"Of course, you stupid!" came the laughing a.s.surance. "We can make inquiries without telling any one."

At the door of the hotel they found Elias waiting. He stood forth and greeted the Emir quite unabashed, convulsed with laughter at the latter's cold amazement.

"You thinkin' of that business in the garden? Neffer fear, sir! That was all a dam' bad joke of that briest-fellow, Mitri--I'll be efen with him yet, by Jingo!--all to pay me out because I neffer gif him nothing when he bless my house. He is a funny man, sir--that briest is! He makes me laugh fit to sblit with his awful silly jokes."

Yet while thus joyously ascribing his late discomfiture to the Orthodox priest, his manner towards Iskender showed new deference, clearly indicating that he saw the young man's hand in the business, and recognised his master in guile. Iskender was greatly shocked when his Emir allowed that proven rogue to enter with them. What was his horror when, arrived in the bedroom, his Highness lightly asked Elias if he had ever heard of a place in the interior where gold lay on the surface of the ground.

His lord shot a glance at Iskender to rea.s.sure him on the score of secrecy. But the poor youth gnashed his teeth and clenched his hands.

He saw his credit hanging on a thread, his new-found favour on the point of leaving him, Elias avenged, triumphant. The dragoman had travelled far and wide; he was sure to ridicule the tale, and prove convincingly that no such place existed. He could hardly suppress a cry when Elias, instead of laughing, pulled a grave face and solemnly affirmed:

"I know it well."

"Have you been there?" inquired the Emir, himself astonished. "I heard of it to-day by chance, and am curious to know the whole story of it."

"Not I myself. But I know one man what went there. He left this bart of the country, though; may be dead, by Jofe, for what I know!"

Interrogated further, Elias declared that the name of the place was well known. It was Wady 'l Muluk, the Valley of the Kings; though why he could not say, unless it were because the kings of old, who were certainly richer than kings are nowadays, derived their gold from thence. Many persons had, at divers times, set out to find that place; but few had reached it, for the reason that no one knew the road exactly, and the desert tribes were fond of killing travellers.

"Don't you make no mistake!" he concluded. "The Wady 'l Muluk, he's there all right, only a job to find him. If you want to hear about him, I tell you what, dear sir, I ask some beebles."

"I should be obliged if you would," said the Frank.

Iskender was still in the stupefied state of one who wakes to find his dream made real. After such evidence from Elias, an unprepared, impartial person, there was no longer any room for doubt but that the gold of his vision actually existed. He felt a trifle jealous of the witness for knowing more about it than he did himself. A servant summoning the Emir to dinner, he went out into the twilight with Elias, who still treated him with the gravest deference. As they walked away together, the dragoman still talking of the wonders of the place of gold, Iskender could not help informing him that he had certain knowledge of the whereabouts of that valley, away in the eastern wilderness, beyond the Jordan.

"Thou sayest? Now may Allah bless thee!" muttered Elias, with immediate reverence. "Allah witness how I always loved thee. I understand now why his Honour questioned me with so much mystery. You are going there together. The Emir will furnish forth the expedition and become thy partner. Allah witness how I always loved thee.

Bitterly do I repent my conduct towards thee of the last few days, and Allah knows thou hast had ample vengeance. Thou art too strong for me.

Henceforth I am thy friend and loving servant. Take me also, I beseech thee, O my soul. I can be useful to thee from my wide experience in travel; and of the spoil I would claim no more than an alms or gleaning. Fear not that I shall breathe a word to any man. Elias is renowned for his discretion. Say yes, O beloved! For the love of Allah, let me go with you."

Iskender said yes, though with mental reservations. The concession set Elias upon heights of glory. He kissed Iskender on both cheeks at parting, and swore by Allah that the love he felt for him transcended that which he bore his own father and mother.

CHAPTER XIII

Iskender followed the sandy road through the gardens. It was dark, and the forms of one or two men who pa.s.sed him made him tremble, they sprang so suddenly out of the gloom, noiseless, their footfalls deadened by the soft sand. The events of the day had left on him a strong impression of the supernatural, and now he felt that witchcraft was abroad, expected each minute that some evil claw would pounce on him out of the gloom. The very stars of heaven looked uncanny. Cold sweat came out upon his forehead; his legs dragged weakly though he longed to run. Two palm-trees standing out against the sky told him he was approaching the abode of Mitri; the church, the hovels, even the ilex-tree, were swallowed up in the dark cloud of the gardens which rolled mysterious on every side. Presently he saw a light among the dwellings. It occurred to him to call at the priest's house, and render thanks for his intervention in the matter of Elias. He longed to speak to some one, any one, for rescue from the grinning terror of the night.

