HAKESH THE PRIEST

As the guard had said, at sunrise the next morning the order was given for George to be conducted to Arabi's head-quarters. After the prisoner had been served with his rough breakfast, his horse was brought to him. His guard assembled, no less than six men, to form his escort, and he was ordered to mount. Just as they were about to start, Mark Arden made his appearance.

"So you are off on your long journey, Helmar?" he said, in tones that plainly implied his meaning. "Sorry I shall not be able to travel with you, but I have no doubt Arabi will know how to treat you properly. I have pointed out to him many salient points in your character, that I know will appeal to him—don't you wish you were back at KÖnigsberg?" And he broke off with a taunting laugh.

"There's a good old adage that it would be as well for you to remember, Arden," replied George; "'There's many a slip,' etc. It's a favourite one of mine. And just by way of a piece of advice, don't forget the British advance, they'll give you but short shrift."

"You needn't worry about me, I know all their doings, and by the time their slow movements bring them near enough to do me any harm, my plans will all be complete, and I shall be miles away." He paused for a moment, and a shadow passed over his face; then he suddenly burst out, "Helmar, you are a great fool. Why don't you join me? I have power, you are a German, the British are our enemies—there is yet time. Say the word, and I will free you—we will blot out old scores, and work together."

George gave the man one look of withering scorn.

"You think to coerce me!" he cried with flashing eyes. "You think that I am made of the same currish clay as yourself, and because I am in your power, and you intend to have me wantonly murdered, that I will accept any means of saving my life! But you are wrong! The British are not my enemies, if they are yours. They have stood my friends ever since I came to this country, and, in return, I cannot do less than be faithful to their interests. Rather than associate myself with you, I would be blown from a cannon's mouth—that will show my opinion of you; and now let us get on with the journey—the very sight of you makes me sick."

"So be it! Go! Go to your doom, you fool!"

Arden gave the order to march, and the little party moved off. As they made their way out of the camp, Helmar could not help feeling pleased that he had had another opportunity of letting Mark know what he thought of him, it added to his sense of elation at the prospect which had been opened up to him, of a possible means of escape; he had that feeling which comes to all men after having performed an action that redounds credit to their moral character. So that when the little French-speaking soldier, who had first conducted him to Arden's presence, approached and bullyingly told him that any attempt to escape on his part would bring about immediate death to himself, he only smiled, and replied very cheerfully—

"All right, my friend, if I attempt to do so, I am quite willing to stand the consequences. But if I may be allowed to know—where am I being taken to?"

"The great Pasha is now at Damanhour, whither we go. If when we come there he is gone, we shall follow. My orders are to deliver you to him and no one else."

"Good!" replied Helmar. "I would sooner be sentenced by this great rebel than by any subordinate. I am more likely to be treated fairly decently."

Helmar was not in any way bound; he was given free use of his hands, but the bridle of his horse was secured to that of one of his guard's horses, and even if he had wished to do so, there was but little chance of getting away. However, he had not the least intention of attempting any such mad enterprise, infinitely preferring to trust to the man who carried his note to Naoum.

They were to reach Damanhour that night, the distance was about twenty miles, and they intended to travel only in the cool of the day. After about an hour's journey, the guard halted at a clump of bush, the horses were off-saddled, and the little party prepared to rest until evening. The heat was intense, and the welcome shade of the trees was like water to the thirsty rider in the desert. To Helmar, unaccustomed to this mode of travelling, it was an indescribable relief to sit down on the sandy soil, with his back propped against his saddle, and watch the shimmering haze of heat across the sun-scorched plains. It made him think of the stories he had heard of the weary traveller lost in the desert, no water with which to moisten his parching throat, his tongue swollen, black, and immovable in his mouth, with already the first signs of delirium and insanity showing in his erratic and aimless actions. He shuddered as the picture presented itself, and thanked his stars that he was seated, though a prisoner, beneath such a deliciously refreshing shade.

