“The hole which he made opened into a granary.”—Arabic Proverb. She did not dine with the Arabian that night nor any other night, and when, one evening, some seven days later, completely restored to health, she walked out to the edge of the platform to ascertain the cause of the shouting of men, barking of dogs, and occasional firing of rifles, Namlah crept up behind and urged her to go in.
“Orders have come. Her Excellency is to remain inside her chamber until other orders come giving her her freedom.”
“But what is it all about?” inquired Helen, as she reluctantly entered her room.
Namlah spat, or, rather, made a sound as though she spat, before replying.
“Zarah the Merciless makes an excursion into the Robaa-el-Khali.” She pointed towards the cleft through which the desert in the starlight showed like the face of a veiled woman. “Allah grant that she remain there, a food for vultures, as have remained so many. She is a liar, a thief, a murderess. Allah guide the knife through her black heart.”
A spirit of rebellion, of adventure, of recklessness, showed in Helen’s eyes as she questioned the little woman who had repeated all she had heard the night she had spied through the window and had so urgently counselled silence and watchfulness and patience.
“Yea! Excellency! she leads the men. The men and beasts laden with provision and water and ammunition wherewith to make a camp between this and the scene of the fighting have departed these many hours. Ah![139] she is as cunning as the jackal. She relies not upon chance. She has always a place of refuge to fall back on if the fight goes against her, or if the men are in need of food for themselves or their guns. How long she will be gone? I know not; maybe a few hours, a night, a week—who knows?”
“The Nubian, has he gone too?”
Namlah laughed shrilly.
“Ha! the knotter of shoe-strings, the eater of dust, behold he has gone these may days upon some secret journey. He held conclave of great length with the woman who rules us with a rod fashioned in the nethermost Jahannam. They sat under the starlight so that I could not approach, Excellency; they spoke softly so that I could not catch their words from the rock behind which I lay concealed.”
She smiled up into Helen’s face when, under the strain of the suspense in which she had lived for the last ten days, she took the servant by the shoulders and shook her none too gently.
“I can’t bear it much longer, Namlah!” she said in her pretty, broken Arabic. “I can’t bear the uncertainty, I can’t bear the silence, the waiting, with nothing to do to kill the terrible hours. I simply cannot bear it. For danger to myself I do not fear, I do not care. Cannot I find the way out so that I can escape? Can I not?”
There was no one in sight, there was certainly no one within hearing, up there in the eyrie so near the stars, but the little woman ran first to the right and then to the left and then into the room before she sidled up to Helen and whispered.
Is not intrigue as the breath of life in the East?
“Her Excellency must take exercise, must walk under the stars to-night whilst she is abroad.” She spread her fingers wide and down in the direction of the path leading across the quicksands. “Her Excellency must walk, even if it be amongst the rocks where the shadows lie blackest.”
[140]
Helen looked intently at the little woman, who gazed out of the doorway with an air of seraphic innocence.
“I could not find my way down there, Namlah! I should fall or get lost or——”
Namlah trotted to the door and stood with her hand shading her eyes, looking out towards the desert.
“Yet is there one, Excellency, who without eyes walketh safely amongst the rocks. One without eyes, but with much wisdom upon his tongue and goodness in his heart, who walketh ever without fear in the great darkness; one who yearneth to help those whose backs have suffered from the whip or whose hearts have suffered from the power wielded by that daughter of Shaitan!” She crept close to Helen and whispered in her ear: “One who likewise craveth to hurt, to wound, to kill, in revenge.”
Helen shivered at the hate in the little woman’s voice, but she understood. She had learned the history of the blind man from Namlah; once when, restless and unable to sleep through anxiety, she had walked out on to the platform she had seen him in the grey light of the dawn, standing midway on the steps, his face raised to her abode; once Namlah had lain a few flowers on the silken coverlet, had whispered, “patience brings victory to the blind and the prisoner,” and had retired to her pots and pans with finger on lips.
The body-woman walked to the edge of the platform and beckoned to the white girl she loved, and pointed to a silvery cloud of sand far out in the desert.
“Yonder she rides,” she whispered. “May the sand choke her! May the scorpion sting her heel! May....” She smiled up at Helen and shrugged her scarred shoulders in the expressive Eastern way. “But of the luck of such, Excellency, is it written, ‘throw him into the river and he will rise with a fish in his mouth.’ Yet will her turn come; the tide cannot remain at the full, the sun must set. Behold! I descend to the river, whilst the men and women make merry in her absence, to fetch water for her[141] Excellency’s bath, leaving her alone, to walk amongst the rocks, in the protection of Allah!”
