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CHAPTER XX

The next day the old Sheik was laid to rest with his ancestors in the "Tombs of the Kings." At first Halima was inconsolable in her grief; but, from its very intensity, it soon spent itself, and her thoughts, from dwelling upon her father, reverted to herself.

She set herself, and in this she was ably seconded by her husband, to gain popularity in her new position; and, to say this, is to say that she succeeded, for her youth and beauty, her sweet temper and winning manners, and her kindness and generosity, compelled her retainers' enthusiastic loyalty, so that they almost worshiped her; also they admired and honored him.

Altogether she was in danger of being spoiled, for St. Just also yielded to her in everything and never sought to impose his will on her. Ben Kerriman, the old doctor, noted all this with regret, and one day remonstrated with St. Just.

"My son," he said, "you will pardon an old man for offering unsought advice; for you know my strong regard for the Lady Halima. But you let her have too much of her own way; it is not good for women to be independent. She should be taught, even more for her own sake than for yours, to control her wishes; she should not have everything she wants. I know her disposition well; she is generous and affectionate; but she is by nature dictatorial and ambitious, and filled with unsatisfied desires. And these qualities have become far more marked since her father's death. I foresee that, unless she be kept in hand, even should she gain the goal marked out by the late Sheik, and become Queen of Upper Egypt, she will not be content. What she has set her heart upon is to go to France and there to make a position for herself. Recollect, too, that she is half French; it was partly that, no doubt, that inclined her to yourself. It would be a terrible disappointment to us all, should she forsake her father's people."

St. Just thanked the old doctor for his kindly meant advice and promised seriously to consider it.

Strange to say, at that very time something was occurring that seemed to lend confirmation to the doctor's views of Halima's disposition. Soon after her father's death, she had chosen to consider herself slighted through the non-observance by a neighboring tribe of some trivial ceremony customary on the decease of a friendly Sheik; and St. Just had been surprised at the importance she had assigned to it and the temper she had shown. Since then, she had been continually urging him to invade their territory to chastise them. But he was unwilling to break the peace of the district, that had been so admirably kept by the old Sheik; and had, so far, held her back.

With a view of diverting her attention from the subject, he proposed that they should set about the recovery of the buried treasure; to his delight, she at once acceded to his suggestion. So he called together some of the elder members of the tribe—those with whom the old Sheik had been in the habit of taking counsel—and told them what he and Halima had resolved.

Accordingly, a party was formed, which, beside St. Just and Halima, consisted of six of the leading members of the tribe, Abdallah, Mahmoud and a guard of forty-five men.

St. Just had been surprised when Halima had announced her intention of accompanying the expedition, and had done his utmost to dissuade her; but she had been resolute to go, and, of course, had had her way.

So, early one morning, they set out. It was now three weeks since the old Sheik's death.

They traveled with all speed, but, for all that, it was nightfall when they reached the rocks that marked the entrance to the subterranean city. To explore it at that time could not be thought of, for all were more or less fatigued; so St. Just gave orders for the camels to be tethered and for the men to make themselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit, an impromptu tent being rigged up for Halima. Then fires were lighted, and a meal of stewed kid, supplemented with dates and rice, was prepared and duly eaten. This done, a watch was set, and the men disposed themselves to pass the night, each rolled up in his blanket. St. Just, before he retired to rest, walked through the camp, to see that all were settled and to give his last instructions to the sentry. Then he himself lay down just outside Halima's tent.

But, tired though he was, he could not sleep; his brain was busy with thoughts of the treasure the morrow would disclose—of what it would consist, its value, and all that it might lead to. He tried to put the thoughts away from him, for he longed to sleep; but, the more he tried, the more wakeful he became, and he tossed about from side to side, in the vain hope that, by changing his position, he would effect his purpose.

Presently the sound of a light footfall reached his ear, then some one behind him touched his arm. He started up and laid his hand upon his dagger, believing himself about to be attacked. Halima stood beside.

"You startled me, sweetheart," he exclaimed in muffled tones. "Is anything the matter; are you ill?"

