Rope of Sand Page #4

How beautiful.

Isn't it?

It needs a woman of your

taste to appreciate

it's magnificent beauty.

Here, look.

Server, 1782.

There are only two others like

it in the whole world.

Note the perfection

of the enameling.

How lovely.

I had to wait for it

for seven years.

The man who presented it was a

fool who let himself be outbid

by a frenchman.

But you were stubborn.

Yes, I waited.

Finally, in '39 I learned

through a contact at the

French serte that the

sister of the owner

was seized in Germany.

It would take all his money

and more to get

the old lady out.

So I made my bid.

And he had to accept.

It was a bargain.

I never saw such a collection.

All my life I've believed that

if you were willing to

take the time and energy,

you could have

anything you desired.

All my life I have sought

perfection.

It seems perfect.

Now it is perfect.

Pardon the interruption,

but I thought the

lights were still on.

Vogel, I'm a coward.

Hit me and I'll drop this.

You're wasting your time.

Pick a card, any card.

Mademoiselle Renaud, would you

mind waiting in the other

room?

No, let her stay.

She wants to see the

irresistible glamour of

Africa, and particularly

the men who live in it.

What do you want?

Vogel, a gentleman never

marks aces with his

fingernail.

How dare you suggest anything

of the sort.

I don't suppose I could prove

this to a... well, to a jury.

But I think Martingale

would listen.

And he'd be disappointed in you.

Besides, it happens

to be his money.

Money won't do you any good.

I know just the spot

where it would.

So come on, Vogel, quick.

2,000 pounds.

2,000 pounds.

Please.

You've got me at your

mercy, haven't you?

That's right.

And the keys to your car.

I sent my chauffeur home.

C'mon, red riding hood.

Time to leave grandma's.

My vase!

I don't like the way

you've got it.

So long, pig.

You shouldn't play with

these things.

Move over.

I'm cold.

I'm cold.

Listen, miss Renaud.

Maybe in your Paris you got

stop and go signals on the

streetcars.

Maybe you're used to playing

with traffic cop.

But Vogel's no traffic cop.

There are no stop and

go signals here.

They haven't even put

the roads in yet.

Maybe that's why I thought you

were the cavalry, and not

a minute late.

I mean, thank you

for the rescue.

I didn't come after you.

You just happened to be there.

That's all?

That's all.

I, too, like honesty, Mr. Davis.

When did you get that scar?

You wouldn't be interested?

What do I have to do

to prove that I am?

I want to be your friend.

I'm being honest with you.

It happened two years ago.

When I ask myself how long

ago that was, it

adds up to a century.

I was a desert hunter and guide.

I liked being what I was.

Problem was the thing you sell,

not something you...

something you live with while it

slowly chokes you to death.

I'd taken this fool, ingram,

two day's east of the main

part, lion hunting in

the scrub country.

We had no luck.

Somehow, the failure seemed more

my fault because I never

really liked the man.

We'd better turn back

in the morning.

We're pretty close to the

prohibited area, and those boy

are kind of touchy.

It wouldn't be bad to do

this and come up with

a handful of diamonds.

Or a bullet in your back.

From what you tell me, a

man could slip into the

area, with any luck...

either lie down or pick

yourself, because you're

already asleep.

But when I

awoke, I found he'd already

decided to try his luck.

He taken the better

the two horses.

And the hoof prints headed

straight for

the prohibited area.

He was traveling fast

for a man who didn't

know the desert country.

Too fast for his horse.

By this time, I knew my own

animal wouldn't be good for

much longer.

And I was feeling the heat

and the distance myself.

But sometimes an act that beings

in stupidity has to go

on, mile by mile, until it

reaches its logical end.

I finally reached the diamond

country, the black mountains

of which ingram spoke

constantly.

There were traces of the bottom

of a giant river that

flowed 1,000 centuries ago I

knew the end couldn't be far

away, and it wasn't.

There he lay, hugging the earth

as if it would save him.

And there it was that I first

saw them, a million to one

shot and ingram hit the jackpot,

a bushel of dull

pebbles that didn't even

glisten in the sun.

But worth enough to buy the

souls of 1,000 men.

Still, I didn't take them.

Don't ask me why.

There are lots of reasons

why a man won't

take what isn't his.

If you asked me how long I

walked, the answer could be

five hours or two days.

Time was a circle

that had no end.

And though the sun smashed into

my brain the message that

I'd never be able to

make it back, still

I had to keep going.

Maybe it would've been better

if Vogel never found us.

At least it would have

been simpler.

One of the things I hate Vogel

for is finding us still alive.

They took us back

to diamond stud.

And in the last minutes before

he died, ingram must have

babbled of what they found in

his fist. But he didn't live

long enough to tell them

where he found it.

The commandant had to know in

a heartbeat, for Martingale

was away and this was

his big chance to

prove himself a hero.

So to soften me up, Vogel and

his men went to work on me wit

the fists and their boots while

I was still out of my

mind and couldn't tell them even

though I would have been

willing to.

That was his big mistake.

Well, that's it.

A beating like that does

something to you.

When I came around, I wouldn't

have told them my name.

I didn't feel any

different then.

I don't feel any different now.

Except now you want

the diamonds.

Let's say I want the diamonds.

Shall we go.

Mike.

It's impossible.

You could never get

away with it.

Please.

Leave this place.

I thought I made

it clear to you.

I'm staying.

How long do you think

Martingale will hold Vogel

back?

Until he's sure there's no

chance of my leading him to

the diamonds.

Exactly.

Please listen to me.

It's over now.

You are still alive.

Be satisfied.

It's not enough just to

be alive, to eat and

sleep and to move.

When they beat me for something

I didn't do, it hurt

in a way blows never did before.

The paid won't leave until I get

what I already paid for.

When will you learn that you

cannot get along that way?

You know of another way?

Maybe I don't because

I've been lucky.

But maybe you're not the only

one who has been hurt by life.

Of course I'm not.

But you've got to fight back.

For a time.

And then you realize

it does no good.

So you shrug your shoulders

and say that's

the way of the world.

I shall live that way.

I'd rather be dead.

You will be.

Because those people are

dead inside anyway.

Sick, or rotten, or dead.

Mike, please do what Mr.

Martingale asked you to do.

You just don't understand,

do you?

C'mon.

Let's go.

I got things to do.

Mr. Martingale is busy.

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