Chapter Forty Two.
Vagaries of Vision.
Over the rising ground we eagerly sped, halting not till we dismounted beneath the palms. The spot bore no trace of having been visited by travellers; indeed, for the past two days we had not come across a single bone of horse or camel, the country being apparently desolate and unexplored.
Having carefully recalled the old imam’s dying instructions, Octave and I became both convinced that this must be the place he had indicated. Standing together, we cast our gaze wonderingly around, but saw nothing to relieve the dreary monotony of sand and sky, except far away eastward on the distant horizon, where a great mountain loomed, misty and indistinct, in the purple haze.
“At last the supreme moment has arrived,” I said excitedly, drawing the Crescent of Glorious Wonders from the bag in which I had hidden it. “We will put the truth of Mohammed ben Ishak’s assertions, to the test.”
“How that piece of engraved metal can effect the rescue of Zoraida remains to me a mystery,” Octave exclaimed, intensely interested in the strange experiment I was about to make. He had tied his horse to a palm trunk, taken a draught from his water-skin, and now stood with folded arms, intently watching my actions.
Still half dubious as to whether the old imam had spoken the truth, I gazed upon the Crescent, tracing its mystic inscription, and vainly endeavouring to decipher it.
“Did the imam explain the exact position in which you were to place it upon your head?” asked my friend.
“He told me to let it rest upon my brow,” I answered.
“Then you must remove your head-gear.”
This I did at once, casting it upon the sand. Then, breathless with excitement, knowing how much depended upon the elucidation of the Great Mystery, I took the strangely-shaped object that had experienced so many vicissitudes, and, while Uzanne riveted his dark, serious eyes upon mine, placed it upon my forehead. Pressing its inner edge against my brow, it fitted tightly, the horns gripping my temples with an unpleasant pressure that caused them to throb violently.
“Dieu!” cried Octave, grasping my left hand suddenly. “Tell me—tell me quickly—what ails you?”
I was staggering as one intoxicated. I heard his voice, but it seemed distant, even sepulchral, for when the cold metal came in contact with my brow, I experienced sensations excruciatingly painful. Across the top of my skull and through my temples and eyes sharp pains shot, producing an acute sensitiveness, as though flesh and brain were being torn asunder by sharp hooks. In the first acute spasm of suffering, I cried aloud, causing Uzanne considerable anxiety. For a few moments the agony was intense. The tapering ends of the Crescent pressed into my temples, causing them to shoot in spasms that lancinated every nerve, and I felt myself on the point of fainting under the horrible cruciation.
With a sudden impetuous movement I tried to doff the semicircle of metal, but whether I did not pull it evenly, or whether my head had swollen after I had assumed it, I could not tell. All I knew was, that I could not disengage my head from its tightening grip. Clenching my teeth, I struggled against the nauseating faintness that crept over me, and gradually the sudden pangs decreased, until the maddening racking of my brain was succeeded by a curious tranquillisation that caused me to involuntarily reconcile myself to circumstances.
Octave’s presence, and indeed all my immediate surroundings, seemed to fade from my sight, and in their place there was conjured up in the vista down which I seemed to gaze a vision indistinct at first, but gradually becoming more and more vivid. With my face to the east, a feeling of calm pleasure and enchantment overspread me as my vision seemed to extend to treble its normal range.
It was an extraordinary phenomenon.
With my eyes fixed upon the purple mountain fading into a shadowy outline against the clear and brilliant sky, I appeared to gradually approach it. As it grew larger and more distinct, I was enabled to take in the details of the scene, and become enraptured by its charm. The sides of the mountain were clothed by luxuriant foliage and sweet-smelling flowers, and when, in the strange hallucination which had taken possession of me, I approached still nearer, I suddenly experienced a conviction that I had on a previous occasion gazed upon the same scene.
Vainly I tried to recall it. The pressure upon my temples appeared to have crushed and dulled my senses so that any effort to recollect the past was unavailing. My brain seemed electrified by the sudden shock when I had placed the Crescent upon my brow, and now all the past was but a blank, all the present chaotic and incomprehensible. Yet the scene was so familiar, that my inability to recollect where I had before witnessed it was tantalising, and caused me to wonder whether my mind had become unbalanced and the exteriorised image had not been induced by insanity. I dreaded to think it might be so. Yet I now experienced no pain, only a strange, uncontrollable desire to draw nearer. The mountain seemed to act as a magnet, transfixing me, drawing me closer and closer, with a force mystic, but utterly irresistible.
Within me was a violent craving, a sudden longing to search for some unknown person or object concealed there, the truth of which I must at all hazards discover.
Words fell upon my ear; but they were unintelligible. Uzanne was no doubt asking me a question in his eagerness to know what had caused my alarming change of manner, but I heeded not. Swiftly I approached the single mountain rising in its solitary beauty in that vast, lonely land, until suddenly its highest point attracted me, and at last, with an ejaculation of joy, I remembered.
The summit was shaped in the form of a camel’s hump, crowned by three palms that looked at that altitude no bigger than the little finger-joint. The centre tree raised its feathery head higher than those of its companions. Yes, it was the same! The scene that my keen vision now gazed upon was a reproduction, exact in every particular, of the picture that had been revealed by the crystal mirror that Mohammed ben Ishak had allowed me to gaze upon!
In the mirror I had been painfully impressed by the figure of a dying man in the immediate foreground, but the presence of death no longer marred the scene. Pushing forward still nearer, over rough, broken ground, without experiencing any physical fatigue, I distinguished straight before me a dark spot in the side of a great wall of grey rock, just at a point where it rose from the plain to form part of the mountain. Presently I could see that it was the low arched entrance to what appeared to be a cave, and as a sudden desire seized me to investigate it, I pressed forward, overwhelmed by a vivid conviction that within that cavern lay an elucidation of the Great Mystery. Eagerly I approached, until I had come within a leopard’s leap of the gloomy opening, then suddenly some inexplicable power arrested my progress. Struggling to proceed, I fought desperately with the unseen influence that held me back, determined that even though I risked my life, I must enter that rocky portal and search for the knowledge by which I might rescue Zoraida. Her words of piteous appeal urged me forward, but though I exerted all my strength and will, yet I did not advance a single inch further towards my weird and gloomy goal.
Some strange intuition told me that this cavern was the spot I sought, yet, though again and again I strove to shake off the shackles that had so suddenly been cast about me, all effort was in vain, for an instant later my heart sank in despair as the scene gradually dissolved and receded from my gaze, until the mountain grew so distant as to appear the mere misty outline that I had at first witnessed, and I was rudely aroused from a state of dreamy wonderment by hearing Octave exclaim in alarm—
“Sapristi! old fellow, I’m beginning to think you’ve taken leave of your senses!”
“No,” I answered, endeavouring to calm myself. “I—I have witnessed an extraordinary scene.”
“Has anything remarkable been revealed?” he anxiously inquired.
“Yes. I have had a strangely vivid day-dream, by which I have been shown the spot whereat to search for the promised explication.”
