Read Was I Right? Abridged Edition Page 14


  I was busy with my letter, sitting at a small table in the window of our sitting-room in the hotel, waiting until Sir William came downstairs for breakfast, when the door opened and Mr. Stanley came in.

  "Oh, how lovely," I exclaimed, as soon as I turned round.

  He had a basket in his hand, filled with maidenhair ferns, scarlet anemones and cyclamen.

  "They are beautiful, Mr. Stanley. Where did you get them?"

  "I have been for an early walk in the Valley of Hinnom, and found them on the hills on either side. I am so glad you like them. I thought you would."

  "Evelyn will be charmed," I said. "She is so fond of flowers. I will put them in water and take them upstairs to her. She is better today, Mr. Stanley."

  "I am glad of that," he said. "The fever soon passes away if care is taken. But I gathered these flowers for you -- if you will have them."

  "Thank you, very much indeed," I said. "I didn't know they were for me. It was very good of you."

  "I am so glad you like them," he replied. "I could see you were fond of flowers when we were on the Mount of Olives. I must be going now. Will you tell Sir William I will meet you at the Jaffa Gate at four o'clock? There are several people I must see today about various things, so I'm afraid I must leave you all to your own devices until evening. Goodbye, and take care of yourself -- I don't want you to have fever."

  He was halfway to the door when he turned back again. "There is a little piece of paper in the middle of the flowers," he said. "It is for you, for no one else, remember. The verses are only written in pencil. I don't know whether you will be able to make them out. They are about the flowers," he added, smiling. "You will not be angry, will you?"

  "Oh no," I said, and he was gone.

  I put the paper which I found among the ferns into my pocket, for a minute afterwards Sir William entered the room. I gave him Mr. Stanley's message, and he admired the flowers and rang the bell for water that I could arrange them before they withered. I did not tell him that they were for me.

  After breakfast Sir William asked me to read aloud to him the leading articles in a copy of The Times which had arrived by the mail that morning, and so it was some time before I could find an opportunity to look at my paper.

  I opened it as soon as I was alone, and read it more than once.

  The Flowers' Message

  We grew upon the very hills

  Where Jesus used to stand;

  We blossomed on the lonely paths

  Of God's once Holy Land.

  There is a city near our home --

  A sad and ruined place --

  For those who lived within her walls

  Let slip the day of grace.

  Yet beautiful in all the earth

  Mount Zion used to be --

  The city of the Heavenly King,

  And Israel's glory she!

  Now, filled with misery and sin,

  Defiled by guilt and shame,

  And trampled underfoot by those

  Of every creed and name.

  Oh pray, then, for Jerusalem,

  The city of our birth;

  Oh shed a tear for her who was

  The joy of all the earth.

  The ancient promise holdeth good,

  It hath not been reversed --

  "Blessed is he who blesseth thee,

  And he who hates is cursed."

  So we from the Judean hills,

  This simple message bring --

  "Oh pray for poor Jerusalem,

  The city of the King."

  For M. L.,

  from her friend Howard Stanley.

  I looked forward to that evening ride, and four o'clock seemed as if it would never come.

  At last the horses arrived, and Sir William, Evelyn and I mounted and rode to the Jaffa Gate.

  Mr. Stanley had not come, but Miss Schwarz was there waiting for us. We had been introduced to her the day before, so she came at once and spoke to us, and we rode up and down together, looking from time to time at the gate to see if Mr. Stanley was coming.

  "It is extraordinary," said Sir William, "that he should be late. We have always found him such a punctual man. Are you sure he said four o'clock, Miss Lindsay?"

  "Oh yes," I said, "quite sure. 'Four o'clock at the Jaffa Gate,' that was what he said."

  "Yes, he told me to be here at four o'clock," said Miss Schwarz. "He will come in a few minutes, I think. Shall we ride towards 'the big tree,' as we call it? It is not really large, but we have no trees that deserve the name in Jerusalem, so it looks big to us. It is only a little way, and Mr. Stanley will see us there, and we shall get some shade."

