Ali's big eyes began to fill, and great beads rolled down his black cheeks.Then, recovering his speech he blurted out that he would not go.He would follow his father and serve him until the end of his life.What did he want with wages?
Who asked for any? No going his ways for him! A pretty thing, wasn't it, that he should go off, and never see his father again, no, nor Naomi--Naomi--that-that--but God would show! God would show!
And, following Ali's lead, Fatimah stepped up to Israel and offered her paper back."Take it," she said; "I don't want any liberty.
I've got liberty enough as I am.And here--here," fumbling in her waistband and bringing out a knitted purse; "I would have offered it before, only I thought shame.My wages? Yes.You've paid us wages these nine years, haven't you; and what right had we to any, being slaves? You will not take it, my lord? Well, then, my dear master, if I must go, if I must leave you, take my papers and sell me to some one.I shall not care, and you have a right to do it.
Perhaps I'll get another good master--who knows?"Her brows had been knitted, and she had tried to look stern and angry, but suddenly her cheeks were a flood of tears.
"I'm a fool!" she cried."I'll never get a good master again;but if I get a bad one, and he beats me, I'll not mind, for I'll think of you, and my precious jewel of gold and silver, my pretty gazelle, Naomi--Allah preserve her!--that you took my money, and I'm bearing it for both of you, as we might say--working for you--night and day--night and day--"Israel could endure no more.He rose up and fled out of the patio into his own room, to bury his swimming face.But his soul was big and triumphant.Let the world call him by what names it would--tyrant, traitor, outcast pariah--there were simple hearts that loved and honoured him--ay, honoured him--and they were the hearts that knew him best.
The perilous task reserved for Ali was to go to Shawan and to liberate the followers of Absalam, who, less happy than their leader, whose strong soul was at rest, were still in prison without abatement of the miseries they lay under.He was to do this by power of a warrant addressed to the Kaid of Shawan and drawn under the seal of the Kaid of Tetuan.Israel had drawn it, and sealed it also, without the knowledge or sanction of Ben Aboo; for, knowing what manner of man Ben Aboo was, and knowing Katrina also, and the sway she held over him, and thinking it useless to attempt to move either to mercy, he had determined to make this last use of his office, at all risks and hazards.
Ben Aboo might never hear that the people were at large, for Ali was to forbid them to return to Tetuan, and Shawan was sixty weary miles away.And if he ever did hear, Israel himself would be there to bear the brunt of his displeasure, but Ali the instrument of his design, must be far away.For when the gates of the prison had been opened, and the prisoners had gone free, Ali was neither to come back to Tetuan nor to remain in Morocco, but with the money that Israel gave him out of the last wreck of his fortune he was to make haste to Gibraltar by way of Ceuta, and not to consider his life safe until he had set foot in England.
"England!" cried Ali."But they are all white men there.""White-hearted men, my lad," said Israel; "and a Jewish man may find rest for the sole of his foot among them."That same day the black boy bade farewell to Israel and to Naomi.
He was leaving them for ever, and he was broken-hearted.
Israel was his father, Naomi was his sister, and never again should he set his eyes on either.But in the pride of his perilous mission he bore himself bravely.
"Well, good-night," he said, taking Naomi's hand, but not looking into her blind face.
"Good-night," she answered, and then, after a moment, she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him.He laughed lightly, and turned to Israel.
"Good-night, father," he said in a shrill voice.
"A safe journey to you, my son," said Israel; "and may you do all my errands.""God burn my great-grandfather if I do not!" said Ali stoutly.
But with that word of his country his brave bearing at length broke down, and drawing Israel aside, that Naomi might not hear, he whispered, sobbing and stammering, "When--when I am gone, don't, don't tell her that I was black."Then in an instant he fled away.
"In peace!" cried Israel after him."In peace! my brave boy, simple, noble, loyal heart!"Next morning Israel, leaving Naomi at home, set off for the Kasbah, that he might carry out his great resolve to give up the office he held under the Kaid.And as he passed through the streets his head was held up, and he walked proudly.A great burden had fallen from him, and his spirit was light.The people bent their heads before him as he passed, and scowled at him when he was gone by.
The beggars lying at the gate of the Mosque spat over their fingers behind his back, and muttered "Bismillah! In the name of God!"A negro farmer in the Feddan, who was bent double over a hoof as he was shoeing a bony and scabby mule, lifted his ugly face, bathed in sweat, and grinned at Israel as he went along.
A group of Reefians, dirty and lean and hollow-eyed, feeding their gaunt donkeys, and glancing anxiously at the sky over the heads of the mountains, snarled like dogs as he strode through their midst.
The sky was overcast, and the heads of the mountains were capped with mist."Balak!" sounded in Israel's ears from every side.
"Arrah!" came constantly at his heels.A sweet-seller with his wooden tray swung in front of him, crying, "Sweets, all sweets, O my lord Edrees, sweets, all sweets," changed the name of the patron saint of candies, and cried, "Sweets, all sweets, O my lord Israel, sweets, all sweets!" The girl selling clay peered up impudently into Israel's eyes, and the oven-boy, answering the loud knocking of the bodiless female arms thrust out at doors standing ajar, made his wordless call articulate with a mocking echo of Israel's name.
What matter? Israel could not be wroth with the poor people.
