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Desert Love Part 17

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"Light all the lamps and come and tell me the news."

The little woman obeyed, and came to kneel beside the girl, gazing up at the fair white face with positive wors.h.i.+p in her eyes.

"Great is the news, O! mistress."

"Tell it."

The words were sharp, and the faintest shadow of a smile glinted for a moment in the native's eyes.

"Behold, O! beautiful flower! Unto us, the slaves of our great master, under whose feet we are but as dust, it has been told that he upon whom may Allah's greatest blessings fall, is about to take unto himself a wife."

Silence! Save for a little breath indrawn too quickly.

"Well, proceed with the wonderful news!" The words were icy, but a smile flickered for a moment across the native's face, and was gone.

"Behold has he, the greatest man in Egypt and Arabia, before whom all are but shadows, and unto whom is offered the love and respect of all those who live within the bounty of his great heart, yea! behold has he deigned to look upon Amanreh, the thirteen year old daughter of Sheikh el Hoata.s.sin, second only in wealth and prowess to our own master.

Fair is she and young, in very truth meet to wed with him who rules us with a hand of iron, bound in thongs of softest velvet.

"Beautiful, yes! beautiful as the day at dawn, and straight as yon marble pillar, and as delicately tinted, rounded as the bursting lotus bud, and fit to carry the honour of bearing her master's children! In a few moons it------!"

"Begone!"

The word cracked like a whip through the scented room, but as the little hunchback crept swiftly through the curtains, the smile pa.s.sed from the eyes to the mouth, as softly she whispered to herself:

"It is well done!"

CHAPTER XXIX

Out on to the balcony and back, this way, that way, to and fro, paced Jill in her black room. Black skins lay upon the black marble floor, black satin cus.h.i.+ons upon the skins. Curtains of scented leather, as soft and supple as satin, hung before the doors let into the walls of black carved wood.

A long couch of ebony, untouched by silver or by gold, stood under one of the gigantic black marble statues, which represented an Ethiopian slave or some wild beast, holding in hand or mouth a lamp with shade of flaming orange, the one touch of colour in the whole room.

There was no sound save for the occasional crackle of resinous log burning in a brazier placed in a far corner, before which Jill suddenly crouched, s.h.i.+vering, though the night was warm. Weary was she from want of sleep, weary was her heart from loneliness, weary her mouth, laden with unuttered words of the great love, which, day by day, hour by hour, yea! even from the moment she had turned to find her fate behind her, had been growing and expanding until naught was left of her but love and fear. For fear had been her companion in the hours of the night, which she had pa.s.sed in restless pacing upon the balcony.

For two of these restless hours she had put on and discarded the garments within her cupboards, until she had found that which she desired. And an hour she had spent likewise in the adorning of her beauty, before she stood satisfied in front of her mirror. The voluminous trousers of softest black fabric, hardly revealing the exquisite whiteness of her perfect limbs, were caught by heavy golden anklets above the little feet, with henna-tipped toes and reddened heel.

Her bare waist shone like a strip of creamy satin above the belt and stomacher of black leather encrusted in black pearls, her arms were bare, also the supple back and glistening shoulders, but the rounded glory of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s was hidden by a covering of soft interlaced ribbon, sewn with pearls. Her hair wound round and round her head, and, fastened by great combs, shone like a golden globe, and over it she had thrown a flimsy veil, and around her a swinging cloak.

There was no touch of paint upon her face, nor did she, with the exception of her anklets, wear loose jewels, or the ornaments which cause that nerve-breaking clatter so beloved by the Eastern woman, and so superlatively irritating to the Western ear. In fact she was the most ravis.h.i.+ng picture of delight imaginable, her first shyness and awkwardness of her unaccustomed attire having long since vanished, though, be it confessed, that until this night she had never intended that human eye should rest upon her loveliness.

