CHAPTER XIX
Tracking the German
"What luck! What splendid luck!" whispered Philip, as the trio--himself,Geoff, and Esbul--stumbled along the dark archways and across the roughcourtyards of the city of Bagdad on their way to those hospitablequarters which the Armenian had mentioned; for Geoff had hurriedly toldhim who the man was against whom he had stumbled in the darkness, andhad intimated to his chum that they were on their way to some haven.
"Spl--en--did!" emphasized Philip, muttering the word over and overagain; "food, raiment, and a place in which to sleep safely. Well, itwill be good to lie down and sleep soundly for one night, feeling thatone isn't caged in like a bird, and isn't in immediate danger of arrestand further imprisonment."
"And better still to know that there is something before us," Geoffanswered him as they reached a low doorway leading out of the courtyard,"better, far better, Philip, to hear that Esbul has news of myguardian--news of Douglas Pasha--news so valuable that he won't impartit to me out here, but is waiting until we get into this house and undershelter."
A sharp rap on the door was answered after a while by a gruff request toenter, and presently the three were stumbling up the flight of stepsdown which Esbul had gone when he left Benshi the Jew--that mysterious,silent, and thoughtful friend of Douglas Pasha. In a trice it seemedthey were in the room he occupied, to find the Jew seated on a divan,his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, the same listless unfathomableexpression about his haggard face. And yet that face could showanimation when he wished, could show friendship and welcome.
"Be seated," he told the two subalterns. "Be seated, Keith Pasha, wardof that one who has been my friend for many years, of Douglas Pasha. So,Esbul, it came about that in passing on your way from the house whereyou were watching you hit upon these two, hit upon them by mere chance,by pure accident!"
"But how--how did you learn that then?" asked Geoff impulsively; for itwas but a few minutes ago only that that unexpected meeting had takenplace, and how could the Jew have gained tidings of it? Had he guessedit? Had he merely divined it because of their coming together? Or hadthis mysterious man obtained news of the event in the same mysteriousmanner in which other and more valuable information came to him?
"Be seated, my master," Benshi said, ignoring the question for themoment. "Let Esbul place food before you; and to-morrow he will lead youto that place where Douglas Pasha is imprisoned. Is it not so, Esbul?You who have watched over the German, were you not on your way hither togive me tidings of this von Hildemaller and of his movements on themorrow?"
A glance at the young Armenian proved indeed that that must be thecase, though how Benshi had learned of that also was beyond him.Amazement was written on every feature; he gasped with astonishment, andthen smiled at our hero.
"It is even so," he told him. "Men come and go, but Benshi sits here orin the Bazaar, seeing nothing it would seem, hearing no news, merelyexisting the day through, and yet--and yet, news reaches him."
"Aye! Reaches me, my friend, in a manner that I will not explain; newssometimes small and petty, sometimes of great doings, of great events.Listen now, whilst Esbul brings food before you. My master, you desirenews of your friends, of your expedition which has come to Mesopotamia,which fought its way to Basra and Kurnah, and from thence advanced upthe Tigris to Amara? You desire tidings of those friends whom youaccompanied to Nasiriyeh, and of those others who struck to thenorth-east and seized Ahwaz? Then, I will tell you.
"Amara fell to them as easily as a ripe orange falls to the hands of theplucker. Then came an advance up the river to Kut-el-Amara, while Turkswaited the coming of the British and the Indians in full force, inpositions prepared most carefully for them under the leading ofGermans--men of the same cunning and skill as this von Hildemaller. Yetthey were defeated."
"Defeated!" exclaimed Geoff; "you mean that the Expeditionary Force hascaptured Kut, really?"
"They stormed those positions; they outflanked the Turks," the Jew toldhim, his listless eyes wandering for one moment from the wall oppositeto our hero's face and to Philip's, and then back to the old position."They captured the town of Kut-el-Amara and pursued the fleeing Turks.And then, my masters, they followed----"
"Followed towards Bagdad?" asked Geoff, rising to his feet in hiseagerness. "Followed in this direction? Then they are near already?"
Benshi waved him back to his seat with a listless movement of one hand,and went on with his story.
"Nay," he said, and sighed as if he were sorry that it was not so. "Nay,my master, the force of which we are speaking advanced in small numbersup the River Tigris towards Bagdad, till indeed but within a few leaguesof it, till they reached the old tomb of the Caliph at Ctesiphon, whereonce more the Turks were awaiting them in prepared positions, where,indeed, they had amassed large numbers of soldiers--so much so that theyoutnumbered the British by at least three to one. There was a battlethen in which the Turks suffered heavily and the British also, a battlewhich disclosed to your friends the strength of the enemy before them,and which made a retirement imperative. That was days ago--days ago; andnow they are back, those British and Indian soldiers, back inKut-el-Amara, having carried out an orderly and skilful retreat. Back inKut, where my information tells me that they are surrounded."
He left Philip and Geoff with their mouths wide open with amazement atwhat they heard, their faces showing first delight at the prowess oftheir comrades, and then disappointment at their enforced retreat, and agreater disappointment that they too were not beside them to take theirshare in the fighting.
Yet Benshi did not tell all there was to be told about Asiatic Turkey,all that had to do with the British and other forces. We have intimatedalready in the course of this narrative how a force employed in onequarter of the world, if sufficiently powerful, may well affect thefortunes of other troops engaged in a different area altogether. We toldof how the coming of Turkey into this world-conflict in partnership withGermany and Austria affected the fortunes of Russia on her Europeanfront, because of the need to hold her Caucasian frontier, and there isno need to enter into details of the fighting which took place in thosemountains, almost in perpetual snow, where Turks and Russians faced oneanother. It will suffice if we say that, well-armed, well-equipped, andofficered by Germans in numerous instances, the army corps which Turkeysent to the Caucasus at the commencement of hostilities, that is to say,during the first winter of this widespread warfare, suffered many areverse at the hands of the Tsar's gallant soldiers. They failed toadvance, failed to invade southern Russia, and indeed had their work cutout to prevent the Muscovite armies from invading Asiatic Turkey, andfrom pouring down into the land south of the Caucasus range--land itselfsome six thousand or more feet in elevation.
