He would have only my terrace roof on which to build a booth of pine boughs, and spread in it a few straw mats and cushions. But I was disappointed in my calculations; for in having him thus near me again, I had hoped to prevail upon him for his own good to temper his behaviour, to conform a little, to concede somewhat, while he is among his people.
But virtually he did not put up with me. He ate outside; he spent his days I know not where; and when he did come to his booth, it was late in the night.
I was informed later that one of the goatherds saw him sleeping in the ruined Temple near Ras’ul-Ain. And the muezzin who sleeps in the Mosque adjacent to the Temple of Venus gave out that one night he saw him with a woman in that very place.”
A woman with Khalid, and in the Temple of Venus at night? Be not too quick, O Reader, to suspect and contemn; for the Venus-worship is not reinstated in Baalbek.
No tryst this, believe us, but a scene pathetic, more sacred. Not Najma this questionable companion, but one as dear to Khalid. Ay, it is his mother come to seek him here.
And she begs him, in the name of the Virgin, to return home, and try to do the will of his father. She beats her breast, weeps, prostrates herself before him, beseeches, implores, cries out, “ dakhilak (I am at your mercy), come home with me.”
And Khalid, taking her up by the arm, embraces her and weeps, but says not a word. As two statues in the Temple, silent as an autumn midnight, they remain thus locked in each other’s arms, sobbing, mingling their sighs and tears.