"So far, Jack, you and Mr. Zaranko seem to have had most of the fun," pronounced my cousin Betty, as we sat at luncheon in the Kings' private sittingroom in the Pera Palace.
Watkins for the moment acted as butler, and we were safe from inquisitive ears and could talk with freedom.
"What interests me," said Hugh thoughtfully, "is how many of those Johnnies you scragged last night."
"Only the one, I think," replied Nikka.
"You hit another chap," I reminded him.
"Yes, but two off their strength doesn't mean any great reduction in their fighting force."
"Still, counting in those two and the men they sent off with their women, as Nikka's pals reported, they'll be a good bit weaker than they were," argued Hugh.
"Just the same," insisted Betty, "we ought not to run any unnecessary risks."
"Who's we?" I inquired.
"See here, Jack," she flashed, "because you're my cousin is no reason why you can bully me. You might as well understand that I am in this, and I am going to have my part in whatever we do."
"Hear, hear," Hugh applauded servilely.
Nikka laughed.
"How about it, Vernon?" I demanded of my uncle.
He spread his hands in a gesture of depreciation.
"My dear Jack," he said, "you evidently have small acquaintance with the younger feminine generation. Betty is of legal age—I trust, my dear, you have no objection to the revelation of an intimate detail your sex are supposed to cherish in secret?—"
"Not a particle, dad," Betty responded cheerfully.
"—and within reasonable limits, her judgment is to be depended upon. Moreover, a not unimportant consideration is that she knows how to run a motor, and in our excursions in the Curlew her aid has been of some value.",
"Don't be stuffy, Jack," urged Hugh. "Give the girl a chance. There are lots of things she can do, short of mixing it with your friend Toutou. I gather that Nikka's lady friend in the hostile camp was not averse—"
"That's a different matter," I interrupted, perceiving the embarrassment on Nikka's face.
We had slurred over Kara's personal interest in his fortunes, but even so, the incident, to quote Betty's analysis, was "romantic to the nth degree."
"I don't see that it is," asserted Betty stubbornly, "and I intend to play my part. You are short-handed—"
"You forget that Nikka has seven men hidden away in Stamboul," I reminded her.
"On the contrary, I take them into account," she retorted. "But you have all been saying that it is advisable not to use them, except in a final emergency."
"That is true," agreed Nikka. "The more we bring into this row, the noisier it will become. Also, as we decided before, we ought to have an ace or two in the hole. Take my advice, and hang on to Wasso Mikali and his young men to the last."
"I'm not disputing you," said Betty, still belligerent. "What you say is only what I've been saying. But would you mind telling me why you are so set against using your Gypsies?"
"If we use them there will be killing on a big scale," said Nikka succinctly. "That sort of thing is bound to become known."
"I met Riley-Gratton, the O.C. of the M.P.s this morning, and he gave me a wad of town gossip," cut in Hugh, "but he didn't say anything about our lads' scrap at Tokalji's house."
"Oh, we can get away with it once or maybe twice," returned Nikka, "but if we keep it up we'll run into trouble."
"No question of it," I said.
"Then what are we arguing about?"' demanded Betty.
I laughed.
"Darn it all," I confessed. "You won't let up, will you? Well, have it your own way. What do you want to do?"
"Run you down the Bosphorus after dark for a look at Tokalji's house from the water side," she answered promptly.
Hugh intervened.
"There's no question in the minds of you two chaps but that any attack ought to come from the water front, is there?" he asked.
"It couldn't very well come from the street," replied Nikka. "There's a high, windowless wall and a strong door, and even in that lawless quarter publicity would attend an armed invasion of private property."
"Of course," said Betty, her head in the air, "it couldn't be any other way. Now tell us some more about the hiding-place of the treasure."
Nikka shrugged his shoulders and looked at me.
"What more can we say?" I answered. "There's the courtyard and the red stone."
"It's not hollow, you said?" spoke up King.
"No."
"That would indicate a task of some difficulty in prying loose the covering of the treasure chamber," he remarked. "We have—or rather, I should say, Betty has—taken precautions to install on board the Curlew an equipment of crowbars, pick-axes, shovels, chisels and other tools—"
"—and a knotted rope with a grapnel on the end to help in going up the sea-wall," reminded Betty.
"True, my dear. Your forethought has been admirable. What I was about to say, however, was that a certain amount of time—I fear, perhaps, an inordinate amount of time—will be required to pry loose the covering of the vault. How are we to secure ourselves such an opportunity?"
"By choosing a time when the occupants of the house are off-watch and their numbers diminished," declared Hugh.
"True," agreed Nikka, "yet I confess I don't see how—"
And to make a long story short we hashed it over all afternoon until tea-time, without arriving at any clearer view of the outlook before us. By that time we were sick of the discussion, and voted to suspend. Vernon King and Betty went to a reception at the British High Commissioner's, and the rest of us planned to take a walk on the chance of running into Wasso Mikali, who had promised to come over to Pera in the afternoon if his spies picked up any additional information.
The first person we saw in the hotel lobby was Montey Hilyer. He hailed us in front of the booking-office.
"I say, Chesby," he drawled in tones that reached all the bystanders, "I don't know what sort of a lark you fellows were up to last night, but really, you know, you can't take liberties with natives in the East—and especially, with their women. Really, old chap, you ought to be careful. In your place, I think I'd clear out of Constantinople. No knowing what kind of trouble you may get into."
Hugh was furious. He looked Hilyer up and down with cold scorn.
"Are you taking a flyer in blackmail, by any chance?" he asked deliberately.
"Not yet," answered Hilyer cheerfully. "No knowing, though. Matter of fact, at present, I'm protecting some poor natives who fear they are going to be victimized by a gang of foreigners."
"Well, whatever you are doing, I should prefer that you keep away from me in the future," said Hugh. "I can't afford to have the Jockey Club stewards hear that I've been talking to you."
As it happened, the one episode in Hilyer's piebald past that irked his pride and aroused sore memories was his suspension from the privileges of the turf. He was cynically indifferent to every other charge brought against him. But the man was a sincere horseman, his racing ventures had been the breath of life to him, his disgrace and compulsion to enter his thoroughbreds under other men's colors had been a bitter blow. And he showed this feeling now. His face went dead-white; his nostrils pinched in.
"All right, Chesby," he said curtly, "I won't forget that."
And he disappeared into the bar.
"Curse the rotter," muttered Hugh. "I'm glad something will flick him on the raw."
"You were hard on him," said Nikka seriously. "After all, why should you mind anything that he can say?"
"He was hoping that Miss King was within hearing distance," retorted Hugh. "He said what he did deliberately to smear smut on all of us. A dog like that doesn't deserve consideration."
"Some people believe a dog does deserve consideration, Lord Chesby," said a feminine voice behind us.
We turned to face Hélène de Cespedes. The Countess Sandra Vassilievna was with her. Maude Hilyer, her face as ghastly as her husband's, was hurrying away from them.
"You may be enemies, but why should you make a woman cry?" added the Russian girl. "She will be unhappy for the rest of the day."
