Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell's Pranks: or, Lively Times in the Orient», sayfa 8
CHAPTER XV – PURCHASING A HUMAN BEING
In a large room of many mirrors with frescoed ceilings of bright colors, the floors covered with Turkish rugs, and the place lavishly furnished in Oriental style, were gathered seventeen girls of various races and still more varying beauty. The cheeks of some were dusky, while others were wonderfully fair. All were attired in such fine clothes as seemed best to enhance their good looks. They were taking their ease on divans and couches, some of them smoking cigarettes, some conversing, some remaining proudly apart from the others.
These were the girls brought to Damascus by the trader, and all were for sale, like so many cattle.
To this house came various wealthy men, who inspected the girls critically, surveying them and taking note of their charms, much after the manner of men who purchase horses in open market. The old trader was on hand to dilate on the attractions of each girl and to listen to such offers as the gentlemen chose to make.
In Damascus, as in many other parts of the Orient, this was regarded as a legitimate business. To the would-be purchasers and the old trader there was nothing of a shameful nature in connection with it. The girls thus sold would be taken to the various homes of their purchasers, there to become legitimate wives, after the custom of the country.
One girl, dressed in unusual taste, sat apart from the others, seeming too proud to attempt to enter into conversation with them. She was very pretty, and many were the envious glances cast toward her by the others.
She had lately been added to their number, and already they were gossiping that she was an English girl who found herself penniless in the country, and was willing to become the wife of some rich man.
The old trader seemed to know he had secured a prize in this girl, for the price he demanded for her was so high that several visitors who had been attracted by her and were willing to pay unusually well to secure her, were compelled to content themselves with others, although they all relinquished the hope of purchasing her with expressions of regret.
Finally a man of dignified bearing and polished appearance came sauntering into the room and paused, glancing around in a careless manner.
The moment the old trader saw this man he hastened to him, rubbing his hands and bowing very low.
“Welcome, most noble Pasha!” he exclaimed. “I am sure I shall this night have the pleasure of beholding thy pleasure. Never before has any man brought to Damascus such a collection of feminine loveliness. Verily they are pearls beyond price.”
“So I have heard, Bilmah,” was the answer. “Already I have met two who have looked on your pearls, and they informed me that you had here one that was almost priceless in your estimation. My curiosity has been greatly aroused. I would look on this English maiden.”
“Oh, there are others equally beautiful,” the trader hastened to declare – “many others. Look, yonder is a fair Circassian. I bought her from her father, and paid him – ”
“Never mind her. I am not looking for a Circassian. They weary me. I have traveled in the West, and the women of those lands interest me. I would see the English maiden.”
“But first thou shouldst see – ”
“Not another one, old man! Show me the one I wish to see.”
“But, great Pasha, it was understood between us that I should bring thither for thee the fairest Circassian I could discover – ”
The visitor cut the old man short.
“You are wasting my time, old man. Unless you show me at once the English maiden I will depart.”
The trader made a gesture of resignation.
“Come!” he said.
The visitor followed him until they paused before the divan on which sat the girl who had attracted so much attention and admiration.
“Behold her!” said Bilmah.
The girl glanced up shyly over her outspread fan, giving the Turk a sidelong glance from her fine, black eyes, in the depths of which there was a strange light that fascinated him.
Hafsa Pasha bowed very low, his hand on his heart.
“So this is the one whose charms I heard extolled ere I crossed the threshold of this house?” he said. “You are English, they tell me. It is most astonishing to find an English girl here.”
“I suppose it is,” she answered, in a very low voice that was full of strange music and gave him a decided thrill.
He sat on the floor at her feet, rolling a cigarette.
“Tell me how it happens that you are here,” he urged.
“I cannot,” she answered, in apparent great confusion. “It is a tale of misfortune. Speak of something else.”
“Are you aware what you are doing?”
“Fully.”
