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"It is not worth my while to do so, or you may rest assured that long knife in your belt would not prevent me." To gain time he went on. "Now, what do you want me to do? Apparently the game is in your hands—doubtless you have some purpose beyond thwarting Naoum?"
The tone Helmar had adopted seemed to lull Arden's suspicions, for, as he put his question, the latter, before he replied, strode up to the bed and seated himself upon it, always, however, keeping his eyes upon his companion.
Arden seemed in no hurry to speak, he was endeavouring to penetrate George's innermost thoughts; when at last he did express himself it was as if weighing each word before he gave it utterance.
CHAPTER XXVI
A DASH FOR LIBERTY
"You are right, Helmar," he said, slowly. "I have another object in coming here." He paused for a moment, impatiently tugging at the fringe of his sash. "You remember I asked you at Port Said about joining Arabi?"
"I do—what about it?" said George, in tones of supreme indifference.
"That offer was made with the best of feeling towards you, and, as I thought, for your good. It would have brought you wealth, as it has me."
"And very nice comfortable means you adopted to attain my conversion, didn't you?" broke in Helmar, with upraised eyebrows.
"Well, perhaps the treatment was a little rough, but the intention was, nevertheless, sincere."
"Doubtless. Go on."
"Well," Mark went on, with eyes looking anywhere but at the man in front of him, "at that time I thought that Arabi would be bound to win the day, and we," with emphasis on the word, "should be made for life. But I was mistaken, and now it is plain to me that Arabi must fall."
Again he paused, as if waiting for comment from his companion, but none came, and he nervously continued, while Helmar kept his keen eyes fixed upon him.
"Of course I've made a pile of money," he went on, with a leer, "so that now I've only to get out of the country when the crash comes, and I can do anything I wish."
"Ah!" ejaculated Helmar, beginning to see through this man's scheming. "And you would get some one to help you do that, eh?" he added, unable to conceal his contempt, as he realized the sneaking character of this villain.
"Not necessarily," replied Arden, coldly. "I have in no way appeared in this Rebellion, and, therefore, nothing can be traced to my handiwork. The British cannot accuse me of having taken any part in the affair, and there is no one who can inform them of my share in it."
"But I could," said George sharply.
Arden smiled indulgently. He had no fear of Helmar; he considered him in his power.
"You cannot harm me, for you will never leave this place alive, unless—unless I choose."
"Well," said George, "granting that, what, then, do you propose? What is all this talk leading up to?"
"You, as you say, are the only man who is aware of the part I have played in this affair, except, perhaps, some of the men immediately under my control. Therefore I need not fear; but I should like to make doubly sure of my position against any accident. Although I can see no possibility of my share being known, I do not want to run any chances. Now, if I were to allow you to escape, I should have done you a good turn, for which, I have no doubt, you would be glad to make some return. This could be done by your statement to the British authorities of the assistance which I shall give you. Do you understand?"
"Yes; go on. Is that all?" And Helmar leant back in his chair, keenly listening for the sign from Naoum's agent.
"Yes, that is all. I offer you your release, with no possibility of re-capture or bodily harm, in return for which you will have to secure me immunity from the consequences of the part I have taken in the Rebellion. And a very fair offer I consider it, seeing that without my assistance you can never get away!"
As he ceased speaking George noted a slightly anxious expression on the man's face, but he said nothing. Waiting for a moment to see if Arden had anything further to say before he replied, he fancied he heard a light footfall outside the door. As his companion offered nothing further, he rose to his feet, and, with flashing eyes, gave him his answer.
"So, Mark Arden, you would again play the part of tempter, even in your last extremity, for notwithstanding your assertion to the contrary, I know that to be the state you are in. You cannot be other than a villain, you cannot even stand alone in your villainy, but must attempt to draw others into it. You try, with cunning purpose, to save yourself by forcing me, who have never done you harm, to become a participator in your crimes. You bid me lie to save you, you who have persecuted me from the moment of our meeting at Port Said until now, when you hold the threat of your vengeance over my head as an alternative to the non-compliance with your wishes. You dare to ask my assistance after the inhuman flogging you caused to be given me! You dare even to face me after such treatment! Liar! cheat! scoundrel that you are, I will be no party to your villainies! I have managed, with the help of those who are good and true, to save myself from the fate you would have wished for me. I have escaped from your toils thus far, I will now dare you to do your worst. If I am to die this time, it shall be fighting; no more imprisonment will I submit to, and least of all at your hands. Go!" he cried, his voice rising in anger, "go and call your guards! Bid them do the deed that you are too cowardly to perpetrate yourself! I care not that much for your power!" and he snapped his fingers in the air.
While he was still speaking Helmar had heard the scratching at the door—the signal was given. He now only waited for Arden to go and carry out his threat to call his guards. During his tirade the villain's face had shown the sneer so habitual to him, but, as Helmar's words gradually struck home, his expression changed to one of rage, and, as George ceased, Arden sprang up, and shaking his fist in his face, cried—
"You shall never live to see daylight! You have dared me to do this deed, and I will see that it is carried out! You have flouted my generosity and defied me, then your blood shall be on your own head," and striding to the wall, he disappeared through the secret door.
Helmar waited for the door to slam behind his retreating enemy, and then, dashing out into the passage, ran swiftly down it. A few moments sufficed to bring him to the door Naoum had told him of, and without hesitation he pushed it open and entered the room. As he passed in he heard the sound of the approaching guard, with Arden's voice excitedly urging them on.
He closed the door after him immediately, and as he did so he heard a voice close beside him from out of the darkness in which he found himself.
"Amman!" it said quickly.
"Allah is good!" replied George, without hesitation.
"And ever watchful!" was the instantaneous response.
Then, without another word, George felt himself seized by the arm, and unresistingly allowed himself to be led whither his guide pleased. A few steps, and the voice said—
"Bend low."
George complied, and passed through a narrow doorway. As he did so, he heard the door of the room he was leaving open and the guard rush in. The same instant the secret door, by which he was escaping, silently closed and the lock snapped to. No sooner had this occurred than his guide struck a light, and he found himself at the head of a flight of tiny, narrow, stone steps. Hurriedly they descended these, which seemed unending, and, before they reached the bottom, Helmar concluded they had passed down several hundreds of them.
The atmosphere became very damp and rank, all sound from above had died away, and for a while, at least, George thought they were safe. At the bottom they came to an earthen passage; along this they ran, the light from his guide's torch steering them through the many obstacles this apparently ancient and decayed passage presented. It was a weird flight, the ruddy glow on the broken and uneven walls and roof made the place very ghostly, while the flapping, whirring little bats shooting past their heads, often flying blindly into their faces, gave George a creepy sensation that was anything but pleasant.
At last they came to the end of the passage, and another flight of stone steps presented itself; this time they had to ascend. Half-way up they came to a solid stone wall, the sight of which filled George with dismay, but the guide, with perfectly assured action, stooped and in a moment touched a spring, and the solid mass revolved on a pivot, disclosing more steps. They passed through the opening, and the stone swung back into its original position as they hurried up the steps.
"We are quite safe from pursuit now," said the guide. "They cannot move that stone; only three persons know its secret—Naoum, Mariam, and I. We have nothing to fear until we reach the open air."
"When will that be?" asked Helmar, glad to think that they would at last leave this underground passage.
"At the top of these steps," replied the guide. "Then we shall have to reach a postern in the wall of the grounds. That is our greatest danger."
A few moments later they reached the end of the steps. A small wooden trap formed the outlet to this place. The guide raised it and looked out, then cautiously pushed his way up through it, and assisted Helmar to do the same; the trap was then replaced. As soon as he reached the open air George turned to see what outward sign of its presence the trap gave, and was surprised to see none. It was covered with a thin layer of soil, and, when replaced in its setting, a few scrapings of his guide's foot sufficed to obliterate all traces of it.
The place in which they now found themselves was the centre of a thick shrubbery, and before leaving it the guide went to reconnoitre. Presently he came back, having satisfied himself that the coast was clear.
"There is no sign of the guards," he explained, "but they cannot, I know, be far off. Come, we must run for it. There is no doubt that where they are, Naoum's men will be watching to help us."
