French and Oriental Love in a Harem

"Thank you," I said; "now you may leave me."

He obeyed, saluted me without a word, and went out.

As soon as I found myself alone, not intending to restrain my feelings

any more, I began to march about the drawing-room like a madman, and

gave free vent to the outburst of a joy which overwhelmed me. I picked

up from the carpet a ribbon dropped there by Kondjé-Gul, I pressed it to

my lips with avidity; next some scattered flowers, with which Hadidjé

and Zouhra had played.

Louis, I hope you do not expect me to analyse for your benefit all the

extraordinary sensations which I experienced at that moment. The events

which befel me verged upon the supernatural--the supernatural cannot be

described--and I know not any legend, romance, or novel, relating to

this world, which has ever treated such an astounding situation as that

of which I was the hero. Those severe middle-class parents who give

their daughters, for New Year's presents, M. Galland's "Arabian Nights,"

with illustrations of the amorous adventures of the Caliph of Bagdad,

would find such a romance as mine quite too "strong," simply because the

scene is not laid in Persia, or at Samarcand. Nevertheless, my story is

identical in character, and the most modest young lady might read it

without a frown, if only my name were Hassan instead of André.

Would you like to know everything that can agitate the mind of a mortal

in such a position as mine? Listen, then.

When I had succeeded in reducing to some extent my exaltation of spirit,

when I had at last persuaded myself of the reality of this splendid

fairyland, I sat down with my elbows on the window-sill--I felt the need

of a little fresh air. It was just striking midnight. What were they

doing? Were they thinking of me, I wondered, as much as I was thinking

of them? I began to examine the four keys which Mohammed had left me.

Each key had a tiny label, with a letter and a name on it--Nazli,

Zouhra, Hadidjé, or Kondjé-Gul. My eyes were still filled with their

beauty. Although far from artless, I felt embarrassed in spite of

myself, I might almost say shy. After the fascinations of this evening,

I knew that I was in love; I loved with a strange passion suddenly

developed; I loved to overflowing these beautiful beings, without being

able to separate one from another. So completely were they mingled in my

fancy, they might have possessed but one soul between them. By reason of

my certitude of equal possession, Kondjé-Gul, Hadidjé, Nazli, and Zouhra

constituted in my imagination a single existence, exhaling its

unrivalled perfume of youth, beauty, and love.