At Aboukir and Acre: A Story of Napoleon's Invasion of Egypt

Shells fell fast on the mosque, and fires broke out in several parts of the town. Edgar joined a group of several civilians, who, having either been hidden during the massacre or having escaped to the French lines, now came up, deeming that they would be safer near the troops than elsewhere. All had stories of hairbreadth escapes to relate, but, feigning not to be able to follow their narratives, Edgar, after a few words in Italian, joined the troops, who were engaged in eating the food that they had brought with them.

At three o'clock a tremendous roar of fire in the direction of Fort Dupres burst out, as some seven or eight thousand of the insurgents, among whom were a number of Arabs, poured out from the nearest gate to endeavour to carry the battery, while at the same moment a tremendous musketry fire from the minarets and roof of the Mosque of Hassan, and from the houses near the wall, was poured at the French artillerymen, to prevent them from working their guns upon their assailants. Gonmartin, however, had with him three battalions of infantry and 300 cavalry, and with these he charged the advancing crowd. The Arabs fought bravely, but were, for the most part, slain, and the insurgents, unable to stand the heavy volleys, followed by a bayonet charge of the infantry, fled back to the gate from which they had sallied out, 400 of them being taken prisoners and sent to the citadel.

A great number of the fugitives fled to the Mosque of Gama El Ashar, which was now crowded. Their reports of the disaster shook the courage of those already there, and when four columns of French infantry emerged simultaneously from the ends of as many streets, the fire opened upon them from the roof of the mosque was but feeble. Six guns were instantly placed commanding its gate, which was shattered after two or three rounds had been fired, and then, with a shout, the infantry rushed in and commenced the work of slaughter. This was terrible, no quarter was given, and some 6000 Moslems perished there, while 2000 had been killed in the previous fighting.

Satisfied with this terrible act of vengeance, the French troops were marched back to the square they had left in the morning, Bonaparte being sure that there would be no more rioting after the terrible lesson that had been taught the inhabitants. Late in the evening, indeed, the chief men waited upon him and implored mercy for the town. Several of them had been members of the council who directed the movement, but they represented that they had been compelled to act against their will, and Napoleon, satisfied that there would be no more troubles, pardoned them on condition of their at once issuing a proclamation condemning the rioters, and ordering all to return to their ordinary avocations, and to hand over to the authorities any who should preach mischief.

After the capture of the mosque, Edgar went down to the great square occupied by the French, and gathered from the talk of the officers there the result of the sortie. All agreed that the Arabs had fought bravely, and that few indeed had left the field alive. Edgar made his way out of the town by the Boulak gate, which was still open, and found the two Arabs still at the spot where he had left them when he and Sidi rode off to meet the chief at the Pyramids. They were full of excitement at the battle that had raged all day.

"I have bad news," he said. "I rode with the sheik and his son against the French. My horse was killed, and I received a wound in the arm, but, as you see, I obtained a disguise, and have escaped without further harm. You heard that there was a great fight outside the walls?"

"Yes, my lord. Many men came running past here, and said that the French had beaten them."

"I greatly fear," Edgar went on, "that the sheik and his son took part in that fight. Many Arabs went out with those who attacked the battery, and I think it almost certain that the sheik and his son were among them. Most of the tribesmen were killed in the fight in which I was wounded. The sheik would have joined his countrymen, knowing that there would be no mercy shown the Arabs taken in the town. I hear that almost every one of those who rode out were killed, and I want you to come with me to search among the dead, for doubtless there are many wounded among them, and one or other may yet be alive. There will be a bright moon, and we shall have no difficulty in recognizing them. It will be necessary only to search among those in white."

The two men were greatly moved at the thought of the fate of their chief, his son, and so many of their followers, and assented at once to his proposal.

"We must wait until it gets quite dark," Edgar said. "Have you any food, for I am faint with hunger and loss of blood?"

After he had finished his meal, the horses were handed over by the Arabs to the care of one of their neighbours, with whom they had made acquaintance. The rough tent was pulled down in order that they might wrap the dark blankets over them to conceal their white clothing.

