THE FINDING OF THE TREASURE
Royson, a soldier by instinct if not by training, realized the folly of
dashing blindly into a fray the nature of which was hidden from him.
Though the plight of his erstwhile companions must be desperate--though
the lengthening shadows warned him that the time ran short--it was
all-important that he should learn the manner and direction of the
attack, and the means adopted by von Kerber for repelling it, ere the
presence of the relieving force became known. He had heard much of the
fighting qualities of the Hadendowas. They were brave, but they were
not given to throwing their lives away uselessly. Judging by the steady
crackling of musketry, they were "eating up" the smaller contingent
with the least possible risk to themselves. They were quite capable of
delivering a fierce charge when they witnessed the approach of the
rescuers, or, on the other hand, they might allow the newcomers to
combine with von Kerber, and depend on their rifle fire to dispose of
the reinforced defense. He must decide quickly, once he knew the
conditions, and it was imperative, therefore, that something in the
nature of a reconnaissance should be conducted from the shoulder of the
rising ground which terminated the plateau. By shouting to Abdur Kad'r
and signaling to his own men, Dick managed to check the furious onward
rush of the detachment. It was no easy matter to stop the excited
camels. The stubborn brutes were equally unwilling either to travel at
such a rate or to abandon it. Before the sky-line was reached, however,
they were pulled up. Royson, Abdur Kad'r and Abdullah dismounted, and
ran rapidly to the crest, dodging behind rocks and broken ground until
they secured a clear view of the panorama in front. It was a singular
and, in one respect, a disconcerting scene that met their anxious gaze.
The only practicable road descended rapidly towards an immensely wide
and shallow depression. Conceivably, this basin might have been formed
by the subsidence of the land all round an extinct volcano, whose
one-time activity was revealed by a cluster of small cones in the
distance. Running due east, and passing north of the crater thus
curiously marked, was the arid river-bed which created the oasis, and
rendered possible the well which gave its name to the place.
Unfortunately, the group of lava hillocks was situated much beyond the
center of the hollow. They were commanded by small hills on three
sides, and, though capable of defense in some respects, they offered
the grave disadvantage of being in a circle. Consequently, the only
section secure from an enemy's fire was that on the western side, and
it was evident that the defenders had found this to be actually the
case. They were, of course, clearly visible from the ridge, where,
unknown to them, the leader of a strong relief was then lying in the
cleft of a rock split to its base by extremes of heat and cold.
Dick counted the cones. There were seven of them. Though fully a mile
and a half distant, he could see Mrs. Haxton sitting between two huge
boulders. Von Kerber was near her, and the few Arabs with them were
scattered among the rocks in positions whence they could return the
incessant fusillade poured on them from the hills. Their camels were
huddled in a hollow between the two westerly mounds, and, so far as
Royson could judge, the little party had not yet sustained many
casualties. But the tactics of their assailants were quite obvious. The
Hadendowas, silently and unseen, had occupied the higher ground on the
north, east, and south. They had probably stampeded the unsuspecting
_kafila_ from the open oasis, because a couple of tents and some camp
equipage still stood there, and it was their intent to creep nearer,
pushing the horns of an ever-closing crescent steadily westward, until
a junction effected just before sunset would permit of a successful
rush. Indeed, all doubt on this point was dispelled by the discovery of
two strong companies of Hadendowas gathering on the reverse slopes of
the nearest hills. They were mounted, mostly on camels. They did not
reveal their existence by taking part in the firing. They seemed to be
waiting some signal before they rode out into the plain, to complete
the merciless ring which would then surround the doomed occupants of
the Seven Hills.
