THE PARTING OF FRIENDS
Charlie picked up the letter and read it out.
"Dear Helmar,
"I could not continue the journey as we have been going on. I did
not want to rob you of your money, but you gave me the opportunity
of borrowing sufficient to take me where I wish to go. At some
future date I will return it with interest. Good-bye, and good luck
to you. We shall meet again some day.
"Mark Arden."
Having read and re-read the brief note, Osterberg silently returned
it to his friend. His face wore a troubled expression, and, as soon
as Helmar had paid the messenger, he burst out into a torrent of
invective.
"The lying scoundrel! Oh, George, I am so sorry I asked to bring
him. It is all my fault--and I thought him honest. I can never
forgive myself!" And the boy broke off, choking with anger and
vexation.
"Never mind him," exclaimed George, placing the letter carefully in
his pocket. "Some day, no doubt, we shall find him, and then--well,
we shall see! In the meantime, I have still enough, with care, to
take us to Egypt, and then we must trust to luck."
They went to their hotel, sadder and wiser youths. The thought of
Mark's treachery weighed more heavily on them than either cared to
acknowledge. George, with the independence of character essentially
his, was the first to throw the unpleasant feeling off. They were
sitting in the little room they had rented, their frugal meal
finished and thoughts of bed already possessing them. Suddenly
Charlie looked over to his friend.
"George, I'm going to stop in Constantinople for some time."
"Why," exclaimed Helmar, "whatever for?"
Charlie paused for a moment before answering.
"It's no use beating about the bush. You have scarcely enough money
for yourself, and I've made up my mind that I will not sponge on
you. I've thought it all out, and do not think there will be any
difficulty in what I intend doing. You know I speak French and
English well. My intention is to find employment in one of the
banks, or big commercial houses, in Constantinople, and remain there
until I have saved sufficient money to join you."
"You'll do no such thing! It was agreed that you should share with
me all that I have, and I want you to come. Now, don't be foolish,"
as Charlie shook his head, "you _must_ come!"
"No, old fellow, I will not--at least, not yet. My mind is quite
made up, so it is no use your frowning. I shall accept your
hospitality as far as Constantinople, and then, for a few weeks, we
must part."
Helmar argued and tried to persuade, but all to no purpose; young
Osterberg was as determined as he, and, on this particular point,
nothing could move him. At length it was decided that they should
journey, on the morrow, to Constantinople, whence George should sail
at once for Alexandria, leaving his young friend at the Turkish
capital.
The following morning they went aboard the little coasting vessel,
and were soon on the last stage of their journey together.
On the way the two friends made the acquaintance of a doctor, who,
discovering that Helmar was a medical student, took a keen interest
in them. The medical man was an English army surgeon, and
notwithstanding the difference of nationality his fancy was taken by
the young adventurers, and, by the time they reached their
destination, he had succeeded in discovering their intentions.
During the voyage Helmar had been very useful to his new friend in
assisting him in the case of one of the passengers who had been
taken ill, and, in return, Dr. Frank Dixon determined to try and do
something for him. One evening they were sitting in the cabin,
talking.
"Didn't you say our young friend here," said the doctor, indicating
Charlie, "was going to remain in Constantinople if he could find
employment?"
"Yes," answered Helmar, with a grimace, "much against my will, that
is his intention."
"And a very laudable decision, too. I think it would be a great
shame for him to let you spend what little money you have on
anything but your own wants. Now, I may be of some help to him. I
happen to be an intimate friend of the manager of one of the banks,
and can give him a letter to him which, I feel sure, will secure him
employment."
"You are awfully kind," broke in Charlie. "If you could do so,
without troubling yourself too much, it would save me a good many
hardships, but I should never be able to thank you sufficiently."
"Tut-tut," said the doctor, smiling at the eager young face before
him, "it is nothing; besides, why should I not help you? I like
your independent spirit, and feel sure you will not betray my
confidence in you. Let me see, to-morrow we shall arrive. I'll tell
you what to do. Array yourself in your best, and I will write the
letter to-night and give it you before we land. I hope it may bring
you the luck you deserve. As for you, Helmar," he went on, turning
to the other, "you go on to Egypt. It will not be long before I am
there too; we are bound therefore to meet, and then perhaps I may be
of use to _you_. And now, good-night. I am going to turn in."
The friends wished their benefactor good-night, and retired to their
berths.
In the morning they drew into the dock. The doctor, true to his
promise, furnished Osterberg with a letter to the bank, to which
place he at once proceeded. Helmar accompanied him to see how he
fared.
Their luck was in, the letter secured Charlie a berth as
corresponding clerk, and Helmar, satisfied with his friend's
success, went at once to the shipping office and took his passage to
Alexandria.
The boat started at three in the afternoon, and so the two friends
spent their time in obtaining some new clothes for Osterberg, and
generally fitting him to enter upon his clerical duties. As the time
approached for Helmar's departure they made their way to the quay.
"I cannot say how long I shall stay in Alexandria, Charlie," said
Helmar, "but I shall let you know of my movements. In the meantime,
letters addressed to the Post Office will find me."
