While yet in the air, Tom had seen a boat putting off from the yacht.
The vessel itself was no longer visible, concealed by the intervening
cliff; but the top of its mast, with Mr. Greatorex's ensign flying,
could just be seen. Towards this Tom led the way at full speed. To go
very fast was impossible over the rough ground, but moderate as the pace
was it soon began to tell upon Schwab, who plunged heavily along,
tripping over tussocks of coarse grass that grew here and there on the
sandy soil. Fierce pants could be heard by the two running side by side
in front of him, though, in spite of his breathlessness, he managed to
give utterance every now and again to agonizing entreaties that the
others would not desert him. Moved by these, and remembering the
German's game leg, the others waited for him, and catching each an arm,
hurried him along between them.
Terror lent him strength and speed when the foremost of the pursuers,
arriving at the brink of the ravine, which at that point they were
unable to cross, began to fire upon the fugitives. Bullets whistled
past, alarmingly near, and Tom and Oliphant instinctively released
Schwab's arms and moved apart, so as to present a smaller target to the
enemy. Meanwhile some of the Moors had galloped up the bank of the
ravine in search of a crossing. Glancing round, Tom was concerned to see
that these horsemen had disappeared; presumably they had found a
suitable crossing-place, and would soon again be on his tracks. In a few
moments they reappeared on the nearer bank, and set off at a gallop.
The Englishmen were now about a quarter of a mile from the shore, Schwab
having dropped nearly a hundred yards behind, with another quarter-mile
between him and the horsemen. There could be little doubt that the
fugitives would be overtaken before they reached the edge of the cliff.
Even if they contrived to scramble down they might be snapped up under
the eyes of the yacht's crew, should not the boat have arrived. And what
of the Moors who a day or two ago, when Tom left the place, had been
encamped in the hollow of the cliff? Were they still there?
The question was answered almost as it occurred. Tom suddenly noticed a
horseman making towards him from the left, followed closely by a dozen
others. It was with a gasp of amazement that he recognized in the
foremost rider no other than Abdul. He came up at a breakneck pace,
sprang from his horse, and joined himself to the fugitives. Immediately
afterwards the Moors were upon the little party. Leaping from their
horses while still in full career, they threw themselves upon the four,
and though Tom and Oliphant each with a blow from his fist felled a man,
and Schwab threatened the vengeance of the Kaiser, they were overwhelmed
and flung to the ground.
The Moors shouted with exultation, their cries being answered jubilantly
by the horsemen coming up from the ravine. They were beginning to bind
their captives; but before a single knot could be tied there came other
shouts from the direction of the sea.
"At them, men; bowl 'em over!"
Surely this was the voice of Mr. Greatorex! A lusty British cheer
answered him. With a great effort Tom threw off the Moor who was pinning
him down, and sprang to his feet in time to see a dozen sturdy seamen
rushing from the edge of the cliff. The Moors turned at bay, but nothing
could withstand the charge of the British tars, wielding their clubbed
rifles like flails. In a few seconds half of the Moors were on the
ground with more or less broken heads; the rest were in full flight.
But the other troop of horsemen was now not more than a few hundred
yards distant. At a word from Captain Bodgers the sailors flung
themselves face downwards, ready to deal with the second band.
"Aim at the horses!" cried Mr. Greatorex, as he came panting up in the
rear of his men, and flopped down beside them.
A scattered volley brought half a dozen of the advancing horsemen to the
dust. The rest, unable, owing to the rugged uneven ground, to see with
what force they had to contend, reined up and hesitated. Another volley
caused them to draw off to some little distance, where they formed a
group and began to discuss how to retrieve this unexpected check.
"Now for the boat, my lads!" cried Mr. Greatorex.
Up sprang the men, and the whole body made a dash down the cliff. Before
the Moors had agreed upon their course, the fugitives were half-way
down. Seeing now by how few men they had been checked, the Moors came
after them at full speed. But by the time they reached the edge of the
cliff and dismounted the fugitives were at the bottom.
