SIROCCO.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13453, 1 June 1907, Page 3 (Supplement)

SIROCCO.

1 1 I i [PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL, ARRANGEMENT.) ill

> ill I BY KENNETH BROWN. J-

f [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] 0 [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] 1, V, [COPYRIGHT.] ii ■ 1, CHAPTER XXl.(Continued.) v 1 Duncan* found the Sultan in a cold, a pa- ■ thetic mood, such as ho had heard from £ ] common report prevailed with him when t] a lie was not excited. His hand did not v t tremble as ho lighted Ids cigarette, and lie * scrutinised the American with cool curiosi- j. t-y. The Vizier, on the other hand, stand- ' s ing behind the lounge of his master, could t not quite cover the nervous dread ho felt \i , at the possible outcome of this visit. a l To his surprise Duncan- found himself " l ' rather' embarrassed. He had never called * before on a man whom lie was trying to 3/ . . . " 1 rob of his favourite wife,- and had not una- 0 gined the delicacy of the situation. u ? With Oriental politeness the Sultan re- :l lieved the strain of the situation by talking \ ,on indifferent subjects. The Vizier as he > ! 1 listened and assisted at the conversation t gradually lost something of the suppressed '' e agitation that had marked him at first. He ' r regarded his master as a kind of human v s dynamite, and he had feared greatly that s Duncan might act as a detonating cap. Had r 0 lie had any idea- that . Duncan would have t accepted tho Sultan's invitation he would s d have found some way of avoiding his ac- t k ceptance, or rather —for the straightforward £ a- way always seemed best to him, when pos- l '- sible —he would simply not have delivered ' r- the invitation, and then have told the Sul- j 3- tan that Duncan was unwilling to trust J n himself in his palace. The Vizier's brow had hardly smoothed ' r itself to its accustomed non-committal J n smoothness, when his full horror was arous- a g ed by a request from the Sultan that he •' I, would go out of the room and leave Dun- •' 'V can alone with him. The Vizier cast a ' d pleading look at his master, and began to ' J. stammer out such words of protest as lie h dared, me Sultan, cutting him short with 1 ie an impatient gesture, in which Duncan s e could see the quick-rising fury at being i- crossed, repeated his command, and no 1 :r more words came from the troubled lips of se the Vizier. j u When the agitated door had closed upon ! 2,' the chief functionary of his realm the Sill- 1 g tan, with his demeanour as calm and cool d as it was at first, said: _ * 1- "My Vizier tells me that it is only for • 1- the hope of money that you have returned ' 'U to Kub-hub-nol." _ _ , Duncan was rather startled at this direct le coming to the point, yet he saw, with the t. quick ability to judge men which experiig ence brings, that there was in the Sultan < e a strain of something nobler than he had ' c | expected, of something better thah there was in the accomplished Vizier. With iy some adversaries it pays best to belittle e one's self before the contest, as trainers beie little their horses before the race. With ' I; others it is different. It was war between ; it Duncan and the Sultan, war to tho bitter ' m end, yet to the Sultan Duncan did not feel ' ie moved to declare himself a simple black- < mailer, as lie had to the Vizier. n Your Majesty," Duncan said slowly, ' iO "one does not always.tell the motive." 1 id " Then you love her yourself?" A yellow 1 light began to burn in the deep-set eyes that had looked so cold, i- " I have never seen her," Duncan said t- quickly. ." I was only going to take her i, back to her friends." i. " But why should she want to go back .•e to her friends?" the Sultan burst forth, I his calm changing to black passion, as a )U placid lake darkens at the breath of a sudie den storm. " Why should she not be hapce py here? She repels my love. Why does she?" His voice in the last sentence had >u less of anger than almost pathetic bewilи, dement. " For what are women created ;h except to minister to the pleasures of men? se What can they desire higher than to be loved by them? To be loved by men is their life, their happiness. Do wo not 116 know that even after death they are perce mitted to exist, and are made young again, se merely to give fresh pleasure to us in paraof dis*? And is it not paradise on earth to be id chosen for my harem?" th Duncan shook his head. He was a trader, '1" not a dialectician. He felt that the Sultan '1> had somehow got the world and its values es mixed, yet he did not see how he could set ,ie him straight. , The Sultan saw the dissent m Duncan s •Is face and gesture. He rose from his seat :,n and walked up and down the room, the 1- rage and disappointment of his heart plain 'd in his tread. 311 "What would you do?" he asked at ; 'i- length, abruptly, to the American. "You ie are of her race. You know how your men i' e win your women. You know how they ' ie make them give themselves up to them. I do not understand." He threw his hands upward with a gesture of despair, at] "I am not a lady's man," Duncan anje | swered slowly. " I am what we . call a ysiman's man. But, in general, I should say n. i that you had put the cart before the a | horse." erj "The cart before the horse?" the Sultan as« repeated. "I do not understand." or; "We generally do our courting before j re' marriage,' Duncan explained drily. j Oh! you think it is because I had her iie! kidnapped and brought here bv force?" the id ■ Sultan asked as simply as a child, a new tie ' idea struggling into his mind, e, i "It might tend to create a prejudice d, 'against Your Majesty in. an English girl's tie | mind," Duncan said gravely. ! "I should have thought that she would el.be pleased that I cared.so much." id! The intonation showed Duncan that the v, j Sultan honestly believed the world could ill j contain no greater blessing for Dalir.era rv Grahame than being abducted by the Sulge tan of Sirocco. Duncan did not care to j re suggest to the Sultan—as lie knew it would j ij)e impossible to convince himthat it!

