The Wheel O' Fortune Part 19

"Into the saddle, then, and let the reins hang loose. Moti will carry you safely, and it is but a broken road over the bridge."

Away they went, crossing some rough ground at an easy gallop, and d.i.c.k had his first experience of the remarkable sure-footedness of the Arab horse in his proper environment. Moti moved with the long lope of a greyhound, and used eyes and intelligence as well as feet. The pace set by Abdullah on the uneven causeway seemed to be dangerous, and would have brought down any animals but those accustomed to stone-strewn valleys or deserts in which patches of soft sand alternate with bare rock. When the mainland was reached, Royson rode alongside his companion.

"Where are we going?" he inquired.

"To a village. It is not far distant. There we may obtain news."

They pressed on. Were it not for the nature of his errand, d.i.c.k would have enjoyed the ride greatly, for the current of cool air was pleasing after the heat of Ma.s.sowah, and Moti carried him as though he were a feather-weight. But his heart was too care-laden to enter into the spirit of the adventure. Of all the queer incidents of an eventful day this gallop into an unknown land was the queerest. He could not help asking himself if he had done right. Yet the rea.s.suring answer came instantly. He had left indecision behind when he agreed to the Arab's conditions, and it was surely better to try whatever fixed plan the other had in mind than remain in Ma.s.sowah, a prey to hopeless, purposeless agony. For he knew now what it would mean to him if Irene Fenshawe were reft from his life, and the knowledge made his eyes blaze, and sent the pa.s.sionate blood coursing through his veins.

"Easily, monsieur. This is the place."

The Arab's strong, somewhat harsh voice, though pitched in a key not meant to reach too far, brought Royson back to his senses. Imitating his guide, he tightened the reins and pulled Moti to a walk. Then he made another discovery. They were on a Government road, which happened, at that point, to have a smooth surface, and Moti stumbled disgracefully, for your true desert Arab will fall over himself when he no longer needs to exercise his wits in order to keep his feet.

Behind a tumble-down hut a fire was blazing. Some men were squatted around a tripod which supported a large iron pot. One was speaking, and even Royson's untrained ear recognized the measured cadence of the story-teller. A rumble of laughter showed that the protest of some discomfited rogue or some wise moullah's saw had just tickled the audience when Abdullah leaped from the saddle and approached the circle.

"Peace be with you, brethren," said he, bowing gravely.

The story-teller broke off abruptly. One of the men rose and replied:

"With you be peace, brother, and the mercy of G.o.d, and His blessings."

This formula made it certain that the group near the fire were Mahomedans. "Es-salamu aleik.u.m!" is at once the test of the believer and the "Open, Sesame!" of the desert. Abdullah was sure now of a hearing, sure even of counsel and a.s.sistance, provided that his interests did not run counter to theirs.

Royson, dismounting for the sake of Moti, watched Abdullah's face in the flickering light of the fire to learn whether or not he was receiving the expected news. He might as well have sought inspiration from the starry vault overhead. But he was not long kept in suspense.

After the exchange of a few sentences with the man who had returned his salutation, Abdullah vouchsafed a brief translation.

"Not many minutes ago a carriage pa.s.sed this way. It took the road to the left, where it forks, not a hundred meters distant. We must ride hard, monsieur, for the driver was flogging his beasts. Perhaps we may have good fortune."

They were up, and away, thrusting into the darkness in a fast gallop.

At the parting of the roads they took the southern track, and the land almost immediately became hilly. They eased the horses somewhat during a long upward climb, but a plateau, followed by a gentle descent towards the sh.o.r.e, gave them a chance of mending the pace, and the wiry Arabs beneath them seemed to know that the more quickly the miles were covered the less distance would they be called on to travel.

On the level again, where the occulting beam of the Ma.s.sowah lighthouse was hidden by the buildings on the island, they unexpectedly came upon a disabled vehicle. It was tilted on the side of the road in a way that suggested a broken wheel, and a man was holding two ponies which had been taken out of the traces.

Abdullah pulled his steed almost on to its haunches, so suddenly did he draw rein. He pushed close to the horse-tender, a Somali, and a fierce dialogue broke out, which ended in the wrathful statement to Royson:

"This son of a slave says that this is not the carriage which pa.s.sed me in the bazaar. I believe he is lying, but what can I do?"

d.i.c.k, meanwhile, had ascertained that the conveyance was empty. His gorge rose at the thought that Irene might be near him at that moment, yet prevented by some ruffian from making known her presence. The belief was torturing; it impelled him to a deed which, in calmer mood, he would have declared foreign to his nature.

Handing Moti to Abdullah's care, he went so near to the driver, a man of powerful build, that he could look into his sullen face. With a quickness born of many a bout with the gloves, he seized the Somali by the wrists, causing him to let go the ponies' bridles. Then, heedless of straggles and oaths, he backed him a little s.p.a.ce, threw him off his feet, and three times whirled him through the air around his head. It was an exhibition of strength that forced a cry of amazement even from Abdullah.

"Now tell him," said d.i.c.k, when the panting and terrified native was allowed to stand upright again, "tell him that if he does not speak the truth, I shall take him by the ankles and beat out his brains against the rocks in that same way."

"By the Holy Kaaba!" chuckled Abdullah, "that would be worth seeing."

