The Sirdar's Oath Part 11

"My goodness, child! Why, they'd eat you," said Mrs Tarleton.

"Not they." And Hilda laughed again.

"I say, old chap," said Haslam, later, as Raynier lounged into his tent for another "peg" and a final smoke, "that's a strange sort of girl the Tarletons have picked up. Who is she? Do you know?"

"No more than you do."

"Well, there's something dashed uncanny about her. The way she talks-- there's something sort of creepy about it. Eh? And did you ever see such eyes as she's got? Eh?"

"N-no, I don't think I ever did," answered Raynier, slowly and between puffs, but in no wise with the same meaning as Haslam had in his mind.

"I say, she'd make a rum sort of a wife for most fellows, with those rum uncanny ideas of hers. Eh?" And then the speaker stopped rather short, remembering, all of a sudden, that Raynier and the object of his remarks had been getting a bit thick of late. But, then, Raynier was rather a queer chap himself, he reflected. Anyway, he felt a trifle embarra.s.sed, as though he had been putting his foot in it.

"I daresay," answered Raynier, equably. "'Most fellows' are like shot-- a.s.sorted into sizes, and might safely be numbered in the same way." At bottom, however, the remark jarred upon him, and set him wondering for the fiftieth time what insidious fascination the strange personality of Hilda Clive was beginning to set up within his innermost being, and that such was the case he was only beginning to admit, hugging to himself the very secrecy of the thought, and the subtle stimulus it afforded. Yet, what did it all mean? He was not in love with Hilda Clive, but some strange fascination radiated from her. It might be uncanny--as Haslam had said--yet he liked it--nor would he have bartered it for the artless advances of conventional attractions, and of such he was not without experience, for natural and una.s.suming as he const.i.tutionally was, the Political Agent of Mazaran, on the right side of forty, was something of a _parti_, by reason of his position and its emoluments; and when, added to this, he who filled the one and enjoyed the other was in the prime of physical health and strength, why, then, so much the more eligible did that _parti_ become.

Haslam the while had turned in, and was yawning profusely--in fact, could hardly give a coherent answer to any question or remark, wherefore Raynier adjourned to his own tent. But not the slightest inclination was on him to follow Haslam's example. He felt extraordinarily wide awake, wherefore he got out a camp-chair, and, having extinguished the lamp within his tent, lit another cheroot and sat there to enjoy the beauty of the night and think.

It was very still. What little wind there had been had dropped completely. A glow had begun to suffuse the velvety darkness of the star-gemmed sky, and, widening, the black loom of a rocky ridge away beyond the plain became clearly defined, then a rim of fire, and lo!--a broad moon soared majestically upward.

It was beautiful. The white tents lay like blocks of marble in its light, which silvered over the plain and the scant foliage of a few scattered junipers. The crunch, crunch of ruminating camels, and the stamp and snort of a horse, alone broke the stillness, save for the long-drawn howl still heard from time to time over the wilderness afar, where wolves prowled. Dark peaks, in softened outline, stood clear against the sky.

His thoughts ran back to the time of his furlough, to England and what had transpired there. Again and again he congratulated himself that he was free from that bond; how on earth he could ever have entered into it seemed more incomprehensible than ever. And what a long while ago it seemed, and--

What was this? A figure moving in the moonlight, a figure clothed in white draperies. In a brief flash the solution of a midnight marauder-- the first of others--occurred to him, and his hand went to his pistol pocket--this time not empty. But he quickly withdrew it. For as the figure glided swiftly among the tents he knew it--knew it for that of Hilda Clive.

Heavens! What was she doing, what was she bent upon, just as she had risen from bed like this? She was walking, erect and rather swiftly, and now in a straight line; stepping forward, looking neither to the right nor to the left, yet there was something about the gait that was not usual, a something as though she was walking unconsciously. And-- she had left the tents behind her now, and was walking swiftly and straight for the open country. He gazed for a moment, dumbfounded, after the receding form, then, rising, started to follow.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A STRANGE MIDNIGHT RAMBLE.

She was walking in her sleep.

