CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MODERN LEONIDAS.
Mustapha Cadi, like most Arabs, possesses many of the properties that intimes gone by distinguished our American Indians.
The signs of the desert and mountains are like an open book to him, andhe is quite at home in an undertaking of this sort, a mission requiringenergy and daring, as well as caution.
So, without much apparent trouble, he leads the young Chicagoan along.Sometimes the way is difficult, indeed, impossible in John's eyes, butthe Arab knows the secret, and finds a passage where none appears toexist.
Thus they advance for nearly an hour. John imagines they have gonefarther than is the case. This is on account of the rough ground.
"Now, caution. We draw near the place. They will be on the watch.Monsieur knows what discovery means."
"Yes--death. That is understood, but it does not prevent me fromdesiring to advance. Still we will redouble our caution."
They see lights. These appear to come from openings in the hill,doubtless mouths of the deserted mines, which the robber band of BabAzoun occupy temporarily, with their accustomed boldness.
Drawing still nearer, under Mustapha's clever guidance, they discoverthat the main body of the robbers are encamped in the largest cavern,and as it seems natural that they would bring their prisoners here, thetwo men devote their time toward looking up that quarter.
The Arab courier has played as a boy in these old mines, and knows allabout them. This knowledge may serve him well now, and John is pleasedto think he is in the hands of one so well informed.
In half an hour they have managed to learn an important fact. Theprisoners are in the main cavern. All escape is cut off by the presenceof numerous guards at the mouth of the mine, and they are watchedbesides.
Mustapha, putting his knowledge of the place into good use, has led hiscompanion into a cleft where there is hardly room to crawl; but, as theyreach the end, they have a chance to gaze upon the interior where theArabs and Kabyles, the Moors and negroes, who battle under the freebanner of Bab Azoun, are assembled.
Eagerly John looks upon the face of Lady Ruth. His heart seems in histhroat, and he no longer can deceive himself regarding his true feelingstoward this young lady.
"What can we do?" he whispers to the Arab.
"Nothing but wait," is the reply.
John has a great fear tugging at his heart. On their way they havediscussed the situation, and Mustapha has related the habits of the Arabdesert outlaws. Should it appear that a rescue was imminent, it wastheir habit to murder any prisoners.
Surely this is enough to arouse John's keenest fears. What if the Frenchforces do come and annihilate the robber host--if the prisoners sharetheir doom, what has been gained?
That is why he asks so anxiously if there is nothing to be done.
The Arab by this time realizes why he is so anxious, and hesitates alittle before making reply.
"We must watch and wait. Monsieur will see something soon. Watch thesoldier."
This gives John a new idea, and he speedily discovers that Sir Lionel isnot idle. The soldier has been in too many desperate situations to bedismayed over such a trifling thing as this.
He is not bound, and hence can move about. Now he seems to be talking tothe professor, and anon with Aunt Gwen. Last of all he speaks to LadyRuth, who nods eagerly.
And a strange feeling comes up in John's mind as he surveys this scene.What causes him to remember the harbor of Malta, the words of theboatman before leaving the steamer, the tragic scene in the blue waters?
It comes over him like a flash. Perhaps he did Sir Lionel an injusticewhen he suspected him of criminal plotting in such a case, but thecircumstances were decidedly against the man.
If he could be guilty of such a scheme, what would he not do in order towin favor at the hands of the young English beauty?
Again it flashes through John's mind; did not the driver in speaking ofthe facts tell Mustapha that in his opinion it was a man who had enteredinto a conspiracy with Bab Azoun?
John's first thought was of Pauline Potter--that she had hoped to gethold of him; but now he changes his mind, and locates the troubleelsewhere, fixing it upon the veteran.
Under these circumstances it may be interesting to see how the Britonintends working his plan. John's only desire is a sincere wish that LadyRuth may be rescued from her predicament. He has no wish to put her toany unnecessary trouble in order that he may play the hero. As well SirLionel as any one else, so long as she is benefited.
With this spirit, he can watch the development of affairs composedly,though the suspicion that has crept into his mind causes him a littleworry.
Sir Lionel is evidently getting ready to make a move for liberty. Hisvery actions betray it in more ways than one. John cannot but think thathe goes about it with something like a flourish of trumpets that ishardly in keeping with the situation, for it is supposed that a dozenpairs of eyes are upon them.
