"Indeed I am sorry for you," he said. "Yet I must urge you to go. We have not a moment to lose."
"To lose? What else can happen?"
"The night is coming. We cannot leave the bodies here. It would be too horrible."
"Ah," she sighed, "there is no horror to equal mine. I have the blood of three men on my soul."
She suffered him to lead her away. He tried to console her by throwing all the responsibility on to the Italian. But he felt that this palsied woman scarce listened to his words. He was almost glad to leave her alone with her mournful thoughts. In active work he could find distraction from the sad influences of this fatal treasure-hunt. There were still many things he did not comprehend, but he resolutely dismissed all self-communing. Perhaps, when the first paroxysm of woe had exhausted itself, Mrs. Haxton might explain; meanwhile, he must endeavor to hide the chief features of the tragedy ere Irene arrived.
When he moved Alfieri's body is order to examine his clothing, he saw that the man's coat was torn at the breast, the cloth having caught a jagged rock as its wearer fell from the saddle. Through this rent a pocketbook and some papers had slipped out. They were resting on a little sand drift at the base of the rock that had caused the damage. The pocketbook was open. Some of the sand had entered its compartments. And, in one of them, were the papyrus leaves found in the tomb of Demetriades, the Greek, whose mortal eyes were the last that had gazed on the treasure of Sheba! In truth, here was one of the world's dramas, with its scenes divided by two thousand years, yet the parched desert was content to wait there placidly, in sure and certain knowledge that the curtain would rise again on that grim play, whether the years were few or many between the acts. How little changed was the stage. But what of the actors? Did the modern troupe differ so greatly from the two-thousand-year-old cast—the merchant in ivory and skins who quitted his quiet business at Alexandria to seek adventure and gold, the Romans who went to kill and plunder an inoffensive people, the Nubians who waylaid them, and left their bones to bleach? Assuredly, looking at the dozen or more dead bodies stretched in a row at his feet, Royson deemed mankind as unchangeable as the desert.
* * * * *
At two o'clock, when the stars and a new moon were dimly lighting the circle of hills, an Arab vedette reported the approach of a large kafila from the west. Soon the jingle of accouterments and the cries of camels who scented the oasis heralded the arrival of the main body. When Dick lifted a weary Irene from the saddle he made no pretense of shyness, but kissed her quite heartily.
Yet Dick's tidings caused grave faces in the small circle round the camp-fire. Mr. Fenshawe, as responsible leader of the expedition, felt the weight of this added burthen of death. There was no gainsaying the fact that he had been dragged into an unlawful enterprise. He was in Italian territory against the will of the authorities. Though he and those under his control were guiltless of actual wrong-doing, it was exceedingly unfortunate that Alfieri had not lived to make a deposition. The treasure-seekers must now depend on the testimony of the wounded Hadendowas, four of whom had surrendered voluntarily, for the one great principle which the East has learnt from the West is that Europeans usually show humanity to a disabled foe. Abdullah, too, assured the millionaire that the Italian officer who accompanied Alfieri from Massowah warned the latter against any act of violence, and would have restrained him from undertaking an apparently useless search if the instructions received from Rome had not directed that "every assistance was to be given to Signor Giuseppe Alfieri."
There could be no manner of doubt that the Italian had begun an unprovoked attack on the smaller kafila. His only messengers were bullets, and the orders he issued to the Hadendowas were definite. The whole party was to be exterminated, with the exception of Mrs. Haxton, who was to be taken alive if possible. Again, there was direct evidence of his duplicity with regard to the meeting arranged for that morning. Fenshawe's friendly letter was found among his papers, so he had hurried from his camp on the Suleiman's Well route with the deliberate intention of wiping out of existence the man who was his sworn enemy. Still, the affair wore an ugly look, and tired though he was, Fenshawe had no thought of rest until the contradictory elements of a most perplexing business were sifted.