THE SHEIK DEMURS.
No one on board the dahabeah had entertained even a suspicion of danger.
Winston Bey knew well the unreliable character of the natives of certain
villages, but even he did not dream that the steamer would be molested
or its passengers annoyed; therefore, the surprise was complete.
Mrs. Everingham, awakening with a start, heard the patter of many feet
upon the deck and saw a man advancing into the cabin where she and Aneth
had been sleeping.
Her first inspiration was to scream; but instead she reached beneath her
pillow and drew out a small revolver, with which she fired two shots in
rapid succession point blank at the intruder.
Neither bullet took effect, but they startled Kāra as much as her
vigorous screams, in which Aneth now joined. He retreated hastily from
the cabin, thus allowing Mrs. Everingham to close the door and secure it
with a heavy bar provided for that purpose.
The after-cabin having been given up to the women, Winston and Lord
Roane occupied a smaller cabin forward. Between the two were the kitchen
and the engine-room. As the natives boarded the steamer near the bow,
their first act was to drop into the forward cabin and seize the white
men before they were fairly awake. Roane offered no resistance whatever,
but Winston struggled so energetically that it took three of the men,
headed by the gigantic sheik, to secure him. It required but a few
moments to bind the prisoners securely hand and foot, and then they were
left in their bunks under a guard of natives, who held their bare knives
in their hands in readiness to prevent any possible escape.
The four Arabs of Winston’s crew were easily overcome, and by the time
that Kāra arrived forward they laid upon the deck carefully pinioned.
There had been no bloodshed at all, and the steamer was now entirely in
the control of Kāra and his mercenaries.
“All right,” said the sheik, nodding his satisfaction as the Egyptian
approached. “It was very easy, my prince. The two white men are below,
and the boat is ours.”
Kāra, by the dim light of a lantern, peered into the faces of his
prisoners.
“Where is the dragoman?” he asked. “Did you kill him, as I commanded you
to do?”
“We had not that pleasure,” returned the sheik, “for he was not on
board.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure, my prince.”
“He may be in hiding. Search every part of the steamer thoroughly except
the cabin of the women.”
The sheik shrugged his shoulders, but gave the command to his men. They
examined every possible hiding-place without finding the dragoman.
Meanwhile Kāra squatted upon the deck, thinking earnestly of what his
future action should be, while the silent sheik sat beside him with
composed indifference. When the Arabs returned from their unsuccessful
quest, the Egyptian said to his ally:
“Let your men watch the prisoners until morning. We can do nothing more
at present.”
So they stretched themselves upon the deck and rested until daybreak.
As soon as it was light enough to distinguish objects readily, Kāra
arose and ordered Winston and Lord Roane brought upon deck. There they
saw the Egyptian for the first time and understood why they had been
attacked.
“I suspected that I owed this little diversion to you,” said Winston,
glaring angrily upon his enemy. “Perhaps you do not realize, Prince
Kāra, that by this lawless act you have ruined yourself and your
career.”
“No,” returned Kāra, smiling; “I do not realize that.”
“These things are not tolerated in Egypt to-day,” continued the Bey.
“Not if they are known,” admitted Kāra.
“Do you think, sir, that I will remain silent?” demanded Winston,
indignantly.
“Yes.”
“And why?”
“Because I have no intention of permitting you to return to Cairo.
Understand me, Winston Bey--I entertain no personal enmity toward you;
but you saw fit to interfere with my purposes, and in doing so destroyed
yourself. Having been lawless enough to capture your boat, an outrage
only justified by my desire to obtain possession of the persons of Aneth
Consinor and Lord Roane, I am compelled, in order to protect myself, to
silence every person aboard who might cause me future annoyance.
Therefore, it is necessary to kill you.”
“You dare not!”
“You misjudge me,” answered Kāra, coolly; “but I shall be glad to
furnish you immediate proof of my sincerity.” Turning to Antar, he said:
“Comrade, oblige me by placing your knife in the heart of Winston Bey.”
The sheik did not move.
“Well?” cried Kāra, impatiently.
“It is not in the compact,” returned the imperturbable Arab.
“You are wrong,” said the Egyptian, sharply. “It was fully understood
you should obey my commands, especially as to killing those of my
enemies whom I desired to silence.”
“My brother will remember,” returned the sheik, “that there was also
another understanding--a little matter relating to certain jewels and
piastres.”
“You shall have them!”
“And you shall be obeyed--when I have them.”
Winston smiled, and Kāra saw it and uttered a curse.
“Will you thwart me now, when it is too late for either of us to retreat
with safety?” he asked Antar, angrily.
“By no means. I do not object to the killing, believe me, my brother;
but my people are poor, and the money you have promised them will do
much to ease their sufferings. Let me but see the gems and the piastres
and all your desires shall be gratified.”
Winston looked at the gigantic Arab closely. He seemed to remember the
man, but could not place him, for Antar had not only trimmed his gray
beard, but had dyed it a deep black. Still, all natives are crafty and
covetous, and the words he had overheard gave him an idea.
“Listen, my sheik,” he said in Arabic. “If it is money you wish, I will
double Kāra’s offer to you. It is but natural that a man will pay more
for life than another will pay for revenge. State your price, and the
sum shall be yours.”
Antar turned toward the Egyptian, an expression of satisfaction upon his
keen features.
“My brother will answer,” he said.
