Tales of Secret Egypt

  Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Christoph W. Kluge, RodCrawford, Dave Morgan and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  Obvious mis-spellings and printing errors have been corrected; a list is included at the end of this e-book.

  Missing periods at paragraph-end have silently been supplied. Inconsistencies in hyphenation and accentuation have been retained.

  The romanization of Arabic is the author's.

  "She stood there ... her slim body swaying in a perfect rapture of admiration for her own beauty."]

  TALES OF SECRET EGYPT

  BY SAX ROHMER

  McKINLAY, STONE & MACKENZIE NEW YORK

  _Printed in the United States of America_

  _Second Printing November, 1920_

  Published February, 1919

  CONTENTS

  PART I

  TALES OF ABU TABAH

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I. THE YASHMAK OF PEARLS 1 II. THE DEATH-RING OF SNEFERU 31 III. THE LADY OF THE LATTICE 58 IV. OMAR OF ISPAHAN 87 V. BREATH OF ALLAH 114 VI. THE WHISPERING MUMMY 144

  PART II

  OTHER TALES

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I. LORD OF THE JACKALS 169 II. LURE OF SOULS 194 III. THE SECRET OF ISMAIL 216 IV. HARUN PASHA 239 V. IN THE VALLEY OF THE SORCERESS 267 VI. POMEGRANATE FLOWER 290

  TALES OF SECRET EGYPT

  PART I

  TALES OF ABU TABAH

  I

  THE YASHMAK OF PEARLS

  The _duhr_, or noonday call to prayer, had just sounded from theminarets of the Mosques of Kalaun and En-Nasir, and I was idly notingthe negligible effect of the _adan_ upon the occupants of theneighboring shops--coppersmiths for the most part--when suddenly myerrant attention became arrested.

  A mendicant of unwholesome aspect crouched in the shadow of the narrowgateway at the entrance to the Suk es-Saigh, or gold and silverbazaar, having his one serviceable eye fixed in a malevolent stareupon something or someone immediately behind me.

  It is part and parcel of my difficult profession to subdue allimpulses and to think before acting. I sipped my coffee and selecteda fresh cigarette from the silver box upon the rug beside me. In thisinterval I had decided that the one-eyed mendicant cherished in hisbosom an implacable and murderous hatred for my genial friend, AliMohammed, the dealer in antiques; that he was unaware of my havingdivined his bloody secret; and that if I would profit by my accidentaldiscovery, I must continue to feign complete ignorance of it.

  Turning casually to Ali Mohammed, I was startled to observe theexpression upon his usually immobile face: he was positively gray,and I thought I detected a faint rattling sound, apparently producedby his teeth; his eyes were set as if by hypnosis upon the uncleanlyfigure huddled in the shadow of the low gate.

  "You are unwell, my friend," I said.

  Ali Mohammed shook his head feebly, removed his eyes by a palpableeffort from the watcher in the gateway, but almost instantly revertedagain to that fixed and terrified scrutiny.

  "Not at all, Kernaby Pasha," he chattered; "not in the least."

  He passed a hand rapidly over a brow wet with perspiration, andmoistened his lips, which were correspondingly dry. I determined upona diplomatic _tour de force_; I looked him squarely in the face.

  "For some reason," I said distinctly, "you are in deadly fear of thewall-eyed mendicant who is sitting by the gate of the Suk es-Saigh,O Ali Mohammed, my friend."

  I turned with assumed carelessness. The beggar of murderous appearancehad vanished, and Ali Mohammed was slowly recovering his composure.I knew that I must act quickly, or he would deny with the urbanemendacity of the Egyptian all knowledge of the one-eyed one;therefore--

  "Acquaint me with the reason of your apprehensions," I said, at thesame time offering him one of his own cigarettes; "it may be that Ican assist you."

  A moment he hesitated, glancing doubtfully in the direction of thegate and back to my face; then--

  "It is one of the people of Tir," he whispered, bending close to myear; "of the evil _ginn_ who are the creatures of Abu Tabah."

  I was puzzled and expressed my doubt in words.

  "Alas," replied Ali Mohammed, "the Imam Abu Tabah is neither a man noran official; he is a magician."

  "Indeed! then you speak of one bearing the curious name of Abu Tabah,who is at once the holder of a holy office and also one who hasdealings with the _ginn_ and the _Efreets_. This is strange, AliMohammed, my friend."

  "It is strange and terrible," he whispered, "and I fear that my pathis beset with pitfalls and slopeth down to desolation." He pronouncedthe _Takbir_, "_Allahu akbar!_" and uttered the words "_Hadeed! yamashum!_" (Iron! thou unlucky!), a potent invocation, as the _ginn's_dread of that metal is well known. "There are things of which one maynot speak," he declared; "and this is one of them."

