The Wheel O' Fortune Part 39

Then he remembered why this solitary place had become a Golgotha. The hapless von Kerber was disinterring the treasure when the Hadendowa a.s.sault began. In all likelihood, had the free-booters ridden boldly up in the first instance, the fight would have ended in less minutes than it had occupied hours. And these other ghouls, before they were driven off by a hail of lead, had learnt what store of wealth was buried there beneath the sand.

"Chaytor," said Royson, addressing one of the crew who had acted as quartermaster on board the yacht, "take three men and mount guard over any trench or other excavation you may find in the valley between those mounds. Let no Arab even approach the place. Use force if necessary, but try and avoid any shooting. I shall join you there before sunset."

"Ay, ay, sir," said Chaytor. He named three men, and the four hurried to their post. Bidding the other two sailors help him, Royson turned to carry out a disagreeable task. Von Kerber, Alfieri, and the rest must be buried while there was yet light. He meant to make a rough inventory of doc.u.ments and letters found in the pockets of the Europeans. The Arabs would scoop shallow graves where the sand was deepest, and pile heavy stones over the bodies to protect them from jackals. Such was the simple ceremony of the desert. And it demanded haste.

But a distressing sight awaited him. Mrs. Haxton was kneeling by von Kerber's side, and weeping in a heart-broken way. He went to her, and said, almost in a whisper:

"You can do no good by remaining here. Won't you go to the tent that is fixed in the oasis, and wait there until I join you? I shall not be long. You understand--it is for the best."

She raised her streaming eyes, and he had never before seen such a grief-stricken face.

"Mr. Royson," she murmured dully, "let me pray yet a little while."

"Indeed I am sorry for you," he said. "Yet I must urge you to go. We have not a moment to lose."

"To lose? What else can happen?"

"The night is coming. We cannot leave the bodies here. It would be too horrible."

"Ah," she sighed, "there is no horror to equal mine. I have the blood of three men on my soul."

She suffered him to lead her away. He tried to console her by throwing all the responsibility on to the Italian. But he felt that this palsied woman scarce listened to his words. He was almost glad to leave her alone with her mournful thoughts. In active work he could find distraction from the sad influences of this fatal treasure-hunt. There were still many things he did not comprehend, but he resolutely dismissed all self-communing. Perhaps, when the first paroxysm of woe had exhausted itself, Mrs. Haxton might explain; meanwhile, he must endeavor to hide the chief features of the tragedy ere Irene arrived.

When he moved Alfieri's body is order to examine his clothing, he saw that the man's coat was torn at the breast, the cloth having caught a jagged rock as its wearer fell from the saddle. Through this rent a pocketbook and some papers had slipped out. They were resting on a little sand drift at the base of the rock that had caused the damage.

The pocketbook was open. Some of the sand had entered its compartments.

And, in one of them, were the papyrus leaves found in the tomb of Demetriades, the Greek, whose mortal eyes were the last that had gazed on the treasure of Sheba! In truth, here was one of the world's dramas, with its scenes divided by two thousand years, yet the parched desert was content to wait there placidly, in sure and certain knowledge that the curtain would rise again on that grim play, whether the years were few or many between the acts. How little changed was the stage. But what of the actors? Did the modern troupe differ so greatly from the two-thousand-year-old cast--the merchant in ivory and skins who quitted his quiet business at Alexandria to seek adventure and gold, the Romans who went to kill and plunder an inoffensive people, the Nubians who waylaid them, and left their bones to bleach? a.s.suredly, looking at the dozen or more dead bodies stretched in a row at his feet, Royson deemed mankind as unchangeable as the desert.

At two o'clock, when the stars and a new moon were dimly lighting the circle of hills, an Arab vedette reported the approach of a large _kafila_ from the west. Soon the jingle of accouterments and the cries of camels who scented the oasis heralded the arrival of the main body.

When d.i.c.k lifted a weary Irene from the saddle he made no pretense of shyness, but kissed her quite heartily.

