Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell's Pranks: or, Lively Times in the Orient», sayfa 6
Nadia uttered a cry of alarm and turned to run. She fled up some steps and disappeared within an open doorway.
Dick gave a gasp of dismay as he followed her, for he saw she had entered a Moslem temple, and he knew such an intrusion might produce an uproar.
He sprang up the steps. Even as he did so, he heard sudden shouts of alarm and anger coming from within the temple.
Then Nadia reappeared, looking rather startled and agitated.
“Goodness!” she gasped. “I almost ran right onto a lot of monks at their devotions!”
The camels were swinging past.
“We must get away from here in a hurry!” exclaimed Dick.
Even as he uttered the words several priests came hurrying to the open door of the temple. They saw Nadia. One of them pointed at her and shouted to his companions. Then the whole of them moved again, as if eager to lay hands on her.
“Here’s trouble!” muttered Dick, feeling for his pistol.
“Don’t let them touch me!” gasped Nadia.
The head priest called to some of the men of the train that was passing. Several of these men, swarthy and villainous in appearance, halted in answer to this call. The words of the priest seemed to arouse them. They glared at the girl and started to mount the steps.
Out flashed Merriwell’s pistol.
“Hold on, you dogs!” he commanded, displaying the weapon. “Stop where you are! Back up, or I’ll have to damage some of you!”
The sight of that pistol caused the foremost among them to retreat precipitately.
But Dick and Nadia were caught between two fires, as it were. The angry priests were behind them, while a number of savage men were in front.
The American boy knew he must lose not a moment in changing his position.
Grasping Nadia’s wrist, he hurried down the steps and attempted to flee along the street.
Another shout from the priests caused several of the fierce-looking men to place themselves before Dick and the girl. Although Merriwell threatened to shoot, they would not let him pass.
Merriwell looked round for some place where he could hold off the fanatical Moslems. He was forced to retreat against the nearest wall.
Supporting Nadia with one arm, he lifted his pistol and fearlessly faced the howling crowd, which now began to close about them in a half circle, urged on by the priests.
“Death to the infidels!” howled the crowd.
They shook their fists at the boy and girl. Those behind tried to urge on those in advance. One old Turk spat at Dick.
Young Merriwell realized the seriousness of his position. He was pale, but his nerves remained steady and unshaken.
“Come on!” he cried clearly. “I’ll fill some of you with lead!”
Suddenly the crowd parted. A man forced his way through, pushing other men to the right and left. As he advanced he drew a gleaming sword, the hilt of which was set with jewels.
The crowd seemed to think this man, who was an Arab of rank and distinction, judging by his dress, meant to attack the boy, and they uttered shouts of approval, urging him to run the “infidel dog” through.
Dick had turned his pistol on the man with the sword, but he hesitated.
“It is Ras al Had!” he exclaimed, in surprise.
CHAPTER XI – A MAN OF COMMAND
It was in truth the sheik who had been struck by the train the previous day.
The Arab turned and faced the howling mob, flourishing his shining sword.
“Destroy the infidel who has defiled the holy temple of the Prophet!” snarled one of the infuriated Mohammedans.
“By the grave of my father,” cried the sheik, “I swear to slay the first who tries to touch her!”
They were astounded, and as he swept his sword with a hissing sound beneath their noses they involuntarily fell back.
One of the priests called to the sheik, demanding to know why he defended the infidels.
The aged Arab retorted that he had a most excellent reason, and that he would lay down his life rather than see either the girl or boy harmed.
He did more than that, for he called several of the mob by name, commanding them to move on and give the strangers permission to depart in peace.
One of the priests attempted to expostulate, explaining that the girl had entered the temple, thus committing an offense that could be atoned for by blood alone.
Then Ras al Had retorted that the girl had been alarmed by the camels of his train and had fled into the temple to escape from them. He further added that infidels were sometimes permitted to visit the temple, escorted by a military guard. In conclusion he stated that he was indebted for his very life to the boy who stood ready to defend the maiden, and, therefore, he was willing to surrender his life in behalf of the lad.
