Chapter Forty.The Key to the Mystery.Onward we went across the camel market, where a body of the Ennitra were carousing, and, having managed to escape their notice in the deep shadow, we hurriedly traversed several irregularly-built streets, wherein corpses lay thickly, mute witnesses of the frightful massacre; then suddenly we plunged into a narrow, tortuous passage that I remembered I had sped along in my wild scamper for life after fleeing from my taskmasters. The further we went, the nearer we approached the houses that were burning unchecked like veritable furnaces, and as we rounded a bend in the narrow, alley-like thoroughfare, where was situated the well called Shedwánka, and came into full view of the great fire, my guide gave vent to an ejaculation of dismay.“Behold!” he cried excitedly. “The flames! They are spreading rapidly, and will consume that upon which thine eyes must rest. Let us hasten with all speed!”This portion of the city seemed deserted, therefore we dashed forward with one accord, theimam’snimbleness of foot surprising me. It was well that none of Hadj Absalam’s cut-throats detected us, otherwise my guide would no doubt have fallen a victim to their ever-increasing bloodthirstiness. No one had been spared. The whole city had been mercilessly swept with fire and sword.As we drew nearer, we could see plainly that the great conflagration was spreading in our direction, for the heat and smoke stifled us, and great sparks fell in showers around. Suddenly, however, he halted before the arched door of an ancient house, towards which the flames were rapidly darting. Indeed, only two houses remained uninjured between us and the blazing, roaring mass, and already they were being licked by great tongues of fire.“Though dangers beset thee, O Roumi, let not fear dwell within thee,” my aged companion said, taking a key from the inner pocket of his gandoura and quickly unlocking the heavy door. “Know, O wanderer from beyond seas, thou now goest in with me unto the bower of Al Barzakh, the Presence-chamber of the Marvellous, whence those who enter issue forth changed men!”“Changed?” I cried, amazed. “Shall I also be changed?”“A transformation, strange but invisible, is wrought in all who enter here,” he croaked, as, breathless and excited, with eyes smarting under the choking volumes of smoke, I stumbled onward after him. Closing the door quickly, he sped across the open patio, into which pieces of ignited wood were falling thickly, and entered another door the arch of which was supported by handsome twisted columns of marble. Through two small apartments, hung with beautiful hangings and furnished with luxurious divans, we passed, until he halted at a door which sprang open at his touch. Evidently it opened by means of a spring, but I sought not explanation, for I held my breath, wondering into what strange chamber I was about to enter. With mumbled words, as he fingered his rosary, Mohammed ben Ishak advanced slowly into the darkness, where a single light in a globe of cut crystal glimmered without illuminating the objects around. As we stepped inside, and the door closed after us automatically, there was a loud, vicious hiss close to me.I halted, startled, for I knew the sound was that of a serpent, and I feared to tread, lest its deadly fangs should be fastened in my feet.The oldimam, droning a strange incantatory chant, advanced to the altar upon which the light was burning, and, turning the wick higher, so that it shed a brighter light, raised both hands piously and called aloud for forgiveness.Glancing about me in amazement, I found that my surroundings, weird and extraordinary, were almost an exact reproduction of the mysterious subterranean temple to which Zoraida had conducted me in Algiers! The black carpet and hangings reminded me vividly of European funeral palls, while the curious open-work screen, the inlaidkursy, or table, of arabesque filigree, and, most remarkable of all, the stone sarcophagus, were all of exactly the same design as those in the mysterious chamber wherein the Crescent of Glorious Wonders had been first revealed unto me.Amazed, I stood with transfixed gaze and bated breath. There were movements on the carpet, and I became aware of the unpleasant proximity of several snakes. Some coiled themselves and raised their heads, holding them immovable, with their tiny, bead-like eyes riveted upon us, while others darted away, holding themselves on the defensive in darker corners.A few seconds of silence, and Mohammed ben Ishak turned to me, with hands still uplifted, asking—“Believest thou that unto Allah belong the hosts of heaven and earth; that Allah is mighty and wise; that unto those who obey the Everlasting Will He showeth mercy?”“I do,” I answered.“Speak not with thy tongue that which is not in thine heart, for of a surety they who believe not will be chastised with a severe chastisement,” he exclaimed solemnly. Then again facing the altar, he cried, “Whoso believeth not in the One Allah and in Mohammed his Prophet, verily shall he be cast into the fire prepared for the unbelievers; but whosoever shall perform that which he hath covenanted, so surely shall he receive great reward, and be admitted to the gardens beneath which rivers flow, to dwell therein for ever. Verily hath a Sura been revealed commanding war against the Workers of Iniquity, and they look towards us with the look of those whom death overshadoweth. Those are they whom Allah hath cursed and hath rendered deaf, and whose eyes He hath blinded. Assuredly have we armed ourselves with an armour invulnerable, and we await the word from the Holy City to rise in our might and sweep from earth the Infidels, in obedience to the law that is written. In that day will the Senousya, whose teeth are as spears, and whose tongues are as sharp swords, fight valiantly and persevere with constancy, for they are the True Believers, who will, ere many moons, rejoice with a great rejoicing.”He paused, prostrating himself, devoutly gabbling a two-bow prayer with many quotations from the Korân, at the same time swaying himself backwards and forwards, throwing his head energetically to and fro till the perspiration streamed down his face. In his paroxysm of religious fervour, he suddenly grasped a serpent and wound it around his head in such a manner that it remained there with its flat head reared in front in the place where an aigrette might have been. Then he arose, and, with the snake still coiled upon him, advanced and held my hands. Instinctively I drew back, for the energy of his devotions had wrought in him a hideous transformation. His cheeks were more sunken, his face seemed but a skull covered by brown, wrinkled skin, and from his wild, wide-open eyes there flashed the terrible fire. With his glittering orbs upon mine, he held me in a grip of steel. Under his searching gaze I flinched, and tried to extricate my hands, but he had pinned me powerless, and so strange was his demeanour that I grew alarmed. He seemed possessed of demon strength; in his hands I was helpless as a child.I was an Infidel, and he a religious fanatic. Might not this sudden fit of uncontrollablediableriecause him to kill me?The fiery eyes had fixed themselves searchingly upon me in a manner that seemed to fascinate and draw me closer towards him, causing my strength to fail, and inducing a feeling of languor and helplessness. Setting my teeth, I struggled against it, and, remembering we were in a house that in a few minutes must fall a prey to the flames, demanded release.But he took no heed. Crying aloud his intentions of leading the Ghuzzat in a merciless campaign against the Infidel invaders, and predicting that the soldiers of the Faith would obtain great spoils, he suddenly released my left hand, but still kept his grip upon the right.“Thou desirest to learn the Great Secret,” he exclaimed. “Thou, the beloved of our Queen of Beauty, art the only person to whom the strange wonders may be revealed. Verily I say unto thee, thou must fight a great fight in regions unknown, exerting a power that I will impart to thee, the secret whereof none can discover.”His eyes seemed to dilate and glow like live coals, while the pain at first caused by the steady pressure upon my wrist was succeeded by a strange tingling sensation, rather pleasant than otherwise. Held in fascination by his glance, every nerve was strained to its utmost tension; then gradually I seemed to sink into a dreamy half-consciousness. With all the self-control I possessed, I strove against the curious delirium into which I was slowly lapsing, but without avail. He held my hand, and with his glaring eyes riveted to mine he seemed gradually to bring me under his thrall by some irresistible magnetic influence. Mingled sensations of delight and repugnance such as I had never before experienced ran through me, and I seemed seized by an indescribable horror of being compelled to perform deeds that in my inner consciousness I regarded as crimes. I felt myself in a state of mind that permitted the creation of hallucinations, for rapidly I saw the weird objects around me distorted into grotesque shapes, sometimes ludicrous, sometimes horrible, with the ever-changing face of Mohammed ben Ishak always the central figure. My limbs felt limp, and I had an inaptitude for any spontaneous action. I was fully conscious of all this, and the inertia alarmed me.“Verily shalt thou know the Truth that hath so long remained hidden. Thou shalt save the woman thou lovest and who loveth thee so passionately. Behold!” he cried in a loud voice. “Hearken, and likewise let thine eyes bear witness!” and, releasing me, he stepped back to the altar, and, taking a pinch of some white powder, he cast it into the flame of the lamp. Instantly the place was filled by a brilliant light, followed by pungent, suffocating fumes. Then, having repeated this action three times, he drew forth the Wonderful Crescent from his girdle and placed it upon the altar, bowing low in silence.The strange feeling of half-consciousness faded quickly, and in a few moments I had quite regained my normal state of mind. All had been, I felt convinced, due to over-excitement, combined with the weakness induced by the wound from which I had not yet completely recovered.“Miserable shall be the abode of the proud!” cried the aged reciter of the daily prayers. “Verily, the Day of the Great Wrath is at hand, when the unbelievers who dwell in darkness shall be driven before the troops of the Senousya. The world shall become paralysed by the awful slaughter of the Christians, who will be cast into hell, therein to dwell for ever. It is written that excellent is the reward of those who work righteousness, and turn not aside from the right path. To Thee who alone canst direct us unto the Behishst of Delights we make supplication, and ask of Thee Thine aid.”Impatiently I awaited the conclusion of his curious prayers, rites, and ceremonies. He seemed to have forgotten the imminent peril in which the house was placed, as with his string of black beads between his skinny fingers, he murmured prayer after prayer, expressing at every breath fervent hope that I might turn from the ways of the Infidels and embrace the Faith.With a long, final appeal for forgiveness for bestowing the key to the Great Secret upon one who had not been initiated into the mysteries of the Senousya, he turned slowly, and, walking towards the tomb of carved stone, commanded, “Come hither.”As I obeyed, he raised the heavy lid with his hands and cast it aside. Then, peering in, I saw a body. I recognised the face. It was the same man who had been so strangely resuscitated by Zoraida!Her actions in stabbing the body were repeated by the oldimamwith almost identical sequence, and at length, in response to Mohammed ben Ishak’s command, he rose slowly from his tomb, and, stepping forth in his white grave-clothes, advanced in silence to the altar. Taking up two asps that squirmed and writhed under his touch, he knotted them together, heedless of their vicious bites. As he placed them upon the slab of hewn jade that formed the altar, my companion uttered some incantation which was to me unintelligible, and then a few seconds later the ghastly visitant who had risen from the tomb took up the Crescent and with it smote the serpents as they lay. The single blow killed them.