The Sultan's Daughter

Roger shrugged. ' Permit me to remark that to confuse religion with politics can often lead to grave errors of judgment. Knowing as I do the men who now rule France, I can assure Your Ladyship that, since Talleyrand has gone, all the odds are that he will have been replaced by a man who will be less inclined to have a true appreciation of Britain's power and vital interests.' Knowing that it was pointless to defend Talleyrand further, or attempt to present Bonaparte as a human being, he asked, ^' What other news is there out of France? '

^' A law has been passed which will greatly increase the size of the French Armies,' Sir William replied. ^' It was proposed by General Jourdan that the whole manpower of France should be subject to conscription. All young men between the ages of twenty and twenty-five are now liable to military service. They are to be registered by their Departments and, in groups from the age of twenty, will be called up as required.'

^' That can mean no more,' Roger suggested, ^' than the levee-en-masse that Carnot instituted when France was hard pressed by the Monarchies during the early years of the Revolutionary Wars.'

^'1 think it does,' the Ambassador countered. ^' That was only an emergency measure, whereas this is a piece of permanent legislation. It is the first time that the youth of a nation has been required, upon reaching a certain age, to report automatically for military service. That is an entirely new conception of the duty a man owes to his country. It may well spread to other nations.'

^' What of the Directory? ' Roger asked. ^' Is the personnel the same? '

'There has been no change since last May. In the middle of that month Francois de Neufchateau drew the retiring ballot and was replaced by an ex-member of the Regicide Convention named Treilhard. At the same time the Directors again declared several Deputies newly elected to the Assembly, to be Royalist conspirators, and arbitrarily threw them out. But I expect you will have heard about that.'

Roger shook his head. ^' Word of Treilhard's appointment failed to reach us before we sailed from Toulon on May 19th; and since then little news has trickled through to Egypt. I take it that matters are no better with the unfortunate Swiss or the people of Piedmont.'

^' Alas, no. The brave Swiss are suffering an appalling martyrdom at the hands of those pitiless fiends. As for Italy, as I told you yesterday it is a seething cauldron of strife from Rome northwards. The larger cities are still held by the French, but the country outside them is in a state of complete lawlessness.

Men, women and even bands of precocious children fall upon solitary travellers and tear them limb from limb to get hold of their money and such provisions as they may have with them and, if they secure nothing better, they cook and eat their horses.'

For a further half-hour they talked on then Roger took his leave, having promised to attend the Monday reception at the Embassy. He accepted put of curiosity to see who among the Neapolitan aristocracy remained friendly to the British, or deemed it expedient to continue to court them. Now that he had grown a beard and could be introduced as Robert MacElfic, he regarded as neglible the risk of anyone he had met ten years ago in Naples identifying him as Roger Brook.

Next day, December 5th, Vanguard entered the bay, bringing Nelson back from a bloodless victory. When he had appeared with his Squadron off Leghorn and had threatened to bombard the port, the pro-revolutionary Municipal Council had promptly surrendered and, accompanied by its French 'advisers', fled. The five thousand Neapolitan troops had been landed with their cannon and baggage and would, it was hoped, enable the Grand Duke to clear the French out of Tuscany.

But the gallant little Admiral's reception was very different from that which had greeted him on September 22nd when he had arrived with his Fleet from the Battle of the Nile. Then King Ferdinand, clad in gala attire, had done him the unprecedented honour of sailing three leagues out into the bay to greet him. Neapolitan bands had learned to play ^' Rule, Britannia' and ' See the Conquering Hero Comes' for the occasion. Every ship for miles along the coast and the whole waterfront had been decked with flags and they were crammed with a hundred thousand cheering people. Emma, who naturally accompanied the royal party, had flung her arms round the Admiral's neck then collapsed weeping with happiness on the deck. The King and Queen had declared him to have been sent by God to save Italy, and their young son had said that every morning he would stand in front of a portrait of the hero and pray to grow up like him.

Now the Fleet was scattered. One Squadron under Troubridge was blockading the Roman coast, another under Bell was blockading Malta and the remainder under Hood were still blockading Egypt. There was no reception of any kind; no thunder of saluting cannon, no flags, no cheering thousands. The Admiral went ashore and, almost unnoticed, made his way up to the Palazzo Sessa.

There, as Roger learned later, he was met by most disturbing news. A rumour had come in that Mack's Army had suffered a severe defeat and that the General himself had been made a prisoner.

During the following two days the fact that things were going wrong became common knowledge in the city. Scores of Neapolitan gentry who, although knowing nothing of war, had gaily gone off in beautiful uniforms to fight now suddenly reappeared in civilian clothes making every sort of specious excuse for having left the Army. The accounts they gave of the campaign showed that it was being hopelessly mismanaged. Even during the victorious advance the organization had been so bad that for three days the majority of the troops had been without rations, and the King himself had lacked food for thirty-six hours.

To escape from this atmosphere of uncertainty and depression, Roger spent the Saturday revisiting Pompeii; but his excursion did little to cheer him. Memories of his previous visit provided too great a contrast. Then, with Isabella and a gay party, he had picnicked there and they had had Sir William—a great authority on Roman civilization—to give them a graphic description of the city as it must once have been, and of the terrible eruption that had overwhelmed it.

On Sunday he made another excursion, this time up to the crater of Vesuvius. He thought the huge bowl of lava, with its crisp crust of snow round the edge, tremendously impressive, but despite the wintry sunshine it was terribly cold up there; so he was glad to get down again to the shelter of trees and houses. It was only when he was among them that he realized he had hardly looked at the magnificent view over the bay, as his mind during the long trudge had been almost entirely occupied by gloomy speculations about what might happen if the Neapolitan Army had actually been defeated.

When Monday evening came he attended Sir William's weekly conversazione. Instead of the two hundred or more people usually to be seen at these gatherings, bowing, curtseying and chattering over wine and delicacies, the fine, pillared salon and the adjacent rooms were almost empty. There was barely a score of people present and nearly all were men with anxious faces;

but among them was Nelson, who when in Naples always made the Embassy his headquarters.

Emma received Roger most graciously and, after they had exchanged a few platitudes, asked for his arm to lead her to the buffet. On the way there she raised her fan and whispered to him behind it, ^' Our slayer of dragons wishes to speak with you. At the moment that tiresome Prince Pignatelli is monopolizing him, but we will break in upon them.' Then she changed direction slightly and bore down on the Admiral.

When she had curtseyed and the three men had exchanged bows she said, 'Permit me to present to you, dear gallant Sir Horatio, and to Your Highness, Mr. Robert MacElfic who is on a visit to Naples.'

There were more bows and the elderly Prince smiled at Roger. ' I fear, Mr. MacElfic, you have chosen a most unfortunate time to visit our beautiful city.' Then he added, with the unfailing hospitality of the Italians, * Nevertheless, if I can assist you to see something of it I shall be most happy to do so.'

As Roger thanked him, Nelson asked with his usual impetuosity, ^' Where are you from, Mr. MacElfic, and how long is it since you arrived here? '

'I have been in Naples a week, sir, and have come from Crete.'

' Ah, Crete! ' exclaimed the Admiral. ^' You are just the man I wish to see, then. Now the Turks have become our allies I am anxious to know how their preparations for war are going forward in that island.'

'Come, Prince.' Emma tactfully laid her hand on Pignatelli's arm. ^' Pray take me to the buffet and find me a glass of wine.'

As they moved away, Nelson said to Roger, ^' We'll be less likely to be interrupted in one of the smaller rooms.' Then he turned abruptly and, with Roger beside him, walked quickly through a doorway into a drawing room panelled in yellow satin.

Halting in front of the marble mantelpiece, he turned, his drawn features flashed into an enchanting smile and he said, ^' Now, Mr. Brook, my thanks and heartiest congratulations. You see how right I was to persuade you to return to Cairo? The despatches you secured for us are invaluable.'

Roger returned the smile. ^'1 am glad, sir, though my obtaining of them was largely due to luck.'

^' Luck, maybe; but courage and resource must also have been needed to get away with them. My old friend Chris must be proud to have such a son. Your long report, too, I read with the greatest interest, although I must admit that I was very disappointed by it.'

^' In what way, sir? '

^' Why, I had hoped that a good half of those atheist dogs in Cairo were by now dead of starvation, the Arab pox or the plague. Instead, you tell us they are erecting windmills to grind the corn, planting vineyards and even amusing themselves by opening cafes like those they have in Paris.'

^'1 would I had better news for you. But the French are determined to surmount the difficulties which have arisen from your having cut them off, and their Army shows no sign of disintegrating. It is, of course, General Bonaparte's genius for administration which accounts for their still-high morale.'

^'That emissary of the Devil! ' Nelson's bright eye flashed angrily. ^' But I forgot. At Aboukir you made it plain to me that you have a sneaking admiration for . . . for this man that I can think of only as the very personification of Evil.'

Roger had the temerity to smile. ^' It is said, sir, that one should give the Devil his due. If General Mack had a one-hundredth part of Bonaparte's organizing ability the Neapolitan Army would not be in its present alarming situation.'

The Admiral's smile suddenly returned. ^' Well said, Mr. Brook. You have certainly made your point there.' After a moment he added, with a shake of the head, ^' Everything seems to have gone awry and I am bitterly disappointed. Until my return here last Wednesday I had the greatest hopes for this new war against those devilish French.'

^' It is said, sir, that you encouraged the Neapolitans to enter on it, though I could scarce believe that.'

^' Why so? We had good reason to believe that the French were planning the conquest of King Ferdinand's territories, and I told His Majesty roundly that either he must attack while the French in middle Italy were still weak or stand to lose his throne.'

^' Since the French were unlikely to be reinforced for some time, would it not have been wiser to wait until Austria was fully committed to make war again on the Republic? '

The little Admiral drew himself up and said haughtily, ^' Do you presume, Mr. Brook, to question my judgment? '

^' Sir,' Roger replied, ^'1 have on occasion questioned the judgment of Mr. Pitt and, hate Bonaparte as you may, that of the greatest soldier of our age. I had, therefore, thought that I might speak my mind to the greatest sailor of our age. But if I have presumed I pray your pardon.'

Nelson, ever susceptible to flattery, instantly relaxed. 'I see now how you have achieved your extraordinary position. It takes more courage to criticize one's superiors to their faces than to stand up to shot and shell. You consider that I acted rashly. Well, perhaps I did. But a great part of the success with which God has blessed me has been due to my attacking the enemy without counting the odds. In this case the odds favoured Naples by four to one, and by swift action I felt they stood a good chance of throwing our enemies out of a large part of Italy. Remember, the French nation has become a hydra-headed monster and, if our Christian civilization is to be saved, we must seek at all times to destroy a part of that monster with every means that becomes available. That is my doctrine and no considerations will ever deter me from practising it.'

Roger bowed. ^' It is that, sir, which has earned you the love and admiration of our whole nation. But about the present. A hundred rumours are running round the city. Would you do me the favour of telling me to the best of your knowledge how matters really stand? '

^' Willingly,' came the prompt reply. ^' It is only right that men like yourself should know the truth and what we may expect. The rumour that General Mack has been taken prisoner is unfounded. But the French have driven back the right wing of his Army and captured all its artillery and baggage. Most of its officers have shamefully deserted and it has now become a rabble. At Castellana the French are holding a strong position with thirteen thousand troops, and Mack is said to be moving against them with twenty thousand. Should he prove successful, all is far from being lost. He might then still hold the fortified line of the frontier; but, frankly, I have grave doubts of his ability to defeat the French.

'Shortly after my arrival I was received by Her Gracious Majesty, Queen Caroline, whose splendid courage is our main support in our endeavours against the enemy. I found her heartbroken at the shocking performance of the Neapolitan Army. God knows, the officers had not much honour to lose, but they lost any they had. Her Majesty told me that the Divisions of Generals San Filippo and Micheroux had turned and run thirty miles at the mere sight of the French. San Filipino, instead of running, saved his skin by going over to the enemy. The Prince of Taranto displayed such cowardice that King Ferdinand tore his epaulettes from his shoulders with his own hands. I have always found that Italians are brave men individually but when regimented as soldiers they seem to go all to pieces. To be honest, I now fear the worst.'

^' Should what remains of General Mack's Army be driven in upon the city, do you think there is any hope of holding it? ' Roger enquired.

The Admiral shook his head. ^' The three great fortresses are considered impregnable, so they may hold out. But the city has no walls, so it cannot be defended. I shall, of course, evacuate all British nationals who are resident here and the Royal Family, should they decide to retire to Sicily. You may count upon my finding a place in Vanguard for you.'

Roger, having been once bitten by this small, vital man who lived only to scourge the French, was twice shy; so he replied, ^'1 thank you for the offer, sir. However, as the Jacobite MacElfic, I am regarded as more or less a neutral here, and I feel that I could possibly prove of more use by remaining on in the city.'

^' You may well be right in that,' the Admiral agreed, and shortly afterwards they returned to the big salon.

For a while Roger talked with several of the gloomy Neapolitan nobles there; then, as he took his leave, Sir William said, 'Next Thursday, the 13th, is my birthday. We have always celebrated it with a big party here. Invitations were sent out over a fortnight ago, but I trust you will not mind a belated one. Eight o'clock and silk stockings. I shall look forward to seeing you.'

Roger accepted, although he could not think that a party of any kind could prove a success in the present state of Naples, and he concluded that the Ambassador meant to give it only as a gesture to show that, in spite of General Mack's reverses, the British were still confident that the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies would emerge victorious from the war.

But the party never took place. On the morning of the 13th Roger received a note from Sir William to the effect that, the situation being so uncertain, he felt that this was no time for any celebration and was cancelling all invitations.

On the following day, the 1'th, the great blow fell. Like so many of his officers, King Ferdinand had fled from the enemy and arrived back in Naples. The whole Neapolitan Army was in full retreat. The French under General Championnet and headed by two future Marshals of the Empire, Macdonald and Ney, were advancing at full speed upon the capital.

16

No 'Happy New Year'

For four days King Ferdinand had lorded it in the magnificent Farnese Palace in Rome, thundering forth boasts about what he would do to the godless French when he came upon them. But at the first move by the French Commander, General Cham-pionnet, he was seized by panic. So fearful for himself was he that he insisted on changing clothes with one of his officers so as to make himself less conspicuous. Helped on to a horse, he rode it at full gallop until, under his weight, the animal had nearly collapsed. Then Ferdinand took to a coach and, clinging to the hand of one of his nobles, had himself driven as fast as possible to Naples.

His laments, and those of the Queen and the Hamiltons, about the conduct of the French were loud and long. Apparently, Championnet had left a letter for General Mack, stating that he was withdrawing his forces from Rome to save the civil population from the horrors of street fighting. The naive Neapolitans had taken this to mean that he had surrendered Rome to them. In fact, as an experienced soldier, Championnet had simply withdrawn a garrison too weak to hold the city until he could concentrate his widely scattered forces and reoccupy it. But nothing would persuade his deluded enemies that he had not acted with diabolical treachery.

In spite of Ferdinand's cowardly behaviour, his lazzaroni remained entirely loyal. A great multitude of them crammed the square in front of the royal palace yelling for him. When at length he appeared on a balcony with the Queen, they made him swear that he would not leave Naples, then shouted that, with

270

the aid of their patron saint, Geronimo, they would defend him to the death.

That afternoon Roger received a note from Sir William Hamilton asking him to come up to the Embassy. When, in the evening, he did so, he found a small army of workmen busily crating the most valuable items from the Ambassador's collection of antiques. He told Roger that their loyal and generous friend, the heaven-sent _# Admiral, had already had shipped to Gibraltar, simply as a precaution, the best pictures in the collection. But now the time had come when as many other treasures as possible must be got away, as an insurance against their falling into the hands of the unspeakable French.

When Roger enquired why he had been summoned, Sir William said:

'You are under no obligation to me, but I mean to ask a favour of you. In my files I have many hundreds of letters relating to my diplomatic activities. Some of them make mention of secrets that could be damaging to British prestige, if known to the enemy. I have so many urgent matters to attend to that I have not the time to go through them. No one could be better entrusted with this task than yourself. I beg you, therefore, to undertake it. My wish is that all documents of importance should be preserved for me to take with me should we be compelled to evacuate the Embassy, and that the others should be burnt.'

Far from thinking of refusing, Roger was only too glad to have some useful work to occupy him during the emergency, and early next morning he set about the formidable task of scanning and sorting Sir William's correspondence.

King Ferdinand's return had brought about a new situation in the city. He had cordially endorsed his loyal lazzarOni's determination to defend Naples and, the Army having failed so lamentably, the leaders of the lazzaroni took matters into their own hands. Large bodies of them picketed all the approaches to the city, seized the returning deserters and took their arms from them. But the King's resolution to rely on this vast rabble of petty thieves and professional beggars did not last for long.

Queen Caroline had a deep-seated distrust of mobs. In the fact that the Royal Family had been forced to show themselves on the balcony of the palace a few hours after the return of the King had leaked out, she saw a repetition of the scene at Versailles in '89 following which Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette had been forced by the mob to accompany it, virtually as prisoners, back to Paris. Fearing that she might suffer the same fate as her sister, Caroline had at once begun to urge upon Ferdinand that their only certainty of safety lay in flight to Sicily.

A few days of her nagging had been sufficient to weaken the King's resolution. Then, on the 18th as Roger learned from Sir William, a despatch was received from General Mack. He reported that what remained of his Army had disintegrated into a rabble and besought Their Majesties to escape from Naples before the French entered it. That settled the matter. For the next few days frantic preparations for the evacuation were made with as much secrecy as possible.

Already, from the 15th, Queen Caroline had been sending each night to the Palazzo Sessa boxes and bundles of every description for transfer to Nelson's flagship. Emma sat up till daybreak, receiving and repacking everything from a fortune in diamonds to nappies for the royal babies.

The flight was fixed for the night of Friday 21st. But recently the weather had broken, and on the Friday morning such a storm blew up that it was feared that it might be found impossible for the barges to convey the fugitives from the quay to Vanguard. During the day half a dozen contradictory messages reached the British Embassy from General Acton about possible postponement of the venture, but when evening came it was decided that the risk should be taken.

At half past eight Nelson landed at the Arsenal steps and proceeded to the palace by way of a long, subterranean tunnel. He then escorted the royal party and their principal courtiers back along the tunnel and transported them safely, but in sheeting rain, to his flagship. Roger, still in charge of the important documents he had saved from the Embassy files, went off in another boat an hour later. He had an awful tossing and was at length hauled aboard Vanguard soaked to the skin.

He found the decks piled with royal possessions that there had not as yet been time to stow away—pictures, furniture, statuary and innumerable bales and boxes. It looked as though Sir William's estimate, that they had succeeded in carrying off between two and three million pounds' worth of goods, might not be too high.

The great stern cabin was crowded with people. Queen Caroline was weeping in Emma's large, protecting arms; Nelson, behaving no longer like an Admiral but like a schoolboy besotted with calf-love, was exclaiming to everyone how courageous and angelic Emma was. The royal children were also in tears. General Acton, the Court Chamberlain Prince Belmonte, Prince Castel-cicala and the Austrian Count Thurn stood grouped in a corner, looking as glum as though they were about to be sent to the guillotine. A score of other notabilities, male and female, were seated on the deck, claspipg their most precious belongings which, at short notice, were all they had been able to bring with them. Some of them were already being seasick from the rolling of the vessel.

