The war maker

by Horace Herbert Smith

Here was a romantic promise of something new and real in the way of excitement, for I could imagine nothing stereotyped growing out of such an unusual beginning, and I rejoiced. The answer to the inspiring invitation, which I promptly burned from discretion while sentiment told me to keep it, required no thought, and as I am not much given to the exertion of energy in seeking solutions for difficult problems that will soon supply their own answers, I did not greatly concern myself as to the purpose of the plot in which I was sought as a partner. Inasmuch as the only man in Cairo who knew me as Captain Boynton, and who was acquainted with my favorite occupation, was a confidant of the Khedive, it naturally occurred to me that the oily Tewfik Pasha was mixed up in it in some way, and I suspected that it involved another secret movement against British rule in Egypt. The latter suspicion was soon verified and there never has been any doubt in my own mind that I was equally correct in the conjecture as to the participation, or at least the silent approval, of Tewfik, but this could not be proved.

Knowing the mystery-loving nature of the Egyptians and feeling sure that if left wholly to their own ways they would entertain themselves with a long correspondence which could do no good and might arouse suspicion, I determined to bring matters to a head as quickly as possible. It was evident that those who sought my services knew much about me and it was quite as important to me that I should know them. The next evening, before going down to dinner, I wrote my answer. “Yes,” I replied to the encouraging query, “provided it is something a gentleman can do, and I am well paid for it. But I will conduct no negotiations in this way. I must see the people I am doing business with.”

After dinner I retired to the same out-of-the-way corner of the garden in which I had been found the night before, on the side farthest away from the hotel and the music, to await developments. It probably was not long, but it seemed hours, before the same three women came up the short flight of steps running down to the street. The one who was doing duty as a letter carrier, and who bore the imaginative name of Ialla, was the last to appear. On reaching the level of the garden her eyes roamed quickly around until they turned toward where I was sitting. Seeing me, she drew her veil across her face, as though she resented being classed with the unregenerate fellahin, and wished to show more discrimination in her love affairs than they could boast, and accompanied her companions in their ostensible bargaining tour among the guests. To one who paid them even casual attention they must have appeared as timid traders, so lacking were they in the customary insistence, and it was with small profits and no great loss of time that they found their way around to me. As on the night before, it was left to Ialla to barter with me. I again took both of her hands in mine, to examine her jewelry, of which she wore a wealth that, like her looks, belied her dress, and as I did so I slipped into one of them the tightly folded note which I had been gripping for an hour or more. Her jewels were much richer than those she had worn the previous evening and as I studied their barbaric beauty I softly pressed her childish hands, as the only means of conveying something of the impression she had made on me, for I did not know the extent to which the other women were in our secret or could be trusted. Her only response was one quick glance, which I interpreted as a mixture of pleasure, surprise, and interrogation; the one distinctly pleasant thing about it was that it contained nothing of indignation or hostility. Save for that electric flash her wonderful eyes looked modestly downward and her whole attitude was one of perfect propriety, which more than ever convinced me that she was not what she pretended to be. Finally she drew her hands away, hurriedly but gently, and with an impatient gesture, as though she had made up her mind that I had no idea of making a purchase, led her companions out of the garden.

There was no sign of either Ialla or her two friends the next evening, though I watched for them closely. On the second afternoon I received a call from my old friend, who undoubtedly had recommended me and vouched for me to the people who had opened up the exceedingly interesting correspondence. It was apparently a casual visit but its purpose was revealed when, in the course of a general conversation regarding the country and its ways, along which he had cleverly piloted me, he said: “These Egyptians are a remarkable people. I have lived among them long enough to know them and to admire, particularly, their sublime religious faith and their exalted sense of honor. With their enemies, and with the travellers on whom they prey, they are tricky and evasive to the last degree, but in their dealings with people whom they know and trust they are the most honorable men in the world. I don’t know whether you expect to have any dealings with them, but if you do, you can trust them absolutely.”

With that opening I was on the point of speaking to him about the note I had received and answered, but before I could say a word he had started off on another subject, leaving me to understand that he knew all about the matter but did not wish to talk of it, and that he had taken that method, learned from the diplomats, of endorsing the people with whom he had put me in communication. We gossiped on for some time, but though each knew what was uppermost in the other’s mind neither of us spoke of it, nor was the subject even indirectly referred to again.

This conversation indicated that the veiled proceedings were nearing the point of a personal interview with some one who knew something about the scheme, and when I took my seat in the garden that evening I was impatient for further unfoldings. Not knowing what might happen, and despite the afternoon’s guarantee of good faith from a man I had every reason to trust, I took the precaution to arm myself with two Tranter revolvers. I had not been waiting long when Ialla and her two companions appeared and came straight toward me, but without any sign of recognition. As she passed close beside me, walking slowly, Ialla whispered, almost in my ear: “Follow me at ten o’clock.”

It was then about nine-thirty. The inharmonious trio moved on into the throng of guests and, as the time passed, gradually worked their way around toward the stairway leading down to the street. A few minutes before ten I descended into the street to wait for them, so it could not be seen from the hotel that I was following them. Promptly on the hour Ialla and her attendants came down the steps and set off toward Old Cairo, which, however much it may have been spoiled since, was then just the same as when Haroun-al-Raschid used to take his midnight rambles. At the corner of the hotel two men dressed as servants stepped out of a shadow and fell in close behind them, apparently to prevent me from engaging them in conversation, which, but for this barrier, I assuredly would have done. With all amorous advances thus discouraged I remained far enough behind so that it would not appear that I was one of the party. They led me almost the full length of the Mooshka, the main street of the old town and the only one wide enough to permit the passing of two carriages; turned into one of the narrow side streets, then into another and another until they stopped at last in front of a door at the side of one of the little shops. When I was within perhaps fifty feet of them Ialla entered the door, after looking back at me, while her four companions walked rapidly on down the street. I pushed open the door, which was immediately closed by a servant who dropped a bar across it, and found Ialla waiting for me in a dimly lighted hallway. She led me nearly to the end of the long hall, opened a door and motioned to me to enter and closed the door from the outside. I found myself in a large room, which, after my eyes had become accustomed to the half light, I saw was magnificently furnished. A fine-looking old Arab, with gray hair and beard, was seated on an ottoman, smoking a bubble pipe. His bearing was majestic and for the purpose of easy identification he will be known here as Regal, though that was not his name.

“I am glad to see you, Pasha Boynton,” was his greeting, in a deep, strong voice. He proved himself a man of action, and advanced himself greatly in my esteem by giving no time to idle chatter. “We know you well,” he said, “through trustworthy information, as a soldier and a sailor, and we believe you are peculiarly well equipped for the work we wish you to undertake. It is a sea-going expedition, involving danger of disaster on one hand and the cause of liberty and a substantial reward on the other. Are you willing to attempt it?”

“If you are open to reasonable terms and I am given full command of the expedition, I will gladly undertake it,” I replied. “If it furnishes real adventure I will be quite willing to accept that in part payment for my services.”

“Then we should be able to agree without difficulty,” he answered with a grim smile. “But,” he added, as his keen face took on a stern expression and his eyes looked through mine into my brain, “whether or not we do reach an agreement, we can rely on you to keep our secret and to drop no hint or word through which it might be revealed?”