For Love of a Bedouin Maid

by Voleur

When she awoke she was able to speak. From that moment she gradually gained strength; nothing now ailed her, but extreme debility, and each day that grew less. Ben Kerriman, in fact, was surprised at her rapid progress towards recovery.

All this time the treasure that had almost cost their lives was kept carefully guarded. It had been stored up in a hut, which had been then banked round and on the top with sand, the door only being exposed. St. Just kept the key of this, and each day he went in to count the boxes and see that they had not been tampered with. Moreover, night and day the hut was always watched by two men—not, of course, always the same—in whom implicit confidence could be placed. All these precautions were scarcely needed, for no member of the tribe would have robbed its chief; but St. Just, realizing that he was but the bailee of this great wealth, was resolved to run no risk.

He had deferred the examination of the silver casket, until his wife should be restored to health, feeling that she would like to be present at its opening; but one day, when she was thoroughly recovered and they were alone together, and likely for some time to be undisturbed, he brought it out. It was soon forced open, and then the sight disclosed to view made Halima's eyes sparkle with delight, and St. Just's to beam with satisfaction. They had expected to find precious stones, but had never dreamed of such as these. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and others whose names they did not know, all flawless, and of the purest water; the diamonds colorless as ice, the others with tints rich and deep. And there were no mean sized stones among them; some as large as pigeon's eggs, others equaling the size of marbles; there were none smaller. They were all unset and badly cut, but the size and quality were there. Little as St. Just knew of the value of such gems, he was satisfied that the contents of that little silver box far out-weighed in worth the treasure stored up in the hut outside.

When the jewels had been duly inspected and admired, it was arranged that Halima should have the charge of them, and, with a view to their safe custody, she said she would sew them into a pad or belt, and wear them under her clothing, until the opportunity should arrive for their disposal.

The subject naturally brought up that of the remainder of the treasure. Now that his anxiety on the score of his wife's health was over, St. Just was desirous of relieving himself of his responsibility as soon as possible. Having no immediate personal interest in the money, its custody had become an incubus he would fain shake off. Accordingly, he now suggested that a messenger should be at once despatched to Cairo with a letter to the persons mentioned by the late sheik, informing them of the existence of the gold and of the old man's wishes in regard to it, and inquiring whether, and by what route it would be safe for him, St. Just, to bring it.

Halima wished the matter to be put oft for a time; said the treasure was quite safe where it was, that the country was so unsettled that its transport would be hazardous, that the withdrawal of so many men as would be necessary for the convoy would leave her insufficiently protected; and advanced a number of other reasons more or less plausible, for postponing action for the present. Summed up, they simply meant that she wished to keep her husband with her.

He combated her objections one by one, showing that she made too much of them; then he dwelt on his own uneasiness at having the charge of so much wealth, and on his pledged word to the old sheik; appealing, finally, to her filial affection and her duty to her father.

This last was his most mighty argument, and it prevailed with the result that she agreed that a messenger should be sent to Cairo with all speed.

Now this decision was a most untoward one, as events will show. Had St. Just at once set out with the treasure, without previously communicating with the men in Cairo, the current of his life would have flowed in a very different channel from that it took.

It may be remembered that when St. Just rejoined the tribe with Halima, shortly before the old sheik's death, his wife's old nurse regarded him with great repugnance; though why, unless it was for his nationality, he could not understand. At first he had hoped that her undoubted love and fidelity towards his wife, whose affection for himself the old woman must have seen was strong and deep, would have wrought some change in her feelings towards him—and he, on his part, albeit by no means sympathetic towards her, had done his utmost to capture her goodwill. So far from that, however, her aversion for him seemed daily to increase, and, after Halima's illness, attained to such a pitch of hatred that, if she could have slain him with impunity, she would have done so. It was not that she indulged in any overt acts of insolence or disobedience; but the looks of diabolical malignancy she flung at him as often as she met his eyes, sufficiently revealed her sentiments.