Khaled by F. Marion Crawford (best e book reader android TXT) 📕

things,” she said, “and when our lord the Sultan has been informed of them, he will doubtless cause his soldiers to go forth with sticks and purify the hides of the chief evil-speakers in the bazaar. There is one especially, a merchant whose shop is opposite the door of the little mosque, who is continually bold in falsehood, being the same who sold me this garment for linen; but it afterwards turned out to be cotton and the gold threads are brass and have turned black. I pray Allah to be just as well as merciful.”

At first Zehowah laughed, but soon afterwards her face became grave, and she bent her brows, for though the story was but a lie she saw how easily it would find credence. She therefore sent the old woman away with a gift and she herself went to Khaled, and sat down beside him and took his hand.

“You have secret enemies,” she said, “who are plotting against your life, and who have already begun to attack you by filling the air of the city with falsehoods which fly from house to house like flies in summer entering at the window and going out by the door. You must sift this matter, for it is worthy of attention.”

“And what are these lies of which you speak?”

“It is said openly in the city that you are a Shiyah and a Persian, having been a robber before you came here, and that you are plotting to deliver over Nejed to the Persians. Look to this, Khaled, for they say that you are no Bedouin since no one knows your descent nor the name of your father.”

“Do you believe this of me, Zehowah?” Khaled asked.

“Do I believe that the sun is black and the night as white as the sun? But it is true that I do not know your father’s name.”

Then Khaled was troubled, for he saw that it would be a hard matter to explain, and that without explanation his safety might be endangered. Zehowah sat still beside him, holding his hand and looking into his face, as though expecting an answer.

“Have I done wisely in telling you?” she asked at last. “You are troubled. I should have said nothing.”

“You have done wisely,” he answered. “For I will go and speak to them, and if they believe me, the matter is finished, but if not I have lost nothing.”

“It will be well to give the chief men presents, and to distribute something among the people, for gifts are great persuaders of unbelief.”

“Shall I give them presents because they have believed evil of me?” asked Khaled, laughing. “Rather would I give you the treasures of the whole Earth because you have not believed it.”

“If I had the wealth of the whole world I would give it to them rather than that they should hurt a hair of your head,” Zehowah answered.

“Am I more dear to you than so much gold, Zehowah?”

“What is gold that it should be weighed in the balance with the life of a man? You are dearer to me than gold.”

“Is this love, Zehowah?” Khaled asked, in a low voice.

“I do not know whether it be love or not.”

“The wing of night is lifted for a moment, and the false dawn is seen, and afterwards it is night again. But the true dawn will come by and by, when night folds her wings before the day.”

“You speak in a riddle, Khaled.”

“It is no matter. I will neither make a speech to the people, nor give them gifts. What is it to me? Let them chatter from the first call to prayer until the lights are put out in the evening. My fate is about my neck, and I cannot change it, any more than I can make you love me. Allah is great. I will wait and see what happens.”

“Everything is undoubtedly in Allah’s hand,” said Zehowah. “But if a man, having meat set before him, will not raise his right hand to thrust it into the dish, he will die of hunger.”

“And do you think that Allah does not know before whether the man will stretch out his hand or not?”

“Undoubtedly Allah knows. And he also knows that if you will not sift this matter and stop the mouths of the liars, I will, though I am but a woman, for otherwise we may both perish.”

“If they destroy me, yet they cannot take the kingdom from you, nor hurt you,” said Khaled. “How then are you in danger? If I am slain you will then choose a husband, whose father’s name is known to them. They will be satisfied and you will be no worse off than before and possibly better. This is truth. I will therefore wait for the end.”

“Who has put these words into your mouth, Khaled? For the thought is not in your heart. Moreover, if the tribes should rise up and overthrow you, they would not spare me, for I would fight against them with my hands and they would kill me.”

“Why should you fight for me, since you do not love me? But this is folly. No one ever heard of a woman taking arms and fighting.”

“I have heard of such deeds. And if I had not heard of them, others should through me, for I would be the first to do them.”

“I think that so long as Khaled lives, Zehowah need not bear arms,” said Khaled. “I will therefore go and call the chief men together and speak to them.”

And so he did. When the principal officers who had remained in the city during the winter season were assembled in the kahwah, and had hung up their swords on the pegs and partaken of a refreshment, Khaled sent the slaves away, and spoke in a few words as was his manner.

“Men of Riad, Aared and all Nejed,” he said, “I regret that more of you are not present here, but a great number of sheikhs are still