The church clock struck one as she arrived at this comfortable
conclusion, and she turned her back to the moonlight and composed
herself for slumber. Her thoughts wandered off down another
track;--India as Nick had described it to her, a land of rivers and
jungles, tigers and snakes, natives that were like monkeys, horses that
moved like camels, pigs with tusks that had to be hunted and slain.
Elephants too! He had left out the elephants, but they crowded in royal
array into Olga's quick imagination. She and Nick would often go
elephant-riding in the jungle. Mysterious word! It held her like a
spell. Tall trees and winding undergrowth, a gloom well-nigh
impenetrable, creatures that hid and spied upon them as they passed!
Perhaps they would go tiger-hunting together. She thrilled at the
thought, picturing herself creeping down one of those dim glades, rifle
in hand, in search of the enemy. Nick would certainly have to teach her
to shoot. He was a splendid shot, she knew. She believed that she could
be a good shot too. It would not be easy to mark the striped body
sliding through the undergrowth, but it would be a serious thing to
miss. Olga's eyes closed. She began to wander down that jungle path, in
search of the monster that lurked there. The lust of the hunt was upon
her. She was about to secure the largest tiger that had ever been seen.
Her breath came quickly. Her blood ran hot. She forgot all lesser things
in the ardour of the chase. The elephants had disappeared. She was
running on foot through the jungle, eager and undismayed. Ah! What was
that? Something that moved and was still. Two points that shone out
suddenly ahead of her! Green eyes that gleamed triumphant mockery! Her
heart stopped beating. Those eyes! Those eyes! They struck terror to her
soul.
Headlong she turned and fled. Back through the jungle with the anguished
speed of fear. The ground was sodden. It seemed to hold her flying feet.
She tore them free, only to plunge deeper at every step, while behind
her, swift and remorseless, followed her fate.
Wildly she struggled, powerless but persistent, till at last her
strength was gone. She sank in utter impotence.
And then he came to her, he lifted her, he held her in his arms, pressed
sickening kisses upon her lips; and suddenly she knew that she had fled
from a myth to hurl herself into the power of her enemy. She had eluded
her fate but to find herself at the mercy of a devil.
Gasping and half-suffocated she awoke, starting upright in a cold sweat
of fear. Her heart was pumping as if it would burst. Her starting eyes
searched and searched for the face of her captor. Her ears were strained
for the sound of his soft, hateful laugh.
Ah! He was at the door! She heard a hand feeling along the panels, heard
the handle turn! As one paralyzed she sat and waited.
Softly the door opened.
"Allegro!" whispered a hushed voice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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