," said Mahmud, 
 carelessly. 
 
 While the coffee was being passed round, the umpires 
 spoke 'earnestly together in low tones, now glancing at Said, 
 now at their kinsman, with manifest impartiality. At last they 
 resumed their seats and their former languid postures. An 
 aged man, uncle to Mahmud on the father's side, had been 
 chosen spokesman. He now rose to make known the verdict. 
 
 The sum he named made Said wince, though he was pre- 
 pared for almost any extravagance. Mahmud himself could 
 not refrain from throwing an admiring glance round upon his 
 relations. The merchant smiled painfully and stroked his 
 beard. 
 
 "Well, what sayest thou, O my uncle?" said Mahmud, in 
 a voice of encouragement. " Remember, thou hast not yet 
 seen all the house, and this is not the only fine room in it. 
 Observe the walls a little, I pray thee, what excellent work- 
 manship is there ! By the Coran, I think it a low estimate. 
 What sayest thou ? " 
 
 Said, though secretly gnawing his underlip, made shift to 
 smile. Shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands wide 
 in deprecation. 
 
 " The price exceeds my fortune," he murmured. " I cannot 
 bid more than a third of it." 
 
 " Never ! " cried Mahmud, in extreme disgust, fending off 
 the insulting offer with his hand. "Never!" cried all his 
 kindred in chorus, eyeing Said as though he had done every 
 one of them a mortal injury. 
 
 A long and chilly pause ensued, until Mahmud, having 
 managed to bring his outraged feelings into subjection, 
 renewed his inquiries after the visitor's health in the cause of 
 hospitality. But there was a- marked change in his manner, 
 and Said, perceiving that he was no longer welcome, made 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 207 
 
 haste to depart. The lofty courtesy of his company had 
 daunted him during the whole interview. That sudden change 
 from the sunshine of condescension to the frost of contempt 
 sent him forth bewildered into the scorching street. But ere 
 he had made many paces from the outer gate he was again 
 master of his wits. 
 
 Walking in the shade of the white parasol with the green 
 lining, he reviewed the whole scene with a chuckle. With 
 patience, he felt sure of getting the house at very nearly his 
 own price. He had made a not unreasonable offer. In a very 
 few days, he foresaw, Mahmud would summon him once more 
 to his presence ; and then the haggling would begin in earnest. 
 It might last a month, it might last a year. All depended on 
 the temper of the great man's creditors. In any case, he felt 
 sure of his bargain in the end ; and the memory of that 
 splendid presence-chamber made his brain swim with ambi- 
 tion. 
 
Ill 
 
 THE house of Said the merchant was so set in the heart of 
 the city that for strangers and country people, who had 
 not the clue to the labyrinth, it was a day's work to find it. 
 The approach from the nearest bazaar was by an archway 
 infested with dogs and beggars, down a winding lane, and 
 through a gate in the wall. Even after the gate was passed, 
 callers were forced to ask their way, for one passage gave 
 access to three several dwellings, and who, uninspired, could 
 tell which door to choose? As one stood on its roof and 
 looked out over the town, it seemed an easy feat to scramble 
 thence to the minaret of Isa, half a mile distant, without once 
 descending to the level of the streets. You would have deemed 
 Es-Sham hewn of a single stone, so hard it was to mark where 
 one building ended and another began. It was on the house- 
 top that Said was wont to say his prayers at nightfall, and 
 often in the daytime, with face turned duly southward towards 
 the kibleh. Often, too, he would cause a servant to bring an 
 ewer of water to him upon the roof, and there, in sight of the 
 many who sought refreshment in the evening air, he would 
 perform the lesser washings of preparation, without which no 
 prayer of man is acceptable to Allah. 
 
 He had a very large and precious copy of the Coran, so 
 exquisitely written that each word was a monogram for a 
 learned scribe to decipher; for Said it was quite illegible. 
 This manuscript, bound in finely-chased leather, was carried 
 every Friday by a servant to the mosque, together with a 
 cushion. It was a small place of worship frequented by poor 
 people, to whom a merchant was a great man. As soon as 
 Said was comfortably seated on the cushion, the volume was 
 placed in his hands. Opening it at random, he would recite 
 
 208 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 209 
 
 some passage which he knew by heart, in a very loud, nasal 
 voice, and to the edification of all who sat there on the bare 
 stones, waiting for the coming of the preacher. 
 
 He was known to give alms of all his substance, and it was 
 understood he would make the pilgrimage as soon as ever his 
 house and business could be set in order. No wonder that he 
 was reckoned a holy man, esteemed and reverenced of all his 
 neighbours ; the roof of his house being high and conspicuous, 
 and little of his devotions done in private. 
 
 His abode consisted of a small square court, elaborately 
 paved ; three sides of which were taken up by the living rooms 
 and offices, the fourth being filled by a blind wall of the next 
 house, in which was the entrance door. The court was no 
 larger than a large chamber, and the house was small to match 
 it, but convenient and more roomy than it promised to be. 
 Hard by the entrance was a little chamber with a vaulted 
 ceiling, where the doorkeeper lived, and facing it, across the 
 court, yawned the doorway of a large cellar or storehouse beneath 
 the women's apartments, where cooking and other work of the 
 household was done. 
 
 It was in this place that Hasneh sat on a morning, grinding 
 with one of her maidens at the handmill ; while another who, 
 being high in favour with Ferideh, thought herself entitled to 
 do as she pleased, sat idly looking on, burying her hand in a 
 sackful of wheat, and letting the grains glide through her 
 fingers. The sound of grinding was loud in room and court- 
 yard, relieved by the voices of the women chanting shrilly at 
 their task. Now and then one would cease singing and let go 
 the handle, to draw her veil closer as a protection from the 
 flies ; only to burst out afresh in song, and fall again to the 
 turning with renewed strength. 
 
 Out in the sunshine, the doorkeeper, a burly negro, could 
 be seen dozing with head against the wall. The heat and the 
 glare, abhorred of others, were dear to him. He basked in 
 them languorously, with closed eyes, stretching himself like a 
 cat and showing his white teeth. 
 
 " Our lord is late to-day," said Hasneh, excitedly, pausing 
 to push back a fold of her robe which was in the way. " Allah 
 grant no ill has befallen him. I have to speak with him when 
 he returns." 
 
 "Thou hast to speak with him, sayest thou?" said the 
 
 O 
 
210 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 maid who sat idle, in languid amazement. " Is it thy errand, 
 pray, or another's ? " 
 
 " There is a word from Nur, the old woman, and something 
 I must add to it of my own knowledge." 
 
 " It is plain thou hast little understanding, O mother of 
 nothing ! " said the girl, jeeringly. " Our lord holds thee of 
 no more account than an old sandal, and the words of thy 
 mouth are as the voice of a fly in his ears. If Nur desired a 
 hearing for her message, she would surely have addressed 
 herself to the lady Ferideh, or to me, that am her handmaid. 
 This errand of which thou boastest is some slight message of 
 compliment such as men bandy in the streets and count not. 
 Or it may be " — the girl tittered — " thou hast something of 
 moment to tell concerning thyself. Nur is reputed skilful in 
 such matters. How is thy health, O honoured lady? Say, 
 art thou once more with child, O mother of a thousand ? " 
 
 Hasneh let go the handle of the mill and sprang to her 
 feet. Ever since Ferideh had borne a son her life had been 
 full of bitterness. Never a day passed without some cruel jest 
 at her expense. The child she would have loved for his 
 father's sake was trained by his mother to strike her and spit 
 at her. From the time he first began to lisp, Suleyman had 
 been taught to call her Childless Mother, Mother of Wind, and 
 a host of other unkind names ; and the maidens, apeing their 
 mistress, were for ever nettling her with the like taunts. 
 Anger, as she had learnt by long experience, only gave point 
 to their amusement ; and she had schooled herself to be 
 patient under their gibes. But this morning, with a biting 
 retort on the tip of her tongue, she gave full vent to her pent- 
 up spite. 
 
 " Daughter of a dog ! " she screamed. " May thy father's 
 grave be defiled and thy race perish utterly from off the earth ! 
 Thou art made on the pattern of thy mistress, and she is a 
 harlot ! Our master is deceived when he thinks her at the 
 bath all the morning. Ah, I have learnt a thing by the mouth 
 of Nur — a thing which, whispered in Said's ear, will cause the 
 downfall of this fine lady who lies all day long among soft 
 cushions, and fears to soil the whiteness of her fingers. Said 
 may kill her in his wrath — such deeds are common ! . . . No, 
 I warrant thee, the message I bear to Said is no vain 
 compliment — by Allah, no ! It is of weight to crush thy 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 211 
 
 mistress and thee, and a hundred like thee. Go tell Ferideh 
 that I have enough of her taunts, that I will abide them no 
 more ! Give her my peace, I pray thee, and call her by the 
 name she has earned for herself ! To be childless by the will 
 of Allah is no sin ; but for a woman to be faithless to her 
 husband is a crime in the sight of God and man. Let her 
 despise me because I am without issue, because my hands are 
 rough with work while she lies at ease ; it is well — very well ! 
 Praise be to Allah, I am not as she is— curse her father ! " 
 
 Hasneh spat at the girl, who blenched before her. Then, 
 still trembling with the tension of her outburst, she sat down 
 with what countenance she might, and turned her handle 
 of the mill so furiously that her helper was obliged to ex- 
 postulate. 
 
 " What is there ? " cried the negro, sleepily, from his 
 basking-place in the yard. " Allah destroy you women ! A 
 man can enjoy no length of peace for the noise of you. It 
 seems that a warm day of summer, when it is pleasant to rest 
 and praise Allah, is the same to you as a winter's day of rain 
 and wind. You quarrel at all times, jabbering at the pitch of 
 your voices. Be quiet, I say, and cease bickering, or I will 
 throw my great staff at you ! " 
 
 " Hold peace thyself, O Ibrahim, and be more courteous 
 in thy speech ! " retorted Hasneh, highly, from her task, without 
 looking at him or turning her head. 
 
 Conscious of having knowledge which would ruin her 
 enemy, elated from the triumph of her late denunciation, she 
 was inclined to be arrogant. She fondly believed that the 
 shame of Ferideh would mean her own reinstatement ; and 
 clearly the handmaids were of a like opinion, for their bearing 
 towards her was wholly changed. The girl, Ferideh's pet, 
 whose ill-natured jest had called forth that storm of her wrath, 
 sat shrinking and abashed, and seized an early occasion to 
 slip away. Her fellow-worker at the mill was become 
 obsequious, full of attentions. 
 
 She exulted in the thought that Said would be restored to 
 her at last ; forgetting that she grew old, that the day of her 
 charm was passed and the light of youth quenched in her eye 
 She recalled bright moments of her life ; the last days of 
 maidenhood, when Said led a bride to his dwelling on the sea- 
 shore ; her meeting with him after long separation in the gate- 
 
212 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 way of the lonely khan, in the first pallor of the dawning. 
 Then, as they sat together, the sun rising upon the desert, he 
 had vowed that she alone was mistress of his fancy, and should 
 rule in his harlm. His heart had warmed to her then, and she 
 had been very happy. But Ferideh, the Christian's daughter, 
 had cast a spell upon him, weaning his love from her. Now 
 it was in her power to make him hate Ferideh, and, when the 
 first mad rage of jealousy should be spent, he would surely 
 come to his old wife for comfort. Her heart made a song of 
 passing sweetness rhythmic with the grinding of the mill. 
 
 She was indulging in such dreams as these when the tones 
 of her lord's voice, cursing the doorkeeper for a sleepy pig, 
 scion of a race of dogs, caused her to start. She rose quickly 
 and, disposing her shroud-like clothing as decently as the 
 hurry would allow, stepped out to meet him in the sunlight. 
 Her companion remained by the mill, gaping after her with 
 eyes of awe. 
 
 Said strode aimlessly into the yard, followed by his bare- 
 legged escort and the sunshade. Seeing Hasneh come 
 towards him, he greeted her carelessly and straightway turned 
 his back ; but she ran and, falling on her knees, caught the 
 skirt of his cloak. 
 
 " Allah bless thee ! " he cried testily, striving to draw away. 
 "Come to me at another time when I have leisure. For the 
 present I am very busy. ... O Ferideh, what wouldest 
 thou, light of my eyes ? I come to rest awhile with thee till 
 the heat of the day be over. . . . Let go my robe, woman, 
 lest my anger light on thee ! " 
 
 In her eager haste to be heard, Hasneh had had no eyes 
 save for Said only. She did not see Ferideh issue forth from 
 the door of the women's quarters, nor the face of the favourite 
 handmaid peeping from the projecting lattice of the upper 
 storey. Now suddenly, as Said ceased speaking, she found 
 herself face to face with her adversary ; and the shock robbed 
 her of speech. Ferideh had come forth hurriedly, unveiled. 
 Her eyes were steely bright, her mouth was a thin line of dire 
 rage and determination. 
 
 Hasneh still clung to the merchant's robe, but her gaze 
 was fixed on her rival's face, fascinated with a kind of horror. 
 Said strove to free himself but could not. 
 
 " If, indeed, thou hast anything to say, speak, woman, and 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 213 
 
 make an end ! " he exclaimed, with rising anger. " If thou art 
 dumb, as thou seemest to be, unhand me — dost hear? — and 
 that speedily, or it shall be the worse for thee ! " 
 
 " O Said, O my beloved, hear me but a minute ! " she 
 gasped, aiming to kill Ferideh with her eyes. " It is no good 
 news that I bring thee, O my soul. Know that Nur visited 
 thee this morning, and, finding thee from home — " 
 
 She fared no further, for Ferideh sprang on her and closed 
 her mouth. Though, from glaring in her rival's eyes, Hasneh 
 had seen what was coming and was half prepared to meet it, 
 the shock all but bore her to the ground. It forced her to 
 quit hold of Said's garment, and, kneeling as she was, pressed 
 her back and down on to her heels. 
 
 " Merciful Allah ! What does this mean ? " cried the lord 
 of the house, surprised out of all countenance. " Allah destroy 
 you both ! Speak, O Ferideh ! What has Hasneh done to 
 thee that thou shouldst so misuse her?" 
 
 " Thou askest what she has done ! . . . O my dear lord, 
 she is a liar, a backbiter and a breeder of all mischief ! She 
 hates me, as thou must surely have observed, with a great 
 hatred, because I have borne a son to thee while she is child- 
 less. She had a quarrel in this same hour with Saadeh, my 
 handmaid, wherein she called me every foul name and swore 
 to poison thy mind against me, she cared not by what false- 
 hood. Every day she does something to my hurt or annoy- 
 ance, and Saadeh tells me that she has vowed to kill Suleyman, 
 thy son and mine. There is no safety with her in the house. 
 . . . Do I not right to stop her mouth with my hand lest she 
 speak a lie in thy ears ? A false tongue is powerful to make 
 mischief, and, Allah pardon ! I die only to think thou mightest 
 have believed her tale. O my beloved, hasten to my chamber, 
 where I will explain to thee the whole matter." 
 
 One of her hands closed Hasneh's mouth while with the 
 other she held her rival's throat in a tight clutch, forcing her 
 backwards so that she was nearly powerless. Even when Said 
 sharply bade her let go if she would not strangle the woman, 
 she still clung to her hold. 
 
 "Speak, O Ibrahim," quoth Said, turning to the door- 
 keeper, who, with the bare-legged henchman, stood looking 
 on aghast. "Heardest thou aught of this quarrel of which 
 the lady speaks?" 
 
214 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "Yes, surely," replied the negro, with a candid grin. 
 " There is no doubt but that the mother of Suleyman — may 
 she be blessed in him ! — speaks truth ; for I myself was 
 disturbed a while ago by a great din, and heard with my own 
 ears the lady Hasneh utter foul insults. But of a truth I 
 wonder not that she grows spiteful, for she is the butt and 
 laughing-stock of the other women. They name her Mother 
 of Wind and jeer at her for no reason. It is no wonder, I say, 
 if she try in her turn to hurt them a little, for to my knowledge 
 they use her very ill. No one should laugh at a camel for his 
 crookedness, nor at a woman because she is childless. These 
 are as Allah Most High was pleased to make them ; it is no 
 fault of their own if they are not otherwise." 
 
 Said waved him off impatiently. 
 
 " Enough," he said. " I perceive clearly that the right is 
 with thee, O Ferideh. Now leave off fighting with that 
 woman and come with me into the house. It is a sin that 
 thou shouldst be so unveiled in the sight of men." 
 
 Ferideh gave her enemy a final push, so that she fell 
 heavily on her side. Exultant, with bright eyes and face 
 aglow, she followed her lord into the gloom and coolness of 
 the house. A reaction shook her from head to foot, inwardly, 
 as the seeds of grass are shaken. As she crossed the threshold 
 of an inner door, the voice of Hasneh was lifted shrill to 
 denounce her. The words were of hatred unmeasured for 
 bitterness. They let her know all that she had escaped. 
 Looking soft-eyed into her lord's face, with hand caressing 
 his arm, — 
 
 "Said I not that she had a grudge against me?" she 
 murmured. "Hear now the words of her mouth, how evil 
 they are. Hadst thou listened to the voice of her spite, thou 
 hadst believed her tale, perhaps, and then, alas ! I had lost 
 thy love, O prince of my soul ! Did I not well to silence her 
 in time ? " 
 
 " Thou didst well," whispered Said, fervently, drawing near 
 and circling her with an arm. " But Allah have pity ! thy hand 
 bleeds. The palm of it is bitten through. Behold the blood 
 is on my robe — and thine likewise ! Thou hast great courage, 
 O my beloved. By the Coran, I, who am a man, and reputed 
 no coward, had screamed for a wound like this." 
 
 Smiling tenderly, "I felt it not," she murmured, seeking 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 215 
 
 his eyes. "I care not what befalls me so that I be still 
 mistress of thy fancy, O stream of my life ! " 
 
 He tore a strip of his own clothing and swathed her hand 
 in it. Full of care for her, he did not quit her chamber until 
 the evening. 
 
 After a frantic attempt to pursue her rival, which was 
 easily frustrated by the two serving-men, Hasneh returned to 
 the storehouse. She found it empty, for the work of grinding 
 was done and the maid was flown to join her fellow in another 
 place, to chat over the scene and debate its meaning. For a 
 great while she sat there heart-broken. Once Suleyman ran 
 in upon her out of the sunlight, to kick her, spit upon her, and 
 slap her repeatedly with his tiny hands ; cursing her religion, 
 her parentage, and calling down all evil upon her for the hurt 
 done to his mother. But, as she seemed not to heed, the 
 child soon wearied, and, with a last kick, trotted out again into 
 the court. She could hear him pestering the doorkeeper, 
 telling the tale of her misdeeds with a child's exaggeration of 
 detail. Then he went back to his mother or to join the 
 maids, and there was quiet once more. 
 
 At length, when the day was far spent, she drew her veil, 
 and, gliding unobserved by the drowsy negro, bent her steps 
 towards the cellar of Nur. 
 
IV 
 
 " /^v MY loved one, I tell thee there is no end to Tier hate 
 \±y of me ; and Nur is as her mouthpiece in this matter. 
 Thou wouldst know the reason ? That I cannot tell thee, for 
 I myself have not ascertained it. But one thing is sure : she 
 would fain destroy me and mine. For my life I fear her, and 
 for the life of Suleyman, the hope of thy father's house. It 
 may be that she cannot bear to see me preferred to her in the 
 secret of thy love, to know that I shall rule a part of this 
 great mansion thou art minded to buy. She would kill me, 
 thinking to make thee all her own once more. Laugh with 
 me, O my soul ! — she thinks she yet has charms to tempt and 
 hold thee. . . . She will say all things to turn the favour I 
 have found in thy sight to loathing ; and, if speech avail not, 
 she will certainly compass my death and the death of 
 Suleyman, thy darling. This day she has tried one way 
 and failed. It is likely she will next bring Nur hither, as it 
 were to confirm her report, to tell thee lies of her teaching. 
 Thou wilt not hearken to her, O my lord ? Swear to give no 
 heed to the words of her mouth — the words of my enemy, 
 whose creature she is ! O Said, swear this to me by the spirit 
 of thy religion i For the sake of the son I have borne to 
 thee, set my mind at rest ! My heart grows sick for fear 
 I should lose thy favour by which alone I live. Swear that 
 thy understanding shall lend no weight to their calumnies, 
 that I may know I have yet a little grace in thy sight ! And 
 ah ! swear to put away this wicked woman — to cast her forth 
 .as an evil-doer from thy house. Does she not daily, hourly, 
 plot my death and the death of thy son ? Is she not there- 
 fore guilty of blood? O Said, O my beloved, O spring of 
 life to me, scorn not my prayer or I shall know that thy desire 
 is clean gone from me ! " 
 
 216 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 217 
 
 Said fondled Ferideh's head as she lay in the crook of his 
 arm upon the couch. He swore eagerly, as a lover swears, 
 that he was deaf thenceforth to all that might be said against 
 her. But with regard to Hasneh, he would ponder the matter 
 at length and decide what was best to be done. 
 
 At that she cried out that he loved her not, and made as 
 if to break away ; but his strong arm held her fast. Pouting, 
 with reproachful eyes, — 
 
 " What is this ? " she whispered. " Art thou then weary of 
 me and has that foul hag thy favour, that thou shakest so thy 
 head and wilt not vouchsafe me a plain answer ? Does she 
 not plot to murder me and my child ? — Ay, and it may be 
 thee also, O sun that warms me ! My prayer is for thy happi- 
 ness and the lives of all who love thee. Cast her forth, I 
 beseech thee, as thou carest for me." 
 
 She hung upon him with strained throat and bosom 
 crushed. Her eyes languished into his, striving to cast that 
 spell upon him which made his heart like melted wax for her 
 will's moulding. For a brief space his purpose wavered. The 
 faintness of strong desire came upon him as a mist confusing 
 his brain, so that he saw things dimly. But he mastered 
 himself; and his face took on a look of tender firmness, such 
 as one uses to chide a well-loved daughter. 
 
 "Allah witness, I would do all things to preserve thee, O 
 Ferideh, O garden of my delight ! But this one thing I 
 cannot ; to cast out a woman who has been mine since first I 
 wore the turban, and who has given proof of faithfulness in 
 many trials and hardships. To do this would be a crime in 
 the sight of Allah, and all my neighbours would cry shame 
 upon me. It may well be that she is jealous, but thou in thy 
 anger dost think too ill of her. Nevertheless jealousy is an 
 evil spirit to possess man or woman. It makes a virtue of 
 foul sin, and is mother to the lust of blood. I will have her 
 watched narrowly, I promise, so that her malice shall not 
 harm thee. Moreover, I swear I will never speak friendly to 
 her from this hour forth, since she is hateful to thee, O full 
 moon of my nights. But cast her forth I cannot, lest all good 
 men should forsake me." 
 
 He thought directly of Sellm, that upright servant, before 
 whose outspoken criticism and advice he had quailed more 
 than once despite his show of assurance. Sellm was a good 
 
218 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Muslim, a man pious and devout both in practice and at heart. 
 Had he been born to wealth and eminence he would have 
 been revered of all men for a saint, even as Ismail Abbas, the 
 Sherif. Said, coveting above all things a reputation for 
 sanctity, had come, almost without knowing it, to model his 
 behaviour on that of his bailiff. Whenever a question of 
 conduct confronted him, he would refer it mentally to Selim, 
 conjuring up a bearded face, with mild eyes looking shrewdly 
 from under a high, turbaned forehead. This time the brow of 
 the vision was knitted in strong disapproval and the eyes were 
 keen of reproach. 
 
