Once more she felt the hands gropingly upon her. It came from the back side of her bed, reaching apparently1 from the very wall. And then she heard a voice whispering, "Be still—I do not hurt you. Be still."
It was a woman's voice, soft, sibilant, hushed, and the frozen grip of fear was broken. She was trembling now uncontrollably.
"Who is there?"
"S-sh!" came the warning response, and then, her eyes staring into the shadowy recess2, she saw the curtains at the back side of the bed were parting as a figure appeared between them.
"Give me a box, a book—somethings to put here in this lock," commanded the voice peremptorily3, and in a daze4 Arlee found herself extending a magazine across the bed toward the half-seen figure, who turned and busied herself about the curtains a moment, then came straight across the bed into the room beside Arlee.
"Now you see who I am," said the astonishing intruder calmly.
Mutely Arlee shook her head, seeing only a figure about her own height clad in a dark negligée. Dumfounded she stood watching while her visitor deliberately5 lighted a candle.
"So—that is better," she observed, and in the light of the tiny taper6 between them the two stood facing each other.
Arlee saw a girl some years older than herself, a small, plump, rounded creature, with a flaunting7 and insouciant8 prettiness. Her eyes were dark and bright, her babyish lips were full and scarlet9, her nose was whimsically uptilted. Dark hair curled closely to the vivid face and fell in ringlets over the white neck.
"You don't know me?" she said in astonishment10 at Arlee's eyes of wonder. "He has not told you?" Incredulity, impertinent and mocking, darted11 out of the dark eyes. "What you think then—you what got my room?"
"Your room?" Arlee echoed faintly. She flung a quivering hand toward the bed. "How did you get in here? I locked the door——"
"You see how I came—I came by the panel," She waited a moment, watching the wide blue eyes before her, the parted lips, the white cheeks in which the blood was slowly stealing back, and incredulity gave way to astonished acceptance. "You don't know that, either? That is very funny."
"Did you lock it?" was Arlee's next breathless question. "What was that you said about putting in a magazine? Did you leave it open?"
The other girl reached quickly and caught her arm, as Arlee turned toward the bed. "No, no, if it goes shut we cannot open it inside," she warned. "It does not open this side unless you have the key. It opens from without. But he will not come in now—he is at the Khedive's palace. We are all right."
"But I want to get away," cried Arlee. She turned upon this other girl great eyes of pitiful entreaty12, eyes where the dark shadows about them lay like cruel bruises13 on the white flesh. "I must get away at once. Won't you help me?"
"Help you? I would help myself, if I could. But there is no way out. It is no use." The unknown girl spoke14 with a bitterness that brought conviction. Piteously the flare15 of hope and spirit wilted16.
"You are sure?" she questioned faintly. "There is no way out?"
"No way, no way!" The other shook her head impatiently. "Do I not know? Let us talk of that again. Now I came to see you, to see what pretty face had sent me packing!" She laughed, but there was ugliness in the laughter, and catching17 up the candle she held it before Arlee, her face impudently18 close, her eyes black darts19 of curiosity.
"Well you are pretty enough," she said coolly. "Hamdi has always the good taste. But do you think you will keep my room from me—h'm?"
"I do not want your room," said Arlee with passionate20 intensity21. "I do not want to stay here. I want only to go away. Oh, there must be a way. Please help me—please." She choked and broke down, the tears hot in her eyes.
''I do not want to stay here''
"'I do not want to stay here'"
The other girl abruptly22 drew her down on the couch and settled herself beside her among the cushions. "Here—be comfortable—let us be comfortable and talk," she said. "Do not cry so—What, you are so soon sorry? You want to be off?"
Desperately23 Arlee steadied her shaking voice. "I must go at once."
"You got enough so soon?"
"Enough!" was the quivering echo.
"What you come for then?"
"Come for? I did not know what I was coming into. I thought—but tell me," she broke off to demand, "tell me about the plague. Was there any quarantine at all? How soon was it over? What is really happening?"