  Sorely puzzled as I was by this most mysterious happening, yet,because of the pious words of my friend, I knew that the incident wasclosed so far as confidences were concerned; and I presently took mydeparture, my mind filled with all sorts of odd conjectures by which Isought to explain the matter. I was used to the superstitions of thatquarter where almost every gate and every second street has itsguardian _ginnee_, but who and what was Abu Tabah? An Imam,apparently, though to what mosque attached Ali Mohammed had notmentioned. And why did Ali Mohammed fear Abu Tabah?

  So my thoughts ran, more or less ungoverned, whilst I made my waythrough streets narrow and tortuous in the direction of the Rondpointdu Muski. I saw no more of the wall-eyed mendicant; but in a courthard by the Mosque of el-Ashraf I found myself in the midst of asquabbling crowd of natives surrounding someone whom I gathered, fromthe direction of their downward glances, to be prone upon the ground.Since the byways of the Suk el-Attarin are little frequented byEuropeans, at midday, I thrust my way into the heart of the throng,thinking that some stray patron of Messrs. Cook and Son (Egypt, Ltd.)might possibly have got into trouble or have been overcome by theheat.

  Who or what lay at the heart of that gathering I never learned. I wasstill some distance from the centre of the disturbance when anevil-smelling sack was whipped over my head and shoulders from behind,a hand clapped upon my mouth and jaws; and, lifted in muscular arms,I found myself being borne inarticulate down stone steps, as I gatheredfrom the sound, into some cool cellar-like place.

  II

  In my capacity as Egyptian representative of Messrs. Moses, Murphy &Co., of Birmingham, I have sometimes found myself in awkward corners;but in Cairo, whether the native or European quarter, I had hithertocounted myself as safe as in London and safer than in Paris. Theunexpectedness of the present outrage would have been sufficient totake my breath away without the agency of the filthy sack, which hadapparently contained garlic at some time and now contained my head.

  I was deposited upon a stone-paved floor and my wrists were neatlypinioned behind me by one of my captors, whilst another hung on to myankles. The sack was raised from my body but not from my face; andwhilst a hand was kept firmly pressed over the region of my mouth,nimble fingers turned my pockets inside out. I assumed at first that Ihad fallen into the clutches of some modern brethren of the famousForty, but when my purse, note-case, pocket-book, and other belongingswere returned to me, I realized that something more underlay thisattempt than the mere activity of a gang of footpads.

  At this conclusion I had just arrived when the stinking sack waspulled off entirely and I found myself sitting on the floor of a smalland very dar
k cellar. Beside me, holding the sack in his huge hands,stood a pock-marked negro of most repulsive appearance, and before me,his slim, ivory-colored hands crossed and resting upon the head of anebony cane, was a man, apparently an Egyptian, whose appearance hadsomething so strange about it that the angry words which I had beenprepared to utter died upon my tongue and I sat staring mutely intothe face of my captor; for I could not doubt that the outrage had beendictated by this man's will.

  He was, then, a young man, probably under thirty, with perfectlychiseled features and a slight black moustache. He wore a black_gibbeh_, and a white turban, and brown shoes upon his small feet. Hisface was that of an ascetic, nor had I ever seen more wonderful andliquid eyes; in them reposed a world of melancholy; yet his red lipswere parted in a smile tender as that of a mother. Inclining his headin a gesture of gentle dignity, this man--whom I hated atsight--addressed me in Arabic.

  "I am desolated," he said, "and there is no comfort in my heartbecause of that which has happened to you by my orders. If it ispossible for me to recompense you by any means within my power,command and you shall find a slave."

  He was poisonously suave. Beneath the placid exterior, beneath thesugar-lipped utterances, in the deeps of the gazelle-like eyes, washid a cold and remorseless spirit for which the man's silken demeanorwas but a cloak. I hated him more and more. But my trade--for I do notblush to own myself a tradesman--has taught me caution. My ankles werefree, it is true, but my hands were still tied behind me and over metowered the hideous bulk of the negro. This might be modern Cairo, andno doubt there were British troops quartered at the Citadel and atthe Kasr en-Nil; probably there was a native policeman, arepresentative of twentieth-century law and order, somewhere in themaze of streets surrounding me: but, in the first place, I was at aphysical disadvantage, in the second place I had reasons for notdesiring unduly to intrude my affairs upon official notice, and in thethird place some hazy idea of what might be behind all this businesshad begun to creep into my mind.

  "Have I the pleasure," I said, and electing to speak, not in Arabicbut in English, "of addressing the _Imam Abu Tabah_?"

  I could have sworn that despite his amazing self-control the manstarted slightly; but the lapse, if lapse it were, was but momentary.He repeated the dignified obeisance of the head--and answered me inEnglish as pure as my own.

  "I am called Abu Tabah," he said; "and if I assure you that mydiscourteous treatment was dictated by a mistaken idea of duty, and ifI offer you this explanation as the only apology possible, will youpermit me to untie your hands and call an _arabiyeh_ to drive you toyour hotel?"

