Chapter Thirty.

Chapter Thirty.The Hall of the Great Death.Labakan’s appearance was just as unkempt, his burnouse just as ragged, as on the day he snatched from me the box containing the horrible souvenir. As we rode side by side into the shadowless plain, he addressed many ingenious questions to me about my past. His thinly-veiled curiosity, however, I steadfastly refused to satisfy. That he knew more of me than I had imagined was quite apparent, otherwise he would not have taken such infinite pains to secure my escape from the palace of the Sultan. Puzzled over his strange conduct, I journeyed with him throughout the greater part of the day. Conversing pleasantly, and making many observations that contained a certain amount of dry humour, he never for a moment acted in a manner to cause me further misgivings. With the craftiness characteristic of his piratical tribe, he was endeavouring to disarm any suspicions I might perchance entertain, if—as to him seemed impossible—I recognised him as the man who followed me into the littlekahouain the far-distant city.After nearly five hours on the level, sandy plain, under the torrid rays of a leaden sun, we passed along a valley, desolate and barren, until we had on our left a broad mount, rising first with gradual ascent, but in its upper part forming a steep and lofty wall. Then, having passed a small defile and crossed another valley, we gained the open, stonyhamada(plateau) again, and travelled on until, in the far distance, I detected a great, gaunt ruin. Plodding onward wearily through the furnace-heat of sunshine, we reached it about two hours later, and halted under its crumbling walls.Like a solitary beacon of civilisation, the ruined arches of a great stronghold rose over the sea-like level of desolation which spread out to an immense distance south and west. The rugged, uneven valley below, with its green strip of herbage, continued far into the stony level, and beyond, northwards, the desolate waste stretched towards a great dark mountain.Astonished, I stood gazing at the spacious dimensions of this time-worn relic of the power of the ancients. It seemed half a castle, half a temple, built of hewn stone, without cement, and ornamented with Corinthian columns. Apparently the place had suffered considerably by the depredations of the Arabs, who, during succeeding centuries, had carried away most of the sculptures; nevertheless, there was much about this relic of a bygone age to excite curiosity, and to cause one to recollect the fact that years before our era the Romans had penetrated as far as that place. That their dominion was not of a mere transitory nature the ruin seemed clearly to show, for it had nearly two thousand years ago been a great castle, and, no doubt, a centre of a departed and forgotten civilisation. Yet to-day this region is unknown to European geographers, and upon both English and French maps of the Great Sahara it is left a wide blank marked “Desert.”Of Labakan I learnt that it was known to his people as the Hall of the Great Death. According to the Arab legend he related, a Christian ruler called the White Sultan, who lived there ages ago, once made war upon the Sultan of the Tsâd, defeating him, and capturing his daughter, a girl of wondrous beauty. Intoxicated by success, and heavily laden with booty, the White Sultan returned to his own stronghold, followed, however, by the defeated monarch, who travelled alone and in disguise. Attired as a magician, he obtained audience of his enemy, then suddenly threw off his disguise and demanded the return of his daughter. But the White Sultan jeered at him, refused to part with the pearl of his harem, and ordered the sorrowing father to leave his presence, or be consigned to a dungeon. He withdrew, but as he went he cast his ring of graven jacinths upon the ground, and prophesied that ere two moons had run their course, a disaster, terrible and crushing, would fall upon his Infidel foe. Then, retiring to a cavern, he lived as a hermit, and through the months of Choubát and Adâr, for fifty-nine nights and fifty-nine days, he invoked continuously the wrath of the Wrathful upon his enemy. On the sixtieth day his prophecy was fulfilled, for a terrible fire from heaven smote the palace of the White Ruler, and the poisonous fumes from the burning pile spread death and desolation throughout the land. Through the whole of the White Sultan’s broad domains the death-dealing vapours wafted, and the people, the wise men, ministers, and the Sultan himself, all fell victims to the awful visitation. The only person spared an agonising death was the daughter of the Sultan of the Tsâd, who, after the fire was subdued, found the treasure stolen from her father untouched, and carried it back with her to the shores of the Great Lake. Thus was she avenged.“Since that day,” added the pirate of the desert, “the Hall of the Great Death, with its courtyards and gardens, has been tenantless, the wealthy city that once surrounded it has been swallowed up by the shifting sand, and so completely did Allah sweep away the dogs of Infidels, that even their name is now unknown.”Much interested in this magnificent monument of the Roman occupation, I left Labakan squatting and smoking in its shadow to wander through the ruins. Upon the centre stone of the arched gateway that gave entrance to the great hall I deciphered the inscription “PBO. AFR. ILL.,” (Provincia Africae illustris.) encircled by a coronal, while below was a trace of a chariot and a person in curious attire following it on foot. Besides a representation of an eagle and a few Berber names roughly graven, I could, however, find no other inscription on the portals, so proceeded to examine the grey walls of the inner courts.While thus engaged, a stealthy movement behind me caused me to start suddenly, and as I did so, I beheld my enemy!Silently, with his long, bright knife ready in his hand, he had crept up, and at the very instant I turned he sprang upon me. Ere I could unsheath my poignard, he held my throat in iron grip, and his eyes, flashing like those of some wild animal, were fixed with murderous hatred upon mine.“Thou art at last in the Hall of the Great Death, which is the Grave of the Infidels, and thou shalt die!” he cried, holding his knife uplifted ready to strike.I was held to the spot, stricken by a sudden dread.“So this is how thou treatest the stranger who falleth into thy merciless clutches!” I gasped, scarcely able to articulate, but struggling desperately.“Thou, dog of hell, art no stranger!” he said, with a string of blasphemies. “Thou hast escaped from our camp and brought upon us disaster, defeat, and dishonour. Thou hast obtained actual possession of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, and even at this moment there is concealed upon thy person a secret message to the Hadj Mohammed ben Ishak, of Agadez. Confess where thou hast hidden the Crescent, or thou shalt assuredly die!” His knife was poised aloft; his hand trembled, impatient to strike me down. Yet I was powerless in his grasp!“I cannot tell thee!” I answered.“Thou liest!” he cried. “Dost thou deny also that thou hast any secret message addressed to theimam, upon thee?”“I deny nothing,” I gasped. “It was thee, paltry pilferer, who stole the box from me in thekahouain Algiers; thee who offered Gajére a bag of gold to assist in my murder! I know thee, Labakan! Rest assured, that if thou killest me, my assassination will speedily be avenged.”His fierce, brutal countenance, hideously distorted by uncontrollable anger, broadened into a fiendish grin as, with a loud, defiant laugh, he cried—“Hadj Absalam is Sultan of the Desert, and Labakan his Grand Vizier. We care naught for Infidels who seek to avenge thee, nor for thehomardswho bear arms against us. Speak! Dost thou still refuse to disclose the hiding-place of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, or to deliver unto me thy secret message?”“I do,” I gasped.“Too long then have I tarried and wasted words upon thee, courier of evil!” he shrieked, shaking me in his rage and tightening his painful grip upon my throat. At that moment, however, I succeeded in wrenching free my right hand from the outlaw’s grasp, and, desperately clutching the hilt of my thin, curved blade, unsheathed it. It was a struggle for life. Again he grasped my wrist and held it immovable.“Cur of a Christian! thou who hast sought to bring ill-luck, disaster, and destruction upon us, shalt no longer pollute True Believers with thy baneful presence!” he roared furiously, adding, “Die! rot in the grave of the Infidels that is called the Hall of the Great Death! Curse thee! May Eblis condemn thee and all thine accursed race to the horrible tortures that are eternal, and may Allah burn thy vitals!”“Thou hast brought me here to murder me!” I cried. “Yet I am willing to explain to thee the whereabouts of the Crescent, if thou wilt tell me of the fate of Zoraida, Daughter of the Sun.”“The Lalla Zoraida?” he cried, in surprise. “Then itistrue thou knowest her! We have not been mistaken! Thy dog’s eyes have rested upon her unveiled face; her beauty hath been defiled by thy curious gaze, and she hath spoken with thee, telling thee of wonders the secret of which she was charged to preserve under penalty of death!”“She hath told me nothing,” I answered, still helpless in his murderous grasp. “For many moons have I journeyed over oasis and desert,hamadaand dune, in search of the truth, but nothing, alas! hath been revealed.”“She entrusted to thy keeping the Crescent of Glorious Wonders; she unveiled before thee, an Infidel; therefore the punishment to which she was condemned is just.”“What was her punishment?” I gasped breathlessly. “At least tell me whether she still lives.”“The hand that wrought treacherous deeds was sent thee, so that thou mightest gaze upon the result of thy gallant adventure,” he answered sternly.“Yes, yes, I know. Its sight was horrible!” I said, shuddering, his words bringing back to my memory the cold, dead, bejewelled lingers in all their sickening hideousness.“Disgraced in the eyes of the people of Al-Islâm, untrue to her creed, faithless to her people, she hath already received the just reward of spies and those who play us false. The vengeance of the Ennitra shall also fall upon thee!”“Was she murdered?” I demanded. “Tell me.”“She, the One of Beauty, who was possessed of powers strange and inexplicable, exhibited to thee wonders that none have seen, marvels that she alone was able to work,” he continued, murder lurking in every line of his dark, forbidding countenance. “The Great Secret that hath for generations been so zealously-guarded by our people she gave into thine unscrupulous hands. To thee, a dog of a Christian—upon whom may the wrath of Allah descend—she transferred her power, thus allowing her people to be ignominiously defeated and slaughtered by thehomards. Of the disasters that have fallen upon us, of the misfortune that ever dogs the footprints of those of our men who set out upon expeditions, of all the discomforture that hath been experienced by us; nay, of the terrible doom that hath overtaken the perfidious Daughter of the Sun who entranced thee, thou art the author.”“Merciful Allah!” I cried loudly. “I have been unconscious of having brought catastrophe upon thee. True, I am not of thy creed, but—”“Silence, thou bringer of evil! Let not the name of the One of Might pass thy polluted lips,” he cried, glaring into my face with fierce, passionate anger. “To thee we owe the loss of the Marvellous Crescent. With it our good fortune hath departed. Crushed by defeat, the downfall of Hadj Absalam seemeth imminent, owing to the false, fickle sorceress Zoraida—may Allah burn the hell-vixen!—having fallen under thine amorous glances. Upon thee her power hath fallen, and as thou refusest to give back to us that which is our own, thou shalt not live to witness the rising of to-morrow’s sun.”“Doth thy Korân teach thee to murder those who are innocent?” I shouted in a tone of reproach, struggling strenuously, but in vain, to free my hand.“The Book of the Everlasting Will saith that those who fight against the True Believers and study to act corruptly shall be slain, or shall have their hands and feet cut off, and that the Infidel shall have none to help him.”“Loosen thine hold!” I cried again, vainly exerting every muscle. “Felon and outlaw! thou hast seized me by coward stealth, fearing to fight in open combat. If thine hand strikest me, my blood will swiftly be avenged!”“Spawn of a worm! I have brought thee hither to kill thee!” he hissed between his firmly-set teeth. “Christian dog! Son of a dungheap! Thou, whose ill-favoured white features so fascinated the One of Beauty as to cause her to forsake her people and leave them powerless in the hands of their hated enemies—thou hast uttered thy last word! To-morrow thou wilt be carrion for the vultures!”“Curse thee, cut-throat!” I shrieked, turning my dagger upon him, but only succeeding in inflicting a gash upon his brown wrist. “Thou, brigand of bloody deeds, hast followed me here into the distant desert to assassinate me secretly, to satisfy thy craving for the shedding of blood, but I prophesy that thou wilt—”In the terrible death-embrace the words froze on my parched lips. His brown, sinewy arm fell swiftly between my aching eyes and the golden blaze of sunlight. A sharp twinge in the breast told me the horrible truth, and the hideous, dirty, repulsive face glaring into mine seemed slowly to fade into the dark red mist by which everything was suddenly overspread.I felt myself falling, and clutched frantically for support, but with a nauseating giddiness reeled backwards upon the sand.A rough hand searched the inner pocket of my gandoura, and tore from my breast my little leathern charm-case, without which no Arab travels. Upon my ears, harsh and discordant, a short, exultant laugh sounded hollow and distant.Next second a grim shadow fell, enveloping me in a darkness that blotted out all consciousness.

