But he drank, as did we all, for our thirst was great and the odor of
the golden liquid was most alluring. It tasted hotter than the fires
of Jelbuz. It was also of great potency and gave a fine exhilaration
to the senses. We became happier at once.
And here it was that Ja-khaz did a fatal thing. Being near the maid
and much affected by her beauty, he addressed her as Hur-al-missa (The
most angelic of women.) which, of course, she understood not. This
were well had he gone no further, but he next put his arm about her
waist with intent to kiss her. Much terrified, she tried to free
herself. But Ja-khaz, holding her fair chin with his other hand, had
brought his lips almost to hers when the old man raised his heavy
staff and brought it down upon our comrade's head with cruel
swiftness. This falling stick upon a solid skull resounded about the
dome and echoed through the empty corridors.
Bhoz-ja-khaz blinked and staggered back.
Then, with fury in his face, he sprang savagely toward the aged man.
But here the younger Mehrikan interfered. Rapidly approaching them
and shutting tight his bony hand, he shot it from him with startling
velocity, so directing that it came in contact with the face of
Ja-khaz who, to our amazement, sat roughly upon the marble pavement,
the blood streaming from his nostrils. He was a pitiful sight.
Unaccustomed to such warfare we were seriously alarmed, and thought
him killed perhaps. Ad-el-pate, a mighty wrestler, and of powerful
build, rushed furiously upon the Mehrikan for whom I trembled. But his
arm again went out before him, and Ad-el-pate likewise sat. A mournful
spectacle, and every Persian felt his heart beat fast within him.
By this time Ja-khaz was on his feet again, purple with rage. With
uplifted scimitar he sprang toward our host. The old man stepped
between. Ja-khaz, with wanton cruelty, brought his steel upon the
ancient head, and stretched him upon the floor. For an instant the
younger one stood horror-stricken, then snatching from the floor the
patriarch's staff--a heavy stick with an iron end--he jumped forward,
and, quicker than words can tell it, dealt a frightful blow upon the
head of Ja-khaz which sent him headlong to the ground with a broken
skull.
All this had happened in a moment, and wild confusion followed. My
followers drew their arms and rushed upon the Mehrikan. The girl ran
forward either from terror or to shield her spouse, I know not which,
when a flying arrow from a sailor's cross-bow pierced her to the
heart.
This gave the Mehrikan the energy of twenty men.
He knocked brave Kuzundam senseless with a blow that would have killed
an ox. Such fury I had not conceived. He brought his flying staff like
a thunderbolt from Heaven upon the Persian skulls, yet always edging
toward the door to prevent his enemies surrounding him. Four of our
number, in as many minutes, joined Ja-khaz upon the floor. Kuzundam,
Ad-el-pate, Fattan-laiz-eh, and Ha-tak, a sailor, lay stretched upon
the pavement, all dead or grievously wounded.
So suddenly had this taken place, that I hardly realized what had
happened. I rushed forward to stay the combat, but he mistook the
purpose, struck my scimitar with a force that sent it flying through
the air, and had raised his staff to deal a second for myself, when
brave Lev-el-Hedyd stepped in to save me, and thrust quickly at him.
But alas! the Mehrikan warded off his stroke with one yet quicker, and
brought his stick so swiftly against my comrade's head that it laid
him with the others.
When Lev-el-Hedyd fell I saw the Mehrikan had many wounds, for my
comrades had made a savage onslaught. He tottered as he moved back
into the doorway, where he leaned against the wall for an instant, his
eyes meeting ours with a look of defiance and contempt that I would
willingly forget. Then the staff dropped from his hand; he staggered
out to the great portico, and fell his length upon the pavement.
Nofuhl hastened to him, but he was dead.
As he fell a wonderful thing took place--an impossible thing, as I
look back upon it, but both Nofuhl and I saw it distinctly.
In front of the great steps and facing this doorway is a large sitting
image of George-wash-yn-tun. As the Mehrikan staggered out upon the
porch, his hands outstretched before him and with Death at his heart,
this statue slowly bowed its head as if in recognition of a gallant
fight.
Perhaps it was the sorrowful acceptance of a bitter ending.