Muriel was not slow to spy out the possibilities of her friend's
steamer. Her father, she soon discovered, was glad enough that she
should make herself agreeable to the Bindanes; for, as he explained to
her at some length, Mr. Bindane was at that time engaged in raising an
enormous sum of money for agricultural investment in the western oases
of Egypt, and it was of great importance that the luxurious
river-steamer and the Residency should be on intimate terms.
For years Lord Blair and his predecessors had endeavoured in vain to
interest the financial world in the mineral products and rich soil of
the chain of oases which spreads across the desert between Egypt and
Tripoli. But nobody, least of all the Government, would yet trust their
money in an outlying territory so recently explored and opened up. Then
Benifett Bindane had wandered into the Foreign Office, when Lord Blair
was on leave in England, and had remarked laconically that he would
raise the necessary millions.
At first he had hardly been taken seriously, for he looked such a fool.
Later it was thought that because he looked such a fool it might be
worth while to help him to part with his money; and finally it was
discovered that he was not such a fool as he looked. The money he
proposed to find was to be mostly other people's, those other people
being likely to be persuaded by the fact that the money would appear to
be mostly his own. He had promised to send somebody out to Egypt to
investigate, and now, quietly and without any apparent pretext other
than that of his honeymoon, he had come himself.
Three or four days after the Bindanes' arrival a thirty hours' excursion
up the river was planned, the party consisting of the bridal couple,
Lady Muriel, Lady Smith-Evered, Rupert Helsingham, and Professor Hyley,
the Egyptologist. The Pyramid of Meidum, some fifty miles upstream from
Cairo, was the objective; and it was proposed to start at noon, to moor
for the night near the village of Meidum, to ride over to the ruins on
the following morning, and to make the return journey to Cairo during
the afternoon and evening.
Muriel boarded the steamer when the time came with keen interest hidden
under a casual exterior. For her it was to be a sort of trial run: she
was going to study the romantic possibilities of the Nile. If the trip
provided opportunities for Rupert Helsingham to make love to her, in
which direction his recent actions had begun to point, she would try to
arrange further excursions, perhaps with him, perhaps in other company.
The professor was a neat and natty little man, with prominent teeth and
wistful eyes, a eunuch's voice and pretty manners; and an hour had not
passed before it was apparent that the General's lady had taken him to
her bosom. He examined an antique scarab ring upon her finger, and told
her to what dynasty it was to be dated; he showed her a somewhat similar
ring upon his own finger, and said it was not so good nor so old a
specimen as hers; he remarked what a fine old English soldier the
General was, and he sighed to think how few were left of that breed; he
poked delicate and kindly fun at the younger hostesses of Cairo, and
compared their social efforts with those of the elder generation, so
admirably represented by the lady to whom he was speaking. Lady
Smith-Evered thought him a dear little man, a designation the first two
words of which were certainly applicable.
"They just love each other, don't they!" Rupert whispered to Muriel.
"Yes," she replied. "I think that disposes of my chaperone."
She made the remark with evident satisfaction, and Rupert glanced
quickly at her. His heart was beating fast.
"You seem glad," he said.
Muriel shrugged her shoulders.
The afternoon was hot, and as the party lounged on deck the glare of the
sunlight upon the mirror of the water was dazzling. Mr. Bindane put on a
pair of blue spectacles, and presently gave vent to a series of
hay-feverish sneezes.
"Good God!" exclaimed his wife. "Look at what I've married!" She seized
his unresisting arm.
"Come, Benifett, let's go and lie down in the cabin."
"A good idea," said Lady Smith-Evered, thankfully following her hostess
below. "I shall go to my cabin too."
"I think forty winks for me, also," the Professor presently remarked,
feeling himself to be _de trop_.
"Are you going to have a siesta?" asked Rupert, looking at Muriel with
fervour in his eyes.
"Not unless I fall off to sleep in this comfy chair," she answered. "In
that case, you must promise to wake me if my mouth drops open. Pull up
your chair close to mine, and tell me the story of your life."
Rupert stood up, and, taking off his coat, rolled back his
shirt-sleeves, revealing a pair of well-made blue-veined arms. The
leather belt which held up his white flannel trousers was pulled in
tightly, and Muriel did not fail to admire the slimness of his waist as
he settled himself in the long deck-chair at her side.