Helen watched the little woman descend the steep steps, balancing a great earthenware jar skilfully upon her head; noticed that she stopped for a moment near one gigantic boulder which lay to the right of the steps; listened to her singing as she made the rest of the descent down to the water, which looked like a ribbon of silver run through a purple velvet curtain, then entered the room, which was really a prison cell, pulled a sheet of dark blue silk from her bed, and ran out on to the ledge.
She did not hesitate.
That the woman might be a spy did not once enter her head, and if it had, under the strength of her love and her anxiety, she would doubtlessly have thrown caution to the soft night wind and risked her life in an endeavour to find out if there was not some way of escape by which she could return to the man she loved.
Her own clothes, cleansed and pressed by Namlah’s busy fingers, had been returned to her, so that she stood, a beautiful picture of an English girl, in the strangest of strange surroundings, looking down into the shadows out of which, she prayed, help might come to her.
Afraid of her outline against the sky, fearful of dislodging some stone to send it clattering down the steps, she wrapped the blue sheet round herself and descended slowly, carefully, pausing to listen, standing to peer into the ink-black shadows on every side, and down to the plateau where, by the light of torches and of fires, she could see men and women passing to and fro.
She had almost reached the great boulder, when she stopped and drew the dark silk still tighter and peered about uneasily, as she tried to locate a soft hissing sound which came from some spot quite near to her.
Through bitter experience she had learned the ways of Arabia’s scorpions, centipedes, wasps and flies; had fled in terror from the one and only aboo hanekein she had[142] encountered, a fat, poisonous brute of a spider with formidable pincers, and wrestled vainly against the great variety of ants which the Peninsula offers; of locusts she had but the slightest acquaintance, and of the deadly vipers, the Rukla and the Afar, which abound in rocks she had only been warned that afternoon.
Yet for fear of someone mounting the steps she dared not remain where she was, and had just decided to risk the few yards which would bring her to the boulder, when once more she caught the hissing sound.
And then from sheer relief she almost laughed.
“Sit!” whispered Yussuf from the shadows. “Ya Sit! Sit!”
She crept forward and round the boulder to where stood the blind man, who had been perfectly aware of her noiseless descent. She did not shrink at the terrible face, twisted and scarred, which looked down upon her; rather did her heart go out to the maimed man as she laid her hand upon his arm and called him by name.
“I trust you, Yussuf,” she said simply, which is quite one of the best ways of winning the heart of an embittered man.
“Her Excellency can trust me!” whispered Yussuf as he salaamed. “Namlah and I are brother and sister in affliction. I have lost the light of these mine eyes, she has lost the light of her life, her son, in the grievous battle. To ease our hurts we seek to help thee, gracious lady, so that upon her return the woman who rules us may find ashes in the taste of her victory and gall in the wine of her success. The plans are laid, have been laid this long while. I will carry her Excellency over the secret path and out into the desert, then will I return for Namlah and the camels, which are hidden and waiting these many hours, the swiftest and most docile hejeen in the stables.”
“Now? At once?” asked Helen, trembling with excitement. “But how can you guide us across the desert?”
[143]
“Thy servant rides by the wind.” He lifted his sightless face to the star-strewn sky and smiled. “’Tis from the east, Sit. Let it blow in our faces, and we go towards the east until the sun sets after the passing of two days, then we go north upon the path to Hutāh, passing the field of the battle where the accursed offspring of the devil lifted the white woman.”
Overpowered with gratitude, almost speechless with amazement as the weight of her fear was lifted from her, Helen trembled, under the shock of the sudden realization of her hopes and, desirous that he should share in her happiness, caught the man’s hand in entreaty.
“You will come with us? You will let me and his Excellency, the man I am going to marry, look after you, make you happy, make you forget, you and Namlah?” She laughed softly, aglow with love and hope. “Gratitude is a small, a very small, word, Yussuf, and it cannot express what I would say in thanks.”
Yussuf smiled as he shook his head. Such words were rare in his ears; of such brotherly love, excepting for that in his own heart, he had had no knowledge.
“I will take thee, Sit, to within sight of the oasis, then must I return. My task is not finished, will not be finished, until the spirit of Zarah the Cruel has return............