Indeed, the country south-west of the Caucasus range is broken up byinnumerable ranges of hills and mountains, and presents large numbers ofupland plateaus. It is the country in which the unfortunate race ofArmenians were fostered, where they have dwelt for centuries, and on oneof those upland plateaus, perched in a situation of natural strength,and defended by forts and gun emplacements, cunningly designed byGerman engineers, lies the city and fortress of Erzerum, the main baseof those Turkish armies operating against the Russians--a fortressdeemed impregnable, and one upon which the Turks and their Germanmasters had placed the utmost importance. As that British force wasfighting its way back to Kut-el-Amara, and was besieged in that littletownship on the River Tigris, the Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia, he whohad led the Tsar's armies into Galicia a year previously, was musteringhis forces and preparing his arrangements for a dash into Armenia--adash made in the height of winter, through snow-drifts ten or more feetin depth, and in an atmosphere well below freezing. Such was the impetusof that dash, so good and careful were the preparations for it, and sogreat the courage and the elan of the armies of the Caucasus that, inspite of Turkish resistance, in spite of batteries cunningly placed, inspite of every obstacle, human and natural, the Russians poured downupon the fortress of
Erzerum, and to the amazement of all--of the Turksand of the Germans, not less than of the others, captured it, its guns,and a goodly part of its garrison. Then, flooding over this uplandplateau, carving their way westward and south-east, they rapidly forcedtheir way in the direction of Trebizond--that port on the Black Sea bywhich Turkey had reinforced and revictualled her Caucasian army. To thesouth-east, Russian troops, in smaller numbers, pushed along thefrontier of Persia, striking towards Mesopotamia, until patrols of horseand companies of foot were within measurable distance of Bagdad. Yetthey were not near enough to seize the city, not in sufficient force atpresent to advance across the desert, not able, in fact, to lendassistance to the British force beleaguered in Kut-el-Amara, and to thatother force, since organized, and sent up the River Tigris to relieveit--a force of British and Indians again, which, willing enough andeager to relieve their comrades, had, for weary weeks now, been held upby rains and floods in the country.
A narrative of the incidents of the Mesopotamian operations may betruthfully said to be one of brilliant actions, of most gallant fightingon the part of our soldiers, and of a display of soldierly virtues whichequalled, if it did not surpass, those fine qualities shown by Britishtroops in days gone by. This desert warfare was so different from thatwhich had now fallen upon the armies battling in Flanders against theGermans. There, in the absence of forts constructed of masonry asformerly, there was nevertheless a species of fort running fromSwitzerland north to Verdun, and running in a north-westerly directionto the Belgian coast. A fort consisting of muddy trenches, delved deepin the soil, sheltering hosts of soldiers, and strengthened andsupported in thousands of places by earthworks, by machine-gun redoubts,and supported in rear by an array of guns on either side, the number ofwhich had never been seen before, had never even been nearly equalled inany warfare. But the desert of Mesopotamia gave opportunity for otherfighting. Troops, both British and Turkish, were not sufficientlynumerous to man a line running right across the country, and thus therewas an opportunity to manoeuvre, the chance of outflanking an enemy,and every now and again an opening for a charge, often enoughbrilliantly executed, by the British.
Yet the main line of advance must, because of that desert, of that aridcountry, follow the winding channel of the Tigris River, on which thetroops were dependent for their water-supply. And that river itself wasbounded in numerous places by marsh land, which often enough obstructedthe march of troops, and which, in the neighbourhood of Kut, producedpositions similar, on a very small scale--to those in Flanders and inFrance; that is to say, just as the sea bounds that line to the north inFrance, so marsh land in the neighbourhood of the Tigris Riverobstructed the advance of the British force marching to the relief ofthe beleaguered garrison at Kut-el-Amara. They could not easily getround those marshes, for the need of water held them to the river, andadvancing along its banks they came upon a part where those marshes,coming close together, left but comparatively narrow space through whichthey could make progress, a space deeply trenched by the Turks, andfortified in similar manner to those trenches in France, held by anumerous and well-armed enemy, flanked by redoubts, and supported bymachine-guns and artillery. A position, indeed, of formidable strength,more particularly as to outflank it was impossible, and a frontal attackmust be undertaken. Add to these difficulties atrocious weather--rainswhich poured upon the British force, which drenched the men to the skin,bitterly cold rains, which, stopping at last, left the troops stewing ina watery atmosphere under a blazing sun, wading knee-deep in a muddymarsh which covered the country.
Having thus outlined to some small degree the enormous difficulties ofthe Mesopotamian force and its gallant conduct so far, we can now returnto Geoff and Philip, and ascertain their fortunes after that momentousmeeting with Esbul, the Armenian.
In the feeble rays cast by the guttering candle suspended above the oldJew's head there stood, on that memorable evening when Geoff and hischum reached the city of Bagdad, no more eager individuals, none moreintensely interested in the tale of the prowess of the British forces,than they.
"And so our men have been quite close to this city, have fought theirway nearly to Bagdad?" said Geoff, his face glowing with enthusiasm.
"That is so, Excellency," Benshi admitted, his lips hardly moving, hiswithered frame bent as he squatted, his eyes still wandering over theopposite wall as if seeking for something there; "a gallant forceindeed, who struck boldly, and who struck heavily, against the troops ofthe Sultan. If their own losses were heavy, those of the Turks weretreble perhaps; while the fact that they were forced to retire is not tobe wondered at, does not take from them honour or credit; for thosetroops, handled by German officers, were three, even four, to one ofyour people, while the need for water, the lack of it, in fact, made aretreat--seeing that Bagdad could not be reached--a matter of urgency.But now, Excellency, you have heard of your people. They are back inKut-el-Amara this many a day, besieged there, surrounded, they tell me,holding the enemy at bay, yet too weak to cut a road through them. Maybeyou will join them there, maybe no; and meanwhile you are in this city,in Bagdad, wherein not so long ago I had speech with Douglas Pasha.Listen, then, to the tale Esbul has to tell us. Speak on!" he commanded,turning to the Armenian.
At once all eyes were cast upon the youthful figure of Esbul, nowsquatting on the floor, his face almost as impassive, almost asinscrutable, as that of Benshi, yet his fingers working, his lipscompressed, and sometimes twitching--indications of the excitement underwhich he was labouring.
