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"What next?" he was asking quite jovially in spite of his headache.
"That's it, sir," grinned d.i.c.k. "What next? That wants a heap of guessing."
CHAPTER IX
d.i.c.k Hamshaw Saves the Situation
There was pandemonium in the city of Adrianople as daylight stole coldly across the roofs of the houses and penetrated to mean streets and alleys, to the interior of houses large and small, and to the cloistered halls of the many mosques. Wailing could be heard on every side, the frightened cries of women, the piteous, hungry sobs of infants and children. For provisions had been short for a long time, while but seven ounces of bread formed the daily ration of each soldier, and civilians must fight for what they could see and live as best they could.
Sh.e.l.ls rained into the place fitfully, ebbing and flowing as does the sea. They came in shoals like mackerel, then intermittently, cras.h.i.+ng their way through roofs, thudding into the streets and open s.p.a.ces, and bursting to right and left. And then, of a sudden, they would cease to fall. Comparative silence would reign in the city; while outside, in the neighbourhood of the forts, could be heard the rattle of musketry, incessant, rising and falling, overwhelmed every few seconds by some violent detonation as a cannon was discharged, and running in waves from one end of the defences to the other.
"Hard at it," said the Commander, listening to a great outburst. "You may depend upon it that the allies have decided to take the place whatever it may cost them. And if all the Turkish troops are like the poor objects one sees from this window, why, this business won't be long before it's ended. Meanwhile, if one may enquire, what are our prospects?"
He turned with smiling face to d.i.c.k and Alec, though the hands supporting his head on either side, and the anxious, drawn look about his eyes, told that he was suffering. Indeed he had a dreadful headache that morning, while the wound he had been unlucky enough to receive was extremely painful.
"If one may enquire?" he said again, with polite and jovial satire. "I am as a child in your hands, and, 'pon my word, you've done uncommonly well. What happened after I was knocked over? Tell me, do. I am still left gaping at the fact that a moment ago, as it seems to me, I was crouching beside a wall waiting for a sh.e.l.l to wreak its vengeance upon this unfortunate city. The very next, I appear to be in clover, reclining on a most comfortable divan, and--er--er--watching you two munching your rations. Now."
They told him all that had happened with a gusto there was no denying.
"And so you see, sir, here we are," added d.i.c.k, his mouth occupied with a hunch of bread and cheese which the thoughtful Sergeant Evans had provided.
"Precisely! Here we are. Afterwards, what? That's where I'm vastly interested. We appear to have got into a charming little pickle. How do we emerge from it?"
Neither d.i.c.k nor Alec could give him the smallest indication, for they themselves were nonplussed by the curious situation into which they had tumbled. Not that they had not given vast thought to the matter; for even then d.i.c.k had risen from the divan and was staring through the window, the noise of people moving down the cobbled street having attracted him. He swung round after a while, reseated himself, and took an enormous bite from the hunch of bread he was holding.
The Commander watched him as he ate it, watched him critically and with some amus.e.m.e.nt. "Come," he said after a while. "What's the manoeuvre?"
Alec shook his head violently; d.i.c.k stood up, still munching, and once more stared through the window. He did not mean to be disrespectful to his senior, but, to be precise, his thoughts were so fully occupied at that particular moment that he hardly heard the sentence. Presently he turned again.
"I'm going out, sir," he said.
"Out! Impossible! You'd be spotted," cried the officer, his joviality gone instantly.
"Hardly, sir. You see, or perhaps I should say, you will see the reason.
I can speak these fellows' lingo quite a little."
"Turkish?"
"Yes, sir. Father was quartered at Constantinople, at the British Emba.s.sy. I was there a good five years, and so learnt to know all about 'em. If I was disguised I could pa.s.s easily, and so I'm going in the gear of that officer."
"But--but why?" demanded the Commander.
"First, to find a more suitable crib for us, sir. That officer fellow may recover consciousness just as quickly as you have done, and then he may very well return to these quarters. That'd be bad for us. Next, there's Major Harvey and his friend to be thought of. We couldn't very well return aboard the airs.h.i.+p without them."
"Certainly not. If they're to be found, then we find them," came from the officer. "But--look here, d.i.c.k, this idea means danger, don't it?"
"Risk, perhaps, sir. Nothing more."
"Supposing you were spotted?"
The Commander sat up quickly and looked anxiously at the mids.h.i.+pman.
"Then it would be unlucky for me, sir," came d.i.c.k's steady answer. "Of course, you and Alec would work hard to get back to the s.h.i.+p. But I haven't been spotted yet, and don't mean to be. Someone's got to go out, and I'm that someone, for I can understand these people. Now, Alec, give me a help with this gear. Say, how do I look? Fairly smart, eh? That fez always makes a fellow look fetching."
d.i.c.k made certainly quite a smart officer once he was dressed in the greatcoat, belts, and pouches of his late a.s.sailant, while the fez gave him quite an Oriental appearance. Indeed, the Commander was delighted.
"I don't half like letting you go, d.i.c.k," he said. "I'm the one who should be taking this sort of risk. But there--I couldn't stand steadily, and am therefore useless. Lad, shake hands. I'm glad you belong to us, and I must say that you two youngsters have done handsomely."
d.i.c.k coloured redly. Alec shuffled his feet and felt positively uncomfortable. And then the former gripped each of his companions in turn by the hand, saluted his officer, and turning, went out of the room. They heard the front door bang. They heard his steps on the cobbles, and looking out, Alec saw his chum strolling nonchalantly down the street. Then he turned into another, and in an instant was lost to view.
"Gone! Out of sight," he said, turning and speaking almost dismally to the Commander.
