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pity. To write! I decided to do that, for seek as I might it was the only method. At one time I thought of sending a message to him; but what slave could I send on such an unusual errand? I can not tell what inner consciousness convinced me that I alone would be listened to, and obeyed. Ten times did I take up my pen, and ten times did I throw it down. After much indecision, and with terror, I resolved. Only an anonymous warning was necessary, so I wrote these simple lines:

"A friend knows that you are in peril: your presence in Cairo is known. Fly immediately!"

Then I called Nazly, and, trusting to her fidelity, obtained a promise that she would get her sister to take it to Hassan's house. For the sake of safety, and to keep my secret better, we agreed that Zourah should not know who sent the message, and thus she could not question or answer. I felt relieved from a heavy responsibility. Buried in his imprudent seclusion, Hassan would at least learn that he must be on the alert. I impatiently awaited Nazly's return. She soon came back with the tidings that Zourah had accomplished her mission.

XI.

HE has gone; God be praised!... This has a little lightened this importunate care which I so idly caused myself. The day after the delivery of my mysterious advice the house was fastened, and Nazly's sister is convinced that the exile had flown. I have saved this unhappy man; and now I owe him nothing. I will now relate an incident to you which presages storms and tempests.

My sister Hosnah has returned, and I went to make my first visit to her, which I must describe in all its details, because it will prove all the life and happiness which are in store for me through this superb marriage of which the secret has never been divulged to me up to this hour.

It is now three days since, in my elegant costume of a sultana, and in a beautiful carriage, I left Chimilah, accompanied by Saïda, as richly appareled as myself. During the drive she again instructed me upon the ordained etiquette at such an important interview; and gave me a final lesson on ceremonial and bearing which was to be very complicated, for this time I was going to encounter the severest traditions of Islam. My little step-mother gave me information about the members of the family, whom I have never seen, and of the various wives of my brother-inlaw Mustapha, whom I was to meet. Four of these wives are as legitimate as my sister Hosnah, in consequence of which I owe them a certain respect.

We had soon crossed the town.

Situated in a street so narrow that the carriage appeared to enter it with difficulty, the palace of my sister Hosnah is a marvel of antiquity. The family of her husband, a descendant of green turbans, inhabited it for eight centuries, during which time nothing has been done to alter the primitive architecture, nor has more been done in the interior than to make requisite repairs. It is the only monument of this sort in this country where palaces, houses, and gourbis, all date from yesterday. When the carriage stopped, my little step-mother ceased her prattling, and became very serious under her bourko. The very door even of this secular palace has a formidable and imposing appearance. The first court was empty

-a double barrier for all Mussulman houses; then a second court, immense, without trees, and with a very high wall, with a well, the marble basin of which is green and worn by time. I was delighted by the elegant originality, the exquisite variety, the fantastic and delicate art of the windows, those jewels of Arab chiseling, those laces in wood, fine as a woman's veil, where the imagination and patience of the artist display according to caprice the most extravagant and the most wonderful execution. The immense wall at the rear is bare and flat, without windows or the least ornamentation. A single door is cut there, closed by a heavy curtain of white cloth covered with inscriptions, cut out of scraps of various colored silks. It is impossible to picture the effect of this brilliant drapery upon the discolored gray-stone. This was the entrance to the harem. Saïda pointed out to the left the Selamlik, a separate building where my brotherin-law Mustapha lives. On account of this vicinity, the windows of the harem open on the gardens on the other side. The curtain is lowered when the hanums are at home, and raised when they are out; it is also the custom not only for strangers, but even for the domestics, to make a long détour when they have occasion to pass this mysterious altar. On our arrival, about twelve young girls, who were drawing water, took flight as swiftly as a flock of pigeons. The boabs, who had hastened to the carriage, flew as soon as the steps were let down; it seemed a general sauve qui peut, and one would have supposed we brought the plague in our garments. In a few minutes the court was empty. Four eunuchs then came to meet us, and raised the terrible curtain for us. A large granite staircase, lighted by colored lanterns, until it was as bright as the daylight outside, led to the apartments. At the door I stopped amazed. only could know my sister Hosnah when she was seen at home. I do not know if her apparel was the result of her instinct or her skill. In the midst of her slaves, standing in a circle around

