Georgia’s eyes were full of tears as she took her leave. She had bestowed all her pity hitherto on Nur Jahan, but now she felt more deeply for her mother, whose love, passionate and unrequited, had been to her only a source of pain. The wrong which Jahan Beg had done had been visited not only upon himself, but upon his innocent wife and daughter, and it could not be redressed.
“Sweetheart,” said Dick, anxiously, as he helped Georgia out of the litter on their return, and assisted her to remove the enshroudingburka, “you look awfully fagged. Come and have a turn round the courtyard with me.”
“Do you know, Dick,” she said, looking round at him, “that I am being advised continually not to marry you?”
“No?” said Dick, highly diverted. “What a joke! Who is the faithful warner—young Anstruther?”
“Dick! As if I would ever let him say a word against you to me! No, it is all my Ethiopian ladies. They are firmly of opinion that marriage is a failure.”
“I hope you oppose them with all the ardour of a new convert, then?”
“I can’t convince them, unfortunately. Their arguments are unanswerable, they are their own husbands.”
“And you have no favourable counter-experience to draw upon?”
“No. I have to defend you on trust, Dick.”
“Poor little girl! and that’s very hard upon you, isn’t it, when you know so little of me, and what you do know is so bad?”
Two or three days after Georgia’s visit to the Lady Nafiza, messengers from Rustam Khan reached the city, announcing that his expedition had been entirely successful, and that he was bringing back with him the servants and baggage-animals of which the travellers had been deprived. This was good news, and once more preparations for departure occupied all those in the Mission. But before the triumphant general had returned to the capital, and while Stratford and Dick were still superintending the packing of cases which it was necessary to pile up in the front courtyard until the means of transport arrived, Mr Hicks looked in to bid farewell to his English friends. His mules and camels had not been impounded, and he was therefore able to start on the morrow. Stratford was somewhat surprised that he did not defer his journey for a few days, and ask permission to attach himself to the Mission caravan; but Mr Hicks explained that he preferred to travel in comfort, and not to find all the inns occupied, and the markets cleared at every stopping-place along the route, by the train of the British Envoy. He did not add that he was calculating on bringing to Khemistan the first news respecting the Mission that had arrived since the interruption of communications, or that he anticipated driving an excellent bargain for himself and the paper he represented by the sale of the unique information he possessed; but he had a proposal to make to Stratford which rather surprised him.
“I guess you calculate on being able to make tracks in safety now, Mr Stratford, but I don’t know that I am quite with you there. I allow that you have had almighty luck, and that you have plucked the flower success from the nettle danger in a style I admire. A month ago I would have bet my bottom dollar that you would never leave Kubbet-ul-Haj without conducting another high-class funeral in that burial-lot of yours, and reading the Episcopal service over the old man, any way. But there’s real grit in you, sir, and I don’t mind making you a present of that acknowledgment before the general public throughout the universe gets hold of it in the columns of the ‘Crier.’ Still, I don’t consider that the prospect before you is exactly a shining one. It would have taxed Moses himself to fix your return trip satisfactorily. Once you get outside these walls, you will have to defend the whole outfit by the light of nature, for you have never been on the Plains, any of you.”
“Still,” said Stratford, with some coldness, “Major North is an experienced soldier, and Mr Anstruther——”
“Is an amusing young cuss. I beg your pardon for taking the words out of your mouth, Mr Stratford, but I can reckon up those two boys as well as you can. Major North is a pragmatic piece of wood, that would stand to be cut to pieces rather than budge an inch——”
“Excuse me if I interrupt you in my turn, Mr Hicks. Major North is my friend, and if I hear any more disparaging remarks about him I shall feel bound to turn you over to Miss Keeling. She would know how to resent them properly.”
“You are right, sir, she would. And that brings me to my point. Thinking over your position here, and the probability of the King’s turning nasty (for I guess there are few crowned heads that would care to send away in peace a man that had driven them to change their minds by the gentle compulsion of a cocked six-shooter), I concluded this morning to offer to escort the ladies to the frontier. I travel lightly, and stand to cover the ground much faster than your big camel-train, and there is no animosity against me. If they are once safe in Khemistan you can come on behind with the old man and the baggage, and feel easy in your minds. Now don’t get riled and say things you’ll be sorry for afterwards, Mr Stratford. I am not impugning your prudence, nor yet your powers of fighting. We have to face facts. It gives any one who is inclined to be troublesome a colossal pull over you that you have the ladies to look after, and if they were put in safety it would diminish at once your anxiety and your liability to attack.”
“What do you think North will say to this?”
“Who bosses this show, Mr Stratford? If Major North displays an unbecoming spirit, put him under arrest. You are too sweetly reasonable with the boys ever to do much good with ’em.”
“But you don’t imagine that the ladies would go?”
“That is for them to decide. Give them their choice, any way. I guess if they won’t go, they won’t; but let ’em have the chance.”
Stimulated by the equitable spirit displayed by Mr Hicks, Stratford broached the subject to the ladies during tiffin, and was not surprised to find that they received it with most ungrateful scorn. Lady Haigh simply expressed her determination to remain with Sir Dugald at all hazards (a resolution which Mr Hicks, in a talk with Stratford afterwards, unfeelingly likened to that of Mrs Micawber), and Georgia refused with much emphasis to desert her patient. To the no small amusement of Mr Hicks, he discovered, from a piece of by-play which attracted his notice, that Dick, once fully assured that she would not go, was disposed to suggest, with an air of superior wisdom, that it might be wiser if she did.
“You know, Georgie,” pathetically, “that I should feel ever so much happier if I knew you were in safety.”
“My dear Dick,” solemnly, “nothing would induce me to go, under any circumstances.”
“Not if I told you that it was my wish?” tenderly.
“If you are wise, Dick, you won’t attempt to bring into play in this case any authority you may imagine that you possess,” warningly; “nor in any other case in creation, either,” interjected Mr Hicks,sotto voce.
Thus it happened that Mr Hicks started on his journey alone, and that the ladies formed part of the procession which filed out of the Khemistan gate of Kubbet-ul-Haj about a week later. A comfortable litter, carried by two mules, had been procured for Sir Dugald, but only the household servants were aware of the nature of his illness, or knew how completely it incapacitated him for ordinary life, and Ismail Bakhsh and his subordinates formed a bodyguard round the litter. It was their business to keep any idea of the truth from reaching the camel-men and mule-drivers, who were regarded with a certain amount of suspicion on account of their long separation from the rest of the party. One or two of the servants who had originally accompanied the Mission from Khemistan had died during the interval; several, according to the testimony of their jailers, had succeeded in making their escape, and the places of these had been filled up by Ethiopians, so that it was just as well to allow them to imagine that although the terrible Envoy was so ill as to be unable to mount his horse, and must be carried in a litter like a woman, yet he still directed the course of affairs, and gave orders which Stratford merely carried into effect. Jahan Beg accompanied the travellers for the first few miles of their journey, and parted from them on the crest of a rise from which the first view of Kubbet-ul-Haj could be obtained by those approaching the city.