“Where is it?” he asked quickly.
“In a cavern in yonder mountain,” I replied, pointing to the horizon.
“In a cavern?” he cried in surprise. “How have you ascertained that?”
I told him of the success of the catoptromancy, of the picture that my breath had produced upon the mirror, and of the exact reproduction which I had just witnessed.
“But do you think the Crescent has produced this remarkable chimera?” he asked.
“Undoubtedly,” I replied, releasing my head from it at last, and offering it to him, in order to see whether a similar illusion would be revealed. Removing his head-gear, he allowed me to place it upon his brow in the same position as I had assumed it. I held it there several minutes, and asked whether he experienced either pleasure or pain.
“I feel nothing,” he declared at last. Then, with an incredulous smile, he added, “I’m inclined to believe that your remarkable extension of vision is mere imagination. Your nerves are unstrung by thoughts of Zoraida’s peril, in combination with the fatigue of your journey.”
“But I can describe to you yonder mountain minutely,” I said. “The cave is in a high wall of grey granite, and its mouth, once evidently of spacious dimensions, has been rendered small by sand that has drifted up until it has almost choked it. It is semicircular, but seems narrow inside, forming a kind of shallow grotto.”
“And what is the general aspect of the mountain side?”
The picture still remained vividly impressed upon my memory, so I had no difficulty in giving him an accurate description of what I had seen.
“Eh bien! Let us investigate,” he said, evidently amazed at my very detailed word-picture of the place. “Let us see how far you are correct. For ten minutes you’ve been gazing at it with such a strange, far-off look in your eyes, that I confess I began to be concerned as to your sanity. I have seen a similar look in the eyes of Chasseurs who have fallen victims to sunstroke.”
“The mystery is just as inexplicable to myself as it is to you,” I answered. “Somehow, however, the contact of the Crescent has created within me a firmly-rooted conviction that we shall discover something in that cavern.”
“If we can find the place,” he added, laughing good-humouredly.
“Let us try,” I said, climbing upon my camel, who had been resting on his knees a few yards away, and causing him to rise. Uzanne, after another pull at his water-skin, sprang upon his horse, and we both commenced to descend again to the sandy plain.
With eyes fixed upon the mountain, rising like an island amid that inhospitable sea of sand, we pressed forward, Uzanne from time to time expressing a hope that we were not seeking a will-o’-the-wisp, and speculating as to what mystery might be concealed within the gloomy opening I had described. The way grew more rough, sand being succeeded by great sharp stones, which played havoc with my camel’s feet, causing me to travel but slowly, for my animal’s lameness in this vast wilderness might result disastrously. Still we journeyed on, as slowly the great mountain assumed larger proportions, until, after a most tedious course of travel, we found ourselves but a few hundred yards from its base.
The three trees were growing upon the summit as I had seen them in my mental picture, and every detail was the same in reality as I had witnessed it. The ground rose gently, with palmetto and asphodel growing and flourishing among the rocks, but there was no steep cliff of granite—there was no cave!
Uzanne laughed at my abject disappointment.
“My surmise was correct, you see, old fellow,” he exclaimed, pulling up for a moment to light a cigarette. “The mysterious cavern only existed in your distorted imagination.”
“But how do you account for the fact that I was able to describe the place to you before I had seen it?”
Shrugging his shoulders with the air of the true Parisian, he answered, “There are mysteries that it would be futile to attempt to fathom. That is one.”
His reply annoyed me. It seemed that he either doubted me, or attributed my illusion to some trick of my own.
“At least you will accompany me on a ride around the base,” I said. “I have not yet abandoned hope.”
“Oh, very well,” he said, with a reluctance that was apparent. “As you wish. I’m afraid, however, you’re in search of a phantom.”
The mountain cast a welcome shadow, and as we turned our faces northward and picked our way over the stones, riding was not at all unpleasant. For some time, however, neither of us spoke, but when we had ridden about a quarter of a mile further round the base, I suddenly reined up, and, pointing to a great precipitous cliff of granite that, jutting out before us, rose about a hundred feet from the plain, cried—
“See! The cave! At last! Surely that is more than a phantom?”
My companion shaded his eyes with his hands for a second, then, turning to me, in an awed voice answered—
“Yes! It is indeed a cave, exactly as you have described it! Forgive me for doubting, but the puzzling strangeness of these extraordinary incidents must be my excuse.”
“Of course,” I answered, too excited for complimentary phrases, and with one accord we both bounded forward, dismounting a few moments later before the strange, mysterious cavern.
Taking our rifles, we both peered into the darkness, which was rendered more impenetrable on account of the brilliance of the day. Breathlessly excited, we stood on the threshold of the natural chamber, the existence of which had been so curiously revealed to me. What mystery lay therein hidden we knew not, and for some moments stood straining our eyes into the dusky gloom. The Crescent of Glorious Wonders had so far revealed the mystery; we had now to explore the cave in search of the Great Secret which Mohammed ben Ishak had promised would be revealed.
“If we are to enter, we shall want a light,” Octave said at last, in a voice strained by excitement.
“Around my water-skins are ropes of plaited grass. They will serve as torches,” I exclaimed; and, rushing back to where my camel was calmly kneeling, I took my knife and cut the cords away, dividing them into four long strips, two of which I gave my companion. Striking a match, he lit one, and with our rifles slung behind us, we climbed over the great heap of drifted sand and entered the weird and gloomy grotto.
The uncertain light of the torch was scarcely sufficient to illumine our footsteps. The cavern was spacious, the arched roof being formed of bare, jagged rock, but the sand of the Desert, having drifted in, had so closed the entrance that we had to stoop until we had entered some distance, then we went by gradual descent over the mound of soft sand, down some sixteen feet to the floor of the cavern. Here it widened until it was some twenty feet across, then gradually narrowed, as the ground, formed of rocks over which we clambered, shelved gradually down.
Eagerly we gazed on every side, but only saw rough rocks above, beneath, and around us. So dark was it, that I suggested I should ignite a second torch, but Octave would not hear of it, pointing out that we might be in need of them later.
Weirdly our voices echoed, and it was altogether an uncanny place. Penetrating at length to the extreme end, and finding absolutely nothing, we proceeded to make a closer inspection of the sides of the place, for we had now resolved to thoroughly explore it. Eagerly we searched every nook and cranny, expecting every moment to discover something, but being always disappointed. So lofty was the place in one part that the light did not reach the roof, and above us was an impenetrable gloom, into which we vainly strained our eyes.
The dead silence, the intensely dispiriting character of our surroundings, and the unnatural echo of our voices, so impressed us, that we found ourselves conversing in whispers. Indeed, we were awestricken. A great secret—the character of which we knew not—was to be made known to us, and each time we cast our eyes about us, we glanced half in fear that some strange and extraordinary horror, of which we had not even dreamed, would be suddenly revealed.
Having nearly completed our inspection, we were suddenly startled by a curious noise which sounded in the darkness close to us. Halting, we listened breathlessly for some moments.
