After this Mariam would answer no more questions, and left him to ponder over what she had said. He could hardly realize the full purport of all she had told him. This then was the danger Inspector Childs had spoken of; this then was the result of those meetings the police had been watching, the one they had endeavoured to spy upon. In his weakened state the idea of it all set his brain in a whirl, and his thoughts became confused. The one thing that seemed to strike him more forcibly than the rest was, how on earth was he to escape?

The days dragged slowly by, and he soon reached the convalescent stage. The wound he had received in his shoulder quickly healed under Mariam's treatment, and it became only a question of time for the recovery of his strength. He saw no one but the old woman who personally attended to all his wants. The son she spoke of did not show himself, although on several occasions he had heard a man's voice in another room.

Once or twice Mariam had spoken of her power, and gave him to understand that she did not require money; the squalor of her room made this seem rather enigmatical to the sick man, but he knew such people were sometimes eccentric in their mode of living, and this might possibly account for his surroundings. However, it was no affair of his, she had been an angel of goodness to him, and he had no right to pry into her private affairs.

Helmar was young, and his great vitality stood him in good stead; the moment his wound healed his strength began to come back rapidly, and with returning health he felt it incumbent upon him to suggest that he should relieve the faithful Mariam of the trouble he was causing her. Knowing the old woman's peculiarities, he was a little afraid to broach the subject, but his duty lay so plainly before him that, despite his feelings, he decided to speak his mind.

One evening, after a day of chafing at his inactivity, the opportunity came. She had brought in some food, and their conversation soon turned upon the terrible state of the country.

"I don't want you to think me ungrateful for your kindness, Mariam," he said, hesitatingly, "but I am now so far recovered and so strong that I feel I must no longer trespass on your goodness."

A grim smile played over her withered old face.

"And whither would you go? Death may await you outside these doors."

"Perhaps that is so," said George, doubtfully, "but I must take my chance."

"I like the young man for his spirit," said the old woman more to herself than her companion. "It is right, but he is a good youth and must not die—life is dear to me, then how much more so to him. Listen," she went on in unmistakable tones of command, "my son does big trade on the river. He owns many nuggars and dahabiehs which carry wheat and produce down to Alexandria. If you could reach that city in safety, you would find means of leaving the country in a ship."

"But I don't understand; how am I to reach Alexandria?"

"My son will hide you on board one of his boats, and in that way you can escape. Your danger will be great, for although my son is known all along the river, your life will surely pay the forfeit if by any chance you should be discovered."

It was a case of "Hobson's choice." Helmar was glad to accept any means of escape, and eagerly fell in with all the old woman had to say. Bearing out her character for beneficence, Mariam was as good as her word, and arranged all the details for his departure.

The first time Helmar put on his clothes he discovered, to his great delight, the money he had earned at the bookseller's was still in his pocket. This was a surprise, for he had naturally concluded it had been stolen. He now pressed Mariam to take it. But she would have none.

"You'll require that, and more, yourself," she said. So Helmar let the matter drop.

He was unfeignedly sorry to part with his protectress. A sort of filial affection had grown up in him for this woman, and when she came in for the last time, bringing her son with her, George felt that he was about to leave his best friend. On her part, the old woman seemed no less affected, and but for the presence of her son, she would undoubtedly have broken down altogether.

The man in whose guardianship Mariam was about to trust her patient was a powerfully-built fellow of forty. He possessed a strong, honest face of a similar cast to his mother's, although perhaps a shade paler. He was dressed in the ordinary Egyptian garb, and, as his mother presented him, he advanced with outstretched hand and gripped Helmar's in a manner as hearty as it was honest.

"The night is dark, Mussiu," he said, "we must not delay. For the moment the place is quiet, but the riotousness of the people is liable to break out at any moment, and, unless the greatest caution is used, we may be discovered and challenged. Come, let us start, for it is some distance to the river!"

Helmar turned to his nurse. He was deeply affected at parting with the old soul.

"Good-bye, Mariam," he exclaimed. "I can never thank you for all you have done for me. I shall never forget it. Some day perhaps you will allow me to repay you."

"Do not talk of thanks. I like it not. You will be a second son to me. Take these," she went on, handing him his revolver and a long knife of Egyptian make, "they may be of use to you. I shall watch for you always, and some day we shall meet again. Farewell!"

Without another word she turned and left the room.

Naoum stood looking on with a stolid face, and, as his mother departed, led the way to another door, and the two men left the house.

To anybody of a less courageous spirit the position Helmar found himself placed in would have been appalling. With little money, with hardly recovered health, only these two people whom he could count his friends in a now hostile country—all these things combined to make his position one of the greatest insecurity and danger. Instead of doubting the outcome of it all, however, he rather gloried in the situation, and did not trouble himself in the least as to the future. He felt more than ever the keen enjoyment of the roving, happy-go-lucky existence he had elected to follow. The simple effect of stretching his legs as he walked beside his companion inspired in him a keen feeling of appreciation of life, and a grim determination to follow to the end his adventurous career.

"How far is it now?" he asked, as they swung along through the slummy quarters.

"Quarter of a mile," was the laconic reply.

"Wish it was more," said George, "it's a treat to be walking again."

"I dare say it is, but we may find it's all too long before we reach the quay. Come along down here," he went on, turning into what looked like a blind court, "we must take all the most deserted streets and listen well, and look well ahead for sounds of trouble. The last two weeks have been terrible times."

"And what does Arabi hope to gain by all this?" asked George.

"The country and his own glorification. He hopes to destroy the Khedive's power and rule, and has adopted 'Egypt for the Egyptians' as his war-cry."

"He must be foolish. The European powers will never allow it. It can only end in one way, and he will be the one to pay for it."

"Yes, I know he will be punished, but there it is, and in the meantime the country is in a fearful state of alarm."

They were nearing the river, and Helmar relapsed into silence as they wound their way through the narrow streets. On every side the tumble-down appearance of the buildings made their walk more solitary and dismal. The smell, as they approached the river, became more pronounced, and made him wonder how any one could live there at all.

His guide seemed heedless of everything but his anxiety to reach their destination. At every corner and turning he paused to listen for any danger signal. Helmar, on the contrary, seemed quite to ignore his danger, and walked along indifferently, observing everything and comparing all with his recollections of the night when he had traversed a similar part in Cairo before he was wounded.

At last the quay was reached. The river was covered with all sorts of odd craft, and George gazed with astonished eyes at the scene before him. The moon was just rising, and the great golden globe shone over the river, causing the boats of varying build to cast weird and fantastic shadows on the water.

The guide pointed to two great cumbersome vessels near the other side of the river. They were built on the barge principle, with sail booms fore and aft like the Chinese river boats. These were the dahabiehs, one of which was to carry them down to Alexandria. As they reached the water's edge, Naoum gave a peculiar low whistle, and a boat suddenly shot out from the vessel's side, propelled by a solitary occupant.

The boat had hardly appeared when four men dashed out from the shadow and ran on to the shore towards the fugitives. They were dressed in uniform of the Khedive's army. As the fellows caught sight of Helmar's white face, they set up a shout which was immediately answered in various directions. The boat was rapidly nearing their side of the river. Naoum drew his pistol, and Helmar his revolver.

As soon as the men saw this they drew back, and two of them ran off, shouting as they went.

"The moment the boat reaches us," said Naoum in agitated tones, "you must jump in instantly. They have gone for assistance, and if they return before we get off, it means—murder."

The two Arabs left to watch our friends were evidently afraid to attack, and drew back to a respectful distance, eyeing the fugitives furtively. As they caught sight of the boat, now rapidly approaching, they set up another warning howl, and crept forward as though about to attack.

Their cry was answered by the sound of hurrying feet, and just as the boat touched the shore and Helmar and his guide had jumped in, about a dozen men rushed towards them. The sight of their escaping prey so enraged the Arabs that they opened fire at once.

Naoum and the waterman plied vigorously at the oars, and the boat skimmed over the water, while a hail of bullets struck the water around them.

They were not a moment too soon, and even then the chances were largely against them.

"Down with you," cried Naoum, addressing Helmar, "or they'll hit you! I'll pull the boat!"

"Not I," replied George, scornfully. "Do you think I'm going to take shelter while you are exposed to their fire? No, no, pull away, and I'll look after the tiller."

The distance that separated them from the shore was rapidly widening, and the danger lessened.

"I don't think, so long as they aim at us, that they can do much damage," said Naoum, smiling calmly. "Egyptians are not noted for their accurate marksmanship."

Helmar laughed a boyish, ringing laugh, as he listened to his companion's words. The spirit of adventure was upon him, and he was in a seventh heaven of delight as the whizzing bullets sped harmlessly by.

When in mid-stream, the current rapidly took them down to the silent vessel, and a few moments later they reached it and climbed aboard, while the baffled rebels slunk off into the shadow of the quay. The boat was quickly hauled up, moorings cast off, and the dahabieh began to glide down the sluggish river.



CHAPTER VIII

AN ENCOUNTER ON THE NILE

"Thus far we have escaped," said Naoum, as the two men stood on the rough untidy dahabieh, gazing at the slowly receding town. "They will probably not attempt to follow us, but I don't, for one moment, think our troubles are over. We must keep a sharp look-out along the banks for the rebels."

