FOR THE HONOUR OF ENGLAND’S SAKE.
Half an hour later, Georgia stepped out of the great latticed window
on the terrace, and kneeling beside the parapet, rested her arms on
it, and looked away over the desert. There in the distance rose the
walls and towers of Bir-ul-Malikat, Fath-ud-Din’s second fortress,
which crowned the top of a conical hill some four miles from
Bir-ul-Malik. Within those walls old Khadija, the sorceress, bore
rule, and held in her grasp the knowledge which alone could save Sir
Dugald’s life. Lady Haigh’s intuition had been a true one, although
there was no outward change in her husband’s condition. Whether the
sand-storm and the hurried journeyings of the day had brought about a
loss of vitality, or whether they had merely rendered perceptible a
failure which had hitherto been too gradual to be noticed, it was
undeniable that the pulse was less regular, and the action of the
heart more feeble than before. The insidious poison administered by
Fath-ud-Din was sapping Sir Dugald’s life away, and, unless the
mysterious antidote could be obtained, his protracted unconsciousness
would before long pass into death.
“I must see this Khadija,” said Georgia to herself, as her eyes
wandered over the desert, “and find out whether anything will induce
her to sell her secret. I might introduce myself to her as a sister in
the craft--Abd-ur-Rahim and his men would bear me out--and suggest an
interchange of ideas. There must be quite a number of things I could
tell her, and I could set her up with a few medicines. The effects
would be wonderful to her. But then, she might not care for remedies,
and I am certainly not going to put more poisons into her hands. I
fancy that killing is more in her line than curing. What was it that
Rahah told me she said when a girl asked her for a love-philtre? ‘I
shall make no love-philtre but one, and that will be for my Rose of
the World to give her bridegroom on the marriage-night.’ I’m afraid
she would not care about the opportunity of doing kindnesses. She must
be fond of the girl Zeynab--perhaps it might be possible to work upon
her feelings through her. At any rate, I must see her; but how am I to
manage it? Dick would be very angry if I went without telling him, and
yet I am sure he would prevent my going if he knew of it. But I will
go, even if I have to break with Dick about it. To leave Sir Dugald to
die, and make Lady Haigh a widow, when I knew where the remedy was to
be found, just for fear of vexing Dick, would be shameful. I shall be
obliged to oppose him some day, and it is a good thing to do it for
the first time in such an absolutely righteous cause. There can be no
doubt whatever as to my being in the right this time, but I’m sure he
won’t see it. I do wish people would be a little more reasonable!”
She was tapping her stethoscope impatiently against the stones as she
spoke, and it slipped suddenly from her fingers and rolled over the
edge of the parapet. Looking after it, she saw that, instead of
dropping or rolling down into the plain, as she had expected, it had
lodged on a projection in the cliff, not more than twenty feet below
the parapet, where a few tufts of withered-looking grass had found
holding-ground. Still, it was quite beyond her power to reach it.
“How careless of me!” she said, with deep vexation. “My dear old
hospital stethoscope! I wonder whether it could be reached from here?
I think a man with a rope might be able to get it. How much astonished
Dick would be if I asked him to go down for it! I wonder whether he
would go? He would send one of the servants, I should think. It would
be quite easy to let him down and draw him up again. What a convenient
little shelf that is! It would be rather a good place to put the
treaty in, for if they catch Mr Anstruther and find he has not got it,
they may come back and make another search. I wonder whether it would
be safe? I don’t think the cover would show among that grass.”
Leaning over the parapet, she scanned the face of the cliff, and
raised herself to her former position with some disappointment.
