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Chapter Sixteen.
The Crescent of Glorious Wonders
Slowly the dead marabout stepped from his tomb and stood erect before me.
He glided mechanically, rigidly; his limbs did not bend, neither did his eyes move. In his grave-clothes he looked hideous, for so thin was his face that the bones could be seen beneath the brown withered skin, and his fleshless fingers with long nails had the appearance of talons.
“Thou hast never before witnessed the return of the dead to the world!” Zoraida exclaimed, noticing how scared I was.
“Is he really dead?” I asked, feeling somewhat sceptical, and beginning to think I was being imposed upon by some ingenious trickery.
“Dead? I call thee to witness!” she cried, and again drawing her long, keen dagger, she plunged it for the second time into his side.
There was no doubt that it had penetrated.
“Enough!” I gasped. “It is sickening.”
“Thou art at last convinced. Good!” she said, withdrawing the knife. Then, turning to the man she had recalled from the grave, she addressed him —
“Greeting to thee who followeth the guidance. Thou who hast enjoyed the pleasures of the Garden of Delights among the Companions of the Right Hand, and hast tasted the sweet waters of Salsabil, knowest the Secret of the Crescent. I, who fear the Omnipotent Avenger, command thee to intercede, that I may gain knowledge whereby to triumph over the Satans of Eblis – on whom may the Merciful not have mercy – and henceforward find perfect peace.”
Zoraida looked frightened herself, trembling like a slender cord suspended in a well, yet standing erect and queenly, with her jewels flashing and gleaming with dazzling brilliancy. To her words, however, the marabout made no reply. He remained motionless as a statue, gazing straight at me with his black glassy eyes.
Picking up an asp, a symbol of the Aïssáwà, that was darting over the carpet, Zoraida placed it in his icy hand. His bony fingers gripped the reptile as in a vice as slowly he moved across the strange apartment, and, without uttering a sound, sacrificed it on the blazing brazier.
Motioning me to kneel, and sinking upon her knees at my side, the woman I adored twisted a serpent around her head, and flung herself forward with her lips pressed to the sable carpet. Venomous reptiles were around us, but none ventured to attack. Indeed, she had kicked a viper aside with her bare foot as unconcernedly as if it had been an almond husk.
Strange passes were being made by the dead saint, standing at the altar with his back to us, and as he performed the mystic rite in silence I noticed that the smoke from the censer became thicker, and the fire in the brazier glowed until the iron seemed at white heat. Bowing slowly three times, the marabout stretched forth his hands above his head, and, turning, faced us.
Zoraida’s strained voice broke the silence.
“Blessed be he to whom the lifetime of the ruby is as the lifetime of the rose. O thou of exalted dignity, behold me, the least and least worthy of all them that praise the One worthy of praise. May I never endure prosperity as a gift from the accursed, for I seek the Secret of the Crescent, and ask of the One of unbounded favour and infinite bounty that which thou alone canst reveal.”
Again the marabout faced the altar, again he made passes over the fierce fire. The censer, still kept swinging by some unseen power, emitted a column of thick smoke, the odour of which, at first sulphurous, then sensuous and overpowering, caused me to feel intolerably drowsy. Then suddenly, with a noise as loud as the firing of a pistol, a great rent appeared in the stone front of the altar, as the slab of jasper broke in twain and a portion fell to the ground.
“Lo! it is at last revealed!” cried Zoraida, turning to me excitedly. “Life remaineth unto us! The poison will take no further effect, since we shall possess the Great Secret.”
Bowing to earth, the marabout approached close to the altar, and, dropping upon one knee, placed his hand in the aperture that had been so suddenly created. From the hole he drew forth a semicircular box of time-stained leather, about twelve inches across, and, opening it carefully, took therefrom a piece of rusted iron, shaped in the form of a crescent, about two inches wide in the centre and tapering to horns at each end. Its form was almost like a sickle, covered with strange hieroglyphics deeply graven, and it was about a quarter of an inch in thickness in every part, with a notch in the centre, as if another portion that had once been welded to it had been broken away.
Zoraida, still kneeling, eagerly watched the ghastly figure, who, bowing once again, held the strange object over the flame until it became heated.
“Beseech of the Power, O Sidi Mammar ben-Mokhala, if the secret may be wholly revealed unto the Roumi,” she said in a loud, clear voice.