He conquered his desire sufficiently to put the threat into blood- curdling Arabic, and the Somali whined that he was a poor man, who only obeyed orders, but, if the G.o.d-like Nazarene would spare his life, he was ready to tell all he knew.

"Speak, then, and quickly," growled Abdullah, "for the Effendi understands thee not, and he may lose patience."

The driver stammered something which almost roused the Arab to excitement.

"Throw that dog aside, monsieur," he cried. "They are taking the lady to a boat. The place agreed for the meeting is yet nearly a thousand meters in front. Let us see what our horses can do."

They were off before he had finished speaking, but Abdullah smiled as he rode.

"Bismillah!" he muttered, "that is a fine trick. I must learn it."

On through the night they went, and happily the broken land receded here a little from the sh.o.r.e, leaving the road straight and fairly visible.

They had gone half a mile or more, and Royson was beginning to fear that either the Somali had been daring enough to mislead them or that Irene's guards had been warned by the noise of their advance and were crouching behind a clump of reeds until they pa.s.sed, when Abdullah lifted a restraining hand, and slackened pace.

Though the night was clear, and neighboring objects were quite discernible, Royson failed to pierce the further darkness. He strained his eyes, but could see nothing, while the Arab seemed to have a sixth sense which warned him that there were others near. They pulled up, and listened. d.i.c.k could hear only the labored breathing of their horses, yet Abdullah was evidently satisfied that their long chase was drawing to an end.

"Bear to the left, monsieur," he whispered. "They are there, by the water's edge. When I give the word, ride apart lest they fire at us, though they will hardly dare do that, lest we might prove to be soldiers from the garrison. Are you armed?"

"Sufficiently," said d.i.c.k grimly.

He felt able to tear any one limb from limb who resisted him. Once sure of his quarry, he would give short shrift. So they crept on, until the Arab shouted "Now!" and started off at a canter. d.i.c.k realized that the circling movement was best, as it suggested an attack in force, so he took a slight detour. He was closing in again before he perceived some irregular shadows, showing black against the translucent film of smooth water. That sufficed. He thundered on ahead of Abdullah, who, perhaps, thought it advisable to leave this final development in the hands of a European. There was a scurry among a small knot of men on the beach. A sharp hail was answered at a considerable distance from the sea. Royson rode with such furious speed that he now made out a white-robed female figure struggling in the grasp of a man attired in the burnous and hood of a coast Arab.

"Is that you, Miss Fenshawe?" he roared.

At the sound of an English voice three men scattered and fled like rabbits, but the fourth, he who clutched the woman, set her at liberty and drew a long knife. He bellowed forth some order, and another shout came from the sea. Then he poised himself ready to strike. Royson was within a horse's length, leaning forward in the saddle, when he caught the gleam of the uplifted weapon. At the same instant he recognized Irene, and saw that she was gagged, and her hands were tied behind her back. But her feet were free, and she deliberately kicked the Arab's ankle, thereby disconcerting his murderous thrust and nearly bringing him to the ground.

Then Royson's clenched fist fell like a sledge-hammer on his adversary's skull, and the man collapsed with a broken neck. Moti, well named "the Pearl," seemed to play this sort of game with the skill that a trained polo-pony shows in following the ball. He stopped almost of his own accord, wheeled, and allowed d.i.c.k to lift the girl in his arms.

Abdullah, who did not attempt to pursue the others, had not failed to note the rapid approach of a boat.

"Quick, now, monsieur," he said. "Make for the road!"

As they cantered off they heard some shouting in Arabic, and a few words of Italian, but d.i.c.k was looking into Irene's eyes. He was conscious only that he held her in a close embrace. His heart was thumping against his ribs. For one who had proved himself cool in an emergency he betrayed all the symptoms of unusual excitement.

"Are you uninjured?" he asked, with a marvelous tenderness in his voice, while his lips were very near to her swathed cheek.

She nodded. He fancied he caught a smile in her eyes. He did not know how lover-like was his clasp.

"We shall stop soon and release your bonds," he whispered. "Thank G.o.d I was able to find you."

Again he believed she smiled, but those beautiful brown eyes of hers seemed to fill with tears. He set his teeth, and breathed hard, but he was too wary to jeopardize success by halting until all danger of pursuit had disappeared. Then he pulled up, dismounted, and lifted Irene to the ground. She was gagged so tightly that he had to exercise some care in cutting the knotted strips of linen which bound her face and head. A piece of coa.r.s.e sacking had been thrust into her mouth, and she scarce had the power to utter a word when the brutal contrivance was withdrawn.

"Oh, Mr. Royson," she managed to gasp, "how can I thank you!"

"By not trying to talk until you feel better," said d.i.c.k. "There is a village not far away, and we should at least obtain some water there."

He was bending over her wrists in his anxiety not to hurt her unduly while he severed a stout rope, and he could not see the expression of sheer bewilderment which again mastered the usually impa.s.sive features of Abdullah. The Arab had yielded to unwonted surprise when he saw Royson use a man as flail, but the removal of the gag, and the consequent revelation of Irene's ident.i.ty, nearly stupefied him.

"May jackals defile my grave," he muttered, "but this is the wrong woman! Here have I, Abdullah the Spear-thrower, been, befooled by a black slave in the caravanserai. What have I done? By the beard of the Prophet, what shall I say if her capture was part of the Hakim Effendi's plan?"