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Contents

Guide to VideoNotes iii

Guide to Application Topics v

Preface xi

Acknowledgments xv

Chapter 1 An Introduction to Computing

and Problem Solving 1
1.1 An Introduction to Computing and Python 2
1.2 Program Development Cycle 4
1.3 Programming Tools 6
1.4 An Introduction to Python 13

Chapter 2 Core Objects, Variables, Input,

and Output 23
2.1 Numbers 24
2.2 Strings 35
2.3 Output 49
2.4 Lists, Tuples, and Files–An Introduction 58

Key Terms and Concepts 71

Programming Projects 74

Chapter 3 Structures That Control Flow 77

3.1 Relational and Logical Operators 78
3.2 Decision Structures 89
3.3 The while Loop 105
vii
viii ◆ Contents  

3.4 The for Loop 118

Key Terms and Concepts 137

Programming Projects 139

Chapter 4 Functions 143

4.1 Functions, Part 1 144
4.2 Functions, Part 2 164
4.3 Program Design 182

Key Terms and Concepts 186

Programming Projects 188

Chapter 5 Processing Data 191

5.1 Processing Data, Part 1 192
5.2 Processing Data, Part 2 207
5.3 Dictionaries 221

Key Terms and Concepts 235

Programming Projects 238

Chapter 6 Miscellaneous Topics 243

6.1 Exception Handling 244
6.2 Selecting Random Values 251
6.3 Turtle Graphics 257
6.4 Recursion 269

Key Terms and Concepts 277

Programming Projects 278

   Contents ◆ ix

Chapter 7 Object-Oriented Programming 281

7.1 Classes and Objects 282
7.2 Inheritance 295

Key Terms and Concepts 307

Programming Projects 308

Chapter 8 Graphical User Interface 311

8.1 Widgets 312
8.2 The Grid Geometry Manager 325
8.3 Writing GUI Programs 334

Key Terms and Concepts 343

Programming Projects 345

Appendices
Appendix A ASCII Values 349
Appendix B Reserved Words 351
Appendix C Installing Python and IDLE 353

Answers 355

Index 405
This page intentionally left blank
Preface

S ince its introduction in the 1990s, Python has become one of the most widely used
programming languages in the software industry. Also, students learning their first
programming language find Python the ideal tool to understand the development of
computer programs.
My objectives when writing this text were as follows:
1. To develop focused chapters. Rather than covering many topics superficially,
I concentrate on important subjects and cover them thoroughly.
2. To use examples and exercises with which students can relate, appreciate, and feel
comfortable. I frequently use real data. Examples do not have so many embel-
lishments that students are distracted from the programming techniques
illustrated.
3. To produce compactly written text that students will find both readable and informa-
tive. The main points of each topic are discussed first and then the peripheral
details are presented as comments.
4. To teach good programming practices that are in step with modern programming
methodology. Problem-solving techniques, structured programming, and
object-oriented programming are thoroughly discussed.
5. To provide insights into the major applications of computers.

Unique and Distinguishing Features

Programming Projects. Beginning with Chapter 2, every chapter contains programming
projects. The programming projects reflect the variety of ways that computers are
used. The large number and range of difficulty of the programming projects pro-
vide the flexibility to adapt the course to the interests and abilities of the students.
Some programming projects in later chapters can be assigned as end-of-the-semester
projects.
Exercises for Most Sections. Each section that teaches programming has an exercise
set. The exercises both reinforce the understanding of the key ideas of the section
and challenge the student to explore applications. Most of the exercise sets require
the student to trace programs, find errors, and write programs. The answers to every
odd-numbered exercise in the book, with the exception of Section 6.3 (Turtle Graph-
ics) and Chapter 8 (Graphical User Interface), are given at the end of the text. (The
answers to every other odd-numbered exercise from Section 6.3 are given. The Stu-
dent Solutions Manual contains the answer to every odd-numbered exercise in the
book.) A possible output accompanies nearly every programming exercise and pro-
gramming project.
Practice Problems. Practice Problems are carefully selected exercises located at the end
of a section, just before the exercise set. Complete solutions are given following the
exercise set. The practice problems often focus on points that are potentially confusing

xi
xii ◆ Preface 

or are best appreciated after the student has thought about them. The reader should
seriously attempt the practice problems and study their solutions before moving on
to the exercises.
Comments. Extensions and fine points of new topics are deferred to the “Comments”
portion at the end of each section so that they will not interfere with the flow of the
presentation.
Key Terms and Concepts. In Chapters 2 through 8, the key terms and concepts (along
with examples) are summarized at the end of the chapter.
Guide to Application Topics. This section provides an index of programs that deal
with various topics including Business, Economics, Mathematics, and Sports.
VideoNotes. Twenty-four VideoNotes are available at www.pearsonhighered.com/
schneider. VideoNotes are Pearson’s visual tool designed for teaching key program-
ming concepts and techniques. VideoNote icons are placed in the margin of the text
book to notify the reader when a topic is discussed in a video. Also, a Guide to Video
Notes summarizing the different videos throughout the text is included.
Solution Manuals. The Student Solutions Manual contains the answer to every odd-
numbered exercise (not including programming projects). The Instructor Solutions
Manual contains the answer to every exercise and programming project. Both solu-
tion manuals are in pdf format and can be downloaded from the Publisher’s website.
Source Code and Data Files. The programs for all examples and the data files needed
for the exercises can be downloaded from the Publisher’s website.

How to Access Instructor and Student Resource

Materials
Online Practice and Assessment with MyProgrammingLab™
MyProgrammingLab helps students fully grasp the logic, semantics, and syntax of
programming. Through practice exercises and immediate, personalized feedback,
MyProgrammingLab improves the programming competence of beginning students
who often struggle with the basic concepts and paradigms of popular high-level pro-
gramming languages.
A self-study and homework tool, a MyProgrammingLab course consists of hun-
dreds of small practice problems organized around the structure of this textbook. For
students, the system automatically detects errors in the logic and syntax of their code
submissions and offers targeted hints that enable students to figure out what went
wrong—and why. For instructors, a comprehensive gradebook tracks correct and
incorrect answers and stores the code inputted by students for review.
For a full demonstration, to see feedback from instructors and students, or to
get started using MyProgrammingLab in your course, visit www.myprogramminglab
.com.

Instructor Resources
The following protected instructor resource materials are available on the Publisher’s
website at www.pearsonhighered.com/schneider. For username and password infor-
mation, please contact your local Pearson representative.
   Preface  ◆ xiii

• Test Item File

• PowerPoint Lecture Slides
• Instructor Solutions Manual
• VideoNotes
• Programs for all examples and answers to exercises and programming projects
(Data files needed for the exercises are included in the Programs folder.)

Student Resources
Access to the Premium website and VideoNotes tutorials is located at www
.pearsonhighered.com/schneider. Students must use the access card located in the
front of the book to register and access the online material. If there is no access
card in the front of this textbook, students can purchase access by going to www
.­pearsonhighered.com/schneider and selecting “purchase access to premium con-
tent.” Instructors must register on the site to access the material.
The following content is available through the Premium website:
• VideoNotes
• Student Solutions Manual
• Programs for examples (Data files needed for the exercises are included in the
Programs folder.)
This page intentionally left blank
Acknowledgments

M any talented instructors and programmers provided helpful comments and

constructive suggestions during the writing of this text and I am most grateful
for their contributions. The book benefited greatly from the valuable comments of
the following reviewers:
Daniel Solarek, University of Toledo
David M. Reed, Capital University
Debraj De, Georgia State
Desmond Chun, Chabot College
Mark Coffey, Colorado School of Mines
Randall Alexander, College of Charleston
Vineyak Tanksale, Ball State University
Zhi Wei, New Jersey Institute of Technology
Many people are involved in the successful publication of a book. I wish to thank
the dedicated team at Pearson whose support and diligence made this textbook pos-
sible, especially Carole Snyder, Program Manager for Computer Science, Kelsey
Loanes, Editorial Assistant for Computer Science, and Scott Disanno, Team Lead
Product Management.
I would like to thank Jacob Saina for his assistance with every stage in the writing
of the book. Production Editors Pavithra Jayapaul and Greg Dulles did a ­fantastic
job producing the book and keeping it on schedule. I am grateful to John Russo of
the Wentworth Institute of Technology for producing the VideoNotes, to Dr. Kathy
Liszka of the University of Akron for producing the test bank, and to Dr. Steve
­Armstrong of LeTourneau University for producing the PowerPoint slides that
accompany the book. The competence and graciousness of Shylaja Gattupalli at
Jouve India made for a pleasant production process.
I extend special thanks to my editor Tracy Johnson. Her ideas and enthusiasm
helped immensely with the preparation of the book.
David I. Schneider
dis@alum.mit.edu

xv
This page intentionally left blank
1
An Introduction to
­Computing and Problem
Solving
1.1 An Introduction to Computing and Python 2

1.2 Program Development Cycle 4

◆ Performing a Task on the Computer ◆ Program Planning
1.3 Programming Tools 6
◆ Flowcharts ◆ Pseudocode ◆ Hierarchy Chart ◆ Decision Structure
◆ Direction of Numbered NYC Streets Algorithm ◆ Repetition Structure

◆ Class Average Algorithm

1.4 An Introduction to Python 13

◆ Starting IDLE ◆ A Python Shell Walkthrough
◆ A Python Code Editor Walkthrough ◆ An ­Open-​­a-​­Program Walkthrough

1
2 ◆ Chapter 1 An Introduction to ­Computing and Problem Solving

1.1 An Introduction to Computing and Python

An Introduction to Programming Using Python is about problem solving using computers.
The programming language used is Python, but the principles apply to most modern pro-
gramming languages. Many of the examples and exercises illustrate how computers are
used in the real world. Here are some questions that you may have about computers and
programming.

