Part 6

She laughed a merry laugh. "I made the coffee myself a short time ago," she said, "and then I must have dropped asleep. The fruit and biscuits were already in the room."

"But you had no stove," St. Just objected.

"There is a brazier in the corner. See? And the saucepan was put ready for this morning by the slave last night, who was not able to forget the habits of a lifetime even when overcome by terror. Though, till my father returned from Gizeh late last night and told us how the battle had gone, we had no cause for fear."

"But how comes it that I find you here alone?"

"My father returned only for more slaves, and left immediately, when he had collected them. He promised to come back for me, or send Yusuf. Yusuf came indeed--he was the man you saw carrying me--but I would that he had stayed away, for he frightened and insulted me. He said that all law and order were at an end; that the French would soon be here, and that he loved me and was determined that I should be his; by force, if needs be. With that he advanced and would have embraced me. I screamed and fled from him; but he soon caught me and was carrying me away, when I fainted. I know no more; you know what followed."

"I do indeed," said St. Just gravely. "God be thanked that I came up when I did. I shudder to think what otherwise might have been your fate."

"It would have been death," she said; "for I never could have survived the ignominy of having been embraced by Yusuf. I should have slain myself at the first opportunity. Thus you have saved my life, my brave deliverer."

She turned her lovely eyes on him--eyes which beamed forth not only gratitude, but the dawn of love.

"You overwhelm me, when you talk like that," replied St. Just. "Any of my countrymen would have acted as I did. But tell me. You said but now, that your mother was a French woman; may I know her name?"

"Certainly; it was de Moncourt."

"What, of Moncourt in Brittany?"

"Yes."

"Indeed! then I have little doubt I have the honor to greet a cousin. I am a St. Just, also of Brittany."

"Truly? How delightful!"

"By what name did your mother call you?"

"Alas! it is an Arab one; I am called Halima."

Hardly had the words escaped her lips, when the sound of two shots following rapidly upon each other reached their ears. Both started to their feet.

"Yusuf!" she cried in terror.

And he, "Oh for arms and ammunition. We have but our pistols and a few rounds."

"Do you want guns?" asked Halima. "It so, there are matchlocks in the house; and gunpowder, too. Come with me and I will show you where they are."

St. Just shouted to one of his men; and Halima led them up a passage, halting at the end of it, before what seemed merely a wall panel. But she touched a knob that formed a portion of the Arabesque that decorated it; and, at the same time, pushed the panel. It opened on hinges, like an ordinary door, disclosing a room in which were arms of all sorts, the whole more or less old fashioned, and useless against disciplined troops, but that might be efficacious against a Cairo mob. At any rate, the matchlocks would make a noise, and firing blank cartridges often answers with a crowd. So St. Just and his trooper picked up a dozen of the firearms and as much ammunition as they could carry, the young girl helping them; then they rejoined the other men, who were gathered in the courtyard at the foot of the staircase that led to the women's apartments.

Quickly the matchlocks were distributed and loaded. But, before St. Just had decided how to post his men, a loud hammering at the entrance and the trampling of many feet and the sound of voices were heard. One louder than the rest shouted out in Arabic, "Open, open, ye dogs of Christians."

Then Halima trembled and panted in faltering tones, "It is Yusuf. Oh! save me from him. Kill me rather than let me fall into his hands."

And St. Just answered. "Trust me, Yusuf shall not have you, while I live. Keep close behind me." Then he called out to his men, "All follow me up the staircase!" and he led the way with Halima. Then he posted four men at the top of the staircase, two in front who were to lie down, and two behind, to stand up or kneel as occasion served. The staircase was not broad enough to allow more than two persons to ascend abreast; there was a fair prospect, therefore, that the four men could defend it.

These men placed, St. Just, with Halima and his three remaining troopers, betook themselves to a room with windows or embrasures that commanded the courtyard approach to the foot of the staircase. At these embrasures they took their stand, and awaited, stern and indomitable, the imminent attack.

Meanwhile the din without increased; the shouts and yells and menaces against the hated foreigners grew louder; the blows thundered upon the iron-studded door faster and harder. No door could long withstand such violence, and every moment St. Just felt that it must give way. At last, with a loud crash, it fell, and the crowd of Arabs came pouring into the courtyard.

"Aim low and fire," came the order from St. Just. He fired himself, and the three troopers did the same. Two men in the crowd dropped, and, with a howl of rage, the rest dashed across the yard and made for the staircase. When the first of them came in sight, the four men at the top fired, and several of the attacking party fell.

"Load and fire as fast as you can," said St. Just to the men in the room; "and show as little as possible of your bodies."

Before the beginning of the fight the French troopers had thrown aside their Arab draperies, finding they impeded their movements; so that, if ever their assailants had had any doubt about their nationality, it was now removed.

