As thou saidst, I am but a woman.
Only--_act_! That is the message of the sand. And now, unless thou
wouldst have my dead body finish the journey in the bassour, take me to
my tent."
Maieddine took her to the tent. And he asked no more questions. But all
night he thought of what M'Barka had said, and the message of the sand.
It was a dangerous message, yet the counsel was after his own heart.
XXX
In the morning he was still brooding over the message; and as they
travelled through the black desert on the way to Ghardaia and the hidden
cities of the M'Zab, he fell into long silences. Then, abruptly, he
would rouse himself to gaiety and animation, telling old legends or new
tales, strange dramas of the desert, very seldom comedies; for there are
few comedies in the Sahara, except for the children.
Sometimes he was in danger of speaking out words which said themselves
over and over in his head. "If I 'wait too long, I may wait for ever.'
Then, by Allah, I will not wait." But he kept his tongue in control,
though his brain was hot as if he wore no turban, under the blaze of the
sun. "I will leave things as they are while we are in this black
Gehenna," he determined. "What is written is written. Yet who has seen
the book of the writing? And there is a curse on all this country, till
the M'Zab is passed."
After Bou-Saada, he had gradually forgotten, or almost forgotten, his
fears. He had been happy in the consciousness of power that came to him
from the desert, where he was at home, and Europeans were helpless
strangers.
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