THE BIG SHOW BEGINS
The women and children--all save Kara--withdrew into the shadows.
The men gathered together. Tokalji crossed to the entrance.
"Less noise there!" he shouted threateningly. "This is a peaceful
house."
But his manner changed the moment he opened the wicket. What he said
we could not hear, but we saw him quickly turn the lock and throw
back a leaf of the door, salaaming low as he stepped aside. Six men
burst in, four of them in European clothes, and Nikka and I exchanged
a glance of apprehension as we recognized the broad shoulders of
their leader and heard his snarling voice.
Toutou LaFitte had arrived. With him were Hilyer, Serge Vassilievich
and Hilmi Bey. The two who brought up the rear, somewhat sulky and
fearful, were the spies we had seen in front of the Pera Palace that
morning.
"Can I trust nobody to fulfill my orders?" whined Toutou, striding
toward the fire. "I tell you to spare no efforts--and I come to find
you singing and dancing around a fire! Is that working? Is that
carrying out our treaty? But all are the same! My best people fail
me."
His green eyes shone evilly; his hands writhed with suppressed
ferocity. Tokalji, having refastened the door, followed him across
the courtyard. The Gypsy looked uncomfortable, but showed no fear.
"What could we have done that we have not done?" he retorted. "Was
it our fault that you lost track of the two missing ones? As for the
English lord and his servant, my two men that I see with you have
shadowed them day and night."
"And lost them to-day, as they admit," snarled Toutou. "Lost them
for a whole day! Who knows what has been accomplished in that time?"
"You are right there," agreed Tokalji coolly, "and I have just picked
two new men to take their places. Zlacho and Petko are good enough
for ordinary thievery, but this job seems to be above them."
"That is well," said Toutou, partly mollified. "There must be a
change in our methods or we shall fail in this coup. I decided to
hasten on to Constantinople with my colleagues because I was sure the
two who have escaped us must come here sooner or later, and whenever
they come we shall find them. But I cannot do everything. It is for
you to follow their trails."
"Never fear! We shall," replied Tokalji. "My new men start out at
once. One of them is a Frank like yourself; the other is a Tzigane."
"Ha; let me see that Frank," exclaimed Toutou. "I know many of the
Franks who live with the Tziganes."
"Step out, Giorgi Bordu and Jakka," called Tokalji.
Nikka sunk his fingers in my arm in a warning grip, and we stepped
forth from the group of Tziganes clustered in front of the fire.
There was at least a chance that we should not be identified--but its
value was demonstrated the instant the firelight splashed over
Nikka's aquiline face and tense, febrile body.
"Surely, I have seen that lean fellow before," piped Hilmi Bey,
pointing at Nikka.
"I saw them standing near the Frank lord and his servant in Pera this
morning," said one of the spies.
"What of that?" shouted Tokalji angrily. "It is true they followed
the Franks--which was more than you could do, Petko--and robbed them."
"No, the Franks followed them," protested Zlacho, the other spy.
"You lie, you dog!" bellowed Tokalji. "You think to discredit them
because they will do the work you bungled."
Vassilievich pushed in front of the newcomers.
"Is it my imagination," he inquired softly, "or does the stocky one
bear a resemblance to the Americansky, Nash?"
"By jove, I think you're right!" exclaimed Hilyer, speaking for the
first time.
"Be ready," hissed Nikka from the corner of his mouth, without
shifting his eyes from our enemies.
His right hand was thrust into his waist-sash.
"I do not like this business," rasped Toutou, pulling a knife from
inside his vest. "Somebody shall be tortured until he tells the
truth."
I felt a pressure between Nikka and myself, and Kara's voice
whispered:
"Run, you fools! To the House of the Married!"
Nikka's pistol flashed blue in the firelight.
"Shoot, Jack!" he cried.
A ruddy flame jetted from his muzzle, and the spy Petko dropped dead.
Toutou LaFitte pushed Zlacho in the line of fire before himself, and
dived into the encircling shadows as Zlacho crumpled up with a broken
leg. Tokalji, Hilyer, Vassilievich and Hilmi scattered. I swung on
my heel and shot twice over the group of Gypsies by the fire. I
could not bring myself to shoot at them, for there were women and
children close by. Then a bullet whistled past my ear, and Toutou's
voice whined:
"No shooting! Use your knives! Take them alive!"
I had a fleeting glimpse of Kara, running at me with her knife raised.
"There are only two!" roared Tokalji. "Pull them down!"
"Run!" I heard Nikka shout.
We pelted for the house on our left, the House of the Married, as
Kara had called it. Despite Toutou's warning, a second bullet
spattered on the stones between Nikka and me; but we were poor marks
in the half-light, with people running in every direction, many of
them uncertain who were friends or foes. I turned as I ran, and
fired into the ground in front of Kara, who was the closest of our
pursuers; but she refused to be frightened and actually plunged
through the doorway on our heels.
"I'll tend to her," panted Nikka. "You fasten the door, Jack."
