Burning Sands

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

  CHAPTER XX--PRIVATE INTERESTS

  When Benifett Bindane found himself writing "February 1st" upon hisletters, he suddenly became the victim of a violent fit of energy. Timewas passing, and not much progress had been made with his great schemefor the floating of the Egyptian Oases Development Company. By nature hewas indolent, and he had thoroughly enjoyed his three months basking inthe Egyptian sun. It was always a great pleasure to him to sit in thewarmest corner of a veranda, to glance at the _Financial News_, and thento stare in front of him with an empty countenance and a mind full ofwonderful commercial schemes.

  He had the habit of thinking in millions; and his brain, in many ways sodeficient, was capable of visualizing an extraordinarily prolongedrepetition of the figure "o" at the end of any sum in pounds sterling.

  He had quickly made himself master of all the available information inregard to the territory in question, but there were a great many pointson which he desired enlightenment before he made his projected grandtour through the Oases at the end of this month. He wished to go therefully primed, so that he should not fail to take note of all thosematters on which personal observation might prove to be of value; butnow the calendar had awakened him to the fact of the days' rapidpassage, and he was obliged to make a serious effort to put somestiffening into the loose fabric of his bones and brain.

  In the secret council-chamber of his mind he had decided that DanielLane was the one man really essential to the project, and it was hismain object now to enlist his services. He wondered what was the lowesthigh salary that would tempt him; and he thought out many very fantasticschemes for getting him away from the Residency. Lady Muriel was thereal obstacle; for Kate had kept him informed as to the progress of herfriend's love affair, and he realized that as matters now stood therewould be the utmost difficulty in persuading Daniel to abandon hispresent post. Steps, however, in the desired direction ought to betaken; and at any rate there would be no harm in ascertaining thepossibilities of the matter.

  He therefore telephoned to Lord Blair asking for an immediate interview;and as the clock struck noon he was being ushered into the Great Man'spresence.

  Lord Blair received him in a very businesslike manner. A large map ofthe Oases was spread upon the writing-table, entirely covering thechronic litter of papers heaped thereon, and, indeed, covering thegreater part of his lordship himself as he sat in his desk-chair; whileupon a side-table there were numerous chorographic memoranda, and avariety of type-written reports made upon the subject the last fewyears.

  Lord Blair opened the proceedings by describing to his visitor thearrangements which had already been made for the forthcoming tour.

  "The camels and camping-equipment are bespoken," he said; "perhaps youwould like to see the list of articles to be supplied."

  He lifted the map, and dived his head under it in search of thedocument, while Benifett Bindane stared vacantly at the folds of thelarge sheet which rose and fell, like pantomime waves, as Lord Blairmoved about under it.

  At length the long type-written inventory was found, and for someminutes Mr. Bindane stared at it with dull, watery eyes. He might havebeen thought to have gone off into a trance; and Lord Blair had begun tofidget when at last the list was handed back.

  "Please add 'one tea-tray' and 'one toasting-fork,'" said Mr. Bindane."That's all that is omitted, I think."

  Lord Blair was profoundly impressed; but his rising enthusiasm wassomewhat damped when presently his visitor broached the subject whichwas uppermost in his mind.

  "There are certain points about which I wish to be informed," said Mr.Bindane, "before I go out to the Oases." He drew a piece of paper fromhis pocketbook. "Here they are. Do you think it would be possible forMr. Lane to give me his help?"

  "Mr. Lane?" queried Lord Blair. "Why?"

  "Because I think Mr. Lane's advice is essential to the scheme," repliedMr. Bindane.

  Lord Blair spread out his hands. "Oh, but I don't think he can be sparedjust now," he protested.

  "I thought I understood you to tell me," said the other, "that thepolitical situation was extremely quiet just at present. I was hopingyou might let Mr. Lane turn his attention now to the Oases."

  "My dear sir," Lord Blair replied, leaning back in his chair, "the quiettimes that we are having, that we are enjoying, are very largely due toDaniel Lane. His influence with the natives is extraordinary, quitephenomenal."

  "Yes, I know," Mr. Bindane replied, his face devoid of expression. "Thatis why I want him for the scheme."

  Lord Blair leaned forward. "I don't quite follow. Do I understand you tomean that you want him to be associated definitely with the enterprise?"

  Benifett Bindane's mouth fell open more loosely than usual, and for asecond or two he stared vacantly before him. "Yes," he answered, atlength. "I want him to be our General Manager."