  "Very well," said Sir William, "you had better go. I want you to keep out of the sun as much as possible, Evelyn. I will wait at this corner and catch Mr. Stanley as he comes through the gate."

  So we rode down to the big tree, and Miss Schwarz told us how she used to come and play there with her friends when she was a child, and how beautiful and green she thought it until she had been to Germany and had seen the trees in Europe.

  We found Miss Schwarz a pleasant companion, and the first few minutes passed away happily. But as time went on, we began to wonder why Mr. Stanley did not appear.

  After about half an hour Sir William came slowly down the road to meet us. "I cannot see him," he said. "It is very strange. He must have forgotten. I think I will go as far as the Latin Convent and inquire for him."

  "I don't think he would forget," I said.

  "Oh, I don't know," said Sir William. "Young men often have short memories, and you said he was going to visit various friends this morning. I will just go and inquire for him. I shall not be long."

  It was, however, some time before Sir William reappeared at the Jaffa Gate, and then he was alone.

  "Well, papa," said Evelyn, "did you find our runaway guide?"

  Sir William looked grave and perplexed. My heart beat fast, for I felt sure that something was the matter.

  "I cannot make it out," he said. "Mr. Stanley has gone to Jaffa."

  "Gone to Jaffa?" we all exclaimed together.

  "Yes," he said. "The porter tells me he took a horse early this morning. It must have been soon after you saw him, Miss Lindsay. About ten o'clock the man said, and he went down to Jaffa. The porter thinks he was going back to England. I cannot understand it; it is very strange."

  "What can be the matter?" asked Evelyn.

  "I have no idea," said Sir William. "I think he might have let us know. The porter said he did not even take his luggage, but left it to be sent after him by the next steamer. It seems there is a steamer that leaves Jaffa for Alexandria tonight, and I suppose he wanted to catch that."

  "Didn't the man know why he left in such a hurry?" Evelyn asked.

  "No, he did not seem to know. I asked him if a telegram had arrived for Mr. Stanley, and he said he did not think so, for he had not taken one in. But the man talked such extraordinary French that I could not understand him very well. I wonder why Mr. Stanley did not let us know he was going. It was thoughtless of him."

  "Perhaps he will write from Jaffa," Evelyn suggested.

  "Well, I hope so," said Sir William. "But I think he might have let us know before this afternoon, and not have kept us waiting here in the sun. I gave him credit for more consideration. It is a strange thing, and I do not like it at all. Well, what are we to do, Miss Schwarz? We ought not to keep you standing here. Will it be too late to go to the tomb?"

  "Oh no," she said, "not at all. It is quite a short ride, and we shall be back long before sunset. Shall we go at once?"

  "Yes, I think perhaps we had better go," said Sir William, with some hesitation. "You can talk Arabic, I suppose, Miss Schwarz, in case we need an interpreter?"

  "Oh yes," she said, laughing, "as well as any Arab. I could talk Arabic before I could talk German."

  So we set off for the tomb, but we were none of us in good spirits. Sir William was complaining all the way of Mr. Stanley's inconsi
derate behaviour, and Evelyn was defending him to the best of her power and assuring her father that there was certain to be a letter from Jaffa.

  I am afraid that Miss Schwarz must have thought us dull and uninteresting people. She was an exceedingly nice girl, just my own age, and at any other time I would so much have enjoyed my ride with her. But that afternoon I could not understand what the matter was with me, and it was an effort to talk. I roused myself once or twice to take an interest in the places and the people that we were passing on the green Bethlehem plain, but I found it difficult because my thoughts seemed to be far away. I was ashamed of myself, and struggled against it, and asked Miss Schwarz many questions about the place to which we were going. She took great pains to explain everything to us, to make our ride pleasant and interesting. I hope she did not think us ungrateful.

