Louis Joseph Vance

“ O'Rourke stepped to his side; for a moment the two men stood, eying one another with respect,—men, both of them, of giant build and free carriage, in contrast striking to the others in the saloon: to the weaklings, Mouchon and D'Ervy; to Monsieur le Prince, padded, emaciated: to the weary-eyed Lemercier, posing himself with an assumption of the dignity that should become an emperor,—perhaps really believing in his heart that he wore the majesty of men born to rule. Only Chambret approached either O'Rourke or the Tawarek in size or dignity of address ”

“ A faint moon, late rising, lighted them on their way as they left the borders of the oasis and made in the direction of the Eirene. As they progressed, it rose and gained in power. By the time they had arrived at the agreed place of meeting with Chambret and Mouchon, it was flooding the desert with a clear, cold radiance that served for the purpose at hand as well as would have served the light of day—better, indeed, since now there was no suffocating heat, but rather such tingling cold as rouses a man to activity. ”

“ And out of their depths the woman's soul flamed to greet O'Rourke; the love that she bore him gleamed and glowed therein,—even as he had seen it glow when he had loved her, long years past, undying and undoubting, faithful unto the end, whatever that might be when it should come.
"This," he said, awed, "is a miracle—a miracle, sweetheart—this portrait of ye. Faith, 'tis beyond belief, so real it makes your presence seem, dearest. And d'ye think—or does Chambret think—that I can look into those eyes and believe that ye are marrying this fellow, Duke Victor, of your own choosing? Faith, no! ”

“ The Irishman, haggard and worn with the hardship of continuous traveling, by night and day, from County Galway to Paris posthaste, darted out of the railway terminal as impatiently as if he had just been fresh from a long night's sleep in his bed, with Danny tagging disconsolately in his master's wake, and, since he dared not swear at O'Rourke, melodiously cursing the luggage which had fallen to his care. ”

“ The Irishman sought his cot; he lay down fully dressed, too weary to compose himself properly for his slumbers. What he needed, must have, was rest—no matter how, nor when, nor where. Sleep, oblivion—he desired it as he hoped for salvation.
But it appeared that he could not sleep. The night was old, the moon in her glory; a pale, intense light filtered down through the overhanging date palms, and lit up the interior of the tent, sharply defining its every object with black shadow.
O'Rourke closed his eyes obstinately. ”

“ Chambret quickly swung up the shade of the lamp, nodding in satisfaction as the glare disclosed the lineaments of the Irishman.
"I thought so," he said. "I was not mistaken."
O'Rourke dropped languidly, easily, into the chair, swinging a careless leg over one of its arms.
"Upon me word!" he mused aloud. "What is he driving at now, d'ye think? Is the man mad?"
Chambret's attitude was a puzzle to him. If the man had immediately identified him, why had he not been denounced to the princess at once? Why this delay, this playing to the gallery for melodramatic effect? ”

“ O'Rourke slid unostentatiously into a vacant seat at the extreme end of the table. A man at his elbow looked up with passing curiosity, but immediately averted his gaze;, otherwise the Irishman attracted no attention. For a few minutes he sat idle, watching the play, the players, the croupier presiding over the wheel—a figure that fascinated his; imagination: a man vulture-like with his frigid impassivity, mathematically marvelous in the swiftness, the unerring, accuracy of his mental computations as he paid out the winnings or raked in the losings. ”

“ And the mob grew, whooping joyously with interest; from their cries it seemed that they considered O'Rourke an escaping criminal of note.
The Irishman kept himself ever on the alert for some chance of escape—any subterfuge to throw the pursuit off his track; but none appeared. He realized that he was gaining by sheer fleetness of foot, but not for a moment did he imagine that by swiftness he might distance the mob. For a rabble is always fresh, never tiring; the places of those who drop out, exhausted and breathless, are instantly filled by fresh and willing recruits. ”

“ And when one is tired, the tables are always open in the big, gilded salon—open and dispensing their opiate of feverish excitement that deadens one's sense of degradation and one's heartache.
O'Rourke strolled among the tables, watching the play, but without any great interest; his mind was filled with speculation about the Consul-General and the Countess of Seyn-Altberg; he was recalling the little scene out there on the piazza, and wondering what it all meant.
One thing was very evident to him,—that Senet was desperately and hopelessly in love with the Countess. ”

“ For the Irishman seemed to wield a dozen swords, and as many menacing points enmeshed Georges de Lützelburg, denying him even hope.
O'Rourke's wrist was seemingly of steel, tempered like a fine spring; his sword gave nothing, took all ungratefully, and cried aloud for more and more of the prince's failing strength. The eye of the Irishman was clear and keen—now hard and ruthless of aspect. And his defense was a wall impregnable. ”

