News of Douglas Pasha
"Bagdad! See it in the distance; watch the rising sun glint on the roofs and minarets!"
It was in a cautious whisper that Geoff drew the attention of his chum to a point some long distance in advance of the spot over which the rickety chaise in which von Hildemaller was riding bore them. Very craftily he had thrust his head out beyond the side of the vehicle, and though all was still dusk about them, though the night had not altogether faded, yet, happening to be on a considerable elevation, and looking down into the distant basin of the Tigris, he had caught just that faint gleam of the city for which they were making. Balancing unevenly, uncomfortably, and with many a suppressed groan, on the axle and spring of the other side, Phil shot his head out like a jack-in-the-box after Geoff had spoken, and stared ahead hard until he too saw flashes from the roofs of Bagdad. Then he gave vent to quite a loud "Jingo!" and instantly ducked his head low behind the back of the chaise, for von Hildemaller moved. Up to that moment, during weary hours, he had sat in his seat almost without movement, and undoubtedly had lapsed into sleep, for his snores, like his breathing, shook the air about him. Now he woke up with a start, stared about him in a frightened manner, and then called to the driver:
"Stop! I heard something. Someone speaking, and close at hand."
Obediently the driver pulled up his tired pony, and, looking back, stared sleepily at his master.
"A voice? Someone speaking? You heard something, master?" he grumbled. "No, no, surely; for we have been on the road alone, and not a soul has been near us—not a soul. You have been asleep, Master."
And yet von Hildemaller, the ever-suspicious von Hildemaller, was not satisfied. He stood up stiffly and with difficulty, gripping the rail behind the driver's seat to steady himself, and causing the light chaise to rock on its springs. He stared to either side of him, trying to penetrate the dusk of early morning; he even peered over the back of the carriage, whereat Geoff and Phil ducked even lower, while the former, gripping the axle with those strong fingers of his, made ready to reach up and grapple with the German. But the Teuton's eyes were still heavy with sleep, and, failing to see those two who had clung like limpets to his chaise throughout the night, he turned, setting the vehicle rocking again, and stared out before him. A guttural exclamation escaped from those broad lips of his:
"Ach! but Bagdad at last. And there, some comfort, some ease, after a terrible experience. But wait, wait! I have been thinking, I have been dreaming. Yes, he who strikes von Hildemaller strikes one who never forgets, never forgives; and who will repay, however long the interval, however long the debt may be owing."
He sighed deeply, yawned till his jaws threatened to crack, and until he displayed a cavity even bigger than that which Geoff had compelled and into which Philip had thrust the gag with such delight. Then the German sank back into his seat again, and bade the driver, peremptorily, to drive onwards. Soon, too, heavy breathing just in front of them told the two young subalterns that von Hildemaller was sleeping again.
"Rather a near thing that, eh?" grinned Philip, his head now close to his chum's, and displaying just a little more common sense and caution. "What would we have done if he had spotted us that time when he looked round?"
It was Geoff's turn to smile, a meaning smile, while he stretched out one hand, balancing himself in that uncomfortable position which he had maintained throughout the night, and slowly doubled up the fingers of the other hand—fingers bursting with muscle and with tendons as strong and as elastic as steel—doubled them up slowly, in a manner which seemed to emphasize the power within them, whereat Philip sniffed and sniggered. In a moment, in fact, he realized how much Geoff had longed for another tussle with the German, how he would have almost welcomed discovery at that moment.
"I know," he whispered. "I know what you'd have done, and the beggar deserves it. You'd have taken him by the neck, you'd have remembered Douglas Pasha, and you'd have squeezed the life out of his body."
Of a sudden he gripped the powerful hand held out before him, gripped it and shook it with energy, while he stared hard at his chum.
"Why not?" he asked. "Good idea! Why not? Why not squeeze the life out of him now that we've got him, that is, almost squeeze it out of him. There's nothing to fear, we ain't surrounded by a prison, and we'd soon clear that driver off, or, for the matter of that, force him to do our bidding. Why not grab this brutal German and squeeze him till his eyes bulge out of his head, till he's choking, till he'll be glad to give away that secret of his, till he'll beg and beg and whine to us that he'll release Douglas Pasha? Why not?"
