An Australian team bound for England always has a good time on board
the steamer, and the eleven of which Edgar was a member was no
exception to the rule. At Melbourne and Adelaide they were joined by
the members of the team hailing from Victoria and South Australia.
On arriving at Colombo they went ashore to play a match against a team
selected from the leading local cricketers. Being out of practice
they did not play up to their usual form, and the Colombo team nearly
defeated them, and were much elated in consequence.
At this time the mail steamers did not pass through the Suez Canal at
night-time, and the _Cuzco_ anchored off Ismailia. A run ashore to pass
away the time was only natural, and Edgar, accompanied by Will Brown
and other members of the team, made up a party. This night ashore at
Ismailia was destined to effect a change in Edgar’s future life.
The population of Ismailia is a mixture of different nationalities,
some of them being of a rather desperate and fierce nature. An Egyptian
wedding-party passed through one of the streets; it was a curious sight
to unaccustomed eyes. The men, swathed in long white garments, with
turbans on their heads, and sandals on their feet, carried long poles,
at the ends of which lanterns were fixed. Their brown arms and faces
shone in the reflected light, and offered a strong contrast to the
colour of their garments. Fierce eyes gleamed from under dark, bushy
eyebrows, and as the men marched, uttering a wild chant in peculiar
tones, the effect was somewhat weird. The bridegroom, who was being
escorted to his bride, was a tall, powerful young fellow, of a better
caste than his friends.
All went well until the procession approached the bride’s house, when
a party of young fellows from the _Cuzco_, who had been revelling not
wisely but too well, barred the road. It was a foolhardy thing to do.
To stop such a procession was exceedingly dangerous, and could only be
construed as an insult by the natives, who are not slow to avenge any
slight put upon them.
Edgar and those with him saw the danger, and shouted to the
obstructionists to move out of the way. It was, however, too late,
and the warning would probably not have been heeded in any case.
Seeing how matters stood, the Egyptians grew furious. Knives flashed
in the light, and a rush was made at the foolish young fellows, who so
recklessly hindered the procession.
‘Come on,’ shouted Edgar, ‘or there will be murder done!’
He rushed forward, followed by his companions, but they found it
impossible to render much assistance, owing to the confusion. Edgar
became separated from the others, and was drawing back from the crowd,
when he heard a cry for help, followed by a woman’s shriek.
Rushing in the direction of the sound, he saw a girl of about eighteen
struggling in the grasp of a powerful Egyptian. He recognised her
as Miss Muriel Wylde, a passenger on the _Cuzco_, with whom he had
had pleasant chats on deck. In a moment Edgar had the ruffian by the
throat, and forced him to loose his hold. No sooner, however, was the
girl free, than another man seized her and attempted to carry her off.
She struggled violently, and shouted again for help. Edgar had his work
cut out with the man he first tackled. He was unarmed, and had to rely
upon his fists. The furious Egyptian rushed upon him with an uplifted
knife in his hand. Edgar did not flinch, but caught the fellow by the
wrist, and the knife flew from his grasp. Then, with his left fist, he
dealt the man a savage blow between the eyes that well-nigh stunned him.
Turning to see what had become of Miss Wylde, Edgar saw that she
had fainted, and her captor was hurrying away with her. Edgar gave
chase, and quickly came up with him. The Egyptian dropped his burden,
and turned on Edgar, aiming a terrific blow at him with his knife.
Edgar sprang backwards, and the man over-reached himself. Before he
recovered, Edgar had him on the ground, and stunned him by knocking his
head on the hard road.
He then sprang to his feet, and went to the assistance of Miss Wylde,
who had luckily been thrown on the soft sand by the side of the road,
and found she had recovered from her faint.
‘Can you walk?’ said Edgar; ‘are you much hurt?’
She was trembling and alarmed, and could hardly answer him.
‘We must make our way to the quay,’ he said, ‘and get a boat back to
the ship as quickly as possible. These fellows are frantic at being
interfered with, and are in a dangerous state. Lean on me, and try and
walk.’
She put her hand on his shoulder, and Edgar supported her by placing
his arm round her waist.
They had not gone many yards before Edgar heard loud shouting behind
them. It was evident some of the Egyptians were coming that way, and
they must be avoided if possible. A few paces straight ahead Edgar saw
a high wall, and what looked like a doorway. He lifted his companion
off her feet, and ran as fast as he could towards the archway.
On reaching it he knocked loudly. The door was opened by an old native
woman, who peered curiously into his face.
Without saying a word Edgar stepped inside, and closed the door behind
him.
‘What do you here?’ asked the old woman, in broken English. ‘Are you
from the ship?’
‘Yes,’ said Edgar, not knowing what else to say, or what excuse to give
for his conduct.
The old woman’s eyes gleamed, and her wrinkled, parchment-like skin
seemed to crumple up and almost crack. Her mouth expanded in what she
no doubt meant for a smile, but Edgar thought it a diabolical grin, and
Muriel Wylde shrank back.
‘Money--gold!’ said the woman hoarsely, her skinny hands extended like
a couple of claws. ‘Gold, and you shall hear your fortune. The oldest
Egyptian in Ismailia can speak truth.’
