“I can say with truth,” he added, “that there are in Derbend no eligible young men with fortunes; the rich men, as if by a curse, are all old.”

  Mullah Sédek stroked his beard and said: “All is from Allah! all shall return to Allah! Are there no true worshippers of Hussein in the land of Iran? The sun rises and sets twice each day in the great king’s empire, and there is where you should choose a husband for your niece. O holy prophet, if you would mate the moon with one of the most glorious stars of heaven, I will send you my nephew, Mir Heroulali Tebris. He is intelligent and handsome; he is so rich that he does not know the number of his pearls and diamonds, and yet he is as shy and modest as a girl. AY lien he passes through the bazaar, every one bows, and it is who shall provide him with fruits, with cakes, with raisins. There is no danger of a single visitor’s presenting himself at his house without a present. If ever your niece becomes his wife, you can rest assured that she will have the first place in the baths of Tabbas.”

  This proposition was all the more pleasing to Festahli as it must destroy the hopes of Iskander, whom he could not endure.

  However, he had scruples against thus breaking a sacred promise.

  He therefore told Sédek that if such a transaction could be brought about, he would be rendered the proudest and happiest man in the world; but it was to be feared that Kassime’s mother might not approve. Then, too, the commandant of Derbend would certainly not permit a native of his own town, and consequently a Russian, to wed a Persian. And, besides, what would the people of Derbend say?

  “What will people say?” has some weight in Paris or at Saint Petersburg; but on the shores of the Caspian Sea, in the Orient, it is an afterthought of one who has forgotten his first.

  “‘What will they say?9” replied Sédek, banteringly. “Why, they will say that you are a man of judgment! To commit faults is pardonable, — to repair them praiseworthy; and, to be frank, what has this Iskander done that is so wonderful? Do you really believe that his snow brought the rain? Let me manage the thing, and I will show you how this affair can be arranged. In the meantime, give out that your sister is dangerously ill, and that, in fear of death, she has sworn to marry her daughter to none but a descendant of the prophet, to an imam. Your sister never leaves her room; in her room, even, she is as dumb as a fish: do not consult her. Have you not read in the sacred books how Job beat his wife when she counselled him to make friends with the devil? Besides, is Kassime’s mother your wife? What is she to you? A sister; that is all. Then spit upon her caprices.”

  “And the commandant?” said Festahli, smiling.

  “What can the commandant do? And then, cannot the commandant be tricked? What hinders your getting a passport to go to see your relatives in Persia?”

  Festahli consented, or rather, he had already consented long before.

  The next day they sent back to Iskander the halmi, or wedding-present, which he had already given to his betrothed.

  The young man, not being able to tear his hair, very nearly tore off his ears. For a long time he could not believe in this insult. But the bag, with the money it contained, was certainly there, under his very eyes. The old aunt could make nothing of it, and she pitied him with all her soul.

  Iskander was overwhelmed.

  He reviewed in his mind every means of avenging himself on Festahli without breaking the Russian laws. Ah! if there had been a khan at Derbend instead of a colonel! One thrust of a dagger, all would have been said, and Kassime would be his own.

  But he must not think of such a measure, expeditious though it was.

  Iskander became moody, and spoke no more than a dead man. He did not see Hadji Yussef, who had been standing in front of him a long time.

  Apart from his cowardice and lying, Hadji Yussef was truly an excellent man. He was really moved by his friend’s grief; he would have wept, had he known how.

  “Why, what is the matter, my dear Iskander?” he asked.

  “What is the matter yourself? what do you want of me?” demanded Iskander, frowning.

  “I came to tell you that three vessels loaded with grain have arrived, and the people are well pleased. It is good news, Iskander.”

  “If you had come to tell me that three vessels loaded with poison had arrived, the news would be better still.”

  “Oh! oh! it is cloudy weather, is it? Come, tell me what vexes you.”

  “Why should I tell you? As if you did not know already. As if all Derbend did not know, for that matter.”

  “Is it true that Kassime’s mother refuses you for a son-in-law?”