“Do you know that once you have entered the harem of any man who may purchase you there can be no backing out – no escape?”
“I have thought of it all.”
“And you will not be the only wife of the husband who secures you.”
“I know.”
“Still, I cannot understand you. It is utterly unlike one of your blood to do such a thing. There must be a reason for it.”
“Of course there is. Perhaps I have a brother or a friend who is in deep distress and needs money at once. Perhaps I have arranged with the trader that a certain portion of the price paid for me shall be sent at once to this person. Does that not offer an explanation?”
Hafsa Pasha lighted his cigarette and eyed her attentively.
“I have been told that the price Bilmah demands is exorbitant. Still, under certain circumstances you might be worth it to me.”
“What are the circumstances?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“If I purchase you you will be mine to do as I command.”
“Of course.”
“Possibly I have somewhere another English-speaking maiden who rebels against my authority and refuses to bow unto me.”
“Another?” laughed the girl behind her fan. “You must be fond of the English.”
“Were I to purchase you, I should expect you to become without delay the companion of this other girl. I should expect you to exert your influence upon her to lead her to submit to her lot.”
“I see nothing very hard in that.”
“But she might tell you a woeful tale of an imaginary wrong. She might seek to arouse your sympathy. She might claim that she had been captured and imprisoned against her will.”
“I am growing interested. If you can afford to pay the price demanded for me, you must be a very rich man.”
“I am far from poor.”
“You are kind to your wives?”
“I am gentleness itself.”
“They have every comfort and luxury in the home you provide for them?”
“No woman can ask for more.”
“Then this girl should soon learn to be contented and happy. She has some peculiar ideas in her head just now, but she will get over them. If you purchase me, I shall do everything in my power for her.”
“You Western women are remarkable. No woman of the East would talk to me like this. I almost fear you. I seem to feel that you possess a strange power that our women know nothing of.”
Again she laughed.
“You’ll get used to me in time,” she said. “That is, you will if you are not bluffing.”
“Bluffing? Perhaps I know what you mean, and still – ”
“I mean about paying the price Bilmah demands. I have seen men who pretended they were ready and willing to spend money when they had no thought of doing so.”
“You shall see what I mean to do. Of course I have a right to make the best bargain possible with old Bilmah.”
“No; you must pay the price he demands. Whatever you induce him to take off you keep from the one to whom he is to send the money.”
“Do you trust him to forward it?”
“That is fixed. The one who got me in here will see that Bilmah does not cheat.”
“Very well. Although as yet I have seen scarcely more of your face than your eyes and forehead, yet I am going to pay the price. Be ready to leave this place directly. I shall have a carriage at the door in less than ten minutes.”
Then Hafsa Pasha arose and sought the old trader.
CHAPTER XVI – THE SWORD IS STAINED
Nadia Budthorne had wept until the fount of tears seemed dry. She had beaten with her hands against the heavy door of her prison room until her knuckles streamed blood. She had shouted and screamed until she sank exhausted to the floor.
How much time had passed she knew not. When a tray of food was slipped into the room she had no knowledge of the occurrence. She first saw it on the floor near the door, but not a morsel did she touch.
She lay prone and helpless and despairing when a rustling sound startled and aroused her. She rose swiftly on one hand, and then a cry of astonishment escaped her pale lips, for before her stood a beautiful girl. Behind the stranger the door was silently closing.
“Who – who – are – you?” asked Nadia hoarsely.
“Your friend,” was the answer, in a softly sympathetic voice.
“Friend? You are a stranger.”
“Still I am your friend. Let me help you.”
“Your voice!” muttered Nadia. “It seems familiar, somehow, and yet – I’ve never seen you before.”
The strange girl assisted Nadia to rise, and led her to a couch. She was much larger than Nadia, and seemed somewhat older.
“My poor child!” she murmured. “How you have suffered!”
“Oh, how I have suffered!” moaned Nadia. “But why are you here? I do not understand it. You – you are English or American. You cannot be – ”
“Hush! Do not speak so loud.”
