He took Saïd’s bridle and led him out of the throng and the sunlight into a maze of byways, narrow, dark and dirty. There were archways, short tunnels, sleeping dogs and evil smells. Saïd saw many women with their faces uncovered. Most of the men also in this region wore the fez alone, or, if a turban, it was informal, of black or grey. He feasted his eyes on the charms of the maids and matrons with lazy contempt. They were Christians, unbelievers and accursed. Yet men and women walked bravely in the middle of the causeway, and were in no haste to humble themselves before a true believer and one that rode upon a horse.
Referring to his guide for enlightenment—
“This is the Nazarene quarter,” replied the muleteer. “Here, by the mercy of the Sultàn, the infidels are suffered to live apart under a chief of their own religion. It is their ancient privilege, and none grudged it them of old, when the dogs were meek and obedient to the law. In those days they were not abhorred by the faithful, who lived peacefully with them, claiming only the right of the conqueror. But now that they grow fat and insolent, because of the Frankish consuls who pamper them, they are become loathsome as Jews in our sight. The fault is with the consuls, who shield and abet them in whatever they do. The worst of them will tell you that they are French subjects or Muscovite, and will show papers to that effect given them by the consul. Your grace marvels—not so?—to hear a common man discourse of such high matters. Know, O effendi, that Selìm speaks not of his own knowledge”—he twitched the hem of his robe lightly to shake off any dust of responsibility that might cling to it. “He has kept silence in the tavern while wise men spoke, and the ears of Selìm carried something of the matter to his understanding. Moreover, it would be hard to find a man in all the city at present, be he notable or beggar, true believer, or Nazarene, or Jew, who is not possessed with politics as with a devil.”
Saïd, whose ears had given heed, though his eyes were wandering, frowned terribly as his guide ceased speaking. “It were a righteous deed,” he said, “to slay every dog of them and burn their quarter with fire.” There was fierce light in his eyes.
“Ah!” said the muleteer, “but the Franks are powerful and their vengeance would be dire. As thou knowest, the French and English gave aid to the Turks in the late Muscovite war, and in return they claim to govern the Sultàn’s realm instead of him. True believers are but as dogs in their sight, and they would set up a Nazarene in every high place. Allah! have mercy! Alas for the evil day that has dawned for the faith!”
But the light in Saïd’s eyes was no other than the greed of gain. He was a strong man, not without courage. He would gladly slay a man, whether armed or defenceless, a woman, or even a child in the cause of Allah and the Prophet. But he could not forget that these Christians were rich. His mind’s eye saw a heap of gold in the darkness of every squalid entry. Also the women were fine and plump. His lips were yet dry from the sight of a pretty girl who had smiled up at him in passing. Truly, it would be a pleasant and a holy thing to harry these unbelievers with fire and sword.
XII
“Spoke I not truly, O my master, when I said it was a fine place? The greatest of the city come here each day to hear the news and see what horses are for sale. With thy leave, I will stay with thee. It is not seemly that a man of thy condition should be seen without a servant.”
A lofty and ruinous gateway gave access to a sort of lawn, worn bare of grass in many places. All round, near to the walls of houses, trees threw great blots of shade over a crowd of richly-dressed persons—Turkish officers in high fezes and their best uniforms; grave merchants and notables, robed in finest silk, with close-cropped beards and deep embroidered turbans; one or two men in the official black frock coat and red tarbûsh; and a sprinkling of undoubted Europeans in light suits with queer-shaped hats upon their heads. All these were standing in groups or strolling up and down watching a wild-looking Bedawi and a groom of the town vie with each other in feats of horsemanship.
Selìm drew close to the saddlebow as they entered the enclosure. “Effendi!” he whispered, “it were well for thee to dismount here and let me go forward with the horse. It is easier for the servant to raise the price than for the master. Selìm cannot decide, it is understood, without first consulting thee. Be haughty, O my master, and show thyself hard to please! Selìm will take care to exalt thee in the ears of all who question him concerning the horse. So men shall know that thou art a great one, and shall be ashamed to offer a small sum.”
The advice seeming good to Saïd, he alighted and gave the rope-bridle into the hand of his follower.
“Allah be with thee!” he said. “The saddle and the bridle go into the bargain; I have no more need of them. And forget not to make much of the horse!”
“Have no fear, O my master! Selìm is a subtle man, well skilled in this kind of business. By Allah, though, it is a pity he is not a mare. A stallion may
