THE JOY OF TEMPTATION
The revolting details were kept from the women. They were not permitted to know of the ugly thing that sweltered in the dark corridor below their very feet. Late in the night, a small body of men, acting under orders, carried the unfortunate guard down into the valley and buried him. Only the most positive stand on the part of the white men prevented the massacre of the prisoners by the friends and fellow-servants of the murdered man. A secret trial by jury, at a later day, was promised by Lord Deppingham.
There was but little sleep in the château that night. The charity ball was forgotten—or if recalled at all, only in connection with the thought of what it came so near to costing its promoters.
No further disturbances occurred. A strict watch was preserved; the picturesque drawbridge was lifted and there were lights on the terrace and galleries; men slept within easy reach of their weapons. The siege had begun in earnest. Men had been slain and their blood was crying out for vengeance; the voice of justice was lost in the clamourings of rage.
Breakfast found no laggards; the lazy comforts of the habitually late were abandoned for the more stirring interests that had come to occupy the time and thoughts of all concerned. The Princess was quite serene. She lightly announced that the present state of affairs was no worse than that which she was accustomed to at home. The court of Rapp-Thorberg was ever in a state of unrest, despite its outward suggestion of security. Outbreaks were common among the masses; somehow, they were suppressed before they grew large enough to be noticed by the wide world.
"We invariably come out on top," she philosophised, "and so shall we here. At home we always eat, drink and make merry, for to-morrow never comes."
"That's all very nice," said Lady Agnes plaintively, "but I'm thinking of yesterday. Those fellows who were killed can't die to-morrow, you know; it occurred to them yesterday. It's always yesterday after one dies."
Soon after breakfast was over, Chase announced his intention to visit each of the gates in turn. The Princess strolled with him as far as the bridge at the foot of the terrace. They stopped in the shade of a clump of trees that hung upon the edge of the stream. As they were gravely discussing the events of the night, Neenah came up to them from beyond the bridge. Her dark, brilliant face was glowing with excitement; the cheerful adoration that one sees in a dog's eyes shone in hers as she salaamed gracefully to the "Sahib." She had no eyes for royalty.
"Excellency," she began breathlessly, "it is Selim who would have private speech with the most gracious sahib. It is to be quick, excellency. Selim is under the ground, excellency."
"In the cellars?"
"Yes, excellency. It is so dark there that one cannot see, but Neenah will lead you. Selim has sent me. But come now!"
Chase felt his ears burn when he turned to find a delicate, significant smile on Genevra's lips. "Don't let me detain you," she said, ever so politely.
"Wait, please!" he exclaimed. "Is Selim hurt?" he demanded of Neenah, who shook her head vigorously.
"Then, there is no reason why you should not accompany us. Princess."
"I am not at all necessary to the undertaking," she said coldly, turning to leave him.
"Selim has found fuses and gunpowder laid in the cellars, excellency—in the secret vaults," began Neenah eagerly, divining the cause of the white lady's hesitation.
This astounding piece of news swept away the feeble barrier Genevra would have erected in her pique. Eagerly she joined in questioning the Persian girl, but Neenah would only reply that Selim was waiting for the sahib. The Princess was immeasurably consoled to find that the body-servant had destroyed the fuses and that they were in no immediate danger of being blown to pieces. She consented to accompany Chase into the cellars, a spirit of adventure overcoming certain scruples which might have restrained her under other conditions.
Neenah led them through the wine cellars and down into the vaults beyond the dungeons. They descended three steep flights of stone steps, into the cold, damp corridors of the lowermost cellars. Neenah explained that it was necessary to move cautiously and without lights. Selim was confident that there was at least one traitor among the servants. The Princess clutched Chase's hand tightly as they stole through the bleak, chill corridor; she found herself wondering if the girl was to be trusted. What if she were leading them into a trap? She would have whispered her fears into Chase's ear had not a sharp "sh!" come from the girl who was leading. Genevra felt a queer little throb of hatred for the girl—she could not explain it.
The dungeon was off to the right. They could hear the insistent murmur of voices, with now and then a laugh from the distant cells. The guard could be heard scoffing at his charges. With a caution that seemed wholly absurd to the two white people, Neenah guided them through the maze of narrow passages, dark as Erebus and chill as the grave. Chase checked a hysterical impulse to laugh aloud at the proceedings; it was like playing at a children's game.
