Burning Sands

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

He slept by night upon the top of the spur of rock above his tents; and here on his camp bed, under the warm blankets, he would lie absorbed in the splendour of the stars until sleep carried him outside the range of astronomy. As the first shafts of the morning sun struck upon him from above the eastern horizon, he would cast the blankets from him, and, full of the joy of vigorous life, would clamber down to his camp, there to bathe and dress himself in the keen air of the morning, and to devour his breakfast in the brilliant sunshine at the door of his tent.

Here in his beloved desert any anxieties which the day might bring were wholly banished from his brain; and each morning he took up his duties with a mind purged and washed clean of the dust of yesterday, enlivened by healthy sleep and vigorous exercise, and, above all, renewed in its unity with the everlasting Wisdom. It was as though his mighty hands were clasped in the mightier hands of that Spirit which dwells in the world’s open spaces; and, if he strayed during his work into tangled paths of disquietude, he stepped back, as it were, with the descending sun into the grasp of the unfailing Friend.

In one particular there was especial need of this refreshment and renewal; for his thoughts were often disturbed in regard to his friendship with Lady Muriel. He was sufficiently frank with himself to realize that as the days passed he was growing more interested in her, and at the same time he was well aware that any such interest was likely to lead to discordance and unrest; for her method of life so greatly differed from his own.

Muriel was having what she called “a good time”; and the argument “eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” was ever ready upon her lips. There was a sort of defiance in her attitude to Daniel, and sometimes as she set out upon some new chase of amusement she seemed to be daring him to stop her.

On a certain evening in Christmas-week this challenge had been particularly evident. He had stayed on at the Residency until past seven o’clock, for there had been an attempted assassination of one of the native ministers, and Daniel had at once set himself to get to the bottom of the trouble; and when at last he was crossing the hall on his way out, he had come upon Muriel descending the staircase, dressed for a dinner-party and dance which was being given at Mena House that evening. Her luxurious automobile was standing at the door, and she had, of course, offered to give him a lift.

Sitting by her side under the electric light in the car, he had been more than ever conscious of the dissimilarity of their views of life. It was not that he disapproved of her enjoyments, but rather that he regretted the absence of all attempt on her part to get below the surface of things. She was satisfied by her pursuit of the pleasures of what is called Society; and the trouble was that she had caused him to be dissatisfied with his own more profound search after happiness.

In his rough clothes he had seemed to be so far removed from this exquisite dainty girl beside him, around whose white throat the pearls glistened, and from whose gold-tasseled cloak of blue velvet there came the faint scent of the lotus; and the disturbing fact had been this—that he had been intoxicated by the fragrance of her, and the touch of her arm against his. He had wanted to command her to abandon her friends and to follow him into the desert; and suddenly he had been aware that the expression in her eyes was one of disdain for the hardihood that he loved.

As they had driven up to the gates of the hotel he had called her attention to his camel which awaited him at the roadside, in charge of a silent native, who now raised his hand to his dazzled eyes as the headlights of the car fell upon him.

“Now confess,” she had said, “that you would rather be coming with me into the comfort of the hotel than bumping off on that great beast into the cold bleak desert.”

“I confess I would rather be with you tonight than alone,” he answered, “but not in the hotel. I don’t like noise and clatter and stuffiness.”