Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell's Pranks: or, Lively Times in the Orient», sayfa 10

CHAPTER XIX – BRAD AND NADIA

In an astonishingly brief time Assouan returned, with the old Jew at his heels.

Abraham was carrying a heavy bundle. He looked rather pale and frightened.

“My tear poy,” he said, “vy haf you got yourself indo such a pad scrape? If I hat known last nighdt vat you vas intending to do, I would nefer hat anyt’ing to do vit id. So helup me, I vos in dancher to pe murtered vor id. If id vos voundt oudt I had somedings to do vid disguisin’ you as a girl, and that you dit vool der Pasha that vay, dey vould tear mine shop down un drag me t’rough der streets. I haf peen in terror off my life efer since I heardt vot had habbened. I vould gif somedings handsome if you vos a t’ousandt miles vrom Damascus this minute. Id vos to helup you get avay that I came ven Assouan toldt me an’ gafe me your writings. I haf peen to Enklandt and America, and I read your writings vell.”

“Then don’t lose time in talk,” said Dick; “but get about the job of rigging us up. Fix us so we can escape, and you will be in no danger of exposure.”

The boy realized that it was fear, more than anything else, that had brought Abraham to them in this time of trouble. The Jew believed that Dick, should he be seized by the officers of the city, as an accomplice in the murder of Hafsa Pasha, would then tell how, disguised as a girl, he had deceived the Pasha. He would be compelled to state where he obtained the disguise, and that would turn the wrath of the enraged Moslems against old Abraham.

“You said dere vas fife peoples to be disguised,” said the Jew.

“Yes.”

“I see only t’ree.”

“Brad, call Budthorne and his sister.”

Dunbar and Nadia appeared in a few minutes, and Dick explained his plan of escaping in disguise.

“Do you think it necessary?” asked Dunbar. “It seems to me that we are safe now, for the soldiers are guarding the hotel, and the mob is held in check.”

Then Dick was compelled to tell that the soldiers were guarding the hotel while waiting for the governing Pasha’s order to arrest the foreigners supposed to be concerned in the murder of Hafsa Pasha.

“It is Nadia we must get out of here, first,” said Dick. “You should be ready to take any risk to get her away.”

When Budthorne was satisfied that Merriwell was not mistaken he immediately urged his sister to permit herself to be disguised and to follow the advice of the clear-headed American lad.

Realizing her own frightful peril at last, the girl willingly consented.

“It will pe easy to disguise her,” declared Abraham.

“Then,” said Dick, “lose no time in making her up. Disguise Budthorne, also, and let Assouan conduct them from the hotel while you are rigging the rest of us up. He should be able to conduct them to some place of safety and then return for us. Can you do so, Assouan?”

The black man declared that he could.

The old Jew opened his pack and spread out his supply of costumes. He swiftly prepared for work.

In truth, it was an easy matter to disguise Nadia. Over her regular clothes he hastily fastened a loose dress, like that worn by a Turkish woman of middle class, placed a high fezlike cap on her head, and arranged a heavy veil over her face below the eyes, the brows and lashes of which he had touched up with pencils, giving them the peculiar cast seen in those of Moslem women.

All this was done so swiftly and so completely changed Nadia that the watchers were astounded.

Abraham lost no time.

“Nexdt,” he called.

Dick pushed Budthorne forward.

Buckhart improved the opportunity to take charge of the girl. They stepped outside the room, while Abraham went to work on Dunbar without delay.

Excited people were still moving about in the hotel. The sound of many voices came to the boy and girl. Some one was at the foot of the stairs.

Brad urged Nadia into her own room, the door of which was standing ajar. She grasped his hand and drew him after her, whispering:

“I am terribly frightened now, Brad. Don’t leave me alone.”

“All right,” said the Texan. “Don’t you be frightened. We’re going to get you out of this scrape all right. My pard has a long head on his shoulders.”

“Dick is a wonderful boy,” declared the girl.

Again Buckhart felt a thrill of jealousy, but he resolutely thrust such a feeling from his heart.

“He’s a corker!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “See how quick he caught onto the plan of old Ras al Had and turned it to the benefit of us all.”