  Lord Blair started. "Tut, tut!" he ejaculated, "By the time the companyis floated I expect Daniel Lane will have made himself altogetherindispensable to his Majesty's Government here at the Residency."

  There was an uncomfortable silence. "I was counting on his support,"said Mr. Bindane, presently. "Without it I don't know whether I would beinclined to find the necessary capital."

  Lord Blair instantly accepted the challenge. "Then the project will haveto be shelved," he replied, sharply: and when he spoke sharply there wasno doubt about his being the "Great Man."

  Benifett Bindane, however, appeared to be entirely unmoved. "I don'tthink Mr. Lane is as happy now as he was when he lived in the desert,"he mused.

  Lord Blair rose to his feet. "Please regard his services as unavailable,quite unavailable, for this project," he said deliberately, "except inan occasional advisory capacity."

  Mr. Bindane had also risen, and now the two stood facing one another.Outwardly the trim, eager little man and the tall, lifeless figurebefore him might have appeared to the eye to be friendly enough; but areader of hearts would have detected in them two opposing forces arrayedfor battle, the one having in mind the extension of the prestige ofEngland, the other the increase of his private fortune.

  Meanwhile, in the library, another of life's little plays was beingenacted.

  Lord Barthampton had come to the Residency to invite Lady Muriel to apicnic on the following day, and she had just disappointed him by sayingthat she was already engaged. He had arrived with such a flourish,spanking up to the door in his high dogcart, his little "tiger" leapingto the cob's head as he pulled up, and the morning sunshine sparkling onthe harness and the varnished woodwork; and now, after waiting a verylong time in the rather severe library, Lady Muriel had come in and hadtold him that every moment of her time was booked up apparently forweeks to come.

  "I never seem to get the chance to say half a dozen words to you," hegrunted, feeling thoroughly put out. "You women are all so mad abouthaving a good time that you can't spare a moment for us lonely fellows."

  Muriel was quite concerned at his depression, and asked him whether hewould have a glass of port or a whiskey-and-soda.

  "No, I will not," he said, with a gloomy laugh. "I'm on the water-waggonfor your sake, and you don't even say you're glad."

  "O, but I am," she answered. "I'm awfully glad. I think you've showntrue British grit. You're one of the old Bulldog Breed, and, when onceyou've set your jaw, nothing can get the better of you."

  Somehow she could not help pulling this man's leg; and she spoke to himin this strain the more readily in that he evidently appreciated thelanguage of what she called the Submerged Male.

  "God knows it's been a struggle," he said: and, turning away from her,he stared out of the window.

  "How did you get into all those bad habits?" she asked, looking at himwith interest.

  "Oh, India, I suppose," he replied, with a shrug. "When one's east ofSuez, and the memsahibs have all gone home...."

  She stopped him with a gesture. There were limits to the game ofleg-pulling; and if he were going to become Anglo-Indian in his phrases,the jest would be i
ntolerable.

  "I'm so sorry I can't come to your picnic," she said, checking the driftof the conversation. "I'd come if I possibly could, but I've got toattend a meeting."

  "A meeting?" he asked, in astonishment. "That sounds a funny thing foryou to be doing."

  "I'm honorary President of a fund for helping poor European children inEgypt," she explained. "It's a very worthy object, I believe."

  He seized his opportunity. "Yes, we've all got to help the unfortunate,hav'n't we?" he said. "I do all too little myself--just a yearlydonation."

  Muriel was impressed, and questioned him.

  "Yes," he told her, "I always try to give between L500 and L1,000 a yearto the poor."

  "I call that very fine of you," she declared, warming to himimmediately.

  "Oh, it's nothing," he answered. "I'm blessed with abundance, you know;and I like to practise what I preach. I'm not like _some_ fellows Icould mention--full of high principles in public, and full of sins insecret."

  "Who are you thinking of, specially?" she asked, noticing the markedinflection in his words.

  He hesitated. "Well, Cousin Daniel, for example."

  "Oh, Daniel's all right," she replied.

  "I don't know so much about that," he laughed. "There are some thingsyou couldn't understand, little woman. But ... well, there are somepretty tough female devils in the Cairo underworld; and Master Danielhas been seen more than once in low cafes and places with a girl who'sknown as the 'worst woman in Egypt'--the famous Lizette: but I don'tsuppose you've heard of her."

  The words were like a knife in Muriel's heart. So people were right,then, about Daniel's disreputable character.