“Assuredly as theaf’áare in an instant struck dead, so also will the Senousya smite the Infidels and sweep away all evil from our land,” Mohammed ben Ishak cried, his voice growing deeper. In the short pause that followed, the weird figure at the altar placed the Crescent upon a great perfuming-pan of gold, afterwards lighting the small brazier of wrought silver beneath. Again my companion, theimam, droned his guttural chant, while the white-robed figure, whose back was always turned towards me, sank upon his knees and remained statuesque and motionless.“Bear witness, O Roumi,” cried the aged official of the mosque. “Earnestly I seek permission to impart unto thee that knowledge which thou seekest;” and, taking from a niche in the wall a great golden goblet, filled to the brim with water, he placed it upon the little inlaid table in the centre of the sanctuary. Advancing to the altar, he took from it the crystal lamp and held it over the goblet. In his hand was a lump of yellow wax, and, uttering an incantation in a language unknown to me, save that the wordsabarkan(black),adhu(wind), andthamat’t’uth(woman), I distinguished as being in the Kabyle tongue, he presently melted the wax in the flame, and allowed the liquid drops to fall into the water. Breathless, and with eager eyes, he gazed into the bright goblet, watching each drop as it fell and hardened, until suddenly his contenance relaxed, and he ejaculated—“Yes! Thou mayest know! The key to the Great Mystery may now be given into thy keeping.”Casting the wax down, he replaced the lamp, for the ceremony was over. By the formation of the drops in the water, he had become convinced that he might, without harm accruing, divulge the secret locked in his heart. On putting the lamp back into its place, he took from the altar a crystal mirror, about a foot square, in a broad frame of solid gold, delicately chased. Placing it in my hands, he said—“Breathe upon this; then tell me what thou seest.”I dimmed the surface with my breath, as he had commanded, and, lo! in an instant there appeared a picture that entranced me.“What seest thou?” he inquired.“There is revealed unto me a landscape, strange and weird,” I answered. “By what magic is this effect produced?”“Describe what is therein revealed,” he urged.“I see the Desert at sunset,” I said. “The sky is ablaze, and against it there riseth from the sea of burning sand a single mountain, shaped like a camel’s hump. It is far distant, and growing purple in the evening hour, but I can distinguish upon its summit three giant palms. In its side there is apparently a cave.”“And in the foreground?”“There is a single traveller. He is an old man, who hath fallen from his horse, and while one hand clutcheth at his throat, the other is outstretched towards the mountain. He is in pain,” I added; “apparently he is dying of thirst, for birds of prey hover about him, and his eyes have in them the glitter of madness. The picture is beautiful, yet terrible!”“Good!” he said. “It is finished!” and taking the mirror from me, he returned it to its place. The illusion puzzled me, yet he would not allow me to investigate. At that moment, however, I became aware that the place was filling with a dense smoke, and from beyond the closed door there came a noise as of the roaring and crackling of flames.The house in which we were was already on fire!Pointing out the fact to him in alarm, I urged him to tell me at once how to use the Crescent; but he heeded not my words, so absorbed was he, bowing before the mysterious tenant of the grave in pious devotions.“Tell me,” I cried. “For Zoraida’s sake, withhold not from me the Secret which thou hast promised, so that I may save her!”The flames had burst through some panelling behind the altar, and the place was filled with sparks and dense smoke. Just at that instant the statuesque figure turned, raising its hand wildly. For a moment a gleaming knife trembled aloft in the dull glare of the flames, and next second it was buried deep in the breast of Mohammed ben Ishak!I shrieked, but my companion only laughed a mocking, hideous laugh, and, reeling slightly, stood contemplating the approaching flames quite calmly. The shock seemed to have paralysed him.“Come, let us fly!” I urged, dashing wildly across to save him. “See, the door is still intact! There is yet time!”Turning upon me fiercely, he shook me off. It was a terrible moment. I stood transfixed by horror.“No,” he cried, with a strange light in his eyes. “It—it is the blood revenge, the swift vengeance that I dreaded, the punishment I deserve for my sin against the Brotherhood—I—I am a traitor—but I fear not to die—I go—through fire—to the cool waters of Tasnîm!”“Surely thou wilt not seek thine own destruction, and take thy Secret with thee?” I gasped.He remained silent; he did not even turn towards the man who had struck the fatal blow. The flames were roaring, and the heat had become so intense that the perspiration in big drops rolled from my face.“Speak!” I shrieked. “For the sake of the woman whose young life dependeth upon thy word! Be merciful unto her! Tell me what to do!”But, with a hoarse, defiant laugh, he folded his arms, saying, “I refuse!”“By Heaven!” I burst out, in sudden anger, “this is no time for dallying words. If thou wilt not, then may the curse of the Daughter of the Sun, whose life thou sacrificest, hang upon thy neck, heavy as a millstone, and may it drag thee down to the place that is prepared for evil doers.”The effect of my words was electrical.“No! No!” he cried, evidently in as deadly fear of the imprecations of Zoraida as the Ennitra had been. “No! I—I have reconsidered!” he gasped.As the words left his lips, I saw that the flames had ignited the flowing robes of the man from the tomb, and though he rushed about in paroxysms of intense pain, and at last fell, unconscious, he uttered not a sound! Swiftly, indeed, was he punished for his crime.“Tell me, quickly!” I cried aloud. “In another moment we shall both be lost. Fly! Let me assist thee. Even now we can escape!” and as I spoke, a tongue of fire singed my hair and burned my eyebrows.“No!” he shrieked, his voice sounding shrill above the dull roar, as his eyes rolled wildly. Undoubtedly a terrible madness had seized him, and so vigorously did he threaten, rave, and curse, that I felt half inclined to make a desperate dash for life through the door by which we had entered.Again I clutched him, frantically appealing to him to tell me the secret, and as I did so, the flames leaped past us, and we were both half suffocated by the smoke. Fortunately, I possessed sufficient presence of mind to snatch up the Crescent, and, regardless of the manner in which it blistered my fingers, I wrapped it in my burnouse, crying—“Impart unto me the Great Secret, I beseech thee! Quickly!”Reeling, he staggered and fell. The mysterious vengeance of the Senousya had descended upon him, and the life-blood flowed from the ugly wound. In a moment I dropped upon my knees and supported his head, determined that he should not lapse into unconsciousness, and so carry with him to the grave the key to the extraordinary enigma.In desperation, I shrieked a final appeal to him to fulfil his pledge. Death stared us both in the face, for already had I become seized with a sudden faintness.It all occurred in a few brief moments.“Yes,” he gasped, wildly and with difficulty, at last. “I—I will save the beauteous Lalla Zoraida. She shall lead the Senousya into—into the holy war, as she hath done the Ennitra. In the great fight every Infidel shall be slain with sharp swords. Yes!—I will tell thee how thou canst save her. Travel with all speed over the Desert to the Oasis of Agram, in the country of the Kanouri, which lieth in the direction of the sunrise. Thence ride onward across the plain of Ndalada, past the town of Dibbela, until thou comest to the Well of Tjigrin, and when thou hast accomplished two days’ journey still due eastward from the latter place, past the ruins of a town, thou wilt find a single clump of palms. Then take the Crescent, and—”His thin lips moved, but no sound came from them. His eyes slowly closed! It was, indeed, a critical moment. My heart sank, for it seemed as though he was no longer aware of the things about him.“Speak!” I yelled in his ear. “What must I do with the Crescent?”His eyes opened, but they were dim. In their depths a film was gathering, as life fast ebbed. With a supreme effort, however, he raised his bony hand, pulling down my head until my ear was close against his mouth. Then, struggling to articulate, he whispered hoarsely, and with extreme difficulty—“Obey my injunctions strictly. Take the Crescent, and—and when thou hast arrived at the spot I have indicated—not before, or thou wilt never gain the Great Secret—place—it—upon—thy brow! Then—will—marvels—undreamed of—be revealed. Remember—attempt not to fathom the Mystery until—until thou hast passed the Well of Tjigrin two whole days! May—may Allah—preserve and guard thee, and may thy—”But his final blessing was never completed, for convulsions shook his frame, and he fell back heavily and breathed his last.Springing to my feet, I stood for a second. Flames seemed threatening me from every side, but, with a sudden desperate dash, I rushed, half blinded, towards the door, which at that moment was being licked by the darting fire. Then, opening it by raising a curious latch, I fled quickly through the two small apartments, now filled with smoke, out across the patio, finding myself in a few moments standing in the road fainting and unsteady, clutching at a wall for support.How I accomplished that flight for life I scarcely know. Panting, I stood, unable for a few moments to realise how near I had been to a horrible end. Though my clothes were brown and scorched, my arms blistered, and my hair and beard severely singed, I cared not. Zoraida’s future was now in my hands, for at last I had succeeded in obtaining the key by which the Great Mystery might be elucidated—at last I should know the Truth—at last the hidden Secret of the Crescent, the undreamed-of marvel, would be revealed to me!
Onward we went across the camel market, where a body of the Ennitra were carousing, and, having managed to escape their notice in the deep shadow, we hurriedly traversed several irregularly-built streets, wherein corpses lay thickly, mute witnesses of the frightful massacre; then suddenly we plunged into a narrow, tortuous passage that I remembered I had sped along in my wild scamper for life after fleeing from my taskmasters. The further we went, the nearer we approached the houses that were burning unchecked like veritable furnaces, and as we rounded a bend in the narrow, alley-like thoroughfare, where was situated the well called Shedwánka, and came into full view of the great fire, my guide gave vent to an ejaculation of dismay.
“Behold!” he cried excitedly. “The flames! They are spreading rapidly, and will consume that upon which thine eyes must rest. Let us hasten with all speed!”
