"No, I vill not have it," he said. "You kill him; zen am I accomplice; and vat is zat for a kind of business, I say?"

But he did not decline to a.s.sist Abdul to truss up the Jew and render him incapable of further mischief. No more than Abdul himself did he wish to attract visitors.

The mischief, however, was already done. The Moors, a search party despatched by the sheikh, had observed the Jew's signals, and at once spurred their horses across the country until they reached the foot of the precipitous ascent. They dismounted: one of them began to climb up.

For a time Abdul watched his progress; then, when he thought the man had mounted far enough, he threatened to hurl him from the face of the cliff if he advanced another step upwards. It was so obviously in Abdul's power to make good his threat that the Moor hesitated; then, in response to an encouraging shout from below, he again began to climb. He may have reflected that his comrades could afford to shout; they were not clinging like a fly to the face of an almost perpendicular wall of rock; but he may have reflected also that great would be his praise and reward if he succeeded in bringing to account the insolent strangers who had done such despite to his sheikh. No doubt also he reckoned on support from the member of the party who had signalled.

Up he came, slowly feeling his way. Abdul bent over the brink, and, just as the man ascended within reach, smartly rapped his knuckles with the b.u.t.t of Tom's revolver. At the same moment a shot from below struck the rock within an inch of his head. Abdul at once darted back within the shelter of the cave; but the climber, taught by the sharp blow he had received, ventured no farther, and shortly afterwards began to descend.

When he reached the party below, it was clear that he met with a reprimand from the leader for his want of courage; but he sullenly refused to make another attempt, and seemed by his gesticulations to invite each of his comrades in turn to take his place. But n.o.body came forward, and after an excited discussion-portions of which were in tones so loud that Abdul was able to interpret to Schwab, nervously eager to learn what was to be done-a messenger was sent off in the direction of Ain Afroo, while the five or six who remained settled down to keep watch at the foot of the precipice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ABDUL BENT OVER THE BRINK AND SMARTLY RAPPED HIS KNUCKLES WITH THE b.u.t.t OF TOM'S REVOLVER."]

Rather more than an hour pa.s.sed. Schwab became more and more anxious. At last a much larger party rode down at a gallop, among them the sheikh himself. Raising his voice when he came below the cave, he called on the occupants to surrender, threatening them with the most fearful tortures if they persisted in defying him. It was evident from the terms he used that he was under the impression that his escaped prisoners and their rescuers were all in the cave together, and thus that he had them fairly trapped. Abdul made the most of this mistake. He warned the sheikh against braving the power of the white man. He had already had one example of it; the Firangi had shown him more mercy than he deserved; the second example would entail dire consequences on himself and his village. But this reply only fanned the flames of the sheikh's wrath; he was not to be intimidated by words: and, hurling more threats, he began to consult with his followers as to some means of enforcing his summons.

It was clearly a hazardous if not indeed an impossible task to approach the cave from below. One man in the cave, so long as he kept himself out of range of rifle fire, could hold any number at bay. How much more, then, would it be disastrous to make the attempt against, as the sheikh supposed, five or six well-armed men? But, as Abdul well knew, it was just possible to gain the plateau above the cave, from which access to it could be obtained, by climbers acting in concert on the eastern face of the hill. That this longer but easier ascent would be known to the enemy there was no doubt, for Abdul had just recognized, among the hors.e.m.e.n who had accompanied the sheikh, a young man who had been his companion in former days, and with whom as a boy he had actually performed the feat.

Anxiously he watched the colloquy below. Behind, Schwab was imploring him to explain what the sheikh had said. It turned out as he had feared.

His former companion with a few others left the sheikh and disappeared; the rest made themselves comfortable within a few yards of the foot of the hill. Abdul had little doubt that he would soon have to reckon with an attack from above; not an easy matter, in truth, but far more likely to succeed than any attempt from below.

