Cunningham laughed. 'Well, my Arabic isn't too bad. I'll have to bow out on the Somali question.'
Kane held out his hand. 'My name is Kane,' he said. 'Your wife hired me to find you when she received the letter you'd left with the British Consul in Aden.'
Cunningham straightened and his voice was strained with excitement. 'Ruth sent you? Have you seen her recently?'
'Only a couple of hours ago,' Kane told him. 'She's up above with a friend of mine called Marie Ferret. I'm afraid Muller and Skiros grabbed the lot of us.'
'How is she?' Cunningham demanded. 'Is she all right?'
'She was in good spirits when I last saw her, but very worried about you.'
Cunningham sat down on the pile of rubbish. 'I think you'd better bring me up to date, old man.'
Kane spoke quickly, telling him everything that had happened since his first meeting with Ruth Cunningham on the jetty at Bahrein including what Skiros had just told him.
When he had finished, Cunningham said, 'It's quite a story.'
Kane nodded. 'I suppose it is, but what happened to you?'
Cunningham laughed bitterly. 'I was a damned fool, I can see that now. For various reasons, it was important to me that the discovery of this place should be my own unaided work. When I arrived at Bir el Madani, I realized I couldn't hope to penetrate the desert on my own. I managed to find a Rashid Bedouin brave enough - or stupid enough - to accompany me.'
'Presumably you charted a course across the Empty Quarter from Shabwa to Marib and hoped for the best?'
Cunningham nodded. 'It was surprisingly easy. We had a spare camel and carried plenty of water. On the second day we found that pillar.'
'The one where we discovered the aluminium water-bottle?'
Cunningham nodded. 'We camped there for the night. It was empty and I was cutting down on weight. Frankly, I never expected to find any of the pillars left standing.'
'That was the only one we saw,' Kane told him.
'I did find another one,' Cunningham said. 'It was lying on its side, half-buried.'
'What happened when you got here?'
'It was a bad business. As we entered the gorge, they swarmed all over us. My Rashid was a brave man. He tried to put up a fight, but they shot him down. They put me into cold storage at the bottom of a disused well until Skiros arrived the following day. On two occasions since I've been here, the Catalina you mention has landed on the flat plain outside the gorge. I think Skiros intended to kill me, but then Muller arrived and suggested he might have a. use for me on this job. Skiros let him have his way.'
'I'm afraid you've only postponed the evil day,' Kane told him.
Cunningham shrugged wearily. 'I don't give a damn about myself- it's Ruth I'm worried about.'
Kane nodded. 'I know how you feel, but we're not through yet. We'll think of something. Where do they put you at night?'
Cunningham laughed shortly. 'Until a week ago I slept in one of the tents under guard. I tried to make a run for it one night, but I'm afraid I didn't get very far. Since then, I've been back in the well.'
'Sounds lousy,' Kane said.
Cunningham shrugged. 'At least it's dry. I shouldn't imagine there's been any water in the damned thing for a thousand years or more.' He got to his feet and stretched. 'We'd better get started. Muller can be surpris- ingly nasty if he doesn't think enough work's been done.'
He picked up the spot-lamp and led the way into the passage. It was perhaps sixty or seventy feet long and sloped downwards. At the far end, Jamal was filling a basket, the blade of his shovel flashing in the lamplight. There was barely enough room for two men to work side-by-side. Jamal turned at the sound of the approach, Kane slapped him on the shoulder and the Somali went back to his digging.
'As you can see, conditions aren't too good,' Cunningham said.
Kane examined the walls closely with one of the lamps and frowned. 'I've excavated rock tombs in the mountains around Shabwa, but I've never come across one with an entrance like this.'
Cunningham nodded. 'I think Muller is barking up the wrong tree. He doesn't even know for certain that the temple was constructed by Balquis, Queen of Sheba. I do.'
'That's the one comforting thing I've heard today,' Kane told him. 'But I must say I'd like to know where this damned tunnel leads myself
'There's only one way to find out,' Cunningham said, handing him a shovel.
Kane paused only to strip to the waist and then he moved in beside the Somali and started to dig.
In Berlin at Turpitz Ufer, Canaris was working at his desk when Ritter came in. 'I've just heard from Skiros,' Ritter said.
The Admiral sat back. 'Everything on schedule?'
'Absolutely.'
'What happens to Romero and his friends after they leave the Catalina?'
'They'll be picked up by a member of our Egyptian bureau and driven straight to Italian territory.'
'Excellent.' Canaris smiled. 'Not long now, Hans.'
'No, Herr Admiral.'
'Carry on,' Canaris said and Ritter went out.
TWELVE
THE MOON HAD RISEN over the rim of the gorge and the valley was filled with its eerie radiance, when Muller had them taken down to the encampment. Emerging from the cave, Kane stretched to ease his tired muscles and paused at the sight of the temple, bathed in moonlight. It looked incredibly beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the guards apparently felt otherwise. The muzzle of a rifle dug painfully into his back and he was urged on down the slope.
It was quiet in the valley and the shadows and loneliness moved in from the desert as they passed between the tents and entered the trees. Somewhere, a camel coughed and an Arab stood knee-deep in the pool and washed himself, pausing to watch curiously as they passed.
On the other side of the trees they halted beside a small horseshoe of rock that surrounded a round, black hole, perhaps five feet in diameter. A heavy rope was secured to a nearby palm tree and one of the guards picked up the free end and tossed it down into the darkness.
Cunningham went down first, straddling the rope, holding it tightly between his hands and walking backwards over the rim of the hole. When the Somali had followed him, Muller turned to Kane and spread his hands in a characteristic gesture. 'I am sorry about this, my friend, but Skiros insists. He considers you to be a very resourceful man.'