light not be considered so great an honour ■ < - i Europe. There is .1 certain etiquette to be . ') - bserved in talking to a Sultan in bis own alace. Curiously enough, too, Duncan felt ' liking for the Saltan, and the liking was |jeciproeated. The Sultan had talked to he American as bo had had no intention i f doing, and even while conserving all his j itetilion of killing the American, could con- ':';' de in Stint as he could, not to any of his ; wn retinue. -." ■ | |ji " What shall I do to please her?" In* jj I sked, with a plaintive not*? in hi* voice. \\ 'hen suddenlv changing to fury, he burst at: "To think that I should condescend ' ? .''A o ask a man like yon how to win favour « rith my own wives!" $Vi Duncan received the outburst in absolute toiidity, and after a minute the Sultan ;,'.' dded grudgingly: " But since I have asked i £, ou—tell me!" ! .; It seemed to Duncan that there might be | ' chance here for a grand stroke for the J: lslant success of his mission. In the Snl- j '-. ah's passionate nature what height of J enerosity might he not be capable of? I.* " You might set her at liberty—send her ack to her friends." J The Sultan stared at him in astonishdent. " But then 1 should low* her. ho is aid simply. v : r Duncan shrugged his shoulders. "l! is ■■'."•?-■ no way of gaining favour with a woman in iv —giving her up when you can't ct her. ' • -_ The Sultan shook his head. This method lid not recommend its<-!r to him at all. You have no philtres—no charms'"'" he \\ sked. " When you came here as a black- i mith"—the veins on the Sultan's forehead welled with anger at the remembrance, of )uncan's past conduct, lie controlled hit- * elf and continued, even as Duncan's hand nstinctivdy crept towards the revolver in lis breast---" you gave an amulet for sickless which worked well." " 1 have none whose efficacy is sure," Duncan answered slowly, seeing a way |. ipening for communicating again with Dalnera Grahumc. "There are, it is true, cor. |,* :ain phrases which may be written on | , >apcr, whose effect is soothing to a mind S; ntlamed by unnatural dislike. That is the j irwt step towards love.'' |- "Sit down and write them." the Sultan £.; commanded. He touched a bell, and or* :|- iered pen and paper from tho slave that J ame. | '. •' I would rather write it at home---'* ■'*• "Write- it now!" the Sultan repeated, » 'learn of suspicion mingling with the quick j '■ tnger of the tyrant who lias not learned to lake a refusal from man. ■ "> ' Wmle waiting for the paper and pen : .1 Duncan racked his mind for soma message " il that should tell the recipient of tho j I 'charm" that he was still trying to rescue her, to bid her keep up hope. The harder , ...•!; he thought the more ais mind seemed an i absolute blank. He had only felt so helpless '■%} on two occasions before in his life; the time he had been thrown into the stream of pitch by Aurablis, Queen of the Anabazis, and at an examination in a little j | sehoolhouse in Maine, after a term spent ■[■ I largely in truancy— wandering traits I j had developed early-— lie had tried I vainly to write, } " Tho slave brought tho writing materials, i and Duncan dipped the pen into tho ink. He smoothed out tho paper, and examined 1 the."nib of the pen, as if the efficacy of the f writing depended on that. Tho Sultan J watched him jealously. if Duncan dipped the pen into the ink again. j He placed the point of the pen on the middle ' ■ 'j' of the page. Slowly ho formed a lareg let- i ter D, for no other reason except that it j was one of the twenty-six letters of the' j alphabetperhaps because it began his own ■ I name. The tip of his tongue formed the " I'd letter D silently against the- roof of his ' y'l mouth, and his tongue thus beginning a. i word, to a mind absolutely blank, went on. ; | of its own accord into the words of the old | nursery rhyme, " Dickory dock." He added ] a, Hickory" on in front, and then surveyed ' A the whole with a feeling of satisfaction it» i j