The Veiled Man

by William Le Queux

engaged Spahis and Zouaveshand-to-hand. So strong was our force that soon we overwhelmed them,and commenced loud cries of triumph as we dashed up towards the Kasbah.Suddenly, however, as we approached it we saw that its walls literallyswarmed with French soldiers who, at word of command, fired a witheringvolley from their rifles which caused us to hold back dismayed.

  Colonel Bonnemain had evidently received reinforcements. With theirfirearms they were more than a match for us.

  "Courage, brothers!" I heard Tamahu cry as he brandished his spear."Let us show these dogs of infidels that the Touaregs are no cowards.Of a verity the Roumis shall never be our masters."

  With set teeth we sprang forward towards the high sun-blanched walls ofthe citadel, determined to take it by assault, but alas! its battlementswere full of well-armed Spahis and Turcos, and from every point showersof lead swept down upon us. Still we kept on undaunted. Once I caughta momentary glimpse of Colonel Bonnemain. He was standing upon the wallbareheaded, shouting and waving his sword. But only for an instant. Hedisappeared, and was seen no more.

  Almost at the same instant a loud incessant spitting of guns deafenedus; bullets swept through our ranks in deadly hail, killing us by dozensand maiming hundreds. Then, dismayed, I saw mounted on the wall astrange-looking weapon, which once charged shed rifle-balls in hundreds.Death seemed inevitable. My companions, appalled by the sight of thatterrible engine of destruction, wavered for an instant, then, with a crythat Eblis was assisting the infidels, turned and fled.

  Above the din of battle Tamahu shouted himself hoarse. But darknesshaving now fallen, none could discern him amid the dense smoke andconstant flashing of the guns. Thus the defenders drove us back,sweeping us away with their deadly machine-gun, and, making a sortiefrom the fortress, bayonetted the more valiant ones.

  Our cause seemed lost. As soon, however, as we had drawn the Spahisoutside their fort, we turned, and re-engaging them hand-to-hand,quickly hacked our way back to the very gates of the Kasbah, the streetsin the vicinity being heaped with dead and dying. Suddenly, however, atthe moment when we were relinquishing our hope as a forlorn one, loudshouts, followed by the beating of tam-tams, gave us renewed courage.From mouth to mouth the glad tidings were repeated. The Beni-Mzabs, oneof the most powerful tribes on the desert border, had come up, and beingour allies, were rendering us assistance.

  Of the exciting moments which immediately succeeded, I have but vagueremembrance. Suffice it to say that the warlike race of the Atlas tothe number of two thousand poured into Metlili, and with our forcescombined we succeeded in dislodging and totally annihilating the Frenchgarrison. Everywhere throughout the town fighting quickly becamegeneral, but in such numbers had we now assembled that those holding theKasbah were compelled to sue for peace. The Beni-Mzabs declined,however, to give quarter, consequently the scenes of bloodshed wereterrible to behold. Before dawn the sack of the town had commenced, andeverywhere the firebrand was applied. The loot obtainable was, wefound, of very little value, nevertheless both the Beni-Mzabs and ourown tribesmen were in high glee at their first success against theinfidel forces. It was regarded as precursory of a great victory.

  Just as the sun was rising I was inside the ancient citadel so recentlythe infidel stronghold, and was exploring its many courts with their oldblue-tiled fountains and cool, handsome colonnades, when suddenly as Ipassed beneath an archway in the thickness of the wall a noise startledme. My companions in arms were regaling themselves in an open squarebefore the great white mosque, therefore I was alone. Around me laymany bodies of Touaregs, Spahis, and Beni-Mzabs, while some of thewounded were still groaning, dying slowly, for there had been no attemptto succour the disabled. To fall in a holy war is not a misfortune, butthe reverse. The noise, a loud knock, again sounded, and turning I sawa bolted door, which I at once opened, and was confronted by a prettydark-haired French girl, who, glancing at me in terror for an instant,screamed and fled down a flight of stone stairs into an impenetrabledarkness.

  In a moment I dashed after her. Already the Kasbah had been set onfire, and to save her life instant escape was necessary. Below, in thesmall foul stone chamber, used long ago as a prison, I discovered hercrouching. She screamed loudly at my approach, fearing me, perhaps,because of the mysterious black veil across my face, and knowing thatthe Veiled Men were of evil repute.

