The Old Tobacco Shop Part 30

CHAPTER XXII

SIX ENCHANTED SOULS

"This is my great-great-grandfather," said the young man.

The room in which they stood was hung about on all the walls with rare and beautiful rugs, and similar rugs covered the floor. Richly embroidered cus.h.i.+ons and delicate silk and cashmere shawls lay on the few easy chairs that were disposed about the room. The bowl of the hanging lamp, above the table, was of bits of amber and orange and ruby gla.s.s, through which shone a subdued and mellow light. Near the ceiling were three or four small openings, covered with iron gratings, and the air in the apartment was pure, except for the odour of tobacco. The figure on the divan was smoking a pipe; a water-pipe, whose long flexible stem reached to the floor, where its bowl rested.

s.h.i.+raz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes. His skin was very dark, and shriveled and wrinkled like the skin of a dried apple. His cheek-bones seemed as if about to break through his cheeks, and his lips were stretched back from his teeth, which were black and broken. His hands were like the claws of a bird. Thin white hair straggled over his tight dark scalp. He wore a robe of some soft material, harmoniously mottled upon a ground of maroon, and on his feet were slippers of red morocco, pointed upwards at the toes. His turban lay upon the table beside him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: s.h.i.+raz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors with little beady black eyes.]

He was the smallest man the strangers had ever seen. After a searching look at them with his beady eyes, he rose from the divan, laid down the stem of his pipe, and stood up. He was not taller than Freddie. As he stood by the divan, looking up at his visitors, he seemed indeed a mere mummy of a man, likely to fall to pieces at a breath of air.

"You are welcome," he said, in a voice surprisingly strong. "I perceive that you have come from a great distance. Permit me to inquire what errand has brought you to your servant's poor habitation."

"I reckon we want to buy something," said Toby. "I don't know what, exactly, but a chap by the name of Higginson, Captain Reuben Higginson, he give us the direction, as you might say."

"Ah, yes," said s.h.i.+raz the Persian. "I remember him very well. I was sorry to learn of his misfortune. An excellent man; a member of some strange sect----"

"A Quaker," said Toby. "The paper he left said we might buy something here, and here we are, ready to buy."

"I have long since retired from the rug business," said s.h.i.+raz, "but I have brought with me here, as you may see, some of my choicest treasures, as a slight solace in my seclusion." He glanced towards the rugs on the walls. "I am reluctant to part with any of them, but I am willing to make an exception, in view of your having made so long a journey to see me. My son," said he to the young man, "bring hither the Omar prayer-rug."

The young man took from one of the walls a small rug, and laid it at the feet of s.h.i.+raz.

"You will immediately perceive," said the Persian, "the extreme beauty of this rug. It is one of my rarest treasures. It is a prayer-rug from the mosque of Omar at Isfahan; a Kalicheh of cut-pile fabric, with the Sehna knot, as I need not tell you; made in Kurdistan three hundred years ago; observe, if you please, the delicacy of the design and the harmony of the colouring. Its possession is as a spring of water to the desert Bedouin; as a palm with dates on the road to Mecca; as a word to the believer from the mouth of the Prophet. Its price, to those who have journeyed across the sea to buy it, is twelve copper pennies."

The Sly Old Fox stooped down and examined it. His eyes lit up with pleasure. "Beautiful!" said he. "I have never seen a rug more beautiful; it is a real work of--of--I will take it. At twelve pennies. It is mine."

"No, no!" said Aunt Amanda. "You'll do nothing of the kind. It is certainly the finest piece of carpet I have ever seen, and the price is low enough, in all conscience. But we are not going to buy it. I am sorry, sir, but we can't buy your rug. Show us something else."

s.h.i.+raz displayed his teeth more plainly than ever in a sly smile.

"Your servant is desolated," he replied. "I crave your pardon for showing a trifle so far beneath your notice. My son, take it away. If your excellencies will deign to overlook my error, I will produce an article more worthy of your attention. This time I promise myself the ecstasy of your approval."

"Pretty good line of talk," whispered Toby in Mr. Punch's ear.

"My son," continued s.h.i.+raz, "bring hither the Wis.h.i.+ng Rug."

