Carry On! A Story of the Fight for Bagdad

by Herbert Strang

CHAPTER V

SECRET SERVICE

Behind the screen, Burnet had listened to the three officers' conversation with mixed feelings. On the one hand he had gained a piece of information which might be of importance and well worth his risky visit to Bagdad. On the other, he had placed himself in a position which made it very doubtful whether he would be able to use the information, or even to escape with his life. There was short shrift for any spy.

What could he do? Burckhardt, on the departure of his visitors, rang for his servant, ordered him to prepare breakfast, and retired into his bedroom to finish his interrupted toilet. The servant set the table. In a few minutes the German would be engaged with his meal, after which he would no doubt resume work at his desk. Burnet felt that if he did not escape at once he would probably have no opportunity later. The only possible chance seemed to be to follow the servant as quietly as possible when he should leave the room to fetch his master's food. What course would then be open to him he could not guess. He was ignorant of the plan of the house. All that he knew of it was that small portion which he had passed through with Firouz Ali. The front door opened into a small courtyard about which the house was built, with a verandah along the front of the house. Near the outer door, on a small square of carpet within the shade of the verandah, sat the doorkeeper, cross-legged. To gain freedom Burnet would have to reach the front undetected, cross or skirt the courtyard, and pass the doorkeeper. It was so far fortunate that Burckhardt had followed the oriental custom in employing a native porter, instead of being guarded by a sentry as might have been expected. There was, it was clear, a back door, giving access no doubt to one of the narrow evil-smelling lanes which Bagdad, like every oriental city, has in plenty; but to go exploring in search of that was out of the question.

The doorkeeper was the difficulty. Burnet wished that Firouz Ali had not been so ready with his explanation of his being unaccompanied by the apprentice. The man would almost certainly be suspicious if the apprentice who, he supposed, had already left the house should come out of the front door so long after his master. Even if not suspicious, he might detain Burnet for a chat on things in general, or to enquire the reason of the barber's anger, and during their talk the servant might come into the courtyard and see him. Burnet was taxing his wits for some means of eluding the doorkeeper when the servant, having set the table, went off to fetch the meal. For the moment there was but one thing to be done: to escape from the room before either the man or the master re-entered it.

No sooner had the servant gone out, leaving the door open, than Burnet slipped from his hiding-place and followed him on tiptoe into the passage. The servant had turned to the right, no doubt towards the kitchen. Burnet, waiting at the doorway until he had disappeared, hurried to the left towards the front door, paused until he had made sure that the doorkeeper on the far side of the courtyard had not seen him, then slipped under the shade of the verandah behind a tall plant growing in a pot. He had noticed, under the verandah on the opposite side, not far from the doorkeeper, a pile of packing-cases, in which he guessed that Burckhardt's antiquities had been transported. This pile would form a securer shelter than the plant, which was in full view of any one who might enter the courtyard from the street. Stealing round the verandah close to the wall, he got behind the cases; and breathing a little more freely, waited to consider his next move.

He looked across the courtyard, and through the window of Burckhardt's room saw that officer, now in his military uniform, come from his bedroom and seat himself at the table. The servant brought in a tray, poured out his master's coffee, then disappeared. Burckhardt propped a book against the water-jug, and divided his attention between that and his breakfast. There was little to be feared from him.

The doorkeeper remained on his mat. He was not even drowsy. Burnet tried to think of something that would account for his presence, but found nothing that would not involve such lengthy explanations as he was anxious to avoid. If only something would take the doorkeeper away for a minute or so!—the wish had no sooner formed itself than an idea occurred to him. The cases and crates among which he was sheltering were very insecurely stacked. A slight push would displace one of the topmost. Its fall would probably bring the doorkeeper to the spot, not to replace it—that would not be his job, and an oriental servant is the last man in the world to do more than he must—but to satisfy his curiosity and find a subject for conversation. Burnet might then dodge behind the other cases towards the doorway, and with luck slip out.

The plan was no sooner formed than acted on. A heavy crate, which a European would have put at the base of the pile instead of at the summit, toppled over on to the paving-stones with a crash and flying splinters. But the stolid doorkeeper only turned his head for an instant. A crate had fallen: what was that to him? The noise, however, had an effect which Burnet had not reckoned on. Burckhardt, with his napkin round his neck and the coffee-pot in his hand, came to the window. His servant appeared at the door.

"What is that?" the latter called.

"Have you no eyes, foolish one?" answered the doorkeeper without rising. "The crate lies where it fell."

Here Burckhardt threw open the window and roared, with his mouth half full:

"Get up, you son of idleness, and set the crate back in its place, and take care that it is secure. Shall I speak twice?"

