Part 11

It was that hour of the day when the lengthened shadows indicate the descent of the glowing orb, but the striking absence of bird or insect in a quarter where every inducement for their presence was to be seen in abundance gave the surroundings an air of desolation, and produced the sensation experienced by him who suddenly lights on a corpse. A broad avenue shaded by treble lines of orange trees in blossom, diffusing delicious odors, led up to a high portal giving admission to a vast enclosure walled by gray stones perfectly fitted by masterful hands, a fortress looking as new as though the masons had just given it the finishing touch. The wall was not high enough to hide the gorgeous edifices within; but the wayfarers pricked their ears in vain to catch a sound of life, the quiet being that of the graveyard. "This is a dead city," observed the guide, in the hope of shaking the courage of Cordosa; "peradventure the desolate city built by the son of Ad."

"They are not dead at night who are dead during the day," added the _Karawan-Bashi_, with a similar object in view.

"God is strong enough to afford us protection against all evil powers. Here may be a mystery we are destined to solve. Knock at the gate for admission," ordered Cordosa peremptorily.

"_Allah illaha il Allah!_" cried the _Bashi_, seized with a fit of unflinching heroism; "I will knock at the gate with my scabbard, be the place under the rule of grim Monkir; the faithful need not be afraid of the creatures of Eblis."

The rap on the gate gave forth a hollow sound in response, yet the gateway opened with a jar, revealing a scene at which the intruders gazed with amazement. Sheddad's garden of Irem could hardly equal the vernal luxuriance which hid the foundations of the wonderful buildings. Scattered here and there, among delightful flower-beds and thick clusters of the luscious vine, stood groups of fairies motionless, so handsome that their cheeks rivaled the rose in sweetness. They were all barefooted, their little feet resembling those of children. For headgear they wore crowns of golden hair; their garb was a transparent gauze, shining like moonlight, and bespangled with gold, and they were all armed with spears of that precious metal. Awful was their silence, their expression yet showing an intense anxiety to utter speech. The gate slammed to with its jarring note as soon as the last camel was within the precincts, and the Yemenites shuddered at the realization of their being locked in a dead city. Overcome by the awe of the surroundings, Cordosa exclaimed: "Great Lord, protect us!" Hereupon the whole mountain experienced a tremor, shared by the life-like fairies, who appeared to shiver at the mention of the Supreme.

It being sunset, Cordosa directed the _Bashi_ and the guide to take the caravan to the nearest khan, and the next moment the travellers entered a caravansary, compared to which the Asaad Pasha of Damascus is but an insignificant hostelry. They found the gate ajar, and within there was plenty of provender, and a playing fountain to quench the thirst of man and brute. A sumptuous divan furnished with the most costly rugs of silk, and such seats as are only reserved for caliphs, tempted the Arabs to rest their weary limbs, while the odors of savory viands betrayed the neighborhood of a culinary institution of the highest order. Following the scent they entered a prodigious banquet hall of imperial splendor. On low tables a royal feast was set in glittering crystal under covers of gold. On the right side of each service lay a golden rod not unlike the sceptre of a king. Scores of fairies stood around in the attitude of attendants eager to serve, but stiff and lifeless as mummies, dead beauty radiating from their faces of immaculate purity.

Hunger yielded to temptation, and the _Bashi's_ example was followed by the others, except Cordosa who, lost in wonder, would not avail himself of the magnificent hospitality impliedly offered by beings who to all appearances were dead; if not dead then strangely enchanted for some unaccountable purpose.

Neither had the others time to appease the cravings of their appetites; for no sooner was the first dish uncovered than a multitudinous rustling, tripping and squeaking caused the astonished guests to turn their eyes toward the door, when lo, and behold!--thick swarms of silvery mice came rushing and tumbling one over the other, and, flying up the limbs of the horrified men, as squirrels are often seen to run up trees, they devoured in the twinkling of an eye whatever had been laid bare to their voracity. The sumptuous banquet was turned into a scene of horror and disgust, the more so since the pests seemed heedless of those who were present, and callous to the blows which were dealt them with the golden rods that were apparently there for that purpose. "Bring the cats hither," commanded Cordosa. And as the cage was brought forth and opened the cats leapt forth like tigers wild for prey. But nimble as pussy is, the agility of her game left her without a chance to do mischief. Quick as the vermin had appeared, they much more quickly disappeared, as though the swarms had been nothing but flitting shadows.

