French and Oriental Love in a Harem

I must add, however, that while rising to purer conceptions of truth, my

houris retained too much of their native instincts not to get their

heads turned somewhat by the novelty of their situation. Having equal

rights, they claimed the same rank in my esteem. From this it resulted

that Hadidjé, Nazli, and Zouhra at last took umbrage at the success of

Kondjé-Gul, who was wrong in trying to outstrip them. "Kondjé-Gul," they

proclaimed, "wishes to act the savante. Kondjé-Gul gives herself the

airs of a legitimate Sultana." I must confess that the said little

coquette was only too careful to impress them with her successes, of

which she was rather proud. One evening she sat down to the piano, and,

with a careless air, played part of a waltz, which she had learnt on the

sly in order to surprise me. You may guess what the effect was. This

triumph put the finishing touch to their provocation, and the evening

was spent in sulky murmurs.

Finally, one day when I arrived at the harem I found Kondjé-Gul shut up

in her own room, bathed in tears. The storm which had been impending so

long had burst over her proud head--Hadidjé, Zouhra, and Nazli had

beaten her.

Once more I appeased their discords, by recourse to a new declaration of

principles. The reconciliation was celebrated by a general display of

cordiality; but a faction had been formed within the ranks. At the very

time that I least expected it, Nazli, Hadidjé, and Zouhra returned to

their idea of a secret visit to the château. This project, which so far

had only been carried on by detached skirmishes, was still cherished by

them, and was now pursued by a compact body of troops, combining their

siege-manoeuvres with a rare concentration of boldness and courage.

Their weapons were tender caresses and those innumerable cajoleries of

women, which nearly always compel us to surrender in desperation to

their most unreasonable whims. My oriental ménage was still walking on

a flowery path, but a snare was hidden under the dead leaves.... A few

weeks later, when I was completely entangled in the subtle meshes of

their cunning, the whole line changed their tactics. They said no more

about Férouzat, but I soon saw exhibitions on every side of frivolous

caprices, sudden fits of sulkiness, unexpected refusals, and so forth.

My odalisques had become civilised.

I was too good a tactician to allow myself to be outflanked by this

artful little game, the concerted object of which I pretended not to

perceive. Whenever they fancied they had obtained a success over me, I

immediately transferred my attentions to Kondjé-Gul, and the attacking

party disbanded, surrendering unconditionally.