CHAPTER II

CONCERNING A CARPET

Frank Forester was the son of the owner of a large oriental carpet business, whose headquarters was in Constantinople, with branches in several parts of Asia Minor and Persia. Except for his school years in England, Frank had lived all his life in the East. He spoke Turkish like a native, and could make himself understood in Arabic and in the various local dialects in which Turkish, Arabic, and Persian all have component parts.

For some months he had been in charge of the small branch house at Erzerum, where he conducted the business with the aid of Joseph, his Armenian clerk. A few days before the incident just related, a bazar rumour had come to his ears which suggested a promising stroke of business. It was to the effect that an important Kurdish chief, living about two days' journey to the south, had been so heavily squeezed by the Turkish governor of the province that he felt himself forced to raise money by parting with a very valuable old Persian carpet that had long been an heirloom in his family. Tradition said that it was part of the loot obtained by an ancestor of the chief at the sack of Shiraz during one of the civil wars that ravaged Persia in the seventeenth century. It held among his hereditary possessions the same place as a precious jewel or an Old Master among the treasures of a western house. The rumour that it was coming into the market caused as much excitement among carpet dealers as the announcement of the approaching sale of a Correggio or a Rembrandt would cause among the connoisseurs of New York.

Frank Forester was thrown into a flutter when the first whispers reached him. He had not hitherto taken an important part in his father's business, and it was only recently that he had been placed in charge of a branch. The chance of signalizing his stewardship by securing the carpet appealed to his imagination as well as his business instincts. But the problem was, how to bring off a deal with the chief. The old Kurd was not likely to condescend to travel to the town. On the other hand there would be some risk in making a journey to his mountain fastness. The country in which it lay bore the worst of reputations. Even the Turkish authorities never ventured into it without a strong military escort, amounting in fact to an expedition. The peaceful, timid Armenian traders would have ventured into a den of lions as soon as into the hill country where for centuries no Armenian had ever penetrated except as a captive.

Frank's interest in the matter was complicated and heightened by business rivalry. A year or two before, a German named Hermann Wonckhaus had come to Erzerum and set up in business as a carpet dealer next door to Mr. Forester. The Englishman, who had been established there for many years, felt too sure of his position to regard the arrival of his competitor with any alarm. He met him, indeed, in the friendliest spirit, and at first did him some small services in a business and a social way. But it soon became clear that Wonckhaus was a snake in the grass. There were signs that his object in settling next door to Mr. Forester was to keep a watch on him, with a view to discovering with whom he traded and endeavouring to cut into his connection. Once or twice Mr. Forester found himself forestalled in business transactions by the German, and as soon as he became aware of his rival's crooked methods he put himself on his guard and maintained only the coolest of relations with him. Still, he was not greatly troubled. The Armenian, shifty as he may be himself in business, respects rectitude in others, and Mr. Forester knew that if it ever came to a straight pull between himself and the German the result would be in his favour. He lived very simply, without parade; Wonckhaus, on the other hand, kept up a considerable style, and aimed at a kind of leadership in the small European colony. He was a man of good presence, great ability and certain social gifts, by means of which he became a personage; but though he had pushed himself into a position of influence he was always regarded with some distrust by the Europeans other than his own countrymen; and the natives, very shrewd in their silent estimate of western strangers, had taken his measure pretty thoroughly.

Knowing that the bazar rumour would certainly have reached Wonckhaus's ears, Frank was anxious to lose no time in opening negotiations with the Kurdish chief for the purchase of the carpet. It was obvious that his best course was to make a personal visit to the owner. He sent for a Kurd whom his father had sometimes employed and found trustworthy, and enlisted his services as guide to the distant stronghold. Ali confessed that the journey would entail some risk, but he promised that he would do his utmost to ensure the safety of the party, and in fact they had come without adventure within a mile or two of their destination when the appearance of Wonckhaus on the track showed that he had again forestalled his rival. The only question now was, had he managed to strike a bargain with the chief and brought away the carpet among his packs?

When Frank resumed his journey, he discussed the chances rather anxiously with Ali. The Kurd took a pessimistic view.