There was not a moment to be lost, and Royson, having formed his plan,
put it into instant operation. He and the six sailors would be the
first to cross the sky-line, while a few Arabs would accompany them,
but hurry back as soon as they were visible, giving the impression that
they had gone to summon others. The men from the _Aphrodite_ would ride
straight, at top speed, towards the beleaguered party. Two minutes
later, Abdur Kad'r was to lead half his Arabs over the ridge and make
for the enemy's right wing, while, after a similar interval, Abdullah,
at the head of the remaining detachment, would similarly dash into
sight and advance against the enemy's left. The opposing force would
thus see three successive waves of rescuers, each apparently stronger
than its predecessor, coming from the only direction whence succor was
possible. Alfieri and his followers were well aware already of the
strength of Mr. Fenshawe's expedition. If they imagined that it was
advancing in its full numbers, they might break and run without firing
another shot. If, however, they showed fight, Abdur Kad'r and Abdullah
had most stringent orders not to pursue the flanking parties, which
they would certainly drive in on the main body. They were to converge
towards the hillocks, where Royson would, by that time, have brought
hope and renewed courage to their hard-pressed friends. Then, granted
that the Hadendowas dared a general attack, the whole force, rescuers
and rescued, were to fall back, converting the struggle into a
rear-guard action, and compelling the Hadendowas to relinquish the
advantage of the higher ground. Once they came into the open, Royson
counted on the superior shooting of his six sailors--all marksmen of
the Royal Navy--to turn the scale unmistakably in his favor, while his
Arabs had the confidence of knowing that each mile they gained in the
retreat brought them nearer the powerful caravan in the rear.
The scheme was excellent in every way. Under ordinary conditions it
would have achieved success, but the sane mind can never take into
reckoning the vagaries of the insane, and it is quite certain that
Alfieri, worn alike by hardship and long brooding over his wrongs,
either went stark staring mad at the spectacle of relief being
forthcoming for those whom he believed to be entrapped, or gave instant
rein to the frenzy already consuming him.
At a moment, then, when it was suicidal to attempt an attack which his
men had refused to carry out under the much less dangerous conditions
that prevailed all day--it was ascertained afterwards that the first
shower of bullets fell into the startled camp about ten o'clock that
morning--at that moment, Alfieri, screaming curses in Italian and
Arabic, called on those nearest to follow him, and rode out from the
shelter of one of the small hills. In sheer excitement, a few
Hadendowas obeyed his wild command. They had not far to go, but the
rocky water-course barred the track and they must cross it slowly. Now,
above all else, was the time for the sorely-tried little band under von
Kerber to stand fast. They could have shot at their leisure Alfieri and
each man of the half dozen who came with him. Already three groups of
yelling men were stirring the dust into life as they scampered to the
rescue across the comparatively level floor of the basin. In five
minutes, or less, the Hadendowa attack would be rolled back into the
hills, and neither friend nor foe had any other thought than that the
whole of Mr. Fenshawe's _kafila_ was pouring its irresistible power
into the fray.
The situation was precisely one of the suddenly-arising and acute
crises in warfare which accentuate the difference between races. While
von Kerber, and Mrs. Haxton, too, for that matter, saw the urgent need
of prolonging the desperate strife for just those few minutes, their
Arabs, after fighting coolly and bravely throughout an exhausting day,
now quite lost their heads. Heedless of the Austrian's prayers and
imprecations, heedless of Mrs. Haxton's shrill appeal that they should
beat off the few assailants then perilously close at hand, they yielded
to the blind instinct of self-preservation, and rushed pell-mell for
the camels. At once these men of a martial tribe, men who had
cheerfully faced the far greater danger of the Hadendowa general
attack, became untrammeled savages, each striving like a maniac to
secure a mount for himself, and careless whether or not his employers
and comrades escaped also.
