CHAPTER IX
The son of Yâcûb longed to be alone and weep his fill, but could not leave Elias in possession. It was as a dumb and piteous plea against the usurpation of Elias, and not from any hope of reinstatement, that he attended the Emîr that afternoon, when the dragoman led them among the stinking alleys of the town, under archways and through private houses, pointing out sites of interest which Iskender felt sure were of his own invention; and he very soon wished that he had kept away. For Elias, according to his promise, "brought him forward," begging the Emîr to have compassion on him, because he was a good boy and devoted to his Honour's service. Iskender could only mutter, shamefaced, when the Frank addressed him.
"Why did you deceive me? I thought you were well off, or I should never have accepted all those presents. Now you must please accept a trifle from me."
Iskender found in his hand a piece of gold, and saw Elias nodding and grimacing. He murmured words of thanks perfunctorily, the while he gnashed his teeth with secret rage. Such kindness was an outrage to his love, being given at the bidding, in the presence, of the rogue Elias. The cup of his humiliation overflowed.
"Now all is well," Elias told him afterwards. "Be thankful that thou hast a friend like me. He smiled on thee; he gave thee money. Thou art back in favour."
Iskender was obliged to thank him kindly. What his soul needed was to be alone with his Emîr, to throw himself at his feet, and win his true forgiveness. The casual kind word with a fee was worse than nothing in the realm of love. But Elias, as if of fixed intent to thwart him, stood always in the way, annihilating the unhappy youth with condescension, bidding him cheer up and amuse his Honour. Iskender heard his rattle with a stupid admiration which the Emîr's applauding laughter made quite envious. He himself had fallen to the level of a mere serving-lad, to run his Honour's errands and be tipped occasionally.
His mother judged that things were thriving with him, since he brought home money; and he did not undeceive her, wishing to keep his grievous fall a secret as long as possible; though soon, he feared, it must be evident to all the world. Already Yuhanna and the other dragomans jeered at him in the streets, acclaiming the triumph of Elias, their own comrade. He thought of invoking the aid of his uncle Abdullah, but that respectable man was for the moment absent on Cook's business. There seemed no hope of success by his own efforts, for in the presence of the Emîr he could not now think clearly, nor find a word to please. Distress of longing set a cloud upon his brow, a weight upon his tongue, which was not lightened when Elias chaffed him for a dull companion.
It was only when alone that he regained his normal wit; and then his soul leapt up in envy of the brilliant dragoman. Elias was clever; he had seen the world; his position as a dragoman would bear inspection. No wonder that the Frank preferred him to the son of a poor washerwoman, whose lowliness Elias himself was always emphasising. Thus attacked, and without defence, since there was no denying that his origin was humble, Iskender's pride took refuge in its old imaginings. Walking to the hotel, he would picture himself a king's son in disguise, or else the owner of enormous treasure; would smile, and clench his hands, and step exultantly; would think:
"If the Emîr but knew me as I really am!" But, approaching the Emîr, such fancies vanished. They were of no use because no one would believe them. It took Elias to give truth to wondrous stories by judiciously eschewing points that could be verified. Iskender, in great anguish, prayed to Allah to destroy Elias, or at least to teach His servant a true story, that he might outshine the miscreant. Dazzled by the triumph of that splendid liar, he thought of story-telling as the only way to the Emîr's good graces; and lay awake whole nights constructing fables which the first faint light of dawn showed to be worthless.
An appeal to the good nature of his rival failed irrevocably. When Iskender entreated to be left alone with his Emîr, were it but for five minutes, Elias stiffened, crying:
"Curse thy father! What means this plaintive whisper in my ear? Thy Emîr! He was thine by his own will, and has tired of thee. Now he is my Emîr. It is natural he should prefer the society of a grown man who has dwelt in England, and acquired the manner of its nobles, to that of a loutish, sullen boy, untravelled, ignorant! Behold, I have stood thy friend. But for me, he would have cast thee off entirely.… Leave thee alone with him? No, by Allah, that I will not—and have thee telling wicked lies against me."
Iskender turned away in great unhappiness, deeming his last hope gone.
That night he lay awake and thought of wealth as the only power that could confound his enemies. At last he fell asleep and dreamt of gold—nothing but gold; small rounded pebbles of it clothed the ground for miles. It was more, ten thousand times, than all the wealth of all the kingdoms put together. The sky above was black as pitch, though something told him that the hour was noon; the gold put out the sun. "All mine!" he thought, and was preparing to gather it, but some one stopped him with an iron hand; and then he woke, to hear his mother's snores and see the flicker of the night-light on the rafters.
His first sensations were of disappointment as though great wealth had really lain within his grasp. But presently as he pondered on the vision, his heart leapt up with exultation at the thought that here was the nucleus of a story, marvellous as any that Elias had related, and true, for who save Allah had surveyed the whole wide world, and could deny the existence somewhere of a plain all gold. Moreover, it would be a story after the Emîr's own heart, concerning, as it would, the search for treasure.
"If I say that I myself beheld the place, it will be false," thought Iskender to himself, "because I am young and every one knows that I have never travelled. But suppose I say my father saw it, then it will be true, for my father is dead and he travelled far in his day, and Allah alone knows what he saw or did not see."
The rest of that night was spent upon the story, considering in what manner it should be revealed, with what precautions and what vows of secrecy. As it shaped itself in his mind it seemed a fortune hardly less than that he had beheld in sleep. He rose at daybreak, thought-worn but light of heart. As it happened, that morning, his mother sent him to the Mission with a message concerning some mistake she had discovered in the tale of the last week's washing. He had to wait the pleasure of the ladies, to carry a message from them to his mother, and bring back her answer; so that it was past the usual hour when he reached the hotel. He met the Emîr and Elias going out together.
"His Excellency has graciously consented to honour with his presence an orange-garden which belongs to me," said the dragoman to Iskender in Arabic. "The weather is fine, like summer; the fruit ripens. It will be pleasant reclining in the shade."
The whole world swam before Iskender's eyes around the handsome figure of Elias, whose scarlet dust-cloak seemed a flame of fire. What was a plain of gold in the truest of stories to compare with an orange-garden actually existent close at hand? He had prepared to vanquish Elias in one sphere, and the coward leapt into another where he could not reach him. Never till now had he heard that Elias owned a garden. This was the end. Iskender resigned a contest so unequal. He heard the Emîr invite him to go with them, but shook his head, quite unable to articulate a reply. The despair of his mother, the hateful triumph of the missionaries, the derisive laughter of the dragomans, came before his mind. Some one, passing by, gave a chuckle. He sprang to self-consciousness with the impression that the whole world laughed. The doorway of the hotel was near. He fled through it, pretending that he had come to claim the sketching things he was wont to leave in charge of the doorkeeper. With those in his hands he hurried forth again, glad to escape the negro's friendly grin.