THE NOVELIST

Otago Witness, Issue 3854, 24 January 1928, Page 62

THE NOVELIST

THE GATE OF RINGING SANDS.

By

OTTWELL BINNS.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.;

CHAPTER XIV. ' Guided by the unknown, within five minutes Claverdon found himself standing outside a small house on the outer rim of the cluster of buildings that made up the village. “We have arrived,” said his mentor. “Wait here and I will make a light.” “ Which will be wasted on my blind eyes—to which light and dark are both alike.”

“ Aye, but no waste to me, brother, in a house that is hired from its owner. Also I would look upon the face of a friend.”

Claverdon was not particularly anxious that he should, but made no unreasonable demur, and presently he was standing by a smoky fire, staring through his spectacles at the man who stood in the dim light of the primitive lamp. His host, quite unconscious of his guest’s scrutiny, was in turn examining him closely,', and in silence. Claverdon noticed that, and as the man the better to see his face I’ifted the lamp, holding it so that the light fell on his oo face as on his'.guest’s, he gave a little start. '’

“ It is far for a blind man to travel from Gabare in Dardistan to this place, brother,” said his host a little tentatively. Claverdon grinned suddenly and replied in English. “True! It is farther than from the house in the garden at Baltit! ” “The devil!” cried the other, amazed. “ Claverdon! ” “ Who else,' Waldron ? You gave me a bad scare when I saw you watching me in that gateway.” “You were the man in the street?” “Yes! I followed you, thinking I might scrape acquaintance and learn something ” Claverdon laughed in turn. “My idea when I came with you ” He broke off sharply. “Helen Wargrave is here? ” “ In that house you were watching.” “ Ah! You know Narani is there—” “ A prisoner of Melnikoff’s ! Yes 1 They seem at cross purposes.’’ “ They are. I’ll tell you presently about that. Do you know what use that cursed Cossack proposes to make of Miss Wargrave ?” “ I’ve heard a rumour—” “ Whilst I stood in that archway I heard Melnikoff explain the whole of his beastly intention. When these dirty fanatics'have done their worst, she’s to be made a symbol of the coming degradation of the white race—a sort of exhibit in a Roman triumph. You’ve got to get her out of that house—and soon, Waldron. In three days—” “ Yes, I know that, There are as many mullahs as there fleas in this place, with more coming, and it is easy to hear some things. Melnikoff is staging the manifestation of his Mahdi mainly for the priests. When, it is through they will carry the fiery cross—” “ And the tribes will kindle like petrol. We’ve got to stop it at all costs.” “ But how? 1 came near to knifing Melnikoff in that archway. If only I had only known who you were—”

“ That wouldn’t have done the trick. Melnikoff is the arch-plotter, but Rahman Ali is the key to the position. Even with the Cossack lying stark, the faked manifestation wouid probably go forward. under Ali’s own direction. And once it is accomplished the damage is done. If one knew where Rahman Ali— ’ ,

“ I know,” broke in the other. “ There’s a house-sort of fort on a hill across the valley—” “ I saw it to-day.” “ He’s there with a bodyguard of Melnikoff’s. Hard to get at in more ways than one.”

“ But it has got to be done. Half these mullahs will believe anything that servi» the Faith.'*-And once the thing is started ” He broke off sharply as some thought canie to him. “ Allah! ’’ he cried. “■ I know a way; Rahman Ali is infatuated with Narani. He probably doesn’t know she’s here, at any rate that confounded Cossack won’t have told him- that he holds her a prisoner. If she sent a message that she was in danger, asking him to come to her help, nothing would hold the cockerel back. And if he came on his own, three resolute men could scoop him up ” “ Three? ”'

“ Yes; Nima-Taslii is up there in the hills waiting for me. He would be a host in a job of that kind. There’s a halfwitted Russian there, too but he would be no use.” ’ “ But that woman—Narani ? How are we to get at her? ” “ Leave that to me. A blind man can blunder his way into any hole—particularly when he can see.” Claverdon laughed shortly. “ Knowing where she hangs out is half the game, and if ” He broke off as a rumbling sound came through the night. “ That’s Ringing oanda.”

