When Mrs. Haxton descended the yacht's gangway, and seated herself in the boat which had brought Abdullah from the shore, she threw a main with fate. But she was acting with her eyes open, whereas poor mortality is oft called on to take that dangerous hazard blindfold. During several haggard hours she had weighed her prospects in the scale of judgment, and the balance was wofully unfavorable. Wealth she had none; and now she saw position slipping away also. As sure as the sun would rise next day, so sure was it, as matters stood then, that exposure and humiliation must arrive. To this hard, level-headed, shrewd woman there was no blinking the outcome of an official inquiry. Alfieri was in Massowah, Alfieri, the man she had wronged as Delilah wronged Samson. If he were arrested, owing to Irene's abduction, he would demand to be confronted with von Kerber, would ask that she, too, should be arraigned with the Austrian, and put forward such an indisputable plea that, whatever the outcome for the Italian, her English friends must recoil from her with indignation. And there was worse in store. Mr. Fenshawe's generosity might provide the means of returning to Europe, but she would go back discredited, a mere adventuress, while the publicity attached to the yacht's errand could hardly fail to bring her name into fatal notoriety. In a word, social ruin stared her in the face, and the prospect was so unpleasing that her despairing glance turned more than once towards a dressing-case containing drugs whose labels spelt oblivion.
Then came the Arab, with news of Irene's return, and, like any desperate gamester who ventures the last shreds of a wasted capital on some almost impossible chance, she determined to fight Alfieri to the end.
It was not a thing to be done in cold blood. Unarmed men have saved their lives by boldly attacking lions, but that is no argument in favor of an unarmed man going out of his way to search for the king of beasts. And the measure of Alfieri's hate was supplied by his daring attempt to capture her. She shuddered to think of the result had he been successful, yet she nerved herself now to out-maneuver him. Of course, there were some slight elements in her favor. The blunder which had placed her enemy at loggerheads with the authorities gave her a momentary advantage. The man's lust for vengeance might, indeed, sweep aside her attack, but she must risk that. Had fate been kinder, Mrs. Haxton was cast in the mold that produces notable women. She knew when to unite boldness with calculation; she would always elect to die fighting rather than cower without a blow; and she would never believe a cause lost while there was a man to be wheedled.
The Somali crew ferried her swiftly towards the landing-stage, and she bade Abdullah render a full account of the rescue.
"You speak of a boat," she commented, with a puzzled air. "Did you see the occupants?"
"No, madame. We heard some shouting by Italians. That is all."
"A boat!" she said, deep in thought. "That seems to suggest that I was to be brought back to the town. The hired carriage and the long drive into the country were intended to throw dust in the eyes of those who might endeavor to find me."
"Or to a ship," suggested Abdullah. "Had they a dhow in readiness? Perhaps, by this time, they may have slipped away to sea under cover of the darkness."
Mrs. Haxton laughed, but her mirth had not its wonted musical cadence.
"No," she said, "that is not likely.Grand Dieu, if only it were! Now, listen, and do exactly as I bid you. Somewhere in Massowah, probably in one of the small restaurants, you will find a man named Giuseppe Alfieri. You must inquire at every café and boarding house in the main street—there are not many. You cannot mistake him. You met him once at Assouan, and you may recall his appearance—he is tall and thin, with a lean, sallow face, clean shaven. He has long, black hair and his eyes are large and deeply set. When you find him, you will say that I wish to see him. He will be surprised, and talk big, but he will surely question you. Make no secret of the fact that you are in my confidence. Tell him I offer a truce, that I am in a position to make terms. He may bluster, and boast, perhaps, that I am on my knees. Well, admit it, and remind him that where I fail, he, at least, has no chance of success. Do you understand?' It is a question as between money and revenge. Alfieri is something of a fool. If the bait be tempting enough he will swallow it, and not for the first time."
Abdullah nodded with complete comprehension of her under-thought. TheItalian had been tricked once. It might be possible to trick him again.
"If he agrees, Madame, when is he to meet you?"
"To-morrow morning, at eleven o'clock, at the hotel."
"But this other affair has set the bazaar in an uproar. One cannot carry off young English ladies so easily. Monsieur Alfieri may be a prisoner."
"No such luck," said Mrs. Haxton bitterly. "You are not acquainted with the twists and turns of events, Abdullah. That which was simple at Assouan has become complex here. Alfieri has inflamed the mind of some high official at Rome, or he never could have persuaded the Governor to go to such lengths as to arrest Fenshawe Effendi, not to speak of Monsieur le Baron. No, this pig of a Governor has a Minister behind him. He may threaten, but Alfieri is safe."
"Nevertheless, he may be hidden."
"That will suit me equally well. Zut! Abdullah, you are not so quick as usual to-night."
"Pardon, Madame, you have told me what I am to do, but you have said no words as to yourself, yet behold, we shall be on shore in a few minutes."
"I? I am going to the fort. I have one card to play with hisExcellency. Pray to your Prophet, Abdullah, that it may succeed."
The Arab bowed silently. It might be that he stood to win, no matter who lost, in this war of intrigue.
"Do I see you again to-night, Madame?" he asked, as the boat drew alongside the jetty.
"I think not. Come with me until I obtain an alabeeyah. Then, to your search, and report to me early to-morrow."
They soon found an alabeeyah, one of the small open carriages made popular in Egypt by the French, and Mrs. Haxton was driven towards the fort. The Arab began his quest for Giuseppe Alfieri, but found him not, for the most convincing reason that Alfieri was then seated in the Governor's library, smoking the Governor's cigarettes, and drinking the Governor's best Capri.
His Excellency had just returned from the hotel. He, too, had deferred to the morning a tactful explanation that pressure of business had prevented the despatch of Mr. Fenshawe's cablegrams that night. But tact was not his most obvious gift. Though he hoped to mollify the irate yacht-owner with soft words, he did not spare Alfieri now.
"The madness of it!" he cried. "You say it was a mistake. That is the plea of a stupid child. The affair would have been just as awkward if you had carried off the Signora Haxton. She is a British subject. In two days the newspapers of Europe would magnify the incident into an international dispute, and, with Abyssinia always ready to fan the flame—"
"Believe me, Excellency, the Signora herself would have written that she had gone away of her own free will," broke in the other.
"I doubt it very much. Her friends could not fail to think that she was writing under compulsion. I tell you, idiot that you are, you have prejudiced your own case, made difficulties where they did not exist. If your sworn statements are true—"
"They are true, true as death," vociferated Alfieri.
"Ebbene! Why, then, strengthen your enemies by giving them just cause for complaint?"
"If only you knew what I have suffered through that woman, Excellency!" came the angry cry.
"Oh, blame the woman, of course," said the Governor, with the fine scorn of a man who has married a meek wife. "I lose patience with these transports. If a woman preferred another to me I would dance at her wedding."
"You would not dance if she had used all the arts of treachery to rob you of your fortune."
