Then the sudden panic to which she had given way subsided and her

courage rose with a bound. It was only midday, anything might happen

between then and nightfall. Of one thing only she was sure, she did not

repent of what she had done. Behind her was Ahmed Ben Hassan and before

her was possibly death, and death was preferable. She was quite calm

again and lay down in the patch of shade once more with a resolute

determination to mind. Time to think of them when they came. For the

next hour or two she must rest and escape the intense heat. She rolled

over on her face with her head in her arms and tried to sleep, but she

was too excited, and soon gave up the attempt. And in any case, she

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argued with herself, she might sleep too long and lose precious time.

She stretched luxuriously on the soft ground, thankful for the shade

from the burning sun. The grey, tired of nosing round the well and

blowing disdainfully at the thorn bushes, wandered over to her side and

nuzzled her gently. She caught at his velvety nose and drew it down

beside her face. He was a very affectionate beast and gentler than most

of the other horses, and he pressed close up to her, whinnying softly

and looking at her with large expressive eyes. "I haven't anything to

give you, poor old boy," she said regretfully, kissing his muzzle and

then pushing him away from her. She looked up again into the sky, a

dark speck sailed overhead, the slow heavy flight of a vulture. In a

few hours he might be picking her bones! Merciful Heavens! Why did such

thoughts come into her head? Had she nothing left of the courage that

had once been second nature? If she let her nerves get the upper hand

she might as well make no further effort, but lie down and die at once.

With shaking fingers she took another cigarette; smoking would soothe

her. Yet she hesitated before she lit it; there were only a few left

and her need might still be greater. But with a reckless laugh she

snapped the thin case to, and carefully scraped the evil-smelling

sulphur match torn from a flat wood strip. She settled herself

comfortably again full length. All around her were the innumerable tiny

noises of the desert, the hum of countless insect life, the rustling of

the sand and the occasional dry crackle of the camel thorns made by the

slipping of a twig or the displacing of a branch, sounds that would

have been incomprehensible some weeks before. For a few minutes a sand

spider attracted her attention and she watched his hurried painstaking

operations with wondering interest. Gradually a drowsy feeling stole

over her and she realised suddenly that the air was impregnated with

the scent of the tobacco that was always associated with the Sheik.




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