# Kéraban the Inflexible (Part 1)/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII.
Amasia, the only daughter of Selim the banker, was walking and chatting with her personal attendant Nedjeb, in the verandah of a beautiful country-house, the gardens of which extended in terraces to the shore of the Black Sea.
From the last terrace, the steps of which were bathed by the calm water, Odessa could be perceived towards the South in all its glory. This town is quite an oasis in the surrounding desert, forming a splendid panorama of palaces, churches, hotels, and other habitations built upon a steep cliff which rises precipitously from the sea. From the banker's house one could even perceive the great square surrounded with trees, and the staircase which marks the statue of Richelieu. This great man was the founder of the city, and was its ruler until he undertook the liberation of France.
As the climate is dry and "trying" in the season of the northerly and easterly winds, the inhabitants seek shelter during the summer heat under the welcome shade of the Khontors, and the residents have built their villas on the sea-shore; for business will not permit them all to seek relaxation in the Southern Crimea for the whole season. Amongst these elegant houses one would remark the banker's residence, which was so situated as to be not much inconvenienced by the prevailing dryness of the season.
The name "Odessa" signifies the "town of Ulysses," for so the inhabitants formerly petitioned Catharine II. to name their village. The empress consulted the Academy of St. Petersburg, and the savants investigated the records of the siege of Troy. These records informed them that ​at one time a town, more or less problematical, existed there under the name of "Odyssos," whence Odessa arose in the middle of the eighteenth century.
Odessa has been, is, and always will be, a commercial city. Its 500,000 inhabitants consist of Russians, Turks. Greeks, and Armenians—in fact a gathering together of all people who have business tastes. Now, if commerce makes merchants, it equally makes bankers; and amongst the latter, Selim, from modest beginnings, had risen to be one of the most wealthy and esteemed.
Selim belonged to the rather numerous class of monogamous Turks. He had never had but one wife: Amasia was his only daughter, now engaged to Ahmet, Kéraban's nephew. So Selim was the correspondent and intimate friend of the most obstinate Turk who ever wore a turban. The marriage of Amasia and Ahmet was to be celebrated at Odessa. She would be the sole wife of the young man, and return with him to his uncle's house in Constantinople.
People also knew that Amasia's aunt—her father's sister—had left by will to her niece an enormous sum of money, amounting to 100,000l. (Turkish), on the condition that she should marry before she was sixteen—a caprice of the old lady, who, never having been herself married, was determined that Amasia should lose no time—and the period fixed would expire in six weeks from the time we refer to. Failing this marriage, the money would go to collateral inheritors.
Amasia herself was charming even in the eyes of Europeans. Had her white muslin veil, her gold-embroidered head-dress, and the triple row of sequins across her forehead been removed, her beautiful hair would have been perceived in all its luxuriance. She was in no way indebted to art to heighten her beauty. No hanum pencilled her eye-brows, no kohl blackened her lashes, no henna darkened the eyelids. No bismuth or "rouge" improved her complexion: no carmine heightened the colour of her lips. A western woman of the present style would be found more painted than was Amasia. The elegance of her figure, her graceful mode of walking, and ​her natural ease of movement, were all discernible under the feredjé, or cashmere cloak which draped her from neck to heels like a dalmatica.
That day, in the gallery which opened into the gardens, Amasia was wearing a long silken chemise, which was concealed by the ample chalwar united to a little embroidered vest, and an entari with a silken train slashed on the sleeves, and embroidered with a trimming of oya—a Turkish lace. A girdle of cashmere supported the train, so that it might not impede her steps. A pair of earrings and a ring were her only jewels. Elegant padjoubs of velvet hid the lower part of the leg, and her pretty little feet were encased in gold-embroidered slippers.
Her attendant, Nedjeb, a bright and lively girl and a devoted servant—one might say friend—was at this time with Amasia; laughing, chattering, moving hither and thither, and making the house quite gay by her good-humour and cheerfulness. Nedjeb was a Zingara by descent, not a slave. Slavery is not the less abolished in principle because one occasionally sees some Ethiopians or negroes sold in the open market. A large number of domestics is necessary for a great Turkish family—a number which in Constantinople includes a third of the Mussulman population—these servants are never reduced to a condition of slavery: and it must be confessed that, looking to the fact that each domestic has his special work, there is not much to do individually.
The banker's establishment was conducted somewhat on this principle, but Nedjeb was exclusively attached to Amasia. Having been received quite as a child into the house, she occupied a unique position, and never performed any menial duty. Amasia was reclining upon a divan, covered with rich Persian stuffs, and was gazing out upon the Bay of Odessa.
"Dear mistress," said Nedjeb, seating herself upon a cushion at Amasia's feet, "Seigneur Ahmet has not yet arrived! What is he about, I wonder?"
"He has gone into the city," replied Amasia, "and perhaps he will bring back a letter from his uncle Kéraban."