The young man took away the prayer-rug, and brought another from the wall; a much larger one, large enough, indeed, for twenty people to stand on. It was dingy and frayed, and in no way beautiful like the other.

"A rug of the Tomb of Rustam," said s.h.i.+raz, "gained by the hero in battle from the genie Akhnavid. It is the last of the Wis.h.i.+ng Rugs. Its property is, that it will transport to the farthest regions of the earth, in the twinkling of an eye, those who sit upon it and but name aloud the place of their desire. Excellencies," he said, addressing his visitors very earnestly, "if it is your wish to return home, the moment has arrived; you have only to sit upon this rug and wish yourselves at home, and you will find yourselves there, safe and sound, before the words shall have well left your lips. And the price is only twenty pennies."

Every one of the party hesitated. A vision of the Old Tobacco Shop entered each mind. It had never seemed so cozy, so quiet, so secure as at that moment. How or when they would ever get there, in the natural course of events, no one knew. If they did not seize this opportunity, they might be lost forever. It was a chance such as they could scarcely have hoped for.

"Could we take our belongings with us?" said the Sly Old Fox.

"All that can be piled on the rug," said s.h.i.+raz.

"Then I will buy it," said the Sly Old Codger. "I do not consider twenty pennies too much for such a rug. The rug is mine."

"It's nothing of the sort," said Aunt Amanda, waking from deep thought.

"n.o.body's going to buy the rug. I'm captain of this expedition, and my orders is, to wait and see what's going to happen next. I'm sorry, sir, but the rug ain't exactly what we want. You must show us something else."

The Rug-Merchant appeared greatly mortified. "I do not know how I could have made such a mistake," he said. "I should have known that these little trifles could not interest you. I trust you will believe that I meant no offense. I fear there is nothing in my poor collection which merits your notice. Permit me to wish you a safe journey. Do you intend to remain long in the City of Towers?"

"That won't do," said Toby. "You must show us something else."

The Rug-Merchant looked intently at Aunt Amanda. "You command it?" said he.

"I do," said she.

"To hear is to obey," said s.h.i.+raz. "I tremble to think how contemptible are the baubles I shall now offer you, but I trust you will not be angry with your servant." He turned to the young man, and spoke to him in an unknown tongue. "Be not offended, excellencies," he went on, "by your poor servant's ignorance in the art of pleasing."

The young man disappeared behind one of the hanging rugs, and in a moment returned with certain small objects, which he stood upon the table in a row. They were eight hour-gla.s.ses, of a very ordinary kind, much like those already seen in the booth outside. The sand in each one was wholly in the upper gla.s.s, and was just beginning to trickle down into the lower. The strangers were obviously disappointed.

"I fear your displeasure," said s.h.i.+raz, "but apart from my trifling rugs, these are all I have to offer."

"And what," said the Sly Old Fox, "what may be the price of these interesting objects?"

"The price," said s.h.i.+raz, fixing his beady eyes on Aunt Amanda, "the price is this and nothing less: your treasure on the mules outside; your share of the treasure on the mules."

Everyone gasped. The treasure which they had gone through so many perils to secure, for these indifferent trinkets! A life of ease and plenty for an hour-gla.s.s!

"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Excuse me for saying it, but the--er--price appears to be a little bit high."

"It is too high for me," said the Sly Old Fox, positively. "I regret to say it, but I am compelled to withdraw; I cannot go on at such a figure. Please consider me out of it."

"And--er--me too," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.

"Well," said Toby, doubtfully, "it's a blamed hard thing to give up all that treasure for one of these here little toys. I don't see my way clear to doing it. What do you say, Aunt Amanda?"

"I'll do it," said Aunt Amanda, looking at s.h.i.+raz, whose eyes were still on her. "I've come all this way to do it, and I'll do it. I ain't going to back out now at the last minute. My mind's made up. Mr. s.h.i.+raz, I'll buy an hour-gla.s.s."

"By crackey," said Toby, "then I will too. What about you, Freddie?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Freddie.

"Hi'll 'ave one myself," said Mr. Punch.

"After due consideration," said the Churchwarden, "I think I will buy one also."

Mr. Hanlon nodded a vigorous a.s.sent.

The two Old Codgers, however, were firm in their refusal. They could not be persuaded. They retired from the enterprise then and there.