Labakan’s appearance was just as unkempt, his burnouse just as ragged, as on the day he snatched from me the box containing the horrible souvenir. As we rode side by side into the shadowless plain, he addressed many ingenious questions to me about my past. His thinly-veiled curiosity, however, I steadfastly refused to satisfy. That he knew more of me than I had imagined was quite apparent, otherwise he would not have taken such infinite pains to secure my escape from the palace of the Sultan. Puzzled over his strange conduct, I journeyed with him throughout the greater part of the day. Conversing pleasantly, and making many observations that contained a certain amount of dry humour, he never for a moment acted in a manner to cause me further misgivings. With the craftiness characteristic of his piratical tribe, he was endeavouring to disarm any suspicions I might perchance entertain, if—as to him seemed impossible—I recognised him as the man who followed me into the littlekahouain the far-distant city.

After nearly five hours on the level, sandy plain, under the torrid rays of a leaden sun, we passed along a valley, desolate and barren, until we had on our left a broad mount, rising first with gradual ascent, but in its upper part forming a steep and lofty wall. Then, having passed a small defile and crossed another valley, we gained the open, stonyhamada(plateau) again, and travelled on until, in the far distance, I detected a great, gaunt ruin. Plodding onward wearily through the furnace-heat of sunshine, we reached it about two hours later, and halted under its crumbling walls.

Like a solitary beacon of civilisation, the ruined arches of a great stronghold rose over the sea-like level of desolation which spread out to an immense distance south and west. The rugged, uneven valley below, with its green strip of herbage, continued far into the stony level, and beyond, northwards, the desolate waste stretched towards a great dark mountain.

Astonished, I stood gazing at the spacious dimensions of this time-worn relic of the power of the ancients. It seemed half a castle, half a temple, built of hewn stone, without cement, and ornamented with Corinthian columns. Apparently the place had suffered considerably by the depredations of the Arabs, who, during succeeding centuries, had carried away most of the sculptures; nevertheless, there was much about this relic of a bygone age to excite curiosity, and to cause one to recollect the fact that years before our era the Romans had penetrated as far as that place. That their dominion was not of a mere transitory nature the ruin seemed clearly to show, for it had nearly two thousand years ago been a great castle, and, no doubt, a centre of a departed and forgotten civilisation. Yet to-day this region is unknown to European geographers, and upon both English and French maps of the Great Sahara it is left a wide blank marked “Desert.”

Of Labakan I learnt that it was known to his people as the Hall of the Great Death. According to the Arab legend he related, a Christian ruler called the White Sultan, who lived there ages ago, once made war upon the Sultan of the Tsâd, defeating him, and capturing his daughter, a girl of wondrous beauty. Intoxicated by success, and heavily laden with booty, the White Sultan returned to his own stronghold, followed, however, by the defeated monarch, who travelled alone and in disguise. Attired as a magician, he obtained audience of his enemy, then suddenly threw off his disguise and demanded the return of his daughter. But the White Sultan jeered at him, refused to part with the pearl of his harem, and ordered the sorrowing father to leave his presence, or be consigned to a dungeon. He withdrew, but as he went he cast his ring of graven jacinths upon the ground, and prophesied that ere two moons had run their course, a disaster, terrible and crushing, would fall upon his Infidel foe. Then, retiring to a cavern, he lived as a hermit, and through the months of Choubát and Adâr, for fifty-nine nights and fifty-nine days, he invoked continuously the wrath of the Wrathful upon his enemy. On the sixtieth day his prophecy was fulfilled, for a terrible fire from heaven smote the palace of the White Ruler, and the poisonous fumes from the burning pile spread death and desolation throughout the land. Through the whole of the White Sultan’s broad domains the death-dealing vapours wafted, and the people, the wise men, ministers, and the Sultan himself, all fell victims to the awful visitation. The only person spared an agonising death was the daughter of the Sultan of the Tsâd, who, after the fire was subdued, found the treasure stolen from her father untouched, and carried it back with her to the shores of the Great Lake. Thus was she avenged.

“Since that day,” added the pirate of the desert, “the Hall of the Great Death, with its courtyards and gardens, has been tenantless, the wealthy city that once surrounded it has been swallowed up by the shifting sand, and so completely did Allah sweep away the dogs of Infidels, that even their name is now unknown.”

Much interested in this magnificent monument of the Roman occupation, I left Labakan squatting and smoking in its shadow to wander through the ruins. Upon the centre stone of the arched gateway that gave entrance to the great hall I deciphered the inscription “PBO. AFR. ILL.,” (Provincia Africae illustris.) encircled by a coronal, while below was a trace of a chariot and a person in curious attire following it on foot. Besides a representation of an eagle and a few Berber names roughly graven, I could, however, find no other inscription on the portals, so proceeded to examine the grey walls of the inner courts.

While thus engaged, a stealthy movement behind me caused me to start suddenly, and as I did so, I beheld my enemy!

Silently, with his long, bright knife ready in his hand, he had crept up, and at the very instant I turned he sprang upon me. Ere I could unsheath my poignard, he held my throat in iron grip, and his eyes, flashing like those of some wild animal, were fixed with murderous hatred upon mine.

“Thou art at last in the Hall of the Great Death, which is the Grave of the Infidels, and thou shalt die!” he cried, holding his knife uplifted ready to strike.

I was held to the spot, stricken by a sudden dread.

“So this is how thou treatest the stranger who falleth into thy merciless clutches!” I gasped, scarcely able to articulate, but struggling desperately.

“Thou, dog of hell, art no stranger!” he said, with a string of blasphemies. “Thou hast escaped from our camp and brought upon us disaster, defeat, and dishonour. Thou hast obtained actual possession of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, and even at this moment there is concealed upon thy person a secret message to the Hadj Mohammed ben Ishak, of Agadez. Confess where thou hast hidden the Crescent, or thou shalt assuredly die!” His knife was poised aloft; his hand trembled, impatient to strike me down. Yet I was powerless in his grasp!

“I cannot tell thee!” I answered.

“Thou liest!” he cried. “Dost thou deny also that thou hast any secret message addressed to theimam, upon thee?”

“I deny nothing,” I gasped. “It was thee, paltry pilferer, who stole the box from me in thekahouain Algiers; thee who offered Gajére a bag of gold to assist in my murder! I know thee, Labakan! Rest assured, that if thou killest me, my assassination will speedily be avenged.”

His fierce, brutal countenance, hideously distorted by uncontrollable anger, broadened into a fiendish grin as, with a loud, defiant laugh, he cried—

“Hadj Absalam is Sultan of the Desert, and Labakan his Grand Vizier. We care naught for Infidels who seek to avenge thee, nor for thehomardswho bear arms against us. Speak! Dost thou still refuse to disclose the hiding-place of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, or to deliver unto me thy secret message?”

“I do,” I gasped.

“Too long then have I tarried and wasted words upon thee, courier of evil!” he shrieked, shaking me in his rage and tightening his painful grip upon my throat. At that moment, however, I succeeded in wrenching free my right hand from the outlaw’s grasp, and, desperately clutching the hilt of my thin, curved blade, unsheathed it. It was a struggle for life. Again he grasped my wrist and held it immovable.

“Cur of a Christian! thou who hast sought to bring ill-luck, disaster, and destruction upon us, shalt no longer pollute True Believers with thy baneful presence!” he roared furiously, adding, “Die! rot in the grave of the Infidels that is called the Hall of the Great Death! Curse thee! May Eblis condemn thee and all thine accursed race to the horrible tortures that are eternal, and may Allah burn thy vitals!”

“Thou hast brought me here to murder me!” I cried. “Yet I am willing to explain to thee the whereabouts of the Crescent, if thou wilt tell me of the fate of Zoraida, Daughter of the Sun.”

“The Lalla Zoraida?” he cried, in surprise. “Then itistrue thou knowest her! We have not been mistaken! Thy dog’s eyes have rested upon her unveiled face; her beauty hath been defiled by thy curious gaze, and she hath spoken with thee, telling thee of wonders the secret of which she was charged to preserve under penalty of death!”

“She hath told me nothing,” I answered, still helpless in his murderous grasp. “For many moons have I journeyed over oasis and desert,hamadaand dune, in search of the truth, but nothing, alas! hath been revealed.”

“She entrusted to thy keeping the Crescent of Glorious Wonders; she unveiled before thee, an Infidel; therefore the punishment to which she was condemned is just.”

“What was her punishment?” I gasped breathlessly. “At least tell me whether she still lives.”

“The hand that wrought treacherous deeds was sent thee, so that thou mightest gaze upon the result of thy gallant adventure,” he answered sternly.

“Yes, yes, I know. Its sight was horrible!” I said, shuddering, his words bringing back to my memory the cold, dead, bejewelled lingers in all their sickening hideousness.

“Disgraced in the eyes of the people of Al-Islâm, untrue to her creed, faithless to her people, she hath already received the just reward of spies and those who play us false. The vengeance of the Ennitra shall also fall upon thee!”

“Was she murdered?” I demanded. “Tell me.”

“She, the One of Beauty, who was possessed of powers strange and inexplicable, exhibited to thee wonders that none have seen, marvels that she alone was able to work,” he continued, murder lurking in every line of his dark, forbidding countenance. “The Great Secret that hath for generations been so zealously-guarded by our people she gave into thine unscrupulous hands. To thee, a dog of a Christian—upon whom may the wrath of Allah descend—she transferred her power, thus allowing her people to be ignominiously defeated and slaughtered by thehomards. Of the disasters that have fallen upon us, of the misfortune that ever dogs the footprints of those of our men who set out upon expeditions, of all the discomforture that hath been experienced by us; nay, of the terrible doom that hath overtaken the perfidious Daughter of the Sun who entranced thee, thou art the author.”

“Merciful Allah!” I cried loudly. “I have been unconscious of having brought catastrophe upon thee. True, I am not of thy creed, but—”

“Silence, thou bringer of evil! Let not the name of the One of Might pass thy polluted lips,” he cried, glaring into my face with fierce, passionate anger. “To thee we owe the loss of the Marvellous Crescent. With it our good fortune hath departed. Crushed by defeat, the downfall of Hadj Absalam seemeth imminent, owing to the false, fickle sorceress Zoraida—may Allah burn the hell-vixen!—having fallen under thine amorous glances. Upon thee her power hath fallen, and as thou refusest to give back to us that which is our own, thou shalt not live to witness the rising of to-morrow’s sun.”

“Doth thy Korân teach thee to murder those who are innocent?” I shouted in a tone of reproach, struggling strenuously, but in vain, to free my hand.

“The Book of the Everlasting Will saith that those who fight against the True Believers and study to act corruptly shall be slain, or shall have their hands and feet cut off, and that the Infidel shall have none to help him.”

“Loosen thine hold!” I cried again, vainly exerting every muscle. “Felon and outlaw! thou hast seized me by coward stealth, fearing to fight in open combat. If thine hand strikest me, my blood will swiftly be avenged!”

“Spawn of a worm! I have brought thee hither to kill thee!” he hissed between his firmly-set teeth. “Christian dog! Son of a dungheap! Thou, whose ill-favoured white features so fascinated the One of Beauty as to cause her to forsake her people and leave them powerless in the hands of their hated enemies—thou hast uttered thy last word! To-morrow thou wilt be carrion for the vultures!”

“Curse thee, cut-throat!” I shrieked, turning my dagger upon him, but only succeeding in inflicting a gash upon his brown wrist. “Thou, brigand of bloody deeds, hast followed me here into the distant desert to assassinate me secretly, to satisfy thy craving for the shedding of blood, but I prophesy that thou wilt—”

In the terrible death-embrace the words froze on my parched lips. His brown, sinewy arm fell swiftly between my aching eyes and the golden blaze of sunlight. A sharp twinge in the breast told me the horrible truth, and the hideous, dirty, repulsive face glaring into mine seemed slowly to fade into the dark red mist by which everything was suddenly overspread.