“Bah! it’s only a bird,” I said, and we moved on again.
Suddenly, however, my companion, holding the torch higher above his head, and pointing straight before us, started as he shrieked—
“Dieu! See! What is that? Shoot! For God’s sake, fire!”
So startled was I by his sudden ejaculation, that at first I could see nothing, but, peering in the direction he indicated, I saw in the dusky gloom, about ten yards away, a pair of eyes that in the darkness seemed to emit fire. The eyes moved quickly from side to side, and without a second thought I took my rifle and, aiming full between them, pulled the trigger. The report, deafening in that confined space, was followed by the thud of a falling body, and, rushing up, we discovered that a great panther lay there dead. Our escape had been almost miraculous. The animal had, no doubt, been watching us ever since we entered, and at the very moment when discovered was crouching for a spring. Fortunately, however, my bullet passed through his skull, causing him to leap from the ground and fall in a heap, dead as a stone.
“Nom d’un tonnerre! That was a narrow shave! Another instant, and one of us would have been under his claws.”
“Yes,” I replied. “It was fortunate you noticed him.” But we were both too much absorbed in endeavouring to discover the character of the Great Secret to further comment upon the incident.
Resuming our search, ever on the alert lest a similar danger should threaten, we at length found, half concealed behind a projecting rock, a deep recess about four feet square on a level with the ground. Uzanne thrust his flambeau into it, and we were at once surprised to find that the extent of it was not revealed. Briefly we discussed our situation, when my companion exclaimed—
“Well, here goes! I mean to explore this;” and with rifle slung behind, and torch in his hand, he went down upon his knees and crawled into the narrow entry. Following close behind him, with heart beating quickly in anticipation of some startling revelation, I crawled onward through the tunnel-like passage, grazing elbows and knees upon the sharp rocks, heeding nothing in my eagerness to explore the depths of this subterranean grotto. The air was not foul, and we had confidence that the narrow passage was more than a mere recess, but were dismayed a few minutes later, when we came to the end, only to find further progress barred by a wall of rugged rock.
Octave minutely examined the great black stones before him, for the passage was so narrow that I could not pass, and therefore could see but little.
“Strange!” he ejaculated, after he had been carefully examining a long fissure and thrusting his fingers into it. “These stones appear suspiciously as if they have been placed here to block up an entry.”
“What causes you to think so?” I inquired.
“Because the stratum runs at a different angle to the rest of the stone. There must be some opening beyond.”
“Cannot we force an entrance?” I inquired.
Taking up his rifle, he struck the two great blocks of rock with the butt. A hollow sound was emitted.
“Yes,” he said. “We must break down this barrier. But how?”
“Why not blow it up with powder?” I suggested.
“Excellent!” he cried, and forthwith I proceeded to put my suggestion into execution. The only receptacle that we had in which to place the powder, was a large cigarette-case of chased copper, which Zoraida had given me on the last occasion we had met, and though I cherished it as a gift from her, I found myself compelled to sacrifice it. Therefore, filling it from my powder-horn so full that it would not quite close, I bound tightly around it a long piece of wire which Octave chanced to have with him, for the Spahis have capacious pockets, and are in the habit of carrying with them all sorts of odds and ends.
This done, I gave the charge to my companion, who carefully placed it deep into the crevice, emptied the powder-horn into the small fissure, and then with considerable ingenuity constructed a slow match. While he laid a train of powder, we gradually receded until we were about half-way back to the large cave, and then, telling me to continue on and carry his rifle, so that nothing might prevent him from getting out quickly, he ignited the match, and followed me with considerable alacrity. With bated breath we threw ourselves down at some distance from the mouth of the passage, awaiting results.
The moments passed like hours, until suddenly there was a bright flash in the low, rocky recess, and next second a terrific explosion caused the earth to tremble. There were sounds of falling rocks, followed by a volume of thick smoke that belched forth and went past us like a cloud; then all was silent again, and we waited another five minutes to allow the fumes to disperse before again venturing into the narrow tunnel.
Chapter Forty Three.
The Great White Diadem.
Impatiently we at last crawled forward again, eager to ascertain what our attempt at blasting had effected. Our first impression was that we were worse off than before, as the explosion had hurled great portions of rock along the tunnel, where they now lay nearly blocking it, and in several places we could only advance by squeezing ourselves flat upon our stomachs or struggling sideways between the boulders and the rocky sides of the long recess. Our tedious advance was once or twice almost effectually barred, but each time Octave, whose arms were stronger than I had imagined them, succeeded in pushing back the great pieces of stone sufficiently to allow the passage of our bodies.
“Épatant!” cried my companion suddenly, just as he had squeezed himself flat to pass a piece of rock that almost barred our passage completely. “Excellent! The stones that blocked the entrance have been entirely blown away!”
“Hurrah!” I shouted excitedly, struggling along after him. “Can you distinguish anything?”
“Nothing yet,” he answered.
A second later I scrambled up close behind him, but, peering forward over his shoulder, I saw only an impenetrable darkness beyond. The torch he now held did not burn as well as the first, shedding only a flickering, uncertain light. Through the breach we had made we crawled together, and as we stumbled on over the rocks that had been displaced by the explosion, we found there was room to stand upright. The flambeau, held high by my companion, revealed only a portion of the gloomy chamber we had opened, but against the rugged walls, that glistened here and there as the rays fell upon them, we saw black, mysterious-looking objects that in the fickle light looked shadowy and indistinct against a background of Stygian darkness. Their sight startled us. Half choked by smoke and dust, we knew not whether there might be another entrance to this pitch-dark cavern, where wonderful stalactites hung glistering from the roof, or what wild animals might be its tenants.
Holding our loaded rifles in readiness, we listened. But the silence, complete as that of the tomb, remained unbroken. Igniting one of the torches I held in my hand, the light became so far increased that we could distinguish we were in a spacious vaulted natural chamber, that bore traces of previous occupation. My feet caught an object on the ground, and, picking it up, I examined it. It was a leathern scabbard curiously ornamented with metal that was black with age. As we advanced, we found that the dark, mysterious objects we had at first noticed were great packages strongly bound in skins. We counted them; there were thirty-seven. Dust, inches thick, was upon them, for they had evidently been borne over the Desert by camels, and lain secreted there many years. What, we wondered, did they contain?
After a brief inspection of the place, we set to work to investigate. Taking our knives, we commenced upon the pack nearest the place we had entered, but so rotten was the leather that our impatient fingers tore it asunder like paper, and the ropes that had once secured it crumbled into dust at our touch. In breathless eagerness we thrust both hands into the openings we had made and drew them forth.
With one accord we uttered loud ejaculations of abject amazement. Our hands were filled with precious stones!
We could scarce believe our eyes, each half fearing that our sudden good fortune was but a dream. Yet, nevertheless, in a few moments we were convinced of its reality, for time after time we thrust in our hands and allowed the unset gems to run through our fingers like beans. In our delirium of intense excitement as we tore away the wrappings, the jewels became scattered about the ground, and many were trodden under foot.
