In The Levant 39

In The Levant 39

The principal champion of Abd-el-Atti was Mohammed Achmed, the dragoman

of two American ladies who had been travelling in Egypt and Palestine.

Achmed was a character. He had the pure Arab physiognomy, the vivacity

of an Italian, the restlessness of an American, the courtesy of the most

polished Oriental, and a unique use of the English tongue. Copious

in speech, at times flighty in manner, gravely humorous, and more

sharp-witted than the "cutest" Yankee, he was an exceedingly experienced

and skilful dragoman, and perfectly honest to his employers. Achmed was

clad in baggy trousers, a silk scarf about his waist, short open jacket,

and wore his tarboosh on the back of his sloping head. He had a habit

of throwing back his head and half closing his wandering, restless black

eyes in speaking, and his gestures and attitudes might have been called

theatrical but for a certain simple sincerity; yet any extravagance of

speech or action was always saved from an appearance of absurdity by a

humorous twinkle in his eyes. Alexandria was his home, while Abd-el-Atti

lived in Cairo; the natural rivalry between the dragomans of the two

cities had been imbittered by some personal disagreement, and they were

only on terms of the most distant civility. But Abd-el-Atti's misfortune

not only roused his national pride, but touched his quick generosity,

and he surprised his employers by the enthusiasm with which he espoused

the cause and defended the character of the man he had so lately

regarded as anything but a friend. He went to work with unselfish zeal

to procure his release; he would think of nothing else, talk of nothing

else.

 

"How is it, Achmed," they said, "that you and Abd-el-Atti have suddenly

become such good friends?"

 

"Ah, my lady," answers Achmed, taking an attitude, "you know not

Abd-el-Atti, one of the first-class men in all Egypt. Not a common

dragoman like these in Beyrout, my lady; you shall ask in Cairo what a

man of esteem. To tell it in Cairo that he is in jail! Abd-el-Atti is my

friend. What has been sometime, that is nothing. It must not be that he

is in jail. And he come out in half an hour, if your consul say so."

 

"That is not so certain; but what can we do?"

 

"Write to the consul American that he shall let Abd-el-Atti go. You, my

lady," said Achmed, throwing himself on his knees before the person he

was addressing, "make a letter, and say I want my dragoman immediate.

If he will not, I go to the English consul, I know he will do it. Excuse

me, but will you make the letter? When it was the English consul, he

does something; when it was the American, I pick your pargin, my lady,

he is not so much esteem here."

 

In compliance with Achmed's entreaty a note was written to the consul,

but it produced no effect, except an uncivil reply that it was after

office hours.

 

When I returned, Achmed was in a high fever of excitement. He believed

that Abd-el-Atti would be released if I would go personally to the

consul and insist upon it.

 

"The consul, I do not know what kind of man this is for consul; does he

know what man is Abd-el-Atti? Take my advice," continued Achmed, half

closing his eyes, throwing back his head and moving it alertly on the

axis of his neck, and making at the same time a deprecatory gesture

with the back of his hands turned out,--"take my advice, Mesr. Vahl,

Abd-el-Atti is a man of respect; he is a man very rich, God forgive me!

Firste-class man. There is no better family in Egypt than Abd-el-Atti

Effendi. You have seen, he is the friend of governors and pashas. There

is no man of more respect. In Cairo, to put Abd-el-Atti in jail, they

would not believe it! When he is at home, no one could do it. The

Khedive himself," he continued, warming with his theme, "would not touch

Abd-el-Atti. He has houses in the city and farms and plantations in

the country, a man very well known. Who in Cairo is to put him in jail?

[This, with a smile of derision.] I think he take out and put in prison

almost anybody else he like, Mohammed Effendi Abd-el-Atti. See, when

this Ouardy comes in Egypt!"

 

We hastened to the consul's. I told the consul that I was deprived of

the service of my dragoman, that he was unjustly imprisoned, simply for

defending himself when he was assailed by a lot of rowdies, and that as

the complaint against him was supposed to issue from the consulate, I

doubted not that the consul's influence could release him. The consul

replied, with suavity, that he had nothing to do with the quarrel of

his dragoman, and was not very well informed about it, only he knew that

Ouardy had been outrageously assaulted and beaten by Abd-el-Atti; that

he could do nothing at any rate with the pasha, even if that functionary

had not gone to his harem outside the city, where nobody would disturb

him. I ventured to say that both the Ouardys had a very bad reputation

in the city,--it was, in fact, infamous,--and that the consulate was

brought into contempt by them. The consul replied that the reputation of

Antoine might be bad, but that his dragoman was a respectable merchant;

and then he complained of the missionaries, who had persecuted him

ever since he had been in Beyrout. I said that I knew nothing of his

grievances; that my information about his dragoman came from general

report, and from some of the bankers and most respectable citizens, and

that I knew that in this case my dragoman had been set upon in the first

instance, and that it was believed that the Ouardys were now attempting

to extort money from him, knowing him to be rich, and having got him

in, their clutches away from his friends. The consul still said that

he could do nothing that night; he was very sorry, very sorry for my

embarrassment, and he would send for Ouardy and advise him to relinquish

his prosecution on my account. "Very well," I said, rising to go, "if

you cannot help me I must go elsewhere. Will you give me a note of

introduction to the pasha?" He would do that with pleasure, although he

was certain that nothing would come of it.