They were in the room, but the door was still left ajar.

“I know I’m a big blunderer beside Dick,” Buckhart went on. “Of course you’re not to blame for liking him best, Nadia. It’s only natural you should, and – ”

“But I don’t like him best,” she hastily cut in.

“You can’t help it.”

“You’re mistaken, Brad. I admire him for his courage, his resourcefulness, his loyalty and all that; but you are just as brave and just as loyal, and I – I like you – even better.”

He caught her hand again and gave it a squeeze.

“I don’t see how that can be,” he muttered huskily.

“It’s true. You don’t think I would deceive you, do you?”

“No, but – ”

“But what?”

“I’m going to confess,” he said, almost defiantly. “I know I made a fool of myself after we joined you here in Damascus. I never felt that way before, and I hope I never shall again. It’s an awful mean feeling. I was jealous.”

“Jealous, Brad?”

“Yes, I was. First I was jealous because I thought you had taken too much interest in Hafsa Pasha. Then I was jealous of my pard, as I couldn’t see any reason why you should care more for him than for me. And through my fool actions I brought all this trouble on us. If I had not gone off by myself, kind of eating my heart out, and then ran away when you and Dick saw me and tried to overtake me, you would not have been lost in the streets, would not have enraged the Moslems by entering one of their temples, and would not have given Hafsa Pasha’s tools a chance to seize and imprison you. Oh, I was all to blame, and I know it. I’m a big – ”

She placed a soft hand over his mouth.

“I won’t listen to such a defamation of the character of my dearest friend!” she whispered.

He kissed her fingers.

“But it’s the truth,” he asserted. “I hope you’ll forgive me and forget it, Nadia.”

“Why, you dear fellow, you talk as if you had committed a crime!”

“I feel that way. If we get out of this scrape alive, Nadia, I’ll try to prove to you that I’m not such a fool as I seem. You see!”

“Oh, hush!”

“You see!” he repeated.

“But we may none of us escape. Isn’t it terrible! I don’t like Dick’s plan for Dunbar and I to leave first. I think we had better wait and all go together. If we – ”

She stopped, checked by a dull, muffled, murmuring roar that seemed to come from the streets not far away. The sound made her tremble.

“The mob has not dispersed!” she whispered. “It has been driven away, but it is returning! I fear we’re lost!”

He did his best to cheer her and give her courage. Somehow she was overcome by a great weakness, and suddenly he found her in his arms. The situation thrilled him, and he held her tight, while he continued to speak earnest words of reassurance.

A sound behind them startled them. Brad turned his head, still holding Nadia.

A befezzed Turk had quietly entered the room. His eyes seemed to glitter triumphantly. Lifting a hand and pointing at them, he exclaimed:

“I have found you! I have come to take that girl away!”

Nadia uttered a low cry of terror.

Swinging her onto his left arm, Buckhart suddenly whipped out a pistol and covered the Turk.

“Stand back!” he growled. “Advance a step and I’ll blow a hole through you!”

The man was startled and alarmed by this quick action on the part of the Texan. He fell back, exclaiming:

“Don’t shoot!”

“I certain shall,” said Buckhart, “if you move another inch. Stand there and lift your dirty paws above your head!”

The threatened man hastily put up his hands, at the same time spluttering:

“Great Scott! You’re altogether too handy with your pistol! Put it up, Brad! Don’t you know me? I’m Budthorne!”

Nadia gave a start, straightened up a little, and stared at the speaker.

“Dunbar,” she gasped; “Dunbar, is it you?”

“Of course it is,” was the answer. “I wanted to see if my disguise was any good; but I didn’t care to have Buckhart jab a pistol at me so promptly.”

“Great horn spoon!” muttered the Texan, recognizing Budthorne’s voice and manner of speaking. “I sure was fooled all right. Say, you certain look an Allah worshiper to the life. If you ever get outside of the hotel in that rig, you’ll be all right.”

Assouan now appeared.

“We should lose no time,” he said. “Abraham is disguising the others. I must lead you to a place of safety and return for them. The mob is again trying to approach the hotel, and the soldiers do not seem strong enough to hold them back much longer.”

