Moors who had come by caravan from the interior of the Soudan stood round in circles looking on, with their camels, leather sacks, piles of miscellaneous baggage, and their pretty young wives.
Towards three o’clock the whole flotilla, which was to proceed up the river as far as Dialdé in Galam, was groaning under its freight of men. It got under way in appalling heat.
X
St Louis was receding into the distance.... Its level outlines sank lower, fading away until they were mere bluish streaks upon the golden sand.... On either side of the river, stretching away until lost to sight, lay vast, unhealthy desert plains, everlastingly hot, everlastingly dreary....
And these tracts were but the approach to this great God-forsaken country—the vestibule of the immense solitudes of Africa....
Jean and the other spahis were embarked on the Falémé, which led the flotilla, and was presently a two days’ voyage ahead of the other vessels.
In the very moment of departure Jean had written a hurried reply to poor old Françoise. After consideration, he had decided that he would not deign to write to his betrothed, but in his letter to his mother he had put his whole soul into the task of comforting her, and restoring peace and hope to her mind.
“After all,” he had written, “she was too rich for us. We shall have no difficulty in finding some other girl at home who will have me. We will arrange to live in our old house, and then we shall be nearer to you than ever. My dear parents, I think of nothing all day long but the joy of seeing you once more, and I swear that I will never, never leave you again....”
Such, to be sure, was his intention, and it was true that he thought of his dear old parents every day. But the idea of sharing his life with a woman other than Jeanne took the brightness out of everything. It was a terrible thought, which cast a dense, mourning veil upon the joy of his return....