Again the corpse that had been awakened from its sardonyx casket bowed and raised its hands aloft in obedience to her request, as we all three watched the censer. The thin column went slowly up, but the puff of thick smoke – that seemed to be regarded as a sign of the affirmative – was not emitted. Yet again the marabout bowed in silent intercession, but, though we waited for some minutes, no reply was vouchsafed.
“Thou art not a True Believer, O Cecil,” Zoraida said, in bitter disappointment. “The Great Secret, although revealed unto me, is withheld from thy knowledge. Alas that it should be so! Truly I bear the yoke of misfortune and taste the venom of grief.”
“Of what use is the Crescent?” I said, regarding with curiosity the rusted relic in the bony hand of the aged marabout.
“It is the will of the Unseen that thou mayest not know its Secret,” she replied. “Therefore I can reveal nothing.”
“But surely thou mayest tell me what it is for?”
“Not at present. Have patience until thou hast passed beyond the portals of this, the Kingdom of Shades.”
The silent priest, having heated the iron sufficiently, placed it upon a great gold tray, which Zoraida procured from a corner of the chamber and held for him; then she went out, bearing it with her, and announcing her intention of returning again immediately. Before the broken altar the man from the tomb stood immovable as a statue, his hands uplifted; and there was no sound save the hissing of a snake, hiding in a corner where the light did not penetrate.
Five minutes elapsed; they seemed an hour. When Zoraida re-entered, she bore the mysterious Crescent in her hand, and, strangely enough, her face had assumed much of its usual beauty. In her eyes a look of happiness and contentment had succeeded that expression of mad despair that had for the last half-hour spoiled her countenance, and she appeared to have derived every satisfaction from the strange rites she had practised.
“At last,” she cried, “the Great Secret is again mine! A year ago I discovered its existence, but the mere suggestion of its use seemed so utterly absurd, that I hesitated to seek death by the deadly potion until absolutely compelled.”
“Wert thou compelled to-night?” I ventured to inquire.
“Yes. Thou knowest I love thee. It was for thy sake that I sought the Great Secret. Thou wert not afraid, and gave me courage to knock at the gate of the dreaded Kingdom of Shades – to face the King of Terrors.”
“And yonder marabout? What of him?”
“He will return to the green banks of the river Al Cawthar, whence I called him to do my bidding and act as intermediary. See! I will send him back unto his sepulchre.”
Advancing to where the ghastly figure was standing with transfixed gaze without moving a muscle, she placed her hand firmly upon his shoulder.
“Know, O Sidi Mammar ben-Mokhala! thy work hath ended. Thou mayest return to the Shadow of the Lote Tree, and to the houris awaiting thee in the Garden beside the ever-flowing stream. May the blessing of Allah – Gracious Bestower of abundant benefits – ever rest upon thee and thy sons’ sons, and may the Destroyer of Mankind – on whom may the Merciful not have mercy – have no power over them. To thy grave I command thee to return, to rest until I again seek thine aid to triumph over Eblis.”
She grasped his cold thin hand, and he allowed himself to be led to the sarcophagus as meekly as a lamb. Into his stone coffin he stepped, and then sank back and disappeared. A few moments later, Zoraida beckoned me, and, standing beside the great sardonyx tomb, I peered in. The marabout lay stretched out as before, with wide-open, sightless eyes, and when I touched his cheek, it was hard and icy cold.
“There is no life. See!” she said, and, taking the knife, she once again plunged it into the corpse, afterwards withdrawing it and replacing it in the velvet sheath hanging at her girdle.
The old man had again returned to the Great Unknown, leaving Zoraida in possession of the curiously-wrought piece of metal, the fantastic inscription upon which puzzled me greatly.
Chapter Seventeen.
Strange Confidences
Gradually the golden censer ceased swinging; the fire in the brazier slowly died out, and the only light in the mysterious chamber was shed by the blue flame of the lamp that had guided our footsteps thither.
“Come, let us return,” she said, with a shudder. She took up the lamp and gazed into the cavernous darkness where the light did not penetrate. Suddenly, just as she was about to turn towards the door, she noticed my face, and became alarmed.
“Ah!” she cried, horrified. “I had forgotten thee. See; thine eyes are already glazing. Thou art dying!”
“Dying?” I gasped, holding my breath.
“Yes. Thou hast not learned the Secret of the Crescent, therefore thou art not rendered invulnerable against the hand of the King of Terrors. The poison hath done its work, and thy spark of life will die out like yonder brazier.”
“Why? Dost thou mean that thou hast actually murdered me?”
