Jimgrim - The Spy Thrillers Series. Talbot Mundy

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Jimgrim - The Spy Thrillers Series - Talbot  Mundy

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was a lantern on a chair nearby that showed his features clearly, and the first thing that struck me about him was that he was handsome, and not ill-natured.

      The scar, of which Ali Higg had boasted as having spoiled his face, was there, but not nearly so prominent as I expected. Perhaps three inches long, it crossed his right cheek as far as the nose; and though the cartilage of his nose seemed to have been severed, he had either had good luck or else the services of a skillful surgeon, for it had healed pretty neatly.

      For the rest, he was a dark-bearded man of middle height, with dark, lustrous eyes and splendid shoulders, who sat upright, with no apparent tendency to take things easy. He had a carved silver cigarette-box on the rug beside him, but no water-pipe; and though his dress was of fine material, there was no display of jewelry—no effeminacy. His hands were strong and well-shaped, moving deliberately without unnecessary twitching of the fingers.

      “Salamun alaik!” said Abrahim ben Ah bowing, very dignified.

      He murmured something in reply, and asked why we had brought our weapons.

      ”Who should take them from us? I am Ibrahim ben Ah, commander of the camel-corps of Ali Higg, the Lion of Petra.”

      “Do you come in peace?”

      “I come under the rules of warfare, relying on your honor’s honor. I come as a friend, if may be; but if my words find no approval, I shall ask permission to return as I came, unmolested.”

      The Avenger bowed his head slightly.

      “Be seated. No, not in front of me; sit this way. There, now tell me what that means.”

      He did not point; in fact, he made no unnecessary gestures. He nodded in the direction of our bonfires in the distance, and I decided that I liked him; there was something fine and manly about his bearing and whole attitude. The members of his staff were watching us from the stair-head with fingers on their triggers; but after that first question about our weapons the Avenger himself never referred to them again, nor acted as if he was aware of them.

      “Who laid those fires?” he demanded.

      “The Lion of Petra’s men,” said Ibrahim ben Ah.

      “How many men has he, then?”

      “By Allah, I haven’t counted.”

      “He has received a reinforcement?”

      “Behold! Surely a reinforcement!”

      “Whence?”

      “God give your honor long life. I am not allowed to say.”

      “Malaish. From El-Kerak, I suppose, or possibly El-Maan. What have you come for?”

      “Inshallah, to talk peace.”

      “Peace? Why peace, with such an army at your back? Peace is it, or treachery?”

      “Your honor has favored me more than once with overtures by messenger. Your honor invited me to cross over with all my men and take service under you.”

      “You propose to do that?”

      “God forbid! I have eaten the Lion’s salt. Nevertheless, I am not your honor’s enemy. It was fitting in the circumstances that I should carry offers of peace.”

      The Avenger glanced once, swiftly, at Narayan Singh and me.

      “Why do you bring Indians with you?” he demanded. That was Ibrahim ben Ah’s opportunity, if he had any idea in his head of squaring personal accounts with us two. We were simply there to keep an eye on him. A polite request to have us tossed off the roof would most likely be complied with, after which he would still be in position to go through with Grim’s plan. As for explanations afterwards, who was likely to make much fuss about the lives of a couple of Indians?

      The idea crossed his mind all right. He hesitated. Fortunately Narayan Singh and I were seated just a foot or so behind him, one on either side, in a line at right angles to the Avenger’s seat and facing the suspicious staff. The Avenger himself wasn’t looking, and none else could have seen the pistol that I thrust into Ibrahim’s ribs under cover of my cloak, nor the revolver that touched a corresponding ticklish spot on the Sikh’s side. It may be possible to mistake the feel of a pistol muzzle on a dark night, but he didn’t. He went straight ahead with the plan as Grim had outlined it, omitting nothing and introducing no personal vendettas.

      “They belong to Jimgrim’s force,” he said in a hurry. “Jimgrim sent them as his representatives.”

      “Jimgrim?” exclaimed the Avenger, startled. “Where is the man? I had news of him from the southward; it was definite.”

      “He is this side of those fires,” Ibrahim answered.

      The Avenger glanced at me incredulously, but I confirmed the statement. If our plan was going forward, it was true.

      “Why doesn’t Jimgrim come and see me, instead of keeping company with such a dog as Ali Higg?” the Avenger asked suddenly. “I have nothing against Jimgrim. Why does he consort with my enemy?”

      “He doesn’t,” I answered.

      “Where is the Lion of Petra then?—as the upstart calls himself.”

      “Possibly Jimgrim knows, but we don’t,” I answered.

      “Then is that army not marching against me?”

      “At present it stands still,” said I. “Jimgrim is doing his best to prevent hostilities.”

      “Why doesn’t he come and see me?”

      “He has not been invited; nor has he a safe-conduct.”

      “One of you go back and bring him! Let that day not come that shall see me refusing to confer with Jimgrim! He shall have fifty men to escort him safely through my lines, and if we do not agree together he shall depart in peace at dawn.”

      “Jimgrim has the task of restraining Ali Higg’s army,” I answered. “There is only one condition on which he will come.”

      “Name it.”

      “That you agree beforehand to make peace with Ali Higg, not on Ali Higg’s terms, but on Jimgrim’s.”

      “And if I refuse?”

      “Then,” said I, “your honor must deal with that army on your own responsibility. It will not be possible for Jimgrim to keep them waiting there many hours. It was only with difficulty that they were restrained from pursuing your honor’s men a while ago. Hitherto they have listened to him, but he will only dare to leave them on the condition I have named. If your honor will put in writing an agreement to make peace on Jimgrim’s terms, then he will come forward.”

      “But if he is on this side of the fires, how will that army know that I have yielded that point?” he asked suspiciously.

      “If your honor will set it down in writing, and hand the writing over to Ibrahim ben Ah, then it has been arranged that I shall make a signal that will be understood by

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