 Though far from content with his answer, Ferideh under- 
 stood that it was final. She hung back from him, and, resting 
 her chin in her hand, sulked awhile with downcast eyes and 
 jutting underlip. The change from girlhood had taken nothing 
 from her charm. The full, round lines of bust and limbs, 
 scarcely blurred by her under robe of silk gauze, might coarsen 
 to fatness by-and-by, but showed as yet no more than a 
 pleasing softness. The skin of her face and neck were waxen 
 white, except the cheeks, which were painted. Paint also was 
 responsible for the extreme redness of her lips, which made 
 them like a wound. Her grey eyes, artificially brightened, 
 languished under long black lashes ; and her hair was glossy 
 with unguents. 
 
 Said's passion for her, instead of abating, had grown with 
 the years. Hasneh had given him her whole heart at one gift, 
 and he had soon wearied of her. But with Ferideh he was 
 haunted by a suspicion of something withheld, of some inner 
 shrine still barred to him. There was a reserve in all her 
 tenderness. Though never felt at the moment, it struck him 
 always in the retrospect. Looking back upon the times when 
 she had been most yielding and full of endearments, he re- 
 cognised its presence then as ever. And the feeling of some- 
 thing beyond kept his ardour alive, as the fire leaps always to 
 fresh fuel. 
 
 The scene of their talk was an upper chamber, lighted 
 discreetly by a deep-bayed lattice projecting over the yard. 
 The vault of the ceiling was shaped like a sea-urchin ; and 
 from the height of its dome a curious lamp of bronze hung by 
 a chain of the like metal. In one corner, near the door, 
 stood a bed, decked with a white coverlid cunningly em- 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 219 
 
 broidered with gold, and veiled by mosquito curtains of the 
 finest gauze. It was a true Frankish bed — just such another 
 as that Said had coveted years ago, in the house of the mis- 
 sionary. Its iron frame was supported on six legs, and above 
 it at each corner stood a brass knob flanking the rail. He 
 had bought it of a Greek merchant for the price first asked, so 
 instant was his desire of it, and the money burning his hand. 
 Two or three large stools inlaid with mother-of-pearl, a great 
 chest or press of the same workmanship, a large divan, wide 
 as the bed, and made as soft with gaily-coloured cushions — these 
 and a number of vessels and trays of earthenware, copper, 
 brass and even silver, set in a row beside the entry, made up 
 the furniture of the room. The walls had once been painted 
 in a chequered pattern, but the paint had worn or peeled off 
 for the most part, and none had cared to renew it. The pair 
 were alone. 
 
 "What part has Nur in this business?" asked Said at 
 length, breaking a thoughtful silence. " She has ever been most 
 friendly to me — and to thee likewise, O my soul ; since it is 
 by her aid that I am lord of thy fancy. It cannot be that 
 she is turned my enemy. ... By Allah, no ! it is im- 
 possible." 
 
 Ferideh slipped from the couch and knelt at his feet. 
 She reached out her arms to draw him down to her, gazing 
 tenderly into his face. 
 
 " O my great lord," she murmured, with a playful fondness, 
 " thou art a man and wise, while I am but a woman and of 
 no understanding. Yet must I be thy seer, it seems, to point 
 out to thee the cause of many things thy wisdom cannot 
 fathom. Know then, O breath of my life, that mightier than 
 jealousy, more misleading than strong drink, more heady than 
 the perfume of a fair woman, is the greed for money. Now 
 Nur is the very mother of avarice, and, since her lot is not as 
 the lot of other women, she can have her will of what belongs 
 to her. A maid or a wife may hoard money, but she is sure 
 it will never profit her. With this old woman it is otherwise. 
 The thirst for more grows on her with the years. I doubt not 
 but thou didst fully requite her for her service to thee in the 
 year of the great war, when — may Allah preserve thee for ever, 
 O father of kindness ! — thou didst stoop to rescue me, thy 
 handmaid, from the ruin of my father's house. I say, I am 
 
220 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 sure thou didst reward her nobly. Yet, now that she beholds 
 thee rich and high in honour, she remembers it as little and 
 grumbles openly. 
 
 11 my beloved, the cause of all this coil is thy distrust of 
 me. I am not jealous of Hasneh — Allah forbid ! Yet it 
 grieves me to think that thou hast a secret with her which is 
 concealed from me. I mean the secret of the place where thy 
 store is hidden. Nur knows well that Hasneh is in thy con- 
 fidence; it is for this that she courts her favour. I, thy 
 servant, am the main obstacle in her way, wherefore she, as 
 well as Hasneh, schemes to remove me ; well knowing that I 
 suspect the Mother of Wind, and keep strict watch on her and 
 all who visit her. I know not what reward she holds out to 
 Hasneh, but it must be a great one ; for Saadeh tells me that 
 the eyes of the childless one brighten strangely when she 
 speaks apart with her, and all her bearing is of one who 
 clinches a rare bargain. Now, O my lord, thou knowest all — 
 as much as I have been able to gather of the plot. May Allah 
 preserve thy life to me for ever, and may all who hate thee 
 perish utterly ! " 
 
SAID'S anger burst forth like a torrent after rain. Even 
 Ferideh's life was of less moment than his precious 
 hoard. He called down every kind of shame and disaster 
 upon Nur and all her kind. Though his understanding dis- 
 counted the tale of Hasneh's complicity, his savage rage of 
 the moment made no distinctions. He had no doubt but 
 that Nur had beguiled his woman to let her into the secret of 
 the hiding-place ; and he cursed Hasneh with all the venom 
 of threatened greed. 
 
 A slight hubbub arose in the court below, but he heeded 
 it not, though Ferideh strained her ears to listen. 
 
 "By Allah, I must at once remove my treasure to some 
 other place ; and henceforth I will trust thee, and thee only, 
 O Ferideh," he muttered in a kind of frenzy. " It may be 
 they have filched from it already. Praise to Allah, thou hast 
 warned me in time ! At present there is but a small sum 
 in the house; but, after a few days, when my shop and 
 stock-in-trade shall have been sold, the whole head of my 
 wealth must lie here for a while, until I have closed the bargain 
 with Mahmud ; for I have sworn never to trust a usurer with 
 my fortune. Mahmud is obstinate and makes a brave show 
 of holding out, but I know privately that his need is urgent ; 
 and he must shortly come to terms. By the Holy Coran ; 
 by Allah Most High, I shall henceforth trust thee only, O 
 my soul! Now listen. ..." 
 
 She sat at his feet with veiled eyes, but her whole posture 
 told of the keenest attention. The chatter of voices in the 
 yard was no more to her now than the droning buzz of flies 
 which filled the room, and which from long use was accounted 
 silence. 
 
 " Thou knowest the roof of this chamber, how it towers 
 above the rest of the house, and the flight of steps leading up to 
 
 221 
 
222 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 it. Beside the steps, on the right of one ascending, there 
 is a stone like to other stones in the wall, seeming firmly set 
 as they. Thou mayest know it by the mark of a chisel near 
 its centre. It is a cheat, being but a thin slab — the door of 
 a kind of cupboard. This night I must move my money 
 thither, and if thou canst contrive to join me by stealth, I will 
 teach thee the trick of it. It was made by the owner of the 
 place for his own ends. He showed it me as giving his 
 house an advantage over others; but hitherto I have not 
 used it, considering that Ibrahim, the doorkeeper, had dwelt 
 long on the premises and might well have an inkling of its 
 whereabouts. But now that my own hiding-place is dis- 
 covered, I must place the money there. Henceforth thou 
 and no other art in the secret. Allah reward thee, that thou 
 hast warned me in time ! " 
 
 Ferideh kissed his hand and fondled it, her face shadowed 
 by the tresses she had loosed to charm him. A sweet perfume 
 rose from her, enervating him. He stretched his hands to 
 raise her. 
 
 But, even as he leaned forward, the door was pushed open 
 and Suleyman ran in with a burst of laughter. 
 
 The little boy was arrayed as a miniature Turkish soldier— 
 a fancy dress Said had seen in the shop of a tailor, and had 
 brought home with him to please Ferideh. The doorkeeper 
 had fashioned him a tiny wooden sword, which he wore 
 proudly stuck in his belt. With a spoilt child's confidence 
 he flew straight to Said, laughing, childlike, for no cause 
 whatever. Scrambling upon the couch, he seated himself 
 cross-legged, still laughing, ere he deigned to speak. 
 
 "O my father," he piped. "It is Nur, the old woman, 
 who is come to see thee. She waits below with the Mother 
 of Wind, whom I have beaten stoutly — I promise thee, by 
 Allah — for making my mother's hand bleed. She — I mean 
 not that wicked one, but Nur — she bade me say that she 
 would speak with thee alone. Now I love Nur well, because 
 she brings me sweets from the shop of Kheyr-ud-din, and 
 Kheyr-ud-din, as thou thyself hast said, O my father, is the 
 lord of all for candies. See, O my mother, what she has 
 brought me to-day ! " 
 
 He opened his hand to show a sample of the sweetmeat 
 called "baclawi," which is a kind of pastry sandwich, filled 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 223 
 
 with spices, sugar, and a dough of sweet nuts, the whole 
 perfectly soaked in honey. The hand displayed was sticky, 
 so he licked it; rubbing his belly with the other to convey 
 a gluttonous joy. 
 
 "Up, O Suleyman!" cried Said, fiercely. "Run, bid 
 this old woman come hither, to this room, if she has aught 
 of importance to say to me. Tell her besides that I have 
 no secret from the mother of my delight!" 
 
 The little boy slipped down from the sofa and stood a 
 minute staring up at him, the half smile of his parted lips 
 begging but a little encouragement to become a guffaw. Then, 
 awed by the sternness of the eyes meeting his, he ran to do 
 the errand as fast as his short legs could carry him. 
 
 Ferideh snatched up a shroud-like garment and a veil 
 which hung over the end of the couch, and made haste to 
 don them. Then she knelt to Said and kissed his hand, press- 
 ing her forehead to it, as a servant craving protection. He fell 
 to stroking her head-dress, a great storm in his throat choking 
 speech. 
 
 They heard footfalls on the stair, and a sound of laboured 
 breathing. Then the tall figure of Nur, which the years had 
 bowed a little, stood in the doorway ; and a deep, unquavering 
 voice, said, — 
 
 " Peace be upon thee, O Said, child of my soul ! and upon 
 thee also, O daughter of Yuhanna." 
 
 Ferideh returned the salutation mechanically; but the 
 wrath of her lord broke through the habit of a lifetime. 
 Without one word of compliment or blessing, he rushed upon 
 the visitor and cursed her for a thief and a liar, the mother 
 of all mischief. She stood aghast as one thunderstruck, 
 staring at him, while he heaped insult upon insult, sparing 
 no taunt that might wound her. He reviled her with her 
 way of life, calling her all the foul names his throat could 
 frame or his lips utter. He spat upon her for a robber, and 
 would have smitten her face where the eyes shone through 
 the veil, had not Ferideh rushed forward screaming to stay 
 his arm. 
 
 For long Nur remained speechless under his abuse ; but by 
 degrees, the lash of his tongue stinging her, she waxed furious. 
 The words of her mouth scarcely reached Said save as a 
 stream that strove and failed to drown the torrent of his 
 
224 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 cursing. Yet a few of them remained with him long after 
 as a menace. " I have loved thee ever as my own child, 
 O Said, lord of ingratitude. I would have served thee with 
 my life. And yet thou returnest me no greeting when I bless 
 thee, neither dost thou wait to hear my tale, but assailest 
 me suddenly with evil words, heaping dishonour upon me. 
 Thou art a fool thus to outrage one who never drew near 
 thee with any other purpose than to promote thy welfare. . . . 
 Get me gone, forsooth ! Yes, truly I will get me gone, and 
 that for ever, from this house and the pig its owner. Allah 
 witness, I wash my hands of the dirt of thee. It is well seen 
 thou art the son of low people, O fisherman, who breakest 
 every law of behaviour in thy own house. See how he winces, 
 how the mean soul thinks shame that he was once poor by 
 the will of Allah ! Ah, there are many things thou didst 
 bind me not to tell which now shall be made known in the 
 city ! How gottest thou that wealth, the root of all thy 
 honour? Didst thou not take it from the old man, the 
 beggar who called thee son? And did he not plunder it 
 from the house of Yuhanna, father to this woman, whom he 
 slew with his own hand? Was there not the Sultan's order 
 that restitution should be made, even to the full amount 
 of all that was looted from the Nazarenes? and hast thou 
 made any ? Have I not been thy preserver a hundred times, 
 when a word of my mouth could have ruined thee ? Even 
 now, when I publish the truth, thou shalt hardly escape a 
 heavy penalty. It may be they will deprive thee of all that 
 thou hast ; for the Waly is needy and loves money, and thy 
 name and honour stand not high enough to acquit 
 thee. . . . 
 
 "Allah knows I loved thee as though thou hadst been my 
 own child, and because I loved thee I have been a shield to 
 thee these many years ; but now all ties are broken betwixt me 
 and thee. All I know concerning thee shall be noised abroad ; 
 and thou hast told me much that ill becomes a believer. Thy 
 neighbours shall turn from thee with loathing when they 
 learn how thou didst use thy more than father, when he lay 
 dead ; making off at once with the money, and leaving thy 
 duty of burial and grief to be done by others. Oh, may 
 Allah blast thy life and blind thee, thou hypocrite who 
 wouldst be called a saint ! I came hither, a friend, to warn 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 225 
 
 thee of a peril threatening thee : I go hence, thy foe till 
 death, the friend of thy haters, O dog, son of a dog!" 
 
 She was gone and the sound of her retreating steps died 
 upon the stairs. But odd phrases of her speech, which had 
 come to him through the thunder of his own rage, rang yet in 
 Said's brain, like the catch of an evil song, and rankled there. 
 He frowned and his eyes grew haggard. A hush seemed to 
 have fallen upon the house ; or was it only that he was deaf 
 from the late uproar? He pictured the servants whispering 
 together in corners, and hoped to Allah no word of Nur's had 
 reached them. He heard the voice of the doorkeeper raised 
 in a farewell compliment, and the slam of the closing gate 
 behind someone who had passed out ; and he was thankful to 
 know that she was gone. 
 
 Ferideh laughed scornfully, looking at the empty doorway 
 as if she still saw the bowed figure filling it, wrapped in its 
 shroud of blue with tarnished fringe of gold. Then, marking 
 her lord's gloom, she knelt down at his feet and put up her 
 arms to him. 
 
 "Praise be to Allah!" she murmured. "Now I surely 
 know that I have favour in thy sight, because thou hast 
 refused to hear the tale of this wicked woman, which is a lie 
 even as the words she spake but now concerning thee are all 
 lies. Seem not so sad, O my dear, for she is powerless to 
 hurt thee seeing thou art set high in wealth and honour, and 
 nil men know thee for a good man and an upright. For the 
 sake of the kindness thou hast shown me in this matter, and 
 because thou hast deigned to reveal to me the secret place of 
 thy treasure, I am now more fully thine than ever before. 
 What thanks can I render thee, O my soul ? Behold, my in- 
 most secret heart is thine, and I have no desire apart from 
 thee. Take me in thy arms, O sun that warms me! Kiss 
 me, O my beloved ! " . . . 
 
 Whereat Said became as one of no understanding. 
 
VI 
 
 ON an evening Said went forth alone into the gardens, to 
 the coffee-house of Rashid, which was on the river 
 bank. He was sure to find Selhn there at that hour ; and he 
 walked eagerly, having blithe news to tell. At last Mahmud 
 Effendi had humbled himself, and Said was master of the 
 bargain, though in no haste to conclude it. One more inter- 
 view with the needy grandee and he would own the finest 
 freehold palace in the city. Moreover, thanks to his address 
 in beating down the price, he would have plenty of money left 
 when it was paid. The surplus he would employ in trade and 
 usury, to such advantage that he would soon be the richest 
 man of the province and highest in honour. He saw himself 
 a member of the Council of Notables, enthroned at the Waly's 
 right hand, advising the Governor in all things. 
 
 The sometime fisherman hugged himself at the prospect. 
 As he emerged from the eastern gate the last rays of sunlight, 
 glanced from the dark hill-tops, were melting the leafage to 
 amber and pale gold. A rich purple gloom gathered in the 
 east, under a sky of amethyst melting to palest green. Down 
 the narrow road, between stone walls more or less ruined, 
 which led to the pleasure-groves by the riverside, men in flow- 
 ing robes were sauntering by groups of two and three. Their 
 moving shadows were long, oblique and very blue. Most of 
 them dangled chaplets, whose beads they shifted lazily one by 
 one. A few of the more exquisite held flowers of strong per- 
 fume to their nostrils, at which they smelt rapturously with a 
 deep breath like a sigh. 
 
 The blaze on the hill-tops died suddenly, leaving a glow as 
 of live coal. All things took on soft, dead tints. Shadows 
 grew faint, ashy grey all at once. The sky basked in an after- 
 thought of glory, growing tender for the stars. 
 
 226 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 227 
 
 A low doorway of the kind which is usual in walled vine- 
 yards admitted to the garden, or rather wilderness, in which 
 was the tavern of Rasrrid. Said bowed his head to pass the 
 lintel, and then stood still in astonishment. In a space pretty 
 clear of the bushes, which formed thickets on every side, there 
 were four tents pitched. Three of them were large marquees ; 
 the fourth, a mere canvas screen about a fire, was observed 
 closely by a gathering of curious loafers. Hobbled horses 
 grazed where they could. In the mouth of the largest tent a 
 party of Franks, lounging on chairs of loose structure, were 
 enjoying the cool of the evening. The sound of their laughter 
 reached Said, like the beating on a tin for emptiness. From 
 the point of the tent where they sat drooped a small flag of 
 red, white and blue, oddly striped. Said knew the pattern of 
 it. It was the same which fluttered on the first day of every 
 week over the dwelling of the English Consul. " Travellers 
 from the land of the English," he thought, and marvelled at 
 the folly of men who, having wealth and honour in their own 
 country, and being neither merchants nor pilgrims, would thus 
 wander forth in discomfort. 
 
 Taking stock of the encampment, he drew near to the 
 tavern. Two or three persons who knew him rose and saluted 
 at his approach. He returned their greeting in a preoccupied 
 manner and passed on to Selim, who had carried his stool 
 apart and sat against the trunk of a walnut-tree which over- 
 hung the stream. Rashid himself was forward to bring a seat 
 for the merchant and to ask what he would be pleased to 
 drink. 
 
 "What news, O my master?" asked Selim, settling down 
 once more to the enjoyment of his smoke. 
 
 " Good news — excellent ! " rejoined the other, with a com- 
 placent purse of his lips. " Praise be to Allah, one may say 
 that the bargain is concluded." 
 
 " Now, by my beard, I am happy with thee. May Allah 
 make thee blest in it ! " 
 
 There followed silence between them for a little while ; 
 Said reviewing his cleverness with a gratified smirk, Selim 
 gravely watching the dark swirl of the eddies in their bed of 
 pale stones. 
 
 14 1 needs must call in all my money by the third day of 
 next week," murmured Said, as one who thinks aloud. 
 
228 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Sellm knitted his forehead, calculating. 
 
 "To hear is to obey," he said ruefully. "Nevertheless, 
 there is much business and the time is short. Two weeks 
 would scarcely suffice for all that must be done, and behold, 
 thou givest me but a few days. He who sells in a hurry sells 
 at a loss. If, as thou sayest, thou hast made an easy bargain, 
 it cannot surely be that thou wilt need the whole of thy wealth. 
 O my brother, I counsel thee to put off the sale of thy merchan- 
 dise for at least a little time ! " 
 
 " It cannot be," said Said, peevishly. " I must know the 
 true sum of my wealth. To buy a fine palace and not to 
 know exactly what was left to him were the action of a fool ! 
 The man who did so would be a laughing-stock, and rightly 
 despised. ... By Allah, it will be sweet to behold it all 
 before me — all the great wealth which is mine — to pass my 
 lingers through it as one does through dry grains of corn ; to 
 reckon it over and over and know that it is with me in the 
 house. Praise to Allah, who has made me rich ! " 
 
 " Now, Allah forgive thee, O my brother, for thou settest 
 too great store by thy money. Thy heart and thy soul are in 
 it. At that time evil befalls a man when most he vaunts his 
 honour and is puffed up because of it. It is not right for one 
 to keep too close an account of his goods. A man's fortune 
 is like his vineyard : the heart of it is his own, but every way- 
 farer has a share in the outlying parts which skirt the highway. 
 Who would deny a bunch of grapes to the thirsty ? And if he 
 pluck for himself, would any be found to blame him ? So the 
 heart of thy fortune is thine by Allah's leave ; yet thou shalt 
 not take too exact an account of it, lest from always saying 
 ' I have so-and-so much ' thou set thy wealth between thee 
 and Allah Most High. When a man has a field of corn he 
 will suffer God's poor to glean in it at the harvest time. Like- 
 wise, when a man is blessed with riches even as thou art, it is 
 seemly that, in taking account, he leave an undefined portion 
 for the poor. Nothing of all a man has is his own, but he 
 must pay a part of it in alms to God. If he omit to do this, 
 Allah Himself shall call him niggard and shall soon strike 
 him down, as unworthy, from his high estate. O my brother, 
 all this while that I have been thy servant it has been in my 
 mind that I would rather be a simple hireling, as I am, than 
 the lord of great riches, as thou art. Many snares are in the 
 
SAID THE rrSHERMAN 229 
 
 path of the great, but — praise be to Allah ! — the way of the 
 humble is plain." • 
 
 " Thou speakest vainly," said Said, snapping him up ; 
 " and thy words have no point for me. All this which thou 
 tellest me so solemnly, as if it were some new piece of wisdom, 
 I have known and observed from childhood. With what one 
 fault canst thou tax me, I should like to know ! Do I not give 
 alms to the utmost of all that is mine? Do I not always 
 praise Allah at the appointed hours? Havel ever omitted 
 to purify myself according to the law? By Allah, I wish to 
 know for what cause thou scoldest me ! " 
 
 Selim pleaded, — 
 
 " Nay, O my master, be not angry with me. Allah forbid 
 that I should venture to chide thee at all. I know well that 
 thou art in all things a just man, and I myself have great 
 reason to bless thee. I call Allah to witness that, from the 
 time thou didst bestow on me that rich garment which I still 
 treasure in my house, I have held thee always as a dear 
 brother. It was but as a brother that I spoke to thee, fearing 
 lest thou shouldst make for thyself an enemy whom none may 
 withstand. And in truth I think thou holdest too much by the 
 outward duty of the law, which, as his Honour Ismail Abbas 
 says, is to its spirit as the word is to its meaning, or the shell 
 of a nut to the kernel. Moreover — " 
 
 But Said stopped his ears. 
 
 " Enough ! Enough ! . . . Thou wilt provide that the 
 goods and the shop be sold, and the money brought to me 
 on the second day; I command thee: it is finished. And 
 now, with thy leave, we will speak of other matters." 
 
 After that Sellm was silent a great while, while Said puffed 
 defiantly at his narghileh. 
 
 The stars were bright by this time, though the sky above 
 the western horizon was still pale green and lustrous. A 
 single dome of the city, seen through a gap of the foliage, 
 seemed to shine beyond the dark walls with a spiritual white- 
 ness all its own. The moon, a thin crescent like the paring 
 of a fingernail, hung just above it, salient as a jewel on that 
 silky sky. A bird cried drowsily from the upper branches. 
 The wailing voice of a singer came from some other pleasure- 
 house down the stream. The eddies sang and murmured as 
 they sped by. 
 
230 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Anon Said picked up his stool and drew near to the 
 tavern. 
 
 He had remarked the grouping of those who sat there 
 about some person in their midst, and had caught several 
 deep-breathed " Ma sh' Allah "s, betokening amazement. Un- 
 doubtedly there was some story-teller whose fables might 
 serve to while away an hour and dispel the gloom which Selim's 
 sanctimonious croaking had cast upon him. He imparted 
 the conjecture to his henchman, who followed, nothing loth. 
 
