TO DEATH OR GLORY

History chronicles the events that followed on the night Helmar arrived at the British camp outside Tel-el-Kebir. It is therefore unnecessary to give here the details of how on that night, the thirteenth of September, the camp was struck at Kassassin Lock, with a few men only left to hold the place; how the whole force, consisting of about 14,000 men, marched out in the dead of night towards Arabi's entrenchments; how they bivouacked within a short distance of them until nearly morning; and how at length the order for attack was passed along the line, and the rebels, taken by surprise, utterly routed by this daring manoeuvre. There is no need to dilate on the gallantry displayed by the Highland Brigade and the Royal Irish regiment on that occasion, all this is known with the rest of the history of the British nation's many great victories, and will remain until the day of doom graven on the pages of the military achievements of the English race.

But the events that resulted after the news of Arabi's intention to burn the beautiful city of Cairo to the ground reached the Commander-in-Chief, concern us most, for in their development Helmar was largely concerned.

After the orderly had warned him to hold himself in readiness, George, with the help of his new-found friend Sergeant Smith, set about collecting his accoutrements. His saddle was brought to the tent, and his horse placed where he could easily find it; this done, he lay down to snatch all the rest he could.

So weary and tired was he, that he failed to hear his companion leave the tent, when the troops moved to the attack. There was no noise in their leaving, and even had there been, it is doubtful if it would have roused him, so worn out was he with his day's work.

Towards daybreak he was awakened by one of the men left in camp, and he rose refreshed and ready for the journey that lay before him. A few minutes sufficed to devour a few mouthfuls of food, and then he saddled up his horse; by the time this was over he saw a large body of mounted men already assembling further down the lines. Mounting his sleek Arab steed he rode hastily over to them, and in a few minutes the whole body moved off.

As far as he could see there were about nine hundred men of various regiments, all mounted on horses in the pink of condition, the men themselves looking fit to undertake any work, no matter how arduous.

Before the party had proceeded far, an officer rode up to George.

"You are the man who came from Cairo yesterday, are you not?" he said, as he drew rein alongside.

"Yes, sir," George replied.

"Very well, your two men are on ahead acting as guides with the advanced guard; you will ride on and join them, and act under the orders of the officer in command of that party. Hurry up!"

Helmar at once started off, and in a few minutes caught them up. He found Belbeis and his guide of the previous day riding on the lead with the officer. Reporting himself, he was told to ride with them, and the journey began in deadly earnest.

"We are bound for Cairo," the officer explained, "and must reach there in the quickest possible time."

"Yes, sir; and which route is to be taken?" asked George.

"Via a little village called Belbeis, where we shall rest for the night."

"Belbeis," exclaimed Helmar, looking over at his faithful guide.

"Yes," replied the Arab, "I know, it is my native place, the village from which I take my name. It is on the fresh-water canal. We must take the desert route, and so avoid Arabi's entrenchments."

Turning to the officer, George interpreted what Belbeis had said, adding that he thought the suggestion the guide had made was the best plan possible.

"Very well, but there must be no mistake, for our work will admit of no delay. The man can be trusted, I hope."

"Without doubt," said George, at once. "He is absolutely faithful and trustworthy."

Considering the large number of men, the journey was most rapid, and, under the guidance of the trusty Belbeis, his native village was reached at sundown in safety. The journey was made in the heat of the day, and, notwithstanding the fortitude of both horses and men, was very trying. Even the guides and Helmar, after their terrible journey of the day before, were thankful when the little village was sighted, and the order for the bivouac was given. Many of the men lay down where they off-saddled, tired and worn out, and, after a frugal meal, slept where they were, without covering, and with only their saddles for a pillow.

George, after the wants of his horse were attended to, glanced round the scattered soldiers, and noting the worn-out condition, registered a mental wager that many of them would never be able to last till Cairo was reached. At present only the shortest part of the journey had been traversed, how would they feel at the end of the next forty miles?

With many misgivings he found his two friends, and communicated his fears to them.

"Seems to me," he said, seating himself beside Belbeis, "many of those fellows will never reach Cairo."