Beyond ejaculating expressions of amazement, we could not speak. Dumbfounded, we stood caressing in our hands the newly-discovered treasure, vaguely conscious of its enormous value and of the fact that Fortune had at last, in a most extraordinary manner, bestowed her favour bountifully upon us.
Our wealth was beyond our wildest dreams. We were absolutely bewildered by the sight that met our gaze.
The brilliance of the gems, though somewhat dulled by the dust of ages, held us with fascination. Upon the ground around us they lay heaped in such scattered profusion that we seemed powerless to collect them. There were great diamonds of enormous value that flashed, scintillated, and dazzled us under the uncertain rays of the torches, magnificent emeralds, some almost yellow, others green as the deep sea, white, yellow, and rich blue sapphires, huge purple amethysts, pale, exquisitely-coloured beryls, peerless pink and black pearls larger than any in the Crown Jewels, green, straw-coloured, and blue topazes of enormous size, beautiful topazolites of delicate hues, huge blood-red jacinths, opals marvellous in their iridescent reflection of light, and matchless spinels, turquoises, and other stones of all difference of colour and shade and every degree of translucency.
“Come!” I cried excitedly at last, when speech returned to me; “let us see what the next contains!” and together we tore asunder the wrappings, to discover a similar hoard of unset gems, many of the diamonds being even larger and more magnificent than those we had at first discovered.
Intoxicated by delight, we proceeded to further investigate our newly-discovered wealth, passing on from bale to bale, finding in each a wondrous collection of precious stones of such size and brilliancy, the like of which our eyes had never before encountered.
“Look!” I ejaculated, picking out three enormous diamonds that were lying in a heap upon the floor. “Each single stone will realise a fortune!”
“True,” answered Octave gleefully, his eyes glistening with delight. “They are as large as any in the world.”
Finding a piece of rotten wood that had originally been placed along the edge of one of the packages, apparently to strengthen it, we utilised it as a flambeau, and, proceeding with our investigations, we found that no fewer than sixteen of the great bales contained nothing but gems, most of which had evidently been hurriedly knocked from their settings in order to be more easily transported.
One pack was nearly filled with treasures that were absolutely priceless from an archaeological point of view, for they were genuine and well-preserved relics of bygone ages. Strangely—engraven zircons, hyacinths, tourmalines, spinels, beryls, all of exquisite hues, delicately carved emeralds, and deep blood-red sards with mystic inscriptions and remarkable designs. Hundreds of Egyptian seals in the form of the scarabaeus, or sacred beetle, curious cylindrical seals in chalcedony, and beautiful Greek scarabs, the engraved intaglio of which in most cases was enclosed in a guilloche or engrailed border. There were also large numbers of finely-engraved ornaments of carnelian, chrysoprase, plasma, bloodstone, jasper, beryl, agate, and onyx, and many seals of thin form, through which the light passed sufficiently to show the engraving by transmitted rays, the stones with this view being mostly cut en cabochon.
In another package we discovered, carefully wrapped by themselves in cloths of fine linen—now yellow with age and rotten as tinder—a number of strangely-shaped amulets. Upon many of them were engraved in Arabic gnomic or other sayings, indicating that they were believed to guard the wearer against demons, thieves, and various evils, or regarded as charms for procuring love; while others had on them the names of their possessors, various mottoes, good counsels from the Korân, and even distichs of Arab poetry.
Continuing our search, we came across a great pack of ancient ornaments of gold. Time had in some instances dulled them, but their weight showed their solidity, and the stones set in them were the most magnificent we had ever seen. Rings, bracelets, anklets, necklets, great bands of gold for the arms, earrings, buckles and girdles encrusted with diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires, marvellously-enamelled clasps, jewelled sword-hilts, aigrettes with diamond bases, finely-worked filigree balls of gold, and four magnificent diadems, one of which was set entirely with huge diamonds, that gleamed and flashed with a thousand fires as we held it up, while another was adorned wholly by emeralds. From their delicacy of construction, we judged that their wearers must have been Sultanas. Who, we wondered, were they? Whose harem had their dazzlingly-ornamented figures graced?
From the bottom of this pack I at length drew forth a small oval-shaped casket of tortoise-shell beautifully inlaid with gold devices, around the sides of which was a pious inscription in Arabic. The lid refused to open, therefore I placed it aside, and assisted Octave to further investigate.
On we passed, our amazement becoming more complete every moment, ejaculations of profound surprise and admiration escaping us at almost every breath. In the remaining packs we cursorily inspected, we found a most valuable collection of vessels, goblets, dishes, salvers, urns, and wine-vessels, all of solid gold, each very heavy and exquisitely chased in designs that told their age to be considerably over a thousand years. Some bore hieroglyphics that showed that they had ages before been brought out of Egypt, while upon others were Arabic characters that were easily decipherable. Some indeed were Chaldean, many were Byzantine, while greater portion of the goblets bearing Arabic were profusely set with gems. Fine lamps of chased gold, great heavy ornaments that had once graced the dazzling Courts of Love of some powerful potentate, and beautiful jewelled breastplates we unearthed, together with a large number of shapeless masses of gold, ornaments with the gems still set in them having apparently been ruthlessly melted down in order that they might be the more easily secreted. These rough lumps varied from the size of an orange to that of a man’s head, and in several diamonds and other stones were protruding, showing how hurriedly their shape had been altered, and the whole system of careless packing testifying to the fact that they had been brought there with swiftness and secrecy.
“Are we dreaming?” cried my companion in an awed tone, when we had finished examining the contents of the last pack, and relighted another piece of wood we had found. “I cannot yet fully realise the extent of this wonderful discovery!”
“It is indeed amazing,” I said, looking around upon the vast hoard of treasure that lay heaped in every direction. “This then is the Great Secret revealed by the Crescent of Glorious Wonders!”
“And a secret worth obtaining,” my companion added. “It is yours, for you discovered it. You are indeed a Croesus!”
“Yes, no doubt its value is enormous,” I answered. “But in what manner can its recovery effect Zoraida’s safety?”
I thought only of her. In my waking hours her fair, wistful face was ever before me; in my dreams she appeared, urging me on to seek the solution of the mystery. I had found an extraordinary and magnificent collection of gems, hundreds of which were unique in the world. They would give me enormous wealth; but would they also bring me happiness? Alas! I feared they would not, for I had not fully solved the problem. I stood silent, thoughtful, and disheartened.
Octave Uzanne roused me. I was thinking little of the piles of gorgeous jewels at my feet; my thoughts were all of her.
“You haven’t opened that tortoise-shell box yet, old fellow,” he exclaimed. “There might be something in it.”
“Ah! I had forgotten!” I answered, suddenly recollecting its existence. Truth to tell, in the excitement of the moment I had thrown it aside, and it lay in a dark corner unheeded. My companion searched for a few moments, found it, and handed it to me.
With trembling hands I tried to wrench off the lid, but it would not budge. No clasp secured it, yet the lid fitted with an exactness that rendered it quite air-tight. Several times I made vain efforts to open it, and at last was compelled to draw my knife, insert the point of the blade, and so wrench it asunder, utterly ruining the lid.
