CHAPTER XX.

THE KHEDIVE TAKES THE LAST TRICK—BUT ONE.

We reached Port Said without interruption at five o’clock on a gloomy

afternoon, and my father managed to get his papers signed so he could

clear the port an hour later.

We had used our steam to make the journey through the Canal, and so we

determined to steam for the next twelve hours, at least, in order to

show our heel to Egypt as soon as possible.

Heading slowly down the harbor we were surprised at being hailed by a

small government launch flying the Egyptian flag, which pressed close to

our side, while an officer in uniform stood up and gesticulated wildly

toward us.

“What’s wanted?” asked Captain Steele, leaning over the rail.

“Stop! Wait!” cried the fat officer, brokenly. “I must come on board.”

“Hike along, then,” called my father, but made no signal to stop the

engines.

We were moving very slowly, for we had to steer clear of the numerous

craft anchored in the harbor, so the launch grappled our side and Ned

let down a ladder which the official clutched and swarmed overboard with

surprising agility.

“Stop! Go back!” he shouted, as soon as he reached the deck. “This ship

is the ship _Seagull_; it is arrest—you are all arrest!”

“What for?” demanded the Captain.

“I have instruction from his Excellency the Minister of Finance to stop

you. You must not leave Egypt, he say. You have treasure on

board—treasure contraband to the Egyptian Government.”

We stared at one another aghast. How in the world had this information

come to the ears of the government? and what should we do—what _could_

we do—in this emergency? Arrest and confiscation first, and a legal

battle to follow! We shuddered even to contemplate such a difficulty.

“Crowd on full steam, Tomlinson,” said Captain Steele to the Chief

Engineer, who stood beside him. The man saluted with a smile and retired

to obey.

“As for you,” continued my father, turning to the officer, “I advise you

to get back to your boat in double quick time. We’ve got our papers, in

reg’lar fashion, and we’re free American citizens. You can’t arrest us a

single minute—you or your whole blamed Egyptian outfit.”

“But I command! You are under my arrest! You are criminal!” screamed the

fat man, stubbornly. “In the name of——”

“In the name of Sam Hill, throw the cuss overboard!” roared the Captain,

losing all patience.

To my horror Ned promptly obeyed and the pompous official tumbled over

the rail head first and disappeared with a splash in the water below.

Those in the launch shouted excitedly and let go our side to rescue

their superior. He bobbed up a minute later and they grabbed him with a

boat-hook and drew him, dripping and gasping, aboard their boat.

But it was too late for them to board us again. Our propeller was by

this time whirling rapidly and churning the water into a creamy streak

in our wake. Slowly we drew away from the government boat, which puffed

after us at its best gait, the inmates shaking their fists at us

threateningly but in vain. Presently we lost sight of them altogether in

the gloom, for twilight was fast falling.

Out into the blue waters of the great Mediterranean we sped and I for

one greeted the expanse gratefully. We had narrowly escaped a serious

disaster, for if the Khedive had once gripped our hard-won treasure we

should never have set eyes on it again. Also we might have found

ourselves and our ship hopelessly compromised in the meshes of Egyptian

law.

We headed for the southwest point of the island of Sicily, for we dared

not undertake to pass the straits of Messina. This way would also bring

us sooner to Gibraltar, and we determined to head our course between

Tunis and Sicily, out of the beaten path of ships, and to keep away from

any port until we were afloat on the broad Atlantic.

All night our engines throbbed powerfully and we sped swiftly on our

course. By morning we began to feel we were out of danger, and at

breakfast I decided that during the forenoon we would open the canvas

sacks and take a good look at our treasure. But while we still sat at

table the mate came down with a grave face to report that a man-o’-war

had just been sighted and was bearing down on us.

We rushed eagerly on deck to inspect the boat through our glasses and

made her out easily enough. She was a big armored cruiser, heavily

armed, and seemed intent on heading us off.

“But we may be more scared than hurt,” remarked my father, calmly. “All

nations have men-o’-war in these waters, and it ain’t a bit strange we

should run across one. Like as not she won’t mind us at all.”

“But the course she’s headed won’t take her to any port in creation,”

observed Ned, shaking his head dolefully. “She’s after the _Seagull_,

sure enough.”

It really looked that way, and we stood with bated breath and watched

the huge hulk come on. It would be folly to try to run away; still we

did not pause an instant.

In an hour she was less than a mile to leeward, and soon we saw a puff

of smoke followed by a shot that flew singing across our bow. At the

same time she hoisted her flag peak and Ned took a look at it through

his glass.

“Egypt,” he said, laconically, and my heart sank like a chunk of lead.

“The jig’s up, fellows,” I said, mournfully. “Joe, my lad, you’ve been

rich for nearly a whole day. To-night you’ll be a pauper again.”

Joe grinned, but not with a pleasant expression, and turned away to

vanish below deck. I was really sorry for the poor chap—and sorry for

ourselves, too.

