Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)
THE DIVA'S RUBY
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO ATLANTA . SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED LONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO
Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=.
"Apparently looking down at his loosely hanging hands."--Page 92.]
THE DIVA'S RUBY
A SEQUEL TO "PRIMADONNA" AND "FAIR MARGARET"
BY F. MARION CRAWFORD AUTHOR OF "SARACINESCA," "ARETHUSA," ETC., ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. MONTGOMERY FLAGG
New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1908
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY F. MARION CRAWFORD.
Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 1908.
Norwood Press J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Apparently looking down at his loosely hanging hands" _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
"'Funny idea of honour,' observed the American" 62
"'You want my blessing, do you, Miss Barrack?'" 116
"Margaret gazed at him in surprise while she might havecounted ten" 154
"She was aware of his slight change of position withoutturning her eyes" 170
"She grasped Lady Maud's arm" 198
"She watched him intently while he read the printed report" 226
"The two dined on deck" 284
"'What has happened?' she cried. 'Are you ill, dear?'" 294
"She buried her handsome face in the splendid flowers" 340
"Their eyes met" 348
"The man was not Boris Leven" 422
THE DIVA'S RUBY
CHAPTER I
There is a ruby mine hidden in the heart of the mountains near aremote little city of Central Asia, unknown to European travellers;and the secret of the treasure belongs to the two chief families ofthe place, and has been carefully guarded for many generations, handeddown through the men from father to son; and often the children ofthese two families have married, yet none of the women ever learnedthe way to the mine from their fathers, or their brothers, or theirhusbands, none excepting one only, and her name was Baraka, which mayperhaps mean 'Blessed'; but no blessing came to her when she was born.She was much whiter and much more beautiful than the other girls ofthe little Tartar city; her face was oval like an ostrich egg, herskin was as the cream that rises on sheep's milk at evening, and hereyes were like the Pools of Peace in the Valley of Dark Moons; herwaist also was a slender pillar of ivory, and round her ankle shecould make her thumb meet her second finger; as for her feet, theywere small and quick and silent as young mice. But she was notblessed.
When she was in her seventeenth year a traveller came to the littlecity, who was not like her own people; he was goodly to see, and hereyes were troubled by the sight of him, as the Pools of Peace aredarkened when the clouds lie on the mountain-tops and sleep all day;for the stranger was tall and very fair, and his beard was like spungold, and he feared neither man nor evil spirit, going about alone byday and night. Furthermore, he was a great physician, and possessed asmall book, about the size of a man's hand, in which was contained allthe knowledge of the world. By means of this book, and three smallbuttons that tasted of mingled salt and sugar, he cured Baraka'sfather of a mighty pain in the midriff which had tormented him a wholeweek. He brought with him also a written letter from a holy man to thechiefs of the town; therefore they did not kill him, though he had agood Mauser revolver with ammunition, worth much money, and otherthings useful to believers.
Satan entered the heart of Baraka, and she loved the traveller whodwelt in her father's house, for she was not blessed; and she stoodbefore him in the way when he went out, and when he returned she wassitting at the door watching, and she took care to show hercream-white arm, and her slender ankle, and even her beautiful facewhen neither her father nor her mother was near. But he saw little andcared less, and was as grave as her father and the other greybeards ofthe town.
When she perceived that he was not moved by the sight of her, shewatched him more closely; for she said in her girl's heart that theeyes that are blind to a beautiful woman see one of three things:gold, or power, or heaven; but her sight was fixed only on him. Thenher throat was dry, her heart fluttered in her maiden breast like afrightened bird, and sometimes, when she would have tried to speak,she felt as if her tongue were broken and useless; the fire ranlightly along her delicate body, her eyes saw nothing clearly, and astrange rushing sound filled her ears; and then, all at once, a finedew wet her forehead and cooled it, and she trembled all over and wasas pale as death--like Sappho, when a certain god-like man was near.Yet the stranger saw nothing, and his look was bright and cold as awinter's morning in the mountains.
Almost every day he went out and climbed the foot-hills alone, andwhen the sun was lowering he came back bringing herbs and flowers,which he dried carefully and spread between leaves of grey paper in alarge book; and he wrote spells beside them in an unknown tongue, sothat no one dared to touch the book when he went out, lest the geniishould wake and come out from between the pages, to blind the curiousand strike the gossips dumb, and cast a leprosy on the thief.
At night he lay on the roof of the fore-house beside the gate of thecourt, because it was cool there. Baraka came to him, before midnight,when her mother was in a deep sleep; she knelt at his side while heslept in the starlight, and she laid her head beside his, on the sackthat was his pillow, and for a little while she was happy, being nearhim, though he did not know she was there. But presently sheremembered that her mother might wake and call her, and she spokevery softly, close to his ear, fearing greatly lest he should startfrom his sleep and cry out.
'The ruby mine is not far off,' she said. 'I know the secret place.Rubies! Rubies! Rubies! You shall have as many as you can carry of theblood-red rubies!'
He opened his eyes, and even in the starlight they were bright andcold. She stroked his hand softly and then pressed it a little.
'Come with me and you shall know the great secret,' she whispered.'You shall fill this sack that is under your head, and then you shalltake me with you to Egypt, and we will live in a marble palace andhave many slaves, and be always together. For you will always rememberthat it was Baraka who showed you where the rubies were, and even whenyou are tired of her you will treat her kindly and feed her with figpaste and fat quails, such as I hear they have in the south allwinter, and Frank rice, and coffee that has been picked over, bean bybean, for the great men.'
She said all this in a whisper, stroking his hand; and while shewhispered he smiled in his great golden beard that seemed as silveryin the starlight as her father's.
'That is women's talk,' he answered. 'Who has seen mines of rubies?and if you know where they are, why should you show them to me? Youare betrothed. If you had knowl
edge of hidden treasures you would keepit for your husband. This is some trick to destroy me.'