I felt myself falling, and clutched frantically for support, but with a nauseating giddiness reeled backwards upon the sand.

A rough hand searched the inner pocket of my gandoura, and tore from my breast my little leathern charm-case, without which no Arab travels. Upon my ears, harsh and discordant, a short, exultant laugh sounded hollow and distant.

Next second a grim shadow fell, enveloping me in a darkness that blotted out all consciousness.

Chapter Thirty One.Kaylúlah.Insanity had seized me. Dimly conscious of the horrible truth, I longed for release by death from the awful torture racking me.The pain was excruciating. In my agony every nerve seemed lacerated, every muscle paralysed, every joint dislocated. My brain was on fire. My lips dry and cracking, my throat parched and contracted, my eyes burning in their sockets, my tongue so swollen that my mouth seemed too small to contain it, and my fevered forehead throbbing, as strange scenes, grim and terrifying, flitted before me. Pursued by hideously-distorted phantoms of the past, I seemed to have been plunged into a veritable Hâwiyat. Forms and faces, incidents and scenes that were familiar rose shadowy and unreal before my pain-racked eyes, only to dissolve in rapid succession. My closest friends mocked and jeered at my discomforture, and those I had known in my brighter youthful days renewed their acquaintance in a manner grotesquely chaotic. In this awful nightmare of delirium scenes were conjured up before me vividly tragical, sometimes actually revolting. Bereft of reason, I was enduring an agony every horror of which still remains graven on the tablets of my memory.Over me blank despair had cast her sable pall, and, reviewing my career, I saw my fond hopes, once so buoyant, crushed and shattered, and the future only a grey, impenetrable mist. My skull seemed filled with molten metal that boiled and bubbled, causing me the most frightful nauseating torment which nothing could relieve, yet with appalling vividness sights, strange and startling, passed in panorama before my unbalanced vision. By turns I witnessed incidents picturesque, grotesque, and ghastly, and struggled to articulate the aimless, incoherent chatter of an idiot.Once I had a vision of the green fields, the ploughed land, the tall poplars and stately elms that surrounded my far-off English home. The old Norman tower of the church, grey and lichen-covered, under the shadow of which rested my ancestors, the old-fashioned windmill that formed so prominent a feature in the landscape, the long, straggling village street, with its ivy-covered parsonage and its homely cottages with tiny dormer windows peeping forth from under the thatch, were all before my eyes, and, notwithstanding the acute pain that racked me, I became entranced by the rural peace of the typical English scene to which I had, as if by magic, been transported. Years had passed since I had last trodden that quaint old street; indeed, amid the Bohemian gaieties of the Quartier Latin, the ease and idleness of life beyond the Pyrenees, and the perpetual excitement consequent on “roughing it” among the Arabs and Moors, its remembrance had become almost obliterated. Yet in a few brief seconds I lived again my childhood days, days when that ancient village constituted my world; a world in which Society was represented by a jovial but occasionally-resident city merchant, an energetic parson, a merry and popular doctor, and a tall, stately, white-haired gentleman who lived in a house which somebody had nicknamed “Spy-corner,” and who, on account of his commanding presence, was known to his intimates as “The Sultan.”I fancied myself moving again among friends I had known from my birth, amid surroundings that were peaceful, refreshing, and altogether charming. But the chimera faded all too quickly. Green fields were succeeded by desolate stretches of shifting sand, where there was not a blade of grass, not a tree, not a living thing, and where I stood alone and unsheltered from the fierce, merciless rays of the African sun. Fine sand whirled up by the hot, stifling wind filled my eyes, mouth, and nostrils, and I was faint with hunger and consumed by an unquenchable thirst. Abnormal incidents, full of horror, crowded themselves upon my disordered intellect. I thought myself again in the hands of the brutal Pirates of the Desert, condemned by Hadj Absalam to all the frightful tortures his ingenious mind could devise. Black writhing asps played before my face, scorpions were about me, and vultures, hovering above, flapped their great wings impatient to devour the carrion. I cried out, I shouted, I raved, in the hope that someone would release me from the ever-increasing horrors, but I was alone in that great barren wilderness, with life fast ebbing. The agonies were awful! My brain was aflame, my head throbbed, feeling as if every moment it must burst, and upon me hung a terrible weight that crushed my senses, rendering me powerless.Visions, confused and unintelligible, passed in rapid succession before my aching eyes, and I became awestricken by their revolting hideousness. The dark, villainous face of Labakan grinned at me exultingly, and the scarred, sinister visage of Hadj Absalam, the mighty Ruler of the Desert, regarded my agonies with a fierce, horrible expression, in which the spirit of murder was vividly delineated. Suddenly despair gave place to joy. Demented and rambling, I imagined that my hand was grasping the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, the lost talisman that would restore me to happiness with the woman I loved. But, alas! it was only for a brief second, for next moment in a sudden pang of excruciating pain a darkness fell, and everything, even my physical torment, suddenly faded.I think I must have slept.Of time I had no idea, my mind having lost its balance. My lapse into unconsciousness may have lasted for minutes or for days, for aught I knew. At last, however, I found myself again wrestling with the terrible calenture of the brain. My temples throbbed painfully, my throat was so contracted that I scarce could swallow, and across my breast acute pains shot like knife-stabs.Dazed and half conscious, I lay in a kind of stupor. In the red mist before my heavy, fevered eyes a woman’s countenance gradually assumed shape. The pale, beautiful face of Zoraida, every feature of which was distinct and vivid, gazed upon me with dark, wide-open, serious eyes. Across her white brow hung the golden sequins and roughly-cut gems, and upon her bare breast jewels seemed to flash with brilliant fires that blinded me. Nearer she bent towards me, and her bare arm slid around my neck in affectionate embrace.Almost beside myself with joy, I tried to speak, to greet her, to tell her of the treachery of the outlaw who had struck me down; but my lips refused to utter sound. Again I exerted every effort to articulate one word—her name—but could not. A spell of dumbness seemed to have fallen upon me! Her lips moved; she spoke, but her words were unintelligible. Again I tried to speak, yet, alas! only a dull rattle proceeded from my parched throat. Upon her face, flawless in its beauty, there was an expression of unutterable sorrow, a woeful look of blank despair, as slowly and solemnly she shook her head. Her arm rose, and its sight shocked me. The hand had been lopped off at the wrist! Then, with her beautiful eyes still fixed upon mine, she bent still closer, until I felt her lips press softly upon my cheek.Her passionate kiss electrified me. From my brain the weight seemed suddenly lifted, as the phantom of the woman I loved faded slowly from my entranced gaze. So distinctly had I seen her that I could have sworn she was by my side. Her warm caress that I had been unable to return, was still fresh upon my cheek, the tinkle of her sequins sounded in my ears. The sweet breath of attar of rose and geranium filled my nostrils, and the fair face, full of a poignant, ever-present sorrow, lived in my memory.Thus, slowly and painfully, I struggled back to consciousness.It was sunset when the villain Labakan struck me down, but, judging from the brilliance of the bar of sunlight that fell across me when at last I opened my eyes, it was about noon. At least twenty hours must have elapsed since I had fallen under the assassin’s knife; perhaps, indeed, two whole days had run their course!As I stretched my cramped, aching limbs, a sudden spasm shot through my breast, causing me to place my hand involuntarily there, and I was amazed to discover that my gandoura had been torn open and my wound hastily but skilfully bandaged with strips torn from a clean white burnouse. Who could have thus rendered me aid? Labakan certainly had not, therefore it was equally apparent that some other person had discovered and befriended me. Again I glanced at the bandages in which I was swathed, and found they were fastened by large jewelled pins that were essentially articles of feminine adornment. It seemed cool and dimly-lit where I was lying, and presently, when full consciousness returned, I made out that I was in a subterranean chamber built of stone and lighted from the top by a crevice through which the ray of sunlight strayed. Let into the dark walls were iron rings. They showed that the place was a dungeon!With some of my clothing removed and my body covered by a coarse rug, I was lying upon a broad stone bench, and when presently I felt sufficiently strong to investigate, I was astonished to discover that my couch had been rendered comfortable by a pile of silken and woollen garments—evidently the contents of a woman’s wardrobe—which had been placed on the stone before I had been laid thereon. Upon the floor beside me lay a small skin of water, some dates, Moorish biscuits, and sweetmeats. Whoever had brought me there had done all in their power to secure my bodily comfort, and it seemed evident that I owed it all to a woman. Apparently she had emptied the contents of her camel’s bags in order to make me a bed, for my head was pillowed on one of the soft silken cushions of ajakfi, and the blanket that covered me bore a crude representation of Fathma’s hand in order to avert the evil eye.(Jakfi: A kind of cage mounted on a camel in which the wealthier Arabs carry their wives across the desert. Sometimes called ashugduf.)Who, I wondered, had snatched me from the grave and placed me in that silent underground tomb?The painful throbbing in my head that had caused my temporary madness was now gradually abating, and after considerable difficulty I succeeded in raising myself upon my elbow, gazing anxiously on all sides with calm consciousness. The opposite end of the curious stone chamber was plunged in cavernous darkness, and I strained my eyes to ascertain what mystery might there be hidden. While doing so, my gaze fell upon a piece of paper which lay upon the water-skin close to my hand. Taking it up eagerly, I held it in the golden streak of sunshine, and saw upon it Arabic characters that had been rudely traced, apparently with a piece of charred wood. After considerable difficulty, on account of the hurried manner in which the words had been scrawled, I deciphered it to be a message which read as follows:—“Praise be to Allah, opener of locks with His name and withdrawer of veils of hidden things with His beneficence. Upon thee, O stranger from beyond seas, be the best of blessings, and salutation, and perfect peace. O Elucidator of the Great Mystery, know thou that a friend hath given thee succour and will not forsake thee, even though the vials of murderous wrath have been poured out upon thee. If thou readest these words, hope for thou mayest yet confound the plots of thine enemies and discover that which thou seekest. Though strange things may meet thine eyes, fear not, for in the darkness there is yet light. Thy presence will be demanded ere long. Therefore rest and recover, in the knowledge that thou art under the secret protection of an unknown friend. Praise be upon thee, and may Allah’s wrath fall heavily upon those who seek thy destruction!”A sudden faintness again seized me. The paper fell from my nerveless grasp, as with a strange, sinking feeling I lapsed again into unconsciousness. Hours must have passed; how many I know not, but when I again awoke, the grey light of early dawn was struggling through the small crevice. My wound felt easier, and, supporting myself upon one arm, I drank a few drops of water from the skin. Close to my hand I found a tiny paper packet bearing the label of a French pharmacy in Constantine which showed it to contain quinine. The drug would, I thought, prove beneficial to me, so I swallowed some of the powder, and ate two or three dates to remove the bitter taste. As the light increased, and I found myself in full possession of my faculties, I re-read the mysterious message, and commenced a minute examination of my bandages. The latter had been skilfully adjusted, evidently by a woman. With the exception of a dull soreness in my chest, the pain had left me, and my temperature had fallen considerably. The fever had abated, and I felt confident that the drug that had so frequently been of benefit to me in the past would once more prove serviceable. I tried to rise, but could not, therefore I lay throughout that day, vaguely wondering where I was and how I came to be there alone, yet not uncared for. My eyes fixed themselves upon the impenetrable darkness of the opposite end of the mysterious chamber, vainly striving to pierce the gloom. Now and then a lizard or some other reptile would emerge from the crevices and scuttle along over the stones in search of food, otherwise there prevailed the dead silence of the tomb.I desired to rise, in order to ascertain whether I was actually a prisoner. The entrance to the strange chamber was apparently at the opposite end, hidden in the darkness. As the light grew stronger, I examined the walls, finding they were constructed of huge blocks of stone now black with age. Indeed, my surroundings were decidedly uncanny, and although the place was cool, yet light and air would have been preferable. Satisfying my hunger with someajwah(dates stoned and pressed into a paste) andkahk, (a kind of bread), I spent the day in alternate dozing and silent thoughtfulness until the single ray of sunlight disappeared, and night crept slowly on. For hours I slept, and when I awoke refreshed, it was again day. My wound seemed even less painful, and, having eaten and drawn some water from the skin, I succeeded, after some difficulty, in rising. The woman’s dresses of silk and gauze that had formed my couch were sadly creased and tumbled, and upon some of them were dark, ugly stains where blood had flowed from my breast.But it was my intention to explore thoroughly and without delay the sepulchral place into which I had been so mysteriously introduced. I had not the slightest knowledge of where I was; and could only suppose that some persons, having found me, had taken me to that chamber, and, being compelled to continue their way, had left all they could devise for my comfort. Yet, whoever had done this knew me, and was well aware of the object of my journey, facts which were plainly proved by the message traced in charcoal.Girding my loins with my sash, and sticking into it the jewelled-hilted knife which I found lying near, I started, with unsteady gait caused by weakness, on a tour of investigation. With my feet falling noiselessly upon the dust of years, I strode to the opposite end of the chamber, where the light did not penetrate, and then discovered that it led into a second chamber of about the same size, situated at right angles with the one I had been occupying. At the further end of this bare, gloomy apartment a faint glimmer showed in the arched roof, where the light struggled through between a long but narrow space between the massive masonry. Groping onward, my foot suddenly caught some object, and, stumbling, I fell prone upon my face. As I put out my hand to break the fall, I grasped something, over which a moment later I ran my hands to ascertain its nature. Horrified, I drew back with a cry.My fingers had touched a heap of bones!Regaining my feet, I stood for a few moments in hesitation, but ere I stepped over the obstruction to move forward, my eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, and then, where the shaft of uncertain light struck the wall a grim and startling spectacle met my gaze. Lying in a niche similar to that in which I had spent so many hours of agony and unconsciousness was a complete human skeleton! With the grey light struggling through the roof and falling full upon it, the remains presented an appearance hideous and ghastly. The lower part of the skull had fallen away, an arm had dropped off, and the cavities where eyes once gleamed gave the upturned skull a hideous appearance. A wisp of long dark hair, twisted and matted, was still attached to the skin of the skull, a portion of which seemed mummified, and upon the thin finger-bones that rested upon the stone some rings of gold and tarnished silver still remained. By the length of the hair, the character of the rings, and the fact that on one of the ankles there still remained a bangle, it was apparent that the remains were those of a woman.Approaching closer, I examined the bones, and found a small collar of iron encircling the neck, to which was attached a chain that was riveted to a ring in the wall a few feet away. The woman, whoever she had been, had died in captivity.Looking around, I was surprised to notice another object crouched down against the wall, and this proved on investigation to be the skeleton of a second woman, chained like the first, and who had evidently died while seated cross-legged upon the floor. In the soft dust that had been whirled in by the sandstorms, skulls and bones of all kinds were lying about in profusion, showing that in that dungeon captives were either murdered or starved to death, and that the corpses of previous victims were allowed to remain there and rot within sight of those confined there. What horrors must those prisoners have suffered, compelled to spend day and night with a body in the most hideous stages of decay!I stood gazing at the gruesome remains. For several days had I lived in this charnel-house, in ignorance that the bones of the departed were my companions, but now, on discovering the truth, I desired to leave the tomb-like dungeon without delay.Near the skeletons were two saddle-bags apparently well filled, but I did not pause to investigate their contents, for I was too anxious to leave the place. True, the written message; said I should gaze upon strange things, but I had been utterly unprepared for the discovery of these hideous relics of the dead. Onward among the bones with which the place seemed thickly strewn I groped, in eager search of some means of exit, until I came to the wall at the further end of the dark chamber; then, failing to discover any door, I started to go slowly around the place, feeling the walls carefully with both hands. Nearly two hours I spent in a search that was tedious, and which in my enfeebled condition caused my wound to pain me considerably. All, however, was in vain. Noon came and went, and my active fingers travelled rapidly over every portion of the rough, dust-covered walls of the rectangular dungeon, but no trace of a door could I discover, though I made a systematic investigation of every portion of the place. There were no means of escape. It seemed suspiciously as if I had been brought there and walled in to share the fate of the other unfortunate wretches whose whitening bones told so horrible a tale!Sinking upon the couch that had been arranged for me by unknown hands, I endeavoured to devise some means of extricating myself. If it had been intended that I should die in that gloomy tomb, why had means of sustenance been provided for me; why had my janitors provided me with a bed composed of a woman’s wardrobe? The letter told me to rest and to recover in order to pursue my search. Alas! had I not been pursuing a will-o’-the-wisp? Had I not been actually in Agadez, and passed under the shadow of the mosque, yet unable to seek the oldimamwho held the key to the mystery? The Crescent of Glorious Wonders—the strange object that was to bring Zoraida and me prosperity and happiness—was lost, and, weak and ill, I was now a shattered and rudderless derelict drifting on the lonely sea of despair.Time after time I deciphered the mysterious message I had found by my side when consciousness returned to me, but it brought no satisfaction. Anxious to escape from that grim sepulchre, yet failing to discover any way out, I paced to and fro, wildly agitated. It was indeed strange. I had certainly been brought there, yet there was no door through which I had passed. I examined the whole of the roof minutely as far as I was able, but there was nothing whatever to show that entrance was gained from the top, while every part of the walls was of stone, which led me to the conviction that there was no secret door. Again and again I stumbled onward, with eager hands feeling the ancient, roughly-hewn blocks, but failing to discover anything to raise my hopes. Indeed, as the afternoon wore by and the light slowly faded, I became dejected, feeling that at last I had fallen hopelessly into the hands of enemies who had resolved that, walled up in that sepulchre, I should endure the tortures of hunger and thirst, and afterwards die a horrible and lingering death.I ate only a few mouthfuls ofkahkand took only a few drops of water, just sufficient to moisten my parched throat, for I was determined not to give in without a struggle, and therefore intended to make my supplies last as long as possible. After an elaborate calculation, I arrived at the conclusion that with economy I should have sufficient to sustain life for about a week, therefore I partook only of what was absolutely necessary for subsistence.Through the crack above my couch I could see daylight had faded, and at last, in despair, I cast myself down, wearied and faint, and fell asleep.My wound became very painful, and I think the delirium must have again crept over me, for during the night strange phantoms seemed to haunt me with horrifying vividness, and my mind became partially unbalanced by the mental torture which fastened itself upon me. Through those long dark hours wild words that had neither context nor meaning fell from my fevered lips, as periods of imaginary joy were succeeded by hideous debauches of despair. Consciousness returned after I had indulged in akaylúlah, (a sleep about 9 a.m. It is believed among the Arabs to cause poverty and wretchedness), and when the narrow bar of sunlight fell across me, I rose and ate the few mouthfuls of food I allowed myself. Then once more there commenced a search for means of egress.Every crevice and corner I searched diligently, hoping to discover some secret door; but in an hour I paused to rest. Feeling weaker, for the least exertion overcame me, I suddenly remembered the two saddle-bags, and out of sheer curiosity, and perhaps a desire to occupy my time, resolved to see what they contained. Dragging one of them into the light close to my couch, I drew the knife from my sash and ripped it open. It contained a miscellaneous collection of articles almost valueless, yet to me they were of considerable interest, as they were mostly of European manufacture, and at some time or another had evidently belonged to unfortunate travellers. A couple of watches bore the names of London makers, and there were knives from Sheffield, several British-made revolvers, a sovereign purse, and other things which belonged unmistakably to Western civilisation.After I had turned out the first bag, I dragged in the second and cut it open in a like manner, finding a similar assortment inside. One by one I pulled them out, inspected them, and cast them in a heap upon the floor, when suddenly I grasped some object larger than the rest and drew it forth.Its appearance amazed me. I could scarcely believe my eyes, half persuaded for the moment that I had again lapsed into delirium, and that it was merely a chimera of my disordered imagination. But no, I was in perfect possession of all my senses. My eager, trembling fingers tore open the worm-eaten leathern case, and a second later there was disclosed to my gaze an object which caused me to utter a loud cry of joy.I had regained that for which I had long mourned as lost. Reposing in its case, uninjured and apparently untouched, was that half-hoop of cabalistically-engraven iron upon which all my hopes were founded—the Crescent of Glorious Wonders!