This portion of the city seemed deserted, therefore we dashed forward with one accord, theimam’snimbleness of foot surprising me. It was well that none of Hadj Absalam’s cut-throats detected us, otherwise my guide would no doubt have fallen a victim to their ever-increasing bloodthirstiness. No one had been spared. The whole city had been mercilessly swept with fire and sword.
As we drew nearer, we could see plainly that the great conflagration was spreading in our direction, for the heat and smoke stifled us, and great sparks fell in showers around. Suddenly, however, he halted before the arched door of an ancient house, towards which the flames were rapidly darting. Indeed, only two houses remained uninjured between us and the blazing, roaring mass, and already they were being licked by great tongues of fire.
“Though dangers beset thee, O Roumi, let not fear dwell within thee,” my aged companion said, taking a key from the inner pocket of his gandoura and quickly unlocking the heavy door. “Know, O wanderer from beyond seas, thou now goest in with me unto the bower of Al Barzakh, the Presence-chamber of the Marvellous, whence those who enter issue forth changed men!”
“Changed?” I cried, amazed. “Shall I also be changed?”
“A transformation, strange but invisible, is wrought in all who enter here,” he croaked, as, breathless and excited, with eyes smarting under the choking volumes of smoke, I stumbled onward after him. Closing the door quickly, he sped across the open patio, into which pieces of ignited wood were falling thickly, and entered another door the arch of which was supported by handsome twisted columns of marble. Through two small apartments, hung with beautiful hangings and furnished with luxurious divans, we passed, until he halted at a door which sprang open at his touch. Evidently it opened by means of a spring, but I sought not explanation, for I held my breath, wondering into what strange chamber I was about to enter. With mumbled words, as he fingered his rosary, Mohammed ben Ishak advanced slowly into the darkness, where a single light in a globe of cut crystal glimmered without illuminating the objects around. As we stepped inside, and the door closed after us automatically, there was a loud, vicious hiss close to me.
I halted, startled, for I knew the sound was that of a serpent, and I feared to tread, lest its deadly fangs should be fastened in my feet.
The oldimam, droning a strange incantatory chant, advanced to the altar upon which the light was burning, and, turning the wick higher, so that it shed a brighter light, raised both hands piously and called aloud for forgiveness.
Glancing about me in amazement, I found that my surroundings, weird and extraordinary, were almost an exact reproduction of the mysterious subterranean temple to which Zoraida had conducted me in Algiers! The black carpet and hangings reminded me vividly of European funeral palls, while the curious open-work screen, the inlaidkursy, or table, of arabesque filigree, and, most remarkable of all, the stone sarcophagus, were all of exactly the same design as those in the mysterious chamber wherein the Crescent of Glorious Wonders had been first revealed unto me.
Amazed, I stood with transfixed gaze and bated breath. There were movements on the carpet, and I became aware of the unpleasant proximity of several snakes. Some coiled themselves and raised their heads, holding them immovable, with their tiny, bead-like eyes riveted upon us, while others darted away, holding themselves on the defensive in darker corners.
A few seconds of silence, and Mohammed ben Ishak turned to me, with hands still uplifted, asking—
“Believest thou that unto Allah belong the hosts of heaven and earth; that Allah is mighty and wise; that unto those who obey the Everlasting Will He showeth mercy?”
“I do,” I answered.
“Speak not with thy tongue that which is not in thine heart, for of a surety they who believe not will be chastised with a severe chastisement,” he exclaimed solemnly. Then again facing the altar, he cried, “Whoso believeth not in the One Allah and in Mohammed his Prophet, verily shall he be cast into the fire prepared for the unbelievers; but whosoever shall perform that which he hath covenanted, so surely shall he receive great reward, and be admitted to the gardens beneath which rivers flow, to dwell therein for ever. Verily hath a Sura been revealed commanding war against the Workers of Iniquity, and they look towards us with the look of those whom death overshadoweth. Those are they whom Allah hath cursed and hath rendered deaf, and whose eyes He hath blinded. Assuredly have we armed ourselves with an armour invulnerable, and we await the word from the Holy City to rise in our might and sweep from earth the Infidels, in obedience to the law that is written. In that day will the Senousya, whose teeth are as spears, and whose tongues are as sharp swords, fight valiantly and persevere with constancy, for they are the True Believers, who will, ere many moons, rejoice with a great rejoicing.”
He paused, prostrating himself, devoutly gabbling a two-bow prayer with many quotations from the Korân, at the same time swaying himself backwards and forwards, throwing his head energetically to and fro till the perspiration streamed down his face. In his paroxysm of religious fervour, he suddenly grasped a serpent and wound it around his head in such a manner that it remained there with its flat head reared in front in the place where an aigrette might have been. Then he arose, and, with the snake still coiled upon him, advanced and held my hands. Instinctively I drew back, for the energy of his devotions had wrought in him a hideous transformation. His cheeks were more sunken, his face seemed but a skull covered by brown, wrinkled skin, and from his wild, wide-open eyes there flashed the terrible fire. With his glittering orbs upon mine, he held me in a grip of steel. Under his searching gaze I flinched, and tried to extricate my hands, but he had pinned me powerless, and so strange was his demeanour that I grew alarmed. He seemed possessed of demon strength; in his hands I was helpless as a child.
I was an Infidel, and he a religious fanatic. Might not this sudden fit of uncontrollablediableriecause him to kill me?
The fiery eyes had fixed themselves searchingly upon me in a manner that seemed to fascinate and draw me closer towards him, causing my strength to fail, and inducing a feeling of languor and helplessness. Setting my teeth, I struggled against it, and, remembering we were in a house that in a few minutes must fall a prey to the flames, demanded release.
But he took no heed. Crying aloud his intentions of leading the Ghuzzat in a merciless campaign against the Infidel invaders, and predicting that the soldiers of the Faith would obtain great spoils, he suddenly released my left hand, but still kept his grip upon the right.
“Thou desirest to learn the Great Secret,” he exclaimed. “Thou, the beloved of our Queen of Beauty, art the only person to whom the strange wonders may be revealed. Verily I say unto thee, thou must fight a great fight in regions unknown, exerting a power that I will impart to thee, the secret whereof none can discover.”
His eyes seemed to dilate and glow like live coals, while the pain at first caused by the steady pressure upon my wrist was succeeded by a strange tingling sensation, rather pleasant than otherwise. Held in fascination by his glance, every nerve was strained to its utmost tension; then gradually I seemed to sink into a dreamy half-consciousness. With all the self-control I possessed, I strove against the curious delirium into which I was slowly lapsing, but without avail. He held my hand, and with his glaring eyes riveted to mine he seemed gradually to bring me under his thrall by some irresistible magnetic influence. Mingled sensations of delight and repugnance such as I had never before experienced ran through me, and I seemed seized by an indescribable horror of being compelled to perform deeds that in my inner consciousness I regarded as crimes. I felt myself in a state of mind that permitted the creation of hallucinations, for rapidly I saw the weird objects around me distorted into grotesque shapes, sometimes ludicrous, sometimes horrible, with the ever-changing face of Mohammed ben Ishak always the central figure. My limbs felt limp, and I had an inaptitude for any spontaneous action. I was fully conscious of all this, and the inertia alarmed me.
“Verily shalt thou know the Truth that hath so long remained hidden. Thou shalt save the woman thou lovest and who loveth thee so passionately. Behold!” he cried in a loud voice. “Hearken, and likewise let thine eyes bear witness!” and, releasing me, he stepped back to the altar, and, taking a pinch of some white powder, he cast it into the flame of the lamp. Instantly the place was filled by a brilliant light, followed by pungent, suffocating fumes. Then, having repeated this action three times, he drew forth the Wonderful Crescent from his girdle and placed it upon the altar, bowing low in silence.
The strange feeling of half-consciousness faded quickly, and in a few moments I had quite regained my normal state of mind. All had been, I felt convinced, due to over-excitement, combined with the weakness induced by the wound from which I had not yet completely recovered.
“Miserable shall be the abode of the proud!” cried the aged reciter of the daily prayers. “Verily, the Day of the Great Wrath is at hand, when the unbelievers who dwell in darkness shall be driven before the troops of the Senousya. The world shall become paralysed by the awful slaughter of the Christians, who will be cast into hell, therein to dwell for ever. It is written that excellent is the reward of those who work righteousness, and turn not aside from the right path. To Thee who alone canst direct us unto the Behishst of Delights we make supplication, and ask of Thee Thine aid.”
Impatiently I awaited the conclusion of his curious prayers, rites, and ceremonies. He seemed to have forgotten the imminent peril in which the house was placed, as with his string of black beads between his skinny fingers, he murmured prayer after prayer, expressing at every breath fervent hope that I might turn from the ways of the Infidels and embrace the Faith.
With a long, final appeal for forgiveness for bestowing the key to the Great Secret upon one who had not been initiated into the mysteries of the Senousya, he turned slowly, and, walking towards the tomb of carved stone, commanded, “Come hither.”
As I obeyed, he raised the heavy lid with his hands and cast it aside. Then, peering in, I saw a body. I recognised the face. It was the same man who had been so strangely resuscitated by Zoraida!
Her actions in stabbing the body were repeated by the oldimamwith almost identical sequence, and at length, in response to Mohammed ben Ishak’s command, he rose slowly from his tomb, and, stepping forth in his white grave-clothes, advanced in silence to the altar. Taking up two asps that squirmed and writhed under his touch, he knotted them together, heedless of their vicious bites. As he placed them upon the slab of hewn jade that formed the altar, my companion uttered some incantation which was to me unintelligible, and then a few seconds later the ghastly visitant who had risen from the tomb took up the Crescent and with it smote the serpents as they lay. The single blow killed them.
“Assuredly as theaf’áare in an instant struck dead, so also will the Senousya smite the Infidels and sweep away all evil from our land,” Mohammed ben Ishak cried, his voice growing deeper. In the short pause that followed, the weird figure at the altar placed the Crescent upon a great perfuming-pan of gold, afterwards lighting the small brazier of wrought silver beneath. Again my companion, theimam, droned his guttural chant, while the white-robed figure, whose back was always turned towards me, sank upon his knees and remained statuesque and motionless.