"Quar—quar—what you mean?"
"The plague? Has there been a plague here? Have people had to stay in the palace on account of it?"
"Oh—h!" The indrawn breath was eloquent24 of enlightenment. "Is that somethings he said to you?"
"Yes, yes. Isn't it true? Wasn't there any plague?"
With eyes of dreadful apprehension25 she saw the other shake her head in vigorous denial. "No plague," she said decisively. "My maid—she know everything. No sickness here."
"Then it was all a lie." Arlee's eyes fixed26 themselves on the dancing candle flame, swaying in the soft night air. She tried to think very coolly and collectedly, but her brain felt numb27 and fogged and heavy. The sight of that tortured candle flame hypnotized her. Faintly she whispered, "Then it was all—an excuse," and, at that, sharp terror, like a knife, cleaved28 her numbness29. She turned furiously to her visitor.
"But he would not dare make it all up!"
She saw the callousness30 of the shrug32. "Why not—he is the master here!" Her own heart echoed fearfully the words. She stammered33, "But—but I wrote—I had a letter—there must——"
"What in all the world are you saying?" demanded the other. "What is this story?" and as Arlee began the quick, whispered narration34 she listened intently, her little dark head on one side, nodding wisely at intervals35.
"So—you came to have tea," she repeated at the close, in her quaintly36 inflected, foreign-sounding English. "And you stay because of the plague? So?"
"But I wrote—I wrote to my friends and——"
"And gave him the letters!"
"But I had a letter from my friends—or a telegram rather." Arlee knitted her brows in furious thought. "And it sounded like her."
"Does he know her, that friend?" questioned the other and at Arlee's nod, "Then he could write it himself—that is easy on telegraph paper. He is so clever, that devil, Hamdi."
"But my friends knew where I was going"—slowly the mind turned back to trace the blind, careless steps of that afternoon. "At least he said he'd leave a note—Oh, what a fool I was!" she broke off to gasp37, seeing how that forethought of his, that far-sighted remark, had prevented her from leaving a note of her own. And she remembered now, with flashing clearness, that upon her arrival he had carelessly inquired if she, too, had left a note of explanation. How lightly she had told him no! And what unguessed springs of action came perhaps from that single word! For so cleverly had the trap been swiftly prepared that if anything had gone wrong, if anyone had become aware of her intentions, it could have passed off as a visit and she would have returned to her hotel prattling38 joyously39 of her wonderful glimpse into the seclusion40 of Turkish aristocracy!
"But the soldier with the bayonet," she said aloud. "There was one on the stairs."
"A servant."
"Oh, if I had passed him!"
"You could not—he would run you through on a nod from Hamdi. They watch that stairs always—day and night."
Day and night—and she was alone here, in this grim palace, alone and helpless and forsaken41.... What were her friends thinking about her? Where did they think she was? Her thoughts beat desperately upon that problem, trying to find there some ray of hope, some promise that there were clues which would lead them to her, but she found nothing there but deeper mystery and fearful surmise42. He was clever enough to cover his traces. No one had known of his connection with her departure.... Perhaps he had sent them some false and misleading message like the one he had sent her.... What were they thinking? What did they believe? This was Friday night, and she had been gone since Thursday afternoon.
In that moment she saw with merciless clarity the bitter straits that she was in.
"Oh, he is a devil!" her companion was reaffirming with an angry little half-whisper sibilant with fury. "Look how he treat me—me, Fritzi Baroff! You do not know me? You do not know that name? In Vienna it is not so unknown—Oh, God, I was so happy in Vienna!" She stopped, her breast heaving, with the flare of emotion, then went on quickly, with suppressed vehemence43, "I was a singer—in the light opera. I dance, too, and I was arriving. Only this year I was to have a fine r?le—and it all went, zut, it all went for that man! I was one fool about him, and his dark eyes and his strange ways.... I thought I had a prince. And he worship me then, too—he follow me, he give me big diamonds.... So he take me here—it was to be the vacation!"