Insanity had seized me. Dimly conscious of the horrible truth, I longed for release by death from the awful torture racking me.

The pain was excruciating. In my agony every nerve seemed lacerated, every muscle paralysed, every joint dislocated. My brain was on fire. My lips dry and cracking, my throat parched and contracted, my eyes burning in their sockets, my tongue so swollen that my mouth seemed too small to contain it, and my fevered forehead throbbing, as strange scenes, grim and terrifying, flitted before me. Pursued by hideously-distorted phantoms of the past, I seemed to have been plunged into a veritable Hâwiyat. Forms and faces, incidents and scenes that were familiar rose shadowy and unreal before my pain-racked eyes, only to dissolve in rapid succession. My closest friends mocked and jeered at my discomforture, and those I had known in my brighter youthful days renewed their acquaintance in a manner grotesquely chaotic. In this awful nightmare of delirium scenes were conjured up before me vividly tragical, sometimes actually revolting. Bereft of reason, I was enduring an agony every horror of which still remains graven on the tablets of my memory.

Over me blank despair had cast her sable pall, and, reviewing my career, I saw my fond hopes, once so buoyant, crushed and shattered, and the future only a grey, impenetrable mist. My skull seemed filled with molten metal that boiled and bubbled, causing me the most frightful nauseating torment which nothing could relieve, yet with appalling vividness sights, strange and startling, passed in panorama before my unbalanced vision. By turns I witnessed incidents picturesque, grotesque, and ghastly, and struggled to articulate the aimless, incoherent chatter of an idiot.

Once I had a vision of the green fields, the ploughed land, the tall poplars and stately elms that surrounded my far-off English home. The old Norman tower of the church, grey and lichen-covered, under the shadow of which rested my ancestors, the old-fashioned windmill that formed so prominent a feature in the landscape, the long, straggling village street, with its ivy-covered parsonage and its homely cottages with tiny dormer windows peeping forth from under the thatch, were all before my eyes, and, notwithstanding the acute pain that racked me, I became entranced by the rural peace of the typical English scene to which I had, as if by magic, been transported. Years had passed since I had last trodden that quaint old street; indeed, amid the Bohemian gaieties of the Quartier Latin, the ease and idleness of life beyond the Pyrenees, and the perpetual excitement consequent on “roughing it” among the Arabs and Moors, its remembrance had become almost obliterated. Yet in a few brief seconds I lived again my childhood days, days when that ancient village constituted my world; a world in which Society was represented by a jovial but occasionally-resident city merchant, an energetic parson, a merry and popular doctor, and a tall, stately, white-haired gentleman who lived in a house which somebody had nicknamed “Spy-corner,” and who, on account of his commanding presence, was known to his intimates as “The Sultan.”

I fancied myself moving again among friends I had known from my birth, amid surroundings that were peaceful, refreshing, and altogether charming. But the chimera faded all too quickly. Green fields were succeeded by desolate stretches of shifting sand, where there was not a blade of grass, not a tree, not a living thing, and where I stood alone and unsheltered from the fierce, merciless rays of the African sun. Fine sand whirled up by the hot, stifling wind filled my eyes, mouth, and nostrils, and I was faint with hunger and consumed by an unquenchable thirst. Abnormal incidents, full of horror, crowded themselves upon my disordered intellect. I thought myself again in the hands of the brutal Pirates of the Desert, condemned by Hadj Absalam to all the frightful tortures his ingenious mind could devise. Black writhing asps played before my face, scorpions were about me, and vultures, hovering above, flapped their great wings impatient to devour the carrion. I cried out, I shouted, I raved, in the hope that someone would release me from the ever-increasing horrors, but I was alone in that great barren wilderness, with life fast ebbing. The agonies were awful! My brain was aflame, my head throbbed, feeling as if every moment it must burst, and upon me hung a terrible weight that crushed my senses, rendering me powerless.