His escort distributed themselves under the various low bushes around, one man only, his little guide of the day before, sitting by his side to guard him. In a few minutes, with this one exception, they were all asleep. It seemed to George that these men could sleep at all hours of the day or night; in fact, as far as he could see, it was their one pastime. Work and watchfulness, except when compulsory, seemed to be quite out of the native ken.

Hours passed, and at last one by one the men awoke, a fire was kindled, and food, in a careless, lazy sort of way, was prepared. After the meal was finished, they again slept, and Helmar was once more left to his own reflections. The sun was already past the meridian, and getting well down towards the horizon, but the heat was still too great for travelling. The little Egyptian again sat silently beside his charge.

Suddenly, George caught sight of the figure of an Arab approaching. He was some distance off, and as yet the one wakeful guard had not seen him. Helmar eyed the stranger keenly as he approached, wondering who he could be travelling in that intense heat, on foot, in a country infested with lawless soldiery. The stranger came steadily on, and as he drew near, Helmar noticed that, although dressed in flowing Eastern garb, he was a white man, and of patriarchal age. He had a snow-white beard, that reached to his waist, and his figure was tall, lean, attenuated, and tottering. Altogether his appearance was so fascinating that George drew his guard's attention to it.

"Who can that old man be, coming along there on foot?" he asked, in French. "And what on earth is a tottering old fellow like him doing about by himself in such a place?"

The guard looked in the direction indicated, and a peculiar expression passed over his face as his eyes rested on the stranger. Without a word of reply the man jumped up and roused his comrades, and a conversation in Arabic ensued. Helmar listened intently.

"See, see," cried the little man. "It is that madman, Hakesh, the Christian, the priest who goes about calling down the wrath of Allah on our beloved leader. See, he comes from the direction of Mishish, where he has been stirring up the people against Arabi, calling on them to assist the dogs of Christians."

A whispered conversation followed, the purport of which George could not catch, but evidently there appeared to be a divided opinion in the discussion. The friendly mate from the dahabÎeh seemed to be strongly opposed to some plan the little man was laying before them, and his eyes were flashing ominously. Suddenly the Arab who had first spoken raised his voice.

"You are no good believer, Belbeis," he cried, in angry tones. "This dog of a priest is harmful. If our master knew what you say, you would rot in prison. No, he must die—nobody will be the wiser, and we shall get reward. Think, the great Pasha will make us all rich, and Allah will be pleased."

The Egyptian's words struck on Helmar's heart with a cold chill. The old man, Hakesh, was approaching feebly yet fearlessly, perhaps not even knowing the danger that awaited him, and that these fiends in human form were about to murder him in cold blood. The thought was too awful, and George looked about helplessly for a means to thwart them. He might call out and warn the approaching patriarch, but this, he knew, would be useless, for then the five men would fire a volley of bullets into his poor withered old body. No, that would not do. Just then George caught the sound of Belbeis's voice protesting loudly.

"You are a fool, Abdu, you are like all the rest. Does Hakesh not look to all the sick? does he not help the poor?—besides, no Egyptian takes notice of his words, no true believer will follow his guidance, for he is mad. See, if anything is to be done, take him in as a prisoner to the Pasha, but do not kill him or evil will overtake you. He is insane!"

The old man had now sighted the occupants of the bush, and increased his pace. He was only a few steps off, and George could see the benevolent expression of the kind face, and the determined light in the dark, steel-blue eyes, which not even the man's great age could dim.

The discussion amongst the guard had now ceased, and they stood looking on as the old man came up. The little Abdu stood out ahead of his companions, aggressively eyeing the stranger as he came up.

"Peace be with you, my children!" said Hakesh, in a thin, quavering voice, as he stood in front of the party. "You are resting on your weary journey, I see. I will rest with you, for the sun is hot; I have walked far, and am weary too."

The old man made as though to walk over to a bush and sit down, but Abdu intercepted him.

"No, no, you cannot rest here, we are all true believers, and you are no friend of the Pasha's. You preach against him, and call upon all men to take up arms with the dogs of Christians. You cannot take rest with men of the true faith," and he barred the old man's way threateningly.