"You think then we shall come across them again?" asked George, glancing keenly at the speaker.

"I don't only think—I feel sure. Alexandria will be in a worse state than Cairo, and it is certain the river will be watched carefully. We must anchor in the day-time and travel at night, that is our only hope."

The man's quiet words in no way deceived Helmar, he realized that there was great danger ahead, and it would require all their fortitude and resource to cope with it. This knowledge, rather than damping his spirits, tended to raise them, and he looked forward with keen anticipation to what the future might have in store for him.

The old dahabieh was a dreary old craft, in a dirty and ruinous condition. It was carrying a heavy load of grain, and this made the journey so slow that, by sunrise, they were still within a distant view of Cairo.

Daylight entirely changed the aspect of their surroundings. The weird beauty of the moonlight on the water had led George to anticipate a glorious scene when morning broke, but disappointment awaited him. The banks of the river were low and uninviting; as for the beautiful tropical jungle he had expected to find, there was none to be seen—nothing out of the common, but the broad, muddy banks.

The heat was at its utmost, and the scourge of the Delta, the epizootie, had done its dread work. Annually this plague among the beasts plays havoc with the Nile, its surroundings and inhabitants. As the animals die of the disease, they are either left lying about on the banks to rot, decay, and pollute the air with devastating microbes, or are thrown into the water. It is then the hot sun does its work, and both the atmosphere and water become putrid.

All down the river from Cairo, George kept coming across the carcases of either buffaloes or oxen, and when they did not actually meet his eye, his nose detected their close proximity.

Life during the time was monotonous to a degree. In daylight when at anchor, the intense heat and smell caused sleep to be abandoned as far as Helmar was concerned. The watermen seemed able to put up with both, and stretched themselves out under any shelter, and slept as soundly on the bare planks as if they were on a feather bed.

Helmar and Naoum mainly occupied themselves with keeping watch, and as soon as the sun sank, the former took an hour or two's sleep.

Sometimes the monotony would be relieved by watching the natives making use of their river. Little parties could be seen in the distance washing their clothes; others cleaning or bathing what cattle they had; occasionally far away could be seen a collection of shiny, ebony-looking human beings taking a dip in the green, slimy, insanitary water and afterwards drinking it.

In this way most of the journey was accomplished. So far they had come across no sign of the rebels, and George began to think they had escaped them altogether. Naoum was not so sanguine, in fact he saw a greater danger ahead than even he had anticipated at first.

"You can't see as I do," he said one evening, as George and he sat watching the setting sun; "the fact that we have not as yet come across them indicates nothing. The nearer we get to our destination the keener will be Arabi's watch on the river for fugitives."

"Yes, but there is just a possibility that we have passed them on our way without having seen them," said George optimistically.

"Yes, that may be so," replied his companion doubtfully. "Allah only knows what we shall do if Alexandria is occupied by them. There is but one course open to you as far as I can see. When we get into the Mahmoudieh Canal, you will have to hide amongst the grain; and if you ever reach Alexandria in safety, take my advice and get out of the country at once."

Helmar did not reply, he was thinking hard. He had just arrived in the country in the hopes of making a fortune. So far he had only met with trouble—trouble that first threatened to wipe him out of existence, and now tried to force him to return home.

The first he had escaped by what seemed to him a miracle, and the second, which he was just about to face, offered no alternative of escape than by the same means. The idea of flying before this danger was absolutely repugnant to him. If he were to die, why not meet his death boldly, instead of escaping by running away? It was absurd and cowardly to return home at the first sign of danger! How they would laugh at him! What would his father think? What would all say?—no, he had come to this country of his own choice, and whatever the consequences, he would stay. His good fortune had so far pulled him through—he would still trust to it.

"Well," he said at last, "I shall be guided by circumstances. We shall see how things turn out, but it seems rough on you to take this venture on my behalf."

There was a nice light breeze after sundown, and the vessel was slipping along at, for her, a very good speed. Naoum sat smoking and gazing at the banks as they passed by; George gave himself up to reflections.

The man at the tiller moved to and fro with the regularity of clockwork, altering the tack as the wind chopped and changed about. The rest of the crew were squatting about the deck in various attitudes of perfect laziness. The splash of the water at the bow of the boat had insidiously attracted George's attention, and he found himself humming a tune to the time of the lapping stream.

Suddenly Naoum turned with an exclamation. George looked at his companion, his tune gone from his mind, and all thoughts absorbed into a keen excitement. They were rounding a sharp bend, and Naoum's attention was fixed on the outer bank.

"What is it?" asked George, in tones of suppressed excitement.

Naoum turned sharply to him and waved his arm in the direction of the cabin. "Quick, below for your life! If your face is seen you are doomed."

It was too late. Just as George was about to dive below, there was a sharp report followed by the "plosh" of a bullet, as it dropped into the water just a few yards ahead of the vessel.

"Duck down under the bulwarks," said Naoum hurriedly, "they can't have seen you yet. The bank is lined with rebels," he went on, gazing hard through the gathering darkness. "Allah! but they mean to bring us to book!"

As he spoke there was a heavy rattle of musketry, and bullets flew in all directions around them. The crew sat huddled together in a place of safety, terror written in every line of their brown faces. Naoum alone seemed impervious to the danger, and watched every movement of the men on the bank.

"What shall we do?" asked George, with a set, determined look on his face that made his question seem superfluous. "We won't surrender," he added in emphatic tones.

"We'll run for it," was the quiet answer. "Their guns can't do us much harm. They couldn't hit a mountain."

George peered over the side at the bank.

"Hallo! what are they doing? Looks as if they were launching boats."

Naoum watched their actions keenly, and his face took on a slightly anxious expression as he realized the truth of George's statement.

"They are launching boats, but what for?" he said, as if asking himself the question. Then a thought seemed to suddenly strike him. "I have it—yes, that's it."

"What is it?" asked George, as Naoum walked towards the cabin.

Without answering he disappeared, and a moment later returned with several rifles. These he served out to his men with a supply of cartridges. He then harangued them in Arabic, which George was only partly able to understand, but when he had finished, he observed the fellows line up under the bulwarks and load their rifles.

"What's your idea?" asked George, as soon as Naoum had finished.

"These rebels are going to follow us, and I have no doubt they will overtake us. Then will come a tough time," replied Naoum.

"Ah! I understand. They mean to capture us if possible."

"Yes. That is what they intend, and we shall stand a poor chance if they come up with us."

"We'll not give in at any rate, but make a bold stand and give them a taste of what we are made of first," said George.

Naoum and George now went together to the stern of the boat and watched anxiously the pursuing rebels, who after their first volley from the shore had wasted no more powder, apparently content to wait until they came up with their prey. They filled two boats, and George thought that, given a fair and even chance, they could easily be overpowered. They were still some distance in the rear, and had so far gained nothing on the fugitives. But it was very apparent they were making a great effort, and presently it became evident they were slowly but surely gaining upon the dahabieh.

The men were posted all round the vessel, prepared to fire on either boat the moment it came within range.

"Now, boys," cried out George, forgetful of the Arabs' language, "when they are within rifle shot, take a steady aim. Remember we have no ammunition to waste."

Naoum was also busy with his men, giving them instructions and placing them in positions.

The boats were slowly getting nearer and nearer, and presently the rattle of the rebels' rifles rang out, but the bullets falling short of Naoum's vessel, they quickly ceased firing.

"Don't fire until their shots come nearer," said Naoum quietly. "As soon as they show us we are within range of their rifles it will be time enough for us to reply."



Presently the firing re-commenced with a fearful fusillade, and Naoum gave orders to attack. Nearer and nearer came the rebels, and more fierce became the firing. George was on one side of the vessel and Naoum on the other encouraging the men in their defence.

The rebels' ranks were thinning fast, and George began to hope they would give in. They were still three to one, however, and if they should once get aboard the dahabieh the defenders' chance would be a very poor one.

They were but a few yards off and ceased firing. Evidently they had spent all their ammunition, and were going to attempt to board the vessel and capture it with a hand-to-hand fight.

While they were yet watching, one of the boats drew near to the vessel's side, and the next moment a head appeared above the bulwarks of the dahabieh, quickly followed by another and another.

This was the signal Naoum's men waited for, and without further delay they set to work with a will, pitching the struggling rebels back into the water and taking pot shots at them afterwards as if they were ducks.

The struggle, however, had only just begun; as fast as the defenders beat the assailants off more came on. Whilst the melee was in progress the defenders had not seen the other boats come alongside, and the reinforcements they brought. All along the side of the dahabieh the Arabs were clambering up like so many ants, and though the advantage was still with Naoum, the outcome looked doubtful. The crew were hard put to it.

Helmar worked indefatigably with his rifle used as a club; everywhere he darted, dealing terrible blows as the dusky creatures showed themselves, but despite his efforts they seemed to be in overwhelming numbers.

At last they gained a foothold on the deck, and the firing ceased altogether. It became a struggle to the death, man against man. It was here the crew showed their superiority over their enemies, and slowly but surely began to drive them back.