Visions, confused and unintelligible, passed in rapid succession before my aching eyes, and I became awestricken by their revolting hideousness. The dark, villainous face of Labakan grinned at me exultingly, and the scarred, sinister visage of Hadj Absalam, the mighty Ruler of the Desert, regarded my agonies with a fierce, horrible expression, in which the spirit of murder was vividly delineated. Suddenly despair gave place to joy. Demented and rambling, I imagined that my hand was grasping the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, the lost talisman that would restore me to happiness with the woman I loved. But, alas! it was only for a brief second, for next moment in a sudden pang of excruciating pain a darkness fell, and everything, even my physical torment, suddenly faded.

I think I must have slept.

Of time I had no idea, my mind having lost its balance. My lapse into unconsciousness may have lasted for minutes or for days, for aught I knew. At last, however, I found myself again wrestling with the terrible calenture of the brain. My temples throbbed painfully, my throat was so contracted that I scarce could swallow, and across my breast acute pains shot like knife-stabs.

Dazed and half conscious, I lay in a kind of stupor. In the red mist before my heavy, fevered eyes a woman’s countenance gradually assumed shape. The pale, beautiful face of Zoraida, every feature of which was distinct and vivid, gazed upon me with dark, wide-open, serious eyes. Across her white brow hung the golden sequins and roughly-cut gems, and upon her bare breast jewels seemed to flash with brilliant fires that blinded me. Nearer she bent towards me, and her bare arm slid around my neck in affectionate embrace.

Almost beside myself with joy, I tried to speak, to greet her, to tell her of the treachery of the outlaw who had struck me down; but my lips refused to utter sound. Again I exerted every effort to articulate one word—her name—but could not. A spell of dumbness seemed to have fallen upon me! Her lips moved; she spoke, but her words were unintelligible. Again I tried to speak, yet, alas! only a dull rattle proceeded from my parched throat. Upon her face, flawless in its beauty, there was an expression of unutterable sorrow, a woeful look of blank despair, as slowly and solemnly she shook her head. Her arm rose, and its sight shocked me. The hand had been lopped off at the wrist! Then, with her beautiful eyes still fixed upon mine, she bent still closer, until I felt her lips press softly upon my cheek.

Her passionate kiss electrified me. From my brain the weight seemed suddenly lifted, as the phantom of the woman I loved faded slowly from my entranced gaze. So distinctly had I seen her that I could have sworn she was by my side. Her warm caress that I had been unable to return, was still fresh upon my cheek, the tinkle of her sequins sounded in my ears. The sweet breath of attar of rose and geranium filled my nostrils, and the fair face, full of a poignant, ever-present sorrow, lived in my memory.

Thus, slowly and painfully, I struggled back to consciousness.

It was sunset when the villain Labakan struck me down, but, judging from the brilliance of the bar of sunlight that fell across me when at last I opened my eyes, it was about noon. At least twenty hours must have elapsed since I had fallen under the assassin’s knife; perhaps, indeed, two whole days had run their course!

As I stretched my cramped, aching limbs, a sudden spasm shot through my breast, causing me to place my hand involuntarily there, and I was amazed to discover that my gandoura had been torn open and my wound hastily but skilfully bandaged with strips torn from a clean white burnouse. Who could have thus rendered me aid? Labakan certainly had not, therefore it was equally apparent that some other person had discovered and befriended me. Again I glanced at the bandages in which I was swathed, and found they were fastened by large jewelled pins that were essentially articles of feminine adornment. It seemed cool and dimly-lit where I was lying, and presently, when full consciousness returned, I made out that I was in a subterranean chamber built of stone and lighted from the top by a crevice through which the ray of sunlight strayed. Let into the dark walls were iron rings. They showed that the place was a dungeon!

With some of my clothing removed and my body covered by a coarse rug, I was lying upon a broad stone bench, and when presently I felt sufficiently strong to investigate, I was astonished to discover that my couch had been rendered comfortable by a pile of silken and woollen garments—evidently the contents of a woman’s wardrobe—which had been placed on the stone before I had been laid thereon. Upon the floor beside me lay a small skin of water, some dates, Moorish biscuits, and sweetmeats. Whoever had brought me there had done all in their power to secure my bodily comfort, and it seemed evident that I owed it all to a woman. Apparently she had emptied the contents of her camel’s bags in order to make me a bed, for my head was pillowed on one of the soft silken cushions of ajakfi, and the blanket that covered me bore a crude representation of Fathma’s hand in order to avert the evil eye.

(Jakfi: A kind of cage mounted on a camel in which the wealthier Arabs carry their wives across the desert. Sometimes called ashugduf.)

Who, I wondered, had snatched me from the grave and placed me in that silent underground tomb?

The painful throbbing in my head that had caused my temporary madness was now gradually abating, and after considerable difficulty I succeeded in raising myself upon my elbow, gazing anxiously on all sides with calm consciousness. The opposite end of the curious stone chamber was plunged in cavernous darkness, and I strained my eyes to ascertain what mystery might there be hidden. While doing so, my gaze fell upon a piece of paper which lay upon the water-skin close to my hand. Taking it up eagerly, I held it in the golden streak of sunshine, and saw upon it Arabic characters that had been rudely traced, apparently with a piece of charred wood. After considerable difficulty, on account of the hurried manner in which the words had been scrawled, I deciphered it to be a message which read as follows:—

“Praise be to Allah, opener of locks with His name and withdrawer of veils of hidden things with His beneficence. Upon thee, O stranger from beyond seas, be the best of blessings, and salutation, and perfect peace. O Elucidator of the Great Mystery, know thou that a friend hath given thee succour and will not forsake thee, even though the vials of murderous wrath have been poured out upon thee. If thou readest these words, hope for thou mayest yet confound the plots of thine enemies and discover that which thou seekest. Though strange things may meet thine eyes, fear not, for in the darkness there is yet light. Thy presence will be demanded ere long. Therefore rest and recover, in the knowledge that thou art under the secret protection of an unknown friend. Praise be upon thee, and may Allah’s wrath fall heavily upon those who seek thy destruction!”

A sudden faintness again seized me. The paper fell from my nerveless grasp, as with a strange, sinking feeling I lapsed again into unconsciousness. Hours must have passed; how many I know not, but when I again awoke, the grey light of early dawn was struggling through the small crevice. My wound felt easier, and, supporting myself upon one arm, I drank a few drops of water from the skin. Close to my hand I found a tiny paper packet bearing the label of a French pharmacy in Constantine which showed it to contain quinine. The drug would, I thought, prove beneficial to me, so I swallowed some of the powder, and ate two or three dates to remove the bitter taste. As the light increased, and I found myself in full possession of my faculties, I re-read the mysterious message, and commenced a minute examination of my bandages. The latter had been skilfully adjusted, evidently by a woman. With the exception of a dull soreness in my chest, the pain had left me, and my temperature had fallen considerably. The fever had abated, and I felt confident that the drug that had so frequently been of benefit to me in the past would once more prove serviceable. I tried to rise, but could not, therefore I lay throughout that day, vaguely wondering where I was and how I came to be there alone, yet not uncared for. My eyes fixed themselves upon the impenetrable darkness of the opposite end of the mysterious chamber, vainly striving to pierce the gloom. Now and then a lizard or some other reptile would emerge from the crevices and scuttle along over the stones in search of food, otherwise there prevailed the dead silence of the tomb.

I desired to rise, in order to ascertain whether I was actually a prisoner. The entrance to the strange chamber was apparently at the opposite end, hidden in the darkness. As the light grew stronger, I examined the walls, finding they were constructed of huge blocks of stone now black with age. Indeed, my surroundings were decidedly uncanny, and although the place was cool, yet light and air would have been preferable. Satisfying my hunger with someajwah(dates stoned and pressed into a paste) andkahk, (a kind of bread), I spent the day in alternate dozing and silent thoughtfulness until the single ray of sunlight disappeared, and night crept slowly on. For hours I slept, and when I awoke refreshed, it was again day. My wound seemed even less painful, and, having eaten and drawn some water from the skin, I succeeded, after some difficulty, in rising. The woman’s dresses of silk and gauze that had formed my couch were sadly creased and tumbled, and upon some of them were dark, ugly stains where blood had flowed from my breast.

But it was my intention to explore thoroughly and without delay the sepulchral place into which I had been so mysteriously introduced. I had not the slightest knowledge of where I was; and could only suppose that some persons, having found me, had taken me to that chamber, and, being compelled to continue their way, had left all they could devise for my comfort. Yet, whoever had done this knew me, and was well aware of the object of my journey, facts which were plainly proved by the message traced in charcoal.

Girding my loins with my sash, and sticking into it the jewelled-hilted knife which I found lying near, I started, with unsteady gait caused by weakness, on a tour of investigation. With my feet falling noiselessly upon the dust of years, I strode to the opposite end of the chamber, where the light did not penetrate, and then discovered that it led into a second chamber of about the same size, situated at right angles with the one I had been occupying. At the further end of this bare, gloomy apartment a faint glimmer showed in the arched roof, where the light struggled through between a long but narrow space between the massive masonry. Groping onward, my foot suddenly caught some object, and, stumbling, I fell prone upon my face. As I put out my hand to break the fall, I grasped something, over which a moment later I ran my hands to ascertain its nature. Horrified, I drew back with a cry.

My fingers had touched a heap of bones!

Regaining my feet, I stood for a few moments in hesitation, but ere I stepped over the obstruction to move forward, my eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, and then, where the shaft of uncertain light struck the wall a grim and startling spectacle met my gaze. Lying in a niche similar to that in which I had spent so many hours of agony and unconsciousness was a complete human skeleton! With the grey light struggling through the roof and falling full upon it, the remains presented an appearance hideous and ghastly. The lower part of the skull had fallen away, an arm had dropped off, and the cavities where eyes once gleamed gave the upturned skull a hideous appearance. A wisp of long dark hair, twisted and matted, was still attached to the skin of the skull, a portion of which seemed mummified, and upon the thin finger-bones that rested upon the stone some rings of gold and tarnished silver still remained. By the length of the hair, the character of the rings, and the fact that on one of the ankles there still remained a bangle, it was apparent that the remains were those of a woman.

Approaching closer, I examined the bones, and found a small collar of iron encircling the neck, to which was attached a chain that was riveted to a ring in the wall a few feet away. The woman, whoever she had been, had died in captivity.

Looking around, I was surprised to notice another object crouched down against the wall, and this proved on investigation to be the skeleton of a second woman, chained like the first, and who had evidently died while seated cross-legged upon the floor. In the soft dust that had been whirled in by the sandstorms, skulls and bones of all kinds were lying about in profusion, showing that in that dungeon captives were either murdered or starved to death, and that the corpses of previous victims were allowed to remain there and rot within sight of those confined there. What horrors must those prisoners have suffered, compelled to spend day and night with a body in the most hideous stages of decay!

I stood gazing at the gruesome remains. For several days had I lived in this charnel-house, in ignorance that the bones of the departed were my companions, but now, on discovering the truth, I desired to leave the tomb-like dungeon without delay.

Near the skeletons were two saddle-bags apparently well filled, but I did not pause to investigate their contents, for I was too anxious to leave the place. True, the written message; said I should gaze upon strange things, but I had been utterly unprepared for the discovery of these hideous relics of the dead. Onward among the bones with which the place seemed thickly strewn I groped, in eager search of some means of exit, until I came to the wall at the further end of the dark chamber; then, failing to discover any door, I started to go slowly around the place, feeling the walls carefully with both hands. Nearly two hours I spent in a search that was tedious, and which in my enfeebled condition caused my wound to pain me considerably. All, however, was in vain. Noon came and went, and my active fingers travelled rapidly over every portion of the rough, dust-covered walls of the rectangular dungeon, but no trace of a door could I discover, though I made a systematic investigation of every portion of the place. There were no means of escape. It seemed suspiciously as if I had been brought there and walled in to share the fate of the other unfortunate wretches whose whitening bones told so horrible a tale!

Sinking upon the couch that had been arranged for me by unknown hands, I endeavoured to devise some means of extricating myself. If it had been intended that I should die in that gloomy tomb, why had means of sustenance been provided for me; why had my janitors provided me with a bed composed of a woman’s wardrobe? The letter told me to rest and to recover in order to pursue my search. Alas! had I not been pursuing a will-o’-the-wisp? Had I not been actually in Agadez, and passed under the shadow of the mosque, yet unable to seek the oldimamwho held the key to the mystery? The Crescent of Glorious Wonders—the strange object that was to bring Zoraida and me prosperity and happiness—was lost, and, weak and ill, I was now a shattered and rudderless derelict drifting on the lonely sea of despair.