From inside I drew forth a folded piece of skin, dried, yellow and wrinkled with age. So crisp and brittle was it that it almost broke asunder as, on carefully opening it, I found it covered with small Arabic characters closely written in ink that had faded and become brown and dim by time. Glancing at the bottom, my eyes caught the characters which, more legible than the others, told me its age.
“It is actually over a thousand years old!” I cried. “See! The date is 311 of the Hedjira!” and with Octave holding the torch and eagerly following me, I proceeded to decipher the crabbed and difficult writing, reading it aloud as follows:—
“RECORD OF THE HADJ MOHAMMED ASKIÁ, SULTAN OF THE SÓNGHAY, PEARL OF THE CONCH OF PROPHECY, WHO DESCENDED FROM THE THRONE OF MAGNIFICENCE AND GLORY AFTER MUCH TROUBLE AND AFFLICTION, WHO FROM HIS HEAD REMOVED THE DIADEM OF RESPECT AND FROM HIS BODY THE CLOAK OF HONOUR, WHOSE ROSE-GROVE BECAME A HUT OF GRIEF, WHO WRITETH THESE WORDS IN THE DARK NIGHT OF SEPARATION.
“In the name of Allah, the Merciful, the Clement! Praise is my garment, magnificence is my cloak, grandeur my veil, and all creatures within my kingdom are my men-servants and my maid-servants. O Discoverer of this my Word, know that thou who openest this casket and findest this my treasure, assuredly hast thou learned the secret by the power of the Crescent, the cusp of which is the wondrous Revealer of Secrets and its graven words are as a bright light in the darkness. Before its power men quake in fear, for it bringeth victory over thine enemies and exceeding wealth. By thy belief in the power of the Revealer, thou hast been translated from affliction to the happiness of dignity, and hast been promoted from baseness unto the summit of magnificence; thy mind will be illumined with the light of the interpretation of dreams, and in the storehouse of thine intellect wilt thou deposit the secrets of the treasure of prophecy. Remain ye steadfast, and if thou lovest a woman, be thou not discomforted, for Allah hath predestined blessings, and will bring thine affairs to the desired termination. Upon thee be most abundant salutations and greetings. Those beside whom I fought in battle have deserted me on account of the plague of bloodsuckers. I have descended the throne of dominion and have secreted my treasure, to wander in search of peace. Even though I have presage that I pass in short space from the Mansion of Vexation to the Imperishable Kingdom, yet my memory will only be blotted from the pages of the times to be revived. Happy thou who hast possessed thyself of my camels’ packs, for they will guide thee out of the Valley of Confusion, and if thou lovest a woman, easy will be thy path to the tying of the knot of matrimony, and verily will the verdure of the meadow of life be as a cloak unto thee. O my soul, thou hast cramped mine heart; burnt my spirit. I said, I will complain, but thou hast burnt my tongue. Thou art gone, and we gave many promises of meeting, in hopes of which thou hast consumed me as a lamp. I said, I will lament my separation, but within me hast thou burnt that lamentation. I cannot wish evil to anyone, for the good and evil of this world are but transient. Know, O Discoverer of the Treasure, she who is the light of thine eyes will soon invest thee with the ennobling robe of her choice, for I have made thee a confidant of mysteries, and upon thee will the favours of Allah be plentifully showered. If adversities threaten her, give unto her this my record, together with the Great White Diadem, that is of diamonds, and they shall be weapons in her hands by which they who harbour evil designs against her shall fall, while thee and she shall walk in peace beside the limpid brooks, where the waters of good fortune meander into the river of dignity. If the flames of thine enemy’s malevolence are kindled against thee, take thee also the Emerald Diadem for thyself, for it shall be an indication of prosperity that shall appear upon thy forehead, and shall astonish and disconcert them. To thee the world shall be pleasant as the face of the woman thou lovest. It is incumbent on thee who hast believed, who hast sought, and who hast found, to live merrily in this brief life during the season of flowers, for this is thy purpose, and life is short. Laugh at the times as the cloud wept, for roses smile because the dawn weeps. Unto one faithful follower, he who is named E’mrân, son of Anûsh, son of Yusuf, who hath been compelled to leave me to travel afar over the Great Desert, have I entrusted the Crescent, to be handed down through generations, and after a thousand years have elapsed, to be given unto one who hath faith in its power, in order that he may solve the Great Mystery. Endeavour not to learn the cause of its secret power, for it is an influence the existence whereof none knoweth in thy generation. Suffice it that thou hast secured the Treasure of the Sultan Askiá; that my hands, long ago crumbled unto dust, have watered the thirsty meadows of thine hopes, and that thou knowest thou wilt hereafter dwell in the meadows of felicity. Remember, O Holder of my Treasure, my commands. May thy feet never cross the threshold of the House of Misery, and may many years elapse ere thou art translated from thy frail abode to the Mansion of Eternity. Enduring and permanent is Allah alone. Peace.
“Written on the fourth of the month Chaoual, 311 of the Hedjira.”
“Extraordinary!” ejaculated Octave. “It is a voice from the grave!”
“The will of the most powerful of the Sultans, who has bequeathed to me all his riches,” I said, almost stupefied by the stupendous wealth that had been heaped upon me.
Handling the precious document with infinite care, I refolded it and placed it back in its broken box.
“Shall you carry out his commands?” he asked.
“To the letter,” I answered; then, looking round, I added, “It seems that, having secreted his treasure here, he walled up the entrance with rocks which he cemented together, thus hermetically sealing this chamber, and so preserving its valuable contents.”
“Yes. But the mystic influence of the Crescent of Wonders, and its effect? How do you account for it?”
“It is a mystery which I am commanded not to attempt to solve,” I said quietly. “For the present, I am content with what has been revealed;” and, remembering the dead Sultan’s instructions, I walked to the heap of gold ornaments and took therefrom the Great White Diadem. It was a magnificent ornament, encrusted with huge and wonderful diamonds of the first water, three exquisitely fine stones, cut in the form of a crescent, forming a centre-piece. After a short search, I drew from the pile of jewels the Emerald Diadem, an ornament of similar shape, but green with flashing gems, the central one, enormous, and of magnificent colour, being fashioned as a star. Dusting both of them lightly with my burnouse, the stones shone with bewildering brilliancy.
To place the Great White Diadem and the parchment record in Zoraida’s hands was my first object, and, with that end in view, my companion and I held brief consultation, the result being that, having promised my friend a portion of the treasure, we resolved to take a few of the more remarkable of the jewels, and leave at once, blocking up the entrance after us. As the packages had remained there untouched for a thousand years, it was scarcely likely anyone would find their way to that cavern in the unexplored Desert before we returned, and even if they did, the narrow passage would be barred in such a manner as to be utterly impassable except by blasting.
