Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 115: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CARAVAN white man. Dog that I am, I waited, lis- tening, and fearful to speak to the higher ones. Then she said thy name, Dono-van Khan, very loudly. The white man made response, then took her in his arms. I was glad. I have known the longing that is in your veins for the white woman. Aye, I have seen the light of desire in her eyes—”’ ‘“ Aravang!” Donovan felt ashamed, as he had been caught spying on the woman he loved. Then a hot exultation gripped him, to pass as swiftly as it came and leave him cold. “‘ Spit upon thy unworthy slave, master! Call me even a dog. Oh, I am unworthy! While I watched, this man took her in his arms and bore her to the small gate, the one that leads to the forest. The gate opened before him and then closed: this thing I heard.” The. servant was breathing deeply, as a powerful man will who has run far. ‘It was unwonted. Master, I knew thy custom to go always alone. If the gate closed, thus, when the white man held my mistress, another hand must have closed it. So, when I felt of the gate from within and found it fast, I scented evil. Then I climbed the wall. Dono-van Khan, there is a small moon to-night. By its light I saw shadows moving into the forest. This, also, was a strange thing. I followed.” ‘You should have run for me.” van almost growled the words. with the tale.” “Verily I am a blundering yak. By the sound of their passage I traced the shadows through the trees. Several men spoke soft- ly. By now I knew that an evil thing was coming to pass. After a long time, at one of the upper goat paths, I heard the khanum cry out, once. The cry was Sti- fled. Am I not her dog? I ran forward to strike and slay, even though I held no weapon—not a knife. In the goat path, where the new moon struck through the Dono- “Go on trees, stood a dozen armed men with horses. They mounted and spurred away, two by two.” “Which way?” “To the lower valley. The bits of the horses were muffled, likewise the hard leather of their hoofs. For a space I ran OF THE DEAD. 105 behind, seeking to gain the side of my mistress. They saw me and went faster. Then the thought came to me that I should seek thee with the news. I waited until I knew they were riding beyond the valley and not to the mosque. Then I ran down the mountainside to the stone house, where you were sitting—”’ Aravang ceased, and fell into expectant silence. The balcony was quiet, except for the native’s deep breathing and the broken murmur of the lake. Now and then a gust shook the pine branches over their heads. For five minutes John Donovan was im- mobile. In that time he experienced the bitterness that comes to a man with mis- fortune not of his deserving. He had longed for the moment when he could speak of his love to Edith Rand, and he had hurried to the house—too late. Also, with the necessary calmness of a trained soldier, he revised the whole plan he had formed with the Sayaks that afternoon, and made others. And, gravely, he prepared to face the consequence of a broken oath. Edith Rand had left Yahka Arik. His only information was the story of Aravang. Donovan could not know wheth- er she had gone willingly or not. Yet he believed she had been taken forcibly. ‘‘ Aravang,” he voiced the result of his thoughts, “ run through the village to the mosque. Summon Iskander first, to come speedily here. Nay—bid all the Sayak leaders and Mahmoud to come. Say that I must speak with them. Go swiftly!” ~ “ Excellency, I hear.” The servant rose and dropped from the rail of the balcony to the earth. Donovan heard the sound of his words trail off: “It shall be done. I am a dog, but a dog can run.” He went below to the empty sleeping- room. Aravang had set the table, with lighted candles that flickered in the passing breaths of wind. The sight of Edith’s empty chair stirred Donovan strangely, and he moved it away from the table. Without being hungry, he forced himself to eat a certain amount of the spiced mut- ton and sour bread, washed down with fer- mented milk. This he did mechanically, and pushed his chair away from the table, fingering the_bowl of his cole pipe. comicloook (©