Part 30 (1/2)
She breathed a little quickly.
”Yes?” she asked. ”You have brought news--of what?”
The tall man swung himself off the ladder, drew himself upright, and saluted.
”Mademoiselle, I am Sergeant Perinaud, attached to the office of the military police here. I attended M. Aylmer during our ride in pursuit of the man named Landon, who was escaping with certain desert knaves of the Beni M'Geel. We overtook them--”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_Mademoiselle, I am Sergeant Perinaud_”]
She interrupted with an exclamation of delight.
”You have the boy?” she cried. ”You recovered him?”
He shook his head.
”No, Mademoiselle. We were betrayed into an unfortunate ambush. We lost five men out of ten in addition to further losses at an earlier date in the proceedings. Monsieur le Capitaine has been badly hurt.”
He looked at her keenly with a sort of speculative curiosity. And Daoud frowned. For there was no sign of commiseration in her glance. She showed annoyance, almost disgust.
”You had your hands upon these men and they escaped you?” she cried.
”We were within a very little of arresting them, Mademoiselle, but by an Arab trick in which I regret to say they showed more intelligence than we were capable of divining, they defeated us. I am directed by Major d'Hubert to report to you fully on the incident if you desire it.”
She made a vehement gesture.
”If!” she cried. ”If!”
With an accession of woodenness in his demeanor, the sergeant drew himself up yet more stiffly, repeated his salute, and in a few precise words gave the story of the pursuit. But, as he described Aylmer's fall, it was to be noted that his voice and bearing relaxed. A tinge of the dramatic colored his level tones. His eyes--his hands were called upon to emphasize the description of the headlong plunge into the black trap of the silo--indicated the feelings of an onlooker rather than a mere reporter, as he described the sealing of the prison mouth. And as she listened, she gave a little gasp. In the background Daoud flung his colleague a little nod of approval.
”And then?” she asked breathlessly. ”And then?”
”I was unhorsed, Mademoiselle, and somewhat beaten about the head, as is evident. I found shelter in a neighboring patch of mallow, where, after a season, I was joined by my friend here. The Beni M'Geel having departed, we watched their route as a matter of precaution for a mile or two, and then returned. We were unable to deal with the slab upon the cellar mouth.”
This time his voice had been level enough, but he made his pause effective.
She gasped again.
”You left him there?”
He smiled.
”Yes, Mademoiselle, but not without rendering him a.s.sistance. Not being able to remove the stone, we merely dug another entrance. The outer earth was hard and baked, but after pecking off a few inches with our knives we fetched water from the river and easily softened it. We fas.h.i.+oned a couple of wooden shovels. Thus we dug down into the prison in an hour or two. We found the captain delirious.”
”Yes?” she said again, eagerly. ”You brought him away?”
”Mademoiselle forgets that we had no horses. Daoud remained with him. I walked to our nearest outpost--at Ain Djemma--to fetch a.s.sistance.”
His tones were absolutely matter of fact, but some instinct of comprehension made her look at him yet more keenly and thus note the weariness which his voice could hide, but not his drawn features.
”You walked, how far?” she questioned.