“My dear! Pray”—he freed himself with some difficulty—“do try to exercise self-control. Nothing will happen to either of us if you will only behave with ordinary prudence. The matter is happily ended now, and needs no intervention on your part. But if I had not belittled the talisman—had I shown any desire to regain it—we should all probably have had to fight for our lives to-night. I have instilled into Kamal-ud-din’s mind a doubt of its value which it will take some time to repair. The stone is where it belongs; be content with that. And if I may venture to suggest it, think before you act in future.”
“Oh, I will, I will! I’ll think for hours. But why would you say we’d be fighting for our lives? Who with?”
“The Khans and their Arabits, of course. Who else?”
“Ambrose! d’ye mean we might be besieged here—actually a siege—and have adventures, like the ladies who were carried off into Ethiopia? Why, you talked as if ’twas a punishment bringing me up here, and sure I’d rather be here than any other place in the world!”
He looked at her hopelessly. “Sometimes I really despair of you, my dear. But most of those ladies’ husbands had been killed, if I remember rightly, so perhaps that’s the reason—— No, pray! it is too hot for demonstrations of such fervour. I beg your pardon—— There!”
Thus rudely checked in throwing herself upon him again, Eveleen dropped back upon the couch. “It’s no use!” she said in a small miserable voice. “Whatever I do—nothing will please you. And you say these cruel things, breaking my heart entirely. What will I do? what can I do?” she faced him fiercely. “And I’d lie down and let you walk over me if ’twould give you a moment’s pleasure! Will you tell me what I’ll do? Don’t sit there like a graven image with the toothache and look at me as if I was off my head!”
“Sometimes I think you are!” the words were on Richard’s lips, but some feeling of compunction made him choke them back. He had the advantage over his wife that he did not always say what he thought. But he looked physically and mentally exhausted as he lifted his hand slowly. “Pray, my dear! But the fault is mine. I should not have kept you up here so long. You are overstrained; I fear an attack of fever.” She gazed at him in astonishment, almost suspicion. “If you really wish to please me——”
“Oh, I do, I do!” she assured him fervently.
“Then you will go down the river by the next steamer. I asked Gibbons t’other day whether his wife would receive you in her bungalow at Bab-us-Sahel, and he assures me she’ll welcome you heartily. There in the sea-breezes you will recover your calmness of mind—I trust.”
“But sure I don’t know Mrs Gibbons!” with dilated eyes.