"I'm very sorry," answered Hugh stiffly, "but do you sincerely believe that her husband is entitled to insult me in public?"
"It was a rotten thing he said," admitted Hélène frankly. "And of course, he is a rotter. But as I told you boys once, they are a queer pair, and Maudey—well, she really thinks that if they ever get to a state of affluence, they can both turn around and live straight. It's damned silly, but—do you believe in fairies? Those who don't, generally envy those who do."
"We don't believe in fairies," I answered good-temperedly, "and we also don't believe in letting a man who is a thief get away with a gratuitous insult."
"Oh, you're right," said Sandra Vassilievna impartially, "from your own point of view. But I'm going up to tell Maudey that she'll only ruin her complexion if she weeps for what an offensively honest man says to her."
Hélène laughed as the Russian walked off.
"Women are almost as funny as men, aren't they?" she said. "Oh, say, before I forget it, Mr. Nash, you want to look out for that girl's brother. You slammed him one or two in that fight at Chesby, and he's had it in for you ever since. And after last night, all the men are wild. If that Gypsy Tokalji catches you—phew! Oh, boy! And Toutou!"
"They weren't able to catch us last night," returned Nikka. "They aren't likely to have as good a chance again."
"You put up a great fight," she agreed. "Oh, I'm handing it to you, all of you! You're the best little bunch I ever ran across. Say, I wouldn't believe an English lord could be as much of a hustler as you, Lord Chesby. Your uncle, he—"
She shrugged.
"What about my uncle?" asked Hugh eagerly. "D'you mind telling how your push got on to him?"
"N-no, I suppose there's no harm now," she answered slowly. "Poor old fellow! I was darned sorry he was croaked. We none of us— Well, what's the use talking? That Toutou is a devil, Mr. Nash knows it. I only hope he and the rest of you don't get to know him any better. But about your uncle, Lord Chesby. He was a cinch. He ran around here like a kid in a game of 'Cops-and-thieves.' Everybody knew he was up to something. The authorities thought he was just a nut. But when he took to snooping around Tokalji's house, our folks got wise to it he might be on to something good. Tokalji's tribe have always had this tradition of a treasure— But you know about that. Tokalji had been working with us since before the War, and he realized this was more than he could tackle by himself, so he called on Toutou. The rest is what's going to happen."
"And that?" asked Hugh, grinning.
"My dear young lord, you'll lose your shirt—if not your life," she retorted airily.
"Tough luck," said Hugh, "but your people have got to do better, in that case."
"You're dead right," she agreed. "Say, Mr. Zaranko, on the level now, did that girl of Tokalji's sell out to you last night?"
Nikka stared at her blankly, his face a perfect mask.
"We had a good deal of trouble with her," he returned. "Had to tie her up. She was right on our heels, with her knife."
Hélène shook her head.
"Ye-es, that's true, but—I saw her this morning. Humph! Maybe I'm a fool. I told Toutou to mind his own business, and not mix into the tribe's affairs. Tokalji said she was all right, and that ought to be enough."
"God help Toutou if he went after her," I said facetiously.
Hélène gave me a quick glance.
"Maybe you're right," she said. "I've often wondered what Toutou would do against a woman who used a knife. He—he gets 'em in a different way. Well, I'm babbling, which is a sign of old age. Be good, boys, and give up before you get into serious trouble. As ever, your well-wisher, Hélène."
And she tripped off.
"What a delightful criminal," I remarked. "Somehow I don't mind so much the idea of being plucked by her."
"You're losing your perspective," growled Hugh, who was in a righteous frame of mind, partly because he was in love and partly because of his clash with Hilyer. "A crook is a crook. They're all against us. I don't know but that the women are the most dangerous where you are concerned, Jack. Why are you so damned susceptible?"
At which I laughed. Nikka, walking beside us, had no ears for our conversation. His thoughts were on that slim, brown Tzigane maid about whom Hélène de Cespedes had inquired. But he woke up a block farther on, when a big, turbanned figure shambled past us, with a guttural exclamation from the corner of his mouth. At the next corner there was a traffic block, and we grouped casually around Wasso Mikali.
"Tokalji's women and children are in camp beyond Boghazkeui on the edge of the Forest of Belgrade," he murmured, staring at a fat Turkish Pasha who was rolling by in a Daimler. "There are five men with them. Five other men have left Sokaki Masyeri since morning. If Franks were there they have gone."
"It is good, my uncle," returned Nikka, affecting to speak to Hugh. "Continue the watch. If there is more to report bid one of your young men lounge before the khan where we are staying to-morrow in the forenoon."
"It shall be done," said the old man, and he elbowed his way through our ranks as though in haste to cross over.
I looked behind us for the inevitable spies. There were several Levantines in European dress and tarboosh on the corner—and Hilmi Bey, who pretended that he was not noticing us. His attitude was that of scorning to spy and hating to have it supposed that he could demean himself to so plebeian a phase of crime. I called a greeting to him in derision.
"Are you walking our way?" I asked.
"I have a house in the Rue Midhat Pasha," he answered effusively. "I am going to visit my wives. It is a long time since I have seen them. Don't let me detain you, gentlemen. I turn right at the opposite corner."
"A vain dog," commented Nikka, sourly watching Hilmi's plump back. "He was afraid to be caught in such an ordinary undertaking.'
"Well," said Hugh, whose temper had improved, "it goes to show that criminals are human beings. Every one of these birds seems to have some sense of shame if you can only pick out the right point of contact."
We led our escorts—for we took it for granted that we were under observation—a dilatory stroll, and arrived back at the Pera Palace in time for dinner, which, as usual, we had served in the King's sitting room. It was a leisurely meal, for we had time to kill. There was an early moon, and we wanted it to set before the Curlew left the Golden Horn.
After Watkins had brought the coffee, Betty excused herself. She returned in a quarter of an hour dressed in a warm sport suit instead of the light evening frock she had worn, and carrying two boxes of cartridges.
"Have you all got your pistols loaded?" she inquired. "Watkins? Daddy?"
"I think so, my dear," answered her father absent-mindedly. "I wish, Jack, that you had observed more carefully the carvings on that colonnade. It may be truly ancient or— What? What is it, Betty?"
She deftly frisked him, and examined his automatic.
"Yes, it's all right," she said, returning it to him. "And for Heaven's sake remember, Dad, that the safety lock is on. Here's an extra clip. Watkins?"
Watkins set down the tray of coffee-cups, and cautiously hauled his weapon from his hip-pocket.
"Quite right, I think, ma'am, Miss King," he replied.
"Here's an extra clip for you, too. Boys?"
"You don't catch old campaigners like us with empty weapons," I jeered. "It isn't we who'll be getting into trouble."
"I wish I could be sure of that," she retorted. "Most likely I'll be trying to pull you out of a scrape twenty-four hours from now. But let's get started. We have a car at the side entrance to run us down to the Man-o'-war Landing, where the Curlew is moored."
If the spies were still watching the hotel, as I have no doubt they were, we gave them the slip. We went downstairs together, and shot into the closed car which was in waiting, Watkins sitting beside the chauffeur. Ten minutes later we drew up on the Curlew's dock, secure from observation because of the British marine sentries who stood guard at the dock-gates.
