Upon the following morning, before eleven o'clock, Muriel installed
herself in a hammock slung from the lower branches of a shady sycamore,
some yards distant from the rose-bushes and shrubs which screened her
favourite alcove, now appropriated by Daniel. She had brought with her
from the house a handful of fashion-papers and illustrated journals, but
these she did not read as, with one foot touching the ground, she swung
herself gently to and fro. She looked up through the tracery of the
foliage to the brilliant blue of the sky, and her mind was too occupied
with her thoughts to give its attention to the latest manner in which
the women of Paris, London, and New York were adorning their nakedness.
Little shafts of sunlight, like fiery rods, pierced through the cool
blue shadow wherein she lay; and beyond the protection of the heavy
foliage the lawn of newly-sown grass gleamed in the radiance of the
morning. The faithful northwest wind, which almost daily blows over the
desert from the Mediterranean, was gently rustling the greenery
overhead, and rattling the hard leaves of the palms; and she could hear
the cry of the circling kites above her, though she could only see these
scavengers of the air when they swooped and tumbled down, as though in
play, to snatch at any edible fragments floating upon the surface of the
Nile.
All around her she was aware of the joy of existence, flashing out like
laughter and vibrating like song. The water sprinkled upon the lawn by
the garden hose seemed to be making merry in the sunshine; a black and
grey cow lurching across the grass seemed to be overcome with hilarity;
the palm-leaves swaying in the breeze might have been shaking with
mirth; and the babbling of the river as it swirled past the terrace was
like an endless lyric of well-being.
Muriel was too happily content to indulge in any profound self-analysis;
but vaguely she was conscious that her life had entered upon a new
phase, and shamelessly she asked herself whether the guiding hand were
love. She had realized for some time that Rupert Helsingham had made a
spurious impression upon her heart, and during the recent weeks of
amusement she had come to wonder how it was that he had aroused any
emotion in her, except that caused by his tragic death.
Now, however, she was aglow with buoyant happiness, and she had a
persistent feeling that all was well with her. Yesterday, on her return
from Daniel's camp, she had spoken to Kate Bindane of this sense of
well-being, and her friend's reply had set her laughing.
"My dear," Kate had said, "I'm sure I don't want to mess up your bright
picture of things; but in my opinion, look at it as you will, the joy of
life is always some sort of an itch and the scratching of it."
But today Muriel felt that the definition was false. Her happiness was
intangible, and all that she could say with certainty was that it was
the result of her little time of silence yesterday in the desert.
It had been so quiet and gentle, so entirely opposite to the prehistoric
rough-and-tumble which might have been expected. Her thoughts went back
to the incident of the curate at Eastbourne, who had banged her about on
the sofa, and would have rolled her on the floor, had not the ten
commandments suddenly affrighted him. She thought, too, of Rupert and
his impassioned kisses: he had left red marks on her shoulder.
But Daniel had been so silent, so tender, and withal so genuine. He had
seemed to be part of the vast sky and desert around him, enfolding her,
and harming her not. Yet with a twist of his hand he could have killed
her.
In the distance she heard the murmur of his voice as he talked to his
native visitors in the alcove; and she had a curious feeling that his
proximity was protective. She was no longer afraid, or even shy of him.
Presently, across the lawn, she saw him dismissing three silk-robed
Egyptians; and, when they had taken their departure, he waved his hand
to her before returning once more behind the screen of roses and trees.
The signal was like the caress of an old friend, and by it her happiness
was enhanced.
A few minutes later she watched another caller being piloted by a native
servant across the lawn to the alcove. He was a young _effendi_ wearing
European clothes and the usual red _tarboush_ or fez--an unhealthy
little man, who paused once to cough and to spit unpleasantly.
Lazily she watched the servant return to the house, and she hoped that
Daniel was finding his new visitor interesting.
She closed her eyes, and sleep was stealing upon her when suddenly she
was startled into full consciousness by the sharp crack of a
pistol-shot. She sprang out of the hammock and stood for a moment
staring about her, her heart beating.
The sound had come from the direction of the alcove, but now all was
silent once more. Evidently nobody in the house had heard the shot; and
she might have thought it to have been an illusion of sleep, had it not
been for the manifest excitement of the birds which had risen from the
branches of the trees around.
Almost without definite thought she hastened across the lawn, and
paused, listening, near the rose bushes. A whimpering sound of moaning
came to her ears; and at this she ran forward impulsively, and, a moment
later, came to a sudden halt upon the secluded terrace.
Before her, upon the flagstones, crouched the figure of the young
Egyptian. He was holding his right wrist in his left hand, and was
staring up, with open mouth, at Daniel who stood over him, fingering a
revolver which now he slipped quietly into his pocket as he caught sight
of her.
"Go away, Muriel!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The Egyptian struggled to his feet, but Daniel caught him by the arm and
half dragged him to the marble bench.
"What's happened?" she cried. "I heard a shot."
"Did anybody else hear it?" he asked, so sharply that his voice startled
her.
"I don't think so," she answered.
