FRANK’S VISITOR.
He longed to question her more, longed to solve the mystery that
infolded the strange girl, but, well understanding the danger of
discovery by the Moors, he permitted her to lead the way along the
passage.
The stairs were reached, and Igela sprang up them as lightly as a fawn.
At the top of the stairs the heavy door was standing partly open. Beyond
that door they might come face to face with Ben Ahmet and Ali Mustaf.
Frank was not armed. He would have given almost anything for a revolver
at that moment. With such a weapon in his possession, he would have felt
able to cope with half a dozen Moors.
The door was reached, and they passed beyond it, leaving the horrors of
the underground dungeon behind.
Every nerve in Frank’s body was at a high tension, and he was ready for
anything they might encounter.
They came into a long, low room, the walls of which were bare and
whitewashed. The room was unfurnished and gloomy, with no opening
windows to admit light and air.
Igela led the way through this room and into a passage, where she paused
to listen, her hand trembling on Frank’s arm. He grasped her fingers,
and gave them a reassuring pressure.
Then they stole along the passage, making as little noise as possible.
Past a door that looked into an empty room they made their way, and, as
they came to a strong door, Igela made him put out the light.
In the darkness his arm stole around her, and she let him hold her thus
while she listened.
Being satisfied that all was well, she opened the door, and a rush of
air smote Frank in the face, telling him that the door opened to the
outside world.
How grateful that fresh air was to the boy who had been imprisoned in a
place that was close and dank! He drew it into his lungs with a keen
sense of delight, and he seemed to become himself once more—cool, nervy,
self-reliant.
But they were not yet on the street, as he quickly discovered. They were
in the court which he had once before crossed that night.
There was no moon, but the stars told that the night was well spent, and
morning approaching. Igela seemed to read the stars, for she whispered:
“We must hasten. You must be far from here when day comes.”
Across the court they hurried, passed through another door and another
passage, and came at last to a door that let them out upon the street.
They had seen no one—not even a sleeping servant. Fortunate, indeed, had
they been, and Frank felt that Providence had smiled on them.
“You are free,” whispered Igela, with something like a sob. “Go! We
shall never meet again. Leave Tangier without delay. Ben Ahmet has the
sultan’s favor, and the sultan is all powerful here. Go, Frank! May
Allah protect you! Farewell.”
He did not release her.
“I will not go like this!” came swiftly from his lips. “I must know the
truth—I must understand this mystery. Igela, lift that veil. The stars
are bright, and my eyes have become accustomed to darkness. I must see
your face. Lift your veil!”
She raised her hand to obey, and, at that moment, it seemed as if the
very heavens came crashing and thundering upon Frank’s head. He fell
prostrate upon the ground, where he lay like a creature death-stricken
by a thunderbolt!
How long he lay insensible in the street Frank never knew. When his
senses returned and he sat up, he saw an old water carrier staring
wild-eyed at him.
Frank spoke to the man, but the water carrier seemed frightened, and
hastened away, muttering prayers in the Berber tongue.
And now the terrible pain that had been in his throat was in his head.
He put up his hand, and it was red with blood when he took it away.
“I was struck down,” he muttered.
It was morning. In the East was a gray light that was spreading and
growing rosy. It was the blush of the newly risen day.
In a short time the boy gathered his scattered wits. He remembered all
that had happened—remembered that Igela had aided him to
escape—remembered that the heavens had seemed to crash upon his head
just as she was about to lift her veil.
And he had not seen her face! To him she remained a baffling mystery.
Who struck him down?
What had become of her?
Then came another question that puzzled him more than all.
Why had he not been slain?
He looked around. Near at hand was a small door set in the bare white
wall. It was firmly closed.
“We came out of there,” he told himself. “Some one must have been in
that nook near by. We were seen, and I was knocked over. Then she was
dragged back.”
The thought made him feel desperate. He longed to arise and batter down
the door, walk into the house, and save her from her persecutors.
“I am faint and weak and I can do nothing. I will mark this spot, so I
may find my way back to it.”
Then he arose and moved away with an uncertain step, having taken note
of the appearance of the door, so he felt sure he would recognize it if
he saw it again.
Tangier is not an easy city for a foreigner to find his way through, as
Frank discovered. He moved slowly, noting every peculiarity of the
narrow, crooked street.
Muffled figures passed him, gazing aslant at him from beneath beetling
brows. All seemed to wonder that a foreigner and a Christian should be
astir, wandering through the streets at that hour in the morning.
That was what Frank fancied at first, but he finally lifted his hand to
his throbbing head again, and he understood why they stared at him so
strangely.
He was hatless, and the blood from his wound had dripped down the side
of his face. He knew he must be an object to attract the curiosity of
any beholder.
He found the square, and then it was not difficult to make his way to
the hotel.
As Frank had expected, he found Professor Scotch and Ephraim nearly
distracted with fear and suspense. When they saw him their joy was
boundless.
It did not take the lad long to relate his adventures, having first
bathed the wound on his head, and bound it up with a cloth.
“Well, for genuine downright foolhardiness!” began the professor.
“You should remember that I was in the company of Azza, your trusted
servant,” said Frank, smiling grimly.
“Hang that rascal! If I ever get hold of him— Well, he will wish I
hadn’t! He ought to be horse-whipped!”
“He’d oughter be shot!” cried Ephraim.
“Well, I scarcely fancy we shall see him again while we remain in
Tangier,” said Frank, quietly. “That does not worry me nearly so much as
the mystery that surrounds the Pearl of Tangier. If I do not find a way
to solve that mystery I shall regret it all my life. She must be saved
from those miserable old Moors.”
