Chapter 11

"'M. Duveyrier,' continued Mocquard, 'was able to arrange to have a delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present their respects to His Majesty. Very important results may arise from this visit, and His Excellency the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining the signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special advantages to our fellow countrymen. These chiefs, five of them, among them Sheik Otham, _Amenokol_ or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow morning at the _Gare de Lyon_. M. Duveyrier will meet them. But the Emperor has thought that besides....'

"'I thought,' said Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, 'I thought that it was correct to have some one of the Gentlemen of my Chamber wait upon the arrival of these Mussulman dignitaries. That is why you are here, my poor Bielowsky. Don't be frightened,' he added, laughing harder. 'You will have M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged only with the special part of the reception: to accompany these princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow at the Tuileries; then, in the evening, discreetly on account of their religious scruples, to succeed in giving them a very high idea of Parisian civilization, with nothing exaggerated: do not forget that in the Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries. In that respect, I have confidence in your tact and give you _carte blanche_.... Mocquard!'

"'Sire?'

"'You will apportion on the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to the Colonies, the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception of the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that a hundred thousand francs, to begin.... The Count has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed that figure.'

"Clémentine lived on the Rue Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion that I had bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her in bed. When she saw me, she burst into tears.

"'Great fools that we are!' she murmured amidst her sobs, 'what have we done!'

"'Clémentine, tell me!'

"'What have we done, what have we done!' she repeated, and I felt against me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which was fragrant with _eau de Nanon_.

"'What is it? What can it be?'

"'It is....' and she murmured something in my ear.

"'No!' I said, stupefied. 'Are you quite sure?'

"'Am I quite sure!'

"I was thunderstruck.

"'You don't seem much pleased,' she said sharply.

"'I did not say that.... Though, really, I am very much pleased, I assure you.'

"'Prove it to me: let us spend the day together tomorrow.'

"'To-morrow!' I stammered. 'Impossible!'

"'Why?' she demanded suspiciously.

"'Because to-morrow, I have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris. The Emperor's orders.'

"'What bluff is this?' asked Clémentine.

"'I admit that nothing so much resembles a lie as the truth.'

"I retold Mocquard's story to Clémentine, as well as I could. She listened to me with an expression that said: 'you can't fool me that way.'

"Finally, furious, I burst out:

"'You can see for yourself. I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I invite you.'

"'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Clémentine with great dignity.

"I admit that I lacked self-control at that minute. But think what a day it had been! Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up. The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all the next day. And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement of an approaching irregular paternity....

"'After all,' I thought, as I returned to my house, 'these are the Emperor's orders. He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of Parisian civilization. Clémentine comports herself very well in society and just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will engage a room for to-morrow at the _Café de Paris_, and tell Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses. It will be very French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the midst of this little party.'

"The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the train. He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil knows where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their amulets of red leather. Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of _sabir_[13] which helped things along.

[Footnote 13: Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant--a mixture of Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.]

"I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in the evening to the Museum, to the _Hotel de Ville_, to the Imperial Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the registry of the place they were visiting. It was interminable. To give you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone: Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya- ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.[14]

[Footnote 14: I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)]

"And there were five of them like that!

"I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, everywhere, our success was colossal. At the _Café de Paris_, at six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation, a little drunk, embraced me: '_Bono, Napoléon, bono, Eugénie; bono, Casimir; bono, Christians_.' Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the _Folies Dramatiques_, and Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the heart. But the palm was for my dear Clémentine, when she entered. I must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of white tulle, over China blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the pleatings. The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus it formed a valence which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides. The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends. The pointed bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged with lace. By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a diadem crown of the same flowers. Two long leafy tendrils were twined in her hair and fell on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin.

"So much beauty and splendor immediately moved the Tuareg and, especially, Clémentine's right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemâma, brother of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time the soup arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned with Tokay, he was already much smitten. When they served the compote of fruits Martinique _à la liqueur de Mme. Amphoux_, he showed every indication of illimitable passion. The Cyprian wine _de la Commanderie_ made him quite sure of his sentiments. Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont, intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and aroused the indignant protests of one of the Tuareg. I can safely say that when the time came to go to Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner in which our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the Prophet in respect to wine.

"At Mabille, while Clémentine, Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three Tuareg gave themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham took me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion, a certain commission with which he had just been charged by his brother, Sheik Ahmed.

"The next day, very early, I reached Clémentine's house.

