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Page 83
All night long they had steamed, a search-light on the bow, and
Arlee had lain in the little stateroom trying to sleep, but
continually aware of the breathing of the old woman huddled outside
against her door, of the soft thudding of bare feet about the deck,
of the pulse of the engine, beating, beating steadily, and of quick,
muffled commands, of reversals, grinding of chains as some
treacherous shallow appeared ahead, then of the onward drive and the
steady rhythmic progress again.
Where were they taking her? South to some haunt where she would be
farther than ever from the civilization which had flowed so
unheedingly past that old palace of darkened windows, south toward
the strange native cities and tiny villages and the grain fields
and the deserts. But it was all better than that stifling palace and
the absence of the Captain gave her a sense of temporary security.
Sunday had been hot and dry, but this Monday was cooler and the
north wind, blowing freshly over the wide Nile, broke the
amber-brown of the water into little waves of sparkling blue edged
with silver ripples. The river was beautiful to her, even in her
sorry plight, and to-day there were little clouds in the sky,
furtive, scuddy little clouds with wind-teased edges, and they cast
soft shadows over the river and over the tender green of the fields
and the flat, mirroring water standing level in the trenches. In the
fields brown men and women were working, and on the river banks the
half-naked figures of _fellaheen_ were ceaselessly bending,
ceaselessly straightening, as they dipped up the water from the
_shadoufs_ to feed the thirsty land. Sometimes in the fields Arlee
saw the red rusty bulk of the old engines, which the Mad Khedive had
tried to install among his people, to do away with this
back-breaking work, now lying useless and ignored. God forbid that
we do otherwise than our fathers, said the people.
Across the water came the monotonous chant of their labor song, and
sometimes the creak and squeak of some inland well-sweep drawn round
and round by some patient camel. She felt herself to be in another
world, as she sat in that boat guarded by that old woman and an
eunuch, a world strange and remote, yet desperately real as it
enmeshed her in its secret motives, its incalculable forces....
As she watched, as the surface of her mind reflected these sights
and was caught in the maze of fresh impressions, the back of that
mind was forever at work on her own terrifying problem. She thought
confidently of escape, not able to plan it but waiting intently upon
opportunity, upon the passing of a boat perhaps, or the moment of
tying to some bank.
There was in her a high spirit of undaunted pluck and an excitement
in adventure, which made her heart quicken instead of flag at the
odds before her. Only the thought of the desperate stakes and the
reality of her hidden fears would often draw the color from her
cheeks and stop an instant the beating of that hurrying heart.... If
those hawk-like eyes were watching then they might see the slim
hands pressed feverishly together before warning self-control turned
them lax again.
So hour after hour the boat went on. On the left now the long
mountain of Gebel-el-Tayr stretched golden and tawny like a lion of
stone basking in the sun. They passed Beni-Hassan, where a Nile
steamer lay staked to the shore, the passengers streaming gaily out
and starting off on donkeys for an excursion to the tombs. If only
it had been a little nearer, close enough to risk a desperate
hail--! But the very sight of it was comforting.
Toward dusk the engine failed. That night the boat lay by the bank,
tied to long stakes which the boys had driven in. The big Nubian sat
at one end, cross-legged, a rifle on his knees. At the stern sat a
brown boy. And so Arlee sank into the tired sleep that claimed her,
and did not wake until the warm sunshine in her tiny window and the
ripple of water against the sides told her that another morning was
at hand and that they were on the move again.
Stepping out on deck for breakfast, she found the boat was sailing.
Two _lanteen_ sails were hoisted; a great one in the bow, a small
one in the stern, and the boat was running swiftly before the north
wind that blew fresher than ever. But the course was variable now as
the river curved and as sand-banks threatened, and Arlee watched the
waters eagerly for a near-passing boat. But when they did draw close
to a _dahabiyeh_ upon whose deck she saw some white-clad loungers,
the Nubian gave a low order to the old woman who rose and gripped
Arlee on the wrist and led her to the stateroom, sitting in silence
opposite her like a squat gargoyle, till the Nubian's voice
permitted them to emerge.
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