tartarin of tarascon- 第11部分

Naturally　a　man　does　not　write　to　a　Moorish　girl　in　Algiers　in　the　same　way　as　to　a　seamstress　of　Beaucaire。　　It　was　a　very　lucky　thing　that　our　hero　had　in　mind　his　numerous　readings；　which　allowed　him；　by　amalgamating　the　Red　Indian　eloquence　of　Gustave　Aimard's　Apaches　with　Lamartine's　rhetorical　flourishes　in　the　〃Voyage　en　Orient；〃　and　some　reminiscences　of　the　〃Song　of　Songs；〃　to　compose　the　most　Eastern　letter　that　you　could　expect　to　see。　　It　opened　with：

〃Like　unto　the　ostrich　upon　the　sandy　waste〃　

and　concluded　by：

〃Tell　me　your　father's　name；　and　I　will　tell　you　the　name　of　that　flower。〃

To　this　missive　the　romantic　Tartarin　would　have　much　liked　to　join　an　emblematic　bouquet　of　flowers　in　the　Eastern　fashion；　but　Prince　Gregory　thought　it　better　to　purchase　some　pipes　at　the　brother's；　which　could　not　fail　to　soften　his　wild　temper；　and　would　certainly　please　the　lady　a　very　great　deal；　as　she　was　much　of　a　smoker。

〃Let's　be　off　at　once　to　buy　them！〃　said　Tartarin；　full　of　ardour。

〃No；　no！　Let　me　go　alone。　　I　can　get　them　cheaper。〃

〃Eh；　what？　　Would　you　save　me　the　trouble？　　O　prince；　prince；　you　do　me　proud！〃

Quite　abashed；　the　good…hearted　fellow　offered　his　purse　to　the　obliging　Montenegrin；　urging　him　to　overlook　nothing　by　which　the　lady　would　be　gratified。

Unfortunately　the　suit；　albeit　capitally　commenced；　did　not　progress　as　rapidly　as　might　have　been　anticipated。　　It　　appeared　that　the　Moorish　beauty　was　very　deeply　affected　by　Tartarin's　eloquence；　and；　for　that　matter；　three…parts　won　beforehand；　so　that　she　wished　nothing　better　than　to　receive　him；　but　that　brother　of　hers　had　qualms；　and　to　lull　them　it　was　necessary　to　buy　pipes　by　the　dozens；　nay；　the　gross　　well；　we　had　best　say　by　the　shipload　at　once。

〃What　the　plague　can　Baya　do　with　all　these　pipes？〃　poor　Tartarin　wanted　to　know　more　than　once；　but　he　paid　the　bills　all　the　same；　and　without　niggardliness。

At　length；　after　having　purchased　a　mountainous　stack　of　pipes　and　poured　forth　lakes　of　Oriental　poesy；　an　interview　was　arranged。　I　have　no　need　to　tell　you　with　what　throbbings　of　the　heart　the　Tarasconian　prepared　himself；　with　what　carefulness　he　trimmed；　brilliantined；　and　perfumed　his　rough　cap…popper's　beard；　and　how　he　did　not　forget　　for　everything　must　he　thought　of　　to　slip　a　spiky　life…preserver　and　two　or　three　six…shooters　into　his　pockets。

The　ever…obliging　prince　was　coming　to　this　first　meeting　in　the　office　of　interpreter。

The　lady　dwelt　in　the　upper　part　of　the　town。　　Before　her　doorway　a　boy　Moor　of　fourteen　or　less　was　smoking　cigarettes；　this　was　the　brother　in　question；　the　celebrated　Ali。　　On　seeing　the　pair　of　visitors　arrive；　he　gave　a　double　knock　on　the　postern　gate　and　delicately　glided　away。

The　door　opened。　　A　negress　appeared；　who　conducted　the　gentlemen；　without　uttering　a　word；　across　the　narrow　inner　courtyard　into　a　small　cool　room；　where　the　lady　awaited　them；　reclining　on　a　low　ottoman。　At　first　glance　she　appeared　smaller　and　stouter　than　the　Moorish　damsel　met　in　the　omnibus　by　the　Tarasconian。　　In　fact；　was　it　really　the　same？　　But　the　doubt　merely　flashed　through　Tartarin's　brain　like　a　stroke　of　lightning。

