第 23 页

"Meanwhile, does the mother appear favourable to your request—"

"It was not her duty to declare herself at the first interview," said my aunt. "She has, as you know, all the fatalistic composure of her race; still, when I described Daniel's fortune, I fancied she listened to me with some approval."

"Did she tell you what dowry she could give her daughter—"

"Dowry! are you mad— We talked in Turkish and discussed the matter in the Turkish way. I think I should have surprised her exceedingly if I had given her the idea that I was asking, not only for Kondjé-Gul herself, but for some pecuniary remuneration to the noble Kiusko for taking her. That would have been sufficient to upset all her ideas, for don't you know that in the East it is the husband, on the contrary, who always makes a present to the parents of the girl he wants to have— This arrangement, by the way, seems to me more chivalrous and more manly. Kiusko, for that matter, cares about as much for money as for a straw: he loves her, and that is enough for him."

I took good care not to disturb the illusive hopes which my aunt had already conceived. Being reassured by the manner in which Madame Murrah had played her part, it only remained for me to determine the time and the form of refusal best adapted to the circumstances.

While I was in the midst of these reflections, Count Kiusko came in, like any familiar friend, without being announced. He held out his hand to me with more than his usual cordiality. By his happy looks I judged that he had already had a word of encouragement from my aunt, and that he had come to learn in detail the result of her first attempt. Not wishing to disturb their interview, I pretended after a minute or two that I had some letters to write, and left them.

The following morning I was only just out of bed when Kiusko came up with his spurs on. We had decided the day before to ride together to the Bois. As he usually went to the rendezvous by himself, I guessed that to-day he wanted to appear to have been taken there by me, in order to cover his embarrassment, or perhaps his bashfulness when he met Kondjé-Gul. Having made up my mind to avoid all confidences, I kept my valet in the room with me, dressing myself very deliberately, and without any compassion for Kiusko's impatience. This compelled us, directly we were mounted, to gallop to the Bois, a procedure not very favourable to confidential effusions.

We only joined the party at the Avenue of Acacias on their way back. I took care to watch Kiusko as he saluted Kondjé-Gul. He blushed and stammered out a compliment addressed collectively to all the three girls. Kondjé's countenance betrayed nothing more than the flush produced by her ride. We started off in two separate parties. From motives of discretion, I suppose, Kiusko remained behind with Suzannah and the commodore. Edward and I had gone in front with Kondjé-Gul and Maud, who was quarrelling with her cousin upon the important question, as to whether we should gallop straight ahead or make a round between the trees. Kondjé-Gul decided the matter by suddenly entering the cover.

"Who loves me, let him follow me!" she said, with a laugh.

I followed her, and in a few moments we found ourselves side by side.

"Oh, such a fine piece of news!" she said to me, as soon as Maud and Edward, who were behind us, were out of hearing.

"What is it—" I asked.

"Well, I must tell you that the day before yesterday your aunt came to see my mother while I was away, and there and then formally requested my hand in marriage for the noble Count Daniel Kiusko. My mother related this to me this morning, when I got up."

"And what did you answer her—"

"Oh, I laughed at first, and then I told mamma that she must inform you at once, so that you may decide upon the manner in which she shall repulse the enemy."

"That's simple enough," said I. "She has only to tell my aunt, when next she calls, that she has consulted you."

"Is it as simple as that—"

"Certainly," I said, with a feeling of annoyance at the idea that she knew of Daniel's love. "Is it not solely your will that has to be consulted—"

Kondjé-Gul regarded me with astonishment.

"My will—" she said. "Good heavens! do you love me no longer—"

"Why should you imagine I love you no longer—" I answered.

"One might suppose that you wished to remind me of that horrible liberty which I am so much afraid of."

I then realised how stupid and abrupt I had been, and asked her forgiveness.

"You naughty fellow!" she said, pointing to the golden bracelet clasped round her arm.

