Miss Caprice Part 30

"You are not in a condition to go. Stay here and protect the ladies, for it is a lonely place, and there may be wild animals in these woods, who knows?" With which words the young American throws himself on the horse's back and urges the animal along over the road they have traveled, followed by the anxious eyes of Lady Ruth.

CHAPTER XVI.

A FRENCH WARRIOR.

John digs his heels into the sides of the animal he bestrides, and urges him on with every artifice known to a jockey, and considering the darkness, the rough nature of the road, and the weariness of the beast, he succeeds in getting over the ground at quite a respectable rate.

Thus, meeting no one on the way, he finally bursts upon the village of Birkadeen much after the manner of a thunderbolt from a clear sky, and dashes up to the office of the stage line, which, as may be supposed, is managed by Franks.

A Frenchman has charge, and upon his vision there suddenly bursts a dusty figure, with hair dest.i.tute of covering, and clothing awry, a figure that has leaped from a horse bathed in sweat; a figure he imagines has broken loose from some mad-house, yet which upon addressing him shows a wonderful amount of coolness.

"Are you the agent of the stage line?" is the first question fired at him.

"I am Monsieur Constans. I have ze charge of ze elegant equipage line zat you speak of as one stage," returns the Frenchman.

"You remember my pa.s.sing through here a little while ago, bound for Algiers?"

"_Parbleu!_ zat is so. I am astonish. What for are you back on ze horseback, too. _Mon Dieu!_ have ze robbers been at it again? Ten souzan fury, and ze _cadi_ promise zat we have no more trouble wif zem."

At the mention of the word John experiences a sudden chill, remembering that he has left Lady Ruth and Aunt Gwen upon the loneliest part of the road to Algiers; but becomes somewhat rea.s.sured when it also crosses his memory that the gallant professor and the soldier hero of Zulu battles are there to defend them.

"You are mistaken. The miserable vehicle has broken down," he says.

"_Ciel!_ is zat all?"

"All! Confound your impudence, and isn't it enough when two ladies are almost killed outright by the accident? All! when we've been rattled about like dry peas in a pod, until there's hardly a square inch of me that doesn't ache. I'll tell you, monsieur, what you are to do, and in a dused hurry, too. Order out another stage and fly to the scene of the wreck without delay."

"Begar! if I only had a vehicle," he groans.

"You shall find one of some sort inside of five minutes and go with me to the scene to rescue my friends, and take them to safety, or you must take the consequences," and in his excitement John glowers upon the dapper Gaul until the latter actually trembles with trepidation.

"Stop! I have zink of something. Zere is one old vehicle in ze shed, laid by for repairs. By careful handling it would do."

"Good! Get horses. .h.i.tched to it; we must lose no time. To the rescue, Monsieur Constans. Ladies have been hurt; they must be taken to the city as speedily as possible."

The Gaul is excitable by nature, and he catches some of John's surplus enthusiasm, springs to his feet, and is out of the office door like a shot, shouting almost unintelligible orders to the gang of dirty Arabs who have rushed to the scene upon the advent of a Frank entering the village like a young cyclone and riding a horse that from its harness they recognize as belonging to the stage line.

John, finding they make such poor headway, proceeds to lend his a.s.sistance, and under his directions the job is finally completed.

An old stage, even worse than the wrecked one, is brought out, and the horse John rode harnessed to it. Then a second animal is secured, and after some difficulty about the harness has been adjusted, they are off.

There is, of course, danger that the same catastrophe will happen to them, but the emergency is great, and John handles the reins himself.

Thus through the darkness they proceed, gradually nearing the scene of the disaster.

The nearer they come the more John's fears arise, though he would find it hard to give good reasons for them, since they rest only upon the words that have been let fall by the dapper little French agent who sits beside him on the box, and holds on for dear life, uttering numerous exclamations, in his explosive way, as they pitch and toss.

A tree looms up. John recognizes it as a mark which just preceded their overthrow. Hence, the wrecked stage must lie just beyond, so he pulls in his horse and tries to pierce the darkness that lies like a pall around.

They have at his suggestion brought a lantern along, but of course this is of little use to them as yet.

"What is that cry up on the hill-side?" asks John, as he hears a peculiar sound.

"Monsieur es worry; he need be. Zat is some rascally jackal or hyena; zey hover around ze villages and do much mischief. I have seen zem myself carry off one sheep."

This is not very pleasant intelligence, but John is now engaged in trying to pierce the gloom, and believes he sees some object that may prove to be the wrecked stage.

He sings out with a hail:

"Ah, there, professor!"

Not a reply; only what seems to be an echo is flung back from the hill-side.

Then John's heart stands still with a sudden fear, as he imagines that some terrible thing has occurred. He raises his voice and calls upon Philander. When there comes no reply to this, he makes use of Sir Lionel's name and bellows it forth until the valley seems to ring with the sound. Still hopeless, for no answer bids him drop his fears.

Now the fact is a.s.sured that something serious has happened.

John jumps to the ground, desirous of seeing whether they have actually reached the spot where the wrecked omnibus lies.

He finds it to be true, and in another moment is standing upon the very place where Aunt Gwen reclined at the time of his departure.

There is much room for speculation. Any one of half a dozen things might have happened, for to one who is utterly in the dark, there is no end of possibilities.

What can he do?

One chance there is, that while he, Doctor Chicago, was absent, bent upon his errand of mercy and rescue, Mustapha may have once more appeared upon the scene, and influenced the little party to move on in the direction of the distant city.

He still places implicit confidence in the guide, and has strong hopes, though the absence of the Arab at the time of the accident is utterly unexplainable.

By this time monsieur has descended from his perch, and joins him. In his hand he carries the lantern, ready for use.

"What have you found, _mon ami_?" asks this worthy, as he arrives on the scene.

"Here is the wrecked stage, but my friends have vanished. It puzzles me to know what has become of them."

"No doubt they have gone ahead, fearing that you could not ze new vehicle obtain. We may soon discover ze truth."

"By going forward, yes; but before we do that, perhaps I can learn something about the direction they took."

"Ah! you will apply ze wonderful science of ze prairie. I have heard of it, begar, and I shall be one very glad to see ze experiment."

He poses in an att.i.tude of expectation, and keeps his eyes fastened upon the other, who has already picked up the lantern and bends over, with the intention of following the trail.

This soon brings him from the ruined stage to the olive tree under which they had laid Aunt Gwen.