"I flatter myself I would resist the tricks of any siren who was merely anxious to delude me. But this is beside the question. These English suspect you of planning the outrage. Frankly, I cannot see my way to meet the inquiry which must be made, sooner or later. Perhaps the old man, Fenshawe, may consent to tone down his messages to-morrow. If he refuses, and sails to Aden, the very cables will fuse under the storm of remonstrance from Rome. I may be recalled. That pig, Festiano, will be appointed in my place. The more I consider your imbecility the less am I inclined to put faith in anything you have said. How do I know that your Greek was not an addle-headed ass like yourself?Corpo di Dio!His treasure of Saba may be a piece of moon-madness akin to this tragi-comic plot of yours."
"I would have bent her to my will. I could make her go to this Austrian dog and tell him begone. I could force her to confess to the Englishman that she had deceived him."
"Saetta!I am out of temper with you," growled the Governor, lighting a cigarette and smoking furiously.
He was fond of plain speaking, this temporary ruler of Erythrea. The sudden death of a Governor appointed from Rome had given him his chance. He might be superseded at any moment by some carpetbagger with political influence, and it went against the grain that the private feuds of people whose quarrels did not interest him in the least should be able to wreck his career. Alfieri came to him with good credentials. If the man's story was borne out by facts, not only would Italy receive a handsome sum from a colony which had hitherto been a drain on her resources, but he, Marchetti, would reap some share of the credit, not to mention the bonus promised for his assistance. His instructions from headquarters were clear. He had acted within his rights in arresting von Kerber and detaining Mr. Fenshawe until the latter gave up an undertaking to land on Italian territory without permission. That he had decided to release the Englishman unconditionally was a further tribute to his good judgment. Having caged the hawk there was no harm in freeing the pigeon. But Alfieri's passionate and ill-advised, attempt to abduct Mrs. Haxton had changed the whole aspect of affairs. No wonder the stout and pompous little man fumed and fretted in vain, endeavor to climb out of this unexpected pit.
Alfieri looked at his restless companion in moody silence. In aspect, he was the exact opposite to the podgy Governor. Slender, and loosely built, he had the large, sunken eyes of a dreamer, the narrow forehead of the self-opinionated, the delicate nostrils and mobile mouth of the neurotic temperament. It was easy to see that such a man would brood over an injury, real or imagined, till he had lashed himself into a tempest of wrath. His emotions could know no mean. From sullen despair he could rebound to the most extravagant optimism. That very day he had rushed away from the painstaking details of a semi-scientific expedition in order to—gratify a Sicilian impulse which called for the ruthless settlement of an old score.
Even now, the sense of failure rankled deeper than the contemptuous anger of his fellow-countryman; but the practical-minded Governor had no intent to leave matters where they stood.
"It seems to me," he said, turning suddenly on Alfieri, after gazing out across the harbor and watching the twinkling lights on theAphrodite, "it seems to me that the best thing we can do now is to arrange a compromise. It is not too late. We must board the Englishman's yacht early in the morning—"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. A servant entered. There was a lady to see his Excellency. By Bacchus, a lady, at that hour, nearly ten o'clock! Who was she, and what did she want? He could not be bothered—
Then he read the name on the card brought by the man, and whistled softly, lest perchance this latest phase of an electrical situation should demand words not in the repertory of excellencies.
"Wait outside for one moment," he said. Alfieri, alive to SignorMarchetti's suppressed excitement, wondered who the visitor could be.The governor examined the card again. He gave his companion a ratherdreary smile.
"You are but a tinfoil conspirator, after all, my friend," said he."Here is a woman who despises you."
Alfieri sprang to his feet with an oath.
"She has not dared!" he cried.
"Calm yourself, I pray you. The Signora Haxton has come to pay a visit—that is all. The hour is late, but, from what you have told me, she is not likely to be troubled by a consideration of that kind. Now, Signor Alfieri, I am going to receive her. Do not forget that I am the Chief magistrate of Massowah. It is probable that, through her instrumentality, I may be able to extricate both myself and you from the predicament into which your folly has plunged us. And I warn you that any display of temper will be fatal. Let us go slowly and we may go far."
Alfieri, all a-quiver with uncontrollable emotion, fixed his glowing eyes on the door when the servant returned with Mrs. Haxton. She entered, with the graceful ease of one accustomed to meet greater dignitaries than the head of a small Italian colony. Signor Marchetti advanced a few paces. Where a lady was concerned he could be courteous enough, his abruptness being a specially cultivated mannerism intended to impress natives with a sense of his importance. But, beneath the skin of office, he was Italian to the core, and he promised himself a fine scenic effect when the Englishwoman's glance fell on the other occupant of the room.
But Mrs. Haxton had nerved herself to play for a high stake. Though she shrank back a little and caught her breath when she saw Alfieri, there was a restraint in her attitude which might have surprised a more astute person than Governor Marchetti. Her eyes contracted somewhat, her lips tightened, a hand clutched at the folds of a cloak thrown loosely over her shoulders. Marchetti paid heed to these things, and interpreted them as evidences of timidity. A man accustomed to wield a rapier rather than a cudgel would not have made that initial error. Alfieri's presence changed the whole situation, and Mrs. Haxton, in whom the stage had lost a great actress, instantly bent her wits to deal with the new set of circumstances thus created.
"You speak Italian, signora? Ah, capital! Pray be seated," said the Governor affably. "As you have honored me with a call at this unusual hour I take it that your business is urgent. Do you wish to confer with me in private? If so, Signor Alfieri, who is not unknown to you, I believe, will leave us for a few minutes. Otherwise, you can talk quite frankly in his presence."
That was the Governor's method of putting his two visitors at their ease. The lady would assume he knew everything. The man would take his cue from a friendly opening. What could be better?
"I am glad that Signor Alfieri is here, your Excellency, though I must admit that I did not expect to see him," said Mrs. Haxton, taking the proffered chair. "My business concerns him, to a certain extent. By all means, let him remain."
Her voice was under control. She spoke Italian fluently, and her smooth, clear accents seemed to stir strange memories in Alfieri's soul. But, thinking to annoy her, he forced a spiteful grin to his thin lips.
"Allowing for the lapse of years, Rita," he said, "and bearing in mind your natural distress at to-day's occurrences, you are looking remarkably well."
She flashed one quick glance at him, then smiled sweetly at Marchetti.
"My distress ended when the Signorina Fenshawe was brought back to her friends. Of course, it was a dreadful thing that she should be carried off in such a way. Were it not for the skill and resource displayed by one of theAphrodite'sofficers, there is no knowing what the consequences might have been."
"You have seen the signorina at the hotel?" put in the Governor.
"No, I came straight from the yacht. I thought it advisable."
"But the affair has been misrepresented. It is a mere bagatelle. There exists, shall we say, a certain disagreement between you and Signor Alfieri. There was an unhappy mistake, which I would have rectified without any help from the yacht. You see, rumor is apt to exaggerate."
"I think you are taking a very reasonable and proper view, your Excellency. It will be best for all parties if we try to regard the incident in that light."
