French And Oriental Love In A Harem - French and Oriental Love in a Harem Part 13
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French and Oriental Love in a Harem Part 13

In truth nothing could be more correct; I was caught in her trap, and could say nothing more, for fear of exciting suspicion in her alert and penetrating mind. I had no doubt in my own mind that my aunt's real object was to satisfy a curiosity which she had cherished for a long time past. How could I oppose this tenacious purpose of hers? By what plausible pretext could I divert her from taking a step so natural, and so cleverly justified? I was caught, and my only hopes rested in Mohammed's behaviour, and in his gibberish dialect, which would at least render conversation so difficult, that it would be easy for me to intervene. We rolled on in the carriage; my aunt was delighted. I succeeded pretty well in concealing my apprehensions. After all, the chief danger seemed to be over directly my aunt stopped at the official entrance of El-Nouzha. The "selamlik," inhabited by Mohammed, where we were received, is according to the Turkish custom, entirely separated from the harem, the gardens of which are walled off from it, and hidden from sight.

In a quarter of an hour we arrived in front of His Excellency's abode.

The gate was shut, as it always is. The footman got down and rang, but no one answered the bell. For a moment I had hopes; but at the third ring of the bell (which my aunt ordered), one of Mohammed's servants, a Cerberus stationed on this side of the house, showed himself at the grating of the inner door.

"His Excellency Mohammed-Azis is at home, is he not?" shouted my aunt.

"Tell him that Monsieur Andre de Peyrade has called to see him."

Recognising me in the carriage, Cerberus hesitated. He was actually going to open the gate to let the carriage pass through. I sharply commanded him to do as my aunt told him. To give Mohammed warning, was at once to put him on his guard.

"There is no need for taking the carriage in," said my aunt; "we will cross the lawn on foot. The lawn is there still, I suppose?"

"Yes, aunt."

"Well, then, give me your hand to get out, and now forward! If His Excellency will not receive us, I shall at least have had a glimpse of a corner of the park. What a funny idea it was of the Captain to let him this place!"

She led me on without any more ado, and we entered.

"Oh! the sycamores have grown splendidly," she said.

At that moment we noticed Mohammed coming down the steps, and walking towards us.

"Ah, His Excellency has not forsaken his old ideas!" said my aunt; "he still wears the costume of the true believers. As he is coming, let us hurry on, to be polite."

The danger was impending, nothing could now save me from it. I summoned up all my self-control. When I was a few steps off His Excellency, I slipped away quickly and ran up to him.

"Be careful," I said to him in a whisper; "it is my aunt. Keep your counsel, and don't let her suspect anything."

Then I went through the formal introduction, delivering it in the famous _sabir_ which I told you of. Mohammed in the same idiom was fashioning a compliment as profound as it was difficult to understand, when my aunt all at once answered him in the purest Turkish.--I felt myself quite lost.

A minute afterwards we were ensconced in the drawing-room of the "selamlik." My aunt described the object of her visit. I must tell you that this rascal Mohammed played his part with the most affable gravity imaginable, albeit somewhat timidly, as if he felt whizzing through the air a shadowy reminder of the stick with which, no doubt, my uncle had trained him. I kept my eye on him all the time, and his eye wandered from me to my aunt with a distressed expression. Great drops of perspiration started from his face. Finally, at a sign from me, he generously promised his subscription, and on the whole got through the ordeal very well.

My anxieties being now removed, I was beginning to breathe more fully, when my aunt, just as the interview was coming to a close, expressed to him, in the most gracefully delicate manner possible, her desire to pay a visit to his daughters, whose acquaintance she would be delighted to make.

I was stupefied. To have refused the _entree_ of the harem to a lady of my aunt's rank would have been an offence to her; she was too well acquainted with Mussulman customs for it to be possible to put her off with any pretext. Mohammed, still maintaining his dignified attitude, replied without any hesitation, by a gesture of delighted acquiescence, and without the least embarrassment got up, saying that he was about to inform them of their good fortune. I felt rather reassured. From the manner in which the old fellow had acted "His Excellency," it was clear that this was not the first time he had been called upon to "save the situation."

"You would like to follow me, I daresay," said my aunt with a laugh, as soon as he had left us.

"Why, of course," I replied, in a careless enough tone. "Still, if his daughters take after him, you will admit that it may be better to content myself with my illusions."

"You dear innocent boy! Why, with a Turk, you never know what to expect!"

Mohammed came back to tell my aunt that her visit had been announced, and then, preceding her with a dignified bow he opened for her the gates communicating with the harem. I remained behind. What would happen?

Although the remarkable self possession of my eunuch had set me more at my ease, it was a critical moment. It was evident that there would be great excitement among my houris. They would feel at home gossiping with my aunt, as she spoke Turkish, and they would very likely let out everything. If one of them mentioned my name only, my aunt would guess it all.

I waited in a state of suspense such as you can imagine. Finally, after half-an-hour of cruel anxieties, the sound of the closed door in the neighbouring room informed me that I was about to know my fate. My aunt came in, and I did not dare look her in the face. Fortunately I gathered from her first words that I had nothing more to fear; she complimented Mohammed upon his good fortune as the father of such charming daughters, promising often to return to spend a few hours with them, and then at last we said "Good-bye" to His Excellency.

