Part 70 (2/2)

He had gone away in a great hurry, and had left some of the settling of his papers and the packing of his _antikas_ which were in the hut, in charge of the Effendi King. When Michael questioned him if the _Sitt_, his sister, had remained with him until he left the Valley, the _gaphir_ appeared uncertain; he, personally, had not seen the _Sitt_, but then he had only come to take up his job the day before Mistrr Lampton had gone away; the _Sitt_ might have been there--he did not know.

As the dignified personage seemed to be disinclined to volunteer any information, and he was unable to give Michael a satisfactory answer to the questions he asked him, there was nothing else to do but to let him return to his meditations. Michael supposed that there were native mounted police in the Valley, whom the man could call to his a.s.sistance if any trouble arose; they would appear from some sheltered fold in the hills in answer to his signal.

Down the Valley of Death, in which the flames of the inferno seemed to have licked and scorched the dry air ever since the world was created, Michael rode with Abdul at his side. He had turned his back on the hut, for the place thereof knew him no more. Freddy and Margaret had left it; it was as though their presence there had never been. He knew that he had been foolish to hope to find either Freddy or Margaret in the Valley; it was far too late in the season and too hot for any excavating work in Egypt. This he had been conscious of, but in his heart he felt the urging necessity of going to the Valley and proving the fact with his own eyes. Perhaps there was hidden in the back of his mind a hope that some message had been left there for him, that Freddy would have known that even if it was midsummer before his journey was accomplished, he would return there as soon as he could; something would draw him to the scene of their united labour and happiness.

But Freddy's practical mind had not thought of any such folly; he had left the Valley to the sun by day and the stars by night, and had gone like the swallows to a cooler and greener land.

Michael was compelled to spend that night at Luxor. His urgent desire was to reach Cairo as quickly as possible and discover if the Iretons knew anything of Freddy and Margaret. They were now his one hope. In Luxor the fine European hotels were closed, so he found accommodation in the house of one of Abdul's friends, a clean, well-managed native inn. Luxor in May was without one blot or blemish of foreign life.

The next day he travelled by train to Cairo. The new moon was just appearing in the evening sky when he found himself nearing the Iretons'

ancient Mameluke mansion. With the absence of all tourists and European life, the mediaeval city seemed to Michael so Biblical that he would not have been astonished if he had come across the city magistrates, sitting apart in conclave to hear the witnesses of the new moon's appearance and settle the time. He could picture the scientific men in their midst, making their astronomical calculations, and judging whether the testimonies agreed with their calculations. If they did, the president of the a.s.sembly proclaimed the new moon by the sound of a trumpet, and set open the gate of Nicanor, the great eastern brazen gate of the temple.

But instead of the trumpet proclaiming the new moon, Michael heard the sonorous cries of the _mueddin_, calling out the hour of Moslem prayer from the galleries round the tall minarets, which rose from the city like the lotus-headed columns of ancient Egypt. All the large mosques in Cairo are open from daybreak until two hours after sunset. The great university-mosque of el-Azhar would, Michael knew, remain open all night, all but one small portion, the princ.i.p.al place of prayer.

When he reached the Iretons' house, he rang the bell at the door of the outer courtyard. The Nubian who was stretched out on the mastaba behind it did not trouble to rouse himself. Let the fool ring--surely everyone knew that his master and mistress were not living in the city in this weather, when they had a beautiful mansion in the cool oasis to go to?

Michael rang again, but even as he rang his heart was beginning to sink; he knew that no servant would have kept a guest waiting behind the big door if his master was at home; it was his one and only duty to guard it and admit visitors. The second time he rang, he did it so emphatically that the noise vibrated through the courtyard.

A moment later Michael heard a movement. The bar was lifted from its iron hooks, the door was grudgingly opened, and a black face, with thick lips and goggle eyes, was thrust out. In a great many more words than were necessary the Nubian told the anxious Michael that his master and mistress were away from home; they were in the country; the house was closed and would not be opened until October.

When Michael urged him for more particulars, as to the precise address of his master, the effusive Nubian became as close as a sphinx. His duty to his master forbade him giving any information to strangers at the gate; he only retained the post because he could be trusted.

As Michael looked into the deserted courtyard, its sense of romantic isolation was as affecting as the desolation of the Valley had been.

It seemed to him as if all his friends were dead, as if he was the sole survivor of his generation and civilization. The native city, bathed in the mystery of the falling night and the secrets of its great age, lay behind him. It, too, was a world which had outlived its civilization, a relic of the Middle Ages, as lonely as his own soul.

Mechanically he bade the Nubian good-night; the half-piastre which he dropped into the pink palm of his black hand brought down blessings on his unbelieving head.

He wandered aimlessly on. He was very tired and absolutely friendless; he had no place or part in the city, whose arteries were throbbing with the prayers and praise of an infinite variety of Oriental peoples, peoples whose countries were separated by oceans and continents, joined in one vast brotherhood in Islam. He felt miserably alone, a homeless and friendless alien.

At the hour which follows sundown Egypt has always new secrets to reveal. On this night of the new moon, the late afterglow of the summer sun spread an opal haze, flame-tinted and milky, over the sin-soiled city of the Caliphs. It descended from the heavens like a veil of righteousness.

Michael had no desire to return to his hotel. He did not know what to do; the absence of the Iretons from Cairo had shattered his last hope.

Surely it was ordained? He was to realize that he was reaping the punishment he deserved for his weakness and folly. It was obvious to his tired nerves and hypercritical senses that Margaret had purposely returned to England without leaving any indication of her destination.

He would go to Cook's post-office the next morning; that was his last forlorn hope. If there was no letter awaiting him there, he would take his dismissal as final. It had been he himself who had insisted that Margaret should consider herself free.

He knew Freddy's English address, but dared he write to him? He had ignored all his letters and had gone back to England without making any effort to communicate with him. This was certainly his dismissal. And if Margaret had gone also without leaving one word of comfort for him, he must draw the same conclusion from her silence.

Tired out with walking through the narrow streets, he stood on the steps of a small mosque, whose doors were closed. He must think over what he ought to do. As his eyes rested on the Eastern scene before him, a sudden vision of his old friend at el-Azhar came to him. The university-mosque would not be closed, its gate would open and receive him into the Perfection of Peace.

For a few moments the desire to throw himself into the arms of Islam overwhelmed him; it was the way of peace, the way of forgetfulness, the way of self-surrender.

He remembered Abdul's teachings, and how he had often said, ”A sort of death comes over the first life, and this state is signified by the word Islam, for Islam brings about death of the pa.s.sions of the flesh and gives new life to us. This is the true regeneration, and the word of G.o.d must be revealed to the person who reaches this stage. This stage is termed 'the meeting of G.o.d.'”

Michael imagined that he would find that stage if he went to his old friend at el-Azhar, if he went humbly and asked him to lead him into the way of peace, if he went that very night and confessed to him his own failure to reach the stage which is enjoyed by all devout Moslems.

The burning fire which is Islam, the fire which consumes all low desires and gives to men that love for G.o.d which knows no bounds, would that be his state, if he surrendered himself intellectually and spiritually to the laws and the teachings of the Koran?

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