But the earth of discontent and the waters of loneliness make fertile soil for the seeds of fear, even if those seeds be planted by the hand of a misshapen slave; but a little smile and a sigh of satisfaction had been the outcome of a prolonged scrutiny in a mirror, before which she had stood whilst quoting certain words which ran thusly:

"Beautiful as the dawn, rounded as the bursting lotus bud." And then she had shrugged her glistening shoulders and frowned, and smiled again, before stretching her long arms towards the silken curtains which, though she knew it not, gently blew against the figure of a man, who, p.r.o.ne upon his face, clenched his fingers in the soft stuff, striving to quieten the mad beating of his heart at the sound of the footsteps or the rustle of the raiment of the woman he loved, yea, and desired.

"Hahmed! Oh, Hahmed!"

As faint as the rose of the breaking dawn, as tender as the notes of a cooing dove calling gently to its mate, as soft as the touch of a flower-petal the words drifted through the curtain. With a whispered cry to Allah, his G.o.d, the man was upon his feet. With the strength of the oriental, which has its root in patience and its flower in achievement in all that appertains to love, he had uncomplainingly waited through month succeeding month, making no effort to further his cause by either word or movement, content to leave the outcome to the Fate which had inscribed upon the unending, non-beginning rolls of eternity the moment when that voice should break across the desert place in which lay his seed of love.

A rustle of the curtain, and he stood before the woman who loved and desired him, until her soul waxed faint within her.

For a s.p.a.ce they stood, the light from one great lamp striking down upon the little veil-wrapped figure and the man in flaming orange cloak over soft satin trousers and vest of black, one huge diamond blazing in the turban upon his dark head.

Silently Jill pointed to a chair carved out of ebony, the ends of the arms representing the snarling face of some wild beast, with great fangs of ivory, and staring ruby eyes flas.h.i.+ng in the lamplight.

As silently Hahmed sat down, never once removing his eyes from the girl who stood motionless upon a black panther skin, looking back over her half-turned shoulder at him for whom she was bidding against the unknown. Have you ever watched a rosebud unfold in the warmth of the sun, each petal quivering, widening, until the intoxicating scent of the flower goes to your head like wine as you faintly perceive the rose heart within?

In just such a way did Jill unfold her treasures to the Arab, sitting as some carven image in the shadow. The veil from her head slipped to the ground, leaving exposed her white face with its crimson mouth and shadow-laden eyes; slowly the cloak dropped from her shoulders, so that the whiteness of her skin blazed suddenly in the black marble room.

For one long moment she stood before her master in the strength of her virginal beauty, and even as a faint sigh broke the stillness, she moved.

Do not imagine for one moment that she copied the strenuous movements of Salome as understood at the Palace Theatre, London, or the disgusting contortions of certain orientals born in Montmartre, and favoured by the denizens of Paris.

Of very truth she moved not her lower limbs at all, though her exquisite body swayed as if by a pa.s.sing breeze, her little hands elaborating that which the body originated, the tiny feet punctuating the love story of both.

By one slight movement of her right arm she had told the man she loved him, by half-arrested gestures, a little shrug, an infinitesimal undulation of her body, a faint tapping of the left foot or the right, she described the delights of love, she who knew _nothing_, to him who knowing _all_, had denied himself all.

Heaven alone knows if she really understood that which she described; be that as it may, the man rose to his feet as she turned with outstretched arms towards him, moving almost imperceptibly from the waist, telling him that which her lips would not utter, until suddenly with a great cry he sprang towards her, and sweeping her into his arms, tore the coverings from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, until indeed like a lotus-bud she lay silent upon his heart. For one second he stood, and then he raised her above his head upon his outstretched hands, so that the great pins fell from her head and the perfumed hair like golden rain about his shoulders, then he flung her upon the bed of cus.h.i.+ons and stood above her with blazing eyes and dilated, quivering nostrils.

And then he knelt beside her, covering her gleaming nakedness with the cloak, and spoke softly in the Eastern tongue.

"I leave you, woman, to go and give orders for your journey to Cairo.

There shall you become my wife, my woman, for behold, I will no longer wait.

"Let not your thoughts dwell upon caprice or tricks of woman, for if you say me nay, _yet_ will I make you my wife, and force you unto me.