Before it was possible to restore the animals to their cage, Cordosa and his subordinates were not only startled by the sudden animation of the fairies in the banquet hall, but a muffled roar, as of a victorious army without, made them feel instinctively that a great change had come over the dwellers of the magic city. It was a tumult that stirred the air far and wide, was echoed and re-echoed, until the hills were vocal with the ringing vibrations of countless voices, and before a question could be asked, in marched a legion of those admirable creatures, who but a little before had been seen in a state of inanimation. Arraying themselves in military form, they presented arms and made a profound salaam in evident honor of Cordosa, thus acknowledging his title to their respect. With that unfailing politeness, which is the exquisite quality of the refined Oriental, the Hebrew begged to be informed why he was made the object of this distinguished attention. "Because thou hast broken the spell which for many hundred years held the denizens of this city enthralled by enchantment," was the answer.

There was a genial affability in the demeanor of the child-like representatives of the city's population, so that the fear of their being malicious genii vanished, and a confiding intercourse took the place of shrinking suspicion. The story they told of their origin and subsequent enchantment is one of romance, necromancy, and dire vengeance. It is briefly as follows:

Lilithiana, the Peri-Queen of the mountains of Yemen, had, in ages gone by, been wooed by the then two mighty magicians of Africa, known as El Akbor and Metemhagi. El Akbor was dreaded as the master of all the rodent species, which he had often sent on expeditions of destruction to avenge wrongs or to satisfy malice. There was no escape from the instruments of his ire. Persons and property were bitten, torn, and destroyed according to his order. The only power he feared was Metemhagi, who ruled all the feline tribes, and could be appealed to against the plague his rival was in a position to inflict. Long and assiduous was the courtship of the twain necromancers, and the love-contest closed with Lilithiana's declared preference for Metemhagi.

The Peri-Queen controlled the untold wealth hidden in the mountains of her domain, was mistress of all the genii within the bounds of her empire, and concluded to build an enchanted city accessible to none but her progeny. A host of her aerial subjects received orders to carry out their Queen's behest, and the city of marble, silver and gold was the result of one hour's workmanship. Hither the queenly Peri retired with her mortal adorer, and an impenetrable zone of cloud was thrown around the region that had the weird city as its centre.

Lilithiana was not long to enjoy her marital felicity. Her intimacy with a mortal deprived her of the power over Yemen's genii; and the angel, who centuries before had expelled her from Paradise for a slight trespass, descended to inform her that her sin would be visited on her guiltless offspring, her own punishment being exile and separation from her dear ones. Aware of the Peri's fall and disgrace, El Akbor assumed the deterring form of a monstrous rat and, embracing his opportunity, threw himself among the genii of Lilithiana's realm during a dance in the moonlight. The shock transformed them into a swarm of silvery mice, and the magician having thus gained power over them, uttered another incantation, causing the whilom airy beings to raven with an insatiate hunger. This gluttony made them the terror of Lilithiana's descendants, who were doomed hereafter to live only from sunset to sunrise, held by witch-craft the rest of the time in a death-like trance.

Metemhagi's devotion to his fairest of consorts made it impossible for him to part with her whose tender passion for him had caused her fall and banishment, and his absence enabled the diabolical Akbor to accomplish his purpose. Informed of the outrage, Metemhagi hurried to the spot as fast as the fleetest tiger could carry him, but found that the spell was to last until, prompted by a higher power, the intrusion of man with that feline species of whom the rodents are in terror should break the magic thrall, and restore matters to their original condition. This having happened, the disenchantment of the enthralled inhabitants of the superb city was followed by that of the genii who had been changed to mice. Lilithiana's return to majesty came next. Widowed and humiliated, she had hovered for centuries on the borders of her beloved empire till Cordosa's arrival in her city changed the aspect of things, and she was the Peri-Queen once more.

Hitherto the nocturnal revelers could not indulge their feast without beating off the pestilent vermin with one hand while eating with the other; it was the first time that the banquet was being enjoyed in daylight, and without the use of the erstwhile indispensable weapon. The viands served appeared as inexhaustible as the multitudes who entered the dining hall to pay their respects to Cordosa, regale themselves, and file off again. Nor was music wanting to enliven conviviality. The charming attendants ravished the souls of the throng with song so sweet that the strangers had difficulty to prevent their eyelids from closing, lulled into obliviousness by the dulcet melody. At last Cordosa alone remained awake; the rest had succumbed to the irresistible charm of the bewitching voices. The honors showered on Cordosa were worthy of a great deliverer. In a palanquin of the most precious metal, studded with brilliant jewels, seated on cushions softer than air, he was carried through the festively decked boulevards and paradisial gardens, among dazzling palaces and amid the joyous ovations of jubilant crowds.

And as soon as the sun had withdrawn his last mellow beam from the crests of the mountains, unearthly splendors burst over the magic city. The spectacle was one of ghostly awe and august magnificence. A splendid illumination shed a flood of light on towering edifices and their resplendent decorations. In a second, grand triumphal arches spanned every highway, woven of the Orient's most exuberant foliage, flowers and blossoms, each one strewed thickly with the delicate petals of all the roses in creation, and the delighted denizens were transfigured in the reflex of the weird effulgence. Expectation sat visible on every face, and the reason became manifest when the faint vibration of a dreamy music came floating on the balmy breeze from the lower end of the main boulevard. The disenchanted genii celebrated their deliverance, and prepared to welcome their Peri-Queen, whose time had come to return from her banishment to rule, surrounded by those whose image kept her lover's memory green. The event was to be commemorated by a transcendent jubilee.