First of all, he secures a weapon that is hanging upon the wall near-by.It must be his own revolver, John believes. How lucky that the Arabshung it so close to his hand. No one appears to notice the action.Really, Sir Lionel is attended by the goddess of luck.
Then the professor makes a move in the same direction, crawls forward,and lays hands on a gun that rests against the wall. This he smugglesback with him, and again the guards are all interested in otherbusiness, laughing, and joking.
So far, good. Perhaps they can, if this marvelous good fortune followsthem, steal all the arms in the camp, and even capture the brigade. SoJohn concludes with a smile, as he sees what the professor has done.
Anxiously, he waits to see what there will be next on the programme.Some of the guards have left the place, others lie down to sleep.
"The grand climax is coming," he thinks, as he takes note of thesethings. "Blunt is getting ready to sweep the board. Well, good luck tohim."
Even Mustapha has discovered that something strange is on the _tapis_.
He has a singular way of expressing it.
"Poor Monsieur Constans," he whispers.
"What is the matter with him?" ejaculates John, in about the same tone.
"It is too bad."
"Mustapha, speak out."
"He will come after a while."
"Yes, yes."
"And he will find no Bab Azoun, no band of illustrious robbers to dobattle with."
John's mind instantly hits upon flight as the cause for all this.
"Why do you speak so?"
"This wonderful soldier, he do it all; by the mighty power of his arm hewill overcome the hosts of Bab Azoun. Great is Allah, and Mohammed ishis prophet; but I have never seen such a thing before in all my life."
Then the exquisite, dry humor of the thing strikes John, and with suchforce that he comes very near bursting with laughter.
He has not the slightest desire to do anything that will bring about achange in the plan. So long as Lady Ruth is rescued from her unpleasantposition, it matters little what the means are.
Hence, he watches the development of matters with a keen interest. It isnot long before he is in a position to see that there is solid truth inhis suspicions. The actions of Sir Lionel confirm the fact that he hasbeen induced to compromise his honor in order to succeed with John as arival.
When the divine spark touches the heart, it causes men to do strangethings.
Here is one who in times past has been very jealous of his honor, andwould as soon cut off his hand as compromise himself. Yet, reduced tosore straits by the success of a rival, he now descends the scale, andschemes as cleverly as any rascally adventurer.
The critical period draws near, and our military hero can scarcerestrain his valor. Indeed, he shows symptoms of wanting to rush out andannihilate the whole band of Arabs and Moors, but Lady Ruth restrainshim, as though she is clever enough to see the folly of a move toopremature.
It is a picturesque scene, and one that John will never forget. Thegrotto alone ha
s charming features, since the walls are white andincrusted with some metallic substance that shines like silver.
On either side can be seen giant stalactites dependant from the roof,looking like mighty columns to support the dome.
The fire and the torches illumine the scene, until it looks like one ofenchantment. The strange costumes of the nomads, with the various colorsthey boast, add to the romantic nature of the exposition, and his mustbe a poor soul, indeed, that fails to catch something of artistic fervorwhen such a picture appears in view.
There were twenty of Bab Azoun's men present an hour before, but nowonly half of that number can be seen.
The remainder have mysteriously disappeared. Things seem to be workingto suit the desperate plans of the veteran Zulu fighter, and he willsoon be in a condition to open the engagement.
There will doubtless be a battle. John is lost in admiration of thegenius that could prepare such a scene, such a triumph. He does notanticipate that even if the Briton is successful in his plans, he willcarry the heart of Lady Ruth by storm.
"We must move," whispers Mustapha.
"Why?" asks John, desiring enlightenment.
"So as to be ready to take a hand in the grand affair," is the reply.
Up to this moment it has not occurred to the young man from Chicago thathe may be in a position to profit by this peculiar situation.
He smiles with the idea.
"Mustapha, I leave all in your hands. Do with me as you please."
"Then come."
They quit the cleft, using great caution to prevent discovery. Theplans of the Arabian guide are soon made manifest, for he signifies hisintention of securing a sentry who paces up and down outside the oldmine.
If he were a baby he could not have made less resistance. John wouldhave been amazed only that he has been forewarned. It is not the guard'spolicy to attempt an outcry--undoubtedly he has had his orders.