One or two of the other men backed their leader up, but Belbeis hung back with a look on his face that boded no good to Abdu. Helmar saw the look and had risen to his feet quietly, so as not to attract the attention of the soldiers, but Hakesh caught sight of his white face, and a smile came into his eyes.

"Ah," he said, addressing Helmar in English, "you can speak for me. I cannot make these people understand that I am a man of peace, and would rest."

Abdu did not understand what he said, but seeing him address Helmar, quickly interposed.

"He cannot assist you, he is a prisoner, therefore do not waste words with him. He is a dog of a Christian, too!"

"Peace to your revilings!" answered Hakesh, in a tone of irritation. "Because you are not of our religion, it is no reason to call us dogs. Stand aside, I am weary and must rest."

Either he did not understand that the soldiers were threatening, or he refused to let him see that he did, for he put out one trembling hand and endeavoured to push the little wretch on one side. The moment his hand touched Abdu, the match was set to the train and the explosion followed.

"You would dare to lay a hand on a true believer!" he cried, in his high-pitched voice, his small, wicked eyes glittering with the lust for vengeance. "Dog, you are in my power, you have roused the people against Arabi, you shall go with us, a prisoner to the great Pasha—we shall see! Seize him!" he shouted to the others. "Lash him to a tree and we will flog him!"

Four of the men advanced to do his bidding. Belbeis had not moved. The old man looked round helplessly, not knowing what to expect. Then as the men caught hold of him he struggled feebly. Abdu had stood by, but the moment he saw Hakesh struggle he drew a knife. Helmar, who had not taken his eyes off the man for a moment, saw this. The old man continued his struggle, and Abdu, with murder written on his face, edged round behind him.

Without a word of warning, Helmar with the agility of a tiger darted forward, and with one terrific blow felled the Egyptian to the ground.

"Murder him, would you! You miserable hound! I'll give you a lesson!"

He was about to continue his chastisement, when he found himself surrounded by the rest of the guard. He saw the flash of steel, and then jumping back beside the old man, he faced the infuriated men. As they were about to attack, Belbeis sprang into their midst, and, shouting at them, forced them aside.

For a moment the men paused, and Belbeis at once got the hearing he wanted.

"You fools! What would you do? Kill our prisoner, for the sake of this tottering old man? Out upon you for a flock of foolish vultures! If the white man is harmed we shall lose our heads when the Pasha hears of it."

He spoke quickly and with force, and the ignorant soldiers were quick to see the importance of his arguments, but their thirst for blood was great and they were loth to give up the hated Christian.

Abdu had recovered and sat up, with a huge lump on his forehead where Helmar had struck him.

"Why do you not kill him?" he shouted. "You stand there skulking, while he murders me. Seize him, and let him see what it means to strike one of the faithful."

Belbeis raised his hand.

"Peace," said he, "you brought it on yourself. You would have murdered the old man while we made him prisoner. You may be glad that the Christian stayed your hand, or our lives would have paid the forfeit."

"I care not!" cried Abdu, foaming with rage. "You shall obey me! I am your officer! Kill him, I say!"

"You may not care, but we do," answered Belbeis, calmly. "You may say and do as you like, but we will not let your doings bring the Pasha's wrath on our heads."

The little man still raged, but had to be content, and a compromise was brought about between Belbeis and the others, to the effect that Helmar's hands should be bound and the old man taken on to Damanhour a prisoner. As soon as this was settled, the party once more saddled up and continued their journey.

Hakesh was made to mount behind Helmar's saddle, and in this uncomfortable position the poor old man clung to him for support.

"I can never thank you sufficiently for saving my life," said he, as they rode slowly along. "True, I am so old that it does not much matter, but my work is not yet done, and I would live to see it finished."

"There is no need of thanks," replied George. "I am glad to have helped you. However, our troubles are not yet ended. Abdu won't soon forget that cuff I gave him—we have yet much to fear from his spite."

The old man's attention was now entirely taken up with clinging on to his position, and he relapsed into silence. Helmar was occupied with thoughts of escape, so nothing more was said until the town of Damanhour was reached.