“Bear witness, O Roumi,” cried the aged official of the mosque. “Earnestly I seek permission to impart unto thee that knowledge which thou seekest;” and, taking from a niche in the wall a great golden goblet, filled to the brim with water, he placed it upon the little inlaid table in the centre of the sanctuary. Advancing to the altar, he took from it the crystal lamp and held it over the goblet. In his hand was a lump of yellow wax, and, uttering an incantation in a language unknown to me, save that the wordsabarkan(black),adhu(wind), andthamat’t’uth(woman), I distinguished as being in the Kabyle tongue, he presently melted the wax in the flame, and allowed the liquid drops to fall into the water. Breathless, and with eager eyes, he gazed into the bright goblet, watching each drop as it fell and hardened, until suddenly his contenance relaxed, and he ejaculated—
“Yes! Thou mayest know! The key to the Great Mystery may now be given into thy keeping.”
Casting the wax down, he replaced the lamp, for the ceremony was over. By the formation of the drops in the water, he had become convinced that he might, without harm accruing, divulge the secret locked in his heart. On putting the lamp back into its place, he took from the altar a crystal mirror, about a foot square, in a broad frame of solid gold, delicately chased. Placing it in my hands, he said—
“Breathe upon this; then tell me what thou seest.”
I dimmed the surface with my breath, as he had commanded, and, lo! in an instant there appeared a picture that entranced me.
“What seest thou?” he inquired.
“There is revealed unto me a landscape, strange and weird,” I answered. “By what magic is this effect produced?”
“Describe what is therein revealed,” he urged.
“I see the Desert at sunset,” I said. “The sky is ablaze, and against it there riseth from the sea of burning sand a single mountain, shaped like a camel’s hump. It is far distant, and growing purple in the evening hour, but I can distinguish upon its summit three giant palms. In its side there is apparently a cave.”
“And in the foreground?”
“There is a single traveller. He is an old man, who hath fallen from his horse, and while one hand clutcheth at his throat, the other is outstretched towards the mountain. He is in pain,” I added; “apparently he is dying of thirst, for birds of prey hover about him, and his eyes have in them the glitter of madness. The picture is beautiful, yet terrible!”
“Good!” he said. “It is finished!” and taking the mirror from me, he returned it to its place. The illusion puzzled me, yet he would not allow me to investigate. At that moment, however, I became aware that the place was filling with a dense smoke, and from beyond the closed door there came a noise as of the roaring and crackling of flames.
The house in which we were was already on fire!
Pointing out the fact to him in alarm, I urged him to tell me at once how to use the Crescent; but he heeded not my words, so absorbed was he, bowing before the mysterious tenant of the grave in pious devotions.
“Tell me,” I cried. “For Zoraida’s sake, withhold not from me the Secret which thou hast promised, so that I may save her!”
The flames had burst through some panelling behind the altar, and the place was filled with sparks and dense smoke. Just at that instant the statuesque figure turned, raising its hand wildly. For a moment a gleaming knife trembled aloft in the dull glare of the flames, and next second it was buried deep in the breast of Mohammed ben Ishak!
I shrieked, but my companion only laughed a mocking, hideous laugh, and, reeling slightly, stood contemplating the approaching flames quite calmly. The shock seemed to have paralysed him.
“Come, let us fly!” I urged, dashing wildly across to save him. “See, the door is still intact! There is yet time!”
Turning upon me fiercely, he shook me off. It was a terrible moment. I stood transfixed by horror.
“No,” he cried, with a strange light in his eyes. “It—it is the blood revenge, the swift vengeance that I dreaded, the punishment I deserve for my sin against the Brotherhood—I—I am a traitor—but I fear not to die—I go—through fire—to the cool waters of Tasnîm!”
“Surely thou wilt not seek thine own destruction, and take thy Secret with thee?” I gasped.
He remained silent; he did not even turn towards the man who had struck the fatal blow. The flames were roaring, and the heat had become so intense that the perspiration in big drops rolled from my face.
“Speak!” I shrieked. “For the sake of the woman whose young life dependeth upon thy word! Be merciful unto her! Tell me what to do!”
But, with a hoarse, defiant laugh, he folded his arms, saying, “I refuse!”
“By Heaven!” I burst out, in sudden anger, “this is no time for dallying words. If thou wilt not, then may the curse of the Daughter of the Sun, whose life thou sacrificest, hang upon thy neck, heavy as a millstone, and may it drag thee down to the place that is prepared for evil doers.”
The effect of my words was electrical.
“No! No!” he cried, evidently in as deadly fear of the imprecations of Zoraida as the Ennitra had been. “No! I—I have reconsidered!” he gasped.
As the words left his lips, I saw that the flames had ignited the flowing robes of the man from the tomb, and though he rushed about in paroxysms of intense pain, and at last fell, unconscious, he uttered not a sound! Swiftly, indeed, was he punished for his crime.
“Tell me, quickly!” I cried aloud. “In another moment we shall both be lost. Fly! Let me assist thee. Even now we can escape!” and as I spoke, a tongue of fire singed my hair and burned my eyebrows.
“No!” he shrieked, his voice sounding shrill above the dull roar, as his eyes rolled wildly. Undoubtedly a terrible madness had seized him, and so vigorously did he threaten, rave, and curse, that I felt half inclined to make a desperate dash for life through the door by which we had entered.
Again I clutched him, frantically appealing to him to tell me the secret, and as I did so, the flames leaped past us, and we were both half suffocated by the smoke. Fortunately, I possessed sufficient presence of mind to snatch up the Crescent, and, regardless of the manner in which it blistered my fingers, I wrapped it in my burnouse, crying—
“Impart unto me the Great Secret, I beseech thee! Quickly!”
Reeling, he staggered and fell. The mysterious vengeance of the Senousya had descended upon him, and the life-blood flowed from the ugly wound. In a moment I dropped upon my knees and supported his head, determined that he should not lapse into unconsciousness, and so carry with him to the grave the key to the extraordinary enigma.
In desperation, I shrieked a final appeal to him to fulfil his pledge. Death stared us both in the face, for already had I become seized with a sudden faintness.
It all occurred in a few brief moments.
“Yes,” he gasped, wildly and with difficulty, at last. “I—I will save the beauteous Lalla Zoraida. She shall lead the Senousya into—into the holy war, as she hath done the Ennitra. In the great fight every Infidel shall be slain with sharp swords. Yes!—I will tell thee how thou canst save her. Travel with all speed over the Desert to the Oasis of Agram, in the country of the Kanouri, which lieth in the direction of the sunrise. Thence ride onward across the plain of Ndalada, past the town of Dibbela, until thou comest to the Well of Tjigrin, and when thou hast accomplished two days’ journey still due eastward from the latter place, past the ruins of a town, thou wilt find a single clump of palms. Then take the Crescent, and—”
His thin lips moved, but no sound came from them. His eyes slowly closed! It was, indeed, a critical moment. My heart sank, for it seemed as though he was no longer aware of the things about him.
“Speak!” I yelled in his ear. “What must I do with the Crescent?”
His eyes opened, but they were dim. In their depths a film was gathering, as life fast ebbed. With a supreme effort, however, he raised his bony hand, pulling down my head until my ear was close against his mouth. Then, struggling to articulate, he whispered hoarsely, and with extreme difficulty—
“Obey my injunctions strictly. Take the Crescent, and—and when thou hast arrived at the spot I have indicated—not before, or thou wilt never gain the Great Secret—place—it—upon—thy brow! Then—will—marvels—undreamed of—be revealed. Remember—attempt not to fathom the Mystery until—until thou hast passed the Well of Tjigrin two whole days! May—may Allah—preserve and guard thee, and may thy—”
But his final blessing was never completed, for convulsions shook his frame, and he fell back heavily and breathed his last.
Springing to my feet, I stood for a second. Flames seemed threatening me from every side, but, with a sudden desperate dash, I rushed, half blinded, towards the door, which at that moment was being licked by the darting fire. Then, opening it by raising a curious latch, I fled quickly through the two small apartments, now filled with smoke, out across the patio, finding myself in a few moments standing in the road fainting and unsteady, clutching at a wall for support.
How I accomplished that flight for life I scarcely know. Panting, I stood, unable for a few moments to realise how near I had been to a horrible end. Though my clothes were brown and scorched, my arms blistered, and my hair and beard severely singed, I cared not. Zoraida’s future was now in my hands, for at last I had succeeded in obtaining the key by which the Great Mystery might be elucidated—at last I should know the Truth—at last the hidden Secret of the Crescent, the undreamed-of marvel, would be revealed to me!
