"Oh, I can't stop on this horrible beast; he is growling like a tiger! He will bite me! He will kill me!" expostulated Miss Petty, her entreaties changed to a scream as the camel suddenly rose and, by the tremendous jerk with which he did so, almost threw her off his back.
The motion of a camel has been likened to that which would be felt by one perched on a music-stool unscrewed to its utmost height, and drawn along in a cart without springs. Miss Petty implored the Arab to stop the beast, jerking out her words, as the jolting almost deprived her of power of speech. But she might as well have spoken to the camel itself. The Bedouin did not understand her words, nor would have cared for them had he understood. Little Shelah was sobbing, her spirit for a while subdued by fear and physical distress, for every mile of that terrible journey made the heat, and thirst, and fatigue, which she endured, more painful to the poor child.
And what of the other captives? What was the effect upon them of their sudden and startling adventure?
Harold met the misfortune as a brave man and a Christian should do. He saw hardship and danger before him, but the one was a thing to be calmly endured, the other fearlessly faced. He was a crusader, prepared for perilous service, a knight of the Cross, and it was not for him to choose his own post; if his Commander appointed that he should serve and suffer in Arabia instead of India, it was not for him to question that Leader's wisdom or goodness.
Harold, mounted on a tall camel, and journeying over what seemed to him to be a pathless desert, was calmly revolving in his mind how it might be possible to do mission work even amongst Bedouin Arabs, to whom, under ordinary circumstances, no herald of the Gospel might have access. True, Harold had not much knowledge of the Arabic language, but he would have opportunity for acquiring more; an open door was before him, it was not for a Knight of St. John to shrink from crossing the threshold, even should martyrdom lie beyond. Harold had been committing to memory a portion of St. John's First Epistle in Arabic; he had, by steady toil, reached the fourteenth verse of the second chapter, and the last clause in that verse was as a special message of encouragement to him: "I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the Word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome the wicked one."
Harold Hartley was strong in faith: he had, indeed, fallen back in his school-boy days; the pride of life had then chilled his missionary zeal, and he had, in the excitement of an election, even made a personal attack on a political opponent who had provoked him, and so had got into serious trouble. But that fall had been a turning-point in the life of Harold.
During his college career, malice itself could not find a stain on the character of young Hartley. He had passed through temptations—and had overcome them; he had been looked upon by the religiously disposed fellows of his college as a leader in all that was good. Harold's faith was already as gold tried in the fire; he wore the white cross unstained.
Robin was a great deal younger than his brother, and, partly from his youth, partly from the joyous buoyancy of his spirits, the lad did not take nearly as serious a view of the situation of affairs as was taken by Harold. Had he not felt some anxiety regarding his widowed friend, Robin would have been inclined to regard the capture of the party as a very exciting and amusing adventure. It was something to be talked over and laughed over in future days; for Robin, full of hope as well as of daring, felt no doubt that the strange captivity, which had overtaken him and his companions, would be of but brief duration. Robin did not calculate, he simply hoped; for Robin was naturally full of hope as well as of daring.
What was misery to Theresa Petty was, at first, little more than a frolic to Robin Hartley. The jolting, which had the effect of making her scream, had but the effect of making him laugh. This was Robin's first camel ride, but he hoped to have many others. "I am practising for itinerating in India amongst the villages with my father and brother," thought Robin to himself. He shouted out words of encouragement to the weeping Lammikin, who was in front at no great distance, and bade Miss Petty keep a good heart.
Grace Evendale's position was different from that of the rest of the party; she had less physical strength than the others, and the heat of the sun, constantly increasing as the day advanced, was deadly to the delicate lady; she was withering even as a flower withers under the fiery beams. The rough motion of the camel also greatly tried Mrs. Evendale's sensitive frame, and caused her acute suffering. Yet the meek Christian was not really unhappy, though she felt that the end of the painful journey would probably be the grave.