The Curlew was a handy craft, decked over forward, with a roomy cockpit and a good, heavy-duty Mercedes engine. She was nothing to look at, but reliable and efficient. Betty, who was an experienced yachtswoman, automatically assumed command, and Hugh and Watkins as automatically accepted the rôle of crew. Vernon King, Nikka and I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.
"Lay for'ard, Hugh, and slack off that bow-line," ordered Betty energetically. "How is the engine, Watkins? Very well, turn it over."
There was a splutter, and then the steady "put-put-put."
"Cast off that bow-line, Hugh! Lay aft, Watkins. Is the stern-line slack? Pay out! Let go! Get out from under my feet, Jack. No, Daddy, you can't have a cigar—nothing but running-lights. I'd douse those if I weren't afraid of the Navy people. Mr. Zaranko, d'you mind dropping into the cabin and taking a look at the tools we laid in?"
We chugged slowly through the glut of shipping in the Golden Horn, edging away from the Galata shore toward the picturesque bulk of Stamboul. Seraglio Point loomed ahead of us, high, rugged, tree-covered, dotted with infrequent lights. We rounded it, the lighthouse twinkling on our starboard beam, and turned southwest into the Bosphorus, with the wide sweep of the Marmora just ahead. To port the outline of Scutari and the suburbs on the Asiatic shore showed dimly. To starboard Stamboul towered, white and ghostly and serenely beautiful, more than ever the magic city of the Arabian Nights. The steamer from Rodosto and other Marmoran ports steamed past us with a swash and gurgle. A belated fishing-boat flapped by. Then we had the waters to ourselves.
"Have you the night-glasses, Hugh?" questioned Betty. "See if you can make out the St. Sophia minarets." And to us: "That's our first landfall in making Tokalji's house. Watkins, I think it ought to be safe now to douse the running-lights."
Hugh leaned forward across the cabin-roof, resting on his elbows, eyes glued to the glasses.
"Right O," he called back. "I'm on them—and I can see that big old tower of the sea-walls that lies this side of the jetty."
Betty cut off the engine.
"Fetch the sweeps, Watkins," she whispered. "We'll pull in. Quiet, everybody."
Hugh and Watkins unlashed two heavy oars from the cabin roof and thrust them outboard through oarlocks rivetted to the cockpit railing. Side by side, in unison, they pulled with a long, deliberate stroke, while Betty steered. It was no easy task to move that launch across the swift-flowing tide of the Bosphorus, and it seemed an endless time before the blurred mass of the shoreline, becoming visible to our unaided sight, furnished an index to the progress we were making.
"Nikka and I can relieve them," I offered as the rowers began to pant.
"You haven't done it before," answered Betty shortly. "You might splash."
Indeed, the oars made scarcely a ripple as they were lifted, feathered and dipped, tedious as was the effort imposed both by their weight and the size of the launch.
"Much farther?" Hugh gritted between clenched teeth.
"The jetty is right ahead," Betty reassured him. "You had better get forward, Dad, and be ready to fend off the rocks."
Vernon King climbed up on the cabin roof and crawled into the bow. Nikka and I strained our eyes endeavoring to identify the details of the shore. To the right, and already a little astern of us, was a huge round tower, one of the bulwarks of the ancient walls. Other than this there was only a dim range of masonry, the city walls, for the most part, crowned by houses. Not a light showed opposite to us.
Presently, letting our eyes drop lower, we descried immediately in front a low breakwater, a jagged pile of rocks that ran out from the shore in the form of a blunted hook. Betty, steering carefully, brought the Curlew inside the hook and bow-on to the shore, so that the launch was protected from the current that flowed through the Strait. King scrambled ashore and made fast a line around one of the rocks, then felt his way back along the slippery footing of the breakwater and stepped into the cockpit. Hugh and Watkins unshipped the sweeps and laid them on the cabin roof.
All of us were staring at the blank darkness of the shoreline, tense and watchful; but my uncle's interest was still largely of an antiquarian nature.
"Do you appreciate how extraordinarily fortunate we are to have this ruined jetty to moor to?" he whispered excitedly. "No galleys in the old days were ever able to assail these seaward walls because of the currents. Without protection, we, too, should be smashed to pieces if we tried to lie under them. But this place evidently was one of the walls of a harbor for the Imperial galleys. It was, of course, fortified. This hook terminated in a strong tower. A second hook—"
"Daddy, Daddy," remonstrated Betty, "you aren't lecturing to-night. We—we're reconnoitering the enemy's position."
Hugh had been studying the shore again through the night-glasses.
"Not a sign of life," he murmured. "Now, you chaps, show us the lay of the land."
Nikka and I, with the help of the glasses, plotted for the others the arrangement of Tokalji's establishment. There was the brick extension of the bachelors' quarters, crowning a part of the sea-wall. There was the gap between this structure and the House of the Married, which was shut in only by the crenellated height of the wall. And finally, there was the House of the Married, with the Garden of the Cedars concealed within its heart, lifting its solid bulk above all adjoining buildings. There were no windows on the seaward face of Tokalji's house.
"The old wall between the two wings—between the bachelors' quarters and warehouse and the House of the Married—ought to be easy to climb," I concluded.
"The wall of the House of the Married is very irregular, too," added Betty. "We have passed it close in a number of times by daylight, and we all agreed an active man could climb it."
"That's a good idea," approved Nikka. "If you could enter by the House of the Married you could seize the valuable part of the position first. Sound military strategy."
"Yes," assented Hugh, "you could consolidate your position—how the old lingo comes back, though!—and then occupy the rest of the place as convenient. By Jove, if you didn't want to occupy it, you could—"
"Oh, you'd have to occupy it," I interrupted. "I say, do you know that place looks deserted?"
"There's somebody there, never fear," rejoined Betty.
"According to Nikka's uncle, a good part of the garrison were withdrawn to-day," returned Hugh.
"There is no use hurrying," cautioned my uncle. "We shall have plenty of opportunities."
"There is good reason for striking when you are not expected," retorted Hugh.
Nobody answered him. We were all staring hungrily at the shadowy shape of the House of the Married, towering above the seawall. It hypnotized us. We were enthralled by the unfathomable mysteries it suggested, by the knowledge of the mighty prize it contained.
"There's no time like the present," I said softly.
"Yes, they won't be looking for us so soon again," agreed Nikka. "They will be figuring that we had enough of a fright last night."
"Perhaps you are right," surrendered Vernon King. "Audacity, we are frequently told, is the favored bride of fortune. I must admit that this place exerts a lure which arouses in me certain primitive instincts I had supposed were finally cured or buried.'
"You mean, Dad," said Betty, "that you feel like being foolish with the others."
"Oh, come, Bet," protested Hugh, "this is no time for squabbling. What could be more unexpected than a raid from us to-night? They probably think, as Nikka says, that we will go slow after last night, and they don't even know we are out here."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," rejoined Betty.
"Besides," I said, "their force is so depleted that we couldn't have a better opportunity."
