CHAPTER LII

The full moon shone down on the scene, which surely had not changed since the wise men of the East—­led by a star—­came to find a Babe.

The palms swayed slightly in a faint breeze, the sand stretched a restful grey, and there was no sound whatever save the faint ripple of the life-giving stream singing its way through the oasis.  Neither was there sign of human life excepting the figure of an Arab standing as if carved in bronze in the black shadow of the palms.  Immobile, with arms folded he stood, eyes intent on the road leading to civilisation, watching and waiting, as he had watched and waited through many a night until dawn.

“Allah!” and the words were indistinguishable from the brook’s murmuring.  “God of all, send her back to me.  Behold! with patience I have waited these last long months—­and yet would I wait even until death—­for thou, O!  Allah, in Thy greatness hast allowed me dimly to understand this woman’s mind—­my woman, my heritage of all time.

“The Eastern night will draw her back, as surely as the moon will make a silvery path for her return; for she has but tried her soft white wings, and I have no fear that she will have sullied them in her flight.

“But this time, this time there shall be no escape.”

The long brown hand stretched out as if to seize and hold, the slender fingers closed gently, but with a grip of steel, as though upon the whiteness of some woman’s throat.

“When she comes back my wife,” continued the voice, as the moon slowly swung up to her throne, blinding in her power the million twinkling eyes that had watched for her coming.  “Yet, when she comes it will be for very love of me, her lover, and for love of the night and the scent of the dawn, for the stillness of the dusk, and the longing to lay her pure whiteness at rest within my arms.”

And then he threw his hands heavenwards with a great cry.

“Allah, be praised!  Oh Allah, unto thee I give thanks.”

And sank upon his knees, touching the sand with his forehead, and rising with hands outstretched strode quickly to the clump of palms near the gate in the wall surrounding Jill’s dwelling, to meet three camels stalking upon the road leading from civilisation towards him; one golden-brown with a closed palanquin swaying upon its back, the others dark brown, one laden with great skins, almost empty of water, and bundles of every size and description, the other mounted by the head keeper of camels, who, having brought the animals to their knees, ran to his master and knelt before him with his mouth open as though to speak, and a look of wracking anxiety and indecision upon his usually imperturbable countenance.

But a slight motion of his master’s hand sent him hurriedly towards the servants’ quarters, where he was received by scores of his own kind simply bursting with curiosity, whilst Hahmed silently held out his hands to help Jill from the palanquin.