There was a long interval. Under stress of fear and hunger, Schwab was nearly demented. He walked about the cave, with his hands pressed hard upon the neighbourhood of the lowest b.u.t.ton of his waistcoat, uttering guttural groans, making lugubrious appeals to the Homeland, and to a lady whom he called at one time Mrs. Bottle, at another "mein briddy Chain," and ever and anon anathematizing Thomas Dorrell, "vat do nozink for me-for me, vat do so much for him viz Photographic Sensitizer Preparation Number Six." Abdul paid no heed to the German's fumings and frettings, nor to the entreaties of Salathiel ben Ezra, who, stretched on his back, tied hand and foot, added to his prayers the most lavish promises if the Moor would only release him and help him to return to his own place.

At last, Abdul, squatting silent and watchful just within the opening of the cave, saw a pair of legs dangling in front of him. Some of the enemy had, as he had foreseen, made their way to the top of the hill, and were about to attempt to reach the cave from above. It was a foolhardy proceeding, for they could only come singly, and the occupants of the cave could easily dispose of them. Indeed, Abdul surmised that the sheikh was trying an experiment, sending one of his men to draw the badger. However that may have been, the application of the point of Abdul's knife to the calf of one of the dangling legs caused the owner of them to draw them hastily up and to swarm up the rope to which he was clinging, as a spider runs up his filmy thread when threatened by an enemy.

Apparently the sheikh was satisfied that a direct a.s.sault, whether from above or below, was hopeless, for thenceforth the cave party were left in peace. But it was peace only externally. Even Abdul himself, who had hitherto preserved extraordinary composure, now showed signs of perturbation. What was the enemy doing? He dared not attempt to see, for he knew that if he showed his head it would be the target for a dozen bullets. Did the sheikh intend to starve them out? Their food was all gone; the tin of water was almost empty; it was impossible to get a fresh supply of either. Voices were heard from below; once Abdul heard an answering call from above; it appeared indeed as if the sheikh had resolved on an investment, knowing that sooner or later the occupants of the cave must yield or die.

The day pa.s.sed. Schwab fell into a sleep of exhaustion. Abdul remained sleepless, wondering why the Englishman had not reappeared with the airship, as he had said he would do. Had some mishap befallen him?

Surely he had not wilfully deserted them! This Abdul refused to believe.

When morning broke he ventured to go to the mouth of the cave and look out. The Moors were still below; apparently they had camped all night on the ground. They caught sight of Abdul, and mockingly invited him to share their cous-cousoo. He made no reply, and again withdrew into the shadow.

Schwab was by this time a wreck. He lay silent. From the back of the cave came piteous moans from Salathiel, begging to be relieved of his bonds. But Abdul was obdurate; he had enough to do to keep watch on the enemy in front, without having to reckon with the Jew besides, for he knew that Salathiel would stick at no treachery.

Impa.s.sive as Abdul appeared, he was in reality on the verge of despair.

The time was fast approaching when he must choose between starvation and surrender. The choice did not trouble him; he would never surrender to the sheikh of Ain Afroo. What troubled him was the thought that his old enemy would once more triumph; that the vengeance on which he had set his whole mind for years was to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from him.

He was bitterly thinking on these things when Schwab rose feebly to his feet.

"I can no more," he said; "I go to yield myself. I muss have somezink to eat. Still am I Jarman sobjeck; zey vill respeck our Kaiser who is in Berlin."

Abdul expostulated, striving in his imperfect English to warn the German of the risk he ran. He knew the sheikh; he was a terrible enemy; he would care nothing who or what his prisoner was. Who in Europe would be any the wiser if in this remote mountainous region a man were slowly done to death in the dungeons of a kasbah? But Schwab would not listen; he craved for food; "Let us eat, for to-morrow we die," exactly expresses his state of mind. He moved towards the entrance to the cave, shaking off, with a sudden access of rage, Abdul's detaining hand. The Moor followed him, and stood behind him when Schwab, at the brink of the precipice, waved his hand and shouted-

"I give myself opp. But you muss come and fetch me."