"They may be reinforced."
"Nonsense," said Hugh. "Watty, bring out those tools. We shall want the rope for climbing and a couple of crowbars. If we need anything else we can send back for it."
Watkins, who had preserved a respectful silence throughout our debate, cleared his throat apologetically.
"I beg your ludship's pardon, but—but—you'll not be going into that den of thieves at this hour of the night, sir?"
"Certainly, Watty. It will be easier 'at this hour of the night' than in broad daylight."
"But—but—your ludship! Mister Hugh, sir! It's flying in the face of Providence, if I may say so—after what 'appened to Mister Jack and Mister Nikka, sir—there's no knowing what those devils 'ave waitin' for you."
I am ashamed to say that we all chuckled as loudly as we dared at Watkins's fears.
"You can stay in the boat with Miss Betty, if you'd rather," said Hugh.
Without a word, Watkins dropped down the cabin hatchway.
"Why do you single me out to be left behind?" demanded Betty indignantly.
"Because, Betty, you can't climb that wall—and somebody has got to be ready to start the engine and get us away in a hurry."
"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "Well, don't blame me if anything goes wrong. Of all the hare-brained—"
"Rats!" I scoffed. "If they jump us, and there are too many of them, we'll retreat. But maybe we can clean up this job to-night for good and all. If we can, it's worth trying."
Watkins emerged from the cabin with the tools and the expression of a martyr. Nikka insisted that he was the best climber in the party, and took charge of the rope. Hugh and I carried the crowbars, which we wrapped in sailcloth to prevent their clinking against the stones of the wall. Then we stepped on to the slimy rocks of the jetty, Nikka in the lead.
It was a perilous climb to the shore, and we negotiated it slowly, helping one another and taking every precaution to avoid making any noise. At last we found ourselves in the jumble of bowlders constituting the breakwater at the foot of the sea-wall, which reared its moss-grown battlements high overhead. We turned to the left here, and crawled over and through the rocks on the beach to a point under the overhanging wall of the House of the Married. From the beach it looked unclimbable, but Nikka, after surveying its mounting courses, shattered and riven by centuries of neglect, by earthquakes and the ceaseless battering of the waves, removed his shoes and started the ascent, an end of the grapnel-rope looped around his waist.
We who watched him stood with knocking hearts for what seemed an eternity. Spread-eagled against the wall, he appeared as infinitesimal as a fly in the darkness. At first we could see him when he slipped and caught himself or sprawled or clutched for handholds. But soon he became an indistinct blotch on the masonry, and we held our breath, helpless now to aid him. Our first knowledge that he had succeeded came when he jerked up the grapnel lying on the beach at our feet. He hoisted it slowly, lest it clash against the wall, adjusted its prongs and tossed down the knotted length of rope.
Hugh followed him with ease, bracing his feet against the wall when he was tired. Then I went up. Then my uncle. Watkins came last. We stood, bending low, on the seaward verge of the roof over which Nikka and I had fled the previous night. It was now well towards midnight, and a haze was settling over the city. The Curlew was invisible even to us who knew precisely her location. The large courtyard to our right was a mere blot; the Garden of the Cedars in front of us was marked by the whispering tops of its two trees. The silence was absolute. The water lapped on the beach below. That was all.
Naturally and by right, Hugh took command. It was his expedition.
"Do we go down through the trapdoor Jack and Nikka used or do we use the rope to drop directly into the Garden?" he asked.
"Best use the trapdoor," advised Nikka.
"Yes," I agreed. "Then the rope will always be handy in case you want to escape."
"Right O!" endorsed Hugh cheerfully. "Jack, you and Nikka will come with me. Professor King and Watty will be rearguard and second-line for emergency use. Stay where you are, Professor, until you hear from us."
"But do you consider it advisable, in full accord with military strategy, to divide your forces?" objected my uncle. "Surely—"
"We can handle twice our number," replied Hugh. "If there are more than that we'll call on you. But you and Watty aren't as used to scrapping as we are, and it wouldn't be fair to mix you in it if it can be avoided. Come on, lads."
We crossed the roof toward Sokaki Masyeri, the large courtyard on our right, the Garden of the Cedars on our left. The trapdoor was shut, but unfastened, and Hugh lifted it. The ladder was in place under it. Hugh lowered himself gently, and creaked down to the floor. We followed him. The room was in pitch-darkness, but we made certain by touch that it was empty. The bed from which Nikka and I had cut the cords lay exactly as we had left it, the clothes tumbled over the foot. The door to the hall was off its hinges, but propped in place.
"I've picked up a chair-leg," Nikka whispered by the broken door. "You fellows use your crowbars if—"
He paused significantly.
"Right," Hugh whispered back. "Can we lift this door aside?"
The hinges rattled slightly as we shifted it. The next moment we peered through a yawning cavity, ears alert. Not a sound reached us, and we stole forward with the utmost care. Midway of the hall were the corkscrew stairs up which Kara had guided Nikka and me. I judged we were close to them when a door jarred beside us. There was a shout, and we were surrounded by a mob of half-seen figures. They poured from the head of the stairs as well as from the rooms opening off the hall in which they had lain concealed. They were all around us, but in the darkness they got in each other's way, and I thought we could beat them off.
A man seized me by the shoulder, and I drove my fist into his face. Two others leaped on me. I cracked the skull of one with my crowbar, and broke the arm of the second. Hugh in front of me was driving his opponents down the stairs. I heard Nikka exclaim once, then a gasp—and a light flashed, three lights flashed. Hugh had cleared a space, but went down as I looked, throttled from behind. Nikka was just rising from beside a man whose head was crushed in. Then the rush began again.
I reached for my pistol, but did not have time to draw it. The attackers surged in from all sides. I had a fleeting glimpse of Hilmi Bey. Serge Yassilievich ran up the stair. I heard somewhere the snarling voice of Toutou LaFitte.
"Jack, hold them for me!" cried Nikka. "Must warn—King!"
I swung my crowbar in a circle, and backed towards Nikka's voice. He had shaken himself clear.
"In that door—opposite—reach window!" he gasped.
We charged and split a path toward the door of one of the rooms. As we reached it, a pair of gorilla-like arms wound around my neck. I tried to hit over my shoulder with the crowbar, but somebody caught my wrist. As I fell I heard Nikka's cry:
"Run, Professor! Save Betty! We're—"
That was all. Toutou had me on the floor and was choking the life out of me. I lost consciousness.
When I came to I was lying on a very damp, hard floor. Several lights dazzled my aching eyes, and a number of people were talking in French.
"Ha, Nash is with us again," said Hilyer's voice. "I was afraid you might have done him in, Toutou."
"If you take my advice,"—I recognized Hilmi Bey's falsetto tones—"you will have Toutou operate on all three of them. He has ways to make silent men speak. Do you remember Rattner, the Swiss broker, Toutou?"
Toutou's answer was an almost indistinguishable "guhr-rrrr-rrr-rr" of rage.
