The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
darted on board to find the Captain and two of the crew standing there.
"Quick, sir," he cried, and I realised the engine was going, Already he was casting off, and I shouted to him to stop. Once Molly was safe I had to go back to help Jim.
I took her below and laid her on the berth in her cabin. Then I rushed on deck again to find that we were in midstream.
"Orders, sir," said the Captain, coming up to me as I cursed him. "Orders from the Englishman with the eyeglass."
I looked ashore: the bank was alive with lights. The shouting had died away: the devils were running mute, searching for him. And then suddenly I heard the most welcome sound I have ever heard in my life—a great, hearty laugh—Jim's laugh.
"Stop the old tub, Dick," came his voice. "I'm damned if I'm going to swim to Cairo after you."
And then I saw him—swimming out towards us—saw his head reflected in the light from the bank. We went full speed astern, and half a minute later he swarmed up the side on a rope.
"Not a healthy spot, old Dick," he said with his hands on my shoulders. "Is the girl all right?"
"I think so, old man," I answered. "Thanks to you. But I feel all dazed still. How did you get there?"
"All in good time," he laughed. "At the moment a large whisky-and-soda is indicated."
We went into the saloon, and it was as my hand was on the syphon that a sudden awful thought struck me.
"Good God! Jim," I muttered. "The Professor. I'd forgotten all about him."
Jim's face grew very stern.
"You needn't worry about the Professor," he remarked grimly. "The gentleman I threw to the crocodile was not its first meal tonight."
"You mean they've killed him?" I said, staring at him foolishly.
"Yes, they've killed him," he answered. "And I can think of no white man who more richly deserved to die."
And as the boat chugged steadily on through the soft Egyptian night, Jim filled in the gaps of the story.
"I got the wind up, as you know," he began, "right from the very start. Of course I hadn't an inkling of the real truth when you left Cairo—but I was darned uneasy in my mind. And after you'd gone off in' this barge I started making a few inquiries."
He paused a minute and refilled his glass.
"Didn't it strike you, old man, that you got this dahabeah with exceptional promptitude?"
"Now you mention it—I suppose we did. It hadn't struck me before."
"The gentleman I put into the pool tonight fixed it, as he could fix most things when he put his mind to it. And on this occasion he fixed it as the result of the most diabolical bargain with Professor Gainsford which it is conceivable to think of a man making.
"Mark you, I didn't find it out in Cairo—but I heard enough to send me off by train. I got out at Minieh, and then the game began. It's a good trek from the railway station, and with every mile the reticence and secrecy grew more profound.
"But I got hold of a certain amount which confirmed what I'd heard in Cairo. A great event was portending—some huge tamasha: you know how these things get about amongst the natives.
"Then you arrived, and I came on board to see you and make you clear out. But you were none of you here, and the boat was deserted."
"We were up in the house itself," I explained.
He nodded. "I know. So I sat down to wait, as I knew there was no danger till later. And then, old Dick, they caught me napping. A native came to the bank and told me he'd tell me everything: that he'd just found out the truth. So I scribbled that note, and I followed him. He took me with great secrecy into the house, where someone promptly sandbagged me."
Jim laughed. "Me—at my age—sandbagged by a damned native! And when I came to I found myself trussed up like a fowl, occupying the next place to the skipper of this craft. He's not a bad little man—this skipper, and it was he who told me the truth.
"At first I could scarcely believe it—the bargain made between Professor Gainsford and the native he met in the bazaar. For the Professor had wished to obtain possession of some book of ritual belonging to this sect—a book unique in the world. And the native had agreed—at a price. The price was the sacrifice of your girl."
"What?" I roared. "You mean that that murderer brought Molly here knowing all along what was going to happen?"
"That is exactly what I mean," said Jim gravely. "Afterwards— well, I don't know if he worried much about afterwards. You were to be drugged—and for the rest the native guaranteed silence.
"That's what the Professor thought; unfortunately for him the native's mind is tortuous. The sacrifice of a white girl was his object, and he didn't mind what he promised to achieve the result. And having, as he thought, achieved it when you arrived, he changed his mind about the book of ritual. Which was unfortunate for the Professor."
He broke off suddenly and stared over my shoulder. Molly was standing in the door: Molly—sane and herself again—but with a look of terror in her eyes.
"Dick," she said, "I've had the most awful dream. It must have been seeing that crocodile yesterday. I dreamed that I was standing where we stood, and there were natives all round. And suddenly Uncle John appeared. He was screaming—and they dragged him in and pushed him over into the pool."
Jim and I looked at one another, and after a while he spoke.
"I'm afraid, Miss Tremayne," he said gently, "that it wasn't a dream. Professor Gainsford is dead."
She swayed to a chair and sat down weakly.
"Oh! the brutes—the brutes. Dick—why did we ever come here?" And then she stared at me with puzzled eyes. "But if it wasn't a dream—why, how did I see it? You don't mean to say—you can't mean that it wasn't a dream. That I was there, and saw it: that—that the rest of it was true as well. Dick! I can see you now, lying in that chair: those natives—and you, Mr. Maitland. My God! it hasn't really happened, has it?"
With dilated eyes she stared from one to the other of us, and after a while I went and knelt beside her.
"Yes, darling," I said gently, "it's all true. It's really happened. And but for Jim—" I looked across at him: there are things which no man can put into words.
"Rot," he cried cheerfully. "Utter rot, Dick. Though I admit it was touch and go till I found a sharp stone to cut through my ropes with. And now I think I'll leave you two for a bit."
He beckoned me to follow him on deck.
"I wouldn't tell her the truth, old man, about her uncle. At least—not yet."
In the light of the dawn I saw his face, and it was very wistful.
"She's a great girl, that—old Dick—great. You lucky, lucky devil."
And with that Jim turned on his heel and went forrard.
XI. — AN EXPERIMENT IN ELECTRICITY
WHICH might have been the end of it as far as we were concerned, only it wasn't. There was a sequel, and the sequel took place in Berkeley Square of all places.
Jim kept every hint of the possibility of such a thing to himself while we were still in Egypt: it was not till we were on board that he mentioned it to me. For Molly and I were going home to be married, and he was to be our best man. In another fortnight—a boiled shirt; a tail coat; London—
For me, at any rate, the days of wandering were over, and just as I was wondering how I'd like the change—a man can't help his thoughts— Jim, who was standing beside me, straightened himself up