hinged upon the contingency of my capture at Opar!'
She smiled. 'Fate reaches back further than that,' she said. 'Suppose you had not been born?'
'Then Abu Batn would have carried you off to the harem of some black sultan, or perhaps another man would have been captured at Opar.'
'I am glad that you were born,' said Zora.
'Thank you,' said Colt.
While listening for signs of pursuit, they conversed in low tones, Colt narrating in detail the events leading up to his capture, though some of the details of his escape he omitted through a sense of loyalty to the nameless girl who had aided him. Neither did he stress Zveri's lack of control over his men, or what Colt considered his inexcusable cowardice in leaving himself and Romero to their fate within the walls of Opar without attempting to succor them, for he believed that the girl was Zveri's sweetheart and he did not wish to offend her.
'What became of Comrade Romero?' she asked.
'I do not know,' he said. 'The last I saw of him he was standing his ground, fighting off those crooked little demons.'
'Alone?' she asked.
'I was pretty well occupied myself,' he said.
'I do not mean that,' she replied. 'Of course, I know you were there with Romero, but who else?'
'The others had not arrived,' said Colt.
'You mean you two went in alone?' she asked.
Colt hesitated. 'You see,' he said, 'the blacks refused to enter the city, so the rest of us had to go in or abandon the attempt to get the treasures.'
'But only you and Miguel did go in. Is that not true?' she demanded.
'I passed out so soon, you see,' he said with a laugh, 'that really I do not know exactly what did happen.'
The girl's eyes narrowed. 'It was beastly,' she said.
As they talked, Colt's eyes were often upon the girl's face. How lovely she was, even beneath the rags and the dirt that were the outward symbols of her captivity among the Aarabs. She was a little thinner than when he had last seen her, and her eyes were tired and her face drawn from privation and worry. But, perhaps, by very contrast her beauty was the more startling. It seemed incredible that she could love the coarse, loud-mouthed Zveri, who was her antithesis in every respect.
Presently she broke a short silence. 'We must try to get back to the base camp,' she said. 'It is vital that I be there. So much must be done, so much that no one else can do.'
'You think only of the cause,' he said; 'never of yourself. You are very loyal.'
'Yes,' she said in a low voice. 'I am loyal to the thing I have sworn to accomplish.'
'I am afraid,' he said, 'that for the past few days I have been thinking more of my own welfare than of that of the proletariat.'
'I am afraid that at heart you are still bourgeois,' she said, 'and that you cannot yet help looking upon the proletariat with contempt.'
'What makes you say that?' he asked. 'I am sure that I said nothing to warrant it.'
'Often a slight unconscious inflection in the use of a word alters the significance of a whole statement, revealing a speaker's secret thoughts.'
Colt laughed good naturedly. 'You are a dangerous person to talk to,' he said. 'Am I to be shot at sunrise?'
She looked at him seriously. 'You are different from the others,' she said. 'I think you could never imagine how suspicious they are. What I have said is only in the way of warning you to watch your every word when you are talking with them. Some of them are narrow and ignorant, and they are already suspicious of you because of your antecedents. They are sensitively jealous of a new importance which they believe their class has attained.'
'Their class?' he asked. 'I thought you told me once that you were of the proletariat?'
If he had thought that he had surprised her and that she would show embarrassment, he was mistaken. She met his eyes squarely and without wavering. 'I am,' she said, 'but I can still see the weaknesses of my class.'
He looked at her steadily for a long moment, the shadow of a smile touching his lips. 'I do not believe-'
'Why do you stop?' she asked. 'What is it that you do not believe?'
'Forgive me,' he said. 'I was starting to think aloud.'
'Be careful, Comrade Colt,' she warned him. 'Thinking aloud is sometimes fatal'; but she tempered her words with a smile.
Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of the voices of men in the distance. 'They are coming,' said the girl.
Colt nodded, and the two remained silent, listening to the sounds of approaching voices and footsteps. The men came abreast of them and halted; and Zora, who understood the Aarab tongue, heard one of them say, 'The trail stops here. They have gone into the jungle.'
'Who can the man be who is with her?' asked another.
'It is a Nasrany. I can tell by the imprint of his feet,' said another.
'They would go toward the river,' said a third. 'That is the way that I should go if I were trying to escape.'
'Wullah! You speak words of wisdom,' said the first speaker. 'We will spread out here and search toward the river; but look out for the Nasrany. He has the pistol and the musket of the sheykh.'
The two fugitives heard the sound of pursuit diminishing in the distance as the Aarabs forced their way into the jungle toward the river. 'I think we had better get out of this,' said Colt; 'and while it may be pretty hard going, I believe that we had better stick to the brush for awhile and keep on away from the river.'
'Yes,' replied Zora, 'for that is the general direction in which the camp lies.' And so they commenced their long and weary march in search of their comrades.
They were still pushing through dense jungle when night overtook them. Their clothes were in rags and their bodies scratched and torn, mute and painful reminders of the thorny way that they had traversed.
Hungry and thirsty they made a dry camp among the branches of a tree, where Colt built a rude platform for the girl, while he prepared to sleep upon the ground at the foot of the great bole. But to this, Zora would not listen.
'That will not do at all,' she said. 'We are in no position to permit ourselves to be the victims of every silly convention that would ordinarily order our lives in civilized surroundings. I appreciate your thoughtful consideration, but I would rather have you up here in the tree with me than down there where the first hunting lion that passed might get you.' And so with the girl's help Colt built another platform close to the one that he had built for her; and as darkness fell, they stretched their tired bodies on their rude couches and sought to sleep.
Presently Colt dozed, and in his dream he saw the slender figure of a star-eyed goddess, whose cheeks were wet with tears, but when he took her in his arms and kissed her he saw that she was Zora Drinov; and then a hideous sound from the jungle below awakened him with a start, so that he sat up, seizing the musket of the sheykh in readiness.
'A hunting lion,' said the girl in a low voice.
'Phew!' exclaimed Colt. 'I must have been asleep, for that certainly gave me a start.'
'Yes, you were asleep,' said the girl. 'I heard you talking,' and he felt that he detected laughter in her voice.
'What was I saying?' asked Colt.
'Maybe you wouldn't want to hear. It might embarrass you,' she told him.
'No. Come ahead. Tell me.'
'You said 'I love you.''
'Did I, really?'
'Yes. I wonder whom you were talking to,' she said, banteringly.
'I wonder,' said Colt, recalling that in his dream the figure of one girl had merged into that of another.
The lion, hearing their voices moved away growling. He was not hunting the hated man-things.
