CHAPTER X

A BRITISH SHELL

The caravan jostled its way through the crowded streets of Trebizond towards the landing-place. The port was in a state of exceeding liveliness. Ships were loading and unloading in the harbour; caravans were starting for the interior; and throngs of people of various nationalities made kaleidoscopic patterns as they moved about in dresses of every hue, the Persians conspicuous by their high black caps and long green robes reaching to the ankles.

Kopri's mule train was directed towards a small coasting steamer, lying alongside the quay, in which the contractor was a part owner. She had arrived the previous day with arms and ammunition from Constantinople, and was to leave again that night on her return voyage, which would be interrupted only by a call at Sinope to take in coal. Large crates of her recently unshipped cargo lay on the quay, awaiting transport, and though most of them were covered with tarpaulins, Frank noticed that many bore German marks. Having given orders for the stowment of his cargo, Kopri went to an inn overlooking the bay to pick up what news was bruited. He left Joseph in charge, and recommended that Frank should go on board, ostensibly as shipping clerk, so as to be out of harm's way. The perishable merchandise was quickly stowed away below; the bales of carpets strewed the deck.

When the contractor returned some hours later, he said that Trebizond was greatly excited by a report that British and French warships had begun to bombard the forts at the entrance of the Dardanelles. It was said, too, that Russian torpedo boats had been seen outside the harbour, and the harbour-master had refused to allow the vessel to leave that night. Frank wondered whether he had escaped from the hands of Turkish officers only to fall a victim to a Russian gun. He remained on board all night, looking forward with more interest than uneasiness to what next day might bring forth.

Early in the morning the skipper was about to cast off when a messenger came up from the military authorities ordering the vessel to await the arrival of an important passenger. Kopri was irked by the delay, and had worked himself up into a state of nervous agitation when, after the lapse of nearly two hours, the passenger arrived. And then his nervousness almost betrayed him: the passenger was Hermann Wonckhaus. He had discarded his crutch, but walked stiffly over the gangway, and at once demanded that the captain's cabin should be given him. Frank was standing by the forecastle when the German came on board, and he instantly turned his back on him. He felt that his disguise was not so complete as that Wonckhaus would not recognise him, and wished that he had aged his appearance by the addition of a beard. When the steamer put out to sea, he was careful to keep out of the German's sight, which was the less difficult because they were naturally in different parts of the vessel, and under the brisk north wind the sea was sufficiently choppy to keep Wonckhaus in his cabin, prostrate with sickness. He did not reappear until they had left Sinope with their cargo of coal, and then he urged the skipper to hug the shore as closely as possible and to make all speed for Constantinople: seasickness and the dread of a Russian attack had made him nervous. The breeze had moderated, and Frank from a safe coign of vantage watched Wonckhaus pacing the deck in conversation with Kopri. Presently the German sat down to rest on one of the bales of carpet, and Frank's heart leapt to his mouth: the bale thus unwittingly chosen for a seat was Mirza Aga's rug. Kopri moved away to speak to the skipper, and Wonckhaus, left alone, began by force of commercial habit to peer at the bales by which he was surrounded. He lifted the covering of one at his right hand, and was stooping to examine the one on which he was sitting, when Joseph, hovering near, suddenly gave a shout and pointed excitedly seaward. Wonckhaus sprang up and went to the side, with the skipper, Kopri, and some of the crew.

"A dark speck on the skyline," cried Joseph, with outstretched finger.

The group peered anxiously across the watery expanse; the skipper raised his telescope.

"Where? Where?" cried Wonckhaus, hastily unstrapping his field-glasses.

Joseph only pointed. Nothing could be seen. They continued to gaze for some minutes, and then the skipper declared that Joseph must have been mistaken. The false alarm had effectually diverted Wonckhaus's attention from the carpets. He remained at the side, sweeping the horizon every now and then with his glasses, and he even ordered his meals to be brought him on deck, lest if he went below the dreaded warships should heave in sight. Joseph's quick wit had once more served his master well.

