Desert Love Part 16

"Dear old Jack," murmured Mary as her capable hand reached for a chocolate as she sat on the window-seat and waited until she heard the faint click of the gate, upon which she waved her handkerchief.

Prosaic sayings, prosaic doings, but those three prosaic words meant as much, and a good deal more to them, than the most exquisite poetical outburst, written or uttered, since the world began, might mean to us.

CHAPTER XXVII

By degrees Jill had become accustomed to the habits of the East, sleeping peacefully upon the cushion-laden perfumed divan, sitting upon cushions beside the snow-white napery spread upon the floor for meals, eating the curiously attractive Eastern dishes without a single pang for eggs and bacon and golden marmalade, revelling in her Eastern garments, from the ethereal under raiment to the soft loose trousers clasped above her slender ankles by jewel-studded anklets, delighting in the flowing cloaks and veils and over-robes and short jackets of every conceivable texture, shape, and colour, pa.s.sing hours in designing wondrous garments, which in an incredibly short time she would find in the scented cupboards of her dressing-rooms.

Then would she attire herself therein, and stand before her mirror laughing in genuine amus.e.m.e.nt at the perfect Eastern picture reflected, and drawing the veil over her sunny head, and the yashmak to beneath her eyes, and a cloak about her body, would summon the Arab to her presence.

Which shows that knowing nothing whatever about the Eastern character, she merely added a hundredfold to her attractions, for if there is one thing a man of the East has brought to perfection, it is his enjoyment of procrastinating in his love-making, pa.s.sing hours and days and weeks, even months in touching the edge of the cup, until the moment comes when, raising it to his lips, he drains it to the last drop.

To keep herself physically fit she had found strenuous recreation in two ways. Firstly, she had made known that her wish was to learn something of the dancing of the East, whereupon for a sum which would have made Pavlova's slender feet tingle in astonishment, the finest dancer in all Egypt and Asia had, for many months, taken up her abode in the beautiful house especially built for honoured guests just without the wall.

The supple, pa.s.sionate Eastern woman found it in her soul to love the slender white girl who laughed aloud in glee, and showed such amazing apt.i.tude in learning the A.B.C. of this language, especially reserved in the East for the portrayal of the history of love and all its kin.

Presents were showered upon the teacher who, with the craft of the Oriental mind, in some cases forbore to fully explain the meaning of certain gestures, so that unintentionally a veritable lightning flash of pa.s.sion blazed about Jill's head one night, when with the innocent desire of showing the Arab how well she was progressing in the art, she suddenly stood up before him and made a slight movement of her body, holding the slender white arms rigidly to her side, whilst her small, rose-tinted right foot tapped the ground impatiently.

"Allah!" had suddenly exclaimed the Arab, as he had seized her arms and pulled her towards him. "You would mock me, make fun of me, you woman of ice!

"How dare you make me see a picture of you in--ah! but I cannot speak of it in words, suffice that one day I will--Allah! you--you dare to mock me with a picture of that which you refuse me------!"

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about," had replied a very ruffled Jill, as with golden anklets softly clinking she withdrew to a distance. "If that is the effect of my dancing I will never dance for you, _never_!"

"But, woman, do you mean to tell me that you have no idea of the translation put upon your movements?"

"Evidently not," haughtily replied the inwardly laughing girl.

"That you do not know the movement you made just now meant that in the dimness of the night I--oh! I cannot tell you, but I swear before Allah that _I--I_, Hahmed, who have known no woman, will teach you the translation of every movement of all that you have learned."

Whereupon Jill, having seated herself upon the stuffed head of an enormous lion skin, murmured "_soit_," and proceeded to light a cigarette.

Her second and favourite pastime was riding, and, in as few words as possible, so that my book shall not ramble to unseemly length, I will tell you how the fame of her horsemanship had come to be spoken of, even in the almost untrodden corners of Asia and Egypt.