Emerging from the thicket, the guide, followed by George, dashed across the open gardens towards another cluster of bushes. The night was one of supreme loveliness, the moon was up, and, though only in its first quarter, shone brilliantly. This was one of the dangers of their journey, but, even so, it assisted them as well, for if it was likely to betray the fugitives, it would also warn them of the approach of the enemy.
As they ran across the open, George could see the palace some distance off. The whole place was lit up, and the flashing lights warned him that his escape had brought about this activity so late at night.
At last they reached the thicket, and were congratulating themselves on their success when suddenly the guide seized Helmar's arm, and dragged him down under a bush.
"Hist! there is some one near us! Listen!"
George could not hear a sound, but the sharp ears of his guide had detected something which caused him alarm. Crouching down beneath the bush, they waited in silence; then, as nothing further occurred, the guide cautiously crept out and again listened. Apparently satisfied that the intruder, whoever he was, had gone, he signed to George, who immediately joined him.
Together they made their way stealthily to the outskirts of the bush, and prepared to make their final dash for the wall, which they now saw before them.
"It seems all right," said George in a whisper. "I can hear nothing."
"Yes," replied the guide slowly. "I think we are yet safe; Allah is with us. Yonder is the wall, and the gate is opposite us. The gate is an old one that has not been used for years. The guards will not think of it, for it has been heavily secured with bolts. But Naoum has had them removed to-night, and, in case of accidents, his men are stationed in hiding near by. Come!"
They were just about to rush across the intervening space to the wall, when, without the slightest warning, a small, dark figure sprang up at their very feet and barred the way. So sudden was the apparition that George almost fancied the figure had sprung out of the ground.
Quickly drawing back from the long, gleaming knife that flashed before their eyes, George and his guide stood for a second irresolute. The stranger at once spoke.
"Ha! you thought to escape, did you? You forgot that Abdu was still in Cairo. No, you don't, my friend; we will have you bowstrung at daylight."
Helmar made a dart at the little man. He saw in this one untoward incident the loss of all Naoum had planned for; he saw his liberty already slipping away from him, and the thoughts of Arden's villainous intent spurred him on. There was yet time; no alarm had been given. As he sprang forward, Abdu, with the agility of an ape, sprang out of reach, and, setting his fingers in his mouth, gave one prolonged whistle. Immediately it was answered in every direction.
All hope now seemed to be gone, and the two men prepared to fight to the end; his guide passed Helmar a long knife, and they backed up to a tree. Help, however, was nearer than they had expected.
Hardly had they taken up their position, when, with the sound of hurrying footsteps, came a long-drawn, hissing sound through the air. Before they had time to even conjecture its cause, they saw a knife strike Abdu in the breast, and he fell to the ground with a moan, the weapon still quivering in his body with the force of its flight.
Without waiting for anything further, the guide beckoned to his companion, and the two dashed for the wall. Directly they reached the open, they saw hurrying figures on all sides, who, the moment the fugitives appeared, set up a howl and gave chase.
George and his companion had a fair start of them, and, provided there was no delay at the postern, a chance of escape.
Running with all possible speed, they reached the gate in a few seconds—it was closed. Again their position seemed hopeless; but again, to their joy, Naoum's power was evidenced, and at their approach the gate was thrown open as if by magic.
Once outside, they found Belbeis waiting with three horses, ready saddled. They mounted in an instant, and, as the pursuing guards dashed through the gate, all three started away at a gallop.
CHAPTER XXVII
ACROSS THE DESERT
Casting one glance behind him George saw the crowd of soldiers pushing and jostling their way through the little gate. Those who had reached the outside opened fire on the fugitives, but their aim was hurried, and the darkness quickly hid the departing men from view. As a consequence their shots became erratic, whistling over the heads of George and his companions.
Belbeis drew alongside Helmar, his horse pulling at his bit and endeavouring to make a race of it.
"We have to skirt the south of the town," said he, when his horse had settled down. "It will be no use attempting to cut our way directly to the east; that course will take us through the heart of the city."
"Yes," replied George, as he leant well over his horse's neck to ease the animal, "that, of course, would entail much danger, but it would also save time."
"It would save time, I know," replied Belbeis, "but we could never get through, the town is alive with troops, and the alarm will have spread. No, my orders are to take this route, but even so, our danger will be great."
"How do you mean?" asked George, failing to understand the drift of his companion's thoughts.
"Our flight will cause us to circle the city," replied the Arab, "and, before we can strike the desert road to the east, we shall have to reach the eastern limits of the town. The officer Arden, who is cunning, and will understand that we are making for the British camp, will probably send out a party of horsemen in that direction to wait for us."
"Ah, I see, while we are making a circle they will take a short cut across and intercept us," answered George; "but I presume you have thought this out before?" he hazarded.
"Yes," replied Belbeis.
Then he turned to the man who had guided George from the palace, and held a low conversation with him. Presently he turned again to Helmar.
"With Allah's help we shall avoid them by striking the road at another point," he said, "but the chance is small, and we shall probably have to fight sooner or later; if they do not catch us on the outskirts of the city they will very likely do so where we cross the road to Suez, and before we reach the desert trail for Tel-el-Kebir."
The prospect was not alluring; Helmar was unarmed except for the knife his guide had given him, and this would be of little use to him. Belbeis seemed in no way disturbed, and kept his horse going steadily on, while his ever alert eye glanced from side to side of the route, watching for the slightest sign of anything that could obstruct their flight.
They were rapidly nearing the south-western limits of the city, and the streets were becoming more open. The fresh night air stimulated their spirited Arab horses, and they raced along the silent roads at a speed that would have made it difficult for Arden's men to overtake. As they reached the open, Belbeis turned his horse to the south-east, and, making a big detour, keeping the city in sight to their left, the three travelled rapidly over the open plain. They reached the railway in safety, and crossed it without an encounter of any sort; then, drawing rein, they breathed their horses, watching for daylight before beginning the great effort of their escape.
"Our horses must be fresh and ready for a hard gallop," said Belbeis, in answer to a question from Helmar. "If we are to be pursued, of which there is not the least doubt, we shall sight the enemy very soon. When that comes to pass we must try a race, and, if we fail to get away," he shrugged his shoulders, "well—then we will fight."
"Yes, but how?" asked George. "We have no arms, at least I have none."
"You have not yet examined your saddle," replied Belbeis, with a smile. "Naoum thinks of everything. You are equipped with pistols and a carbine, and your magazine is filled with cartridges."
The darkness had hidden these things from George's notice, but now, reaching his hand down beside his horse's flanks, he realized the truth of his companion's words, and a feeling of relief passed over him, as he thought that, at least, he could now give a good account of himself.
The slowness of their pace seemed to Helmar unnecessary. He turned to Belbeis, and for a moment watched his quick sharp face as it turned in this direction and that, nothing in sight escaping his eagle glance. A smile spread over George's face as he noticed the keen reliant countenance beside him.
"Upon my word, Belbeis, I really believe that you are hoping for a brush with the enemy, notwithstanding the size of our party."
Belbeis did not reply for a moment, then rousing himself as if from deep thought, said——
"I have many scores to wipe out with the officer Arden, and should be glad of a chance to do so;" then with a backward jerk of the head, in the direction of the guide riding behind, "You do not know that we have a man with us who is the greatest renowned fighter in the Egyptian army. He also hates this Arden."
"Good," replied George. "As far as I can see we are all of the same mind on that point, but, to satisfy our own personal grievances, we must not forget that we have a most important mission to fulfil. Cairo must be saved, no matter how much we want to pay off old scores."
Day was now beginning to break, and the first streaks of dawn were already shooting across the eastern horizon; in a few minutes the light would have spread, with the rapidity only to be found in tropical climates, and the morning twilight passed. The desert air was delicious as it swept with the light morning breeze into the faces of the fugitives, and though for only a period of short duration, was more than refreshing to both horse and rider. Soon the scorching sun would rise, and the stifling, burning, parching heat would take the place of this balmy atmosphere; then the endurance of the travellers would be taxed, and all their fortitude be required to reach their destination.
The city was still in sight, but rapidly sinking from view. George reckoned that they had already covered eight or nine miles.
"How far off is the road to Suez, where you expect to meet Arden's men?" asked our hero.
