“Seems to me,” said Blenkiron, bending over me, “that this joy-ride is going to come to an untimely end pretty soon. Peter’s right. That young man will set the telegraph going, and we’ll be held up at the next township.”
“He’s got to get to a telegraph office first,” I answered. “That’s where we have the pull on him. He’s welcome to the screws we left behind, and if he finds an operator before the evening I’m the worst kind of a Dutchman. I’m going to break all the rules and bucket this car for what she’s worth. Don’t you see that the nearer we get to Erzerum the safer we are?”
“I don’t follow,” he said slowly. “At Erzerum I reckon they’ll be waiting for us with the handcuffs. Why in thunder couldn’t those hairy ragamuffins keep the little cuss safe? Your record’s a bit too precipitous, Major, for the most innocent-minded military boss.”
“Do you remember what you said about the Germans being open to bluff4? Well, I’m going to put up the steepest sort of bluff. Of course they’ll stop us. Rasta will do his damnedest. But remember that he and his friends are not very popular with the Germans, and Madame von Einem is. We’re her proteges, and the bigger the German swell5 I get before the safer I’ll feel. We’ve got our passports and our orders, and he’ll be a bold man that will stop us once we get into the German zone. Therefore I’m going to hurry as fast as God will let me.”
It was a ride that deserved to have an epic6 written about it. The car was good, and I handled her well, though I say it who shouldn’t. The road in that big central plain was fair, and often I knocked fifty miles an hour out of her. We passed troops by a circuit over the veld, where we took some awful risks, and once we skidded7 by some transport with our off wheels almost over the lip of a ravine. We went through the narrow streets of Siwas like a fire-engine, while I shouted out in German that we carried despatches for headquarters. We shot out of drizzling8 rain into brief spells of winter sunshine, and then into a snow blizzard9 which all but whipped the skin from our faces. And always before us the long road unrolled, with somewhere at the end of it two armies clinched10 in a death-grapple.
That night we looked for no lodging11. We ate a sort of meal in the car with the hood12 up, and felt our way on in the darkness, for the headlights were in perfect order. Then we turned off the road for four hours’ sleep, and I had a go at the map. Before dawn we started again, and came over a pass into the vale of a big river. The winter dawn showed its gleaming stretches, ice-bound among the sprinkled meadows. I called to Blenkiron:
“I believe that river is the Euphrates,” I said.
“So,” he said, acutely interested. “Then that’s the waters of Babylon. Great snakes, that I should have lived to see the fields where King Nebuchadnezzar grazed! Do you know the name of that big hill, Major?”
“Ararat, as like as not,” I cried, and he believed me.
We were among the hills now, great, rocky, black slopes, and, seen through side glens, a hinterland of snowy peaks. I remember I kept looking for the castrol I had seen in my dream. The thing had never left off haunting me, and I was pretty clear now that it did not belong to my South African memories. I am not a superstitious13 man, but the way that little kranz clung to my mind made me think it was a warning sent by Providence14. I was pretty certain that when I clapped eyes on it I would be in for bad trouble.
All morning we travelled up that broad vale, and just before noon it spread out wider, the road dipped to the water’s edge, and I saw before me the white roofs of a town. The snow was deep now, and lay down to the riverside, but the sky had cleared, and against a space of blue heaven some peaks to the south rose glittering like jewels. The arches of a bridge, spanning two forks of the stream, showed in front, and as I slowed down at the bend a sentry16’s challenge rang out from a block-house. We had reached the fortress17 of Erzingjan, the headquarters of a Turkish corps18 and the gate of Armenia.
I showed the man our passports, but he did not salute19 and let us move on. He called another fellow from the guardhouse, who motioned us to keep pace with him as he stumped20 down a side lane. At the other end was a big barracks with sentries21 outside. The man spoke22 to us in Turkish, which Hussin interpreted. There was somebody in that barracks who wanted badly to see us.
“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept,” quoted Blenkiron softly. “I fear, Major, we’ll soon be remembering Zion.”
I tried to persuade myself that this was merely the red tape of a frontier fortress, but I had an instinct that difficulties were in store for us. If Rasta had started wiring I was prepared to put up the brazenest bluff, for we were still eighty miles from Erzerum, and at all costs we were going to be landed there before night.
A fussy23 staff-officer met us at the door. At the sight of us he cried to a friend to come and look.
“Here are the birds safe. A fat man and two lean ones and a savage24 who looks like a Kurd. Call the guard and march them off. There’s no doubt about their identity.”