"You had better leave your pistols behind," Edgar said, "but take your knives; we may come across some ruffians engaged in robbing the dead, and the knives may come in useful. I hope that, as is most likely, the French have sent down parties from the forts to watch the gates, so as to prevent any of the leaders in the trouble from making their escape; but some plunderers may well have come across from Old Cairo, so it is as well to be armed. Take your lances also, not for fighting, but to make a litter with, should we find either the chief or his son."

The sun had set a short time before they started, but the moon would not rise for another hour, and they were unnoticed, or, at least, unquestioned as they went round towards Fort Dupres. Indeed, they encountered no one on the way. The din of battle had been succeeded by a dead silence, no sound was heard from the city, whose population were awe-stricken by the events of the day, and terrified by the expectation of further acts of vengeance by the French. Those in the suburbs had heard but vague rumours of the fighting in the streets and of the massacre at the mosque, but they had learned from fugitives of the defeat of the great sortie, and knew that the insurrection had been completely crushed. The moon was just rising when Edgar and his companions reached the spot between Fort Dupres and the city walls, where the fight had taken place.

The bodies lay thickly piled here at the spots where the struggle had been fiercest. For a time they found none save those of the men of the city, but after two hours' search they came upon a number of Arabs, whose white garments showed up clearly in the moonlight. Lying among them were many bodies of French cavalrymen, showing that the Bedouins had sold their lives dearly. Body after body was carefully examined, a few were found to be still living, and as the Arabs had, at Edgar's orders, brought water-skins with them, they were able to give some little aid to these. Presently they came to a spot where the bodies were more closely heaped than elsewhere and almost as many French as Arabs lay together.

"Now, search most carefully," he whispered, "this is where the last stand was evidently made."

The greatest caution was indeed necessary, for the fort lay a couple of hundred yards away, and the French sentries could be plainly made out against the sky-line as they marched backwards and forwards. Presently one of the Arabs uttered a low exclamation. Lying by the side of his dead horse, and surrounded by the bodies of five or six French cavalry-men, lay the sheik. His white dress was dabbled with blood, one side of his face was laid open by a sabre cut, and four or five patches of blood at various points of his dress pointed to the existence of other wounds. Edgar knelt beside him and placed his ear to his heart.

"Thank God, he still lives!" he exclaimed; "give me your water-skin; Hassan, lift his head." Edgar poured a little water between the sheik's lips, sprinkled some on his face, and then, tearing off a strip of his garment, brought together the edges of the wound in the face, from which blood was still slowly oozing, laid a wad of rag along it, and then bound it tightly with the bandage.

"We must see to the other wounds after we have got him away," he said. "Now, Hassan, do you two bind one of those spare blankets to the shaft of the two spears, wind it round them until the sides are not more than three feet apart."

While the men were doing this he continued to allow a few drops of water to trickle between the sheik's lips. When the stretcher was ready it was laid on the ground beside him; he was gently lifted on to it, the cloak strapped to his horse's saddle was placed under his head, and the other spare blanket thrown over him. Then the two Arabs lifted the ends of the spears on to their shoulders, and, led by Edgar, made their way from the scene of conflict. When they had gone half a mile they laid the sheik down.

"Do you stay here, Ali; pour a little water between his lips occasionally. Hassan and I will go back and look for Sidi."

The sheik was lifted from the blanket, and Hassan, shouldering the litter, they returned at a rapid pace to the spot where they had found the sheik. They had already made a hasty search here before leaving, but without success, and now examined with the greatest care the body of every Arab who had fallen near the spot, for Edgar made sure that, unless he had been previously stricken down, Sidi would have fallen near his father. Again their hunt was unsuccessful. Then they widened their circle until after three hours' search they became convinced that he was not among those who had fallen on the field, that he had either been killed in the city, made prisoner, or escaped altogether. When at last convinced that further search would be useless, they returned to the spot where they had left the sheik.

"He has opened his eyes," Ali said, "and murmured two or three words, but I could not hear what he said."