  "No apology is necessary," I assured him. "Had I returned direct toShepheard's I should have arrived too early for luncheon; and the odorof garlic, which informed the sack that your zeal for duty caused tobe clapped upon my head, is one for which I have a certain penchant ifit does not amount to a passion."

  Abu Tabah smiled, inclined his head again, and slightly raising theebony cane indicated my pinioned wrists, at the same time glancing atthe negro. In a trice I was unbound and once more upon my feet. Ilooked at the dilapidated door which gave access to the cellar, and Imade a rapid mental calculation of the approximate weight in pounds ofthe large negro; then I looked hard at Abu Tabah--who smilingly met myglance.

  "Any one of my servants," he said urbanely, "who wait in the adjoiningroom, will order you an _arabiyeh_."

  III

  When the card of Ali Mohammed was brought to me that evening, mythoughts instantly flew to the wall-eyed mendicant of the Suken-Nahhasin, and to Abu Tabah, the sugar-lipped. I left the pleasantcompany of the two charming American ladies with whom I had beenchatting on the terrace and joined Ali Mohammed in the lounge.

  Without undue preamble he poured his tale of woe into my sympatheticears. He had been lured away from his shop later that afternoon, and,in his absence, someone had ransacked the place from floor to roof.That night on his way to his abode, somewhere out Shubra direction Iunderstood, he had been attacked and searched, finally to reach hishouse and to find there a home in wild disorder.

  "I fear for my life," he whispered and glanced about the lounge inblackest apprehension; "yet where in all Cairo may I find anintermediary whom I can trust? Suppose," he pursued, and dropped hisvoice yet lower, "that a commission of ten per cent--say, one hundredpounds, English--were to be earned, should you care, Kernaby Pasha,to earn it?"

  I assured him that I should regard such a proposal with the utmostaffection.

  "It would be necessary," he continued, "for you to disguise yourselfas an aged woman and to visit the _harem_ of a certain wealthy Bey.I have a ring which must be shown to the _bowwab_ at the gate of the_harem_ gardens upon which you would knock three times slowly and thentwice rapidly. You would collect the thousand _gineh_ agreed upon andwould deliver to a certain lady a sandalwood box, the possession ofwhich endangers my life and has brought about me the hosts of AbuTabah the magician."

  So the head of the cat was out of the bag at last. But there was moreto come and it was not a proposition to plunge at, as I immediatelyperceived; and I parted from Ali Mohammed upon the prudentunderstanding that I should acquaint him with my decision on themorrow.

  The terrace of Shepheard's was deserted, when, having escorted myvisitor to the door, he made his way down into the Sharia Kamel Pasha.Two white-robed figures who looked like hotel servants, and a littlenondescript group of natives, stood at the foot of the steps. At theinstant that doubt entered my mind and too late to warn the worthyAli Mohammed, the group parted to give him passage; then ... aterrific scuffle was in progress and one of the wealthiest merchantsof the Muski was being badly hustled.

  I ran down the steps, the carriage-despatcher and some otherofficials, whom the disturbance had aroused from their secret lairs,appearing almost simultaneously. As I reached the street, out from thefeet of the wrestling throng, like a football from a scrum, rolled aneat _tarbush_.

  Automatically I stooped and picked it up. Its weight surprised me.Then, glancing inside the _tarbush_, I perceived that a little oblongbox, together with a quaint signet ring, were ingeniously attached tothe crown by means of silk threads tied around the knot of the tassel.I glanced rapidly about me. I, alone, had seen the cap roll out uponthe pavement.

  A hard jerk, and I had the box and the ring free in my hand. The tallcarriage-despatcher, his ferocious efforts now seconded by a nativepoliceman who freely employed his cane upon the thinly-clad persons ofthe group, had terminated the scuffle.

  Right and left active figures darted, pursued for some little distanceby the policeman and the two men from the hotel. There were nocaptures.

  A very dusty and bemused Ali Mohammed, his shaven skull robbing him ofmuch of the dignity which belonged to his _tarbush_, confronted me,ruefully dusting his garments.

  "Your _tarbush_, my friend," I said, restoring his property to himwith a bow.

  One piercing glance he cast into the interior, then--

  "O Allah!" he wailed--"O Allah! I am robbed! Yet----"

  A sort of martyred resignation, a beatific peace, crept over hisfeatures.

  "To war against Abu Tabah is the act of a fool," he declared. "To haveobtained the Bey's money would have been good, but to have obtainedpeace is better!"

  IV

  I awoke that night from a troubled sleep and from a dream whereinmagnetic fingers caressed my forehead hypnotically. For a moment Icould not believe that I was truly awake; the long ivory hand of mydreams was still moving close before me with a sort of slow fanningmovement--and other, nimble, fingers crept beneath my pillow!

