CHAPTER XIII--THE NEW LIFE
Perched on the make-shift saddle of a baggage-camel at an apparentlybreak-neck height above the ground, Muriel still had the feeling thatshe was playing an elaborate game as she jogged along beside Daniel'staller and more magnificent beast, with its gaily coloured tassels andtrappings, and its rich white sheepskin upon which its rider was seated.Behind them rode a black-bearded son of the desert, with a white_bernous_ over his head, silver-mounted pistols stuck into his sash, anda rifle slung over his shoulders. Daniel was holding her guiding-rope,and her two hands were therefore free, as she bounced up and down, tocling on to the sides of the saddle--a circumstance for which she wasgrateful, although it caused her to feel like a captive being led intoslavery.
At the gate of the hotel her companion's camel knelt at a word from him,and he dismounted; but in her own case her less accustomed mount was notso easily induced to go down on its knees, and startled by its antics,she recklessly slid from the saddle and hung for a moment at its side,her legs kicking about in the air. A moment later she tumbled intoDaniel's arms, and presently found herself deposited, like a piece ofbaggage, upon the doorstep, in front of Mrs. Bindane, who happened to bestanding in the entrance bullying the hall porter.
"Hullo," said Kate, casually, "the washing's come home."
Muriel felt herself all over carefully, as though to make sure that heranatomy was still reasonably complete, and then, linking her arm in thatof her friend, described to her the day's strenuous events; whileDaniel, feeling that his presence was not required during theseconfidences, went over to his attendant to give him his instructions.
"My dear," said Muriel enthusiastically, "we've made a lovely camp outthere. It's like a story out of the _Arabian Nights_."
Kate Bindane looked at her suspiciously. "Well, you be careful of thosestories," she said. "They generally need a lot of expurgation beforethey're fit for family reading. Isn't this the man you told me kept aharim in the desert?"
"So they say," she answered. "Anyway he's evidently given it up."
"He'll soon collect another," her friend replied. "I expect that's theGrand Chief Eunuch he's talking to now."
"Did you get my note?" asked Muriel, anxious to change the subject.
"Yes," she smiled, "and your esteemed orders received the promptattention of our Mr. Bindane, who 'phoned your papa, and ordered thecar, and made himself quite useful."
After the tragic death of Rupert Helsingham, four weeks ago, KateBindane had taken a gloomy aversion to their steamer, and had persuadedher husband to get rid of it, and to come out to this hotel on the edgeof the desert. Muriel had, on more than one occasion, spent the nighthere with them in their comfortable suite of rooms; and now as she said"good-bye," she made arrangements for future meetings and visits, whileDaniel, in a spasm of hospitality, suggested that they should make useof his camp as an occasional halting-place.
"During the day, while I'm at work in Cairo," he said, "you can make useof my tents. I'll tell my servant to look after you."
Kate Bindane laughed. "O, come now," she answered, "that's driving yourbirds right over my gun. It makes shooting too easy."
Daniel was perplexed. "What d'you mean?" he asked, as he seated himselfbeside Muriel in the car.
"Well," said Mrs. Bindane, "you've got the reputation of being a bitshort with your fellow men; but to say you'll be glad to entertain usprovided that you yourself are not there is the limit."
Muriel turned to Daniel. "She's only joking," she assured him; "that'sher way."
Kate uttered an exclamation. "Oh, you little swine!" she said to Muriel."You're on _his_ side now!"
"No, I'm not," Muriel protested, hastily, and the colour came into herface.
Daniel looked from one to the other. "I don't know what you're talkingabout," he said. "I'm all at sea."
The car moved away, and Muriel sat back in her corner luxuriously. Shewas very tired, and her feet ached. She was happy to find that she nolonger felt awkward in this man's presence, and that her feminineintuition had not deserted her, for she seemed to have learned the trickof managing him. It was only necessary to make herself useful to him, toroll her sleeves up and show a little muscle, and his antagonismevaporated. He was prehistoric--that was all; and yet she could notassociate the idea of brutality with him. No, she had not quiteclassified him; but at any rate she realized that she had probably beenwrong in regarding him as being contemptuous of her sex. He was onlycontemptuous of uselessness.
She glanced at him as he sat in silence by her side, and she noticedthat his expression had become grave, and even sad.
"What's the matter?" she asked. "You look unhappy."
He aroused himself, and smiled; but his eyes were troubled.
"Yes, I feel a bit blue," he said. "I suppose it's the thought of my newjob."
"I'm rather surprised," she commented, "that you have taken it on. Whydid you?"
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I thought it was my duty," he said."You see I happen to speak Arabic as fluently as I speak English, andI've made a study of the native mind. I understand these fellows andthey understand me; and Egypt just now is craving for understanding."
"You've got a lot to live up to," she told him. "My father thinks youare going to be the saving of the country. I'm always hearing yourpraises sung."
He looked gravely at her. "You call to my mind," he said, "the prayer ofAbu-Bakr, the first Khalif. When he heard that people were praising him,he used to say something like this: 'O God, Thou knowest me better thanI know myself, and I know myself better than other people know me. Makeme, I pray Thee, better than they suppose, and forgive me what they knownot.'"