They were screened from the sun by an Arabic awning of many colours, and
their eyes looked out across the oily surface of the water to the
luxuriant river bank which seemed to pass before them like an unfolding
picture, now revealing the open fields, now a village basking in the
sunlight, now groups of palms and cedars in the deep shadows of which
the peasants rested with their flocks, and now a native villa with
mysterious latticed shutters and silent walled gardens. Every hundred
yards or so there was a _sakieh_, by which the water was raised from the
river into the irrigation channels; and as each came into sight the
creaking of the great wooden cogwheel, and the song of the half-naked
boy who drove his patient ox round and round, drifted to their ears,
drowsily and with plaintive monotony.
Neither Muriel nor Rupert talked much, but their sleepy proximity
engendered a quiet sympathy between them more potent than any words. Her
hands lay idly in her lap; and presently, with a lazy movement, he
extended his arm and let it fall across hers, so that his hand rested
upon her hand. She turned slightly and smiled at him, but she did not
move. Their two heads, each upon its cushion, drooped closer together.
Muriel's eyes closed, and, with a sense of gentle happiness pervading
her mind, she fell asleep.
When she woke up, a quarter of an hour later, she knew that Rupert had
just kissed her: she still felt the touch of his lips. She did not
resent it; it was not unexpected. But somehow she felt that she was no
longer carrying out an experiment. The handsome young man beside her,
after these few weeks of probation, had managed, somehow, to step into
the sanctuary of her heart, and had seated himself audaciously upon the
throne which had stood vacant these many months.
She sat up in her chair and passed her hands across her eyes. Then she
turned, and, with a smile upon her lips, looked steadily at her
companion.
"You kissed me," she said. She spoke in a tone almost of awe.
"Yes," he answered, and his voice failed him. He turned his eyes to the
bank of the river and clenched his teeth. He felt very uncomfortable.
"Why?" she asked. Her face was very close to his, and his hand was about
her wrist.
"Because I love you, Muriel," he whispered; and the hoarseness of his
voice would have seemed comical to her had she been in a normal
condition.
Suddenly he put his arm about her shoulder and pulled her down to him,
so that her head lay upon his breast and her hair touched his face. She
did not resist; the drowsy warmth of the afternoon, the Oriental beauty
of their surroundings, and the still unevaporated magic of that great
enchanter, Sleep, held her powerless.
Again and again he kissed her--kissed her mouth and her eyes, her
forehead and her cheeks, her throat and her hair; and with each touch of
his lips the fires of her womanhood leaped up within her, so that in
these few moments the whole course of her life, so it seemed to her, was
changed, and new directions, new vistas, were revealed in intense
illumination.
At last, dazed and flushed, she released herself from his hold and stood
before him, her fingers clasping and unclasping themselves, her eyes
wild and yet tender in their wildness.
"Rupert!" she gasped. "O Rupert!"
Suddenly she turned and ran to the companionway, and the next moment had
disappeared.
Rupert sprang from his chair, and banged his fist into the palm of his
other hand. "Gad!" he cried aloud, and there was exultation in his
voice. He walked the length of the deck, with his hands in his pockets;
then he sat down, and immediately got up again. His knees seemed to be
trembling under him. He wondered whether that was a symptom of love, and
decided that it was not. No he was not in love; he was just excited. And
no wonder! Muriel was one of the great heiresses of England, and one of
the most charming girls on the market, so to speak; and he had
practically got her! Well, perhaps he was in love: her kisses were
wonderful; the feeling of closeness to her was exquisite! How delighted
his father would be! "Lady Muriel Helsingham," and, in time to come,
"Lady Helsingham of Singleton!" And all that money!
He lit a cigarette, puffed frenziedly at it, and threw it into the
river. Then he, too, went below.
Muriel's cabin was opposite his own, and at the door he paused and
listened. He thought he heard her sigh, and his heart heat faster. She
was madly in love with him! Why hadn't he acted sooner? His
school-friend had been perfectly right: a man has only got to take his
courage in both hands and attack a woman forcibly, and she succumbs.
