The Zone of Fire

Front matter

BY HEADON HILL Author of " Guilty Gold," " _7i£ Rajah's Second Wife," &c., &c. London C. ARTHUR PEARSON LIMITED HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE i. "Gordon's last stand" . . .1 II. THE QUEEN'S SHILLING ... 18 III. AT THE FEONT . . . . .37 IV. SHOT FROM BEHIND ... 48 V. THE MISSING CARTRIDGE . . .59 VI. THE STRONGHOLD OF KHEYL ABOR . 75 VII. "INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH". . . 90 VIII. " FOR VALOUR " . . . . 107 X. HOST OR JAILOR? .... 124 X. THE COURT-MARTIAL . . . 135 XI. AT THE RAILWAY HUT .... 150 XII. THE NICHE IN THE WINDING STAIR . 164 XIII. THE COMPACT ..... 178 XIV. MUSTAPHA BEN EZRAK . . . 192 XV. UNDER COVER OF THE NIGHT . . . 209 XVI. AMOS MEARS BECOMES A PERSONAGE . vi CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE XVII. A CHANGE OF POLICY . 241 XVIII. MR. WILD, THE MISSIONARY . . 248 XIX. A LAST RESOURCE .... 260 XX.

A DUEL OF WITS .... 276 XXI. THE WHISPER OF CRIME . . . 293 XXII. UNMASKED .... 306 XXIII. A DESERT " TRANSFORMATION SCENE " . 321 XXIV. LORD BELSIZE .... 338 XXV. THE SHEIKH'S JUSTICE . . . 351 XXVI. TO DIE AT SUNSET . . . 367 XXVII. THE REVELATION OF AMOS MEARS . . 383 XXVIII. " THE KITES OF THE DESERT " . . 398 XXIX. GATHERED THREADS ....

Chapter I

" GORDON'S LAST STAND " 1~T is at one of the great variety theatres in -*- Leicester Square that the curtain rises on this our drama. The house was crammed with the smartest of smart audiences. A great patriotic wave had recently swept over the country, and the regular frequenters of the palatial resort were largely augmented by numbers of the general public, eager to see the grand military spectacle that figured in the bill as " Gordon's Last Stand." Two men sat in a private box, watching the per formance with a keen criticism that was rapidly changing to contemptuous amusement. Both were tall and well-set-up, with the indescribable stamp that marks the British officer, one being about five and-thirty, and the other some ten years younger. " This is too silly ! " exclaimed the latter, lowering his opera-glass with a gesture of disgust.

" The management has sacrificed veracity for effect with a vengeance. Every one knows that Gordon had no English troops with him when he died." The scene was intended to represent part of the palace at Khartoum, with Gordon standing at the head of the staircase, surrounded by half-a-dozen soldiers in the uniform of a British line regiment. At the foot of the stairs clamoured a howling mob of Dervishes in the act of rushing to the final attack. Their leader was an undoubted Arab of the Soudan, but the realism of the scene was spoilt by his followers being palpably disguised " supers." The "soldiers," too, who were defending the central figure were neither more nor less than a bevy of pretty girls. " Pshaw, man ! You didn't expect to find the real thing here, did you?" replied Captain Lucas Charters, the elder of the two occupants of the box, keeping his lorgnette levelled at the stage.

" These shows are all pretty much alike — designed to present the female form divine in attractive garbs and poses. You must have been a juggins if you came to Leices ter Square to gratify your professional instincts." There was the faintest tinge of a sneer in the words, spoken though they were in a tone of abstrac tion due to the absorbing interest which the fair bodyguard seemed to possess for Captain Charters. His companion, Dick McAlmont, was, however, far too good-natured himself to notice it. " At any rate, that black fellow with the spear is "GOEDON'S LAST STAND" 3 the genuine article," he said. "Abd Ul-Zook, an Arab Sheikh, who is suspected with good reason of being one of Gordon's actual murderers." He quoted from the playbill before him. But Charters made no direct reply. He had apparently reached some conclusion for which he had been striving, for he shut his glass with a snap and rose from his seat, all trace of his recent abstraction gone.