Question: How do we communicate with the computer?

Answer: Programming languages are used to communicate with the computer. At the low-
est level, there is machine language, which is understood directly by the microprocessor
but is difficult for humans to understand. Python is an example of a ­high-​­level language. It
consists of instructions to which people can relate, such as print, if, and input. Some other
­well-​­known ­high-​­level languages are Java, C++, and Visual Basic.

Question: How do we get computers to perform complicated tasks?

Answer: Tasks are broken down into a sequence of instructions, called a program, that
can be expressed in a programming language. Programs can range in size from two or three
instructions to millions of instructions. The process of executing the instructions is called
running the program.

Question: Why did you decide to use Python as the programming language?
Answer: Many people consider Python to be the best language to teach beginners how to
program. We agree. Also, Python is being used by major software companies. Python is
powerful, easy to write and read, easy to download and install, and it runs under Windows,
Mac, and Linux operating systems.

Question: How did the language Python get its name?

Answer: It is named for the British comedy group Monty Python. Python’s creator, Guido
van Rossum, is a fan of the group.

Question: This book uses the editor IDLE to create programs. How did IDLE get its name?
Answer: Idle stands for Integrated DeveLopment Environment. (Some people think the
name was chosen as a tribute to Eric Idle, a founding member of the Monty Python group.)
The IDLE editor has many features (such as color coding and formatting assistance) that
help the programmer.

Question: Python is referred to as an interpreted language. What is an interpreted language?

Answer: An interpreted language uses a program called an interpreter that translates a ­high-​
­level language one statement at a time into machine language and then runs the program.
The ­interpreter will spot several types of errors and terminate the program when one is
encountered.

Question: What are the meanings of the terms “programmer” and “user”?
Answer: A programmer (also called a developer) is a person who solves problems by writing
programs on a computer. After analyzing the problem and developing a plan for solving it,
the programmer writes and tests the program that instructs the computer how to carry out
the plan. The program might be run many times, either by the programmer or by others.
A user is any person who runs the program. While working through this text, you will
function both as a programmer and as a user.
 1.1   An Introduction to Computing and Python ◆ 3

Question: What is the meaning of the term “code”?

Answer: The Python instructions that the programmer writes are called code. The pro-
cesses of writing a program is often called coding.

Question: Are there certain characteristics that all programs have in common?
Answer: Most programs do three things: take in data, manipulate data, and produce results.
These operations are referred to as input, processing, and output. The input data might be
held in the program, reside on a disk, or be provided by the user in response to requests
made by the computer while the program is running. The processing of the input data
occurs inside the computer and can take from a fraction of a second to many hours. The
output data are displayed on a monitor, printed on a printer, or recorded on a disk. As a
simple example, consider a program that computes sales tax. An item of input data is the
cost of the thing purchased. The processing consists of multiplying the cost by the sales
tax rate. The output data is the resulting product, the amount of sales tax to be paid.

Question: What are the meanings of the terms “hardware” and “software”?
Answer: Hardware refers to the physical components of the computer, including all periph-
erals, the central processing unit (CPU), disk drives, and all mechanical and electrical
devices. Programs are referred to as software.

Question: How are problems solved with a program?

Answer: Problems are solved by carefully reading them to determine what data are given
and what outputs are requested. Then a ­step-​­by-​­step procedure is devised to process the
given data and produce the requested output.

Question: Many programming languages, including Python, use a ­zero-​­based numbering system.
What is a ­zero-​­based numbering system?
Answer: In a ­zero-​­based numbering system, numbering begins with zero instead of one. For
example, in the word “code”, “c” would be the zeroth letter, “o” would be the first letter,
and so on.

Question: Are there any prerequisites to learning Python?

Answer: You should be familiar with how folders (also called directories) and files are managed
on your computer. Files reside on storage devices such as hard disks, USB flash drives, CDs,
and DVDs. Traditionally, the primary storage devices for personal computers were hard disks
and floppy disks. Therefore, the word disk is frequently used to refer to any storage device.

Question: What is an example of a program developed in this textbook?

Answer: Figure 1.1 shows a possible output of a program from Chapter 3. When it is first
run, the statement “Enter a first name:” appears. After the user types in a first name and

Enter a first name: James

James Madison
James Monroe
James Polk
James Buchanan
James Garfield
James Carter

Figure 1.1 A possible output for a program in Chapter 3.

4 ◆ Chapter 1 An Introduction to ­Computing and Problem Solving

presses the Enter (or return) key, the names of the presidents who have that first name are
displayed.

Question: How does the programmer create the aforementioned program?

Answer: For this program, the programmer writes about 10 lines of code that search a text
file named USpres.txt, and extracts the requested names.

Question: What conventions are used to show keystrokes?

Answer: The combination key1+key2 means “hold down key1 and then press key2”. The
combination Ctrl+C places selected material into the Clipboard. The combination key1/
key2 means “press and release key1, and then press key2”. The combination Alt/F opens
the File menu on a menu bar.

Question: How can the programs for the examples in this textbook be obtained?
Answer: See the preface for information on how to download the programs from the
­Pearson website.

Question: Where will new programs be saved?

Answer: Before writing your first program, you should create a special folder to hold your
programs.

1.2 Program Development Cycle

We learned in Section 1.1 that hardware refers to the machinery in a computer system (such
as the monitor, keyboard, and CPU) and software refers to a collection of instructions,
called a program, that directs the hardware. Programs are written to solve problems or
perform tasks on a computer. Programmers translate the solutions or tasks into a language
the computer can understand. As we write programs, we must keep in mind that the com-
puter will do only what we instruct it to do. Because of this, we must be very careful and
thorough when writing our instructions.

■■ Performing a Task on the Computer

The first step in writing instructions to carry out a task is to determine what the output
should ­be—​­that is, exactly what the task should produce. The second step is to identify the
data, or input, necessary to obtain the output. The last step is to determine how to process
the input to obtain the desired o ­ utput—​­that is, to determine what formulas or ways of
doing things should be used to obtain the output.
This ­problem-​­solving approach is the same as that used to solve word problems in an
algebra class. For example, consider the following algebra problem:
How fast is a car moving if it travels 50 miles in 2 hours?
The first step is to determine the type of answer requested. The answer should be a num-
ber giving the speed in miles per hour (the output). The information needed to obtain the
answer is the distance and time the car has traveled (the input). The formula
speed = distance/time

is used to process the distance traveled and the time elapsed in order to determine the
speed. That is,
 1.2   Program Development Cycle ◆ 5

speed = 50 miles/2 hours

= 25 miles per hour

A graphical representation of this ­problem-​­solving process is shown in Fig. 1.2.

+PRWV 2TQEGUUKPI 1WVRWV

Figure 1.2 The ­problem-​­solving process.

We determine what we want as output, get the needed input, and process the input to
produce the desired output.
In the chapters that follow, we discuss how to write programs to carry out the preceding
operations. But first we look at the general process of writing programs.

■■ Program Planning
A baking recipe provides a good example of a plan. The ingredients and the amounts are
determined by what is to be baked. That is, the output determines the input and the process-
ing. The recipe, or plan, reduces the number of mistakes you might make if you tried to
bake with no plan at all. Although it’s difficult to imagine an architect building a bridge or
a factory without a detailed plan, many programmers (particularly students in their first
programming course) try to write programs without first making a careful plan. The more
complicated the problem, the more complex the plan must be. You will spend much less
time working on a program if you devise a carefully thought out ­step-​­by-​­step plan and test
it before actually writing the program.
Many programmers plan their programs using a sequence of steps, referred to as the
Software Development Life Cycle. The following s­ tep-​­by-​­step process will enable you to use
your time efficiently and help you design e­ rror-​­free programs that produce the desired output.

