”Fi idak! (That is certainly true!) They lend money to Moslems and collect the debts in the governor’s court! It is forbidden by the Koran to lend money at usury.”
“And you figure that the moment is therefore auspicious for a massacre.”
”Haida haik (Quite true). It is going to take place.”
“You know there will be punishment afterward.”
“Perhaps that is written.”
“But as you don’t propose to murder any Jews yourself, or at any rate don’t intend to be seen murdering them, and have plenty of friendly witnesses in any case, you yourself expect to get off scot-free with lots of loot. Isn’t that so?”
“I shall prove an alibi.”
“I know you will! I’m going to help you!”
”Mashallah! What does this talk mean?”
“You have a son, by name Mahommed ben Hamza.”
“Truly. My youngest. He will be here soon.”
“When I came here to act as governor a year ago, he was in the jail under sentence of death.”
“Truly. But the charge was false. The witnesses had lied.”
“Do you remember who set him free?”
Ali Baba did not answer, but the expression of his eyes changed and by just the fraction of an inch he hung his head. He looked even better that way —more patriarchal than ever, blending savagery and humility.
“Do you remember the talk you and I had at the time I set him free? I knew who had done the murder he was to have been hanged for, didn’t I?”
“It was no murder,” the old man answered. “That man’s father slew my father. It was justice.”
“Nevertheless, you committed legal murder and I might have hanged you. What says the Koran? Does it bid return evil for good? Does it say in the Koran that a captain of thieves has no honor and need not keep promises? What are you and I—friends or enemies?”
“Jimgrim, you know I am your friend! All my sons and grandsons are your friends. You know it!”
“That is what I have been told, but I have yet to see it proved.”
“What can I do? I am an old man. Can I stay a massacre by wagging a gray beard in the suk?“
“That remains to be seen. I will tell you what I have done. I have a true friend in Jerusalem—a friend unto death. Also, those in authority in Jerusalem listen when I speak; to them I gave certain writings, sealed before I came away this morning. It was known how serious the situation is in this place; so it was agreed before I came away that if these boys de Crespigny and Jones should be killed—and of course I shall die with them in that case—”
“God forbid, Jimgrim!”
“Then that seal shall be broken, and because of what shall be found written the first to be hanged when reprisals begin shall be the sixteen sons and grandsons of Ali Baba ben Hamza. But the seal shall not be broken otherwise.”
“Jimgrim, shall the sons be slain for the father’s fault? That is not justice!”
“But concerning Ali Baba ben Hamza himself I made a different agreement. I said to that friend of mine in Jerusalem, who is a friend unto death: ‘Ali Baba ben Hamza of El-Kalil,’ said I, ‘has said he is my friend, but hitherto has not yet proved it. At this time my life will be in Ali Baba’s hands. If he keeps faith, well; but if not, attend thou to it, making sure meanwhile that the bayonet is sharp.’”
“A bayonet? That is no thing to mention between friends, Jimgrim!”
“No, but between enemies a final argument! I claim you as a friend. But if you are not willing, I shall know what to do next. It is doubtless written whether I am to die or not at this time; but the consequence of that is also written and the fruits of the tree of friendship, Ali Baba, are always sweeter than the excrements of enmity!”
“What can I do? I am old. And the fire is laid!”
“Can the old not keep their promises? Are the old ungrateful? Do the old, because they are old, forget their friends?”
“Nay, Jimgrim, on the contrary! But you must not be too hard with me.”
The only thing about Grim that suggested militarism was his uniform. Shut your eyes to that and he was a business man driving a difficult bargain through to completion.
His iron eyes were steady, but not overbearing; they looked capable of dreaming as well as of discriminating, and faithful beyond measure.
His voice too, had a quality of sympathy, so that when he was most threatening he seemed most persuasive; and along with the good-tempered smile there was an ability that neither words nor attitude expressed, but that was unmistakable—to understand and allow for the other fellow’s point of view.
“Is it hard, O captain of thieves, to keep faith?” he asked.
“To keep faith?” Ali Baba paused and stroked his beard. “That is all that God asks of any man. But it is often very difficult.”
“I shall keep faith with you,” Grim answered, smiling genially. “You owe me two lives—yours and your youngest son’s.”
”Taib! I will pay two lives. Nay, I will do better; I will repay fifteen for the two! Seventeen for two! Thy life, Jimgrim, and the two youngsters who have tried to rule here and these—even this Jew— the doctor at the mission hospital and the woman who helps him and your ten policemen; go all of you, and on my head be it if harm befalls you on the way! Go safely to Jerusalem. I give you leave to go!”
Grim laughed and leaned back to light a cigarette. It did not seem to me that he had won his case, but he acted as if there were almost nothing more to talk about, and Ali Baba’s old brown eyes beamed with a new light.
“You have spoken, Ali Baba. Seventeen for two, and we’ll call the account balanced. But the seventeen are yourself and your sixteen sons. And the account—that shall be the account I shall give of El-Kalil when I return to Jerusalem. My life and the life of all these is on the heads of Ali Baba and his sixteen sons and grandsons!”
“Allah!”
“Certainly,” said Grim. “Let Allah witness!”
Then Ali Baba did a thing that hardly fitted into the modern frame. He stood up and I thought he was going to denounce us all, for he was trembling and his lips quivered.
His eyes were on Grim’s, as steady as the Westerner’s now, and for the space of half a minute he stood erect, seeming to grow in height as the dignity of olden days descended on him. Then, to my astonishment and Cohen’s, he took Grim’s hand and bowed and kissed it.
“It is written,” he said. “Life for life. Friendship in return for friendship. In this affair thy way and mine are one, Jimgrim.”
Grim nodded.
“I knew you’d do the right thing, Ali Baba. Now sit down again and let’s discuss the details. When your sons and grandsons come what do you propose to say to them?”
“Let your heart speak to them with my tongue. Surely they will listen.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Nay, I am in your hands. We seventeen are thieves, but we be honest men. With our lives and all that we have we are your servants until this affair is over.”
“There hasn’t got to be any affair,” said Grim.
“Allah!