Both the men on the stairs and those in the room were now using their guns with fatal effect upon the densely packed crowd below, and many a bullet found its billet. But the besieged were not having it wholly their own way, for, though the attacking party recoiled time after time before the deadly fire at close quarters, they continually again pressed forward. They, also, were not without firearms, which they were using to some purpose, for every now and then a bullet crashed into the room and buried itself either in the wall, or in some article of furniture. Presently one of St. Just's men gave a cry and dropped, badly wounded. But there was no time to attend to him. All that happened was that Halima stepped forward and took his weapon and his place, loading and firing like the others.

Meanwhile the men at the head of the staircase were faring badly. Already two of them had been rendered hors de combat; and St. Just, rushing out of the room to learn how matters were progressing, arrived just in time to see a third man fall with a thud at his feet, stone dead.

There was a loud yell, then a rush up the staircase, and, the next moment, St. Just and the trooper at his side found themselves hacking and hewing and stabbing at the sea of swarthy faces in front of them. But they made no impression on the crowd, spite of those who kept falling beneath their blows. On and on the rabble came, pressed forwards by them who were behind. Then St. Just shouted out for those who were in the room to come to his help; but his words were lost in the din of the yelling Arabs. Fighting and retiring inch by inch, he, and the brave fellow at his side gradually regained the room in which were Halima and the others. The place was filled with smoke and sulphurous fumes, and almost stifling, and the many bullets that had entered it had made havoc of the furniture and woodwork.

The moment St. Just regained the room, his eyes sought Halima. She was standing at the window firing at the surging mass below. Calling to the two men with her to take his place and hold back the crowd so long as they were able, he ran swiftly to the girl. Each looked in the other's face, and both knew that their efforts to drive back the crowd were vain. Unless there was some way of escape, their doom was sealed. From the look of stern resolve she wore, and the way she clutched the dagger in her hand, St. Just knew that she would keep her word, and that, in securing her, the victors would capture but a corpse.

Meanwhile the three men at the door were fighting hard; but what could three men do, opposed by forty? With aching arms and parched mouths, and panting breasts, they slashed and stabbed, and parried, retiring step by step, the savage Arabs ever pressing forward, and by sheer weight forcing the three men back upon St. Just, who now once more joined in the fray.

A moment more, and the soldier on his right fell to the ground with a spear point through his heart. Instantly St. Just brought down his sword upon the spearman's head, and the Arab joined the Frenchman he had slain.

Enraged at seeing their comrade fall, and thirsting for revenge, St. Just's two last men hurled themselves upon the mob, and, for a moment, made it waver.

Then, feeling that their final moment had arrived, St. Just placed himself before the girl, prepared for the last deadly rush that would end the life of both. But, for all that he knew that resistance would avail them nothing, that their case was hopeless, so strongly implanted in the human heart is the love of life, that he did not stand passively awaiting death, but savagely fought on, desperation urging him to superhuman efforts in one last supreme struggle for life.

Then, just when he had received a spear thrust through the left arm and all seemed lost, suddenly, with the swiftness of a flash of lightning, despair gave way to hope. A measured tramp was heard along the narrow street; then the inspiring sound of a French bugle call. Help was at hand, if he could but hold out a few moments longer! The knowledge lent him strength and inspired him to fresh efforts. Once more he threw himself upon his foes. But his ardor this time was scarcely needed, for the Arabs also had heard the sounds, and knew what they portended. Their enemy would soon be upon them. They wavered, then fell back before his whirling sword; the next moment they had turned and were rushing pell mell out of the room and down the staircase, tumbling over each other in their hurry.

But, warned by the approaching march of men, instead of making for the main entrance, on reaching the foot of the staircase, they wheeled right and left and made their escape by doors and windows at the back.

During this stampede, the Arab girl had not been idle. She, too, had heard the marching and the bugle, and knew that, if she could but gain the French, her life and honor were secure. She saw that the courtyard was deserted--for all the Arabs, who were not in the room, were crowded on or about the staircase--also that the main entrance to the house was clear.

In a moment her resolve was taken, and, while St. Just was still brandishing his sword to keep his foes at bay, she made her way carefully through the window, and lowered herself on to a protruding gargoyle, about four feet below and somewhat to the side of it. Steadying herself for a moment, she stooped, or, rather, squatted down, until she touched the gargoyle. From this point to the top of the colonnade was scarcely ten feet. Clinging firmly to the gargoyle, she let her body down, until it swung at full length from her hold. Then she dropped. The fall shook her somewhat, but, almost immediately, she recovered herself and ran along the colonnade, until she gained a water pipe. To slide down this and reach the ground in safety was but a second's work. Then, like a young antelope, she sped across the courtyard, and over the large studded door, which had been torn from its hinges and lay athwart her path: and out into the narrow street.