1. Analyze: Define the problem.

Be sure you understand what the program should ­do—​­that is, what the output should
be. Have a clear idea of what data (or input) are given and the relationship between the
input and the desired output.
2. Design: Plan the solution to the problem.
Find a logical sequence of precise steps that solve the problem. Such a sequence of
steps is called an algorithm. Every detail, including obvious steps, should appear in
the algorithm. In the next section, we discuss three popular methods used to develop
the logic plan: flowcharts, pseudocode, and hierarchy charts. These tools help the pro-
grammer break a problem into a sequence of small tasks the computer can perform to
solve the problem. Planning also involves using representative data to test the logic of
the algorithm by hand to ensure that it is correct.
3. Code: Translate the algorithm into a programming language.
Coding is the technical word for writing the program. During this stage, the program is
written in Python and entered into the computer. The programmer uses the algorithm
devised in Step 2 along with a knowledge of Python.
4. Test and correct: Locate and remove any errors in the program.
Testing is the process of finding errors in a program. (An error in a program is called
a bug and testing and correcting is often referred to as debugging.) As the program is
6 ◆ Chapter 1 An Introduction to ­Computing and Problem Solving

typed, Python points out certain kinds of program errors. Other kinds of errors are
detected by Python when the program is executed—however, many errors due to typ-
ing mistakes, flaws in the algorithm, or incorrect use of the Python language rules, can
be uncovered and corrected only by careful detective work. An example of such an
error would be using addition when multiplication was the proper operation.
5. Complete the documentation: Organize all the material that describes the program.
Documentation is intended to allow another person, or the programmer at a later
date, to understand the program. Internal documentation (comments) consists of
statements in the program that are not executed, but point out the purposes of vari-
ous parts of the program. Documentation might also consist of a detailed descrip-
tion of what the program does and how to use it (for instance, what type of input is
expected). For commercial programs, documentation includes an instruction manual
and ­on-​­line help. Other types of documentation are the flowchart, pseudocode, and
hierarchy chart that were used to construct the program. Although documentation
is listed as the last step in the program development cycle, it should take place as the
program is being coded.

1.3 Programming Tools

This section discusses some specific algorithms and describes three tools used to convert
algorithms into computer programs: flowcharts, pseudocode, and hierarchy charts.
You use algorithms every day to make decisions and perform tasks. For instance, when-
ever you mail a letter, you must decide how much postage to put on the envelope. One rule
of thumb is to use one stamp for every five sheets of paper or fraction thereof. Suppose a
friend asks you to determine the number of stamps to place on an envelope. The following
algorithm will accomplish the task.

1. Request the number of sheets of paper; call it Sheets. (input)

2. Divide Sheets by 5. (processing)
3. If necessary, round the quotient up to a whole number; call it Stamps. (processing)
4. Reply with the number Stamps. (output)

The preceding algorithm takes the number of sheets (Sheets) as input, processes the
data, and produces the number of stamps needed (Stamps) as output. We can test the algo-
rithm for a letter with 16 sheets of paper.

1. Request the number of sheets of paper; Sheets = 16.

2. Dividing 5 into 16 gives 3.2.
3. Rounding 3.2 up to 4 gives Stamps = 4.
4. Reply with the answer, 4 stamps.

This ­problem-​­solving example can be illustrated by Fig. 1.3.

+PRWV 2TQEGUUKPI 1WVRWV

 HQTOWNCU 

Figure 1.3 The ­problem-​­solving process for the stamp problem.

 1.3  Programming Tools ◆ 7

Of the program design tools available, three popular ones are the following:
Flowcharts: Graphically depict the logical steps to carry out a task and show how the
steps relate to each other.
Pseudocode: Uses ­English-​­like phrases with some Python terms to outline the task.
Hierarchy charts: Show how the different parts of a program relate to each other.

■■ Flowcharts
A flowchart consists of special geometric symbols connected by arrows. Within each sym-
bol is a phrase presenting the activity at that step. The shape of the symbol indicates the type
of operation that is to occur. For instance, the parallelogram denotes input or output. The
arrows connecting the symbols, called flowlines, show the progression in which the steps
take place. Flowcharts should “flow” from the top of the page to the bottom. Although the
symbols used in flowcharts are standardized, no standards exist for the amount of detail
required within each symbol.

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QRGTCVKQPU6JGKPUVTWEVKQPUCTGNKUVGF
KPUKFGVJGTGEVCPING

&GEKUKQP 7UGFHQTCP[NQIKEQTEQORCTKUQPQRGTCVKQPU
7PNKMGVJGKPRWVQWVRWVCPFRTQEGUUKPI
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ƃQYNKPGVJGFGEKUKQPU[ODQNJCUQPGGPVT[
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The table of the flowchart symbols has been adopted by the American National Stand-
ards Institute (ANSI). Figure 1.4 shows the flowchart for the ­postage-​­stamp problem.
The main advantage of using a flowchart to plan a task is that it provides a graphical
representation of the task, thereby making the logic easier to follow. We can clearly see
every step and how each is connected to the next. The major disadvantage is that when a
program is very large, the flowcharts may continue for many pages, making them difficult
to follow and modify.

■■ Pseudocode
Pseudocode is an abbreviated plain English version of actual computer code (hence, pseu-
docode). The geometric symbols used in flowcharts are replaced by E ­ nglish-​­like statements
that outline the process. As a result, pseudocode looks more like computer code than does
8 ◆ Chapter 1 An Introduction to ­Computing and Problem Solving

5VCTV

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Figure 1.4 Flowchart for the p

­ ostage-​­stamp problem.

a flowchart. Pseudocode allows the programmer to focus on the steps required to solve a
problem rather than on how to use the computer language. The programmer can describe
the algorithm in P
­ ython-​­like form without being restricted by the rules of Python. When
the pseudocode is completed, it can be easily translated into the Python language.
The pseudocode for the ­postage-​­stamp problem is shown in Fig. 1.5.

Program: Determine the proper number of stamps for a letter.

Obtain number of sheets (Sheets) (input)
Set the number of stamps to Sheets / 5 (processing)
Round the number of stamps up to a whole number (processing)
Display the number of stamps (output)
Figure 1.5 Pseudocode for the ­postage-​­stamp problem.

Pseudocode has several advantages. It is compact and probably will not extend for many
pages as flowcharts commonly do. Also, the pseudocode looks like the code to be written
and so is preferred by many programmers.

