CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
END OF THE CONTEST--DEATH OF THYRA.
Thyra was securely protected by these gallant tars until the rest ofthe party came up, which was not long, for after a slight skirmish,Jack and his friends managed to cut through the new force of opposingTurks, and make their way towards the ship.
Ibrahim Pasha, enraged at being thus defied, still pressed on, followedby all his force, but they only arrived at the shore in time to seeJack and the others embarking in the boats.
He now had recourse to threats.
"In the name of His Imperial Majesty the Sultan," he said to theofficer in command, "I command you to give up to me these Englishmen,who have escaped from justice."
"They are British subjects," returned the officer, "who have sought theprotection of their flag."
"Shall British subjects commit crime and yet go free?" inquiredIbrahim.
"What crime have they committed?" asked the officer.
"Murder--the assassination of his highness, Moley Pasha."
"What evidence have you to show to connect them with his death?" askedthe officer. "If you have but sufficient evidence, they shall be triedbefore a proper tribunal. Where the English flag floats, justice shallbe done to all."
The pasha bit his lip.
He knew that his evidence against these Englishmen was very slight,being in fact only the assertion of Murray and Chivey, and that anymistake on his part would bring on political trouble that might be hisruin, so he began to draw in.
"At least," he said, "you can not refuse to give me back my ownproperty, stolen from my palace."
"That's a reasonable request enough," answered the lieutenant. "Pointout your property, and you shall have it."
"There it is," exclaimed Ibrahim, as he pointed to Thyra.
"That your property, eh?" said the astonished officer. "Well, a verynice property too. But how was she stolen?"
"Stolen from my harem by that son of Eblis!" cried the old pasha,pointing to Jack.
"Ah, young man, I see how it is," said the officer, gravely shaking hishead; "you've been going it rather too fast, and brought on thistrouble all on account of this Greek girl."
"It's a lie," cried Jack, looking fiercely at the pasha; "she never wasstolen, and never did belong to that old coffee-coloured villain, andwhat's more, never shall, if Britons can protect her. She fled of herown accord from the palace of Moley Pasha, before he arrived, andsought protection from me and my friends in the town."
"In that case," said the officer, "we cannot give her up, for theBritish government does not recognise slavery, domestic or otherwise.Under our flag she is free."
A cheer of defiance from the group of English sailors greeted thisspeech.
"By the soul of the prophet," fiercely exclaimed the pasha, "am I to bedefied by a boy, and an infidel--a son of Sheitan, to boot?"
"Boy as I am, I defy you," retorted Jack.
This was a bold, but foolish and incautious speech, destined to bedisastrous.
The pasha, goaded to madness by Jack's words and defiant manner, drewhis pistol and discharged it pointblank at our hero.
The action was a rapid one--so rapid as to take Jack unawares, but notso rapid as the love-quickened perceptions of Thyra.
She saw the pasha's movement, and throwing herself forward, seized Jackjust in time to draw him aside.
By so doing, she saved his life, but at the expense of her own.
The bullet lodged in her breast, and with a cry she fell wounded intoJack's arms.
The disaster had come so quickly that our hero scarcely comprehendedwhat had happened.
The pasha frowned darkly when he saw Thyra fall.
Some remorse was awakened, even in his iron heart.
He had intended to take a life, but not hers, and now indeed the Pearlof the Isles was lost to him for evermore.
"'Tis you now, pasha, who have committed crime," said the lieutenant,"and for this I call you to account. Surrender to answer for thisdeed."
"Surrender to Christian dogs! Never," answered the fierce Ibrahim.
"Then, men, fire upon these Turks," said the officer.
The rifles of the sailors were accordingly brought to cover upon thepasha's force.
Ibrahim immediately recognised a fresh and imminent danger, andresolved on a retreat.
Turning his horse, he gave the signal to his followers, and the wholebody marched off rapidly, pursued by the fire of the English.
During this parley, Kara-al-Zariel and his Arabs had taken advantage ofthe preoccupation of their foes, to withdraw to the range of ruggedrocks near the shore, which would at once shelter them from the attacksof the Turks and give them the advantage of being near their Englishallies in the ship.
But the pasha, now that the main objects of his expedition had escapedhim, did not make any further attempts to pursue the Bedouins.
He and the remnant of his forces made the best of their way across thedesert to the town.
And now all attention was drawn towards Thyra.
All perceived, with the deepest regret, that her hours were numbered.
She had been that day in the thick of more than one deadly conflict.
Hundreds of bullets had passed her, but this one, aimed at another, hadonly too successfully performed an errand of death.
Terrible indeed was the grief of Jack Harkaway.
"Oh, Thyra," he exclaimed, "my brave, dear girl, he has killed you."
"I know it," she replied, with a mournful resignation, "but thankHeaven you, dear Jack, are saved."
"I have not deserved this devotion from you," said Jack, in brokenaccents, while the tears fell from his eyes, "but you must not--shallnot die thus. Can nothing be done for her?" he asked, looking round atthe others.
