Burning Sands

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

  CHAPTER XXVIII--THE SURPRISING FORTNIGHT

  It was mid-morning when they reached the house, and Daniel advisedMuriel to go at once to her room, whither Hussein presently broughtrefreshments and cans of water for the bath.

  "Send Mustafa to me," she said to him, but, understanding no English,and grasping only the name of the dragoman, he pointed towards theOasis, indicating by signs that the man had not yet returned.

  At this she went to the door of her room and called out sharply "Mr.Lane!"

  Daniel, who at the moment had just ducked his head in a pail of water,came into the refectory drying his hair with a towel.

  "What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything I can do for you?"

  "Where's my dragoman?" she asked, suspiciously.

  "_I_ don't know," he replied. "I haven't touched him."

  Hussein volunteered the information that Mustafa had not yet returned,and Daniel translated the statement into English.

  "Well, when he comes," she said, "please send him to me at once."

  "No," he replied, very decisively, "I'm going to send him straight offto El Homra before he hears of our little trouble this morning. I cantrust Hussein to say nothing in the village, but Mustafa I don't knowvery well."

  She turned angrily to him. "You do like bullying women, don't you!" shesneered.

  He looked at her with steady, serene eyes, "You won't need a dragomanfor a fortnight," he remarked. "He may as well make himself useful tothe Bindanes."

  With that he went back to his ablutions, and when, half an hour later,Mustafa made his appearance, Daniel immediately sent him off on his longjourney, telling him to convey his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Bindaneand to say that her Ladyship was in the best of health, and would comeback to them on the thirteenth day from now.

  This done, he called Hussein to him and spoke to him somewhat after thismanner: "Her Excellency," he said, "desires to go back to her friends,but I believe I shall be carrying out the wishes of her father byobliging her to remain here. You will therefore take her camel and mineinto the village, so that she cannot get at them; and you will notify meat once if she leaves the house. Otherwise you are to treat her with thedeference due to her high rank; and I think it will be best to make nomention of what I have told you to your friends."

  Hussein bowed, and at once went off to find a suitable stable for thecamels.

  When luncheon was announced a couple of hours later Muriel came into theliving-room, carrying herself with dignity.

  "Am I obliged to eat my meals with you?" she asked.

  "It will be more convenient," he replied.

  "I shall probably be sick," she muttered.

  "You'll get used to it," he answered; and therewith they sat down at thetable.

  The meal was eaten in a distressing silence, broken only by Daniel'spolite profferring of salt, pepper, and the like, and by his pressingbut vain invitations to her to eat a little more of this or that dish.When at length they rose from the table, he advised her to go to herroom to rest. "You must be very tired," he said, "after getting up soearly, and all that excitement."

  "I'll lie down," she replied, "but I don't suppose I shall sleep. Thevery fact of being anywhere near you disgusts me too much to allow me togo to sleep."

  "You must try to master that feeling," he said, with perfectseriousness. "It hurts nobody but yourself. I can quite understand yourbeing angry; but I think Al Ghazzali, the Muslim philosopher, put thematter in a nutshell when he said: 'God loves those who swallow downtheir anger, and not those who have no anger at all.' It only makes youyourself miserable to be in a temper; but try to say to yourself thatyou won't let me be of such importance in your life as to have the powerto upset you. You ought to say: 'Nothing that this fellow does can shakemy equanimity: he has absolutely no power over my inner self.' If youcan really say that to yourself you'll sleep all right. There'll be sometea going at half-past four."

  She stared at him freezingly and went out of the room, while Danielquietly settled down to his writing, refusing to allow himself anyfurther thoughts in regard to her.

  At tea-time he told her that he wanted her to come down into the Oasiswith him. "It will take your thoughts off yourself," he said.

  "Thank you," she replied. "I prefer to stay here in my prison. I wishyou'd realize that your society is obnoxious to me. I hate the sight ofyou."

  "I quite understand that," he said, "but, all the same, I want you tocome, please."

  "If I refuse," she retorted, "I suppose you'll drag me down by thehair?"

  "No." he replied, "not by your hair: only by your hand."

  She was too tired to put up any resistance, and soon they left the housetogether, descending by the rough path down the cliffs to the lowerlevel, where the shadow lay deep.

  Presently they entered the forest of palms, wherein, here and therestood a mud-brick hut or cluster of huts, upon the flat roofs of whichthe goats and chickens ran about, and sometimes a dog looked down atthem and barked.

