Burning Sands Part 33

When he was once more alone, Mr. Bindane lay for awhile loosely in the deep red-leather chair. His open mouth, his vacant eyes, the perpetual pallor of his face, and his crumpled att.i.tude of collapse, might have led an observer to suppose that he had pa.s.sed quietly away. He was, however, merely absorbed in a series of interesting thoughts. He was thinking that a possible engagement between Lady Muriel and Lord Barthampton would probably have the effect of sending Daniel Lane back to the desert in despair. He was thinking what a great deal of tact would be needed in buying up the land of the Oases from the natives, as he intended ultimately to do. He was thinking how very tactful Daniel Lane was said to be; and how wasted, commercially, he seemed to be at the Residency.

CHAPTER XXI-THE CLASH

During the next three days Muriel flung herself into her social engagements with desperation. She wanted to prevent herself from thinking about Daniel, for her att.i.tude towards him baffled her and put her out of conceit with herself. She was violently jealous of this Lizette, whoever she might be; but, somehow her jealousy did not estrange her from her lover. All the more pa.s.sionately she wanted Daniel to belong to her: she wanted to step into his life, to drive all else out, and to take possession of him. It is true that she meant to hurt him, to punish him; but, even while being angry with him, she knew that she would ultimately forgive him.

Had her training been other than that of the typical young woman of the world, she would probably have regarded her relationship to him as at an end; but she had been brought up to the idea that men have to be indulged in their little peccadillos and excused for their excesses, and now, somewhat to her own annoyance, she found herself exonerating him.

She was hurt, she was offended, she was jealous, she was disgusted; but she was not completely estranged. She declared to herself with her lips that she could never feel the same to him again; but her heart, by its very sorrows, gave the lie to her pa.s.sionate mutterings.

She did not have many opportunities of speaking to him during these three days, and she shunned the beginning of what she knew was going to be a serious quarrel. But on the fourth day circ.u.mstances threw them together: and then the trouble began.

They had both accepted an invitation to luncheon with Colonel and Mrs.

Cavilland; and, Muriel's presence being the social feature of the occasion, she did not feel that she ought to disappoint her hostess. Nor could she avoid driving to the house in Daniel's company; and it was only the shortness of the distance that prevented some sort of an outburst.

As it was, she was distant and preoccupied, and Daniel looked at her every now and then, wondering what could be the matter.

Lady Smith-Evered was one of the guests; and the question as to whether the Colonel should take her or Lady Muriel as his partner must have been the subject of much discussion. It had evidently been decided, however, that the daughter of Lord Blair took precedence of the wife of Sir Henry Smith-Evered; and Colonel Cavilland therefore led the former into the dining-room, and to Daniel fell the duty of giving his arm to the latter.

Lady Smith-Evered plainly showed her indignation at this outrage by a mere colonel of Dragoons upon the martial dignity of the Commander-in-Chief; and for much of the meal she hardly spoke a word.

Daniel was thus left to look about him; and he observed how gaily Muriel laughed and joked with her partner, and with Captain Purdett upon her other hand.

s.n.a.t.c.hes of her conversation came to his ears; and he was conscious, as ever, that the things she said in public had no relation to those meant for his private hearing. When she was alone with him she spoke with frankness and sincerity; but to other people she seemed to be striving after an effect, and just now, somehow, he would have liked to have shaken her, even though she made him laugh.

The colonel was talking about the recent discovery at Alexandria of a Greek papyrus, extracts from which had appeared in translation in the Egyptian Gazette.

"It's a treatise on love," Colonel Cavilland was saying. "The Greeks were specialists on that subject."

"Oh, I thought they were general pract.i.tioners," Muriel replied, and was rewarded with a burst of laughter.

He spoke of the pa.s.sages quoted as being very charming, direct, and simple; and Muriel remarked that she had always thought of the Greeks as wicked old men who sat on cold marble and made hot epigrams.

"But in this case," he laughed, "the author seems to have been a poor shepherd."

"Then no wonder his views were peculiar," said she. "'Poverty makes us acquainted with strange bedfellows,' they say."

The colonel glanced at her apprehensively, but Muriel's face seemed to show perfect innocence. "Oh, well, for that matter," she added, musingly, "I suppose wealth does, too."

Her host's breath appeared to be taken away by her audacity. He was not used to the style of chatter current in what are called "smart" circles.