"There are hopes at any rate that he is not mortally wounded," Edgar said. "Now let us go on again with him; do you two each take one of the spears at his head, I will take my place at his feet; we shall get on faster so."

Bearing down towards the river, they reached, after an hour's fast walking, a grove of palm-trees near a village.

"We will leave him here," Edgar said; "it must be five miles from the town. The French will have enough to do to-day without searching for wounded. Do you two stay with him. If he becomes sensible and wants anything, here is some money, and one of you can get food from the village, but beyond some fresh fruit to make him a cooling drink with, he is not likely to need anything. I shall return at once and enter the town by the Boulak gate as soon as it is open. I heard in the town that there were three or four hundred prisoners taken, and that they were confined in the citadel, and would be tried in the morning. The first thing to do is to find out if Sidi is among them, in which case I shall do all in my power to save him. Pour a little water over my hands, Ali. Wait a moment," and he took up a double handful of the sandy soil, "now pour it on to this. I must get rid of these blood-stains."

After a vigorous rubbing with the wet sand his hands were, as far as he could see in the moonlight, clean, and with a few last words to the men, he started back for the city. It was with difficulty that he made his way to the spot where the horses had been left. It had been a terrible twenty-four hours, with their excitements and emotions, and he had lost a good deal of blood from the flesh wound in his arm. The gray light was just stealing over the sky when he arrived there, and he threw himself down on a secluded spot a short distance from his old camping-ground, and slept for a couple of hours. Waking, he went to the hut, by the side of which the horses were tethered. He and Sidi had spoken several times to the man who lived there, and he possessed two donkeys which worked for hire in the city.

"You do not recognize me?" he said.

The man shook his head.

"I am one of the young Arabs who were staying in the little tent close by. You see I am in disguise. It was not safe to be in the city yesterday in Arab dress, nor is it to-day."

"Of course I remember you now," the man said. "Where are those to whom the horses belong?"

"They are not likely to come here to-day. A friend of theirs was wounded in the fight at Fort Dupres, and they have found him and carried him off. I have been with them. Tell me, is there any blood on my face?"

The man shook his head.

"Now I want you to go to one of the shops near the gate and get food for me. It matters not what it is some kabobs, or a pillau, or anything they may have, and a large bowl of milk. I am faint and weary. Here is money."

In a quarter of an hour the man returned, and Edgar, after eating a hearty breakfast and drinking a quart of milk, felt greatly better.

He now entered the town. There were no signs of renewed fighting, and listening to the talk of the officers near the headquarters, he gathered that Bonaparte had granted a pardon to the inhabitants, but that the prisoners taken in the attack on Fort Dupres, among whom were many of those most deeply concerned in the rising, were to be tried at ten o'clock by court-martial, and that probably a great part of them would be shot.

CHAPTER VII.
SAVED

Hiring a donkey, for he still felt weak, Edgar rode out to the citadel. He found the town gate open, as Napoleon, to show his contempt for the population and his perfect confidence that they would not venture to rise again, had ordered everything to go on as usual. Paying the donkey-boy when within a short distance of the citadel, he sat down on a block of stone a little way off the road, and waited for the hour when the court-martial was to open. From what he had heard in the square he was afraid that the Arab prisoners would all be among those sentenced to death, as the general opinion was that a stern lesson was needed in their case, as they had, with the exception of those dwelling near Alexandria, proved themselves bitterly hostile to the French.

"I am afraid that I shall have to lie," he said to himself. "I hate that, and I would not do it for myself, but the lie will hurt no one and may save Sidi. Anyhow I won't tell more than I can help."

During the two hours that he sat there he made up his mind as to the story that he should tell. As the hour approached, several French officers of rank rode into the citadel. He saw a few people go in on foot, but all were questioned by the sentry at the gate. A few minutes before ten he went up.

"You cannot pass without an order," the sentry said in French.

"I wish to speak to the officer," Edgar replied in a mixture of French and Italian. "I am a witness. I have to give evidence at the trial of one of the scelerats."

The sentry called a non-commissioned officer, who, after speaking a few words to him; entered the guard-house near the gate, and an officer came out.