"'My dear,' I began, after having waked her, not without difficulty, 'listen to me. I want to talk to you seriously.'

"She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly.

"'How did you like that young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with you last night?'

"'Why, well enough,' she said, blushing.

"'Do you know that in his country, he is the sovereign prince and reigns over territories five or six times greater than those of our august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?'

"'He murmured something of that kind to me,' she said, becoming interested.

"'Well, would it please you to mount on a throne, like our august sovereign, the Empress Eugénie?'

"Clémentine, looked startled.

"'His own brother, Sheik Otham, has charged me in his name to make this offer.'

"Clémentine, dumb with amazement, did not reply.

"'I, Empress!' she finally stammered.

"'The decision rests with you. They must have your answer before midday. If it is 'yes,' we lunch together at Voisin's, and the bargain is made.'

"I saw that she had already made up her mind, but she thought it well to display a little sentiment.

"'And you, you!' she groaned. 'To leave you thus.... Never!'

"'No foolishness, dear child,' I said gently. 'You don't know perhaps that I am ruined. Yes, completely: I don't even know how I am going to pay for your complexion cream!'

"'Ah!' she sighed.

"She added, however, 'And ... the child?'

"'What child?'

"'Our child ... our child.'

"'Ah! That is so. Why, you will have to put it down to profit and loss. I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that it resembles him.'

"'You can turn everything into a joke,' she said between laughing and crying.

"The next morning, at the same hour, the Marseilles express carried away the five Tuareg and Clémentine. The young woman, radiant, was leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside himself with joy.

"'Have you many shops in your capital?' she asked him languidly.

"And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied:

"'_Besef, besef, bono, roumis, bono_.'

"At the last moment, Clémentine had a pang of emotion.

"'Listen, Casimir, you have always been kind to me. I am going to be a queen. If you weary of it here, promise me, swear to me....'

"The Sheik had understood. He took a ring from his finger and slipped it onto mine.

"'Sidi Casimir, comrade,' he affirmed. 'You come--find us. Take Sidi Ahmed's ring and show it. Everybody at Ahaggar comrades. _Bono_ Ahaggar, _bono_.'

"When I came out of the _Gare de Lyon_, I had the feeling of having perpetrated an excellent joke."

The Hetman of Jitomir was completely drunk. I had had the utmost difficulty in understanding the end of his story, because he interjected, every other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach's best score.

_Dans un bois passait un jeune homme, Un jeune homme frais et beau, Sa main tenait une pomme, Vous voyez d'ici le tableau_.

"Who was disagreeably surprised by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, poor old Casimir! Five thousand _louis_ to pay by the fifth of September, and not the first sou, no, not the first sou. I take my hat and my courage and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there, no! But the Empress was so kind. I found her alone--ah, people scatter quickly under such circumstances!--alone, with a senator, M. Mérimée, the only literary man I have ever known who was at the same time a man of the world. 'Madame,' he was saying to her, 'you must give up all hope. M. Thiers, whom I just met on the _Pont Royal_, would listen to nothing.'

"'Madame,' I said in my turn, 'Your Majesty always will know where her true friends are.'

"And I kissed her hand.

"_Evohé, que les déesses Out de drôles de façons Pour enjôler, pour enjôler, pour enjôler les gaâarçons_!

"I returned to my home in the Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered the rabble going from the _Corps Législatif_ to the Hotel de Ville. My mind was made up.

"'Madame,' I said to my wife, 'my pistols.'

"'What is the matter?' she asked, frightened.

"'All is lost. But there is still a chance to preserve my honor. I am going to be killed on the barricades.'

"'Ah! Casimir,' she sobbed, falling into my arms. 'I have misjudged you. Will you forgive me?'

"'I forgive you, Aurelie,' I said with dignified emotion. 'I have not always been right myself.'

"I tore myself away from this mad scene. It was six o'clock. On the Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career.

"'Twenty francs tip,' I said to the coachman, 'if you get to the _Gare de Lyon_ in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.'"

The Hetman of Jitomir could say no more. He had rolled over on the cushions and slept with clenched fists.

I walked unsteadily to the great window.

The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp blue mountains.

XIV

HOURS OF WAITING

It was at night that Saint-Avit liked to tell me a little of his enthralling history. He gave it to me in short installments, exact and chronological, never anticipating the episodes of a drama whose tragic outcome I knew already. Not that he wished to obtain more effect that way--I felt that he was far removed from any calculation of that sort! Simply from the extraordinary nervousness into which he was thrown by recalling such memories.