"Well?" says Mustapha, after the fellow has been tied up, and preventedfrom making an outcry.
"I believe we can capture the whole outfit at that rate. I feel equal totwenty myself. They must have taken some drug; they have no more lifethan a mummy from the pyramids."
The Arab grins as though he enjoys the joke.
"It is coming, prepare to see the mighty Frank's wonderful work."
Even as he speaks, they hear loud shouts within the old mine--shoutsthat would indicate an upheaval--shouts from Arab lips, that echo fromthe Kabyle throats.
They seem to indicate astonishment--fear.
Above them rises the bellow of a Briton, rushing to the fray with theeagerness of an infuriated bull.
Oh, it is grand!--it is beautiful to see that one man hurl himself onhalf a dozen! Fear--he knows not the meaning of the word it seems--hisopponents monopolize that.
John, looking in, is delighted with the spectacle, and laughs to himselfas he sees how remarkably deadly are all Sir Lionel's shots. A man fallsevery time he pulls trigger; if he rushes at a fellow, so great is thefear his awful presence inspires that the wretched Arab sinks down andactually expires through fright.
The doctor has seen some wonderful stage fights, but the equal of this,never. He laughs, yet finds himself almost stupefied with amazement.Truly, the Victoria cross would well become this remarkable hero.
One or two of the dead men do not seem to have had enough, or else aredissatisfied with the manner of their taking off. At any rate, theystagger to their feet, and have to be put to sleep again by energeticmeans.
Philander comes near making a mess of it all by his enthusiasm. It is aregular picnic to the small professor.
In the beginning he aimed his gun at one of the brigands. The weapon isstrange to him, being a long Arabian affair, with a peculiar stock, butPhilander has some knowledge of weapons, shuts his eyes, and pulls thetrigger.
The report staggers him. When he opens his eyes, and sees the big,ragged Kabyle at whom he aimed lying flat on his back, with armsextended, the professor is horrified at first.
Then some of the warlike spirit that distinguished his ancestors atLexington begins to flame up within him.
He gives a shrill war-cry that would doubtless please many a Greekscholar, and plunges headlong for the foe.
The way in which he swings that Arab gun is a sight to behold; in itselfthe apparition of Professor Sharpe thus advancing to the fray is enoughto strike terror to the human heart.
One poor devil is in a position to receive a tremendous whack on theback with the gun, now used as a cudgel, and there is positively nofraud about the manner of his sprawling around.
After that the professor sweeps the air in vain with his weapon. Men whohave met the terrors of the Algerian desert for years, fall down andexpire before he can hasten their exit from this vale of tears.
Really, it is wonderful--he never before knew the tenets of theMohammedan religion made its devotees so accommodating; they seem tocourt dissolution in the longing for paradise, where the prophetpromises eternal happiness for all who die in battle.
It ends; even such obliging fellows as these do not need to be killedmore than a couple of times. Lady Ruth had covered her eyes with herhands when the action began.
She is the daughter of a soldier race, and as brave as the majority ofher sex; still she shudders to gaze upon the taking of human life.
Perhaps, too, she anticipates the death of the valorous Briton, who hashurled himself so impetuously into the breach, for under all ordinaryconditions his chances would seem to be small.
When the dreadful racket is over, when the shouts, shrieks, and reportof fire-arms die away, Lady Ruth uncovers her eyes.
She fully expects to see a slaughter-pen, with the valorous Sir Lioneland Philander among the slain. As to the latter, there are no lack ofthem, for they lie in every direction, and in every position the humanmind can conceive.
And here is the hero warrior rushing up to her, a smoking revolver inone hand. His usual coolness and _sang froid_ are gone--Sir Lionel isactually excited. It is not every day that even a veteran of the Capewars is given a chance to thus immortalize himself after the manner ofSamson.
"My dear Lady Ruth, the way is clear. We must fly before the rest ofthe rascals appear. Perhaps we may be fortunate enough to find horsesoutside, then a hot dash and the city will be gained. Permit me toassist you."
The girl springs up, ready to accept the chance a kind fate has thrownin her way, and with a startled, curious glance at the piles of slainthat incumber the cavern, follows her friends.