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Sindbad On Burrator
by
“‘How should it oblige Hassan?’ I asked.
“‘Because Hassan could not see or hear my lord and lover without longing to possess such a man for his very own. As who could?’ And here she blew me a kiss.
“‘Thank you, jewel of my heart,’ said I; ‘but yet I don’t see. Was it me he wanted, or the bombardon?’
“‘I fancy he thought of you together; but of course he did not ask for the big thing–that would have been greedy. He would be content with the little one, the what-you-call cornet; and–don’t you see?’
“‘No doubt it’s stupid of me, my dear,’ said I, ‘but I’ll be shot if I do.’
“She was sitting with a lapful of pandanus leaves, blue and green, weaving a mat of them while we talked, and had just picked out a beater from the tools scattered round her–a flat piece of board with a bevilled edge, and shaped away to a handle. ‘Stupid!’ she says to me, just like so, and at the same time raps me over the hand smartly. ‘He thought–if peradventure there came to us a little one–‘
“‘With a what-you-call cornet?’–I clapped my hand to my mouth over a guffaw; and, with that, She–who had started laughing too–came to a stop, with her eyes fastened on the back of it. I saw them stiffen, and the pretty round pupils draw in and shrink to narrow slits like a cat’s, and her arm went back slowly behind her, and her bosom leaned nearer and nearer. I thought she was going to spring at me, and as my silly laugh died out I turned my hand and held it palm outward, to fend her off. On the back of it was a drop of blood where the bevelled edge of the beater had by accident broken the skin.
“Somehow this movement of mine seemed to fetch her to bearings. Her hand came slowly forward again, hesitated, seemed to hover for a moment at her throat, then went swiftly down to her bosom between bodice and flesh, and came up again tugging after it what looked to me a piece of coarse thread. She tossed it into my lap as I still sat there cross-legged, and with that sprang up and raced away from me, down to the verandah. There was no chance of catching her, and I was (to tell the truth) a bit too much taken aback to try. I picked up the string. On it was threaded a silk purse no bigger than a shilling; and from this I shook into my palm a small stone like an opal. I turned it over once or twice, put it back in the purse, and stowed string, purse, and all in my breeches’ pocket.
“I strolled down the verandah to our quarters in search of Aoodya, but the room was empty; and after that I’m afraid I smoked and sulked for the rest of the day, until nightfall. After playing the Hadji Hamid through his meal I went out to our favourite seat on the edge of the dry ditch, when she came to me out of nowhere across the withered grass of the compound.
“‘Have you the charm, O beloved?’ she whispered.
“‘Oh, it’s a charm, is it?’ said I, partly sulky yet.
“‘Yes, and you must never lose it–never part with it–never, above all, give it back to me. Promise me that, beloved; and I, who have wept much, am happy again.’
“So I promised, and she snuggled close to me, and all was as before. No more was said between us, and by next morning she seemed to have clean forgotten the affair. But I thought of it at times, and it puzzled me.
“Now, as I said, my master had taken a fancy to me quite apart from the bombardon, and a token of it was his constantly taking me out as companion on his walks. You may think it odd that he never troubled about my being an unbeliever–for of course he held by the Prophet, and so did all the islanders, Aoodya included. But in fact, though his people called themselves Mahommedans, each man treated his religion much as he chose, and Hamid talked to me as freely as if I had been his son.