“It doesn’t seem right for us to go until all are ready,” said the girl. “I think we should not.”

Dick appeared now.

“You must go at once,” he insisted. “It is better so. Were we all to attempt to pass through the streets together it would add to the danger of being detected. Abraham is disguising Professor Gunn. Assouan can conduct Nadia. She will seem to be a Turkish woman with an escort. Budthorne can follow at a little distance, keeping them in sight. Assouan will return for us the moment he has placed you where you will be safe. By the time he gets back, we’ll be ready to start. Do not hesitate, Nadia – go!”

“It is best, sister,” said her brother.

She grasped Brad’s hand once more and gave it a pressure, looking into his eyes, which smiled at her reassuringly, although his heart was heavy with dread.

“Come quickly, Brad,” she whispered. “I shall be in mortal terror for you until I see you again.”

Assouan led the way downstairs, the brother and sister following.

From a distance again came an outburst of sullen muttering, like the growling of wild animals held in check. The Moslem mob was growing impatient. The streets in the vicinity of the hotel were choked. At any moment the crowd might break from the control of the soldiers.

“It certain puzzles me up a plenty to know how Assouan is going to get them out of this building and away from here,” said Brad, following Dick back into the room where the old Jew was at work.

Already Abraham had transformed Professor Gunn into an apparently dirty and ragged old Armenian. He was putting on the finishing touches when the boys entered.

“Waugh!” grunted Brad. “Is that Professor Zenas Gunn, of Fardale Academy? Why, I feel a whole lot like kicking that old beggar.”

“I know I’m a shameful sight,” moaned Gunn; “but to save my life I have permitted myself to be changed into a scarecrow.”

“Ven you get der street indo,” said the old Jew, “it will pe vell vor you to keep your mouth still and haf nothing to say. If you talk you vill betray yourseluf. Now you vos done. I vill attend to der poys.”

Dick pushed Brad forward, and Abraham began on him. With marvelous rapidity he turned the boy into a young Greek. The work of the Jew was of the most skillful sort, yet it was performed so rapidly that it actually seemed careless and slipshod. The results attained, however, spoke for themselves.

Dick’s trousers were turned up, his shoes stripped off, coarse and dirty socks pulled on over those he wore. He was given a pair of trousers which came to his ankles, a long, loose, dirty blouse that fell to the knees, a coarse, heavy pair of slipper-like shoes, and finally a battered and soiled fez, with a tassle that hung down over one ear. His face was bedaubed and rubbed with grease paint until his complexion changed to dirty yellow. The Jew touched his features here and there with a pencil, and last the contour of his nose was altered by a bit of nose putty. This seemed to be an afterthought on the part of Abraham, but it finished the effect and altered a handsome boy into a slouching, disreputable-appearing young rascal, such as Merriwell had noticed occasionally on the streets of Damascus.

Outside the hotel there was a sudden great shouting.

“Some one has arrived,” announced Brad, who had ventured to peep from the window.

The tall form of Assouan appeared in the doorway.

“Hasten!” he exclaimed. “The Pasha’s officer has come to take you! He is at the door.”

CHAPTER XX – THE FLIGHT

“Too late!” groaned the professor, almost collapsing. “I feared it!”

“Thank goodness Nadia got out of the trap!” muttered Buckhart.

“If you do nod escape now id vas der death of Abraham!” groaned the frightened Jew.

Dick sprang past Assouan and reached the door. He looked out and then turned.

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “There is no one here.”

“He is below,” said the black man. “Be quick! There is still a small chance for you.”

“Come on, then!” exclaimed Brad.

But Dick saw the old professor had sunk down weakly on the couch, and he leaped to the side of Zenas.

“Come, professor!” he breathed, grasping the hand of the unnerved man.

“Go!” gasped the old pedagogue weakly. “Save yourself, if you can. Leave me. My strength is gone. God bless you, Richard! If I am beheaded by these fanatics, tell my wife – tell the boys – ”

In spite of Professor Gunn’s lack of nerve, in spite of the spells of trepidation which seized him, in spite of his many weaknesses, the old man had won a warm corner in Dick Merriwell’s heart, and Dick was not the boy to desert in time of peril any one for whom he had the slightest regard.

