Sorez knew this was the end. But he was a good gambler; having lost all, he accepted his fate with stoicism. He kept his head clear--clear enough to do the thing which marked him a man. He squirmed about until he faced the girl. With every ounce of strength in him, he shouted his final command to her.
"Awake! Awake!"
The girl stirred uneasily. The Priest reached for his knife, not understanding.
"Awake!" repeated Sorez, and his voice quivered with the intensity of his earnestness. "Awake!"
The girl trembled and seemed to fight her way to consciousness as one after a deep dive struggles to the top. She gasped for breath. Her eyes fluttered open, closed, fluttered open again. She roused herself to a sitting posture and the image dropped from her lap. The Priest s.n.a.t.c.hed it up as the girl shrank back from him. For a moment the two stared at each other. The Priest was held motionless. Then as Sorez hitched a bit to one side, he turned to his work.
Sorez hoped for nothing but a swift end. The cruel face of the other left nothing to question, nothing else to hope. But now that the girl had shaken off the influence of the image he was easier. There was but one thing left to try, even though the eyes looking down into his hinted at nothing of mercy; he must save the girl if possible.
As the Priest bent over him, he found his voice.
"Listen to me a moment. I have nothing to ask for myself, I took my chances and I lost. But the girl here--she is innocent of even wishing for your treasure."
"Why then is she here?"
"I brought her here."
"You could not--against her will."
Sorez moistened his lips and explained: "She came on another mission.
She came in search of a father who has been long missing."
"To this lake--to this spot--with the image in her lap?"
"No--this part of it is at my prompting. She but obeyed me."
The Priest turned away impatiently. He saw the girl crouching in terror of him. He moved nearer. He saw her black eyes. They remained on his strangely immovable. He felt something of a tremor. Things about him became blurred for a moment. He shook himself free.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Sorez stared straight ahead of him in a frenzy. Then the shadow sprang, throwing his arms about the tall figure._]
"I have heard too many stories," he said.
"But, good G.o.d! you believe this," burst out Sorez. "You haven"t the heart to revenge yourself upon her? You----"
He checked himself. He knew the man would do as he most feared. This, then, was to be his punishment--to know that he had brought the girl to such an end as this--that he had won her trust and confidence and rewarded it with such torture as this demon might mete out to her. The Priest might even slay her before his eyes. He strained at the rope which bound him until it tore into his flesh. The waters played about the raft. The stars danced in the ripples.
Sorez brought himself to try once more.
"If you have a spark of pity in your heart, you will do her no harm.
Listen! I lied to the girl. I brought her here on the hope that she might find this father who has been a long time gone from home. He was a sea captain and I told her that many captains had been lost here in the mountains and been found again. I told her that I had seen her father in Bogova. That is why she came."
"To the lake?"
Sorez had but a second in which to decide. If he told the Priest of the girl"s power, the latter might slay her to bury the secret, or torture her to betray it to him. No, it would be safer to leave the Priest merely suspicious.
"As I am about to die," affirmed Sorez, solemnly, "that is G.o.d"s truth."
The Priest placed the little golden idol out of danger. Then he stooped and bound the ropes more tightly about the ankles of the prostrate man. Sorez watched him with new interest--almost with a new hope. He glanced at the girl and saw her kneeling upon the raft, her white face to the moon.
The Priest bent to fasten the rope which already bit into the flesh above the arms. It was for this Sorez had prayed. As the Priest stooped, his long coat swayed within reach of the long-waiting fingers. Sorez gripped both laps and that grip was the grip of death.
Before the Priest understood the situation, Sorez had bent his bound legs double beneath him and, gripping the tightly bound straw with his heels, shoved with all his strength towards the edge of the raft. The Priest fell atop of him, but instantly tore himself back. The fingers held. Once again Sorez hitched forward and once again the Priest came with him. In a panic the crazed Priest bore his knees down upon the prostrate man and then swung off to one side. But the fingers held.
Sorez was now lying with his head half over the edge. The silver waters lipped his gray hair. He raised his legs once more--just once more, and shoved.
He gained an inch. Then in a flash the Priest managed to stand up with Sorez still clinging. But only for a moment, when he fell backwards, striking the back of his head sharply upon the logs. The girl screamed in fright. The Priest saw the world swim before his eyes, and the next second looked up to find a woman--his own daughter--his Jo--looking back at him! But Sorez still clung and still shoved with his legs towards the edge of the boat.
"For G.o.d"s sake--what are you about?" gasped he who a moment gone had been the Priest.
Sorez saw nothing of the change. He was busy bending up his legs, digging in his heels, and shoving.
"Father! Father!"
Sorez had heard the cry before. He felt the girl beating at him with her white hands. The raft was beginning to settle. In the heavy fall of the two men a section had been loosened so that now it might possibly hold two of them--no more. The girl realized this; the man realized this. Sorez knew nothing save his determination to drag the Priest to the bottom with him.
"Let him go!" shouted the girl. "Let him go! He is my father! Can"t you hear?"
The words penetrated just as he was about to shove once more.
"Your father?"
"Quick! We are sinking!"
He let go. The Priest sprang to his feet. The canoe had gone and the loosely constructed raft was settling as timber after timber freed itself. Sorez, himself again, saw this. Without a word he shoved once more,--this time himself alone. He went down and the raft floated. He had kept his word after all; he had given the girl her father.
CHAPTER XXVI
_A Lucky Bad Shot_
As soon as they recovered sufficient strength to desire anything more of life than rest for their bruised and weary bodies, Wilson a.s.sumed command of the situation. He saw nothing but a straight path to the girl.
"We must get down to the lake," he said firmly. "Get down there and find Sorez. If the natives are up in arms, I want to be near the girl.
I"m going to take her out of here. If the others refuse to join us, we"ll take her alone and make a dash for it."
"We oughter get our provisions first," suggested Stubbs.
"No--what strength we have left is for her."
"We"ll have twice as much with grub."
"And we"ll have less time."
Wilson"s jaw was set. To go down the mountain and back would take at least four hours and leave them even nearer dead than they were at present. Aside from that, the desire to see the girl had become an obsession. He was no longer amenable to reason. He felt the power to dominate. In the last two days he had learned that there are at least two essential things in life--two things a man has a right to take where he finds them--love and water. The two lay at his feet now and he would wait no longer. His heart burned with as hot a thirst as his throat. Neither Sorez nor gold nor all the brown men in the universe should balk him of them longer.