One of the mob struck the old professor in the face. Instantly Dick
started forward.
Then a most fortunate thing happened.
From the balcony of a near-by minaret a muezzin sent forth the call to
prayer:
"God is great. There is but one God. Mohammed is the prophet of God.
Prayer is better than sleep. Come to prayer."
Immediately a wonderful change came over the crowd on the street. As one
man, they lifted their hands to their ears, the lobes of which they
touched with their thumbs, keeping their hands outspread, at the same
time beginning to repeat certain passages from the Koran. This was the
beginning of the Mohammedan prayer.
The professor seemed forgotten. Dick realized instantly that this was a
time to be improved, for the shortest prayer would require several
minutes.
The call to prayer had come at a moment most fortunate for Professor
Gunn. Instantly Dick hurried past the confused and trembling old man,
hissing in his ear:
"Follow me!"
All around them were the praying Mussulmans, but not one of them put out
a hand to stop the disguised foreigners.
Brad followed after Dick and the professor, thus acting as a sort of
rear guard.
Once or twice Dick looked back to see if Zenas was following. Terror had
given the old man strength, and he was not far from the boy's heels.
Even when the devotees of Mohammed fell on their knees and began beating
their heads on the ground, the fugitives continued to thread their way
amid the half-prostrate figures.
Dick did not know which way Assouan had gone, but he did know it was
best for them to get as far as possible from the vicinity of the German
hotel.
Of course, he hoped the black servant of Ras al Had would again appear,
but he did not linger to look around for him.
They were fortunate in getting out of the thickest of the crowd before
the devotees had finished praying.
"That sure was a close call," muttered Buckhart. "I reckoned we were all
goners."
"Why didn't you leave me, boys?" asked the professor. "I was keeping
silent to give you time to escape."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Dick resentfully. "I hope you
don't think we're that sort!"
"I hope so some myself!" growled the Texan. "Where is that thundering
nig--I mean colored gent?"
"He's skipped," said Dick.
"Hiked and left us to go it alone, eh?" nodded the Texan. "Well, that's
a plenty fine!"
"We may find him," suggested Zenas.
"Not likely," said Dick. "I fancy he thought the jig was up when he saw
the crowd fall on you, as he shook the dust of that locality off his
feet."
"That will leave us in a beautiful scrape; but we're outside that
hotel," said Brad. "It was a close call there, for we barely succeeded
in slipping through the fingers of the Turks. How are we going to get
out of this dirty old city, Dick?"
"I can't say," confessed Merriwell.
"Talk about the wild and woolly West!" growled Brad. "Why, since the
days of Sam Houston and Davy Crockett there never were such doings in
Texas as we've struck right here in this dried-up, outlandish country.
If I ever get back home to tell about these doings, I won't dare to
tell, for they sure would lynch me as a liar."
"We're talking too much," said Dick. "We're attracting attention. Stop
talking and keep moving."
He led the way and they followed blindly.
Suddenly, as they turned from one street into another, the most
appalling medley of horrible sounds burst upon their ears. It seemed
that a hundred human beings were being tortured in the most excruciating
manner, and were howling forth their dying agonies. There were yells,
screams, roars, and, amid it all, a sort of muffled music, as of drums
and other instruments.
"Great catamounts!" gasped Buckhart. "We're up against a whole tribe of
Injuns at a scalp dance, or I'm mistaken!"
Dick was startled and filled with wonderment.
"Listen!" he urged.
"Hu, ya Hu! Hu, ya Hu! Hu, ya Hu!"
These were the only words they could distinguish amid that terrible
howling.
The professor had been agitated, but now he was the first to recover.
"That cry, 'Hu, ya Hu,' means 'God, oh God,'" he explained. "It is the
cry of the howling dervishes. Look--there is the open door of a temple,
and the sounds come from within. It is shortly after midday prayer on
Friday, which is the time for the howlers to do their work."
"Well, of all howling I ever heard, that sure is about the most hair
lifting," declared Buckhart.
They were compelled to pass the open door of the temple or turn back,
and they decided to keep on.
As they slipped past, they obtained a peep within the place. They saw a
number of dancing, whirling, twisting, writhing men within, apparently
in a perfect frenzy--stamping their feet on the floor and yelling madly,
their lips covered with foam and their eyes closed. Others were
stretched prone on the floor. Some were sitting about beating on drums
and playing queer instruments.
That was all they saw, for they dared not linger to look into the place,
had they so desired.
They had not proceeded much farther when Buckhart stopped, a look of
gloom in his eyes.
"Whatever are we going to do?" he inquired.
"We must get out of the city just as fast as we can," declared Gunn. "By
this time it must be known that we escaped from the hotel and how we
escaped."
"That's a fact," nodded Dick.
"But we can't leave the city without Nadia and her brother," protested
Brad. "We can't leave them here in this nest of crazy fools, to be
butchered!"
"We must leave them to Assouan," said Merriwell. "I believe he will get
them out of Damascus."
"I don't know about that--I doubt it! He skipped in a hurry to save his
own black head."
"For which we cannot blame him greatly. What have we done that he should
risk his life as far as he did for us?"
"Why, we sort of resuscitated his old master when the whole bunch
thought him killed."
"And for that Ras al Had sent Assouan back into Damascus, with
instructions to aid us in escaping from the city, if possible. Assouan
stuck by us longer than I thought he would. But after he left us it is
probable he hurried to Nadia and Budthorne and guided them out of the
city."
"Mebbe so," muttered Brad; "but I doubt it. I shan't be for hiking out
until I feel sure Nadia's not waiting for us somewhere."
"Unless we make all haste in escaping," said the professor, "we shall
not escape at all."
"Why not?"
"As I said before, by this time it must be known that we escaped from
the hotel in disguise."
"Why?"
"Have you forgotten Miguel Bunol?" asked Dick.
"Thunder! I had forgotten him!"
"We left him in that closet."
"Sure."
"He must have been found ere this."
"That's right."
"Although he was bound and gagged, he could hear what was going on in
that room."
"Yes."
"Well, you see, he knows how we were disguised."
"Straight goods."
"And he hates us with an undying and deadly hatred. He will lose no time
in telling the Turkish officers how we escaped. The city will be scoured
for us. Every avenue of escape will be closed. Our disguise will be
worse than useless as soon as Bunol talks. We shall be captured. Our
heads will be chopped off as soon as the Turks can attend to the job."
"Pretty bad," admitted Buckhart grimly; "but, all the same, I hate to
run for it, thinking all the while that we may be leaving Nadia and
Budthorne to be murdered. Can't we find them? Is there no way to----"
"What show have we to find them by searching aimlessly through the
streets, Brad?" said Dick. "Assouan hid them somewhere with a friend.
Even the Turks might not find them, but they could have no trouble in
finding us wandering about in the open streets. Be sensible, old man."
The Texan surrendered at last.
"All right, pard," he said; "we'll get out of the city, but I'll never
forgive myself if any harm comes to Nadia."