Part 42 (2/2)
”Yes.”
”Didn't you believe it?”
”I--felt there was something else, beside.”
”There was!” Saidee confessed. ”You know now--at least you know part. I was jealous. I am still--but I'm ashamed of myself. I'm sick with shame.
And I do love you!”
”Of course--of course you do, darling.”
”But--there's somebody else I love. A man. And I couldn't bear to think he might see you, because you're so much younger and fresher than I.”
”You mean--Ca.s.sim?”
”No. Not Ca.s.sim.”
Silence fell between the two. Victoria did not speak; and suddenly Saidee was angry with her for not speaking.
”If you're shocked, I won't go on,” she said. ”You can't help me by preaching.”
”I'm not shocked,” the girl protested. ”Only sorry--so sorry. And even if I wanted to preach, I don't know how.”
”There's nothing to be shocked about,” Saidee said, her tears dry, her voice hard as it had been at first. ”I've seen him three times. I've talked with him just once. But we love each other. It's the first and only real love of my life. I was too young to know, when I met Ca.s.sim.
That was a fascination. I was in love with romance. He carried me off my feet, in spite of myself.”
”Then, dearest Saidee, don't let yourself be carried off your feet a second time.”
”Why not?” Saidee asked, sharply. ”What incentive have I to be true to Ca.s.sim?”
”I'm not thinking about Ca.s.sim. I'm thinking of you. All one's world goes to pieces so, if one isn't true to oneself.”
”_He_ says I can't be true to myself if I stay here. He doesn't consider that I'm Ca.s.sim's wife. I _thought_ myself married, but was I, when he had a wife already? Would any lawyer, or even clergyman, say it was a legal marriage?”
”Perhaps not,” Victoria admitted. ”But----”
”Just wait, before you go on arguing,” Saidee broke in hotly, ”until I've told you something you haven't heard yet. Ca.s.sim has another wife now--a lawful wife, according to his views, and the views of his people.
He's had her for a year. She's a girl of the Ouled Nal tribe, brought up to be a dancer. But Ca.s.sim saw her at Touggourt, where he'd gone on one of his mysterious visits. He doesn't dream that I know the whole history of the affair, but I do, and have known, since a few days after the creature was brought here as his bride. She's as ignorant and silly as a kitten, and only a child in years. She told her 'love story' to one of her negresses, who told Noura--who repeated it to me. Perhaps I oughtn't to have listened, but why not?”
Victoria did not answer. The clouds round Saidee and herself were dark, but she was trying to see the blue beyond, and find the way into it, with her sister.
”She's barely sixteen now, and she's been here a year,” Saidee went on.
”She hadn't begun to dance yet, when Ca.s.sim saw her, and took her away from Touggourt. Being a great saint is very convenient. A marabout can do what he likes, you know. Mussulmans are forbidden to touch alcohol, but if a marabout drinks wine, it turns to milk in his throat. He can fly, if he wants to. He can even make French cannon useless, and withdraw the bullets from French guns, in case of war, if the spirit of Allah is with him. So by marrying a girl brought up for a dancer, daughter of generations of dancing women, he washes all disgrace from her blood, and makes her a female saint, worthy to live eternally. The beautiful Miluda's a marabouta, if you please, and when her baby is taken out by the negress who nurses it, silly, bigoted people kneel and kiss its clothing.”
”She has a baby!” murmured Victoria.
”Yes, only a girl, but better than nothing--and she hopes to be more fortunate next time. She isn't jealous of me, because I've no children, not even a girl, and because for that reason Ca.s.sim could repudiate me if he chose. She little knows how desperately I wish he would. She believes--Noura says--that he keeps me here only because I have no people to go to, and he's too kind-hearted to turn me out alone in the world, when my youth's past. You see--she thinks me already old--at twenty-eight! Of course the real reason that Ca.s.sim shuts me up and won't let me go, is because he knows I could ruin not only him, but the hopes of his people. Miluda doesn't dream that I'm of so much importance in his eyes. The only thing she's jealous of is the boy, Mohammed, who's at school in the town of Oued Tolga, in charge of an uncle. Ca.s.sim guesses how Miluda hates the child, and I believe that's the reason he daren't have him here. He's afraid something might happen, although the excuse he makes is, that he wants his boy to learn French, and know something of French ways. That pleases the Government--and as for the Arabs, no doubt he tells them it's only a trick to keep French eyes shut to what's really going on, and to his secret plans. Now, do you still say I ought to consider myself married to Ca.s.sim, and refuse to take any happiness if I can get it?”
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