Part 35 (1/2)
”Trust!” she scoffed. ”You come to me and whisper to me of your wonderful desert, and the wonderful times we shall have there together; you tell me that I am your mate, your sweetheart; your chosen one: and all the time you are carrying on a liaison with a wretched woman in a back street.”
”Yes,” he answered, ”and, believing that, you decide to have it out with me and then make it up. Oh, you sicken me! If I were to tell you the whole thing were nonsense, you wouldn't believe me. You might even be disappointed. The tale would have been found to have no point: it wouldn't be up to the standard of the stuff you read in your French novels.”
Muriel sat down upon the bench once more, and her hands fell listlessly to her sides. ”I don't think there's any use in talking,” she murmured.
”No, none,” he answered. ”I shall never get to the real you until you cut loose from all this. We belong at present to different worlds. I'm all at sea when I try to look at things from your point of view.”
”Very well, then,” she said. ”Please take me back to the hotel. I shall be late for dinner.”
There was a complete silence between them as they made their way through the trees and along the gravel path towards the strongly-illuminated veranda. Through open doors the lounge could be seen, and here groups of visitors were gathering in readiness for dinner. The chatter of voices and little gusts of laughter came to their ears as they approached; and an elegant young man at the piano was lazily fingering the notes of Georges Hue's haunting _J'ai pleure en reve_.
Daniel paused at the steps of the veranda, but Muriel walked on, and, without turning her head, pa.s.sed into the house. He stood for a moment, after she had gone, staring into the brightly lit room with dazed uncomprehending eyes: then he turned towards the desert, and presently was engulfed in the night.
CHAPTER XXII-THE CALL OF THE DESERT
As soon as Daniel arrived at the Residency next morning he sent a message to Lord Blair, asking that he might see him. He had hardly slept at all during the night, and his haggard face showed the ravages of his emotion.
Lying on his bed upon the rocks above his camp, he had striven to examine the entire situation with an impartial mind; and he would not admit that his philosophy had failed him. His reason strove to a.s.sert itself, and to quell the tumult of his tortured heart; and again and again he reminded himself that there was no such thing as sorrow of the soul. It was only his body that was miserable; and could he but manage to identify himself with the spiritual aspect of his ent.i.ty, the pain of the material world would be forgotten in the serenity of his spirit.
This was a first principle of his philosophy; and yet it seemed now to be utterly beyond his attainment.
”I could not believe in a merciful G.o.d,” he thought to himself, ”unless I believed that He had placed within the reach of every man the means to overcome sorrow. Therefore the means must be at hand, if only I can take hold of them.”
And again: ”My reason, my soul, is unconquerable. It stands above my miserable body. If only I can look at this disaster with the calm eyes of the spirit, I shall get the victory over the wretched torment of my heart.”
In itself the actual quarrel with Muriel had presented no insuperable obstacle to their relations.h.i.+p. Had the trouble been an isolated incident, it would not have been difficult for them to have kissed and made friends; but Daniel realized that the differences between them had been growing for some time, and for many days now it had seemed clear to him that Muriel was too chained in the prison of her cla.s.s ever to understand the freedom of the desert. He despaired of her; yet he loved her so deeply that their estrangement was, beyond all words, terrible to him.
While he waited in his room for Lord Blair's reply, he paced to and fro; and in his weary brain the battle which had raged all night came ever nearer to a definite issue.
”I must get away from it all,” he kept saying to himself. ”I must go back to the desert, for only there shall I find peace.”
At length a servant came to him, saying that Lord Blair would receive him; and thereat he betook himself to the Great Man's study, his impulsive mind made up on the instant and eager to meet his destiny.
”Why, what is the matter, Daniel?” Lord Blair asked, as he entered the room. ”You looked troubled.”
”I am more than troubled,” said Daniel. ”I'm in despair. It's about Muriel: I'm afraid we've had a definite quarrel.”
Lord Blair wiggled in his chair, apparently with annoyance, though possibly with nothing more than an itch.
”Ah-a lovers' tiff ...,” he commented; but Daniel stopped him with a gesture.
”No, it's a total estrangement,” he said, fiercely. ”It's been growing gradually, and now there's nothing to be done. I've come to give you my resignation. I'm going back to El Hamran.”
Lord Blair suddenly sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his friend, the tips of his fingers touching the edge of the table as though some movement had been arrested. ”My dear Daniel,” he said at last, and he spoke sharply, ”control yourself! This is an absurd situation.”
”Oh yes, I know,” Daniel replied, ”you think I'm just a fool in love, who's going off in a huff. No, that's not it. I want to go because I've lost my happiness since I've been in Cairo: I'm utterly out of tune with the people I meet. Why, yesterday at the Cavillands' I could feel myself being a boor and a bore. I couldn't laugh.... Yes, that's it; since I've been amongst all these witty people I've forgotten how to laugh. Good G.o.d!-I hav'n't smiled for weeks. Out there in the desert, when my mind was at peace, I was always full of laughter; I was always chuckling to myself, just from sheer light-heartedness or whatever you like to call it. But here my heart's in my boots, and I'm blue all day long. I can't even whistle.”
”I think-indeed, I am sure-you are taking things too seriously,” said Lord Blair.