The　dame　was　so　pretty　thus；　with　her　feet　bare；　and　plump　fingers；　fine　and　pink；　loaded　with　rings。　　Under　her　bodice　of　gilded　cloth　and　the　folds　of　her　flower…patterned　dress　was　suggested　a　lovable　creature；　rather　blessed　materially；　rounded　everywhere；　and　nice　enough　to　eat。　The　amber　mouthpiece　of　a　narghileh　smoked　at　her　lips；　and　enveloped　her　wholly　in　a　halo　of　light…coloured　smoke。

On　entering；　the　Tarasconian　laid　a　hand　on　his　heart　and　bowed　as　Moorlike　as　possible；　whilst　rolling　his　large　impassioned　eyes。

Baya　gazed　on　him　for　a　moment　without　making　any　answer；　but　then；　dropping　her　pipe…stem；　she　threw　her　head　back；　hid　it　in　her　hands；　and　they　could　only　see　her　white　neck　rippling　with　a　wild　laugh　like　a　bag　full　of　pearls。



XI。　Sidi　Tart'ri　Ben　Tart'ri。


SHOULD　you　ever　drop　into　the　coffee…houses　of　the　Algerian　upper　town　after　dark；　even　at　this　day；　you　would　still　hear　the　natives　chatting　among　themselves；　with　many　a　wink　and　slight　laugh；　of　one　Sidi　Tart'ri　Ben　Tart'ri；　a　rich　and　good…humoured　European；　who　dwelt；　a　few　years　back；　in　that　neighbourhood；　with　a　buxom　witch　of　local　origin；　named　Baya。

This　Sidi　Tart'ri；　who　has　left　such　a　merry　memory　around　the　Kasbah；　is　no　other　than　our　Tartarin；　as　will　be　guessed。

How　could　you　expect　things　otherwise？　In　the　lives　of　heroes；　of　saints；　too；　it　happens　the　same　way　　there　are　moments　of　blindness；　perturbation；　and　weakness。　　The　illustrious　Tarasconian　was　no　more　exempt　from　this　than　another；　and　that　is　the　reason　during　two　months　that；　oblivious　of　fame　and　lions；　he　revelled　in　Oriental　amorousness；　and　dozed；　like　Hannibal　at　Capua；　in　the　delights　of　Algiers　the　white。

The　good　fellow　took　a　pretty　little　house　in　the　native　style　in　the　heart　of　the　Arab　town；　with　inner　courtyard；　banana…trees；　cool　verandahs；　and　fountains。　　He　dwelt；　afar　from　noise；　in　company　with　the　Moorish　charmer；　a　thorough　woman　to　the　manner　born；　who　pulled　at　her　hubble…bubble　all　day　when　she　was　not　eating。

Stretched　out　on　a　divan　in　front　of　him；　Baya　would　drone　him　monotonous　tunes　with　a　guitar　in　her　fist；　or　else；　to　distract　her　lord　and　master；　favour　him　with　the　Bee　Dance；　holding　a　hand…　glass　up；　in　which　she　reflected　her　white　teeth　and　the　faces　she　made。

As　the　Esmeralda　did　not　know　a　word　of　French；　and　Tartarin　none　in　Arabic；　the　conversation　died　away　sometimes；　and　the　Tarasconian　had　plenty　of　leisure　to　do　penance　for　the　gush　of　language　of　which　he　had　been　guilty　in　the　shop　of　Bezuquet　the　chemist　or　that　of　Costecalde　the　gunmaker。

But　this　penance　was　not　devoid　of　charm；　for　he　felt　a　kind　of　enjoyable　sullenness　in　dawdling　away　the　whole　day　without　speaking；　and　in　listening　to　the　gurgling　of　the　hookah；　the　strumming　of　the　guitar；　and　the　faint　splashing　of　the　fountain　on　the　mosaic　pavement　of　the　yard。

The　pipe；　the　bath；　and　caresses　filled　his　entire　life。　　They　seldom　went　out　of　doors。　Sometimes　with　his　lady…love　upon　a　pillion；　Sidi　Tart'ri　would　ride　upon　a　sturdy　mule　to　eat　pomegranates　in　a　little　garden　he　had　purchased　in　the　suburbs。　　But　never；　without　exception；　did　he　go　down　into　the　European　quarter。　　This　kind　of　Algiers　appeared　to　him　as　ugly　and　unbearable　as　a　barracks　at　home；　with　its　Zouaves　in　revelry；　its　music…halls　crammed　with　officers；　and　its　everlasting　clank　of　metal　sabre…sheaths　under　the　arcades。

