CHAPTER XXXV
FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH
For a moment Stern stared, speechless with amazement, at theold man, as though to determine whether or not he had gone mad. Butthe commotion, the mingled fear and anger of the boat crews convincedhim the danger, though unknown, was very real.
And, flaring into sudden rage at this untimely interruption just inthe very moment of success, he jerked his pistol from its holster, andstood up in the boat.
"I'll have no butting in here!" he cried in a loud, harsh voice. "Whothe devil is Kamrou, I'd like to know? Go on, _on, to shore!_"
"My son--"
"You order these men to grab those ropes again and go ashore or I warnyou there's going to be a whole big heap of trouble!"
Over the waters drifted another hail, and the strange long boat, underthe urge of vigorous arms, now began to move toward Stern's fleet. Atthe same time, mingled cries arose on shore. Stern could see lightsmoving back and forth; some confusion was under way there, thoughwhat, he could not imagine.
"Well," he cried, "are you going to order these men to go forward? Orshall I--with _this?_"
And menacingly he raised the grim and ugly gun.
"Oh my son!" exclaimed the patriarch, his lips twitching, his handsoutstretched--while in the boats a babel of conflicting voicesrose--"O my son, if I have sinned in keeping this from you, now let medie! I hid it from your knowledge, verily, to save my people--to keepyou with us till this thing should be accomplished! My reckoning wasthat Kamrou and his men would stay beyond the Great Vortex, at theirlabor, until after--"
"_Kamrou?_" shouted Stern again. "What the deuce do I care about him?Who _is_ he, anyhow? A Lanskaarn, or--"
The girl seized Allan's hand.
"Oh, listen, listen!" she implored. "I--"
"Did you know about this? And never told me?"
"Allan, he said our work could all be done before they--"
"So you _did_ know, eh?"
"He said I must not tell you. Otherwise--"
"Oh, hang that! See here, Beatrice, what's the matter, anyhow? Thesepeople have all gone crazy, just in a second, the old man and all! Ifyou know anything about it, for God's sake tell me! I can't stand muchmore!
"I've got to get this machine to land before they go entirely nuttyand drop it, and we lose all our work for nothing. What's up? Who'sthis Kamrou they're talking about? For Heaven's sake, tell me!"
"He's their chief. Allan--their chief! He's been gone a long time, heand his men. And--"
"Well, what do we care for _him?_ We're running this village now,aren't we?"
"Listen. The old man says--"
"He's a hard nut, eh? And won't stand for us--is that it?" He turnedto the patriarch. "This Kamrou you're talking about doesn't want us,or our new ideas, or anything? Well, see here. There's no use beatingaround the bush, now. _This thing's going through, this plan of ours!_And if Kamrou or anybody else gets in the way of it--_good-by forhim!_"
"You mean war?"
"_War!_ And I know who'll win, at that! And now, father, you get thesemen here to work again, or there'll be some sudden deaths round here!"
"Hearken, O my son! Already the feast of welcome to Kamrou isbeginning, around the flame. See now, the boat of his messenger isclose at hand, bidding all those in this party to hasten in, forhomage. Kamrou will not endure divided power. Trust me now and I cansave you yet. For the present, yield to him, or seem to, and--"
"_Yield nothing!_" fairly roared the engineer, angrier than he hadever been in his whole life. "This is my affair now! Nobody else buttsin on it at all! To shore with these boats, you hear? or I beginshooting again! And if I do--"
"Allan!" cried the girl.
"Not a word! Only get your gun ready, that's all. We've got to handlethis situation sharp, or it's all off! Come, father," he delivered hisultimatum to the patriarch; "come, order them ashore!"
The old man, anguished and tremulous, spoke a few words. Answersarose, here, there. He called something to the standing figure in thedespatch-boat, which slackened stopped, turned and headed for thedistant beach.
With some confusion the oarsmen of the fleet took up their task again.And now, in a grim silence, more disconcerting even than the previousuproar, the boats made way toward land.
Ten minutes later--minutes during which the two Americans kept theirrevolvers ready for instant action--the aeroplane began to drag on thebottom. Despite the crowd now gathered on the beach, very near at handand ominously silent, Stern would not let the machine lie even here,in shallow water, where it could easily have been recovered at anytime. Like a bulldog with its jaws set on an object, he clung to hisoriginal plan of landing the Pauillac at once.
And, standing up in the boat with his pistol leveled, he commandedthem, through the mediumship of the patriarch, to shorten the ropesand paddle in still closer. When the beach was only a few rods distanthe gave orders that all should land, carrying the ropes with them. Hehimself was one of the first to wade ashore, with Beatrice.
