The Caldwell watchman. (Columbia, La.) 1885-1946, 1913-03-14
seemed to strike at the very source
of his life.
Fortune Chedsoye!
CHAPTER XIII.
Not a Cheerful Outlook.

George, his brain in tumult, a fierce
tigerish courage giving fictitious
strength to his body. staggered toward
her. 1t was mad dream. a mirage
Of his own disordered thoughts. For
tune there? 1t was not belieyable
What place had she in this tangled
web? He ran his fingers into his hair,
gripped, and pulled. II it was dream
the pain did not waken him; Fortune
sat there still. Through what ter.
rors might she not have passed the
preceding night? Alone in the desert,
without any of those conveniences
which are to women as necessary as
the air they breathe! He tried to run,
but his feet sank too deeply in the
pale sand; he could only plod. He
must touch her or hear her voice;
otherwise he stood upon the brink of
madness. There was no doubt in his
mind now; he loved her, loved her as
deeply and passionately as any sto.
ried knight loved his lady; loved her
without thought of reward, unselfsh-
ly, with great and tender pity, for un-
consciously he saw that she, like he.
was all alone, not only here in the
desert but along the highways where
men set up their dwellings.
Mahomed. having an eye upon all
things, though apparently seeing only
that which was under his immediate
concern, saw the young mans inten-
ton. and more, read the secret in his
face. He was infinitely amused.
There were two Of them, so it seemed.
Quietly he slipped in between George
and the girl, and his movement freed
Georges mind Of its bewilderment.
Unhesitatingly. he flung himself upon
the Arab, striving to reach the lean,
brown throat Mahomed, strong and
unwearied, having no hand in the &C.
tuala warfare, thrust George back SO
vigorously that the young man lost
his balance and fell prone upon the
sand. He was 80 weak that the fall
stunned him. Mahomed stepped for
ward, doubtless with the generous i'm.
pulse to prove that in the matter Of
kicks he desired to show no partial.
ity, when a hand caught at his bur.
mouse. He paused and looked down.
1t was the girl.
Don't! A brave man would not do
that,
Mahomed, moved by some feeling
that eluded immediate analysis,
turned about. 1t was time to be off,
if he wished to reach Serapeum the
following night. Pursuit he knew to
be out Of the question, since who
was there to know that there was any.
thing to pursue? But many miles in.
tervened between here and his desti-
nation. He dared not enter Serapeum
in the daytime. Lying upon the canal
bank as it did, the possibility Of en-
countering q stray white man con.
fronted him. Every camelway fire.
quented by Europeans must of ne.
cessity be avoided, every town Of any
size skirted, u and all the while he must
keep parallel with known paths or be.
come lost himself. Not to become
lost himself, that was his real con.
Germ. The caravan was provisioned
for months, and he knew Asia-Minor
as we'll as the lines upon his palms.
There were sand-st0rms, too; but
against these blighting visitations he
would match his vigilant eye and the
instinct Of the camels. The one way
in which these peculiar storms might
distress him lay in the total oblitera
ton Of the way-signs, certain rocks
certain hills, without the guidance OF
which, like good ship bereft OF Its
compass. he might fall away from his
course, Notwithstanding that he would
always travel toward the sun.
And there was also the vital ques
ton Of water; he must measure the
time between each well, each oasis
So. then. aside from these dangers
with which he felt able to cope, there
was one unforeseen: the chance meet
ing with wandering caravan headed
by white men in search Of rugs ant
carpets. These fools were eternally
hunting about the wastes of thu
world; they were never satisfied I'm
less they were prowling into countries
where they had no business to be, were
always breaking the laws Of the ca
iiphs and the Koran.
The girl was beautiful in her pale
foreign way; beautiful as the star o.
the morning, as the first rose Of thu
Persian spring; and he sighed fo1
the old days that were no more. Sht
would have brought a sultan's ransom
in the markets. But the accurset
Feringhi were everywhere, and these
sickly If handsome white women were
more to them than their hearts blood
why, he had never ceased to wonder
But upon this knowledge he hat
mapped out his plan of torture in re
gard to Ryanne. The idea of selling
Fortune had dimly formed in hi
mind. while his blood had burned ii
anger: but today's soberness showe'