SERGIUS AND NILO TAKE UP THE HUNT
We have seen the result of Sergius' interview with the Prince of India,
and remember that it was yet early in the morning after Lael's
disappearance when, in company with Nilo, he bade the eccentric
stranger adieu, and set forth to try his theory respecting the lost
girl.
About noon he appeared southwest of the Hippodrome in the street
leading past the cistern-keeper's abode. Nilo, by arrangement, followed
at a distance, keeping him in sight. By his side there was a fruit
peddler, one of the every-day class whose successors are banes of life
to all with whom in the modern Byzantium a morning nap is the sweetest
preparation for the day.
The peddler carried a huge basket strapped to his forehead. He was also
equipped with a wooden platter for the display of samples of his stock;
and it must be said the medlars, oranges, figs of Smyrna, and the
luscious green grapes in enormous clusters freshly plucked in the
vineyards on the Asiatic shore over against the Isles of the Princes,
were very tempting; especially so as the hour was when the whole world
acknowledges the utility of lunching as a stay for dinner.
It is not necessary to give the conversation between the man of fruits
and the young Russian. The former was endeavoring to sell. Presently
they reached a point from which the cistern-keeper was visible, seated,
as usual, just within the door pommelling the pavement. Sergius stopped
there, and affected to examine his companion's stock; then, as if of a
mind, he said:
"Oh, well! Let us cross the street, and if the man yonder will give me
a room in which I can eat to my content, I will buy of you. Let us try
him."
The two made their way to the door.
"Good day, my friend," Sergius said, to the keeper, who recognized him,
and rising, returned the salutation pleasantly enough.
"You were here yesterday," he said, "I am glad to see you again. Come
in."
"Thank you," Sergius returned. "I am hungry, and should like some of
this man's store; but it is uncomfortable eating in the street; so I
thought you might not be offended if I asked a room for the purpose;
particularly as I give you a hearty invitation to share the repast with
me."
In support of the request the peddler held the platter to the keeper.
The argument was good, and straightway, assuming the air of a
connoisseur, the master of the house squeezed a medlar, and raising an
orange to his nose smelt it, calculated its weight, and answered: "Why,
yes--come right along to my sitting-room. I will get some knives; and
when we are through, we will have a bowl of water, and a napkin. Things
are not inviting out here as they might be."
"And the peddler?" Sergius inquired.
"Bring him along. We will make him show us the bottom of his basket. I
believe you said you are a stranger?"
Sergius nodded.
"Well, I am not," the keeper continued, complacently. "I know these
fellows. They all have tricks. Bring him in. I have no family. I live
alone."
The monk acknowledged the invitation, but pausing to allow the peddler
to enter first, he at the same time lifted his hat as if to readjust
it; then a moment was taken to make a roll of the long fair hair, and
tuck it securely under the hat. That finished, he stepped into the
passage, and pursued after his host through a door on the left hand;
whereupon the passage to the court was clear.
Now the play with the hat was a signal to Nilo. Rendered into words, it
would have run thus: "The keeper is employed, and the way open. Come!"
And the King, on the lookout, answered by sauntering slowly down,
mindful if he hurried he might be followed, there being a number of
persons in the vicinity.
At the door, he took time to examine the front of the house; then he,
too, stepped into the passage and through it, and out into the court,
where, with a glance, he took everything in--paved area, the curbing
about the stairway to the water, the faces of the three sides of the
square opposite that of the entrance, all unbroken by door, window, or
panel, the sedan in the corner, the two poles lashed together and on
end by the sedan. He looked behind him--the passage was yet clear--if
seen coming in, he was not pursued. There was a smile on his shining
black face; and his teeth, serrated along the edges after the military
fashion in Kash-Cush, displayed themselves white as dressed coral.
Evidently he was pleased and confident. Next he went to the curb, shot
a quick look down the steps far as could be seen; thence he crossed to
the sedan, surveyed its exterior, and opened the door. The interior
appearing in good order, he entered and sat down, and closing the door,
arranged the curtain in front, drew it slightly aside and peeped out,
now to the door admitting from the passage, then to the curbing. Both
were perfectly under view.
When the King issued from the chair, his smile was broader than before,
and his teeth seemed to have received a fresh enamelling. Without
pausing again, he proceeded to the opening of the cistern, and with his
hands on the curbing right and left, let himself lightly down on the
four stones of the first landing; a moment, and he began descent of the
steps, taking time to inspect everything discernible in the shadowy
space. At length he stood on the lower platform.
