Burning Sands

  CHAPTER XXIII--THE NATURE OF WOMEN

  Kate Bindane had just gone up to her room and was standing there alone,examining herself disapprovingly in the long mirror, when Murielstaggered in, her face white, her knees giving way.

  "Kate!" she cried. "He's gone!"

  She threw herself down on the floor in front of a low arm-chair, andspreading her arms across its seat, buried her face in them.

  Her friend stood perfectly still for a few moments, staring down at herin amazement. She had never before seen Muriel give way to uncontrolledgrief in this manner; and she was frightened by the terrible rasping ofher muffled sobs, and by the convulsive heaving of her shoulders. Shedid not know what to do, and her hands hesitated uncertainly between thewhiskey-bottle standing on a shelf and the smelling-salts upon thedressing-table near to it.

  At last, discarding the stimulants, she knelt down by her friend's side,and put her strong arm around her. The tears had come into her own eyes,and as she patted Muriel's shoulder, she fumbled for her handkerchiefwith her disengaged hand.

  "Hush, hush, my darling!" she whispered. "Tell me what has happened."

  "He's gone," Muriel sobbed. "The camp's gone. I saw the track of hiscamels leading away into the desert."

  She could say no more, and for a considerable time continued herpassionate weeping.

  At length she raised her head. "There are only some bits of paper andthings left," she moaned; and therewith she returned to her bittertears.

  Kate rose to her feet. "I am going to 'phone your father," she said,"and ask him what has happened."

  She gave Muriel an encouraging pat, and hastened into the adjoiningsitting-room, where a telephone was affixed to the wall. A few minuteslater she was speaking to Lord Blair, asking him the reason of Daniel'sdeparture.

  "We've just seen the deserted site of his camp," she said, "and poorMuriel is in floods of tears."

  "Dear, dear!" came the reply. "Poor girl! Tell her Daniel has only goneaway for a short time. I have had to send him to the Oases on business,that's all."

  "Rather sudden, wasn't it?" queried Kate.

  Lord Blair coughed. "Daniel is always very prompt to act, when actionhas to be taken," he said.

  "Didn't he leave any note or message for Muriel?"

  "No, none," was the reply. "He went away in a great hurry. Am I toexpect Muriel back to dinner?"

  "With her eyes bunged up?" exclaimed Kate, impatiently. "Of course not.I'll send her back to you in the morning. Hav'n't you anything to say tocomfort her?"

  There was a pause. "Yes," he replied at length, "tell her I've just seenAda going upstairs with two bandboxes. She says they are newnight-dresses from Maison Duprez."

  Kate uttered a contemptuous grunt. "That's the last thing to tell her!"she exclaimed. "Good-night."

  She slammed down the receiver, and, going back to her bedroom, repeatedto Muriel her father's explanation of Daniel's departure. This broughtsome comfort into the girl's forlorn heart; and a second outburst oftears, which occurred an hour or so later, was due more to a kind ofself-pity, perhaps, than to despair.

  "It's so unkind of him," she cried, "to go off without even sayinggood-bye, or leaving a note."

  "But from what I gather," Kate replied, "he doesn't think you reallycare much about him."

  "Ah, I do, I do," Muriel wailed, wringing her hands.

  "Well, you know," Kate commented, somewhat brutally, "seeing how you'vebeen carrying on this last month, I shouldn't have said myself that youwere really stuck on him."

  "You don't understand," Muriel moaned. "I wanted to be properly engagedto him, but he wouldn't hear of it--I told you at the time. I don'tbelieve he ever wanted to marry me at all," she exclaimed, passionately."I believe he only wanted me to run away with him."

  Suddenly she looked up, with a curious light in her face. "I wonder...."She paused. She recalled the words he had said when he first knew her:"Why don't you break loose?" And then last night he had said: "I shallnever get to the real you until you cut loose from all this." Could itbe that the manner of his going away was meant to be a sort of silentgesture, a beckoning to her to follow?

  She was so absorbed in her thoughts that her tears dried upon her face;and presently Kate was able to induce her to make somewhat more than apretence of tasting the little dinner which had been sent up to them.

