It was enough for the moment to lie with relaxed
muscles, to have to make no effort of any kind, to feel the soothing
rush of the wind against her face, and the swift, easy gallop of The
Hawk as he carried them on through the night. Them! With a start of
recollection she realised fully whose arm was round her, and whose
breast her head was resting on. Her heart beat with sudden violence.
What was the matter with her? Why did she not shrink from the pressure
of his arm and the contact of his warm, strong body? What had happened
to her? Quite suddenly she knew--knew that she loved him, that she had
loved him for a long time, even when she thought she hated him and when
she had fled from him. She knew now why his face had haunted her in the
little oasis at midday--that it was love calling to her subconsciously.
All the confusion of mind that had assailed her when they started on
the homeward journey, the conflicting thoughts and contrary emotions,
were explained. But she knew herself at last and knew the love that
filled her, an overwhelming, passionate love that almost frightened her
with its immensity and with the sudden hold it had laid upon her. Love
had come to her at last who had scorned it so fiercely. The men who had
loved her had not had the power to touch her, she had given love to no
one, she had thought that she could not love, that she was devoid of
all natural affection and that she would never know what love meant.
But she knew now--a love of such complete surrender that she had never
conceived. Her heart was given for all time to the fierce desert man
who was so different from all other men whom she had met, a lawless
savage who had taken her to satisfy a passing fancy and who had treated
her with merciless cruelty. He was a brute, but she loved him, loved
him for his very brutality and superb animal strength. And he was an
Arab! A man of different race and colour, a native; Aubrey would
indiscriminately class him as a "damned nigger." She did not care. It
made no difference. A year ago, a few weeks even, she would have
shuddered with repulsion at the bare idea, the thought that a native
could even touch her had been revolting, but all that was swept away
and was nothing in the face of the love that filled her heart so
completely. She did not care if he was an Arab, she did not care what
he was, he was the man she loved. She was deliriously, insanely happy.
She was lying against his heart, and the clasp of his arm was joy
unspeakable. She was utterly content; for the moment all life narrowed
down to the immediate surroundings, and she wished childishly that they
could ride so for ever through eternity. The night was brilliant. The
stars blazed against the inky blackness of the sky, and the light of
the full moon was startlingly clear and white. The discordant yelling
of a pack of hunting jackals came from a little distance, breaking the
perfect stillness.