"Yes," replied the Commandant, smiling, "but when I have heard you two gentlemen cross-examined by His Excellency, I shall know more about what has been going on. Now I will give you a piece of advice: when you are asked questions, answer straightforwardly, and tell all you know. You will save us all a vast amount of trouble, and you will not do yourselves any harm. Of course we have spies everywhere, but we cannot rely on them entirely, and in any case the views and opinions of two intelligent Englishmen will be of more value to us than the information supplied by a hundred Bedouin spies. The Governor is to interview you this afternoon, and I have no doubt that, before that takes place, you would like the services of a barber, and would wish to have a bath, and some European clothes. I daresay we shall be able to provide them for you."
We were delighted with the turn of events, and agreed to help the Governor with any information that we were able to give, and we jumped at the suggestion of cleaning ourselves up. So calling an orderly, the Commandant told him to conduct us to the bath. There a real surprise awaited us, for no sooner did we enter the room than we saw Edwards's Persian servant boy, busying himself with towels and soap.
"What, Aziz!" gasped Edwards, gazing at him in blank astonishment. "How, in heaven's name, did you get here?"
"Hoozoor," answered the lad, beaming with joy at the sight of his long-lost master, "I was ordered some days back, to pack clothes for your highness and the other sahib, and to leave Baghdad with the dragoman and some zaptiehs, and to come to Hillah. I suffered much on the road from fear of robbers, who were reported to be numerous, but, praise be to Allah, we arrived here safely."
"Where is Dimitri Sahib?" asked Edwards.
"He journeyed a few days since to Meshed Ali," said Aziz, "saying that he went to meet you, and would return with you here."
Then we plied the boy with questions, in the attempt to discover what rumour had said about us, but we could get no coherent story out of him.
From what we could gather, at first we were supposed to have been murdered; but, after a time, a report came that we had turned Mohammedans, and were living with the people of some distant desert town. But he did not appear to know very much, and he harked back continuously to what was evidently the most important thing in the world, viz., that he, Aziz, had braved the perils of the journey from Baghdad to Hillah--in his eyes as great an event as a pilgrimage to Mecca. We forgave him, however, for his inability to provide us with news, chiefly because of the skill that he had displayed in his selection of the clothes which he thought we would require. He had forgotten nothing; and it was a real delight to us, after we had passed through the hands of the barber and revelled in our baths, to get into true British suits again.
Our toilet completed, we returned, with the patient orderly who had been waiting for us, to our quarters, where we found the Commandant and several other officers ready to accompany us to the Governor's audience.
The Commandant looked us up and down with apparent satisfaction, and then we all marched off. Whether we were still supposed to be prisoners I could not make out; at any rate, we walked along by the side of the Commandant, and conversed with him as if we were his oldest friends, until we reached our destination when everyone suddenly assumed an official air.
A verbatim report of what took place at the great interview which followed I shall not attempt to give. I doubt if any shorthand writer could have done justice to it, for it was what may be described as unconventional. We were treated by the Governor with the greatest deference, and we were asked innumerable questions on everything connected with the desert and the people whom we had come across. The Aeniza and the Shammar, however, did not interest them much, as they were regarded, like mosquitoes, as necessary evils. What they wanted information about was Adiba and the trouble with Hayil, and on this topic we were considered to be (as indeed we probably were) the best authorities. Between us, we related our experiences with Ali Khan, and gave a graphic description of the bombardment of his town and of his enforced flight, striving to impress upon our listeners that he had been basely betrayed by his Arab doctors, and that the Amir of Hayil had behaved in a most high-handed manner. The dropping of the proverbial pin could have been heard while Edwards gave his account of his treatment of the sick child, and his description of the way in which he had outwitted his rival physicians was received with no little applause. Ali Khan became the hero of the hour, and the tyrant of Hayil was freely cursed.
Many and various were the questions asked us about the road to Adiba, about the town itself, and about the strength of its defences, and then we learned that Hayil was in the bad books of the Ottoman Empire, and that the Turkish troops would probably be ordered to conduct Ali Khan back to Adiba.