Suddenly George saw three men pressing Naoum sorely. He himself had just succeeded in throwing off his own assailant; with a bound he went to his friend's rescue. He arrived only just in time, the men were in the act of knifing him.

Without a thought, he rained blow after blow with his clubbed rifle on the would-be assassins, and they went down like ninepins; then, turning to where the crew were fighting, he saw to his delight that they had driven the foe back over the bulwarks, while the deck lay covered with damaged rebels. Naoum's men had fought like demons, and their devotion to their master touched Helmar—it would have been so much easier for them to have sold him.

In a few more moments the rebels were driven off, dropping over the side into the water, without thinking as to the whereabouts of the boats so long as they got safely out of the hornet's nest they had fallen into.

As the last of them disappeared, Helmar fell rather than sat down on the deck, breathing hard.

"That was a close call," he panted. "If they'd held on a bit longer, I was completely done. Poof! I've had enough for one day."

Naoum was taking pot shots at the boats as they dodged about, picking up the men who had fallen into the water. He paused at his companion's words.

"Yes, Allah is good, we are now out of danger and have no more to fear."

The rifles were collected and put away, and the dahabieh resumed its calm appearance as it glided lazily onwards.

The following morning it entered the Mahmoudieh Canal, which runs direct to Alexandria. After his late experience, George realized what the appearance of a white face on board might mean to his protector, and for the rest of the journey kept out of sight.



CHAPTER IX

THE REIGN OF TERROR IN ALEXANDRIA

After what had happened, Helmar was prepared for almost anything when he actually arrived at Alexandria.

For some time past everybody had been possessed of the feeling that something serious was about to happen. Arabi Pasha and his co-conspirator, Mahmoud Sami, had caused sedition to be preached amongst the native soldiers and police, and amassed together so large a following that his party had become masters of the situation. His firm conviction that the Khedive's rule and the power of the Europeans could be easily overthrown, got so instilled into the souls of the populace they could restrain their hot-blooded feelings no longer, and on an ever-memorable day in June 1882, broke out in one of the bloodiest riots of modern times.

The first indication of what was to take place occurred one afternoon, when the chief streets of the city were suddenly awakened from their tranquillity by the shouts and yells of hundreds of natives.

"Down with the Christians," some cried; others, "Death to the unbelievers!" And they rushed about madly in different parts of the town, ultimately joining forces when the riot became general.

Europeans were beaten with "nabouts," knocked down and trampled on; shots were fired, the soldiers charged, and the police helped to make the butchery more complete. Shops and houses were attacked and pillaged, the proprietors being taken out and massacred in cold blood, and, after all valuables had been taken from them, their bodies thrown into the bye-streets. In one of these streets were found three bodies of Europeans. One was stabbed through the heart, another had bullet-holes in his head, whilst the head of the third was almost severed from the trunk, and the body divested of nearly all its clothes. The mob evidently felt confident that their actions were approved, for they paraded the streets with their stolen goods and clothes with an air of glory and bravado. One soldier was seen to sit on the curbstone and change his own garments for the new stolen ones he had just acquired.

The riff-raff of the crowd consisted of the lowest class of Arabs of the city. They fortified themselves with club-like weapons, felled their victims with them, and after stripping their bodies, cast them into the sea. Most diabolical deeds and acts were perpetrated, and the Arabic cry, coming almost spontaneously from the infuriated crowd, of, "Oh, Moslems! Kill him! Kill the Christian!" rent the air whenever a European appeared. One poor merchant was dragged from his carriage and bayoneted on the spot, whilst not many yards away a German, who had appealed to a soldier for protection, was responded to with a shot which penetrated his face. At the gate of the town the guard on duty was seen to draw his sword and strike a man twice, splitting his skull with the first stroke, and severing his head from his body with the second.

These are but a tithe of the instances of the brutality displayed by the rioters which history chronicles, and which went on incessantly all day, during which time hundreds met their death at the hands of this maddened, murderous crew. Arabi was appealed to, to put a stop to the riot. To show the hold he had over the people, it is only necessary to say that at his given word the tramping, yelling, and shouting ceased almost as quickly as it had begun.

For days after the place remained littered with the bodies of the massacred, and the spectacle, together with the appearance of the shops and houses that had been attacked, made Alexandria look like a town after a siege. Shops were shut and barred, windows barricaded with iron shutters, and the only persons about the streets were Arab soldiers.

Fugitives were removed by train, the people crowding on the roofs and steps; ships laden with the English set off as quickly as possible for Malta.

Outside the harbour was drawn up the French and English fleet.

It was at this period that the dahabieh, with George Helmar carefully kept from view, arrived outside the town almost unnoticed. The occupants of the place were too busily engaged to pay much attention to the addition of one vessel to the already large number idling about the canal. Besides, this was a trading boat and owned by a well-known native.

When the night-time approached Naoum suggested to George that he might venture up and take a view of the situation.

"It seems to me suspiciously quiet," said Naoum, as he stood beside George, eyeing the shore with a keen glance. "Can't say I like it."

"Yes, it is quiet, but do you see those shops are barricaded at the end of the streets leading down to the water?"

"Um—I don't like the look of that. There's been mischief."

"What's that smoke over there?" exclaimed George, hurriedly. "Why, it's a fire, and look—look at those shattered houses, and—hallo, there's a gang of murderous-looking soldiers—we are too late!"

Naoum did not answer. He was watching all the things his companion had drawn his attention to. There was no doubt in his mind now—the place was evidently in the rebels' hands, the process of sacking was going on. He turned to George.

"Well?" he said inquiringly. "You daren't go ashore."

"What, then, am I to do? I can't trespass on your good-nature any longer, and, besides, my presence here is a constant source of danger to you. No, I must chance it. I can't stay here."

He spoke with determination, and Naoum was not slow to appreciate the sentiments that prompted him; yet he would not see him deliberately plunge into the deadly danger that awaited him ashore.

"As I said, you can't land, friend Helmar. Allah has guided your steps to me, and you will have to throw in your lot on this boat until we can find a safe means for your escape. Come, you are a good man, say, will you stay? Sooner or later things will calm down and then——"

"No, no, Naoum, you have done so much for me already, I cannot let you risk more. My mind is made up, I will forge my own way ahead now."

"There is no need to talk of risk, or of what I have done," he replied, with a kind look into the resolute face beside him; "I ask for no greater pleasure than that you stay here."

Helmar only shook his head. It seemed to him that his duty lay plainly before him—he must no longer jeopardize this man's safety. He was well and strong again now, and must fight his own battles. Inclination made him wish to remain, but he must go.

Seeing his charge's mind was made up, Naoum, with the philosophy of the East, attempted no further persuasion, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

"When, then, will you leave?" he asked.

"As soon as you will help me to land," George answered at once. "Do not think me ungrateful, Naoum—I am only doing my duty."

"The boat shall be brought along the shore when you like," he replied, turning away, "but I should advise you to await darkness; remember your face is still white."

Accepting his friend's advice, Helmar decided to wait until the sun had gone down and then seek shelter in some small drinking saloon where doubtless he might meet other refugees. He had still the money on him which he had in his pocket at the time he was wounded, and this would pay for his immediate wants.

As darkness came on, the boat was pulled for the landing-stage. All along the river silence reigned, but from the distant parts of the city they could hear many sounds grating discordantly on the still night air. That little trip to the shore was, to the occupants of the boat, impressive to a degree. Neither knew what the future was to bring forth, both realized that danger was on all sides, and each one felt that he was parting from a friend, tried as only those who have fought side by side for one another are tried.

The younger man fully appreciated the risks this stranger had run for his sake, and a feeling possessed him that though duty demanded the parting, still, in a measure, it seemed like desertion.

Naoum on the other hand admired the spirit which prompted George's decision, and though he regretted bitterly the loss of so brave and good a companion, would not have had it otherwise.

The landing-stage reached, Helmar sprang ashore, and, with a hearty grip of the hand and a quiet "good-bye and good luck," they parted. Each felt he knew the other's thoughts, and, if good wishes could help them, there was no doubt their lives would be prosperous and happy.

"Allah is good. I shall see the boy again," thought Naoum.

Left to himself, George primed his revolver, put it in his belt ready to hand, and then made his way from the water's edge to explore the city.

It was some moments before he decided which way to go. In every street the houses were barricaded, and along the water front they were quite deserted. At last he decided to venture up a little dark alley to the left. He selected this particular one on account of its obscurity.

From the vessel he had seen a stray party of Arabi's soldiery, and he had no fancy for running the risk of encountering them by taking one of the larger thoroughfares.

How dark and quiet it seemed, not a sign of life was to be seen anywhere. In the distance he could still hear the discordant cries from other parts of the town and sometimes the discharge of fire-arms, but here—here in the lowest quarter of the city, where crime and low life usually prevailed, everything was silent as the grave.

George stepped cautiously along, his ears strained to catch the least suspicious sound, his eyes peering on every side to catch a glimpse of light through some stray chink in the closed and shuttered windows—but none presented itself.