He could feel Geoff's powerful hand suddenly compressed under his grip, could feel the fingers clench even tighter, while Geoff himself dropped from the axle to the road, as if the words had stung him to energy. It was what he had done, and Philip too, many a time throughout the night; on many an occasion, when meeting some long rise, they had been glad, in fact, to drop from the somewhat uncomfortable perches they had found, and to trudge along behind the carriage. Unbeknown to the German, unsuspected by the driver, yet doubtless to the knowledge of the animal which dragged it, they had even helped to propel the carriage up some of the risings, accelerating its progress to such an extent that the sleepy driver was amazed at the powers displayed by the animal he drove, and at length was so struck by its prowess that he wakened sufficiently to think the matter over and to weigh its value.
"Allah, but this is a strange thing!" he had said to himself more than once, at first very sleepily, and then with a little more spirit. "Allah, but the beast is possessed! For see, ever before when we have made this journey and have come to these hills I have had to use the whip with vigour, even I have had to dismount and walk beside the carriage. It is wonderful; for see how thin the beast is and old, and now he pulls like a giant, like a thoroughbred, like an Arab."
It entirely defeated him; the phenomenon was one he could not understand however much he puzzled; and puzzling and wondering made him even more sleepy. Thus the long hours of darkness had passed, if not comfortably for Geoff and his chum, yet cheerfully enough. Above all, their thoughts were filled with the engrossing subject of their liberty. They felt like birds entrapped who had broken from a cage after weeks and weeks of imprisonment. They were filled with a feeling of wonderful exhilaration, while the knowledge that, though free, they were in the midst of an enemy country, with enemies all about them, added rather a zest to the whole business.
And now Philip had made a proposition—a proposition of such importance and so momentous in its results—if the plan were carried out, that Geoff had felt compelled to leap to his feet and run along behind the carriage. It was perhaps five minutes later when he plumped himself down on the axle again, trailing his stockinged feet along the dusty surface of the road, while he stared out into the rising dusk behind them.
"Eh?" asked Philip, returning eagerly to the subject, knowing well from his experience of his chum that no decision was to be expected until sufficient time had elapsed for our hero to consider the proposition. Perhaps it was that Geoff was possessed of a certain sort of canny instinct, perhaps even it was those journeys with Douglas Pasha, those travels amongst Arabs and other peoples, which had taught him caution, which had in a certain measure taught him to smother his thoughts, and to hide his feelings from other people. Inscrutable his face never was, nor ever would be, for it shone with healthy, youthful frankness; but the eyes were thoughtful eyes, eyes which told those who looked into them that the owner was possessed of some degree of caution, while, as we have said, Philip, his best and most intimate chum, knew that Geoff was one not to be hurried.
"Eh?" he asked again impulsively. "You'd strangle the beast easily. I could with the fingers of one hand. Wait a moment. If we slip out here and hang on to these back springs we can pull up that old horse in a moment; then we tip the show over, and throw our German friend into the gutter. How's that? I'd love to see him roll."
And so would Geoff, very much indeed, and yet what would be the object?
"Let's just think the matter out, and chat it over quietly," he told the impulsive Phil, restraining him with a grip of his strong fingers. "Supposing we'd settled with the scoundrel—now I'd just love to."
"And I'd dote on it," Phil chimed in readily.
"We both would," said Geoff soberly; "and as to our being able to do so, pooh! there's no doubt about it. Single-handed I think we could easily handle both those beggars, so that we can put that question aside and take it for granted that we are easily the victors, but—and here comes the rub—supposing we've cornered the driver, and have squeezed this German's neck till his eyes are bulging, and until, in fact, he's whining and begging for his life, and ready to do anything for us—supposing we've got to that stage, eh?"
"Yes, supposing we have," Phil grinned, for the very mention of squeezing von Hildemaller till his eyes bulged reminded him of that scene in the cell, when Geoff had gripped the German across the mouth, while Philip stood in front of him. Those cunning eyes had bulged with a vengeance then, had bulged horribly, had bulged in a manner which showed the Teuton's terror. Oh yes, it would be pleasant enough to witness such a thing again, knowing well how much they owed to this treacherous German; but then—"Let's suppose he's collared then," agreed Phil at length. "Now then?"
"Well, he's collared, he's shouting for mercy, he's perspiring and blowing worse than ever," said Geoff. "He's ready to take us right off to this prison, and ready to hand over his captive. But where are we? We have got the German and his driver, and we have got this carriage and the sorry animal that pulls it, but please remember we are still in what remains of our khaki. We are obviously aliens and enemies, the first passer-by would recognize us and give an alarm, a crowd would collect in no time, even far out in the desert, and long before we could get to the place where my guardian is imprisoned we should be captured—possibly shot—at any rate foiled altogether."