“I wish I could have gone with you as far as the frontier,” he had said to Stratford, “but I daren’t leave the city just now. I believe I am on the brink of discovering a very neat plot between the Scythian agent, who ought to be across the border by this time, but is supposed to be detained by illness at a village only a day’s journey off, and Fath-ud-Din’s adherents. I think I have tracked nearly all the participators, and when I am ready I shall give them a surprise. The plan is, of course, to get rid of me and destroy the English treaty. By the way, I hope you are careful of your copy. Accidents will happen, and if that should be stolen or destroyed, it would be a big score for them. If you should chance to be detained anywhere by sickness or a difficulty in obtaining provisions, you will do well to send on some one you can trust, with ten or twelve well-armed men, to make a dash for Rahmat-Ullah, and put the treaty in safety. Our copy, of course, is safe as long as I am, but no one can tell how long that will be. All Fath-ud-Din’s fortresses are refusing to yield except to force, which is another thing that makes me think they anticipate a speedy return to the old state of affairs, and I shall be obliged to send Rustam Khan with the army to reduce each one in turn. You will have to pass not far from two of them; but if your guides are trustworthy and know their business, they ought to take you by without even coming in sight of them. One of the forts ought to be mine, which makes its resistance all the more irritating. Fath-ud-Din did me out of it with the help of some devilry practised by the old witch whom he keeps to get rid of his friends for him. Perhaps I shall get it back now. Well, good-bye; keep an eye on your guides and a tight hand over your men and the escort, and when you get the welcome you deserve at home, don’t quite forget the man who disappeared.”
He shook hands with the rest of the party, and turned away abruptly to begin his ride back to the city. As Georgia looked after him, something of pity rose in her heart. After all, the only tragedies in Kubbet-ul-Haj were not those of the older women with their woful past, and Nur Jahan with her comfortless future. There was tragedy also in the story of the man who for life’s sake had given up all that ennobled life, and who had gained so much that he found was valueless, and lost so much that he now knew was invaluable. Alone in the great cruel faithless city, his only memorial of the visit of his friends the rough tablet which marked Dr Headlam’s grave, his only trustworthy companion the wife whose love he had slighted, his daily occupation the search after any means by which he might succeed in maintaining his position on the slippery height he had reached—there was little reason to envy Jahan Beg.
The march which now began was by no means devoid of incident, but during the first few days, while the caravan was still in touch with the city, everything went well. It was when the dried-up pasture-lands and the scattered villages had all been left behind, and only the sands of the desert were to be seen on every side, that the troubles of the Mission began again. Their commencement was marked by a small but alarming mutiny among the escort of irregular cavalry, who accused their captain of appropriating to his own use half of thebakhshishpromised them as a reward for their services, which had been handed over to him at the beginning of the journey for distribution among his troopers. It had been arranged that each man should receive the remainder of his share when Fort Rahmat-Ullah was reached, but they demanded that it should be paid down immediately, if they were to escort the Mission any further. To yield to this attempt at extortion was manifestly impossible, since there was nothing to prevent the men’s demanding extra gifts until the travellers were bereft even of the necessaries of life; but nothing less than a complete surrender to their wishes would satisfy the mutineers. The English met informally in Stratford’s tent to consider the situation (it was early in the morning, and the preparations for the day’s march were interrupted by this untoward event), and admitted to their councils the Ethiopian captain, who had brought the news that the men refused to move until their demands were conceded.
“If we don’t stop this at once,” said Dick, “things will get serious. Stratford, I should be glad if you would leave the matter to me to deal with.”
“By all means,” said Stratford; “but what do you intend to do?”
“Make an example of the chaps that are stirring them up,” said Dick, grimly, taking out his revolver and making sure that all the chambers were loaded.
“But we shall have to get hold of them first,” objected Stratford.
“Exactly. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Stuff! You are not going down among them alone, I can tell you.”
“We can’t waste more than one man over this business. Look there,” and he threw a significant glance at the trembling Ethiopian captain, “you can see what he thinks of it. I’ll take Ismail Bakhsh with me. Lend him your revolver.”
“Oh, Dick, what are you going to do?” asked Georgia in astonishment, as she met Dick outside the tent, revolver in hand, with Ismail Bakhsh stalking after him with inimitable dignity and determination, his right hand thrust into his girdle.
“Never mind. Go back into your tent, and don’t show yourselves, any of you,” returned Dick, sharply. She obeyed without hesitation; but since he had not forbidden her to watch him, she took advantage of a hole in the canvas to gain a view of all that passed. From the sandhill on which the tents were pitched she could see the soldiers in their camp below, gathered round an orator who was haranguing them, while no preparations for starting were visible. She saw Dick march calmly into the throng, elbowing his way through the men with little ceremony, and dislodge the orator forcibly from the unsteady rostrum of biscuit-boxes which he occupied. When she next caught a glimpse of him he was on the outskirts of the crowd again, holding his prisoner by the rags which represented his collar, and propelling him vigorously in the direction of the tents, assisting his progress now and again by a hearty kick. The rest of the troop appeared to have been stupefied by the suddenness of the onslaught, but just as Dick was free of the throng, Georgia saw another man leap up upon a box and call out to his fellows to rescue their leader. The spell was broken, and there was an ugly rush, while weapons were hastily caught up.
“Arrest that man, Ismail Bakhsh,” said Dick, without looking round; “and if he won’t come quietly, shoot him.”
Ismail Bakhsh obeyed in perfect silence, and led his captive up the hill after Dick, the troopers once more making way for him without attempting to use their weapons. Arrived at the summit, Dick paused and looked back.
“Dismiss!” he said, in a sharp, harsh voice such as Georgia had never heard from him before, and the mutineers, understanding the order by a species of intuition, dispersed quietly, while Dick and Ismail Bakhsh passed on to the tent with their prisoners.
“Georgie, what is the matter?” cried Lady Haigh, as Georgia dropped the canvas flap with a gasping cry, and staggered back against the tent pole.
