The Lion of Petra | Page 9

lot. De
Crespigny addressed her as Princess, and she may have really ranked as
one for all I know.
She sat on a chair, rather awkwardly, as if not used to it, and we stared

at her like a row of owls, she studying us in return, quite unabashed.
The Badawi don't wear veils, and are not in the least ashamed to air
their curiosity. She stared uncommonly hard at Grim.
Of middle height, supple and slender, with the grace of all outdoors,
smiling with a dignity that did not challenge and yet seemed to arm her
against impertinence, not very dark, except for her long eyelashes--I
have seen Italians and Greeks much darker--she somewhat resembled
the American Indian, only that her face was more mobile.
Part of her beauty was sheer art, contrived by the cunning arrangement
of the shawl on her head, and kohl on her eyelashes. That young
woman knew every trick of deportment down to the outward thrust of a
shapely bare foot in an upturned Turkish slipper. Her clothing was
linen, not black cotton that Bedouin women usually wear, and much of
it was marvelously hand-embroidered; but all the jewelry she wore was
a necklace made of gold coins. It gave a finishing touch of opulence
that is the crown of finished art.
But it was her eyes that took your breath away, and she was perfectly
aware of it; she used them as the desert does all its weapons, frankly
and without reluctance, sparing no consideration for the weak--rather
looking for weakness to take advantage of it. They were wise--dark,
deadly wise--alight with youth, and yet amazingly acquainted with all
evil that is older than the world. She was obviously not in the least
afraid of us.
"You are from El-Maan?" asked de Crespigny, and she nodded.
"Did you come all this way alone?"
"No woman travels the desert alone."
"Tell me how you got here."
"You know how I got here. I came with a caravan that carried
wheat--the wife of the sheikh of the caravan consenting."

She spoke the clean concrete Arabic of the desert, that has a distinct
word for everything, and for every phase of everything --another
speech altogether from the jargon of the towns.
"Are they friends of yours?"
"Who travels with enemies?"
"Did you know them, I mean, before you came with them?"
"No."
"Then you are not from El-Maan?"
"Who said I was?"
"I thought you did."
"Nay, the words were yours, khawaja." * [* Lit., gentleman-sir]
"Please tell me where you come from."
"From beyond El-Maan."
She made a gesture with one hand and her shoulder that suggested
illimitable distances.
"From which place beyond El-Maan?"
She laughed, and you felt she did it not in self-defense, but out of sheer
amusement.
"Ask the jackal where his hole is! My people live in tents."
"Well, Princess, tell me, at any rate, what you are doing here in
El-Kalil." [Hebron]
"Ask El-Kalil. The whole suk talks of me. I have made purchases."

"That's what I'm getting at. You've made some unusual purchases, and
you've sent to Jerusalem for things that people don't use as a rule in
tents out in the desert--silk stockings, for instance, and a phonograph
with special records, and soft pillows, and writing-paper, and odds and
ends like that. Do you use those things?"
"Why not?"
"Do you use books in French and English?"
She hesitated. It was the first time she had not seemed perfectly at ease.
"Can you even read Arabic?"
She did not answer.
"Then the books, at any rate, are meant for some one else? Tell me who
that some one is."
"Allah!" she exploded "May I not buy what I will, if I pay for it?"
But that was a false move. You can't upset the young British officer by
storming at him. De Crespigny smiled, and came back at her with his
next question suddenly.
"Are not those things for the wife of Ali Higg, and are you not from
Petra?"
"If you know so surely whence I come, why do you ask me?"
"Are you a slave?"
"Allah!"
"How many wives has Ali Higg?"
"How should I know?"
"Because I think you are one of his wives. Is that not so?"

"I am Ayisha. I claim Your Honor's protection."
That was no false move. It was so nearly a checkmate that de
Crespigny went to the sideboard for the silver box of cigarettes, to offer
her one and gain time for thought.
Ever since the days of Ruth, and no doubt long before that, it has been
the first law of the desert that man or woman claiming protection can
no longer be treated as an enemy. It is possibly the earliest form of
freemasonry, and it survives.
Arab history is full