sagging fleshy wrinkled cheeks.
“In a voice of thunder which dominated the clamour, he replied:
“ ‘Death to him who has given death.’
“He thrust his revolver into the agha’s brown face. I saw a little smoke rise from the barrel; then a pink froth of brains and blood gushed from the chief’s forehead. As though struck by lightning he collapsed upon his back, throwing his arms apart, which raised the trailing skirts of his burnous-like wings.
“I thought my last hour had come, the tumult around us was so frightful.
“Mohammed had drawn his sabre; we followed his example. With windmill strokes he held off those who pressed him most closely, shouting:
“ ‘I’ll spare the lives of those who surrender; death to the rest.’
“And seizing the nearest in his herculean fists, he laid him across the saddle and bound his hands, shouting to us:
“ ‘Do as I do, and sabre those who resist.’
“In five minutes we had captured some twenty Arabs, whose wrists we fastened securely. Then we pursued the fugitives, for at sight of our naked swords there had been a general flight. We collected about thirty more captives.
“The plain was filled with white, scurrying figures. The women dragged their children along, uttering shrill screams. The yellow dogs, like jackals, leapt round us, barking and showing their white fangs.
“Mohammed, who seemed out of his wits with joy, dismounted at one bound, and seizing the rope I had brought, said:
“ ‘Careful, now, boys; two of you dismount.’
“Then he made a ludicrous and ghastly thing; a necklace of prisoners, or rather a necklace of hanged men. He had firmly bound the two wrists of the first captive, then he made a noose round his neck with the same cord, with which he next secured the second captive’s arms, and then knotted it round that man’s neck. Our fifty prisoners soon found themselves bound in such a manner that the slightest attempt to escape on the part of one of them would have strangled both him and his two neighbours, and they were forced to march at an exactly even pace, without altering the gap between each of them by the slightest hair’s-breadth, or else be promptly caught like hares in a snare.
“When this curious task was accomplished, Mohammed began to laugh, the silent laugh which shook his belly without a sound coming from his mouth.
“ ‘That’s the Arab chain,’ he said.
“We too began to roar with laughter at the prisoners’ scared piteous faces.
“ ‘Now, boys,’ cried our leader, ‘fasten a stake at each end.’
“We attached a stake to each end of this ribbon of ghostlike captives, who remained as motionless as though turned to stone.
“ ‘And now for dinner,’ announced the Turk.
“A fire was lit and a sheep roasted, which we divided with our bare hands. Then we ate some dates found in the tents, drank some milk procured in the same way, and picked up some silver jewellery left behind by the fugitives.
“We were peacefully finishing our meal when I perceived, on the hill facing us, a singular assemblage. It was the women who had recently fled, only the women. And they were running towards us. I pointed them out to Mohammed-Fripouille.
“He smiled.
“ ‘It’s our dessert,’ he cried.
“ ‘Quite so, the dessert!’
“They came up, galloping madly, and soon we were bombarded with stones, which they flung at us without pausing in their onrush. We saw that they were armed with knives, tent-pegs, and broken pottery.
“ ‘Get on your horses,’ yelled Mohammed.
“It was high time. The attack was terrible. They were come to free the prisoners, and strove to cut the rope. The Turk, realising the danger, flew into a mad rage and shouted: ‘Sabre them!—sabre them!—sabre them!’ And as we remained inactive, uneasy at this new sort of attack, hesitating to kill women, he rushed upon the invaders.
“Alone he charged that battalion of ragged females; the brute proceeded to put them to the sword, working like a galley-slave, in such a frenzy of rage that a white form dropped every time his arm swept down.
“His onslaught was so terrible that the frightened women fled as quickly as they had come, leaving behind them a dozen dead or wounded wretches, whose crimson blood stained their white garments.
“Mohammed returned towards us with a distorted face, repeating:
“ ‘Off with you, boys, off we go; they’re coming back.’
“And we fought a rearguard action, slowly leading our prisoners, who were paralysed with the fear of being strangled.
“It was striking twelve next day when we arrived at Boghar with our chain of throttled captives. Only six had died on the way. But we had frequently to undo the knots from one end of the convoy to another, for every shock promptly strangled ten or more captives.”
The captain paused. I did not answer. I thought of the strange country wherein such things were to be seen, and gazed at the black sky and its innumerable company of shining stars.
The Legacy
Monsieur and Madame Serbois were lunching, sitting opposite each other. Both looked gloomy.
She, a little blonde with rosy skin and blue eyes and a gentle manner, was eating slowly without raising her head, as though she were haunted by some sad and persistent thought. He, tall, broad, with side-whiskers and the air of a statesman or business man, seemed nervous and preoccupied. Finally he said, as though speaking to himself, “Really, it’s astonishing.”
“What is?” his wife asked.
“That Vaudrec shouldn’t have left us anything.”
Madame Serbois blushed; she blushed instantly, as though a rosy veil had suddenly been drawn over the skin of her throat and face. “Perhaps there is a will at the notary’s,” she said. “It is too early for us to know.”
She said it with assurance, and Serbois answered reflectively: “Yes, that is possible. After all, he was the best friend of both of us, always here, staying for dinner every other day. I know he gave you many presents—that was perhaps his way of repaying our hospitality—but really, one does think of friends like us in a will. I know that if it had been I