Alive now to the position I was in, I opened my eyes wider and tried to rise. But I was bound hand and foot, and could not move. I could, however, see where I was. Not far away Hugh and Nikka were propped against the stone wall of a chamber, which I suppose you could call a dungeon. It had no window. The one door was open. The floor sloped gradually toward the center, where there was a square stone grating about two feet square.
But the most interesting aspect of my surroundings was the group in the doorway. Toutou stood in front, his green eyes sparkling with hate and lust. Hilmi Bey fawned at his elbow. Serge Yassilievich and Hilyer were there. Tokalji frowned at us, hand on his knife-hilt, Hélène de Cespedes and Sandra Vassilievna, in their modish costumes, looked singularly out of place. They lent a touch of unreality to what was otherwise a singularly brutish picture. As I looked, Hélène stepped forward.
"Help Mr. Nash to sit up, Montey," she said.
He looked from her to Toutou.
"Oh, it won't prevent his answering questions," she snapped. "Please do as I say."
He raised me not ungently to a sitting position. Hugh and Nikka grinned at me.
"The question before the house," said Hugh, "is what route to Hades we are to take, and the preliminary stages of discomfort we shall undergo to satisfy the head devil over there and his assistants."
"You are in a serious fix," continued Hélène. "Joking won't help you any. I've tried to make you boys understand that the Boches were merciful enemies compared to us. We don't recognize civilization. For us it doesn't exist. We have gone back to primal principles. Now we've got you, and you've got to talk."
"Words, words," lamented Hilmi viciously. "Let Toutou take his knife to them. That will do the trick."
Tokalji evidently understood the purport of this, for he rasped a quick assent. Toutou flashed a long, stiletto-like blade, and stepped toward us.
"I'll carve them," he purred. "They do not look now as they will when I have finished with them. Ha, yes, Toutou's knife knows the way to truth. Soon they will be asking to die."
But Hilyer jumped in front of him. The Englishman's thin face was aflame with temper.
"I'll stand for a good deal," he said, "but I won't permit torture. You are a fool, Toutou. You'd only kill them the way you did the old lord. Here, you people, we must call him off. He'll spoil the whole show."
Sandra backed him up, and compelled her brother somewhat sullenly to join in the protest. But Hilmi Bey and Tokalji energetically took the opposing side.
"They have killed three more of my men," howled the Gypsy. "Shall they sow death through my tribe, and live unharmed?"'
"They shall," declared Hélène calmly.
She stepped beside Toutou, and placed her fingers on his wrist. Her eyes sought his. He snarled in his cat-like fashion, and drew away from her. But she fearlessly came closer to him, and slowly, under the compulsion of her fingers, he returned the knife to its sheath.
"Hilmi Bey!" she rapped.
The Levantine bowed before her.
"If you spoil this play," she said coldly, "I will kill you with my own hand. Keep out of what concerns your betters, pig!"
He cringed to her, and would have answered. But she silenced him with a wave of the hand.
"There has been enough of this," she went on. "Mr. Nash, do you join with your friends in refusing to give up your secret?"
I nodded.
"Very well," she answered, "we will leave you to think it over. If you are wise, you will understand that having blundered into this trap—as you must have blundered sooner or later—the best you can hope for is life in exchange for what we want. I cannot continue to save you from the cruelty of those of us who relish brutal measures. There is a limit to my patience, too. I advise you to make intelligent use of the next twenty-four hours. You cannot be saved. Your friends cannot reach you. The authorities cannot intervene. If they did, you would disappear. You have twenty-four hours more."
They took all the lanterns, except one, and went out, locking the door after them.
"Well, this is a nice mess I got you chaps into," said Hugh unhappily.
"It's not your fault any more than it is ours," returned Nikka. "We walked squarely into a trap and were bagged. That's all."
"Were they ready for us?" I asked with what interest my aching head would permit.
Hugh laughed with hollow mirth.
"That girl Hélène has an uncanny mind. She told the others, when their trailers reported they had lost us, to watch out for a raid on Tokalji's premises. They were so exultant over it that they blabbed everything. They didn't hear the Curlew or see her. They didn't know we were here until we raised the trapdoor. But they were prepared for us no matter which way we came. They had brought in every man they could trust. We didn't have a chance."
"Did the Kings and Watty get away?"
"Must have. Hélène and the others said nothing about them."
"I hope they will not try anything foolish in the way of a rescue," said Nikka. "If Wasso Mikali establishes touch with them, I am afraid they may be tempted to do something."
"There is nothing they can do," answered Hugh. "Our goose is cooked. We're kaput, finished. As Hélène said, if the O.C. of the Forces of Occupation jammed his way in here, they could make a clean sweep of us. They might—"
He hesitated.
"—they might drop us down that grating in the floor, toss us into the Bosphorus the way Abdul the Damned used to dispose of his enemies. There are lots of things they could do with us. They will think that even if they have to scrag us they will still have the Kings and Watty to work on."
"Don't be too comforting," I observed with feeble sarcasm.
Nikka roused himself.
"There is no sense in abandoning hope," he remarked. "Is this any worse than that pill-box at Le Ferriere?"
"Good old Nikka," said Hugh affectionately. "I say, if I had to make an ass of myself I'd rather do it with two such prime—"
"Asses?" I suggested.
"—Not even to you would I say that, Jack," he retorted. "By the way, lads, we're not running true to form. In every tale I ever read in which brave, resourceful men were made prisoners, they gnawed each other's ropes and so gained their freedom."
Nikka chuckled at this.
"If I tried to reach either of you I'd roll over on my face," he said. "I've already tested the knots around my wrists. It would take a strong man half an hour to untie them, and a very sharp knife to hack through them. The only way we shall be freed is by help from outside."
"That means not at all," replied Hugh. "Let's try for a nap. It must be some hours to daylight yet—not that that matters any in this dark hole."
We slept fitfully, frightfully harassed by the curtailment of circulation due to the straitness of our bonds and the discomfort of our positions which we might not change. Hugh fell over in his sleep, and awakened Nikka and me with his groans as he endeavored to roll off his face. By persistent efforts he finally succeeded in getting on his back; but he was obliged to stay there, and advised us to retain our sitting positions if we could.
Of course, we had no means of estimating the passage of time, but we figured it was well into the forenoon when we abandoned further efforts for sleep. Nobody came to us, and we began to be aware of the pangs of hunger and thirst. At first we paid little attention to this hardship, but as the hours dragged along we realized that our desertion could mean only one thing: that our enemies were determined to assail our courage with every weapon they had. And to tell the truth, courage became something to grapple for after your belly turned upside down for emptiness and your tongue commenced to thicken. To add to our misery, the one lantern flickered out with a rancid stench of oil, and several rats discovered us. They feared us, perhaps, as much as we feared them. But their scamperings and sorties were nerve-racking, and we expected every moment to feel their sharp teeth in our wrists and ankles.
For a while we talked and sang and told stories, but our cracked lips and swollen tongues soon felt the strain of vocal effort. What the others did then I don't know, but I fell asleep—to awaken suddenly with a gasp of agony as I lost my balance and fell sideways, striking my head on the stone floor.