'Save your breath,' Kane said coldly. He picked up the rope without another word and began the descent.
The shaft had been hewn roughly from solid rock and his feet gripped the sides easily. He paused once and looked up at the stars gleaming in the round opening and then, all at once, they seemed very far away, and beneath him, there was a slight movement.
Hands reached out for his feet, guiding him down as the shaft widened, and he dropped into soft sand. As he picked himself up, the rope disappeared into the darkness above, brushing against his face. The sensation was so unpleasant that he moved back sharply and bumped into someone.
'Stay where you are,' Cunningham said. 'They usually send down a basket with food in it.' A moment later he grunted in satisfaction. 'Got it!' He took Kane by the elbow. 'Six careful paces and you'll find the wall.'
Kane moved through the darkness, hands outstretched until his fingers brushed on stone. He sat down, back against the wall, aware that Jarnal was beside him, and Cunningham shared out the food. When they had finished eating, they discussed the situation.
'Have you ever tried to get out?' Kane said.
Cunningham got to his feet. 'If it were daylight I could show you. The shaft widens about five feet above our heads. If it were not for that, there might be a chance of scaling the main shaft. It's narrow enough and the walls are of roughly hewn stone.'
Kane fumbled in his shirt pocket and took out a book of matches. As the first one flared, he held it high above his head. Cunningham was right. The bottom of the shaft widened considerably. The match burned his fingers and he dropped it with a muffled curse.
He turned to Cunningham 'I suppose you know we're living on borrowed time? We've got one more day at the most. Frankly, we've got two choices. We either get out of this hole or die.'
'I'm with you there,' Cunningham said. 'But how the hell do we manage it?'
Kane moved across to Jamal, squatted in front of him, and started to speak slowly and clearly in Arabic. When he had finished, the big Somali squeezed his shoulder to indicate that he had understood, and got to his feet.
Kane turned to Cunningham. 'Jamal is so incredibly strong, he might be able to push me high enough into that shaft to get some kind of grip in the narrow part. I'll climb on to his shoulders and I want you to stand behind to steady me.'
'It's worth a try, I suppose,' Cunningham said.
Jamal stood beneath the shaft and Kane scrambled up on to his shoulders. Very carefully he pushed himself erect and raised his hands above his head. They just reached inside the shaft.
'Now!' he said in Arabic and Jamal's great hands moved under his feet, lifting him bodily into the air.
Kane clawed desperately for a grip. Panic moved inside him as the Somali's arms started to tremble and then his hands fastened into a crack in the rock, and he heaved desperately. A moment later, he was securely wedged in the shaft, his back against one side, his feet against the other.
He worked his way steadily upwards, pausing every so often for a rest. The rough stonework dug painfully into his back, but he hung on grimly, and gradually the opening of the shaft increased in size until he was resting a foot or so beneath the rim.
He quickly pulled himself over the edge and crawled towards the rope. At that precise moment, two Bedouins appeared from amongst the palm trees and stood in a patch of moonlight a few feet away from the shaft, talking idly.
He had flattened himself into the sand at the first sound. Now, he carefully inched forward into the shadows and worked his way into the trees. For the moment, there was nothing he could do for Cunningham and Jamal. The two Bedouins were armed and one carried a rifle crooked in his arm. It would be impossible to tackle both of them.
He got to his feet and walked quietly away through the palm trees towards the encampment. As he approached, he could hear singing. The Bedouins were squatting round a great, flaring fire and several of them danced together, weaving an intricate pattern in and out of the firelight. One man played on a herd boy's pipe, another beat monotonously on a small skin drum. The rest sat cross-legged in a circle, clapping their hands in time to the music and swaying their bodies rhythmically.
He skirted the fire, keeping to the shadows, and moved in among the tents. The first two he examined were empty and he by-passed the largest one.
Two guards stood before a tent on the far side of the encampment. He circled round behind and crawled into the shadows at the base of the tent. He could hear movement inside, and then Ruth Cunningham murmured something he couldn't quite catch and Marie replied.
He gently slackened one of the guy ropes and lifted the bottom edge of the tent a couple of inches. By lying flat on the ground, he could just see inside.
Marie was sitting on a sleeping bag, her back only six inches from him, and Ruth Cunningham was nearer the entrance.
Kane said softly, 'Marie, don't look round. Tell Ruth to keep on talking.'
Marie's shoulders stiffened under the thin material of her shirt and then she leaned forward and spoke softly to the other girl. Ruth Cunningham gave a startled gasp and then she seemed to get control of herself. She started to talk loudly, discussing what had happened and speculating on the future.
Marie stretched full-length on her sleeping bag and half-turned her head so that she looked directly at Kane. Their mouths were only three or four inches apart.
'I can't do anything at the moment, I'm not armed,' he said. 'How are they treating you?'
'So far, all right, but I'm not happy about the way Selim stares at Ruth. He looks as if he has the worst of all possible intentions.'
Kane tried to sound reassuring. 'We'll have to do something about that. I've got to rejoin the others now. Whatever happens, don't worry. With any luck we should be back here in an hour to get you out.' He started to move away and paused. 'Tell Ruth her husband is fit and well.'
Marie's hand slid under the edge of the tent and caressed his face gently. Her eyes were like dark water, full of dangerous currents that seemed to draw him in. He raised the edge of the tent a little more and she pushed her face towards him until their lips met. It was no kiss of passion - it was the kiss of a woman who loves deeply and tenderly, with every fibre of her being. For a moment, his hand tightened over hers and then he moved away quickly.