It seemed as if one

her, lying on a divan, the mouth-piece of a nargile between her lips, dressed in a robe of cherry satin covered with gems, she appeared to me still more imposing than at our first interview. The resolution of a fanatic betrayed itself, mingled with the gaze of a sphinx. Yet her eyes are very beautiful, bordered by a deep circle of kohl under their heavy brows, which meet in a black line. They fascinate by their magnetic power. She took her time to rise; her favorites dashing forward to support her. Slowly, with her exceptional majesty, she came toward me.

On the part of an eldest sister this reception was a distinguished proof of consideration and kindly feeling. I answered in my best style, bending to kiss the hem of her robe. While the slaves took off my féredjé, she said, examining my costume:

"This is well; you are a thorough Arab."

I took a place on the divan beside her. The windows of the harem, as I said, overlook the gardens on three sides; they are at an ordinary height, but seem very low, the ceiling being very lofty, formed like a dome, and decorated in squares of porcelain in the most ingenious method that Arab art has invented. It is cool to the eye, of a refined tone, and deliciously harmonious. A gallery in filigree silver runs around the sides of the room, with its sides of cedar-wood inlaid in pearl and ivory. Here and there on the walls were old appliques, where turquoise was sown; in little niches were étagères holding priceless pottery. All around the room was a divan of Persian silk, with piles of cushions scattered over the carpets. Nothing modern here. The single word Europe causes the eyes of my sister to flash. Never had a Christian sullied her doorsill; never had an infidel seen her face. Though I have profited by the instructions of Saïda so much, in the midst of a scene so different from Chimilah, I felt a little disconcerted. Sitting apart, each surrounded by her own group, in the midst of a little court, I soon recognized the hanums. They came up to me. My little stepmother named to me Fatma-Hanum, KhadoujaHanum, Aïssá-Hanum; this last of very noble birth, and scarcely twelve years of age. At a glance I decided on the superiority of our recluses at Chimilah to these. Ours are great childrenthese have not even gayety. The atmosphere of the harem enwraps them in a smiling sort of idiocy. Have they souls-thoughts? With their large eyes blackened by kohl, they looked at me until their curiosity was gratified, then they returned to their divans, where, without troubling themselves more about me, they returned to their far niente. A superb creature, covered with diamonds, suddenly entered, followed by a group of slaves. Saïda whispered in

my ear that she was the present favorite, and I should have suspected it from the airs of indolent superiority with which she received the adulation paid her. She came up and examined me as a rare object, asked me some amiable questions, then, carrying her finger to her lips, went and seated herself with crossed legs upon the cushions carefully arranged for her by the attendant eunuchs. Arousing me from my astonishment, Hosnah presented me to some distinguished visitors, who appeared to have been invited in honor of me. While they were overwhelming me with compliments and attentions, my mind was absorbed in a study of this extraordinary household. These rival hanums, possessing the same rights and titles, concealing without doubt atrocious jealousies, and forced to yield to this favorite slave whom the caprice of their master had placed above them, filled me at the same time with shame and pity. My sister Hosnah thrones herself in the midst of this, and reconciles herself to it, as the most natural thing in the world.

Fashion required that pipes and coffee should be brought. I do not know if Hosnah had desired to dazzle me, or whether this was the usual ceremony of the house, but I never saw any such pomp nor such solemnity. Thirty slaves marched in two lines, clothed like houris, the negresses contrasting with the blondes, and bringing out their pure pallor; all were young, and of a beauty remarkable in its type. At their head, the smallest bearing the arphs (the cups), the largest following with the waiters, the nargiles, and pipes, then closing the procession two Smyrniotes with their long blonde plaits trailing on the floor, bearing the cafetière in the form of a censer. Diamonds glistened wherever they moved. Instructed by Saïda, I made a very good appearance. I accepted the arph and the pipe, saluting my sister in Arab fashion, and, drinking my coffee, buried in the cushions of the divan, I puffed some clouds from my chibouk. An hour passed thus. Some of the visitors having taken leave, my sister and myself remained together alone.

