He felt a soul-shakingly foul breath against his face and knew that the
monster was bending close above him, but he lay like a man frozen in a
nightmare. He clung to one thought: neither he nor Yar Ali had touched
the jewel this horror guarded.
Then he no longer smelled the foul odor, the coldness in the air
grew appreciably less, and he heard again the secret door slide in
its groove. The fiend was returning to its hiding-place. Not all the
legions of Hell could have prevented Steve's eyes from opening a
trifle. He had only a glimpse as the hidden door slid to--and that one
glimpse was enough to drive all consciousness from his brain. Steve
Clarney, iron-nerved adventurer, fainted for the only time in his
checkered life.
How long he lay there Steve never knew, but it could not have been
long, for he was roused by Yar Ali's whisper, "Lie still, _sahib_, a
little shifting of my body and I can reach thy cords with my teeth."
Steve felt the Afghan's powerful teeth at work on his bonds, and as he
lay with his face jammed into the thick dust, and his wounded shoulder
began to throb agonizingly--he had forgotten it until now--he began to
gather the wandering threads of his consciousness, and it all came
back to him. How much, he wondered dazedly, had been the nightmares of
delirium, born from suffering and the thirst that caked his throat? The
fight with the Arabs had been real--the bonds and the wounds showed
that--but the grisly doom of the shaykh--the thing that had crept out
of the black entrance in the wall--surely that had been a figment of
delirium. Nureddin had fallen into a well or pit of some sort--Steve
felt his hands were free and he rose to a sitting posture, fumbling for
a pocket-knife the Arabs had overlooked. He did not look up or about
the chamber as he slashed the cords that bound his ankles, and then
freed Yar Ali, working awkwardly because his left arm was stiff and
useless.
"Where are the Bedouins?" he asked, as the Afghan rose, lifting him to
his feet.
"Allah, _sahib_," whispered Yar Ali, "are you mad? Have you forgotten?
Let us go quickly before the djinn returns!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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