Shireen and her Friends Part 36

"You see," she said at last, "it takes some time for grief like what I suffered for poor Emily to die away. Oh, mine isn't gone even yet, and somehow I feel older since they took and buried my girl friend. But this is not going to prevent me from concluding my story, and I'm sure I ought to be glad to see you all around me on this lovely afternoon, and to know that we are all alive and well."

"Let me see, where did I leave off in my story about my master and Beebee?"

"Oh, I remember," cried Warlock. "You and your master were about to start on a long journey up the great river to a town called--what was it called though?"

"Bagdad!" cried Shireen. "I have it all now. Yes, and the kind good-natured priest was going with us."

Well, my children, Bagdad, you know, is far away to the north, and high up the winding Tigris. Oh, that river does wind to be sure, in and out, out and in, and sometimes it really flows north when it might be saving time by keeping on towards the sunny south, or the golden east. But I dare say, after all, the river knows best, and is in no great hurry to leave this lovely land.

Not all lovely is it, though, for even at the places where the river winds the most, the banks are low and wide, stretching afar on each side, and bounded by rising hills, with here and there a tuft of palm trees.

But at other places the river goes hurrying on rapidly, as in terror and dread of the very wildness of the scenery, tall beetling cliffs, impa.s.sable jungles and bare-scalped rocks, rising brown above the greenery of storm-rent woods and forests. This is the home of many a strange and beautiful bird, the resort of many a savage beast.

"Grand opening for sport, Shireen," said Cracker.

"Ah, Cracker, you are strong and big and brave, and your teeth are like daggers of ivory, but short indeed would your existence be if you attempted sport in this lovely wilderness. There are beasts herein, Cracker, one touch from the paws of which would end all your joys and troubles as well."

"I'm not going there then, Shireen. Yorkshire or Scotland is good enough for me, and I'd as soon tackle a Bingley badger as a Bagdad tiger, you bet."

On and on went our little vessel, Chammy, up the waters of the broad, deep river.

"How happy I should be to-day," I heard my master remark to the priest, "if it were not for this ever-abiding anxiety."

He put one hand upon his heart as he spoke.

"We must trust to Providence and do our best," replied the priest with a smile. "You are not giving way to despair, are you, my friend?"

"No, my best of friends. But I cannot help feeling within me a strange comminglement of hope and doubt, of joy and fear. Oh, Antonio, if anything happens to that dear child, I shall not want to live one single hour longer. I should--"

"Hush! hush! _mon ami_, I feel certain it will all come right."

My master grasped his hand.

"How much I admire your repose, your calmness, and your perfect trust in Providence."

Most of the officers had now congregated round the bows, one or two only being on the little bridge, for we were within but a few miles of the strange quaint city of Bagdad. But what a lovely picture the river and its banks now made! Here was many a beautiful house and charming villa, in whose gardens or lawns lovely children were playing. There were flowers everywhere, and everywhere were orchards all in bloom, pink, crimson, and snow-white.

The river was very rapid here indeed, so our progress was slow; but except my master, no one on board I believe would have cared to have it any quicker.

He was standing astern, near the wheel, gazing dreamily into the water, when the priest advancing, led him aside. Then he pointed to a strange-looking building on a low hill, surrounded by waving woods. It seemed partly a villa and partly a fort.

"They are there!" said the priest. "Miss Morgan and her maid."

I could see the colour come and go on my dear master's face, and really felt sorry for him at that moment.

"Pray Heaven," he said, "we are not too late, Antonio."

"Better now," said Antonio, "leave all to me. This is a matter of life and death. If I keep calm and cool my head will be clear and I shall succeed. If I lose my presence of mind for one moment, Miss Morgan and her maid may--"

"What?"

"Die."

"Antonio!" said my master, "I leave all to you. I trust you thoroughly."

Our little steamboat was now rapidly getting near to Bagdad, the city of Kaliphs, and all at once we rounded a bank, and there burst upon our gaze a scene which is as impressive as any, my children, I have ever witnessed.

Perhaps our sudden appearance caused as much astonishment to the people of Bagdad as their strange city caused to us. For very quickly, before indeed we had thought of casting anchor, boats began to crowd shyly round us; boats strange in shape, boats laden with strange pa.s.sengers and gaily-dressed Turkish men and women, whose veils scarce concealed their beauty, boats flitting hither and thither on trade or pleasure bent, and high up the stream a wonderful bridge built of boats.

The city itself, along the side of the river, seemed a city of palaces, of domes and minarets, of cupolas and towers. There was beauty and brightness everywhere, and the tall waving palm trees, that shot upwards their green-fringed tops against the blue sky and fleecy clouds, lent to the whole scene additional charm.

But anchor was let go at last, right in front of the charmingly-kept gardens of the British Consul, and master, with Antonio and other officers, went on sh.o.r.e to visit him.

That night the Consul himself came off to our little ship, and master confided to him--for he was a kindly man--the whole story of Beebee, and sought his advice.

This was willingly given.

"It seems strange, however," said Mr Wilson, the consul, "that she should have been sent to Bagdad."

"This was no doubt for safety," said Antonio, "although the visit was said to have been recommended by the Persian doctor for health's sake, and she is as strictly guarded here as she would be in her own country."

"Well," said Mr Wilson, "any a.s.sistance that is in my power to give you, you may depend upon. Meanwhile, I think that your plan of getting Miss Morgan and her maid away by stealth affords the best chance for the safety and perhaps the lives of both."

Two days after this all was arranged, and Antonio, dressed as a travelling merchant of Persia, and accompanied by myself, dropped down stream in a hired boat.

But little did I know then the important part I was to play in the delivery of my poor mistress from the fate that threatened her.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

"REMEMBER, IT IS FOR FREEDOM, AND FOR LIFE ITSELF."

"Oh! Miss Morgan," cried Beebee. "How is this all to end?"

My mistress was sitting on the balcony of the room when she made this remark, and Miss Morgan, her English governess, was by her side.

The window overlooked the orchards, that went sweeping down towards the banks of the swift-flowing Tigris; and on the far horizon, high above a cloudland of trees, rose here and there the painted cupolas and gilded minarets of the great city of Bagdad itself.

"I hardly know yet, my dear child, how it will end. I have prayed, Beebee, prayed long and earnestly, and I have hope, and for some reason or another which I cannot explain, I a.s.sociate the pa.s.sing of that British steamer with our deliverance."

"And I, too, have prayed to the Christian G.o.d; but somehow he gives me not the hope that He seems to give to you. Suppose," she added, "we could escape to Bagdad, and reach your British ship, would she give us shelter?"

"As a last resort I may counsel this, Beebee, mine; but, ah! think of the risk. The chance of discovery is very great, and you know what discovery means."

"Yes," sighed Beebee, "it means, to me at all events, death, and a bed beneath yon dark flowing river. And yet I feel I should like to take the risk, dear teacher. In a few days, at most, we shall be sent back to our own home, for the peace has come. Then, oh, dear Miss Morgan, it will be too late."

"See how lovely the sunset is," she added, with a sigh, "and listen, teacher, to the song of those happy birds. Ah! every creature is happy that is free. I--I--oh, teacher, I am the veriest slave!"