第 43 节
作者:击水三千      更新:2021-02-18 22:45      字数:9322
  saw   a   tall;   broad…shouldered   man   riding   in   from   distant   fields;   she   saw
  herself   waiting   to   greet   him   with   an   armful   of   fresh…cut   roses   from   the
  bushes which flanked the little rustic gate before her。 All this was gone;
  vanished into the past; wiped out by the torches and bullets and hatred of
  these    hideous     and    degenerate      men。    With      a  stifled   sob;   and   a   little
  shudder;   Jane   Clayton   turned   back   into   her   tent   and   sought   the   pile   of
  unclean   blankets   which   were   her   bed。   Throwing   herself   face   downward
  upon them she sobbed forth her misery until kindly sleep brought her; at
  least temporary; relief。
  And while she slept a figure stole from the tent that stood to the right
  of   hers。   It   approached   the   sentry   before   the   doorway   and   whispered   a
  few words in the man's ear。            The latter nodded; and strode off through the
  darkness in the direction of his own blankets。 The figure passed to the rear
  of Jane   Clayton's tent   and   spoke   again to the  sentry  there;  and this   man
  also left; following in the trail of the first。
  Then   he   who   had   sent   them   away   stole   silently   to   the   tent   flap   and
  untying   the   fastenings   entered   with   the   noiselessness   of   a   disembodied
  spirit。
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  21
  The Flight to the Jungle
  Sleepless   upon   his   blankets; Albert   Werper   let   his   evil   mind   dwell
  upon     the   charms    of   the  woman      in  the   nearby    tent。  He     had   noted
  Mohammed Beyd's sudden interest in the girl; and judging the man by his
  own   standards;  had   guessed   at the   basis   of   the Arab's   sudden   change   of
  attitude toward the prisoner。
  And as he let his imaginings run riot they aroused within him a bestial
  jealousy     of  Mohammed         Beyd;   and    a  great  fear   that  the  other   might
  encompass       his   base   designs   upon    the  defenseless     girl。  By    a  strange
  process     of  reasoning;     Werper;    whose    designs    were    identical   with   the
  Arab's;     pictured    himself    as   Jane    Clayton's    protector;    and    presently
  convinced himself that the attentions which might seem hideous to her if
  proffered by Mohammed Beyd; would be welcomed from Albert Werper。
  Her husband was dead; and Werper fancied that he could replace in the
  girl's   heart   the   position   which   had   been   vacated   by   the   act   of   the   grim
  reaper。     He could offer Jane Clayton marriagea thing which Mohammed
  Beyd would not offer; and which the girl would spurn from him with as
  deep disgust as she would his unholy lust。
  It   was   not   long   before   the   Belgian    had   succeeded     in  convincing
  himself that the   captive not   only had   every reason   for having   conceived
  sentiments of love for him; but that she had by various feminine methods
  acknowledged her new…born affection。
  And then a sudden resolution possessed him。                He threw the blankets
  from   him   and   rose   to   his   feet。 Pulling   on   his   boots   and   buckling   his
  cartridge belt and revolver about his hips he stepped to the flap of his tent
  and looked out。       There was no sentry before the entrance to the prisoner's
  tent!    What could it mean?         Fate was indeed playing into his hands。
  Stepping outside he passed to the rear of the girl's tent。            There was no
  sentry   there;   either!    And   now;   boldly;   he   walked   to   the   entrance   and
  stepped within。
  Dimly the moonlight illumined the interior。              Across the tent a figure
  bent   above   the   blankets   of   a   bed。   There   was   a   whispered   word;   and
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  another figure rose from the blankets to a sitting position。                  Slowly Albert
  Werper's eyes were becoming accustomed to the half darkness of the tent。
  He   saw   that   the   figure   leaning   over   the   bed   was   that   of   a   man;   and   he
  guessed at the truth of the nocturnal visitor's identity。
  A sullen; jealous rage enveloped him。               He took a step in the direction
  of   the   two。   He   heard   a   frightened   cry  break   from  the   girl's   lips   as   she
  recognized   the   features   of   the   man   above   her;   and   he   saw   Mohammed
  Beyd seize her by the throat and bear her back upon the blankets。
  Cheated passion cast a red blur before the eyes of the Belgian。                       No!
  The   man   should   not   have   her。      She   was   for   him   and   him   alone。      He
  would not be robbed of his rights。
  Quickly   he   ran   across   the   tent   and   threw   himself   upon   the   back   of
  Mohammed          Beyd。      The    latter;  though     surprised     by   this  sudden     and
  unexpected attack; was not one to give up without a battle。                   The Belgian's
  fingers were feeling for his throat; but the Arab tore them away; and rising
  wheeled upon his adversary。             As they faced each other Werper struck the
  Arab a heavy blow in the face; sending him staggering backward。                           If he
  had followed up his advantage he would have had Mohammed Beyd at his
  mercy in another moment; but instead he tugged at his revolver to draw it
  from   its   holster;   and   Fate   ordained   that   at   that   particular   moment   the
  weapon should stick in its leather scabbard。
  Before he could disengage it; Mohammed Beyd had recovered himself
  and was dashing upon him。               Again Werper struck the other in the face;
  and   the Arab   returned   the   blow。       Striking   at   each   other   and   ceaselessly
  attempting to clinch; the two battled about the small interior of the tent;
  while the girl; wide…eyed in terror and astonishment; watched the duel in
  frozen silence。
  Again   and   again   Werper   struggled   to   draw   his   weapon。   Mohammed
  Beyd; anticipating no such opposition to his base desires; had come to the
  tent   unarmed;   except   for   a   long   knife   which   he   now   drew   as   he   stood
  panting during the first brief rest of the encounter。
  〃Dog of a Christian;〃 he whispered; 〃look upon this knife in the hands
  of Mohammed Beyd!              Look well; unbeliever; for it is the last thing in life
  that   you   shall   see   or   feel。 With   it   Mohammed   Beyd   will   cut   out   your
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  black heart。      If you have a God pray to him now in a minute more you
  shall   be   dead;〃   and   with   that   he   rushed   viciously   upon   the   Belgian;   his
  knife raised high above his head。
  Werper     was    still  dragging    futilely   at  his  weapon。      The    Arab    was
  almost upon him。          In desperation the European waited until Mohammed
  Beyd   was   all   but   against   him;   then   he   threw   himself   to   one   side   to   the
  floor of the tent; leaving a leg extended in the path of the Arab。
  The     trick    succeeded。       Mohammed           Beyd;     carried     on   by    the
  momentum         of  his   charge;    stumbled     over   the   projecting    obstacle    and
  crashed to the ground。          Instantly he was up again and wheeling to renew
  the   battle;   but   Werper   was   on   foot   ahead   of   him;   and   now   his   revolver;
  loosened from its holster; flashed in his hand。
  The Arab dove headfirst to grapple with him; there was a sharp report;
  a lurid gleam of flame in the darkness; and Mohammed Beyd rolled over
  and   over   upon   the   floor   to   come   to   a   final   rest   beside   the   bed   of   the
  woman he had sought to dishonor。
  Almost   immediately   following   the   report   came   the   sound   of   excited
  voices   in   the   camp   without。     Men   were   calling   back   and   forth   to   one
  another asking the meaning of the shot。              Werper could hear them running
  hither and thither; investigating。
  Jane Clayton had risen to her feet as the Arab died; and now she came
  forward with outstretched hands toward Werper。
  〃How can I ever thank you; my friend?〃 she asked。 〃And to think that
  only today I had almost believed the infamous story which this beast told
  me of your perfidy and of your past。              Forgive me; M。 Frec