The Wheel O' Fortune Part 37

"Unless I am much mistaken we shall all be hot on his track before we are many hours older."

He was right. When the sheikh came he received orders to prepare for an instant march towards the coast by way of the caravan route. Then the burning zeal of archeology received a check.

"It is impossible that the _kafila_ should move in that direction before to-morrow's dawn, O worthy of honor," said Abdur Kad'r emphatically. "We can march south to-day, if Allah wills it, knowing that we shall find food and water within fifteen kilometers without fail. To reach the Well of Moses is a different thing. I have not seen the place during thirty years. We must travel early and late, and carry with us a water supply that will not only suffice for the journey but safeguard us against any failure of the well when we arrive there. What proof have we, Effendi, that it is not choked with sand?"

Fenshawe was too skilled in the varying contingencies of desert life not to admit the truth of the sheikh's reasoning, but he held to the belief that von Kerber had secret information as to the practicability of the route.

"Be it so," he said curtly. "Let every preparation be made. We have no cause to fear these dogs of Hadendowas. I charge myself with the care of the camp where they are concerned. See to it, Abdur Kad'r, that we start ere sunrise."

The conversation was in Arabic, so Stump could not gather its drift.

When he learnt his employer's intentions he roared gleefully:

"By gad, sir, I'm pleased to 'ear you're makin' for blue water once more. Just for a minute I fancied you was tellin' our brown pilot to shove after von Kerber, an' string 'im up."

Mr. Fenshawe laughed grimly.

"The rogue deserves it, but I cannot take the law into my own hands, captain," he said.

"Oh, that wasn't botherin' me," was the offhand answer. "I was on'y wonderin' where you would find a suitable tree."

Fenshawe bent over the table, and asked Royson to go through the papyri with him, comparing the Greek, word for word, with the translation. He himself was able to decipher the hieroglyphs, but the details and measurements they gave might be dismissed as unreliable. Depending, however, on the context, and having ascertained from Abdur Kad'r that the seven small lava hills at Moses's Well stood in an irregular circle near the oasis, it was a reasonable deduction that the Romans had selected a low-lying patch of sand or gravel somewhere in the center of the group as a suitable hiding-place for their loot. It might be a.s.sumed that Aelius Gallus meant to sail down the Red Sea again, within a year at the utmost, and recover the spoil when his galleys were there to receive it. Therefore, he would not dig too deeply, nor, in the straits to which he was reduced, would he waste many hours on the task.

Fenshawe infected d.i.c.k with his own ardor. The two were puzzling over each turn and twist of the Greek adventurer's awkward phrases when Irene, who had gone out with Stump, interrupted them.

"d.i.c.k," she said, blushing poppy red because she used his familiar name, "you must go and rest at once. I am sure, grandad, you don't want Mr. Royson to break down a second time, do you? And I would like both of you to know that Baron von Kerber took with him no pickaxes. Captain Stump and I have just checked our stock. That seems to be in his favor, I think?"

"If I have done von Kerber an injustice I shall be the first to ask his pardon," said Fenshawe. "At present, I have every cause to doubt the man's motives in leaving us, and I want more than negative proof to acquit him of dishonesty. By the way, Irene, have you told Royson of his good fortune?"

"I have hardly spoken two words to him since he arrived," said she innocently.

"Dear me! That sounds like a strong hint," and Fenshawe very considerately left the two alone. Tired as d.i.c.k was, the best part of an hour elapsed before Irene could explain fully that he was now a baronet, with a reasonably large income, or he could make her understand exactly why he was a somewhat frayed out-of-work when they met in London.

Perhaps there were interludes and interruptions. Perhaps he thought that the limpid depths of her brown eyes offered more attractions than the sordid records of a foolish man's spite and a boy's sufferings. At any rate, it was Irene who finally insisted that this must positively be the last, and who threatened that she would not speak to him again that day if he stirred out of his tent before dinner.

And, indeed, d.i.c.k required no rocking when, after a refreshing wash, he stretched his long limbs in his hammock. His sleep was dreamless. He awoke at sundown strong in the conviction that he had hardly closed his eyes.

He and Stump shared the tent, and d.i.c.k's uncertain gaze first dwelt on his skipper, who was seated at the door, smoking. Stump removed his pipe from between his teeth:

"Good evenin', Sir Richard," he said solemnly. Then the huge joke he had been cogitating ever since Irene informed him at luncheon that Royson was now a man of t.i.tle mastered him completely.

"Sink me," he burst forth, "I've had some daisies of second mates under me in me time, but I've never bossed a bloomin' barrow-knight afore. My G.o.dfather! Won't Becky be pleased! An' wot'll Tagg say? Pore old Tagg!

He'll 'ave a fit!"

"Look here, captain--" began d.i.c.k, swinging his feet to the ground. But Stump's slow-moving wits, given full time to get under weigh, were working freely; punctuating each pause with a flourish of his pipe, he continued:

"Lord love a duck, I can see Tagg blowin' in to a snug in the West Injia Dock Road, an' startin' ev'ry yarn with, 'W'en I sailed down the Red Sea with Sir Richard--' or, 'We was goin' through the Gut on a dirty night, an' Sir Richard sez to me--' Well, there, I on'y hope 'e survives the fust shock. W'en 'e gets 'is wind we'll 'ave a fair treat.

