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Updated: May 24, 2025
"It is written on your bag." "Well, my missus wrote that " "Moreover," went on Dick, determined to break the ice, "I'm your second mate." "Wot?" roared Stump, leaning forward and placing a hand on each knee, while his fiery glance took in every detail of Royson's appearance. "You my second mate?" The words formed a crescendo of contemptuous analysis. But Dick faced the storm boldly.
But her feet were free, and she deliberately kicked the Arab's ankle, thereby disconcerting his murderous thrust and nearly bringing him to the ground. Then Royson's clenched fist fell like a sledge-hammer on his adversary's skull, and the man collapsed with a broken neck.
Yet he admitted afterwards that Royson's words had diverted him from his fixed Intent to steal off when night fell, and urge Alfieri to pursue the runaways. The Italian needed no urging. Dick advised Mr. Fenshawe to send out two men on horseback in order to locate the Hadendowas.
He must be a wealthy man. Was he the father of that patrician maid whose gratitude had not stood the strain of Royson's gruffness? Or, it might be, her brother, seeing that he was associated with von Kerber in some unusual enterprise? What was it? he wondered. "There may be fighting," said von Kerber. Dick was glad of that.
Stump soon ascertained that the Aphrodite made better weather and faster running as a schooner than as a steamship when the wind suited, and Royson's position on board was rendered all the more secure thereby. For the rest, Dick lived the humdrum life of the ship. Naturally, he saw a good deal of the occupants of the saloon, but the acquaintance did not progress beyond formalities.
The obvious explanation was that "hepta" had been deleted and "pente" substituted in every instance, and the fraud had not been detected because the rest of the Greek writing was absolutely genuine. The hieroglyphs In cartouches, which von Kerber had admittedly tampered with, were beyond Royson's ken.
The version Irene heard was that Royson's camel had fallen lame, and it was deemed safer he should hide until help came, than mount behind Abdur Kad'r and risk the slower journey. Fenshawe reasoned that Royson might be captured, not killed. His long experience of Arab life told him that the tribesmen would be chary of murdering a European, for fear of the vengeance to be exacted later.
As it was, her pent emotions found relief in tears of joy when the messengers brought the news of Royson's approach with the rescue party, and her eyelids were still suspiciously red, her lips somewhat tremulous, when, standing by her grandfather's side, she welcomed his return.
Royson's eyes were good, clearer, in all probability, than the Arab's, but they were not trained to detect moving objects with such minute precision. Nevertheless, in a few seconds he made out the hoods of four men who were peering over the crest which separated the small valley from the larger one.
So Dick Royson's placid temper was again ruffled, and he might have said nasty things about Fate had not that erratic dame suddenly thought, fit to alter his fortunes. As the street narrowed between lofty buildings, so did the blaring thunder of the music increase. The mob closed in on the soldiers' heels; the whole roadway was packed with moving men.
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