Belbeis was thoughtfully smoking, squatting on his haunches in true Oriental fashion, his water-bottle lying beside him, and the remains of his supper scattered about on the ground; the other guide sat facing him.

"The children of the West," replied Belbeis, watching the puffs of smoke as he emitted them from his mouth, "are not used to the Egyptian sun and the sand of the desert. It is hard for them, but they are good men, their hearts are big. The horses are what I most fear."

"Yes," put in the guide, "the Arab courser is as the wind in the desert, he never tires, and nothing can travel like him."

"You are right," said George, gazing admiringly at his own mount, calmly feeding a little way off. "The desert has no terrors for the fleet-footed Arab, but I doubt if he would do as well in my country."

There was a short pause, and then Belbeis again spoke.

"What are we going to do when we reach Cairo?" he asked. "The way is long and we are but few."

"Going to take the city, I expect," replied George.

"But we are not a thousand fighting men," exclaimed the cautious Arab, "and there are at least twenty thousand rebels in the city. Poof, the English are mad, we shall die."

George burst into a laugh, and Belbeis looked disgusted.

"You do not understand our people, there is some trick on hand, they know their business; besides, if it came to a fight with such a number, I would not wager on the rebels."

"Allah is great," replied Belbeis solemnly, "His ways are mysterious, but I cannot understand."

"No," said George, smiling, "neither will Arabi, he does not know the sons of the West. They will dare anything."

"Allah is powerful," replied Belbeis, "and we are but His children."

Again a silence fell upon the little party, a silence only broken by the sound of the resting horses' movements and the buzzing of insects now abroad in the cooling air. On all sides, as far as the eye could reach in the darkening night, soldiers lay about in various attitudes of rest. Here and there, though infrequently, small groups sat smoking and talking, but mostly the weary men slept. One or two sentries, doing short reliefs of watch, hovered about, leaning for support on their carbines.

The scene was an impressive one, and, to Belbeis, who understood not the daring of a British soldier, it seemed a pity that so many men should be doomed on such a futile effort as Helmar had said. George sat scanning the scene with very different feelings. He knew the subtle strategy of the soldiers, and was convinced that the task in hand must be more than possible, or this small force would never have been sent on such an errand.

At last George and the guides curled themselves up and slept, the problem of the work in hand no longer interesting them. At last, after a period that seemed all too short to the weary men, came the first streak of dawn, and the guard walked among them, rousing each as he went for the beginning of the last stage of the journey. In a few minutes all was bustle and activity. The neigh of horses, the clatter of accoutrements, the voices of the men, resounded on all sides. With the trained discipline of soldiers, everything was in readiness before daylight, and, as the dawn began to broaden, the journey was resumed. On they rode, mile after mile, hour after hour; daylight gave place to sunrise, and with it the heat of the day once more brought streaming perspiration out on the horses and riders. None but those accustomed to the terrible heat of the tropics could understand the terrors of that journey to the Western-bred men. Every minute, every second of the day was a constant agony to man and beast, but still with indomitable pluck they kept on. At mid-day a halt was made and food partaken of; here many of the men had to fall out, their horses too exhausted to go further. The weary faces of the men told their tale, and the officer anxiously scanned the ranks in fear lest his troop would not be able to reach their destination.

It was an anxious time for the man in command, but, with set purpose and grim determination, no thought of retreat entered his mind. So long as horse could travel, so long must the journey be kept up.

George's horse seemed indefatigable, and still, at every halt, champed impatiently at its bit. Some of its spirit seemed to be communicated to its rider, for though absolutely worn out, he anxiously sought to hurry on.

This part of the route was less barren and dreary; their course lay fairly near the canal, and signs of agriculture appeared at intervals.

Again, with diminished ranks, the order of march was resumed. Horses floundered in the sand, too weary to lift their feet, others with drooping heads marched along in a dogged determined sort of way that betokened their condition. It was terrible.

The officer riding beside Helmar was well mounted, and his horse as yet showed no signs of giving in. Observing the freshness of Helmar's mount, he said—

"Your horse stands it well."