 They set their stools within the circle of light shed by a 
 clumsy lantern which hung from a joist of the roof; their 
 coming hardly noticed by the other customers, so absorbed 
 were they in listening to the words of him who sat in their 
 midst. Those nearest them, on the outskirts, turned their 
 heads for a second and that was all. Rashid, grown very fat 
 with the years, was leaning against the door-post of the inner 
 room. His eyes ranged over the seated crowd before him and 
 his lip curled in scorn. 
 
 Said beckoned him to draw near. 
 
 "Who is the narrator, O my uncle?" he whispered. "Is 
 it anyone of whom one has heard? Are his stories worth 
 heeding ? " 
 
 " Faugh ! It is no narrator, effendi, but only a braggart 
 Nazarene who, having acquired a smattering of the learning 
 of the Franks, is become a dragoman. It is a shame that 
 true believers are found to flatter him by giving ear. By the 
 Coran, it angers me to see it ! He is a great liar, as thou shalt 
 presently hear." 
 
 Having imparted this to the merchant in an undertone, 
 the taverner returned to his door-post. The rays of the lantern 
 brought the faces of some of the listeners into warm relief; 
 but the story-teller had his back to the light. He wore a fez 
 set rakishly on one side, and for the rest was very gaily dressed 
 in the Turkish fashion. He seemed consumedly proud of a 
 whip of rhinoceros hide mounted and ringed with silver, 
 for he kept it constantly before the eyes of his audience, 
 illustrating every remark with a flourish. The man's attitude 
 was boastful and assuming, blent, however, with pride at 
 sitting thus on equal terms with men of the dominant creed. 
 Without, in the blue gloom of the x garden, the camp-fire and 
 the light of a lamp within the largest tent shone bleared and 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 231 
 
 ruddy. Black shapes were seen moving athwart them from 
 one to the other ; the travellers were being served with their 
 evening meal. 
 
 "And that city — that Lundra of which thou speakest — is 
 it a great city like this of ours, or a small place like Hama or 
 Zahleh ? " asked an old man of poor appearance. 
 
 The dragoman laughed loud and long. 
 
 " O Allah ! . o . O Lord ! . . . How you make me 
 laugh, you men who have seen no land but that you were 
 born in ! I tell you that if the city Es-Sham were five times 
 as great as it is, it would not amount to the half of that great 
 city Lundra of the English." 
 
 At that there was great outcry of wonder and unbelief. 
 " Ma sh'AUah ! " cried some and held their peace, aghast. 
 " Allah pardon ! n cried others. " Was there ever such a liar ? 
 We are simple men and unlearned — that is true — but this 
 thing passes belief ! " 
 
 "By the Holy Gospel, I speak truth," insisted the drago- 
 man, with vehemence. "May Allah cut off my life if that 
 which I say exceeds the truth by one tittle. I am likely to 
 know ; for I went to the city of Lundra and sojourned there 
 half a year by favour of an English lady — no less than a 
 princess, by Allah ! — who loved me and would have me with 
 her in the house." 
 
 "Ah, the women ! Tell us, I pray thee, O khawajah, what 
 the women are like," said a young and handsome Muslim with 
 a chuckle of self-conceit. 
 
 The dragoman grew rapturous. 
 
 " The women,, mean you ? Ah, how can I describe them ! 
 . . . And yet I promise thee it is not from want of knowledge 
 that my tongue fails me. The girls of that nation are white 
 and often plump. Their hair varies in colour from black to 
 the hue of clean gold. They are cold and difficult to men of 
 their own race, for whom they are used to care nothing ; but 
 they are warm and easy of access to foreigners, and especially 
 to us sons of the Arab, whose blood is as fire in our veins, 
 whose speech is impassioned poetry : so different from the 
 men of their nation, in whom the blood is a stagnant pool 
 and the tongue a sluggard. When I was in Lundra, fair 
 women followed me in the streets to beseech my company. I 
 speak not, you understand, of the loose women of that city, 
 
232 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 who are very fine and numerous, but of the wives and 
 daughters of men of substance. There were even some who 
 offered me money to go with them. I tell you, any son of an 
 Arab of an agreeable presence could have his pick of the 
 women of that land, from the wife of the greatest Emir to the 
 daughter of the meanest fellah." 
 
 " By the prophet, I have a mind to visit that country," 
 said the young Muslim with a fatuous laugh. 
 
 "Now in this party which I conduct at present" — the 
 dragoman pointed with his whip in the direction of the tents 
 — "there is a girl — ah ! I tell you — a pearl — a delight." He 
 held out his hand, pressing the tip of his thumb on that 
 of the extended forefinger : the common gesture of those who 
 would describe something too nice for words. "She loves 
 me, and comes forth to me every night while her parents 
 sleep. She entreats me always to marry her; but I am 
 doubtful whether to do so or not. Her father, you must 
 know, is rich — a great lord. It would be honourable to wed 
 the daughter of such an one. Perhaps — Allah knows! — I 
 shall yield at last to her prayers. Hist ! " . . . He sank his 
 voice swiftly. "Hither comes the very girl. No doubt she 
 strays in search of me. Observe now, I pray you ! " 
 
 Said stood up so that he could look over the intervening 
 heads. Every neck was craned, and all eyes peered in one 
 direction. 
 
 A young girl of about sixteen years, clad in the close- 
 fitting garb of the Frankish women, was sauntering towards 
 the tavern, eyeing the scene there with dreamy curiosity. She 
 wore no head-dress save her thick fair hair, which hung free 
 iown to her shoulders, where it was gathered in and confined 
 by a ribbon. In spite of her unveiled, undraped state, which, 
 to the mind of the onlookers, was little better than nakedness, 
 she moved freely, without a trace of embarrassment, until she 
 grew aware of the gaze of so many prying eyes, when she 
 averted her face and stepped more consciously. She passed 
 just within the sphere of the lantern, so that a faint, warm light 
 played on the outlines of her figure, hinting rather than 
 revealing its slender grace. Her hands clasped behind her 
 neck threw her bosom forward, strengthening the curve of it. 
 Said had often seen Frankish women and had marvelled at 
 their lack of modesty, but he had never beheld one so fair, so 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 233 
 
 young and so perfectly shameless. Believing the tale of the 
 Nazarene, he envied the good fortune of that son of a dog. 
 
 She was passing by with a timid glance when she caught 
 sight of the dragoman, who to that end had thrust himself 
 forward. She smiled and nodded graciously to him, saying 
 something kind in her own language. The man replied in a 
 tone of familiarity which conveyed all he meant that it should 
 to the minds of his hearers. 
 
 " Aha ! " said he, as soon as she was out of earshot. 
 " Aha ! She is a peerless gem. By-and-by, when her parents 
 sleep, she will steal out to seek me. By Allah, her mouth 
 overflows with honey. The taste of it makes me drunken." 
 
 The young Muslim stared after the maiden ; then, 
 turning, — 
 
 "Now, by my life, thou art in luck's way," he said. " It is 
 well seen, how fair she is ! But her father is surely a man of 
 no understanding, and her mother must be like unto him, to 
 let her thus wander without a covering." 
 
 " There is one law for the daughter of an Arab, another for 
 the child of a Frank," said the dragoman, sententiously. "As 
 for me, I have dwelt so much among foreigners that a veiled 
 woman is almost a strange thing to me. And, in truth, I 
 know no cause why a woman should veil her face any more 
 than a man, unless she be extremely frightful or loathsome to 
 view." 
 
 The tavern-keeper here spoke for the first time, and 
 severely, — 
 
 " Young man, thou speakest folly, being a stranger to the 
 Faith that saves. It is a law from of old that every woman 
 shall hide her face from the sight of men. Know that sinful 
 Cabil ebn Adam did lust after his twin sister, Abdul Mughis, 
 and for her sake slew Habil, his brother, who was a good man 
 and dear to Allah. Wherefore it was ordained that all women 
 should hide their shape, that mere lust of the eyes might 
 never more induce so great a crime. Allah is just and 
 merciful ! " 
 
 At that the garrulous talker was abashed, and his audience 
 looked strange upon him. In the interest they took in his 
 conversation they had all but forgotten the difference of creed. 
 A pause fraught with mutual shyness ensued. Then the 
 dragoman called for more arak and launched forth once more, 
 
234 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 though with somewhat less of assurance, feeling lonely all at 
 once. 
 
 Said abode in the little tavern until the first watch of the 
 night was almost spent. He was unaccountably interested in 
 all that the rascal had to tell of that distant land of the English, 
 where the sun was seldom seen, and the women were at once 
 so lovely and so kind to strangers. He questioned the 
 narrator shrewdly as to the state and manner of trade in those 
 parts, and was pleased with the answers he got. It seemed 
 that the finer merchandise of the East — as silks and rich 
 carpets, spices and sweet perfumes — were much prized by the 
 Franks. The way of life there was easy, he learnt, for one 
 who had money and was warmly clad. He felt attracted, and 
 hoped to visit that land. 
 
 He imparted this desire to Sellm as they walked back 
 together to the city whose walls rose black before them under 
 a sky pale with stars. But Selim was chary of sympathy. 
 
 "It is true what the drunkard told concerning the 
 Frankish women, how they love men of the East," he said 
 gravely. " Lo, is there not the English princess in our midst 
 — she who dwells in the house called the House of the 
 English Garden, which is beyond the Christian quarter ? She 
 submitted herself to a young man of the Bedawin, and is 
 become his wife. It is true what the dog said. But as for 
 thee, thou hast not yet performed the great pilgrimage ; and 
 that must be done ere thou canst think of migrating to a land 
 of unbelief." 
 
 " Perhaps the right is with thee," rejoined Said, moodily. 
 " Yet, from what the infidel said, it must be a pleasant land to 
 dwell in — none like it under Heaven ! Didst mark the girl, 
 how sweet she was ? By Allah, it is a shame that the son of a 
 dog should have her ... I charge thee make all speed with 
 the business of which we spoke. Allah keep thee in peace$ 
 and may thy night be happy ! " 
 
 They kissed and parted at the city gate. 
 
VII 
 
 EARLY on the morning of the second day of the week 
 Said strode through the bazaars towards that familiar 
 upper room which was his shop and which would soon be no 
 longer his. His servant walked a little in advance of him, 
 using the furled parasol as a staff to admonish such of the 
 crowd as were slow to make way. All the ways were thronged 
 with noisy folk. The whole city hummed of life. Rifts in the 
 crazy roof admitted a sunbeam here and there — a bar of light, 
 hazy with dancing motes, which transfigured wayfarers for a 
 moment, causing the colours of their raiment to bloom, and 
 fade as suddenly. 
 
 Many of the traders who sat cross-legged behind the stalls 
 bordering the causeway were well-known to Said. He used 
 his right hand to salute them as he passed ; his left hung limp, 
 telling the amber beads of a chaplet. Pleasant odours assailed 
 his nostrils, for many vendors of perfumery had their shops in 
 the lane he was threading. 
 
 He was light at heart. The full tale of his fortune was to 
 be told into his hands that day, and on the morrow he would 
 dazzle Mahmud with a part of it. He remembered how Selim 
 had ever striven to dissuade him from taking this sure path to 
 glory ; and his lip curled with the blandest scorn. Selim was 
 a good man and pious ; he could be trusted to the utmost at 
 all times. But he lacked the fire and enterprise which exalt 
 one above others. Calling to mind the fable of the beggar 
 and the collar of gold, Said quaked with inward laughter. It 
 tickled him to think that such a story had been told for his 
 instruction — to him, the wiliest of men living. 
 
 A woman, cowled and veiled, stood in the way before him, 
 conversing with a tall Christian. The man was dressed in the 
 Turkish fashion, with a tight vest of murrey-colour buttoned 
 down the front, a blue zouave jacket, and a sack for trousers. 
 
 235 
 
236 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 The woman was shrouded in dull crimson — a common choice 
 of colour. They blocked Said's path in spite of the servant's 
 cry of " Oah ! " He observed them pretty narrowly in passing, 
 thinking shame that the wife of a Muslim should converse 
 with an unbelieving pig. When he was a little way beyond 
 them the voice of the woman startled him. For a moment 
 he could have sworn that it was Ferideh speaking. He turned 
 sharply to look back, but the conversation was over and the 
 woman lost to sight in the throng. 
 
 He felt uneasy. It was the hour when Ferideh and her 
 handmaid were wont to visit the bath. He had sometimes 
 remarked upon the length of time she spent there, and had 
 heard her excuses. Could it be that she was deceiving him ? 
 The more he thought of it the less likely it seemed. She had 
 been most docile of late, fulfilling his heart's desire gladly in 
 all things. Besides Ibrahim, the doorkeeper, was there to 
 watch her, and he at anyrate was trusty ; he would never suffer 
 her to go forth alone. A little reflection showed his fear 
 groundless. 
 
 A loud shout to clear the way disturbed his musing. He 
 looked and saw a rider drawing near, well seen above the 
 press of foot-passengers. The crowd parted, making way for 
 an old man of exceeding fatness mounted upon an ass, which 
 was kept at an ambling pace by the vigorous prods of one who 
 walked behind, using his staff for a goad. 
 
 "May thy day be happy, O abu KhalU!" cried Said, 
 merrily. "Whither away so early?" 
 
 The fat taverner, who of all men was used to be most 
 friendly to Said, for once seemed alarmed to encounter him. 
 He returned the merchant's greeting falteringly, as one aghast 
 at some sight of terror. He neither reined in his steed nor 
 showed the least wish to parley, but rather urged the donkey 
 to greater speed by vicious digs with the sharp corners of the 
 iron stirrups. 
 
 " Cut short thy life ! " cried Said after him. " What ails 
 thee, old man ? Surely thou art possessed with a devil ! . . . 
 Allah keep thee, O Camr-ud-din; what is amiss with thy 
 father?" 
 
 The young man stood still to scowl at the speaker. Then, 
 seized with sudden anger, he threatened Said with his stick. 
 
 "My father is a just man and honourable, and thinks 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 237 
 
 shame to speak with a murderer ! " he hissed. " Who was it 
 that slew his father shamefully for the sake of gain ? Thou 
 knowest not who it was, I warrant ! The blood of Mustafa, 
 my father's friend, is between us, O thou false saint ! " 
 
 He spat on the ground for very loathing, and so ran on to 
 catch up the donkey which, curbed only by the weak hands of 
 Abu Khalil, was making sad havoc of the crowd. 
 
 Said had shrunk back, fearing violence. For some time 
 he strove to collect his wits. Roused at length by the 
 servant's inquiries touching his health, he became aware that 
 people were staring at him. 
 
 " By Allah, it is a lie ! " he gasped. M May Allah strike 
 me dead if one word of what the dog said is true ! " 
 
 The bystanders thought him raving. They murmured of 
 compassion one to another. The servant took his arm re- 
 spectfully to lead him home ; but Said, recovering his balance, 
 shook him off and ordered him angrily to lead on. He was 
 glad to be sure that few, if any, had observed the true cause 
 of his discomfiture. 
 
 As he pursued his way through the shaded markets like 
 passages in a vast house, he pondered the words of Camr- 
 ud-din with mingled anger and distress. It was not hard to 
 guess the source of the libel. Nur had sworn to make him 
 rue the day he flouted her, and this foul slander was un- 
 doubtedly the first-fruits of her spite. The lie was chosen 
 with devilish cunning. He could by no means disprove it, for 
 there had been no eye-witness to the manner of Mustafa's 
 death. His only course was one of flat and obstinate denial, 
 and even then many were sure to think he spoke false. 
 
 But in the very midst of gloomy forebodings a droll 
 memory came to make him chuckle. He grinned broadly, 
 and his eyes twinkled under brows still lowering. It had often 
 been told him how, at the burying of Mustafa, Abu Khalil had 
 all but met his death through excess of mourning. The 
 faithful have the custom to put a little soap in their mouths 
 when attending a funeral, that the foam on their lips may 
 vouch for the frenzy of their grief. Now Abu Khalil, being 
 an elderly man and wheezy, had managed to swallow his piece 
 of soap at the very outset, before it was well melted. It had 
 stuck in his throat, choking him ; so that he flung himself on 
 the ground, spitting, coughing and struggling in mortal terror. 
 
238 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 All those who walked with him, ascribing these antics to 
 respect for the deceased, looked on admiringly ; until Camr- 
 ud-din, divining the true cause, rolled his father over and 
 thrust a finger down his throat, when they saw the fun of it 
 and fell a-quaking, exaggerating the gravity of their faces to 
 mask the untimely mirth convulsing them. 
 
 He had always felt friendly towards Abu Khahl, and to 
 know the old man's mind estranged from him was of itself a 
 cruel blow. He consoled himself, however, with the reflection 
 that on the morrow he would be the peer of princes, owning a 
 great palace, and so out of reach of the malice of these low 
 people. 
 
 No sooner did he arrive at the shop than all cares were 
 drowned in the instant bliss of counting out a great sum of 
 money all his own. His entire wealth was there before him, 
 bestowed in leathern bags whose fulness was a joy to see. He 
 abode in that upper room, drinking sherbet, smoking and 
 gloating over his riches till the fall of night, when, with the 
 help of Selim and his son, he conveyed the treasure privately 
 to the hiding-place prepared for it in his own house. The 
 delight of possessing so much made him generous, and Selim's 
 faithfulness was suitably rewarded. Said sat late upon the 
 house-top that night, looking out over the city and up at the 
 moon, a great pride choking him and bringing tears to his 
 eyes. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE moon was near the full. The city, precise in clear 
 light and velvet shadow, seemed a fantasy of carven 
 stone with its domes great and little, graceful minarets tapering 
 like spindles, and the jutting cubes of its upper chambers. 
 Seen thus from above, it had no life save that which the glow 
 from some high lattice hinted, or a group of black forms 
 motionless upon some terraced roof. The half-circle of the 
 hills closed the distance, as it were the dark rim of a cup filled 
 to the brim with moonlight. 
 
 Said's eyes strayed from the precision of the near buildings 
 to the floating mystery beyond. He was dreaming a fair 
 dream, and the realism of keen outlines hurt his eyes. He 
 sat there in the hollow of the night, and its silence talked with 
 him ; while the city murmured weary as a shell, so faintly that 
 it seemed a hush made audible. He was alone with Allah : 
 the thought hallowed his selfish ecstasy. Exultant, he lifted 
 up his heart in thanksgiving to God, who had endowed Said 
 the Fisherman with sharp wits beyond his fellows, so that, by 
 the blessing of the Most High, he was now risen to be Said 
 the Merchant, lord of a great palace, and of money enough. 
 He hugged himself for a clever one. By the Coran, there was 
 none like him in all the world ! 
 
 A sound of weeping rose from within the house. It had 
 long been audible, but he perceived it suddenly and with a 
 start. It came from the chamber where, by his order, Hasneh 
 was confined. She had been in durance except when at work 
 ever since the day of her attack on Ferideh. Always she 
 prayed to be allowed to speak with her lord, were it but for a 
 minute, but Said had been peremptory in refusal. The voice 
 of her distress broke jarringly upon his dream. His heart 
 smote him so that he frowned and cursed her under his 
 breath. The next impulse was to go down and speak kindly 
 
 239 
 
240 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 to her, to silence the one note discordant with his happiness. 
 But he was mindful of his promise to Ferideh, and, moreover, 
 was loth to move lest, by so doing, he should break the spell 
 of his lonely musing. He contented himself with a vow to 
 treat her better in the future. The new house, which would 
 be his on the morrow, was roomy enough to accommodate many 
 women. Hasneh should have a separate lodging in it, and, it 
 might be, a handmaid to wait on her. 
 
 Having given this sop to his conscience, he was falling 
 again into his waking dream of pride, when he became con- 
 scious of a soft footfall on the roof behind him. Turning, he 
 beheld Ferideh, her veil thrown back, coming towards him 
 with outstretched hands. 
 
 " O father of Suleyman ! — O my lord ! — O my dear ! " she 
 besought him. "Thou hast taken no food since the early 
 morning, and now it is sleep-time. Thou art surely famished 
 and faint with the fatigue of the day. Come down, I pray 
 thee, and partake of that which with my own hands I have 
 made ready for thee ! Ever since the sunset Suleyman has 
 been crying for thee — hardly could I coax him to sleep. 
 Come now, O star of my soul, and delay not to take re- 
 freshment ! " 
 
 " Good — I come ! " said her lord, brushing away the last 
 mists of reverie with the back of his hand. " Allah increase 
 thy wealth, O mother of Suleyman ! Now, indeed, I perceive 
 that I am hungry, though the thing had escaped my mind. I 
 will gladly go down with thee into the house for an hour, but 
 after I have eaten I must return hither. No sleep will seal my 
 eyes this night for the care of my treasure which is here be- 
 stowed. Wherefore I purpose to wrap me in a cloak and 
 abide here till daybreak." 
 
 "Now, of a truth, thy speech is not of wisdom," said 
 Ferideh, chiding, as she followed him down the stone flight 
 which climbed by the wall. "By watching thou wilt but 
 weary thyself to no purpose ; for who is likely to rob thee, O 
 light of my eyes ? I alone, of all in the house, am privy to the 
 secret of thy treasure, and I shall be with thee through the 
 night. Nay, by Allah, if thou thinkest indeed that vigil must 
 be kept, I myself will watch instead of thee. Thou hast toiled 
 all the day while I have been lazy ; wherefore thy servant is 
 now the better fitted for this duty." 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 241 
 
 Said was touched by her devotion. He blessed her, but 
 bade her speak no more on the subject for his mind was 
 made up. 
 
 In the best chamber of the harim a meal was set forth on 
 a large tray of brass, beside which was spread a square of 
 carpet. There was a savoury mess of rice and chicken meat, 
 another of beans fried in oil ; a large earthen bowl brimmed 
 with a syrup compounded of honey and the pressed juice of 
 grapes, in which were whole grapes floating. Two loaves were 
 there, as flat as pancakes, besides a little heap of figs, very 
 tempting in their purple ripeness. At sight of these dainties 
 Said's hunger strengthened apace. He took stock of them, 
 enjoying the foretaste, while Ferideh fetched a vessel of water, 
 a basin and a napkin from the antechamber. His washings 
 done, he crossed his legs upon the mat, and, leaning forward, 
 ) plunged a ravenous hand into the mess. Ferideh waited upon 
 him clingingly. Her fingers had a trick of caressing whatevei 
 they touched, of dwelling lightly for a moment as if reluctant 
 to quit hold. To watch her through the open door, bend- 
 ing languidly over a brazier where coffee was stewing, lifting 
 things and setting them down with that strange touch of hers, 
 thrilled Said unaccountably. 
 
 "Art thou still minded to keep lonely watch upon the 
 house-top to-night?" she said archly, when, having cleared 
 away the fragments of the feast, she came to nestle against 
 him. 
 
 He answered, — 
 
 " Nay, by Allah ; I have no mind to do aught save content 
 thee. Nevertheless, after I have spent an hour at thy side and 
 thy eyes grow heavy with sleep, it may well be I shall repair 
 again to the terrace. Understand, O my pearl, that my mind is 
 i anxious out of all reason. And to watch upon the house-top 
 in the cool night air seems better than to be wakeful in a 
 narrow room." 
 
 She turned her shoulder upon him, pouting, but held her 
 peace. His arm circled her lovingly. Of a sudden she 
 started away and clapped her hands in childish glee. 
 
 11 my dear, I have something good for thee ! " she cried, 
 "something sweet for thee to taste. Merciful Allah ! I had 
 quite forgotten it until this minute. Wait but a little and I 
 I will bring thee a glassful hither ! " 
 
 Q 
 
242 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 She ran from the room and shortly returned, carrying in 
 her hand a glass filled with some amber fluid. She offered it 
 to him. 
 
