Madame de Guéran led Dr. Desrioux to the side of the wounded man. He
knelt down on the grass, and looked fixedly for a long time at the
man he was called upon to restore to life. The lover had vanished,
and the man of science reappeared on the scene.
By the time he had risen, all the Europeans had come up and formed a
single group. He drew Dr. Delange aside and was about to converse
with him in an undertone, when Madame de Guéran stopped him and said—
"I wish to know the truth. Speak; I am strong enough to hear anything
you may have to say."
"I have nothing to conceal from you," replied M. Desrioux. "I merely
wished to ascertain whether my colleague was of the same opinion as
myself, and to ask his permission to speak."
"Say on, my dear fellow, and do not be afraid of treading on my
professional toes," said M. Delange. "I have, unfortunately for
myself, and," he added, with a smile, "very possibly for others also,
been a kind of amateur doctor, whilst you have devoted all your care,
all your time, and all your intelligence to your profession. I look
upon you as a master rather than a colleague."
M. Desrioux bowed, without speaking.
"Moreover," continued Dr. Delange, "I only acted for you amongst your
friends and with this caravan. You have turned up, and even, if I did
not give way before your talent and your high position, I should
yield to your right."
"I thank you for all the kind things you have said about me," replied
M. Desrioux. "But above all do I thank you for allowing me to attend
upon M. de Guéran in conjunction with you. I have just examined his
wounds, and I feel myself in a position to say that not one of them
is serious. I would even add that they could be quickly cured, if the
Baron were in his ordinary state of health. But before he was wounded
he must have been ill for a long time, and very much pulled down; you
can see that as well as I can. Recent occurrences have augmented his
fever to an alarming extent; we must devote all our energies to
reducing it, for it is heating his blood and will prevent the curing
of his wounds. I only know one efficacious remedy, and that is,
change of air."
"I agree with you," said Dr. Delange. "But how are we to remove M. de
Guéran with the necessary speed to a more salubrious country than
this, and to a fresh climate?"
"Nothing is easier," replied M. Desrioux. "I have opened up for you a
road to the mountains. Let us all set out to-day, and to-morrow, on
the lofty summits, thanks to the sudden change, the fever will be
subdued, and we shall no longer have occasion to fear the brain
affection which at this moment gives rise to serious alarm."
"Let us start, by all means, and as soon as possible. We have no
possible inducement to remain here in the midst of all these corpses,
too numerous for us to think of burying them. The air we are
breathing on the plain will be deadly in a few hours."
"And you may as well add," said M. Périères chiming in, "that we may
be attacked again from one moment to another. The amazons, when they
recover from their first surprise, will re-form and march against us
for the purpose of rescuing their Queen. I insist, also, on our
immediate departure. What do you say, de Morin?"
"Certainly. This spot is both unhealthy and depressing, for we are
not only surrounded by the corpses of our enemies, but more than one
faithful follower lies dead beside us. I counted our loss in killed
whilst Delange was attending to the wounded, and I find that we have
lost thirty of our bearers, fifteen Nubian and Dinka soldiers, and
about twenty of the Monbuttoos whom we had armed. I am as anxious as
you are to get away at once from this accursed plain. But can we
start at once? Our cattle have been killed and our provisions
scattered far and wide. Ought we, denuded of all our resources as we
are, to venture in such numbers up that mountain?"
"Provisions for a few days will suffice," replied M. Desrioux, "and I
think we might at once collect what we have and divide them amongst
our men. Just look at my escort; they have soon found a grazing
ground in the midst of your camp, and they are making up, at your
expense, for the privations they have suffered for some days past. As
for the cattle, their loss is not to be regretted, seeing that we
could not have taken them with us up the mountain. Besides, in ten or
twelve days, we shall have reached Lake Albert, and on its western
shore we shall find the caravan we left there with a sufficiently
large quantity of provisions."
"I will also take the liberty of remarking in my turn," said M. de
Pommerelle, "that if we do not start at once so as to reach Lake
Albert on or before the 25th of December, the said caravan, which is
not under any obligation to wait for us beyond a month, will have
taken the road again with all our baggage and our most precious
treasures."
"Very well," said M. de Morin. "That settles the question of
provisions. But we have some duties to perform before we can think of
starting—to bury our dead, for instance."
"Nassar, by my orders," said M. Périères, "is seeing to that. The
Nubians will have a grave; indeed, it is already being dug."
"And Munza?" asked M. de Morin. "He died for us, or, at all events,
in our cause."
"He is already buried," said M. Périères, and his tomb is worthy of
his rank. The rock crushed his body in its fall and buried it in the
ground. Instead of a tombstone, a mountain will mark the spot where
rest his remains."
"But," urged de Morin once more, "what about his army? Have we any
right to leave them to their fate?"