"Hush! no," was her reply, and she put a finger to her lips, "but I want to talk to you, undisturbed. Everyone is now asleep."

She sat down beside him and drew her hood forward, so as to conceal her face. Then, "Henri," she resumed, "do you remember what I said in Cairo the night you pressed me to become your wife?"

"A good deal was said," he answered, "on that memorable occasion; but what is it that you wish me specially to recall?"

"This, that, instead of ending my life as I had intended, I said I would live for you and Buonaparte—for love—and vengeance—vengeance on my betrayer."

St. Just was roused; he had hoped Halima was forgetting this episode in her life, as he himself was striving hard to. The subject was abhorrent to him.

"My dear," he said, "why refer to this? I had hoped it was fading from your memory. We are happy in each other's love; why cherish revengeful thoughts that are impossible of accomplishment?"

"Impossible? They are not; they shall not be. I am as firm in my resolve as ever. So you thought I had forgotten. Know that I will never rest, until I have been revenged on him. You little guess the stuff that I am made of. You know how I can love; you shall learn how I can hate." The words ended almost in a hiss.

All this was a revelation to St. Just, and, for the moment, he was nonplussed.

"Well," he said weakly, "what do you purpose doing?"

"I have thought it all out. Listen. My father told us just before he died that in this treasure, beside the gold, there is vast wealth in jewels—opals, diamonds, rubies of great size and value; but, for all that, occupying little space.

"Now my plan is this; when we have got the treasure to the camp, you shall take the gold to Cairo to those appointed by my father to receive it. Then, instead of returning to the tribe, make your way to Suez and there await me. I will join you with the jewels, and we will take ship for France."

"A very pretty plan, but you will have to get the jewels first; no easy matter with so many eyes about."

"I'll manage that; trust a woman for hoodwinking those about her."

"But how can I set foot in France? Buonaparte would have me shot as a deserter. But, even supposing my presence were unknown, and I escaped; if we killed Buonaparte, we should pay forfeit with our heads; and then, what would profit us all our wealth?"

"Kill him? That is not my aim. No, I shall wait till his power has become supreme; then I will drag him down."

"Words, idle words, my dear, that can never eventuate in deeds. I doubt not that you have the will, but you almost make me smile. How can you, a mere woman, control the future of such a man?"

"You shall see when his hour has come, mere woman though I am. When he has reached the zenith of his power, he shall be hurled suddenly into ignominy and exile, and eat his heart out in captivity. Then he shall know that I have had a hand in all that has befallen him, and learn the intensity of my hatred."

"And you will help me to be revenged on Buonaparte?" she asked, after a little pause.

"Willingly," he answered earnestly. "He is the cause of all our trouble. To be revenged on him I am prepared to face all risks—yes, even Hell's torments, rather than abate one jot or tittle of his punishment. Are you content?"

A cruel smile of triumph played about her lips.

"I am," she said. "See that you never waver in your resolution. As for my own, it is as fixed and sure as the sun round which we move. It is the very breath of my existence, and will cease only either with my death, or its fulfillment. I have not thought out the details of my plan; there is ample time for that; but, with the wealth at our command, the instruments for retribution will not be hard to find."

"But you are weary, love, and you have much to do to-morrow, and the night is far advanced. Come into my tent, my Henri." She laid her hand on his. "Ah! you are cold," she cried with gentle sympathy. "You shall rest with my arms around you, close to my heart, and I will give you warmth, and lull you off to sleep."

He made no demur, and she led him to her tent.

Thus was the oath to be revenged on Buonaparte re-sworn. At that moment he was preparing, away in France, to take up the reins of government as First Consul, and, could he have heard them, would have laughed to scorn the threats of Halima and her husband.

CHAPTER XXI

At daybreak the camp was all astir. Fires were replenished for the preparation of the morning meal, which some attended to, while others were told off to feed the camels. Then all breakfasted, and the final arrangements for the day's proceedings were completed.

When they were on the point of starting, much to St. Just's annoyance and regret, Halima came up ready dressed to join the party.

"My dear," he said, "you surely cannot think of going with us."