 "What stuff is this?" asked Said, cautiously, taking the 
 glass in his hand and holding it up between him and a candle 
 which burned on the wooden press by the wall, so that a ray 
 shone through it. 
 
 " Know, O lord of all my doings, that I, thy servant, was 
 idle after noon of this day, and I grew weary of being idle. 
 So I called Saadeh to me and took counsel what to do. And 
 it happened, by the grace of Allah, that there were many figs 
 with us in the house — of the gift of Rashid the taverner, thy 
 friend, who sent us yesterday three basketfuls. And it came 
 into my mind to make a new dainty — I mean a sherbet of 
 figs. So we made careful choice of the fruit and crushed it 
 with sugar in a little water and set it in a pan to boil. And 
 afterwards, when the mixture was cool again, we sipped and 
 found it very good. And I said in my soul, O soul, my 
 idleness has been well employed for I have devised a new 
 dainty for the mouth of my beloved, Now taste, I pray, and 
 tell me how thou findest ! " 
 
 Said sniffed at the contents of the glass and made a wry 
 face. 
 
 He said, — 
 
 "The smell of it is not good. It is perhaps some trick 
 thou wouldst put upon me for laughter's sake. Allah grant 
 it be no unclean thing or fierce drug to madden me. It were 
 a sin to make me drink wine who am preparing for the 
 pilgrimage." 
 
 But Ferideh's gaze of stricken love reassured him. Once 
 more he held the potion up to the light and looked 
 through it. 
 
 " Sherbet of figs, saidst thou ? Allah have pity ! Surely 
 it cannot be. Figs are all too fleshy to yield clear syrup 
 like this." 
 
 Terideh's voice quavered a little as she replied, — 
 
 " We strained it through a piece of new muslin, and when 
 all which would run through was collected, we took the cloth 
 with what remained therein and wrung it out over the basin. 
 Thus we obtained much syrup. O my dear lord, it is cruel 
 to tease me so; being as if thou didst doubt my care for 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 243 
 
 ihee, which Allah forbid ! I beseech thee drink and tell me : 
 Is it not good ? " 
 
 Said sipped at the lip of the glass, then worked his tongue 
 reflectively. 
 
 " It is not unpleasant," he admitted. " But, by my beard, 
 I perceive no taste of figs in it, but rather of walnuts, I should 
 say, or something of that kind. It is sweet, however, and I 
 am fain to drink it if by so doing I may pleasure thee." 
 
 At that she drew closer, with tender looks and soft speech 
 inflaming him. When he had emptied and set down the 
 glass she locked her hands behind his neck. She knelt close 
 to him upon the ground, her bosom strained to his chest so 
 that he felt its warmth. Her head was thrown somewhat back, 
 that her eyes might look into his. The poise of her head, 
 with the trail of her body along the ground, suggested a snake 
 in act to strike its prey. 
 
 He clasped her to him. " Allah is great ! " he muttered ; 
 more as a convenient explosive than for any bearing the 
 words had upon the case. He marvelled vaguely at the 
 change which had taken place in her during the last few weeks. 
 Formerly it had been hard to win the least endearment from 
 her, but now she lavished tenderness upon him at all times. 
 Once her words of love, when uttered, were spiritless, as though 
 she had them by rote; now they were impassioned even beyond 
 his own. Referring this new fire of hers to the circumstances 
 attending Hasneh's disgrace, he wondered that so slight a 
 thing should have power to change the whole nature of a 
 woman. 
 
 She went on speaking feverishly, gazing ever into his eyes 
 as if she expected something to appear there which was long 
 in coming. 
 
 A strange slumber stole upon Said. At first it was but a 
 pleasant languor. Then he grew dizzy. Things dilated and 
 dwindled unaccountably. He heard himself murmur, "O 
 garden of my delight ! " . . . and then all was a blank. He 
 knew no more until he awoke in broad daylight to find 
 Sellm bending over him with an anxious face. 
 
 " What is the hour ? " he inquired drowsily, putting a hand 
 to his forehead. There was pain like a keen dagger in either 
 temple. 
 
 "It is near noon, O my brother," said his henchman with 
 
244 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 a rueful grin. " I come from the house of Mahmud, where 
 thou hast long been expected. Merciful Allah! What ails 
 thee? Never before have I known thee lag abed. Know, 
 O my master, that Mahmud Effendi is furious at thy delay. 
 He believes that thou hast a set purpose to insult him. All 
 his father's house are gathered there to witness the sale. O my 
 eyes, come quickly and bring the money humbly in thy hand, for 
 they are very angry and would fain do thee dishonour ; but the 
 money will appease them. This is a strange humour of thine, 
 to sleep on the bare floor when there is a fine bed at hand." 
 
 Said sprang to his feet and looked about him, searching 
 every corner with his glance. 
 
 "Where is Ferideh?" he cried distractedly. 
 
 " Allah alone knows, if thou knowest not ! " retorted Selim 
 in great surprise. " When I came hither it was told me that 
 thou and she were together in this chamber, that the door 
 was made fast with a key for a token that you would not be 
 disturbed. Knowing what grave business awaited thee, I 
 presumed to break open the door. Thine was a heavy sleep, 
 O my brother, for thou heardest not the crash of it. It has 
 taken me so long to waken thee that I began to be afraid, 
 counting thee for dead." 
 
 Said did not stay to parley. Like a madman he rushed 
 out of the room, through the antechamber, and up the flight 
 of stone steps that led to the roof. 
 
 His hiding-place had been rifled. With brutal carelessness 
 the robber had omitted to replace the slab of stone. The 
 hole lay open, quite empty. 
 
 Said rent his clothes and shrieked for rage and despair. 
 Then he ran down the outer steps into the court so furiously 
 that he fell heavily at the bottom, striking his head upon the 
 pavement. His cap and turban fell off, but he knew it not. 
 He rose, a wild figure, with face all bruised and bleeding, 
 with bare head close-shaven so that the ears stuck out 
 monstrously, and ran forward shouting, — 
 
 " Where is Ferideh ? I command you, tell me where the 
 lady Ferideh is ! . . ." 
 
 But the cowering servants had no tidings of her. 
 
 "Where Suleyman? Where Saadeh?" 
 
 But there was no answer, only a cringing protestation of 
 innocence from one and all. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 245 
 
 His brain reeled. He stretched out his hands vaguely for 
 support, and with a faint cry, "Allah! Allah!" fell lifeless 
 on the pavement. 
 
 Cries of distress and horror rent the air. Selim bent 
 sadly over the form of his sworn brother. Ibrahim the 
 doorkeeper brought the turban and tarbush he had picked 
 up and placed them reverently on his master's head. Hasneh, 
 who had found freedom in the general confusion, flung herself 
 across the body in a passion of grief. 
 
 Said was carried back into the chamber where he had 
 slept so long and laid upon the Frankish bed which had been 
 his pride. A leech was called in, who bled him freely. By 
 the evening he was able to get up and take count of his 
 misfortunes. He sat on the bare stones with torn raiment 
 and ashes on his head, crying ever, " O Allah, have pity ! . . . 
 O Lord, take my life also ! * so that men wept to hear him. 
 
 By the evening, too, his story was known throughout the city. 
 Men thronged to see but the house of a man who had lost 
 his wealth and wife and son in a single night ; and Ibrahim 
 the doorkeeper became a person of great importance. Said 
 the Merchant and Ayub the Prophet were commonly named in 
 the same breath together ; and vows of vengeance were freely 
 made against the man, whatsoever his quality, who had caused 
 this great wrong to be done in the city. 
 
IX 
 
 SELIM, quite distraught with grief for his master's 
 adversity, sought the Waly, the chief of the police, 
 the Mufti, and whomsoever of the great men of the city he 
 thought could succour him. For two days he knew no rest, 
 but was ever on the run from his own lodging to the Serai 
 or the castle, and back again to Said's house. His efforts 
 were not in vain. Seeing that the whole city was moved by 
 the outrage, the authorities were strenuous in their endeavours 
 to find the culprits. A description of Ferideh and her child, 
 with such conjectures as to the appearance of her paramour as 
 could be formed from what Hasneh had to tell, were sent post- 
 haste to Beyrut and Hama, to Tarabulus, to Horns, to Haleb, 
 and to various outposts on the desert frontier. Thoughts of 
 the great sum of money the criminals had with them turned 
 each sleepy official to a hungry wolf. They were certain to 
 be taken, the head of the irregular troops told Said ; it was 
 a question of a few days at the most. He boasted that he 
 had made the whole country a net for them, and awaited 
 but a sign to haul in and take them fast in its toils. His 
 confidence was of great comfort to Said, the more so that 
 he could appreciate the metaphor. He vowed the half of 
 his wealth to those who should recover it for him ; and he 
 cried night and day upon the name of Allah, with lamentation 
 and every kind of self-abasement, so that all men marvelled at 
 his piety. 
 
 At first, as has been said, the Government was very eager 
 in pursuit of the offenders, sparing no pains to ensure their 
 capture. But by-and-by, when many days had passed and all 
 search proved fruitless, zeal began to flag. It was said that 
 the criminals were clean gone out of the country, or else they 
 must surely have been taken, with the hue and cry raised 
 everywhere. If it was Allah's will that they should escape, 
 
 24.6 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 247 
 
 where was the use in further bothering about them? The 
 man Said was left penniless, or nearly so ; and that is an ill 
 day's work which is done for thanks only. 
 
 The ruined merchant went from house to house, from 
 public office to public office, exhorting, entreating, urging the 
 need of fresh exertions. But, bringing nothing with him, he 
 met with deafness. He found high officials dozing frankly 
 over narghilehs, and came away disheartened, bemoaning his 
 lot, to return on the morrow and get angry words. Doors 
 were closed against him. Those in authority refused to see 
 him any more, and he fared no better with the underlings, 
 having no money to give. 
 
 Weary and heartsick, he at length gave up all hope of 
 redress, and turned his mind to the ordering of his affairs. 
 This was no easy matter, for the waste of the household had 
 been great. Said, though shrewd and even stingy in all 
 business concerns, was fond of display as tending to his own 
 aggrandisement, and this passion he had of late indulged to 
 the utmost. His infatuation, too, with Ferideh had cost him 
 a pretty penny. Debts of long standing, which had been 
 trifles overlooked in the day of prosperity, were heavy burdens 
 now that there was nothing to meet them. And the creditors 
 clamoured for their money — the whole sum of it ; they would 
 not hear of a compromise. 
 
 The house was his until the end of the year ; but, empty 
 and dismantled, it was a gloomy dwelling-place, having a 
 dismal echo of bygone joys. He saw himself obliged to sell 
 all that was best of the furniture, and the superfluity of rich 
 clothing he had purchased in his grandeur. He dismissed the 
 servants, all save Ibrahim, the doorkeeper, who refused to leave, 
 having grown attached to the house and taking great blame to 
 himself for the flight of Ferideh, but stayed on without care 
 of wages. He was reduced to beggary, without even the collar 
 of gold of Seam's parable to distinguish him from others in the 
 same plight. More than once it had entered his mind to 
 steal away to the coast and take ship, he cared not whither. 
 But he thought himself a marked man. For aught he knew, 
 there were spies set to watch his every movement. He dreaded 
 that mysterious net of which the chief of police had told him, 
 and, dreading, stayed to face his creditors. 
 
 But the tale of his distress is not all told. There would 
 
248 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 have been some satisfaction in haunting the taverns of the 
 city and dinning the tale of his misfortunes into all men's ears. 
 The horrified " Ah ! " and uplifted hands of his listeners 
 would have stroked his vexed soul soothingly. But even this 
 dismal gratification was denied him. A story, whose source 
 he guessed too surely, began to pass from mouth to mouth. 
 It was commonly said that Said — who now, for the first time 
 since his rise, began to be known as the Fisherman — had 
 obtained his money in the confusion of the great slaughter by 
 murdering an old man and a pious Muslim, his adopted father. 
 Men looked askance at him in the markets. In vain did Selim 
 speak everywhere on his master's behalf, giving the lie direct 
 to evil tongues ; the voice of slander was silenced only in his 
 presence, and the rumour gained ground until all men knew 
 it. Many of Said's old acquaintances drew aside their raiment 
 and passed him with averted faces. Mahmud Effendi, who had 
 paid him a formal visit of condolence in the early days of his 
 downfall, when all men pitied him, now rode by him in the 
 street with scarcely an acknowledgment of his low obeisance. 
 He skulked like a dog through the streets, seeing knowledge 
 and belief of the rumour in all eyes. 
 
 His sole resort in those days was the tavern of Rashld 
 without the city walls. There he was always welcome to what 
 refreshment he chose, and no word of the libel was ever 
 uttered in his hearing. Selim, too, took care that he should 
 want for nothing, but provided for his needs secretly, through 
 Hasneh, without himself appearing as the giver. 
 
 The month of Ramadan came; and Said, in awe of the 
 strong hand which had laid him low, disposed himself to fast 
 as he had never fasted before. All day long he abode in the 
 house, touching neither bite nor sup, praying by turns and 
 lamenting his evil day. He entered willingly into conversation 
 with no one, lest, beguiled into a moment's forgetfulness, he 
 should swallow his spittle, and so break his fast according to 
 the vow he had taken. 
 
 One evening, towards the close of the sacred month, he sat 
 upon the house-top, waiting for the gun to be fired. The sun 
 was set, and the light in the sky was as the fire of precious 
 stones — a light apart from sun, moon or stars, The first dust 
 of night gathered upon the fasting city. Said's heart expired 
 in prayer to Allah, for the stress of thirst and hunger was almost 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 249 
 
 more than he could bear. Hasneh crouched near him, watch- 
 ing him patiently with tender eyes. Thus she would sit all 
 the day through, grateful for a glance, a word, though it were 
 of anger or impatience. 
 
 The dull boom of a cannon shook the whole city, echoing 
 like far-off thunder from the encircling hills ; and immediately, 
 as if by magic, lights appeared in the galleries of the high 
 minarets, about the domes of the mosques, and in every 
 window. The fast of Ramadan was ended with the day, and 
 the feast of Ramadan would endure through the night. 
 
 " Praise be to Allah ! " murmured Said with a mighty gulp 
 He took a cigarette which lay beside him on the roof, set it 
 between his lips and lighted it, while Hasneh fetched meat 
 and drink from within the house. He ate ravenously and 
 drank half a pitcherful of water. With what remained he 
 washed himself and then performed his devotions, facing 
 south, with eyes that seemed to see the holy place of Mecca, 
 so rapt was their look. Then, with a brief word of thanks to 
 Hasneh, he descended to the courtyard and passed out into 
 the streets. 
 
 On all hands there was music and laughter, the sounds ol 
 feasting and all manner of savoury smells. The illuminations 
 of lamps and candles in every dwelling made the ways nearly 
 as bright as in the daytime. Wherever shadow was, thither 
 slunk the dogs which, with the vultures, keep Ramadan all the 
 year round. In passing the open door of a tavern he heard 
 words which staggered him. 
 
 " Where is the son of Mustafa, since thou sayest he had a 
 son ? Why does he delay to avenge his father's death ? This 
 Said has thriven too long by the profits of his crime. *I 
 mounted him behind me, and lo, he has put his hands in the 
 saddle-bags ' — thou knowest the proverb. Thanklessness is 
 common in the world, but to slay a benefactor is surely the 
 blackest of crimes. It is for the son of Mustafa to stand forth 
 and claim his life or the blood-money. Where is he, O Camr- 
 ud-din? He must be a coward or a scoundrel to tarry so 
 long!" 
 
 The voice of Camr-ud-dln was uplifted in answer, but Said 
 did not wait to hear what he said. He hurried on his way, a 
 prey to this new fear. Through all these years it had escaped 
 his memory that Mustafa had a son, Mansur, begotten of his 
 
250 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 own body. He trembled. It was time that he shook the dust 
 of Es-Sham from his feet for ever. 
 
 As he made his way through the crowd in a bright bazaar 
 he was aware of the unfriendly looks of many, and could have 
 sunk into the ground for shame. To avoid recognition he 
 crept along by the wall, yet even thus men's eyes found him 
 out and followed him. 
 
 Said one, "What shall be done to him who slew his 
 father ? O lord ! Shall he not be stoned to death ? " 
 
 " Nay, hold thy hand ! " quoth another in a tone of rebuke ; 
 "the thing is not proven against him." 
 
 Said hurried on in deadly fear. If he could only win clear 
 of the more populous streets he might reach the gardens without 
 danger of molestation. He caught sight of a group of young 
 men whom he knew for his enemies. They were of ill repute 
 in all the city for their wildness. To them it were as light a 
 thing to stone a man to death as to pelt a dog or mob a Jew 
 for pastime. They stood together before the blazing stall of a 
 sweet merchant, barring his way. He turned with intent to 
 flee, and, in doing so, ran against an old man, richly apparelled, 
 who had that moment issued from a doorway. In great con- 
 fusion, Said blurted out a form of apology. The sheykh's 
 green turban proclaimed him a holy man, and his dress bespoke 
 him some great one high in honour. He turned swiftly to 
 look at Said, and revealed the white beard and kindly face of 
 Ismail Abbas, the Sherif. He smiled at the encounter. 
 
 " Peace on thee, O fisherman," he said courteously. 
 " How is thy health ? And how do thy nets fare all this long 
 time that thou hast neglected them ? Whither goest thou ? " 
 
 Said was bowed almost to the ground. 
 
 "Allah keep thee in safety, O Emir! I was going to the 
 tavern of Rashid, which is on the river bank, but I have many 
 enemies — Allah witness, they have no cause to hate me ! — and 
 the way is hardly safe for me to go thither. It was in the act 
 to turn back that I ran against thy Worship, may Allah pardon 
 me the rudeness ! " 
 
 Ismail Abbas cast a shrewd glance round upon the by- 
 standers. Many had stayed to observe this meeting of saint 
 and sinner in the public street, and amazement, not unmixed 
 with concern, was written on their faces. The holy man took 
 Said's hand to lead him, saying loudly, — 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 251 
 
 " Now, by my beard, thou goest not to the tavern of Rashld, 
 nor anywhere else, but home with me to partake of the feast 
 which I have caused to be spread for my friends." 
 
 It was as if the Prophet himself had taken Said by the 
 hand and said, " This is a friend of mine : vex him at your 
 peril." All whom they passed in the way made low reverence 
 to the great and saintly man, and Said had a part in their 
 greetings. Of all the dwellers in Damashc-ush-Sham, Ismail 
 Abbas was esteemed most highly, both on account of his great 
 learning and righteousness, and for his family, which was among 
 the noblest of the city. To be seen walking with him, holding 
 his hand as a bosom friend, did more to establish Said's inno- 
 cence in the minds of the populace than any number of wit- 
 nesses in a court of law. When at length they gained a quiet 
 place, Said burst out weeping, and would have prostrated him- 
 self to kiss his saviour's feet had not that good man prevented 
 him. 
 
 " Nay, Allah forbid that thou shouldst fall down before 
 me ! " said Ismail Abbas, a little testily. " If thou hast any- 
 thing to be thankful for, give praise where praise is due. I 
 have done no more for thee than I would have done for a dog 
 in distress ; for the very dogs have living souls, as some have 
 said." 
 
 He led Said on by quiet ways, and, as they went, he asked 
 him strange questions out of all reason ; as, — 
 
 " Hast thou a wife left to thee in the day of thy mis- 
 fortune ? " 
 
 " There remains to me my old woman, O Emir — she who 
 was with me from the beginning, the first that ever I had." 
 
 " Then be kind to her, as thou regardest thy salvation. 
 Remember that, in the last day, the weak shall take their 
 vengeance upon the strong, the unarmed upon the armed, the 
 unhorned cattle upon the horned cattle. For Allah is just, 
 and in the end he will make the balance level." 
 
 And again, — 
 
 " Thou that art a fisherman, and knowest the ways of the sea, 
 tell me, What does a mariner when shipwrecked on the coast 
 of his own country ? " 
 
 Said reflected a minute, supposing it had been a riddle. 
 
 " By my beard, I suppose that he will praise Allah, and 
 then he will return with speed to his own place." 
 
252 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 " Good," replied the great man ; " the case is thine* A 
 while ago thou didst set out in the hope to gain honour ; but 
 now behold thou art shipwrecked. Out of thy mouth I 
 counsel thee, Take thy woman with thee and go home, return 
 to thy native place and to thy fishing, and perchance we shall 
 find thee money wherewith to buy nets and a house." 
 
 This advice did not please Said. He dreaded the triumph 
 of Abdullah, who must by this time be among the greatest 
 of his native town. However, he said nothing openly 
 to his benefactor, but feigned to fall in gladly with the 
 plan. 
 
 At the house of Ismail Abbas there was much company, 
 for the host was renowned for hospitality, and many loved 
 him. All present used Said friendly, wishing him a blessed 
 feast, and not scorning to sit at meat with him. Throughout 
 the night there was good cheer and the wisest discourse ; for 
 above all things save piety, Ismail Abbas prized wisdom and 
 learning, and his friends were chosen for their qualities rather 
 than wealth or rank. Towards morning, when men rose to 
 go, the Sherif took Said apart to speak with him alone. He 
 advised him strongly to go back to his first trade of a fisher- 
 man. Es-Sham was full of his enemies, an evil story being 
 current there concerning him. He (Ismail) had judged it 
 false from the first ; and yet many were found to put faith in 
 it. It behoved Said to leave the city as soon as the sacred 
 month should expire. 
 
 This last counsel fell in timely with the fisherman's own 
 wishes, and he promised humbly to follow it. Then, having 
 received his host's blessing, and a handsome present of money 
 wherewith to buy nets and a house, Said took his leave, kissing 
 his patron's hand repeatedly, and calling upon Allah to reward 
 his kindness. 
 
 It wanted but four hours of daybreak and the sounds of 
 revelry were growing faint and rare. Many of the candles had 
 guttered and gone out, and those which remained burned 
 dimly and awry. The stars resumed their sway and a slum- 
 brous calm wrapped the city. There would be peace now 
 until an hour before sunrise, when most men would rise and 
 eat again, to fortify themselves against the long day's fast. 
 Said met several parties wending homeward from carousals. 
 He himself went not home, but to the dwelling of Selim, where 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 253 
 
 there were lights burning. The mother of Musa opened to his 
 knocking. She peered hard at him. " Praise be to Allah ! " 
 she cried, flinging up her hands. "Deign to enter, O my 
 lord ! It is indeed the master ! Come, O Selim ! Behold, his 
 Eminence is restored to us in safety. Know, O Effendi, that 
 Selim has been greatly troubled this night on thy account, 
 because thou earnest not to the tavern of Rashid though he 
 sat there long awaiting thee. He feared some evil had 
 befallen thee; but now we behold thee safe, thanks to 
 Allah ! " 
 
 Selim rushed forward with the like expressions of joy and 
 gratitude. It was some time before Said could make himself 
 heard, for the stir of his entrance had awakened the children, 
 who screamed and roared in chorus. But at last, by the 
 exertions of Musa and his mother, the din subsided, and he 
 said, — 
 
 "After five days I leave Es-Sham for ever, and Hasneb 
 with me. By the grace of Allah, I have now a little money 
 with which we shall journey to the sea-coast, and there take 
 ship, I care not whither, so that it be far from this city of 
 falsehood." 
 
 Selim received the news with a cheerful face. 
 
