The Wheel O' Fortune Part 36

He fired both barrels into their midst, clubbed his rifle and jumped forward. That was good generalship, of the sort dear to the heart of his great ancestor. At the first tremendous sweep of his weapon he broke off its stock against an Arab's body. That did not matter. The heavy barrels were staunch, and iron deals harder blows than wood. He was active as a cat, and had the strength of any four of his adversaries. With lightning-like whirls he smote them so resolutely that when five were laid low the rest broke, and ran. He actually pursued them, and brought down two more, before he stumbled over the body of one whom he had shot.

And that ended the fight. He heard men scrambling over the rocks in panic, and he knew by the grunting and groaning of distant camels that all the _kafila_ had stampeded. Searching the fallen man at his feet, he found a full cartridge-belt and rifle. He took them, lest there should be further need, but did not relinquish the trusty weapon which had more than equalized an unequal combat.

Then he went to his camel. The terrified brute had risen, and was tugging madly at its rope. It seemed to recognize him, and be grateful for his presence, if ever a camel can display grat.i.tude. He gave it the contents of the water-bag, led it to the top of the cliff, and stood there a brief s.p.a.ce to listen. Some wounded men were calling loudly for help, and he was sorry for the poor wretches; but there was no response from their flying comrades. He fixed on a star to guide his course by, mounted, and rode away to the south, trusting more to his camel's sense of direction than to his own efforts to keep on the track.

When dawn appeared, a dawn that was glorious to him beyond measure, he caught sight of a precipitous hill which he remembered pa.s.sing on the outward march. Looking back at the first favorable point, he could see nothing that betokened the presence of Hadendowas, or any other human beings, in all that far-flung solitude. Were it not for the presence of the Italian rifle and cartridge-belt, and the blood-stained gun-barrels resting across his knees, the fierce struggle in that forbidding valley might have been the delirium of a fever-dream.

He rode on, munching contentedly at a biscuit from his haversack, until his glance was drawn to a cloud of dust hanging in the air, for the unpleasant wind of the previous night had given way to a softer and cooler breeze. He read its token correctly, and smiled at the picture which his fancy drew of Stump, when that choleric skipper heard what had happened to his second mate. Surely he would be among those now hurrying to the rescue!

And he was not mistaken. With Stump came Abdur Kad'r, six of the _Aphrodite's_ crew, and a score of well-armed Arabs and negroes. Even before they met, Royson saw two Arabs race back towards the camp, and Stump, after the first hearty congratulations, explained the hurry of those messengers.

"It's mainly on account of Miss Irene," he said. "She took on something awful when the sheikh blew in an' tole us you had gone under. He heard the shootin', you see, an', accordin' to his account, you were as full of lead as Tagg'll be full of beer when he listens to the yarn I'll spin nex' time we meet."

Abdur Kad'r's black eyes sparkled when Royson spoke to him.

"_Salaam aleik.u.m, Effendi!" he cried. "You have redeemed my honor.

Never again could I have held up my head had you been slain while I ran. And that shaitan of a camel--he stirred himself. By the Prophet, I must kill an older one to make a feast for my men."

CHAPTER XVII

HOW THREE ROADS LED IN ONE DIRECTION

The news that her lover was safe restored the sparkle to Irene's eyes and the color to her wan cheeks. Fenshawe, indeed, had not given her the full measure of Abdur Kad'r's breathless recital. Recent events had led the old curio-hunter to view life in less ultra-scientific spirit than was his habit. Perhaps he had re-awakened to the knowledge that the hearts of men and women are apt to be swayed by other impulses than his dry-as-dust interest in dead cities and half-forgotten races. Most certainly he was shocked by the agony in the girl's face when she heard that the sheikh had returned alone, and, if he wondered at the low wail of despair which broke from her lips, he said nothing of it at the moment, but mercifully suppressed Abdur Kad'r's story of the Effendi's resolve to make a stand against his pursuers, and thus enable his companion to reach and warn the camp.

The version Irene heard was that Royson's camel had fallen lame, and it was deemed safer he should hide until help came, than mount behind Abdur Kad'r and risk the slower journey. Fenshawe reasoned that Royson might be captured, not killed. His long experience of Arab life told him that the tribesmen would be chary of murdering a European, for fear of the vengeance to be exacted later. Nevertheless, this comforting theory was more than balanced by the disquieting facts revealed by the sheikh, who, as he rode wildly to the south, heard a sharp outburst of firing in the valley behind him.

