A moment or two later the car came to rest at the foot of the steps leading to the terrace of the Heliopolis House Hotel. When I had handed her out, I addressed my companion.
“Don’t be long,” I said. “I want you to have that joy-ride.”
“Not half as much as I do,” she flung over her shoulder.
I re-entered the car and lighted a cigarette. On the opposite side of the road two white saddle-donkeys were discussing a little heap of green food, while their boys, dressed in white
abbas
, were squatting on the pavement, keeping a careful eye on the hotel on the look-out for custom. I watched them lazily.
It was, as ever in Egypt, a beautiful day. The sky was cloudless and the sun blazing. And this was but the end of February. I felt glad that we were going to leave before the summer. My watch showed me that it was just four o’clock. It seemed strange that in an hour or two it would be bitterly cold. Still, sundown was not yet.
My reflections were interrupted by the appearance of a porter bearing a good-looking hunting-saddle which he deposited by the side of the driver. Miss Feste followed him down the steps, and I got out of the car.
“I’m going to try it,” she said. “If I like it, d’you think it’s worth ten pounds?”
I had a look at it and found the name of the maker.
“My opinion is valueless,” I said, “but I should say it was dirt cheap. More. If you don’t buy it, I will. And now for the aerodrome, or, at any rate, Abbasiya.”
My apprehension was well founded. There were, it appeared, most stringent orders in force regarding the carrying of passengers on board His Majesty’s planes.
“They’ll wink at you,” said Geoffrey pensively, “but a lady! Gosh! I should be dismembered if they got to know.”
“Oh, then I mustn’t,” said Miss Feste. “I couldn’t think of—”
“I’ll tell you what,” said he slowly. “D’you mind standing up and letting me see the length of your skirt.”
Miss Feste stood obediently to attention. Solemnly Geoffrey nodded his head. I regarded them wonderingly.
“Look here, Miss Feste,” he said, “you’ll have to wear a cap and a coat and goggles, and that’ll cover you up pretty well. The only trouble is your ankles. I’ve got a new pair of slacks I’ve never put on. If you like to wear them just anyhow – the top part doesn’t matter, so long as they stick out under the coat.”
He stopped, blushing furiously.
Miss Feste was shaking with laughter.
“Geoffrey,” I said, “you surprise even me. When you are older, you will writhe with shame to remember – Stop, I’ve got it. Never mind your new slacks. Have you got an old pair you don’t want? ”
“Stacks,” said Geoffrey.
“And scissors and garters?”
“Garters? Will leather ones do?”
I nodded, and he ran out of the ante-room. Fortunately we had the place to ourselves. When he returned, I spread the slacks upon a table and proceeded to turn them into a pair of shorts by hacking off the legs above the knee.
“For Heaven’s sake,” cried Miss Feste, “what are you doing? The suspense is awful. Which part am I to wear?”
I turned to Geoffrey.
“Is the plane ready?” I asked.
He pointed out of the window. There we could see mechanics busy about a Handley-Page.
“I am supposed to be taking her up in ten minutes’ time,” he said, glancing at a clock on the mantelpiece.
“We’ll leave you for fifty seconds,” said I to Adèle. “Let me give you the recipe. Insert the foot delicately into the cylinder of cloth.” I pointed to the two trouser legs. “Then raise same slowly till the turn up is on a level with the high heel. Make fast with garter below the hock. Keep cool and wear with a rich sauce. Will twenty-five seconds a leg be enough?”
“I daren’t,” said Adèle, looking about her. “Supposing somebody were to come in?”
“Not likely,” said Geoffrey. “They’re all at the sports.”
The next moment I was outside the room, struggling into a leather coat. When we returned, Miss Feste was standing on a table, trying to see herself in the mirror above the fireplace. To all appearances she was wearing a filthy pair of slacks by way of pantaloons. It was sacrilege, but it gave the desired effect. When we had disguised her in leather coat, flying helmet, and goggles, nobody would have given her a second look. Only the little brown-shod feet looked smaller than ever.
While she and Geoffrey were strolling across the aerodrome, I deposited her bent straw hat in the car.
“Wait,” I said to the chauffeur.
“Or-right, or-right.”
