British -- Egypt -- Fiction; Egypt -- Fiction; Kidnapping -- Fiction; Love stories
Diana gave a little shiver. She felt a great sympathy coming over her
for the lonely old man, hoping against hope for the impossible, that
she had not felt earlier in the evening. He, too, was wearing his heart
out against the inflexible will of Ahmed Ben Hassan.
She shivered again and turned back into the tent with Saint Hubert.
They halted by the couch and stood for a long time in silence. Then
Diana slowly raised her head and looked up into Raoul's face, and he
read the agonised question in her eyes.
"I don't know," he said gently. "All things are with Allah."
CHAPTER X
The night grew hotter and the atmosphere more oppressive. Wrapped in a
thin silk kimono Diana lay very still on the outside of the wide couch
in the inner room, propped high with pillows that the shaded light of
the little reading-lamp beside her might fall on the book she held, but
she was not reading.
It was Raoul's latest book, that he had brought with him, but she could
not concentrate her mind on it, and it lay idle on her knee--while her
thoughts were far away. It was three months since the night that Saint
Hubert had almost given up hope of being able to save the Sheik's
life--a night that had been followed by days of suspense that had
reduced Diana to a weary-eyed shadow of her former vigorous self, and
had left marks on Raoul that would never be effaced. But thanks to his
great strength and splendid constitution the Sheik had rallied and
after the first few weeks convalescence had been rapid. When the
terrible fear that he might die was past it had been a wonderful
happiness to wait on him. With the determination to live for the
moment, to which she had forced herself, she had banished everything
from her mind but the joy of being near him and of being necessary to
him. It had been a very silent service, for he would lie for hours with
closed eyes without speaking, and something that she could not master
kept her tongue-tied in his presence when they were alone. Only once he
had referred to the raid. As she bent over him to do some small office
his fingers closed feebly round her wrist and his eyes, with a
searching apprehension in them, looked into hers for the first time
since the night when she had fled from his curses.
"Was it--in time?" he whispered slowly, and as she nodded with crimson
cheeks and lowered eyes he turned his head away without another word,
but a shudder that he was too weak to control shook him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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