"Look here, old chap," he said; " there is a girl whom I used to know playing in this spectacle. I shall try and get behind and see her, for I should like to renew the acquaintance. You won't mind my leaving you for a while?" McAlmont nodded a careless assent, and after Charters had left the box, sat lazily watching the performance. The scene, which was little more than a tableau in dumb show, was soon over. The Dervishes made their rush up the stairs; the body guard went through some mimic evolutions with the bayonet, and fell in graceful attitudes around the counterfeit of Gordon, who was then speared by the imported Arab leader. Upon which the curtain fell amid thunders of applause. McAlmont was examining his programme to see what the next " turn " was to be, when the door of the box was suddenly opened and a young fellow of about his own age entered, greeting him with evident pleasure.

The new-comer was slightly built, and of not more than average height, but his frank, open countenance shone with the glow of health, and his supple, muscular frame spoke eloquently of a liberal athletic training. A fine type of the young English country gentleman would have been the verdict of any one setting eyes on the Honourable Lionel Heathcote for the first time. " Why, Lionel, old boy, this is a bit of luck ! Who would have thought of meeting you here ! " exclaimed McAlmont, rising to grasp his friend by the hand. " Sit down and tell us all about yourself. I am up for a night from Aldershot with Charters of ours, but he has left me to go after some girl he spotted on the stage. He won't be back for a bit." " I know you are with Charters," said Heathcote rather gravely. " I saw you from the stalls, and was afraid that I should not get a chance to speak to you.

I am not very partial to Captain Lucas Charters, perhaps you will remember. But when he went away it was all right, and I came up. Your regiment is under orders for Egypt, is it not ? " "Yes, to Cairo first; but later we hope to move southwards, and have a turn-up with the Arabs," was the reply. " Do you happen to know if Colonel Vereker takes his family with him ? " asked Heathcote eagerly. " There are no secrets between us, Dick, and you know why I want the information." Yes ; Mrs. and Miss Vereker are going with him "GOBDON'S LAST STAND" 5 as far as Cairo," replied McAlmont. " If we form part of the contemplated expedition they will remain there while the Colonel is absent on service. I am afraid that this is no good news for you, old chap ; but then you see the separation will not really be more complete than at present."

Heathcote remained silent for some seconds, his eyes fixed on a comic singer who had now appeared, but his thoughts were evidently busy elsewhere. At length he said : " I don't know that your news is otherwise than good, Dick. It has at least decided me on a course which may possibly lessen the separation between Constance Vereker and myself. In short, I mean to go to Egypt, and trust to luck to put an end to existing circumstances." "By Jove! and defy your governor?" cried McAlmont, in some excitement. " I have done that already," said Lionel. " We came to loggerheads last week. He insisted on my proposing to Miss Vansittart, the rich American, and when I told him that I would marry no one but Constance he turned me out of the house. I have been living in diggings in Bury Street since." " I trust his lordship hasn't cut short supplies as well," said Dick, with the privilege of old friendship.

" That would be awkward if you are contemplating an Egyptian tour. Look here, old chap," he went on, in the halting manner of an Englishman wishing to proffer a kindness, "if you are in a tight place over money you mustn't mind coming to me, you know." "I don't anticipate any trouble in getting to Egypt," said Heathcote evasively ; and then, seeing that McAlmont looked hurt, he added quickly, "but you may be very sure, Dick, that if I have to beg from any one it will be from you." " I shall hold you to that," replied McAlmont. " My long minority has accumulated cash far beyond my needs, and I even lend it to men with whom I am on quite ordinary terms. Why, Charters has touched me for a considerable amount, and between you and me, Dick, he's a chap I'm not particularly fond of. But he's my captain, and it makes things run smoother to be civil to him."

