CHAPTER II
When Tamara woke in the morning the recollection of her camel rideseemed like a dream. She sat for a long time at the window of her roomlooking out toward the green world and Cairo. She was trying to adjustthings in her mind. This stranger had certainly produced an effect uponher.
She wondered who he was, and how he would look in daylight--and aboveall whither he had galloped into the desert. Then she wondered atherself. The whole thing was so out of her line--so bizarre--in a lifeof carefully balanced proprieties. And were the thoughts the Sphinx hadawaked in her brain true? Yes, certainly she had been ruled by othersalways--and had never developed her own soul.
She was very sensitive--that last whimsical smile of the unknown hadhumiliated her. She felt he had laughed at her prim propriety inwishing to get rid of him before the gate. Indeed, she suddenly felt hemight laugh at a good many of the things she did. And this ruffled herserenity. She put up her slender hands and pushed the thick hair backfrom her forehead with an impatient gesture. It all made herdissatisfied with herself and full of unrest.
"You don't tell me a thing about your Sphinx excursion last night,Tamara," Millicent Hardcastle said at breakfast, rather peevishly. Theywere sipping coffee together in the latter's room in dressing-gowns."Was it nice, and had the tourists quite departed?"
"It was wonderful!" and Tamara leant back and looked into distance."There were no tourists, and it made me think a number of newthings--we seem such ordinary people, Millicent."
Mrs. Hardcastle glanced up surprised, not to say offended, with coffeecup poised in the air.
"Yes--you may wonder, but it is true, Milly--we do the same thingsevery day, and think the same thoughts, and are just thoroughlycommonplace and uninteresting."
"And you came to these conclusions from gazing at the Sphinx?" Mrs.Hardcastle asked.
"Yes," said Tamara, the pink deepening for a moment in her cheeks. Inher whole life she hardly ever had had a secret. "I sat there,Millicent, in the sand opposite the strange image, and it seemed tosmile and mock at all little things; it appeared perfectly ridiculousthat we pay so much attention to what the world says or thinks. I couldnot help looking back to the time when you and I were at Dresdentogether. What dull lives we have both led since! Yours perhaps morefilled than mine has been, because you have children; but really wehave both been browsing like sheep."
Mrs. Hardcastle now was almost irritated.
"I cannot agree with you," she said. "Our lives have been full of goodand pleasant things--and I hope, dear, we have both done our duty."
This, of course, ended the matter! It was so undoubtedly true--each haddone her duty.
After breakfast they started for a last donkey-ride, as they mustreturn to Cairo in time for the Khedive's ball that night, which, asdistinguished English ladies, they were being taken to by theircompatriots at the Agency. Then on the morrow they were to start forEurope. Mrs. Hardcastle could not spare more time away from her babies.Their visit had only been of four short weeks, and now it was December27, and home and husband called her.
For Tamara's part, she could do as she pleased; indeed, for two pinsshe would have stayed on in Egypt.
But that was not the intention of fate!
"Do let us go up that sand-path, Millicent," she said, when they turnedout of the hotel gate. "We have never been there, and I would like tosee where it leads to--perhaps we shall get quite a new vista from thetop----"
And so they went.
What she expected to find she did not ask herself. In any case theyrode on, eventually coming out at a small enclosure where stood a sortof bungalow in those days--it is probably pulled down now, but then itstood with a wonderful view over the desert, and over the green world.Tamara had vaguely observed it in the distance before, but imagined itto be some water-tower of the hotel, it was so bare and gaunt. It hadbeen built by some mad Italian, they heard afterward, for rest andquiet.
It was a quaint place with tiny windows high up, evidently to light astudio, and there was a veranda to look at the view towards the Nile.
When they got fairly close they could see that on this veranda a youngman was stretched at full length. A long wicker chair supported him,while he read a French novel. They--at least Tamara--could see theyellow back of the book, and also, one regrets to add, she wasconscious that the young man was only clothed in blue and white stripedsilk pyjamas!--the jacket of which was open and showed his chest--andone foot, stretched out and hanging over the back of another low chair,was--actually bare!
Mrs. Hardcastle touched her donkey and hurried past--the path went sovery near this unseemly sight! And Tamara followed, but not before theyoung man had time to raise himself and frown with fury. She almostimagined she heard him saying "Those devils of tourists!" Then with thecorner of her eye ere they got out of sight, she perceived that ablue-clad Arab brought coffee on a little tray.
She glowed with annoyance. Did he think she had come to look at him?Did he--he certainly was quite uninterested, for he must haverecognized her; but perhaps not; people look so different in largestraw hats to what they appear with scarves of chiffon tied over theirheads. But why had she come this way at all? She wished a thousandtimes she had suggested going round the pyramids instead.
"Tamara," said Mrs. Hardcastle, when they were safely descending thefurther sand-path, with no unclothed young giant in view, "did you seethere was a _man_ in that chair? What a dreadful person to be lying onthe balcony--undressed!"
"I never noticed," said Tamara, without a blush. "I am surprised at youhaving looked, Millie--when this view is so fine."
"But, my dear child, I could not possibly help seeing him. How you didnot notice, I can't think; he had pyjamas on, Tamara--and _bare feet!"_
Mrs. Hardcastle almost whispered the last terrible words.
"I suppose he felt hot," said Tamara; "it is a grilling day."
"But really, dear, no nice people, in any weather,remain--er--undressed at twelve o'clock in the day for passers-by tolook at--do they?"
"Well, perhaps he isn't a nice person," allowed Tamara. "He may be mad.What was he like, since you saw so much, Millicent?"
Mrs. Hardcastle glanced over her shoulder reproachfully. "You reallyspeak as though I had looked on purpose," she said. "He seemed verylong--and not fat. I suppose, as his hair was not very dark, he must bean Englishman."
"Oh, dear, no!" exclaimed Tamara. "Not an Englishman." Then seeing herfriend's expression of surprise, "I mean, it isn't likely an Englishmanwould lie on his balcony in pyjamas--at least not the ones we see inCairo; they--they are too busy, aren't they?"
This miserably lame explanation seemed to satisfy Millicent. It was toohot and too disagreeable, she felt, clinging to the donkey while itdescended the steep path, to continue the subject further, having toturn one's head over the shoulder like that; but when they got on thebroad level she began again:
"Possibly it was a madman, Tamara, sent here with a keeper--in thatout-of-the-way place. How fortunate we had the donkey boys with us!"
Tamara laughed.
"You dear goose, Millie, he couldn't have eaten us up, you know; and hewas not doing the least harm, poor thing. We should not have gone thatway; it may have been his private path."
"Still, no one should lie about undressed," Mrs. Hardcastle protested."It is not at all nice. Girls might have been riding with us, and howdreadful it would have been then."
"Let us forget it, pet!" Tamara laughed, "and trot on and get some realexercise."
So off they started.
Just as they were turning out of the hotel gate, late in the sameafternoon, a young man on an Arab horse passed the carriage. He was inordinary riding dress, and looked a slim, graceful sight as he trottedahead.
He never glanced their way. But while Tamara felt a sudden emotion ofsorts, Mrs. Hardcastle exclaimed:
"Look, look! I am sure that is he--the mad man who wore those pyjamas."