"Have we any more right," replied M. Périères, "to drag that horde of
barbarians and cannibals into another part of Africa, into regions
which enjoy, at any rate, the appearance of civilization? Moreover,
my dear fellow, the Monbuttoos have but one idea—that of returning as
quickly as possible to their own country. They would refuse to go any
farther with us."
"That is possible; but when we are no longer by to assist them, they
will be massacred by the Walindis."
"Or the Walindis by them," replied M. Périères. "Make use of your
telescope. The whole army, which took to flight on the death of
Munza, has, during the past hour, recovered its original formation,
not to join us, not to defend us, but to destroy the villages, burn
the huts, pursue the vanquished amazons, kill them, and, if you do
not object to my saying so, undoubtedly eat them. Have we not already
seen that little operation performed in the case of the Domondoos? I
have no sympathy whatever, my dear fellow, with these people, and I
cannot help saying that you, as a rule so full of common sense, are
to-day raising objections to our departure which are absurd."
M. de Morin did not reply; but, leaning over to M. Périères, he said
in a whisper—
"How can I be reasonable on such a day as this? Within twenty-four
hours to stumble across a husband and a rival!"
"Do not make yourself out to be worse than you really are," replied
M. Périères in the same tone. "The husband owes his deliverance to
you alone, and you are only regretting that he has been restored to
us in so deplorable a state. As regards Desrioux, do you bear him any
ill-will for having saved our lives and opened up for us a road to
Europe? If it had not been for him, my dear fellow, we should at this
moment be either lying dead on the ground, or, what would not be much
better, prisoners of Walinda."
"Wait a bit," said Delange, coming up. "I have no objection to being
taken prisoner by her. Where is the sweet creature?"
"There she is," replied Périères, pointing to the Queen, who was
still lying at full length on the grass.
"And what are we to do with her if we start to-day? Shall we let her
go?"
"No, a thousand times no!" exclaimed de Morin. "We should be guilty
of the gravest imprudence by doing anything of the sort. If she were
restored to freedom she would lose no time in collecting together the
scattered remnants of her army and would attack us afresh. Cannot you
see how ferociously she looks at us?"
"I see," replied Delange, "that she is a splendid creature, quite
worthy of the name I gave her, and the interest I take in her."
M. Périères, without paying the slightest attention to the words of
the too susceptible Delange, said to M. de Morin—
"How can she attack us if we start to-day? She would not follow us up
the mountain."
"Why not?"
"What road would she take?"
"The same that we are going to take," replied de Morin. "Up this rock
suspended in mid-air. If we can scale it, encumbered with our
baggage, our provisions, and our wounded, will the amazons, whose
activity you have had every opportunity of remarking, find any
difficulty in following us?"
"Upon my word," replied M. Périères. "You are decidedly off your head
to-day; the most simple things escape you. As soon as ever our
caravan reaches the plateau whence Desrioux first burst upon our
gaze, all the men can insert their lances, after the fashion of
levers, underneath the rock, which is simply leaning against the
cliff. One good heave all together will suffice to overturn it; its
base will roll over on to the plain just as its summit has already
done, and the road to the mountain will once more be closed against
the natives of these parts."
"You are right," said de Morin. "Our retreat is safe enough. I can
only now plead the cause of the Monbuttoos. They are savages of the
worst description, and cannibals to boot. I admit all that. But we
ought to be all the more grateful to them for having neither molested
nor eaten us. We cannot, therefore, under the pretext that Walinda
will not be able to fight us, leave our ancient allies exposed to so
dangerous an enemy."
"But how are we to get rid of her?" persisted M. Périères. "Do you
intend to have her shot?"
"She certainly deserves it, and the idea has crossed my mind, but I
lacked courage to give the order. If you like to take the
responsibility—"
"Never. And you, Delange?"
"Not if I know it! She is far too pretty. All my anger fades away
before her beauty. Why not take her with us? We can set her at
liberty in eight or ten days, as by that time the Monbuttoos will
have left the country. She is quite sharp enough, believe me, to
discover the way back to her kingdom by herself."
"Yes," replied de Morin, "that is the only course open to us; we have
no choice. But she is a very dangerous prisoner, and we must not let
her out of our sight for a moment."
"I will take care of that," replied Delange, quickly.
"I thought we should come to that," replied M. de Morin, laughing.
"Only—take care of Miss Poles! You are reinstated in her good graces;
are you going to forfeit them once more?"
"My dear fellow," said Delange, "do not be alarmed. As soon as the
new caravan appeared on the scene I was laid on the shelf. Just watch
the look she bestows on Pommerelle, and observe the elaborate toilet
she has made in his honour."
"For goodness sake, gentlemen, let us arrange about starting," said
Dr. Desrioux, joining his three friends. "It is already three o'clock
in the afternoon, and in the common interest we ought, this very
night, to pitch our tent some twenty feet above this place."