CHAPTER XXV
THE RESCUE OF PEGGY
Brewster's heart almost ceased beating, and every vestige of color lefthis face. Clear and distinct in the light from the yacht the Arab andhis burden were outlined against the black screen beyond. There was nomistaking the earnestness of the threat, nor could the witnesses doubtthe ghastly intention of the long, cruel knife that gleamed on high.Peggy's body served as a shield for that of her captor. Brewster andBragdon recognized the man as one of Mohammed's principal retainers, afierce-looking fellow who had attracted more than usual attention onthe day of the sheik's visit.
"For God's sake, don't kill her!" cried Brewster in agonized tones.There was a diabolical grin on the face of the Arab, who was about toshout back some defiant taunt when the unexpected happened.
The sharp crack of a gun sounded in the stern of Brewster's boat, andan unerring bullet sped straight for the big Arab's forehead. Itcrashed between his eyes and death must have been instantaneous. Theknife flew from his hand, his body straightened and then collapsed,toppling over, not among his oarsmen, but across the gunwale of thecraft. Before a hand could be lifted to prevent, the dead Arab and thegirl were plunged into the sea.
A cry of horror went up from the Americans, and something surprisinglylike a shout of triumph from the abductors. Even as Brewster poised forthe spring into the water a flying form shot past him and into the seawith a resounding splash. The man that fired the shot had reckonedcleverly, and he was carrying out the final details of an inspiredplan. The Arab's position as he stood in the boat was such as towarrant the sailor's belief that he could fall no other way thanforward, and that meant over the side of the boat. With all thisclearly in mind he had shot straight and true and was on his way to thewater almost as the two toppled overboard.
Monty Brewster was in the water an instant later, striking out for thespot where they had disappeared, a little to the left of the course inwhich his boat was running. There was a rattle of firearms, with cursesand cheers, but he paid no heed to these sounds. He was a length or twobehind the sailor, praying with all his soul that one or the othermight succeed in reaching the white robes that still kept the surfaceof the water. His crew was "backing water" and straining every muscleto bring the boat around sharp for the rescue.
The sailor's powerful strokes brought him to the spot first, but not intime to clutch the disappearing white robes. Just as he reached out anarm to grasp the form of the girl she went down. He did not hesitate asecond but followed. Peggy had fallen from the dead Arab's embrace, andthat worthy already was at the bottom of the sea. She was halfconscious when the shot came, but the plunge into the cold waterrevived her. Her struggles were enough to keep her up for a fewmoments, but not long enough for the swimmers to reach her side. Shefelt herself going down and down, strangling, smothering, dying. Thensomething vise-like clutched her arm and she had the sensation of beingjerked upward violently.
The sailor fought his way to the surface with the girl, and Brewsterwas at his side in an instant. Together they supported her until one ofthe boats came up, and they were drawn over the side to safety. By thistime the abductors had scattered like sheep without a leader, and asthere was no further object in pursuing them the little American fleetput back for the yacht in great haste. Peggy was quite conscious whencarried aboard by the triumphant Brewster. The words he whispered toher as she lay in the bottom of the boat were enough to give her life.
The excitement on board the "Flitter" was boundless. Fear gave way tojoy, and where despair had for a moment reigned supreme, there was nowthe most insane delight. Peggy was bundled below and into her berth,Dr. Lotless attending her, assisted by all the women on board. Brewsterand the sailor, drenched but happy, were carried on the shoulders ofenthusiastic supporters to a place where hot toddies were to be hadbefore blankets.
"You have returned the favor, Conroy," said Brewster fervently, as heleaned across the heads of his bearers to shake hands with the sailorwho was sharing the honors with him. Conroy was grinning from ear toear as he sat perched on the shoulders of his shipmates. "I was luckierthan I thought in saving your life that day."
"It wasn't anything, Mr. Brewster," said young Conroy. "I saw a chanceto drop the big nigger, and then it was up to me to get her out of thewater."