is given to few authors to know. An in- j I tense relief was in his heart that any words ' | had been vouchsafed him. An. instant be- * 1 fore the universe had seemed wordlessa L j void into which speech had never entered. I I He finished the foolish little nursery < .jl rhyme. After all, it might lead to some- | *f thing. Tho words r>rere sufficiently non- ; j sensical and mysterious to satisfy the Sul- "| | tan, and Dalmera Grahame would probably | ; j guess from them that lie was in the vicinity j and trying to find a way to help her. , She i --A might even herself find some way to send j •] him a message, knowing that ho'was in. ] j Kub-bub-nol. '~ I '•] He handed the sheet of paper to the Sul« | | tan. ■ " That is the best I know," he said. j / .j He did not want to leave any chance for ; { a demand for further charms,, in the revul- I ] sion of feeling that came over, him, It. | 4 seemed to him that he would never wish J -fj to put pen to paper again as long as he ] ■] lived. _ .J'. I A The Sultan studied the first line, and ', j?l was impressed. After he had finished the [J stanza ho looked up. ■< I "The words seem simple. Can you ex- j plain their inner meaning?" he asked. . t "| "Only the wisest of our wise men can K do that. But you can see what potency 1 there must be in them," Duncan answered .; impressively. ' _ . i /^ "It is well," the Sultan said, with. » ; subtle change of manner; " and I will give ... ■ ■• you your reward —a. reward for all you have J done for me." He spoke with a soft sibi- | ■* lance that warned like the hiss of a snake. t //. "And now, goodbye." The Sultan held out his hand to Duncan. \\ Shaking hands is never practised by Siroc- ' t:M cans, and the American's quick suspicions were aroused. He knew the Sultan prided himself on adopting no foreign custom. . The streak of dare-devilry in Duncan, i fi which was usually well curbed by his cau- \ ;:| tion, canio to the front once more. "You do not want to shake hands with me," be \-Q said, and opened his hand, palm upwards, in front of the Sultan. The poison-ring, T I with its deadly point oozing a little of the ' '. greenish liquid, was revealed. ~■'•■■ t ■:■ The Sultan blanched. "Would you kill J A me in my own palace':" he cried. As with j j many despots, assassination was his horror. ' J^.g He reached out to touch the bell that would call his slaves from the ante-chamber. .;. : "Hold on a minute," Duncan said. "Be- f fore you call your guard, suppose you open j :t> your own hand?" The Sultan stopped. Then he laughed, ; and opening his fingers displayed another poison-ring to match the one that Duncan wore. He extended his arm, his hand still open. "Will you now accept my hand':" he asked. ' I;:;;! What possessed the American to do what ; :; he now did, he never could tell. He was not anxious to die. To die himself, even, accompanied by the death of ths Sultan, '•?■-..»?. would effect nothing towards the release of the English girl—indeed, it would for ever prevent, her gaining her freedom. Yet slowly he extended his hand, and slowly ad- •, vanced to take the hand of the Sultan. It was not a bluff. So surely as the Sultan were to keep his hand where it was, so surely would both die within a few seconds, though nothing was gained for either by the sacrifice. ' They were three steps apart, yet eternitv . seemed to stand still while Duncan took ffil them. j.';.'; Their hands almost touched, when the '!'''■■' Sultan dropped his. Ha laughed again, • softly. - - ; '. : "You are a brave man," he said; and although Duncan was within striking (lis- ; * tance, had he meditated treachery, the Sultan did not recoil from him, or call for the protection of his guard. " You are the bravest.man I have ever known. But the . stakes are not equal. lam the Sultan, and you ,-i ;' . _ "Have only one life to live," Duncan put in, as the other hesitated, his Oriental po- . liteness at fault to describe the difference ( between man and man. (To bo continued daily.)