We decided that I should go to her mother to concert with her and dictate to her the precise terms of a refusal which should cut short all Kiusko's hopes. We were just then emerging from the narrow avenue, and Maud and Edward were joining us again. Our ride came to an end without any other incident of note, except indeed that it appeared to me Daniel was watching Kondjé and myself, as if he wanted to guess what had taken place during our tête-à-tête, which he had observed from a distance. I troubled myself no further about this, but made up my mind to take measures that very day to put an end to this stupid adventure.

About three o'clock I went to Téral House, and in an interview with Kondjé-Gul's mother drew up the precise terms of her answer to my aunt, which consisted of a formula usually employed on similar occasions.

"Mademoiselle Kondjé-Gul feels greatly flattered by the honour which Count Daniel Kiusko has intended to confer upon her, but is unable to accept it." To this we added, in order to convince him it was not one of those half-decisive answers which he might hope to overcome: "She desires to inform their friend confidentially that her heart is no longer free, and that she is engaged to one of her relations." This partly-confidential answer possessed the merits of a candid communication, after receiving which no honourable man could press her without giving offence. Moreover, it established a definite status, under which Kondjé-Gul could shelter herself for the future from all importunate attempts on the part of my rival.

CHAPTER XIV.

You are returning once more, my dear Louis, to your favourite occupation of knocking down skittles which you have set up yourself, and are trying to exercise your humorous spirit at my expense.

You tell me that my Oriental system of life crumbles away upon contact with the hard world, and with those sentiments which I venture to class among the antiquated prejudices of a worn-out civilisation.

You do not perceive, you subtle scoffer, that every one of your arguments can be turned against you to establish the superiority of the customs of the harem. Can't you see that all these mishaps, these troubles, and these outbursts of jealousy, which you have intentionally magnified, originate solely in Kondjé-Gul's emancipation from the harem, and that none of them would have occurred if I had not departed from Turkish usages— Consider on the one hand the tranquillity of my amours with Zouhra, Nazli, and Hadidjé, my easy life with them, as a poet and a sultan, secure from all annoying rivalries, and on the other hand look at these difficulties and contests arising all at once out of our social conventionalities.

I do not really know why I should waste any more time discussing the question with you.

Being now confident that after the declaration which Madame Murrah would next day make to my aunt, Kondjé-Gul would be freed henceforth from the importunities of Count Kiusko, I soon recovered my peace of mind. I entertained no doubts as to the effect which such a decisive answer would produce upon Daniel. I knew that he was too deeply in love not to feel the blow severely.

I expected, accordingly, to hear that he was mourning in some secluded retreat over his lost hopes. For him to see Kondjé-Gul again after such an unqualified refusal would only revive his sorrows and cause him more suffering. More than this, it would place her in an uncomfortable position since his declaration of love to her. But while I was convincing myself as to this necessity for him to break off his relations with her, great was my surprise at seeing him reappear among us the following day as calm as ever, and just as if no unpleasant incident had befallen him. Time went on, and still there was no change in this respect. One might even have said, to judge from his easy demeanour and from a certain increase of assurance in his manner, that he felt confident in the future success of his endeavours, and was only waiting for the happy moment when his aspirations would be realized.

I could not help being puzzled by this remarkable result of a decided rejection of his suit, but as I had so plainly avoided my rival's confidences in my embarrassment at the part I was playing, I could not now attempt to regain them. I began to suspect that Kondjé-Gul's mother had rehearsed her part imperfectly, and at last made up my mind to question my aunt discreetly on this point.

"By the by, my dear aunt," I said to her one morning in a perfectly unconcerned tone of voice, "you have not told me anything more about Kiusko's intended marriage."

"Ah, there is no longer any question of it!" she answered me. "He presented himself too late: the fair Kondjé-Gul's heart is occupied. She is even engaged to one of her own relations I hear."

"Then he seems to me to be bearing his disappointment very easily."

