第 8 页

"Yes, indeed," I said to my uncle, when he had concluded; "that explains it all. They drew up the certificate of decease according to the papers found on your friend Lefébure, and as they were yours——"

"Why, they mistook him for me; and that ass Rabassu went off with the ship to bring the notary the news of my death."

"That's clear," I added.

"But what puzzles me most," replied he, "is to know what has become of my camels!"

As you may well imagine, my dear Louis, this unexpected resurrection of my uncle plunged me into a state of excitement, which took entire possession of me. I could not see enough of him, or hear enough of him; and all that day I so completely forgot everything which did not concern him, that I did not even think of moving outside the château. I followed him from room to room, and kept looking at him, for I felt the need of convincing myself that he was really alive. As to him, quickly recovering from the very transitory astonishment into which the news of his supposed death had thrown him, he had resumed that splendid composure, which you remember in him. He superintended all his little arrangements, and unpacked all his boxes, full of all sorts of articles from Nubia, whistling all the while fragments of bamboulas which were still ringing in his ears.

After dinner in the evening, he said to me, stretching out his long legs over the divan, with the air of a man who loves his ease:

"By Jove, it's very snug here! If you like, we will stay down here several weeks."

"As many weeks as you like, uncle," I answered—"months even!"

"Well done!—But," he continued, "won't you be rather dull——for, unless you have some little distraction——"

"Ah!" I exclaimed, remembering all at once my harem; "I forgot to tell you about this little affair!"

"What affair—" he said. "Have you found your distraction already, then—"

"I should just think I have, uncle!"

"Is she pretty—"

"Why, I have four!"

At this information my uncle did not raise his eyebrows any more than if I had told him that I was occupying my leisure by practising the rustic flute; he only stretched out his arm, took my hand and shook it smartly in the English fashion, saying, "My compliments, my dear fellow!—I beg your pardon for my indiscretion."

"But, my dear uncle, I have quite a long story to tell you!" I added, not without a certain embarrassment "—and it is your death again that has been the cause of it!"

"How was that— Tell me all about it."

"You know, your Turkish pavilion—Kasre-el-Nouzha—"

"I know, well—"

"Well, four months ago, Mohammed-Azis arrived there."

"Hullo!" he said, "Mohammed—"

"Yes, and you had entrusted him with a—a commission," I continued.

"True," he exclaimed, "I had forgotten that!"

"Well, then, uncle——"

"He had accomplished his commission, I suppose," continued he.

"Yes," I replied. "And as you were dead, and Mohammed's commission formed part of my inheritance from you, I thought that it was my duty—"

"Bigre!" said my uncle, "you know how to act the heir very well, you do!"

"Why indeed—" I continued, "remember that I could not suppose——"

"In short you've done it," said he, "and it's all over, so don't let us say anything more about it! And once more, forgive me.—Now that I know all about it, nothing more need be said. Turks never discuss harem matters. Only," he added, "in order to avoid the necessity of returning to the subject, let me now recommend you to keep Mohammed; you understand— He knows the run of the ropes. And in order to make everything safe, as it would not do for me to be seen about there any more, tell him to come and see me."

"Do you wish me to send for him at once—"

"No, no, to-morrow will do. We have plenty of time.—Come, give me a little music, will you— Play me something from Verdi—"

And he began to hum in his bass voice, slightly out of tune, snatches from the air:

"Parigi o cara, noi lasceremo."

We passed a charming evening together, what with conversation, music, and cards. He won three francs of me at piquet, with a ridiculous display of triumph. About twelve o'clock I took him to his bedroom. When he was ready to get into bed, he exclaimed:

"Té! I have some securities here which I had forgotten!" And taking a penknife, he proceeded to cut the stitches of his coat lining, from which he drew out some papers.

"See!" he said, as he held them out to me, "here are seven hundred thousand francs' worth of bills on London and Paris. You shall get them cashed."

"Very well, uncle," I replied. "And what do you want me to do with the money—"

"Oh, upon my word, that's your affair, my pichoun! You may be sure, now that you have come into your inheritance, I am not going to be troubled with such matters!"