Yet it was well that Irene had not been told the whole truth, else that anxious little heart of hers might have stormed itself into a fever of despair. As it was, her pent emotions found relief in tears of joy when the messengers brought the news of Royson's approach with the rescue party, and her eyelids were still suspiciously red, her lips somewhat tremulous, when, standing by her grandfather's side, she welcomed his return.

Though a hundred eyes were fixed on the two--though some of those eyes watched them with a keenness inspired by the belief that this reunion had in it a romantic element quite apart from the drama of the hour-- their meeting apparently partook only of that friendly character warranted by the unusual circ.u.mstances. And, in the general excitement, none who looked at Royson paid heed to the hardships he had undergone.

He had hardly closed his eyes during two nights and three days, for the rest obtained while he and Abdur Kad'r awaited the outcome of Hussain's emba.s.sy was calculated rather to add to his physical exhaustion than relieve it. He had covered eighty miles of desert on scanty fare, and had fought a short but terrific fight against a dozen adversaries. Yet, his cool demeanor and unwearied carriage conveyer! no hint of fatigue-- to all outward seeming he might have been entering the encampment after an ordinary march, when a basin of water and a change of clothing were the chief essentials of existence. It was not so, of course. Were he made of steel he must have felt the strain of those sixty hours, and he almost yielded to it when he dismounted, and Fenshawe led him inside the mess tent.

The older man invited him to be seated, and tell his adventures while eating the meal which had been prepared for him and Stump as soon as their camels were seen in the distance. But d.i.c.k, half unconsciously, still clutched the broken rifle. There were blood stains on his clothing, which was ripped in the most obvious way by bullets that had either wounded him or actually grazed his skin. Fenshawe's keen old eyes made a rapid inventory of these signs of strife, and he forgot, in his anxiety, that Irene was present.

"Good heavens, man," he cried, "you have been in the wars. Did those scoundrels attack you, then? Are you hurt?"

"No," said d.i.c.k, sinking into a chair, and trying to speak with his customary nonchalance, "I am not injured--just a wee bit tired--that is all."

Irene flew to his side. She took the soiled gun-barrels, from his relaxing grip, and began to unfasten the collar hooks of his uniform.

"Don't you see he is almost fainting?" she demanded, reproachfully.

"Bring some brandy and cold water, quick! Oh, d.i.c.k, dear, speak to me!

Are you sure you are not wounded? If it is only want of food and sleep, we can soon put that right, but do tell me if you have a wound."

d.i.c.k smiled, though he knew his face was white beneath the dust and tan, and he could not lift his arms for the life of him.

"I'm all right," he whispered. "I suppose I'm suffering from heart trouble, Irene. Haven't seen you for two nights and a day, you know."

He must have been a trifle light-headed, or he would not have spoken to her in that way before her grandfather. Mr. Fenshawe, remembering the girl's shyness of the previous day, may have thought a good deal, but said nothing, seeing that Irene was supremely indifferent to either his thoughts or his words at that instant, while Royson seemed to be heedless of any other fact than the exceedingly pleasant one that his beloved was holding a gla.s.s to his lips and asking him to gratify her by swallowing the contents.

As for Stump, who was not aware of his second mate's rise in the world, the manner of their speech affected him so powerfully that he was in imminent danger of an apoplectic seizure. His condition was rendered all the more dangerous because he dared utter no word. But he silently used the sailor-like formula which applies to such unexpected situations, and added certain other variations of the rubric from the extensive resources of his own private vocabulary. He recovered his breath by the time d.i.c.k's attack, of weakness had pa.s.sed, and the color of his face slowly subsided from, a deep purple to its abiding tint of brick red.

"Rather a sudden indisposition," said Fenshawe to Stump, smiling quizzically as he watched Irene supporting Royson's head while she urged him tenderly to drink a little more of the stimulant.

"Is that wot you call it?" asked the captain of the _Aphrodite_, mopping his glowing cheeks with a handkerchief of brilliant hue. "I thought it was a stroke of some kind, 'but I've fair lost my bearin's since I gev' over plashin' at sea."

The amazement of the elders at the manner in which those young people addressed each other was slight in comparison with the thrill Royson caused when he had taken some soup, and was prepared to do justice to more solid food.