■■ Hierarchy Chart
The last programming tool we’ll discuss is the hierarchy chart, which shows the overall
program structure. Hierarchy charts are also called structure charts, HIPO (Hierarchy plus
­Input-​­Process-​­Output) charts, ­top-​­down charts, or VTOC (Visual Table of Contents) charts.
All these names refer to planning diagrams that are similar to a company’s organization chart.
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forget to claim the service due to you. Your slaves, as I have heard,
grow fat and lazy, and though devoted to you—as what soul would
not be?—do not keep your house so scrupulously clean and nicely
ordered as the dwelling-place of such a treasure ought to be. I beg
you to make hard your heart from time to time, to think a little less
for others and more often for yourself. Even your own son should be
brought up to reverence you, as one to whom he owes incalculable
debts of gratitude. He should kiss your hand whenever he
approaches, and bow and ask your blessing when he takes his leave.
It is our custom for small children and, I think, a good one. How is
the little one this morning? Am I not to be allowed to see him for
one moment?”
Barakah clapped her hands and, when a slave appeared, gave order
for Muhammad to be brought. He came in presently, escorted by his
foster-mother, who stood and watched his progress to the dais with
loving smiles. He was in docile mood, and Barakah detained him,
giving the wife of Ghandûr leave to go.
“What fault is there to find in his behaviour?” she inquired in French,
with arch defiance of the Pasha.
“None in the world,” he made reply, with vast politeness, “except
that he has not kissed hands, nor waited your permission to sit down
with us.”
“Absurd!” laughed Barakah.
“Absurd, in verity, like many of our customs. Only, my cherished
daughter, he is one of us and must observe them. If you refuse to
teach him the behaviour which we consider fitting for young
children, I announce with deep regret that we must take him from
you.”
Barakah gasped. She looked for signs of jesting; but the Pasha’s
visage, though urbane, was serious.
“It has been told me,” he continued very gravely, “that this boy,
when angry, kicks and curses his own mother. That is, for us others,
a most dreadful crime, apart from the regard in which I hold you
personally. My grandson must not be brought up to shame our
house; the authority of the family must be exerted to avert
dishonour. In fact, dear madame, if you will not punish him, he must
be given for a while to some one who will do so.”
“But it is unheard of!” cried the mother wildly. “How can you think of
such abominable cruelty? He is my child. My right to him exists in
nature.”
“And is inalienable,” said the Pasha, with a splendid bow. “No one
else can ever bear him, but some one else will have to educate him,
since madame refuses.”
“I am an Englishwoman. I shall complain to my Consul.”
“Believe me, dear madame, he will not listen. Your son is a Turkish
subject; we inhabit Egypt; and in a case of this sort we allow no
interference. The English are a race distinguished for intelligence
and force of character; I beg you to display those qualities on this
occasion.”
He left her in hysterics, clinging fiercely to her boy.
 CHAPTER XXVII
No sooner was the Pasha gone than Umm ed-Dahak crept back
softly to her mistress and cooed of consolation in her ear.
Muhammad, who had started howling out of sympathy, she told to
go and play with Ghandûr’s son.
“By Allah, it is all my fault, not thine,” she whispered. “I ought to
have foreseen this grief and warned thee. Vex not thy soul at all! It
is no matter! Praise be to Allah, we can change our policy. To-
morrow thou wilt beat thy son a little, and all the world will praise
thy management.”
But the mother’s tears were flowing less from sense of guilt than for
the helplessness, the lack of energy, which she discovered in herself
at such a crisis. The call to make an effort paralysed her; she hung
on Umm ed-Dahak like a frightened child, agreeing with loud sobs to
the old woman’s statement that on the morrow they would make a
new beginning.
That afternoon the little boy had been invited to Gulbeyzah’s house.
His mother being too unwell to bear him company, he started off on
foot in the custody of Ghandûr. Barakah adjured him to be very good
and mind his manners, on which he kissed her with a most angelic
smile.
“See how obedient and how good he is!” she wailed, her anguish
breaking out afresh when he was gone. “How can they say he is not
well brought up?”
“Without a doubt they have been misinformed,” cooed Umm ed-
Dahak. “They have mistaken some exceptional disorder for his
general conduct Ma sh´Allah! With but a touch of discipline, a very
little teaching of good manners, thou wilt make him glorious, a
pattern to all other children of this age.”
But Muhammad, who had set forth as an angel, returned a little
devil, in a sullen rage. He would not speak a word, refused all
nourishment, and sat aloof with frowning brows and gnashing teeth.
Ghandûr, who brought him home, had sent in word that he had been
a naughty boy and needed punishment. So Ghandûr also was his
mother’s enemy.
Muhammad struck at all the women who came near him. He swore
by the Most High to ravish every one of them, to tear their eyes out
and cut off their hands and feet. The servants laughed at his
ferocious impotence, which made things worse. When his mother
came and knelt beside him, he at first repelled her; but after half an
hour’s incessant coaxing she elicited his cause of grief.
He had been pretending in his play to kill Gulbeyzah’s little girl—“not
really hurting her,” he blubbered, “though she shrieked like a dying
fowl”—when all at once, without the slightest provocation, a big boy
assailed him, flung him down and knelt upon him, pinning his two
hands. While he was in that position the ladies of the harîm had
come in and reviled him, praising his cruel persecutor as a hero.
They had then conveyed him, kicking, to Ghandûr, who, like the
beast he was, believed their lies.
“It is no matter, O beloved! Dry thy tears! Never—never shalt thou
visit that unfriendly house again,” his mother whispered.
Muhammad hiccuped on a sob, “Wallahi!” and fell again to gnashing
of his teeth and moaning.
“See!” murmured Umm ed-Dahak. “See his dauntless spirit! By Allah,
it is true, he must be tamed a little.”
That night he cried himself to sleep, and in the morning was
snappish and morose, with furtive eyes. About the fourth hour of the
day his mother missed him, and having sought through all the house
in vain, conceived grave fears. She sent a eunuch to the Pasha’s
palace, while Ghandûr cried the tidings through the quarter.
Distraught with grief, she ran from room to room in the hottest
hours of the day, always expecting to find Muhammad hiding
somewhere. At last she sank down on a couch, exhausted.
The third hour after noon, as she was lying thus, Gulbeyzah and her
durrahs were announced. They entered with much tragic
exclamation. Then the truth was known. Muhammad had repaired
that morning to their house and joined the children’s games,
appearing friendly. But he was only waiting for his chance of
vengeance; for, luring Gulbeyzah’s little girl apart, he stabbed her
with a dagger he had got—the Lord knew how!—and cried to her big
brother, “Thy account, O tyrant!”
His victim—praise to Allah—was not killed; nor even, by His mercy,
maimed for life; but the ensuing uproar in the house may be
imagined. The murderous child had been imprisoned in a room
apart; the lord of the harîm, when summoned, had sent at once for
Yûsuf Bey, who was even now examining the culprit. Directly the
responsibility had been lifted off them, they (the ladies) had flown
straight to Barakah to assure her of their unimpaired affection. But—
merciful Allah!—what was the world coming to? They sought refuge
in Allah from such revengeful fury in so small a child.
“You must have used him very cruelly,” the mother cried. “He is by
nature the most generous of children, not a criminal!”
At that, all four began to talk at once. Barakah talked against them,
and the slave-girls and dependants, looking on, raised cries. The
argument was at its height when Yûsuf was announced. The din
ceased instantly. The four Circassians raised their mouth-veils in
alarm and slipped away; the servants, silenced, went into another
room.
Yûsuf entered, stern of countenance, dragging by the arm the
peccant boy, whose mouth hung open, while his eyes stared wildly,
fixed in the imbecility of abject fear.
Barakah fell down at her husband’s feet and screamed for mercy. He
was obdurate.
“Let be, O woman!” he commanded. “My child, as trained by thee, is
now a malefactor. He robs and kills; he breaks the law of hospitality.
He stole a weapon from Ghandûr, his foster-father, and with it
stabbed a little girl, whose guest he was. Henceforth I take him from
thee, and give him to my mothers to be educated. Seek not to
counteract their efforts, or by the Ca’abah I will beat thee soundly as
I now beat him.”
With that, he marched his son into an inner room, whence presently
there issued sounds of blows and bitter wailing. Barakah ground her
face upon the floor and stopped her ears.
Muhammad, by his father’s orders, was shut off from her that night;
and the next morning, before Yûsuf went to business, the Pasha’s
harîm carriage came to fetch the child. The eunuch brought a letter
from Murjânah Khânum, inviting Barakah to come and give her
counsel. But Barakah’s sole answer was an angry cry.
For several days she would not budge from her own rooms, refused
to see the Pasha’s ladies when they called, and persisted,
notwithstanding every argument, in posing as the victim of most foul
injustice. And Umm ed-Dahak coaxed and soothed her all that while.
At length, one day, Murjânah Khânum entered, unannounced; and
Barakah, in act to rise and make indignant protest, was silenced by
the sight of her own child.
“Go, O Muhammad, do what I have told thee,” said the old lady, with
her hand on the boy’s shoulder. Whereat Muhammad went up
gravely and bowed over his mother’s hand to kiss it, but she caught
him in her arms, preventing him. He called out to Murjânah Khânum