“Pardon me, Sir,” I said, “but we have no time to spare and we’d like to be in Erzerum before the dark. I would beg you to get through any formalities as soon as possible. This man,” and I pointed25 to the sentry, “has our passports.”
“Compose yourself,” he said impudently26; “you’re not going on just yet, and when you do it won’t be in a stolen car.” He took the passports and fingered them casually27. Then something he saw there made him cock his eyebrows28.
“Where did you steal these?” he asked, but with less assurance in his tone.
I spoke very gently. “You seem to be the victim of a mistake, sir. These are our papers. We are under orders to report ourselves at Erzerum without an hour’s delay. Whoever hinders us will have to answer to General von Liman. We will be obliged if you will conduct us at once to the Governor.”
“You can’t see General Posselt,” he said; “this is my business. I have a wire from Siwas that four men stole a car belonging to one of Enver Damad’s staff. It describes you all, and says that two of you are notorious spies wanted by the Imperial Government. What have you to say to that?”
“Only that it is rubbish. My good Sir, you have seen our passes. Our errand is not to be cried on the housetops, but five minutes with General Posselt will make things clear. You will be exceedingly sorry for it if you delay another minute.”
He was impressed in spite of himself, and after pulling his moustache turned on his heel and left us. Presently he came back and said very gruffly that the Governor would see us. We followed him along a corridor into a big room looking out on the river, where an oldish fellow sat in an arm-chair by a stove, writing letters with a fountain pen.
This was Posselt, who had been Governor of Erzerum till he fell sick and Ahmed Fevzi took his place. He had a peevish29 mouth and big blue pouches30 below his eyes. He was supposed to be a good engineer and to have made Erzerum impregnable, but the look on his face gave me the impression that his reputation at the moment was a bit unstable31.
The staff-officer spoke to him in an undertone.
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said testily32. “Are these the men? They look a pretty lot of scoundrels. What’s that you say? They deny it. But they’ve got the car. They can’t deny that. Here, you,” and he fixed33 on Blenkiron, “who the devil are you?”
“Our passports, Sir, give our credentials,” I said. He glanced through them, and his face lengthened36.
“They’re right enough. But what about this story of stealing a car?”
“It is quite true,” I said, “but I would prefer to use a pleasanter word. You will see from our papers that every authority on the road is directed to give us the best transport. Our own car broke down, and after a long delay we got some wretched horses. It is vitally important that we should be in Erzerum without delay, so I took the liberty of appropriating an empty car we found outside an inn. I am sorry for the discomfort37 of the owners, but our business was too grave to wait.”
“But the telegram says you are notorious spies!”
I smiled. “Who sent the telegram?”
“I see no reason why I shouldn’t give you his name. It was Rasta Bey. You’ve picked an awkward fellow to make an enemy of.”
I did not smile but laughed. “Rasta!” I cried. “He’s one of Enver’s satellites. That explains many things. I should like a word with you alone, Sir.”
He nodded to the staff-officer, and when he had gone I put on my most Bible face and looked as important as a provincial38 mayor at a royal visit.
“I can speak freely,” I said, “for I am speaking to a soldier of Germany. There is no love lost between Enver and those I serve. I need not tell you that. This Rasta thought he had found a chance of delaying us, so he invents this trash about spies. Those Comitadjis have spies on the brain ... Especially he hates Frau von Einem.”
He jumped at the name.
“You have orders from her?” he asked, in a respectful tone.
“Why, yes,” I answered, “and those orders will not wait.”
He got up and walked to a table, whence he turned a puzzled face on me. “I’m torn in two between the Turks and my own countrymen. If I please one I offend the other, and the result is a damnable confusion. You can go on to Erzerum, but I shall send a man with you to see that you report to headquarters there. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I’m obliged to take no chances in this business. Rasta’s got a grievance39 against you, but you can easily hide behind the lady’s skirts. She passed through this town two days ago.”
Ten minutes later we were coasting through the slush of the narrow streets with a stolid40 German lieutenant41 sitting beside me.
The afternoon was one of those rare days when in the pauses of snow you have a spell of weather as mild as May. I remembered several like it during our winter’s training in Hampshire. The road was a fine one, well engineered, and well kept too, considering the amount of traffic. We were little delayed, for it was sufficiently42 broad to let us pass troops and transport without slackening pace. The fellow at my side was good-humoured enough, but his presence naturally put the lid on our conversation. I didn’t want to talk, however. I was trying to piece together a plan, and making very little of it, for I had nothing to go upon. We must find Hilda von Einem and Sandy, and between us we must wreck43 the Greenmantle business. That done, it didn’t matter so much what happened to us. As I reasoned it out, the Turks must be in a bad way, and, unless they got a fillip from Greenmantle, would crumple44 up before the Russians. In the rout45 I hoped we might get a chance to change our sides. But it was no good looking so far forward; the first thing was to get to Sandy.