“ The hoofs of the camel raised a yellow mist of dust; on its back madame swayed, half-unconscious, cut cruelly by the ropes, in a daze of suffering. The Tawarek drew up his mask until nothing remained but the very narrowest of slits to see through.
Slowly the morning wore on; the pack camel trotted spiritlessly, its master plodding, mute, desperate. The heat grew well-nigh unbearable, beating down fiercely from directly above. The desert shimmered in a saffron sheen of torridity; the sands had become as hot to the touch as clinkers fresh from the pit. ”

“ El Kebr, that oasis which was sometime the site of Troya, the Magnificent-to-be, vanished, was blotted out as by the hand of God.
The sandstorm advanced with incredible rapidity; O'Rourke, suddenly conscious that he was delaying escape, imperiling the lives of his comrades, by thus lingering, withdrew his fascinated gaze and prepared to descend to the waiting catamaran. And at once he became aware that he stood not alone; a man's figure loomed beside his own. ”

“ HE RACES WITH DEATH
The desert is no level plain; it rolls in vast steppes, with long, wavelike undulations, much like a wind-swept sea miraculously petrified.
Ibeni, the Tawarek, unable to compete with the range of Soly's Mauser, at length gave it up; dawn approached too nearly; he had a long journey to make up the Wadi ere he should dare to show himself upon the surface of the desert.
Swearing copiously with childish rage he emptied at Soly the last cartridges of the revolver which O'Rourke had presented him ”

“ Through the open door of the compartment naught was visible save the blank darkness of a winter's night, under a sky shrouded with a pall of lowering clouds. Near at hand a small hand lantern swung a foot or more above the ground, its rays lighting up a patch of sodden earth perhaps a yard in diameter, and silhouetting the boots and gaiters of a man, the upper half of whose body was invisible.
Bending over O'Rourke were two others—the guard and a uniformed stranger, whose hand still lay heavy upon the Irishman's shoulder as he continued to peer intently into his face. ”

“ And when that did not come, he raised his gaze again to the face of the adventurer, puzzled, wondering; and saw O'Rourke standing at ease, regarding him with pity; but without hatred. He recognized that the Irishman was of a fiber finer than his own, that he could spare the life even of an antagonist who had but the moment gone tried to take his own by cowardly assault. And the knowledge was insupportable; it was intolerable to contemplate an existence owed to the mercy of a man to whom one had shown no mercy. ”

“ His words were prompted by the desire to stave off extermination until the last moment; delays would be dangerous—to Prince Viazma.
And, somehow, the man knew that he had touched the woman's heart, until then dormant, in this goddess of Egyptian night; he had beaten her fairly in argument; she had acknowledged the justness of his stand, and had congratulated him on his courage in abiding by it.
He felt, intuitively—and in dealing with woman, man must needs meet her with her own most effective weapon, both of offense and defense, intuition—that he might throw himself upon her generosity. ”

“ Still the man lingered.
"I—I killed Prince Aziz, I fear," he said. "I could not help it. It was his life or mine."
"I fear ... you did ... not," she replied, faltering. "He may live ... I am betrothed to him and—and I do not love him, monsieur!"
O'Rourke hesitated; there seemed to be nothing more to be said, and yet he felt that there was, to the contrary, much that might be said, were he but able to find the words to say it in. At length, diffidently, he put out a hand, caught the woman's, and bent to kiss it. She stood passive; her fingers rested unresisting on his broad palm. ”

“ O'Rourke waited uneasily, afire with impatience, fearful lest she should change her mind. Eventually, she mused aloud—more to herself than to the stranger.
"You are honest, I believe, monsieur," said she softly; "you would not he to me. Who knows? You might prove the very man we need, and—and, oh, monsieur, our need is great!"
"But try me!" he pleaded abjectly.
"Thank you, monsieur—I will," she told him, a smile lightening the gravity of her mood.
And the fiacre came to a halt. ”

“ The Eirene plowed on toward the coast; gradually it loomed before her bows until its outlines were easily to be discerned with the unaided eye—a long, low border of shelving beach that was tossed back from the sea in yellow sand hills, irregular, studded with clumps of stunted grass: hills that stretched away inland to the eastern horizon in a broken perspective of rounded forms, sweltering beneath the sky of brass and its unblinking sun, lonely, desolate and barren—a monstrous bald place upon the poll of the earth. Not a sign of life was there; naught but sand and silence and the sun. ”

