CHAPTER XXIV. THE SHEIK DEMURS.

No one on board the dahabeah had entertained even a suspicion of danger. Winston Bey knew well the unreliable character of the natives of certain villages, but even he did not dream that the steamer would be molested or its passengers annoyed; therefore, the surprise was complete.

Mrs. Everingham, awakening with a start, heard the patter of many feet upon the deck and saw a man advancing into the cabin where she and Aneth had been sleeping.

Her first inspiration was to scream; but instead she reached beneath her pillow and drew out a small revolver, with which she fired two shots in rapid succession point blank at the intruder.

Neither bullet took effect, but they startled Kāra as much as her vigorous screams, in which Aneth now joined. He retreated hastily from the cabin, thus allowing Mrs. Everingham to close the door and secure it with a heavy bar provided for that purpose.

The after-cabin having been given up to the women, Winston and Lord Roane occupied a smaller cabin forward. Between the two were the kitchen and the engine-room. As the natives boarded the steamer near the bow, their first act was to drop into the forward cabin{257} and seize the white men before they were fairly awake. Roane offered no resistance whatever, but Winston struggled so energetically that it took three of the men, headed by the gigantic sheik, to secure him. It required but a few moments to bind the prisoners securely hand and foot, and then they were left in their bunks under a guard of natives, who held their bare knives in their hands in readiness to prevent any possible escape.

The four Arabs of Winston’s crew were easily overcome, and by the time that Kāra arrived forward they laid upon the deck carefully pinioned. There had been no bloodshed at all, and the steamer was now entirely in the control of Kāra and his mercenaries.

“All right,” said the sheik, nodding his satisfaction as the Egyptian approached. “It was very easy, my prince. The two white men are below, and the boat is ours.”

Kāra, by the dim light of a lantern, peered into the faces of his prisoners.

“Where is the dragoman?” he asked. “Did you kill him, as I commanded you to do?”

“We had not that pleasure,” returned the sheik, “for he was not on board.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure, my prince.”

“He may be in hiding. Search every part of the steamer thoroughly except the cabin of the women.”

The sheik shrugged his shoulders, but gave the command{258} to his men. They examined every possible hiding-place without finding the dragoman.

Meanwhile Kāra squatted upon the deck, thinking earnestly of what his future action should be, while the silent sheik sat beside him with composed indifference. When the Arabs returned from their unsuccessful quest, the Egyptian said to his ally:

“Let your men watch the prisoners until morning. We can do nothing more at present.”

So they stretched themselves upon the deck and rested until daybreak.

As soon as it was light enough to distinguish objects readily, Kāra arose and ordered Winston and Lord Roane brought upon deck. There they saw the Egyptian for the first time and understood why they had been attacked.

“I suspected that I owed this little diversion to you,” said Winston, glaring angrily upon his enemy. “Perhaps you do not realize, Prince Kāra, that by this lawless act you have ruined yourself and your career.”

“No,” returned Kāra, smiling; “I do not realize that.”

“These things are not tolerated in Egypt to-day,” continued the Bey.

“Not if they are known,” admitted Kāra.

“Do you think, sir, that I will remain silent?” demanded Winston, indignantly.

“Yes.”

“And why?”{259}

“Because I have no intention of permitting you to return to Cairo. Understand me, Winston Bey—I entertain no personal enmity toward you; but you saw fit to interfere with my purposes, and in doing so destroyed yourself. Having been lawless enough to capture your boat, an outrage only justified by my desire to obtain possession of the persons of Aneth Consinor and Lord Roane, I am compelled, in order to protect myself, to silence every person aboard who might cause me future annoyance. Therefore, it is necessary to kill you.”

“You dare not!”

“You misjudge me,” answered Kāra, coolly; “but I shall be glad to furnish you immediate proof of my sincerity.” Turning to Antar, he said: “Comrade, oblige me by placing your knife in the heart of Winston Bey.”

The sheik did not move.

“Well?” cried Kāra, impatiently.

“It is not in the compact,” returned the imperturbable Arab.

“You are wrong,” said the Egyptian, sharply. “It was fully understood you should obey my commands, especially as to killing those of my enemies whom I desired to silence.”

“My brother will remember,” returned the sheik, “that there was also another understanding—a little matter relating to certain jewels and piastres.”

“You shall have them!”{260}

“And you shall be obeyed—when I have them.”

Winston smiled, and Kāra saw it and uttered a curse.

“Will you thwart me now, when it is too late for either of us to retreat with safety?” he asked Antar, angrily.

“By no means. I do not object to the killing, believe me, my brother; but my people are poor, and the money you have promised them will do much to ease their sufferings. Let me but see the gems and the piastres and all your desires shall be gratified.”

Winston looked at the gigantic Arab closely. He seemed to remember the man, but could not place him, for Antar had not only trimmed his gray beard, but had dyed it a deep black. Still, all natives are crafty and covetous, and the words he had overheard gave him an idea.

“Listen, my sheik,” he said in Arabic. “If it is money you wish, I will double Kāra’s offer to you. It is but natural that a man will pay more for life than another will pay for revenge. State your price, and the sum shall be yours.”

Antar turned toward the Egyptian, an expression of satisfaction upon his keen features.

“My brother will answer,” he said.

