In the mystic haze of the slowly dying day, mounted on a _meheri_, or
swift camel, I carried my long rifle high above my head, and rode
speedily over the great silent wilderness of treacherous, ever-shifting
sand. Once I drew rein to listen, turning my eyes to the left, where
the distant serrated crests of the mountains of Nanagamma loomed forth
like giant shadows; but as nothing broke the appalling stillness, I, a
mere tribesman then, sped forward again, reaching a small oasis, where I
made my camel kneel, and then dismounted.
As I strode towards the lonely shrine of Sidi Okbar--a small doomed
building constructed of sun-dried mud, under which reposed the remains
of one of our most venerated marabouts--I fear my burnouse was brown,
ragged, and travel-stained; the haick that surrounded my face was torn
and soiled, and upon my feet were rough, heavy slippers, sadly the worse
for wear. The latter, however, I kicked off on approaching the shrine;
then, kneeling close to the sun-blanched wall, cast sand upon myself,
kissed the earth, and, drawing my palms down my face, repeated the
Testification. In fervent supplication I bowed repeatedly, and, raising
my voice until it sounded distinct on the still air, invoked the
blessing of Allah.
"O Merciful! O beneficent Grantor of Requests!" I cried; "O King of
the day of Faith, guide us, ere to-morrow's sun hath run its course,
into the path that is straight, and leadeth unto the _kasbah_ of our
enemies of Abea. Strengthen our arms, lead us in times of darkness and
in the hours of day, destroy our enemies, and let them writhe in
Al-Hawiyat, the place prepared for infidels, where their meat shall be
venomous serpents, and they shall slake their thirst with boiling
pitch."
Startled suddenly by a strange sound, I listened with bated breath. The
thought occurred to me that my words might have been overheard by some
spy, and instinctively my hand drew from my belt my _jambiyah_, the
long, crooked dagger that I always carried. Again a noise like a
deep-drawn sigh broke the silence, and I sprang to my feet and rushed
round to the opposite side of the building, just in time to see a
fluttering white robe disappearing in the gloom. Quick as lightning I
sprang towards it, and in twenty paces had overtaken the eavesdropper,
who, with a slight scream, fell to earth beneath my heavy hand.
"Rise!" I cried, roughly dragging the figure to its feet. "Thou son of
Eblis!" Next second, however, I discovered that the fugitive was a
woman, veiled, enshrouded in her haick, and wearing those baggy white
trousers that render the Arab females hideous when out of doors.
"Thou hast overheard my orison," I cried, raising my knife. "Speak!
speak! or of a verity will I strike!"
But the mysterious woman uttered no word, and in a frenzy of desperation
I tore the veil from her face.
Aghast I stood; the knife fell from my lingers. The countenance
revealed was amazingly beautiful, so charming, indeed, that instantly I
became entranced by its loveliness, and stood speechless and abashed.
She was not more than eighteen, and her features were regular, with a
fair complexion, a pair of brilliant dark eyes set well apart under
browns blackened by kohl, and a forehead half-hidden by strings of
golden sequins that tinkled musically each time she moved. Upon her
head was set jauntily a little scarlet _chachia_, trimmed heavily with
seed-pearls, while her neck was encircled by strings of roughly-cut
jacinths and turquoises, and in the folds of her silken haick there
clung the subtle perfumes of the harem.
Slowly she lifted her fine eyes, still wet with tears, to mine, and,
with her breast rising and falling quickly, trembled before me, fearing
my wrath.
"Loosen thy tongue's strings!" I cried at last, grasping her slim white
wrist with my rough, hard hand. "Thou art from Afo, the City in the
Sky, and thou hast gained knowledge of our intended attack?"
"Thy lips, O stranger, speak the truth," she faltered.
"Why art thou here, and alone, so far from thine home on the crest of
yonder peak?" I inquired, gazing at her in wonderment.
"I came hither for the same purpose as thyself," she answered seriously,
looking straight into my face,--"to crave Allah's blessing."
"Art thou a dweller in the house of grief?" I asked. "Tell me why thou
didst venture here alone."
She hesitated, toying nervously with the jewelled perfume-bottle
suspended at her breast; then she answered, "I--I am betrothed to a man
I hate. The Merciful Giver of Blessings alone can rescue me from a fate
that is worse than death--a marriage without love."
"And who is forcing thee into this hateful union? If it is thy father,
tell me his name?"
"Yes, it is my father. His name is Abd el Jelil ben Sef e' Nasr, Sultan
of Abea."
"The Sultan!" I cried in amazement. "Then thou art Kheira!" I added,
for the extraordinary beauty of the only daughter of the Sultan of Abea
was proverbial throughout the Great Desert, from Lake Tsad, even to the
Atlas.
"Yes," she replied. "And from thy speech and dress I know thou art of
the Azjar, our deadliest enemies."
