“My oath bindeth me to obey her.”
“Then thou art truly the Amîn. Peace be unto thee, and upon thy descendants and companions,” she said. “Hush! make no noise. Let us seek her.”
Crossing the dark courtyard, she unlocked a small door, and I followed her in. The mingled perfume of musk, geranium, and attar of rose was almost overpowering, and my feet fell with noiseless tread upon a thick, soft carpet. A great hanging lamp of filigree brass shed a welcome ray, and as we ascended the broad stair, I thought I heard whisperings and the rustle of silken garments. Upstairs, a big, handsomely-dressed negro stood apparently awaiting us, for, with a sharp, inquiring glance and the exchange of some whispered words in Kabyle dialect, which I could not distinctly catch, he conducted me along a well-carpeted passage to the end, where closed plush curtains barred our passage.
As I advanced, he suddenly drew them aside, and in a low deep voice announced me in Arabic, inviting me to enter.
Stepping forward, I gazed around in curiosity and amazement.
I was in the harem!