CHAPTER X--THE KASBAH

Instead of alighting on the former spot on the top of the hill, Tom this time let the airship down at the foot.

"We haven't darkness to cover us this time," he said, "and we don't want to be spied from the village."

"What are you going to do with our fat friend?" asked Oliphant.

"Well, I thought of taking him some miles into the wilder parts of the hills and leaving him; but I don't want to use any more of our fuel than I can help. Besides, I don't want to have the fellow murdered, though his Moor friend might have done for poor Timothy. What do you say to giving him a lodging in one of the caves?"

"But how in the world could we get him up there?"

"Abdul says it can be done. I forgot to tell you that on our way to Ain Afroo that night I told Abdul of our discovery, and he said he knew the caves well, and had often climbed into them. The tradition of the country is that they were actually cut in the rocks ages ago as a refuge when the people were pressed by their enemies."

"Well, it's a capital idea if it can be managed. The Jew would be out of harm's way, at any rate."

"Yes. And if we succeed in releasing Ingleton, we can come back for him, perhaps, and take him into Rabat or Casa Blanca, and make him disgorge some of Abdul's property, which I've no doubt he has appropriated."

"But won't he starve? We can't spare him any food."

"A day's fasting won't hurt him. We're on uncommonly short rations ourselves, and there's no reason why he should fare better than we."

"But can we get him up? He's a big fellow,"

"We'll do our best with Abdul's help. One of the caves is more easy to get at than the others, Abdul says."

"By Jove, we've forgotten that fellow who got away!"

"Hang it, so we have. It can't be helped. We clearly can't catch him now without showing ourselves to the people of Ain Afroo. Perhaps he didn't make for the village after all. We must dispose of Salathiel, at any rate."

Tom and Oliphant had been talking apart, while Abdul kept watch over the Jew. The former now went up to the man.

"Mr. Salathiel," he said. "I don't exactly know what your game is, but we think it's advisable you should have a little rest after your arduous work with the mule. There's a very comfortable cave some eighty feet above your head. The way to it is rather steep, but with our assistance you can mount there, and remain in perfect safety until we can fetch you and restore you to your friends."

"I protest you treat me badly," said Salathiel, his mien expressing mingled fear and indignation. "I am a peaceable merchant, and was on my way to treat with the sheikh of Ain Afroo for a supply of carpets from Rabat, when----"

"Still, you must be fatigued," said Tom. "We also have business with the sheikh, and I fear that until ours is completed yours must wait. Ours is a prior engagement, Mr. Salathiel. Now if you will please climb the hillside. The first steps are easy; we will help you when you find further ascent difficult."

For some moments the Jew tried entreaty, cajolery, even bribery--in vain. With a very bad grace he began to clamber up the rocks, reaching at length a ledge some twenty-five feet below the cave. The hill was here almost perpendicular, and when Salathiel looked at the wall of rock above him he pleaded again with great volubility to be allowed to go his way. But Abdul was already swarming up with a rope between his teeth. The Englishmen watched him with admiration. Sticking fingers and toes into the slightest crevice, taking advantage of every little irregularity in the surface, he accomplished what had seemed from below an impossible feat. When he reached the cave, he tied one end of the rope to a spur of rock at the entrance, and let down the other to Oliphant, who by its assistance managed to follow. Salathiel for a time absolutely refused to mount; but when Tom pointed out that in the cave he would at least be safe, while no one could answer for what might happen if he wandered about the country alone, he at length allowed the rope to be wound about him, and was hauled up by the two above. He was supplied with a pot of water from the hill stream and a half-dozen biscuits, then Oliphant descended, followed by Abdul with the rope.

"I don't think he'll attempt the descent," said Tom. "It requires more nerve than I fancy he's got."

"It doesn't matter much if he does, does it? He won't try it while we are hereabout. He'll hardly try it in the dark when we are gone; and if he does, and gets safely to the bottom, he'll take so long finding his way to the village that we shall have done our business there--if we're going to do it at all."

"Still, I think we'll make sure. There are one or two bits of rock sticking out that give a slight foothold; Abdul may as well knock them off. He won't want them himself when we come back to release the Jew."

"Suppose we don't come back!"

"You mean, suppose we come to grief ourselves! Well, he'll be able to signal for help from the mouth of the cave to-morrow; some of his cronies are sure to wonder what's become of him and be prowling about. It won't matter to us then, for we shall have either succeeded or failed."

"Suppose we can't come back, and nobody sees his signals!"