  Of my distaste for impulse I have already spoken, and even now, withmy mind not wholly under control, I profited by those years ofself-imposed discipline. Without fully opening my eyes, cautiously,inch by inch, I moved my hand to that side of the bed nearer to thewall, where there reposed a leather holster containing my pistol.

  My fingers closed over the butt of the weapon; and in a flash Ibecame wide awake ... and had the rin
g of the barrel within an inch ofthe smiling face of Abu Tabah!

  I sat up.

  "Be good enough, my friend," I said, "to turn on the center lamp. Theswitch, as you have probably noted, is immediately to the left of thedoor."

  Abu Tabah, straightening his figure and withdrawing his hand frombeneath my pillow, inclined his picturesque head in grave salute andmoved stately in the direction indicated. The room was flooded withyellow light. Its disorder was appalling; apparently no item of mygear had escaped attention.

  "Pray take a seat," I said; "this one close beside me."

  Abu Tabah gravely accepted the invitation.

  "This is the second occasion," I continued, "upon which you haveunwarrantably submitted me to a peculiar form of outrage----"

  "Not unwarrantably," replied Abu Tabah, his speech suave and gentle;"but I fear I am too late!"

  His words came as a beam of enlightenment. At last I had the game inmy hands did I but play my cards with moderate cunning.

  "You must pursue your inquiries in the _harem_ of the Bey," I said.

  Abu Tabah shrugged his shoulders.

  "The house of Yussuf Bey has been watched," he replied; "therefore myagents have failed me and must be punished."

  "They are guiltless. It was humanly impossible to perceive my entranceto the house," I declared truthfully.

  Abu Tabah smiled into my face.

  "So it was _you_ who carried the sacred _burko_ of the SeyyidehNefiseh," he said; "and to-night Ali Mohammed brought you the rewardfor your perilous journey."

  "Your reasoning is sound," I replied, "and the accuracy of yourinformation remarkable."

  I had scored the first point in the game; for I had learned that thewonderful silken _yashmak_, pearl embroidered, which I had found inthe sandalwood box, was no less a curiosity than the face-veil of theSeyyideh Nefiseh and must therefore be of truly astounding antiquityand unique of its kind.

  "The woman Shahmarah," continued my midnight visitor, the eerie lightof fanaticism dawning in his eyes, "who was once a dancing girl, andwho will ruin Yussuf Bey as she ruined Ghuri Pasha before him, must befor ever accursed and meet with the fate of courtesans if she dare towear the _burko_ of Nefiseh."

  I had scored my second point; I had learned that the lady to whom AliMohammed would have had me deliver the _yashmak_ was named Shahmarahand was evidently the favorite of the notorious Yussuf Bey. Thecomplacent self-satisfaction of Abu Tabah amused me vastly, for heclearly entertained no doubts respecting his efficiency as a searcher.

  He was watching me now with his strange hypnotic eyes, which hadsoftened again, and his fixed stare caused me a certain uneasiness.For a captured thief, sitting covered by the pistol of his captor,he was ridiculously composed.

  "You have performed an immoral deed," he said sweetly, "and havepandered to the base desires of a woman of poor repute. I offer you anopportunity of performing a good deed--and of trebling your profit."

  This was as I would have it, and I nodded encouragingly.

  "Unfold to me the thing that is in your mind," I directed him.

  "I am a Moslem," he said; "and although Yussuf Bey is a dog of dogs,he is nevertheless a True Believer--and I may not force my way intohis _harem_."

  "He might return the veil if he knew that Shahmarah had it,"I suggested ingenuously.

  Abu Tabah shook his head.

  "There are difficulties," he replied, "and if the theft is not tobe proclaimed to the world, there is no time to be lost. This is myproposal: Return to the woman Shahmarah, and acquaint her with thefact that the sacred veil has been traced to her abode and her deathdecided upon by the Grand Mufti if it be not given up. Force themerchant Ali Mohammed to return the money received by him, using thesame threat--which will prove a talisman of power. Return to theinfidel woman the full amount; I will make good your commission,to which, if you be successful, I will add two hundred pounds."

  I performed some rapid thinking.

  "You must give me a little time to consider this matter," I said.

  Abu Tabah graciously inclined his head.

  "On Tuesday next a company of holy men who have journeyed hither fromIspahan, go to view this relic; you have therefore five days to act."

  "And if I decline?"

  Abu Tabah shrugged his shoulders.

  "The loss must be made known--it would be a great scandal; themerchant Ali Mohammed, and the woman, Shahmarah, must bearrested--very undesirable; _you_ must be arrested--most undesirable;and your banking account will be poorer by three hundred pounds."

  "Frightfully undesirable," I declared. "But suppose I strike the firstblow and give you in charge of the police here and now?"

