Tales of Secret Egypt Part 15

The _imam_ leaped into the room, rebolted the door, and glanced to the right and left; then he ran into the adjoining apartments, and finally, observing the insensible Nubian upon the floor, he stared into my face, and I read anger in the eyes that were wont to be so gentle.

"Did I not enjoin you to prevent his escape from the window?" he cried.

"No one escaped from the window, my friend," I retorted, "except the lady who was occupying the suite."

Ab Tabah fixed his weird eyes upon me in a hypnotic stare of such uncanny power that I was angrily conscious of much difficulty in sustaining it; but gradually the quelling look grew less harsh, and finally his whole expression softened, and that sweet smile, which could so transform his face, disturbed the severity of the set lips.

"No man is infallible," he said. "And wiser than you or I have shown themselves the veriest fools in contest with Omar Ali Khan. But know, O Kernaby Pasha, that the lady who occupied this suite secretly left it at sunset to-night, bearing her jewels with her, and he"--pointing to the insensible Nubian on the floor--"took her place and wore her raiment----"

"Then the Mudir's daughter----"

"Is my sister Ayesha!"

I looked at him reproachfully, but he met my gaze with calm pride.

"Subterfuge was permitted by the Prophet, (on whom be peace)," he continued; "but not lying! My sister _is_ the daughter of the Mudir el-Faym."

It was a rebuke, perhaps a merited one; and I accepted it in silence.

Although, from the moment that I had first set eyes on him, I had never doubted Ab Tabah to be a man of good family, this modest avowal was something of a revelation.

"Her presence here, which was permitted by my father," he said, "was a trap; for it is well known throughout the Moslem world that she is the possessor of costly ornaments. The trap succeeded. Omar of Ispahan, at great risk of discovery, remained to steal her jewels, although he had already ama.s.sed a choice collection."

Someone had begun to bang upon the bolted door, and there was an excited crowd beneath the window.

"You supposed, no doubt," the _imam_ resumed calmly, "that I suspected Major Redpath and M. Balabas, as well as Mr. Chundermeyer and the English detective? It was not so. But I regarded the room of M.

Balabas as excellently situated for Omar's purpose, and I knew that M.

Balabas rarely retired earlier than one o'clock. Even more suitable was that of Major Redpath, whose illness I believe to have been due to some secret art of Omar's."

"But he is down with chronic malaria!"

"It may even be so; yet I believe the attack to have been induced by Omar of Ispahan."

"But why?"

"Because, as I learned to-night, Major Redpath is the only person in Cairo who has ever met Mr. Chundermeyer! I will confess that until less than an hour ago I did not know if Inspector Carlisle was _really_ an inspector! Oh, it is a seeming absurdity; but Omar of Ispahan is a wizard! Therefore I entered the inspector's room, and found him to be still unconscious. Major Redpath was in deep slumber, and Omar had entered and quitted his room without disturbing him. I did likewise, and visited Mr. Chundermeyer's--the door was ajar--on my way downstairs."

"But, my friend," I said amazedly, "with my own eyes I beheld Mr.

Chundermeyer gagged and bound in his wardrobe! I saw his bruised wrists!"

"He gagged, bound, and bruised himself!" replied Ab Tabah calmly.

"With my own eyes I once beheld a blind mendicant hanging by the neck from a fig tree, a b.l.o.o.d.y froth upon his lips. I cut him down and left him for dead. Yet was he neither dead nor a blind mendicant; he was Omar Ali Khan! Oblige me by opening the door, Kernaby Pasha."

I obeyed, and an excited throng burst in, headed by M. Balabas and Inspector Carlisle, the latter looking very pale and haggard!

"Where is the man posing as Chundermeyer?" began the detective hoa.r.s.ely. "By sheer sleight-of-hand, and under ye're very noses"--excitement rendered him weirdly Caledonian--"he has robbed ye! I cabled Madras to-day, and the real Chundermeyer arrived at Amsterdam last Friday! As I returned with the reply cable in my pocket to-night I became so dizzy I was only just able to get to my room.

He'd doctored every smoke in my case! Where is he?"

"I a.s.sisted him to escape, disguised as a woman, some ten minutes ago," I replied feebly. "I should be sincerely indebted to you if you would kick me."

"Escaped!" roared Inspector Carlisle. "Then what are ye doing here?

Pursue him, somebody! Are ye all mad?"

"We should be," said Ab Tabah, "to attempt pursuit. As well pursue the shadow of a cloud, the first spear of sunrise, or the phantom heifer of Pepi-Ankh, as pursue Omar of Ispahan! He is gone--but empty-handed. Behold what I recovered from 'Mr. Chundermeyer's' room."

From beneath his black _gibbeh_ he took out a leather bag, opened it, and displayed to our startled eyes the tiara of Mrs. Van Heysten, the rope of pearls, and--my Hatshepsu scarab!