Pushing through the crush, Roger found Sir William and gave him the weighty leather satchel crammed with papers. Having thanked him the Ambassador said, ^' Why not come with us? X pray you, do. With the King gone, anything may happen. It is certain that there will be riots and you might well be killed in one, or during the fighting when the French force their way into the city.'

Roger shook his head. ^' No. It is good of Your Excellency to suggest it; but things can hardly become worse than they were in Paris during the Revolution, so I expect to be able to take care of myself. And when the fighting is over I still hope to make my way home overland.'

Very distressed at the sight of so much misery, Roger went out on deck, in spite of the rain, and huddled against a bulwark until he could get a boat to take him ashore. The inward trip was even worse than the outward one and the boat tossed as though a bucking stallion were beneath her. Before reaching the wharf Roger was violently sick, which strengthened his conviction that he had been wise to refuse Sir William's invitation to accompany the royal party to Sicily.

The next two days gave him still greater cause to be glad that he was safe on land. On the 22nd a gale of such ferocity raged that Nelson's ships could not set sail and, buffeted by huge waves, rolled back and forth as though they were barrels. On the morning of the 23rd they did set sail; but the wind and seas were still so high that the ships could not round the island of Capri, the topsails of Vanguard were blown out and, when night came down, the Squadron was still helplessly beating about the bay.

Later it was learned that the sufferings of the passengers had been appalling. The majority of the Italians remained night and day on their knees, alternately vomiting and offering up last prayers. Count Esterhazy, in the hope of appeasing the sea, threw into it a diamond-encrusted snuff-box with a portrait of his mistress on the lid. Sir William sat on his cot holding a loaded pistol, having determined to shoot himself at the last moment rather than drown. Alone among the women Emma, to her eternal honour, refused to succumb. All the royal servants were incapacitated; so she looked after the whole family, gave away her own bedding and could not be persuaded even to lie down until Vanguard, with considerable difficulty, got into the harbour of Palermo on the 26th. But even her devoted care could not prevent Prince Alberto, Queen Caroline's six-year-old son, from dying in her arms on the second day of that terrible voyage.

Meanwhile panic, confusion and mutiny reigned in the bay. On the morning of the 22nd, as soon as it became known that the Royal Family had abandoned Naples, hundreds of other families made up their minds to flee from the French. Sir William had sent word to the British residents, the majority of whom had been accommodated during the previous night in three transports. Nelson had made arrangements for two Greek polacres to take off the French Royalist exiles; but from first light onward, in spite of the raging storm, a large part of the Neapolitan nobility put out in a swarm of boats and begged to be taken on to the heaving ships.

There was trouble, too, in the Neapolitan Navy. The Commander, Commodore Caracciolo, naturally felt aggrieved that his King should have taken refuge in a British ship rather than in one of his own. To add insult to injury, a part of the royal treasure that had been sent aboard his flagship was later removed to the * greater safety' of Vanguard. But Queen Caroline did not trust the Neapolitans, and neither did Nelson.

They had some reason for that. As soon as Caracciolo's sailors learned that the Fleet was to put to sea, the majority of them refused to abandon their families and went ashore. Caracciolo reported that he had sufficient men to handle his flagship, and accompanied the exodus to Palermo—although only to be hanged from the yardarm by Nelson six months later on somewhat dubious evidence that he had turned traitor. But what was to be done about the other ships of the Neapolitan Navy that could not weigh anchor?

Nelson was in favour of sinking them there and then; but the King, the Queen and Acton, having almost bankrupted their country to build their Fleet, implored him to spare it. He was prevailed upon to do so, but left behind Commodore Campbell, who was in command of three Portuguese frigates, with strict instructions that in no circumstances was any part of the Neapolitan Navy to be allowed to fall into the hands of the French.

Ashore there was general turmoil. Before sneaking out of his palace, Ferdinand had "sent for General Prince Pignatelli. When the General arrived he found no King but a document, left carelessly on a table, appointing him Regent of Naples. Unfortunately he was both a weak and a stupid man, and hopelessly incapable of handling the situation. He took no steps whatever to place the city in a state of defence and when the Eletti, as the Municipal Council composed of nobles was called, urged him to form a National Guard for the maintenance of order he told them that such matters were nothing to do with them.

Had Pignatelli been a brave and able man it is quite possible that Naples might have been saved from the French, for their advance was being checked in a most unexpected manner. Now that the Neapolitan Army had been disembarrassed of its cowardly officers, the many thousands of soldiers who still remained in the field suddenly began to fight. The war they waged was entirely un-coordinated but, often led by fanatical village priests, they fell upon the French with extraordinary ferocity wherever they could find them. The French were very inferior in numbers and were forced to concentrate in solid bodies and, instead of advancing further, defend themselves in villages.

But no advantage was taken of this unlooked-for respite. On the contrary, matters in Naples went from bad to worse. Pignatelli, presumably on the King's instructions, endeavoured to set fire to the Arsenal. He was prevented by the Eletti, but they failed to stop him on December 28th from burning the hundred gunboats that were anchored off Posilipo and having the great store of powder and shot kept at Mergellina thrown into the sea. Ten days later Commodore Campbell, by then convinced that the Regent meant to hand over Naples to the enemy without striking a blow, turned the guns of his Portuguese frigates on the helpless Neapolitan vessels and sank all the bigger ships of the Fleet.

In defiance of Pignatelli, the Eletti decreed the calling up of fourteen thousand citizens; but the move proved abortive, as the Regent refused to release more than two hundred muskets from the castles. He declared his policy to be to do nothing to increase the enmity of the French but to levy a huge tax and use the money to bribe them to concede an armistice.

He appeared to be successful in this. On January 11th General Championnet agreed to spare Naples for two months on condition that various strong places and a great area of territory were ceded, that the ports of the Two Sicilies were declared neutral and that, within the current month, Naples paid an indemnity of ten million francs, half of which was to be forthcoming within the next three days.

During this fortnight of confusion and anxiety Roger played no part in events. Having sent off his despatches, he was free of all responsibility and he had no urgent reason for endeavouring to get home. With such patience as he could muster he continued to hope that in another month or so the peninsula would have been sufficiently pacified for him to risk setting out for France. In the meantime he kept himself occupied by riding every morning, practising in a fencing school near his hotel for an hour or so every afternoon and picking up the rumours of the day in cafes in the evening.

But the news of the armistice seemed to give him the sort of chance for which he had been waiting. Before that it would have been suicidal for him to attempt to join the French. To increase the strength of his Army, King Ferdinand had released all the criminals from the Sicilian jails and had formed no fewer than sixteen battalions with them. With thousands of such desperadoes roving the countryside, no solitary traveller could possibly have hoped to get through to Rome. But now the French would be sending emissaries to Naples, and Roger planned to get in touch with them. If, on some excuse or other, he could have himself sent to General Championnet, the rest should prove easy. After Bonaparte's letters had been copied he had retrieved them from Sir William. He would only have to show them and declare himself as Colonel Breuc to be provided with an escort that would see him safely back to France.

On the 12th, in accordance with the armistice terms, the Neapolitans handed over Capua. General Mack, now scared that his own soldiers would kill him, sought the protection of the French.

When he was about to surrender his sword Championnet said contemptuously, ^' Pray keep it. My Government does not allow me to accept presents of English manufacture.' Then he told the old man to go home.

On the evening of the 1'th the French Commissioners arrived to collect the first half of the indemnity. It had been got together only with great difficulty as Ferdinand had emptied the national treasury before his departure, carrying off twenty million ducats. But the French never * got their money. A seething mob of lazzaroni refused to allow it to be handed over and attacked the five carriages in which the Commissioners had arrived. They were rescued only with difficulty by the National Guard, kept in protective custody for the night and departed the following morning vowing vengeance for the insults to which they had been subjected.

Roger found it impossible to get anywhere near them and, as the action of the lazzaroni had put an end to the armistice, he was left in the same frustrating situation as before.

Within the next twenty-four hours it became clear that the lazzaroni were now the real masters of the city. For the past three weeks they had, in one way or another, been acquiring arms and, just in time, a great quantity of weapons became theirs for the taking. The five thousand troops whom Nelson had conveyed to Leghorn returned with their tails between their legs. The Grand Duke had, after all, proved too frightened to launch an attack from Tuscany on the French and had packed the Neapolitans back into their transports. On their arrival at Naples, hordes of lazzaroni swarmed aboard the vessels and seized every weapon in them.

Elated by their success, they proceeded to attack the Castel Nuovo. Pignatelli sent orders to the Commander to defend the castle but not to fire upon the mob. As it was an impossibility to do one without the other, the unhappy officer allowed the lazzaroni to take possession. By similar means they secured the great fortress of Castel Sant'Elmo, up on the heights, and the other great Castel dell'Uovo, down on the harbour.

They then began a witch-hunt for ^' Jacobins', as Neapolitans with revolutionary leanings were termed. Anyone believed to have French sympathies was dragged into the street and murdered, then his house was pillaged. This led many hundreds of the lesser nobility and bourgeoisie with Liberal leanings to decide that the only hope of saving their lives lay in siding with the French and, if possible, helping them to capture the city. A number of them banded themselves together and, by a trick, succeeded in gaining possession of the Castel Sant'Elmo, where they shut themselves up.

Meanwhile the lazzaroni had broken open all the prisons. The intellectuals who had been locked up in them, on Queen Caroline's orders, as Jacobins were butchered, but the criminals were let loose to join in the orgy of murder and destruction that was now taking place.

On the night of the 17th Pignatelli fled to Palermo. By that time the mobs were no longer bothering themselves about the politics of the wealthier citizens, but were breaking into and looting every house in which they thought they would acquire plunder easily. A hundred thousand male and female cut-throats were storming through the great, wealthy city and its state of anarchy had become worse than that in Paris during the most terrible days of the Revolution.

Roger, now considerably alarmed for his own safety, remained in his hotel; but even that did not save him from a most unpleasant experience. On the night following Pignatelli's flight the hotel was attacked by a mob howling for blood. He had only just time to jump out of bed, snatch up his weapons and money-belt, pull on his travelling coat and get out of his bedroom window on to the roof of a verandah at the back of the building.

Climbing down to the ground, he made off through a side door in the courtyard and along several alleys until he could no longer hear the shouts and screams coming from the hotel. It was bitterly cold and he spent the rest of the night huddled, shivering, in a doorway, praying that Hell might open and swallow Ferdinand and Caroline for the horror they had brought upon their capital.

By dawn he had decided that Naples had become too hot to hold him. Tempests or no tempests, he must get out of this inferno before he was murdered; so he must go home by sea. As soon as there was light enough, he set out along the waterfront and trudged the five miles or more south along the bay to the little fishing port of Portici. There he talked cautiously with some fishermen and, selecting one of whom he liked the look, drew him aside. After ten minutes' haggling he persuaded the man, for a considerable sum in gold, to find him some warm clothes, then run him down the coast and across the straits to Messina.

Soon after midday, warmed by a good meal of fish soup and rough wine, and wearing coarse woollens under his travelling coat, he went aboard the fishing smack. The crew consisted of the owner and his two stalwart sons. Roger had little fear that, having such odds in their favour, they might set upon and rob him, since they se.emed very decent folk and, moreover, he was armed with two pistols as well as his sword.

The weather continued to be cold with occasional squalls of rain, but, for the most part, it was sunny and, after the nightmare happenings in Naples, he found it a great relief to sit day after day in the stern of the boat, free from all anxiety. After rounding Capri they kept within a mile or so of the coast, now and then putting in to fishing villages to replenish their stores. Tacking slowly south, the three-hundred-mile voyage took sixteen days and Roger had become so used to doing nothing, except steer the boat occasionally or help with the sails, that he was almost sorry when on February 'th they landed in Sicily.

In Messina he spent three nights in a bug-ridden hotel, but there was no better accommodation to be had. After purchasing the best suit of clothes he could find, he set about making preparations for his journey to Palermo. The Sicilian capital was a hundred and fifty miles distant, and the only way to reach it was by a road following the northern coast of the great island. Long stretches of this road were little better than cart-tracks, the so-called inns along it were no more than hovels, and it was said to be infested with brigands. On hearing this, Roger decided that the only way to make the journey with a minimum of discomfort and a reasonable degree of safety would be to hire a travelling coach, in which he could sleep at night, and engage armed outriders for his protection.

The standard of living in the island was so low that men could be hired for any purpose for quite a small sum, but the total cost of such an expedition was considerable and his store of gold was now running low; so he sold a few of his small diamonds to a Spanish Jew who happened to be staying at the inn.

On the morning of the 7th, escorted by four villainous-looking mounted men armed to the teeth, he set out. Stoically he endured the jolting, while deriving such consolation as he could from the beauty of the scenery. To his right there was an endless succession of bays enclosed by wooded promontories and to his left, for the first three days, the magnificent cone of Etna continued to dominate the north-east of the island. On the afternoon of the 13 th he reached Palermo.

The walls of the ancient city were most impressive but he found the city within them composed almost entirely of slums, many of which dated back to the occupation of the city by Saracens and Normans. The British Embassy, he learned, had been established in the Villa Bastioni, and he went there as soon as he had paid off his escort. He found it to be a handsome mansion overlooking the Marine Promenade and adjacent to the beautiful Flora Reale gardens, but it soon transpired that the occupants were far from happy in their new home.

Sir William and Emma received him most kindly, but had a sad story to tell. In addition to bemoaning the loss of their fine Neapolitan properties and a great part of their possessions, they had found Palermo most disappointing. The Royal Family had never previously stayed there, except in summer, and then only at long intervals. In consequence, none of the palaces had fireplaces and most of them had fallen into disrepair. As the weather had been very inclement the refugees had suffered severely from the cold and Sir William had spent several weeks in bed with a fever. The King and Queen had installed themselves in the only habitable rooms in the Colli Palace and the Queen, still terrified of assassination, constantly moaned about it being two miles from the harbour, which would make it difficult to escape if the mob took it into its head to follow the example of that of Naples.

As it had taken Roger nearly four weeks to reach Palermo, the Hamiltons had much more recent news of Naples than he had, gleaned from refugees who had continued to arrive by sea. The disciplined French columns had forced their way through the rabble remnants of the Neapolitan Army and launched their attack on the capital on January 23rd, upon which the Liberal nobility in the Castel Sant'Elmo ran up the hated tricolour flag. The lazzaroni resisted the French with extraordinary ferocity. Thousands of them were killed as they defended every street and every house, but again French discipline triumphed. After several days of desperate fighting they crushed all opposition, and on February 'th General Championnet proclaimed the Kingdom of Naples as the Parthenopean Republic.

The news from northern Italy was no better. The French, infuriated by the Grand Duke of Tuscany's half-hearted attempt to move against them, had taken over in Florence; so the Duke, too, had to seek safety in exile. The Genoese of the Ligurian Republic had penetrated to Turin and had roused the Republicans there against their King, Charles Emmanuel IV. On December 9th he was forced to abdicate the throne of Piedmont and took refuge in his other kingdom, the island of Sardinia. This last event, although apparently a minor one among the upheavals that the French had caused over such a great area of Europe, was, a year later, to have consequences that altered the fate of a dozen nations.

On the credit side the beginnings of a Second Coalition against the French had at last matured. In the New Year of '99 Britain had signed an alliance with Russia and Turkey and it really looked now as if Austria meant to join them. Nelson's victory of the Nile had already established British supremacy in the Mediterranean and the capture of Minorca towards the end of the preceding year had provided the Admiral with another base. The addition of Russian and Turkish, as well as Portuguese, Squadrons now enabled the Allies to enforce a strict blockade on all enemy ports.

When Roger enquired after the gallant Admiral, Sir William pulled a long face and said, 'Since making Palermo his headquarters, our beloved hero has been much under the weather. Soon after our arrival here it was my most unhappy duty to hand him a despatch from an officer named Sir Sidney Smith, The despatch stated that Their Lordships of the Admiralty had charged Sir Sidney both to take over all negotiations with the Turks and to conduct all future operations in the eastern Mediterranean.'

' The name rings a bell,' Roger remarked. ^' Surely he must be the man whom Talleyrand mentioned to me when I was last in Paris as being a prisoner in the Temple.'

^' You are right; but he succeeded in escaping, with the aid of a French Royalist: one Colonel Phelippeaux. He subscribed his letter in most pretentious terms, as Knight of the Royal Swedish Order of the Sword, Minister Plenipotentiary to the Grand Turk and Chief of Operations by Land and Sea in the Levant. It is, of course, true that his younger brother is our Minister at the Porte, which should greatly assist his negotiations there, but-'

^' But the insult! ' Emma broke in passionately. ^' To deprive of one of his Squadrons the greatest sailor England has ever had and allow this popinjay to reap the glory of finishing off Bonaparte. The humiliation of it is beyond bearing. One can only suppose that their Lordships are gone mad.'

Roger would have given pride of place to no man in his admiration for the little Admiral's grasp of all naval matters, initiative and great personal courage, and he was shocked by this most ungenerous treatment of him. All the same, he thought that there was a possible reason for it. Although, as far as Nelson was able, he had for the past five months continued to control his distant Squadrons operating against Egypt, Malta and the Balearics and in the Gulf of Genoa, he had devoted his own energies entirely to the affairs of Naples. He had even promised that in no circumstances would he abandon Their Sicilian Majesties. The reason for that was not far to seek and was so generally known that tidings of it would long since have reached London. In Whitehall it might well be thought that, instead of remaining inactive in Palermo, he ought by now to be back in the Levant, doing his utmost to hamper the advance up the Syrian coast which it was known Bonaparte intended to undertake in the New Year. Therefore a more singleminded man had been sent to do it for him.

Naturally, Roger made no mention of his plausible speculations and Sir William was going on,^' You will appreciate how aggrieved was so sensitive a soul as Sir Horatio by this belittling of him. He wrote at once both to Earl Spencer at the Admiralty and to St. Vincent, as his Commander-in-Chief, stating that he could not support having Captain Hood's Squadron taken from him by an officer junior to himself, and asking to be relieved of his Command.'

^' I pray God they are not such fools as to allow him to give it up,' Roger said with all sincerity. Then he asked if Sir William would secure him an interview with the Admiral.

^' He is residing here as our treasured guest,' said Emma, ^' and we should be happy to have you, too, with us if you will forgive our putting you in a small room at the top of the house.'

Sir William added, with a sad little smile, ^' It's that, or the company of bedbugs and rats. Palermo is now choc-a-bloc with refugees of a dozen different nationalities. The only passable hotel is full to overflowing and every moderately sanitary building is packed to the roof-tops.'

Roger's reason for not accepting the Hamiltons's hospitality in Naples did not pertain in Palermo, so he gratefully accepted and was shown up to an attic room. At supper that night there were some twenty people, the majority of whom were now penniless and living on Sir William's generosity although he had lost a great part of his fortune. A number of them seized upon Roger, as a newcomer, to pour out the tale of their misfortunes; but later in the evening the Ambassador took him to a room that had been set aside as an office for Nelson.