“I’ll not tell them anything!” he said grimly. “If you do not brace up and attempt to escape, I’ll remain here with you, and you know what that means. You may not be harmed, for you were not present when Hafsa Pasha was slain; but as surely as I fall into the hands of the sultan’s officers, there will be very little show for me. Unless you brace up now, you may destroy me.”

Dick spoke in this manner thinking it might be the best way to arouse the old man, and he made no mistake.

“I – I – I – ” stammered the professor.

Brad urged them to hasten.

Suddenly Dick picked the professor up by main strength and placed him on his feet. Supporting the old man, he hurried him toward the door.

Assouan had grown impatient and seemed ready to dart away. His eyes were rolling, showing the whites in a manner that betokened the man’s nervousness and increasing fear. He urged them not to waste another moment.

Abraham was left praying in the room.

“Lead on,” said Dick.

Suddenly Professor Gunn displayed an astonishing burst of energy. He broke from Dick and ran to Assouan, imploring the messenger of the sheik to make all haste.

Down the stairs sprang Assouan, and what seemed to be a trembling old beggar kept close at his heels. Buckhart came next, with Dick bringing up the rear.

At the foot of the stairs suddenly appeared a Turkish officer with a drawn sword. He did not attempt to stop Assouan, but lifted his sword and placed the point against the breast of the disguised professor, commanding him to halt.

At the same instant, it seemed, a human figure fairly shot over the head and shoulders of Buckhart, over the professor, and landed with full force on the officer, hurling the latter to the floor.

It was Dick Merriwell, who had acted with lightning-like swiftness.

The Turk was knocked senseless, and lay stretched on the floor at the foot of the stairs, his sword beneath him.

Dick leaped up.

“Come on, professor!” he hissed. “Come on, Brad!”

He caught hold of Gunn once more, and away they went, finding it no simple matter to keep track of the black man, who was now fleeing for his own life.

Other inmates of the hotel, all in great alarm, got in their way, but were thrust aside. They rushed through several rooms. Twice some one tried to stop them. They stumbled down some dark steps. Doors were flung open before them and slammed behind them. Some curtains were thrust aside, disclosing a dark passage. Into this they plunged. It brought them quickly to other rooms and other doors that yielded to the hand of the black leader. They were bewildered, for none save Assouan knew whither they were going. Their wild rush hither and thither seemed aimless. At last, in a storeroom, where there were boxes and bales and casks, the sheik’s messenger thrust a bale aside and seized an iron ring that seemed set in the floor. With a surge, he lifted a trapdoor, beneath which was a place of utter darkness.

“Down!” he sibilated, pointing into the darkness. “Down, and wait for me to follow!”

Brad dropped through recklessly and disappeared. The professor followed, breathing a prayer.

Behind them there were cries and the sound of many feet. Their flight had attracted attention. Several persons were coming, and they might be Turkish officers.

Dick slipped through the trap and dropped.

He fell on his hands and knees, and instantly realized that, were he to stand erect, his head and shoulders would protrude through the square opening above.

He felt one of his companions at his side. He looked up and saw the muscular black man again moving the bale. Assouan sat with his legs dangling through the opening. The trapdoor was leaning against his shoulder. He reached over, grasped the bale and pulled it against the door. Then, swiftly, yet with deliberation, he slid down through the trap, permitting the door to close, with the tipped bale settling over it.

In the darkness, beneath, the four fugitives crouched on the bare ground, hearing above their heads the feet of their pursuers.

After a time the tread of feet and murmur of voices ceased. Evidently their pursuers had departed baffled.

Then Assouan whispered directions to them, and, one after the other, the black man leading, they crawled many feet along what seemed to be a trenchlike passage beneath the building.

Finally Assouan paused. He rose, and they saw a gleam of light that came faintly through another square opening. This dim light revealed their conductor opening another trapdoor by lifting it. He stood erect, and then sprang lightly up through the opening.

“Oh, Richard!” whispered Professor Gunn; “this is a terrible experience! If we escape with our lives, I shall always think of this day with unspeakable horror.”