It was a sunny afternoon when the vessel steamed between the well-wooded shores of the entrance to the Bosporus. To Frank the scene was too familiar to hold any fresh charm; but his interest was quickened when he noticed the long low shapes of the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ at anchor in the strait. There were signs of repairing work proceeding on the former. Wonckhaus, who had now recovered his courage, talked to Kopri about the vessels with swelling pride, while Joseph superintended the rolling of the carpets to the side in preparation for unloading. Frank was not quite easy in mind until Wonckhaus had crossed the gangway and disappeared among the crowd on the quay.

The cargo was unloaded, Kopri undertaking to convey the precious carpet to a place of security. Frank remained on board until the contractor should return with information that might guide his future course. That information was not reassuring. The British residents who had not been able to get away from Constantinople in November were more or less under arrest. For the present Frank must remain an Armenian. And since Kopri had been ordered, instead of returning to Trebizond, to take on some heavy crates and proceed at once to Panderma and Gallipoli, it seemed better that he should remain on the vessel until she reached the latter place, and then seek an opportunity of getting into Greece or Bulgaria.

The new cargo was brought on board without delay. It consisted of heavy cases, which Kopri surmised to contain ammunition, and quantities of food stuffs for Gallipoli, whither troops were being despatched in all haste both by land and sea. Several German and Turkish officers came aboard when the cargo had been stowed, and Frank was annoyed and somewhat alarmed to see that Wonckhaus was among them. It was irksome to him to be continually on the watch, dodging the German.

The vessel ran down the Sea of Marmora to Panderma, the terminus of the Smyrna railway, where some of the officers disembarked with the heavy cases. Frank was on deck when these were swung out of the hold. As one of them was in mid-air the tackle broke, and the case fell heavily on to the quay, striking its edge. In spite of the iron bands that held it together it broke open, and one of the Turkish officers ordered Frank among others standing by to run over and try to put it together. The break disclosed the top of the periscope of a submarine. Frank had time to notice the label of the case: it was addressed "Adramyti." But he saw no more, for a German captain rushed up in a rage, drove off the crowd that was gathering, peremptorily ordered the crew to return to the ship, and hurled volleys of abuse at the men in charge of the crane.

The vessel cast off the same evening and arrived at Gallipoli soon after dawn. It had hardly come to its moorings when the air vibrated with a heavy boom. A big gun had started work far away. Every half-minute, as it seemed, during the unloading of the vessel, the booming sound was repeated, and Frank thrilled with excitement at the bombardment neither the source nor the effects of which he was able to see.

When the cargo had been removed, he went on shore with Joseph, and wandered about the beach, discussing the past and the future. It was now noon, the sun was bright, and Frank was debating whether to go for a swim in spite of the cold breeze when a slight buzzing in the air caused him to look up. For some minutes he saw nothing in the cloudless sky, though the sound increased; but presently he caught sight of a speck far aloft, moving in a line that would soon bring it straight overhead.

It enlarged, soaring on like some strange bird.

"One of our aeroplanes," said Frank.

"Where shall we run?" asked Joseph, alarmed.

"We had better not run at all. It may be only scouting, not out for dropping bombs: and if it does drop a bomb, it will be on the wharves. We are safer here on the open beach."

"But he might aim at the wharves and hit us," Joseph protested.

"I think better of our men," replied Frank with a smile; "but to please you, we'll get away into that pocket in the cliffs yonder."

They hastened across the beach to the left. At the same moment the aeroplane slightly changed its course and seemed to be following them. Joseph in a panic darted to the right. Frank stood still, watching the droning machine with a curious interest devoid of fear. It passed overhead, at the rate of an express train. Joseph was moving back slowly when a long wail came down the sky. Next moment there was a crash. Joseph flung himself face downward on the sand. Frank had jumped a little, but his gaze had passed downward from the aeroplane to the wharf. A huge column of smoke, dust, splinters of wood had risen just at the end of the landing-place. Men were running about in all directions, horses and mules were galloping, maddened oxen were lumbering away with heavy-laden wagons; and the humming bird soared on serenely.

When the agitation was stilled and order restored, Kopri beckoned up the two young men.

"I have now a little leisure, effendim," he said to Frank. "I propose to take you to the house of a good friend of mine, on the cliff yonder overlooking the plain. He is a man of my race, and with him you may dwell in safety until such time as your future course is made clear."