Onward she rushed with the cry, "A moi! a moi! mes enfants! Au secours; pour la France!" Nor did she pause until she found herself panting and breathless in the arms of a French officer. But, withdrawing herself immediately, she hurriedly explained St. Just's great peril.

At this, scarcely waiting for orders, the soldiers rushed past her through the house and across the courtyard. There they found St. Just covered with blood and black with powder, but, save for the spear thrust through his arm, and sundry bruises, not much the worse for what he had undergone. But he was panting for breath, and resting on his sword, and could not speak. With a cheer, the soldiers ran to him, and, two of them supporting him, one on each side, they got him down the staircase, then carried him across the quadrangle, and set him down before the officer in command of the detachment, which General Buonaparte had that moment joined.

To account for the arrival of his fellow soldiers, so opportunely for St. Just, it needs but to be stated that Buonaparte had made his attack at dawn upon the city, as he had intended. The sheiks had made but a poor defence of the Citadel and had quickly agreed to its surrender. The troops were on their way to take possession of it, when the Arab girl ran out and told what was occurring in the house.

So soon as he had breath enough, St. Just gave his account of all that had occurred from the time of his pursuit of Mourad Bey. Buonaparte's dark eyes flashed unpleasantly, at times, but he spoke no word until the young officer had concluded his report; then he turned to a man at his side, over whose head the knife of the assassin was already hovering, and in a few weeks would fatally descend; and said something in an undertone. General Kleber, for it was he, replied inaudibly to those about them, and shook his head.

Then Buonaparte addressed St. Just and, pinching his ear, he said, "Be careful, be careful. France is watching you, and has need of you."

The words seemed cold and formal--almost stern; but coming from this little man with the piercing eyes, to the young officer, they sounded like unmerited praise.

Continuing, Buonaparte turned to a captain and said,

"Guard the house and look well to the lady also." The next instant he rode away, followed by all, but a captain's guard, to receive the homage due to a conqueror.

Then St. Just fell fainting to the ground and was carried into the house in which he had so bravely fought, and where he was to lie upon a bed of sickness and be tended by a beautiful woman who was already more than half in love with him.

*CHAPTER VIII.*

For three weeks St. Just lay in bed in the house of Halima's father, for the greater part of the time unconscious; for--what with his wound and bruises, the excitement he had undergone and the great heat--on the day after the attack on the house, he fell into a raging fever. Once General Buonaparte came to see him, but the young officer did not know him.

During all this time Halima helped to nurse him, and, so true is it that we acquire affection for the objects of our care, each day she felt herself more drawn towards him.

At last his mind came back to him, and he began to gain strength fast; so much so, that he realized, with great dejection, that, in a few days, he would have to return to his duties, and bid farewell to the Arab girl who had wound herself about his heart. Now, in the game of love there is often much finesse and subterfuge. He would have given anything, to know Halima's sentiments towards himself, but it so happened, that in proportion as St. Just gained consciousness and strength, so did she withdraw herself from his society, until at last she would spend but a few minutes of each day in his company, and then only in the presence of another person. Had he known how assiduously she had attended him during his term of insensibility, his mind would have been at rest, for the knowledge would have given him the information he desired, and he would have declared the love that was consuming him. As it was, fearing to offend her by his precipitancy, he said nothing, when he left her, except to thank her for the shelter and attention she had given him.

Halima blushed and hung her head, and, though longing for him to take her in his arms, with her Eastern bringing up, was too shy to give him an inkling of her feelings; and so they parted, each outwardly calm, but with a devouring flame within.

His duties, when he returned to them, he found irksome, for thought of her, though they were really light--nothing beyond an hour's drill daily with his regiment.

In this way two months passed, but more stirring times were coming; this was the calm that heralded the storm. The conquered citizens of Cairo, though, to all appearance, acquiescing with cheerfulness and content in the new order of things, were in reality planning a revolt, and the knowledge of it was brought to St. Just's ears in this way.

At five o'clock in the morning of the 21st of October, his servant aroused him to say that a messenger from the "Lady Halima" wished to see him. St. Just dressed with all speed, and Halima's messenger was introduced. He was the bearer of a letter from her to say that she was assured on authority, on which she could implicitly rely, that the citizens had for some time been quietly arming themselves, and that they were at that very moment silently massing themselves throughout the city, and would, at a certain signal, rise simultaneously in the different quarters, and massacre the French.