At that moment there was a report and a puff of smoke out at sea, and a
shot, purposely aimed high, flew over the cliff, and fell a little to
the rear of the Moors. That was the finishing stroke. Their horses
stampeded and dashed straight for the ravine, the riders in wild pursuit
behind them. Three minutes afterwards Mr. Greatorex had his whole party
in the boat, and the sailors, with a final rousing cheer, pulled for the
yacht.
Tom saw everything in a mist as he went aboard. Worn out with the
exertions and excitements of the past few days, he was only vaguely
conscious of being fussed over, and treated, as he said afterwards, more
or less as a baby. He was put to bed, slept heavily for several hours,
and awoke with a most exigent hunger. The yacht was in motion. He rose,
bathed, put on some clean things, and, feeling himself again, thankfully
obeyed Mr. Greatorex's hearty call to dinner.
Around the well-spread table he found the rest of the party already
seated. At the head was Mr. Greatorex, with Sir Mark Ingleton at his
right; at the foot, Captain Bodgers with Herr Schwab. The German had
tucked his napkin between his shirt and his waistcoat, and was gazing
with ecstatic anticipation through his glasses at the covered entrée
dishes just brought in by Timothy.
Tom was taken aback, and not a little moved, when Sir Mark Ingleton rose
from his seat, and, grasping his hand, said--
"Thank you, Mr. Dorrell. I have heard the whole story from Mr. Greatorex
and your Moorish follower. It is not for me to speak of the public
service you have rendered; personally, I owe you more than I can say,
and I shall never forget it."
"So!" chimed in Schwab, rising stiffly from his chair. His left hand
gripped his fork; his right enveloped Tom's. "I zank you, for myself
personaliter, and for ze Kaiser, for Schlagintwert, and for Business.
Fill my glass, if you please," he added to Timothy, whose smile
instantly changed to a frown--"I vish to cry 'Hoch!' No, no, not too
full, for ze ship moves, and ze champagne vould slop over."
Schwab's intervention came in the nick of time to relieve Tom's
embarrassment.
"Come, Tom, my _dear_ fellow," cried Mr. Greatorex, "_sit_ down. We were
only waiting for you."
"Where's Oliphant?" asked Tom.
"Hm! _M'Cracken_ is at the furnace," replied Mr. Greatorex.
"I say! That's rough luck!" said Tom.
"It is by his own wish. I did violence to my sense of what is _right_
and _proper_, and invited him to a place at our board. He showed, I must
say, a commendable sense of his _duty_ in the matter. 'I'm M'Cracken and
your stoker, sir,' he said, 'till we get back to England.'"
"May I suggest," said Sir Mark Ingleton, "that a sense of the unfitness
of his attire also weighed with him?"
"We can soon alter that," said Tom. "He's about my build; I'll go and
rig him out in one of my suits."
"Ve shall not vait to begin?" said Schwab anxiously, holding knife and
fork upright on the table.
"Mr. Oliphant will doubtless pardon us," replied Sir Mark blandly.
In a quarter of an hour Tom returned with Oliphant in white ducks and
blue serge.
"Still is zere somezink left," said Schwab. "I feel moch better, zough I
vish ze table vould not move. Do not fill your glass quite full, sir; it
vould slop over, and zat vould be pity."
"Where's Abdul?" asked Tom, as he sat down.
"With the men, forward," said Mr. Greatorex.
"That's all right. I'm jolly glad he got off safely."
"A most intelligent youth," said Sir Mark. "It appears that he rode
straight into the village of Salaam son of Absalaam with an urgent
demand for assistance from the sheikh of Ain Afroo. He was leading a
party of Moors in that direction when unluckily a genuine messenger from
the sheikh arrived. Abdul wheeled about and galloped for the shore, with
the rest at his heels, as you saw."
