Part 7

Presently from a flask, she took from a corner cabinet the girl let fall a drop of liquid into the bowl; then, bending over, she gazed into it in silence, and both her companions did the same. Now, whether the act of fixing their eyes intently on the bowl, in a measure hypnotized them, so that their brains became enslaved by her suggestions, it is not for the present chronicler to say; but, in a few seconds, pictures seemed to form themselves on the surface of the inky looking liquid in the bowl. At first the images presented appeared blurred and misty; but, gradually, they took definite shapes. In the first picture Buonaparte was seated on a throne and on his head was a golden crown, and Josephine his wife was by his side, she also crowned. Gradually the figures faded and disappeared. Next St. Just saw himself on a prison floor chained to the wall and with the visage of a madman. In the next tableau there were many figures dressed in generals' uniforms, and Buonaparte in their midst. It was night and they were seated round a camp fire; from the expression on the faces of all, very serious matters were engaging their attention; and scattered around were dead and wounded men and horses and broken weapons and accoutrements. This scene also passed away. In that which followed Buonaparte and St. Just were driving in a sleigh, and in front of them was a woman beckoning to them. Her face was unknown to both; upon her head was the crown that Buonaparte's wife had worn in the first picture; and, wherever she pointed was desolation, the desolation that comes to a country over which an invading army has passed; and across the picture was written "France." The next tableau was a battle field. On a mound, surrounded by generals, but slightly in advance of them, and mounted on a white horse, was Buonaparte, but looking older and stouter. A short distance from him, soldiers were massed about a large farmhouse, which they were attacking, and which was being defended by other soldiers within. The scene changed; troops were flying in all directions--the French--the figure of Buonaparte among them. Yet one more scene; a lonely rock-bound islet in a boundless sea. The moon and stars overhead showed that it was night. On a narrow bed in a plainly furnished room lay Buonaparte; and at the door there stood a soldier in a uniform that was not that of France. 'Twas plain his duty was to guard a captive! This vision, like those which had preceded it, vanished, and the liquid mirror in the bowl revealed no further pictures.

St. Just raised his head from the bowl and encountered the troubled gaze of Buonaparte; while, seated hard by on a divan, was the girl. There was silence for a space. It was Halima who broke it.

"Have you seen enough, Sir?" she said, turning to the General. "Or would you see more?"

Buonaparte's answer was to overturn the table; the bowl fell and was smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor. Then a sudden light leapt into those awful eyes, and he broke forth into a torrent of reproach. "Why did you bring me here?" he asked angrily, turning to St. Just. "Am I to be insulted, fooled by such mummeries as these? As for you, girl, did I but know your father, I would send you to him dead." And he hissed out the last words, his face white with passion.

And St. Just, who loved the girl and was rightly counted brave, and would have struck to the earth any other man who had so spoken, was so dominated by the glance of this little man, whom physically he could easily have crushed the life out of; that he sat unmoved and tongue-tied.

Not so the girl; with face aflame and flashing eyes, she sprang to her feet and faced the conqueror; then thus she spoke, "My father the Sheik Ibrahim of the tribe of Auim (faithful) has with him many warriors who would avenge my death by killing you."

Buonaparte made no reply to her, but addressed himself to the young officer. "Captain," he said, "Assemble your troop and attend me to the Citadel. We have dallied here too long." Then, turning to the Lady Halima, "I thank you, madame, for your hospitality and the timely shelter of your house. Adieu. I doubt not we shall meet again." He bowed to her and strode quickly from the room. She made no answer, but merely inclined her head. But to St. Just, who followed Buonaparte, she nodded smilingly, and, just when he was passing through the doorway, the words were wafted to him, "You will come to see me soon, my Captain."

On their way to the Citadel and the moment they were out of hearing, Buonaparte made reference to the Arab girl's remark. "You heard what she said about her father," he said, "and the men under his command. He will be useful to me; he must be gained somehow. I shall send you to him." Then he relapsed into silence, and no further word was uttered till they reached the Citadel.

