The pacha, uneasy at the turn which events were taking, had caused old Muly Ishmael, the grand chief of the Delibash and of the Syrian troops, to be warned. Feared by the pachas, who would never have dared to make a hair of his head fall, he was adored by the Arabs, with whom he had taken refuge on several occasions, at the time when his life was threatened. Scarcely arrived at Damascus, Muly Ishmael demanded a visit from Lady Hester, "for I shall be very jealous of my young chief if he does not come," said he. It was as much an order as a request. Bravely she went there, although somewhat troubled by the terrible rumours which were in circulation in regard to him. She was obliged to cross courts swarming with horses and horsemen, to stride over or avoid hundreds of soldiers sprawling on the ground, to argue and parley with fifty officers, before reaching the old chief, who was talking with the bey, her friend. Muly Ishmael was charming, offering her his house at Hama and an escort of Delibash. Lady Hester, very proud of this conquest, called him the Sir David Dundas of Syria. She remained an hour and was delighted by his courtesy, marked by a cordiality, a grace of manner, rather rare amongst the Turks.
Then the Wahabis vanished in smoke. And, one fine morning, Mahannah-el-Fadel, chief of the tribe of the Anezes, arrived at Damascus to demand back 4000 horses and flocks of sheep which the pacha had requisitioned from him. He asserted that the name of the Meleki (queen) was in the mouth of all the Bedouins of the desert.
During this time, Bruce, who was returning from Aleppo with Mr. Barker, English consul at that town, learned of these fine projects, and, terrified, hurried on, without stopping, to prevent—if there were still time—so great a folly. And the messengers ran along the roads carrying letters full of adjurations and entreaties.
Lady Hester lost her patience at meeting with resistance. "No caravan travels along the route by which I wish to go," declared she, incensed. "And if there were one, nothing would be able to persuade me to join it. They get into a ridiculous fright and arrive with a machine with bars, a tartavane, which Mr. Barker declares indispensable. All the consuls in the universe will not force me to go within it. What an absurd idea! In the event of attack, the drivers take themselves off, and one is left to the mercy of two obstinate mules. The speedy horse to whom the Arabs entrust themselves, that is something like; that is better; that is what I require! ..."
The idea of putting Lady Hester in a cage was certainly not ordinary. Happily, Bruce fell ill, and the doctor was despatched to attend and calm him. The road skirted the desert, and, costumed as a Bedouin, with lance on shoulder, Meryon, by way of Yebroud, Kara, Hasia and Homs, reached Hama, where Bruce, already restored to health, soon rejoined him. He brought back with him a young Frenchman of Aleppo, called Beaudin, who spoke Arabic almost as well as a native of the country.
Leaving them to continue their journey, the doctor again took the road from Damascus to Yebroud. Then he made a detour to reach the village of Nebk, where a man was living whose acquaintance Lady Hester keenly desired to make. His name was Lascaris, and his history singular.
Of the Piedmontese family of the Lascaris, of Ventimiglia, he regarded himself as descendant of the Emperor of Trebizond. Without tracing his ancestry back so far, he had an uncle Grand Master of the Knights of Malta, and was himself a chevalier.
Bonaparte having seized the island on his way, Lascaris followed. Receiver of taxes—excellent place in the East—he met at Cairo a young Georgian slave of great beauty. Abducted at the age of fifteen, she had fallen into the harem of Murad Bey. Lascaris married her, for he was a fervent apostle of universal brotherhood—it is probable that, if she had been ugly, he would not have pushed so far and with so much enthusiasm the application of his principles! On the evacuation of Egypt, he brought his wife to Paris; but her manners and her education were too much out of tune in the brilliant society of that time. After some successes with shawls, some exhibitions of Turkish robes, the Parisian women turned their backs upon her to run to other spectacles more novel. Madame Lascaris begged her husband to return to the East. He did not require pressing, for he him self was deceived in his legitimate ambitions. He solicited through his aunt, Josephine's mistress of the robes, an exalted post. He was offered a place as sub-prefect! Deeply wounded, they returned to Constantinople. There an idea of genius occurred to Lascaris; he proposed to go to Georgia to establish there a new system of agriculture. An Armenian, who was on the look out for victims with money, offered himself as treasurer. The trio crossed the Black Sea, landed in the Crimea and were arrested for espionage. The Armenian made off, naturally, with the cash-box, while Lascaris and his wife were sent to St. Petersburg. Their innocence at last recognised, they found themselves with a very low purse. Then, having gradually lost all that remained—for the chevalier had many odd ideas difficult to realise—he endeavoured to furnish the peasants of the environs of Lattakia with European ploughs, the employment of which would double their harvest. The peasants grew angry, and their unappreciated benefactor was obliged to take himself off promptly. He became professor of music at Aleppo.
On November 3, 1812, the doctor arrived at Nebk and cast about for Lascaris's house. Perceiving a little girl of twelve who was sauntering around him, he questioned her. She was the servant of those whom he was looking for, and was called Katinko, or Catherine. But her astonishing resemblance to Lascaris induced the doctor to think that she was rather his daughter. The chevalier appeared on his doorstep, dirty and wretched-looking, wearing an abaye of striped wool, wound round his body after the manner of the garments of Robin Hood, blue breeches in rather a melancholy condition, stockings and the red shoes worn by the peasants. His beard was long and thick. His wife retained little trace of beauty, which had disappeared, alas! not to return; the adorable Georgian girl had changed into the stout matron with masculine ways. They had arrived from Aleppo with bales of red cotton, which they hoped to exchange for money with the villagers of the neighbourhood. The doctor greatly enjoyed the conversation of Lascaris, whom his numerous travels had made a very well-informed and cultured man. He noted in him, however, a certain self-conceit, a certain sentiment of superiority which had no doubt been the sole cause of his disappointments. He appeared very embittered against Napoleon.
Two days afterwards, an urgent message recalled the doctor to Damascus, where Barker had just fallen seriously ill.