‘Very, but true.’
‘Well! you are welcome! Share our fare; ‘tis rough, and somewhat scanty; but we have feasted, and may feast again. Fled into Egypt, eh?’
‘Ay! Sir.’
‘Schirene, shouldst like to see the Nile?’
‘I have heard of crocodiles.’
If the presence of Kisloch and his companions were not very pleasing to Alroy, with the rest of the band they soon became great favourites. Their local knowledge, and their experience of desert life, made them valuable allies, and their boisterous jocularity and unceasing merriment were not unwelcome in the present monotonous existence of the fugitives. As for Alroy himself, he meditated an escape to Egypt. He determined to seize the first opportunity of procuring some camels, and then, dispersing his band, with the exception of Benaiah and a few faithful retainers, he trusted that, disguised as merchants, they might succeed in crossing Syria, and entering Africa by Palestine. With these plans and prospects, he became each day more cheerful and more sanguine as to the future. He had in his possession some valuable jewels, which he calculated upon disposing of at Cairo for a sum sufficient for all his purposes; and having exhausted all the passions of life while yet a youth, he looked forward to the tranquil termination of his existence in some poetic solitude with his beautiful companion.
One evening, as they returned from the Oasis, Alroy guiding the camel that bore Schirene, and ever and anon looking up in her inspiring face, her sanguine spirit would have indulged in a delightful future.
‘Thus shall we pass the desert, sweet,’ said Schirene. ‘Can this be toil?’
‘There is no toil with love,’ replied Alroy.
‘And we were made for love, and not for empire,’ rejoined Schirene.