“It would be very difficult to drop it just in the right place,” she
went on meditatively; “and, if there was a storm, the rain would be
sure to wash it away. Of course, it might lodge somewhere lower
down--or it might not; and, if it did, we might not be able to get at
it. Why, it looks as though there might be a path right up the cliff
to the shelf! It is quite a series of steps and ledges, and projecting
stones, and tufts of grass. It would need a very cool head to climb
it, and a sure foot too, but I believe it could be done. It might be
very dangerous, for any one could get in and attack us without our
knowing. They could hide among those ruined huts at the foot of the
cliff, and choose a time when none of us were out here. Of course,
they couldn’t very well get up as far as this from the shelf, for the
cliff overhangs just at the top, and there are no projections; but
they might have a rope-ladder with a hook at the top to throw up and
catch in something, or some other way of doing it. It doesn’t feel a
bit safe. I know I shall dream that there are men getting up here all
night; but I won’t be silly and frighten the rest. It’s all nonsense!
No one could climb this last piece of the cliff.”
Notwithstanding the certainty of this assurance, the memory of that
giddy path, probably made in the rainy season by the wild goats,
haunted Georgia, and when bedtime came she stole out again to make
sure that there was no one climbing up it. In the great bare room
behind her, Rahah, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was
contemplating with much satisfaction the arrangements she had devised
for the night. It so happened that among the luggage that had gone
astray was Georgia’s mattress and pillow. This loss Rahah had repaired
by lying in wait for Dick and informing him of it, receiving, as she
had anticipated, an order to carry off his bedding for Miss Keeling’s
benefit. She obeyed promptly, regardless of the wrath of his bearer,
who cursed her audibly whenever he saw her, for the duty of spoiling
the Egyptians was one very congenial to Rahah’s mind. In her view, it
was part of a lady’s-maid’s business to exploit every other human
being with an eye to her mistress’s pleasure or welfare, and if the
Major Sahib was willing to sleep on the floor in order that the doctor
lady should be in comfort, it was not for her to baulk him. Georgia,
of course, knew nothing, and was to know nothing of this little
arrangement; and Rahah sat and yawned, and blinked sleepily at the
lamp, and wished that her mistress would come to bed quickly and not
stay looking down that horrible cliff.
But Georgia, leaning over the parapet and staring down into the
darkness, saw more than the indeterminate outlines of rocks and
sun-dried bushes. Her heart was in her mouth as she peered down the
cliff, for she felt certain that she had seen something moving below,
and that it, whatever it might be, was climbing the hazardous path she
had noticed by daylight. Too much fascinated and horror-stricken to
move, she remained leaning over the edge until Lady Haigh stepped out
of the carved doorway behind her and startled her by speaking
suddenly.
“Oughtn’t you to be coming to bed, Georgie? It is very late, and you
have had an anxious day. What are you looking at down there?”
“Oh, Lady Haigh, there is some one--a man or several men--climbing up
the cliff!” was the gasping answer, as Georgia turned round with a
blanched face.
Lady Haigh pushed her gently aside and looked over as she had done.
“There is something there, certainly,” she whispered; “but it is
almost sure to be only a goat.”
Somewhat reassured, Georgia returned to her post of vantage, and side
by side they watched together the upward progress of the dark body,
until the sound of labouring breath reached them, showing that the
climb must be a severe one.
“It is a man,” said Lady Haigh. “Can they get quite to the top?”
“No, about twenty feet down the cliff begins to slope outwards.”
“Then we won’t alarm the gentlemen just yet. It may be only one of our
own servants trying to discover us, and we don’t want him to fall into
Abd-ur-Rahim’s hands. We shall soon see whether this man’s intentions
are hostile.”
“He has reached the ledge now,” gasped Georgia. “He is resting.”
The mysterious visitor seemed inclined to make no further effort for
the present, for he remained motionless during several anxious
moments; but at last a very low, clear whistling became audible, to
which Lady Haigh and Georgia listened in astonishment and trepidation.
“It must be a signal,” whispered Georgia. “No,” she cried, suddenly,
“I know that tune! It is the ‘Battle of the Boyne,’ and a minute ago
it was ‘Derry Walls.’ Lady Haigh, it’s Mr Anstruther!”
“Is it you, Mr Anstruther?” asked Lady Haigh, in a low voice. The
answer came back promptly.
“It is myself, very much at your service, Lady Haigh, if I could only
get near enough to serve you. Are you all right?”