After he had traversed the street without discovering anything to alarm him, he breathed more freely and turned into another, stretching his legs in a brisk walk instead of keeping to his furtive, silent glide.

This street, like the last, appeared to be deserted, but the houses showed signs of rough treatment; windows were broken, doors smashed, mounds of plaster, brick, and wood lay scattered about, evidences of the wanton work of the looting hordes that had no doubt recently visited it.

As he neared the end of this unwholesome, wretched place, he fancied he saw the faint flicker of a light from one of the windows, and he hurriedly made his way towards it.

His senses had not deceived him, the house was inhabited—but by whom? He paused outside and looked up at the window. The light was gone, but the sound of voices inside cheered his heart. He stood for a moment listening. At first he could not make out the language that was being spoken, but after a while, as his ear became accustomed to the confused tongues, he detected one voice speaking in his own language.

His heart beat high with hope, and he strained his ear against the wood-work of the walls. There evidently were many persons inside and of mixed nationality. This gave him his cue; if all these people of different tongues were gathered together in one house it could only mean one thing—refugees.

Without speculating further he tapped on the shuttered window of the ground floor, and waited. Immediately the voices inside ceased. He tapped again, louder than before. A moment after, the shutter of the window above was cautiously opened, and against the dim light of the sky he saw a head protruded.

The night was so dark he could not make out whether the head was that of a white man or not, but he inclined to the latter belief, and summoning all his best Arabic, he asked for shelter for the night.

"I have money to pay," he added, "but have nowhere to sleep."

There was a grunt as the head was withdrawn and another face appeared in its place. There was no mistaking it this time, it was distinctly white, and when a voice came in English—

"Who are you and what do you want?" Helmar's heart gave an instinctive leap for joy.

"These are queer times," the speaker went on, "and I do not care to do business with every passing stranger."

"I am a German," replied Helmar in the same language, "and am a stranger just come to the city from Cairo. I do not know what has happened here, but the town seems to be full of trouble. I must find somewhere to sleep."

The tones of his voice evidently calmed the stranger's fears, for he replied in much milder tones——

"Are you alone?"

"Quite," replied Helmar.

"Very well then, wait a moment," and the head disappeared and he heard footsteps descending the stairs.

The next moment the door was cautiously opened, and the burly figure of a man stood in the dark uninviting passage.

"Quick, come in," he said in hurried tones, "there is trouble about, and we don't want more; this house is supposed to be deserted."

George stepped in quickly, and the door was closed behind him. The man bolted and barred it as though the place was in a state of siege.

"Step this way," he said, evidently relieved at having got him safely in and the door secured.

Helmar followed the man to the end of the passage, where, flinging open another door, his host ushered him into a well-lighted room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "another guest. I hope there is no objection?"

At the sight of the new-comer several men rose from their seats and looked earnestly at him. The room in which Helmar found himself was part of the bar of one of the many cheap cafes of this neighbourhood. It was filled by a number of men and women of all nationalities, seated at various small tables scattered round the room. The room itself was innocent of all attempts at decoration; the walls showed its dirty plaster, the rough floor was sanded, and the worn and cheerless tables and benches were polished with the dirt of ages. The atmosphere reeked with the smell of tobacco and coffee, and, as he stepped in, bowing to the assembled company, Helmar could not help feeling a strong desire to open a window.

After their scrutiny, the occupants, one by one, resumed their seats, and George felt that they were mutely asking him for an explanation. As fugitives they were naturally suspicious of strangers, and he was about to speak, when he saw a slight figure step from an obscure corner.

In a moment his eyes glistened, and an exclamation rose to his lips as he almost jumped forward and grasped the hand of his old chum Osterberg.



CHAPTER X

THE MEETING OF FRIENDS

George was simply thunderstruck. It seemed almost miraculous that he should meet his bosom friend in such a place and under such circumstances. The two stared at each other in perfect astonishment for some moments, still clasping hands.

"Well, of all the wonders," George exclaimed, after they had expressed sufficient surprise and finished their greetings, "who would have expected this? But why are you here, and why all this mystery?"

"But surely you know, George! You know what has happened?" said Osterberg.

"I know nothing more than that Arabi is leading a rebellion against the Khedive's rule, with the object of deposing him, and that Cairo is becoming impossible to residents in consequence. I suppose Alexandria, from the look of the streets I came through, is in even a worse plight. But tell me about it."

"That's putting it mildly. We've had one of the most inhuman riots here imaginable. The Seditionists have been pillaging the town and massacring all Europeans who came in their way. I only came here a week ago, and now, like all the occupants of this house, am hiding, waiting for an opportunity to get away in safety. It's frightful, it's terrible. Heaven only knows how many people have been massacred."

"I didn't know it was as bad as that. You must have all been terror-stricken," replied George. "But let us come and have a quiet talk. How marvellous I should have chosen this place above all others to seek refuge in!"

The two young men sat and talked in the background, Helmar first giving an account of all that had happened to him, which was punctuated with exclamations of surprise from Osterberg as George recounted his adventures.

Osterberg, after parting with his friend at Constantinople, obtained work in the bank and gave great satisfaction to his employer. One day the latter called him in and told him there was a vacancy in the branch at Alexandria, and offered it to Osterberg. He accepted with alacrity and arrived in the town but a few days before the riots took place.

"And here I am taking refuge like the others, with the proprietor of this cafe," he wound up. "Not quite so eventful a time as yours, George, is it?"

"And what are we going to do now? Do you think we are safe for any length of time? Surely they must attack us in due course?" said George.

"I think we shall be unmolested for a while," replied Osterberg. "The place was visited early by the rabble soldiery and they took all that was worth taking, so now I don't suppose they will bother us."

That night was one of the worst Helmar had ever experienced; the only beds that could be scrambled together were used by the women-folk, and the men slept on the floor, benches, and tables. Fortunately blankets were not needed, as the heat was intense, but the benches were rickety and the sand on the floor worked into the sleepers' clothes. Altogether the plight of the refugees was miserable.

Helmar was unfeignedly delighted to meet his friend once more, and this compensated largely for the woeful condition in which he found himself. Osterberg, as he said, had now endured it for three days and so didn't mind the imprisonment; but with George it was different, and he had yet to get used to it.

The next two days were passed in this miserable captivity. Helmar chafed at the confinement, but was forced to put up with it. He often thought of leaving and trusting to good luck in the outside world, but Osterberg was always at his side, ready to point out the madness of such a proceeding.

At last the welcome news came that Arabi, probably tired of his soldiers' wanton slaughter, had issued a proclamation that every European must leave the city within a certain time or abide by the consequences.

This was news indeed, and the whites flocked in hundreds to the ships in the harbour. So great was the crush that Helmar and Osterberg were only just able to secure a passage in the last one to leave. They determined to go to Port Said and there apply to the British authorities for assistance. What they were to do after that, fate should decide; both able-bodied men, they had no doubt that they could make themselves useful. Helmar's idea, now that he could speak a little Arabic, was to try to become an interpreter.

It was a dreary journey to Port Said, but they reached it in safety and proceeded immediately to the British Consul. Helmar was to be spokesman and explain the object of their visit. After some delay, they were told an interview would be granted in about half-an-hour's time. Leaving the office, they strolled about in order to kill time.

"We are in luck," said George, as they walked arm-in-arm. "I wonder what will happen."

"Being Germans, possibly we shall be sent about our business," said Osterberg, "and after all, it's only to be expected."

"I don't think so," replied his friend; "you don't know these people. I'll bet something will be done for us."

At this moment he caught sight, through the window, of a man dressed in European clothes crossing the square. The figure was so familiar that he paused and looked again.

"By Jove! If I'm not very much mistaken, that's our old friend the doctor we met on the boat going to Constantinople!"

Osterberg looked across at the man approaching.

"You are right. It is he," he exclaimed, and they both made straight for the doctor.

"Ah, my friends, we meet sooner than we anticipated. I am delighted to see you, but am sorry for your plight. But come," he went on, shaking hands heartily, "this is no place to talk, we will go to my quarters."

Helmar and his friend followed the doctor to his rooms.

"So you managed to escape from Alexandria?" said Doctor Dixon, as he leant back in his chair after listening to the young men's story. "Well, considering all things, you are lucky. Arabi Pasha, or his followers, are about the most inhuman devils I ever came across. And to think Arabi was one of the Khedive's most trusted ministers! Well, well, we live and learn!"

"Now the point comes, what are we to do?" said George. "This rebellion has robbed us of our means of living, and we are simply thrown on the world without resource—at least without money. We have been to see the consul, but cannot do so for half-an-hour."

The doctor laughed. George felt angry at this outburst of merriment at their troubles, and his face showed it.

"There, there, my lad," said the officer, becoming serious, "I was not laughing at your troubles, but the way you put them. Now I dare say we can do something for you. You say you speak Arabic. Well," as George nodded in assent, "I'll see the consul and try to use my influence with him in getting you a job as interpreter. How'll that do?"

"Excellently," replied our hero, beaming with delight; "but how about Osterberg?"