“No one can hear us. I have screamed until I lost my voice. These terrible walls smother all sounds.”
The strange girl was looking around searchingly. Leaving Nadia, she made a quick circuit of the room, searching the walls with her eyes. She paused to try the door and then returned to the couch.
“Listen,” she whispered, lifting her finger warningly. “Keep your nerve now. Do not utter a cry. I am here to save you.”
Nadia showed her incredulity.
“To save me?” she whispered back. “How can that be? Who are you?”
“One of your best friends.”
“I will not believe it! It is another trick!”
“It is no trick, as far as you are concerned. It may be a trick on Hafsa Pasha.”
“Then he – ”
“You are his captive.”
“I knew it! The monster! If my brother – if Brad and Dick find this out he shall suffer!”
“If you promise to do just as I direct I will save you from that man.”
“How can you? You are only a woman.”
“That’s what I appear to be.”
“You cannot be more than nineteen.”
“Younger than that,” was the reply. “Still I will save you.”
“It’s impossible! They brought you here to deceive me!”
“That’s correct. Old Hafsa did it himself, but he is the one deceived. To-night he paid a handsome price for me, with the idea of adding me to his harem. Oh, I must laugh! I must! Where’s my handkerchief! Let me smother the sound!”
The strange girl stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth and laughed until her face was fairly purple. Her whole body shook with merriment.
Nadia’s bewilderment increased.
“I don’t know why you laugh. It’s a fearful thing to be imprisoned in a harem. Hafsa Pasha has bought you, and you must submit to him. You must be a faithful wife, imprisoned within a harem.”
“Oh, a fine old wife I’ll make!” chuckled the other. “Oh, dear! It’s a mighty dangerous lark, but it’s awful funny, just the same.”
Suddenly Nadia clutched her companion’s shoulder.
“Tell me who you are!” she commanded.
“All right. Keep your nerve. Don’t utter a sound. Are you ready?”
Nadia nodded.
“I am Dick Merriwell.”
The girl almost fainted.
“Dick?” she gasped – “Dick? Impossible! Yet – yet I believe you – you are! Why, how – ”
“Can’t explain in full. Fooled old Hafsa. If Ras al Had does not fail me we’ll have you out of this before morning. If Hafsa only knew – ”
A sound behind him caused Dick to turn and spring up.
The door had opened to admit Hafsa Pasha himself, and his face was contorted with rage. He glared at Dick.
“So you did fool me, did you?” he snarled. “You thought I could not hear your words, but there is a place in this wall where a person listening outside may hear and understand the softest whisper spoken here. You deceived me, but it will cost you your life!”
He drew a knife.
From some part of his clothes Dick Merriwell whipped forth a heavy revolver, which he leveled at the Turk’s heart.
“Halt right where you are!” he commanded clearly. “Another step and I’ll drill a hole through your dastardly heart! I came prepared for any emergency.”
Hafsa Pasha uttered a cry. It was answered somewhere outside the room.
But at that moment there came from a distant portion of the house the sound of heavy, crashing blows.
The Turk turned pale.
“What’s that?” he gasped.
“I have an idea it is Ras al Had,” said Dick. “Stop! Stand in your tracks! Try to leave the room and I’ll drop you!”
The noise ended in one great crash. Then came the soft shuffle of many unbooted feet.
“Hither, sheik!” cried Dick.
There was a struggle outside, smothered cries, a fall. Then Ras al Had, backed by several black men, together with Brad Buckhart and Dunbar Budthorne, appeared at the door.
“Still safe, boy?” said the old Arab. “I dared not wait. I had located the maiden’s prison, and I sent one of my servants to bring her friends from the hotel. Then the carriage came, and I saw you enter, accompanied by him. I feared longer delay would be fatal for you. We broke down the door. It seems that we entered just in time.”
Hafsa Pasha was yellow with rage.
