XLII
Just as he came in sight of the great chott between Biskra andTouggourt, Stephen heard a sound which struck him strangely in thesilence of the desert. It was the distant teuf-teuf of a powerful motorcar, labouring heavily through deep sand.
Stephen was travelling in a carriage, which he had hired in Biskra, andwas keeping as close as he dared to the vehicle in front, shared byMaieddine and a French officer. But he never let himself come withinsight or sound of it. Now, as he began to hear the far-off panting of amotor, he saw nothing ahead but the vast saltpetre lake, which, viewedfrom the hill his three horses had just climbed, shimmered blue andsilver, like a magic sea, reaching to the end of the world. There werewhite lines like long ruffles of foam on the edges of azure waves,struck still by enchantment while breaking on an unseen shore; and faroff, along a mystic horizon, little islands floated on the gleamingflood. Stephen could hardly believe that there was no water, and thathis horses could travel the blue depths without wetting their feet.
It was just as he was thinking thus, and wondering if Victoria hadpassed this way, when the strange sound came to his ears, out of thedistance. "Stop," he said in French to his Arab driver. "I think friendsof mine will be in that car." He was right. A few minutes later Nevilland Lady MacGregor waved to him, as he stood on the top of a lowsand-dune.
Lady MacGregor was more fairylike than ever in a little motoring bonnetmade for a young girl, but singularly becoming to her. They had had aglorious journey, she said. She supposed some people would considerthat she had endured hardships, but they were not worth speaking of. Shehad been rather bumped about on the ghastly desert tracks since Biskra,but though she was not quite sure if all her bones were whole, she didnot feel in the least tired; and even if she did, the memory of theGorge of El Kantara would alone be enough to make up for it.
"Anything new?" asked Nevill.
"Nothing," Stephen answered, "except that the driver of the carriageahead let drop at the last bordj that he'd been hired by the Frenchofficer, who was taking Maieddine with him."
"Just what we thought," Lady MacGregor broke in.
"And the carriage will bring the Frenchman back, later. Maieddine'sgoing on. But I haven't found out where."
"H'm! I was in hopes we were close to our journey's end at Touggourt,"said Nevill. "The car can't get farther, I'm afraid. The big dunes beginthere."
"Whatever Maieddine does, we can follow his example. I mean, I can,"Stephen amended.
"So can Nevill. I'm no spoil-sport," snapped the old lady, in herchildlike voice. "I know what I can do and what I can't. I draw the lineat camels! Angus and Hamish will take care of me, and I'll wait for youat Touggourt. I can amuse myself in the market-place, and looking at theOuled Nails, till you find Miss Ray, or----"
"There won't be an 'or,' Lady MacGregor. We must find her. And we mustbring her to you," said Stephen.
He had slept in the carriage the night before, a little on the Biskraside of Chegga, because Maieddine and the French officer had rested atChegga. Nevill and Lady MacGregor had started from Biskra at fiveo'clock that morning, having arrived there the evening before. It wasnow ten, and they could make Touggourt that night. But they wishedMaieddine to reach there first, so they stopped by the chott, andlunched from a smartly fitted picnic-basket Lady MacGregor had brought.Stephen paid his Arab coachman, told him he might go back, andtransferred a small suitcase--his only luggage--from the carriage to thecar. They gave Maieddine two hours' grace, and having started on, alwaysslowed up whenever Nevill's field-glasses showed a slowly trottingvehicle on the far horizon. The road, which was hardly a road, farexceeded in roughness the desert track Stephen had wondered at on theway from Msila to Bou-Saada; but Lady MacGregor had the courage, he toldher, of a Joan of Arc.
They bumped steadily along, through the heat of the day, protected fromthe blazing sun by the raised hood, but they were thankful when, afterthe dinner-halt, darkness began to fall. Talking over ways and means,they decided not to drive into Touggourt, where an automobile would be aconspicuous object since few motors risked springs and tyres by comingso far into the desert. The chauffeur should be sent into the town whilethe passengers sat in the car a mile away.
Eventually Paul was instructed to demand oil for his small lamps, by wayof an excuse for having tramped into town. He was to find out what hadbecome of the two men who must have arrived about an hour before, in acarriage.
While the chauffeur was gone, Lady MacGregor played Patience andinsisted on teaching Stephen and Nevill two new games. She said that itwould be good discipline for their souls; and so perhaps it was. ButStephen never ceased calculating how long Paul ought to be away. Twentyminutes to walk a mile--or thirty minutes in desert sand; forty minutesto make inquiries; surely it needn't take longer! And thirty minutesback. But an hour and a half dragged on, before there was any sign ofthe absentee; then at last, Stephen's eye, roving wistfully from thecards, saw a moving spark at about the right height above the ground tobe a cigarette.