  “Her mother?”

  Iskander burst into a laugh that made Yussef shiver. “Hermother? No; it is that wretch, Festahli,” said he; “but I will kill him!”

  “It is easily seen that you have eaten bread on the mountains, my poor Iskander. It is not difficult to kill a man and run away; but, to the end of life, all thought of returning to one’s native town must be given up. For my part, I advise you to content yourself with a good drubbing; afterwards, you can tranquilly retire to Baku. If you absolutely wish to take a wife, well, you can get married there for three months; it will cost you twenty-five roubles. It is a magnificent invention, especially for travellers, that sort of marriage. I have tried it. I was married one day, just as I am, for six weeks only. I lacked the patience to serve out my time; I ran away at the end of a month. When asleep, I was in constant fear lest my wife should bite off my nose, she was so crabbed and spiteful. Try it, and I will wager that on your return you will bring me a present by way of thanks.”

  Iskander continued pensive and silent.

  “My dear heart, my handsome lily, my proud palm, Iskander,” resumed Hadji Yussef, “do you not hear me? are your ears full of water? A bride! i’ faith, a little matter that, a bride! Take a handful of roubles, go and show them in the Derbend market, crying, ‘A bride! a bride!’ and brides will flock around you like chickens.”

  Iskander still maintained silence.

  “But what is there about it, then, to grieve you so, Iskander. The devil! that Kassime of yours is no star.

  In the first place, one of her eyes is larger than the other, and then she is so black that she will ruin you in the one item of Spanish white. I can even add that she is slightly hump-backed. Don’t contradict me, I know her, I have seen her.”

  Iskander heard this time; he seized Yussef by the throat.

  “You have seen her! Where have you seen her? how did you see her? when? in what place did you dare raise your basilisk eyes to her? Why don’t you answer me, wretch?”

  “How can I answer you? you are choking me! Oh! in Allah’s name, let me go! Can’t you see that I am joking? You know very well that I keep my eyes in my pockets, and my pockets have no holes, thank God! And when could I have seen her, why should I have looked at her? Do I not know that she is the promised bride of my best friend? Never marry, Iskander; you are really too jealous for a man that is on good terms with the Russians. You would be obliged to stand guard all night, and to spy all day upon those who came to visit you. For that matter, I cannot see how they manage, these devils of Russians; they are not in the city ten days before they have already made friends with every one of our beauties. You know Mullah Kasim? — — bless God; but he is jealous, that fellow; well, he bought himself a charming wife. As he had paid dearly enough for her, he determined to keep her to himself. His wife had but one friend in the world, — a woman could not have less. Three times a week the friend came to Mullah Kasim’s house; he himself conducted her to his wife and stood guard at the gate, lest the two women should come upon the balcony and look down into the street. Do you know who that friend was? It was a young Eussian ensign who had as yet no beard.”

  Iskander clutched Yussef’s arm, but not in anger this time.

  “A man dressed as a woman?” said he. “Yes, that might really be possible indeed. Thanks for your story, Yussef; it is very amusing.”

  “That is right. Well, now that you are in a better humor, I will leave you. I have a heap of business. This evening I represent the French ambassador at Yazid’s court. I must try on my tight trousers; I am afraid I shall not be able to get into them. May the devil make himself a jacket of a Russian’s skin for having thought of inventing these damned pantaloons! Now, if I meet a cock, he may as well stand still, — I shall get his tail for a plume. You will see, Iskander, how haughty I shall be when I appear on the scene. Every soldier greets me with: ‘We hope you are in good health, your Highness.9 Adieu! I have no time to lose if I wish to be admitted.”

  And Yussef departed, throwing the sleeves of his tchouka back over his shoulders, that he might walk the faster.

  Iskander sat alone, pensive, but smiling in his revery. The anecdote related by Yussef had given rise, in the midst of his garrulity, to an idea which was nothing less than to take advantage of the fête which they were then celebrating, — a kind of Mussulman carnival, — to disguise himself as a woman and approach Kassime.