"Abdi is a nephew of the chief Mirza Aga," he said. "Does he not always boast of his relationship in the bazar? He is a liar by nature, but in that he speaks the truth. Therefore it is that the German has taken him as guide. Without doubt Abdi said to him: 'I am in high favour with my uncle, Allah be good to him, and when I say to him, this is the excellency that will give a good price for the carpet, he will bless me, and perhaps bestow upon me some poor fraction of the money.' Without doubt we have eaten the dust of our journey for nothing."

"Well, we'll go on and prove it. Having come so far I won't go back without knowing the truth."

A march of a little over an hour brought the party to a narrow side track that wound up into the hills. It was some time before a turn in the toilsome ascent opened a view of the chief's stronghold. Perched high up on the mountain side, it resembled in the distance a child's building of wooden bricks; but its massive proportions and structure became impressive as the travellers gradually mounted towards it. In this country of mean hovels its appearance was palatial. The lower part consisted of solid masonry broken by one large gate and two or three small square windows, unglazed and shutterless. Upon this stout pillars supported a number of arches surrounding an open chamber or arcade rectangular in shape and covered with a flat roof. To the left of the arches was a second storey whose walls were as solid as those of the lower; within these, as Frank knew, were the women's apartments. The whole place was silent; to all appearance it might have been uninhabited.

Ali went forward to the great gate and shouted for admittance. After a while a peep-hole was exposed by the sliding of a small wooden hatch, and a man inquired his errand, then slid the hatch to, and departed. Frank had become accustomed to oriental sluggishness and the need for patience. Presently the gate-keeper returned and held a lengthy conversation with Ali, after which he retired again.

"What are we waiting for?" asked Frank: remaining in the background he had not heard the colloquy.

"Wallahy! Mirza Aga will not show the light of his countenance to a German, and required me to swear by the beard of the Prophet that your nobility is not German but English."

"That's promising," said Frank cheerfully. "It looks as if nephew Abdi is not quite such a favourite as he pretends."

"Allah is wise!" said Ali.

In a few minutes the massive gate swung open, giving admission to a large courtyard. Here a handsome youth, the chief's grandson, came forward with a smile of welcome. Frank dismounted, gave his horse into the care of an attendant, and followed the youth up a stately stone staircase, ornamented on either side with richly-carved oak balusters, into the salamlik or presence chamber of the old chief. It was a lofty and spacious apartment, the walls and ceiling composed of curiously carved cedar wood. The floor was covered with thick Persian rugs; the walls were embellished with texts from the Koran, and blunderbusses, scimitars, curved daggers and other weapons arranged in tasteful patterns. At the further end a fire of logs roared in a huge fireplace, the wall above being decorated with arabesques and scrolls.

Near the fireplace, reclining among an exuberance of silk pillows and cushions, was the old, white-bearded, turbaned chief, smoking a long chibouque. At the entrance of his visitor he rose, bowed several times, murmured "Salam aleikam," and clapped his hands. An attendant immediately came in, bearing a number of rugs and pillows which he spread on the floor near the chief. Luxurious as they appeared, Frank knew that they were probably swarming with vermin, for Kurdish magnificence takes no note of such trifles, and he racked his brains for an excuse to avoid the use of them. Explaining that in his country such soft seats were only proper to the ladies, which seemed to amuse the chief, he squatted cross-legged on the floor, and spent some minutes in exchanging the flowery salutations usual in oriental society. Then the chief, who had already learnt the object of his visit from Ali through the gate-keeper, invited him to partake of supper, declaring that there must be no talk of business that night. Without waiting for an acceptance, he clapped his hands again, and servants brought in a profusion of dishes--meat, fish, poultry, and various fruits--a pleasant meal after the long day's journey, even though Frank had to use his fingers instead of a knife and fork. The meal was prolonged; fatigue and the heat of the room made Frank sleepy; and he was glad when the old man's grandson came to conduct him to the guest chamber.

"He has honesty and benevolence written all over him," thought Frank, as he stretched himself, rolled in his greatcoat, on the bare floor, after bundling the doubtful mattresses and cushions provided for him into a corner. "I rather think I may score off Wonckhaus this time after all."

Next morning came the business interview.