"Ah, well, we'll look after him. He has his bank to go to, and I don't suppose for a moment Arabi will be allowed to remain in Alexandria for long. In fact, news came through this morning that the British warships were bombarding the place already, and if that is so, the blue-jackets will soon clear the town of the rabble. In the meantime provision will be made for him."

Osterberg thanked him for his kind words, and the trio fell to discussing their journey from Varna to Constantinople.

"By the way," said the doctor, "didn't you say that another fellow left the University with you? He played you a scurvy trick or something—didn't you say?"

"Yes, you mean Mark Arden," said Helmar quickly.

"Was that his name? You didn't tell me before. Strange——"

"Why, what do you mean?" asked both young men in a breath.

"Oh, it's nothing. Only some weeks ago a young German of that name came here and he was found some employment. I forget exactly what. Anyhow the fellow misbehaved himself—stole some money or something and was imprisoned. There was a frightful scene when sentence was passed on him. He swore revenge for what he called 'the insulting treatment,' was taken away to the cells, and three days afterwards escaped."

"What was he like?" asked George.

The doctor described him. There was no doubt about it, it was certainly Mark.

"The scoundrel," said Helmar, bitterly, "to think he should disgrace himself in such a manner! Has anything been heard of him since?"

"No, we found no trace at all, and I shouldn't be surprised if he made his way into the rebel camp. But come, we must get to business. Osterberg can remain here until we return."

Helmar followed his friend over to the consul's office. The doctor left him for a moment outside while he interviewed the arbitrator of his fate.

Whilst waiting the result, Helmar could not help thinking of the perfidious Mark. What a viper he had been, and how quickly he had again fallen across his path! One thing was certain, if ever Helmar met him again, he would extort from him the money he had stolen, and denounce him for the rascal he was.

His reflections were cut short by the door being thrown open and a sharp summons for him to enter.

George found himself in a bare-looking office. The only furniture consisted of a desk, one or two hard, uncomfortable chairs, and a long, wooden bench. For decoration the wall was covered with innumerable paper files and maps. He had no time for inspection. He was standing in front of the desk, seated at which was a slight man. He was partially bald, and his face matched his hair—it was brick-dust colour. His features were small, though clear and sharply cut, while his eyes were jet black and keenly penetrating. The doctor was standing beside him, and the pair eyed the young man as he stepped forward.

"German," said the man, without taking his eyes from Helmar's face. "Any relatives in the country?"

"No, sir," replied George without hesitation.

"Want work, eh? Um," and he bit the end of his pen; "you speak Arabic, Dr. Dixon tells me?"

"Yes, sir."

"How much do you know?" he asked in that language.

George replied in the same tongue, and the rest of the conversation was carried on in it.

"Well, I can't promise you anything now at once, but Dr. Dixon recommends you highly, so that if we require any one, I have no doubt you will suit. You speak Arabic well for a man only a few months in the country."

"I speak English and French as well, sir," broke in Helmar, "and——"

"Yes, yes, I have no doubt—that will do. You will hear from me as soon as it is possible."

The doctor smiled at the way the interview was closed, but George simply expressed his thanks and walked out. Presently the doctor joined him, and the two walked back to the quarters.

"Well, what do you think of him?" asked the doctor.

"Who? The consul? A smart-looking man."

"A little abrupt, eh?"

"Yes, but all business men are more or less like that. If he finds me something to do, it will be a relief, and anyway I can never thank you sufficiently for what you have done. It is strange, I always seem to be under obligations. First Mariam, then Naoum, and now you."

"Never mind that, my boy, every one must start in life, and to get that start one has to be under obligations to some one, if it's only your parents. Now about quarters? I'll arrange that you have a spare room with your friend in my house, and you must be my guests until something turns up. No, no more thanks, you've done quite enough in that line already."

In a few hours the two friends, Osterberg and George, were installed in the doctor's house. He was a bachelor, and his place was comfortably arranged. Everything he had he placed at their disposal, and for the next three or four days they thoroughly enjoyed themselves. At last the summons George had awaited came. After the doctor had finished his hospital duties he returned home with the announcement.

"Our fleet has bombarded Alexandria, and the blue-jackets have landed," he cried, as he stepped into the sitting-room. "You, Osterberg, will be able to return to your bank, and you, Helmar, the consul is going to send to the general commanding the forces there as an interpreter. Everything will be arranged here, you will be engaged at a certain salary before you go, and I believe you leave to-night."

The news was so good and had come so suddenly that neither of the young men knew what to say, they were so overjoyed. At length their feelings burst out in a torrent of thanks, from which the kindly doctor took refuge by leaving the room.



CHAPTER XI

A MYSTERIOUS MESSENGER

Everything turned out as the doctor had said, and at seven o'clock they bade good-bye to their friend and protector, and left for the transport.

They had three hours to spare before the boat left, and to fill in the time they went for a walk round the port.

"It seems to me the most marvellous thing, the way in which we have fallen on our feet," said George, as they walked slowly along. "No one can doubt but that a Higher Power guides our footsteps. The miraculous escapes I have so far had teach me this, if I had needed any teaching."

"Yes, and the providential way we have been brought together astonishes me still more," answered his companion. "Let us turn down here, it will take us out of the town; we have plenty of time. I don't suppose either of us will have much opportunity for pleasure after this. I say, isn't Dr. Dixon a brick?"

"Rather! I only wish I was going to see more of him."

They had turned into a quiet street, which rapidly brought them to the outskirts of the town. The houses on either side stood right up to the pavement, and appeared to be of the better class. This portion of Port Said was much more picturesque than the parts of Cairo and Alexandria to which our hero was used, and he remarked upon it.

As they neared the end of the street, an Arab turned into it, from one of the many bye-ways, and came quickly towards them. He was a picturesque-looking man, dressed in his native garb. His dusky polished skin shone in the evening light, and he hurried along with a light, easy, swaying stride, his every movement displaying the athletic qualities that his robes tended to hide. As he approached the two friends, his watchful black eyes glanced quickly up and down the street, and then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, rested with a keen, penetrating look upon Helmar.

Without slackening his pace for a moment, or giving the least indication of his intention, he suddenly held out his hand and a piece of paper fluttered at our hero's feet, and the fellow passed swiftly on.

The whole thing was done so suddenly, that neither of the friends had time to say a word before the man had passed; and when, after picking up the paper, they looked round for him, he had disappeared as quickly as he had come.

George gazed at his companion, holding the missive in his hand, and burst out laughing.

"What a queer chap! If it weren't that he touched me as he passed, and I felt that he was flesh and blood, I should be inclined to think he was a ghost. I wonder what he is up to?"

"Examine the paper. Doubtless that will enlighten us," said the practical Osterberg. "If I'm not mistaken, this is some game, in which we are wanted to participate."

George examined the paper, turning it over and over wonderingly. It was a dirty envelope, of the cheaper kind, sealed down and addressed to him.

"The mystery deepens. It's from some one who knows me, evidently. The writing seems familiar, too. I wonder——"

"Confound it, man, open it!" broke in his impatient companion. "You are right about the handwriting. It is familiar."

Helmar tore the envelope open, and examined the contents. It was a brief note, signed by Mark Arden.

The two read the contents eagerly.

"Dear George,

"I have just found out you are in the town. For certain reasons, I cannot meet you in public; but, if you will meet me at the last Mosque outside the town, on the lake's edge (any one can direct you), in half-an-hour, I shall be glad to return you the money I borrowed at Varna.

"Yours ever,

"Mark."

As they finished reading this extraordinary epistle, the two young men silently looked at one another. Osterberg was the first to break the silence.

"Well, of all the unadulterated cheek I ever heard of, this beats everything! I suppose he's going to pay you out of what he stole from the barracks. What are you going to do about it?"

Helmar looked long at the paper before replying. He was trying to find out what lay hidden under these lines. Somehow, he could not bring himself to believe in their genuineness. There was a deeply suspicious air about the whole thing, not the least being the delivery of the note. At last he appeared to make up his mind.

"We'll see it through. If there is any trickery, I dare say we can hold our own. Will you come?"

"Rather!" cried his friend. "But have we time?"

Helmar looked at his watch. It still wanted two hours to the time he must be aboard the transport, and he had no doubt the quay could be reached in time.

"Oh, yes, heaps of time! We'd better find out where this particular Mosque is. We'll ask the first person we meet."

At this moment an elderly Arab came along from behind, as if in answer to his expressed intention, and Helmar stopped him, and inquired the way. The old fellow grinned, showing a row of perfect white teeth, which, in a man of his apparent years, astonished the companions.

"It is not far," he said, in a peculiar, grating voice, "and I am going that way myself. It will take but a few minutes."

Osterberg looked inquiringly at George.

"All right, come along. You lead the way, old man," said Helmar, "and we will follow."

Helmar slipped his hand in his coat pocket to make sure his revolver was there, and, having satisfied himself on the point, hurried along behind the Arab, talking and laughing with his friend, as if he had not the slightest doubt but that everything was fair and above-board.

The limit of the town was reached, and they passed along the sandy road until they came to some gardens. Here they turned off, and soon found themselves in a lonely, obscure sort of disused brick-field surrounded by some tumble-down hovels. At this spot their guide suddenly stopped.