"Then hear, Master," he began, "hear my tale. This von Hildemaller, thishuge German with the pleasant countenance----"
"Ah!"
Benshi gave vent to a grunt, a grunt which might have expressed disgust,appreciation, pleasure, anything, in fact, for his features did notrelax, they displayed no sign of his feelings.
"With the pleasant countenance, my master; he who has deceived so manyof us, who carries on the surface smiles which fascinate, which hide thecrafty, cunning, cruel mind behind it. Early in the morning he came tothis city, passing by silent ways to his quarters, endeavouring to evadenotice. Yet Benshi saw him, while I have since been to those quarters,have clambered about them, have listened, and now know something of hismovements."
"Ah!" it was Geoff's turn to give vent to a grunt of anticipation. "Hismovements! Yes," he said eagerly, "they are?"
"Indefinite!" Esbul replied. "Indefinite at present, my master; but sodefinite, so promising, that it may well be that you will think fit totake note of them. He is preparing for a journey outside the city.To-morrow, as the dusk comes, a conveyance will await him on the roadbeyond the gates west of Bagdad, and men also--but three of them--Igathered."
"Hold! Three men you said," Philip blurted out. "Turks, Armenians, orwhat? All cut-throats, I guess, in any case."
For a moment Esbul looked puzzled, for though he could speak Englishwith some fluency the term "cut-throats" was a little foreign to him.But Geoff hurriedly explained, whereat the Armenian nodded his heademphatically.
"Murderers, yes!" he said. "One of them the same who drove him into thiscity, the one who was to have carried out the murder of Douglas Pasha."
"And they assemble, where?" asked Geoff, while the two subalternsexchanged swift glances, as though indeed the same thought had occurredto both of them.
"As I have said, my master, they assemble with this carriage outside thewestern gate of the city, where the German joins them as dusk isfalling."
"And then?" asked Geoff.
"And then, who knows, my master?" said Esbul. "Those who follow theGerman and his escort may learn, for though I have striven to gathernews of their destination I have failed completely. But this I know, ithas to do with Douglas Pasha."
As a matter of fact, the crafty Esbul had been even more successful thanhe had anticipated, than he could have hoped, considering thedifficulties of the situation. Having clambered over the walls of thecompound which surrounded the quarters in which the German usuallylived, and to which he had ret
urned after that visit to the prison inwhich Geoff and Philip had been incarcerated, Esbul, as we have learnedalready, had found not a light, not an illuminated chink, not a sound,nothing to guide him as to whether von Hildemaller were there or not, orwhether he had merely come back to go out again promptly. Yet Esbul wasa knowing fellow, and gifted with an abundance of patience. Passinground the house, he reached a point where a wall enclosed a small yardwithin it, and, clambering on this, was able to reach the roof--a flataffair, on which the owner could rest and sleep, if need be, in the hotweather. Still, there was no sign of the German, not a sound to betrayhis presence. Esbul crept about the place, peeped over the parapet, laidhis ear on the roof, and yet was baffled. Then, by a lucky chance, hewent to the only chimney of which the place boasted, and, peering downit, saw a light far below, and heard voices. More than that, he foundsoon enough, or rather guessed, that this chimney was merely aventilator for some chamber in which people were talking, in which vonHildemaller, without doubt, was seated. More startling still was thediscovery that sounds were accentuated by the chimney, were gatheredtogether as it were, and were delivered to his ear louder, perhaps, thanwhen uttered by those far below him. In that way, then, by a mere strokeof luck, by a fortunate chance, more fortunate perhaps than hisaccidental meeting with Geoff and Philip that night, the Armenian hadunearthed the secrets of the German.
There was silence in the tiny room beneath the guttering candle for somefew minutes, while two busy brains were hard at work piecing up theinformation given them, concocting plans, and seeking for measures tooutwit von Hildemaller. Two busy brains, we have said, though no doubtEsbul's wits were sharpened. As for Benshi, he still sat on his divan,his eyes wandering over the opposite wall, his face--long, thin,ascetic, and angular--with not an expression on it. He might have been awooden figure for all they knew, a silent, thoughtless figure. And yetthe old man had already given indications of possessing unusual wisdomand acumen--of possessing, indeed, uncanny powers of looking into thefuture. It was he, in fact, who first broke that silence, and who, inthe most amazing manner, seemed to have divined the very thoughts ofGeoff and Philip.
He actually gave vent to a feeble chuckle, looked up suddenly at thespluttering candle, and then across at the two disguised subalterns.Indeed, he treated them to quite a long inspection--something strangelyrare in the case of the Jew--an inspection which took in every feature,their dusty, dishevelled appearance, their borrowed clothes, and thetransformation they had made with them.
"It is well, it is well, my masters!" he said at last, and his voice waspositively cheerful. "It is well, this scheme of yours, this plan thatyou have been formulating. Listen, Esbul! To-morrow evening, as the duskfalls, a conveyance will be waiting outside the western gate of thiscity for the German known as von Hildemaller. This German hound willstride through the streets of the city, will push his way past thesentries, will browbeat any who may dare to stand before him, and willplump himself in this conveyance. Then he will be driven off, driven toa destination which I do not know, which I have sought for months past,driven, you tell us--and I can easily believe it--to the prison whichholds my old friend Douglas Pasha. And then, my masters, let us takecloser heed of the three who accompany this ruffian--of the one whodrives the conveyance, and of those other two who, mounted on animals,ride beside it. Let me whisper a secret to you, a secret undreamt by theGerman, unsuspected by him, a secret which must be kept relentlesslyfrom this German. That man who drives the vehicle is not the rascalready to cut a throat for but a small reward, eager to slay even hisbest friend so that he may claim the gold of the German; no, my masters,it is Esbul, this Armenian youth who owes almost as much to DouglasPasha as I do."
Geoff glanced swiftly across at the Armenian, and noticed, withsomething akin to amazement, that Esbul showed no sign of astonishmentat the words he had heard, seemed, indeed, to have known the part he wasto take even before Benshi had spoken, seemed to know it, in fact, justas well as he, Geoff, knew it, and doubtless as well as Philip also. Thething was positively uncanny, yet so simple, so calmly put before him,that he could hardly wonder--though when he pondered later it made himexclaim, as he realized how successful the Jew had been at divining hisown thoughts and feelings.
