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Dudley offered up a silent prayer to her heavenly Father that the Holy Spirit would teach them and guide them into all truth. She did not remain with the children to hear them as they talked together, but a few days afterwards she asked Eddie what Mary told him about Jesus. He repeated the history of his birth, of the cruel persecution of Herod, of his blameless life, and his death upon the cross.
He could at least feast his eyes upon the lines traced by her pen and press his lips to the page where her little hand had rested. His foot throbbed with dull persistence. He was conscious of being tired, but he must not sleep this night. Rough work possibly, at any rate, a man's work, awaited him there in the gloom of the silent clearing. Again his eye sought the whisky bottle and held.
"Have you got five dollars?" Clarence asked, doubtfully. By way of answer Bolton took a roll of bills from his pocket. They were those which Stephen Ray had given him. "Do you mean it?" asked Clarence, in a more respectful tone. Since Bolton had money, he regarded him differently. "Yes, I mean it." "Why didn't you ask pa?"
It was impossible to speak to him; to explain. The main facts he must see; that her husband was making love to her and that, however deep her love for him, she rejected him.
He showed him how to load, and then told him to lie down, as he had done, on his chest, and to steady the rifle with the left arm, the elbow being on the ground. "You must be quite comfortable," he said; "it is of no use trying to shoot if you are in a cramped position. Now, take a steady aim, and the moment you have got the two sights in a line on the rock, press the trigger steadily.
"You advised me to leave the yacht, and I'm leaving it." He saw then, with a pang of self-reproach, that she meant neither to explain nor to defend herself; that by his miserable silence he had forfeited all chance of helping her, and that the decisive hour was past. She had risen, and stood before him in a kind of clouded majesty, like some deposed princess moving tranquilly to exile.
"But Auntie, I don't love him." "Nonsense; you love him as much as most people love the men they marry. He's quite sensible. He doesn't want you to go mad about him." "He wants more than I can give him." "Well, all I can say is if you can't give him what he wants you'd no business to go about with him as you've been doing."
"But Hamza do much business in Luxor; I dunno if him come to the Fayyūm." He glanced deprecatingly at Mrs. Armine. "I very glad to come, but about Hamza I dunno." He spoke with such apparent sincerity that she was almost deceived, and thought that perhaps some difficulty had really arisen. "Offer him his own terms," exclaimed Nigel, "and I'll bet he'll be glad to come."
She did not turn away, as she had before. It flashed over him that once, not long ago, she had talked in a moment of confidence of the loneliness she had felt since she had embarked as the rescuer of amateur criminals. Graeme bent down and took her hand, as he had the first night when they had entered their strange partnership.
"I soon had occasion to repent my politeness, for Manoel, without hesitation, plunged his fork into the dish, and drank out of my glass; and great was his surprise when I called for another tumbler, and, extricating as much of the fowl as I chose to consume, left him in undisturbed possession of the remainder." His next meal Mr.
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