"That is the Mosque, in the distance," he said, and without waiting for reply, hurried off at a pace that belied his age.

"I believe there's some trickery," said Osterberg. "I half wish we hadn't come. What's to be done?"

"That old man has brought us to this spot for a purpose," said Helmar. "Why didn't he leave us at the gardens?" A dark look came into his eyes as he spoke. "Well, we'll give Mr. Mark ten minutes to turn up," he went on. "After that, we'll go."

The two young men stood for a minute or two, kicking their heels about, and, at last, Osterberg got so impatient that he suddenly burst out——

"Come on, don't let us wait here, let us get back to the quay. This is some beastly hoax. The place is as silent as the grave—it gives me the creeps."

"I said we would give him ten minutes, and we will do so," said George, determinedly. "I'm not going until the time has elapsed. Hallo!" as he caught sight of a figure approaching, "here comes somebody. Perhaps it's Mark."

His surmise proved correct. Mark came quickly up, and held out his hand. He was dressed in Egyptian costume, and with his dark complexion and black eyes might easily have passed as a native.

"Ah! Helmar, and you, Osterberg!" he said. "I am glad to see you." Then, as neither took the proffered hand, he drew back. "Why, what's up? Aren't you going to shake hands?"

"You said in your note," exclaimed our hero, impatiently, "that you wanted to return the money you owe me. Where is it?"

"Ah, that's it!" answered Mark, with apparent relief. "Well, if you'll come into this house I'll give it you. Oh, it's all right!" as Helmar did not offer to move, "there's not a soul about besides ourselves. Come along."

"But why can't you pay me here? I have no time to fool about, and must get back to the quay in time to catch the boat."

"I know—at least, that is—all right," said Mark, seeing that he had made a mistake. "But you don't understand. This is where I have to live."

"Since you robbed those who helped you here, eh?" said George, contemptuously.

"I see you have heard of that, then," replied Mark, with a smile. "But really I had no intention of stealing, I only borrowed it as I borrowed it from you, and am equally as ready to return it as I am yours."

"Why don't you do so, then?" said Helmar, a little mollified at the man's open words. "Look here, Mark, I don't want to say hard things, but if you're not a knave you are a fool, and the sooner you pull yourself together and live a decent life, the better!"

"Oh, don't preach, Helmar!" cried Arden impatiently. "Allow me to do as I think fit. Now, will you come and get that money, or must I, on account of some silly notion of yours, go and fetch it? Of course, if you will not, then——"

"All right, lead the way," said Helmar, "I'll follow."

Arden led the way to a tumble-down, two-storied building, and the trio entered. It was dark inside.

"You'd better follow me pretty closely," said their guide, "the floor is none too sound, and you may have a tumble if you don't."

The two friends followed close up to their guide, and as they turned into a room, Osterberg fancied he heard a sound proceed from it. As nothing further alarmed him, he put it down to his straining nerves. As soon as they were inside, the door closed sharply behind them, and the ominous click of the lock made them both start. Helmar was about to say something, when Mark anticipated him.

"Hold on while I strike a light. The beastly wind has blown the door to."

This was such palpable nonsense that George expostulated.

"There isn't a breath of wind, man. Hurry up with the light!"

Arden fumbled with some matches for a moment, and then a light was struck.



"Trapped, by Heavens!" shouted Helmar, as the light revealed the room filled with armed Arabs.

"Yes, as you say—trapped!" said Arden, with a leer on his dark face. "You are the fool, Helmar, not I. But see here, I am on business. Not of my own, but that of the person who employs me."

Helmar was gazing at their surroundings and calculating the chances of escape. As far as he could see, there were at least a dozen fierce-looking Arabs standing in a ring round the walls, and the only mode of egress was a broken window and the door. The door was securely locked, but the window was not only broken, but the wall below it was in decay and looked as if one heavy blow against it would bring the whole thing down—it seemed to be only held up by a couple of wooden props set up from the floor on either side of the window.

He had no time for any careful survey, for Arden, observing his wandering gaze, exclaimed——

"It's no use, you can't escape. At a word from me these Arabs will kill you. Now, listen to what I have to say. As you know, Arabi is in open rebellion. I am employed by him. I am going round the country endeavouring to secure European recruits. He knows that he has practically only the British to deal with, and he wants to get as many Europeans as he can on his side. Now, in bringing you here, I am really doing you a good turn," he went on, with cool effrontery. "I am helping you to a far better position and infinitely more money than you will have with the British authorities. If you will join us you will be made an officer in his army, at a big salary, and you will be liberated at once; if you refuse—well, these men have their orders and you will never leave this place alive."

"So you would be a murderer as well as a thief!" cried George, with flashing eyes. "I will not talk about ingratitude to such a cur as you. You probably do not understand the word. I have this day signed to assist the British authorities to the utmost of my power, and——"

"Yes, I am quite aware of it," interrupted the villain. "Your movements have been watched from the moment you arrived in Port Said; but come—your answer. I have no time to waste."

Arden was holding the light in his hand. It was a small oil lamp, with uncovered flame. As he finished speaking, he held it out towards our hero, peering into his face. With a bound like a panther, George darted forward and seized the spluttering light. Giving one powerful twist, he wrenched it from the villain's hand, and, turning it upside down, a huge flame flashed out all over it. He dashed it to the ground and the burning oil ran over the floor, catching light to the pieces of worn-out mats scattered about, and in less time than it takes to write, the rotten boards flared up. Helmar, seeing what had happened, backed himself to the wall, dragging his companion with him.

His movements had been so rapid that even Arden's usual presence of mind had failed him; but, as he saw the flame burst from the flooring, he shouted to the Arabs to seize their prisoners.

He had, however, calculated without his host. The house was so rotten and dry that the flames spread with great rapidity, and the Arabs, in terror of their lives, made for the door. Seeing this, almost blinded by the smoke, Helmar and Osterberg dashed to the window, and, tearing away the two supports, sprang on to the sill. The supports gone, the weight of their bodies finished the work that time had begun, and with a terrible crash the wall gave way, and the companions fell with it. Springing to their feet, quite unhurt, they found themselves out in the open, and ran off at top speed in the direction of the town.

They were not a moment too soon, for Arden, at the head of the Arabs who had escaped by the door, came round the corner and followed in hot pursuit.

It was almost dark, but George remembered the direction from which they had approached the desolate house, and with unerring judgment led the way as fast as his legs could carry him.

Osterberg followed his fleet-footed friend, keeping pace with difficulty, and they soon reached the boundary of the gardens.

"Which way now?" panted Osterberg, as the dim outline of trees loomed through the darkness.

"Follow me," cried George in answer, as without a moment's hesitation he turned a sharp corner.

Each felt rather than knew that the swift-footed Arabs were coming ever nearer, and that their only means of salvation lay in strategy. For this reason George preferred the gardens to the open roads. Since Arabi's rising, Europeans had taken to staying in their houses at night, rather than run any risk of a stab in the dark, so that there was little hope of meeting any one who could help them in the open thoroughfare. The gardens appealed to Helmar on account of their dense foliage and excellent cover. In case the worst should come to the worst, they would at least afford them shelter, and he hoped against hope that by this means he could give their enemies the slip.

The patter of feet behind them had now grown louder and perfectly distinct, and at times Helmar even fancied he could hear the heavy breathing of the pursuers.

Darting like a brace of hares through the labyrinth of paths, the two young men kept on. Their pace was terrific, but the sound of feet was still not far behind them.

"George," panted Osterberg, as he drew up alongside his friend, "we can't keep this up. Can't we take the scrub and hide?"

"Not yet, not yet, keep going, we shall find a place soon."

Just then a light appeared among the trees to their right, and inspired with fresh hope they renewed their exertions, searching vainly for a path by which to reach it. Suddenly an idea struck George.

"Never mind the light. Here, take this path to the left. Arden and his Arabs are sure to think we have made for that light in the hopes of assistance."

Without hesitation they turned to the left, and in a few minutes came to an open gate in the boundary fence. For a second they paused to listen and recover their wind.

"You were right, George," whispered his companion, "I cannot hear the footsteps, they have gone in the other direction. Come along, let's hurry. Do you know where we are?"

"Haven't the faintest notion," was the comforting reply.

"Well then, I suppose we must trust to luck. Which way?" he asked, as they stepped into the dusty road.

George glanced quickly up and down. He saw some twinkling lights to the right.

"There we are, that's the town," and the two set off again at a run.

The lights became clearer and more numerous as they hurried along, and at last Helmar stopped running.

"I think we are safe now. Listen!"

The companions strained their ears to catch the slightest sound from behind, but they could hear nothing.

"Thank goodness, they have lost us. I don't think we need fear further pursuit," said George. "Now, I wonder if we are in time to catch our boat." Fearing to strike a match to look at the time, they hurried on towards the town, and in a few minutes reached the outskirts. With hurried pace they made for the landing-stage, and reached it a few minutes before the gangway was about to be hauled aboard the transport.

"A narrow shave in more ways than one," said Helmar, as they stepped on deck. "Come, we must report ourselves to the captain. I don't think we had better say anything about what has happened."