Marchetti was vaguely conscious of a too complete agreement in the lady's tone. But he seized the apparent advantage.
"Then that is settled," he said cheerfully. "I have already apologized to Signor Fenshawe. To-morrow a more ample explanation and expression of regret should remove any cause of friction."
"I have reason to think there will be no difficulty in arriving at an amicable settlement, provided you fall in with the suggestion I am here to make."
"And that is?"
"That you release the Baron von Kerber to-night."
"Ha!" snarled Alfieri, but the Governor angrily motioned him to be silent.
"No one is better aware than yourself, signora, how utterly impossible is your request," he said.
"The proposal is not even worthy of debate, then?"
"But no."
"That is a pity. My small experience of life has taught me that when two reasonable people, or even three, hold different views on any given subject, there is always something to be said in favor of each contention. Indeed, wisdom leans towards a compromise in such a case."
"You presuppose a mere divergence of opinion. Here we have no room for it. Your confederate, signora, if you will pardon a harsh term, is believed to have stolen valuable documents from my friend, Signor Alfieri. My Government has instructed me to arrest him, and to use every means, not stopping short of armed force, to prevent theAphroditefrom undertaking what is little else than a piratical expedition. You see, therefore, that it is not in my power, if I were so minded, to set Baron von Kerber at liberty. Compromise in any other direction would appeal to me. Where Baron von Kerber is concerned, I am helpless."
His Excellency was firmly planted on the gubernatorial dais once more. Mrs. Haxton evidently demanded plain speaking. Being a blunt man, he gave it to her. But she smiled again, quite pleasantly.
"That is what I may describe as the correct official attitude," she said. "If it were founded on fact, it would be unassailable. But Signor Alfieri can tell you that the Baron most certainly did not steal anything from him. If a culprit must be found, it was I, not Franz von Kerber, who should be charged with theft."
"Ah,Dio mio, you hear? She admits!"
Alfieri almost screeched the words. He was in a frenzy of passion. This woman had ever the power to drive him beyond bounds. He hated her now with an intensity born of derided love. The Governor would have stormed at him, but Mrs. Haxton accepted the challenge too promptly.
"I admit nothing," she cried with a sudden shrillness. "If admissions are necessary I shall wait until Abdullah confronts you. Then, when I have told my story, he shall tell his."
"Who cares for Abdullah!" came the retort. "Not I. It is well, indeed, to appeal to the testimony of an unknown Arab."
"You shall have the opportunity of refuting him," said. Mrs. Haxton. "He is in Massowah. But that is a question for such tribunal as may exist in this lawless town. Your Excellency's decision is final?" she added, turning to the Governor.
"Absolutely irrevocable, signora. You see how it stands—my orders are explicit."
"Their explicitness is as nothing compared to the clearness of the next mandate you will receive from Rome," she blazed out. "Was it according to your orders that an English lady was carried off by brigands, simply to glut the vengeance of my discarded Beppo? You spoke of confederates, Signor Marchetti. What of the confederacy that permits this man to be your guest while your officers are making mock search for him in the bazaar? Your judges, even such as they are, will laugh him out of court when he tries to substantiate the charge he has brought against Baron von Kerber. Poor, love-sick fool!—to gratify his spite he attacks his rival with false evidence rather than let it be known that a woman twisted him round her little finger. Look at him now; he would strike me dead, if he dared; but he cannot answer me."
Alfieri leaped to his feet. His voice rose to a cracked falsetto.
"You hear, you hear!" was his cry. "She robbed me of the papyrus, yet boasts of it. She is a thief, self-confessed."
Mrs. Haxton also sprang up. Her physical dread of the man had yielded to the triumph of having cornered him.
"Truly I hope his Excellency hears," she said. "If I am to blame for the loss of your papers, why is Baron von Kerber in prison on your testimony?"
"You are both in league," he almost screamed. "I was blind, infatuated, at Assouan. It was the Austrian who planned my undoing, and you, his paramour, who cajoled me out of my senses."
"I refuse to stay here and be insulted by such a coward," she said, gathering her skirts as though she intended to take her departure instantly. "But it will be a fine story that Signor Fenshawe cables from Aden when he tells how the Governor of Massowah aided and abetted this half-crazy poltroon in onslaughts on defenseless women. It was not enough that Italian law should be misused to further his ends, but the scum of the bazaar is enlisted under his banner, and he is supported by the authorities in an act that would be reprobated by any half-savage state in existence."
"I pray you calm yourself, signora," exclaimed Marchetti, now fully alive to the dangers confronting him. "You must see that I have only acted in an official capacity. I, at least, have no feeling in the matter. I received certain information—"
"Which was entirely misleading and one-sided," she broke in imperiously.
"Which certainly did not refer to you in any particular," was the sharp rejoinder, while he glanced at Alfieri, "If this gentleman is now prepared to say that he was mistaken—"
"Who dares to hint at any admission on my part?" shouted Alfieri.
The stout Governor did not like to be bawled at. He was sufficiently embarrassed already by the quagmire into which Alfieri had plunged him.
"You ought to be careful in your choice of words," he said pompously."There is no question of 'dare' or 'dare not' where I am concerned.Signora, do me the favor of sitting here while I discuss mattersbriefly with Signor Alfieri. Signor, be good enough to precede me."
He pointed to the door. With a queer catching at her breath, Mrs.Haxton sank into a chair. Alfieri folded his arms and gazed at theGovernor with eyes that blazed under his heavy brows.
"You are the representative of Italy," he said, making a great effort to speak quietly. "I call on you to lodge that woman in a cell so that she may be tried with her accomplice."
"If you do not go instantly, and in silence, into the corridor, I shall call on my guards to take you there by force," exclaimed Marchetti with a more successful assumption of ease.
Alfieri turned his lambent glance on Mrs. Haxton, but the Governor stopped the imminent outburst.
"I said 'in silence,'" he roared, stretching a hand to grasp a bell-rope. Alfieri, with a fierce gesture of disdain, went out. His Excellency bowed to the lady.
"Two minutes," he murmured. "The wine on the table is Capri. You will find it grateful after this somewhat heated interview."
But Mrs. Haxton drank no wine when the Governor followed Alfieri. She bit her lips and clenched her hands in an agony of restraint. This lull in the storm was more trying than the full fury of the blast. The Governor's two minutes lengthened into ten. Then he hurried back, alone. He was manifestly ill at ease, though he spoke glibly enough.
"I am taking a grave step, signora," he said, "but I feel that the peculiar circumstances warrant it. I have released the Baron von Kerber. He is now awaiting you, and it will give me much pleasure to conduct you to your carriage. Yet I pray you give earnest heed to me. I have told him what I now tell you—this undertaking of yours must be abandoned. Not only is it my duty to prevent it at all costs, but an expedition starts for the Five Hills this very night. So, you see, you are sure to fail in any case. The exact locality is known, and Signor Alfieri has an armed escort. I repeat, you have failed. May I hope, without being rude, that your love affairs may be more prosperous. Charming woman that you are, I cannot compliment you on either of your present suitors. My advice Is, go back to England, and help me tomorrow in persuading Signor Fenshawe to let matters rest where they are."