He was now in serious mood. The white pillars were wondrous vast, and
the darkness--it may be doubted if night in its natural aspects is more
impressive to the savage than the enlightened man; yet it is certain
the former will take alarm quicker when shut in by walls of artful
contrivance. His imagination then peoples the darkness with spirits,
and what is most strange, the spirits are always unfriendly. To say now
that Nilo, standing on the lower platform, was wholly unmoved, would be
to deny him the sensibilities without which there can be none of the
effects usually incident to courage and cowardice. The vastness of the
receptacle stupefied him. The silence was a curtain he could feel; the
water, deep and dark, looked so suggestive of death that the
superstitious soul required a little time to be itself again. But
relief came, and he watched intently to see if there was a current in
the black pool; he could discover none; then, having gained all the
information he could, he ascended the steps and lifted himself out into
the court. A glance through the passage--another at the sky--and he
entered the sedan, and shut himself in.
The discussion of the fruit in the keeper's sitting-room meantime was
interesting to the parties engaged in it. With excellent understanding
of Nilo's occupation in the court, Sergius exerted himself to detain
his host--if the term be acceptable--long as possible.
Fortunately no visitors came. Settling the score, and leaving a
profusion of thanks behind him, he at length made his farewell, and
spent the remainder of the afternoon on a bench in the Hippodrome.
Occasionally he went back to the street conducting to the cistern, and
walked down it far enough to get a view of the keeper still at the door.
In the evening he ate at a confectionery near by, prolonging the meal
till near dusk, and thence, business being suspended, he idled along
the same thoroughfare in a manner to avoid attracting attention.
Still later, he found a seat in the recess of an unused doorway nearly
in front of the house of such interest to him.
The manoeuvres thus detailed advise the reader somewhat of the
particulars of the programme in execution by the monk and Nilo; nor
that only--they notify him of the arrival of a very interesting part of
the arrangement. In short, it is time to say that, one in the recess of
the door, the other shut up in the sedan, they are both on the lookout
for Demedes. Would he come? And when?
Anticipating a little, we may remark, if he comes, and goes into the
cistern, Nilo is to open the street door and admit Sergius, who is then
to take control of the after operations.
A little before sunset the keeper shut his front door. Sergius heard
the iron bolt shoot into the mortice. He believed Demedes had not seen
Lael since the abduction, and that he would not try to see her while
the excitement was up and the hunt going forward. But now the city was
settled back into quiet--now, if she were indeed in the cistern, he
would come, the night being in his favor. And further, if he merely
appeared at the house, the circumstance would be strongly corroborative
of the monk's theory; if he did more--if he actually entered the
cistern, there would be an end of doubt, and Nilo could keep him there,
while Sergius was bringing the authorities to the scene. Such was the
scheme; and he who looks at it with proper understanding must perceive
it did not contemplate unnecessary violence. On this score, indeed, the
Prince of India's significant reminder that he had found Nilo a savage,
had led Sergius to redoubled care in his instructions.
The first development in the affair took place under the King's eye.
Waiting in ambush was by no means new to him. He was not in the least
troubled by impatience. To be sure, he would have felt more comfortable
with a piece of bread and a cup of water; yet deprivations of the kind
were within the expectations; and while there was a hope of good issue
for the enterprise, he could endure them indefinitely. The charge given
him pertained particularly to Demedes. No fear of his not recognizing
the Greek. Had he not enjoyed the delight of holding him out over the
wall to be dropped to death?
He was eager, but not impatient. His chief dependence was in the sense
of feeling, which had been cultivated so the slightest vibration along
the ground served him in lieu of hearing. The closing of the front door
by the keeper--felt, not heard--apprised him the day was over.
Not long afterward the pavement was again jarred, bringing a return of
the sensations he used to have when, stalking lions in Kash-Cush, he
felt the earth thrill under the galloping of the camelopards stampeded.
He drew the curtain aside slightly, just as a man stepped into the
court from the passage. The person carried a lighted lamp, and was not
Demedes.
The cistern-keeper--for he it was--went to the curbing slowly, for the
advance airs of the gale were threatening his lamp, and dropped
dextrously through the aperture to the upper landing.