"Naturally," she replied simply.

"But it is impossible," he rejoined. "You have no conception of the roughness of the road; we have to burrow underground, and the way is full of danger. No woman could face it."

"If there is danger, the greater the reason that I should go with you. I will not run the risk of being left alone to face the world. If aught befall you, it shall strike me too."

"But," he urged, "where a man would run but little risk, a woman would run much. Besides, the care of you would impede our movements."

"I care not; I mean to go with you. Come, we are wasting time."

He saw she was immovable, and he sighed.

"Be it so," he said, and, without further words, they started.

On their way to the entrance of the subterranean passage, they had to pass the lake. To their surprise, they found that more than half of it had disappeared. The shallower portion of what had been the lake, consisted now of dried up mud, intersected with deep fissures, with here and there a shallow pool. Only at the end nearest the high rocks, beneath which lay the buried city, was the water deep, and black as night.

While St. Just was gazing at it, Mahmoud came up behind him and touched him on the arm.

"Look, master; look what I have found," he said, when St. Just turned round; and he handed him a little slab about one inch square and a quarter of an inch in thickness. In color it was of a dull reddish yellow, and on one side of it could be discerned the indistinct figure of a cat. St. Just carefully examined it, and weighed it in his hand. Then he took out his dagger and scratched the surface. It was soft; it was pure gold!

"Where did you find this?" he inquired.

Meanwhile, some of the others had come up and were gazing enviously at what was in his hand.

"In the grass, close to this hole," replied the boy, his brown face wreathed in smiles, though he had not the least notion of the value of his find; but he saw, by his master's face, that St. Just was pleased.

"Look about, some of you, and see whether you can find more," St. Just went on.

A careful search was made, but no more gold pieces were forthcoming. Evidently this was a stray one dropped either in the hiding, or removing of the treasure.

"Here, sweetheart," he said, handing it to Halima; "take this as a keepsake; it is the first fruits of our expedition."

"I will have a brooch made of it," she said.

Having seen all there was to see about the lake, they retraced their steps to where the camels were tethered. Here St. Just gave final directions to those who were to remain behind, and then the party of treasure seekers made their way to the entrance of the passage leading to the buried city, all carrying torches.

One by one they disappeared within the entrance, each man lighting his torch inside from the one preceding him, until all were within the opening. Then they proceeded cautiously down the easy descent the passage took, until they reached the point at which the real danger began; and here their leader called a halt.

Mindful, from the experience of his previous journey, of the shoot down which one had to slide—an easy task, when one was aware of it, for a man, but hazardous for a woman—he adopted special precautions for securing Halima from accident.

What he did was this—and it was only his knowledge of the length of the shoot that made it possible—he sent one man down to the bottom of the slope with a lighted torch. Arrived there, he was to lie at full length on his back close against the side of the tunnel. Then another man was to follow in the same way, setting his feet on the shoulders of the one below; and so on, until the entire length of the steep incline was occupied. By this means the whole stretch was lighted most effectively, and a passage was left at the side of the men, down which Halima could travel; in case her progress should become dangerously rapid, the men could check it. Then he tied a rope round Halima's waist, and she began the descent feet foremost on her hands and knees, he standing at the top and paying out the rope as needed. In two minutes she had reached the bottom. Then he followed, and the torch-bearers after him, beginning from the topmost man.

In due course, they reached the roadway that gave on to the ruined city, and here they halted for a moment to view the wondrous scene, which many of them now saw for the first time. Halima's eyes sparkled with excitement; she seemed enraptured.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "It is like being transported to another world. I could not have imagined such a scene; never again will my eyes rest on such a sight. Oh! I would not have missed it for all the world. And to think that you would have deprived me of it, Henri."

She seemed loth to leave it, but stood turning her eyes from one point to another, without further comment. Presently St. Just recalled her to their errand.

"It is indeed a wondrous sight," he said, "but we must not dally here; we can admire it further, when we have done our work."

"You are right," she said: "let us go on."