This was the conclusion Raynier instinctively arrived at as he followed stealthily and noiselessly behind; and to his mind the problem occurred as to what he had better do. He had always been under the impression that to awaken a person under such circ.u.mstances was likely to produce an alarming, if not rather a disastrous, shock. But what on earth was to be done? She could not be suffered to walk on like this, Heaven knew where. Should he go back and rouse up Tarleton? But at the pace she was going she would be away and out of sight by the time he had hammered into the understanding of that contentious idiot the urgency of the situation, and this was no sort of country for any woman to go wandering about in at night. There were wolves around, too, for had they not been making themselves heard? and however chary such were of letting themselves be seen if anyone were anxious to get the sights of a rifle upon them, a solitary woman was a different story--and he was cognisant, moreover, of the fact that even the most skulking of wild animals are, strangely enough, far less afraid of the female of the human species.

No, he must follow on after her, and that at once.

But where on earth was she going to lead him? On, on, she pressed, walking swiftly, and although the ground itself was, in places, none of the smoothest, yet, while not seeming to notice the way, she sped over it almost quicker than he did, looking carefully where he was going. It was a weird sort of undertaking. He could see in the moonlight her splendid hair streaming like a mantle about her shoulders, and noted the grace and ease with which she walked. On--ever. They were nearing the edge of the plain--and lo!--there in front of them rose the mountain which was cleft by the great _tangi_--the haunted _tangi_, equally feared seemingly by the enlightened and highly-educated Europeans who were his fellow-travellers as by the superst.i.tious natives of the land.

Straight for this the unconscious pedestrian was heading. What strange influence was drawing her thither, thought he who followed: and for the first time something of the superst.i.tious shrinking which caused them to shun the place began to creep over him. He glanced over his shoulder with some faint hope that others might have discovered the girl's absence and be following, but no. All was dead and silent. Nothing moved in the silvery moonlight.

And now in front rose the great rock portal--and on, ever on, kept the white and gliding figure before him. He saw it stand forth whiter than ever against the gloom of the entrance, then disappear, swallowed within the cavernous blackness of the great chasm.

Would the sudden change both of light and atmosphere awaken her? Would she come rus.h.i.+ng forth wild with terror, instinctively making for the light? For a moment he waited in case this should be so--then plunged within the darkness of the place.

Raynier felt that here her wandering would end. Some strange psychological wave, acting with their experience of the day before, stimulated by the subject of their conversation that evening, had moved her to rise in her sleep and come hither. But to what end? There was something uncanny about her, Haslam had remarked, but Raynier was conscious of a very lively sense of thankfulness that he had been awake, and thus ready to follow and watch over her on this eerie and far from safe adventure upon which she had all unconsciously embarked.

The light from without hardly penetrating here, Raynier found himself slipping and stumbling in the gloom, yet, with it all, his quick ears could hear the footsteps in front moving easily and firmly without trip or stumble. It was marvellous--nor did the noise he made on the rattling stones seem in any way to disturb her whom he followed.

Now it grew light again in front. The white figure had reached the point where the rock walls widened out, and--had halted. The moon, immediately overhead now, darted down its light right into the chasm.

Should he go forward and gently awaken her, if indeed she were not already awake? Surely she must be, for now she turned slowly round and faced him. He could see her great eyes, wide open and stamped with a wondering look; then, as he was about to advance and address her, she turned again and moved slowly onward.

And then a sound struck upon Raynier's ears which caused every drop of blood within him to freeze, and well it might, for well he knew that sawing, grating cough drawing nearer. A panther was coming up the _tangi_. Heavens, and the girl was between it and him.

Then the brute appeared--and with it a cub. Raynier knew with what deadly peril the situation was now fraught, for a revolver, save in the hand of a thorough expert, is an uncertain weapon, especially in an indifferent light. At sight of them the brute stopped, then crouched, uttering a hideous, purring snarl. In that second of time the scene was photographed upon his mind; the ghostly moonlight glinting down between the great rock walls, the spotted, sinuous shape of the savage beast, every muscle quivering as it crouched there ready for its spring, its tail softly waving to and fro, and the white gliding figure advancing straight upon it; straight upon destruction in the most horrible of forms. Yes, in a flash the whole scene was before him as, pointing the pistol past her, he steadied his nerves to take the best possible aim.

