God Dies by the Nile and Other Novels Read Online Free PDF Page A

against the long galabeya from behind. Her pointed breasts moved up and down with each step. Beneath the tail of her galabeya two rosy, rounded heels peeped out.
    The Mayor turned round and addressed the Chief of the Village Guard. ‘For the life of me I cannot understand how Kafrawi manages to feed these girls of his. Look! The blood is almost bursting out of her heels.’
    The Chief of the Village Guard burst into noisy, raucous laughter, gulping in mouthfuls of air. He had suffered a silent torment for quite a while, for it had seemed to him that he was out of favour with the Mayor. Had not the Mayor been talking to Haj Ismail all the time? But now matters looked different.Immediately he felt his mood change, felt himself become gay once more.
    â€˜He is stealing from others no doubt. All you have to do is to say the word and we’ll push him behind bars.’
    He stood up majestically and gave a theatrical wave of his arm. Then pretending to call upon one of his aides, he shouted out loud.
    â€˜Boy, bring the handcuffs and chains immediately.’
    The Mayor, highly amused by these antics, roared with laughter, and the three men seated with him joined in, including Sheikh Hamzawi who found himself obliged to abandon the water-jar pipe he had been puffing at with zeal all the time, and to laugh more loudly than any of the others, displaying an erratic row of decayed yellow teeth, and jerking the yellow rosary beads frantically between his fingers.
    The Mayor waited until the hilarious laughter had subsided before addressing the Chief of the Guard again.
    â€˜No, Sheikh Zahran, Kafrawi is not a man to steal.’
    Sheikh Hamzawi now found it appropriate to intervene on a categorical note as though he was quoting from the Holy Koran on the sayings of the Prophet Mohamed.
    â€˜All peasants steal. Theft runs in their blood like the bilharzia worm. They put on an innocent air, pretend to be dull, kneel down before Allah as they would never think of disobeying Him, but all the time, deep inside, they are nothing but accursed, cunning, unbelieving, impious sons of heretics.A man will prostrate himself in prayer behind me, but once he has left the mosque, and gone to the field, he will steal from his neighbour, or poison the man’s buffalo without batting an eyelid.’
    He stopped for a moment to cast a look at the Mayor’s face. Reassured that his words were falling on appreciative ears, he went on.
    â€˜He might even commit murder, or fornication.’
    The Chief of the Village Guard crossed his right leg over his left leg, throwing the fold of his garment to one side in a way that exhibited his new pair of boots, and permitted him at the same time to convey the message that Sheikh Hamzawi was trespassing on ground which was strictly his.
    â€˜If we are going to speak of murder and fornication then the Chief of the Village Guard should have plenty to say, but…’ Turning to the Mayor with an ingratiating smile he asked, ‘Tell me, your highness, you who knows so much. Are people in Misr the same as in Kafr El Teen?’
    Sheikh Hamzawi intervened unceremoniously. ‘People have become corrupt everywhere, Sheikh Zahran,’ he said. ‘You can search in vain for Islam, or for a devout Muslim. They no longer exist.’
    He noticed an expression of disapproval on the Mayor’s face and hastily added, ‘Except of course where you are dealing with upper class people of noble descent like his highness, the Mayor. Then it’s a different matter.’
    He searched frantically in his memory for a verse from the Koran with which to back up what he was saying, but his mind had been dulled by the fumes of what he had been smoking. Undeterred, he made do by intoning sanctimoniously, ‘Allah enjoins you to inquire after a man’s descent for his roots will always find their devious way to his soul.’
    The Mayor pouted his fleshy lips at the Sheikh of the mosque.