The Queen's cavalry opened the triumphal entry with a division of diminutive and luminous horsemen, armed with golden spears, mounted on tiny zebras not larger than kittens, and blowing trumpets not unlike the calyx of the white lily. In an instant their files flew up the first triumphal arch, with no more effort than a bird makes when he hops from one twig to another. From their lofty position they watched the advance of the Queen's artillery, a glittering train of golden cannon, mortars and howitzers, on silver carriages, pulled by little white elephants whose drivers in lustrous uniform swelled the chorus by bugles which varied the harmony with great effect. An inclined span thrown by the vanguard to the top of an arch served as a road to an elevated platform, where the ordnance was put in position, loaded and pointed in every direction of the compass. Beneath came the body of the great army, battalion on battalion, ascending and occupying in succession arch after arch, until the vernal displays bristled and blazed with the gorgeousness of the shining host. A translucent haze like a veil of atomized jewels floated in the atmosphere, reflecting the hues of the rainbow; and a thousand bands accompanied a chorus as numerous as the voices of the entire army and population.

Cordosa's tears flowed freely; the symphony proved too much for his heart. The pageant around him looked like a dream of blessed childhood. He had neither time to feel nor to think. The chorus sang the prelude to the entrance of the Peri-Queen. Wrapped in a cloud as intensely bright, as though the moon's light had been concentrated within a radius of a few leagues, Lilithiana entered the gate of her own city. Jubilant hurrahs greeted her and reverberated a thousandfold throughout the hills. As the queenly train drew nearer, Cordosa discerned in the heart of the mass of light a gliding chariot drawn by twelve fiery steeds as white as the blaze around them. In reclining ease Lilithiana rested on pillows of gossamer apparently filled out with light. Her golden hair hung like a beam of mild sunshine, leaving a countenance free, which with its star-like eyes left no hope for mortal beauty to equal it. Of lesser witchery yet unmatched by flesh however fair were her nine attending nymphs, who in another equipage rode behind their mistress, each one holding a bag full of precious coin. The glorious pageant closed with a division of brilliantly mounted guards on stags with golden hoofs and antlers.

What was the sensation of Cordosa on perceiving that the Peri-Queen had her eyes riveted upon him. Before the spot he occupied her chariot stopped. Without alighting from her royal seat, Lilithiana spoke thus to the astonished man:

"Not so much to thee, O, Cordosa, do we owe our restoration, and our children their disenchantment, as to the righteous Ben Abir whose faith and reverence frustrated the designs of the evil one. Temptation lured him in vain, and trials failed to weaken his trust in Eternal Justice. Yet hast thou done thy share to deepen his misery. Why knows he not where his daughter hides? Art thou not afraid of retribution? Lead his child to his heart. And behold!--these nine bags of gold are destined for him. Take them hence and deliver them untouched as his meed for virtues rare among men. His cause is in higher hands; they who injured him will suffer."

The air was rent with cries of applause, and the triumphal chariot proceeded onward. Filing down from the arches, the army stood in marching order, and followed in grand parade. The discharge of artillery shook the air; the musicians played, and the pageant moved on and out of sight, except the column of moonlight, which faded slowly in the hazy distance. The palatial buildings burst out with radiance from within, and the happy crowds abandoned themselves to feasting and dancing.

Cordosa's first business now was to load the dromedaries with the treasure intended for Ben Abir. At the khan he found it almost impossible to awaken his men. When the _Karawan-Bashi_ finally opened his eyes, he looked stupid as an ox and talked as if he had lost his senses. The guide was similarly affected. The Arabs seemed deaf and dumb, and Cordosa felt alarmed at their state of torpitude. When all his efforts to raise them failed, he bethought himself of the fountain and grasped a vessel with the intention of throwing cold water on the dull company. But the fountain was gone. Cordosa turned toward the door of the superb Divan, where they had spent hours on the previous day; there was neither a hall nor a door to be seen, and a sudden dimness had made all things uncertain. Still more disturbed by the startling situation, Cordosa tried to grope his way into the room of whose nearness he was sure, but, instead of striking one of the cushioned seats, he struck his head against the bark of a tree. Awaiting once more some unexpected change he strained his eyes to discern some object; and failing in the effort, knelt down to ascertain the nature of the ground he was on. Cold sand, gravel, and wet grass apprised him of surroundings other than those he had supposed to be about him. While fear was gaining on him, a passing wind raised the fog, and his astonished eye was sweeping in vain in search for the enchanted--or disenchanted--city.