Many of the camels were wounded, some were dead, and valuable time was
wasted, even in this disgraceful _sauve qui peut_, in a deadly struggle
for possession of such animals as could move. Von Kerber, when it was
borne in on him that to obtain a camel meant life for Mrs. Haxton and
himself, shouted to her to keep close to him, and ran in front of a
mounted Arab who had emerged from the melee. He ordered the man to
halt, and, so near were Royson and his tiny squadron just then, that
the camel might have brought all three into safety. But the Arab bent
his head, and urged the swaying beast into a faster trot. Von Kerber
fired at him, and the unhappy tribesman tumbled from his perch like a
dummy figure. Snatching at the camel's head-rope, the Austrian lifted,
almost threw Mrs. Haxton up to the saddle. Owing to its height from the
ground, it was impossible to place her there securely, but she helped
him bravely, scrambled somehow to the awkward seat, and stooped to drag
him up behind. She had succeeded, by main force. The excited beast was
plunging forward again to get away from the affrighting turmoil close
to its heels, when a heavy thud shook the huge frame, the camel fell to
its knees, lurched over on its side, and threw both riders heavily.
Von Kerber alone rose. He was dazed for an instant, but he seemed to
have a dim consciousness of the quarter from which mortal peril
threatened, for he turned and faced Alfieri, who had reined in the
Somali pony he rode and was taking deliberate aim at his enemy. The
Italian carried a repeating rifle. It was he who had brought down the
camel with a well-judged shot through the lungs, and, with the same
venomous accuracy, he now sent a bullet through von Kerber's breast.
The stricken man dropped on all fours, and glared up at his murderer.
Then, nerving himself for a supreme effort of hate, he raised his own
revolver and fired three times at Alfieri. Twice he missed, owing to
the restiveness of the horse, but the third shot hit the Italian in the
center of the forehead.
When Royson found them, they were lying within a few feet of each
other. Alfieri was dead. His pale student's features, softened by the
great change, wore a queer look of surprise. Von Kerber was alive, but
dying. He had fallen on his face, and Dick lifted him gently, resting
the drooping head against his knee.
"Are you badly wounded?" he asked, knowing well by the ashen pallor
beneath the bronze of the desert that the man's stormy life was fast
ebbing to its close. A dreadful froth bubbled from von Kerber's lips,
and the words came brokenly:
"That Italian beast--I hit him, yes?"
"I suppose so. I could not see what happened. But he is dead. Pay no
heed to him. Tell me what is best to be done for you."
"Dead! _Ach, lieber Gott!_ That is good.... I--I am finished--_I_
know.... Go to Mrs. Haxton. Tell her ... the treasure ... Fenshawe will
be generous...."
And that was all. He did not die instantly, but consciousness failed,
and the soul soon fluttered out of the limp body with a sigh.
Dick laid the inanimate form on the desert. He went to look for Mrs.
Haxton. She was stretched, apparently lifeless, beneath the camel's
shoulder. Royson seized the huge beast by the neck and flung it aside
bodily. So far as he could judge, she was uninjured, though he feared
the camel might have broken one of her limbs or fractured a rib,
because his first thought was that the animal had fallen on top of her.
But his anxiety was soon dispelled when he forced some of the contents
of his water-bottle between, her set teeth. She sobbed twice, and her
bosom rose and fell spasmodically. Then, with a sudden return to the
full use of her senses which, was almost uncanny, she wrested herself
free from his arms and shrank away, quivering, while her eyes gazed at
him with awful questioning. As she looked she seemed to understand that
this man who had held her so tenderly was not the man whom she feared
to see. The reaction was too great. Dick watched the glance of
recognition fading away into insensibility. With a little gasp, she
fainted again, but he knew, this time, that her collapse was the
natural sequel to the ordeal she had gone through. He roughly bundled a
camel cloth into a pillow, laid her head on it, and gave the attention
that was necessary to events elsewhere.
