There was nothing else here but a small chest that stood in a remote corner, as in Butheita's tent. In that she kept the little ornaments, purchased for her in Tantah by her father, articles of jewelry found in the sand of the desert, and which had perhaps been worn by a daughter of the Pharaohs, and gems that had been taken from the grave of some mummy, where they had lain for thousands of years. Outwardly the chest that stood in the corner looked like the other, but it contained treasures of a different nature; a costly necklace of pearls, buckles of enormous value, and a diadem, so lustrous that it seemed as though Mohammed had stolen stars from heaven with which to adorn his love.
As he stands there absorbed in the contemplation of these articles, a feeling of unutterable bliss comes over him, of happiness unknown to him for many long years.
Yes, unknown to him for long years, for very many have elapsed since Masa died. Since the time when he prepared the subterranean grotto for Masa, he has never until now experienced such ecstasy. He steps out, closes the curtains, and surveys every thing once more, and smiles his approval.
"Now I go for your mistress," murmured he, as he turns and walks toward the door. But at the door he suddenly stands still. He feels that this is not the countenance of the viceroy, of a ruler, but that of a happy man. Such a countenance he must, however, not exhibit to the world; no one must see that the ruler, perplexed and weighed down with the cares of state, can sometimes forget that he is a ruler, and become for a moment a happy man. When he steps out his countenance wears its usual grave and severe expression.
On the evening of this day, the viceroy leaves the citadel for a short time. He wishes to repose for a few days in his house on the shore of the Nile, opposite Boulak, in the house he had caused to be built when he was sarechsme, and to which he had given the name Salam-lyk.
A single servant, Achmed, accompanies the viceroy to Salam-lyk, where he proposes to enjoy a little rest from the cares of state, as he is in the habit of doing from time to time.
Upon his arrival at Salam-lyk, he calls Achmed to his apartment, confers with him for a long time, and gives him instructions with regard to something he wishes him to do. Achmed leaves him, mounts a swift dromedary, and rides out into the night, and Mohammed retires to rest. But he rises again with the earliest dawn, and gazes impatiently out of the window, as if expecting some one; he smiles at himself; he is as impatient as a young girl, or as a lover awaiting the coming of his love.
But hour after hour passes, and still he sees no one coming up the path that leads through the garden to the house. But finally, at noon, Achmed is seen approaching Mohammed hastens out into the garden to meet him.
"Well, did you find the tent?"
"Yes, master, the dromedary ran to it of its own accord.""And whom did you meet at the tent?"
"The father, master--the chief Arnhyn."
Mohammed quickly averts his face--the servant must not see that his lips quiver, that he grows pale.
"You met the chief, and he was alone?"
"Yes, master, alone in his tent, and I conversed with him.""What was said? Did he speak of his daughter? Has she followed another man to his tent?" asked Mohammed, in such quick, passionate tones, that Achmed started and failed to understand his meaning.
"No, master, he spoke to me of his daughter, because I, as you instructed me, asked about, her, yet so casually, that he could not suspect that I particularly desired to speak of her. He told me his daughter was much changed; she had become sad and delicate, and he had therefore sent her to visit some friends at Petresin, in order that she might be thrown together with other young girls for a time, and learn to laugh and jest again. She had, however, sent her father word yesterday that she could endure it no longer, and would return home to-day. He stood at the door awaiting her, unwilling to leave his tent to go out to meet her, for fear of the thieving Bedouins that roam the desert, and who knew that his tent contained costly treasures.""Then you suppose Butheita will return to her father's to-day?""I remained there until I saw her coming in the distance. The sheik's eagle-eyes recognized her in the dim distance. 'There comes my daughter, Butheita, with her friends!' he cried, joyously; 'in an hour she will be here.' I remained some time longer, the sheik gradually becoming more and more delighted as he recognized his daughter more distinctly. 'Yes, it is Butheita!' he cried; 'she is returning home.' Then I took my departure, master, to bring you the intelligence.""And how long," asked Mohammed, hastily, his countenance averted--"how long do you suppose it will take to reach the sheik's tent?""I took, as you instructed me, master, the dromedary you recently purchased from Sheik Arnhyn. It knew the road, and flew on its way like the wind, without any guidance. I think it call be reached in two hours.""In two hours!" repeated Mohammed. "An hour after sunset, this evening, have the dromedary in readiness, and, for yourself, the swiftest horse. At that hour we will depart."