“Only that I have just watched Dick take his life in his hand,” she explained, breathlessly. “For the last ten minutes I have been thinking that I should never see him alive again.”
In Stratford’s tent a hasty and extremely informal court-martial was held immediately for the purpose of trying the two prisoners, and here the management of affairs passed out of Dick’s hands. He was in favour of shooting both men on the spot, as an encouragement to the rest, but Stratford shrank from the idea; and the piteous entreaties of the Ethiopian captain, who pointed out that if such a sentence were carried into execution his life would not be worth a moment’s purchase when he started to return home alone with his troops, were allowed to prevail upon the side of mercy. It was difficult to devise a suitable punishment under the circumstances; but finally the two men were deprived of the semblance of uniform they possessed, and driven out into the desert on foot by the servants, provided with a meagre allowance of bread and water. They would not starve, unless they wilfully remained where they were instead of retracing their steps along the road they had come, but it was probable that they would have an extremely unpleasant experience before they found their way back to the habitations of men.
The lesson proved to be a sufficient one, and the troopers, with sullen faces, returned to their duty, imbued with an added respect for Dick and an increased hatred and contempt for their own commander. They made no parade of either of these sentiments during the day’s march, but the net result of them was visible the next morning, when no soldiers could be found. They had ridden away during the night from their bivouac on the outskirts of the camp, leaving their watch-fires alight to deceive any observers, and in his tent the body of their captain, pierced with many wounds.
“A wound for each man,” said Ismail Bakhsh, contemplating the dead man with mingled curiosity and disgust; “and see here, the rebels have left a gift for my lord.”
“See here, the rebels have left a gift for my lord.”
“See here, the rebels have left a gift for my lord.”
He lifted from the spot where it had been laid at the side of the corpse a long curved dagger, the handle and sheath of which were of silver, curiously chased and encrusted with turquoises. A scrap of paper partially burnt, which had apparently been picked up after being used as a pipe-light and thrown aside, was wrapped round the lower part of the blade, and a few words in Arabic characters were traced upon it.
“‘To the General Dīk,’” read Ismail Bakhsh with interest. “It is the dagger which my lord admired when he saw it worn the other day by one of those forsworn ones. At least they know a man when they see one, evil though they are.”
“You can bring the thing to my tent,” said Dick. “I will keep it as a curiosity. And now, Ismail Bakhsh, we must see this poor wretch decently buried before we go on. You and your men had better perform the proper ceremonies, and we will fire a volley over his grave by way of giving him a military funeral.”
Leaving the scene of the tragedy, he communicated to Stratford his impressions of the state of affairs, and they agreed to minimise as far as possible the importance of what had occurred when in the presence of the ladies. Accordingly, they talked cheerfully of the advantage of being rid of the escort of a mutinous and discontented body of troops, and said nothing of the unwelcome thought which had suggested itself to Dick, that the mutineers might have taken it into their heads to ride on in advance, so as to lie in wait for the caravan at some awkward corner. The body of the unfortunate Ethiopian captain was buried with military honours, and the cavalcade, now much diminished in numbers, took the road again.
The next difficulty that confronted the leaders of the party was caused by the action of the guides, who came to Stratford that evening and begged that he would allow the usual order of the march to be changed for the next few days, so that the journey should be carried on at night, and the necessary halt take place during the hours of daylight. The Mission, they said, was now approaching the region dominated by Fath-ud-Din’s two fortresses, Bir-ul-Malik and Bir-ul-Malikat, and it was all-important that its passage should not be perceived by the watchmen upon the walls. This appeared at first sight very reasonable, and Stratford and Dick, having heard what the men had to say, and dismissed them, found themselves somewhat at a loss as to their answer.
“If we were sure that we can trust these fellows,” said Stratford, “it would be all right, but Jahan Beg warned us against them particularly. Then, again, why didn’t they state when we engaged them that it might be advisable to make night marches for part of the way, at any rate while we are in the sphere of influence of the garrisons of these forts?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Dick, “no doubt they would say that they didn’t bargain for the soldiers mutinying and deserting us, and thought that under their escort we should be safe enough, even in the daytime. But I don’t like this nocturnal idea for two reasons. We should be quite unable to identify the features of the country at night, and they might lead us astray without our discovering it; and moreover, if the mutineers or Fath-ud-Din’s friends should happen to mean mischief, a night-attack on the column as it marched would simply smash us up. We should have more chance in daylight, or even in case of a night-attack on the camp, for the baggage gives us a certain amount of cover when it is properly piled and the beasts picketed.”
“But on the other hand, if the guides are trustworthy, we are doing a very mad thing in rejecting their advice.”
“Quite so; we have a choice of evils. But if you remember, Jahan Beg was of opinion that the fellows ought to be able to take us past the forts without our even coming in sight of them, so that this exaggerated carefulness seems unnecessary.”
“Then you are for going on as we are? It’s an awful risk, North, if things should go wrong.”
“I have more at stake than you have, old man, and you may depend upon it that nothing but the firmest conviction that this course is the safest would make me advocate it. Of course, you boss this outfit, as Hicks would say——”
“Oh, nonsense!” said Stratford. “I am not going to back half an opinion of my own against all your experience. We will stick to our morning and afternoon marches, North.”
The decision thus reached was duly communicated to the guides, and received by them with sulky acquiescence. The next day’s march was uneventful; but the aspect of the country was gradually changing, and becoming more rocky, although it remained as barren and parched-looking as before. The halt that night was made at the foot of a steep cliff, which afforded protection in the rear, while a breastwork of baggage and saddles, arranged in the form of a semicircle, gave some guarantee against a successful attack in front. Again the hours of darkness passed without alarm, but the equanimity of the party was disturbed at breakfast by a domestic misfortune. Rahah, in floods of tears, came to inform her mistress that the white cat was lost. On the journey Colleen Bawn was always Rahah’s special care, travelling on the same mule, and occupying the pannier which contained Miss Keeling’s toilet requisites, and which was balanced by the maid in the opposite one. On this particular morning Rahah had sought her charge in vain. She knew that the kitten was generally to be found by Georgia’s side at breakfast-time, laying a white paw on its mistress’s wrist with dignified insistence when it had reason to imagine itself forgotten; but this morning the tit-bits remained unclaimed on Georgia’s plate. Rahah had searched the whole camp, she said, and Ismail Bakhsh’s son Ibrahim had helped her, but they could not find the white cat; and would the doctor lady request the gentlemen to stop the loading, and set all the men free to look for it? They had sworn to find the doctor lady’s pet if it took them all day to do it, and they knew that the little gentleman (this was the undignified name by which Fitz was invariably known among the servants) would help them.
