Chapter 20
Though her clothes were torn and her hair disheveled,Albert Werper realized that he never before had lookedupon such a vision of loveliness as that which LadyGreystoke presented in the relief and joy which shefelt in coming so unexpectedly upon a friend andrescuer when hope had seemed so far away.
If the Belgian had entertained any doubts as to thewoman's knowledge of his part in the perfidious attackupon her home and herself, it was quickly dissipated bythe genuine friendliness of her greeting. She told himquickly of all that had befallen her since he haddeparted from her home, and as she spoke of the deathof her husband her eyes were veiled by the tears whichshe could not repress.
"I am shocked," said Werper, in well-simulatedsympathy; "but I am not surprised. That devil there,"and he pointed toward the body of Achmet Zek, "hasterrorized the entire country. Your Waziri are eitherexterminated, or have been driven out of their country,far to the south. The men of Achmet Zek occupy theplain about your former home--there is neithersanctuary nor escape in that direction. Our only hopelies in traveling northward as rapidly as we may, ofcoming to the camp of the raiders before the knowledgeof Achmet Zek's death reaches those who were leftthere, and of obtaining, through some ruse, an escorttoward the north.
"I think that the thing can be accomplished, for I wasa guest of the raider's before I knew the nature of theman, and those at the camp are not aware that I turnedagainst him when I discovered his villainy.
"Come! We will make all possible haste to reach thecamp before those who accompanied Achmet Zek upon hislast raid have found his body and carried the news ofhis death to the cut-throats who remained behind. Itis our only hope, Lady Greystoke, and you must placeyour entire faith in me if I am to succeed. Wait forme here a moment while I take from the Arab's body thewallet that he stole from me," and Werper steppedquickly to the dead man's side, and, kneeling, soughtwith quick fingers the pouch of jewels. To hisconsternation, there was no sign of them in thegarments of Achmet Zek. Rising, he walked back alongthe trail, searching for some trace of the missingpouch or its contents; but he found nothing, eventhough he searched carefully the vicinity of his deadhorse, and for a few paces into the jungle on eitherside. Puzzled, disappointed and angry, he at lastreturned to the girl. "The wallet is gone," heexplained, crisply, "and I dare not delay longer insearch of it. We must reach the camp before thereturning raiders."
Unsuspicious of the man's true character, Jane Claytonsaw nothing peculiar in his plans, or in his speciousexplanation of his former friendship for the raider,and so she grasped with alacrity the seeming hope forsafety which he proffered her, and turning about sheset out with Albert Werper toward the hostile camp inwhich she so lately had been a prisoner.
It was late in the afternoon of the second day beforethey reached their destination, and as they paused uponthe edge of the clearing before the gates of the walledvillage, Werper cautioned the girl to accede towhatever he might suggest by his conversation with theraiders.
"I shall tell them," he said, "that I apprehended youafter you escaped from the camp, that I took you toAchmet Zek, and that as he was engaged in a stubbornbattle with the Waziri, he directed me to return tocamp with you, to obtain here a sufficient guard, andto ride north with you as rapidly as possible anddispose of you at the most advantageous terms to acertain slave broker whose name he gave me."
Again the girl was deceived by the apparent franknessof the Belgian. She realized that desperate situationsrequired desperate handling, and though she trembledinwardly at the thought of again entering the vile andhideous village of the raiders she saw no better coursethan that which her companion had suggested.
Calling aloud to those who tended the gates, Werper,grasping Jane Clayton by the arm, walked boldly acrossthe clearing. Those who opened the gates to himpermitted their surprise to show clearly in theirexpressions. That the discredited and huntedlieutenant should be thus returning fearlessly of hisown volition, seemed to disarm them quite aseffectually as his manner toward Lady Greystoke haddeceived her.
The sentries at the gate returned Werper's salutations,and viewed with astonishment the prisoner whom hebrought into the village with him.
Immediately the Belgian sought the Arab who had beenleft in charge of the camp during Achmet Zek's absence,and again his boldness disarmed suspicion and won theacceptance of his false explanation of his return.The fact that he had brought back with him the womanprisoner who had escaped, added strength to his claims,and Mohammed Beyd soon found himself fraternizinggood-naturedly with the very man whom he would have slainwithout compunction had he discovered him alone in thejungle a half hour before.