'May these hands wither to the wrists if a hair of your head be harmedthrough me,' she answered; and as she knelt beside him, the two littlehands held his face towards her very tenderly, and then one of themsmoothed the thick hair back from his forehead.
'You are betrothed,' he repeated, 'and I am your father's guest. ShallI betray him?'
'I care nothing, neither for father, nor mother, nor brothers, norbetrothed,' Baraka answered. 'I will give you the riches of Solomon ifyou will take me, for I will have no other man.'
'There are no rubies,' said the stranger. 'Show them to me and I willbelieve.'
The girl laughed very low.
'Did I not know you for a man of little faith?' she asked. 'I haveshown you my arm from the wrist to the shoulder. Is it not like thetusk of a young elephant? Yet you have not believed. I have shown youmy ankles, and you have seen me span them with my fingers as I sat atthe door, yet you believed not. I have unveiled my face, which it is ashame to do, but you could not believe. I have come to you in thestarlight when you were asleep, and still you have no faith that Ilove you, though I shall be cast out to perish if I am found here. ButI will give you a little handful of rubies, and you will believe, andtake me, when I have shown you where you may get thousands like them.'
She took from her neck a bag of antelope skin, no larger than herclosed hand, and gave it to him with the thin thong by which it hadhung.
'When you have seen them in the sun you will want others,' she said.'I will take you to the place, and when you have filled your sack withthem you will love me enough to take me away. It is not far to theplace. In two hours we can go and come. To-morrow night, about thistime, I will wake you again. It will not be safe to unbar the door, soyou must let me down from this roof by a camel rope, and then followme.'
When Baraka was gone the stranger sat up on his carpet and opened thesmall bag to feel the stones, for he knew that he could hardly seethem in the starlight; but even the touch and the weight told himsomething, and he guessed that the girl had not tried to deceive himchildishly with bits of glass. Though the bag had been in her bosom,and the weather was hot, the stones were as cold as jade; and moreoverhe felt their shape and knew at once that they might really be roughrubies, for he was well versed in the knowledge of precious stones.
When the day began to dawn he went down from the roof to the commonroom of the fore-house, where guests were quartered, yet althoughthere was no other stranger there he would not take the bag from hisneck to examine the stones, lest some one should be watching him froma place of hiding; but afterwards, when he was alone in the foot-hillsand out of sight of the town, searching as usual for new plants andherbs, he crept into a low cave at noon, and sat down just inside theentrance, so that he could see any one coming while still a long wayoff, and there he emptied the contents of the little leathern walletinto his hand, and saw that Baraka had not deceived him; and as helooked closely at the stones in the strong light at the entrance ofthe cave, the red of the rubies was reflected in the blue of hisbright eyes, and made a little purple glare in them that would havefrightened Baraka; and he smiled behind his great yellow beard.
He took from an inner pocket a folded sheet on which a map was tracedin black and green ink, much corrected and extended in pencil; and hestudied the map thoughtfully in the cave while the great heat of theday lasted; but the lines that his eye followed did not lead towardsPersia, Palestine, and Egypt, where Baraka wished to live with him ina marble palace and eat fat quails and fig paste.
She came to him again that night on the roof, bringing with her asmall bundle, tightly rolled and well tied up. He wrapped his blanketround her body, and brought it up under her arms so that the ropeshould not hurt her when her weight came upon it, and so he let herdown over the edge of the roof to the ground, and threw the rope afterher; and he let himself over, holding by his hands, so that when hewas hanging at the full length of his long arms he had only a few feetto drop, for he was very tall and the fore-house was not high, and hewished to take the rope with him.
Baraka's house was at the head of the town, towards the foot-hills;every one was sleeping, and there was no moon. She followed the stonysheep-track that struck into the hills only a few hundred paces fromthe last houses, and the stranger followed her closely. He had hissack on his shoulder, his book of plants and herbs was slung behindhim by a strap, and in his pockets he had all the money he carried forhis travels and his letters to the chiefs, and a weapon; but he hadleft all his other belongings, judging them to be of no value comparedwith a camel-bag full of rubies, and only a hindrance, since he wouldhave to travel far on foot before daylight, by dangerous paths.
The girl trod lightly and walked fast, and as the man followed in herfootsteps he marked the way, turn by turn, and often looked up at thestars overhead as men do who are accustomed to journeying alone indesert places. For some time Baraka led him through little valleys hehad often traversed, and along hillsides familiar to him, and at lastshe entered a narrow ravine which he had once followed to its head,where he had found that it ended abruptly in a high wall of rock, atthe foot of which there was a clear pool that did not overflow. It wasdarker in the gorge, but the rocks were almost white, so that it wasquite possible to see the way by the faint light.
The man and the girl stood before the pool; the still water reflectedthe stars.
'This is the place,' Baraka said. 'Do you see anything?'
'I see water and a wall of rock,' the man answered. 'I have been herealone by day. I know this place. There is nothing here, and there isno way up the wall.'
Baraka laughed softly.
'The secret could not have been kept by my fathers for fourteengenerations if it were so easy to find out,' she said. 'The way is noteasy, but I know it.'
'Lead,' replied the traveller. 'I will follow.'
'No,' returned the girl. 'I will go a little way down the gorge andwatch, while you go in.'
The man did not trust her. How could he tell but that she had broughthim to an ambush where he was to be murdered for the sake of his moneyand his good weapon? The rubies were real, so far as he could tell,but they might be only a bait. He shook his head.
'Listen,' said Baraka. 'At the other side of the pool there is a placewhere the water from this spring flows away under the rock. That isthe passage.'
'I have seen the entrance,' answered the traveller. 'It is so smallthat a dog could not swim through it.'