They realized that he was in earnest, and those whom he had called by name and ordered to depart began to slip away.
He then singled out three or four of his own camel drivers, who had dropped back to see what all the uproar was about, and called them to his side.
“Boy,” he said, addressing Dick, “I will see that no harm comes to you or to the girl. Trust me.”
“Thank you,” said Dick gratefully. “I think you took a hand just in time to prevent those wolves from tearing us to pieces.”
“Without doubt you would have met serious injury at their hands. These men are my paid servants. We will escort you and protect you. Fear not.”
The camel drivers gathered about Dick and Nadia. Ras al Had placed himself at their head and ordered them to march.
Flinging his hands in the air, one of the priests stood firmly in the path, refusing to move.
The eyes of Ras al Had shone strangely. He stepped close to the priest, called him by name, and spoke in a low tone.
“It was thy brother whom I delivered from slavery in Nubia,” he said. “Then thou didst fall on my neck and weep and swear by the Prophet that whatever I should ask of thee at any time thou wouldst grant. Hast forgotten?”
“It is true, noble sheik,” confessed the priest; “but tell me hast thou forgotten thy religion that thou canst defend an infidel who has defiled the temple of Mohammed?”
“Ras al Had never forgets. These infidels are mighty and powerful, and should harm come to them through thee, then thou wilt be forced to make reparation in the dust. For thy own good, stand aside and let them pass.”
There seemed to be great command in the dark eyes of the swarthy man, and those eyes were fixed on the priest with burning insistence.
The priest hesitated a moment longer, and then, bowing low with dismay and regret he could not utter, he stood aside.
Ras al Had marched on, his servants following, still with Dick and Nadia in their midst.
They reached the camel train. Behind them the mob had melted away. The danger was past.
“Dick,” said Nadia, pressing Merriwell’s arm, “I think that old man is just splendid! I never dreamed a black man could be so fine!”
Ras al Had turned to them.
“Boy,” he spoke, “it has been truly said that Ras al Had is one who never forgets a debt. Yet when I gave you my word to defend you with my sword and life should the time ever come that I found you in peril, I little thought to what it would bring me. Still I have canceled the debt, and I feel that I owe you nothing.”
“You’re all right, sheik!” exclaimed the boy enthusiastically. “I don’t know how we are going to thank you for – ”
Ras al Had checked him with a gesture.
“I want no thanks. Let me caution you against wandering about Damascus without escort or protection. It is a great folly. Where are your friends?”
Dick explained how it happened that he and Nadia had been caught in such a predicament.
The sheik gazed attentively at the girl and then shook his head soberly.
“A maid so beautiful is in great danger here, unless she be well protected. She might disappear suddenly, and years of searching might not disclose her fate. There are men in Damascus who could not look on her without coveting possession of her. How simple it would be for one of these buildings to swallow you both! You, boy, would meet a swift death, and your body would be so completely destroyed that no trace of it could ever be found. There are prisons in the city where dwell beautiful maidens like her, given every luxury save liberty. Once they have passed within the prison doors they may never again come forth.”
Nadia shuddered and clung to Dick’s arm.
“I have heard of such things,” she said; “but I supposed the custom had been abolished.”
“This day,” said Ras al Had, “a friend of mine from the interior has arrived with many beautiful girls, the most of them Circassians. I spoke with him as I was entering the city. He will take them to a certain house, the location of which I know, and there they will be attended by hairdressers and dressmakers, who will do everything possible to add to their attractiveness. When they are prepared for inspection, certain rich men will visit them and choose from among them, paying the price demanded, after which no other man save their masters will ever look on their faces.”
“Perfectly dreadful!” gasped Nadia. “It makes me shiver to think what would have happened had Hafsa Pasha been able to hoodwink me and my brother.”
The sheik gave her a swift, keen look.
“Hafsa Pasha?” he said, a strange intonation in his voice. “How know you that man?”
“I met him on the steamer from Smyrna to Beirut.”
“What happened?”
Nadia was confused.
“Why, he – he – ”
“He made love to her,” Dick explained. “He asked her to marry him.”
