‘Would that I had; for then I could pay two hundred thousand piastres to that Egyptian camel, Scheriff Effendi, and he would give me up my muskets, which now, like a true son of Eblis, he obstinately retains.’
‘And this is your scrape, Fakredeen. And how much have you towards the sum?’
‘Not a piastre; nor do I suppose I shall ever see, until I make a great financial stroke, so much of the sultan’s gold as is on one of the gilt balls of roses in your nargileh. My crops are sold for next year, my jewels are gone, my studs are to be broken up. There is not a cur in the streets of Beiroot of whom I have not borrowed money. Riza Pasha is a sponge that would dry the sea of Galilee.’
‘It is a great thing to have gained the Patriarch of Lebanon,’ said the lady; ‘I always felt that, as long as that man was against you, the Maronites never could be depended on. And yet these arms; after all, they are of no use, for you would not think of insurrection!’
‘No; but they can quarrel with the Druses, and cut each other’s throats, and this will make the mountain more unmanageable than ever, and the English will have no customers for their calicoes, don’t you see? Lord Palmerston will arraign the minister in the council. I shall pay off Aberdeen for enclosing the Archbishop’s letter to Guizot. Combination upon combination! The calico merchants will call out for a prince of the house of Shehaab! Riza will propose me; Bourqueney will not murmur, and Sir Canning, finding he is in a mess, will sign a fine note of words about the peace of Europe and the prosperity of Lebanon, and ‘tis finished.’
‘And my father, you have seen him?’
‘I have seen him,’ said the young Emir, and he cast his eyes on the ground.
‘He has done so much,’ said Eva.
‘Ask him to do more, Rose of Sharon,’ said Fakredeen, like a child about to cry for a toy, and he threw himself on his knees before Eva, and kept kissing her robe. ‘Ask him to do more,’ he repeated, in a suppressed tone of heart-rending cajolery; ‘he can refuse you nothing. Ask him, ask him, Eva! I have no friend in the world but you; I am so desolate. You have always been my friend, my counsellor, my darling, my ruby, my pearl, my rose of Rocnabad! Ask him, Eva; never mind my faults; you know me by heart; only ask him!’
She shook her head.