Part 45 (1/2)

Every vestige of colour left Millicent's face. She felt sick. ”And you have been to him? You touched him!”

”Of course. I wished to judge for myself. There is no doubt about it.”

”M-i-c-h-a-e-l!” The word was a long-drawn-out expression of horror.

A wave of inexpressible terror and disgust overwhelmed Millicent; she could scarcely speak or move. ”You knew, and yet you went to him. How could you, oh, how could you?”

He scarcely heard her. ”These natives who have never been vaccinated take it very badly. Smallpox is a scourge with all Africans, from the north to the south.”

Millicent's mind was now working furiously. She did not wish to let Michael see how terrified she was, or how angry.

”Go and change,” she said. ”Go at once. Get Abdul to disinfect you--I brought any amount of stuffs.”

”Oh, I'm all right--I'm not afraid. I was with him for a long time last night. If I'm going to take it, the mischief's done.”

Millicent's quick mind travelled. Michael had been with this sick saint the night before. He, Michael, might be a carrier of the disease, even if he were immune from it himself. And she had been fool enough to throw herself into his arms! Oh, what a fool! She might even now be incubating the horrible, loathsome disease. She was soul-sick. Her fear and rage were inseparable. But she must, of course, make a good show.

”Never mind, Mike, about last night. Probably the disease was not at such an infectious stage as it is now--you may not have contracted it.

Take what precautions you can--go quickly and disinfect yourself. Are you really sure it's smallpox?” She said the last words with a shudder. ”Ugh! it's horrible!”

”Yes,” Michael said. ”The spots have appeared on his wrists and at the back of his neck. Abdul knows the beastly disease only too well--the vomiting and the headaches and the fall in the temperature. It appears that he told Abdul that he had been very, very sick for some days before we met him. But malaria might have accounted for the sickness--and the headaches. No one could have diagnosed it until the spots appeared. Abdul's not to blame.”

”What are you going to do?” Millicent said. ”Stick to him? I suppose you will!” she s.h.i.+vered.

”I will isolate his tent. I can't go on and leave him here, if you mean that.”

”Oh, you're crazy! Think of Margaret, if you won't think of yourself!”

”She wouldn't have me do it.”

”Leave one or two of the men behind with him. It's absurd, running such a risk. He will probably die, in any case.”

”When I needed his help I meant to stick to him. When he now needs mine, am I to desert him? You said my goodness was not disinterested.

It was not, but I can't stoop to that.”

”If these Moslems really think he's a saint, they'll nurse him faithfully. I'll pay them what they ask--anything.”

”Money isn't everything, Millicent--surely you know that?”

”It can do a great deal. If you hadn't met him, he'd have died.”

”But I have met him. Doesn't that show that I am entrusted with his welfare?”

”A chance meeting.”

”That absurd word! By chance you mean such a big thing that your mind can't imagine it! You choose to call a link in the Divine Chain chance! the Chance which gives life, the Master of that which is ordained, you mean!”

”You can't nurse him, you can't do anything more for him than see that he has all that he wants. 'The faithful' will carry out your instructions. Do be practical, reasonable.”

”It's no use, Millicent, I can't leave him. I won't.” Michael s.h.i.+vered. ”It's chilly. Let's go and eat our dinner.”