“Quite safe at present,” returned Georgia; “but we have gone through
some thrilling experiences during the day. How did you find us out?”
“Lost my way in the sand-storm, and wandered round the wrong side of
the hill. I took shelter among those ruins down below, and my horse is
there still. When I ventured out to scout a little, I saw the Mission
taking a prominent part--and I guessed an unwilling one--in a
procession up the hill and into the fortress, so I returned to my
hiding-place and planned doughty deeds. But could you get me up this
last piece of cliff by any means?--for it’s rather exhausting to carry
on a long conversation in a stage-whisper, craning one’s neck upwards
all the while. Besides, I have some of your property about me, Miss
Keeling, which I should be glad to restore to you. By the bye, did you
lose anything about five o’clock this afternoon, when you stood
looking over the edge for such a long time? It was that which enabled
me to locate you so smartly.”
“Yes, I dropped my pet stethoscope, and I shall be extremely grateful
if you can find it. It fell on the ledge where you are sitting. But I
will just go and send Rahah to see whether it is safe to call the rest
to pull you up.”
She returned in a few minutes with her arms full of pieces of rope.
“We can do nothing at present. Rahah reconnoitred through the key-hole
or in some such way, and she says that the gentlemen have got a
‘party.’ Mr Stratford is playing chess with Abd-ur-Rahim, and the
other two are talking to his officers. She is to bring us word at once
when the party breaks up, and in the meantime I have taken all the
ropes from the boxes, and Lady Haigh and I can fasten them together.
The rope will be fearfully knotty, but perhaps that will make it
safer.”
“It will be all the better,” said Fitz, decisively, “for we need not
wait for the other fellows to come and pull me up. If you and Lady
Haigh will fasten the rope round something firm, and pull at it both
together with all your strength to test the knots, you can send me the
end, and I will come up hand over hand if you will help to hoist me
over the parapet.”
The two ladies agreed to this proposition with fear and trembling, and
many hopes that Dick and Stratford would arrive before the
construction of the rope was completed. But they did not come, and the
knots were tied and tested, and the rope fastened with extraordinary
care round the stone pillar which formed the central support of the
carved lattice-work of the window. With many cautions, the other end
was passed down to Fitz, and he came up it in a way which extorted
mingled admiration and terror from the watchers. Helping hands
assisted him over the parapet, and at last he stood safe and sound
upon the terrace.
“Well,” he said, cheerfully, “I shall have to tell the gymnasium
instructor at Whitcliffe Grammar School how useful his teaching has
been when I get home. Without it I might have remained on that ledge
all night, and serenaded you with Orange ditties at a hopeless
distance, Miss Keeling. But I mustn’t forget to restore you your lost
property. There is your stethoscope, and here is your cat.”
Untying the handkerchief he presented to her, and which had been
secured in some complicated way to the buttonholes of his coat,
Georgia released Colleen Bawn, very much rumpled and highly indignant,
from her imprisonment, and deposited her on the ground, soothing her
ruffled feelings and fur by a little friendly stroking.
“I am ashamed to think you should have taken so much trouble about
her, Mr Anstruther. Thank you very, very much, and for finding the
stethoscope too. What do you think of doing now?”
“I should rather like some grub, if there is any going. I haven’t had
anything since breakfast, for I hadn’t the forethought to take meat
lozenges with me, as Stratford did. Biscuits, or something of that
sort that is at hand, and won’t need preparing, for I don’t intend to
stay here, and I don’t want to be caught.”
A frugal meal of biscuits, potted meat, and water, in which Colleen
Bawn claimed a share, was quickly set before Fitz, and when his hunger
was partially satisfied he looked up.
“Lady Haigh, I want you to exert your authority. When I found that you
were all in here, and I was outside, I had some thoughts of making for
the frontier at once and fetching help; but then I hit on another
plan. I want Miss Keeling to come too. My horse has been resting ever
since the storm, and is perfectly fresh, and she could ride him
splendidly if we changed the saddle. I could walk all right, and we
should be a good way towards Fort Rahmat-Ullah in the morning.”