I “ Yes. They’re sounding every hour <?r two now. Melnikoff has the trick of them. ' And this business of the Imam is being well staged. Every time they ring, the mullahs mouth prayers, and their fervour grdws.” Where is the place? ” “ Three-quarters of a mile up the valley at the back of the village. I’ve located it; but haven’t seen it. Neither has any of the crowd here. They regard it as a sort of Holy of Holies, and approach is ’utterly forbidden until the hour of manifestation.”

■ ‘ Um ! Another place that a blind man might excusably stumble on. But first things first. I’m going back to that house where I heard Melnikoff and Narani ta.king. Tou might follow at a discreet distance, and hold a watching brief. If there is trouble your help may save the situation.” : “ Yes.”

I /?V n t l , thinl S/y e w!il start at once. But first does Melnikoff lodge there?” No! He s at another house where the big gun among the mullahs—sort of cardinal—hangs out. I suspect the two ar o ork , ln ß t!lls business together ” t+l • ?° a: u. Then lhe fiekl is Lairlv clear. I think well start at once.” Waldron blew out the lamp, and opened the door. Claverdon stepped out into the moonlit street, and began to shuffle on his way, his stick tapping noisily. When he was half-way to his destination the Ringing Sands spoke again, filling the night with strange sound. As the reverberation died away, from somewhere in the hills behind the village sounded a clear, sonorous voice: “La Ilaha ill’allahu! Allaho Akbar! ’’ lie looked up at the stars, wondering if it were already midnight, and if this was the call to prayer which at that dead hour rings through the Moslem world. The heavens told him that yet that hour was not come, and as another voice close at hand, the voice of a man who stood like a statue on a house-top, echoed the cry, he muttered to himself:

“Well staged, indeed! A little personal fervour will do no harm.” He smiled to himself as in a voice that rang up the street he cried : “ Allaho Akb'ar! ” The voice on the hill sounded once more: “ Mahomed is the prophet of God! ”

And as the man on the house-top echoed it, Claverdon waited, listening tothe kindling cry that had rung through the ages, wondering if again it was soon to set the wild world of the hills afire; then as the witnessing voices died away he resumed his way. It was not yet the full tide of night, but it was late; and his fear was that he might find those of the house where Narani was had retired to rest, as obviously most others in the village had. As he stumbled into the dark gateway, he gave one glance over his shoulder, and saw that his friend was following at a discreet distance, then he went forward. As he did so, over his head he caught the faint glow which came from a sort of grating let in the wall, and which had explained to him how he had been able to overhear the conversation an hour before.

His heart leapt at the sight. His task, he thought to himself, was to be easier than he could possibly have hoped. After a glance backward and forward to make sure that he was not observed he stooped, groped about until he found two or three ‘ small stones and flung them at the grating. Having done so he waited. There was no response to his signal. He tried again twice, still with the same disappointing result. Then he felt the wall under the grating, thinking it might be possible to climb; but second thoughts decided him against that course, since in case of discovery blindness would be no excuse. The frontal atttack, it seemed, was the only possible one. He shuffled forward again, his stick tapping vigorously. The archway opened on a courtyard round which the house was built, and in his first glance round he caught sight of a door close at hand. He made his way towards it, his stick tapping the walls of the house, and when it touched the door he smote the latter heavily. Almost instantly it was flung open, and a big hill-man confronted him.

“Who art thou that comes knocking here in the darkness?”