that it was not fair, and struggled to get free. She put him down,
when he went on with his polite performance, kissed her hand and
pressed his forehead to it, inquired after her health and asked her
blessing; and then in the most courtly Arabic asked what he had
done that one of his parents, who were dearer to him than all living
creatures, should punish him by five days of avoidance.
“The harîm of my grandfather, Muhammad Pasha Sâlih, depute me
to request that thou wilt honour us this day and every day with thy
most gracious presence, O my mother.”
Before the termination of this speech and ceremony, Barakah was
lying on her face in tears. She had thought, through the long hours
of deprivation, that they were teaching her own child to disregard, if
not to hate her. The relief was great. Murjânah sat beside her and
caressed her, while Muhammad, standing reverently, looked
concerned.
They took her with them in the carriage to the Pasha’s house,
where, instead of reprobation, she met boundless sympathy. The
ladies Fitnah and Murjânah told her all that had been done for the
small boy, with evident anxiety for her approval. Muhammad showed
her all the harîm pets. He bade a slave-girl bring his own white
doves. She brought three in her bosom. At his call, they flew to him
and settled on his head and shoulders. There dwelt a parrot in the
house of Na’imah, a monkey in the house of Fitnah Khânum, which
she had to visit; as well as roving cats, and little birds in cages, and
several street-dogs who came round for food. He also showed with
pride his plot of garden, consisting of a box of scented herbs. And all
the while that she was in the house, he waited on her like a page,
kissing her hand whenever he could get a chance, and telling her
the joy he felt in seeing her. When, left alone with him, she strove to
whisper consolation, he shook his head decidedly, and told her: “O
my mother, I have learnt to know that I was very wicked. Thou wast
ever much too gentle and too kind with me. Allah knows how much I
love thee—my grandmothers have taught me that—but it is well that
I should be removed from thee a while and brought to reverence. It
is not right that one so delicate as thou art should have a rough, ill-
mannered boy to vex her.”
He loved her more than ever, it appeared, but thought her not much
wiser than himself.
Her fear of the stern rules of El Islâm was tamed by reverence.
“By Allah, they are like the string and we the beads,” said Umm ed-
Dahak, holding up a rosary to point her meaning. “Thirty-three
beads of no intrinsic worth. If scattered, useless and soon lost. If
strung together, a comely instrument of praise to God.”
Barakah watched Muhammad with humility; not jealous of the
change which had been wrought by others, but choosing to regard it
as a miracle direct from Heaven. His pride, once wayward, now was
focused on his coming manhood. He told her all his thoughts, which
seemed to her most wise. He waited on her hand and foot when in
her presence. Yet in this deference there was a touch of
condescension which was absent from the honour which he paid to
Yûsuf. His father was his sovereign, she his tender care. Such
wisdom in so small a child appeared miraculous. She worshipped his
perfections while he bowed before her.
 CHAPTER XXVIII
At seven years old Muhammad went to school. It was customary for
the scions of great houses to be taught at home by private tutors,
but the family council had decreed that so exceptional a child must
feel the yoke of public discipline and mix with other boys as soon as
possible. The school, just founded by the widow of a former ruler,
was reckoned modern, for the simple reason that the scholars learnt
geography and history, and handled other books as well as the
august Corân.
Ghandûr led off Muhammad every morning, and brought him home
at evening through the perils of the streets. Barakah’s thoughts were
with him all day long; she liked to guess at his employment at a
given moment; while Umm ed-Dahak painted flattering pictures of
his skill in learning, the astonishment of all his masters at his brilliant
genius.
When she was driven out to pay her calls, Barakah arranged
beforehand with the eunuch that the carriage should pull up before
the school. Then through the shutter she would watch the iron
screen which filled each window-arch and listen to the drone of
children’s voices.
The school was an octagonal kiosk of marble, touching the wall of a
world-famous mosque. Its salient bulk half throttled an important
thoroughfare, forming a narrow strait where traffic battled, and on
each side a little bay or backwater where the carriage could draw up
without obstruction. There, underneath the windows with their
arabesques of iron screen-work, sat street sorcerers with trays of
sand before them, venders of sugar-cane and slabs of bread and
divers nuts; and holy beggars slumbered in the shade. Barakah
knew exactly where Muhammad had his seat and, waiting upon that
side, watched a certain opening in the iron-work, from which there
presently emerged a little hand. It fluttered for a moment and was
then withdrawn. She waited for a second signal and a third before
she gave the order to drive on.
At school Muhammad’s aim was to excel by all means. The counsels
of Murjânah Khânum, who used religious and inspiring words, had
fired his brain. He had but one ambition now—to please his father.
He would prove the best of Muslims, the most zealous, the most
learned, and then his father would forget his former wickedness. In
pursuance of this end he chafed at every obstacle and was infuriated
by stupidity or sloth in others. He beat his foster-brother more than
once through mere impatience, and in the end put zeal into that
vacant but receptive youth. And Barakah, whose worship of her
paragon extended to the son of Ghandûr as his shadow, became the
confidante of all their thoughts and projects.
The report which the headmaster made to Yûsuf Bey after
Muhammad’s first few weeks at school was satisfactory.
“The boy, thy son,” remarked the reverend man, “is highly gifted and
extremely diligent. In sh´Allah, he will live to be a light to El Islâm, a
glory to this land of Masr, and a worthy slave of the Most High. We
have only one small fault to find with his behaviour, which is that, in
his eagerness, he answers questions we address to other boys, and
is inclined to argue with the teacher as if instruction were for him
alone.”
His mother was delighted with this verdict, whose one restriction
seemed to her the highest praise. She began to cherish visions of his
future greatness, and with the aid of Umm ed-Dahak built grand
castles in the air.
“In sh´Allah, he will rise to rule in Egypt; he will be the right hand of
the Khedive, the chief vizier, the leader of the armies; the sword and
shield of El Islâm, the scourge of Allah on the heathen and all
infidels.”
Thus Umm ed-Dahak, seated on the floor beside her mistress; who,
reclining on the dais at ease with her narghileh, removed the amber
mouthpiece from her lips to sigh, “In sh´Allah!”
In order to be worthy of her son’s magnificence, Barakah had
evolved a fine romantic history out of her own past. The
transmutation of that dross to gold took place so naturally that she
was not aware of lying when she told her crony that she was of royal
birth. Gentility being something inconceivable by Umm ed-Dahak,
who knew of no inherited prestige save that of an Emîr, she was
obliged, in order to convey the status of a governess, to compare it
with the lot of fallen princes. From thence to the invention of a
principality was but a step. The remonstrance of the Consul and of
Mrs. Cameron against her marriage became the rage of a fanatical
and angry nation. The noise of her conversion had disturbed all
Europe, and nearly brought on a religious war. Let Umm ed-Dahak
ask the Pasha, if she doubted!
But Umm ed-Dahak was not of the kind who doubt. For her,
romantic fiction was more worth than fact. She accepted this, as she
accepted every tale, artistically, and even added likely details
unperceived of Barakah.
The servants came to know the weakness of their mistress and
addressed her as “Emîrah” with all kinds of ceremony. The disease
was catching; they themselves became infected. With the blacks
illusion took the form of demoniacal possession. Each one began to
brag of “him who dwells in me,” his power and jurisdiction over
other demons. Barakah overheard them talking of their inmates,
discussing pedigrees and finding out relationships which had
existence only in the world of ginn. She once complained of their
insanity to Fitnah Khânum, and asked what could be done to put a
stop to it.
“I know one cure for devils as for every other illness of unmarried
girls, and that is matrimony,” was the answer. “Among us here it is a
sovereign remedy; among the Franks it seems less efficacious.”
“Among the Franks such foolish fancies are unknown,” laughed
Barakah, when Fitnah Khânum sniffed, but said no more.
“The poor one is herself possessed,” she told Murjânah afterwards.
“The servants say a princess of the ginn inhabits her; and she
complains because they also harbour inmates. She ought to see a
proper exorcist.”
The ladies all agreed to pity her. But Barakah, unconscious of their
criticism, pursued her path of dreams with Umm ed-Dahak.
“May fire consume the infidels who thus dethroned thee, who
robbed thee of thy land and honours!” cried the latter. “O day of
milk, when thou didst fly for succour to the Muslimîn! They will
avenge thy wrongs, in sh´Allah, in the time to come. Thy son shall
win his birthright back with fire and sword.... Ma sh´Allah! Do I not
behold his state? I see him on a throne, with courtiers prone before
him—Muhammad Yûsuf Pasha, styled ‘the Great’—nay, what say I?—
the Emîr, the King Muhammad in virtue of his mother’s dignity!” cried
Umm ed-Dahak with dilated eyes. “By Allah, the most splendid scene
I ever witnessed! He is Grand Vizier!”
But the downfall of the Khedive’s favourite, occurring at this epoch,
dashed the ardour of the seers, and caused them in alarm to change
their vision. The man, whose pomp had served them for a measure
of Muhammad’s greatness, disappeared from life. The story ran that,
