THE JOY OF TEMPTATION
The revolting details were kept from the women. They were not permitted
to know of the ugly thing that sweltered in the dark corridor below
their very feet. Late in the night, a small body of men, acting under
orders, carried the unfortunate guard down into the valley and buried
him. Only the most positive stand on the part of the white men prevented
the massacre of the prisoners by the friends and fellow-servants of the
murdered man. A secret trial by jury, at a later day, was promised by
Lord Deppingham.
There was but little sleep in the château that night. The charity ball
was forgotten--or if recalled at all, only in connection with the
thought of what it came so near to costing its promoters.
No further disturbances occurred. A strict watch was preserved; the
picturesque drawbridge was lifted and there were lights on the terrace
and galleries; men slept within easy reach of their weapons. The siege
had begun in earnest. Men had been slain and their blood was crying out
for vengeance; the voice of justice was lost in the clamourings of rage.
Breakfast found no laggards; the lazy comforts of the habitually late
were abandoned for the more stirring interests that had come to occupy
the time and thoughts of all concerned. The Princess was quite serene.
She lightly announced that the present state of affairs was no worse
than that which she was accustomed to at home. The court of
Rapp-Thorberg was ever in a state of unrest, despite its outward
suggestion of security. Outbreaks were common among the masses; somehow,
they were suppressed before they grew large enough to be noticed by the
wide world.
"We invariably come out on top," she philosophised, "and so shall we
here. At home we always eat, drink and make merry, for to-morrow never
comes."
"That's all very nice," said Lady Agnes plaintively, "but I'm thinking
of yesterday. Those fellows who were killed can't die to-morrow, you
know; it occurred to them yesterday. It's always yesterday after one
dies."
Soon after breakfast was over, Chase announced his intention to visit
each of the gates in turn. The Princess strolled with him as far as the
bridge at the foot of the terrace. They stopped in the shade of a clump
of trees that hung upon the edge of the stream. As they were gravely
discussing the events of the night, Neenah came up to them from beyond
the bridge. Her dark, brilliant face was glowing with excitement; the
cheerful adoration that one sees in a dog's eyes shone in hers as she
salaamed gracefully to the "Sahib." She had no eyes for royalty.
"Excellency," she began breathlessly, "it is Selim who would have
private speech with the most gracious sahib. It is to be quick,
excellency. Selim is under the ground, excellency."
"In the cellars?"
"Yes, excellency. It is so dark there that one cannot see, but Neenah
will lead you. Selim has sent me. But come now!"
Chase felt his ears burn when he turned to find a delicate, significant
smile on Genevra's lips. "Don't let me detain you," she said, ever so
politely.
"Wait, please!" he exclaimed. "Is Selim hurt?" he demanded of Neenah,
who shook her head vigorously.
"Then, there is no reason why you should not accompany us. Princess."
"I am not at all necessary to the undertaking," she said coldly, turning
to leave him.
"Selim has found fuses and gunpowder laid in the cellars, excellency--in
the secret vaults," began Neenah eagerly, divining the cause of the
white lady's hesitation.
This astounding piece of news swept away the feeble barrier Genevra
would have erected in her pique. Eagerly she joined in questioning the
Persian girl, but Neenah would only reply that Selim was waiting for the
sahib. The Princess was immeasurably consoled to find that the
body-servant had destroyed the fuses and that they were in no immediate
danger of being blown to pieces. She consented to accompany Chase into
the cellars, a spirit of adventure overcoming certain scruples which
might have restrained her under other conditions.
Neenah led them through the wine cellars and down into the vaults beyond
the dungeons. They descended three steep flights of stone steps, into
the cold, damp corridors of the lowermost cellars. Neenah explained that
it was necessary to move cautiously and without lights. Selim was
confident that there was at least one traitor among the servants. The
Princess clutched Chase's hand tightly as they stole through the bleak,
chill corridor; she found herself wondering if the girl was to be
trusted. What if she were leading them into a trap? She would have
whispered her fears into Chase's ear had not a sharp "sh!" come from the
girl who was leading. Genevra felt a queer little throb of hatred for
the girl--she could not explain it.