“The blind mullah of Gabare, whose servant has deserted him for an evil woman. May Allah shrivel the souls of both the lecherous ones.” “ But what wantest thou—blind one ? ” asked the other, peering into his face. “ A place to sleep until the morning,” he said boldly. “ There are the stalls where the horses arc. Thou art welcome to ”

“Stalls!” he broke out truculently. “Thou misbegotten son of a woman of shame! Is it thus one who comes to the Great Manifestation is treated? Am

I a dog that I should be sent to rest among horses’ filth? May Allah curse- ”

“Nay! Nay! Cur.se not!” broke in the hill-man hurriedly. “ Step inside, holy one. That I named the stalls was no more .than a jest ” “ A jest with evil words, which Allah loveth not —neither those who are covetous and turn away from almsgiving. If he shall curse ”

“ In the name of the Compassionate, enter, holy one whom he hath afflicted.” “Afflicted, aye! But for a means of greater glory. For when the Tmam hath • declared himself he will touch my eyes, and give them the brightness of fire. That is already known, and when the miracle is wrought then those who have given alms ” “ Enter ! ” cried the man. “ I beseech thee A strong hand gripped Claverdon’s arm, and whilst its owner spoke mollifying words, almost dragged him into the house. He suffered himself to be conducted to a sleeping-shelf, where two other men lay in. deep slumber. “ Brothers of thitie are here,” the man whispered. “In the morning thev will look after thee and find that erring fool thy servant. Sleep well, U blind U*. lie stretched himself on the shelf, and, under cover of his glasses, watched the tnan withdraw. A few minutes passed. The fire, which, warmed and lit the room crackled and shot up flames, and he looked cautiously round. The two men in the room slept so deeply they might have been dead; but from somewhere came a sound of movement, possibly made my the man who had admitted him, and whofti he guessed for the owner of the house. Half an hour, an hour vyent by, and save for a sound of snoring, the whole house was still as death. The fire had burned very low, the light it gave was very dim scarcely sufficient to show him the doorway, as, slipping cautiously to his feet, he began to make his way towards it. Reaching it, he removed his glasses, and bestowing them in a safe place, stood listening. There was no sound anywhere,. save one that he guessed to be made by a gnawing mouse. Strive as he would to pierce the Stygian gloom, he could see nothing, but remembering the position of the archway, and knowing that the room with the grating must be to the left, he began cautiously to grope his way in that direction. Two minutes later his hand ’ missed the wall, encountering vacancy, and further invest! gallon told him that he stood by the doorless entrance into a room. He took another step forward, and peered in. The smell of smouldering wood stung his nostrils, but all that he could se e was a single red spark glowing in the darkness.

He listened, and caught a sound of light breathing. There was, he told himself, some one asleep within the room. Who was it? Narani? He decided that it was, and taking a single step forward he whispered into the blackness: • ■' “ Narani.” ; There was no sort of response, and he tried again, whispering more loudly': “Narani.” .

Thi s time the breathing checked; there was the sound of an abrupt movement, then came Narani’s golden voice: “ Who is there? ” “S-s-s-h-h! ” he cautioned. “ Speak low. It is I, Louis Claverdon.” Again there was the sound of movement, a patter of light feet upon the floor, and the spark which had glowed in the darkness was obscured. But quite apart from that he knew that Narani stood before him, close to him in the blackness. He knew it as well as if he had seen her, knew it by the tingling of his nerves, the leap of his heart. Impulsively he stretched a hand. It touched a shoulder in the darkness, and the blood in his veins seemed turned to flame. He remembered her as he had first seen her in her house at Delhi—a woman to quicken any man's heart-beats ; again he heard her cry of apprehension in the train after the attempt upon his life, remembered her anxiety for him on the house-boat , and recalled how she had returned to warn him, and how at the House of the Gong she,had saved his life, and with the crowding memories passion kindled within him.