He caught Daniel's eye, and, seeing that he had been listening, winked at him; but Daniel turned quickly away, and made another abortive attempt to engage Lady Smith-Evered in conversation.

Mrs. Cavilland observed his difficulties, and helped him to enter the gaieties at her end of the table; but here, again, he felt himself to be out of harmony with the laughter, and he began to think himself a very surly fellow.

Mrs. Cavilland was amusing her neighbours by making fun of the wives of the minor officials in Cairo; and she was clever enough to rend them so gently that her feline claws were hardly to be observed, her victims seeming, as it were, to fall to pieces of their own accord.

"What a cat I am!" she laughed. "Mr. Lane, I can see your disapproving eye on me."

Lady Smith-Evered leant forward. "Mr. Lane disapproves of everything English," she said. "He prefers natives."

"Oh, it's not as bad as that," Daniel replied, with a smile. "I've got the greatest admiration for my countrymen in the rough...."

He checked himself. He felt that he was being a boor. He wanted to add: "but I detest the ways of this politely infamous thing called Society."

It was Muriel, strangely enough, who came to his rescue. "Oh, don't take any notice of him," she said, speaking across the table. "That's only his fun."

If she spoke with bitterness she concealed the fact; and Mrs. Cavilland, knowing that he had lived much of his life in America, presumed that his form of drollery must be of that kind to which English people are notoriously obtuse. She did not wish to be thought slow in the uptake, and she therefore laughed merrily, declaring that he was "a perfect scream," which so tickled Daniel that he, too, smiled.

There was to be a garden party at the Residency that afternoon, which, owing to the antic.i.p.ated presence of a number of native dignitaries, he would be obliged to attend. As soon as luncheon was finished, therefore, he whispered to Muriel, suggesting that they should leave early, and thus have a little time together before the afternoon's function.

"I _must_ have an hour alone with you, Muriel," he said. "I'm feeling all on edge."

Muriel shook her head. "Can't be done," she answered casually. "I've promised Willie Purdett I'd go for a spin with him in his new car."

"Well, tell him you've changed your mind," he said, deliberately. "I want you."

"I'm afraid you're too late, my dear," replied Muriel, and turned away from him.

Later, at the garden party he watched her as she moved about the lawn; and he seemed to be unusually sensitive to the number of young men who hovered around her. His philosophy had wholly deserted him, and his mind was disturbed and miserable.

Once he joined a group in which she was the princ.i.p.al figure; and again he was distressed by the tone of her remarks. It was almost as though she were trying to offend his ear.

Somebody had said "The good die young," but Daniel had not heard the earlier part of the conversation; and Muriel replied, "Yes, dullness is the most deadly thing on earth, and the most contagious."

He did not wait to hear more: he turned his back on her and walked away, his heart heavy within him. He was utterly out of tune with her.

That evening she was to dine with the Bindanes at Mena House and to spend the night with them, so as to be ready for an early start next morning upon an all-day excursion into the desert. It was to be a large and elegant picnic; and Daniel had been glad to be able to make his work an excuse for not joining the party.

Soon after dark, therefore, he found himself driving out to the Pyramids with Muriel and her maid; and on reaching the hotel he asked her to come into the garden for the half-hour before the first gong would ring.

"Oh, it's so dark out there," she replied. "I want to have a talk to you, too. Couldn't we find a corner in the lounge?"

"No," he said, "it's stuffy inside."

He took her arm, and led her towards the dense group of trees which surrounded the tennis court. She did not resist. This state of veiled hostility was intolerable, and she welcomed the thought of a pitched battle with him.

The night was moonless; and the hot south wind which had been blowing during the day had dropped, leaving the upper air so filled with a hazy dust that the stars were dim. The darkness, when they had pa.s.sed out of the range of the hotel lights, was intense; and it was with difficulty that they found their way to a bench upon the lawn, under the blackness of the overhanging foliage.

Here they seated themselves in silence; and, though they were close to one another, each could feel, rather than see, the presence of the other. The distant clanging of the tram-car bells, and an occasional grumble of an automobile, reminded them that civilization was not far removed; but here in the obscurity all was hushed, and there was a sense of detachment from the busy ways of mankind which was accentuated by the ominous hooting of an owl and by the gentle rustle of the trees, as the leaves were stirred by the dying wind.

"Well?" said Muriel.

"Well?" he replied. "Let's have it out."

"Oh, then you know there's something wrong."

"I know you have been trying to hurt me for the past two or three days,"