"It is so, Benshi. I shall be on that conveyance," said Esbul, when afew moments had passed; "and beside me will be those two mounted menescorting the German."
"And they, Esbul, can you guess who they will be?" asked Philip, Geoffin the meanwhile having hurriedly interpreted Benshi's words to him.
"I can, my master. The one will be Keith Pasha, the other yourself. Thething must be done swiftly and quietly, done now, for here is anopportunity to outwit the German, the only opportunity, perhaps, whichwill come our way."
That such a plan might easily undermine any which the German had made,and outwit him and utterly fog him, seemed possible enough, though therewere other matters to be considered. Supposing Geoff and his friendswere able to take the place of those three men, as seemed already tohave been decided, there would be the journey with the German in theircompany to some destination unknown; then what then? Would there followa meeting with Douglas Pasha? Or could it be that Esbul had beenmistaken, and von Hildemaller about to journey on some other businessaltogether? Yet it was a chance worth taking, an opportunity in athousand, one which demanded instant action.
Long into the night they sat in that room, with Benshi motionless beforethem, interjecting a word now and again, giving them advice, foretellingmovements in the most uncanny and inscrutable manner. Then, wearied withtheir discussion, tired out after their long journey, Geoff and hisfriend lay down to sleep, and doubtless the Jew and Esbul retired also,though the two young subalterns were ignorant of the fact, for hardlyhad their heads touched the flooring when they were fast asleep andsnoring.
The following day, however, found them alert and brisk and eager to bemoving. Having eaten their full, and donned the clothing which Esbulbrought for them--for a visit to the Bazaar had easily procured suitableraiment--the three young men passed out into the open street andwandered slowly in the direction of the house occupied by vonHildemaller. Stationing themselves at different points of vantage, theywaited with what patience they could summon, and watched carefully forsigns of the German and his followers. And when some hours had passed,and their patience was almost exhausted--when, indeed, in the case ofPhilip, that excellent young fellow was positively stamping withvexation--Geoff sent along a whistle--the signal agreed upon--and wasobserved a moment later to be following three men, who had appeared, itseemed, from nowhere, in the street, and were wending their way alongit. In the wake of Geoff came another figure, slimmer than he--thefigure of Esbul, dressed as a Bazaar porter, carrying a box on his head,slowly making his way over the cobbles, and behind him Philip fell inpromptly, looking just as much a ruffian as Esbul, and as if he werefollowing with a view of assisting him with his burden. In that order,showing no haste, keeping a considerable distance between themselves andthe men who had issued from the German's house, Geoff and his comrademade their way through the heart of Bagdad, down cobbled, raggedstreets, through narrow alleys, across courtyards littered with garbage,and so on till they approached the outskirts of the city, those wallswhich had been erected to keep out the barbarians.
It was at that point that the three men in advance halted and lookedcraftily about them; then they suddenly dived through an open archwayand disappeared from view, leaving Geoff and his friends a littlestaggered.
"Come along," he cried, for Esbul and Philip had by now drawn quiteclose to him. "After them as quick as you can, or we may lose them. Keepclose together, and carry the matter through as we promised."
Dashing along the street, they reached the archway within a few seconds,and, diving into the stone passage to which it gave access, racedthrough it and across a courtyard even dirtier than any they had passedbefore. There was not a soul in sight, not a voice to be heard, and itlooked at first as if they had missed the men they were follow
ing. ThenGeoff pointed to a doorway, held his hand up for silence for just half aminute, and later, without a word, turned and threw himself at theaperture.
CHAPTER XX
Success at Last
Dusk was falling over the city of Bagdad, that ancient city situatedastride the River Tigris, which, if it could tell tales at all, couldtell of ancient peoples, of past history of surpassing interest, ofdeeds and doings which would enthral all people. How many thousands oftimes must dusk have settled upon this ancient spot, and clad the gildedroofs of minarets and towers just as it was doing on this evening. Howoften, too, must figures precisely similar to those which now wendedtheir way through its narrow and tortuous streets have passed over,perhaps, even the very same cobbles, hundreds of years before; maybethere was no difference even in their dress, in the raiment of thosepeople of former days and in that donned now by the inhabitants of thecity. Certainly no three less conspicuous people ever passed down themain street which runs towards the Western Gate than those three whoemerged from the narrow courtyard into which Geoff and his comrades haddashed. One was mounted on the driving-seat of that same rickety chaisewhich had conveyed the cunning von Hildemaller to the city; while twoothers, ill-kempt yet well-set-up fellows, were astride stout Turkishponies.
"Who goes?" the sentry at the gates challenged.
"A party, towards the west, in the service of one who is a friend of theGovernor.
"One who is a friend of the Governor. Ho, ho!" the sergeant of the guardanswered flippantly, as if he doubted the words. "Halt, there! Declareyourselves! Who is the high and mighty individual who is a friend of theone who commands our services?"
He stepped rapidly forward, while one of his men, at a signal from him,leapt into the centre of the road where it passed through the gates andbarred the way with his bayonet.
"How now! By Allah; this is a strange saying that you have given us, 'afriend of the Governor?' One who walks in high places and yet employssuch scarecrows? Who are you?"
The sergeant halted beside the driver of the carriage, and at the sametime seized the reins of one of the ponies; then the driver of therickety chaise bent over towards him, looked suspiciously at the sentry,and, bending lower, whispered in the sergeant's ear.
"Fool!" he said; "do you wish to harm even your own Governor? Must youthen make a scene at the very gates of the city and so disclose hispurposes? Listen a moment. Doubtless you have been on guard at this gateon many an occasion, and doubtless, too, you know of men of whom it maybe said with justice that they walk in high places--even in the palaceof the Governor. Then, if that is so, you will know of von Hildemaller."
Instantly the Turkish sergeant looked up at the driver with a startled,if not frightened, expression on his face.
"That man!" he exclaimed, "but surely----"
"S--s--h, no 'buts'," the driver of the chaise murmured in warningtones. "Pass us out without further ado, for it would be ill for you ifI were to report to my master that I was delayed here at the gate, andthat the Governor's purpose was defeated."
"Stand aside there! Pass without. Go on your way, friends, and may Allahbless you!"
