Hassan; or, The Child of the Pyramid: An Egyptian Tale

by Sir Charles Augustus Murray

“Mashallah! you shall see with your own eyes, lady; my words are weak to describe what you will see.”

“It is well,” said the Khanum. “Go; I shall expect him at the hour.”

“What strange folly have I now committed,” said Hassan to himself, “in offering to assist this unknown person, and risking my neck within the walls of a harem? However, I have promised, and they shall not say that I held back from fear.” So saying, he secured his dagger within his sash under his inner jacket, buckled on his old sword, leaving the splendid jewel-hilted present of Delì Pasha in his room, and sallied forth to the place of appointment enveloped in a dark-coloured aba or cloak. He found the old woman under the tree, and followed her through several streets without exchanging a word, until they reached the postern door before mentioned, at which she tapped three times: it was opened immediately by a Berber bowàb, or porter, beside whom stood two Nubian eunuchs of large stature.

“Follow your conductor,” whispered the crone to Hassan; “my task is done.” And so saying, she withdrew from the door, which was closed and bolted.

Fear was a sensation as foreign to the heart of Hassan as to that of any man who ever walked on earth, but the closing of the bolts behind him, and the grim smile which he observed on the faces of the swarthy eunuchs, made him for a moment repent of having embarked in this mysterious enterprise; but recovering himself immediately, and placing a hand on the hilt of his dagger, he followed his guides in silence. They led him through several winding passages, and at last to a curtained door which opened on the larger room before described as the saloon of the palace, and, making him a sign to enter, retired. Four large candles in silver stands of unusual height lighted up the farther part of the saloon, by the side of which stood several trays loaded with the finest fruits and rarest sweetmeats, while on another were ranged rows of sherbet-bottles of various hues, and others that might contain the forbidden juices of the grape: all these things Hassan noted with a rapid glance, and also that for the present he was the sole occupant of the splendid apartment.

“If the lady be mistress of all this wealth and luxury,” said Hassan half aloud, “how strange that she should need aid or service from one so humble as myself.” He then walked forward over the soft and silent carpets towards the lights, and with the curiosity of youth began to examine the fruits, which surpassed in beauty all that he had seen, and wondered how such could be collected and procured in the end of November.

Hassan was not aware that while the lofty saloon in which he stood reached to the roof of the palace, there were adjoining rooms of half the height, and that through the beautifully painted lattice-work which ornamented the sides of the saloon there was a woman sitting in one of those dark rooms above, who, invisible herself, could see every feature of his countenance as he stood in the full glare of the wax-lights.

“Wallàhi!” as a dark fire flashed from her eyes, “for once that old daughter of Shèitan has not lied. None so handsome have I seen in this land; who, whence can he be? Bakkalum” (we shall see). So saying she left the room, ordering the eunuch who stood without to give her the key. The corresponding rooms, she knew, were closed and the keys she held. This strange woman trusted none of her women slaves—they were all sent to another part of the house; the only confidants of her wickedness being four powerful black eunuchs and the porter of the postern door.

Meanwhile Hassan began to weary of his splendid solitude, and finding his head almost giddy from the aromatic odours which rose from a censer burning in the room, he threw open the large latticed casement, which, from the sound of the rushing waters, he judged to look out upon the Nile. A young moon was rising, and not a boat was visible: the thought of the grim eunuch below flashed on his recollection, and as he gazed from the window on the turbid stream boiling below at a distance of thirty feet, a smile passed over his face. Retiring from the casement, he found himself suddenly standing before one whom he felt to be the lady of the palace.

Her appearance has been described, and she had not neglected to embellish it by all the resources of art. Her dress was tasteful rather than splendid, and only one or two jewels of price betokened the rank and wealth of the wearer; her hands were small and graceful, to which point a single brilliant of the purest water attracted the eye; and the natural fire of her dark eyes was now heightened as much by the passion which burnt within them as by the kohl,[^[86]] which had shed a darker hue on their lids and on the arching brows above.