Khaled, A Tale of Arabia Part 25

'If only I could speak to her now, she might love me yet!' he thought.

The distant murmur from without was louder now and reached the room, and he heard it. He tried with all his might to raise his hand, to lift his head, to speak a single word.

'It may be that this is the nature of death,' he thought again, 'and I am already dead.'

The noise from the mult.i.tude came louder and louder. Zehowah heard it and her breath was caught in her throat. She looked up and saw that the high window of the chamber was no longer quite dark. The day was dawning. Then pressing her bosom with her hands she looked again at Khaled. His head was bent upon his breast and he was so still that she thought he had fallen asleep. A cry broke from her lips.

'He cares not!' she exclaimed. 'What is it to him, whether I go, or stay?'

Again Khaled felt the cool breeze in the room, fanning his forehead, and once more his limbs trembled. Then he felt that his strength was returning and that he could move. He raised his head and looked at Zehowah, and just then there was a distant crashing roar, as the Bedouins began to strike upon the gates.

'It is time,' he said, and taking his sword in his hand he rose from his seat.

Zehowah came towards him with outstretched hands, wet cheeks and burning eyes. She stood before him as though to bar the way, and hinder him from going out.

'What is it to you, whether I go, or stay?' he asked, repeating her own words.

'What is it? By Allah, it is all my life--I will not let you go!' And she took hold of his wrists with her weak woman's hands, and tried to thrust him back.

'Go, Zehowah,' he answered, gently pressing her from him. 'Go now, and let me meet them alone, knowing that you are safe. For though this be pity which you feel, I know it is nothing more.'

He would have pa.s.sed by her, but still she held him and kept before him.

'You shall not go!' she cried. 'I will prevent you with my body. Pity, you say? Oh, Khaled! Is pity fierce? Is pity strong? Does pity burn like fire? You shall not go, I say!'

Then her hands grew cold upon his wrists, her cheeks burned and in her eyes there was a deep and gleaming light. All this Khaled felt and saw, while he heard the raging of the mult.i.tude without. His sight grew again uncertain. A third time the cool breath blew in his face.

'Yet it cannot be love,' he said uncertainly. Yet she heard him.

'Not love? Khaled, Khaled--my life, my breath, my soul--breath of my life, life of my spirit--oh, Khaled, you have never loved as I love you now!'

Her hands let go his wrists and clasped about his neck, and her face was hidden upon his shoulder while her breath came and went like the gusts of the burning storm in summer.

But as he held her, Khaled looked up and saw that the Angel of Allah was before him, having a smiling countenance and bearing in his hand a bright flame like the crescent moon.

'It is well done, O Khaled,' said the Angel, 'and this is thy reward.

Allah sends thee this to be thy own and to live after thy body, saying that thou hast well earned it, for love such as thou hast got now is a rare thing, not common with women and least of all with wives of kings.

And now Allah alone knows what thy fate is to be, but thou shalt be judged at the end like other men, according to thy deeds, be they good or evil. And so receive thy soul and do with it as thou wilt.'

The Angel then held out the flame which was like the crescent moon and it immediately took shape and became the brighter image of Khaled himself, endowed with immortality, and the knowledge of its own good and evil. And when Khaled had looked at it fixedly for a moment, being overcome with joy, the vision of himself disappeared, and he was aware that it had entered his own body and taken up its life within him.

'Return thanks to Allah, and go thy way to the end,' said the Angel, who then unfolded his wings and departed to paradise whence he had come.

But Khaled clasped Zehowah tightly in his arms, and looking upwards repeated the first chapter of the Koran and also the one hundred and tenth chapter, which is ent.i.tled, a.s.sistance. When he had performed these inward devotions he turned his gaze upon Zehowah and kissed her.

'Praise be to Allah,' he said, 'for this and all blessings. But now let us defend ourselves if we can, my beloved, for I think my enemies are at hand.'

And so he would have stooped to take up his sword which had fallen upon the floor. But still Zehowah held him and would not let him go.

'Not yet, Khaled!' she cried. 'Not yet, soul of my soul! The gates are very strong, and will withstand this battering for some time.'

'Would you have him whom you love sit still in the net until the hunters come to catch him?' he asked in a tender voice.

'You said you would wait here,' she pleaded. 'If we must die, let us die here--our life will be a little longer so.'

'Did I say so? I thought you did not love me then, and I would have slain a few only, for my own sake, that my blood might not be unavenged.

But now I will slay them all, for your sake, and the bodies of the dead shall be a rampart for you.'

'Oh, do not go!' she cried again. 'I know a secret pa.s.sage from the palace, that leads out by the wall of the city--come quickly, there is yet time, and we shall escape--for Allah will protect us. Surely, when I was fainting in your arms I heard an angel's voice--and surely the angel is yet with us, and will lighten the way as we go.'

'The Angel was indeed here, for he brought me the soul that was promised, if you loved me. And now all is changed, for if we live, we get the victory and if we die we shall inherit paradise.'

And Zehowah looked into his eyes and saw the living soul flaming within, and she believed him.

'If you had always been as you are now, I should have always loved you,'

she said softly, and stooping down she took up his sword and drew it out and put it into his hand. 'I tried to wield one when you were not looking,' she said, 'but it hurt my wrist. Come, Khaled--let us go together.'

Then he kissed her once more, and she kissed him, and putting one arm about her, he led her swiftly out by the pa.s.sage towards the great gate.

It was now broad dawn and the light was coming in by the narrow windows.

Zehowah clung to Khaled closely, for the noise of the thundering blows was terrible and deafening, and the mult.i.tude without were shouting to each other and calling upon Abdullah to come out, for they supposed him to be in the palace. But the guards and soldiers within had all hidden themselves though they were awake, for there was no one to command them nor to lead them, and they dared not open the gate lest they themselves should be slain in the first rush of the crowd.

Then Khaled and Zehowah paused for a moment near the gate.

'It is better that you should go back, my beloved,' said Khaled. 'Hear what a mult.i.tude of angry men are waiting outside.'

'I will not leave you--neither in life nor in death,' she answered.

'Let it be so, then,' said Khaled, 'and I will do my best. For a hundred men could not stop the way before me now, and I think that of five hundred I could slay many.'

So he went up to the gate, and Zehowah stood a little behind him so as to be free of the first sweep of his sword.

'Abdullah!' cried some of the crowd without, while battering at the iron-bound doors. 'Abdullah, thou son of Mohammed and father of lies, come out to us, or we will go to thee!'

'Abdullah, thou thief, thou Persian, thou cheat, come out, and may boiling water be thy portion!'

'Stand back from the gate, and I will open it to you!' cried Khaled in a voice that might have been heard across the Red Desert as far as the sh.o.r.es of the great ocean.

'I, Khaled, will open,' he cried again.

Then there was a great silence and the people fell back a little.

Khaled drew the bolts and unfastened the locks, and opened the gates inward and stood forth alone in the morning light, his sword in his hand and his soul burning in his eyes.

'Khaled!' cried the first who saw him, and the cry was taken up.

The shout was great, and full of joy and shook the earth. For the mult.i.tude had grown hot in anger against Abdullah, while they battered at the gates, supposing that he had slain Khaled. But he himself could not at first distinguish whether they were angry or glad.

'If any man wishes to take my life,' he cried, 'let him come and take it.'