Kéraban the Inflexible (Part 1)/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
IN WHICH AHMET, IN DEFERENCE TO CIRCUMSTANCES, MAKES AN ENERGETIC RESOLUTION.
"Good day, friend Selim, good day. May Allah protect you and yours!"
So saying, Kéraban shook Selim's hand warmly.
"Good day, nephew Ahmet;" and then Kéraban folded the young man in his arms.
"Good day, my little Amasia," he continued, kissing the girl on both cheeks.
All this passed so quickly that no one had any time to reply to the salutations.
"Now we had better be going," said Kéraban, turning to Van Mitten.
The phlegmatic Dutchman, who had not been introduced, appeared like some strange personage in the scene. Seeing Kéraban distributing his hand-shakes and embraces with such prodigality, Van Mitten had no doubt that his friend had come to hasten the marriage; but when Kéraban cried "en route," the Dutchman was greatly amazed.
It was Ahmet, however, who first interposed.
"How!" he exclaimed. "Going away?"
"Yes, we are off again, nephew."
"You really are going, uncle?"
"This moment."
The general astonishment was very marked, and Van Mitten whispered to Bruno,—
"Certainly this way of acting is very characteristic of my friend Kéraban."
"Very much so," replied Bruno.
Meanwhile Amasia looked at Ahmet, who looked at Selim, while Nedjeb had eyes for no one but this mysterious uncle who was anxious to get away almost before you could say he had arrived.
"Come along, Van Mitten," said Kéraban, as he turned to the door.
"Monsieur, will you tell me—" said Ahmet to Van Mitten.
"What can I tell you?" asked the Dutchman, turning round suddenly, for he was following his host.
But Kéraban returned as he was at the door, and said, addressing the banker,—
"By the way, friend Selim, can you change me a few thousand piastres?"
"A few thousand piastres!" echoed Selim, who did not understand.
"Yes, Selim; for Russian money: I want some for my journey in Muscovite territory."
"But, uncle, will you tell us," began Ahmet, who was standing now beside Amasia,—"will you tell us—"
"At what rate is the exchange?" continued Kéraban, without paying any attention to Ahmet.
"Three and a half per cent.," replied Selim, in whom the banker at once predominated.
"What! three and a half!"
"Roubles are at a premium," replied Selim. "On the Exchange they are asking—"
"Look here, friend Selim, it must be three and a quarter for me: you understand—three and a quarter."
"Oh, yes—for you certainly, friend Kéraban—and without any commission at all."
Selim evidently had no longer any definite idea of what he was saying or doing.
All this time Yarhud at the end of the gallery was listening to what was going on very attentively. Would the issue be favourable or unfavourable to his projects?
Ahmet now seized his uncle by the arm, and, not without difficulty, succeeded in stopping him.
"Uncle," he said, "you have embraced us all just when you have arrived—"
"Just as I am about to go away, you mean," replied Kéraban.
"Well, be it so: I do not wish to contradict you. But at least tell me why you have come to Odessa."
"Because Odessa was in my way. Had Odessa not been a stage in my journey, I should not have come here. Is not that so, Van Mitten?"
The Dutchman contented himself by assenting with a nod.
"Ah, yes, by-the-bye, you have not been introduced. I must present you." Then, addressing Selim, Kéraban continued,—
"My friend Van Mitten, my correspondent at Rotterdam, whom I am bringing to dine with me at Scutari."
"At Scutari!" exclaimed the banker.
"It seems so," said Van Mitten.
"And Bruno his servant," continued Kéraban; "a brave follower who does not wish to be separated from his master."
"It seems so," said Bruno, like an echo.
"Now, let us be off," said the impetuous Turk.
"If it must be so, uncle," said Ahmet, "we will not endeavour to detain you. But if you are only here because Odessa happens to be in your way, may I inquire what route you are taking for Scutari?"
"The route which leads round the Black Sea."
"Around the Black Sea!" exclaimed Ahmet.
A dead silence supervened for a few seconds, and then Kéraban said, "Well, if you please, what is there so very surprising in that? Is there anything so very extraordinary in our going from Constantinople to Scutari by the sea-coast route?"
Selim and Ahmet looked at each other significantly. Was the rich merchant of Galata going mad?
"Friend Kéraban," said the banker at length, "we do not wish to oppose you in any way." This was the usual phrase, and a prudent one when dealing with the obstinate Kéraban. "We have no wish to contradict you at all, only it appears to us that you might have perhaps reached Scutari more directly by crossing the Bosphorus."
