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Daoud's bull voice stormed the cliff echoes.
"Absalaam--Absalaam ibn Said! Son of foolishness! It is I, Daoud, with Sid' Aylmer and thine employer!"
The rifle muzzles were lowered; the hors.e.m.e.n drew aside, and the two white-clad figures led again. A minute later Aylmer reined in his horse, and raised his helmet at Miss Van Arlen's side. Daoud, with a self-satisfied smile, was understood to explain that owing to his unparalleled management the expedition had resulted in an unprecedented success.
The girl's eyes were raised questioningly, first to her father's face, and then doubtfully, almost, indeed, unwillingly, to Aylmer's. She bowed to him coolly, not ungraciously, but with no effect of welcome. He sat silent, watching as she listened to the explanation which the elder man gave in a rapid undertone.
She made no comment till he finished, but at the first mention of Landon's name she unconsciously, as it seemed, edged her horse in a direction which took her away from Aylmer and closer to her small nephew, who sat on his gray donkey, staring at the newcomers with the frank astonishment of childhood. Aylmer noticed the movement. Was it instinctive maternal impulse which drew her to her charge when she heard that danger threatened him? Or was it antipathy for himself--the antipathy which long prejudice had given her for all who bore her brother-in-law's dishonored name? The shadow of doubt clouded his eyes, but his lips grew hard and resolute. Despard, if he had been there, would have recognized the symptoms. It was with that expression that Aylmer had led his guns into action on Colenso's already forgotten day of blood.
But as Mr. Van Arlen's narrative continued, the girl's features relaxed.
She turned and for the second time looked at Aylmer, doubtfully, indeed, but with the doubt of one who reconsiders, whose verdict is shaken by appeal.
"Captain Aylmer has been at considerable trouble to warn us," she said.
Aylmer shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "The warning I brought you was only part of my obvious duty. Surely you see that?"
There was a queer note of feeling below the restraint in his voice. She recognized it and interest grew in her glance. She looked at him keenly.
"After all, you have put yourself out to a.s.sist us in what is solely our own hazard," she protested. But there was something in her look which seemed to put the emphasis of her words awry. Was she hinting that he might have minded his own business, or was she p.r.i.c.king his sense of honor purposely, to judge him out of his own mouth.
"I thought of your hazard, truly enough," he answered slowly. "I was thinking, perhaps more earnestly, of my own and my family's reputation.
You forget that if you and your father have a heavy reckoning against my cousin, his own kinsmen, whom I represent, consider that theirs is no lighter."
She considered him gravely.
"No," she answered quietly. "No, I did not get that point of view. I did not even believe it a possible one, amongst Aylmers. There I have to ask your forgiveness."
There was the hint of a smile lurking in her eyes, something that hinted that she exaggerated in saying this and knew it. But there was perfect seriousness in his reply.
"That is taken for granted. And my position in this matter is taken for granted, too?"
She looked at him questioningly again and then at her father. The latter smiled.
"Captain Aylmer has his own grudge against this child's father. He offers us his co-operation."
"And I ask for the friendly treatment of an ally," added Aylmer, quietly.
Her look was still doubtful and, unconsciously, perhaps, she frowned.
"Considering what we already owe you--" she began. He interrupted with a gesture.
"You owe me nothing," he said. "If you reckon profit and loss in your dealings with Aylmers, you have a wide balance against you. All I want is your friendly tolerance, while I pay in instalments."
She still seemed to ponder his proposal, to review it with the interest of a curiosity which has been imperfectly fed.
"What is your ultimate goal, then?" she asked.
He hesitated. A queer glint of pa.s.sion shone in his eyes to sink into shadow again.
"My goal is the trapping of Landon into an English gaol, for espionage and robbery. Or--" He shrugged his shoulders meaningly.
"Or?"
"Or his death," he said, in very distinct, level tones.
"Ah!" The exclamation came from her almost unconsciously. Her face shone with a sudden alertness, her expression warmed, her eyes grew bright.
"You would not hesitate--at that?" she demanded.
Mr. Van Arlen made a little inarticulate murmur of protest; his hand was stretched towards her with appeal.
She disregarded it. Her eyes were fixed piercingly on Aylmer's face.
He met her glance with matter-of-factness.
"I should not hesitate, if need arose," he said.
She drew a long breath. Her features relaxed.
"Thank you," she said gravely. "Now I know where we stand. And then--that is all?"
This time it was his eyes which held hers with insistence, almost with menacing, she told herself.
"No," he said quietly. "That is--not all. But that, for the present, is enough."
For a moment her heart seemed to halt in its beat, the blood rushed to her face, the pulse of anger which leaped through her gave her a queer sense of choking. For she understood. Incredible, monstrous, as his purpose appeared in the light of her loathing of those who bore his name, she had not misread it. His words? They were possibly nebulous.
But his eyes? No. No woman could misunderstand that look. Steadfast, patient, determined--the unswerving gaze of the pioneer who sees the unseen goal with the eye of faith, and sees it won.
She wheeled her mule with a fierce drag of the rein; her spur found its flank and forced it forward. She felt morally stunned by this--this insolence; mere words could not meet it. For the moment she felt herself deprived of weapons by the unexpectedness of the attack.
Her movement set the whole party in motion. Her father reined up to her side. She stole a half glance at his face. There was a queer, partly grim, partly puzzled expression on it, but she read, too, a glint of humor? Her exasperation rose. Her father, even? Had he gone over to the enemy; could she no longer reckon that his support would not crumble from resentment into laughter? Oh, this imperturbable Englishman should pay for this! If there was one shaft of gall left in her woman's armory, he should pay! The insolence of the man--the unparalleled insolence!
Behind her she heard his voice, addressed to Absalaam in trivial inquiry. She felt an overwhelming desire to forestall the answer with indignant words of bitter loathing. His impa.s.sibility excited her--the serenity with which he pa.s.sed back, as it were, to little things after launching such a bomb. She gave a s.h.i.+ver of pa.s.sion, or, perhaps, fear had its place in her emotion. There was something relentless in his att.i.tude, something uncompromising.
Absalaam's answer was forestalled, but not by her. Little John Aylmer's voice rang out, shrill with the joy of discovery.
"The brown man!" he cried rapturously. "The brown man!"
The other John Aylmer looked up. A couple of men had come into sudden view round a corner of the track. A clump of Spanish broom had hidden their approach; they gave an exclamation of alarm as they met the glances of the riders not thirty yards away.
One Aylmer recognized at once. He was the man of the pier, the would-be kidnapper whose purpose he himself had frustrated at the moment of success.
The other man made a movement to cover his face with the hood of his _djelab_, but by some apparent unadroitness let it fall further back.
And so revealed his ident.i.ty.
It was Landon--brought to a sudden halt by surprise.