England -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Science fiction
Naturally I was much handicapped by the presence of the girl. But I
could not abandon her, though I had no idea what I should do with her
after rejoining my companions. That she would prove a burden and an
embarrassment I was certain, but she had made it equally plain to me
that she would never return to her people to mate with Buckingham.
I owed my life to her, and, all other considerations aside, that was
sufficient demand upon my gratitude and my honor to necessitate my
suffering every inconvenience in her service. Too, she was queen of
England. But, by far the most potent argument in her favor, she was a
woman in distress—and a young and very beautiful one.
And so, though I wished a thousand times that she was back in her camp,
I never let her guess it, but did all that lay within my power to serve
and protect her. I thank God now that I did so.
With the lions still padding back and forth beyond the closed door,
Victory and I crossed the room to one of the windows. I had outlined my
plan to her, and she had assured me that she could descend the ivy
without assistance. In fact, she smiled a trifle at my question.
Swinging myself outward, I began the descent, and had come to within a
few feet of the ground, being just opposite a narrow window, when I was
startled by a savage growl almost in my ear, and then a great taloned
paw darted from the aperture to seize me, and I saw the snarling face
of a lion within the embrasure.
Releasing my hold upon the ivy, I dropped the remaining distance to the
ground, saved from laceration only because the lionl’s paw struck the
thick stem of ivy.
The creature was making a frightful racket now, leaping back and forth
from the floor at the broad window ledge, tearing at the masonry with
his claws in vain attempts to reach me. But the opening was too narrow,
and the masonry too solid.
Victory had commenced the descent, but I called to her to stop just
above the window, and, as the lion reappeared, growling and snarling, I
put a .33 bullet in his face, and at the same moment Victory slipped
quickly past him, dropping into my upraised arms that were awaiting
her.
The roaring of the beasts that had discovered us, together with the
report of my rifle, had set the balance of the fierce inmates of the
palace into the most frightful uproar I have ever heard.
I feared that it would not be long before intelligence or instinct
would draw them from the interiors and set them upon our trail, the
river. Nor had we much more than reached it when a lion bounded around
the corner of the edifice we had just quitted and stood looking about
as though in search of us.
Following, came others, while Victory and I crouched in hiding behind a
clump of bushes close to the bank of the river. The beasts sniffed
about the ground for a while, but they did not chance to go near the
spot where we had stood beneath the window that had given us escape.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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