Osterberg agreed, and the two young men reported themselves at once.



CHAPTER XII

THE NEW OCCUPATION

The ironclad that bore Helmar and his young friend to Alexandria also carried a great number of refugees, all bound for their homes in Europe. The time passed so pleasantly, that when their destination came into view, it was with feelings of regret that the young men prepared to disembark.

As the docks loomed up, the evidences of the bombardment became distinctly visible. How different everything seemed now, from the peaceful business-like appearance the place presented when Helmar first landed on those self-same docks! The great heavy ironclads lay at anchor all around, silent and harmless enough to look at, but, withal, a mighty latent power protecting the shattered city. On shore the destruction seemed terrible; forts in all directions could be seen, battered and tumbled heaps of debris, a ghastly tribute to England's mighty naval power. Buildings that had been before all full of life and bustling activity were nothing but charred ruins.

Altogether, the picture that presented itself, as the vessel slowly forged towards the shore, was one of appalling significance, and as George and Osterberg took in the terrible details, neither could help a feeling of regret at the necessity of such things.

"It seems so terrible," said Osterberg, with a sigh, "to think that, for the sake of one great villain, all this destruction should have taken place."

"Yes, but you must not forget that if it hadn't, probably there would not be a single European left alive in the city," answered the practical Helmar. "Personally I glory in a power that is so quick to avenge, and only regret that it did not come in time to prevent the terrible massacres of the hound Arabi. 'Egypt for the Egyptians' is no excuse for such wanton destruction of human life. If I am any judge there'll be a terrible reckoning for that gentleman and his satellites in the near future. England is roused now, and some one will have to answer for it."

Helmar was an enthusiast. He admired and believed in the English as a race, and gloried, in a broad-minded way, in their mighty power. Since he had left his own country, the English he had met had, at once, held out a helping hand to him, and there was no thought in his mind but of gratitude towards them.

"We will not say 'Good-bye,'" said George, as the young men shook hands on the quay. "Some day I expect we shall come together again. Your life is, apparently, to be of a more peaceful nature than mine, and perhaps it is as well; but still, these are troublous times, and one never can tell what may occur to bring us together. Au revoir, and good luck."

Osterberg replied in a similar strain, concluding with the fatherly advice, "Do not put your head into too many traps," then hastened off to seek his bank, or, at any rate, what might still remain of it.

Although not an enlisted man, Helmar was now, more or less, bound down by the same rules as governed the marines. There were many restrictions put upon him, and his associations were entirely of a martial description. He was, of course, billeted with the sailors, who only numbered some four hundred, and his duties consisted mainly of attending the orderly room in his capacity of interpreter. To a man of his energy and brains, this soon became simply intolerable, and he quickly determined to find other and more exciting means of occupying his time.

Directly British forces landed from the ironclads, Arabi and his soldiery abandoned the city and took up their position at Kafr Dowar, a few miles to the south. A city patrol was quickly organized, consisting of blue-jackets and soldiers, and, in order to keep his mind and body employed, Helmar obtained permission to join these parties when he was not otherwise occupied.

After the bombardment had ceased and before they evacuated the city, the rebels set light to hundreds of buildings, using petroleum, the better to work their fell purpose. The damage done in the European quarters was terrific, and many of the streets had become simply impassable, fallen ruins and dead and charred bodies in most instances blocking the way. All buildings that had escaped the incendiaries were looted from top to bottom, and not a vestige of anything valuable was left by the rabble.

There was plenty of work, therefore, to be done in the city for some time to come. Notwithstanding the fact that the place was now in the hands of the British, acts of incendiarism were still being perpetrated at intervals. Natives who had remained in the town were the chief offenders, and it was a task of great difficulty for the patrols to stop the wanton destruction.

One evening an alarm was given, and the patrol, which Helmar chanced to be with, was ordered to the spot. The conflagration was near one of the city gates, and, as the little party approached, a mob of Bedouins was seen hovering round, evidently with the intention of looting.

The officer in charge of the patrol gave the order for his men to conceal themselves, and the whole party waited developments. Avoiding the fire the Bedouins entered another house, creeping cautiously to avoid detection. The watchers realized at once what was on; the fire had been started to distract attention from them, and, meanwhile, they were looting to their hearts' content. There were about twenty of the ragged creatures, and, as the last one entered the building, the patrol dashed in after them.

There was a short, sharp fight, and then the would-be looters endeavoured to escape, but the trap was perfect, and, with one or two exceptions, the whole party were captured, taken to the Market Square and shot.

Such incidents were of frequent occurrence, and often the native police were the offenders; no mercy was shown, however; those found guilty of pillaging only were flogged, while incendiaries were shot.

Helmar found his knowledge of Arabic brought plenty of work. The residents and shop-owners required much help, and, in many instances, permission was granted to erect makeshift places in the public thoroughfares to carry on business.

Destitute native families had to be provided for, homeless orphans and widowed mothers to be looked after. All these required people like Helmar to deal with them, and he found that his knowledge of their language brought him into constant demand.

As often as not, his task was an unpleasant one. A fight, a tussle, a battle fair and square wouldn't have troubled him in the least, but when his work demanded the witnessing of prisoners being shot or flogged, he often felt, although he knew they deserved it, an absolute loathing for his duty. However, he was not always required for these things, and when they came, they were soon over, and, in the midst of all the bustle, he quickly forgot his momentary weakness.

On one occasion only did his feelings get the better of him.

A row of prisoners were lying down on their stomachs, moaning in the courtyards, awaiting their punishment; men of all nationalities and ages, varying from fifteen to seventy. Each was, in turn, tied to the pillar with his back bared, and received so many strokes from the cat at the hands of a marine, whilst the officer in command counted each blow, as it fell on the lacerated back. As the skin gradually turned red, blue, and then swelled, and the shrieks and yells of the victim filled the air, Helmar uttered a suppressed groan and turned his head, but he could not leave the courtyard. A fine specimen of an Arab had attracted his attention, and he wondered how he would submit to the treatment. His curiosity was soon satisfied. The man was led up to the wall and securely tied, then, setting his teeth, took his punishment without flinching or the utterance of a word. Whilst the marines were untying him, George saw that the man was almost fainting, and, as he tottered away, he went to his assistance and supported him to the doorway. Here he offered him a tin of water, but, to his utter astonishment, the man refused it.

"No, no," and the man waved the refreshing liquid away. Then he explained in broken accents that it was a month of fasting, when no good Moslem either drinks, eats, or smokes between sunrise and sunset.

Helmar was deeply impressed with the man's faith, which was strong enough to deny himself in his extremity for the sake of his religion.

The rigorous manner in which crime was punished soon had its effect, and matters began to calm down inside the town.

Incendiarism and robbery gradually ceased, citizens began to breathe more freely, and business revived.

Helmar's occupation now began to grow more monotonous, and he looked about for something fresh. He found there was much work to be done in repairing the fortifications and building fresh ones. In this work native labour was largely requisitioned, and George saw an opportunity of employment in dealing with the workers. He soon obtained work here in a post of some slight importance, and, in a short time, proved himself so capable that the officers and those in authority began to notice him.

Rumour had it that Arabi at Kafr Dowar was preparing to attack the town, and in consequence the authorities prepared to receive him. A large number of soldiers, blue-jackets, and marines with Gatling guns were landed, and the resources of the town were taxed to the utmost. Night and day the work of fortification went on, and guns were mounted at many points on the southern parts of the town.

In this instance rumour was correct, and the rebel Pasha began to show fight. A contingent of his mounted infantry was known to be somewhere in the district of Ramleh water-works, so two regiments of mounted men were sent out in the direction to disperse them. They met, and a fierce but short encounter ensued, and the Egyptians fled towards Ramleh for reinforcements. This necessitated the dispatch of artillery and more troops to protect the place. On arriving there they found the ridge along the canal occupied by the enemy, and the water-works in danger. It soon became patent to the officer in command that the hill which commanded the position must be strongly held, and big guns mounted there. To this end he communicated with the town, and considerable delay was caused.

It was at this time that Helmar received the order to join the forces at Ramleh. He had just turned into his blankets after a sixteen-hours day's work, and he felt that the much-needed rest was well earned. He was just dozing off to sleep, when a head was put through the doorway and a voice called him—

"Helmar!"

George was on his feet in an instant.

"Yes!" he answered, recognizing the voice of an engineer.

"You are wanted at once by the Colonel. Hurry up!"

George did not wait an instant. He had lain down to sleep in his clothes, so putting on his helmet he ran out towards the Commander's quarters. In a few moments he found himself in the presence of his chief.

"Helmar, I want you to join the officer in charge at Ramleh. The attack, I believe, is expected to be centred on that point at daylight, and there the defences are very incomplete. This is a case of emergency, or I should not send for you, for I am aware you have been at work for more than sixteen hours. However, you will take your gang to the point at once and render all the assistance possible. That will do!"

The prospect, to most men, would not have been alluring, but to Helmar it was one of unmixed pleasure. True, he could have done with some sleep, but the hope of being in the thick of the fight on the morrow dwarfed into insignificance his desire for rest.

