At first sight of her father, Fatima felt a sudden relief. Sidi Abd-er-Rahman, healthy and well set-up, went straight to his young daughter and embraced her with true fatherly heartiness.
“You are grown!” he exclaimed, “and you are prettier than ever! I am proud of you, O Fatima!”
She flushed with pleasure. Such a flush is the one thing needed in a little Arab girl to make her beauty perfect.
Sidi Abd-er-Rahman instantly remembered the boy Abdullah.
The next morning, when Fatima was ready to go off with her aunt to the Turkish baths, Sidi Abd-er-Rahman was shocked to see her unveiled. Her little snow-white haik, indeed, was drawn over her head, quite hiding the orange silk handkerchief which in its turn hid the dark curls beneath its tight-drawn folds.
“What!” he exclaimed,” you don’t wear the ajar! It is high time to put it on. See here, Aiccha, this girl must not go in the streets unveiled!”
“So I say,” replied her aunt, “and I have said so to herself, but she would not wear it. She said, that you said she was only a little one.”
“That was months ago,” said Sidi Abd-er-Rahman. “Look here, binti, I will buy you some of the very finest muslin and lace, and you will make one for yourself. Do me the favor,” he said to Aiccha, “to lend her one for today.”
So for the first time, the thin muslin handkerchief, that means so much, was stretched across the little girl’s face, leaving only the beautiful eyes visible, and tied firmly at the back of her head.
Fatima was not surprised, though it gave her a sudden shock, that her father had insisted on her beginning to wear the veil. And now the worse thing happened. She was no longer allowed to attend the classes at the mission. It was the old story; she was too big to be seen in the streets; in a few years, she would be married; she must now stay at home, and, presently, she would begin to work at her trousseau. But behind all this, was Sidi Abd-er-Rahman’s determination to prevent his daughter’s becoming a Christian. He saw clearly that with Fatima’s intelligence, and the Bible teaching she had received at the English house, she could never be a good Moslem, if she were left in the ignorance of Islam common to most Arab women. No, she must learn to read the Koran, and its doctrines, to some extent, must be explained to her. Sidi Abd-er-Rahman had come back from Mecca with a new religious zeal, and was eager to teach his daughter, while her mind was still young and impressionable, the tenets of his faith.
He had read somewhere, and was inclined to believe, that no nation can hope to rise above the level of its women, and he saw in Fatima the makings of a woman able to influence others of her sex, and perhaps even the men-folk of her future family. In the hands of such women lay, he felt, the power to bring back the golden days of Islam.
And so the bright child-life passed into the shadow of seclusion which is still the lot of millions of Moslem women.
Next to Sidi Abd-er-Rahman and his daughter, there was perhaps no one connected with the mission, for whom more prayer was made, or on whom higher hopes were set, than Abdullah ben Abdullah. Lalla Christabel, always looking eagerly for one who would stand out as a leader to bring his fellow-Moslems to Christ, could not help feeling that the divine choice had fallen upon this boy.
At the Bible talks, his eye was always bright, his answering quick and to the point. But look as she would, Lalla Christabel could not see in him the slightest sign of that inward struggle which sets in when the soul realizes that to accept Christ means also to break with Islam; that the new wine, if put into old wine-skins, can only burst them, and itself be spilled and lost.
His very frankness baffled her. She would not force his confidence, but waited till he should give her the opening she longed for, to press home the truth to his personal consciousness. Meanwhile, the time was drawing near that Abdullah should leave school, and enter on his college course at the university of Paris.
One day, Lalla Christabel was speaking to the boys about the rich young ruler, who went away from Christ sorrowful because he had great possessions. As her eyes rested on one or another of the young strong faces before her, and especially on that of Abdullah, she pleaded with them, to whom so much had been given of natural power and promise, to come now to the Savior who alone could save, and could make out of each individual life the very best. Suddenly, she saw Abdullah’s eyes fill with tears.
He waited for her after the class. His whole aspect was changed. All the bright insouciance was gone from his face, and he was deeply moved. All the cumulative teaching of the past months seemed to have burst in upon his consciousness.
“Oh, what should I do?” he exclaimed passionately. “I am like that young ruler. I will have great possessions. I will see life and the world. I will learn the secrets of nature and medicine, to bring healing to my people. But if I now confess Christ, all is over. My father will disinherit me, and I will be cast on the streets. What will become of my future? How will I ever be able, as a wanderer and an outcast, to benefit mankind?”