 " It is but a minute since I spoke to the same purpose," 
 he said; "is it not so, O mother of Musa? Of a truth, since 
 thy ruin this city displeases me and, thanks to thee under 
 Allah, I am well provided with money, which can serve us 
 both. I thought to go into Masr — what sayest thou ? I have 
 a brother who migrated thither in the time of Ibrahim Basha, 
 when Masr was as one country with Es-Sham. He is well 
 established in the city of Iskenderia, and from time to time 
 he sends a word to me by travelling merchants. He declares 
 it to be a pleasant land, favourable for every kind of trade. 
 We will journey together, by thy leave ; Allah grant us a safe 
 voyage and prosperity in the end ! " 
 
 At that Said seized both hands of his friend and kissed 
 them, blessing Selim for a good man and a faithful — none like 
 him in all the world ! 
 
 So it came to pass, one early morning, that Said and 
 Hasneh left the great city, in the company of Selim and all his. 
 family, by the same road which Said had followed at his coming, 
 nearly twelve years before. At the brow of the hill, beside 
 
254 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 the shrine which is there, they turned to look their last upon 
 that place of gardens. Said's eyes brooded long and lovingly 
 over it, as though it had been indeed the earthly paradise he 
 was leaving ; and it was with a choking voice that at last he 
 bade Sellm lead on. 
 
THE little company journeyed but slowly, for the sake of 
 the women and children. The weather was hot and 
 breathless, as it often is at the extreme end of summer, when 
 the air begins to grow heavy with the first storm. Selim had 
 provided two donkeys to carry the baggage, and also to give 
 a spell of rest to anyone who grew weary. One bore the 
 weight of his household treasures, and his wife with her young 
 baby rode upon it when she chose. Said generally bestrode 
 the other, which was laden with his goods, while Hasneh 
 walked meekly beside ; though sometimes, feeling the need to 
 stretch his legs, he would alight and bid her take his place for 
 a time. Often he would take up one of Senm's children to 
 ride with him ; and Sehm himself, with Musa, made shift to 
 carry the others when they tired. 
 
 At first their way lay through mountains, barren and tree- 
 less, except for certain favoured nooks, where there was water 
 and deep shade of fruit-trees. Through the heat of the day 
 the landscape seemed of bronze, so massive it was and sullen 
 under the burning sky. A rare terebinth, growing high up 
 among the cliffs, was rusty black, and cast a shadow uncouth 
 as the rocks themselves. But in the early morning, what with 
 the young sunlight and the dewy shade, every boulder had a 
 charm and freshness of its own, so that the little band sang 
 blithely at setting out. And towards sundown, when the peaks 
 were all purple and gold, and the level spaces coloured like 
 flower-beds, they drank in the coolness of the evening with 
 sighs of relief. 
 
 They crossed the plain called El Bica'a, with its scattered 
 villages, and all through one afternoon they moved along in 
 the growing shadow of Lebanon. Ere noon of the next day 
 they paused on the crest of the mountain and beheld the 
 coast-plain far below them languishing in a haze of heat. The 
 
 2*5 
 
256 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 sea beyond was like a burnished sheet of silver. Said's heart 
 leapt at the familiar sheen of it, but the sight brought no en- 
 during pleasure. His native land was very dear to his soul 
 now that the time drew near when he must quit it. They were 
 now on the Sultan's highway — a great white coach-road, the 
 work of a Frankish company, whose zigzag windings could be 
 traced as a wan and crumpled ribbon down all the mountain- 
 side. Carriages dashed past them, filled for the most part 
 with Christians in semi-Frankish dress, forcing the group of 
 wayfarers to the roadside, blinding and choking them with a 
 cloud of dust. 
 
 The sun was near his setting when they reached the level 
 of the plain. On all sides there were gardens plumed with 
 date-palms, and fine stone dwellings bosomed in leafage. 
 Seaward, across the plantations, loomed a dark belt of pines. 
 A flight of bee-eaters wheeling in the flush of sunset seemed 
 /ike dead leaves the sport of a wind. The road lay straight 
 before them, stained with sunset light. There was much 
 people in carriages and on horseback — townsfolk of Beyrut — 
 come forth to taste the sweets of evening. Shadows were 
 long and grey-blue to eastward. 
 
 The sight of the palm-trees and the diffused fragrance 
 moved Said deeply. He knew that the sea was at hand — the 
 sea which he had known from babyhood, whose voice was a 
 home voice to him. Yet at that time he loathed the thought 
 of it, his heart yearning to the sweet gardens and the peaceful 
 life of a husbandman. 
 
 Weary and footsore they entered the city of Beyrut, and 
 it seemed to Said that he was already in a strange land. The 
 Frankish garb was almost as common in the streets as the 
 dress of the country, and four men out of every five he saw 
 were Christians. He had been there once before on an 
 errand of commerce, but the foreign character of the town 
 had not struck him then as now. Nearly all the houses had 
 red-tiled roofs, and the shops were of a pattern unfamiliar to 
 him. The streets were wide and ablaze with lights. Wheeled 
 carriages, each drawn by a pair of horses and driven by one 
 who sat aloft with frenzied shouting and cracking of a whip, 
 were frequent here though in the capital they were still 
 esteemed a fine rarity. He began to be afraid for the future.. 
 If he felt thus lonely in a seaport town of his own country. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 257 
 
 how could he bear to dwell in a foreign land ? He made his 
 uneasiness known to Sellm, who bade him be of good cheer, 
 for that Beyrut stood alone, the lord of all the world for 
 iniquity and unbelief. In Masr he would find it quite other- 
 wise ; there the faithful outnumbered the infidels as ten to one. 
 
 Sellm was well acquainted with the city, having often 
 visited it in the days when he was a muleteer. He led his 
 company by quiet and tortuous ways to the Muslim quarter, 
 where there was less of a foreign appearance to trouble Said. 
 They took their lodging at a khan which overlooked an ancient 
 burying-ground tufted with black cypresses. Hard by was a 
 mosque whose squat, ungainly minaret stood up against the 
 last green of evening. An owl hooted in some bush of the 
 graveyard. The place had a wistful sadness in the gathering 
 night. 
 
 After they had washed and prayed, Said and Sellm took 
 Musa with them to the guest-chamber, where they ate apart, 
 the women being entertained elsewhere in the house by their 
 own kind. The room was filled with men of all conditions, 
 from the rich merchant with his saddle-bags beside him to the 
 servant who sat or rose at his master's nod, and the muleteer 
 squatting shamefaced by the door. A portly man of middle 
 age sat with his back against the wall, sucking luxuriously at 
 a narghileh. His bright, shifty eyes were keenly observant of 
 all that went on. He looked earnestly at Said and watched 
 him all the while he was eating. At length, when the coffee 
 was brought, he coiled the tube and mouthpiece about the 
 vessel of his pipe and crossed the room. 
 
 "Peace be upon thee, O Said, O my dear!" he said 
 heartily. "Allah be praised that I behold thy face once 
 more ! How is thy health ? If Allah will, it is the best 
 possible ! " 
 
 Surprised by the warmth of this greeting in a place where 
 he was a stranger, Said eyed the man narrowly as he rose in 
 acknowledgment. Surely it could not be! — And yet, who 
 else? ... In dismay and amazement he recognised his 
 sometime friend and partner, Abdullah the fisherman. He 
 stepped aside with him. 
 
 "How goes thy business all this long time, O father of 
 Aziz ? " he asked, when the perfunctory compliments had given 
 him time to recover from the shock of the encounter. 
 
258 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "Praise be to Allah, not ill; I cannot complain, for I am 
 now high in honour in our city. It is a small city — that is 
 true — but what eminence may be attained therein I have 
 attained. There is talk of recommending me to the 
 Mutesarrif to be Caimmacam, when the time comes to make 
 a change. Of a truth, if they choose me not I know not of 
 whom they will make choice, for there is none in all those 
 parts to vie with me in wealth and consequence." 
 
 He bragged with assurance, but his dress belied his words, 
 for he was meanly clad. 
 
 "As for thee, O my soul, how fares it with thee?" he 
 inquired in his turn. 
 
 " By the grace of Allah, I thrive," said Said, casting up his 
 eyes fervently. " By the Coran, I am happiest of men. All 
 that belongs to wealth and honour and prosperity is mine, and 
 I am risen to the supreme height of my desire. And behold 
 all this is come to me because of that foul trick thou didst 
 play me years ago, O sly robber that thou art!" 
 
 "Whoever robbed thee it was not I — Allah be my 
 witness ! No, by my beard, it was some other, and that a 
 devil in all likelihood," murmured Abdullah, blandly, as if 
 disclaiming an honour one would thrust on him. " But say, 
 where dwellest thou, O my eyes ? " 
 
 " In Es-Sham — in the great city, O my dear, where I own a 
 fine house such as a prince might envy. By Allah, I am 
 become a great one in that city, which is the first of all cities 
 in the world. All the notables are my friends, and the Waly 
 himself disdains not to seek my advice in the affairs of state. 
 Allah is bountiful ! " 
 
 " Allah is bountiful indeed," said Abdullah, regarding Said 
 with a new interest. "But tell me, art thou that Said the 
 Merchant whose name is in all men's mouths ? " 
 
 " I am in truth that great one," was the reply ; " but I know 
 not what thing thou hast heard, for many lies are spoken con- 
 cerning me." 
 
 " Listen, and thou shalt hear all I know. It is but a few 
 hours since I met one who was just returned from the country 
 of Rum. And in that country he hear^l the story of Said, a 
 merchant of Damashc-ush-Sham, who was robbed by the woman 
 whom most he favoured. She caused him to drink a potion 
 wherein was a strong drug, pretending that it was a sherbet 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 259 
 
 of figs. Her lover, a young Nazarene of the same city, is 
 cunning in pharmacy, having studied here in Beyrut and also 
 among the Franks to become a chemist. It is he who gave 
 her the drug and taught her how to administer it. Her lord 
 trusted her in all things, and she was in the secret of his 
 wealth, so she robbed him easily of all that he had, and took 
 her little son and fled away with that Nazarene while he slept. 
 The cunning of the Christian — may Allah destroy him ! — 
 had caused him to make himself a French subject long ago, 
 in the year of the great slaughter when all was confusion. He 
 had a passport and Frankish clothes in waiting. To make 
 more sure, the dragoman of the consulate — who was the son 
 of his aunt on the mother's side — journeyed with them in the 
 public coach to this city, where the people of the custom- 
 house, supposing them to be Franks, let them pass un- 
 questioned, the child with them. They tell me this Nazarene 
 hates the child, which is natural, being the work of another 
 than himself. He would fain be rid of the burden, but the 
 woman will not part with it. So they took ship and came at 
 last to the country of Rum, where they now dwell in the 
 largest city, in the best manner, with all luxury. Their story 
 is known to all men, and the laugh is ever against Said .the 
 Merchant of Damashc-ush-Sh&m. . . . The Christians are 
 all wild beasts, by Allah — foul and wicked things, unclean 
 and accurst. But surely thou art not the man they tell of ? 
 Allah forbid ! It is impossible ! " 
 
 All this was bitter as death to Said. His teeth and hands 
 clenched. For a moment he thought of nothing but to pursue 
 those two who had wronged him over sea and land, to slay 
 them, if it might be, in each other's arms. He saw his son 
 attired as a Christian, despised and ill-treated by the pig, his 
 enemy. He gnashed his teeth with the knowledge that men 
 made mock of him, that his name was become a byword 
 of scoffing to unbelievers in distant lands. But he swallowed 
 the gall of his anguish as best he could. When he spoke it 
 was with a scornful countenance. 
 
 "O my eyes, a part of thy tale is true, but not all. That 
 son of a pig, that Christian of whom thou tellest did certainly 
 carry off a woman of mine, but what is that ? — I can afford to 
 replace her. As for the child, I have been concerned for him, 
 but now that I know whither they are gone I will inform the 
 
260 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Government, and it shall go ill with me but I will recover him. 
 The woman did in truth rob me of a sum of money ; but she 
 was not fully in my confidence. There were two hoards, thou 
 understandest, hidden in two separate places. She mistook 
 the lesser for the greater, and so, far from being ruined, as 
 she fondly supposed, I am now, by the blessing of Allah, even 
 more prosperous and higher in honour than I was before. 
 Allah is just!" 
 
 " Praise be to Allah ! " said Abdullah, feelingly. " I rejoice 
 with thee ; " and upon that he wished Said a happy night and 
 withdrew, saying that he must hie to bed, as he was to start 
 betimes on the morrow on his journey home. So these two, 
 so long asunder, met once more on friendly terms and 
 lied freely one to the other, neither doubting his fellow's 
 words. 
 
 Said slept ill that night. Divers projects turned in his 
 brain, distracting him. Every forward course seemed grievous, 
 fraught with danger. There was but one bright point in all 
 his weary musings as he tossed to and fro upon his pallet — the 
 face of a girl he had seen once in a garden — an English girl 
 and mistress to the son of a pig, a dragoman. He recalled all 
 that he had heard of the land of the English, and ever he 
 swore, with Allah's leave, he would contrive to go there ere 
 he died. 
 
 Selim was abroad early in the morning, for there was much 
 to be done, and in his loving care for his former master he 
 took all charge of it upon himself. First, he visited sundry 
 taverns and places of resort, publishing the news that he had 
 two fine donkeys for sale. By the third hour there was a 
 small crowd gathered at the stable, and the sale, when it took 
 place, was in the nature of an auction, one man bidding above 
 another. When that was done and the beasts had been led 
 away by their purchasers, Sellm betook himself to the 
 Serai to get permission to leave the country, and have the 
 passports put in order. He was so long absent on this 
 business that Said, who awaited him at the khan, began to be 
 uneasy. When at last he did return, the expression of his 
 face was woebegone in the extreme. Said cried out in alarm 
 to know what was amiss. Whereupon the faithful fellow 
 wrung his hands, and tears rolled down his cheeks. 
 
 " O Said ! O my brother ! Allah be my witness, I have 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 261 
 
 striven long with prayer and argument to turn their hearts; 
 but in vain. Ah, woe is me, to be the bearer of such ill tidings ! 
 Know, O my beloved, that the men of the Government gave 
 me free leave to depart with my family ; as thou knowest, I 
 have a letter which Ismail Abbas — may Allah requite his 
 honour ! — procured for me from the W&ly. But thee they will 
 by no means suffer to quit the land, both because thou hast 
 no such letter, and for some other cause which is hid from me. 
 All my entreaties, all my reasons were unavailing ; thou art 
 forbidden to travel further by order of the Government." 
 
 Fear came into Said's eyes as he heard. Heretofore the 
 Government had seemed to him remote as the sky is, some- 
 thing impassive, neither friend nor foe. He had stood in the 
 same vague awe of it that a simple man has of some mighty 
 engine whose working is a mystery to him. Now that he 
 suddenly found it his enemy, the shock was like an earthquake 
 destroying old landmarks. He remembered the dark net of 
 which the Chief of Police had spoken, and felt himself already 
 caught in its meshes. 
 
 " I must leave the country, and that at once ! " he muttered 
 fearfully. " In the old days I was known for a strong swimmer. 
 Say, O Selim, is there no ship far out in the bay, beyond 
 call of the Custom House, to which I can swim by 
 night?" 
 
 " There is an English ship, O my brother — a steamer which 
 comes hither at times with merchandise. She will depart, 
 they tell me, to-morrow after sunrise. She lies to-night in the 
 bay, but far out ; thou couldst hardly swim so far. If thou 
 trustest indeed to escape by swimming, wait two days, I pray 
 thee, until our steamer arrives, so we may yet journey to- 
 gether." 
 
 Said caught at the words "an English ship." In a flash 
 he had a vision of fair forms, and faces full of love, in a light 
 subdued and gentle — the light, as he conceived it, of 
 cloudy Lundra. The next moment he was reminded of 
 the woman who was a clog upon him, and he broke out 
 fretfully,— 
 
 "There is Hasneh, ... O Lord! . . . How may I be 
 rid of Hasneh ? I must escape at once ; this very night I 
 must swim out to the English steamer, and she alone hinders 
 
262 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 Selim heard him with mild surprise. 
 
 " She will go with me to Masr, as was at first arranged," he 
 said soothingly. " Let thy mind have rest concerning her. 
 My passport is so worded that she may journey with us un- 
 questioned. The mother of Musa will be glad to have her 
 company in a strange land, for they love one another, and 
 Hasneh is very skilful in all housework. Be assured, O my 
 brother! By Allah's leave, thou shalt find her safe when 
 thou rejoinest us yonder. But alas ! how can I part from 
 thee, O my soul ! As long as I live I am thy servant, for the 
 sake of the kindness thou hast ever shown me, from the day 
 thou didst give me that rich garment, the root of my honour, 
 to this hour. Couldst thou not swim as well to one ship as 
 to another? and what are two days that they should have 
 power to ruin thee ? I will find out some private place where 
 thou mayest be snugly hid. Allah forbid that ever I should 
 part from thee ! " 
 
 But a great unreasoning fear possessed Said, and nothing 
 which Selim could say might change his purpose. The father 
 of Musa blubbered like a baby. Said himself was deeply 
 moved, but otherwise, the dread of this instant peril swaying 
 him. Moreover, a thought of the fair ones awaiting him in 
 that distant land of the English helped somewhat to soften 
 the parting on his side. He spent the rest of daylight in pre- 
 paring for his venture. By the agency of Sellm he procured 
 a stout leathern bag of handy size, wherein he stowed all such 
 of his belongings as seemed indispensable. Of the things 
 which remained over he gave some to Hasneh and some to 
 Selim, according to their nature and use. Towards evening 
 Selim went forth to make inquiries, whilst Said did somewhat to 
 comfort Hasneh. After a very little while he came back in a 
 hurry, and with a face full of concern. 
 
 " It may not be, O my brother," he said, " thou canst by no 
 means win to the steamer. Know that there has lately been 
 much emigration — of Christians for the most part, and Druz 
 out of the mountain. It is their custom to do even as thou 
 purposedst; and to check the tide of them, a watch is set 
 upon the beach at night with orders to fire on all who take 
 the water. Allah have pity ! I know not what is to be 
 done." 
 
 Said paced the paved yard of the khan, raging like a 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 263 
 
 hunted beast at bay, while Hasneh, in hopes that she might 
 not lose him after all, sobbed with relief. At length he 
 stopped short in his prowl, and, lifting hands and eyes to 
 heaven, " Allah succour me ! " he muttered fiercely. " I will 
 take the risk of it." 
 
XI 
 
 ABOUT an hour after sundown Said took a sad farewell 
 of his friends, and, all alone, went forth to the shore. 
 He wore an ample cloak of haircloth to conceal the leathern 
 sack he carried. As he made his way through the concourse 
 of the streets his heart thumped so loudly against his ribs that 
 he thought all men deaf not to hear it. On the sea-beach, 
 where the din of the city mingled as a distant murmur with 
 the sigh of the ripples, the clamour of it filled his brain. 
 
 The wide bay lay smooth and glassy, fringed along the 
 shore with points of yellow light shining among dark forms of 
 trees and bushes. The mountains rose in outline beyond, 
 ending seaward in a bluff promontory, the lights of many 
 villages plainly seen upon the nearer slopes. A dusky bloom 
 was on all the land — the velvet of a moth's wings. The lamps 
 of the shipping had dancing pendants in the water. 
 
 Said tried to seem careless, as if he strolled for pleasure. 
 It was dark and he met no one after he had won clear of the 
 town ; but his fancy peopled every wall and garden, every 
 shrub of tamarisk to landward, with soldiers on the lookout ; 
 and in spite of all his endeavours the manner of his going 
 betrayed uneasiness. The cry of a mariner wafted across 
 the still water was startling, as if one had called him by 
 name. 
 
 He could see the English steamer, a dark mass, with a 
 funnel and three masts, lying motionless a good way out. A 
 red light in the bows shed a sparkle of rubies in the near 
 water. He strove to judge of the distance, seeking that part 
 of the shore which would most favour his project. 
 
 A ruined wall ran out a little way on to the sand. On the 
 side remote from the town he sat down and strove to think. 
 A great pulse throbbed in his brain, so that his whole frame 
 was shaken with it. The sea and the lights and the mountains 
 
 264 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 265 
 
 swam before his eyes ; the very wall seemed to rock as he 
 leaned against it. The sharp yelp of a dog among the gardens 
 rang bewilderingly in his ears. 
 
 At length, his mind growing clearer, he lighted a cigarette 
 and smoked it to the end. Then he got up and took off his 
 garments one by one, throwing some away, and binding others 
 with a sash to the well-filled leather bag. When he was naked 
 he sat down again, and, holding the bundle pressed on his cap 
 and turban, set to work to lash it to his head with strips torn 
 from his cast-off raiment. By vigorous shaking he made sure 
 it was quite firm, then he stole to the end of the wall and 
 peered cautiously forth. 
 
 Two men were approaching — soldiers with rifles on their 
 shoulders. The wall alone had prevented him from hearing 
 their voices. The place he had chosen was sheltered and 
 convenient for keeping watch upon the shore to northward. 
 It was most likely that they were making for it. There was 
 not a second to be lost. 
 
 With a bound he ran swiftly across the sand and splashed 
 in the water, dropping at once on his hands and knees. He 
 heard a shout, followed in the same minute by the report of a 
 gun. A shot whizzed past him; it played duck and drake 
 along the surface, striking up little plumes of spray. A second 
 followed, but it was wider of the mark, and by that time Said 
 was out of his depth, swimming strongly. He ducked fre- 
 quently to baffle the marksmen. A bullet, the last which was 
 fired, hit the bundle and remained bedded in it. 
 
 At first he struck out blindly, thinking only of his life ; but 
 afterwards, when the bullets ceased to whirr, he made boldly 
 for the steamer, which might then have been three-quarters of 
 a mile distant in a straight line. He could hear the soldiers 
 yelling and hallooing on the beach, but had little fear that a 
 boat would put out to intercept him, for the harbour was a 
 long way off on the left and he had passed few craft in his 
 walk along the sands. Even supposing that those in the 
 guardhouse on the quay heard the cries of their comrades 
 and understood them, it would take them some time to get 
 afloat ; and a man's head, though with a bundle lashed to it, was 
 no easy thing to mark on all the wide expanse of darkling water. 
 
 With the joy of his narrow escape yet full upon him he 
 revelled in the freedom of the cool water The little waves 
 
266 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 smote him friendly and the stars twinkled at him out of the 
 pale sky. As a boy, it had been his delight to swim out, 
 whenever a ship came to anchor off his native town, and 
 perform all kinds of antics in the sea, diving for the coins that 
 voyagers threw to him and catching them in his mouth as they 
 sank. In those days people had marvelled at his prowess in 
 the water, accounting him half a fish ; and it pleased him, now 
 that he was middle-aged and bulky, to know that he had still 
 the trick of it. He frolicked, swimming now frogwise, now on 
 this side, now on that. He turned over on his back and 
 paddled along for a few strokes in that position. Then, 
 righting himself, he splashed forward, hand over hand, like a 
 dog. But ere long he grew weary of such fancies and settled 
 down to a steady and enduring stroke which should carry him 
 to his goal. 
 
 The steamer was yet a pretty long way off when he began 
 to doubt if he would ever reach it. The smart of the brine 
 blurred his eyes. The surface of the sea seemed now all 
 starlight, anon black as pitch. He was sadly out of condition 
 and had spent the flower of his energy in wantoning. Wishing 
 to husband what strength remained to him, he slackened speed 
 somewhat. He grew numb. His eyes were blind to every- 
 thing except the steamer ; and that seemed very big, ten times 
 its natural size, filling all the horizon. His limbs lost feeling ; 
 stern resolve alone upheld him and kept him moving. The 
 ship loomed nearer all of a sudden. He plunged forward, 
 floundering rather than swimming, his mouth and nose full of 
 salt water at every stroke. It towered above him very near 
 indeed ; but all his life was gone. He knew in his heart that 
 he could never reach it. The veins of his forehead were 
 bursting, his eyes were very dim. All kinds of incongruous 
 memories thronged his brain. "Allah is just," he thought, 
 "and this is the end of me." But, a second later, he had 
 caught hold of a rope which fell from the steamer's prow, and 
 hung by it, clinging for dear life. 
 