Time after time I deciphered the mysterious message I had found by my side when consciousness returned to me, but it brought no satisfaction. Anxious to escape from that grim sepulchre, yet failing to discover any way out, I paced to and fro, wildly agitated. It was indeed strange. I had certainly been brought there, yet there was no door through which I had passed. I examined the whole of the roof minutely as far as I was able, but there was nothing whatever to show that entrance was gained from the top, while every part of the walls was of stone, which led me to the conviction that there was no secret door. Again and again I stumbled onward, with eager hands feeling the ancient, roughly-hewn blocks, but failing to discover anything to raise my hopes. Indeed, as the afternoon wore by and the light slowly faded, I became dejected, feeling that at last I had fallen hopelessly into the hands of enemies who had resolved that, walled up in that sepulchre, I should endure the tortures of hunger and thirst, and afterwards die a horrible and lingering death.

I ate only a few mouthfuls ofkahkand took only a few drops of water, just sufficient to moisten my parched throat, for I was determined not to give in without a struggle, and therefore intended to make my supplies last as long as possible. After an elaborate calculation, I arrived at the conclusion that with economy I should have sufficient to sustain life for about a week, therefore I partook only of what was absolutely necessary for subsistence.

Through the crack above my couch I could see daylight had faded, and at last, in despair, I cast myself down, wearied and faint, and fell asleep.

My wound became very painful, and I think the delirium must have again crept over me, for during the night strange phantoms seemed to haunt me with horrifying vividness, and my mind became partially unbalanced by the mental torture which fastened itself upon me. Through those long dark hours wild words that had neither context nor meaning fell from my fevered lips, as periods of imaginary joy were succeeded by hideous debauches of despair. Consciousness returned after I had indulged in akaylúlah, (a sleep about 9 a.m. It is believed among the Arabs to cause poverty and wretchedness), and when the narrow bar of sunlight fell across me, I rose and ate the few mouthfuls of food I allowed myself. Then once more there commenced a search for means of egress.

Every crevice and corner I searched diligently, hoping to discover some secret door; but in an hour I paused to rest. Feeling weaker, for the least exertion overcame me, I suddenly remembered the two saddle-bags, and out of sheer curiosity, and perhaps a desire to occupy my time, resolved to see what they contained. Dragging one of them into the light close to my couch, I drew the knife from my sash and ripped it open. It contained a miscellaneous collection of articles almost valueless, yet to me they were of considerable interest, as they were mostly of European manufacture, and at some time or another had evidently belonged to unfortunate travellers. A couple of watches bore the names of London makers, and there were knives from Sheffield, several British-made revolvers, a sovereign purse, and other things which belonged unmistakably to Western civilisation.

After I had turned out the first bag, I dragged in the second and cut it open in a like manner, finding a similar assortment inside. One by one I pulled them out, inspected them, and cast them in a heap upon the floor, when suddenly I grasped some object larger than the rest and drew it forth.

Its appearance amazed me. I could scarcely believe my eyes, half persuaded for the moment that I had again lapsed into delirium, and that it was merely a chimera of my disordered imagination. But no, I was in perfect possession of all my senses. My eager, trembling fingers tore open the worm-eaten leathern case, and a second later there was disclosed to my gaze an object which caused me to utter a loud cry of joy.

I had regained that for which I had long mourned as lost. Reposing in its case, uninjured and apparently untouched, was that half-hoop of cabalistically-engraven iron upon which all my hopes were founded—the Crescent of Glorious Wonders!

Chapter Thirty Two.The Ghuzzat of the Senousya.Grasping the Crescent with both hands, I examined it minutely, convincing myself that it actually was the strange object that Zoraida had given me. I recognised its curious engraving and the undecipherable hieroglyphics that had so puzzled me.How it came to repose where I had discovered it was a profound mystery. Apparently the thief of the Kel-Fadê, who had snatched it from me, had replaced it in its case and pushed it into his saddle-bag along with the miscellaneous proceeds of other raids, and then, by some means, both the bags had been deposited in that chamber for safe keeping. The entrance to that gruesome sepulchre was, no doubt, a hidden mystery, therefore the thief imagined his treasure safe from prying fingers. But I had regained it, and meant to retain possession of it, and to learn the great insolvable Secret even though my life might be jeopardised. If Zoraida still lived, I might, after all, be enabled to carry out her extraordinary commission, and so earn that peace and happiness that was my promised reward. By this thought hope revived within me, as with redoubled energy I endeavoured to detect some means by which to escape. With the Crescent of Glorious Wonders once again in my possession it was my determination to return to Agadez, even at the risk of arrest, and seek Mohammed ben Ishak, the one person in the whole world who could impart to me the abstruse knowledge upon which depended my future. Yet, with the Crescent within my grasp, and only a few days distant from Agadez, I was, nevertheless, an utterly helpless prisoner, doomed to the companionship of the ghastly dead, until I too should pass the threshold of the Silent Kingdom.Through the day I searched for means of exit, unceasingly examining the roof of my prison, but finding nothing to lead me to suppose that a door was concealed. How I had been placed there was a mystery. Once, about noon, I was startled by hearing a voice deep and resonant, yet I reassured myself that it was merely fancy, and that I was alone. After long search, I ate and drank, then sat helpless and dejected, examining my regained prize, which, alas! was still useless to me. To return to Agadez with it in my possession seemed a forlorn hope. All my thoughts centred upon the woman whose grace and beauty held me enmeshed. In a frenzy of madness I rose and paced that silent unknown tomb where hideous, crumbling skeletons seemed to mock me, and where the stillness and gloom were so complete and appalling.Suddenly an object caught my eye that I had not before noticed. Close to the niche in which the bones of one of the victims reposed, an iron ring was fastened in the wall about a foot from the floor. The slanting ray of light from above was falling at that hour quite close to it, revealing that the dust encrusting other parts of the floor had been removed in the vicinity. Upon the white beaten earth there was a large dark stain, about the size of my hand. This aroused my curiosity, for it appeared suspiciously like a stain of blood, and I remembered that my wound was still open when I had been brought there. The thought flashed across my mind that some secret mode of entrance was therein hidden, yet I examined carefully the ring, and found it an ordinary one, evidently used to chain up prisoners, and securely embedded in a huge block of roughly-hewn stone about two feet square.My hands carefully felt the ring, but it was rough and deeply rusted, showing that it had not been used as a handle. It was curious, though, why the dust should have been removed from the floor at that spot, and why at that place only should there remain a trace of blood. With the hilt of my knife I rapped upon the stone, but there was no sound to give rise to further suspicion, neither was there any opening around the block. It fitted closely like the others, and had probably been built in there for centuries.Taking the ring in both hands, I tugged at it, at the same time, however, feeling the effort was useless. The idea of moving a gigantic block of stone of that size was preposterous, and when I found I had expended my strength in vain, I laughed aloud as I wiped my brow. Pausing, I again examined its surroundings minutely. Though there was nothing whatever to show the block was movable, I instinctively felt that some secret mode of exit lay concealed there.Again a voice startled me. Like a muffled wail it sounded, and I was undecided as to whether it might not have been caused by the wind passing over the crevice above that admitted light and air into the charnel-house. Having rested to regain breath, I essayed another attempt. Setting my feet firmly on either side of the block, I threw my whole weight backward, and pulled frantically at the ring of iron. Holding my breath, and setting my teeth firmly, I was exerting every muscle, when suddenly there was a harsh, grating sound.The great block of stone moved forward nearly six inches!In my weak state the smallest exertion produced hard breathing, therefore I was compelled to pause for a few moments in intense anxiety. At last I had discovered the secret!Again I tugged at the great rusty ring, moving it towards me still further. Then, on careful investigation, I discovered that the block of stone was not solid, but formed the front of a great stone drawer, long and narrow like a coffin, and just large enough to admit the body of a man.By dint of herculean effort I drew the great drawer out nearly four feet, then, taking the Crescent of Glorious Wonders in its worm-eaten case, together with someajwahfor sustenance, I entered the coffin-like receptacle. With difficulty I squeezed through the shallow trough, that proved several feet longer than the thickness of the wall, and, to my relief, I found myself, a moment later, in a narrow, subterranean passage, enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. With feet falling silently in the thick white dust, I felt my way along for some distance, taking several abrupt turnings, until strange noises caused me to halt, listening breathlessly.Human voices were raised in a solemn, mournful chant!Noiselessly I crept forward in the darkness, coming at length to a blank wall, and then, turning sharply to the right, a thick plush curtain arrested my progress. Drawing it aside slightly, and with infinite care, I gazed in wonderment upon a scene weird and remarkable. It held me spellbound.The underground apartment was about fifteen feet wide, forty feet long, and nine feet high, with one end slightly raised as a kind of platform. Illumined by a great fire that burned in a sort of brazier in the centre, there were nine flat stones ranged round, and upon these sat aged, white-bearded Arabs. They were councillors of one of the secret societies of Al-Islâm. Around were assembled other younger Sons of the Desert, presenting a strange and weird appearance. Each bore an ostrich feather, stuck in the rope of camel’s hair that encircled his head, and carried in his left hand a green-paintedderbouka.The councillors, swaying their bodies in unison, were uttering strange, monotonous incantations, when suddenly a very old and feeble man, in scarlet burnouse, descended from the platform where he had been enthroned, bearing in his hand a small black snake that writhed and twisted itself around his bony wrist. Advancing to the brazier, he cast the reptile into the fire, and as it was consumed, the whole of those present set up a long, shrill wail.“Accursed be the race of dogs!” they cried. “May the entrails of the Infidels who have over-run the glorious land of the True Believer be burned like yonder serpent, and may the pestilence overtake them. May the vultures lay bare their bones, and may their dust be scattered across the plains, even unto the Great Sea.”The words revealed to me their purpose. During my travels, I had, on many occasions, heard rumours of secret Moslem societies, although their existence had often been denied in the European press, the ParisFigaroexcepted. Frequently had I longed for an opportunity of investigating these associations, formed for the purpose of concerted and decisive action against the Christians, and now, by a most curious circumstance, I found myself present at one of their secret meetings. The most violent and far-reaching of these organisations was, I had been told, the Ghuzzat, a development of an offshoot of the Senousya, and was composed of the wildest fanatics of the Aïssáwà sect who were followers of the elder Senousi, a Shereef, or descendant of the Prophet. Leaving Mecca some years before, the marabout had wandered through Egypt, Tripoli, and Tunis, finally building a largezawya(Hermitage) at El-Beida, near the fountain of Apollo. At that time the Arabs of the province were pagans. He preached against the Christian invaders, healed the sick, performed “miracles,” and established for himself a reputation, so that the Bedouins carried his fame across the Desert, through the Oasis of Ojila-Jalo, into Wadai and Mourzouk, Agadez, and Timbuktu, and even into Morocco. The present head of this society for the simultaneous massacre of all Christians throughout the Soudan, was a descendant of Senousi, named El-Mahdi, and its members were the most mad-brained fanatics, who took oaths upon the Korân to exterminate the dogs of Infidels. (El-Mahdi. Meaning “Led by God.” There are many families of that name in the Sahara.) Thus it was with combined interest and trepidation that I stood gazing upon a remarkable sight that no European had ever before witnessed. Though the Christian invader had been tolerated along the Barbary littoral, it was apparent that the fierce hatred and treachery of Al-Islâm was only stifled, and the teaching of fanatical societies, such as these, was that all Roumis should, in an unguarded moment, be massacred without mercy. Indeed, the weird chant that fell upon my ears at that moment was to the effect that Allah, Requiter of good and evil, bade them rise and revenge the wrongs that followers of the Great Prophet had suffered at the defiling hands of the accursed.The blazing brazier was, I noticed, very similar in shape to that in the mysterious chamber in Algiers, to which Zoraida had conducted me. Could it be that she too was a member of this widespread secret league to secure the extermination of the Christians?The chant concluded, the strange rites of the Ghuzzat (Fighters for the Faith) commenced. After performing asujdah, (a single “prostration,” with the forehead touching the ground, performed from a sitting position), the whole of those present recited the Surat-al-Ikhlas, which is also sometimes called the Kul Huw’ Allah, or the Declaration of Unity, of which the following is the translation:—“Say, He is the one God!The eternal Allah!He begets not, nor is He begot!And unto Him the like is not.”The aged man in the scarlet burnouse, who seemed to be the high priest of the order, turned towards the raised platform, and, amid a sudden silence, clapped his hands. When lo! a curtain at the rear was drawn aside, revealing a kind of small circular hut, built of dried palm branches, with an opening at the top. Those assembled cried aloud, as if in fear, but the priest comforted them with an Ayat, or Korânic verse, and almost at the same moment, eleven men, barefooted, with their burnouses cast aside, marched in single file before the hut.The secret ceremony was a strange admixture of religion and paganism, for, as they descended from the dais and marched round the circle of seated councillors, the chief sprinkled them with blood from the tip of an ostrich feather. Then they were lined up with their backs to the hut, and in the uncertain light shed by the flaming brazier presented a most weird spectacle. Suddenly, at a word from the man in the red robe, the conspirators gathered around, thumped theirderboukas, and set up a plaintive howl, while the eleven kept perfect cadence with the right foot.A slight pause ensued, when the eleven turned and moved onward, until the first—a lad not over ten years of age, apparently just initiated into the mysteries of the foul plot against Europeans—reached the mysterious hut. Then, halting for a second, he deliberately plunged his arm down the hole in the top, and, amid low, guttural expressions of approbation that sounded from all sides, dragged forth a huge serpent, about five feet in length, and the size of a man’s wrist. Struggling desperately, he attempted to hold it about four inches from the head with his teeth, but at first he could not open his mouth wide enough, and this seemed to cause the onlookers considerable anxiety. The head of the reptile was to the left, and to break the dead weight of the great snake, the lad held its writhing body up with his left hand. The boy was not four feet in height, so the contrast was remarkable. At length, however, he succeeded in fastening his teeth firmly in the serpent’s back, and the march and chant were resumed, to the accompaniment of monotonous drumming. The man behind the snake-carrier took his feather from his head and seemed to be chasing the serpent towards the left, so as to keep the reptile’s fangs from the lad’s face.The third man picked out a snake from the little hut and carried it as did the boy, while the fourth acted as the second man did; thus it went on till eight of the men were in motion. By the time the fifth couple were ready to take a snake, the first had completed a few circuits of the space. Then he took the reptile from his mouth and gently threw it upon the ground, where it lay motionless in a state of catalepsy, and, marching round while the onlookers prostrated themselves, murmuring strange incantations, he again reached the hut, and took another of the writhing reptiles. This was continued until all the snakes had been used.Meanwhile, the reptiles that had been thrown at the feet of the silent, statuesque councillors of the order were brushed by feathers by half a dozen men, and then handed one by one to the conspirators grouped around, who gripped them near the head, and, while holding them still and motionless at arm’s length, recited a declaration of adherence to the secret league. When all the snakes had gone through the weird ceremonial, and were in the hands of the dark-faced wanderers of the plains, the grave councillors rose, and their places were taken by a similar number of mysterious-looking women, enveloped from head to foot in black haicks, which entirely covered them, except for the two holes through which their bright eyes peered.As they seated themselves upon the flat stones, the note of the dismal chant was changed to a more shrill one, and the men, led by the venerable chief of the conspirators, formed a circle around them, while each drew from beneath his burnouse aHamáil, or pocket Korân.“The grave is darkness and good deeds are its lamp,” they commenced chanting, moving slowly round the seated women. Then followed a supplication which commenced, “O Prince! O Ruler! O Ancient of Benefits! O Omniscient! O Lord of the Three Worlds! O Thou who givest when asked, and who aidest when Aid is required, receive this our prostration, and preserve us from dangers, and make easy our Affairs, and broaden our Breasts.”From the remainder of their remarkable prayer I gathered that as they, the Ghuzzat of the Senousya, had been able to hold in submission the venomous serpents in their hands, so would they, on the day when the standard of revolt was raised in Algeria, in Tunis, and in Egypt, hold in their clutches the swaggering Roumis who had defiled their land. Then, as they proceeded one after another to kill the reptiles, they declared, with one accord, that with as little compunction as they now treated these snakes, so would they slaughter without mercy the men, women, and children of the Infidels. Their extermination, like vermin, would alone, they declared, “bring coolness to the eyes of True Believers.”Suddenly, almost before I was aware of it, the eyes of the aged chief met mine! I had, in my eager desire to witness the strange scenes, indiscreetly pulled back the curtain too far, revealing the whole of my head!The high priest, clapping his hands, produced in a moment a dead silence.“Lo!” he shouted in a loud voice. “My sons and daughters, prying eyes have fallen upon us. We are discovered!”His words produced an effect that was electrical. Fifty voices, with one accord, demanded further explanation.“We have, O children, been watched from behind yonder curtain!” he cried. “Our secret is known!”I waited for no more. A dozen fierce fanatics dashed towards the spot where I had been standing, but without thinking of any place of refuge, I plunged down the dark passage. In a second I was pursued. Oaths and vows of vengeance sounded behind me, and with the Crescent of Glorious Wonders grasped tightly in my hand, I sped onward until I ran headlong against a wall. Turning quickly at right angles, I found another long, unlighted subterranean passage. Dashing headlong down it, I turned to right and then to left through its intricate windings, and as the footsteps of my pursuers sounded behind me, I suddenly became aware that I was retracing my steps to my tomb-like dungeon. From those who sought me I could expect no mercy. Death only could expiate my crime. I had discovered the intentions of Al-Islâm, and even though I might declare myself a follower of the Prophet, I had not been initiated into the mysteries of the Ghuzzat, and would therefore be put to death as a spy.The fierce fanatics, with knives unsheathed, were at my heels, and, redoubling my speed, I tore along, stumbling over the rough floor and grazing both legs and arms in my wild flight. To strike me down the conspirators were straining every muscle, yet I managed to keep on, until, taking two sudden turns immediately after one another, I remembered that I was near the entrance to the secret chamber.It was my only chance. If they were unaware of the existence of the charnel-house with its crumbling bones, then, perchance, I might escape. In the darkness I could distinguish nothing. What if I had passed the entrance, and came at last to a blank wall! The thought unnerved me. Voices behind me sounded harsh and deep, still I dashed onward until my feet caught in something, and, stumbling, I fell.I knew the accident must result in my death. In a few moments the keen knives of the conspirators must reach my heart.My hands came into contact with stone. Frantically I grasped it, realising with gratification that I had fallen over the great coffin-like drawer that gave entrance to my prison. In a second I recovered myself, and, entering the half-open trough, crawled through it, with the Crescent still in my hand.Finding myself on the opposite side of the wall, I lost no time in grasping the iron ring, and, with the last strenuous effort of which I was capable, succeeded in dragging the drawer towards me. It was done on the impulse of the moment; then I waited, not daring to breathe.Hurrying footsteps sounded outside, with shouts of “Death to the spy! He holdeth our secrets, and must not evade us! Kill him! His entrails shall be burned with the snakes!”Nearer they came, as if searching for the secret entrance.In pulling the drawer inside I had closed it, and, clinging on to the ring, determined that it should not be opened while strength was left to me.For a second the footsteps, sounding dull and muffled in the dust, seemed to halt outside. Then joy filled my heart a moment later, when they hurried onward, and the angry cries receded in the distance.Evidently, with the stone trough drawn inside, nothing remained in the subterranean passage to denote the whereabouts of a hidden entrance. Likewise it was apparent that they knew not the existence of the secret sepulchre.Panting and exhausted, I sank upon the ground. I had again escaped!

