The G.A. Henty MEGAPACK ®. G.a. Henty Henty
becomes sensible and wants anything, here is some money, and one of you can get food from the village, but beyond some fresh fruit to make him a cooling drink with, he is not likely to need anything. I shall return at once and enter the town by the Boulak gate as soon as it is open. I heard in the town that there were three or four hundred prisoners taken, and that they were confined in the citadel, and would be tried in the morning. The first thing to do is to find out if Sidi is among them, in which case I shall do all in my power to save him. Pour a little water over my hands, Ali. Wait a moment,” and he took up a double handful of the sandy soil, “now pour it on to this. I must get rid of these blood-stains.”
After a vigorous rubbing with the wet sand his hands were, as far as he could see in the moonlight, clean, and with a few last words to the men, he started back for the city. It was with difficulty that he made his way to the spot where the horses had been left. It had been a terrible twenty-four hours, with their excitements and emotions, and he had lost a good deal of blood from the flesh wound in his arm. The gray light was just stealing over the sky when he arrived there, and he threw himself down on a secluded spot a short distance from his old camping-ground, and slept for a couple of hours. Waking, he went to the hut, by the side of which the horses were tethered. He and Sidi had spoken several times to the man who lived there, and he possessed two donkeys which worked for hire in the city.
“You do not recognize me?” he said.
The man shook his head.
“I am one of the young Arabs who were staying in the little tent close by. You see I am in disguise. It was not safe to be in the city yesterday in Arab dress, nor is it to-day.”
“Of course I remember you now,” the man said. “Where are those to whom the horses belong?”
“They are not likely to come here to-day. A friend of theirs was wounded in the fight at Fort Dupres, and they have found him and carried him off. I have been with them. Tell me, is there any blood on my face?”
The man shook his head.
“Now I want you to go to one of the shops near the gate and get food for me. It matters not what it is some kabobs, or a pillau, or anything they may have, and a large bowl of milk. I am faint and weary. Here is money.”
In a quarter of an hour the man returned, and Edgar, after eating a hearty breakfast and drinking a quart of milk, felt greatly better.
He now entered the town. There were no signs of renewed fighting, and listening to the talk of the officers near the headquarters, he gathered that Bonaparte had granted a pardon to the inhabitants, but that the prisoners taken in the attack on Fort Dupres, among whom were many of those most deeply concerned in the rising, were to be tried at ten o’clock by court-martial, and that probably a great part of them would be shot.
CHAPTER VII
SAVED
Hiring a donkey, for he still felt weak, Edgar rode out to the citadel. He found the town gate open, as Napoleon, to show his contempt for the population and his perfect confidence that they would not venture to rise again, had ordered everything to go on as usual. Paying the donkey-boy when within a short distance of the citadel, he sat down on a block of stone a little way off the road, and waited for the hour when the court-martial was to open. From what he had heard in the square he was afraid that the Arab prisoners would all be among those sentenced to death, as the general opinion was that a stern lesson was needed in their case, as they had, with the exception of those dwelling near Alexandria, proved themselves bitterly hostile to the French.
“I am afraid that I shall have to lie,” he said to himself. “I hate that, and I would not do it for myself, but the lie will hurt no one and may save Sidi. Anyhow I won’t tell more than I can help.”
During the two hours that he sat there he made up his mind as to the story that he should tell. As the hour approached, several French officers of rank rode into the citadel. He saw a few people go in on foot, but all were questioned by the sentry at the gate. A few minutes before ten he went up.
“You cannot pass without an order,” the sentry said in French.
“I wish to speak to the officer,” Edgar replied in a mixture of French and Italian. “I am a witness. I have to give evidence at the trial of one of the scelerats.”
The sentry called a non-commissioned officer, who, after speaking a few words to him; entered the guard-house near the gate, and an officer came out.
“What do you want to come in for?” he asked.
“I have evidence to give, monsieur, for one who is, I believe, among the prisoners. He is, like myself, but a lad; but he saved my life from one of those villains of rioters, and slew him with his own hand, when my employer, Signor Pancherasi, and two other of his assistants were killed by them. I would urge this in his favour.”
“Well, it is but fair that you should be heard;” and calling a soldier from the guard-house, he told him to accompany Edgar to the spot where the court-martial was to be held, and to inform the officer in charge of the prisoners that the lad desired to give evidence in regard to one of them.
Thanking the officer, Edgar went up with the soldier into the great quadrangle. In one corner were a large number of prisoners, guarded by a line of soldiers with fixed bayonets. Three or four officers were standing on the steps in front of a large open door. One of them, as Edgar passed near, called out to his companion:
“Whom have you got there, my man?”
The soldier led Edgar up to the group, saluted, and stood at attention.
“He has come to give evidence for one of the prisoners, general.”
“It must needs be pretty strong evidence then,” the officer said, “considering that they were all taken when fighting against us. Well, my lad, who are you?”
“I do not speak French well, monsieur: Italian is my language. My name is Giovanni Baptista. I was in the employ of Signor Pancherasi, who sold goods of our country in the broad street leading up from the square of El-Esbekieh, where your soldiers beat the Arabs yesterday.”
“I recognize the young fellow,” one of the officers said. “He rushed out, half out of his mind with joy, as I rode past at the head of the column. Well, go on, lad. Tell us what you have got to say.”
“Well, monsieur, an Arab boy saved my life when the others were killed. One had fired at me, and the bullet went through my arm, when the Arab, who had some of his people with him, sprang forward, and just as the man was going to rush at me with his scimitar he sprang upon him and stabbed him between the shoulders. I do not remember much more, for I was frightened; but there was a quarrel between him and his Arabs and the others. I think I fainted. When I came to I was alone with the bodies of my master and comrades, and there I remained in hiding until your troops came along.”
“But why should this Arab have interfered in your behalf?”
“A few days before, sir, I was going with a parcel of my master’s goods through one of the narrow lanes, when I saw two rough men ill-treating an Arab boy. He seemed to be the son of a sheik, and they were trying to rob him and he resisted, and seeing that he was a boy like myself, I shouted at the top of my voice for aid, and ran in with my knife. Then we fought for a minute, but doubtless it would have gone hard with us, had not two of your soldiers, who heard me shouting, come running up, and the men then took to their heels. The young Arab said that his father would show his gratitude to me for having aided him, but I had not heard of him again until, hearing our cries, he ran in with some other Arabs, and, as I have said, saved me from death.”
“Let me look at your wound?” the general said. Edgar took off his coat and showed the blood-stained bandage.
“Well, you can look among the prisoners and see if your friend is here. If he is, when you see him brought in you must come in and repeat your story. By the way, how did you understand what this Arab said about his father?”
“I have been out here some years, monsieur, and can speak a little Arabic.”
“Well,