by Guy d'Armen
Without going into details, she explained their predicament and told him they were being hunted by the evil Sepoys; they were in great need of food and, afterward, of help to get out of the forest without making any further bad encounters.
The parhaiya, who immediately started to address Milarepa “Princess of the Forest,” unknowingly using her proper rank, was all too happy to help these kind strangers, who did not treat him like a filthy beast, and whom he still thought of as being somehow connected to his goddess.
He went out into the jungle, using the first tunnel, and quickly returned with a basketful of delicious fruits and nuts from the areca palms which grew abundantly in this part of the forest.
After enjoying a hearty breakfast, Ardan and Milarepa decided to leave and follow the parhaiya through the second, previously hidden tunnel.
With their guide shouting his sad owl-like cry at regular intervals, they were certain that no Sepoy—or indeed, virtually no one else—would dare approach their company. At least, that was their plan.
The hidden tunnel ended inside the long-abandoned ruins of a temple, located near the edge of the jungle, not far from the main road to Bankipore.
The parhaiya gestured to Ardan and Milarepa to remain hidden within the ruins, while he went to check if the way was clear outside.
As it turned out, when he returned, his face bore an expression of stark terror.
“What did you see?” asked Milarepa.
“I saw two devils,” the parhaiya replied. “One of them bears the mark of my goddess. He is steeped in blood and his eyes burn with the flames of death. The other one is afraid of him and cowering before him. They both carry hatred and anger in their hearts!”
CHAPTER XXIII
Again, Mendax!
“I’m going to take a discreet look outside,” said Ardan after digesting what Milarepa had told him of the parhaiya’s report.
Taking extreme care not to make a single noise, he crept towards the ancient temple’s exit and hid himself behind a half-standing column.
What he saw were, indeed, two men, their backs towards him. They were gesticulating and speaking loudly enough for the young man to catch the essence of their argument.
One of the two men—as well as his voice—was not unknown to him.
Suddenly, the stranger turned and Ardan saw him in full daylight.
It was their mortal enemy—Captain Mendax!
The young man guessed—correctly—that Mendax had learned of their recent imprisonment in Bankipore and was again hell-bent on recapturing them.
“You’re a coward and a fool, Alik Babu,” shouted Mendax. “Now that my two golden geese are safely locked up in Bankipore, you don’t imagine I’m going to let them stay there. My agent in Calcutta tells me Ardan’s father is already working on getting them released. Remember that that young man in my hands is worth $100 million!”
Ardan muffled a sigh of joy. So his father was indeed in Calcutta and no doubt engaged in the process that would lead to their freedom.
“It is you who are a fool, Captain,” replied Alik. “Even your vaunted Astaroth cannot face the full might of the British Army. Bankipore is heavily defended by two companies of Sepoy, and artillery reinforcements can be summoned from Patna. A frontal attack has no chance of succeeding. Besides, how will you find your two prisoners in that cesspit? Do you imagine they’ll come to you when you whistle?”
“I agree, which is why I’ve spent a king’s ransom to buy nearly half of the men there. We’re not going to attack as much as infiltrate the prison. The men in my employ will neutralize the others, and take us to Ardan’s and Milarepa’s cells...”
“But is it possible that they will use the chaos to again slip from your grasp? Or that the troops will rally in time and capture us?”
“No, because when they learn why we’re there, the other convicts will revolt, join us and help us massacre the rest of the garrison. As for Ardan and Milarepa, where could they go? They’ll be like birds in a cage! After that, it will take only minutes for me to summon the Astaroth by radio, and we’ll escape by air. That devil may have destroyed my Citadel on top of Mount Everest, but I have another, in Upper Mongolia, near the source of the Yenisei... No one will ever find us there!”
During the rest of the conversation, Mendax succeeded in convincing Alik Babu that his plan was sound, and offered him a share of the ransom. The time for the attack was set for that same night at midnight. Alik Babu would bring his own men and join forces with Mendax.
“I see that that murderer hasn’t let go of the notion of getting us back,” said Ardan to himself, as he crept back inside the temple. “But this time, I’m forewarned, and we’re going to see to it that his plan fails and he is captured.”
After reporting what he had learned to Milarepa, the two young people discussed what their next move should ne.
“The best thing to do is to warn Sir Harry, the Prison Governor, of the attack. If he learns that his men have been bribed, he can replace them with a fresh contingent from Patna.”
“Yes,” said Milarepa, “but if we return to Bankipore, we’ll be caught and they’ll throw us in jail without listening to a word we have to say.”
Of course, neither Ardan nor Milarepa knew of his father’s visit to the prison with the Viceroy’s Private Secretary that very morning.
“True. Perhaps if we were to send a message... But how?”
“I have an idea,” said Milarepa. “Let’s use the parhaiya. You’ll write the message and he’ll deliver it. Because of his caste, no one will want to approach him, harm him or question him, or even read his message, which ensures none of the bribed guards will see it. They’ll deliver it to Sir Harry as fast as possible.”
“Excellent idea! Let’s do it!”