“You old scum of the desert!” he cried. “You are behind it all! It is your trick!”
“I have not forgotten the fate of my brother, Pasha. His blood still cries aloud for vengeance.”
“I’ll send you to join him!”
The Turk had held the drawn knife hidden at his side. Now he made a pantherish leap toward the sheik and struck with the weapon.
Ras al Had threw up his arm. The blade was driven through the muscles of the forearm, but with a sweep the Arab sent Hafsa Pasha reeling.
At the same time he unsheathed his sword.
When the Turk recovered and sprang forward again he was met by the sheik, who drove the keen sword straight through Hafsa Pasha’s body.
Brad Buckhart had reached Nadia, and she fainted in his arms.
CHAPTER XVII – A POSITION OF PERIL
There was a great uproar in Damascus. Hafsa Pasha, an exiled Turk, once a prime favorite of the sultan, had been slain in a house within the city limits.
Rumors were flying thick. There were many wild stories passing from lip to lip. It was said that some foreigners had been concerned in the murder of the Pasha.
The Moslems were aroused, and they cried out for vengeance on the murderers. Some said that a young and beautiful girl was connected with the affair. It was said that she had tried to delude the Pasha and rob him, and that in the end her friends, aided by a number of Arabs, had slain him in the house to which the girl decoyed him.
These stories aroused the followers of “the true faith” to a high pitch of resentment against all “infidels” in the city at that time. Foreign visitors were warned against appearing on the streets, as they were almost certain to be insulted, roughly treated, and possibly slain.
The foreigners stopping at the German hotel were greatly alarmed. Many of them were planning to get out of the city as soon as possible. Some had heard the early mutterings of the storm and departed on the train for Beirut that day.
Professor Z. Gunn was in a state of great distress. He found Dick Merriwell and Brad Buckhart in earnest consultation in their room and seized each by an arm, exclaiming:
“This is what it has come to! You can see! We’re still in the sultan’s domain. There will be an uprising. These fanatical Mohammedans will massacre every Christian and foreigner they can find in the place! I feel it coming. The streets of Damascus will flow with blood before night!”
“You’re excited, professor,” said Dick.
“Excited!” squawked the old man, nearly losing his false teeth and clapping his hand over his mouth to keep them from popping out. “Ugh! Oogah-um! Cluck! Who wouldn’t be excited? There is something to get excited over. We’re almost certain to be murdered!”
“I hardly think,” said Merriwell, “that the Turks will carry it that far. We are citizens of the United States, with passports in our pockets, and the sultan would have trouble on his hands with Yankee Doodle Land if his subjects were to murder us.”
“You bet your boots!” put in Buckhart.
“But the sultan isn’t here to stop it,” spluttered Zenas. “The Turks are infuriated over the death of Hafsa Pasha. They are urging on all Moslemites in the city. None of them are counting on the consequences. They’ll do the killing first and consider the consequences afterward.”
“No one has been killed yet,” said Dick. “The authorities are doing their best to hold the fanatics in check.”
“By promising to apprehend and bring to justice the murderers of Hafsa Pasha. Mind, they say murderers. That means every one who was present when the man was killed. I was right here last night when Brad and Budthorne went away with those Arabs. I’m not the only one who knows about that. You were present, Richard, when Hafsa Pasha’s enemy slew him. Brad was there, Budthorne was there. You’re all concerned. You’re every one wanted as participants in the crime.”
“It was vengeance,” said Dick. “Ras al Had, the old sheik, slew Hafsa Pasha, and Hafsa Pasha years ago sold Ras al Had’s brother into slavery. The sheik found his brother dying in the desert, and he swore to have vengeance on the treacherous Pasha when the time came. Last night he carried out his oath and then fled from the city.”
“That won’t clear you, boys,” asserted Professor Gunn. “You were concerned in breaking into the house where the Pasha was killed.”
“Sure we were,” nodded Brad Buckhart.