​"A letter!" exclaimed the attendant. "A letter! We don't want that; we want Seigneur Kéraban himself; and, to tell the truth, this uncle keeps us waiting a good deal."
"Patience, Nedjeb. A little patience," said Amasia.
"Yes,you speak very calmly and take it easily. But if you were in my place, my dear young mistress, you would scarcely be so patient."
"Silly girl!" replied Amasia. "It is not a question of your marriage, but mine."
"And do you not think it is a very important thing to pass from the service of a young lady to that of a rich married dame?"
"I shall not love you any the better," said Amasia.
"Nor could I love you any better, dear lady; but, truly, to see you so happy as the wife of Seigneur Ahmet would react on me, and make me very happy too."
"Dear Ahmet!" murmured Amasia, as she veiled her eyes a moment, while she invoked the remembrance of her fiancé.
"Ah! there you are, obliged to shut your eyes to see him," cried Nedjeb maliciously, "while if he were here you would open them."
"I tell you that he has gone to meet the messenger from the bank, who will no doubt have a letter from his uncle."
"Yes; a letter from Seigneur Kéraban, in which he will repeat as usual that business detains him in Constantinople; that he cannot as yet leave home; that tobacco is rising; that unless it falls he will arrive in eight days, without fail—unless indeed it happens to be sixteen days. And time presses. We have only six weeks. If you are not married then, you must give up your fortune, and—"
"It is not for my fortune that Ahmet is going to marry me, Nedjeb."
"Quite so; but there is no need to lose it by delay. Oh! if Seigneur Kéraban were my uncle!"
"What would you do if he were?"
"I would do nothing, dear mistress, as no one can do anything. Nevertheless, if he were here—if he arrived ​to-day even—or to-morrow, or a little later, we would carry him to the judge, and have the contract completed. Afterwards we would go to the Imaun and be married, and well married too. The fêtes should be prolonged for fifteen days, and Seigneur Kéraban might go away then as soon as he pleased, if he wanted to return so particularly."
There could be no doubt that the arrangements as detailed by Nedjeb could be made and carried out, if Seigneur Kéraban did not tarry longer in Constantinople. The contract would be registered before the Mollah, who filled the position of a ministerial officer, a contract by which the future husband bound himself to give his wife furniture and kitchen utensils. Then came the religious ceremony, and the various formalities—all of which could be accomplished within the period that Nedjeb named. But still, was it necessary that Kéraban, whose presence as guardian of his nephew was indispensable, should occupy in business the few days which the impatient waiting-woman so anxiously claimed for her charming mistress?
Just then the girl exclaimed, "See what a pretty vessel is just coming to anchor under the garden steps!"
"So there is," said Amasia.
Immediately the two girls proceeded towards the steps which led to the water's edge, so that they might more conveniently observe the graceful little vessel which had just "brought up" opposite.
It was the felucca. The sail was still brailed up, and she was running in under the impetus of a light breeze. She came to anchor within a cable's length of the shore, and dipped gently to the wavy undulations of the water which broke on the foot of the steps. The Turkish flag floated from the mast.
"Can you read her name?" inquired Amasia.
"Yes," replied Nedjeb. "See, there it is on the stern. The Guidare."
So it was. Captain Yarhud had come to an anchor in this part of the bay, but it did not appear as if he intended to remain, because his sails were not furled, and a sailor would have noticed that the ship was in sea-going trim.
"Truly," remarked Nedjeb, "it would be very pleasant ​to have a sail in that vessel upon such a blue sea, and with such a gentle wind, just enough to make it bend over with those great sails."
Then, in the mutability of her imagination, the young Zingara, perceiving a casket, in which were some jewels, upon a small table near the divan, opened the case and said, "Ah! look at the beautiful things Seigneur Ahmet has brought for you. It must be more than an hour since we looked at them!"
"Do you think so?" murmured Amasia, taking out a necklace and a pair of bracelets, which glittered as she held them up.
"With these jewels Seigneur Ahmet hopes to make you more beautiful, but he will not succeed!" remarked Nedjeb.
"What do you say?" replied Amasia. "Where is the woman who would not gain by wearing such beautiful ornaments as these? Look at these diamonds from Visapour; they are exquisitely brilliant, almost fiery, and remind me of the eyes of my fiancé."
"Oh, dear lady, when yours look at him, do you not offer him a gift equal to his own?"
"Silly child!" replied Amasia. "Look at this sapphire of Ormuz; and these pearls of Ophir; these turquoises of Macedonia—"
"Turquoise for turquoise," said Nedjeb, laughing joyously. "The Seigneur Ahmet will not lose by the exchange."
"Fortunately he is not near, Nedjeb, to hear you say so."
"Ah! but if he were, he would tell you the same, and his words would have greater value than mine."
