On the skirting of the desert lay a small Arab village—a place of a few
dilapidated huts, accommodating not more than a score of inhabitants.
For the most part these were people sunk to the lowest depths of
poverty, living in a state of dirt unimaginable to those who are not
acquainted with the Arab.
To this village came Harry and Braid and the elder guide. The headman
of the village came forward on their approach, followed by a few
children.
Fernando, who had an intimate knowledge of Arabic, was able to act as
interpreter. The headman said the village had been rich in the
possession of two camels; but, late on the previous evening, an Arab had
come from the plateau who had purchased one of these camels. Early that
morning had come another man, a white man—as he said—who, having
purchased the other, had set forward without delay in the same direction
as the Arab.
"Did the second man leave no message?" asked the guide.
The villager replied that the "white man" had left word that those who
followed him were to wait in the village until he returned. He expected
to be back that night with news of great importance.
Accordingly they halted for the afternoon, and, giving the villagers a
wide berth, camped upon the sand, lighting a fire, upon which they
cooked a meal.
"And all this time," said Harry, "von Hardenberg lies buried alive,
starving to death in the Caves of Zoroaster."
Fernando shook his head.
"He cannot starve," said he. "I noticed he wore a haversack well filled
with provisions. And I have heard it said that inside the vault is
water; a small spring bubbles up in a great basin, forming a little
fountain."
"You have seen it?" asked Harry.
"No," said the man; "but I know what I say is true. And, even were
there no water in the cave, the Prussian carried a water-bottle."
Harry Urquhart sighed.
"All this is like a dream," he exclaimed.
"The scoundrel deserves no better fate," said the guide, hard of heart
and pitiless where his enemies were concerned.
At nightfall they lay down to sleep, Jim Braid remaining on sentry for
the earlier part of the night. They had small reason to trust the
people of the village, who were not incapable of murdering them in the
night for the sake of their possessions.
At about ten o’clock Jim was alarmed by a peculiar grating sound quite
near to their camp. The moon had not yet risen, and, though he strained
his eyes in the direction from which the sound had come, he was able to
distinguish nothing. At last he rose to his feet and walked some little
distance from the fire. There he discovered a camel lying down upon the
ground, engaged in chewing a bundle of coarse hay. The camel had
appeared as if by magic.
Jim returned to the fire, and there to his amazement found Cortes
sitting before the embers.
"You have returned?" said he.
"Yes, I have returned."
"With news?"
"Of the Black Dog. Yonder in the desert is an ancient temple or mosque.
It stands in an oasis where there are palm-trees, and around which
melons grow. For many years it has been deserted. The sheikh himself
is there."
"We must awaken the others," said Braid.
"There is plenty of time," said the man. "He will not move before
daybreak. The night is yet young. We will surround the oasis at
sunrise and take him alive. Fernando must fulfil the oath he has made
to the saints."
Jim Braid had not such patience. With this news upon his mind he could
not stay idle while Harry and Fernando were asleep. Despite the advice
of Cortes, he awoke them both, and told them what had happened.
"We must start at once!" cried Harry.
"There is no haste," said Fernando, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But,
if you wish it, we will go."
They packed up their camp equipment and provisions, and their reserve
ammunition, and these they loaded upon the camel. Then they set forward
on their way, following a caravan route, whilst a full moon, red as
blood, crept over the horizon and illumined the wasteland like a
lantern.
In three hours they came to a place where a stone building, surrounded
by a dozen trees, stood forth against the moonlight. Near by a hyena
howled.
"The sheikh is within," said Cortes.
Drawing a little distance away, the four held consultation together. As
far as they could make out, there was but one entrance to the temple,
which was half in ruins. For all that, they thought it best to surround
the place, and it was finally agreed that Harry Urquhart should enter
the building, revolver in hand, whilst the other three guarded the walls
to prevent the Arab’s escape, should they have overlooked some other
means of exit.
Leaving his rifle behind, with his revolver ready loaded in his hand,
Harry passed on tiptoe through the entrance and found himself in a
shallow, darkened chamber.
Though there was no roof to the building, the adjacent palm-trees shut
out the light of the moon, and some seconds elapsed before the boy’s
eyes grew accustomed to the semi-darkness.
As far as he could make out, he was surrounded by high walls. Scattered
here and there about the floor, upon which the sand of the desert lay
like a thick, luxurious carpet, were great cylindrical boulders, which,
in former times, had evidently composed the pillars that supported the
roof. In the shadow of these boulders it was quite dark, and each
shadow was large enough to conceal the form of a man.
The boy decided to act with caution. With such an opponent as the
sheikh he knew he would be called upon to exercise not only promptitude
but cunning. It had not been without difficulty that he had managed to
persuade the guides to allow him to enter the temple. Fernando, who was
filled with a strong desire for vengeance, had wished for the honour for
himself. But Harry, as the leader of the expedition, would not give
way, agreeing that the moment he fired the elder guide should hasten to
his assistance.
Ready to fire at a moment’s notice, Harry set about a systematic search
of the ruined temple. Starting from the entrance, he worked his way
around the walls, holding as much as possible to the shadows. He looked
behind each boulder, he searched each crevice that appeared large enough
to admit the body of a man. In the end he returned to the entrance.
The place was evidently deserted.
His first thought was to leave the building, to tell Cortes that he had
been mistaken, that the sheikh was not there; but then he remembered how
seldom the judgment of either of the guides had been at fault, and,
assuring himself that he had overlooked some hiding-place, he began his
search anew.
He came to a place where a clump of cactus was growing against the wall,
and here he discovered what he had not noticed before. Under the cactus
plant was a little archway, a kind of tunnel, large enough to admit a
man crawling on hands and knees.
The boy was in two minds what to do. It was one thing to search from
boulder to boulder, ready to fire at a moment’s notice; it was another
to go head foremost on all-fours into what might prove to be a trap. If
the Arab was hiding on the other side of the wall, beyond the
cactus-bush—a stroke of the knife, and the matter would be ended. The
boy had need of all the courage he possessed. To go back to Jim and the
two guides would be to confess himself afraid.
Taking a deep breath, like a man about to dive, he lay flat upon his
face, and as silently as possible worked his way forward through the
sand, which was still warm from the rays of the sun of the preceding
day.
If there were many holes in the wall such as this, it was well three of
them had remained on guard without. Had all four entered the temple at
once, the sheikh, if he lay anywhere in hiding, had a sure way of
escape. Harry had no means of knowing whether the hole led to the
desert or to an inner room.
On the other side of the wall it was quite dark. The boy looked
overhead, and was able to see that he was sheltered by a roof—a roof in
which there were great holes, through which he could see the stars. He
could do nothing as yet, until his eyes had grown accustomed to the
darkness.
For some moments he lay still, his heart thumping against his ribs,
straining his ears to catch the slightest sound. From somewhere quite
near at hand, at first almost imperceptible but gradually growing
louder, came a low, soft, vibrating noise that seemed to proceed from
somewhere under the ground.
Harry thought he had heard something like it before; he could not
remember where. It was like the droning of a monster bee, or the noise
of a kettle on the point of boiling over, or else the purring of a cat.
How long the sound continued he was never able to say. It seemed to him
that he lay for an eternity, breathless, waiting for something to
happen, with the sound continuously in his ears. And then he became
aware of two great, yellow eyes, staring in the darkness, immobile, like
flaming lamps.