Once more Eveleen showed herself triumphantly reasonable. “No, I’ll borrow,” she said, and told the syces to go back. It was a very disturbed night that lay before her, for even when the Asteroid cast off at last, the human cargo squabbled grievously over its scanty accommodation. But in the morning the trials of the past hours were forgotten when she was invited up to the paddle-box to look out over the plain covered with stunted trees which extended southwards, and watch for the arrival of the envoys. The Asteroid reached the meeting-place first, and it was not till some hours later that a moving cloud of dust in the distance heralded the appearance of mounted men at the far end of the clearing which was due to the insatiable demands of the steamers for wood. There were three men perched on camels, looking perilously high up and absurdly unsafe, and a small body of horse.
“Sure it can’t be them!” cried Eveleen, as the camels knelt and the three riders dismounted and limped towards the primitive wharf. “These are blacks—not Europeans.”
“Never seen a European fresh from a desert trip before, ma’am?” asked Captain Franks jovially. “Look at their hair and eyes, and you’ll see.”
“It is, it is. And my brother too. Sure it’s a nice little family party you’ll be carrying this voyage, captain!” and she waved her hand gaily to the advancing three. They ought to have been pleased when they recognised the white figure welcoming them from the paddle-box, but it was quite obvious they were not. Richard Ambrose pulled up suddenly, and said something to Colonel Bayard, who shook his head, and Brian gave a subdued yell, and tried to hide behind the other two.
“I don’t want female society!” he wailed. “I want baths, and baths, and baths, and clean things, and to lie in the shade with a cheroot and a bottle of beer and all the saltpetre in Khemistan to cool it. Why would a man have to talk and behave pretty when he don’t want to? Major Ambrose, sir”—imitating the General at his gruffest—“pray why don’t you keep that wife of yours in better order?”
“My misfortune!” responded Richard briefly, as he came up the gangway. “No, my dear, pray don’t touch me”—warding Eveleen off as she ran down to the deck. “I will come to you again presently. At this moment I am not fit to speak to anybody. I did not expect to see you—or any lady—on board here.”
“I am to blame, I fear,” said Colonel Bayard, evidently calling to mind that last conversation. “But I own”—with a gentle reproof which would have stricken most women to the heart—“I had not looked to find my anxieties doubled by the honour of Mrs Ambrose’s company on our expedition.”
“Ah, now, won’t you say the pleasure?” Eveleen called after him, as the three were met and eagerly welcomed by the officers on board, and disappeared with them.
“Seems almost as if they weren’t expecting to see you, ma’am,” said Captain Franks, in a puzzled voice.
“That’s just it. They never thought I’d come. But that only shows they don’t know me—eh?” said Eveleen cheerfully.