Part 44 (2/2)
Michael did not answer. He called Ha.s.san. ”We are ready, Ha.s.san,” he said.
In a short time they were off.
Before mounting her camel Millicent said: ”Thank you, Michael. I don't deserve your kindness.”
On their homeward journey Michael's heart held many a prayer. He was no longer merely to turn this woman out of his thoughts, to thrust her behind him, a thing of Satan. He was to help her. He was to help her until such a time as she could help herself. He was to bring her mind to the consciousness of the truth. He was to reveal to her, by his prayers, what Akhnaton taught his people--that G.o.d is happiness, G.o.d is beauty, G.o.d is Love.
CHAPTER VI
It was close upon sundown when Michael and Millicent got back to the camp. Abdul had come a little way to meet them. To an observant eye, the calm of his Eastern countenance showed some anxiety. Millicent did not see it. Michael was riding on ahead when Abdul met him. Abdul turned his mule and rode by his master's side.
”You have something to tell me, Abdul?”
”_Aiwah_, Effendi, I have something to tell you.”
They increased the s.p.a.ce between themselves and the camels which were following them in Indian file. Abdul spoke in Arabic, as he always did to his master. When he had confided his secret to Michael he lapsed into silence. The Effendi looked very grave. The news was far from pleasant.
”You need not tell Madam,” Michael said. ”Not until you are quite sure, Abdul. It will only alarm her.”
”_Aiwah_, Effendi, I gave it to your ears alone.”
”How is he?” Michael referred to the saint.
”His temperature has fallen--head no longer aches. That is always the case.”
”You have done all that is necessary?”
”All I could do, Effendi. Madam has good medicines, praise be to Allah! We can be hopeful.”
They rode on to the camp in silence. Michael's thoughts were busy.
What would Millicent say? Would she be afraid? The idea was not pleasant.
When they had dismounted Michael went at once to see the saint and Millicent hurried off to her tent to change her dusty garments for daintier ones. She was still penitent and half-ashamed. Who knows but that Michael's efforts to help her were already beginning to bear fruit? If thoughts can purify, Millicent's heart should have been as fair as a white lotus flower whose roots are in the mud. Michael's thoughts had baptized it.
When she had tidied up and was beautifully fresh in her snow-white muslin frock, she went outside and waited for the dinner-gong to sound.
Even that item of civilization had not been forgotten--it is true it was only a drum, an earthen _darabukkeh_, but it filled its purpose well. Its dull thud, thud, had scarcely ceased vibrating the air when Michael appeared. As he came towards her, Millicent went to meet him.
He had not yet changed his day clothes.
”Don't come near me!” he called out. ”Not any further.”
”Why not?” Millicent said. ”What's the matter? Are you stricken with the plague?” She spoke laughingly.
Michael stopped within a few feet of her. ”Perhaps I am stricken with the smallpox,” he said. ”The saint has got it--it may be of a very malignant order. We don't know.”
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