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Again the mouthpiece fell, but this time it dropped on the folds of the Moor's dress, and in another minute steady breathing told that Ben-Ahmed was in the land of Nod if not of dreams. A sort of lightning change took place in the expressions of the young people. Hester's face beamed with intelligence. Foster's blazed with mute interrogation.
"Dey'll foller us in a minnit or two," continued the negro. "What kep' you so long, Geo'ge?" "Couldn't manage it sooner. But can you guess, Peter, why Ben-Ahmed behaved in the strange way he has done?
The graceful little creature had drooped since the departure of his mistress, as if he felt her loss keenly. Perhaps it was sympathy that drew it and Ben-Ahmed more together than in times past. Certainly there seemed to be a bond of some sort between them at that time which had not existed before, and the Moor was decidedly more silent and sad since Hester's flight.
Hester, who saw the Moor assume all shapes and sizes through the tears that filled her eyes, ran to him, and, throwing her arms round his neck gave him a hug that made even her father jealous. "Now, away, all of you," cried Ben-Ahmed, when he was released, "and may the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob go with you."
He found the Moor seated cross-legged on a carpet, smoking his hookah, with only a negress in attendance. His easel, he found, was already placed, and, to his surprise, he observed that the original drawing with which his career as a painter had commenced was placed upon it. "I wish you to finish that picture by introducing a figure," said Ben-Ahmed, with solemn gravity.
There I met our owner, who, when he saw me, threw a veil over my head and bade me sit still. I was too terrified and too despairing about my father to think of disobeying. "I think Ben-Ahmed, our owner, must be a man of power, for everybody seemed to obey him that day as if he was the chief man, though he was not the captain of the ship.
Thereafter he ordered out his horse, mounted it in his usual dignified manner, and quietly rode away into the darkness of the night. It may be observed here our middy had improved greatly in the matter of costume since his appointment to the rank of limner to Ben-Ahmed.
George Foster was half-way to the town before he recovered from his astonishment at the strange and unexpected way in which Ben-Ahmed had received his very plain speaking. He had expected that chains and the bastinado, if not worse, would certainly follow, but he had made up his mind to go through with it if need be to die for Hester's sake.
Suddenly there was a cry raised, and several slaves belonging to the inner household rushed into the outer house with glaring eyes, shouting that the English girl could not be found. "Not in de house?" cried Peter, starting up in wild excitement. "No nowhar in de house!" "To de gardin, quick!" shouted Peter, leading the way, while Ben-Ahmed himself, with undignified haste, joined in the pursuit.
And oh! how earnestly did that painter wish that Ben-Ahmed would retire even for a minute to give him a chance of exchanging a word or two with his subject. But the Moor was steady as a rock. Indeed he was too steady, for the curtains of his eyes suddenly fell, and shut in the owlish glare with which he had been regarding the middy.
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