This news was as startling as it was alarming, and St. Just instantly had the reveille sounded and ordered his squadron to horse; then hurried towards the citadel. But, meantime, the insurrection had begun, and General Buonaparte, at the first alarm, had also galloped thither, attended by three Guides. But he was ahead of the young officer, so that when, a few minutes later, the latter came on the scene, he found Buonaparte surrounded by a mob of Arabs, his escort killed, his horse shot under him, and himself in imminent peril of his life.

Just in the nick of time St. Just and his troop dashed forward, and by the impetuosity of their onslaught, broke through the crowd, forced them back, and soon cleared a space around their General. But the Arabs were only checked, not broken, and, seeing the small number of their assailants, they prepared to renew the attack; and, had their courage but equalled their numerical advantage, they must have annihilated the Frenchmen.

From the French point of view, discretion was the better part of valor, and St. Just saw the means of putting that better part into execution; for it so happened that, once more, he was close to the Lady Halima's abode. To suggest to Buonaparte that they should take refuge there, to mount the General on one of his trooper's horses, and to gallop at full speed through the gateway of the house was the work but of a few seconds. Before the astonished Arabs had divined their object, the whole squadron had passed through, and the entrance to the courtyard had been barred.

St. Just's heart beat high at the thought that, for the second time, it seemed likely he would have to defend the house of his lady love; but, on this occasion, with the added responsibility for the safety of his Commander's person.

To set against this, however, were the circumstances that they were in sufficient numbers (fifty) to hold the place, with the protection of the walls afforded, for a considerable time, and were well-armed; not, as on the previous occasion, with obsolete and rusty weapons.

But, fortunately, the valor and endurance of the party were not put to the test; for the arrangements for defence had scarcely been completed, when the march of infantry was heard approaching at the double. A French regiment was passing the end of the narrow street on its way to the citadel, news having been received that most of the rioters were assembled there.

At the sound of their footsteps, some of St. Just's troopers leaned out of the windows and shouted for help. At once the men were halted, then wheeled round and up the street. The effect was magical! with shouts and cries of terror, the crowd of Arabs assembled before the Lady Halima's house, without making the slightest show of fight, took to their heels and ran helter-skelter up the street and out at the end, some of the French soldiers chasing them to that point. Then the door of the house was opened, and one of the troopers informed the commanding officer the meaning of their presence there, and that General Buonaparte was with them. At this unlooked for news, the officer said he would see the General and take his orders.

Now, though when the attack was made on him, Buonaparte was on his way to the citadel, at the sight of the Lady Halima he--always an admirer of the other sex--was so captivated by her beauty, that he gladly accepted her invitation to remain for breakfast. So, when the Colonel of the infantry regiment was introduced to him, instead of taking advantage of his escort to continue his journey to the citadel, he contented himself with giving the officer certain orders, among which was that he was to keep open communications between the house in which they were, and the citadel; and to let him know if his presence should be urgently required. Failing any such message, he, Buonaparte, would be at the citadel in two hours time.

Then he dismissed the Colonel and he and St. Just sat down to breakfast with the Lady Halima in the women's apartment. It brought to St. Just the remembrance of that first repast he had taken with her in that very room, nearly three months before, and in somewhat similar circumstances. Now, as then, there were sounds of firing in the distance, and the tramp of feet and the rattle of arms awoke the echoes of the court-yard below. But in the room itself how different was the state of things. She had been his sole companion on that memorable morning, and he had been the object of her assiduous courtesy; now, in the presence of this all-conquering young General, he was a sort of "quantite negligeable." As before, the sun-light fell with full effect upon her lovely face, now filled with animation, her eyes sparkling with delight, the while she gayly chatted with the "man of destiny" who was seated upon the divan facing her. Buonaparte, for once, had cast off the iron mask of coldness and impenetrability he usually wore, and was basking in the sunshine of her smiles. For the time the cares of his position had been thrust aside, and, as he himself expressed it, he was amusing himself while Cairo was in revolt, like Nero fiddling while Rome was burning.

His chatter was not, however, altogether frivolous; occasionally he would be serious. For instance, speaking of the city and his plans he said, "I must confess that to-day's disturbance has surprised me. And I had thought the future would be so easy. Alas! which one of us knows the future?"

The girl, who had been listening intently, here interrupted with a laugh. "You would know your future? That is told easily enough. Remember I have been brought up in the East and have been taught to forecast events by people who have forgotten more than you of the West have ever heard of. I could convince you."

So saying, she clapped her hands and, before Buonaparte could object, if indeed he had wished to do so, had said something to her slave in Arabic, that resulted in the removal of the breakfast table and the production of a large earthenware bowl filled apparently with water, for she invited both men to taste it. One thing they noticed, and it was this; that, though the bowl was shallow and the sunlight shone around on the table on which it stood, it did not seem to shine upon the water, which looked black as ink.