Yet d.i.c.k's tidings caused grave faces in the small circle round the camp-fire. Mr. Fenshawe, as responsible leader of the expedition, felt the weight of this added burthen of death. There was no gainsaying the fact that he had been dragged into an unlawful enterprise. He was in Italian territory against the will of the authorities. Though he and those under his control were guiltless of actual wrong-doing, it was exceedingly unfortunate that Alfieri had not lived to make a deposition. The treasure-seekers must now depend on the testimony of the wounded Hadendowas, four of whom had surrendered voluntarily, for the one great principle which the East has learnt from the West is that Europeans usually show humanity to a disabled foe. Abdullah, too, a.s.sured the millionaire that the Italian officer who accompanied Alfieri from Ma.s.sowah warned the latter against any act of violence, and would have restrained him from undertaking an apparently useless search if the instructions received from Rome had not directed that "every a.s.sistance was to be given to Signor Giuseppe Alfieri."

There could be no manner of doubt that the Italian had begun an unprovoked attack on the smaller _kafila_. His only messengers were bullets, and the orders he issued to the Hadendowas were definite. The whole party was to be exterminated, with the exception of Mrs. Haxton, who was to be taken alive if possible. Again, there was direct evidence of his duplicity with regard to the meeting arranged for that morning.

Fenshawe's friendly letter was found among his papers, so he had hurried from his camp on the Suleiman's Well route with the deliberate intention of wiping out of existence the man who was his sworn enemy.

Still, the affair wore an ugly look, and tired though he was, Fenshawe had no thought of rest until the contradictory elements of a most perplexing business were sifted.

He was seated near the fire with Royson and Stump. Irene had gone to Mrs. Haxton the instant she heard d.i.c.k's tragic story.

"Has Mrs. Haxton thrown any light on events?" Fenshawe asked. "You say she was completely broken down. Did you gather from her words that von Kerber brought her here knowing that this oasis was the place described by the Greek?"

"She did not even mention the treasure. Perhaps I could have induced her to speak, but--"

"You forbore. I am glad of it. Has any of the loot been discovered?"

"It was dark when I visited the trench von Kerber was cutting. Alfieri sent a volley at him, and stopped the work before much was done, but the Arabs tell me that some leather wallets are visible. The men who were here this morning know that the contents are valuable, so I have stationed an armed guard there."

"I wish I could destroy every vestige of the wretched stuff. There is a curse on it."

Fenshawe's tone revealed how deeply he was moved.

"Where is Abdullah?" he cried suddenly. "If he will tell us the truth, we may reach firm ground in the midst of all this mora.s.s of lies and treachery. Send for him. He is an Arab, and, if he thinks his interests are bound up with ours, he will speak."

Abdullah, surveying the conclave from afar, had arrived at an opinion that justified this estimate. His first words shed light on a dark place in the records of the two men who were lying side by side in the safe keeping of the desert. His command of French rendered conversation easy, except to Stump, and he was quite explicit.

"Madam is beautiful, is it not?" he said, indicating Mrs. Haxton's tent by a graceful gesture "Seven years ago, she was the most beautiful woman in Egypt. Her husband should not have brought her here. By Mahomet, Egypt is no place for the good-looking wife of a poor man.

That is the cause of all the trouble, messieurs. Elegant birds require glided cages, and Monsieur Hasten had not money enough. I met them first in Ma.s.sowah, where she lived in the hotel, while her husband went up and down the Red Sea in a s.h.i.+p. Alfieri was there, and he also was poor, but he ruined himself in trying to win her away from Monsieur Haxton. He failed, and, like many another man, that only made him worse. When Monsieur Haxton was sent to a.s.souan, by a new company, Alfieri went there, too. It was at that time I found the papers which tell about the treasure--"

"How do you know they tell about the treasure?" broke in Fenshawe.

"Because I stole them from Monsieur Haxton," was the cool reply. "I had sold them to Monsieur Alfieri, and he gave them to Madame's husband.

Monsieur le Baron was his doctor, and a friend, but, when he found out how valuable those papers were, he hired me to secure them from Monsieur Haxton's bureau while he slept. Unfortunately, there was an accident. Monsieur Haxton was in a fever, and the doctor gave him a sleeping draft. Monsieur Haxton took too much, and he never woke again."

Fenshawe's face grew dark with anger.

"You scoundrel!" he cried. "Between you, you poisoned the man. I recollect the incident now. I saw it in the papers at the time."