Here they found all quiet; the incipient insurrection had been quelled before it had attained dangerous dimensions.

The news of the attempt on Buonaparte's life had reached the French, and, when he made his appearance, loud huzzahs were raised, and many of his officers pressed forward to congratulate him on his escape. Among these were Kleber, and Buonaparte's secretary, Bourrienne. Him the General hailed.

"Ah! Bourrienne!" he cried; "the very man I want. Get writing materials, and pen me what I shall dictate."

The letter presently dictated was addressed to the Sheik Ibrahim, Halima's father, urging him to join forces with the French and, while pointing out the hopelessness of opposition, and the certainty of the eventual victory of the invaders, promising him great rewards for his assistance.

The letter was dictated in the hearing of St. Just, for Buonaparte wished him to know its contents. When it was finished, he turned to the young man and handed it to him with the words, "You will take a squadron of men and go to this Ibrahim with this letter, and use your best endeavors to induce him to adopt my views. I have heard of this man; he is a powerful chief. I think you will either fall in with him, or gain news of him in the neighborhood of the third cataract, near Abu Klea. But his daughter can inform you."

"How soon do I start, General?" asked St. Just, in a tone that was none of the liveliest. He had had his fill of desert rides, and looked forward to the coming expedition with anything but pleasure.

"To-morrow at day-break," was the General's reply. "Meanwhile your time is at your own disposal." Then, turning to Kleber, who was standing by, "General, give Captain St. Just a squadron of Arabs you can trust, and an interpreter for service in the desert, in case this sheik should not know French."

"I will see to it, Sir," was Kleber's answer. "The men shall be in readiness at day-break."

Then, with a nod, Buonaparte dismissed St. Just.

Much as he disliked the prospect of the mission that had been confided to him, there was a temporary solace in the excuse it gave him for once more calling on Halima; and not more than two hours after he and General Buonaparte had left her, she was astonished to receive the announcement of his return.

She advanced smilingly to meet him, but with a look of inquiry on her face. "I am delighted to see you again so soon, Captain St. Just, but I am not so vain as to attribute your call to my attractions, or even to your courtesy. Besides, I see trouble in your face. Are you the bearer of bad news?"

Then St. Just told her of his coming journey, and how loath he was to leave Cairo, where she was, and to face the hardships of the desert, of which he had already had so painful an experience.

When she learned his destination, she told him she would write a letter to her father, if he would bear it to him; and, there and then, she sat down and wrote it, inscribing it with her father's name and present resting-place, so far as she believed. Handing it to the young Frenchman, she said, "I have told my father all that you have done for me, and I have prayed him to protect you and put you on your way. Also I have told him of Yusuf's treachery towards a daughter of the house of "Auim." She drew herself up proudly when she mentioned her tribe's name. "He will punish Yusuf either with banishment for ever from the tribe, or with death."

St. Just took the letter from her, but his hand trembled with excitement, and he could scarce find words in which to thank her, for stress of the passion that was surging like a torrent in his breast. He tried to stem it, but it would not be confined, and at last broke forth.

"Oh, Halima!" he cried. "It is not the perils of the desert that alarm me; what cuts me to the heart is that I must leave you; for I love you, I love you; I feel that I cannot live without you. Until I saw you, my heart yearned only for military glory--to rise in my profession; but now--now I would forfeit every prospect, all else that I hold dear, if I might win your love. Tell me, lady, is there no cord in your heart that vibrates in unison with my own? Surely such love as mine cannot be all in vain. Oh, if you could only know its strength, you would pity me with such pity that, close behind it, would follow its half-sister, Love. Speak, Halima, and end my torture."

He stood back to feed his eyes upon her beauty, his breast panting and heaving in his excitement.