“You knew him to be a Moslem?”
“I knew nothing at the time save what he told me of himself,” answered the girl. “The captain of the vessel told me that he had been banished to Damascus by the sultan on account of some political intrigue, and that he had a harem.”
Ras al Had bowed.
“It is true. I know that man – I know him well! He takes good care to avoid me. I was told by my friend, who had brought the girls from the interior, that there was among them one very beautiful maiden whom he hoped to sell to Hafsa Pasha for a handsome price.”
Nadia shivered again.
“To think that I could even talk with a monster who buys human beings like cattle!” she exclaimed.
“I have contemplated seeking the opportunity to meet Hafsa Pasha when he comes for the Circassian maiden,” said the sheik. “It is possible that I may be there.”
“It seems to me,” observed Dick, “that you have no particularly friendly feeling toward Mr. Hafsa.”
“I have no reason to feel kindly toward him,” confessed the Arab, in a tone of much bitterness. “He once did my younger brother a great wrong. It has been truly said that Ras al Had never forgets, and this wrong he remembers. Some day Hafsa Pasha shall suffer for it, even as he caused my brother to suffer.”
“I don’t like to be inquisitive,” said Dick; “but my curiosity is aroused, and I wonder how he wronged your brother.”
“My brother sold him a cargo of fine rugs, silks, and many precious stones. Hafsa Pasha is no true Mohammedan. He has lived much in the Western countries. Otherwise he would not have denied the price he owed for the goods he had received. He was powerful in a way, and my brother disappeared. I demanded of Hafsa Pasha what had become of my brother, but he swore he knew not. More than a year later I found my brother, a slave and dying far beyond Bagdad, even near to Yezd, which is in the Great Salt Desert. With his last words my brother declared that he believed he was carried into slavery through the plotting and command of Hafsa Pasha, who sought thus to get him out of the way. Thus, you see, Hafsa Pasha escaped payment of the just debt he owed. There was no real proof, but I am satisfied that my brother was right. I have sought diligently to obtain the proof, that I might bring Hafsa Pasha to justice. Even though I have failed in my efforts, never once have I faltered in my resolve to bring punishment on the evildoer.”
There was a sort of grim earnestness and intensity in the quiet words of the old sheik, and Dick felt that Hafsa Pasha had made a very bitter and dangerous enemy.
“Well, I hope you corner the old rascal in the end,” said the boy. “But we must get back to the bazaars. Dunbar and the professor will be tearing the city up in search of us.”
“I will send an escort with you,” said Ras al Had. “Remember my words of warning and be cautious. We may never meet again, but I feel that I have canceled my debt to you, even as I shall some day make settlement with Hafsa Pasha.”
Ras al Had called four sturdy black men and bade them escort the boy and girl back to the bazaars and from thence to their hotel, in case they wished it.
Then he bade Dick and Nadia a dignified farewell.
The escort were four villainous-looking black rascals, and Nadia was afraid of them; but Dick tried to reassure her, declaring that the servants of Ras al Had were to be trusted, no matter how untrustworthy they looked.
Here and there through the crooked, winding streets they made their way. To Dick it seemed that they had covered a far greater distance than was necessary in order to return directly to the bazaars; but he fancied the black men were taking them by a round-about course in order to avoid the vicinity of the temple where the trouble had taken place.
As they proceeded they were joined by a crooked, wizened old Turk, who seemed to know the black men. He spoke to them one by one, but not a word that he said reached the ears of the boy and girl.
Nadia shrank close to Dick, and the hand that clung to his arm trembled a little.
“I don’t like that man,” she whispered. “Did you see how he looked at me? I wish we were by ourselves. We do not need an escort.”
Merriwell tried to reassure her, but he was not entirely easy in his mind.
Finally he spoke to one of the black men, asking why it took so long to reach the bazaars.
The fellow made some sort of an explanation in broken English, but scarcely a word of it could Dick understand.
By this time they were in a quarter of the city that added to the apprehension of the American boy. The people they passed stared at them in a manner that was decidedly disagreeable, to say the least, and many made remarks that were plainly of an insulting nature.
