"A Proper Lash Up"
FINDING himself covered by Webb's pistol, the Greek's companion
promptly extended both arms above his head as a token of surrender.
The fellow was attired in characteristic Bedouin dress. His face was
of a deep olivine, his features being partly concealed by a heavy
black beard and by the front of his burnous. In the folds of his
voluminous sash were thrust an automatic pistol, and a couple of
knives of Arab manufacture protected by sheaths of undressed leather.
"Take charge of that gentleman's armoury, old man," said Osborne. "It
seems most discourteous to deprive such a meek and mild old buffer of
his playthings, but needs must!"
Webb complied, dexterously removing the knives; but, just as he was
taking possession of the pistol, the latter slipped from his grasp
and clattered on the stone floor. With a deafening report one of the
cartridges exploded.
In a trice the wily Hymettus saw his chance and took it. With a swift
sideward movement he interposed the body of the Arab between himself
and the muzzle of Osborne's revolver; then turning, he dashed for a
narrow doorway with the Lieutenant in pursuit.
"About turn; off you go!" ordered Webb, unconsciously addressing his
prisoner in English. "No hanky-panky tricks, mind, or I'll shoot!"
He pointed to the opening through which the Greek and Osborne had
vanished. The Arab obeyed, still keeping his hands above his head.
The doorway opened upon the flat roof of the portico. Without was an
expanse of stone slabs, roughly fifty feet by ten. In front and on
one side a parapet of about thirty inches in height afforded
protection from a sheer drop of thirty feet to the ground. On the
remaining side no such wall existed, owing to the partial collapse of
the masonry. Where the portico had fallen, the face of the building
was pitted with holes, caused by the wrenching away of the dovetailed
stones. Each aperture formed a convenient foothold, and from this
hazardous path to safety Hymettus ran. Could he but make his
precarious way along the sheer face of the wall, comparative safety
awaited him, for beyond was a place where one man could defy a
hundred unless his assailants were provided with ladders.
But at the brink of the riven masonry the Greek paused irresolute.
The sheer drop had more terrors than the weapon of his pursuer.
Before he could finally make up his mind, Osborne, laying aside his
revolver, gripped him by the neck and laid him on his back.
Hymettus made no attempt at resistance, but the Lieutenant, mindful
of the previous encounter on Spanish territory, was taking no further
chances. With a sailor's deftness he bound the spy's arms behind his
back, and secured his ankles with a length of leather belt that
enabled the prisoner to make a stride of a bare eighteen inches.
"That's all serene," remarked Osborne with a tone of relief, as he
regained his feet and took possession of his revolver once more.
"Now, old man, we've a good ten miles to tramp, with two villainous
rascals for company."
"How about the camel?" enquired Webb.
"I haven't overlooked the fact," rejoined the Lieutenant. "It's not
much use to us as a mode of conveyance. After our meteor-like flight
from the backs of those donkeys, I don't fancy an aerial perch on a
ship of the desert. Humanitarian reasons won't permit us to leave the
beast to die of starvation in this sand-blown spot. We'll make the
Greek ride, and that white-livered Arab will conduct the brute. If
they attempt to sheer off--well, that's where our revolvers will come
in handy."
"And the wireless gear?" asked the Sub.
"Let it stop as evidence. The Royal Engineers will see to that
to-morrow. Now, best foot for'ard: it's a long, long way to
Alexandria."
To his unbounded relief Osborne convoyed the prisoners into the open.
He was unfeignedly glad to get clear of the frowning walls of the
ruined building, with its labyrinth of side passages and weird nooks
and crannies.
"Now then, don't lag," said Webb sharply, addressing the Arab, who
seemed loath to keep up with his fellow-prisoner.
The man shot a curious glance at his captor and stood stock-still.
"No, you don't," continued Webb, giving the prisoner a sturdy shove.
"We mean business, my bearded friend. Thank goodness I have a pistol
in my hand and you haven't. I wouldn't trust you with a halfpenny."
Thus urged, the Arab resumed his pace, until they came to the spot
where the camel was hobbled.
"I suppose the Greek hasn't any weapons concealed about him?"
enquired Webb.
"Trust me for that," was the Lieutenant's reply. "I passed my hands
over his carcass right enough. Now then, Ben Hazi Notion, or whatever
your tally happens to be, bear a hand and hoist this rascal up."
The Arab spoke a few words to the camel. The animal immediately
crouched on the ground.
"I say, this condemned nigger understands English," declared Osborne.
"He knew exactly what I said. Now, how far is it to Alexandria?" he
asked, addressing the Bedouin.
But the latter's face wore a mask of imperturbability. When the
question was repeated, he rolled his eyes and raised his hands with a
gesture of utter incomprehensibility.
"He must have guessed what I meant," commented Osborne as he signed
to the Arab to make the camel regain its feet.
Progress was tediously slow. The camel would not be hurried, while
the two Englishmen found that the sand was growing more and more
fatiguing to their feet as mile after mile was covered in the still
hot sunshine.
The Arab trudged stolidly, holding the gaily coloured head-rope of
the ship of the desert. At intervals the Greek would give furtive
glances around the horizon, as if he expected help to be forthcoming
from some quarter of the trackless desert.
