the son of tarzan-第44部分

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e　the　little　Arab　Meriem；　daughter　of　The　Sheik？　　It　was　impossible；　and　yet　that　locket？　　Meriem　knew　it。　　She　could　not　refute　the　conviction　of　her　memory。　　She　had　seen　that　locket　before　and　it　had　been　hers。　　What　strange　mystery　lay　buried　in　her　past？

As　she　sat　gazing　at　the　picture　she　suddenly　became　aware　that　she　was　not　alonethat　someone　was　standing　close　behind　her　some　one　who　had　approached　her　noiselessly。　　Guiltily　she　thrust　the　picture　back　into　her　waist。　　A　hand　fell　upon　her　shoulder。　　She　was　sure　that　it　was　The　Sheik　and　she　awaited　in　dumb　terror　the　blow　that　she　knew　would　follow。

No　blow　came　and　she　looked　upward　over　her　shoulderinto　the　eyes　of　Abdul　Kamak；　the　young　Arab。

〃I　saw；〃　he　said；　〃the　picture　that　you　have　just　hidden。　　It　is　you　when　you　were　a　childa　very　young　child。　　May　I　see　it　again？〃

Meriem　drew　away　from　him。

〃I　will　give　it　back；〃　he　said。　　〃I　have　heard　of　you　and　I　know　that　you　have　no　love　for　The　Sheik；　your　father。　　Neither　have　I。　　I　will　not　betray　you。　　Let　me　see　the　picture。〃

Friendless　among　cruel　enemies；　Meriem　clutched　at　the　straw　that　Abdul　Kamak　held　out　to　her。　　Perhaps　in　him　she　might　find　the　friend　she　needed。　　Anyway　he　had　seen　the　picture　and　if　he　was　not　a　friend　he　could　tell　The　Sheik　about　it　and　it　would　be　taken　away　from　her。　　So　she　might　as　well　grant　his　request　and　hope　that　he　had　spoken　fairly；　and　would　deal　fairly。　She　drew　the　photograph　from　its　hiding　place　and　handed　it　to　him。

Abdul　Kamak　examined　it　carefully；　comparing　it；　feature　by　feature　with　the　girl　sitting　on　the　ground　looking　up　into　his　face。　　Slowly　he　nodded　his　head。

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃it　is　you；　but　where　was　it　taken？　　How　does　it　happen　that　The　Sheik's　daughter　is　clothed　in　the　garments　of　the　unbeliever？〃

〃I　do　not　know；〃　replied　Meriem。　　〃I　never　saw　the　picture　until　a　couple　of　days　ago；　when　I　found　it　in　the　tent　of　the　Swede；　Malbihn。〃

Abdul　Kamak　raised　his　eyebrows。　　He　turned　the　picture　over　and　as　his　eyes　fell　upon　the　old　newspaper　cutting　they　went　wide。　　He　could　read　French；　with　difficulty；　it　is　true；　but　he　could　read　it。　　He　had　been　to　Paris。　　He　had　spent　six　months　there　with　a　troupe　of　his　desert　fellows；　upon　exhibition；　and　he　had　improved　his　time；　learning　many　of　the　customs；　some　of　the　language；　and　most　of　the　vices　of　his　conquerors。　　Now　he　put　his　learning　to　use。　　Slowly；　laboriously　he　read　the　yellowed　cutting。　　His　eyes　were　no　longer　wide。　　Instead　they　narrowed　to　two　slits　of　cunning。　　When　he　had　done　he　looked　at　the　girl。

〃You　have　read　this？〃　he　asked。

〃It　is　French；〃　she　replied；　〃and　I　do　not　read　French。〃

Abdul　Kamak　stood　long　in　silence　looking　at　the　girl。　　She　was　very　beautiful。　　He　desired　her；　as　had　many　other　men　who　had　seen　her。　　At　last　he　dropped　to　one　knee　beside　her。

A　wonderful　idea　had　sprung　to　Abdul　Kamak's　mind。　　It　was　an　idea　that　might　be　furthered　if　the　girl　were　kept　in　ignorance　of　the　contents　of　that　newspaper　cutting。　　It　would　certainly　be　doomed　should　she　learn　its　contents。

〃Meriem；〃　he　whispered；　〃never　until　today　have　my　eyes　beheld　you；　yet　at　once　they　told　my　heart　that　it　must　ever　be　your　servant。　　You　do　not　know　me；　but　I　ask　that　you　trust　me。　I　can　help　you。　　You　hate　The　Sheikso　do　I。　　Let　me　take　you　away　from　him。　　Come　with　me；　and　we　will　go　back　to　the　great　desert　where　my　father　is　a　sheik　mightier　than　is　yours。　Will　you　come？〃