In a short time he had aroused his blackies, and grumbling at being disturbed, they marched with their picks and shovels in the direction of the point to be defended.

The enemy was still keeping up a desultory fire, and the solemn "boom" of their heavy guns could now and then be heard, while the hiss of the flying shell grated harshly on the still night air. The blackies were used to this sort of thing, and marched along as unconcernedly as if it were the natural state of things, only now and then would be heard a remark as a shell came a little nearer than usual.

The spot was reached, and in a few minutes Helmar was superintending the throwing up of trenches. Approaching an officer in charge of a party of sappers close to him, he fell into conversation.

"They expect an attack here at daylight?" he said, by way of greeting.

"Yes, Arabi has found our weak spot, and the General has information of his intention. We shall give them a warm reception, but the trouble is, we have no guns of any kind mounted yet."

"Well, what do you think will happen?"

"Can't say, I'm sure," replied the officer, looking towards the east. "I believe at the first streak of daylight they are going to try to mount some of the naval guns on that steep hill the other side of the railway. I don't quite see how it is to be done under fire."

Helmar looked over at the hill in question. Well might the officer doubt the ability of the troops to mount the guns under fire. The hill was very steep and open, not a fraction of cover on it anywhere. Every man on the work would be exposed to the enemy's fire. The task looked a hopeless one.

"Yes, you're right," he said at last, "it will be a tough job. How do they propose to go about it?"

"Set the blackies to haul them up," was the laconic reply.

Helmar did not answer. The first streaks of daylight were already appearing, and his work was nearly completed. Already the fighting men of the camp were on the move and about to occupy the trenches. As the daylight began to broaden, he saw that the work of hauling the guns up on to the hill had begun. Shortly after, the fighting line occupied his trenches, and his gang were dismissed and sent back to their quarters. His work was completed, and he made his way towards the hill. Already Arabi's men had advanced to the attack, and firing had started at all points. It was quickly evident that the information was correct, and this portion of the town was to receive the main attack, for a terrific fusillade was opened by the enemy's artillery.

The noise soon became deafening, the enemy's heavy guns being answered by the few small ones that the British had been able to get into position during the night. There was no doubt that, until the heavy naval batteries were got into position, it would go hard with the defending forces.

Helmar hurried along in face of the terrific fire, totally heedless of the danger he was running, until he reached the railway.

Hurrying on with the greatest possible speed, he reached the base of the hill, where he stood watching the efforts of the men. It was frightful work, the great heavy guns moved ever so slowly, and to George the outlook seemed hopeless.

He had not noticed the officer in charge standing close by him, but as a sergeant ran up to receive some order his attention was attracted, and he recognized a Captain of Engineers to whom he had been of use several times since his arrival in Alexandria.

The officer looked very much concerned about something as he stood there directing the sergeant. At the very moment the man went off to do the bidding of his superior, the officer turned and caught sight of George standing there. Beckoning him to his side, he asked—

"Is not your name Helmar?"

"Yes, sir," replied George.

"What are you doing now?" demanded the officer.

"I have just finished the trenches, sir; my men have gone back and I was about to follow, when I stopped to watch the hauling up of those guns," said George.

"Ah! Those guns are giving much trouble. But I have just hit upon an idea which will save time and labour, and you are the very man I want to help carry it out. Come with me for a few minutes and I will give you the necessary instructions."

George followed the officer promptly.



CHAPTER XIII

HELMAR PROVES HIS METAL

As George followed the officer he wondered what the plan was and in what manner his services could be of use in its execution. So far his occupations had been many and various, and, being willing and prepared to do any mortal thing, he felt no anxiety about the task he was to have next.

Having reached the spot where the operations were going on, the officer, addressing Helmar, said—

"Unless we get those guns into position quickly, there is no telling what may happen. The situation is getting very serious, but if I can carry out my plan successfully there will be nothing to fear. It is necessary, however, to have a trustworthy and fearless man for the job, for he will not only have a hard task but will be in a warm corner."

"Give me your orders, sir, and I will do my best to carry them out," said George, without hesitation.

"Well, it will take a long time to get the guns up by manual labour," said his companion meditatively, "and it seems to me that we might easily adopt another means. Now," he went on, in decisive tones, "there are plenty of ropes and wire cables, and my suggestion is, we fix two blocks, one on the top of the hill and the other on the railway line opposite to it, and then, fastening a cable to the gun and passing it through the pulleys, secure it to a locomotive and—the thing is done."

The officer looked at George for a moment, wondering if he grasped the situation clearly. The plan was of such a simple nature that he could not fail to do so.

"Do you understand what I mean?" asked the officer.

"Perfectly," replied George, "it seems to me a splendid plan."

"Good!" exclaimed the officer. "Now, I want you to undertake the securing of the block on the hill." Then turning to the men, he called out, "Cease hauling there! Sergeant," he went on, "send in word at once to dispatch a locomotive down the line to us with the least possible delay."

The work assigned to George was of great importance and of great danger. The enemy had already trained their heavy guns on to the hill, and it was only their bad gunnery that made it possible for the officer's plan to be carried out. In every direction shells were flying, bursting overhead, on either side, short, and far over the city, till the air was filled with flying fragments of metal; every moment was a constant threat, a constant danger to the little party of blue-jackets at the foot of the hill.

Without waiting for further orders, Helmar, with the assistance of one or two of the eager sailors, selected an iron block of great strength, some necessary tools and ropes, and began the ascent.

The first part of the climb was a little sheltered, but, as they proceeded, the shells hurtled away over their heads in rapid succession, and as the hissing missiles sped on their way, the men involuntarily ducked their heads as though to avoid them. The devoted little party had barely a hundred and fifty yards to go to reach the summit, but every foot of the way they knew they would be exposed to this murderous fire.

The battle was raging all along the south of the city, a dense cloud of smoke covering the land like a pall, hiding the glaring light of the sun and making the atmosphere more densely oppressive than ever. The little party toiled wearily up the hill, the perspiration pouring off them as they struggled beneath their iron burdens, prepared to do or die. Helmar led the way, and never for a moment paused, although the weight of the heavy block was almost unbearable. He thought nothing of the flying shells, nothing of the death he was facing at every step, only of reaching the top and securing the pulley. A few more yards and the journey would be over.

"Come on, lads, only another step or two!" he cried, gasping for breath in the parching air.

"Ay, ay," came the answer in various tones.

At last the top was reached. The sight now became fearful; the bursting shells, ploughing up the ground on all sides, were enough to strike terror into any one's heart. The blue-jackets, used to facing fire of all kinds, simply laughed and joked as they pointed out the inaccuracy of the firing.

"Them savages 'ad better go back to their bows and arrers," exclaimed one of the men, as he saw a shell pitch about half-way short of the hill. "Blowed if they could 'it an 'aystack, the black divils!"

His companions laughed, and it did all hands good. Notwithstanding their indomitable pluck, the nervous strain was great, and the laugh relieved them. The hill-top was very bare, and, as George glanced round for a means of securing the pulley, he began to think that after all he had no easy task. The only possible means of securing it was to drive strong poles deep and firmly into the earth, and then fix the pulleys to them.

As Helmar stood examining the spot, a splinter of one of the shells struck the earth close to him, and glancing off, whizzed past within an inch of his face. Springing back, he turned to a man near him.

"That was a close call," he said.

"Ay, and it might ha' been closer," was the solemn reply.

There was no time to be lost, Helmar had made up his mind, and gave his instructions to the men. Taking a crowbar, about seven feet long, they drove it into the earth until there was little more than two feet of it remaining above ground. Just as this was finished, a shell pitched and burst barely twenty yards from them, and the whole party narrowly escaped death. The explosion tore up the ground until it looked as if a plough had recently passed over it.

For fear the crowbar should not be firm enough to hold the weight of the gun, Helmar now fixed a stay to it and secured it to the ground; then collecting all the loose, heavy stones around, had them rolled into position so as to prevent the stake from drawing.

The hill was now becoming too hot to hold them; the Arabs, bent on dislodging them, continued their fire with greater accuracy, until it became so deadly that the rest of the work had to be done lying down.

The process of fastening the iron block to the crowbar was comparatively easy, and yet it was during this operation that the first casualty happened. George was lashing the wire rope round the stanchion, with the assistance of one of the men, when, without a cry or a moan, his companion fell back on the ground, shot clean through the chest. Helmar was terribly shocked, but continued his work, the man's place being at once filled by one of the others, and so the task was completed.

"If that doesn't hold, nothing will," exclaimed George, ducking involuntarily, as a shot passed over his head. "Come on, boys, we'd better go back. No, on second thoughts, go you down and haul up the cable, I'll remain here and take care of him," pointing to the dying sailor.

Without a word, the men darted off, and Helmar was left alone.

While waiting for the return of his comrades, he laid the dying man in a comfortable position, nursing his head on his lap. This was the first time Helmar had been under fire. His anticipation of it had been somewhat unnerving, but when he found himself in the midst of the hail of lead and iron, his spirits had at once risen and he felt a wild longing to shout defiance at the distant Arabs.