"Oh, don't be too sure about that! Daniel is not one of those whining lovers who publish their lamentations to the whole world. He loves her, as I could see by his sudden paleness when I announced to him the definite rejection of his offer; but he has an iron will, and you may be certain that if he is so calm, that only shows he still cherishes some hope. As for me, I won't believe in Kondjé-Gul's marriage with her cousin, until I see them coming out of church together."

Now although it was of small consequence to me that Kiusko, in his robust faith, still preserved a remnant of hope, I must admit that I felt somewhat aggravated by his presumptuous pertinacity. As he had formally declared his love, Kondjé-Gul could not henceforth feign to ignore it. There was an offensive kind of impertinence to her about that coolness of his, which affected to take no account of an engagement of which she had informed him as a justification for her refusal. However reserved he might be, and even if he never betrayed by a single word the secret feeling which he concealed so carefully during our intercourse as friends, it would be impossible for me not to feel the constraint of such a situation. So far as he was concerned, it did not seem to trouble him in the least. This demeanour, and this insolent confidence of his—such as might be expected in a petty feudal tyrant—irritated me inexpressibly; but an incident occurred, at first sight insignificant, which diverted the current of my suspicions into quite a different channel.

One morning, about ten o'clock, I was accompanying my aunt upon one of her rounds of visiting the poor. As we happened to be passing Count Téral's house, I was very much surprised to see Daniel coming out of it. What had he been doing there— This was Kondjé-Gul's lesson time, and certainly not the time of day for callers. This discovery put me into a state of agitation which it was extremely difficult for me to avoid showing.

I reflected, however, that it was quite possible Maud or Susannah had entrusted him with a message or with some book, which he had come to deliver. However that might be, I wanted to clear up the mystery. When half-way down the Champs Elysées, I pretended to have an order to give to a coachmaker, and leaving my aunt to return home alone, I went back to Téral House.

As I had anticipated, Kondjé-Gul was shut up with her music-mistress. I sent up my name in the ordinary way, and was immediately introduced.

"What! is it you—" she said, pretending before her mistress to be surprised at such an early visit. "Have you come to play a duet with me—"

"No," I answered, "I was passing by this way, and I will only trouble you long enough to find out if you have formed any plans for to-day with your friends the Montagues."

"None," she replied, "beyond that they are expecting me at three o'clock."

"Then they did not send you any message this morning—"

"No. Has anything happened—" she added in Turkish.

"Nothing whatever," I replied, with a laugh. "My aunt brought me this way, so I thought I would come and say good morning to you."

"How kind and nice of you!" she said, with evident warmth.

She had not left her piano, and I remained standing, so as to show that I had only called on my way, to receive her orders. I shook hands with her, saying that I did not wish to interrupt her lessons any more, and took my departure.

It was evident that Kondjé knew nothing about Daniel's visit. On my way out I spoke to Fanny, and gave her some instructions, telling her that I was going to send some flowers. This girl was quite devoted to me, and her discretion might be perfectly relied upon. However, as I did not wish her to think that I was questioning her about her mistress, I asked her in an indifferent manner if the count had not brought anything for me.

"I don't know, sir," she answered. "The count came an hour ago, but he told me to send in his name to Mademoiselle Kondjé's mother, who was expecting him, I think, and who ordered me to show him into the small drawing-room, where she went to see him. When he left, he said nothing to me."

"Did he say nothing to Pierre—" I added.

"Pierre was not in, sir," replied Fanny. "The count only spoke to Madame Murrah."

"Ah, very well!" I said, carelessly.

These inquiries had led me to a curious discovery. What was the meaning of this private interview between Kondjé's mother and Daniel— Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, I went up without any more ado to Madame Murrah's private sitting-room. She did not appear surprised, from which I concluded that she knew I was in the house, and was prepared to see me. For my part I pretended to have come to settle some details connected with the house and the stables, for I was obliged to assist her in the management of all her domestic affairs. She listened to what I said with that deferential sort of smile which she invariably assumes with me. When she was quite absorbed in the calculations which I had submitted, I said to her all at once: