Chapter 20

THE KHEDIVE TAKES THE LAST TRICK—BUT ONE.

We reached Port Said without interruption at five o’clock on a gloomy afternoon, and my father managed to get his papers signed so he could clear the port an hour later.

We had used our steam to make the journey through the Canal, and so we determined to steam for the next twelve hours, at least, in order to show our heel to Egypt as soon as possible.

Heading slowly down the harbor we were surprised at being hailed by a small government launch flying the Egyptian flag, which pressed close to our side, while an officer in uniform stood up and gesticulated wildly toward us.

“What’s wanted?” asked Captain Steele, leaning over the rail.

“Stop! Wait!” cried the fat officer, brokenly. “I must come on board.”

“Hike along, then,” called my father, but made no signal to stop the engines.

We were moving very slowly, for we had to steer clear of the numerous craft anchored in the harbor, so the launch grappled our side and Ned let down a ladder which the official clutched and swarmed overboard with surprising agility.

“Stop! Go back!” he shouted, as soon as he reached the deck. “This ship is the ship Seagull; it is arrest—you are all arrest!”

“What for?” demanded the Captain.

“I have instruction from his Excellency the Minister of Finance to stop you. You must not leave Egypt, he say. You have treasure on board—treasure contraband to the Egyptian Government.”

We stared at one another aghast. How in the world had this information come to the ears of the government? and what should we do—what could we do—in this emergency? Arrest and confiscation first, and a legal battle to follow! We shuddered even to contemplate such a difficulty.

“Crowd on full steam, Tomlinson,” said Captain Steele to the Chief Engineer, who stood beside him. The man saluted with a smile and retired to obey.

“As for you,” continued my father, turning to the officer, “I advise you to get back to your boat in double quick time. We’ve got our papers, in reg’lar fashion, and we’re free American citizens. You can’t arrest us a single minute—you or your whole blamed Egyptian outfit.”

“But I command! You are under my arrest! You are criminal!” screamed the fat man, stubbornly. “In the name of——”

“In the name of Sam Hill, throw the cuss overboard!” roared the Captain, losing all patience.

To my horror Ned promptly obeyed and the pompous official tumbled over the rail head first and disappeared with a splash in the water below.

Those in the launch shouted excitedly and let go our side to rescue their superior. He bobbed up a minute later and they grabbed him with a boat-hook and drew him, dripping and gasping, aboard their boat.

But it was too late for them to board us again. Our propeller was by this time whirling rapidly and churning the water into a creamy streak in our wake. Slowly we drew away from the government boat, which puffed after us at its best gait, the inmates shaking their fists at us threateningly but in vain. Presently we lost sight of them altogether in the gloom, for twilight was fast falling.

Out into the blue waters of the great Mediterranean we sped and I for one greeted the expanse gratefully. We had narrowly escaped a serious disaster, for if the Khedive had once gripped our hard-won treasure we should never have set eyes on it again. Also we might have found ourselves and our ship hopelessly compromised in the meshes of Egyptian law.

We headed for the southwest point of the island of Sicily, for we dared not undertake to pass the straits of Messina. This way would also bring us sooner to Gibraltar, and we determined to head our course between Tunis and Sicily, out of the beaten path of ships, and to keep away from any port until we were afloat on the broad Atlantic.

All night our engines throbbed powerfully and we sped swiftly on our course. By morning we began to feel we were out of danger, and at breakfast I decided that during the forenoon we would open the canvas sacks and take a good look at our treasure. But while we still sat at table the mate came down with a grave face to report that a man-o’-war had just been sighted and was bearing down on us.

We rushed eagerly on deck to inspect the boat through our glasses and made her out easily enough. She was a big armored cruiser, heavily armed, and seemed intent on heading us off.

“But we may be more scared than hurt,” remarked my father, calmly. “All nations have men-o’-war in these waters, and it ain’t a bit strange we should run across one. Like as not she won’t mind us at all.”

“But the course she’s headed won’t take her to any port in creation,” observed Ned, shaking his head dolefully. “She’s after the Seagull, sure enough.”

It really looked that way, and we stood with bated breath and watched the huge hulk come on. It would be folly to try to run away; still we did not pause an instant.

In an hour she was less than a mile to leeward, and soon we saw a puff of smoke followed by a shot that flew singing across our bow. At the same time she hoisted her flag peak and Ned took a look at it through his glass.

“Egypt,” he said, laconically, and my heart sank like a chunk of lead.

“The jig’s up, fellows,” I said, mournfully. “Joe, my lad, you’ve been rich for nearly a whole day. To-night you’ll be a pauper again.”

Joe grinned, but not with a pleasant expression, and turned away to vanish below deck. I was really sorry for the poor chap—and sorry for ourselves, too.