Meriem　sat　in　silence。　　She　hated　to　wound　the　only　one　who　had　offered　her　protection　and　friendship；　but　she　did　not　want　Abdul　Kamak's　love。　　Deceived　by　her　silence　the　man　seized　her　and　strained　her　to　him；　but　Meriem　struggled　to　free　herself。

〃I　do　not　love　you；〃　she　cried。　　〃Oh；　please　do　not　make　me　hate　you。　　You　are　the　only　one　who　has　shown　kindness　toward　me；　and　I　want　to　like　you；　but　I　cannot　love　you。〃

Abdul　Kamak　drew　himself　to　his　full　height。

〃You　will　learn　to　love　me；〃　he　said；　〃for　I　shall　take　you　whether　you　will　or　no。　　You　hate　The　Sheik　and　so　you　will　not　tell　him；　for　if　you　do　I　will　tell　him　of　the　picture。　　I　hate　The　Sheik；　and〃

〃You　hate　The　Sheik？〃　came　a　grim　voice　from　behind　them。

Both　turned　to　see　The　Sheik　standing　a　few　paces　from　them。　Abdul　still　held　the　picture　in　his　hand。　　Now　he　thrust　it　within　his　burnous。

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃I　hate　the　Sheik；〃　and　as　he　spoke　he　sprang　toward　the　older　man；　felled　him　with　a　blow　and　dashed　on　across　the　village　to　the　line　where　his　horse　was　picketed；　saddled　and　ready；　for　Abdul　Kamak　had　been　about　to　ride　forth　to　hunt　when　he　had　seen　the　stranger　girl　alone　by　the　bushes。

Leaping　into　the　saddle　Abdul　Kamak　dashed　for　the　village　gates。　　The　Sheik；　momentarily　stunned　by　the　blow　that　had　felled　him；　now　staggered　to　his　feet；　shouting　lustily　to　his　followers　to　stop　the　escaped　Arab。　　A　dozen　blacks　leaped　forward　to　intercept　the　horseman；　only　to　be　ridden　down　or　brushed　aside　by　the　muzzle　of　Abdul　Kamak's　long　musket；　which　he　lashed　from　side　to　side　about　him　as　he　spurred　on　toward　the　gate。　　But　here　he　must　surely　be　intercepted。　　Already　the　two　blacks　stationed　there　were　pushing　the　unwieldy　portals　to。　　Up　flew　the　barrel　of　the　fugitive's　weapon。　　With　reins　flying　loose　and　his　horse　at　a　mad　gallop　the　son　of　the　desert　fired　oncetwice；　and　both　the　keepers　of　the　gate　dropped　in　their　tracks。　　With　a　wild　whoop　of　exultation；　twirling　his　musket　high　above　his　head　and　turning　in　his　saddle　to　laugh　back　into　the　faces　of　his　pursuers　Abdul　Kamak　dashed　out　of　the　village　of　The　Sheik　and　was　swallowed　up　by　the　jungle。

Foaming　with　rage　The　Sheik　ordered　immediate　pursuit；　and　then　strode　rapidly　back　to　where　Meriem　sat　huddled　by　the　bushes　where　he　had　left　her。

〃The　picture！〃　he　cried。　　〃What　picture　did　the　dog　speak　of？　　Where　is　it？　　Give　it　to　me　at　once！〃

〃He　took　it；〃　replied　Meriem；　dully。

〃What　was　it？〃　again　demanded　The　Sheik；　seizing　the　girl　roughly　by　the　hair　and　dragging　her　to　her　feet；　where　he　shook　her　venomously。　　〃What　was　it　a　picture　of？〃

〃Of　me；〃　said　Meriem；　〃when　I　was　a　little　girl。　　I　stole　it　from　Malbihn；　the　Swedeit　had　printing　on　the　back　cut　from　an　old　newspaper。〃

The　Sheik　went　white　with　rage。

〃What　said　the　printing？〃　he　asked　in　a　voice　so　low　that　she　but　barely　caught　his　words。

〃I　do　not　know。　　It　was　in　French　and　I　cannot　read　French。〃

The　Sheik　seemed　relieved。　　He　almost　smiled；　nor　did　he　again　strike　Meriem　before　he　turned　and　strode　away　with　the　parting　admonition　that　she　speak　never　again　to　any　other　than　Mabunu　and　himself。　　And　along　the　caravan　trail　galloped　Abdul　Kamak　toward　the　north。


