Over and over again he asked himself whether she would turn from him when he came to her now, or whether she would forgive and be forgiven. He was feeling mentally and physically tired, yet he found no respite from his dark thoughts as he jogged along; and when at last he came into sight of Cairo and the Pyramids he was nigh exhausted by his anxiety to know what was to be his fate.
He reached his old camping-ground at about three o’clock in the afternoon, and in a short time one of the tents had been erected, wherein he was able to have a wash and a change of clothes. He then left his retainers to pitch the other tents and to arrange the camp, and, mounting his camel once more, rode to Mena House, where he boarded the electric tram for Cairo.
Weary though he was, he was desperately impatient to find Muriel and to get this matter settled at once. Nothing else was of the slightest importance.
At the terminus of the tramway he jumped into a carriage, calling to the coachman to drive “like the wind” to the Residency; and, arrived there, he handed to the bowab at the gate a generous sum, telling him to keep the driver waiting for a good half-hour before paying him off, so that the sweating horses should have a rest after their exertions.
In the hall he asked a footman whether Lord Blair were in, and was surprised to hear that he had not yet returned from the Sudan. Lady Muriel, he was told, was in the garden with Lord Barthampton: the man thought that they were in the alcove beside the river. Mr. and Mrs. Bindane were out driving, and the Secretaries had all gone home.
Daniel hastened through the house, and out by the door at the back. His legs were aching, but he went down the stone steps of the terrace two at a time, and hurried across the lawn, his heart full of foreboding. He could not understand why Muriel should be entertaining his cousin.
At the rose bushes which screened the alcove, however, he paused; for the thought came to him with renewed terror that he might be an unwelcome visitor.
But, even as he came to a halt, he heard his cousin’s voice, and for a moment he could not help playing the eavesdropper.
“Yes,” he was saying, “you’ll have to marry me, or I shall tell all I know, and then there’ll be a fine old scandal. Come on, now, give me a kiss.”
Daniel did not wait to hear more, but ran round the bushes on to the terrace beyond. At a glance he took in the situation. Lord Barthampton, his back turned to him, was endeavouring to take Muriel in his arms; and from behind the screen of his burly form, the girl’s figure was partly visible, struggling to escape.