“He is so busy that he was obliged to send his apologies, and allow us the honour of escorting you instead of coming to fetch you himself,” said Stratford, in tones which were absolutely devoid of any suggestion of ulterior meaning.
“Oh!” said Georgia, blankly.
“He found himself compelled to hold a full-dress review of his detachment, or inspect their kits, or do stables, or something complicated and professional of that kind,” said Fitz, with a dogged resentment aggressively conspicuous in his manner.
“Nonsense, Anstruther! You know as well as I do that he would have allowed nothing but absolute necessity to keep him from coming,” said Stratford.
“Oh yes, of course,” said Georgia, in the most natural tone she could command. She would not let it be seen that she perceived the flimsy character of the excuse, but she felt deeply mortified as she allowed Stratford to mount her on her horse, and she resented his evident determination to smooth things over almost more than Fitz’s undisguised incredulity. “How horrid of Dick!” was what she said to herself as she gathered up the reins, and the hot tears rose to her eyes under the shadow of the burka.
“Stay, Englishman!” cried Khadija from the doorstep, when Stratford, having seen Rahah and the luggage safely bestowed, was about to mount his own horse. “Where is Yakub, my son, whom I left at Bir-ul-Malik as a pledge for the safe return of the doctor lady?”
“I hope that Yakub will come back to you safe and sound in a few days,” returned Stratford in Ethiopian, speaking so carefully that it was evident he had studied his sentences with Kustendjian before starting. “For the present, however, I think it well to detain him, on my own responsibility. We don’t want any mistakes made about that medicine for the Envoy. As soon as he has recovered, you shall have your son back.”
For answer, Khadija threw herself upon the ground, wailing and tearing her hair and beating her breast, and calling upon Heaven and upon Georgia to witness that she had performed all that was required of her, and that she had given her all the necessary ingredients for the medicine. Georgia, remembering the scene in Zeynab’s room the night before, and indignant at being compelled to bear a part in what was not far removed from a breach of faith, espoused her cause, and joined her in demanding that Yakub should be at once released. In spite, however, of all that she could say, Stratford remained immovable, and mounting his horse, ordered an immediate start. But before the horses had gone more than a few steps, Khadija rose from the ground, and forcing her way through the escort, caught hold of Georgia’s rein.
“O doctor lady,” she cried, with such reluctance that she seemed almost to be torn in two by the conflicting passions in her mind, “I had forgotten one thing. After the first administration of the medicine, the sick man will sleep for two days and two nights a natural sleep. If he is awakened in that time he will die, but if he awakes of himself, all will be well. And now”—her tone changed suddenly—“now go thy way, O thrice accursed daughter of an accursed father, and when first thy bridegroom looks upon thy face on thy wedding-night, may he turn his back on thee and say, ‘O woman, I divorce thee!’ and so thrust thee out.”
“Come, that’s enough,” said Stratford peremptorily, loosening her hand from the rein. “You know now that it depends on yourself whether your son returns to you in safety or not. Has Anstruther told you, Miss Keeling, that we had a messenger from Jahan Beg the day before yesterday?”