Part 65 (1/2)

”No, we came to find Lenora!” Laura answered breathlessly. ”That's her horse. She started to meet you. She must be somewhere--”

”Lenora?” Quest interrupted fiercely. ”What do you mean?”

”When I got back to the camp,” Laura continued rapidly, ”there wasn't a soul there except the Chinaman. He told me that Lenora had ridden off a few minutes before to find you. We came to look for her. We found her handkerchief on the road there, and that's her horse.”

Quest did not wait for another word. He jumped a rough bush of scrub on the right-hand side, galloped over the ground, which was already hot with the coming fire, and followed along down the road by which Lenora had pa.s.sed. When he came to the first bend, he could hear the roar of flames in the trees. A volume of smoke almost blinded him; his horse became wholly unmanageable. He slipped from the saddle and ran on, staggering from right to left like a drunken man. About forty yards along the road, Lenora was lying in the dust. A volume of smoke rushed over her. The tree under which she had collapsed was already afire. A twig fell from it as Quest staggered up, and her skirt began to smoulder. He tore off his coat, wrapped it around her, beat out the fire which was already blazing at her feet, and s.n.a.t.c.hed her into his arms. She opened her eyes for a moment.

”Where are we?” she whispered. ”The fire!”

”That's all right,” Quest shouted. ”We'll be out of it in a moment. Hold tight to my neck.”

He braced himself for a supreme effort and ran along the pathway. His feet were blistered with the heat; there was a great burn on one of his arms.

At last, however, he pa.s.sed out of the danger zone and staggered up to where the Professor, the Inspector and Laura were waiting.

”Say, that was a close shave,” he faltered, as he laid Lenora upon the ground. ”Another five minutes--well, we won't talk about it. Let's lift her on to your horse, Laura, and get back to the camp.”

2.

The Professor laid down his book and gazed with an amiable smile towards Quest and Lenora.

”I fear,” he remarked dolefully, ”that my little treatise on the fauna of the Northern Orinoco scarcely appeals to you, Mr. Quest.”

Quest, whose arm was in a sling but who was otherwise none the worse for his recent adventure, pointed out of the tent.

”Don't you believe it, Professor,” he begged. ”I've been listening to every word. But say, Lenora, just look at Laura and French!”

They all three peered anxiously out of the opening of the tent. Laura and the Inspector were very slowly approaching the cook wagon. Laura was carrying a large bunch of wild flowers, one of which she was in the act of fastening in French's b.u.t.tonhole.

”That fellow French has got grit,” Quest declared. ”He sticks to it all the time. He'll win out with Laura in the end, you mark my words.”

”I hope he will,” Lenora said. ”She's a dear girl, although she has got an idea into her head that she hates men and love-making. I think the Inspector's just the man for her.”

The two had paused outside the cook wagon. Laura held out the flowers to the Chinaman.

”Can't you find me a bowl for these?” she asked.

He looked slowly up at her.

”No bowlee for flowers,” he answered. ”All want for eatee.”

Laura leaned over and shook him by the shoulder.

”Well, I'll eatee off the ground,” she said. ”Give me a bowl, you slant-eyed old idiot.”

”Why don't you obey the lady?” French intervened.

Very slowly the Chinaman rose to his feet, disappeared inside the cook wagon and reappeared with a basin, which he handed to Laura. She thanked him carelessly, and they pa.s.sed on. From where they stood, both Quest and Lenora saw the look which for a moment flashed from the Chinaman's eyes.

Lenora s.h.i.+vered.