'It looks so. But it is so deep that one can walk through it easily,with one's head above water. It is not more than fifty steps long.That is how I found it, for one day I wandered here alone in themorning for shade, when the air was like fire; and being alone Ibathed in the clear pool to cool myself, and I found the way andbrought back the stones, which I have hidden ever since. For if myfather and brothers know that I have seen the treasure they willsurely kill me, because the women must never learn the secret. Yousee,' she laughed a little, 'I am the first of us who has known it,since many generations, and I have already betrayed it to you! Theyare quite right to kill us when we find it out!'
'This is an idle tale,' said the traveller. 'Go into the pool beforeme and I will believe and follow you under the rock. I will not go andleave you here.'
'You are not very brave, though you are so handsome! If they come andfind me here, they will kill me first.'
'You say it, but I do not believe it. I think there is a deep hole inthe passage and that I shall slip into it and be drowned, for no mancould swim in such a place. I have but one life, and I do not care tolose it in a water-rat's trap. You must go in and lead the way if youwish me to trust you.'
Baraka hesitated and looked at him.
'How can I do this before you?' she asked.
'I will not go alone,' the man answered, for he suspected foul play.'Do as you will.'
The girl took from her head the large cotton cloth with which sheveiled herself, a
nd folded it and laid it down on the rock by thepool; then she let her outer tunic of thin white woollen fall to theground round her feet and stepped out of it, and folded it also, andlaid it beside her veil, and she stood up tall and straight as a youngEgyptian goddess in the starlight, clothed only in the plain shirtwithout sleeves which the women of her country wear night and day; andthe traveller saw her cream-white arms near him in the soft gloom, andheard her slip off her light shoes.
'I will go before you,' she said; and she stepped into the pool andwalked slowly through the water.
The traveller followed her as he was, for he was unwilling to leavebehind him anything he valued, and what he had was mostly in thepockets of his coat, and could not be much hurt by water. Even hispressed herbs and flowers would dry again, his cartridges were quitewaterproof, his letters were in an impervious case, and his money wasin coin. When he entered the pool he took his revolver from its placeand he held it above the water in front of him as he went on. With hisother hand he carried the sack he had brought, which was one of thosethat are made of Bokhara carpet and are meant to sling on a camel.
Baraka was almost up to her neck in the water when she reached theother side of the pool; a moment later she disappeared under the rock,and the traveller bent his knees to shorten himself, for there wasonly room for his head above the surface, and he held up his revolverbefore his face to keep the weapon dry, and also to feel his way, lesthe should strike against any jutting projection of the stone and hurthimself. He counted the steps he took, and made them as nearly aspossible of equal length. He felt that he was walking on perfectlysmooth sand, into which his heavily shod feet sank a very little.There was plenty of air, for the gentle draught followed him from theentrance and chilled the back of his neck, which had got wet; yet itseemed hard to breathe, and as he made his way forward his imaginationpictured the death he must die if the rock should fall in behind him.He was glad that the faint odour of Baraka's wet hair came to hisnostrils in the thick darkness, and it was very pleasant to hear hervoice when she spoke at last.
'It is not far,' she said quietly. 'I begin to see the starlight onthe water.'
The passage did not widen or grow higher as it went on. If it had beendry, it would have been a commodious cave, open at each end, wide atthe bottom and narrowing to a sharp angle above. But the pool was fedby a spring that never failed nor even ebbed, though it must sometimeshave overflowed down the ravine through which the two had reached thepool.
They came out from under the rock at last, and were in the refreshingouter air. The still water widened almost to a circle, a tiny lake atthe bottom of a sort of crater of white stone that collected andconcentrated the dim light. On two sides there were little crescentbeaches of snow-white sand, that gleamed like silver. The travellerlooked about him and upward to see if there were any way of climbingup; but as far as he could make out in the half-darkness the steeprock was as smooth as if it had been cut with tools, and it slopedaway at a sharp angle like the sides of a funnel.
Baraka went up towards the right, and the bottom shelved, so thatpresently the water was down to her waist, and then she stood stilland pointed to a dark hollow just above the little beach. Her wetgarment clung to her, and with her left hand she began to wring thewater from her hair behind her head.
'The rubies are there,' she said, 'thousands upon thousands of them.Fill the sack quickly, but do not take more than you can carry, forthey are very heavy.'
The traveller waded out upon the beach, and the water from his clothesran down in small rivulets and made little round holes in the whitesand. He put down his revolver in a dry place, and both his hands feltfor the precious stones in the shadowy hollow, loosening smallfragments of a sort of brittle crust in which they seemed to beclustered.
'You cannot choose,' Baraka said, 'for you cannot see, but I have beenhere by daylight and have seen. The largest are on the left side ofthe hollow, near the top.'
By the stars the traveller could see the pieces a little, as hebrought them out, for the white rocks collected the light; he couldsee many dark crystals, but as to what they were he had to trust thegirl.
'Do not take more than you can carry,' she repeated, 'for you must notthrow them away to lighten the burden.'
'You can carry some of them,' answered the traveller.
He broke up the crust of crystals with a small geologist's hammer andtore them out like a madman, and his hands were bleeding, for thoughhe was a philosopher the thirst for wealth had come upon him when hefelt the riches of empires in his grasp, and the time was short; andalthough he knew that he might some day come back with armed men toprotect him, and workmen to help him, he knew also that to do this hemust share the secret with the over-lord of that wild country, andthat his portion might be the loss of his head. So he tore at the rubycrust with all his might, and as he was very strong, he broke outgreat pieces at once.
'We cannot carry more than that, both of us together,' said Baraka,though she judged more by the sound of his work than by what she couldsee.
He lifted the sack with both his hands, and he knew by its weight thatshe was right. Under the water it would be easy enough to carry, butit would be a heavy load for a man to shoulder.
'Come,' Baraka said, 'I will go back first.'
She moved down into the deeper water again, till it was up to herneck; and feeling the way with her hands she went in once more underthe rock. The traveller followed her cautiously, carrying the heavysack under water with one hand and holding up his revolver with theother, to keep it dry.