"Good," he said. "This young man's revolver went off by mistake: that's
all. Please go away."
"O Daniel!" she cried, realizing the truth. "He tried to kill you!"
"Hush!" he whispered, impatiently. "Here, help me to tie up his wrist:
I've broken it, I think."
The Egyptian rocked himself to and fro, making no resistance as Daniel
took hold of his injured arm, talking to him the while in Arabic, as
though bidding him have no fear. With the would-be assassin's
handkerchief he bound up the injured wrist, while Muriel gave all the
assistance of which her trembling fingers were capable; and then, with
his own large handkerchief he improvised a sling, never ceasing
meanwhile to soothe the man with soft words of sympathetic
consideration, as though he had been a doctor called in to attend the
victim of an accident.
When the bandaging had been accomplished, he turned to Muriel. "Now
please go away, Muriel dear," he said, "and thanks very much for your
help. Remember, not a word about this to anybody at all."
He smiled at her reassuringly, and obliged her to take her departure,
again cautioning her to keep the incident secret. She walked across the
lawn to the house, dazed and anxious; and thus she went up to her room,
where, looking into the mirror, she was surprised to observe the
paleness of her face.
Meanwhile Daniel sat upon the bench beside the Egyptian, smoking his
pipe, and waiting for him to recover his composure. The incident had
been so foolish, and the attempt upon his life so bungled, that he felt
nothing but pity for the wretched man who, he presumed, had believed
himself to be performing a patriotic act.
The Secret Service Agents had fully warned him of possible danger, and
he had spotted this youth as a suspicious character as soon as he had
entered the alcove. The man had been trembling visibly, and when his
unsteady hand had fumbled in his pocket, Daniel had gripped his wrist on
the instant that the revolver came into sight. The bullet had struck the
balustrade and had gone singing into the river, while the weapon had
fallen with a clatter upon the pavement.
Daniel had experienced no alarm, and now he felt no anger. He was
determined, however, to get to the root of the plot; and it seemed to
him far wiser to take action here and now, than to await a judicial
enquiry.
As soon, therefore, as his assailant had ceased his moaning and his
monotonous rocking to and fro, Daniel took him by his left arm, and led
him across the lawn and round to the front gates of the Residency. Here
he hailed one of the little open carriages from the stand at the other
side of the square, and, helping the Egyptian into it, told the coachman
to drive to the nearest hospital.
In the consulting room he explained to the doctor that the man was a
friend of his who had injured his wrist by a fall; and soon the mischief
was rectified and the arm put into splints.
Daniel then announced his intention of seeing him back to his house; but
at this the man aroused himself from the silent stupor into which he had
fallen, and vehemently protested.
"You cannot come with me," he declared. "By God, I shall give no
address."
Daniel had been told by his agents an address at which a certain group
of malcontents were known to meet; and, chancing the man's connection
with this fraternity, he now named the house to the driver. The
_effendi_ immediately sank back into the corner of the carriage with a
look of terror upon his face which indicated clearly enough that the
surmise had been correct.
"Do not fear," said Daniel to him, "I mean you no harm. If God is
willing I shall meet some of your friends, and we shall be able to talk
over this matter."
Once during the journey, when their carriage had come to a momentary
standstill, in the crowded Mousky, Daniel observed a certain tension in
his companion's attitude which indicated that he was contemplating
flight; and he was prepared, therefore, when the man made a sudden leap
forward.
"Ass!" he exclaimed, pulling him down on to the seat. The meaning of the
expression in Arabic is much the same as it is in English.
For the rest of the way Daniel kept an eye upon the injured man; but the
sharp twinge of pain consequent upon his attempted flight had led him
once more to prefer a condition of fatalistic apathy, and he made no
second effort to escape.
A turning off the Mousky brought them into a winding native street,
where a few low-class Greeks were the only European pedestrians to be
observed in the crowd of Orientals; and at last the driver steered his
carriage into a quiet alley, and pulled up before the arched doorway of
a whitewashed house, the upper storeys of which projected outwards until
they abutted those of the buildings on the opposite side.
Daniel assisted the Egyptian to alight, and, as they passed through the
archway into the stone-flagged hall beyond, where the light was dim,
warned him against treachery.
"I still have your loaded revolver in my pocket," he reminded him. "I
have come to speak to your friends, and if they are here you must lead
me to them."
For a moment the man hesitated, but Daniel accelerated matters by
clapping his hands loudly, which is the Egyptian method of summoning a
servant; and thereupon a door was opened at the head of the crazy flight
of wooden stairs, and an untidy figure of a man in a blue-cotton shirt
appeared before them.
"Are the others here?" asked Daniel, seeing that his companion was
recognized.
"Upstairs," the man answered, shortly, pointing to the gallery above
him, and therewith returned whence he came, his slouching attitude
displaying all the indifference of which the untrained Egyptian servant
is so eminently capable.
"Lead the way," said Daniel to his companion, who, recognizing the
_Kismet al Allah_, the destiny of God, obeyed without protest, mounting
the stairs in silence.