Lady Haigh sat down upon the parapet and burst into stifled but
irrepressible laughter, which failed, however, to disconcert Fitz.
“My dear boy,” she gasped, while he looked at her resolutely and
without a smile, “it is quite untrue to say that the age of
chivalry--of the wildest knight-errantry--is gone. Can you really
think it possible that we should allow Miss Keeling to go wandering
off like Una, with you as a protector instead of the lion? Why, it is
fully three days’ journey to the frontier from here, and there are
enemies all the way.”
“I would take care of her, really. I would die before any harm should
happen to her.”
“I haven’t a doubt of that, but you forget that when you were once
dead, the situation would be rather serious for Miss Keeling. And how
do you imagine that Major North would receive your proposal?” and Lady
Haigh collapsed again helplessly.
“But, Lady Haigh,” said Georgia, quickly, afraid that Fitz’s feelings
might be hurt, “Mr Anstruther might take the treaty with him, if he is
going to ride to Fort Rahmat-Ullah. Mr Stratford told us this morning
that Abd-ur-Rahim and the rest think he is already on the way there
with it, and it would be splendid to get it into a place of safety.”
“Come, that is worth thinking about!” said Lady Haigh. But, after a
moment’s consideration, she shook her head decidedly. “No, Georgie, it
won’t do. Sir Dugald would never have trusted any one so young with
the treaty, and I am sure Mr Stratford won’t.”
“Oh, really now, Lady Haigh,” said Fitz, much wounded, “I have my
compass, and I can find my way about as well as most people. There’s
my horse as fresh as he can be, and I would simply ride night and day
until I got to the Fort.”
“Or until your horse dropped dead in the desert, and left you stranded
with the treaty,” said Lady Haigh. “No, Mr Anstruther, you are not at
all the man for such an enterprise. It needs prudence and caution even
more than reckless riding and dare-devil bravery. Georgie,” she turned
to her impatiently, “don’t you see what I mean? There is only one
person here to whom the treaty could be intrusted with any hope of
saving it and us, and that is Major North.”
“Dick!” gasped Georgia, catching at the lattice to steady herself. “Oh
no, Lady Haigh, you can’t mean that! Why should Dick go?”
“Because he is the only man who could possibly carry the thing
through; and he is a soldier, and it is his duty,” responded Lady
Haigh, tersely.
“Don’t be afraid, Miss Keeling,” said Fitz, with an aggressive
indifference to Lady Haigh’s line of argument. “North is not going to
take my job away from me, and ride off upon my gee--not if I know it!”
“Here are Mr Stratford and Major North,” said Lady Haigh, as,
conducted by Rahah, they emerged from the lattice, and explained that
Abd-ur-Rahim and his subordinates had only just departed, finding
their prisoners oppressed with unconquerable fatigue. The moment they
were left alone, Rahah had delivered her message, and they waited only
to place Kustendjian on guard in case of the return of Abd-ur-Rahim,
and followed her guidance. Georgia watched them helplessly as they
congratulated Fitz on his safety, and examined the rope, and peered
down into the gulf below. She remained leaning against the pillar,
unable to quit its friendly support, even when the murmur of low
voices told her that Lady Haigh was repeating her former suggestion.
“I call it beastly unfair, the way I am done out of everything!” she
heard Fitz grumble at last. “When you had that jolly row in the
Mission courtyard round the flagstaff, I had to stay in and guard the
house, and that other time when I wanted to go to the Palace you
wouldn’t let me. And now you mean to keep me here, while North uses my
horse and my way out of this place, though I’m the only one of you
that didn’t manage to get shut up here.”
“And you managed that by desertion and disobedience to orders,” said
Stratford, impatiently, for he had succeeded by this time in
extracting from Ismail Bakhsh the particulars of Fitz’s mysterious
disappearance. “Try not to be more of a fool than you can help, young
Anstruther. We can’t risk the honour of the country and the fate of
the Mission on the hope that you may chance to act sensibly for once.”
“I say that it is my right to go, Mr Stratford,” returned Fitz,
doggedly; but Dick broke through the group, and came to Georgia.