"Well, at least advise me about them."

"But, my good fellow, that means that I am still to have all the bother about them—. After all," he continued, "keep the money if you like—it will do for my pocket money."

Thereupon he went to bed, I wished him good night, and was about to leave the room, when he called me back.

"Come here, André! Write, if you please, to the notary and ask him to come here to-morrow."

"Ah!" I replied, "you're coming round to that at last!"

"I am coming round to nothing whatever!" he exclaimed, in a most decided tone. "Only I want to know what has become of my camels! As you may guess, I intended to present them to the Zoological Society. I must have them found! Good night!"

I should certainly annoy you, my dear Louis, if I were to endeavour to impress upon you the full significance of the amazing events through which I have passed during these four months. I don't know of a single mortal who has experienced more original adventures. The dreadful letter from the notary, my installation at Férouzat, my uncle's will, the harem tumbling down upon me from Turkey, the entering into complete possession of my fortune, and the whole crowned by the return of the deceased. Certainly you will agree with me that these are incidents which one does not meet with in everyday life. Nevertheless, if you want to know my ideas about them, I confess that they seem to me at the present moment to be nothing but the Necessary and the Contingent of philosophers, in their simplest application. I would go so far as to assert that, to a nephew of my uncle, things could not fall so to happen, for it would show a want of training in the most elementary principles of logic, to exhibit surprise at such little adventures, when once Barbassou-Pasha has been introduced on the scene as Prime Cause. The substratum of my uncle so powerfully influences my destiny, that to my mind it would seem quite paradoxical to expect the same things ever to happen to me as to any other man. Cease being astonished, therefore, at any strange peculiarities in my life, even if they be eccentric enough to shock a rigidly constituted mind. Like those erratic planets which deviate occasionally from their course, I move around the remarkable star called Barbassou-Pasha, and he draws me into his own eccentric orbit. In spite of a semblance of romantic complications among the really simple facts which I have related to you, I defy you to discover in them the slightest grain of inconsistency. They can be perfectly well accounted for by the most natural causes and the most ordinary calculations of common sense. Cease your astonishment, therefore, unless you wish to fall into the lowest rank in my estimation.

Having postulated the fact that I am the nephew of my uncle, I will now return to the summarising of my situation. Well, my late uncle had come to life again, but he wanted to keep all the advantages of his status as a dead man, by obliging me to remain in possession of his property. I had just said "good night" to him, while he was dreaming about his camels. Nothing could be less complicated than that. If all that is not in strict conformity with the character of Barbassou (Claude Anatole), I know nothing about him. Nevertheless, it was only natural that the day celebrated by his return should give birth to some other incidents of importance.

I had just left my uncle, and was walking towards the library to write at once to the notary, when Francis informed me that a woman from the Kasre had been waiting an hour to see me. One of the Greek servants came sometimes to the château, either with messages or to await my orders. I concluded at once that, not having seen me either during the day or in the evening, my little animals had grown anxious and were sending to inquire after me. I went to my room, where Francis said the woman was. As I entered I saw her standing up, motionless, near the window, wrapped in her great black feridjié; but I had hardly shut the door behind me when, all at once, I heard a cry and sobs. The feridjié fell down, and I recognised Kondjé-Gul, who threw herself on to my neck and seized me in her arms with signs of the deepest despair.

"Good gracious!" I said, "is that you— You come here—"

Breathless and suffocated with tears, she could not answer me. I guessed, rather than heard, these words:

"I have run away! I have come to die with you!"

"But you are mad, dear, quite mad!" I exclaimed. "Why should you die— What has happened then—"

"Oh, we know all!" she continued. "Barbassou-Pasha has returned. He is a terrible man. He is going to kill you; us also; Mohammed also!"

And raving with fear she clung to me with all her strength, just as if she were already threatened with death.

"But, my dear child," I said, "this is all madness—who in the world has told you such nonsense—"

"Mohammed. He heard of the Pasha's return—he has hidden himself."

