THE RAINBOW SIGN
While this bad work had been going forward in the Kasbah a great blessing had fallen on the town.The long-looked for, hoped for, prayed for--the good and blessed rain--had come at last.
In gentle drops like dew it had at first been falling from the rack of dark cloud which had gathered over the heads of the mountains, and now, after half an hour of such moisture, the sky over the town was grey, and the rain was pouring down like a flood.
Oh! the joy of it, the sweetness, the freshness, the beauty, the odour!
The air overhead, which had been dense with dust, was clearing and whitening as if the water washed it.And the ground underfoot, which had reeked of creeping and crawling things, was running like a wholesome river, and bearing back to the lips a taste as of the sea.
And the people of the town, in their surprise and gladness at the falling of the rain, had come out of their houses to meet it.
The streets and the marketplace were full of them.In childish joy they wandered up and down in the drenching flood, without fear or thought of harm, with laughing eyes and gleaming white teeth, holding out their palms to the rain and drinking it.Hailing each other in the voices of boys, jesting and shouting and singing, to and fro they went and came without aim or direction.The Jews trooped out of the Mellah, chattering like jays, and the Moors at the gate salaamed to them.Mule-drivers cried "Balak" in tones that seemed to sing;gunsmiths and saddle-makers sat idle at their doors, greeting every one that passed; solemn Talebs stood in knots, with faces that shone under the closed hoods of their dark jellabs; and the bareheaded Berbers encamped in the market-square capered about like flighty children, grinned like apes, fired their long guns into the air for love of hearing the powder speak, often wept, and sometimes embraced each other, thinking of their homes that were far away.
Now, it was just when the town was alive with this strange scene that the procession which had been ordered by Ben Aboo came out from the Kasbah.At the head of it walked a soldier, staff in hand and gorgeous--notwithstanding the rain--in peaked shasheeah and crimson selham.Behind him were four black police, and on either side of the company were two criers of the street, each carrying a short staff festooned with strings of copper coin, which he rattled in the air for a bell.Between these came the victims of the Basha's order--Naomi first, barefooted, bareheaded, stripped of all but the last garment that hid her nakedness, her head held down, her face hidden, and her eyes closed--and Israel afterwards, mounted on a lean and ragged ass.A further guard of black police walked at the back of all.Thus they came down the steep arcades into the market-square, where the greater body of the townspeople had gathered together.
When the people saw them, they made for them, hastening in crowds from every side of the Feddan, from every adjacent alley, every shop, tent, and booth.And when they saw who the prisoners were they burst into loud exclamations of surprise.
"Ya Allah! Israel the Jew!" cried the Moors.
"God of Jacob, save us! Israel ben Oliel!" cried the people of the Mellah.
"What is it? What has happened? What has befallen them?" they all asked together.
"Balak!" cried the soldier in front, swinging his staff before him to force a passage through the thronging multitude."Attention!
By your leave! Away! Out of the way!"
And as they walked the criers chanted, "So shall it be done to every man who is an enemy of the Kaid, and to every woman who is a play-actor and a cheat."When the people had recovered from their consternation they began to look black into each other's face, to mutter oaths between their teeth, and to say in voices of no pity or rush, "He deserved it!""Ya Allah, but he's well served!" "Holy Saints, we knew what it would come to!" "Look at him now!" "There he is at last!""Brave end to all his great doings!" "Curse him! Curse him!"And over the muttered oaths and pitiless curses, the yelping and barking of the cruel voices of the crowd, as the procession moved along, came still the cry of the crier, "So shall it be done to every man who is an enemy of the Kaid, and to every woman who is a play-actor and a cheat."Then the mood of the multitude changed.The people began to titter, and after that to laugh openly.They wagged their heads at Israel;they derided him; they made merry over his sorry plight.Where he was now he seemed to be not so much a fallen tyrant as a silly sham and an imposture.Look at him! Look at his bony and ragged ass!
Ya Allah! To think that they had ever been afraid of him!
As the procession crossed the market-place, a woman who was enveloped in a blanket spat at Israel as he passed.Then it was come to the door of the Mosque, an old man, a beggar, hobbled through the crowd and struck Israel with the back of his hand across the face.
The woman had lost her husband and the man his son by death sentences of Ben Aboo.Israel had succoured both when he went about on his secret excursions after nightfall in the disguise of a Moor.
"Balak! Balak!" cried the soldier in front, and still the chant of the crier rang out over all other noises.
At every step the throng increased.The strong and lusty bore down the weak in the struggle to get near to the procession.