"Miriam," she said abruptly, "has not our father spoken to you of his great scheme?" "What scheme?" I inquired, wishing to show discretion.

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destines for me?" asked I, more agitated than I wished to appear.

"How should I not know Mohammed? He is my husband's brother."

This unexpected revelation had the effect of a thunder-clap. Her husband's brother! I foresaw for myself, as in a bad dream, this frightful life now before my eyes, with its humiliations, its immodesty, and revolts; this strange mingling of wives and slaves; this degrading servility from which even the title of princess would not be able to save me. Was this in reserve for me?

I returned to Chimilah a prey to the wildest terror. My father had scarcely entered the next morning when I cried out:

"It is not true! It is impossible! Hosnah has deceived me! Tell me quickly that it is not true!"

“First tell me what is not true."

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That you wish to marry me to her brotherin-law Mohammed."

"Hosnah is a tattler," he answered, smiling; "but, since she has told it, there is nothing more to hide. But why this look of consternation? You have never seen him. You do not know him."

"But what necessity is there for me to have known him? It was sufficient for me to have been in the household of his brother yesterday to terrify me at the idea of a harem like his."

"Allah! What know you of it?" calmly answered my father. "Mohammed has no harem, and if he marries you he will never have another wife."

Though there was much in these assurances to calm my liveliest alarm, I did not yield.

"But if I do not love him, father?"

"Be at ease," he answered with a smile. "Have I not promised that you shall know your husband before marriage? Yet more, I do not wish to compel you, my dear child. If Mohammed is disagreeable to you-absolutely-well, you shall not marry Mohammed. Are you reassured?"

What could I answer to words so tender and reasonable? He spoke then of the hopes he had built on this superb match-one of the finest in Egypt-and of the happiness that would be mine. Mohammed is thirty. Educated in Europe, he is civilized, which accounts for his not resembling his brother in anything. A friend of the Khedive, and with great influence over him, he occupies one of the highest positions at court, where his great political ability makes him a sort of vizier. My father did not conceal the fact that this marriage would be the height of the ambition of my family, and he dwelt at length on the wondrously influential position I should occupy, and the great wealth it would bring me.

XII.

I SOON perceived that this great secret of my marriage was no longer a secret from any of the family; from my step-mother, Zeinab, down to Saïda, they never stopped gossiping about the happiness in store for me. I discovered it was a concerted understanding to assure victory to Seigneur Mohammed. Bell even joined the party, and, from what Farideh told her, was everlastingly pointing out to me the magnificent life I should have with such a husband. some days later, my father came one morning to inform me that at noon he would be awaiting me in a pavilion which almost joins the Selamlik. At this extraordinary departure from precedent, I realized that the first blow was struck.

Then,

'I shall have some one to present to you," he added, with a smile.

This news threw my entire house into confusion.

Though, in accordance with the inflexible rules, I could only appear at this presentation closely veiled, Nazly, naturally in their confidence, would deck me in my most beautiful toilet. Saïda would arrange my head with her own hands, placing first the bourko-you know the piece of stuff which is fastened below the eyesand over all the habarah, hiding the head and forehead. In spite of their jests and laughter, I was somewhat agitated. I felt an unconquerable emotion, which all these preparations increased. A thousand thoughts struggled in my brain, now one, now another, gaining the mastery. At one time the picture of Hosnah's harem would make me shudder; at another the promise of my father would give me confidence.

I was ready. Saida saw me go, nearly as agitated as if she were herself the victim. Nazly embraced me, so as to encourage me. Bell alone, very self-possessed under her veil, was to accompany me.

You know I am not brave, but I only tremble when the danger is in the distance. In an event like this, I arm myself with all my sang-froid. I would not allow myself to be swayed either by my anticipations nor by surrounding influences. I would refuse to take any part. Two eunuchs formed our escort; they ascended the steps before us, and introduced us. As I entered, my eyes rested on a person very elegantly dressed in European style, with a tarbouch on his head, who was sitting near my father. At my entrance he immediately rose.

