A TIGHT CORNER

Following his new friend, George left the office. The spirit of adventure was fully upon him, and with his hand in his coat pocket, he gripped the weapon the inspector had given him, speculating in his mind as to what was the object of their night's work, and how their expedition would result. Evidently it was an affair of importance from the hesitation of the officer to enlist his services; instinctively he felt there was danger ahead.

Their direction again lay towards the low quarter of the city, and Helmar noted the familiarity and ease with which his guide wound his way through all the lanes, blind alleys, and courts that had so confused and puzzled him.

"I had better explain to you," said the inspector, after a few moments' silence, as they threaded their way along the narrow, dirty, evil-smelling streets, "what we are about to do. Being a stranger in the country, you probably are not aware that for some time past, meetings of a revolutionary character have been going on in nearly all the towns in Egypt. The fountain head of this movement is as yet undiscovered, as also is the ultimate object. Of one thing the authorities are assured, and that is, there is some terrible secret danger threatening the country, and the duty of our department is to watch, and, if possible, stop the work of this organization."

"Of what are the authorities afraid?" asked Helmar, as he listened with keen interest to his companion's explanations.

"I can't quite say. My own opinion is a native rising. There are several big Pashas the Government would not trust as far as they can see, and, for my part, I think nothing is more likely than that one of these should head a rebellion against the power of the Khedive."

"I see; and our work to-night is in connection with one of these meetings?"

"Exactly. The meeting is to be held at one of the lowest dives in the city, and its locality I have only to-night discovered; in fact, that was the business I was engaged upon when your timely aid saved my life."

"I see," exclaimed George; "but that attempt on you shows that these people are aware of your movements. The probabilities are that even now we are being watched."

"Precisely; notwithstanding the silence and deserted appearance of these streets, I have no doubt that a lynx eye has been upon us from the moment we left the station. The object of our journey is to discover, if possible, whether the meeting takes place, and, if so, who passes in or out of the building. Our danger is in being discovered. Should their sentries or spies find us out, we shall probably have a rough time."

A grim smile spread itself over the inspector's keen face as he finished speaking, and he looked at Helmar to observe the effect of his words.

"Well, if it comes to a fight, I have little doubt that we can give a good account of ourselves," he replied. "For my part nothing would give me greater pleasure than to try conclusions with some of the cowardly assassins."

"No doubt you will have your wish. It is the duty of a police-officer not to avoid trouble if he finds it."

They were now nearing the outskirts of the town. The streets were wider and cleaner, long, open spaces stretched between the houses, and the reeking atmosphere of the native quarter gave place to the fresh air of the open country. There was no moon to guide them, and they had long since got beyond the limit of the city lighting.

Suddenly, in the middle of one of these long, open spaces, the officer caught hold of his companion's arm, and stopped in an attitude of keen attention.

"Not a word!" he whispered, after a momentary pause. "We are followed. Come, drop down here, under this bush, and don't move till you see what I do. Shush!"

The pair lay down and pushed themselves as far under the bush as possible. Here they were within reach of the foot-walk they had been travelling, and yet entirely screened from observation.

So far George's untrained ear had discovered nothing, and he marvelled at his companion's sharpness, but before they had been there a minute, he heard the soft patter-patter of bare feet coming along the path. The officer squeezed his arm to impress silence upon him, and then, raising himself, he tucked his feet under him ready for a spring. The footsteps came nearer and nearer.

George felt a quiver of excitement pass all over him as he waited; every nerve was strained to its utmost tension, and it was with difficulty he repressed the desire to jump out of his hiding-place.

The footsteps were now nearing at a run, evidently the spy thought he had lost his quarry, and was anxious to see what had become of them.

Suddenly the figure loomed up in the darkness, and just as it came abreast of the bush, the officer bounded from his place of concealment. Before the man could so much as cry out he had gripped him by the throat, and brought him down to the ground.

George was hardly a moment behind his chief.

"Quick, gag him with his turban!" said Childs. "There is no time to lose."

While the inspector held the man, Helmar unwound the turban and bound it round the fellow's mouth. Then cutting the spare end off, he secured his hands behind him. The man's sash was useful in binding his feet, and, thus trussed, they threw him under the bush.

"I calculated on this," said the officer. "Had we not secured this fellow, the meeting would have been warned, and we should probably never have escaped with our lives. Come along, he is safe for a while, and we can now continue our journey without fear of observation."

