"Spy!" The officer was in the midst of the shout when the blow struck him on the forehead, for in the darkness Dick missed his aim and went a trifle high. But a lusty fist, wielded though it was by a youth not yet fully grown, and coming against the Turk's forehead so unexpectedly, had a startling effect upon that individual. His sword left his hand and went to the ground with a clatter, the man himself following swiftly and landed upon the cobbles with a thump. As for Dick, he turned to bolt for his life, guessing that other undesirable and inquisitive persons might be near at hand and have heard that shout. But he need have had little fear. If anyone had heard and were inclined to venture near, their inclination was subdued at once by the landing of a shell some thirty yards down this narrow street. Dick heard it crash against the cobbles and instantly threw himself flat, being only just in time to escape the succeeding explosion. A hot blast of flame and gas swept over his recumbent figure. For one brief second the street and the mean houses on either side were brilliantly illuminated, and then there was darkness and silence again, save for dimly-heard shrieks of terror from the distance and the moaning of a man nearer at hand. Dick scrambled to his feet, turned to go, and then swung his head round to look at the spot he had so recently vacated. There was a glimmer on the cobbles, and the faint outline of a lamp turned on its side.
"Why not?" he asked himself. "A lamp would be useful later on perhaps. That officer fellow is moaning. Wonder whether that's due to my blow or to the shell which just now exploded?"
As a matter of fact, his sudden blow had considerably startled the Turk, and had made him lose his balance with a vengeance. Then he had sat up giddily, only to be struck by a stone hurled in that direction by the explosion. Dick went hastily across to him, picked up the lamp, and closely inspected his late enemy.
"Captain of an infantry battalion," he told himself. "No, not a captain; merely a subaltern. Not so very old either. No hair on his face at any rate. Let's see how he's dressed. Greatcoat, belts and sabre, and revolver pouch. Nothing on his head at the moment but—ah, there's the fez! Why, it just fits me. Now I wonder if——"
It was hardly the place to stop and wonder, for without doubt a general bombardment had begun, and stray messages from the allies were falling about him. Dick took the lamp and went to the opening from which this officer had come. He pushed the door before him and found it opened easily. He knocked loudly, then entered without hesitation, and threw his light into the downstairs rooms. They were empty, as was also the upper part of the house.
"Just the sort of little crib we want," he told himself. "Sorry, of course, for the officer, but he shouldn't have been so inquisitive. Anyway, I'll have to borrow some of his belongings. But first I'll fetch Alec and the Commander."
Perhaps ten minutes later Commander Jackson was resting on a settee or divan in the house which Dick had selected, while Dick and Alec rapidly removed the Turk's greatcoat and fez as well as his weapons. Then they picked him up, and staggered away with his unconscious figure till they had gained a street some distance from the spot where he had accosted our hero.
"That'll do. He'll be picked up by his friends some time, and won't soon find his way back to the house. Jingo, ain't things humming!"
It was strange, as the morning light slowly stole upon the besieged city of Adrianople and penetrated the windows of that house borrowed by Dick and Alec, to see those two young hopefuls resting contentedly on the divan running the length of an upstairs room, eagerly discussing the food they had brought with them, as well as this curious situation. As to the Commander, he was no longer snoring so stertorously. He was conscious, and was gazing fixedly at his comrades.
"What next?" he was asking quite jovially in spite of his headache.