As one walking in a dream, Mrs. Haxton accompanied Marchetti to the courtyard. There she found von Kerber, who ran to meet her.
"So it is you," he cried in English. "I guessed it, though they would tell me nothing."
The Governor was most polite. He would not lecture them, before natives.
"I have spoken as a friend, to-night," he murmured. "To-morrow I shall be an official once more."
The alabeeyah rattled across the paved square towards the gateway. Alfieri, on whom an officer kept an eye, watched it with malevolence from an upper window.
"There go two people whom I hate," he said to his guardian. "They have escaped me this time. When I am rich, rich as any king in Europe, I shall have a king's power. Then I shall find them and crush them utterly."
The driver swung his horses towards the sea front.
"No, no," cried Mrs. Haxton. "Go through the bazaar. Drive slowly." And, in the next breath, she explained to von Kerber: "We must find Abdullah. He is somewhere in the main street. Above all things, we must find Abdullah. Alfieri leaves Massowah tonight, and he is making for the Five Hills. Our only hope lies with Abdullah."
After eight hours of dreamless sleep, Irene awoke to a torpid but blissful conviction that bed is a most comfortable place when bones ache and the slightest movement is made irksome by patches of chafed skin. In fact, having buried her hands gingerly in the wealth of brown hair that streamed over the pillow, she lay and watched the white planks of the deck overhead, wondering idly what time it was. The effort to guess the hour brought her a stage nearer complete consciousness. Her first precise recollection was also pleasant. She thought of the way in which Royson had carried her in his arms not so many hours earlier, and the memory banished all others for many minutes.
If she smiled and blushed a little, it may be pleaded that she was twenty years of age, and had passed her girlhood amidst surroundings from which young men eligible to carry young ladies in their arms, or even hold them there, were rigorously excluded. Not that her grandfather was a misanthrope, but his interests were bound up so thoroughly in Egyptian research that his friends were, for the most part, elderly savants with kindred tastes. The wreck, of theBokhara, too, with Irene's father and mother among its passengers, had helped to cut him off from the social world. When the grief of that tragedy had yielded to the passing years he hardly realized that the little child who had crept into his affections was growing up into a beautiful and light-hearted girl. Quite insensibly she assimilated herself to his hobbies and studies, became mistress of his London house and fine estate in Berkshire, and, by operation of forces more effective in their way than any Puritanical safeguards, lived apart from the gay throng in which she was eminently fitted to take a leading place.
Irene offered, then, a somewhat unusual type. While other girls might recount the number of male hearts they had subdued during the past season, Irene could state, with equal accuracy, the names of the gods of the Memphite order. Though her grandfather's wealth and the eagerness of a skilled maid compelled her to take a passing interest in fashions, she was far more devoted to variations in scarabs. Such attainments, if sedulously pursued during the succeeding decade, might have converted her into an alarmingly precise Bas Bleu! As it was, the Memphite gods smiled on her, and the scarabs might buzz off to their museums contentedly at any moment, for Irene was only waiting the advent of an undreamed-of influence into her life to develop into a tender, sympathetic, delightful womanhood.
Indeed, if Ka and Ra and beetle-headed Khepra were so important in the scheme of existence that this dainty scientist cared naught for the moth-life of society, why, then, did she blush when she remembered how closely Dick Royson had clasped her to his breast over-night? Perhaps she might have asked herself that question, only to blush more deeply in trying to answer it, had not her thoughts been distracted by the extraordinary behavior of a silk underskirt hanging on a peg at the foot of the bed. It was swinging to and fro with the regularity of a pendulum, and that which is regular in a pendulum is fantastically irregular in an underskirt. She sat up quickly, and listened. There was a swish of water outside. Now and again she heard a slight movement of the rudder chains in their boxes. Then, all aglow with wonder and excitement, she jumped out of bed and drew the curtain of one of the two tiny portholes that gave light to her cabin.
Yes, another marvel had happened. The yacht was speeding along under canvas,—was already far out at sea. Where Massowah's yellow sandspit shone yesterday were now blue wavelets dancing in the sun, and Irene was sailor enough to know that theAphroditewas bound south.
She rang an electric bell, and her maid came.
"Yes, miss," said the girl, "we've been going since midnight. As soon as Mrs. Haxton and Baron von Kerber came on board—"
"Baron von Kerber, did you say?" broke in Irene breathlessly.
"Yes, miss. He came with Mrs. Haxton. Mind you, miss, I haven't seen him, but one of the stewards told me that the Baron went straight to Mr. Fenshawe's cabin, and the order was given to raise the anchor immediately. I'm sure they made plenty of noise. They woke me up, miss, and I'm a sound sleeper."
The maid was ready to say more, but Irene had learnt to discourage servants' gossip.
"I think theAphroditemight have fired cannons last night without disturbing me," she declared lightly. "What time is it?"
"Nearly nine o'clock, miss. No one seemed to be stirring, so Mr. Gibson put off breakfast for half an hour. He said that everybody must be worn out after yesterday's worries."
Irene laughed. Gibson, the head steward, a fatherly sort of man, was a martinet in the matter of punctuality at meals. This adjourning of the breakfast hour was a great concession on his part. It showed how strenuous life had been at Massowah.
Despite her aches and pains, she dressed rapidly. She was all agog to learn how von Kerber had regained his liberty, and what new development was marked by the yacht's unexpected sailing. When she hurried to the bridge for news, the first person she met was Royson, and perhaps one of those old deities of Memphis would have smiled darkly were he privileged to see the tell-tale color that leaped to both faces.
Naturally, the girl was the speedier to find her tongue.
"Good gracious, Mr. Royson," she said, "what is the meaning of this?" and a generous hand-sweep included sea and sky and distant coastline in the eager question.
"I don't know," he said. "Captain Stump and Mr. Tagg entered into a conspiracy to keep me in bed. I have not been on deck five minutes."
"But didn't you ask? Aren't you consumed with curiosity? Who is in charge of the bridge?"
"Mr. Tagg. His stock of information is limited. 'Cleared the islands at four bells; course South-40-East' is practically all he has to say."
"It may be, then, that you are good at guessing? Have you not heard that the Baron is with us?"
"Yes, Miss Fenshawe, I knew that last night. Indeed, I heard his boat hail the watch. I was lying awake, and the Baron's voice is easily recognizable."
"Mrs. Haxton seems to have succeeded where all else failed. Did you see any of their companions? Was El Jaridiah with them?"
"No. I plead guilty to opening a port and looking out. The tide carried the boat close beneath me when she was cast loose from the gangway. El Jaridiah, or Abdullah, if that is his name, was not there."
"It is all very mysterious and puzzling," said Irene, gazing at the purple mountains which fringed the southwest horizon. "I am sorry we have not been able to reward the man, and I had set my heart on buying Moti. Don't you think it was rather wonderful that such a weedy-looking animal should have carried us so safely?"