St. Just gave the order, and the whole party made a sharp turn to the left, along the pathway to the temple, which lay not many yards away. What had been once a noble doorway was now a yawning gap, and through this they passed, to find themselves in a gigantic hall, down which ran two long rows of pillars, which served to support the roof, the span of the building being such as to require them. In the semi-darkness it was impossible to see whether the roof still stood. Between the pillars there were marble statues which, considering their antiquity, were marvelously well preserved—sufficiently so, at any rate, to show that those who had produced them were no uncivilized barbarians, but men who had a thorough knowledge of the sculptor's art.

In the center of the building a much larger statue reared itself. The figure was at least twenty feet in height, and was placed on a pedestal ten feet high, the whole resting on a flight of half a dozen steps that faced four ways. The figure represented a man perfectly proportioned and of majestic mien. It wore a crown and was draped in flowing robes; the right arm was raised and bore a sword. Doubtless, the statue was the counterfeit presentment of the god to whom the temple had been dedicated.

At the foot of this statue they found the object of their search. Around its base were piled, one upon another, strong wooden boxes bound with iron. They were oblong, eighteen inches by twelve, and about nine inches deep. St. Just counted them; there were forty-eight. Then he raised the end of one of them to judge its weight; it took more strength than he had thought. From the size of the boxes and their weight, their contents must be gold—about two hundred-weight in each, as he supposed. He made a mental calculation. Then he turned to Halima and said in French: "Gold. If they are all alike, there is the value here of about fifteen million francs."

"So much as that," she said. "It seems an immense sum. But think you the jewels are packed with the gold?"

"Most likely not; we will make a further search before we go."

Meanwhile, the restless Mahmoud, who had been peering about, called out:

"This box not full; lid cracked. Little yellow bricks, like that I found, inside."

St. Just looked and found the boy was right; the box held layers of little golden slabs.

Now that St. Just was advised roughly of the amount of treasure—the weight and number of the boxes—he had to consider the mode for its removal; he saw, at once, that he had not provided means for its transport in one journey to the camp; the camels they had brought with them could not possibly carry it all. The first thing, however, was to get it above ground, and the chief difficulty would arise in the passage with the sharp ascent.

Only half the party was underground, the rest remaining with the camels at their temporary encampment. St. Just divided his men into gangs of three, of which one would carry a torch and two a box, one at each end. There were eight of these gangs, so that, to move all the treasure, each would have to make six journeys. Their leader's intention was to have all the boxes deposited at the foot of the steep incline, before attempting to haul any of them up.

The orders given, the men began the work, the eight parties filing out of the temple, each preceded by its torch-bearer. They set off at a fair pace, but quickly slackened, and their progress became momentarily slower, as their burdens seemed to increase in weight. Two hundred-weight, borne as this had to be, is no mean load, and frequent rests were necessary; so that it took quite half an hour to do the distance there and back. Thus it would occupy three hours, merely to move the treasure to the slope. When the men returned from their first journey, they showed the stress of their exertions in their perspiring faces and still rapid breathing.

In due course, all the boxes were transported to the bottom of the slope. While this work had been in progress, St. Just had not been idle. They had provided themselves with a good supply of rope, and, with this, he had slings knotted together, in which the boxes could be slipped readily and hauled up the incline. Thus there was no loss of time, and, when all the treasure had been stacked hard by the shoot, the work of haulage was begun. Four men, by St. Just's direction, scrambled up, taking the end of a strong rope with them. Then the boxes one by one, were hitched to the middle of the cable and drawn up, the latter being pulled back, after each box had been released, by the end that remained with those below. When the boxes should have been all dragged up the slope, the rest would be comparatively easy, for the further route to the open air was both short and almost level, rising so gradually as to present no difficulties. Before this was begun, however, all the treasure was to be collected at the upper end of the shoot. St. Just believed in doing work by stages.

He waited long enough to see that his plan was working smoothly, and then, leaving one of the oldest and most respected of the tribe in charge, he and Halima, accompanied by the faithful Mahmoud, made their way back to the temple, to take a last look round. Unless the jewels were packed up with the gold, they had not yet been found, and St. Just was resolved to make a further search for them, free from the eyes of witnesses. As for Mahmoud, his master knew that he was to be trusted to keep inviolate any secret.

