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OTIS ADELBERT KLINE

THE DRAGOMAN'S PILGRIMAGE

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First published in The Magic Carpet Magazine, January 1933

This e-book edition: Roy Glashan's Library, 2022
Version Date: 2022-11-09
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Cover

The Magic Carpet Magazine, January 1933, with "The Dragoman's Pilgrimage"



Otis Adelbert Kline wrote some half-dozen of these modern Arabian Nights tales, as told by white-haired Hamed the Dragoman, reminiscing of his youthful adventures when he was Hamed the Attar. One, "The Dragoman's Jest", was co-written with E. Hoffman Price, who died in 1988, and it is therefore still copyright.



Illustration

Two huge eunuchs at that instant leaped from
behind the curtain and pinioned Hamed's arms.



A story of the utterly strange and amazing adventure that befell Hamed the Dragoman in the holy city of Mecca.


1

YOU have been pleased to admire this green turban of mine, effendi. Perhaps you would like to hear the story of how I acquired the right to wear it, and to be respectfully addressed as "Hajji" by my fellow Muslimeen. For it was in the ultimate place of pilgrimage, the holy city of Mecca, that a strange and wondrous adventure befell me. You would hear the tale? How fortunate that we are but a step from the coffee shop of Silat, who brews the best coffee to be found in Jerusalem. Enter, effendi, in the name of Allah.

Ho, Silat! Prepare us two narghiles, packed with golden Persian leaf and scented with a dram each of the finest Neroli Enfleurage. Also brew for us coffee, bitter as faith betrayed, black as the heart of Shaitan the stoned, and hot as a blast from the keyhole of hell.

Let us take this cushioned diwan, effendi, where we can talk and smoke in comfort and privacy.

For the purpose of this narrative, I pray you think not of me as Hamed the gray-bearded dragoman, but as a tall, handsome youth with jet-black hair, flashing eyes, and the strength and bravery of the sons of the lion. Awah! Awah! That those days so soon have fled!

I have told you, effendi, of the fair Tiger Lily from far Cathay, how she helped me regain the fortune that was mine, so that I became a wealthy aga in Mosul, and how I loved and lost her. It was her loss which drove me to bibulous companionship, and to spend my gold as if I had been a sultan with rents and revenues, until one morning I woke to the realization that my wealth was wasted. My palace, slaves and household goods were sold to satisfy my creditors. Fortunately for me, however, my good friend Hasan Aga, who at one time had subsisted on my bounty, had prospered. He took me into his home, and for many days I abode with him, in sorrow and regret.

Presently, when the season for the Hajj, the Pilgrimage to Al Madinah and Mecca approached, Hasan Aga suggested that the time was propitious for me to make the journey. I would, by leaving at once, be able to join the Damascus caravan and thus make the Hajj al Akbar, the Great Pilgrimage, because in that year the Day of Arafat fell on a Friday.

When I had made due preparation, my friend pressed a hundred gold pounds on me. When I objected to taking so much money from him, he said: "I am but a tree which your bounty has planted, and this is a tithe of the fruit." So I took it, concealed it about my person, and immediately set out for Damascus, where I arrived in time to leave with the pilgrim caravan.


IN due time we reached Al Madinah, where I complied with all pious customs, visited the Prophet's tomb, the Mosque of Kuba, and the tomb of Hamzah, friend of Mohammed, on whom be peace.

We journeyed thence to Mecca, where I again went through all forms and ceremonies prescribed by the Apostle of God, may Allah bless and keep him, and where I circumambulated the Ka'abah, kissed the Black Stone, climbed the mounts Safa and Marwah, and drank the bitter waters of the holy well Zemzem. I also stoned the devil at Muna. The last stone having been hurled, I returned to Mecca for the ceremony of farewell, purposing to go from there to Jedda to see that wonder of antiquity, the sixty-foot grave of the giantess Eve, our first ancestress, on whom be peace.

As all the ceremonies of ray pilgrimage were finished, and my caravan would not start until the morrow, I was left with considerable time on my hands, so resolved to spend it strolling about viewing the sights and enjoying some of the pleasures which had been forbidden to me while I was yet a pilgrim.

I accordingly visited the great bazar called the Souk al Layl, but quickly tired of the importunities of its piratical tradesmen, who hawked tawdry trinkets and gewgaws, mementos of the holy city, at ruinous prices.

Passing thence, I entered Mecca's principal slave mart, a wide street roofed over with matting and liberally sprinkled with coffee shops. Here there were no Ferringeh consuls to frown upon the traffic, hence there was no secret bargaining behind closed gates. The human merchandise was openly displayed on benches that paralleled the walls. On the highest benches were the prettiest girls. The plain and the ugly females were herded together on the middle benches. The boys occupied the lowest seats of all.

All were decked out in bright colors, to draw the eye, and the girls wore transparent veils over their heads. This served to soften and make more alluring the beauty of the attractive one, but only accentuated the ugliness of their less-favored sisters.

Most of the slaves had been brought in from Africa, and varied in color from the light Copts down through divers shades of tan and chocolate, to the most ebon black. Among others, I noticed Gallas who chatted saucily with prospective purchasers, half-Arabian Somalis, coffee-hued Abyssinians, and ape-faced Sawahilis.

Leisurely I passed them by, pausing now and again to listen to the haggling of owners and buyers. Presently, however, I came opposite a high bench on which sat in lonely state a damsel whose dazzling beauty made me certain that Rizwan had opened the gates of Paradise and left them unguarded, so she could come forth. By comparison with even the most comely of the slave-girls I had seen before, her loveliness was as that of a precious and perfect pearl beside stones. Bright as the crescent moon of the Feast of Ramazan was her forehead, above delicately arched brows that were twin bows of enchantment. Her eyes were large and brown, the languorous lids fringed with long, curling lashes. Her nose was short and straight, with delicately formed aristocratic nostrils. The bright coralline of her lips was daintily reflected in her glowing cheeks. Blacker than a lover's night of estrangement was her silken hair. And her figure was slender and graceful as a wand of ban.

So perfect of face and form was she that I knew the ransom of an emir would not purchase her. I did not wonder that, though many stopped to stare, few felt prosperous enough to inquire her price of her owner, a grizzled shaykh who sat at one corner of the lowest bench, smoking a chibouk.

The fact that I had but fifty pounds Turkish left out of the hundred given me by Hasan Aga for my journey, placed me in the category of those who could only gaze, for I knew that as much as sixty pounds was often paid for an ordinary slave-girl. The price, then, which would be expected for this incomparable beauty, would be perhaps twenty times that amount.