  "You may try the experiment," he said.

  I waved my hand in the direction of the door (I had reasons forremaining in bed). "_Ma'salama!_ (Good-bye)," I said. "Don't stay torestore the room to order. I shall expect you early in the morning.You will find the door of the hotel open any time after eight and Ican highly recommend it as a mode of entrance."

  Having saluted me with both hands, Abu Tabah made his statelydeparture, leaving me much exercised in mind as to how he proposed toaccount to the _bowwab_ for his sudden appearance in the building.This, however, was no affair of mine, and, first reclosing the window,I unfastened from around my left ankle the sandalwood box and the ringwhich I had bound there by a piece of tape--a device to which I owedtheir preservation from the subtle fingers of Abu Tabah. Furthermore,to their presence there I owed my having awakened when I did. I ampersuaded that the mysterious Egyptian's passes would have continuedto keep me in a profound sleep had it not been for the pain occasionedby the pressure of the tape.

  Opening the sandalwood box, and then the silver one which it enclosed,I re-examined the really wonderful specimen of embroidery whereof theyformed the reliquary. The _burko_ was of Tussur silk, its texture sofine that the whole veil, which was some four feet long by two wide,might have been passed through the finger ring and would readily beconcealed in the palm of the hand.

  It was of unusual form, having no forehead band, more nearlyresembling a _yashmak_ than a true _burko_, and was heavilyembroidered with pearls of varying sizes and purity, although none ofthem were large. Its intrinsic value was considerable, but in view ofits history such a valuation must have fallen far below the true one.When its loss became known, I estimated that Messrs. Moses, Murphy &Co. could readily dispose of three duplicates through various channelsto wealthy collectors whose enthusiasms were greater than theirmorality. The sale to a museum, or to the lawful owners, of theoriginal (known technically as "the model") would crown a soundcommercial transaction.

  Cock-crow that morning discovered me at the private residence, in theBoulevard Clot-Bey, of one Suleyman Levi, with whom I had had minordealings in the past.

  V

  At nine o'clock on the following Monday night, an old Egyptian woman,enveloped from head to foot in a black _tob_ and wearing a black crepeface-veil boasting a hideous brass nose-piece, halted before a doorwayset in the wall guarding the great gardens of the palace of YussufBey. I was the impersonator of this decrepit female. Abu Tabah, whothus far had accompanied me, stepped into the dense shadow of theopposite wall and was thereby swallowed up.

  I rapped three times slowly upon the doorway, then twice rapidly.Almost at once a little wicket therein flew open, and a bloated negroface showed framed in the square aperture.

  "The messenger from Ali Mohammed of the Suk en-Nahhasin," I said, ina croaky voice. "Conduct me to the Lady Shahmarah."

  "Show her seal," answered the eunuch, extending through the openinga large, fat hand.

  I gave him the ring so fortunately discovered in the _tarbush_ of myfriend the merchant and the hand was withdrawn. Within a colloquy tookplace in which a female voice took part. Then the door was partlyopened for my admittance--and I found myself in the gardens of theBey.

  In the moonlight it was a place of wonder, an enchanted demesne; butmore like an Edmond Dulac water-color than a re
al garden. The palacewith its magnificent _mushrabiyeh_ windows, so poetically symbolicalof veiled women, guarded by several fine, straight-limbed palm trees,spoke of the Old Cairo which saw the birth of _The Arabian Nights_and which so many of us imagine to have vanished with the _khalifate_.

  A girl completely muffled up in many-hued shawls and scarves, so thather red-slippered feet and two bright eyes heavily darkened with_kohl_ were the only two portions of her person visible, stood beforeme, her figure seeming childish beside that of the gross negro--whomI hated at sight because he reminded me of the one whom I hadencountered in Abu Tabah's cellar.

  "Follow me, quickly, mother," said the girl. "You"--pointingimperiously at the black man--"remain here."

  I followed her in silence, noting that she pursued a path which ranparallel with the wall and lay wholly in its shadow. The gardens werefragrant with the perfume of roses, and in the center was a hugemarble fountain surrounded by kiosks projecting into the water, tallacacias overshadowing them. We skirted two sides of the palace, its_mushrabiyeh_ windows mysteriously lighted by the moon but showing noillumination from within. There we came to the entrance to a kind oftrellis-covered walk, mosaic paved and patched delightfully withmystic light. It terminated before a small but heavy and nail-studdeddoor, of which my guide held the key.

  Entering, whilst she held the door ajar, I found myself in utterdarkness, to be almost immediately dispelled by the yellow gleam ofa lamp which the girl took from some niche, wherein, already lighted,it had been concealed. Up a flight of bare wooden stairs she conductedme, and opened a second prison-like door at their head. Leaving thelamp upon the top step, she pushed me gently forward into a small,octagonal room, paneled in dark wood inlaid with mother-o'-pearl andreminding me of the interior of a magnified _kursee_ or coffee table.