When they had again traversed the pathway to the left and had gained the open space before the temple, St. Just, happening to turn his head round to the right, his attention was attracted to the crater of the volcano. Only light smoke had been proceeding from it on their arrival; now sparks were mingled with it, and an occasional tongue of fire shot up; the smoke, too, had become denser and was tinged with red. Also low rumblings could be heard.

"The crater is more active than when we first came," he said. "See those showers of red hot cinders; and can you hear those sounds like distant thunder?"

"Yes, is it not grand?" said Halima. "It is like a huge fountain of golden rain and hail. I can hear the roar too; what force must be embowelled there to cause it; it sounds like fifty blacksmiths' fires all blowing at once. It certainly was not like this before. Think you we are in any danger?"

"I trust not; I think we are too far away. But we will lose no time. Come, Mahmoud, go before us with your torch."

They made their way once more into the temple, and began their search, Halima and St. Just going along by the wall on one side of the building, and Mahmoud taking the other. When they had reached the end, they retraced their steps, taking a course a little further from the walls, and so on, backwards and forwards, and thus gradually approaching the center, having left no portion of the flooring uncovered by their torches, and all the while peering carefully around.

In due course, they met in the center of the building by the huge statue; so far their search had been absolutely fruitless. They gazed in one another's faces somewhat blankly. Then St. Just looked up at the impassive figure.

"Unless that venerable gentleman holds the secret," he said, addressing Halima, "and is prepared to share it with us, I fear we shall have to return, as empty-handed as we came. I will improve my acquaintance with him."

He ran nimbly up the steps and carefully examined the pedestal on which the statue rested. It seemed to be a solid block of stone; certainly the front portion of it was, for, on his kicking it, it gave forth no hollow sound, and no lines were visible on its exterior. He moved round one corner and along the side, minutely inspecting as he went. About three inches from the end there was a vertical line or crack about a foot in length that reached the bottom of the pedestal, and at its upper end terminated in another line at right angles to it, that extended to the corner. He went round to the back and followed this horizontal line for eighteen inches, when, as he had hoped, it was joined by another vertical line, that, like the first, ran down to the pedestal's base. It was a slab of stone, in fact, eighteen inches by twelve, three inches thick. On being struck, it sounded hollow.

"There is a cavity," he cried. "Mahmoud, come here."

Mahmoud ran up the steps, and then St. Just told him to insert his dagger into the lower part of the interstice, whilst he himself took the same course with the upper. When both daggers had got fair hold, the two men prized carefully together, and the stone began to move. Soon they could get their fingers into the opening; then, exerting all their force, they wrenched the slab away and it fell down the steps with a crash that reverberated through the temple, and startled Halima.

"Oh!" she cried unconsciously. Then, "Have you found anything?"

"I shall know presently," St. Just called back.

The stone removed, a cavity was revealed, and in this lay a small square box, apparently of silver, but so dull and tarnished that it was difficult to determine. St. Just seized it, and, in two strides, was at the bottom of the steps.

"I think I've found them," he cried; "see." And he held out the box.

Halima took it. "This is for Buonaparte," she said exultantly. "By the help of these I shall achieve my end. Was there anything more where you found this?"

"Nothing whatever. Now let us go; we have been too long already."

"Here, Mahmoud," said Halima; "carry this for me, and see that you lose it not, as you prize your life. And, further, say not a word concerning it to any one."

"Mahmoud is faithful," the boy replied reproachfully, taking the box from her. He placed it inside his loose garment, next his breast.

"Come, let us join the others,"' said St. Just, "and see what progress they have made."

The words had hardly left his lips when a deep, rumbling sound was heard. It grew louder and louder; there was a resounding blow, and then, with a crash, a large portion of the left wall of the temple fell in, and a volume of water poured in after it.

"Merciful Heavens!" cried Halima, "what has happened?"

"The lake overhead must have burst in," exclaimed St. Just. "We must fly; follow me."