Finally Dick stopped.
“Look here,” he said; “we will go it alone the rest of the way. We are much obliged for your kindness, but we don’t need you any more.”
Then the old Turk approached him and mildly but firmly insisted that it would be quite suicidal to dismiss the escort in such a manner and in such a quarter of the city.
“When did you get into this game?” demanded the boy, somewhat warmly. “It doesn’t strike me that you have anything to say about it.”
Then the crooked old fellow protested that he was a friend to Ras al Had and was working entirely in the interest of the sheik.
Dick’s suspicions were redoubled, instead of allayed.
“That may be true,” he said; “but we don’t propose to trouble Ras al Had’s friends any more. Take the whole bunch and go.”
“And never again have the courage to look the great sheik in the face?” said the Turk. “No; not until I know you are safe with your friends will I abandon you.”
Dick turned to one of the black men, who seemed to be something of a leader.
“Say, you,” he exclaimed, “I want you to shake yourself and get out of this right away! Understand? Take this befezzed old relic with you, too. Git!”
The man shook his head and held up his hands as if he did not understand.
Nadia’s alarm had increased. She saw that Dick was rapidly becoming very angry, and she urged him to hold his temper.
“I’ll travel no farther with these men!” declared the determined boy.
The Turk said something to the black men, and they began to crowd about Dick and the girl.
Seeing this, the boy reached for his pistol.
Before he could draw the weapon, however, he was seized by the throat by a huge pair of hands, the owner of which was behind him. Another of the black rascals clutched his arm and prevented him from producing the weapon.
The hands which clasped the boy’s neck were very powerful, and the massive fingers shut off his wind in a moment. The pressure thus exerted seemed crushing flesh and bone.
He exerted all his strength in the effort to break away, but realized that he had very little chance to succeed.
Through a haze he saw Nadia struggling weakly in the grip of the crooked Turk and one of the black men. There was a sudden roaring in his ears, but through it came a sharp sound that he knew was a scream from the lips of the unfortunate girl.
A feeling of desperate fury shot through his heart. The very fact that he felt himself impotent to aid Nadia thrilled him with a horrible madness. He remembered the warning words of Ras al Had.
But had the old sheik been sincere? Many a time he had heard that no Moslem ever felt himself bound in honor to an infidel. In fact, to deceive and betray an infidel was regarded as a commendable and praiseworthy proceeding.
Had not Ras al Had played a crafty game from the start? It was truly surprising that the sheik had dared array himself against the priests before the temple. Had he not done so in order to deceive and betray the infidels more completely? Was it not possible the old scoundrel had realized that any harm befalling the boy and girl in the vicinity of the bazaars might bring swift retribution on the offenders, for which reason he had entered into the affair, held the mob in check for the time being, finally to decoy the victims into a part of the city where they could be murdered with very little chance that the crime would ever be punished?
This hazy thought caused young Merriwell to twist and squirm in the clutch of those iron hands, making a last deranged effort to free himself that he might fight for her.
His senses reeled and a black cloud, riven by flashes of lightning, descended upon him. He knew he was losing consciousness. Heavy bells rang in his ears. Somewhere in the distance cannon boomed. Then these sounds died away. The harsh bells and booming cannon were silenced by an organ peal. The music thrilled through him. It sank to a soft, throbbing strain and then receded into the distance, growing fainter and fainter. Peace fell on him. He struggled no more.
Was it death?
CHAPTER XII – BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH
Dick’s next sensation was that of an acute pain that shot through every limb and every part of his body. On his chest there seemed a terrible weight that was smothering him, while his head was being crushed by an iron band. He was choking; his neck gave him the most exquisite agony. Far away he seemed to hear the babble of mocking voices. Some one was laughing at him; there were many of them.
In spite of the terrible pains he felt, every limb seemed numb and helpless. He had not strength nor power of will. A husky groan came from his lips, which were purple and tinged with blood. That sound called forth another burst of mocking laughter.
He opened his eyes. At first he could see nothing, for the bright sun of the Orient was shining full upon him.