The　sum　total　is；　that　our　Tarasconian　was　very　happy。

Sancho…Tartarin　particularly；　being　very　sweet　upon　Turkish　pastry；　declared　that　one　could　not　be　more　satisfied　than　by　this　new　existence。　　Quixote…Tartarin　had　some　twinges　at　whiles　on　thinking　of　Tarascon　and　the　promises　of　lion…skins　；　but　this　remorse　did　not　last；　and　to　drive　away　such　dampening　ideas　there　sufficed　one　glance　from　Baya；　or　a　spoonful　of　those　diabolical　dizzying　and　odoriferous　sweetmeats　like　Circe's　brews。

In　the　evening　Gregory　came　to　discourse　a　little　about　a　free　Black　Mountain。　　Of　indefatigable　obligingness；　this　amiable　nobleman　filled　the　functions　of　an　interpreter　in　the　household；　or　those　of　a　steward　at　a　pinch；　and　all　for　nothing　　for　the　sheer　pleasure　of　it。　Apart　from　him；　Tartarin　received　none　but　〃Turks。〃　　All　those　fierce…headed　pirates　who　had　given　him　such　frights　from　the　backs　of　their　black　stalls　turned　out；　when　once　he　made　their　acquaintance；　to　be　good　inoffensive　tradesmen；　embroiderers；　dealers　in　spice；　pipe…mouthpiece　turners　　well…bred　fellows；　humble；　clever；　close；　and　first…class　hands　at　homely　card　games。　Four　or　five　times　a　week　these　gentry　would　come　and　spend　the　evening　at　Sidi　Tart'ri's；　winning　his　small　change；　eating　his　cakes　and　dainties；　and　delicately　retiring　on　the　stroke　of　ten　with　thanks　to　the　Prophet。

Left　alone；　Sidi　Tart'ri　and　his　faithful　spouse　by　the　broomstick　wedding　would　finish　the　evening　on　their　terrace；　a　broad　white　roof　which　overlooked　the　city。

All　around　them　a　thousand　of　other　such　white　flats；　placid　beneath　the　moonshine；　were　descending　like　steps　to　the　sea。　　The　breeze　carried　up　tinkling　of　guitars。

Suddenly；　like　a　shower　of　firework　stars；　a　full；　clear　melody　would　be　softly　sprinkled　out　from　the　sky；　and　on　the　minaret　of　the　neighbouring　mosque　a　handsome　muezzin　would　appear；　his　blanched　form　outlined　on　the　deep　blue　of　the　night；　as　he　chanted　the　glory　of　Allah　with　a　marvellous　voice；　which　filled　the　horizon。

Thereupon　Baya　would　let　go　her　guitar；　and　with　her　large　eyes　turned　towards　the　crier；　seem　to　imbibe　the　prayer　deliciously。　As　long　as　the　chant　endured　she　would　remain　thrilled　there　in　ecstasy；　like　an　Oriental　saint。　　The　deeply　impressed　Tartarin　would　watch　her　pray；　and　conclude　that　it　must　be　a　splendid　and　powerful　creed　that　could　cause　such　frenzies　of　faith。

Tarascon；　veil　thy　face！　here　is　a　son　of　thine　on　the　point　of　becoming　a　renegade！



XII。　The　Latest　Intelligence　from　Tarascon。


PARTING　from　his　little　country　seat；　Sidi　Tart'ri　was　returning　alone　on　his　mule　on　a　fine　afternoon；　when　the　sky　was　blue　and　the　zephyrs　warm。　　His　legs　were　kept　wide　apart　by　ample　saddle…　bags　of　esparto　cloth；　swelled　out　with　cedrats　and　water…melons。　Lulled　by　the　ring　of　his　large　stirrups；　and　rocking　his　body　to　the　swing　and　swaying　of　the　beast；　the　good　fellow　was　thus　traversing　an　adorable　country；　with　his　hands　folded　on　his　paunch；　three…quarters　gone；　through　heat；　in　a　comfortable　doze。　All　at　once；　on　entering　the　town；　a　deafening　appeal　aroused　him。

〃Ahoy！　　What　a　monster　Fate　is！　　Anybody　'd　take　this　for　Monsieur　Tartarin。〃

On　this　name；　and　at　the　jolly　southern　accent；　the　Tarasconian　lifted　his　head；　and　perceived；　a　couple　of　steps　'away；　the　honest　tanned　visage　of　Captain　Barbassou；　master　of　the　Zouave；　who　was　taking　his　absinthe　at　the　door　of　a　little　coffee…house。

〃Hey！　Lord　love　you；　Barbassou！〃　said　Tartarin；　pulling　up　his　mule。

Instead　of　continuing　the　dialogue；　Barbassou　stared　at　him　for