In a moment the sergeant's purpose had been entirely altered, themention of the Turkish governor, and of von Hildemaller's name, havingacted like magic, and at once the driver, who had cautioned the man instage whispers, so mysteriously in fact, sat upright, gripped his reinsagain, and whipped up his sorry pony; while those two who straddledtheir ponies beside him dug their heels into their mounts, the threeclattering over the cobbles between the gates, and passing out into thegathering darkness. A quarter of an hour later they pulled up about halfa mile beyond the gates and waited for their passenger.
"Phew!" exclaimed one of the trio, sliding from the rather uncomfortablesaddle of the animal he was riding; "that was a near one as we werecoming through the gates. Of course I couldn't understand a word of whatwas being said, but that sergeant fellow looked nasty. And, Geoff, whata scrimmage!"
"Scrimmage? Oh!"
"Yes, of course. In that yard and in that stable. Glad you downed thatfellow who, Esbul tells us, was the leading ruffian hired by vonHildemaller."
Geoff dropped from his pony at that precise moment, slung the reins overhis arm, and entered into conversation with his companions. He felt verygay-hearted and unusually cheerful, and, moreover, he had enjoyed everybit of that scrimmage to which Philip had referred, and even the sceneat the gate, which at one moment had looked so threatening.
Let us explain that the coming of dusk had provided another adventurefor our hero and his friends, an adventure filled with strenuousmovement--an encounter, in fact, where the numbers were equally divided,and where victory, therefore, was all the more pleasing. Dashing inthrough that aperture which led from the yard into which they had tracedthose three in the pay of von Hildemaller, Geoff had found himself in abig tumble-down stable, in one corner of which a chaise stood, whilethree animals were haltered near it. The three men, who, unsuspicious ofthe fact that they were followed, had entered the place but a fewminutes before, were at that very moment about to throw off the haltersfrom these animals and prepare them for a journey. Then, hearingfootsteps at the door, and seeing figures enter it, they turned, and,realizing at once that the intruders were likely to prove unfriendly,they dashed towards them, one of the men drawing a knife, while thetaller ruffian--he who was von Hildemaller's right-hand man--snatched arevolver from his belt. It was at that precise moment that Geoff dealtthe blow which had delighted Philip. Lunging forward, he struck the manwith his clenched fist, knocking him backwards till the fellow's headcame violently against a beam which supported the roof timbers. Nor wasPhilip behindhand in helping his comrades and in joining in the attack.He had no time in which to select his man or to make specialpreparations; but, leaning forward, he threw himself upon one of them,gripped him in his arms, and wrestled with him. As for Esbul, he wasjust in time to ward off a stroke launched at his heart by the man whohad drawn the knife; quick as thought, he gripped the wrist and arrestedthe blow, and, with equal swiftness, clasped his other hand over thefist which gripped the weapon, and suddenly jerked the man's armbackward. Bump! The elbow struck the wall behind with a nasty jar, andforced the fellow's grip to loosen. What followed was done in a flash,was done with such swiftness that Geoff failed to observe what hadhappened, for Esbul had the knife in his own hand in a moment and hadplunged it to the hilt in the body of the ruffian.
"Now, let's tie this other fellow up," Geoff had said, seeing thatPhilip had firm hold of the man he had tackled; "slip one of the ropesoff this halter, and let's secure him to one of the mangers."
Wiping the blade of the knife he had secured upon the clothing of hisvictim, Esbul calmly stepped across the stable to where the animals werestanding, and returned within two minutes with a length of rope whichwas amply sufficient for their purpose. Indeed, within five minutes, thethird of the German's hirelings was bound hand and foot and tiedsecurely to one of the mangers. Then Geoff bent over the man he hadstruck, and who, meanwhile, had made no movement.
"Dead, Master," Esbul told him, kneeling upon the floor. "The blow youstruck was a strong one, and his head, coming with such violence againstthe wooden beam, was cracked. No longer will he do the bidding of vonHildemaller."
The end of those three whom the two subalterns and the Armenian hadtracked so silently and so skilfully had indeed been as tragic as it wassudden, and the first part of the scheme to outwit the German had endedmost successfully. No time was lost after that, and the animals werehurriedly harnessed and saddled and taken out into the yard.
"You'll drive the chaise," Geoff told Esbul, a note of authority in hisvoice; "and you'll just keep your mouth shut, Philip."
"Right oh!" came from that hopeful.
"Then march! We can leave this fellow who's tied up to the mangerwithout much fear of his creating an alarm. Even if he shouts, I doubtif anyone will hear him; but no doubt he will have his own reasons forkeeping quiet, and for trusting for
release to some chance comer."
Then they had moved away from the yard, had passed down one of thosenarrow winding streets which intersect the city, and had finally gainedthe main street which led to the western gate.
"And now, all we want is our dear friend von Hildemaller," declaredPhilip. "He was to come at dusk, Esbul--that's what you said; you'resure?"
"Certain, Master. If you have any doubts, but think for a moment. Thetale I told was that three hirelings were to await the German outsidethe western gate of the city, one driving a rickety chaise and twomounted. Then consider for an instant: we who went out to track thesemen, who watched outside von Hildemaller's quarters, saw three menemerge, followed three men, tracked them to the west of this city,tracked them, indeed, into a stable where a chaise was waiting and threehorses. Is not that, then, proof sufficient of the truth of the tale Ihave told? Does it not lead one to feel sure that the rest of the planwill follow?"
"S--s--h, shut up! Get into your place, Esbul. Climb on to your pony,Philip; and don't forget--not a word. I can hear someone coming."
They had drawn up the chaise just beside the road, and were standing onthe soft ground which bordered it. The road itself was so covered indust that there, too, steps were hardly audible; yet the heavy tread ofa man approaching now reached their ears, and a little later the deepbreathing of one using much exertion. Then, when a few minutes hadpassed, a ponderous figure came into view through the gatheringdarkness--a figure which grunted and panted, which could have belongedto no other than the German.
"Ach, it is there!" they heard him say in his own language. "It is well,for I am tired, and this dust and the heat exhaust me."
Coming up to the chaise, he looked swiftly at the figures of the threemen near it and clambered ponderously into it.
"You came direct here without attracting attention, eh?" he askedperemptorily of one of the figures mounted on a pony--of Philip, infact, for the subaltern happened to be nearest. "Come, answer! Youattracted no attention!"