"You are wrong, Monsieur," said Abdullah calmly. "There was an inquiry, and it was proved that the draft was only a strong one--quite harmless if the doctor's written orders were obeyed. True, none but I and the Baron knew why the Englishman should sleep so soundly that night, but it was not meant to kill him. Monsieur Alfieri charged the doctor with having committed a crime, so Monsieur Haxton's. friends had the affair fully examined into. It was really an accident. Monsieur le Baron was exceedingly grieved."

"But he kept the papers?" was Fenshawe's grim comment.

"By the Kaaba, and why not? Here was Monsieur Alfieri trying to hang him, and all because Madame would not have anything to do with him. You see, there was every reason why the Hakim Effendi should get the papers. Monsieur Haxton was fool enough to tell Alfieri something about them."

"Probably Monsieur Haxton meant to play the part of an honest man."

"It may be. Who knows? Yet it is certain that Alfieri would never have shared the treasure with Monsieur Haxton If he had known what the writing was about. On the other hand, Monsieur le Baron told Madame everything, and he promised me a good share for helping him. When he went to England he left me to watch Alfieri. They were always enemies, those two."

d.i.c.k remembered the letter in Arabic he had seen von Kerber reading on the night they met in the Austrian's house. And he recalled, too, with a s.h.i.+ver, Mrs. Haxton's agonized words when he tried to lead her away from the dead man who had dared so much for her sake. She had "the blood of three men on her soul," she said. One of those men was her husband. In that dark hour, what terrible shadows had trooped from the tomb to torture her! He said nothing to his companions. She knew. He only guessed, and he left it at that.

Next day many hands completed the task von Kerber had begun. But Fenshawe had made up his mind on a course of action, and he adhered to it rigidly. The list given by Demetriades was almost correct. One hundred and seventy wallets were brought to light, just two less than the number stated by the Greek. They were left unopened. Exactly as they were taken from the sand so were they sealed and set aside until transportation details were arranged. Mr. Fenshawe pointed out to the men from the _Aphrodite_ how important it was that the treasure should be made over to the Italian Government intact. By that means alone could their story be justified, and he guaranteed that no one should suffer financial loss by reason of his decision.

Mrs. Haxton was too ill to be either questioned or consulted. She was carried to the sea almost at death's door, and her ultimate recovery was doubtful even a fortnight later, when the _Aphrodite_ brought them all to Aden. And it may be said here that the monetary value of the treasure was not great--its utmost figure being placed at 50,000. The two missing wallets were those containing the gems. Probably that was another story which the desert has in safe keeping. The Italian Foreign Office behaved generously to the disappointed archeologist. He was acquitted from any blame in regard to the affray at the Well of Moses, and he was asked to select for his own collection twelve of the ancient Persian and Indian gold vases which formed the chief prizes of the h.o.a.rd.

But that was long afterward, when Sir Richard and Lady Royson were on their honeymoon trip to j.a.pan, when Captain and Mrs. Stump, attended by the faithful Tagg, had enjoyed the "time of their lives" at Orme Castle, and when Mrs. Haxton, elegant as ever, but very quiet and reserved in manner, was living in a tiny villa at Bath, where Mr.

Fenshawe's munificence had established her for the remainder of her days. She said, and there was no reason to disbelieve her, that von Kerber had no knowledge of the ident.i.ty of the oasis at the Well of Moses. He went that way to the sea by sheer, accident and became half crazy with excitement at the sight of the Seven Hills. It was his fixed intention, she declared, to send word to Fenshawe as soon as he had ascertained, beyond range of doubt, that the Sheban loot was really buried there.

d.i.c.k and his wife pa.s.sed a fortnight at Cairo on their voyage home.

They chanced to admire some old praying carpets in a shop in the bazaar, and asked the price. They offered half the sum named, and the attendant, a slim youth, said he would consult his father.

A tall, stoutly-built Arab came from a dark inner apartment. His regular, somewhat grave, features at once expanded into a delighted smile.

"By the Prophet!" he exclaimed in excellent French, "I am overjoyed at seeing you, Monsieur et Madame. You will drink coffee with me, is it not? And, as for the rugs, take them. They are yours, I set up a shop with the money Monsieur Fenshawe gave me, and I am prosperous! _Que diable!_ That was a lucky journey for me when we all went south together. I have left the desert now. Behold! I am a good citizen, and pay taxes."

Irene laughed. She had never pictured Abdullah the Spear-thrower as a shop-keeper, and waxing fat withal.