"What do you want to come in for?" he asked.

"I have evidence to give, monsieur, for one who is, I believe, among the prisoners. He is, like myself, but a lad; but he saved my life from one of those villains of rioters, and slew him with his own hand, when my employer, Signor Pancherasi, and two other of his assistants were killed by them. I would urge this in his favour."

"Well, it is but fair that you should be heard;" and calling a soldier from the guard-house, he told him to accompany Edgar to the spot where the court-martial was to be held, and to inform the officer in charge of the prisoners that the lad desired to give evidence in regard to one of them.

Thanking the officer, Edgar went up with the soldier into the great quadrangle. In one corner were a large number of prisoners, guarded by a line of soldiers with fixed bayonets. Three or four officers were standing on the steps in front of a large open door. One of them, as Edgar passed near, called out to his companion:

"Whom have you got there, my man?"

The soldier led Edgar up to the group, saluted, and stood at attention.

"He has come to give evidence for one of the prisoners, general."

"It must needs be pretty strong evidence then," the officer said, "considering that they were all taken when fighting against us. Well, my lad, who are you?"

"I do not speak French well, monsieur: Italian is my language. My name is Giovanni Baptista. I was in the employ of Signor Pancherasi, who sold goods of our country in the broad street leading up from the square of El-Esbekieh, where your soldiers beat the Arabs yesterday."

"I recognize the young fellow," one of the officers said. "He rushed out, half out of his mind with joy, as I rode past at the head of the column. Well, go on, lad. Tell us what you have got to say."

"Well, monsieur, an Arab boy saved my life when the others were killed. One had fired at me, and the bullet went through my arm, when the Arab, who had some of his people with him, sprang forward, and just as the man was going to rush at me with his scimitar he sprang upon him and stabbed him between the shoulders. I do not remember much more, for I was frightened; but there was a quarrel between him and his Arabs and the others. I think I fainted. When I came to I was alone with the bodies of my master and comrades, and there I remained in hiding until your troops came along."

"But why should this Arab have interfered in your behalf?"

"A few days before, sir, I was going with a parcel of my master's goods through one of the narrow lanes, when I saw two rough men ill-treating an Arab boy. He seemed to be the son of a sheik, and they were trying to rob him and he resisted, and seeing that he was a boy like myself, I shouted at the top of my voice for aid, and ran in with my knife. Then we fought for a minute, but doubtless it would have gone hard with us, had not two of your soldiers, who heard me shouting, come running up, and the men then took to their heels. The young Arab said that his father would show his gratitude to me for having aided him, but I had not heard of him again until, hearing our cries, he ran in with some other Arabs, and, as I have said, saved me from death."

"Let me look at your wound?" the general said. Edgar took off his coat and showed the blood-stained bandage.

"Well, you can look among the prisoners and see if your friend is here. If he is, when you see him brought in you must come in and repeat your story. By the way, how did you understand what this Arab said about his father?"

"I have been out here some years, monsieur, and can speak a little Arabic."

"Well, as you have lost your master, and are out of employment, if you go down to the intendence and say that General Rombaud sent you, and that you can speak enough French and Arabic to get on with, they will find you some employment where you can be of use."

"Thank you very much, monsieur," and, bowing, Edgar went off with the soldier to the group of prisoners.

There were in all about a score of Arabs, and these kept in a body together. To his great joy, he recognized Sidi among them. His head was bound up, and he looked weak and exhausted, but, like his companions, and indeed the great proportion of the prisoners, he maintained an air of indifference to his position. Thinking it as well that he should not be recognized, and feeling sure that the guard would permit no communication to take place with any of the prisoners, Edgar turned away and went and sat down on some steps between the prisoners and those on which the officers were standing. In a few minutes they went in by the door behind them.