 " Praise be to Allah ! " he murmured, quaking from head 
 to foot. Presently he raised a feeble shout. A face looked 
 down at him, then more faces — a crowd of them. Questions 
 were shouted, but he could make nothing of the jargon spoken. 
 "There is much money with me!" he cried in Arabic. "I 
 would go to the great city, Lundra of the English ! " 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 267 
 
 At that there was a great shout of laughter, and another 
 rope was flung to him, which he caught, and with which he 
 was hauled on board. Queer Frankish faces grinned at him, 
 grotesque as masks, all red and many quite devoid of hair. 
 The light of a fixed lantern sufficed to show them to him. 
 Rough hands smote his dripping shoulders hard in applause, 
 their owners roaring with laughter. In truth, he cut an odd 
 figure as he stood there stark naked and streaming wet, a 
 great bundle bound to his head with strips of calico. But to 
 Said it was no laughing matter. He sprang to anger under 
 their blows, glaring round on them with curses, and showing 
 his teeth. But they laughed all the more at his resentment, 
 slapping their knees and hugging themselves for glee. 
 
 The press about him gave way suddenly. A man came 
 forward, clad in some sort of a uniform, with a gold badge on 
 his cap. He spoke in a stern voice to the sailors and they 
 fell back sheepishly. It seemed they made excuses, pointing 
 to Said where he stood naked and shivering, his feet very 
 conscious of the smooth planks. This man, whom Said took to 
 be the lord of the ship, then addressed him in a childish sort of 
 Arabic, asking to know what he wanted ; whereupon Said told 
 a grievous tale of tyranny and wrong, such as might justify any 
 man in flight from his native land. He repeated his statement 
 that he had plenty of money, adding that he would gladly pay 
 the price of his passage to Lundra. The officer eyed him 
 doubtfully for a minute. Then, with a face of compassion, he 
 gave a gruff order to one who stood near, and Said was led 
 away to a small chamber, dim with the savoury fumes of 
 cooking, where was a fire burning. 
 
XII 
 
 NEXT morning there was a great bustle on board the 
 steamer. Said awoke in his narrow bunk to a noise of 
 splashing and scrubbing overhead. The door of the sort of 
 cupboard where he lay stood open ; now and then a man's 
 shadow darkened it in passing. 
 
 It did not take long to remember where he was. The 
 adventure of the previous night recurred vividly to his mind, 
 seeming a madman's to the sanity of early morning. He 
 marvelled at the daring of it, and then, looking forward, his 
 heart grew sick with forebodings. What future awaited him in 
 the land of the English ? It was a country favourable for all 
 manner of trade, but he carried no merchandise with him. 
 He had money, it was true, but when the price of his journey 
 had been deducted from it only a small sum would be left. 
 The fair women and girls, so easy to conquer, the chief 
 attraction of that distant shore, seemed not so very desirable 
 after all. 
 
 The great red face of a mariner looked in upon him with 
 the roar of some savage beast. Its grin was friendly and its 
 appearance cheered Said somewhat, so that, when it was 
 withdrawn, he shook off his listlessness and got up. As he 
 did so, his clothes and the leathern bag which held his treasure 
 fell on the floor, covering it almost completely, so little space 
 was there. Being naked, he had been hurried to bed over- 
 night and had quite forgotten his bundle. Someone must 
 have brought the things and laid them upon him while he 
 slept. The garments had the crispness of linen dried at the 
 fire. 
 
 An agony of fear seized him lest the sack should have been 
 rifled and his money taken out. Naked save for his skull cap 
 and turban, he knelt down in the narrow space between wall 
 and bunk, and with trembling hands loosened the mouth of 
 
 268 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 269 
 
 the bag; but a little groping reassured him. He smiled, 
 drawing forth a small but heavy pouch with a string attached, 
 which he made haste to hang as an amulet about his neck ; 
 first shutting the door so that no one passing by could 
 observe him. " Allah is bountiful ! " he murmured. 
 
 By the time he reached the deck the engines were panting 
 like some huge beast held in leash that frets to go free. A 
 crowd of little boats clung to the steamer's side, waiting to see 
 the last of her. Already the sun stood high above the ridge 
 of Lebanon, and his beams made a dazzle on the dancing blue 
 sea. The whiteness of the town, relieved by high red roofs, 
 drew the eye to the southern horn of the bay, where the waves 
 lapped its walls. Suburbs half hidden in foliage stretched all 
 along the shore at the foot of the hills. Palm-trees rose 
 conspicuous, singly and by clumps of two and three. The 
 huge mountains, as yet in shadow, filled all the background, 
 seeming very near indeed. Snow gleamed on the high, long 
 crest of Jebel Sunnln. The balm of the land and its murmur 
 were wafted on the breeze. 
 
 Said's heart went out to his native country. The sing-song 
 shouting of the sailors, the clank of a chain, the creaking 
 swing of a windlass — all the noise attendant on weighing 
 anchor sounded cruel and callous in his ears. It jeered him 
 as the voice of fate made audible. His past was slipping from 
 him irrevocably with every pant of the mighty engines, with 
 every puff of the funnel, which began to belch forth dense 
 clouds of whitish smoke that tossed seaward before it like the 
 blown mane of a horse. 
 
 The hiss and roar of the safety-valve ceased of a sudden. 
 In place of panting there was a dull, strong throb which was 
 felt in every plank and plate of the ship. The smoke from 
 the funnel wavered a moment, as if doubtful which direction 
 to take, then streamed out steadily over the stern, casting a 
 ribbon of shadow on the churned-up waters in the wake. The 
 little boats fell away from the side with men standing up in 
 them, waving good-bye. They dwindled, were left far behind, 
 and ever the throbbing grew to fuller purpose, as though the 
 ship had a soul, an imprisoned jinni toiling with bitter sobs. 
 
 Said was shortly led below to a breakfast of weird bread in 
 which was no sustenance, of butter whose exceeding yellowness 
 and bitter, saltish flavour filled him with distrust, of coffee 
 
270 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 such as he had never tasted and hoped to Allah he might 
 never taste again. There was meat also, but that he would 
 not touch, believing it to be pig's flesh or something unclean. 
 He did not dwell long upon the meal, but when he returned 
 on deck the city and the shore-line had already sunk out of 
 sight ; only the crests of Lebanon stood up sheer out of the sea 
 with white streaks of snow among them, the wake of the ship 
 stretching, an ever-widening path, to their feet. 
 
 For hours Said sat crosslegged in the lee of a cabin, 
 watching those summits dwindle and grow dreamy in the 
 distance, till at last they were no more than a thin cloud on the 
 horizon. The sailors smiled and spoke friendly to him as they 
 went about their work. He sat in the shade, with hot sunshine 
 all about him, and the eternal lapping of a sea, dead blue as 
 lapis lazuli, sounded pleasant in his ears. "O Allah! O 
 Lord, have mercy ! " was his soul's bitter cry as the coasts of 
 Es-Sham sank beneath the sea-line. And yet he felt not half 
 so wretched as he had expected. 
 
 That night a heavy thunderstorm burst, and all the next 
 day the sky was overcast with rain driving in torrents before a 
 cold wind. It was the beginning of winter, and Said shunned 
 the bleakness of the upper deck. Having paid an instalment 
 of his passage-money in advance, he was looked upon with 
 unmixed liking by the crew as an honest fellow and a queer 
 customer. Yet Said resented the rough kindness of the sailors, 
 as touching his dignity. When they smote him, as their 
 manner was, in all goodwill, he would sometimes round upon 
 them with a snarl, making them laugh as if their hearts would 
 break, and seeming only to increase their kindness for him. 
 They used his word, " Lundra," against him as a nickname ; 
 and at first he would nod and grin when they uttered it, 
 repeating it after them until they roared. But afterwards, 
 hearing it everywhere and at all hours of the day, he grew sick 
 of the sound of it. 
 
 There were two other passengers on board — men of con- 
 sequence, with whom he had nothing to do. But one of 
 them, a young man, with flaxen hair and moustache, and the 
 bloom of a ripe peach on either cheek, had a smattering of 
 Arabic and was fain to air it a little. After the storm was 
 passed and the fine weather had resumed its sway, he often 
 joined Said as he sat upon the deck and struggled to converse 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 271 
 
 with him. It was a little hard sometimes to understand what 
 he said, for all his verbs were in the imperative mood. 
 
 One morning when the steamer rode at anchor off a sen- 
 port of the kingdom of Rum, Said ventured to ask this person 
 how long it would be before they reached that great city, 
 Lundra of the English. Looking out over the crisp, blue 
 waves to a white town at the foot of violet mountains, with 
 cypresses rising gaunt among its buildings and olives silvering 
 all the slope behind, it seemed to him that they were yet a 
 long way distant from that sunless land of which the dragoman 
 had spoken. 
 
 "Two weeks and more," was the answer, "but know, O 
 effendi, that this ship goes not to Lundra but to Liverpool, 
 which is distant from it a day's journey on the iron road." 
 
 " Merciful Allah ! " Said exclaimed. " Hear now my story, 
 
 khawajah, and judge between these men and me. When 
 
 1 asked them they told me that the steamer went to Lundra, 
 and I gave them much money on that understanding. Of a 
 truth the people of this ship are all liars ; there is no vestige 
 of truth found in them. May their house be destroyed and the 
 fire quenched on their father's hearth ! " 
 
 "Nay, O effendi, they meant not to deceive thee. The 
 country of the English is a small country, and the iron road 
 brings distant places close together. Liverpool is reckoned 
 the haven of Lundra almost as Beyrut is the port of Damascus, 
 and the journey takes not so long. It was no lie they told 
 thee." 
 
 " Without doubt the right is with thee, O khawajah," said 
 Said with a semblance of conviction ; but in his heart he felt 
 bitterly that he had been beguiled. Lundra was the city of 
 his dreams, the abode of wealth and luxury, the paradise of 
 fair women partial to strangers. "Lifferbul" was quite a 
 different place. He had heard the name of it before, but 
 baldly, as of a town like another, without splendour or charm. 
 Thenceforth, aware of a plot to inveigle him thither, he saw 
 something sinister in the jovial comradeship of the sailors, 
 though cunning made him seem their friend. At length, 
 when one morning he awoke to find the steamer at anchor in 
 a fair bay whose shores were clothed with a city and its 
 suburbs, his airy scheme became an instant purpose. The 
 name of the place, he knew, was Nabuli. To southward rose 
 
272 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 a lonely peak which smoked at the top like a heap of ashes 
 * smouldering. Ships were there of every sort and size, a great 
 multitude of them, dotting the sparkling waters. Surely, 
 among them all, there must be one that was bound for the 
 greatest city of the earth. When he had prayed and broken 
 his fast he took his leathern sack privily under his robe and 
 went on deck. 
 
 A boat manned by certain of the crew was just putting off 
 for land. Said shouted to the men in it, explaining by 
 eloquent signs and grimaces that he had a mind to view the 
 town. They laughed up at him, roaring and beckoning to 
 him to make haste ; so without more ado he climbed down 
 among them and was rowed ashore. 
 
 In the confusion of landing, amid the busy throng upon 
 the quays, he contrived to escape from his fellowship. For 
 some time he dodged hither and thither, taking advantage of 
 every turning to put more walls between himself and those he 
 supposed in pursuit. His outlandish garb and the hurry he 
 was in turned many heads of the passers-by to look after him. 
 At last, finding himself again by the seaside, but at a point 
 remote from his landing-place, he fell to scanning the faces of 
 all he met, seeking someone to question. 
 
 Seeing a man of peaceful demeanour stand alone by a pile 
 of bales he inquired of him in Arabic how he might best get 
 to Lundra. "Lundra?" repeated the other after him with a 
 vacant look and a shake of the head. He smiled, however, 
 showing white teeth, and, motioning Said to stay, called to a 
 knot of men who lounged hard by. They turned their faces 
 at the call, and, seeing one so strangely clad, drew near out of 
 curiosity. Qne of them, who at first sight appeared a Frankish 
 sailor, shouted a salutation in pure Arabic spoken with the 
 accent of Masr. 
 
 Said ran to him eagerly, his question on his lips. He told 
 a fine story, how he was a great merchant bound for Lundra 
 whither his wares were gone before, how an unforeseen 
 accident, which he was at pains to specify, had forced him to 
 leave his ship, and how he would be deeply obliged to any- 
 one who would direct him to another. His hearer, taken with 
 the narrative, made ready offer of his service. 
 
 From this new friend Said learnt that there were at least 
 two vessels in the harbour on the eve of departing for Lundra. 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 273 
 
 The Egyptian pointed out a huge steamer in the offing, and, 
 upon Said shaking his head at that, showed him a sailing-ship 
 moored to the quay close by. The great merchant stroked 
 his beard and thought a minute. Then he nodded with 
 deliberation, and begged the sailor to bear him company and 
 support him at the bargain. 
 
 At first the lord of the ship looked askance at them and 
 spoke roughly to the interpreter. But by dint of long parley 
 and a little earnest-money he at last changed his tone and 
 agreed to take a passenger. Said thought him an evil man to 
 look at, for he had only one eye and his face was red, inflamed 
 with boils and spots. His voice, too, was harsh and rasping, 
 and he spoke to men as one speaks to a dog. Said confided 
 his feelings to his new friend, who only shrugged his shoulders, 
 declaring that the Franks were all like that, unmannerly, 
 possessed with the foulest of devils. As for the man's appear- 
 ance, it was from the hand of Allah, and so no blame attached 
 to him. 
 
 The ship was not to sail till the evening, so Said had some 
 time on his hands. The Egyptian led him to a tavern in a 
 narrow street, where high houses all but shut out the sky. 
 The place was kept by the son of an Arab, and most of the 
 customers were Orientals. Said, on his friend's introduction, 
 was treated with much honour; and he sat there, drinking 
 cup after cup of the coffee he loved, enjoying a narghileh, 
 until the afternoon was far spent, when the Egyptian led him 
 back to the ship. Before he slept that night he could hear 
 the waves lapping against the vessel's side, and knew that he 
 was speeding on his way to Lundra. His dreams were all of 
 fair women languishing in a chastened gloom. 
 
XIII 
 
 IT was not long ere Said regretted the step he had so 
 blindly taken and wished himself back on board the 
 steamer, let it bear him to Lifferbul or to the world's end. 
 Skipper and crew of his new transport were altogether of a 
 coarser type. Though the men grinned as they passed him 
 in their work, the laugh was at him, not to him, and it filled 
 him with distrust. 
 
 Day by day the ship leapt or glided with full sails on an 
 endless waste of waters. To Said, as he squatted on the deck 
 smoking cigarettes bought from the captain at what seemed to 
 him a ruinous price, it occurred sometimes that the vessel was 
 not moving at all, but was still with the waves racing past her. 
 The fancy amused him and he would indulge it for minutes 
 at a time until he was almost persuaded that it was so; it 
 needed a glance at the strained canvas overhead, and another 
 at the passing water, to dispel the illusion. He thought if 
 Allah would grant a man wings like the birds he saw, how 
 pleasant it would be to make long voyages, swooping down 
 when weary to close wings and rest, letting the sea rock him 
 for a little space. He considered the fishes of the deep, how 
 they swim ever under water, yet, by the great mercy of Allah, 
 are not drowned. " Allah is great ! " was the outcome of all 
 his musings. 
 
 But, as the days wore on, he grew very tired of sitting 
 alone. He would keep near the sailors and try to ingratiate 
 himself with them ; even their unfailing rudeness and the 
 horse-tricks they played him seemed better than sheer loneli- 
 ness. The shifts he was forced to make in order to say his 
 prayers undisturbed were a heavy burden on his conscience. 
 Very earnestly he besought Allah to pardon any omissions 
 in a place where clean water was hard to come by, where 
 there was no sand and but little dust to serve for a substitute. 
 
 274 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 275 
 
 Allah was merciful, he reflected, and would forgive his short- 
 comings, taking the circumstances into account. 
 
 Day by day the world grew sadder and less familiar. Skies 
 lost their lustre, the sea darkened and waxed fierce, the very 
 sun shone pale. Coasts, when sighted, were black and low- 
 lying on the edge of leaden waters heaving in eternal unrest. 
 It turned cold — more bleak than any winter. Said rubbed his 
 eyes, supposing that there was a film on them which made the 
 world seem dim. He realised that the land of the English 
 was near, the land of cloud of which the dragoman had 
 spoken ; but the knowledge brought no gladness. He grew 
 homesick, longing for a known face, for the sight of a palm- 
 tree, for a train of camels passing in the blinding sunshine with 
 sweet jangle of bells, for a word in his native tongue. 
 
 The very welkin lowered unfriendly, like a menace. The 
 wind howled as a hungry beast of prey ; the waves ravened as 
 they leapt against the ship. All things, animate and inanimate, 
 were hostile, and he saw their fury personal to himself. To 
 make matters worse, a gale arose, and he became helpless 
 through sickness. Utter despair got hold of him ; he prayed 
 ever that Allah might take his life ere he should retch again. 
 He could take no food, but a little drink. The sailors came 
 and mocked his wretchedness ; but he was too prostrate to 
 care for their jeers, only begging them to kill him where he 
 lay. 
 
 After the illness he was feeble and shaky for a day or two, 
 and felt the cold more keenly than before, though every gar- 
 ment he possessed was upon him, and a tarpaulin, which a 
 sailor in savage pity flung to him, wrapped over all like a great 
 shawl. The queer figure he cut as he tottered about shivering 
 was the butt and derision of the whole crew. 
 
 The wind abated and the sea calmed. The sun, a mere 
 ghost, looked down through worn places of the cloud-rack, 
 like a pale face pressed to a rain-smeared pane. A long, wavy 
 line of cliffs, dirty-white, blurred and indistinct in a perpetual 
 mist, was pointed out to him as the land of the English. He 
 saw it vaguely as one sees whose sight is dim with tears. All 
 his hope centred in the little money-bag at his chest; there 
 was comfort in thinking that he had enough to pay the price 
 of a return voyage to the land of sunlight. Not for a day 
 would he sojourn in this region of eternal gloaming, but would 
 
276 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 seek out a ship at once and take passage in her. There was 
 sure to be some good Muslim at the landing-place who would 
 direct him for the love of Allah and the Faith that saves. 
 
 The cliffs were gone and the ship moved along by a low, 
 marshy coast. Here and there a group of dwellings, a light- 
 house, a lonely hut broke the sullen monotony of the shore- 
 line blackly. There was land on both sides now — flat and 
 dreary, shadowed, grim and inhuman as Jehennum itself. 
 Said wondered what kind of men could dwell in that wilder- 
 ness meant for the damned. The water-way was dotted with 
 ships great and small. The sun was shining, but so faintly that 
 he hardly knew it. A few wan snakes at play upon the ripples 
 were all the brightness it gave. 
 
 Anon the gloom deepened in spite of the feeble sun and 
 became of a dull, yellowish brown. The shore drew nearer 
 on either hand. They entered a great river, populous with all 
 manner of craft — by far the greatest Said had ever seen. After 
 noon, as they still glided on, the face of the sun took on a reddish 
 hue, and the water glinted cold and coppery to its lifeless rays. 
 The world seemed dead, and the stir of human life upon it 
 loathsome as the foul brood of corruption. The river wound 
 between two banks of fog, on which strange shapes of roof and 
 chimney, tower and steeple, and the masts of ships appeared 
 carven or painted by a tremulous hand. From all sides clouds 
 of smoke arose, feeding the gloom and blending with it per- 
 petually. It was as if the whole land smouldered. Ships were 
 moored along the wharves, at the foot of huge buildings frown- 
 ing like precipices. Here and there a large steamer, lying out 
 towards mid-stream, had a swarm of small craft — lighters, 
 wherries and row boats — about her, clinging to her, trailing 
 from her like driftwood: a floating island, long and black 
 upon the burnished water. 
 
 A mighty clamour filled all the gloom and seemed a part 
 of it. The beat of hammers rang out so thunderous that Said 
 trembled to guess what made it. There was a constant hiss 
 of escaping steam, the throbbing of huge engines, the creak 
 and rattle of cranes culminating now and then in a long roar ? 
 the whistle and hoot of steamers, sounds of puffing and the 
 swish of paddle-wheels, shouts and cries of human kind. 
 Smells found their way out on to the river and dwelt there, in 
 spite of a light breeze blowing up from the sea — smells of the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 277 
 
 furnace and the tan-yard, of pitch and resin, and the prevailing 
 pungent smoke. The taste in Said's mouth was a mixture of 
 smoke and brine. He was choked, deafened, wholly be- 
 wildered. 
 
 One of the sailors, the most villanous-looking of all, who 
 had of late made friendly overtures to him in the shape of 
 devilish grins and murderous digs in the ribs, drew near and 
 smote the tarpaulin. 
 
 11 Lundra ! " he said, leering into Said's face. 
 
 " Lundra ! " echoed the passenger with a series of nods 
 and a bright display of teeth, explaining that he understood. 
 At that the mariner laughed hoarsely and began a lively panto- 
 mime, twitching Said's robe, pointing to the shore, slapping his 
 own chest, and then making as if he would embrace the fisher- 
 man. Said was slow to see the drift of all this ; the whole 
 show had to be repeated a second time. But at last he gathered 
 that this sailor of the evil countenance was his sincere well- 
 wisher and would take charge of him when the time came to 
 disembark. 
 
 The sun, swathed in smoke-wreaths, was already setting in 
 crimson when, amid hoarse shouts of greeting and command, 
 the frenzied blowing of a whistle and much flinging about of 
 ropes and chains, the ship drew up to a wharf-side. The river 
 flowed as turbid blood, parting a dark wilderness of masts and 
 rigging, of endless, shapeless buildings. Here and there a 
 pane of glass or other polished surface caught a beam and 
 sprang to lurid flame. Westward, over against the sun, a great 
 black dome brooded over the misty roofs. The din of the 
 city had a note of weariness, like the sighing of a great 
 multitude. 
 
 He shrank from landing. At least the ship was known to 
 him, familiar in its every part ; whereas this boundless, black 
 city, whose sweat was filthy smoke, frightened him as a living 
 monster lying in wait to devour. Surely it was the realm of 
 Eblis, the abode of evil spirits and of souls in torment. For a 
 long while he watched the business of the wharf, his brain ahum 
 with doubt and bewilderment, so that he could not read or 
 unravel his thoughts. 
 
 The skipper came and spoke gruffly to him, pointing to the 
 gangway. He dragged the tarpaulin from Said's shoulders 
 and flung it aside upon a heap of cordage. The Arab saw 
 
278 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 plainly that there was no choice left for him. Trembling and 
 shrinking, in his flowing Eastern dress of many colours, he 
 hurried across the plank, looking back to the ship, the scene 
 of so much anguish for him, with longing as to a well-loved 
 home. 
 
 The quay on which he found himself was a narrow one, 
 oppressed and shadowed by a great warehouse. It reminded 
 him faintly of a strip of beach at the foot of a steep cliff. He 
 could see no way from it except through the great doors which 
 yawned like caverns, showing bales of merchandise piled within. 
 He felt quite helpless, imprisoned, cut off from everywhere 
 yet within sound of a multitude. Yellow light streamed from 
 every aperture of the building before him, making shapes of 
 men fiendish as they moved in black outline across it. The 
 lapping of the ripples against the piles, which is the same song 
 all the world over, sounded more friendly than the voices of 
 his kind speaking sternly and abruptly in a foreign tongue. 
 Worst of all, no one heeded him. A chance look, a grin, a 
 shrug of the shoulders, and he was passed by, dismissed from 
 the minds of those busy workers. There was something very 
 sinister in such absorption. Feeling dazed, he stood still, not 
 knowing which way to look, the voice of the city in his ears — 
 the sullen roar of a vast, unfriendly throng. 
 
