When the wet sky paled to dirty pearl, Bay Ridge lay to port, the long spit of Bayonne to starboard, and the low hills of New Brighton a half mile ahead. A small boat appeared here and there in the upper bay, plowing along on its own business. A choppy little swell had begun to smack against the blunt nose of the leading barge, throwing haphazard drops of spray on the rowers; but they were all too soaked to mind. Nash peered toward the site of St. George; sure enough there were docks there as on the mundane plane.
A subtle change in the music of the oars caused him to turn his head. The rowers of the second barge had quit; the slaves leaned listlessly on their sweeps, and in the center of the deck the three guards had their heads together.
"Hey, you!" called Nash.
The guards looked up; then began to advance forward in line abreast, with careful, catlike tread. Nash walked boldly toward them until he and they were separated only by the yard of water between the first and second barges.
"Well?"
The center guard touched his forehead with thin humility."Perhaps we are stupid, effendi, but it don't look to us as if you had gone directly across the river to New Jersey."
"That's all right."
"Humble apologies, but it is not all right. We heard our lord tell you to cross the river directly."
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
"That may be. But how shall our lord find his dough and his molls if you do n<ft go whither he directed you?"
"Oh, he knows where I'm going. I told him just before we left."
"No," said the guard, "I was watching."
Another guard put in: "It looks to us, effendi, as if you sought to give our Protector of the Poor the old double cross!"
"Listen," snapped Nash, "I'm running this show, and as long as—"
"Not any more!" cried the third guard."Give the perfidious infidel the works!"
"Allah!" shouted the others."Smite the unbelieving goon!"
"Slay the highjacking traitor!"
All three backed up, drew their scimitars, and made a running broad jump from their boat to Nash's.
Nash grabbed for his sword, and realized that he had taken it off because it hampered him in rowing, and leaned it against the lee side of the deckhouse. He sprinted forward and grabbed the hilt, letting the scabbard clatter to the deck, the three guards after him whirling their thin steel crescents.
As soon as he could turn he started to uncork a lunge at this nearest, but had to interrupt it to parry a slash from another. For the next ten seconds he fought as he never had exerted himself in his mundane life. Maybe a movie hero could fight three foes at once, but only if the foes merely diddled around with their weapons instead of boring in like these guys. No time for fancy fencing; nothing but a crude right-left slashing to knock the curved blades aside as they swung.
He felt the stem post of the barge behind him. They had backed him into the bow; he knew definitely that no matter how hard he tried, they would have him in a matter of seconds.
Chapter X.
One scimitar hit Nash on the flank, but was stopped by his money belt, and then a new front was opened up.
Figures popped out of the deckhouse of the second barge: women in baggy Turkish trousers and short bangled vests. They ran forward and leaped to the first barge. The leader, a splendid-looking blonde, snatched up a barge pole. While the others were doing likewise, she swung the pole with both hands against the ribs of one of the guards.
The guard went oof, teetered on the gunwhale, and grabbed his nearest fellow. Both tumbled overboard. The girl swung again, the muscles of her white arms standing out. Clank! The remaining guard's spiked helmet leaped from his head and spun into New York Bay, and the warrior followed it.
A shaven head appeared alongside the barge, and a swarthy arm reached for the gunwhale. Another girl chopped down on the arm with her pole.
The thump and splash were followed by a curdling shriek. The swimmer brought his legs up under him and pushed off from the boat with his feet. He swam out of reach, though a couple of the women took swipes at him. His partners joined him, wriggling out of their jelabs and coats and getting ducked with every wave.
The guard who had had his arm thumped shook a fist."Allah curse your—blub—house, you lousy—pfft—Frank! For this you shall be—gulp—most cruelly—gurgle—bumped off!"
All three turned away and struck out for Bayonne, swimming breast stroke like three large brown frogs.
"Well!" said Nash.
"Jean-Prospère!" exclaimed the tall blonde."Don't you know me?"
Even as Nash realized that this was unmistakably the astral body of Alice Woodson, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed on him a long kiss that turned his knee joints to water. She whispered in his ear: "Don't you remember?"
"Ahem... uh... sure," said Nash, yirning pink."How did you—"
"I thought I recognized you last night, and I hoped you'd manage something like this. How did you—"
"Went around to explain why I hadn't been to your party," replied Nash."I got a detective when I saw the mess, and he put me on Arslan Bey's track. But just a minute—we'll have to decide about these birds." He confronted the nearest of the slaves, who stood doubtfully at his oar.
The soulless one doubled himself up and touched his forehead. He mumbled: "There was talk of treachery, effendi. Who is the traitor, you or the guards? We must serve our lord the sultan—"
"The guards were the traitors, of course!" barked Nash."You don't suppose Allah would have let the fight come out that way otherwise?"
That explanation seemed to satisfy the slaves, who set their oars docilely in motion. The rest of the three hundred and sixty-five wives had meantime emerged from the holds in varying degrees of bundled-upness. They gave the animals a wide berth and crowded forward.
"Alicia," said Nash, "I want to talk to you about those—"
"Jean-Prospère, what's become of that cute French accent of yours?"
"Been going to a speech-improvement class. In fact I'd as lief be called plain Prosper."
"All right, Prospère—"
"Prosper."
"I'm cold," complained another of Arslan's wives.
"I don't wonder," said Nash, eying her bare feet and midriff."Hadn't you better get your—"
Alicia leaned overside and stuck a finger in the bay."It's much warmer in the water than out of it! I know what we need! Come on, girls!"
Before Nash could make up his mind to protest, the tall girl had thrown off her skimpy vest, stepped out of her trousers, and dived overboard. She came up spouting and laughing."It's wonderful! Won't somebody else come in? Aw, girls— Hey, Prosper!" With two strokes she reached the barge and made a pass at Nash's ankle. Nash skipped back out of reach."Come on, peel off and jump!"
"Not a nudist," grinned Nash, "and anyway I can't swim now."
"Why not? Don't tell me it's the wrong day of the—"
"Takes all the starch out of my whiskers."
She splashed water at him, dove again, and swam about."I know," she said."You cavaliers and Restoration bucks and such never do bathe. Think it's indecent to get wet all over. I met the young Marquis de la Forge last week, and he positively stank!"
"When you're ready, Alicia—"
"Oh, all right." She put her hands over the gunwhale, hoisted herself out, turned, and sat on the edge splashing with her feet.