By the time the weary officers reached the outskirts of the
cotton-fields the sun was low in the west, and the lengthening
shadows betokened the fact that soon it would be night. A few of the
felaheen peasants, still toiling, paused in their work to contemplate
the unusual spectacle of a couple of Englishmen trudging at the tail
end of a camel, while a Greek--there were many such in Alexandria
--rode, seemingly in indolent ease, upon the animal's back.
Ahead, silhouetted against the sky, could be discerned the lofty
lighthouse of Ras - el - Tin, dominating the slender minarets, and
the masts of the shipping in the harbour. Just then the still air was
rent by the shrill blast of a bugle. The sound was taken up in other
parts of the town, while, as if to emphasize the contrast,'twixt East
and West, the voices of the muezzins calling the Faithful to prayer
could be faintly distinguished amidst the warlike notes of the
bugles.
[Illustration: "PROGRESS WAS TEDIOUSLY SLOW"]
"I won't be sorry to have a jolly good meal and a rest," remarked
Osborne. "We'll have to be sharp if we are to get in before sunset.
With two slippery customers like these, our work will be cut out to
prevent them giving us the slip."
"It's only that Greek rascal that worries me," said Webb. "The other
fellow doesn't seem to have the courage of a worm, the sagacity of a
bat, or the energy of a snail. Hallo, here's a squad of 'Gippy
troops!"
Marching at the quick step affected by the native African troops, the
white-clad soldiers drew near, all but the leading files enveloped in
clouds of dust. At their head were two British officers in white
tropical uniforms, and wearing the scarlet tarboosh of the Egyptian
Government service.
Seeing the two naval men approach with their bound prisoners, the
officer in command ordered the troops to halt.
"Hallo, what game has he been up to?" enquired the Major, indicating
the secured Hymettus. "Trying to rob you, and caught a Tartar, eh?"
Briefly Osborne explained the situation, adding that he would be
greatly obliged if the prisoners could be handed over to the custody
of the military until the Lieutenant could report the facts to the
Senior Naval Officer.
"Certainly," was the reply. "I'll furnish a subaltern's guard. Mr.
Fordyce!"
"Sir!" replied an alert, bronzed Second-lieutenant.
"These two men are to be marched back under escort. See that they are
placed in the guard-room. You will be responsible for their safe
custody."
At an order from a tall, smiling-faced, native sergeant, who appeared
to take a delight in having a rascally Greek in his charge, Georgeos
Hymettus descended from his lofty perch. Surrounded by men with fixed
bayonets he was hurried off to a distance of fifty yards, while other
soldiers took up their position around the Arab prisoner.
The latter, now that his companion in misfortune was out of ear-shot,
addressed a few rapid sentences in Arabic to the British Major. Then,
to Osborne's and Webb's astonishment, the officer drew them aside, at
the same time halting the escort and signing to the Arab to follow.
"The courage of a worm, the sagacity of a bat, the energy of a snail,
by Jove! Gentlemen, I begin to feel particularly cheap."
Osborne stood stock-still, dumb with amazement. Webb, hardly able to
realize the situation, looked at the speaker with ill-disguised
astonishment. The utter surprise of being reminded of his own words,
by a man who appeared to be a genuine Bedouin, literally took the
wind out of his sails.
"Thanks for a very pleasant afternoon!" continued the disguised
prisoner. "It is indeed most unfortunate that your misplaced zeal
prompted you to raid friend Georgeos's secret wireless station. I've
been on his track for weeks. I may as well introduce myself as Major
Ferriter, of the Intelligence Staff. If necessary, my friend Major
Scott here will guarantee my _bona fides_."
"For weeks?" echoed Osborne. "Then why didn't you nab the spy before?
He must have been doing tons of mischief."
"Not so much as you have done by chipping in," replied Major
Ferriter. "Unwittingly, of course, but none the less unfortunate. I
assume that what I tell you will be treated in strict confidence. For
nearly two months the authorities have been aware of the Greek spy's
activities. He was shadowed from Barcelona to Athens, and thence to
Port Said. I was instructed to keep in touch with him, and as luck
would have it I succeeded. In this disguise I completely hoodwinked
him; lived with him; assisted him at his work of espionage--only I
took care to transmit the messages sent by wireless from the German
U-boats to the Eastern Mediterranean myself. It paid the Government
handsomely to let the fellow pursue his activities. It enabled us to
account for nearly a dozen hostile submarines, and now you've put the
hat on it all."
"Couldn't you arrange to escape with the spy?" enquired Osborne,
almost panic-stricken at the result of his unintentional blunder.
"Might," replied Major Ferriter. "Only Hymettus might smell a rat and
slip away to some more congenial atmosphere. I must think it over.
Now, Scott, I think you had better hand me over to the tender mercies
of your men. I must keep up the disguise a little longer, but for
goodness' sake, old man, see that I am smuggled out as soon as it is
safe to do so. After weeks of existence upon dates, pilau, and goats'
milk, I pine for the flesh-pots of civilization."
Osborne and his chum waited until the supposed Bedouin prisoner was
marched off under escort; then, bidding the infantry Major farewell,
they set off in the gathering darkness, to their quarters.
For some minutes they spoke not a word; but when at length the
Lieutenant broke the silence, his remark was brief, forcible, and to
the point:
"My word, old bird; what a proper lash up!"