The Capture of the Coffin
About noon--I saw no one but blacks in the meanwhile--the Captain came
with a letter. "From Sir Robert--catch!" said he. I tore it open. A
single sheet of note enclosed a cheque signed in blank. "Dear Dr.
Pinsent," ran the letter. "You will find that my signature will be
honoured for any sum it may please you to put upon my life in your
esteem. Permit me to express a hope that you will not hurt my vanity in
your selection of numerals.
"Sincerely yours, ROBERT OTTLEY."
I handed the note to Weldon. He read it and whistled loud and long.
"You might beggar him!" he cried. "The man is stark mad."
"Either that or he has made a truly wonderful discovery," I rejoined.
"And there is Belleville to consider. That man, I fancy, is a
rascal--but also a sane one."
"It has me beat," said the handsome Captain. "The whole thing from
start to finish. Ottley is up there now spooning his daughter like
a lover. He was as sweet as pie to me, too. I feel like a stranded
jelly-fish. What will you do?"
I enclosed the cheque in a blank cover, sealed it and gave it to the
Captain.
"Will you be my courier?"
"Of course," said he, and swung off.
He returned at the end of my third cigar, with a second letter. It ran,
"My dear young friend, Your refusal has deeply pained me. The more,
because it deprives me of the pleasure of your company on the road to
Cairo. I beg you, nevertheless, to choose from my stores all that you
may require that may serve you during your continued sojourn at Rakh.
We start at sunset for the Nile and north.
"Ever yours attachedly,
"R. OTTLEY."
When the Captain had mastered this precious effusion, he collapsed upon
a stool. "He intends to leave you here alone in the desert. It's--it's
marooning, nothing less!" he gasped.
I lighted a fourth cigar and lay back thinking hard. In ten minutes I
had made up my mind. I sat up. The Captain was anxiously watching me.
"See here, my lad," I said, "in that bundle yonder is the manuscript
of a book I have been working hard upon for three years and more. It
is the very heart of me. Take good care of it. One of these days--if I
live--I'll call for it at your diggings in London. I have your address
in my notebook."
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" said the Captain. "But what's the game?"
"Diamond cut diamond. I'm going a journey. But I'll say no more. Mad
or sane, you are eating Ottley's salt, and are beholden to him for his
paternity of the exceptionally gifted young woman you propose to marry.
Good-bye to you."
I held out my hand. He sprang up and wrung it hard. "You are sure you
are doing right?" he asked.
I filled my pockets with his cigars. "I am sure of nothing," I replied,
as I did so, "except this--I have been abominably ill-used by a man who
under Heaven owes his life to me--and this--I resent it."
I put on my helmet, nodded and left the tent.
The Captain cried out, "Good luck!" Five minutes later I turned and
waved my hand to him. He was still standing by the tent flap gazing
after me. I thought to myself, "He is as honest as he is good to look
upon. He will make May Ottley a gallant husband." I am a reasonably
bad Christian, and quite as selfish as many worse, but somehow or
another the reflection brought no aftermath of bitterness. The
handsome, happy-hearted boy--he was little else for all his three and
thirty years--had crept into my heart, and I felt somehow the chamber
he occupied was next door to that wherein May Ottley's visage was
enshrined. But I had work to do; so I turned the key on both. The sun
was so hideously hot that I was forced to hasten slowly. But I reached
the Nile under two hours, and found, as I expected, Sir Robert Ottley's
steam launch moored to the bank. Her smoking funnel had been the
beacon of my march. She was in charge of an old French pilot, a Turkish
engineer, and four Levantines, piratical-looking stokers, mongrels all.
I stalked aboard with an air of paramount authority. The Frenchman came
forward, bowing. He wore a sort of uniform. "Steam up, Captain?" I
asked.
"Since morning, monsieur!" he replied.
"Then kindly push off at once. I must overtake the punt that started
last night without delay."
His mouth opened. "But monsieur," he protested, "I----"
"You waste time," I interrupted.
He rubbed his hands nervously together. "But monsieur is unknown to me.
I have my written orders from Sare Roberrrrt. Doubtless monsieur has
authority. But monsieur vill perrceive----"
"That you are a punctilious old fool," I retorted. "Here is my
authority!" What I showed him was a revolver. He jumped, I vow, two
feet in the air, and hastily retreated. But I followed more quickly
still, and forced him to the bridge. There he became very voluble,
however; so much so, indeed, that I was constrained to cock my pistol.
