|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 47
He sat like a statue, with his left hand raised in salute,[1] until the
Englishwomen had passed; then, throwing his falcon, he watched the
confused bird's flight in search of the quarry which was not there.
"_Cry aloud to Ali the worker of wonders,
From Him thou wilt find help from trouble_."
He quoted the first two lines from the _Ned'i Ali_, the formula used in
the East when trouble threatens a falcon, and, touching the mare,
passed down the Sharia Abbas, whilst the old lady, going in the
opposite direction, came to a sudden decision.
[1]In the East the falcon is carried on the right hand.
CHAPTER XV.
"_When he is best he is little worse than a man;
and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast_."
SHAKESPEARE.
Even as the frail little old lady sat quietly looking out at the coming
of the dawn, Qatim the Ethiopian sat looking with pride round his
transformed hovel in the back reaches of the bazaar. Having gathered
Zulannah from the gutter where she had been thrown after the dogs had
pulled her down, he carried her to his hovel and, believing her to be
dead, flung her body on the heap of filthy straw which served him as
couch, and then stole back--in fact, six times he made the journey--to
the courtesan's great house. He did not argue with himself, he had no
theories and most certainly no moral standards: the woman was dead;
there were certain things, beautiful, gaudy, glittering things in her
house which his heart had always coveted, which had made his fingers to
itch and his mouth to water; brute instinct told him to seize the bones
before the other dogs fell upon them; and he obeyed the brutish impulse.
Hundreds of soft silken gowns; cushions of every hue; the great crimson
cover from off the divan--all of these he made into a huge bundle which
he carried to his den. The gold and jewelled toilet accessories, the
silver basin and ewer, just because they glittered, he tied in a pair
of emerald green satin curtains; various strange knives and things with
prongs, with which on certain occasions the courtesan had conveyed food
to her mouth--she used her fingers in private--with a jewel-encrusted
_nargileh_ of marvellous workmanship, he rolled up in a bright yellow
and green Kidderminster carpet.
On his fifth journey he carried a small Milner safe upon his back,
letting it drop gently upon the hovel floor without the slightest
acceleration in his breathing. For five minutes he played with the
knob, like a huge monkey, then grinned, rubbed his chest and bull-neck
with straw, and padded off again down the circuitous streets at a
gentle trot.
He looked at the sky and at the closed doors and windows of the packed
houses, and grinned again. He could not tell the hour by a clock, but
he knew to a second when the first of the seething mass of humans
asleep on the beds and floors and stairs of the packed houses would
yawn, rub the sleep from their eyes and stumble, shivering, into the
street. He had still his greatest treasure to bring, and had no wish
to be caught with it on his back; not because of the criminality of his
proceedings--that never once entered his thick skull--but because he
was scared of having the mirror reft from him. He was almost devoid of
brain, but had a certain animal instinct which served him in good stead
and which, in this instance, urged him to keep his part in the history
of the past evening to himself. He picked up the full-length mirror as
though it had been a small picture, and stood for an instant grinning
cheerfully, looking round the room in which his mistress had so often
kicked and threatened him.
Then he gave a little click at the back of his throat, placed the
mirror on the floor and stole across the Persian carpet of an unknown
antiquity and value to a painted deal writing desk which had once
reposed in a shop window in Westbourne Grove; and which, on account of
its little drawers and little cupboards with painted doors, had given
intense joy to the woman whose wealth in hard cash in the bank and
jewels in the safe was almost incredible. He lifted the slanting lid,
moved a bundle of papers fastened by an elastic band, and pulled out a
drawer out of which be took a cheque-book.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|