Shireen and her Friends Part 32

"No, my friend. Is it worth beholding?"

"Well, yes, if you are not too nervous. But a sight so ghastly and awful I have never yet clapped eyes upon."

"I'll go," said master. "Mac, just wait here for me a few minutes."

Jock saluted, and seating himself on a block of masonry, look me off my perch and began to play with me.

While so engaged, a footstep fell upon our ears, and we both looked up.

Before us stood a tall and handsome dark-bearded man, in a semi-clerical garb, which, however, was sadly soiled with mud and blood, and very much torn in several places. The man was in the prime of life, but the paleness of his face contrasted strangely with the depth of colour in his beard. No wonder he looked wan and weary, for his left arm was in a sling, and there was a wound across one temple, which seemed to have been received but recently.

"Man!" said Jock, rising from his seat, "you've got a sad cloot (knock) there. I hope you felled the chiel that dang you."

"He isn't alive to-day," said the stranger, smiling sadly.

"I have just come from Akwaz," he continued. "Mine has been a remarkable escape. I am safe now, however, and would seek the a.s.sistance of your General Outram. I am told he is both brave and gallant."

"Well, sir," said Jock, "I can answer for it, he is baith. Just let him in front of the foe, and a braver man never swung a claymore, so early in the morning; but place him alongside laddies and bairnies, and he is the kindest, mildest lad that ever lived."

"I am glad to hear so good a character of your great General, but an English lady is in great distress at Bagdad. I thought it possible he might help me. With one hundred men, if they could but be spared, I would take in hand to secure her release."

"p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y," cried Jock, in some alarm, for I had been wistfully gazing at the new arrival since he began to speak, and now sprang lightly from the soldier's shoulder on to his, and began to sing, and rub my head against his ear.

"Can it be possible?" cried the stranger, taking me down and looking at my mouth. "Ruby and all," he added, as if speaking to himself.

You see, Warlock, that I had known the stranger at a glance. He was the good, kind priest who had nursed my master back to health, when wounded by the bandits in the wild forest.

"Soldier," he said excitedly, "this is Shireen."

"She's n.o.body else," said Jock. "But wha in a' the warl' are ye, that seems so weel acquaint wi' the dear auld cat?"

But now the stranger had seen my master and the surgeon returning, and hurried off to meet them, I still retaining my place in the priest's arms.

The recognition had been mutual and simultaneous.

"This is indeed a happy meeting," both exclaimed.

Then hand met hand in a hearty shake.

"But you are wounded, my friend. Come, let our good surgeon attend to you at once."

The priest was led to the doctor's tent, and master would not let him speak until he had quaffed some refreshment, and had the ugly wound in the forehead attended to.

"And now I must speak to you at once, and alone," said master's friend.

"I am rejoiced to meet you, and I hope it will all end well. But Beebee and Miss Morgan--"

"Yes, yes. Speak! Tell me the worst."

"They have both been removed, under an escort, from her father's palace, and are prisoners near Bagdad."

"In a prison! Good heavens!"

"No, friend, no. Not in a prison. Their home is a beautiful villa on the outskirts of Bagdad. Their gaolers are women and eunuchs."

"And the father?"

"It is the father who has done this, and at the conclusion of the war, or it may be before it, Beebee will be removed to the Shah's palace, and Miss Morgan will be made a slave, if no worse fate befall her. I have escaped and come to tell the tale. It seems to me providential that I have found you."

"It would appear so; but I am indeed in great distress of mind. We cannot, I know, spare a man, for an expedition is just on the eve of starting up the river Karoon to Akwaz. The enemy are falling back in force on that town, and the General wishes to be beforehand with him."

The priest-surgeon put his hand on my master's shoulder.

"Do not be afraid," he said, pointing with a finger skywards. "There is One who rules all things for good. Trust Him. Be patient. All will yet be well."

"Pray Heaven your words may soon come true!"

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"HAVE HEART AND HOPE, MY FRIEND."

Far away up the river Karoon, my children, lies the city of Akwaz, and it was for this place our three little gunboats, the _Comet_, the _Planet_, and the _a.s.syria_, now started.

But for the anxiety that I could not help noticing was depicted on my dear master's face, this expedition would have been altogether as nice as a picnic.

We--my master, the priest, Jock and I--went in the _Comet_, with one hundred Highlanders.

Our whole force did not amount to much over three hundred men, and yet with this little mite of an army we were going to attack a town, the size and strength of which we were not even sure of.

I, however, felt no fear, because I heard master say that whatever men dare, they can do.

Well, in due time we reached the town, and we landed, attacked and captured it.

Persians are not cowards. They can fight well, and this army of about nine thousand men would, doubtless, soon have destroyed our bold little force, had it not been so arranged as to look like three invading armies.

Then, of course, we had the support of the gunboats, and, as master said, it was but right to give the Persian general his due. He must have thought that our troops were but the advance-guard of General Outram's whole force. And so he and his army ran away.

"Did much fur fly, Shireen?" asked Cracker.

Not much, said Shireen. You see, Cracker, we didn't get so near to the enemy as you did to the butcher's dog that day you saved life, else brave Jock McNab and master would have made plenty of fur fly.

From the river, the town of Akwaz and the broad sheet of water, with its beautiful wooded islands, and the wild and rugged mountains far behind, formed a scene which was lovely in the extreme.

On the evening after the day on which our gallant force had routed the enemy, and captured the town with all their stores, the priest and my master sat long on deck, talking of the past. I sit on the priest's knee. There was a calm or repose about this man that to me was very delightful, and as he smoothed me while he talked to master, I purred and sang with my eyes half closed.

I was not asleep, however, and I could hear every word they said.

I noticed, too, that this good priest spoke ne'er a word about himself, or his own affairs. He seemed to interest himself in master and in him only. This I thought was very unselfish and considerate of him. It was kind of him, too, to keep master and me company at all, for he was still very weak from his wounds, and a less brave-hearted man would have been confined to his hammock.