On our return, my aunt persisted in her eulogiums upon the young Turkish women, chaffing me about my long solitary period of waiting for her, separated only by a few walls from those pretty birds shut up in their golden cage. During the whole of luncheon she regaled my uncle with her description of these wonderful beauties. He kept looking at me from the corner of his eye with a furious expression.

As soon as I could escape, I ran off to El-Nouzha to question Mohammed about what had happened in the harem. He related the whole scene to me in detail. Nazli, Hadidje, and Zouhra were alone when he went to prepare them for my aunt's visit. As Koudje-Gul was reading in her room, she had not been informed of it. At the news of such a great event my houris screamed with joy. Trained as he had been by my uncle never to forget his part as the father, he had taken care to remind them that, in accordance with French usage, they must not allow it to be in the least suspected that they knew me. They promised to do as he wished them, swearing faithfully to keep all his commands. My aunt was then introduced. When they saw her, my houris rose up rather frightened, but she soon set them at ease with a kind word, and then conversation began.

Needless to say, the countess's toilet formed the chief topic of discourse.

I will not try to depict for you the state of excitement in which I found my sultanas, nor the accounts which they had to give me themselves of this great event. Their sanguine imaginations were already occupied by the absolute necessity, as they deemed it, of returning my aunt's call. Her kindness had very naturally charmed them to the point of believing that no obstacle could arise to hinder the continuance of friendly relations so well inaugurated. They went on chattering all the evening about the incidents of this lucky and delightful event, taking particular pleasure in repeating before Koudje-Gul who had been absent (and whom they confidently hoped to exclude from their new relations), all the kind things which the pasha's wife had said to them. It was certainly a splendid revenge upon their rival for that evening escapade which she had boasted so much about.

Poor Kondje-Gul, disappointed as she was already at having had no share in this unexpected treat, listened without a word, her sad eyes questioning me all the time. I reassured her with a nod, letting the silly creatures prattle away in their glee, and amuse themselves with sanguine projects of such a revolutionary character that it would have been impossible to discuss them.

I began to consider for myself the best way to cut short these unforeseen complications. Although I was out of danger for the present, the veil which concealed the secrets of El-Nouzha was only supported by a thread. My aunt was not the woman to remain long deceived, and with her quick mind, the slightest imprudent word, the slightest clue, would suffice to arouse her suspicions. I did not even feel sure but what my aunt, impelled by her curiosity, might be only too eager to exchange visits with His Excellency's daughters, and the very thought of this was enough to make me tremble.

The result of my cogitations was a resolve to take decisive measures for putting a stop to such extremely delicate and critical complications as I apprehended. It might, indeed, have been possible for me, while carefully mystifying every one, to have continued unabashed my oriental pursuits and avocations under the secure shelter of the walls of El-Nouzha. They represented, after all, nothing worse than one of those intrigues in the neighbourhood with which my aunt had herself credited me, but after this visit to the Kasre which had brought her into contact with my houris, the most ordinary respect for the proprieties required me to prevent such conjunctures from recurring. Moreover, our time at Ferouzat was drawing to a close, for we were to spend the winter in Paris. I therefore determined to anticipate our departure, and to remove my harem immediately. Once lost in the crowd and din of Paris, my secret would be safe.

The removal is now settled. A talk with my uncle simplified matters. As you may imagine, I had to explain to him the risks entailed by such an occurrence as my aunt's visit, which might lead her mind to revert to some incidents in the Captain's past life which had so far remained unintelligible. Barbassou Pasha did not trouble himself very seriously about it, but he approved of my decision, and, contenting himself with a few growls at me by the way, affectionately proceeded to give me the assistance of his experience. It seems that he has--or rather I have--a house at Paris, which was furnished expressly for the use of His Excellency Mohammed Azis during my uncle's visits there. Orders have already been sent to have it ready. Then plausible reasons for my departure have been invented; some pretended business of importance, which we have been discussing several days past before my aunt, and which "might necessitate my presence in Paris." Truly my uncle's composure is wonderful!

As to my houris of El-Nouzha, I need hardly tell you that the coming journey has been the subject of a most extraordinary enthusiasm on their part. The idea of seeing Paris has quite turned their heads, and caused them to forget their proposed visits to Ferouzat. In order to put all conjectures off the scent, Mohammed is going to start to-morrow ostensibly for Marseilles, as if he were returning to Turkey. The cool November weather having set in, nothing could be more natural than this return to his native land. The end of his journey, however, will be the Faubourg St. Germain, to which he will direct his course by a circuitous route, and where I shall rejoin him on my arrival at Paris next week.

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CHAPTER VII.

The deed is done! We managed everything without the slightest hitch. I write to you from Paris, from our house in the Rue de Varennes; it seems like years since I was last there, so many things have happened during the six months since I left it. All my surroundings belong to a life so different from my present one, that it requires an exertion of thought to identify myself and realise my position here.