There was a wooden bar, which I dropped into place, and the next
minute the framework groaned under a weight of bodies.
"No shooting," yelled Tokalji. "You fools, you'll have the Frank
police in here!"
"One hundred Napoleons a head for them," barked Toutou. "Dead or
alive."
The uproar redoubled, and then Tokalji evidently invaded the throng
hammering at the door.
"Leave that door alone," he snapped. "You're wasting time. Go
through the windows."
"Come on, Nikka," I urged. "We can't guard every point. We must run
for it."
"But what about this?" demanded Nikka whimsically. He jerked his
pistol muzzle at Kara sitting demurely on the floor, playing with her
knife. "If we show our backs, she'll knife us or open the door--and
besides, where shall we go?"
"Tie her up," I answered impatiently.
Kara, who, of course, could not understand a word of what we were
saying, laughed with glee.
"Do you think I am your enemy?" she demanded in the Tzigane dialect.
"I tell you I am your friend. See!"
And she tossed her knife across the room.
"I came with you to help you, Giorgi Bordu."
"My name is Nikka Zaranko," he answered shortly.
"What matters your name?" She leaped up and flung her arms around
his neck. "It is you I love--not your name."
Nikka eyed me sheepishly across her shoulder.
"See you, little one," he remonstrated, "this is no time for talking
of love. We may be dead in five minutes."
"Oh, no," she said, releasing him, nevertheless, "you shall be off
and away. I, Kara--" and it was ridiculous how she strutted in the
manner of Tokalji, himself--"will set you free--because I love you."
"But I am the enemy of your tribe--your enemy," replied Nikka. "You
do not realize what you do."
"I care not who you are," she insisted. "I love you. I care that
for the tribe!"
She snapped her fingers.
"But come," she added as a crash sounded outside. "They have broken
in a window. Follow me."
She led us into an adjoining room, where in the thickness of the wall
a narrow stairway corkscrewed upward, debouching on the upper floor.
Here was a long hall, with rooms opening off it, their windows
usually on the inner courtyard, the Garden of the Cedars of the First
Hugh's Instructions. She turned to the right, and entered one of the
rooms. A ladder leaned against the wall below a trap-door in the
roof. In a corner stood a bedstead, which she stripped of its
clothes, revealing the cords that served for springs.
"Cut those with your knife," she said. "When we take to the roofs we
will need them to help us down again."
Nikka did as she directed, while I shut the door, and piled the few
articles of furniture against it. Tokalji's men were in full cry
downstairs.
"There is more than enough rope here," said Nikka, coiling it on his
arm. "Some of it I am going to use for you."
"What?"
Passion dawned in her big eyes.
"You cannot go with us, little one. We have no place to take you.
And you do not know me. To-morrow you would cry your eyes out."
"I tell you I love you," she answered proudly. "I, Kara Tokalji."
"The daughter of my deadly enemy," reiterated Nikka.
"Oh, he is not my father," she said lightly. "No, I think I will go
with you, Nikka."
"And I think you won't," retorted Nikka, gritting his teeth. "Here,
Jack, catch hold."
He cut the rope in two, gave me half, and with the remaining section,
approached her. She backed away from him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," pleaded Nikka. "But I must bind you so
they will not suspect that you aided us. Don't you see? And we
could not run so fast with you."
"I can run as fast as the Frank," she declared. "But--"
"Our enemies will be here in a moment," warned Nikka.
She extended her hands, wrists joined together.
"Bind me," she said wearily. "I love you, Nikka Zaranko. If I can
help you in no other way, then, I will help you by staying here."
He bound her gently, hand and foot, without a word, and laid her on
the floor by the bed. I ascended the ladder, and pushed back the
trapdoor.
"You will come again?" she asked, looking up at him with mournful
eyes.
"If I do, it will be as an enemy," he returned.
"Your enemies are my enemies," she cried, struggling to a sitting
position. "With a woman it is her man who counts. She cares nothing
for the tribe--unless it be her man's. Now, you are my man, Nikka
Zaranko."
Nikka stooped over her, and I scrambled up on the roof. I believe he
kissed her. I heard his feet on the ladder-rungs, and his voice
calling back:
"You are a brave girl. We will talk about this some other time, if
the stars are kind."
"Oh, we shall meet again," she replied, her cords creaking as she
dropped flat on the floor. "I am as sure of it as if Mother Kathene
had told me when the sight was on her."
To me he merely said:
"Hurry, Jack! We've lost too much time. Which way?"
But I reached down first, and hauled up the ladder. The door was
shaking under a shower of blows. Kara looked interested as my arm
appeared, and her lips shaped themselves for a kiss. Then she saw it
was I, and scowled.
"Next house," I panted, and we set off across the roof.
To our left was the inner courtyard, a well of darkness in which
tinkled the Fountain of the Lion. To our right lay Sokaki Masyeri.
Ahead was a drop of ten feet on to the adjoining roof, the difference
in height representing the declining slope of the ground. We made it
without any difficulty. The people in this house had been aroused by
the shooting, and we could hear their voices and movements. But we
shuffled on cautiously, until we came to their courtyard, which ran
clear from the street-front to the old sea-wall.
