University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

The fickleness of the human mind, its susceptibility to
outward and accidental impressions, is never more fully
demonstrated than during a period of suspense. We have
seen how Meredith's shy and sensitive distrust in the merits
of his suit had given place to an unwarrantable confidence;
how this blind confidence had in its turn startled him into a
nervous and shrinking dread of his own success; and how
both these emotions had been suddenly dispelled by the magical
influence of Havilah's presence and smiles. Not less
contradictory was the mental state of the ringleader of nuptial
festivities in El Fureidîs, and that of the reserved and
solitary man who sat in his room at nightfall, musing on the
events of the day. The one was roused, exhilarated, transported
beyond himself by the intoxication of the scene and
hour. In the full enjoyment of the society which he most
craved, privileged beyond others, and unconscious of a rival,
he had forgotten the past and the future in the certainty of
present rapture.

It was but a natural reaction, which, when the day was
done, and the festive drama ended, left him, who never in
his life before had played a part on such a stage, oppressed
with loneliness, despondency, and that mortifying suspicion
of his own unbecoming levity, which is sure to take possession
of the proud and serious man who has committed himself
to a full participation in any extravagant show of mirth
and gayety.

Moreover, each moment that he had continued in the
companionship of Havilah had secured the postponement
of that unwelcome crisis, that formal and delegated proclamation
of his hopes, to which he had been involuntarily hurried
by M. Trefoil. Now Meredith could not but feel a
pang of regret and uneasiness at the thought that he had
for the last time secretly nursed his passion for the beautiful
girl, and that when they met again he must perforce
present himself before her in the light of an acknowledged
lover.

This idea acted as anything but a sedative after the
excitements and fatigues of the day. The young man's
blood, too, was heated by exercise and exposure to the
Syrian sun, and it was in vain that he struggled with the
restlessness which agitated him. Had he been a sentimental
boy, he might have cheated time by wandering forth in
the moonlight, and watching the lamp which flickered in his
beloved one's window. But Meredith was a man of thirty,
an Englishman too, and an aristocrat; and the romance
of his nature, deep as it was, lay not upon the surface.
If he could not be calm, he could at least resolve to be
so; if he could not be patient, he could conduct himself
as if he were.

He assumed a comfortable position, therefore, on his divan,
called for his narghileh, puffed regularly at it, and
watched the curling volumes of smoke as they floated
upward in the moonlight, with as much intensity as if these
mimic clouds were slowly unrolling scrolls, on which were
written the successive pages of his future destiny. This
endeavor to cheat himself into composure was so successful,
that, the pipe-tube resting idly in his hand for a moment,
the servant who came to bring him coffee stepped noiselessly,
believing him to be making kef,—to have reached

indeed the ultimate stage in that process which signifies, in
Syrian parlance, the luxury of repose. Even the lynx-eyed
Abdoul, who presented himself to report concerning the welfare
of the Arab horses, still under his charge, paused at
the open alcove, and, his penetration for once at fault, was
deceived by his master's affectation of case, and, with an
Oriental's deference for slumber, left his errand unfulfilled,
and crept away as stealthily as he had come.

But though the feint might impose upon others, it could
not long beguile its object, or soothe him to self-oblivion;
and the jealous malice of Abdoul would have been gratified,
could he have seen the discontented and irritable haste with
which, the moment that he was freed from the boy's espionage,
Meredith pushed his narghileh-stand impatiently
from him, and, rising abruptly from the divan, paced his
room with folded arms and rapid step, — a proceeding
which, during the remaining hours of the night, alternated
with intervals of forced tranquillity and unrefreshing rest.

Towards morning a new resolution seized him, and the gray
dawn was but just tinging the highest cliffs of the Lebanon,
when, donning his felt hat and shooting-jacket, and flinging
his gun over his shoulder, he sallied forth in search of
Abdoul, whom he proposed to make his companion on a
hunting excursion among the mountains. It was no difficult
matter to discover the boy, whose invariable lodging was a
little hut, — a mere recess in the more spacious apartment
allotted to his own and Meredith's horses. A word, too, was
sufficient to rouse him from his light sleep, and the quick
shake which he gave his lithe limbs and flowing drapery,
with the hasty settling of his white turban, was the only
adjustment which his toilette demanded; for the Arab's
striped abaya is his nightly coverlid, and he may almost be
said to sleep with lance in rest. It was a more serious undertaking,

however, to prepare the horses for duty,—to
groom them with that nicety of skill which makes the coat of
the desert courser rival a polished mirror, to caparison the
animals with their elaborate housings, to hang around their
necks the game-bags, powder-flasks, and numerous other
requisites of a shooting-excursion, no one of which was forgotten
by the thoughtful and practised Abdoul. All these
were cares which would not admit of haste; and the imperturbable
gravity of the youth's demeanor could not be disturbed
nor his deliberate movements quickened by the impatience
of Meredith, who, having loosened and fed the dogs,
which were kennelled near by, was compelled to await the
pleasure and convenience of his princely, and in some respects
arbitrary servitor.