And she? Gradually her creamy complexion took on a warmer hue, until her face and neck were colored like the rose; the long, dark lashes veiled her limpid eyes; she raised her hand; then, to the young officer's wonder and consternation, with a little cry of joy, she ran to him and threw herself on her knees before him. "My love! my lord! my master!" she murmured rapturously. Then she seized his hand and covered it with kisses.

But to have a woman kiss his hand was more than he could bear. A feeling of shame came over him; it seemed so utter a reversal of what was fitting. The blood rushed to his face.

"Not there," he cried. "But here, close to my heart, my Halima." He raised her from the ground and folded her in his arms, she hiding her face upon his shoulder.

The hours that followed for the lovers seemed to travel with the speed of light, for they were given up wholly to loving dalliance and endearing phrases, that never seemed to weary the performers; and it was not till night was well advanced, that St. Just tore himself from the arms of the Arab girl, whom he had pledged himself to make his own, on his return, and who on her part had sworn fidelity to him.

*CHAPTER IX.*

The sun had all but vanished below the horizon; in its departure lighting up the almost cloudless heavens with masses and streaks and rays of every hue from blood red to golden yellow--Nature's glorious tints, to be seen in their fullest beauty only in the East. But the beauty of this particular sunset no one witnessed; for taking a trio of palm trees set in a little patch of vegetation, as the point of vision, an observer placed there would have looked in vain, North, South, East and West for the slightest sign of life. In every direction for leagues upon leagues, as far as the eye could travel was the boundless desert. Not a single object broke the dead level of the sand. The solitude was supreme, the silence awful. Presently, when the sun was on the point of sinking out of sight, a little breath of wind from the direction of the waning light sprang up, sending a shiver through the palm plumes aloft, and rustling the herbage at their base; the deadly stillness was at an end.

Then, if the imaginary watcher by the palm trees had looked North, he would have noticed a little cloud upon the level plain; next a blurred mass of something. Gradually he would have seen this something expand and develop, until, finally, it took form in the shape of a troop of horsemen. On they came, a company of from thirty to forty, shaping their course for the little oasis about the palm trees, the eagerly sought mark of a resting place for the tired traveler and his beast, where the former hopes he will obtain both food and water.

Ten minutes later, they had reached their goal. Both men and horses were covered with dust and sweat, and were dropping with fatigue; and it was plain that they had traveled far and fast. Then, at the word of command, each man dismounted and began to water his horse, before attending to his own requirements. The man who gave the order, the reader has met before. He was St. Just; he was on the mission to the sheik with which General Buonaparte had entrusted him, and he expected in a few days to accomplish it.

He vaulted from his saddle; then, having unstrapped his cloak, he patted the neck of the grey stallion lovingly, for the good horse had carried him many a weary mile right gallantly. Then he glanced, with a laugh, at his dusty uniform. It was frayed and torn and soiled; yet he wore it with a glow of pride; for was it not the visible sign of his fellowship with that brave army which had proved itself invincible, and was still adding to the glory and the possessions of his country?

Be sure that he first attended to his gallant charger's wants. Then he went round among his men to see that they had looked properly to theirs. This duty performed, he sat down to eat his lonely supper; for lonely he was, his only companions being his Arab escort, with whom, though they were friendly, he had naught in common.

When he had finished his scanty meal, he seated himself at the foot of one of the palms, set light to his pipe, and gave himself up to thought. It was now six weeks since he had started on this mission. He cursed the luck that had deprived him of the presence of his lady love and, at the same time, of gaining glory in the field of battle under Buonaparte. Was he never to have the same chance as had his brothers in arms of winning renown? He wondered what they were doing at that moment, and what was Halima; was she thinking of him?