“I am no murderess,” she answered, reproachfully. “Thou hast submitted to the fatal inoculation, yet to every poison there is an antidote.” Then, drawing from her breast a little jewelled scent-bottle, about the size and shape of a pigeon’s egg, that was suspended by a chain around her neck, she removed the cap and shook into the hollow of her hand a small quantity of a dark brown powder.
“See! place this upon thy tongue and swallow it. Life and health will return to thee, and no ill effects wilt thou feel to-morrow of thy near approach to the Realm of Silence.”
She emptied it into my hand, and I swallowed it. The drug was bitter as gall and burned my mouth with fiery pungency, but ere I could make another observation, she had snatched up the lamp and was disappearing through the arched doorway. Following, we retraced our steps along the gloomy corridors, until at last she pushed open a door, and we found ourselves back again in the fragrant, luxurious harem.
Placing the lamp upon one of the little tables of ebony and pearl, she sank upon her divan exhausted, but still grasping the Crescent. Her long hair strayed over her shoulders and breast, and as she lay back in utter abandon she panted as if the strain of the past hour had been too great. Taking one of the great silken cushions I placed it tenderly under her wearied head, then sank upon my knee at her side.
“Tell me, Zoraida,” I said. “Tell me more of the strange scenes which I have just witnessed. What giveth thee the wondrous power to recall the dead from the grave, and invoke the assistance of the Great Unknown?”
Turning her brilliant eyes to mine, she hesitated.
“True, O Cecil,” she exclaimed, after a short, silent interval, “I have power that is not vouchsafed to some; but what thou hast seen to-night is not so wonderful as the secret contained within this piece of Damascus steel;” and she raised the Crescent for me to gaze upon.
“What secret can a piece of metal possibly contain?” I inquired, almost inclined to laugh at her earnest assertion.
“Thou thinkest that I fool thee,” she answered in a tone of reproach. “I tell thee, nevertheless, that knowledge of certain things giveth me power over both friend and enemy, power that I use at will for good or for evil. They who are cursed from my lips find no solace in this life, and descend to Eblis, where hot winds blow and there is no water; but those who have my blessing prosper, grow wealthy, and find peace.”
“Have I thy blessing?”
“Thou hast,” she murmured calmly, raising her lips to mine in a long, fierce caress. “My wishes are that thou mayest find happiness and riches, and that thou mayest receive the mercy of the Merciful is my heartfelt desire.”
“My only happiness is at thy side,” I said, with fervent promptitude.
“Ah! it is, alas! but brief,” she replied, sighing. “There are circumstances which prevent our marriage – even though we love each other so well.”
“Circumstances? What are they? Tell me. Thou always speakest in enigmas.”
“The first and most serious is the uncertainty of my life. Even to-night I may die;” and she raised her finely-moulded hand and thoughtfully examined my ancient signet ring upon her finger.
“Absurd!” I said. “What ground hast thou for such gloomy apprehensions? Art thou not safe here, surrounded by every luxury, with slaves to do thy bidding, and guarded from every evil?”
“Not from every evil,” she replied slowly. “When thou art absent, unhappiness consumeth me, and sadness, like a corrosive acid, eateth away all life and gaiety from mine heart.”
“But I may see thee more often, surely? How long wilt thou remain here?”
“I cannot tell,” she answered, speaking like one in a dream. “To-morrow thou mayest only find my corpse.”
“Bah! Why entertain Despair when Joy desireth to dwell within thine heart? We love each other, and may meet often, even though these mysterious circumstances of which thou speakest may, for a time, prevent our marriage.”
With a look of bitter sorrow she shook her head, replying, “No. We must not meet, or our friendship may prove fatal. When I invited thee hither, it was to impart to thee the secret of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders that would give thee power to work for our mutual benefit. But, alas! thou, an infidel, mayest not learn the extraordinary truth; the Unseen hath decreed that thou shalt remain in the outer darkness called Ignorance.”
“But how can I act in order to break down this strange barrier that precludeth our happiness? Hast thou – hast thou already a husband?”
She started. Her lips quivered, and the colour left her cheeks.
“If I had a husband, I should not ask thee hither, neither would I dare to enter the Kingdom of Shades with thee, a lover. To endeavour to learn my secret at present will be futile. Suffice it for thee to know that there is more mystery to penetrate than thou hast ever dreamed of, and that only by seeking knowledge from afar canst thou hope ever to bring us nearer to each other – to – ”
A sigh finished the sentence.