If I had been sitting by the side of the pilot, instead of crouched on a petrol tin in the gunner’s cockpit, I should have realized what was happening sooner than I did. As it was, of my simplicity I believed that Geoffrey was bringing us down so that we might have a closer view of the Pyramids, for at the time we were close to Mena. Only when we were about two hundred feet up and still descending did I look round. The first thing I noticed was the frown on the pilot’s face. Geoffrey was looking as black as thunder. He was also peering disdainfully from side to side. Meeting my gaze, he raised his eyes to heaven and drew in his breath. Then he looked down very hard, and I saw the tip of his tongue appear between his teeth. As I glanced round and down, he made a beautiful forced landing. The great aeroplane alighted gingerly on a hard piece of desert, jolted over a stone or two, and came to rest easily a moment later in some looser sand.
“Well, that’s that,” said Geoffrey. “There will now be a short interval of twenty-four hours.”
I stood up in the cockpit and faced him.
“I gather,” said I, “that we owe you our lives.”
Geoffrey sighed heavily.
“These laymen!” he said. “Give me a cigarette.”
I felt for my case.
“You see?” said Miss Feste. “It hasn’t fazed him at all. If I were let down in mid-air, I should probably lose my mind – try to get out, or something. But the law of gravity never enters his head. He just swears once – I heard him – and then slides out of the sky as though he were parking a car.”
“Thank you, kind lady,” said Geoffrey, “but I must hand it back. The most poisonous ass—”
“You were absolutely the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen,” said Miss Feste.
“Nonsense,” said Geoffrey stoutly. “All I’ve done is to let you down badly. We can’t get back, they don’t keep cars out here, and you’re about two miles from Mena House.”
“What exactly happened?” said I. “That the pilot was forced to descend owing to engine trouble I know, but—”
“Let’s get out of the old bus,” said Geoffrey. “I’ll tell you when we’re down.”
The mechanic, who had remained aft, was already on the ground. He and I were just about to assist Miss Feste to descend through the trap-door when Geoffrey uttered a cry, leaned over the side of the Handley-Page, and pointed towards the Great Pyramid.
“Good lord!” he said. “The gilded staff!”
Looking in the direction he indicated I saw five horsemen trotting in our direction. Three were riding together, while two followed behind. The brass hats of two of the former were clearly visible.
“Quick,” cried Geoffrey. “They mustn’t find you here – either of you. For Heaven’s sake, push off! Anywhere. Try the other side of that sand-hill, and, if they see you, pretend you’ve nothing to do with me. Looking for scarabs or something.”
As he spoke, the approaching cavalcade disappeared from view. Obviously it was crossing a patch of ‘dead’ ground. Adèle half tumbled, half fell into my arms. I helped her out of her coat and flung off my own, and then, catching her by the hand, started to struggle towards the sand-hill. The going was hideous, for the sand was soft and loose. Mercifully the staff were still out of sight. They were probably considerably further away, when we first noticed them, than I had imagined – so deceptive a thing is distance in desert places.
As we were rounding the shoulder of the sand-hill, I glanced back to see the head and shoulders of a horseman come into view on the other side of the great aeroplane. A moment later we were out of their sight.
With her hand pressed to her side and panting for breath, Miss Feste sank down on the sand.
“Don’t look for a minute,” she gasped. “I want to take these wretched things off.” She indicated the ridiculous slacks with a shaking forefinger.
Obediently I turned away, mopping my face with the spare handkerchief which the climate had taught me to carry. The next moment:
“All right,” she said.
When I turned round, she was shaking the sand out of a small brown shoe. I folded up the trouserings, removed my helmet, and put the lot under my arm. The garters I slid into my pocket.
“I shall have to keep this on,” said Adèle, touching her cap. “I can’t walk about hatless. I must look awful.”
“As a matter of fact, you look lovely,” said I. “You do indeed.”
Framed in the helmet, her merry face was most attractive. Her brown eyes danced with excitement, her red lips were parted in a smile, and the colour had leapt into her cheeks as the result of her run. But whilst I was streaming with perspiration, she was comparatively cool. Tall and slim, her cream-coloured frock of some soft fabric suited her admirably. Already I had marked how the long coat, that fell to her knees, set off the grace of her steps with every movement.
She made a goodly picture, sitting there on the slope of the sand-hill, shoe in hand, her tiny unshod foot resting upon the other’s instep.