“This is absurd,” declared Kāra. “Winston Bey but trifles with you. His
money is all in Cairo. When you go there to get it, he will throw you
into prison, and your people will be destroyed and their houses torn
down to satisfy the Government police.”
“The noble sheik is no fool,” observed Winston. “He will keep us in his
power, closely guarded, until he has sent to Cairo and obtained the
money. Also, I will promise not to betray him, and my word is as good as
that of Prince Kāra.”
“But why should he go to Cairo at all?” asked the Egyptian. “If he will
but come with me to Fedah he shall have his price. Not all of Winston
Bey’s wealth can approach the magnificence of the treasure I will place
in Antar’s hands.”
The eyes of the sheik sparkled.
“Good!” he exclaimed.
“You will be faithful to me?” asked Kāra.
“Why not?”
“There is much treasure at my command. Not a mere handful of gems shall
be yours, but enough to make your tribe wealthy for all time to come.”
“I believe that my brother speaks truth.”
“Then,” said Kāra, relieved, “I ask you to kill Winston Bey as a proof
of your confidence in me. The others may live until we get to Fedah.”
“Tah! What is the use of dividing the ceremony?” returned the sheik,
with a gesture of indifference. “I like not this pig-sticking in
sections. It means cleaning one’s knife several times instead of once.
Be patient, my brother. When we have arrived at Fedah and our friendship
is further cemented by your royal generosity, then will I accomplish all
the killing in a brief space and have done with it. Is it not so?”
Kāra hesitated, but saw clearly that the wily sheik would not trust him.
Moreover, he feared that Winston’s eager offers to outbid him, if
persistently repeated, might prove effectual unless he carried out his
own promises to the greedy Arab. He had not expected to pay Antar any
great price for his services, and in the beginning intended that the
“handful” of gems would be a very small one; but Antar had entrapped him
cleverly, and he now realized he must expend an exorbitant sum to induce
the old sheik to obey his orders.
After all, that did not matter. The entire treasure had been Hatatcha’s
before it descended to him, and a portion of it would be well expended
in securing her vengeance. He alone knew that the hoard was practically
inexhaustible, and he might even bury the big Arab in jewels and golden
ornaments and still have left more than he could use in his own
lifetime.
So he agreed, with assumed content, to Antar’s proposition, and
Abdallah, the engineer, was released from his bonds and instructed to
start the dahabeah upon its voyage up the river. It would be thirty
hours before they could hope to reach Fedah.
Roane and Winston were permitted to remain upon deck, but were tied to
their chairs and carefully guarded. Breakfast was served, and Kāra
accompanied the Arab who carried the tray to the cabin of the women. The
Egyptian had not disturbed them since the night before, well knowing
they had made themselves as secure as he could have done.
He rapped boldly upon the door and said:
“Let me in.”
“Who is it?” asked Mrs. Everingham.
“Prince Kāra.”
“By what right do you annoy us with your presence aboard this boat?” she
continued.
“That I will explain when you permit me to see you,” he answered.
For a few moments there was silence.
“Your breakfast is here, and the servant is waiting for you to open the
door,” continued Kāra.
Somewhat to his surprise the bar was removed, and Aneth threw the door
wide open.
“One moment, please!” cried Mrs. Everingham, and as Kāra was about to
enter he saw the lady standing in the middle of the cabin with her
revolver pointed toward him.
“I was so startled last night that I missed you,” she said, calmly; “but
I am almost certain I can shoot straight this morning.”
Kāra shrank back a little.
“Why do you fear me?” he asked.
“I don’t,” she answered. “It is you who fear, and with reason. But I do
not trust you, because you have convinced me that you are a consummate
scoundrel. If you have anything to say to me or to Miss Consinor, we are
prepared to hear it; otherwise you had better go, for I am extremely
nervous and my finger is upon the trigger.”
“I have taken possession of this steamer,” he announced. “All on board
are now my prisoners.”
“How dramatic!” she returned, with a laugh. “May I ask what you intend
to do with us? Will you scuttle the ship, or raise the black flag and
become a modern pirate of the Nile? Come, my buccaneer, confide to us
your secret?”
“In due time, madam, you shall know all, and more, perhaps, than will
please you,” he answered, furious at her gibes. “One thing, however, is
certain. Miss Consinor”--and here he cast an evil glare at the girl, who
stood with white face in the background--“shall not escape me again. I
intend to take her to Cairo and keep her secure in my villa. As for you,
Mrs. Everingham, your life hangs by a thread. If I could depend upon
your discretion and silence I might spare you; but you are clever enough
to understand that I cannot afford to take chances of future
accusations.”
“My man,” replied Mrs. Everingham, “your own miserable life is at this
moment not worth a farthing’s purchase. If you dare to molest this girl
or me again, or even show your ugly face in this cabin, I swear to shoot
you upon the spot. Here, Selim, bring in that tray. Place it on the
table; that will do. Now, Prince Kāra, I will give you one minute to
disappear.”
That was too long; he was gone in an instant, his face contorted with
rage as he cursed the woman who had so successfully defied him.
On deck he met the sheik.
“Tell the engineer to urge the boat forward,” he said; “we must keep
moving day and night until we reach Gebel Abu Fedah.”
“Very good,” responded the sheik. “I am even more impatient than you
are, my brother. It is only the prisoners, who have been watching us
sharpen our knives, that are in no hurry.”