Then, taking up a pair of slippers which were lying near, she continued, "Look at these pretty 'babouches,' all embroidered and trimmed with swan's-down, made for a pretty pair of little feet I know. Let me see if I can put them on for you."
"Try them on yourself, Nedjeb."
"I?" exclaimed the girl.
"This is not the first time that, to please me, you—"
"Certainly, certainly," replied Nedjeb. "Yes, I have ​already tried on your pretty dresses, and I went out upon the terrace, where they took me for you. If I was only pretty enough!—but no! that never will be, and to-day less than ever. Let me try these pretty slippers on."
"Do you wish it?" said Amasia, as she yielded to the girl's solicitations. So Nedjeb put on her young mistress's feet the slippers which were worthy of a place in a glass case of curiosities. "Ah, how can you now venture to walk in them?" exclaimed the young Zingara. "Your head may now be jealous of your feet."
"You make me laugh, Nedjeb," replied Amasia. "Yet—"
"And those arms, those beautiful arms, which you leave quite unadorned! Why should you? Seigneur Ahmet has not forgotten them, not he! I see here some bracelets which will suit them to a nicety. Poor little arms!—how badly they have treated you! Fortunately I am here."
And, laughing all the time, Nedjeb passed two magnificent bracelets on Amasia's wrists, and they looked more resplendent upon the white skin than within their case of velvet.
Amasia let her do as she pleased. Every ornament spoke to her of Ahmet, and to the incessant chatter of Nedjeb, her eyes, glancing from one jewel to another, responded in silence.
"Amasia, dearest!"
The girl at these words rose hastily, and met a young man whose twenty-two years suited well his fiancée of sixteen. Ahmet was somewhat above the middle height, of a good figure; easy, yet somewhat dignified: his black eyes wore a very sweet expression, and flashed like lightning in his passionate moments. His hair was brown and curly beneath his fez, his small moustache was trimmed Albanian fashion; his teeth were white—in fact, there was an aristocratic air about him, if the term "aristocratic" is permissible in referring to a man in whose country there is no hereditary aristocracy.
Ahmet adhered strictly to the Turkish dress. He could not do otherwise, being the nephew of such an uncle. His well-made costume became him well; it was of rich material, and in good taste.
​The young man advanced and seized the hands of his affianced bride, obliging her to reseat herself, while Nedjeb said,—
"Well, Seigneur Ahmet, is there any news from Constantinople?"
"No," replied Ahmet, "not even a business letter from my uncle Kéraban."
"Oh, the wretch!" exclaimed Nedjeb.
"I cannot myself understand," said the young man, "why the courier has not brought any letter from him. This is the day he never fails to let us have some information, and to arrange matters with the banker; yet your father has not received any letters from him either."
"For a punctilious man of business, like your uncle, this certainly is a circumstance to wonder at, dear Ahmet. Perhaps a telegram—"
"He send a telegram! My dear Amasia, you know quite well he would no more telegraph than he would travel by railway. Utilize modern inventions, even for business! He would rather receive bad news by letter than good news by the telegraph, I believe. Ah, Uncle Kéraban—"
"You have written to him, of course, dear Ahmet?" asked the girl, whose gaze was tenderly fixed upon her fiancé.
"I have written to him a dozen times, to beg him to fix an earlier date for our marriage. I have told him over and over again that he was acting a barbarous part—"
"Good!" exclaimed Nedjeb.
"That he had no heart; though the best of men—"
"Oh!" said Nedjeb, shaking her head.
"Yet he had no pity," continued Ahmet, "while acting the part of father to his nephew. But he replied that so long as he came within six weeks we had no reason to complain!"
"Well, we must only wait his good pleasure, Ahmet."
"Wait, wait!" exclaimed the young man. "He is robbing us of so many days of happiness!"
"Men who have done no worse are often arrested," remarked Nedjeb, tapping her foot impatiently.
"What shall I do? await Uncle Kéraban? I declare, if ​he does not answer my letter by to-morrow, I will go to Constantinople—!"
"No, dear Ahmet," said Amasia, seizing his hand, as if to detain him, "I should suffer so much by your absence that the few days gained would not please me at all; they would not recompense me for the separation. No, stay where you are: who knows? Perhaps something may alter your uncle's determination."
"Alter Uncle Kéraban's determination! You might as well hope to change the course of the stars, to make the moon rise instead of the sun, to change the laws of the universe—as to alter Kéraban's decision," said Ahmet.
"Ah, if I were his niece!" said Nedjeb.
"What would you do then?" asked Ahmet.
"I would seize his caftan, so that—"
"You would only succeed in tearing it."
"Well, then, I would pull his beard for him, hard!"
"His beard might even be pulled off altogether," replied Ahmet.
"And yet," said Amasia, "Seigneur Kéraban is the best of men."
"No doubt, no doubt," replied Ahmet; "but so headstrong, so obstinate, that if an encounter were to take place between him and a mule, I should decline to bet on the latter."