"Curses on your grandfather!"
"Allah! Allah! Allah!"
"Balak! Balak! Balak!"
But presently the wild throng fell into order and silence.
The gate of the Kasbah was thrown open, and a line of soldiers came out, headed by the Kaid of Tetuan, and moved on towards the city wall.
The rabble were thrust back, the soldiers were drawn up in lines on either side of the street, and the Kaid, Ben Aboo himself, took a position by the western gate.
By this time there was commotion on the town walls among the townsmen who had gathered there.The Sultan's army was drawing near, a confused and disorderly mass of human beings moving on from the plain.
As they came up to the walls, the people who were standing on the house-roofs could see them, and as they were ordered away to encamp by the river, none could help but hear their shouts and oaths.
When the motley and noisy concourse had been driven off to their camping-ground, the gates of the town were thrown wide, for the Sultan himself was at hand.
First came two soldiers afoot, and then followed five artillerymen, with their small pieces packed on mules.Next came mounted standard-bearers four deep, some in red, some in blue, and some in green.
Then came the outrunners and the spearmen, and then the Sultan's six led horses.And then at length with the great red umbrella of royalty held over him, came the Sultan himself, the elderly sensualist, with his dusky cheeks, his rheumy eyes, his thick lips, and his heavy nostrils.The fat Father of Islam was mounted that day on a snow-white stallion, bedecked in gorgeous trappings.
Its bridle was of green silk, embroidered in gold.Solomon's seal was stamped on its headgear, and the tooth of a boar--a safeguard against the evil eye--was suspended from its neck.Its saddle was of orange damask, with girths of stout silk, and its stirrups were of chased silver.The Sultan's own trappings were of the colour of his horse.His kaftan was of white cloth, with an embroidered leathern girdle; his turban was of white cotton, and his kisa was also white and transparent.
As he passed under the archway of the town's gate the cannon of the Kasbah boomed forth a salute, Ben Aboo dismounted and kissed his stirrup, and the crowds in the streets burst upon him with blessings.
"God bless our Lord!"
"Sultan Abd er-Rahman!"
"God prolong the life of our Lord!"
He seemed hardly to hear them.Once his hand touched his breast when the Kaid approached him.After that he looked neither to the right nor to the left, nor gave any sign of pleasure or recognition.
Nevertheless the people in the streets ceased not to greet him with deafening acclamations.
"All's well, all's well," they told each other, and pointed to the white horse--the sign of peace--which the Sultan rode, and to the riderless black horse--the sign of strife--that pranced behind him.
The women on the housetops also, in their hooded cloaks, welcomed the Sultan with a shrill ululation: "Yoo-yoo, yoo-yoo, yoo-yoo!"Not content with this, the usual greeting of their sex and nation, some of them who had hitherto been closely veiled threw back their muslin coverings, exposed their faces to his face, and welcomed him with more articulate cries.
He gave them neither a smile nor a glance, but rode straight onward.
Beside him walked the fly-flappers, flapping the air before his podgy cheeks with long scarfs of silk, and behind him rode his Ministers of State, five sleek dogs who daily fed his appetites on carrion that his head might be like his stomach, and their power over him thereby the greater.After the Ministers of State came a part of the royal hareem.The ladies rode on mules, and were attended by eunuchs.
Such was the entry into Tetuan of the Sultan Abd er-Rahman.
In their heart of hearts did the people rejoice at his visit? No.
Too well they knew that the tyrant had done nothing for his subjects but take their taxes.Not a man had he protected from injustice;not a woman had he saved from dishonour.Never a rich usurer among them but trembled at his messages, nor a poor wretch but dreaded his dungeons.
His law existed only for himself; his government had no object but to collect his dues.And yet his people had received him amid wild vociferations of welcome.
Fear, fear! Fear it was in the heart of the rich man on the housetops, whose moneys were hidden, as well as in the darkened soul of the blind beggar at the gate, whose eyes had been gouged out long ago because he dared not divulge the secret place of his wealth.
But early in the evening of that same day, at the corners of quiet streets, in the covered ways, by the doors of bazaars, among the horses tethered in the fondaks, wheresoever two men could stand and talk unheard and unobserved by a third, one secret message of twofold significance passed with the voice of smothered joy from lip to lip.And this was the way and the word of it:
"She is back in the Kasbah!"
"The daughter of Ben Oliel? Thank God! But why? Has she recanted?""She has fallen sick."
"And Ben Aboo has sent her to prison?"
"He thinks that the physician who will cure her quickest.""Allah save us! The dog of dogs! But God be praised! At least she is saved from the Sultan.""For the present, only for the-present."
"For ever, brother, for ever! Listen! your ear.A word of news for your news: the Mahdi is coming! The boy has been for him.""Bismillah! Ben Oliel's boy?"
"Ali.He is back in Tetuan.And listen again! Behind the Mahdi comes the--""Ya Allah! well?"
"Hark! A footstep on the street--some one is near--""But quick.Behind the Mahdi--what?"
"God will show! In peace, brother, in peace!""In peace!"