Therefore, gathering together a number of set and unset gems, rings, bracelets, and seals, we filled our pockets to overflowing, and, wrapping others in a piece of the crumbling leather, we forthwith went back to the narrow entrance, leaving the jewels scattered as they had fallen from the camels’ packs. By our united efforts we succeeded in rolling forward great pieces of rock, until the entry was entirely blocked up, and again, at the other end of the tunnel-like passage, we placed a similar barrier.
Then, finding our way up to the surface again, we emerged into the brilliant day, and, after a hasty meal, mounted, and with eager faces turned towards Agadez, we set out hopeful and jubilant, with treasures of great price concealed in our capacious saddle-bags.
Chapter Forty Four.
Le Commencement de la Fin.
Briefly resting during the blazing noon, we resumed our way speedily across the treacherous sand dunes and rough stones, through the nameless ruined city, until, at dawn of the second day, away on the plain before us, rose the tall palms of Tjigrin.
On reaching the edge of the oasis, Octave took bearings by his pocket compass, and afterwards we continued our way in search of the camp of Spahis, to which it was imperative that he should return. We had arranged that I should rest and obtain supplies from them before continuing my journey alone to Agadez; and that he should, after obtaining leave of absence from his commander, follow me in the guise of a letter-writer. At the City of the Ahír, after I had placed the Great White Diadem and the ancient manuscript in Zoraida’s hands, we could then decide the best means by which we could remove the treasure to Algiers. I still kept him in ignorance of the occupation of Agadez by Hadj Absalam, accounting for Zoraida’s presence there by the fact that she had performed a pious visit to the tomb of a celebrated marabout in the vicinity. Knowing my friend’s eagerness to secure the piratical old chieftain, and feeling that any attempt in that direction would seriously compromise Zoraida, if it did not, indeed, cost her her life, I considered the wisest course was to arouse no suspicion of the truth until he himself discovered the situation. Alone in Agadez, he would be unable to act; whereas if the Spahis obtained the slightest inkling of the whereabouts of the outlaws they had so long and vainly sought, it was certain they would rush to the attack, a proceeding which would no doubt be fatal to all my hopes, having in view the reward offered for Zoraida’s capture.
I had grown accustomed to this life of sorrow-dogged wandering—now here, now there—so accustomed to it, indeed, that I did not perceive fatigue. Mirthfully we travelled across the verdant, well-wooded tract, with eyes keenly watchful, until at last, when the sun was setting, tinting the beautiful landscape with exquisite lucent colours, amber and gold with amethystine shadows, we came upon the spot, only to find the camp had been struck. The empty tins that had contained preserved foods, the bones, and the black patches on the sand with blackened embers, told their own tale. The Spahis had resaddled their horses and ridden away, we knew not whither! These flying horsemen of the plains rarely remain at one spot for long, and move with a rapidity that is astounding; yet it puzzled Octave considerably, and certainly appeared to me curious, that they should have left their missing comrade to his fate.
Uzanne, dismounting, examined the ground minutely, picked up some of the discarded tins and peered inside them, turned over the dead embers, and occupied himself for some minutes in inspecting the holes whence the tent-poles had been withdrawn. Then, returning to me, he said—
“They left hurriedly. Rations were flung away half eaten, and in some cases there was not even sufficient time to withdraw the tent-pegs!”
“What could have alarmed them?”
“Most probably they expected an attack by the Kanouri. Before I left, a scout had come in with the news that their fighting men were encamped in force in the valley beyond the rocks of Tefraska. We must endeavour to trace the direction in which they have gone.”
The thought flashed across me that each hour I lingered delayed Zoraida’s emancipation.
“Why waste time?” I urged. “What is there to prevent you from accompanying me to Agadez? You have not deserted; your comrades have been compelled to desert you!”
At first he was obdurate. It was his duty, he declared, to rejoin his squadron. But presently, after I had persuaded him by every possible argument to continue his companionship, he at last, with much reluctance, consented. Then once again we turned our faces north-west, towards Dibbela. He had grown gloomy and thoughtful, uttering few words, and giving vent to expressions of impatience whenever his jaded horse stumbled or slackened its pace. The cause of this was not far to seek. Our conversation had turned upon Paris and her people. I had been recounting those happy, ever-to-be-remembered days when I lived four storeys up in the Rue St. Séverin; when, careless Bohemian that I was, the sonnets of Musset thrilled me, the quips of Droz convulsed me, the romances of Sue held me breathless, and the pathos of Mürger caused me to weep. An unsuccessful art student, a persistent hanger-on to the skirts of journalism, I lived the life of the Quartier Latin, and though I oft-times trod the Pont Neuf without a sou, yet I was, nevertheless, supremely happy and content.
“Until now, mine has been but a grim fortune,” I said. “The money that took me out of the world I loved brought me only unhappiness and discontent. It caused me to become cynical, dissatisfied with my English surroundings, dissatisfied with myself. Even now I gaze back with regret upon those blissful hours of idle gossip over our vermouth and our mazagran; those frugal days of desperate struggle to obtain a foothold in literature, those mad, rollicking fêtes du nuit; that pleasant, reckless life, so happily divided between pleasure and toil. How well, too, I recollect those easy-going, laughter-loving children of Bohemia, my boon companions, each of whose purse was ever at the other’s command; how vividly their faces and their bonhomie come back to me, now that I am, alas! no longer of their world, no longer a denizen of the Quartier where the man is not judged by his coat, and wealth commands no favours.”
“You are not ostracised as I am,” he blurted out, with much bitterness. “You have riches; you will win the woman you love, and return to Paris, to Brussels, to London, there to live in happiness; while I—mon Dieu!—I, professing a religion I do not follow, sailing under false colours, eating kousskouss from a wooden platter, broiling always beneath this merciless sun, shall one day fall, pierced by an Arab’s bullet! Bah!—the sooner it is all ended the better.”
“Why meet trouble half-way?” I asked, endeavouring to cheer him. “You have come out to this wild land to efface your identity, because if you had remained in Europe you would have been charged with a crime, the sequel of which would have been the lifelong unhappiness of the woman you love. I admit, your future appears dull and hopeless, but why despair? There may be a day when you will be able to return to her without branding her children as those of a murderer.”
“Never!”
“Tout arrive à point à qui sait attendre,” I observed cheerily. “Ah,” he replied, smiling sadly, “it is a long and weary waiting. Even while she seeks me, I am compelled to go further afield, in order to conceal my existence.”
“I can sympathise with you,” I said. “All of us bear our burdens of sorrow.”
“What sorrow can possess you?” he retorted. “The woman to whose arms you are now flying will accompany you back to civilisation, there to commence a new life. You will show her our world of spurious tinsel and hollow shams; you will educate her as a child into what we call les convenances, teach her what to accept and what to avoid, and she, who to-day is the leader of a band of outlaws, will become an idol of Society. Proud of her beauty, content in her love, you will at last find the perfect peace for which you have been searching, and for which you have risked so much.”
“Of you I will make the same prophetic utterances,” I answered, laughing. “Your life will not always be darkened by this cloud. It is a passing shadow that will be succeeded by sunshine.”