"I'm glad you share my dislike for that man," said Lionel. " Tell me, does he continue to pester Constance with his unwelcome attentions?" " I fear he does," was the reply. " But, though our good-natured Colonel seems to favour him, he certainly doesn't make much progress with Miss Vereker. I don't think you need worry on that head, Lionel." " The blackguard ! " exclaimed Heathcote angrily. " I shouldn't so much mind honest rivalry. What riles me is that while he is paying court to such a girl as Constance he can so far insult her as to go philandering behind the scenes of a theatre after some variety artiste or other." GORDON'S LAST STAND" 7 A crash of music from the orchestra heralded a fresh " turn," and while the two young men give a momentary attention to the stage, it will be well to present them a little more formally.

Lionel Heath cote, who was the only son of Lord Belsize, had been Dick McAlmont's particular chum at Eton. Dick, on leaving school, had gone into the army, by some strange freak of fortune joining the " Royal Pioneers "—a regiment commanded by Colonel Loftus Vereker, the lifelong enemy of his friend Heathcote's father. The feud between Colonel Vereker and Lord Belsize was a hereditary one, based on a disputed boundary between their two estates, which adjoined amid the pleasant beech woods of Bucks. The Colonel stood up for his rights, as he deemed them to have been handed down to him by his father ; so did the peer, the result being that the neighbours of Winston Hall and Fairholt Grange were not on speaking terms. During his boyhood Lionel Heathcote had not even seen the Verekers, for the simple reason that, as Colonel Vereker preferred to have his family with him in quarters, his place, Winston Hall, had been let to strangers.

If it had not been for the coincidence of his friendship for Dick McAlmont it is very probable that Lionel would never have met his fate in Constance Vereker, the Colonel's daughter. As it was, the meeting was brought about in the most natural manner. Dick, anxious to see his old FIRE 8 school chum after two years' separation, invited Lionel to stay with him in his quarters at Devon port, and, during the visit, at some regimental fete, effected an introduction which was to have far reaching consequences. Lionel Heathcote and Constance Vereker fell in love with each other on sight, and so quickly did the young people manage the affair that they had sworn to be faithful one to the other before they realised that they were enact ing the roles of Romeo and Juliet. For when Lord Belsize was made aware of his son's attachment he threatened to disinherit him if he persisted in it.

Colonel Vereker was equally obdurate, and forbade his daughter to hold any communication with her lover. Lionel immediately avowed himself willing to brave his father's displeasure ; but, on the other hand, Constance, who was devoted to her father, declined to take any step that would give him pain. Thus in the two years that had elapsed since the Devonport visit, Lionel had had to content himself with such stray news of his sweetheart as was con tained in Dick's none too frequent letters. And now an unexpected crisis in his affairs had been precipi tated by his father's sudden demand that he should propose to the American heiress, and by his own refusal to wed any one but Constance Vereker. Though his pride prevented him from telling Dick his true position, he found himself in a tight place.

He reckoned that after he had paid all his just debts, he would have £23 left, and no prospect of getting any more. Lord Belsize had told him not to expect any pecuniary aid till he was willing to conform to the parental wish, and this be had no intention whatever of doing. In a week or two the shoe would begin to pinch, and of any practical method of earning a decent living he was entirely ignorant. A course of Eton and Continental travel, when capi tal and interest suddenly fail, is not of much use as a prelude to a struggle for existence. All this, when he spied Dick McAlmont in the private box, he had thought out already, and his mind, more than half made up, was finally settled by what Dick told him. Constance was going to Egypt with the regiment, and he would go too — in the only way possible to him.

On the morrow he would enlist as a private in the Royal Pioneers. In coming to this decision Lionel was guided by his own tastes as well as by a desire to be near Constance, for he knew that as a private soldier he would be doubly debarred from communicating with her. It was the determination to win higher rank, and eventually a commission, that chiefly prompted him to the step. Through no fault of his own he had not been brought up to any profession, but he would enter the profession to which he had always had most inclination by the only door now open to him. It should not be his fault if the back stairs FIEE did not lead him to the front landing. A campaign gave a thousand chances, and any discomfort he might have to suffer from the life of the barrack room would be amply compensated by one important factor — if he might not speak to, he would at any rate sometimes see her to whom his heart was given.