The Admiral, pale and ill-looking, was doggedly working in his left-handed scrawl through a pile of correspondence, as he now had half a dozen allies with whom to deal in addition to the scattered ships of his Fleet, and was preparing to defend Messina from attack by the French. After greeting Roger courteously but abruptly, he asked in what way he could be of service to him.

Determined to give the little fire-eater no grounds for inveigling him into further work as a secret agent in the Mediterranean, Roger cannily refrained from asking directly for a passage home. Instead he said that, having got as far as Naples, he had intended to return overland to France but, as that had proved impossible, his only alternative was to go home by sea. Then he could slip across the Channel to deliver Bonaparte's despatches and resume his secret activities in Paris.

The Admiral wasted no words, but said glumly, ^'1 myself may shortly be sailing for England. In that case I will take you with me. In any case I will arrange matters for you. Pray excuse me now.'

Roger had not long to wait. Two days later a corvette arrived from Gibraltar. She carried a despatch for Nelson and a few hours later Sir William joyfully passed on its contents to Roger. Owing to a misunderstanding the 'Great Plenip' as they had derisively nicknamed Sir Sidney Smith, had taken more upon himself than had been intended. Nelson was still Commander-in-Chief for the whole of the Mediterranean. Hood's Squadron would continue to act under his orders, as also would the pretentious Commodore. The Admiral was writing a despatch for the corvette to carry and, having watered, the ship was to proceed again to sea the following evening. Roger was to sail in her.

On the afternoon of the 16th Roger said good-bye to the kindly Hamiltons, then went aboard the corvette Firefly, whose Captain was a Lieutenant Shotter. The Lieutenant, a big, middle-aged, cheerful man, welcomed Roger aboard and showed him to a small cabin. Having stowed away his few belongings, Roger went on deck and, as the early dusk of the February evening fell watched Palermo fade away in the distance.

That night as he settled down in his narrow cot he sighed with satisfaction. After twelve months away from England he was at last on his way home. It might be another two months or more before he got there and, at this time of year, it was certain that there would be periods of bad weather during which he would suffer from seasickness. But that was a small price to pay to escape for good from the perils he had had to face for so long. Once home, he was now determined never to go abroad again until peace was restored.

When he went on deck next morning he found that, during the night, favourable winds had enabled the corvette to cover the sixty miles along the coast to the north-west tip of Sicily and that she was now off the little port of Tripani. By noon she had rounded the islands lying off the peninsula and was heading south. After a pleasant meal with the cheerful Lieutenant Shotter, Roger went below again for an afternoon nap.

Roused by the striking of eight bells, he went up and joined the Lieutenant on the poop. The weather was cold but fine and, after a few minutes, he noticed that the declining sun was almost directly astern. Turning to Shotter, he said:

^' Am I crazy, Lieutenant, or are your methods of navigation most unusual? The sun is behind us, so we must be sailing east; whereas for Gibraltar we should be proceeding west.'

The Lieutenant gave him a slightly pitying smile. 'I'm sorry to have to disillusion you, Mr. MacElfic, but we are not going to Gibraltar. My instructions are to take Firefly to Egypt.'

Shanghaied for Further Service

Roger's blue eyes grew dark with anger. Suddenly he found his voice and demanded, 'What the hell is the meaning of this? '

' I can hardly make my meaning plainer, sir,' replied the Lieutenant. 'Firefly is bound for Egypt.'

' There has been a mistake,' Roger rapped out. ' An absurd misunderstanding. Admiral Nelson promised me a passage home. I must request you to put about at once and land me at the nearest Sicilian port.'

' I'm sorry, sir, but that is out of the question.' Shotter remained quite unruffled in the face of Roger's angry stare. ' The misunderstanding must be on your part. Sir Horatio gave me my orders personally and they were to take you to Egypt.'

' Were they, by God! Then he's tricked me and-'

'I don't like to hear you say that, sir,' the Lieutenant interjected swiftly.

'I don't give a damn what you like,' Roger roared. 'The Admiral has no right whatever to dictate my movements. I am not his servant, but Mr. .. . Well, no matter. But I have friends powerful enough to have you dismissed the Service. Do you refuse to put about and land me it will be the worse for you.'

' Mr. MacElfic, I'm sure you don't mean that, because you know that I must obey the orders I've been given. If you thought you were on your way home I sympathize with you; but you're not, and it will make things much more pleasant for both of us if you act sensibly.' As he spoke, Shotter drew a letter from his

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pocket and added, ' Sir Horatio said that, when you learned our destination, you might be somewhat upset and he told me to give you this. No doubt it will explain matters.'

Seething with rage, Roger took the letter, broke the seal and read:

Mr. Brook,

I trust you will not think too badly of me for the small deception 1 have practised upon you. Sir William Hamilton will have informed you that I am still responsible for the conduct of operations in the Levant. Owing to the extraordinary position you have created for yourself as the confidant of Bonaparte, I am convinced that you can be of far greater service to your King and Country by returning to him than by going to Paris. In any case, 1 cannot find it in me to deprive my Command of such a valuable source of intelligence as you have in your power to provide. I am, therefore, sending you to my subordinate, Captain Sir Sidney Smith, with instructions to him to make use of you as he sees fit.

I am, etc.

Nelson

After what Shotter had said the contents of the letter were more or less what Roger had expected; but that did not lessen his rage. When he had read it through the Lieutenant said:

'Now, sir, may I suggest your showing that you bear me no personal ill feeling on account of your situation by coming below and joining me in a glass of wine.'

Roger shook his head. ' I appreciate your offer, Lieutenant, but for the moment I am in too churlish a state to do justice to any man's hospitality. However, in an hour or so, if you will permit me? '

For a good hour he remained in his cabin in a positively murderous mood at the thought of the way in which he had been trapped. But his anger gradually subsided and at last he could even appreciate the grim humour of the turn events had taken. He had thought of himself so clever in lying to the little Admiral about wishing to get back to Paris, but it was Nelson who had had the last laugh. All the same, Roger was not prepared to submit tamely and he felt that an occasion was almost certain to arise when he could leave Firefly long before she arrived off the coast of Egypt.

He was soon disillusioned in that hope. When he joined Lieutenant Shotter in his cabin the Lieutenant filled two glasses from a decanter of Canary Sack then said, 'There is just one point, Mr. MacElfic, which I think we should settle right away. We can then leave this unhappy subject for good and, I hope, prove pleasant company for one another on the voyage. However favoured we are with the weather, we shall have to look in at Crete to pick up fresh victuals and water and, should we be blown badly off our course, perhaps at other places. I trust you will not attempt to jump ship.'

^' Do you mean that I am your prisoner? * Roger asked, his ire again beginning to rise.

^'1 should prefer not to put it like that,' the cheerful Shotter replied. ^' It is simply that I am under orders to deliver you to Sir Sidney Smith. My Admiral was most positive about that. Therefore I must ask you to give me your parole or, if you will not, I shall have to take the precaution of putting you under guard whenever we are within swimming distance of the shore.'

For a moment Roger considered. Had he been in an enemy ship he would have refused to give his parole, and backed himself to escape. But to do so from a British ship while under guard would be almost impossible without seriously injuring one or more of the British sailors; and that he was not prepared to do.

With a nod he said, ^' Very well, then. I'll make no attempt to escape until you have carried out your orders with regard to me.'

They then shook hands on it and drank ^' good luck' to the voyage in their first glass of wine.

The voyage of Firefly proved uneventful, except that she was twice blown back and forced to shelter for a few days under the lee of Crete. Having escaped being caught in the open she evaded the worst of the storm and Roger, although distinctly queasy, managed to survive the week of bad weather without being seasick. Just under three weeks after leaving Palermo they sighted Alexandria.

They received the latest intelligence from a blockading frigate. Bonaparte had adhered to his plan and, early in February, had launched his invasion of Syria. On the 20th, after a twelve-day siege, the powerful fortress of El Arish had surrendered to him. The French had then proceeded up the coast and were now laying siege to Jaffa. Having learned this, the new Commander in the Levant had left Alexandria to succour the besieged city. Shotter prompty rehoisted sail and set off after him.

Three days later Firefly was off Jaffa. There was no sign of Sir Sidney Smith and tricolour flags were flying over the city; so it had evidently been captured. They hailed an Arab dhow that was lying half a mile out from the harbour and, as Roger was able to act as interpreter, secured an account of what had taken place.

The French had appeared before the great walled city on March 3rd. The garrison, which was said to have numbered over four thousand men, had made several determined sorties, but had been driven back. After two days of severe fighting the French artillery made a big breach in the walls. Bonaparte, presumably to save his Army from the casualties inseparable from an assault, sent a messenger under a flag of truce to offer terms. But the ferocious Djezzar Pasha, who, from Acre, ruled all Syria, had ordered the messenger's head to be cut off and sent back to Bonaparte. The French then carried the city by storm. Djezzar succeeded in getting away but the greater part of the garrison surrendered.

It was then discovered that some two thousand of them were from the garrison of El Arish. Apparently, not wishing to be burdened with so many prisoners, Bonaparte had, after taking the great fortress, freed them on condition that they would take no further part for a year in the war between France and Turkey. However, they had promptly broken their word and marched off ahead of him to strengthen the garrison at Jaffa. On March 9th, two days after the fall of Jaffa, Napoleon had had thp whole two thousand taken out to the sand-dunes and shot.

When Shotter heard this his language about the French became unprintable. Roger, too, was profoundly shocked and felt that such an appalling massacre must always remain a stain on Bonaparte's name.

Proceeding up the coast on the following day, March 12th, Firefly came up with Sir Sidney Smith's Squadron. It consisted of two frigates: Tigre—in which Sir Sidney, having promoted himself, was flying the broad pennant of a Commodore— Theseus, and a number of smaller vessels. A boat was lowered and Shotter went aboard Tigre. Three-quarters of an hour later he returned and called up to Roger to come down and join him in the boat, which then made a second trip to Tigre and they both went aboard.

Sir Sidney received them in his stern cabin. He was a fine-look-ing man of thirty-four, very richly dressed and wearing the sash and diamond-encrusted Grand Cross of his Swedish Order. When the introduction had been made he said to Shotter, ^'1 thank you, Lieutenant. You may leave us.*

During the three and a half weeks of Firefly's voyage, her Captain and Roger had become firm friends; so as Shotter was about to leave the cabin, Roger wrung him firmly by the hand, thanked him for his many courtesies and said he hoped they would meet again. Shotter warmly reciprocated the hope and closed the cabin door behind him.

Sir Sidney then tapped a letter that was lying on his table and said, ^' Mr. MacElfic, do you know the contents of this? '

^' No,' Roger replied coldly, ^' but I can make a good guess. It is from Admiral Nelson and in it, without any warrant to do so, he places me at your disposal as a secret agent.'

^' It does much more than that. Sir Horatio informs me that for several years you have been in the service of the Prime Minister, and may be entrusted with both military and diplomatic secrets of the highest order. It also states that you performed the extraordinary feat of getting yourself appointed one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp. You must be a very exceptional man, Mr. MacElfic, and I am honoured to have your company on this station.'

Considerably mollified by this welcome, Roger replied,^'1 thank you, sir. I am much relieved to feel that, from what Admiral Nelson has said of me, you are not likely to request me to risk my neck counting the guns in a fort for you, or finding out if some local Sheik can be bought for a small sum of money. For my part, since I have been sent here against my will, I am at least consoled that it should be to an officer so distinguished for his brains, initiative and daring.'

Sir Sidney smiled. ^' That was generously said. But Sir Horatio says nothing of your having been reluctant to join me. Perhaps you would clarify the point.'

^' Put briefly, Admiral Nelson decided that my connection with General Bonaparte could be used to inflict greater damage on the French than would allowing me to return to Paris. So having promised me a passage to Gibraltar he virtually shanghaied me and put me on a ship bound for Egypt.'

^' Then I can sympathize with your resentment. But the little man will stick at nothing that he feels may help discomfit our enemies, and I am the gainer. When, pray, were you last in Paris? '

^' In early May. I sailed with Bonaparte to Egypt. But in March we might well have met.' Roger gave a sudden laugh. 'There was an occasion when I was threatened with being sent to join you in the Temple.'

'Indeed! Well, you may thank your stars that you did not. I spent two years in that damnable prison, and during them I nearly died of frustration.'

^' That I can well believe, sir, knowing your zest for action. I, too, know that gloomy prison, though not as a prisoner. I penetrated it several times during an abortive attempt to rescue poor Queen Marie Antoinette.'

^' Did you now! Perhaps, then, you knew a most devoted servant of the Queen and dear friend of mine—a Swedish nobleman, Count Axel Fersan? '

^'1 knew him well,' Roger smiled. ^' And that brings us to Sweden. We might well have met there for I, too, served King Gustavus in his war against Russia; and, for a special service I was fortunate enough to render him, he did me the honour to confer on me the Order that you wear. But, alas, I had to bury my Star beneath the foul straw of a cell in the fortress of Schliissel-burg, for had it been found upon me it would have cost me my life.'

Holding out his hand, the Commodore shook Roger's and said enthusiastically, ^' Mr. MacElfic, I can see that we are birds of a feather, and shall delight in one another's company. You must dine with me and we shall find a thousand things to talk about.'

Roger was shown to a cabin, where he found that his few things had been brought over from Firefly. For an hour or so he lay down in his cot and considered his situation. Pleased as he was with his reception, he was still extremely loath to rejoin Bonaparte and again face deserts, thirst, a plague of flies and the many hazards inseparable from a campaign in Syria. Yet, short of flatly refusing to serve Sir Sidney, he saw no alternative. He could only hope that he might be able to strike some sort of bargain, then pray that his luck would hold.

When they met again for dinner, at which only the two of them were present, Sir Sidney opened the conversation by remarking, * I fear we can scarcely look on this as a celebration, because in the despatch referring to yourself I also received notice of my demotion. But perhaps you were told about that before you left Palermo? '

^' Sir William Hamilton did tell me that there had been some misunderstanding,' Roger replied tactfully.

^' Let us call it that. The fact is that our little Admiral, although rightly weighed down with all the laurels he can carry, is still jealous of anyone else gaining a single leaf from that honour-bestowing shrub. With him three weeks' sailing distance away in Palermo, dancing attendance on a buffoon King and a terror-crazed Queen, it is only sensible that the Levant should be an independent Command. But since the Nile, he has become raised to such heights by the adulation of the people that his superiors no longer dare cross him. In consequence, our strategy must suffer.

^' He has ordered me to strike my broad pennant and revert from the rank of Commodore to that of Captain. That I shall not do, because it would be bad for discipline for my Squadron to see their Commander receive such a slap in the face.

'However, another matter perturbs me far more. The seat of war in the Levant is no longer Egypt but Syria. The only way in which Bonaparte can reach Constantinople is by a march along the coast and our only chance of preventing him from doing so is by giving our greatest possible support to the Turks in the coastal fortresses he will have to attack. The blockade of the Egyptian coast could easily be maintained by two frigates and some smaller craft. It had, therefore, been my intention to order Captain Hood to join me here with his line-of-battle ships. This is where they should be, and they would have proved invaluable. But, alas, I have been deprived of the right to make proper use of them.'

Roger took a good pull at his glass of claret and replied, ^' Sir Horatio's treatment of me rankles somewhat; but I share the universal admiration of his genius as a sailor. Therefore I feel that I can say without prejudice that I judge you to be right. Pray tell me now of the present situation.'

'Bonaparte has twice smashed the Turks-—at El Arish and at Jaffa. He is now advancing along the coast opposite us and obviously intends to invest St. Jean d'Acre. As you will know, it is a mighty walled city. Its fortifications were built by the Crusaders who held it for many years against the Saracen. At present, Djezzar Pasha commands there. He is a most vile man and capable of any barbarity; but he has an abundance of courage and determination. If he can hold it all will be well. If he fails all will be lost, for it is the key to Syria.'

^' How do you regard his chances? '

The Commodore shrugged. ^'1 would say fifty-fifty. I've no reliable information about the size of Bonaparte's Army, but it cannot be very large. Moreover he is so ill-found for provisions that he had to commit the enormity of massacring two thousand prisoners taken at Jaffa, because he could neither feed them nor spare the troops to march them back to Egypt and dared not leave them in his rear.'

^' Yes. I heard about that.'

^' Another factor is that plague has broken out in his Army. If it becomes an epidemic that may relieve us of our anxieties. But should it not, the French will remain extremely formidable. On the other hand, the Turks are mustering two Armies—one in Rhodes and the other in Damascus—both designed for the relief of Acre when it is invested. The question is whether either will arrive in time to relieve the fortress.'

^' Should they fail to do so, Bonaparte would still have to fight them afterwards.'

^' That is true, but the odds would then be in his favour. I am informed that he has sent emissaries to the Christian Druses and other peoples who are restless under the Turkish yoke. At the moment they are sitting on the fence, waiting to see if he can succeed in taking Acre. If he does, they will rise and join him. That could mean his gaining the adherence of no fewer than eighty thousand auxiliaries. With such a force at his disposal it would prove the end of the Sultan's Empire. You will see now how everything depends on our holding Acre.'

^'1 do, indeed. How far do you think you can assist in that? '

^' From off-shore the guns of my little Squadron should seriously interfere with the attacks of the French, but the crux of the matter will lie in Djezzar Pasha's ability to defend the walls of the city. Since you know of my escape from the Temple, you may have heard that it was made possible by a good friend of mine: Colonel Phelippeaux. He was a Colonel of Engineers in the old Royal Army of France, and is a great expert on fortifications. He accompanied me to the Levant and, before I sailed from Alexandria early in the month, I sent him and Captain Miller ahead of me in Theseus. He is now in Acre inspecting the defences and, if his recommendations are accepted, I have hopes that by now they are being greatly strengthened.'

As the meal proceeded, Roger described to his host the collapse of the Neapolitan invasion of the Roman States, the evacuation of the Royal Family and the horror which had subsequently descended on Naples. They then talked of the Russo-Swedish war and the French Revolution. Later Sir Sidney gave Roger an account of his capture at Le Havre.

He said there was no foundation in the story that he had attempted to blow up the docks. He had been given command of the frigate Diamond and a flotilla of small craft, with orders to clear the Channel of French privateers that were then seriously interfering with British commerce. In the course of a year he had captured or destroyed a great number of them; but one, owing to her exceptional speed, continued to elude him. Learning that she was in Le Havre, he had determined to cut her out. Having no Lieutenant available upon whom he could rely, he had taken in the boats himself. The lugger was taken by surprise and captured almost without resistance. However, when Sir Sidney went on board and the lugger was got out into the river, she was caught by a flood-tide and carried upstream. They hoisted sail but the wind had fallen; so at daybreak she was still above the town and becalmed. The French then attacked her from both the water and the land with all the forces the big port could muster; so against such overwhelming odds Sir Sidney and his men had been compelled to surrender.

When they were halfway through a decanter of rich Malaga wine Roger said, 'You will appreciate that, as I owe allegiance only to Mr. Pitt, I can refuse to accept your orders. But placed as I am I feel it would be unpatriotic to deny you such help as you may in reason ask from me. On this I would be glad to hear you views.'