having grown too great, he had been trapped by order of his loving
master, accommodated with a weighted sack, and dropped into the
Nile. The tidings caused a flutter in the world of women like that of
seafarers beholding shipwreck. For the favourite’s death involved the
ruin of a great harîm, boasting its troupes of dancers and of trained
musicians, lavish of entertainment and of gay repute. Its members,
far too many to be all beloved, had, some of them, found vent in
wild amours which furnished thrilling stories to more lucky women.
Now all the slaves were scattered among other houses; the ladies,
owning private property, returned to their relations pending further
marriage. The great man’s children were reduced to mediocrity; his
honours and emoluments divided up among a score of courtiers; his
name became a byword for pride’s fall.
“Wallahi, our beloved must not follow in his steps too closely. Allah
forbid!” said Umm ed-Dahak solemnly. And forthwith she began to
make another forecast, with frequent “In sh´Allahs” and “Ma sh
´Allahs,” to rob it of all taint of boastfulness. “He goes up gently,
rousing no suspicion in the ruler, winning the people’s voice, as did
Muhammad Ali. Then, when the times are ripe, he asks the
Sovereign and his courtiers to a banquet and cuts all their throats.
Then he ascends the throne and does good deeds, till all men praise
the Maker for his rare benevolence. And thou, his mother, wilt reside
in splendid state, and when the great ones of the English come with
gifts for thee, thou wilt spit upon them and repel them with thy little
foot. In sh´Allah!”
Barakah would be a widow in those days, by Allah’s mercy. A queen,
she would of course have many lovers. Did she desire a man—one
word, and he was hers as quick as lightning! And Umm ed-Dahak
would be ever at her call to spread the net for goodly youths and
guard her secret.
“But I shall be too old by then!” laughed Barakah.
“Please Allah, no!” cried the old woman, a trifle vexed at being
brought to earth. “Thou wilt be still quite youthful. See thee now:
what beauty, what a youthful figure! By Allah, almost wicked in a
mother! Thou dost not grow old.”
In fact, her shape, though something fat, was not ungainly, like that
of younger women leading the same life. She took no care of it,
conforming to the harîm custom for women who bear children to let
beauty go. “The time and purpose of the bloom is past, the fruit
succeeds, more noble,” they assured her. She saw the rarest
beauties, like Bedr-ul-Budûr, already changing into fat old women.
Compared with them she felt still young and comely. But when, her
carriage rolling on the Gîzah road, she saw real Frankish women,
riding, driving, she felt a raddled and unwieldy hag. There was one
Englishwoman in particular who often passed her, driving a light
dog-cart with a Nubian groom behind—straight as a lance and trim
of waist, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes under grizzled hair. A
creature of free air and open sunlight, the shuttered, perfumed
shade could not produce her like. A jealousy near hatred stirred in
Barakah.
One evening Yûsuf, thinking to amuse her, had sent her with his
sisters and Muhammad to the new opera-house which the Khedive
had built to please the European visitors, and also to provide His
Highness with relays of mistresses. There, in a harîm box behind a
screen, she smoked cigarettes and listened to what seemed mere
senseless screeching to one who had admired the voice of Tâhir. The
opera was Don Giovanni. Never had she witnessed a performance so
stilted, artificial, and absurd. She quite agreed with the remarks of
her companions, who, after their first wonder at the building and the
lighted stage, yawned openly and called it simple madness. Yet the
entertainment was no bad one to the taste of Europe, as she knew
from the applause of people in the unscreened boxes, where
barefaced, brilliant women sat and stared about them. The mere
existence of those women there in Cairo, transgressing every native
rule of conduct, was an insult. The freshness even of the old ones
made her conscious of decay. When the girls after the second act
proposed to go, she agreed gladly. Muhammad screamed to stay,
and had to be transported bodily by Barakah, while one of his young
aunts held her hand upon his mouth. A very small boy at the time,
he had supposed the scene was laid in hell, and all the hideous
screams of the performers denoted pangs of tortured infidels.
Muhammad, for his mother’s sake, abhorred the English; and yet he
loved his mother, who was of that race. He reconciled these warring
passions by supposing the existence of a race of Muslims in the
British Isles.
One day, when he was ten years old, he came home with a face of
indignation, demanding, “O my mother, is it not quite true that the
English nation is as strong and warlike as the French, and nowise
subject to the lord of Paris?”
“True, O my son.”
“By Allah, that is what I said. We were arguing, a dozen of us, after
school. They all opposed me, stating that the French were much the
greater and more civilized. I, sure of my contention, asked a master
who stood by. He foolishly asserted that the French were stronger. I
informed him of his error in all courtesy, when, to my horror, he
began abusing me, detained me in the school an hour against my
will, and himself remained to gloat on my imprisonment.
“Nor is that all. No sooner was I free than I went to the house of the
principal and made complaint of the injustice. He said—the
malefactor!—thus escaping from the question, that it was a sin for
true believers to quarrel for the sake of infidels. I told him there
were Muslimîn among the English, as witness my own mother, who
is one of them. He had the rudeness to declare thou art a convert. It
was all that I could do to keep from plucking at his beard. I shall ask
my father to remove me straightway from a school where lying
insults and oppression thus prevail.”
“The principal spoke truth. I am a convert,” murmured Barakah,
hanging her head through fear of her son’s shame.
“Merciful Allah!” cried Muhammad, greatly shocked.
But in a moment he recovered from the blow. Kissing her hand, he
murmured fondly:
“Be not downcast, O beloved, it is not thy fault. My comrades sneer
at converts; but no matter. I shall still maintain that thou wert born
in the right way. Thou art still my dearest mother, loved and
honoured.”
The lover-like, protecting air became him rarely.
 CHAPTER XXIX
News from the world of men reached the harîm like voices from the
street without. From time to time some item, interesting them, was
cried in tones of censure or approval; but always in a manner of
abstraction. This apathy arose from centuries of strict seclusion, in
which, through change of dynasties and strife of factions, the
privilege of the harîm had been respected. The women felt that
politics could not come near them; the government which ruled the
men was none of theirs. A realm within the realm, they had their
own excitements, their own concerns of life and death and amorous
crime. Events the most important failed to move them, while trifling
breaches of religion or old custom caused a vast commotion in that
nursery of fanaticism.
One day, when Barakah was out driving in her carriage, she was
stopped near Abdîn palace by the pressure of excited crowds and
heard the sounds of angry tumult. The driver backed the horses and
then turned. On reaching home she asked the eunuch of the matter.
He shrugged: “It is the soldiers, O my lady. They are angry at the
coming of the Frank commissioners.”
It was then that she presumed to question Yûsuf, and learnt that
two commissioners, one French, one English, had come to take
control of the finances of the country. The Khedive, that jovial
libertine and spendthrift, was now bankrupt. The Europeans, as his
creditors, assumed the reins.
“But why the English?” questioned Barakah with irritation, for up to
then the French alone had been a power in Egypt.
“Wallahi, just because their men are clever,” was the answer. “They
bought up all our Sovereign’s shares in the canal. Their guile is
great, but greater Allah’s mercy, for the arrival of these Franks is
good for me. Knowing both their languages I am put forward to
receive them, and so rise in honour.”
In fact, a few days later he was made a Pasha.
But Barakah could not regard the case thus philosophically. The
intrusion of the English frightened her. If they should ever come to
lord it in the country her degradation would be unendurable. She
confided her displeasure to Muhammad, who took an interest in
politics as schoolboys will. He bade her have no fear; the Muslims
would destroy them presently. The women told her God would
intervene. But things went rapidly from bad to worse.
Since a French force under Bonaparte had entered Cairo, before the
era of Muhammad Ali, no such fury had possessed the world of
women as that which seized them on the deposition of the Khedive
Ismaîl. Whatever touched the majesty of El Islâm excited them; vile
infidels had here contrived the downfall of a Muslim ruler. And there
ensued a host of innovations, in which the hand of unbelief was
plainly visible.
The slave-trade had been formally abolished under Ismaîl, to please
the Franks, but with the customary wink of that facetious monarch.
The trade continued gaily with his sly connivance. Now, in his son’s
reign, it began to be suppressed in earnest. The slaves themselves
were loud in lamentation. When it was known that slavery itself was
menaced, the harîm chattered like ten thousand angry parrots.
“The Lord have mercy on us! It is gross impiety,” screamed Fitnah
Khânum. “Does not the august Corân lay down strict rules for the
control of slaves? Is it not therefore Allah’s will that they exist?”
“The trade in slaves is holy,” cried Gulbeyzah; “bringing every year a
thousand converts out of heathendom. If some are slain, it is no
matter, since the death of heathens is uncounted, like the death of
beasts. Without the cruel raids, the bloodshed, the survivors had not
known salvation. Praise be to Allah, they cannot suppress the trade
in us white people, since a father’s right to sell his child resides in
nature. Only since the English meddle do we hear such wickedness.”