"That's his lookout! Didn't we rescue him from the shark, which would have snapped him up when the tide rose another few inches? How has he repaid us? By trying to do for us. And it isn't as if he were a Moor, serving his country. He hasn't an ounce of patriotism in his composition. He's simply on the make. He wanted to get a good haul out of the sheikh for giving us away, and upon my word, considering all things, I think he gets off pretty easily. If he'd treated Moors as he has treated us, he'd be dying a particularly slow death by this time. I don't think we need distress ourselves about Salathiel ben Ezra."

Leaving the Jew to his solitary reflections, the two made their way back to the airship and began to overhaul the machinery. Meanwhile Abdul had gone to the summit of the hill to bring down one or two things which had been left there. He returned with the news that he had seen in the far distance a single horseman slowly climbing the steep hill-path to the village.

"That's our man, depend upon it," said Oliphant. "He'll give us away, Dorrell, as sure as fate."

"What can't be cured must be endured. We could catch him, I dare say; but we haven't any too much fodder for the engine, and we should certainly be seen. He must tell the sheikh all he knows, and, upon my word, I should like to hear his account of us. It would probably be very funny."

"But it will put the sheikh on his guard."

"My dear fellow, you haven't enough faith in the terrors of the unknown, or the misknown. The Moor's story will be such a mass of exaggeration, ignorance, and superstition, that they'll be in a state of jumps, and dread the apparition ten times more even than if it came upon them without preparation."

"Then why go to the trouble of preventing the Jew from getting into the village?"

"Just because he _knows_ the thing, you see, and would stick to the bare truth. His story would lay more stress on the object of our visit; the Moor's will be mainly about the airship. Really, he may help us in the end."

They spent the afternoon in a thorough cleaning of the engines. Once or twice Salathiel showed himself at the mouth of the cave, and Tom fancied he saw him attempt to signal with his hands. But when Oliphant made a movement towards his carbine, the Jew retreated hastily into the interior and appeared no more.

At last all was ready for the voyage. But several hours must yet pass before the ascent could be made. Tom had decided that it would be unwise to arrive at the kasbah until the Moors were either in their first sleep, or, if on their guard, were somewhat tired and nervous with watching. Learning this, Abdul, who had been making observations during the afternoon, left the two Englishmen and was not seen for a time. When he returned, he carried a couple of hares, explaining that he had snared them in the wood that lay half a mile beyond their resting-place. He produced also from the folds of his garment a number of figs and dates which he had plucked from the trees.

"Here's a tuck-in!" cried Tom. "I'm as hungry as a hunter. Oatmeal biscuits are all very well, but they're a trifle too chippy for my taste. I suppose you, as a Scotsman, think 'em quite succulent, Oliphant?"

"Do I, by George? You Englishmen make a good many mistakes about us Scots, and that's one of them. Besides, I'm only Scotch when I want a stoker's place--or when I let off some of my stories on the fellows in Booker's. I was rather had once, though. When I first went to Tabor's as a little chap, on my first day I dropped my cap somewhere, and asked one of the masters if he'd seen it. I'd just come from our village school up north--a whim of the governor's, you know--and I suppose I'd a touch of the brogue, for when I said, 'Please, sir, have you seen my cap?' he said quite pat, 'Are _you_ MacFarlane?' And he called me MacFarlane until I left."

Abdul had chosen a sheltered hollow, and built a rough canopy of branches and leaves. Beneath this he kindled a fire, and cooked one of the hares The table appointments were not exactly those that either of the lads was accustomed to, but, as Oliphant remarked, they were in a primitive country, and it was not unfitting that they should resort to the manners of their ancestors. Both confessed that they had never enjoyed a meal so much as this, and felt all the more ready for the adventures of the night.

The moon was shedding a cold radiance around, in strange contrast with the hot and sultry air, when the airship with its three passengers rose from the foot of the hill and started on its voyage for the kasbah of Ain Afroo. To lessen the chances of premature discovery, Tom ascended to a considerable altitude, with the intention of dropping obliquely upon the kasbah. He was thus able to dispense in great part with the action of the propellers as the airship drew near to its destination, which was very desirable, seeing that they made a loud whirring which must otherwise have attracted attention. But by ascending to a height of nearly 3,000 feet, and then adjusting the planes so that the airship fell at a sharp angle, he could make use of the force of gravity to carry him in the right direction without employing the horizontal screws. Finding, however, when half the distance had been covered, that the airship was coming too near the ground, he set the vertical screws in motion rose a few hundred feet, and again dropped obliquely towards his objective.

