A much greater man; his physician. The white mule stopped at the very stall where this conversation was taking place. The pages halted, and stood on each side of their master, the footmen kept off the crowd.
Merchant, said Honain, with a gracious smile of condescension, and with a voice musical as a flute, Merchant, did you obtain me my wish?
There is but one God, replied the dealer, who was the charitable Ali, and Mahomed is his Prophet. I succeeded, please your highness, in seeing at Aleppo the accursed Giaour, of whom I spoke, and behold, that which you desired is here. So saying, Ali produced several Greek manuscripts, and offered them to his visitor.
Hah! said Honain, with a sparkling eye, tis well; their cost?
The infidel would not part with them under five hundred dirhems, replied Ali.
Ibrahim, see that this worthy merchant receive a thousand.
As many thanks, my Lord Honain.
The Caliphs physician bowed gracefully.
Advance, pages, continued Honain; why this stoppage? Ibrahim, see that our way be cleared. What is all this?
A crowd of men advanced, pulling along a youth, who, almost exhausted, still singly struggled with his ungenerous adversaries.
The Cadi, the Cadi, cried the foremost of them, who was Abdallah, drag him to the Cadi.
Noble lord, cried the youth, extricating himself by a sudden struggle from the grasp of his captors, and seizing the robe of Honain, I am innocent and injured. I pray thy help.
The Cadi, the Cadi, exclaimed Abdallah; the knave has stolen my ring, the ring given me by my faithful Fatima on our marriage-day, and which I would not part with for my masters stores.
The youth still clung to the robe of Honain, and, mute from exhaustion, fixed upon him his beautiful and imploring eye.
Silence, proclaimed Honain, I will judge this cause.
The Lord Honain, the Lord Honain, listen to the Lord Honain!
Speak, thou brawler; of what hast thou to complain? said Honain to Abdallah.
May it please your highness, said Abdallah, in a whining voice, I am the slave of your faithful servant, Ali: often have I had the honour of waiting on your highness. This young knave here, a beggar, has robbed me, while slumbering in a coffee-house, of a ring; I have my witnesses to prove my slumbering. Tis a fine emerald, may it please your highness, and doubly valuable to me as a love-token from my Fatima. No consideration in the world could induce me to part with it; and so, being asleep, here are three honest men who will prove the sleep, comes this little vagabond, may it please your highness, who while he pretends to offer me my coffee, takes him my finger, and slips off this precious ring, which he now wears upon his beggarly paw, and will not restore to me without the bastinado.
Abdallah is a faithful slave, may it please your highness, and a Hadgee, said Ali, his master.
And what sayest thou, boy? inquired Honain.
That this is a false knave, who lies as slaves ever will.
Pithy, and perhaps true, said Honain.
You call me a slave, you young scoundrel? exclaimed Abdallah; shall I tell you what you are? Why, your highness, do not listen to him a moment. It is a shame to bring such a creature into your presence; for, by the holy stone, and I am a Hadgee, I doubt little he is a Jew.
Honain grew somewhat pale, and bit his lip. He was perhaps annoyed that he had interfered so publicly in behalf of so unpopular a character as a Hebrew, but he was unwilling to desert one whom a moment before he had resolved to befriend, and he inquired of the youth where he had obtained the ring.
The ring was given to me by my dearest friend when I first set out upon an arduous pilgrimage not yet completed. There is but one person in the world, except the donor, to whom I would part with it, and with that person I am unacquainted. All this may seem improbable, but all this is true. I have truth alone to support me. I am destitute and friendless; but I am not a beggar, nor will any suffering induce me to become one. Feeling, from various circumstances, utterly exhausted, I entered a coffee-house and lay down, it may have been to die. I could not sleep, although my eyes were shut, and nothing would have roused me from a tremulous trance, which I thought was dying, but this plunderer here, who would not wait until death had permitted him quietly to possess himself of a jewel I value more than life.
Show me the jewel.
The youth held up his hand to Honain, who felt his pulse, and then took off the ring.
O, my Fatima! exclaimed Abdallah.
Silence, sir! said Honain. Page, call a jeweller.
Honain examined the ring attentively. Whether he were near-sighted, or whether the deceptive light of the covered bazaar prevented him from examining it with ease, he certainly raised his hand to his brow, and for some moments his countenance was invisible.
The jeweller arrived, and, pressing his hand to his heart, bowed before Honain.
Value this ring, said Honain, in a low voice.
The jeweller took the ring, viewed it in all directions with a scrutinising glance, held it to the light, pressed it to his tongue, turned it over and over, and finally declared that he could not sell such a ring under a thousand dirhems.