  Rugs and carpets strewed the floor and the air was heavy with thesmell of musk, a perfume which I detest, it having characterized thepersonality of a certain Arab lady who sold me so marvelous a Damascusscimitar that I was utterly deceived by it until too late.

  Raising a heavy curtain draped in a door shaped like an old-fashionedkeyhole, and embellished with an intricate mass of fretwork carving,my guide went out, leaving me alone with my reflections. This intervalwas very brief, however, and was terminated by the reappearance of thegirl, who this time made her entrance through a second doorway maskedby the paneling. A faint musical splashing sound greeted me throughthe opening; and when my guide beckoned me to enter and I obeyed,I found myself in a chamber of barbaric beauty and in the presenceof the celebrated Shahmarah.

  The apartment, save for one end being wholly occupied by a magnificent_mushrabiyeh_ screen, was walled with what looked like Verde Anticomarble or green serpentine. An ebony couch having feet shaped as thoseof a leopard and enriched with gleaming bronze, having the skins ofleopards cast across it, and, upon the skins, silken soft cushionswrought in patterns of green and gold, stood upon the mosaic floor atthe head of three shallow steps which descended to a pool where afountain played, softly musical; wherein lurked gleaming shapes ofsilver and gold. Bright mats were strewn around, and at one corner ofthe pool a huge silver _mibkharah_ sent up its pencilings of aromaticsmoke.

  Upon this couch Shahmarah reclined, and I perceived immediately thather reputation for beauty was richly deserved. There was somethingleopardine in her pliant shape, which seemed to harmonize with thefierce black and gold of the skins upon which she was stretched; shehad the limbs of a Naiad and the eyes of an Egyptian Circe. Upon herhead she wore a _rabtah_, or turban, of pure white, secured anddecorated in front by a brooch of ancient Egyptian enamel-workprobably fourteenth dynasty, and for which I would gladly have givenher one hundred pounds. If I have forgotten what else she wore it maybe because my senses were in somewhat of a turmoil as I stood beforeher in that opulent apartment--which I suddenly recognized, and notwithout discomfiture, to be the _meslakh_ of the _hammam_. I can onlyrelate, then, that the image left upon my mind was one of jewels anddusky peach-like loveliness. Jewels there were in abundance, claspedabout the warm curves of her arms and overloading her fingers; shewore gold bands thickly encrusted with gems about her ankles (the slimankles of a dancing girl); and a fiery ruby of the true pigeon's-bloodcolor gleamed upon the first toe of her left foot, the nails of whichwere highly manicured and stained with henna.

  Fixing her wonderful eyes upon me--

  "You have brought the veil?" she said.

  "The merchant Ali Mohammed ordered me to convey to him the priceagreed upon, O jewel of Egypt," I mumbled, "ere I yielded up this apoor man's only treasure."

  Shahmarah sat upright upon the couch. Her delicate brows were drawntogether in a frown, and her eyes, rendered doubly luminous by thepigment with which they were surrounded, glared fiercely at me, whilstshe stamped one bare foot upon a cushion lying on the mosaic floor.

  "The veil!" she cried imperiously. "I will send the merchant AliMohammed an order on the treasury of the Bey."

  "O moon of the Orient," I replied, "O ravisher of souls, I am but apoor ugly old woman basking in the radiance of beauty and loveliness.Would you ruin one so old and feeble and helpless? I must have theprice agreed upon; let it be counted into this bag"--and concealingmy tell-tale hands as much as possible, I bent humbly and placed aleather wallet upon a little table beside her which bore fruits,sweetmeats, and a long-necked gold flagon. "When it is done, the_yashmak_ of pearls, which only thy dazzling perfection might dare towear, shall be yielded up to thee, O daughter of musk and ambergris."

  There fell a short silence, wherein the fountain musically plashed andShahmarah shot little inquiring glances laden with venom into themists of my black veil, and others which held a query over my shoulderat her confidant.

  "I might have you cast into a dungeon beneath this palace," she hissedat me, bending lithely forward and extending a jeweled forefinger. "Noone would miss thee, O mother of afflictions."

  "In that event," I crooned quaveringly, "O tree of pearls, the veilcould never be thine; for the merchant Ali Mohammed, who awaits me atthe gate, refuses to deliver it up until the price agreed upon hasbeen placed in his hands."

  "He is a Jew, and a son of Jews, who eats without washing! a devourerof pork, and an unclean insect," she cried.

  She extended the jeweled hand towards the girl who stood behind meand who, having loosened her wraps, proved to be a comely butshrewd-looking Assyrian. "Let the money be counted into the bag,"she ordered, "that we may be rid of the presence of this garrulousand hideous old hag."

  "O fountain of justice," I exclaimed; "O peerless _houri_, to beholdwhom is to swoon with delight and rapture."

