The Lives of Harry Lime v1.0

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The Lives of Harry Lime v1.0 Page 15

by Unknown Author


  A little farther on, Armand D’Aronj lay in the darkness. He turned on his side to look at us as we entered. Dim moonlight revealed his shirt-front dark with blood. He motioned me over beside him.

  ‘I have taken a desperate choice.’ he gasped with difficulty. ‘But I have no other. If you love my granddaughter, you will aid to…to obtain her safety?’

  ‘How?’ I asked. It seemed a reasonable question in the circumstances.

  He held out his hand and I could see that there was a parchment in it. ’The map of the treasure!’ he exclaimed.

  So it was true.

  ’Only the smaller part remains.’ he went on. ‘But, if you love Valerie, you can buy her life with it—and yours. You are clever, Lime! You can bargain with Sikkeena. Save Valerie from those swine!’

  I was looking at the map. ’These symbols…I don’t understand…’

  He interrupted me: ‘I will tell you their meaning. But first, swear on your hope of eternal salvation, that you will keep faith! ’

  I did as he asked.

  ‘Listen, lean closer.’ he went’ on, ‘I will show you how to find the cave of the Corsairs…’

  When D’Aronj had finished, I put the parchment in my pocket and tried to make the old man comfortable. But his body had gone limp and when I spoke there was no answer. The master of Barbarossa was dead.

  There was a sudden fusillade of shots. Then I heard Valerie’s voice crying: ‘Harry, come here, Ali is wounded.’

  The big Sudanese was gasping with pain: ‘M’sieu, load my gun! Quickly! They come! ’

  I stood up on the edge of the parapet. ‘Mario! Mario! I shouted. ’Tell your boss to stop shooting. I’ve got everything under control!’

  ‘Harry!’ exclaimed Valerie.

  But I had forgotten Ali, the big Sudanese, was dying as he brought his rifle-butt against the back of my skull. All the same, it was a blow that knocked me colder than a witch’s kiss.

  When I came to, the brightness of day hurt my eyes, and I closed them again, quick. The world rocked beneath me. It took me a moment or two to realise that I was tied hand and foot, draped across the back of a camel. The smell of salt aid was mixed with the smell of camel, and I saw the dark blue of the Mediterranean curving to the left.

  The Bedouins halted and dismounted. My wrists and ankles were unbound, and I was led to the head of the column. Mario Marteau stood there, and beside him, Valerie D’Aronj.

  I asked him why I had been tied up. After all, I had kept my part of the bargain.

  ‘And I…I once thought you were a man…that I loved you.’ Valerie spoke with loathing, but it was not the time to worry about her.

  A few yards away some men were digging. Mario noticed me watching them. He smiled, and remarked: ‘A hole! For you, Harry! ‘

  ‘But why? Where’s El Sikkeena? Where is he? Bring me to him! ’

  ‘And you’re supposed to be so clever,’ chuckled Mario.

  So he was El Sikkeena. I ought to have guessed that a long time ago.

  My hand flew to my pocket. The map had gone. But I still had one trump card left.

  Valerie was saying, ‘I told you, I do not know about the code. And if I did, I’d die before I’d tell you!’

  ‘I’ll tell you for a price,’ I offered.

  ‘Price?’

  ‘Set Mademoiselle D’Aronj and myself free in Algiers.’

  ’Is this one of your little tricks?’ he asked.

  I assured him that it was not. He thought for a few moments. Then he said: ‘I will set you both free after we find the treasure, not before.’ And I had to be content with that.

  We followed the broken coastline and, later that day, as the sky grew grey and dust-devils danced, we reached the place. An old Bedouin remained with Valerie on the beach as I led them into a narrow break in the rocks—a break that widened into a great cavern. Their flashlight beams danced about and picked out a number of copper chests, green with age and corrosion! We’d found it—the Cave of the Corsairs!

  ’They are empty!’ exclaimed Mario.

  ‘D’Aronj must have taken most of it; but here’s one chest, Mario! Filled to the top with gold dust! Look!’

  Over to the corner the rest of the gang were bending over some flasks. ‘Look, Mario, sacramental wine, in sealed flagons.’ I said. ‘Wine taken off the galley. I’ve kept my word, have I not? Don’t you think I should get a small share?’

  His only reply was to call one of the bandits to him…‘Hassan, take this dog out. Stand guard over him and the woman! ’

  We huddled on the beach in the lee of a sheltering rock, Valerie, our guards, and I. The mounting surf crashed on the narrow beach. Our guard stared enviously at the revelry in and about the cave.

  I edged closer to the girl.

  ‘Keep away!’ she said sharply.

  I kept my voice low. ’Two of our guards are leaving—headed for the cave,’ I told her. The others are staggering around, lying about in the sand. If they all drink enough…’

  I broke off and looked at the entrance of the cave. Four men were bringing the chest of gold dust out.

  ’They’re reeling,’ I muttered. ’They don’t know where they’re going. They’re drunk. Hey, guard! Call Mario! Get them back! ’

  For the four men were walking straight into the sea!

  ‘Your thirty pieces of gold are gone, Judas!’ cried Valerie with delight.

  Yes, they were gone, taken by the sea. The men were rolling over and over in the breakers. The chest was upside down. The yellow dust was all swallowed up.

  Slow, heavy footsteps came up behind us. It was Mario.

  ‘You…You, Lime…’ he spat at me.

  ‘Mario—Mario, no! What’s the matter? Don’t shoot!’ I cried.

  ‘I…I should have known it was a trick…I kill…’

  But Mario Mareau collapsed, his pistol falling from his hand as he fell. I turned to Valerie.

  ‘Look at them,’ I said, ‘all of them, the whole gang, lying around.’

  She asked what I was going to do.

  ’Take you back to Algiers.’

  ’Then let us go! These swine won’t sleep for ever.’

  I laughed. ‘Relax, sweetheart. They will.’

  She looked at me in bewilderment.

  ‘Your grandfather put that wine there himself,’ I explained. ‘He told me so before he died.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It was for the refreshment of all who might come upon the treasure in his absence. A fine old vintage…loaded with poison!’

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