Frank Forester: A Story of the Dardanelles

by Herbert Strang

The German's orderly, it was clear, had signalled to him. Who was the man? What message had he intended to convey? From whom was the message?

Frank had at first hardly noticed the man. Even when his attention was attracted, he had observed the man's actions rather than the man himself. He did not recognise him. The man was young; he wore the ordinary uniform of the Turkish soldier; whether he was a pure Turk, or an Armenian, or an Anatolian, or a member of any other of the races that are represented in the Turkish army, Frank could not tell. Whoever he was, the one plain fact was that he was a friend, and it was remarkable enough that a friend should have appeared in company with Wonckhaus.

What did he mean by his stealthy manoeuvres with the watch? Frank remembered how the man had glanced from the watch to the window. Did he suggest a connection between them? Almost unconsciously Frank took out his own watch and noted the time; then he replaced it in his pocket, looking absent-mindedly at the window. And then an explanation flashed upon him. The messenger, or his employer, knew English. He knew it well enough to play upon words. "Watch the window!" That must be the message.

Frank got up and paced the room.

"There's somebody working for me outside," he thought. "Very likely Joseph. Though I never knew Joseph to make a pun. Still, he does know a little English. But why should I watch the window?"

He stood beneath it, and looked at the small square frame, scarcely larger than a ship's porthole. It might be just possible to squeeze through it. Did his friend, whoever he was, intend that he should escape that way? Would he find a ladder placed against the wall? Such an escape would be possible only on some dark night, and what was the good of watching the window in the dark? Besides, with soldiers in the lower rooms, was it possible to place a ladder so silently as not to arouse their attention? If it were possible, would not his movements be seen at least by some prowling dog, whose barks would give the alarm?

Frank was puzzled. As he walked up and down, his head was constantly turned towards the window; it seemed as though he dared not take his eyes from it for a moment, lest in that moment he should miss the chance of release. When night came, he threw himself on his bed, and lay for hours wakeful, gazing in the one direction. No light was allowed him. He looked up at the stars until they appeared to dance, and his eyes ached with following their fantastic movements. That night he scarcely slept. If he found himself dozing, he would rouse himself with a start, and stare again at that spot in the wall which was only distinguishable from the blank spaces about it by the winking stars.

Next day it was the same. Worn and nervous, whether he sat or walked, even when Hussein brought him his meals, he stared at the window. The Arab noticed the fixity of his gaze, and told the soldiers downstairs that the Ingliz would soon go out of his mind. And indeed, when two days and a night had passed, and nothing had appeared at the blank pane, Frank himself felt that suspense and the strain of watching would drive him mad.

On the night of the second day, just after dark, when Frank for the sake of warmth was lying beneath the bedclothes, wakeful and hopeless, he was suddenly startled by an unusual sound--a slight tapping, like the flapping of a blind-cord against glass. His heart was thumping as he sprang out of bed and ran to the window. It was too dark to see anything, but there was unmistakably an object of some kind lightly striking the glass at irregular intervals. Excited with expectation, he mounted on the stool and reaching up for the fastening of the casement, slowly and cautiously, to avoid noise, he undid the rusty latch, and drew the casement inwards. The blast of inrushing air was bitterly cold. He thrust out his hand, moving it from side to side, but felt nothing.

At this moment he heard heavy footsteps clumping up the stairs that led past his room to the roof. He closed the window, though the sound had not surprised him: it was only the men going up to fetch the sheep which were taken up every morning to graze on the turf-covered roof, and brought down every night. He heard the footsteps coming down: then all was silent again.