Chapter Forty One.Through Rose Mists.Mounted on améheri, and alone, I toiled with all speed onward over the glaring, sun-baked Desert, towards the spot indicated by the man from whom I had, at the eleventh hour, wrung the key of the Great Secret.Had he fooled me? Were not his instructions remarkable; did they not bear suspicion of some ulterior object? Even as I rode along, with face set sternly towards the sunrise, the thought that the dead man had sent me on a bootless errand caused me considerable anxiety. Reviewing his words and actions, I saw how ineffectually he had striven to conceal the bitter prejudice he entertained for unbelievers, how intensely he hated all Christians, and with what eagerness he contemplated the eventual triumph of the Senousya. Such being the case, I reflected, what more natural than he should resolve to retain Zoraida in the ranks of the conspirators, in order that she might lead them to the contemplated victory; what more natural than he should refuse to impart to me the knowledge whereby I might rescue the Daughter of the Sun from the dangers that were fast closing in upon her? Again, by the Ennitra, and in all possibility by the Senousya also, the Wonderful Crescent was believed to be a talisman that gave triumph to its possessor. Was it probable that he would, even though Zoraida had commanded, reveal to me, a Christian, the elucidation of the problem that he had denied to all True Believers?No. In both word and action the oldimamhad betrayed a firm disinclination to assist me to elucidate the Great Secret, and as I journeyed on day after day, lonely and friendless, in that barren, unfamiliar country, the conviction within me grew stronger that the revelation he had gasped with his last breath was merely a base device to part me from the woman I worshipped.Yet it was a relief to get away from that doomed city, with its flood of fiendish exultation; to escape from the revolting ebullition of barbarism, and the fiendish glee of my treacherous friends, who were no doubt overwhelming their Daughter of the Sun with attentions that she loathed, like caresses from the ghouls of hell. Even the dead silence of the wilderness was preferable to the din of the hard-fought conflict, with its sickening sequel.The camel I rode I had found straying at some distance from Agadez, when on the eventful dawn I fled from the city on foot. It was handsomely caparisoned, and, to my delight, I had found that its provision-bags, ornamented in a manner that showed its owner to be a cadi, were packed with necessaries for a long march. In all probability its hapless owner had prepared to fly at the approach of the bandits, but had been murdered when on the point of starting. After a hurried inspection of the bags, satisfying myself that there was a supply of comparatively fresh water in the skin, I concealed the Crescent of Glorious Wonders within a bag of fodder, and, mounting, had started off, without map or plan, upon what, from various appearances, I judged was the caravan route to the well of Tin-dâouen. This surmise fortunately proved correct, for in three days I reached it; then, after halting the night, I discovered a valley full of luxuriant vegetation, with high doum and talha trees and great patches of camomile flowers growing in rich profusion. Continuing through this verdant glen, where antelopes and giraffes disported themselves, I ascended over the rough, rocky ground to a high, barren plateau, and, with my face always to the east, plunged, with a reckless disregard for the consequences, into the great unexplored desert which forms an effectual barrier between the country of the Ahír and that of the Kanouri.I pushed on with all haste, so that if it proved, as I feared, a fool’s errand, I might, by almost ceaseless travel, be enabled to return again to Agadez before the moon had run her course. Armed with a rifle, powder-horn, and crooked dagger that I had taken from the body of an unfortunate janissary, I sped onward through the great lone country. From sundown until dawn I journeyed, resting through the day in what little shade I could devise, then setting forth again, always leaving the setting sun behind, always remembering that each stride of the faithful animal beneath me took me further and further from the woman whose life lay in my hands.Gradually and irresistibly had I been drawn into a vortex of mystery and treachery, from which I was struggling to extricate myself. Zoraida’s piteous appeal rang in my ears; the very thought of her as the wife of that villainous archrebel caused me to grind my teeth. Feeling convinced that the errand I had undertaken must be futile, I was, in my more gloomy moments, sorely tempted to disobey Mohammed ben Ishak’s injunctions, and try the effect produced by placing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders upon my brow. Each time, however, the intensely earnest, agonised face of the aged prayer-reciter, as he implored me not to try to fathom the Great Mystery before arrival at the spot indicated, came vividly before me, causing me to stay my impatient hand.The fatigue of those long anxious nights and blazing days was so terrible, that, on more than one occasion, faintness seized me, and I had a recurrence of those strange hallucinations from which I suffered after Labakan had dealt me the cowardly blow. I seemed at times light-headed, eager and jubilant one hour, despondent and contemplative of suicide the next. But the recollection of the deadly peril of Zoraida, whom I loved with a true and fervent devotion, spurred me onward over shifting sands and treacherous rocks, onward to the place where the dead man had promised the Great Secret should be revealed.On the seventh day after leaving Agadez, I slept under the palms of the Agram Oasis, filled my water-skin at the well, and, representing myself as a straggler from a trading caravan, begged some food from the camp of the Bedouins of the peaceful Kanouri. It has always struck me as curious how rapidly news travels in the Desert. Already these men had heard rumours of desperate fighting in the city of the Ahír, although it must have been conveyed by way of Tin-Telloust and Bir-ed-Doum, the circuitous route by which caravans travel on account of the wells, and fully one hundred miles further than the straight journey I had accomplished. For several reasons I had deemed it best to feign ignorance, therefore to all my anxious inquirers I represented I had travelled direct from Akoukou without touching Agadez.Spending one day only with these tent-dwellers, tall, bronzed, handsome, good-natured fellows, I gave them peace, and, with the brilliant sunset once more behind me, rode away through great patches of a poisonous plant my friends called “karugu,” and out again upon the plain towards the remote little Arab town of Dibbela, where I arrived two days later, after a somewhat perilous journey across some almost inaccessible rocks which the Arabs call the Tefraska. At dawn on the second day after leaving this place, having travelled due south under the direction of the leader of a caravan conveying ivory and rose oil from the Tsâd to exchange for cotton goods, razors, sword-blades, and pieces of paper with the sign of the three moons, I came upon the Oasis of Tjigrin, rich in herbage, date palms, and clusters of tangled bushes, among which ostriches and gazelles were moving. Here, wearied out, I tethered myméherito a palm tree, and, reflecting that in two days I should know the truth, flung myself down and slept soundly in a dream of quiet ecstasy.My awakening, however, was sudden, for, feeling myself grasped roughly by the shoulder, my hand instinctively sought my knife, but a loud, hearty laugh caused me to rub my eyes and look up into the sun-tanned, bearded face which shadowed the glare from my eyes.“Que diabe!” cried a voice in surprise. “Then I’m not mistaken. Itisyou!”“Eh bien! eh bien! old fellow!” I cried, amazed, jumping to my feet and grasping the rough brown hand that shot from between the folds of the burnouse. “This is indeed a pleasant meeting!”The man who stood holding the bridle of his milk-white horse was none other than Octave Uzanne, the Spahi who, when we had met on the fatal Meskam Oasis, had told me his life’s romance!“Really, I can scarce believe my eyes,” I continued, speaking in French. “I was at Tuggurt when a messenger arrived with the news that Paul Deschanel’s column had been cut up and massacred at the Well of Dhaya, near Aïn Souf, by the Ouled Ba’ Hammou. I naturally concluded you had also fallen.”“Sapristi! Je suis un veinard,” he answered in the slang of the Army of Africa, still holding my hand in his hearty grip. Then, with a sigh, he added, with seriousness, “It is, alas! true that our column was enticed into an ambush by the Ennitra, assisted by the Ouled Ba’ Hammou, and slaughtered, myself with eight others being the sole survivors. For two months we were held prisoners by Hadj Absalam, until at length I managed to escape and travel back alone to Tuggurt to relate the terrible story. Poor Deschanel! his was indeed a sad end—very sad!”For a moment he seemed overcome by thoughts of his dead comrades, but in a few seconds he had reassumed his old buoyancy, and, offering me a cigarette, took one himself, and, having lit up, we squatted side by side in the shadow to talk.“Well, what brings you here, so far from Biskra?” I asked presently, after he had related to me his adventures at the mountain stronghold of the Ennitra, which were almost as exciting as my own.“Duty,” he answered briefly, with a hard look upon his handsome face quite unusual to him.“You are not alone?” I queried.“No—not exactly alone,” he answered abruptly, without apparently intending to tell me the object for which he had penetrated so far south, for he suddenly exclaimed, “You have not yet told me what sort of life you have been leading among the Bedouins—or why you are here alone.”Briefly I related the story of my capture, my slavery, and my escape, without, however, telling him the real object for which I was working, or mentioning the assault on Agadez.“You are a born adventurer; I am one by circumstance,” he exclaimed, with a good-humoured laugh, when I had concluded. Then he added, “Although my life with the Ennitra was one of terrible drudgery, yet, after all, I would rather have remained with them—had I but known;” and he sighed regretfully.“Why?” I asked, surprised.“Sheis here!” he answered meaningly.“Do you mean Madame de Largentière?” I asked, remembering in that moment how dearly he loved the woman who had been so cruelly snatched from him, and with what self-sacrifice he had buried himself beneath the scarlet drapery of ahomardof the Desert. “Isshein Algeria?” I inquired.For answer he blew a cloud of smoke slowly from his lips, then from beneath the folds of his burnouse he drew forth a worn but carefully folded copy of the Algiers newspaper,L’Akhbar, which he handed to me, saying, “Read the first column.”Opening the limp paper, I noticed it was dated two months before, and on glancing at the column indicated, my eyes fell upon the heading in large type: “The New Governor-General of Algeria: Arrival of Monsieur de Largentière.”Eagerly I read on. The report described the landing and enthusiastic reception of Monsieur de Largentière, who had been appointed Governor-General. The streets had been gaily decorated with Venetian masts and strings of flags, salutes had been fired from the warships in the harbour and from the Kasbah, as the vessel conveying his Excellency from Marseilles had cast anchor, and as the party stepped on shore, the little daughter of the General of Division had presented a bouquet of choice flowers to Madame de Largentière, who, the journal incidentally mentioned, was “well known as one of the most beautiful women in Paris, and a leader of fashion.” Algerian society, continuedL’Akhbar, welcomed her as its queen. No doubt, during the coming season the Governor’s palace would be the scene of many a brilliant festivity, and the colony owed a debt of gratitude to the Government for appointing as its representative an official so upright, so experienced, and so genuinely popular. All Algeria, it concluded, extended to the new Governor and his beautiful wife a boundless and heartfelt welcome.“Well?” I exclaimed, handing back the paper. “You will have an opportunity of seeing her very soon, I suppose?”“See her? Never!” he answered, with poignant bitterness. “Already I have discovered that she is instituting inquiries about me; that is the reason why I have not sought to return to Biskra. I do not desire the past disinterred;” and he thoughtfully watched the ascending rings of smoke.“Fate plays us some sorry tricks sometimes. Most probably you will meet her just when you least expect—”“What?” he cried, interrupting. “Face her? To hold her hand as before—to tell her that her husband, the man whose ring she wears, and over whom the journalists gush and drivel, is—is a murderer! No! No! I never will!”“But, my dear fellow, is it not your duty to denounce him if you possess absolute proof of his guilt?” I argued.