He went into his cabin and shut the door briskly. He sat down on the
edge of the narrow bed, and stared critically at himself in the mirror
opposite. He was quite good-looking. He wondered how Lord Blair would
take it. After all, it was not a bad match for his daughter: he was the
son and heir of a Peer of the Realm, and his father had a very nice
little estate.
In the cabin opposite, Muriel, likewise, sat upon the edge of her bed.
She had been crying, and there were still tears in her eyes. Surely, she
thought, this must be love that had come to her, though sudden and
unexpected had been its advent. She was profoundly stirred, and
wonderingly she recalled every moment of the experience through which
she had just passed. It had been so sweet; his eyes had looked into hers
so tenderly; his lips had aroused something so mighty within her. Of
course she would marry him if he asked her; but she was so selfish, so
stupid, and he was so clever. Everybody loved him: perhaps he would
quickly grow tired of her....
At tea-time she could not look at him. She talked at random to the
others, and as they all sat afterwards on deck watching the sun go down,
she still kept aloof from him. Later, in dressing for dinner, she
exacted particular care from her maid; and she was thankful that she had
brought her most becoming dress with her.
"My dear, you look a dream!" exclaimed Kate Bindane as she came into the
dining-room. "A dam' sight too beautiful for my liking! I'll have to
keep my old man out of your way, or you'll make him feel all of a
twitter. As it is, I see him eyeing you all the time. He's a dark horse,
is Benifett: you never know what he's up to."
And certainly during dinner his watery eyes were fixed upon her from
time to time with disconcerting directness. A glass or two of champagne
helped her to overcome a feeling of shyness in relation to Rupert, and
soon she became conscious of a growing excitement. She wondered what
would happen before the evening was over, and alternately she longed for
the meal to come to an end, and was dismayed to find it advancing so
quickly. She talked feverishly, and, indeed, Lady Smith-Evered once felt
it her duty to make signs to the butler to refrain from filling the
girl's glass. Muriel, however, observed the signal, and laughed aloud.
"Am I talking too fast or something?" she asked, holding up her empty
glass to the hesitating butler.
"No, it's only that wine is not very good for one in this climate,"
whispered Lady Smith-Evered, her expression hinting at strange things.
"It can't hurt her," said Mr. Bindane, yet he drank only water himself.
As they went up on deck for their coffee, Muriel felt her face burning
and her heart thumping; and when Rupert stood at her side and
surreptitiously touched her hand she experienced so wondrous a thrill of
emotion that she forgot what she was saying at the moment to Professor
Hyley, and their conversation--something about ancient Egyptian
gods--completely broke down.
Owing to some engine-trouble earlier in the day the steamer had not
nearly reached its destination; and now, for the sake of the passengers'
comfort, it was travelling quietly and at a much reduced pace. The night
was warm, windless, and intensely dark, for the waning moon had not yet
risen; but the stars were brilliant, and the Milky Way stretched across
the heavens like a band of ghostly silver.
As soon as the coffee cups were removed Mr. Bindane proposed the
inevitable game of bridge, and therewith their host and hostess, Lady
Smith-Evered, and the Professor descended to the saloon, Muriel and
Rupert remaining on deck--by the tacit and tactful arrangement of Kate
Bindane, who seemed to anticipate their inclinations.
"There's a nice little cosy corner at the stern," she whispered to
Rupert, and gave him a friendly dig in the ribs. Fortunately Muriel was
out of earshot.
To the stern, therefore, he led his companion when at length they were
left alone, and here on a comfortable sofa they seated themselves. Nor
did he allow many moments to pass before he attempted to resume the
intimacy of the afternoon. Muriel, however, was self-conscious, and as
he kissed her she gently thrust him away from her.
"Don't," she muttered. "Please don't, Rupert, dear."
There was a tone of anguish in her voice, for at the dawn of love a
woman feels terror such as no man can understand. Instinctively, and
without definite reasoning, she dreads the consequences of her actions;
and whereas a man's new love is glorious with the exultation of careless
conquest, a woman's is tender with the vision of uncomprehended pain to
be. At the lightest touch of a new lover's lips she catches sight of her
whole destiny; and where a man rejoices, a woman quakes.
Rupert was abashed, and, releasing her from his grasp, stared before him
into the darkness, while Muriel waited for him to make her quake again:
it was a wonderful sensation.
