"Yes, we will try the temple first," said Olga. "It stands higher. There will be much more air there."
They descended. There was still no sign of the rest of the party. "I expect they gave us a start to keep out of the beastly dust," said Noel.
"They'll be here directly. Nick has pitched on a secluded corner anyhow.
I shouldn't think the foot of man had trodden it for a thousand years."
Olga laughed. "I wonder. It's better than the jungle, isn't it? I don't feel nearly so creepy here."
"What price tigers?" grinned Noel.
"Oh, I've got over that," she declared. "But I didn't like your Wilderness of Nasty Possibilities."
He flashed her a merry look. "You ought not to be afraid with Master Overbold by your side. As for the tiger, we may meet him yet."
"Oh, no, we shan't!" she a.s.serted with confidence. "It would be too ludicrously like a fairy-tale."
"Horribly ludicrous!" said Noel. "Well, come along and look for him!"
So side by side they started.
CHAPTER VIII
THE SOUL OF A HERO
The way was exceedingly rough and here and there almost overgrown with coa.r.s.e weeds. Near the temple, the ground ascended fairly steeply, and the path narrowed so that it was impossible to walk abreast.
"Wonder if there are any of those jolly little _karaits_ about,"
speculated Noel. "If you don't mind, I'll go first."
"I believe I saw a scorpion!" said Olga, as he took the lead.
He laughed at her over his shoulder. "Or a lizard! Stick to it, Mistress Timorous! You'll develop a taste for adventure soon."
"Oh, I'm not a coward really," she protested. "At least I never used to be!"
"You are the sweetest girl in the world," said Noel, in a tone that reduced Olga to instant and uncompromising silence.
She could not refuse his hand, however, when he paused to help her over the rough places. It was an utter impossibility to be ungracious to Noel for long. He was far too seductive.
They reached the top of the ascent and found themselves close to the temple. The place was a ruin. Blocks of stone, that once had been part of its structure, were scattered in all directions; and, advancing, they presently stumbled upon the monstrous head of a broken idol.
"This is the temple of Dagon," said Noel dramatically. "I don't think it's a very suitable place for a picnic. One might find bits of human sacrifices about and that would spoil the appet.i.te."
"Oh, don't be gruesome!" Olga besought him. "Let's go in, as we are here."
They crossed the stone-strewn s.p.a.ce through the shadowy cypresses, and entered under the dome. The place was dark and very eerie. Their footsteps echoed weirdly, and instantly there ensued a wild commotion overhead of owls and flying-foxes.
Olga started violently, and Noel looked upwards with a laugh that echoed and echoed in sinister repet.i.tion.
"What a ghastly place!" whispered Olga, as it died away at last.
The whisper was taken up and repeated from wall to wall till the further darkness swallowed it. Olga's hand went out instinctively and closed upon Noel's arm. Her nerves were not strung to this.
Almost before she knew it, he had drawn her to him, and slipped the arm about her. She looked up swiftly to protest, but the words were never spoken. They died upon her lips. For even as she opened them to speak there came an awful sound from the darkness.
It began deep and low, swelling in volume till it filled the building, reverberating from stone to stone, vibrating along the broken floor--a growl rising to a furious snarl--the unmistakable voice of an angry beast.
Olga stood as one petrified, feeling the arm around her tighten to a grip, but too lost in horror to take any note thereof. Staring widely into the darkness before them, she saw two points of light, red, ominous, advancing as it were by swift stealth out of the deep shadow.
At the same moment, Noel by a sudden, wholly unexpected movement thrust her behind him.
"Go!" he said. "Go for your life! Get back to Tinker and warn the rest!
I'll keep the brute from following you."
His voice was short and authoritative; it held compulsion. In that moment of emergency he was a boy no longer, but a man, cool and strong and undismayed--a man to command obedience.
"Go quickly!" he said. "Remember it's up to you to warn them. This other is my job. Good-bye!"
He spoke without turning his head; yet the very brevity of his speech seemed to give her strength. Mechanically, she moved to obey.
Later she never remembered pa.s.sing out of that place of horror. She went, hardly knowing what she did. The sudden smiting of the sunshine between the cypress boughs was the first she knew of having left the temple behind her. As one stricken blind, she moved, too stunned for panic.
And then--how it happened she was utterly unable to realize--as if he had dropped from the sky a man stood suddenly in her path.
He wore a pith helmet dragged forward over his eyes, and she was too dazzled by the sun to see his face. But there was something--something in his gait, his figure, his att.i.tude--that sent a wild thrill through her, waking her to vivid, pulsing life. With an incoherent cry she clutched him by the arm.
"The tiger!" she gasped. "The tiger!"
"Where?" he said.
She pointed back over her shoulder, her eyes dilated, anguished. "In the temple,--and Noel is there! He will be killed!"
In a single movement he had freed his arm and was gone. She heard his feet racing over the stones, and she turned up her face to the blinding sunshine and frantically prayed....
Minutes--or could it have been only seconds?--pa.s.sed. From below her came Tinker's frightened neigh. She could hear him stamping in the undergrowth. But she had no further thought of going to him. That spot with all its terrors held her chained.
Suddenly from behind her there came a loud report--a nerve-shattering sound. She whizzed round. He had a gun, then. She had not seen that he had a gun.
But what had happened? What? What? She was trembling so that she could barely stand, yet she forced her quaking limbs to move. Back she stumbled, back through the glaring sunlight. Once she fell, and saw a lizard--or was it a scorpion?--flick from her path. And then she was up again, panting, sobbing, utterly unnerved, but struggling with all her failing strength to reach the ruined temple, to see for herself what lay there.
An awful silence brooded across the stony s.p.a.ce. It was as though a curse had fallen upon it. She tried to lift her voice, to call to Noel, to make some sound in the stillness. But her throat was powerless.
She thought he must be dead. She thought that her brain had tricked her, that she had only dreamed of the coming of the second man, had dreamed of the gun-shot, had dreamed all but those dreadful gleaming eyes coming stealthily nearer and nearer out of the dark.
Again she tried to call, and again piteously she failed. She reached the temple staggering, her hands stretched gropingly before her. And even as she did so, the silence was rent by a sound that convinced her wholly that she was indeed dreaming--a sound that echoed and echoed through the gloom, making her pulses leap again in spite of her--the sound of a ringing British laugh.