The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - CompleteParker, Gilbert
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The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - Complete
Parker, Gilbert
Society of Friends -- Fiction
David was about to answer, but chancing to raise his eyes above the
Prince Pasha’s head, his glance was arrested and startled by seeing a
face--the face of a woman-looking out of a panel in a mooshrabieh screen
in a gallery above. He would not have dwelt upon the incident, he would
have set it down to the curiosity of a woman of the harem, but that
the face looking out was that of an English girl, and peering over her
shoulder was the dark, handsome face of an Egyptian or a Turk.
Self-control was the habit of his life, the training of his faith,
and, as a rule, his face gave little evidence of inner excitement.
Demonstration was discouraged, if not forbidden, among the Quakers, and
if, to others, it gave a cold and austere manner, in David it tempered
to a warm stillness the powerful impulses in him, the rivers of feeling
which sometimes roared through his veins.
Only Nahoum Pasha had noticed his arrested look, so motionless did he
sit; and now, without replying, he bowed gravely and deferentially to
Kaid, who rose from the table. He followed with the rest. Presently the
Prince sent Higli Pasha to ask his nearer presence.
The Prince made a motion of his hand, and the circle withdrew. He waved
David to a seat.
“To-morrow thy business shall be settled,” said the Prince suavely, “and
on such terms as will not startle. Death-tribute is no new thing in the
East. It is fortunate for thee that the tribute is from thy hand to my
hand, and not through many others to mine.”
“I am conscious I have been treated with favour, friend,” said David.
“I would that I might show thee kindness. Though how may a man of no
account make return to a great Prince?”
“By the beard of my father, it is easily done, if thy kindness is a
real thing, and not that which makes me poorer the more I have of it--as
though one should be given a herd of horses which must not be sold but
still must be fed.”
“I have given thee truth. Is not truth cheaper than falsehood?”
“It is the most expensive thing in Egypt; so that I despair of buying
thee. Yet I would buy thee to remain here--here at my court; here by my
hand which will give thee the labour thou lovest, and will defend thee
if defence be needed. Thou hast not greed, thou hast no thirst for
honour, yet thou hast wisdom beyond thy years. Kaid has never besought
men, but he beseeches thee. Once there was in Egypt, Joseph, a wise
youth, who served a Pharaoh, and was his chief counsellor, and it was
well with the land. Thy name is a good name; well-being may follow thee.
The ages have gone, and the rest of the world has changed, but Egypt is
the same Egypt, the Nile rises and falls, and the old lean years and fat
years come and go. Though I am in truth a Turk, and those who serve
and rob me here are Turks, yet the fellah is the same as he was five
thousand years ago. What Joseph the Israelite did, thou canst do; for
I am no more unjust than was that Rameses whom Joseph served. Wilt thou
stay with me?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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