"But my uncle is a very kind man—he adores me, and does not even intend to see you. Nothing will be changed for us by his return."

Seeing me so calm, she was gradually reassured. Still she was too much possessed by her Turkish notions to believe all at once in such a departure from correct oriental usages.

"Well then," she said as she dried her tears, "he will only kill Mohammed—"

"Not even Mohammed!" I exclaimed, with a smile. "Mohammed is a poor coward, and I will give him a bit of my mind to-morrow, so that he shan't worry you with any more nonsense of this kind."

"You don't mean it—" she replied. "Then he will only get a beating—"

I was about to protest, when I perceived by her first words that she suspected I wanted to play upon her credulity. There was thus a danger of reviving her worst fears, for she would not believe any more of my assurances. I contented myself therefore with promising to intercede with Barbassou-Pasha. Once convinced that Mohammed's punishment would extend no further than his hind-quarters, she troubled herself no more about it, but with the characteristic volatility of these little wild creatures, began to chatter and examine all the things in my room, touching and feeling everything with an insatiable curiosity.

"Come now, you must go home," I said to her, not wishing this little excursion of hers to be discovered.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" she cried, with childlike delight. "It's your home—do let me look at it!"

"Oh, but you must go and comfort Zouhra, Nazli, and Hadidjé!"

"They are asleep," she said. "I want to stay a little time here alone with you! Besides," she added, with a little frightened look still lingering on her face, "suppose Barbassou-Pasha has been deceiving you, suppose he is coming to kill you to-night—"

"But once more I tell you, dear, you are mad!"

"Well then, why send me back so soon—"

"Because it is not proper for you to leave the harem," I answered. "Come along, off you go!"

"Oh, just a little longer!—I beg you, dear!" she said, with a kiss.

How could I resist her, my dear Louis— Tell me—

I sat down, watching her moving about and rummaging everywhere. I must tell you that under her feridjié (which she had let down on my entrance into the room), she was dressed in a sort of loose gown of pale blue cashmere, embroidered with lively designs in silk and gold. Her snow-white arms emerged from wide, hanging sleeves. This costume produced a charming picturesque effect in the midst of my room, which, although comfortable, was very prosaic in its style—although to her it seemed wonderful. She touched everything, for she could not be satisfied with seeing only, and her questions never ceased… At last, after half-an-hour, considering her curiosity to be satisfied, as she was beginning to ransack the books lying on my table, I said once more,

"Come, Kondjé-Gul, you must go."

With these words, I picked up her feridjié, and took her back to the harem. A pale light was shining through the windows of the drawing-room. Hadidjé, Nazli, and Zouhra were still there. To describe the terror which came over their faces directly I appeared, would be impossible. Hearing steps in the night, they made sure their last moments had arrived. At the sound of the door opening, they cried out loud—the three poor miserable things took refuge in a corner.

When they saw me enter with Kondjé-Gul, they were thrown into a great consternation. With a few words I reassured them at once.

As to Mohammed, it was impossible to find him. I will confess, moreover, that I felt very little interest in searching for him—I was far from ill-pleased with the thought that he was paying for the trouble which his stupidity had caused my poor darlings, by a night of fear and trembling.

My lamb having returned to the fold, I eventually retraced my steps to the château.

Is it necessary to tell you that the surprising events of the day had caused me emotions which I was scarcely able to understand—

My uncle's resurrection—

Lefébure—

The Changallas—

The camels—

They all kept my brain at work the whole night long.

CHAPTER IV.

I apologise, my dear Louis, for having left you a month without a letter from me, as you reproach me somewhat severely. You are not afraid, I should hope, that my friendship for you has cooled. The real cause of my silence is that I have had nothing to tell you. The even tenor of my existence permits only of daily repetitions of the same very simple events. My affections being divided between my harem and my uncle Barbassou, I revel in the tranquillity of the fields and woods, which afford to my mind that quiet freedom which is always more or less disturbed by the excited atmosphere of city life.