The dungeon was off to the right. They could hear the insistent murmur
of voices, with now and then a laugh from the distant cells. The guard
could be heard scoffing at his charges. With a caution that seemed
wholly absurd to the two white people, Neenah guided them through the
maze of narrow passages, dark as Erebus and chill as the grave. Chase
checked a hysterical impulse to laugh aloud at the proceedings; it was
like playing at a children's game.
He was walking between the two women, Neenah ahead, Genevra behind; each
clasped one of his hands. Suddenly he found himself experiencing an
overpowering desire to exert the strength of his arm to draw the
Princess close--close to his insistent body. The touch of her flesh, the
clutch of her cold little hand, filled him with the most exquisite sense
of possession; the magnetism of life charged from one to the other,
striking fire to the blood; sex tingled in this delicious riot of the
senses; all went to inspire and encourage the reckless joy that was
mastering him. He felt his arm grow taut with the irresistible impulse.
He was forgetting Neenah, forgetting himself--thinking only of the
opportunity and its fascination. In another instant he would have drawn
her hand to his lips: Neenah came to a standstill and uttered a warning
whisper. Chase recovered himself with a mighty start, a chill as of one
avoiding an unseen peril sweeping over him. Genevra heard the sharp,
painful intake of his breath and felt the sudden relaxation of his
fingers. She was not puzzled; she, too, had felt the magic of the touch
and her blood was surging red; she knew, then, that she had been
clasping his hand with a fervour that was as unmistakable as it was
shameless.
She was again forgetting that princesses should dwell in the narrow
realm of self.
Neenah may have felt the magnetic current that coursed through these
surcharged creatures: she was smiling mysteriously to herself.
"Wait here," she whispered to Chase, ever so softly. She released his
hand and moved off in the blackness of the passage. "I will bring
Selim," came back to them.
"Oh!" fell faintly, tremulously from Genevra's lips. It was a trap,
after all! But it was not the trap laid by a traitor. She fell all
a-quiver. Her heart fluttered violently, her breath came quickly. Alone
with him--and their blood leaping to the touch that thrilled!
Chase could no more have restrained the hand that went out suddenly in
quest of hers than he could have checked his own heart throbs. A wave of
exquisite joy swept over him--the joy of a temptation that knew no fear
or conscience. He found her cold little hand and clasped it in tense
fingers--fingers that throbbed with the call to passion. He drew her
close--their bodies touched and sweetly trembled. His lips were close to
her ear--the smell of her hair was in his quivering nostrils. He heard
her quick, sharp breathing.
"Are you afraid?" he whispered in tones he had never heard before.
"Yes," she murmured convulsively--"of you! Please, please, don't!" At
the same time, she tightened her clutch upon his hand and crept closer
to him, governed by an unconquerable craving. Chase had the sensation of
smothering; he could not believe the senses which told him that she was
responding to his appeal. His brain was whirling, his heart bounding
like mad. Her voice, soft and appealing, turned his blood to fire.
"Genevra!" he murmured--almost gasped--in his delirium. Their bodies
were pressed close to each other--his arms went about her slender figure
suddenly and she was strained to his breast, locked to him with bonds
that seemed unbreakable. Her face was lifted to his. The blackness of
the passage was impenetrable, but love was the guide. He found her lips
in one wild, glorious kiss.
A door creaked sharply. He released her. Their quivering arms fell away;
they drew ever so slightly apart, still under the control of the
influence which had held them for that brief moment. She was trembling
violently. A soft, wailing sigh, as of pain, came from her lips.
Then the glimmer of a light came to them through the half open door at
the end of the passage. They gazed at it without comprehension, dumb in
their sudden weakness. A shadowy figure came out through the door and
Selim's voice, low and tense, called to them.
