Bedouin Love

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

Jim was in two minds as to whether to spend the night in this somewhat forbidding house, or to proceed upon his way; and he therefore asked only for a bottle of wine, at the same time inviting his host to drink a glass with him. The man accepted the invitation with alacrity, and, disappearing into the echoing house, soon returned with the bottle. He hesitated, however, before drawing the cork, and diffidently mentioned the price, whereupon Jim put his hand in his pocket and drew forth his loose change. The wrinkles deepened on the man’s forehead as he gazed at the money, and an expression of disappointment passed over his face; for the coins did not amount to the sum named. Jim, however, smilingly reassured him, and produced his roll of notes, from which he selected one, asking whether his host could change it. At this the man’s face showed his satisfaction, and he hastened to uncork the bottle, thereafter fetching the change and sitting down to enjoy the wine with every token of brotherly love.

For some time they talked, and it was very soon apparent that the innkeeper was of the braggart type. He had once been in the army, and he described with great gusto his gallant exploits and feats of arms, relating also his affairs of the heart, and telling how once he fought a duel and killed his man for the sake of a girl who was in no wise worthy of him. Jim listened with amusement, and presently, in answer to his host’s questions, he explained that he himself was merely a mild Englishman, and that he was walking from village to village along the coast by way of a holiday. This statement was received with frank astonishment, and led to a further series of inquiries, to which Jim replied with amused volubility, pointing out the delights of a wandering life, and speaking of the pleasures of a state of incognito, when hearth and home are temporarily abandoned, and nobody knows whither one has disappeared. The innkeeper listened with evident interest, looking at him searchingly from time to time as he talked, and forgetting to boast or even drink his wine, as he sat with folded arms and wrinkled brow, staring out to sea.

The sun was setting when at length Jim rose to his feet to consider whether he should proceed or should stay the night where he was. His legs felt weary, however; and when his host presently made the suggestion that he should inspect the guest-chamber upstairs, Jim was quickly persuaded to do so, and, finding it quite habitable, at once decided to remain until morning.

The innkeeper thereupon retired into the back premises to prepare a meal, and Jim sauntered down to the beach to enjoy the cool of the dusk. Climbing over the promontory of smooth, rounded rocks, to one of which the rowing-boat was moored, he pulled the little craft towards him by its rope, and, scrambling into it, sat for some time handling the oars and gazing down into the water. It was very pleasant to ride here upon the gently moving swell, listening to the quiet surge of the waves upon the shore, and watching the fading colours of the sky; and when, in the dim light, he saw his host appear at the doorway of the house, looking about him for his guest, he stepped back on to the rocks with lazy reluctance.

The fare presently provided in the front room was rough but appetizing, and when the meal was finished he returned once more to the table outside, where he found his host seated with three other men, for whom, after a ceremonious introduction, Jim called for another bottle of wine. The appearance of these other guests, however, was not pleasant: they looked, in fact, as disreputable a gang of cut-throats as ever sat round a guttering candle; and once or twice he thought he observed upon the innkeeper’s face an expression something like that of apology.

Nevertheless, the party remained talking, and their host continued his bragging, far into the night, for it seemed that all of them were to sleep at the inn; and it was midnight before Jim made his salutations and was lighted up to his room by the owner of the house.

As soon as he was alone he went to the open window, and stared out into the darkness. The sky was brilliant with stars which were reflected in the sea, whose rhythmic sobbing came to his ears; but he could only dimly discern the rocks and the little rowing-boat, and the line of the beach was lost in the indigo of the night. For some time he stood deep in thought; but at length, of a sudden, a feeling of apprehension entered his mind, and, returning into the candlelight, he remained for a while irresolute in the middle of the room.

The sensation, however, presently passed; but in order to occupy his thoughts he drew from his pocket an unused picture-postcard, which he had purchased on the previous day, and performed the much postponed duty of writing a line to his wife, telling her shortly that he was well. He addressed the card to her and laid it aside, with the intention of posting it at some obscure village whose name upon the postmark would convey nothing to Dolly. Then, seating himself upon the side of the bed, he prepared to undress.

As he stooped to unlace his boots the tremor of apprehension returned to him, and for some moments he sat perfectly still, looking at the candle, and wondering at his unfamiliar nervousness. “I suppose,” he thought to himself, “I have been too long in the shelter of Eversfield, and have grown unaccustomed to the ordinary circumstances of the wanderer’s life.”

Then, like a sudden flash, the recollection came to him that the innkeeper had seen his roll of notes, and that the man knew him to be an unattached wayfarer, and consequently fair game for robbery or even murder. The thought set his heart beating in a manner which shamed him; and, though he fought against it resolutely, he permitted himself, nevertheless, to creep over to the door and to slide the clumsy bolt into its socket. He then felt in his pocket to assure himself that his matches were at hand; and, having placed the candle by his bedside, he blew out the light and prepared himself for an uncomfortable night.