He had appreciated the fatal error of the friendly Arabs in deserting
their stronghold. Though he and his companions pressed on at a
dangerous speed, they could do nothing to stop the panic. Some of the
runaways almost charged into them, and seriously interfered with their
view of the advancing Hadendowas. That was only for a moment, but
seconds are precious when men are shooting at point-blank range, and
Royson was lashing an Arab out of his path at the instant Alfieri fired
the first shot at the double-laden camel. The Hadendowas scattered and
fled when they caught a glimpse of the white faces. But they did not
get away unscathed. Slipping out of their saddles, four of the
_Aphrodite's_ crew opened fire, and brought five of the robber
tribesmen headlong to earth, while the sixth saved his skin by falling
with his wounded camel and skulking unnoticed to the hills along the
water-course. As for the remainder, the flanking parties bolted before
Abdur Kad'r or Abdullah could get within striking distance, and from
that hour no sensible Hadendowa came near the Well of Moses for many a
month.
In fact, Royson found that his own men were already standing quietly in
a group, waiting for orders, and the two detachments of caravan Arabs
were coming in from the wings in accordance with his preconcerted plan.
Some of the bolting escort were returning. They looked shamefaced when
they passed von Kerber lying dead on the ground. One of them, a Hadji,
who wore the green turban and black cloak of a pilgrim to Mecca, began
to murmur an explanation to Royson, but the giant Effendi gave him such
a glance of scorn and anger that the man made off, lest the evil from
which he had fled might yet befall him. In the immediate foreground
were several prostrate forms, mostly Arabs injured in the fight for the
camels, and so gravely wounded that they could not move. A struggling
camel or two, screaming and kicking in agony, seemed to be strangely
out of place in the peaceful hush which instantly enfolded the desert.
The shouting and musketry that made pandemonium there a few minutes
earlier had vanished. The tops of the more distant mountains were
glowing in purple and gold, and the blue of the sky was deepening. In
that brief hour before the utter darkness that follows sunset the
desert has a rare beauty. It has lights and shades denied to softer
landscapes. Titania's bower can show no more brilliant color effects.
It is then a fit background for romance and mystery, but it breathes no
hint of war or death, and such things wear a sacrilegious aspect when
brought forcibly into those fairy-like surroundings.
Royson, though he had watched the transformation of rock and arid earth
many a time with kindling eyes, gave small heed to the dream-face of
nature as he scanned the splendid prospect for sign of further attack
by the Hadendowas. He found none, but he happened to note the furtive
manner of some among the Arab escort who were hastening toward the
small hollow enclosed by the Seven Hills.
Then he remembered why this solitary place had become a Golgotha. The
hapless von Kerber was disinterring the treasure when the Hadendowa
assault began. In all likelihood, had the free-booters ridden boldly up
in the first instance, the fight would have ended in less minutes than
it had occupied hours. And these other ghouls, before they were driven
off by a hail of lead, had learnt what store of wealth was buried there
beneath the sand.
"Chaytor," said Royson, addressing one of the crew who had acted as
quartermaster on board the yacht, "take three men and mount guard over
any trench or other excavation you may find in the valley between those
mounds. Let no Arab even approach the place. Use force if necessary,
but try and avoid any shooting. I shall join you there before sunset."
"Ay, ay, sir," said Chaytor. He named three men, and the four hurried
to their post. Bidding the other two sailors help him, Royson turned to
carry out a disagreeable task. Von Kerber, Alfieri, and the rest must
be buried while there was yet light. He meant to make a rough inventory
of documents and letters found in the pockets of the Europeans. The
Arabs would scoop shallow graves where the sand was deepest, and pile
heavy stones over the bodies to protect them from jackals. Such was the
simple ceremony of the desert. And it demanded haste.
But a distressing sight awaited him. Mrs. Haxton was kneeling by von
Kerber's side, and weeping in a heart-broken way. He went to her, and
said, almost in a whisper:
"You can do no good by remaining here. Won't you go to the tent that is
fixed in the oasis, and wait there until I join you? I shall not be
long. You understand--it is for the best."
She raised her streaming eyes, and he had never before seen such a
grief-stricken face.
"Mr. Royson," she murmured dully, "let me pray yet a little while."