Jane Clayton was again confined to the prison hut shehad formerly occupied, but as she realized that thiswas but a part of the deception which she and Frecoultwere playing upon the credulous raiders, it was withquite a different sensation that she again entered thevile and filthy interior, from that which she hadpreviously experienced, when hope was so far away.
Once more she was bound and sentries placed before thedoor of her prison; but before Werper left her hewhispered words of cheer into her ear. Then he left,and made his way back to the tent of Mohammed Beyd.He had been wondering how long it would be before theraiders who had ridden out with Achmet Zek would returnwith the murdered body of their chief, and the more hethought upon the matter the greater his fears became,that without accomplices his plan would fail.
What, even, if he got away from the camp in safetybefore any returned with the true story of his guilt--of what value would this advantage be other than toprotract for a few days his mental torture and hislife? These hard riders, familiar with every trail andbypath, would get him long before he could hope toreach the coast.
As these thoughts passed through his mind he enteredthe tent where Mohammed Beyd sat cross-legged upon arug, smoking. The Arab looked up as the European cameinto his presence.
"Greetings, O Brother!" he said.
"Greetings!" replied Werper.
For a while neither spoke further. The Arab was thefirst to break the silence.
"And my master, Achmet Zek, was well when last you sawhim?" he asked.
"Never was he safer from the sins and dangers ofmortality," replied the Belgian.
"It is well," said Mohammed Beyd, blowing a little puffof blue smoke straight out before him.
Again there was silence for several minutes.
"And if he were dead?" asked the Belgian, determined tolead up to the truth, and attempt to bribe MohammedBeyd into his service.
The Arab's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, hisgaze boring straight into the eyes of the Belgian.
"I have been thinking much, Werper, since you returnedso unexpectedly to the camp of the man whom you haddeceived, and who sought you with death in his heart.I have been with Achmet Zek for many years--his ownmother never knew him so well as I. He never forgives--much less would he again trust a man who had oncebetrayed him; that I know.
"I have thought much, as I said, and the result of mythinking has assured me that Achmet Zek is dead--forotherwise you would never have dared return to hiscamp, unless you be either a braver man or a biggerfool than I have imagined. And, if this evidence of myjudgment is not sufficient, I have but just nowreceived from your own lips even more confirmatorywitness--for did you not say that Achmet Zek was nevermore safe from the sins and dangers of mortality?
"Achmet Zek is dead--you need not deny it. I was nothis mother, or his mistress, so do not fear that mywailings shall disturb you. Tell me why you have comeback here. Tell me what you want, and, Werper, if youstill possess the jewels of which Achmet Zek told me,there is no reason why you and I should not ride northtogether and divide the ransom of the white woman andthe contents of the pouch you wear about your person. Eh?"
The evil eyes narrowed, a vicious, thin-lipped smiletortured the villainous face, as Mohammed Beyd grinnedknowingly into the face of the Belgian.
Werper was both relieved and disturbed by the Arab'sattitude. The complacency with which he accepted thedeath of his chief lifted a considerable burden ofapprehension from the shoulders of Achmet Zek'sassassin; but his demand for a share of the jewelsboded ill for Werper when Mohammed Beyd should havelearned that the precious stones were no longer in theBelgian's possession.
To acknowledge that he had lost the jewels might be toarouse the wrath or suspicion of the Arab to such anextent as would jeopardize his new-found chances ofescape. His one hope seemed, then, to lie in fosteringMohammed Beyd's belief that the jewels were still inhis possession, and depend upon the accidents of thefuture to open an avenue of escape.
Could he contrive to tent with the Arab upon the marchnorth, he might find opportunity in plenty to removethis menace to his life and liberty--it was worthtrying, and, further, there seemed no other way out ofhis difficulty.