But you will not gainsay me, for behold you love me, so rest upon your bed for the three weeks which must pa.s.s before the caravan is ready for the journey, so that in health and strength and surpa.s.sing loveliness you will come to me."

And having knelt to kiss the rosy feet, he withdrew from the presence of his beloved, and the English girl turned on her face and sobbed, and then, gathering her cloak around her so as to hide the dishevelment of her raiment, pa.s.sed to the roof above to hold conclave with the stars.

CHAPTER x.x.x

It seems wellnigh impossible that an English maid could look with such equanimity upon the prospect of marriage with a man, an Eastern, of whom she knew nothing outside the tales and anecdotes recounted to her of his exploits and prowess, the which stood good to rival even the adventures of Haroun al Raschid.

As if an English girl, you will say, could ever _dream_ of such a thing--a girl brought up in England's best society!

True! brought up within a wall of convention, with her ears for ever filled with the everlasting tag, "It's not done, you know," that s.h.i.+bboleth which for stultifying all original effort surpa.s.ses even the mythical but revered sway of Mrs. Grundy. A girl whose brain, and originality, and deep pa.s.sions, must under the said circ.u.mstances and environment inevitably culminate in the same silver-haired, pink-cheeked, grandchildren-adoring old lady, who sees the regulation ending in England of the _brilliant_ girl, just as she sees the end of the girl whose brain registers the fact that the seaside is a place to be visited only in August; whose originality finds vent in the different coloured ribbons with which she adorns her dogs and her lingerie; whose pa.s.sions--oh well! who bothers about the little placid stream flowing without a ripple between the mud flats of that drear country habit?

No doubt about it, if money troubles had not given her the opportunity for which she had always craved, Jill _would_ have finally metamorphosed her brilliant self into that dear old dame who is as beloved and ubiquitous and uniform as the penny bun. But seeing her chance she had clutched at it with eager out-stretched hands, and in all these months she had not had one single regret, or one moment of longing for peaceful, grey-tinted England, or the friends with whom she had visited and hunted and done the hundred and one trivial things wealthy beautiful girls are accustomed to do in England, and who in her case had continued their social career without breaking their hearts or engagements on account of the monetary _debacle_ of their one time companion. Her instinct had not failed her in regard to the man who, without consulting her in any way, was even at that hour starting forth to arrange their marriage, and she troubled not her head with the thought of what _might_ have happened to her _if_ her instinct had failed her, though the chances are that rather than have even the outer petals of her womanhood bruised by the closing of a trap into which she might have placed her feet, she would have sent the vessel of her soul afloat down the great wide river ending in the ocean of eternity.

She was that most interesting and most rare cross-bred result of the elusive something, be it soul, imagination, or ecstasy which had turned a woman ancestress, created for the great honour of bearing children, into the nun, whose maternal instincts had feigned find solace in the marble or plaster child-image, and even that out of reach of those hands which should have trembled over swaddling clothes; and that pa.s.sion for love and light which had driven the dancing wayward feet of a Belle Marquise ancestress from love to love, until they had come to a standstill before Madame la Guillotine, who bothered not herself with those two minute extremities.

So that on waking after sweet slumber, Jill kissed the misshapen slave upon the cheek and told her the news, whereupon the dusky little woman raised her eyes and hands heavenwards, gibbering like a monkey, albeit she had just left an excited coterie of serving folk who, in the mysterious native way, had become acquainted with the news of the impending function without the uttering of one word from those most interested in an event which would mean fulfilment of dreams to more than one of those who had, for months past, pondered and commented on the strangeness of their master's love-affair.

And Jill in the softest pink raiment sat like the perfect heart of a perfect rose in the scented coolness of the pink chamber, and pa.s.sed the days designing garments of which it is useless to give a description, seeing that the womenfolk in Northern climes have only two notes on which to ring the changes of their wardrobe; the long, shroud-looking thing in silk or crepe de Chine or good honest nainsook, picked out in different coloured ribbons, or the romance killing, stove-pipe giving effect of the masculine pyjama.

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About Desert Love Part 17 novel

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