CHAPTER XXV.
CONCLUSION.
IT is unnecessary to detail the incidents in a rather monotonous journey, for one made with camels is necessarily slow. The desert wandering was not even broken in upon by an attack from Bedouin Arabs, though a sharp look-out was kept against them. Yet, though slow, neither the Hartley brothers nor Ali found the journey dull. Long interesting conversations beguiled the way, religion being the most frequent topic. Robin rejoiced that the Persian had now beside him one so far better able to instruct him in spiritual matters than he himself ever had been. Robin rather wondered how it could be that though Ali held the deepest converse with Harold, he should evidently retain the strongest affection for the youth whom he first had known.
Shelah, perched on her camel, enlivened the way by her bird-like songs. The child lived much more in the present than in either the future or the past. She looked out for ostriches, which she never saw, and her greatest disappointment was that of not finding one of their eggs on the sands.
One day Shelah, who was in advance, shouted so loudly and so gleefully, clapping her hands as she did so, that she attracted the attention of Robin.
"What is it Lammikin,—what are you looking at? Another mirage?" he inquired.
"The sea! The sea!" cried the child, with delight.
It was no mirage this time. Again the travellers were to behold the rolling waves breaking on the Arabian shore, and hear the sound of the waters which told of freedom! Impatiently the cavalcade pressed on; Shelah longed to jump down and run, as if her little bare feet could outstrip the slow stride of the camel.
Lammikin was still full of energy and spirit; an energy which in future life was to make her foremost in good works, as when a child she had been in mischief; a spirit which was to enable her to laugh at difficulties and overcome them. There is many a sweet kernel hidden in a rough unattractive shell, and the wild little Irish girl was to develop into the noble woman, an active friend of missions, especially of that one in which the Hartleys were engaged.
It was some little time before a passage could be secured in a vessel that would bear the party across the Red Sea. The days which intervened before embarkation were partly employed by Ali in selling off his horses and camels, which he parted with at a considerable loss.
"Only ten pieces of silver for that magnificent dromedary!" exclaimed Robin, as he saw an Arab, well satisfied with his bargain, lead away the creature on which his "nest" had been swung. "I fear, Amir, that you have suffered no small loss from your journey to Arabia."
"If I weigh my gains against my losses, the latter will show in the balance as the down on the feather, or the bubble on the stream," replied Ali, with a smile not cynical, but almost as bright as Robin's. "I have no longer to fly from self, for self is surrendered to Christ, and I have found in Him what is worth living for—and dying for, as you said to me once. The dark stagnant pool now reflects the blue sky, and from it, instead of the miasma of remorse, rises the exhalation of praise. The burden which made life a weariness is laid down; the shadow which darkened it has passed away. Blessed be the day when I set my foot in Arabia; thrice blessed that in which I first met with a Christian friend!"
"We too have cause to be thankful that we were led hither," observed Harold, who had joined his companions. "And yet how mysterious at first seemed that leading; of how bitter a cup we brothers had to drink! Had we known beforehand what we had to endure in Arabia, we might have looked forward with cowardly dread to what we now look back upon with humble thanksgiving."
"Yes, we have had strange adventures in this land which we are now quitting," exclaimed Robin. "I can scarcely believe that not a month has elapsed since the day when we landed in Arabia, to while away, as we thought, but one or two hours! Half a life-time's experience seems to have been crowded into a few weeks. Danger, suffering, hunger, thirst, loss of friends, of freedom, of all that could make life pleasant, and yet light from Heaven brightening, and love from Heaven sweetening all!"
"In Arabia we have kept our night of watching beside our armour," said Harold, "and now the dawn of morning bids us put it on."
"Yes," cried Robin, "for our life's work is still before us! May God enable us to quit ourselves in the Mission battle-field as faithful bearers of the stainless Cross,—as true and fearless Knights of St. John."
THE END.