“Absolutely,” I replied, and my gaze was as steady as his. He studied me intently for a full minute and then said decisively, in the Arabic fashion: “It is good.”
Without further ceremony he let me into the whole plot. At the bottom of it was the old cry of “Egypt for the Egyptians,” which is not yet dead and probably will not die for centuries, if ever. It was Arabi Pasha who made the last desperate fight under this slogan and it was his release from exile that was sought by the plotters, in order that he might renew the war for native liberty. As a military genius Arabi ranked almost with the great Ibrahim Pasha, who died a few years after Arabi was born, and he was fanatical in his love of country. From a Colonel in the army he became Under Secretary of War and then Minister of War, in which position he was practically the Dictator of Egypt. With the aid of a secret society which he organized among the native officers of the army, and the carefully concealed support of the Sultan, who had protested vainly against the assumption of authority by the British and French over this part of Turkish territory, he planned and executed a revolt through which it was hoped to restore native control of Egypt. The French, more sentimental than selfish, and reluctant to take extreme measures, withdrew at the last moment, leaving it to the British to prosecute the war, which they did with characteristic vigor. The bombardment of Alexandria, on July 11 and 12, 1882, and the rout of his army at Tel-el-Kebir two months later, dissipated Arabi’s dream and, so far as surface indications were concerned, established British rule in Egypt, exclusively and permanently. The movement which Arabi had fostered apparently collapsed with that battle, and he was exiled to Ceylon for life.
Briefly and bitterly this bit of history was reviewed by the old Arab. Then he became more animated. He said the loyal Egyptians had been planning a new movement against the British, with great secrecy, for a long time, and that the natives and a large part of the army were ready to rise in revolt whenever the signal was given. The butchery of the gallant “Chinese” Gordon at Khartoum—a stain on England’s fame which never can be blotted out—had checked the British advance in the Soudan and to some extent paralyzed the officials who, from the safe haven of the War Office in London, were drawing up plans of conquest, and the conspirators believed the time had come for what they were confident would prove a successful and final blow for freedom. But, to make this ardently desired result more certain, they needed the inspiring leadership of Arabi Pasha, in whose talent for conflict they still had great faith, which doubtless was intensified by his enforced absence. Furthermore, Regal explained, the superstitious natives would hail his unexpected return from exile as a sign that they could not be defeated and would fight more desperately and determinedly than before. Through spies it had been learned that Arabi was confined at a point near the coast, only a short distance from Colombo, the capital of Ceylon. He was allowed considerable freedom, within certain prescribed limits, and was in the custody of only a small guard. His escape was regarded as impossible and the idea that an attempt might be made to rescue him seemingly had not entered the minds of those responsible for his safe-keeping.
Yet that was precisely what I was asked to accomplish. After Regal had stated the conditions of Arabi’s captivity he dramatically declared, with flashing eyes: “The fires which the British foolishly thought they had stamped out, were not, and could never be, extinguished. They have been smouldering ever since and are now ready to burst into a flame that will consume everything before it. We need only the presence of the great Arabi. You can bring him to us. With a ship, whose true mission is concealed by methods of which we know you to be a master, you can sail to a point close to his place of confinement. As soon as it is dark and quiet forty or fifty of our brave men, who will accompany you, will be landed. They will steal upon his guards and silence them and return with the General to your ship. There will be none left to give the alarm and by the time it is discovered that he has been snatched away from their cursed hands you will be far out of sight, and with your knowledge of the ways of those who sail the sea it should not be difficult for you to avoid capture. You will land Arabi at some point to be decided on, from which he can make his way to Cairo. With his coming our banners will be unfurled and Egypt will be restored to the Egyptians. It is a mission in the cause of freedom and humanity. Are you willing to undertake it?”
Long before he reached it, I saw his objective point, and ran the whole scheme over in my mind while he was laying down its principles. It did not strike me as being at all foolhardy. As I have said before, it is the so-called impossibilities which, when they are not really impossible, as few of them are, can be most easily accomplished, for the reason that they are not guarded against. Under the conditions described, the rescue of Arabi would be comparatively a simple matter. The chief danger would come from the British warships which would swarm the seas as soon as his disappearance was discovered, for it would be a natural conclusion that he was on some vessel on his way back to Egypt. This danger appealed to me, for it augured well for adventure. It would be a game of hide-and-seek, such as I intensely enjoyed, with my wits pitted against those of the British Navy, and with my varied experiences in deep-sea deception, I did not consider that the odds against me would be overwhelming. Therefore I promptly assured the old patriot, whose anxiety and excitement were shown in his blazing eyes, that I would cheerfully assume responsibility for Arabi’s rescue and his safe delivery at almost any point that might be designated.
“It is good,” he replied, slowly and impressively. “Egypt will be free.”
Profoundly wishing that the noble little “Leckwith” was at my service instead of at the bottom of the sea, I added that I had no ship and it would be necessary to purchase one, as it would be impracticable to charter a vessel for such a purpose. This meant that the expedition would require some financing, in addition to the charge for my services. With a gesture which indicated that everything was settled in his mind and that it was only necessary for me to name my terms to have them agreed to, Regal said he anticipated no difficulty on that point and suggested that I return the next afternoon or evening to meet his associates, who comprised the inner circle of the revolutionary party. I told him I would be glad to come at any hour but I doubted that I could find my way through the labyrinth of narrow streets.
“How has the person who guided you here conducted herself?” he asked.
“Irreproachably.”
“She will signal you to-morrow afternoon or evening. Follow her.”