“I am afraid we can hardly sacrifice a day for such a purpose,” said Stratford, wavering between politeness and a sense of his responsibility as leader, as Georgia looked across at him; but Dick showed no such hesitation.
“Miss Keeling would never think of your doing such a thing, Stratford. To hang about here, of all places, while Anstruther and the servants looked for a lost cat, would be a piece of criminal folly—one might almost say wickedness. We can’t risk the lives of the whole party for the sake of a cat. Here, ayah—take another good look about while we finish breakfast, and if you haven’t found the beast when we’re ready to start, we must leave it behind.”
Georgia’s face flushed as she stirred her coffee deliberately. She had no wish to risk the lives of the whole party by insisting on delay, but it was not Dick’s place to say so for her. It looked as though he had no confidence in her, that he should not allow her even the semblance of a choice, and confidence was what she demanded above all things. It flashed upon him presently, noticing her silence, that he had hurt her, and he bent towards her to say in a low voice—
“I say, Georgie, you don’t mind much, do you? Are you awfully keen on the little beast? I’ll buy you dozens when we get to Khemistan. But you wouldn’t have us waste time now?”
“You have quite put it out of my power even if I wished it,” returned Georgia, coldly; and Fitz, at the other side of the makeshift table, was filled with a sudden and violent hatred against Dick. It was not the first time that this feeling had entered his mind—in fact, it merely slumbered intermittently, and awoke whenever Dick and Georgia had a difference of opinion, no matter which side was in the right. Fitz had no desire to quarrel with Georgia’s choice, for his loyalty was too unquestioning to admit a doubt of her wisdom in the matter; but that the highly-favoured man who was honoured by the love of this peerless lady should be so blind to the grace bestowed upon him as actually to contradict and even to bully her (this was Fitz’s rendering of what he saw) was only an awful illustration of the depths to which human depravity could descend. At such times as this all the boy’s faculties were on the alert to render some service, however great or small, to his lady, which might assure her that even though Major North possessed no due sense of the overwhelming privileges she had granted to him, there were others who still counted it an honour to be able to anticipate her least wish. It is slightly pathetic to be obliged to record that Georgia accepted his good offices without at all appreciating the sentiment from which they sprang—indeed, so ungrateful is human nature that, had she discovered it, she would probably have rejected them with contumely, and poured out the vials of her wrath on the head of the luckless youth who dared to criticise Dick—and that she valued the slightest attention from her lover far above all that Fitz could offer, in spite of the much greater disinterestedness of the latter’s endeavours. But this only proved to Fitz more clearly still her excellence, as exemplified by her absolute loyalty to the man of her choice, and stimulated him to continue to render his unselfish services.
The efforts of Rahah and her fellow-servants to find Colleen Bawn proving ineffectual, the march began at the usual time, although not until after Dick had personally conducted Georgia to the top of the cliff, that she might see whether the kitten had found its way thither; but the rough scramble to the summit and the difficult descent were alike undertaken in vain. Doubtless, said Rahah, with an indignant glance at Dick, the white cat had curled itself up in some cleft of the rocks and gone to sleep, and it would be easy for the men to discover it if they searched systematically, although a cursory look round was useless. But no delay was allowed, and Rahah settled herself mournfully in her pannier, and snubbed Ibrahim whenever he came near her—a course of treatment which, while it failed to irritate him, proved most serviceable in working off her own bad temper.
Important though this storm in a tea-cup was to the two or three persons immediately interested, the leaders of the party had far weightier matters to consider. The march had lasted some two hours and a half when Stratford, who had been riding at the head of the caravan with one of the guides, turned back and joined Dick, whose post, when he was not on duty, was naturally at Georgia’s side.
“What do you think of the look of the weather, North?”
“I don’t like it. See what a dirty sort of colour the sky has turned. I should say we were in for a storm.”
“That’s just what these fellows say. A sand-storm is what they prophesy; but that’s all rot, I suppose.”
“Oh no. We can get up very tolerable imitations of the real thing in these desert tracts, but they are not particularly frequent. However, the guides ought to know; and if they say there’s one coming, we had better look out for some sort of shelter.”
“The guides make out that there’s a ridge of rocks somewhere about which would protect us to a certain extent, but they don’t seem very sure of their ground. The ridge might be any distance between ten minutes’ walk and half a day’s journey ahead of us, from all I can discover.”
“We’ll send young Anstruther and two men on in front to reconnoitre a little, while you and I and Kustendjian see what we can get out of these fellows. Why, where is the child gone? Hi, Ismail Bakhsh, where is thechota sahib?”
With a face as ingenuous as that of the youthful Washington when he resisted the historic temptation to mendacity, Ismail Bakhsh replied that he had last seen the little gentleman at the rear of the column, not thinking it necessary to add that it was at a considerable distance to the rear, and that Fitz was riding in the opposite direction to that in which the column was proceeding.
“Well, we can’t wait to fetch him up from the rear,” said Dick, looking back over the long caravan. “I will ride on and do the scouting, Stratford, while you and Kustendjian cross-examine the guides. It would be just as well to pass the word along for the men to step out a little faster, don’t you think?”
Stratford agreed, and the pace of the caravan was a good deal accelerated in a spasmodic kind of way. Dick and his followers returned from their reconnaissance in a little over half an hour, by which time the gloomy hue of the sky was much intensified, and the air had become quite hazy. Stinging particles of grit were driven against the face as the riders moved along, and sudden gusts of wind, coming short and sharp, now from one point of the compass and now from another, were chasing the sand hither and thither in little eddying whirls.
“We have found the place!” cried Dick, as he rode up. “Pass the word to hurry, Ismail Bakhsh; it’s not much further on. And bring up one of the camels with the tents. We must get up some sort of shelter for the ladies.”
The ordinary dignified pace of the caravan was now exchanged for a helter-skelter mode of progression, which was extremely trying to the mind of Dick, when he saw the confusion which was engendered in the ranks by the haste he had recommended. It was more like a disorderly race than peaceful travelling, and the different bodies of servants were inextricably mixed up.
“What a gorgeous chance for the enemy if they saw us now!” he said to himself. “The only thing is that they are probably just as much taken up with the storm as we are.”
No long time elapsed before the friendly ridge of rocks was reached, and the tent erected under its shelter. Sir Dugald was carried inside, Lady Haigh and Georgia and their maids followed, and the canvas was fastened down tightly. Stratford and Dick, remaining outside, did their best to create some sort of order out of the chaos which surged around them as the servants and baggage-animals came pouring up. There was no time to unload the mules and camels, but they were brought as close under the rocks as possible, and the men found shelter among them. When the last straggler had come in, Stratford turned suddenly to Dick.
