For Fortune and Glory Part 10

The Bey bowed and clapped his hands.

"Send Abdullah here," he said to the attendant who appeared.

Abdullah came in; an old man, with an ink horn and other writing materials, worn in a case stuck into his girdle instead of weapons, who prostrated himself, and was questioned. He remembered the name of Daireh, and knew there was something wrong about him. But he must consult his books and examine certain sbirri, or policemen.

So Harry had to go away, with the promise that he should have fuller information next day. He did not for a moment expect to be satisfied so quickly as that, nor was he; but still he was infinitely more lucky than most people who have to deal with Turkish or Egyptian authorities, for at a third meeting, and with a little more baksheesh to subordinates, he got at the facts; and very disappointing they were.

When the Egyptian army, now under the command of Hicks Pasha, was being gathered to the camp of Um Durma, where it was at present situated, Daireh had been very energetic in trying for contracts to supply the troops with various requisites, and had ingratiated himself with many of the Egyptian officers, so he came and went freely past the sentries at all hours, always having the pa.s.sword. One of the English officers, however, chanced to see him one day in company which aroused his suspicions, and he had him watched, and shortly afterwards a couple of spies were taken, from the papers found on whom, as well as from the confessions they were induced to make--not, I fear, by arguments which would be approved of in more civilised lands--it became evident that Daireh was in communication with the enemy, and had kept him posted as to the number of the troops, their organisation, and their probable movements. Orders were immediately issued for the arrest of the traitor, who, however, had disappeared, having doubtless taken refuge with the Mahdi.

This news was a terrible blow to Harry. He had tracked the man all these thousands of miles, and here, just as he had his hand upon him, he had slipped away again, and was now farther off than ever.

There seemed to be but one chance left--to employ the signet-ring, to apply to the princ.i.p.al dervish of Khartoum, and seek out his uncle Ralph, the Sheikh Burrachee. He was most likely with the Mahdi, or else with Osman Digna out Red Sea way; and, in the former case, he would help him to recover what he wanted from Daireh, who was pretty certainly with the False Prophet. But it was extremely distasteful to him to have recourse to such an expedient. His uncle was a renegade, and if England espoused the cause of the Khedive, which, after the experience of interference with Arabi's revolt, it was very likely that she would do, he would be in arms against his country.

It was certain that he would not desert the man, Mahomet Achmet, whom his cracked brain accepted as a prophet from Heaven, for any patriotic consideration, for he was a wrong-headed Irishman as well as a fanatic, and a man with a grievance to boot, and would glory in drawing his sword against England. And if he joined him and sought his aid, Harry Forsyth might find himself in the awkward fix of acquiescing, if not taking part, in war against his countrymen, or of losing his head. And he had a sort of foolish weakness for his head, which fitted very comfortably on his shoulders, and did not want transferring to any other pedestal.

And then, suppose, after all, the Sheikh Burrachee were serving with Osman Digna on the other side of the Soudan! He would be farther off his object than ever after he joined him.

He revolved all this in his mind as he walked moodily through the bazaar, where the products of all countries were displayed, not excepting the merchandise of Manchester and Birmingham, when he heard voices in loud altercation, and, looking up, he saw a group of men whose gestures showed them to be strangely excited about something.

An Arab, who stalked along, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and scowling on the bystanders, seemed to be the object of this commotion.

"Stop him!" "Seize him!" "The spy!" "The rebel!" were the cries: but the Arab pa.s.sed on like a lion through a crowd of wolves.

Then an Egyptian soldier, bolder than the rest, seized him by the sword- arm, and in a second half a dozen were upon him. But in the next he had shaken himself free, and his bright blade flashed in the sunlight, and down went the first aggressor on the causeway, which was flooded with a crimson stream.

Pistols were pulled out, carbines unslung, as the motley crowd rushed to the spot. Pop, pop, pop; at least half a dozen shots were fired. One bullet whizzed unpleasantly close to Harry's nose, another smashed in amongst the bottles of an apothecary's stall, from which an a.s.sortment of odours arose, attar of rose and asafoetida being the most prominent.

What billets all the other bullets found I know not, but one severed the Arab's spine, and avenged the Egyptian.

By the time Harry got up to this latter, he saw that a man in European clothing was by his side, kneeling on one knee, and trying to check the flow of blood which pumped out of a wound in his neck.

"Is there a human being here who is not a jabbering idiot?" he cried in English. "Keep back, you fools, and let the man have a chance to breathe."

"Can I be of any use?" asked Harry, pushing to him.

"That's right, come on," said the surgeon, as he evidently was. "Lay hold of this forceps, and hold tight--that's it--while I cut down a bit and tie it lower down. No good, I fear; there are too many vessels severed. By George, how sharp those fellows keep their tools!"

He was right; it _was_ no good. In five minutes the Egyptian soldier died under his hands. Upon which he rose up and walked on to where the Arab lay, to see if anything could be done for him; but he had hardly moved since the shot struck him.

"A bad business," said the doctor to Harry, who had followed him. "We have not got many soldiers in our force brave enough to lay hold of an Arab, and can ill afford to lose one of them in a stupid affair like this."

