Part 32 (1/2)

”It's evident. How I don't quite understand. We traveled fast. Still, he did know. In the meanwhile we can only wait.”

They waited, somewhat anxiously, for several days, knowing that Herrero, whose presence promised to complicate affairs, was drawing nearer all the while. There was, however, no other course open to them, for when they attempted to leave the hut a big man armed with a matchet who kept watch outside informed them it was the Headman's pleasure that they should stay there until he was at liberty to talk to them.

At last one morning word was brought them, and Ormsgill looked about him in astonishment when they walked into the wide s.p.a.ce in the midst of the straggling village. All round it stood long rows of dusky men, most of whom were armed, but only a small and apparently select company sat under the thatched roof in the shadow of which the Headman had previously received them.

”There is something very unusual going on. Half these men seem to be strangers, and they have Sniders,” he said. ”I expect Domingo could tell how they got them, but I don't seem to see him.” Then he touched his comrade's shoulder. ”I fancy we can expect something dramatic.

There's a man yonder we have met before.”

Nares felt that the scene was already sufficiently impressive. The strip of empty sand in front of him flung up a dazzling glare. The sky the palm tufts cut against was of a harsh blue that one could scarcely look upon, and the village was flooded with an almost intolerable brilliancy which flashed upon glittering matchets and Snider barrels.

It also smote the ma.s.sed white draperies and flickered with an oily gleam on ebony limbs and the sea of dusky faces turned expectantly towards the group beneath the thatch. Most of the men there sat on the ground, but there were two seated figures, the village Headman, and the Suzerain lord of his country, the old man they had met already, on a slightly higher stool. He, at least, was dressed in dignified fas.h.i.+on in a long robe of spotless cotton, and a few men with tall spears stood in state behind him. His face was impa.s.sively grim, and Nares's heart beat a trifle faster as his eyes rested on him, but at the same time he was sensible of an expectancy so tense that it drove out personal anxiety. He almost felt that he was watching for the opening of the drama from a place of safety.

In the meanwhile he moved towards the thatch with his comrade until they stopped a few yards' distance from the Suzerain, who leaned forward a little and looked at Ormsgill steadily. He was of commanding presence, but there was something in his att.i.tude which suggested that he regarded this stranger as an equal, though he was lord of that country, and the other stood before him, a spare, lonely figure in white duck, with nothing in his hands.

”The Headman has told me your business, and it seems it is very much the same as when I last talked to you,” he said. ”You are, I believe, not a friend of those other white men who have persecuted me?”

Ormsgill turned to Nares. ”You can tell him that we are both proscribed,” he said. ”Make it quite clear. I don't think there's any reason to be anxious about his handing us over to the folks at San Roque.”

Nares explained, and the old man made a little gesture. ”Then,” he said, ”you shall have the six boys, and it is not my will that you offer the Headman anything for them. Domingo stole them--and we have satisfied our claim on him. Still, I do not know yet whether you will be permitted to go away with them. In the meanwhile there is another matter.”

Nares made out the gist of it, and as he hastily explained the old man raised his hand. ”You have business with Domingo, and there are two other white men who have come here to meet him. Let them come forward.”

Somebody pa.s.sed on the order, and there was a murmur of voices and a stirring of the crowd as a little group of men strode out of it. In front walked the Boer Gavin, a tall, lean figure in travel-stained duck with a heavy rifle cradled in his arm, and his manner was unconcerned. Behind him came Herrero, little, and yellow-faced, looking about him furtively, while a line of dusky men half of whom were armed plodded after them, obviously uneasy. The Suzerain sat impa.s.sively still, and looked at them in a curious fas.h.i.+on when they stopped not far from him.

”You have come here to meet Domingo. You are friends of his?” he said.

Herrero hesitated, but his companion laughed when an interpreter repeated the question.

”You can say we came to meet him, in any case,” he replied.

”Was that wise?” asked the old man, and his voice had a jarring ring.

”Still, as you have come you shall see him.”

Then he smiled grimly, and made a sign to some of those behind. Again there was a stirring of the crowd, and Nares felt his nerves thrill with expectancy. He looked at Ormsgill, who was standing very still with empty hands at his side, and afterwards saw Gavin, the Boer, glance sharply round and change his grip on the heavy rifle. In another moment there was a very suggestive half-articulate murmur from the a.s.sembly, and then an impressive stillness as two men came forward bearing between them a heavy fiber package slung as a hammock usually is beneath a pole. They laid it down, and while Ormsgill and Gavin moved forward at the Headman's sign one of them took something out of it. He held it up, and Nares gasped and struggled with a sense of nausea, for it was a drawn and distorted human face that met his shrinking gaze.

”They've killed him!” he said hoa.r.s.ely.

Ormsgill stood rigidly still. ”Yes,” he said, ”it's Domingo.

Considering everything one could hardly blame them.”

Then the stillness was sharply broken. A cry rose from the a.s.sembly as Herrero's boys turned and fled. Their leader shrank back pace by pace from the old man's gaze, and then wheeling round sped after them. As he did so somebody shouted, and a couple of Sniders flashed. Their crash was lost in a clamor, and odd groups of men sprang out into the open s.p.a.ce. Then Nares saw Gavin running hard come up with his comrade and grasp his shoulder. He drove him before him towards one of the larger huts while the Snider bullets struck up little spurts of sand behind them.

Nares set his lips, and held his breath as he watched them. The shadowy entrance of the hut was not far away, but it seemed impossible that they could reach it before one, at least, of them was struck.

Herrero, blind with fear, seemed to flag already, but Gavin drove him on, and Nares could see that his face was set and grim. They went by a cl.u.s.ter of negroes running to intercept them, and the tall man in the white duck seemed to fling his comrade forward into the hut. Then he spun round pitching up the heavy rifle. There was a flash and a detonation, and Ormsgill heard a curious droning sound as if a bee had pa.s.sed above his head. In another second a man who stood close at his Suzerain's side lurched forward with a strangled cry. Then Gavin sprang into the hut, and when the old man made a sign four of his retainers laid hands on Ormsgill and his companion. They were big muscular men, and Nares looked at Ormsgill, who submitted quietly.

”It's horrible,” he said.

Ormsgill made a little gesture. ”They brought it upon themselves. I'm a little sorry for Gavin, but I can't get away.”

It was perfectly evident. Their captors held them fast, pinioning their arms with greasy black hands, and there were two to each of them, while there are very few white men who have the negro's physical strength, at least if they have been any time in that climate. Nares gasped and felt his heart throb furiously, as he waited with his eyes fixed on the hut.