The Commodore remained thoughtful for a moment, then he replied, 'The thing that would be of most value to us would be an accurate appreciation of Bonaparte's forces and his supplies. Upon such information we could settle the best tactics to use in the defence of Acre. If he has strength and staying power it would, I think, pay Djezzar Pasha best to make a number of determined sorties and so prevent the French from creating a strong, entrenched position and from tunnelling beneath the walls. But if the previous engagements of the French, and now the plague, have seriously weakened them, Djezzar would do better to take no risk of his best troops being cut up outside the city, but sit tight and wait until starvation and disease cause the French Army to fall to pieces.'

^' That is sound reasoning,' Roger agreed. ^' Now I must be frank. I have no intention of risking death going backwards and forwards in the desert, or of spending several months at Bonaparte's headquarters endeavouring to get periodical reports back to you of how matters are going there. If in a single mission I can secure for you the information you require, will you agree to send me back to England at the first opportunity? '

^' Yes,' replied the Commodore, without hesitation. ^' That is a fair offer and I willingly agree to your conditions.'

^' Good,' Roger nodded. ^' The next question is how am I to make connection with the French? Although the Turks are our allies, you cannot simply put me ashore. It is certain that I should fall in with a band of marauding Arabs who would promptly murder me.'

^' We could disguise you as an Arab,' Sir Sidney suggested.

^' Thank you, no,' replied Roger with a quick shake of his head. ^' Your Arabic may have been good enough for you to pass as an Arab in Morocco, but mine is not good enough for me to pass as one in Palestine. And, as these people cannot read any laissez-passer with which you might furnish me, it would be useless.'

^' It is a pretty problem,' the Commodore admitted.

After a moment's thought Roger said, 'There is one way in which it might be done: that is by an exchange of prisoners. To the French I am known as Colonel Breuc. If the French have a British prisoner of equivalent rank you could send a flag of truce and, perhaps, arrange an exchange. You would get something for nothing and without being subject to any danger I should be taken straight to Bonaparte's headquarters.'

'That is certainly an idea. Unfortunately, though, as it happens, the French have taken none of my people except a few seamen from boats sent in with reconnaissance parties. And it would look far too fishy should I propose an offer of a Colonel on the General-in-Chief's Staff in exchange for those poor fellows.*

' I fear it would,' Roger agreed. ¹ We are, then, at a dead end, and must continue so until we can devise some plan by which I can reappear at Bonaparte's headquarters as an escaped prisoner without having first to be landed and make my way alone across country infested with murderous tribesmen.'

During the week that followed, neither of them could think of any way in which this could be accomplished. Roger took all his meals with Sir Sidney, who was his senior by only three years, and they had much in common. As they reminisced over events in which, although then unknown to one another, both had played a part, their mutual liking grew. Before long, too, Roger realized why it was that Sir Sidney was unpopular with his naval colleagues. He was by nature haughty and extremely intolerant of those typical naval Captains who were expert seamen but almost entirely ignorant of matters outside their profession. He spoke several languages fluently, was widely read, had an intimate knowledge of events which had led to the present international relationships and possessed a swift, inventive mind. It also emerged that he took good care of his men and that they reciprocated with respect and affection.

On the 15th they dropped anchor opposite the Crusaders' great fortress city of Acre. It lay on a rocky promontory, rectangular in shape and joined to the mainland by a wide area of flat desert and marsh. Thus, as Sir Sidney pointed out to Roger, ships anchored to north and south of the city would be in an excellent position to assist the defence by enfilading assaulting columns. They went ashore and, accompanied by Colonel Phelippeaux, carried out an inspection of the defences.

Roger was amazed at their strength and depth. The four-mile-long wall encircling the town was in most places a hundred feet high and so broad that three coaches could have been driven abreast round the top. Every few hundred feet great bastions jutted out, enabling cross-fire to be poured down on attackers. The succession of culverts, moraines and fosses seemed unending and it appeared impossible that the city could be taken by assault.

But Phelippeaux pointed out that in many places the walls were crumbling and that several of the towers had become unsafe, so would come down easily under bombardment; that some of the moats had become choked, having been used for generations as refuse dumps and that fields of fire had been -rendered useless because groups of shanties had been erected outside the walls, masking the lines of sight. He was particularly concerned about the north-eastern corner of the city, which was the furthest from the shore and largely an area of ruins. An enormous tower stood there but, if once seized, it would be very difficult to recapture, and possession of it would give the enemy dominance over the whole of that quarter.

However, he reported that Djezzar was doing his utmost to strengthen the defences and, as evidence of this, they saw many gangs of Arab men, women and children—hundreds strong— toiling at clearing twenty-foot-deep ditches and hacking down and burning scores of miserable huts.

Two days later a sloop came alongside Tigre, with the news that a French flotilla, composed of small craft, had passed Jaffa and, keeping close inshore, was coming up the coast. The Commodore at once ordered sail to be set and the Squadron headed south to meet it. Sir Sidney's luck was in. They surprised the flotilla that night as it rounded the promontory at the southern end of the long bay. There followed a sharp encounter and the French endeavoured to beach their ships, upon which every boat possessed by the British was sent in and a skirmish ensued on shore that ended in the capture by the British of every ship in the flotilla.

It proved to be a prize of incalculable value as it consisted of seven gunboats mounting thirty-four cannon, which could be used in defence of Acre, and the whole of Bonaparte's siege artillery, amounting to nearly forty heavy guns and a great quantity of ammunition. It would have required a labour force thousands strong to drag these heavy cannon all the way from Egypt by the camel-track that linked the coast towns; so Bonaparte had had no alternative but to send them up by water. Later it transpired that, on finding Sir Sidney Smith's Squadron in the Bay of Acre, he had sent a message back to Jaffa, ordering the flotilla to remain there; but by the time the message arrived the flotilla had already set sail.

It was a body blow to the French, for not only did the loss of their siege train deprive them of the swiftest means of reducing Acre but, as the material had been captured intact, it could now be used against them. Ph61ippeaux was overjoyed and at once set about landing the cannon at the Mole so that they could be installed, as he directed, to strengthen the weakest places in he fortress's defences, and Sir Sidney sent ashore to man them all the gunners he could spare.

Roger's future was also decided by this action. One of the boat parties had rashly chased the French too far from the shore, then found itself surrounded by superior numbers and forced to surrender. The party consisted of a Lieutenant, a Midshipman, a Petty Officer and seven seamen, and Sir Sidney thought it possible that the ten sailors might be released in exchange for one French Colonel. A flag of truce was sent ashore at the southern point of the long bay, on which lay the little port of Haifa, near which the flotilla had been captured. Two hours later the Lieutenant who had been sent ashore returned to report that a French officer there had agreed to the exchange.

During Roger's week in Tigre he had formed such a firm friendship with the adventurous Sir Sidney that he had, on several occasions, been tempted to tell him his real name and the whole truth about himself. But his natural caution caused him to refrain because, even under the seal of secrecy, the fewer people who knew that Roger Brook and Robert MacElfic were the same person, the better. But he now had to become Colonel Breuc again, and how he should account to Bonaparte for the five months he had spent as Robert MacElfic had given him considerable thought.

He decided finally to say that, according to plan, he had gone aboard a Greek ship in Alexandria, had posed as an Englishman and had passed safely through the British blockade. But a fortnight later the ship had been captured by Corsairs and taken to Tripoli where, for two and a half months, he had had a hideous time as a slave loading cargo in the harbour. He had then managed to escape by concealing himself in the hold of a merchant ship and, when she was well out at sea, he had given himself up as a stowaway. To his delight, he found that the merchantman was a French blockade-runner and bound for Marseilles; so he had no hesitation in declaring himself to be Colonel Breuc and her Captain had treated him with the greatest politeness. On board he also met the owner of the ship's cargo, a Monsieur Drapeau, whom it happened that he had known well in Paris some years earlier; so there could be no question of his identity. But when the ship was sneaking by night through the narrows south of Malta his luck turned. She ran straight into

Sir Sidney Smith's Squadron on its way to Egypt, and was captured. As he was known to Drapeau, it had been out of the question to pretend that he had lied to the Captain about being Colonel Breuc and that he was in fact an Englishman; so, since Sir Sidney was not calling at any port under British control, he had been carried on to Syria as a prisoner.

At that time ships were being captured almost daily throughout the Mediterranean, either by Barbary pirates or the ships of the warring nations; so there was nothing in the least improbable in such a story, which provided a complete explanation of his never having reached France.

By six o'clock he had first cut then shaved off the fine, brown, curly beard that he had grown as MacElfic, and was ready to go ashore. Compared with other missions he had undertaken, he did not expect this last hazard in the Near East to prove particularly difficult or dangerous. Now that the French Army was arriving outside Acre there was no longer anything to be feared from marauding Arabs and Sir Sidney's gunboats would be constantly patrolling within cannon shot of the coast. He would be escorted at once to Bonaparte's headquarters and a few days there should be sufficient to inform himself of the size and resources of the Army. The odds were that the headquarters would be no more than a few miles from the coast; so he should be able to slip away from them one night and, as a Colonel, no French picket would interfere with his making his way to the shore. Only then might he meet with difficulties. However, there were still plenty of native-owned fishing boats coming and going in the long bay and before dawn he should be able to find one whose master could be bribed to take him off to the nearest British ship.

Sir Sidney wished him the best of luck and a speedy return. Having taken a cordial farewell of the gallant Commodore, Roger went over the side into a waiting boat. Half an hour later he landed, with the Lieutenant who had carried the flag of truce, at a previously agreed point about halfway along the Gulf, some six miles south of Acre.

A small body of French troops, headed by an officer, was waiting there and with them were the British sailors who had been taken prisoner the previous night. The formalities were soon concluded. The sailors, hilarious with joy that their captivity should have been of such short duration, clambered into the boat and it pushed off. Meanwhile the French officer had saluted Roger and introduced himself as Captain Elbee of the Camel Corps.

Roger remarked on the smart, although now slightly faded, sky-blue uniform of these French troops as it was new to him. After congratulating him on having regained his freedom, the Captain explained, 'We are a new regiment, created by the General-in-Chief last autumn. My men sit back to back, two to each dromedary; but, even so, we can travel at a considerable speed and can range the desert for several days without having to provide water for our animals. The regiment was formed to suppress the many roving bands of these accursed Arabs, and has been most successful. Very soon we became an elite Corps and now it is regarded as an honour to be transferred to us.'

^' Then I congratulate you,' Roger replied. ^' But, since you have such a fine turn of speed, I wonder that you are not being made use of in the advance guard.'

^' We are the advance guard,' the Captain replied. ^' At least, as far as the coast is concerned. The bulk of the Army has now spread out and is enveloping the city. It was, I believe, expected that other advance units would reach the coast north of Acre today. If so, the siege will begin tomorrow. My troop will not now be moving on until I receive further orders.'

^' Do you know the whereabouts of the General-in-Chief's present headquarters? ' Roger enquired.^' If you do I should like to proceed there tonight, so that I can report myself without delay.'

The Captain shook his head. ^'1 regret, mon Colonel, but that is not possible. I am told that the General-in-Chief intends to establish himself somewhere on the slopes of Mount Carmel, so that he can overlook the city. But as you can see we are a considerable distance from the Mount. Parties of enemy skirmishers have been coming out of Acre all day and roving the plain. It is certain they will continue to be active at night. If you proceeded on your own, you would run a grave risk of capture and I have not enough men to spare an escort for you.'

While talking, they had crossed the half-mile inland to the spot where, just out of range of the guns of the British ships, Elbee had made his camp. It was in a wide depression between two rolling sand-dunes on the crests of which look-outs were posted. In the flat valley bottom the remainder of the troops were gathered round a fire at which some of them were cooking supper, and beyond it a score of seated dromedaries were picketed in a neat line.

In all there were about thirty men, but no other officer. Elbee told Roger that since leaving Jaffa he had lost six of his men and his Lieutenant in skirmishes, then he apologized for lacking the means to entertain his guest in the way he would have wished. The baggage camels could carry only water, food and a reserve of ammunition; so there were no tents and supper would be only boiled beans, a mouthful of one of the two rabbits that had been snared and cornmush pudding. He added that one of the reasons for which his Colonel had been only too pleased to exchange the ten British sailors for Roger was that they had little enough food for themselves, let alone prisoners.

As darkness fell they ate their meagre meal, a little apart from the troops. While he ate, Roger, who had been unable to produce identity papers, set about removing any suspicion which might lurk in the Captain's mind that he might be a French Royalist whom the British had planted as a spy. He naturally refrained from disclosing why Bonaparte had sent him back to France or that he had posed during part of his voyage as an Englishman; but in other respects he gave the fictitious account that he had thought out of his adventures in the past five months, calling lavishly on his imagination as he described his sufferings while a slave in Tripoli. He then began to enquire after his many friends in the Army, displaying a familiarity with them that no ordinary spy could have shown.

Elbee, now clearly convinced of Roger's bona fides, replied to his enquiries as well as he was able, and gave him an account of the Syrian campaign to date. The Army had had a terrible time while crossing the barren territory of Sinai, but the spirit of the men had revived again on seeing the wooded hills and fertile plains of Syria. Before El Arish had been taken there had been a fierce encounter with what remained of Ibrahim Bey's Mamelukes, in which Reynier's Division had suffered heavily, but that of Kleber had come to his rescue and had turned a possible defeat into victory. The taking of Jaffa had been a most bloody business. The dauntless Lannes led the final assault that had broken the resistance of the garrison; then, as the city had refused terms, it was put to the sack. Consumed by thirst and half starving, the troops looted, slew and raped without pause for twenty-four hours.

Roger broke in to say that he had been told about the massacre of the prisoners and had been greatly shocked by it, but Elbee sprang instantly to his General-in-Chief's defence.

'What other course was open to him? ' he demanded. 'I am told that he nearly took the heads off the two officers who accepted the surrender of the troops who had broken their parole, because it forced this awful decision on him. For two whole days he wrestled with this problem and twice called a conference of all his Generals to debate it with them. There was not enough food to fill the bellies of our own men, let alone these two thousand prisoners. They could not be sent back by ship to Egypt because of the British, and escorts to march them back overland could not possibly be spared. If they had been released they would have made their way up here to St. Jean d'Acre, and many of them would for the third time have taken French lives. The opinion of the conference of Generals was unanimous. The poor wretches had to be taken out and shot.'

With subtle intent Roger said, ' But, surely, the Army is not so reduced in numbers that a few hundred men could not have been spared to march the captives back to Egypt? '

Elbee shrugged and supplied the desired information. ' I can give you only rough figures, but I cannot be far out if I say that General Desaix has been left with at least ten thousand men to hold Egypt. With the casualties we have suffered in the past eight months that cannot leave many more than twelve thousand of the original expeditionary force, and we have not received a single reinforcement. In any case, only four Divisions entered Syria: those of Kleber, Reynier, Bon and Lannes, plus the cavalry under Murat. All of them are far below strength; and now, to the terror of us all, they are being further reduced by plague.'

'That,' said Roger, 'is by far the worst news you have given me. Has the infection become serious? '

The Captain sighed. ' I am told that a few cases occurred while General Kleber's troops were still in Alexandria, but there was no serious outbreak until his Division reached Jaffa. He then lost some two hundred men in the course of a few days, and it is said to be spreading in an alarming fashion. My own men, thank God, have remained free from infection. But, to be honest, we all now refrain from shaking hands with any man from another unit, for fear that we may contract the pestilence.'

It was now about ten o'clock. Except for the sentries, the troops had wrapped themselves in their cloaks and gone to sleep. Roger and his host decided to do likewise. Having dug holes for their hips in the soft sand, they settled down. As Roger spread his handkerchief on a mound of sand that he had scooped up to make a pillow, he was aglow with satisfaction. Without even going to Bonaparte's headquarters he had learned the basic facts of the situation. The French were approximately twelve thousand strong; he knew the names of the Generals who were commanding the Divisions, and had also learned that the Army was existing on a minimum of rations and that it was now being scourged by the plague.

That information was all Sir Sidney had asked him to supply. With a clear conscience he could give it and require in return that he should be given a passage home. All he had now to do was to set out next day, ostensibly for Bonaparte's headquarters, rid himself somehow of the guide he would be given and, the following night, bribe an Arab fisherman to take him off to a British warship. With this happy prospect in mind, he fell asleep.

Soon after one o'clock in the morning the sound of a single warning shot pierced his dormant brain. He started up, wide awake. Next minute he heard the thunder of horses' hooves. Elbee sprang up beside him and they drew their swords. There was no moon so it was almost dark but, above the ridge, against the night sky, they glimpsed a formidable mass of cavalry charging down the slope.

They had hardly time to draw breath before Djezzar's yelling horsemen were upon them. Roger never knew what happened to Elbee. He was assailed simultaneously by two mounted men, clad in flowing robes and wearing large turbans. He thrust upward with his sword at the one on his right. The point of the sword pierced the man's side and he gave a hideous howl. But at the same instant he had struck at Roger with his scimitar, and the side of the blade caught Roger on the head, knocking him half unconscious. As he staggered back, the man on his left grabbed him by the hair, dragged him off his feet and, exerting terrific strength, hauled him up across his saddle-bow.

His senses whirling, amidst a babel of shots, screams and curses, Roger was carried off into the darkness. After galloping for a mile or more his captor reined in. By then Roger had recovered sufficiently to struggle. Holding him down, the man who had taken him prisoner thrust a cord with a slip knot over his left wrist, then pulled it tight and thrust him off, so that he fell to the ground.

For a few moments he lay there, bruised and panting. A pull on the stout cord jerked him to his knees. The light was just sufficient for him to see that he was among a body of horsemen. To his right he glimpsed another prisoner in a similar situation to his own. A command rang out in Turkish. The body of cavalry began to move forward at a trot. The pull on his wrist yanked him to his feet. Still half dazed, he found himself running, jumping, staggering breathlessly over rough ground, in a desperate endeavour to keep himself from falling and being dragged face downward across it.

Bemused by pain and terror as he was, he was still capable of realizing the awful thing that had happened to him. He could now no longer hope for a swift completion of his mission and a passage home. Instead, he was a captive and being taken to Acre. There the odds were that Djezzar Pasha, with his notorious lust for cruelty, would put him to death in some hideous fashion. At the very best he would become a slave. Only that evening he had amused himself by describing to Captain Elbee the imaginary miseries he had suffered as a slave in Tripoli. He had little thought then that they might actually be inflicted on him before another day had passed.

The Siege of Acre

Gasping for breath, his feet hardly touching the ground, Roger blundered on. His left wrist was already galled to bleeding point by the cord looped round it, he was blinded by the sand kicked up by the hooves of the horses and, from the pull his captor had extered on his hair, his head burned as though vitriol had been poured upon it. Unaided, he could never have run so far at such a pace. The cord drew him on, relieving him of any effort to force his body forward, but the strain of keeping upright was appalling. How long his ordeal lasted he had no idea, but it seemed to him that he had been running with bursting lungs for hours on end before the cord at last slackened. Streaming with sweat, coated with sand and with agony in every limb, he fell to the ground and fainted.