"Shust in time," said Schwab. "Vun moment after, and I am no more."
"I haven't heard your story yet, sir," said Tom to the envoy.
"Story, bless you, I have none to tell. I was on my way to Marrakesh,
where the Sultan was at the time, and was indiscreet enough one evening
to leave my camp for a stroll with only one attendant. I was snapped up,
enveloped in a djellab, and conveyed on horseback--to my great
discomfort--to the sheikh's kasbah. There I had the good fortune to meet
Mr. Schwab, whose conversation, together with a Schlagintwert price list
and a copy of the _Daily Mail_, helped to lighten the tedium of my
captivity."
"I zank you, Sir Ingleton," said Schwab. "Alvays do I vish to be useful.
_Utile et dulce._ You vill not forget vat I say about extra-special
discount to ze nobility and gentry? And I hear viz surprise, sir," he
added to Oliphant, "zat you are son of a lord. Viz gompliments!"
He handed Oliphant a card from his case.
"Much obliged," said Oliphant, kicking Tom under the table. "How did
they get hold of _you_?"
"Vy, I tell you. I come to Rabat to buy great lot of carpets for
Schlagintwert. Zere I hear zat ze Sultan is at Marrakesh, and I zink I
shall visit him. I egzpect big order for alarm clocks and bianola. Zat
vill be good business. Ach! vat know ze Mohrs of business? Zey seize me;
zey care nozink ven I say I am Jarman sobjeck; zey understand nozink ven
I speak of our Kaiser who is in Berlin; and so am I shut opp. I smoke
all my tobacco; zere is no more. I read ze _Daily Mail_, and zink ven I
gontemblate ze advertisement vat colossal business is literature in
England. I read Schlagintwert's price list, and make notes for new
edition; alas! zat muss all be done again. Zen I do nozink but zink
profound, until Sir Ingleton come and ve study ze list togezer."
"An experience I shall always cherish, believe me, Mr. Schwab," said Sir
Mark.
"I zank you, sir. Ze pleasure vas mutual; ze profit shall be
Schlagintwert's."
"But how was it you were put in the dungeons?" asked Tom.
"Vy, I tell you. Vun day come ze sheikh viz his men. Zink I, now has
arrive ze Kaiser's telegram. But no; zey carry us down to ze deps, and
zere are ve shut opp vorse zan before!"
"That was when they got the message from Salathiel ben Ezra, no doubt,"
said Tom,"--the Jew you found in the cave, Mr. Schwab."
"Ven I vas so hungry!"
"I wonder what has become of him?" said Oliphant. "It's to him I owe the
keenest sport I've ever had."
"The less said about that the _better_, M'C--I beg your pardon--Mr.
Oliphant. The man was a _villain_. I _said_ so, Tom. Timothy will have a
_scar_ for the rest of his days. And but for the Jew we shouldn't have
lost our airship. Not that that matters. We've _proved_ it, you know;
we'll build a larger one now."
"And Schlagintwerts shall buy it cost price!"
"No, sir, Schlagintwerts shall _not_ buy it," said Mr. Greatorex,
frowning severely on the German. "We will offer it to the Government. I
shall invite Colonel Capper to examine it, and Lord Langside, I trust,
will show himself sufficiently sensible of his obligation to us to make
no difficulties about the _price_."
"Vell, Schlagintwert shall have colossal order for Photographic
Sensitizer Preparation Number Six--at least until ze var come."
"_What_ war?"
"Vy, ze var ven ze Kaiser shall zink it is time to teach ze vorld zat----"
"Stay, Mr. Schwab," interrupted Sir Mark, "we must not be indiscreet. As
a diplomatist it is my duty to avert war; as a business man you, I am
sure, would deplore it."
"So. Zat is shust vat I alvays say: zat is vat I go to say ven you
interrup me; ven ze Kaiser shall zink it is time to teach ze vorld zat
Business are Business!"