  "Oh, that's all past," she replied, hardly knowing what she said.

  "No, it isn't," he answered. "Only the day before yesterday one of mybrother-officers saw him with her. And I saw him myself dining with hernot so long ago--in fact I tried to separate them. I admit it was onlyfor the honour of our family that I interfered. He was drunk, I think,and wanted to fight me."

  Muriel stared at him with round, frightened eyes; but Lord Barthamptonhad shot his arrow, and now desired only to make his escape.

  "I must be going," he said, nervously. "I oughtn't to have told youthat: it slipped out."

  He could see plainly enough that she was grievously wounded; and hisconscience certainly smote him, though it smote with a gentle forgivinghand.

  She turned away from him with tears in her eyes; and he, feelingdecidedly awkward, bade her "good-bye," and hastened out of the room.

  In the hall he came upon Benifett Bindane, who was also making towardsthe front door. The two malefactors greeted one another; and Mr. Bindanebeing, as Kate had said, "very fond of lords," attached himself to theyounger man with evident pleasure.

  "That's a smart turn-out," he remarked, as they came out of the houseinto the glare of the sunshine.

  "Give you a lift?" asked Lord Barthampton. "Anywhere you like."

  "Thanks," the other replied. "I'm going to the Turf Club."

  "Right-o!" said his friend. "In you get. Hold her head, damn you, youlittle black monkey!" he shouted to the diminutive groom. "Nowthen!--_imshee riglak!_"--which he believed to be Arabic.

  They drove off at a rattling pace, presently scattering the nativetraffic in the open square outside the Kars-el-Nil barracks, and nearlyunseating a venerable sheikh from his slow-moving donkey.

  "Why don't you get out of the way!" shouted Lord Barthampton, turning ared face to the mild brown wrinkles of the clinging rider. "Lord! theseniggers make me impatient."

  "Yes," said his companion, who always disliked a show of temper, "Inotice that it's only the English resident officials who have learned tobe patient with them."

  Arrived at the Turf Club, Lord Barthampton accepted Mr. Bindane'sinvitation to refresh himself with dry ginger-ale; for, during thedrive, a good idea (with him something of a rarity) had come into hishead. He had suddenly recollected that Kate Bindane was Lady Muriel'sbosom friend; and it had occurred to him that if he could obtain thesympathy of the husband, the wife might plead his cause. It would bebetter not to say very much: he would adopt the manner which, he feltsure, was natural to him, namely that of the stern, silent Englishman.

  He therefore lowered his brows as he entered the club, and looked withfrowning melancholy upon the groups of laughing and chattering young menabout him.

  "God, what a noise!" he muttered as he sank into a seat.

  Mr. Bindane stared vacantly around, and waving a flapper-like hand to apassing waiter, ordered the ginger-ale as though he were totallyindifferent as to whether he ever got it or not.

  "I'm feeling a bit blue today," said Lord Barthampton, leaning backgloomily in his chair.

  "What's the matter?" asked his friend.

  "I'm in love," was the short reply.

  Mr. Bindane was mildly interested. "Who with?" he asked.

  "Lady Muriel," the other replied, between his clenched teeth. He wasanxious to convey an impression of sorrow sternly controlled.

  "A very charming young lady," said Mr. Bindane, "and my wife's bestfriend."

  "Yes, that's why I'm telling you," replied Lord Barthampton, lookingknowingly at him. "I've been wondering if you could get her to put in aword for me."

  "I'll see," said Benifett Bindane.

  "Thanks awfully," answered his companion.

  That was all. There was no more said upon the subject; but CharlesBarthampton felt that the brief and pointed conversation had been veryBritish and straightforward. There had been no mincing of matters; whathe had said had been short and soldierly, as man to man.

  When he was once more alone, Mr. Bindane lay for awhile loosely in thedeep red-leather chair. His open mouth, his vacant eyes, the perpetualpallor of his face, and his crumpled attitude of collapse, might haveled an observer to suppose that he had passed quietly away. He was,however, merely absorbed in a series of interesting thoughts. He wasthinking that a possible engagement between Lady Muriel and LordBarthampton would probably have the effect of sending Daniel Lane backto the desert in despair. He was thinking what a great deal of tactwould be needed in buying up the land of the Oases from the natives, ashe intended ultimately to do. He was thinking how very tactful DanielLane was said to be; and how wasted, commercially, he seemed to be atthe Residency.