She gave a strangling little laugh. Arlee was listening with a painful intensity. She was living, she thought, in an Arabian nights.
"I stay at the hotel first till he make this like a private apartment for me," went on the little dancer, "and when I come here he do everything for me. I have luxury, yes, jewels and dresses and a fine new car. Then, by and by, I grow tired. It was always the same and he was at the palace, much. And he would not let me make acquaintance. We quarrel, but still I have a fancy for him, and then, you understand, money is not always so easy to find. Life can be hard. But I get more restless, I want to go back on the stage and I, well, I write some letters that he finds out. Bang, goes the door upon me! He laugh like a fiend. He say that I am to be a little Turkish lady to the end of my life. Oh, God, he shut me up like a prisoner in this place, and I can do nothing—nothing—nothing!"
She beat out angry emphasis on the palm of one hand with a clenched44 little fist. "I go nearly mad. I lose my head. He laugh—he is like that. He is a devil when he turns against you, and, you understand, he had somethings new to play with now.... Sometimes he seem to love me as before, and then I would grow soft and coax45 that he take me to Europe some day, and then when I think he mean it—Oh, how he laugh!" She drew in her breath sharply. "Sometimes I think he will take me again—sometime—but I cannot tell. And the days never end. They are terrible. My youth is going, going. And my youth is all I have."
She looked at Arlee with eyes where her terror was visible, and all the lines of her pretty, common little face were changed and sharpened, and her babyish lips dragged down strangely at the corners.
A surge of pity went through Arlee Beecher. "Oh, you will escape," she heard herself saying eagerly. "And I will escape—or—or——"
"Or?"
"Or I will kill myself," she whispered quiveringly.
The little Viennese stared hard at her, and a sudden crinkle of amusement darted across the bright shallows of her eyes. "Come, love is not so bad," she said, "and Hamdi can be charming." Then as she saw a shudder46 run through the young girl before her, "Oh, if you do not fancy him!" she cried airily, yet with a keen look.
But Arlee's two hands sought and covered up the scarlet shame in her face. She did not cry; she felt that every tear in her was dried in that bitter flame. Her whole body seemed on fire, burning with fury and revulsion and that awful sense of humiliation47.
The other stirred restively48, "Come, do not cry—I hate people to cry. It makes everything so worse. And do not talk of killing49. It is not so easy anyway, that killing. Do I not think I will die and end all when my rage is hot—but how? How? I cannot beat my head out against the wall like a Russian. I cannot stick a penknife in my throat or eat glass. To do that one must be a monster of courage. And I have no poison to eat, no gas to turn on.... Then the mood goes and the day is bright and I look in the glass and say, 'Die? Die for you? Kill all this beautiful young thing that has such joy to dance and sing? Never! Some day I will be out of this and laugh at the memory of such blackness.' And so I practice my voice and my steps—and I wait my chance. When you came, yesterday, first I was furious to be pushed out, then I think it is the chance, maybe. I think you would be glad to help me to get out and not to stay to make you jealous. But if you are also in the trap——" Her voice fell dispiritedly. She drew a long, weary breath.
"But I shall not stay in the trap." Arlee spoke with desperate resolve, her eyes on the sputtering50 candle, her palms against her burning cheeks, her finger tips pressed into her throbbing51 temples. "I shall not let him make me afraid like this. He must know he will be found out—he cannot play like this with an American girl! I shall face him to-morrow. I shall demand my freedom. I shall tell him that I did tell people at the hotel—that he will be discovered. I will make him afraid!"
"You cannot. He watches what happens on the outside—he knows."
After a pause, "Oh, why did I come!" said Arlee in choking bitterness.
The little dancer turned, and, sitting there cross-legged on the couch like a squat52 little idol53, her chin sunk in her palm, her dark eyes staring unwinkingly at Arlee, gave the girl a long, strange scrutiny54.