“I didn’t have to break in,” said Dick, with a twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Oh, Richard,” said the professor, “that was a scandalous thing! Hafsa Pasha was fooled into paying a large sum for you.”
Buckhart grinned.
“He was going to add you to his harem, pard. Oh, say! that was the richest thing ever! The boys will die of laughter back at school when I tell them about it.”
“Hem! haw! Haw! hem!” coughed the professor. “It looks just now as if you’ll never get back to Fardale to tell anything. Drat it, boys, you don’t seem to comprehend the terrible peril we’re in!”
“We comprehend it, all right,” asserted Dick; “but we can’t see any sense in getting ratty over it. Hafsa Pasha got exactly what was coming to him.”
“You bet he did!” nodded the Texan.
“The right or wrong of it makes no difference to these fanatics,” said Zenas. “They won’t stop to ask who was right and who was wrong. They’ll just go ahead and chop up the foreigners. This hotel is watched. The people in it have been warned against leaving it. A few got away on the train, but the rest of the people in the place are panic-stricken. They realize the danger. The trouble with you two reckless young rascals is that you do not realize the peril. Somebody is going to confess that two persons left this hotel in the night. They’ll trace the two. It will be found out that you were present when the Pasha was killed, and your lives will not be worth a penny. Oh, it’s a – Hark! What’s that?”
From the street outside came a peculiar, blood-chilling sound. It was like the low snarling of many voices, and it grew louder and louder until it became a sullen, muttering roar.
The three rushed to the window and looked out. What they saw caused the old professor to turn pale and faint.
A great mob had gathered in front of the hotel, all Turks or people of the Moslem faith, and others were coming rapidly from many directions.
The crowd was armed with clubs, sticks, stones, and so forth. A few flourished swords or other deadly weapons.
They are crying out in their indignation against the foreigners. A crooked, befezzed Turk was their leader. At sight of him Dick Merriwell uttered an exclamation.
“See that man?” he cried – “the one who is urging the mob on?”
“I sure see the varmint,” nodded Buckhart.
“Well, he’s the old wretch who bribed Ras al Had’s black men to betray Nadia and myself.”
“That dog, eh?” growled the Texan, taking something from his pocket. “Well, I reckon I can just about shoot a couple of holes through his big ears at this distance.”
Professor Gunn uttered a squawk of terror and clutched the wrist of the grim-faced boy from the Panhandle country.
“You’re crazy, Bradley!” he gasped. “You’re mad!”
“I admit the accusation,” said Buckhart. “I am mad – a heap mad.”
“If you were to fire at that man it would precipitate the destruction of this hotel and the murder of every inmate!”
“The professor is right, Brad,” said Dick quietly. “Put up your gun.”
“I’d certain like to – ”
“Never mind that. Put up the weapon and bide your time. You may be compelled to use it in self-defense before this day is over. Hear those creatures!”
The mob was howling:
“Death to the foreigners!”
“Kill the infidels!”
“Burn their hotel!”
“Destroy them! Destroy them!”
“Death to the unbelievers!”
Wildly waving his arms, the crooked old Turk shrilly yelled:
“They have defiled our city and our temples! They have basely murdered one of the true faith!”
“Ah-yah!” snarled the mob.
Then some one hurled a stone. There was a crash of glass in the lower part of the hotel. A volley of stones followed, smashing glass and raining against the building in a shower.
“It begins to look pretty bad,” confessed Dick.
Dunbar Budthorne, followed by Nadia, came hurrying into the room. Budthorne was agitated and his sister was very pale.
“What is happening?” asked Dunbar.
“Take a look out of this window and you will see,” answered Dick.
Nadia pressed forward to look, but drew back, shuddering.
Brad sought to reassure her.
“It’s only a lot of crazy fools,” he said. “Don’t be frightened, Nadia.”
“But they are mad! They mean to destroy the hotel and murder us all!”
