The Veiled Man

by William Le Queux

Sahara, would endeavour toescape, but both he and his pretty and adventurous wife kept theappointment, and after some days we eventually arrived at ourencampment.

  The excitement caused by our appearance was unbounded. Taghma and hiscompanions at once recognised the Englishman in his blood-red robe asthe Allah of the Kel-Alkoum, and all fell on their knees, crying aloudin adoration.

  But their supplications were quickly cut short by the few loud words ofauthority I uttered, and when half an hour later the reckless adventurerexhibited his stained face and hands, and then entertained them byshowing the simple means by which he accomplished his tricks of magic,the air was rent by roars of laughter. The veiled warriors of the Azjardanced for joy, and held their sides when convinced how completely theirenemies had been tricked, and how dejected they, no doubt, were whenthey knew that the Allah, in whom they trusted, had forsaken themwithout a single word of farewell.

  For a month the ingenious impostor remained a guest within our tents;then he departed for the north, taking his wife Mezouda with him. Butsince that day the Kel-Alkoum, believing themselves the forgotten ofAllah, have ever been a cowed and peaceful nation.

  CHAPTER SIX.

  THE EVIL OF THE THOUSAND EYES.

  The camp fire was dying in the gloomy hour before the dawn. In theGreat Desert the light comes early from the far-off Holy City, golden asthe Prophet's glory, to light our footsteps in those trackless waterlesswastes which are shunned by man and forgotten by Allah. My tribesmen ofthe Azjar, still wrapped in their black veils, were sleeping soundlyprior to the long march of the coming day, and all was quiet save thehowling of a desert fox, and the shuffling tread of the sentries as theytraversed the camp from end to end, silent and weird in their long blackburnouses and veils. Alone, I was sitting gazing into the dying embers,deep in thought. I had been unable to sleep, for a strange premonitionof danger oppressed me. We were in the country of the Taitok, a tribeof pure Arabs, fierce in battle, who when united with the Kel-Rhela,their neighbours, were among our most formidable opponents. The Sheikhsof both tribes had made treaty with the French, and placed their countrybeneath the protection of the tricolour of the Infidels, therefore inour expedition, against their town of Azal, we knew that we must meetwith considerable opposition.

  We had exercised every caution in our advance, travelling by variousancient dried-up watercourses known only to us, "The Breath of theWind," approaching in secret the town we intended to loot and burn as areprisal for an attack made upon us a month before. But the report of aspy, who had gone forward to Azal, was exceedingly discouraging. TheFrench had occupied the Kasbah, the red-burnoused Spahis were swaggeringabout the streets and market-places, while the tricolour floated overthe city gate, and the fierce fighting men of the Taitok were nowfearless of any invader. It was this report which caused meconsiderable uneasiness, and I was calmly reflecting whether to turn offto the east into the barren Ahaggar, or to push forward and measure ourstrength with our enemies, the Infidels, when suddenly my eyes,sharpened by a lifetime of desert wandering, detected a dark crouchingfigure moving in the gloom at a little distance from me. In an instantI snatched up my rifle and covered it. Unconscious of how near deathwas, the mysterious stranger still moved slowly across, lying upon hisstomach and dragging himself along the sand in the direction of my tent.As I looked, a slight flash caught my eye. It was the gleam of theflickering flame upon burnished steel. The man held a knife, and at thedoor of my tent raised himself before entering, then disappeared within.

  Quick as thought I jumped up, drew my keen double-edged _jambiyah_ frommy girdle, and noiselessly sped towards my tent, drawing aside the flap,and dashing in to capture the intruder.

  The dark figure was bending over a portfolio wherein I keep certainwritings belonging to the tribe, the compacts of friends and the threatsof foes.

  "Thou art my prisoner!" I cried fiercely, halting inside, casting asidemy knife and raising my rifle.

  The figure turned quickly with a slight scream, and by the feeble lightof my hanging-lamp I was amazed to detect the features of a woman,young, beautiful, with a face almost as white as those of the Roumiwomen who sit at cafes in Algiers.

  "Mercy, O Ahamadou!" she implored, next second casting herself upon herknees before me. "True, I have fallen prisoner into thine hands, butthe Book of Everlasting Will declares that thou shalt neither hold inslavery nor kill those who art thy friends. I crave thy mercy, forindeed I am thy friend."