He led the way up through the pleasant little town. The streets were thronged with Turkish soldiers in ill-fitting uniforms. The town was the base of the army operating farther down the peninsula, and accommodated the headquarters staff. Among the numerous officers Frank noticed several Germans. From the heights he had a good view of the bay, in which lay a dozen transports, while caiques, with cases of ammunition bulging over their high sides, were passing to and fro between the European and the Asiatic shores.

Kopri halted at a little house at almost the highest point of the town. On being admitted, he was met by a patriarchal Armenian named Benidin, a merchant of standing, to whom he introduced Frank under his own name. The old man was greatly perturbed on learning that his visitor was an Englishman.

"My friend," he said to Kopri, "it is not well, that which you have done. The town is not safe, even for me. Already I have sent my family away; at any moment I may have to flee for my life, and if it is discovered that an Englishman lodges with me, my days are numbered. The town swarms with spies. Every man is spying on his neighbour. It will be far better for your friend, and for me also, if he returns in your vessel to Constantinople, and makes his way thence to the Bulgarian frontier."

The old man's distress was so patent that Frank at once assented to his suggestion.

"It is not fair to involve you in my troubles," he said. "I will leave at once."

"It will be two or three days before I can take you back," said Kopri. "I am ordered to go on to Chanak with ammunition for the forts. Benidin will perhaps give you shelter until I return."

"I will do so much for you, Kopri, in the name of our old friendship," said the merchant after some hesitation. "If the English gentleman will remain strictly within doors, he shall be my honoured guest. That must be the firm condition. And I pray that your return be speedy, Kopri, for I know not that I shall be safe even for two days. There came yesterday from Stamboul a large reinforcement of Kurds, who being hillmen will be useful to the army in the heights. You know them, my friend. At any moment the blood passion may burst forth; they may begin to hunt for men of our unhappy race. Then I must flee, and I dare not take the Englishman with me. He will be left to his own devices."

"I go to-night," said Kopri, "and in two days I will return. It is but a little while, and the Germans here will keep the Kurds in order."

"Alas! I have no great confidence in them," said Benidin. "Their emperor has never stayed the massacres of our people, and though his officers are stern with the Turks for their own ends, they will, I fear, show no sympathy for us. Then have I the Englishman's promise?"

Much against the grain, yet unable to contest the wisdom of the old man's condition, Frank gave his word not to leave the house until Joseph returned to take him on board. Kopri and his son remained with Benidin until the evening, then went down to the harbour.

Next day Frank mooned about, finding nothing to occupy him, restive under this new confinement, and uncomfortable because of his host's nervousness. The old man started at every sound, and twisted his hands in panic fright if Frank approached the window. There were sounds of great activity in the bay--the snorting of tugs, the clang of donkey engines, and the rattle of chains, reverberated in a hundred echoes from the hills. Frank longed to see what was going on; but there was nothing for it but to be patient; after all, another day would see his release.

On the following morning, just after the weird notes of a Turkish trumpet had announced the dawn, there came the rumble of distant guns, which continued like a remote prolonged thunderstorm for some hours. In the afternoon, when Frank was sitting with Benidin in an upper room, they were startled by a tremendous boom close at hand.

"A shell from a big gun," cried Frank, springing up.

"Keep away from the window," the Armenian pleaded. "I do not fear your English shells as much as I fear the Turks. I will go out and see what is happening."

Frank was left to himself. He wondered whether an aeroplane had dropped another bomb on the harbour. The fact was that the British fleet had begun to bombard the town by indirect fire from the Gulf of Saros. When Benidin descended into the town, he found the people fleeing in all directions. Many were hurrying to the caves which cut into the cliffs. The largest of these had already been appropriated by the headquarters staff.

A few minutes after Benidin had left the house, a second bang shook the place, shattering the glass. Frank's heart beat fast as he looked out of the window: there was no danger at this moment that any one would notice him. Towards the harbour he saw a geyser of black smoke spreading its top in the air. Then he was conscious of a rushing humming sound coming towards him. He looked up with curiosity. Nothing could be seen. Suddenly there was a tremendous crash on the roof of the house. The place collapsed like a house of cards, and Frank, in the first conscious second of his fall, heard an ear-splitting explosion, accompanied by a blinding flash, and felt sharp blows upon every part of his body. Then he knew no more.