“The Son of Man,” she replied gently, had “not where to lay His head.”
“Oh, Lalla Christabel,” cried the boy, and the storm in his soul seemed to subside, “You have never told me, but I know you gave up the certainty of earthly fame and honor, yes and all your earthly hopes, to follow Him!”
A faint flush came upon his friend’s face. “Jesus beholding him, loved him,” said Lalla Christabel, still so very gently. “I am sure, Abdullah, you will never forget that look.”
There was silence for a few moments. Then, Abdullah spoke. The flush had died from his face and a look of hopelessness came over him. “If it were only my father!” he said with a sigh. “But he is about to marry again, and the bride and all her family are the strictest Moslems.”
“And who is the bride?” asked Lalla Christabel.
“Rucheia bent Ahmed, the sister of Saleh, the brother-in-law of my father’s friend, Sidi Abd-er-Rahman!”
This wedding took place as arranged. Abdullah the younger, though he was obliged to share in the merry-makings which preceded it, felt little interest in them. This was the third wedding of his father that he could remember. Possibly such events were ceasing to be events in his eyes. But his mind was full of the prospect of going to Paris, and his thoughts, it must be confessed, ran rather on the subject of clothes!
Already he pictured himself, dressed as a Frenchman, in a fur coat and great leather gloves, motoring through the snowy streets of that wonderful Paris. What a change from the sunny Moorish villa, with its waving palms and rose gardens!
If Abdullah’s heart remained cold towards the marriage of his father, it was far otherwise with Saleh, the brother of the bride. Saleh had had a great deal to do with bringing about the match. Always on the lookout to strengthen the cause of Islam, he saw the advantage of uniting his family with that of Abdullah ben Acchour, for on his own side there was the religious influence of a long line of marabouts, and, on the other, great wealth, and favor in the eyes of the French Government.
The wedding being over, Saleh now became a frequent guest at Dar-el-Ouarda, and now it was that he began cunningly and skillfully to work for another end which he had long had in view.
He knew that Abdullah the younger was attending the classes at the House of the English; and fearing lest the boy, now so closely connected with his own family, should become a Christian, he determined to spy on him, and find some excuse to stop him going there. He therefore employed a youth, of the name of Ibrahim, to join Lalla Christabel’s Bible Class, under pretense of wishing also to read the gospel.
Ibrahim’s eyes were sharp, and so was his appetite for the substantial sum promised him by Saleh, should his mission be successful. He soon found out that Abdullah had private talks with Lalla Christabel. It was only a step further to catch snatches of what was said, by listening at the crack of the door; and, this accomplished, Ibrahim informed Saleh of the conversations, as well as other trifling matters; adding a few details from his own imagination, and, finally, assuring Saleh that he was quite right, and that Abdullah, if not already a Christian, was certainly on the way to becoming one.
Saleh’s next step was to invite himself to stay for a time at Dar-el-Ouarda, on the pleas of ill-health, and the hope that the change of air would do him good. Once there, he saw a good deal both of the elder Abdullah and the bride, his own sister Rucheia. It was not hard for Saleh and Rucheia, united in aim and of strong personality, to persuade the old man to interfere in his son’s movements, and to do all in his power to keep him from leaving the ranks of Islam.
Abdullah’s father was easier to influence than Sidi Abd-er-Rahman had been. Abd-er-Rahman had a strong underlying moral sense, which had been trained by Lalla Christabel as well as by the reading of Christian books. The character of the older Abdullah had no such foundation. His conscience had long been dulled by self-indulgence. With this slackness of morals, he combined a religious habit which made him keep strictly to the Moslem ritual of prayer, almsgiving and the rest; and a desire to be well thought of which made him abhor the idea of his son’s breaking with the society of Islam, as Saleh now persuaded him was only too likely to happen.
In order to prevent this, Saleh argued that Abdullah should at once marry his son to a Moslem girl and suggested his own niece, Fatima, the daughter of Abd-er-Rahman. As she had now for several years been kept from all Christian teaching, and had been instructed in the Moslem religion, Saleh considered her a safe wife for the young Abdullah.
He thought it best, however, to leave the arranging of this matter to Rucheia. It was enough that he had brought about the first linking of the two families; he did not wish his brother-in-law to suspect him of working for his own ends in the affair. But Rucheia’s influence over her husband at this time seemed to know no bounds.