"Why shouldn't I kiss you, Muriel?" he asked. "You love me, you know you
do." He turned to her, and his face came close to hers. "You do love me,
don't you?"
For answer she ran her fingers through his hair and looked long at him.
In the dim light he could see that she was searching his face as though
endeavouring to find in it the assurance her womanhood required. He
hoped that her hands were not untidying him beyond quick repair: he very
much disliked having his hair ruffled.
Again he put his arms about her, and now she did not resist. Her eyes
closed, and as in a dream she gave herself up to the emotion of the
moment. In some miraculous manner it seemed to her Rupert had developed,
and his arms that now enfolded her were suddenly endowed with celestial
strength. It was as though by loving her he had identified himself with
a force far greater than his own; and even the broken words which he
uttered seemed to have a more profound meaning. She forgot that she had
read such words in many a short story, many a novel; they sounded
beautiful to her; they came to her ears with all the enchantment of
things never before spoken in the whole history of the world.
"O Rupert," she murmured, "do I mean all that to you?"
"You mean heaven and hell to me, Muriel," he said, dramatically.
For a considerable time--though time to her stood still--they sat
together in the darkness, closely held in one another's arms, his cheek
and his lips pressed against her bare shoulder and neck; and as the
moments passed the intoxication of love began to bewilder him as it had
already overwhelmed her. Her skin was so warm, so soft, so alluring, and
the surge of her breath was so entrancing!
Suddenly they became conscious of the sound of much shouting amongst the
native crew, and at the same time the drone of the paddle-wheels ceased.
Rupert raised his head, and his hands began instinctively to tidy his
hair and to arrange his disordered tie.
"We must have arrived," he said. "The others will be coming up on deck:
we'd better move."
He stood up, and Muriel sank back into the corner of the sofa, her arm
across her eyes. For some moments she seemed to be unable to bring her
mind down from the heights of her dream; and Rupert watched her with
anxiety, hoping that she would speedily master herself.
"Come," he said. "Let's walk along the deck."
Very slowly she rose to her feet, and, with a sigh, put her arm in his.
The steamer had evidently reached its destination, and the captain's
bell incessantly rang his orders to the engine-room, while the hurried
tread of bare feet could be heard on the bridge above them as they came
into the soft light amidships. On one side the bank of the river could
be discerned in the darkness, still some thirty or forty feet distant;
on the other the open water stretched, reflecting the innumerable stars.
To this latter side Rupert led her, and, leaning his back against the
railing above the now silent paddle-wheel, he held his hand out to her
as she stood before him.
"Muriel," he whispered, when fervently he had kissed her fingers, "will
you be my wife?"
She drew in her breath sharply, and her hands clasped themselves against
her breast. She had been waiting for these words, but now when she heard
them they frightened her. Somehow in the light of the electric lamps her
dream in the darkness had faded, and there was a sense of cooler reality
in her mind, a kind of reaction. Why should she say 'Yes' at once? Ought
she not to try him yet a little while before she gave herself to him?
She remembered that until today she had not known that she loved him:
perhaps it was all an illusion, created by the Nile.
He saw the look in her face, and as he leaned back heavily against the
railing his heart sank within him. Was she only playing with him? Did
she only feel for him what he felt for her?
"Well?" he asked, and his hands were clenched upon the iron rail.
She did not answer. She stood staring at him with fixed eyes, and as she
did so a sensation of annoyance passed across his mind.
"Ah!" he muttered. "You don't love me. You're only amusing yourself with
me."
"Rupert!" she exclaimed.
Seeing that his tactics were correct, he allowed his anger to develop.
He made a dramatic gesture and flung himself back against the railing.
At the same moment the paddle-wheel beneath him began suddenly to
revolve, as the captain manoeuvred the ship towards the shore. There was
a slight lurch; Rupert uttered an exclamation; he seemed to sway away
from her; and, heels over head, he fell into the churning water.
Muriel sprang forward. In the half-light she saw the soles of his shoes
disappear as the black water swallowed him; then a dripping, writhing
form was lifted on a blade of the paddle and tossed into the air. She
saw his horrified eyes and his spread fingers. She heard him shriek....
"Help!" she screamed, and, screaming, she rushed across the deck. "Help!
Help!"