Page:Weird Tales volume 30 number 01.djvu/86

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WEIRD TALES

Rats! Huge, dirty, horrible rats! Bounding, famished creatures of an enormous size that brought a shudder from the watchers, leaped and snarled in that terrible pit. The slippery sides of the ten-foot depth prevented them from emerging, though the rodents were constantly attempting the hopeless climb. Sharpened spikes had been driven into the bottom rocks, while the brilliant lights above plainly showed the twinkling eyes, the red maws and sharp teeth of the rolling brown mass. This then was the dread pit so feared by the inmates of the castle.

The sneering Zola could not resist the temptation of a final taunt at the condemned man, who, now stripped of all garments and with naked arms lashed firmly to his sides, stood looking in wild-eyed terror into the pit into which he would so soon be plunged.

"Three hundred of them, Captain! Three hundred with sharp teeth and no food for two days! You will find them appreciative of your company," the fiend laughed.

Of all the heartless gathering, the physician alone seemed unperturbed. White-robed Arabs, wide-eyed and nervous, looked silently on. The four black jailers were visibly affected by the awful din. Even the Pharaoh was somber and serious as he silently motioned the slaves to continue.

A long chain was now firmly attached to the legs of the Russian, who, despite his pleadings, was swung head foremost and quickly lowered into the pit. At the appearance of the nude body, the snarls increased to a deafening roar. Squealing rats, now standing upright in anticipation, awaited the gleaming flesh. And even as I closed my eyes to turn from the horrible scene, the screaming victim was hurried to his awful destruction.


15. The Enchantress of Sin

The swarthy hordes of Karamour left at dawn. As the sun rose, I stood on the balcony watching the Arabs mount their splendid beasts and form a long line behind a white horse held by a waiting black.

There was no shouting or carefree laughter now. All mirth and revelry had been replaced by tightening jaws and determined faces that well showed the desperate ride expected by these desert nomads. Wordless, they held the eager steeds and awaited their leader. The lonely waste of water in the west formed a sparkling background.

While I watched the mounted horde with wondering silence, a tall figure strode from the gardens to the waiting horse. It was Karamour.

As the lithe body swung into the saddle, his gaze fell full upon me. Instantly the dark face lighted.

"Remember well my warning of last night, oh stranger," he shouted. "To escape means capture, and capture means certain death!"

Then, with a wild whoop and a command to the Arabs, the last of the Pharaohs set spurs to his horse and dashed over the sand dunes to the south, while behind him, their long white robes fluttering in the morning winds, came his savage band of cutthroat followers.

As the last of the Arabs rode into the distant blue, a peal of feminine laughter rang from the towering turrets, a long-drawn-out laugh of scornful derision that was followed by a foul oath.

Late that afternoon I had put my newly proclaimed liberty to use, and descending the great stairs, casually passed the two guards at the terrace door to saunter out into the gardens beyond.

I wandered through the delightful fairyland that had been transplanted to