  We went for some distance along the road to Bethlehem, and then we turned up among the mountains. It was a wild, rough road. Indeed, after a time we had no road at all, but had to cross over ploughed fields and the stone-covered hillsides. The view was splendid. A valley lay beneath us, completely surrounded by hills, on the sides of which we could see the remains of many of the ancient terraces. It must, indeed, have been a lovely place when it was planted with trees, but had it not been for a few patches of green, and the scarlet anemones and yellow Bethlehem stars which were peeping up between the bare stones, the hillsides would have been monotonous. In the distance we could see the blue waters of the Dead Sea, and the white limestone of Mount Quarantania. At last we reached a place where there were many ruins and the remains of an ancient village. There were several old wells, and stones with crosses carved on them which showed that they dated back to the times of the Crusaders. We passed through these ruins, and Miss Schwarz took us to the side of the hill where the newly-discovered tomb was to be found.

  It seems that the Arabs living in a nearby village were ploughing on the hillside, and one of them moved a large stone out of the way of his plod. To his astonishment he saw that the stone had covered a deep, dark hole. He went down into this hole and found himself in a stone chamber, the masonry of which was perfect. Another entrance had been afterwards made into the tomb, and through this Miss Schwarz led us.

  She told us that her father thought it was a burying-place for Christians in the fifth or sixth century, so it was not very old compared with most of the places in Jerusalem, but it was most curious and interesting. There were five stone steps leading down to the door of the tomb. The door itself was made of one block of stone, and was still on its hinges, and moved backwards and forwards quite easily.

  All round the chamber were places cut out of the stone for the coffins to lie in. There were twelve of these in the principal room, but two other smaller chambers leading out of the first one contained more graves, but these had not been fully opened when we were there. A large stone was at the mouth of each grave when it was discovered, and the Arabs had torn these away hoping to find some treasure buried with the dead. But though they opened every grave, they found inside nothing but dust.

  We were just peeping into one of the further chambers, and trying to count the number of graves in it, when we heard a great noise outside -- shouting and yelling and jabbering -- and to our great alarm and dismay a number of Arabs rushed into the tomb, shaking their fists at us and screaming at the top of their voices. Sir William looked frightened, for it was a wild and lonely place far out of the reach of any European building or any public road.

  We scrambled out as quickly as we could, followed closely by the Arabs. Miss Schwarz was haranguing them in Arabic. We could not understand what they were saying to her or she was saying to them, but we felt sure that they intended to rob us, or even murder us.

  When we came out of the tomb we were still more terrified, for we saw that some of the Arabs had seized our horses which we had tied to a tree near, and were preparing to lead them away.

  "Oh dear, I wish we had never come," said Sir William. "What shall we do? If I could only talk to these fellows. Don't be frightened, Evelyn darling. What do they want, Miss Schwarz? What do you think had better be done?"

  "I think they only want money," she said, turning away from the Arabs who were shaking their fists at her. "I will see what can be done. They say we have insulted the sheik of the village by entering the tomb without permission, and of course they threaten all sorts of dreadful things. But I will manage them, don't be alarmed. Have you any money with you, Sir William?"

  "Yes, a little," he said. "Not very much. How much will they want?"

  "Oh, they shall not have very much," she said. "Have you a silver mejidie? It is a large Turkish coin -- larger than half a crown."

  "Yes, I think I have," he said. "I will look."

  "No, not now!" Miss Schwartz said quickly. "Please wait a minute or two."

  She had another long conversation with the Arabs, and to our astonishment they brought up our horses and helped us mount them. When we were ready to start, Miss Schwarz turned to Sir William, for the Arabs were all holding out their hands greedily to Sir William to receive the coin.

  "They may have the mejidie now," she said. "If you will give it to me, I will hand it to the sheik, and he will divide it among them. And then we will ride on quickly."

  "You are a splendid guide, Miss Schwarz," said Sir William, when we were safely on our way. "How did you manage them so well?"

  "Oh, I threatened them with the English consul, and the German consul, and with the Pacha, and with all sorts of other authorities," she said, laughing. "I knew they would not dare hurt us, for they would never hear the last of it if they did. And, besides, the sheik knows my father well, and as soon as I mentioned his name they became civil. I hope you did not mind giving them the mejidie, Sir William, but I promised them a little reward if they were good."