One evening, the mail from France had just arrived. The letters that Chatelain had handed us lay upon the little table, not yet opened. By the light of the lamp, a pale halo in the midst of the great black desert, we were able to recognize the writing of the addresses. Oh! the victorious smile of Saint-Avit when, pushing aside all those letters, I said to him in a trembling voice:

"Go on."

He acquiesced without further words.

"Nothing can give you any idea of the fever I was in from the day when the Hetman of Jitomir told me of his adventures to the day when I found myself in the presence of Antinea. The strangest part was that the thought that I was, in a way, condemned to death, did not enter into this fever. On the contrary, it was stimulated by my desire for the event which would be the signal of my downfall, the summons from Antinea. But this summons was not speedy in coming. And from this delay, arose my unhealthy exasperation.

"Did I have any lucid moments in the course of these hours? I do not think so. I do not recall having even said to myself, 'What, aren't you ashamed? Captive in an unheard of situation, you not only are not trying to escape, but you even bless your servitude and look forward to your ruin.' I did not even color my desire to remain there, to enjoy the next step in the adventure, by the pretext I might have given--unwillingness to escape without Morhange. If I felt a vague uneasiness at not seeing him again, it was not because of a desire to know that he was well and safe.

"Well and safe, I knew him to be, moreover. The Tuareg slaves of Antinea's household were certainly not very communicative. The women were hardly more loquacious. I heard, it is true, from Sydya and Aguida, that my companion liked pomegranates or that he could not endure _kouskous_ of bananas. But if I asked for a different kind of information, they fled, in fright, down the long corridors. With Tanit-Zerga, it was different. This child seemed to have a distaste for mentioning before me anything bearing in any way upon Antinea. Nevertheless, I knew that she was devoted to her mistress with a doglike fidelity. But she maintained an obstinate silence if I pronounced her name or, persisting, the name of Morhange.

"As for the Europeans, I did not care to question these sinister puppets. Besides, all three were difficult of approach. The Hetman of Jitomir was sinking deeper and deeper into alcohol. What intelligence remained to him, he seemed to have dissolved the evening when he had invoked his youth for me. I met him from time to time in the corridors that had become all at once too narrow for him, humming in a thick voice a couplet from the music of _La Reine Hortense_.

_De ma fille Isabelle Sois l'époux à l'instant, Car elle est la plus belle Et toi, le plus vaillant_.

"As for Pastor Spardek, I would cheerfully have killed the old skinflint. And the hideous little man with the decorations, the placid printer of labels for the red marble hall,--how could I meet him without wanting to cry out in his face: 'Eh! eh! Sir Professor, a very curious case of apocope: [Greek: Atlantinea]. Suppression of _alpha_, of _tau_ and of _lambda_! I would like to direct your attention to another case as curious: [Greek: klêmêntinea], Clémentine. Apocope of _kappa_, of _lamba_, of _epsilon_ and of _mu_. If Morhange were with us, he would tell you many charming erudite things about it. But, alas! Morhange does not deign to come among us any more. We never see Morhange.'

"My fever for information found a little more favorable reception from Rosita, the old Negress manicure. Never have I had my nails polished so often as during those days of waiting! Now--after six years--she must be dead. I shall not wrong her memory by recording that she was very partial to the bottle. The poor old soul was defenseless against those that I brought her and that I emptied with her, through politeness.

"Unlike the other slaves, who are brought from the South toward Turkey by the merchants of Rhât, she was born in Constantinople and had been brought into Africa by her master when he became _kaïmakam_ of Rhadamès.... But don't let me complicate this already wandering history by the incantations of this manicure.

"'Antinea,' she said to me, 'is the daughter of El-Hadj-Ahmed-ben-Guemâma, Sultan of Ahaggar, and Sheik of the great and noble tribe of Kel-Rhelâ. She was born in the year twelve hundred and eighty-one of the Hegira. She has never wished to marry any one. Her wish has been respected for the will of women is sovereign in this Ahaggar where she rules to-day. She is a cousin of Sidi-el-Senoussi, and, if she speaks the word, Christian blood will flow from Djerid to Touat, and from Tchad to Senegal. If she had wished it, she might have lived beautiful and respected in the land of the Christians. But she prefers to have them come to her.'

"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh,' I said, 'do you know him? He is entirely devoted to her?'