Despite the fact that at least a score of loiterers had stopped to stare, the eyes of the damsel sought mine alone and held them. It seemed to me that her swift look conveyed a message—a warning of some sort—and that in that brief instant two souls looked out through their windows and communicated each with the other.

Without knowing why, I was thrilled immeasurably. Then she looked away, to glance indifferently over the crowd of loiterers. Had there been a message? It seemed to me that I must be mistaken. The eyes were not turned my way again, and reluctantly tearing my gaze from their lovely owner, I moved on.

I viewed the rest of the slave mart in a daze, scarcely seeing what I looked at, and unable to think of anything or any one except the beautiful creature who had, for a fleeting instant, condescended to notice a travel-worn pilgrim. Resolved once more to feast my eyes on her loveliness, though for me she was as unattainable as a star, I turned and retraced my steps. But when I reached the place where she had been seated I cried out in disappointment.

The bench was empty. Even the grizzled shaykh had gone.

2

AS I stood at that empty bench a feeling of desolation swept over me. I had planned a gay holiday, with perhaps a bit of arak after my long abstinence, but the mood had suddenly left me. Now I only wanted to go somewhere and sit quietly alone, to reflect on die glories of a certain pair of lustrous brown eyes.

Accordingly, I entered the nearest coffee shop and ordered pipe and cup. But the undisturbed meditation which I sought was not vouchsafed me. Even before I had my tobacco well alight, a hunchbacked, bottle-nosed camel-driver, who smelt most convincingly of his profession, seated himself beside me and saluted me with the salam, to which I could not do aught else than reply.

He was a garrulous fellow, and much of his idle talk fell on deaf ears, for though I politely pretended to listen, my thoughts were elsewhere. Presently, however, he began to speak of the paucity of beautiful slave-girls in the market at that time, whereupon my interest was aroused, and I told him I had seen one girl whose beauty was glorious enough to brighten the entire countryside, and that the only thing that deterred me from bidding for her was the fact that my purse was reduced to a mere fifty pounds Turkish.

At mention of the money, he pricked up his cars, and stated that, after all, fifty pounds was not such an inconsiderable sum, though hardly enough with which to approach the owner of so lovely a creature. He stated that he knew the shaykh, her owner, that she had not been sold, and that he was bidden to the house of the shaykh that evening, where she would dance for a few friends. If I would honor him by having dinner at his house, he would later take me to the house of the shaykh where I might see her dance. I eagerly accepted his invitation, whereupon he said he would send a slave to my khan to conduct me to his house.

Early that evening there came to my khan a Galla boy, asking for Hajj Hamed bin Ayyub. On being directed to me, he said he was from Hosayn, the camel-driver, and that he had been sent to conduct me to the house of his master.

After traversing several of the more frequented thoroughfares, my guide presently turned off into a narrow and tortuous street, unlighted, and lined by houses of the meaner sort. From this he turned into another still narrower and darker, and then into several more, until I became so confused I knew not one point of the compass from another.

I was about to ask my guide how much farther it was to the cameleer's house, when suddenly I heard a scream from a doorway at my left, and dimly made out the slender figure of a woman, struggling in the grasp of a huge, heavily-bearded ruffian.

For a moment I stood irresolute, hand on hilt, for this might be master and slave, husband and wife, or father and daughter, and in any such case it would be unlawful for me to interfere. Then the girl, espying me, cried: "Under your protection, sidi! Save me, my lord! This villain would steal me from my father's house."

At this, I drew my scimitar and leaped forward, whereupon the ruffian, seeing the flash of naked steel, released the girl and took to his heels. When I would have followed, the girl caught my sleeve and said: "Pray do not leave me, sidi. My father is away and there is none to defend me."

I sheathed my blade and watched the shadowy form of the cowardly woman-snatcher disappear around a corner.

"If you can stay but a few moments, sidi, my father will be here to protect me," the girl said.

I turned and looked down at the slight figure standing there beside me in the semi-darkness. She was veiled to the eyes, but somehow these held me—reminded me of the pair I had seen that day in the slave mart. "I am yours to command, ya bint," I replied. "But first I must send word by the slave of my friend, who waits to entertain me, that I shall be delayed."

She looked around in evident bewilderment. "What slave, and what friend?" she asked. "I see no one."

Surprised, I looked behind me, and saw that she spoke truth. The Galla boy, evidently frightened at the prospect of a fight, had disappeared. But now another figure was approaching—a tall, powerful-looking Arab in voluminous cloak and head-handkerchief. He carried a kurbaj, a heavy whip with three lashes of twisted rhinoceros hide. Striding up to the doorway, he said harshly: "What means this, daughter, that I find you in the company of a strange man before the house?"

"I pray you be not wroth with me, my father," entreated the girl in a frightened tone. "A kidnapper entered the harim and would have dragged me away with him, had it not been for this stranger, who has preserved the honor of your house."

"A kidnapper, eh? Wallah! Could I but bring him within reach of my kurbaj!" He cracked the whip significantly, with a sound like the report of a pistol. "So the stranger preserved our honor. That is a camel of a different breed than I thought. May Allah reward you, sidi. Will you do me the further honor to enter my poor house?"

"Entertainment has been prepared for me by Hosayn the camel-driver," I replied, "so if you will excuse me I will continue on my way, as I am late."

"By Allah!" he cried, heartily. "Not only will I accept your excuse, but I will myself accompany you part-way. Where is the house of this cameleer?"

At this I was nonplussed; for I suddenly remembered that the Galla boy had vanished, and that without guidance I could no more find the house of Hosayn than leap across Arafat. "By Allah, I do not know," I replied. "He sent a Galla slave to show me the way, and the fellow has fled."

"Why then, you are acquitted of responsibility to him. Come and dine with me, instead. The slave will, no doubt, inform his master that you two were beset by a score of armed men, and that you were cut to pieces. I knew these Gallas. The truth is not in them." He flung the door wide.

"Enter, in the name of Allah."

I went in. The house was a mere hovel, containing but one room, which was divided into two compartments by a curtain. My host bade me be seated on a shabby mattress in one corner, sat down beside me, and ordered the girl to bring pipes and coffee, then prepare food for us.

By the light of the candles which the girl set before us, I was able to get a good look at the features of my host. The entire lower part of his face was covered with a bright red and extremely bushy beard, which did not look natural either in color or texture. His eyebrows were so heavily blackened with kohl that their true color could not be determined. His cheeks were ruddy and puffed out like those of a man accustomed to feed well and often, thus agreeing with his thickness of waist and pudginess of fingers. His nose was flat with flaring nostrils, indicating some negroid admixture in his blood; and his brown eyes, though friendly enough, sometimes flashed forth a staring, sinister look which made me suspect that he might be a little mad.