Ignoring the silent, expectant crowd and the tall figure of Kamrou'smessenger--who now stood, arms crossed, amazed, indignant, almost atthe water's edge--he gave quick commands:
"Now, clear these boats away on both sides! Make a free space,here--wider--so, that's right. Now, all you men get hold of theropes--all of you, here, take hold, you! Ready, now? Give way, then!Out she comes! Out with her!"
The patriarch, standing in fear and keen anxiety beside him,transmitted the orders. Truly the old man's plight was hard, torn ashe was between loyalty to the newcomers and terror of the implacableKamrou. But Stern had no time to think of aught but the machine andhis work.
For now already the great ungainly wings of the machine were wallowingup, up, out of the jetty waters; and now the body, now the engineshowed, weed-festooned, smeared with mud and slime, a strange andawesome apparition in that blue and ghastly torch-flare, as thetoiling men hauled it slowly, foot by foot, up the long slope of thebeach.
Dense silence held the waiting throng; silence and awe, in face ofthis incomprehensible, tremendous thing.
Even the messenger spoke not a word. He had lost somewhat of hisassurance, his pride and overbearing haughtiness. Perhaps he hadalready heard some tales of these interlopers' terrible weapons.
Stern saw the man's eyes follow the revolver, as he gestured with it;the high-lights gleaming along the barrel seemed to fascinate the tallbarbarian. But still he drew no step backward. Still in silence, withcrossed arms, he waited, watched and took counsel only with himself.
"Thank God, it's out at last!" exclaimed the engineer, and heaved asigh of genuine, heartfelt relief. "See, Beatrice, there s our oldmachine again--and except for that broken rudder, this wing, here,bent, and the rent where the grapple tore the leather covering of thestarboard plane I can't see that it's taken any damage. Provided theengine's intact, the rest will be easy. Plenty of chance formetalwork, here, and--"
"Going to take it right up to the village, now?" queried she,anxiously glancing at the crowd of white and silent faces, all eagerlystaring--staring like so many wraiths in a strange dream.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"That depends," he answered. He seemed already to have forgottenKamrou and the threatening peril in the village, near the great flame.Even the sound of distant chanting and the thudding of dull drumsstirred him not. Fascinated, he was walking all round the greatmechanical bird, which now lay wounded, weed-covered, sodden anddripping, yet eloquent of infinite possibilities, there on that black,unearthly beach.
All at once he spoke.
"Up to the village with it!" he commanded, waving his pistol-handtoward the causeway and the fortified gates. "I can't risk leaving ithere. Come, father, speak to them! It's got to go into the villageright now!"
Then Kamrou's messenger, grasping the sense if not the words of thecommand, strode forward--a tall, lithe figure of a man, well-knit andhard of face. Under the torchlight the dilated pupils of his pinkisheyes seemed to shine as
phosphorescent as a cat's.
Crying out something unintelligible to Stern, he blocked the way.Stern heard the name "Kamrou! Kamrou!"
"Well, what do you want now?" shouted the engineer, a huge and suddenanger seizing him. Already super-excited by the labors of the day andby the nervous strain of having recovered the sunken biplane, all thistalk of Kamrou, all this persistent opposition just at the mostinauspicious moment worked powerfully upon his irritated nerves.
Cool reason would have dictated diplomacy, parley, and, if possible,truce. But Stern could not believe the Folk, for so long apparentlyloyal to him and dominated by his influence, could work against theirvital interest and his own by deserting him now.
And, all his saner judgment failing him, heeding nothing of thepatriarch's entreaties or of the girl's remonstrance as she caught hisarm and tried to hold him back, he faced this cooly insolentbarbarian.
"You, damn you, what _d'you_ want?" he cried again, his finger itchingon the trigger of the automatic. "Think I'm going to quit for you, orKamrou, or anybody? Quit, _now?_"
"Think a civilized white man, sweating his heart out to save yourpeople here, is going to knuckle under to any savage that happens toblow in and try to boss this job? If so, you've got another guesscoming! Stand back, you, or you'll get cold lead in just one minute!"
Quick words passed from the old man to the messenger and back again.The patriarch cried again to him, and for a moment Stern saw thebarbarian's eyes flicker uneasily toward the revolver. But the calmand cruel face never changed, nor did the savage take one stepbackward.
"All right, then!" shouted Stern, "seeing red" in his overpoweringrage. "You want it--you'll get it--take it, so!"
Up he jerked the automatic, fair at the big barbarian's heart--asplendid target by the torch-light, not ten feet distant; a sure shot.
