فصل 34

CHAPTER 34

THE BORROWED CAMEL

MOLLY AND GEORGE found it more difficult than they expected to get off the Michelle. Leonard Aster, well aware of Molly’s tendency to take matters into her own hands, had left orders with Captain Stavis that the two children were to be watched closely, and Captain Stavis had relayed these orders to the crew.

But sailors being sailors, and a port being close at hand, it was not long before the crew became distracted. By the second evening, Molly and George, having waited impatiently all day, saw their chance to sneak off. As darkness fell, with the crew dozing after a bit too much food and grog, they sneaked onto the ship’s deserted main deck and tiptoed down the gangway to the dock.

Once ashore, they ducked behind a huge pile of traps next to a stone building; the traps reeked of dead fish.

“Now what?” whispered George.

“One thing for sure,” said Molly. “We must get away from these awful traps.”

“We can’t go ’round in these clothes,” said George. “We need robes, like the one your father wore.”

Molly nodded. “I saw laundry lines from the ship, by a big house up that way. We can borrow some robes.”

“Borrow?” said George.

“Desperate times,” said Molly, “call for desperate measures.”

“What does that mean?” said George.

“It’s an expression my father uses: it means sometimes you have to borrow a robe,” said Molly. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out some coins, the last of the French money her mother had given her. “Besides, we’ll leave this as partial payment. Come on.”

The streets were nearly empty, as most of Ashmar was having supper; nevertheless, Molly and George kept to the narrow alleys as they moved away from the harbor and up a hill, their mouths watering as the aroma of cooking wafted out of every house they passed.

“There,” Molly whispered. Just ahead was a whitewashed stone house, much larger than its neighbors, with a fine view of the harbor. Along the side of the house was a clothesline, on which hung a half dozen white robes. Next to the clothesline, kneeling in a patch of dirt and contentedly chewing its cud, was a camel.

Molly and George looked around. The street was deserted. With nightfall now complete, they crept in darkness around the side of the house, took the two smallest-looking robes off the clothesline, and put them on. George’s fit fine; Molly’s was too large, but she rolled and tucked it until it was serviceable. When they were dressed, Molly put the coins on a stone next to the clothesline and whispered, “Let’s go.”

George didn’t move. He was looking at the camel.

“Why don’t we borrow this as well?” he whispered.

“Are you insane?” hissed Molly.

“Molly, we’ve got to go miles across the desert,” George said. “On foot it could take us forever.”

“But we don’t know how to ride a camel.”

“It’s got a sort of saddle,” said George, eyeing the wooden contraption strapped to the camel’s back. “How different can it be from a horse?”

Molly frowned. She didn’t like the idea of taking a camel—stealing was the word for it, she knew—but they were desperate. She had to find her father and Peter.

“All right,” she said.

Quickly, George untied the camel. Then he and Molly climbed into the saddle, wedging themselves in, George in front and Molly in back. George dug his heels into the camel’s sides and said, “Up!”

Slowly, the camel turned its head and looked back with an expression of what appeared to be annoyance. It turned its head forward again and resumed chewing its cud.

“Fine bit of horsemanship,” said Molly.

“I suppose you can do better,” said George.

“I’m not the one who said he could ride a camel,” said Molly.

George, irritated now, brought his legs out farther and kicked the camel hard. This time the camel, rather than turning around, raised its head and emitted a loud, unhappy, gurgling sound. From inside the house came a shout.

“Someone’s heard us!” said Molly.

George kicked the camel again; the camel responded with another protest, this one even louder.

Now Molly and George heard several shouting voices and running feet.

“They’re coming!” Molly said. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Molly struggled to get out of the saddle, hampered by her bulky robe and the tight quarters. George, determined to dominate the camel, kicked it yet again. “Up, you mangy beast!” he hissed. This time the camel whirled its head around and spit at him. George leaned violently backward, knocking his head into Molly’s. A wad of camel spit sailed past.

“Ow!” she said. “George, let me out of this saddle!”

Just then, four men, two holding swords, burst around the corner of the house. Catching sight of George and Molly, they charged toward the camel, shouting angrily, their faces filled with fury. Now George and Molly were both trying frantically to climb out of the saddle, but they and their robes were too entangled. Molly thought about using the starstuff in her locket but could not get to it in time. They had no chance to escape—the first shouting man was almost upon them, drawing back his sword, and…

…and stopping short as a brilliant streak of light flashed in front of him, inches from his eyes. The man jerked backward abruptly, causing the second man to run into him, and the third and fourth to run into both of them. The men went down in front of the camel in a clattering, shouting heap.

“Tink!” shouted Molly.

Tink responded with a burst of chimes that Molly did not understand. It wasn’t aimed at her, anyway; Tink was saying something to the camel. Instantly, the beast got up, the sudden motion almost pitching George and Molly out of the saddle. But they hung on as the camel, urged on by Tink, got to its feet and lurched forward toward the street. One of the fallen men managed to lunge at the camel as it passed. He grabbed Molly’s leg, jerking it down and back. Molly screamed in pain. George lashed out and kicked the man’s head; he grunted and let go. The camel reached the street and turned right. George clung to the saddle and Molly to George, as the camel, responding to Tink’s chimes, went from a trot to a gallop. From behind, they heard the sounds of angry voices and running feet. Neither looked back. The sounds receded.

In minutes they were at the edge of the city and then on a road going into open desert. The camel slowed down to a swaying walk. The night closed around them.

“Are you all right?” said George.

“Yes,” said Molly, though her leg throbbed. “I’m fine.” She leaned around George and spoke to Tink, who now sat atop the camel’s head between its floppy ears, looking forward.

“Thanks, Tink,” she said. “You found us just in time.”

Tink turned and, with an expression that was slightly less disdainful than the one she usually used toward Molly, chimed a response. Then she chimed again, and again, more earnestly.

“What is she so worked up about?” said George.

Molly shook her head. “I can’t understand bell-speak,” she said. “But I think I recognized one bit. It’s Peter she’s worried about.” She looked out at the vast darkness of the desert. “And it’s Peter she’s taking us to.”