“ A rifle's crack rang sharp in the hush; the Tawarek nearest Danny had fired. His long weapon spat a yard of flame that showed crimson and gold against the dusk. Danny plunged forward, falling upon his knees.
From the square rose a cry of horror that changed abruptly to a yelp of rage from the stricken man's comrades. They fingered the triggers of their Mausers nervously, looking to O'Rourke for an order to fire.
He shook his head, then again put the glasses to his eyes.
"Not yet," he cried. "There's a chance that we may get through without bloodshed if we hold our fire!" ”

“ For a full minute the tableau held: the forlorn little company in the valley, motionless with astonishment, transfixed with a chill of fear; the spectators upon the dunes, gazing grimly down—quiet and sinister, bulking against the darkling sky like some portentous army of ghosts.
O'Rourke was the first to recover; he realized that the time was brief for that which must be accomplished. Already the sun was down; there would be a few fleeting moments of twilight, then the sudden, swooping desert night.
"Tawareks!" he shouted. "The masked Tawareks! Men, form a square! ”

“ Faith, 'tis hardly honorable, but 'tis meself that will listen—for Senet's sake," he soothed his conscience.
Again they passed.
"That," said the man, in accents of finality, "or marriage!"
"But—but I cannot marry you, Herr Captain!"
"Captain, eh?" said O'Rourke.
"Europe need never know that your husband lives, countess."
The woman stopped, and the man halted with her. O'Rourke could hear the hurried, desperate sound of her breathing. He fancied that he could see her, pale with rage and dread, as she faced the oppressor.
"I will not! I will not!" cried the woman. ”

“ Again she indicated the inn. O'Rourke looked, swearing in his excitement—but under his breath, that she—an inn-maid!—might not be offended.
He saw Chambret, momentarily as he had been—steady and solid as a rock in the doorway. An instant later, he was gone; and from the taproom came a volley of shouts and curses, tempered to faint echoes by the distance.
Promptly the automobile began to move. And as it did the doorway was filled with struggling men. Chambret appeared to stand up in the machine; his revolver spat fire thrice. ”

“ Prince Georges at least was not afraid of personal hurt; he engaged the Irishman closely, cutting and parrying with splendid skill—a wonderful swordsman, a beau sabreur, master of his weapon and—master of O'Rourke. The Irishman was quick to realize this. He had met more than his match; the man who opposed him was his equal in weight and length of arm, his equal in defense, his superior in attack. He fought at close quarters, giving not an inch, but rather ever pressing in upon him, hammering down upon his guard a veritable tornado of crashing blows. ”

“ He was the second to step ashore, and at that opportunely to catch the arm of the impetuous Lemercier and save him a fall in the sands.
For this Frenchman who would be emperor, in his overwhelming desire to set foot upon the lands he designed for empire, was over-hasty in jumping ashore. He slipped, stumbled, plunged forward with wildly grasping hands.
"An omen!" he whimpered, turning toward O'Rourke, when by his aid he had regained balance. His countenance had lost its proud smile; he seemed a very child to O'Rourke—a child frightened by the darkness or by an old woman's tale. ”

“ In the momentary stupefaction that seized upon the conspirators, numbing them mind and body, for the instant, O'Rourke leaped to the doorway.
He held a revolver in each hand. Possibly to each of the nine about the table it seemed as though one muzzle was trained upon his head alone. They stood helpless for a space. O'Rourke, chancing to observe Arabi's face, could have laughed because of its whitish tinge.
"Ye will please not move, messieurs," he announced loudly. "I have the drop on ye all, and the man who thinks I cannot see him move will find out his mistake. ”

“ As for O'Rourke, he had not waited for the end of the narrative. The man's gestures had told them which direction the Tawarek had taken with his captive; to the east, up the gully called the Wadi Saglat. Without an instant's delay O'Rourke rounded the farther bend in the gully's walls, and there discovered the camel, hobbled, of which the man Soly had spoken—a magnificent animal, a racing dromedary, beyond doubt the flower of the Tawarek's stable. This O'Rourke knew from former experience with camels in the Soudan; and than this he had never seen a finer beast, he told himself. ”

“ His face had become fairly livid—as white, well-nigh, as his collar; and his eyes burned like live coals.
"Von Wever," O'Rourke cried in a tone that brought the wretch's eyes obedient to his gaze, "tell Mr. Senet if this be true."
The German answered without premeditation, for O'Rourke had recounted his narrative with such a wealth of circumstance—and it was all so true—that he was appalled.
"The countess told you!" he snarled.
"Ah! but she did not," remarked O'Rourke. "Then it is true?"
"True?" The sound of his own voice carried a flush of returning courage to the man's heart. "True?" ”