In ambush the King never admitted anything like curiosity. Presently he
felt the pavement again jar. Nobody appeared at the passage. Another
tremor more decided--then the King stepped softly from the sedan, and
stealing barefooted to the curbing looked down the yawning hole.
The lamp on the platform enabled him to see a boat drawn up to the
lower step, and the stranger in the act of stepping into it. Then the
lamp was shifted to the bow of the boat--oars taken in hand--a push
off, and swift evanishment.
We, with our better information of the devices employed, know what a
simple trick it was on the keeper's part to bring the vessel to him--he
had but to pull the right string in the right direction--but Nilo was
left to his astonishment. Stealing back to his cover, he drew the door
to, and struggled with the mystery.
Afterwhile, the mist dissipated, and a fact arose plainer to him than
the mighty hand on his knee. The cistern was inhabited--some person was
down there to be communicated with. What should the King do now?
The quandary was trying. Finally he concluded to stay where he was. The
stranger might bring somebody back with him--possibly the lost
child--such Lael was in his thoughts of her.
Afterwhile--he had no idea of time--he felt a shake run along the
pavement, and saw the stranger appear coming up the steps, lamp in
hand. Next instant the person crawled out of the curbing, and went into
the house through the passage doorway. The King never took eye from the
curbing--nobody followed after--the secret of the old reservatory was
yet a secret.
Again Nilo debated whether to bring Sergius in, and again he decided to
stay where he was.
Meantime the cloud which the Prince of India had descried from the roof
of his house arrived on the wings of the gale. Ere long Sergius was
shivering in the recess of the door. For relief he counted the beads of
his rosary, and there was scarcely a Saint in the calendar omitted from
his recitals. If there was potency in prayers the angels were in the
cistern ministering to Lael.
The street became deserted. Everything living which had a refuge sought
it; yet the gale increased: it howled and sang dirges; it started the
innumerable loose trifles in its way to waltzing over the bowlders;
every hinged fixture on the exposed house-fronts creaked and banged.
Only a lover would voluntarily endure the outdoors of such a night--a
lover or a villain unusually bold.
Near midnight--so Sergius judged--a dull redness began to tinge the
cloud overhead, and brightening rapidly, it ere long cast a strong
reflection downward. At first he was grateful for the light;
afterwhile, however, he detected an uproar distinguishable from the
wind; it had no rest or lulls, and in its rise became more and more a
human tone. When shortly people rushed past his cover crying fire, he
comprehended what it was. The illumination intensified. The whole city
seemed in danger. There were women and children exposed; yet here he
was waiting on a mere hope; there he could do something. Why not go?
While he debated, down the street from the direction of the Hippodrome
he beheld a man coming fast despite the strength of the gusts. A cloak
wrapped him from head to foot, somewhat after the fashion of a toga,
and the face was buried in its folds; yet the air and manner suggested
Demedes. Instantly the watcher quit arguing; and forgetful of the fire,
and of the city in danger, he shrank closer into the recess.
The thoroughfare was wider than common, and the person approaching on
the side opposite Sergius; when nearer, his low stature was observable.
Would he stop at the cistern-keeper's?
Now he was at the door!
The Russian's heart was in his mouth.
Right in front of the door the man halted and knocked. The sound was so
sharp a stone must have been used. Immediately the bolt inside was
drawn, and the visitor passed in.
Was it Demedes? The monk breathed again--he believed it was--anyhow the
King would determine the question, and there was nothing to do meantime
but bide the event.
The sedan, it hardly requires saying, was a much more comfortable
ambush than the recess of the door. Nilo merely felt the shaking the
gale now and then gave the house. So, too, he bade welcome to the glare
in the sky for the flushing it transmitted to the court. Only a wraith
could have come from or gone into the cistern unseen by him.
The clapping to of the front door on the street was not lost to the
King. Presently the person he had seen in the boat at the foot of the
steps again issued from the passage, lamp in hand as before; but as he
kept looking back deferentially, a gust leaped down, and extinguished
the flame, compelling him to return; whereupon another man stepped out
into the court, halting immediately. Nilo opened a little wider the gap
in the curtain through which he was peeping.