“Shall I go, Georgie?”
“Oh, Dick, must I decide for you?”
“You have a right to do it, I think. At any rate, right or no right, I
am not going if you ask me not to. I put myself in your hands,
Georgie, and the treaty and everything else may slide if you tell me
to stay here. What good would it all be to me if--if anything happened
to you while I was gone?”
He spoke hoarsely, his words tumbling over one another, and Georgia
felt that the hands which clasped hers were hot and shaking. She
looked at him in amazement which was almost terror. Was it possible
that in some ways she was stronger than he was--that he was
confessedly looking to her for the strength which should enable him to
tear himself away from her?
“It is an awfully risky thing, Miss Keeling,” said Stratford,
interposing with an honest determination to let Georgia know the worst
before she made her decision. “He takes his life in his hand if he
goes. I am sure no one could wonder at your keeping him back. In fact,
under the circumstances, I should think it quite probable that no one
would expect him to leave you here and ride off to Rahmat-Ullah to
save the treaty.”
“If I were not here,” said Georgia, “would you think it right for him
to go?”
“Well, things would be different then, you see--and really this is
such an important business----”
“Why?”
“We are tolerably safe, I suppose, in any case; but to get back
without the treaty would be rather a bad blow for our prestige, of
course. All the old troubles would begin again, and England would
become a laughing-stock----”
“I see,” said Georgia. “Dick, you must go.”
“All right,” said Dick, gruffly, restored to composure by the decision
with which she spoke; “but why?”
“For England’s sake--for honour’s sake,” she replied. Dick looked at
her in some alarm. Had the greatness of the crisis, which for the
moment had unmanned himself, turned her brain, or could she really
find comfort in fine language at such a time? He did not know the
sustaining power which is contained for a woman in a phrase of the
kind. It gives her something to lean upon, as she repeats it to
herself with a determination to be worthy of it.
“You are sure you don’t mind, Georgie?” he asked in his blundering
way.
“Oh no; I am not likely to mind, am I?” she said, with a sudden
fierceness in her voice. “Do you want to break my heart, Dick?”
A sob broke from her lips, but she choked it down as he put his arm
round her, and he only felt her hands fondling his rough coat-sleeve.
“If you do that, I _can’t_ go,” he muttered.
“Then I won’t,” said Georgia, with an effort; but she held his arm
tightly as he returned to the rest.
“We may as well get things settled,” he said. “Where is this horse of
yours, Anstruther?”
Fitz explained the position of the ruined hut in which he had left his
horse tied up, while Stratford tested the rope.
“I say,” he said, “we must add some more to this. It won’t take you
half-way down, and you will want something to hold on to while you are
feeling for a foothold. You had better have the end fastened round
you, for though the moon isn’t bad, you might easily slip, since you
have not seen the cliff by daylight. I will hunt up Ismail Bakhsh, as
he has charge of the baggage-ropes, and it might be a good thing if he
was to lend you a turban and cloak. They would pass muster at a
distance, but it is hopeless to think of disguising you satisfactorily
if you meet any one at close quarters, for there are no hillmen about
here. You will want food and water, too.”
He hurried away, returning with Ismail Bakhsh just as Georgia was
fishing the treaty out of its place of concealment. It was none the
worse for its immersion, and she wrapped it in another cover and sewed
it into Dick’s coat.
“It was an excellent idea, that hiding-place,” said Stratford, as she
and Dick rejoined the rest. “I couldn’t imagine what in the world you
had done with the thing, unless you had tied a string to it and hung
it out of the window. Look here, North, you had better not take your
sword. It will only make a clatter, and won’t do you much good. Take
the dagger the mutineers bequeathed to you instead; it is nearly long
enough for a sword.”