“Where can Anstruther be?” he said.
Before Dick could hazard an opinion, the storm burst upon them with a roar, and they were glad to follow the example of the guides, and hide their faces from the blast. The wind shrieked among the rocks, and swept down with tremendous force upon the closely-packed mass of men and animals, carrying with it quantities of sand and minute pebbles, which had a blinding effect upon the eyes. Inside the tent the women waited in hot stifling darkness, with the fine sand making its way in at every seam and covering everything. During what seemed hours they heard no sounds but the whistling and howling of the wind without. Then there arose a chorus of shouts and yells and curses, mingled with the grunting of camels and the shrill squeals of protesting mules. Some kind of fierce struggle seemed to be going on outside; but it was impossible to discover its nature, for the fastenings of the tent refused to yield to the efforts of the prisoners, and no one answered their calls or appeals for information. At last, just as Georgia drew out a pair of surgical scissors and began deliberately to cut a slit in the tough double canvas, the flap of the tent was thrown back, and Stratford entered, bare-headed and breathless.
“The beasts have stampeded,” he explained, “and the guides and servants are all gone after them. We have been rushing hither and thither, catching and securing any animal we could get hold of, and shouting to the men to keep quiet and not to give chase. But we might as well have spoken to the rocks. Ismail Bakhsh and his men and the house-servants were the only ones that listened; the rest all rushed away after their own animals. Of course that only drove them further off, and they must be scattered over the whole country round by this time. I fear we must have lost most of the baggage, for what we have saved is a very small amount, and strikingly miscellaneous in character. But no doubt the men will manage to find their way back here by degrees, and then——”
A sudden exclamation from Dick interrupted him, and he stepped outside. Lady Haigh and Georgia followed, only to be pushed back into the tent, and desired angrily to cover their faces with theirburkas. Facing the little knot of startled men and frightened baggage-animals which now represented the great Mission caravan were a troop of horsemen, who had taken up, under cover of the storm and the stampede, such a position as to preclude any attempt to escape on the part of those they were hemming in.
“Get the men together while I try a parley with these fellows,” said Stratford to Dick, when he took in the facts of the situation. “They are not our friends the mutineers, at any rate.”
“My lord’stopi,” said Ismail Bakhsh, stepping up with a salute, and offering Stratford his helmet, which he had found caught in a crevice of the rocks. Stratford put it on, and, carrying his riding-whip carelessly in his hand, advanced to meet the strangers, who had remained motionless on their horses since Dick had first caught sight of them.
“Peace be upon you!” he said as he approached them.
“And upon thee be peace!” responded an old man, who appeared to be the leader of the party. “My lord is one of the envoys of the Queen of England to our lord the King?”
“I am temporarily in command of the Mission, owing to the illness of the Envoy,” answered Stratford. “To whom have I the honour of speaking?”
“My lord’s servant is Abd-ur-Rahim, Governor of the fortress of Bir-ul-Malik for our lord the King.”
“Not for the late Grand Vizier, Fath-ud-Din, then?”
“How should that be so? My lord knows that another now holds the King’s signet. Surely his servant only retains his office until he be confirmed or superseded in it by orders from Kubbet-ul-Haj. But the only orders he has received as yet have concerned the Mission of the English Queen, and they have commanded him to do all in his power to help it, and to facilitate its return journey.”
“Then the orders have arrived in the nick of time,” said Stratford. “A little assistance will be of great use to us in our present circumstances. Our baggage-animals were alarmed by the storm, and are scattered about, and if your soldiers would help us to get them together again it would be a great boon. But will you not dismount and eat and drink with us, Abd-ur-Rahim? We have but little to offer, yet it is our delight to share it with a friend.”
“Nay, but my lord and all his company shall eat and drink with me,” was the hospitable reply. “In Bir-ul-Malik there is room for the whole number, and they shall rest in the fortress this night in peace, and refresh their souls before starting again on their journey. I will send out my young men to seek for the camels of my lord, and in the morning his caravan shall be as great as when he left Kubbet-ul-Haj a week ago.”
“Yet let Abd-ur-Rahim first honour our poor tents by condescending to eat bread and drink water with us,” urged Stratford.
Again the old man shook his head. “Not so, my lord. Surely when my watchmen cried from the towers that there was a great company out on the plain, fleeing towards the rocks for shelter from the storm, and I knew that they must be the servants of the English Queen, I vowed a vow that I would neither eat bread nor drink water until I had brought the Englishmen into my house, that they might rest themselves and be refreshed at my table, and afterwards depart in peace.”
“And how did you know that we were the servants of the English Queen?” asked Stratford, endeavouring, with considerable success, to exhibit in his tones no trace of suspicion, but merely a natural desire for information.
“The orders I received had warned me of the approach of my lord and his servants,” replied Abd-ur-Rahim, guilelessly, “and the watchmen told me that among those whom they saw were men with strange head-gear, such as our people who have journeyed into Khemistan have seen the English lords wear. But will not my lord make haste to call his young men together, and bid them follow him into the fortress? The feast is being prepared, and the best rooms are ready for my lord and his servants and his household, and only the guests are wanting.”
“I must take counsel with my friends before I accept your kind invitation,” said Stratford. “We are in haste, and it may be that we cannot venture to lose even the remaining half of this day’s march.”
“Nay, my lord,” exclaimed Abd-ur-Rahim, in the eagerness of his hospitality, “far be it from me to compel any to become my guests by force—and yet, sooner than allow my lord to depart without honouring by his presence my humble roof, I would command my young men to bring him and his servants to my dwelling whether they would or no.”
“One might indeed say that yours was a pressing invitation, Abd-ur-Rahim,” said Stratford, smiling good-humouredly as he turned to go back to the rest; but there was no smile upon his face when he reached them.
Dick stepped forward to meet him, and they walked a few paces aside, out of earshot of the little band of servants whom Dick had posted in such a way as to protect the tent and the remaining baggage-animals.
“Well?” asked Dick, eagerly.
“Oh, he’s a deep one! He means to get us up to the fort by hook or by crook, and the only question is, shall we go peaceably or wait for him to take us?”
“He has been looking out for us, then?”