“Never mind,” said Archie, consolingly; “we’ve had a lot of fun, anyhow. The Khedive can’t rob us of that.”

As Captain Steele hesitated to obey the first shot a second one quickly followed, and this came so near to piercing the hull of his beloved Seagull that my father uttered a gruff explanation and ordered Ned to lay to. The engines were stopped and slowly we lost way and floated quietly upon the sea, which was smooth as a mill-pond. The sky was overcast with a mantle of solid gray and not a breath of wind was stirring.

Had we not been so preoccupied with other matters I am sure we would ere this have been speculating on the queer atmospheric conditions that prevailed, and wondering what they might portend.

The cruiser slowed up near by and lowered a gig, which was speedily manned. Then, being rowed with admirable precision, it shot across the space which separated us and came alongside. We threw out a boarding ladder and two officers climbed it and a minute later stood upon our deck, where they inquired courteously for the Captain. They were fine-looking fellows, middle-aged and with an air of breeding. Their duty, whatever it might be, would doubtless be performed in a gentlemanly manner.

My father advanced to announce that he commanded the Seagull and would be glad to know by what authority he was arrested on the high seas.

Said the elder of the two: “You resisted an officer of the Egyptian government in the harbor of Port Said, and escaped. We consider you still our prisoner, although you have fled into neutral waters.”

“My papers are regular, sir, and you have no right to arrest me or to fire upon my ship,” returned my father, boldly. “If you persist in your illegal and high-handed course, sir, you will make this an international affair,” he added.

“There is little danger of that, Captain Steele,” answered the officer, with a smile. “It may be we have exceeded our authority in arresting you here; but kindly permit me to state our case. In Egypt you dug up a treasure—an important treasure—which you are now carrying away in defiance of our laws. We should not have permitted your ship to clear our port, I admit, but unfortunately we did not receive the news of your misdemeanor in time to prevent by force your escape. However, we do not intend to be robbed. Our instructions from the Minister of War at Cairo are positive. We are told to recover the treasure or send your ship to the bottom of the sea—or to do both, at our discretion. The matter of legality we will not discuss. We have the power to take this treasure if you refuse to give it up cheerfully, and I assure you we will do so. That is all. I await your decision, Captain.”

Well, there was nothing for us to do but give up the treasure. If we tried to withhold it we would lose both the treasure and the Seagull. We held a short conference, however, Uncle Naboth, Ned and Archie being present besides my father and myself. Joe was also an interested partner, but was not on deck and we had no time to hunt him up.

We decided there was but one way out of our difficulty. The American government would scarcely support us in a claim for damages, under such peculiar circumstances; and this the clever Turks knew as well as we did.

The thing that most amazed us was the accuracy of their information, and we wondered who could have revealed to the government the fact that we had secured the treasure. Abdul Hashim was dead, but some of his tribe might have learned our secret and reported it to the authorities in order to obtain vengeance for their sheik’s death. Or the villagers of Laketa, who had seen the treasure in Gege-Merak’s possession, might have disclosed the information. We did not suspect Ketti for a moment.

Anyway, the mischief was out and it only remained for us to give up the treasure and make our way homeward somewhat the poorer for our unsuccessful enterprise.

“Pardon me, gentlemen, if I ask you to make haste,” said one of the Turkish officers, stepping to our side. “The simoon is threatening both our ships, so we are anxious to finish our errand and be gone.”

Indeed, the day had grown suddenly darker and the sea sighed audibly, although it was perfectly still. My father looked anxiously at his bare rigging and hurried away to give an order for additional security. Ned followed him, and Uncle Naboth turned to me and said, with almost a groan:

“Give ’em the treasure, Sam, an’ let’s be done with the blamed Egyptians forever.”

I bowed to the officer.

“If you will come below you shall have it,” I said; “but you’d better get a couple of your men to help carry it.”

He went to the side and shouted an order, and two of the men from the gig sprang on deck. I took them to my stateroom, threw open the lid of the great chest and said:

“There, gentlemen, is the entire treasure, including the rolls of papyrus. If you doubt that it is all here, you are welcome to search the ship.”

They lugged it all away and I sighed to think we had never obtained so much as one good view of the plunder we had been at so much pains to gain. The canvas sacks still bore the original seals which Van Dorn had placed upon them in the desert beside the pit.

When the last sack was in the boat they did delay to search the ship, to my extreme disgust. But their search was hasty and perfunctory, and after visiting the other cabins and peering into the forecastle and galley—as if we would keep treasure hidden in such places!—they finally got into the gig to return to their ship. I demanded a receipt, but they refused to give one, mumbling that the threatening simoon was likely to strike us any minute.

