The Pursuit Part 34

"This month of toil, all our leagues of weariness and pain among the men of the M'Geel are things lost, then," went on the Moor impa.s.sively. "An order has come and we must leap to obey it. The Sidi Jan, too? His voice is not to be heard in the matter." He shrugged his shoulders apathetically. "Only a child," he added, and touched the golden curls with a caressing hand. "Only a bale of merchandise, a thing to be bought and sold."

Miller turned and looked at him keenly. The Moor met the glance with a droop of the head which spoke eloquently of submission. But a queer smile began to harden Landon's lips. He rose slowly to his feet.

"A bale of merchandise," he repeated slowly. "And, as I am reminded, we toiled to bring it uninjured across the wilds of the Beni M'Geel. Will that be reckoned in the value of it?" he asked, and wheeled suddenly towards Miller with a savage, cat-like motion. "Will they pay me for my sweat and thirst and pain?"

The gray man was silent for a moment. There was something electric in the atmosphere, something menacing, something--and this was perhaps what his machine-like mind shrank from most--something human and pa.s.sionate.

These were not among the goods which Mr. Miller sought to purchase.

"You will do your own bargaining," he said, in a level, dispa.s.sionate tone. "But the child must be delivered. The price? There you are master of your own affairs."

For the second time Landon's eyes dwelled on Muhammed's face.

"I shall answer him--how?" he asked quietly.

"Thus!" said the Moor, and flung his arms round Miller's elbows and smothered his lips upon his breast, while Landon, laughing a queer, excited laugh, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a garment from the dismal heap on the floor, tore off a liberal patch, and deftly wound it in gag-wise between the prisoner's teeth. Shackled with ragged waist-cloths at ankle and wrist, the gray figure was lowered down the steps into the darkness. Muhammed spoke rapidly and incisively for the s.p.a.ce of a minute to the Jew, who listened in impa.s.sive silence. Then, with a last commanding gesture, the Moor opened the door and went out again alone into the swiftly falling dusk.

CHAPTER XVII

MUHAMMED SCORES TWICE

Muhammed's steps were bent away from the town towards the row of dilapidated hovels which fringe the bank of sand below the nearer blockhouse. And he walked quickly; there was definite purpose and no sign of hesitation in his stride. He came to a halt before a dwelling, half burrow, half barn, round the entrance of which were cl.u.s.tered half a dozen ragged figures.

The Moor's face was dark in the shadow of his _haik_ hood, but he appeared to need no introduction. He raised a finger and beckoned. One of the lounging figures rose grudgingly and drew aside with him.

"I have it from Yakoob, Signor Luigi, that you leave to-morrow. That must be altered. It may be necessary to make a start to-night."

The other raised a dark Italian face towards the Moor and eyed him questioningly. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I have no charter from Yakoob," he said. "I return home to Salicudi--to await the sponge-fis.h.i.+ng season. I need a holiday; this contraband running frets the nerves, do you see? I wish to forget the need of having eyes--and a telescope--at the back of one's head."

For a moment Muhammed was silent, debating, as it seemed, something in which memory or experience gave him no a.s.sistance.

"Salicudi?" he questioned.

"In the Lipari group," said the other, laconically. "My home."

"An island?" said the Moor. "And your home? What is it? A house--a hut--a castle? Give me particulars. My chiefest need would be privacy.

Can you guarantee it?"

The Italian pondered.

"You flee from--what?" he demanded.

"From a curiosity which still seems to dog my footsteps," said the Moor, drily. "Let it be sufficient for you to know that with three friends I desire to vanish from Melilla to-night. We might find it convenient to remain temporarily on Salicudi. It depends on your neighbors' thirst for information and your capabilities of defeating it."

Signor Luigi gave an expressive and contemptuous wave of the hand.

"On Salicudi are six families--cousins of mine, all of them. I and my brother Sandro alone possess boats or money. The others work for us and are fed. We do not encourage them to think; they do not tire their magnificent brains except under our direction."

Muhammed nodded appreciatively.

"The priest?" he suggested.

"Father Sigismondi serves six islands besides mine," said the smuggler.

"He visits us by favor of my boat, when Christian offices are in special demand. It is a matter I regulate myself."

"Carabineers, tax collectors?"

"Of the former, none; we have leave to cut our own throats. Of the latter, one yearly. He is due in about eight months' time."

"Food?"

"Polenta--fish--beans; at times of _festa_ a _risotto_ of kid. We have goats, and therefore milk."

The Moor nodded.

"I am empowered to offer you for your hospitality for myself and friends twenty _lire_ per head per week during our stay on your boat or island,"

he said slowly.

Luigi scratched his head.

"One hundred _lire_ for the lot?" he temporized. "You have appet.i.tes, you Moors; that is notorious."

"We have appet.i.tes--for food," agreed Muhammed. "The bill of fare you quote contains little that would be dignified as such in my way of thinking. You will take eighty _lire_ per week, or lose this trade of Yakoob's. Choose quickly."

For the second time the Italian's shoulders rose in a shrug.

"What you will," he said apathetically. "You hold a pistol to my head."

"Try to remember that it remains always loaded," replied the other, and turned briskly towards the port. "You had better see to your arrangements instantly."

He pa.s.sed across the sand towards the dirty little Marina which fronts the s.h.i.+pping offices and s.h.i.+p-chandlers' booths, leaving his companion staring after him with a frown. Then, for the third time, Signor Luigi shrugged his shoulders and followed, to enter finally a s.h.i.+p's dingy which was tied to the Marina steps. In this he gained a large lateen-rigged boat which swung at her moorings in the bay.

The motor launch floated idly on the ripples at the landing stage immediately below the citadel. The engineer had come ash.o.r.e and sat on a bench beneath the tarpaulin which had been roughly erected to protect some perishable government stores. In the shadow of the Marina booths, Muhammed halted and looked thoughtfully at the man and then at the launch and finally at the setting sun. The birth of a new and up-lifting emotion could be seen working in his expressive eyes.

"Bismillah!" he exclaimed softly. "The one! Why not the three!"

He drew himself up; a deep breath escaped him. He slipped around the back of the line of booths and reappeared coming as from the citadel.

And he had the aspect of haste and importance.

He walked straight up to the waiting engineer.

"I bring an order that you do not await your mistress but return for her in three hours' time," he said in excellent English.

The man looked up in stolid surprise.