"There is no longer any Bosphorus!" said Kéraban.
"No longer any Bosphorus!" exclaimed Ahmet.
"Not for me—which is the same thing. There is a strait for such people as will submit to pay an iniquitous tax of four paras a head; a tax which these new Turks have imposed upon waters which have hitherto been free as air."
"What! a new tax?" said Ahmet, who at once comprehended the situation, and that his uncle had had some discussion in which his obstinacy had refused to give way: hence his departure from Constantinople.
"Yes," exclaimed Kéraban, working himself into a pitch of excitement. "Just as I was about to cross in my caïque to dine at Scutari with my friend Van Mitten, this tax was ordained. Naturally I refused to pay it. The officials refused to let me pass. I said that I knew how to reach Scutari without crossing the Bosphorus. They said I could not: I replied that I could. And so I will, by Allah! I would rather have my hand cut off than pay those ten paras. No, by Mahomet, they do not know Kéraban!"
Evidently they did not know Kéraban. But Selim, Ahmet, Van Mitten, and Amasia knew him; and they perceived that, after what had passed, all their efforts to change his resolution would be in vain. There was no use in attempting to argue the point. Discussion would have only led to complications. They must accept the situation, and without any consultation it was accepted unanimously.
"After all, you are right, uncle," said Ahmet.
"Quite right," added Selim.
"I am always right," replied Kéraban modestly.
"One ought to resist such iniquitous imposts," continued Ahmet, "even though it cost you a fortune."
"Even my life," said Kéraban.
"You have done well to refuse payment, and to show that you can reach Scutari from Constantinople without crossing the Bosphorus."
"And without paying ten paras," added Kéraban; "even though the alternative cost me five hundred thousand!"
"But you are not absolutely compelled to leave here at once, I suppose," said Ahmet persuasively.
"Absolutely compelled, nephew," replied Kéraban. "I suppose you are aware that I must return in less than six weeks."
"Quite so, uncle—so you can give us eight days in Odessa."
"Not five days—not four—not one day—not an hour!" exclaimed Kéraban.
Ahmet, perceiving that the natural obstinacy of the man was cropping up, signed to Amasia to intercede.
"And our marriage, Monsieur Kéraban?" asked the girl modestly, taking his hand.
"Your marriage, Amasia. That will still be a fixture. It must be accomplished before the end of next month, and so it shall be. My journey will not retard it by a day—if I leave here at once!"
So crumbled the castle in the air which had been erected: the scaffolding of hopes which had been put up on the unexpected arrival of Kéraban fell to the ground. The wedding would not be hastened, but on the other hand it would not be delayed. How could he count upon the accomplishment of the conditions, with a long and toilsome journey in prospect?
Ahmet could not restrain an angry movement, which fortunately his uncle did not observe, any more than he noticed the shade of disappointment on Amasia's brow, or than he heard Nedjeb's whisper of "Oh, the wretch!"
"Besides," continued Kéraban in the tone of a person who makes a proposition to which no possible exception can be taken,—"besides, I count upon Ahmet accompanying me!"
"That is a home-thrust which will be difficult to parry," whispered Van Mitten to Bruno.
"They will not parry it," said the valet.
In fact, Ahmet had received it full in his heart. Amasia also was struck dumb and remained motionless, by the verdict which was to deprive her of her affianced husband. She clung to Nedjeb, who would have liked to tear Kéraban's eyes out!
The captain of the Guidare did not lose a word of the conversation. Things were taking a turn favourable for him.
Selim now thought it time to interpose, though he had no hope of altering Kéraban's determination; so he said,—
"Is it really necessary that your nephew should accompany you on your tour of the Black Sea, Kéraban?"
"Necessary, no; but I do not think that Ahmet will decline to accompany me!"
"Nevertheless—" continued Selim.
"Nevertheless what?" cried Kéraban, grinding his teeth,—and this question closed the discussion.
There was again silence for a space which seemed interminable. Meantime Ahmet made his decision boldly. He spoke to his fiancée apart, and succeeded in making her understand that, however terrible the parting would be, there was nothing to be gained by resisting the mandate; that, without him, the journey would very likely be prolonged and meet with numerous delays, which his perfect acquaintance with the Russian language would remove. So, by accompanying his uncle, Ahmet decided that no time would be lost, and he would also hasten the journey, even though it cost three times as much; and he would all the more certainly bring Kéraban back in time for the wedding, fixed to take place at the end of the following month.