  Later in the evening, when Benifett Bindane had come upstairs, and whenMuriel had gone to her own room, Kate told her husband that she wouldsleep that night with her friend.

  "As you wish, my dear," he answered pleasantly. "You must help her toget over this business. She'll soon live it down, I expect."

  Kate looked annoyed. "You needn't be so damned cheerful about it," shesaid. "I sometimes think you haven't got a heart at all."

  He sat down loosely, and stared at her for some moments, as though aboutto make a profound remark.

  "Spit it out," said Kate encouragingly.

  "I was just thinking," he droned, "that I shall probably get Lane as ourGeneral Manager after all."

  She turned upon him. "Oh, you cold-blooded brute! It's always businessfirst with you. I suppose you're hoping he'll never want to come back toCairo."

  "Well," he mused, "he evidently feels that life in the Oases suits himbetter."

  "Ugh!" his wife ejaculated. "I suppose you think he'll be content to bea sort of pasha out there, with his harim of Bedouin women; raking in afat salary from your precious Company, and fleecing the natives to fillyour pockets. It's a pretty picture!"

  _A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY--BURNING SANDS_]

  "Well, it isn't a prettier picture," he answered, "to think of a fineman like that messing about Cairo, wasting his time at dinner partiesand dances on a wretched Foreign Office pittance."

  Kate did not continue the discussion, and it was not long before shewent to her friend's room, where, entering quietly, she found Murielstanding in her nightdress at the western window, her bare arms restingon the high sill, and her gaze fixed upon the obscurity of the desertwhich lay black and desolate under the stars. The window was open, andthe drifting night-wind stirred the mass of her dark hair which fellabout her shoulders.

  She turned quickly as she heard the footstep, and Kate was dismayed atthe pallor of her face.

  "I can't make him out," Muriel said. "I can't make him out. Right outthere somewhere, in that blackness, he is smoking his pipe and strokinghis dogs and yawning himself to sleep. And yet he must know that I'mhere, calling to him and crying to him."

  She stretched out her arms, her fists clenched. "O God!" she muttered,"Let me understand him, let me see what's in his mind."

  Kate drew the curtain across the window, as though she would shut outthe dark menace of the desert, and drew her friend towards the bed.

  "It'll all come out in the wash, old girl," she choked. "You're not theonly woman who finds her man incomprehensible sometimes."

  She looked at Muriel and Muriel at her; and suddenly, like two children,they put their heads each upon the other's shoulder, and sobbed asthough their hearts would break.

  When Muriel returned next morning to the Residency, she went up to herown sitting-room at once; and presently she sent a message down to herfather, who was at work in his study, asking him to come to her as soonas he had a few minutes to spare: nor was it long before he cametripping into the room.

  It was evident that he felt the situation to be somewhat awkward; forhis remarks began on a piping note of jocularity, and so rapidlydescended the scale to one of profound melancholy that Muriel wasreminded of a gramophone running down.

  "Father," she said presently, "I want you to tell me exactly what Danielsaid about me before he left. I suppose he told you that we had had aquarrel."

  Lord Blair seemed puzzled, and he raised his hands in a gestureindicating his lack of grasp of the essential points in Daniel's recenttirade.

  "Yes, he told me about the little tiff; but I really don't know whetherI apprehend his meaning exactly. He was very
much upset, veryoverwrought. It seems, if I have understood him aright, that he findsfault with you because you are rather--what shall I say?--rather givento the superficialities of our civilization. He would prefer you _inpuris naturalibus_"--he corrected himself--"that is to saymetaphorically speaking. He said that 'the fashionable world,' as hecalled it, filled him with gloom, gave him the ... ah ... hump, I thinkhe said; and he was disappointed to find that you associated yourself sofully with the frivolities of society, and were so foreign to theliberties, the sincerities, of more primitive conditions. I don't knowwhether I am making myself clear."

  "Perfectly," said Muriel. "I suppose he would have preferred to see meturning head over heels in the desert _in puris_ ...what-you-said-_ibus_."

  "I take it," Lord Blair explained, "that he was referring to yourmental, not your physical attitude."