Now I was still in the mood of reckless bravado46 which I had got from bagging the car. I did not realize how thin our story was, and how easily Rasta might have a big graft47 at headquarters. If I had, I would have shot out the German lieutenant long before we got to Erzerum, and found some way of getting mixed up in the ruck of the population. Hussin could have helped me to that. I was getting so confident since our interview with Posselt that I thought I could bluff the whole outfit48.
But my main business that afternoon was pure nonsense. I was trying to find my little hill. At every turn of the road I expected to see the castrol before us. You must know that ever since I could stand I have been crazy about high mountains. My father took me to Basutoland when I was a boy, and I reckon I have scrambled49 over almost every bit of upland south of the Zambesi, from the Hottentots Holland to the Zoutpansberg, and from the ugly yellow kopjes of Damaraland to the noble cliffs of Mont aux Sources. One of the things I had looked forward to in coming home was the chance of climbing the Alps. But now I was among peaks that I fancied were bigger than the Alps, and I could hardly keep my eyes on the road. I was pretty certain that my castrol was among them, for that dream had taken an almighty50 hold on my mind. Funnily enough, I was ceasing to think it a place of evil omen1, for one soon forgets the atmosphere of nightmare. But I was convinced that it was a thing I was destined51 to see, and to see pretty soon.
Darkness fell when we were some miles short of the city, and the last part was difficult driving. On both sides of the road transport and engineers’ stores were parked, and some of it strayed into the highway. I noticed lots of small details—machine-gun detachments, signalling parties, squads52 of stretcher-bearers—which mean the fringe of an army, and as soon as the night began the white fingers of searchlights began to grope in the skies.
And then, above the hum of the roadside, rose the voice of the great guns. The shells were bursting four or five miles away, and the guns must have been as many more distant. But in that upland pocket of plain in the frosty night they sounded most intimately near. They kept up their solemn litany, with a minute’s interval53 between each—no rafale which rumbles54 like a drum, but the steady persistence55 of artillery56 exactly ranged on a target. I judged they must be bombarding the outer forts, and once there came a loud explosion and a red glare as if a magazine had suffered.
It was a sound I had not heard for five months, and it fairly crazed me. I remembered how I had first heard it on the ridge15 before Laventie. Then I had been half-afraid, half-solemnized, but every nerve had been quickened. Then it had been the new thing in my life that held me breathless with anticipation57; now it was the old thing, the thing I had shared with so many good fellows, my proper work, and the only task for a man. At the sound of the guns I felt that I was moving in natural air once more. I felt that I was coming home.
We were stopped at a long line of ramparts, and a German sergeant58 stared at us till he saw the lieutenant beside me, when he saluted59 and we passed on. Almost at once we dipped into narrow twisting streets, choked with soldiers, where it was hard business to steer60. There were few lights—only now and then the flare61 of a torch which showed the grey stone houses, with every window latticed and shuttered. I had put out my headlights and had only side lamps, so we had to pick our way gingerly through the labyrinth62. I hoped we would strike Sandy’s quarters soon, for we were all pretty empty, and a frost had set in which made our thick coats seem as thin as paper.
The lieutenant did the guiding. We had to present our passports, and I anticipated no more difficulty than in landing from the boat at Boulogne. But I wanted to get it over, for my hunger pinched me and it was fearsome cold. Still the guns went on, like hounds baying before a quarry63. The city was out of range, but there were strange lights on the ridge to the east.
At last we reached our goal and marched through a fine old carved archway into a courtyard, and thence into a draughty hall.
“You must see the Sektionschef,” said our guide. I looked round to see if we were all there, and noticed that Hussin had disappeared. It did not matter, for he was not on the passports.
We followed as we were directed through an open door. There was a man standing34 with his back towards us looking at a wall map, a very big man with a neck that bulged64 over his collar. I would have known that neck among a million. At the sight of it I made a half-turn to bolt back. It was too late, for the door had closed behind us and there were two armed sentries beside it.
The man slewed65 round and looked into my eyes. I had a despairing hope that I might bluff it out, for I was in different clothes and had shaved my beard. But you cannot spend ten minutes in a death-grapple without your adversary66 getting to know you.
