"Well, that certain was an adventure, all right," laughed Brad, when
they were again seated in their compartment and the train was moving.
"I don't know what I'll do with you boys!" exclaimed Professor Gunn,
with an air of exasperation. "You keep me on pins and needles all the
time. I surely thought those Arabs would slice you up when they saw you
go after the old sheik. They thought you were defiling the dead."
"But the old boy was grateful when he learned that we had pumped the
breath back into him," said Dick.
"He pretended to be," nodded the professor; "but that is no sign."
"Why not?"
"He's a Mohammedan, and they think it no harm to do anything to an
infidel. They may deceive him, lie to him, steal from him, even kill
him, without committing a sin. Richard, do not take any stock in the
words of that old rascal."
"I don't have to," said young Merriwell; "for it is not likely I'll ever
see him again. All the same, I seemed to feel that he was sincere when
he expressed his gratitude."
"It's evident he's a gent of some authority in his tribe," put in Brad.
"All the rest of his particular bunch seemed to stand in awe of him a
plenty."
Their interest in the strange country, together with their recent
adventure, gave them food enough for conversation, and the journey was
not nearly as long as they had expected it would seem.
At last, as the train approached Damascus, they found themselves in a
narrow valley that was almost a gorge. Through this valley a clear
stream rushed and roared over an exceedingly rocky bed. This stream
drove a number of mills, the entrances to which were always surrounded
by donkeys and camels, these animals having brought little loads of
grain to the mills to be ground.
On the outskirts of the city they passed a group of Turkish villas,
which looked very picturesque and attractive. These, they were told,
were occupied by exiled officers of the Turkish government, who had
committed offenses of some sort or had excited the distrust of the
sultan. Instead of ordering them beheaded, their imperial master had
sent them to Damascus, where they could be closely guarded.
Finally the train drew into the station at Damascus.
"Say, just have a look!" cried Brad. "I opine the whole town has turned
out to meet us."
There was a great crowd at the station--Arabs, Assyrians, Armenians,
Turks, Jews, Greeks, Egyptians, and people from many desert tribes. They
were all in a great tumult and uproar. A fence prevented them from
crowding close to the track, but behind this fence they were packed
thick as sardines in a box, staring, talking, pushing, gesticulating,
and making a great hubbub.
"I wonder if this is the usual thing," said Dick. "Perhaps some noted
person is on this train."
"Not likely that has brought them here," declared the professor. "The
arrival of a train is an event, and probably all the idle men in town
rush to the station to see it come in."
Their compartment door was flung open.
With alacrity the two boys descended to the platform.
"There they are!" cried a familiar voice that gave Buckhart a thrill.
"Oh, Dick! Hey, Brad!" called another voice.
Dick located the person who called to him. He grasped Buckhart's arm and
pointed.
"There they are--Budthorne and his sister!" he exclaimed.
In the midst of the crowd beyond the fence, being jostled about by the
swaying mob, were Dunbar Budthorne and Nadia, whom they had last seen in
Italy.
Professor Gunn was calling to the boys.
"Hold on, you kittenish young rascals!" he croaked. "Don't be in such a
hurry. Help look after this baggage."
But the professor was forgotten in the excitement of what followed. Dick
saw the wild crowd separate Dunbar Budthorne and his sister. He saw the
two forced apart. Nadia was whirled aside. Then two men grasped her, one
placing a dusky hand over her mouth to prevent her from shouting, while
she was swept off her feet and literally borne away.
Dick shouted to Brad. He made a rush for the fence. Up into the air he
sailed in a great leap that carried him over the obstruction and into
the midst of the crowd.
The American boy seemed like an infuriated animal, for he hurled people
to the right and left like one possessing the strength of a giant. He
ripped a pathway through that crowd in a most amazing manner.
Nadia Budthorne was struggling vainly with her captors, who were on the
point of lifting her into a carriage, when the American boy reached
them.
Dick struck one man a blow that caused him to release the girl
instantly.
But another swarthy fellow appeared and sought to seize the boy, while
still one held fast to the girl.
Nadia, however, managed to get her mouth clear of the smothering hand
that had been pressed over it.
She uttered a scream.
That cry was answered by a roar in the voice of Brad Buckhart, who was
fighting his way through the crowd.