But--what was this? Instead of edging forward preparatory to making its fatal rush, as he had often seen a cat do when stealing upon a bird or mouse, the brute was stealthily backing. Was it fear of the strange sight that was actuating the beast? Was there indeed some latent magnetic force about those wide open eyes? For the gliding white figure advanced unwaveringly, and as it did so the crouching brute shrank back more and more--now in unmistakable alarm. Then suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hing up its cub in its mouth, it turned and bounded away beyond the elbow of rock wall round which it had first appeared.

Every nerve in the spectator's being thrilled to the revulsion produced by this sudden removal of the awful tension of those few moments. At all risks he must awaken her and take her back to the camp. But as he advanced to do this, she halted again, turned round, pa.s.sed a hand over her brow and face, looked upward at the great cliffs, then down again at him. Then she spoke,--

"So we are here together again."

That was all. Her tone was even, placid, and evinced no astonishment whatever, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to get up in the middle of the night, and take a moonlight stroll away over a particularly wild, and, as the recent incident showed, somewhat dangerous country, or to wake to consciousness in the heart of a vast rock chasm of awe-inspiring and savage grandeur and enjoying an eerie reputation. To her listener this was well-nigh the most astounding part of the whole adventure. Was she conscious? was his first thought.

Again she pa.s.sed a hand over her brow, and her great eyes rested calmly upon his face.

"Now I remember," she said, in the same even tones. "Something threatened me--there, just now," looking toward the spot where the panther had crouched. "It was an animal--a panther. But--it went," she added, with a slight smile.

"That it certainly did," rejoined Raynier, "and thank Heaven it did. Do you know that that was about the tightest situation I have ever heard or read of--a panther with a cub--with a cub, mind, for in that lay nearly the whole of the peril--coming along this narrow tube where there's no possible means of getting out of its way--and you walking straight into its jaws. And this, under the circ.u.mstances, is a precious unreliable weapon," showing the revolver he still held in his hand. "You or both of us might have been horribly mauled before it even began to take effect."

"So we might. But I had a better plan with it, don't you think so?

Anyhow, the thing got in my way, and--it had to get out of it."

The same cool tone, the same confident, but rather captivating smile.

Two subjects of wonderment were at that moment crowding Herbert Raynier's mind to the exclusion of all others. What was there about this girl--what magnetic compelling power had enabled her, by the sheer, unflinching fearlessness of her presence, to put to flight what, under the circ.u.mstances--the narrowness of the place to wit, the suddenness of the encounter, and, above all, the cub--was one of the most dangerous and formidable of wild beasts? This was one. The other was, how on earth he could ever have pa.s.sed her by as being without attractiveness, and that not once, but day after day. Here, standing before him in the moonlight, looking tall in her loose white wrapper--for her strange excursion had not been so impromptu as he at first supposed--her splendid hair flowing in ma.s.ses over her shoulders, her great eyes smiling upon him with something of the compelling force which had given her power over the brute, he decided that she was scarcely, if anything, short of beautiful. And then the somewhat uncommon circ.u.mstances of this interview came back upon him.

"What made you come here?" he said, the lameness of the remark striking him even while he uttered the words.

"The very question I was going to ask you."

"Well, the answer to that should be obvious," he said. "I saw you start out, and thought you were walking in your sleep--and I need hardly remind you that this is not an over-safe part of the world for that kind of exercise."

"And you came to take care of me? That was very sweet of you."

"If I had gone back to wake up Tarleton, you might have got to Heaven knows where by the time he was under way," went on Raynier, conscious that her tone and manner had become insidiously alluring. Was he going to drift into the common idiocy? he thought, with something of dismay.

"You might have altered your course and got right away from us. Then, when I did come up with you I didn't like to wake you, because I thought it might give you a shock of sorts."

"But I was not asleep--at least, I don't think I was."

Raynier stared.

"Not asleep? But you won't mind my saying that that is--er--rather an unusual kind of walking attire."

She laughed, glancing at her wrapper.