"It was all very wonderful," Dick replied, but he did not dare to meet the glance suddenly turned on him. For some reason, Miss Fenshawe decided to guide their talk into a less personal channel.
"If the breakfast gong does not ring immediately, I shall go and hammer on grandad's door," she vowed. "He hates being disturbed when he is dressing, but I am simply aching to find out what has happened and where we are going. And, talking of aches, Mr. Royson, look at my poor wrists."
She held out both her hands, close together, with the palms downwards. Royson noticed instantly she was wearing a beautiful marquise ring on the middle finger of her left hand. The rules which govern the use of these baubles were beyond his ken. A plain gold ring on a lady's so-called fourth finger is a marriage token known to all men, but he had not the ghost of an idea where an engagement ring should be carried, and he jumped to the conclusion that the girl was wearing one. Why had he never seen it before, he wondered? Was it a hint, a reminder of the conventions? It is probable that Irene herself would have been surprised if she were told that it was once the custom for engaged young ladies to reveal their happiness by displaying a ring on the middle finger, while those who were free but prepared to wed might coyly announce the fact by a ring on the index finger. Be that as it may, Royson was dumfounded by the sight of the glistening diamonds. They winked at him evilly, and his tongue tripped:
"I cannot tell you how sorry I am," he murmured thickly, Irene dropped her hands.
"Unless you are able to squint, you didn't look at my wrists at all," she exclaimed. A gong pealed loudly from the cabin, and she ran off. Dick made for the chart-room, in front of which Tagg was leaning on the rail and gazing ahead.
"You've bin quick," said the chief. "'Keep her steady as she goes, South-40-East, until the ole raw comes on deck. If the wind drops, call 'im."
Then Dick remembered that Tagg had bidden him have his breakfast before he came on duty. Royson said nothing, but took his station on the bridge. Tagg, being lame, preferred to swing himself to the main deck, whence he hopped into the small cabin where the officers ate their meals. He came back instantly.
"Wot's the game?" he inquired sympathetically.
"You've eaten nothin'. Feelin' bad?"
"No. Oh, no," Royson laughed and reddened.
"Then wot's wrong? Didn't you fancy the corfee an' bacon, after the high livin' ashore?"
"The fact is, I met Miss Fenshawe, and she detained me a few minutes."
"Is that any reason why you shouldn't eat?"
"None whatever. I—er—really—forgot."
"Forgot your breakfast! Come orf of it."
Tagg climbed up, monkey-like.
"Take my tip," he said earnestly, "This is a bad climate to go hungry in. You'd 'ave a touch of the sun in less'n no time. Just go below, an' force yerself to nibble a bit. It'll do you good, an' I don't mind keepin' watch another spell."
Royson obeyed in silence. His friend's kindliness supplied an unconscious but necessary tonic to his system. Obviously, the second mate of theAphroditehad no business to trouble his head about the symbolism of rings worn by Miss Irene Fenshawe. Yet he wished he knew which was the engagement finger.
Shortly before noon Captain Stump came on deck to take the sun. This was a semi-religious rite with Stump. Though the contours of the coast drawn along two sides of the Admiralty chart rendered a solar observation quite needless within sight of land, he proceeded to ascertain the yacht's position according to the formula, or, at any rate, according to such portion of it as applied to his rule-of-thumb calculations. Having pricked the chart and written the log, Stump bit the end off a cigar. He was ready for a gossip with Royson.
"You won't find life quite so lively at Aden as at Massowah," he said.
"We are bound for Aden, then?"
"Where did you think we was headin' for? Melbourne?"
"Well, sir, if I gave any thought to it I inclined more to the belief that we were making for our original destination."
"An' where was that?"
"A bay somewhere south of us, not far from Perin."
"Have you heard anything fresh?" asked Stamp quickly.
"Not a word. But, if we reach Aden, I suppose the expedition will be abandoned."
"They're chewin' about it now in the saloon," said the skipper, glancing over his shoulder to make sure there was no one within earshot. His sailor's eye swept the horizon at the same instant, and he saw a smoke-blur some miles astern. Breaking off the conversation abruptly, he Weal into the chart-house, and returned with a telescope, which, he balanced against a stay.
"There's a steamer comin' after us in a desprit hurry," he announced, when a prolonged examination had enabled him to form an opinion.
"After us?" repeated Dick.
"That's the way I read it. She's from Massowah. The reg'lar channel is fifty miles east. Tell you wot, it's that I-talian gunboat the guv'nor spoke about."
"But she was not in port when we left."
"No. We passed her comin' in."
"Ah, she recognized us?"
"Not much. We were under sail, an carried no masthead light. When I twigged hers I tied a couple of sou'westers over our side lights. It's a good thing at sea to mind your own business sometimes, an', more'n that, to take care that other people mind theirs when they want to be nasty."
"Shall we keep on under canvas, sir?"
"As long as the wind lasts," said Stump, closing the telescope and rolling off towards the saloon. Within a minute all hands were on deck. The corporate life of a small ship is closely knit. The word had gone round that a gunboat was in pursuit, and every one wanted to see her.
Mr. Fenshawe and Baron von Kerber stood apart. The older man was visibly annoyed by this new instance of Italian interference. Royson, pacing the tiny bridge, caught an occasional glimpse of the millionaire's emphatic gestures. The Austrian was more sallow than usual, but that might be the result of his unpleasant experiences on the previous day. Irene came to the bridge. Though she knew that none except the captain might converse with the officer on duty, she whispered timidly:
"They won't fire at us, Mr. Royson, will they?"
He smiled reassuringly. The tremor in her voice was delightful. It made him forget that wretched ring for a moment.
"No, that is not to be feared, Miss Fenshawe. My experience of the sea is no greater than your own, but you may be sure the Italians will follow the rules. If they really wish to overhaul us they will fly a signal soon."
The warship was traveling sixteen knots an hour, theAphroditeseven, so the chase did not last long. About one o'clock the green, white, and red ensign of Italy fluttered to the end of the pursuing vessel's foreyard, where it could be seen most easily; under it were shown the red and white striped code signal, and the "J" flag, which latter, in the language of the seas means, "Stop; I 'have something important to communicate."
The British ensign was run up, followed by the answering pennant, the mainsail was lowered, the foresail backed, and the yacht was brought to, while the Italian ship, which was made out to be theCigno, came on rapidly.
Mrs. Haxton approached. Stump and whispered in his ear.
"Quite right, ma'am," he nodded. He walked forward and looked at the crew, mustered in full strength in the fore part.
"Every man, 'cept those on watch, go below,", he growled, "an' mind you keep there, with al ports closed, until I ax you to show your ugly mugs on deck."
They obeyed in sulky silence, though they appreciated the reason of the order. Hence, when, theCignostopped her panting engines abreast of theAphrodite, there were many more pairs of eyes watching from the yacht than the Italian captain reckoned on.