And then they cast off and rowed away toward their own vessel, making such speed as they could; but unfortunately they had delayed too long. The simoon struck us like a blow and the Seagull keeled over at a dangerous angle and trembled through every beam.

As I clung desperately to the rail my eyes followed the Turkish gig, and I saw its prow rise from the water as the whirling cloud of mingled wind and sand caught it, and dump its occupants—officers, men and all—into the now seething flood. Yes, the treasure went, too—the priceless historic papyri, the golden ornaments and splendid jewels of the great priests of Karnak—all, all were swallowed up by the waters and vanished forever from the sight of men!

The wrecked gig was only a mass of splinters. They shot life-lines from the deck of the cruiser and these were clutched by those of the boat’s crew who rose again to the surface. But I cannot say how many of those ill-fated Turks were finally rescued. For we had our own ship’s safety to look after, and when the dreadful simoon had subsided, which it did as suddenly as it had appeared, but after several hours of terror, the Khedive’s man-o’-war was but a dim speck upon the horizon, and soon we had lost sight of her altogether.

When, the strain being at last over, we met together in the main cabin for supper, it was a dismal enough lot of faces that surrounded the table. Except Joe. Joe did not seem dismal at all. He smiled upon us most cheerfully, until we all hated the boy for his good nature under such trying circumstances.

No one, however, cared to mention our great loss—which was in everyone’s mind—except Archie, who growled out:

“Why in thunder couldn’t the simoon have arrived an hour or so earlier, before we were robbed?”

But we chose not to heed the wail. Fate has her own way of ordaining things.

I rose abruptly and passed into my cabin, and to my surprise Joe followed. As he lighted my lamp and turned up the wick so that it illumined the room brightly, I heard him whistling softly to himself.

The boy annoyed me, and I turned upon him rather savagely.

“You seem quite content to have lost your inheritance,” said I; “but the rest of us are not so well satisfied. Can’t you try to respect our feelings?”

He grinned at me most provokingly.

“Strikes me we’ve got something yet to be thankful for, sir,” he replied. “The Turks didn’t bag so much treasure as they thought they did.”

I stared at him with sudden interest.

“What do you mean, Joe?”

He stepped to my bunk and drew back the curtains. Then he threw aside the blanket and disclosed the berth heaped full with glittering jewels and golden ornaments that sparkled brightly under the clear rays of the lamp.

My cry brought the others running hastily into the room, but as their gaze followed my own and fell upon the mass of treasure they stood mute and still, filled with a wonder that fairly dulled their senses.

At last Uncle Naboth tumbled into a chair and began mopping his forehead with his red silk handkerchief, and I awoke far enough to ask, in an awed whisper:

“How did it happen, Joe?”

“Why, it was dead easy, Sam,” he replied with a laugh. “As soon as that infernal gunboat fired at us I knew something had to be done to save the treasure. So I ran down here and ripped open the seams at the bottom of all those canvas sacks, and dumped about three-quarters of the contents of each one of ’em into your berth. I left some of the stuff in the ends of the sacks that were tied and sealed, so if the Egyptians opened any of ’em they’d think they were still loaded all the way down with jewelry. Then I had to fill up the spaces, and that was harder than you’d think. I first chucked in all the old bits of iron and brass I could find in the junk-chest; but that wasn’t near enough. So I ran to the galley and got Bry to give me a lot of potatoes and a bag of beans. With these I filled up the treasure sacks and then sewed up all the seams again. It took some time to do this, and the only way I could hide the treasure was to cover it up with this blanket and draw the curtains. Mebbe I wasn’t scared stiff when the officers came down here! But they never thought to search the bunk in this cabin, though they went through all the others. I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t empty the bags entirely, for they never opened any of ’em; but I thought it was best not to take too many chances, and I guess we’ve saved about two-thirds of all the treasure we brought from the desert—except, of course, the rolls of writing, and those we didn’t care so much for, anyhow.”

By the time the boy had finished this speech he was the focus of all our admiring eyes.

“Don’t worry about what’s lost, Joe,” said Uncle Naboth, earnestly. “There’s enough left to make us all rich; an’ we owe it to your pluck and wit—an’ to nothin’ else.”

“Three cheers for Joe!” yelled Archie, joyously.

“Pshaw!” said Joe, flushing red, “what else was there to do?”

Three weeks after we anchored safely in Boston harbor, and before many days had passed Uncle Naboth’s prediction was amply fulfilled. The proceeds of the treasure made us all, in our humble stations, “rich,” and Joe’s share, being so much the largest, made him very rich indeed.

THE END.

Footnotes:

[1] Pronounced “Gay-gay Maw-rock.”

[2] Boys—young men.

[3] Judge of the court.