"You do not like him?" she said.
"I hate him!"
"But you came to tea?"
"To meet his sister. To see the palace."
"His sister? Did he show you one?"
"Yes—a woman with red hair. A Turkish woman. She spoke French to me."
"Ah—that would be Seniha!"
"Seniha? I don't know. She played the piano. Has he more than one sister?"
But as she put the question a sudden flash of intuition forestalled55 the dancer's mocking cry of "Sister!" And as Fritzi hurried on, "He has no sister—not here, anyway," Arlee's thoughts ran back to the beginning of that very evening which seemed so long ago when she had plunged56 wildly into those unknown rooms, and saw again that painted, jeweled woman with her outstretched arms.
"She is his wife," the Viennese was saying.
"I—I did not know that he was married."
"Oh, Turkish marriages." The other shrugged57, with a contempt a trifle droll58 in one who had dispensed59 with every ceremony. "She was his second. The first was a little girl, he said. The match was made for him. She is dead. This Seniha was her cousin, a cousin who was divorced and she lived with the wife. And our pretty Hamdi made love to her, and she was mad about him and so, presently, it happens that he must marry her, for it would be terrible to have disgrace upon the wife's family. Besides the first wife had no children. So he married her. But she had no children. It was all one fairy story." Fritzi laughed under her breath in great enjoyment60. "So Hamdi was cheated and he has been a devil to her. The first little wife dies and he shut the second up here, teasing her sometimes, sometimes making love when he is dull, but forcing her to his will for fear he will divorce her.... How she must have hated you, when she had to play that sister. Except that she was glad that I was being put aside," the dancer added with quick spite. "I think she would put poison in my meat if she did not fear Hamdi so.... And always she hopes that he will come back to her. I have seen her waiting, night after night——"
And Arlee thought of the jewels and the silks ... and the long, long, silent hours.... Slowly she put out her hand and snuffed out the smoking wick, then raised her eyes to where the painted bars stretched black across the starry61 square of sky. "Won't she help?" she asked.
"Not she! Hamdi would find her out.... Not through her can you get word to your friends. For you have friends here? And they will help you? And then you will help me?"
"Oh, yes, if I can get help," promised Arlee. "But I am afraid my friends have gone up the Nile—and there are just—just one or two left in Cairo that would help. And I must get word to them at once. What is the best way? Couldn't I push a note through the windows on the street? Someone might see that!"
"Yes, the doorkeeper. No, that is not safe.... If only that girl were sure——"
"Mariayah?" cried Arlee.
"No, the other—the little one with the wart62 over her eye. Have you seen her? Well, watch for her, then. She has an itching63 palm—she may help. But only in little things, of course, for she is afraid. And I have no money left and she is afraid to take a jewel."
"I have almost no money," said Arlee blankly. "Only a letter of credit——"
"A letter of nothing here! But promise her your friends will give much."
"Would she mail a letter?"
"Have you stamps? No? She is so ignorant that is an obstacle. And the post is distant and she dare not go far. But sometimes the baker64 sends a little boy, and if you had money to give she might get a note to him to carry—though, maybe, she burns the note and keeps the money," the Viennese ended pessimistically.
"But I must get help at once," Arlee iterated passionately65. Before——"
"Before?" the other repeated curiously66, "He makes love to you—h'm?"
"He—is beginning."
"Only beginning?"
"Only—beginning." Arlee felt the girl's strange, hard scrutiny through the dark. Then she heard her draw a quick breath as if her eyes on Arlee's flower-like face had convinced her of something against all her sorry little reason.
"Well, that is good then," she said. "Try to keep him off. What does he promise you?"
"Promise me? He does not promise anything."
"But he must say something—what is between you—what?" demanded the other impatiently.
Briefly67, her shamed cheeks grateful for the shadows, Arlee told of that walk in the garden, of the flowers and the letter, the scene after dinner. And the other girl's eyes grew wider and wider, and then finally she burst into a smothered68 little laugh.
