It was in truth the sheik who had been struck by the train the previous
day.
The Arab turned and faced the howling mob, flourishing his shining
sword.
"Destroy the infidel who has defiled the holy temple of the Prophet!"
snarled one of the infuriated Mohammedans.
"By the grave of my father," cried the sheik, "I swear to slay the first
who tries to touch her!"
They were astounded, and as he swept his sword with a hissing sound
beneath their noses they involuntarily fell back.
One of the priests called to the sheik, demanding to know why he
defended the infidels.
The aged Arab retorted that he had a most excellent reason, and that he
would lay down his life rather than see either the girl or boy harmed.
He did more than that, for he called several of the mob by name,
commanding them to move on and give the strangers permission to depart
in peace.
One of the priests attempted to expostulate, explaining that the girl
had entered the temple, thus committing an offense that could be atoned
for by blood alone.
Then Ras al Had retorted that the girl had been alarmed by the camels of
his train and had fled into the temple to escape from them. He further
added that infidels were sometimes permitted to visit the temple,
escorted by a military guard. In conclusion he stated that he was
indebted for his very life to the boy who stood ready to defend the
maiden, and, therefore, he was willing to surrender his life in behalf
of the lad.
They realized that he was in earnest, and those whom he had called by
name and ordered to depart began to slip away.
He then singled out three or four of his own camel drivers, who had
dropped back to see what all the uproar was about, and called them to
his side.
"Boy," he said, addressing Dick, "I will see that no harm comes to you
or to the girl. Trust me."
"Thank you," said Dick gratefully. "I think you took a hand just in time
to prevent those wolves from tearing us to pieces."
"Without doubt you would have met serious injury at their hands. These
men are my paid servants. We will escort you and protect you. Fear not."
The camel drivers gathered about Dick and Nadia. Ras al Had placed
himself at their head and ordered them to march.
Flinging his hands in the air, one of the priests stood firmly in the
path, refusing to move.
The eyes of Ras al Had shone strangely. He stepped close to the priest,
called him by name, and spoke in a low tone.
"It was thy brother whom I delivered from slavery in Nubia," he said.
"Then thou didst fall on my neck and weep and swear by the Prophet that
whatever I should ask of thee at any time thou wouldst grant. Hast
forgotten?"
"It is true, noble sheik," confessed the priest; "but tell me hast thou
forgotten thy religion that thou canst defend an infidel who has defiled
the temple of Mohammed?"
"Ras al Had never forgets. These infidels are mighty and powerful, and
should harm come to them through thee, then thou wilt be forced to make
reparation in the dust. For thy own good, stand aside and let them
pass."
There seemed to be great command in the dark eyes of the swarthy man,
and those eyes were fixed on the priest with burning insistence.
The priest hesitated a moment longer, and then, bowing low with dismay
and regret he could not utter, he stood aside.
Ras al Had marched on, his servants following, still with Dick and Nadia
in their midst.
They reached the camel train. Behind them the mob had melted away. The
danger was past.
"Dick," said Nadia, pressing Merriwell's arm, "I think that old man is
just splendid! I never dreamed a black man could be so fine!"
Ras al Had turned to them.
"Boy," he spoke, "it has been truly said that Ras al Had is one who
never forgets a debt. Yet when I gave you my word to defend you with my
sword and life should the time ever come that I found you in peril, I
little thought to what it would bring me. Still I have canceled the
debt, and I feel that I owe you nothing."
"You're all right, sheik!" exclaimed the boy enthusiastically. "I don't
know how we are going to thank you for----"
Ras al Had checked him with a gesture.
"I want no thanks. Let me caution you against wandering about Damascus
without escort or protection. It is a great folly. Where are your
friends?"
Dick explained how it happened that he and Nadia had been caught in such
a predicament.
The sheik gazed attentively at the girl and then shook his head soberly.
"A maid so beautiful is in great danger here, unless she be well
protected. She might disappear suddenly, and years of searching might
not disclose her fate. There are men in Damascus who could not look on
her without coveting possession of her. How simple it would be for one
of these buildings to swallow you both! You, boy, would meet a swift
death, and your body would be so completely destroyed that no trace of
it could ever be found. There are prisons in the city where dwell
beautiful maidens like her, given every luxury save liberty. Once they
have passed within the prison doors they may never again come forth."