The whim seizing her, she would bid the Arab to her presence, sometimes to her evening repast, sometimes to sweet coffee and still sweeter music, sometimes to wander on foot or on camel-back through the oasis, to the desert stretching like a great sea beyond, and still beyond.

Everything, as you will note if you have the patience to get through to the end of this book, happened to Jill in the light of the full moon.

On this night in question, clad all in black, with the moonbeams striking rays from the silver embroidered on her veil, and the anklets above her little feet, she seemed small and fragile, altogether desirable, and infinitely to be protected to the man beside her on the edge of the sand. Still more so when she waxed ecstatic with delight on the approach of two horses, one bay ridden by a man clothed from head to foot in white burnous, and a led mare as white as the man's raiment.

"Hahmed! O! Hahmed! Stop them!" had she cried, forgetting the ice out of which she had elected to hack herself a pedestal. "Oh, you beauty, you priceless thing!" she continued, when the mare, whinnying gently, rubbed its muzzle on her shoulder; whereupon she took the rein from the servant who had dismounted, and led the beast up and down.

Perfect she stood, the Breeze of the Desert, with her flowing tail high set, her streaming mane, the little ears so close together as to almost touch, her great chest, and dainty hoofs which scarcely deigned to touch the sand.

Bit and bridle she had none, her sole harness consisting of a halter with a leather rein on the right side, and a rug upon her back hardly kept in place by a loose girth. It seemed that she was of the Al Hamsa, which, being translated, means being a direct descendant of one of the five great mares of the time of Mohammed; also she was a two-year-old and playful but not over friendly, therefore was it astounding to see her as she listened to the girl's musical voice, and showed no fretfulness at the touch of a strange hand.

And then there was a quick run, a cry, and a rush of tearing hoofs!

For Jill, in the twinkling of a star, had let fall the enveloping cloak, standing for one second like some exotic bit of statuary in her black billowing satin trousers and infinitesimal coatee over a silver-spangled frothy vest, her great eyes dancing with glee over the face veil. She had swiftly backed a few yards, and before either man or horse had guessed her intention, with a quick run and a full grasp of the great mane had swung herself into the native saddle, and was away over the desert to wherever the horse listed. Neither was there a second lost before the bay was racing after the mare; and Jill, riding with the loose seat of the native, turned and waved hilariously to Hahmed as he tore like the wind beside her, shouting something she could not distinguish in the rush of the air past her face.

Half-frightened, half-maddened by her own tremendous pace, the Breeze of the Desert laid herself out to beat all speed records.

Mile after mile flew under her dainty feet, whilst Jill by little cries urged her still faster yet, the all-enduring bay keeping alongside without any apparent effort, until at last the Arab, leaning forward, struck the mare lightly upon the left side of the neck, whereupon without slackening speed she turned instinctively in that direction, turning a little each time she felt the light touch, until Jill at last perceived the outline of the oasis and the figure of the Arab servant standing with folded arms awaiting the return of his beloved horses or not, as should be the will of Allah; being, however, shaken from his native calm when this woman when some hundreds of yards from him in a straight line, without stopping the speed of the racing horse, suddenly slipped from the saddle, remaining upon her feet without a tremor, whilst the "Breeze" stopped of her own free-will within a few feet of her attendant.

"And our master whom Allah protect," as recounted the native afterwards to an astonished, almost unbelieving bevy of listeners, "bringing his horse in a circle, suddenly picked up that woman rider. Yea! I tell thee, thou disbelieving son of a different coloured horse, a woman-rider, even she for whom the palace has been built; and swinging her across the saddle so that her feet, as small as thine are big, thou grandchild of a reptile with poisonous tongue, as I say her little feet hung down on one side, and her head, and may Allah protect me from the wrath of my master if I say that it was as the sun in all its glory, hanging down on the other, dashed into the night with her, but _where_ it is not meet for me to know."