And he made for the upper end of the temple, towards the right hand corner, keeping close to Halima's side and suiting his pace to hers. It would have been useless to attempt to gain the entrance, for the flooring of the temple inclined that way, and all the water was flowing towards it; and, such were its force and volume, that it would have swept them off their feet and carried them over the roadway into the abyss in which stood the ruined city.

They rushed on side by side, without uttering a word. Mahmoud, who had been behind them at the start, soon overtook and headed them.

"Follow me," he cried, in passing; "I know." And he made direct for the far right hand corner, on reaching which, he halted and waited for the others. Now, in the search they had just been making, Mahmoud had taken the right hand side, and he had noticed a narrow doorway at the extreme end. This might afford the means of their escape.

St. Just and Halima came up panting, and the boy pointed out this opening to them. Before examining it, St. Just paused to look around, so far as the light from their torches would permit. The result somewhat reassured him, for, where they were, the floor was dry, and, if the water at all gained on them, its progress was very slow, the great mass of it rushing towards the entrance, where it found an exit. His chief fear was that the latter might not be wide enough, and that the end wall might not be able to withstand the pressure. In such a case the whole temple might come down and, if not crushed to death, they would be entombed alive. On the other hand, should the end wall stand, he hoped that, when the lake should have run dry, they could make their escape by the temple entrance.

"We are safe for the moment," he said. And he put his arm round Halima and drew her to him and kissed her fondly. "My poor darling, how you tremble. Courage, keep up your heart; we shall yet escape."

She clung to him frantically, sobbing and panting for breath.

"Oh! I am so frightened," she gasped; "to have to die so young, and in such a place. Oh! I wish I had not come."

He was too generous to reproach her for not having taken his advice.

"We shall not die, sweetheart," he made answer reassuringly. "Calm yourself; we shall need all our wits. See, the water does not come our way; it all flows out at the other end; when it has subsided, we shall be able to leave the temple. Meanwhile, let us examine this opening in the wall, and see what lies beyond."

His words gave his wife confidence, and gradually she grew calm. He advanced to the opening and, holding his torch well in front of him, he peered about.

"There is a passage," he said, "that leads somewhere; let us explore it while we wait; who knows? we may find further treasure."

So all three entered, and made their way along it; it was about four feet wide and seven high, stone cased and arched—a tunnel in fact—and it inclined gradually upwards.

They had proceeded not more than twenty yards when they were startled by a long rolling crash behind them, that brought them to a standstill.

"Oh! what is that?" cried Halima. "Something very heavy has fallen."

An awful fear crept over St. Just; he guessed just what had happened, but durst not give utterance to his thoughts.

"I will go back and see," he said; "wait here for me."

"Not for worlds," said Halima. "I will not be left for a moment. I will go with you."

So all three retraced their steps together. St. Just's fears were soon confirmed; the entrance to the passage was completely blocked by debris of stone and mortar.

"My God!" he exclaimed, "the whole temple has come down. If we had not sheltered in this passage, we should have been buried in the ruins."

"Better that than to be buried alive," said Halima; "we are hopelessly entrapped; doomed to die of slow starvation."

"God grant us a better fate! This passage must lead somewhere; it rises, and, most likely, will take us above ground. There is no cause for despair. Come."

For his wife's sake, he affected a cheerfulness he was far from feeling, and her spirits rose proportionately.

"I will be brave," she answered, "May Allah save us!"

They turned their backs upon the ruined temple and hurried along the passage, Mahmoud in advance. When they had traversed about three hundred yards, gradually ascending all the while, the passage ended, and they emerged at a point where three roads met. The center one led down hill to the ruined city, for, now that they had left the tunnel, the light from the volcano was sufficient for them to discern it. It was useless, therefore, taking this; the choice lay between the other two, to the right and the left respectively; which were they to follow? Halima gave her decision.

"We'll try the right," she said; "it saved us once, it may again. We will follow our luck."

There seemed some sense in what she said, so St. Just resolved to act upon it. Additionally, so far as he could mentally take bearings, the direction indicated was that in which lay the camp.