But before the echo of his voice had died away, Abdul suddenly pulled him back by main force into the cave.

"See! see!" he cried.

"Tausend Teufel! Vat shall I see?" returned Schwab.

At the point where Abdul now stood the country immediately beneath the cave was invisible, and both the men were screened from the Moors. But the sky was open, and far away in the clear blue to the north-west Abdul had descried a speck which moment by moment was growing larger.

"Vat shall I see?" repeated Schwab, vainly looking in the direction of Abdul's stretched forefinger.

"The flying ship!" cried Abdul. "It comes!"

"You say zat! Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!"

He roofed his eyes with his hands, and peered into the distance.

"Ach! zey veep!" he said, rubbing away the tears that had gathered. "It is for vant of food, nozink else."

He looked again.

"Boy, you are right!" he exclaimed, "truly it is ze airship. Zey come for me! Ach! you dirty Moors, now you may go choke! I vizdraw vat I said about give myself opp. I vas not myself; I vas-I vas-anozer man. Ach, boy, so am I indeed hungry!"

The two watched the airship drawing nearer. For a moment Abdul wondered whether it would come into any danger from the rifles of the Moors either below or on the hilltop above. But remembering how clearly everything on the ground could be seen from the car of the airship, he was rea.s.sured, guessing that Tom would descry the besiegers in plenty of time to avoid their shots.

To gain the hilltop the airship had approached at a considerable alt.i.tude, but was now dropping. About half a mile from the cave it suddenly made an upward sweep, and Abdul knew that the enemy had been seen. Before it sailed out of sight over the hill, Abdul plucked off his djellab, and waved it in the mouth of the cave. The signal provoked two or three shots from those of the Moors below whose attention was not engrossed by the machine, which some of them had seen before and of which all had heard most marvellous accounts. Abdul was unhurt, and his signal was answered by a shot from the car of the airship, which then pa.s.sed out of sight.

"Famos! Zey know ve are still alive! Mein Gott! truly mein hunger is colossal."

Tom had in point of fact discovered the enemy at the moment when Abdul noticed the change in the direction of the airship. The discovery was by no means a welcome one.

"I didn't reckon on their hiding-place being found out," he said to Oliphant. "It makes things rather awkward."

"They must be in a pretty bad state in the cave if the Moors have been here long."

"And we can't get at them; we daren't go too near, for at close quarters the Moors would riddle the planes with their shot and very likely smash the engines. And we certainly can't let the airship down and go for them. The worst of it is, they know pretty well by this time what the airship really is, and we couldn't throw them into a panic as we did before."

"Confound this German!" said Oliphant. "I shouldn't mind if we could have a really good scrimmage and some fun for our money, but there's nothing in it."

"There's Abdul, you see," replied Tom. "We'll have to think it out.

They're in the cave, safe enough, and can evidently hold on there. Let us make for that hill yonder, and think the matter out."

As the airship crossed the hill of the cave, Tom steering for the loftier hill some five miles to the east, a dozen Moors sprang to their saddles and set off in pursuit. But the ground was very rough; they had to follow a tortuous route; and when, a few minutes later, the airship reached the hill, Tom calculated that he had probably half-an-hour to spare before the hors.e.m.e.n would arrive.

"We'd better ground, and economize fuel," he said. "'Pon my word, Oliphant, it seems as if this is going to be as tough a job as it was at the kasbah."

Choosing a fairly open s.p.a.ce almost at the top of the hill, Tom brought the machine to earth. Then, while Oliphant watched for signs of the pursuing hors.e.m.e.n, Tom stretched himself on his back, with his hands under his head and his cap tilted over his eyes, and settled down to a good hard think.

"Don't go to sleep," said Oliphant.

Tom replied with a grunt.

CHAPTER XV-VIEW HALLOO!

Oliphant sat with his knees up, looking at his friend, thinking what a cool hand he was. No one could have guessed from Tom's easy att.i.tude that he was thinking out a problem on which lives depended. As the minutes pa.s.sed, even Oliphant was deceived.