'I begin to see the starlight on the water,' Baraka said, just asbefore, when they had been going in.
When she had spoken, she heard a heavy splash not far off, and thewater in the subterranean channel rose suddenly and ran past her inshort waves, three of which covered her mouth in quick succession andreached to her eyes, and almost to the top of her head, but sank againinstantly; and they passed her companion in the same way, wetting hisweapon.
'Go back,' Baraka said, when she could speak; 'the rock is falling.'
The traveller turned as quickly as he could, and she came after him,gaining on him because he carried the heavy sack and could not moveas fast as she. He felt his damp hair rising with fear, for hebelieved that, after all, she had brought him into a trap. Theyreached the opening and came out into the pool again.
'You have brought me here to die,' he said. 'Your father and yourbrothers have shut up the entrance with great stones, and they will goup the mountain and let themselves down from above with ropes andshoot me like a wolf in a pit-fall. But you shall die first, becauseyou have betrayed me.'
So he cocked his revolver and set the muzzle against her head, to killher, holding her by her slender throat with his other hand; for theywere in shallow water and he had dropped the sack in the pool.
Baraka did not struggle or cry out.
'I would rather die by your hand than be alive in another man's arms,'she said, quite quietly.
He let her go, merely because she was so very brave; for he did notlove her at all. She knew it, but that made no difference to her,since no other woman was near; if they could get out alive with therubies she was sure that he would love her for the sake of the greatwealth she had brought him. If they were to starve to death at thebottom of the great rock wall in the mountains, she would probably diefirst, because he was so strong; and then nothing would matter. It wasall very simple.
The traveller fished up the sack and waded out upon the tiny beach,and again the water ran down from his clothes in rivulets and maderound holes in the white sand. He looked up rather anxiously, thoughhe could not have seen a head looking down from above if there hadbeen any one there. There was not light enough. He understood alsothat if the men were going to shoot at him from the height they wouldwait till it was daylight. Baraka stood still in the water, whichwas up to her waist, and he paid no attention to her, but sat down tothink what he should do. The night was warm, and his clothes would dryon him by degrees. H
e would have taken them off and spread them out,for he thought no more of Baraka's presence than if she had been aharmless young animal, standing there in the pool, but he could nottell what might happen at any moment, and so long as he was dressedand had all his few belongings about him, he felt ready to meet fate.
Baraka saw that he did not heed her, and was thinking. She came up outof the water very slowly, and she modestly loosened her wet garmentfrom her, so that it hung straight when she stood at the end of thebeach, as far from the traveller as possible. She, also, sat down todry herself: and there was silence for a long time.
After half-an-hour the traveller rose and began to examine the rock,feeling it with his hands wherever there was the least shadow, as highas he could reach, to find if there was any foothold, though he wasalready sure that there was not.
'There is no way out,' Baraka said at last. 'I have been here by day.I have seen.'
'They will let themselves down from above with ropes, till they arenear enough to shoot,' the traveller answered.
'No,' replied Baraka. 'They know that you have a good weapon, and theywill not risk their lives. They will leave us here to starve. That iswhat they will do. It is our portion, and we shall die. It will beeasy, for there is water, and when we are hungry we can drink ourfill.'
The traveller knew the people amongst whom he had wandered, and he didnot marvel at the girl's quiet tone; but it chilled his blood, for heunderstood that she was in earnest; and, moreover, she knew the place,and that there was no way out.
'You said well that I had brought you here to die,' she saidpresently, 'but I did not know it, therefore I must lose my life also.It is my portion. God be praised.'
He was shamed by her courage, for he loved life well, and he held hishead down and said nothing as he thought of what was to come. He knewthat with plenty of good water a man may live for two or three weekswithout food. He looked at the black pool in which he could not evensee the reflections of the stars as he sat, because the opening abovewas not very wide, and he was low down, a good way from the water'sedge. It seemed a good way, but perhaps it was not more than threeyards.
'You will die first,' Baraka said dreamily. 'You are not as we are,you cannot live so long without food.'
The traveller wondered if she were right, but he said nothing.
'If we had got out with the treasure,' continued Baraka, 'you wouldhave loved me for it, because you would have been the greatest man inthe world through me. But now, because we must die, you hate me. Iunderstand. If you do not kill me you will die first; and when you aredead I shall kiss you many times, till I die also. It will be veryeasy. I am not afraid.'
The man sat quite still and looked at the dark streak by the edge ofthe pool where the water had wet it when the falling boulder outsidehad sent in little waves. He could see it distinctly. Again there wassilence for a long time. Now and then Baraka loosened her only garmentabout her as she sat, so that it might dry more quickly; and shequietly wrung out her thick black hair and shook it over her shouldersto dry it too, and stuck her two silver pins into the sand beside her.
Still the traveller sat with bent head, gazing at the edge of thepool. His hands were quite dry now, and he slowly rubbed the clingingmoisture from his revolver. Some men would have been thinking, in sucha plight, that if starving were too hard to bear, a bullet wouldshorten their sufferings in the end; but this man was very full oflife, and the love of life, and while he lived he would hope.
He still watched the same dark streak where the sand was wet; he hadnot realised that he had been so far from it till then, but by lookingat it a long time in the starlight his sight had probably grown tired,so that he no longer saw it distinctly. He raised himself a little onhis hands and pushed himself down till it was quite clearly visibleagain, and he looked at the rock opposite and up to the stars again,to rest his eyes. He was not more than a yard from the water now.
The place was very quiet. From far above a slight draught of airdescended, warm from the rocks that had been heated all day in thesun. But there was no sound except when Baraka moved a little.