“My duty?Bien” he answered reflectively. “But the denunciation would bring no satisfaction to me—on the contrary, it would kill her.”“You are right,” I conceded reluctantly, after a pause. “Your silence and self-denial is the greatest kindness you could show towards her. Indeed, your affection must be very deep-rooted, or your patience would long ago have been exhausted amid this hard life and social ostracism.”“Ah! Heaven knows how well I love her,” he said, turning to me with a deep, wistful look. “She loves me too, and the fact that she has sought to find out where I am shows that she thinks sometimes of me. But I mean to keep the resolve I made long ago, for under an assumed name and in the Spahis she will never discover me.”“Now that De Largentière is Governor, he is all-powerful,” I observed. “I wonder what he would do if he discovered you, and found out that you held absolute proof of his guilt?”“Cr-r-r!” he exclaimed, as with a sad smile he drew his finger across his throat. “If he dared not commit the crime himself, he would hire one of the many obliging Arab desperadoes who hang about the fringe of the Desert.”“Yes,” I said. “He would, no doubt, make some serious attempt to seal your lips.”“I shall give him no opportunity. As far as I am concerned, he will, for Violet’s sake, enjoy his reputation for honesty and uprightness,” he declared. Then he added quickly, “But why should we drift to a subject that is to me so painful? The romance of my life has ended. I am a derelict, a piece of human wreckage drifting helplessly upon the sea of despair.”“So am I,” I said gloomily. “Only I am struggling to reach a landmark that will direct me to a harbour of refuge.”“I scarcely follow you,” he observed, suddenly interested. “That you have some very strong motive for spending your days in these uncivilised regions seems certain, but as you have never exchanged confidences with me, I remain in ignorance. Is it in your case also a woman?”I nodded an affirmative.“Tell me about her. Who is she?” he inquired, looking straight into my eyes.For a few moments I remained silent. Then, returning his steadfast gaze, I answered—“I love Zoraida!”“Zoraida!” he cried, starting up. “Surely you don’t mean the woman of the Ennitra, known as Daughter of the Sun?”“The same,” I replied. “You may laugh, sneer, tell me I am a dreamer, dazzled by the glitter and splendour of an Eastern court, fascinated by a pair of kohl-darkened eyes and a forehead hung with sequins, but, nevertheless, the fact remains that she and I love each another.”“It seems impossible,” he said. “You have actually looked upon her unveiled, and spoken with her, then?”“Yes. Why?”“Because it is death to an Infidel to either look upon her countenance or seek to address her. While a prisoner in Hadj Absalam’s palace, I heard most extraordinary things regarding her. The terrible story was told me how, on one occasion, three Chasseurs, held captive by the old robber, had, by the purest accident, discovered her passing unveiled from the court of the palace guards into the harem. Amazed at her extraordinary beauty, they stood gazing at her, but those looks of admiration cost them their lives. Their gaze, it was alleged, had polluted her, and within an hour their heads were smote off and their bodies thrown to the dogs.”“Then you have never seen her?”“No. During the time I was in the hands of the Ennitra, she was absent. Many were the strange rumours I heard about her, however: how she was possessed of almost supernatural power, how she had planned most of the raiding expeditions of Hadj Absalam, how she ruled the fierce band as their Queen, and, attired as a youth, had actually led them successfully against our forces! I can scarcely believe it all, but the palace guards assured me that all they told me was the unexaggerated truth. Six months ago the Government issued a proclamation, offering two rewards of ten thousand francs each for the capture of Hadj Absalam and Zoraida.”“I know what you have heard is the truth, from personal observation,” I said quietly. His statement about the reward was, however, startling, and caused me increased uneasiness.“Tell me all about her,” he urged. “How a Christian could succeed in approaching her, judging from all I have heard as to the rigorous manner in which she is guarded, seems absolutely incomprehensible.”“It forms a strange story,” I admitted, and then, while he consumed a fresh cigarette, I proceeded to briefly relate the manner in which we became acquainted, and the weird and startling events that followed, suppressing only the fact that Agadez had been occupied by the outlaws. I hesitated to tell him this, because I feared that if a large body of Spahis were in the district, they would at once proceed there, and in all probability capture both the robber Sheikh and Zoraida, to secure the reward. Nevertheless, I explained how I became possessed of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, of which he had heard rumours, and which he examined with intense interest when I produced it from my forage-bag. Then, after I had replaced it in its hiding-place, I told him of the extraordinary directions the deadimamhad given me, and that I was on my way to test the truth of his strange statement.“In two days you will arrive at the spot he has indicated,” he observed, after listening to my story with breathless interest. “The mystery is so remarkable, and has so excited my curiosity, that I wish I might be permitted to accompany you in this search for an explanation. Do you object?”“Not in the least,” I answered, laughing. “There is something so uncanny about the whole affair, that your companionship will be most acceptable. When shall we set out?”“To start now would be unwise,” he said, gazing round with practised eye at the Desert, already aglow in the brilliant sunshine, and observing, at a glance, its atmospheric conditions. “Let us eat and idle now, and leave at sunset.”To this arrangement I acquiesced. Then he told me how the Spahis had encamped four hours’ march away, that he had strayed from a reconnoitring party, and, having regard to the fact that they were remaining there at least a week and that we should be only four or five days absent, he did not consider it necessary to undertake an eight hours’ ride to ask permission of his captain before starting.“Military regulations are sometimes relaxed in this out-of-the-world spot,” he added, laughing. “When they find I’m missing, they will probably search for me; but having now lost myself, why should I return just at present, especially as they are not likely to move on before they find traces of me.”“In what direction are you marching? Towards Agadez?” I inquired anxiously.“Scarcely,” he replied, with a smile. “We have no desire to be annihilated by the Sultan of the Ahír. No. We are travelling due south to Lake Tsâd.”His answer reassured me, and, having prepared and eaten a rather primitive meal, we sought under a tree that dreamy, peaceful repose that desert travellers find so refreshing in an oasis.An hour before the sun had sunk in its fiery glory of gold and crimson, there was a beautiful mirage of water, rocks, and feathery palms upon the sky, but, as we prepared to depart, it faded from our gaze as rapidly as it had appeared. With the brilliant glow of the dying day behind us, we set forth into an unknown country, Uzanne upon his white Arab stallion, I upon my handsomely-caparisoned camel. Riding down the eastern side of the wooded hill we almost imperceptibly entered the plain, the slope being so gradual. After travelling for some time in the darkening hours along the level ground, we found it was by no means flat, although it usually appeared so in our immediate neighbourhood; yet it had an upward trend, and some distance beyond it rose and fell in long, wavelike swells of sufficient height to hide, at times, even such an object as the range of Gueisiger mountains on our left. On all sides we scanned the fertile plain for any signs of life. A herd of gazelles scampered along in front, but no other living thing seemed near.When we had been riding about five hours, we detected straight before us, rising from the level of the plain, now sandy and desolate, a long black line, jagged and irregular, which gradually developed, on nearer view in the brilliant moonbeams, into something like a mass of ruins resembling a deserted town.Evidently we were on the right path, as indicated by Mohammed ben Ishak. In this he certainly had not deceived me. On the outskirts of this desolate pile, lying so far from civilisation, we saw first an old reservoir, edged in with rough-faced blocks of granite. No wall or gate marked the city boundary, nor were the ruined buildings, half buried in drifting sand, conspicuous by their architectural beauty, for square black stones, piled on one another without mortar, formed houses that for size were larger than those in Agadez, but the stony desolation was not relieved by a piece of either wood or metal. Many of the houses seemed in an excellent state of preservation, and all seemed as if the inhabitants had left through a pestilence rather than the ravages of war; time alone, assisted by the wind and tempest, appeared to have dismantled others. There were three mosques, but all were however, in a confused mass of ruins, the cupola of one alone remaining intact, though its crescent that had pointed skyward had rotted and fallen. It was strangely weird riding through that deserted city in the brilliant moonlight, amid grotesque and ghostly shadows. Upon the last-mentioned mosque we discovered a stone, rudely inscribed, in Arabic, with the words, “The building of this holy place was ordered by the Khalîf Othman.” This gave us a clue to the age of this half-effaced city, for the Khalîf was all-powerful in Northern Africa in the twenty-seventh year of the Hedjira (A.D. 647), and lived at Sbeitla, once a great city, but now, like this forgotten place, a mere heap of crumbling ruins.Continuing our weary way, we journeyed straight on between a parallel range of sand dunes, until we came to the open plain again. More stony the country grew, as we proceeded, hour after hour, guided only by the stars, through the barren, desolate land, until we halted at sunrise in the midst of a vast wilderness, where no rising ground relieved the monotony of the rocky level. Eating, resting, and sleeping, we resumed the journey again at sunset, and, throughout the night, pushed onward in eager search of the single clump of palms beneath the shadow of which I was to seek to elucidate the Great Secret.At last, however, the ground ascended gently, and we saw, away to the south-east, hills rising, peak after peak, as far as the eye could reach. The outlook of rounded hill-tops was varied occasionally by a small plateau, but the landscape was terribly arid and dispiriting. Nevertheless, we plodded still onward in the direction the dead man had indicated, until at length our eager, impatient eyes were rewarded by the sight of a low hill, surmounted by a single dump of about half a dozen palms, their feathery tops looming darkly against the horizon already flushed by the delicate rose-tints of dawn.We both detected our goal at the same moment, and, with ejaculations of satisfaction, spurred forward excitedly at redoubled pace, breathlessly impatient to put the Crescent of Glorious Wonders to the crucial test.The spot was actually within sight!Swiftly we rode over the soft, treacherous sand and great patches of rough stones, our adventurous spirits suddenly stimulated by the anticipation that probably within an hour, the Great Mystery—the secret preserved through so many ages, the knowledge by which alone I could effect Zoraida’s rescue—would at last be revealed.
Mounted on améheri, and alone, I toiled with all speed onward over the glaring, sun-baked Desert, towards the spot indicated by the man from whom I had, at the eleventh hour, wrung the key of the Great Secret.
Had he fooled me? Were not his instructions remarkable; did they not bear suspicion of some ulterior object? Even as I rode along, with face set sternly towards the sunrise, the thought that the dead man had sent me on a bootless errand caused me considerable anxiety. Reviewing his words and actions, I saw how ineffectually he had striven to conceal the bitter prejudice he entertained for unbelievers, how intensely he hated all Christians, and with what eagerness he contemplated the eventual triumph of the Senousya. Such being the case, I reflected, what more natural than he should resolve to retain Zoraida in the ranks of the conspirators, in order that she might lead them to the contemplated victory; what more natural than he should refuse to impart to me the knowledge whereby I might rescue the Daughter of the Sun from the dangers that were fast closing in upon her? Again, by the Ennitra, and in all possibility by the Senousya also, the Wonderful Crescent was believed to be a talisman that gave triumph to its possessor. Was it probable that he would, even though Zoraida had commanded, reveal to me, a Christian, the elucidation of the problem that he had denied to all True Believers?