"Eight miles further on. We could strike the road sooner, but it is not good," Belbeis answered; "there is time enough."
"And how far is it to Tel-el-Kebir?"
"Fifty miles as the bird flies," he answered. "The way we go, about sixty. Ah!"
The exclamation was caused by the sight of a small cloud of dust to their left front. It was far in the distance, but in the broadening daylight plainly visible to the keen-eyed Belbeis. Pointing in the direction he drew Helmar's attention.
"See, there go the officer Arden's men. They are riding hard to overtake those who are behind them," he said, smiling grimly. "Their horses will soon tire. Good!"
George looked in the direction his companion indicated. No horsemen were visible to him, but the cloud of dust rolling along over the sandy plain showed the course that the party were taking.
"We will now change our course," said Belbeis, turning his horse's head towards the south as he spoke. "Those scoundrels will ride on to the first water and wait for us; we must get round them."
All three set off at a good pace, and soon the cloud of dust was lost to view. On they rode with all possible speed; their horses beginning to feel the effects of the now risen sun, settled down to a steady canter. The heat was already intense, and the barren, uninviting plain that lay before them seemed interminable. When they had made sufficient southing, Belbeis again headed for the Suez road, and after another two hours' ride this was reached without accident.
"They have gone further than I expected," said Belbeis, as he looked in vain for the pursuers. "See, the hoof-marks on the road are quite plain, they did not stop at the water."
He shook his head as he spoke, and his face assumed an anxious expression.
"And what of it?" said George. "As I understand we do not go by this road, there should be less to fear."
"No, no, not less," said Belbeis, "but more. The party are scouring this road only; there are evidently others in search of us; some have doubtless gone to the north."
The guide approached.
"It is plain as the daylight," he said. "Word has gone forward, and the soldiers between Cairo and Tel-el-Kebir will be warned, and our course will be watched by patrols the whole way. Allah, but we shall be kept busy," and the man grinned at the thought of fighting ahead of him.
"Yes, there are soldiers in El Menair, Abu Zabel, El Khankah, and many other villages along the fresh-water canal," said Belbeis. "They will all be warned, and the country will be scoured. We must not fear, but ride hard, keeping as far in the desert as possible."
They now pushed on again, and in a short time the disused railroad between Cairo and Suez was reached. Here the horses were watered and rested, whilst the riders partook of breakfast. After an hour's rest they again resumed their journey. The caravan road to Tel-el-Mahuta was reached, and for the present adopted as the best course to pursue.
This journey was very different from the one George had made to Damanhour; there it was through more or less cultivated land, and was done in the cool of the day, whilst now they were travelling rapidly, with the sun pouring its intense rays down upon them as they traversed the shelterless desert. It taxed the endurance of all three men to the utmost, the Arabs, who were used to the scorching sun, feeling it severely; so what must it have meant to Helmar, who had recently recovered from an illness? Still, with a determination to see his work through, he never for one minute allowed his spirits to flag. He had a duty to perform, and, if for nothing else, his gratitude to Naoum would not allow him to succumb to the trials of his undertaking. Belbeis and the guide rode on in stolid silence, evidently with no intention of allowing the effort of speech to increase their thirst. George, following their example, let his thoughts dwell upon the cool forests in the land of his birth, and longed ardently for a few minutes' shelter beneath one of the great elm trees that grew in the grounds of his father's house. The time passed on, and mile after mile was covered, until shortly after noon a watering-place was at length reached. Another short halt was called, and a rest taken before the last stage of the journey was begun. So far, only distant clouds of dust warned the travellers of the nearness of their enemies, and with the subtle intuition of Belbeis, they were skilfully avoided. Another twenty-five miles only remained before Tel-el-Kebir would be reached, and already Helmar was promising himself success.
Suddenly Belbeis roused himself from a light doze he had fallen into, and, glancing quickly round the horizon, called on his companions to saddle up their horses again.
"I see a party approaching from the north; we must hasten! I fear we shall be observed," he said, as he sprang into the saddle.
George and the guide quickly followed his example, and the party moved off with all possible haste. They had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile when George drew Belbeis's attention to another cloud of dust.
"See," he said, "there are some more ahead of us! It looks as if we are hemmed in on all sides. We cannot retreat—our horses will not last."
Belbeis gazed at the cloud George had drawn attention to, and then anxiously glanced at the one to the north.
"They are both coming towards us, but it looks as if some conveyance were with the one you have pointed out."
"Ah," said George, "and if so, what do you expect?"
"That I cannot say," replied Belbeis. "It might be one of Arabi's patrols, or it might be—no, it cannot be British, their patrols would never venture so far into the enemy's country, unless, of course, it was in a strong force, and that does not seem to me the case."
"Anyway," said George in determined tones, "we have come so far, there must be no turning back—we'll make a fight for it. They are not going to take me back to Cairo alive."
"Set your mind at rest on that point," said Belbeis quietly; "they will not attempt to do so. The moment we are seen they will swoop down on us and attempt to cut us up. Well, let them come!"
"So say I," answered Helmar, his eyes glittering with excitement as he spoke.
The rolls of dust were coming nearer; the party to the north was the one that occupied the fugitives' attention most. Already the figures of at least twenty horsemen were plainly discernible; the other cloud was still in the far distance.
"They must have already seen us," said Belbeis, with his eyes fixed on the northern party, "and cannot be more than two miles off. Come along, let us give them a race!"
As he spoke all three men urged their horses on, but the approaching party were travelling more rapidly than they, and every minute seemed to be coming nearer. At last Helmar said—
"Look here, Belbeis, it seems to me we are uselessly distressing our horses; let us slow down and wait until they come up. We may as well fight now as later on."
"Good," answered Belbeis, his eyes sparkling with pleasure; "my duty is to convey you safely to Tel-el-Kebir, and I thought there might just be a chance of avoiding the risk of a fight; but it is not to my liking, I would sooner fight."
"We shall get all we want of it, I expect," said Helmar, drawing his carbine from its bucket and examining the breech.
Since they had drawn rein the party of approaching horsemen neared rapidly; as they galloped over the plain George counted at least twenty mounted men, headed by one who rode by himself. The companions determined to save their ammunition until the enemy was at short range, which did not take long, the distance decreasing every instant.
"Our horses will stand fire," said Belbeis, "they are well trained, and we can shoot from their backs."
"Good," said George, "that will be in our favour. Now wait till I give the word to fire, and then take a steady aim at their horses."
The three men sat keenly watching the advancing soldiers. They were plainly visible, and the uniform told our hero that they were Arabi's men. In five minutes' time Helmar turned with an exclamation to his companions.
"A white man leads them!" he cried, in excited tones. "Who can it be?"
Belbeis narrowly scrutinized the leader, then turning to George smiled grimly into his face.
"You will have the opportunity you wish for. Old scores can be wiped off before we are taken. The leader is your old enemy, the officer Arden himself!"
The foremost of the party were within eight hundred yards of the waiting trio; Helmar gave the word "Ready," and taking a careful aim, his companions waited for the word to fire. It came short and sharp, and the three carbines rang out. When the smoke had cleared away three horses were plunging, and a moment after, fell headlong to the ground. This for a moment checked the advance of the rebels, and Helmar saw several of them dismount.
Out rang the enemy's rifles, and a heavy volley of lead flew round the heads of the fugitives. Helmar gave the word, and again the carbines rang out, simultaneously several of the rebels' horses ran off riderless. The fight now waxed furious; the deadly aim of Helmar and his two friends was telling rapidly, whilst the rebels were shooting wildly.
This seemed to alarm Arden, and he immediately adopted different tactics. Instead of wasting his shot, he decided to advance, and galloped forward as hard as his horse could carry him, his men following his example. Helmar's party fired as rapidly as they could work the levers of their magazines; each one of that devoted little band realized that they must soon be overwhelmed, but still determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible.
Their rapid fire into the advancing enemy told its tale, and many saddles were emptied, but they were now nearly at close quarters. Helmar and his men clubbed their rifles and waited.
George's horse was struck and fell; its master extricated himself, and stood up ready to face the enemy to the last. On they came, tearing down on the little party like hawks on their prey. The suspense while they covered the intervening space, although only for a few seconds, was terrible and seemed as if it would never end.