So far we had got on capitally, and had quite enjoyed the interview.
Now, however, the conversation took an awkward turn, and the Governor's questions became more or less of a personal nature.
"Some four months ago," said our inquisitor, "you two gentlemen were here, in Hillah. You left the town against the wishes of the Captain of Police; he, poor man, is no more, but I possess a document signed by yourselves, and its contents you will probably remember. In it you stated that you determined to visit certain tribes of the desert, even although he warned you that to do so might place himself and his Government in difficulties. What have you to answer on that count?"
"Nothing," I replied, "except that we regret to have been the cause of any inconvenience to your Government. We were anxious to visit the Bedouins in their encampments, and we were willing to accept all risk in so doing."
"Have you considered," continued the Governor, "what has resulted from your headstrong behaviour? Possibly you may not have given it a thought.
Know, then, that had you not cast yourselves adrift in the desert, all this trouble with Adiba and Hayil would never have occurred, and my Government would not now be called upon to expend vast sums of money in restoring order in those outlying provinces. Think again of the misfortunes of Ali Khan and of all his people, driven from their homes into the pitiless desert. Think of those homes, even when the people once more return to them; many destroyed by shells, many burnt to the ground, and all pillaged."
We stood before the assembly, with heads hung down, and feeling as uncomfortable as any pair of naughty schoolboys, while our tormentor, who was a word-painter of no mean order, continued to lash us with his tongue. When, at length, he stopped, I took courage and spoke out.
"Your Excellency," I said, humbly, "all that you have said, we acknowledge to be true, and your condemnation of us appears to be just.
Yet, on more than one occasion, we offered full apologies to our protector, Ali Khan, for the great troubles that we had brought on himself and his people; and not only did he freely forgive us everything, but he even told us that he would not have it otherwise, since he considered that, had we not visited Adiba, his child would have died."
"And in return for such generosity," said the Governor, haranguing us again, "you thought it right, when within a few marches of Meshed Ali, to desert your kind host, and not only to desert him, but also to liberate three of his lawful prisoners and to steal five of his horses.
Why you should have acted thus we cannot understand."
The speaker was now wound up, and refused to allow himself to be interrupted, so we were forced to remain silent and listen to what he had to say. He told us how, when we first disappeared from Hillah, and did not return, our escort had proceeded for some distance into the desert in search of us, but failing to find any trace of us went back to Baghdad with the news that we had surely perished. The British Consul-General then induced the authorities to make inquiries about us, and at last it was reported that we had reached Adiba, and were the guests of Ali Khan. Subsequently came the news of the downfall of Adiba, and that we were with the sheik's party in flight towards Meshed Ali.
Naturally it was supposed that we would enter that town with Ali Khan; and the British Consul-General, having been informed of events, despatched his dragoman, Dimitri, to meet us and take us back to Baghdad. As far as he himself was concerned, concluded the Governor, the matter was at an end; he did not wish to intrude in our private affairs, as our Consul-General had agreed to hold a full inquiry into our conduct, which would doubtless form the subject of lengthy negotiations between the two Governments, in all probability ending in the payment of full compensation.
"On one point, however," said he, "I am anxious for information: the sick man whom you brought with you. How did you meet with him?"
"We found him yesterday," I replied, "close to the Birs Nimroud, and he seemed so ill that we abandoned our intention of journeying to Baghdad, in order to bring the man to your hospital."
"He shall be properly attended to," said the Governor, "and for what he has done he will have to account later on."
We were not sorry when the call to evening prayer closed the interview, and the Governor, shaking hands with us, consigned us to the care of the Commandant. With the latter we returned to the barracks, and on the way learned that we were to be on parole, until the dragoman should take charge of us. Our restraint was not very irksome, for the Commandant and other officers went out of their way to make themselves agreeable to us, and were evidently proud of having the opportunity of making the acquaintance of men who had penetrated so far into the desert. How much more interested they would have been, if they had known the whole story of our wanderings!
