The war maker : $b Being the true story of Captain George B. BoyntonSmith, Horace Herbert
History
The war maker : $b Being the true story of Captain George B. Boynton
Smith, Horace Herbert
Filibusters
Long before he reached it, I saw his objective point, and ran the whole
scheme over in my mind while he was laying down its principles. It
did not strike me as being at all foolhardy. As I have said before,
it is the so-called impossibilities which, when they are not really
impossible, as few of them are, can be most easily accomplished, for
the reason that they are not guarded against. Under the conditions
described, the rescue of Arabi would be comparatively a simple matter.
The chief danger would come from the British warships which would swarm
the seas as soon as his disappearance was discovered, for it would be
a natural conclusion that he was on some vessel on his way back to
Egypt. This danger appealed to me, for it augured well for adventure.
It would be a game of hide-and-seek, such as I intensely enjoyed, with
my wits pitted against those of the British Navy, and with my varied
experiences in deep-sea deception, I did not consider that the odds
against me would be overwhelming. Therefore I promptly assured the old
patriot, whose anxiety and excitement were shown in his blazing eyes,
that I would cheerfully assume responsibility for Arabi’s rescue and
his safe delivery at almost any point that might be designated.
“It is good,” he replied, slowly and impressively. “Egypt will be free.”
Profoundly wishing that the noble little “Leckwith” was at my service
instead of at the bottom of the sea, I added that I had no ship and it
would be necessary to purchase one, as it would be impracticable to
charter a vessel for such a purpose. This meant that the expedition
would require some financing, in addition to the charge for my
services. With a gesture which indicated that everything was settled in
his mind and that it was only necessary for me to name my terms to have
them agreed to, Regal said he anticipated no difficulty on that point
and suggested that I return the next afternoon or evening to meet his
associates, who comprised the inner circle of the revolutionary party.
I told him I would be glad to come at any hour but I doubted that I
could find my way through the labyrinth of narrow streets.
“How has the person who guided you here conducted herself?” he asked.
“Irreproachably.”
“She will signal you to-morrow afternoon or evening. Follow her.”
With that he arose, terminating the interview; we solemnly shook hands
and he escorted me to the door. I was wondering how I should find the
way back to my hotel when I descried Ialla and her four shadows waiting
for me a short distance down the street. Without a word they showed me
the course until I made out the hotel, when they disappeared down a
side street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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