ALMOS.
Mary Marlowe was an obedient daughter, and when her father checked her
move to go to the aid of the imperilled ones on the boat, and
peremptorily ordered her to wait where she was, she obeyed without
protest. She would have been glad to bear them company, but knew she
would be more of a hindrance than a help.
It was less than five minutes after the disappearance of her father and
betrothed when she was frightened by hearing a slight sound directly
behind her in the path. Her thought naturally was that some wild
animal was stealing upon her, but the first glance told a more dreadful
story. Five men, who, from their ragged, scant attire, their dark
complexion and wild expression of features, she knew to belong to the
terrible bandits called Ghoojurs, had come upon her unnoticed, and
pausing within a half dozen paces, were looking fixedly at her.
The sight was so startling that the young woman gasped and recoiled.
She would have fled after her friends had not the leader made a
gesture, accompanied by the command:
"Stay where you are or you shall be killed! I know you as the daughter
of the doctor, and we seek you and him."
Each of the Ghoojurs carried a long, muzzle-loading gun, and every one
had a yataghan thrust into a girdle around his waist, the weapon being
a foot or more in length, and with a point of needle-like fineness.
The leader spoke in Hindustani, which was as familiar to the young
woman as her own tongue.
The young woman possessed quick wit. She could not doubt that the
five, including Almos and Mustad, were now her deadly enemies. Whether
they had taken part in the massacre of those left on the boat could not
be conjectured, but the probabilities were the other way, since it
would have been well-nigh impossible for them to reach their present
position from the river without colliding with Dr. Marlowe and Jack
Everson.
Mary showed her shrewdness by acting as if the two men were the friends
they had always shown themselves when their former meetings took place.
"Why, Almos," she said, forcing a smile in which there was no pleasure,
"we have not met before since you came to my home and my father gave
you medicine that cured your illness. How do you do?"
And she had the courage to advance a step and offer her dainty hand,
but the brute refused it. With a shake of his head he retreated a step
and said:
"My caste will not allow me."
"But it allowed you to take drink and food from my hand and medicine
from that of my father," she said, stung by the repulse.
"I did evil, for which Allah has pardoned me; the faithful have been
summoned to drive the infidels from India; the followers of Islam have
heard the call, and they are flocking to the banner of the Prophet from
all parts of Hindostan; not one infidel shall be left in all the land."
During these few moments Mustad stood directly behind the leader, with
a fixed grin in which there was a certain shamefacedness, for with all
his fierce fanaticism he could not forget the gentle, sweet nature of
the one who had become a prisoner nor the unvarying kindness he had
received at her hands. True, the devil in his nature was roused, and
there could be little question that he was acting as guide to these
murderers while they hunted for the doctor and his family.
"And do you mean to help kill those who have been your friends,
Mustad?" she asked, with her penetrating eyes fixed upon him.
Had the two been alone, it is possible the edge would have been taken
off the response, but with four Ghoojurs at his elbow, and one of them
the furious Almos, he dared not be behind them in savagery.
"This is a war for our deen; when we fight for that we know none but
the followers of the Prophet! The Inglese loge stole our homes and our
land from us! They have put lard on the cartridges of the Sepoys that
the faithful may become unclean and be shut out of paradise! I hate
them all! I have no friends among them! I shall never sheath my knife
nor stay my hand while one remains alive in India."
"Let it be as you say," she calmly replied, seeing that it was useless
to hold converse with the wretch.
Her wish was to keep the party where they were until Jack and her
father could have time to return. Here would be an opportunity for the
young man to make a few more bull's-eyes, but Almos was too wise to run
the risk. He was not afraid to fight two men, even though not so well
armed as they, but his wish was first to place the young woman beyond
their reach--for when the fight came it would be to the death.
"No harm shall come to you," said the leader in a gentler tone. "Walk
forward over the path and we will guard you against harm."
"Whither do you intend to take me?" she asked, debating whether to obey
or to make a fight then and there and force matters to an issue.
"To Akwar."
"Why there?"
"To place you among friends that your enemies may not reach you."
"Why not take me to my home?"
"It has been burned and the men are hiding among the trees that they
may slay you when you and your father return."
After a moment's hesitation she obeyed, taking the path along which her
parent soon after pressed in the desperate effort to recover her from
her captors.