"Yes," he said, "Achmet Zek is dead. He fell in battlewith a company of Abyssinian cavalry that held mecaptive. During the fighting I escaped; but I doubt ifany of Achmet Zek's men live, and the gold they soughtis in the possession of the Abyssinians. Even now theyare doubtless marching on this camp, for they were sentby Menelek to punish Achmet Zek and his followers for araid upon an Abyssinian village. There are many ofthem, and if we do not make haste to escape we shallall suffer the same fate as Achmet Zek."
Mohammed Beyd listened in silence. How much of theunbeliever's story he might safely believe he did notknow; but as it afforded him an excuse for desertingthe village and making for the north he was notinclined to cross-question the Belgian too minutely.
"And if I ride north with you," he asked, "half thejewels and half the ransom of the woman shall be mine?"
"Yes," replied Werper.
"Good," said Mohammed Beyd. "I go now to give theorder for the breaking of camp early on the morrow,"and he rose to leave the tent.
Werper laid a detaining hand upon his arm.
"Wait," he said, "let us determine how many shallaccompany us. It is not well that we be burdened bythe women and children, for then indeed we might beovertaken by the Abyssinians. It would be far betterto select a small guard of your bravest men, and leaveword behind that we are riding WEST. Then, whenthe Abyssinians come they will be put upon the wrongtrail should they have it in their hearts to pursue us,and if they do not they will at least ride north withless rapidity than as though they thought that we wereahead of them."
"The serpent is less wise than thou, Werper," saidMohammed Beyd with a smile. "It shall be done as yousay. Twenty men shall accompany us, and we shall rideWEST--when we leave the village."
"Good," cried the Belgian, and so it was arranged.
Early the next morning Jane Clayton, after an almostsleepless night, was aroused by the sound of voicesoutside her prison, and a moment later, M. Frecoult,and two Arabs entered. The latter unbound her anklesand lifted her to her feet. Then her wrists wereloosed, she was given a handful of dry bread, and ledout into the faint light of dawn.
She looked questioningly at Frecoult, and at a momentthat the Arab's attention was attracted in anotherdirection the man leaned toward her and whispered thatall was working out as he had planned. Thus assured,the young woman felt a renewal of the hope which thelong and miserable night of bondage had almost expunged.
Shortly after, she was lifted to the back of a horse,and surrounded by Arabs, was escorted through thegateway of the village and off into the jungle towardthe west. Half an hour later the party turned north,and northerly was their direction for the balance ofthe march.
M. Frecoult spoke with her but seldom, and sheunderstood that in carrying out his deception he mustmaintain the semblance of her captor, rather thanprotector, and so she suspected nothing though she sawthe friendly relations which seemed to exist betweenthe European and the Arab leader of the band.
If Werper succeeded in keeping himself fromconversation with the young woman, he failed signallyto expel her from his thoughts. A hundred times a dayhe found his eyes wandering in her direction andfeasting themselves upon her charms of face and figure.Each hour his infatuation for her grew, until hisdesire to possess her gained almost the proportions ofmadness.
If either the girl or Mohammed Beyd could have guessedwhat passed in the mind of the man which each thought afriend and ally, the apparent harmony of the littlecompany would have been rudely disturbed.
Werper had not succeeded in arranging to tent withMohammed Beyd, and so he revolved many plans for theassassination of the Arab that would have been greatlysimplified had he been permitted to share the other'snightly shelter.
Upon the second day out Mohammed Beyd reined his horseto the side of the animal on which the captive wasmounted. It was, apparently, the first notice whichthe Arab had taken of the girl; but many times duringthese two days had his cunning eyes peered greedilyfrom beneath the hood of his burnoose to gloat upon thebeauties of the prisoner.
Nor was this hidden infatuation of any recent origin.He had conceived it when first the wife of theEnglishman had fallen into the hands of Achmet Zek; butwhile that austere chieftain lived, Mohammed Beyd hadnot even dared hope for a realization of hisimaginings.
Now, though, it was different--only a despised dog of aChristian stood between himself and possession of thegirl. How easy it would be to slay the unbeliever, andtake unto himself both the woman and the jewels! Withthe latter in his possession, the ransom which might beobtained for the captive would form no great inducementto her relinquishment in the face of the pleasures ofsole ownership of her. Yes, he would kill Werper,retain all the jewels and keep the Englishwoman.