“Undoubtedly. He says he was warned of our approach by orders from Kubbet-ul-Haj. Now you know that the King and Jahan Beg never anticipated that we should halt anywhere near Bir-ul-Malik, so that the orders can’t have come from them. They must have been sent by Fath-ud-Din or some of his people, and very likely Abd-ur-Rahim has had additional information since then from the mutineers. We can’t hope that he is merely hospitable and friendly. If we go into the fort, we go with our eyes open.”
“But hasn’t he showed his hand at all?”
“Not a bit. He is all blarney and butter, only anxious for the honour of our presence and so on, but he means business.”
“But we can be all blarney and butter too, and merely regret our inability to pay him a visit, and pass on. If he doesn’t try force, it’s quite evident that he hasn’t any to try. He is doing his best to allure us to put ourselves into his power, trusting in the simplicity evidenced by your childlike and bland demeanour, and there is no doubt that if he once got us inside the fort we should be in something like a hole. But as it is, we can merely bow and say good-day.”
“I’m afraid not, North. It is Abd-ur-Rahim who has the cards up his sleeve this time. When I stood out there on the plain talking to him, I could see further than you can from here. He is very sweet and smiling, and he doesn’t want to make a show of force if he can do things pleasantly; but behind these rocks here he has men enough stationed to account for us all five or six times over.”
“Then we are trapped!” said Dick, grimly, drawing his sword half out of its scabbard and feeling the edge. “Well, better here under the open sky than between stone walls. We can give a good account of two or three times our number, posted as we are here, and they won’t get much change out of us.”
“North, you bloodthirsty villain! Think of the poor women and the Chief, and don’t talk of running amuck in that cast-iron way.”
“Don’t I think of the women? Do you imagine I am made of stone, Stratford? My first shot is for Georgia, and after that—well, I suppose I shall run amuck.”
“Draw in a little, old man. That way madness lies. Keep cool, and listen to me for a moment. Since I have no one specially to look after, it may be that I am able to see things more calmly than you are. At any rate, it strikes me, leaving out of sight that ferocious idea of yours, that if we were cut to pieces we could do no possible good to any one—whereas if we accept Abd-ur-Rahim’s overtures in a friendly spirit, and go with him, keeping possession of our weapons and holding together, we might spot a chance of escape, and at any rate we should be no worse off than we are now. If I were you, I should be thankful to keep clear of murder a little longer.”
“Don’t talk to me!” said Dick, savagely. “You have not my reasons for anxiety.”
“Nor your reasons for prudence, either. Look at things quietly, North. I am certain this old fellow is not quite on the square, or he wouldn’t refuse to eat and drink with us; but I don’t think his intentions are necessarily murderous. If they were, he could easily have wiped us all out here and now, without taking the trouble to get us up to the fort. My own impression is that he means to hold us as hostages for Fath-ud-Din’s safety. If that is the case, we shall certainly be in no danger. It will only mean a slight delay, for when our Government find out from Hicks that we ought to reach the frontier soon after him they will send to inquire after us if we don’t turn up.”
“But supposing Abd-ur-Rahim’s intentions are murderous after all?”
“Then we shall end up with a big fight, I presume, and the result will be much the same in the fort as it would be here. Come, North, don’t let us give up hope too soon. If the worst comes to the worst, the ladies have revolvers and can use them—and I don’t know two women anywhere who would be more certain to use them if it was necessary. Just you go to the tent and tell them quietly the state of affairs, while I inform Abd-ur-Rahim that we accept his offer of a night’s lodging. Then you and Kustendjian had better come and be presented. We will do everything in style, and with the most lively imitation possible of perfect confidence. The great thing is to avoid giving them the slightest excuse or opportunity of depriving us of our arms.”
Doggedly and unwillingly Dick took his way to the tent, while Stratford returned to Abd-ur-Rahim, who had remained stationary, with his immediate followers, during the colloquy. But he had profited by the interval to draw closer the cordon of armed men of whom Stratford had caught sight behind the rocks, and it was evident that, if such a fight as that contemplated by Dick had taken place, there would have been no possibility of escape for any member of the English party.
“I must apologise for keeping you waiting so long, Abd-ur-Rahim,” said Stratford, as he approached. “My friend is a great soldier, and very zealous in carrying out the business with which we are charged. He feared to lose even this half-day’s journey; but I have succeeded in making him see that it is the act of a wise man to accept rest and refreshment whenever it is proffered by one worthy of respect.”
“Truly the wisdom of my lord is great!” responded Abd-ur-Rahim, a smile of gratification curling his white moustache, while an officer behind him muttered to a companion some words in Ethiopian which sounded to Stratford like, “It is not so easy to hoodwink the soldier as the man of many words,” a remark which was distinctly unjust to the listener. He made no sign of having heard it, however, but went on speaking to Abd-ur-Rahim in Arabic.
“There is only one thing I should like to say before we accept your hospitality, Abd-ur-Rahim. It is our habit to guard with great jealousy the women of our party. I believe your own custom in Ethiopia is much the same, and you will not, therefore, take it amiss if we surround them closely while on our march with you?”
“Surely not,” responded Abd-ur-Rahim, somewhat puzzled. “The customs of my lord’s land are even as our own, and his care for the household of his master gives the lie to the shameless tales that have been told me as to the habits of his nation. I have even heard it said that in Khemistan the women of the English go about unveiled!”
Stratford was saved from the necessity of either confirming or denying this tremendous accusation by the approach of Dick and Kustendjian, whom he presented formally by name to Abd-ur-Rahim, mentioning the rank held by each in the Mission. The old man looked at them in some surprise.
“Are these all the English that are with my lord?” he asked. “I heard that he had three white men under him.”
“There is one other,” said Stratford, “a youth; but we have seen nothing of him since the storm broke upon us, and we fear that he has missed his way and been lost.”
“Let not my lord be troubled about the young man,” said Abd-ur-Rahim. “The storm did not last long enough for him to have come to any harm. Surely he has but taken shelter in some cave or hollow of the rocks, and my young men shall go in search of him, and bring him again to my lord.”
Having acknowledged this offer in suitable terms, Stratford and the rest returned to superintend the arrangement of their party under the new conditions. The tent was taken down and packed on its camel again, the mules were harnessed afresh to the litter which carried Sir Dugald; the ladies, mere masses of white linen, were helped to their saddles; the diminished cavalcade of baggage-animals was ranged in order, and the column was ready to start. Stratford considered it only polite and expedient that he should ride beside Abd-ur-Rahim, much to the annoyance of Dick, who brought up again the memory of the murdered Macnaghten, and urgedsotto vocethat if any one’s life was to be risked, Kustendjian’s was the one that could be best spared. Stratford laughed at the idea, and retained his place, and the other two rode on either side of the litter, with the ladies following close behind them, while Ismail Bakhsh and his men formed a modest bodyguard. The household servants and the few muleteers and camel-men who had not been scattered by the stampede followed with the baggage-animals, and before and behind and all around, when the column had advanced into the open plain, came Abd-ur-Rahim’s wild soldiery. A few stray mules and camels were picked up by the way and added to the cavalcade, and presently the procession wound round a spur of the cliffs, and began to ascend the winding road which led up to the hill-fortress of Bir-ul-Malik, the stronghold of Fath-ud-Din.