That night Edwards and I talked matters over, and I found that he was wretchedly down-hearted about the future. If things were really as bad, he argued, as the Governor had made out, it was all up with him and his appointment. The Consul-General would, of course, refuse to let him return to duty at Baghdad, and though he might possibly be ordered to India to assume medical charge of a native regiment, the chances were that he had already been either cashiered, or removed from the service for absence without leave.
"As to you," he said, "you have nothing to lose, since you do not hold any official appointment; and you do not understand what it may mean to me to be thrown on the world, without anything to do."
He was so doleful about it all, that he positively made me laugh.
"There is always Adiba," I said. "Ali Khan will take you back with him as physician in ordinary, I am sure, if you ask him nicely."
But he was not to be comforted; and thinking it advisable to leave him alone, I went outside and paced up and down in the moonlight. While thus occupied, I encountered the Commandant, who had just returned from dining with the Governor, and was coming to see us on important business. I told him that my companion was not feeling well and had already gone to bed; so he unburdened his mind to me. Our escapades had been the subject of discussion at the Governor's dinner party, and the end of it was that the Governor had decided that, as Dimitri had not yet been informed of our arrival at Hillah, we should be sent to Meshed Ali and be handed over to him there. It struck me at once as a somewhat strange proceeding, because Meshed Ali and Baghdad lay on opposite sides of Hillah, and there seemed to be no reason for sending us off on a three days' journey and bringing us back again. But on my remarking on this to the Commandant, I was told that the Governor considered that we should be given the opportunity of renewing our friendship with Ali Khan, and of explaining to him why we had deserted him. We were to start early in the morning, and the Commandant himself would accompany us. I expressed myself as delighted at the idea of a visit to Meshed Ali, and of once again seeing Ali Khan; and after arranging that we would be ready to set out soon after daybreak, I bade the Commandant "good-night," and went off to break the news to Edwards. To my surprise, he seemed quite agreeable to fall in with the new plan, saying that the sooner he met Dimitri, the better pleased he should be, as he was anxious to find out how he stood with the Consul-General.
Our ride to Nejf, or Meshed Ali, was a three days' picnic; we had everything that we could want, a large escort, the companionship of the cheery Commandant, the services of a cook who served up excellent dinners, and Edwards's boy, Aziz, to wait upon us. Even Edwards forgot his sorrows, and agreed with me that we were being treated right royally.
"I suppose it will all go down in the bill," said he.
"What bill?" I asked.
"Why, the matter of the compensation to which the Governor referred--the cost of all our evil deeds," said Edwards.
"Let us live in the present," said I, "and eat and drink all the good things that we can. What is the use of worrying about the future, and about such a hopeless thing as compensation? When nations begin to discuss compensation, it means thousands, if not millions, of pounds.
How do you imagine that anyone is going to squeeze a paltry thousand pounds, or even a hundred pounds, out of two such paupers as you and me?
My worldly possessions consist of the fifty golden sovereigns in my salvaged money-belt, and they really belong to my uncle. So away with dull care, and let the future look after itself."
"Excellent advice in theory," said Edwards. "However, I will try it for a bit, and will be ever so jovial."
"Good man!" said I. "By the way, I wonder how that poor unfortunate Kellner is getting on. Do you suppose we shall be able to take him to Baghdad with us?"
"I should think not," said Edwards; "besides, he is much better off where he is. I expect that the man in charge of the hospital knows quite as much about his business as I do, and the long journey to Baghdad would probably throw the patient back, and as likely as not kill him."
"Then," said I, "I think I shall try and stay at Hillah for a week or two."
"What on earth for?" asked Edwards.
"To look after Kellner," I replied.
"What possible good do you think you can do him?"
"He might want to ease his mind," said I, laughing. "People do have things on their mind sometimes, when they are sick. He might wish to tell me, for instance, what has become of the Golden Girdle."
"Still that old, old story," said my companion sadly. "Surely you and your Will-o'-the-wisp have done enough harm already. The words of wisdom which we heard in Hillah the other day do not seem to have made much impression on you."
"Water off a duck's back, old man," I replied. "When I have laid Sophana's Serpent Belt at the feet of my uncle, then will I repent of all my sins, and be good for ever afterwards."
CHAPTER XX.
RE-UNION.