STOLBURST’S VISITOR.
Burt Cromwell had a good deal of hesitation about taking charge of
Stolburst’s affair. He bluntly asked the lecturer if he could furnish
references. This caused the latter displeasure. Burt cared nothing
for that.
“Do you know the firm of Fremont & Cole?” Stolburst asked.
“The bankers?”
“Yes.”
“I am well acquainted there, having done business for the firm.”
“I refer you to them,” said Stolburst, rather stiffly.
“I’ll see them in the morning.”
“It seems to me,” said the explorer, “that you conduct your business
on a highly moral and independent plane.”
“That is because I want to live up to my reputation of being an
honest man.”
“We won’t quarrel. What are your terms, my dear sir?”
Burt named them. The terms must have suited, for Stolburst agreed to
them without haggling. Then he took his leave.
The explorer had a small suite of rooms in a leading hotel. That
evening he received a visitor there who was entirely unexpected. It
was Zulima, who had never before called upon him.
The girl’s eyes were red from weeping, and her whole appearance
dejected.
“My dear,” said the explorer kindly, as he conducted his visitor to
a chair, “what has happened? You seem unwell.”
She turned her great sorrowful eyes upon him, but did not reply.
“Why don’t you speak?” asked Stolburst, after a pause.
“You have seen Ajeeb?”
“Yes.”
“So have I,” said Zulima. “Do you know who is with him?”
“Not I.”
“Ashah has also come.”
“What difference can that make to me?” asked Stolburst.
He had grown quite nervous under the girl’s inquiring and steady look.
“You know Ashah never goes afar unless--to kill.”
The last word seemed to tremble upon Zulima’s lips.
“Even so.”
“Do you not fear Ashah, the bloody-handed servant of Jobu?”
“Not I.”
“I have felt for you an affection never given to a fellow creature
before.”
“My dear girl,” said the explorer, “what are you striving to get at?”
Zulima paid no attention to the interruption.
“Better than any living creature,” she said, “I love the god of my
fathers. To me devotion to the great Jobu means happiness in a future
life. Now he is angry with my people.”
“Why?”
“Because the stranger was allowed to desecrate him. Do you not
tremble?”
Zulima spoke in an impassioned manner throughout. Now she burst into
tears.
“My dear,” said Stolburst, “Ajeeb accused me of stealing the famous
green diamond that formed the idol’s eye.”
“Ajeeb is wise, and does not speak idle words.”
“Do you then think I am a thief?”
“Were I sure of that,” said the girl, “I would not be here.”
“How is that?”
“I was to send for you.”
“I see,” exclaimed Stolburst, in mingled anger and surprise; “your
uncle has turned you against me.”
“I only owe you protection; if your services have a price, name it,
and I shall pay.”
Zulima took a rather heavy purse from her pocket. Stolburst insisted
upon her putting up the money, and she complied.
“Tell me,” said the dark-skinned princess, “did you steal the Eye of
Jobu?”
Her look seemed to her companion to pierce him through and through.
“No.”
The explorer spoke with all the firmness he could command. There
was an undefinable something about the girl that seemed to daze his
faculties.
Was she a mesmerist?
The thought more than once suggested itself to him. He had never
experienced a like feeling when in her presence before.
“Did you carry away the diamond?”
Now Zulima looked even more fixedly at her companion. Again he
replied in the negative.
“It was because I had a very slight doubt of your innocence that I
came here,” remarked Zulima.
“I am innocent.”
“False friend,” said the princess, and she trembled with emotion. “I
have read your heart.”
Henry Stolburst gave a great start.
“What have you read?”
“That you lie to me!” exclaimed Zulima, rising from her chair and
drawing herself up to her full height.
The blood mounted to the roots of the explorer’s hair.
“This from you?” he angrily cried.
“Yes; I can no longer bear friendship for one who has so deeply
injured my people.”
“Nonsense. Haven’t I told you I did not steal the diamond?”
“Yes; but your tongue spoke that which is false. Would that I could
forget I ever knew you. If you would live, return that which you
stole.”
“I tell you I did not steal the eye of the idol.”
“Then you obtained it from the thief,” she retorted.
“Zulima,” said Stolburst tenderly. “I love you as I might a daughter;
do not let this foolish matter break our friendship.”
“I cannot forget my faith.”
Stolburst saw that Ajeeb had, by working on the girl’s fear of the
heathen god, completely won her.
“Ajeeb means to kill me?”
“You know how to save yourself,” said Zulima coldly.
“But I cannot comply with his wishes,” answered Stolburst.
“Then you must die.”
The man laughed, but his laugh was hollow and forced.
“Ajeeb seems to forget,” he said, “that he is in a civilized country.
Here there are hundreds and hundreds of men to protect me. What is he
and that demon Ashah against so many?”
“The priests of Jobu will prevail,” said the girl.
Stolburst trembled. Her words filled him with dread, for they seemed
prophetic.
“I go,” added Zulima, “and I never want to see you again.”
She moved majestically from the apartment.
Stolburst thought of leaving the country. He dismissed the idea
immediately after it was conceived. No matter where he went, he
believed the Abyssinians would discover him. He was too well known a
character both in Europe and America to long conceal his movements
from being chronicled in the newspapers.
Ajeeb, he knew, was highly educated both in English and French.
Moreover, the fellow had passed some years in Europe, and had even
paid a long visit to New York, previous to the opening of this story.
This last fact was unknown to Stolburst. More than anything else,
almost, the explorer regretted the stand taken by the princess.
Zulima left the hotel with a very heavy heart. She had hoped if
Stolburst had the diamond he would give it up. The girl felt sure he
had stolen the Eye of Jobu. Why did he not return the gem?
That puzzled Zulima.
Stolburst had lived long enough among her people to know that no
effort would be spared to secure a return of the diamond. Surely he
could not value the stone more than life.
Despite her present attitude, the princess had great affection for
the man. He had aided her escape from the semibondage in which she
was born, and had acted as a father to her. She would willingly
sacrifice all to her affection, except her idolatrous belief.
Zulima had not proceeded far when a heavy hand was laid upon her
shoulder. She was about to scream, when she heard a familiar voice
say in her own language:
“Make no outcry.”
“Ashah!”
Zulima found herself confronted by a gigantic member of her race.
“I follow you, princess,” he said, and his voice was hard and stern.
“I know that.”
“It was the bidding of Ajeeb.”
“Are you sufficiently acquainted with the streets to travel the city
alone?”
The giant smiled.
“I have followed men over the trackless desert. Why should I get lost
in the city? I know enough English to make myself understood.”
“By what right did you follow me?” asked Zulima.
“I but obeyed Ajeeb,” replied the giant; “you disobeyed him.”
“How?”
“He ordered you to have this American visit you.”
“Well?”
“Instead of obeying the command you went to the man and told him he
was in danger,” answered Ashah.
“Ajeeb had already threatened him,” retorted the princess.
“That is his right as our high priest. You would save the American.”
“Yes.”
“So thought Ajeeb and myself, but you are helpless.”
“I would only ask to save him if he returned the Eye of Jobu.”
“Ajeeb offered him his life on the same terms,” said Ashah.
“Yes, and he denied having stolen the sacred gem.”
“True, but you love this mortal more than you reverence Jobu.”
“It is a lie.”
“Then why did you visit him when he is under the ban?”
“I have already told you the object of my visit,” replied Zulima.
“Did he steal the gem, think you?”
“Yes.”
“Does he deserve death?”
“Yes.”
Ashah smiled grimly.
“Your heart is true to your people,” he said, “even if your fancies
led you away from them. This man shall be tortured into giving up the
sacred emblem.”