Large, erect, with the profile of an antique. medal, his long lashes soften the flash of a gaze very proud and at the same time a little hard; a brown beard conceals all the lower part of the face.

'My daughter, his Excellency Mohammed Pasha, who has solicited the honor of being presented to you."

I bowed slightly.

My father spoke in Arabic. As if through gallant deference, the young Pasha uttered in French some phrases of delicate courtesy, in which he expressed his gratitude for a favor which he so highly estimated.

Bell, book in hand, had discreetly retired to a little distance. I took a place on the divan beside my father. Seigneur Mohammed sat in front of us in a fauteuil.

This visit à la Française was the most extraordinary and original proceeding ever heard of. It had all the form of a meeting in the Faubourg St.-Germain; but here the veil added a new feature-something like an intrigue with a mask on, covering an interview of lovers. The conversation that ensued was somewhat ceremonious, and on general topics. Apart from the gravity, at the same time easy and dignified, of the man of state, Mohammed does not lack intellect. Yet, to be frank, his haughty coldness was not unbecoming. But his smile has an ironical finesse which betrays the consciousness of slightly haughty superiority. My father made a remark on some point of foreign policy, and, with out knowing much about it, I ventured a timid observation. Mohammed's countenance expressed surprise; I had, it appeared, uttered a very subtile remark, which covered the point at issue between them.

"Eh! mon Dieu, mademoiselle," he said, "behold! we have you already a great politician."

My father laughed aloud. I lowered my eyes, blushing under my veil.

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He enjoyed my astonishment for a moment, then he took from his pocket-book a photograph which he showed me. I uttered a cry of amazement on recognizing myself. I gave my father a reproachful look, to which he seemed insensible, appearing to enjoy my defeat.

I had lost much of my assurance; for this veil, behind which I took refuge, no longer concealed me. The visit was soon ended, for, with a good taste for which I had not given him credit, as if he understood my embarrassment, Mohammed did not abuse his advantage over me. He rose, and, bowing very low, took his leave with a few graceful and respectful words. When he had left, I reproached my father with having so perfidiously betrayed me.

"You are an ingrate, Miriam," he answered. "To please you we set aside all established rules, and behold, you scold me for obeying you too well! Do you not see that Mohammed can not love you unless he knows you?" That was very true, and I was appeased. He inquired my impressions, and in daughterly confidence I owned that his protégé had made a very favorable impression on me. I criticised, though, something too searching in his gaze, an imperceptible shade of irony in his smile, a cold nature under the grave hauteur of his manner even in his gallant atten"Take care," I said with a slight dash of tions; but, after all, these are the trifling defects irony; “I may be very ugly." suitable to a politician. My father then informed

Mohammed did not pursue the subject, but gave the conversation a turn which restored it to its careless and indifferent tone. Emboldened by this strange situation, through his grave selfcontrol, a certain tone of gallantry was perceptible. I can not explain how, in the most apropos manner, he found a way of slipping in some very graceful compliments. Once I considered his praises fulsome.

"No, you are not," he replied in a tone of me, in addition to what he had told me before this confidence, very flattering to my vanity.

My father gave one of his little malicious laughs.

"How do you know?" I asked.
"Mademoiselle, I have my secrets.”
"Doubtless the gift of second-sight."
"I do not think so."

"Then-"

"Then I assure you that you are charming." Notwithstanding his boldness, this point

meeting, and which with very natural discretion Mohammed had not touched on, how affairs now stood. Everything had been understood in advance. Mohammed, like many other young Mussulmen of rank, had pledged himself to have but one wife. The arrangement of our ménage would be the same as Ali's and Adilah's, and he only would require the ceremonial etiquette out of the house.