He knew not what had happened.
After a bit he began to realize that he was lying flat on his back in a narrow street, while around him at a little distance were standing many strange men. They were gazing at him in contempt and laughing at his misery. To him in his agony their faces seemed the faces of fiends.
A feeling of resentment and anger lay hold upon him. It infuriated him because they could stand about and mock him in his wretchedness.
“You dog!” he tried to cry; but the hissing gasp that came from his lips was inarticulate.
One of the crowd stepped out and poked the boy with his foot. Then he lifted his hand to his mouth and threw back his head, as if drinking, after which he made a few staggering steps.
The crowd roared with laughter.
For all of his condition, Dick understood that pantomime. The crowd thought him drunk.
But what had happened to him? Why was he lying there in that wretched street, with the fierce sun beating on him?
He closed his eyes and tried to remember what had taken place. His effort carried him back to Fardale. For the time being he fancied he had been engaged in a desperate game of football, and in the fearful line-bucking clash he had been injured. That was it. He was lying on the football field. The narrow street, the queer, gray houses, and the mocking fiends who laughed at his misery were the hallucinations of his shocked brain.
What were the boys doing? Had they checked the charge of the enemy? Perhaps they had the ball! Possibly some one of them had carried it over the enemy’s line for a touchdown, and so, in the excitement of victory, their injured captain had been forgotten.
“Rah! rah! rah! Fardale!”
He tried to cheer. It was the duty of a true son of old Fardale to cheer as long as the breath of life remained in his body.
Once more that sound of mocking laughter reached him. Again he opened his eyes.
He saw no comrades in red and black. He saw no stand packed with cheering cadets. Again he beheld the gray buildings of the dirty street. Again he saw those leering faces and grinning mouths all around him.
“It’s a nightmare!” he whispered. “I must break the spell! I must move!”
He made a mighty effort, and, in spite of the pain, rolled over on his side.
The old man came up and kicked him back into his former position.
“Wait!” thought the boy – “wait till I get up, you dirty wretch! You’ll not wipe your feet on me after that!”
One of the crowd spat at him and called him a filthy infidel.
“I’ll try to remember you, also!” said Dick to himself.
Weakly he lifted his hands to his neck. It was paining him frightfully, and he seemed to feel marks upon it, as if something had left indelible prints in the flesh.
“I’m not in Fardale,” he thought. “I’m somewhere – somewhere – somewhere far away. Where am I? and how did I get here?”
The pressure on his head prevented him from thinking. He felt to see if an iron band were truly crushing his skull.
He could find nothing of the sort.
“I must get up! I must! I will!”
They laughed and called to him as he lifted himself little by little to his elbow. At last, with his hands on the ground and his body lurched to one side, like a man wounded unto death, he paused, breathing with a horrible, whistling sound.
“Strength – I must have strength!” he thought. “If I give up the least bit, I’ll drop back here and never rise again.”
So he waited until a little more strength came to him. He seemed to summon it by his indomitable and unyielding will.
He heard the rabble chattering about him, but he no longer heeded them.
“The ocean liner – England – Italy – Constantinople!” He was beginning to remember.
“Where is Brad? Where is the professor?”
He straightened up, in spite of all the pain it cost him. He shifted until he was on his hands and knees.
The old man, grinning maliciously, again hastened forward and lifted his foot, intending to kick the boy over.
“Stay!”
It was a single word of command, but it was spoken in a tone that caused the man to pause.
Through the crowd strode a man with a dark face and a black beard that was threaded with gray. He was dressed in garments that seemed to proclaim him a person of more than common rank. He advanced and bent over the lad, whom he lifted to a standing position, supporting him with one arm.
“Boy,” he demanded, “what does it mean? Tell me what has happened to thee and to the beautiful maiden.”
“The – the beautiful maiden?” muttered Dick. “You mean – you mean – Nadia?”
Then he remembered, and the shock caused him to straighten up stiffly. He turned and looked into the face of Ras al Had.
“You – you treacherous snake!” he panted.