  Let us say forthwith that nothing adapts itself to such a disguise more readily than the Tartar costume, with its wide trousers, arkalouke, and immense veil.’

  After he had decided upon this step, Iskander ceased to despair.

  “Ah, I shall see her,” said he, “and she shall be mine! Then, Festahli, you shall know what it means to awaken a tiger. Kassime, Kassime, expect Iskander, even if the road between us were paved with daggers!”

  And, on the instant, Iskander set off for the bazaar, and purchased a woman’s complete costume, pretending that it was a present for his fiancée.

  Returning home, he despatched his noukar, whose indiscretion he feared, to the meadow with the horses; then, as soon as the noukar was gone, he shaved off all his beard, which, for the matter of that was barely beginning to grow; he stained his eyelids, painted his brows, put on some rouge and donned the trousers, arkalouke and veil; he practised the gait of the Tartar women in his new costume, retaining his bechemette so that he might be in masculine attire in case of necessity for attack or defence.

  He awaited the evening impatiently; but the day, like a rich uncle, could not make up its mind to die.

  At last, the gong beat for prayer, and the theatre was lighted.

  Then Iskander placed on his cheeks two indispensable little spangles of gold, slipped his kandjiar into his girdle on one side and his pistol on the other, enveloped himself from head to foot in an immense white veil, and set out, carrying a little lantern in his hand.

  At the end of a quarter of an hour, Kassime issued forth with two friends; all three were on their way to see the religious drama which was being enacted at Derbend in honor of the death of Hussein, and which very much resembles the Mysteries which the Brothers of the Passion used to perform in France during the Middle Ages.

  Both streets and public squares were full of people afoot and on horses; for it is remarkable that at out-of-door performances in the Orient, no matter how crowded the spectators may be, at least a third of them is on horseback. This third circulates about, goes and comes without concerning itself as to the feet it crushes or the shoulders it injures. It is the pedestrian’s business to get out of the way and take care of himself. His only due is the Circassian warning, “Kabarda! Karbarda!” uttered from time to time, and equivalent to our own “look out, there!”

  The house-tops, the only points inaccessible to the horsemen, were covered with women enveloped in long veils of every color.

  The play had not yet begun. Upon the stage fitted up for the presentation of “Yazid,” the name of the tragedy, Mullah Sédek, between two other Mussulmans, was reading the prologue, and, at the pathetic places, he interrupted himself to cry to the spectators, “Weep and wail, O ye people!” The people responded to the apostrophe with groans and lamentations.

  Utterly reckless, Iskander, who had followed Kassime, climbed after her up the small staircase which led them to the roof of a house which was already covered by a throng of Moslem women irradiated by numerous torches.

  The women embraced as they met and recognized each other, laughing and talking with ceaseless babble.

  All were richly dressed, and adorned with gold and silver necklaces, and each exhibited to the others, as rival to rival rather than as friend to friend, the finery which she was wearing for the first time.

  One who has had no experience of the Asiatic woman does not know, and never will know, the half of an Asiatic man, should he live with him many years. In the presence of unbelievers, the followers of the prophet eternally wear a mask, and, outside of the harem, the Oriental man never shows to his own brother either the bottom of his heart or the depths of his purse. All nations have the same ruling passion, — that of vaunting their own customs. The Mussulmans are addicted to this more than any other people. If their word is to be accepted, you can regard them every one as saints. According to them, husbands and wives in the performance of their duties walk between the lines of the Koran and never step aside either to right or left. Only within his home does the Mussulman show himself as he is; it is because he has to render no account of his conduct to either wife or children. The wife, contrariwise, is quite free in her husband’s absence. No sooner has she seen the heels of his slippers, than she becomes unrecognizable. Speechless and humble before him, she becomes garrulous, boastful, shameless even before her female companions, with whom she is always sincere, as jealousy exists among the women of the Orient only in matters of costliness of apparel and value of gems.

  Hence arises a double life entirely foreign to that of Europe, whose nature this book will be at least one of the first to signalize and impress, — a life less accessible even to men than to women, because man constantly reveals himself to woman, woman to man, never.