When he came to he was again lying face down across his captor's saddle-bow. After a few minutes the clatter of the horses' hooves on cobbles told him that they had entered the city. Ten minutes later they halted, he was thrust from the saddle and came down in a heap on stone paving. His body was so racked with pain that he hardly felt the thump on his backside and squirmed up into a sitting position. His view was partially obscured by a forest of horses' legs and those of their riders, who were now dismounting; but he could see enough to know that he was in a large courtyard lit by men holding smoking torches.

His captor bent over him, roughly untied the loop of cord round his wrist, spat in his face and kicked him. The man then took the bridle of his horse and joined his companions, who were leading away their horses. Other dark-faced, turbaned men came forward. Two of them dragged Roger to his feet and hustled him across the courtyard to a low doorway. As they did so he saw that he had three companions in misfortune. The four of them were pushed through the door, along a short passage and down a spiral stairway. At the bottom a negro opened a massive wooden door with thick, iron bolts. The light from the torches showed that it gave on to a low, barrel-vaulted dungeon. The prisoners were thrown head first into it, the door clanged to and total darkness descended on them.

The four captives were too utterly exhausted and bemused by pain even to speak to one another. They simply lay where they had been thrown, sobbing and groaning. After what seemed an interminable time, nature took charge and Roger fell into an uneasy dose.

He was aroused by a hoarse voice croaking for water. He had none to give the sufferer and realized that he was terribly parched himself. As he sat up he gave an ¹ ouch' of pain, for he had used his left hand in raising his body. Gingerly he felt his wrist and feared it had been dislocated. He was a mass of aching bruises and his scalp still pained him; but he decided that apart from his wrist, he had sustained no serious injury.

Out of the darkness came another voice that asked, ^' Who are you fellows? '

^'1 am Colonel Breuc,' Roger replied, and the prisoner who had been moaning for water answered:

^' I'm Trooper Auby.'

^' And I'm Corporal Gensonnd.' There was a short silence, then the Corporal spoke again. 'There was four of us. Come on; speak up, number four.'

Silence fell again, then came the sound of scraping. Sparks appeared, a small flame flared and by its light Roger saw two gnarled hands with a grimy, grey-moustached face above them. It was the Corporal; with a tinder-box he had lit a scrap of paper. Carefully guarding the flame, he moved it till the light fell on the others. The glimpse Roger got of Auby showed the trooper to be little more than a boy. His cheek had been laid open by a slash from a scimitar and the blood had congealed on it. The fourth prisoner lay on his back, quite still. After one look at him, the Corporal said :

^' 'E's got nothing to worry about. 'E's a gonner.'

^' Worry', thought Roger, was the appropriate word. As Bonaparte would not even be starting his siege operations until that day or the next, there was no possible hope of rescue. On considering matters he found it surprising that he was still alive, for the Turks normally took no prisoners. He could only suppose that Djezzar had ordered one of his captains to bring in a few so that they could be questioned about the French dispositions. As the word ' questioned' ran through Roger's mind, it gave him another shudder. Being ^' put to the question' was synonymous with being tortured, and he had no doubt whatever that whether they remained silent, lied to please their enemies or told the truth the Turks would use torture on them. They would then be made slaves or, quite probably, as the Pasha was reported to be a monster of cruelty, put to death in some hideous manner.

The Corporal's spill had soon flickered out and he asked if either of the others had any paper on him. Auby had none, neither had Roger, except for Bonaparte's letters which were still sewn into the hem of his travelling coat; and he had no intention of giving those up, unless he saw a chance of buying his life with them.

In hoarse whispers they continued occasionally to exchange remarks. Young Auby was a conscript and the son of a farmer in the Beuce. He had been about to marry his sweetheart when he was compelled to leave her for the Army. In addition to the wound on his face, he had been shot in the side and was evidently in a very bad way. The Corporal was a Lyonnais who for many years had been a professional soldier. He did not seem to be afraid of death, and only grumbled that it looked as if it had caught up with him just after he had had the ill luck to miss the sack of Jaffa, at which he could have had a last, glorious fling slitting the throats of Turks and raping their women.

They had no idea of the time and were too miserable to feel hungry, but thirst plagued them more and more as the hours crawled by. Now and then they heard a faint scampering that told them that rats had been attracted to the dungeon by their subtle knowledge that there was a corpse in it. The thought that the brutes had begun to eat their dead companion filled Roger with horror.

None of them had been searched; so Roger still had his money-belt round his waist and he wondered if, with its contents, he might possibly bribe one of his jailers to help him escape, but he thought it highly unlikely. Why should any of them risk death? If he showed his gold to one of them it was all Lombard Street to a China orange that the man would simply knock him down and take it from him.

At last a streak of light showed under the heavy door, the bolts were shot back and it was pulled open In the glare of the torches Roger glimpsed the rats scampering away from the dead trooper's body. A Turk, who was evidently the senior jailer, shouted, ^' Up dogs of Christians! Up, I say, that you may be sent to your maker, Iblis.'

Roger drew a sharp breath. He had picked up enough Turkish to know that Iblis was the Devil, and to be sent to him signified that they were about to die. He got to his feet and his companions followed his example. Surrounded by armed guards they were taken up the stone stairway and out into the courtyard.

It was late afternoon and a sunny day. From the immensely strong square tower that reared up on the landward side of the court Roger could tell now that they were in the great citadel of the fortress, as he had several times studied it through a telescope from the deck of Tigre.

His glance next fell on a group of half a hundred men grouped beneath the tall casbah. A low dais had been erected there and a solitary figure was seated cross-legged on it on a pile of cushions. From the richness of his robes, the rings that sparkled on his fingers, his jewel-hilted scimitar and the great pigeon's-blood ruby that held an aigrette erect in his enormous, flat turban, Roger had no doubt that he was Djezzar Pasha. To either side and behind him were ranged his entourage. Their costume had changed little since the days of the Saracens and in their circular, pointed helmets, from which depended chain-mail ear-pieces, burnished corselets, jewelled girdles and colourful tunics, they presented a splendid spectacle. Near the dais was a small, wizened man, evidently a Councillor, wearing a green turban, showing that he had made the pilgrimage to Mecca. Beside him towered an enormous negro, naked to the waist and carrying a drawn scimitar. He was obviously the official executioner.

But Roger's glance rested only for an instant on this brilliant array of warriors. At the sight of another erection in front of the dais he had gone white to the lips. It consisted of eight small platforms, about three feet in height, arranged in pairs, each pair being a yard apart. Between the pairs stood four stout stakes, the height of a man and sharply pointed at the upper ends. He gulped, gave a shudder and instantly began to sweat with terror. It was clear to him now that the fiendish Pasha had told his cavalry to bring in prisoners not so that he might extract information from them, but simply to have them killed in his presence for his amusement.

That row of stakes could mean only one thing. A favourite method with the Turks of putting criminals to death was to impale them, and that was the ghastly end which Djezzar clearly meant to inflict on Roger and his companions.

Corporal Gensonne and Trooper Auby, being ignorant of Turkish customs, had evidently not realized the awful purpose that the stakes were to serve. The Corporal was marching forward between his guards, unaided and with set but courageous mien. The Trooper's wound had opened and blood from his right side was seeping down his pale-blue breeches. With the help of two guards, he was limping forward. His face showed fright but no special terror. Roger had halted in his tracks, but was pushed on by the men on either side of him.

As he advanced, he was visualizing the ghastly scene which must soon be enacted. Each pair of guards would mount the low platforms, dragging their prisoner up with them. They would lift him breast-high, force his legs apart, bringing the point of the stake in contact with his anus. Then, each seizing a leg, they would jump down from their platforms, so that their weight would drive the stake up into their victim's body. If they did their work well the point of the stake would come out of the prisoner's mouth or the top of his head. If they bungled it it would emerge through his chest or the side of his neck. But for him that would be a matter of no importance for, in any case, as the stake pierced his vitals he would suffer unimaginable agony.

The prisoners were brought to within a few yards of Djezzar. Roger found himself staring into the cruel, hook-nosed face with its handsome, curly beard and fine, upturned moustaches. Suddenly, in a hoarse voice, he began to plead for himself and his companions. One of his guards struck him in the mouth, reducing him to silence.

The Pasha gave a curt order that the executions should begin and pointed to young Auby. His guards flung him to the ground and ripped off his breeches. Either from terror or because he had lost so much blood from his wound, he fainted. The two muscular

Turks lugged him up between them and forced his limp body on to the stake. Suddenly he came to, his eyes starting from his head, and he gave an awful groan. But it was all over in a moment. The point of the stake came out from his neck and his head flopped forward.

As the deed was done, Roger heard a sudden chatter of excited female voices. Looking round, he saw that about twenty feet up from the courtyard, in a wall at right-angles to the line of stakes, there was a row of open arches. They were filled by about twenty veiled women, who had evidently been summoned to see the fun. A few of them had their eyes averted, or covered with a hand, to shut out the atrocious sight of Auby's sagging body. But the majority were staring down eagerly at it and some were crying in shrill voices:

^' Praise be to Allah and blessed be His Prophet! Death to the Infidels! Death to the Unbelievers! '

But Roger's glance rested on them only for a moment. At the sight of Auby's death, Corporal Gensonne realized what was in store for him. Giving a furious curse he turned on the guard who stood on his right and with one blow knocked him down. The other guard grabbed him by the shoulders. But Gensonne wriggled free and kicked him in the groin. Swerving away, he dodged a third man who had come at him and ran towards the great gate, which stood wide open.

For a moment Roger was seized by an impulse to follow his example. But there had been half a dozen guards lounging by the gate. They were now running in a group to intercept the Corporal and the head jailer with three of his men had dashed in pursuit of him. Against such odds no attempt to escape could possibly succeed.

Djezzar was roaring with laughter at the discomfiture of the two guards who had been standing on either side of Gensonne. But the Corporal's bravery did not incline the sadistic Pasha to clemency. With an amused smile he waited as the ten Turks closed round the solitary Frenchman, seized him by the arms and dragged him, blaspheming wildly, back to the line of stakes. While four of them held him, two others wrenched the breeches from his kicking legs, then they carried him between them to the stake next to that upon which Auby's body hung impaled. Roger closed his eyes to shut out the horror of what followed. The Corporal screamed and screamed and screamed, then suddenly fell silent.

Again there came from the women's balcony treble cries of: ^' Death to the Christian dogs! To Iblis with the Unbelievers! ' Roger knew then that his turn had come. Within the next few minutes life for him would be over. Never more would he enjoy the passionate embrace of his beautiful Georgina, never again see the green fields of England. Starting forward, he shouted to the Pasha in the best Turkish he could muster, and with all the strength of his lungs:

^' Excellency! If you have me killed Allah will call you to account for my death. I have had no trial, but could prove my innocence. I am no enemy but a friend. I have papers to prove it. Sir Sidney Smith will vouch for me. I am not a Frenchman but English and your ally.'

One of the guards again silenced him by striking him on the mouth. Suddenly one of the women up in the balcony cried, ^' He lies. He is a French Colonel. I knew him in Cairo.'

Instantly Roger recognized the voice. It was Zanthe's. Looking up he saw her leaning right out over the balcony. The tawny eyes above her yashmak marked her out from the other dark-eyed women. Djezzar also looked up and called back:

^' Then, moon of my delight, we'll make him wriggle on a stick.' ^' No, Pasha, no! ' she cried. ^' Such a death is too swift for him. In Cairo he insulted me. I pray you to give him to me so that I may see him die by inches. Give him to me for a plaything so that I may be avenged on him.'

Giving a bellow of laughter, the bearded Pasha waved a hand to her and shouted, ^' Beautiful one, when your red lips speak, to hear is to obey. He is yours, to do with as you will.'

^' May Allah reward you, mighty Pasha,' she called down. ^' I'll have him castrated, then he shall live on offal served in our chamber-pots.'

The mail-clad men surrounding Djezzar roared their applause and the women up in the balcony with Zanthe broke into peals of shrill laughter.

At a sign from the Pasha, two of the guards took Roger by the elbows, hurried him away across the courtyard, down the spiral stairs, thrust him back into the dungeon and again shut him up there in the pitch darkness.

Sinking down on the floor, he propped his back against the slimy wall. His thoughts were so chaotic that for a few minutes he could hardly grasp that, temporarily at least, his life was safe.

By a miracle he had escaped the excruciating agony of having a four-inch stake rammed through his intestines and dying with its point lodged in his gullet.

Zanth6's unexpected appearance at the critical moment had at first amazed him. But after a few moments' thought he realized that it was not particularly surprising. When the Sultan had declared war on France the previous autumn, the Turkish officials in Cairo would have been secretly apprised of it long before Bonaparte learned that the "Porte had openly become his enemy. Naturally, on one excuse or other, the highly placed Turks in Egypt would have slipped away to Syria, taking their women with them. As Acre was the capital of Syria it was logical that Zanthe, and whoever was now her protector, should have taken refuge there.

As Roger's mind cleared he began fearfully to speculate on what was in store for him. He had been saved from an agonizing death, but only by a woman who nursed a bitter hatred for him. She had shouted down that she intended to have him castrated. At the thought the saliva ran hot in his mouth and his flesh crept, swallowing hard, he wondered if he would not have been more fortunate had he suffered those few minutes of searing pain and now was dead.

In a swift series of pictures his mind ran back over the key episodes in his association with Zanthe. He had taken her by force, enjoyed her, then found that she had spoken the truth when she had declared herself to be a virgin. Yet he had been for several weeks afterwards under the illusion that, although she had at first fought him off, the pleasure she had later felt during his embrace, wordlessly confessed beyond dispute by her passionate response, had been a positive indication that next time she would give herself willingly to him.

But when he had carried her off from the Viceroy's palace she had swiftly shattered that optimistic belief. With renewed distress, and now with fear, he recalled how she had declared that should he again attempt her she would resist him to the utmost. He remembered also the intense resentment she had expressed at his having ravished her on that first occasion.

And now she had him at her mercy. She could not have made plainer her reason for asking of Djezzar his life. Clearly, she intended to revenge herself on him by depriving him of his manhood and, not content with that, meant to extract payment from him, by hours of degradation and torment, for every moment of pleasure he had had with her.

He did not have very long to wait before his punishment began. After he had spent about an hour in miserable contemplation of his fate the jailers came for him again. They marched him up to the courtyard, across it and through a door under the balcony from which the women had watched the impaling of Auby and Gensonne, then up a flight of stairs and through several passages to a door on which the Chief Jailer knocked loudly with the hilt of his dagger. After a few moments an iron grille was lifted and a pair of heavily lidded eyes peered at them. The door was then opened by a hugely fat negro with several chins, whom Roger at once placed as a eunuch. At a piping call from him, two other eunuchs appeared, took the prisoner over from the jailers and hustled him inside.

The vestibule through which they took him was lit by hanging lanterns made from silver filigree work, encrusted with coloured glass. By the soft light they gave he saw that the walls were hung with rich silk Persian rugs of beautiful design and that the place was furnished with chests of rare wood inlaid with ivory. No sound penetrated to this luxurious apartment and the delicious scent of jasmine hung on the still air.

Roger was taken through a hanging curtain of beads, down a corridor, through another room—an aviary, where dozens of cages held twittering birds of every rainbow hue—then into a loftier chamber with on one side slim, marble pillars supporting arches of lace-like carved stone. The arches gave on to a long balcony that had a lovely view over the bay, in which the ships of Sir Sidney Smith's Squadron were lying at anchor.

But Roger knew that they were much too far off for anyone in them to hear a cry for help, however loud his shouts, and after one glance to seaward his gaze became riveted on Zanthe. She was seated at the far end of the room, cross-legged on a low divan heaped with cushions. Squatting on the floor near her were two other women and behind the divan stood a fat, elderly negress. All the women were wearing yashmaks, but the silk of Zanthe's was so diaphanous that, as Roger advanced, he could see her lower features clearly through it.

Agitated as he was, he still found her beauty breath-taking. Her curling hair, with its rich bronze lights, serene forehead, dark, tapering eyebrows, magnificent tawny eyes and red, full-lipped, cupid's-bow mouth were all as he remembered them and as he had so often visualized them when daydreaming about her. When he arrived at about ten feet from her divan he was about to bow to her but was not given the chance.

Two of the powerful eunuchs seized him by the arms, forced him to his knees, then pushed his head forward towards the floor, while the third shouted in the thin, high voice of a castrato:

'Down, Christian dpg! Down! Lick the floor in obeisance to Her Exalted Highness, daughter of the Sultan Abd-ul-Hamid, Descendant of the Prophet, Shadow of Allah upon Earth, Padishah and . .

He was still declaiming shrilly when one of the other eunuchs struck Roger a sharp blow on the back of the head. His face hit the marble floor with such force that his lips were bruised and his nose began to bleed. Jerking up his head he stared at Zanthe and exclaimed in French:

^' Can that which was said in jest really be true? That . . . that you are a daughter of the Sultan? '

Her face remained impassive, but she gave a slight shrug and replied in the same language, ^'1 am the only daughter of the late Sultan. But do you take me for such a fool as to have revealed it to you while I was in Cairo? Had I done so when we first met you would have demanded a King's ransom for me and, on the second occasion, your General would have kept me as a valuable hostage.'

^' But . . . but,' Roger stammered, ^' how can you be? You . . . you said that you were French.'

^'1 told you that my mother is French, and that is true.'

The enormity of his crime now came home to Roger. To lay hands on a woman of royal blood in any country was lese-majeste; and in Turkey, where all women of good class were so jealously guarded, to have forcibly deflowered a Princess must merit the most ghastly tortures that the Eastern mind was capable of conceiving.

^' Had I but known-' he began.

^' That which is done is done,' she said sharply, ^' and had I been but a merchant's daughter I would have felt no less the disgrace you inflicted on me.' Then she gave an order in Turkish to her Chief Eunuch, the meaning of which Roger did not grasp.

The eunuch clapped his plump hands and two more eunuchs, who had evidently been waiting in an adjoining chamber, came waddling in. One of them carried a large bowl filled with water, the other brought soap and towels and, under one arm, two long bamboo poles. The eunuchs on either side of Roger continued to hold him down on his knees while the basin was set in front of him. The blood from his nose was running down over his lips and dripping from his chin, so he thought he was about to be allowed to wash it from his face. He was swiftly disillusioned.

One of the newcomers splashed water on his head while the other rubbed soap on it, until his hair was in a thick lather. The Chief Eunuch then produced a razor. Suddenly realizing that they intended to shave his head, he began to shout and struggle. In spite of their rolls of surplus fat, the men who held him were very strong; so in his weakened state he could not have got away from them, and he did not try for long. The Chief Eunuch gave the top of his right ear a sharp nick with the razor. Fearing that if he resisted further his ear might be cut off, Roger let himself go limp and submitted to having his head shaved.

It was over twenty hours since he had had anything to drink, but the craving he had felt during the early part of the day had later receded to the back of his mind under the compulsion of far stronger emotions. Now the sight of the bowl of water caused his thirst to return with such force that he even licked in with his parched tongue some of the soapy water that ran down from his head to the corners of his mouth. Unpleasant as it tasted, as soon as the last locks of his hair had been thrown aside he wrenched himself forward, plunged his face into the basin and lapped up several gulps of the water remaining in it.

