“IT WAS ONLY THE WORK OF A FEW MINUTES TO EXCHANGE CASH FOR A MYSTERIOUS POWDER.”
During the serving of the unusually large meal, which occupied the attention of the women for a time, Lulu slipped out backwards under the rear curtain of the tent and disappeared. Few missed her for a time, for all were busy, but when the call was given, “Bring out the bride and let her husband claim her,” great was the astonishment, for no bride was on hand. One abused the other, and the angry bridegroom accused his host of treachery and would have shot him but for the interference of others, who reminded him again that Allah was with the patient ones.
All denied that the girl was dead, for had they not seen her alive only a short time before? She would return soon, they said, and put an end to the confusion and mystery.
Meanwhile scouts were sent out around the camp, only to return later without tidings of the fugitive. All that night watch was kept, but morning dawned without the mystery being solved, and as the day wore on speculations were indulged in as to whom the purchase price of Lulu belonged, for, although she had now disappeared, she on her part had not done anything within the seven days of the feast to cause her intended master to claim the price paid for her. The sun set again without any light being shed on the disappearance or whereabouts of the girl-bride, and Abd-el-Thullam was furious at being balked of his prey, swearing by every oath available that he would lose neither wife nor purchase price, even if the regaining of one or the other made lifelong enmity between the two tribes.
“AN OLD TOMB HEWN IN THE SIDE OF THE CISTERN.”
[From a Photograph.]
We must now leave the puzzled company in the guest-tent and see what had become of Lulu. After slipping under the tent-cloth, she commenced to run as fast as her bare feet would permit her. In her excitement and joy at being free she cared little in which direction she fled, and although the night was unusually dark, by reason of heavy storm-clouds, she sped on over hill and valley until thoroughly tired and exhausted. As she rested her weary little frame on the soft herbage of the wilderness the solitude and stillness made her nervous and afraid. Her trepidation was not lessened by a sudden movement near her—made, probably, by a jackal more alarmed than herself.
The fright made her rise quickly and again take to flight, but after running a few hundred yards misfortune overtook her, for, without warning, she tripped and fell headlong into an old unused cistern quite twenty-five feet deep. The fall made her unconscious, and as the pit was far from the camp she was safe for that night, while a tangle of creepers and thorns over the mouth of the cavity made her fairly secure by day.
Here, bruised and unconscious, the poor little bride-to-be lay until daybreak, when, with the rising sun, her senses returned to her. Having considered her surroundings, she decided to secure herself further by creeping into an old tomb hewn in the side of the cistern, where at least she could die in peace rather than be the slave of one utterly distasteful to her. So, with one last fond thought for her absent lover, she swallowed the gipsy’s potion and crawled into the small aperture. Here she soon fell into a stupor, caused partly by weariness, but mainly by the powder bought from the old drug-vender.