Nadia shuddered and clung to Dick's arm.
"I have heard of such things," she said; "but I supposed the custom had
been abolished."
"This day," said Ras al Had, "a friend of mine from the interior has
arrived with many beautiful girls, the most of them Circassians. I spoke
with him as I was entering the city. He will take them to a certain
house, the location of which I know, and there they will be attended by
hairdressers and dressmakers, who will do everything possible to add to
their attractiveness. When they are prepared for inspection, certain
rich men will visit them and choose from among them, paying the price
demanded, after which no other man save their masters will ever look on
their faces."
"Perfectly dreadful!" gasped Nadia. "It makes me shiver to think what
would have happened had Hafsa Pasha been able to hoodwink me and my
brother."
The sheik gave her a swift, keen look.
"Hafsa Pasha?" he said, a strange intonation in his voice. "How know you
that man?"
"I met him on the steamer from Smyrna to Beirut."
"What happened?"
Nadia was confused.
"Why, he--he----"
"He made love to her," Dick explained. "He asked her to marry him."
"You knew him to be a Moslem?"
"I knew nothing at the time save what he told me of himself," answered
the girl. "The captain of the vessel told me that he had been banished
to Damascus by the sultan on account of some political intrigue, and
that he had a harem."
Ras al Had bowed.
"It is true. I know that man--I know him well! He takes good care to
avoid me. I was told by my friend, who had brought the girls from the
interior, that there was among them one very beautiful maiden whom he
hoped to sell to Hafsa Pasha for a handsome price."
Nadia shivered again.
"To think that I could even talk with a monster who buys human beings
like cattle!" she exclaimed.
"I have contemplated seeking the opportunity to meet Hafsa Pasha when he
comes for the Circassian maiden," said the sheik. "It is possible that I
may be there."
"It seems to me," observed Dick, "that you have no particularly friendly
feeling toward Mr. Hafsa."
"I have no reason to feel kindly toward him," confessed the Arab, in a
tone of much bitterness. "He once did my younger brother a great wrong.
It has been truly said that Ras al Had never forgets, and this wrong he
remembers. Some day Hafsa Pasha shall suffer for it, even as he caused
my brother to suffer."
"I don't like to be inquisitive," said Dick; "but my curiosity is
aroused, and I wonder how he wronged your brother."
"My brother sold him a cargo of fine rugs, silks, and many precious
stones. Hafsa Pasha is no true Mohammedan. He has lived much in the
Western countries. Otherwise he would not have denied the price he owed
for the goods he had received. He was powerful in a way, and my brother
disappeared. I demanded of Hafsa Pasha what had become of my brother,
but he swore he knew not. More than a year later I found my brother, a
slave and dying far beyond Bagdad, even near to Yezd, which is in the
Great Salt Desert. With his last words my brother declared that he
believed he was carried into slavery through the plotting and command of
Hafsa Pasha, who sought thus to get him out of the way. Thus, you see,
Hafsa Pasha escaped payment of the just debt he owed. There was no real
proof, but I am satisfied that my brother was right. I have sought
diligently to obtain the proof, that I might bring Hafsa Pasha to
justice. Even though I have failed in my efforts, never once have I
faltered in my resolve to bring punishment on the evildoer."
There was a sort of grim earnestness and intensity in the quiet words of
the old sheik, and Dick felt that Hafsa Pasha had made a very bitter and
dangerous enemy.
"Well, I hope you corner the old rascal in the end," said the boy. "But
we must get back to the bazaars. Dunbar and the professor will be
tearing the city up in search of us."
"I will send an escort with you," said Ras al Had. "Remember my words of
warning and be cautious. We may never meet again, but I feel that I have
canceled my debt to you, even as I shall some day make settlement with
Hafsa Pasha."
Ras al Had called four sturdy black men and bade them escort the boy and
girl back to the bazaars and from thence to their hotel, in case they
wished it.
Then he bade Dick and Nadia a dignified farewell.
The escort were four villainous-looking black rascals, and Nadia was
afraid of them; but Dick tried to reassure her, declaring that the
servants of Ras al Had were to be trusted, no matter how untrustworthy
they looked.
Here and there through the crooked, winding streets they made their way.
To Dick it seemed that they had covered a far greater distance than was
necessary in order to return directly to the bazaars; but he fancied the
black men were taking them by a round-about course in order to avoid the
vicinity of the temple where the trouble had taken place.
