For Fortune and Glory Part 8

"You do?" cried Kavanagh, much interested.

"Yes. The ugly beggar was vain, and liked being photographed, so there were lots of his likenesses extant. I was certain I knew the face from the first, and I soon was able to a.s.sociate it with that of a fellow I pa.s.sed on the Nile just above the Second Cataract. He was going up, and I was coming down, and I did not see very much of him; but I would swear to his ugly face anywhere."

"And you heard where he was going?" asked Strachan.

"Yes, to Berber. And I know natives who know him, so I have a good chance of tracking him; and if he don't produce the will he shall eat stick."

"Let him eat a little stick, as you poetically call it, even if he _does_ produce the will. I think a hundred on his feet, or any suitable portion of his person, might have a good moral influence upon him," said Kavanagh. "Oh, to have the handling of the bamboo!"

"We have got to catch the beggar first," said Harry.

"And are you going after him really?" said Kavanagh.

"Or are you only chaffing? It seems a wild goose chase."

"Yes, I am going," said Harry; "and I think better of our chances than you seem to do. In the first place, I have picked up a smattering of Arabic, and that is a help; and then I have friends who can give me recommendations to the Egyptian authorities in any town which is held for the Khedive on the Upper Nile, and I am pretty confident I can make them help me."

"But suppose this fellow has not got the will, or has destroyed it, or has hidden it somewhere, and won't tell?"

"That would be hard lines for you, Kavanagh, and I hope better things.

But even in that case it would not follow that my journey would be useless to myself. I have got a crazy uncle, a brother of uncle Richard, who is heir-at-law if a will is not forthcoming. He has turned Mohammedan, and lives like an Arab, and I believe has considerable authority amongst them. He was in England the last Christmas we were at Harton, and I saw him in the holidays, and he gave me directions how to find him if ever I wanted, for he took a fancy to me, and wanted me to go and live as he does. With all his eccentricity, he has a strong love for his sister--that is my mother, you know--and if he could be told that his brother was dead, and that he had made a will in his sister's favour which had been stolen, by which means he had become heir to the Irish property, I am convinced he would try to do something to set matters straight. Anyhow, it is worth trying."

"Rather!" said Kavanagh. "And if the country is in insurrection, and barred against Egyptians and European travellers, your relative's pa.s.s may enable you to get at Master Cream--b.u.t.ter--what's his name?"

"Daireh."

"Ah, yes; I knew it had something to do with a dairy--to get at him, after all."

"By Jove, what an enterprising chap you are, Forsyth!" cried Strachan.

"You deserve to succeed, I am sure."

"He does; and I heartily hope he will, for if he does not find the will, I shall have to forego all the comforts of life, at least, all I know of, for I daresay I shall find others. Now periwinkles may be a comfort, but what I shudder at is the idea of dirty linen. Not to have a clean shirt every day! It is quite too awful to think of. I am sure I wish you speedy and complete success, and that you may eat salt with the Arabs, and put some on Daireh's tail. That is how the Nubians catch their prisoners, Strachan."

"And when do you start?" asked Strachan, a great deal too much interested to listen to Kavanagh's nonsense.

"On Wednesday," replied Harry, "that is why I cannot stop to-morrow to benefit by your hospitality. I must go in the morning pretty early."

"I'm off to Berber early in the morning, I'm off to Berber, a little while to stay,"

chanted the incorrigible Kavanagh, getting on to his feet. "Catchee Dairy, or no catchee Dairy, Forsyth has got to see the old town of Farnham, and walk home by road, and get there comfortably for dinner.

So come on. I am sure Forsyth must want to rest his tongue a bit and give his eyes a turn."

They left the park, and went down into the town by the steps beneath the palace; and so through the broad street with the restored houses, the bank and others, the inhabitants of which ought to wear coifs and pinners, knickerbockers and doublets, and where tall black hats should be unknown; then into the main street, past the Workhouse, which has a letter-box soliciting books and newspapers for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the paupers, and so back to camp.

Each of the three recalled that Sunday walk often and often in after years, with a pleasure which those who have formed school friendships, and met those they had "conned" with after several, yet not too many, years' absence, will understand. They talked no more of Forsyth's adventurous journey, or the imminent examination lowering over Strachan and Kavanagh. No, the future was banished from their thoughts, which were full of the past. Their talk, indeed, on the way home, would have been a terrible infliction upon an outsider, had one been of the company.