"'Nobody here knows Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh very well, because he is continually traveling. It is true that he is entirely devoted to Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is a Senoussi, and Antinea is the cousin of the chief of the Senoussi. Besides, he owes his life to her. He is one of the men who assassinated the great Kébir Flatters. On account of that, Ikenoukhen, _amenokol_ of the Adzjer Tuareg, fearing French reprisals, wanted to deliver Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh to them. When the whole Sahara turned against him, he found asylum with Antinea. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh will never forget it, for he is brave and observes the law of the Prophet. To thank her, he led to Antinea, who was then twenty years old, three French officers of the first troops of occupation in Tunis. They are the ones who are numbered, in the red marble hall, 1, 2, and 3.'

"'And Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has always fulfilled his duties successfully?'

"'Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh is well trained, and he knows the vast Sahara as I know my little room at the top of the mountain. At first, he made mistakes. That is how, on his first trips, he brought back old Le Mesge and marabout Spardek.'

"'What did Antinea say when she saw them?'

"'Antinea? She laughed so hard that she spared them. Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh was vexed to see her laugh so. Since then, he has never made a mistake.'

"'He has never made a mistake?'

"'No. I have cared for the hands and feet of all that he has brought here. All were young and handsome. But I think that your comrade, whom they brought to me the other day, after you were here, is the handsomest of all.'

"'Why,' I asked, turning the conversation, 'why, since she spared them their lives, did she not free the pastor and M. Le Mesge?'

"'She has found them useful, it seems,' said the old woman. 'And then, whoever once enters here, can never leave. Otherwise, the French would soon be here and, when they saw the hall of red marble, they would massacre everybody. Besides, of all those whom Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has brought here, no one, save one, has wished to escape after seeing Antinea.'

"'She keeps them a long time?'

"'That depends upon them and the pleasure that she takes in them. Two months, three months, on the average. It depends. A big Belgian officer, formed like a colossus, didn't last a week. On the other hand, everyone here remembers little Douglas Kaine, an English officer: she kept him almost a year.'

"'And then?'

"'And then, he died,' said the old woman as if astonished at my question.

"'Of what did he die?'

"She used the same phrase as M. Le Mesge:

"'Like all the others: of love.

"'Of love,' she continued. "They all die of love when they see that their time is ended, and that Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has gone to find others. Several have died quietly with tears in their great eyes. They neither ate nor slept any more. A French naval officer went mad. All night, he sang a sad song of his native country, a song which echoed through the whole mountain. Another, a Spaniard, was as if maddened: he tried to bite. It was necessary to kill him. Many have died of _kif_, a _kif_ that is more violent than opium. When they no longer have Antinea, they smoke, smoke. Most have died that way ... the happiest. Little Kaine died differently.'

"'How did little Kaine die?'

"'In a way that pained us all very much. I told you that he stayed longer among us than anyone else. We had become used to him. In Antinea's room, on a little Kairouan table, painted in blue and gold, there is a gong with a long silver hammer with an ebony handle, very heavy. Aguida told me about it. When Antinea gave little Kaine his dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the time. They led little Kaine to his room. The same night, eluding guards, he jumped out of his window at a height of two hundred feet. The workmen in the embalming room told me that they had the greatest difficulty with his body. But they succeeded very well. You have only to go see for yourself. He occupies niche number 26 in the red marble hall.'

"The old woman drowned her emotion in her glass.

"'Two days before,' she continued, 'I had done his nails, here, for this was his room. On the wall, near the window, he had written something in the stone with his knife. See, it is still here.'

"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'

"At any other moment, that verse, traced in the stone of the window through which the English officer had hurled himself, would have killed me with overpowering emotion. But just then, another thought was in my heart.

"'Tell me,' I said, controlling my voice as well as I could, 'when Antinea holds one of us in her power, she shuts him up near her, does she not? Nobody sees him any more?'

The old woman shook her head.

"'She is not afraid that he will escape. The mountain is well guarded. Antinea has only to strike her silver gong; he will be brought back to her immediately.'

"'But my companion. I have not see him since she sent for him....'

"The Negress smiled comprehendingly.

"'If you have not seen him, it is because he prefers to remain near her. Antinea does not force him to. Neither does she prevent him.'

"I struck my fist violently upon the table.

"'Get along with you, old fool. And be quick about it!'

"Rosita fled frightened, hardly taking time to collect her little instruments.

"'Was it not Fate, that on this July midnight....'

"I obeyed the Negress's suggestion. Following the corridors, losing my way, set on the right road again by the Reverend Spardek, I pushed open the door of the red marble hall. I entered.