As they proceeded they were joined by a crooked, wizened old Turk, who
seemed to know the black men. He spoke to them one by one, but not a
word that he said reached the ears of the boy and girl.
Nadia shrank close to Dick, and the hand that clung to his arm trembled
a little.
"I don't like that man," she whispered. "Did you see how he looked at
me? I wish we were by ourselves. We do not need an escort."
Merriwell tried to reassure her, but he was not entirely easy in his
mind.
Finally he spoke to one of the black men, asking why it took so long to
reach the bazaars.
The fellow made some sort of an explanation in broken English, but
scarcely a word of it could Dick understand.
By this time they were in a quarter of the city that added to the
apprehension of the American boy. The people they passed stared at them
in a manner that was decidedly disagreeable, to say the least, and many
made remarks that were plainly of an insulting nature.
Finally Dick stopped.
"Look here," he said; "we will go it alone the rest of the way. We are
much obliged for your kindness, but we don't need you any more."
Then the old Turk approached him and mildly but firmly insisted that it
would be quite suicidal to dismiss the escort in such a manner and in
such a quarter of the city.
"When did you get into this game?" demanded the boy, somewhat warmly.
"It doesn't strike me that you have anything to say about it."
Then the crooked old fellow protested that he was a friend to Ras al Had
and was working entirely in the interest of the sheik.
Dick's suspicions were redoubled, instead of allayed.
"That may be true," he said; "but we don't propose to trouble Ras al
Had's friends any more. Take the whole bunch and go."
"And never again have the courage to look the great sheik in the face?"
said the Turk. "No; not until I know you are safe with your friends will
I abandon you."
Dick turned to one of the black men, who seemed to be something of a
leader.
"Say, you," he exclaimed, "I want you to shake yourself and get out of
this right away! Understand? Take this befezzed old relic with you, too.
Git!"
The man shook his head and held up his hands as if he did not
understand.
Nadia's alarm had increased. She saw that Dick was rapidly becoming very
angry, and she urged him to hold his temper.
"I'll travel no farther with these men!" declared the determined boy.
The Turk said something to the black men, and they began to crowd about
Dick and the girl.
Seeing this, the boy reached for his pistol.
Before he could draw the weapon, however, he was seized by the throat by
a huge pair of hands, the owner of which was behind him. Another of the
black rascals clutched his arm and prevented him from producing the
weapon.
The hands which clasped the boy's neck were very powerful, and the
massive fingers shut off his wind in a moment. The pressure thus exerted
seemed crushing flesh and bone.
He exerted all his strength in the effort to break away, but realized
that he had very little chance to succeed.
Through a haze he saw Nadia struggling weakly in the grip of the crooked
Turk and one of the black men. There was a sudden roaring in his ears,
but through it came a sharp sound that he knew was a scream from the
lips of the unfortunate girl.
A feeling of desperate fury shot through his heart. The very fact that
he felt himself impotent to aid Nadia thrilled him with a horrible
madness. He remembered the warning words of Ras al Had.
But had the old sheik been sincere? Many a time he had heard that no
Moslem ever felt himself bound in honor to an infidel. In fact, to
deceive and betray an infidel was regarded as a commendable and
praiseworthy proceeding.
Had not Ras al Had played a crafty game from the start? It was truly
surprising that the sheik had dared array himself against the priests
before the temple. Had he not done so in order to deceive and betray the
infidels more completely? Was it not possible the old scoundrel had
realized that any harm befalling the boy and girl in the vicinity of the
bazaars might bring swift retribution on the offenders, for which reason
he had entered into the affair, held the mob in check for the time
being, finally to decoy the victims into a part of the city where they
could be murdered with very little chance that the crime would ever be
punished?
This hazy thought caused young Merriwell to twist and squirm in the
clutch of those iron hands, making a last deranged effort to free
himself that he might fight for her.
His senses reeled and a black cloud, riven by flashes of lightning,
descended upon him. He knew he was losing consciousness. Heavy bells
rang in his ears. Somewhere in the distance cannon boomed. Then these
sounds died away. The harsh bells and booming cannon were silenced by an
organ peal. The music thrilled through him. It sank to a soft, throbbing
strain and then receded into the distance, growing fainter and fainter.
Peace fell on him. He struggled no more.
Was it death?