Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Love stories; Nobility -- Fiction
"Now that you mention it, I'm going to look up the church and colonial
divorce laws," said Britt non-committally, after a moment.
"I advise you to hurry," said Chase coolly. "If you can divorce and
marry 'em inside of four weeks, with no court qualified to try the case
nearer than India, you are a wonder."
Chase was in the habit of visiting the mines two or three times a week
during work hours. The next morning after his conversation with Britt,
he rode out to the mines. When he reached the brow of the last hill,
overlooking the wide expanse in which the men toiled, he drew rein
sharply and stared aghast at what lay before him.
Instead of the usual activity, there was not a man in sight. It was some
time before his bewildered brain could grasp the meaning of the puzzle.
Selim, who rode behind, came up and without a word directed his master's
attention to the long ridge of trees that bordered the broken hillsides.
Then he saw the miners. Five hundred half-naked brown men were
congregated in the shade of the trees, far to the right. By the aid of
his glasses he could see that one of their number was addressing them in
an earnest, violent harangue. It was not difficult, even at that
distance, to recognise the speaker as Von Blitz. From time to time, the
silent watchers saw the throng exhibit violent signs of emotion. There
were frequent gesticulations, occasional dances; the faint sound of
shouts came across the valley.
Chase shuddered. He knew what it meant. He turned to Selim, who sat
beside him like a bronze statue, staring hard at the spectacle.
"How about Allah now, Selim?" he asked sententiously.
"Allah is great, Allah is good," mumbled the Moslem youth, but without
heart.
"Do you think He can save me from those dogs?" asked the master, with a
kindly smile.
"Sahib, do not go among them to-day," implored Selim impulsively.
"They are expecting me, Selim. If I don't come, they will know that I
have funked. They'll know I am afraid of them."
"Do not go to-day," persisted Selim doggedly. Suddenly he started,
looking intently to the left along the line of the hill. Chase followed
the direction of his gaze and uttered a sharp exclamation of surprise.
Several hundred yards away, outlined against the blue sky beyond the
knob, stood the motionless figure of a horse and its rider--a woman in a
green habit. Chase could hardly believe his eyes. It did not require a
second glance to tell him who the rider was; he could not be mistaken in
that slim, proud figure. Without a moment's hesitation he turned his
horse's head and rode rapidly toward her. She had left the road to ride
out upon the crest of the green knob. Chase was in the mood to curse her
temerity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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