Sir Aubrey swore. "Diana! What a senseless piece of bravado!" he cried
angrily.
She took no notice of him. She was still staring at the smooth rock
fate. "I don't understand it. How could I miss? It's as big as a
house," she murmured thoughtfully, and raised the revolver again.
But Sir Aubrey caught her wrist. "For God's sake don't make a fool of
yourself a second time. You have lowered your prestige quite enough
already," he said in a low voice, with a glance at the group of
watching Arabs.
Diana jerked the little weapon back into its place reluctantly. "I
don't understand it," she said again. "It must be the light." She
mounted and wheeled her horse alongside of Sir Aubrey's, and held out
her hand. "Good-bye, Aubrey. Expect me a month after you arrive. I will
cable to you from Cherbourg. Good luck! I shall roll up in time to be
best man," she added, laughing, and with a nod to Mustafa Ali she
turned her horse's head southwards.
For a long time she rode in silence. The quarrel with Aubrey had left a
nasty taste in her mouth. She knew that what she was doing was
considered unconventional, but she had been brought up to be
unconventional. She had never even thought, when she planned her tour,
of possible criticism; it would have made no difference to her if she
had thought, and she had been amazed and amused at the sensation that
her proposed trip had caused. The publicity to which it had given rise
had annoyed her intensely; she had been scornful that people could not
occupy themselves with their own affairs and leave her to deal with
hers.
But that Aubrey should join in the general criticism and present
such a complete volte-face to the opinions he had always held
was beyond her comprehension. She was angry with him, and contempt was
mingled with her anger. It was inconsistent with the whole of his
lifelong attitude toward her, and the discovery of his altered ideas
left her rather breathless and more than ever determined to adhere to
her own deeply-rooted convictions. Aubrey was responsible for them, he
had instilled them, and if he chose now to abandon them that was his
look-out. For her own part she saw no reason to change principles she
had been brought up in. If Aubrey really thought there was danger in
this expedition he could have sacrificed himself for once and come with
her. As Jim Arbuthnot had said, it was only a month, a negligible
length of time, but Aubrey's selfishness would not allow him to make
that concession any more than her own obstinacy would allow her to give
way. It was too much to expect. And this was the desert! It was the
expedition that she had dreamed of and planned for years. She could not
give it up. The idea of danger brought a little laugh to her lips. How
could anything in the desert hurt her? It had been calling to her
always. There was nothing strange about the scene that lay all around
her.