"Indeed I am sorry for you," he said. "Yet I must urge you to go. We
have not a moment to lose."
"To lose? What else can happen?"
"The night is coming. We cannot leave the bodies here. It would be too
horrible."
"Ah," she sighed, "there is no horror to equal mine. I have the blood
of three men on my soul."
She suffered him to lead her away. He tried to console her by throwing
all the responsibility on to the Italian. But he felt that this palsied
woman scarce listened to his words. He was almost glad to leave her
alone with her mournful thoughts. In active work he could find
distraction from the sad influences of this fatal treasure-hunt. There
were still many things he did not comprehend, but he resolutely
dismissed all self-communing. Perhaps, when the first paroxysm of woe
had exhausted itself, Mrs. Haxton might explain; meanwhile, he must
endeavor to hide the chief features of the tragedy ere Irene arrived.
When he moved Alfieri's body is order to examine his clothing, he saw
that the man's coat was torn at the breast, the cloth having caught a
jagged rock as its wearer fell from the saddle. Through this rent a
pocketbook and some papers had slipped out. They were resting on a
little sand drift at the base of the rock that had caused the damage.
The pocketbook was open. Some of the sand had entered its compartments.
And, in one of them, were the papyrus leaves found in the tomb of
Demetriades, the Greek, whose mortal eyes were the last that had gazed
on the treasure of Sheba! In truth, here was one of the world's dramas,
with its scenes divided by two thousand years, yet the parched desert
was content to wait there placidly, in sure and certain knowledge that
the curtain would rise again on that grim play, whether the years were
few or many between the acts. How little changed was the stage. But
what of the actors? Did the modern troupe differ so greatly from the
two-thousand-year-old cast--the merchant in ivory and skins who quitted
his quiet business at Alexandria to seek adventure and gold, the Romans
who went to kill and plunder an inoffensive people, the Nubians who
waylaid them, and left their bones to bleach? Assuredly, looking at the
dozen or more dead bodies stretched in a row at his feet, Royson deemed
mankind as unchangeable as the desert.
* * * * *
At two o'clock, when the stars and a new moon were dimly lighting the
circle of hills, an Arab vedette reported the approach of a large
_kafila_ from the west. Soon the jingle of accouterments and the cries
of camels who scented the oasis heralded the arrival of the main body.
When Dick lifted a weary Irene from the saddle he made no pretense of
shyness, but kissed her quite heartily.
Yet Dick's tidings caused grave faces in the small circle round the
camp-fire. Mr. Fenshawe, as responsible leader of the expedition, felt
the weight of this added burthen of death. There was no gainsaying the
fact that he had been dragged into an unlawful enterprise. He was in
Italian territory against the will of the authorities. Though he and
those under his control were guiltless of actual wrong-doing, it was
exceedingly unfortunate that Alfieri had not lived to make a
deposition. The treasure-seekers must now depend on the testimony of
the wounded Hadendowas, four of whom had surrendered voluntarily, for
the one great principle which the East has learnt from the West is that
Europeans usually show humanity to a disabled foe. Abdullah, too,
assured the millionaire that the Italian officer who accompanied
Alfieri from Massowah warned the latter against any act of violence,
and would have restrained him from undertaking an apparently useless
search if the instructions received from Rome had not directed that
"every assistance was to be given to Signor Giuseppe Alfieri."
There could be no manner of doubt that the Italian had begun an
unprovoked attack on the smaller _kafila_. His only messengers were
bullets, and the orders he issued to the Hadendowas were definite. The
whole party was to be exterminated, with the exception of Mrs. Haxton,
who was to be taken alive if possible. Again, there was direct evidence
of his duplicity with regard to the meeting arranged for that morning.
Fenshawe's friendly letter was found among his papers, so he had
hurried from his camp on the Suleiman's Well route with the deliberate
intention of wiping out of existence the man who was his sworn enemy.
