Khaled F. Marion Crawford (best romance novels of all time .TXT) 📖

in the desert, and it cannot be helped. I desire to tell you that I have heard of a tale concerning me which is circulated from mouth to ear throughout Riad and the whole kingdom. This tale is untrue, a lie such as no honest man repeats even to his own wife at home in the harem. For it is said that I am not called Khaled, but perhaps Ali Hassan, or perhaps Ali Hussein, that I am a Shiyah, a wine-bibber and an idolatrous one who prays for the intercession of Ali, besides being a Persian and a robber. It is also said that I plot to deliver over the kingdom of Nejed to the Persians, though how this could be done I do not know, seeing that the Persians are a meal-faced people of white jackals who do not know how to ride a camel. These are all lies. I swear by Allah.”

When the men heard these words, they looked stealthily one at another, to see who would answer Khaled, for they had all heard the story and most of them were inclined to believe it. Peace is the mother of evil-speaking, as garbage breeds flies in a corner, which afterwards fly into clean houses and men ask whence they come. But none of the chief men found anything to say at first, so that Khaled sat in silence a long time, waiting for someone to speak. He therefore turned to the one nearest to him, and addressed him.

“Have you heard this tale?” he inquired. “And if you have heard it do you believe it?”

“I think, indeed, that I have heard something of the kind,” answered the man. “But it was as the chattering of an uncertain vision in a dream, which rings in the ears for a moment while it is yet dark in the morning, but is forgotten when the sun rises. By the instrumentality of a just mind Allah caused that which entered at one ear to run out from the other as the rinsing of a water-skin.”

“Good,” answered Khaled. “Yet it is not well to rinse the brains with falsehoods. And you?” he inquired, turning to the next. “Have you heard it also?”

“Just lord, I have heard,” replied this one. “But if I have believed, may my head be shaved with a red-hot razor having a jagged edge.”

“This is well,” Khaled said, and he questioned a third.

“O Khaled!” cried the man. “Is the milk sour, because the slave has imagined a lie saying, ‘I will say it is bad and then it will be given to me to drink’? Or is honey bitter because the cook has put salt in the sweetmeats? Or is it night because the woman has shut the door and the window, to keep out the sun?”

The next also found an answer, having collected his thoughts while the others were speaking.

“A certain man,” said he, “kept sheep in Tabal Shammar, and the dog was with the sheep in the fold. Then two foxes came to the fold in the evening and one of them said to the man: ‘All dogs are wolves, for we have seen their like in the mountains, and your dog is also a wolf and will eat up your sheep. Make haste to kill him therefore and cast out his carcase.’ And to the sheep the other fox said: ‘How many sheep hang by the heels at the butcher’s! And how many dogs live in sheepfolds! This is an evil world for innocent people.’ And the sheep were at first persuaded, but presently the dog ran out and caught one of the foxes and broke his neck, and the man threw a stone at the other and hit him, so that he also died. Then the sheep said one to another: ‘The foxes have suffered justly, for they were liars and robbers and the dog and our master have protected us against them, which they would not have done had they desired our destruction.’ And so are the people, O Khaled. For if you let the liars go unhurt the people will believe them, but if you destroy them the faith of the multitude will be turned again to you.”

“This is a fable,” said Khaled, “and it is not without truth. I am the sheepdog and the people are the sheep. But in the name of Allah, which are the foxes?”

Then he turned to another, an old man who was the Kadi, celebrated for his wisdom and for his religious teaching in the chief mosque.

“I ask you last of all,” said Khaled, “because you are the wisest, and when the wisest words are heard last they are most easily remembered. For we first put water into the lamp, and then oil to float upon the surface, and next the wick, and last of all we take a torch and light the lamp and the darkness disappears. Light our lamp, therefore, O Kadi, and let us see clearly.”

“O Khaled,” replied the Kadi, “I am old and have seen the world. You cannot destroy the tree by cutting off one or two of its branches. It is necessary to strike at the root. Now the root of this tree of lies which has grown up is this. Neither we nor the people know whence you are, nor what was your father’s name, and though I for my part do not impiously ask whence Allah takes the good gifts which he gives to men, there are many who are not satisfied, and who will go about in jealousy to make trouble until their questioning is answered. If you ask counsel of me, I say, tell us here present of what tribe you are, for we believe you a pure Bedouin like the best of us, and tell us your father’s name, and peace be upon him. We are men in authority and will speak to the people, and I will address them from the pulpit of the great mosque,