Only a few hours before he had come to her in all the magnificence of
his strength. She looked at the long limbs lying now so still, so
terribly, suggestively still, and her lips trembled again, but her
pain-filled eyes were dry. She could not cry, only her throat ached and
throbbed perpetually. She leaned over him whispering his name, and a
sudden hunger came to her to touch him, to convince herself that he was
not dead. She glanced back over her shoulder at Saint Hubert, but he
had gone to the open doorway to speak to Yusef, and was standing out
under the awning. She bent lower over the unconscious man; his lips
were parted slightly, and the usual sternness of his mouth was relaxed.
"Ahmed, oh, my dear!" she whispered unsteadily, and kissed him with
lips that quivered against the stillness of his. Then for a moment she
dropped her bright head beside the bandaged one on the pillow, but when
the Vicomte came back she was kneeling where he had left her, her hands
clasped over one of the Sheik's and her face hidden against the
cushions.
Saint Hubert put his hand on her shoulder. "Diane, you are torturing
yourself unnecessarily. We cannot know for some time how it will go
with him. Try and get some sleep for a few hours. You can do no good by
staying here. Henri and I will watch. I will call you if there is any
change, my word of honour."
She shook her head without looking up. "I can't go. I couldn't sleep."
Saint Hubert did not press it. "Very well," he said quietly, "but if
you are going to stay you must take off your riding-boots and put on
something more comfortable than those clothes."
She realised the sense of what he was saying, and obeyed him without a
word. She even had to admit to herself a certain sensation of relief
after she had bathed her aching head and throat, and substituted a
thin, silk wrap for the torn, stained riding-suit.
Henri was pouring out coffee when she came back, and Saint Hubert
turned to her with a cup in his outstretched hand. "Please take it. It
will do you good," he said, with a little smile that was not reflected
in his anxious eyes.
She took it unheeding, and, swallowing it hastily, went to the side of
the divan again. She slid down on to the rug where she had knelt
before. The Sheik was lying as she had left him. For a few moments she
looked at him, then drowsily her eyes closed and her head fell forward
on the cushions, and with a half-sad smile of satisfaction Saint Hubert
gathered her up into his arms.