He was speaking in Turkish now--execrable Turkish, with a strongflavour of German accent about it, and yet a language unknown to Philip.What was he to do? Attempt an answer or remain silent? Either mighteasily warn the German that all was not as it should be, and then a wayout of the difficulty occurred to him. Philip opened his mouth as if toanswer von Hildemaller, and immediately bent double over the neck of theanimal he was riding and commenced to cough violently, as if he hadcaught his breath, or as if the cloud of dust which the German's heavyfeet had stirred had almost choked him.
"Bah! Then you answer the question."
The words were shot at the other horseman, and received an instantanswer.
"Master, all is well. We passed through the gate without creatingsuspicion. There is none who knows of our coming."
"Then drive on," commanded the German to the man seated on the box ofthe vehicle; "drive on at once."
"But where, where, Master?"
"Where? Ah, I had forgotten that you were ignorant of the place to whichI am going. Straight on till I give you an order to turn; the place issome ten miles distant."
Never in all the course of their lives would Geoffrey, Keith, and Philipforget that journey--that journey, that slow, tedious journey over therough road leading from the western gate of Bagdad, a journey occupyingperhaps two hours and a half, a period which appeared to their eager,anxious minds like an eternity. They were tingling with excitement, withexpectation, and with impatience. In spite of the many adventuresthrough which they had passed, of the many tight places in which theyhad found themselves, this undoubtedly was the most trying of all theirexperiences; for at any moment the German might discover the ruse, mightfind out that the three who surrounded him were not his hirelings, andmight defeat the efforts made to outwit him. Even his heavy breathing,his lolling head, and the fact that he was dozing, hardly helped tominimize the tension of the situation.
"Ah, a building ahead of us, I think!" Geoff whispered to himself, when,having traversed the main road for some eight miles, and turned to theleft at von Hildemaller's bidding, they had made their way over aside-track which was indescribably rough and trying; "a building aheadof us. Looks like a big fortress; perhaps it's a prison."
He gave vent to a loud cough, so as to awaken the German, and then oncemore fixed his eyes on the dull shape he had seen in the distance. Asfor von Hildemaller, he awoke with a start, and, standing up withdifficulty, and setting the rickety chaise swinging, he too peeredahead, and then, making out that distant shape, uttered a hoarsechuckle.
"The place! We are there, or almost so. Good!" Geoff heard him mutter."Pull up at the main gate," von Hildemaller commanded Esbul. "Now, thatwill do! You will wait here till I come out again, and you will knowwhat to do, for we have already discussed the matter. Wait, though, Iwill repeat my instructions: there will be a man with me, a man who willbe tied hand and foot, a mere log, of no danger to any one of us. Ishall join him in the chaise, and you will drive off immediately. A miledown the road which we have just covered you will halt, for that willbe sufficiently far, and voices, even screams, will not be heard oversuch a distance. You will halt, and then--and then----"
Esbul swung his head round and bent towards the German.
"And then, Master," he whispered, "the matter will be ended as you havealready ordered."
"Good! You understand, then? There's no fear of an error being made, nofear of your becoming chicken-hearted, for we shall be alone--four ofus--with this one man, and he tied hand and foot, remember, tied handand foot," the German repeated, giving vent to a ghastly chuckle. "Nofear of a blow, no fear of his struggling even, no chance of hisbreaking loose. If he screams----Ah, well, you have heard screamsbefore, and they will not unman you. You are ready?"
"Ready, Master," Esbul told him in that soft voice of his. "Ready, andwilling."
Again the chaise rolled and rocked as the German stepped to the side ofit and gained the ground. Waddling towards the prison, he ascended thestone steps which led to the doorway, and banged heavily upon the wall.Perhaps five minutes later, steps were heard within, the door wasopened, and, having parleyed for a while, von Hildemaller entered, andthe door closed instantly.
"Now, round with the chaise, and make ready. Good heavens!" exclaimedGeoff, only at this moment beginning to grasp the sinister designs ofthe German. "Did ever one listen to such a scoundrel? A bound man is tobe brought out to us, we are to halt a mile down the road, a mile downit, Philip, at such a distance that screams may not be heard by thepeople in this prison, the bound man will be so securely fastened thathe cannot even struggle for his life, and there, in cold blood, he is tobe finished. You realize the plan? Its cold-blooded cruelty? You realizethe frightful act that this von Hildemaller contemplates?"
For a few moments there was silence between them, and then a gasp almostof pain from Philip, a gasp of amazement, of horror, and of anger.Usually light-hearted, flippant in fact, his voice now, when he spoke,was grave, was trembling with passion.
"A fellow wouldn't kill a mad dog under such conditions," he saidbitterly, "and yet this von Hildemaller chuckles. What'll you do?"
"Do!" There was an ominous ring about the answer. "Do!" repeated Geoffsternly; "can you ask that question, Philip? Now, listen: you'll cutthis prisoner loose, you'll leave von Hildemaller to me. That'sunderstood?"
"Distinctly."
"Then, silence; at any moment the door may open."
Yet minutes dragged along, slow, tense minutes, during which they waitedfor the reappearance of the German; waited, indeed, until they began tofear lest he would never return, lest he had avoided them; to fear thathe had guessed what was happening, had suspected the three men who hadaccompanied him upon this journey, and was sheltering himself within theprison. So long did he remain, in fact, that Philip at length feltpositive that the cunning Teuton had indeed outwitted them; while Geoff,a prey to all sorts of fears, was positively trembling with excitement.And then, of a sudden, when they had almost given up
hope, when itseemed that all their plans had failed, and that their efforts hadresulted in nothing, steps were heard within the prison--heavysteps--approaching the door, and at length the latter opened. A minutelater more steps reached their ears, the heavy blowing of an individual,his panting in fact, followed by the appearance of von Hildemaller, hisponderous figure almost hidden in the darkness, yet sufficientlyilluminated by the rays from some very distant lamp to leave no doubt ofhis coming.
Doubt indeed! No illumination was needed where this German wasconcerned, for even if his figure were invisible the man's heavybreathing, his ponderous footsteps were sufficient indication of hispresence.