Amasia had not the courage to say yes; but she understood that Ahmet was right.
"Very well, uncle," said the young man, "I will accompany you; I am ready to go; but—"
"Oh, we will have no conditions, nephew."
"Unconditionally, then," said Ahmet; "but," he added mentally, "I will make you run till you are out of breath, pig-headed uncle that you are!"
"Now we must start," said Kéraban: and, turning to Selim, "Are those roubles ready?" he asked.
"I will give them to you at Odessa, whither I will accompany you," replied Selim.
"Are you ready, Van Mitten?"
"Always ready," replied the Dutchman.
"Well, now, Ahmet, embrace your fiancée, and let us be gone."
Ahmet threw his arms round the young girl, who was bathed in tears.
"Do not cry, dearest Amasia," he said: "if our marriage is not advanced, it will not be postponed, I promise you that. Only a few weeks—"
"Ah, my dear mistress," said Nedjeb, "if Seigneur Kéraban would only break a leg or two before he leaves this place! Shall I see about it?"
But Amasia desired the maid to hold her tongue. Still, Nedjeb was quite capable of carrying out her threat, or of finding some other means to stop the intractable uncle.
Farewells were exchanged, the last kisses given; nearly every one present was more or less affected; even the Dutchman felt an accelerated movement of the heart. Kéraban alone saw nothing, and wished to see nothing, of the general sorrow and tenderness.
"Is the chaise ready?" he asked.
"The chaise is ready," replied Nizib.
"Come along, then. Ah! you new-fashioned Turks, who dress like Europeans, who do not even know how to get fat." (This was evidently an unpardonable sin in Kéraban's eyes.) "Ah! you renegades, who submit to the decrees of Mahmoud: I will show you that there is still one of the old believers left, of whom you will never get the better!"
No one contradicted him, yet he proceeded in a still more excited manner,—
"Ah! you pretend to monopolize the Bosphorus, do you? Well, I will get to the opposite side of it. That for your Bosphorus! I laugh at your Bosphorus. What did you say, Van Mitten?"
"I said nothing,” replied Van Mitten, who had taken very good care not to open his mouth.
"Your Bosphorus—their Bosphorus," continued Kéraban, shaking his fist towards the south. "Fortunately the Black Sea is there, and it has a coast-line not exclusively for caravans. I will follow that road. I will circum-ambulate it; and you will see the faces of your officials, when I appear upon the heights of Scutari, without having thrown my paras into the box of that set of administrative mendicants."
We must confess that Kéraban, when he reached this crowning invective, was really magnificent in his anger.
"Come, Ahmet; come, Van Mitten. Away, away, away!"
He had reached the door, when Selim detained him,—
"Friend Kéraban," said he, "permit me a simple observation."
"I will have no observations."
"Well, then, a remark which I wish to make," persisted the banker.
"We have no time."
"Listen to me," continued Selim. "When you have reached Scutari, having made the tour of the Black Sea, what will you do?"
"I—do? why—I—I—"
"You do not, I suppose, intend to remain at Scutari for ever, without visiting Constantinople, where your business house is?"
"No," replied Kéraban, with some hesitation.
"In fact, uncle," said Ahmet, "if you still continue obstinate about crossing the Bosphorus, our wedding—"
"Friend Selim," interrupted Kéraban, eluding the main point, "nothing can be more simple. What is there to prevent you and Amasia from coming to Scutari? It will cost you ten paras each, it is true, to cross the Bosphorus, but your honour is not pledged like mine in the matter."
"Yes, yes, come to Scutari in a month," exclaimed Ahmet. "We will meet you there, dear Amasia; and, you may depend upon it, we will not keep you waiting."
"So be it. We meet at Scutari," said Selim, "and then the marriage shall be celebrated. But, after all, Kéraban, when the wedding is over, will you not return to Constantinople?"
"Certainly; I will return—certainly," said Kéraban.
"How?"
"Well, if the vexatious tax has been abolished, I will cross the Bosphorus without paying."
"And if the tax be not removed?" said Selim.
"If it be not taken off," said Kéraban, with a superb gesture, "then, by Allah, I will retrace my steps, and make the tour of the Black Sea over again!"