He turned his eyes upon her as she rode along at hisside. How beautiful she was! His fingers opened andclosed--skinny, brown talons itching to feel the softflesh of the victim in their remorseless clutch.
"Do you know," he asked leaning toward her, "where thisman would take you?"
Jane Clayton nodded affirmatively.
"And you are willing to become the plaything of a blacksultan?"
The girl drew herself up to her full height, and turnedher head away; but she did not reply. She feared lesther knowledge of the ruse that M. Frecoult was playingupon the Arab might cause her to betray herself throughan insufficient display of terror and aversion.
"You can escape this fate," continued the Arab;"Mohammed Beyd will save you," and he reached out abrown hand and seized the fingers of her right hand ina grasp so sudden and so fierce that this brutalpassion was revealed as clearly in the act as thoughhis lips had confessed it in words. Jane Claytonwrenched herself from his grasp.
"You beast!" she cried. "Leave me or I shall call M.Frecoult."
Mohammed Beyd drew back with a scowl. His thin, upperlip curled upward, revealing his smooth, white teeth.
"M. Frecoult?" he jeered. "There is no such person.The man's name is Werper. He is a liar, a thief, and amurderer. He killed his captain in the Congo countryand fled to the protection of Achmet Zek. He ledAchmet Zek to the plunder of your home. He followedyour husband, and planned to steal his gold from him.He has told me that you think him your protector, andhe has played upon this to win your confidence that itmight be easier to carry you north and sell you intosome black sultan's harem. Mohammed Beyd is your onlyhope," and with this assertion to provide the captivewith food for thought, the Arab spurred forward towardthe head of the column.
Jane Clayton could not know how much of Mohammed Beyd'sindictment might be true, or how much false; but atleast it had the effect of dampening her hopes andcausing her to review with suspicion every past act ofthe man upon whom she had been looking as her soleprotector in the midst of a world of enemies anddangers.
On the march a separate tent had been provided for thecaptive, and at night it was pitched between those ofMohammed Beyd and Werper. A sentry was posted at thefront and another at the back, and with theseprecautions it had not been thought necessary toconfine the prisoner to bonds. The evening followingher interview with Mohammed Beyd, Jane Clayton sat forsome time at the opening of her tent watching the roughactivities of the camp. She had eaten the meal thathad been brought her by Mohammed Beyd's Negro slave--ameal of cassava cakes and a nondescript stew in which anew-killed monkey, a couple of squirrels and theremains of a zebra, slain the previous day, wereimpartially and unsavorily combined; but the one-timeBaltimore belle had long since submerged in the sternbattle for existence, an estheticism which formerlyrevolted at much slighter provocation.
As the girl's eyes wandered across the trampled jungleclearing, already squalid from the presence of man, sheno longer apprehended either the nearer objects of theforeground, the uncouth men laughing or quarrelingamong themselves, or the jungle beyond, whichcircumscribed the extreme range of her material vision.Her gaze passed through all these, unseeing, to centeritself upon a distant bungalow and scenes of happysecurity which brought to her eyes tears of mingled joyand sorrow. She saw a tall, broad-shouldered manriding in from distant fields; she saw herself waitingto greet him with an armful of fresh-cut roses from thebushes which flanked the little rustic gate before her.All this was gone, vanished into the past, wiped out bythe torches and bullets and hatred of these hideous anddegenerate men. With a stifled sob, and a littleshudder, Jane Clayton turned back into her tent andsought the pile of unclean blankets which were her bed.Throwing herself face downward upon them she sobbedforth her misery until kindly sleep brought her, atleast temporary, relief.
And while she slept a figure stole from the tent thatstood to the right of hers. It approached the sentrybefore the doorway and whispered a few words in theman's ear. The latter nodded, and strode off throughthe darkness in the direction of his own blankets.The figure passed to the rear of Jane Clayton's tentand spoke again to the sentry there, and this man alsoleft, following in the trail of the first.
Then he who had sent them away stole silently to thetent flap and untying the fastenings entered with thenoiselessness of a disembodied spirit.