 A mighty stroke on the back roused him from torpor. The 
 sailor, who some two hours before had accosted him on the 
 deck, stood at his side, speaking rapidly in a scolding tone. 
 Then he laughed, and smote him once more between the 
 shoulders. Linking arms, he led him away by a little passage 
 Said had not perceived at the extreme end of the quay. 
 
 The streets were broad and open to the sky ; they were 
 lighted by lanterns set on high poles., The houses were tiny 
 compared with the big warehouses of the river-bank, and were 
 separated by spaces of blank wall, over which the masts and 
 spars of ships rose ghostly. The sailor led Said to a house 
 which stood, a blaze of light, at a place where three roads met. 
 Pushing open a swing-door, he dragged him into a room full 
 of men. 
 
 The brightness almost blinded Said, coming, as he did, out 
 of the dark, and the noise deafened him. A number of red- 
 faced Franks, seated on benches at wooden tables, were laugh- 
 ing and talking at the top of their voices. In his dazed 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 279 
 
 condition he saw them vaguely as a multitude of strangers 
 hostile to him. The atmosphere of the room, charged with 
 the fumes of tobacco and strong drink, was hard to breathe ; 
 only the warmth and the light pleased him. Full of distrust 
 of that noisy company, he would fain have drawn back, but his 
 friend restrained him, forcing him to a seat at one of the 
 tables. 
 
 He was aware of a crowd of faces close to his, of hands 
 tweaking his raiment, of a buzz of curiosity ending in a mighty 
 burst of laughter. Then a glass was set before him, full of 
 some amber fluid. It had an evil smell and he loathed it. 
 Remembering the potion given him by Ferideh, he had no 
 doubt but that this was in the same nature. At best it was 
 wine, a forbidden thing. They made instant signs to him to 
 drink, but he pushed it from him, shaking his head vehemently 
 and calling out that it was a sin. At that they laughed the 
 more, and he began to fear, reading mischief in their eyes. A 
 man of giant build caught hold of him and kept his hands, 
 while another flung his head back and forced open his mouth. 
 Said kicked with all his might, but his feet were powerless 
 between the legs of the table. While he was yet struggling, 
 the liquor was poured down his throat, and one held his mouth 
 shut until he had swallowed every drop, although he came nigh 
 to choking. Then he was released amid a roar of merri- 
 ment. 
 
 A second glass was presently set before him and, sooner 
 than submit to further violence, he made shift to empty it with 
 a wry face. The stuff, though nasty in the mouth, had a 
 pleasant effect, diffusing unhoped-for warmth through all his 
 body. Soon he was joining in the general laugh against him- 
 self. Just as he finished one glass there was another full to his 
 hand. 
 
 Instead of enemies he found himself among friends. He 
 could have wept for the joy he had in beholding them. In a 
 broken voice he told them all his troubles, about Ferideh and 
 his love for her, about her elopement and the evil days he had 
 known in Damashc-ush-Sham, where he had been a great 
 merchant, none like him in all that city — no, by Allah, nor in 
 any city of the earth ! It was the bald truth he was telling 
 them — by the beard of the Prophet, he was an honest man, a 
 man of consequence, and no liar 1 Whatever he said, they 
 
280 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 laughed madly ; he thought it so kind of them to laugh. His 
 eyes filled with tears as he thought on all their kindness. 
 
 His head swam queerly, and his eyes grew somewhat dim. 
 He fancied he saw a woman somewhere in the room and, with 
 a hazy remembrance of his purpose in coming to Lundra, held 
 out his arms to her enticingly. The laughter grew ever more 
 boisterous. It was very rude of them to laugh, he considered. 
 The Franks were fools, every one of them — accursed un- 
 believers having no knowledge of Allah or of Muhammed his 
 apostle. He stood up, balancing himself with difficulty, and 
 rated them soundly, cursing them for a lot of pigs and adjuring 
 Allah Most High to destroy their houses and slay their parents. 
 The next minute, he knew not how, he was sprawling face 
 downwards on the floor, and his hands and clothing were 
 coated with sawdust. They crowded about him, slapping their 
 thighs and hallooing with glee. He cursed them again, de- 
 claring that they were bad men full of strong drink, and there- 
 upon endeavoured to recite to them a passage of the Coran. 
 But one caught hold of his leg and proceeded to drag him 
 round the room, while another sat on him, using him as a sort 
 of carriage. He had no breath to resent the horse-play, but 
 could only pant beneath the weight of the man on his back, 
 emitting from time to time a feeble chuckle. 
 
 By-and-by they lifted him to a sitting posture and gave 
 him more of the burning fluid to drink. He sat for a little 
 while swaying too and fro, an insane grin on his swarthy face. 
 Seeing his cap and turban lie at some distance upon the floor, 
 he conceived an indistinct notion of trying to reach them upon 
 his hands and knees ; but they were so far off he fell asleep 
 on the way. 
 
XIV 
 
 SAID awoke to a headache and violent sickness. 
 Supposing himself on the sea in a tempest, he marvelled 
 at the quiet all about him. Presently he sat up and essayed 
 to rub his eyes, but sudden dizziness caused him to fall back 
 again with a groan. His couch was hard and wooden, like the 
 planked deck of a ship, strewn, however, with something soft 
 and powdery, like sand or sawdust. The place where he lay 
 was dark and had a nauseous smell. He was distressed with 
 thirst. "Water! — Water!" he moaned. "In the name of 
 Allah, bring me a little water ! — " 
 
 But the tones of his voice rang lonely in an empty room. 
 
 Events of the previous night loomed on his mind, as forms 
 seen gigantic through mist. Sore shame and anguish fell upon 
 him, illumined in a moment by a sudden terror. His money, 
 his last ray of hope — where was it? He felt in the bosom of 
 his robe, fingering his hairy chest frantically. The pouch and 
 the string which held it were gone — stolen ! He fumbled in 
 every part of his clothing and scoured the floor with his hands ; 
 but in vain. " O Allah, All-merciful ! — " He beat his breast 
 with hoarse cries of rage and despair. 
 
 From a trance of grief, embittered by feverish thirst, he was 
 roused by the noise of footsteps in an adjoining room. A light 
 shone yellow through a glass hatch in the wall of partition, 
 throwing long shadows of bottles upon the pane. He could 
 hear a swishing noise, as of someone sweeping diligently with a 
 broom. His eyes, sharpened by the habit of darkness, saw 
 every part of the chamber in which he lay. It was the same 
 to which the sailor had brought him. At sight of the tables 
 and benches his shame redoubled so that he wept aloud. He 
 picked up his tarbush and turban, which had been kicked under 
 a trestle, and made haste to put them on. It degraded him to 
 
 281 
 
282 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 know that he had played the buffoon, bare-headed, in the sight 
 of unbelievers. The sound of his lamentation filled the room. 
 
 A door opened and a woman looked in upon him. She 
 held a candle aloft in one hand, while with the other she 
 screened her eyes from the flame. The light reddened between 
 her fingers and shed a warm glow on her dirty face. She 
 yawned as one not yet wide awake, and spoke crossly to him. 
 He stretched out his hands, beseeching her by gestures to give 
 him to drink ; but she only grew angry, and setting down the 
 candlestick upon a bench, shook her fist in his face and nodded 
 significantly towards the door. Said strove to reason with her, 
 craving only a little water to quench the thirst ravaging him ; 
 but she cried out and pushed him from her. The noise of 
 approaching footsteps and a man's voice came to second her 
 endeavours. Hearing those sounds and dreading fresh violence 
 at the hands of the lord of the house, Said suffered the dirty 
 woman to unbar the door for him, and fled out precipitately 
 into the sharp air of the morning. 
 
 Having made a few paces, he turned with a shiver to look 
 back at the place he was leaving. It was a two-storeyed house, 
 flanked with two chimneys. A board upon the face of it 
 seemed to be painted with characters or symbols, but he could 
 not see much in the dark with only a distant lamp to help him. 
 It stood in a region of blind walls and scattered dwellings ol 
 dilapidated appearance. There was a flagstaff on the roof, 
 which made Said think it was a consulate. Beyond, the masts 
 and rigging of great ships seemed drawn with a pencil upon the 
 first pale mist of dawn. In the gloom of the door by which 
 he had come forth he descried the form of a big man in act to 
 watch him ; and he shuffled hurriedly away, his face pinched 
 with the cold. 
 
 He walked aimlessly forward, not knowing which way to 
 take, desirous only to escape from that wicked quarter to some 
 part of the city where men of honour dwelt, where he might 
 happen on a Muslim in the streets. More than once he found 
 his way blocked by a dingy wall and had to retrace his steps. 
 Many men passed him, clad in soiled garments and carrying 
 tools or sacks. They stared, turning their faces after him ; 
 but, being sleepy for the most part, they did not hinder or 
 molest him. Day broke at his back, suffusing the dun mist 
 wanly. It showed a thin dust like salt whitening the ground, 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 283 
 
 the house-tops, and along the coping of the walls. The air was 
 biting ; it stung his nostrils so that he smelt blood. To get a 
 little warmth, he tucked his hands beneath his robe and 
 stamped his slippered feet hard upon the pavement. 
 
 In the shelter of an entry he found a little dry dust, with 
 which he rubbed his face, hands and feet preparatory to saying 
 his prayers. In the midst of his devotions, however, heavy 
 footfalls sounded in the street, and a tall man, darkly-clad, with 
 a strange form of hat and a cudgel stuck in his belt, spoke 
 roughly and hit him on the back. He rose to his feet, 
 expostulating, but the man made urgent signs to him to move 
 on, and his mien was so full of authority that Said dared not 
 disregard the bidding of his outstretched hand. "Allah 
 pardon J " he muttered as he went his way, feeling that the day 
 had begun badly. 
 
 Presently he came into a spacious street, so long that he 
 could not see the end of it. The sun, just risen, looking sickly 
 through the wreathing vapours, shed a milky stain on the road- 
 way and parts of the buildings, casting the faintest of grey 
 shadows. But for gilt signs on some of the houses, Said would 
 scarcely have known that it shone at all. He strode on with 
 his back to the light, wrapped close in his long robe, trembling 
 with cold, very conscious of the inquisitive gaze of other way- 
 farers. The road was thronged with carriages, great and small, 
 of shapes unknown to him. Some were like wheeled houses, 
 crowded with people inside and upon the roof. These queer 
 conveyances pleased him by their gay colours, which he 
 admired, as he did also certain hoardings decked with painted 
 paper — as much as a hopeless and utterly destitute man can 
 admire anything. 
 
 Suddenly hoots and yells of derision struck his ears, and 
 he became aware of a horde of ragged urchins following him, 
 capering, grimacing, and howling with all the strength of their 
 lungs. They picked things out of the gutter to throw at him, 
 bespattering his raiment with filthy refuse. He rounded upon 
 them with a snarl, showing white eyes and teeth ; whereat they 
 fled helter-shelter, only to return again and pester him the 
 moment his back was turned. He looked appealingly at the 
 passers-by for help ; but they laughed for the most part, though 
 some of the women had eyes of pity, and a man who seemed 
 of rank superior to the multitude stopped and spoke sternly to 
 
284 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 the pursuers. Said was beginning to despair of ever getting 
 rid of them, when the rabble suddenly dispersed of its own 
 accord, flying this way and that like small fry at the approach 
 of some big fish of prey. Looking in astonishment for the 
 cause of his deliverance, he beheld a man in a tall, dome-shaped 
 hat and dark clothing, having a bludgeon in his belt, so like 
 the party who had cut short his orisons, that Said believed it 
 was the same. He saw in this individual, drawing near with 
 deliberate tread and solemn bearing, a high officer of the 
 irregular troops charged with the maintenance of peace and 
 order. He bowed low to the personage and invoked blessings 
 on him in passing. 
 
 In the relief of being unmolested for a while, his spirits 
 rose, and he felt almost happy. The streets grew ever more 
 crowded as he advanced. The road was filled with two 
 streams of wheeled vehicles, going in opposite directions. 
 The throng on the footway jostled and elbowed him roughly, 
 giving no more heed than the sea gives to a piece of driftwood. 
 It surprised him to see no horsemen nor pack-animals, not so 
 much as a train of mules. All was busy, yet orderly. Though 
 the press of the traffic was so great that the wheels of one 
 vehicle grated those of another, and the nose of a carriage- 
 horse was in the back of a cart in front, there was no frenzied 
 shouting, such as might have been expected, no gesticulation 
 on the part of drivers, but only a dull rumble and roar akin to 
 thunder. 
 
 A display of familiar dainties in a vast window caught his 
 eyes and held them for a while. He flattened his nose 
 against the pane, gloating on oranges and lemons, bananas 
 and pomegranates, dried figs and dates and raisins, with grins 
 of delighted recognition. He stood a long time gazing at 
 them, shouldered impatiently by wayfarers. It was with a 
 sigh that at last he turned away and pursued his endless walk. 
 
 Many women and girls passed him, clad in the immodest 
 fashion of the Franks, which excites a man by its cunning 
 suggestion of the form beneath. They wore strange headgear, 
 such as never man saw. Some were young and beautiful, so 
 that Said leered at them meaningly. One fair girl of provok- 
 ing charm, who was walking with an elder woman, laughed at 
 him and touched her companion's arm. At that Said tingled 
 in every vein, believing that she wished for him. All that the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 285 
 
 dragoman had told concerning the beauties of Lundra surged 
 gladly in his brain. His pulse quickened ; he forgot that it 
 was cold. Turning, he overtook the two women and walked 
 at the young one's side, grinning into her face, and speaking 
 words of love in Arabic. She shrank from him, pale with 
 fright, and clung to the older woman's arm ; but he kept close 
 to her, wooing her hotly with every term of endearment. 
 They hastened their steps, so that he had to run to keep up 
 with them. All at once they stopped short, and the old 
 woman, who wore a fine cloak of fur and a head-dress of many 
 colours, spoke earnestly with a tall man clad in the sombre 
 uniform already known to Said, having a high, dome-shaped 
 hat and a leather truncheon in his belt. He stepped forward 
 and seized the fisherman by the shoulders, shaking him and 
 speaking sternly to him in a tone there was no gainsaying. 
 Then, as the women made their escape, he pointed imperiously 
 up the street and gave Said a push in that direction. The 
 Muslim, completely taken aback, obeyed mechanically, the 
 policeman following him a little way to mark his behaviour. 
 
 All day long he strayed on purposeless, growing more and 
 more weary, a prey to thirst, and hunger, and intense cold. 
 After noon the gloom deepened, the puny sun becoming quite 
 obscured in cloud. He found a large piece of Frankish bread 
 in a gutter, which he ate ravenously; and a little later, by 
 good luck came to a drinking-fountain with a cup fixed to a 
 chain for the service of poor wayfarers. Feeling refreshed, he 
 prepared to face the night, and looked about for some sheltered 
 place where he might sleep undisturbed. In a square court 
 surrounded by high houses there was a sort of garden planted 
 with sorry trees and shrubs, black with the prevailing soot, 
 having seats and paved walks, and in the midst a great idol 
 upon a pedestal. He stretched himself on one of the benches 
 and composed his limbs to rest. But the cold was so great 
 that he dared not fall asleep, but was fain to get up and walk 
 again lest he should stiffen and die. 
 
 The streets by night were even more bewildering than in 
 the daytime. The long vistas of yellow lamps, branching 
 endlessly one out of another, confused his brain. Every 
 wheeled vehicle had monstrous bright eyes to frighten him. 
 The mist of light was blinding — the eternal mist of cloud by 
 day, of fire by night, from which the dull roar of traffic seemed 
 
286 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 inseparable. The crowd where no man saluted other, no one 
 looked friendly at his neighbour, but every face was grim with 
 a set purpose, seemed awful to him. He feared it with the 
 fear of evil spirits. The cries which assailed his ears were 
 mournful as a wailing for the dead. 
 
 At length, after hours of wandering, he found an archway 
 giving access to a quiet court and flung himself down in its 
 gloom, too weary to know or care that the stones were icy 
 cold. But it seemed that he had scarcely fallen asleep ere he 
 was awakened by the flash of a lantern in his face. A gruff 
 voice made a humming in his ears, and the form of a police- 
 man loomed tremendous in his heavy eyes — a dark form hold- 
 ing the light which dazed him. He struggled to his feet, and 
 seeing the enemy in the act to step forward and seize him, 
 made off through the archway and down the sounding street 
 as fast as his stiff limbs would carry him. 
 
 After that he dared not lie down again, but wandered on, 
 sometimes resting on a doorstep, sometimes leaning against 
 a wall or some railings, until a pallor of dawn appeared in the 
 east. He found a quiet place where he said his prayers un- 
 disturbed, and soon after, by the grace of Allah, lighted on 
 another crust of bread — a huge chunk on which he broke his 
 fast. Then, when the day was fully come, he entered a public 
 garden enclosed with palings and lay down upon the first seat 
 he came to. 
 
 How long he slept he could not tell, for when he awoke 
 the sky was completely overcast, and the brown fog had no 
 point of brightness to indicate the sun's whereabouts. But 
 the place where he lay was noisy with the play of ragged 
 children, some of whom fled pell-mell as his eyes opened on 
 them. His limbs were numbed so that, setting foot to the 
 ground, he had to support himself by the back of the seat , 
 and it was long ere he could walk safely. 
 
 As he issued from the garden he espied a well-known 
 object amid the hurrying crowd on the footway of a great 
 thoroughfare — a scarlet tarbush. With the strength of hope 
 renewed, he ran as fast as he could to overtake its wearer. 
 He came up with him, panting a salutation. But the face 
 turned to him was not the face of the son of an Arab, but 
 darker and of an olive tint not far removed from mouse-colour, 
 the eyes set closer together. The reply to his salutation was 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 287 
 
 in an unknown language ; it was the speech of an unbeliever, 
 in which the name of Allah did not occur. With a gesture of 
 apology, expressive also of the deepest despair, Said fell back 
 from him. 
 
 He got little heart-breaking reminders of the East from 
 the form of a building here and there, and from homely 
 objects in the shop windows. The sullen roar of the city was 
 terrible in his ears, seeming now the voice of a cruel monster, 
 now the growl of thunder — always hostile and inhuman. His 
 eyes, unused to the subdued light, unable to appreciate its 
 half tints, met a grey-brown horror everywhere. The women, 
 too, dressed to provoke desire, had a share in his loathing of 
 the scene. He would have liked to kill them for the in- 
 voluntary thrill they gave. 
 
 Men and women with great baskets crouched by the edge 
 of the roadway, selling flowers. Some of the foot-passengers 
 stopped to buy of them. Said met people with nosegays in 
 their hands, and it surprised him that they did not smeil at 
 them as folks use in the East ; but on reflection it seemed 
 likely that in this land of gloom and disappointment the 
 blossoms had no smell or, if any, a foul one. He saw the sign 
 of the cross often in all sorts of places, and spat on the ground 
 for hatred of it, cursing the religion of the country secretly 
 under his breath. 
 
 His brain grew confused. He was hunting for the sunlight 
 which was lost. Little patches of colour drew his eyes and 
 caused him a moment's rejoicing as for a treasure found at last. 
 But each disillusion left him more despairing. Of a sudden, 
 at the turning of a street, a blare of trumpets smote his ears, 
 together with the rhythmic beat of a drum. In the heart of an 
 eager, hurrying crowd, of like hue with the houses, the fog and 
 the mud of the roadway, marched a company of soldiers clad 
 in gorgeous scarlet — a hundred of them moving as one man. 
 Their brightness and the marvel of their going attracted Said. 
 He followed them spell-bound, yet with a kind of horror such 
 as one has of jin in the night-season. He knew nothing of the 
 crowd's roughness. The moving streak of red glowed like a 
 flower-bed in that sombre street — like a bed of wild anemones 
 amid the dull rocks of his native land. He battled to get near 
 to them, but could not. To his mind, unhinged by fatigue and 
 exposure* it was clear that, if only he could win to walk with 
 
288 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 them he would be saved. They were his life, his destiny, 
 and they were slipping from him. 
 
 At length he lost sight of them altogether and the blackest 
 despair took hold of him. He wandered into a region of quiet 
 streets. The air had grown perceptibly warmer since the 
 morning, and now a fine rain began to fall. Of a sudden, as 
 it seemed to him, lamps were lighted ; it was night. The sky 
 lowered as a vast cloud ; it was like a close lid oppressing him. 
 Here was a maze in a box, shut out from sun, moon and stars, 
 and he was doomed to roam in it for ever. All at once he 
 felt deadly cold ; the next minute he was burning from head to 
 foot. It occurred to him to pray to Allah ; but where was the 
 use of prayer when he was already condemned and in torment ? 
 He ceased to fight against his lot. 
 
 A host of evil spirits beset him, gibbering, snapping their 
 fingers, grinning, and mocking his wretched plight. Things 
 faded and grew dim. He knew the horror of a great army 
 coloured like blood, thousands moving in silence as one man. 
 Shrieking, he clung to some railings for protection, vaguely 
 aware that a crowd was gathering about him in a place which, 
 a minute before, had been quite deserted. Then he was back 
 again in his native land. 
 
XV 
 
 SAID raved of palm-trees and gardens, the great sunshine 
 and the inky shadows. He saw again the little house 
 among the sandhills beside a calm blue sea. There were his 
 nets spread to dry upon the beach. There was his fig-tree 
 with the gnarled boughs and trunk, and the big leaves wide 
 apart. There was the fringe of tamarisks along the shore, and 
 the little city with its dome and minaret, clear-cut upon the 
 vivid sky. He heard the distant music of bells, as some train 
 of camels or mules passed slowing among the landward 
 gardens. . . . 
 
 Suddenly there was a dun fog, effacing the vision and wrap- 
 ping him in its gloom. Lamps without number shone blurred 
 through the darkness. There was a sullen roar. He cried 
 aloud in fear, but the sound of his voice was strange to him — 
 a new terror. He grew aware of a bright and silent army, 
 streaming ever out of darkness into darkness across the narrow 
 range of his sight; tens of thousands moving as one man. 
 Their colour entranced Said, but the order of their going 
 chilled him with an eerie dread. He was awe-stricken, in the 
 presence of a force beyond man's control. He felt that, if he 
 could only draw near and walk with them, he would be informed 
 of all things concerning his lot; but his limbs were frozen 
 where he stood. He cried out upon the name of Allah. . . . 
 
 The fog melted away, the throng with it. 
 
 " Din ! Din ! Din Muhammed ! " . . . He was in the 
 streets of Damashc-ush-Sham, frenzied with the sunlight and 
 the shouting. He slew and slew, until he waded in the blood 
 of unbelievers. All at once he was confronted with an old man 
 whose name was known to him. Unthinking, he flew at his 
 throat and strangled him, flinging the body aside into an entry. 
 Then he fell a prey to the bitterest anguish, perceiving that he 
 had killed Mustafa, his adopted father. His wail tore the blue 
 T 289 
 
290 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 sky, as it had been a curtain, and dun fog poured in through 
 the rent. Again he was beset with darkness, and the shiver of 
 the silent host was upon him. He saw well-known faces in the 
 ranks : — Abdullah, Sellm, Hasneh, Ibrahim the doorkeeper, 
 Ferideh, Ismail Abbas, Mustafa, Nur, Mahmud Eflfendi. All 
 the people he had ever known passed in endless review before 
 him. They were changed to the likeness of devils, and moved 
 in silence all together, as though one will actuated them. . . . 
 Presently he was sitting alone on the deck of a ship. Anon, 
 he was drowning in the sea. Then he led a bride to his house 
 on the sands, but ere he could reach it the fog came upon 
 him. Once more there was brown twilight and that nameless 
 horror. . . . 
 