Five minutes later a sergeant came out, and calling four men from a company drawn up near the door, went across to the group of prisoners and presently returned with six of them. In a few minutes they came out again. Three of the men, in charge of a single soldier, were marched away in the direction of the gate; the other three were taken to a door a short distance away, thrust in, the door was locked after them, and two soldiers placed there as sentries. The barred windows told their tale, and Edgar had no doubt that the three men who had entered were sentenced to death. In the meantime, another party had taken six more prisoners in. So the matter proceeded for upwards of an hour, five minutes at the outside sufficing for each batch. At the end of this time the group of Arabs was reached. Hitherto about half of the men taken had been suffered to depart, but this time the six Arabs were all taken to the fatal door.

Edgar did not recognize any of them, and indeed, he knew that the greater part of the sheik's followers had fallen in the attack on the French column in the street. Sidi was in the next group, and Edgar rose to his feet, saying to the soldier who still stood by his side, and who had heard the conversation with the general, "That is the lad." The man went with him to the door, told the sentries there that the general's orders were that the witness was to be allowed to enter, and Edgar followed the party into a large room. Six French officers were seated at a table. The president, who was the general who had spoken to him, looked up:

"Is that the lad?" he asked, pointing to Sidi.

"That is he, monsieur."

"As we have heard your testimony, it is not necessary to take it again." Sidi had given a sudden start on hearing Edgar's voice. "This young fellow has testified to us," General Rombaud said to two of the members of the court-martial, who had not been present on the steps when the conversation took place, "that this young Arab saved him from murder at the hands of some of the rabble, by killing the man who was about to slay him, and that he did this in return for a service this young Italian had rendered him in succouring him when attacked, some time before, by two robbers. As he is but a lad, and of course acted under his father's orders, I think we may make him an exception to the rule. You can go free, young sir, but let the narrow escape that you have had be a lesson to you not to venture to mix yourself up in treasonable risings again. You can take him away with you," he added to Edgar.

Sidi moved away from his companions with an unsteady step. He had made up his mind that his fate was sealed, and had been prepared to meet it, and the sudden revulsion of feeling was almost too much for him. He gave his hand silently to Edgar, and as the latter bowed and murmured his thanks to the general, they went out together, one of the soldiers accompanying them. In spite of his Arab stoicism, the tears were running down Sidi's cheeks as they issued into the open air.

"I am not crying for joy that I am freed, brother," he said, "but with pleasure at seeing you alive. When we got to the end of that street and saw, for the first time, that you were not with us, and, looking back, could see that your horse had fallen, we gave you up for dead, and bitterly did my father reproach himself for having permitted you to share in our attack. He is among the dead, brother; I saw him fall. I had been separated from him by the rush of the French horsemen, but I saw him fighting desperately, until at last struck down. Then, almost mad, I struck wildly. I felt a heavy blow on my head, and should have fallen had not a French soldier seized my arm and dragged me across his saddle in front of him. I was dimly conscious of being handed over to the infantry, and placed with some other prisoners. I sank down, and should have bled to death had not an Arab among them bandaged my head. The fight was nearly over then, and I was brought up here."

"I can give you good news, Sidi. I went last night with the two men whom we had left behind, and searched for some hours among the dead for you and your father, and found him at last. He was insensible, but not dead. We carried him off, and the other two are with him in a grove six miles away, and I have every hope that he will recover. He has five or six wounds, but I do not think that any of them are mortal."

Sidi fairly broke down on hearing the news, and nothing further was said until they had issued from the gate. The officer was still there who had spoken to Edgar on entering.

"So you have saved your friend?" he said pleasantly, as Edgar passed. "He is lucky, for I fancy he will be the only one of the Arabs who will issue out of here to-day."

"I thank you much, monsieur, for having let me pass," Edgar said gratefully. "I feared so much that I should not be allowed to enter to speak for him."

The officer nodded, and the two lads went out. They had gone but a hundred yards when Sidi said:

"I must sit down for a while, Edgar. I have eaten nothing since yesterday morning, and I have lost much blood, and all this happiness is too much for me. Don't think me very childish."

"I don't think you so at all, Sidi. It has been a fearful time, and I don't wonder that you are upset. Look, there is a quiet spot between those two huts. Do you sit down there; you can't go on as you are. In the first place, your dress is covered with blood; and in the next, you are too weak to walk. I will go into the town. There are plenty of shops close to the gate, and I will buy a burnoose that will cover you, and a change of clothes for you to make afterwards. I will get you some food and a little cordial."