As the second ruffian reached for him, Dick managed by an agile twist
and dodge to escape the fellow's hand. Then he tripped the man and went
at the one who was seeking to force Nadia into the carriage.
"Drop her, you cur!" he palpitated.
This fellow, who was the biggest one of the trio, flung the girl into
the arms of yet another, then whirled on Dick, whipping out a knife.
The giant made a quick, forward, ripping stroke with the knife.
Again Merriwell's quickness on his feet saved him, for he squirmed aside
so that the blade of the knife simply pierced the loose part of his coat
that swung from him when he made that rapid movement.
The next instant Dick seized the dark man's hand with his left hand,
held it firm, struck sharply with the lower edge of his right hand,
which landed on the other's wrist.
That man's wrist was broken as if it had been a pipestem, and the knife
fell to the ground.
Dick had broken it by a trick, knowing just exactly how to accomplish
the feat.
A howl rose from the wretch, but the boy gave him no further attention.
He turned to look for Nadia.
Fortunately Brad Buckhart had reached the girl and in an encounter of
this sort the Texan was second only to Dick Merriwell. In fact, Brad
fought with more slashing fury than did Dick, but not with the same
quick wit and instant decision on the right course to pursue.
The Texan had proved assistance enough, however, for he had rescued
Nadia and knocked down the man who was seeking to force her into the
carriage. The latter fell under the feet of the horses. The animals
reared and trampled on him. He screamed, and the horses plunged away,
the black driver apparently letting them go, instead of seeking to stop
them.
The moment the carriage was gone the men who had attacked Nadia seemed
to be swallowed by the crowd that surged round. The one with the broken
wrist vanished, and even the fellow who had been trampled by the horse
could not be found. It was easy for the other two to disappear in the
crowd, for any one of a hundred men there might have been taken for
either of them.
Dunbar Budthorne, pale and shaking with excitement, finally reached his
sister, finding her clinging to Brad, who was supporting her with one
arm.
Dick was on the other side of Nadia.
"Sister!" exclaimed Dunbar huskily; "have those brutes----"
"I'm all right, brother," she hastened to declare. "They did handle me
roughly, but----"
"The brutes!" he grated. "Is there no protection for respectable
travelers in this wretched city? This is the third offense, and this was
more outrageous than the others. I couldn't do a thing. Before I
realized it the crowd had forced us apart."
"It's fortunate Dick and Brad were able to reach me," she declared. "I
was helpless in the hands of those black ruffians. I believe they would
have forced me into that carriage and carried me off before all this
crowd only for the boys."
Budthorne now shook hands with the boys, expressing his thanks and
gratitude.
Buckhart was highly indignant over what had occurred, and he wanted to
know why Dunbar had not appealed to the authorities for protection.
Budthorne explained that he had appealed, but that foreigners were
liable to insult anywhere in Damascus, and that often they were roughly
treated.
This was true. The Moslems of that city are proud, but illiterate. They
have come to know of the advancement of other peoples whom they regard
as inferior, and they resent it. For four thousand years Damascus
occupied an important position in the world, but now it is a place of
very little importance, much to the indignation of its citizens.
But Budthorne knew the treatment accorded himself and his sister did not
arise wholly from the fact that they were foreigners. There was another
reason, which he explained later.
Professor Gunn came fluttering through the crowd, in a great state of
agitation.
"Bless my soul! bless my soul!" he stammered. "This is dreadful! Is this
thing going to continue wherever we go? If so, I'll just have to take
these boys back home. It's scandalous! My nerves are completely upset!"
"Where is our baggage?" asked Dick.
"I had to leave it."
"Unguarded?"
"Yes."
"Well, we'll be lucky if we ever see it again. Brad, stay with Nadia and
Dunbar, while I go with the professor to look after that baggage."
Fortunately not a piece of the baggage had been stolen. Dick was
clear-headed, and he soon learned what to do with it, although Zenas
rendered absolutely no assistance. There was a German hotel in the city,
and a representative of the house took charge of all the luggage after
it was pointed out, assuring them that it would be taken to the hotel
without delay. Another man escorted our friends through the crowd to a
carriage that ran to the hotel.
Once in the carriage they breathed easier. Away they were whirled
through the narrow streets of the strange, old city, leaving the station
and the motley crowd behind.
