"There goes the man who has thrown up everything for me," he muttered, with a pained expression in his eyes. "I don't think he'll ever regret it. The greatest object of my life shall be to repay him tenfold!" And he turned away into the town.
George Helmar did not pace the deck, as most modern heroes do, for his passage was steerage, and there was very little deck for him to promenade. Just at first he was low-spirited, he felt the loneliness of his own company, everything seemed different without the bright companionship of his friend beside him. He felt keenly leaving Europe, and all the associations of the land of his birth. He was going to a country of which he knew nothing; he was about to face adventures, the outcome of which it would be impossible to anticipate. He might do well for himself, or on the contrary he might be a failure. All these things passed through his mind in the first few moments of depression that followed his departure, as he found himself cooped up in the unpleasant quarters of the steerage passengers.
He was a man of strong determination, however, and quickly threw off his despondent mood, and busied himself with plans for the future. He pictured no glorious El Dorado in the country to which he was journeying—he was much too sensible. He was aware that he would have to work, and work hard, for whatever he was to make.
One fact he had not passed idly by. He knew that trouble was brewing in Egypt; what it was he was not in a position to know. He had heard, vaguely, that at any moment fighting was likely to occur, and, if so, no doubt he would be in its midst; the very word "War" held out a world of hope to his adventurous spirit. In such times, he knew, there were no end of opportunities for the bold spirit, and, such being the case, he had no intention of letting any such chances pass unheeded.
Thoughts of his father and others he had left behind frequently recurred to him, and he wondered what they would say of his doings. At last he decided to write to all those whom his departure had affected, and tell them everything as it had occurred. This done, he felt more at his ease, and he gave himself up to the enjoyment of the lovely sea air as the vessel sped through the smooth, blue waters of the Mediterranean.
At last land was sighted, and in a short time Helmar put his foot on Egyptian soil.
The quay was thronged with a motley, dirty crew, evidently gathered there to await the arrival of the boat. The air was filled with the yelling and chattering of Arabs and negroes. The crowd was composed of all sorts of porters, hawkers offering their cheap wares for sale at exorbitant prices, dirty donkey boys with their wretched "mokes" looking even more starved and miserable than their owners. The dresses were of many kinds, and in a great variety of colours, from a dingy white to a bright scarlet. Close-fitting gowns and tunics, long, highly-coloured flowing robes, turbans, or semi-European clothing, with the usual Turkish fez, were scattered about in great profusion, and Helmar was glad to jostle his way through them to rest his eyes from the dazzling mixture. The many different tongues that caught his ear, as he made his way through the crowd, confused him terribly. Greek, Italian, French, English, Arabic, Turkish, and Persian, all shouting at once, as it seemed to him, jarred on his nerves, and he wondered if this pandemonium went on all over the town.
Making his way from the docks, he wandered about from place to place in search of quarters.
Failing to find what he wanted, he looked about for some likely-looking Europeans to whom he could appeal for guidance. He was chary of his countrymen abroad, and it was some time before he came across the man he desired.
He was recommended to a certain Greek's house, and, after what seemed an interminable day, he found to his satisfaction that here he could make himself more or less comfortable.