No. In both word and action the oldimamhad betrayed a firm disinclination to assist me to elucidate the Great Secret, and as I journeyed on day after day, lonely and friendless, in that barren, unfamiliar country, the conviction within me grew stronger that the revelation he had gasped with his last breath was merely a base device to part me from the woman I worshipped.
Yet it was a relief to get away from that doomed city, with its flood of fiendish exultation; to escape from the revolting ebullition of barbarism, and the fiendish glee of my treacherous friends, who were no doubt overwhelming their Daughter of the Sun with attentions that she loathed, like caresses from the ghouls of hell. Even the dead silence of the wilderness was preferable to the din of the hard-fought conflict, with its sickening sequel.
The camel I rode I had found straying at some distance from Agadez, when on the eventful dawn I fled from the city on foot. It was handsomely caparisoned, and, to my delight, I had found that its provision-bags, ornamented in a manner that showed its owner to be a cadi, were packed with necessaries for a long march. In all probability its hapless owner had prepared to fly at the approach of the bandits, but had been murdered when on the point of starting. After a hurried inspection of the bags, satisfying myself that there was a supply of comparatively fresh water in the skin, I concealed the Crescent of Glorious Wonders within a bag of fodder, and, mounting, had started off, without map or plan, upon what, from various appearances, I judged was the caravan route to the well of Tin-dâouen. This surmise fortunately proved correct, for in three days I reached it; then, after halting the night, I discovered a valley full of luxuriant vegetation, with high doum and talha trees and great patches of camomile flowers growing in rich profusion. Continuing through this verdant glen, where antelopes and giraffes disported themselves, I ascended over the rough, rocky ground to a high, barren plateau, and, with my face always to the east, plunged, with a reckless disregard for the consequences, into the great unexplored desert which forms an effectual barrier between the country of the Ahír and that of the Kanouri.
I pushed on with all haste, so that if it proved, as I feared, a fool’s errand, I might, by almost ceaseless travel, be enabled to return again to Agadez before the moon had run her course. Armed with a rifle, powder-horn, and crooked dagger that I had taken from the body of an unfortunate janissary, I sped onward through the great lone country. From sundown until dawn I journeyed, resting through the day in what little shade I could devise, then setting forth again, always leaving the setting sun behind, always remembering that each stride of the faithful animal beneath me took me further and further from the woman whose life lay in my hands.
Gradually and irresistibly had I been drawn into a vortex of mystery and treachery, from which I was struggling to extricate myself. Zoraida’s piteous appeal rang in my ears; the very thought of her as the wife of that villainous archrebel caused me to grind my teeth. Feeling convinced that the errand I had undertaken must be futile, I was, in my more gloomy moments, sorely tempted to disobey Mohammed ben Ishak’s injunctions, and try the effect produced by placing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders upon my brow. Each time, however, the intensely earnest, agonised face of the aged prayer-reciter, as he implored me not to try to fathom the Great Mystery before arrival at the spot indicated, came vividly before me, causing me to stay my impatient hand.
The fatigue of those long anxious nights and blazing days was so terrible, that, on more than one occasion, faintness seized me, and I had a recurrence of those strange hallucinations from which I suffered after Labakan had dealt me the cowardly blow. I seemed at times light-headed, eager and jubilant one hour, despondent and contemplative of suicide the next. But the recollection of the deadly peril of Zoraida, whom I loved with a true and fervent devotion, spurred me onward over shifting sands and treacherous rocks, onward to the place where the dead man had promised the Great Secret should be revealed.
On the seventh day after leaving Agadez, I slept under the palms of the Agram Oasis, filled my water-skin at the well, and, representing myself as a straggler from a trading caravan, begged some food from the camp of the Bedouins of the peaceful Kanouri. It has always struck me as curious how rapidly news travels in the Desert. Already these men had heard rumours of desperate fighting in the city of the Ahír, although it must have been conveyed by way of Tin-Telloust and Bir-ed-Doum, the circuitous route by which caravans travel on account of the wells, and fully one hundred miles further than the straight journey I had accomplished. For several reasons I had deemed it best to feign ignorance, therefore to all my anxious inquirers I represented I had travelled direct from Akoukou without touching Agadez.
Spending one day only with these tent-dwellers, tall, bronzed, handsome, good-natured fellows, I gave them peace, and, with the brilliant sunset once more behind me, rode away through great patches of a poisonous plant my friends called “karugu,” and out again upon the plain towards the remote little Arab town of Dibbela, where I arrived two days later, after a somewhat perilous journey across some almost inaccessible rocks which the Arabs call the Tefraska. At dawn on the second day after leaving this place, having travelled due south under the direction of the leader of a caravan conveying ivory and rose oil from the Tsâd to exchange for cotton goods, razors, sword-blades, and pieces of paper with the sign of the three moons, I came upon the Oasis of Tjigrin, rich in herbage, date palms, and clusters of tangled bushes, among which ostriches and gazelles were moving. Here, wearied out, I tethered myméherito a palm tree, and, reflecting that in two days I should know the truth, flung myself down and slept soundly in a dream of quiet ecstasy.
My awakening, however, was sudden, for, feeling myself grasped roughly by the shoulder, my hand instinctively sought my knife, but a loud, hearty laugh caused me to rub my eyes and look up into the sun-tanned, bearded face which shadowed the glare from my eyes.
“Que diabe!” cried a voice in surprise. “Then I’m not mistaken. Itisyou!”
“Eh bien! eh bien! old fellow!” I cried, amazed, jumping to my feet and grasping the rough brown hand that shot from between the folds of the burnouse. “This is indeed a pleasant meeting!”
The man who stood holding the bridle of his milk-white horse was none other than Octave Uzanne, the Spahi who, when we had met on the fatal Meskam Oasis, had told me his life’s romance!
“Really, I can scarce believe my eyes,” I continued, speaking in French. “I was at Tuggurt when a messenger arrived with the news that Paul Deschanel’s column had been cut up and massacred at the Well of Dhaya, near Aïn Souf, by the Ouled Ba’ Hammou. I naturally concluded you had also fallen.”
“Sapristi! Je suis un veinard,” he answered in the slang of the Army of Africa, still holding my hand in his hearty grip. Then, with a sigh, he added, with seriousness, “It is, alas! true that our column was enticed into an ambush by the Ennitra, assisted by the Ouled Ba’ Hammou, and slaughtered, myself with eight others being the sole survivors. For two months we were held prisoners by Hadj Absalam, until at length I managed to escape and travel back alone to Tuggurt to relate the terrible story. Poor Deschanel! his was indeed a sad end—very sad!”
For a moment he seemed overcome by thoughts of his dead comrades, but in a few seconds he had reassumed his old buoyancy, and, offering me a cigarette, took one himself, and, having lit up, we squatted side by side in the shadow to talk.
“Well, what brings you here, so far from Biskra?” I asked presently, after he had related to me his adventures at the mountain stronghold of the Ennitra, which were almost as exciting as my own.
“Duty,” he answered briefly, with a hard look upon his handsome face quite unusual to him.
“You are not alone?” I queried.
“No—not exactly alone,” he answered abruptly, without apparently intending to tell me the object for which he had penetrated so far south, for he suddenly exclaimed, “You have not yet told me what sort of life you have been leading among the Bedouins—or why you are here alone.”
Briefly I related the story of my capture, my slavery, and my escape, without, however, telling him the real object for which I was working, or mentioning the assault on Agadez.
“You are a born adventurer; I am one by circumstance,” he exclaimed, with a good-humoured laugh, when I had concluded. Then he added, “Although my life with the Ennitra was one of terrible drudgery, yet, after all, I would rather have remained with them—had I but known;” and he sighed regretfully.
“Why?” I asked, surprised.
“Sheis here!” he answered meaningly.
“Do you mean Madame de Largentière?” I asked, remembering in that moment how dearly he loved the woman who had been so cruelly snatched from him, and with what self-sacrifice he had buried himself beneath the scarlet drapery of ahomardof the Desert. “Isshein Algeria?” I inquired.
For answer he blew a cloud of smoke slowly from his lips, then from beneath the folds of his burnouse he drew forth a worn but carefully folded copy of the Algiers newspaper,L’Akhbar, which he handed to me, saying, “Read the first column.”
Opening the limp paper, I noticed it was dated two months before, and on glancing at the column indicated, my eyes fell upon the heading in large type: “The New Governor-General of Algeria: Arrival of Monsieur de Largentière.”
Eagerly I read on. The report described the landing and enthusiastic reception of Monsieur de Largentière, who had been appointed Governor-General. The streets had been gaily decorated with Venetian masts and strings of flags, salutes had been fired from the warships in the harbour and from the Kasbah, as the vessel conveying his Excellency from Marseilles had cast anchor, and as the party stepped on shore, the little daughter of the General of Division had presented a bouquet of choice flowers to Madame de Largentière, who, the journal incidentally mentioned, was “well known as one of the most beautiful women in Paris, and a leader of fashion.” Algerian society, continuedL’Akhbar, welcomed her as its queen. No doubt, during the coming season the Governor’s palace would be the scene of many a brilliant festivity, and the colony owed a debt of gratitude to the Government for appointing as its representative an official so upright, so experienced, and so genuinely popular. All Algeria, it concluded, extended to the new Governor and his beautiful wife a boundless and heartfelt welcome.
“Well?” I exclaimed, handing back the paper. “You will have an opportunity of seeing her very soon, I suppose?”
“See her? Never!” he answered, with poignant bitterness. “Already I have discovered that she is instituting inquiries about me; that is the reason why I have not sought to return to Biskra. I do not desire the past disinterred;” and he thoughtfully watched the ascending rings of smoke.
“Fate plays us some sorry tricks sometimes. Most probably you will meet her just when you least expect—”
“What?” he cried, interrupting. “Face her? To hold her hand as before—to tell her that her husband, the man whose ring she wears, and over whom the journalists gush and drivel, is—is a murderer! No! No! I never will!”