As　his　canoe　drifted　out　of　sight　and　range　of　the　wounded　Swede　the　Hon。　Morison　sank　weakly　to　its　bottom　where　he　lay　for　long　hours　in　partial　stupor。

It　was　night　before　he　fully　regained　consciousness。　　And　then　he　lay　for　a　long　time　looking　up　at　the　stars　and　trying　to　recollect　where　he　was；　what　accounted　for　the　gently　rocking　motion　of　the　thing　upon　which　he　lay；　and　why　the　position　of　the　stars　changed　so　rapidly　and　miraculously。　　For　a　while　he　thought　he　was　dreaming；　but　when　he　would　have　moved　to　shake　sleep　from　him　the　pain　of　his　wound　recalled　to　him　the　events　that　had　led　up　to　his　present　position。　　Then　it　was　that　he　realized　that　he　was　floating　down　a　great　African　river　in　a　native　canoealone；　wounded；　and　lost。

Painfully　he　dragged　himself　to　a　sitting　position。　　He　noticed　that　the　wound　pained　him　less　than　he　had　imagined　it　would。　He　felt　of　it　gingerlyit　had　ceased　to　bleed。　　Possibly　it　was　but　a　flesh　wound　after　all；　and　nothing　serious。　　If　it　totally　incapacitated　him　even　for　a　few　days　it　would　mean　death；　for　by　that　time　he　would　be　too　weakened　by　hunger　and　pain　to　provide　food　for　himself。

From　his　own　troubles　his　mind　turned　to　Meriem's。　　That　she　had　been　with　the　Swede　at　the　time　he　had　attempted　to　reach　the　fellow's　camp　he　naturally　believed；　but　he　wondered　what　would　become　of　her　now。　　Even　if　Hanson　died　of　his　wounds　would　Meriem　be　any　better　off？　　She　was　in　the　power　of　equally　villainous　menbrutal　savages　of　the　lowest　order。　　Baynes　buried　his　face　in　his　hands　and　rocked　back　and　forth　as　the　hideous　picture　of　her　fate　burned　itself　into　his　consciousness。　　And　it　was　he　who　had　brought　this　fate　upon　her！　　His　wicked　desire　had　snatched　a　pure　and　innocent　girl　from　the　protection　of　those　who　loved　her　to　hurl　her　into　the　clutches　of　the　bestial　Swede　and　his　outcast　following！　　And　not　until　it　had　become　too　late　had　he　realized　the　magnitude　of　the　crime　he　himself　had　planned　and　contemplated。　　Not　until　it　had　become　too　late　had　he　realized　that　greater　than　his　desire；　greater　than　his　lust；　greater　than　any　passion　he　had　ever　felt　before　was　the　newborn　love　that　burned　within　his　breast　for　the　girl　he　would　have　ruined。

The　Hon。　Morison　Baynes　did　not　fully　realize　the　change　that　had　taken　place　within　him。　　Had　one　suggested　that　he　ever　had　been　aught　than　the　soul　of　honor　and　chivalry　he　would　have　taken　umbrage　forthwith。　　He　knew　that　he　had　done　a　vile　thing　when　he　had　plotted　to　carry　Meriem　away　to　London；　yet　he　excused　it　on　the　ground　of　his　great　passion　for　the　girl　having　temporarily　warped　his　moral　standards　by　the　intensity　of　its　heat。　　But；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　a　new　Baynes　had　been　born。　Never　again　could　this　man　be　bent　to　dishonor　by　the　intensity　of　a　desire。　　His　moral　fiber　had　been　strengthened　by　the　mental　suffering　he　had　endured。　　His　mind　and　his　soul　had　been　purged　by　sorrow　and　remorse。

His　one　thought　now　was　to　atonewin　to　Meriem's　side　and　lay　down　his　life；　if　necessary；　in　her　protection。　　His　eyes　sought　the　length　of　the　canoe　in　search　of　the　paddle；　for　a　determination　had　galvanized　him　to　immediate　action　despite　his　weakness　and　his　wound。　　But　the　paddle　was　gone。　　He　turned　his　eyes　toward　the　shore。　　Dimly　through　the　darkness　of　a　moonless　night　he　saw　the　awful　blackness　of　the　jungle；　yet　it　touched　no　responsive　chord　of　terror　within　him　now　as　it　had　done　in　the　past。　　He　did　not　even　wonder　that　he　was　unafraid；　for　his　mind　was　en