He knocked at the door with loud blessings. It was opened, with a sudden gush of light. The priest peered out into the gloom.

"Is it thou, O my son?" he cried, recognising at length the voice that praised his kindness. "No, Allah be my witness, I will accept nothing from thee--neither thanks nor anything else, save thy conversion. Hast come to seek instruction in accordance with thy promise? Alas! I cannot bid thee enter, for my wife and children are abed; the hour is late. What ails thee that thou tremblest? Art afraid of the powers of darkness, poor Brutestant without a saint to guard thee? Wait, I will take my staff and bear thee company.

"By Allah, thou hast every cause to fear," he continued, stepping forth beside Iskender. "Thy errors give the devils power to harm thee. The Franks are not afraid; for in each one of them there sits a devil far more powerful than those outside. But thou, poor innocent dupe, are left defenceless. Surely the falsehood of their teaching must be evident to a youth of thy intelligence?"

"Nay, O my father, though my soul abhors them, I still discern much good in their beliefs." Iskender, freed from fear, could argue lightly. That morning, when he gave his word to Mitri, he had felt alone and helpless. Now, in repossession of his Emir, with boundless wealth in prospect, the question of his change of faith seemed unimportant. That the Orthodox creed was the way of salvation, he had no doubt; his mother had always said so; but there seemed plenty of time in which to save his soul. He added: "How can their faith be false, seeing it is founded on the Holy Scriptures?"

"They quote the Scriptures, it is true," retorted Mitri, "but without rule or guidance, each in the pride of his own understanding--the devils do the same!--so that no two Brutestants believe alike. They reject all those sacred traditions which lead back to Christ. Their only union is in hatred of the Church. They exist for themselves alone, to the hurt of others, just like stinging insects. And Allah alone knows why they were ever created, unless it be as a kind of hornet to molest the faithful. Consider, O my dear, how transient this life is; its prosperity departs with the breath. Think on the anguish of those who, attracted by the wealth and luxury of these missionaries, forsake the truth of G.o.d, when they stand before His Throne of Judgment at the Last Day!"

Iskender listened, but was unimpressed. His mind had wandered back to the events of the day; and at that moment Wady 'l Muluk was more apparent to his mind than the Last Judgment. He murmured:

"I will ponder what thou sayest."

"Again bethink thee, thou who hast the gift of making likenesses and colouring them so that they resemble living things, what fame awaits thee as a maker of sacred pictures for our churches and our dwellings!"

"True, I must think of that," replied Iskender. He meant, in case he failed by any chance to find the valley full of gold, whose wealth would raise him to the social rank of his Emir.

"Well, go in peace, my son; may Allah guide thee!"

With the blessing Mitti [Transcriber's note: Mitri?] kissed Iskender on the brow, and pressed his hand. They were then quite near the little house upon the sandhill; could see light streaming from its open door and, silhouetted on the light, Iskender's mother looking out for him.

"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed, when her son came bounding through a gap of the cactus hedge. "Praise be to Allah thou art still alive and well! I have kept a bowl of lentils hot for thee, which is more than thy deserts, O shameless one! O my despair, ever to have borne such a son! When--when wilt thou learn discretion? Why didst thou express a hope that thy Emir would foul the beard of the Father of Ice, and that in the hearing of the son of Costantin? Here have the ladies been again to-day, railing against thee as the worst of malefactors. By Allah, I can keep thee here no longer. Yet whither canst thou go, unhappy boy, for now I learn that thou hast angered thy Emir? Thy uncle, the respectable Abdullah, has been here in great trouble for thee. He has this day returned from Beyrut, that great, splendid city, and I thought that he had come to tell me of its progress and high fashion. But no, it was for thee he came. In the town, on landing he had heard the tidings of thy downfall. Why hast thou hid the truth from me these many days? I could have fallen lifeless when I heard him say that thou art nothing, that Elias is the friend of thy Emir.

Whence came that money thou didst show me? Was it stolen? Tell me, O unfortunate! I am thy loving mother, and shall not condemn thee."

Iskender laughed at her concern.

"It is true," he said, "that my Emir did for a time prefer Elias. But now, praise to Allah, all is well again!" And he proceeded to relate what had happened that morning in the orange-garden.