Therewith he relapsed into silence once more; and Muriel, feeling thatthere was a sort of momentousness in this hour of his entrance into thepolitical arena, held her peace. There was in her mind a sense of prideat the part she was playing in a great event. She felt that she was, asit were, a sharer in a diplomatic secret; it was almost as though she,too, were serving a great cause. Suddenly the things which made up hersocial life seemed to become insignificant, and her existence took on alarger aspect.
As they drove up to the door of the Residency, she turned to him asthough he were an old friend. "I'm awfully glad my father is going tohave you with him," she said. "I feel a sort of personal interest in itall."
Daniel's reply was interrupted by Lord Blair's appearance on the steps.He had heard the car drive up to the door, and had hastened out to greetthe newcomer.
"Welcome, my dear Daniel," he exclaimed, holding out his arms as thoughhe were going to embrace his friend. "This is splendid, capital!"
The two men shook hands, and as they did so, Lord Blair winced as thoughhis fingers had been crunched in a man-trap. For some minutes thereafterhe held his right hand loosely in his left, bending the joints carefullyto and fro, under the pretence of fiddling with his rings. Even afterthey had entered the drawing-room and Muriel was dispensing the tea, hewas still clenching and unclenching his fist, and bending andstraightening his first finger as though surreptitiously beckoning tosomebody.
Muriel told her father of her morning's work, and described withenthusiasm the camp in the desert.
"I'm very sorry," he answered, turning to Daniel, "very sorry indeed,that you are not going to live here in the house, but I bow to yourwishes. You must consider yourself entirely free; and indeed I know weshall lose you if you are not your own master."
"Oh no," Daniel replied, "I'm quite prepared to follow a routine. I'llwork here all the morning, talking to your native callers, and I'll dothe correspondence at the camp in the evenings."
"That will be admirable," said Lord Blair; and presently, when tea wasover, he led Daniel away to his study.
"And now," he said, when they were seated, "let us discuss the questionof your salary...."
Daniel interrupted him. "Oh, don't bother about that. I'll take whateverthe position carries--I don't suppose it's much, as it's a ForeignOffice job. I
've got a small income of my own, you know; and my tastesare simple. Get me as much as you reasonably can, of course; but don'tworry about it."
Presently Lord Blair spoke of the question of Knighthood, and attemptedto persuade him to reconsider his decision; but Daniel was obdurate, andvery reluctantly his chief abandoned the project.
"Let me follow my own instincts," said Daniel. "From the native point ofview your adviser on Oriental matters does not need that sort of thing."
"Don't you think he does?" asked Lord Blair, rather doubtfully.
"Certainly not. If you'll let me, I shall turn out all the fine Englishoffice furniture from my official room: the desk, and the red leatherchairs, and the pictures. They're all right for a governor, but not forthe--what shall I say?--the court philosopher, as I intend to be. I wantplain bare walls, bare floors with just a rug or two, and a few chairs.No books, or papers, or maps, or calendars, or clocks."
"As you wish, my dear Daniel: I rely on you," said Lord Blair.
"You see," he continued, "what English pro-consuls in the East so oftenlack is the go-between, the man who tries to get at the native soul, soto speak. You, as governor, must represent the might and the justice ofEngland; but I must be the voice saying 'Don't be afraid: we shall notoutrage your religion or your philosophies or your traditions.' Now Ican't be that if I'm sitting at an American desk, with an eyeglass in myeye, and a stenographer tapping away beside me, and a large office clockticking on the wall. I should be so unconvincing. Do you see what Imean?"
"Quite, quite," Lord Blair answered. "I dare say you are right."
His face, however, belied anything of conviction that he attempted toput into the words. He did not want Daniel to orientalize himself to anymarked extent: he wished him to take his place in the English andContinental society of the Residency. He had great ambitions for him,and the idea of training him ultimately to occupy his own exaltedposition was developing rapidly in his mind. He dreaded anything in thenature of eccentricity: he had the characteristic British dislike of thecrank. Yet he could not imagine Daniel as ever becoming unbalanced, fora kind of equilibrium and stability were apparent in all his actions.
On the other hand, the idea of the new Oriental Secretary adopting therole of philosopher appealed to him; he saw the force of it; for hisexperiences in the East had made him realize that if a white man is togain the confidence of a brown race he must be, in both senses of thewords, capable of a brown study.
When Daniel returned to the drawing-room to say "good-bye" to Muriel andto thank her, it was already dark outside, and the room was brilliantlyilluminated by a number of somewhat inadequately shaded electric globes.There were five or six people in the room; and he paused for a moment inthe doorway, wondering whether he would give offence by beating animmediate retreat. He was paying very careful regard to his behaviour,however; and when Muriel called out to him, he was obliged to enter.
"I'm going now," he said to her, approaching the sofa where she wasseated. "I just wanted to say 'thank you.'" He looked neither to rightnor left.