"You took a big risk, Conroy, but you made good with it. If it had notbeen for you, my boy, they might have got away with Miss Gray."
"Don't mention it, Mr. Brewster, it was nothing to do," protestedConroy in confusion. "I'd do anything in the world for you and for her."
"What is the adage about casting your bread upon the water and gettingit back again?" asked "Rip" Van Winkle of Joe Bragdon as theyjubilantly followed the procession below.
There was no more sleep on board that night. In fact the sun was notlong in showing itself after the rescuers returned to the vessel. Thedaring attempt of Mohammed's emissaries was discussed withoutrestraint, and every sailor had a story to tell of the pursuit andrescue. The event furnished conversational food for days and days amongboth the seamen and the passengers. Dan DeMille blamed himselfrelentlessly for sleeping through it all and moped for hours because hehad lost a magnificent chance to "do something." The next morning heproposed to hunt for the sheik, and offered to lead an assault inperson. An investigation was made and government officials tried tocall Mohammed to account, but he had fled to the desert and the searchwas fruitless.
Brewster refused to accept a share of the glory of Peggy's rescue,pushing Conroy forward as the real hero. But the sailor insisted thathe could not have succeeded without help,--that he was completelyexhausted when Monty came to the rescue. Peggy found it hard to thankhim gently while her heart was so dangerously near the riot point, andher words of gratitude sounded pitifully weak and insufficient.
"It would have been the same had anybody else gone to her rescue," hemused dejectedly. "She cares for me with the devotion of a sister andthat's all. Peggy, Peggy," he moaned, "if you could only love me,I'd--I'd--oh, well, there's no use thinking about it! She will lovesome one else, of course, and--and be happy, too. If she'd appear onlyone-tenth as grateful to me as to Conroy I'd be satisfied. He had theluck to be first, that's all, but God knows I tried to do it."
Mrs. Dan DeMille was keen enough to see how the land lay, and she atonce tried to set matters straight. She was far too clever to push hercampaign ruthlessly, but laid her foundations and then built cunninglyand securely with the most substantial material that came to hand fromday to day. Her subjects were taking themselves too deeply to heart toappreciate interference on the part of an outsider, and Mrs. Dan waswise in the whims of love.
Peggy was not herself for several days after her experience, and thewhole party felt a distinct relief when the yacht finally left theharbor and steamed off to the west. A cablegram that came the daybefore may have had something to do with Brewster's depression, but hewas not the sort to confess it. It was from Swearengen Jones, of Butte,Montana, and there was something sinister in the laconic admonition. Itread:
"BREWSTER, U.S. CONSULATE, ALEXANDRIA.
"Have a good time while good times last.
"JONES."
His brain was almost bursting with the hopes and fears anduncertainties that crowded it far beyond its ordinary capacity. It hadcome to the point, it seemed to him, when the brains of a dozen men atleast were required to operate the affairs that were surging into hisalone. The mere fact that the end of his year was less than two monthsoff, and that there was more or less uncertainty as to the character ofthe end, was sufficient cause for worry, but the new trouble wasinfinitely harder to endure. When he sat down to think over hisfinancial enterprises his mind treacherously wandered off to PeggyGray, and then everything was hopeless. He recalled the courage andconfidence that had carried him to Barbara Drew with a declaration oflove--to the stunning, worldly Barbara--and smiled bitterly when he sawhow basely the two allies were deserting him in this hour of love forPeggy Gray. For some reason he had felt sure of Barb
ara; for anotherreason he saw no chance with Peggy. She was not the same sort--she wasdifferent. She was--well, she was Peggy.
Occasionally his reflections assumed the importance of calculations.His cruise was sure to cost $200,000, a princely sum, but not enough.Swearengen Jones and his cablegram did not awe him to a great extent.The spending of the million had become a mania with him now and he hadno regard for consequences. His one desire, aside from Peggy, was toincrease the cost of the cruise. They were leaving Gibraltar when a newidea came into his troubled head.
He decided to change his plans and sail for the North Cape, therebyadding more than $30,000 to his credit.