stories by english authors in africa(旅非英国作家的故事)-第37节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
own trouble scarcely disconcerted her; she had feared only for the Greek
in the desert。 The thought of his agony; his hunger; goaded her nearly to
madness; but she was a little comforted when she remembered the eggs。
There was enough water in them to last him two or three days。 It was the
hour of sunset when she arrived; and she instantly set out desertward;
carrying a basket containing wine and food。 She had determined to live at
the hotel until the days of persecution were past。 The heavy sand made it
hard to proceed rapidly; but she struggled on bravely; and when far enough
from civilisation called aloud the signal…word agreed on。 But no one
answered。 All through the night she wandered; searching; till within an
hour of sunrise; then she gave way and sat weeping on the sand。 With
daylight she rose to her feet; determined to find her lover; but had scarcely
gone twenty yards before; with a low cry of grief; she knelt beside the
128
… Page 129…
STORIES
body of a dead man。 In the half…eaten; decayed features she recognised
Gregorio and knew she had come too late。 Undeterred by the hideous
spectacle; she kissed him tenderly and lay beside him。
The sun mounted slowly in the heavens。
The living figure lay as lifeless as the dead。 But after a while the
woman rose and dug with her hands a hollow in the sand。 She heeded not
the heat; nor the flight of time; and by evening her work was done。
Raising the body in her arms; she carried it to the hollow and laid it
gently down; then tearfully shovelled back the sand till it was hidden。 So
Gregorio found a tomb。 Nor did it remain unconsecrated; for beside it
Madam Marx knelt and spoke with faltering lips the remnants of the
prayers she had learned when a child。 As she prayed she watched vaguely
a steamer disappear behind the horizon。
The khedival mail…boat /Ramses/ sped swiftly over the unruffled
surface of the sea。 At the stern a tall fair Englishman sat looking on the
level shores of Egypt and the minarets of Alexandria。 With a sad smile he
turned to the child who called to him by his name。 They were a strange
pair; for the boy was dark; and foreign…looking; and there was something
of cunning in his restless black eyes。 The man's large hand rested softly on
the raven curls of the youngster as he muttered to himself:
〃For her sake I will watch over you; and you shall grow up to be a true
man。〃
So Xantippe's life had not been lived in vain; for she had loved and
been loved; and her memory was sweet to her lover。 Moreover; Gregorio's
dreams of wealth for his son were to find fulfilment; and the sand of the
desert; maybe; lies lightly on him。
129