第68章

"No sign of her yet," said one of the eunuchs to the other. "Woe to the girl if she dares to deceive our mighty master! She thinks, perhaps, he will abandon his claim. There will be a nice piece of work to be done tomorrow. Cousrouf Pacha, our mighty master, is not in the habit of being trifled with. He will send us down after his property, and there will be no lack of bloody heads in Praousta, tomorrow; for we shall certainly have to regain possession of this slave. He says she accepted the purchase-money, and she therefore belongs to the master who bought her. Will she come, or shall we have to get possession of her by force tomorrow?""I hope she will come of her own word," said the other. "These fishermen are so brave, and have such hard fists.""And I hope she will not," said the first, laughing. "We must take her by force. I should relish just such a row. If they have hard fists, we have sharp, glittering weapons. And then, as you know, the soldiers are coming to take up their quarters here tomorrow; the tschorbadji will send a part of them to help us when the company arrives."The pacha is still standing at the window, looking out into the night. He raises his hands threateningly, and his eyes glitter like those of the panther, lying in wait for his prey.

"Woe to her if she breaks the triple oath! Cousrouf Pacha will know how to avenge himself. She must become mine--she is mine already. Ihave bought this slave, and, by Allah, what I have bought I will also possess!"At last, day dawns. The sun sends out into the heavens its purple heralds, and it begins to grow lighter in the garden. The pacha now sees a figure coming up the walk. It is one of the eunuchs. He goes noiselessly into the house, to his master.

"Has she come?" asks he, with quivering lips.

"No, master, she has not come. The path that leads up from the village is still empty. Shall we wait longer, master?"" No," he gruffly replies. "Lock the gate and retire to the harem.

It must be a misunderstanding; she supposed I meant the following evening. Go!"The eunuch prostrates himself to the earth, and takes his departure, gliding stealthily out into the garden. When he feels assured that no one can see or hear him, be stands still, and laughs mockingly:

"It is a great pleasure to see a grand gentleman now and then humiliated like the rest of us. He was terribly annoyed; I could tell it by his voice. Serves him right! I am delighted to see that grand gentlemen have to put up with disagreeable things sometimes, too--truly delighted."With a sorrowful expression of countenance he now walks on down to the garden-gate, where the other eunuch is waiting, and tells him his gracious master has made his reckoning without his host, and that his purchased slave's failure to come has grieved him deeply.

They looked at each other, and the dawning light showed that they nodded triumphantly, with a malicious, mocking grin. They understood each other well, without telling in words what they were laughing about and rejoicing over.

The morning had come in its full splendor, and the town and village had again awakened to life and activity. The sheik, too, had arisen;had already turned to the east, and finished his prayers, and repaired to his daughter's room. She had told him, through her servant, the evening before, that she would come to him early in the morning, to hand him his coffee and chibouque. But Masa, did not come, and the father's heart is filled with an inexplicable feeling of anxiety. He hastily ascends the stairway. Djumeila no longer watches before the door; she has gone, and is perhaps busied with her morning occupations.

The sheik opens the door of his daughter's sitting-room.

"Masa" he cries, "it is time to come down to breakfast." He supposes she is within, in her bedchamber, and has not heard him. "Masa," he cries again, "come out, my child, come to your father."All is still as before. He calls for the third time; no one replies.

"Masa, where are you, my child?" The sheik anxiously walks through the sitting-room to the little chamber where his daughter's bed stands: no one there either. " Masa, my child, my darling, where are you?"He stands still, listening for an answer; he breathes heavily when as yet no answer comes, but consoles himself with the thought that she has already gone down, and is awaiting him below, while he is seeking her in her rooms above.

Hastily, with the quick step of youth, the sheik descends the stairway again, but Masa was not there. The father's calls grow louder and more anxious.

"Masa, where are you? My beloved child, come to your father."All remains still. No answer comes to the father's anxious calls.

The sheik now hurries to the kitchen, where breakfast is being prepared; Djumeila is standing there at the hearth, perfectly composed, attending to her cooking. She salutes her master with a deferential air.

"Where is Masa, my daughter? " cries the sheik.

"I do not know, master," she quietly replies; "I have not yet seen her today. Early in the morning, before sunrise, I went out to the meadow to milk the goats, that my child, my darling Masa, might have fresh sweet milk for her breakfast; since then I have been occupied with getting breakfast ready, and now you ask me 'Where is Masa?'""Spare your words and listen: Masa has vanished; Masa is not in her room."Djumeila cries out loudly: "Where is Masa? where is my white dove?"She rushes out and runs to her mistress's room; and, not finding her there, falls to weeping and wringing her hands in despair.

"Where is my beloved child? she is not with her father, she is not in her room." She then hastens to the other maid-servant. "Where is Masa? has no one seen my master's daughter? has no one seen my beloved child?"The sheik stood in the hall and listened to Djumeila's cries and the answer of the other servant. He then walked rapidly all over the house again, called his daughter's name loudly once more, and stood still to listen for an answer.