"Good--good--good!" Geoff heard him saying, chuckling in fact. "He istied hand and foot, this fellow. What a thing it is to be a friend ofthe Governor of Bagdad. A friend indeed! He, he! One who can take him bythe elbow, as it were, can whisper things into his ear, and can forcehim to do one's bidding. Bring the man along and throw him into thechaise.
"But--but--wait, go gently, for the vehicle is old and rickety enough.In with him."
Men were struggling down the steps of the prison, four men at least, whocarried a bundle between them, which they bore towards the carriage.Lifting their burden with some difficulty, they pushed it on to theseat, thrust it well to one side, and then retreated hastily, as if theywere ashamed of what they had been doing. A second later, indeed, thedoor of the prison was banged to, those distant rays of light were cutoff, and the German and his three hirelings and the bundle in thecarriage were left alone in the darkness, at liberty at last to departon their journey.
"Good! Better than ever! Things could not have gone more smoothly,"Geoff heard von Hildemaller chuckling again, as he waddled towards thechaise, and, mounting into it, depressed its springs considerably. Hesat himself down with a bump beside the bundle resting there, and gave aperemptory order to the driver: "Move on," he panted; "drive fast, butpull up as we arranged when you have covered the distance. Bah! How thatnote from the Governor cowed the Turk in command of the prison. Whenthis fellow beside me realized what was before him, I saw him squirm; hewould have thrown himself upon me had he been able, and had his guardsnot surrounded him; but he's here--here--beside me, and as helpless as alog, as near his end as ever a man was."
The wretch gave vent to a hideous, wheezy chuckle, a chuckle which madeGeoff's blood boil and his ears tingle as he listened; for by then hewas riding quite close to the chaise, within two feet of that silentbundle, within easy hearing of the German, so near in fact was he that amoment later he heard, rather than saw, the bundle moving, wrigglingupon the seat on which it had been deposited, and heard an instant growlescape the German.
"Ach! So you are alife, are you?" von Hildemaller hissed into the ear ofhis wretched prisoner. "So, Douglas Pasha, I haff you at last, securely,away from interference of the Turks, my prisoner, to do with as I will.Now, listen awhile, for I haff a few sweet words to say to you; and you,Douglas Pasha, haff little time on this earth in which to hear them."
The bundle stirred again, and, bending low, Geoff heard inarticulatesounds coming from it, sounds which suggested that the prisoner wassecurely gagged, and, indeed, was almost fighting for his breath. As hebent, too, he was so near to von Hildemaller that he could almost havetouched the ruffian, and found it a hard task indeed to keep his handsoff him; for by now every drop of blood in Geoff's manly body wasboiling with rage, and he was trembling with eagerness for the moment toarrive when he might release his guardian. And then von Hildemaller'svoice was heard again, subdued and venomous, his words coming in anangry hiss through those extensive lips of his, which had deceived somany people.
"Listen, Douglas Pasha," he began again; "you wonder why I, a German,should hate you so, should track you down, should haff you here besideme and be carrying you away from your prison for one purpose only, thatpurpose to rid the world of you! Well, I will explain. For you,personally, I haff no great objection, except that you are anEnglishman. But you are an obstacle; for years you haff been an obstaclein my path--in the path of Germany. But for you the aims of my Emperorwould haff been prosecuted with far greater success amongst thesepeople, and Germany would haff obtained a greater hold over the Turksand their country. It was you who put a stop to that, who set ourefforts at naught, who balked every move I made, and defeated us onevery side. In those days before the war I did my best to get rid ofyou, and when the war came I again did my best to rid the country of aman who was in every sense an enemy to Germany. Yet again you outwittedme, till a day arrived when I was able to arrange for your capture. Eventhen you were too strong for me, you and your friends; they protectedyou, saved you, and kept you in security until this very moment. Andmeanwhile, having been beaten by you and your friends in every effort, Iwas beaten also by that ward of yours--one Geoffrey Keith--who came tothis country."
The bundle moved again, the rickety, rattling chaise creaked and swayedas the prisoner struggled. A stifled growl came from the bundle, andthen there was silence.
"Yes, Geoffrey Keith and another came to this country--your ward and afriend of his came--and were captured and thrown into prison. Now listenstill further, Douglas Pasha. For the moment you were secure, and I, whohad a grudge against you and aimed at your death, could find no othermeans of injuring you than through these two young fellows. I made plansto get them safely into my hands, when, seeing that they are enemies ofGermany, I should have made an end of them; but they defeated me just asyou had done, defeated me entirely. That left you alone to deal with,till the time arrives when those two are again captured. It is but amatter of two or three days since they broke loose from their prison,and surely within a little while the Turks will haff them, and I tooshall be able to reward them for the trick they haff played upon me.Fear not, Douglas Pasha! For your ward shall come to the same end asyou in a little time. Before the week is passed, perhaps, he may beriding in this chaise, tied into a helpless bundle just as you are,jogging on to his death. You understand? To his death, just as you arejogging now. You understand, Douglas Pasha?"
The voice was raised by then to a shrill shriek, while the German wastrembling with passion--trembling with triumph and with anticipation ofthe moment so closely approaching. Little wonder that Geoff, riding soclose, could hardly remain on his pony, that the perspiration wasdropping from his forehead, and that his breath was coming in littlegasps. Those minutes which passed, as they sauntered along the dustyroad, were a purgatory, were almost insupportable, and wereindescribably long. But at length, having by then driven perhaps a milefrom the prison, Esbul suddenly pulled up his horse, and the whole partycame to a halt at the side of the road, just as the German hadcommanded.
"And now," called von Hildemaller, struggling from the chaise to theroad, "lift the ruffian out, pull the gag out of his mouth, and slit histhroat."
Geoff slid from his pony almost before the chaise had come to a rest,and, dropping his reins, stepped swiftly up beside the German. Esbulclambered from the driving-seat of the carriage and leaned over thebundle which von Hildemaller had secured from the prison, while Philip,himself a prey to tremendous excitement, dismounted, and ran forward.
"Cut the Major loose," Geoff shouted; "you can leave this murderingrascal to me entirely."
There were sounds of scuffling in the darkness, clouds of choking dustarose and smothered every member of the party, while a scream escapedfrom the throat of one of them--a scream of terror. Then silencefollowed, and within a few seconds a sound of a man struggling, heavybreathing, and then a dull thud.
