Front matter
Crown 8vo. , cloth extra, 3s. 6d. A SON OF NOAH By MARY ANDERSON ' To have told the love story of Shem in Biblical phraseology is a deed worthy of the highest admiration, and we cannot sufficiently congratulate the authoress on lhe undertaking, for she has really succeeded in making it interesting. There is an excellent description of a fight with a mashtak, and the account of the Deluge is very vivid.' — Guardian. ' " A Son of Noah " is both a powerful and a charming romance, and, so far as is possible, the author has entered into the spirit of the remote ages with which she is dealing. We seem to see the patriarchal tents, the sweet green herbage, and the flocks on the hillside, as vividly as we may picture a nook in the Thames Valley ; while the men and women are intensely human, yet not modern, people.' — Vanity Fair. ' There is a boldness of conception about the whole story which goes far towards originality.
We predict great things for Mary Anderson should she stick to the flowery path of novel-writing.' — People. ' The story is forcible and interesting, vesting the mythical folk of Deluge fame in a garb of naturalness that makes them appear human. Many of the scenes described are written with vigour and spirit, and her method of narration is skilfully maintained throughout the volume.' — Whitehall Review. ' A most interesting work The literary power of the authoress is revealed throughout. It is full of stirring adventures.' — England. ' Has an abundance of strange exciting incidents, which are at times quite fascinating in their weirdness, and which will probably enable it to command more than an ordinary share of attention.' — Evening News. 'Miss Anderson has a facility of language and a grasp of the techni calities of her art Little Mahalath's fate among the cannibals is painted vividly.
We can promise that readers will be in terested in "A Son of Noah." ' — Manchester Examiner. ' Miss Anderson has fulfilled a very difficult task with great credit to herself. She has written a story of life before the Flood which is full of sustained interest, and never verges on burlesque or irreverence. We cordially commend the author for the very skilful manner in which she has told an interesting story.' — Hereford Times. & ilooel BY MARY ANDERSON AUTHOR OF ' A SON OF NOAH,' ETC. f^-- EonUon CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 189S
Chapter I
'And now, sir,' said the Raid's guest, 'these other matters being amicably agreed upon, it behoves me to recall to your memory the circumstance that you have not yet paid me for the valuable merchandise I brought you when last I came to Morocco. Doubtless you are prepared to discharge that obligation ?' The Raid of Temessuin displayed some hesitation of manner as he made reply. ' To say the truth,' he answered, ' the money which you ask for is not at my disposal. I would gladly pay you if I could, but at this moment I know not where to seek for such a sum. Be pleased, therefore, to leave the matter as it stands at present ; at your next coming you shall be paid in full, with the addition of due interest, in compensation for the delay.' ' Nay, sir,' said the other, 'the debt has already been standing over-long.
As is known to you, I am but the agent of my master in Tunis, and I have it in charge from him to inform you that he can brook no further excuse.' ' But I have not the money, and I cannot procure it,' replied the Raid. ' Look for yourself and behold the condition of this accursed land. The district is already taxed beyond its uttermost limits, and I myself am roundly told that if there be the smallest diminu tion in the accustomed tribute to my over-lord at Fez, my own eyes will straightway be put out and I shall afterwards be impaled alive. And here in the province which I govern my life from day to day is not secure. The people complain vehemently of injustice and oppression, and latterly a rising has taken place amongst them, which is not yet subdued.' ' These, sir, are your concerns, and they do not affect my master or myself,' said his companion. ' And wheresoever we have dealings, be it to the north or to the south, to the east or to the west, we find the same desire on the part of our customers to evade the payment of their debts.
From the courtiers of Girolamo Priuli, Doge of Venice, to the Janissaries of Solyman the Magnificent at Constantinople, there is the utmost disinclination to any loosening of purse strings. So unless we would consent to be ruined altogether, we must needs take measures to secure what is ours. You tell me that you cannot find the gold which I demand ; I am forced to make answer that I shall not depart from Temessuin without it.' ' Nay, my good friend Ben Houssa, I pray you be reasonable,' said the Raid. ' Methinks that injunction might more properly be applied to yourself,' answered Ben Houssa ; ' I ask for nothing but what is our due.' The Raid looked around him in great perplexitv. For a moment the thought entered his mind that it might be well if his unwelcome guest were seized and slain, but he recollected in time that he could not venture to attempt anything so imprudent.