As they neared the shut door which had been indicated to them, the
Egyptian was overcome with a fit of coughing, the rasping sound of which
echoed through the house; and, as though the sound had been recognized,
the door before them was immediately opened, and the pock-marked face
and red _tarboush_ of another young native _effendi_ appeared.
"What's this?" he exclaimed in astonishment, pointing to his friend's
injured arm. Then, seeing the Englishman, he checked himself warily.
Daniel took a step forward. "I have brought him back to you," he said,
affably. "He is hurt."
A moment later they were inside the room, and Daniel was fingering the
trigger of the revolver in his pocket, as he glanced from one to another
of the five men confronting him. They had risen to their feet, and were
standing in attitudes of manifest nervousness. They had evidently been
disturbed at their midday meal, for it was now a little past noon: three
or four dishes of food stood upon the floor, and the mouths of at least
two of the men were full. The smell of garlic and stale tobacco smoke
pervaded the room; and a shaft of sunlight striking through the window
revealed a mass of flies hovering and buzzing around a plate of
something which appeared to be cold minced meat.
"Peace be unto you!" said Daniel, using the Islamic salutation; and the
men muttered the customary response, as though by force of habit.
Daniel stood with his back to the door which he had closed behind. "I
ask your forgiveness for my intrusion," he said, still speaking in
Arabic, "but I thought the matter urgent. This morning this gentleman
came to the Residency, where I have the honour of being employed, and
fired the revolver at me which I am now holding in my pocket. But it
pleased God to spare my life, and I immediately came to ask you why you
wished my death. You know the words of the Prophet: 'Man is a building
erected by God, and he who destroys the building of God shall himself be
destroyed.'"
The injured man had collapsed upon a stiff bench which stood against the
wall, and was now rocking himself to and fro once more, the tears of
pain and exasperation streaming down his face.
"He is in great pain," said Daniel, "for I am sorry to say I have broken
his wrist. I took him to the hospital, and the bones are set; but he
will require much care. I think you would do well to give him something
to eat."
One of the Egyptians, less concerned with his own interests than the
others, fetched a cup of water, and held it to the sufferer's lips; but
his companions still stood like startled sheep, eyeing their muscular
visitor with undisguised dismay. They were all young men--students,
perhaps, or clerks in minor employ; and it was evident that they were
entirely nonplussed, for they answered not a word.
"My object in coming here," Daniel continued, "is simply to learn from
you the cause of your anger. You must be feeling something very deeply
to resort to assassination; but why should you desire to murder _me_? I
am the only person who can help you."
He assured them of his desire to understand their point of view, and
gradually he was able to break down their anxious reserve, so that
presently they spoke to him with a certain amount of freedom, and they
heard, probably for the first time, the English attitude expounded in
terms of idealism. They were fanatical young men whose patriotism was
nothing more than dislike of the foreigner, which, indeed, is a large
part of all patriotism; and though Daniel made little attempt to argue
with them he was able very soon to establish more or less sympathetic
relations with his would-be murderers, and perhaps to convince them that
bloodshed is foolish.
The situation had a piquancy which amused him vastly; and when,
presently, he unloaded the revolver and handed it back to the melancholy
figure upon the divan, he could not refrain from laughter, in which, to
his surprise, the others joined.
"Cheer up, O son of complaint!" he said. "You ought to be praising God
that you are not about to be hanged." Then, turning to the others, he
told them how glad he was that they found cause for mirth in the
situation. "Are we not all like the pieces upon a chessboard?" he asked.
"But do we realize that God is playing both sides of the game? Remember
the words of the Koran: 'They plotted, and God plotted; and God is the
best of plotters.' Now let us laugh and give thanks that no blood has
been spilt, for it is precious stuff; and finally let us agree to forget
the incident. So far as I am concerned it is _khalas khalas_--absolutely
closed; and on your part, if you have further cause for hostility, come
to the Residency and ask for me, but do not bring your revolvers with
you or I shall give you no coffee."
He arrived back at the Residency somewhat late for luncheon, and his
high spirits were such that Muriel stared at him in amazement. When the
meal was finished she took him aside, as the others left the room, and
asked where he had been.
"I took my murderer home," he explained, "and made friends with his
fellow-assassins, and we all had a good laugh together. It seemed to be
the best way of settling the matter."
"O Daniel," she whispered, "you're either a hero or else you're crazy."
"No," he answered, "I'm just a philosopher--that is to say, one who sees
the comic side of life."
"There's not much comedy about the attempted murder of one's best
friend," she answered.
His face became serious and his eyes sought hers. "Am I your best
friend?" he asked.
She turned from him and stared out of the window. They were alone in the
room, and he put his hand upon her shoulder, as she nodded her head in
silence.
Suddenly he observed that her eyes were full of tears, and at this his
heart seemed for a moment to stop beating.
"Muriel," he whispered, but his voice failed him.
She looked round at him, and smiled; and that which was destined to
happen happened all in a moment. His arms enfolded her, and, bending
down, he kissed her with the passion of revelation--fervently,
exultantly, joyously.