“Take care of this for me then, Georgie,” said Dick, unbuckling the
sword he had just fastened on, and Georgia received the charge with
gratitude, for she knew that Dick’s sword was his most cherished
possession. The work of lengthening the rope was going on rapidly, the
provisions for the three days’ ride, a little bread and dried fruit, a
little corn for the horse, and a scanty supply of water, were fastened
round Dick’s waist for the descent of the cliff, and the turban and
the mantle were arranged by Ismail Bakhsh. All was ready. Dick shook
hands with the rest, and turned to Georgia as she stood white and
tearless beside the parapet.
“Georgie, if you tell me not to go, I’ll stay now,” he whispered, as
he saw her face.
“No, Dick, go--for honour’s sake”--and she repeated mechanically the
words which had been burning themselves into her brain during the last
half-hour--
“‘I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.’
Go, dear,” she said again, and took his face between her hands and
kissed him on the forehead.
“It’s women like you that make men heroes in spite of themselves,”
broke out Dick. “Oh, Georgie, I was a brute to you this morning--about
that cat of yours. Say you forgive me.”
“Dick!” she almost laughed. “As though I could remember such a thing
as that now! Good-bye, my dearest, and God go with you.”
“God keep you, my darling!” He held her in his arms for a moment
longer, then released her with a last kiss. “Take care of her,” he
said to the rest, as he stepped up on the parapet, and let himself
down by the rope. They lowered him carefully to the ledge, and from
thence, with the rope still round his waist, he made his way down the
precarious path to the foot of the cliff. Presently the strain on the
rope ceased. Those above drew it up, and listening intently, fancied
they could hear the sound of a horse’s hoofs as it was led cautiously
over the fallen rocks into the open plain, but the shadows were too
confusing to allow them to distinguish anything by the sense of sight.
They listened anxiously for any alarm from the walls which might
indicate that some sentry had been more successful, but none came, and
they returned slowly to their several quarters, Fitz taking possession
of the room which had been assigned to Dick. As for Georgia, she
kissed the sword-hilt on which her lover’s fingers had so often
rested, and allowed her tears to have free course, now that he was no
longer at hand for his heart to be troubled by them.
Very early the next morning, before any of Abd-ur-Rahim’s dependants
were about, Stratford, Fitz, and Ismail Bakhsh might have been seen
hard at work by the light of a smoky lamp. They were taking the long
rope to pieces, or, in other words, restoring its component parts to
their original form as box cords, and returning them to the places
where they might reasonably be expected to be found under ordinary
circumstances. When Rahah had been intrusted with the fragments out of
which Lady Haigh and Georgia had formed their first rope, and Ismail
Bakhsh had carried away the rest to put them back with the luggage of
which he had charge, the prisoners breathed more freely, and Stratford
took advantage of the momentary pause to arrange plans for the day.
“Look here, Anstruther--we must keep it dark as long as possible that
North is gone and that you are here in his place. It strikes me that
the fellows who were looking for you yesterday all went too far
afield, and that’s how they missed you. To-day they will argue that
they had better look at home first, and they will set to work to
search the ruins down below, and the rocks near the spot where we
halted, and any caves there may be in the neighbourhood. I don’t know
what sort of trackers they are here, but if they are anything like so
good as the natives in India, they will find out in no time that the
ruins were occupied until last night, and that a man on horseback left
them and took a certain course. They may even be able to discover our
way up and down the cliff by means of your footprints and North’s.
Still, it will all take a certain amount of time, and every hour of
delay is so much gain for North. On the other hand, if they don’t
happen to light upon his trail, and we keep you well out of sight,
they may waste the whole day in an exhaustive search of the desert
just round here, which would be nuts for us. You must pretend to be
seedy, and stay in your room. If you don’t show up, perhaps they won’t
find out the state of affairs for a day or two.”
