“In sh´Allah, he will rise to rule in Egypt; he will be the right hand of the Khedive, the chief vizier, the leader of the armies; the sword and shield of El Islâm, the scourge of Allah on the heathen and all infidels.”
Thus Umm ed-Dahak, seated on the floor beside her mistress; who, reclining on the dais at ease with her narghileh, removed the amber mouthpiece from her lips to sigh, “In sh´Allah!”
In order to be worthy of her son’s magnificence, Barakah had evolved a fine romantic history out of her own past. The transmutation of that dross to gold took place so naturally that she was not aware of lying when she told her crony that she was of royal birth. Gentility being something inconceivable by Umm ed-Dahak, who knew of no inherited prestige save that of an Emîr, she was obliged, in order to convey the status of a governess, to compare it with the lot of fallen princes. From thence to the invention of a principality was but a step. The remonstrance of the Consul and of Mrs. Cameron against her marriage became the rage of a fanatical and angry nation. The noise of her conversion had disturbed all Europe, and nearly brought on a religious war. Let Umm ed-Dahak ask the Pasha, if she doubted!
But Umm ed-Dahak was not of the kind who doubt. For her, romantic fiction was more worth than fact. She accepted this, as she accepted every tale, artistically, and even added likely details unperceived of Barakah.
The servants came to know the weakness of their mistress and addressed her as “Emîrah” with all kinds of ceremony. The disease was catching; they themselves became infected. With the blacks illusion took the form of demoniacal possession. Each one began to brag of “him who dwells in me,” his power and jurisdiction over other demons. Barakah overheard them talking of their inmates, discussing pedigrees and finding out relationships which had existence only in the world of ginn. She once complained of their insanity to Fitnah Khânum, and asked what could be done to put a stop to it.
“I know one cure for devils as for every other illness of unmarried girls, and that is matrimony,” was the answer. “Among us here it is a sovereign remedy; among the Franks it seems less efficacious.”
“Among the Franks such foolish fancies are unknown,” laughed Barakah, when Fitnah Khânum sniffed, but said no more.
“The poor one is herself possessed,” she told Murjânah afterwards. “The servants say a princess of the ginn inhabits her; and she complains because they also harbour inmates. She ought to see a proper exorcist.”
The ladies all agreed to pity her. But Barakah, unconscious of their criticism, pursued her path of dreams with Umm ed-Dahak.
“May fire consume the infidels who thus dethroned thee, who robbed thee of thy land and honours!” cried the latter. “O day of milk, when thou didst fly for succour to the Muslimîn! They will avenge thy wrongs, in sh´Allah, in the time to come. Thy son shall win his birthright back with fire and sword.... Ma sh´Allah! Do I not behold his state? I see him on a throne, with courtiers prone before him—Muhammad Yûsuf Pasha, styled ‘the Great’—nay, what say I?—the Emîr, the King Muhammad in virtue of his mother’s dignity!” cried Umm ed-Dahak with dilated eyes. “By Allah, the most splendid scene I ever witnessed! He is Grand Vizier!”