Sahanderry lay with palpitating heart, watching the two men, in the desperate hope that a conflict might ensue. Devotedly he prayed that they might come to blows, but after moments of agonizing suspense Ocpic’s eyes dropped before the grim ferocity of Broom’s look. He fell back reluctantly, scowling with rage, and muttering darkly to himself.
The candle was again lit, and this time the flame burned steadily. Broom was satisfied.
Standing aside, he allowed Ocpic to rush from the room, then quietly he walked to the door. Pausing at the doorway he called jeeringly back:
“Good-bye, friend Sahanderry, a quick and pleasant journey!” Then with a burst of sardonic laughter: “I shall now have the charming Kasba all to myself.”
Left to himself Sahanderry lay still and lifeless, for the grim situation had scared him into a condition near to death. But presently the instinct of self-preservation awoke within him. Again he made terrific struggles to loosen his bonds. With frantic yells he strove to make himself heard, although he knew there was no likelihood of anyone being nearer than Delgezie’s hut, and he realized that the sound of his voice would hardly carry beyond the walls around him. Yet in his extremity he found it impossible to keep silent. He persisted in his exertions to free himself, for the issue at stake was his life. His bonds cut deeply into his flesh at every movement and the pain was frightful, but he struggled till he could struggle no more and fell back exhausted, his head dropping to the floor with a dull thud.
As he lay there like a trussed fowl it seemed to him that never did candle burn so quickly. It shortened as if by magic. Soon the flame was flickering over the black powder. Suddenly Sahanderry lifted his head and listened with all his might. There was a sound outside. He gave a hoarse cry for help, then listened again, his heart thumping like a steam-engine. The sound drew nearer. It was a terrible moment. He glanced frantically at the fast expiring candle. Was there yet time? Spending all his remaining strength in one long-drawn-out cry, he fell back to listen. He heard footsteps. They came nearer, they paused, and then slowly went away.
It was Delgezie, who had just arrived. He was alone, Minnihak having left him to visit a trap. Finding no one on the look-out for him, Kasba not at hand to take his bedding, the old man became uneasy; his heart fluttered with vague forebodings. He took a few steps toward the house, paused undecidedly, then suddenly changing his mind, returned to his sled. Hauling off the dogs’ harness with the ease and dexterity which come with custom, the old fellow tied it together mechanically. Then he again approached the house, muttering to himself in his uneasiness. Suddenly there was a blinding flash, a fearful report, then—darkness.
CHAPTER XIV.
GRUESOME DISCOVERIES.
It will be remembered that Kasba was left fleeing in panic terror to her father’s hut; while the boy David, who had been wholly instrumental in effecting her escape, lay on the snow, beaten senseless by an infuriated ruffian’s cowardly blows.
Now Kasba was not composed of the stuff that heroines are made of, and when she found herself free, her natural impulse was to place as great a distance between herself and the scene of danger as she conveniently might. This she contrived to do with the best possible speed, but once safe in her father’s hut and the door secured, her thoughts returned with a shock to David.