"Ah," he replied, "they were born here. Where one's native land is ... that is where one wants to be ... except adventurous young ladies who would go to the other end of the earth."
"It is because their work takes them there," pointed out Alice.
"To India ... land of strange spices and unsolved mysteries."
Then he talked about Vesuvius and the great eruption that had destroyed cities like Pompeii and Herculaneum. He was interesting.
He took us to a restaurant and we sat outside under gaily coloured umbrellas and watched the people passing by. He encouraged us to talk, and I found myself telling him about the rectory and Lady Harriet and how I had been to a finishing school in France. Alice said little about herself and it suddenly occurred to me that he did not prompt her to do so, although he listened avidly to what I told him.
I thought perhaps I was talking too much, and made up my mind to ask Alice when we were alone if this had been so.
Finally it was time to return to the Oriental Queen. It had been a most enjoyable day.
I said to Alice when we were alone, "Do you think I talked too much?"
"He certainly encouraged you to."
"I noticed you said little about yourself."
"I thought he did not want to hear. It was you in whom he was interested."
"I wonder ... if he really is, or whether he was just being polite."
"Oh, there is no doubt that he was very interested in what you said, and yet ..."
"And yet what?"
"Oh ... just a thought. I am not sure that I trust him."
"In what way?"
"He seems a little speculative ..."
"I did not get the idea that he was the least bit ... flirtatious."
"No. That is what makes it rather odd."
"Oh, Alice, you are being dramatic. I think he is just a lonely man who wants companionship. He travels a great deal. He probably becomes friendly with people for a few weeks and then forgets all about them."
"H'm," said Alice, but she was rather thoughtful.
In due course we arrived at Alexandria, where we left the Oriental Queen, boarded a steam barge and sailed up the canal to Cairo.
Monsieur Lasseur had explained to us what would happen. We would spend one night in a hotel—preferably Shepheards —and from Cairo we would make our journey across the desert to Suez in a sort of covered wagon. These wagons were in constant use, carrying people to where they could embark on the next stage of the journey by sea.
It was very exciting to be on dry land after so much time at sea, and we were impressed by the grandeur of the hotel, which was unlike any we had seen. It appeared to be dark and shadowy, and silent-footed men in exotic robes glided about watching us intently with their darting dark eyes.
Monsieur Lasseur told us that there was a constant stream of travellers—mostly going to and from India.
From the moment we entered the hotel, I noticed the man. He was in European dress, and was tall and broad, which made him immediately noticeable. When we came into the hotel after leaving the carriage that had brought us there in the company of the other passengers who were taking the route to India, he seemed to be aware of us. He rose from the chair in which he had been sitting and came close to the desk, where we were being asked our names and informed about our sleeping quarters.
"Miss Philwright and Miss Delany," said the clerk at the desk. "Your room is on the first floor. It is small, but as you see we are very crowded. Here is your key."
The tall man was very close to us then. I wondered what he was doing there, as he was not one of our party. But Alice was pulling at my arm. "Come on," she said. "It's only for one night. We shall be leaving early in the morning."
Excited though I was, I slept well, and I was awakened very early next morning by Alice telling me it was time we got up.
The trip across the desert was to be made in those covered wagons, which were very much as Monsieur Lasseur had described them. They were drawn by four horses and we were told that there were several caravanserais in the desert where we could rest while the horses were changed. Six people rode in each wagon.
Monsieur Lasseur said, "Let us go together. I feel I must keep an eye on you two young ladies. I know from experience how uncomfortable these journeys can be. The drivers are very handy with their whips and their one aim seems to be to get the wagon to the caravanserai as quickly as possible. I am afraid you will find the journey somewhat exhausting."
"As I have already told you, Monsieur Lasseur, it is all so new to us that we are ready to face a little discomfort," I reminded him.
I shall never forget riding through Cairo in the early morning. The buildings looked mysterious in the half light. We passed elegant mosques, one of the palaces of the Khedive, and latticed houses which would have delighted Dougal, who would have seen the Saracen influence in their shadowy walls. Because it was so early the city had not sprung to life, which it would shortly do. I saw just a few donkeys led by small, barefooted boys. There was a hush over the place, but the sun was about to rise, and in the light of dawn Cairo looked like an enchanted city, as though it belonged in the Arabian nights. I could well imagine a loquacious Scheherazade entertaining her sultan behind the doors of some ancient palace.
There were six of us in the wagon: myself, Alice, Monsieur Lasseur, Mr. and Mrs. Carling and, to my surprise, the tall man whom I had noticed in the hotel.
I wondered if he was going to join the steamer that was taking us to India or whether his destination, like that of Monsieur Lasseur, was merely Suez.
Soon the desert closed round us. It was now light enough to see the miles of sand. It was golden in the dawn light. I was fascinated. Then the driver whipped up his horses and we had to concentrate on keeping our seats.
"I told you," said Monsieur Lasseur, "it was hardly a comfortable journey."
We laughed as we were flung against each other. Mrs. Carling said it was a mercy it could not last for long, and Mr. Carling commented that when one undertook such a journey one must be prepared for discomforts. Monsieur Lasseur remarked that there were certain things in life that were wonderful to anticipate and look back on, but less agreeable to experience, and travel often proved to be one of them.
The tall man smiled benignly on us. He seemed to divide his interest between Monsieur Lasseur and me, and whenever I looked up I would find his eyes fixed gravely on one of us.
The horses rattled on.
"What happens if the wagon overturns?" I asked.
"Which," added Mr. Carling, "it might well do if it goes on like this. I don't think our driver realizes what he is putting us through."
"His idea is to get rid of one load, receive his money and then on to the next," explained Monsieur Lasseur.
"But if there is an accident surely that would delay him," I suggested.
"Oh, he is confident that Allah will look after him."
"I wish I shared his confidence," said Alice.
We were all relieved when the horses pulled up. Poor things, they must have been very weary. I knew we all felt considerably battered and we welcomed the short respite before the ordeal started again.
As we alighted I noticed the tall man stayed close to us.
The heat of the desert was intense, for it was round about noon. We had been going for some six hours and were glad of the shelter, although our resting place was like a hut, but the stables adjoining it were extensive.
Beverages were served, and I was glad to see that there was tea. There was food—bread and meat of some indefinable kind, which I declined.