"I think that you acted very much like—like Robin Hartley," replied Harold smiling, but it was too dark for the smile to be seen.
"That is to say, a foolish, thoughtless fellow, who will grow grey before he learns to grow wise! You should have had a more sensible brother."
"I'm very well contented with my lot, dear old boy!" laughed Harold; and he thought to himself, "I would not exchange my honest true-hearted Robin for any other brother in the world!"
[CHAPTER XXV.]
CONCLUSION.
IT is unnecessary to detail the incidents in a rather monotonous journey, for one made with camels is necessarily slow. The desert wandering was not even broken in upon by an attack from Bedouin Arabs, though a sharp look-out was kept against them. Yet, though slow, neither the Hartley brothers nor Ali found the journey dull. Long interesting conversations beguiled the way, religion being the most frequent topic. Robin rejoiced that the Persian had now beside him one so far better able to instruct him in spiritual matters than he himself ever had been. Robin rather wondered how it could be that though Ali held the deepest converse with Harold, he should evidently retain the strongest affection for the youth whom he first had known.
Shelah, perched on her camel, enlivened the way by her bird-like songs. The child lived much more in the present than in either the future or the past. She looked out for ostriches, which she never saw, and her greatest disappointment was that of not finding one of their eggs on the sands.
One day Shelah, who was in advance, shouted so loudly and so gleefully, clapping her hands as she did so, that she attracted the attention of Robin.
"What is it Lammikin,—what are you looking at? Another mirage?" he inquired.
"The sea! The sea!" cried the child, with delight.