FREDERICK CONDUCTED TO THE PRINCESS' HAREM.
Frederick was in the harem of the famous Princess M.
Emerging from the comparative darkness of the gardens, Frederick was fairly dazzled by the brilliancy of the scene which met his eyes. He found himself in a lofty apartment, the walls of which were entirely covered with silver brocade. White velvet divans ran all around the room, and from the painted ceiling hung a rock-crystal chandelier, lighted by at least a hundred wax candles. Great masses of blooming camellias, azalias, and tuberoses were tastefully arranged in silver vases on tables of transparent jade. The floor was covered with a white velvet carpet richly embroidered with silver, and the windows were hung with fairy-like draperies of silver gauze and point lace.
At the farther end of the apartment was a kind of broad, oriental divan, and there, nestling among a pile of cushions, reclined the jewel of which all the splendors above described formed but the unworthy setting. Princess Louba, a little over twenty-two years of age at the time, was certainly one of the loveliest women of the day. Tall and exquisitely proportioned, her hands and feet were marvelously small and the rich contours of her figure were absolutely perfect. She had one of those dead white complexions, ever so delicately tinted with pink, which remind one of the petal of a tea-rose or the interior of a shell. Her large, languid black eyes were shaded by long and curly eyelashes, and her straight eyebrows almost met over a small, aquiline nose, the sensuous nostrils of which quivered at the slightest emotion. In piquant contrast to her dark eyes, her hair, of a pale golden color, hung down to below her knees. She was dressed in a long “djebba,” or loose robe of white crepe de chine, the semi-transparent folds of which clung to her form as the morning dew clings to a flower which it is loth to conceal.
For several minutes Frederick stood as if transfixed, unable to remove his fevered gaze from the lovely apparition which rendered him blind to all else. He could see nothing but the princess, as she lay there in all her indolent beauty.
The “Muezzin” droning forth his harmonious summons to prayers from the loftiest galleries of the minarets, had but just notified the faithful that it was two hours after midnight, when suddenly one of the curtains was softly drawn aside, and a woman scarcely less beautiful than the princess herself glided into the room.
Her largo violet eyes flashed triumphantly, and a mocking, cruel smile hovered around her red lips as she advanced toward the princess and her lover.
“Enfin! Louba Hanem!” exclaimed she, in French. “At length I have you in my power! Revenge always comes to those who can afford to wait! For months and months you have been the favorite of our lord, the pearl of surpassing value, beside whom all were but as dross, the treasure of his heart and the joy of his life, while I—I—was left far behind—hardly noticed—often repulsed—I, who am as beautiful as you, and who love him with a love of which you are utterly incapable! How often have I besought Allah to grant me my revenge! He has heard my prayer! for within the hour that is now passing away our lord will have slain both your lover and yourself! Even at this very moment you are being watched, and at a sign from me he will be summoned hither to behold with his own eyes the shameful manner in which you betray him with a dog of an unbeliever!”
Princess Louba had meanwhile started to her feet, and stood there in all her glorious beauty, white and trembling with rage and with terror.
“Who is it that will dare to raise his or her hand against me, the daughter of his highness! Who are you but a mere slave—a toy bought by our lord! The pastime of one short hour, thereafter to be flung back into the depths of ignominy from which you were raised by his hand! You shall suffer cruelly for your present insolence. I will cause you to be whipped until every particle of skin has been torn from your body.”