Our pipes and coffee were brought so swiftly that it seemed to me the girl must have been a witch to prepare them in so brief a time. As she walked back and forth between the curtain and our corner, veiled, and clad in her silken harem garments, I contrasted her slim elegance with the coarseness and ponderosity of my host, and wondered how it was possible for this elephantine father to beget a daughter of such slender grace.

With a promptness which savored of magic, the girl now brought us the first course of our meal—a roasted pullet tuffed with pistachios, almonds and rice, and a dish of cucumbers.

"Bismillah!" said my host. "Eat, with health and appetite."

While we were eating, the girl began bringing in other dishes from time to time, such as egg-plant grilled, pureed, and mixed with lemon juice and sesame oil, string beans stewed in clarified butter, an excellent pilav of rice, spiced and swimming in red gravy, lamb cut in squares and grilled on skewers with sliced tomatoes, and broiled squabs perched in nests of rice drenched with clarified butter.

My host kept pressing me to eat more and more, and putting bits of food in my mouth with his pudgy and greasy fingers, until I swore by the Prophet's beard that I could not eat another mouthful. Then he clapped his hands, and the girl took away the dishes, after which she brought in pastries, sweetmeats, conserves, fruits and nuts, until as many dishes were before us as had previously been cleared away.

I had begun with a tremendous appetite, but now I looked at this array of food and groaned helplessly. Nevertheless, my host continued to press on me bits of this and that, meanwhile eating ravenously himself until I marveled at his capacity. Out of politeness I permitted him to stuff me until I was like a fowl ready for the roasting.

When he had eaten as much as he wanted, he again clapped his hands, and the girl brought basin, ewer and napkins, wherewith we removed the traces of our feast. She then brought a sherbet of pomegranate juice sweetened with honey, freshly filled pipes, and coffee.

Once, as the girl was serving me, she paused to adjust her veil, and her sleeve slipped up her arm. I noticed thereon two bright red welts, such as might have been made by a whip-lash. Instinctively my glance strayed thence to the kurbaj which my huge friend kept constantly across his knees, and the thought flashed through my mind that this must be a most cruel and tyrannous father.

By the time we had smoked and talked a while, half of the night had flown, and I arose to take leave of my host. He pressed me to spend the night with him, but I told him I must get to my khan, as I was leaving for Jedda early in the morning. At this, he assented and arose to wish me Godspeed and a safe and pleasant journey, but I noticed in his eyes that strange and sinister expression which had at first led me to suspect him of being a little mad. Then I suddenly recalled that I had not tendered the customary guest-gift, and sensed that he was waiting for it.

I had nothing of value with me except my weapons, clothing, and gold pieces, which latter were distributed about my person in lots of five pounds each, knotted in silken handkerchiefs. Although I had been most sumptuously entertained, I considered that no more than the worth of a single gold piece had been eaten, and that therefore if I tendered five it would be a magnificent and princely gesture. Accordingly, I reached beneath my sash and drew forth one of the gold-lad en handkerchiefs, which I handed to him, saying: "In memory of my generous and lordly entertainment, I pray you accept this trifling gift, and if it pleases you, let it be used to buy something in the bazar for your daughter who served us so well."

He hefted it in his palm so that the gold pieces clinked together, and asked: "What's this?"

"Gold," I replied.

"It seems a trifle light for gold," he returned, still juggling it in his hand. "What is the value?"

"Five pounds," I answered.

At this, the mad look suddenly flashed from his eyes and he flung the gift so it struck me heavily in die chest. "O niggard!" he roared, clutching his whip until his knuckles stood out as white knobs on his fist. "What guest-gift is this? Did I not set before you a meal fit for a sultan? Did I stint in my entertainment of you, and cease to press food on you before you had cried: 'Enough'? Did not my own daughter serve you? Did I not place my house and all in it at your disposal?"

"I grant you all this," I replied, seek-ing to pacify him, "yet I am a poor man, and gave you what I could. Had I been an emir, or the Grand Sharif—"

"Enough, O miserable and misbegotten miser," he interrupted. "Your guest-gift shall be fifty pounds, no less, and you will pay it now."

"For fifty pounds I could buy a dozen hovels like this, and sell them to the infidels for pig-sties," I rashly retorted.

"Woe to you, O money-grubber! Do you not know who I am?" he demanded.

"I am rich in nothing except ignorance," I replied.

"I am he who is called Abu al Kurbaj," he said, watching me narrowly to note the effect of this disclosure. "No doubt you have heard of me."

Indeed I had heard of him: Abu al Kurbaj, or Father of the Whip, the scourge of the pilgrims who, during and after pilgrimage, were lured into his power, cruelly treated, and after being robbed of all they possessed, left to beg or starve. I had heard a thousand talcs of his cunning and cruelty which had made him notorious throughout all Islam.

Knowing myself to be in the clutches of this avaricious bird of prey, my heart sank. However, I succeeded in keeping my features unperturbed so his searching eyes might not read the fear I felt. Stooping, I retrieved my gold pieces and thrust them back under my sash. "Since you decline my guest-gift," I said, "I will take it with me." With this, I started toward the door.

Suddenly the huge bulk of Abu al Kurbaj barred my way. Then his whip lashed out and cut me across the face. With the pain and indignity of that blow fear left me, and was supplanted by rage. I whipped out my scimitar and drew it back for a stroke that would have terminated the career of that vile malefactor then and there, had not two huge Abyssinian eunuchs at that instant leaped from behind the curtain and pinioned my arms. Abu al Kurbaj laughed and lashed me again and again, while I struggled desperately to throw off my assailants. But those two black shaitans clung to me like Eblis to the tail of Noah's ass when he entered the Ark.

Presently they succeeded in tripping me and throwing me to the floor. Then they removed my weapons, bound me hand and foot, and searched me until all my gold had been brought out and emptied on the floor. Abu al Kurbaj counted it gloatingly, then knotted it all into one handkerchief and thrust it into his sash. "And now, O close-fisted dog," he roared at me, "you will be paid for your miserly conduct. You had with you fifty gold pieces, yet, after being entertained like a grandee, you tendered but five. For each of the forty and five you withheld you will receive three lashes with the kurbaj."

With this, he ordered his servants to bare my torso, and rolling back his sleeve, disclosed a brawny arm on which the muscles were huge knots and the cords were like cables.

At this instant the girl came out from behind the curtain, and interceded for me. "Torture him not, I pray you, my father," she pleaded. "Remember your promise. You have his gold. What then can it avail you to make him suffer?"

For answer, he struck viciously at her with the whip. The lashes wound around her slender waist. She uttered a single shriek and fainted away.