"No choice," grunted Nikka. "Here's a chimney. Knot your rope. It
can't be more than twenty-five feet to the ground.'
"Why not slide directly into the street?" I argued.
"They might catch us coming down. Do as I say, and we can make sure
whether the coast is clear before we leave the courtyard."
He went down first, and I followed him, scorching my hands, for the
rope was thin and had no knots to check one's descent. I was in
mid-air when I heard an exclamation beneath me, and a thud.
"What the devil--" I started to whisper.
"Hsst!" came from Nikka. "Don't say anything."
He was standing over an inert figure lying on the ground beside a
half-opened door.
"Did you--"
"No, only belted him over the head with my pistol."
A woman's voice sounded inside the house, aggressively inquisitive.
"My God!" breathed Nikka. "She'll be out in a minute, and I can't
hit her. We've got to try the street."
We stole through the courtyard to the street-door. Behind us
Toutou's house was seething with activity. Somebody, apparently, had
just gained the roof. The woman inside the house we had invaded
became impatient, and a light showed. My fingers fumbled for the
latch; it seemed to me I should never find it. The light wavered
into the doorway, and a scream rose shrilly.
"Let me try," said Nikka. "Here it is!"
He pulled the door toward us very slowly, and we peered into the
street. Not a figure showed in the direction of Tokalji's house.
Ahead of us only a kerosene lantern burned in front of a coffee-shop
on the corner where Sokaki Masyeri curved to the north. And the
woman in the doorway of the house behind us was shrieking for dear
life.
We sped out into the street, letting the door slam behind us. The
noise distracted the attention of the woman from her unconscious
husband, and she left him to run after us. We also made the mistake
of taking the middle of the way instead of sticking to the shadows
under the walls. And we had not gone fifty feet when we were seen by
Gypsies on the roof of Tokalji's house, and they, with the woman to
help them, cried the rest of the pack hot on our trail.
At the corner by the coffee-shop I looked back and counted six in a
tapering string, with more emerging from the courtyard or climbing
over the roofs. Luckily for us, however, there was a four-way
crossing a hundred yards beyond the coffee-shop, and Nikka turned
left, away from Pera, toward which they would expect us to head. We
would have been safe then if we had not blundered into a Turkish
gendarme. He was naturally suspicious of our haste, and blocked the
narrow way; but I gave him a terrific punch in his fat stomach before
he could pull his gun.
We got by, of course, but his roars put the Tziganes right, and they
followed the scent instead of losing it as we reckoned they would.
The only thing for Nikka to do in the circumstances was to twist and
turn without heed to direction and lose both pursuers and ourselves
in the breakneck purlieus of Stamboul. He succeeded in shaking off
the Gypsies finally, but we were hopelessly astray, and it was past
midnight when we found the Khan of the Georgians and staggered
through the gate to thread a precarious path between sleeping men,
camels, bullocks, asses and horses.
Wasso Mikali awakened with the first knock on his door, and admitted
us. Smoking cigarette after cigarette as rapidly as he could roll
them, he listened to the story of our adventures with
avidity,--although I discovered later that Nikka had suppressed
Kara's part--and immediately dispatched his young men to spy around
Tokalji's house, and learn the dispositions the enemy were taking.
Then he insisted that we should sleep while he kept watch, and the
last memory I have of that awful night is of the old Gypsy's figure
stretched out on the floor, his back against the bolted door and a
cigarette in his mouth.
When we awakened the sun was streaming in through the open door along
with all the noises of the Khan and many of its smells. Our guardian
had coffee ready for us in a pot on the brazier, and his young men
had sent in a report. The women and children had left Tokalji's
house under escort of several of the men shortly after dawn. A
vigilant guard was being maintained on the entrance, and nobody had
come or gone--aside from the party of women and children--since
observation had been established. Before sunrise our spies had heard
the sounds of digging inside the premises.
Wasso Mikali looked doubtful as he imparted this last information.
"Perhaps they, too, have discovered the location of the treasure," he
suggested.
"No," said Nikka, smiling. "They are burying their dead."
"Ha, that is a good thought to hold in the mind," exclaimed the old
Gypsy, immensely pleased. "What better pleasure could a man ask than
to contemplate his enemies burying their brother that he slew!"
But instead of indulging in this Tzigane pastime we decided to take
our European clothing and adjourn to a neighboring Turkish bath where
we could remove the evidence of our Gypsy life. Wasso Mikali went
with us to carry back to the khan our discarded Gipsy costumes. I
urged him to join us in the pool after we had soaked off the top
layer of iniquities in a private room; but he shook his head with a
grimace of disgust.
"Tell Jakka, O son of my sister," he said, "that I marvel at the way
you risk your naked skins. How can a man hope to withstand the cold
and heat if he has nothing but clothing to cover him? Too much water
is bad for the strongest. It weakens the muscles."