But he only shook his head, sighed, and remained silent.
To the sorrow weighing so heavily upon his brave, generous heart I made no further allusion during the ten days we travelled together, first to the little town of Dibbela,—where he discarded his Spahi’s dress for the white burnouse and fillet of camel’s hair of the Arab of the plain,—then, spurring over the boundless desert of Ndalada, and through the Agram Oasis, until, in the dazzling glare of a brilliant noon, we passed through a clump of palms, and distinguished, in the far distance, the dome and tall square minaret of the great mosque of Agadez.
Approaching, we gradually discerned the high white walls of the city, with its flat-roofed houses rising tier upon tier upon the hillside, centring round the Mesállaje, while in the background the high strong walls of the palace, wherein Zoraida was incarcerated, awaiting my return, loomed stern and sombre against the cloudless cerulean sky.
But I had elucidated the Great Mystery. I had unearthed the treasure that for a thousand years had lain lost deep down in the earth, and as evidence, in my saddle-bags I bore the two priceless diadems and the scroll traced by the powerful Sultan Askiá himself. Ere long the coronet of diamonds would be in Zoraida’s hands; she would open and read the faded record, and the power of the Great White Diadem to release her would then be put to its crucial test. Now that the Secret had been revealed to me in a manner so extraordinary, I doubted nothing. I had implicit confidence in the mystic power of the Diadem, and felt assured that in a few short hours I should hold Zoraida in my arms free, the mysterious trammels that had so long bound her to the Ennitra at last torn asunder.
Suddenly we saw five horsemen galloping out from the deep archway of the city gate towards us. The guard of the Ennitra had evidently discerned us, and, taking us for stragglers unaware of the fall of the young Sultan, were riding forward to capture us.
“They will be disappointed when they meet us,” I exclaimed, laughing. “For the present I am under the protection of their Daughter of the Sun, and you, as my servant, are safe also.”
“Safe—safe!” he cried, a second later, pulling up his horse so quickly that he threw it upon its haunches, and shading his keen, practised eyes with both his hands. “See!—see! Those men who are raising a cloud of sand about them—cannot you recognise them?”
Stopping my camel, I shaded my eyes, and peered eagerly before me. Through the whirling sand raised by their hoofs, and blown by the strong wind before them, I suddenly caught a glimpse of scarlet. Again I fixed my eyes intently upon them, until the sand obscuring them cleared. A second later I was startled, for, to my dismay, I saw that the party consisted of a single Spahi and four Chasseurs d’Afrique!
“What—what does this mean?” I gasped, amazed, with my gaze riveted upon the soldierly figures, sharp cut against the sky, tearing rapidly along in our direction.
“Que diabe! It’s extraordinary! Come, let us hasten to ascertain the truth;” and, suiting the action to the word, he spurred forward, I following his example.
Ten minutes later we met, and after the Spahi had recognised his comrade, and the Chasseurs had satisfied themselves that I was not an Arab, we learned from them that strange and startling events had occurred in Agadez since I had left it. As they rode back again with us at an easy pace, one of the Chasseurs, who had now sheathed his heavy sabre and lit a cigarette, replying to my hasty questions, explained the situation. With a strong Gascon accent, he said—
“The expedition was carefully planned, and carried out with considerable secrecy. Two months ago, when our squadron was at Tuggurt under Captain Carmier, we heard that the Ennitra were moving towards the Ahír, with the intention, apparently, of attacking Agadez. This news was telegraphed from Biskra to the General of Division at Algiers, who at once decided upon the plan of campaign to be carried out by a punitive expedition. Orders were immediately transmitted to the eastern advanced posts, by which a regiment of Spahis were moved to the Tjigrin Oasis, two regiments of Turcos, three battalions of Zouaves, and three batteries of artillery, with some light machine guns, to Tagama, while we of the Chasseurs—encamped outside Azarara, both of which places are four days’ journey south and north respectively from the City of the Ahír. Only the commanding officers knew the object of these movements, and it appears that the plans were so preconcerted that we should combine against the Ennitra just at the moment they marched to the attack of Agadez.”
“You failed to arrive early enough to prevent the massacre,” I observed.
“Yes, unfortunately. Through some delay in the transmission of an order to the Spahis, several days were lost, and when, at last, two weeks ago, our squadrons effected a junction, and we stole silently at midnight, holding our scabbards until we came before yonder walls, we found the city in the possession of the Ennitra, those of its people who survived reduced to slavery, and Hadj Absalam installed in state in the palace. Swiftly we descended upon the place. Yells and savage cries rent the midnight silence. The crash of the volleyed firing sounded high above the shrieks for quarter. There was indescribable panic in the city, and although through the night the conflict was desperate and the Ennitra fought with that dogged courage that has always made them conspicuous, yet the havoc wrought by our machine guns appalled them from the first. Gaining the city walls at dawn, we stormed the Fáda, and by noon had captured the place, and nearly four hundred of the Ennitra, including Hadj Absalam and the man known as Labakan, were prisoners in our hands.”
“And what of Zoraida?” I gasped, with sinking heart.
“You mean, I suppose, the woman, known as Daughter of the Sun? She has been, it is said, leader in most of the marauding expeditions, and on that account a reward was offered by the Government for her capture. It was she who, still in her gorgeous harem dress, rushed out at the first alarm, and led her horde of cut-throats to the defence of the city. Armed with knife and pistol, she plunged with indomitable courage, and with an utter disregard for her life, into the thick of the fight, acting as courageously as any of those wild desert pirates whom she led with such extraordinary tact. Once or twice I caught a glimpse of her as she urged on our yelling and bewildered foe. Report had not lied as to her beauty. Her loveliness was entrancing.”
“Where is she now?” I demanded breathlessly.
“I know not, m’sieur,” the man answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“But surely you know if she still lives?”
“The bodies of some women were found,” he answered carelessly. “It is believed hers was amongst them.”
“My God!” I cried brokenly, turning to Octave, who was riding on my left. “It can’t be true—it can’t be!”
“Wait,” he said quietly. “Seek Carmier. Perhaps the truth has been hidden from the men.”
“M’sieur has asked me a question,” observed the Chasseur, raising his eyebrows; “I have replied to the best of my knowledge.”
“And Hadj Absalam? What has become of him?” I asked, noticing that we were now passing heaps of human bones, already stripped by the vultures and whitened by the sun.
“We captured him when we entered the palace, and imprisoned him in one of the smaller chambers, under a strong guard. He endeavoured to commit suicide, but was prevented.”
I asked no further question. I remembered only the sweet, beautiful face of the brave, fearless woman to whom I owed my life, and who had promised to love me always. How her calm, serious, wistful countenance came up before me! Surely it could not be that I was never to look again into those dark, luminous eyes, so appealing and so true—surely they were not closed for ever in death! Now I had successfully elucidated the mystery that had remained an unsolved problem a thousand years, surely she would not be snatched from me! Yet Zouave guards were resting on their rifles at the gate; in the open space beyond a bugle was sounding, and a word of command shouted in French brought to a halt half a battalion of Turcos in marching order. Agadez was in the possession of the French. Ever extending their territory in the Soudan, they had, while breaking the power of the Ennitra, firmly established themselves at another important advanced post. But at what cost? Alas! at the cost of my happiness!