With an ugly laugh, the Father of the Whip now turned his attention once more to me. I gritted my teeth as the heavy lashes bit into my back, tearing away skin and making the blood spurt at every stroke. I had meant to utter no sound or make no sign, but despite my utmost exercise of will-power, I was unable to keep from moaning and writhing as the burning agony increased with each blow.

Presently, when my persecutor saw that I was about to swoon away from torture and loss of blood, he stopped lashing me and ordered one of the eunuchs to rub the wounds with salt. This intensified the burning at least tenfold, and revived me so that I cursed my tormenters even with the curse of Ad and Thamud. But Abu al Kurbaj only laughed, and once more applied the whip. At length, in spite of the salt, I felt the faintness returning, and made certain of death. Then I plunged into a merciful oblivion.

3

WHEN consciousness returned to me, the burning agony of my hurts had turned to a dull ache, and I was shivering with cold. I sat up at the cost of a terrific pain in my back, and discovered two things simultaneously—that I was stark naked, and in a cemetery. Stars twinkled overhead, and the gibbous moon, hanging just above the mountains that walled the horizon, cast weird shadows among the tombstones.

Though I was so weak I coo Id scarcely sit up, I could not bear the thought of lying there unclad among the graves any longer. Also I feared death from cold and exposure. So, despite the pain any movement cost me, I caught hold of a marble shaft for support and drew myself erect. Then, marshaling what little strength I could command, and calling upon Almighty Allah for aid, I set off, stumbling over graves and markers, and staggering from weakness, not knowing in what direction I was going but only concerned with getting out of that place as quickly as possible.

Time and again I fell from weakness, only to drag myself erect by clinging to the nearest monument to which I could crawl, and totter onward. Presently, after at least an hour of wandering, I emerged from among the graves onto a road. Here my strength gave out completely, and I fell prostrate. Soon thereafter, oblivion claimed me.


I WAS awakened by the clamor of many voices around me, and looking up saw that it was broad daylight and that I was surrounded by a group of ragged strangers who had the appearance of beggars, all chattering at once.

"Wallah!" cried one. "This is the second within a week!"

"The last one was dead, may Allah concede him mercy, and this one is nearly so," said another.

"It may be that he will live," said a third. "Let us carry him to the side of the road. A caravan approaches."

The last speaker, a stalwart, swarthy fellow who had the look of an Afghan, caught me beneath the arms, and another took my feet. Together they moved me aside just as the lead camel of a long caravan from the Nejd came padding along in the dust. Though they were gentle with me, I could not suppress a groan of anguish as they lowered me to the ground, then supported me in a sitting posture.

I saw at once that my new-found friends really were beggars, for a number of them began running up to the members of the caravan and shouting: "Alms, in the name of God! Give us food, for we are hungry! Give us a bit of cloth to cover the naked one! Allah rewards the cheerful giver."

Presently one of the riders threw down a pair of old bag-trousers from his litter, which were immediately brought to me, and which my Afghan friend helped me to don. Another tossed down a frayed head-handkerchief and band, another a ragged shirt, and still another a pair of slippers. Soon I was completely though shabbily clothed, and had several articles of raiment left over. As the last plodding camel disappeared in the dust haze, one of the beggars who acted as water-boy came up with a water-skin and cup, and poured me a drink. Though it was stale, luke-warm, and flavored with leather, that drink tasted delicious.

"Alhamdolillah!" I exclaimed, when I had finished. "Allah be praised for pious friends, for clothing, and for water."

"How are you feeling by now, Hajji?" asked the Afghan. "If you can walk a little way with me, food will be added to these other gifts of Allah."

"I feel stronger," I replied, arising with his assistance. "Let us go."

"First I would make you known to the brethren."

"The brethren?"

"Aye. We are all Ikhwan al Kurbaj, Brethren of the Whip, for all have suffered, even as you have suffered, at the hands of Abu al Kurbaj. Those of us who survived his cruelty, but were unable to obtain funds for return to our native lands, have banded together for mutual aid. You are the newest member of the brotherhood. And now, your name."

"Hamed bin Ayyub," I replied.

"I am Ibn Daoud, from Kabul," he said. Then he introduced the others to me, in turn. There were eleven in all, so I made the twelfth.

As soon as I had been made acquainted with the brethren, Ibn Daoud led me away in the direction of Mecca. "This place is called the Hajun," he said, "and the cemetery is known as Al Ma'la, as you probably learned when you made your pious visitations. Our house is near the Bab al Ma'la."

I was thankful when we reached the house occupied by the Brethren of the Whip, for despite the aid of Ibn Daoud, my strength had nearly given out. The place, though badly run down, was large, roomy and airy, and had formerly be longed to a well-to-do personage of the town. A once ornate fountain, though its jets were now broken off, still babbled musically in the center of the majlis. A few threadbare rugs were scattered about, and several tattered mattresses had been placed against the walls. Some battered taborets and an ottoman or two completed the furnishings.

Ibn Daoud bade me be seated on one of the mattresses, and went into the rear of the house. Presently he returned with some dates cooked in clarified butter, and a few crusts of bread. When I had eaten he brought coffee and pipes, saying he would give over begging for the day that he might bear me company.

He informed me that he had been a wealthy horse-trader in Kabul until four years previously, when he had made the pilgrimage and had been ensnared by Abu al Kurbaj by means of a beautiful Awasil stallion which a dealer had offered to sell to him if he would bring a certain sum to his house. Like me, he had been led through the poorer quarter by a Galla slave, rescued a woman from her supposed abductor, lost his guide, and after dining with Abu al Kurbaj, lost all his possessions and most of the skin off his back. Like me, too, he had awakened, cold and naked, in the Al Ma'la Cemetery, and had been rescued by the Brethren of the Whip. He said that during his stay in Mecca more than two hundred pilgrims had been victimized by Abu al Kurbaj. At least half of them had died as a result of beatings and exposure. Many others had found the means to leave the city, but now and then a recruit remained to join the brotherhood, who had banded together to beg in the Hajun district near the cemetery, which was an excellent place to obtain alms from people mourning at the graves of their departed loved ones, pilgrims visiting the tombs of friends of Mohammed who were buried there, and caravans from Muna, Arafat, Zeima and the Nejd.

Abu al Kurbaj, he said, used various means to entice his victims. Beautiful slave-girls, fine horses and camels, and precious jewels, however, were his principal lures. In my case, he told me, there was no doubt that the slave-girl I had seen belonged to the Father of the Whip. Hosayn the hunchbacked cameleer had been posted to watch for those who showed special interest in her, to ascertain if they had money, and then to set the trap.

"If this be true," I said, "why would it not be possible to trap Abu al Kurbaj? One could go into the market with the Chief of the Watch and a couple of his men, arrest the slave-girl and the old shaykh who is supposed to be her master, and if Hosayn is about, take him also. Hailed before the Grand Sharif of Mecca they would soon confess, and the Father of the Whip could be run down."