  "Oh, quite so," replied Muriel; and she burst out laughing, but herlaughter was very close to tears.

  Lord Blair patted her cheek. "Ah, Muriel," he said, his manner againbecoming serious, "you mustn't lose Daniel. I would rather that he wereyour husband than any man living."

  "But I don't think he wants to be my husband, or anybody's husband," shereplied.

  "He is deeply in love with you," her father told her.

  "That's another matter," said she; and Lord Blair glanced at her inperplexity.

  He was not altogether sorry that events had taken their present course;for it seemed to him that this temporary disunion would have a salutaryeffect on his daughter's character. He could see clearly the faults ofwhich Daniel complained; and he could not help thinking that thisforceful show of disgust on her lover's part would be instrumental inarousing her to the more serious things of life. It would be a lesson toher which would serve to fit her to be the wife of a man of genuinesincerity.

  Moreover, in the case of Daniel, his sudden return to El Hamran, withhis heart left behind him here at the Residency, would probably dispel,once and for all, that haunting dream of his desert paradise whichotherwise would always cause him to be restless in Cairo. This time, ifhe were made of flesh and blood, he would find the desert intolerable,and in a few weeks he would probably be lured back to civilization bythe call of his manhood.

  That Daniel should marry Muriel, and take up his permanent position atthe Residency, was his most ardent hope; and as the present events hadoccurred he had fitted them each into place in his growing plan ofaction.

  In brief, his scheme was as follows. At the end of the month he himselfwould have to go up to the Sudan on his annual tour of inspection; andabout the same time the Bindanes would be going to the Oases. He hadexpected to take his daughter with him to the Sudan, but, instead, hewould send her with the Bindanes, and thus she would be in a position toeffect a reconciliation with Daniel on his own ground, so to speak.Hardy Muriel on camel-back in the desert would be more likely to win himthan dainty Muriel in the ballroom; and Lord Blair, priding himself onhis strategy, had almost come to believe that his sending Daniel off toEl Hamran had been a definite move in his game, made with the object ofbringing about this romantic meeting in the desert.

  He rubbed his hands together now as he prepared to tell Muriel of hisplan, so far as she ought to know it.

  "Now, my dear," he said to her, "you must not fret. I have a littlescheme in my mind, of which I think you will approve. I am going to tryto arrange for you to go out to the Oases with our friends; and thus youwill be able to see Daniel for a day or two, and, if so you wish, youwill be able to make it up with him."

  He stood back from her, and beamed upon her, his hands raised as thoughhe were beating time to a visionary orchestra. But as he saw theexpression in her eyes his face fell, and his hands sank to his side. Helooked at her in dismay, and the thought came into his mind that she wasundoubtedly a Blair; for, like all the Blairs in a temper, she resembleda beautiful monkey. Her eyebrows were knitted, her eyes were round andwide open, her lips were pursed, and her jaw was set. He had neverrealized before how very attractive she was.

  "Do you suppose," she said, slowly and distinctly, "that I shall againput myself in a position to be snubbed? Do you think I would lowermyself to go out to him in the desert and ask his forgiveness? No! If hewants me he can come back and ask _my_ forgiveness."

  He watched her anxiously as she turned haughtily away. Then he shruggedhis shoulders. "You both seem determined to lose one another," heremarked; and presently, like a man who has no time to waste, he steppedback to the door and opened it.

  "I never want to see him again," said Muriel over her shoulder.

  Lord Blair did not answer, but, shutting the door with a snap, left herto her bitter reflections.

  Five minutes later a message was brought up from Lady Smith-Evered, whohad called to consult her in regard to a proposed picnic; and Murieltherefore went downstairs to the drawing-room. There she found herimposing visitor seated upon the sofa behind a great bunch of pinkpeonies which stood in a vase upon a low table. She had evidently beenwalking in the hot sun, and her face, in spite of its powder, was itselfextraordinarily suggestive of a pink peony in full bloom, so that,appearing as it seemed to do from amongst these showy flowers, it waslike a burlesque of caricature of the works of nature.

  "Good morning, my dear: forgive my getting up," she said to Muriel."Your sofa is lower than I expected."

