In the main her story had the ring of truth. During the French occupation of Venice no woman had been safe in the streets at night, even when accompanied by a man. Bonaparte's fierce troops had pitched many such Italian escorts into the canals; so Roger knew that the Sergeant would not have hesitated to set his men on the unfortunate Ali. Her account of her flight from Cairo also sounded highly plausible. Yet there were certain discrepancies in her story that he meant to plumb. For the moment, he said only:
' You have certainly been through a terrible time these past few days, and particularly tonight. Although you rested and fed a few hours ago, no doubt you would like some refreshment.'
'1 am not hungry, monsieur,' she replied, ' but I would like something to drink, provided it is not wine.'
Leaving her, he went out to the back of the premises. The previous day he had led a party to find and purchase by order, at any price he chose to fix, various delicacies for the Headquarters Mess. In a few houses owned by rich Copts he had found cellars of wine and had had the bulk of them transported to Murad's palace. But he had reserved several dozen for himself, and he now opened a bottle of rich Kamiros wine from Rhodes. Then he hunted round until he found some sherbet for his guest.
As he handed her the sherbet he said, ' Mademoiselle, from several things you have said, and your refusal of wine, it is clear to me that you are a Muslim. Yet you told me that you were the daughter of a French merchant. I find that strange.'
After hesitating a moment she replied, '1 said that because I thought it would carry more weight with you and those men. But it is my mother who is French and taught me that language.'
' What happened to her? Was she captured by the Arabs with the other women? '
' No, monsieur. Fortunately she was not in Cairo. She . . . she was divorced by my father and married again. She lives in ... in Syria.'
' But as a Frenchwoman, your mother was surely a Catholic. And, even if repudiated by her husband, her faith would not permit her to remarry.'
Zanthe looked away quickly. ' Things are different in Mohammedan countries. Everything was . . . well, arranged for her.'
Roger felt sure that his beautiful captive was lying, and not very cleverly, for she could quite well have said that her mother had become a Muslim. As he was wondering how best to get the truth out of her, she drank up her sherbet and said, '1 am tired now, and would like you to take me to a room where I can sleep.'
Nothing loath, Roger finished his glass of wine and stood up. ' We will go upstairs then. This house is not large, but it is comfortably furnished, and I will leave nothing undone to assure you a sound sleep.'
Taking with him his glass and the bottle, which was still two-thirds full, he led her up to the best bedroom of the house. The two oil-lamps in it had been left burning by his servant, and shed a gentle glow round the room. Its main feature was a huge divan bed. Setting down his bottle and glass on a small Moorish table inlaid with ivory, he locked the door.
'What are you about? ' Zanth6 exclaimed, her eyes widening. ' You cannot remain here, monsieur! '
' Indeed I can,' he smiled. ' This is my bedroom.'
'Then you must take me to another.'
His smile deepened. ' That would not be hospitable. Since you have lived in a harem, you are not used to sleeping alone; so you might wake up in the night and be frightened, and this divan is more than big.enough for both of us.'
' I refuse! ' she cried. ' I refuse to sleep in the same room with you.'
' My beautiful Zanthe, I fear you have no choice. I am loath to remind you of it, but you are now a slave, bought and paid for by me, and you will henceforth do as I tell you, without argument.'
'Then . . . then, monsieur, I demand that you respect me.'
Roger made no direct reply, but asked her, ' How old are you? '
'I am seventeen.'
' Excellent. I guessed you were somewhere about that. And now I will tell you something. In Mohammedan countries no girl as beautiful as you remains unmarried after she is fifteen. She is a valuable chattel and her father sees to it that by giving her to one of his friends he forms a useful alliance for his family.'
' That . . . that is true in most cases. But I ... I am an exception. My father allowed me to remain unmarried because . . . because I am half French. I am still a virgin. You cannot-'
'Were that so, I might have scruples. But even in France all pretty girls are married at your age. As to your virginity, there is an easy way by which I can find out.'
'You would not dare! ' she gasped.
' I certainly would,' he retorted quickly. ' And I will tell you another matter on which I believe you lied to me. All you told me about your father really applied to your husband. Come now. Am I not right? And, remember, you are my prisoner. Tomorrow I can set enquiries going about you, and in a few days a description of anyone so beautiful as yourself is certain to reveal the truth.'
Her angry eyes fell before his. ' Well . . . yes. It seems I must admit it.'
He smiled again. ' You also said he was no longer young, and was at times cruel; so it is clear that you can have had little love for him. That is a relief to me, for I should be reluctant to force a widow of a few days who was grieving deeply for a much-loved husband.'
' So you mean to force me! ' she flared.
'1 trust not. Must I remind you that barely an hour ago I saved you from a most terrible ordeal at the hands of six ruffians, who would later have hired you out to scores of their comrades. Since you are a fully experienced woman, I should have thought you would be happy to reward me.'
' You did only what any decent man would have done. It was Allah, blessed be the name of His Prophet, who saved me. The fate of every one of us is bound about his brow, and I was not born to be taken like an animal by any man who wants me.'