. “Narani!” he whispered. “Narani!” He felt her quiver under his touch, and then heard her whispering voice halfchoked with apprehension : “Oh ! This is folly’! To come here—“ “ No! ” he interrupted. “ You are here. In danger. I heard Melnikoff threatening you to-night! ” For the moment his purpose was forgotten. Concern for the woman was uppermost, her safety his supreme anxiety. “ You must not stay here. You must come away. My dear ... my dear —” His voice shook, emotion choked his; utterance for a moment, and again he felt her quivering under his hand. She made a little impulsive movement, the responsive movement that a woman makes to a lover’s appeal, and his arms found her in the darkness and folded her to him. “ Oh-hl ”

The word was almost a sob, and as he held her yielding form he knew that the emotion which was moving him was an overwhelming thing in her. “ You must come away, Narani,” he whispered passionately. “Now! I will take you. Nima-Tashi is on the hill—waiting ; and I have a friend outside. Ivan Melnikoff means to revenge himself on vo': but mn-oiry '' ’ rn n I'e in safety, moving southward for the Border. And —”

“ Ah! but I cannot go!” she whispered back. “There are things to be done, first! You do not know. I am pledged to defeat Ivan Melnikoff’s purpose and so revenge a brother who is dead—” “ I know,” he interrupted. " I know. But the Red Cossack is stronger than you.” “No! ” She spoke sharply. “I am not so helpless as I seem. I have but to appeal to Rahman Ali, and Ivan Mel-

nikoff dare not hurt a hair of my head lest his purpose should be frustrated.” He knew that as well as she did, Entering that house he had meant to exploit that very possibility, but now in hi 3 extreme concern for her he saw net the possibilities of serving his own end, but rather the peril in which such an appeal must involve her.

“I know!” he whispered, “I know! But ”

And there is another reason. Somewhere in this house there i 3 an English girl ” • “ Helen Wargrave? ” “lies. I have spoken to her for four minutes. She is young, and threatened by a desperate fate. I promised that I would save her ; and she believed me. I can do no other than fulfil my promise, and if I go away now ” “ But how can you save her? You are a prisoner yourself.” “ If I send to Rahman Ali he will come. If I promise him——” i “ God ! you must not do that. It would be monstrous. Such sacrifice is not asked of anyone. No one has the right to expect _ it. You must not do it. Do you hear ? You must not.” His voice shook as he made the protest, and almost unconsciously he crushed her in his arms. Narani laughed softly. “ There are some promises one would' rather die than keep A woman fights with a woman’s weapons—as Nima-Tashi wmuld know. I could send a token to Rahman-Ali that would bring him hot-foot to my deliverance. If he knew that I was in durance he would kill Ivan Melnikoff out of hand.” “ I shall do that myself,” said Claverdo:i tensely. ‘ But there are other things first,” said Narani. with a deep conviction that told him sue was not to be deflected from the course sh e had set herself. “It is enough that Ivan Melnikoff should die. Before that he must see the defeat of his. hopes—the frustration of a purpose for which, as I know, he has laboured for three long years. That is why I have worked with Rahman Ali, encouraged him, suffered his vile attentions—for that Ono- thing, that before Ivan Melnikoff dies n^ ( may know that he has utterly failed.” But if your purpose should go awry? ” he^ whispered in vehement protest. It will not! If I S end the token w:.h a. message Rahman Ali would come to me through flood and flame. He would s av e me—sacrifice a kingdom ” Uho would not? ” said "Claverdon passionately. “ I myself ” He broke off; and then whispered her name: ‘ Narani! ” I 1 or the first time his lips sought hers, and for a moment the two were speechless in an ecstasy that lost nothing of ’ its rapture from the consciousness of the peril which environed them. Then after a minute he spoke again. “ There is a way. It was in my mind when I entered this house to look for you. You shall give me the token and message for Rahman Ali. That he will come I am sure; but he will never reach you. I shall see to that. If he did it might be the end of all things for yourself as well as Ivan Melnikoff. The latter can be defeated another way, and that is by getting hold of Rahman Ali. That would prevent the hocus-pocus of the manifestation of the Imam Medi, and discredit the Cossack utterly. And these fanatical mullahs would see to the rest. Probably they would turn on him in revenge ” “ But he would not know that I was tne cause of his undoing, and T want him to know that.” “ I promise you that he shall know—” He broke off at a slight sound somewhere outside the room. Standing there, with his arms about Narani, he listened tensely. The sound came again. “ Someone is moving in the house,” lie whispered in her very ear. “ Yes.” The sound resolved itself into a padded. footstep, as if one were walking in felt slippers, and a second later he heard Narani give a little gasp. “ The man comes this way. He brings a lamp.” Claverdon turned swiftly at her whispered words. Beyond the doorway was a faint glow of light, the sound of the padded step was drawing nearer. He knew that if the unseen man c.i- e to the door there was no hope of his evading discovery, and he acted swiftly.