“This is absurd,” declared Kāra. “Winston Bey but trifles with you. His money is all in Cairo. When you go there to get it, he will throw you into prison, and your people will be destroyed and their houses torn down to satisfy the Government police.”{261}

“The noble sheik is no fool,” observed Winston. “He will keep us in his power, closely guarded, until he has sent to Cairo and obtained the money. Also, I will promise not to betray him, and my word is as good as that of Prince Kāra.”

“But why should he go to Cairo at all?” asked the Egyptian. “If he will but come with me to Fedah he shall have his price. Not all of Winston Bey’s wealth can approach the magnificence of the treasure I will place in Antar’s hands.”

The eyes of the sheik sparkled.

“Good!” he exclaimed.

“You will be faithful to me?” asked Kāra.

“Why not?”

“There is much treasure at my command. Not a mere handful of gems shall be yours, but enough to make your tribe wealthy for all time to come.”

“I believe that my brother speaks truth.”

“Then,” said Kāra, relieved, “I ask you to kill Winston Bey as a proof of your confidence in me. The others may live until we get to Fedah.”

“Tah! What is the use of dividing the ceremony?” returned the sheik, with a gesture of indifference. “I like not this pig-sticking in sections. It means cleaning one’s knife several times instead of once. Be patient, my brother. When we have arrived at Fedah and our friendship is further cemented by your royal generosity, then will I accomplish all the killing in a brief space and have done with it. Is it not so?”{262}

Kāra hesitated, but saw clearly that the wily sheik would not trust him. Moreover, he feared that Winston’s eager offers to outbid him, if persistently repeated, might prove effectual unless he carried out his own promises to the greedy Arab. He had not expected to pay Antar any great price for his services, and in the beginning intended that the “handful” of gems would be a very small one; but Antar had entrapped him cleverly, and he now realized he must expend an exorbitant sum to induce the old sheik to obey his orders.

After all, that did not matter. The entire treasure had been Hatatcha’s before it descended to him, and a portion of it would be well expended in securing her vengeance. He alone knew that the hoard was practically inexhaustible, and he might even bury the big Arab in jewels and golden ornaments and still have left more than he could use in his own lifetime.

So he agreed, with assumed content, to Antar’s proposition, and Abdallah, the engineer, was released from his bonds and instructed to start the dahabeah upon its voyage up the river. It would be thirty hours before they could hope to reach Fedah.

Roane and Winston were permitted to remain upon deck, but were tied to their chairs and carefully guarded. Breakfast was served, and Kāra accompanied the Arab who carried the tray to the cabin of the women. The Egyptian had not disturbed them since the night before, well knowing they had made themselves as secure as he could have done.{263}

He rapped boldly upon the door and said:

“Let me in.”

“Who is it?” asked Mrs. Everingham.

“Prince Kāra.”

“By what right do you annoy us with your presence aboard this boat?” she continued.

“That I will explain when you permit me to see you,” he answered.

For a few moments there was silence.

“Your breakfast is here, and the servant is waiting for you to open the door,” continued Kāra.

Somewhat to his surprise the bar was removed, and Aneth threw the door wide open.

“One moment, please!” cried Mrs. Everingham, and as Kāra was about to enter he saw the lady standing in the middle of the cabin with her revolver pointed toward him.

“I was so startled last night that I missed you,” she said, calmly; “but I am almost certain I can shoot straight this morning.”

Kāra shrank back a little.

“Why do you fear me?” he asked.

“I don’t,” she answered. “It is you who fear, and with reason. But I do not trust you, because you have convinced me that you are a consummate scoundrel. If you have anything to say to me or to Miss Consinor, we are prepared to hear it; otherwise you had better go, for I am extremely nervous and my finger is upon the trigger.”{264}

“I have taken possession of this steamer,” he announced. “All on board are now my prisoners.”

“How dramatic!” she returned, with a laugh. “May I ask what you intend to do with us? Will you scuttle the ship, or raise the black flag and become a modern pirate of the Nile? Come, my buccaneer, confide to us your secret?”

“In due time, madam, you shall know all, and more, perhaps, than will please you,” he answered, furious at her gibes. “One thing, however, is certain. Miss Consinor”—and here he cast an evil glare at the girl, who stood with white face in the background—“shall not escape me again. I intend to take her to Cairo and keep her secure in my villa. As for you, Mrs. Everingham, your life hangs by a thread. If I could depend upon your discretion and silence I might spare you; but you are clever enough to understand that I cannot afford to take chances of future accusations.”

“My man,” replied Mrs. Everingham, “your own miserable life is at this moment not worth a farthing’s purchase. If you dare to molest this girl or me again, or even show your ugly face in this cabin, I swear to shoot you upon the spot. Here, Selim, bring in that tray. Place it on the table; that will do. Now, Prince Kāra, I will give you one minute to disappear.”

That was too long; he was gone in an instant, his face contorted with rage as he cursed the woman who had so successfully defied him.

On deck he met the sheik.{265}

“Tell the engineer to urge the boat forward,” he said; “we must keep moving day and night until we reach Gebel Abu Fedah.”

“Very good,” responded the sheik. “I am even more impatient than you are, my brother. It is only the prisoners, who have been watching us sharpen our knives, that are in no hurry.”