Suddenly a rattle of musketry from behind drew Helmar's attention. Turning his head quickly he saw a large party of men approaching at a gallop, in skirmishing order. A Maxim gun was in position and belching forth a hail of lead.
There were others who had seen the same thing, and felt the deadly effects of the relentless Maxim. Arden pulled his horse up nearly on to its haunches. George, whose attention was again turned to the rebels, saw his old enemy reel in his saddle; then, throwing up his arms, he shouted to his men——
"Back, back for your lives!" and fell headlong to the ground.
CHAPTER XXVIII
MEETING OF FRIENDS AND CAPTURE OF ARDEN
The murderous fire continued, and the rebels, urged by their leader's words, turned like a flock of sheep worried by the herder's dog and fled precipitately; not one of that cowardly band waited to help their fallen chief, not one of them had any thought other than to save his own skin. Those who still remained in possession of their horses, scattered and galloped away in every direction, while those on foot threw down their arms and ran for their lives, pursued by the skirmishers who came galloping across the sandy plains.
George and his companions took in the situation at a glance, the uniform of the new-comers told its tale—the British soldiers had come to their rescue.
Helmar had no time to realize what this timely succour meant to him, and, for the present, he watched with interest the panic-stricken retreating rabble. He saw the sturdy horses of the honest English soldiers overtake one by one the flying Arabs, until at last the whole of that murderous band was in the hands of his friends. While he was still watching this interesting sight, three men rode up from behind, and a voice, sharp and clear, in tones of command addressed him.
"Who are you, and what does all this mean?"
George turned at the words and glanced at the man who had uttered them. He was tall and slight, with a thin aristocratic face, and, by the stars on his shoulders, Helmar knew him to be the officer in command. Without replying to the question, he said with heartfelt fervour——
"Thank God you came in time, you have accomplished more than you know of, sir!"
"Yes, yes, but answer my questions," the officer said impatiently.
"I am an escaped prisoner from Cairo, and bear dispatches of the utmost importance; on their instant delivery to the Commander of the British forces depends the lives of thousands."
"Eh, what?" ejaculated the officer. "How do you mean?"
Helmar then explained who and what he was, how he had escaped, and the facts of the mission on which he was now embarked. The officer listened with interest to all he had to say, the varying expression of his face betraying his feelings of surprise and disgust, horror and admiration as his story proceeded. At its conclusion he got off his horse and shook Helmar heartily by the hand.
"You are a brave man, and if the plot to destroy Cairo is as you say, and you bear the proofs with you, should we be in time to save it, you will have earned the nation's thanks, and any reward that Her Gracious Majesty can confer on you. But come, there is no time to be lost, we must return at once to camp."
As he finished speaking he turned away to give some orders; during the conversation the men not otherwise engaged had clustered round, standing at a respectful distance from their chief, eyeing George and his companions with curiosity. The moment the officer had moved off, one of the men rode up to George, and, glancing for one moment at the weary face before him, sprang from his horse and grasped him by the arm.
"What, George!" he cried. "I thought you were dead!" and the eager young face was wreathed in smiles, his eyes looking suspiciously watery as he gazed into the worn face of his friend.
"Charlie! Well, I never!" cried George in delight, as he grasped the fact it was his friend Osterberg in front of him. "Why, what are you doing here? This is nothing to do with banks!"
"And to think I should be with the party who has saved you," Osterberg rattled on, ignoring his friend's questions. "But, George, you are looking ill and not like your old self. What's the matter?"
Then Helmar went again through his story, and Osterberg, when it was finished, in his turn told him that the peaceful life at the bank had not suited him, so he had thrown it up and got employment with the British army, attached to the Engineers.
Before the two young men had finished exchanging confidences, the officer, having arranged the disposition of the prisoners, again approached. Seeing Osterberg in close conversation with his friend, he looked from one to the other, as if for explanation. Osterberg, understanding the look, promptly spoke up.
"Helmar is a very old friend of mine, sir. We came to this country together—in fact, we left the University for that purpose. I remember him being captured near Kafr Dowar; he was on patrol with an officer of the Engineers."
"Ah," replied the officer, "that is all the better. But we must start at once. You," he went on, turning to George, "had better take one of your men's horses and ride with me in advance of the rest of the party."
He was about to turn to his horse when, seeing Osterberg's speaking glance, he smiled and continued—
"Yes, you can accompany us, but hurry up!"
The young man, delighted at this extreme mark of favour, jumped on his horse, and Helmar, in obedience to the officer's instructions, took Belbeis's horse.
"It is good," said the Arab, "the master's work is now done. Be careful of him," he went on, handing over his sleek Arab charger. "He is Naoum's favourite steed, and will never fail you. I regret that he is wounded."
Belbeis and the guide now remained with the main body, whilst Helmar and Osterberg joined the officer, who, accompanied by an escort of four men, started at once for head-quarters.
"By the way," said the officer, after they had ridden a little way in silence, "the man who was leading the rebels is a prisoner—he is a white man. Do you know anything of him?"
George glanced at his young friend riding beside him.
"Do I know him, sir?" he said, repeating his superior's question. "There is a story of villainous treachery surrounding that man that will sound to you like fiction; if it will not weary you, as we have yet some miles to travel, I will tell it."
The officer expressed his willingness to listen, and George recounted to him all that had occurred from the time the three companions left Germany. The latter part of the story was new to Osterberg, and he exclaimed in horror and indignation at the villainous way Arden had persecuted his friend. When our hero came to the flogging, the officer's face became hard and stern.
"And you still bear the marks of that inhuman treatment?" he asked, when George had finished.
"That I do, sir," he replied, with a look of chagrin on his face. "My back is scored and lined like a ploughed field. I shall carry the marks to my grave, but, even so, I regret not one moment of the agony I have gone through so long as Cairo and the many hundreds of true men and women in it are saved. Had I not gone through this, had I not been a prisoner, I do not know who Naoum could have sent with the news. It is an ill wind that blows no one any good. Let us hope I am in time."
George's calm words, his lack of resentment at the treatment he had received from Mark Arden, touched a deep chord in the officer's nature, but he wondered at George's apparent unconcern.
"I should think considerably more of vengeance than you appear to do," he said, with an ominous glitter in his eyes; "prisoners, when left to the authorities, do not always get what they deserve."
"That may be, sir," replied George, "but time will show. Arden has lost his chance, the chance he wanted, of getting out of the country with his ill-gotten gains, therefore his rascality has brought him but little fortune. To my mind that is sufficient punishment, and, after all, revenge is but a small thing—he will be punished in some way."
"'m!" said the officer doubtfully. "I should want something more definite."
By sundown the British camp was in view, and, to Helmar at least, never was any sight more welcome. The heat of the sun, the excitement of the encounter with the rebels, the strain of the sixty miles' ride, all combined to weary him both mentally and bodily. The thought that after months of degrading captivity he was at last free was scarcely sufficient to raise his flagging spirits. As he saw the miles of white lines of tents stretching before him, a feeling of contentment gradually crept over his tired body, but there was none of the exhilaration he had anticipated; all he longed for was to fling himself from his horse and rest his weary bones. The watchful eye of young Osterberg had noted all this, and he anxiously looked over towards the camp as if expecting to see his friend give in before he reached it.
George, however, had no such intention; the sufferings he had gone through had hardened him to trials such as this, and though enthusiasm had gone from him to a great extent, he was nevertheless determined to see his duty through to the bitter end.
At last the outposts were reached, the countersign given, and they passed down the endless lines towards the Commander's quarters. After what seemed an interminable time, their destination was reached and the little party dismounted. Several aides-de-camp were about, and to one of these the officer explained his business; George, too weary to stand, seated himself on the ground and waited while the aide delivered the officer's message. In a few moments the man returned and said a few words to the officer and then returned to the hut. The officer approached Helmar.
"Brace yourself up," he said, in kindly tones, as he noted the weary expression of the young man's face. "Your work will soon be over, and you can take all the rest you need. You must come with me and see the Commander-in-Chief."
