In the azure crucible diamonds were melting, boiling up in a
radiant spray, but suddenly the violet splendour was cooled, and after a
vague quivering of rainbow tints, the celestial rose tree of the Sahara
sunset climbed blossoming over the whole blue dome, east, west, north
and south.
In the bottom of the golden bowl, there was a river bed to cross, on a
bridge of planks, but among the burning stones trickled a mere runnel of
water, bright as spilt mercury. And Maieddine chose the moment when the
minarets of El Aghouat rose from a sea of palms, to point out the
strange, pale hills crowned by old koubbahs of marabouts and the
military hospital. He told the story of the Arab revolt of fifty odd
years ago; and while he praised the gallantry of the French, Victoria
saw in his eyes, heard in the thrill of his voice, that his admiration
was for his own people. This made her thoughtful, for though it was
natural enough to sympathize with the Arabs who had stood the siege and
been reconquered after desperate fighting, until now his point of view
had seemed to be the modern, progressive, French point of view. Quickly
the question flashed through her mind--"Is he letting himself go,
showing me his real self, because I'm in the desert with him, and he
thinks I'll never go back among Europeans?"
She shivered a little at the thought, but she put it away with the doubt
of Maieddine that came with it. Never had he given her the least cause
to fear him, and she would go on trusting in his good faith, as she had
trusted from the first.
Pages:
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315