When the eunuchs had dried Roger's head with a towel and stood back from him, Zanthe surveyed their handiwork with a smile, her two women burst out laughing and the negress gave vent to a strange cackling sound. At a word from Zanthe the old woman brought a mirror and held it up in front of Roger, so that he could see himself. The sight of his head, as bald as an egg, came as a horrid shock and his bronzed face surmounted by the pinkish scalp from which the hair had been shorn gave him the appearance of a clown. As he was inclined to be vain of his normal good looks he could have wept with anger. But far worse was to follow.

Pushing him over on his back, two of the eunuchs held him down while two others pulled off his boots and stockings. They then lashed his bare feet securely to the bamboo poles and lifted them waist-high, so that his body, shoulders, arms and legs still lay sprawled upon the ground. When the poles had been brought in, he had wondered to what use they were to be put. Now a memory flashed into his mind of someone once telling him of the Turkish torture known as the bastinado. It consisted of whipping the sensitive soles of the feet with a thin, springy rod.

Next moment he was experiencing that form of torture. The Chief Eunuch produced a rod and he brought it sharply down in Roger's upturned left* foot. He let out a yell. The rod swished down on his right foot. He yelled again and began to beg for mercy, but his pleas were ignored. Swish, swish, swish, the cuts came down with ruthless regularity, while he squirmed and twisted, shouting, screaming and vainly beating his hands on the floor. By the time Zanthe called a halt to his flagellation, the soles of his feet were raw, bleeding and giving him as much pain as though they had been held in front of a red-hot fire.

When the cords that tied his ankles to the poles had been untied, he was near fainting and lay, a sobbing wreck of a man, before the divan on which sat the beautiful girl whom he had robbed of her virginity. But she had not done with him yet. At an abrupt word from her the eunuchs began to strip him.

Pulling off the crumpled and dirty travelling coat that he had worn since soon after his arrival in Naples, and throwing it aside, they quickly divested him of his other garments. In his present state he was indifferent to the shame of being exposed naked, but when his money-belt was taken from him he rallied himself sufficiently to call out to Zanthe, ^' In that you'll find a blue diamond that I procured as a gift for you while away in Alexandria.'

The belt was handed to her and after going through several of its pockets she fished out the slender chain from which depended the jewel that Sarodopulous had given him. His fleeting thought that the gift might serve to appease her was swiftly dashed. After a casual glance at it she threw it down on the divan beside her and said contemptuously:

^'1 have a score of stones, each worth not less than fifty times the value of this little bauble. But it will serve as a gift for one of my tire-women who is about to marry.' Then she looked at the Chief Eunuch and added, ^' Go to it now. Let us get finished with this business.'

Again water, soap and towels were brought. Roger was thrown on his back and one of the eunuchs sat on his chest so that he could not see what was being done to him; but he felt his private parts being lathered, then shaved, and he dared not move from fear of receiving a severe cut.

The weight of the eunuch on his chest drove the breath from his lungs, the soles of his bleeding feet felt as though they were being held before a fire, his injured wrist was aching dully. Yet his mind was suffering greater torture than his body as he visualized the awful thing that was about to happen to him.

He felt the rough towel against his flesh again, then a loop of string was put over his testicles and drawn tight. His eyes starting from his head he yelled to Zanthe to have mercy on him.

Her cold and imperative voice cut through his shouts. ' Enough! Be silent! This is only preparation. It will be a week yet before we make a neuter of you.'

The eunuch got up off him and two others hauled him to his feet. They pained him so much that he could not stand on them. Between them the eunuchs got his shirt over his head and threw his travelling coat round his shoulders, then half-dragged and half-carried him out through a side door, up two flights of stairs and into a sparsely furnished attic. It had a narrow, open, arrow-slit window and he was just sufficiently conscious to realize that night had fallen. The eunuchs threw him on a narrow divan and left him, locking the door behind them.

For a time he lay where they had thrown him, drenched in sweat and half comatose, his head throbbing as though about to burst. Gradually his greater torments took first place in his consciousness. His feet caused him such pain that had he had a hatchet he would have been tempted to hack them off; his testicles, too, throbbed violently. With an effort, he sat up and endeavoured to untie the string which bit into the flesh at their base; but it was thin and waxed, so he found it impossible to unpick the knot.

Knowing little about castration, he had always supposed that the operation was performed with a knife; but he now thought that that could only be in the case of young boys, such as those the Pope annually ordered to be castrated so that they could continue to sing in the choir of the Vatican. From what Zanthd had said it seemed probable that the Turkish method with fully grown men was to restrict the flow of blood, tightening the string a little each day until the testicles became partially atrophied, and then could be cut off without the risk that the victim would die from loss of blood.

For what seemed an age he lay there, slowly turning his tortured body from side to side and groaning as the tears seeped out of the corners of his eyes. Then the door opened. Raising his head a little he recognized the old negress. In one hand she held an oil-lamp and in the other a large basket. Setting them down, she pulled open his coat and had a good look at him. Producing a small pair of clippers* she cut the string confining his testicles, bringing him swift relief in that quarter. From her basket she then took a pot of salve, with which she anointed the soles of his feet and his lacerated wrist. Having bandaged them, she went to her basket again, took from it a bowl of warm, highly spiced soup and lifted his head while he gratefully drank it down. As she let his head fall back he muttered his thanks but she made no reply and, having collected her basket, left the room.

With his pains considerably lessened, he lay still for some moments and soon became drowsy. The sensation told him that the soup must have contained opium or some other Eastern drug and before he could consider the matter further he fell asleep.

When he woke it was past midday. He felt terribly stiff and his feet still pained him badly; but on a small chest beneath the window he saw that food and drink had been left for him, and he now felt hungry. He swung his legs off the divan and gingerly tried his weight on them. He could not have walked any distance but, advancing on tiptoe, he reached the chest and sat down on a stool within reach of it.

The food consisted of some pieces of cold meat on a skewer, a dish of sweet cakes and fruit. A jug contained a mixture of orange and lemon juice that went down like nectar. As he ate he peered out of the arrow-slit window. Only a small section of the bay was visible through it and the wall it pierced was as thick as his arm was long; so he had to give up any idea of trying to attract the attention of one of the ships in the bay. When he had finished his meal he made his way unsteadily back to the divan and lay down, to be racked again by unnerving thoughts.

From the treatment he was now receiving he could only suppose that Zanthe, with a typically Eastern refinement of cruelty, was fattening him for the kill or at least enabling him to recruit his strength so that he might the better support further torment. If, too, his new theory about methods of castration was right, the string had been removed from his testicles only temporarily. It now seemed probable that to apply it only for a few hours each day would, in due course, have sufficient effect to make the final operation possible without danger. Grimly, he forced himself to accept that he must soon expect a visit from the eunuchs; but the afternoon wore on into evening, and they did not come.

As twilight deepened he fell into a doze, but started wide awake filled with apprehension when, an hour or two later, he heard footsteps outside the door. To his relief it proved to be the old negress. In her basket she had brought him up another meal. Setting it on the chest, she examined his feet and wrist, put more of the healing ointment on them and rebandaged them. Noticing that the chamber-pot which stood in a corner had not been emptied, she picked it up and deftly pitched its contents out through the arrow-slit window.

This time he was able to thank her more coherently for her ministrations, but she again remained silent. When he asked her name she grinned at him, opened her mouth wide and held up the lamp so that he could see into it. To his horror she had no tongue. It had evidently been torn out at the roots, to make her a mute and ensure that she did not disclose any secrets she might learn while in the seraglio.

Roger spent a better night and the day that followed differed from its predecessor only in that he was awake when the negress brought him his morning meal. With it she brought a basin of water for him to wash. From then on for a fortnight his days and nights kept the same pattern. His many bruises disappeared, the soles of his feet healed and his wrenched wrist returned to normal. He had nothing to read and no means whatever of employing himself; so he could spend his waking hours only in an endless series of speculations.

Having considered the possibilities of an attempt to escape, he had soon concluded that it would prove hopeless. The window was so narrow that he doubted if he would have been able to force his body through it and, even if he could, he could not have made from the material available in the room a rope anywhere near long enough to reach the ground. As his money-belt had been taken from him he could not bribe the old negress to help him, even if she had proved bribable. After the way in which she had tended him he could have brought himself to stun her only if his life had depended on it and, even if he had ruthlessly overcome her, his chances of escaping from the citadel and out of the city would have been infinitesimal.

His only means of judging the progress of the siege were from the sounds that reached him. On the fourth day of his confinement he heard gunfire and as it did not, as far as he could tell, come from the ships in the bay, he judged that Bonaparte had begun to bombard the city with such light field artillery as he had been able to bring overland with him. Next day he caught a rumbling sound, as though a small earthquake were taking place. It lasted for two or three minutes, and he guessed that one of the great towers must have collapsed. That would have meant a breach in the walls, enabling the French infantry to launch an assault. The thought raised his spirits considerably for, much as he would have wished the Anglo-Turkish force to succeed in holding Acre, his life or, hardly less precious, his virility was at stake and his only hope of saving one or the other lay in the French capturing the city and rescuing him.

During the week that followed it was obvious that they were doing their utmost to capture Acre, for Sir Sidney's Squadron and, close inshore, the gunboats he had captured were almost constantly in action. Then, towards the end of the month, the firing died down, from which Roger judged that the assaults had all been repelled by Phelippeaux's cannon on the walls and the enfilading fire from the ships. So Bonaparte had failed in his attempt to take the city by storm and had been reduced to approaching the walls by a system of trenches, from which mines could be laid beneath the fortifications.

Such an operation would take weeks, so Roger's hopes for himself sank again. By then he had recovered physically, but at times was harassed by black periods of depression and fear. He could only suppose that, as no further steps had been taken towards his castration, Zanthe was playing a cat-and-mouse game. He dare not hope that she had either forgotten or pardoned him and, if his reprieve could be explained by her having fallen ill, that could only mean a postponement of his martyrdom.

It was on April 3rd, about midnight, that he was roused from a deep sleep. He had not heard the door being unlocked and opened his eyes to find a figure bending over him. The starlight coming through the arrow-slit was just sufficient for him to make out that his visitor was clad in flowing robes, but he could not tell if they were worn by a man or a woman. His heart began to hammer wildly, for his first waking thought was that Zanthe had sent one of her people either to murder him or fetch him to be further tortured in front of her.

Suddenly the figure flung a pair of arms across his chest and fell in a kneeling posture beside his divan. There came a loud sob, then a heart-rending cry.

^' Oh, monsieur! Can you ever forgive me for what I have done to you? *

^' Zanthe! ' he exclaimed and, struggling up, instinctively put his arms about her bowed shoulders.

^' There was no other way,' she sobbed, ^' no other way. Having saved you from Djezzar, what else could I do? Had I not had you treated as I did, the eunuchs would have betrayed me and you would have been taken away to your death. I could justify keeping you here only because I said that you had insulted me and I wished to be revenged on you. Oh, my poor love! How you must have suffered! And I, forced to order all that was done to you, then be a witness to it.'

For a moment this extraordinary revelation, that she had saved him from impalement not out of hate but out of love, left Roger tongue-tied. That she had then been compelled to carry through the role she had adopted needed no further explaining. Finding his voice, he murmured:

^' Think no more of it. Cease your tears, I beg. I owe my life to you and you love me. That is all that matters.' Then with one hand he started to stroke her hair and added, ^' But . . . but when did you find that you loved me? '

Her sobs ceased and she began to speak in a breathless voice. ^' Love begets love. That first night, I could not help but be drawn to you. Your looks, those fine shoulders and slim hips. They would attract any woman with warm blood in her veins. That . . . that was why, in the end, I gave myself so fully. How could I not? But that is not love. I counted you no better than any other soldier who had not lain with a woman for months, and would have taken any little slave-girl just as fiercely. And you, an uncircumcised Christian, had robbed me, a Princess of the Imperial Line, of my virginity! I saw it as my people would —a crime unthinkable. My passion spent, I hated you for it and determined to escape. As you must know, while you were away in Alexandria the merchant ben-Jussif, who owned the house, and his sons rescued me. I sought asylum with the Viceroy's ladies. Then, during the October rebellion, you broke into the seraglio. By then I thought you would at least have found out that I was the widow of the Commander of the Cairo garrison and a woman of high rank. But you claimed me as your slave. Can you wonder at my resentment? '

'I cannot now,' Roger said gently. ^' But what then? '

She stifled a sob and.went on, ^' Being carried off by you again re-aroused my passions. I could not stop thinking of that night in ben-Jussif's house. I wanted you to take me again, to possess me utterly. But I would not show it. I am by nature proud. The very thought that I should wish to give myself to a man who wanted me as nothing more than a concubine degraded me in my own eyes. After what had passed between us I would have died of humiliation had I been weak enough to give you the least sign of encouragement. But there came the morning of your return. You were placed under arrest by that Colonel Duroc. Before you left the house you said to me that, whatever your punishment, you would do the same again for an hour in my company. I knew then that it could not be only as a plaything that you thought of me. It came as a revelation that you must really love me. I felt a dizziness, and my heart melted within me.'

^' Had I but known, nothing would have induced me to leave Egypt.'

Zanthe raised her head and said in surprise, ^'1 did not know you had. Have you been far? '

He nodded. ^' Yes. General Bonaparte sent me on a mission. It necessitated a long voyage. It was soon after landing, on the night of my return, that Djezzar's men captured me.'

Again she lowered her head and began to sob. ^' And then . . . and then I saw you there in the courtyard. You were in different clothes, you hair disordered and in a terrible state. I did not recognize you until you spoke. Oh, Allah be praised that you cried out to Djezzar when you did. Had you not, you would have been impaled before my very eyes. My heart came up into my mouth. I nearly fainted . . .'

^' But, brave girl that you are, you didn't. You kept your head and saved me.'

^'1 know; but at what a price.'

^'1 pray you, forget that. It is all over now. At least . . Roger added, with sudden uneasiness, ^'1 hope so.'

'Yes; yes. You have nothing more to fear. That is, provided it is not discovered that you have not been made a eunuch.'

^' Am I then supposed to have been? '

^' Of course; otherwise I could not have kept you in my private apartments. The horrid business is supposed to have taken a week. By then that string they tied about you would have done its work, had not my faithful Gezubb come up here and cut it off. A further week would be needed for your recovery; so it is expected that tomorrow you will come down and take up the duties I shall give you.' Again her tears began to flow as she added,^' It is I who should be your slave, not you mine. And to begin with, I shall have to treat you harshly. For that I implore you not to hate me. I . . .'

Putting his hand gently over her mouth he checked her lamentations and said, ^' Hush! I could never hate you. Use me as you will. Allot me the meanest tasks. The worse you treat me, the less likely it is that anyone will suspect the truth. A smile from your lovely eyes when no one is looking is ail the compensation I ask.'

Her tears had ceased and suddenly she gave a low laugh. ^'1 can come to you secretly at night, like this, and only old Gezubb will know of it. Then you can ask of me smiles, kisses, caresses and every pleasure imaginable. Tell me, my beloved one, are you now well again and all your poor wounds fully healed? '

He laughed in reply. ^'1 have never felt better, as I will show you if you wish.'

^'If I wish! ' she echoed. ^'How can you know the restraint I have put upon myself this past fortnight? For me to have come to you while you were still in pain could only have proved a terrible frustration for us both. At least for both had I found you willing to forgive me. My most awful fear was that you might not, and had you cast me aside I think I would have killed myself. But in more sanguine moments I imagined myself again lying in your arms. Night after night my heart has beat near to bursting-point at the thought of it. Allah alone knows the strength of my passion for you; and now . . . now that I can feel your hands upon me I have become a furnace of desire.'

Next moment their mouths met in a long, fierce kiss. Breathless, they drew apart and she stood up. With a swift movement she threw off her robe. Beneath it she had on only a voluminous pair of almost transparent Turkish trousers. Undoing her girdle she slid them down, stepped out of them and kicked off her sandals. While they had been talking the moon had risen and a beam of moonlight coming through the arrow-slit silvered her magnificent body as she stood beside him, naked. The light flickered in tiny blue sparks in the valley between her breasts and Roger exclaimed:

^' Why, you are wearing the little diamond I procured for you.'

^' Of course,' she laughed. ^' It is my most treasured possession and I shall always wear it.'

He threw back the coverlet of the divan and pulled his shirt off over his head. As he did so she moved round to the foot of the divan, fell to her knees, took both his feet in her hands and began to kiss them.

Striving to pull them away, he cried, ^' No, no, beloved, you must not do that. Come here this instant and let me take you in my arms.'

^' Nay,' her low laugh came again. ^' This is my rightful place. Did you not know that, when the Sultan sends for one of his women, they greet him by kissing his feet then, humbly conscious of the honour he does them, steal gently up upon him until they can kiss his chest? And you are my Sultan.'

^'1 am also your slave/ he laughed back. ^' Enough of that.' Then, sitting up, he stretched out his hands and drew her swiftly to him.

Later, lying side by side and still embraced, they talked in whispers. As he had supposed, her husband, like many Turks, had cared only for young boys. He had married her solely for the prestige that an alliance with the Imperial House would bring him and had had two other wives, but never slept with either of them. Instead he made his wives flog the boys with rods and birches and it was the performance of this cruel task that had made her hate him.

She had made up the story of her flight from Cairo. The truth was that, after the news of her husband's death had arrived, the guard of Janissaries left at the palace had deserted. Fearing that the palace would be attacked by the mob, she had decided to seek safety with the Viceroy and had urged the other two wives to accompany her. But they had been too frightened to face the streets without a proper guard. So she had set off on her own, accompanied only by her maid and one faithful manservant; on their way they had had the misfortune to be seized by the Sergeant.

She then told Roger that her mother had been a Mademoiselle Aimee Dubucq de Rivery, born in Martinique. In 1780 she had been sent to finish her education in France with the Dames de la Visitation in their Conent at Nantes. After some years there she was on her way home when the ship in which she was travelling nearly sank in a violent storm. The passengers were rescued by a Spanish trader which took them round into the Mediterranean. There the Spanish ship had been captured by Corsairs and everyone in her taken as prisoners to Algiers. When the Bey— Baba Mohammed ben Osman—had heard that among the prisoners there was a beautiful, golden-haired, blue-eyed French girl of noble birth, he had sent for her and at once decided that he would win high favour by sending her as an offering to his overlord, the Sultan.

On hearing this, Roger exclaimed, ^' But this is amazing! I know your mother's story. She is a cousin of the Vicomtesse de Beauharnis, who is now Madame Bonaparte, and who was also born in Martinique. She is a friend of mine and told me once how, while still in her teens, she, your mother and a third young girl all went to an Irish sybil to have their fortunes told. It was predicted that both Madame Bonaparte and your mother would become the wives of great Sovereigns and that their children would become Kings and Queens.'

^' In my mother's case,' Zanthe replied, ^' the first part of the prediction came true. In the Sultan's harem there are always several hundred odalisques, each one picked for her looks; yet my mother was so lovely that they named her Naksh, which means ^'' the beautiful one ", and my father made her his favourite Kadine.'

^' Since you must take after her, I don't wonder. She must also be a woman of great character to have survived the jealousy and intrigues of so many rivals.'

