Under the Rebel's Reign Part 12

Without speculating further he tapped on the shuttered window of the ground floor, and waited. Immediately the voices inside ceased. He tapped again, louder than before. A moment after, the shutter of the window above was cautiously opened, and against the dim light of the sky he saw a head protruded.

The night was so dark he could not make out whether the head was that of a white man or not, but he inclined to the latter belief, and summoning all his best Arabic, he asked for shelter for the night.

"I have money to pay," he added, "but have nowhere to sleep."

There was a grunt as the head was withdrawn and another face appeared in its place. There was no mistaking it this time, it was distinctly white, and when a voice came in English--

"Who are you and what do you want?" Helmar's heart gave an instinctive leap for joy.

"These are queer times," the speaker went on, "and I do not care to do business with every pa.s.sing stranger."

"I am a German," replied Helmar in the same language, "and am a stranger just come to the city from Cairo. I do not know what has happened here, but the town seems to be full of trouble. I must find somewhere to sleep."

The tones of his voice evidently calmed the stranger's fears, for he replied in much milder tones----

"Are you alone?"

"Quite," replied Helmar.

"Very well then, wait a moment," and the head disappeared and he heard footsteps descending the stairs.

The next moment the door was cautiously opened, and the burly figure of a man stood in the dark uninviting pa.s.sage.

"Quick, come in," he said in hurried tones, "there _is_ trouble about, and we don't want more; this house is supposed to be deserted."

George stepped in quickly, and the door was closed behind him. The man bolted and barred it as though the place was in a state of siege.

"Step this way," he said, evidently relieved at having got him safely in and the door secured.

Helmar followed the man to the end of the pa.s.sage, where, flinging open another door, his host ushered him into a well-lighted room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "another guest. I hope there is no objection?"

At the sight of the new-comer several men rose from their seats and looked earnestly at him. The room in which Helmar found himself was part of the bar of one of the many cheap cafes of this neighbourhood.

It was filled by a number of men and women of all nationalities, seated at various small tables scattered round the room. The room itself was innocent of all attempts at decoration; the walls showed its dirty plaster, the rough floor was sanded, and the worn and cheerless tables and benches were polished with the dirt of ages.

The atmosphere reeked with the smell of tobacco and coffee, and, as he stepped in, bowing to the a.s.sembled company, Helmar could not help feeling a strong desire to open a window.

After their scrutiny, the occupants, one by one, resumed their seats, and George felt that they were mutely asking him for an explanation. As fugitives they were naturally suspicious of strangers, and he was about to speak, when he saw a slight figure step from an obscure corner.

In a moment his eyes glistened, and an exclamation rose to his lips as he almost jumped forward and grasped the hand of his old chum Osterberg.

CHAPTER X

THE MEETING OF FRIENDS

George was simply thunderstruck. It seemed almost miraculous that he should meet his bosom friend in such a place and under such circ.u.mstances. The two stared at each other in perfect astonishment for some moments, still clasping hands.

"Well, of all the wonders," George exclaimed, after they had expressed sufficient surprise and finished their greetings, "who would have expected this? But why are you here, and why all this mystery?"

"But surely you know, George! You know what has happened?" said Osterberg.

"I know nothing more than that Arabi is leading a rebellion against the Khedive's rule, with the object of deposing him, and that Cairo is becoming impossible to residents in consequence. I suppose Alexandria, from the look of the streets I came through, is in even a worse plight. But tell me about it."

"That's putting it mildly. We've had one of the most inhuman riots here imaginable. The Seditionists have been pillaging the town and ma.s.sacring all Europeans who came in their way. I only came here a week ago, and now, like all the occupants of this house, am hiding, waiting for an opportunity to get away in safety. It's frightful, it's terrible. Heaven only knows how many people have been ma.s.sacred."

"I didn't know it was as bad as that. You must have all been terror-stricken," replied George. "But let us come and have a quiet talk. How marvellous I should have chosen this place above all others to seek refuge in!"

The two young men sat and talked in the background, Helmar first giving an account of all that had happened to him, which was punctuated with exclamations of surprise from Osterberg as George recounted his adventures.

Osterberg, after parting with his friend at Constantinople, obtained work in the bank and gave great satisfaction to his employer. One day the latter called him in and told him there was a vacancy in the branch at Alexandria, and offered it to Osterberg. He accepted with alacrity and arrived in the town but a few days before the riots took place.

"And here I am taking refuge like the others, with the proprietor of this cafe," he wound up. "Not quite so eventful a time as yours, George, is it?"

"And what are we going to do now? Do you think we are safe for any length of time? Surely they must attack us in due course?" said George.

"I think we shall be unmolested for a while," replied Osterberg.

"The place was visited early by the rabble soldiery and they took all that was worth taking, so now I don't suppose they will bother us."

That night was one of the worst Helmar had ever experienced; the only beds that could be scrambled together were used by the women-folk, and the men slept on the floor, benches, and tables.

Fortunately blankets were not needed, as the heat was intense, but the benches were rickety and the sand on the floor worked into the sleepers' clothes. Altogether the plight of the refugees was miserable.

Helmar was unfeignedly delighted to meet his friend once more, and this compensated largely for the woeful condition in which he found himself. Osterberg, as he said, had now endured it for three days and so didn't mind the imprisonment; but with George it was different, and he had yet to get used to it.

The next two days were pa.s.sed in this miserable captivity. Helmar chafed at the confinement, but was forced to put up with it. He often thought of leaving and trusting to good luck in the outside world, but Osterberg was always at his side, ready to point out the madness of such a proceeding.

At last the welcome news came that Arabi, probably tired of his soldiers' wanton slaughter, had issued a proclamation that every European must leave the city within a certain time or abide by the consequences.

This was news indeed, and the whites flocked in hundreds to the s.h.i.+ps in the harbour. So great was the crush that Helmar and Osterberg were only just able to secure a pa.s.sage in the last one to leave. They determined to go to Port Said and there apply to the British authorities for a.s.sistance. What they were to do after that, fate should decide; both able-bodied men, they had no doubt that they could make themselves useful. Helmar's idea, now that he could speak a little Arabic, was to try to become an interpreter.

It was a dreary journey to Port Said, but they reached it in safety and proceeded immediately to the British Consul. Helmar was to be spokesman and explain the object of their visit. After some delay, they were told an interview would be granted in about half-an-hour's time. Leaving the office, they strolled about in order to kill time.

"We _are_ in luck," said George, as they walked arm-in-arm. "I wonder what will happen."

"Being Germans, possibly we shall be sent about our business," said Osterberg, "and after all, it's only to be expected."

"I don't think so," replied his friend; "you don't know these people. I'll bet something will be done for us."

At this moment he caught sight, through the window, of a man dressed in European clothes crossing the square. The figure was so familiar that he paused and looked again.

"By Jove! If I'm not very much mistaken, that's our old friend the doctor we met on the boat going to Constantinople!"

Osterberg looked across at the man approaching.

"You are right. It is he," he exclaimed, and they both made straight for the doctor.