Upon this reasoning of mine, which I thought would seem decisive to her,
the Circassian reflected for a moment as if embarrassed as to how she
should answer me. But suddenly, just when I thought she was convinced,
she said: "All that you have said would be very true, if we were in Turkey; but
you know better than I do that in your country, your religion does not
permit you to have more than one wife."
"But," I exclaimed, more astounded than ever at her language, "do you
suppose, then, that Kondjé-Gul could ever doubt my honour or my
fidelity?"
"My daughter is a child, and believes everything," she continued. "But,
for my own part, I have consulted a lawyer, and have been informed that
according to your law she has become as free as a Frenchwoman, and has
lost all her rights as cadine which she would have enjoyed in our
country. Moreover I am informed that you can abandon her without her
being able to claim any compensation from you."
I was struck dumb by this bold language and the expression with which it
was accompanied. This was no longer the apathetic Oriental woman whose
obedience I thought I commanded like a master. I had before me another
woman whose expression was thoughtful and decided--I understood it all.
"While informing you that your daughter is free," I said, changing my
own tone of voice, "this lawyer no doubt informed you also, that you
could marry her to Count Kiusko?"
"Oh, I knew that before!" she replied, smiling.
"So you have been deceiving me these two months past, by leaving me to
believe that you had answered him with a refusal?"
"It was certainly necessary to prevent you from telling him what he now
knows.--The silly girl told him everything yesterday."
"How do you know that?"
I saw her face redden.
"I know it. That's enough!" she replied defiantly.
Feeling certain that Kondjé-Gul had not told her anything of the
incident of the day before, I divined that she had just left Kiusko's,
where she had been, no doubt, during our interview.
"May I ask you, then, what you propose to do, now that Count Kiusko
knows everything?" I continued, controlling my anger.
"I shall do what my daughter's happiness impels me to do. You cannot
marry her without being obliged to give up your uncle's fortune. If
Count Kiusko should persist in wishing to make her his wife, knowing all
the circumstances that he now does, you can understand that I, as her
mother, could not but approve of a marriage which would assure her such
a rich future."