“But, my dear fellow, is it not your duty to denounce him if you possess absolute proof of his guilt?” I argued.
“My duty?Bien” he answered reflectively. “But the denunciation would bring no satisfaction to me—on the contrary, it would kill her.”
“You are right,” I conceded reluctantly, after a pause. “Your silence and self-denial is the greatest kindness you could show towards her. Indeed, your affection must be very deep-rooted, or your patience would long ago have been exhausted amid this hard life and social ostracism.”
“Ah! Heaven knows how well I love her,” he said, turning to me with a deep, wistful look. “She loves me too, and the fact that she has sought to find out where I am shows that she thinks sometimes of me. But I mean to keep the resolve I made long ago, for under an assumed name and in the Spahis she will never discover me.”
“Now that De Largentière is Governor, he is all-powerful,” I observed. “I wonder what he would do if he discovered you, and found out that you held absolute proof of his guilt?”
“Cr-r-r!” he exclaimed, as with a sad smile he drew his finger across his throat. “If he dared not commit the crime himself, he would hire one of the many obliging Arab desperadoes who hang about the fringe of the Desert.”
“Yes,” I said. “He would, no doubt, make some serious attempt to seal your lips.”
“I shall give him no opportunity. As far as I am concerned, he will, for Violet’s sake, enjoy his reputation for honesty and uprightness,” he declared. Then he added quickly, “But why should we drift to a subject that is to me so painful? The romance of my life has ended. I am a derelict, a piece of human wreckage drifting helplessly upon the sea of despair.”
“So am I,” I said gloomily. “Only I am struggling to reach a landmark that will direct me to a harbour of refuge.”
“I scarcely follow you,” he observed, suddenly interested. “That you have some very strong motive for spending your days in these uncivilised regions seems certain, but as you have never exchanged confidences with me, I remain in ignorance. Is it in your case also a woman?”
I nodded an affirmative.
“Tell me about her. Who is she?” he inquired, looking straight into my eyes.
For a few moments I remained silent. Then, returning his steadfast gaze, I answered—
“I love Zoraida!”
“Zoraida!” he cried, starting up. “Surely you don’t mean the woman of the Ennitra, known as Daughter of the Sun?”
“The same,” I replied. “You may laugh, sneer, tell me I am a dreamer, dazzled by the glitter and splendour of an Eastern court, fascinated by a pair of kohl-darkened eyes and a forehead hung with sequins, but, nevertheless, the fact remains that she and I love each another.”
“It seems impossible,” he said. “You have actually looked upon her unveiled, and spoken with her, then?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because it is death to an Infidel to either look upon her countenance or seek to address her. While a prisoner in Hadj Absalam’s palace, I heard most extraordinary things regarding her. The terrible story was told me how, on one occasion, three Chasseurs, held captive by the old robber, had, by the purest accident, discovered her passing unveiled from the court of the palace guards into the harem. Amazed at her extraordinary beauty, they stood gazing at her, but those looks of admiration cost them their lives. Their gaze, it was alleged, had polluted her, and within an hour their heads were smote off and their bodies thrown to the dogs.”
“Then you have never seen her?”
“No. During the time I was in the hands of the Ennitra, she was absent. Many were the strange rumours I heard about her, however: how she was possessed of almost supernatural power, how she had planned most of the raiding expeditions of Hadj Absalam, how she ruled the fierce band as their Queen, and, attired as a youth, had actually led them successfully against our forces! I can scarcely believe it all, but the palace guards assured me that all they told me was the unexaggerated truth. Six months ago the Government issued a proclamation, offering two rewards of ten thousand francs each for the capture of Hadj Absalam and Zoraida.”
“I know what you have heard is the truth, from personal observation,” I said quietly. His statement about the reward was, however, startling, and caused me increased uneasiness.
“Tell me all about her,” he urged. “How a Christian could succeed in approaching her, judging from all I have heard as to the rigorous manner in which she is guarded, seems absolutely incomprehensible.”
“It forms a strange story,” I admitted, and then, while he consumed a fresh cigarette, I proceeded to briefly relate the manner in which we became acquainted, and the weird and startling events that followed, suppressing only the fact that Agadez had been occupied by the outlaws. I hesitated to tell him this, because I feared that if a large body of Spahis were in the district, they would at once proceed there, and in all probability capture both the robber Sheikh and Zoraida, to secure the reward. Nevertheless, I explained how I became possessed of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, of which he had heard rumours, and which he examined with intense interest when I produced it from my forage-bag. Then, after I had replaced it in its hiding-place, I told him of the extraordinary directions the deadimamhad given me, and that I was on my way to test the truth of his strange statement.
“In two days you will arrive at the spot he has indicated,” he observed, after listening to my story with breathless interest. “The mystery is so remarkable, and has so excited my curiosity, that I wish I might be permitted to accompany you in this search for an explanation. Do you object?”
“Not in the least,” I answered, laughing. “There is something so uncanny about the whole affair, that your companionship will be most acceptable. When shall we set out?”
“To start now would be unwise,” he said, gazing round with practised eye at the Desert, already aglow in the brilliant sunshine, and observing, at a glance, its atmospheric conditions. “Let us eat and idle now, and leave at sunset.”
To this arrangement I acquiesced. Then he told me how the Spahis had encamped four hours’ march away, that he had strayed from a reconnoitring party, and, having regard to the fact that they were remaining there at least a week and that we should be only four or five days absent, he did not consider it necessary to undertake an eight hours’ ride to ask permission of his captain before starting.
“Military regulations are sometimes relaxed in this out-of-the-world spot,” he added, laughing. “When they find I’m missing, they will probably search for me; but having now lost myself, why should I return just at present, especially as they are not likely to move on before they find traces of me.”
“In what direction are you marching? Towards Agadez?” I inquired anxiously.
“Scarcely,” he replied, with a smile. “We have no desire to be annihilated by the Sultan of the Ahír. No. We are travelling due south to Lake Tsâd.”
His answer reassured me, and, having prepared and eaten a rather primitive meal, we sought under a tree that dreamy, peaceful repose that desert travellers find so refreshing in an oasis.
An hour before the sun had sunk in its fiery glory of gold and crimson, there was a beautiful mirage of water, rocks, and feathery palms upon the sky, but, as we prepared to depart, it faded from our gaze as rapidly as it had appeared. With the brilliant glow of the dying day behind us, we set forth into an unknown country, Uzanne upon his white Arab stallion, I upon my handsomely-caparisoned camel. Riding down the eastern side of the wooded hill we almost imperceptibly entered the plain, the slope being so gradual. After travelling for some time in the darkening hours along the level ground, we found it was by no means flat, although it usually appeared so in our immediate neighbourhood; yet it had an upward trend, and some distance beyond it rose and fell in long, wavelike swells of sufficient height to hide, at times, even such an object as the range of Gueisiger mountains on our left. On all sides we scanned the fertile plain for any signs of life. A herd of gazelles scampered along in front, but no other living thing seemed near.
When we had been riding about five hours, we detected straight before us, rising from the level of the plain, now sandy and desolate, a long black line, jagged and irregular, which gradually developed, on nearer view in the brilliant moonbeams, into something like a mass of ruins resembling a deserted town.
Evidently we were on the right path, as indicated by Mohammed ben Ishak. In this he certainly had not deceived me. On the outskirts of this desolate pile, lying so far from civilisation, we saw first an old reservoir, edged in with rough-faced blocks of granite. No wall or gate marked the city boundary, nor were the ruined buildings, half buried in drifting sand, conspicuous by their architectural beauty, for square black stones, piled on one another without mortar, formed houses that for size were larger than those in Agadez, but the stony desolation was not relieved by a piece of either wood or metal. Many of the houses seemed in an excellent state of preservation, and all seemed as if the inhabitants had left through a pestilence rather than the ravages of war; time alone, assisted by the wind and tempest, appeared to have dismantled others. There were three mosques, but all were however, in a confused mass of ruins, the cupola of one alone remaining intact, though its crescent that had pointed skyward had rotted and fallen. It was strangely weird riding through that deserted city in the brilliant moonlight, amid grotesque and ghostly shadows. Upon the last-mentioned mosque we discovered a stone, rudely inscribed, in Arabic, with the words, “The building of this holy place was ordered by the Khalîf Othman.” This gave us a clue to the age of this half-effaced city, for the Khalîf was all-powerful in Northern Africa in the twenty-seventh year of the Hedjira (A.D. 647), and lived at Sbeitla, once a great city, but now, like this forgotten place, a mere heap of crumbling ruins.
Continuing our weary way, we journeyed straight on between a parallel range of sand dunes, until we came to the open plain again. More stony the country grew, as we proceeded, hour after hour, guided only by the stars, through the barren, desolate land, until we halted at sunrise in the midst of a vast wilderness, where no rising ground relieved the monotony of the rocky level. Eating, resting, and sleeping, we resumed the journey again at sunset, and, throughout the night, pushed onward in eager search of the single clump of palms beneath the shadow of which I was to seek to elucidate the Great Secret.
At last, however, the ground ascended gently, and we saw, away to the south-east, hills rising, peak after peak, as far as the eye could reach. The outlook of rounded hill-tops was varied occasionally by a small plateau, but the landscape was terribly arid and dispiriting. Nevertheless, we plodded still onward in the direction the dead man had indicated, until at length our eager, impatient eyes were rewarded by the sight of a low hill, surmounted by a single dump of about half a dozen palms, their feathery tops looming darkly against the horizon already flushed by the delicate rose-tints of dawn.
We both detected our goal at the same moment, and, with ejaculations of satisfaction, spurred forward excitedly at redoubled pace, breathlessly impatient to put the Crescent of Glorious Wonders to the crucial test.
The spot was actually within sight!
Swiftly we rode over the soft, treacherous sand and great patches of rough stones, our adventurous spirits suddenly stimulated by the anticipation that probably within an hour, the Great Mystery—the secret preserved through so many ages, the knowledge by which alone I could effect Zoraida’s rescue—would at last be revealed.