At length, anxious to be gone before Charters returned to the box, he rose and took a careless leave of Dick McAlmont, who made another futile attempt to learn his plans definitely. " I can say no more at present than that you are almost certain to see me in Egypt," he replied. " Take care of yourself till our next merry meeting." " Good old Dick," added Lionel, sotto voce, as he made his way to the door of the exit, leaving McAlmont to wait impatiently for Charters. " He little thinks that when that same merry meeting comes off I shall have to salute him as my officer. Time enough, though, to undeceive him when it is too late to draw back." The idea of having to salute Dick pleased his fancy, and it was with a smile on his lips that he passed out into the square. In the meanwhile Captain Lucas Charters had succeeded in finding an attendant willing, for a consideration, to take his card to one of the artistes playing in the military spectacle.

"What is the lady's name, sir?" said the man, pocketing the coin tendered to him. " Sheldon — Bessie Sheldon — though as I have not seen her since she took to this sort of thing I can't be sure that she is playing under her own name," said Charters. "That's all right, sir; I know Miss Sheldon," replied the attendant. " One of the bodyguard in the Khartoum scene. She goes by her own name. Hasn't got to be such a swell yet as to want a high sounding alias." He led the way round to the back of the theatre, and, asking Charters to wait, passed through a swing door into the mystic regions behind the scenes. The curtain had just fallen on the "spectacle," and Charters caught a glimpse of the performers hurrying to their dressing-rooms, careless of the thunders of applause in front. Scarlet uniforms flitted hither and thither in the dingy passage, and the swarthy figure of Abd Ul-Zook stalked into momentary view from the wings, as the door swung to a final stand still.

Waiting on the threshold, Charters rapidly re viewed the circumstances of his previous acquaintance with Bessie Sheldon. They were none too creditable to himself, and to relate them in full would entail the repetition of a story as old as man's deceit and trusting woman's love. Suffice it to say that there had been a promise of marriage, ruthlessly broken when it had served its purpose, followed by the cruel desertion of its unhappy victim on her FIBE refusing to continue the alliance on the only terms which Charters would accord. That the man felt no shame at the thought of the weeping girl whom he had left in a seaside town, bereft of friends and nearly penniless, will give as good a key to his character as could be desired. " The little monkey," he mused, as he leaned against the wall of the corridor.

"Her accepting employment of this kind certainly betokens a less puritanical frame of mind. I wasn't anything like tired of her when she turned refractory, and if she is more complacent now it will suit me very well to renew the acquaintance." Presently the messenger returned, and signed to him to follow. " Miss Sheldon will see you, sir," said the man. " As she hasn't a private dressing room I'll put you into that of the Arab chief. Abd Ul-Zook doesn't need any make-up, and he has cleared out already. That will suit you better, I expect, than seeing the lady before three or four others." He opened the door of one of the smaller private dressing-rooms, to which, as one of the principal attractions on the bill, Abd Ul-Zook was entitled, and left Charters with an intimation that Miss Sheldon would come to him as soon as she had changed into her walking-dress.

Charters employed the interval of waiting in looking round the barely furnished apartment, in which there was little else " GOBDON'S LAST STAND " 13 than a tin washstand and a rouge-stained table surmounted by a looking-glass. Suddenly his eyes were arrested by a sparkling glitter from some object lying on the table, and his curiosity being aroused, he went over to examine it more closely. It proved to be a formidable knife of evidently Eastern manufacture, contained in a velvet sheath encrusted with precious gems. It was the gleam of the latter that had attracted his attention. " Master Fuzzy- Wuzzy has left one of his tools behind him," muttered Charters, inspecting the weapon with the eye of a connoisseur. " The ways of a West End music-hall must come strange to the beggar after slitting throats in the Soudan.

