The time passed on; the storm had risen afresh; the violence of thegusts blew yellow sheets of sand whirling over the plains. Alone, withthe dead one across his knees, Cecil sat motionless as though turned tostone. His eyes were dry and fixed; but ever and again a great, tearlesssob shook him from head to foot. The only life that linked him withthe past, the only love that had suffered all things for his sake,were gone, crushed out as though they never had been, like some insecttrodden in the soil.
He had lost all consciousness, all memory, save of that lifeless thingwhich lay across his knees, like a felled tree, like a broken log, withthe glimmer of the tempestuous day so chill and white upon the upturnedface.
He was alone on earth; and the solitudes around him were not moredesolate than his own fate.
He was like a man numbed and stupefied by intense cold; his veins seemedstagnant, and his sight could only see those features that became soterribly serene, so fearfully unmoved with the dread calm of death. Yetthe old mechanical instincts of a soldier guided him still; he vaguelyknew that his errand had to be done, must be done, let his heart ache asit would, let him long as he might to lie down by the side of his onlyfriend, and leave the torture of life to grow still in him also forevermore.
Instinctively, he moved to carry out the duty trusted to him. He lookedeast and west, north and south; there was nothing in sight that couldbring him aid; there were only the dust clouds hurled in billows hitherand thither by the bitter winds still blowing from the sea. All thatcould be done had to be done by himself alone. His own safety hung onthe swiftness of his flight; for aught he knew, at every moment, outof the mist and the driven sheets of sand there might rush the deserthorses of his foes. But this memory was not with him; all he thoughtof was that burden stretched across his limbs, which laid down one hourhere unwatched, would be the prey of the jackal and the vulture. Heraised it reverently in his arms, and with long, laborious effort drewits weight up across the saddle of the charger which stood patientlywaiting by, turning its docile eyes with a plaintive, wondering sadnesson the body of the rider it had loved. Then he mounted himself; and withthe head of his lost comrade borne up upon his arm, and rested gently onhis breast, he rode westward over the great plain to where his missionlay.
The horse paced slowly beneath the double load of dead and living; hewould not urge the creature faster on; every movement that shookthe drooping limbs, or jarred the repose of that last sleep, seemeddesecration. He passed the place where his own horse was stretched; thevultures were already there. He shuddered; and then pressed faster on,as though the beasts and birds of prey would rob him of his burden erehe could give it sanctuary. And so he rode, mile after mile, over thebarren land, with no companion save the dead.
The winds blew fiercely in his teeth; the sand was in his eyes and hair;the way was long, and weary, and sown thick with danger; but he knew ofnothing, felt and saw nothing save that one familiar face so strangelychanged and transfigured by that glory with which death had touched it.