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Updated: July 2, 2025
Mohammed Beyd is your only hope," and with this assertion to provide the captive with food for thought, the Arab spurred forward toward the head of the column.
He had conceived it when first the wife of the Englishman had fallen into the hands of Achmet Zek; but while that austere chieftain lived, Mohammed Beyd had not even dared hope for a realization of his imaginings. Now, though, it was different only a despised dog of a Christian stood between himself and possession of the girl.
For a time Werper pretended to be skeptical; but at last permitted himself to be convinced that Mohammed Beyd had indeed killed himself in remorse for the death of the white woman he had, all unknown to his followers, loved so devotedly.
"Leave me or I shall call M. Frecoult." Mohammed Beyd drew back with a scowl. His thin, upper lip curled upward, revealing his smooth, white teeth. "M. Frecoult?" he jeered. "There is no such person. The man's name is Werper. He is a liar, a thief, and a murderer. He killed his captain in the Congo country and fled to the protection of Achmet Zek. He led Achmet Zek to the plunder of your home.
"What have you there?" Werper raised the hood of his burnoose that the fellow might see his face. "This is the body of the woman," he explained. "Mohammed Beyd has asked me to take it into the jungle, for he cannot bear to look upon the face of her whom he loved, and whom necessity compelled him to slay. He suffers greatly he is inconsolable.
The fact that he had brought back with him the woman prisoner who had escaped, added strength to his claims, and Mohammed Beyd soon found himself fraternizing good-naturedly with the very man whom he would have slain without compunction had he discovered him alone in the jungle a half hour before.
"Never was he safer from the sins and dangers of mortality," replied the Belgian. "It is well," said Mohammed Beyd, blowing a little puff of blue smoke straight out before him. Again there was silence for several minutes. "And if he were dead?" asked the Belgian, determined to lead up to the truth, and attempt to bribe Mohammed Beyd into his service.
And as he let his imaginings run riot they aroused within him a bestial jealousy of Mohammed Beyd, and a great fear that the other might encompass his base designs upon the defenseless girl.
It occurred to them that possibly the woman had successfully defended herself against their leader. Werper heard the men approaching. To be apprehended as the slayer of Mohammed Beyd would be equivalent to a sentence of immediate death. The fierce and brutal raiders would tear to pieces a Christian who had dared spill the blood of their leader.
"And if I ride north with you," he asked, "half the jewels and half the ransom of the woman shall be mine?" "Yes," replied Werper. "Good," said Mohammed Beyd. "I go now to give the order for the breaking of camp early on the morrow," and he rose to leave the tent. Werper laid a detaining hand upon his arm. "Wait," he said, "let us determine how many shall accompany us.
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