George sprang to his feet and followed his guide. He passed through a number of officers, who eyed his dishevelled appearance with curiosity, but they all made way for him, and at last he stood in the presence of the great man. Helmar waited in respectful silence until the Chief looked up. He found himself in the presence of a thin, wiry-looking man, with iron-grey hair, and a keen, sharp face, the aquiline features of which were lined from exposure and care. He spoke abruptly, and in the usual tone of an English military man.
"You have matters of importance to communicate?"
Helmar fumbled in his pocket, and produced the bundle of papers Naoum had given him.
"Yes, sir; these papers are the proof of what I have to say," he said, laying them on the desk in front of the Commander-in-Chief.
The officer unfastened them and glanced rapidly over the contents, then looked up.
"Well, what is your story?" he said, fixing a penetrating gaze on the young man's weary face.
George told his story as briefly as possible. During its narration the Commander kept his eyes on the papers, glancing up every now and then as something more astounding than the rest attracted his attention. When the story was finished he carefully folded up the documents and put them in a drawer.
"Thank you, my man," he said, in a dispassionate voice. "You have done well. The news you have brought through is of the utmost importance. Action will be taken at once. Your name is George Helmar, is it not?—good," he went on, writing it down on a tablet, then turning to the officer at his side, said, "Let this man be provided with quarters, and every comfort given him. This rebel officer, Captain, I believe you said was a prisoner. I shall want to see him in the morning. Er—that will do."
George knew this was his dismissal; but he hesitated as he turned to go, and the Commander was quick to notice it.
"Well, what is it?" he asked, without raising his eyes from his work in front of him. "Have you anything else to say?"
"Excuse me, sir, I do not wish to trouble you too much; but if any one is sent to Cairo," said Helmar, diffidently, "I should like to be allowed to go too—I know the best route to take."
The officer looked up, and scanned the drawn face before him.
"You look tired, my man, and I do not wonder at it. You must rest; but your orders will be given you later on. You can go now."
George was compelled to leave, and he did so reluctantly. He felt it was hard if a relieving force should be sent, and he not allowed to accompany it after all he had done. Still, he knew this man's word was absolute, and he must abide by his decision whatever it might be. With keen disappointment he left the room, accompanied by the officer who had been directed to see about quarters for him.
Once outside he was handed over to a subordinate, who carried him off to his tent. The man was a sergeant, and a good sort. After traversing the lines for a few minutes they stopped outside one of the many white tents.
"It's very late to see about quarters for you," said the man, "but this is my tent, and if you would like to share it with me to-night, I will see that you are made comfortable to-morrow. You'll find they are not so bad," he went on, throwing back the fastenings as he spoke. "There are plenty of blankets and some good grub."
"I shall be delighted," replied George quickly; "only let me sleep, the bare ground will do as well as anything else."
"Ah, well, you'll find my quarters better than that," said the sergeant, with a laugh, leading the way in.
Inside, George found as the man had said, and he quickly had a comfortable bed made on the ground.
"There you are, fling yourself on that while I go and get you some supper. Your horse has been put on our lines, and the men have attended to him, so you needn't bother. Your saddle shall be brought here."
The sergeant went out, and soon returned with the promised supper, and George fell to with an appetite in no way impaired by his fatigue. While he was in the middle of it, chatting away to his companion, an orderly strode up, and, putting his head in the doorway, said——
"Does the man named Helmar stop here, Sergeant Smith?"
"Yes, here I am," answered George, before the sergeant could reply.
"Good!" said the orderly. "You will hold yourself in readiness to leave at daybreak on special duty."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Helmar. "I'm going to Cairo after all!"
"You, Sergeant," continued the man, "will have other work to do. The general assembly will sound at ten-thirty. Arabi's going to get fits to-night!" he added, as he went off, laughing.
CHAPTER XXIX
TO DEATH OR GLORY
History chronicles the events that followed on the night Helmar arrived at the British camp outside Tel-el-Kebir. It is therefore unnecessary to give here the details of how on that night, the thirteenth of September, the camp was struck at Kassassin Lock, with a few men only left to hold the place; how the whole force, consisting of about 14,000 men, marched out in the dead of night towards Arabi's entrenchments; how they bivouacked within a short distance of them until nearly morning; and how at length the order for attack was passed along the line, and the rebels, taken by surprise, utterly routed by this daring manoeuvre. There is no need to dilate on the gallantry displayed by the Highland Brigade and the Royal Irish regiment on that occasion, all this is known with the rest of the history of the British nation's many great victories, and will remain until the day of doom graven on the pages of the military achievements of the English race.
But the events that resulted after the news of Arabi's intention to burn the beautiful city of Cairo to the ground reached the Commander-in-Chief, concern us most, for in their development Helmar was largely concerned.
After the orderly had warned him to hold himself in readiness, George, with the help of his new-found friend Sergeant Smith, set about collecting his accoutrements. His saddle was brought to the tent, and his horse placed where he could easily find it; this done, he lay down to snatch all the rest he could.
So weary and tired was he, that he failed to hear his companion leave the tent, when the troops moved to the attack. There was no noise in their leaving, and even had there been, it is doubtful if it would have roused him, so worn out was he with his day's work.
Towards daybreak he was awakened by one of the men left in camp, and he rose refreshed and ready for the journey that lay before him. A few minutes sufficed to devour a few mouthfuls of food, and then he saddled up his horse; by the time this was over he saw a large body of mounted men already assembling further down the lines. Mounting his sleek Arab steed he rode hastily over to them, and in a few minutes the whole body moved off.
As far as he could see there were about nine hundred men of various regiments, all mounted on horses in the pink of condition, the men themselves looking fit to undertake any work, no matter how arduous.
Before the party had proceeded far, an officer rode up to George.
"You are the man who came from Cairo yesterday, are you not?" he said, as he drew rein alongside.
"Yes, sir," George replied.
"Very well, your two men are on ahead acting as guides with the advanced guard; you will ride on and join them, and act under the orders of the officer in command of that party. Hurry up!"
Helmar at once started off, and in a few minutes caught them up. He found Belbeis and his guide of the previous day riding on the lead with the officer. Reporting himself, he was told to ride with them, and the journey began in deadly earnest.
"We are bound for Cairo," the officer explained, "and must reach there in the quickest possible time."
"Yes, sir; and which route is to be taken?" asked George.
"Via a little village called Belbeis, where we shall rest for the night."
"Belbeis," exclaimed Helmar, looking over at his faithful guide.
"Yes," replied the Arab, "I know, it is my native place, the village from which I take my name. It is on the fresh-water canal. We must take the desert route, and so avoid Arabi's entrenchments."
Turning to the officer, George interpreted what Belbeis had said, adding that he thought the suggestion the guide had made was the best plan possible.
"Very well, but there must be no mistake, for our work will admit of no delay. The man can be trusted, I hope."
"Without doubt," said George, at once. "He is absolutely faithful and trustworthy."
Considering the large number of men, the journey was most rapid, and, under the guidance of the trusty Belbeis, his native village was reached at sundown in safety. The journey was made in the heat of the day, and, notwithstanding the fortitude of both horses and men, was very trying. Even the guides and Helmar, after their terrible journey of the day before, were thankful when the little village was sighted, and the order for the bivouac was given. Many of the men lay down where they off-saddled, tired and worn out, and, after a frugal meal, slept where they were, without covering, and with only their saddles for a pillow.
George, after the wants of his horse were attended to, glanced round the scattered soldiers, and noting the worn-out condition, registered a mental wager that many of them would never be able to last till Cairo was reached. At present only the shortest part of the journey had been traversed, how would they feel at the end of the next forty miles?
With many misgivings he found his two friends, and communicated his fears to them.
"Seems to me," he said, seating himself beside Belbeis, "many of those fellows will never reach Cairo."
Belbeis was thoughtfully smoking, squatting on his haunches in true Oriental fashion, his water-bottle lying beside him, and the remains of his supper scattered about on the ground; the other guide sat facing him.
"The children of the West," replied Belbeis, watching the puffs of smoke as he emitted them from his mouth, "are not used to the Egyptian sun and the sand of the desert. It is hard for them, but they are good men, their hearts are big. The horses are what I most fear."
"Yes," put in the guide, "the Arab courser is as the wind in the desert, he never tires, and nothing can travel like him."