  Now, suppose that in some way, — what way that is not my affair, — suppose that in some way you are in the company of a Moslem woman; suppose that you have penetrated to the bath and listened to her prattle with a friend; that you have entered the harem and seen her romp — it is the only word that presents itself to my pen — romp, I say, with her companions; clearly, you will learn more yourself than a Mussulman would ever tell you, more than he himself will know.

  Judge, then, of Iskander’s astonishment when he found himself surrounded by feminine indiscretions. Lost in a flock of young women, pretty and talkative, — — he who had never spoken to a woman who had not passed her sixtieth year, — his eyes devoured them; he was eager to hear every word that they were saying.

  “Ah, my dear, what a pretty coiffure you have! My stingy old husband has been to Snizily, and he brought me back some embroidered trousers. I am wrong to call him stingy, for he is not so with me; he refuses me nothing that I ask of him. It is true that he is very exacting, and that, for my part, I do just as he wishes.”

  “Do you know, Fatima,” said another, “that my old ape of a husband has taken a second wife at Baku? I began to weep and reproach him. Guess what he answered me? ‘Can I go without rice?9 Oh! I shall have my revenge. He takes a second wife, the old rascal, and is in no condition to observe Saturday with me. Not he, my dear, no. It is incredible, is it not? But that is the way. By the by, do you know that a ukase has been issued in Russia ordering the women to wear trousers? I have myself seen ladies in Derbend with white trousers all embroidered and open-worked.

  — — It was high time! They were scandalous to behold when the wind blew.”

  “Oh! how good that soap is you gave me, my dear Sheker!” said a third; “and how grateful I am to you for it! Fancy, since using that, my skin has become like satin.”

  “Ah, well, yes, she is dead,” a fourth was saying; “he killed her, so much the worse for her. When she fell in love with some one else, she ought to have known how to keep it to herself. As soon as her husband left the house, she went visiting, with a lantern, too. Faith! he killed her in short order.”

  “Ah, my dear,” said a fifth, “how my children worry me! I never saw children grow so fast! To look at them, one would think I was an old woman; and they have sore heads, besides. You understand; I have never had a pimple myself; it comes from their father.”

  “Ah! your little children may trouble you with their heads, but mine trouble me with their hearts. Mégely torments me beyond measure; he will give me no peace until I buy him a wife.”

  “Ah well, buy one for the boy; he is tall and old enough to have a wife. I saw him pass just yesterday.”

  “You are a silly one, you are! You talk as if a wife called for two kopecks. A wife costs something. Where shall I get the money, pray?”

  “Ah!” cried a sixth, “what a shame! and you say, my dear, that she is with an Armenian? Are there no more Mussulmans or Russians, then?”

  “How kind my husband is! if you but knew,” said a seventh; “and he is so handsome! he might be taken for the prophet himself, and although large — ”

  Iskander listened so intently that he almost forgot why he was there. Rut the cries, “They are beginning! they are beginning!” put an end to all chattering.

  Each turned to the stage and gave her attention to the play. Yazid, in red caftan and green turban, was seated on his throne. Below him, at his left, standing on the fourth step of his throne, was the European ambassador, represented by Yussef in a fantastic costume, whose conspicuous features consisted of a three-cornered hat surmounted by an immense plume, an enormous sword, and spurs six inches long.

  Yazid’s suite, composed of white-turbaned supernumeraries, formed a semi-circle about his throne.

  But not Yazid’s self upon his throne, not the magnificent white-turbaned suite, produced an effect to be compared with that of Yussef, with a hat that would not keep its balance on his shaven pate, a sword he knew not where to put, and spurs that tore the trousers of the noblest and gravest lords of Yazid’s court.

  But what especially excited great hilarity among the men, and the liveliest discussion among the women, was that gigantic nose and that colossal plume.

  “Oh, look, sister,” said a little girl of rank, “look at that creature beside Yazid! What kind of beast does he represent?”