He ought to have given an immediate alarm, but terror rendered him irresolute, and before he had time to act, it was too late to arouse his fellow-passengers.
Clambering up the bow were half a score of naked Arabs, their knives held between their glistening teeth, their dark eyes roaming fiercely around.
Tadros’ first impulse was to fight; but just as he was about to rise to his feet a man whom he knew bounded aft and sprang into the little cabin where the women lay asleep.
It was Kāra.
There was no indecision on the part of the dragoman after that. He slipped off the deck into the water with the dexterity of a seal sliding from a rock, and while a succession of terrified screams and angry shouts bombarded his ears, Tadros swam silently across the Nile toward the opposite shore.
The water was cold, and he shivered as he swam; yet the chill was from within rather than from without. There are no crocodiles in the Nile now; but in places there are serpents and sharklike fish that will bite a mouthful of flesh from a swimmer’s leg. Tadros knew of this, but did not think of it just then. Reflected in his mind was Kāra’s dark visage, grim and malignant, and with certain death facing him aboard the dahabeah, the dragoman’s only impulse was to get as far away from the danger as possible.
The turmoil on the boat prevented his escape from being immediately noticed, and after a long swim, that nearly exhausted his strength, he reached the west shore and fell panting upon the hard earth.
Slowly regaining his breath, he strained his ears to catch any sound that might proceed from the dahabeah; but now an oppressive silence reigned on the opposite side of the river. The lights of the steamer gleamed faintly through the night, but the fate of those he had left on board was wrapped in mystery. Perhaps Kāra and his band of assassins would murder all except the girl; it was possible he would murder her as well. Anyway, the dragoman’s connection with the enterprise had come to an abrupt ending.
A mile or so away was the little town of Roda, with its railway station. Tadros started to walk toward it, keeping well back from the edge of the bank so that he might not be discovered in case anyone pursued him.
His dejection and dismay at this sudden reversal of fortune were extreme. He had lost the last vestige of the jaunty bearing that usually distinguished him. With three thousand pounds already earned but irretrievably lost, and the knowledge that Kāra’s merciless enmity would pursue him through life, the dragoman’s condition was indeed deplorable.