He was walking between the two women, Neenah ahead, Genevra behind; each clasped one of his hands. Suddenly he found himself experiencing an overpowering desire to exert the strength of his arm to draw the Princess close—close to his insistent body. The touch of her flesh, the clutch of her cold little hand, filled him with the most exquisite sense of possession; the magnetism of life charged from one to the other, striking fire to the blood; sex tingled in this delicious riot of the senses; all went to inspire and encourage the reckless joy that was mastering him. He felt his arm grow taut with the irresistible impulse. He was forgetting Neenah, forgetting himself—thinking only of the opportunity and its fascination. In another instant he would have drawn her hand to his lips: Neenah came to a standstill and uttered a warning whisper. Chase recovered himself with a mighty start, a chill as of one avoiding an unseen peril sweeping over him. Genevra heard the sharp, painful intake of his breath and felt the sudden relaxation of his fingers. She was not puzzled; she, too, had felt the magic of the touch and her blood was surging red; she knew, then, that she had been clasping his hand with a fervour that was as unmistakable as it was shameless.
She was again forgetting that princesses should dwell in the narrow realm of self.
Neenah may have felt the magnetic current that coursed through these surcharged creatures: she was smiling mysteriously to herself.
"Wait here," she whispered to Chase, ever so softly. She released his hand and moved off in the blackness of the passage. "I will bring Selim," came back to them.
"Oh!" fell faintly, tremulously from Genevra's lips. It was a trap, after all! But it was not the trap laid by a traitor. She fell all a-quiver. Her heart fluttered violently, her breath came quickly. Alone with him—and their blood leaping to the touch that thrilled!
Chase could no more have restrained the hand that went out suddenly in quest of hers than he could have checked his own heart throbs. A wave of exquisite joy swept over him—the joy of a temptation that knew no fear or conscience. He found her cold little hand and clasped it in tense fingers—fingers that throbbed with the call to passion. He drew her close—their bodies touched and sweetly trembled. His lips were close to her ear—the smell of her hair was in his quivering nostrils. He heard her quick, sharp breathing.
"Are you afraid?" he whispered in tones he had never heard before.
"Yes," she murmured convulsively—"of you! Please, please, don't!" At the same time, she tightened her clutch upon his hand and crept closer to him, governed by an unconquerable craving. Chase had the sensation of smothering; he could not believe the senses which told him that she was responding to his appeal. His brain was whirling, his heart bounding like mad. Her voice, soft and appealing, turned his blood to fire.
"Genevra!" he murmured—almost gasped—in his delirium. Their bodies were pressed close to each other—his arms went about her slender figure suddenly and she was strained to his breast, locked to him with bonds that seemed unbreakable. Her face was lifted to his. The blackness of the passage was impenetrable, but love was the guide. He found her lips in one wild, glorious kiss.
A door creaked sharply. He released her. Their quivering arms fell away; they drew ever so slightly apart, still under the control of the influence which had held them for that brief moment. She was trembling violently. A soft, wailing sigh, as of pain, came from her lips.
Then the glimmer of a light came to them through the half open door at the end of the passage. They gazed at it without comprehension, dumb in their sudden weakness. A shadowy figure came out through the door and Selim's voice, low and tense, called to them.
Still speechless, they moved forward involuntarily. He did not attempt to take her hand. He was afraid—vastly afraid of what he had done, unaccountable as it may seem. That piteous sigh wrought shame in his heart. He felt that he had wronged her—had seized upon a willing, hapless victim when she had not the power to defend herself against her own impulses.
"Forgive me," he murmured.
"It is too late," she replied. Then his hand sought hers again and, dizzy with emotion, he led her up to the open door. As they passed into the huge, dimly lighted chamber, he turned to look into her face. She met his gaze and there were tears in her eyes. Selim was ahead of them. She shook her head sadly and he understood.
"Can we ever forget?" she murmured plaintively.
"Never!" he whispered.
"Then we shall always regret—always regret!" she said, withdrawing her hand. "It was the beginning and the end."
"Not the end, dearest one—if we are always to regret," he interposed eagerly. "But why the end? You do love me! I know it! And I worship you—oh, you don't know how I worship you, Genevra! I—"
"Hush! We were fools! Don't, please! I do not love you. I was carried away by—Oh, can't you understand? Remember what I am! You knew and yet have degraded me in my own eyes. Is my own self-respect nothing? You will laugh and you may boast after I am married to—"
"Genevra!" he protested as if in great pain.
"Excellency," came from the lips of Selim, at the lower end of the chamber, breaking in sharply upon their little world. "There is no time to be lost." Time to be lost! And he had held her in his arms! Time to be lost! All the rest of Time was to be lost! "They may return at any moment."
Chase pulled himself together. He looked into her eyes for a moment, finding nothing there but a command to go. She stood straight and unyielding on the very spot which had seen her trembling with emotion but a moment before.
"Coming, Selim," he said, and moved away from her side as Neenah came toward them from the opposite wall. Genevra did not move. She stood quite still and numb, watching his tall figure crossing the stone floor. Ah, what a man he was! The little Persian wife of Selim, after waiting for a full minute, gently touched the arm of the Princess. Genevra started and looked down into the dark, accusing, smiling eyes. She flushed deeply and hated herself.
