“You failed to arrive early enough to prevent the massacre,” I observed.
“Yes, unfortunately. Through some delay in the transmission of an order to the Spahis, several days were lost, and when, at last, two weeks ago, our squadrons effected a junction, and we stole silently at midnight, holding our scabbards until we came before yonder walls, we found the city in the possession of the Ennitra, those of its people who survived reduced to slavery, and Hadj Absalam installed in state in the palace. Swiftly we descended upon the place. Yells and savage cries rent the midnight silence. The crash of the volleyed firing sounded high above the shrieks for quarter. There was indescribable panic in the city, and although through the night the conflict was desperate and the Ennitra fought with that dogged courage that has always made them conspicuous, yet the havoc wrought by our machine guns appalled them from the first. Gaining the city walls at dawn, we stormed the Fáda, and by noon had captured the place, and nearly four hundred of the Ennitra, including Hadj Absalam and the man known as Labakan, were prisoners in our hands.”
“And what of Zoraida?” I gasped, with sinking heart.
“You mean, I suppose, the woman, known as Daughter of the Sun? She has been, it is said, leader in most of the marauding expeditions, and on that account a reward was offered by the Government for her capture. It was she who, still in her gorgeous harem dress, rushed out at the first alarm, and led her horde of cut-throats to the defence of the city. Armed with knife and pistol, she plunged with indomitable courage, and with an utter disregard for her life, into the thick of the fight, acting as courageously as any of those wild desert pirates whom she led with such extraordinary tact. Once or twice I caught a glimpse of her as she urged on our yelling and bewildered foe. Report had not lied as to her beauty. Her loveliness was entrancing.”
“Where is she now?” I demanded breathlessly.
“I know not, m’sieur,” the man answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“But surely you know if she still lives?”
“The bodies of some women were found,” he answered carelessly. “It is believed hers was amongst them.”
“My God!” I cried brokenly, turning to Octave, who was riding on my left. “It can’t be true—it can’t be!”
“Wait,” he said quietly. “Seek Carmier. Perhaps the truth has been hidden from the men.”