Presently she did not move any more, and when the traveller looked hesaw that she was curled up on the sand, as Eastern women lie when theysleep, and her head rested on her hand; for her garment was dry now,and she was drowsy after the walk and the effort she had made.Besides, since there was no escape from death, and as the man did notlove her, she might as well sleep if she could. He knew those peopleand understood; and he did not care, or perhaps he also was glad. Hewas a man who could only have one thought at a time. When he had leftthe house of Baraka's father he had been thinking only of the rubies,but now that he was in danger of his life he could think only ofsaving it, if there were any way. A woman could never be anything buta toy to him, and he could not play with toys while death was lookingover his shoulder. He was either too big for that, or too little;every man will decide which it was according to his own measure. ButBaraka, who had not been taught to think of her soul nor to feardeath, went quietly to sleep now that she was quite sure that thetraveller would not love her.
He had been certain of the distance between his feet and the water'sedge as he sat; it had been a yard at the most. But now it was more;he was sure that it was a yard and a half at the least. He rubbed hiseyes and looked hard at the dark belt of wet sand, and it was twice aswide as it had been. The water was still running out somewhere, but itwas no longer running in, and in an hour or two the pool would be dry.The traveller was something of an engineer, and understood sooner thanan ordinary man could have done, that his enemies had intentionallystopped up the narrow entrance through which he had to come, both tomake his escape impossible, and to hasten his end by depriving him ofwater. The fallen boulder alone could not have kept out the overflowof the spring effectually. They must have shovelled down masses ofearth, with the plants that grew in it abundantly and filled it withtwining threadlike roots, and they must have skilfully forcedquantities of the stuff into the openings all round the big stone,making a regular dam against the spring, which would soon run down inthe opposite direction. They knew, of course, that Baraka had led himto the place and had gone in with him, for she had left all her outergarments outside, and they meant that she should die also, with hersecret. In a week, or a fortnight, or a month, they would come and digaway the dam and pry the boulder aside, and would get in and find thewhite bones of the two on the sand, after the vultures had picked themclean; and they would take the traveller's good revolver, and hismoney.
He thought of all these things as he sat there in the dim light, andwatched the slow receding of the water-line, and listened to thegirl's soft and regular breathing. There was no death in her dream, asshe slept away the last hours of the night, though there might not bemany more nights for her. He heard her breath, but he did not heedher, for the water was sinking before him, sinking away into the sand,now that it was no longer fed from the opening.
He sat motionless, and his thoughts ran madly from hope to despair andback again to hope. The water was going down, beyond question; if itwas merely draining itself through the sand to some subterraneanchannel, he was lost, but if it was flowing away through any passagelike the one by which he had entered, there was still a chance ofescape,--a very small chance. When death is at the gate the tiniestloophole looks wide enough to crawl through.
The surface of the pool subsided, but there was no loophole; and asthe traveller watched, hope sank in his heart, like the water in thehollow of the sand; but Baraka slept on peacefully, curled up on herside like a little wild animal. When the pool was almost dry thetraveller crept down to the edge and drank his fill, that he might notbegin to thirst sooner than need be; and just then day dawned suddenlyand the warm darkness gave way to a cold light in a few moments.
Immediately, because it was day, Baraka stretched herself on the sandand then sat up; and when she saw what the traveller was doing shealso went and drank as much as she could swallow, for she hadunderstood why he was drinking a
s soon as she saw that the pool wasnearly dry. When she could drink no more she looked up at the rockshigh overhead, and they were already white and red and yellow in thelight of the risen sun; for in that country there is no very long timebetween dark night and broad day.
Baraka sat down again, on the spot where she had slept, but she saidnothing. The man was trying to dig a little hole in the wet sand withhis hands, beyond the water that was still left, for perhaps hethought that if he could make a pit on one side, some water would stayin it; but the sand ran together as soon as he moved it; andpresently, as he bent over, he felt that he was sinking into ithimself, and understood that it was a sort of quicksand that wouldsuck him down. He therefore threw himself flat on his back, stretchingout his arms and legs, and, making movements as if he were swimming,he worked his way from the dangerous place till he was safe on thefirm white beach again. He sat up then, and bent his head till hisforehead pressed on his hands, and he shut his eyes to keep out thelight of day. He had not slept, as Baraka had, but he was not sleepy;perhaps he would not be able to sleep again before the end came.Baraka watched him quietly, for she understood that he despaired oflife, and she wondered what he would do; and, besides, he seemed toher the most beautiful man in the world, and she loved him, and shewas going to die with him.
It comforted her to think that no other woman could get him now. Itwas almost worth while to die for that alone; for she could not haveborne that another woman should have him since he despised her, and ifit had come to pass she would have tried to kill that other. But therewas no danger of such a thing now; and he would die first, and shewould kiss him many times when he was dead, and then she would diealso.
The pool was all gone by this time, leaving a funnel-shaped hollow inthe sand where it had been. If any water still leaked through fromwithout it lost itself under the sand, and the man and the girl wereat the bottom of a great natural well that was quite dry. Barakalooked up, and she saw a vulture sitting in the sun on a pinnacle,three hundred feet above her head. He would sit there till she wasdead, for he knew what was coming; then he would spread his wings alittle and let himself down awkwardly, half-flying andhalf-scrambling. When he had finished, he would sit and look at herbones and doze, till he was able to fly away.
Baraka thought of all this, but her face did not change, and when shehad once seen the vulture she did not look at him again, but kept hereyes fixed, without blinking, on her companion's bent head. To her heseemed the most handsome man that had ever lived. There, beside him,lay his camel bag, and in it there were rubies worth a kingdom; andBaraka was very young and was considered beautiful too, among the wildpeople to whom she belonged. But her father had chosen her name in anevil hour, for she was indeed not blessed, since she was to die soyoung; and the man with the beard of spun gold and the very white skindid not love her, and would not even make pretence of loving, thoughfor what was left of life she would have been almost satisfied withthat.