Still, the affair wore an ugly look, and tired though he was, Fenshawe
had no thought of rest until the contradictory elements of a most
perplexing business were sifted.
He was seated near the fire with Royson and Stump. Irene had gone to
Mrs. Haxton the instant she heard Dick's tragic story.
"Has Mrs. Haxton thrown any light on events?" Fenshawe asked. "You say
she was completely broken down. Did you gather from her words that von
Kerber brought her here knowing that this oasis was the place described
by the Greek?"
"She did not even mention the treasure. Perhaps I could have induced
her to speak, but--"
"You forbore. I am glad of it. Has any of the loot been discovered?"
"It was dark when I visited the trench von Kerber was cutting. Alfieri
sent a volley at him, and stopped the work before much was done, but
the Arabs tell me that some leather wallets are visible. The men who
were here this morning know that the contents are valuable, so I have
stationed an armed guard there."
"I wish I could destroy every vestige of the wretched stuff. There is a
curse on it."
Fenshawe's tone revealed how deeply he was moved.
"Where is Abdullah?" he cried suddenly. "If he will tell us the truth,
we may reach firm ground in the midst of all this morass of lies and
treachery. Send for him. He is an Arab, and, if he thinks his interests
are bound up with ours, he will speak."
Abdullah, surveying the conclave from afar, had arrived at an opinion
that justified this estimate. His first words shed light on a dark
place in the records of the two men who were lying side by side in the
safe keeping of the desert. His command of French rendered conversation
easy, except to Stump, and he was quite explicit.
"Madam is beautiful, is it not?" he said, indicating Mrs. Haxton's tent
by a graceful gesture "Seven years ago, she was the most beautiful
woman in Egypt. Her husband should not have brought her here. By
Mahomet, Egypt is no place for the good-looking wife of a poor man.
That is the cause of all the trouble, messieurs. Elegant birds require
glided cages, and Monsieur Hasten had not money enough. I met them
first in Massowah, where she lived in the hotel, while her husband went
up and down the Red Sea in a ship. Alfieri was there, and he also was
poor, but he ruined himself in trying to win her away from Monsieur
Haxton. He failed, and, like many another man, that only made him
worse. When Monsieur Haxton was sent to Assouan, by a new company,
Alfieri went there, too. It was at that time I found the papers which
tell about the treasure--"
"How do you know they tell about the treasure?" broke in Fenshawe.
"Because I stole them from Monsieur Haxton," was the cool reply. "I had
sold them to Monsieur Alfieri, and he gave them to Madame's husband.
Monsieur le Baron was his doctor, and a friend, but, when he found out
how valuable those papers were, he hired me to secure them from
Monsieur Haxton's bureau while he slept. Unfortunately, there was an
accident. Monsieur Haxton was in a fever, and the doctor gave him a
sleeping draft. Monsieur Haxton took too much, and he never woke again."
Fenshawe's face grew dark with anger.
"You scoundrel!" he cried. "Between you, you poisoned the man. I
recollect the incident now. I saw it in the papers at the time."
"You are wrong, Monsieur," said Abdullah calmly. "There was an inquiry,
and it was proved that the draft was only a strong one--quite harmless
if the doctor's written orders were obeyed. True, none but I and the
Baron knew why the Englishman should sleep so soundly that night, but
it was not meant to kill him. Monsieur Alfieri charged the doctor with
having committed a crime, so Monsieur Haxton's friends had the affair
fully examined into. It was really an accident. Monsieur le Baron was
exceedingly grieved."
"But he kept the papers?" was Fenshawe's grim comment.
"By the Kaaba, and why not? Here was Monsieur Alfieri trying to hang
him, and all because Madame would not have anything to do with him. You
see, there was every reason why the Hakim Effendi should get the
papers. Monsieur Haxton was fool enough to tell Alfieri something about
them."
"Probably Monsieur Haxton meant to play the part of an honest man."
