Part 41 (1/2)

”Be quick,” he said. ”Write quickly, lest we be discovered.” And Feversham wrote; but though he wrote as Abdul suggested, the futility of his writing was as clear to him as to Trench.

”There is the letter,” he said, and he handed it to Abdul, and, taking Trench by the arm, walked without another word away.

They pa.s.sed out of the alley and came again to the great mud wall. It was sunset. To their left the river gleamed with changing lights--here it ran the colour of an olive, there rose pink, and here again a brilliant green; above their heads the stars were coming out, in the east it was already dusk; and behind them in the town, drums were beginning to beat with their barbaric monotone. Both men walked with their chins sunk upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, their eyes upon the ground. They had come to the end of hope, they were possessed with a lethargy of despair. Feversham thought not at all of the pine trees on the Surrey hills, nor did Trench have any dread that something in his head would snap and that which made him man be reft from him. They walked slowly, as though their fetters had grown ten times their weight, and without a word. So stricken, indeed, were they that an Arab turned and kept pace beside them, and neither noticed his presence. In a few moments the Arab spoke:--

”The camels are ready in the desert, ten miles to the west.”

But he spoke in so low a voice, and those to whom he spoke were so absorbed in misery, that the words pa.s.sed unheard. He repeated them, and Feversham looked up. Quite slowly their meaning broke in on Feversham's mind; quite slowly he recognised the man who uttered them.

”Abou Fatma!” he said.

”Hoos.h.!.+” returned Abou Fatma, ”the camels are ready.”

”Now?”

”Now.”

Trench leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, and the face of a sick man. It seemed that he would swoon, and Feversham took him by the arm.

”Is it true?” Trench asked faintly; and before Feversham could answer Abou Fatma went on:--

”Walk forwards very slowly. Before you reach the end of the wall it will be dusk. Draw your cloaks over your heads, wrap these rags about your chains, so that they do not rattle. Then turn and come back, go close to the water beyond the storehouses. I will be there with a man to remove your chains. But keep your faces well covered and do not stop. He will think you slaves.”

With that he pa.s.sed some rags to them, holding his hands behind his back, while they stood close to him. Then he turned and hurried back.

Very slowly Feversham and Trench walked forwards in the direction of the prison; the dusk crept across the river, mounted the long slope of sand, enveloped them. They sat down and quickly wrapped the rags about their chains and secured them there. From the west the colours of the sunset had altogether faded, the darkness gathered quickly about them. They turned and walked back along the road they had come. The drums were more numerous now, and above the wall there rose a glare of light. By the time they had reached the water's edge opposite the storehouses it was dark. Abou Fatma was already waiting with his blacksmith. The chains were knocked off without a word spoken.

”Come,” said Abou. ”There will be no moon to-night. How long before they discover you are gone?”

”Who knows? Perhaps already Idris has missed us. Perhaps he will not till morning. There are many prisoners.”

They ran up the slope of sand, between the quarters of the tribes, across the narrow width of the city, through the cemetery. On the far side of the cemetery stood a disused house; a man rose up in the doorway as they approached, and went in.

”Wait here,” said Abou Fatma, and he too went into the house. In a moment both men came back, and each one led a camel and made it kneel.

”Mount,” said Abou Fatma. ”Bring its head round and hold it as you mount.”

”I know the trick,” said Trench.

Feversham climbed up behind him, the two Arabs mounted the second camel.

”Ten miles to the west,” said Abou Fatma, and he struck the camel on the flanks.

Behind them the glare of the lights dwindled, the tapping of the drums diminished.

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE LAST OF THE SOUTHERN CROSS

The wind blew keen and cold from the north. The camels, freshened by it, trotted out at their fastest pace.