“I am prepared to do anything, to go anywhere, to render thee service,” I replied, pressing her jewelled fingers to my lips.
“Then hearken,” she said, raising herself upon her arm and looking earnestly at me. “The secret of this, the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, is forbidden thee; yet if thou darest to travel to a distant country far away over the waterless regions beyond the Touareg; if thou wilt penetrate the lands of hostile tribes in the disguise of a True Believer, thou canst learn that which will give thee wealth and power, and will at last bring us together.”
“To marry?”
“Yes. To marry.”
“Tell me all I must do,” I exclaimed excitedly. “Can I learn that which thou callest the Great Secret?”
“Alas! it is impossible,” she replied. “If thou wilt undertake this perilous journey, thou shalt carry with thee the Crescent of Glorious Wonders as my pledge that I do not deceive thee, and as a talisman which, if thou canst learn its secret, will make thee wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice.”
“But what of thyself – what of happiness with thee?”
“Until thou hast accomplished thy mission, I shall remain with my clansmen awaiting thee. Remember, whatever gossip thou mayest hear, or whatever may be revealed to thee about myself, seek no explanation. Set out upon thy journey as soon as possible, and travel on the wings of haste, for the way is long and the approach difficult. My movements concern thee not until thy return, for although to-night thou art here in the harem, do not forget the awful fate that awaiteth women of Al-Islâm who hold converse with Infidels. Therefore, before I give thee instructions, swear by thine own Deity, thine Allah, to heed nothing that thou mayest see or hear concerning me, but perform thy journey speedily, and learn the Great Secret ere thou seekest any explanation.”
“I swear I will obey thee unswervingly. I will act upon thy commands as blindly and devotedly as I have to-night.”
“Then know, O Cecil,” she said, regaining her feet slowly and standing erect before me, “there is but one spot on earth where the Great Secret may be imparted unto thee, now that it hath been withheld even at the portal of the Land of Shades. Before thou mayest again enter my presence, thou must have gained the power and the riches that it can bestow. Whilst thou art in the distant Desert I shall not forget thee; it is even possible that secret communications may pass between us, for do not forget that in future a fatal affinity existeth between our souls, and that, irrespective of distance, we may have a dream-like consciousness of each other’s well-being.” Her dark eyes fixed upon me seemed to hold me with a strange magnetism. Truly I was under her spell. Even in the brief space that had elapsed, she had now entirely reassumed her marvellous beauty. Stretching forth her hand she poured water from an ewer of chased silver into two drinking-cups. Over them both she passed her fingers swiftly, and then sipped one of them. The sweet odours that hung about the harem had caused a dryness in my throat, and, raising the other cup to my lips, I took several gulps, while she regarded me keenly.
“Shall I always know thy whereabouts?” I asked eagerly.
“No. There will be a certain affinity between our thoughts, but I shall remain hidden from thee until thou hast returned.”
For a few moments we were silent. She was no longer haggard and cold as she had been while the poison coursed through her veins, but the rose-garden of her beauty had forthwith recovered its freshness; in the delicate, rounded limbs and bust there glowed the natural warmth and yielding softness of flesh and blood. Her great lustrous eyes, standing well apart under her darkened brows, the broad white forehead, the perfect nose, the small, well-formed mouth, the pearly teeth, the rounded chin, each added grace to grace. Her beauty was perfect.
“Wilt thou remain here, or go back to the Desert with thy tribe?” I asked, gazing at her enraptured.
“To – to the Desert – peradventure,” she replied hesitatingly. “If the homards are thrown off our scent.”
“What! are thy people about to resume their murderous marauding expeditions?” I asked in surprise.
“I – I know not, Cecil,” she replied, laying her hand upon my arm. “I would prevent their terrible crimes if I could, but, alas! it is impossible. Thou knowest not in what constant peril I exist, or – or how unhappy is my life. A single imprudent word may seal my fate. I may be tied in a sack even to-night, and cast into the sea!”
“How can I help thee? How can I save thee?” I asked, with eagerness.
“Only by undertaking the journey of which I have already spoken,” she answered slowly. “If thy mission is accomplished successfully, then thou wilt rescue me from a cruel fate – a fate far worse than death.”
Chapter Eighteen.
A Hidden Tragedy
So earnestly she spoke that I felt convinced there was in her life some hideous mystery, and that those who held power over her she regarded with abject terror. Besides, her frequent allusions to the uncertainty of her life made it plain that she was apprehensive of a swift and terrible doom.