While Milarepa was explaining to the parhaiya what they were expecting from him, and reassuring him that he would suffer no consequences, Ardan tore a piece of his shirt and used a partially charcoaled piece of wood he’d found near the temple’s altar to write a message to Sir Harry giving all the details of Mendax’s planned attack.
When he was finished, he rolled the piece of fabric, tied it with a string made from a vine, and gave it to the parhaiya.
Together, they walked back to the underground temple, and through the first tunnel, coming out at the entrance that Ardan and Milarepa had found the day before.
From there, it was not a long walk to Bankipore.
Ardan and Milarepa decided to return to the underground chamber and wait.
The parhaiya returned three hours later, when it was already late in the afternoon.
He told his two new friends that all had gone according to their plan. He had presented himself at the gate of Bankipore, holding the message. The message had been taken with a great deal of repugnance, but would be passed on to Sir Harry Myles.
“Great!” said Ardan. “This time, Mendax’s goose is cooked. The British won’t let him get away! However, I propose we wait for nightfall, then go there and keep an eye on what’s going on. We might be able to help the British and capture Mendax.”
Just before midnight, Ardan and Milarepa saw Mendax and Alik Babu’s men arrive. They were all armed to the teeth. Had they benefitted from the complicity of the bribed guards, they would indeed have been able to take over the prison without much resistance.
They had come with bamboo ladders which they set up against the wall. Once on the other side, they expected to meet and join forces with their allies. If there were a few faithful sentinels left, their throats would be slit quickly and silently.
However, they were in for a terrible surprise!
As they reached the top of the wall, a volley of gunfire rang out!
It was the squadron of faithful soldiers summoned by Sir Harry from Patna who were shooting at them, taking them down like so many clay pigeons at a fairground.
Alik Babu’s men tried to turn and escape the way they had come, but in the intervening time, Ardan, Milarep
a and the parhaiya had slipped through the darkness and caused the ladders to topple to the ground. The villains were trapped on top of the ramparts, doomed to die.
A few men jumped down, but either broke their necks or had their heads bashed in by the parhaiya.
Finally, the gunfire stopped.
“I think this is it for Mendax,” said Ardan. “he must have either been shot or captured.”
The young man was right. The dreaded air-pirate had been wounded in the shoulder and taken prisoner. His accomplices had not missed an opportunity to accuse him of everything bad they could think of under the sun, and Sir Harry had ordered him thrown into a cell and placed under round the clock heavy guard.
“What do we do now?” asked Milarepa.
“I think it’s probably safer to return to the underground temple, until the smoke clears and our innocence is formally established. Now that Mendax and his men have been captured, the existence of the pirates of Mount Everest will soon be established, and we’ll be vindicated. We’ll send your friend the parhaiya to bring us newspapers and as soon as we...”
But Ardan did not have time to finish his sentence.
An automobile had just come out of the prison, its headlights piercing the night like a knife through butter.
A tall man jumped out and called:
“Francis! Are you there?”
“Father!” shouted Ardan.
CHAPTER XXIV
All is well...
“My son! At last!”
Francis Ardan Sr. had opened his arm wide, and son hugged father in a very moving display of genuine sentiment.
Sir Harry and Sir Dennis came out and congratulated the young man.
“We owe you an immense debt of gratitude,” said Sir Dennis. “The fall of Bankipore would have been an unmitigated disaster...”
“Your message literally saved the day, young man,” added Sir Harry. “Please accept my deepest apologies for what you endured here. I can’t express how truly sorry I am.”
“Where is your companion, Princess Milarepa?” inquired Sir Dennis, still worried about any possible diplomatic incident.
“There she is,” said Ardan, gesturing to his companion to come out of hiding and step into the light.
Sir Dennis and Sir Happy bowed deeply to the young woman as she approached the group.
“Princess.”
Sir Dennis turned towards Sir Harry and said:
“How many prisoners did we capture tonight?”
“Sixteen, not counting that abominable Mendax, the leader of the gang. I have him guarded by a dozen men”
“Excellent! Have all their confessions recorded and delivered to me as soon as possible. I will personally hand them to the Magistrate and we will have our young friends’ convictions overturned by lunch. In the meantime, they’ll be staying under their own recognizance at the Viceroy’s Mansion.”
Then he turned towards Ardan, and asked:
“Just for the record, would you mind identifying Mendax?”
“Of course not,” replied the young man. “In fact, it will be my pleasure to see that rascal one last time, rotting in jail.”
“If what you said is correct, he won’t be rotting there for long. He’ll hang by the end of the week.”
Milarepa insisted on accompanying her companion and both young people categorically identified Mendax, who was lying on a cot, his shoulder broken.
“You!” he spat, seeing Ardan. “I would have been better off hacking off my own right hand than capturing you! I curse the day I first laid eyes on you! You’ve been the cause of all my troubles, from the start! I hate you! Damn you!”
The prisoner was pushed back onto his cot and the door of his cell clanged shut.
“Well, that’s a confession if I ever heard one,” said Sir Dennis. “It will greatly speed up things.”
The two young people returned to Calcutta in the Viceroy’s car with Sir Dennis. Once at the mansion, they were shown to their rooms, where they bathed and rested.