The town itself was small in extent, and it was evident that the garrison formed the larger proportion of its inhabitants, for the rock-hewn streets were almost deserted when Abd-ur-Rahim passed through the gate with his guests. The town-walls surrounded a considerable area on the summit of the cliff, and this in its turn sloped upwards at its further extremity, on which was erected the citadel, which thus commanded the town on one side and a sheer declivity on the other. Towards this fortification the procession made its way, Dick glancing grimly at the tortuous streets and massive walls of the town as he rode, and muttering to himself that he and his party were in a trap which would take a good deal of getting out of. Passing in at the gate of the citadel, they found themselves in a large courtyard, above which rose a pile of buildings, constructed on and in the sloping face of the rock, the roofs of those lower down forming terraces by which the higher ones could be approached. The lower range of dwellings appeared to form the quarters of the garrison and servants, and those next above them the abodes of the officers, while the highest pile of buildings was evidently intended as the residence of the governor of the city. It was in this building, Abd-ur-Rahim intimated, that he had caused a lodging to be prepared for the illustrious English party; and Stratford, while appreciating the honour done him, felt that he could readily have dispensed with it, since escape would be out of the question save by passing all the lower dwellings and the inner and outer circuit of defences, the only alternative being the possibility of finding some means of descending the precipitous cliff on the other side.
It was necessary to dismount in the courtyard, and to ascend to the Governor’s palace by a winding path cut in the rock and varied by several flights of steps. There was considerable difficulty in conveying Sir Dugald’s litter up this path, and what remained of the luggage had also to be carried up piece by piece, at a large expenditure of time and trouble. When the palace was once reached, however, there was no fault to find with the rooms allotted to the Mission. It was evident that they had remained uninhabited for some time, and they were rather dirty, rather dilapidated, and particularly bare of furniture; but they were large and airy, and, as Stratford and Dick noticed with great satisfaction, the apartments appropriated to the ladies, which had formed part of the original harem, could only be approached by a passage from their own portion of the building. Behind, they looked out on a terrace formed by the top of the ramparts, beneath which the cliff fell steep and unbroken to the desert below. It was an alarming experience to come suddenly to the brink of this declivity, from which the unwary were protected merely by a crumbling parapet, and Rahah only consented to contemplate it when standing at least six yards from the edge, and holding firmly to her mistress’s clothes.
Returning from the terrace into the harem, Georgia began to examine the waifs and strays of luggage which had been cast up with her on this hill-top. Sir Dugald had been conveyed into one of the inner rooms, and Lady Haigh, with the assistance of Chanda Lal, was engaged in making him comfortable. In the large hall, into which the other rooms opened, lay a confused heap of boxes and cases, just as they had been left by the porters who had carried them in.
“Let us see what we have, Rahah,” said Georgia to her handmaid. “You had my dressing-case and my small medicine-chest on the mule with you, so they are safe, at any rate, and your own clothes too. That box there has books in it, I know, and here are our folding-chairs. I don’t see any of my clothes—any of my own things at all, in fact. I shall have to borrow some from Lady Haigh, for I see that two of her tin boxes are there. Those cases are Sir Dugald’s, of course; and now there are only these two great boxes left, marked with my name. What can they have in them? Nothing very useful, I’m afraid—no dresses, at any rate. Just borrow a hammer and chisel from Chanda Lal, Rahah. He was opening a packing-case a minute ago.”
Returning quickly with the desired implements, Rahah forced open part of the lid of one of the boxes.
“Medical stores!” said Georgia, bringing out a packet of cotton-wool, and a tin case containing a roll of prepared india-rubber. “I might be going to start a dispensary up here. Well, we are satisfactorily provided with medicines and surgical appliances, at any rate. Now the other box, Rahah. I only wish there was the slightest possibility of finding some of my clothes in it.”
But no. Rahah drew back with a scream when she plunged her hand into the mass of crumpled paper which guarded the contents of the box; and Georgia, guessing the state of affairs, brought out a huge, carefully-stoppered bottle, containing a gruesome-looking object swimming in a muddy yellow fluid.
“The collection!” she said, disdainfully. “And of course that particularly detestable snake turns up first of all! Well, Rahah, we are in a nice plight, with no clothes or fancy-work or sketching materials, but with a good many of those creatures to amuse us instead.”
Rahah’s countenance expressed unutterable disgust, and her mistress was not proof against a modified feeling of the same character, for it is the reverse of agreeable, even for a highly qualified lady doctor, to find oneself reduced to a single dress, and that a riding-habit. But while this small although sufficiently unpleasant matter was occupying the minds of Georgia and her maid, Stratford and Dick were experiencing a very bad quarter of an hour in their part of the building. When their host left them they had occupied themselves in sorting the few possessions that remained to them; but while they were in the midst of this somewhat melancholy process, Abd-ur-Rahim returned, accompanied by two or three of his officers.
“Is my lord graciously pleased to be contented with the accommodation afforded by my poor house?” asked the old man.
“I am sure we could ask nothing better,” returned Stratford, pleasantly.
“That is well, seeing that it will now be my lord’s abode during certain days,” said Abd-ur-Rahim.
“How is that?” asked Stratford. “You offered us merely a night’s lodging, and we accepted it.”
“True; but a man of my lord’s wisdom will not need to be reminded that it is only fools who allow the gifts of destiny to slip through their fingers. My lord and his companions have been brought into my hand, and here they will remain so long as our lord Fath-ud-Din is kept in prison at Kubbet-ul-Haj.”
“Thank you. There’s nothing like knowing what one has to expect. How many years do you intend to entertain us here?”
“That depends upon another matter. The liberation of Fath-ud-Din hangs upon the treaty that my lord holds, for if that is destroyed, our lord the King is free to do as he will, and the treaty, on account of the means by which it was gained, he finds disgraceful and irksome to him.”
“Show me the King’s mandate demanding the surrender of the treaty,” said Stratford, quickly.