Burnet, keeping out of view, saw the doorkeeper rise slowly and move towards the crate. The servant returned into the house, no doubt fearing that he might be called upon to lend a hand. But Burckhardt remained at the window to see that his command was carried out. Burnet was in despair. He could dodge the doorkeeper, but it was impossible to reach the door unnoticed while Burckhardt stood looking on. But the German, seeing that the man was stirring, went back, presumably to fill his cup, or to replace the coffee-pot on the table. Burnet seized the lucky moment. He slipped along behind the pile, threw a hasty glance towards the house, and knowing that the doorkeeper's back was now turned to him, darted through the open doorway into the street.

Firouz Ali uttered a fervent "Mashallah!" when Burnet, a few minutes later, walked into his shop, then empty.

"Verily a leaden weight is lifted from my heart, Aga," he said. "It was bowed down with the fear that you were in the hands of the enemy. Tell me by what device you escaped out of the net."

Burnet explained.

"It was well done," said the barber, "and surely good fortune attends you. But give heed to the words of one who has learnt wisdom. Let two thoughts go before one action. What need to hide in the very chamber of the foe? Am I a child? Could you not trust me to bring us both safely away? Such foolishness leads you into dangers that might be avoided: moreover, it might have brought my own head into peril, for has not a sword hung over it by a hair these many years? Nay, more: my life must end some day: such is the fate of all; but I would not that it should end before my eyes have seen the glory for which I have striven since I was a beardless youth."

"What you say is quite right, my old friend," said Burnet. "I was rash, and I am sorry for it. But after all, if I had not hidden I should not have learned what I did."

"What was that?" asked the barber eagerly.

"The Germans are joining hands with that rogue Halil to attack Rejeb son of Hussein. I have not told you yet—I have not had time—that I met Rejeb on my way here, and was able to do him a trifling service. Halil's men were even then hunting him."

"Mashallah! What you did for him was well done, for Rejeb is as a pillar in the temple of our freedom. If any harm befalls him, not only will a heavy blow be dealt against the faithful who would throw off the Turkish yoke, but the safety of your own countrymen between the rivers yonder will be put in jeopardy. There are tribes in the desert, now friendly to you, or at least wavering, which would turn to the enemy from very fear if Rejeb fell; and then your people would be harassed by constant raids, and their task, heavy enough, would be doubly hard. And I may tell you now that the dervish Hezar, when he left the city of late, set forth to learn how stand the minds of the tribes bordering the Euphrates towards you. Of him I have heard nothing: he is in the hands of Allah!"

The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of a customer; indeed, it was not resumed until the time of the midday siesta checked the stream of customers who came to Firouz Ali for his professional attentions and almost as much for the flow of chat which he poured out. Burnet admired the unfailing tact with which the barber suited his talk to the tastes and interests of his various patrons. He remarked, too, how cleverly his friend, knowing that his stay in Bagdad must be brief, prepared his customers for another change of assistants.

"Wallahi! Mahmoud was a hunchback," he said to one, "but he was learning his craft: whereas this poor thing, my nephew, fresh from his benighted village, will never make a barber, even though he live to the age of the patriarchs. His tongue is slow, an ill thing in barbers; moreover, he is clumsy as a camel: did he not this very morning fill the mouth of a German effendi with soap, to my everlasting shame? No, he must find other work for his unruly hands."

Burnet listened to all this with secret amusement, and laughed heartily when, in a leisure moment, Firouz Ali apologised for his uncomplimentary remarks.

"My friend, I enjoyed them," he said. "Besides, you are quite right. I am conscious that I never should make a satisfactory barber."

It was not until the end of the day that they were thoroughly at leisure to discuss the course of action which Burnet ought to follow as the result of what he had learnt. Firouz Ali decided to send a messenger to warn Rejeb of his impending danger: the same man would also try to penetrate to the British lines with a message from Burnet giving the same information. Meanwhile Burnet himself, in pursuance of the object that had brought him to Bagdad, would remain at any rate for a few days to pick up any information he could regarding the enemy's movements and plans. With this purpose it would be necessary to find opportunities of visiting different parts of the city. The barber pointed out that it was no longer easy, as in the past, to perambulate the city without exciting suspicion. The old laxity had disappeared when the Germans assumed control. Discipline was now rigorous in the army, and the civil administration had been militarised. Burnet was not likely to learn more about the Turkish arrangements than Firouz Ali could tell him. His reply to this was that he wanted not only to know the numbers and constitution of the military forces, the extent of their supplies and so on; in addition, for the purpose he had in view, he must learn by personal observation exactly where the storehouses were situated.

During the next few days the two men spent a good many hours in going about the city and its neighbourhood. For these excursions they chose the middle part of the day, when people in authority were resting, and the shop could be left most safely. They were always prepared with a story.

While talking matters over with Firouz Ali, and combating the objections he raised on the score of prudence, Burnet had a happy thought. Why should not the barber make capital of his summons to Burckhardt? Let him announce through his agents that during the middle part of the day, when people of consideration were resting, and few or no customers came to the shop, the barber who had had the honour of attending upon Bukkad Bey would visit at their own lodgings any who were at leisure to be refreshed with a shampoo, to have their nails trimmed, or their hair improved by the application of his famous lotion.