The hours passed, and the sun rose higher in the sky and struck deeperinto the shady well, till he was almost overhead, and there wasscarcely any shadow left. It became very hot and stifling, because thepassage through which the air had entered with the water was shut up.Then the traveller took off his loose jacket, and opened his flannelshirt at the neck, and turned up his sleeves for coolness, and hecrept backwards into the hollow where the ruby mine was, to shelterhimself from the sun. But Baraka edged away to the very foot of thecliff, where there remained a belt of shade, even at noon; and as shesat there she took the hem of her one garment in her hands and slowlyfanned her little feet. Neither he nor she had spoken for many hours,and she could see that in the recess of the rock he was sitting asbefore, with his forehead against his hands that were clasped on hisknees, in the attitude and bearing of despair.
He began to be athirst now, in the heat. If he had not known thatthere was no water he could easily have done without it through a longday, but the knowledge that there was none, and that he was never todrink again, parched his life and his throat and his tongue till itfelt like a dried fig in his mouth. He did not feel hunger, and indeedhe had a little food in a wallet he carried; but he could not haveeaten without water, and it did not occur to him that Baraka might behungry. Perhaps, even if he had known that she was, he would not havegiven her of what he had; he would have kept it for himself. What wasthe life of a wild hill-girl compared with his? But the vulture waswatching him, as well as Baraka, and would not move from its pinnacletill the end, though days might pass.
The fever began to burn the traveller, the fever of thirst whichsurely ends in raving madness, as he knew, for he had wandered much indeserts, and had seen men go mad for lack of water. His hands felt redhot, the pulses were hammering at his temples, and his tongue becameas hot as baked clay; he would have borne great pain for a time if itcould have brought sleep, for this was much worse than pain, and itmade sleep impossible. He tried to take account of what he felt, forhe was strong, and he was conscious that the heat of the fever, andthe throbbing in his arteries, and the choking dryness in his mouthand throat, were not really his main sensations, but only accessoriesto it or consequences of it. The real suffering was the craving forthe sight, the touch, and the taste of water; to see it alone would bea relief, even if he were not allowed to drink, and to dip his handsinto a stream would be heaven though he were not permitted to taste adrop. He understood, in a strangely clear way, that what suffered nowwas not, in the ordinary sense, his own self, that is, his nerves, butthe physical composition of his body, which was being by degreesdeprived of the one prime ingredient more necessary than all others.He knew that his body was eight-tenths water, or thereabouts, but thatthis proportion was fast decreasing by the process of thirst, and thatwhat tormented him was the unsettling of the hydrostatic balance whichnature requires and maintains where there is any sort of life inanimals, plants, or stones; for stones live and are not eventemporarily dead till they are calcined to the state of quicklime, orhydraulic cement, or plaster of Paris; and they come to life againwith furious violence and boiling heat if they are brought intocontact with water suddenly; or they regain the living state by slowdegrees if they are merely exposed to dampness. The man knew that whathurt him was the battle between forces of nature which was beingfought in his flesh, and it was as much more terrible than the merepain his fleshly nerves actually suffered from it, as real death ismore awful than the most tremendous representation of it that ever wasshown in a play. Yet a stage tragedy may draw real burning tears ofsorrow and sympathy from them that look on.
The traveller was a modern man of science, and understood thesethings, but the knowledge of them did not make it easier to bearthirst or to die of hunger.
Baraka was not thirsty yet, because she had drunk her fill in themorning, and was not used to drink often; it was enough that she couldlook at the man she loved, for the end would come soon enough withoutthinking about it. All day long the traveller crouched in the hollowof the ruby cave, and Baraka watched him from her place; when it grewdark the vulture on the pinnacle of rock thrust its ugly head underits wing. As soon as Baraka could not see any more she curled herselfup on the white sand like a little wild animal and went to sleep,though she was thirsty.
It was dawn when she awoke, and her linen garment was damp with thedew, so that the touch of it refreshed her. The traveller had come outand was lying prone on the sand, his face buried against his arm, assoldiers sleep in a bivouac. She could not tell whether he was asleepor not, but she knew that he could not see her, and she cautiouslysucked the dew from her garment, drawing it up to her mouth andsqueezing it between her lips.
It was little enough refreshment, but it was something, and she wasnot afraid, which made a difference. Just as she had drawn the edge ofher shift down and round her ankles again, the man turned on his sidesuddenly, and then rose to his feet. For an instant he glared at her,and she saw that his blue eyes were bloodshot and burning; then hepicked up the heavy camel bag, and began to make his way round whathad be
en the beach of the pool, towards the passage through which theyhad entered, and which was now a dry cave, wide below, narrow at thetop, and between six or seven feet high. He trod carefully and triedhis way, for he feared the quicksand, but he knew that there was nonein the passage, since he had walked through the water and had felt theway hard under his feet. In a few moments he disappeared under therock.
Baraka knew what he meant to do; he was going to try to dig throughthe dam at the entrance to let the water in, even if he could not getout. But she was sure that this would be impossible, for by this timeher father and brothers had, no doubt, completely filled the springwith earth and stones, and had turned the water in the otherdirection. The traveller must have been almost sure of this too, elsehe would have made the attempt much sooner. It was the despotism ofthirst that was driving him to it now, and he had no tool with whichto dig--it would be hopeless work with his hands.
The girl did not move, for in that narrow place and in the dark shecould not have helped him. She sat and waited. By and by he would comeout, drenched with sweat and yet parching with thirst, and he wouldglare at her horribly again; perhaps he would be mad when he came outand would kill her because she had brought him there.
After some time she heard a very faint sound overhead, and when shelooked up the vulture was gone from his pinnacle. She wondered atthis, and her eyes searched every point and crevice of the rock as faras she could see, for she knew that the evil bird could only have beenfrightened away; and though it fears neither bird nor beast, but onlyman, she could not believe that any human being could find a footholdnear to where it had perched.