The sun had just reached the snowy crests of the mountains,
as the two huntsmen left the village behind them and
wound down the precipitous bridle-path that led through the
adjacent valley, and thence to the more densely wooded
cliffs beyond. Morning had illumined the heights of the
Lebanon, which glittered like hoar-frost; but the mantle of
night yet rested on her valleys, and each deep ravine was
curtained with a long veil of mist. High up in the blue
ether the lark was singing a melodious song; far down
might be dimly discerned the majestic eagle or the greedy
vulture, hovering expectantly along the filmy wreaths of fog,
which were soon destined to disperse and disclose whatever
prey or carrion might be concealed in the rocky depths
below.

Every tree and shrub glittered with dew, every blossom
and vine distilled fragrance, and the breeze, which came
laden with sweets, was at the same time so fresh and health-giving
as to carry with it an invigorating glow, a fuller sense
of vitality. Meredith could not be insensible to the inspiring

freshness of nature. The fever which had marked his
night vigils subsided as the cool air played about his temples
and the refreshing influence of morning stole in upon
his spirit. Life, the fresh life of the woods and glens, was
everywhere astir. The sound of the horses' feet started out
whole coveys of red-legged partridges; the quail was heard
whirring up from the thick underwood which lined the pathway;
flocks of pigeons were cooing amid the branches of
the distant fir-trees, and now and then a nimble hare darted
before the eyes of the huntsmen.

The American Indian is not more quickly fired by the
detection of an enemy's trail than the aristocratic young
Englishman by the scent of game. Thus, preoccupied as
he was, the force of habit and instinct had somewhat the
effect of sportsman-like zeal, and, half unconsciously, Meredith
reined in his horse and poised his musket with artistic
precision. The mental agitation under which he labored,
however, betrayed itself in the fact, that in this instance our
hitherto unfailing marksman missed his aim, disgraced a
pedigree of noble sportsmen, and afforded a momentary triumph
to Abdoul, who was the first to bring down his bird.
The boy now unhooded a beautiful white falcon, which he
held by the talons, displayed to it the first-fruits of his skill,
then flung this new partner of the chase high into the air.
The well-trained hawk fluttered a moment as if bewildered,
then spread its wings, and soared upward until only the
keenest eye could follow its flight, and until the musical
sound of the silver bells attached to its feet was lost to the
ear. Not long did it continue aloft. Its piercing vision
had marked its prey; and now, with lightning plunge,
it shot downwards from its airy point of observation, and
swooped into the depths of the valley, from which the mist
had by this time dispersed. An interval of considerable

duration ensued, the expectant silence being only interrupted
by the shrill, peculiar whistle with which Abdoul gave his
signals and strove to recall the bird. At length, the sudden
flapping of wings proclaimed its faithful return, and the next
moment it came floating up the side of the precipice, and
laid a plump partridge at its master's feet. Its services were
promptly repaid by caresses, by a jargon of compliments uttered
in the vocabulary known only to the falconer and his
hawk, and still more substantially by the panting bird's being
suffered to slake its thirst with the warm blood of its victim.

Meredith meanwhile had watched the successful chase
and victory with half-absent interest, peering after the falcon
with persevering steadiness, and admiring the perfection of
its training. Perhaps there mingled with his satisfaction in
this peculiarly Oriental sport a certain sense of relief at the
excuse it afforded him for his personal indifference to taking
part in the day's pastime. At all events, he suffered the
rein to rest loosely on his horse's neck, and, scarcely taking
the trouble to reload his gun, abandoned the field of adventure
to the boy and his favorite, and gave himself idly to
observation of the chase.

Again and yet again the winged emissary was despatched
on its unfailing errand. The game-bag was thus filling rapidly;
but the exhausted falcon occasionally demanded rest,
and at frequent intervals the cautious Abdoul replaced its
hood, and compelled it to repose against his breast, its talons
firmly grasped in his small, wiry hand. During these periods
Meredith, impatient of inaction, urged his horse over mountain
and through valley, and ere noon had put several hours
of travel between himself and El Fureidîs. The road was
one of those intricate bridle-paths known only to expert and
adventurous rovers like Abdoul, and wholly unfamiliar to
Meredith. It was with excited surprise, therefore, that, hav

ing towards midday gained a summit which commanded a
wide prospect, he beheld bursting upon his view a stately
palace of Moorish architecture, with slender pillars extending
from roof to ceiling, and surrounded by numerous flat-roofed
buildings, and long lines of light arcades.