 

Achmed, who had been impatiently waiting on the high piazza (it is a

charming situation overlooking the Mediterranean), saw that I had not

succeeded, and was for going at once to the English consul; for all

dragomans have entire confidence that English consuls are all-powerful.

 

"No," I said, "we will try the pasha, to whom I have a letter, though

the consul says the pasha is a friend of Ouardy."

 

"I believe you. Ouardy has women in his house; the pasha goes often

there; so I hear. But we will go. I will speak to the pasha also, and

tell him what for a man is Abd-el-Atti. A very pleasant man, the pasha,

and speak all languages, very well English."

 

It was encouraging to know this, and I began to feel that I could make

some impression on him. We took a carriage and drove into the suburbs,

to the house of the pasha. His Excellency was in his harem, and dining,

at that hour. I was shown by a barefooted servant into a barren parlor

furnished in the European style, and informed that the pasha would see

me presently. After a while cigarettes and coffee--a poor substitute for

dinner for a person who had had none--were brought in; but no pasha.

 

I waited there, I suppose, nearly an hour for the governor to finish his

dinner; and meantime composed a complimentary oration to deliver upon

his arrival. When his Excellency at last appeared, I beheld a large,

sleek Turk, whose face showed good-nature and self-indulgence. I had

hopes of him, and, advancing to salute him, began an apology for

disturbing his repose at this unseasonable hour, but his Excellency

looked perfectly blank. He did not understand a word of English. I gave

him the letter of the consul, and mentioned the name "American Consul."

The pasha took the letter and opened it; but as he was diligently

examining it upside down, I saw that he did not read English. I must

introduce myself.

 

Opening the door, I called Achmed. In coming into the presence of

this high rank, all his buoyancy and bravado vanished; he obsequiously

waited. I told him to say to his Excellency how extremely sorry I was to

disturb his repose at such an unseasonable hour, but that my dragoman,

whose services I needed, had been unfortunately locked up; that I was

an American citizen, as he would perceive by the letter from the consul,

and that I would detain him only a moment with my business. Achmed put

this into choice Arabic. His Excellency looked more blank than before.

He did not understand a word of Arabic. The interview was getting to be

interesting.

 

The pasha then stepped to the door and called in his dragoman, a

barefooted fellow in a tattered gown. The two interpreters stood in line

before us, and the pasha nodded to me to begin. I opened, perhaps,

a little too elaborately; Achmed put my remarks into Arabic, and the

second dragoman translated that again into Turkish. What the speech

became by the time it reached the ear of the pasha I could not tell, but

his face darkened at once, and he peremptorily shook his head. The word

came back to me that the pasha would n't let him out; Abd-el-Atti must

stay in jail till his trial. I then began to argue the matter,--to say

that there was no criminal suit against him, only an action for damages,

and that I would be responsible for his appearance when required. The

translations were made; but I saw that I was every moment losing ground;

no one could tell what my solicitations became after being strained

through Arabic and Turkish. My case was lost, because it could not be

heard.

 

Suddenly it occurred to me that the pasha might know some European

language. I turned to him, and asked him if he spoke German. O, yes! The

prospect brightened, and if I also had spoken that language, we should

have had no further trouble. However, desperation beat up my misty

recollection, and I gave the pasha a torrent of broken German that

evidently astonished him. At any rate, he became gracious as soon as he

understood me. He said that Abd-el-Atti was not confined on account of

the suit,--he knew nothing and cared nothing for his difficulty with

Ouardy,--but for his contempt of the police and soldiers. I explained

that, and added that Abd-el-Atti was an old man, that I had been

doctoring him for a fever ever since we were in Damascus, that I feared

to have him stay in that damp jail over Sunday, and that I would be

responsible for his appearance.

 

"Do you mean to say," he asked, "that you will be personally responsible

that he appears at the seraglio Monday morning?"

 

"Certainly," I said, "for his appearance at any time and place your

Excellency may name."

 

"Then he may go." He gave the order to his dragoman to accompany us and

procure his release, and we retired, with mutual protestations of the

highest consideration. Achmed was nearly beside himself with joy. The

horses seemed to him to crawl; he could n't wait the moment to announce

to Abd-el-Atti his deliverance. "Ah, they thought to keep Abd-el-Atti

in jail all night, and sent word to Cairo, 'Abd-el-Atti is in jail.'

Abd-el-Atti Effendi! Take my advice, a man of respect."