 It was late afternoon. Wintry sunlight, enfeebled by the 
 smoke-clouds, made lurid ripples on the bare white walls of a 
 spacious room lined with sick-beds. At one end there was a 
 comfortable fire burning in a recess of the wall, before which 
 three women in white caps and aprons sat at a table, convers- 
 ing in low tones. The ward was full of tossings, groans and 
 sobs of pain, relieved by the subdued laughter of the nurses at 
 their table; the roar of the city coming as a murmur from 
 without. 
 
 Said opened his eyes upon the scene, but there was no light 
 of understanding in them. He strove to raise himself on his 
 elbows, but fell back upon the pillows with a moan. When 
 next he looked there was a woman at his bedside watching 
 him. She held a steaming bowl whose contents she kept stir- 
 ring with a spoon. Her face showed neither pity nor sympathy, 
 but all her movements were deft and gentle. 
 
 While she was busy feeding him, propping his back upon a 
 heap of pillows, two men entered the room together and came 
 straight to where he lay. One of them, who was dressed all in 
 black, his face smooth save for a great tuft of hair on either 
 jaw, hailed Said courteously in Arabic, inquiring after his health 
 and commending him warmly to the mercy of Allah. Sitting 
 down on a chair by the bed he informed the invalid that he 
 had been for many years a missionary among the Arabs, and 
 wished to know if he could serve him in any way. The sound 
 of his native language seemed to gladden the sick man, for he 
 listened intently, a dreamy smile on his face ; but he answered 
 
SAlD THE FISHERMAN 291 
 
 nothing to the purpose, though his lips formed words. After 
 many fruitless efforts to chain his attention, the visitor sighed 
 and departed. He returned on the following days to meet 
 with the same disappointment. Said always listened eagerly, 
 sometimes his face wore a puzzled look, sometimes he smiled ; 
 but he never answered a word articulate. His silence was the 
 more surprising that the nurses declared him to be very 
 talkative when left alone, often muttering and exclaiming to 
 himself for minutes together. 
 
 As the days wore on his strength came slowly back to him. 
 He was able to sit up, then to walk a little way with the arm 
 of a nurse. But he took no delight in anything, seeming be- 
 wildered, as if stunned from a blow. His eyes dwelt long and 
 puzzled on every object, as though they would fathom its 
 meaning and could not. The doctor, going his round one 
 morning, took him by the shoulder and gazed searchingly into 
 his eyes. He made as if he would strike Said's face, watching 
 the patient carefully. 
 
 "An idiot," he pronounced. "The man's mind is 
 gone." 
 
 When next the person in black came to the hospital, he sat 
 not with Said, but with the doctor. The Arab was gaining 
 strength with every day. He could not remain much longer 
 in a place devoted to sick people. It seemed desirable that 
 the poor fellow should be sent back to the East, where there 
 was just a chance that he might recover his wits. The 
 missionary undertook to lay the case before the society whose 
 minister he was. He had little doubt but that the matter 
 could be easily arranged. At shaking hands, the doctor begged 
 that he might be informed if the sea-voyage and return to 
 familiar scenes wrought any noteworthy change in his patient. 
 The case was a rare one, and its peculiar circumstances inter- 
 ested him. 
 
 Ten days later, Said left the hospital, supported by the 
 man in black and another man, and was driven in a close 
 carriage to the docks. There was a film on his eyes so that he 
 could see nothing clearly. His companions talked much by 
 the way, but a dull roar in his ears made their speech seem 
 remote. He muttered often to himself; but whenever the 
 missionary addressed him, he became intent at once, listening 
 with strained attention, a faint smile on his face. 
 
292 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 His brain was still full of visions, of scenes slowly changing. 
 But from being an actor in them he was become a peaceful 
 spectator, regarding them with the interest one has in a 
 pageant. They were pleasant for the most part, succeeding 
 one another with a dream's inconsequence. Sometimes they 
 were even funny, making him laugh aloud. But there were 
 times when a cloud shadowed him suddenly and he shuddered, 
 conscious of a vast army moving evenly and in silence, held 
 together as one man by some mysterious force beyond his 
 ken. 
 
XVI 
 
 DAY by day the air grew warmer. Sky and sea put off 
 their gloom, shining ever bluer and more lustrous as 
 the sun gained in strength. Day by day, as he sat on the 
 deck of a great steamer, looking out over the restless waves, 
 Said had glimpses of remembered things, at first dimly, grow- 
 ing clearer as time went on. Once more he knew the 
 difference of day and night, could tell when it was morning, or 
 high noon, or evening ; and he observed the hours appointed 
 for prayer and thanksgiving to Allah. Scales seemed to fall 
 from his eyes so that he saw distinctly, and sought the mean- 
 ing of what he saw. The roaring in his ears dwindled to stray 
 murmurs, letting him hear the voices and sounds about him as 
 something more than mere senseless jabber. 
 
 Much of his past life came back, as a tale heard long ago ; 
 but it had no significance for him. Knowing that it concerned 
 him nearly, it distressed him that he could not guess its im- 
 port. He had the same trouble with regard to all that passed 
 on board the steamer. Everything was very hard to under- 
 stand. He would puzzle for hours over some trivial detail of 
 the scene, knowing it familiar, yet powerless to grasp its mean- 
 ing. The outer shell of form and colour held his mind and 
 prevented it from penetrating any deeper. Worst of all, he was 
 conscious of this flaw in his vision, though he strove in vain to 
 better it. 
 
 Yet, in spite of drawbacks, his heart was glad because of 
 the great sunlight and its dazzle on the sea. He would smile 
 and laugh for no reason, and would croon old songs to himself 
 where he sat apart in the lee of a cabin. Words came to his 
 lips, which somehow suited his frame of mind ; and he was 
 pleased, recognising their fitness, but the words, like every- 
 thing else, had no meaning for him. 
 
 Sometimes, glancing down at his clothing, he was almost 
 
 293 
 
294 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 convinced that it was not himself at all, but someone else 
 whom he had never known. The close-fitting trousers which 
 strained at the knees when he sat cross-legged, the loose- 
 hanging black coat with needless buttons upon the sleeves, 
 the Frankish boots so tiresome to put off and on, the hat of 
 plaited straw, bound about the crown with a black ribbon — all 
 were strange, and vexed him with misty doubts of his identity. 
 He would turn from the contemplation of them with a sigh, 
 content simply to bask in the warmth and the brightness, 
 leaving the riddle of his existence unsolved for the present. 
 
 The people of the ship were very kind to him. On all 
 sides he saw smiling, friendly faces. One man in particular 
 came often to sit with him ; who always wore black clothes 
 and dwelt in a part of the steamer whither Said was not allowed 
 to go. He spoke in a familiar tongue, and the fisherman re- 
 turned his greetings naturally, as an echo answers; but when 
 he talked at any length his speech became mere words, having 
 form and even colour, but no sense. One early morning this 
 person came to the place where Said slept, and awoke him. He 
 led him up on to the deck and showed a city resting on the 
 dimpled bosom of the sea, with minarets and domes and a 
 lighthouse, and great buildings dark beside the rising sun. And 
 Said laughed for joy, he knew not why. 
 
 The vessel entered a fine harbour, where there was much 
 shipping. As the sun got higher, the sea grew vivid blue and 
 the sands of the coast had the colour of a ripe orange. There 
 was green of foliage beyond the houses, the sky towards the 
 horizon was soft and pearly. Hundreds of little boats plied 
 upon the dancing water between large vessels which lay inert 
 and supine, like sleeping monsters. The men and boys in 
 them were gaily clad, with red caps, light turbans and clothing 
 of divers colours. Homely shouts were in the air. 
 
 Said's heart went out to the brightness of that merry scene. 
 He hated his companion all at once with a fierce and un- 
 reasoning hatred. He would gladly have slain him where he 
 stood smiling indulgently at the idiot's glee. He loathed the 
 steamer and all on board. He longed to be free of them, to 
 escape on shore and mix with those mer/ in bright apparel, 
 who were his own people. 
 
 The noise of the engines ceased with the pulse of the screw; 
 and almost directly there was a swarm of rowing-boats to the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 295 
 
 steamer's side. In one of these, Said discerned a Frank sitting, 
 dressed all in black on the pattern of the man at his side, of 
 the man he hated. He scowled at this new blot in the sunlight ; 
 and his eyes chose that boat out of all others, following it 
 closely. He saw the Frank step out and mount the ladder to 
 the deck. A minute later he shrank back with a snarl. The 
 evil one had come near, and was staring at him, grasping the 
 hand of the other man in black and speaking with him as an 
 old friend. Presently he essayed to take Said's arm to lead 
 him, but the latter sprang aside and, scrambling hot-foot down 
 the ladder, was first in the boat. 
 
 During the brief passage to the shore, his new enemy strove 
 to engage him in conversation ; but Said, absorbed in watching 
 the boatmen and listening greedily to their talk, had a deaf ear 
 for him. Arrived at the landing-place, however, he submitted 
 to be led through the lively crowd. He was as one demented, 
 laughing for no apparent reason and shouting salutations to all 
 he met. His excitement made no distinction between true 
 believers and infidels, but beamed alike upon all who wore 
 bright clothing. People turned in astonishment to look after 
 one, who, though clad in all respects like a poor Frank, and 
 walking with a well-known missionary, yet swore by the Coran 
 and accosted everyone in Arabic with a marked Syrian intona- 
 tion. 
 
 Feasting his eyes on the warm hues of the crowd and its 
 animation, Said felt that he was at home again. Great joy 
 engrossed him to the exclusion of all else in the world. He 
 forgot the existence of the man in black, ignored even his own 
 existence; content to wander on through the merry, noisy 
 streets, no matter who his guide. But at a point where several 
 ways met, the missionary tried to draw him out of the sunshine, 
 and the colours, and the shouting, into a shadowed, silent street, 
 where the houses were large and of Frankish build, with big 
 glass windows. He pulled Said's sleeve and spoke earnestly 
 to him. The fisherman stared at him without comprehension, 
 a fool's laugh dying in his throat. His glance followed the 
 guide's stretched-out hand. Something in the aspect of the 
 houses made him shiver. In a flash he had the vision of a vast 
 dun cloud and a devilish blood-coloured throng moving silently 
 through its heart. That road led somehow to it, and the man 
 in black, the false guide, was suborned to drag him thither. 
 
296 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 With the cry of a wild beast, he sprang upon the astonished 
 missionary and gripped his throat, forcing him to the ground. 
 It was in his mind to strangle him there and then, and so make 
 an end of the gloom, the silent horror and all the hideous 
 nightmare he personified. But a concourse of people clothed 
 in bright colours diverting his eyes, he quitted his hold and 
 stood up. 
 
 " Din Muhammed ! " he said, and burst out laughing. 
 
 At that the faces of the crowd changed their looks of 
 menace for those of concern. 
 
 "Run, O my uncle!" . . . "Make haste!" ... "By 
 this way!" . . . " Save thyself ! " . . . 
 
 Friendly cries came from all hands. And Said, without 
 knowing why, leapt forward with a shout of exultation, and ran 
 he cared not whither. 
 
 His Frankish hat had fallen and was forgotten. His head, 
 which had not known the razor for many weeks, bristled with 
 a shock of white hair. His beard, white also, was long and 
 unkempt. Women in shrouds of indigo, with queer cylinders 
 between their eyes, ran from him with screams of terror. 
 Brown-limbed children tumbled headlong into doorways, 
 yelling for their lives. Men in flowing robes flattened them- 
 selves against the wall as he passed, and stood to stare after 
 him, exclaiming together. Soldiers, set to keep order in the 
 streets, retired trembling to their hutches, and asked a blessing 
 on that awful runner. An old man with white hair and beard 
 bounding forward like a boy, shouting and laughing as he ran 
 . . . The apparition was new to the men of Iskenderia, and 
 they wondered what it might portend. Surely, thought they, 
 it is a madman, or some true prophet sent from Allah ! Did 
 ever man see the like? Verily the end of all things draws 
 nigh ! " . . . 
 
 Said sped on, laughing in pure joy of the sunshine and 
 the shadows, the bright hues and merry sounds of a life familiar 
 to him. Swarthy faces looked out at him from dark thresholds 
 of taverns and shops. There were donkeys, mules, camels, 
 laden with sacks and bales and panniers. There was nothing 
 sad, nothing to recall the cloud and its fear, save only a few 
 Franks here and there; and even they failed to anger him, 
 being clad not in dull raiment but in white. The sunshine on 
 the multi-coloured crowd, the chattering and gesticulation, the 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 297 
 
 blue sky, the air, the very smells were friendly, redolent of 
 home. 
 
 In a place where there was less traffic he slackened his pace, 
 panting, and found himself bathed in sweat. For the first time 
 he grew aware of the sun's beams scorching his uncovered 
 head, and instinctively he sought the shade of a wall, near the 
 shop of a petty trader. 
 
 His own cries and laughter rang yet in his ears, but hollow 
 and senseless. In the plum-coloured shade he sat down to 
 rest, his eyes dwelling on the sunlit buildings opposite. Their 
 tint against the sapphire sky made him think of barren, stony 
 hills — the sunburnt hills of Es-Sham. Of a sudden, there was 
 a swimming in his head. Sickness seized him, forcing him to 
 vomit. He groaned aloud, calling heart-broken on the name 
 of Allah and bewailing his evil day. The merchant reclining 
 at ease in the coolness of his shop hard by, hearing the sound 
 of lamentation, came forth to see who made it. He was a tall, 
 bearded man of middle life, wearing a high fez and embroidered 
 turban ; and his robe of mixed silk and cotton was green and 
 crimson striped. Seeing an old man sit there bare-headed, he 
 reproved him gravely for his folly, vowing by Allah that if he 
 got a sunstroke he could blame no one but himself. 
 
 Said raised despairing eyes to the speaker — eyes which saw 
 nothing but his own immediate wretchedness. He heard the 
 voice of Sellm cry, — 
 
 " Merciful Allah ! . . . O my master ! . . . O my eyes ! 
 O my dear ! Is it indeed thyself, and in this shameful plight ? 
 ... O mother of Musa, get food and drink ! Let Hasneh 
 make ready a pleasant bed ! Behold Said, my beloved, is 
 returned to us at the point of death, having white hair and the 
 clothes of a Frank. Praise be to Allah that he is returned to 
 us ! May Allah spare him to us, and grant him peace and good 
 health once more ! " . . . 
 
 Said heard Sehm's voice and was glad to hear it. It sounded 
 familiar, and he knew it friendly. " Praise be to Allah ! " he 
 murmured naturally. But his mind had no real knowledge of 
 Sellm, and the words were but empty sound. 
 
XVII 
 
 WHEN Said recovered of his sunstroke, he was the 
 honoured guest of the little household. Seam's love 
 for him, born years before of gratitude for the gift of a stolen 
 garment, was now doubled with the respect for one of unsound 
 mind. The whole house was Said's, the shop also and all it 
 contained. Sellm or his wife would have waited on him all 
 day long had Hasneh not forestalled them. Musa was told of! 
 to shadow him when he walked abroad, lest any evil should 
 befall him. His head and the hair of his body were shorn 
 duly according to the law, and he was arrayed in good clothes, 
 which the master of the house bought for him at no small 
 cost. 
 
 At the hour of the evening meal, when men are sociable in 
 the relief of the day's task done, Sellm would often tell his 
 children and any chance guest the story of his acquaintance 
 with Said. He would lift the brown dressing-gown with the 
 red braiding out of the chest where it was kept, and tears would 
 stand in his eyes as he showed it to the little circle, handling it 
 reverently as a precious relic. He would glance ruefully at the 
 fisherman where he sat cross-legged, muttering often to himself 
 and making strange play with his hands. 
 
 The young ones loved better to hear of the great slaughter 
 and how bravely Ahmed Pasha met his death. They would 
 clamour for their father to act the scene for them, showing 
 where the Sultan's envoy stood, where the Waly, where the file 
 of soldiers who shot him down. Musa clenched teeth and 
 hands at the point where the soldiers shirked their work, and 
 for a time doggedly refused to fire. He vowed that he would 
 rather be killed himself than slay an old man and a pious 
 Muslim to pleasure infidels. They loved that story best for 
 the fighting and bloodshed that were in it ; but Sellm liked 
 most to tell of Said the Fisherman and his great goodness. 
 
 298 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 299 
 
 Every morning, having broken his fast, Said roamed forth 
 out of the city to a place he had discovered, where there were 
 palm-trees beside a sandy road, and whence, through the dusty 
 leaves of a garden, he got a glimpse of yellow sands and the 
 dark blue sea. There, sitting cross-legged in the shade, he 
 was happy all day long, laughing and crooning to himself, re- 
 ceiving homage from the poorer class of wayfarers — camel- 
 drivers and muleteers, beggars and gipsies, snake-charmers and 
 itinerant merchants — who respected the fine robe and the 
 embroidered turban with which Selim had invested him. 
 
 He loved to watch the long trains of camels winding with 
 the road, and would strain his ears to hold the music of their 
 bells when it grew faint and died in the distance. It pleased 
 him to see big men and fat go jogging by upon small donkeys, 
 their legs distended because of full saddle-bags, their feet not 
 far from the ground. The blue-robed peasant women made 
 eyes at him as they walked with swaying bodies, sleek brown 
 arms raised like twin handles of a vase to steady the burdens 
 on their heads. Sometimes rich men on prancing horses, 
 sometimes a carriage dashed past him, heralded by an out- 
 runner with girt-up loins. He took a childish pleasure in 
 saluting these great ones, prizing a chance smile from one of 
 them more than the effusion of humbler passengers. All was 
 passionate, highly-coloured of the East. Every wayfarer was 
 merry or furious, laughing or cursing, sullen or smiling, in the 
 depth of despair or the height of glee, hot and heady as the 
 sunlight itself. But sometimes, in a minute, a deep gloom 
 would fall on him, isolating him so that he seemed to sit alone, 
 aware of the silent march of a great bright army. At such 
 moments he knew that the mystery was eternal, that it had 
 been going on unguessed through all the time he had forgotten, 
 and must go on irrevocably until the last day. He shuddered 
 when the fit left him, and it was long ere he could shake off the 
 horror of it. 
 
 Sometimes Hasneh would accompany him to his favourite 
 spot and sit near him in the shade, delighting in his childlike 
 gladness. But the wife of Sehm could seldom spare her from 
 the house ; more often it was Musa who dogged Said's foot- 
 steps and lay hid in the garden close to where he sat. The lad 
 got amusement out of his allotted task by imagining great 
 perils for his father's guest, seeing himself as rescuer dashing 
 
300 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 like a young hurricane to save him, scattering a hundred well- 
 armed men like chaff. When the sun was set and the smoke 
 from hidden dwellings curled blue upon the delicate flush of 
 evening or yellowish on the dove-grey which followed, Said 
 would rise and turn his face homeward ; he loved to spend the 
 livelong day in the open, detesting the imprisonment of four 
 walls. 
 
 For months, for years, he led this peaceful kind of life, 
 without care or thought, conscious only of the appearance of 
 things, their outward shape and colour, troubled only at long 
 intervals by the ghost of a memory. But there came a time of 
 disturbance, when the crowd in the streets wore anxious looks, 
 and men formed knots together, speaking excitedly with fierce 
 eyes. Selim, fearing a tumult, thought it wise to confine his 
 guest within doors lest he should come to harm. His loving 
 care would not trust the fisherman out of his sight. This im- 
 prisonment fretted Said, to whom the sunshine and the fresh 
 air of the gardens were become as daily food. He grew very 
 cross and irritable, and Hasneh, into whose charge he was 
 given, had to bear the brunt of all ill-humour which could hear 
 no reason. 
 
 Once when a great uproar arose in the city, Said's eyes 
 flamed suddenly and he sprang to his feet. For a moment 
 there was understanding in his face; but the fire died as 
 suddenly as it leapt up, and he fell back into the old, listless 
 bad temper. For more than a month he was constrained by 
 Seam's order, going out only occasionally, when the master of 
 the house had leisure to accompany him. He was kept in the 
 house in deep shadow, with nothing bright to look at, and time 
 hung very heavy on his hands. 
 
 One day Selim closed his shop and came to sit in the room 
 with his family. He spoke seldom, and was very grave. A 
 neighbour with a scared face looked in on them from time 
 to time, bringing tidings or feeling the need of company. 
 Through long hours there was booming of cannon, followed by 
 explosions near at hand, the crash and roar of falling masonry. 
 Said strained ears to hearken, and his face wore a puzzled ex- 
 pression, such as is often seen on faces of the blind. The firing 
 ceased towards evening, and Selim, praising Allah, went out to 
 gather tidings, but refused to take Said with him. 
 
 The next day there was no more booming, but towards 
 
SAID THE FISHERMAN 301 
 
 noon the city was filled with shouting and tumult. The whole 
 household running out to learn the cause of the din, Said was 
 left unguarded for a few minutes. They had hidden away his 
 outer garments, thinking that his love of finery would prevent 
 him from going abroad without it. But he was a match for 
 them. He knew where to find a robe — an old garment of out- 
 landish fashion, prettily bound with soiled red braid, which 
 had often been spread out before his eyes of evenings, when 
 there were guests present. He opened the chest and took it 
 out, smoothing it lovingly with a furtive glance to make sure 
 that no one saw. Then he put it on, chuckling. 
 
 Thus attired, he stole to the door and peeped out. Hasneh 
 and the mother of Musa were talking with some other women 
 a good way off. Sellm himself was nowhere to be seen. 
 Girding up his loins, Said took to his heels, laughing as he ran. 
 Clouds of smoke blurred the sky before him above the roofs ; 
 his eyes dwelt on them curiously as they did always on a new 
 thing. There was a noise of shouting in the air. 
 
 Suddenly on turning a corner he found himself in a yelling, 
 furious mob, all rushing in one direction. Fierce eyes, 
 brandished weapons, curses and a roar of shouting. It was as 
 though a door swung open in Said's brain, admitting light into 
 a chamber long shut up. Understanding flashed in his eyes. 
 
 11 Din Muhammed ! " he cried, and rushed forward with the 
 rest, only more fiercely, with more of frenzy. Even in that 
 turmoil men looked at him and, looking, made way for him to 
 pass. There was something awful in his face, a light of madness 
 or inspiration beyond their ken. He was a prophet and would 
 bring them good fortune. They pressed on behind him, shout- 
 ing louder than before. On he ran, tearing a way through the 
 crowd. At length he led them, was at their head, still rushing 
 on. 
 
 All at once cries of warning and terror arose. The crowd 
 surged backward, forsaking him. A sudden fear came upon 
 him, a shudder . . . the noiseless horror ! . . . A bright host, 
 moving together as one man, appeared out of a side street, and 
 formed a wall before him. He pressed both hands to his 
 temples, staring wildly. There was a word of command, short 
 and incisive as a pistol-shot. All the sunlight was filled with 
 yells of rage and fright. Again the word of command, followed 
 by a line of flashes and a loud report which burst his head. 
 
302 SAID THE FISHERMAN 
 
 "Din! Din! Din ! . . ." 
 
 He flung up his arms. His eyes seemed to turn over in 
 their sockets, as he fell backwards on the ground. 
 
 So the garment of the Christian missionary became the 
 death-robe of a martyr for El Islam, and the sunlight swam 
 blood-red at the last. 
 
TIME-TABLE 
 
 187 1 (end of October). Said left Damascus. 
 
 1882 (nth of June). . Riot and Massacre of Europeans at 
 Alexandria. 
 
 C882 (nth of July). . Bombardment of Alexandria. 
 
 r882 (12th of July). . Egyptian forces under Arabi evacuated 
 the town, setting fire to European 
 quarter and letting loose upon it 
 gangs of plunderers. Said met his 
 death in this riot. 
 
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