"Shall we go back?" she asked nervously. "I—I have seen enough. Come, Neenah. Lead me back to—"
"Most glorious excellency," said Neenah, shaking her pretty head, "we are to wait here. The sahib and Selim will join us soon."
"Where are they going?" demanded the Princess, a feeling of awe coming over her. "I don't want to be left here alone." Chase and Selim had opened a low, heavy iron door at the lower end and were peering into the darkness beyond.
"Selim will explain. He has learned much. It is the secret passage to the coast. Be not afraid."
Genevra looked about her for the first time. They were standing in a long, low room, the walls of which reeked with dampness and gave out a noxious odour. A single electric light provided a faint, almost unnatural light. Selim raised a lighted lantern as he led Chase through the squat door. Behind Genevra were enormous casks, a dozen or more, reaching almost to the ceiling. A number of boxes stood close by, while on the opposite side of the chamber four small iron chests were to be seen, dragged out from recesses in the distant corner. It was not unlike the mysterious treasure cave of the pirates that her brother had stealthily read about to her in childhood days. Observing her look of wonder, Neenah vouchsafed a casual explanation.
"It is the wine cellar and the storeroom. The iron chests contain the silver and gold plate that came from the great Rajah of Murpat in exchange for the five huge rubies which now adorn his crown. The Rajah bartered his entire service of gold and silver for those wonderful gems. The old sahibs stored the chests here many years ago. But few know of their existence. See! They were hidden in the walls over there. Von Blitz has found them."
"Von Blitz!" in amazement.
"He has been here. He has carried away many chests. There were twenty in all."
"And—and he will return for these?" queried the Princess in alarm.
"Assuredly, most glorious one. Soon, perhaps. But be not afraid. Selim can close the passage door. He cannot get in. He will be fooled, eh? Why should you be afraid? Have you not with you the most wonderful, the most brave sahib? Would he not give his life for you?" The dark eyes sparkled with understanding—aye, even mischief. Genevra felt that this Oriental witch knew everything. For a long time she looked in uncertain mood upon that smiling, wistful face. Then she said softly, moved by an irresistible impulse to confess something, even obscurely:
"Oh, if only I were such as you, Neenah, and could live forever on this dear island!"
Neenah's smile deepened, her eyes glowed with discernment. With a meaning gleam in their depths, she said: "But, most high, there are no princes here. There is no one to whom the most gracious one could be sold. No one who could pay more than a dozen rubies. Women are cheap here, and you would be a woman, not a most beautiful princess."
"I would not care to be a princess, perhaps."
"You love my Sahib Chase?" demanded Neenah abruptly, eagerly.
"Neenah!" gasped Genevra, with a startled look. Neenah looked intently into the unsteady, blue-grey eyes and then bent over to kiss the hand of the Princess. The latter laughed almost aloud in her confusion. She caught herself up quickly and said with some asperity: "You foolish child, I am to become a prince's wife. How can I love your sahib? What nonsense! I am to marry a prince and he is not to pay for me in rubies."
"Ah, how wonderful!" cried Neenah, with ravishing candour. "A prince for a husband and the glorious Sahib Chase for a lover all your life! Ah!" The exclamation was no less than a sigh of rapturous endorsement.
The Princess stared at her first in consternation, then in dismay. Before she could find words to combat this alarming prophecy, so ingenuously presented to her reflections, Selim and Hollingsworth Chase returned to the chamber. She was distressed, even confounded, to find that she was staring at Chase with a strange, abashed curiosity growing in her eyes—a stare that she suddenly was afraid he might observe and appreciate. A wave of revulsion, of shame, spread over her whole being. She shuddered slightly as she turned her face away from his eager gaze: it was as if she recognised the fear that he was even now contemplating the future as Neenah had painted it for her.
She caught and checked a horrid arraignment of herself. Such conditions as Neenah presented were not unknown to her. With the swiftness of lightning, she recalled the things that had been said of more than one grand dame in Europe—aye, of women at her own court. Even a princess she had known who—but for shame! she cried in her heart. It could not be! Despite herself, a cruel, distressing shyness came over her as he approached, his eyes glowing with the light she feared yet craved. Was this man to remain in her life? Was he? Would he come to her and wage the unfair war? Was he honest? Was he even now coveting her as other men had coveted the women she knew and despised? She found herself confronted by the shocking conviction that he knew she could never be his wife. He knew she was to wed another, and yet—It was unbelievable!
She met his eager advance with a quick, shrill laugh of defiance, and noted the surprise in his eyes. Dim as the light was, she could have sworn that the look in those eyes was honest. Ah, that silly Neenah! The reaction was as sudden as the revolt had been. Her smile grew warm and shy.