"Yes, he is one of the purest Arabs. He travelled over this journey the day before yesterday, and he is fresher now than any of them," replied George with pride.

"Marvellous! marvellous!" replied the officer. "What we shall be like when we reach Cairo I shudder to think; this journey is awful."

"The ranks are thinning," said Helmar, "our advanced guard can scarcely keep their seats. Heaven only knows what will happen if we are attacked!"

"Let us trust that nothing of the sort occurs," answered the officer. "Even as it is, I do not see that we can do anything to-night."

"What! is the attack on the city to be carried out to-night?" exclaimed George, incredulously.

"Those are the orders," replied his superior, simply.

George relapsed into silence, wondering even more at the ways of the Commander.

The sun was sinking, and they were now nearing their destination. Already in the distant haze they could see some of the spires of the city they were to take. Each man of that devoted little band realized that the critical moment was nearing, and each man braced himself for the effort that would be expected of him. The nightmare of it all was not yet passed, and the last stage, they knew, would be worse than its predecessors.

Six miles from the city a halt was made. The sun had already set, and the party that, at the start, had been a smart, compact, and fit body of troops, now trailed up to the halting-place in a scattered line, horses hardly able to put one foot before another, the men reeling and fainting with exhaustion in the saddle. It was a despairing sight to the officers in charge, with work to carry out that now seemed hopeless.

As each man rode up, the last flicker of discipline asserted itself, and they closed up their ranks in one long line, whilst the officer rode down inspecting them. After that the horses were off-saddled.

After a rest of two hours had been given, the men were called up and their Chief addressed them.

"It is," he said, "absolutely necessary to ride into Cairo to-night! Many men and horses are not fit to move, but the orders must be obeyed. I shall leave it to you yourselves to decide who can travel on. The officers will inspect their troops and assist in that decision."

After this, weary as they were, volunteers were not wanting, to a man they were all anxious; but on inspection it was found that one hundred and fifty only out of that nine hundred were fit to proceed further, and so it was decided that the gallant Major Watson should march in at the head of this infinitesimal force and demand the surrender of twenty thousand armed rebels.

The task seemed utter madness, even to Helmar, whose adventurous spirit had made him one of the first to volunteer. Directly darkness closed in, the advance was made; one hundred and fifty tired but desperate men started on that fateful mission. George never expected to come out of it alive, and many and varied were his thoughts as the little band made its way towards the town. The one thing that he regretted most was, that he had not been able to see Osterberg before he left Tel-el-Kebir. He had been too tired to seek him out after his interview with the Commander-in-Chief in that labyrinth of tents, and by the time he left in the morning, doubtless the boy was with the fighting line at the trenches. Well, it couldn't be helped now; if George survived this night's work he would see him again some day, and if not——

Here his reflections were broken in upon by the word being passed down the line to urge their horses into a trot, but with strict injunctions to keep together. Helmar was still on the lead, accompanied by Belbeis and the officer.

"Four more miles and then we are in for it," said the latter, as his horse quickened his pace.

"Yes, sir," replied Helmar, "four more miles and then—Death or Glory."

Nothing further was said, and in grim silence the march was continued. Major Watson now headed his men, and the outskirts of the town were reached. Without hesitation the gallant Major rode straight for the citadel. The clatter of mounted men in the streets alarmed the natives, but the darkness kept the numbers of the invaders covered, and it was believed the British were upon them. Hundreds flung down their arms and grovelled in the dust, as this victorious little army galloped on. At length the city itself was entered. Each man of the one hundred and fifty sat on his horse with his arms ready for use, prepared to fight to the last. But no opposition was offered them.

Natives kept behind their doors in fear and trembling, thinking that the rest of the army was following, ready to adopt their own barbarous methods and massacre every one they came across. Panic had seized the city, and every one waited the catastrophe that each felt was about to fall upon them.

On rode Major Watson towards the eminence on which stood the citadel; as they came to it the poor worn beasts could scarcely carry themselves up the hill. By superhuman efforts at last the gates were reached. The crucial point had come.