"Alas!" replied Ibn Daoud. "All this has been tried many times. All deny knowledge of the Father of the Whip. The Grand Sharif himself says there is no such person as Abu al Kurbaj residing in Mecca. I don't know whether he is sincere or not, but I think he knows the villain and receives a considerable share of the spoils. Most of the victims who have complained to him have been laughed out of court. None have been able to locate the house in which they alleged that they were robbed and tortured, because of the tortuous way in which they were guided to it, A few, who were more vehement than the others, were bastinadoed and banished from the city. Under the circumstances, we have ceased to advise the brethren to appeal to the Grand Sharif for justice."

"In that case," I replied, "I will not visit his excellency, but will for the present resign myself to the decree of Fate. However, as soon as I am able to earn something above my keep, I purpose to find and punish this son of a disease who despoils true believers, and if possible, deprive him of his ill-gotten gains."

"Awah!" sighed Ibn Daoud, dolefully, "I fear that will be beyond your power. But we shall sec. Nothing is impossible with Allah."

I spent three days in the house of the Brethren of the Whip, recuperating. Then I weni forth with the others, to join them in the calling of begging for our daily bread. I found the vocation distasteful, but it was beg or starve. Although I was a skilled chemist and perfumer, as well as an experienced dragoman with many languages at the tip of my tongue, I could not open a shop for lack of money, and for the same reason I could not attire myself respectably enough to seek employment as a dragoman. So I haunted the vicinity of the Al Ma'la burying-ground, day after day, often receiving less than enough to pay for my keep. But we Brethren of the Whip always pooled cur resources, so we managed to exist and to pay the small rent which the owner of the dilapidated house in which we lived, collected from us each week. And as the days passed, I thought of a thousand plans for entrapping Abu al Kurbaj, if I should ever be able to save enough money to pass as a respectable personage once more.

Most of the mourners who visited the cemetery were women, and many of them were wives and daughters of well-to-do Meccans, but it was seldom that one of them gave alms above the value of a zihrawi, which is equivalent to six piasters, while most gave little or nothing.

One day, however, as I stood in my place by the cemetery entrance, shouting my beggars' formulas, there came a damsel cloaked and veiled to the eyes and riding a milk-white ass with silver-mounted trappings, led by a tall Abyssinian eunuch whose rich apparel proclaimed him the slave of some powerful grandee. With a start, I recognized him as one of the castrados who had seized me the night I was entrapped by Abu al Kurbaj.

For a moment I was too astounded to say or do anything. Then hot anger possessed me, and though I was unarmed and the eunuch wore scimitar, dagger and pistols, I sprang forward with the foolhardy intention of attacking him. At this instant, however, the lady diverted my attention from her black guardian, who had evidently not divined my purpose, and probably saved my life. In a soft, musical voice which I instantly recognized as that of the girl who had enticed me into the clutches of Abu al Kurbaj, she said: "Come hither, ya hu, and Allah will make this day blessed to you."

I checked my mad rush just in time, whereupon she held out a slim white hand in which the delicate tracery of blue veins showed, and dropped a gold lira into my palm.

"Be here tomorrow, at this same hour," she whispered. Then she had passed on, while I stood there, staring first at her, then at the gold piece, too dumbfounded to utter a sound.

That night the ragged brethren dined more richly and bountifully than for many a day, while the discussions as to what it all meant, and the prognostications as to what would take place on the morrow, were many and varied.

So when the morning dawned, and I had taken my place before the cemetery, I was so wrought up with anticipation that I lost the power of patience, and each minute of waiting assumed the length of an hour. Presently, however, I espied a small dust cloud on the road, and soon there emerged from it the eunuch, leading the milk-white ass on which rode my lady of mystery. When she drew near, she cried to me: "Hither, ya haza, and Allah will make this day propitious for you."

I ran up beside her as before, and extending a dimpled white hand, she presented me with a knotted silk handkerchief in which was something heavy that clinked as it touched my palms. This time, she rode on into the cemetery without a word.

As soon as she was well away among the tombstones, my companions, who had been awaiting her coming with impatience that matched my own, crowded around me demanding to know what I had received. In the meantime I had recognized one of my own silk handkerchiefs in which I had knotted five pounds Turkish, and untying it, found the five gold pieces and a folded note. With trembling fingers, I opened it, and read:


In the Name of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate! Es Sitt Layla to Hajj Hamed bin Ayyub. Greetings and Salutations:

But after, distribute these five gold pieces as largesse to your companions in misfortune, and tell them to be of good cheer, for it may be that through your efforts and mine (Allah willing) their lot will soon be changed for the better.

Then, when the day is done, and night spreads its mantle over rich and poor, pious and profane, just and unjust, be waiting before the chapel, Maulid al Nabi, where there will come to you one who will be of assistance in mending your fortune. Prayer and the Peace,

Layla.


When my companions saw the gold and heard the contents of the letter, they cried out with exceeding joy and gladness, and then and there declared a holiday. So we all repaired to the house in the Upper Quarter where a feast was soon spread, after which songs and merriment were in order.

But as for me, I left my friends to their revelry when the sun was low on the horizon, and hied me to the Maulid al Nabi, the chapel which surrounds the birthplace of the Prophet.

4

WHEN I reached the chapel I prayed the sunset prayer, then took up my post outside. Soon thereafter, darkness came down over the city, and here and there lamps began to diffuse their yellow radiance through latticed windows.

I waited long, while all those who had come to pray left the chapel. Yet I saw no one whom I might suspect of being the messenger of the lady Layla.

Presently, however, an old woman whom I had barely noticed, came up to me and asked: "Are you Hajj Hamed bin Ayyub?"

"And what if I am, ya ummi?" I countered.

"Answer my question," she insisted, "and be quick about it."

"I am he," I replied.

"Then take this clothing," she directed, handing me a bundle, "go into that deserted doorway and put on the garments. Then return to this spot, where I will await you."

I did as she directed, and opening the bundle, found that it contained a woman's head-scarf, face-veil and cloak like those worn by the old trot. Quickly donning them, I bent my back, shortened my steps and swayed my hips, so that my stature was concealed and my gait was as that of a woman.

When the old crone saw me coming toward her in this manner, she could not repress a chuckle. "Well done, young man," she quavered. "Did I not recognize the garments, I should take you for my elder sister, whom you are to represent this evening. She is skilled in geomancy and the casting of horoscopes, and Es Sitt Layla for the past two days has expressed a desire to consult her, so the master has consented."

"Who is the master?" I croaked, imitating the cracked and squeaky voice of an ancient beldame.

