The Light That Failed Part 41

'And where? The Ca.n.a.l is full of the English ships. Sometimes they fire as they used to do when the war was here--ten years ago. Beyond Cairo there is fighting, but how canst thou go there without a correspondent's pa.s.sport? And in the desert there is always fighting, but that is impossible also,' said she.

'I must go to Suakin.' He knew, thanks to Alf's readings, that Torpenhow was at work with the column that was protecting the construction of the Suakin-Berber line. P. and O. steamers do not touch at that port, and, besides, Madame Binat knew everybody whose help or advice was worth anything. They were not respectable folk, but they could cause things to be accomplished, which is much more important when there is work toward.

'But at Suakin they are always fighting. That desert breeds men always--and always more men. And they are so bold! Why to Suakin?'

'My friend is there.

'Thy friend! Chtt! Thy friend is death, then.'

Madame Binat dropped a fat arm on the table-top, filled d.i.c.k's gla.s.s anew, and looked at him closely under the stars. There was no need that he should bow his head in a.s.sent and say--'No. He is a man, but--if it should arrive... blamest thou?'

'I blame?' she laughed shrilly. 'Who am I that I should blame any one--except those who try to cheat me over their consommations. But it is very terrible.'

'I must go to Suakin. Think for me. A great deal has changed within the year, and the men I knew are not here. The Egyptian lighthouse steamer goes down the Ca.n.a.l to Suakin--and the post-boats--But even then----'

'Do not think any longer. I know, and it is for me to think. Thou shalt go--thou shalt go and see thy friend. Be wise. Sit here until the house is a little quiet--I must attend to my guests--and afterwards go to bed.

Thou shalt go, in truth, thou shalt go.'

'To-morrow?'

'As soon as may be.' She was talking as though he were a child.

He sat at the table listening to the voices in the harbour and the streets, and wondering how soon the end would come, till Madame Binat carried him off to bed and ordered him to sleep. The house shouted and sang and danced and revelled, Madame Binat moving through it with one eye on the liquor payments and the girls and the other on d.i.c.k's interests. To this latter end she smiled upon scowling and furtive Turkish officers of fellaheen regiments, and more than kind to camel agents of no nationality whatever.

In the early morning, being then appropriately dressed in a flaming red silk ball-dress, with a front of tarnished gold embroidery and a necklace of plate-gla.s.s diamonds, she made chocolate and carried it in to d.i.c.k.

'It is only I, and I am of discreet age, eh? Drink and eat the roll too.

Thus in France mothers bring their sons, when those behave wisely, the morning chocolate.' She sat down on the side of the bed whispering:--'It is all arranged. Thou wilt go by the lighthouse boat. That is a bribe of ten pounds English. The captain is never paid by the Government. The boat comes to Suakin in four days. There will go with thee George, a Greek muleteer. Another bribe of ten pounds. I will pay; they must not know of thy money. George will go with thee as far as he goes with his mules. Then he comes back to me, for his well-beloved is here, and if I do not receive a telegram from Suakin saying that thou art well, the girl answers for George.'

'Thank you.' He reached out sleepily for the cup. 'You are much too kind, Madame.'

'If there were anything that I might do I would say, stay here and be wise; but I do not think that would be best for thee.' She looked at her liquor-stained dress with a sad smile. 'Nay, thou shalt go, in truth, thou shalt go. It is best so. My boy, it is best so.'

She stooped and kissed d.i.c.k between the eyes. 'That is for good-morning,' she said, going away. 'When thou art dressed we will speak to George and make everything ready. But first we must open the little trunk. Give me the keys.'

'The amount of kissing lately has been simply scandalous. I shall expect Torp to kiss me next. He is more likely to swear at me for getting in his way, though. Well, it won't last long.--Ohe, Madame, help me to my toilette of the guillotine! There will be no chance of dressing properly out yonder.'

He was rummaging among his new campaign-kit, and rowelling his hands with the spurs. There are two ways of wearing well-oiled ankle-jacks, spotless blue bands, khaki coat and breeches, and a perfectly pipeclayed helmet. The right way is the way of the untired man, master of himself, setting out upon an expedition, well pleased.

