The war maker

by Horace Herbert Smith

With that he arose, terminating the interview; we solemnly shook hands and he escorted me to the door. I was wondering how I should find the way back to my hotel when I descried Ialla and her four shadows waiting for me a short distance down the street. Without a word they showed me the course until I made out the hotel, when they disappeared down a side street.

I was lounging in the garden early the next afternoon, for there was no telling when the summons might come and I would take no chance of missing it. It was about four o’clock, at which hour all Cairo was on parade and the crowd was thickest around the hotel, that Ialla and her faithful female guards entered the lively scene. Her face was almost entirely hidden by her veil but there was no mistaking her eyes. They caught mine and a quick little beckoning motion, which no one else would have noticed, told me to follow her. She soon left, walking slowly, and I took up the trail, restraining myself with an effort from approaching her more closely than wisdom dictated. Avoiding the crowded Mooshka they led me, by a more circuitous route, back to the house where I had been so agreeably entertained the night before, and which was entered in the same way. Regal was waiting for me and with him were five of his countrymen, to whom I was introduced en bloc. They were dignified and reserved but sharp-eyed and vigorous and they looked like fighters of the first water. They were much younger than Regal and evidently, from the deference shown him, he was the chief conspirator.

“These,” he said, with a courtly wave of his hand toward the others, “are the relatives and companions-in-arms of Arabi Pasha and the men who, with me, are directing our operations. They are perfectly responsible, as you will see, and in every way entitled to your confidence, as you are worthy of theirs.”

With this formal assurance we sat down to a detailed discussion of the project. They told me of their plans, as Regal had previously explained them in a general way, and professed confidence that with Arabi in personal command of their forces, and with the active coöperation of the Soudanese, which was assured, they would drive the hated British out of Egypt, and keep them out. Their knowledge of the surroundings at Arabi’s place of confinement and their plan for overpowering his guards and securing his release, which was complete to the slaughter of the last man, showed an intimate acquaintance with conditions that surprised me. From all they told me on this point I gained the idea that they were working in harmony with their brother Mohammedans in India, and that the latter were planning a similar uprising when the conditions were judged to be opportune. Developments since then have strengthened this belief into a conviction. It is never wise to predict, but when England some day becomes involved in a war with a first-class power, like Germany for instance, which will tax her fighting forces to the limit, there need be no surprise if the natives of Egypt and India rise simultaneously and become their own masters.

It was urged by them and agreed that I should take no part in the actual rescue of Arabi but remain on the ship, to guard against any surprise by water and to be ready to steam westward as soon as the party returned. I was to stand in close to the shore just after dark, with all lights doused, and it was thought that Arabi would be safe on board long enough before sunrise so that we could be well clear of the land by daylight. The point at which Arabi was to be landed caused considerable discussion. As the British were certain to promptly patrol the Red Sea, with all of the warships that could be hurried into it, and closely guard the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, it was tentatively decided that the safest and wisest course would be to put him ashore near Jibuti, on friendly French soil, from which point he could pick a pathway through Abyssinia and down the Nile, with little danger of detection and with the advantage of being able to arouse the enthusiasm of the Soudanese and other tribes through which he passed. I was in favor of running the gantlet of the Strait and landing him two or three hundred miles south of the Gulf of Suez, which would expedite the revolt and also make things more exciting, but the others feared this would expose him too much to the danger of recapture. They were for the surest way and said that more reckless methods could wait until he was at the head of his troops. This conclusion as to the landing place, however, was not final. It was understood that I would receive definite instructions when I put in at Saukin, on the way out, to take on the fifty proud and trusted warriors who were to effect the release of their revered leader.

The fact that consideration of terms was the last question brought up was a delicate compliment to my supposed fairness which I appreciated. Instead of asking them for fifty thousand pounds, as I had intended to, I stipulated only forty thousand, one-half of which was to be advanced to me for the purchase of a suitable ship. The ship was, of course, to be turned over to them at the conclusion of the expedition. I was to pay all expenses and collect the remaining twenty thousand pounds after Arabi had been landed. If they had fixed the terms themselves they could not have agreed to them more readily, and I was asked to return at ten o’clock the next evening for the initial payment.

Our negotiations thus rapidly concluded, I was invited to remain to dinner, which is the crowning honor of Egyptian confidence and hospitality. I needed no urging and never have I enjoyed a meal more. The table-talk was general, but running all through it was the love of freedom and the plan through which they hoped to realize their passion. Their interest in American affairs was only that called for by courtesy, but they made me tell many stories of our wars with England, from which they derived much satisfaction.

“We are as much entitled to our freedom as you are,” declared one of my hosts, whose green turban indicated that he could trace his ancestry back to Mahomet, “and we will win ours in the end, just as your people won theirs. We may be a strange people,” he added, reflectively, “but we are not so bad as we have been painted. The howadji [strangers] condemn our religion without understanding it and preach to us another, which, so far as we can observe from its practices, falls far short of our own. Mohammedanism needs no defence from me, but I will tell you just one thing about it. If you were now to murder my brother I could not lay hands on you or harm you, for you have eaten of my salt, but not even Mahomet could make me cease to hate you in my heart. Does the Christian religion, of which the British are so proud, teach you that?”

I confessed that it didn’t, so far as I had information or belief, and made my sincere salaams to his faith. If I am ever to become afflicted with any religious beliefs, I hope they will be those taught by Mahomet.

When I finally started back to my hotel Ialla and her attendants were waiting for me in the alley, for it was not wide enough to be called a street. They started on ahead, but we had gone only a few short blocks when her four companions walked briskly away and she waited for me, in a shadow so deep that I at first thought she had entered one of the queer houses and my spirits fell, to be revivified a moment later when I almost ran into her.