Still speechless, they moved forward involuntarily. He did not attempt
to take her hand. He was afraid--vastly afraid of what he had done,
unaccountable as it may seem. That piteous sigh wrought shame in his
heart. He felt that he had wronged her--had seized upon a willing,
hapless victim when she had not the power to defend herself against her
own impulses.
"Forgive me," he murmured.
"It is too late," she replied. Then his hand sought hers again and,
dizzy with emotion, he led her up to the open door. As they passed into
the huge, dimly lighted chamber, he turned to look into her face. She
met his gaze and there were tears in her eyes. Selim was ahead of them.
She shook her head sadly and he understood.
"Can we ever forget?" she murmured plaintively.
"Never!" he whispered.
"Then we shall always regret--always regret!" she said, withdrawing her
hand. "It was the beginning and the end."
"Not the end, dearest one--if we are always to regret," he interposed
eagerly. "But why the end? You _do_ love me! I know it! And I worship
you--oh, you don't know how I worship you, Genevra! I--"
"Hush! We were fools! Don't, please! I do _not_ love you. I was carried
away by--Oh, can't you understand? Remember what I am! You knew and yet
have degraded me in my own eyes. Is my own self-respect nothing? You
will laugh and you may boast after I am married to--"
"Genevra!" he protested as if in great pain.
"Excellency," came from the lips of Selim, at the lower end of the
chamber, breaking in sharply upon their little world. "There is no time
to be lost." Time to be lost! And he had held her in his arms! Time to
be lost! All the rest of Time was to be lost! "They may return at any
moment."
Chase pulled himself together. He looked into her eyes for a moment,
finding nothing there but a command to go. She stood straight and
unyielding on the very spot which had seen her trembling with emotion
but a moment before.
"Coming, Selim," he said, and moved away from her side as Neenah came
toward them from the opposite wall. Genevra did not move. She stood
quite still and numb, watching his tall figure crossing the stone floor.
Ah, what a man he was! The little Persian wife of Selim, after waiting
for a full minute, gently touched the arm of the Princess. Genevra
started and looked down into the dark, accusing, smiling eyes. She
flushed deeply and hated herself.
"Shall we go back?" she asked nervously. "I--I have seen enough. Come,
Neenah. Lead me back to--"
"Most glorious excellency," said Neenah, shaking her pretty head, "we
are to wait here. The sahib and Selim will join us soon."
"Where are they going?" demanded the Princess, a feeling of awe coming
over her. "I don't want to be left here alone." Chase and Selim had
opened a low, heavy iron door at the lower end and were peering into the
darkness beyond.
"Selim will explain. He has learned much. It is the secret passage to
the coast. Be not afraid."
Genevra looked about her for the first time. They were standing in a
long, low room, the walls of which reeked with dampness and gave out a
noxious odour. A single electric light provided a faint, almost
unnatural light. Selim raised a lighted lantern as he led Chase through
the squat door. Behind Genevra were enormous casks, a dozen or more,
reaching almost to the ceiling. A number of boxes stood close by, while
on the opposite side of the chamber four small iron chests were to be
seen, dragged out from recesses in the distant corner. It was not unlike
the mysterious treasure cave of the pirates that her brother had
stealthily read about to her in childhood days. Observing her look of
wonder, Neenah vouchsafed a casual explanation.
"It is the wine cellar and the storeroom. The iron chests contain the
silver and gold plate that came from the great Rajah of Murpat in
exchange for the five huge rubies which now adorn his crown. The Rajah
bartered his entire service of gold and silver for those wonderful gems.
The old sahibs stored the chests here many years ago. But few know of
their existence. See! They were hidden in the walls over there. Von
Blitz has found them."
"Von Blitz!" in amazement.
"He has been here. He has carried away many chests. There were twenty in
all."
"And--and he will return for these?" queried the Princess in alarm.