It may be well to say here that the newcomer thus unwittingly exposing
himself to observation was the same individual Sergius had seen
admitted into the house. The keeper had taken him to a room for the
rearrangement of his attire. Standing forth in the light now filling
the court, he was still wrapped in the cloak, all except the head,
which was jauntily covered with a white cap, in style not unlike a
Scotch bonnet, garnished with two long red ostrich feathers held in
place by a brooch that shot forth gleams of precious stones in artful
arrangement. Once the man opened the cloak, exposing a vest of
fine-linked mail, white with silver washing, and furnished with
epaulettes or triangular plates, fitted gracefully to the shoulders. A
ruff, which was but the complement of a cape of heavy lace, clothed the
neck.
To call the feeling which now shot through the King's every fibre a
sudden pleasure would scarcely be a sufficient description; it was
rather the delight with which soldiers old in war acknowledge the
presence of their foemen. In other words, the brave black recognized
Demedes, and was strong minded enough to understand and appreciate the
circumstances under which the discovery was made. If the savage arose
in him, it should be remembered he was there to revenge a master's
wrongs quite as much as to rescue a stolen girl. Moreover, the
education he had received from his master was not in the direction of
mercy to enemies.
The two--Demedes and the keeper--lost no time in entering the cistern,
the latter going first. When the King thought they had reached the
lower platform, he issued from the chair barefooted, and bending over
the curbing beheld what went on below.
The Greek was holding the lamp. The occupation of his assistant was
beyond comprehension until the boat moved slowly into view. Demedes
then set the lamp down, divested himself of his heavy wrap, and taking
the rower's seat, unshipped the oars. There was a brief conference; at
the conclusion the subordinate joined his chief; whereupon the boat
pushed off.
Thus far the affair was singularly in the line of Sergius'
anticipations; and now to call him in!
There is little room for doubt that Nilo was in perfect recollection of
the instructions he had received, and that his first intention was to
obey them; for, standing by the curbing long enough to be assured the
Greek was indeed in the gloomy cavern, whence escape was impossible
except by some unknown exit, he walked slowly away, and was in the
passage door when, looking back, he saw the keeper leaping out into the
court.
To say truth, the King had witnessed the departure of the boat with
misgivings. Catching the robbers was then easy; yet rescue of the girl
was a different thing. What might they not do with her in the meantime?
As he understood his master, her safety was even more in purpose than
their seizure; wherefore his impulse was to keep them in sight without
reference to Sergius. He could swim--yes, but the water was cold, and
the darkness terrible to his imagination. It might be hours before he
found the hiding-place of the thieves--indeed, he might never overtake
them. His regret when he stepped into the passage was mighty; it
enables us, however, to comprehend the rush of impetuous joy which now
took possession of him. A step to the right, and he was behind the
cheek of the door.
All unsuspicious of danger, the keeper came on; a few minutes, and he
would be in bed and asleep, so easy was he in conscience. The ancient
cistern had many secrets. What did another one matter? His foot was on
the lintel--he heard a rustle close at his side--before he could dart
back--ere he could look or scream, two powerful hands were around his
throat. He was not devoid of courage or strength, and resisted,
struggling for breath. He merely succeeded in drawing his assailant out
into the light far enough to get a glimpse of a giant and a face black
and horrible to behold. A goblin from the cistern! And with this idea,
he quit fighting, and sank to the floor. Nilo kept his grip
needlessly--the fellow was dead of terror.
Here was a contingency not provided for in the arrangement Sergius had
laid out with such care.
And what now?
It was for the King to answer.
He dragged the victim out in the court, and set a foot on his throat.
All the savage in him was awake, and his thoughts pursued Demedes.
Hungering for that life more than this one, he forgot the monk utterly.
Had he a plank--anything in the least serviceable as a float--he would
go after the master. He looked the enclosure over, and the sedan caught
his eye, its door ajar. The door would suffice. He took hold of the
limp body of the keeper, drew it after him, set it on the seat, and was
about wrenching the door away, when he saw the poles. They were twelve
or fourteen feet long and lashed together. On rafts not half so good he
had in Kash-Cush crossed swollen streams, paddling with his hands. To
take them to the cistern--to descend the steps with them--to launch
himself on them--to push out into the darkness, were as one act, so
swiftly were they accomplished. And going he knew not whither, but
scorning the thought of another man betaking himself where he dared
not, sustained by a feeling that he was in pursuit, and would have the
advantage of a surprise when at last he overtook the enemy, we must
leave the King awhile in order to bring up a dropped thread of our
story.