distance from the nearest buildings on the outskirts of the city, while
the dogs' owners would probably be not very far behind, since they would
be certain to have come on horseback, so as to keep in reasonably close
touch with the hounds.
Drake drew his revolver from a fold of his voluminous Chinese jacket,
ranged himself alongside his friend, and, without a word, fired his
weapon at the first of the dogs, which by this time was almost upon
them. In his excitement, however, or perhaps because of the strain upon
his muscles from the long and fatiguing flight, he missed; and before he
could fire again the animal had sprung full at his throat, knocking him
down and sending the revolver flying out of his hand. In another second
Drake's throat would have been torn open by the savage, slavering beast,
but Frobisher was either cooler or more fortunate. Whirling himself
round right on top of the dog, he thrust his revolver's muzzle into its
ear and fired, at the moment when the terrible jaws were in the very act
of closing on his companion's throat.
He had no time to assist Drake to his feet, for the other two brutes
were in the very act of springing as he turned away from the dead dog
and cocked his weapon for a second shot. Strangely enough, this couple
entirely ignored Drake, and confined their attentions to Frobisher, who
only saved himself by making a rapid leap backward, and so avoiding
their first charge. Baulked in their spring, they seemed, like almost
all other savage animals, dazed for a moment, as though they could not
understand why they had missed their prey; and that momentary hesitation
gave Frobisher an opportunity to pull the trigger of his revolver, while
Drake, who had caught sight of his own weapon, half-buried in the sand a
few yards away, executed a quick roll in that direction, and in a second
had the revolver in his hand. Frobisher's bullet struck the creature he
aimed at in the upper part of the near fore leg, and, the heavy missile
shattering the bone like a pipe stem, the brute collapsed upon the
ground with a deep, raucous howl of pain.
At the same moment Drake raised his revolver and fired as he sat; and
this time his aim was excellent, the bullet striking the hound Frobisher
had just lamed full in the spine, severing the backbone and killing the
creature instantly. The other dog, apparently cowed by the death of its
mates, stood motionless, in a crouching attitude, glaring at each man in
turn, and seemingly undecided which to attack first; and its hesitation
or cowardice was fatal. The two men fired almost together, one bullet
drilling a hole in its skull, and the other smashing in at one side of
its body and out at the other. It did not live long enough to raise
even a whimper, but dropped dead where it stood, a pool of blood
immediately welling out from beneath the carcass.
"By Jove, Drake!" exclaimed Frobisher, "that shot of yours finished him
off in fine style. But what in the world are you using in that pistol?"
he went on, as he turned the body over and curiously examined a great
hole in the brute's side. "I've seen wounds like this in a man who has
been hit with a piece of `pot-leg' or a handful of nails, but never with
an ordinary bullet."
Drake winked. "That", he remarked, "is a little device of my own. I
have often noticed that it is a very difficult matter to bring down a
man, especially a fanatical savage, with an ordinary bullet; it goes in
at one side and out at the other so cleanly that the man whom it hits
does not know that he is hit until he is dead, and he frequently manages
to do a lot of damage before he dies. So I invented a little dodge
which I call the `man-stopper'. It consists in simply `rymering' a hole
in the nose of the bullet, with a file tang or anything else that comes
handy; then, when the bullet strikes, the edges of the hole expand and
become `mushroomed', and the man who is hit knows all about it, I assure
you. Of course that sort of thing is not permitted in civilised
warfare, but when fighting savages the trick is used quite frequently.
Indeed, this is the only kind of missile that will effectually stop a
rushing savage. I would advise you to treat your bullets in the same
way as soon as you have time. But these dogs' masters may appear in
sight at any moment; and if they do, before we leave this spot, and
happen to be mounted--as I feel sure they are--they will catch us easily
before we can possibly reach shelter, yonder. And we're scarcely
prepared to fight a crowd."
"You're right, skipper," agreed Frobisher; "let's get along as fast as
we can." And the two men, thrusting their revolvers into their pockets,
set off at top speed toward the ruined city, not a little refreshed by
their brief halt while fighting the dogs.