"Assuredly, most glorious one. Soon, perhaps. But be not afraid. Selim
can close the passage door. He cannot get in. He will be fooled, eh? Why
should you be afraid? Have you not with you the most wonderful, the most
brave sahib? Would he not give his life for you?" The dark eyes sparkled
with understanding--aye, even mischief. Genevra felt that this Oriental
witch knew everything. For a long time she looked in uncertain mood upon
that smiling, wistful face. Then she said softly, moved by an
irresistible impulse to confess something, even obscurely:
"Oh, if only I were such as you, Neenah, and could live forever on this
dear island!"
Neenah's smile deepened, her eyes glowed with discernment. With a
meaning gleam in their depths, she said: "But, most high, there are no
princes here. There is no one to whom the most gracious one could be
sold. No one who could pay more than a dozen rubies. Women are cheap
here, and you would be a woman, not a most beautiful princess."
"I would not care to be a princess, perhaps."
"You love my Sahib Chase?" demanded Neenah abruptly, eagerly.
"Neenah!" gasped Genevra, with a startled look. Neenah looked intently
into the unsteady, blue-grey eyes and then bent over to kiss the hand of
the Princess. The latter laughed almost aloud in her confusion. She
caught herself up quickly and said with some asperity: "You foolish
child, I am to become a prince's wife. How can I love your sahib? What
nonsense! I am to marry a prince and he is not to pay for me in rubies."
"Ah, how wonderful!" cried Neenah, with ravishing candour. "A prince for
a husband and the glorious Sahib Chase for a lover all your life! Ah!"
The exclamation was no less than a sigh of rapturous endorsement.
The Princess stared at her first in consternation, then in dismay.
Before she could find words to combat this alarming prophecy, so
ingenuously presented to her reflections, Selim and Hollingsworth Chase
returned to the chamber. She was distressed, even confounded, to find
that she was staring at Chase with a strange, abashed curiosity growing
in her eyes--a stare that she suddenly was afraid he might observe and
appreciate. A wave of revulsion, of shame, spread over her whole being.
She shuddered slightly as she turned her face away from his eager gaze:
it was as if she recognised the fear that he was even now contemplating
the future as Neenah had painted it for her.
She caught and checked a horrid arraignment of herself. Such conditions
as Neenah presented were not unknown to her. With the swiftness of
lightning, she recalled the things that had been said of more than one
grand dame in Europe--aye, of women at her own court. Even a princess
she had known who--but for shame! she cried in her heart. It could not
be! Despite herself, a cruel, distressing shyness came over her as he
approached, his eyes glowing with the light she feared yet craved. Was
this man to remain in her life? _Was he?_ Would he come to her and wage
the unfair war? Was he honest? Was he even now coveting her as other men
had coveted the women she knew and despised? She found herself
confronted by the shocking conviction that he _knew_ she could never be
his wife. He _knew_ she was to wed another, and yet--It was
unbelievable!
She met his eager advance with a quick, shrill laugh of defiance, and
noted the surprise in his eyes. Dim as the light was, she could have
sworn that the look in those eyes was honest. Ah, that silly Neenah! The
reaction was as sudden as the revolt had been. Her smile grew warm and
shy.
"Von Blitz has been here," he was saying, half diffidently, still
searching deep in her eyes. "He's played hob. And he's likely to return
at any minute."
"Then let us go quickly. I have no desire to meet the objectionable Mr.
Von Blitz. Isn't it dreadfully dangerous here, Mr. Chase?" He mistook
the slight tremour in her voice for that of fear. A quaint look came
into his face, the lines about the corners of his mouth drooping
dolefully.
"Mr. Chase?" he said, with his winning smile. "Now?"
"Yes, now and always, Mr. Chase," she said steadily. "You know that it
cannot be otherwise. I can't always be a fool."
His face turned a deep red; his lips parted for retort to this truculent
estimate, but he controlled himself.
"Yes, it is dangerous here," he said quietly, answering her question.
"As soon as Selim bars that door upon the inside, we'll go. I was a fool
to bring you here."
"How could you know what the dangers would be?" she asked.
