The girls shrugged shoulders at the sinful folly of their owners, now too far gone in dissipation to endure reproaches.
“It is a malady, a madness,” said Bedr-ul-Budûr, with resignation. “It is the air of infidelity in this accursed city. We did wrong to travel unprovided with the antidote, which must be known to sages and obtainable. It is bad enough for us, but what of Barakah—a chief wife, a great lady? How can she endure it?”
Barakah did at last think fit to make a protest. One night and early morning she sat up for Yûsuf, and her reproaches met with a success which startled her. He wept aloud and flung himself upon the floor. His face was ghastly. When questioned, he confessed that he had sinned most foully, having that night consumed so much abomination that on his way home he had been struck down by God with awful sickness and had nearly died. He swore that none but devils lived in Paris, and implored her to transport him back to Egypt.
A picture seen the previous morning in a shop upon the boulevard had roused in Barakah the wish to visit Switzerland. She longed to walk by forest streams, beneath great mountains, in solitude, with keen, cool breezes to restore her spirits.
“Paris is not the whole of Europe,” she informed him gently. “There are scenes of famous beauty which we ought to visit. Take me to Switzerland!”
“At once!” he cried. “This very day now dawning! By Allah, I would go to Gebel Câf with thee alone to get away from Paris.”
She bade him tell his friends to treat their women better, which he swore to do; and directly after breakfast took him out, while his resolve was eager, to obtain money from the bank where he had credit, and buy tickets to Geneva, the first name occurring to her. She was glad that she had taken this precaution when, later in the day, she saw his purpose weaken. The tickets actually bought alone sustained it, for he had the Oriental’s shrewd regard for money’s worth. That night they spent in the train, both cherishing sensations of deliverance, though those of Barakah were chequered by the vision of three weeping girls, who at the moment of departure had embraced her knees and tried to hold her.
Their Alpine tour, however, was of short duration. Yûsuf was contented in Geneva, giving praise to Allah for the vast supply of drinking water. But when, at her suggestion, they moved on to Chamounix, his feeling changed. His face went green as on that night in Paris. His nostrils and his eyes distended to their utmost, reminding the observer of a frightened horse. The sight of the great mountains closing in and hanging over him oppressed his soul with terror which was not diminished by the occurrence in the hour of their arrival of a dreadful thunderstorm. When he saw the numbers of the visitors he gasped and questioned: “Come these here for pleasure? Is it possible? A place so frightful, so appalling, like Gehennum! If one came with a large company, with music and loud songs that never ceased, and kept his eyes shut all the time, it might be bearable; supposing one were forced to do it, for some crime ... For pleasure, sayest thou? What pleasure can they find?”
“They walk and climb the mountains. They love Nature. And the air is excellent.”