“Ready!” he laughed. “It is for thee to order. By Allah, we will go to Gebel Câf if thou desire it.”
He smote his donkey, and they jogged along once more, out through new suburbs to the open fields. The sun was an armed foe, the dust a persecutor; her habbarah and face-veil made a sheath of fire. The donkey-boy kept looking at her with compassion, smiling encouragement whenever he could meet her gaze. He thought her mad, and so indulged her fancy, assuring her that it would not take long to reach the sea. But when she murmured of the heat and wished to rest, he showed immense relief.
“That is the best,” he cried. “Wait till I find some pleasant shade for thee. See, yonder is a tree. There thou shalt rest till the great heat is past, and then, at thy command, we can resume the journey.”
Dismounting under leaves, she sank upon the ground and wept despairingly. The tears, which bitter grief had failed to wring from her, flowed freely for her impotence. Escape was hopeless. Her project now appeared the last absurdity. The change of clothes, the change of manners, now presented difficulties which she felt that she would never have the strength to overcome. The donkey-boy’s consoling words, his friendly grin, were teasing. She sent him to fetch water from a village near at hand. He came back with a pitcher and two slabs of bread; which so revived her spirit that she once more saw beyond the moment and conceived a plan.
She would wait till nightfall and then seek the city of the dead, to die on her son’s grave, if Allah willed it. At least she would spend all the night in prayer imploring Allah’s mercy for him in the name of Christ.
She had sat a long while, cross-legged, gazing straight before her, her hands locked in her lap, when a soft voice disturbed her. The donkey-boy was plucking at her sleeve.
“The heat is spent,” he told her. “Best be moving! It is back into the city,—not so?—thy command? Much better than to journey to the sea, like this, without provision. Say, which way?”
Barakah pointed a direction listlessly. She had no wish to enter Cairo before dark, so chose a long way round, among the fields.
Soon the sunset reddened all the plain, stretching their shadows far before them on the dyke. The citadel upon its height was hotly flushed one minute, the next ash-grey and lifeless like a skull. It lived in her imagination as a monstrous spider which held her with its web and drew her in.
The donkey-boy beside her prattled ceaselessly.