Stolen Souls Part 35

"Hus.h.!.+" he whispered in Arabic; "make no noise, or we may be discovered.

It is cruel that a brave officer like thyself should be murdered," he added. "I have come to save thee."

"How didst thou know I was an officer?"

"Ask no questions," he replied. And drawing a keen knife from beneath his burnouse, he severed the cords that bound me.

"Thou art free," he said. "Come, follow me."

Picking up the bread I had not eaten, I thrust it into my pocket, and followed my unknown friend up a stony path that led into a narrow mountain pa.s.s. When some distance from the settlement, we came to a clump of trees, to one of which was tethered my camel.

"Quick! Mount and ride away," he urged. "Keep straight through the pa.s.s, and when thou gainest the desert, turn at once towards the north.

A day's journey from here will bring thee unto the encampment of thy comrades."

"Only a day's journey!" I cried. "To what do I owe the sudden interest that the daughter of the Sheikh hath taken in my welfare?" I asked, laughing.

"I know not. Women have such strange caprices sometimes. But get away quickly," he urged. "Lose not a moment, or thou wilt be overtaken.

_Slama. Alah iselemeck_!"

Turning from me, he hurried away; not, however, before I had discerned in the faint grey light that the face, half hidden by the spotless haick surrounding it, was beardless, evidently that of a woman. Was it Halima herself?

At first I was prompted to follow and ascertain; but next second I saw the grave risks we both were running, and, mounting my swift _meheri_, started off at a gallop over the rough stones and dunes of loose, treacherous sand.

Suddenly the crack of a rifle startled me. Then, as I glanced back, I saw, to my amazement and dismay, the slim, burnoused figure lying in a heap upon the stones; while three yelling, gesticulating Arabs were standing over it, cursing, brandis.h.i.+ng their knives and shaking their fists. Evidently they had shot my rescuer!

To linger, however, would mean death. Therefore, on emerging from the pa.s.s, I took the route described by the mysterious person who had given me my freedom; galloping over the trackless desert in a northerly direction, with eyes eager to discern the encampment of Spahis and Zouaves.

Before nightfall I was safe within the French lines, relating to General Le Pelletier the events of my journey, and explaining the perilous position of the 39th Regiment.

"But you mentioned something of dispatches, and a plan of the country?"

he said.

"Yes; I have them here," I replied.

Then, taking from my pocket the half-eaten roll of bread, I broke it, and took therefrom two small pieces of paper.

One was a map in miniature, showing the route he was to travel, and the other the dispatch.

"We are close upon them now," I remarked to an officer riding by my side on the next night. "They'll fight like demons."

Hardly had the words pa.s.sed my lips, before wild yells of rage rent the air on every side; and ere we could realise it, we had surprised the encampment of the Kel-Ahamellen, and rifles flashed on every side.

I need not describe the desperate hand-to-hand conflict in the darkness.

Suffice it to say, that we punished the tribe for their temerity in sentencing me to death.

When in the early morning, after a severe engagement, we walked among the ruins of the tents and heaps of dead, I searched diligently for Halima, being aided by a dozen other officers and men. But we did not discover her; and I became convinced that my worst fears were realised, and that she had fallen a victim to the relentless vengeance of her people.

Nearly two years elapsed before I again trod the asphalte of my beloved Paris.

A few weeks after my return to civilisation, I attended a ball at the German Emba.s.sy. I had been dancing, and was taking my partner, a rather skittish widow, into the supper-room, when I accidentally stepped upon and rent the dress-train of a dark-haired girl, who, leaning upon the arm of an elderly man, was walking before me.

She turned, and I bowed my apologies. The words died from my lips.

The woman, whose flower-trimmed dress I had torn, was Valerie! It was a mutual recognition; but neither of us spoke.

Half an hour later, however, I was sitting alone with her. To my fierce demands for an explanation of the sudden breaking off of her communications, she replied boldly, and with such an air of veracity that I hated myself for having spoken so harshly.

Judge my joy when she told me she was still unmarried, that the paragraph in the _Figaro_ was unauthorised, and that it had been inserted by some unknown enemy, during her absence from Paris.

"Then you are not Madame Delbet?" I cried, with ill-concealed delight.

"Certainly not; M'sieur Delbet is an old friend of our family, that is all," she replied, laughing. "After you left Oran, I could not write, as you were away in the desert. I read of your adventures and your bravery in the newspapers, but did not know where a letter would find you; therefore, I left all explanations of my enforced silence until your return."

"And--you still love me?" I asked, with trepidation, placing my arm tenderly around her slim waist, and drawing her towards me.

"Of course. But, _mon cher_, you have never doubted me, have you?"

"No," I replied, after an awkward pause, gazing fondly into her eyes.

"But now I have gained my promotion, will you become my wife?"

Her answer was affirmative, and we sealed our compact with a kiss.

Would that I could omit this last and terrible chapter of my biography.

But no! The hideous story must be related to its bitter end, to serve as warning to others.

Through closed windows and drawn curtains was borne the solemn clang of a bell in a church tower in the Avenue de Villiers, recording the death of to-day and the birth of to-morrow. A simple canary in its gilded cage, mistaking for morning suns.h.i.+ne the soft glow of electricity, as it filtered through its shade of orange silk, chirped a matin song in shrill staccato. A tiny slippered foot nervously patted the sleek fur of the tiger rug beneath it, a strong arm girt a slender waist; and, between the solemn strokes of the church bell, and the cheery pa.s.sages of the bird-song, quick, pa.s.sionate kisses alone stirred the scented air.

The man spoke. It was Rene Delbet!

"I must go now, darling," he said. "We have both braved too much already. He may return at any moment."

"And if he did?" Valerie asked defiantly.

"He might at least--suspect."

"Suspect?" and she laughed a chorus to the canary. "He doesn't know what suspicion means. He would trust me with Mephistopheles himself.

Should he find you here, he would only thank you for entertaining me.

He's the most easy-going fellow in the world."

The man smiled, released his companion from his embrace, and rose from the settee, upon which the two had been seated.

"I'm afraid, my dear," he said, "that you presume too much upon his confidence. There is no cord so elastic that it will not snap."

I waited for no more, but burst into the room, having, in my frenzy of madness, drawn a revolver from my pocket.