The warship lowered a boat. Something went wrong with the gear, the after block jammed, the boat fell and dangled from her davits bows first, and an officer and half a dozen men were thrown into the sea. They were soon rescued, but the mishap did not tend to sweeten the temper of theCigno'scommander. A dry officer and crew were requisitioned, and the boat was pulled alongside the yacht.
Stump, with a malicious grin on his face, leaned over the starboard rail.
"Wot is it?" he demanded. "Have you lost yer bearin's?"
The officer replied in Italian, greatly to Stump's disgust.
"I s'pose the chap they chucked overboard was the on'y Dago among 'em who could speak English," he grunted, but Mrs. Haxton explained that the officer was asking for the gangway to be lowered. Stump nodded to a couple of sailors, and the ladder dropped so smartly that the boat nearly came to grief a second time.
The officer bowed very politely when he reached the deck. Probably he was surprised to find himself in the presence of two such beautiful women. Though Irene spoke Italian, Mrs. Haxton took on herself the role of interpreter. TheCignocarried two letters from the Governor of Massowah, she said. One was addressed to Signor Fenshawe, the other to the signor captain of the British yachtAphrodite. Would the two gentlemen kindly read and acknowledge receipt of the Governor's epistles?
Both were purely formal documents. They set forth the official demand that theAphroditeshould not attempt to land any of her occupants on Italian territory at other than a recognized port, and warned her owner and commander that theCignowould enforce observance of the request.
At first, Mr. Fenshawe refused angrily to give a written reply, but vonKerber prevailed on him, and he wrote:
"Mr. Hiram Fenshawe begs to inform the Governor of Erythrea that his prohibition of the landing of a British scientific expedition in the colony he rules is arbitrary and unwarranted. Mr. Hiram Fenshawe is further of opinion that the said prohibition is part of the lawless treatment to which he and other members of the yacht's company were subjected during their visit to the 'recognized port' of Massowah. Finally, Mr. Hiram Fenshawe intends to lay the whole matter before the British Foreign Office."
This stiff-necked answer showed clearly that the writer was still on von Kerber's side, no matter what revelations were contained in the letter from London which Royson knew of. Irene copied the note for her grandfather. She made no comment. Perhaps her own island blood was a-boil at the cavalier tone of the Governor's threat.
Stump's letter was characteristic. It ran:
S. Y. Aphrodite,
Lat. 15° 10' N., Long. 41° 15' E,
SIR—Yours at hand. Will act as think fit.
Yours truly,
JOHN STUMP, Master
The disagreeable part of this business ended, the Italian officer conveyed the compliments of the Cigno's commander, and, on his behalf, invited Signor Fenshawe and the two ladies to luncheon. Mr. Fenshawe stiffly declined, on the plea that he did not wish to interrupt the voyage, and the envoy went back to his ship.
TheAphroditeswung round into the wind, dipped her ensign, and was soon bowling along at her usual rate. TheCignostood away for the coast, but, as the day wore, it was palpable that she did not mean to part company with the yacht until the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb were passed.
About four o'clock the wind dropped and the engines were called on. With the night the wind rose again but veered to the south. TheCigno'slights were clearly visible at about three miles' distance. Her white masthead light watched the Aphrodite without blinking, while her red and green eyes suggested to Irene's fancy some fabled monster of the deep waiting to pounce on the yacht if she deviated an inch from her seaward course.
The girl snatched a few minutes' talk with Royson. Von Kerber, it seemed, had persuaded her grandfather that Alfieri was the paid agent of rival archeologists who had got wind of the Sabaean hoard, and were able to secure the help of the Italian Government. She was convinced that the ill treatment meted out to them at Massowah had only confirmed the old gentleman's determination to best his opponents at all costs. The burking of his cablegrams, made known by the Baron, was the last straw in an aggravated load. The yacht was going to Aden to enable him to lodge a complaint with the proper authorities, but she would leave almost at once for French—Somaliland, where akafilawould be collected and a dash made across the Italian frontier. And Dick gathered that Irene herself was inclined to let affairs run their natural course. He agreed with her, which was to be expected, seeing that he was four-and twenty, and in love. He cudgeled his brains for some pretext to discuss rings and the manner of wearing them, but his wit failed him there. Irene on the deck of her grandfather's yacht differed in several important particulars from the tremulous girl who clung to him during that blissful journey of the previous night.
He tried to clear up this vital point with Tagg.
"Did you ever give a young lady an engagement ring?" he asked, after judiciously leading his chief to discourse on the frailties of the sex.
"Well," said Tagg reflectively, "it all depen's on the way you take' it. I once gev' a girl a Mizpah ring, which fancied, when she saw'r it in a pawnshop window. Next time I met her she tole me she'd swopped it for a dress improver. The feller she was goin' to marry didn't like the motter as comin' from me, you see, but the funny thing was she never said a word about him when she saw'r me buyin' the ring. Since then, I've kep' me money in me pocket."
Royson took the morning watch, from 4 A.M. till 8. Stump joined him soon after dawn, and appeared to be anxious about the yacht's exact position. So far as Dick could judge from the chart, they were in safe waters; nevertheless, the stout skipper did not rest content until the tall peak of Jebel Aduali opened up clear of Jebel Ash Ali, with Sanahbor Island bearing west.
A lighthouse on the mainland flashed a bright ray at them before the rising sun rendered its warning unnecessary. Still dogging them, theCignofollowed in their wake at half speed, but Stump gave no eye to the warship. He continued to scan the coast intently. A low, double-peaked hill intervened between the lofty Jebel Aduali and the ship. When its saddle cut the summit of the more distant mountain, Stump changed the course sharply.
To Royson's surprise, the yacht turned due west, and headed for the point whence the lighthouse had gleamed half an hour earlier.
And now, instead of looking ahead, Stump kept his telescope glued on theCigno. A cloud of smoke from the gunboat's funnels showed that she had noted theAphrodite'snew direction, and meant to take a close interest in it. She had a few miles to make up, but that was a simple matter, and her nose swung to the southwest as she raced for the bay towards which the yacht was steaming.
Both vessels held on, following converging lines, for nearly an hour. By that time they were hardly a mile apart. Suddenly Stump sent theAphroditeround until she lay on her previous course. In a word, after standing in for the land in the most decided manner, he was now making for the Straits again.
This behavior apparently puzzled the Italian vessel, as, indeed, it succeeded in puzzling Royson and the man at the wheel, while the looks cast towards the bridge by the watch, who were mainly employed In swabbing the deck, told that the men were commenting on the yacht's erratic wanderings.
All at once the blare of a siren came faintly over the shimmering sea, and Stump chuckled triumphantly.
"He's found it," he roared, his voice almost rivaling the hoarseness of the far-off foghorn. "Sink me If that Dago wasn't so taken up with pipin' my antics that he's gone an' done it!"
"Done what, sir?" asked Dick, seeing that his respected skipper was in hilarious mood.