  The shadow of the cliffs extended for some distance, like a blue veil,but further ahead the sun still struck down upon the Oasis, and themellow light, seen between the tree-trunks and foliage, was made so richby contrast with the cool tones of the shadowed foreground that Murielwas constrained to remark on its beauty. Pigeons fluttered to and froamongst the trees, those close at hand being white as snow, but those inthe sunlit distance appearing to flash before the eyes like gilded birdsof a fairy tale.

  Soon they passed out of the shadow, and now the sunlight was sprinkledupon them from between the rustling palm-branches overhead, and the dustof their footsteps was like a haze of powdered gold. Before them, in aclearing, a number of rough buildings, some of them whitewashed,encircled an open space of sun-baked ground wherein a number of nativessauntered to and fro. Here there were a few stalls, sheltered by tentingor tattered fragments of brown camel-cloth: grain being on sale at oneof them; at another, basket-work; at another, pottery.

  The loiterers and salesmen greeted Daniel with polite salaams, and tosome of them he spoke a few words; but they were too well-mannered, orperhaps too indifferent, to show any particular interest in Muriel, andeven when she paused to pat the shaven head of a little naked urchin,and to give him a piastre, there were few curious eyes upon her. Thevillagers seemed to be dawdling through a peaceful dream, unruffled bythe ardours and eagerness to which the Westerner is accustomed; andMuriel had the feeling that she had come into a lull in the breeze oflife, as when a sailing boat is becalmed and the sails flap idly. Eventhe tempest in her heart was quietened, and the warmth of the eveningcaused her to feel a languor that was temporarily almost serene.

  Daniel led her across the open ground to a lane between the ramshacklebuildings on the far side. Here, at a crazy-looking door, he paused.

  "I want you just to shake hands with an old man," he said. "He acted asguide years ago to one of your father's predecessors."

  "There's no need to say who I am, is there?" she asked, a littleanxiously.

  He smiled. "Your dragoman will have spread the news already."

  "I told him not to," she answered.

  Daniel made a gesture of impatience. "We must try to correct that," hesaid. "Secrecy is very unpleasant, though it is sometimes necessary.You'll find it always best to be frank when you can."

  In response to his knocking the door was opened by a small, smirkingboy, and they entered a little yard, wherein a clean cow, severalemaciated hens, and a couple of goats wandered about in front of atwo-roomed house, the rear wall of which appeared to be about tocollapse. Here a dim-eyed old man sat upon a native bedstead of splitpalm-branches, engaged in hunting for fleas in his cloak, and, as hisgnarled old fingers plucked at the folds, his grey-bearded mouth waspursed and pushed forward in the manner of a monkey.

  He rose, creaking, to his feet as he caught sight of his visitors, and,tottering forward, grasped Daniel's extended hand, who then introducedhim to Muriel.

  Daniel spoke to him in Arabic, and present
ly, turning to his companion,asked her to say something to the old man.

  "What shall I say?" Muriel enquired.

  "He is very old," Daniel replied. "Wish that God's face may shine uponhim. Say you hope the evening of his life may be full of peace andblessedness."

  "Yes, tell him that," she answered.

  "Anything else?" he asked.

  "Oh, make up something for me," she replied.

  "No," he answered, severely. "Please take your thoughts from yourself,and concentrate them on this old fellow. Think what is the best thingyou can wish him. Think hard."

  Muriel glanced at him in surprise, while her host turned his fading eyesto Daniel, asking what she was saying.

  "She is trying to think what is the most blessed wish she can make foryou," he replied, speaking in Arabic; and the old man beamed upon her.

  Muriel made an effort, and, taking his horny hand in hers, told him thatshe hoped he would keep his health and that his affairs would prosper.With an eye on his cloak, she wanted to add that she hoped he would havegood hunting, but she restrained herself.

  Daniel translated the words into the native tongue, and, after a briefconversation, they took their departure.

  As they walked down the lane Muriel asked him, freezingly, why he had soparticularly wished her to make herself polite to the old man.

  "I had no reason," he answered, "except that I wanted you to think ofhim and not of yourself."

  "Why?" she asked with increasing ill-humor. "Am I usually selfish?"

  "You have been trained to think first of yourself," he answered, withdisconcerting candour, "though by nature you are not really selfish atall. During this fortnight I want you to think mostly of other people."

  She had no time to reply before Daniel stopped at another and largerdoor, which he pushed open without a preliminary knock. Here, in a shed,two camels and a donkey stood feeding from a trough.