At all events, I am permitted to reflect on it

before I decide: there is nothing to hurry me. We have just commenced our Ramadan—a fast of forty days. We must wait until that is ended before we can dream of the celebration of a marriage. It is a month's respite. What do you say to my romance? As you see, it is a very important affair, dearest, and I can not decide without deepest reflection. Marriage in itself is something terrifying in its incomprehensibility. Seigneur Mohammed impresses me favorably, I own, though I do not feel for him that sympathy which reassures and encourages. A single interview, it is true, is not sufficient to form an opinion; still, I recognize in him the apparent possession of sterling qualities—an attraction, a bearing, an education, sentiments-which distinguish him from all others. In short, I could not be ambitious of a husband more desirable in this Mussulman world to which I belong. Love is sometimes more lasting for not being too sudden. Mohammed possesses gifts which must flatter the pride of any woman. The favorable impression he made on me has relieved me from my terrors, and that is much to begin with. Why should not affection be born later, when I have awakened a heart stifled perhaps by the cares of business? Time is the best of counselors. We shall see.

XIII.

My life has suddenly gained an extraordinary excitement. The news of the marriage has been spread abroad before it is even fully decided on. At Chimilah they all consider it a fixed fact. Since the visit of Mohammed, Hosnah has been seized with such a friendship for me that she gives me no respite. Scarcely a day passes that she does not come to see me, carrying me off in her coach to introduce me to her friends, inventing a thousand pretexts for driving and fêtes. I no longer belong to myself, but seem won over by her flatteries.

In the midst of this strife, I have not been able to find a moment to go and see my dear Adilah; Hosnah accompanies me whenever I go out. We go together to Choubrah, where we meet Mohammed. Behind the lowered shades the sphinx-eye of my sister perceives him with such unerring certainty that one must believe she was prepared for the encounter. From the looks he gives at our coach, of which I suppose he recognizes the livery, I am confident he knows I am there. Etiquette forbids him to bow to me; yet a few days since, when our coupé collided with his in a narrow passage, I perceived an imperceptible sign, a movement of his eyes and lowering of the lashes.

and she continued her jests about the mad passion I have inspired.

She knows about the interview and the portrait, and approves of everything. Great Heavens! What has become of her 'old principles '? I can not disguise the fact that there is, in these meetings and this mystery, a sort of romantic perfume, which almost reconciles me to the barbarous rigor which hides us from all eyes. A lover alone, my dear, invented this code of adoration and respect. What woman could dare to complain of this jealous precaution, or this vigilant care to secure her from all eyes? There certainly are no such scruples in the pale loves of Europe. A nature at the same time fervent and idolatrous is the only one which can feel ardent passion. Veiled to all, the Mussulwoman belongs but to one. Does not the woman who exposes herself to admiration and envy give away something of herself?

Circumstances are more defined, and your little princess seems rushing on to the fatal dénoûment. Two days ago a bitter grief fell to my poor Nazly's share. Her sister's son, enlisted a little while since, had deserted. His mother rushed to us in her despair. He was to be shot. I immediately went to Hosnah's house, and she agreed to help us. A hanum has the right of calling at the house of a public official; and this had not been the first time that Hosnah sought the aid of her brother-in-law. She started immediately to seek him, promising to obtain pardon for the condemned, and I returned to Chimilah very hopeful. An hour later she came to my house. A free pardon was granted, and Mohammed would bring it to me.

"How!" cried I; "that is impossible." "Why?" she tranquilly inquired. "Has he not been here before?"

"That was very different; an interview authorized by my father."

"Well! This time it will be an interview authorized by me—that is all the difference." Where shall I receive him?”

to

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"I will accompany you to the pavilion."

I looked at her in amazement, not being able believe such a departure on the part of my sister. In truth, I had to let her do it. Mohammed was her near relation, and the authority she exercised over the family would excuse such hardihood. I did not think of dressing, for I was too much agitated in view of this new meeting, so unexpectedly improvised. I need not tell you she had not much trouble in convincing me. Half an hour later one of Hosnah's eunuchs came to inform her that Seigneur Mohammed had 'Did you see that?" exclaimed Hosnah. arrived, and we started for the famous pavilion. "He almost committed an indiscretion. You Mohammed awaited us. We were both tightcertainly make him lose his head," she added; ly veiled, of course. The magnificent embonpoint

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