Geoff scrambled into the chaise and sat beside the bundle--nowreleased--and, stretching out one of those strong hands of his, grippedthe hand of Douglas Pasha. Esbul clambered into the driving-seat again,while Philip mounted his pony, and, taking the reins of the other, movedto the back of the carriage.
"Go on!" commanded Geoff huskily; "drive on to the main road, and thentowards Bagdad."
A moment later he had turned towards the prisoner whom they had rescued,still g
ripping his hand, and hurriedly explained matters to him. Themeeting in the carriage was indeed a most dramatic affair, sounexpected, indeed, that Douglas Pasha was at first almost speechless,and then almost hysterical after the trying experience he had passedthrough. As for Esbul, Geoff, and Philip, they were so elated, soexcited, and so delighted at what had happened that they babbled likechildren, and could scarcely speak coherently. Indeed it was the Majorwho regained his self-possession first, and began to cross-examine hisrescuers; and at last he asked a final question:
"This German--this von Hildemaller," he asked; "what happened to him?"
"Yes, what happened to him?" Philip chimed in eagerly, as he clatteredalong beside the carriage.
"Don't ask," replied Geoff, with a curtness which was unusual in him."He's dead. I killed him."
And dead von Hildemaller was. Huddled in a heap in the dust, in themidst of the road behind, at the very spot where he had intended tomurder Douglas Pasha. Retribution had indeed found this odious,scheming, cunning agent of the Kaiser, at the very moment when heimagined that triumph was coming, and who can doubt that thatretribution was earned? For never before was there such a villain.
We have little else to relate with regard to the fortunes of Geoff andhis friends and of Douglas Pasha. Reaching Bagdad at earliest dawn, andcontriving to smuggle themselves into the city, they found safe quarterswith Benshi. Later, they made their way from the city to a neighbouringtribe of Arabs whom the Major knew, and who at once befriended him. Thenby easy stages they crossed the desert towards Kut-el-Amara, hopingthere to join the British expedition.
As for the latter force, the remains of that gallant division underGeneral Townshend, which had so boldly essayed to capture Bagdad, andwhich, having dealt most severely with a Turkish force vastlyoutnumbering it at Ctesiphon, was forced to retreat, it had conductedthat retirement along the River Tigris in the most masterly mannerpossible, and, having gained a sharp bend in the river at the town ofKut, where the Tigris surrounds the town on three sides, it had therebeen forced to halt, and put itself on the defensive. Some sixtythousand Turks surrounded the place, and huge efforts were made to beatdown the resistance of this gallant division; yet it held off allattacks, and forced the Turks finally to sit down and besiege it. Itbecame a question now as to whether the relieving force, which had nowadvanced towards Kut, and which was already indeed within gun-sound ofGeneral Townshend's forces, could break through and bring relief beforethe supplies of the beleaguered army had dwindled. As a matter of fact,persistent rains, the most wretched weather, and the extension of thosemarshes created a position which helped the Turks, and frustrated everyeffort of the relieving force. It drew nearer, but could not come up toKut. It struggled on against overwhelming difficulties, while thestarving band of heroes at Kut still held off the enemy; and then, whenmore rain came, when the marshes swept farther afield and relief seemedfarther off than ever, and food was gone entirely, surrender becameinevitable, and General Townshend and his noble band fell prisoners tothe Turkish enemy.
Yet, one may ask, was the loss of the remains of this gallant divisionall loss to the British and their Allies? and may reply with confidencethat it was not so. For that hazardous approach to Bagdad had held anumerous force of Turkish soldiers, while the resistance of our men atKut had kept the enemy troops from operating in other parts of AsiaticTurkey. Indeed the absence of those sixty thousand Turks round about Kutaided not a little in the operations of the Grand Duke Nicholas, who,having established himself firmly at Erzerum, now launched his armiesinto Northern Turkey, and, sweeping on, captured Trebizond and manyanother base of value to our enemies. Those parties of Russian horsemenwho had been operating on the Persian frontier marched south and eastalmost without interruption, threatening Bagdad and the retreat ofthose sixty thousand Turks mustered in the neighbourhood ofKut-el-Amara. Indeed the noble resistance of General Townshend's forcesmay be said to have helped the Russians wonderfully, and, seeing thatRussia is our ally, that resistance helped Britain also.
Geoff and Philip and Douglas Pasha joined hands at length with thatrelief force which had unfortunately failed to relieve General Townshendand his band of heroes, and, as we write, our two heroes are in harnessonce more and are preparing to fight beside their new comrades right ontowards the heart of Mesopotamia.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN _At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_
* * * * *
STORIES OF WAR
By CAPTAIN BRERETON
"When Captain Brereton has a war subject to handle he always does it well."--=Westminster Gazette.=
=On the Road to Bagdad=: A Story of the British Expeditionary Force inMesopotamia.
=With Our Russian Allies=: A Tale of Cossack Fighting in the EasternCampaign.
=On the Field of Waterloo.=
=With Wellington in Spain=: A Story of the Peninsula.
=A Hero of Sedan=: A Tale of the Franco-Prussian War.
=With Wolseley to Kumasi=: The First Ashanti War.
=At Grips with the Turk=: A Story of the Dardanelles Campaign.
=With Roberts to Candahar=: Third Afghan War.
=A Hero of Lucknow=: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny.
=With Joffre at Verdun=: A Story of the Western Front.
=Under French's Command=: A Story of the Western Front from Neuve Chapelleto Loos.
=With French at the Front=: A Story of the Great European War down to theBattle of the Aisne.
=How Canada was Won=: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec.
=Jones of the 64th.= Battles of Assaye and Laswaree.
=A Soldier of Japan=: A Tale of the Russo-Japanese War.
=With Shield and Assegai=: A Tale of the Zulu War.
=Under the Spangled Banner=: The Spanish-American War.
=In the King's Service=: Cromwell's Invasion of Ireland.
=In the Grip of the Mullah=: Adventure in Somaliland.
=With Rifle and Bayonet=: A Story of the Boer War.
=One of the Fighting Scouts=: Guerrilla Warfare in South Africa.
=The Dragon of Pekin=: A Story of the Boxer Revolt.
=A Gallant Grenadier=: A Story of the Crimean War.
LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, Ltd., 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
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