“Never mind,” said Archie, consolingly; “we’ve had a lot of fun, anyhow.

The Khedive can’t rob us of that.”

As Captain Steele hesitated to obey the first shot a second one quickly

followed, and this came so near to piercing the hull of his beloved

_Seagull_ that my father uttered a gruff explanation and ordered Ned to

lay to. The engines were stopped and slowly we lost way and floated

quietly upon the sea, which was smooth as a mill-pond. The sky was

overcast with a mantle of solid gray and not a breath of wind was

stirring.

Had we not been so preoccupied with other matters I am sure we would ere

this have been speculating on the queer atmospheric conditions that

prevailed, and wondering what they might portend.

The cruiser slowed up near by and lowered a gig, which was speedily

manned. Then, being rowed with admirable precision, it shot across the

space which separated us and came alongside. We threw out a boarding

ladder and two officers climbed it and a minute later stood upon our

deck, where they inquired courteously for the Captain. They were

fine-looking fellows, middle-aged and with an air of breeding. Their

duty, whatever it might be, would doubtless be performed in a

gentlemanly manner.

My father advanced to announce that he commanded the _Seagull_ and would

be glad to know by what authority he was arrested on the high seas.

Said the elder of the two: “You resisted an officer of the Egyptian

government in the harbor of Port Said, and escaped. We consider you

still our prisoner, although you have fled into neutral waters.”

“My papers are regular, sir, and you have no right to arrest me or to

fire upon my ship,” returned my father, boldly. “If you persist in your

illegal and high-handed course, sir, you will make this an international

affair,” he added.

“There is little danger of that, Captain Steele,” answered the officer,

with a smile. “It may be we have exceeded our authority in arresting you

here; but kindly permit me to state our case. In Egypt you dug up a

treasure—an important treasure—which you are now carrying away in

defiance of our laws. We should not have permitted your ship to clear

our port, I admit, but unfortunately we did not receive the news of your

misdemeanor in time to prevent by force your escape. However, we do not

intend to be robbed. Our instructions from the Minister of War at Cairo

are positive. We are told to recover the treasure or send your ship to

the bottom of the sea—or to do both, at our discretion. The matter of

legality we will not discuss. We have the power to take this treasure if

you refuse to give it up cheerfully, and I assure you we will do so.

That is all. I await your decision, Captain.”

Well, there was nothing for us to do but give up the treasure. If we

tried to withhold it we would lose both the treasure and the _Seagull_.

We held a short conference, however, Uncle Naboth, Ned and Archie being

present besides my father and myself. Joe was also an interested

partner, but was not on deck and we had no time to hunt him up.

We decided there was but one way out of our difficulty. The American

government would scarcely support us in a claim for damages, under such

peculiar circumstances; and this the clever Turks knew as well as we

did.

The thing that most amazed us was the accuracy of their information, and

we wondered who could have revealed to the government the fact that we

had secured the treasure. Abdul Hashim was dead, but some of his tribe

might have learned our secret and reported it to the authorities in

order to obtain vengeance for their sheik’s death. Or the villagers of

Laketa, who had seen the treasure in Gege-Merak’s possession, might have

disclosed the information. We did not suspect Ketti for a moment.

Anyway, the mischief was out and it only remained for us to give up the

treasure and make our way homeward somewhat the poorer for our

unsuccessful enterprise.

“Pardon me, gentlemen, if I ask you to make haste,” said one of the

Turkish officers, stepping to our side. “The simoon is threatening both

our ships, so we are anxious to finish our errand and be gone.”

Indeed, the day had grown suddenly darker and the sea sighed audibly,

although it was perfectly still. My father looked anxiously at his bare

rigging and hurried away to give an order for additional security. Ned

followed him, and Uncle Naboth turned to me and said, with almost a

groan:

“Give ’em the treasure, Sam, an’ let’s be done with the blamed Egyptians

forever.”

I bowed to the officer.

“If you will come below you shall have it,” I said; “but you’d better

get a couple of your men to help carry it.”

He went to the side and shouted an order, and two of the men from the

gig sprang on deck. I took them to my stateroom, threw open the lid of

the great chest and said:

“There, gentlemen, is the entire treasure, including the rolls of

papyrus. If you doubt that it is all here, you are welcome to search the

ship.”

They lugged it all away and I sighed to think we had never obtained so

much as one good view of the plunder we had been at so much pains to

gain. The canvas sacks still bore the original seals which Van Dorn had

placed upon them in the desert beside the pit.

When the last sack was in the boat they did delay to search the ship, to

my extreme disgust. But their search was hasty and perfunctory, and

after visiting the other cabins and peering into the forecastle and

galley—as if we would keep treasure hidden in such places!—they finally

got into the gig to return to their ship. I demanded a receipt, but they

refused to give one, mumbling that the threatening simoon was likely to

strike us any minute.

And then they cast off and rowed away toward their own vessel, making

such speed as they could; but unfortunately they had delayed too long.