"Von Blitz has been here," he was saying, half diffidently, still searching deep in her eyes. "He's played hob. And he's likely to return at any minute."
"Then let us go quickly. I have no desire to meet the objectionable Mr. Von Blitz. Isn't it dreadfully dangerous here, Mr. Chase?" He mistook the slight tremour in her voice for that of fear. A quaint look came into his face, the lines about the corners of his mouth drooping dolefully.
"Mr. Chase?" he said, with his winning smile. "Now?"
"Yes, now and always, Mr. Chase," she said steadily. "You know that it cannot be otherwise. I can't always be a fool."
His face turned a deep red; his lips parted for retort to this truculent estimate, but he controlled himself.
"Yes, it is dangerous here," he said quietly, answering her question. "As soon as Selim bars that door upon the inside, we'll go. I was a fool to bring you here."
"How could you know what the dangers would be?" she asked.
"I'll confess I didn't expect Von Blitz," he said drily.
"But you did expect—" she began, with a start, biting her lips.
"There's a vast difference between expectation and hope, Princess." Neenah had joined Selim at the door when the men re-entered the chamber. Now she was approaching with her husband.
"May Allah bless you and profit for Himself, excellencies," said the good Selim. Neenah plainly had advanced her suspicions to the brown body-servant. Genevra blushed and then her eyes blazed. She gave the girl a scornful look; Neenah smiled happily, unreservedly in return.
"Allah help us, you should say, if Von Blitz returns," interposed Chase hastily. "Is the door barred?"
"No, excellency. The bars have sprung, I cannot drop them in place. As you know, the lock has been blown away. The charge sprung the bolts. We must go at once."
"Then there is no way to keep them out of the château?" cried Genevra anxiously.
"They can go no farther than this room," explained Selim. "We lock the double iron doors from the other side—the door through which you came, most glorious excellency—and they cannot enter the cellars above. This is the chamber which opens into the underground passage to the coast. The passage was made for escape from the château in case of trouble and was known to but few. My father was the servant of Sahib Wyckholme, and I used to live in the château. We came to the island when I was a baby. My father had been with the sahib in Africa. I came to know of this passage, for my father and my mother were to go with the masters if there was an attack. Five years ago I was given a place in the company's office, and I never came up here after my parents died of the plague. We were—"
"The plague!" cried the Princess.
"It was said to have been the plague," said Selim bitterly. "They died in great convulsions while spending the night in the Khan. That's the inn of Aratat, excellencies. The great sahibs sent their stomachs away to be examined—"
"Never mind, Selim," said Chase. "Tell us about the passage there."
"Once there was a boat—a launch, which lay hidden below the cliffs on the north coast. The passage led to this boat. It was always ready to put out to sea. But one night it was destroyed by the great rocks which fell from the cliffs in an earthquake. When I came here, I at once thought of the passage. You will see that the doors into the cellar cannot be opened from this chamber; the locks and bolts are on the other side. I knew where the keys were hidden. It was easy to unlock the doors and come into this room. I found that some one had been here before me. The door to the passage had been forced open from without—cracked by dynamite. Many of the treasure boxes have been removed. Von Blitz was here not an hour ago. He wears boots. I saw the footprints among the naked ones in the passage. They will come back for the other chests. Then they will blow up the passage way with powder and escape from the château through it will be cut off. I have found the kegs of powder in the passage and have destroyed the fuses. It will be of no avail, sahib. They will blow it up at the other end, which will be just the same."
"There's no time to be lost," cried Chase. "We must bring enough men down here to capture them when they return—shoot 'em if necessary. Come on! We can surprise them if we hurry."
They were starting across the chamber toward the door, when a gruff, sepulchral oath came rolling up to the chamber through the secret passage. Quick as a flash Selim, who realised that they could not reach and open the door leading to the stairs, turned in among the huge wine casks, first blinding his lantern. He whispered for the others to follow. In a moment they were squeezing themselves through the narrow spaces between the dark, strong-smelling casks, back into a darkness so opaque that it seemed lifeless. Selim halted them in a recess near the wall and there they huddled, breathlessly awaiting the approach of the invaders.
"They won't suspect that we are here," whispered Selim as the door to the passage creaked. "Keep quiet! Don't breathe!"
The single electric light was still burning, as Selim had found it when he first came. The door swung open slowly, heavily, and Jacob von Blitz, half naked, mud-covered, reeking with perspiration, and panting savagely, stepped into the light. Behind him came a man with a lantern, and behind him two others.
They were white men, all. Von Blitz turned suddenly and cursed the man with the lantern. The fellow was ready to drop with exhaustion. Evidently it had been no easy task to remove the chests.