But their combined advice, and the cunning suggestions thrown in, had not so much influence in subduing that raging temper, in my opinion, as her bonds, which made the proud woman appear absurdly helpless before the sneering husband.
At 3 P.M. she sent a pitiful message to me that I would cause her release, but she was sternly told that her voice had no power, nor her beauty any charms for me; that she must appeal to her husband. Accordingly she turned to Mohammed, and meekly implored her lord to go and plead for her, that her bonds pained her, and that she would in future obey him devotedly.
Then Mohammed came, with his face radiant with triumphant emotions, and relieved of those jealous wrinkles which had so disfigured it, and interceded for her release. This was granted, with an advice not to let his fondness become folly; to be commanding in tone, and austerely distant for a few days, otherwise she would regain her lost advantages.
She was permitted to resume her duties in the Pasha’s household. At night she meekly returned to her husband’s house of her own accord. Let us hope that peace will spread her wings over the disturbed family for the future. Amen!
April 5th.—This morning Serour, a boy of Monbuttu land, belonging to the Pasha’s household, informed me that only two of the Pasha’s servants intended to follow him out of this camp. He stated that after the Pasha had questioned his servants, the day before yesterday, they had gone apart and consulted among themselves, and that they had finally resolved to let him depart without them—orderlies, guards, clerks, and servants, all except Bilal and he, Serour.
“But are you sure that you will go with him?”
“I don’t know. If all my friends remain behind, what shall I do alone?”
“Well, then, only Bilal is certain of going?”
“Yes.”
1889.
April 5.
Kavalli’s.