  From a locked closet the Assyrian girl took a wooden coffer, andbefore my gratified eyes began to count out upon the little tablenotes and gold until a pile lay there to have choked a miser withemotion. (The ready-money transactions of the East have alwaysdelighted me.) But, with the chinking of the last piece of gold uponthe pile--

  "There is no more," said the girl. "It is one hundred pounds short."

  "It is more than enough!" cried Shahmarah. "I am ruined. Give me theveil and go."

  "O vision of paradise," I exclaimed in anguish, "the merchant AliMohammed would never consent. In lieu of the remainder"--I pointed tothe antique enamel in her turban--"give me the brooch from thy_rabtah_."

  "O sink of corruption!" was her response, her whole body positivelyquivering with rage, "it is not for thy filthy claws. Here!"--shepulled a ring containing a fair-sized emerald from one of her fingersand tossed it contemptuously upon the pile of money--"thou art morethan repaid. The veil! the veil!"

  I turned to the girl who had counted out the gold.

  "O minor moon, whom even the glory of paradise cannot dim," I said,"put the money in the wallet, for my hands are old and infirm, andgive it to me."

  The Assyrian scooped the gold and notes into the leather bag withthe utmost unconcern, and as though she had been shelling peas intoa basket. The profound disregard for wealth exhibit
ed in the _harem_of Yussuf Bey was extraordinary; and I mentally endorsed the opinionexpressed by Abu Tabah that the ruin of the Bey was imminent.

  Securing the heavy wallet to the girdle which I wore beneath myveilings, I placed upon the table where the money had lain a smallsilken packet.

  "Here is the veil," I said; "for my story of the merchant, AliMohammed, who had refused to yield it up, was but a stratagem totest the generosity of thy soul, as thy refusal to give me theprice agreed upon was but a subterfuge to test my honesty."

  Heedless of the words, Shahmarah snatched up the packet, tore off thewrappings, and in a trice was standing upright before me wearing the_yashmak_ of pearls.

  I think I had never seen a figure more barbarically lovely than thatof this soulless Egyptian so adorned.

  "My mirror, Safiyeh! my mirror!" she cried.

  And the girl placing a big silver mirror in her hand, she stood therelooking into its surface, her wonderful eyes swimming with ecstasy andher slim body swaying in a perfect rapture of admiration for her ownbeauty.

  Suddenly she dropped the mirror upon the cushions and threw wide herarms.

  "Am I not the fairest woman in Egypt?" she exclaimed. "I tread uponthe hearts of men and my power is above the power of kings!"

  Then a subtle change crept over her features; and ere I could utterthe first of the honeyed compliments ready upon my tongue--

  "Send Amineh to warn Mahmud that the old woman is about to depart,"she directed her attendant; and, turning to me: "Wait in the outerroom. Thy presence is loathsome to me, O mother of calamities."

  "I hear and obey," I replied, "O pomegranate blossom"--and, followingthe direction of her rigidly extended finger, I shuffled back to thelittle octagonal apartment and the masked door was slammed almost uponmy heels.

  This room, which possessed no windows, was solely illuminated by asilken-shaded lantern, but I had not long to wait in that weirdhalf-light ere my conductress, again closely muffled in her shawls,opened the door at the head of the steps and signed to me to descend.

  "Lead the way, my beautiful daughter," I said; for I had no intentionof submitting myself to the risk of a dagger in the back.

  She consented without demur, which served to allay my suspicionssomewhat, and in silence we went down the uncarpeted stairs and outinto the trellis-covered walk. The shadow beneath the high wall haddeepened and widened since we had last skirted the gardens, and Ifelt my way along with my hand cautiously outstretched.

  At a point within sight of the flower-grown arbor beneath which Iknew the gate to be concealed, my guide halted.

  "I must return, mother," she said quickly. "There is the gate, andMahmud will open it for you."

  "Farewell, O daughter of the willow branch," I replied. "May Allah,the Great, the Compassionate, be with thee, and may thou marry aprince of Persia."

  Light of foot she sped away, and, my forebodings coming to a suddenclimax, I crept forward with excessive caution, holding my clenchedhand immediately in front of my face--a device which experience ofthe hospitable manners of the East had taught me.

  It was well that I did so. Within three spaces of the gate a noosefell accurately over my head and was drawn tight with a stranglingjerk!

  But that it also encircled my upraised arm, its clasp must haveterminated my worldly affairs.

  My assailant had sprung upon me from behind; and, in the fleetinginstant between the fall of the noose and its tightening, I turnedabout ... and thrust the nose of my Colt repeater (which I grasped inthat protective upraised hand) fully into the grinning mouth of thenegro gate-keeper!