"I wonder," Drake jerked out as they ran, "how the pirates managed to
set those dogs after us? They hadn't any garments of yours, had they?
And I'm sure they had none of mine by which they could lay them on the
scent."
"They had my boots, confound them!" returned Frobisher, "as I am
beginning to realise to my cost. These wrappings are about worn
through, and my feet are almost as sore as though they had been
skinned."
"By Jove, yes! I had forgotten them," said the little skipper.
The two men pounded along over the sand in silence once more, the walls
and buildings of the ruined town standing out more and more clearly
every moment. Only another half-mile or so, and they would be safely
hidden from view among the maze-like streets of the place. But could
they do it in time? Would their pursuers sight them before they could
get under cover? These were the questions which haunted them both.
"See," Drake presently panted, pointing in front of him, "we are pretty
nearly there now. That opening in the walls is the site of one of the
city gates; and once inside that, we are safe."
Frobisher took a hasty glance behind him, but the pursuers had not yet
put in an appearance. There was nothing in sight but the three black
dots on the sand, where the fight with the dogs had taken place.
"Nothing in sight as yet," he gasped encouragingly to Drake, on whom the
pace was again beginning to tell. "Keep it up a little longer; we are
nearly there now."
A couple of minutes more of hard running placed them almost in the
shadow of the walls, and Frobisher was congratulating himself on their
escape, when suddenly something whizzed past his ear with a shrill,
whining sound, and starred itself out in a splash of metal on the stones
of the gateway, plainly visible in the moonlight. A moment later the
crack of a modern rifle made itself heard.
"Confound it!" growled Frobisher, looking round, "half a minute too
late, by all that's annoying! Buck up, Drake! Those fellows are in
sight and have spotted us," he shouted. "It will be touch-and-go now,
and no mistake."
Drake nobly responded to the call, and a few seconds later the two men
plunged through the gateway and were under cover. But, unfortunately,
their pursuers had seen where they had gone, and would not now be at all
likely to give up the chase until they had examined every possible
hiding-place inside the walls.
Along the first street that the fugitives came to they dashed, then down
a turning to the left, and along another street leading out of it, only
to find that this was a blind alley, and that their way was stopped.
"Quick--back again!" gasped Drake. "We cannot get out this way. Hurry,
or they'll catch us at the other end."
"No time," replied Frobisher, breathing heavily. "We must of necessity
go forward now. Here, into this open doorway! This will give us
shelter for the moment, and if they do not sight us they may not try
this street at all."
Accordingly they dashed into the house indicated by Frobisher, and
vanished from view just as a chorus of yells at the mouth of the street
indicated the arrival of their pursuers, while the clatter of horses'
hoofs told only too plainly that the pirates, even if they had not
actually sighted their quarry, had decided to search that particular
street, at all events.
"Here they come," whispered the skipper. "We mustn't stay here, or we
shall be caught like rats in a trap. Up this staircase for your life!
We'll get out on the roof, and make a stand there if they decide to
search the house."
Taking the stone steps two at a time, the fugitives dashed upward,
presently coming to a kind of landing from which several stone-flagged
passages radiated; thence they climbed up another narrow staircase which
led to the flat roof. They went up this last so quickly that Drake, who
was leading, had popped his head up above the level of the parapet
before he realised what he was doing. Luckily, none of the pirates
happened to be looking upward at that particular moment; they were all
riding helter-skelter down the street, evidently determined to see what
lay at the end. Drake counted them before getting under cover again,
and found that there were thirty of them; and that there might possibly
be others searching elsewhere, was a contingency to be kept in mind.
Frobisher had now also crept out on to the roof through the small
opening, or trap-door, at the top of the stairs, and both men cautiously
peeped over the low parapet. And as they watched, they saw the horsemen
come to a halt opposite the identical house they were in, evidently
discussing matters. Some appeared to think that the men they wanted had
not come that way at all, while others--these the majority--believed
differently, and seemed to want to search every house in the street. At
any rate they had certainly made up their minds to search this
particular dwelling, for they began to dismount outside the doorway.
