A Desert Drama, Arthur Conan Doyle [best ebook reader for pc .txt] 📗
- Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
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The long line of camels moved as noiselessly as ghosts across the desert. Before and behind were the silent swaying white figures of the Arabs. Not a sound anywhere, not the very faintest sound, until far away behind them they heard a human voice singing in a strong, droning, unmusical fashion. It had the strangest effect, this far-away voice, in that huge inarticulate wilderness. And then there came a well-known rhythm into that distant chant, and they could almost hear the words: We nightly pitch our moving tent A day's march nearer home.
Was Mr. Stuart in his right mind again, or was it some coincidence of his delirium, that he should have chosen this for his song? With moist eyes his friends looked back through the darkness, for well they knew that home was very near to this wanderer. Gradually the voice died away into a hum, and was absorbed once more into the masterful silence of the desert.
“My dear old chap, I hope you're not hurt?” said Belmont, laying his hand upon Cochrane's knee.
The Colonel had straightened himself, though he still gasped a little in his breathing.
“I am all right again, now. Would you kindly show me which was the man who struck me?”
“It was the fellow in front there—with his camel beside Fardet's.”
“The young fellow with the moustache—I can't see him very well in this light, but I think I could pick him out again. Thank you, Belmont!”
“But I thought some of your ribs were gone.”
“No; it only knocked the wind out of me.”
“You must be made of iron. It was a frightful blow. How could you rally from it so quickly?”
The Colonel cleared his throat and hummed and stammered.
“The fact is, my dear Belmont—I'm sure you would not let it go further—above all not to the ladies; but I am rather older than I used to be, and rather than lose the military carriage which has always been dear to me, I——”
“Stays, be Jove!” cried the astonished Irishman.
“Well, some slight artificial support,” said the Colonel, stiffly, and switched the conversation off to the chances of the morrow.
It still comes back in their dreams to those who are left, that long night's march in the desert. It was like a dream itself, the silence of it as they were borne forward upon those soft, shuffling sponge feet, and the flitting, flickering figures which oscillated upon every side of them. The whole universe seemed to be hung as a monstrous time-dial in front of them. A star would glimmer like a lantern on the very level of their path. They looked again, and it was a hand's-breadth up, and another was shining beneath it. Hour after hour the broad stream flowed sedately across the deep blue background, worlds and systems drifting majestically overhead, and pouring over the dark horizon. In their vastness and their beauty there was a vague consolation to the prisoners for their own fate, and their own individuality seemed trivial and unimportant amid the play of such tremendous forces. Slowly the grand procession swept across the heaven, first climbing, then hanging long with little apparent motion, and then sinking grandly downwards, until away in the east the first cold grey glimmer appeared, and their own haggard faces shocked each other's sight.
The day had tortured them with its heat, and now the night had brought the even more intolerable discomfort of cold. The Arabs swathed themselves in their gowns and wrapped up their heads. The prisoners beat their hands together and shivered miserably. Miss Adams felt it most, for she was very thin, with the impaired circulation of age. Stephens slipped off his Norfolk jacket and threw it over her shoulders. He rode beside Sadie, and whistled and chatted to make her believe that her aunt was really relieving him by carrying his jacket for him, but the attempt was too boisterous not to be obvious. And yet it was so far true that he probably felt the cold less than any of the party, for the old, old fire was burning in his heart, and a curious joy was inextricably mixed with all his misfortunes, so that he would have found it hard to say if this adventure had been the greatest evil or the greatest blessing of his lifetime. Aboard the boat, Sadie's youth, her beauty, her intelligence and humour, all made him realise that she could at the best only be expected to charitably endure him. But now he felt that he was really of some use to her, that every hour she was learning to turn to him as one turns to one's natural protector; and above all, he had begun to find himself—to understand that there really was a strong, reliable man behind all the tricks of custom which had built up an artificial nature, which had imposed even upon himself. A little glow of self-respect began to warm his blood. He had missed his youth when he was young, and now in his middle age it was coming up like some beautiful belated flower.
“I do believe that you are all the time enjoying it, Mr. Stephens,” said Sadie, with some bitterness.
“I would not go so far as to say that,” he answered. “But I am quite certain that I would not leave you here.”
It was the nearest approach to tenderness which he had ever put into a speech, and the girl looked at him in surprise.
“I think I've been a very wicked girl all my life,” she said, after a pause. “Because I have had a good time myself, I never thought of those who were unhappy. This has struck me serious. If ever I get back I shall be a better woman—a more earnest woman—in the future.”
