I went down on my knees beside her. “Why did you try to shoot Natalie?” I demanded desperately.
“Why? What else could I do?” She stared at me for the moment. Then a very bitter smile set her face in grim lines. “Kismet!” she murmured.
A moment later her body straightened into a rigid bow and fell limp again. And I could only lean down and close the staring eyes; for she was dead.
After the tribute of a silent regard of the woman I had killed, I turned away, sick at heart over what I had had to do, and sought Natalie. The other girl, I found, had taken Natalie into her arms. Fortunately the latter had been very close to unconsciousness when I set her down and had seen nothing of what had happened.
“Stop here quietly,” I whispered, “I’ll come back for you both!” and with that I jumped down into the water again and waded over to where the Chief was already gathering his men. For here in the banqueting room the battle was over and we had conquered.
“Hurry up, Clayton,” cried the Chief. “We’re waiting for you.”
The firing in the main hall had died out also, and now the place was almost silent, except for the frightened sobbing of some of the girls on the barge and the moaning of our own wounded. No quarter had been asked or given on either side, but we had been able to rescue some of our own men and bind up their wounds.
Some one had found the switch and the lights in the main hall were on full. The place was a shambles. Dead men, in queer, contorted attitudes, their faces pale, sunken and ghastly in the bright light, lay scattered about the walls. The walls themselves were seamed with bright slashes from flying bullets and the naked nymphs still simpered down on us, though their bodies were tattered and torn. The hardwood floor was a welter of blood in streaks and half-congealed pools. The room was not a pretty sight.
We had lost over half our number, a hasty count showing eleven men killed or badly wounded. Most of the others had flesh wounds, although the Chief and I had escaped scot-free. But we had certainly accounted for a much greater number of our enemies. At all events they seemed to have had enough, for the present at any rate. After we had taken stock of our losses, the Chief stepped forward and faced the eight or nine of us left.
“You, Johnson, and you,” he said, “stay here and keep an eye on those girls. Keep the men on the boat where they are. We’ll want them later. The rest of you scatter and clean the place up. Break down the doors and explore the whole house. Let the others in too, as soon as you can find the way out. They must be just outside by now. If you hear me whistle, come back here on the run. But if you can find the head of the gang, take him alive. I want that man.”