The "where," as it happened, being Jill's palace, in which, lying full length upon a white divan, with a small brazier of sweet smelling incense sending up spirals of blue haze around her dishevelled head, and an ivory tray laden with coffee and sweetmeats at her side, she promised never to run the risk of getting lost in the desert again, on condition that the Breeze of the Desert became her own property, and that she could ride untroubled whenever and wherever she liked; cheerfully promising also to have made a habit, or rather riding-dress, which, would combine the utility of the West with the protective covering properties of the East. After which she got to her feet, standing the very essence of youth and strength in the soft glow of the lamps, smiled into the Arab's stern face with a look in the great eyes which caused his mouth to tighten like a steel trap, clapped her hands and disappeared through a curtain-shrouded door without even looking back.

CHAPTER XXVIII

The recounting of which true episode has taken me from the evening when the sun had just slipped behind the edge of sand.

Jill sat motionless in a corner of her beautiful room, with a pucker of dissatisfaction on her forehead.

Jill, the girl who only a few moons back had taken the reins of her life into her own hands, and had tangled them into a knot which her henna-tipped fingers seemed unable to unravel. English books, magazines, papers lay on tables, the latest music was stacked on a grand piano, great flowering plants filling the air with heavy scent stood in every corner, the pearls around her neck were worth a king's ransom, the sweetmeats on a filigree stand looked like uncut jewels; in fact everything a woman could want was there, and yet not enough to erase the tiny pucker.

Months ago she had played for her freedom and lost.

This exquisite building had been built for her, horses were hers, and camels; jewels were literally flung at her feet.

She clapped her hands and soft-footed natives ran to do her bidding, flowers and fruit came daily from the oasis, sweetmeats and books each day from the nearest city. Her smallest whim, even to the mere pa.s.sing of a shadow of a wish, was fulfilled, and yet------

A few months ago her mocking words had swung to the silken curtains of her chamber, and since then she had been alone.

Verily, there were no restrictions and no barriers, but the yellow sand stretched away to the East and away to the West, and obedience in the oasis was bred from love and her twin sister fear.

True, the girl had but to bid the Arab to her presence and the curtain would swing back.

But upon the threshold he would stand, or upon the floor he would seat himself, motionless, with a face as expressionless as stone.

By no movement, word or sign, could she find out if she was any more to him than the wooden beads which ceaselessly pa.s.sed between his fingers.

Nothing showed her if he remembered the first night, when for a moment the man had broken through the inherited reserve of centuries. Had it been merely the East clamouring for the out-of-reach, longed-for West?

Perhaps! Just a pa.s.sing moment, as quickly forgotten, and against which forgetfulness the woman in her rebelled.

It had even come to her to lie awake during the night following the days in which the man had been away from his beloved oasis. The swift rush of naked feet, taking her as swiftly to the roof, where peeping between the carved marble she would look upon a distant scene, which could well have ill.u.s.trated some Eastern fable.

Either the great camel would stalk slowly, solemnly out of the night, kneeling at a word; or a pure bred Arabian horse would rush swiftly through the palm belt, its speed unchecked as its master threw himself from the saddle.

She could even distinguish a murmured conversation between the eunuch and his master, guessing that he was inquiring as to her welfare, and issuing orders for her comfort, before pa.s.sing out of sight to his own dwelling, she imagined, though she would rather have died than have asked one question of those around her.

She craved for the nights when he would send to inquire if she would ride, often from sheer contrariness denying herself the exercise she longed for.

In fact, feeling the mystery of love germinating within her, she showed herself rebellious and contrary, and infinitely sweet, surpa.s.sing in all things the ways of women; who, since the beginning of all time, have plagued the man into whose keeping their heart is slowly but surely slipping.

And as the shadows fell, so did the pucker of discontent deepen, and a tiny blue-grey marmoset sprang to the top of the piano, chattering shrilly, when a book swished viciously across the floor, and a diminutive gazelle, standing on reed-pipe legs, blinked its soft eyes, and whisked its apology of a tail when a henna-tipped finger tapped its soft nose over sharply, before the girl clapped her hands to summon her body-woman, who, as silently as a wraith, slipped into the room.