CHAPTER XIII.
Two hours later found them winding up into the hills. At the head of the cavalcade strode the tall, gaunt figure of Ishmi Bey, walking at the stirrup of the Lady Thalia, with whom he was in earnest conversation. A short distance behind them, Rosenthal rode alone, sitting his big horse droopingly, a huge and somewhat dejected figure, with his massive head swathed in bandages. Sir James and Dallas came next, followed by Connors and such of the Albanians as were fit to travel.
"There is going to be the very deuce of a row, Stephen," said Sir James. "The most of the inhabitants of this sanjak of Novibazar are south Slavonic Serbs. This whole district is the cradle of the Servian race, and the Prince Emilio is the ranking feudal chief. Thalia, on the other hand, is pure Albanian, only connected to Emilio by marriage, and her people are all Albanian, Græco-Latin stock, and descendants of the ancient Illyrians. They have no fixed religion; they are Christians of both Greek and Bulgarian Churches and Mohammedans of all grades. The Turks first drove them up into these hills, and so they hate the Turks, and the Serbs have always been trying to drive them back again, and so they hate the Serbs. Also they are forever fighting among themselves, and so they hate one another."
"A cheerful crowd," observed Dallas.
"Are they not? They have always got to be fighting somebody. When Constantine Bey, Thalia's father, was alive, he did a lot to keep the peace, and in reward got assassinated himself. His friend and cousin, Ishmi Bey, laid the murder to Emilo's door, and Emilo discovered it, and one night paid him a visit and burned his castle and carried off his womenkind."
"Nice young man, Emilio."
"Quite so. He appears to have formed the habit. Ishmi Bey was not strong enough to retaliate, and finally appears to have decided that he was cursed of Allah, and hauled off into the woods and built himself the cabin which you and Thalia found, and turned holy man. When he heard the firing, he came across the river and persuaded the herders to clear out, and then conducted us to Dakabar. We did not worry about you as much as we might have done, because one of the herders came back and said that you had shot three of the gang and got across the river unhurt. So we hurried along, hoping to overtake you on the trail to Dakabar. It never occurred to us that you might be wounded, as the last that we heard was the crack of your 30-40."
Dallas nodded. "I should not have been shot if I hadn't been a fool," he said.
"When we found nothing of you," continued Sir James, "we hurried on to Dakabar, collected a mounted force, and came back the next day to look for you. This is the third searching expedition that we have made, and this time we took a strong party with the idea of combing the hills all over the place until we got some news of you. Meanwhile, Ishmi Bey has passed the word into the hills that the Prince Emilio has tried to murder the Lady Thalia and her party, and the Shkipetari have been pouring into Dakabar from all sides. There must be five hundred of them there now, all spoiling for a fight, and I do not think that Thalia and Ishmi Bey combined can keep them from attacking Emilio within the next forty-eight hours. They are led by a crazy fanatic, Sheik Izzat, and they mean to make a clean sweep of Emilio and all his tribe."
"I should like to be at the party," said Dallas.
"So should I. We've got a little score with Emilio. Suppose we go along."
"All right. I might even so far forget myself as to take a snapshot at his highness if opportunity offered. How did Paula stand the ordeal?"
Sir James glanced up quickly, and his swarthy color grew slightly darker. Dallas, staring between his pony's ears, failed to observe the confusion of his friend.
"Like a veteran," answered Sir James. "I got a slug through the muscles of the neck, and she" He paused awkwardly. Dallas, intent on his own thoughts, did not notice it. For a while the two friends rode in silence; then Sir James remarked in a voice slightly different from his usual tone:
"Odd how sharing mutual danger appears to draw people together."
Dallas glanced at him sharply. "Why shouldn't it?" he asked.
Sir James' swarthy color deepened, and for a moment he did not answer.
"Look here, Stephen." He turned abruptly to his friend. "Do you consider that a situation can arise such as—er—the sharing of mutual danger, which could possibly justify—or at least—h'm—ah—extenuate the circumstance of a man's forgetting his duty to a friend where—h'm—ah—a woman was concerned?"
Dallas turned and stared at him with a rigid face. He could scarcely believe his ears. He had intended at the first opportunity to tell Sir James of all that had passed between Thalia and himself, and to offer such amends as lay within his power. But to be, as he supposed, subjected to an inquisition which was founded on mere suspicion and narrow-minded jealousy aroused his quick and keen resentment.
Sir James met the steely look, and his own face hardened. Then he glanced away, flushing crimsonly, and began to tug at his wiry mustache.
"No," said Dallas curtly, "I don't. Do you?"
"Er—er—no," answered Sir James; then blurted out: "Theoretically."
Dallas regarded him through narrowed lids.
"Suppose we drop the woman part of it, James," said he, in his coldest voice, "until we get this other business off our hands."
"Quite so," said Sir James, and the two fell silent again.