There was absolute silence as she sat motionless, looking into the future.  In the West she saw boats, trains, hotels, inner cabins, middle seats, back bedrooms; felt women, mothers, and wives clutching their mankind so as to keep them from the pariah, the penniless, pretty companion; heard the clink of the five or ten shillings a week paid monthly in silver, and all this to be repeated over and over again until she died, unless she married a man she did not love and “settled down” for ever and ever and ever; though even this possibility seemed to have receded into the remote distance with the receding of her fortune.

Then she looked up to the stars, and down to the sand, and out to the East, seeing her freedom if she dared grasp it, if she dared venture out on the many days’ journey which, to her astonishment, she had learned stretched between Ismailiah and the oasis.

She scrutinised the man before her—­this Arab with the impassive face, the camels at his feet, her life in his hands if she went with him.

His what?  Wife! to settle down for ever and ever and ever.

His plaything?  This was not the man to play or be played with, for had he not said: 

“If you come with me, fear not that you will be a prisoner.  The oasis, the house, my servants, houses, camels, all will be yours, and there will be nothing to prevent your leaving it all—­nothing except the desert, the miles of pitiless sand, trackless, pathless, strewn with the white bones of those who have essayed to escape from Fate, the never-changing, ever-different ocean which beats about my dwelling.”

Then once again she looked into the dark eyes which were reading every passing emotion on the mobile face, and putting out her hands made one step towards the camel, whilst the soul of the desert laughed with her scarlet mouth.

CHAPTER XIII

A sharp word of command and the pack-camel rose, moved a few paces on its noiseless feet, swaying from side to side as though to readjust its load, whisked its miserable tail, and stretching out its long neck began to nibble the leaves of a flowering shrub.

Jill followed the beast, stroked its silky coat, and prodded one of the water skins filled to bursting.

“Will that be enough to last us all the way?  And what happens when we want to rest?  And do we do all the cooking and washing-up ourselves, just like a picnic?  What fun!” Which shows that Jill had no idea of what unlimited money can do to mitigate the discomfort of desert travelling by providing every possible comfort, even luxury.

“My servants have gone ahead with a caravan containing all that I think will be necessary for your comfort.  The journey takes many nights of travelling when the cool wind has tempered the scorching sands.  At sunrise we shall find our tents pitched, and you shall rest from then, an hour after dawn, until just before sunset, for it is unwise to be asleep at sunset in the desert.  When we halt your bath will be ready, your meals as you desire, your bed as soft and spotless as your own.”