"Run his bloomin'Cignoonto the Scilla Shoal. Damme, I thought he'd do it. Listen to him," for another wail reached them from the disconsolate warship. "He's fixed there as though, he was glued to it. He'll have to jettison all his bunker an' a gun or two afore he gets off. They tell meCignomeans 'swan.' I wonder wot's the I-talian for 'goose.' Go an' tell Tagg. Tell him to tumble up quick, if on'y for the sake of ole times."
Royson aroused the chief, and gave him the skipper's message. Tagg, rubbing his eyes, came on deck. He looked at theCigno, heard her dismal trumpeting, and slowly took, in the surroundings.
"Well, s'elp me!" he grinned. "Sorry to rake cold ashes, cap'n, but isn't that where you piled up the Ocean Queen?"
"Don't I know it!" growled' Stump, "One solid month, we stuck there, didn't we, Tagg? Threw over-board two thousand tons o' best Cardiff, an' then had to be hauled off by another tramp. Well, good-by, Swan! I'll report you at Perim. An' mind you take care o' them letters. It 'ud be a pity if the Governor didn't 'ave 'em in time. By gad, I never thought I'd owe theOcean Queena good turn. She lost me my berth, an' nearly cost me my ticket, but she's made it up to-day. Come on, Tagg, we'll have a tot o' rum an' drink to the rotten ole hulk which gev' us best ag'in that swaggerin' I-talian. My godfather, won't Becky be pleased when she hears of it!"
And the two dived below to partake of the generous spirit which pays homage to the rising sun, while theCignobleated her distress to deaf ears.
"There is a spice of the nomad in all of us," said Irene, pulling up her hardy Somali pony and allowing him to graze on some prickly plant from which a grass-fed animal would have turned in hungry disgust.
"Here am I, quite new to desert life, enjoying it to the full. Perhaps my remote ancestors were gipsies. Do I look like a gipsy, Mr. Royson?"
"My acquaintance with gipsies is limited," said Dick. "Once, being free from office troubles on Derby Day, I walked over Epsom Downs, and was beseeched many times to have my fortune told. Most of the prophetesses—they were all of your sex, Miss Fenshawe—were blessed with exceedingly fine complexions and beautiful eyes. If these are marked features of the gipsy tribe—"
"Don't you dare bring me out here in order to pay compliments."
"Indeed, I am but stating the bare truth to your face."
"If you persist, then, I shall be compelled to act the part of a gipsy and tell your fortune, and I warn you that it will not be very cheerful hearing."
Royson gazed beyond her towards a white mist which shrouded the eastern horizon. Overhead, the delicious blue of early morning was yielding to the noonday tint of molten copper.
"Even if we turn back to-day there are thirty marches between us and the sea," he said with seeming irrelevance.
But those two were beginning to understand one another, and the girl colored under the deep tan of sun and air.
"Whenever we are alone now you insist on talking nonsense," she said. "I really believe the desert has made you light-headed. Please be serious for a moment. I brought you here to—"
"I am glad you have corrected yourself. A moment ago you charged me with bringingyouhere."
"Well, then, we came here, if one must be so accurate, to be away from the others. At least, I mean—Well, that is a stupid way of putting it, but it will serve—"
"It has served most admirably," said Royson, glancing back at the long drawn-out caravan crossing the shallow valley they had just quitted.
"There you go again," she cried, with just a touch of petulance in her tone. "You know very well that I did not mean what I said."
"Not even when you promised to tell my fortune."
"I can explain myself that way if you like. Your fortune is singularly like my own at the present moment. You are accompanying a crowd of people who don't know where they are going, or what they mean to do when they get there. I am quite sure the Baron is befogged, or, if that is not a happy expression in this wonderful atmosphere, shall I say lost? I don't speak Arabic, but I can read that man's face, and I watched him this morning when he was consulting our so-called guide. In plain English, Mr. Royson, we are drifting, in the vain hope that somewhere out there we shall find five hills in a clump. I don't object, in a sense. It is a very delightful picnic from one point of view. But I hate uncertainty, and I loathe deceit, and here we are at the mercy of both, while my grandfather is so taken up with the joy of arranging everything, which von Kerber very cleverly leaves to him, that he simply won't listen to me when I suggest the need of more definite information. And just think of it! Five Hills! With a rocky desert in front and five thousand hills to the left. What is to be the end of it all? Are we to go wandering on till we march into Suez, or Cairo?"
"Our sheikh is a marvel at finding oases," said Dick. "I wonder if there is a string of them all the way between here and—"
"Mr. Royson," broke in Irene, "you are the only person' to whom I can confide my doubts and fears. They may be silly, but please don't adopt that tone. It—hurts."
Royson, who had dismounted, slipped his Arab's bridle under an arm and strode a pace nearer.
"Don't you see that we can do nothing at present?" he said earnestly. "I am alive to the difficulties which may beset us in the near future; but what would you have me do, Miss Fenshawe? If your grandfather were not of the party, I know exactly what I would propose—at least, I think I know."
"And that is?"
"That Stump and some of our men should escort you and Mrs. Haxton back to Pajura, and let our Austrian friend ride his hobby to death. And believe me, I am not consulting my own wishes in saying that."
"Don't you wish to return?"
"No. I love this arid land. I never see the supercilious curl of a camel's lip or meet the bland contempt of his eye but I imagine him saying, 'Ah, Feringhi, were it not for your white skin I might whisper strange secrets into your ear, but you are an unbelieving dog, so perforce I remain dumb.' Hence, Miss Fenshawe, inclination pulls one way and common sense the other. As matters stand, I plead guilty to a profound gladness that common sense has not swayed us to-day, and may escape us to-morrow. Candidly, I am enjoying myself immensely."
"Then there is nothing more to be said," cried Irene, yielding somewhat to his buoyancy. "Shall we go on, or wait here for thekafilato overtake us."
"Unless I am greatly mistaken," said Dick, looking at his watch, "we shall find the usual oasis hidden in a depression about two miles ahead. Our excellent sheikh, Abdur Kad'r, times the morning march to end precisely at ten o'clock. It is now a quarter to nine. Our camels march two and a half miles per hour, and we are three quarters of a mile ahead. Therein, Miss Fenshawe, yea have a first-rate example of deductive reasoning, so I propose that we advance steadily, and look for a cluster of palms. If, happily, their shade is not taken up by other wanderers, you will be out of the sun long before the caravan arrives. What say you?"
"Some day I shall stamp my foot and say 'No'—shriek it at you, in fact. I hate any one who is always right, and you seem to be utterly different since we left theAphrodite. I have never seen such a change in a man. One would think you were born in the desert. And you are learning Arabic ten times more quickly than I."
"I do not find favor in your eyes this morning, though it is good to know that I have reformed, since, by your own showing, I must have been always wrong aboard ship," said Dick, remounting.
"Oh, it is a perfect luxury to have some one to pitch into," cried the girl, stirring the Somali with her heel.
"But won't you tell me what I have done that vexes you, Miss Fenshawe?"