Ben Houssa's master was in possession of too many secrets concerning the Raid's various doings to make it safe for him to offer violence to any of that merchant's emissaries. A word or two from Tunis would effect his downfall and place him beyond the possibility of pardon. He considered these things within himself for some time, and presently his countenance brightened. ' The money I cannot give you,' he said ; ' but perchance we may by mutual consent compound this business after a fashion that shall content us both. In the matter of your search for slaves, methmks I may help to serve your master to his great advantage.' ' How so ?' asked Ben Houssa, whose interest was at all times readily awakened by anything new con cerning this most valuable species of merchandise. ' Look you,' said the Raid, ' there has been a rising against my authority, as I told you before.
The people have the insolence to demand redress for what they call their wrongs, and some of them have openly defied me. In spite of my precautions in crucifying all who have fallen into my hands, the thing has not yet been stamped out. The leader is at large, with a following of some twenty or thirty companions.' ' What of that ?' said Ben Houssa ; ' what would you have me do ?' ' I will furnish you with men from my bodyguard,' he replied, ' and you have already divers followers of your own who came hither with you. You shall go out to the village of Wajan, where these miscreants have sought refuge. And you shall be at liberty to take back to Tunis all those whom you may succeed in capturing; they will fetch goodly prices in the market there. The venture is well worth your trial, if only to secure their chief.' ' "Who is he ?' inquired the merchant.
His avarice prompted him to agree to the Raid's proposal, but he was too wary to involve himself in such an under taking without some further information. ' He is of the younger branch of our royal house,' answered the Raid ; ' but you need fear no questioning concerning him when you return here. Our rulers are ever apprehensive of treachery amongst their own kinsfolk, and the names of those who die or disappear by secret means are never heard again.' ' Your counsel is good,' said Ben Houssa ; ' I doubt not that it will please my master well.' ' Then in virtue thereof the debt between us is set aside,' said the Raid, at parting. 'Even so, until I come again,' replied the other. ' But I charge you to remember that, slaves or no slaves, I will have the money then.' The Raid of Temessuin made good his word.
The merchant from Tunis was duly furnished with the promised band of assistants, and found himself placed at the head of a well-armed party, whose efficiency seemed all he could desire. Ben Houssa, after some deliberation, came to a decision as to the course he intended to pursue. He was better pleased than he had chosen to confess at the chance which had thus presented itself for the capture of more slaves. Those whom he had hitherto been able to secure were not, in his estimation, of sufficient value to satisfy his master, and of late sundry ventures of other kinds had gone perilously near to failure. Therefore he was eager to profit by this new turn of fortune, more especially as his own share of gain would be increased thereby. The village of Wajan was situated on a hillside, sloping down towards a watercourse that ran along a narrow valley.
This valley lay between rounded hills, whose sides were covered with boulders of stones, and amongst these latter a few scattered thorn bushes had here and there sprung up. The village was of necessity approached from above, and the track led over ledges of rock, which had been worn into the semblance of a path by the continued passing to and fro of the inhabitants. The small and sure-footed horses of the district were able to traverse the dangerous road in safety ; they were at all times lightly loaded, and were trained to step with caution from one ledge of rock to another. From the village downward to the stream the only path had been formed by the damsels of Wajan, as day by day they went to fetch water with their pitchers poised upon their heads. The dwellings were built of rough hewn stone, and a mixture of mud and clay had been employed wherewith to fill up the holes and crannies in the walls.
These humble habitations were placed at varying levels, and narrow paths ran between them, dividing them the one from the other. They had been built without any attempt at regularity, and in the centre they were crowded closely together. Towards the outskirts of the place, however, they became more scattered, and here many of them were surrounded by hedges of aloes or prickly pear. An open space in the upper part of the village was used as a kind of market-place, and in this spot several fine cypress-trees were grouped together. Ben Houssa had resolved that the place should be surprised by night ; he therefore made it his task to see that the utmost care was observed in approaching it, and that no loosened stone, by the clatter of its fall, should be suffered to betray the presence of his followers.
Upon the main track leading up the hill towards the way by which they had come, Ben Houssa placed a strong guard of some twelve or fifteen men. They were instructed that at a given signal from the merchant they were to make a sudden display of their presence, to the intent that the villagers might be prevented from breaking through them, or even from attempting flight in this direction. At the same time he despatched two other parties, the one to the eastern and the other to the western side of the place. He desired that they should conceal themselves among the rocks and bushes, and that in like manner as their comrades, they should spring up with a great noise and much shouting at the appointed moment. The path leading down to the water was purposely left without a guard, Ben Houssa being wishful that the villagers should be free to use it.