The simoon struck us like a blow and the _Seagull_ keeled over at a

dangerous angle and trembled through every beam.

As I clung desperately to the rail my eyes followed the Turkish gig, and

I saw its prow rise from the water as the whirling cloud of mingled wind

and sand caught it, and dump its occupants—officers, men and all—into

the now seething flood. Yes, the treasure went, too—the priceless

historic papyri, the golden ornaments and splendid jewels of the great

priests of Karnak—all, all were swallowed up by the waters and vanished

forever from the sight of men!

The wrecked gig was only a mass of splinters. They shot life-lines from

the deck of the cruiser and these were clutched by those of the boat’s

crew who rose again to the surface. But I cannot say how many of those

ill-fated Turks were finally rescued. For we had our own ship’s safety

to look after, and when the dreadful simoon had subsided, which it did

as suddenly as it had appeared, but after several hours of terror, the

Khedive’s man-o’-war was but a dim speck upon the horizon, and soon we

had lost sight of her altogether.

When, the strain being at last over, we met together in the main cabin

for supper, it was a dismal enough lot of faces that surrounded the

table. Except Joe. Joe did not seem dismal at all. He smiled upon us

most cheerfully, until we all hated the boy for his good nature under

such trying circumstances.

No one, however, cared to mention our great loss—which was in everyone’s

mind—except Archie, who growled out:

“Why in thunder couldn’t the simoon have arrived an hour or so earlier,

before we were robbed?”

But we chose not to heed the wail. Fate has her own way of ordaining

things.

I rose abruptly and passed into my cabin, and to my surprise Joe

followed. As he lighted my lamp and turned up the wick so that it

illumined the room brightly, I heard him whistling softly to himself.

The boy annoyed me, and I turned upon him rather savagely.

“You seem quite content to have lost your inheritance,” said I; “but the

rest of us are not so well satisfied. Can’t you try to respect our

feelings?”

He grinned at me most provokingly.

“Strikes me we’ve got something yet to be thankful for, sir,” he

replied. “The Turks didn’t bag so much treasure as they thought they

did.”

I stared at him with sudden interest.

“What do you mean, Joe?”

He stepped to my bunk and drew back the curtains. Then he threw aside

the blanket and disclosed the berth heaped full with glittering jewels

and golden ornaments that sparkled brightly under the clear rays of the

lamp.

My cry brought the others running hastily into the room, but as their

gaze followed my own and fell upon the mass of treasure they stood mute

and still, filled with a wonder that fairly dulled their senses.

At last Uncle Naboth tumbled into a chair and began mopping his forehead

with his red silk handkerchief, and I awoke far enough to ask, in an

awed whisper:

“How did it happen, Joe?”

“Why, it was dead easy, Sam,” he replied with a laugh. “As soon as that

infernal gunboat fired at us I knew something had to be done to save the

treasure. So I ran down here and ripped open the seams at the bottom of

all those canvas sacks, and dumped about three-quarters of the contents

of each one of ’em into your berth. I left some of the stuff in the ends

of the sacks that were tied and sealed, so if the Egyptians opened any

of ’em they’d think they were still loaded all the way down with

jewelry. Then I had to fill up the spaces, and that was harder than

you’d think. I first chucked in all the old bits of iron and brass I

could find in the junk-chest; but that wasn’t near enough. So I ran to

the galley and got Bry to give me a lot of potatoes and a bag of beans.

With these I filled up the treasure sacks and then sewed up all the

seams again. It took some time to do this, and the only way I could hide

the treasure was to cover it up with this blanket and draw the curtains.

Mebbe I wasn’t scared stiff when the officers came down here! But they

never thought to search the bunk in this cabin, though they went through

all the others. I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t empty the bags entirely, for

they never opened any of ’em; but I thought it was best not to take too

many chances, and I guess we’ve saved about two-thirds of all the

treasure we brought from the desert—except, of course, the rolls of

writing, and those we didn’t care so much for, anyhow.”

By the time the boy had finished this speech he was the focus of all our

admiring eyes.

“Don’t worry about what’s lost, Joe,” said Uncle Naboth, earnestly.

“There’s enough left to make us all rich; an’ we owe it to your pluck

and wit—an’ to nothin’ else.”

“Three cheers for Joe!” yelled Archie, joyously.

“Pshaw!” said Joe, flushing red, “what else was there to do?”

Three weeks after we anchored safely in Boston harbor, and before many

days had passed Uncle Naboth’s prediction was amply fulfilled. The

proceeds of the treasure made us all, in our humble stations, “rich,”

and Joe’s share, being so much the largest, made him very rich indeed.

THE END.

Footnotes

[1]Pronounced “Gay-gay Maw-rock.”

[2]Boys—young men.

[3]Judge of the court.

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Transcriber’s note:

--Relocated some images closer to the corresponding text.

--Silently corrected obvious typographical errors; left non-standard

spellings and dialect unchanged.

The Boy Fortune Hunters in Egypt · 第 20 / 20 章