"You are right," said George, gazing admiringly at his own mount, calmly feeding a little way off. "The desert has no terrors for the fleet-footed Arab, but I doubt if he would do as well in my country."
There was a short pause, and then Belbeis again spoke.
"What are we going to do when we reach Cairo?" he asked. "The way is long and we are but few."
"Going to take the city, I expect," replied George.
"But we are not a thousand fighting men," exclaimed the cautious Arab, "and there are at least twenty thousand rebels in the city. Poof, the English are mad, we shall die."
George burst into a laugh, and Belbeis looked disgusted.
"You do not understand our people, there is some trick on hand, they know their business; besides, if it came to a fight with such a number, I would not wager on the rebels."
"Allah is great," replied Belbeis solemnly, "His ways are mysterious, but I cannot understand."
"No," said George, smiling, "neither will Arabi, he does not know the sons of the West. They will dare anything."
"Allah is powerful," replied Belbeis, "and we are but His children."
Again a silence fell upon the little party, a silence only broken by the sound of the resting horses' movements and the buzzing of insects now abroad in the cooling air. On all sides, as far as the eye could reach in the darkening night, soldiers lay about in various attitudes of rest. Here and there, though infrequently, small groups sat smoking and talking, but mostly the weary men slept. One or two sentries, doing short reliefs of watch, hovered about, leaning for support on their carbines.
The scene was an impressive one, and, to Belbeis, who understood not the daring of a British soldier, it seemed a pity that so many men should be doomed on such a futile effort as Helmar had said. George sat scanning the scene with very different feelings. He knew the subtle strategy of the soldiers, and was convinced that the task in hand must be more than possible, or this small force would never have been sent on such an errand.
At last George and the guides curled themselves up and slept, the problem of the work in hand no longer interesting them. At last, after a period that seemed all too short to the weary men, came the first streak of dawn, and the guard walked among them, rousing each as he went for the beginning of the last stage of the journey. In a few minutes all was bustle and activity. The neigh of horses, the clatter of accoutrements, the voices of the men, resounded on all sides. With the trained discipline of soldiers, everything was in readiness before daylight, and, as the dawn began to broaden, the journey was resumed. On they rode, mile after mile, hour after hour; daylight gave place to sunrise, and with it the heat of the day once more brought streaming perspiration out on the horses and riders. None but those accustomed to the terrible heat of the tropics could understand the terrors of that journey to the Western-bred men. Every minute, every second of the day was a constant agony to man and beast, but still with indomitable pluck they kept on. At mid-day a halt was made and food partaken of; here many of the men had to fall out, their horses too exhausted to go further. The weary faces of the men told their tale, and the officer anxiously scanned the ranks in fear lest his troop would not be able to reach their destination.
It was an anxious time for the man in command, but, with set purpose and grim determination, no thought of retreat entered his mind. So long as horse could travel, so long must the journey be kept up.
George's horse seemed indefatigable, and still, at every halt, champed impatiently at its bit. Some of its spirit seemed to be communicated to its rider, for though absolutely worn out, he anxiously sought to hurry on.
This part of the route was less barren and dreary; their course lay fairly near the canal, and signs of agriculture appeared at intervals.
Again, with diminished ranks, the order of march was resumed. Horses floundered in the sand, too weary to lift their feet, others with drooping heads marched along in a dogged determined sort of way that betokened their condition. It was terrible.
The officer riding beside Helmar was well mounted, and his horse as yet showed no signs of giving in. Observing the freshness of Helmar's mount, he said——
"Your horse stands it well."
"Yes, he is one of the purest Arabs. He travelled over this journey the day before yesterday, and he is fresher now than any of them," replied George with pride.
"Marvellous! marvellous!" replied the officer. "What we shall be like when we reach Cairo I shudder to think; this journey is awful."
"The ranks are thinning," said Helmar, "our advanced guard can scarcely keep their seats. Heaven only knows what will happen if we are attacked!"
"Let us trust that nothing of the sort occurs," answered the officer. "Even as it is, I do not see that we can do anything to-night."
"What! is the attack on the city to be carried out to-night?" exclaimed George, incredulously.
"Those are the orders," replied his superior, simply.
George relapsed into silence, wondering even more at the ways of the Commander.
The sun was sinking, and they were now nearing their destination. Already in the distant haze they could see some of the spires of the city they were to take. Each man of that devoted little band realized that the critical moment was nearing, and each man braced himself for the effort that would be expected of him. The nightmare of it all was not yet passed, and the last stage, they knew, would be worse than its predecessors.
Six miles from the city a halt was made. The sun had already set, and the party that, at the start, had been a smart, compact, and fit body of troops, now trailed up to the halting-place in a scattered line, horses hardly able to put one foot before another, the men reeling and fainting with exhaustion in the saddle. It was a despairing sight to the officers in charge, with work to carry out that now seemed hopeless.
As each man rode up, the last flicker of discipline asserted itself, and they closed up their ranks in one long line, whilst the officer rode down inspecting them. After that the horses were off-saddled.
After a rest of two hours had been given, the men were called up and their Chief addressed them.
"It is," he said, "absolutely necessary to ride into Cairo to-night! Many men and horses are not fit to move, but the orders must be obeyed. I shall leave it to you yourselves to decide who can travel on. The officers will inspect their troops and assist in that decision."
After this, weary as they were, volunteers were not wanting, to a man they were all anxious; but on inspection it was found that one hundred and fifty only out of that nine hundred were fit to proceed further, and so it was decided that the gallant Major Watson should march in at the head of this infinitesimal force and demand the surrender of twenty thousand armed rebels.
The task seemed utter madness, even to Helmar, whose adventurous spirit had made him one of the first to volunteer. Directly darkness closed in, the advance was made; one hundred and fifty tired but desperate men started on that fateful mission. George never expected to come out of it alive, and many and varied were his thoughts as the little band made its way towards the town. The one thing that he regretted most was, that he had not been able to see Osterberg before he left Tel-el-Kebir. He had been too tired to seek him out after his interview with the Commander-in-Chief in that labyrinth of tents, and by the time he left in the morning, doubtless the boy was with the fighting line at the trenches. Well, it couldn't be helped now; if George survived this night's work he would see him again some day, and if not——
Here his reflections were broken in upon by the word being passed down the line to urge their horses into a trot, but with strict injunctions to keep together. Helmar was still on the lead, accompanied by Belbeis and the officer.
"Four more miles and then we are in for it," said the latter, as his horse quickened his pace.
"Yes, sir," replied Helmar, "four more miles and then—Death or Glory."
Nothing further was said, and in grim silence the march was continued. Major Watson now headed his men, and the outskirts of the town were reached. Without hesitation the gallant Major rode straight for the citadel. The clatter of mounted men in the streets alarmed the natives, but the darkness kept the numbers of the invaders covered, and it was believed the British were upon them. Hundreds flung down their arms and grovelled in the dust, as this victorious little army galloped on. At length the city itself was entered. Each man of the one hundred and fifty sat on his horse with his arms ready for use, prepared to fight to the last. But no opposition was offered them.
Natives kept behind their doors in fear and trembling, thinking that the rest of the army was following, ready to adopt their own barbarous methods and massacre every one they came across. Panic had seized the city, and every one waited the catastrophe that each felt was about to fall upon them.
On rode Major Watson towards the eminence on which stood the citadel; as they came to it the poor worn beasts could scarcely carry themselves up the hill. By superhuman efforts at last the gates were reached. The crucial point had come.
CHAPTER XXX
CAIRO SAVED AND HELMAR'S REWARD
As they arrived outside the citadel of Mehemet Ali, Helmar looked up at the frowning wall of the great fortress. Here he was at the place where he had received his inhuman treatment; this was the place where he had been found by his friends and rescued when in dire extremity. Under what different circumstances was he now returning to it. No longer to be a place for the perpetration of atrocities, they had come to demand its surrender, and, with that surrender, the capitulation of the town. And how was this done? By the daring of a devoted little band of a hundred and fifty exhausted, though determined, men!
Twenty thousand fanatics in the city and ten thousand troops in the citadel—was there any limit to the daring recklessness of the British soldier? After this exhibition, George thought not, and waited to see what next this brave little band was capable of.