"And good luck go with him! A plucky lad, a very plucky fellow!" cried the officer. "But don't let's fret about him, for a mids.h.i.+pman's a mids.h.i.+pman all over the world and a wonder at getting into and out of sc.r.a.pes. Now, let's see if we can get a fire going, for it's cold in this room and I'm positively s.h.i.+vering."
It may be wondered meanwhile what had happened to the gallant Major who had left the airs.h.i.+p just two nights previous to d.i.c.k and his fellows.
If they had but known the truth he had set foot in this beleaguered city within some fifty yards of the spot where they had landed. And then all his efforts had been concentrated on the task of finding that elusive individual known as Charlie. He groped his way around buildings and along streets; and for hours haunted the precincts of that huge mosque which the elusive Charlie had denoted as his probable location. The dawn was breaking indeed before he thought of his own personal safety and the need for some hiding-place. For the Major cut a conspicuous figure wherever he happened to be. He looked, in fact, precisely what he was, a soldier and a gentleman. Nor must the reader imagine for one moment that he and "Charlie", the high-placed officer of whom he had spoken, were merely spies engaged on some dangerous espionage. There is spying and spying. There is the patriot who for the sake of his country, not for mere filthy lucre or out of burning curiosity, will investigate matters of moment, such as guns and forts and equipment used by possible enemies of his country. And there are others who from the same patriotic motives will endeavour to fathom some new negotiations between Powers other than his own, some diplomatic move, some international conspiracy hatched in the secret recesses of foreign offices, perhaps never set down on paper, never signed and sealed, merely a secret compact, but still something of vital importance for his own people. We do not profess to guess what precisely was the business upon which the Major and his friend had been engaged. It was secret, it was of vital importance, and it was of the utmost delicacy. Let us, then, leave it there, merely remembering that the elusive Charlie had intimated to the Major that he had succeeded in his mission, while the authorities at home had thought so much of the matter and desired that information so greatly that they posted the Major to the great airs.h.i.+p when on her world-wide tour, and urged Andrew and Joe Gresson to hazard a visit to Adrianople, even at the risk of wrecking a machine than which nothing would appear to be more valuable to Great Britain.
It was with an inner knowledge of this delicate affair that the Major strove to discover his friend, and for the moment we will leave him hastening through the streets of the city, gazing into the faces of pa.s.sers-by as the dawn drew near, and risking discovery. In fact, he merely forestalled d.i.c.k, for the young mids.h.i.+pman was now engaged in a similar task with similar risks, seeking eagerly for those for whom he and his friends had descended from the airs.h.i.+p.
"And it's like looking for the usual needle in the usual bundle of hay,"
he grumbled, as he dived into another street and strode down it. "A mighty small needle, by jingo! and an awfully big bundle of hay. But there's always the mosque. That must be the big one, and I don't go a step farther from it. My first job is to investigate every corner. So round we go. We'll do the outside first, and then dive in."
People hurried past him, civilians with wan, lean forms and faces.
Half-starved soldiers dressed in rags, unshaven for weeks past, dragged their weary limbs past him. An officer, a dapper enough fellow at one time no doubt, stepped into the street before him, turned a hurried gaze upon him, and then retreated with haste.
"Funny, that. Spotted me, eh?" d.i.c.k asked himself. "Then why did he bolt as if he were afraid of me?"
It was a problem to which he gave his mind for some few minutes. He was still worrying it out when almost a similar thing took place. Two soldiers, under-officers without a doubt, tattered and dishevelled, emerged from a doorway and halted immediately outside to peer up and down the street. On seeing d.i.c.k's jaunty figure they bolted, positively bolted.
"This beats me hollow," that young gentleman grumbled. "What's the matter with me, or--er--with those jolly beggars? Surely it can't be that they're--jingo! it looks it. What did that officer say?"
His mind went back to the encounter he had some little time before and to the manner in which his a.s.sailant had accosted him. He recollected that Adrianople was then being fiercely a.s.saulted. If he had been inclined to forget that fact there was the firing to tell him, that and the roar of sh.e.l.ls raining round the city. Yes, he could hear the battle ebbing and flowing in the distance about the outlying forts which protected all approaches to Adrianople.
"Got it!" he cried. "What have the papers said? Let's see. Little enough, for correspondents have been barred and news sent by some of them at least has been secondhand information written up in a house perhaps a hundred miles from the fighting. But there's been awful disorganization amongst the Turkish battalions. Men have been anywhere at times except where they were wanted. Officers have lost their commands, while, what with hards.h.i.+p, fear of wounds or worse, and starvation, soldiers have strayed from their ranks or actually deserted.
Jingo! That's it. The fellows who have been scared of me are s.h.i.+rkers.
Lor! there seem to be a good many of 'em. That don't say much for the chances of the defenders."
In any case the discovery he had made was of little moment and gave him no help in his search. But it did put a little more dash and swagger into our hero.
"If they don't see anything wrong about me and get scared so easily, why, others'll be the same," d.i.c.k told himself with a grin. "I'll cut a dash next time I meet a soldier. A bit of bounce'll help to deceive 'em."
He carried the plan out in a manner which would have made Alec scream with laughing, for d.i.c.k was really too bold for anything. Meeting a squad of men some few minutes later escorting an ammunition cart along one of the streets he clanked his sword loudly, squared his shoulders, and took their salute without a falter.
"My word! That's better," he grinned. "I'll be ordering 'em about before I've done with this business. Hallo! A guard-house, eh? Yes, sentry posted outside. Jingo, call him a sentry! Of course, I know the poor beggar's been more than half starved for weeks past. But, what a figure!"