'Listen, madame,' Roger said earnestly. 'It was no doubt the will of Allah that brought me, and no one else, to your rescue. Had you been some other woman the odds are that I would have left you with those men. But if one can fall in love at first sight then I did so with you. I am an officer on the Staff of the General-in-Chief, so I can protect you. And now that your husband is dead you need a protector. I am also rich enough to give you everything in reason that you want. While I remain in Cairo this pleasant little house will make a charming home for us. When I have to leave I will arrange with the Garrison Commander for a continuance of your protection. Other women have accounted me a good lover and a kind one. I do not threaten now, but beseech you. Will you not accept my homage, allow me to become your slave instead of your being mine, and grant me this night that which is now my dearest wish? '
Coming from as fine a man as Roger, it was a declaration that would have flattered any woman. Few, had they been under such an obligation as Zanth£ was, would have hardened their hearts against such an appeal. But she violently shook her head and cried:
' No! No! No! Even if I believed all you said I would not be willing. To give myself to you would be to disgrace my blood. You are an enemy. Nobody believes the lies told by your General— that he has come here as the friend of Turkey and only to chastise the Mamelukes. We are not ignorant of what he did in Italy: of how he snared the people into believing that he was bringing them liberty, then trampled on them and robbed them of all they possessed. That is what he means to do here. He comes as a conqueror, to despoil our country and make us into slaves. And you, Monsieur le Colonel, have admitted to being on his Staff; so you must lend yourself willingly to the evil that he does. No! If it be my fate to be taken against my will I would rather it should be by an honest Arab bandit.'
Roger listened with amazement to her outburst. It had not occurred to him that she would regard him in such a light, and he was half inclined to think that she was making a show of patriotism only as another excuse for repulsing him. After a moment he said with a frown:
' Madame, I fail to understand you. This is neither the time nor place for us to enter on a discussion of General Bonaparte's
principles. At least no one can deny that he is a great soldier and that his victories have brought glory to France. Since you are half French one would expect you to be no less than neutral and have some admiration for him. But all this is irrelevant to our situation. I give not a damn how you feel on such matters. The night grows old and I have no mind to parley with you further. Under the age-old usages of war you are now mine, to do with as I will, and I have made clear my intentions. Oblige me by getting yourself undressed.'
Her tawny eyes flashed. 'I refuse! I refuse to display myself naked before you.'
' About that we shall see,' he said grimly. Then he began to take off his clothes.
As he did so, he was thinking with distress of how the delightful visions he had had of what would happen when he got her up to the bedroom had been rudely shattered. An Eastern beauty of seventeen was the equivalent of a woman of twenty-five in Europe; so he had felt certain that she must have been married for some years. That being so, in view of what she owed him he had not expected to have any trouble with her. A becoming display of reluctance, no doubt, soon overcome by a little playful teasing. Then an acceptance of the will of Allah, followed by a sweet rhapsody of passion.
Instead he would now have to take her by force; and he had never had the least inclination for that sort of love-making for, to him, it robbed the act of the major part of its pleasure. He had taken a woman that way only once—the cynically promiscuous but beautiful Natalia Androvna—and then only to teach her a lesson for having given him a rendezvous and, instead of keeping it, having had him set upon and whipped for her amusement.
Yet he meant to take the lovely Zanthe. It was getting on for six months since he had parted from Georgina. He had lived with her only for six weeks and before that had endured a period of continence of ten months since the tragic death of Clarissa. As a very virile man his need for a woman was, therefore, great, and all the greater now that he had found one who satisfied his exceptionally high standards. He felt not the faintest scruple about the morality of the matter. He was doing no more and no less than hundreds of soldiers were doing that night in Cairo, and had done all over the world in conquered countries from time immemorial.
Having stripped to the buff, he slipped on a silk robe that he had bought the previous day, and poured himself another glass of wine, drank it off and advanced on Zanthe. She had been standing by the big divan with her back half turned, so as to avert her eyes from him while he was undressing. In a final effort to render her complaisant he said:
' My very dear and beautiful Zanthe. Once more I beg you to be reasonable. As you have been married you know what to expect and have naught to fear. Your husband is dead and you had no love for him. As a woman of French extraction you cannot really regard me as an enemy. Were it not for me you would now be going through hell upon bare boards, under a succession of filthy, brutal ruffians, and-'
'1 should not,' she cut him short. '1 should have killed myself.'
' Oh, come! ' he protested.' That is easier said than done; unless you have a swift poison on you.'
' No! ' she cried. ' With this! ' And, with a sudden movement, she whipped out a razor-sharp, jewel-hilted stiletto from under her black robes.
Roger took a swift pace back. '1 see!' he exclaimed. Then he laughed. ' Now that gives me real pleasure. The fact that you are armed removes my last scruple about using force upon you. If you can protect yourself with that ugly weapon, even should you wound me seriously I will have you escorted to your home in the morning. If not you must submit to being ravished and delight in it, as did primitive woman with primitive man after he had fought with her and dragged her to his cave.'