“It is easy to say that, my boy; but how are we to save her?”
“You must lay the case before the United States Consul, professor.”
“What good would that do? He would have no right to interfere between a
girl and her uncle, who is her lawful guardian. It is not possible for
us to help her now.”
“That’s pleasant! But you do not know, professor.”
“I know that we are going to get out of this city as soon as possible.
You will be killed if we remain here much longer.”
“Professor, in the United States you are my guardian, but we are in a
heathen country now, and I refuse to be dragged away till I am sure I
have done everything in my power to aid that unfortunate girl.”
“Are you in love with her?”
“No; but my manhood has been appealed to, and I feel that it is my duty
to save her, if I can.”
“Yeou may not be in love with her,” drawled Ephraim; “but, by thutter!
she’s smashed on yeou.”
“There is something remarkable about that,” said Frank. “The girl seems
to know me, and she speaks as if there had been something between us in
the past. That seems impossible, for I have no recollection of her, and
she appears to be a devout little Mohammedan. Is this not mystery enough
to pique the curiosity of anybody?”
“Your curiosity may cost you your life.”
“Oh, you are a croaker, professor. Besides my curiosity to know more
about the girl, I want to get even with Ali Mustaf and Ben Ahmet, as I
swore I would when I was a captive in that underground dungeon.”
Professor Scotch made a gesture of despair.
“Wait till I get you back to the United States!” he cried. “I’ll throw
up my job as your guardian quicker than a wink.”
The professor found it useless to argue with the boy, and he gave it up.
Frank remembered what Igela had said about Bab-el-Maroc, and he sought
to know what she meant. He found out that there was a gate of the city
of Fez by that name, and also a castle so called.
The castle belonged to Ben Ahmet, and was situated outside of Fez.
Igela had spoken of Frank’s escape from Bab-el-Maroc, but the boy had
never been there, which made the mystery all the deeper.
Having eaten breakfast, and rested through much of the forenoon, Frank
accompanied the professor on a visit to Mr. Adams, the United States
Consul.
The houses occupied by the members of the foreign legations were
situated near the square. They were all very modest little buildings,
but they had the appearance of palaces in the midst of the paltry
dwellings by which they were surrounded.
Mr. Adams received the professor pleasantly, and shook hands with Frank,
saying:
“It really does one good to look into the face of a lively, wide-awake
American youth.”
Seated in the cozy little parlor, Frank related the story of his
adventures since entering Tangier.
Mr. Adams listened with interest which grew to wonder and astonishment.
By the time Frank had finished the man was breathless. “My boy, my boy!”
he exclaimed, “you are indeed fortunate to be alive! Ben Ahmet is rich
and powerful, and has the favor of the sultan. If he had murdered you,
you never would have been heard of again, and all efforts to trace you
would have been baffled. You are only a ‘Christian dog,’ and your life
is of little consequence in this miserable land.”
“But the girl,” cried Frank; “can nothing be done to save her from old
Ali Mustaf, whom she loathes?”
“I fear not. It is in the power of Ben Ahmet to make her marry whoever
he may choose, and Ali Mustaf will get her, if Ben Ahmet wills it so.”
Such a thing was terrible for the boy to contemplate, and it did not
seem possible that there was no law to prevent it. It was almost
impossible for Frank to realize that he was in a land where might ruled
with a heavy, blood-stained hand, and where the innocent and helpless
cried out in vain for mercy and justice.
“I do not propose to give up,” declared Frank, resolutely. “Fortune has
smiled on me many times, and it may smile again. It is not very far
across the straits to Spain. In Spain we could defy Ben Ahmet and Ali
Mustaf to drag Igela back to Morocco.”
“But what could you do with her if you succeeded in getting her out of
the country? She is a Moorish maiden, and it is scarcely probable that
you want to marry her.”
“I would not permit it if he did!” roared Scotch.
“I am not contemplating matrimony just at present,” smiled Frank. “But I
am determined to solve this mystery, and I will succeed.”
Mr. Adams shook his head gravely.
“You are rash and headstrong,” he said. “Take my advice and let the
Pearl of Tangier alone.”
He refused to aid Frank in any way, but was courteous and polite. When
Frank and the professor left the house and started to return to the
hotel the boy’s heart felt like lead in his bosom.
Shortly after the hotel was reached Ephraim Gallup came rushing into
their room, caught hold of Frank excitedly, and spluttered.
“Gol derned ef yeou hain’t lost her naow!”
“What do you mean?” demanded the other boy.
“She’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Igela.”
“Gone where?”
“Flew the coop—left the city.”
“How do you know?”
“Saw um go.”
“Saw them? Whom?”
“Igela, Ali Mustaf, Ben Ahmet and a gang of black-skinned fellers, all
armed to the teeth. They rode away after a caravan. I was jest ramblin’
araound, an’ I got outside the city, so that’s haow I happened to see um
go.”
“Are you sure it was Igela?”
“Yep. She saw me.”
“She did?”
“Yep. So did Ben Ahmet. By thutteration! it’s a mighty good thing I’ve
got long laigs. Ef I hedn’t I wouldn’t be here naow. Old Ben sot three
uv them black fellers arter me, an’ yeou’d oughter seen me tear up the
dust an’ git aout uv that. They chased me a piece, yellin’ like mad, but
I got erway, an’ here I be.”
Frank took a quick turn up and down the room.
“So they have dragged Igela away!” he muttered. “Without doubt, they are
bound for Fez and the castle of Bab-el-Maroc. I shall follow.”
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