"We're bottled at last, I'm afraid," said Frobisher. "What do you say
to our opening fire on 'em now?"
"Not yet," whispered Drake. "Let's see first if there isn't another way
down. If once they discover our presence here, they will get us for
certain; for we have only six shots left between us. I couldn't bring
any spare cartridge for reloads."
"Phew!" whistled Frobisher under his breath. "That's bad. We are in a
tight place indeed, then. Come, let's see if there's any other way
down."
They crept silently away from the parapet toward the back of the house,
and, to their intense gratification, discovered a flight of ruined stone
steps leading down the outside of the wall to a narrow alley in the
rear. Down these steps they at once made their way, then ran at top
speed up the alley and out of the end of it into one of the broader
streets of the city. They had now got a good start, for it would take
some little time for the pirates to ride round, even if they should
chance to catch sight of the fugitives. But no shouts were raised
behind them to indicate that they had been seen, and they sprinted along
over the rough cobbles for all they were worth. There was a large and
very handsome building at the end of this road, and they determined to
make for it, since a structure of that size would surely afford greater
facilities for concealment than a smaller house.
From its extent, which became more apparent as they drew nearer,
Frobisher conjectured that it was probably the ruins of some ancient
mandarin's palace, or possibly the summer palace of one of the petty
kings of China who ruled in the far-off days when the place was built;
for he could see at a glance that the city had been abandoned for
centuries, and that the buildings themselves were doubtless fairly
ancient at the time of the abandonment.
So absorbed were both men on the goal they had set themselves that they
dashed past the ends of sundry streets without even glancing down them,
and so failed to realise that they were still in considerable danger
until they heard a series of yells proceeding from one of them. The
enemy had divided forces, and one of these had passed ahead and,
searching the side streets, had seen the Englishmen run past. The
clatter of horses' hoofs told Drake and Frobisher that their pursuers
were close behind, and it did not seem possible now to get clear away.
Without consultation, they at once determined to sell their lives as
dearly as possible, and looked round them for some favourable place
where they might make a last stand. Then, with a muttered exclamation,
Frobisher seized Drake's arm and dragged him into a narrow passage
between two houses, just as the pirates swept into the street. The
passage was in deep shadow, and with one accord both men threw
themselves down at full length, hoping that they would not be seen, and
that the pirates would pass on, imagining their quarry still in front of
them.
And, luckily, this was just what happened. The pirates never thought of
examining the narrow passage--perhaps they never even saw it. At any
rate they dashed past and turned down another street, which they
evidently considered to be the road the fugitives had taken. The
instant they were out of sight Drake and his companion rose to their
feet and continued their run toward the palace, only a few hundred yards
away now. But they were not yet at the end of their troubles.
The horsemen, as soon as they had turned down the side street alluded
to, had seen that the fugitives were certainly not in it, or they would
have been in full view, unless indeed they had taken refuge in one of
the ruined houses thereabouts. Some of the pirates suggested searching
these before looking elsewhere, while others insisted that they had
overrun the pursuit, and advised going back at once. The whole band
were noisily discussing the pros and cons when Drake and Frobisher
darted past the end of the street; and, seeing the fugitives, the
pirates wheeled their horses and, with a savage whoop, started in
pursuit again.
One circumstance, however, gave the Englishmen a little advantage--
sufficient, indeed, as a matter of fact, to save their lives. While
talking, the horsemen were all bunched together in a little crowd, and
as it happened to be one of the men on the far side of the group who had
been the first to catch sight of the fugitives, he galloped his horse
right through the knot of his companions without a moment's hesitation
or warning, thus throwing the whole company into momentary confusion,
one man being unhorsed, while in another instance horse and rider went
down together. Before the remainder could extricate themselves from the
melde and make a fair start, Drake and Frobisher had obtained a full
fifty yards' lead; and by the time their pursuers had reached the main
street, the fugitives were more than half-way to the palace.
