On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris

by F. S. Brereton

"Of him? Nothing. But you'll take his place within a minute."

"Oh!" Philip exclaimed, and stared through the darkness at his chum. "Take his place in a minute? Certainly!" he said. "But—er—supposing he objects?"

"That's his business," said Geoff, "and ours too, of course. I shall ask him in the politest way possible to step below; or, to be more precise, I propose now to march up to him as if I were one of those three officers down below in the cabin. If he doesn't obey the order I give him——"

"That's our business," said Phil, and he chuckled again. "I've got the whole scheme, Geoff, and you can fire ahead at once. I shall come along quite close behind you, and if the fellow wants to kick up a row, or doesn't like taking orders from a superior officer, I'll knock him overboard. You can leave that part of the business to me. I'm just itching to tackle a Turk, and to start the campaign in real earnest."

"Then come along!" Geoff told him. "We'll creep along as far as the cabin, and peep in to make sure that those fellows below are not likely to be moving, and then I'll go for'ard and accost the sentry. Come along!"

The two of them were already on their knees, crouching below the rail of the vessel, and at once crept forward till they were level with the cabin; then, peering in, Geoff made out the figures of the three officers below, still in the same positions they had occupied before—the fat, bald-headed man, undoubtedly the senior of the party, nodding on the divan, while the officer at the head of the table still smoked and still prattled to his neighbour. Then he nudged Philip, and, passing behind the skylight, stood at his full height, and stepped quickly along the deck towards the sentry, who still marched to and fro, to and fro, apparently without hearing his approach, as he paid no attention to it. Indeed, Geoff was within five yards of him before the man suddenly turned his head and noticed his coming, and just as suddenly came to a halt and grounded his weapon.

"Who goes there?" he challenged, in quite low tones, and it was evident that he was not in the least concerned by Geoff's appearance.

Indeed, he had been anticipating the exit of one officer, at least, from the cabin, where he knew that his betters were smoking and chatting, and no doubt the figure now coming towards him was one of them. Nor was Geoff in the least disconcerted; for, thanks to the dress he wore, to the fez which was perched on his head, and to his command of the language, he felt no doubt of being able to deceive the fellow.

"Officer, going rounds," he answered to the challenge. "Dismiss, my man, and go to your quarters; the Commander feels that there is no need of a sentry while we lie right out here in the river, and, that being the case, there is no need for you to spoil a night's rest. Get down with you!"

The man shouldered his rifle at once and turned as if to obey the order, and then, of a sudden, he swung round again, as if an idea had struck him, or as if he were suspicious. Indeed, there was something which had attracted his attention, a dark, shadowy something which his eyes, hitherto seemingly so useless to him, had discovered following the officer who had just given him the order. It was the dark shadow of a man, creeping along close to the rail of the ship, as if prepared to spring upon the back of the officer.