"That," she replied, "will be for my lady to tell you or not, as she chooses. Only see to it that you do not betray your identity, or death will night with us this night."

We walked on for some distance, while I questioned the old trot to no purpose. Then she suddenly warned me to be silent, and we stepped up before the large and ornate door of a palatial residence, on which was piously inscribed: God is the excellent Creator, the Everlasting.

The lazy bowab reluctantly arose from his seat on the stone bench beside the door, put down his pipe, and grumblingly admitted us after the old woman had told him I was her sister, Sa'ada, who had come to cast the lady Layla's horoscope.

Imposing as was the outside of the house, it scarcely prepared me for the magnificence of the interior. Marble, tile, camelian and alabaster were among the expensive materials employed with lavish abandon in its construction and decoration. Passing through the court, we went directly to the bob al harim, where we left our outer slippers. Before it stood with drawn scimitar one of the Abyssinian eunuchs who had assisted in my robbery and torture some time before. To him the old woman repeated the tale she had told the bowab, and we were admitted to a small hallway at the end of which was a stairway which led to the upper apartments. Ascending this, we reached the women's sitting-room, where a number of slave-girls lounged about, smoking narghiles, nibbling at sweetmeats, and chatting. They spoke cordially to the old woman, and looked curiously at me, but made no comment. We passed thence into a hallway which led to the various apartments of the females. Eunuchs stood before the doorways of several of these, and before one I recognized the second castrado who had assisted in my spoliation and beating. Straight to that door the old dame led me, and again repeating her fabrication gained entrance for us.

The old woman now conducted me through the private entrance-hall of this apartment, and into a room where two slave-girls, who had evidently been expecting us, came forward. Much to my consternation, they began stripping off my garments. Then, cackling her amusement at my surprise and embarrassment, the old trot backed out of the room.

Some thirty minutes later, I stood before a mirror in that same room and surveyed the figure reflected therein. I saw a young man, tall, straight, and not unhandsome, wearing silver-mounted sword and dagger, a green silk turban, and rich garments that would have done credit to a sharif. The young man had been scrubbed, rubbed and anointed until his skin tingled delightfully, and exhaled a fragrance like that of a Damascus flower garden. It was obvious that he was altogether pleased with his transformation.

One of the slave-girls had left the room, and the other stood beside the door, holding the woman's garments I had worn as a disguise. Presently the absent girl returned, and called: "This way, sidi."

The girl at the door slipped my disguise over my new and magnificent habiliments, and I again assumed the posture and walk of an old woman as I followed the first girl out into the private entrance-hall of the apartment; for I fully realized that if I should betray myself to a chance-met person by omitting the slightest detail, my life would be forfeit. Crossing the hall, we entered a large and luxuriously furnished sitting-room. But magnificent as were the room and its furnishings, they were eclipsed by the exquisite loveliness of the radiant creature who occupied the center of the silk-upholstered diwan in the niche just opposite me. With a thrill of surprise and pleasure, I recognized the little beauty who had played such havoc with my heart in the slave market.

The two slave-girls quickly removed my disguise and stepped back, leaving me to stand there, awkward and self-conscious before this slip of a girl, in spite of my recently acquired sartorial elegance. Her beauty, I observed, lost nothing by being removed to these surroundings, but was rather enhanced, as is a precious jewel by a correct setting.

"Will you not sit here beside me, Hajji?" she asked.

Scarcely crediting the testimony of my ears, I replied: "Yes, Allah willing," and crossed die room as if in a dream.

The girl took my hand and drew me down to the diwan at her side. "It seems you have grown less bold since that day in the slave market," she said, looking up archly.

"Then you did notice me that day?"

"Assuredly."

"I caught your glance, but I dared not hope."

"I wanted to warn you," she said, "but I could not, for fear of the shaykh, my uncle."

"Ah! So he is not your father or your master!"

"He and my father were half-brothers. My father's mother was a free woman, daughter of the Shaykh of the Banu Asadin. His mother was a half-caste Somali slave-girl. When my uncle was a youth, he joined the bar ami, the bandits who infest the roads that lead into Mecca, robbing pilgrims and other travelers.

"My father, on whom be peace, was an honest trader, who grew wealthy and built and furnished this house. When I was born, my mother was received into the mercy of Allah. Ten years later, my father followed her to the Gardens of the Blessed, and he was buried by her side in the Cemetery Al Ma'la. Then my uncle, now known as Shaykh Sa'ud, became my guardian."

"Can it be possible that Abu al Kurbaj is the pious and respected Shaykh Sa'ud?" I asked, in surprise. I had heard of this notable who was high In the councils of the Grand Sharif of Mecca, and who was always mentioned with admiration and respect.

"They arc one and the same," she assured me. "Although he assumes a physical disguise when he becomes Abu al Kurbaj, it is then that he reveals his true nature. The gentle and pious Shaykh Sa'ud is the real disguise. The Sharif suspects, of course, if he docs not actually know. But numerous costly presents keep him from voicing his suspicions. There are only four of us who could bear witness against my uncle should opportunity arise, and we would of course, incriminate ourselves as well. They are Hosayn, the camel-driver; the two eunuchs, Mormous and Mahmet; and I. The Galla boy gets his orders from Hosayn, and knows nothing beyond the task he performs. In view of the presents to the Sharif, I know my unsupported testimony would not be accepted, while the eunuchs and the cameleer would fear the wrath of my uncle even more than the convictions which might follow such confession."

"Then you would win freedom from this life of pillage if you could?"

"Since the death of my father, it has been my dearest wish; for almost immediately after he assumed my guardianship, my uncle began forcing me to sit in the slave market from time to time, to entrap pilgrims. The people of Mecca believe that Shaykh Sa'ud has a slave-girl whom he often offers for sale, but never sells. As no one ever sees my face except my two slave-girls, my great-aunt who brought you here tonight, the eunuchs, and my uncle, nobody knows that the slave-girl and I are the same."

"When your uncle was about to flog me," I said, "you mentioned a promise he had made not to use the whip on me."

"It was a promise which he broke," she said, "as he has many others, for he is totally without honor. When I saw you in the slave mart that day, and knew you had been singled out for a victim, I refused to go on with my part. Then, for the first time in my life, though I had been threatened with it many times before, I felt the sting of the kurbaj. Even then, I refused to go on until he had promised not to whip you."

I looked at her searchingly. "You took a whipping to save me?" I asked, incredulously. "Why?"

"Because—from the moment I saw you—oh, can't you see, can't you understand that I—"

With a swift movement I swept her into my arms. "I can both see and understand, glorious one," I told her, "though the realization confounds my reason."