  Muriel sat down beside her. "I think Daniel Lane must have broken thesprings," she answered. "He always used to fling himself into thatcorner when he had a fit of laziness."

  Lady Smith-Evered glanced at her. "Why d'you say he 'used to'? Doesn'the do it now?"

  "He's gone," said Muriel. "Didn't you know?"

  "Gone?"

  Muriel told her how Lord Blair had sent him off on a mission to theOases. Her voice betrayed no trace of feeling as she explained away hissudden departure.

  "Well, my dear," said Lady Smith-Evered, "I know you and he quite likeeach other, but I must say I can't understand it. I'm relieved to hearhe has gone. I don't trust him in regard to women."

  Muriel uttered a short laugh. "One might say the same of any man," shereplied.

  Lady Smith-Evered looked at her curiously. "I wonder what's the realreason of his being sent off so suddenly," she remarked, a craftyexpression coming into her face. "His going on a mission is probablyonly eyewash."

  Muriel shrank before her prying eyes, and a feeling of anger wasawakened in her; but she only shrugged her shoulders.

  "I wonder if your father has been wise enough just to dismiss him inthis way," Lady Smith-Evered mused. "I'll find out: yes, I'll get to thebottom of it."

  The expression of inquisitive, self-complacent cunning in the woman'sface, and her actual blindness to the real facts of the matter, combinedto arouse in Muriel an uncontrollable hostility.

  "Oh, you needn't bother to find out," she said. "You wouldn't understandthe real reason."

  "Ah, then there _is_ a secret: I thought as much," she replied, with aknowing smile. "There's always a secret about the movements of such menas Mr. Lane."

  "Yes," answered Muriel, suddenly seeing red, as the saying is; "absolutefrankness and absolute honesty must always seem fishy to those who can'tconceive what such things mean. If you want to know, Daniel Lane hasgone away because he was fed up with the rotten life we lead here inCairo. The sham of it all sickened him. He has gone away to escape fromthe pretences and the hatefulness and the pettiness of people like youand me. He's gone to get some fresh air: he was being suffocated here."

  Lady Smith-Evered stared at her in blank astonishment, and the pinknessof her face turned to a deeper red. "Oh, that's what he has told you, isit?" she scoffed. "He must think you very gullible."

  Muriel rose from the sofa, and faced her visitor with blazing eyes. "Isaid you wouldn't be able to understand," she exclaimed. "There's nomystery about it: he was just frankly disgusted, and off he went. Buthe'll come back one day, when the hot weather begins and we've all gonehome. Then he and Father will be able to get on with thei
r work, withEngland's work, without being distracted by fussy little interruptionsfrom women like you and me...."

  Lady Smith-Evered managed to raise herself with some dignity from thesofa. "I wanted to speak to you about plans," she said, stiffly; "butthat can wait now till another day. I don't know what is the matter withyou, but I know we shall quarrel if I remain. I don't care to be spokento as you are speaking to me."

  Her large bosom was heaving threateningly, and Muriel was abashed.

  "I'm sorry," she answered, the light of battle dying in her eyes.

  Lady Smith-Evered took her departure without many more words, andthereon Muriel went directly up to her room again, her heart achingwithin her. Here at the open window she stood staring out across thelawn to the translucent Nile. A native boat, with huge bellying sails,was making its way slowly up stream; and she could hear the wailing songof the blue-gowned youth at the rudder. Away in the distance thePyramids marked the edge of the placid desert, now bathed in sunlight;and above, the cloudless sky stretched in tranquil splendour.

  She was ashamed of herself, ashamed of her inconsistency. Her mind wasconfused, but in its confusion she was conscious of one clear thought,namely that Daniel would have rebuked her for her show of temper. "Lookaway over there at the quiet desert," he would have said. "Do you seehow it is smiling at you for your angry thought and for that flush inyour face? You won't get at the root of things by raising your littlevoice in protest."

  "O Daniel, Daniel," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "yououghtn't to have left me here alone. You oughtn't, you oughtn't."

  And some time later, still staring out of the window, she said: "Did yougo away because you wanted me to follow you? Must I humiliate myself andcome to you? O Daniel, my darling, how I hate you!"