The whole country was bathed in the moon's pale light, and lay in perfect silence save for the faint barking of dogs here and there. The three adventurers said never a word; neither Tom nor Oliphant was in a mood for talking now that the real business of the expedition was so near at hand. It was not until the airship was hovering exactly over the flat roof of the kasbah that they knew, from shouts below, that the strange visitant had been observed. But some moments must elapse, presumably, before the alarm could penetrate to the sheikh's apartments; and, aware that everything depended on his coolness and caution, Tom brought the airship to rest with as much deliberation as if he were landing from a practice voyage.

A shot from a musket struck one of the planes.

"The sentry on the terrace has caught sight of us," said Tom, as he was stepping out of the car. "Let us hope that after having done his duty he'll be sufficiently scared to bolt for the town, instead of coming up to warn the sheikh."

The programme had been settled before they started. Oliphant was to remain in charge of the airship, while Tom and the Moor attempted to get into the house and release the prisoner.

"Remain in the car," said Tom, "and have everything ready to ascend at a moment's notice."

"Wish you good luck, old fellow," returned Oliphant. "You've got your revolver?"

"Yes. _Au revoir!_"

He glanced anxiously round for the opening that led from the roof into the house. In the ordinary way it would not be closed; indeed, during the summer months, except when rain threatened, such openings were seldom covered. Unless the fugitive had the gift of second sight, it was improbable that he would ever have imagined that the airship would descend on the very roof of the sheikh's own dwelling. Thus the inmates would have no reason to guard against intrusion from above. Things might have been different in a populous town, where access could be had from one roof to another. But the kasbah stood quite solitary, and the nearest buildings were inaccessible.

The opening, in point of fact, lay within a few feet of the spot upon which the airship had descended.

Carrying an electric torch in one hand and his revolver in the other, Tom stepped gingerly down the staircase, followed by the Moor, who held his knife ready for instant use. They came across a small vestibule, lit at the far end by the moonlight streaming through a narrow aperture in the wall. To the right and left was a door; one led no doubt to the sheikh's harem, the other probably to the apartments of the male members of the family; but Abdul was unable to say which was which. There were no bolts on the outside of these doors, which were fast shut, but each had a very large keyhole.

Inasmuch as the entry to this part of the house was no doubt barred beneath by a door on the staircase, it was quite possible that the inhabitants felt themselves secure enough to dispense with locking these doors. Certainly a Moor will never take any trouble if he can avoid it.

Choosing the right-hand door, Tom gently turned the handle; the door opened to his push, and, inserting his hand, he discovered, as he had ventured to hope, a heavy key in the lock. He silently withdrew it, closed the door, and turned the key on the outside; Abdul at the same time, taking the cue, did the same with the other door on the left. Both locks squeaked somewhat, and Tom thought he heard voices within. Without waiting, however, to assure himself on this point--feeling that he had the inmates secure, at least for a time--he pushed on down the stairway, followed by Abdul, and they came, as they had expected, upon a strong door bolted on their side. Tom gently slid the bolts, opened the door, and found himself in a small vestibule. On the far side of this was another door, which the Moor thought was the inner door of the guest-chamber. This Tom expected would be locked on the outside, but when he flashed his torch at it he saw that the bolts were not shot. He turned the handle of the door, which opened outwards. No doubt, he thought, the Moors considered their prisoner quite safe without the necessity of locking him in from this side. Access to the lower quarters being barred, they would not object to his going up to the roof, perhaps, for fresh air. The other door to the right of the guest-chamber leading on to the terrace was securely locked, as Abdul proved by pushing it gently so as to avoid noise.

Tom tiptoed through the door, and cautiously lowering his torch in order to avoid flashing it on any window openings on the far side, swept it round the room. He gave a start of keen disappointment when he found that the place was untenanted. It bore traces of recent occupation, but the occupant, whoever he was, had been removed. There were a couple of bright oriental rugs on the floor, a dish such as the Moors are accustomed to serve sweetmeats on, and one or two other native articles; but on one of the rugs lay a well-browned brier pipe, which was clearly of European origin, and indeed Tom was conscious of the familiar odour of tobacco--a very different smell from that made by the kief or hashish smoked by the Moors. And, strangest contrast of all, a somewhat tattered newspaper, and a bulky volume in a red paper cover, showed that the sheikh's prisoner had certainly inhabited this room, and had found some means of lightening his captivity.

Tom took in these details in a moment. Anxious to further his errand, he did not pause to look at the contents of the room minutely, but hurried across to a door on the farther side, leading, he suspected, to the terrace. This was bolted, but from the inside.

He halted in perplexity. What had become of the prisoner?

"Have they taken him to the upper apartments?" he asked Abdul in a whisper.

"No, master," replied the lad. "No Moor would think of it."

"Do you think he has been released? But no: that is unlikely. Salathiel would certainly not have come so far in that case, would he?"