"But," said Helmar, "how is it that this nigger came to follow us—who put him on your track?"

"Ah, I see you don't understand. There are spies all over the town, and the police movements are watched. I, in particular, never leave the office but I am followed by one of these thieving, murdering Arabs."

The inspector now altered his direction, and they returned towards the town. In a few minutes they approached a dingy-looking house standing well back from the road. The place stood in its own grounds, and over the door was a sign which George failed to understand. At first glance there appeared to be no indication of occupation—the house was in complete darkness.

Before they came up to it, the officer made a dÉtour and reached the ground at the back.

"That is the house," said he in a whisper. "It is one of the most infamous gambling hells in the city. You can see no lights because all the shutters are closed, and no doubt there are blankets over them; but—holloa, there's a light shining through that window!" he went on, pointing to one that had just come into view as they reached the garden.

The two men now climbed over the fence, and, dropping into the shrubs on the other side, cautiously neared the building. Telling George to remain where he was, the inspector crawled right up to the window, through the shutters of which a stream of light poured.

Watching him eagerly, George saw him place his hand on the sill and peer through the crack. The moments slipped by, and his eye remained glued to the crack. Suddenly there was a rustle in the bush close by. It passed unnoticed, for George had eyes and ears for nothing but what his chief was doing. Again there was a rustle, this time more pronounced. Still it remained unnoticed.

The inspector suddenly left the window, and the next moment rejoined his companion.

"Well?" whispered Helmar, anxiously. "What news?"

The inspector's face was very grave, and his tones, as he answered, were full of import.

"The best—or rather, the worst. I recognized two people there, one a trusted member of the official staff, and the other a man who has been suspected for a long time. We had better get back—there is nothing more to be done to-night, I have seen all I wish to. To-morrow—we'll wait until to-morrow."

As he finished speaking, he turned sharply round and peered into the scrubbly bush behind them.

"What is it?" asked Helmar, his hand slipping to his revolver unconsciously.

"Did you hear anything?" asked his companion. "By Jove, there's some one on our track. Come along, we'll get out while we have a whole skin."

Leading the way out of the shrubs they made for the fence. The night was particularly dark, and the air was so still that the light sound of their footsteps became ominously loud. The inspector was convinced that there was some one in the garden watching them, and their only chance of safety was by taking to the open instead of returning as they came, through the scrub. At last the fence was reached.

"Up you get, youngster!" whispered Childs. "Look well before you drop on the other side."

George sprang on to the top and looked over. At that moment he heard a terrible cry behind him. Glancing round, he was just in time to see the glint of a long keen blade, and the next instant the inspector fall to the ground with a groan.

Without a moment's hesitation, George dropped from the fence to his assistance. He drew his revolver, and, just as a hideous great black wretch rushed at him, he fired point-blank. Down fell the man across the fallen officer, and then, as if by magic, half-a-dozen wild-looking figures appeared all round him.

There was no mistaking their intention. With a yell of fury they rushed on him. Helmar was as cool as if anything but his life depended upon the issue. As the nearest of the Arabs approached, he dropped him with another shot, then turning with an astonishing quickness of the eye brought another to his knees. It was, however, his last shot, for, as the man fell, his knife which had been upraised, struck him on the wrist, lacerating it terribly; his revolver fell from his nerveless grasp, and he was at the mercy of his antagonists.

For a moment or two he struggled furiously with the remaining three, but the contest was too uneven. The assailants were armed with long, keen knives, and Helmar had now nothing with which to defend himself.

In those moments he realized the futility of his efforts, but he meant to sell his life dearly, and struck out with his left to such purpose that for a second the savages drew back. It was, however, but a momentary lull, and with a combined rush they overwhelmed him.

For one brief moment he struggled fiercely, then he saw one of his assailants raise a long narrow blade—the next instant it fell, and, with a sickening sensation, it struck him in the shoulder. He struggled to release himself, and then, without a single cry, sank to the ground.

The sound of the firing and the cries of his assailants had roused the neighbourhood, and just as the murderers were about to finish their work a crowd approached, and they precipitately fled. It was a mixed and villainous crew that first reached the spot after the departure of the murderers, mainly consisting of natives; but there was a sprinkling of Europeans of doubtful repute, and they quickly gathered round the two inanimate bodies.