“I don’t reckon the governor will permit that.”
“Can we do nothing?” asked Budthorne. “Can’t we apply to the American consul?”
“We tried that yesterday when Nadia disappeared,” reminded Dick, “and the American consul was out of the city.”
“Then there is the British consul. Surely he will act if we call on him.”
“I doubt if he has the power,” said Professor Gunn. “We are in a terrible predicament. I fear the horror of 1860 is about to be repeated.”
“What happened in 1860?” asked Dunbar.
“Six thousand unarmed and unoffending Christians and foreigners were massacred in Damascus, and nearly twice as many more outside the city, in Syria.”
“Oh, dreadful!” gasped Nadia, growing faint and being assisted to a chair by Buckhart. “What if it happens again? Oh, I believe it is going to happen!”
At this juncture a fiercer outburst of noise rose from the street, and again Dick Merriwell looked out of the window, the others pressing close behind him.
It seemed that some one from the hotel had ventured to step outside to address the crowd. Instantly his words were drowned by howls, and shrieks, and curses, while a shower of missiles drove him back to shelter.
Then some one espied the little group in the upper window and called attention to it. Instantly the crowd began shouting insults at our friends and shaking their fists at them.
“Take Nadia back from the window, Brad,” advised Dick, in a low tone. “Keep her mind distracted as much as possible from this.”
Again Buckhart conducted the girl to a chair.
“Better all get back,” said Professor Gunn. “We’re just adding to their fury by standing in the window and watching them.”
They moved back a little, but the mob continued to rage and snarl, like a pack of infuriated wild animals.
“Was no one punished for the other massacre?” asked Dick.
“The powers of Europe finally interfered,” answered the professor. “The Turkish government was compelled to punish some one, so Ahmad Pasha, the governor, lost his head. That was about the extent of the punishing.”
“Well the present governor ought to remember Ahmad Pasha. If he isn’t careful he may lose his head.”
The whole hotel was in a state of great excitement, as Dick learned by stepping outside the room, and listening. Women were weeping and wailing, while white-faced men hurried hither and thither, up and down, without seeming able to decide on anything. He heard two men talking, and one was telling the other that already the mob had murdered a man in the open street.
“It’s pretty serious,” Dick decided. “Once let a mob like that get a taste of blood, and there is no telling where the affair will end. I fear this will be a bloody day for Damascus. If they begin killing, the odds are against any one of us escaping with his life.”
One of the men below was speaking again.
“They say this thing started over the unwarranted murder of an exiled Pasha.”
“That’s the report, and I was told a few minutes ago that the mob declares the murderers of the Pasha are in this very hotel. That is why it has been singled out as the first point of attack.”
“I’ve heard more than that,” declared the first speaker. “I understand that the real cause of all this trouble is an American girl, stopping here. She must be an adventuress, for they say she got gay with the Pasha who was murdered, and decoyed him to the place where he was assassinated. I’ve seen the girl, too.”
“You have?”
“Yes. She’s here in company with her brother. Has been here several days. Day before yesterday two boys and an old man joined them.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed that party. And they say this girl caused all the trouble?”
“Yes. Some of the rest of the party were concerned in the murder of the Pasha. The crowd outside is demanding that this girl and her friends be given up. If the proprietor will surrender them it is possible the rest of us may escape with our lives.”
“Then we had better unite in urging him to give that party up. It’s a case of self-preservation, and – ”
“I favor it myself.”
Dick had slipped quietly down the stairs, and now he suddenly confronted the two men. His face was pale, but his dark eyes flashed.
“I have a few words to say to you,” he said, his voice low but clear and steady. “I don’t know where you hail from, but I do know that you are two of the most contemptible cowards it has ever been my bad fortune to chance upon. No one but cowards would think of surrendering an innocent and helpless girl into the hands of a maddened and murderous mob, like the one outside this hotel.”