"No. The mouse does not put his head in the jaws of the lion."

"And the smell of tobacco is quite fresh. I believe the prisoner has only lately been removed. Where would they take him if they feared an attempt at rescue?"

With a significant look Abdul pointed downwards.

"The dungeons, eh? Where are they?"

"Under the ground, master."

"Well, we must get down there if we can. Do you know the way?"

The Moor hesitated. He knew too well the fate of unhappy people who had offended the sheikh, and upon whom the sheikh exercised the power of life and death. Once, in Tangier, he had accompanied a friend to such a dungeon, where his friend's father was confined for denying that he possessed hidden treasure. The man's eyes had been put out, one of his hands had been cut off, and he had languished for years in this loathsome place, where he would have starved but for the food brought him daily by his son, and handed to him through a grating. Abdul had no wish to see the inside of the kasbah's dungeon.

But his hesitation was only momentary. Tom was clearly determined to pursue his object, and the Moor reflected that, whatever he did, he was in parlous danger. Besides, did not everything happen by the will of Allah? If it was decreed that he should die, he would die; if he was doomed to a living death in prison, nothing that he could do would avert his fate. So, with a Moor's habitual fatalism, he told his employer all he knew.

There was doubtless one entrance to the dungeon from the patio beneath, where the jailer occupied a room near the great gateway. But there must also be an entrance from within the house. Below the vestibule in which they then stood was probably another vestibule, dividing the rooms of the servants' apartments. Whether there was any communication between the two vestibules he did not know; perhaps it was from the terrace outside. In all probability the inner entrance to the dungeon was from the vestibule below.

This gave Tom pause. So far he had been unmolested; indeed, it was only a couple of minutes since he had left the roof. But the thought of having to pass the servants' apartments was decidedly unpleasant. The sentry's shot must have been heard; he wondered why the servants had not already come up to warn or to take orders from the sheikh. Luckily the sheikh himself and all his family were securely locked in their apartments. The menials might at any rate be expected to prove less formidable.

There was no time to be lost. It suddenly occurred to Tom that the floor of the vestibule might have a kind of trapdoor. He pulled aside one of the rugs that covered the stones; there was indeed a trapdoor, not secured in any way. Down he went on hands and knees. Releasing the button of the electric torch so that the room was in darkness, he lifted the door half an inch, and guessed from the absence of light that the vestibule below was unoccupied. He cautiously raised the covering still farther and listened. There was no sound. He set his foot on a ladder beneath, and, moving so slowly and gently as to make not so much as a rustle, he went down step by step, pausing once or twice to strain his ears. Still there was no sound. When he reached the floor he ventured to flash a light around him. He saw he was in a stone-flagged chamber of equal size with the vestibule above. In the middle of the floor was a circular stone slab with an iron ring on it, and a thick iron bolt was shut into a socket. There was one door to the room, and, hurrying to it, Tom found that it was fastened on the outside.

So far all was well. He softly summoned Abdul to descend. Then, drawing back the bolt and lifting the slab, he discovered a large opening leading to a spiral stone stairway.

Again he hesitated. What lay below? The disappointment of finding the guest-chamber empty, the prolongation of the search, were beginning to tell upon him. But, crushing down his nervous excitement, he extinguished his torch again, and groped his way round and round until he came once more to level ground. All was still as death. A flash of the torch showed him that he was in a large vaulted corridor, paved with brick. Somewhere in this, he doubted not, was the door into the dungeons.

In order to secure his line of retreat in case of emergency, he felt it was absolutely necessary first to secure the other entrance, wherever it might be, that was ordinarily used by the jailer. He soon discovered it by the aid of his torch. Here, as he feared, the bolts were on the outside, and the door was securely fastened. Was it possible to barricade the door from the inside? The whole place was empty with the exception of a number of manacles and like effects, and a long hammer, which Abdul said, in a whisper, was used by the Moorish jailers in fastening the chains round their victims' ankles. But there was nothing that promised to be of service as a barricade.

At any moment the jailer, if he had not taken panic from the discharge of the sentry's musket, might enter to assure himself of the security of his prisoners. Could anything be done to delay him? For Tom felt that it was not only a question of the jailer, but of others who would no doubt hasten to his assistance.

Flashing his torch round, Tom noticed that the flooring had been worn and chipped away, no doubt in the process of manacling, and scattered about there was a large quantity of loose particles of brick. An idea struck him. He collected a big handful of these fragments and pushed them into the keyhole. Then, leaving Abdul to complete the work, which would, he hoped, cause the lock to stick, he hastened down the vaulted passage.