The Collected Works of P. C. Wren: Complete Beau Geste Series, Novels & Short Stories. P. C. Wren
the tent and soon returned, leading a pariah-dog on a string, and carrying an earthenware bowl of water.
Producing a phial from beneath his sash, the Vizier poured what looked like milk into the bowl. The slave set it before the dog, and retired from the tent. Evidently the matter had been arranged beforehand. . . .
As such dogs invariably do, this one gulped the water greedily.
The imperturbable Arabs, chin on hand, watched.
Scarcely had the dog swallowed the last of the water, when it sneezed, gave a kind of choking howl, staggered, and fell.
In less than a minute it was dead. I admit that it seemed to die fairly painlessly.
I rose again, quickly produced the Treaty from the back of my map-case, and got sealing-wax and matches from my bag. . . .
"Sign the Treaty," I said, "and let me go." . . .
* * *
The Emir, smiling scornfully, signed with my fountain-pen, and sealed with a great old ring that bore cabalistic designs and ancient Arabic lettering.
The Vizier, grinning cheerfully, witnessed the signature--both making a jumbled mass of Arabic scratchings which were their "marks" rather than legible signatures. . . . I could understand the Emir's contempt, but not the obvious joy of the Vizier.
Again the Emir clapped his hands. R'Orab the Crow entered, and the dog and the bowl were removed.
"Bring us tea," said the Emir; and, returning, the slave brought four steaming cups of mint tea, inevitable accompaniment of any "ceremony."
Into one the Emir poured the remainder of the contents of the phial and passed it to me.
"We would have drunk together," he said, "you drinking that cup--and we would have wished prosperity and happiness to the Sitts. 'May each marry the man she loves,' we would have said, and you would have died like a brave man. . . . Now cast the poison on the ground, O Seller of Women, and take this other cup. Drink tea with us--to the prosperity of our alliance with France instead."
And beneath the smiling eyes of the Emir and the fierce stare of the Vizier, I said in Arabic: "The Treaty is signed and witnessed, Emir!" and in my own mother-tongue I cried: "Happiness to my Lady, and success to my Country," and, rising to my feet, I drank off the poisoned cup--clutched at my throat--tried to speak and choked . . . remembered Suleiman the Strong and tried to tell the Emir of his presence and his threat . . . choked . . . choked . . . saw the tent, the lamp, the men, whirl round me and dissolve--and knew I was falling, falling--falling through interstellar space into Eternity--and, as I did so, was aware that the two Arabs sprang to their feet. . . . Blind, and dying, I heard a woman scream. . . . I . . .
Note
Thus abruptly ends the autobiography of Major Henri de Beaujolais--which he began long after leaving the Great Oasis and the society of the Emir el Hamel el Kebir and his Wazir (or Vizier).
The abrupt ending of his literary labours, at the point of so dramatic a crisis in his affairs, was not due to his skill as a cunning writer, so much as to the skill of a Riffian tribesman as a cunning sniper.
Major de Beaujolais, being guilty of the rashness of writing in a tent, by the light of a lamp, paid the penalty, and the said tribesman's bullet found its billet in his wrist-watch and arm, distributing the works of the former throughout the latter, and rendering him incapable of wielding either pen or sword for a considerable period. . . .
* * *
It happens, however, that the compiler of this book is in a position to augment the memoirs of his friend, whom he has called Henri de Beaujolais, and to shed some light upon the puzzling situation. Paradoxically, the light came from dark places--the hearts and mouths of two Bad Men. Their wicked lips completed the story, and it is herein after set forth.
* * *
The narrative which follows opens at a date a few years previous to the visit of Major de Beaujolais to the Great Oasis.
PART II. SUCCESS
THE MAKING OF A MONARCH
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF
TWO BAD MEN
"Love rules the camp, the court, the grove,
And men below, and saints above,
For Love is Heaven, and Heaven is Love."
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