Lady Muriel turned to a very smartly dressed woman who was seated besideher on the sofa, and introduced Daniel. His hands were, at the moment,clasped behind his back, and he bowed to her with great gravity. Sheheld out her hand, but, seeing that he had considered the more formalbow sufficient to the occasion, withdrew it again. He thought thatperhaps he had been stiff, and at once held out his tanned and muscularpaw, but finding that it was too late, thrust it into his coat pocket,at the moment when, for the second time, she offered her fingers. Hesnatched his hand out of his pocket, but simultaneously she withdrewhers again.
Muriel laughed nervously, but Daniel faced the situation frankly.
"I'm sure I don't know whether I'm supposed to shake hands or not," hesaid. "What do people do in society?"
"Which ever you like," the lady murmured, with a titter of laughter.
"That's no good," he answered, "unless you do what the other fellow'sgoing to do. Anyway," he added, bending forward and very deliberatelytaking hold of her irresolute hand, "how d'you do?"
He glanced about him, and observed that the others were watching himwith mild amusement. Near him was Sir Frank Lestrange, the FirstSecretary, whom he had met before--a fair-haired, clean-shaven man ofsome forty years of age, whose rigid formality seemed incapable ofdisturbance. Daniel shook him warmly by the hand, but for all theimpression he made he might have been greeting a tailor's dummy.
Near the window he saw Lady Smith-Evered, talking to a pale youngGuardsman, who appeared to be in immediate need of a tonic. He went overto her, and made his salutations with cordiality, for a year ago he hadmade her acquaintance at the Residency, and he had a vague recollectionthat she had taken offence at something or other he had said. He heldout his hand, but once more his pocket became its sudden place of refugeas she bowed with all the stiffness that her undulating figurepermitted, and, with no more than a glance in his direction, turned tocontinue her conversation with the Guardsman.
In another part of the room an elderly man with sleek, grey hair wastalking to a heavy matron whose respectable cloth dress looked as thoughit had been made for her by a builder of club-room furniture. Danielthought he recognized the man, and took a few steps towards him, but,deciding that he was mistaken, turned on his heel and, narrowly avoidinga collision with a small table, returned to Muriel.
The curious thing was that though these situations were embarrassing, hedid not appear awkward. Muriel observed this remarkable fact, andwondered at it. He was certainly out of place in a drawing-room, shethought, but he was not therefore out of countenance; and his_sang-froid_ seemed to deserve a more friendly treatment than it wasreceiving. She therefore got up as he approached her, and in a veryaudible voice asked him if he would let her help him to arrange hisofficial quarters on the morrow.
He thanked her, and then, lowering his voice, asked her if she couldexplain Lady Smith-Evered's very marked hostility.
"Why, don't you know?" Muriel whispered. "She told me all about it: shesaid you had run down the Army once when you were talking to her lastyear."
"Nonsense," said Daniel, "I'm sure I never did."
Muriel nodded. "Yes, you did. She said you spoke of the officers of herpet regiment as men who looked as though they'd been through the ranks."
"But I meant that as a compliment," he answered. "I meant they looked asthough they weren't afraid of hard work. Had she any other complaints?"
"No, I think that was her only grievance."
Before she could stop him, he turned and walked straight across the roomto Lady Smith-Evered, and came to a halt immediately in front of her.
"I was just asking Lady Muriel how I had offended you," he said, withdisconcerting directness; "and she tells me it was because you thought Ihad disparaged some of our soldier friends."
The General's lady flushed. He saw the red glow creep up from her neckto her face, under the thick powder, and her eyes gleamed menacingly;but she only inclined her head.
"I want to apologize," he went on. "I'm most awfully sorry: my remarkswere stupid, and I think I must have been trying to say somethingbright. Will you please forgive me?"
The flush deepened. "I'm glad you apologize," she said, and she glancedat the Guardsman beside her, as though to bid him take notice of whatshe supposed to be the discomfiture of the offender.
"I'm very glad that you accept my apology," he said, and with a bow heleft her.
"What on earth did you say?" asked Muriel, when he had returned to her.
"I apologized," he answered, quietly.
"Ate humble pie?" she queried, with a touch of disdain.
"I had hurt her feelings: I'm always sorry to annoy anybody," hereplied.
"Well," she remarked, "I think you've rather annoyed _me_ now, byclimbing down like that." She did not feel that humility suited him, andshe was conscious of a sense of disappointment.
"My good girl," he whispered, "you've got a lot to learn from thephilosop
hers. You must let me put you through a course of reading."
Her disappointment flamed into anger at his words, and she respondedcoldly to his adieux. When he had left the room she sat down once moreupon the sofa, and in the few moments of silence which followed, sheexperienced a variety of sensations. She felt as though he were theschoolmaster again who had scolded her; she felt abashed and did notknow why; she felt angry with him, and, after their happy hourstogether, her displeasure fell like a destructive hand upon the day'sedifice; she felt that they belonged to different worlds, and that itwas hopeless to attempt to understand him; she felt that she was rightand he was wrong, and yet there was a doubt at the back of her mind asto whether the opposite might not somehow be the case.