Khaled, F. Marion Crawford [pdf ebook reader txt] 📗

of marriage. After that they all withdrew and Khaled took his seat upon the high couch in the middle of the room. Presently all the women returned, unveiled, with loud singing and playing of instruments, leading Zehowah dressed in the first of the dresses which she was to put on, and which, though it was very splendid, was of course the least magnificent of all those which had been prepared. But Khaled sat in his place looking on quietly, for he was acquainted with the custom, and he cared little for the rich garments, but looked always into Zehowah’s face. III

Khaled sat with his sword upon his feet, and when Zehowah was not in the room he played with the hilt and thought of all that was happening.

“Truly,” he said to himself, “Allah is great. Was I not, but a few days since, one of the genii condemned to perish at the day of the resurrection? And am I not now a man, married to the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and the wisest and the best, needing only to be loved by her in order to obtain an undying soul? And why should this woman not love me? Truly, we shall see before long, when this mummery is finished.”

So he sat on the couch while Zehowah was led before him again and again each time in clothing more splendid than before, and each time with new songs and new music. But at the last time the attendants left her standing before him and went away, and only a very old woman remained at the door, screaming out in a cracked voice the customary exhortations. Then she, too, went away and the door was shut and Khaled and Zehowah were alone.

It was now near the middle of the night. The chamber was large and high, lighted by a number of hanging lamps such as are made in Bagdad, of brass perforated with beautiful designs and filled with coloured glasses, in each of which a little wick floats upon oil. Upon the walls rich carpets were hung, both Arabian and Persian, some taken in war as booty, and some brought by merchants in time of peace. A brass chafing dish stood at some distance from the couch, and upon the coals the women had thrown powdered myrrh and benzoin before they went away. But Khaled cared little for these things, since he had seen all the treasures of the Earth in their most secret depositories.

Zehowah had watched him narrowly during the ceremony of the dresses and had seen that he felt no surprise at anything which was brought before him.

“His own country must be full of great wealth and magnificence,” she thought, “since so much treasure does not astonish him.” And she was disappointed.

Now that they were alone, he still sat in silence, gazing at her as she stood beside him, and not even thinking of any speech, for he was overcome and struck dumb by her eyes.

“You are not pleased with what I have shown you,” Zehowah said at last in a tone of displeasure and disappointment. “And yet you have seen the wealth of my father’s palace.”

“I have seen neither wealth nor treasure, neither rich garments, nor precious stones nor chains of gold nor embroideries of pearls,” Khaled answered slowly.

But Zehowah frowned and tapped the carpet impatiently with her foot where she stood, for she was annoyed, having expected him to praise the beauty of her many dresses.

“They who have eyes can see,” she said. “But if you are not pleased, my father will give me a hundred dresses more beautiful than these, and pearls and jewels without end.”

“I should not see them,” Khaled replied. “I have seen two jewels which have dazzled me so that I can see nothing else.”

Zehowah gazed at him with a look of inquiry.

“I have seen the eyes of Zehowah,” he continued, “which are as the stars Sirius and Aldebaran, when they are over the desert in the nights of winter. What jewels can you show me like these?”

Then Zehowah laughed softly and sat down beside her husband on the edge of the couch.

“Nevertheless,” she said, “the dresses are very rich. You might admire them also.”

“I will look at them when you are not near me, for then my sight will be restored for other things.”

Khaled took her hand in his and held it.

“Tell me, Zehowah, will you love me?” he asked in a soft voice.

“You are my lord and my master,” she answered, looking modestly downward, and her hand lay quite still.

She was so very beautiful that as Khaled sat beside her and looked at her downcast face, and knew that she was his, he could not easily believe that she was cold and indifferent to him.

“By Allah!” he thought, “can it be so hard to get a woman’s love? Truly, I think she begins to love me already.”

Zehowah looked up and smiled carelessly as though answering his question, but Khaled was obliged to admit in his heart that the answer lacked clearness, for he found it no easier to interpret a woman’s smile than men had found it before him, and have found it since, even to this day.

“You have had many suitors,” he said at last, “and it is said that your father has given you your own free choice, allowing you to see them and hear them speak while he was receiving them. Tell me why you have chosen me rather than the rest, unless it is because you love me? For I came with empty hands, and without servants or slaves, or retinue of any kind, riding alone out of the Red Desert. It was therefore for myself that you took me.”

“You are right. It was for yourself that I took you.”

“Then it was for love of me, was it not?”

“There were and still are many and good reasons,” answered Zehowah calmly, and at the same time withdrawing her hand from his