Sidi shook his head.

"Nonsense, man!" Edgar went on. "This is medicine, not wine, and you must take something of the sort or you won't be fit to travel. I shall get some fellah's clothes for myself, a basket of food and other things to take out to your father, and I will hire a couple of donkeys. You are no more fit to walk six miles than you are to fly, and I feel rather shaky myself. I sha'n't be away more than half an hour."

After seeing Sidi seated in the place he had indicated, where he would not be seen by those passing on the road, Edgar at once went in through the gate. The provisions, and two or three bottles of good wine, were quickly purchased, but it took him some little time getting the clothes, for had he not bargained in the usual way, it would have seemed strange. As it was, the man of whom he purchased them congratulated himself on having made the best bargain that he had done for many a day. He bought two Arab suits, and two such as were worn by peasants, and a brown burnoose for Sidi to put on at once. Then, going out with the provision-basket and the clothes in a bundle, he went to the gate again, chose a couple of donkeys from those standing there for hire, and went along the road for a short distance. Telling the donkey-boy to wait with the animals until his return, he took the basket and the burnoose, which had been made up into a separate parcel, and went to the spot where he had left Sidi, who rose to his feet as he reached him.

"I am better now, and can go on."

"You are not going on until you have made a meal anyhow," Edgar replied; "and I feel hungry myself, for I have been up a good many hours."

Sidi sat down again. The basket was opened, and Edgar produced some bread and some cold kabobs (kabobs being small pieces of meat stuck on a skewer). Sidi eat some bread and fresh fruit, but he shook his head at the meat.

"I shall do better without it," he said. "Meat is for the strong. My wound will heal all the faster without it."

He did, however, drink from a tumbler Edgar had brought with him a small quantity of wine mixed with the water.

"I regard you as my hakim, and take this as medicine because you order it."

"I feel sure that the Prophet himself would not have forbidden it when so used. You look better already, and there is a little colour in your cheek. Now, let us be off. If your father has recovered consciousness, he must be in great anxiety about you."

"But I want to ask you about yourself?"

"I will tell you when we are mounted. The sooner we are off the better."

He was glad to see that, as they walked towards the donkeys, Sidi stepped out much more firmly than before. He had put on his burnoose as soon as Edgar joined him, and this concealed him almost to his feet when he had mounted.

"We are not pressed for time," Edgar said to the donkey-boy. "Go along gently and quietly."

The donkey started at the easy trot that distinguishes his species in Egypt.

"Now, Edgar," Sidi said, as soon as they were in motion, "here have you been telling me about my father, and I have been telling you about myself, but not one word as yet have you told as to how you escaped, and so saved the lives of both of us. Allah has, assuredly, sent you to be our good genius, to aid us when we are in trouble, and to risk your life for ours."

"Well, never mind about that now, Sidi. I will tell you all about it; but it is a good long story."

So saying, he narrated his adventures in detail, from the time when his horse fell with him to the moment when he entered the room where the court-martial was being held. He made the story a long one, in order to prevent his friend from talking, for he saw when he had spoken how great was his emotion. He made his narrative last until they came within a quarter of a mile of the village near which the sheik was hidden.

"Now we will get off," he said, "and send the donkeys back."

He paid the amount for which he had bargained for the animals, and bestowed a tip upon the boy that made him open his eyes with delight. They turned off from the road at once, made a detour, and came down upon the clump of trees from the other side. The Arabs had seen them approaching, and welcomed Sidi with exuberant delight. To his first question, "How is my father?" they said, "He is better. He is very weak. He has spoken but once. He looked round, evidently wondering where he was, and we told him how the young Englishman, his friend, had come to us, and how we had searched for hours among the dead, and, at last finding him, had carried him off. Then he said, 'Did you find my son?' We told him no, and that we had searched so carefully that we felt sure that he was not among the dead, but that you had gone back to the town to try and learn something about him. He shook his head a little, and then closed his eyes. He has not spoken again."