Grasping the Crescent with both hands, I examined it minutely, convincing myself that it actually was the strange object that Zoraida had given me. I recognised its curious engraving and the undecipherable hieroglyphics that had so puzzled me.

How it came to repose where I had discovered it was a profound mystery. Apparently the thief of the Kel-Fadê, who had snatched it from me, had replaced it in its case and pushed it into his saddle-bag along with the miscellaneous proceeds of other raids, and then, by some means, both the bags had been deposited in that chamber for safe keeping. The entrance to that gruesome sepulchre was, no doubt, a hidden mystery, therefore the thief imagined his treasure safe from prying fingers. But I had regained it, and meant to retain possession of it, and to learn the great insolvable Secret even though my life might be jeopardised. If Zoraida still lived, I might, after all, be enabled to carry out her extraordinary commission, and so earn that peace and happiness that was my promised reward. By this thought hope revived within me, as with redoubled energy I endeavoured to detect some means by which to escape. With the Crescent of Glorious Wonders once again in my possession it was my determination to return to Agadez, even at the risk of arrest, and seek Mohammed ben Ishak, the one person in the whole world who could impart to me the abstruse knowledge upon which depended my future. Yet, with the Crescent within my grasp, and only a few days distant from Agadez, I was, nevertheless, an utterly helpless prisoner, doomed to the companionship of the ghastly dead, until I too should pass the threshold of the Silent Kingdom.

Through the day I searched for means of exit, unceasingly examining the roof of my prison, but finding nothing to lead me to suppose that a door was concealed. How I had been placed there was a mystery. Once, about noon, I was startled by hearing a voice deep and resonant, yet I reassured myself that it was merely fancy, and that I was alone. After long search, I ate and drank, then sat helpless and dejected, examining my regained prize, which, alas! was still useless to me. To return to Agadez with it in my possession seemed a forlorn hope. All my thoughts centred upon the woman whose grace and beauty held me enmeshed. In a frenzy of madness I rose and paced that silent unknown tomb where hideous, crumbling skeletons seemed to mock me, and where the stillness and gloom were so complete and appalling.

Suddenly an object caught my eye that I had not before noticed. Close to the niche in which the bones of one of the victims reposed, an iron ring was fastened in the wall about a foot from the floor. The slanting ray of light from above was falling at that hour quite close to it, revealing that the dust encrusting other parts of the floor had been removed in the vicinity. Upon the white beaten earth there was a large dark stain, about the size of my hand. This aroused my curiosity, for it appeared suspiciously like a stain of blood, and I remembered that my wound was still open when I had been brought there. The thought flashed across my mind that some secret mode of entrance was therein hidden, yet I examined carefully the ring, and found it an ordinary one, evidently used to chain up prisoners, and securely embedded in a huge block of roughly-hewn stone about two feet square.

My hands carefully felt the ring, but it was rough and deeply rusted, showing that it had not been used as a handle. It was curious, though, why the dust should have been removed from the floor at that spot, and why at that place only should there remain a trace of blood. With the hilt of my knife I rapped upon the stone, but there was no sound to give rise to further suspicion, neither was there any opening around the block. It fitted closely like the others, and had probably been built in there for centuries.

Taking the ring in both hands, I tugged at it, at the same time, however, feeling the effort was useless. The idea of moving a gigantic block of stone of that size was preposterous, and when I found I had expended my strength in vain, I laughed aloud as I wiped my brow. Pausing, I again examined its surroundings minutely. Though there was nothing whatever to show the block was movable, I instinctively felt that some secret mode of exit lay concealed there.

Again a voice startled me. Like a muffled wail it sounded, and I was undecided as to whether it might not have been caused by the wind passing over the crevice above that admitted light and air into the charnel-house. Having rested to regain breath, I essayed another attempt. Setting my feet firmly on either side of the block, I threw my whole weight backward, and pulled frantically at the ring of iron. Holding my breath, and setting my teeth firmly, I was exerting every muscle, when suddenly there was a harsh, grating sound.

The great block of stone moved forward nearly six inches!

In my weak state the smallest exertion produced hard breathing, therefore I was compelled to pause for a few moments in intense anxiety. At last I had discovered the secret!

Again I tugged at the great rusty ring, moving it towards me still further. Then, on careful investigation, I discovered that the block of stone was not solid, but formed the front of a great stone drawer, long and narrow like a coffin, and just large enough to admit the body of a man.

