Stories by English Authors: Africa Part 18

"I am better."

The conversation ceased, for Gregorio was restless and his fingers itched to do their work. Something in his manner alarmed Amos, for he summoned in two of his servants and raised himself slightly, as if the better to avoid an attack. But he continued to smoke calmly, watching the Greek under his half-closed lids.

"I have another piece of business to settle with you."

"Do you want to borrow more money because I refuse to lend you any?"

"No; it is you who have borrowed, and I have come to you to receive back my own."

"I fail to understand you."

Gregorio tried to keep calm, but it was not possible. Rising to his feet, he bent over the Jew and cried out:

"Give me back my son, you Jew dog!"

"Your son is not here."

"You lie! by G.o.d, you lie! If he is not here you have murdered him."

"Madman!" shouted Amos, as the Greek's knife flashed from its sheath; but before he or his servants could stay the uplifted arm the Jew sank back among his cushions, wounded to the heart. With a shout of triumph and a "Death of all Jews!" Gregorio turned savagely on the servants and, reinforced by his companions, soon succeeded in slaying them. Then leaving the dead side by side, the four men dashed through the house seeking fresh victims. Ten minutes later they were in the street again, dripping with the blood of women and men, for in their fury they had killed every human being in the house.

Down the narrow native streets they pushed on quickly, hugging the shadows, toward the Penny-farthing Shop. Madam Marx, her ears sharpened by fear, heard them, admitted them by a side door, and led them quickly to an upper room. Thither she carried water and clean garments, but dared not ask any questions. Sick with anxiety, she re-entered the bar and waited.

At length the murderers appeared and called for coffee, and Madam Marx attended to their wants. In a few minutes the Egyptians left, and Gregorio and she were alone. Coming near him, she placed her hand timidly on his shoulder, and asked him, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, to tell her what had happened.

"My son was not there."

"Well?"

"Well, you can guess the rest. Not one person remains alive of that devil's household."

Madam Marx gasped at the magnitude of the crime, and though her terrors increased, her pride in the man capable of so tremendous revenge increased also.

"What will happen to you?" she found voice to ask.

"Nothing. I must hide here. We were not seen. Besides, you remember the last time a Greek murdered a Jew--it was at Port Said--the matter was hushed up. Our consuls care as little for Jews as we do. My G.o.d, how glad I am I killed him!"

His eyes were fixed on the street as he spoke, and suddenly he started to his feet. Madam rose too, and clung to him. He pushed her roughly on one side, while an evil smile played on his lips.

"By G.o.d, she shall come back now!"

"Who?"

"Xantippe. There is no need for her to live with the Englishman now. Our son is dead and the Jew in h.e.l.l. I will at least have my wife back."

"She will not come."

"She will come. By G.o.d, I will make her! I have tasted blood to-night, and I am not a child to be treated with contempt. I say I will make her come."

"But if she refuses?"

"Then I will take care she does not go back to the Englishman."

"You will--" but madam's voice faltered. Gregorio read her meaning and laughed a yes.

"But, Gregorio, think; you will be hanged for that. You wife is not a Jewess."

But Gregorio laughed again and strode into the street. He was mad with grief and the intoxicating draughts of vengeance he had swallowed. He strode across the road and mounted the stairs with steady feet. Madam Marx followed him, weeping and calling on him to come back. As he reached the door of his room she flung herself before him, but he pushed her on one side with his feet and shut the door behind him as he entered.

Lying on the threshold, she heard the bolt fastened, and knew the last act of the tragedy was begun.

XI--HUSBAND AND WIFE

As Gregorio entered the room, Xantippe, who was kneeling by a box into which she was placing clothes neatly folded, turned her head and said laughingly:

"You are impatient, my friend; I have nearly--"

But recognising Gregorio, she did not finish the sentence. She sat down on the edge of the box. Her face became white, and the blood left her lips. With a great effort she remained quiet and folded her hands on her lap.

Gregorio looked at her for a moment, a cruel smile making his sinister face appear almost terrible, and his bloodshot eyes glared at her savagely. At last he broke the silence by shouting her name hoa.r.s.ely, making at the same time a movement toward her. He looked like a wild animal about to spring upon his prey. Xantippe, however, did not flinch, answering softly:

"I am not deaf. What do you want here?"

"It is my room; I suppose I have a right to be here."

"I apologise for having intruded."

"None of your smooth speeches. The Englishman has schooled you carefully, I see. Can you say 'good-bye' in English yet?"

"Why should I say 'good-bye'?"

"It is time. You will come back to me now."

"Never."

Gregorio laughed hysterically and stood beside her. His fingers played with her hair. In spite of her fear lest she should irritate him, Xantippe shrank from his touch. Gregorio noticed her aversion and said savagely:

"You must get used to me, Xantippe. From to-night we live together again. It is not necessary now for you to earn money."

"I shall not come back to you. I have told you I hate you. It is your own fault that I leave you."

"It will be my fault if you do leave me."

He pushed her on to the mattress and held her there.

"Let us talk," he said.