"I'll confess I didn't expect Von Blitz," he said drily.
"But you did expect--" she began, with a start, biting her lips.
"There's a vast difference between expectation and hope, Princess."
Neenah had joined Selim at the door when the men re-entered the chamber.
Now she was approaching with her husband.
"May Allah bless you and profit for Himself, excellencies," said the
good Selim. Neenah plainly had advanced her suspicions to the brown
body-servant. Genevra blushed and then her eyes blazed. She gave the
girl a scornful look; Neenah smiled happily, unreservedly in return.
"Allah help us, you should say, if Von Blitz returns," interposed Chase
hastily. "Is the door barred?"
"No, excellency. The bars have sprung, I cannot drop them in place. As
you know, the lock has been blown away. The charge sprung the bolts. We
must go at once."
"Then there is no way to keep them out of the château?" cried Genevra
anxiously.
"They can go no farther than this room," explained Selim. "We lock the
double iron doors from the other side--the door through which you came,
most glorious excellency--and they cannot enter the cellars above. This
is the chamber which opens into the underground passage to the coast.
The passage was made for escape from the château in case of trouble and
was known to but few. My father was the servant of Sahib Wyckholme, and
I used to live in the château. We came to the island when I was a baby.
My father had been with the sahib in Africa. I came to know of this
passage, for my father and my mother were to go with the masters if
there was an attack. Five years ago I was given a place in the company's
office, and I never came up here after my parents died of the plague. We
were--"
"The plague!" cried the Princess.
"It was said to have been the plague," said Selim bitterly. "They died
in great convulsions while spending the night in the Khan. That's the
inn of Aratat, excellencies. The great sahibs sent their stomachs away
to be examined--"
"Never mind, Selim," said Chase. "Tell us about the passage there."
"Once there was a boat--a launch, which lay hidden below the cliffs on
the north coast. The passage led to this boat. It was always ready to
put out to sea. But one night it was destroyed by the great rocks which
fell from the cliffs in an earthquake. When I came here, I at once
thought of the passage. You will see that the doors into the cellar
cannot be opened from this chamber; the locks and bolts are on the other
side. I knew where the keys were hidden. It was easy to unlock the doors
and come into this room. I found that some one had been here before me.
The door to the passage had been forced open from without--cracked by
dynamite. Many of the treasure boxes have been removed. Von Blitz was
here not an hour ago. He wears boots. I saw the footprints among the
naked ones in the passage. They will come back for the other chests.
Then they will blow up the passage way with powder and escape from the
château through it will be cut off. I have found the kegs of powder in
the passage and have destroyed the fuses. It will be of no avail, sahib.
They will blow it up at the other end, which will be just the same."
"There's no time to be lost," cried Chase. "We must bring enough men
down here to capture them when they return--shoot 'em if necessary. Come
on! We can surprise them if we hurry."
They were starting across the chamber toward the door, when a gruff,
sepulchral oath came rolling up to the chamber through the secret
passage. Quick as a flash Selim, who realised that they could not reach
and open the door leading to the stairs, turned in among the huge wine
casks, first blinding his lantern. He whispered for the others to
follow. In a moment they were squeezing themselves through the narrow
spaces between the dark, strong-smelling casks, back into a darkness so
opaque that it seemed lifeless. Selim halted them in a recess near the
wall and there they huddled, breathlessly awaiting the approach of the
invaders.
"They won't suspect that we are here," whispered Selim as the door to
the passage creaked. "Keep quiet! Don't breathe!"
The single electric light was still burning, as Selim had found it when
he first came. The door swung open slowly, heavily, and Jacob von Blitz,
half naked, mud-covered, reeking with perspiration, and panting
savagely, stepped into the light. Behind him came a man with a lantern,
and behind him two others.
They were white men, all. Von Blitz turned suddenly and cursed the man
with the lantern. The fellow was ready to drop with exhaustion.
Evidently it had been no easy task to remove the chests.