Though some of her words and actions were, strange and incomprehensible, and the effects I had witnessed at the weird Shrine of Darkness had, I reflected, been probably produced by some kind of mechanical ingenuity, yet there was something even more remarkable about this Pearl of the Harem than her entrancing beauty. Her actions led me to the conclusion that she was actually the woman reputed by the Ennitra to be possessed of superhuman power, and every moment I now spent in her company deepened my curiosity concerning her.
The mystery by which she was enveloped was puzzling. I felt myself bewildered.
That she was well versed in Oriental mystic, rites was certain, but whether she had actually produced the results I had witnessed without some ingenious trickery I was half inclined to doubt.
Nevertheless, I loved her blindly. Her beauty fascinated me, and her words in soft, musical Arabic that fell upon my ears entranced me.
“Then thou wilt go?” she said fondly, entwining her arm around my neck. “Thou, the Amîn, to whom may the Bestower of Good Gifts be merciful, art willing to face all the terrors of the long journey for my sake?”
“Yes, Zoraida,” I replied, looking straight into her dark orbs. “Already thou hast saved my life. If it lieth within my power I will save thine.”
“Then we must lose no time,” she exclaimed suddenly. Leaving me, she crossed the harem, and took a sheet of paper and an ink-horn from a little cabinet inlaid with silver and mother-of-pearl, returning to where I was standing. Sinking upon her soft divan, she spread out the paper upon a little coffee-stool, and wrote in Arabic character the following: —
“O revered servant of Allah, learned and mighty, thou whose face is as a lamp unto those who walk in the darkness and in error stray from the path, unto thee I send salutation. The One Worthy of Praise made earth for a carpet, and it is written upon the tablet that Allah, Giver of Good Gifts, is the living One. May he who despiseth the revelation enter into the Companionship of the Left Hand, and dwell for ever in Al Sâhira. To seek an elucidation of the Great Mystery, the Roumi, into whose hands have I given the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, journeyeth afar unto thee. Know, O Friend, deadly peril surroundeth me. Of a verity the day hath come when the Great Secret may be revealed, for by its knowledge my life may be spared. Wherefore I beseech thee to grant him audience, and direct his footsteps into the valley of felicity, for assuredly mine enemies may be dumbfounded if thou wiliest.
“In fear have we flown into the refuge of patience, praying to the Answerer of our Supplications to grant us endurance. When our prayer for the Great Elucidation hath been responded to, the skirts of thine innocence shall be purified from the mire of suspicion, and – if it pleaseth Allah – by the blessing of thy devotions will our petition be heard, and from us will our affliction be removed. May the Beneficent Granter of Requests be gracious unto the Roumi and give him prosperity. Upon thee likewise be perfect peace. Sister.”
As she carefully penned the intricate lines, I noticed for the first time that across the back of her right hand – the hand that bore my ring – was a small red scar about an inch in length, and I silently wondered how it had been caused.
“There,” she exclaimed at last, as she appended with a flourish the characters “Okht” which apparently she used as her signature, “together with the Crescent of Glorious Wonders convey this my message to Hadj Mohammed ben Ishak, the chief imam of the mosque at Agadez. He will understand my desire. Tell him that thou hast accompanied me unto the Shrine of Darkness, where I recovered the key to the hidden mystery, but that knowledge was, alas! not imparted to thee. He will then instruct thee how to act.”
“To Agadez?” I echoed, dismayed, remembering that it lay far south beyond the Great Sahara, with nearly two thousand miles of trackless and almost waterless wilderness between it and civilisation.
“Yes; I told thee that the only spot where knowledge can be given thee, and by which thou canst effect my rescue, was far distant. Dost thou fear to travel thither?”
I hesitated in uncertainty. Well I knew how tedious and perilous would be the long journey, for the hostility of the tribes through whose country I should have to pass constituted a terror even as great as the enormous difficulties and frightful hardships that I must encounter for many weeks, perhaps months, in the Great Sahara itself. But the earnest look of pleading in her splendid eyes decided me.
“I will go, Zoraida. If it is thy will, I shall start to-morrow,” I said.
“Thou wilt traverse the Great Desert for my sake – for my sake?” she exclaimed, kissing my hand as I took the missive she had folded. “When I named thee the Amîn I was not mistaken. Hadj Mohammed will be expecting thee.”
“Why?”