Whatever be the justice of the case, said Honain to Abdallah, art thou ready to part with this ring for a thousand dirhems?
Most certainly, said Abdallah. And thou, lad, if the decision be in thy favour, wilt thou take for the ring double the worth at which the jeweller prizes it?
My lord, I have spoken the truth. I cannot part with that ring for the palace of the Caliph.
The truth for once is triumphant, said Honain. Boy, the ring is thine; and for thee, thou knave, turning to Abdallah, liar, thief, and slanderer!for thee the bastinado,21 which thou destinedst for this innocent youth. Ibrahim, see that he receives five hundred. Young pilgrim, thou art no longer destitute or friendless. Follow me to my palace.
The arched chamber was of great size and beautiful proportion. The ceiling, encrusted with green fretwork, and studded with silver stars, rested upon clustered columns of white and green marble. In the centre of a variegated pavement of the same material, a fountain rose and fell into a green porphyry basin, and by the side of the fountain, upon a couch of silver, reposed Honain.
He raised his eyes from the illuminated volume on which he had been long intent; he clapped his hands, and a Nubian slave advanced, and, folding his arms upon his breast, bowed in silence before his lord. How fares the Hebrew boy, Analschar?
Master, the fever has not returned. We gave him the potion; he slumbered for many hours, and has now awakened, weak but well.
Let him rise and attend me.
The Nubian disappeared.
There is nothing stranger than sympathy, soliloquised the physician of the Caliph, with a meditative air; all resolves itself into this principle, and I confess this learned doctor treats it deeply and well. An erudite spirit truly, and an eloquent pen; yet he refines too much. Tis too scholastic. Observation will teach us more than dogma. Meditating upon my passionate youth, I gathered wisdom. I have seen so much that I have ceased to wonder. However we doubt, there is a mystery beyond our penetration. And yet tis near our grasp. I sometimes deem a step, a single step, would launch us into light. Here comes my patient. The rose has left his cheek, and his deep brow is wan and melancholy. Yet tis a glorious visage, Meditations throne; and Passion lingers in that languid eye. I know not why, a strong attraction draws me to this lone child.
Gentle stranger, how fares it with thee?
Very well, my lord. I come to thank thee for all thy goodness. My only thanks are words, and those too weak; and yet the orphans blessing is a treasure.
You are an orphan, then
I have no parent but my fathers God.
And that God is
The God of Israel.
So I deemed. He is a Deity we all must honour; if he be the great Creator whom we all allow.
He is what he is, and we are what we are, a fallen people, but faithful still.
Fidelity is strength.
Thy words are truth, and strength must triumph.
A prophecy!
Many a prophet is little honoured, till the future proves his inspiration.
You are young and sanguine.
So was my ancestor within the vale of Elah. But I speak unto a Moslem, and this is foolishness.
I have read something, and can take your drift. As for my faith, I believe in truth, and wish all men to do the same. By-the-bye, might I inquire the name of him who is the inmate of my house?
They call me David.
David, you have a ring, an emerald cut with curious characters, Hebrew, I believe.
Tis here.
A fine stone, and this inscription means
A simple legend, Parted, but one; the kind memorial of a brothers love.
Your brother?
I never had a brother.
I have a silly fancy for this ring: you hesitate. Search my palace, and choose the treasure you deem its match.
Noble sir, the gem is little worth; but were it such might deck a Caliphs brow, twere a poor recompense for all thy goodness. This ring is a trust rather than a possession, and strange to say, although I cannot offer it to thee who mayst command, as thou hast saved, the life of its unhappy wearer, some stranger may cross my path to-morrow, and almost claim it as his own.
And that stranger is
The brother of the donor.
The brother of Jabaster?
Jabaster!
Even so. I am that parted brother.
Great is the God of Israel! Take the ring. But what is this? the brother of Jabaster a turbaned chieftain! a Moslem! Say, but say, that thou hast not assumed their base belief; say, but say, that thou hast not become a traitor to our covenant, and I will bless the fortunes of this hour.
I am false to no God. Calm thyself, sweet youth. These are higher questions than thy faint strength can master now. Another time well talk of this, my boy; at present of my brother and thyself. He lives and prospers?
He lives in faith; the pious ever prosper.
A glorious dreamer! Though our moods are different, I ever loved him. And thyself? Thou art not what thou seemest. Tell me all. Jabasters friend can be no common mind. Thy form has heralded thy fame. Trust me.
I am Alroy.
What! the Prince of our Captivity?
