African Enchantment by Margaret Pemberton

master’s wish.’
    They cantered towards the dung-filled streets. ‘ But why, if there is nothing here for me to see?’
    He grinned again. ‘Maybe not, Miss Harriet Latimer, English lady, but my master wishes to bathe and rest himself.’
    â€˜I still don’t understand …’
    Hashim said patiently, ‘My master does not trust the Pasha. He is a man who likes women. Many women. My master knows that with me you will be safe.’
    Harriet laughed with relief and pleasure. So that was why he had ordered her out into the heat of the afternoon. He had been jealous. It was a novel thought and one she liked. Hashim ignored the cesspool of Berber and rode away from it towards the banks of the river. The broad expanse of water glistened as it swirled onwards towards the coast. She gazed at it in fascination. Where had it come from? Already it was exercising as powerful a hold on her mind as it had on her father’s.
    â€˜Does anyone know the source of the Nile, Hashim? Do the natives?’
    Hashim shook his head. ‘It comes from deep in the heart of Africa. From country where no man goes, now or ever.’
    â€˜Not even Captain Beauvais?’
    Hashim looked at her strangely and dug his heels in his horse’s flanks, not answering but riding away from the reed-lined banks and obliging her to follow.
    They rode a little way in silence and then Harriet said, ‘Why does the Pasha have so many servants? I counted over fifty. Surely he cannot need so many.’
    Hashim frowned. ‘The Pasha has no servants.’
    Harriet said impatiently, thinking that he had misunderstood her, ‘Servants, Hashim. The men and women who tend the horses and fetch and carry. The girls who led me away to bathe and change.’
    â€˜They are slaves and concubines.’
    Harriet gasped, her eyes widening.
    â€˜Every Pasha has his slaves and concubines,’ Hashim said reasonably.
    â€˜But there were scores of them,’ Harriet protested.
    Hashim shrugged. ‘The Pasha is a wealthy man. He can afford to buy many women.’
    Harriet felt faint. The girls were no older than herself: some of them younger.
    She said in shocked outrage: ‘It should not be allowed! It should be outlawed!’
    â€˜The English do their best,’ Hashim said pacifyingly. ‘But it is of little use. In our country there has always been slaves. Why should it suddenly be different?’
    â€˜Because it is wrong for one human being to belong to another, like a chattel,’ Harriet said explosively. ‘If I had known I would never have set foot in the Pasha’s residence! I would rather have starved!’
    This time it was her turn to dig her heels hard into her horse’s side.
    â€˜Where are you going, Miss Harriet Latimer, English lady?’ Hashim called, taken momentarily by surprise at her out burst of rage.
    â€˜To Captain Beauvais!’ she shouted back over her shoulder. ‘I shall tell him immediately of the true state of affairs in the Pasha’s residence! Once he knows he will not even spend the night there!’
    Hashim sighed, foreseeing trouble in the days ahead. It was patently clear that Miss Harriet Latimer, English lady, knew nothing about the existence in Khartoum of his master’s slave. The Circassian – Narinda.

Chapter Three
    Harriet rode furiously, her whole being burning with rage. She would tell the Pasha herself what she thought of his domestic arrangements! Berber straddled before her and she reined in, aware that the way back to the Pasha’s residence was not as simple as it had seemed. A maze of dust-blown streets and alleyways confronted her. She took the widest and spurred her horse on. It could not be difficult locating a building as grand as the Pasha’s. Against the searing blue sky she saw the fluttering flag of the Ottoman Empire and rode confidently towards it. If the Pasha displayed his country’s flag so