'Everything must be very correct,' d.i.c.k explained. 'It will become dirty afterwards, but now it is good to feel well dressed. Is everything as it should be?'

He patted the revolver neatly hidden under the fulness of the blouse on the right hip and fingered his collar.

'I can do no more,' Madame said, between laughing and crying. 'Look at thyself--but I forgot.'

'I am very content.' He stroked the creaseless spirals of his leggings.

'Now let us go and see the captain and George and the lighthouse boat.

Be quick, Madame.'

'But thou canst not be seen by the harbour walking with me in the daylight. Figure to yourself if some English ladies----'

'There are no English ladies; and if there are, I have forgotten them.

Take me there.'

In spite of this burning impatience it was nearly evening ere the lighthouse boat began to move. Madame had said a great deal both to George and the captain touching the arrangements that were to be made for d.i.c.k's benefit. Very few men who had the honour of her acquaintance cared to disregard Madame's advice. That sort of contempt might end in being knifed by a stranger in a gambling h.e.l.l upon surprisingly short provocation.

For six days--two of them were wasted in the crowded Ca.n.a.l--the little steamer worked her way to Suakin, where she was to pick up the superintendent of the lighthouse; and d.i.c.k made it his business to propitiate George, who was distracted with fears for the safety of his light-of-love and half inclined to make d.i.c.k responsible for his own discomfort. When they arrived George took him under his wing, and together they entered the red-hot seaport, enc.u.mbered with the material and wastage of the Suakin-Berger line, from locomotives in disconsolate fragments to mounds of chairs and pot-sleepers.

'If you keep with me,' said George, 'n.o.body will ask for pa.s.sports or what you do. They are all very busy.'

'Yes; but I should like to hear some of the Englishmen talk. They might remember me. I was known here a long time ago--when I was some one indeed.'

'A long time ago is a very long time ago here. The graveyards are full.

Now listen. This new railway runs out so far as Tanai-el-Ha.s.san--that is seven miles. Then there is a camp. They say that beyond Tanai-el-Ha.s.san the English troops go forward, and everything that they require will be brought to them by this line.'

'Ah! Base camp. I see. That's a better business than fighting Fuzzies in the open.'

'For this reason even the mules go up in the iron-train.'

'Iron what?'

'It is all covered with iron, because it is still being shot at.'

'An armoured train. Better and better! Go on, faithful George.'

'And I go up with my mules to-night. Only those who particularly require to go to the camp go out with the train. They begin to shoot not far from the city.'

'The dears--they always used to!' d.i.c.k snuffed the smell of parched dust, heated iron, and flaking paint with delight. Certainly the old life was welcoming him back most generously.

'When I have got my mules together I go up to-night, but you must first send a telegram of Port Said, declaring that I have done you no harm.'

'Madame has you well in hand. Would you stick a knife into me if you had the chance?'

'I have no chance,' said the Greek. 'She is there with that woman.'

'I see. It's a bad thing to be divided between love of woman and the chance of loot. I sympathise with you, George.'

They went to the telegraph-office unquestioned, for all the world was desperately busy and had scarcely time to turn its head, and Suakin was the last place under sky that would be chosen for holiday-ground. On their return the voice of an English subaltern asked d.i.c.k what he was doing. The blue goggles were over his eyes and he walked with his hand on George's elbow as he replied--'Egyptian Government--mules. My orders are to give them over to the A. C. G. at Tanai-el-Ha.s.san. Any occasion to show my papers?'

'Oh, certainly not. I beg your pardon. I'd no right to ask, but not seeing your face before I----'

'I go out in the train to-night, I suppose,' said d.i.c.k, boldly. 'There will be no difficulty in loading up the mules, will there?'

'You can see the horse-platforms from here. You must have them loaded up early.' The young man went away wondering what sort of broken-down waif this might be who talked like a gentleman and consorted with Greek muleteers. d.i.c.k felt unhappy. To outface an English officer is no small thing, but the bluff loses relish when one plays it from the utter dark, and stumbles up and down rough ways, thinking and eternally thinking of what might have been if things had fallen out otherwise, and all had been as it was not.