“Salvation be upon thee, O Ghandûr. What letter, now, is this of which thou speakest? Give!”
Reassured by the kind tone, Ghandûr arose, and smiling with a flash of perfect teeth, produced a letter from his bosom, touched his forehead with it, then reverently laid it in the Pasha’s outstretched hand. It ran:
“My garden of delight is in thy custody. The palpitations of my heart inform me danger shadows it. Alas! the grievous power of jealousy, which can make of a gazelle a tigress, and turn a mother’s love into a sword. This is the third time I have written to thee, yet no answer. Say that thou hast taken measures to preserve my lovely blossom from envious trampling and from poisoned water....”
The Pasha crumpled up the letter and stood wrapped in thought. Coming so close upon his promise to the English girl that all the women in the house would love and cherish her, the warning had a flavour of fatality. He recalled the lady Fitnah’s frowardness. She had been punished. Who could say that she had changed her mind? And, with the Consul’s evil eye upon the house, the shame of any outbreak would be doubled.
“Run to my son!” he told Ghandûr. “Assure him that a guard is kept, none safer, under Allah. Bid his soul have rest.”
Having watched the youth depart, he called the eunuchs and ordered them to guard the English lady as their life. Then he proceeded to the kitchens and there gave command that every dish and drink prepared for the table of the governess should come first to him that he might taste and judge its quality. And he took good care to let the women know of this precaution.
CHAPTER VI
The women’s quarters were a rambling place, with three small courtyards all on different levels, tunnels, staircases inside and out, and passages which ran in all directions. Besides the ladies Fitnah and Murjânah and their households, a widowed sister of the Pasha, and a former slave who had enjoyed his favour, kept separate state, with children and attendants. Freed slaves and poor relations, recognized go-betweens and sycophants came in and out, and slept there when they chose—a privilege extending to their offspring. Old women with a secret, knowing look edged through the corridors; untidy children sprawled upon the stairs; outside the door of each of the great ladies stood rows of coloured slippers, signifying humble callers. The place seemed always populous and full of noise. In a sense, good order reigned there; but it was the order of a township rather than a private residence, including all degrees of cleanliness, of wealth and squalor. The corps of eunuchs, ten in all, were the police.