He went very pale, then recollected67 himself and twisted his features into the old grin.
“So,” he said, “the little Dutchmen! We meet after many days.”
It was no good lying or saying anything. I shut my teeth and waited.
“And you, Herr Blenkiron? I never liked the look of you. You babbled68 too much, like all your damned Americans.”
“I guess your personal dislikes haven’t got anything to do with the matter,” said Blenkiron, calmly. “If you’re the boss here, I’ll thank you to cast your eye over these passports, for we can’t stand waiting for ever.”
This fairly angered him. “I’ll teach you manners,” he cried, and took a step forward to reach for Blenkiron’s shoulder—the game he had twice played with me.
Blenkiron never took his hands from his coat pockets. “Keep your distance,” he drawled in a new voice. “I’ve got you covered, and I’ll make a hole in your bullet head if you lay a hand on me.”
With an effort Stumm recovered himself. He rang a bell and fell to smiling. An orderly appeared to whom he spoke in Turkish, and presently a file of soldiers entered the room.
“I’m going to have you disarmed69, gentlemen,” he said. “We can conduct our conversation more pleasantly without pistols.”
It was idle to resist. We surrendered our arms, Peter almost in tears with vexation. Stumm swung his legs over a chair, rested his chin on the back and looked at me.
“Your game is up, you know,” he said. “These fools of Turkish police said the Dutchmen were dead, but I had the happier inspiration. I believed the good God had spared them for me. When I got Rasta’s telegram I was certain, for your doings reminded me of a little trick you once played me on the Schwandorf road. But I didn’t think to find this plump old partridge,” and he smiled at Blenkiron. “Two eminent70 American engineers and their servant bound for Mesopotamia on business of high Government importance! It was a good lie; but if I had been in Constantinople it would have had a short life. Rasta and his friends are no concern of mine. You can trick them as you please. But you have attempted to win the confidence of a certain lady, and her interests are mine. Likewise you have offended me, and I do not forgive. By God,” he cried, his voice growing shrill71 with passion, “by the time I have done with you your mothers in their graves will weep that they ever bore you!”
It was Blenkiron who spoke. His voice was as level as the chairman’s of a bogus company, and it fell on that turbid72 atmosphere like acid on grease.
“I don’t take no stock in high-falutin’. If you’re trying to scare me by that dime-novel talk I guess you’ve hit the wrong man. You’re like the sweep that stuck in the chimney, a bit too big for your job. I reckon you’ve a talent for romance that’s just wasted in soldiering. But if you’re going to play any ugly games on me I’d like you to know that I’m an American citizen, and pretty well considered in my own country and in yours, and you’ll sweat blood for it later. That’s a fair warning, Colonel Stumm.”
I don’t know what Stumm’s plans were, but that speech of Blenkiron’s put into his mind just the needed amount of uncertainty73. You see, he had Peter and me right enough, but he hadn’t properly connected Blenkiron with us, and was afraid either to hit out at all three, or to let Blenkiron go. It was lucky for us that the American had cut such a dash in the Fatherland.
“There is no hurry,” he said blandly74. “We shall have long happy hours together. I’m going to take you all home with me, for I am a hospitable75 soul. You will be safer with me than in the town gaol76, for it’s a trifle draughty. It lets things in, and it might let things out.”
Again he gave an order, and we were marched out, each with a soldier at his elbow. The three of us were bundled into the back seat of the car, while two men sat before us with their rifles between their knees, one got up behind on the baggage rack, and one sat beside Stumm’s chauffeur77. Packed like sardines78 we moved into the bleak79 streets, above which the stars twinkled in ribbons of sky.
Hussin had disappeared from the face of the earth, and quite right too. He was a good fellow, but he had no call to mix himself up in our troubles.
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1
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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dawdling
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| adj.闲逛的，懒散的v.混（时间）( dawdle的现在分词 ) | |
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4
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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7
skidded
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| v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的过去式和过去分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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11
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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stumped
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| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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impudently
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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parable
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| n.寓言，比喻 | |
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lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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43
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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44
crumple
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| v.把...弄皱，满是皱痕，压碎，崩溃 | |
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45
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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46
bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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52
squads
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| n.（军队中的）班( squad的名词复数 )；（暗杀）小组；体育运动的运动（代表）队；（对付某类犯罪活动的）警察队伍 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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rumbles
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| 隆隆声，辘辘声( rumble的名词复数 ) | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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slewed
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| adj.喝醉的v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去式 )( slew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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sardines
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| n. 沙丁鱼 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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