The gigantic structure, with its attendant courts, completely
covered an elevated platform, beyond which stretched a
fertile valley, lying between mountains whose sides were
festooned with the olive, the mulberry, and the vine, and
whose distant opening disclosed the blue sea-line of the
Mediterranean. Checking his horse, Meredith turned in
amazement towards Abdoul, seeking enlightenment concerning
this fantastic castle, which had burst upon them as the
palace of the Genii dawns upon the traveller of the fairy
tale.

“It is Eptedeen,” responded Abdoul, his dark face lit up
with a glow of pride, as he thus introduced to Meredith the
residence of the chief Emir of Lebanon,[1] and the beautiful
and picturesque country beyond. “The wide portal stands
open night and day,” continued the youth; “the Frank and
the Arab are both sure of a welcome. Shall we go thither
to rest our horses, and smoke a pipe beside the fountain of
the inner court, beneath the pomegranate shade?”

Meredith hesitated; the distance was considerable, but the
Emir's palace was well worth visiting, and he had, moreover,
an urgent motive for prolonging his excursion until nightfall.
He therefore answered by an affirmative nod, and,

setting spurs to their horses, they both plunged down the
steep path, leading into one of those ravines which here, as
everywhere among the mountains, intercepted the approach
to a spot apparently near at hand.

As the sure-footed steeds strained up the opposite side of
the abyss, affording their riders a glimpse of the outer courts
of the palace, it became evident that their arrival was well
timed, as the occasion chanced to be a holiday, or court reception
of the Emir, and could not fail to furnish a fund of
interest and novelty to the Englishman.

Congregated in the court-yard were representatives of all
the mountain tribes, Druses, Maronites, Greeks, Armenians,
and Metuales, whose variegated costumes and characteristic
attributes imparted a picturesque animation to the scene.
Most of them had come thither on horseback, and long lines
of Arabian horses, decked with gay and costly trappings,
were secured to cords which were stretched for the purpose
across opposite sides of the enclosure. Camels, lying down
beside the fountain, or standing grouped together in corners,
skilful youths exercising with the lance, servants and officials
hastening hither and thither, all combined to give effect
to the strange and exciting scene.

The massive entrance gate was guarded by Arabs, armed
with muskets and spears; they saluted the new-comers, and
gave the password to Abdoul, who, as the frequent emissary
of his tribe, was no stranger at the palace. Meredith, following
his guide's example, now alighted from his horse, which
was immediately taken in charge by an Abyssinian slave, and
accompanied the Arab boy within an outer suite of apartments,
where he was left waiting until the arrival of so distinguished
a guest had been suitably announced. Whatever
might be Abdoul's private sentiments, it was none the less
pleasure and policy on his part to exalt the character and

office of the man whom he served, and that this duty was
fulfilled in no stinted degree was made evident by the stately
dignity of the embassy which soon appeared to conduct
the Englishman to the presence of the Emir.

After traversing a succession of marble-paved apartments,
surrounded by richly-carpeted divans, Meredith gained a
second court decorated with fountains, shrubs, and flowers,
passed through a light open arcade, and entered a saloon
crowded with officers in waiting, and separated only by a
heavy damask curtain from the elevated platform whereon
the Emir gave audience. As Meredith passed through this
throng of richly clad courtiers, he gave a deprecating glance
at his own faded hunting-suit; but no one present seemed
conscious of the rudeness of his toilette, and all saluted him
with graceful deference as he preceded them into the great
man's presence.

The Sheik, Said Jimblât, was a handsome Druse Arab,
somewhat advanced in years, with a light gray beard, a clear
eye, and a fresh complexion. He was clad in a long white
robe, with a girdle of cashmere, and, seated at an angle of
his crimson divan, presented a mild and dignified appearance.
His reception of Meredith was cordial in the extreme: his
return of the Englishman's polite obeisance was condescending,
and, immediately beckoning the unexpected guest to a
seat by his side, he, by means of his interpreter, welcomed
him to Eptedeen, inquired after his health, and proceeded to
question him with eagerness concerning his country, his
queen, and the politics of Europe.