The houses of Damascus are mainly of sun-dried clay with flat roofs,
surrounded by low copings. This roof serves for many purposes. Often it
is used as a dining room, while during the hot summer months it serves
as a bedroom at night. On warm evenings people sit on the housetops to
enjoy the air. When the muezzin appears on the balcony of a minaret
hundreds upon hundreds of faithful Moslems mount to their housetops and
go through the gymnastic contortions of Mohammedan worship.
But not all the buildings of Damascus are low and flat-roofed. There are
some towers, and temples, and minarets, besides a few modern buildings,
with roofs of bright corrugated iron, which glisten in the sunshine.
Compared with most American cities, Damascus lacks trees and foliage.
Compared with the desert surrounding it, however, it is a perfect bower
of shade and rest.
A look of disappointment crept over the face of Brad Buckhart as he
gazed around him on the way from the station to the hotel.
"I opine this is the worst part of Damascus?" he observed.
"On the contrary," said Dunbar Budthorne, "it is far from being the
worst part. This is quite respectable--almost swell, to use a vulgar
word."
"Well, I certain am a plenty disappointed," muttered the Texan. "She
isn't just as I expected her to be."
Dick questioned Dunbar about the annoyance to which he and Nadia had
been subjected since arriving in the city.
"I may as well tell the cause of it," said Budthorne, although Nadia
showed confusion and shook her head warningly. "It's all right, sister.
You were not to blame."
Brad wondered at her confusion and detected her in the act of casting a
glance of apprehension toward him.
"On the steamer coming from Smyrna to Beirut," said Dunbar, "we chanced
to meet a very handsome and distinguished-appearing Turkish gentleman,
who was called Hafsa Pasha. Although scarcely more than thirty years of
age, he had traveled a great deal and had spent two years in the United
States. He was educated, cultured, refined in manner, and a splendid
traveling companion. Both Nadia and myself enjoyed his company very
much. He told us he was bound for Damascus on business that concerned
the Turkish government. He had been here before, and, therefore, he was
able to give us much information of value and save us many petty
annoyances.
"I confess that we both became exceedingly interested in this man. He
was a scholar and could quote Shakespeare and Burns--even Longfellow! I
think he had read Byron, but he confessed a natural prejudice for the
great English poet who became the idol of Greece.
"At first neither Nadia nor I saw anything offensive in his manners.
True, he was inclined to quote Burns to Nadia whenever he could find the
opportunity, but she thought nothing of that until he made love to her
pointblank."
Buckhart gurgled a little deep down in his throat.
"Then," continued Budthorne, "Nadia began to grow alarmed. She tried to
avoid him, but every way she turned he seemed to bob up before her. She
tried to keep him at a distance without offending him. Before we reached
Beirut he proposed outright."
Again Buckhart gurgled.
"He would not take no for an answer. In every way possible he sought to
induce her to consider his proposal. At last he seemed to lose control
of himself. In an hour we would be in Beirut. He found her alone on the
after deck. I came up just in time to see him catch her in his arms and
try to kiss her. We had an encounter, and I confess that he got rather
the best of it, although I hit him in the face. That blow seemed to
arouse a sleeping savage in him, for he cursed me and called me a dog of
an infidel, swearing he would make me weep drops of blood for that
insult.
"Well, we hastened out of Beirut and away to Damascus; but the day after
we reached this city Hafsa Pasha appeared. His manner seemed again
altered, and he was very polite and humble. He entreated pardon and
begged to have an interview with Nadia. She declined to see him. Before
he left, he laughingly told me that she would have to see him before she
could get out of this city.
"That was our first annoyance in Damascus. The following day we were
shopping in the bazaars when suddenly Hafsa Pasha and a number of men
surrounded us. I was jostled aside. Hafsa Pasha talked to Nadia like a
man deranged. He tried to plead with her, he offered her wealth and
position, and then he threatened. I don't know what might have happened,
but a party of English tourists came along and I appealed to them. There
came near being a free fight in that bazaar, but the Turk and his
followers finally retired and the Englishmen escorted us back to the
hotel.
"Then came the letter that stated you would arrive in a day or two. We
have been watching the trains since then, and that is how we happened to
be at the station to-day. You know what happened. I am satisfied that
Hafsa Pasha was the instigator of this assault upon us. It seems now
that he actually contemplates carrying Nadia off by force. We must get
out of Damascus right away, or I fear he will find a way to accomplish
his evil purpose."