The sun was just throwing out his multicolored couriers to inform continents of his coming. A further effort to awaken his men proved successful, and Cordosa's next care was to discover whether the cats were in their cage, and whether the gold bags made a part of what he doubted not was a dream's phantom. His consternation was great when he found the cage empty, and counted nine bags full to overflowing of the precious metal. Calling on the _Karawan-Bashi_ and the guide, he thought it was time to proceed homeward. "We have dreamed long enough," said he for a purpose.

"Yes, master, there must be some tricksy _Div_ hereabout; I have a jumble in my head. I could swear by Allah that we have been in a grand city and have witnessed queer things," said the _Bashi_, with a yawn.

"By the beard of the Prophet, _Bashi_, the demon has blown something of that sort into my own brain," asserted the guide. The others said nothing. The caravan pursued its way, and Cordosa had his eyes on the camels that bore the enormous treasure. Sanaa was reached in safety. None of the men noticed the disappearance of the cats.

Immediately after his arrival Cordosa dispatched two trusty persons to his country retreat, and they returned with a third in a disguise which rendered identification impossible. He then sent for Ben Abir and insisted on being informed as to how he had come into possession of the mysterious coin that he had given him to invest. Filled with unutterable wonder at what he heard, Cordosa emptied one bag of gold after the other, asking each time whether the pile he had refrained from touching on the specified Friday eve had been as large as the one before him. Not before the contents of the ninth bag had been added to the heap, did Ben Abir exclaim, "So large, and not larger."

"Then take all this, and be once more the Croesus of Yemen, O, righteous Ben Abir!" cried Cordosa, and supplemented his words by the tale of the phantom city. It was Ben Abir's turn to be overwhelmed by astonishment. "And now has thy time come to be perfectly happy," added Cordosa, knowing the contrary to be the case.

"Alas, Ben Abir's happiness will never, never return!--My daughter,--my daughter!" lamented the disconsolate father.

"Even thy daughter returns with thy fortune," said Cordosa, and disappeared through the door, which led to his private apartments. Another minute and the lost Estrelia lay sobbing in her father's arms. Ben Abir was a happy man, but the other felt that he owed his friend an explanation, which was substantially as follows.

When the jealous Ayesha had learned of the Imam's intention to glorify his harem by the incomparable loveliness of Ben Abir's daughter, she lost no time in warning Cordosa of the maiden's danger. Knowing that his recreant son was at the bottom of the infamous scheme, he felt himself called upon to frustrate it. But once in possession of the girl, whose charms had lost him his son, Cordosa hoped against hope to effect a change in her feelings toward the desperate Menahem. The plan did not work. Estrelia detested the youth who had worshipped her, but was told that her safety required her removal to a hiding place. Cordosa was maturing a new plan when the supernatural incidents of his last journey left him no choice. The Peri-Queen must be obeyed, lest misfortune betide his house.

Cordosa asked Abir's forgiveness, pointing to the great anguish of heart the love affair had caused him. The Croesus of Yemen, recognizing the higher hand that fashioned his destiny, would not have his friend refer to it hereafter. "I would to God I could heal thy wound, O, kind-hearted Cordosa. My gratitude and sympathy are thine, and if a part of this hoard will give thee ease, be it thine also," replied Ben Abir.

But Cordosa would not entertain the thought of being rewarded for services he had rendered accidentally, while Lilithiana's warning not to touch the gold was fresh in his memory.

As the two much tried men were considering the best way of conveying the treasure quietly to the house of its owner, Ibraeem knocked at the door. When admitted, the man could scarcely speak for excitement. "The Imam is dead!" cried the liberated slave out of breath.

"The Imam dead!--Who killed him?" asked Cordosa, sure that death had not come peacefully,--else why that commotion?

"He killed both the Imam and the Kadi," supplemented Ibraeem, "He ran amuck."

"Who is he?" asked Ben Abir with pardonable impatience.

"Menahem Cordosa," breathed the slave, betraying a delicacy of feeling slaves are not credited with. Cordosa grew faint, and was caught in the arms of Ben Abir.

"Menahem Cordosa an assassin!" mourned the stricken parent. "It is well that it ended as it did," added Cordosa, having recovered his composure. "Take your hoard, friend, and may thy house prosper."

"Dost thou remember to have ever seen this heap of coin?" asked Ben Abir, seeing Ibraeem's eyes fascinated by the shining pile.

"That is the gold we saw that Friday eve before thy tent," replied Ibraeem.

"Yes, Ibraeem, and then I told thee that what is to be will be. This all goes to our house, thine not less than mine, faithful Ibraeem, who shall live to the end of thy days with the Croesus of Yemen," said the grateful Ben Abir.

THE FATE OF ARZEMIA.