I was dazed, stupefied. The only idea I could grasp was that all my efforts through long and weary months had been in vain; that I had been unable to save her. Truly, the Omen of the Camel’s Hoof was being fulfilled!
Without pausing to gaze upon the half-burned town, I sped onward to the Fáda, where I was told I should probably discover my friend, Captain Carmier. My search did not occupy long, for I found him in the ruined Hall of the Divan, in conversation with General Seignouret, the elderly officer in command of the expedition.
“You! mon cher Cecil?” cried the Captain gaily, extending his hand as I advanced. “What brings you here?”
“Cannot you guess?” I answered.
“You told me months ago at Tuggurt that you were journeying here to fulfil some strange promise you had made to a woman. You little expected to find us here before you—eh?” he asked, laughing.
“When I was your guest on my way south, I could not tell you the object of my journey, as I had promised to keep it secret.”
“Well, the woman must have been particularly fascinating to have induced you to undertake such a risky journey, especially with Hadj Absalam’s band scouring the Desert.”
“You will admit, I think, that she was fascinating,” I said as quietly as I could. “Her name was Zoraida.”
“Dieu! Not the woman who is known as Daughter of the Sun?”
“The same. She has promised to become my wife. Take me to her. Let me speak with her,” I urged, frantic with impatience.
“Alas! mon ami! I regret I cannot,” he replied, shaking his head sorrowfully.
“She surely is not dead?”
“No—not dead. She is a prisoner, and, with Hadj Absalam and a man called Labakan, is on her way, under a strong escort, to Algiers.”
“To Algiers?” I gasped, dismayed.
“It is unfortunate that she of all women should have fascinated you,” observed General Seignouret, who had been standing by, “because her career has been a terrible one. The Ministry in Paris gave orders for her capture months ago, and offered a heavy reward, which my men here have at last won. I have now sent her to Algiers for trial.”
“She is innocent. She hated the life; those scenes of bloodshed and horrible barbarities appalled and nauseated her,” I cried in passionate protest. “Her strange position had been thrust upon her by sheer ill-fortune. Tell me, for what crimes will she be tried?”
“For outlawry and murder,” the General answered abruptly. “And the punishment?”
“Why think more of her?” he suggested, casting away the end of his cigarette. “It is useless to still contemplate marriage, for her freedom is impossible when the punishment for either offence is the guillotine.”
“The guillotine?” I cried, in mad despair. “And your men are dragging her onward—onward across the Desert to a cruel, ignominious, and brutal end?”
“Think of the massacre of Deschanel and his brave Spahis, of the many raids whereby unarmed caravans have been looted, and their owners butchered; think of the hundreds of our men who have been ruthlessly murdered or horribly tortured by the fiendish band under the leadership of this pretty savage! It was her presence, her voice, that urged on the Ennitra to the frightful massacre and awful barbarities after this city had fallen into their hands; and again she commanded her people in their desperate defence of the city when we endeavoured to take the place by surprise.”
“But I tell you the leadership was forced upon her against her will by those ferocious brutes!” I said warmly. “Ah! you do not know her as well as I.”
“We know her quite sufficiently to be aware that her crimes have cost many of our unfortunate comrades their lives, and that the death sentence is the only one that can be passed upon her. The Government are determined the punishment in her case shall be exemplary,” the stern old General answered, turning from me to take a dispatch that had just been brought in by a Spahi messenger.
“Come, old fellow,” Cannier whispered, taking me kindly by the arm and leading me forth into the once-beautiful harem-garden. “Forget this woman. For her it must certainly be either the lunette or La Nouvelle. No effort of yours can ever give her freedom. Besides, think of her past; is she, after all, worth troubling about?”
“Worth troubling about? Yes,” I answered promptly, turning upon him angrily. “Why should you judge her thus? You only know her by the idle and exaggerated gossip of the camp; yet you believe her to be a bloodthirsty harridan, delighting in scenes of massacre and pillage, a woman who regarded every caravan, every Zouave, and every Chasseur as her lawful and natural prey!”
“No, not a harridan by any means!” he exclaimed. “I admit her beauty and grace is unsurpassed. She is by far the most lovely woman I have ever seen—and I have seen a few beauties in my time at Royat, Etretat, Biarritz, and Trouville.”
“I am not discussing her countenance, mon ami” I continued, with perhaps undue warmth. “I am asking why you condemn her. Tell me, have the authorities any direct evidence that she has ever been guilty of murder?”
He hesitated, rolling a fresh cigarette thoughtfully.
“Well—no,” he answered. “As far as I am aware, there is no specific case upon which they rely.”
“Then they intend to transport her to New Caledonia for life, or perhaps even drag her to the guillotine, merely to deter other tribes from defying French rule!” I said, biting my lip.
“Sapristi! It is useless to argue with you,” he answered quickly. “You are fascinated by her, and, of course, will believe no ill. In your eyes she is simply a paragon of virtue. Therefore, the fewer words we exchange upon the painful topic the better.”
“You have declared my inability to save her,” I exclaimed with anger, indignant at his prejudice against her and at the thought of her, a prisoner, roughly handled by the uncouth Chasseurs, who even at that moment were hurrying her with all speed over the Desert towards Algiers. “You predict that all my efforts will be in vain; nevertheless, I shall follow, and do my best.”
“If you attempt to rescue her from the custody of the escort, you will without doubt get a bullet in your head.”
“I need no warnings,” I snapped; but further words were cut short by the sudden reappearance of General Seignouret, who, advancing to my friend, exclaimed—
“I must send an urgent dispatch to headquarters at Algiers. Whom do you recommend to carry it?”
“I am starting at once for Algiers,” I said; then, turning to Carmier, I urged, “Send Octave Uzanne, the Spahi. He is my friend.”
“Uzanne?—Uzanne?” repeated the Captain reflectively. “Ah! I remember, I have heard of him. He was a survivor of Deschanel’s detachment, and a valiant fellow. Yes, he shall bear the message.”
“In an hour it will be ready,” the General said; then, turning, he strode back into the Hall of the Divan, his spurs jingling, and his scabbard trailing over the polished floor that still bore ugly stains of blood.
“So you really intend setting out again on this fool’s errand?” Carmier asked, when his General had gone.
“I do. I must—I will save her.”
“Bah! Was she not a sorceress, a priestess of that strange secret society the Senousya, of which we can discover nothing; was she not indeed an inmate of Hadj Absalam’s harem, a—”
“Nothing you can allege against her can deter me from the strenuous endeavour I am about to make,” I interrupted, with firmness. “She shall not be snatched from me, for I love her. Be she innocent or guilty, I will save her!”
But, with a cynical smile, he shrugged his shoulders, and, turning on his heel, walked away.