“It is the effect of the sand in the air, beloved,” he whispered, “under the moon which shines for all lovers.”
“Look at that wave out there”—she pointed to the east as she spoke—“breaking into spray. How wonderful—how wonderful it all is, Ra!”
“I expect a big rock lies just there, beloved, if we could only see it, so that the sand is blown against it and higher into the air. How I love the name you have given me, dearest; it seems to belong to the country where I found you waiting for me, all those months ago, alone, in the desert, under a moon like this.”
“I really expect it was the same moon, Ra; it is only we who have moved,” laughed Helen softly. “Yes, I think your nickname suits you; it’s strong, with the strength of dead Egypt, like you, with your tremendous will power which can even dominate the camel.”
They laughed as they talked of the long journey with its scenes and contretemps, during which Ralph Trenchard had had to exercise every bit of will power and every scrap of patience he possessed, so as to triumph over the splendid camels which composed the caravan, and which had aroused admiration and no little jealousy in the hearts of the inhabitants of the different villages they had passed through, from the Port of Jiddah to Hutah in the Oasis of Hareek.
“Do you remember when Mahli ate Grandad’s best tussore coat and pretended to die, and then, suddenly, got to her feet and rushed at you, because you offered Duria a whole lump of dates and took no notice of her in her tantrums?”
“Sheer jealousy and greed, sweetheart. I believe no woman who loved could be as jealous, or as vindictive, as a female camel in a rage. Look straight ahead, beloved; can you see something moving through the waves?”
Helen sat forward and stared due south.
“Yes, I think—I do. Yes, it looks like mounted men.” She shivered suddenly and turned and caught her lover by the arm. “Ra! I’m frightened.”
“Frightened! Dear heart, what at?”