The Wheel O' Fortune Part 14

Excitement, or the prospect of success, had certainly given the lady's complexion a fine tint. Her dainty profile offered a striking contrast to the motley crew of negroid Arabs who surrounded her. And she came to meet them in a buoyant spirit, though the fierce sun was scorching her delicate skin through the thin fabric of her dress.

"I ought to have made a wager with you, Mr. Royson," she cried, p.r.o.nouncing his name very distinctly. "Our English-built craft cannot hold its own against the Somali, you see."

Knowing nothing of the difference of opinion on board the yacht, d.i.c.k could not fathom this sudden graciousness on her part. Before he could answer, von Kerber's highly-pitched voice broke in.

"Why did Captain Stump come ash.o.r.e with you?" he asked.

"To send Mrs. Stump a cablegram, I believe," replied Mrs. Haxton carelessly.

"He ought to have asked my permission first."

The petulant words drew a protest from Mr. Fenshawe.

"My dear Baron," he said, "why should not the poor man make known his safe arrival to his wife? You are not yourself to-day. What is it-- liver? or anxiety?"

"I have no special reason for anxiety," cried von Kerber, almost hysterically. Royson came to his relief by asking for orders about the boat, but the Austrian was so unnerved, for no visible reason, that he hesitated, and Irene answered for him.

"We have arranged to dine on sh.o.r.e, at the Hotel Grande del Universo,"

she said. "Mr. Fenshawe wishes Captain Stump and you to join us, so the boat may go back to the yacht and come for us at eight o'clock. When you meet Captain Stump, please tell him."

"Excellent!" agreed her grandfather, who now heard of the "arrangement"

for the first time. "Really, Irene, you put things so admirably that I hardly recognize my own crude thoughts. Well, as that is settled, let us go straight to the Governor's house. One of these black gentlemen will pilot us."

While Fenshawe was airing his Arabic in selecting a guide from fifty volunteers, d.i.c.k gave instructions to the boat's crew. Mrs. Haxton, seeing that Irene was all eyes for her new and strange surroundings, read von Kerber a much-needed lecture.

"For goodness' sake gather your wits," she murmured. "You will arouse general suspicion by your foolish precautions. Now listen. Before five o'clock let us all gather at the hotel for tea. Slip away on some pretext, and go instantly to the Elephant Mosque. It is in the main street, three hundred yards to the left of the hotel. I shall join you there if possible, but, in any event, you'll meet Abdullah. And, whatever you do, stop this nonsense about proceeding in secret. Ah, yes, Irene, your grandfather has his hands full. But he knows how to manage natives. You will see him in his element when we come to collect a _kafila_."

So, smiling and soft-tongued, Mrs. Haxton turned in response to some delighted exclamation from the girl. They made their way inland in the wake of a swaggering negro, and, as Royson pa.s.sed with the others, Abdullah, the Arab, appraised him with critical eye.

"By the Holy Kaaba," said he, "there goes a man! I have seen few like him, even at Khartoum, where the giaours swarmed in thousands. But he is young, and his flesh is soft. The desert will thin his blood. And that little bull, who went before--he, too, should feel the sap dry in his bones. Tomb of my father! if the Hakim Effendi has brought such men as these in his train, there will be deeds done at the foot of the Five Hills, and I, Abdullah the Spear-thrower, shall be there to witness them."

CHAPTER VII

MRS. HAXTON RECEIVES A SHOCK

Mr. Fenshawe, renewing his acquaintance with Arabic gutturals, and von Kerber, walking apart with Mrs. Haxton, in order to learn how and when she had received tidings of Abdullah, had eyes or ears for naught else.

Irene and d.i.c.k were thus given a few moments free from listeners, and the girl was quick enough to grasp the chance.

"You know why we have come here?" she asked in a low tone, halting to look back at the belt of tiny islets which secludes Ma.s.sowah's larger island from the open sea.

"Baron von Kerber told us at Ma.r.s.eilles," said d.i.c.k, wondering what new development had chased from the girl's face the smiling interest of a moment ago.

"'Us'?" she demanded, almost sharply.

"I should have said Captain Stump, Mr. Tagg, and myself."

"What did he tell you?"

"The remarkable history of a Roman expedition against the Sabaeans, of a storm, a shipwreck, the burial of a vast treasure, and the ultimate discovery of its hiding-place by means of a Greek papyrus found in a tomb."

"That is what irritates me," said she, in a sudden gust of anger. "His behavior is faultless, yet I am certain that he is acting in an underhanded way. I have ventured to say as much to my grandfather, but I cannot obtain a shred of actual fact to justify my suspicions. Indeed Baron von Kerber is candor itself where the genuineness of the papyrus is concerned. Did he endeavor to explain Mrs. Haxton's presence, or mine?"

"When Captain Stump protested--before he had seen you, remember-- against ladies accompanying us, the Baron said that without you the expedition could not proceed."

"Exactly. That is another bit of unconvincing accuracy. Mrs. Haxton has always been an essential part of the scheme. I am here solely because I did not think Mr. Fenshawe should be allowed to go alone--alone in the sense that these people were strangers to him, while he was spending many thousands of pounds for their very great benefit. There, again, I find myself in a sort of verbal _cul de sac_. Under other circ.u.mstances I should be delighted to take part in an adventure of this kind.