"I say, do you remember Baum major?"

"Rather."

"Don't you remember when he thought he was sent up for good, and he wasn't, and his face when he found out that old Williams had smelt his jacket of tobacco smoke?"

"I remember!"

And then a roar of laughter, the joke being only known to the three, but needing no further elucidation for them. For every period of every public school has its jokes, which are no jokes to any human being unconnected with that time and place, but to those who are so connected are a subject of life-long enjoyment.

When they got back to camp each felt that one of the happiest days of his life was drawing to a close. At mess that evening the Adjutant announced that the Commander-in-Chief was coming down next morning, and there would be a Field Day on the Fox Hills. They were to be brigaded at half-past five, so the "Fall-in" would be at five.

"We are sure to be back about one," said Strachan to Harry later in the evening. "You can wait till then, and have lunch."

"No, thank you," said Harry; "I have a lot to do before I start, and cannot spare another day. Besides, it would not be fair to my mother.

I should have gone off early in the morning anyhow; not so early, indeed, as you march, but by nine; so it makes no difference in my plans, you see."

"Well, we shall breakfast at four; there is no need for you to disturb yourself then. Get up at your own time, and order what you like, you know."

"Thanks, you may trust me," said Harry. "But I shall see you off."

Those overnight resolutions do not always find fulfilment in the morning. But when the companies were told off and equalised, and only waiting for the Adjutant to call out the markers and form the parade, Harry Forsyth emerged from the spare tent kept for guests, and went to the reverse flank to give his two old chums a final hand-grip. Then the Colonel appeared and mounted his horse, and they had to fall in. And the band struck up, and the battalion trickled away, till the rear company was clear of the ground, and Harry found himself alone.

"Poor old Kavanagh!" he murmured. "Strachan does not matter half so much. If he gets spun he has two more chances; and if he fails to get into the Line, then his friends have money and interest to start him in something else. But Kavanagh can't stop on in the Militia, or pay a tutor another six months, and it is neck or nothing with him. If I find the will it will put him square; but what is he to do till then?"

Ruminating in this way, Harry returned to his tent and lay down again for a couple of hours. Then he tubbed and dressed, and had a comfortable breakfast all by himself; for he was too experienced a traveller by this to let melancholy partings spoil his appet.i.te.

He was in town by eleven, getting what was wanted to complete his modest outfit, and at the Sheen cottage with his mother and sister in time for their early dinner.

They were a thoroughly happy trio, for whatever interested one of them became at once equally interesting to the others, and so Harry could have his talk out about the friends he had just parted from without fear of boring any one.

It was a great sorrow to Mrs Forsyth that her son should be going back to Egypt so soon. She had hoped that the anxiety she had suffered during his former absence was at an end, at least, for some considerable time.

"If his const.i.tution were but settled," she said, "I should not so much mind; but he is not quite nineteen yet."

And Beatrice tried to be cheerful, and make light of it, but she was sorely disappointed also.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A VERY LONG PAPER-CHASE.

It was not without very careful consideration that Harry Forsyth had determined to sacrifice his immediate salary, if not his prospects of success in the commercial line for ever, in order to track Daireh, and obtain the abstracted will.

On learning the whole story on his return to England, he had indeed at once thought that that was the best thing to be done, but had not been hasty in settling to do it.

His first act was to go to Dublin; his next to tell the whole story to Mr Williams, the head of the house which employed him in London, and he somewhat reluctantly fell in with his views, his hesitation arising princ.i.p.ally from Harry's youth.

"You are very young," he said, "but you have proved that you have a head on your shoulders; and if your mother and sister have enough to support them, and you possess funds for the journey, I cannot dissuade you from the attempt. If you fail, come back to us, and we will see if we cannot give you employment again. And even if you succeed you had better not lead an idle life, and need not sever all connection with us. At any rate, I will do what I can by letters of introduction to aid you."

Harry thanked Mr Williams heartily, and that gentleman was better than his word, for, besides the letters, he gave him charge of some goods which had to be sent out to Cairo, by which he not only got a free pa.s.sage, but salary up to the date of his arrival out.