But now she started, and held her breath and steadied herself with onehand on the sand beside her as she leaned back to look up. Somethingwhite had flashed in the high sun, far up the precipice, and thesensation the sight left was that of having seen sunshine on a movingwhite garment.
For some seconds, perhaps for a whole minute, she saw nothing more,though she gazed up steadily, then there was another flash and a smallpatch of snowy white was moving slowly on the face of the cliff, atsome distance above the place where the vulture had been. She bent herbrows in the effort to see more by straining her sight, and meanwhilethe patch descended faster than it seemed possible that a man couldclimb down that perilous steep. Yet it was a man, she knew from thefirst, and soon she saw him plainly, in his loose shirt and whiteturban. Baraka thought of a big white moth crawling on a flat wall.She was light of foot and sure of hold herself, and could stepsecurely where few living things could move at all without instantdanger, but she held her breath as she watched the climber's descenttowards her. She saw him plainly now, a brown-legged, brown-armed manin a white shirt and a fur cap, and he had a long gun slung across hisback. Nearer still, and he was down to the jutting pinnacle where thevulture had sat, and she saw his black beard; still nearer by a fewfeet and she knew him, and then her glance darted to the mouth of thecave, at the other end of which the man she loved was toilingdesperately alone in the dark to pierce the dam of earth and stones.It was only a glance, in a second of time, but when she looked up theblack-bearded man had already made another step downwards. Barakameasured the distance. If he spoke loud now she could understand him,and he could hear her answer. He paused and looked down, and he sawher as plainly as she saw him. She knew him well, and she knew why hehad come, with his long gun. He was her father's brother's son, towhom she was betrothed; he was Saaed, and he was risking his life tocome down and kill her and the man whom she had led to the ruby minesfor love's sake.
He would come down till he was within easy range, and then he wouldwait till he had a fair chance at them, when they were standing still,and she knew that he was a dead shot. The traveller's revolver couldnever carry as far as the long gun, Baraka was sure, and Saaed couldcome quite near with safety, since he seemed able to climb down theface of a flat rock where there was not foothold for a cat. He wasstill descending, he was getting very near; if the traveller were notwarned he might come out of the cave unsuspiciously and Saaed wouldshoot him. Saaed would wish to shoot him first, because of hisrevolver, and then he would kill Baraka at his leisure. If he fired ather first the traveller would have a chance at him while he wasreloading his old gun. She understood why he had not killed her yet,if indeed he wanted to, for it was barely possible that he loved herenough to take her alive.
After hesitating for a few moments, not from fear but in doubt, shegathered herself to spring, and made a dash like an antelope along thesand for the mouth of the cave, for she knew that Saaed would not riskwasting his shot on her while she was running. She stopped just underthe shelter of the rock and called inward.
'Saaed is coming down the rock with his gun!' she cried. 'Load yourweapon!'
When she had given this warning she went out again and stood beforethe mouth of the cave with her back to it. Saaed was on the rock, notfifty feet above the ground, at the other side of the natural wall,but looked as if even he could get no farther down. He was standingwith both his heels on a ledge so narrow that more than half thelength of his brown feet stood over it; he was leaning back, flatagainst the sloping cliff, and he had his gun before him, for he wasjust able to use both his hands without falling. He pointed the gun ather and spoke.
'Where is the man?'
'He is dead,' Baraka answered without hesitation.
'Dead? Already?'
'I killed him in his sleep,' she said, 'and I dragged his body intothe cave for fear of the vulture, and buried it in the sand. Be notangry, Saaed, though he was my father's guest. Come down hither and Iwill tell all. Then you shall shoot me or take me home to be yourwife, as you will, for I am quite innocent.'
She meant to entice him within range of the stranger's weapon.
'There is no foothold whereby to get lower,' he answered, but herested the stock of his gun on the narrow ledge behind him.
'Drag out the man's body, that I may see it.'
'I tell you I buried it. I killed him the night before last; I cannotdig him up now.'
'Why did you run to the mouth of the cave when you saw me, if the manis dead?'
'Because at first I was afraid you would shoot me from above,therefore I took shelter.'
'Why did you come out again, if you were in fear?'
'After I had run in I was ashamed, for I felt sure that you would notkill me without hearing the truth. So I came out to speak with you.Get down, and I will show you the man's grave.'
'Have I wings? I cannot come down. It is impossible.'
Baraka felt a puff of hot air pass her, just above her right ankle,and at the same instant she heard a sharp report, not very loud, andmore like the snapping of a strong but very dry stick than theexplosion of firearms. She instinctively sprang to the left, keepingher eyes on Saaed.
For a moment he did not move. But he was already dead as he slowlybent forward from the rock, making a deep obeisance with both armshanging down before him, so that his body shot down perpendicularly tothe sand, where it struck head first, rolled over and lay motionlessin a heap. The traveller's was a Mauser pistol that would have killedas surely at five hundred yards as fifty; and the bullet had gonethrough the Tartar's brain.
Baraka sprang up the sandy slope and ran along the narrow beach to thebody. In an instant she had detached the large brown water-gourd fromthe thong by which it had hung over Saaed's shoulder, and she felt thatit was full. Without a thought for herself she hastened back to themouth of the cave where the traveller was now standing. His face wasdripping with perspiration that ran down into his matted golden beard,his eyes were wild, his hands were bleeding.
'Drink!' cried Baraka joyfully, and she gave him the gourd.
He gripped it as a greedy dog snaps at a bit of meat, and pulling outthe wooden plug he set the gourd to his lips, with an expression ofbeatitude. But he was an old traveller and only drank a little,knowing that his life might depend on making the small supply last. Agourd of water was worth more than many rubies just then.
 
; 'Are you very thirsty yet?' he asked in a harsh voice.
'No,' answered Baraka bravely; 'keep it for yourself.'
His hand closed round the neck of the gourd and he looked up towardsthe rocks above. The vulture had come back and was circling slowlydown.
