Part 18 (1/2)

He was aroused from his reverie by the sound of horses' hoofs, and, looking up, he saw a man and two women approaching him at a fast trot.

Behind them were the Pyramids, and in the far distance the minarets and domes of the great city rose into the splendour of the sunlight from above the opalescent mist of the morning, backed by the shadows of the eastern hills. The air now in the first days of December was cool and sharp; and there was a sparkle in the suns.h.i.+ne which only this time of day enjoys.

The picture was exquisite, and for a moment his eyes rested upon it entranced. Then he turned his attention to the three figures coming towards him, and, with sudden excitement, he recognized the foremost of the three as Lady Muriel.

She reined in her horse and waved her hand. ”I guessed it was you,” she cried.

Without waiting for his camel to kneel, Daniel slid from the high saddle and dropped to the ground.

”Why, what are you doing out here at this time of day?” he asked her, as, leading his camel behind him, he hastened to her side and grasped her hand. ”I'm mighty glad to see you.”

She turned to her companions, Mr. and Mrs. Benifett Bindane, and introduced them to Daniel. She had been spending the night at Mena House Hotel, she explained, where the Bindanes were staying, and the fresh morning air having aroused her before sunrise, she had had an early breakfast and had come out for a canter over the desert.

”I spotted you a long way off,” she said. ”I knew you by your hat, if it is a hat.” Somehow she did not feel so shy of him as at their meeting at the Residency.

”I guess I'm going to shock you all in Cairo with that hat,” he laughed.

”It's an old friend, and old friends are best.”

”Am I an old friend?” she asked.

”Pretty old,” he answered. ”I've known you for four years, you must remember.”

She told him that her father was not expecting his arrival for some days, and that she feared no room had yet been prepared for him.

”But I'm not going to stay in the house,” he answered quickly. ”You didn't think I'd come and live in the town, did you?”

Muriel felt somewhat relieved. Even if the feelings of ease in his society which at the moment she was experiencing were to last, she had no particular wish to have him always about the house, nor present at every meal.

”Well, where are you going to live?” she asked.

He glanced around him. They were standing upon a level area of hard sand, in the shadow of a spur of rock which formed the head of a low ridge. The broken surface of the desert was spread out to their gaze to north, east and west; but the rocks shut off the view towards the south.

The caravan had strayed considerably from the beaten track; and the sand hereabouts was smooth and unmarked, except by their own footprints and by those of the desert larks which were now singing high overhead.

”Where am I going to live?” he repeated, suddenly coming to a decision, in his impulsive way. ”Why right here where we stand. It shall be my home: just where I shook hands with you.”

Muriel glanced at him, wondering whether his words contained any deep significance; but, by his smiling face, she judged that they did not.

He looked about him with interest. ”It couldn't be bettered,” he exclaimed. ”It's a good mile-and-a-half back from the Pyramids, and well out of the way of people. I'll ride in to Mena House on my camel every morning, and take the tram into Cairo from there.”

Mr. Bindane stared at him open-mouthed.

”Rather far away, isn't it?” he commented. ”A bit lonely at nights.”

Daniel laughed. ”I suppose there's something wrong with me,” he answered. ”I'm always happiest alone.”

Kate Bindane picked up her reins. ”I think that's the bird, Benifett, my love,” she remarked, ”in fact the screeching peac.o.c.k.”

Her husband looked blankly at her.

”'The bird',” Kate explained; ”a theatrical term indicating peremptory dismissal.”