"Oh, he is mad, that Hamdi!" she whispered. "He is a monster of vanity—'conquest of the spirit'—h'm, I comprehend. That young man has a pride beyond all sense. You dazzle him—he is in love again like a boy. And he must dazzle you. His pride demands a victory not of force alone.... Some men are like that.... Well, that is your chance!"
"My chance?"
"Play with his vanity—fight his force with that!" said this strange initiator into terrible secrets. "He will believe anything of his fascinations—I know him. And if he is so mad for you that he dares all this trouble to have you here, then he is so mad that you can fool him and make him hold back in hopes to gain more from you. Make him think you are coming, as he wishes, heart and body, but still you would wait a little. So you gain time.... Oh, you must be careful! If he loses hope, if you anger him, why the game is over. But if you are careful you can gain a few days——"
"A few days," said Arlee in a tense little voice.
"Well, that is something—since you hate him so!"
"Yes, that is something." Arlee drew a shivering breath, her head drooping69, her lashes70 on her cheeks. Then suddenly, amazingly, her chin came pluckily71 up, her soft lips set with desperate decision, her eyes turned on her counselor72 a look of flashing spirit. She was like some young wild thing at bay, harried73, defiant74, tensely defensive75. Something of the pathos76 of her innocent presence there, in that evil palace, utterly77 alone, hopelessly defiant, penetrated78 for an instant the callous31 acceptances of the little dancer and her eyes softened79 with facile sympathy, but the impression dulled, and she only nodded her head encouragingly.
"Good! That is the way! Women can always act!" she murmured, slipping off the divan80 and drawing her fluttering robes about her. "But it is very late and I must go—it is not safe to stay so."
"Where is your room? Could I get to you?"
"No—for you cannot open that panel on the inside—unless you can steal the key from him as I could not! My room—for this present, little one," and her eyes laughed suddenly in challenge, "is up on the top—a little old room all alone. My doors are locked, but there is a panel in my room, too, a panel at the top of tiny stairs, and the lock on that panel is so old and rusty81 that a knife make it open. So I pushed it open and came down the tiny stairs that end out there in the passage way, and I opened your panel. Now I must steal back, but I shall come again, and we must plan."
"But where does this secret passage go?" Arlee had followed over the bed, and held aside the heavy draperies while the little Baroff was pushing the panel softly and carefully open. Eagerly Arlee peered out into the darkness beyond. "Where does it go?" she repeated.
"It runs above the hall of banquets and into the selamlik," whispered the Viennese. "It opens into Hamdi's rooms, he says, and I know that a servant sleeps always at his door and another is at the foot of the stairs. So it would be madness to try that way."
But Arlee stared thoughtfully into the secret place. "I am glad I know," she said.
"Well, good-by, little one." The Viennese was standing82 outside now, softly closing the door. For a moment her face remained in the opening. "You will not tell Hamdi that I came—no?" she demanded sharply, and then on Arlee's quick reassurance83 she nodded, whispered good-by again, and drew back her little face.
The wall rolled into place and a gentle click told of the caught lock. The curtains fell back over the wall. And Arlee was left huddling84 there alone, feeling that it had all been a dream, but for the heavy scent85 that lingered in the air and the wild fear beating in her heart.
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收听单词发音
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1
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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daze
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| v.(使)茫然，(使)发昏 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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7
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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insouciant
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| adj.不在意的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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catching
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impudently
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darts
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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intensity
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abruptly
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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cleaved
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| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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numbness
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callousness
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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stammered
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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restively
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| adv.倔强地，难以驾御地 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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forestalled
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| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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wart
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| n.疣，肉赘；瑕疵 | |
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itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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pluckily
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| adv.有勇气地，大胆地 | |
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counselor
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| n.顾问，法律顾问 | |
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harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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84
huddling
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| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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