"Take me away with you, Hamed," she murmured, presently, her warm lips close to mine. "I have gold and jewels in plenty, wealth which rightfully belongs to me and is not the loot of pilgrims. We must make a plan—enlist the aid of your comrades. I will provide amply for all of them."

"I will go to them at once, tonight," I said. "To win you I would tear down this house bare-handed, stone by stone."

Her arms tightened around my neck. "You must be careful, my dear one. I love you so that I could not bear to lose you. I will pray Allah to—"

She was suddenly interrupted by a muffled scream from one of the slave-girls, who came hurrying across the room with my woman's clothing. "The master is coming!" she cried. "You must slip these on at once."


WITH the aid of the slave-girl and Layla I quickly donned the garments. Then, seating myself once more on the diwan, I bent over a horoscope and astrological table which the lady had provided for just such an emergency, and began muttering in the cracked voice of an old hag as if making calculations. When the door opened, I glanced covertly over my nose-veil, and saw a white-bearded shaykh, thick of waist and pudgy of fingers, with a face like a dolphin's belly and a neck like an elephant's throat, advancing ponderously across the floor. Despite the change in his appearance and his gentle, even kindly demeanor, there was no mistaking the flat nose and huge figure of the terrible Abu al Kurbaj.

"The peace of Allah be upon you, my uncle," greeted Layla.

"And upon you be peace and Allah's blessing," he replied. "I observe that you would look into the future."

"That," she replied, "is the province of the pious Sa'ada, who has much skill in the casting of horoscopes."

"So I have heard," he answered. "Perhaps she will deign to read the future for me, also, when you have finished with her. What say you, mother?"

"With joy and gladness, my lord," I croaked, then continued my interrupted muttering.

The shaykh drew up an ottoman and sat down quite close to us, observing me minutely.

"What large hands you have, mother," he said, presently, "and what enormous feet."

"I am as Allah made me," I replied, beginning to sense that something had gone badly amiss. Suddenly I recalled my outer slippers which had, according to custom, been left at the doorway with those of the old trot who had brought me in. She had no doubt gone away with hers, but mine remained, damning evidence that the strange man had been admitted to the house. My greatest wonder was that the eunuch had not observed them, thus betraying me sooner. If I had only had the foresight to leave a pair of woman's slippers! But what had been done could not be undone. I waited tensely.

"The ways of Allah are past all understanding," observed the shaykh. "Yet never before have I known Him to provide a woman with hands and feet like those of a man; wherefore I marvel with exceeding marvel, and praise Allah for having permitted me to see this miracle of creation."

I knew that the time for shamming had passed, and so suddenly sprang at him, clutching him by the bull throat, and saying: "Perhaps you would test the strength of these hands. Father of the Whip." But despite my strength and swiftness, I was unable to shut off his voice. One might, with equal success, attempt to choke a hippopotamus.

He seized my wrists, and flung me from him as if I were a child. Then rising and overturning the ottoman, he bellowed: "Ya, Mormous! Ya, Mahmet! To me!"

I flung off my encumbering woman's disguise and whipped out my scimitar just as the two stalwart eunuchs burst into the room, bared blades in hand. With a swiftness that was surprising in one of his obesity, Shaykh Sa'ud also drew his scimitar.

"So, it's you!" he roared, making a vicious slash at me as he saw my face unveiled. "For this, O blasphemer, and desecrator of the harims of the pious, you die!"

I parried his slash, and countered with a head cut that must have laid him low, had not one of the eunuchs at that instant caught my blade on his. Then, before I could recover, the other castrado had leaped in and caught my sword-arm. In a trice the three of them were upon me, and they soon had me trussed up like a fowl on a spit.

Shaykh Sa'ud took his knee off my chest and stood up, puffing from his exertions. His face a thundercloud of wrath, he glared at the lady Layla. "For this base deception, O foul slut," he roared, "I will marry you to Hosayn the camel-driver this very night. And as for your lover," spurning me with his foot, "he shall witness the ceremony, after which he shall again meet Abu al Kurbaj, so that the whip may speed him on his way to the hell reserved for blasphemers and profaners."

Layla faced him defiantly. "You shall not slay him," she cried, "nor will I marry your foul and ugly hunchback. Before this comes to pass I will take my life."

The shaykh laughed evilly—the laugh of Abu al Kurbaj. "So? We will see. Mormous, throw this dog into the dungeon until I call for him. Mahmet, see that the house is prepared at once for the marriage, and send for Hosayn and the kazi."

"Harkening and obedience, sidi," muttered the two eunuchs together. Then one took my feet and the other my shoulders, and they carried me out and down a secret stairway, which seemed to lead into the very bowels of the earth. At the base of the stairs they paused, and one lighted a lantern. Then they dragged me across a damp cellar filled with bales and boxes and cast me into an oubliette, the walls of which were provided with rusty fetters and neck-rings, and the floor of which was littered with filth and moldering human bones.

As I was so securely bound, the two did not bother to put fetters on me, but went out, barring the door after them, and left me alone in the stinking darkness.

5

NO sooner was I cast to the floor in the dungeon than I began straining and working at my bonds. At the cost of much skin and a goodly quantity of blood, I was at length able to stretch and loosen the cords which held my wrists so I could slip them over my hands. I then quickly unbound my ankles, and after stamping my feet to restore the circulation, made for the door.

The door and bolt were both of wood which had once been strong, but which was now warped and rotted by the dampness of the cellar. However, bare-handed, I was unable to make any impression on it, though I could thrust my fingers through one of the cracks and touch the bolt. Then I remembered the litter on the floor, and felt about until I found a human rib-bone. With this I enlarged the crack in the rotting wood, and prying at the bolt discovered, as I suspected, that the iron pins which were supposed to lock it had completely rusted away. Little by little I was able to slide the bolt along until the door swung open. Carefully closing and bolting it after me, I began groping about the dark cellar, feeling my way among the bales and boxes until I came to a wall. This I followed for some time before finding a door. I cautiously slid the bolt, and stepped into a dark passageway.

Silently I closed the door and felt my way along the passageway, expecting to encounter a stairway. Instead, I wandered on and on until I came to another door, and opening this; found myself in a low, rough-hewn cave, the moonlit mouth of which I could see a short distance away. The opening to the cave was so small that I was obliged to creep out on all fours. It was concealed by shrubbery, and was on a hillside just beyond the garden wall of the shaykh's house. Evidently it had been constructed by Layla's father, as a mode of escape in case of sudden necessity for flight.

As soon as I saw where I was, I started for the house of the Brethren of the Whip, running as fast as my legs would carry me. The sounds of singing and revelry, and the mingled odors of arak and stale pipe smoke greeted me as I flung wide the door and dashed in among them.