Zanthe made no reply. She was breathing fast, but her eyes were now narrowed and fearless; and she held her dagger well back, ready to plunge it into him.
For a moment they eyed one another cautiously. Then he snatched up a cushion and threw it at her head. She ducked and glared at him. He laughed and threw another. Again, with an agile movement, she swayed her body sideways, so that it passed over her shoulder. Turning away he poured the last glass of wine from the bottle with leisurely inconsequence. Returning, he confronted her and said, still smiling, 'You enchanting little fool. It is quite futile for you to exert yourself.' Then he raised the glass to his lips and drank again.
Seizing the advantage he had given her by tilting back his head, she raised her dagger and, her eyes blazing at his provocation, leapt at him. But he was ready for her. Instantly his glass came down and he flung its remaining contents straight in her face. Temporarily blinded by the wine, her rush ended in a stumble. Dropping the glass, he seized in one hand the wrist that held the dagger, twisted it from her with the other and flung it behind him to the far end of the room.
As she reeled back, still blinded, he gave her a violent push, his mouth now set in a hard line. The backs of her knees came in sharp contact with the edge of the divan. Her feet shot from beneath her and she fell prostrate upon it. Next moment, ignoring her screams for help, his hands were tearing at her black garments, wrenching them off, to reveal first her bosom then her torso. Beneath her outer garments she was wearing a belt of gold net, set with precious stones, and a pair of voluminous red silk trousers, caught in at the ankles with gold bands. Holding her down with one hand, he tore those away with the other until she had not a vestige of clothing left on her.
For a moment he stood back while, panting and gasping, she tried to get the stinging wine out of her eyes by rubbing them with her knuckles. Staring down at her naked body he saw with delight that it was as perfect as her face. Her breasts were full and stood up proudly, her hips were beautifully rounded and her legs were longer in proportion to her body than those of the average woman.
'Now! ' he cried breathlessly. 'Now, will you give in? ' ' No! ' Her voice came in a hoarse shout. ' Never! Never! ' His response was to fling himself on her. For a few minutes she struggled wildly, endeavouring to claw his face and bite his
chin. But he jerked his head away and beat down her hands. Suddenly her body contracted beneath him and she gave a sharp scream. Then, just as suddenly, her limbs relaxed and she began to moan. He had often heard women moan like that and knew that it was from pleasure. Another few moments and she became as wild with passion as himself. Her arms came round him and clasped him in a vice. In Turkish she cried out some phrase to Allah that he could not interpret. Then it was all over.
Exhausted by their transports, they lay side by side, his arm encircling her neck. After a while she pulled away from him, turned her face to the wall and began to cry quietly. He knew the reason for her tears, and felt badly about them. In one thing, at least, she had not lied to him. She had, after all, proved to be a virgin. That accounted for the prolonged resistance she had put up, and it seemed evident now that her husband must have been a homosexual. But nothing could now undo what had been done and Roger endeavoured to comfort himself with the thought that she had suffered little by comparison with the fate that would have been hers at the hands of the men from whom he had rescued her. The dawn was already filtering through the curtains, and he fell asleep.
It seemed that he had scarcely closed his eyes when he was roused by Marbois knocking on the door. Bonaparte was an early riser and expected his Staff to be in attendance the moment he was ready to transact business. Roger would have given a great deal to have been able to remain, comfort Zanthd with sweet words and, perhaps, make love to her again. But he dared not linger. She was lying on her side in a deep sleep; so he crept out from under the light coverlet he had pulled over them before going to sleep, dressed very quietly and left the room, locking the door behind him.
Downstairs he drank the coffee that the servants had prepared for him, and ravenously demolished a plateful of sweet cakes. Then he called for Marbois and said to him, 'I brought a lady home with me last night. She is up in the bedroom still asleep. Do not disturb her; but wait till she calls, then take her up anything she may ask for to break her fast. But
on no account is she to be allowed to leave the bedroom or speak to the native servants. Keep her locked in, and I'll be back as soon as I can.' Buckling on his sword, he hurried round to headquarters.
For an hour he stood about with several of the other aides-decamp in the ante-chamber, then Bonaparte asked for him. After giving him one swift glance, his master proceeded to stuff some sheets of paper, covered with close writing, into a thick envelope and seal it while he said:
' I have already sent a despatch to the Directors, describing the Battle of the Pyramids. This is another, reporting my occupation of Cairo. I have selected you to carry it because, as you speak Arabic, you should meet fewer impediments to speed in the towns and villages through which you must pass. I have, several times, already pointed out to Admiral Brueys the folly of risking an encounter with the British Fleet by remaining on the Egyptian coast, and have urged him to seek safety by returning to Toulon; or, at least, under the guns of Malta. I hope that by the time you reach Alexandria you will find that he has sailed. If so, he will have left several frigates there to carry despatches to France. In that case, give the despatch to the Captain of one of them and tell him to have it forwarded with all speed from the first port under French control that he can reach. Should Brueys still be loitering there, give it to him and tell him from me to delay no longer but be gone. Take any escort you desire and leave immediately.'
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