CHAPTER VII

"_. . . . and she painted her face, and tired her

head, and looked out at a window_."

II KINGS.

The house of the "Scarlet Enchantress," with its balconies, turrets and

outer and inner courts, stood quite by itself at one corner of the

Square, in a big, neglected garden. It had been built by means of

untold gold and the destruction of scores of miserable, picturesque

hovels, which, poor as they might be, had however meant home to many of

the needy in the Arabian quarters of Cairo. It would be useless to

look for that building covered in white plaster now; it was, later,

looted and burned to the ground.

A beautiful wanton of fourteen summers, ambitious, relentless, with the

eyes of an innocent child, the morals of a jackal and a fair supply of

brain-cunning rather than intellect, Zulannah sat this night of stars

in a corner of her balcony overlooking the Square, smoking endless

cigarettes.

Courtesan of the highest rank, she had plied her ruthless trade for

three successful years, accumulating incredible wealth in jewels and

hard cash. Her ambition knew no bounds; her greed no limit; her

jealousy of other women had become a by-word in the north.

Physically she was perfect; otherwise, she had not one saving grace,

and her enemies were legion. She had driven hard bargains, demanding

the very rings off men's fingers in exchange for kisses; shutting the

door with callous finality in the face of those she had beggared; she

had disowned her mother, who, stricken with ophthalmia, begged in the

streets; she had no mercy for man, woman or beast, yet all had gone

well until love had come to her.

Love comes to harlots and to queens as well as to us ordinary women,

and they suffer every whit as much as we do, perhaps more keenly on

account of the hopeless positions they fill.

It had come to Zulannah, uncontrollably, that night when, unveiled,

garbed in silks and satins and hung with jewels, she brazenly graced

the stage-box at a gala performance.

She looked down, and Ben Kelham, in the end seat of the first row of

stalls, looked up and looked and looked, seeing nothing, being blinded

with love of Damaris.

Zulannah drove back in her Rolls-Royce to the edge of the Arabian

quarter, where, owing to the narrowness of the lanes called by courtesy

streets, she alighted to finish what remained of the journey in a

litter swung from the shoulders of four Nubian slaves, and, arrived at

the great house, summoned her special bodyguard, Qatim the Ethiopian;

and for acquiring information down to the smallest detail about some

special individual there is, surely, no detective agency on earth to

compare to one ordinary, native servant.

He loves intrigue!

So that, twenty-four hours later, Zulannah laughed shrilly when Qatim

the Ethiopian repeated all he had learned of the white man and the

white maid he presumably loved.

"Love!" she scoffed. "He has not met _me_!"

But in the weeks that followed no plot had succeeded, no device or

subtle invitation had lured the bird to the list, so that she beat

sharply upon a silver gong this night of the stars, upon which the

Ethiopian came running hastily to cast himself upon the ground at the

jewelled, henna'd feet.

"Get up," she said, kicking him upon the side of the head; whereupon he

rose, chalking up one more mark on his own particular slate of Life,

upon one side of which was written Desire and the other Revenge.

He stood six-foot-four in his loin-cloth, as black and glistening as a

polished ebony statue. The enormous hands at the end of great,

over-long arms almost touched his knees; the chest and shoulders and

abdomen were hard as iron, rippling with muscle under the oiled skin;

the feet were huge and pink of sole, and the animality of the man was

intensified by a certain gleam of intelligence somewhere in the

impassive negroid face.

The woman, took no notice of the magnificent physique; it neither

repulsed nor attracted her--he was a slave.

"Run and give orders that no one is admitted! Hasten!"

"Mistress, a great noble waits at-----"

"Desirest thou thy tongue split, thou black dog, that thou answerest

Zulannah? Haste thee, and return!"

And far into the night they talked, those two, planning death or

destruction, anything as long as it attained the desire of the woman

who, looking into the future, took no notice of the mountain of

disaster beside her in the shape of the Ethiopian who desired and hated

her with all the bestial passion of his race.

Then, just as far down in the east the sky lightened, she sat suddenly

upright and clapped her jewelled hands.

"Know'st thou the eunuch who guards the harem empty of women in the

palace of--ah! the barbarity of the name!--E'u Car-r-den Ali? He who

perchance would give one-half, nay, all of his great wealth in return

for the coal-blackness of thy odorous skin. There is to be held a big

entertainment within the walls of the white man's hotel, and soon. An

entertainment where the whites dance foolishly in foolish raiment,

disguised as that which they are not and with covered faces. What

easier than for me to obtain entry as one of them under my veils and

have speech with the man I love? And if he is as thou sayest, besotted

with love of this white girl, then will I use the man of barbarous name

as a tool to bring about that which I desire. Know'st thou the eunuch?"

"Mistress, he is my twin-brother."

"Twin of _thee_! Behold, did not thy mother die of fright, at sight of

such monstrosities?"

"Nay, mistress, there are six sons younger than thy slave, each one of

which could break thee in one hand."

Zulannah sprang to her feet and, seizing a short whip from a table,

smote the man again and again until his face ran blood.

"Thou vile brute, darest thou so to speak! Behold, this is but a

foretaste of what will befall thy black carcase before the hour is

spent."

"Call thy slaves, mistress; split my tongue; whip the soles from off my

feet, the flesh from my body, even to the bones, and thou shalt never

meet my twin-brother, who even now prepareth the great palace for the

coming of the"--he spat--"bird of different-coloured plumage."

And Zulannah, understanding that she must not overstep the limit if she

desired to attain her end, flung the whip full into the stolid,

indifferent face, and fled, raving obscenities, into the house.