Haughtily erect, the bey advanced, followed by four Mamelukes in rich, gold-embroidered garments, who bore a casket covered with a purple cloth, whose golden fringe hung down to the ground.
As L'Elfi came near, his countenance assumed a deferential appearance, and, his arms crossed on his breast, he stepped forward and bowed profoundly before Sitta Nefysseh.
"Queen of my heart, sun of my eyes! Allow me to do homage, and to lay my present at your feet as a token of my devotion!"
He beckoned to the Mamelukes to come forward and lay the casket down before her.
"I rejoice that you have come, L'Elfi," said Nefysseh, quietly. "I rejoice, because it proves that your wounds are now healed, as are those of Osman Bey. Yet, I see no necessity for such outward proofs of your friendship."
"O Sitta Nefysseh!" cried L'Elfi. "One brings his offerings to the good spirits, and, if I were a heathen, I would say, 'I lay on the altar of my goddess the tokens of my adoration, of my love!'"
"You are, however, no heathen, but a Moslem; and what becomes a heathen does not become the brave Mameluke L'Elfi Bey!"
"What I am elsewhere is forgotten," cried L'Elfi; "here I am nothing but your slave, nothing but a man who would gladly pluck the stars from heaven to lay them at your feet! Therefore allow me to do homage to my queen as my heart prompts!"
He drew the cloth from the casket, and golden dishes, goblets, and vases, glittered in the sunshine; and these vessels contained jewelry of varied design, set with precious stones that would have delighted the eyes of many.
Sitta Nefysseh regarded all this magnificence with an air of indifference.
"Accept the offering my adoration lays at your feet!" entreated L'Elfi. "You know I was with the British general in England, and, while there, I thought of you, and, before the ship left London, it was for days my sole occupation and endeavor to select beautiful things for you from among the articles displayed in the magnificent stores. I could not bring them with me, but they were sent after me, and have this day arrived. Pray accept them at the hands of your slave!"
"It seems to me that no one is privileged to offer Mourad Bey's widow presents of such value," said she, almost severely. "Yet," she continued in milder tones, "I will not humiliate him who was my husband's friend and companion. I will accept your gifts; they shall be placed in the saloon, and all the world shall see how L'Elfi Bey seeks to honor the widow of his former chieftain and friend. Thus will I accept your gifts, and give you thanks for them!--Come, Osman Bardissi!" she continued in louder tones, beckoning to the bey, who stood without in the shade of an oleander-tree--"come and see the magnificent presents which L'Elfi Bey has brought me from England!"
L'Elfi's countenance darkened, and he recoiled a step almost in anger. "What! Osman Bey is here?"
"And why not? He has recovered from the wounds received at Aboukir. Does it not become him to pay his respects to me? He has this privilege in common with yourself."
"True, my queen; pray forgive me for daring to find fault with your pleasure.--I greet you, Osman Bey Bardissi. I am glad to see you here! And now, I pray you, let me also see the gifts which you have brought the Rose of Cairo in token of your reverence and devotion. What becomes you, becomes me also; and, as Sitta Nefysseh has allowed you to see what I have brought, she will not refuse to permit me to see the offering of your devotion."
"You shall see it, L'Elfi Bey," said Osman, in a somewhat derisive tone. He stepped to the lattice-work of the kiosk, and, plucking the most beautiful crimson rose he could see, knelt down before Sitta Nefysseh and laid it at her feet. "This, Sitta, is my gift. I lay at your feet, the most beautiful of your sisters, your image!"
She smiled. "I thank you, Osman Bey, and gladly accept your offering, for Allah has created it."
He handed her the rose. She took it, held it to her face, and inhaled its fragrance. She then gracefully fell back on her cushion.
"Arise, Bardissi!" said she. "I have accepted the gifts of both of you; and, now that you are both the same in sentiment, but one thing is wanting."
"And what is this one thing still wanting?"
