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Updated: August 12, 2024
Naoum smiled at the young man's earnest manner, but the smile did not for a moment conceal from Helmar his deep disappointment that the decision was unfavourable to his offer. "I am glad that you are pleased, my son, but it would be idle to disguise my disappointment. I had hoped that you would have been a son to me upon whom I might lavish all my wealth, but it is not to be.
"Can't say, I'm sure," replied the officer, looking towards the east. "I believe at the first streak of daylight they are going to try to mount some of the naval guns on that steep hill the other side of the railway. I don't quite see how it is to be done under fire." Helmar looked over at the hill in question. Well might the officer doubt the ability of the troops to mount the guns under fire.
The food was of the most luxurious description, and Helmar marvelled the more at the mysterious man who had provided it. Who was he in reality? Naoum he knew was his name, and he had hitherto only taken him for a successful trader; but apparently he was a man of great fortune and power, or how could he supply money to the extent he appeared to be doing?
In the latter intervals he wondered how long the train would take to reach its destination, he had not been in it half-an-hour, and yet it seemed to him an eternity. The guards were talking in low tones; every now and then Helmar caught a word of Arabic, but they had taken the precaution to seat themselves so far from him that he could not hear what they talked about.
Helmar hurried along in face of the terrific fire, totally heedless of the danger he was running, until he reached the railway. Hurrying on with the greatest possible speed, he reached the base of the hill, where he stood watching the efforts of the men. It was frightful work, the great heavy guns moved ever so slowly, and to George the outlook seemed hopeless.
Belbeis and the guide now remained with the main body, whilst Helmar and Osterberg joined the officer, who, accompanied by an escort of four men, started at once for head-quarters. "By the way," said the officer, after they had ridden a little way in silence, "the man who was leading the rebels is a prisoner he is a white man. Do you know anything of him?"
Immediately it flashed across his mind that he had seen the man before, but where he could not say. However, the recognition seemed mutual, for as the soldier lay back again, there was an unmistakable smile on his face, and Helmar went on towards his hut wondering. As soon as he arrived there, George stepped in and the door was closed upon him.
After the doctor had finished his hospital duties he returned home with the announcement. "Our fleet has bombarded Alexandria, and the blue-jackets have landed," he cried, as he stepped into the sitting-room. "You, Osterberg, will be able to return to your bank, and you, Helmar, the consul is going to send to the general commanding the forces there as an interpreter.
Down he went with a crash, and the other, fearing a similar fate, fled precipitately into the bush. Helmar now turned to see how his companions fared. The odds here were three to two, and his friends were keeping the men at bay.
"Bread and coffee is too good for a dog of an unbeliever," replied the warder, in a surly tone, "better food is only for the sons of the Prophet. The white dog will soon not need anything in Egypt." As he finished speaking he left the cell, slamming the door behind him, as if to emphasize his disgust at waiting on a white man. "The surly pig," muttered Helmar, when the man had gone.
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