"Are they such cowards?" asked Harry. "But I say," he added, as he looked in the other's face, "is not your name Howard?"

"Yes, it is."

"Don't you remember Forsyth at Harton--your f.a.g?"

"Remember little Forsyth! Of course I do. But you don't mean to say-- by George! Now I look at you I see a sort of a likeness. But I should never have known you."

"I expect not. When you left I was thirteen, and I have altered a good bit since then. But you were eighteen or thereabouts, and have not changed so much."

"That's it; though I have had plenty to change me, too. But how do you come to be here, and in that toggery?"

"Well, it is rather a long story," said Harry, "and I would sooner tell it sitting down somewhere out of the sun. What are you doing here--in private practice?"

"That is a long story, too," cried Howard, laughing; "and I would also sooner tell it sitting out of the sun. Come to Yussuff's, where we can wash this mess from our hands, and get anything we want."

Yussuff's was not far. It was a convenient establishment, where you could get a meal, or a bottle of wine, or even beer, if you would pay for it, or simply take a chibouque or narghile, and a cup of coffee or a sherbet.

"Try the lemonade; they make it first-rate here," said Howard; and Harry took his advice, and swallowed a big gla.s.sful of nectar, which no iced champagne he had ever drunk could beat. And then they washed their hands and rested on a comfortable divan while they interchanged confidences.

Howard had been a bit wild, perhaps, before he pa.s.sed the College of Surgeons, and did not see any opening afterwards; he had no money or professional interest. So he had gone into the Turkish service, and, thinking himself ill-treated, had pa.s.sed into that of the Khedive, and had lately volunteered to accompany Hicks Pasha's expedition.

"I have made a regular hash of it, as usual," he said; "for my great wish is to study gun-shot wounds, and for that purpose I should have taken service with the Mahdi; for almost all our fellows are hurt with spears or swords, while all their wounded are shot. But now tell me what extraordinary chance has brought you out here."

Harry told his story, leaving out, however, all that part about his uncle, the Tipperary Sheikh, who was now in all probability in the ranks of the enemy Hicks Pasha's force was about to attack.

When he had done, Howard said--

"I remember that fellow Daireh; he would have had a short shrift if we had caught him! It was unlucky, though, that he was found out before you came; he could not have done us much more harm, and the finding him here would have done you a great deal of good. By George! You are a nasty fellow to have for an enemy, Forsyth! What a sticker you are--a regular sleuth-hound. Fancy following your enemy to the very end of the world! Such a little innocent chap as I remember you, too. I don't think I bullied you much, did I? By George, I should have thought twice about offending you if I had known what a Red Indian I had to deal with!"

"I did think you rather a beast sometimes," said Harry, laughing; "and I took it out of the next generation, when I had a f.a.g in my turn. But there is no revenge or vice in my present journey; it is simply to get my money. I had been a good bit of the way already on other people's business, and that put me up to coming on my own. Do you remember Kavanagh?"

"Very slightly; he was a little fellow--Brown's f.a.g."

"He is not a little fellow now!" said Harry, laughing. "I should say he would weigh down the pair of us."

"And you can talk the lingo!" said Howard, admiringly. "It is very few words that I have been able to pick up. But what are you going to do now?"

"That is just what I was wondering when that row took place, and sent all my ideas and reflections spinning. I must sleep on it."

"Look here," said Howard, presently. "The chances are that that fellow Daireh has gone to the Mahdi's head-quarters, which are at El Obeid.

Now we are going to El Obeid; therefore come with us there."

"A capital idea!" cried Harry, hope dawning once more in his breast.

"There will be a chance of catching the fellow, after all, that way.

But how can it be managed? Will Hicks Pasha be bothered with me?"

"He does not want any useless mouths, it is true," said Howard; "but I expect that he will be able to make some use of you. An Englishman who has shown sufficient energy to make his way out to Khartoum, and who can understand and speak Arabic, and that at an age when his sisters and their she friends would call him 'a nice boy,' and patronisingly teach him the newest waltz steps, is sure to be available in some capacity, especially for a leader with the resources of our chief. At any rate there is no harm in trying, and if you come with me I will introduce you. You need not tell him your story, you know, unless he asks you for it, because it is rather long, and he is very busy. Later, over a bivouac fire, it may interest and amuse him. Just say who you are, what you can do, and offer your services, and I do not doubt you will find yourself a man in authority over a certain number of Egyptians."

"What sort of soldiers do these Egyptians make? They did not do much good against us under Arabi."

"No; and we have a lot who ran away at Tel-el-Kebir here. They are no good. The Egyptian rule has been a curse to the Soudan, and the Egyptian troops are the greatest curs that ever tempted a brave but unarmed people to throw off the yoke. But suppose we go to the camp."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

KAVANAGH'S CHOICE.

Captain Strachan was an old naval officer, who lived in a rather retired spot on the borders of Somersetshire and Devonshire. His house had a verandah round it, and one warm afternoon he was sitting at a table under this, spectacles on nose, tying artificial flies. A young son of twelve sat by him rapt, holding feathers and silk, which latter he had previously drawn through a kid glove containing cobbler's wax, and wondering whether he should ever attain to the paternal skill in this manufacture.