"True," I answered. "To-morrow my tribe, to the number of ten thousand,
now lying concealed in the valley called Deforou, will swarm upon thine
impregnable city and--"
"Ten thousand?" she gasped, pale and agitated. "And thou wilt kill my
father, and reduce our people to slavery. Ah, no!" she added
imploringly. "Save us, O stranger! Our fighting men went south one
moon ago to collect the taxes at Dehagada, therefore we are unprotected.
What can I do--how can I act to save my father?"
"Dost thou desire to save him, even though he would force upon thee this
odious marriage?"
"I do," she cried. "I--I will save the City in the Sky at the cost of
mine own life."
"To whom art thou betrothed," I asked, tenderly taking her hand.
"To the Agha Hassan e Rawi, who dwelleth at Zongra, beyond the
Nanagamma. He is threescore years and ten, and 'tis said he treateth
his wives with inhuman cruelty. One of his slaves told me so."
I stood silent and thoughtful. Though I was a member of a tribe who
existed wholly upon loot obtained from the caravans and towns we
attacked, yet so earnestly did the Sultan's daughter appeal, that all
thought of preserving the secret of our intended attack by murdering her
disappeared, and I found myself deeply in love. Mine was a poor chance,
however, I told myself. The proud Sultan of Abea would never consent to
a brigand as a son-in-law, even if she looked upon me with favour.
"To-night, O Daughter of the Sun, we meet as friends; to-morrow as
enemies," I said. "Our spies have reported that thy city remaineth
undefended, and, alas! there is a blood-feud between my people and
thine; therefore, when the hosts of the Azjar enter with fire and sword,
few, I fear, will be spared. Wilt thou not remain here with my
tribesmen, and escape?"
"No," she answered proudly. "I am a woman of Afo, and I will return
unto my people, even though I fall before to-morrow's sundown under thy
merciless swords."
As she spoke, one hand rested upon her supple hip, and with the other
she pointed to the high, shadowy peak whereon stood the great white
stronghold known to the Kanouri people as The City in the Sky.
"But thou, who art like a sun among the stars, knowest our plans, and it
is my duty to kill thee," I said, hitching my burnouse about my
shoulders.
"I am in thine hands. If thou stainest them with my blood, thou wilt
ever have upon thy conscience the remembrance that thou hast taken the
life of one who was innocent of intrigue. If thou givest me freedom, I
shall have at least one brief hour of felicity with my people before--
before--"
And she sighed, without concluding the sentence.
"Thou, a fresh rose from the fountain-head of life, art in fear of a
double fate,--the downfall of to-morrow, and the marriage feast next
moon. Let not thy mind be troubled, for I stretch not forth the tongue
to blame," I said at last, endeavouring to smile. "In Ahamadou, of the
tribe Azjar, thou hast a devoted friend, and one who may peradventure
assist thee in a manner thou hast not dreamed. Therefore mount thine
horse and return with all speed to Afo--not, however, before thou hast
given me some little souvenir of this strange meeting."
"Thou slakest my thirst with the beverage of kindness!" she cried in
joy. "I knew when first I saw thee that thou wert my friend."
"Friend?--nay, lover," I answered gallantly, as, taking her tiny hand
again, I pressed her henna-stained nails softly to my lips. She blushed
and tried to draw away, but I held her firmly until she withdrew one of
her gold bangles from her wrist, and, with a smile, placed it upon mine.
"Behold!" she exclaimed with a merry, rippling laugh, "it is thy badge
of servitude to me!"
"I am a slave of the most handsome mistress in the world," I said
happily. Then, urging her to warn the Sultan of the intentions of the
Azjar, I kissed her once tenderly upon the lips, lifted her into the
saddle of her gaily caparisoned horse, and then she twisted her torn
veil about her face, and, giving me "Peace," sped away swift as an arrow
into the darkness, bearing intelligence that would cause the utmost
sensation in the mountain fastness.
"I love her," I murmured, when the sound of her horse's hoofs had died
away. "But how can I save her? To-morrow, when we enter Afo and loot
the Palace, she will be secured as slave. No!" I cried, "she shall
never fall into Nikale's brutal hands--never while I have breath!"
The sound of whispering caused me to fix my gaze upon a dark shadow
thrown by some ethel-bushes, and next second, half a dozen of my fellow
tribesmen advanced.
"So, dog of a spy! thou hast betrayed us!" cried a voice, which in a
moment I was startled to recognise as that of my enemy Mohammed El
Sfaski.
"Yes," the others shouted with one accord; "we watched the son of offal
speaking with the woman, and we overheard him telling her to warn the
Sultan!"
"Follow her on the wings of haste!" cried El Sfaski. "Kill her, for
death alone will place the seal of muteness upon the lips of such a
jade." And in a few seconds two black-veiled figures vaulted into their
saddles and tore past in the direction Kheira had disappeared.
"Speak!" thundered El Sfaski, who, with the others, had now surrounded
me. "Knowest thou the punishment of traitors?"
"Yes," I answered, hoarsely.
"Who is the woman whose blackness and deceit hath captivated thee?"
Three rapid shots sounded in the distance. The men had evidently
overtaken and murdered the daughter of the Sultan!