The night was fair, and all things were done accord ing to the commands that had been given. Having posted his men, the merchant himself entered the village with another band of followers, and soon the affrighted inhabitants, awakened rudely out of sleep, rushed forth from their dwellings in the endeavour to escape. Ben Houssa and his servants made but short work of securing those whom they deemed suitable for the slave-market ; such persons as attempted to offer opposition were speedily overpowered or slain. Throughout the night Ben Houssa encouraged his men to their task, and fulfilled his own share of the work with tireless activity. Once, as he was himself about to seize a youth some fifteen to sixteen years of age from a dwelling-place hard by, an aged woman, her aspect disordered by terror and her hair dishevelled, threw herself before him and clasped his knees. ' Have mercy — have mercy !' she cried. ' He is my youngest born, the child of my old age.
If you needs must take him, in pity take me likewise !' He thrust her impatiently aside, and commanded one of his assistants to bind the limbs of the youth and to put fetters upon him. But the woman was not to be thus daunted, and she crawled upon the ground to the feet of the merchant and prayed him vehemently to give her back her son. Then Ben Houssa, being angered by her importunity, and perceiving that she was too old to be sold into slavery at Tunis, drew his dagger and stabbed her in the breast. And, with her cry for mercy still upon her lips, she fell forward with her face to the earth, while her son, who seemed as it were confounded and bewildered by the suddenness of his capture, was dragged forth without resistance across the prostrate body of his mother. Meanwhile, as soon as it was perceived that the people were flying in the direction of the streamlet, the slave-seekers quitted their former posts and joined together in a body.
They then advanced slowly through the village, clearing it of all its remaining inhabitants, and capturing any who lingered. The villagers, as they hastened down the narrow path to the water, were compelled by the formation of the ground to follow the course of the stream, and here the bordering hills closed in upon them, rendering it impossible for them to gain the higher land once more. Confusedly crowded together in so cramped a space, they were easily secured by a strong party of Ben Houssa' s men, who had noiselessly taken up a position at a commanding point in the valley. The turmoil in rear of the fugitives made it hopeless for them to attempt to turn round and retrace their steps. Ben Houssa was coming back towards Wajan, well pleased to think that the value of his newly-captured slaves would compensate him many times over for the Raid's tardiness in paying what he owed, when word was brought him that the leader of the late rising yet remained at liberty.
Accompanied by two or three comrades, he was in possession of an outlying dwelling on the northern side of the village, and here he was preparing to defend himself against attack. Ben Houssa immediately determined that this man should be made captive. He remembered how the Raid had spoken of him as being of a higher class than the others, and he knew that any slave whose qualities of intelligence were superior to those of his fellows would be speedily purchased and well paid for in Tunis. The merchant quickly issued his commands. The dwelling wherein this chief was said to be was soon surrounded by Ben Houssa's servants. Nevertheless, they could not break into the abode except at one point, because the hedge of prickly pear that encircled it was too thick in growth to allow them to force a passage through.
A rude barricade, chiefly composed of logs of wood, had been placed across the entrance of the hut, and, as the assailants advanced towards it through a narrow cutting in the hedge, they were stopped and driven back again by a shower of sharpened stones and poisoned darts, which were flung into their midst from behind this shelter. These weapons were thrown with wondrous force and precision ; so when several of Ben Houssa's followers had been thereby killed or disabled, and when the others, in attempting to effect an entrance, had been compelled to retreat, the men of the Raid's bodyguard were observed to look upon each other with dismay, and to show some hesitation as to which of them should now go forward. But Ben Houssa, though his sins and his vices were like unto the hairs of his head for number, was not by nature a coward.
He rallied his servants with contemptuous words, and himself led them on towards the doorway, which as yet they had failed to enter. But he had no sooner stepped three paces within the hedge, than he was struck upon the head by a well-aimed stone, after which he remembered nothing more with any distinctness until he was carried out of the press by his own attendants. Then, in course of time, when his understanding, which had been confused by the effects of that blow, had cleared itself once more, he perceived that his men would not be able to win their way into the dwelling, except at the cost of a greater sacrifice of life and limb than he was willing to expend. For in the narrow space which must of necessity be traversed ere they could reach the doorway, the advance of a goodly number of foes might with ease be stayed by three or four determined men.