Even so.
The slayer of Alschiroch?
Ay!
My sympathy was prophetic. I loved thee from the first. And what dost thou here? A price is set upon thy head: thou knowest it?
For the first time; but I am neither astonished nor alarmed. I am upon the Lords business.
What wouldst thou?
Free his people.
The pupil of Jabaster: I see it all. Another victim to his reveries. Ill save this boy. David,for thy name must not be sounded within this city,the sun is dying. Let us to the terrace, and seek the solace of the twilight breeze.
What is the hour, David?
Near to midnight. I marvel if thy brother may read in the stars our happy meeting.
Men read that which they wish. He is a learned Cabalist.
But what we wish comes from above.
So they say. We make our fortunes, and we call them Fate.
Yet the Voice sounded, the Daughter of the Voice that summoned Samuel.
You have told me strange things; I have heard stranger solved.
My faith is a rock.
On which you may split.
Art thou a Sadducee?
I am a man who knows men.
You are learned, but different from Jabaster.
We are the same, though different. Day and Night are both portions of Time.
And thy portion is
Truth.
That is, light.
Yes; so dazzling that it sometimes seems dark.
Like thy meaning.
You are young.
Is youth a defect?
No, the reverse. But we cannot eat the fruit while the tree is in blossom.
What fruit?
Knowledge.
I have studied.
What?
All sacred things.
How know you that they are sacred?
They come from God.
So does everything. Is everything sacred?
They are the deep expression of his will.
According to Jabaster. Ask the man who prays in yonder mosque, and he will tell you that Jabasters wrong.
After all, thou art a Moslem?
No.
What then?
I have told you, a man.
But what dost thou worship?
What is worship?
Adoration due from the creature to the Creator.
Which is he?
Our God.
The God of Israel?
Even so.
A frail minority, then, burn incense to him.
We are the chosen people.
Chosen for scoffs, and scorns, and contumelies. Commend me to such choice.
We forgot Him, before He chastened us.
Why did we?
Thou knowest the records of our holy race.
Yes, I know them; like all records, annals of blood.
Annals of victory, that will dawn again.
If redemption be but another name for carnage, I envy no Messiah.
Art thou Jabasters brother? So our mother was wont to say: a meek and blessed woman.
Lord Honain, thou art rich, and wise, and powerful. Thy fellow-men speak of thee only with praise or fear, and both are cheering. Thou hast quitted our antique ark; why, no matter. Well not discuss it. Tis something; if a stranger, at least thou art not a renegade. The world goes well with thee, my Lord Honain. But if, instead of bows and blessings, thou, like thy brethren, wert greeted only with the cuff and curse; if thou didst rise each morning only to feel existence to be dishonour, and to find thyself marked out among surrounding men as something foul and fatal; if it were thy lot, like theirs, at best to drag on a mean and dull career, hopeless and aimless, or with no other hope or aim but that which is degrading, and all this, too, with a keen sense of thy intrinsic worth, and a deep conviction of superior race; why, then, perchance, Honain might even discover twere worth a struggle to be free and honoured. I pray your pardon, sir; I thought you were Jabasters pupil, a dreaming student. I see you have a deep ambition.
I am a prince; and I fain would be a prince without my fetters.
Listen to me, Alroy, said Honain in a low voice, and he placed his arm around him, I am your friend. Our acquaintance is very brief: no matter, I love you; I rescued you in injury, I tended you in sickness, even now your life is in my power, I would protect it with my own. You cannot doubt me. Our affections are not under our own control; and mine are yours. The sympathy between us is entire. You see me, you see what I am; a Hebrew, though unknown; one of that despised, rejected, persecuted people, of whom you are the chief. I too would be free and honoured. Freedom and honour are mine, but I was my own messiah. I quitted in good time our desperate cause, but I gave it a trial. Ask Jabaster how I fought. Youth could be my only excuse for such indiscretion. I left this country; I studied and resided among the Greeks. I returned from Constantinople, with all their learning, some of their craft. No one knew me. I assumed their turban, and I am the Lord Honain. Take my experience, child, and save yourself much sorrow. Turn your late adventure to good account. No one can recognise you here. I will introduce you amongst the highest as my child by some fair Greek. The world is before you. You may fight, you may love, you may revel. War, and Women, and luxury are all at your command. With your person and talents you may be grand vizir. Clear your head of nonsense. In the present disordered state of the empire, you may even carve yourself out a kingdom, infinitely more delightful than the barren land of milk and honey. I have seen it, child; a rocky wilderness, where I would not let my courser graze.