"I had a rather lively set-to with a number of Hadendowas," he explained in response to a question from Mr. Fenshawe. "It was brief but strenuous, and I a.s.sure you it is a marvel that I came out of it practically without a scratch. At any rate, it does not call for a detailed description now, seeing that I have something of vastly greater importance to tell you. May I ask, sir, if you have photographs of the papyrus in your possession?"

"Yes. They are in my tent. Shall I bring them?" "If you please. I think I have news that will interest you."

"One word before I go. Abdur Kad'r said that the Italians had abandoned Suleiman's Well. Have they found the treasure, do you think?"

"No, sir. Just the reverse. I believe that I have found it myself, and, if I am not mistaken, Mrs. Haxton and the Baron, from what Captain Stump tells me, are now far on their way to the right place, if they have not already reached it."

"Wot did I say, Miss Irene?" broke in Stump fiercely. "Oh, he's deep is that there Baron. I sized him up when he med off yesterday. An' Mrs.

Haxton, too! A nice pair of beauties."

"Whatever wrong Mrs. Haxton may have done in the past, I refuse to believe that she was swayed by some merely selfish consideration in leaving us as she did," said Irene softly, and her grandfather thanked her with a look as he quitted the tent.

Stump shook his head.

"She's as artful as a pet fox," he growled; but he had no listeners.

d.i.c.k and Irene were far too much occupied in gazing at each other.

Mr. Fenshawe returned speedily. He spread out ten photographs on the table in front of Royson. With them was a typewritten doc.u.ment divided into ten sections.

"That is the English translation," he explained. "Each numbered division corresponds with a similar number on a photograph. It simplifies reference."

d.i.c.k examined the translation eagerly. The first slip of papyrus read:

"In the seventh year of the reign of the renowned Emperor, C. Julius Caesar Octavia.n.u.s, I, Demetriades, son of Pelopidos, merchant of Syracuse, being at that time a trader in ivory and skins at Alexandria, did foolishly abandon my wares in that city, and join the legion sent from Egypt to subdue the people of Shaba."

He saw that the letters in the word "seventh," though writ in archaic Greek, bore the same s.p.a.ce relation to the neighboring characters as did all others in the script. Reading on carefully until he came to the first leaf of the papyri in which the "Five Hills" were named, he observed Instantly that the word "pente," five, had its letters crowded together. Now the Greek for seven, _hepta_, has only four characters, the aspirate being marked over the initial vowel. This same crowding of "pente" was discernible each time it occurred in the text. It was a coincidence that was too intrusive. The obvious explanation was that "hepta" had been deleted and "pente" subst.i.tuted in every instance, and the fraud had not been detected because the rest of the Greek writing was absolutely genuine. The hieroglyphs In cartouches, which von Kerber had admittedly tampered with, were beyond Royson's ken.

He was so taken up with this confirmation of his views, and so eager to make clear the queer chance that led Abdur Kad'r to explain the name of the Well of Moses, that he was blind to the growing wrath in Mr.

Fenshawe's face until he happened to catch the indignant note in the older man's voice as he bade a servant summon the sheikh. Then a single glance told him what he had done. The wounded vanity of the famous Egyptologist had risen in its might, and swept aside all other considerations. The man of wealth could permit his charitable instincts to govern the scorn evoked by the Austrian's petty tactics, but the outraged enthusiasm of the collector was a torrent that engulfed charity and expediency alike in its flood. Nothing short of the most painstaking personal examination of the oasis at the Well of Moses would now convince the millionaire that von Kerber had not tricked him at the eleventh hour.

Though the expedition was in Italian territory, though he was aware that a tribe of hostile Arabs was already hovering on the outskirts of the camp, though the presence of Irene rendered it imperative that he should not risk the attack which would probably be made that night, these urgent conditions of the moment did not prevail in the least degree against the maddening suspicion that the self-confessed forger who had duped him had put the seal on a piece of clever rascality by exploiting the real treasure-ground for his own benefit.

Royson was far from expecting this development. Yet, now that it had occurred, he saw that it was inevitable. Before Abdur Kad'r appeared he guessed why Mr. Fenshawe wanted him in such a hurry. Irene, who had never known her grandfather to be so greatly disturbed, whispered earnestly to her lover:

"If grandad wishes you to follow von Kerber, you must be too ill to do anything of the sort."

"Then I shall remain here alone," said he, smiling at her dismay.