  "Thou art Mademoiselle Gabrielle, daughter of our friend ColonelBonnemain," I exclaimed in the best French I could articulate. "Fearnot, but fly at once with me, or we may both lose our lives."

  "How knowest thou my name?" she gasped in amazement. By the glimmer oflight that came from the open court above I saw that her face wasbeautiful but deathly pale. "True, I am daughter of Colonel Bonnemain,but thou art a Touareg. Assuredly thou art our enemy, not our friend.Why, it was thine hosts who attacked us!"

  Briefly I explained the promise of our Sheikh, assuring her of ourfriendship. At first she was inclined to doubt my sincerity, but atlength I prevailed upon her to accompany me in our race for life fromthe burning ruins. Quickly we sought Tamahu, and as there were no womenwith us she was at once placed under my protection. I was to be herguardian and her champion during the remainder of hostilities. Long andearnestly we both searched and enquired for her father, the Colonel, butcould discover no trace of him. Some of his Spahis who surviveddeclared that he had been struck down in the earlier hours of theconflict, while others maintained that they had seen him fightinguninjured up to the very last. From our enquiries it appeared evidentthat, on receiving unexpected reinforcements from the north, he haddetermined upon holding out against us, and overlooking our agreementwith the Beni-Mzabs, was ill-advised enough to decline our good offices.Then, when he found an attack in force being made, he locked Gabriellein a place of safety until the fight should end.

  Full of excitement were those days that followed. I must, however, hereconfess that within twenty-four hours I found myself deeply attached tothis bright-eyed fragile girl whoso gallant father had disappeared somysteriously. We, of the Azjars, leaving the prosperous town of Metlilia mere pile of smoking ruins, encamped for a few days in the vicinitywhere there was an excellent well, then together with the fiercehorsemen of the Beni-Mzab set our heads towards Wargla, another Frenchoutpost. At first Gabrielle felt the fatigue of travel terribly.Fortunately she could ride well, and as her inseparable companion, Iendeavoured to render her journey as comfortable as possible. At mysuggestion she had exchanged her European clothes for the _serroual_ and_haick_ of the Arab women, finding that mode of dress more comfortableand less conspicuous than her own; and so light-hearted she grew thatnot unfrequently she would join me in a cigarette. Her grace and mannercharmed us all. The fierce horsemen of the Azjar and the Beni-Mzab arescarcely chivalrous where women are concerned, but ere we had been onthe march three days there was not a single tribesman who would notexecute her slightest wish.

  Riding day by day over the breathless solitudes of sand, no single wordof complaint ever escaped her. Whenever we halted, before she ate shewould busy herself in attending to our wounded; sometimes bandaging anarm or a leg, at others pouring out water and handing it to a thirstyman with a pleasing smile that quickened his pulse. Then, after we hadeaten and turned our faces to the Holy Ca'aba, she would take an oldSpanish mandoline which one of my companions had picked up cheap longago in Oran, and play and sing to us in a sweet contralto songs from herown far-off Paris. They were mostly gay _chansons_, such as one hearsin the _cafes_ in Algiers, and those with refrains were sung lustily inchorus by the whole of the great assembly.

  One night after she had given us several songs I persuaded her to dance.To those unaccustomed to life in the desert the scene would haveappeared a strange one. The bright moonlight shining full upon her,tipped also with silver the keen heads of a couple of thousand spearsupon which her audience leaned. She had fascinated them. Unanimouslyit had been declared that she was an enchantress. Only one factremained to mar her happiness: her uncertainty
regarding her father'sfate.

  "I will dance on one condition, Ahamadou," she answered in French,throwing back her pretty head and showing her white teeth as shelaughed.

  "What is that?"

  "I will dance if thou wilt take off that hideous black veil. Thou hastbeen my friend all this time, yet, strangely enough, I have never beheldthy face."

  I hesitated. Such a demand was unusual, for a Touareg never removes hisveil.

  My companions overhearing, and noticing my disinclination to acquiesce,with one accord urged me to accede, and at last, amid much good humour,I unwound my black _litham_.

  Long and earnestly she looked into my eyes. Her gaze lingered upon mestrangely, I thought; then suddenly clapping her hands, she raised herlong white arms above her head, and to the thumping of four _derboukas_,one of which I held, she commenced a slow graceful dance. Never tiredof exerting herself to comfort the wounded