Assouan was stooping over the opening, with his hands outstretched. He directed them to rise and permit him to assist them.

Dick urged the professor onward. The black man grasped the hands of the old pedagogue and lifted him through the trap.

Buckhart needed no assistance, nor did Dick, who swiftly followed him.

Assouan closed the trapdoor behind him.

“Wherever are we?” inquired the Texan.

The black man explained that they were in a building that stood on the opposite side of a narrow street at the back of the German hotel.

They had actually crept through a passage that led beneath this street.

This passage had been made years before, by the former owner of the hotel, who feared a repetition of the massacre of 1860, and wished a means of escaping from the building in case it should be assailed by a mob. It was doubtful if the present proprietor knew of the existence of the passage.

The old sheik, Ras al Had, had chanced by accident to discover the passage while storing goods in the building into which it led from the hotel. At the present time this building was used as a storehouse. The room in which they found themselves was poorly lighted. They were again amid boxes and bales of goods.

Outside, between them and the hotel, they heard the sound of many voices. The mob was there, but the soldiers were still holding the crowd in check.

“My goodness!” murmured Professor Gunn. “It seems to me that we’re still in a nasty scrape. We haven’t escaped.”

Without a word, the black man led the way to another part of the building. A heavy door faced them in one dim corner. This door Assouan knew how to open, but he paused and listened some moments before unfastening it.

“When the door is opened,” he finally said, “step quickly across and into a doorway directly opposite.”

They were ready. The door was opened, and, without loss of time, they crossed a space of about three feet between the two buildings and entered the doorway spoken of by Assouan.

The black man followed them as soon as he had closed the door after leaving the storehouse. They found they had stepped into a room where, sitting cross-legged on the floor, an old sandal maker was at work. To their surprise, this old man, after looking at them curiously, kept on about his labor without speaking a word.

Assouan explained that the man was a mute.

The black man made some signs, which were answered by a single signal from the sandal maker. Then Assouan again instructed his disguised companions to follow him, pushed aside a curtain from a low doorway, stooped and passed into an adjoining room.

This room was on the front of the house. The door to the street stood wide open. A middle-aged Syrian woman was working at a rude loom, weaving some sort of goods. Two girls, one about thirteen and the other eight or nine, were sorting and preparing the strands used by the woman in her work.

The woman glanced at Assouan, but seemed to give none of the others a look. Dick fancied an expression of alarm swept over her face, but she continued stolidly and steadily about her work.

The children stared at them until the woman spoke in a low tone of command, seeming to rebuke them for their rudeness, after which they resumed the work of sorting and preparing the strands.

Assouan tossed a piece of silver before the woman, but she kept at her work, without seeming to notice it. Dick would have dropped more money, but the black man restrained him with a gesture and a shake of the head. They passed out upon the street, one at a time.

Assouan strode in advance. Professor Gunn, looking like a ragged old Armenian, doddered along behind him. Buckhart, as a respectable young Greek, kept by himself, taking the opposite side of the street. Dick imitated the shiftless, shuffling walk of the young vagabonds of the city, thus making his assumed character seem real, and followed them all at a little distance.

The street was well filled – almost crowded – with excited people, who were talking of the murder of the Pasha and the belief that those concerned in the murder were trapped in the German hotel.

Although the people were speaking in various languages, Dick understood something of what was being said, and he realized that he was surrounded by Moslems.

Although Abraham had performed his work well, he had made a mistake in disguising the old professor as an Armenian. The Turks were aroused. Although they were stirred up against foreigners, their hatred for the Armenians was liable to burst forth any moment.

Thus it happened that a group of young men suddenly stopped the disguised professor and began hustling him about.

The old man said not a word, for he knew he would betray himself if he opened his mouth.

Brad Buckhart paused and watched proceedings, his hands clenched and his aspect indicating that he was on the verge of pitching in and assisting Zenas.

Dick made a warning gesture, which Brad saw. He also paused, but he looked on as if quite indifferent to what was taking place.

Assouan had disappeared. Fully understanding the terrible peril his companions were in, he had no desire to become involved, and, therefore, he had hastened on.

Our friends were left to their fate in the streets of Damascus.