"Grasp each other's hands," said she, smiling. "I know that you have long been at enmity with each other; discord prevails in the land of my great beys. Let hatred now be set aside. You are both mighty and renowned, but your power will be much greater if you join hands. Let your followers see that you stand united against the common enemy. Oh, how can the fatherland be saved when its defenders are at enmity with each other! The enemy has grown stronger. You know that new troops have arrived here from Turkey, and a man is at their head, of whom I will announce to you that he is dangerous. Therefore grasp hands, and let me see that you are friends!"
"Then let it be so," said Bardissi, after a pause. "See, Sitta Nefysseh, how great your power over me.--Here, L'Elfi, my hand! Let us unitedly face the enemy!"
L'Elfi slowly and hesitatingly laid his band in that of Osman Bey. "I accept your hand, Osman, in token of our resolve to confront the enemy together. But, before I declare myself your friend, I must first know whether you are my rival or not."
Osman Bey quickly withdrew his hand. "A rival, L'Elfi! and with whom do you suppose me to be your rival?"
"With you, O Sitta Nefysseh!" said L'Elfi, falling on his knee before her, "With you, whom I adore as one adores the sun and the stars. For your love, I can tolerate no rival!--And now I beg you to withdraw, Osman Bey; I have that to say to Sitta Nefysseh which no other should hear."
Osman regarded him fiercely. "I should like to know if L'Elfi is privileged to advise or command Osman Bey Bardissi here, where it devolves upon Sitta Nefysseh alone to determine who shall go, and who remain."
"Then decide, O Sitta!" said L'Elfi.
"You shall both go; neither shall remain," replied she, sadly. "I see that you are still enemies. Oh, I tell you, you will reap a bitter harvest from this bitter seed. The struggle, in which you should present to the enemy a united front, already begins, and you are still at enmity. Therefore, I say to you, leave me, and return no more; while hatred exists between you, you shall never more come into my presence!"
"Forgiveness, forgiveness! Our hatred shall be forgotten!" exclaimed both, falling upon their knees before her.
"My only entreaty is this," cried L'Elfi. "Allow me a brief quarter of an hour. Was not Osman Bey honored with an audience alone, and would it not become you to show me the same favor?"
"He was the first who came," replied she, quickly, "and, therefore, was I alone with him. Had you accompanied him, you would have heard what he had to say, just as he shall hear what you have to say."
"Then let it be so; he shall hear!" exclaimed L'Elfi, springing to his feet. He first turned haughtily to Osman Bey, and then bowed profoundly before Sitta Nefysseh. "Let the whole world hear what L'Elfi has to say to the widow of his friend. He comes here to lay all he possesses at your feet. He desires to consecrate to you his life and heart's blood, and entreats the loveliest and noblest of women to hear his prayers. L'Elfi is free! No wife has ever stood at his side; he has no harem, as many others have. He has never, like others, reclined on soft cushions gazing at the dancing of the voluptuous almehs--has loved naught but his sword and ataghan; but his heart is now inclined in love and humility toward you, the only woman it owns as its mistress; and I now entreat you, O Sitta Nefysseh, queen of my heart, become also queen of my house and harem."
"As he entreats, so do I entreat also!" cried Osman Bey, in angry tones, thrusting L'Elfi aside, and falling on his knee before her. "Be mine, Nefysseh! True, I have loved others, and have also looked with pleasure at the dancing of the female slaves in the harem, yet I have hitherto adored no woman. Military glory, my adoration heretofore, grows pale when Sitta Nefysseh appears, and all else that I have loved and hoped for is as nothing in her presence. For your sake, I will sacrifice not only life, but renown. Command, and I will be your slave; at your feet will I lay my sword and dagger. With my head bowed down, and my beard shorn, will I follow you into the desert, blessing each day and hour in which I am permitted to look upon my queen. Now, O Sitta Nefysseh, you know what Osman Bey Bardissi feels, and that he can boast of a greater love than L'Elfi; he even offers to sacrifice renown for you! Decide whom you will bless, Nefysseh! One thing more I will say to you: if you select the hand of my rival, and command me to love him, I cannot promise to do so! Yet this I swear, that I will be contented with your choice, and that I will never seek to take or shorten his life. Consider, Nefysseh, that this is the most enormous sacrifice that Osman can make for the woman he loves; he promises not to kill him upon whom she bestows her hand."