“Because he will receive early knowledge that the Crescent of Glorious Wonders is in thy custody. Remember, if lost, it could never be replaced, having been revealed and given unto us by the Power that is all-powerful. Thou wilt undertake this mission in order to save my life, to save me from the horrible fate that threateneth to overwhelm me. When the Secret hath been imparted, and thou hast used it according to instructions that will be given by the aged chaplain of the daily prayers, then wilt thou return to me – and to peace.”
“But how shall I find thee? Many moons may perchance rise and fade ere I return to Algiers.”
“Assuredly I shall know thy whereabouts,” she replied briefly. “Travel swiftly. The horse I gave thee on the night I severed thy bonds will carry thee back from Biskra to El Biodh. Then with camels travel over the vast northern Touareg and the mountains of Adrar, guarding well thy life through Djanet until thou comest to Mount Equelles. From there thou wilt be compelled to guide thyself by the sun over the Desert to the palms of Issalà, where thou wilt find also dates, forage, and water. Another long and weary course of travel will bring thee at last to Assiou, thence journeying due south past Azarara and along the great rocky valleys of Aïr, where dwell thine enemies, thou wilt at length enter the gate of Agadez, the City of the Sorcerers, wherein the strange mystery lieth hidden.”
The exact position of Agadez was, I reflected, somewhat uncertain. Generally believed to be about eighteen hundred miles from Algiers as the swallow flies, it was placed by most maps at the extreme south of the Azarara country, to the west of Lake Tsâd; but among European geographers there was a certain amount of doubt as to its exact position and best approach, for maps of that remote district differ considerably. However, I had decided to set out to seek this aged imam for Zoraida’s sake, and meant to do my utmost to accomplish my mission.
Leaning before me in silence against a marble column, with her hands clasped behind her head, her jewels scintillating in the softly-tempered light, her sequins tinkling musically, her rich silks rustling, her scented bosom rising and falling as she breathed, she looked a veritable sultana, a woman for whom any man might have sacrificed his very soul.
“Remember always, O Cecil, that my thoughts follow thee,” she said softly. “Remember, when thou facest the terrors which are inevitable, that there is one woman who is trusting to thee alone to save her. Perhaps ere long I shall return to our palace in the impenetrable mountains beyond Tiouordeouïn; nevertheless my thoughts will be constantly of thee, for now I am convinced of thy love and fearlessness. May Allah, the One Merciful, guard thee, and may all thine enemies perish!”
Placing my arm slowly around her slim waist, encircled by a golden girdle, I drew her towards me, and she kissed me with hot feverish lips.
“I cannot bear the thought, Zoraida, that thou mayest wander again with thy relatives and clansmen over the burning Desert, and witness those awful scenes of plunder and massacre. Ah! if I could but think that thou wouldst be safe here during my absence.”
She sighed, toying with the jewelled scent-bottle suspended upon her breast, the little trinket that contained the antidote.
“Already have I told thee my life is very uncertain,” she exclaimed gloomily. “Even to-night I might fall a victim. The tyranny of unpropitious times hath thrown the stone of separation upon us. I might – ”
“No, no,” I interrupted. “Thou art safe here, surely. Be patient, and keep a stout heart until I return. Thou knowest I love thee dearly, and will strive unceasingly to accomplish my mission quickly and successfully.”
“Yes. I shall be thinking always of thee – always,” she said softly.
“And when I return I shall have learned the mysterious Secret which is so absolutely necessary for our mutual welfare.”
“Ah, Cecil, my Amîn! I love thee! I love thee! As sure as the sun will illumine to-morrow’s dawn, so surely will I – ”
Her passionate words were suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the big negro who had guarded the door of the harem. He rushed in with a look of abject terror upon his dark, brutal countenance, whispering some hasty words into his mistress’s ear that caused her to become agitated and deathly pale.
“Quick! Hasten, or I am lost!” she cried, turning to me.
“What danger threateneth?” I inquired in surprise.
“Leave me! Leave me! Thou must not be discovered!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Take this, the Crescent, and turn thy face towards the Desert to-morrow. Remember the instructions I have given thee; and, above all, promise to seek no explanation of what thou mayest hear or see regarding me until thou hast returned from Agadez.”
“I promise,” I replied, as for a second I held her in my arms and our lips met in passionate farewell.
“Quick! The Roumi! In Allah’s name, save him!” she cried, turning to the gorgeously-attired Soudanese who stood near, like a gigantic statue.
“Follow,” he commanded; and, crossing the room, drew aside some silken hangings, disclosing another small door, of the existence of which I had been unaware.