During the short pause while the garrison was being summoned, the men, with stern, set faces, gripped their weapons ready for any emergency. As Helmar glanced at the faces of those nearest him, the expressions he saw written upon their features put all doubt as to their intentions at rest. He had said truly on his journey to Cairo that they were marching to "Death or Glory!"
At last the gates were flung open and Major Watson's summons answered. The troops marched in, and to their utter surprise found the commandant willing and ready to yield up his sword. After that, the whole of the garrison laid down their arms like a flock of sheep. Without a blow, without any resistance whatsoever, one hundred and fifty thirsty, hungry, exhausted men had captured Cairo, with its enormous garrison of nearly thirty thousand rebels! The feat was one unprecedented in history, and though it reflected little credit on the sagacity of the leaders of the campaign, it at least was a tribute to the commander's knowledge of the peculiarities of the Eastern character, and the reckless devotion to duty of the men under his command.
The work of receiving the submission of the troops seemed as if it would never end, and Helmar, wearied beyond words with the work, felt that he was at the limit of bodily endurance. At last it was over, and he was at liberty to take his rest.
He sought out his two friends, who had been occupied in a similar manner, and the three men set out in search of quarters. There was no fear from attack by the populace. Terror had been struck into their hearts, and they hugged their dwellings, fearful that to show their faces abroad would bring down summary chastisement upon them.
With this knowledge of security, they prepared to take their hard-earned rest. After a little trouble, quarters were found.
"Well, Belbeis," exclaimed Helmar, with a triumphant smile, "what do you think of it now? We are not going to die, as you prophesied!"
Belbeis seated himself preparatory to enjoying a comfortable smoke, smiling benignly on his two companions the while.
"Allah is great, and Mahomet is His prophet. The English are a brave race."
"You've about struck it there," answered George, yawning and stretching himself out on a heap of rugs. "To use an expression of your own—it is Kismet. I wonder what will happen next?"
"Sleep," replied the Oriental, laconically.
"Yes, and not before we need it. I suppose you will stick to the English now?"
"If the work of their servant is good in their eyes, I am content. Naoum is my master, and he knows what is best for Belbeis. I like the children of the West, they do not beat the faithful."
"I never came across a man with so much sense as you have, Belbeis," said George. "You always seem to understand intuitively."
"My life is for peace," replied the Arab. "Where I get that best, there is my heart, I am no soldier!"
"But a jolly good imitation of one, then," exclaimed George, laughing. "Why, man, you have the heart of a lion?"
"That I cannot help," he replied, with a look of pleasure in his eyes at his companion's words. "It is no doing of mine, circumstances make it so."
"Well, it's a good thing for us there are not many of your countrymen as brave," said George, sleepily. "Well," yawning again, "here goes for a little 'shut-eye.'"
In a few minutes Belbeis and the guide followed George's example, and the room in which they lay resounded with their stertorous breathing. At daybreak they awoke refreshed and once more ready for the day's work. After they had foraged for and devoured breakfast, the little force were paraded prior to manning the forts. An hour later the remainder of the nine hundred rode into the city and joined them.
Cairo was quite quiet and orderly. Patrols were sent out to prevent any riotousness on the part of the fanatics, and in this manner they awaited the arrival of the rest of the army.
During the afternoon, the Commander-in-Chief, with a large force, marched into the city from Zag-a-zig. He was met with acclamation by the entire populace, and received from the officer in command of the party to which our hero belonged the surrender of Arabi and Toulba Pashas; thus the war of rebellion, which had threatened to overwhelm the land of the Pharaohs and exterminate the domination of the Khedive's rule, was at an end.
Helmar saw now that his career with the British army would soon be at an end. He had done his duty, and, by his timely arrival at Tel-el-Kebir, had prevented the razing to the ground of the ancient capital. What now remained to him? As he looked these facts in the face, he realized that after about six months of hardships, misfortunes, and privations he was no better off than when he started; whatever he had done seemed now entirely forgotten.
Consulting Belbeis upon the matter that evening, he received the good fellow's opinion and advice.
"You do not know what to do?" replied the Arab, with a look of unusual surprise on his impassive face. "How can that be? You have not yet seen the master; he loves you, and you have done that which he wished for most, you have conveyed his papers to the General. Go to him, he will tell you that which you should do."
"That is all very well, Belbeis," said George, simply, "but I did it for my own benefit as well, and, besides, I owe him more than I can repay already."
Belbeis only smiled in answer, and, after a moment's pause, went on——
"We shall see, there is yet time for thought of the future. Allah will provide!"
After that, he left the citadel, and George was left to the companionship of his own thoughts. They were not very pleasant, and he put them from him and went out in search of his friend, Charlie Osterberg. He had not the least notion of where to find him. He knew the Engineers had arrived, but he was not aware of where they were quartered. However, a soldier whom he met told him they were outside the western gate of the city.
With this information he made his way through the slums until he came to the Governmental portion of the town. This he passed through, and at length reached the west gate. On making inquiries there, he was directed to the camp he sought, and with some difficulty discovered that Osterberg was with the troops. At last he found him in a tent with two or three other civilians attached to the force in a similar capacity to himself.
Charlie greeted his old friend and companion with open arms.
"Thank goodness, you are all right, George," he exclaimed, the moment our hero appeared in the doorway. "I was wondering when I should find you. I have only just been relieved from duty, or I should have been in search of you now."
"It's a good thing that it happened so," replied George, "or we should have both been searching in different directions, and so missed each other. Now tell me of all that has happened to you, we only had such a short time to talk when I saw you on the way to Tel-el-Kebir, that there must be still much to talk about."
Osterberg's career had been so uneventful after they parted at Alexandria that his story was soon disposed of, and then George consulted him on matters concerning the future.
"What do you intend doing, Charlie," he said, "now that the war is practically over?"
"Why, go back to the bank, of course—what did you expect? You see, I made that arrangement with my employers, and they gladly consented to it. Of course, business was at a standstill while the war was on, and they were glad to dispose of their clerks; but now it is over they'll want us back again. But you—how do you intend going on? Shall you still remain with the Government authorities as interpreter?"
"I can't say, I'm sure. Perhaps they won't want me," replied George, in tones that betrayed his reluctance to leave the service. "However, I expect they will soon enlighten us on that point."
"Why, George, you are a bigger stupid than I took you for! Do you think they are going to discharge the man who made that magnificent ride to save Cairo?"
"And himself!" put in George, in disgust. "There, for goodness sake, don't harp on that! Belbeis has just reminded me of it—it was nothing!"
"That may be so," replied Charlie, "but anyway all the troops seem to have got hold of the story, and do nothing but talk about it—they can't say too much for you. It isn't likely the Government will forget you."
"Oh, by the way," exclaimed George, to change the subject, "what is to be done with Arden? I suppose you haven't heard?"
"Yes, I have. He's to be tried along with other leaders of the revolt. The probability is that he'll get a heavy sentence and no doubt be banished from the country."
"Poor devil!" exclaimed George. "His ill-gotten wealth won't have done him much good. I doubt if he'll ever be able to touch a penny of it."
"'M! I'm not so sure. Mark is a cunning fellow, and probably has sent it all out of the country to some safe place where he can get at it again. For my part, I am not in the least sorry for him. Hanging would be a too merciful sentence for such a villain."
"Well, I have no doubt that all he deserves will fall to his lot. I bear him no malice; he is in trouble enough now; let us hope it will be a lesson to him."
"No fear," exclaimed Charlie, with a hard look on his boyish face. "Nothing will ever be a lesson to him; villainy was born in him, and if ever he escapes, mark my word, the authorities will hear of him again, or I am much mistaken."
His tone of conviction impressed his companion, and he looked sharply at him.
"Why, what do you think he will do—raise another rebellion?" he asked, incredulously.
"Stranger things have happened. We shall see. I am going to walk back to the city with you," he went on, as George rose to go. "A little fresh air will do me good."
The two friends linked arms and strolled back to Cairo. The night was deliciously cool, and each had much to talk about, going over and over again through the many incidents that had occurred since their arrival in Egypt. At last the citadel was reached, and George, to his great surprise, found Belbeis anxiously awaiting his return.