There can scarcely be a nobler tribute to Great Britain
than is contained in the fact, that, even in remote and but
partially civilized lands, her representatives, whether in a
public or a private capacity, almost invariably receive that
respect which is due to the sons of a nation renowned for

its wealth, its moderation, and the protection which it affords
to human rights and freedom. Thus Meredith forgot himself,
for a while, in the patriotic glow with which he listened
to the eulogy pronounced by the Lebanon chief upon his
mother country. He responded to it by equally sincere
compliments upon the good order, peace, and tranquillity
which prevailed under the Emir's government, and the
conversation, which was prolonged for nearly an hour,
was mutually satisfactory. The Sheik urged upon his guest
every species of hospitality; but, pleading the necessary
briefness of his visit, Meredith declined all save a cup of
coffee and a pipe served in the presence of the Emir, and
a hasty banquet which awaited the stranger in one of the
lower courts, after a final salutation and blessing on the part
of his host.

A visit to the baths and stables, however, performed under
the guidance of one of the officers of the household,
consumed a considerable space of time, and it wanted but
a few hours of sunset when Abdoul, who had meanwhile
been entertained in another part of the castle, was once
more summoned to his master's presence, and with little
further delay they set out on their return.

The road which they now pursued was more direct than
that by which they had come thither, but seemed to Meredith
more hopelessly impassable than any he had yet experienced.
As the travellers were, even by the shortest route,
several hours' distance from El Fureidîs, and midday was
long since past, there was no time to be lost in council or
dialogue; and with silent, patient caution the two horsemen
guided and encouraged their steeds, which, refreshed like
their masters by the hospitalities of Eptedeen, surmounted
with admirable sure-footedness and skill the manifold difficulties
of the way. Here the dry bed of a mountain stream

afforded the only pass between perpendicular cliffs, and,
strewn as it was with shapeless masses of rock, it presented
rather the appearance of a rampart than a road;—there
the steep ascent became so smooth and slippery, that it was
a marvel where the horses contrived to wedge their iron-pointed
hoofs;—and more than once the narrow defiles
seemed eternally barred up by heavy boulders, which had
fallen directly across the bridle-path, and must be surmounted
at imminent peril of life and limb.

But habit makes light of danger. Abdoul's white mare
was a very mountain chamois, and Meredith was in a mood
to encounter risk and hardship with stoical fortitude and
indifference. Thus the journey was pursued for hours with
an uncomplaining perseverance, which was at length rewarded
by an abrupt exit from the highland gorges into an
open basin or valley lying between two spurs of the Lebanon,
an oasis of verdure, beyond which El Fureidîs might be
dimly discerned, suspended from an opposite acclivity, and
now accessible by a comparatively easy and rapid approach.
The setting sun was casting long rays of purple light across
the landscape, as Meredith and his guide, suddenly freed
from the intricacies of mountain travel, by a simultaneous
movement gave rein to their horses and commenced galloping
across the little plain, preceded by the panting dogs
which had been the unflagging companions of their excursion.

One more incident completed the adventures of the day.
Not far from the entrance to the valley, where a light
silvery cascade leaped from a projecting rock and filled to
overflowing a natural basin below, a little group of gazelles
were quenching their thirst before seeking their nightly
refuge in the mountains. Half hid as the shy creatures
were by the glossy-leaved oleanders that grew around the

fountain, Meredith and Abdoul might have failed to espy
them; but the keen-scented dogs, having been kept in check
during the morning lest they should interfere with the sport
of the falcon, were now on the alert, and quickly started
their game.

But the fairy-footed herd were not to be easily captured.
With one bound they cleared the vicinity of their
enemy; before Meredith or Abdoul had observed them,
they were half-way across the plain, and out of gun-shot;
a moment more, and they would have gained a safe retreat
among the rocks and clefts at the opposite extremity of
the valley. Pursuit seemed fruitless, for what foot can
rival that of the gazelle? But one more triumph was
yet reserved for Abdoul's winged hunter. Quick as the
lightning-flash the boy had unloosed the hawk and flung it
aloft; with a wild, fierce scream it had shot obliquely upward
like an arrow, and now, at the critical moment when
the frightened gazelles had almost gained their place of
shelter, it pounced upon its prey, threw it to the ground,
and flapped its heavy wings in the face of the struggling,
panting creature, at the same time whirling it round and
round with savage velocity.

Meanwhile the bewildered herd, thus assailed from an unexpected
quarter, dispersed in frantic uncertainty and fear,
flying madly into the pathway of the dogs, and heedlessly
bringing themselves within the range of the huntsmen's guns.
A shot from Meredith carried instant death to one; another,
wounded by Abdoul's bullet, bounded high into the air, then
fell upon its knees, a helpless victim. The Arab youth lingered
to complete the work of destruction; but the Englishman,
after taking aim and pulling the trigger of his musket,
scarcely waited to observe the effect of his shot, but hurried
to the spot where the struggle was still continued between
the falcon and the prostrate gazelle.