"Too bad," came Hugh's voice from the darkness, strangely muffled. "Hit your head, Jack?"
"Yes," I moaned.
"Twenty-four hours must be nearly up," croaked Nikka.
I fought for a while to work over on to my back, but my limbs had become so stiff that I could not. I had to lie on my stomach, with my head resting, now on one cheek, now on the other. In this position, ear to the floor, it seemed to me that I heard a clink of metal, not outside the door of the dungeon, but somewhere underneath. I asked the others if they heard it, but they said no, and I could tell from their pitying tones that they thought I was becoming delirious.
Yet again I heard it, and almost immediately afterward a wholly different sound: footsteps approaching the door. The two noises persisted together until the dungeon door was thrown open with a clatter. I forgot all about the first noise in the sight of Toutou LaFitte, standing by himself in the doorway, his shirt-sleeves rolled up and a grin of horrible anticipation distorting his beautiful face.
It was as though a mask of animal hunger cloaked his features. Their regularity was undisturbed. Each was in its usual place and relation to the rest, but their effect was entirely abnormal. They were warped and twisted by passions that must have rocked the foundations of the man's soul. His green eyes radiated an unholy light. His long arms were crooked and extended, his hands open and prehensile fingers hooked. He walked warily, bent-kneed, slowly. A slight trickle of saliva flowed from the corner of his mouth.
In the doorway he stood motionless for a moment, surveying the three of us. Then he advanced, leaving the door open against the wall, and unhooked the stable-lantern which hung from his belt. He placed this close to the grating, and prowled over to where I lay.
I say "prowled," and I mean just that. He walked like a big forest cat, or, rather, like a gorilla, investigating a likely meal awaiting the kill. When he stood by me, I felt up and down my spine the shiver of apprehension, of sheer horror, that I had known before in his proximity. When he turned me on my back, and his powerful hands, with their smooth fingers and polished nails, explored my muscles, I could have screamed with terror. I twitched at his touch, with an involuntary exclamation of repugnance. He snarled, and his fingers pressed on a nerve of the upper arm, with a force that made me faint.
But almost at once he flung me from him, and walked across to Hugh, who met him unflinchingly.
"I take it, Monsieur Toutou," said Hugh, "that the twenty-four hours are up."
Toutou stood over him, with that peculiarly animal, bent-kneed posture of meditated attack, arms flexed forward.
"Not quite," he answered in the throaty, guttural voice that I always identified with him. "But we are tired of waiting."
He swooped and snatched Hugh into his arms, just as a gorilla might, squeezing ferociously. Hugh's face showed above his shoulder, white and beaded with perspiration. I thought the fiend intended to crush Hugh's ribs, but he ceased as suddenly as he had begun and tossed his victim down on the floor again.
"You shall come last," he growled. "First, you shall see your friends suffer."
Hugh was too weak from the handling he had just experienced and the shock of his fall to see what happened next, but I did. Toutou leaped on Nikka with one tigerish spring, lifting him to his feet and propping him against the wall. Then he prodded Nikka from head to foot, testing out muscles and joints, all the time growling in his throat. He did not hurt him, simply felt of him as though to determine the parts of his body which would be juiciest.
Nikka's face showed revulsion, but no fear.
"Do you eat men, Toutou?" he gibed.
Toutou flashed his knife, and I closed my eyes, thinking to see the torture begin. But when I opened them again, the knife was slashing the ropes that bound Nikka's limbs. For a second I credited the incredible. Were we to be set free? But no. Toutou sheathed the knife, and crouched before Nikka once more, animal-like, menacing.
"I am a bone-breaker," he rasped. "I break men, bone by bone, joint by joint. Have you ever felt your bones breaking, your sinews cracking? Guuhhrr-rrrr-rrr-rr!"
He pounced, and Nikka screamed, screamed in an excess of agony as the beast's fingers sank into his shoulder, torturing the nerves, tearing the sinews and muscles, dragging the bone from its socket.
But there was another cry from the open door. With a whirl of skirts a slight figure darted in, a knife gleamed and plunged home, and Toutou started back from his victim, his own left arm dripping blood. His face was a queer mixture of rage, lust and puzzled alarm. Shaking his head, with the saliva trickling down his chin, he stood, frowning, like an animal more than ever, an animal which had been curbed and chastised. And before him, knife in one hand, pistol in the other, stood Kara, her eyes blazing with passion, breast heaving through the rags of her bodice, her slender body quivering with anger.
"You would dare!" she cried shrilly. "You would dare to touch my man! No man lives who can touch him while I live. He is mine, I say! Mine! I will cut your throat, big French pig. I will carve out your bowels! I will pick out your eyes! I will, I say! I will!"
She danced toward him so energetically that he cowered and gave ground before her.
"Go!" she cried, gesturing with her pistol toward the door. "Quick, before I strike!" And she leaped at him. He clutched his wounded arm, and retreated. "Go, I say!" She raised her arm to stab him again. "Did you think I would let you touch him? Did not the others say that you should only harm one of them? And you took my man! Oh, I will cut you in ribbons!"
And this time he turned, and fled through the door, slamming it behind him. She was swift on his heels, jerked open the door and ran out into the passage after him.
"Run!" I heard her shout. "I am close to you! I, Kara Tokalji! My knife is at your back. Make haste—"
Then the door swung to, and shut out the echoes of Toutou's retreat. My whole thought was of Nikka, his face green in the lantern-light, his empty stomach retching with the nausea from horrible pain. Hugh called to him:
"Nikka, old chap! Pull yourself together. Can you get me unfastened? I'll see what I can do for—"
But I promptly lost interest in Nikka's plight. For my ear, that I could not lift from the floor, registered once more that peculiar clinking underground, this time more pronounced and nearer. I peered idly along the floor, watched a rat flit from hole to hole, and then stiffened with amazement as the grating in the middle of the room lifted two or three inches. It thudded into place again with a shower of dust, but at once the clinking was resumed, and the heavy stonework was pried upward.
"Hugh!" I whispered. "Nikka! My God, look at the grating! Do you see what I see?"
Nikka was still too sick to understand, but Hugh stared at the grating, and his eyes popped from his head as he perceived its unsteady progress upward.
We were both afraid to speak, afraid to guess what it might mean. And while we still watched, uncertainly, wondering whether to hope or to fear, we heard a loud grunt, the grating rose into the air, tottered and fell out of place, leaving the drain only half-covered. The end of a steel crowbar appeared in this opening, there was another grunt, and the grating was levered aside.
"Where's that 'ere dratted box?" muttered a familiar voice. "If the Servants' 'All could see me now!"
Two hands clutched the sides of the drain opening, the grunt was repeated for the third time—and Watkins clambered laboriously into the dungeon.
"If your ludship will pardon me a minute," he puffed. "This work does fair do me up—at my time of life and all, Mister Hugh, sir—and the rats down there are as big as old Tom the mouser in the dairy at Chesby."
We could only stare at him. Even poor Nikka forgot his agony and peered unbelievingly at this extraordinary apparition.
"'As that Tootoo gone, your ludship?" continued Watkins, looking around.