'She is; but she had the help of two powerful allies: Son Altesse Noire, a most intelligent Nubian who is Chief of the Black Eunuchs, and the Circassian Kadine, the widow of my father's predecessor Mustapha III. It is her son, my cousin Selim, who is the present Sultan and, as his mother, she wields great power. She is known as the Sultan Valideh—the head of all the veiled women of Islam. These two put my mother forward as a good influence to help sweep away many barbarous old customs and open the way for Turkey to receive the new scientific knowledge from the West. They hoped, too, that she might gain France's support for Turkey against our hereditary enemies, the Russians. It is owing to her that we now have many French officers in the Turkish Army.'

'What of the latter part of the prophecy?' Roger asked. ^' Have you a brother who is likely to succeed the present Sultan? ' ^'1 have one brother, Mahmoud, but he is not the heir apparent. The Sultanate passes not from father to son, but to the eldest male member of the Osmali family. Mustapha, my father's eldest son by a Turkish Kadine, is the next in line. Only should he die will my brother ever come to the throne.'¹

^'1 wonder,' Roger mused, ^' if the prophecy will come true for Madame Bonaparte. In Paris, a few years ago, when the General was almost unknown, another sybil named La Normande made a very similar prediction about her future. I think, though, that the General has a long way to go yet before he can make himself a King. Tell me, now, how is the siege going? '

'There was most furious fighting up to a few days ago,' Zanthe replied. ^' But the garrison is holding its own; largely, I believe, owing to the help given by the English. It is said that the Admiral Sir Smith often comes ashore and says how the fighting should be conducted. He has, too, several able Lieutenants. There is a Colonel Phelippeaux who has mounted many cannon on our walls and a Captain Miller who commands the British gun teams that have been sent into the city to help in its defence. Even so, the French are making progress in the north-east quarter. I expect you heard that terrible rumbling a few days after you were put in this room. That was a part of the great tower tumbling down in ruins after the French exploded a mine under it, and since then they have held a small section of the outer wall."

For a few moments they fell silent, then instinctively they began to kiss and made love again. When their passion was temporarily spent Roger remarked:

' From the way in which Djezzar addressed you as ^'' my beautiful one" when he granted your request to spare my life, I imagined that, as you had become a widow, he had taken you as one of his wives.'

She shook her head. ^' That he has lustful thoughts about me is

¹ Historical note:

Aim6e Dubucq de Rivery's son, known as ^' The Reformerbecame the Sultan Mahmoud II and reigned from 1808 to 1839.

true. His eyes devour me whenever he sees me, even at a distance. He sent his Chief Eunuch to me shortly after I arrived here, offering to divorce one of his wives and take me in her place. He is a most horrible man, so naturally I declined his offer.'

'Have you no fear that he may attempt to take you against your will? ' Roger asked anxiously.

She kissed him. ' You need have no fear of that, dear love. As I am the daughter of a Sultan he had to provide me with my own suite of apartments, and custom forbids him to enter them. Before the war it would have been a different matter. Then he was virtually an independent ruler and all Syria bowed the knee to him. Married or single, I would not have risked a visit to his city of Acre. But now he is dependent on the Turkish forces and the goodwill of the Porte to maintain himself against the French. It is the right of my cousin, the present Sultan, to give me again in marriage to whom he will, and he certainly would not give me to a Pasha who in the past has flouted his authority. For Djezzar to force me into marriage without my cousin's consent, or molest me, would mean risking his whole future. Being an ambitious man, you may be sure he will not do that.'

With her head on Roger's chest they dozed for a while, then she roused and began gently to caress him. For a few minutes he pretended to be asleep then, with a laugh of delight, crushed her to him. For a third time their mutual passion carried them to Paradise. Then with long, happy sighs, they lay still.

Soon afterwards the first flush of dawn showed through the arrow-slit window. With great reluctance Zanthe sat up and said that she must leave him, but before doing so she gave him most careful instructions to guide his behaviour during the coming day. After another score of lingering kisses and endearments they tore themselves apart.

A few hours later the old negress, Gezubb, roused him from a heavy sleep. With her she brought the garments and sandals of a eunuch. Having washed himself and put on the clothes, he accompanied her downstairs. Zanthe had told him that no one in the seraglio understood French and that he should pretend that he knew no Turkish or Arabic. He could not then be called on to answer awkward questions and, when he did have to appear to have picked up a few words of Turkish, he must try, as far as possible, to imitate the high, piping voices of the eunuchs.

The enormously fat Chief Eunuch was a lazy, normally good-tempered man. He showed no hostility to Roger and, by signs, set him to clear out the bird cages in the aviary. It was not a particularly unpleasant task and occupied him for most of the morning. But when he had finished, two other eunuchs cornered him, and, with cries of ^' Christian dogset about him with their heavy, leather belts.

He knew that if he seriously injured either of them it would be certain to cause trouble and put Zanthe in a difficult situation; so he defended himself as best he could without striking out. Grimly he put up with quite a beating but, before it was over, by good luck, Zanthe came into the room.

Immediately they caught sight of her they stopped, but with her tawny eyes blazing she walked purposefully towards them. Seizing each of them by an ear, she smashed their faces one against the other with all her strength and, from his night's experience, Roger knew that her splendid limbs were as strong as those of many a man. As she continued to bash their heads together they set up a shrill yelling, which brought all the others running into the room.

Letting her victims go, Zanthe pointed at Roger then cried to the assembled group in tones of fury, 'The Roumi is not for you. He is here as my slave and plaything. Should any of you dare to lay a finger on him I'll have you bastinadoed.' Then, turning on Roger, she slapped him twice hard across the face.

That evening, as a further demonstration of her apparent feelings towards him, she made him turn somersaults in front of her divan. Each time his legs were in the air she jabbed a bamboo pole into his side, causing him to fall in a flurry of arms and legs on to the hard floor.

When she came to his room again at midnight she implored his pardon; but he assured her that none of his falls had hurt, and that such treatment was just what was needed to convince the eunuchs that tormenting him and making him a laughing stock for her women gave her pleasure.

Again they spent the greater part of the night giving free rein to their passionate delight in one another, or lying embraced in a blissful doze. Before she left him they devised other ways in which, without causing him any serious pain, she could appear to chastise and humiliate him.

For more than a month matters continued in much the same way, except that during the daytime Zanthe gradually relaxed her severity towards him. The unspoken excuse provided by her to the eunuchs for so doing was that no one else in the seraglio understood French, whereas Roger could read the books in that language which she had brought from Cairo in her baggage. In the morning he continued to clean out the cages in the aviary and later in the day spent hours reading aloud to her.

Night after night, after they had revelled together, she gave him such news of the siege as reached her. During April the French succeeded in bringing their trenches right up to the walls and exploding a number of mines under them. However, in the middle of that month their efforts against the city had been greatly reduced, owing to the approach of relieving forces. A body of troops, said to be commanded by General Junot, had been detached and had inflicted a heavy defeat on a Turkish force near Nazareth. Then, a week later, Bonaparte was reported to have left his headquarters and to have gained a victory over the larger part of the Army of the Pasha of Damascus.

After that the French attacks had been resumed in full force and they had been greatly strengthened by the success of some ships from Alexandria in landing six heavy siege cannon near the foot of Mount Carmel. On the 25th two more towers had been brought down and most desperate fighting had followed. But the Mamelukes, Janissaries and British marines were holding, with desperate valour, the breaches that had been made in the crumbling walls.

Each day the sounds of the fighting grew nearer and, on May 1st, Djezzar's great fortress palace was attacked. Through the thunder of cannon and the rattle of musketry, the battle-cries and screams of the wounded could be clearly heard. The French broke into the palace garden, but were driven out by Djezzar's renowned Albanian guards. On the two succeeding days there was a lull, but on the 'th another tower was blown up by a mine and the French launched a most determined assault through this new breach they had made in the defences. There was fighting in the streets which went on for three days; but Sir Sidney Smith landed his sailors, armed with pikes and cutlasses. The British tars turned the tide of battle and, once again, the French were driven back.

On the 7th great news came in for the defenders. The other Army that had been formed for the relief of Acre was coming by sea from Rhodes and the Fleet carrying it had been sighted.

There was tremendous excitement in the city, and by afternoon the Turkish Fleet could be seen on the horizon. But it was watched with almost unbearable suspense, because a complete calm had fallen and the boats that had been sent out to tow it in could draw it towards the harbour at no more than a mile or so an hour.

At midnight on the 8th Zanthe came to Roger's room as usual; but instead of giving him her normal, loving greeting she flung herself, weeping, on his breast, her eyes distended by tears.

^' What is it, my love? ' he cried, clutching her to him and turning her lovely tear-stained face up to his. ^' What has happened! Have we been discovered? '

^' No,' she sobbed, ^' no, but Fate has dealt us a most terrible blow. An oared galley from the Turkish Fleet made harbour this evening. The Commander brought a despatch for Djezzar. It seems that he wrote to Constantinople, asking a reward for having defended Acre so valiantly. My cousin has sent a firman granting his request. It ... it was that he should have me for a wife. And he will brook no delay. I am to marry him tomorrow.'

A Bolt from the Blue

It was seven weeks since Roger had been captured, and for the greater part of that time he had been Zanthe's lover. The other inmates of the seraglio had become used to him and, since he had become her reader, accepted that she should no longer treat him harshly; so his days passed pleasantly. His period of convales-cense and the lazy life he had since led provided the best possible conditions for him to meet Zanthe's desire for him with a continued passion as great as her own. Also, since she found a thousand questions to ask him about France and other countries in which he had travelled and he never tired of hearing her talk of the strange life led in the great seraglio at Constantinople, the hours of the nights they spent together never seemed long enough.

Even had he been given a chance to escape, he would have thought twice before taking it. Any information with which he could have furnished Sir Sidney Smith would have been hopelessly out-of-date, so there was no duty that his conscience urged him to perform. As long as the fact that he had not been castrated remained undiscovered he was safe, and he was quite content to wait upon events.

Up till now Bonaparte had not suffered a single defeat in Italy, Egypt or Syria, so it seemed most unlikely that he would fail to take Acre. The reinforcements brought by the Turkish Fleet might enable the city to hold out longer; but the French had breached the walls in many places and, it was said, so widely in one part that an assault of fifty men abreast could pass through the gap. Id view of this Roger still believed that any day might see them victorious and the only anxiety he felt was about what might happen on the day of their victory.

If Djezzar's palace were stormed, Zanthe and he might become involved in some wild melee in which one or both of them might be killed or injured. It was certain, too, that the city would be given over to the sack and, if they were caught with the other women and the eunuchs, it might prove difficult for him, with his appearance as a eunuch, to protect Zanthe from the brutal and licentious soldiery. But his quickness of mind had always served him well at times of crisis. He was optimistic, therefore, about their surviving those few hours of danger and succeeding in convincing the attackers that he was a French officer who had been captured. Once they accepted him as Colonel Breuc, Zanthe would be safe from molestation and, as soon as the fury of the sack had died down, he intended to take her to Bonaparte's headquarters.

He would have greatly preferred to take her to Sir Sidney Smith; but his only means of protecting her during those dangerous hours would be by declaring himself a Frenchman and, once the city was in the hands of the French, it would be next to impossible to get her away to a British ship. It was owing to this assessment of the probable course events would take that, much as he loved her, he had decided against confiding to her the truth about himself. Since there seemed no escape from again taking up the role of one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp it was better not to burden her with the knowledge that he would be a spy in the camp of his enemies, at least until he saw a good prospect of getting her safely away from the French Army. Where he would take her when he did get that chance he had not yet even considered. It must depend on unforeseeable circumstances which would arise in the future. In the meantime his mind had been almost entirely obsessed with her beauty and charm, and he was content to remain a prisoner for the sake of the hundred delights she so willingly afforded him.

But now the jealous gods had launched a thunderbolt which threatened to put a swift and permanent end to their happiness. Not only was his beautiful Zanthe to be torn from him; she was to be forced to give herself to, of all people, Djezzar Pasha, that monster whose name throughout the whole Middle East was synonymous with cruelty. The thought made Roger's heart contract. A sudden nausea rose in him. Nearly sick with rage and apprehension, he cried aghast:

' It cannot be true! The very idea fills me with horror. Are you quite certain that this is not a trick? '

^' Dear love, I am certain,' she moaned. ^' The Chief Eunuch of Djezzar's own seraglio brought . . . brought the firman from the Sultan for me to see, and . . . and with it many rich presents of silks and jewels.'

^' Can you not flatly refuse to marry him? '

^' How can I? Any female of the Imperial Family is the Sultan's, to dispose of, and it is unthinkable that I, the daughter of a Sultan should set an example of defiance. As soon as Selim learned what I had done he would be forced to make an example of me. He would send an order for me to be strangled by the bowstring.'

^' To refuse would at least gain us time,' Roger argued. ^' It would take weeks for the news to reach Constantinople and an order for your execution to be conveyed to Acre. Meanwhile-'

^' No, no! ' she cut him short. ^' It would gain us nothing. Djezzar has long desired me and he is not the man to wait on ceremony. Now that he has my cousin's consent he will take no refusal. He will have the Imam pronounce the words over us whether I will or no. Then if I resist he will whip me until I consent to perform all the bestial acts that the women of his seraglio have told me he demands of them.'

^' Then we must escape tonight.'

^' Oh, if only we could,' she sobbed. ^' But it is not possible.'

^'It is,' Roger insisted. 'It must be. It would have been far easier to contrive had we had even a few days' warning. But we must do without. We'll manage somehow.'

^'1 know you to be brave, but bravery is not enough she protested tearfully. 'They would catch us both and inflict some ghastly death upon you. It is my fate that I must suffer, but I'll not allow you to give your life to no purpose. You must remain here, continuing to pose as a eunuch. There is at least a chance that the French will take the city and you will be rescued before your imposture is discovered.'

^' Oh, my sweet, courageous Zanthe! ' He turned her face up to his and kissed her tear-stained cheeks. ' What sort of man do you take me for to think that I would give you up to that brutal sadist while skulking here in safety? It would, I admit, be next to impossible for me to escape alone. For you to do so alone would be equally difficult. But together I have good hopes that we may.

You know the palace. You can judge at which exit we are likely to be faced with the fewest obstacles and guide me to it. I have the strength you lack to break down all but the strongest barriers. Provide me with a good weapon and, should our escape be opposed, I'll hack my way through half a dozen guards to carry you to safety.'

She closed her eyes and clung more fiercely to him. * My splendid love! My paladin! I know you would. I am blessed beyond all women that so fine a man should be willing to die for me. But we cannot escape! We cannot! There is a eunuch on duty day and night at the only entrance to these apartments. You could not kill him before he gave the alarm. Within a few moments the others would be upon you. Did you overcome them, that would still be only the beginning. Outside the door there is a sentry. Hearing the noise within he would summon the guard. Those Albanians are as brave as yourself and armed to the teeth. You could not possibly succeed in cutting a way for us through them. I should see you killed before my eyes. No, no! I would rather let Djezzar inflict what he will upon me.'

Til not have it,' Roger said firmly, 'and by the door is not the only way out. There is the balcony overlooking the harbour.'

^' But it is thirty feet from the ground.'

^' No matter. We will make a rope from the coverlets of divans. I will lower you by it and follow after. Quick now. We have no time to lose. You can rely on old Gezubb, can you not? Go now and get her to help you. I'll come down and join you the moment I have dressed.'

Zanth6 hesitated. ^' Do you ... do you really think . . . ? '

^'1 do indeed.' He gave her a quick kiss. ^' Go now, I beg you. Find me a weapon, then start making a rope. It should be thick and the knots secure, otherwise it may part and one of us may break our neck.'

With sudden resolution she took her arms from around him and turned to the door. ^' So be it, then. In the worst event we can but die together. I pray Allah to protect us.'

As soon as she had left him, Roger dressed. Over his eunuch's robes he put on his worn travelling coat and, kicking aside the sandals he had worn during his captivity, drew on his top boots. Tiptoeing from his room and down the stairs he entered Zanthe's apartments. Here and there a light had been left burning in one of the hanging lanterns and, knowing the rooms so well, he had no difficulty in finding his way to the main apartment. At the far end, to the right, there was a curtained archway that he knew led to Zanthe's sleeping chamber. He had never been in it but now, thrusting aside the curtain, he walked through to her.

The scent of jasmine hung heavily about it and it was furnished with the utmost luxury. But he hardly noticed that. To his relief he saw that Zanthe had already put on black robes similar to those in which he had first seen her and that she and her faithful negress were sitting side by side on the divan, making a rope from a hurriedly assembled assortment of silk materials.

As he entered the room Zanthe stood up. She handed him a scimitar, a curved dagger and the money-belt that had been taken from him. He buckled on the belt and examined the weapons, to find that both were razor-sharp. Then he said, ^' We must keep our hands free, so can carry nothing with us. But take your jewels. Find a small bag to put them in, then tie it round your neck by a thick ribbon so that the bag is tight up under your left armpit.'

While Zanthe did as he bade her and drew on a pair of soft leather boots, Gezubb finished the rope to his satisfaction. Together they carried it out on to the balcony. For several minutes he peered over in the semi-darkness until he felt certain that the coast was clear, then he lashed one end of the rope securely to a pillar and put the other end in a loop round Zanthe's body below her arms. Gezubb, her eyes streaming with tears, knelt down and kissed her mistress's feet, while Roger kissed Zanthe on the mouth and told her that she had nothing to fear. Then she threw her legs over the balustrade of the balcony. Roger and Gezubb took the strain on the knotted rope and lowered her to the ground. The rope slackened and she called up to them in a low voice that all was well. Giving the weeping negress a friendly pat on the shoulder, Roger grasped the rope firmly and went down it hand over hand.

When he reached Zanthe, he peered anxiously into the shadows on either side, while old Gezubb pulled up the rope behind them so that it should not be discovered. The moon was up, but low in the sky; so he could not see far by its light. But this side of the great fortress palace had remained secure from attack and every available man was now needed to guard the garden side; so Roger was hoping that even if sentries normally patrolled the seafront they would now have been withdrawn.

The day's battle had long since died down. Occasionally there came a solitary shot or a short burst of musketry as a sentry on one side or the other imagined that he saw enemies approaching out of the darkness. After a few moments Roger took Zanthd's arm and said:

^' Come, beloved, we must now to try to find a boat.'

^' A boat! ' she echoed in surprise. ^' Surely it would be rash to leave the harbour and try to make our way along the coast. We might be captured by the British.'

Now that an escape from Djezzar's palace had been forced upon Roger, the fact that the French had not yet taken Acre had, during the past hour, caused him to change his plans completely. As matters stood it would be difficult and dangerous to attempt to reach the French, whereas it should prove comparatively easy to get taken aboard a British ship. Drawing her forward, he said:

^' That is just what I intend. We must place ourselves under the protection of Sir Sidney Smith as soon as possible.'

^' But,' she objected, ^' as a Frenchman they will make you a prisoner-of-war.'

There was no time to start explaining to her the complicated ramifications of the life he had long been leading; so he replied quickly, ^' No matter. The English are chivalrous people. They will do me no harm, and placing ourselves in their hands is by far the simplest way of saving you from Djezzar.'

