“I really must go back to Lady Haigh now,” said Cecil, at last. “Azim Bey will begin to suspect something.”
Charlie’s reply was a remark not complimentary to Azim Bey.
“And I haven’t seen you really since Christmas,” he went on—“not properly, I mean. You keep me alive on very little crumbs of hope, Cecil, and when the time comes for fulfilment you just give me some more crumbs. I did think I should get a good talk with you to-day, but I haven’t told you anything of all that I wanted to say. Now don’t tell me I can say it next Sunday, for you know we get scarcely any time together then.”
“Poor boy! why don’t you talk faster, and get more into the time?” laughed Cecil, rising from her seat, and sending a little shower of petals falling as the flower-laden boughs brushed her head. “I am sure you have wasted a good deal of time to-day.”
“Because I wanted to look at you, and not to talk,” said Charlie, and they both laughed, much to Azim Bey’s disgust. Then Cecil’s veil caught in something as she rearranged it (it was a most inconvenient garment that veil, continually catching in things), and Charlie had to disentangle it—a lengthy process, which made the onlooker more angry still. Charlie caught Cecil’s hand in his once and kissed it, and Azim Bey made bitter remarks in his own mind on the foolishness of lovers.
“We must come,” said Cecil again. “Just think how very embarrassing it would be if Azim Bey took it into his head to come and look for me.”
“I don’t care,” said Charlie. “What does he signify?”
“I don’t think you would be able to get much talk if he was here listening to every word,” said Cecil. “Now, Charlie, please don’t, please! I have just made myself tidy, and I must get my gloves on.”
“I’ll put them on for you,” said Charlie, kindly, but the offer was declined with thanks. The pair passed out of the little cleared spot in the woods, so close to Azim Bey that Cecil’s dress almost brushed him as she went by, and when they were out of sight he rose and made a circuit through the grounds, so as to come upon the picnic-party from an opposite direction. Lady Haigh had discovered her charge’s absence by this time, and was in dire dismay about him; but his appearance and his unruffled demeanour reassured her, for she could not guess that his heart was so full of rage and fury that he could scarcely bring himself to speak civilly to any one. It was a triumph of oriental dissimulation which enabled him to keep cool, and no one ever suspected that he had done more than search the grounds for Cecil and had not found her. The rest of the day passed calmly enough, and Azim Bey kept close to Cecil’s side, and conversed graciously, and behaved like a civilised and well-brought-up young gentleman, while all the time he was planning vengeance in his mind.
The sun began to approach the horizon at last, and the party, hosts and guests alike, prepared to return to the city. Torches were lighted, the tents hastily taken down and rolled up with the carpets, and while these were being taken on board the steam-launch the donkeys belonging to the Palace party were brought round. Azim Bey was in a great hurry to start, being anxious to prevent long leave-takings. He mounted quickly, although this process was usually a lengthy and dignified one, and waited impatiently for Cecil. So impatient was he that he started before she was properly mounted, and she would have fallen had not Charlie caught her in his arms. Boiling over with rage, Charlie gave her into Lady Haigh’s care, and confronted Azim Bey, who had returned in some alarm.