  "Yet thou seekest my life with that knife in thine hand!" I cried inanger. "Whence comest thou?" I demanded, for her Arabic was a dialectentirely strange to me.

  "From a country afar--a region which no man knoweth," she answered.

  "The country of the Azjar is the whole of the Great Desert," I answered,with pride. "Every rock and every wady is known unto them."

  "Not every wady," she replied, smiling mysteriously. "They know not theLand of Akkar, nor the City of the Golden Tombs."

  "The Land of Akkar!" I gasped, for Akkar was a region which onlyexisted in the legendary lore of the Bedouins, and was supposed to be afabulous country, wherein lived a mysterious race of white people, andwhere was concealed the enormous treasure captured during the MussulmanConquest. "Knowest thou actually the position of the wondrous Land ofAkkar?"

  "It is my home," she answered in soft sibillation, as stretching forthmy hand I motioned her to rise. I saw that her beauty and grace wereperfect. She wore no veil, but her dark robe was dusty and stained bylong travel, while her striking beauty was enhanced by a string of cutemeralds of great size and lustre across her brow, in place of thesequins with which our women decorate themselves. She wore no otherjewels, save a single diamond upon the index-finger of the right hand, astone of wondrous size and brilliancy. It seemed to gleam like somemonster eye as she sank upon the divan near, a slight sigh of fatigueescaping her.

  "And thy name?" I enquired.

  "Nara, daughter of Kiagor," she answered. "And thou art the greatAhamadou, whom all men fear from Lake Tsad, even unto the confines ofAlgeria, the leader of the dreaded Breath of the Wind. In our secretland reports of thy prowess and ferocity in the fight, of thy leniencytowards the women and children of thine enemies, have already reachedus, therefore I travelled alone to seek thee."

  And she looked up into my face, her full red lips parted in a smile.

  "Why?" I enquired, puzzled.

  "Because I crave the protection of thine host of black-veiled warriors,"she answered. "Our land of Akkar is threatened by an invasion of theInfidel English, who have sent two spies northward from the Niger. MayAllah burn their vitals! They succeeded in penetrating into ourmountain fastness, and were captured by our scouts. One was killed, butthe other escaped. He has, undoubtedly, gone back to his own people;and they will advance upon us, for they are a nation the most powerfuland most fearless in all the world."

  "Of a verity thy lips utter truth," I observed, "for we once fought inthe Dervish ranks against the English on the Nile bank, and were cutdown like sun-dried grass before the scythe. But who hath sent thee asmessenger to me?"

  "I come on my own behalf," she responded. "I am ruler of the Akkar."

  It was strange, sitting there in conversation with the ruler of amysterious region, the existence of which every Arab in the Soudan andthe Sahara firmly believed, yet no man had ever set foot in thelegendary country, the fabulous wealth and strange sights of which wererelated by every story-teller from Khartoum even unto Timbuktu. And yetNara, the Queen of Akkar, was a guest within my camp, and had fallenupon her knees before me in supplication. Ambition was fired within meto visit her wondrous land of the silent dead, and I announced myreadiness to effect a treaty with her, first accompanying her alone tosee the wonders of her mystic realm. As I spoke, however, a curiouschange appeared to come over her. Her face flushed slightly, her eyesgleamed with a fiery glance, and there was a hardness about her mouth,which, for one brief moment, caused me suspicion.

  "Thou
art welcome, O Ahamadou!" she answered, smiling bewitchingly, nextinstant. "We will start even now, if thou wilt, for no time must belost ere thine armed men unite with the guards of my kingdom to resistthe accursed English, that white-faced tribe whom Eblis hath marked ashis own. Let us speed on the wings of haste, and within a week thoumayest be back here within thine own camp."

  And she rose in readiness to go forth.

  "My _meheri_ is tethered behind yon rock," she continued, pointing outbeyond the camp where a great dark rock loomed forth against thefast-clearing sky. "Join me there, and I will guide thy footsteps untomy City of the Golden Tombs."

  Whilst she went forth secretly I called Malela, son of Tamahu, andimparted to him the circumstances, telling him of my intention to gosecretly to Akkar, and giving him