“Beastly dull for me!” grumbled Fitz; but he yielded to the
inevitable, and returned to his room, resolved to make up for the
fatigues of the night by a few hours’ additional sleep. Indeed, the
whole party slept late that morning, and when Abd-ur-Rahim came in to
inquire after the health of his prisoners, he found only Stratford
prepared to receive him. This was fortunate, in that it postponed the
danger of discovery, and Stratford gladly accepted the old man’s offer
of a ride round the city in his company, as tending still further to
avert suspicion. By one means or another, the whole of the day was
tided over successfully, and the spirits of the captives began to
rise. The next day, however, a new difficulty confronted them, in the
shape of a deputation from the mutinous cavalry escort, who had found
their way to Bir-ul-Malik, and demanded an interview with their hero
Dick. In vain were they assured that he could not and would not see
them. They expressed their readiness to await his convenience for any
length of time; and Stratford guessed that, fearing they had made
their native land too hot to hold them, they entertained the design of
crossing the frontier under Dick’s leadership, taking their women and
children with them, and transferring their allegiance to Her Most
Gracious Majesty, as a preliminary to enlisting in the Khemistan
Horse. It was a distinct relief to Stratford, when he considered the
spirit in which Dick would probably have received this precious offer
of service, to remember that he was not in the place; but it was a
very embarrassing thing to have these men continually waiting and
watching for an opportunity of seeing him. They were not interfered
with in any way by Abd-ur-Rahim and his men--a fact which confirmed
Stratford’s conviction that it had been arranged with them beforehand
by Fath-ud-Din’s emissaries that they were to mutiny and desert when
they did, and that their indignation respecting the misappropriated
_bakhshish_ was only part of a deep-laid plot.
For some two or three hours the deputation sat waiting patiently
outside the quarters allotted to the prisoners, while ambassadors went
to them at intervals to represent the uselessness of their remaining,
and to advise them to withdraw. Then fortune favoured them, and they
stole a march on Stratford. He had gone into the inner rooms to speak
to the ladies, while Kustendjian was busy in his own quarters, and the
deputation grasped their opportunity, and, after surprising and
binding the man on guard at the door, walked in. Dick’s bearer was the
only person who saw them enter, and he seized the moment, while they
were admiring Stratford’s toilet arrangements, in the first room they
reached, to rush to his master’s quarters and throw a sheet over Fitz,
who was lying on the bedstead, very hot and discontented, in his shirt
and trousers. There was just time for him to turn his face to the wall
and for the man to arrange the sheet over his head in the manner of
the natives when they sleep, before the deputation entered. A murmur
of delight broke from them when they saw the shrouded figure, and they
sat down in a semicircle on the floor, to wait until their desired
leader should awake, all with their eyes fixed on the sheet, beneath
which Fitz lay writhing in agonies of laughter. In vain did the bearer
attempt to dislodge them by threats of his master’s anger when he
awoke, in vain prophesy that their presence would do him harm; they
simply reiterated their determination to see the General Dīk. At
last, between laughter and the sheet, Fitz could bear no more; and,
almost suffocated with heat, he threw out an arm and pushed the
covering partially aside. A murmur of astonishment showed him at once
that he had done more than he intended.
“But the General Dīk has light hair, and this man’s is black!” were
the words he heard, and the leader of the party added
authoritatively--“That is not the arm of the General Dīk!”
“The General Dīk!” exclaimed the bearer, trying to improve
matters--“nay, this is the _chota sahib_. Think ye that the Major
Sahib would have suffered you to enter his quarters, ye sons of
swine?”
“But the little gentleman was lost!” was the cry, as Fitz threw off
the sheet and sat up. “Where, then, is the General Dīk? Let us even
seek Abd-ur-Rahim and ask him of the matter, for surely they have
murdered our Lord Dīk!”
In an incredibly short space of time Abd-ur-Rahim had been informed of
the miracle that had occurred, and was on the spot, only to become
more and more mystified in the course of his inquiries. That Dick was
gone and Fitz had taken his place was evident, but when or how the
exchange had been effected was a mystery. None of the prisoners would
offer any explanation. “That is for you to find out,” was their answer
to all questions, and Abd-ur-Rahim and his officers beat their brains
in vain. Means, motive, and opportunity for the change alike appeared
wanting, and the puzzled Ethiopians took refuge at last in the
hypothesis put forward by one of their number--
“It is the magic of the doctor lady! She has changed one into the
other to lead us astray and to baffle our search for the youth.”