"I fear not," replied the lieutenant, "but she must at once be taken onboard, and placed under the care of the surgeon."
Thyra had been lifted up and her wound staunched with her scarf.
"Here, Harry," said our hero, rousing himself from his grief, "help meto carry her to the boat."
But ere his friend could fulfil his request, a tall, wild forminterposed between them, a brown, sinewy hand convulsively clutchedJack's arm to draw him away.
"No hand but mine," cried a voice broken by intense grief, "shall bearthe Pearl of the Isles to yonder boat."
It was the Arab chief, Al-Zariel, his face haggard with grief, his darkeyes gazing mournfully at the pale but beautiful face of her he loved.
He raised her tenderly, this wild warrior of the desert--tenderly as achild, and disdained all aid, and bore her in his strong arms to theboat.
The others drew back; no one at that moment had the heart to say himnay.
Even the rough sailors, and the still rougher Arabs, were touched bythe mournful scene before them.
It was indeed a solemn procession to the boats, almost a funeral_cortege_, for they bore one, who, though not yet dead, would neversee another day's sun arise.
Kara-al-Zariel gently deposited the dying girl in the boat.
"I have known her but a day," murmured the Arab chief, "and during thatday she has shone upon my path like a gleam of sunshine from the gatesof Paradise. From the first instant I saw her I loved her as I haveloved no other, and as I shall love no other to my life's end."
He stooped and imprinted a passionate kiss upon that marble brow,pressing as he did so the lifeless hand, gazing into the fast-fixingeyes, and murmuring "Farewell" in his native tongue.
She understood him, and with a smile of gratitude, answered him in thesame language.
The boat put off.
Kara-al-Zariel, standing on the sands, watched it for some moments, andthen, as if unable longer to bear the sight, turned away, knelt uponthe beach, and covered his eyes with his hands.
It was not grief alone that made him kneel beneath the open vault ofHeaven.
In that terrible moment he registered to Heaven a vow of vengeanceagainst the pasha who had slain the Pearl of
the Isles.
The sturdy tars bent to their oars, and the boat left the murmuringwaters of the sunlit Mediterranean.
Arriving on the ship, Thyra was placed with all care and tendernessupon deck.
The doctor examined the wound, and shook his head gravely.
"I can do nothing here!" he said, in subdued tones.
None answered him; only they saw too plainly that his words were final.
Poor Jack Harkaway! If ever in his young life he had felt grief, it wasnow, when he saw one who had so hopelessly loved him, dying throughthat very love.
"I am not afraid to die," said Thyra, in her low, faint voice, "and todie in this way is the best of all; for my future life might have madeboth you and myself unhappy."
"Unhappy! How could that be, Thyra?" asked Jack, as he knelt besideher, his hand clasped in hers, her dying eyes looking upwards into hisface.
"Because your love is given to another," she sighed, "and, therefore,mine is hopeless; but oh, may that other--whoever she may be--be nowand ever happy in your love."
"You have died for my sake!" he said, "and can you think I can feel anything but the deepest gratitude, the most tender feelings, towards you?No, dear Thyra, I love you now, if I have not before."
"To hear that from your lips," she murmured, "is to die happy. All Iask now, is that you will always remember the little Greek girl wholoved you, and--and who was unhappy in her life, and happy in herdeath."
"Remember you!" said Jack, "remember you, my noble Thyra! after whatyou have done? Always! always! Do not pain me by fearing that I mayforget you."
"Then I am happy still; listen. Here are a chain and a cross of gold;keep them in remembrance of me, and when I am dead, have me conveyed,if it is possible, to the land of my birth, the beautiful island ofNaxos, where my parents still live. Bury me there."
Jack promised this, and the old captain of the ship declared that hewould have her last request fulfilled.
Thyra's strength was now almost exhausted, but, with a last effort, sheraised herself from Jack's supporting arms, and addressed those aroundher.
"Friends," she said, "I give you many, many thanks for what you havedone for me, in protecting me and aiding my escape. I can but give youthanks and my farewell. Farewell!" she added, "to the bright blue sky,the golden sea, and the beautiful green island where I was born andwhere I hope to rest when I am no more."
Here her voice died into a murmur, and the rest was inaudible to allbut Jack.
Jack stooped as the Arab chief had done, and impressed a fervent kissupon the fair young face, still bent lovingly towards him. At thatmoment he felt an electric thrill convulse her frame, followed by acomplete stillness. In that last fond embrace her spirit had fled.
Thyra's troubles were over.
Two days afterwards the ship, whose captain had undertaken to conveyJack and his friends from those turbulent shores, touched at the Greekisland of Naxos. There Thyra's parents were found, and the sad news oftheir child's death communicated to them.
She was buried in the little cemetery close to the shore, and amidgroves of cypress and gardens of flowers, where sweet birds sing andsea breezes softly murmur, lies the beautiful Greek girl who loved anddied for young Jack Harkaway.
And all hearts were heavy with grief when, after the funeral, theyhoisted sail, and steered in a westerly direction.