Besides the slave-trade, good old customs were abolished—one
ceremony called the trampling, in particular, in which a sheykh,
renowned for piety, was wont to ride on horseback over strewn
believers. Some people thought the world was coming to an end,
and looked for the appearance of the final prophet. The times were
full of omens, portents, monstrous births. The French and English, in
collusion, gave command in Egypt; the monarch was a puppet in
their hands. The apathy of men amazed the women looking on. The
good Khedive appeared a devil to those hot non-combatants;
rebellion a plain duty upon all believers. They prayed for a deliverer
to be raised up; and in the absence of the prophet whom they half
expected, applauded the exertions of a simple soldier, who ventured
to oppose the wicked rulers.
With the exception of some Turks, who sneered from pride of race,
the whole harîm acclaimed Arâbi from his first appearance as a
champion. The women viewed the question very simply. Here, on
one hand, was a man who wished to free the land from foreign
interference, whose cry of Egypt for the Egyptians, must mean Egypt
for the Muslims, since the Copts were nobody; on the other, an
infirm, if not a wicked, ruler who was letting all the privilege of El
Islâm be torn away. In vain their men assured them the Khedive was
a good Muslim, and only deferential to the Franks from sheer
expediency; that Arâbi’s faction was the work of clever rascals, and
boasted not one man of solid parts. They took religious ground and
would not listen. They taught their children to admire Arâbi.
Muhammad, now a student in the school of war, assisted by his
faithful Ali, fought five boys who dared to ridicule the peasant
soldier. Though beaten many times the two did not give way, though
Ali, for his own part, would have fled thrice over. But Muhammad
was indomitable. Bruised and bleeding, he returned with fury to the
charge, till his opponents fled in pure religious terror of such
dauntless rage. A few weeks later the whole land was cringing
before Arâbi’s power. And then excitements followed thick and fast.
Muhammad brought his mother all the latest rumours. One day it
was:
“Great tidings, O my mother! All the Franks are flying! Ali and I have
been to watch them at the railway station. Such a crowd! The
faithful, past all patience, have risen up at Tantah and Iskenderîyeh
and slain thousands of them.”
A number of the loyal Turks were also flying. Amînah Khânum and
Bedr-ul-Budûr came to take leave of Barakah. They were bound for
Alexandria, in the train of the Khedive, and thence would take ship
for Constantinople if things grew no better. Muhammad, when
informed of their departure, rendered praise to Allah.
“They are vanquished,” he remarked. “But would to Allah that we
had more Turks on our side. These fellâhîn, though braggarts, are
great cowards. They need the whip to urge them into battle. I, who
am half a Turk and half an Englishman, cannot endure the
sluggishness of this Nile mud.”
The boy forgot the portion of his blood which was derived from
Fitnah Khânum, his paternal grandmother. It was Nile mud of the
thickest, but it did not show in him. All hot and noble counsels
moved him to enthusiasm; the lukewarm and the philosophical
enraged his soul. Stupidity or insolence in an inferior he could not
brook. If his commands were not obeyed at once and with
intelligence, he struck hard with the first instrument that came to
hand, and called down Allah’s wrath on the offender. The old Pasha
was delighted by those outbursts, as showing the commanding spirit
of his Turkish race.
“When all these low-born troubles have passed over, we must
procure him some small government,” he said to Yûsuf, who
acquiesced with a pathetic smile. He had not that supreme contempt
for the Egyptian rebels which kept his aged father calm amid the
storm. He held a good position, and he feared to lose it; whereas his
father had retired from public life.
Barakah delighted in her son’s account of the disorders. His
excitement and the animation of each glance and gesture provided
her with pictures upon which she brooded in the vacancy of summer
days. The air which drifted through her lattice was oppressive, the
sunlight like a furnace fire without; the voices of the street
complained of dust and heat; the ceaseless buzz of flies benumbed
the brain; the call for water rang incessantly through all the house,
and even Umm ed-Dahak felt too weak to talk. But Barakah was
happy, since Muhammad spent much time with her, finding her
conversation more congenial to his patriotic mood than that of
Yûsuf. In his absence she lay still and smoked, and quenched her
thirst at frequent intervals, taking scant notice of her little daughter
—the only other of her many children who had managed to survive
the second year. Umm ed-Dahak loved the child and schooled her
privately, telling her stories of man’s love and woman’s duty, and
teaching her to pose and ogle in the proper way. But for the rest she
was of no importance; Muhammad’s known affection for her was her
only merit.
One afternoon Muhammad came in with a mien of wild excitement
and, having kissed his mother’s hand, cried out:
“Most dreadful news! O horror! O revenge! The English have
destroyed Iskenderîyeh with their cruel guns! The English only, since
the French, more honourable, fled from the hateful sight with tears
of shame. Simply because the forts were being mended, and work
was not relaxed at their command. But, praise to Allah, we have hurt
them also. Quite half their fleet has been destroyed by our brave
fire. After this, we give no quarter—no, by Allah! It is holy war.
Muhammad Tewfik is proclaimed a scoundrel. Our Arâbi is Dictator.
The army is to be augmented fourfold by forced levies. I met a boy,
no older than myself, who goes to fight. I go this minute to implore
my father to let me likewise join the army in the field.”
“Thy age is but fifteen. O Lord, he must not go!” cried out his
mother in an agony of apprehension.
“I am a man full-grown, proficient in all exercises that belong to war.
As young as I are going. Think, it is against the English, O my
mother—thy vile enemies!”
Embracing her without a thought for her despair, he left her in great
haste to find his father.
 CHAPTER XXX
Yûsuf Pasha was upon the point of going out when his son was
shown into his presence in his private room. He smiled upon the
stripling’s prayer to be allowed to fight, but said:
“No, no, my son. Thou art too young as yet. Wait till the war is
ended and then join the fray.”
With that he patted the boy’s cheek, bestowed his blessing on him,
and went out, little guessing that he left despair behind him. A
carriage waited for him at the door. An armed slave scrambled up
beside the driver. It was the hour of sunset. Two months since the
ways would have been merry at that hour. But now the passengers
were few and fully armed; they looked suspicious and, where groups
were formed, the talk seemed guarded. A curse had fallen on the
happy city. The sunset blushed on her high roofs, the crescent
flashed on all her spires and domes, and in the gullies which were
streets lay depths of shade; yet no one felt the rapture of the
evening.
Yûsuf, lolling in the carriage, gnawed his black moustache and
cursed the revolutionaries from his heart. He had attained the
wisdom which comes easily to middle age, hated disturbance and
distrusted novelty. The nervous passion which had marked his youth
still dwelt in him; but he reserved its transports for the calls of
private life; having another wife besides the Englishwoman, and two
concubines, whom he kept in the provincial centre whither public
business often called him. Politics had been for him a well-ruled
game, on which a man would be a fool to waste vitality. As a
functionary, he had lounged on sofas, telling beads, dictating orders
to his secretaries, at ease except when called before superiors; until
this military rising scared his soul. Its swiftness and success seemed
downright fiendish.
One day a painstaking, obedient native officer had been selected by
the Khedive Ismaîl to organize a riot hostile to the Frank
commissioners. He seemed so trusty and discreet that Ismaîl forbore
to execute him for the trifling service. Within two years he was the
idol of the native soldiers, the spokesman of their grievances against
the foreign Turks; in five, he was the incubus and dread of Egypt,
first Minister of War and now Dictator. That first employment
recommended him to schemers as one who did not fear to lead
rebellion. Straightforward and excitable, extremely zealous in
whatever charge he undertook, he was thrust forward by the clever
ones to posts of hazard. His prompters, Asiatics, saw the bounds of
his intelligence and thought to keep him in their hands, a priceless
instrument. But they had not allowed for the inflation of the African,
who, being once exalted, swelled and swelled until his greatness
overawed its very founders.
An honest man and a good Muslim, Ahmad Arâbi lacked the
cleverness of the conspirator; nor was he one. The sordid plots
which guided his career were spun behind him; while he pressed
onward with clear brow and conquering smile—a doomed man, in
the view of calm spectators.
Yûsuf had known Arâbi for some years and liked him personally; but
the Khedive Muhammad Tewfik was his friend from childhood.
Entreated by the agitators to take office with them, he had referred
the question to the good Khedive, who begged him to accept the
post thus offered, that he (Muhammad Tewfik Pasha, Lord of Egypt)
might have one friend among his so-called servants. Tied by his
duties, he had not fled to Alexandria with the Sovereign; but
remained behind in an absurd position, a member of the rebel
government which he abhorred. He was now upon his way to meet
some other Turks thus stranded, to decide on some safe line of
future conduct.
The rendezvous was at his father’s house, where, in the great
reception-room, he found a score of men assembled. All had the
faces of conspirators except his father, a very old man now, who
bade them welcome as to some court function.
“Where is my son Hamdi?” asked the patriarch upon the dais,
peering round upon the red-capped and black-coated throng.