"And you, L'Elfi," said Nefysseh, in a soft voice, "will you swear the same?"
"I will," cried L'Elfi. "I swear that I will do as Osman Bey has said--I will still detest my enemy, but I will not kill him whom you love. Now speak, Sitta Nefysseh, and decide between us!"
For a moment all were silent. The two beys awaited her decision with wildly-throbbing hearts. She was still silent, her large eyes turned toward heaven with a wondrous expression.
At this moment the song of the slaves, accompanied by the music of the clarinet and violin, again resounded from the midst of the oleander and rose-bushes. The voice of a slave arose, singing of a slave who loves his mistress, and dies because of her indifference. He has borne this bitter sorrow for long days and nights, and dares not tell the tale of his love. He bore it, and was blessed in being permitted to see her, but her heart was cold and knew no love for him. But greater unhappiness was in store for him. One day there came a proud and mighty bey, and succeeded in winning the love of his adored; and Fate willed it that the poor, tortured slave should see her eyes fixed on the bey in a loving gaze, and he also saw him fall on his knees before his mistress and take her hand and carry it to his lips. Then the poor slave's heart broke, and, falling to the earth, he died, sighing, "I love thee!"
All three had listened to the sad air and words of the song. Sitta Nefysseh now turned to the beys.
"This song has no bearing upon you. You will never see Sitta Nefysseh give her love and hand to another! You who were my husband's friends I will ever consider my friends! But hear me: Mourad's widow will never marry again! As I knelt at the death-bed of my husband, bathing his wound with my tears, I swore that I would ever remain true to him I had loved so ardently my life long, and never become the wife of another. And now I ask, noble beys, can you desire Mourad's widow to perjure herself? I know you will say the heart knows no oaths, love cannot be restrained. That may be, but do not speak of it to me. You have come to ask with which of you I will share the remainder of my days; I ask you, decide yourselves, can I break this solemn oath?"
The two beys bow their heads still deeper, and sigh profoundly.
"Decide!" repeated Sitta Nefysseh.
They raise their heads and gaze at her sadly. "No, Sitta Nefysseh! You may not break the oath to your husband, sworn in the name of Allah and the prophet! No, you can never bestow your hand upon another. Alas, that this is so! alas, that we must submit!"
"No, it is well that it is so!" said Sitta Nefysseh, with a soft smile. "Mourad's widow has the right to be the friend of both of you; she may hold out her hands to you and say: `Be my friends, my brothers, and, as you love me, also love one another.' For the second time I entreat you, grasp each other's hands and be friends. For both let there be one common enemy--the enemy who confronts you on the field of battle--the Turk! Grasp hands in love and friendship!"
The two beys grasped each other's hands firmly.
"Let it be as our friend and sister wishes; she shall see us united. Let there be for us but one common enemy--the Turk!"
"An enemy who grows stronger each day!" said Sitta Nefysseh. "We thought to have peace when the Franks should have left, but unfortunately it is not so. The Turks are resolved to subjugate us. I know they will not rest until they have overthrown and destroyed the haughty Mameluke beys! They are continually bringing new troops, into the country, and their leader is a dangerous enemy, believe me!"
"For the second time you speak of this `dangerous enemy.' Tell us, Sitta, who is he?"
"He it is," said she, in earnest tones, "who brought the letter to the capitan pacha at Aboukir; he it is who confronted you in that bloody struggle, and whose courage, boldness, and determination, captured the stronghold Rosetta. I have read the countenance of the sarechsme, and in his eye I have recognized the lion and the fox combined. Before him, I for the first time in my life experienced fear. Beware of him; if possible, make a friend of him, for the sarechsme, Mohammed Ali, would prove a mighty ally!"
"I know him well," said Osman Bey, smiling. "I met him when a boy, and even then we confronted each other as enemies. A short time since I met him again, and he then protected me from the fury of his soldiers; and I am grateful. I will endeavor, Sitta, to win him over to our interests, as you suggest. If we succeed, and when this formidable enemy shall have become our ally, the Mameluke beys will have great cause to congratulate themselves, and thank Sitta Nefysseh again."
