“But you will find her an indulgent mistress, if you do your duty.”
“That is, if I do not thwart her royal will. The tawny lion will purr under your touch if you cram his ravenous maw, and leave him the fierce liberty of his instincts. Sovereigns are never kind, lady, either from humanity or compassion, but merely to gratify their own selfishness; I therefore despise royal favours, and would rather labour in this garden under the fierce glow of a meridian sun, with such an object near me, to inspirit the dull hours of toil, as my eyes are now permitted to gaze upon, than be the fantastic puppet of a queen’s bounty.”
“Well, but you will be summoned shortly before the presence,” said Bameea, reddening; “and—and—I trust you will throw no impediments in the way of being near the Sultana, because——”
“Why that pause?”
“Oh! because——”
“Nay, my decision will depend upon your answer, lady.”
“Because, I think you would be pleasant company sometimes, when our royal mistress lacks amusement, and our wits are dull, and cannot furnish it. Believe me, you’ll find agreeable companions.” Saying this, she tripped lightly off, as if she feared something from his reply that she would rather avoid hearing. The Abyssinian watched her receding figure as she glided down the path, until she was lost amidst its sinuosities, the walk being bounded on either side by tall shrubs.
Yakoot mused upon the past event. Bameea had not been sent to summon him. Why then did she come to apprise him of the Sultana’s intention. No such intimation was necessary. It was evidently given at the suggestion of her own wishes. The slave was a man of ready penetration, and with instinctive sagacity peculiar to eastern nations in all matters concerning a reciprocation of the senses, he began to think that he was not an object of indifference to the interesting girl who had just quitted him. This was a sunlight to the darkness that had lately clouded his soul, and the fountain of life seemed again to gush fresh and sparkling within him, as if animated with new energy. Slavery might be a boon instead of a bane, and his soul was comforted.
Not long after Bameea’s departure, Yakoot was summoned to attend the Sultana. He instantly followed the messengers, and passed into the royal presence. Ruzeea Begum was seated upon a fine cashmere shawl spread over a thick rug woven from the same wool, and worked in the richest devices. Behind her stood Bameea, waving over her mistress’s head a beautiful bird of Paradise. Beside the latter was a gold ewer containing perfumes which produced around her an atmosphere of delicious fragrance. Her hookha, sparkling with gems, stood on her left hand, the highly decorated tube resting on a brocaded cushion. Her slippers, formed of the finest Bagdat tissue, worked in gold and embroidered with pearls, were placed beyond the rug upon a costly japan tray. A small circular mirror of burnished steel in a silver frame, and having a handle of the same metal, lay upon her lap. This she occasionally raised in order that she might ascertain if the henna had been properly applied to her eyelids, or if the various cosmetics employed in her toilet had produced their proper effects.
The Sultana’s dress consisted of fine white muslin worked in gold, disposed round her body in loose flowing drapery, and covering trousers of the palest sky-blue silk, fastened at the ankles by bands of woven gold. On her head she wore a plain turban, loosely twisted round her high broad forehead, and composed of white cashmere. When the Abyssinian entered, she beckoned him to approach, without raising her eyes from the mirror upon which she had at that moment fixed them. He advanced with manly reverence, but not in the smallest degree awed by the presence of the sovereign, whose voice was a fiat, and her will an ordinance.