CHAPTER XXX.

FROM MISS BEATRICE POLES TO MISS EMILY——

"He has come back to us! They have all come back to us! I am beside myself, and my heart is overflowing with joy! These men, I tell you, my dear Emily, are splendid! And so modest! If I ask M. de Morin, he refuses to tell me anything about himself. He declares that his adventures amongst the Nomads are not worth the trouble of recounting, and that it was neither more nor less than a trivial excursion, too insignificant even to be mentioned in our diaries of the trip. But, if I mention MM. Périères and Delange, it is quite another thing, and he exclaims at once that they are superb. Delange, he says, for a doctor, is a marvel; he is evidently concealing his past life from us, and he must have served in the Zouaves, or the Chasseurs d'Afrique, a seasoned warrior, with all the discipline of an old soldier and the dashing intrepidity of a young one. As for M. Périères, he says that he does not know which to admire the most in him, his boldness or his coolness in danger.

"Fortunately for us, the journalist and the doctor, in their turn, enlighten us about M. de Morin, who, they affirm, is a prodigy of recklessness, patience, dash, courage and energy. His good temper and spirits never deserted him, and it is to these qualities alone, so these two gentlemen say, that they owe their escape, safe and sound, from their terrible adventure.

"It appears that whilst on the road to Djiddah, our caravan encountered fresh dangers. The Bedouins who followed them were on the point of attacking them, but the good temper and self-possession of M. de Morin gained the day. Would you believe, dearest, that he actually succeeded in securing a meal for himself and his men, of which they stood in great need, I assure you? They halted about two in the afternoon at a sort of oasis which they came across on the road, and there they breakfasted, pistol in hand, be it remembered. Joseph waited upon both Europeans and Bedouins, and these latter individuals were in convulsions of laughter, which you would readily understand if I had given you all the details of this memorable expedition. I am, however, habitually discursive in my letters, and I invariably leave plenty of gaps. But, then, I always imagine that you are at my side as I write, and that you must have heard all that has reached my ears.

"This breakfast seems to have been a very curious affair. The Bedouin women had prepared on the previous evening a supply of couscoussou, the favourite dish of the Arabs, and, like good managers, they had, at the moment of departure, put in the saddle-bags a sufficiency for the needs of their own people. Our friends, having tasted it, found it excellent, and as a _quid pro quo_, they presented the Bedouins with some excellent tobacco and cigars, and so put them in a good humour. But the acme of their enjoyment was to come. Breakfast over, M. de Morin expressed his intention of having a snooze, very natural under the circumstances, when M. Delange said to him—

"'Pardon me, but before going to sleep, we must turn our attention to a game at cards. We have not had one to-day, and if we get on horseback it will be difficult. This, as I take it, is a very opportune moment.'

"'But I am dead sleepy,' said the young painter, trying to get out of it.

"'So am I,' replied M. Delange, 'but a quarter of an hour's rest will only make us melancholy. So long as we cannot sleep for twenty-four or thirty-six hours at a stretch, we had better not sleep at all. Come along, and whilst our camels are trying to find a blade or two of grass, we will have just one game at écarté, if you have no objection.'

"'Surely you did not think of bringing any cards with you?' said M. de Morin.

"'They are the only things, on the contrary, I remembered. I forgot water, biscuits, everything except cards.'

"'Very well,' replied the painter, resigned to his lot.

"They sat down, face to face, cross-legged on the sand, and the Bedouins, deeply interested in this novel proceeding, grouped themselves round the pair. When they saw the little red and black pips, the kings, queens, and knaves mixed, jumbled up together, and falling one on the top of another, they were seized afresh with a fit of laughter, not even inferior to that which Joseph had provoked.

"The game was no sooner over than they laid hands on the cards, anxious to fathom the secrets of the game, and M. Delange generously gave them up.

"Our poor companions were worn out with fatigue when they rejoined us at the Consulate. But our joy at seeing them once more re-animated them.

"'Ah! Miss Poles, in seeing you I lose all thought of sleep,' said M. Delange. The doctor is charming. I no longer grudge him his passion for gambling. I have come to the pass, I confess, of loving even his faults.

"The French Consul was delighted at the success achieved by his fellow-countrymen, but he advised us to quit Djiddah as soon as possible. He feared lest, jealous of our triumph, and ashamed of their own inertness and impotence, the Turkish authorities should try to excite some unpleasant feeling, or induce the populace to fix a quarrel upon us.

"'You must never forget,' he said, 'so long as you are in a Mussulman country, the well-known proverb, 'The body of an unbeliever is not worth the trouble taken by a jackal to eat it!'

"On the quay we met the Bedouin, Abou-Zamil, waiting to claim his reward, which M. Périères gave him at once. It is ill-placed generosity, but Europeans are bound to teach these barbarians that their word is as good as their bond.

"Our steamer started as soon as we got on board, and the French flag at the Consulate was dipped in our honour.

"We are now making direct for Souakim, and we have to cross the Red Sea at its greatest breadth, whilst bearing at the same time several degrees southwards."