"May Allah reward our father Mitri!" his mother exclaimed. "But I would not have thee go too far in friendship with him, on account of the missionaries, who may yet forgive thee. To-day when I condemned thy conduct fiercely, their hearts, I could see, were touched with pity for thee. Now if I drive thee forth, and vow never more to look on thee, there is a chance they will forgive thee quite. It is certain that they do not love Asad as they loved thee. By Allah, I should like to see my son a mighty clergyman. Then I would wear fine Frankish hats in their despite; and thou couldst wed the Sitt Hilda, though she is old for thee. To-morrow, therefore, seek some new abode. . . . Allah cut short thy life! Thy wits are wandering. Is the matter of my speech so light, O misbegotten?"

Iskender, who was half-way through the mess of lentils, protested with his mouth full that he had heard and would obey. But his tone was so indifferent as to increase his parent's wrath. To one deep in thought of the valley of gold, her words seemed trash. She stormed unceasingly till they had both lain down to rest and the night-light was burning fitfully on the ground between them. Then at last came peace; she snored aloud; while Iskender thought of the valley full of gold, whose true existence had been miraculously revealed to him, and then of the career as a church painter offered to him by the priest Mitri.

Anything was better than to be the fatted slave of the missionaries, who, he felt sure, hated him. His desire was to be loved.

In the morning early he returned to the house of Mitri. As he reached it a noise of chanting in the little church informed him that the priest was at his duties; so he squatted down in the shade of the ever-green oak, and waited till the service should be ended. Presently a group of brown-legged boys came tumbling out, smiting one another and shouting the minute they had pa.s.sed the threshold. A few girls followed, all discreetly veiled, in one of whom he recognised Nesibeh; and then some older people, turbaned men and white-veiled women, among them one blind sheykh with hands outstretched; and finally, after an interval, the priest himself. Iskender sprang to him, and kissed his hand.

"I seek a boon of thee, O lord of kindness!"

"In the name of Allah!" Mitri seized the suppliant's hands and pressed them to his heart. "Say on; I listen."

Iskender told him how the hatred of the missionaries had reached such a pitch that his mother was obliged to cast him out. He had come to the priest, his best friend, for advice in this dilemma, thinking that he might recommend him to a lodging.

"Now may Allah house thee!" said Mitri with a thoughtful frown. "Allah knows thy mother does great wrong thus to cast thee abroad, a young unmarried man; unless she wishes to debauch thee utterly. For who but the worst of characters would take thee in, to share the intimacy of their wives and daughters, except it might be as a traveller, and for a single night? Wallah, I am at a loss how to advise thee. There is not at present among us an old childless couple, nor yet a bachelor, whose dwelling thou couldst share. By the Holy Gospel, I see no resort for thee except a khan. . . . I have it!"--his perplexity was lightened suddenly, and he raised his eyes, till then downcast. "Thou shalt lodge at the hotel of Musa el Barudi, where thy patron dwells. Musa is of my congregation, and he loves me well; while, as for Selim and Daud, his two sons, I taught them their duties and chastised their youthful conduct. Wait here, and I will write a word to them, how thou art tired of the vain beliefs of the Brutestants, and wouldst tread the path of Salvation."

"Write all that pleases thee, our father!"

Iskender waited to receive the missive; and then, with blessings on the priest and all belonging to him, sped with it to the hotel. To be near his sweet Emir both night and day fulfilled his dearest wish.

The sons of Musa had not yet risen when he entered the hall; and the black doorkeeper, accustomed to see him come in every day without leave or question, betrayed astonishment when asked to bear a letter to them.

"To which of the twain?" he asked, with a dubious grin.

"By Allah, that I care not; for see, by the superscription, the message is to both alike."

"I will show it to the Khawajah Selim," the negro muttered, and went off, holding the paper wrapped in his white robe.

He returned almost immediately, on his heels Selim the son of Musa, who cried gladly:

"Thou art welcome and thrice welcome, O my dear! The praise to Allah, and good luck to thee! Our father Mitri must be mad with joy; for thou art the first that ever came from them to him, while they have stolen many from his flock, though not of late. The Holy Orthodox Church invites no proselyte, so the more credit to the man who comes to her.

She resembles some old-fashioned, quiet merchant, too dignified to compete with Frankish cheapjacks. Our house is thy house; dwell here as long as is convenient to thee, and may Allah preserve thee always."