The hoarse, throaty cries from Anthonys tent
filled all thesleeping camp with alarm.
Itwas more powerful than anything he had
known.
Futa-Jaloon, indeed, was a small outpost of
the Orient.
That figure had melteddown at last and now lay
almost sublimed. The two stood close together for a moment.
But he knew nothing about that at the time.
Heextolled the healthy air of the hills as the best way to recoverfrom
fever.
He lay in his tent experiencing a sensation of
lightnessakin to intoxication. Ferdinandonoticed it, and so did Anthony as he
lay awake through the longnight hours. But she felt that it was Mnombibi who
had been the realcause of Brother Francoiss departure.
Half-way downBrother François took off his
sandals and shook the dust off them.
The man was much excited by what Neleta was
showing him. The hoarse, throaty cries from Anthonys tent filled all
thesleeping camp with alarm.
Someonetangled with the bell rope and a brazen
clamour as of fire bellsbroke out.
As became a Mohammedan, Amahs outlook upon
things was somewhatfatalistic.
It was old Mehemet Ali, the leader of the
caravan, whofinally persuaded him to leave.
She wasstill swinging at anchor waiting for
the down-tide.
Butit was heavenly to lie quiet, feeling as if
gravity itself hadrelented.
But she felt that it was Mnombibi who had been
the realcause of Brother Francoiss departure.
He wound his arms aroundthis strong impalpable
thing more precious to him than a dyingchild.
Language, indeed, had not stood between them
long. Existence, and not the ways and means of it, was now the end
inview.
Ferdinando,however, with the triumph of
Mnombibi thoroughly in mind, gave nosigns of wilting.
Old Mehemet stood by uneasily peering through
his foolish, wise-looking glasses.
Towards midnight Brother François rose and
went into his chapel tobe alone.
Brother François,he remembered, had often been
away for as much as a week or two ata time.
She acted at times as if she were frightened
orwas holding something back.