A few minutes later he had left her with a kindly good-bye, and a recommendation to take things easy as he did. As she walked up and down the verandah waiting for Philip's arrival, she asked herself more than once whether it would not be wiser to follow John's advice. Now that the last chance of remedy was over for the present, why should she give herself the pain of acknowledging that she condemned her husband's action? Drifting this way and that in the current of thought, as many another thing swept from its moorings was drifting in the floods beneath her eyes, she had reached no certain conclusion when the even tread of the horse, which they had sent to meet Philip, brought her back to action with a strange dread of herself. He was beside her in an instant and though she had worded her telegram so as to avoid anxiety, it was clearly evident in his face.
"Well, what is it?" he said, still holding her outstretched hand of welcome, and looking into her face curiously.
"Nothing," she answered hurriedly; "nothing in the least important. Only--I wanted to see you. Come in; you must be tired, that beast has such rough paces; I would have sent Suleimân, but he is lame. Come in, tea is ready."
So she ran on, and Philip, who, to say sooth, had been on tenter-hooks ever since the receipt of her summons, had to fall into her mood, not without a certain sense of injury. But the pleasure of being within touch of her hand and sight of her face was irresistible, so that the following hours seemed to take him back to the most perfect memory of his whole life, to that evening at Saudaghur which he and she had spent together in thoughtless, unreasoning content. Perhaps this memory cast its glamour over Belle likewise; certain it is that something beat down and overwhelmed all thought and care. John, coming in almost late for lunch, found them laughing over the last week's "Punch" which Philip had brought with him; and taking his cue quickly, if with some contemptuous surprise, dropped his serious air and became the genial host. Never was there a gayer or more light-hearted trio; but outside the house the clear promise of the morning had dulled to a yellow haze, and every now and again a swirl of dust swept past, making the yellow deeper.
"In for the first andi[[8]] of the season," said John Raby standing by the window. "The natives say it is a sign of a healthy year to have a dust-storm early. More good luck, you see, Belle! There is nothing like keeping a calm sough, and trusting to Providence. Doesn't it make you feel 'heavenly calm,' Marsden, to be here in this jolly room and know that outside, in all that dust and pother, the elements are working together for your good?"
Philip laughed. "I feel very well content, thank you. The comfort of contrast always appeals to my selfish nature."
"Hark to that, Belle! I'll never believe in Philip's saintship again," cried her husband triumphantly. "Well, I must be off; there was the tiniest crumble in the dam, and I must get my bandits to work on it before dark. By the way, Marsden, Afzul said he was coming to see you this afternoon. If so, sit on him. The beggar has been half mutinous of late. Faugh! what an atmosphere; but I dare say it will be better outside."
"How well he is looking," said Philip, as he watched the figure disappearing through the haze. "I wish I could see you do more credit to the 'heavenly calm.'" He made the remark lightly enough, thinking only of his first glance at her when he arrived; a glance which had prompted his swift inquiry as to what was the matter. But he was startled out of all save surprise by the look on her face as she turned towards him from the window.
"Heavenly calm!" she echoed almost wildly. "Yes, for you and for me, and for him; but for the others? You asked me, and I said nothing was the matter. It was a lie, everything is the matter! Outside there, in the dust,--" as she spoke the hand she had laid on his arm in her vehemence tightened to a clutch, her eyes fixed themselves on something. "John!" she cried. "He is coming back, running! Oh, what is it? what is it?"
Almost before he could grasp her meaning the door burst open, and John Raby was back in the room, calm for all his excitement. "Quick, Marsden, quick! get your revolver,--the fools are at the dam! There's treachery, and not a moment to lose! Quick, man, quick!"