He drew a pistol from his coat pocket.
"Miss Betty told me to be sure not to shoot if I could 'elp it. But I would 'ave taken a crack at 'im, only I couldn't rightly see down below there, and I was afraid 'e'd tumble to me if 'e 'eard me like, so—"
"For God's sake, Watty, where did you come from?" burst from Hugh.
"From the drain, your ludship. I nearly broke my neck in the opening last night account of coming down the rope so sudden with the Professor, and when I told Miss Betty she said it was a gift from 'Eaven and we must come back, which we did, your ludship."
"Do you mean to say," asked Hugh, "that there's a passage down there and Miss Betty is outside?"
"Quite right, your ludship," said Watkins, rising and commencing to dust himself off. "It runs out into the big rocks on the beach. The Professor, 'e says, sir, it's a great discovery, it's a regular, sure-enough old Roman sewer. Miss Betty, she said it was nothing of the kind, it was a gift from 'Eaven."
"Well," I said, thrusting myself into the conversation, "this is no time for a debate. If you are going to get us out, Watty, you have got to move quickly. Toutou and his friends will be back any moment. One girl can't keep them away. I suspect they'd have been here by now, if she hadn't precipitated some kind of a row."
"Very good, sir, Mister Jack," answered Watkins, calmly producing a knife from his belt. "Such a necessity was duly foreseen, if I may say so."
He went to work methodically on my lashings.
"I trust you will take notice, your ludship, that all possible 'aste 'as been made. It was fair mucky below there, as you will see, gentlemen, and I barked my shins something cruel. Yes, sir, Mister Jack, I'm going as fast as I can without sticking you. What a terrible place! And Mister Nikka 'as the stomach ache."
"He has worse than that, Watty," said Hugh grimly. "Are the others all right?"
"Yes, your ludship. Ah? Mister Jack, sir, there you are. One moment, sir, until I 'ave 'is ludship loose, and I'll give you a bit of a rub." He sawed away at Hugh's ropes, while I slapped my cold legs with hands I could scarcely move. "Why, your ludship, when we came outside we talked things over, and first off Professor King 'e says that 'e's going in. But I pointed out to 'im 'ow somebody should stay with the young lady, and as 'e was 'er father and I was valet to your ludship, it was plain that 'e should stick by the launch, whilst I—"
"Never mind any more," Hugh cut him off, as he disposed of the last wrappings. "We can talk things over later. Help us to get our circulation back. Rub, man, rub! That's it."
Presently we were able to walk stiffly. Our first concern was to lower Nikka into the drain. He was so weak that he took very little interest in the rescue. His initial flare of understanding was succeeded by a semi-stupor, and his tortured shoulder must have been agonizing, although he never complained. We had Watkins go down ahead of him, and Hugh and I, between us, eased him gently through the hole, and Watkins caught him around the waist and steadied him. My instinct was to follow them immediately, but Hugh checked me.
"See here," he said, "now that we've got this secret entrance, why do we need to let the enemy know of it?"
"How do you mean?" I asked stupidly.
"Can't we cover up our tracks?" he pursued. "Here, Watty," he called into the drain, "hand up that crowbar."
Watkins extended it, a look of alarm on his face.
"I do 'ope, your ludship, you won't run into another mess," he remonstrated. "Best come along right away, sir, before Tootoo and 'is friends twig what we've done. Really, your ludship—and I'll need some one to 'elp me with Mister Nikka."
"You get started," returned Hugh. "We'll be all right, but we have a job to do first. Get on. We'll catch up with you."
Watkins retired, grumbling.
"If you'll permit me," I said uneasily, "I'm inclined to think you are mad. Personally, I don't hanker for Toutou's attentions. We may lose this opportunity if—"
"We won't lose this opportunity," answered Hugh, "and I hope we won't lose the more valuable opportunity I'm looking for in the future. Help me break down the door."
Then I appreciated his plan. We worked the crowbar under the sill and between the jamb and the lintel, and with very little difficulty forced the door from its hinges. It was old, and although heavy, had warped and was poorly hung. As it came free, we caught it, and let it down gently on the floor. I crept out into the corridor and around a turn where a flight of stairs began. Nobody was in sight, but I heard a distant murmur of conversation. To the left of the stairs a passage trended at right angles, with a slight upward grade, and I followed it until I came to a clumsy door of planks. I listened at its crack, but heard nothing, so I applied my crowbar and forced the rickety lock. Beyond this door stretched a vast cellar which underlay the structure of the House of the Married.
I waited only to make sure that it was unoccupied, and then returned to the dungeon. Hugh had pushed the stone grating into position on the edge of the opening, leaving a space barely wide enough for us to slip through. We dropped down, and found that when we stood on the empty packing-box which Watty had fetched—for no special reason, as he afterwards admitted, except that he "thought he might want to reach up like"—with him we could exert the necessary strength, with the help of the crowbar, to pry the grating into its bed.
We crept away after Nikka and Watkins, feeling light-hearted for the first time in twenty-four hours. Ahead of us Watkins' electric torch shone palely on the slimy, moss-grown walls. We splashed in water over our ankles. Big black rats scuttled around us. But we were at liberty, and we licked our puffy lips with our swollen tongues at the thought of the dismay that our enemies would feel when they reëntered the dungeon.
Nikka fainted as we reached the mouth of the drain, which was fortunate for him, as it saved him the agony of the slippery climb over the rocks of the beach and the ruined jetty to the Curlew. At its exit the drain or sewer was blocked by a heap of stones about four feet high across which it was difficult for men unhindered to pass in silence, let alone men carrying an inert body. But we achieved it finally, and stumbled as best we could on to the precarious footing of the jetty, The Curlew was simply a black shadow nestling against the rocks.
As we approached, two figures jumped from the deck, and the slighter of them ran towards us.
"Hugh!" came the whispered call. "Hugh, are you there? Are you safe? Who are you carrying, Jack? Is it—"
I came first, holding Nikka's feet. Hugh and Watkins, supporting his shoulders, were indistinguishable in the rear. It struck me as mildly humorous that Betty's first anxiety should be so ingenuously revealed.
"Hugh's all right," I answered cautiously. "Nikka's hurt, though. Keep quiet, you idiot."
"Thank God!" she said inconsequentially, and sat down on the rocks and commenced to cry softly.
Hugh exploded in a sentimental curse.
"Here, Watty," he growled, "you'll have to manage by yourself."
"Very good, your ludship," muttered Watkins.
I felt Nikka's body sag, and looked back. Watkins was plodding determinedly after me, panting so loudly under his burden as to lead me to cast a wary eye at the lightless bulk of Tokalji's house. Hugh and Betty had melted into a single shadow-figure from which came vague murmurs and gasped interjections.
"Damn!" I grunted. "What a hell of a time to pick for making love!"
"Quite right, Mister Jack, sir," panted Watkins.
We were both about done up, for Nikka was heavy and we had to use superhuman care to avoid jouncing or dropping him on the rocks. But luckily Vernon King reached us, and with his aid, we got Nikka into a bunk in the tiny cabin. Leaving King to take care of him, Watkins and I returned to the cockpit. I was fighting mad at Hugh for philandering and at Betty for picking such an occasion for tears. But my rage was not proof against the bubbling joy with which they greeted me as they hopped aboard.