Having expressed himself in this manner, the fearless American lad stood squarely facing them both.
There was a hush.
Outside the mob was heard muttering sullenly.
The two men gazed at Dick in surprise. One was a tall man, the other decidedly below medium height.
“Why – why – ” gasped the short man, and then choked, as if unable to find further words.
The tall man shook himself together.
“Look here, you insolent young puppy,” he exclaimed, “how dare you come here and use such language to us?”
“Yes,” put in the short man, with an attempt at bluster, “how dare you?”
“I do not think there is much to fear from two men who would deliberately talk of surrendering an innocent girl into the hands of a murderous mob,” retorted Merriwell.
“Innocent girl!” sneered the tall man.
“Yes, innocent! Be careful, sir! I’m only a boy, but I know the girl, and another insulting slur from your lips will be resented in a manner you will not like.”
Both men were astonished.
“Why, I believe he would tackle us both!” muttered the short man.
“You know the girl, do you?” said the tall one, overlooking Dick’s threat, as if he did not consider it worth noticing further. “And you claim she is innocent?”
“I happen to know.”
“Didn’t she decoy the Pasha to the house where he was murdered?”
Dick’s lips curled.
“Instead of that, sir, she was seized while walking on the street, her escort assaulted and knocked down, and the ruffians imprisoned her in a house. Where were you yesterday that you heard nothing of this?”
“We made a trip into the country outside the city,” explained the little man.
“It happens that I was the one accompanying her when she was seized and carried off,” added Dick. “By chance this girl, who is perfectly innocent of wrongdoing, fell beneath the notice of Hafsa Pasha, a bad man, who resolved to add her to his harem. He was baffled, and he deserved the fate he met. However, none of our party had anything to do with that. He was killed by an old enemy, whom he had bitterly wronged. These are the facts, gentlemen. Now, in order to save your fine necks you talk about turning her over to that snarling pack of wolves at the door! I am ashamed of you both!”
In spite of his youth he made them feel ashamed of themselves.
“Oh, well, oh, well,” said the little man apologetically; “we didn’t understand, you know. If we had – ”
“But I don’t fancy being talked to in this manner by a mere boy,” growled the other.
“I didn’t expect you would fancy it,” said Dick, with continued boldness. “Lots of people do not fancy being told the plain truth. Often it cuts to the quick. If you wish to do what you can to save yourselves, be prepared to fight for your lives if the mob breaks in here, but do not talk of surrendering a girl to be murdered by that pack of maddened beasts. On the contrary, you should be ready to defend her with your last drop of blood.”
Having scorched them in this manner, Dick turned and remounted the stairs.
The tall man made a move as if to stop him, but checked himself.
Barely had Dick disappeared when a figure advanced quickly from the shadows at the rear of the hall and spoke in a low tone to the two men.
“I beg your pardon,” said a soft voice, with a pronounced accent that seemed to proclaim him either a Spaniard or an Italian. “I happened to overhear a part of your conversation with that boy. I know him.”
The stranger was slim and dark, with a slight mustache, which curled upward at the ends. He had coal-black eyes, which were very restless and very piercing. His hands were small and slim, almost womanish.
The two men looked at him in some surprise. As they did not speak at once he went on hurriedly:
“It seems that I arrived in Damascus just in time to get into this unfortunate trap, from which not one of us may escape with our lives. I am just here. I would I were elsewhere. I know that boy – know him most exceedingly well. He is a thorough rascal. He was compelled to leave England in a hurry to escape imprisonment for robbery. He is a card sharp, although, on account of his years, he does not, to strangers, seem to be such. That is why he deceives the great number of people with such perfect ease. In Italy he was concerned with a very dangerous and desperate band of criminals, and from that country he hurried with much haste to avoid punishment. Since then he has been wandering about in various lands, accompanied by another boy and an old man, who are his accomplices. They tell that the old man is the tutor and guardian of the boys, but this I do assure you is a fabrication.”