  "This," he told her, "is my hospital for sick animals. Both these camelshave saddle-sores, as you see, and the old moke foaled the other day,but the youngster died. She is very depressed about it."

  Muriel was interested, and patted the donkey affectionately, whileDaniel, stepping on to an inverted box, examined the camels' sores.

  "Just hand me that bottle over there," he said. "It's my patent mixtureof carbolic and lamp-oil. It keeps the flies off, and heals up the soresmighty quick."

  Muriel haughtily gave him the bottle, and watched him as he poured a fewdrops on to the wounds. Her attention was presently attracted by a boardnailed to the wall, upon which an inscription was written in large,flowing Arabic characters.

  "What does that say?" she asked, forgetting for the moment that she wasnot really desirous of holding any communication with him.

  "It is a quotation from the Koran," he told her. "I wrote it and stuckit up for a lesson to these people. It reads 'The _Prophet_ has written:There is no _beast_ on earth, nor bird that flieth, but the same is apeople like unto you, and unto God shall they return.'"

  "I like that," she said.

  He fetched a broom from the corner of the shed and held it out to her."Would you mind just sweeping the ground a bit while I clean up thetroughs?" he asked. "The native attendant is off duty today."

  He busied himself with his work, and Muriel, making a grimace, did asshe was bid. It was less awkward than standing still, and the cause wasgood though the job unpleasant.

  They walked home in silence through the gathering dusk. Daniel offeredher his hand to help her up the steep path which ascended the cliff tohis house, but she frigidly refused it; and when, presently, shestumbled and nearly fell, she scrambled to her feet once more insurprisingly quick time, as though to avoid his proffered aid.

  Later she sat down to the evening meal without uttering a word, and thesilence was extremely oppressive.

  "Look here," Daniel broke out at last, "I don't know what you feel aboutit, but for my own part I rather object to this silence."

  "I have nothing to say to you," she replied.

  "That doesn't matter," he said. "I will do the talking. I shall choose asubject and talk about it: you can listen if you want to."

  Therewith he gave her an account of the Bedouin tribes of this part ofthe desert, how they had come to settle there, how he had recovered apart of their history from the old tales and ballads which he hadrecorded; and he told her something of their curious laws and customs.

  Muriel's face did not betray any interest whatsoever, but Danielpersevered courageously until the meal was finished.

  "You can stay in this room and read a book if you like," he said to her,as they rose from the table.

  Muriel looked at him coldly. "Thank you," she replied, with an emphasiswhich she hoped was withering, "I prefer to go to my room. Good-night!"And with that she took her departure.

  The day had seemed intolerably long to her, and her smouldering angerhad flamed up within her at frequent intervals. She realized that Danielwas playing the schoolmaster to her, and she was determined not toknuckle under to him. If he had decided to keep her a prisoner here forthe full fortnight, she would do her best to make him thoroughlyuncomfortable. His cool, impersonal attitude annoyed her; she was amazedthat a man who but yesterday was branding her with his burning kissescould be today so entirely detached from emotion, and she flushed at theinsult of it.

  Her only consolation lay in the thought that he was injuring himself byhis behaviour. She would now never be even so much as a sister tohim--not even so much as a friend. When she had escaped from thishorrible place she would go to England, and soon, no doubt, she wouldmarry a nice, ordinary man, with sleek hair and a tooth-brush moustacheand long, thin legs; and as she came out of the church after themarriage ceremony she would catch sight of Daniel in the crowd and wouldsmile contemptuously at him....

  She was very tired, and many minutes had not passed before she abandonedthe pretence of reading the anthology of English verse which Daniel hadplaced in her room on the previous evening, nor was it long before shefell into a deep and dreamless sleep which held her as it were entombeduntil Hussein caused her resurrection by bringing in the bath-water inthe morning.

  The cool breeze and the sparkling air brought a certain feeling ofwell-being into her heart; but the meeting with Daniel at the breakfasttable was a wretched business, and was made all the more distasteful byhis evident good health and the morning freshness of his mind.

  "I hope you are feeling fit," he said to her. "We have a busy morningbefore us."