In the morning, after dressing in a fresh set of clothes, they gathered for breakfast where they were introduced to Lord Irwin, the Viceroy. They regaled their host with the detailed story of their exploits.
It was at the point where they were telling him of their adventures in Chittagong that Sir Dennis interrupted, addressing Milarepa:
“I’m particularly pleased to report, Princess, that we have managed to make contact with Prince Manjitar, your father. He was presented with a new ransom demand by a scoundrel working for Mendax in Chittagong. That man has been arrested, of course, and your father was notified of your presence here. He should be here by mid-afternoon.”
That night, the prince sat next to his daughter at the grand banquet that the Viceroy had ordered to be held to celebrate the happy return of the two young heroes, and the end of the dreaded pirates of Mount Everest.
The local newspapers devoted many articles to the exploits of young Francis Ardan and Princess Milarepa. Many journalists tried to interview or photograph them, but all their requests were turned down, politely but firmly.
Two weeks later, the investigation into Mendax’s crimes was over. Mendax had gloated about all his crimes, many of which had been unsolved mysteries for a long time. However, he refused to divulge any of the scientific secrets that had enabled him to build the Astaroth and his Citadel.
“That will remain my secret,” he mocked. “You have scientists. Put them to work!”
He also refused to divulge his true identity. Some accused him of being connected to the notorious Demidoff family from Russia, but he denied it, and the truth was never established.
When he heard the sentence condemning him to death by hanging, he joked:
“Life was getting to be boring. Since I couldn’t get my hands on the $100 million I could have snatched from the Ardans, my prospects for an easy retirement were meager, so I thank you for freeing me from the burden of old age!”
It seemed as if half of the population of Calcutta had gathered on the Main Square to watch the master villain receive the ultimate punishment. All his accomplices were hung before it was his turn, and he saw them being put to death without any visible trace of emotion.
His hands tied behind his back, he stepped forward to meet the executioner, who placed the knotted rope around his neck.
“What a shame that such genius could not have been harnessed to better ends,” confided the Viceroy to Sir Dennis.
The crowd was shouting insults and curses.
With a strong push from his shoulder, Mendax sent the executioner down to the platform, and shouted:
“You are call fools! From that dim-witted Viceroy to the lowest of the low, who have gathered here to watch me die! If I hadn’t been betrayed, I would have become the Master here! I would have ruled you all from my impregnable Citadel! But I will be avenged! I will...”
The executioner had pulled the lever that controlled the opening of the trapdoor, and Mendax had fallen, the rope breaking his neck with an audible snap.
His body swayed for a minute at the end of the rope, then was still.
The Astaroth was never found. The secrets of his construction and weapons died with Mendax.
Seven years later, when the now world-famous “Doc Ardan” returned to Tibet, after defeating the dreaded Mo-Gwei, Master of the Meteor Menace, he and his five companions made a stop in the province of Gyantse where they were received like kings by Prince Manjitar.
A great feast was held in their honor and they were introduced to Princess Milarepa’s husband, a prince from the neighboring province of Changdu, and her three lovely children.
Milarepa asked to be excused early. The next day, Prince Manjitar noticed the red around her eyes and guessed correctly that his daughter had spent a good portion of the night crying.
But the Prince was a wise man who knew that, in matters of the heart, there were always things better left unsaid, for if said, they had to either be admitted or denied, and either
course led to shame. So he asked his daughter no questions and all was well forevermore.
That same year, 28-year-old Flight Lieutenant David Fowler McIntyre and 30-year-old Douglas Douglas-Hamilton, Marquis of Clydesdale, flew in fragile biplanes, with open cockpits and temperamental oxygen masks, over the top of Mount Everest with only feet to spare. By then, there were no evidence left of the burned out remains of Mendax’s once inaccessible citadel.
The story of the pirates of Mount Everest was finally and truly over.
THE GIANTS OF BLACK LAKE
CHAPTER I
An Unexpected Encounter
Doctor Francis Ardan carefully studied the massive cliffs this side of Black Lake. They were a sheer drop into a deep pool of water, the purity of which was uncanny.
“I think they must contain copper, and also iron and manganese, and possibly some coal as well,” he said. “If nothing else, this trip may not have been a waste of time. My father’s mining subsidiary will be interested in the results of my survey.”
Doc Ardan had undertaken the exploration of the source of the Yenisei River in Upper Mongolia. Several weeks before, he had encountered a company of Tartars whose leader, once apprised of the young man’s purpose for exploring the region, had suggested he look near Black Lake, or Haa Nuur in the local tongue, a dark and foreboding part of Upper Mongolia, in the Khangai Mountains, near the border of the newly-established Tuvan People’s Republic.
The young man’s interest in Black Lake was also piqued because it was rumored to be the burial site of the legendary Abuk Khan, a famous rebel chief of the Middle Ages, who had eventually been captured by his enemies and condemned to death.
The story said that, as he walked to his doom, Abuk Khan had uttered a most solemn curse on the spot where he was to die, and a large dolmen was afterwards erected to mark it.