"The only proof of your gratitude that I ask is, that you stand united. Thank me by pronouncing my name when you stand side by side on the battle-field, from which you have driven the enemy!"
"We will do so. Your name will I pronounce when I go out to battle! And your name will my lips utter, O Sitta Nefysseh, when I sink down upon the bloody field!" Thus spoke both, and then bowed profoundly before Mourad's widow.
"And now you may go," said she, gently. "Walk arm-in-arm through the Muskj Street, that all the world may see that the two greatest Mameluke beys are friends. If these are united, then will the struggle soon terminate. Now go and show the people that you are friends."
"And if they express surprise at our friendship," cried Osman Bey, his eyes sparkling, "we will say Mourad's widow wills it so, and we humbly and cheerfully obey."
"Yes, we will say this," cried l'Elfi, joyously. "Mourad's widow commanded us to be united, and therefore are we united.--And now let us go, Osman Bey; it is, however, not necessary that we walk arm-in- arm here; only when we have passed the threshold of this house shall Osman give me his arm, that the world may see your influence over us."
Osman Bey walked rapidly down the avenue. L'Elfi followed him slowly and hesitatingly, looking back twice at Sitta Nefysseh. The latter waved her hand deprecatingly, and he then rapidly followed Osman.
Sitta Nefysseh sighed profoundly as the two disappeared through the gateway, falling back upon her cushions as if overwhelmed with grief. She heard nothing of the music, that still resounded from the rose-bushes; she heard only the secret and sacred voices which lamented in her soul, and she shuddered at what they said.
"No, no, it may not be," said she to herself. "I saved myself from their importunity by the falsehood of the oath. I never swore to my husband that Mourad's wife would become the wife of no other. It was not because an oath bound her that she rejected them; but because her heart so willed it. Not without love is Mourad's widow; but whom she loves no one must know, no one must even suspect."
She arose and threw back her veil to wipe away the tears that burned her eyes. Suddenly she trembled, a deep blush overspreading her countenance. She saw the young kachef Youssouf coming up the walk. She saw his proud, erect figure, his countenance full of youthful freshness and nobility. She drew heir veil more closely about her; but the veil cannot hide the brightness of her eyes. They fairly sparkled as he advanced. He approached slowly. She seemed not to see him, leaned back on her cushions, raised the crimson rose to her face, and inhaled its fragrance. Kachef Youssouf, his arms folded on his breast, stood at the entrance of the kiosk.
"Sitta Nefysseh, mistress, you command to have your carriage ready, as you wished to drive out at this hour. It is ready, and I humbly ask if it is your pleasure to go now, and if I may have the honor of accompanying your suite, and riding at the side of your carriage?"
Sitta Nefysseh, who was still inhaling the fragrance of the rose, slowly let fall her hand to her side, and the flower fell from her fingers to the ground.
"You are an attentive, punctual servant," said she. "I thank you; I will drive out at once with two of my women; you may ride beside my carriage."
Sitta Nefysseh arose and left the kiosk. She passed close by him, and her white veil lightly touched Youssouf's shoulder. He stood as if touched by a magic wand and fixed to the spot. He could not follow his mistress, who walked proudly toward the place where the women awaited her. He followed her with his eyes, however, and saw how her long flowing garment adjusted itself to her lovely figure, and how her white veil fluttered about her noble head, enveloping it as with a delicate white cloud.
"Would that I were the wind that kisses your cheek!" murmured he, lost in contemplation of his idol. "Would I were the sand your foot blesses with its touch! To die near you, beholding you in death, were heavenly bliss."
Sitta Nefysseh had disappeared behind the clump of bushes. Kachef Youssouf still stood before the kiosk. He listened. The music had ceased. He knew that his mistress was returning with her women to the house. He hastily glanced around the garden, fastening his large, black eyes, on every bush, as if expecting to find an enemy concealed there. No one is to be seen. Only Heaven and the bees in the air see Youssouf as he rushes into the kiosk, picks up the rose, presses it passionately to his lips, and then conceals it in his bosom.
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