"You must know, O welcome guest," said the old man, "that yesterday there came to me one from Erzerum, under the guidance of a graceless nephew of mine, a man in whom there is no truth or virtue at all. The stranger, a man of the German race, they told me, wished to buy my carpet, and offered me a sum that would scarcely have purchased the clothes on my back. Wallahy! Did he wish to pull my beard? I answered him shortly that I was no bazar merchant to haggle and chaffer; whereupon he made excuses, and perceiving that it was truth I said, he offered a price that was fair, and one that I was fain to accept. But lo! when I asked him to pay over the money, the infidel spoke of a written paper, for which, he told me, they would pay me money in Stamboul. Wallahy! His tongue was smooth, but his eye was deceitful. I said forthright that I would not trust him. Little I know of the German race; they are a new kind of Giaour to me; but so much as I have heard of them did not tempt me to part with my carpet against a German promise. Whereupon our words waxed hot, and Abdi my worthless nephew must needs take part with the German--verily he hoped to fill his pouch at my expense; and my wrath was kindled, and I bade the German depart. And Abdi my nephew flouted me to my beard, and I spoke my mind freely to him, a dog that slinks about the houses of better men, snapping up what falls, and licking what is cast out. And they departed, he and the German.

"Now therefore come and look upon the carpet."

He conducted Frank through the open arcade into a lofty room on the other side of the house. On the way Frank throbbed with mingled hope and fear. Orientals were prone to exaggeration: the much-talked-of carpet might turn out to be a very ordinary specimen, even a modern fabric cunningly "faked," for he was aware of the tricks practised by dishonest dealers to delude the unwary. Once, indeed, he had himself detected by the sense of smell the use of coffee to give a new rug the mellow tones of age. But hope was stronger within him than fear. The old chief looked honest: he had refrained from boasts and the flowery puffs of the huckster, and Frank felt that the carpet was probably genuine, though possibly not quite so valuable as rumour declared.

The old man opened the door, and stood back with a courteous inclination of the head to allow his visitor to pass in before him. He did not speak a word. Frank halted in the doorway, transfixed with wonder and delight. Hanging on the wall opposite was a beautiful rug, about eighteen feet by twelve, in which his expert eye discerned at once an antique product of the looms of Khorassan. He had lived among carpets from childhood, and knew the characteristic features of all the many kinds of eastern fabrics. On a deep blue ground were woven floral patterns in magenta, red, and blue, with spots of ivory here and there; and on the wide border was the unmistakeable palm-leaf design of Khorassan, with details that proved it to be the workmanship of a particular family of weavers, renowned for its artistic ornament and harmonious colouring. Age had mellowed the tints, but their brilliance was little diminished, for the ancient dyers had secrets which are the despair of the chemists of to-day.

He crossed the room and touched the surface of the rug. It was soft as velvet. He examined the knots and the stitches, felt the thickness of the pile, then turned round.

"It is magnificent, chief," he said.

"It is good work, effendim," replied the chief. "My family has possessed it for two hundred years."

"Well now, let me tell you my method of business. We are not hucksters of the bazar, you and I. Their custom is to ask more than they expect to get, or to offer less than they are prepared to pay. That is not my way. I offer at once the sum which I am ready to give, and I never make a second offer. If it is acceptable, well and good; if not, we part friends."

"That is well, effendim. My ears are open."

"I will pay you L500 Turkish for the carpet."

The old Kurd reflected a moment or two. Then he said:

"That is a fair price, effendim. The carpet is yours."

"Thank you. I have not brought the money with me; it is dangerous country, chief," he added with a smile. "But I will either send it you when I return to Erzerum, or----"

"It is enough, effendim," interrupted the chief. "You are an Englishman: your word is good. Your countrymen, it is true, are not the good friends of mine that they used to be. It is told me, indeed, that the German Emperor, and not your King, is willing to help us to regain the lands we lost in the late disastrous war. But I trust the word of an Englishman. The Germans I do not know: that one who came to me came with my nephew Abdi, the master of lies! Take the carpet: it is yours. You may send the money when you will."

"I thank you for your confidence, chief; but such an arrangement would not be fair to you. Something might happen to me; you would have no security. I will ask you to take a draft on the Ottoman Bank."

He took out his cheque-book and fountain pen, and wrote the draft, which the chief accepted with a deprecating bow. Orders were given for the carpet to be rolled up, covered with sacking, and placed on the back of one of the mules. The business having been thus satisfactorily concluded, the chief invited Frank to share his morning meal, after which he accompanied him with a small escort of horsemen for a few miles on his return journey.