My harem is established in the Rue de Monsieur--in the former "Parc aux Cerfs" of my uncle--a splendid mansion, the gardens of which reach to the Boulevard des Invalides. My uncle has absolutely the genius of an ancient Epicurean transferred by accident into our own century. To look at the street, with its cold and deserted aspect, one might imagine oneself in a corner of aristocratic Versailles. My mystery is safely hidden away there. Mohammed while at Paris is no longer an exiled Minister, but simply a rich Turk who has acquired a taste for European civilisation. His name is Omer-Rashid-Effendi, a name under which he has already passed here twice.

My houris are astonished with all they see, and their pleasure is indescribable. Of course my first care was to Europeanise their toilettes. In pursuance of my orders (for, as you may be sure, I do not appear in such matters) a fashionable dressmaker was sent for by Mohammed. What a business it was! The difficulty was to avoid making them, with their oriental styles and deportments, look stiff and awkward when confined for the first time in the garb of our civilised torture-house.

By a happy compromise between fashion and fancy, the clever _artiste_ has contrived for them costumes which are marvels of good taste and simplicity. Nothing could be more successful than this metamorphosis; their _coiffures_ complete the picture, and I can hardly recognise my almees under the bewitching little hats worn by our Parisian women. I assure you it is a transfiguration replete with surprises and unexpected charms. Attired like our women of fashion, their striking and original beauty, which was my admiration at El-Nouzha, impresses me in quite a novel manner, which I seem to understand better as I compare them by the side of our own women. Like young foreign ladies of distinction habited in the costumes of our civilisation, they seem to shed around them wherever they go a sort of exotic fragrance.

Everything, of course, had to be changed now that they are in Paris; they could no longer follow the routine of their former existence within the four walls of the harem. They were now at liberty to go out walking, and take little trips; but here at once appeared a most serious difficulty for them to overcome. How could they show themselves in the streets, the Champs Elysees, or the Bois, without their veils just like infidels? That was a serious question! It was impossible for them to make up their minds to such a shameful breach of Mussulman law; and, if I must admit it, I myself experienced a strange sort of revulsion at the thought of it. Yes, to this have I come! Nevertheless, on the other hand, it was quite out of the question for them to shew themselves out of doors enshrouded in their triple veils, attracting wherever they went the remarks of the idle crowd.

At last, after a great many hesitations, Zouhra, who is the bravest of them all, ventured to go out with me, buried in the recesses of a brougham, and protected by a very thick kind of mantilla, which after all was hardly any less impenetrable than a _yashmak_. Then they grew bolder, and impelled by curiosity, their coquetry getting the better of their bashful timidity, they took a drive one day in a landau to the Bois with Mohammed. I mounted on horseback and met them, without appearing to know them. Everything went off as well as could be.

The carriage which I had purchased is severely simple in style, as is suitable for a foreigner of distinction. In his European disguise Mohammed maintains that expression of serene dignity which so excellently suits his part of a father escorting his three daughters.

There is, in short, nothing about the latter to excite attention. If a dark pair of eyes is sometimes distinguishable through the embroidered veils, the fashion, at any rate, permits the features to be sufficiently disguised to conceal the beauty of my sultanas from over-bold glances.

Of course poor Kondje-Gul, still living away from the others, does not take part in these frolics; but we thus gain some hours of liberty. On the second day, while my _wives_ were driving in the Bois, we took our opportunity of going out, like true lovers, arm in arm; it was most delightful!

We went on foot to the Boulevards. You may guess what raptures Kondje-Gul was in each step we took. It was the first time she had been out with me alone, the first time she had felt herself free and released from the imprisonment of the harem. Many an inquisitive fellow, seeing us pass, and struck with her dignified manner, stopped of a sudden, and tried to distinguish her features through the veil. We quietly laughed at his disappointment.

When we arrived at the Rue de la Paix, we went into some of the well-known jewellers' shops. At the sight of so many marvels, you may guess how she was dazzled. She felt as if in a dream. We spoke in Turkish; and the puzzled shop-keepers gazed in astonishment upon this strange display of Asiatic charms, which they had evidently met with for the first time. All this amused us; and it is unnecessary to add that I quitted these haunts of temptation with a considerably lighter purse than when I entered them.

We have already had several of these little sprees, and nothing can be more fascinating than Kondje-Gul's childish delight; everything is new to her. Transported, as if by magic, from her monotonous existence at El-Nouzha into the midst of these splendours, this free life, and this animated world, she feels like one walking in a dream; the whole atmosphere intoxicates her.

We form plans innumerable. In the first place we have decided that her position in regard to my wives shall be definitely fixed, and that she shall live henceforth separated from them in another part of the house, where she shall have private attendants. We shall thus be able to see each other without any constraint, and she will no longer be subjected to the sneers of my silly houris, who have been treating her apparent disgrace too brutally since our arrival at Paris. My proud Kondje-Gul, in the consciousness of her ascendency over me, would be sure to make a scene with them some day.

Besides, as I have already told you, she furnishes me every day with a more and more engrossing subject of study. I should like you to understand what sweet and seductive labour this progressive initiation is; I am watching the development of a mind which I am myself forming.