  That he was not speaking in jest was proved by the event. Soon afterbreakfast he took her down to the house of Sheikh Ali, and introducedher to the old man and his son Ibrahim. Thereafter the four of themwalked over to the open ground outside the mosque, where a large numberof men and camels were gathered, while on the outskirts of the area manywomen and children stood in the shade of the palms. Daniel explained toher that a large number of the chief men of the El Hamran were settingout upon the long journey to the far-off Oasis of El Khargeh, wherethere was to be a great gathering of the tribes. Sheikh Ali himself wastoo old and too feeble to go with the caravan, and his eldest son,Ibrahim, was remaining with him; but his younger sons and most of hismale relatives and adherents were going.

  She watched the animated scene with interest, and the hubbub came to herears with the wonder of novelty--the women uttering their strange,whinnying cries in token of their grief at parting with their husbands;the white-bearded old Sheikh embracing his sons, like a Biblical picturecome to life; the diversely robed figures steering their camels incircles and firing their rifles in the air; the barking of innumerabledogs skulking amongst the palms; and over all the brilliant sunshine andthe deep blue of the sky.

  She and Daniel shook hands with a very large number of men, and, as shewalked homewards after the caravan had departed, she had a confusedmemory of smiling bearded faces, dark eyes, and many-coloured robesfluttering in the wind.

  After sundown he took her down to the village, armed with pots of
ointment, to help him to doctor the eyes of two little grandchildren ofthe Sheikh, who were suffering from ophthalmia, and whose sight hisdaily ministrations were saving. And in the evening he continued hiswriting, leaving her to read a book until, with many yawns, she betookherself to her room.

  This day was typical of all the others in that surprising fortnight.Quietly and impersonally he led her through her duties, obliging her tomake herself useful in a score of different ways. Now he set her to thetask of classifying his photographs and notes; now he sent her down tothe animals' hospital to doctor the camels' sores; now he asked her tomassage the sprained ankle of a small girl who had been brought to thehouse for treatment; now he made her grace with her presence a villagewedding festival; and now he dispatched her with milk and eggs to thehovel of a blind old woman who lived on her neighbours' charity.

  In the afternoons he would take her for painfully long tramps over thedesert, for the good of her health as he told her; and when the silencebecame oppressive he would talk to her, whether she listened or no,about the nature of the birds they saw or whose footprints were markedupon the sand, about the geological formation of the country, about thejackals and their habits, and so forth. During their meals together heattempted, cold-bloodedly, to enlighten her on many subjects, andsometimes he would talk philosophy to her, endeavouring to give her anew standpoint on certain age-old themes, but "You do like preaching,don't you?" was the kind of response he received.

  Sitting opposite to him at the table, it seemed to him that she carriedherself with great dignity; and he had to admit that, under thecircumstances, she was a great deal more self-possessed and high-mettledthan he had expected her to be. She stood up to him, so to speak, andthere were times at which he had the feeling, though he did not show it,that he was behaving like a boor.

  On one occasion in particular he was conscious of having been put torights by her. He had been talking about the sincerity of Islam, and hadsaid how wise the Prophet was to refuse to organize a priesthood,preferring to leave the faith in the hands of the laity.

  "It is so different from the empty ceremonials of our own religion," hesaid. "It seems to me that the Church's idea of the imitation of Christis generally a burlesque in bad taste."

  "In every walk of life," she replied, "there are men who make an outwardhash of their inner ideals. You, for example, have great ideas as towhat women should be; but in actual fact you make a terrible mess ofyour dealings with them."

  "I wonder," he mused. It was as though he had been chastised.

  She did not continue the argument. That was, to Daniel, the bafflingthing about her: she was growing so quiet now that she was in his power.She performed the tasks he set her almost in silence, and he could nevertell whether she were learning her lesson or whether she were treatinghim with contempt as a man who lacked sympathetic understanding.

  In her silence he seemed to find the quiet suggestion that she knewalready all he wished to teach her; and there were moments when he feltthat he had estranged himself needlessly from her. At such times he wasobliged to remind himself that she had deliberately treated his love asa romantic adventure, and such treatment had had to be dealt withdrastically. It was better that it should die outright than live tobring misery to them both; and with this thought he steeled his heart.

  Thus the days passed by--days of brilliant sunshine and warm, mysteriousnights, of active toil and healthy sleep; days meant for love andcompanionship, but turned down, one after the other, in cold antagonismand frigid reticence. Sometimes in the evening, after she had gone toher room, he would sit with his head buried in his hands, callinghimself a fool and loathing his role of schoolmaster; and more than oncethere was a black hour of despair when, had she come to him, she wouldhave been astonished to see his huge arms spread out across the tableand his head sunk upon his mighty breast.