Mind ye, I 'ad a sort of funny feelin' when you tole me in the train you was my second mate, an' you sat there a-wearin' knickers. It gev me a turn, that did. An' then, you took another twist at me by sayin'

you'd never bin to sea. I knew things was goin' to happen after that.

It must ha' bin, wot d'ye call it--second sight--for I knew then an'

there I'd got a prize in the lottery--"

"Oh, shut up!" shouted Royson, diving frantically for his boots.

"That's no way for a barrow-knight to talk to 'is admirin' skipper,"

said Stump. "But I s'pose, now, it sounds queer to 'ave me a-callin'

you Sir Richard, w'en, as like as not, I might be dammin' your eyes as second mate?"

Royson tried to escape, in his hurry he did not notice a bulky letter which lay on the top of one of his leather trunks. Stump called him back.

"You're missin' your mail, Sir Richard," he said, and d.i.c.k, perforce, returned. Oddly enough, the letter covered the initials "R. K." painted on the portmanteau. Turning a deaf ear to Stump's further pleasantries, he opened the envelope. A scrawl on a sheet of thin continental note- paper contained the brief statement that, "by inadvertence," von Kerber had "detained the enclosed letters and cablegrams." The enclosures, which were from Mr. Forbes, bore out the accuracy of Mrs. Haxton's revelations. He was, in very truth, the twenty-seventh baronet of his line, sole owner of Orme Castle and its dependencies, and befitted, by rank, descent, and estate, to take a social position of no mean order.

For an instant he forgot his surroundings. He recalled the stately old house and its beautiful park as he had last seen it, with all its glories rejuvenated by the money that was pouring in to the coffers of his detested relative. And now that malign old man was at rest, after a tardy admission of the grievous evil he had wrought to his brother's wife and son. Well, peace be to his crooked bones! d.i.c.k could have wished him safely in Paradise if the wish would restore to life his beloved mother. And she, dear soul--though he had forgotten her last night--perhaps her gentle spirit was shielding him as he stood with his back to the rock and faced the vicious swarm of Arabs in the darkness.

Then Stump's gruff accents broke in on his dreaming.

"Is it O.K., Sir Richard?" he asked. "Them's the papers von Kerber held up, I reckon? Have ye got a clean bill?"

Royson stooped and grasped Stump's shoulder.

"When we reach England, skipper," he said, "you and Tagg, and Mrs.

Stump, too, for that matter, must come and see my place in the North.

An' I'll tell ye wot," he went on, with fair mimicry of Stump's voice and manner, "you'll all 'ave the time of your lives, sink me, if you don't!"

Stump glared up at him. No man had ever before dared to reproduce that hoa.r.s.e growl for his edification, and the effect was electrical. It might be likened to the influence exercised on a bull by the bellow of a rival. He took breath for a mighty effort--and Royson fled.

Be sure that Irene, though vastly occupied with work which von Kerber had performed hitherto--those small but troublesome items appertaining to the daily life of a large encampment--had an eye to watch for d.i.c.k's reappearance. She hailed him joyfully:

"Such news! The enemy proclaims a truce. Alfieri has sent in Hussain and Abdullah, not to mention the purloined camel. And one of his own men has brought a note for grandfather, asking an early conference."

At first, Royson was unfeignedly glad of this unlooked for turn in events. He did not share Mr. Fenshawe's optimism in the matter of a night attack by the Hadendowas, because Irene was there--and who could hope to shield her beyond risk of accident when long-range rifles were sniping the camp?

Alfieri's letter was civil and apologetic. He explained that he had no quarrel with the English leader of the expedition--his feud lay with the Austrian and the woman who had helped to despoil him (Alfieri) of his rights. He felt a.s.sured, he said, that Signor Fenshawe--whose fame as an Egyptologist was well known to him--would not be a consenting party to fraud, and he wished, therefore, to arrange a meeting for the following day, when he would state his case fully, face those who had robbed him, and leave the final decision with confidence in the hands of one whose repute made it certain that justice would be done.

The appeal was written in hardly intelligible English, but an Italian version accompanied it, and Irene was able to translate every word of the latter.

"Of course, grandad agreed," said Irene. "He has fixed on seven o'clock to-morrow for the conference. I am looking forward with curiosity to seeing Alfieri again. I remember him perfectly. Captain Stump and I had a good look at him in Ma.s.sowah, you know."

"Has the messenger gone back already?"

"Oh, yes. He left the camp two hours ago."

"Did he speak to any of our men?"

"He may have done so. I'm not sure. We were so taken up with Alfieri's communication that we gave no heed to the Arab. But grandad said, by the way, that it was just as well he should see our strength, and that we had a dozen armed sailors here, in addition to so many natives. You are worrying about me, I suppose? Allow me to observe that I, as staff officer, have a.s.sisted the commander-in-chief to divide our forces into two strong guards for the night. Grandfather commands one, Captain Stump the other, while you, O King, have to sleep soundly until the dawn."

"But I have just slept eight hours!"

"Oh, well, being on the staff, I also arranged that we should mount guard together until eleven o'clock."