“I feel rather as if I was acting in a revue,” she said suddenly. “What comes next?”
“The comedian should really appear, complete with garden roller and scythe, and start reclaiming the desert or something. As it is, the first thing, so far as I’m concerned, is to get cool. The second is to find a means of transport for you as far as Mena. You’ll never get there in those shoes.”
Adèle regarded her feet.
“I expect I shall have to try,” she said.
“I wonder,” I said reflectively, “what Crusoe would have done if he’d come across your footprint in the sand instead of his own?”
“Lost his memory, I expect.”
I shook my head.
“He’d probably have gone straight back to his cave to brush his hair. But we should never have known, for his diary would have come to an abrupt stop.”
“And the world would have been the poorer.”
“He would probably have turned out some excellent lyrics. You know, Adèle, I simply love your hair.”
“That’s a load off my mind,” she flashed.
“Why did you cut it?” I asked.
“To save trouble.”
“I had mine taken off with the clippers three years ago for the same reason,” said I, “but nobody said they loved what was left.”
“You surprise me,” said Adèle. “I’m sure you must have looked priceless.”
“As a matter of fact, I looked about fifty-six. I suppose you keep your ears under the hair. D’you find they do well there? After all, strawberries grow like anything under straw, don’t they?”
“As a matter of fact, they’re most disappointing,” said Adèle. “They simply won’t grow.”
“Heaven forbid that they should. Yours are specimens of the
aurium deliciœ
type, famous for their bloom. If it’s anything like that on your cheeks, you ought to show them. To tell you the truth, I’m rather an authority on auriculture. Will you give me a private view one day?”
“I’ll give you anything if you’ll get me back to Cairo by half-past six,” said Adèle.
“Done,” said I. “May I have anything on account?”
For a moment she gazed into the distance, while the faintest of smiles hung hesitating in the midst of its mischievous dance about her lips. There was such a look on her face as makes a man catch his breath, and to this her raised eyebrows lent a puzzled yet inscrutable air that would have shaken the convictions of the most confirmed misogynist.
“Any more for the Sphinx?” I murmured.
Miss Feste flung me a dazzling smile and stretched out a slim hand to be helped to her feet.
“I never give anything on account,” she said, “but I’ll pay – in reason – when you deliver the goods.”
A cautious glance over the top of the sand-hill showed us that the forced landing of the Handley-Page was affording the Staff considerable interest. Geoffrey was standing stiffly by the side of one whom I took to be an officer of some distinction, for his companions had fallen a little behind. The General – he could be no less – was pointing to the great aeroplane, and seemed to be asking a whole series of questions. The elder of the other two officers was not unlike Berry. I fell to wondering…
“Nothing doing there,” I said, turning to Adèle. “We’d better try and work round their flank.”
She nodded, and a moment later we had started on our circuitous route.
We saw the camels simultaneously. Unattended they were kneeling side by side in the shade of a sand dune. Both of them were saddled. With one accord Adèle and I stood still. The animals suspended the hideous process of mastication, upon which they were engaged, and favoured us with a supercilious stare.
I drew a deep breath.
“Luck,” said I, “is with us. Behold our transport.”
“Oh, but—”
“I can’t help it. People shouldn’t leave camels lying about. Besides, we can send them back from Mena. Seriously,” I continued, “the moment we start backing them, you’ll find their driver will roll up. They’re always, as you would say, ‘floating around,’ just out of sight somewhere.”
Neither of us had ever ridden or endeavoured to control a camel before, and several hectic minutes elapsed before we were mounted. Happily the animals had little choice in the matter, for, upon investigation, I found that their near forelegs were so strapped that they could not rise until the straps were unfastened. Against everything that we did, however, they protested with a series of uncouth snarls, which, in the circumstances, were rather trying to the nerves. But, for all their clamouring, no one appeared upon the scene.
It had occurred to neither of us that a camel rises to its feet, as it were, by numbers, and although I had established my companion firmly enough upon the brute’s back, when it came, the double movement proved so exacting that she escaped a fall as by a miracle. I observed, moreover, that the embarrassment of its intending rider affords the camel great gratification, and that if by any means it can rise to its feet before he is ready, it is delighted to do so. It was therefore with some misgiving that I prepared to unstrap the foreleg of my own. However, it had to be done.