I wonder if he means to go back to the old trade when he has made his pile. Perhaps he will invest his Leicester Square profits in the purchase of a harem, or sink it in the slave-trade." His cynical reflections were cut short by the sound of footsteps outside, and he replaced the knife on the table. A moment later the door opened, and a tall girl entered, her well-poised head thrown back a little in an attitude of alert defiance. Her eyes, of a deep brown, shone with a fire that could not be wholly accounted for by the mimic warfare in which she had just been engaged. Charters went forward to meet her with both his hands extended, but she put her own behind her back. " Not till I know your object in seeking me," she FIEE began hotly. " Have you come to make amends and to fulfil your promise ?

In that case, though I can never respect you, I am willing to let bygones be bygones." She waited for his answer with an eagerness that was painful in its intensity, but Lucas Charters was not the man on that account to hurry himself. Rather did he seem to derive amusement from he. excitement. "Good! That sounds promising," he said. "If you are willing to marry me still, you can't hate me so very much, Bessie." " It's no question of hatred or of love ! " cried the girl, stamping her foot impatiently. " Do not keep me in suspense — are you come to redeem your promise ? " "Well, hardly — so far as the marriage tie is con cerned," replied Charters, with irritating coolness. " The truth is, I only happened to be in the theatre, and saw you quite by accident. I hadn't the slightest idea that you had adopted the variety stage as a pro fession, but arguing therefrom that you might be in a more friendly mood than when your — shall we call them high spirits ? — drove me to leave you, I came round."

They stood facing each other by the dressing table, both of them so occupied with the matter in hand that they did not notice that at this point the door was softly opened. For the fraction of a second a dark face, surmounted by a snowy bernouse, peered in, and then the door was as softly pulled to again. But instead of being shut tight it remained slightly ajar. "Then you mean to tell me that, relying on the nature of my employment, you thought to be received by me on the old footing?" said Bessie. Though she advanced a pace, she had become sud denly very quiet, and a dangerous light shone in her eyes. Charters began to be sorry that he had sought her out, and decided to devote his further diplomacy to getting away without a scene. Luckily, he thought, he had an excuse with more or less truth in it ready to hand, and he hastened to put it forward.

"My dear girl, nothing is farther from my wish than to say or do anything that would be unpleasant to you," he said, in a tone intended to be conciliatory. " But as to marriage, it would be equally impossible if you were the best-dowered heiress in the American market. My regiment is under orders for Egypt. The authorities are keeping their intentions pretty dark, so as to take the Dervishes by surprise ; but there is little doubt that we are meant for active service in the Soudan. We are to smash the com patriots of your worthy colleague Abd Ul-Zook at last, and the process is not likely to be adapted to honeymoon purposes." At the reference to the coming campaign the door FIBE quivered ever so slightly, as though some one standing there were struck with sudden emotion or surprise ; but, all unheeding, Bessie Sheldon answered — "I want no honeymoons, Lucas.

Give me the right of self-respect — the legal right to use your name — and I shall never ask for maintenance or for your society. I can earn my own living, as I am doing now." For the first time there was a trace of womanly entreaty in her voice, and Charters was quick to take advantage of it. " I daresay you would find my name very useful," he said ; " but, you see, I don't care to have it dragged about in the mire of music-halls, and — possibly other places, Bessie. Ask me something easier, my dear." Hardly were the brutal words spoken, when the exasperated girl sprang forward and snatched the jewelled knife from the dressing-table. Drawing the glittering blade from the sheath, in another moment she would have plunged it into the false heart of the man before her ; but as her hand was poised for the stroke, her wrist was clutched in a grip as of iron, and a guttural voice rang in her ears — " Give me the knife, missee.