"You are absurd. You pretend that you see nothing, whereas I am sure you see more than I, but you refuse to speak."
Royson seemed to be singularly unaffected by this outburst. He caught the angry flush on the girl's forehead, and, as was his way when the stubborn fit seized him, threw his head back, with lips set. Irene stole a look at him, and laughed constrainedly.
"Very well. If you won't talk I must," she said with a great air of determination. "It is about Mrs. Haxton."
"A most interesting topic," said Royson.
"That is what my grandfather seems to think."
"He told me last night that he considers her a singularly well-informed woman."
"For well-informed read artful," exclaimed the girl bitterly. "Have you forgotten what I said to you in the canal? When we began our voyage Mrs. Haxton and the Baron were as good as engaged. Now they have reached some agreement which permits Mrs. Haxton to fly for higher matrimonial game than a penniless adventurer."
"Do you really think that?"
Royson had grown suddenly serious. He half turned in the saddle so as to seek the added inspiration of Irene's expression, but she kept her eyes studiously averted, and the broad-brimmed pith hat she wore helped to conceal her face. But she answered readily.
"I am quite certain of it. How else could I discuss it with you?"
"The view I take is that she merely wishes to give von Kerber every chance. So long as Mr. Fenshawe remains interested—beguiled, if you like—she switches his thoughts away from the object of our journey. Your grandfather is a masterful man, Miss Fenshawe. If he suspected that we were following a wild-goose chase he would turn south again this very hour."
"Yet I am sure of my ground," she persisted.
Royson's horse started and shied. A small brown snake, coiled up in the sunlight, and almost invisible amidst the stones, squirmed rapidly into a crevice beneath a rock. Such incidents in the desert were too frequent to demand comment. Dick patted the Arab's neck and soon soothed him.
"Failing our discovery of this fabled treasure, I can appreciate Mrs.Haxton's willingness to many a millionaire," he went on. "Yet there aredifficulties in the way. That viper reminds me of one. Would not vonKerber object?"
"No," said Irene.
They jogged along in silence for some distance. The girl added nothing, to her emphatic monosyllable. Dick felt a tugging at his heart-strings which was becoming a dangerously frequent symptom.
"As you have favored me with your confidence thus far, won't you take the next step, and tell me why you credit Baron von Kerber with such complaisance?" he demanded.
"A woman should not always be asked for reasons, Mr. Royson," said she lightly.
"In the graver events of life one wishes for them, nevertheless."
"Perhaps we are deviating from the chief issue," she countered. "If only I could persuade grandad that he is being wilfully misled, things might go as I wish. Can't you help, Mr. Royson?"
Then she turned her face to his, and the temptation that had gripped him many a time of late came back with an intensity that was almost unendurable. He did not flinch from her steadfast eyes. Though the path of honor was steep and straight he must tread it to the end.
"If I tell your grandfather what little I know of these people I break my word," he said harshly. "That is the only reply I can make, Miss Fenshawe. May I add the ignoble argument that any such breach of faith on my part would probably be useless? You ought to sympathize with me."
"Why?" she said coldly.
"Because it is not often that a man is tortured as I am by a conflict between duty and—and desire."
"There is our palm grove," she cried, pointing to a few stunted trees whose fronds showed above the rock-strewn bank of a small wady, or ravine, which cut through the center of the shelving plateau they were crossing. "The ground is fairly clear here. Shall we try a canter?"
Without waiting for a reply she pressed her pony into a steady gallop. Royson responded to her wayward mood, and followed her lead. Though the sun was so hot that their hands would have blistered if unprotected by gloves, the clean, dry air-current created by the rapid motion was exhilarating in the extreme. They were riding through a lost continent, yet its savage ruin was sublimely beautiful. The comparatively level spot that allowed the luxury of a gallop was made up of sand and stones, with here and there a black rock thrusting its bold contour above the shingle. A curiously habitable aspect was given to the desert by numbers of irregular alluvial mounds which, on examination, were found to consist of caked soil held together by the roots of trees. So, at one time, this arid plain had borne a forest. To the mind's eye, here lay the dead earth's burial-place.
Ages ago a torrent had fertilized the surrounding tract, and its dried-up bed was marked by water-smoothed boulders. Here and there, small groups of dwarf bushes, covered with dagger-like thorns, drew sustenance from secret rills of moisture. The camel path they followed had the distinctness of daily use, though no recognizedkafilahad passed that way during the previous year, new trade routes to the interior having drawn the caravans in other directions. Soon it turned up the side of the ravine. Thesayallbushes began to grow more densely, and the wady spread to a great width. Beyond a patch of pebbles lay a brown carpet of tough grass. In the center stood seven date-trees and a considerable number of stunted bushes, these latter differing from thesayallonly in the size of their thorns, which were fully two inches long and seemingly untouchable. Yet, next to water, the thorn-crop constituted the chief wealth of the oasis, because camels would munch the tough spines with great relish.
The camping-place appeared to be untenanted. Royson found the footprints of gazelles wherever the sand had collected in a hollow, but the animals must have scampered away unseen towards the barren hills near at hand. Through an occasional gap there were glimpses of the mighty ramparts of Abyssinia. It was hard to realize that the dainty gazelle could find food in this desolate land. Yet, with the inborn instinct of the hunter and scout, Royson unslung his carbine and held it across the saddle-bow as he urged his horse slightly in front of the short-striding Somali. When he drew rein he rose in the stirrups to peer through the barrier of thorns.
"First come, first served," he cried joyously. "We have the forage to ourselves, Miss Fenshawe. I shall be sorry for any others who come this way after our host has passed. Look at it now. It is an absolute army. We shall strip this poor little garden of the desert as locusts are said to eat up a cornfield."
Irene slipped from the saddle, loosened the girths, and then glanced at the distant caravan, which had just become visible again on the sky-line of the plateau. It was more than likely that no such mixed gathering of men and animals had taken that road since the destruction of forests converted the country into a wilderness. The party from the yacht numbered eighteen; there were fifty Bedawi Arabs in attendance on a hundred camels; eight horses, Arabs or Somali ponies, each required a syce, while the sheikh who had brought the caravan from Pajura was overlord of a score of hangers-on who figured in his list as servants.
A thin haze of dust rose as this regiment advanced. In that wonderful light its progress might be marked twenty miles away by keen eyes. The girl watched it silently for a time, while Royson, knowing the manner in which the camp would be formed, picketed the two horses so as not to interfere with the general arrangements.
Then he lit a cigarette and rejoined Irene.
"How far distant is the head of the caravan now?" she asked.
"Nearly two miles. It looks more like two furlongs," said he, divining her thought, for it was easy to discern Mrs. Haxton, wrapped in a gray dust-cloak, on a splendid riding camel in advance of the main body; beside her, on Arab horses, were Mr. Fenshawe and von Kerber, the latter having just ridden up from the rear.
"Does one's sight become better, then, by residence in this strange land?" murmured the girl.
Royson deliberately ignored the less obvious significance of the words.