"Ho, comrade!" greeted Ibn Daoud. "What new good fortune have you found? By Allah! You are habited like the son of a sultan!"

The others swiftly closed around me, asking about my experience. In as few words as possible, I swiftly told them what had befallen me. Shortly thereafter, we twelve left the house together, all armed to the teeth, and some of our number bearing chisels, crowbars, hammers and lanterns, I in my resplendent raiment, they in their beggars' rags.

Swiftly I led the brethren to the cave mouth, which we entered, and lighting lanterns, proceeded into the passageway. When we reached the cellar, the brethren, after binding me hand and foot, but taking the precaution to cut nearly through my cords so I could free myself in an instant, left me in the oubliette with the door barred as before, hid behind the bales and boxes, and extinguished all the lights.

Presently I heard a door open, the sound of voices, and footsteps on the cellar floor. Then the dancing light of a moving lantern shone through the cracks in my door. A moment later it was flung open, and the two eunuchs, Mormous and Mahmet, entered. The former drew his scimitar and slashed the bonds that prisoned my ankles, while the latter held the lantern.

"Get up, son of a pig," said Mormous, prodding me with his scimitar, "and march before me."

I scrambled to my feet and walked out, with Mormous' point pricking my back. They hustled me across the cellar and up the stairway, then through a hallway, and into a room where Shaykh Sa'ud sat, smoking a narghile, a kurbaj across his knees. Seated at his left was the bottle-nosed, hunchbacked camel-driver, Hosayn, similarly occupied.

"Know, O mangy wolf," said the shaykh, "that since the kazi has not yet been found, I purpose to give you a foretaste of the means by which you shall depart this world when the wedding of my faithful friend, Hosayn, and my niece has been consummated."

He made a sign to the two eunuchs, who began stripping off my upper garments. In so doing they drew my wrists apart so that my bonds fell off.

The keen-eyed cameleer instantly noticed this, and picking up the severed ends, showed them to the shaykh. "You will observe that they have been cut, sidi," he said.

"What's this, dog?" bellowed the shaykh. "Who cut your bonds?"

Before I found it necessary to reply, the door burst open, and in rushed my comrades, brandishing their weapons.

Seeing they were hopelessly outnumbered, our enemies quickly threw down their arms and surrendered. The Brethren of the Whip swiftly bound the four of them, and were then for pillaging the house and making off with the loot and slaves. But I had thought of a better plan, to which, after I had propounded it, they were quite ready to accede. At the suggestion of Ibn Daoud they voted me their leader, putting themselves completely under my authority.

"And now your orders, Hajji," said the Afghan.

"Throw the two eunuchs and the cameleer into the oubliette and set a guard over them," I said. "In the meantime I will have a talk with the Father of the Whip."

While they were carrying out my instructions, I told Shaykh Sa'ud just what it would be necessary for him to do if he would see the light of the morrow's sun. At first he raged and fumed and blustered, but at length, seeing that I meant precisely what I said, and that there was no alternative, he agreed.

Presently Ibn Daoud returned with five of the brethren, the rest having been posted at various strategic points. Then I went out to seek Layla. I found her in her bridal clothes, weeping bitterly. When she saw me alive and well she could not, at first, believe her eyes. But once in my arms she was soon comforted, and I told her all that had occurred and what further plans I had made, whereupon she made haste to complete her toilette.

Some time later, Layla wearing her veil, Shaykh Sa'ud and I were seated on a diwan before a curtain. Five of the brethren, attired in new and costly raiment, sat near us. One of Layla's slave-girls came in to announce that the kazi was below with witnesses.

"Give presents to the witnesses and send them away," I told her, "for we will not need them. But bring the kazi here."

Shortly thereafter, the learned judge, a white-bearded patriarch with an immense turban, followed the girl into the room.

After greeting the kazi, bidding him be seated, and tendering him pipe and coffee, the shaykh handed him a paper and said: "Having reached the conclusion that it is better to lay up merit for the next world than wealth in this, I desire that you will write for me a deed, conveying all of my property to my twelve adopted sons, whose names are written on this paper."

"Have you taken leave of your senses, sidi?" asked the amazed kazi. "I was not aware that you had adopted any sons. As for giving away your property, you must be mad."

At this, there was a marked bulge of the curtain behind Sa'ud, and he winced before replying: "My mind is made up, and nothing will change it. I pray you make out the papers at once, without question or protest."

For some time there was deep silence, in which the scratching of the judge's reed pen was plainly audible. Presently he finished, and handed the paper to the shaykh, who hesitated a moment, but hastily signed it when the curtain bulged once more behind him.

"And now," said Sa'ud, after another bulge of the curtain brought a pained expression to his countenance, "write a marriage contract between my son Hajj Hamed bin Ayyub and my niece, Es Sitt Layla, stating that the marriage money, ten thousand pounds, has been paid, and receipt by me acknowledged."

Once more we all fell silent, while the kazi's pen scratched busily. When the contract was finished, we three signed it, and the five brethren signed as witnesses. Then, after the learned judge had affixed his signature to the document, he was handed a purse of gold for his trouble, and pleading the lateness of the hour, took his departure.

As soon as he had left the room, the curtain behind the shaykh was flung back, and out stepped Ibn Daoud, his terrible Afghan knife in his hand.

"Mashallah!" he cried. "Well done, brethren! And now to gather our horses and camels, goods and chattels, gold and jewels, slaves and slave-girls, and take our departure with our adopted father, so our brother, Hajj Hamed, may go in to his bride."


A FEW hours later I stood in an upper window of the harim, my arm about the slender waist of my bride, watching the departure of a considerable caravan. At its head rode Shaykh Sa'ud, with a Brother of the Whip on each side of him. And behind him rode in order, Hosayn the cameleer, and the eunuchs, Mormous and Mahmet, each similarly guarded. Then came the stalwart Ibn Daoud, flourishing a kurbaj with which I was all too familiar, in a manner that made me shudder at thought of the retribution which would soon overtake the four rascally prisoners.

We stood there, Layla and I, looking through the lattice long after the last camel had departed. Presently one of the slave-girls announced: "The bridal couch is ready, my lady," whereupon my wife hid her face against my shoulder.

Thus it was, effendi, that I took to wife Layla, most beautiful of the daughters of the City of the Prophet, and found her a pearl of great price.

As for Abu al Kurbaj, I was riding one day to the Cemetery Al Ma'la with my wife, when we saw, seated by the side of the road with a frayed napkin spread before him, a ragged and filthy beggar.

Save for his flat nose and tremendous bulk, I should never have recognized him as the Father of the Whip.

Ho, Silat! Bring the sweet and take the full.


THE END


Roy Glashan's Library
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