^' No, no! You are mistaken,' she cried, pulling back. ^' The English are Djezzar's allies. When he learns that I have fled he will be berserk with rage and have a search made for me everywhere. It would be impossible to conceal the fact that I have taken refuge on a British ship. The news that a Turkish lady had been brought aboard by a French Colonel would swiftly spread. Djezzar would demand my return and the English Admiral would have to hand me over.'

^' Dearest, he would not,' Roger replied. ^' Sir Sidney Smith is a most chivalrous man. When he hears that a blackguard like Djezzar means to force you to marry him you may be sure he will give you his protection.'

^' You are wrong,' she argued breathlessly. ^' In time of war great Captains cannot afford to allow their actions to be governed by sentiment. Recall what happened in Cairo. The French then regarded the Turks as their allies. To appease the Viceroy, General Bonaparte returned me to him and dismissed you, although you were one of his favourite officers. In this case you would not have even that much in your favour. You'd be no more than an enemy officer who had given himself up. How could the Admiral refuse to send back to Djezzar a woman whom he has the Sultan's permission to marry? '

This was a possibility that had not occurred to Roger during the brief time since he had made his change of plan. The influence he could exert on Sir Sidney was very much greater than Zanthe knew. Even so, would it be sufficient to protect her? The British Commander must place the interests of his country before all else and, in this case, they were that, in order to inflict as much damage as possible on the French, Acre must be held for as long as human endeavours could hold it. A bitter quarrel with Djezzar might have disastrous results. The Pasha had a reputation not only for cruelty but also for treachery. Rather than sacrifice more men in desperate assaults, Bonaparte might be willing to negotiate with him and give him generous terms to surrender the city. Sir Sidney could not be expected to risk that for the sake of a woman.

As these thoughts were running through Roger's mind, Zanthe clung to his arm and implored him, ^' Please! Please, my love, let us go to the French. Only with them will I be safe from Djezzar. If you take me to the English our escape will be in vain. You will have sacrificed yourself for me by becoming their prisoner and within two days at most I shall be in Djezzar's seraglio and at his mercy.'

^' You are right, my sweet,' Roger admitted reluctantly, ^' but it means exposing ourselves to much greater danger. We needs must pass through the battle zone before we can consider ourselves safe, and risk being shot at by the sentries on both sides.'

^'1 am not frightened. You are so brave that I know you will get me through.'

Roger knew only too well that this was no question of bravery. Fie could only exercise the utmost caution and hope for luck. But now that he was again in danger his mind had become extraordinarily alert, and he knew that he could rely on those faculties of wariness, keen sight, swift decision and violent action which in the past had served him so well.

Placing her on his left so that his sword-arm was free, he said, ^' We must walk forward at a natural pace. If you see anyone ahead of us just press my arm but do not speak. If anyone challenges us say that you are a midwife and that I am escorting you to a birth. Should we be attacked do not run away unless I tell you to.'

Heading towards the northern side of the city, they advanced for some two hundred yards alongside the wall of the palace until the wharf on their other side ended. In the narrow street beyond it two men stood talking, but they took no notice of Roger and Zanthe as they passed. A hundred yards further on they came upon the first rubble they had encountered. It was the remains of a house that had collapsed when a cannon ball had carried away one of the main beams. Scrambling over it, they entered a small square. Half a hundred soldiers of the garrison were lying or squatting there. Most of them were utterly exhausted after the day's fighting. It was necessary to pick a way among them, but only one or two wakeful ones muttered at them as they did so. On the far side of the square they entered another street, almost choked with rubble which in some places was fifteen feet high.

In a whisper Zanthe suggested trying another route, but Roger whispered back, ^' No, where the way is fairly clear it is certain there will be squads of soldiers posted ready to resist a surprise night attack. No surprise could be achieved through a blocked street like this; so we are much less likely to run into an officer who'll demand to know where we're going, and there won't be any women about to give birth out here.'

Laboriously they climbed the mountain of fallen brick and charred woodwork, then stumbled across its uneven surface for some three hundred yards. Now and then they slipped or tripped and twice ran into rotting bodies. The stench was terrible and the rats, which had multiplied enormously during the siege, peered at them boldly with little, fiery eyes. Roger helped Zanth<5 as best he could but, as they could see only vaguely where they were putting their feet, both of them fell down several times. At length they scrambled down into an open space with trees in it. It must once have been a garden. There, with bruised knees and scratched hands, they sat down for some minutes to get back their breath.

When they went on again they moved cautiously from tree to tree, pausing in the deeper shadow cast by each to listen and peer forward. From near the far edge of the trees they could see against the night sky a huge ruin and, to the left of it, a row of broken arches. Zanthe whispered, ^' That must be all that is left of the great north-east tower; beyond it is the Roman aqueduct.*

A moment later they caught the sound of footseps, so quickly crouched down behind a nearby bush. I proved to be a squad of troops emerging from one of the unblocked entrances to the city. Their boots kicking against fallen stones and bricks, they marched across to the right of the ruined tower. When they had passed, Roger and Zanthe set off towards the aqueduct. To reach it they had to cross another patch of rubble; but it was lighter there than it had been between the remains of houses in the wrecked street, so they got through it more easily. Beyond it rose the aqueduct.

Cautiously approaching the nearest arch, Roger looked through it. At the far end, leaning against the wall, barely a dozen feet away, stood a figure. It was a sentry, but he was keeping watch for anyone approaching the city and his back was turned. With Zanth6 behind him Roger tiptoed forward. The thought of killing a man taken unawares had always been repugnant to him, so he reversed his scimitar. At that moment the sentry sensed that there was someone behind him and half turned. Before he could do more Roger struck him hard on the head with the thick, back edge of the curved blade.

The man fell to his knees, but the thickness of his turban had saved him from being knocked senseless. He opened his mouth and there issued from it the beginnings of a shout. Springing past Roger with the swiftness of a panther, Zanthe buried a dagger in the man's neck, reducing his shout to a horrible gurgle.

It shook Roger to see a lovely girl of seventeen kill a man so ruthlessly, but he knew that standards were different in the East and life was held cheap. Moreover he realized that she had probably saved them from capture, so he commended her warmly for her swiftness and courage.

A hundred yards beyond the aqueduct lay the great wall, but that sector of it had been battered to pieces by Bonaparte's artillery. It was now no more than a long, high mound, composed of the earth in its interior and chunks of brickwork that had been its casing. Again they climbed until they were fifty feet above ground-level. As they neared the top of the ridge Roger went down on his hands and knees and whispered to Zanthe to be extra cautious, as he expected there would be an outer line of sentries posted here. In that he proved mistaken and they soon learned the reason.

Having reached the crest they lay side by side for some minutes, looking about them and listening intently, then Roger said, 'I think the coast is clear, so we'll go forward.' Not realizing that she would be exposing herself against the skyline, Zanthe incautiously stood up. Next minute a series of flashes stabbed the darkness, both in front of and behind them, and the stillness was shattred by the reports of half a dozen muskets. In an instant Roger pulled her down and the bullets whizzed and spattered harmlessly to either side of them, but it was a nasty moment.

Being shot at both from front and rear had made it obvious that they were now in no man's land. Roger drew Zanthe back a few yards down the city side of the slope, then they crawled along until they had put some distance between themselves and the place where she had been fired at. Still on their stomachs they wriggled over the ridge and down the far side. As they advanced, the stench of dead bodies increased to nausea-point, and near the bottom of the slope they suddenly slid into a deep ditch that was half full of corpses.

Giving a shudder, Zanthe gulped, ^' Allah defend us; this is horrible! Help me out of here, dear one, or I'll be sick.'

Quickly, Roger gave her a hand to scramble up over the far side of the ditch. As he did so, he whispered, ' Crawl twenty yards, then wait for me. This is just what I was hoping to come upon. I may be quite a time, but don't worry.' Then he let himself slide back on to the pile of dead bodies.

The light was only just sufficient for him to make them out individually. They had evidently been killed in a recent assault, as none of them was in a state of actual decay. There were about thirty of them, mostly French, with a few turbaned Muslims among them. Mainly by feel, he formed an idea of their size and it did not take him long to find a body of roughly his own build; but it was no easy matter to get the dead man's uniform from his stiff corpse. To do so, Roger had to use his dagger and cut the cloth in several places. However, he felt that by now Bonaparte's troops had been reduced to such a ragged state that the hacked condition of the uniform would not cause comment. Taking off his own worn travelling coat, he struggled into the tail-coat and breeches of the soldier. He then cut off that part of the hem of the travelling coat in which Bonaparte's despatches had for many months lain rolled up and put the piece of cloth containing them in his pocket.

It was a more difficult matter to find a uniform suitable for Zanthe. Holding his nose now and then to prevent himself from vomiting, he continued to search until he came upon a shortish man who, although much broader than Zanthe, looked about her height. Having got the uniform off this second man, he hunted round till he found two muskets, two bandoliers and a grenadier's shako.

This repulsive labour took him the best part of an hour, but he found Zanthe waiting in patient confidence that he would rejoin her as soon as he could. Loath as she was to exchange her silken robe for the bloodstained uniform, she made no protest about so doing. He put one of the bandoliers over her shoulders and concealed her long hair by tucking it up under the shako, but he kept both muskets to carry himself.

Giving her a kiss, he told her that he now felt their chances of getting into the French lines without being fired upon were much better and, standing up, they walked forward. As they advanced, Roger began to curse loudly in French, using phrases which would give the impression to anyone who heard him that he had lost his way in the darkness.

When they had covered a few hundred yards a voice to their right and a little to their rear suddenly shouted, 'Who are you? And where the hell d'you think you're going? '

Halting, Roger gave one of the muskets to Zanthd and shouted back, ' We're lost. Can you tell us the way to Company Headquarters? '

A tall figure, wearing the same type of shako as Zanthe's, emerged out of the darkness. With the rasping scorn of a typical Sergeant-of-the-line, he bellowed at them, ^' Company Headquarters, indeed! Why not ask the way to the " Little Corporal's " headquarters and tell me he's invited you to breakfast? ' Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he added, ^' 'Cos I'm new to the Company, don't think you can put it over on me. Get back to the rest and give a hand with them sandbags, or I'll have the hide off the two of you.'

In the face of this threat Roger swiftly decided that, should he declare himself to be one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp, he would not be believed and would land himself in a packet of trouble. Adopting the only alternative he set off, with Zanthe beside him, in the direction of the Sergeant had indicated, hoping that they would soon be rid of him. But he turned and followed them until they came upon a platoon of troops, some of whom were filling sandbags and others carrying off the filled sacks through the semi-darkness.

Stacking their muskets with others, they picked up two spades, intending to fill some of the sacks; but the men who had this easier job cursed them and pushed them aside, so they were forced to join the chain of sack carriers. The stronger men were carrying a sack apiece, but a number had been so weakened by lack of nourishing rations that they could manage only a sack between two. This enabled Roger and Zanthe to work together but, even so, it was fortunate that she was a strong-limbed girl, as she had to support one end of the sack and each one seemed to weigh half a ton.

The task of the working party was to build, while darkness lasted, a series of small redoubts for the protection of gun teams, so that the artillery men could bring up their field-pieces closer to the city. But they were never completed. After Roger and Zanthe had been wearily carrying sandbags for over two hours, without any chance having arisen for them to get away undetected, several shots suddenly rang out. They were followed by shouting and a bugle call.

Dropping their burdens, the men ran back to the place where they had stacked their muskets, grabbed them, ran on another twenty yards and jumped down into a trench. Roger and Zanth<£ lost no time in following them. The shouting increased, there came the noise of hundreds of feet running down the outer slope of what had been the great wall and Roger guessed at once that this must be one of the sorties that the garrison had frequently made during the siege to prevent the French getting a firm hold on any of the breaches they had made in the walls.

Pushing Zanthe behind him, Roger took a firm grip of his musket. The thundering feet came nearer, the shouting of war-cries became deafening. The men on either side of Roger were up on the fire-step of the trench with their muskets levelled. Someone gave the order to fire. Seconds later there came the crash of the volley. It was succeeded by yells and screams, but the attackers still came on. A Muslim of no great size, but with huge, black moustaches and fiery eyes, suddenly appeared above the trench, then leapt down on Roger.

It was his last leap. Roger had never practised bayonet fighting; but he knew that if he failed to kill this kind of fanatic outright he was liable, however seriously wounded his enemy, to be killed himself. With the barrel of his musket he parried the Muslim's spear-thrust, then jabbed the bayonet in below the man's ribs. The Muslim's own weight forced the point up into his heart. He made another feeble stab with his spear, then his eyes rolled up and he was dead.

A second Muslim sprang over Roger's head across the trench, another and yet another followed. In the immediate vicinity, apart from hand-to-hand encounters that were going on to either side some way along the trench, there came a brief lull. But bugles were blaring in all directions and a battery of guns opened somewhere in the rear.

There came the sound of running feet again, this time from the opposite direction. The French infantry, in the reserve trenches had held the attack and were now driving the enemy back. A wounded Muslim tumbled into the trench behind Zanthe. Squirming round, he made a slash at her ankles with his scimitar. Just in time, Roger took the swipe on his bayonet, then jabbed it with all his force into the man's gullet. As he put his foot on the Muslim's chest to wrench the bayonet free from his contracted neck muscles, three or more other Muslims leapt the trench in flight back to the city. Hard on their heels came the French.

The Sergeant, twenty yards away to Roger's left, was yelling: ^'Up you go, lads! Get after the swine! No quarter! Give it 'em in the kidneys as they run. Come on now! ' He was already out on the parapet and the men on either side were scrambling up over it.

Swiftly, Roger took advantage of the fact that the light was not sufficient for his actions to be seen from any distance. Falling on his knees, he pulled Zanthe down and said, ^' Lie on your stomach with an arm twisted behind you. We must sham dead, or the Sergeant will force us to take part in the fighting.'

As she obeyed him, he thrust a hand on to the wound of the nearest dead Muslim, smeared blood from it over his own face and threw himself on his back across Zanthe's legs. He had acted none too soon. The Sergeant was striding along the parapet of the trench, routing out laggards with a spate of curses. But after one glance at Roger's bloody face and the tangle of bodies about him he passed on.

Having given him time to get well away, Roger got to his feet, jumped up on the fire-step and peered about him. It was getting a little lighter, the stars were paling in the east and dawn could not be far off, but he still could not see very far because the smoke from the muskets now helped to limit the field of vision. As far as he could make out, the Muslims had rallied on the crest of what remained of the wall and a fierce conflict was taking place there.

So far, during the loilg night, he had been buoyed up by the need for being constantly on the alert and the knowledge that, one after the other, he was surmounting the perils that beset him. But now he was suddenly seized with fears and forebodings. They had escaped from Djezzar's palace, come through the city unchallenged, overcome the one sentry who had endangered their flight, secured uniforms which would protect them from being shot on sight by the French and succeeded in reaching the French lines. But now fortune seemed to have deserted them. They had become caught up in the midst of a battle and he could see no way of getting them out of it.

The Unholy Land

Roger was in a terrible quandary. Now that a battle had begun it seemed certain that both sides would throw in reinforcements and the struggle in that sector would continue for many hours. If he and Zanthe continued to sham dead and within a short time the Muslims re-took the trench they would, as was their custom, slaughter any wounded and mutilate any dead they found there. If the Muslims were held at bay French stretcher-bearers would make their appearance. Having collected the wounded they would, as they invariably did, search the dead for any items of value they might have on them. When they found him and Zanthe apparently unconscious, but still alive, they would revive them and force them to go forward to join in the fighting. Worse, should an officer be present he would arrest them and give them short shrift as cowardly malingerers. Even should they escape such calamitous attentions they could not possibly remain there shamming dead all day. Heat, thirst, the' stench and the myriads of flies that would be attracted by the wounds of the dead would force them into making a move in one direction or the other. But which?

If they went forward they could not escape becoming involved in the fighting. Against the fanatical Muslims Roger knew he would have all his work cut out to defend himself. It would be almost impossible to protect Zanthe at the same time, and the thought of her being cut down or having a pike thrust through her body was unbearable. Yet if they made for the rear that held the worst risk of all. They could not possibly get far without meeting other troops. As they were unwounded it would at once be assumed that they had turned tail and run. In Bonaparte's

Army there was only one penalty for deserting one's comrades when in action: it was to be shot out of hand without even the formality of a drumhead court martial.

As Roger wrestled with this problem, a tall soldier came lurching out of the murk towards the trench. Staggering from side to side, he reached its parapet some ten yards to Roger's right, tripped on it and fell headlong into the trench. Roger had seen that the man was carrying something that projected a good two feet above his head. Wondering what it could be, he scrambled along to find out. As he came nearer and realized what the object was, he gave a cry of delight. The man was a giant Sergeant of Grenadiers, and he was clutching to his chest a captured Turkish standard.

The Sergeant lay twisted sideways. From his mouth a stream of blood gushed, then he was quite still. Obviously he had received a mortal internal wound and his fall into the trench had finished him. Stooping, Roger took the standard from the clutching fingers. The lower few feet of the pole had been broken off, but the standard itself was intact. It was not a flag, but a flat, diamond-shaped sheet of silver cut out to form an intricate design of Arabic letters. It was surmounted by a crescent lying on its back, from which hung a fine horse-tail.

Carrying it back to Zanthe, he exclaimed, ^' My sweet, your prayers to Allah for our safety have been answered. See, he has sent us this. It will prove our safe-conduct to the rear of the French lines. We have only to tell everyone we meet that we have been ordered to take it to Bonaparte.'

Without losing a moment they climbed out over the back of the trench and set off. But they were not yet out of danger. The guns of the city were replying to the French artillery and were trained on reinforcements that were hurrying forward. They had covered only fifty yards when a cannon ball bounded past within two feet of Zanthe. There was little cover but, zigzagging from side to side, they ran on, taking such advantage of the ground as they could.

Dawn had now come. Ahead of them they saw a company of infantry coming towards them at the double. Roger raised the captured standard high above his head and cried, ' Vive la France! Vive Bonaparte! ' The nearest officer grinned and waved his sword in reply. The men broke into cheers as they streamed past them.

Another five minutes and they were out of range of the guns. Fulling up, they sat down on some rocks to regain their breath. Laughing, they hugged one another, then Roger said:

' I have as yet had little chance to think of your situation while with the French Army, but I count it unlikely that there will be other women at headquarters. For your protection it seems best that I should give out that you are my fiancee.'

Lifting his hand, she kissed it then gave him her most ravishing smile. ^' The will of Allah has made you my dear lord, and I am happy that you should wish everyone to know it.'

Soon afterwards they set off at a walk and, although the strain of the past night was now telling heavily on them, they met with no difficulties. Everywhere they were greeted with cheers and, after many enquiries, learned the whereabouts of the General-in-Chief's headquarters. He had come up from Mount Carmel to direct the battle and had taken up his position on a slight rise about three miles from the city.

As they trudged up the slope, they saw that a marquee had been set up for him and that he was standing in front of it with his telescope to his eye, surrounded by his Staff, several of whom were mounted ready to gallop off with his orders to the different Divisions and Brigades. Not thinking it fitting to approach him while he was making his decisions, Roger halted some thirty yards from the edge of the group, then he and Zanthe turned to look back across the plain at the city from which they had escaped.