Though it was irksome and fatiguing, he had not found desert life altogether uneventful; the various difficulties and dangers he had encountered on his journey had prevented that; for instance, on one occasion, owing to the lowness of the Nile, the boat, in which he and some of his men were crossing, had been stranded for hours upon a shoal, and they had been in imminent danger of being drowned. Another time, they had drifted on the rocks at one of the great cataracts, a boat had been dashed to pieces and ten of his followers drowned. Then they had marched for days, without getting to any place where they could purchase remounts; so that, at last, their horses had become so utterly exhausted that they had had to rest for several days to recruit, before proceeding. Besides this, repeated dashes had been made upon them by marauding Arabs they had fallen in with by the way. Thus his original fifty men had been reduced by one mishap and another to thirty-five; and the sullen indifference of these, and his fears of treachery on their part, sorely tried his temper and filled him with anxiety. Further, he was beginning to feel much solicitude about the outcome of his mission; for he was now nearing his journey's end, and expected to make his destination in a day or two.

Altogether he was in no happy frame of mind on that November night, while he sat silent in that desolate waste, with his eyes fixed on the glowing embers of the fire, listening drowsily to the movements of the tethered animals and the monotonous tramp of the sentry on the sand hill just above him. Presently he shivered and drew his cloak more closely round him. Then, gradually, his head sank and soon, with the remainder of the camp, he slept.

* * * * *

The hours wore on. Meanwhile the solitary watcher paced up and down upon his beat, scanning the Eastern sky intently for the first signs of coming day. In his eagerness, he halted for several minutes, and fixed his eyes upon the quarter in which the sun would rise. In his preoccupation, he failed to notice what the camels stretched below him did, that a body of horsemen about a hundred and fifty strong were approaching from the West. The sand muffled the sound of their horses' hoofs. But one old camel heard it; like the veritable desert warrior he was, he raised his head and snorted loudly. At this, the musing sentinel turned round. Too late he saw their danger; the horde was sweeping down, in a rapidly converging semicircle, upon the sleeping camp. It was his last sight on earth; a shot rang out upon the air, and he fell upon his face, struck dead. The next moment, with a resounding yell, the hostile Arabs dashed upon the sleepers.

The shot that slew the sentry roused St. Just; he sprang to his feet and rushed to his horse. Two or three others did the same and, mounting, galloped off into the darkness, a hailstorm of bullets in their wake. One of these grazed the gray stallion and made him restless, so that he would not stand for St. Just to mount him. While he was still striving to effect his purpose, the enemy came pouring into the camp on every side, ruthlessly slaying St. Just's half-awakened escort. One of the assailants, seeing by the moonlight St. Just's white face, uttered a cry of joy and threw over his head a noose, then drew him backwards suddenly and sent him to the ground, with a crash that momentarily stunned him. When he came to himself, which he quickly did, he found that he was being searched from head to foot; the noose was tightly bound about his chest, confining his arms behind his back, thus rendering him wholly incapable of resistance. Watch, money, knife, sword, pistol--and, worst of all, his despatches were being passed from hand to hand amidst cries and yells from the crowd around him. One thing only escaped their notice, and that was his darling's locket.

Presently a tall man with a coal black beard came up and spoke to him in French. "Are you not he that rode the gray horse at the battle of Embabe?"

"I am," replied St. Just, expecting that, there and then, an end would be put to his existence.

"I was sure of it," muttered his interlocutor; then turned to his followers and said something in Arabic that St. Just failed to catch, but it stirred them greatly, for instantly arose a hoarse murmur of anger and disappointment. The man who seemed to be their leader, quieted them by raising his hand, as would a huntsman to his hounds, saying, at the same time, "I will it." Then returned again to St. Just, who, having regained his composure, thus addressed him.

"Kill me, if you will; but I pray you forward my despatches to him to whom they are addressed. One of them is a letter from a daughter to her father. Have pity upon his gray hairs, if you have none for me."

"That is for the Chief to say," retorted the bearded man. "March!" he wound up.