Grandad promised me two years ago that we should pa.s.s the present winter in Upper Egypt. Unhappily, Mrs. Haxton introduced von Kerber to him at a place in the Highlands where we were invited for the shooting.

The instant he heard of the legend on that wretched sc.r.a.p of paper all his old enthusiasm for exploration work revived, and he has followed their plans blindly ever since."

"I hope you will forgive me if I express a somewhat contrary opinion, Miss Fenshawe," said Royson. "Your grandfather did not hesitate to run counter to the Baron's wishes to-day, for instance."

"Oh, that is nothing. Of course, with his experience of Egypt, he takes the lead in such matters. What I want you to believe is this: Mrs.

Haxton, and not von Kerber, found that papyrus, or it came into her hands by some means. She is the originator of the scheme. She sought to be included in our friend's party at Glengarloch with the set object of meeting grandad, whose interest in archeology is known to all the world. She did not come across von Kerber by accident, but produced him at the right moment. He is not a casual friend, met in Cairo, as she pretends, but a man whom she has known for years. And, last in a list of guessings which I know to be true, they both fear some discovery, or interruption, or danger not revealed to us, which may prevent them from obtaining the wealth they hope to gain. They are desperately poor, Mr.

Royson. They have mortgaged their credit to its utmost extent to enable them to keep up appearances, and they dread some catastrophe which will interfere with our search, though the only authority we have for the existence of the Roman legion's loot is a sc.r.a.p of scarcely decipherable writing, which, though genuine enough, may be nothing better than a madman's dream."

"Have you told Mr. Fenshawe these things?" asked d.i.c.k. His pledged word to von Kerber interposed an awkward barrier against that complete confidence which he would gladly have given to one who had so curiously amplified his own doubts.

"Yes, everything, but he only laughs, and bids me remember that I am not yet twenty. He says that there are stranger things buried beneath the dust of Egypt than all the learned societies have succeeded in revealing. He is quite content that the cruise of the _Aphrodite_ should be a wild-goose chase so long as the evidence of the papyrus is proved to be false. And that is my chief stumbling-block. Perhaps you do not realize that, to an antiquarian, the search yields as keen pleasure as the find. The cost of this expedition is a matter of no consequence to my grandfather, and I repeat that, under other conditions, I should regard it as a most enjoyable and memorable excursion. But these two people have made me nervous, and that is why I was determined they should not get rid of you at Suez, because I felt that I could trust you with my doubts and fears, and look to you for help should an emergency arise. Otherwise, Mr. Fenshawe and I would be at their mercy."

"You can count on me to the end," said Royson earnestly, "but I would ask you not to forget that the officers and crew are all Englishmen, and, from what I have seen of them, they would never lend themselves to any undertaking which meant actual treachery to their employers."

"That, of course, is excellent so far as it goes," was the tart response, "but I am also aware that our enterprising Baron has very adroitly bound all of you to secrecy, and exacted a promise of faithfulness to his interests. The result is that not even you, Mr.

Royson, told me anything about the attack made on him at Ma.r.s.eilles--"

This counter-stroke was unexpected, and Royson glanced at her with some degree of embarra.s.sment.

"He persuaded us that if the incident came to your knowledge it might alarm you needlessly," he broke in, "and that sounded quite reasonable."

"Exactly. You are beginning to appreciate the pitfalls which awaited me when I tried to convince my grandfather that he should not credit every statement made to him. Baron von Kerber is the most plausible of men.

He never tells a downright untruth. Indeed, he speaks the absolute truth, but only a part of it. Fortunately, my maid heard of your prowess in routing the Baron's a.s.sailants. You at once became a hero among the sailors, which, by the way, was only fit and proper if you are destined to fill the role played by your distinguished ancestor."

A quiet little smile chased the shadows from her face, and d.i.c.k flushed as he recalled the wild words of that wonderful night in the ca.n.a.l.

"Tagg must have been talking," he managed to say. "Please tell me what you have heard, Miss Fenshawe."

"Nothing beyond the fact that our Austrian friend was set upon by some highway robbers while driving from the station to the ship at a late hour, and that you and Mr. Tagg happened to be near, with disastrous results to the Ma.r.s.eillais. Does your bond permit you to carry the story further? What did really happen?"

"There was a rather one-sided fight, because Tagg and I took them by surprise, but the Baron escaped uninjured, or nearly so."

"Did they rob him, then?"

"I meant that he sustained a couple of slight cuts, and therein you have another valid reason for his anxiety that the affair should not reach your ears."

Though her own manner was imperious enough, Irene was manifestly surprised at the annoyance apparent in d.i.c.k's voice. She did not realize that he was wroth because of the check imposed by the promise exacted in London. If he told her of the theft of the papyrus, and explained the few details he possessed with regard to von Kerber's declared enemy, he would only add fuel to the distrust already planted in her heart. That would achieve no tangible good, while no casuistry would wipe away the stain on his own honor. So here was he, burning with desire to a.s.sure her of his devotion, forced into silent pact with the very conspiracy she was denouncing.

She attributed his sudden gruffness to a distaste for hearing his exploits lauded.