  There was a rattle and gleam of falling ivory, for several of the_bowwab's_ teeth had been dislodged by the steel barrel. Keeping theweapon firmly thrust into the man's distended jaws, I circled aroundhim, whilst his hands relaxed their hold upon the strangling-cord,and pushed him backward in the direction of the door.

  "Open thou black son of offal!" I said, "or I will blow thee a cavityas wide as thy blubber mouth through the back of that fat and greasyneck! This was, no doubt, a stratagem of thy mistress to test myfitness to be entrusted with large sums of money?"

  When, a few moments later, I stood in the lane outside the gardensof Yussuf Bey, and felt with my hand the fat wallet at my waist,I experienced a thrill of professional satisfaction, for had I notsuccessfully negotiated a duplicate veil, embroidered with imitationpearls which the excellent Suleyman Levi by dint of four days ofalmost ceaseless toil had made for me?...

  From the shadows of the opposite wall Abu Tabah stepped forth,stately.

  "Quick!" I said. "I fear pursuit at any moment! Is the _arabiyeh_waiting?"

  "You have it?" he demanded, some faint sign of human animationcreeping over his impassive face.

  "I have!" I replied. "I will give it to you in the _arabiyeh_."

  Side by side we passed down the deserted thoroughfare to where, besidea solitary palm, a pair-horse carriage was waiting. Appreciatingsomething of my companion's natural impatience, I pressed into hishand the famous sandalwood box which once had reposed in the _tarbush_of Ali Mohammed. The carriage rolled around a corner and out into thelighted Sharia Mobadayan. Abu Tabah opened the sandalwood box, andthen, reverently, the inner box of silver. Within shimmered the pearlsof the sacred _burko_. He did not touch the relic with his hands, butreclosed the boxes and concealed the reliquary beneath his black robe.I heard the crackle of notes; and a little packet surrounded by a bandof elastic was pressed into my hand.

  "Three hundred pounds, English," said Abu Tabah. "One hundred poundsin recompense for the commission you returned, and two hundred poundsfor the recovery of the relic."

  I thrust the wad into the bag beneath my robe containing the otherspoils of the evening. A second and even more grateful glow ofprofessional joy warmed my heart. For in the reliquary which I hadhanded to Abu Tabah reposed the second product of Suleyman Levi'sscientific toils; his four days' labor having resulted in theproduction of two quite passable duplicates; although neither were byany means up to the standard of Messrs. Moses, Murphy & Co.

  Coming to the house wherein I had endued my disguise, Abu Tabah leftme to metamorphose myself into a decently dressed Englishman suitablefor admission to an hotel of international repute.

  "_Liltak sa'ida_, Abu Tabah," I said.

  In the open doorway he turned.

  "_Liltak sa'ida_, Kernaby Pasha," he replied, and smiled upon me verysweetly.

  VI

  It was after midnight when I returned to Shepheard's, but I wentstraight to my room, and switching on the table-lamp, wrote a longletter to my principals. Something seemed to have gone wrong with thelock of my attache-case, and my good humor was badly out of joint bythe time that I succeeded in opening it. From underneath a mass ofbusiness correspondence I took out a large, sealed envelope, which Ienclosed with a letter in one yet larger, to be registered to Messrs.Moses, Murphy & Co., Birmingham, in the morning. I turned in utterlytired but happy, to dream complacently of the smile of Abu Tabah andof the party of holy men who had journeyed from Ispahan.

  Exactly a fortnight later the following registered letter was handedto me as I was about to sit down to lunch--

  The Hon. Neville Kernaby. Shepheard's Hotel, Cairo, Egypt.

  DEAR MR. NEVILLE KERNABY--

  We are returning herewith the silken veil which you describe as "the authentic _burko_ of the Seyyideh Nefiseh, stolen from her shrine in the Tombs of the Khalifs." Your statement that you can arrange for its purchase at the cost of one thousand pounds does not interest us, nor do we expect so high-salaried an expert as yourself to send us palpable and very inferior forgeries. We are manufacturers of duplicates, not buyers of same.

  Yours truly,

  LLOYD LLEWELLYN.

  (For Messrs. Moses, Murphy & Co.).

  I was positively aghast. Tearing open the enclosed package, I glaredlike a madman at the _yashmak_ which it contained. The silk, incomparison with that of whi
ch the real veil was compared, was coarseas cocoanut matting; the embroidery was crude; the pearls shrieked"imitation" aloud! At a glance I knew the thing for one of the pairmade by Suleyman Levi!

  The truth crashed in upon my mind. Following my visit to the _harem_of Yussuf Bey, I had bestowed no more than a glance upon the envelopewherein, early on the morning of the same day, I had lovingly sealedthe authentic veil; and a full hour had elapsed between the time ofparting with the sugar-lipped one and my return to my rooms at thehotel.

  I understood, now, why the lock of my attache-case had been out oforder on that occasion ... and I comprehended the sweet smile of AbuTabah!