  "Oh, not at all," he said, laughing. "It was a cheap way of making our escape. They would not get much each, poor fellows."

  "Oh, quite enough," said Miss Schwarz. "If they had been more civil we might have given them a little more. I hope you were not frightened, Miss Trafford."

  "Only a little," said Evelyn, but she looked pale, and we were all glad to get safely back to the hotel.

  Evelyn lay on the sofa in the sitting-room all evening, and I sat beside her, while Sir William went into the coffee room and discussed the adventures of the day with a party of English travellers who had arrived that evening from Jaffa.

  My present from Mr. Stanley of the beautiful ferns and flowers looked withered after the heat of the day, so I gave them fresh water and pressed one or two of the prettiest in blotting paper so that I could remember them for ever. Then I sat down beside Evelyn with my work in my hand, but I did not feel inclined to sew. I felt depressed, and Evelyn seemed so likewise. I said to myself that it was only the reaction after the excitement and fright we had experienced that afternoon, and yet I felt that, after all, that was not the real reason.

  Was it because -- could it be because -- Mr. Stanley had gone away? For, after all, he was only a stranger. A pleasant -- yes, a very pleasant -- travelling companion who had been kind and useful to us when we were in his company, but who would think no more of us now that he had gone away. Like ships meeting on the sea, we had gone side by side for a little time, but now we had parted -- probably never to meet again. That was all. It was nothing to be miserable about. And I was angry with myself for having given way to the feeling of depression which had crept over me.

  I tried to think of my work, of Maggie, of our encounter with the Arabs in the tomb, of anything but Mr. Stanley's mysterious disappearance. But, somehow or other, I could not tell why, my thoughts would come back to it in spite of all my efforts to turn them to other subjects.

  I could not help wondering whether Evelyn was thinking the same thing. Why was she so quiet this evening? Could it be that she missed Mr. Stanley? Was I right in fancying that was the reason? Did she really care for him more than for an ordinary acquaintance?
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  I looked up at Evelyn, and found she was watching me with a curious expression on her face -- half amused, half inquiring. I rather resented it, I am afraid, and looked down again quickly and started on my work.

  "It will all come right, May," she said, after a pause.

  "What will come right, Evelyn?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean about Mr. Stanley's mysterious disappearance," she said, smiling. "I am sure we'll get a solution to the mystery in a day or two."

  "Oh yes," I said carelessly, "we'll be able to find another guide. That is the only drawback."

  "The only drawback?" she repeated.

  "You don't think so?" I said.

  "You don't think so either, May," she replied. "I know you don't."

  "Well, perhaps not," I said. "How close it is tonight, Evelyn. Would you mind me taking a little walk on the verandah outside the window, to get cool before bedtime?"

  "Oh, not at all," she said, smiling. "Go, May dear, it will do you good."

  It was a quiet, starlight night, and the stars in that part of the world seemed wonderfully brilliant and beautiful. I walked up and down for some time, not exactly thinking, not exactly praying, but with my heart lifted upwards above this changing world to the unchanging Friend above. And an answer came to that upward appeal.

  I thought of Solomon's Quarry, with the marks of the tools where stones had been hewn to make a building fit for the Lord God. Was this God's chisel at work upon me now? When troubles come which I cannot understand, which seem so hard to bear, I was slowly learning that it is a sign that my Heavenly Father is working on my heart.

  It is not always pleasant to feel the pick and the chisel at work on us, but it is a comfort to know in whose hand the tool is, and that He can make no mistakes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A FEW DAYS afterwards, as we were sitting at breakfast, the waiter came into the room with a letter. Sir William looked at the postmark.

  "Alexandria." he said. "Well, I am glad he has written at last."

  "Is it from Mr. Stanley, papa?" asked Evelyn.

  "Yes," he said, "I would think so. I do not know anyone else who is likely to be in Alexandria."

  He opened the letter and glanced hastily at its contents. Then he took up the envelope and looked at it again. Then he turned once more to the first page of the letter and began to read it through.