"My master, Naoum, bade me deliver this note," said he, directly our hero came up. "He wishes to see you to-night. He had not anticipated that you would return so soon."
"Good!" exclaimed George, scanning the contents of the missive. "Now you shall see my benefactor, Charlie. Come, Belbeis, conduct us to him, that is, if I may bring my friend."
"Your words are law to my master's servant," replied Belbeis; "to refuse you would be to cross the wishes of Naoum, and that cannot be."
Without waiting for a reply, Belbeis led the companions down to the best part of the city. Stopping at one of the smaller Oriental palaces, he disappeared, asking George to await his return. In a few moments he came back, and led the way into the great entrance hall, where they found Naoum waiting to receive them.
He greeted our hero with affection, and looked in surprise at Charlie. Helmar was quick to interpret the glance, and hastened to set his mind at rest.
"This is my greatest German friend, Naoum," he said, "and I brought him with me that he might meet the man who has done so much for a stranger in a strange land; his name is Charlie Osterberg."
Naoum acknowledged the introduction cordially, and begged them to rest.
"I was surprised when Belbeis told me that you had returned to Cairo again so quickly. Had I known it before, I should have sought you earlier," he said, in his well-known kindly tones. "There are many things I would say to you, but time presses, and no doubt you would return to rest."
The two young men shook their heads, and declared their willingness to hear all he had to say.
"I have been thinking of your future," he said, looking keenly at George. "We have so long been associated that it seems as if Allah had woven our lives together. I am unwilling that we should now part. The war is over, therefore the Government will have little for you to do."
George waited. Evidently Naoum had some proposition to make for his good. Somehow he did not like the thought of accepting more from this man who had done so much for him already, and yet he felt he had no right to refuse anything he might offer.
"As you know," resumed Naoum, as if afraid to come too bluntly to the point, "I am wealthy beyond the knowledge of your people. I do not rest, my money begets money, and I trade and traffic always—it is my pleasure. I have caravans all over the Soudan and Upper Egypt, bringing in the wealth of produce of the scattered tribes in that country, therefore I employ many to do my work."
He paused again, and a look of anxiety came into his eyes. He was fearful that Helmar might refuse what he was about to suggest.
"I would not ask you to be my servant, but I would give you caravans that you may go and trade for yourself. There is wealth beyond your dreams in the enterprise. I have no children of my own, my mother is old, and she is all I have in the world to care for. If you will accept what I offer you, you shall, when Allah brings my work to a close, succeed me in my business. Say, shall it be so?"
George did not answer at once, and Naoum waited patiently for him to speak. The generosity of this man knew no bounds; his offer was princely, and George hardly knew what to say. He hated to refuse this thing, for Naoum's heart was evidently set upon it, and yet he could not accept. The peaceful life of a trader, or at least the peaceful life he imagined it to be, had no attraction for him, despite the wealth accruing to it, and yet how could he make this good man understand? Naoum was still awaiting his reply, and George felt that he must not delay in giving his answer; perhaps if he could gain time he might see his way to doing as his protector wished, although, at present, he did not see how. Stepping over to the good man, he wrung him by the hand.
"Naoum, you are all too good to me—you overwhelm me with your generosity. At present I cannot give you a definite answer, you must give me time to consider. You know, at heart I am a soldier, and I would that my life ran in that groove; therefore I must think carefully before I decide. You will not think me ungrateful, I'm sure, for you know me well. To-morrow evening I will see you again, and give you my answer."
"Be it so, my son," answered Naoum, indulgently. "It is well to think. May Allah guide your thoughts into the right course! Go, and sleep well!"
The two young men left Naoum's house and hurried back to the citadel; here Osterberg said good-night, and went back to his own quarters.
That night Helmar did not sleep much, over and over again he thought of Naoum's offer, but with each attempt he failed to come to any decision. Wealth was not his main object; that, of course, had its attraction, but he wished to live the life of his choice; he had started as a soldier, and he wished to remain one, so that wealth sank into insignificance in his thoughts. He could not decide. For the first time in his life he failed to make up his mind.
With daylight he awoke from the broken slumber that had, at last, overtaken him. Already Belbeis was awake, and preparing breakfast. George sprang up to assist him. During the meal Helmar was unusually silent. The doubts of over-night were still upon him, and made him irritable. Belbeis noticed these signs, and refrained wisely from breaking in on his thoughts.
After breakfast Helmar went for a stroll round the fortress; the place was alive with troops, all the work of the day was carried out at this early hour, so that, when the heat of the day came on, the soldiers could rest. He was nearing the officers' quarters when a sergeant came out and walked quickly towards him.
"Ah," he said, as he came up, "I was just coming to look for you. You are wanted at once at the office—you had better come with me now."
George followed his guide without demur, and was conducted to the orderly room. After a short wait, he was shown in. A colonel was seated at the table, dictating a letter to his clerk. When our hero appeared he ceased, and, turning to a pile of papers, selected one from among the rest.
"I have just received this from the Commander-in-Chief. It is the result of the excellent way in which you assisted in saving this city from destruction. Listen!"
He then read out the following order——
"In consequence of the gallant conduct of Interpreter Helmar in conveying the information of the rebels' intention to destroy the city of Cairo by fire, his Highness the Khedive of Egypt has been pleased to appoint him to a responsible office in the Intelligence Department. The appointment will carry with it the honorary rank and pay of Lieutenant in the Egyptian army. Interpreter Helmar's acceptance of the post must be forwarded to the Commander-in-Chief without delay."
"I congratulate you, Lieutenant Helmar, on the result of your distinguished services," said the Colonel, breaking through his official iciness. "I hope what has gone before may be but the precursor of many such services in the future," and he shook our astonished hero by the hand.
"But, sir——"
"Tut, tut, man! I suppose I can reply to that letter in the affirmative? Such opportunities and promotion come but rarely. Good luck to you!"
Helmar signified his intention of accepting his good fortune at once, and with his head in a whirl of excitement, he left the orderly room in search of Naoum.
Hurrying down town, he found his benefactor, and explained what had happened.
"You see, Naoum, all my aspirations are for a soldier's life, and last night, when you made me that generous offer, I felt it impossible to tell you so; events that have happened since have made it impossible for me to longer conceal from you that a civil life would be distasteful to me. I beg that you will not be hurt at my refusal, and will understand my motives."
Naoum smiled at the young man's earnest manner, but the smile did not for a moment conceal from Helmar his deep disappointment that the decision was unfavourable to his offer.
"I am glad that you are pleased, my son, but it would be idle to disguise my disappointment. I had hoped that you would have been a son to me upon whom I might lavish all my wealth, but it is not to be. You must make your own way. You are young and independent, your brave heart is unquestionable, do as it dictates. I am your friend always. Allah is good and great—may He watch over you!"
After his conversation with Naoum, George had an interview with Mariam, and then sought out Charlie. He found him in his tent, getting ready to leave for Alexandria.
"I have just received my discharge," he said, directly George entered, "and am now off back to the bank. What are you going to do?"
Helmar seated himself on a flour barrel, and Charlie propped himself on an ammunition box.
"Do?" our hero exclaimed, bursting to recount his good fortune; "why, stay here, of course! I am now Lieutenant Helmar of the Egyptian army, with a post in the Intelligence Department! Well," he added, laughing at Charlie's astonished face, "why don't you salute me?"
And so, after months of hardships and failures, George Helmar had at last found what he sought. He reasonably considered that he had made a record in his search for fortune. An assured position in the walk of life he preferred, a liberal salary, and the prospect of heaps of adventure in the future. What more could he desire? Was there anything? Yes, there was. He wanted news of all in Germany. During the excitement of the last few months he had thought little of his friends and relatives in the Fatherland. Now that peace reigned, and he began to settle down in his new occupation, he longed to hear what had happened to them. As nobody, excepting friend Osterberg and foe Arden, knew of his whereabouts or what he was doing, he determined to write to his father and describe the adventurous time he had had, and tell him of the reward the end had brought him.
After a few weeks' interval he received what he wanted—a long letter in return. The item of news which pleased him most was that telling of the safe recovery of Landauer, his opponent in the duel.
"Thank God!" he exclaimed fervently. "My prayer was answered."
THE END
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