But before he could pull trigger the strange two-pronged torch wastossed on high by somebody behind the messenger, and through the dulland foggy gloom a wild, fierce, penetrant cry wailed piercingly.
Came a shooting, numbing pain in Stern's right elbow. The arm dropped,helpless. The boulder which, flung with accurate aim, had destroyedhis aim, rolled at his feet. The pistol clattered over the wet,shining stones.
Stern, cursing madly, leaped and snatched for it with the other hand.
Before he could even reach it a swift foot tripped him powerfully.Headlong he fell. And in a second one of the very ropes that had beenused to drag the Pauillac from the depths was lashed about his wrists,his ankles, his struggling, fighting body.
"Beatrice! Shoot! Kill!" he shouted. "Help here! _Help!_ Themachine--they'll wreck it! Everything--lost! _Help!_"
His speech died in a choking mumble, stifled by the wet and sodden gagthey forced into his mouth.
About him the mob seethed. Through his brain a quick anguish thrilled,the thought of Beatrice unaided and alone. Then came a wonder when thedeath-stroke would fall--a frightful, sick despair that on the veryeve of triumph, of salvation for this Folk and for the world as wellas for Beatrice and himself, this unforeseen catastrophe should havebefallen.
He struggled still to catch some glimpse of Beatrice, to cry aloud toher, to shield her; but, alone against five hundred, he was powerless.
Nowhere could he catch even a glimpse of the girl. In that shoving,pushing, shouting horde, nothing could be made out. He knew not evenwhether civil war had blazed or whether all alike had owned the ruleof Kamrou the Terrible.
Like buoys tossing upon the surface of a raging sea, the flaringtorches pitched and danced, rose, fell. And from a multitude ofthroats, from beach and causeway, walls and town, strange shouts rangup into the all-embracing, vague, enshrouding vapor.
Still striving to fight, bound as he was, he felt a great forcedriving him along, on, on, up the beach and toward the village.
Mute, desperate, stark mad, he knew the Folk were half carrying, halfdragging him up the causeway.
As in a dark dream, he vaguely saw the great fortified gate with itshuge, torch-lighted monolithic lintel. Even upon this some of the Folkwere crowded now to watch the strange, incredible spectacle of the manwho had once turned the tide of battle against the Lanskaarn and hadsaved all their lives, now haled like a criminal back into thecommunity he had rescued in its hour of sorest need.
His mind leaped to their first entry into the village--it seemedmonths ago--also as prisoners. In a flash he recalled all that hadhappened since and bitterly he mocked himself for having dared todream that their influence had really altered these strange, barbaroussouls, or uplifted them, or taught them anything at all.
"Now, now just as the rescue of these people was at hand, just as themachine might have carried us and them back into the world, slowly,one by one--_now comes defeat and death!_"
An exceeding great bitterness filled his soul once more at this harsh,cynic turn of fate. But most of all he yearned toward Beatrice. Thathe should die mattered nothing; but the thought of this girl perishingat their hands there in the lost Abyss was dreadful as the pangs ofall the fabled hells.
Again he fought to hold back, to try for some sight, even a fleetingglimpse of Beatrice; but the Folk with harsh cries drove him roughlyforward.
He could not even see the patriarch. All was confusion, glare, smoke,noise, as he was thrust through the fortified gate, out into thethronged plaza.
Everywhere rose cries, shouts, vociferations, among which he coulddistinguish only one a thousand times repeated: "Kamrou! _Kamrou!_"
And through all his rage and bitter bafflement and pain, a suddengreat desire welled up in him to see this chief of the Folk, atlast--to lay eyes on this formidable, this terrible one--to stand faceto face with him in whose hand now lay everything, Kamrou!
Across the dim, fog-covered expanse of the plaza he saw the blue-greenshimmer of the great flame.
Thither, toward that strange, eternal fire and the ghastly circle ofthe headless skeletons the Folk were drifting now. Thither his captorswere dragging him.
And there, he knew, Kamrou awaited Beatrice and him. There doom was tobe dealt out to them. There, and at once!
Thicker the press became. The flame was very near now, its droningroar almost drowning the great and growing babel of cries.
On, on the Folk bore him. All at once he saw again that two-prongedtorch raised before him, going ahead; and a way cleared through thepress.
Along this way he was carried, no longer struggling, but eager now toknow the end, to meet it bravely and with calm philosophy, "as fits aman."
And quite at once he found himself in sight of the many danglingskeletons. Now the quivering jet of the flame grew visible. Now,suddenly, he was thrust forward into a smooth and open space. Silencefell.
Before him he saw Kamrou, Kamrou the Terrible, at last.