In obedience to the order, St. Just set out. Oh, the torture that followed when, at the will of his savage captors, he was compelled by the stress of the rope, though he was on foot, to keep up with his mounted escort, and all the while his chest so confined by his bonds that he could not breath freely. When he lagged, he was urged on and dragged forward with the rope. And, meanwhile, he had the mortification of seeing his own gray horse bestridden by the bearded warrior.

At last, after ten hours of this misery, they came in sight of the Nile, on whose bank, under the shadow of overhanging rocks, was pitched what was evidently the temporary encampment of the tribe.

The squadron halted and were immediately surrounded by a crowd of women and children and barking dogs, who indiscriminately greeted the returning warriors. Looking about him from the spot where he lay guarded by four men, who regarded him with no friendly eye, St. Just noted that most of the tents had been struck and that, before his arrival, active preparations had been made for a move; also that the main body were eagerly questioning his captors, who, in reply, vociferated loudly and pointed at him with lively gesticulations. Such was the babel of sounds around him, that he could make nothing of their conversation, and, indeed, was in no condition to try, worn out, as he was, in mind and body. He lay in the shadow of a camel, where he had thrown himself upon his arrival, and, at last, he fell asleep.

When he awoke, it was dusk, and, while he yet struggled between sleeping and waking, his guards came to him and dragged him to his feet; then drove him unceremoniously towards the pile of rocks. Here, in their shadow, squatting in dignified silence around a fire in front of a large tent, were from ten to twenty aged men--apparently the counsellors of the camp. St. Just was placed in the center, near the fire, whose strong light was shed upon his features, immediately facing the opening of the tent, where he could just make out the form of some one seated. At this juncture, a little breeze sprang up, fanning the fire into greater brightness; so that St. Just could now discern the features of those about him. Seated within three feet of him upon a square carpet, was one of the oldest men he had ever seen. His beard was white as snow, and so long that it swept the ground in front of him. It was impossible to guess his age, for, save for his eyes, which sparkled brightly, he looked like a living corpse.

So soon as St. Just was placed before him, the old man spoke: "Let him be unbound, but guarded."

Immediately some one behind him cut the rope, and St. Just knew that he was free. After gazing at him for a moment, the old man called, "Ben Idherim!"

Out of the throng there strode the man who had been leader of the band that had captured St. Just, and, forthwith, he told how he had swooped down upon the camp; accompanying his recital with expressive gestures. St. Just looked on unmoved while, one by one, to lend vraisemblance to the tale, the articles that had been found on him were handed round the circle of impassive listeners. Finally Idherim produced the despatches and was about to hand them also round, when St. Just broke silence.

"Sirs, as I said to him who has just spoken, kill me if you will, but send on my despatches."

The old chief, who, since the sentence recorded of him, had not spoken, and seemed to have sunk into a stupor, merely nodding his head occasionally when some point in his lieutenant's speech gained his approval, now looked up and fixed his eyes upon St. Just, who stood there pale, travel-stained and weary, but fearless and almost defiant. "Why so; what would you?" he inquired.

"Sir, one is my general's letter to a chief to whom I was journeying, when stopped, and the other is from the chief's daughter telling of her safety. Again I say, I ask not for my life. Do with me what you will. All I pray is that both letters may be sent on; the one, that my General may know me to be faithful; the other, that a father may have tidings of his daughter."

The old man's reply was short and sharp. "Give me the letters." They were handed to him, and then, to the surprise of the young Frenchman, he broke the seals and began to read them.

At this moment, a man came out of the darkness and sat down by the chief's side; plainly he was on intimate terms with him. At first, St. Just regarded him idly, out of mere curiosity; then, as though in a dream, the present scene was blotted out, and he saw himself again in Cairo, and in front of him was a house, and from that house came forth a man bearing a woman on his shoulder. Quick as lightning did this scene flash across him, and as quickly did it pass, and he was once more in the present. Forgetting his position as a captive, and with the cry of "Yusuf!" on his lips, he sprang forward and made a rush at the new comer.