Those who defended this abode were well supplied with weapons ; they were aware of the full advantage of then: position, and they were not minded to yield themselves without a vigorous fight for their liberty. Yet Ben Houssa was none the less resolved upon then capture, though now he deemed it wiser to try a different plan. He called upon bis servants to bring dried brushwood from the roofs of the dwellings near, also reeds and leaves, or anything else which would burn. And when this was done, they made a great heap before the hut and set alight thereto. The season was very dry, and the heap thus lighted burnt like tinder ; also it was not long before the hedge itself caught fire. And the flames spread rapidly until the prickly pear was well alight, and the dwelling was surrounded by a ring of fire.
Thence, leaping higher, the flames soon reached the roof, while tongues of fire ran all along the building, turning the whole into one great blaze. The wind, blowing towards the house, drove the smoke from the burning hedge into the open door ; therefore Ben Houssa understood that the inmates must either consent to perish by suffocation or by fire, or else they must of necessity come out to the spot where he and his companions awaited them. Those within the hut knew this also, and it did not take them long to make choice what they would do. On a sudden they burst through the heap of crackling and flaming brushwood with a wild rush for freedom ; but however gallant their resistance, what could the strength of three avail amongst so many? One of them already lay dead upon the inner side of the doorway — he had been overpowered by the stifling vapour.
Soon two others were slain by the Raid's warriors ; then the chief was set upon, and after a prolonged and furious struggle he was at last secured alive. Ben Houssa went to look at him in the midst of his captors. A chieftain but an hour ago, he had now become a slave. The fall was great, and his rage and bitterness of heart were depicted in his face. The blood was flowing from his temple and down his cheek ; his head had been bound round with a hand kerchief adorned with quaint embroidery in a device resembling strawberries. Ben Houssa beheld with unfeigned admiration the splendid proportions of the magnificent limbs before him. The dusky figure stood out clear and distinct against a lurid background of flames that leapt up towards the tranquil sky. The slave-dealer knew the value of his prize ; he was well versed in the art of changing flesh and blood to gold. ' Bring manacles forthwith and bind him fast !' he cried.
Chapter II
Now, while those things which have already been related took place in Morocco I was myself far from these scenes of violence, and was with Nathan my father at his dwelling in the city of Tunis. For though Constantinople was his birthplace, and he had for many years remained there, yet latterly he had found it expedient that his abode should be changed. And he could cast no blame on anyone but himself if he was held in little esteem by all those who knew him in the capital of Solyinan the Emperor, and if men who once had dealings with him in matters con cerning usury or merchandise forbore to deal with him any longer. It may be that I am falling into a grievous sin in thus speaking of my father, for I was taught by my mother, whose resting-place is in Abraham's bosom, the holy commands that are written in the Law and the Prophets concerning the obedience which is due from children to their parents.
Yet it is not possible for me to blind my eyes to all which lay clearly before them, and God is my witness that although I will neither keep back nor conceal what is true, the memory of many tears and of much unkindness shall not persuade me to add a word of falsehood. So it is. for the sake of .truth, and not through malice or bitterness, that I must record how there was little love between my father and me. I went evermore in fear of him, and the sound of his harsh voice would at all times set my heart beating with a fear which I strove to hide. In Tunis it speedily became known that he was rich, and many sought his company with eagerness, who stayed not to ask how he got his wealth. And I also, as his only daughter, was regarded with much interest, and had I been minded, I might have chosen myself a husband either among those of our own faith who dwelt in the same city, or even among the Infidels or the Christians, many of whom would gladly have repaired a broken fortune with the aid of my gold pieces.
But I had wisdom enough to know that it was the money, and not the maiden, which these wooers desired, and I was in no mind to set myself the task of refilling the empty coffers of a stranger. And when I saw the mean and vile things which men will gladly do for love of gold, I grew to loathe the sight of the broad pieces which my father worshipped as earnestly as ever our forefathers the children of Israel had wor shipped the golden calf. And all the treasure which was stored away in iron-bound chests in our upper chamber seemed in my eyes to be stained and accursed with the blood and tears of those unhappy beings whose misery had brought us our riches. Wherefore by night in hours of wakefulness, or by day in times of solitude, I mused upon the truth spoken by him who said, ' The love of money is the root of all evil.' There was trouble within our walls in the days of which I am telling, for my father's mood had long been stern and gloomy, and for many days he had rarely spoken except to chide.