Leave the carrion to the kites of the desert — whither he is bound." And, looking round, the disputants saw the white swathed, sinewy form of Abd Ul-Zook towering over them. If the tableau could have been presented on the stage instead of in the dressing-room it would indeed have " brought down the house " — the shrink ing, frightened Englishman, the infuriated girl, and the calm, unmoved Arab quietly asserting the rights of property over his forgotten knife. With a choking sob Bessie yielded up the weapon, and Abd Ul-Zook placed it in his silken sash. Then he motioned Charters to the door, accompanying his imperious gesture with the one word — "Go!" "Yes!" cried Bessie; "go to your doom out yonder. I have been baulked to-night, but I will follow you, if need be, to the ends of the earth, and kill you like the cur you are."

The next day some excitement was caused in theatrical circles by the withdrawal, without notice, of the grand military spectacle from the big house in Leicester Square, it being understood that the principal attraction, the Arab Sheikh, had broken his engagement and disappeared, thereby robbing the scene of its chief interest. It was supposed that he had formed a sudden determination to return to his own country. Another report said that the management was further hampered by the defection of one of the ladies playing in the bodyguard, who had also thrown up her part and gone no one knew whither.

Chapter II The Queen's Shilling Up

and down the broad pavement in front of the National Gallery paced a recruiting ser geant of the Royal Pioneers, his head erect, and his shoulders squared in a truly martial swagger. From the top of his natty helmet to the soles of his well-polished ammunition boots, Sergeant Devenish not only looked, but showed that he knew that he looked, a smart man. For that reason was he chosen for recruiting duty, and because of a certain sympathetic magnetism of manner which attracted the casual passer-by. Even before he opened his lips his whole appearance seemed to breathe the sentiment: "Such as I am you may become if you will only listen to my seductive advances." In raking in the unemployed from Whitechapel, and Hodge from the country, such an attribute was invaluable. In these short-service days the sergeant might ia fairly be considered an old soldier.

He had put in fifteen years with the colours, and, as he had en listed at the age of twenty, he was well on the sunny side of forty. On his broad chest was affixed the Egyptian medal, for he had burned powder in Lord Wolseley's Nile expedition, taking part in Sir Charles Wilson's gallant but fruitless dash for Khartoum. Sergeant Devenish was on exceedingly good terms with himself this morning. On the previous day he had made a record performance. Up to then, with orders to procure twenty men, he had, after a week's work, enlisted but five of them ; but yester day, whether it was that the planet Mars was extra propitious, or his silvery tongue more than usually persuasive, he had taken in no less than a baker's dozen, leaving him only two more to reach the required number. And it added zest to the proceeding that he had bested his great rival at the game — Sergeant Clamp of the Hussars — by annexing the most promising recruit of the day before the eyes of that astute practitioner.

The cavalry sergeant was out again now, and, meeting him, Devenish could not forbear a little mild chaff as they stopped on the curb for a chat. " Ah, and it wasn't only quantity, there was quality as well," he remarked. "Look at that last chap as I took before we struck for the day — him as you was so sweet on yourself, Clamp. He might have been a duke in disguise, and as sound and as hard as nails, too, which ain't always the way with dukes." " That was just why I passed him on to you," retorted the unblushing but secretly mortified cavalryman. " I spotted him for a toff soon as I saw him, for all his shabby get-up, and I'm not taking any gentlemen-rankers, Sergeant Devenish, thank you. Uppish in the barrack-room, slovenly on parade, and for everlasting scheming after a commission — that is my verdict on that kind of cattle."

And Sergeant Clamp slashed savagely at his boot with his riding-whip, as though to annihilate the whole race of gentlemen privates. Devenish laughed outright, knowing very well the real object of his rival's wrath, and was about to make some reply which should embody a reference to " sour grapes," when his quick eye was caught by a figure crossing the road towards them. It was that of a typical cockney loafer, who might have been anything from an habitual criminal to a tenth-rate City clerk out of work long enough to have gone to seed. The sallow, pasty face seemed almost overbalanced by the large bright eyes, at once inquisitive and impudent, that peered from under a battered bowler hat a size too large for its owner. A threadbare overcoat, green with age, and buttoned to the collarless throat to hide the lack of shirt, formed the strange being's principal article of attire.