“And I a better man. I suppose it is just for that that trouble comes to us. Look how it has brought out the virtues of all our friends. Take poor Mr. Stuart, for example. Should we ever have known what a noble, constant man he was? And see Belmont and his wife, in front of us, there, going fearlessly forward, hand in hand, thinking only of each other. And Cochrane, who always seemed on board the boat to be a rather stand-offish, narrow sort of man! Look at his courage, and his unselfish indignation when any one is ill used. Fardet, too, is as brave as a lion. I think misfortune has done us all good.”
Sadie sighed.
“Yes, if it would end right here one might say so. But if it goes on and on for a few weeks or months of misery, and then ends in death, I don't know where we reap the benefit of those improvements of character which it brings. Suppose you escape, what will you do'?”
The lawyer hesitated, but his professional instincts were still strong.
“I will consider whether an action lies, and against whom. It should be with the organisers of the expedition for taking us to the Abousir Rock—or else with the Egyptian Government for not protecting their frontiers. It will be a nice legal question. And what will you do, Sadie?”
It was the first time that he had ever dropped the formal Miss, but the girl was too much in earnest to notice it.
“I will be more tender to others,” she said. “I will try to make some one else happy in memory of the miseries which I have endured.”
“You have done nothing all your life but made others happy. You cannot help doing it,” said he. The darkness made it more easy for him to break through the reserve which was habitual with him. “You need this rough schooling far less than any of us. How could your character be changed for the better?”
“You show how little you know me. I have been very selfish and thoughtless.”
“At least you had no need for all these strong emotions. You were sufficiently alive without them. Now it has been different with me.”
“Why did you need emotions, Mr. Stephens'?”
“Because anything is better than stagnation. Pain is better than stagnation. I have only just begun to live. Hitherto I have been a machine upon the earth's surface. I was a one-ideaed man, and a one-ideaed man is only one remove from a dead man. That is what I have only just begun to realise. For all these years I have never been stirred, never felt a real throb of human emotion pass through me. I had no time for it. I had observed it in others, and I had vaguely wondered whether there was some want in me which prevented my sharing the experience of my fellow-mortals. But now these last few days have taught me how keenly I can live—that I can have warm hopes and deadly fears—that I can hate and that I can—well, that I can have every strong feeling which the soul can experience. I have come to life. I may be on the brink of the grave, but at least I can say now that I have lived.”
“And why did you lead this soul-killing life in England?”
“I was ambitious—I wanted to get on. And then there were my mother and my sisters to be thought of. Thank Heaven, here is the morning coming. Your aunt and you will soon cease to feel the cold.”
“And you without your coat?”
“Oh, I have a very good circulation. I can manage very well in my shirt-sleeves.”
And now the long, cold, weary night was over, and the deep blue-black sky had lightened to a wonderful mauve-violet, with the larger stars still glinting brightly out of it. Behind them the grey line had crept higher and higher, deepening into a delicate rose-pink, with the fan-like rays of the invisible sun shooting and quivering across it. Then, suddenly, they felt its warm touch upon their backs, and there were hard black shadows upon the sand in front of them. The Dervishes loosened their cloaks and proceeded to talk cheerily among themselves. The prisoners also began to thaw, and eagerly ate the doora which was served out for their breakfasts. A short halt had been called, and a cup of water handed to each.
“Can I speak to you, Colonel Cochrane?” asked the dragoman.
“No, you can't,” snapped the Colonel.
“But it is very important—all our safety may come from it.”
The Colonel frowned and pulled at his moustache.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, at last.
“You must trust to me, for it is as much to me as to you to get back to Egypt. My wife and home, and children, are on one part, and a slave for life upon the other. You have no cause to doubt it.”
“Well, go on!”
“You know the black man who spoke with you—the one who had been with Hicks?”
“Yes, what of him?”
“He has been speaking with me during the night. I have had a long talk with him. He said that he could not very well understand you, nor you him, and so he came to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that there were eight Egyptian soldiers among the Arabs—six black and two fellaheen. He said that he wished to have your promise that they should all have very good reward if they helped you to escape.”
“Of course they shall.”
“They asked for one hundred Egyptian pounds each.”
“They shall have it.”
“I told him that I would ask you, but that I was sure that you would agree to it.”
“What do they purpose to do?”
“They could promise nothing, but what they thought best was that they should ride their camels not
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