“He is not with us. He has joined the fellâhîn. He dared not tell
thee,” answered Yûsuf sadly.
“Well, well,” remarked Muhammad Pasha, with benignity. “Boys will
be foolish! In Allah’s name I bid you welcome, O my friends. It is
well known that I myself despise these upstarts and have told their
leader my opinion to his face. Less old, I should have spent my life
and fortune for the young Khedive, whose ancestor, the great
Muhammad Ali, raised my house to honour; as it is, I pray to God to
grant him victory. But his dependence on the English likes me not;
and God forbid that I should influence your counsels. You have, each
one, his life and fortune to protect, his duty to decide towards El
Islâm.”
He stopped, and an uneasy silence reigned for quite a minute. It
was broken by a man exclaiming, “They have set up a tribunal in
each town with power to ruin or to kill a man on mere suspicion.
Hear the wording of a document which I received this day.”
With that, he took a paper from his breast and read aloud its
contents—a call in truculent, inflated language upon the patriot
Mahmûd the son of Hâfiz to show his fervour by a contribution to
the war fund; failing which, he would be prosecuted as a foe to
Egypt—“for the public safety.”
“Aha!” laughed the old Pasha in his thin, cracked voice. “A French
model, by my beard! For men who would eschew all foreign
influence! That is the hand of Tulbah, not Arâbi. The mountebanks!
The silly children—apish imitators!”
“By your Excellency’s leave the matter is extremely serious—for me
at least,” groaned out the owner of the notice.
“Thou wilt make the contribution?” inquired Yûsuf.
“Better flee,” remarked another.
And then they all began to talk together in low whispers with
frightened glances round the room, for spies were everywhere.
Flight was now hopeless, every one agreed; nothing remained but to
feign ardour in Arâbi’s cause, give up communication with the
loyalists at Alexandria, and pray for the usurper’s overthrow.
“They cannot last, I tell you,” chuckled the old Pasha. “These fellâhîn
are quite unfit for government. The young Khedive has been too
kind. He has not whipped them. My son and I were present when his
father warned him to execute these men, his creatures, who had
tasted power. A sad mistake, by Allah! For, Allah knows, we do not
want the English in this land. My life-work, that of all the old
diplomatists, has been to stave off European interference, by
compliments, by guile, by small concessions. O Allah, let me die
before the evil day! The Lord preserve us from the domination of the
infidels!”
The old man dropped his hands and hung his head.
“Better the English than this present anarchy,” another murmured.
“Already the whole land is overrun by gangs of brigands. The streets
here in the capital grow dangerous. There is no order kept except
among the soldiers. All trade, all enterprise is at a standstill, and
every public undertaking goes to ruin. Already all the people hate
Arâbi.”
“The Lord deliver us,” said Yûsuf, “from him and from the English
both. A dreadful quandary!”
When he went forth to his carriage, still in waiting, he told his slave
to have his pistols ready, and himself examined the revolver which
he carried. He wrapped a shawl about his face to pass unrecognized
and, thus protected and disguised, drove through the darkling
streets, where every wayfarer betrayed the like anxiety. Only the
street-dogs went about their work as usual, prowling along the walls
in search of offal.
At his own door a man accosted him. It was one of his paid spies.
He led the way across the hall into his private room.
“What news?” he questioned.
“May Allah turn it to thy good!” the spy replied, with his profoundest
reverence. “I have it from a member of the new Committee that
your Highness is marked down as a suspected notable. They say it
may mean destitution, even death.”
“I thank thee,” murmured Yûsuf and dismissed the man. Directly he
was gone he called Ghandûr and said:
“Didst thou not tell me, O beloved, that thou hadst some relative a
member of the new Committee for the Public Safety?”
“Yes, O my lord! The person is my father’s brother, a small
merchant.”
“Where is their place of meeting?”
“I can show it thee.”
“Do they meet every day?”
“I think so, but will ascertain.”
“Good. I shall wait upon them in the morning. At daybreak take ten
pounds out of the treasury and carry it to thy relation to bespeak his
favour.”
“Has aught untoward happened?”
“Untoward? Listen!” Yûsuf told the story.
“Merciful Allah! How can such things be?” exclaimed Ghandûr. “We
are the greatest in the land, they—filthy upstarts. How much does
my good lord propose to give?”
“A thousand pounds were not too much to save my life.”
“Deign but to hear my counsel! Give a hundred and ask leave for thy
son to join the army. He is prostrated by thy late refusal. His going
will prove more than any gift of money that thy heart is with the
cause—which, Allah knows, may be the right one, since our lord has
chosen to put trust in infidels. His mother even wishes it, to heal his
chagrin. She sent for me and asked me to entreat your Excellency.
We have good friends within the army who will see that he is kept
from fighting. My son shall go along with him, to be his servant.”
Ghandûr, the simple creature, was in tears.
“By Allah, I will think about it,” murmured Yûsuf.
Five minutes later he repaired to his son’s room, revived the lad, and
passing thence to the haramlik, told Barakah that her request was
granted. She was half stunned, for she had counted on his obduracy.
Not noticing her dazed condition, for his mind ran still on puzzles of
diplomacy, he added:
“Thou, who art English, O my sweet one, inform me of that nation!
Are they harsh as conquerors? What is their custom with regard to
vengeance? Do they burn and ravish, or merely punish those who
have borne arms against them? It is important I should know
beforehand if they win the day.”
Barakah stared at him vaguely for a moment; then bursting into
tears, exclaimed:
“Cut short thy life! O most unfeeling father! O appalling prospect! I
would sooner die a thousand deaths than see them conquer.”
“Merciful Allah, are they so fanatical?” gasped Yûsuf, with a face of
great dismay. “I meant not to alarm thee, O beloved. I was thinking
only of myself, how to behave in case things happened so, which
God forbid!”
But Barakah thought only of their son.
 CHAPTER XXXI
“A splendid victory at Kafr ed-Dowâr! A thousand infidels dispatched
to Hell, and not a single blessed martyr gone to Paradise!” cried
Umm ed-Dahak, entering her lady’s presence on a summer evening.
“Ghandûr has got the news-sheet, and craves leave to read it to
thee.”
The lady ordered him to be admitted instantly. Muhammad and his
servant Ali were at Kafr ed-Dowâr. Drawing her head-veil so as to
leave one eye visible, she listened to the short triumphant notice,
which began and ended with “the praise to Allah!”
“The praise to Allah truly!” she suspired. “Not one was killed.”
Ghandûr assured her then, as he had done a score of times, that
Muhammad, with the blessing of the Highest, ran no danger. By
arrangement with the leaders he was kept at work in the trenched
camp, away from fighting. But her anxiety was not allayed, her boy
was venturesome and, burning as he was to fight, might break
through rules.
Every evening in Arâbi’s journal there was news of some fresh
triumph, either at Kafr ed-Dowâr, by Alexandria, or on the banks of
the Canal, where the main force of the English was now operating.
She heard it said on all hands that the war would soon be over. Yet,
though every one abounded in exultant phrases, no single soul
appeared exceptionally cheerful; and she herself did not disguise her
sorrow. The absence of Muhammad was a constant pain. She gave
attention to her little daughter fitfully.
The weather was intensely hot, the town a desert full of dismal
noises. So many men had been compelled to join the army, so many
beasts of burden had been pressed for transport purposes, that
trade was paralysed and traffic almost ceased. When she drove out,
the aspect of the streets dismayed her; it was as if the city had been
ravaged by a pestilence. The European, Syrian, Armenian quarters
were utterly deserted, all the houses closed; and elsewhere there
was very little movement. In other summers the harîm had gone into
the country, and Barakah would gladly have drawn nearer to the
seat of war; but her husband vetoed the proposal instantly, the
country districts were unsafe and overrun by brigands. Yûsuf was
irritable in those days. He had his bed in the selamlik and seldom
could spare time to visit Barakah.
“I believe he has another woman somewhere,” she told Umm ed-
Dahak in a hopeless tone.
“It is his right, by Allah,” answered the old woman; “and no slight to
thee, if thou wouldst view it fairly, and throw aside the silly fiction of
the Franks. It is the nature of a man to have more wives than one,
and a woman should no more resent his doing so—always provided
he does not defraud her—than blame a cat for having several kittens
at a birth. Ibrahîm, the father of the faithful, Mûsa—all the prophets
till the crown of them (God bless and save him) married more than
one. Polygamy was in the customs of the Jews and Christians until
they fell away from El Islâm. Nay, a remembrance of it still exists
among the Franks. For do not their religious women dwell together
in one house, obedient to a rule like ours, attired like us, and call
themselves—I ask pardon of the Lord—Harîm Allah (the wives of
God)? Rank blasphemy, by Allah! Yet it shows that the old rule is not
entirely lost.”
Barakah was too disconsolate to be contentious. Let Muhammad but
return to her in safety and she would not care though Yûsuf took a
thousand wives; but in his absence everything seemed grievous.
A real sorrow overhung the house of Yûsuf; for the old Pasha was
fast sinking to the grave. Hamdi, the hot disciple of Arâbi, the poet
of rebellion, author of the famous calls to patriotism which were
printed every week in the official journal, was bowed down by grief.
He thought his siding with the malcontents had killed his father.
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