Mr. Isaacs | Page 4

his
dental consonants, he certainly might be an Italian. Being myself a
native of Italy, though an American by parentage, I addressed him in

the language, feeling comparatively sure of his answer. To my surprise,
and somewhat to my confusion, he answered in two words of modern
Greek--"[Greek: _den enoêsa_]"--"I do not understand." He evidently
supposed I was speaking a Greek dialect, and answered in the one
phrase of that tongue which he knew, and not a good phrase at that.
"Pardon me," said I in English, "I believed you a countryman, and
ventured to address you in my native tongue. May I inquire whether
you speak English?"
I was not a little astonished when he answered me in pure English, and
with an evident command of the language. We fell into conversation,
and I found him pungent, ready, impressive, and most entertaining,
thoroughly acquainted with Anglo-Indian and English topics, and
apparently well read. An Indian dinner is a long affair, so that we had
ample time to break the ice, an easy matter always for people who are
not English, and when, after the fruit, he invited me to come down and
smoke with him in his rooms, I gladly availed myself of the
opportunity. We separated for a few moments, and I despatched my
servant to the manager of the hotel to ascertain the name of the strange
gentleman who looked like an Italian and spoke like a fellow of Balliol.
Having discovered that he was a "Mr. Isaacs," I wended my way
through verandahs and corridors, preceded by a chuprassie and
followed by my pipe-bearer, till I came to his rooms.
The fashion of the hookah or narghyle in India has long disappeared
from the English portion of society. Its place has been assumed and
usurped by the cheroot from Burmah or Trichinopoli, by the cigarette
from Egypt, or the more expensive Manilla and Havana cigars. I,
however, in an early burst of Oriental enthusiasm, had ventured upon
the obsolete fashion, and so charmed was I by the indolent aromatic
enjoyment I got from the rather cumbrous machine, that I never gave it
up while in the East. So when Mr. Isaacs invited me to come and
smoke in his rooms, or rather before his rooms, for the September air
was still warm in the hills, I ordered my "bearer" to bring down the
apparatus and to prepare it for use. I myself passed through the glass
door in accordance with my new acquaintance's invitation, curious to

see the kind of abode in which a man who struck me as being so unlike
his fellows spent his summer months. For some minutes after I entered
I did not speak, and indeed I hardly breathed. It seemed to me that I
was suddenly transported into the subterranean chambers whither the
wicked magician sent Aladdin in quest of the lamp. A soft but strong
light filled the room, though I did not immediately comprehend whence
it came, nor did I think to look, so amazed was I by the extraordinary
splendour of the objects that met my eyes. In the first glance it
appeared as if the walls and the ceiling were lined with gold and
precious stones; and in reality it was almost literally the truth. The
apartment, I soon saw, was small,--for India at least,--and every
available space, nook and cranny, were filled with gold and jeweled
ornaments, shining weapons, or uncouth but resplendent idols. There
were sabres in scabbards set from end to end with diamonds and
sapphires, with cross hilts of rubies in massive gold mounting, the spoil
of some worsted rajah or Nawab of the mutiny. There were narghyles
four feet high, crusted with gems and curiously wrought work from
Baghdad or Herat; water flasks of gold and drinking cups of jade;
yataghans from Bourn and idols from the far East. Gorgeous lamps of
the octagonal Oriental shape hung from the ceiling, and, fed by
aromatic oils, shed their soothing light on all around. The floor was
covered with a rich soft pile, and low divans were heaped with cushions
of deep-tinted silk and gold. On the floor, in a corner which seemed the
favourite resting-place of my host, lay open two or three superbly
illuminated Arabic manuscripts, and from a chafing dish of silver near
by a thin thread of snow-white smoke sent up its faint perfume through
the still air. To find myself transported from the conventionalities of a
stiff and starched Anglo-Indian hotel to such a scene was something
novel and delicious in the extreme. No wonder I stood speechless and
amazed. Mr. Isaacs remained near the door while I breathed in the
strange sights to which he had introduced me. At last I turned, and from
contemplating the magnificence of inanimate wealth