A few yards away from the car, the spark vanished decorously, and Paulwas recognizable, in the light of the inside electric lamp, the onlyillumination they allowed themselves, lest the stranded car proveattractive to neighbouring nomads.
The French officer was at the hotel for the night; the Arab was diningwith him, but instead of resting, would go on with his horse and a Negroservant who, it seemed, had been waiting for several days, since theirmaster had passed through Touggourt on the way to Algiers.
"Then he didn't come from El Aghouat," said Nevill. "Where is he going?Did you find out that?"
"Not for certain. But an Arab servant who talks French, says he believesthey're bound for a place called Oued Tolga," Paul replied, delightedwith the confidence reposed in him, and with the whole adventure.
"That means three days in the dunes for us!" said Nevill. "AuntCharlotte, you can practice Patience, in Touggourt."
"I shall invent a new game, and call it Hope," returned Lady MacGregor."Or if it's a good one, I'll name it Victoria Ray, which is better thanMiss Millikens. It will just be done in time to teach that poor childwhen you bring her back to me."
"Hope wouldn't be a bad name for the game we've all been playing, andhave got to go on playing," mumbled Nevill. "We'll give Maieddine justtime to turn his back on Touggourt, before we show our noses there. Thenyou and I, Legs, will engage horses and a guide."
"You deserve your name, Wings," said Stephen. And he wondered howJosette Soubise could hold out against Caird. He wondered also what shethought of this quest; for her sister Jeanne was in the secret. No doubtshe had written Josette more fully than Nevill had, even if he had daredto write at all. And if, as long ago as the visit to Tlemcen, she hadbeen slightly depressed by her friend's interest in another girl, shemust by this time see the affair in a more serious light. Stephen wascruel enough to hope that she was unhappy. He had heard women say thatno cure for a woman's obstinacy was as sure as jealousy.
When they arrived at the hotel, and ordered all in the same breath, aroom for a lady, two horses and a guide, only the first demand could begranted. It would be impossible, said the landlady and her son, toproduce horses on the instant. There were some to be had, it was true,but they had come in after a hard day's work, and must have severalhours' rest. The gentlemen might get off at dawn, if they wished, butnot before.
"After all, it doesn't much matter," Nevill said to Stephen. "Even anArab must have some sleep. We'll have ours now, and catch up withMaieddine while he's taking his. Don't worry. Suppose the worst--that heisn't really going to Oued Tolga. We shall get on his track, with anArab guide to pilot us. There are several stopping places where we caninquire. He'll be seen passing them, even if he goes by."
"But you say Arabs never betray each other to white men."
"This won't be a question of betrayal. Watch and see how ingenuous, aswell as ingenious, I'll be in all my inquiries."
"I never heard of Oued Tolga," Stephen said, half to himself.
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p; "Don't confess that to an Arab. It would be like telling a Frenchmanyou'd never heard of Bordeaux. It's a desert city, bigger thanTouggourt, I believe, and--by Jove, yes, there's a tremendouslyimportant Zaouia of the same name. Great marabout hangs out there--kindof Mussulman pope of the desert. I hope to goodness----"
"What?" Stephen asked, as Nevill broke off suddenly.
"Oh, nothing to fash yourself about, as the twins would say. Only--itwould be awkward if she's there. Harder to get her out. However--time tocross the stile when we come to it."
But Stephen crossed a great many stiles with his mind before thatdarkest hour before the dawn, when he was called to get ready for thelast stage of the journey.
Lady MacGregor was up to see them off, and never had her cap been moreelaborate, or her hair been dressed more daintily.
"You'll wire me from the end of the world, won't you?" she askedbriskly. "Paul and I (and Hamish and Angus if necessary) will be readyto rush you all three back to civilization the instant you arrive withMiss Ray. Give her my love. Tell her I've brought clothes for her. Theymayn't be what she'd choose, but I dare say she won't be sorry to seethem. And by the way, if there are telegrams--you know I told theservants to send them on from home--shall I wire them on to Oued Tolga?"
"No. We're tramps, with no address," laughed Nevill. "Anything thatcomes can wait till we get back."
Stephen could not have told why, for he was not thinking of Margot, butsuddenly he was convinced that a telegram from her was on the way,fixing the exact date when she might be expected in England.