That settled him. He thundered out his orders and we were soon racing
at ten knots an hour down stream. When rounding the nearest bend to
the Hill of Rakh the temptation was very strong in me to sound the
steamer's whistle. But I am proud to say that I refrained. It would
have been a little-minded thing to do. About midnight, feeling weary,
I ran the steamer's nose gently into a mud bank, drove the captain
down to the deck and locked him with the rest of the crew in the
engine-house. Then I foraged round for eatables, made a hearty supper
and snatched about five hours' sleep. When morning came I awoke as
fresh and strong as a young colt. After bath and breakfast, I released
my prisoners, made them eat and then push off the bank. We lost an
hour at that job, but, at length, it was accomplished, and our race
for the punt recommenced. We overhauled it about four o'clock the same
afternoon. It was just an ordinary flat-bottomed Nile abomination,
towed by a tiny, panting, puffing-billy, with twenty yards of good
Manilla. Twelve Arabs squatted round the sarcophagus. Seated on the
sarcophagus, under a double awning, was a burly-looking Englishman.
He was smoking a pipe, and one look at his face told me exactly why
he had been entrusted with Sir Robert Ottley's priceless treasure. He
was, as plain as daylight, a gentleman if one ever lived, a brave man,
too, shrewd and self-reliant and as incorruptibly devoted to his duty
as a bull-dog with a thief's hand between his jaws. I wondered if I
would get the better of him. As a first step towards that desideratum,
I assured the French captain that I entertained too much regard for him
to put him to a lingering death should he disobey me. I had previously
locked the rest of the crew in the engine-house. Then we bore down
on the punt and I shouted for the tug to be stopped. This was done.
As it lost way, we nosed up, going easy until we were alongside the
punt. Then I ordered half speed astern until we, too, were stationary.
Some power of suction or attraction began immediately to draw the two
crafts together. The tug, however, continued to remain, say thirty
feet off. The Englishman ordered out rope fenders and asked me what
the blazes I was doing. I answered that I had come after him from Sir
Robert Ottley--which was in a sense perfectly true--and that he could
hardly expect me to shout out urgent private business before listeners,
which was also a reasonably veracious statement of the facts. The
Englishman--I never learned his name--observed, with some heat, that he
would not leave his charge for a second for any man living except Sir
Robert Ottley; and that if I had something to tell him I must go aboard
the punt.
I said "Very well," and as the crafts touched I helped myself to the
punt with a rope.
"Well, what is it?" he demanded, and he eyed me most suspiciously, one
hand in his breast. Doubtless he had there a revolver. Had he been
warned? And of me? It is a thing I have still my doubts about. But I
looked him frankly in the eyes and told him the truth to the very best
of my ability.
"It has lately come to Sir Robert Ottley's knowledge," I began, "that
one of his guests--a man named Pinsent" (he started at the name) "has
conceived a bold design of relieving you of this very charge of yours,
which you are guarding with such praiseworthy solicitude."
"Oh!" said the Englishman, "and how would he go about it?" The idea
appeared to tickle him. He laughed.
"He would follow you and attack you," said I.
The Englishman put his hands on his thighs and simply roared. "He would
have to swim after me," he chuckled. "There is not another launch save
these two between here and Ham!"
"I am honestly glad to hear it," I replied, and, indeed, I was.
"It's a mare's nest," declared the Englishman.
"Oh!" said I. "This Pinsent is a desperate fellow and resourceful. Do
you know, he actually tried single-handed to seize that launch."
"The _Swallow_!" cried the Englishman. "Impossible."
"On the contrary!" I retorted. "He succeeded. He stands before you. My
name is Pinsent. Permit me!"
He was a trifle slow-witted, I fancy. He still looked puzzled, when his
face emerged above the Nile water, after his dive. But I would not let
him return to the punt. Immediately I discovered that the Arabs were
only armed with knives. I had taken the trouble to throw overboard all
the firearms that I could find on the _Swallow_; so I just drove them
aboard the launch and ordered the Frenchman to sheer off and return to
Rakh. He was charmed at the permission.
The Englishman fired at me twice from the water, but he had to keep
himself afloat, so he naturally missed. When he was well-nigh drowned
I hauled him up with a boat hook. It was easy to disarm him in that
condition. I had intended to put him on the tug, but I waited too long.
The tug cut the tow rope before my eyes and without so much as by your
leave puffed after the _Swallow_. The Englishman and I were thus left
lonely on the punt; in middle stream. The current was fairly strong at
that point and making towards a long, low-lying sweep of reedy flats.
I had no mind to land there, however, so after tying up the Englishman
neck and crop, I contrived to hoist a sail and steered for the opposite
bank.
The Englishman and I had nothing to say to each other. No doubt he
recognised the futility of conversation in the circumstances; as for
me, I never felt less inclined to talk. About five o'clock we grounded
under the lee of a pretty little promontory. It was populated with
crocodiles. Nice companions--at a distance--crocodiles--musky-smelling
brutes.