“The token for Rahman Ali? You have it? Yes? . . . Give it me.” She moved her arms from -bout him, there was a further movement, then her hand found his, and thrust a ring into it. “ That will bring ” The light was much nearer. Its glow showed him Narani’s face, tl.e beautiful eyes aflame with apprehension. It also revealed the barrenness of the room. There was no hiding-place worth the name in its four walls; and those nearing footsteps told him that discovery was imminent. He spoke in a swift, urgent whisper. “Go to your place. Lie down. Pretend to sleep. Maybe he will not enter the room. Do not interfere in any case.” She slid from his arms, and moved away noiselessly. He slipped the ring on a finger, then took a couple of quick steps which brought him against the wall, out of eyeshot' of anyone outside the doorway, then, scarcely breathing, he waited for what was to follow. The footsteps ceased outside the doorway, and the light of the lantern carried by the unknown lit up the bare interior of the room dimly, showing Narani apparently deep in slumber. For one moment there was no sound at all, and he had a hope that the new-comer having seen Narani was safe was about to retire the way that he had come. Then there came a sound which made his heart leap

-—the sound of a forward step—and a second later the man was in the room, with the lantern lifted, looking round. Claverdon glimpsed his face and recognised it for that of the hill-man who had admitted him to the house. The man saw him in the same moment, and gave a chuckling laugh.

“Ho ! Hq I sightless one! ” Thine eyes are not blind to beauty, then?” He chuckled again. “ But perhaps they are not so dim as thou wouldst have one belive—blind mullah of Gabare, if mullah thou art I But that shall be proved.” The man grinned, and took a step backward towards the doorway; and in that moment Clavcrdon acted, leaping on him tigerishly. He caught the man by the throat, preventing him from crying out, and as the follow dropped the lantern, they wrestled together desperately. The lantern being extinguished by the fall they fought in darkness, Claverdon in desperate silence, the hill-man, in an endeavour to cry out and, already choking, in an endeavour to make as much noise as possible. They fell; over and over they rolled on the floor, Claverdon with ears straining for sounds that would tell him that the desperate gamble was lost to him ; then the hill-man gave one tremendous heave; following that all his limbs relaxed, and he lay supine. .The Englishman, fearing the man might be foxing, kept his stranglehold for a moment or two, all the while acutely conscious of sounds of movement in the house. Then out of the darkness of the room behind came a tremulous whisper: “ Oh, my beloved ”

“Safe! ” he answered. “But there are Others coming. I must go. You know toothing of this -carrion, remember.” There were voices, footsteps, as he slid towards the door, which was held by a wooden bar. As he dropped the latter the voices grew suddenly louder, and there was the noise of hurrying steps. 1“ Not here! ” sounded a man’s tones, proving that a search was being made. Opening ' the door only sufficiently to allow egress, he slipped out into the courtyard, pulling the door swiftly behind him. The moon had dipped behind the hills, and the yard was full of shadows. For a moment he stood to make sure that he was not observed, and as he waited heard feet hurry bj on the other side of the door. There followed a startled shout, proclaiming the discovery of the man whom he had strangled, and knowing that he had little time he ran towards the archway. He almost collided with a figure lurking there, and guessed rather than recognised his friend. “ Quick, Waldron ! For the Lord’s sake! ”

Together they ran through the archway, and down the twisting street. At the first turn they slackened to listen, and heard voices shouting. Then, since there was none to remark how a blind man could run, they fled on between th) echoing walls.

(To -be continued).