"Meet the new Lady Chesby," whispered Hugh.
"Did you ever hear of such a thing?" said Betty. "Why, I had no more idea when I climbed out on those rocks—"
"No, I suppose not," I jeered. "Well, children, let me tell you you chose a poor time for this. If you want my congratulations you must help us to make a quick get-away."
"He's right," agreed Betty, tearing herself loose from Hugh's arm. "We are crazy. Jack, you loose the bow line. Watkins, are the sweeps ready? Prepare to cast off astern, Hugh."
Hugh and I were recouped with brandy and water and sandwiches, and fifteen minutes later, with the current to help us, we had worked out into the Marmora; and Betty judged it safe to have Watkins turn over the engine and switch on the lights. I am bound to say her first thought then was of Nikka. She put Watkins at the wheel, with orders to stand west at low speed, and ducked into the cabin with us. The electric bulb shone down on Nikka's white face beaded with sweat. His eyes were still closed. King had cut away his coat and shirt, and was bathing his head with water from the drinking-tank.
"How is he?" asked Betty.
"He has not recovered consciousness yet," answered her father. "To tell the truth, I haven't tried hard to bring him around. I fear his shoulder is dislocated."
Betty stooped over Nikka, and felt gingerly of arm and shoulder.
"Yes," she said, "it's dislocated. I have seen dislocations pulled out in the hospitals during the War. I think I can get his shoulder back if some of you will hold him down. It is bound to hurt him cruelly for the moment."
She spoke with crisp authority; her face was all keen intelligence. And I chuckled at the contrast with the way in which she had come aboard with Hugh.
"We'll help," Hugh told her now. "What do we do?"
She stationed us, Hugh bearing down on his well shoulder, Vernon King and I grasping each a leg. She took a deep breath, caught arm and shoulder in her strong young fingers, tugged, twisted with a wrench—a moan from Nikka, lying half-conscious—and there was an audible snap. Betty stepped back, flushed and trembling.
"There," she said, "it's in place, but I wouldn't do it again to-night for anything."
"Good girl," I said.
"That's praise from Sir Hubert," she acknowledged shyly. "Aren't you ever going to congratulate me, Jack? Oh, Lordy, though, I've completely forgotten to tell Dad."
"But that's quite usual, my dear," said my uncle whimsically.
"Don't be a cynic like Jack, old dear," she rebuked him with a kiss. "You know I really have to tell you when I'm engaged. It happened very suddenly, and Jack blew me up for letting it interfere with business."
"I'm inclined to agree with him," said King. "I suppose the young man concerned is Hugh."
Betty regarded him admiringly.
"Why, Daddy! That's awfully brilliant of you! However did you guess?"
Her father pinched her ear.
"Occasionally, Elizabeth," he said, "you appear to labor under the misconception that I fail to take any note concerning the ordinary routine happenings of the day. But if you prefer, I will base my apprehension solely on analytical grounds. You leap ashore. You call for Hugh. You run towards him. You delay your reappearance. Immediately afterward you announce your engagement. I must maintain the sequence of causes prior to the effect presents an argument grounded on irrefutable logic."
"You win on logical as well as mere human grounds, Vernon," I said. "Bet, I congratulate you, minx though you are. If Nikka—"
And at that moment Nikka opened his eyes, and sat up in the bunk, bumping his head.
"Ouch!" he yelled. "Where am I? What—"
He rubbed his shoulder reminiscently.
"I'm sore all over, but I have a feeling it hurt worse a little while ago. How did I get here? And Hugh and Jack?"
So we recounted to him the full story of our rescue, which, in turn, necessitated chronicling our adventures of the past twenty-four hours for Betty and her father.
"I imagined, of course, that a mishap such as you describe had befallen you," remarked King when we had finished. "When Nikka shouted his warning, Watkins and I held a hasty conference on the roof and decided that your adjuration must have had sufficient urgency behind it to warrant our obedience, however reluctant we might be to abandon you. Upon Watkins' insistence, I preceded him down the rope. Prior to his own descent, he loosened the grapnel, with an eye to the possibility of twitching it down, so that when he was some eight or ten feet from the ground—my estimate, naturally, is hypothetical, as it was impossible to gain any clear view of his accident—the rope came free above, and he was precipitated into an opening in the rocks which we had not hitherto perceived.
"I may say that we later determined in the daylight that it was practically invisible from the adjacent waters, and the hasty investigation I was able to make on my own behalf leads me to the provisional conclusion that we have stumbled upon a genuine archæological find. The ancient Byzantium, as you doubtless know, was a city vying with our modern capitals in comfort and hygienic convenience, and its drainage system must have been—"
"Yes, yes, Daddy," interrupted Betty, "but you are telling about last night, not the ancient Byzants."
"Byzantines, my dear," corrected her father. "The Byzant was the standard coin of value of the Eastern Empire, indeed, of the known world."
"A thousand pardons, old sweetheart, but still, don't you see, you've left the boys high and dry? Here, you'd better let me carry on."
"Very well," answered King with the docility acquired by any man who spends much time in Betty's company. "Perhaps your narrative gifts will secure a more rapid description of our adventures, Elizabeth."
"It's not my 'narrative gifts,' darling Dad. It's that I can stick to the path. You see, boys, I heard Watkins squawk when he fell. The only reason Toutou and his friends didn't hear him was that they were so busy with you. I left the boat and scrambled over the rocks—nearly scared Dad to death. He thought I was an enemy. Watkins had disappeared into this opening. He had slid over the rock-pile that fills it to within three or four feet of the top, and he bumped his head badly. He thought he was in a cave, and I made Dad get in after him and look around with a flashlight. So long as the rope and grapnel had come down, there was no way for Toutou's gang to trace us, and I was wondering whether we couldn't make future use of a hiding-place almost in the enemy's camp."
"I say, that was clever of you!" said Hugh admiringly.
We all chuckled, but Betty thanked him with a smile.
"Oh, I was a little heroine," she continued. "No movie heroine could have surpassed me. Dad took a look, and announced that it was one of the old sewers, and seemed to run inland beneath Tokalji's house. He wanted to follow it all the way in, but I decided there would be no opportunity for a rescue that night, and I made him and Watkins come back to the Curlew with me. We ran the launch to the wharf of a Greek fisherman I know on the Asiatic shore of the Marmora. He agreed to take us up to Constantinople in his boat, and to wait there for us all day to carry us back.
"We discussed the problem going up to Constantinople, and we couldn't think of anything to do for you, short of going in ourselves and setting you free. We didn't know how to get into touch with Nikka's uncle and his Gypsy friends. Manifestly, we didn't want to tell the police or the British authorities—although we would have done that if we had been unable to get to you to-night. Watkins said that 'treasure or no treasure 'e wasn't going to see 'is ludship butchered like 'is uncle, whatever 'is ludship might say any time.' Oh, Watkins was lyrical, Hugh."