“André, no!” she pleaded and freed herself. “I have to take care of my family now—just my family.”
He took a deep breath. “I respect your wishes. And so that you know I am serious, I will leave for Marrakesh today. I will be gone for some time. If you should need me, send a messenger and I’ll return immediately.”
When she did not answer, he lifted her chin with his hand and looked into her eyes. “Promise me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I shall rely on it.”
What would happen to herself and her children? Had Benjamin truly traded in slaves or was it all part of a plot?
Several days had passed since André’s departure, one week since Benjamin’s transfer to the Island of Mogador. Sibylla had tried to visit the qaid, but he refused to see her.
She could hear the boys laughing in the courtyard and playing with the wooden horses Benjamin had brought them. They seemed to have accepted Sibylla’s explanation that their father was away on a trip.
She sat at the desk in her office, trying to make a list of all the questions she had for Benjamin, but she just could not concentrate. Her thoughts kept wandering back to André. He must have arrived in Marrakesh by now. She wondered if he had spoken with the sultan yet. Had his petition changed anything?
She was torn out of her reverie by Tom’s voice, excited and shrill. “Mummy! The soldiers are back!”
Sibylla dashed to the gallery. Just a few yards from her on the landing stood the captain of the Black Guards, accompanied by two guards.
“Mrs. Hopkins, we have orders to search your house. His Excellency believes that your husband hid the money he made from the slave trade here.”
Sibylla coolly looked over the giant man. “Not before you show me His Excellency’s written order.”
Without saying a word, he held out the paper with the governor’s seal on it. She briefly considered asking Consul Willshire for help, but she had not seen him since the night of Benjamin’s arrest. Nor had Sara inquired after her. Sibylla doubted that they would come to her aid now. She took a deep breath and handed the paper back to the captain.
“Do what you must.”
It was not until after the maghrib, the prayer at sundown, that the three men left. The destruction was shocking, particularly in Benjamin’s office. The guards had slit open pillows and sofas, emptied drawers, and moved furniture. They had pushed over cabinets, torn apart books, and pried up floorboards. In the courtyard, they had dug holes around the olive tree and the fishpond and torn the water lilies out of the water. But they had not found a secret hiding place with money. What they had discovered was Benjamin’s coffer in one of the closets. The Spencer & Son Shipping Company regularly sent promissory notes that he exchanged for cash at a banker in the Jewish quarter. He used the money to pay suppliers as well as the sultan’s customs and tax officials. And he gave some of it to Sibylla, who used it to pay the servants and finance their household expenses. Although she explained all that to the captain of the Black Guards, he still confiscated the coffer. Some time later, he also discovered Sibylla’s rosewood box and confiscated that as well.
She protested vehemently. “Put that back! That is not the money you are looking for!”
The captain paid no heed to her and handed both boxes to his soldiers.
A little while later, the nightmare was finally over, and Sibylla was the picture of misery as she sank onto a divan, its horsehair stuffing pouring out.
“These barbarians have left us nothing!” she lamented to Nadira, who had begun at once to clean up the mess. “If all they had done was destroy the furniture, that would be one thing. But how am I going to buy food now? I cannot even give you your pay! If Benjamin had not paid rent for the whole year, we would find ourselves without a roof over our heads!”
The servant put down a cushion she had just picked up off the floor. “I have been saving my pay,” she said with dignity. “I always received everything I needed from my masters and rarely spent anything. We will be able to buy food, my lady.”
Firyal, who had been in the corner sweeping up shards, dropped her broom and ran out. She soon returned and timidly held out the pair of gold earrings Benjamin had given her.
“Please take these, my lady. You can sell them in the souk for a lot of wheat.”
Sibylla was touched, but she shook her head. “I thank you both from the bottom of my heart, but I cannot accept your savings or your belongings. I will find another solution.”
She furrowed her brow. “I will go to Mrs. Willshire and ask her to lend me some money. I also have my own money, my dowry. It’s in a trust, but I will write to my bank in London immediately and have them send me a promissory note.”
“I shall have to discuss this with William first.” Sara avoided Sibylla’s gaze.
The two of them were sitting in Sara’s drawing room. On the table between them, on a little lace cloth, stood a vase with flowering orange branches. They were sipping tea and nibbling little raisin pastries. But the external show of peace and harmony could not hide the tension between them.
Sibylla was deeply disappointed, but she swallowed her pride. “I will not need the money for long. As soon as I receive my promissory note from London, you will get it back, of course.”
Sara wiped an invisible speck of dust off the polished tabletop. “I wish you would understand, Sibylla, that there is nothing I can do for you. William handles our money. I don’t even have a key to the coffer.”
Sibylla stopped herself from telling Sara that all she needed to do was explain the circumstances to her husband. It was obvious that the woman she had considered her friend simply did not want to help her. She could no longer conceal her bitterness.
“I understand all too well. You and your husband have already passed judgment. In your eyes, we are swindlers and slave traders.”
Sara blushed deeply. “William made a great sacrifice for you,” she said defensively. “He immediately wrote to Consul General Drummond-Hay asking him to write a protest note to the sultan. Do you realize that my husband could get into serious difficulties if the accusations against your husband turn out to be true? And, with all due respect, he is still being held on the island!”
Sibylla stood up. “Please forgive me for inconveniencing you.”
Sara also stood, seeming sad and confused. “I am so sorry.”
“Good-bye,” Sibylla answered frostily and went to the door. “I’ll see myself out.”
After that, Sibylla and Nadira had rummaged through the house looking for cash.