Once on the straight, however, the horsemen had the advantage, and
overhauled them so rapidly that when the Englishmen were still twenty
yards from the palace steps the foremost of the pirates were so close
behind that Frobisher knew they would be cut off unless something could
be done. He therefore gave a warning cry to Drake, and instantly darted
to one side; and as the first man dashed past, unable to rein up his
horse, the Navy man fired point-blank into the animal, bringing it and
its rider to the earth with a tremendous thud. Drake accounted for the
next two men in quick succession, while Frobisher dropped a fourth;
then, the others having reined up, the better to use their rifles, the
two men took to their heels again and reached the long and broad flight
of steps leading up to the palace entrance in the midst of a hail of
bullets, none of which, fortunately, took effect.
The pirates wasted no time in reloading, but came on again to the foot
of the steps. Here they were of course obliged to dismount, and some
handed over their horses to others of their number to hold, so that they
were only beginning to mount the steps as Drake and Frobisher reached
the top and darted in through the great doorway. Drake was by this time
dreadfully out of breath, and gaspingly protested that he had come to
the end of his tether; nevertheless he managed to muster sufficient
strength to jog along close behind his friend. At their last
hiding-place they had sought concealment aloft, but Frobisher decided
now to take refuge below, since the palace appeared to be the kind of
structure that would afford a better prospect of escape from the vaults
or cellars.
Accordingly the younger man kept his eyes open for a flight of steps
leading downward, and, as the pirates were close behind, darted down the
first that met his eyes. This was a narrow, winding, stone staircase
that led downward so far that they appeared to be reaching to the very
bowels of the earth; but the pair eventually came to the bottom, finding
themselves in a long, stone-flagged corridor, extending a considerable
distance, and very dimly lighted by small gratings which evidently
communicated with some chamber above.
They seemed to have come to the end of their tether at last, however,
for nowhere could they find an opening leading out of the corridor. And
already they could hear the pirates descending the stairs.
"Come, Drake!" whispered Frobisher; "we dare not remain here. Let's try
to the left; there may be a door concealed somewhere among the shadows.
I wish we had a little more light."
The other end of the passage was reached without a single exit being
discovered, and there was no time to run back and try farther in the
other direction.
"This is the end, I guess," said Drake, as the approaching footsteps
sounded nearer. "It's `backs against the wall and fight to the death'
for us now, my friend."
Suiting the action to the word, the little skipper grasped his cudgel by
the thinner end, took his revolver--with only one shot remaining--in his
other, and flung himself backward against the wall.
Then a curious thing happened. The solid wall at the end of the passage
yielded to the pressure of the skipper's body, and Drake, still leaning
against it, fell farther and farther backward, until at last he found
himself in a reclining position on the now sloping wall. Then, to
Frobisher's unbounded amazement, the little man disappeared from view, a
dull thud from below announcing the fact that he had dropped a distance
of several feet. In an instant the younger man realised what had
happened. The corridor had a purpose, after all; and the door at the
end was probably secured by a concealed spring of some sort which Drake
must have unwittingly pressed when he flung himself back against the
wall.
Without losing an instant Frobisher knelt down at the edge of the dark
opening, then turning, allowed himself to slip downward gradually, for
it was obvious that there were no steps; and as his feet touched bottom
he was barely in time to remove his fingers from the sill when the door
swung to above him with a muffled "click."
The pirates had not reached the foot of the stairs when the door closed,
so that, unless they knew or guessed at and found the secret of opening
it, the fugitives were safe from them, at any rate. But the thought
occurred to Frobisher when the door closed behind him: now that they
were in, how were they to get out again?
He called softly to Drake, and soon found that that worthy was much more
startled than hurt, although even yet hardly able to realise what had
happened to him. As soon as the little skipper had recovered his
faculties a little he listened, and hearing nothing of their pursuers,
struck a match, a box of which he had fortunately concealed in his robe,
and looked to see whether there was a spring inside the door. He failed
to find one, however, and he and Frobisher exchanged glances full of
apprehension. They seemed to have escaped a swift death for one of
lingering starvation.