"But what will it profit?" asked Firouz Ali, not seeing the drift of the suggestion. "If I am thus employed, how can I accompany you in your goings to and fro, and accompany you I must, for your own safety?"

"My friend, we may thus account for our presence in any part of the city at unusual hours, armed with our brushes and bottles. And as for those who would avail themselves of your services, what easier than to explain to a man in one quarter that when he wanted you, you were busy in another?"

The plan, as further explained, was one after Firouz Ali's own heart, and next morning it was put in operation. It succeeded admirably. For a day or two the barber, always accompanied by his apprentice, spent the early afternoon in practising his craft here and there in the city; then, having taken care that his new activities should be talked about, he dropped them, and led Burnet to the quarters he was anxious to see. He was sometimes stopped and questioned, but his explanation was always ready, with his apparatus for credentials.

After each excursion Burnet, on his return to the barber's house, took from its place of concealment between the soles of one of his shoes a plan of Bagdad, placed over it a sheet of semi-transparent paper such as is commonly used in the country, and marked upon it a small dot over the spot at which some military establishment was situated. In the course of a few days this paper, which would have appeared to the uninitiated merely a blank sheet with a number of scattered and apparently meaningless dots, was in reality a compendium of important discoveries.

One day, when they were out on their usual errand, Burnet's wish to discover the exact position of certain ammunition barges that lay in the river led them to venture farther than was prudent. They were stopped and questioned by a sentry more than usually alert. Firouz Ali's glib explanations for once did not satisfy the man, perhaps eager for promotion, and they were marched to the guard-room. At the moment none but private soldiers were there, one or two of whom knew the barber, and were quick to inform their comrade that he had made a mistake. While they were discussing the point, there entered the non-commissioned officer whom Firouz Ali had been shampooing at the time of Burnet's arrival at the shop some days before.

"Ahi! What is this?" he cried, in surprise.

"Mashallah! Here is one who knows the truth of things," exclaimed the barber, before the sentry could begin. "This excellent servant of the Padishah did but his duty, beyond doubt, but you, being a man in authority, will be able to content him. Who can bear witness better than you that I am Firouz Ali, the barber of Bagdad, the maker of sweet scents and famous lotions? Is it not known far and wide that the illustrious Bukkad Bey has entrusted to me his noble chin? And was I not honoured in bedewing your own matchless locks with my sweet-savoured essences? And lo, chancing to pass this way, and remembering your witty sayings and all that you told me, I did but think to pay my respects, and perchance to behold with my own eyes your manifold labours in the service of our father the Padishah. And now, wallahi! we are taken, myself and my poor nephew—we are taken, I say, as common malefactors. Woe is me! Shall it be said that Firouz Ali, a man of no little renown——"

"Stay," interrupted the sergeant, clearly flattered at being coupled with Bukkad Bey; "this is very true. That you are Firouz Ali the barber I know, and that you have shaved Bukkad Bey and shampooed me; but who is this? Surely it is the kelakji who came into your shop that morning. Wherefore then is he in your company, his raiment changed?"

"Wallahi! Do not I ask myself that question twenty times a day? This youth, effendi, that came to me that unlucky day—woe is me that I should call him nephew! Behold him, the poor witless loon who ran away from his village and sought fortune vainly in many crafts, and having failed in them all for want of wit, he came to me for help, and I could not believe he was my own brother's son, so much had he grown. Ahi! As his stature increases, so does his mind decrease; he will never be a barber, for all my instruction; and he is fit for nothing better than to carry my pots and perchance to stir a lather. Wallahi! My poor brother!"

"By the Beard, it is a sore affliction for your family," said the sergeant, looking pityingly at Burnet, who stood with half-open mouth and as silly an expression as he could assume. Quite unsuspicious, he rated the sentry for his stupidity in arresting a citizen so well-reputed as Firouz Ali, and ordered the prisoners to be released, at the same time warning the barber against indiscretions in the future.

"Verily it is a lesson," said Firouz Ali, after profusely thanking the man. "I will offend no more. And here, effendi, is a bottle of my famous lotion—a small token of my gratitude, but in truth what can a man give better than his best?"

When they had been escorted beyond the military quarters Firouz Ali uttered a heart-felt invocation of the Prophet.

"It is time for you to go, Aga," he added earnestly. "That sentry has more wits than the ass-head who commands him. Did you not perceive his sulkiness, and the sparkle of some thought in his eye? Of a truth he was not satisfied, and he may even yet bring harm upon you."

"I am inclined to agree with you, my friend," said Burnet, "and the more readily because I doubt whether it is worth while my staying any longer. And I must keep my appointment with my countryman at the tell; there may be delays; I had better start at once."

"We will talk of it this night when the shop is closed. You must not go as you came: ahi! it needs that I work my wits once more for your behoof. What would I not do for the son of my protector and friend!"