But his displeasure weighed little with me, and its cause was plain enough. He was expecting the return to Tunis of his servant Ben Houssa with a cargo of gold-dust, ivory, and slaves, and each day that the vessel came not his fears grew greater lest some misfortune had befallen her, and lest the venture, on which he had risked much, had proved a failure. So his anxiety for the safety of his merchandise found a vent for itself in rebukes and curses upon his daughter and his ser vants, and as his own mind was no longer at ease, he was careful that there should be but little peace for those around him. For this reason his slaves and his servants were eager to do his bidding with what speed they might, having discovered by experience that at times like these they had heavy punishments awarded them for every slight omission of duty.
We were seated at our mid-day meal, when news of the absent vessel came at length, and the servant whose good fortune it was to be the first to bring tidings thereby won for himself more favour in the space of a moment than he might otherwise have hoped to do by many years of work. ' Sir,' he exclaimed as he entered our apartment in too much haste to observe the usual salutations, ' the carrack commanded by Ben Houssa your servant is at anchor in the Halk-el-Oued, and he himself will shortly be on shore.' 'Now, by the Temple of God!' cried my father, rising up in delight, ' if this be truth, it is good news indeed ! Have you beheld the vessel, or do you but repeat what others have told you ?' ' Be it far from me,' he replied, ' to pollute my lips by declaring to your honour anything which is un true.
The boat which has gone out to bring Ben Houssa ashore is that belonging to my own brother, and had I waited but a little longer I should have seen them land together.' Then Nathan turned to me. ' Run, Marisa !' he said ; ' your limbs are younger than mine, and I am impatient for more news. Go forth to meet Ben Houssa as he comes up from the water-side, and bid him hasten. I will myself follow you with what speed I can.' My father's word was at all times law ; therefore I quickly flung a veil round my head and ran out as he bade me. Our dwelling lay in the most ancient part of the city, and I had many winding streets to traverse in haste ; so I was well-nigh breathless when I came upon the man I sought at the Bab-el-Bahr, or Sea Gate. 'Welcome, Ben Houssa !' I cried. ' Nathan, your master, has sent me to bid you come to him quickly.
He is eager to know how matters have fared with you since you went away.' ' Then he may take comfort with the knowledge that all has gone excellently well,' replied Ben Houssa, 'and he will have to thank me for bringing him a greater weight of ivory and a finer lot of slaves than it has been my fortune to carry on board his ship since I first took service with him.' I knew that such tidings as these would be highly acceptable to my father, yet a shudder came over me as Ben Houssa spoke. For the slave-dealing by which our wealth increased so mightily was a great grief to me, and gladly would I have foregone the wearing of fine linen and the possession of silken hangings if I could thereby have been spared the sight of these wretched creatures and their sufferings. And I went back with Ben Houssa in a sorrowful frame of mind, for I had seen more than enough of the slaves he had brought us in the past, and now I should be a witness of further misery.
Therefore my father's delight in the arrival of the carrack did not extend to me, and I became pensive and filled with melancholy. However, we walked hurriedly till we came within sight of Nathan, who had followed me at a slower speed ; and when my father learnt that his venture had prospered, he commended his servant and vouchsafed him a cordial greeting. ' This has proved a better piece of work than I looked for,' said he ; ' my mind misgave me greatly when your coming was so long delayed.' ' I should have been here sooner,' replied Ben Houssa, ' had not a sudden squall driven us in too close to the Algerian coast and caused us to be espied and chased by a Spanish galley hard by the port of Oran. We were many leagues out of our course ere the devils grew weary of the pursuit, and since then it has been but slow work beating back against a contrary wind, deep laden as we were.' V ' It is well,' said my father ; ' so that the merchandise be safe, all else matters but little.
Let us enter my abode and decide together about the landing of the cargo.' My father and Ben Houssa went indoors, and with a great thankfulness at being free from further attend ance on them, I sought my own chamber. It had long been known to me that Ben Houssa was a man of villainous character, and that for this very reason he was made much of and highly valued by his master. There were no behests laid upon him, however full of cruelty to others, which he did not fulfil with cheerfulness, while deeds from which men of a softer mould would shrink in repugnance were by him willingly undertaken and gladly performed. His soul was dead to the commands of God, and he gave no heed at all to such wisdom as is to be found in the teachings of the false prophet Mahomet, whom he professed to serve. So he was a willing instrument in the hands of my father, and was quite content with his post.
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