"It may be. Who knows? Yet it is certain that Alfieri would never have
shared the treasure with Monsieur Haxton If he had known what the
writing was about. On the other hand, Monsieur le Baron told Madame
everything, and he promised me a good share for helping him. When he
went to England he left me to watch Alfieri. They were always enemies,
those two."
Dick remembered the letter in Arabic he had seen von Kerber reading on
the night they met in the Austrian's house. And he recalled, too, with
a shiver, Mrs. Haxton's agonized words when he tried to lead her away
from the dead man who had dared so much for her sake. She had "the
blood of three men on her soul," she said. One of those men was her
husband. In that dark hour, what terrible shadows had trooped from the
tomb to torture her! He said nothing to his companions. She knew. He
only guessed, and he left it at that.
* * * * *
Next day many hands completed the task von Kerber had begun. But
Fenshawe had made up his mind on a course of action, and he adhered to
it rigidly. The list given by Demetriades was almost correct. One
hundred and seventy wallets were brought to light, just two less than
the number stated by the Greek. They were left unopened. Exactly as
they were taken from the sand so were they sealed and set aside until
transportation details were arranged. Mr. Fenshawe pointed out to the
men from the _Aphrodite_ how important it was that the treasure should
be made over to the Italian Government intact. By that means alone
could their story be justified, and he guaranteed that no one should
suffer financial loss by reason of his decision.
Mrs. Haxton was too ill to be either questioned or consulted. She was
carried to the sea almost at death's door, and her ultimate recovery
was doubtful even a fortnight later, when the _Aphrodite_ brought them
all to Aden. And it may be said here that the monetary value of the
treasure was not great--its utmost figure being placed at £50,000. The
two missing wallets were those containing the gems. Probably that was
another story which the desert has in safe keeping. The Italian Foreign
Office behaved generously to the disappointed archeologist. He was
acquitted from any blame in regard to the affray at the Well of Moses,
and he was asked to select for his own collection twelve of the ancient
Persian and Indian gold vases which formed the chief prizes of the
hoard.
But that was long afterward, when Sir Richard and Lady Royson were on
their honeymoon trip to Japan, when Captain and Mrs. Stump, attended by
the faithful Tagg, had enjoyed the "time of their lives" at Orme
Castle, and when Mrs. Haxton, elegant as ever, but very quiet and
reserved in manner, was living in a tiny villa at Bath, where Mr.
Fenshawe's munificence had established her for the remainder of her
days. She said, and there was no reason to disbelieve her, that von
Kerber had no knowledge of the identity of the oasis at the Well of
Moses. He went that way to the sea by sheer accident and became half
crazy with excitement at the sight of the Seven Hills. It was his fixed
intention, she declared, to send word to Fenshawe as soon as he had
ascertained, beyond range of doubt, that the Sheban loot was really
buried there.
Dick and his wife passed a fortnight at Cairo on their voyage home.
They chanced to admire some old praying carpets in a shop in the
bazaar, and asked the price. They offered half the sum named, and the
attendant, a slim youth, said he would consult his father.
A tall, stoutly-built Arab came from a dark inner apartment. His
regular, somewhat grave, features at once expanded into a delighted
smile.
"By the Prophet!" he exclaimed in excellent French, "I am overjoyed at
seeing you, Monsieur et Madame. You will drink coffee with me, is it
not? And, as for the rugs, take them. They are yours, I set up a shop
with the money Monsieur Fenshawe gave me, and I am prosperous! _Que
diable!_ That was a lucky journey for me when we all went south
together. I have left the desert now. Behold! I am a good citizen, and
pay taxes."
Irene laughed. She had never pictured Abdullah the Spear-thrower as a
shop-keeper, and waxing fat withal.
"You, at any rate, found treasure at the Well of Moses," she cried.
Abdullah glanced at her happy, smiling face. He turned to Royson, and
bowed, with something of his former grace.
"Let me congratulate you, Monsieur, on your far greater fortune," he
said.