The warning bell rang, and George hurriedly shook his companion by
the hand.
"I shall not be long in following you, old chap," said Charlie,
pressing his friend's hand. "Give me a few weeks, or even a month or
two, just long enough to get a little money together, and I'll be
with you. Good-bye, and good luck."
Helmar ran up the gangway. Reaching the deck, he turned and waved
his hat while the moorings were cast off. Charlie stood watching the
receding boat until it was out of sight.
"There goes the man who has thrown up everything for me," he
muttered, with a pained expression in his eyes. "I don't think he'll
ever regret it. The greatest object of my life shall be to repay him
tenfold!" And he turned away into the town.
George Helmar did not pace the deck, as most modern heroes do, for
his passage was steerage, and there was very little deck for him to
promenade. Just at first he was low-spirited, he felt the loneliness
of his own company, everything seemed different without the bright
companionship of his friend beside him. He felt keenly leaving
Europe, and all the associations of the land of his birth. He was
going to a country of which he knew nothing; he was about to face
adventures, the outcome of which it would be impossible to
anticipate. He might do well for himself, or on the contrary he
might be a failure. All these things passed through his mind in the
first few moments of depression that followed his departure, as he
found himself cooped up in the unpleasant quarters of the steerage
passengers.
He was a man of strong determination, however, and quickly threw off
his despondent mood, and busied himself with plans for the future.
He pictured no glorious El Dorado in the country to which he was
journeying--he was much too sensible. He was aware that he would
have to work, and work hard, for whatever he was to make.
One fact he had not passed idly by. He knew that trouble was brewing
in Egypt; what it was he was not in a position to know. He had
heard, vaguely, that at any moment fighting was likely to occur,
and, if so, no doubt he would be in its midst; the very word "War"
held out a world of hope to his adventurous spirit. In such times,
he knew, there were no end of opportunities for the bold spirit,
and, such being the case, he had no intention of letting any such
chances pass unheeded.
Thoughts of his father and others he had left behind frequently
recurred to him, and he wondered what they would say of his doings.
At last he decided to write to all those whom his departure had
affected, and tell them everything as it had occurred. This done, he
felt more at his ease, and he gave himself up to the enjoyment of
the lovely sea air as the vessel sped through the smooth, blue
waters of the Mediterranean.
At last land was sighted, and in a short time Helmar put his foot on
Egyptian soil.
The quay was thronged with a motley, dirty crew, evidently gathered
there to await the arrival of the boat. The air was filled with the
yelling and chattering of Arabs and negroes. The crowd was composed
of all sorts of porters, hawkers offering their cheap wares for sale
at exorbitant prices, dirty donkey boys with their wretched "mokes"
looking even more starved and miserable than their owners. The
dresses were of many kinds, and in a great variety of colours, from
a dingy white to a bright scarlet. Close-fitting gowns and tunics,
long, highly-coloured flowing robes, turbans, or semi-European
clothing, with the usual Turkish fez, were scattered about in great
profusion, and Helmar was glad to jostle his way through them to
rest his eyes from the dazzling mixture. The many different tongues
that caught his ear, as he made his way through the crowd, confused
him terribly. Greek, Italian, French, English, Arabic, Turkish, and
Persian, all shouting at once, as it seemed to him, jarred on his
nerves, and he wondered if this pandemonium went on all over the
town.
Making his way from the docks, he wandered about from place to place
in search of quarters.
Failing to find what he wanted, he looked about for some
likely-looking Europeans to whom he could appeal for guidance. He
was chary of his countrymen abroad, and it was some time before he
came across the man he desired.
He was recommended to a certain Greek's house, and, after what
seemed an interminable day, he found to his satisfaction that here
he could make himself more or less comfortable.
The next morning he set about finding work of some sort. He wandered
about from street to street, gradually becoming more and more keenly
interested in all he saw. First the inhabitants, then the buildings,
attracted his attention. He watched the movements of the picturesque
Egyptians, and was so taken with what he saw that, unconsciously, he
found himself following them. This brought him again into the lower
quarters of the town. The streets in this neighbourhood, whatever
their redeeming charm, were certainly not to be recommended from any
hygienic point of view, the smell being so bad that he quickly lost
his interest in the wily native and hurriedly retraced his steps.
Reaching the great square, the "Place des Consuls," with its
masterful statue in the centre, he realized that the day was wearing
on, and, instead of looking for work, he had been "doing" the city
as a sightseer.
"This will not do," he thought. "I cannot spend the whole day
without result, my cash will soon give out. Cairo seems to my mind
to be the place I want, this is too near the sea. Ah, yes, Cairo,
Cairo!" he went on aloud, "that surely would suit my purpose
better. Why not go there at once, while I have money enough to pay
my way?"
Once the thought possessed him it quickly became a fixed intention,
and he hurried back to his room. Here he settled with the Greek, and
then left at once for the railway station.
The express was about to start, so purchasing a ticket he got
aboard, and in a few moments was on his way to Cairo.