With all the strength he could summon, he struck the old sheik in the face.
The mob gasped, and then it howled. It pressed forward, seeking to lay hands on the tottering boy who had dared strike one of the true faith.
Again Ras al Had drew his sword. Some of them expected to see him run the infidel through the body. Instead of that, he drove them back.
“Keep thy hands off him!” commanded the sheik. “Leave him to me!”
Once more he clutched the lad, who was swaying and apparently ready to fall.
“Don’t touch me, you traitor!” gasped Merriwell. “I wish I had left you to die beside the railroad, instead of pumping the breath of life back into your miserable, old carcass!”
“You are mad, boy.”
“That’s right, I am!”
“Tell me what happened?”
“You know!”
“By the beard of the Prophet, I swear I do not know.”
“It is no sin to lie to an infidel!”
“Ras al Had never lied to any man.”
“You do not know what happened? Well, we were betrayed by those black dogs you sent to escort us. We were led here. I was choked into unconsciousness. What has become of Nadia I cannot tell.”
A strange and terrible look came to the face of the old Arab. His eyes glittered with a deadly light.
“Do you swear that my men did this?”
“Yes.”
“Then to you I swear that each and every one of them shall pay the penalty of their treachery with his life! That is the oath of Ras al Had! Do you hear me!”
“I hear, but – ”
“You shall see that I keep it. Trust me again. With a word I might have set these men upon you to beat the life from your weak body. Why did I not speak that word?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Dick, “unless it was in order that you might have the satisfaction of deceiving me and betraying me again.”
“If I leave you now, they will fall on you. I will remain by you and take you to a place of safety. I will prove to you that I am honest. More than that, I will find the maiden and restore her to you.”
“Can – can you do it?”
“I have given my pledge. Lean on my arm. No one will place the weight of a finger on you while you are with me.”
They walked away, the old sheik supporting the boy and questioning him. Dick related everything that had taken place. As well as possible he described the appearance of the old Turk who had joined the escort sent by Ras al Had to conduct the boy and girl back to their friends.
“I think I know the man,” nodded the sheik. “I am sure I know him.”
“But your servants – you can force the truth from them.”
“I doubt if I behold any one of them for many days to come. Without doubt they were well paid for what they did, and they will endeavor to keep beyond my reach, for they know the meaning of my wrath. Yet they shall not escape me in the end.”
“But it is the girl – it is poor Nadia I am thinking of!” groaned Dick. “She may be dragged into a harem.”
“Has she friends of influence in your country?”
“Yes. She – ”
“You must appeal to the American consul. In the meantime I will be at work. Hast forgotten that she fell beneath the covetous eye of Hafsa Pasha?”
“No! I believe that wretch is behind this dirty piece of work! If so, I’ll have his life!”
“It is not likely she will be taken into a harem until the man who caused her capture learns what is going to be done about it. She will be kept somewhere for the time being. If you have influence enough to create a great disturbance about it, some day she will be set free in some remote part of the city. It will be claimed that she was captured and held for ransom by brigands. You know such a thing has happened to some of your American missionaries. If her disappearance causes no great disturbance, then the man into whose power she has fallen may add her to his harem. For a few days, however, I believe she is safe. For her captors will not dare injure her.”
To a slight degree these words relieved Dick. Of course he was still greatly distressed over what had happened to Nadia; but if she was not immediately dragged into a harem, there might be plenty of opportunity to frustrate any designs upon her.
Dick’s brain was growing clearer and his body stronger. He no longer believed that Ras al Had was concerned in bringing about the misfortune that had befallen Nadia.
“Forgive me, sheik, for striking you as I did,” he entreated. “I ask your pardon in all humbleness. I was infuriated with the conviction that you had betrayed us.”
“Say no more of that. I should have accompanied you, for then no harm would have befallen you. I feel that I am responsible; and, feeling thus, I shall leave no stone unturned to aid you. This way, we will find a conveyance at the corner. When you have reached your friends, lose no time in laying the case before your consul. He will know the best course to pursue; but meanwhile Ras al Had will be working faithfully for you.”