'You had better bury the body, while I go on working,' said thetraveller, turning back into the cave and taking the gourd with him.
Baraka had marked the place where he had tried to dig for water andhad almost disappeared in the quicksand. She took from the body thewallet, in which were dates and some half-dry bread, and then draggedand pushed, and rolled the dead man from the place where he hadfallen. The vulture sat on the lowest ledge where his claws could finda hold, and though he watched her with horrible red eyes while sherobbed him of his prey, he did not dare go nearer.
The body sank into the moving sand, and Baraka had to roll herselfback to firmer ground in haste to escape being swallowed up with thedead man. The last she saw of him was one brown foot sticking up. Itsank slowly out of sight, and then she went to the hollow where theruby mine was and took up a piece of the broken crust, full ofprecious stones, and threw it at the vulture as hard as she could. Itdid not hit him, but he at once tumbled off the ledge into the air,opened his queer, bedraggled wings and struck upwards.
Then Baraka sat down in the shade and slowly brushed away the dry sandthat had got into the folds of her linen garment, and looked steadilyat the mouth of the cave and tried not to realise that her throat wasparched and her lips almost cracking with thirst, and that thetraveller had a gourd almost full of water with him. For she lovedhim, and was willing to die that he might live a little longer;besides, if he succeeded in digging his way out, there would be plentyto drink, and when he was free she was sure that he would love herbecause she had made him so rich.
The sun rose higher and at last shone down to the bottom of the chasm,and she sat in the narrow strip of shade, where she had passed most ofthe previous day. She was very thirsty and feverish, and felt tired,and wished she could sleep, but could not. Still the traveller toiledin the darkness, and from time to time she heard sounds from far awayas of stones and loose earth falling. He was still working hard, forhe was very strong and he was desperate.
Baraka thought that if he was able to dig through the dam the waterwould run in again, and she watched the sand for hours, but it wasdrier than ever. The shadow broadened again, and crept up the rockquickly as the afternoon passed.
It was a long time since she had heard any sound from the cave; shewent to the entrance and listened, but all was quite still. Perhapsthe traveller had fallen asleep from exhaustion, too tired even todrag himself out into the air when he could work no longer. She satdown in the entrance and waited.
An hour passed. Perhaps he was dead. At the mere inward suggestionBaraka sprang to her feet, and her heart beat frantically, and stoodstill an instant, and then beat again as if it would burst, and shecould hardly breathe. She steadied herself against the rock, and thenwent in to know the truth, feeling her way, and instinctively shadingher eyes as many people do in the dark.
A breath of cool air made her open them, and to her amazement therewas light before her. She thought she must have turned quite roundwhile she was walking, and that she was going back to the entrance, soshe turned again. But in a few seconds there was light before her oncemore, and soon she saw the dry sand, full of her footprints and thetraveller's, and then the hollow where the mine was came in sight.
She retraced her steps a second time, saw the light as before, ranforward on the smooth sand and stumbled upon a heap of earth andstones, just as she saw the sky through an irregular opening on thelevel of her face. Scarcely believing her senses she thrust out herhand towards the hole. It was real, and she was not dreaming; thetraveller had got out and was gone, recking little of what mighthappen to her, since he was free with his treasure.
Baraka crept up the slope of earth as quickly as she could and gotout; if she had hoped to find him waiting for her she wasdisappointed, for he was nowhere to be seen. He had got clear away,with his camel-bag full of rubies. A moment later she was lying on theground, with her face in the little stream, drinking her fill, andforgetful even of the man she loved. In order to deprive them of waterthe men had dug a channel by which it ran down directly from thespring to the ravine on that side; then they had blocked up theentrance with stones and earth, believing that one man's strengthcould never suffice to break through, and they had gone away. They hadprobably buried or burnt Baraka's clothes, for she did not see themanywhere.
She ate some of the dates from the dead man's wallet, and a bit ofthe dry black bread, and felt revived, since her greatest need hadbeen for water, and that was satisfied. But when she had eaten anddrunk, and had washed herself in the stream and twisted up her hair,she sat down upon a rock; and she felt so tired that she would havefallen asleep if the pain in her heart had not kept her awake. Sheclasped her hands together on her knees and bent over them, rockingherself.
When nearly an hour had passed she looked up and saw that the sun wassinking, for the shadows were turning purple in the deep gorge, andthere was a golden light on the peaks above. She listened then,holding her breath; but there was no sound except the tinkling of thetiny stream as it fell over a ledge at some distance below her,following its new way down into the valley.
She rose at last, looked upward, and seemed about to go away when athought occurred to her, which afterwards led to very singularconsequences. Instead of going down the valley or climbing up out ofit, she went back to the entrance of the cave, taking the wallet withher, dragged herself in once more over the loose stones and earth,reached the secret hollow where the pool had been, and made straightfor the little mine of precious stones. The traveller had broken outmany more than he had been able to carry, but she did not try tocollect them all. She was not altogether ignorant of the trade carriedon by the men of her family for generations, and though she had notthe least idea of the real value of the finest of the rubies, she knewvery well that it would be wise to take many small ones which shecould exchange for clothing and necessaries with the first women shemet in the hills, while hiding the rest of the supply she would beable to carry in the wallet.
When she had made her wise selection, she looked once more towards thequicksand, and left the place for ever. Once outside she began toclimb the rocks as fast as she could, for very soon it would be nightand she would have to lie down and wait many hours for the day, sincethere was no moon, and the way was very dangerous, even for a Tartargirl who could almost tread on air.
High up on the mountain, over the dry well where Baraka and thestranger had been imprisoned, the vulture perched alone with emptycraw and drooping wings. But it was of no use for him to wait; theliving, who might have died of hunger and thirst, were gone, and thebody of dead Saaed lay fathoms deep in the quicksand, in the very mawof the mountain.