His Excellency's English Governess

by Sydney C. Grier

“I can’t see it as you do,” said Charlie, conscious that this was not what he meant at all; “and I have no wish to try, either. You are wrought up and overstrained just now. I see that you are taking your life in your hand, and going into fearful danger quite needlessly.”

“But it’s not needlessly,” said Cecil; “it’s my duty. Why, suppose that cholera, or the plague, broke out here, would you shut yourself up and refuse to go among the people? I know you wouldn’t. You would work night and day, and never think of the danger.”

“That’s different,” said Charlie. “It would be my business to do it. A fellow would be a cad not to. But I wouldn’t let you do it, as you know. It’s a very different thing going into danger oneself, and seeing you go.”

“But you will have to submit to it, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh’s voice. “Cecil, my dear, I want you.” And Charlie’s chance of breaking down Cecil’s resolution was gone.

In his desperation, when Cecil was about to return to the Palace, he applied to Sir Dugald, and was politely snubbed for his pains. Certainly, Sir Dugald admitted, he was bound to afford protection to all British subjects, but he could not force any of them to avail themselves of it, and he pointed out the painful absurdity of the situation which would be caused by any attempt to detain Cecil at the Residency against her will. Such an argument had little effect upon Charlie, but Sir Dugald’s ruling characteristic was the fear of being made to look absurd, and he really felt that this consideration settled the matter. Charlie poured out his woes, as usual, to Lady Haigh, who attempted to console him by the reflection that the Um-ul-Pasha was not likely to make another effort at poisoning just yet, since her intended victims would be on their guard, to which he replied that she would probably be counting on this very confidence as to her intentions, and thus be emboldened to renew her attack.

In the little courtyard which formed Cecil’s world during six days out of every seven, public opinion agreed with Lady Haigh rather than with Charlie. It was the general feeling that although no public reference had been made to the Um-ul-Pasha’s share in the conspiracy, yet the danger of detection had approached sufficiently near to give her a very good fright, and that she would make no further attempt on her grandson’s life for the present. The Pasha’s prevailing fear was lest more violent means might now be employed, and some band of brigands subsidised to effect the desired object. His Excellency was between two fires. On one side were the Hajar Arabs, the tribesmen of Azim Bey’s dead mother, who had espoused the boy’s cause with characteristic and troublesome ardour, and threatened to murder the Pasha if he allowed any harm to come to him; and on the other the rest of the powerful Arab tribes of the neighbourhood, who had no special interest in Hussein Bey, but adopted his cause on account of its not being that of the Hajar. With these were the majority of the Baghdadis, some because of a natural instinct for opposing the powers that be, others because they sincerely attributed to Azim Bey and the Englishwoman the misfortunes of the time.

On account of this danger from brigands and from the disaffected Arabs, the Pasha forbade his son ever to go beyond the city walls, except in company with himself and his large escort. This prohibition fell hardly upon Azim Bey, who found his daily rides much curtailed and his weekly hunting-parties almost entirely stopped; but Cecil held sole command in their own courtyard, and would not permit any evasion of his Excellency’s orders. Her pupil felt it very dull, and at last, when he grew thoroughly tired of rambles confined to the garden, began to ask again about the Yehudis and their work. Hearing that the yearly prize-giving at the schools was again approaching, he became much interested; and when Cecil hinted that he might possibly be invited to preside at the ceremony, his excitement rose to fever heat. An announcement that the children had been taught to sing an Arabic version of “God save the Queen,” so arranged as to refer to the Sultan instead of to her most gracious Majesty, and an elaborate letter in Turkish from Dr Yehudi, adorned with many flourishes, both literary and caligraphical, and requesting the honour of his presence, decided him to go, were it only with the view of encouraging loyalty in the rising generation. Even in this exalted state of mind, however, he exacted a solemn promise from both Cecil and Dr Yehudi that Dr Egerton should not be invited. This once settled, he bent himself to the task of obtaining his father’s permission to go—a formality which the deluded Cecil had imagined to have been complied with long before.

After all, the Pasha was not very difficult to coax into consent, for he was specially anxious to stand well with England just then, and he had a vague idea that there were a good many people there who took an utterly incomprehensible interest in such an unimportant and far-off object as the Jewish Mission-school at Baghdad. But although he was willing that England should know of his tolerant behaviour, he was particularly anxious that the news of it should not spread in Baghdad, lest the mob should seek revenge at once against the Christians and against Azim Bey by burning down the Mission-house, in which case his Excellency would have to make good the damage. For this reason, Azim Bey was informed, to his great chagrin, that he must go quite privately to the prize-giving, without any pomp and circumstance whatever, for fear of exciting the populace. Not a word was to be breathed of the matter to any one but the parties immediately concerned; there was to be no military escort, no long train of servants, only the two nurses and the donkey-boys to attend upon Cecil and himself, and Masûd to give an air of respectability to the outing. All were to wear their plainest clothes, even the donkeys were not to be decked with their State trappings, and the route was strictly to be limited to unfrequented streets. Was there ever such a poor and mean caricature of the gorgeous pageant Azim Bey had proposed to himself? Still, it was a great thing to get out of the Palace for a day, and the anticipated delights of playing Lord Paramount at the prize-giving consoled the boy under his disappointment.

The ride from the Palace to the Mission-house was undertaken in the quietest part of the day, when there were few people in the streets, and it passed without any hostile manifestation or even any recognition of the riders. This fact delighted Cecil, but her pupil seemed to be a little piqued. He had been looking forward to an exciting and perilous transit, and this was rather tame in comparison; but his grievance was forgotten when the Mission-house courtyard was safely reached, and he found that the buildings were decorated with flags, and that all the school-children were drawn up in line to receive him. When once he had dismounted, he drew himself up with an exact imitation of his father’s rather pompous stride on State occasions, greeted Dr and Mrs Yehudi and Mr and Mrs Schad with great urbanity, and passed on to the house with them between the lines of children, bowing graciously right and left in his progress, as Cecil had told him was the custom of royalty in England. At the examination which followed he sat gravely in his chair and made sage remarks on what he heard, while the musical drill delighted him excessively. He distributed the prizes without the least shyness or awkwardness, and consoled the less fortunate children with sweets, a form of comfort which appealed very strongly to himself. He was an interested spectator of the games which followed, and of the feast to which the children at length sat down, and only consented to tear himself away at Cecil’s repeated entreaties, assuring his hosts that he had enjoyed himself extremely, and would have liked to remain until night.

Cecil was not so happy, for during the latter part of the time she had been on thorns lest anything should happen to prevent their getting safely back through the city. With all her haste it was the cool of the day when they emerged from the gate of the Mission-house, a time at which the streets were at their fullest. She dared not order her cavalcade to quicken their pace, for fear of attracting attention, but her precaution was in vain, for her pupil was recognised as they passed through a crowd collected at the street corner, and they were soon followed by a number of ill-conditioned men and boys making uncomplimentary remarks in Arabic. Azim Bey waxed exceedingly wroth at this, and wanted to order Masûd and the donkey-boys to charge the crowd, but Cecil succeeded in restraining him. She could not, however, keep him from exchanging defiances with his ragged escort, a proceeding which improved the temper of neither.