The Palace of Darkened Windows Part 7

"And could we walk through that into the courtyard?"

"Undoubtedly."

"And this side is the _haremlik_," she murmured, glancing up at the windows upon the third floor which she felt were those of that rose and white room. Much of the rest of the wing, she saw, extending down to the high wall at right angles to it, was in a ruinous and dilapidated condition. "What is there?" she asked.

"The rooms the Khedive Ismail left unfinished. They are of no use."

"And on the other side?" she persisted, pointing towards the wall that was the continuation of the men's wing, which stopped at the colonnade.

"On the other side is the palace of another man, and on the other side of that, ending the road is a _cimitere_--what you say, cemetery."

"And back of _that_ wall?" She nodded at the one behind the palms, running parallel to the banquet hall.

"Back of that a ca.n.a.l, Mademoiselle, and across are other palaces.... You study the geography, it appears?"

"Indeed I do!" She turned towards him, her face bright with eagerness. Her light curls were blown about her forehead by a breeze, hot and dry, that seemed to mingle the odors of the desert with a piercing sweetness which it drew from the deep throats of the lilies swaying beside the path. "And I think _that_ is going to be the way out for me." Her quick nod was for the wall behind the palms. "I want you to do me a great big favor, Captain Kerissen, that will make me your debtor for life! You must help me break out of this quarantine this very night?"

Not the ghost of a fear of failure to persuade him lurked in those bright, dancing eyes. Not the ghost of a fear of failure haunted those confident, smiling lips.

He sucked on his cigarette a moment, then slowly blew a thin ring of blue smoke. He appeared interested in watching it.

"What is it--this idea?" he murmured.

"Well, you may have a better one but mine is just to climb that wall, as soon as it gets dark. If you just get a ladder, or a pile of chairs I am sure I can manage it--and then I'll be back at the hotel in an hour!"

He took out his cigarette and shook his head at her. "You would drop, like the plum of Haydee, into the arms of the soldier who is guarding on the other side.... Shall I tell you the story of that plum?"

"A soldier guarding--a _native_ soldier?"

"Yes."

"Then--then please won't you see if you can bribe him?" she shamelessly pleaded, anxiously clasping and unclasping her hands.

"_Please_, Captain Kerissen, you must help me to run away to-night.

I _can't_ be shut up like this--I can't give up the Nile trip and besides--Oh, I really must be back at that hotel to-night!... If that soldier is sure no one else will see him I know you can persuade him to look away just a little minute while I slip down and run off!"

"Ah, no, no, my dear Miss Beecher, there is no hope of that." The young man started walking down the path and Arlee walked beside him, her eyes fixed on his face, incredulous of the denial that they were reading there. "He would think it a test, a trap--not for one minute is it to be thought of! Now could I let you go alone in that place by the ca.n.a.l. There is danger--you do not understand----"

"Oh, I understand, but I can take care of myself!" Across her pleading flashed the ironic thought of how excellently she had taken care of herself in coming there that very afternoon! "Just let me get over that wall and I can find my way--and if you cannot bribe the man we can wait till it is darker and then, when he is at the other end, why I can be down and off in a jiffy!"

"He would shoot," said the Captain. "He has his order. I have talked with them.... And what would the authorities say when they send here the doctor to-morrow and you are gone?"

"Say--say--Oh, what does it matter what they say? Tell them that I ran away without your knowledge. Surely----"

"But your name has been given as detained. They would not let you reappear in the world----"

"You leave that to me! I know it would be all right--once I was there. Please do this for me, Captain Kerissen--_please_! I know that in a great palace like this there must be many, many ways where one could slip into the streets----"

"In all this palace there are but three doors--the door in the vestibule by which you entered, the great door to its right, under the arch into the court, and the little door from the garden to the ca.n.a.l." He waved his cigarette at the wall ahead of them, towards which they were slowly walking. "And all those three doors are barred upon the outside and there is a soldier before each one--and the soldier that you saw within the vestibule, watching us there."

"But--but the windows." She remembered the _mashrubiyeh_, but went on resolutely, "I mean, the windows on the men's side. Aren't there any windows in that part which are open?"

"The _selamlik_ is a short wing and looks into the court." A note of impatience sounded in his voice. He tossed away his cigarette which fell, a burning spark, in the shadows. Already, as they talked, it had grown darker, and the impatient tropic night was stealing on them. "It is no use," he repeated. "There is no way out for you--or any of us."

Into her heart stole the unthinkable perception that he did not want to help her--he was afraid of the authorities--or else--or else--Desperately she returned to the appeal.

"But do let me try to get over that wall. I will watch for the soldier--I will take the responsibility. Please, now--let us plan that attempt."

His answer held a quiet finality. "It is impossible.... And the wall is too high for such little feet."

The startled color flashed into her cheeks. Only Oriental language of course.... Perhaps she was unduly sensitive to any hint of familiarity in her predicament.

"I could manage it perfectly," she said with coldness.

He bent over her, as they walked. "Are you so unhappy here?"

"Of course I am unhappy," she gave back with a clear matter-of-factness that strove to ignore the sudden softening of his voice. "I am _very_ unhappy. I realize that I should not be here, that I am intruding upon your hospitality----"

"You are making me most happy."

"And I am making my friends most anxious and losing my trip on the Nile."

"The Nile," he said, "flows on forever. Who knows how soon you will see it and under what happier circ.u.mstances?"

"Our boat was to sail at ten. I simply must find a way out to-night----"

"That is impossible." He spoke with sudden irritation, which he softened the next instant, with a light laugh. "You Americans--how you hurry!... Tell me--have you no heart for all this?"

She looked about her at the silent garden, the deepening shadows, the darkening sky. Above her head, now, high in the air were the faintly rustling palm leaves. Behind the palms stretched the wall, high and blankly impa.s.sable. She felt strange, unreal.... Her very fright was unreal.

"Tell me," he was saying, his voice low and caressing, "are there many girls like you--in your America?"

She tried to speak quite easily, quite simply. "You have been in England and France, Captain Kerissen, and you have seen many Americans traveling there."

"I have seen many--yes. But not like you." She looked swiftly at him, then more swiftly away. His eyes were glowing with a look of deep excitement; his teeth flashed white under his small, dark mustache. "Shall I tell you how you appear beside those others?"

"No, thank you," the girl answered with a hurried crispness which brought a stare and then a low laugh from him.

"You have been told so often?" he suggested.

"I never permit myself to be told at all!" Anger made her young voice imperious, but her heart was beating furiously. Involuntarily she quickened her steps and he reached his hand to her bare forearm and held her back.

"Pardon--but you are too quick."

She stood rigid, some deep instinct warning her not to resist. The situation had gone to the man's head, she felt dumbly; his courtesy was only a scant veneer over that Oriental cast of view which, like the Latin, reads every accident of propinquity as opportunity. His hand fell away and they walked on in slower time. When he spoke his voice betrayed the feeling quickening within him.

"Then I have a pleasure before me, for you will listen, please. To me your sister Americans are like big, bright flowers which grow by the wayside where every wind blows hard upon them. And each receives the dust of the footsteps of many men till comes the one who shall possess her. But he does not bear her away. He puts his name upon her, but leaves her out in the same field where every pa.s.serby may look and handle----"

"You are dreadfully rude," said Arlee clearly. "You don't understand at all. I thought you knew better."