Edgar felt relieved; had the old woman guessed they were fugitives she
might not have been so friendly. He looked at his companion, and said:
‘We shall be glad to hear our fortunes from you, mother. That is what
we came for,’ and he took a sovereign out of his pocket.
The old Egyptian’s eyes fastened upon it, and her hand was stretched
out.
‘Give me your hand,’ she said to Miss Wylde.
The girl put out her open hand reluctantly, and the Egyptian gazed at
it so attentively that she appeared to have forgotten the coin.
‘You have been in trouble, and he has saved you,’ croaked the woman.
The girl started, and the Egyptian smiled at this corroborative
evidence. She had hazarded a guess at the situation, and hit the mark.
She then proceeded to give an account of what would follow this
adventure, and caused Muriel Wylde to blush, and wish she was safely on
board again.
Edgar’s future was soon told, in the usual strain. He was the hero of
the story, and would be rewarded in due time by the hand of the lady he
had rescued.
Edgar gave the fortune-teller the sovereign, and asked her to direct
them to the quay. She cautiously opened the door, and peered out into
the darkness, listening attentively. She beckoned them to step out, and
then pointed in the direction in which they should go.
They walked for some distance, and then reached the part of the town
where the cafés were still open, and men and women were drinking
coffee, seated round tables under the verandas and trees.
They sat down at one of the tables and rested, refreshing themselves
with some excellent coffee.
‘We must hurry back to the ship,’ said Edgar. ‘Your party may have
returned, and if so your mother will be very anxious.’
She was eager to go, and they rose from the table. As they walked away
a tall Egyptian followed them. It was one of the men Edgar had knocked
down. They were not out of danger yet.
A long avenue led down to the quay, where the boats were generally
waiting to sail or row passengers back to the ship.
The Egyptian followed them, keeping within the shadow of the trees, his
bare feet making no sound.
Muriel Wylde was still weak from the effect of the shock she had
received, and Edgar had to support her. He seemed nothing loath to do
so, and his companion felt a sense of pleasurable security with his
strong arm round her waist.
On reaching the quay Edgar called out to a boatman, who came slowly
towards them in his tiny craft.
He explained that he wanted to be taken to the _Cuzco_, and the boatman
agreed.
Edgar handed his companion down into the boat, and as she stepped on to
the seat she looked up and gave a cry of alarm. Behind Edgar stood the
tall Egyptian, who had crept stealthily up, and was about to stab Edgar
in the back. At her cry Edgar looked round, and, seeing no other way of
escape, he sprang into the water. The Egyptian sprang after him, and
grasped Edgar by the arm. A terrible struggle then took place, and in
the water the Egyptian proved the more powerful.
The man in the boat made no movement until Muriel Wylde seized a round
pole, and tried to hit Edgar’s assailant on the head. The boatman then
took the part of his countryman, and attempted to seize the pole and
wrench it out of Muriel’s hands. The girl, however, was now thoroughly
roused. Edgar had rescued her, and she must do the same for him, for he
was in deadly peril. The Egyptian dragged Edgar down and got his head
under the water, with the evident intention of drowning him.
A struggle commenced in the boat, but by a lucky stroke Muriel managed
to hit the boatman in the chest, and he fell overboard. The Egyptian
was not far from the boat, and Muriel, raising the pole, brought it
down heavily on his head, causing him to loose his hold of Edgar.
Half suffocated, Edgar came to the surface, and struck out feebly for
the boat.
Muriel leaned over the side and grasped him by the arm. Pulling with
all her strength, she managed to give him sufficient assistance to help
him to scramble into the boat.
The two Egyptians in the water were on either side of the boat, and
were trying to upset it, and Muriel kept them from clambering in by
hitting at them with the pole.
Edgar was well-nigh exhausted, but he managed to set the sail, and, as
the breeze was blowing from the shore, the boat soon made headway and
left the Egyptians behind. Finding pursuit hopeless, they swam ashore,
and stood there gesticulating furiously.
Muriel, turning round to look at Edgar, saw he was unconscious. She
was accustomed to sailing-boats, and, having placed her jacket under
Edgar’s head, she steered with one hand and guided the sail with the
other. The boat sped along in the direction of the _Cuzco_, whose
lights were seen shining in the distance.
Muriel Wylde sat watching Edgar, and when she thought over their
night’s adventures, she was thankful they had escaped with life. Edgar
was a handsome young fellow, and Muriel Wylde felt her heart beat fast
as she looked at him. They had been good friends on board during the
voyage, and Edgar’s mates had chaffed him about ‘pretty Miss Wylde.’
Her mother had noticed her daughter’s partiality for Edgar’s society,
and did not discourage it, as she had taken a fancy to the young fellow.
Before they reached the steamer, Muriel Wylde left the stern of the
boat for a moment to attend to Edgar. As she bent over him, he opened
his eyes and looked into her face, which was very near to his own.
Their eyes met, and they suddenly felt that something had been revealed
to each of them.
Edgar took Muriel Wylde’s hands, and drew her towards him. She did not
resist, and when he kissed her she was not surprised or startled. It
seemed a fitting climax to the dangers they had passed through.
So lost were they in each other, although neither spoke, they did not
notice they were close to the _Cuzco_. A loud ‘Ahoy!’ from the deck
roused them, and in a few minutes they were alongside the steamer, and
friendly hands were assisting them up the gangway.