But they had no time to spend in dismal forebodings. They could now
faintly hear the uproar above them in the passage as the pirates hunted
for the door by which their quarry had escaped, and crouched down
together, wondering whether their pursuers would hit upon the spring.
Minute after minute passed, however, and the door still remained closed;
and after about a quarter of an hour the pirates were heard to take
their departure, probably convinced that the fugitives had not gone down
the stairs, after all.
With a sigh of relief Frobisher turned to Drake and asked him to strike
another light, so that they might get some sort of notion where they
were. Drake did so; and the first thing the light revealed was a great
bundle of torches, evidently placed there in the bygone days for the use
of people whose business took them into this underground chamber. The
two men eagerly lighted one each, and then, taking a few more as a
stand-by, proceeded to explore.
The enormous chamber which the light revealed appeared to contain
nothing whatever; but there were several passages leading from it--seven
in all, as the explorers counted--and they tried the first they came to,
to ascertain where it led.
It extended for a distance of about a hundred feet, and then terminated;
nor did there appear to be any door, concealed or otherwise, at the end
of it. Two more passages were explored with the same result; but the
fourth, or middle passage of the seven, was different, in that, at the
end, they came to a massive iron door. Drake stretched out his hand and
made an attempt to twist the iron handle, but it would not budge. Again
he tried, and this time it seemed to move a little; and as it did so
Frobisher thought he caught a slight grinding, whirring sound, like
rusty machinery reluctantly moving.
What it was that prompted him to act he did not know, but suddenly
becoming possessed with a suspicion of that door and a sense of danger
in its vicinity, he dragged Drake quickly away from the handle, and
himself retreated a few steps.
It was well that he did so, for at that moment the grinding sounds
became quite perceptible, waxed louder, and then--like lightning from a
cloud, a row of curved swordblades shot out of slots in the stone-work
which the men had not previously noticed, and swept together for all the
world like a pair of calliper legs. Any person standing by the door
must have infallibly been stabbed through and through by that deadly
device. Then, just as suddenly, the blades sprang back into the wall
and the door swung back on its hinges, revealing another and smaller
chamber beyond.
"By all the Powers," gasped Drake, wiping the perspiration from his
forehead, "what a fiendish invention! Mr Frobisher, that's the second
time this night that you've saved my life. I shall not forget."
"Pshaw!" answered Frobisher; "what about the times you've saved mine?
But, Drake," he continued excitedly, "I've got an idea that we are on
the point of discovering something. The man who owned this palace must
have had something very well worth guarding, or he would never have
taken the trouble to instal such an elaborate arrangement as that to
destroy possible thieves, for that's what it was intended to do, without
a doubt. Let's get along and see what there is to see; but be careful,
for goodness' sake. There may be more of these man-traps about, and we
don't want to be left dead in this hole."
So saying, Frobisher stepped slowly and cautiously through the door-way,
holding his torch high above his head, and at once found himself in a
small, circular chamber, which was almost completely filled with
ironbound cases and chests of every description.
"Great Caesar's ghost!" almost shouted Frobisher to Drake, who was
standing just inside the door, with mouth wide open and torch almost
dropping out of his hand; "we have dropped right into somebody's
treasure-house, and no mistake. If those chests do not contain
valuables, my name is not Murray Frobisher. Bring your stick, and let
us see whether we can wrench off one of the locks. It should not be
very difficult, for the wood looks so rotten as almost to be crumbling
to powder."
No sooner said than done. Drake eagerly placed the end of his stout
cudgel under the hasp of the nearest of the boxes and, using it as a
lever, soon sent the iron flying, the nails drawing out of the soft,
"punky" wood as easily as though they had been set in putty. Next they
swung the lid back; and then--what a sight met their astounded eyes!