For a moment he watched the conflict with the air of a
connoisseur; then, his compassion aroused by the helplessness
of the gentler animal and the inequality of the contest,
he enlisted himself on the side of the feebler party, and
strove to rescue it from the talons of the excited bird. His
efforts were in vain, however; the hawk glanced at him
with threatening eyes, and refused to relax its hold. Abdoul
was by this time within hail, and, obedient to a loud
call from his master, hastened to the spot. Deaf and obstinate
as the falcon had proved towards a stranger, at a simple
signal from the Arab it promptly relinquished its prey,
suffered itself once more to be hoodwinked, and meekly submitted
to the treatment due rather to a captive than a conqueror.

At the same moment that Abdoul grasped the talons of
the bird with his left hand, with his right he drew from his
belt a sharp khangar, and prepared to strike the gazelle, but
was checked by Meredith, who hastily threw back the
youth's arm and arrested the blow. Meredith's sympathies
were now fully awakened in favor of the animal, which,
released from the claws of its persecutor, lay stunned and
apparently lifeless before him. Perhaps its likeness to
Havilah's little attendant, which it closely resembled, had
enlisted his interest; for after placing his hand on its heart,
and discovering that it yet beat, he was caressingly stroking
its head, when it slowly opened its eyes and fixed them upon
him in tender, pathetic appeal. There was no resisting
those melting orbs, so like Havilah's own, so perfect a counterpart
of those which always maintained with her a complete
though mute understanding.

“Stay, boy!” was Meredith's exclamation, as, intercepting
Abdoul's dagger, he lifted the unresisting gazelle from the
ground. “Put up your knife,—we will take the creature

home and tame it,”—he added, at the same time mentally
resolving to present it to Havilah as a mate and companion
for her favorite.

With dogged and unwilling obedience Abdoul replaced
his poniard in its sheath, and looked on with secret anger
and disdain, while Meredith proceeded to dress the wounds
of the animal, and, the better to secure and protect it, tied
around its limbs the long scarf which he wore in Oriental
fashion outside his hat. These operations completed, he
handed his protegé over to Abdoul, with an imperative
charge to carry it carefully in his arms to the villa. The
boy received his burden with a malignant scowl, which was
quite unobserved by Meredith, who remounted the horse
that had meanwhile been grazing beside him, and, whistling
to his dogs, rode rapidly off in advance of his attendant,
who with clenched fist and menacing gesture looked after
his master, and seemed to hesitate whether or not to follow
him.

With that patient allegiance, however, which is with his
race a habit superior to almost every impulse, he paused
but a moment, then followed closely on Meredith's track.
That the burden he carried awakened in him emotions
directly the reverse of those which actuated Meredith
might be gathered from the fact that he bestowed on it
scarcely more care than on the slain of its species which
hung from his horse's neck. It may even be doubted
whether he did not meditate a sly piece of treachery, for
so loose and indifferent was his hold upon the animal, so
heedlessly did he suffer its legs to slip from their bands,
that, had not Meredith turned at the right moment to make
sure of the little creature's safety, it would inevitably have
made its escape to its native mountains, or have perished of
its wounds by the wayside.

Without a word of reproof, but with a glance so severe
as to be an unmistakable reprimand, Meredith leaned from
his horse and relieved the boy of his unwelcome charge,
which the Englishman once more wrapped in the mantle,
folded to his bosom, and soothed, during the remainder of
the ride, with tender and fostering care.

“Here, Bachment,” he shouted to M. Trefoil's Syrian servant,
whom he met near the gate-way of the villa, “you
are a trustworthy lad; take care of this little creature.
Here is something to pay you for your trouble; it shall be
doubled, if your good nursing heal the poor thing's wound;”
—and as he spoke, he placed a piece of money in the hand
of the youth. The latter joyfully accepted the commission,
and followed Meredith up the stone steps of the terrace with
exultant face and reiterated and eager thanks.

As Abdoul watched these proceedings, and the covetous
eye of his race caught the gleam of the silver coin, his countenance
for a moment betrayed signs of savage eagerness
and disappointment; but a passion stronger than avarice
immediately succeeded, if one might judge from the malignant
scowl which, as he turned away, distorted his handsome
face, and the muttered imprecations with which, as
he led the horses to their stable, he invoked the curse of
Allah on the hated Frank.