The Advanced-Guard

by Sydney C. Grier

Presently the service came to an end, and the reader disappeared from view. From the movements of the audience, it seemed that they were grouping themselves round him at one end of the building; and, at the Mirza’s suggestion, Ferrers slipped and shuffled round the dome until he reached a point opposite to his former position. Here he could again obtain a glimpse of the white and scarlet figure, seated now in a niche in the end wall, with the congregation sitting before him like disciples in the presence of a teacher. What followed was more or less of a mystery to Ferrers, for it was difficult to see clearly, and almost impossible to hear. All spoke in low voices, and the mingled sounds rose confusedly to the opening in the dome. But it seemed evident that reports of some kind were given in by certain of the audience, whose attire showed them to belong to various tribes, or even to different regions of Central Asia; that orders were issued, and small strips torn from the teacher’s white robe blessed and distributed among those present. All this was highly interesting; but from what followed, Ferrers, whose religious sense was by no means keen, drew back revolted. To see his Commandant breathing on the eager hearers who crowded round him as he rose, or laying his hands on their heads, according as they entreated a blessing or the favour of his holy breath, was bad enough. But there were some who suffered from bodily ailments, and the teacher must needs lay his hand upon the spot affected and mutter a prayer; and for those who had sick friends at home he must write charms on scraps of paper and mutter incantations over them. Then, just as he was about to leave the place, a very old man pushed forward and grasped his robe.

“O my lord!” he cried, and his high quavering voice reached Ferrers clearly, “strengthen the faith of thy servant. Months ago I disobeyed thy commands, and sought a sign from thee in the daytime and in the presence of the ignorant and the infidel. Thou didst pour scorn upon me, such as I well deserved, but pardon me now. All those that are here have seen thy power, save only thy servant. Only a little sign, O my lord—to behold fire breathed from thy lips, or a light shining round thee——”

The teacher held up his hand for silence, and answered in the same low voice as before. Though Ferrers strained his ears, he could not hear what was said, but the Mirza was at his side.

“The Sheikh says that he will show the faithful a new miracle,” he whispered. “Many of them have seen him breathe fire, but now a sweet odour, as of roses, shall suddenly encompass him, that they may know the worth of his prayers.”

“The odour of sanctity!” chuckled Ferrers, in mingled amusement and disgust; and presently, rather to his astonishment, a faint but distinct perfume of attar of roses made itself felt among the oil-fumes which rose through the opening. To the crowd below the scent must have been much more evident, and their expressions of joy and wonder broke out loudly. The old man who had asked for a miracle flung himself down in transports of delight, and kissed the ground before the Sheikh’s feet, and there were urgent entreaties to be led forth at once against the enemy, which were promptly refused. When the teacher had disappeared from view, the Mirza touched Ferrers’ arm, and they scrambled down the dome and crept to the side of the roof, where, sheltered by the minaret, they looked over the edge. The red and white of the Sheikh’s dress were clearly discernible, but it was not easy to see what was going on among his supporters. As Ferrers’ eyes became accustomed to the darkness, however, he perceived that a shallow grave had been dug, and that a coffin was ready to be committed to it. He looked round at the Mirza with horror. Were these men about to dispose of the body of some member of their mysterious association who had been false to his vows, and suffered for it? But the Mirza’s whisper was reassuring—

“It is the body of a man of Gamara, who died here yesterday. The Sheikh will utter spells which will preserve it from decay, that when the friends are about to return home they may take up the body and bury it in the burial-place of his fathers in his own land.”

The Sheikh’s incantations were lengthy, and before they were over the Mirza and Ferrers descended the staircase again. As they passed the loophole at its foot, the Mirza directed Ferrers’ attention to a brazier filled with glowing charcoal which stood in a recess in the opposite wall.

“The Sheikh had smeared the wooden walls of the niche in which he sat with attar of roses before the service began, and placed this brazier here,” he said. “He knew that as the heat penetrated through the wall, the perfume would make itself felt.”

“Wily beggar! he leaves nothing to chance,” said Ferrers, and stopped suddenly with sick disgust. The successful charlatan of whom he spoke was a British officer, a man whose hand he had grasped in friendship.

They groped along the passage, and slipped out noiselessly by the door into the crowd of disciples. When the funeral was over the Sheikh bade farewell to his followers, and mounted a black horse which had been brought forward in readiness. Ferrers restrained himself with difficulty from whistling to the horse.