It was with difficulty that Phil suppressed a whistle—a whistle of astonishment, of amazement, and of pride in his comrade. He had always known Geoff to be a strangely long-headed, logical sort of fellow, but now, hearing him talk so quietly and on such an occasion, he could not help but admire him.
"Spoken like a lawyer," he said at last, and quite seriously, "a fellow can see that there's nothing but solid reason behind what you're saying. We could, as you tell me, easily do for this German and make him howl—how I'd jolly well like to hear him—but where's the advantage gained, as you say? Lost altogether by premature action. Only, if we don't take advantage of the fellow now that he is, as you may say, in our power, what are we to do? for it's getting lighter every minute, and in a little while any passers-by there may be—and people will be beginning to move once daylight comes—will stop us, and will give the very warning of which you have spoken."
No doubt the problem was a knotty one, and one requiring a great deal of consideration. That Geoff and Philip could remain much longer on their unsteady and uncomfortable perches was out of the question, and yet, where were they to go? which way were they to turn? and, above all, where could they get refreshment? The sight of a collection of palms to the right of the road, and almost abreast of them, seemed to decide Geoff of a sudden, for he turned to Phil on the instant.
"Let's drop off here," he said; "those palms up there may give us some sort of shelter, and possibly we may discover food also. Later on we'll go on into Bagdad, and there I shall be able to find at least one friend who will give us assistance."
Dropping from the carriage at once, they stood in the centre of the road in a cloud of whirling dust, listening to the carriage as it rattled onward towards the city; and, as the dust subsided and allowed them to see farther, they caught once more those gleams of light from the roofs of Bagdad—flashes which seemed to signal them onward. For the rest, the country-side all about them was still half-hidden in mist, above which the tops of that grove of palm-trees which had attracted Geoff's attention could be seen. Turning towards them without a word, they scrambled their way uphill, till presently they had left the hard gravelly surface over which they had been travelling and entered upon an area clad in green, over which grass and bushes grew profusely; and, after a little while, found themselves in a thick grove of trees, which, if they promised nothing else, promised shelter once the sun had risen. There, standing beneath the palms, they waited until the morning mist had been dispersed by the rays of the rising sun, and until they could see far and wide over that portion of Mesopotamia, and even as far as the city of Bagdad. Then they turned, and, striding on amongst the palms, were soon far within them, and in little danger of being discovered by travellers on the high road.
"Hold on a moment," said Phil of a sudden; "I can smell something." He sniffed the air like a dog, turning in all directions.
"It's over here, behind us, deeper in the palms; there's a fire burning, I'm sure; and, Jingo! I'm positive there's meat cooking."
The aroma came to their nostrils more strongly as the minutes passed, and attracted them like a magnet. Slowly and cautiously they crept between the palms, until they gained the edge of a clearing in the midst of which stood a somewhat curious dwelling. It was neither tent nor house nor cottage, but a combination of all three, a domicile constructed partly of mud walls, partly of palm-leaves, and here and there finished off, as it were, with stretches of camel-hair material. In front of it a wood fire smouldered, while a thin wisp of smoke rose above it and was blown into the trees. A rough, iron tripod stood over it, and from it depended an iron pot, in which, doubtless, meat was stewing. The aroma made Philip's mouth water, and made Geoff quite irritable and impatient.
"Looks like the habitation of some nomad shepherd," he told Philip; "wonder who it can be, and how many there are in the family? In ordinary times I'd have gone straight up to the house and asked for food and shelter, but a fellow can't do that now, and it's more than likely that whoever owns the place carries arms with him always."
They stood under the shade of those palm-trees for perhaps half an hour, watching the hut, watching the smouldering fire, and sniffing enviously at the steam which blew over towards them. If they had never known before what it was to be really hungry, they knew it well that bright morning when so close to food, so eagerly desirous of it, and so far, it seemed, from the likelihood of being able to secure it. It made them almost desperate at last, till they were ready to risk anything; but then, again, common sense—that fund of caution possessed by both of them—held them back, kept them out of sight, and restrained their impatience. A man came out of the hut at last—a tall, bronzed Arab, over whose shoulders was slung an ancient rifle, and in whose hand was borne a long stick which he used to support himself whilst walking. Calling over his shoulder and whistling for a dog, which came bounding out of the hut, he set off along a path which led through the trees within some twenty yards of our heroes, so close, in fact, that it was a wonder that the dog did not discover them; and when he was gone, and they could no longer hear his steps, a woman emerged from the hut—an Arab like her lord and master. Throwing logs on the fire, and replenishing the contents of the iron pot with something she carried in a basket, she closed the door of the somewhat dilapidated house, and took the same path as the man.
