|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 65
From somewhere amongst the rocky wilderness of the hills, carried by
the night-breeze, had come the hoarse coughing of a lion.
"Listen," he said.
And as it came again, with shrieks of "Sab�! sab�!" the pea-green
_sayis_ leapt on the back of the terrified donkey, which, spurred by
fear, disappeared like a streak down the hill just as the stallion,
sweating with pure terror, reared and wheeled, then backed, with great
eyes rolling and hoofs striking sparks from the stones.
Up he reared, until it seemed impossible that he should not fall
backwards, crushing to death or hideously maiming the man who,
encumbered with the girl upon his arm, could do little to calm the
frightened beast, And well for them was it that Hugh Carden Ali, with
his love and understanding of horses, knew that only to the sagacity of
the animal could the safe negotiation of the dangerous descent down the
hillside be left. He gave Sooltan his head.
There is no danger in it, goodness knows, when you bestride a
diminutive donkey whose dainty little feet know every pebble on the
route, but there is danger when an animal like Sooltan takes the Avenue
of Sphinxes at a mad rush and slips and slithers and slides, under the
impetus of his own weight, pace and terror, the rest of the way, even
if he is as sure-footed as a goat.
* * * * * *
Later, when her beloved child wakened the night-porter, Jane Coop, blue
with anxiety and cold, most unhygienically closed the window and
thankfully padded off to her comfortable bed.
CHAPTER XXII
"_Antiquity! thou wondrous charm, what art
thou? that being nothing art everything! . . . .
The mighty future is as nothing, being
everything! the past is everything, being nothing!"
LAMB.
In spite of her tongue, which was somewhat unduly inclined to gossip,
Lady Thistleton was a motherly old soul and had a great affection for
Damaris.
". . . I should not like either of my little girls," she was saying the
morning after the visit to the Terrace Temple, "to visit the ruins or
stay out unchaperoned after dark. I am responsible for you, you know,
dear, and you are very beautiful and very young. Of course I know that
you are a little unhappy, dear, but other girls have been the same. So
you must not worry. Everything will come right. I expect you know all
about my Ellen." Damaris nodded. "And everybody is so fond of you.
Would you like to have a long day in bed to-day, dear, or go to
Denderah with the girls? They are thinking of staying for a few days."
Damaris smiled the radiant smile which made her so attractive, and,
rising, put her arms round the motherly old dear's neck and kissed her,
which was an unusual thing for her to do, as she was, as a rule,
undemonstrative to coldness.
"I'd love to go to Denderah, if I may take Janie and Wellington. And
I'm truly not worrying; it's just a tremendous spirit of adventure
which drives me to do these awful things."
So to Denderah she went, with her spirits at highest pitch at the
thought of getting away from Luxor for a few days and of seeing the
wonderful Temple of Hathor, the goddess of Joy and Youth.
She was in riotous spirits when she arrived at the Hotel Denderah in
Kulla, where the lovely porous jugs come from; in fact, so blithe was
she that Ellen, inclined to despondency and of a superstitious
tendency, remarked:
"I should calm myself a little, my dear Damaris; such gaiety can only
lead to depression, later on."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|