Abd-ur-Rahim shook his head.
“My lord knows that there are certain services that a man may render to his sovereign for which no orders can be given beforehand, although they may be richly rewarded when performed,” he said. “Of such a kind is this matter of the treaty.”
“Don’t you wish you may get it?” asked Stratford, aware that Dick’s fingers were gripping his revolver.
“My lord must know that we shall get it. We have but to compass the death of my lord and his companions, and the treaty must be found; but we would fain not shed blood. Let my lord tell his servant where the treaty is hidden.”
“I absolutely decline to say,” returned Stratford.
“Then we must search my lord’s baggage.”
“You can search where you like, but you cannot make me tell you where the treaty is. I presume you do not intend to search the baggage of the ladies?”
“Nay, my lord! What hiding-place is so safe or so probable as among a woman’s belongings? But there need be no search if my lord will only tell what he knows. Did he bring the treaty into the fortress with him?”
“I refuse to say. One word, Abd-ur-Rahim. There can be no idea of searching the ladies’ things. You may ask what questions you like, but the ladies must have notice beforehand, and it must be in the presence of one of us, or—well, whoever goes into the harem, you will not be alive to do it.”
“My lord need have no fear. He may go now and bid the women prepare for my coming. I will but question them, and believe what they say, for the English always tell the truth. I would accept the word of my lord even now, if he could assure me that he had not the treaty with him when he entered the fortress.”
There was some eagerness in the old man’s tone, as though he found his task distasteful, and would have welcomed this chance of dispensing with the performance of it; but Stratford shook his head.
“I can say nothing. Stand at the door, North, while I go in to warn the ladies. And keep cool. Cheek may possibly bring us through this fix yet, as it did through the other.”
With a frowning brow, Dick took up the position indicated, and Stratford entered the passage and knocked at the door. Georgia looked up from her doleful examination of her possessions as he came in.
“We are trying to discover what we have saved from the wreck of our fortunes,” she said, lightly. “But what is the matter, Mr Stratford? Does your venerable old friend intend to murder us after all?”
“Not unless he is obliged,” returned Stratford; “but it may come to that yet. He means to get hold of the treaty. Fath-ud-Din seems to think that if he enables the King to destroy it, he will be restored to power. I don’t think the King is in the plot at present, but far be it from me to say that he wouldn’t come into it with a good grace if he got the chance.”
“And you want me to hide the treaty?”
“Certainly not. By no manner of means. I merely came to tell you that Abd-ur-Rahim insists on questioning you and Lady Haigh as to whether you know anything about it. He will come in here when he has finished ransacking our place, so put yourburkason again, please.”
“But, Mr Stratford, where is the treaty?”
“Here,” said Stratford, exhibiting the front of his coat, “in a pocket which my bearer and I contrived for it. You see, it goes between the cloth and the lining, and is sewn in. It is rolled up so tightly that it does not show at all under ordinary circumstances; but if they search me, they are bound to find it immediately.”
“And what then?”
“I can’t give it up, of course, so that if they attempt to search us, we must show fight. We must only hope they won’t, for our opposing the idea would arouse suspicion at once.”
“If they have any sense whatever, it is the first thing they will do,” said Georgia, promptly. “No, Mr Stratford, I am not going to allow you and Dick to run such a risk, and perhaps bring destruction upon us all. Give me the treaty, and I will hide it.”
“And transfer the risk to yourself? Now, Miss Keeling, do you really think me capable of doing such a thing?”
“There will be no risk whatever. I have an idea. Take off your coat, Mr Stratford—quick!” with a stamp of the foot—“there is no time to lose. Give me those scissors, Rahah, and thread a needle with grey cotton. That’s it; now sew up that slit as neatly as you can.”
“What are you going to do?” inquired Stratford, standing helplessly by in his shirt-sleeves, while Georgia was rolling the fateful parchment into the smallest possible compass, and Rahah stitched up with marvellous rapidity the yawning hole in his coat.
“Never mind, for I won’t tell you. You are to know nothing. There is your coat, Mr Stratford. Keep Abd-ur-Rahim outside for two minutes, and then let him do his worst.”
Half-reluctant and wholly perplexed, Stratford allowed himself to be gently impelled in the direction of the door, and went out, to find Dick, still on guard, protesting vehemently that he would never allow himself to be searched, and that the first man that laid a finger on him with that purpose in view would have little opportunity for repenting his rashness afterwards. Perceiving at once that his friend guessed he had the treaty upon him, and was endeavouring to divert suspicion to himself, Stratford proceeded, not without a little malicious pleasure in the circumstance, to cut the ground from under Dick’s feet by remarking calmly—
“Keep cool, North; we are prisoners, though we were seized by a mean trick, and we must submit to the treatment our jailers think fit to inflict upon us. Abd-ur-Rahim”—he turned with dignity to his too hospitable host—“we are your prisoners. As to the means by which you induced us to put ourselves in your power I say nothing. Still, I ask you as a gentleman, is this insult necessary?”
“By no means,” returned Abd-ur-Rahim, promptly. “If my lord and his friends will give their word that they have not the treaty about them, they shall not be touched.”
To the utter stupefaction of Dick, Stratford at once gave the required assurance, which was repeated by his friend and Kustendjian. Some demur was made as to accepting the word of the latter, on the ground that he was not an Englishman; but on Stratford’s volunteering the assurance that he was speaking the truth, his statement also was considered satisfactory.
In the meantime, Georgia and her maid were not idle in the inner room. The moment that the door had closed behind Stratford, Georgia flew to the box which contained the collection, and drew out the bottle enshrining the historic snake. The roll of prepared india-rubber from the case of medical stores was the next requisite, and, unfastening it, she made Rahah cut off a piece a little longer than the treaty in its rolled-up form, and wide enough to wrap round it twice. When the roll had been made as tight and smooth as possible, she tied up the ends very securely.
“Now, Rahah, take off the bladder from the top of that bottle as carefully as you can. Don’t break it, whatever you do. Now get the cork out. Dig it out with the point of the scissors if it won’t come easily; we mustn’t use a cork-screw. Turn your head away if you don’t like the smell. There,—what a good thing that the spirit has sunk a little!” She dropped the roll containing the treaty into the great bottle, in the midst of the coils of the snake, replaced the cork, tied the bladder over it again, and, holding the bottle up, looked at it critically. The effect was perfect. The dull-brown of the india-rubber wrapping combined with the bolder tones of the serpent’s skin and the unpleasant yellow of the spirit so completely, that scarcely a trace of the intruder was perceptible even to her practised eye.