By dint of herculean effort I drew the great drawer out nearly four feet, then, taking the Crescent of Glorious Wonders in its worm-eaten case, together with someajwahfor sustenance, I entered the coffin-like receptacle. With difficulty I squeezed through the shallow trough, that proved several feet longer than the thickness of the wall, and, to my relief, I found myself, a moment later, in a narrow, subterranean passage, enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. With feet falling silently in the thick white dust, I felt my way along for some distance, taking several abrupt turnings, until strange noises caused me to halt, listening breathlessly.

Human voices were raised in a solemn, mournful chant!

Noiselessly I crept forward in the darkness, coming at length to a blank wall, and then, turning sharply to the right, a thick plush curtain arrested my progress. Drawing it aside slightly, and with infinite care, I gazed in wonderment upon a scene weird and remarkable. It held me spellbound.

The underground apartment was about fifteen feet wide, forty feet long, and nine feet high, with one end slightly raised as a kind of platform. Illumined by a great fire that burned in a sort of brazier in the centre, there were nine flat stones ranged round, and upon these sat aged, white-bearded Arabs. They were councillors of one of the secret societies of Al-Islâm. Around were assembled other younger Sons of the Desert, presenting a strange and weird appearance. Each bore an ostrich feather, stuck in the rope of camel’s hair that encircled his head, and carried in his left hand a green-paintedderbouka.

The councillors, swaying their bodies in unison, were uttering strange, monotonous incantations, when suddenly a very old and feeble man, in scarlet burnouse, descended from the platform where he had been enthroned, bearing in his hand a small black snake that writhed and twisted itself around his bony wrist. Advancing to the brazier, he cast the reptile into the fire, and as it was consumed, the whole of those present set up a long, shrill wail.

“Accursed be the race of dogs!” they cried. “May the entrails of the Infidels who have over-run the glorious land of the True Believer be burned like yonder serpent, and may the pestilence overtake them. May the vultures lay bare their bones, and may their dust be scattered across the plains, even unto the Great Sea.”

The words revealed to me their purpose. During my travels, I had, on many occasions, heard rumours of secret Moslem societies, although their existence had often been denied in the European press, the ParisFigaroexcepted. Frequently had I longed for an opportunity of investigating these associations, formed for the purpose of concerted and decisive action against the Christians, and now, by a most curious circumstance, I found myself present at one of their secret meetings. The most violent and far-reaching of these organisations was, I had been told, the Ghuzzat, a development of an offshoot of the Senousya, and was composed of the wildest fanatics of the Aïssáwà sect who were followers of the elder Senousi, a Shereef, or descendant of the Prophet. Leaving Mecca some years before, the marabout had wandered through Egypt, Tripoli, and Tunis, finally building a largezawya(Hermitage) at El-Beida, near the fountain of Apollo. At that time the Arabs of the province were pagans. He preached against the Christian invaders, healed the sick, performed “miracles,” and established for himself a reputation, so that the Bedouins carried his fame across the Desert, through the Oasis of Ojila-Jalo, into Wadai and Mourzouk, Agadez, and Timbuktu, and even into Morocco. The present head of this society for the simultaneous massacre of all Christians throughout the Soudan, was a descendant of Senousi, named El-Mahdi, and its members were the most mad-brained fanatics, who took oaths upon the Korân to exterminate the dogs of Infidels. (El-Mahdi. Meaning “Led by God.” There are many families of that name in the Sahara.) Thus it was with combined interest and trepidation that I stood gazing upon a remarkable sight that no European had ever before witnessed. Though the Christian invader had been tolerated along the Barbary littoral, it was apparent that the fierce hatred and treachery of Al-Islâm was only stifled, and the teaching of fanatical societies, such as these, was that all Roumis should, in an unguarded moment, be massacred without mercy. Indeed, the weird chant that fell upon my ears at that moment was to the effect that Allah, Requiter of good and evil, bade them rise and revenge the wrongs that followers of the Great Prophet had suffered at the defiling hands of the accursed.

The blazing brazier was, I noticed, very similar in shape to that in the mysterious chamber in Algiers, to which Zoraida had conducted me. Could it be that she too was a member of this widespread secret league to secure the extermination of the Christians?

The chant concluded, the strange rites of the Ghuzzat (Fighters for the Faith) commenced. After performing asujdah, (a single “prostration,” with the forehead touching the ground, performed from a sitting position), the whole of those present recited the Surat-al-Ikhlas, which is also sometimes called the Kul Huw’ Allah, or the Declaration of Unity, of which the following is the translation:—

“Say, He is the one God!The eternal Allah!He begets not, nor is He begot!And unto Him the like is not.”

“Say, He is the one God!The eternal Allah!He begets not, nor is He begot!And unto Him the like is not.”

The aged man in the scarlet burnouse, who seemed to be the high priest of the order, turned towards the raised platform, and, amid a sudden silence, clapped his hands. When lo! a curtain at the rear was drawn aside, revealing a kind of small circular hut, built of dried palm branches, with an opening at the top. Those assembled cried aloud, as if in fear, but the priest comforted them with an Ayat, or Korânic verse, and almost at the same moment, eleven men, barefooted, with their burnouses cast aside, marched in single file before the hut.

The secret ceremony was a strange admixture of religion and paganism, for, as they descended from the dais and marched round the circle of seated councillors, the chief sprinkled them with blood from the tip of an ostrich feather. Then they were lined up with their backs to the hut, and in the uncertain light shed by the flaming brazier presented a most weird spectacle. Suddenly, at a word from the man in the red robe, the conspirators gathered around, thumped theirderboukas, and set up a plaintive howl, while the eleven kept perfect cadence with the right foot.

A slight pause ensued, when the eleven turned and moved onward, until the first—a lad not over ten years of age, apparently just initiated into the mysteries of the foul plot against Europeans—reached the mysterious hut. Then, halting for a second, he deliberately plunged his arm down the hole in the top, and, amid low, guttural expressions of approbation that sounded from all sides, dragged forth a huge serpent, about five feet in length, and the size of a man’s wrist. Struggling desperately, he attempted to hold it about four inches from the head with his teeth, but at first he could not open his mouth wide enough, and this seemed to cause the onlookers considerable anxiety. The head of the reptile was to the left, and to break the dead weight of the great snake, the lad held its writhing body up with his left hand. The boy was not four feet in height, so the contrast was remarkable. At length, however, he succeeded in fastening his teeth firmly in the serpent’s back, and the march and chant were resumed, to the accompaniment of monotonous drumming. The man behind the snake-carrier took his feather from his head and seemed to be chasing the serpent towards the left, so as to keep the reptile’s fangs from the lad’s face.

The third man picked out a snake from the little hut and carried it as did the boy, while the fourth acted as the second man did; thus it went on till eight of the men were in motion. By the time the fifth couple were ready to take a snake, the first had completed a few circuits of the space. Then he took the reptile from his mouth and gently threw it upon the ground, where it lay motionless in a state of catalepsy, and, marching round while the onlookers prostrated themselves, murmuring strange incantations, he again reached the hut, and took another of the writhing reptiles. This was continued until all the snakes had been used.

Meanwhile, the reptiles that had been thrown at the feet of the silent, statuesque councillors of the order were brushed by feathers by half a dozen men, and then handed one by one to the conspirators grouped around, who gripped them near the head, and, while holding them still and motionless at arm’s length, recited a declaration of adherence to the secret league. When all the snakes had gone through the weird ceremonial, and were in the hands of the dark-faced wanderers of the plains, the grave councillors rose, and their places were taken by a similar number of mysterious-looking women, enveloped from head to foot in black haicks, which entirely covered them, except for the two holes through which their bright eyes peered.

As they seated themselves upon the flat stones, the note of the dismal chant was changed to a more shrill one, and the men, led by the venerable chief of the conspirators, formed a circle around them, while each drew from beneath his burnouse aHamáil, or pocket Korân.

“The grave is darkness and good deeds are its lamp,” they commenced chanting, moving slowly round the seated women. Then followed a supplication which commenced, “O Prince! O Ruler! O Ancient of Benefits! O Omniscient! O Lord of the Three Worlds! O Thou who givest when asked, and who aidest when Aid is required, receive this our prostration, and preserve us from dangers, and make easy our Affairs, and broaden our Breasts.”

From the remainder of their remarkable prayer I gathered that as they, the Ghuzzat of the Senousya, had been able to hold in submission the venomous serpents in their hands, so would they, on the day when the standard of revolt was raised in Algeria, in Tunis, and in Egypt, hold in their clutches the swaggering Roumis who had defiled their land. Then, as they proceeded one after another to kill the reptiles, they declared, with one accord, that with as little compunction as they now treated these snakes, so would they slaughter without mercy the men, women, and children of the Infidels. Their extermination, like vermin, would alone, they declared, “bring coolness to the eyes of True Believers.”

Suddenly, almost before I was aware of it, the eyes of the aged chief met mine! I had, in my eager desire to witness the strange scenes, indiscreetly pulled back the curtain too far, revealing the whole of my head!

The high priest, clapping his hands, produced in a moment a dead silence.

“Lo!” he shouted in a loud voice. “My sons and daughters, prying eyes have fallen upon us. We are discovered!”

His words produced an effect that was electrical. Fifty voices, with one accord, demanded further explanation.

“We have, O children, been watched from behind yonder curtain!” he cried. “Our secret is known!”

I waited for no more. A dozen fierce fanatics dashed towards the spot where I had been standing, but without thinking of any place of refuge, I plunged down the dark passage. In a second I was pursued. Oaths and vows of vengeance sounded behind me, and with the Crescent of Glorious Wonders grasped tightly in my hand, I sped onward until I ran headlong against a wall. Turning quickly at right angles, I found another long, unlighted subterranean passage. Dashing headlong down it, I turned to right and then to left through its intricate windings, and as the footsteps of my pursuers sounded behind me, I suddenly became aware that I was retracing my steps to my tomb-like dungeon. From those who sought me I could expect no mercy. Death only could expiate my crime. I had discovered the intentions of Al-Islâm, and even though I might declare myself a follower of the Prophet, I had not been initiated into the mysteries of the Ghuzzat, and would therefore be put to death as a spy.

The fierce fanatics, with knives unsheathed, were at my heels, and, redoubling my speed, I tore along, stumbling over the rough floor and grazing both legs and arms in my wild flight. To strike me down the conspirators were straining every muscle, yet I managed to keep on, until, taking two sudden turns immediately after one another, I remembered that I was near the entrance to the secret chamber.

It was my only chance. If they were unaware of the existence of the charnel-house with its crumbling bones, then, perchance, I might escape. In the darkness I could distinguish nothing. What if I had passed the entrance, and came at last to a blank wall! The thought unnerved me. Voices behind me sounded harsh and deep, still I dashed onward until my feet caught in something, and, stumbling, I fell.

I knew the accident must result in my death. In a few moments the keen knives of the conspirators must reach my heart.

My hands came into contact with stone. Frantically I grasped it, realising with gratification that I had fallen over the great coffin-like drawer that gave entrance to my prison. In a second I recovered myself, and, entering the half-open trough, crawled through it, with the Crescent still in my hand.

Finding myself on the opposite side of the wall, I lost no time in grasping the iron ring, and, with the last strenuous effort of which I was capable, succeeded in dragging the drawer towards me. It was done on the impulse of the moment; then I waited, not daring to breathe.

Hurrying footsteps sounded outside, with shouts of “Death to the spy! He holdeth our secrets, and must not evade us! Kill him! His entrails shall be burned with the snakes!”

Nearer they came, as if searching for the secret entrance.

In pulling the drawer inside I had closed it, and, clinging on to the ring, determined that it should not be opened while strength was left to me.

For a second the footsteps, sounding dull and muffled in the dust, seemed to halt outside. Then joy filled my heart a moment later, when they hurried onward, and the angry cries receded in the distance.

Evidently, with the stone trough drawn inside, nothing remained in the subterranean passage to denote the whereabouts of a hidden entrance. Likewise it was apparent that they knew not the existence of the secret sepulchre.

Panting and exhausted, I sank upon the ground. I had again escaped!

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