Ere anyone could utter a word, Ab Tabah inclined his head in dignified salutation, turned, and walked stately from the room.

V

BREATH OF ALLAH

I

For close upon a week I had been haunting the purlieus of the Mski, attired as a respectable dragoman, my face and hands reduced to a deeper shade of brown by means of a water-color paint (I had to use something that could be washed off and grease-paint is useless for purposes of actual disguise) and a neat black moustache fixed to my lip with spirit-gum. In his story _Beyond the Pale_, Rudyard Kipling has trounced the man who inquires too deeply into native life; but if everybody thought with Kipling we should never have had a Lane or a Burton and I should have continued in unbroken scepticism regarding the reality of magic. Whereas, because of the matters which I am about to set forth, for ten minutes of my life I found myself a trembling slave of the unknown.

Let me explain at once that my undignified masquerade was not prompted by mere curiosity or the quest of the pomegranate, it was undertaken as the natural sequel to a letter received from Messrs. Moses, Murphy and Co., the firm which I represented in Egypt, containing curious matters affording much food for reflection. "We would ask you," ran the communication, "to renew your inquiries into the particular composition of the perfume 'Breath of Allah,' of which you obtained us a sample at a cost which we regarded as excessive. It appears to consist in the blending of certain obscure essential oils and gum-resins; and the nature of some of these has defied a.n.a.lysis to date. Over a hundred experiments have been made to discover subst.i.tutes for the missing essences, but without success; and as we are now in a position to arrange for the manufacture of Oriental perfume on an extensive scale we should be prepared to make it _well worth your while_ (the last four words characteristically underlined in red ink) if you could obtain for us a correct copy of the original prescription."

The letter went on to say that it was proposed to establish a separate company for the exploitation of the new perfume, with a registered address in Cairo and a "manufactory" in some suitably inaccessible spot in the Near East.

I pondered deeply over these matters. The scheme was a good one and could not fail to reap considerable profits; for, given extensive advertising, there is always a large and monied public for a new smell. The particular blend of liquid fragrance to which the letter referred was a.s.sured of a good sale at a high price, not alone in Egypt, but throughout the capitals of the world, provided it could be put upon the market; but the proposition of manufacture was beset with extraordinary difficulties.

The tiny vial which I had despatched to Birmingham nearly twelve months before had cost me close upon 100 to procure, for the reason that "Breath of Allah" was the secret property of an old and aristocratic Egyptian family whose great wealth and exclusiveness rendered them unapproachable. By dint of diligent inquiry I had discovered the _attar_ to whom was entrusted certain final processes in the preparation of the perfume--only to learn that he was ignorant of its exact composition. But although he had a.s.sured me (and I did not doubt his word) that not one grain had hitherto pa.s.sed out of the possession of the family, I had succeeded in procuring a small quant.i.ty of the precious fluid.

Messrs. Moses, Murphy and Co. had made all the necessary arrangements for placing it upon the market, only to learn, as this eventful letter advised me, that the most skilled chemists whose services were obtainable had failed to a.n.a.lyse it.

One morning, then, in my a.s.sumed character, I was proceeding along the Sharia el-Hamzawi seeking for some scheme whereby I might win the confidence of Mohammed er-Rahman the _attar_, or perfumer. I had quitted the house in the Darb el-Ahmar which was my base of operations but a few minutes earlier, and as I approached the corner of the street a voice called from a window directly above my head: "Sad!

Sad!"

Without supposing that the call referred to myself, I glanced up, and met the gaze of an old Egyptian of respectable appearance who was regarding me from above. Shading his eyes with a gnarled hand--

"Surely," he cried, "it is none other than Sad the nephew of Yssuf Khalig! _Es-selam 'aleykm, Sad!_"

"_Aleykm, es-selam_," I replied, and stood there looking up at him.

"Would you perform a little service for me, Sad?" he continued.

"It will occupy you but an hour and you may earn five piastres."

"Willingly," I replied, not knowing to what the mistake of this evidently half-blind old man might lead me.

I entered the door and mounted the stairs to the room in which he was, to find that he lay upon a scantily covered _diwan_ by the open window.

"Praise be to Allah (whose name be exalted)!" he exclaimed, "that I am thus fortunately enabled to fulfil my obligations. I sometimes suffer from an old serpent bite, my son, and this morning it has obliged me to abstain from all movement. I am called Abdl the Porter, of whom you will have heard your uncle speak; and although I have long retired from active labor myself, I contract for the supply of porters and carriers of all descriptions and for all purposes; conveying fair ladies to the _hammam_, youth to the bridal, and death to the grave. Now, it was written that you should arrive at this timely hour."

I considered it highly probable that it was also written how I should shortly depart if this garrulous old man continued to inflict upon me details of his absurd career. However--