“I was, and am still”—replied Irene gently, “and in yourself also.”
Féraz, or “Brother Sebastian” as he was now called, made another gentle salutation expressive of gratitude, and then turned his eyes questioningly on the other members of the party.
“You will not need to be reminded of Sir Frederick Vaughan and Lady Vaughan,”—went on Irene,—then as these exchanged greetings, she added—“This gentleman whom you do not know is the Duke of Strathlea,—we have made the journey from England in his yacht, and——” she hesitated a moment, the colour deepening a little in her fair cheeks—“he is a great friend of mine.”
Féraz glanced at her once,—then once at Strathlea, and a grave smile softened his pensive face. He extended his hand with a frank cordiality that was charming, and Strathlea pressed it warmly, fascinated by the extreme beauty and dignity of this youthful ascetic, sworn to the solitariness of the religious life ere he had touched his manhood’s prime.
“And how is El-Râmi?” asked Sir Frederick with good-natured bluffness—“My cousin Melthorpe was much distressed to hear what had happened,—and so were we all,—really—a terrible calamity—but you know overstudy will upset a man,—it’s no use doing too much——”
He broke off his incoherent remarks abruptly, embarrassed a little by the calmly mournful gaze of “Brother Sebastian’s” deep dark eyes.
“You are very good, Sir Frederick,”—he said gently—“I am sure you sympathise truly, and I thank you all for your sympathy. But—I am not sure that I should be sorrowful for my brother’s seeming affliction. God’s will has been made manifest in this, as in other things,—and we must needs accept that will without complaint. For the rest, El-Râmi is well,—and not only well, but happy. Let me take you to him.”
They hesitated,—all except Irene. Lady Vaughan was a nervous creature,—she had a very vivid remembrance of El-Râmi’s “terrible eyes”—they looked fiery enough when he was sane,—but how would they look now when he was ... mad? She moved uneasily,—her husband pulled his long moustache doubtfully as he studied her somewhat alarmed countenance,—and Féraz, glancing at the group, silently understood the situation.
“Will you come with me, Madame?” he said, addressing himself solely to Irene—“It is better perhaps that you should see him first alone. But he will not distress you ... he is quite harmless ... poor El-Râmi!”
In spite of himself his voice trembled,—and Irene’s warm heart swelled for sympathy.