Mynheer Joe. A semi-humorous story of love and adventure. Illustrated

Front matter

MYNHEER JOE y. ANGLO-AMERICAN LIBRARY OF FICTION. Paper Covers, is. Cloth, is. 6d THE SPANISH TREASURE- A Story of Love and the Love of Gold. By Isabella Castelar. THE KING OF HONEY ISLAND : An Historical Romance of the Creole Coast. By Maurice Thompson. MYNHEER JOE: A Semi-Humorous Story of Love and Adventure. By St. George Rathborne. OTHERS TO FOLLOW. MYNUElilt JOlt NARRATES HOW GORDON HELD KHARTOOM. — See Cllll)lter V Mynheer Joe. A SEMI-HUMOROUS STORY OF LOVE AND ADVENTURE, By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE. HLXTSTBATED. LONDON : JAMES HENDERSON, RED LION HOUSE, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C NEW YORK : ROBERT BONNER'S SONS. 1893- LONDON : JAMES HENDERSON, RED LION HOUSE, FLEET STREET, E.C. {.Copyright, 1893.] CONTENTS.

Book I. The Messenger From Khartoom

Chapter Fa06 I. At Shepherd's, on the Square called Esbehiyeh... 7 II. The Man who Saw Brave Gordon Fall ... 20 III. The Tragedy of the Nile 32 IV. "I know him as Mynheer Joe" ... ... 45 V. " If you must sight, take a man of your size!" 58 VI. The Football of Fortune 7* VII. News from Over the Ocean ... ... ... 83 VIII. Sandy o(5

Book II. The Duel Under The Palms

IX. " Mynheer Joe, awake — Danger!" 109 X. Playing Ten-pins with a Human Ball ... 121 XI. Coming Events Cast a Shadow B< ,.. CONTENTS. Chapter Page XII. 'With Swords — An Hour After Sunrise!" 146 XIII. The Mission of the Dahabeah 160 XIV. A Little Affair Among the Mokkatam Hills 172 XV. The Baron is Satisfied ... ... ... ... 182 XVI. The Road to India 19-'

Book III

A MEETING IN BOMBAY. XVII. Trouble on the Bhendy Bazar Road 205 XVIII. Street Life Among the Hindoos 219 XIX. The Fatal Thirteen 233 XX. Even the Thugs Obey His Nod 245 XXI. The Baron is Booked for Valparaiso 254 XXII. Captain Ben, of the Good Ship " Avalanche " 264 XXIII. The Note that Downed the Russian 272 XXIV. " Bon voyage, Mynheer Joe!" BOOK ONE. THE MESSENGER FROM KHARTOOM.

Chapter I. At Shepherd's, On The Square Called Esbe- Hiyeh

" Backsheesh !" hoarsely whispered a stout, red laced traveller, bending over a small, nervous man, who, seated on the piazza in front of the well-known Shepherd's Hotel in Cairo, Egypt, dashes off page after page of lead-pencil work, aided by the lights that illumine the grand plaza. The latter individual never raises his eyes, but with a groan and a mechanical movement of the arm draws a niaster from his pocket and hr>M<= fi ■■which miserable coin is gravely taken by the man in the plaid suit and travelling helmet-hat. He does not move away, but stands there at the elbow of the scribe, waiting for that. interminable scribbling to be done, and meanwhile watching the lively scene upon the great square of Esbehiyeh. It is certainly a sight good for foreign eyes, and one that will never be forgotten.

Although the month is February, a delicious, balmy atmosphere hangs over the old city on the Nile. Music throbs upon the air, and, judging from the gay scenes tobe met with after night closes in, it would be hard to believe the Mohammedan fast corresponding to our Lent is in progress. The Koran, however, only demands observance of strict rules from sunrise to sunset, so that in all oriental countries the devout worshipers make night a period of feasting. Just at the present period, many lanterns and flam beaux and lamps illumine the grand square, from which arise discordant sounds, a perfect babel of confusion. Here, under a cluster of palms, a snake charmer handles his cobras with apparent impunity, boxing their heads and causing them to do all manner of strange things. Near by are dragomans, or guides, haggling with owners of donkeys, who, in turn, scold or cuff the boys in charge of the little beasts.

Close by are fakirs, pretending to sell wonderful things for a trifle; mountebanks, dealers in turbans, fezes, relics and handkerchiefs, and a general con glomeration of idle, curious strollers. The lights disclose a picture that can probably be looked upon in no other city save Damascus. Here mingle Turks, with their red fez and national dress ; Arabs, in white bournous and turban ; native fellahin, or Egyptians, wearing blue gowns and the ever lasting brown skull-cap ; Jews, with long beards and sober garments ; Nubians, Persians, Greeks and a sprinkling of loreigners. The red coats of British soldiers give way pretty much to the sensible white that is worn in all hot countries; still there is enough to lend color to the kaleidoscopic picture. The stout man sees all this without emotion ; he seldom if ever, allows himself to be so deeply interested in anything as to forget himself.

Stand ing just back of the tilted chair of the smaller man, who writes sheet after sheet with railroad rapidity, he puffs away at his cigar and calmly waits for the time to come when his friend will have exhausted the subject or blunted all his pencils. Everything comes to the one who has patience, and this is the most prominent trait in the character of the stout tourist. " Eureka ! I have done it ! Glowing description ! Burning rhetoric ! Do 3*011 proud, my boy! Now I 'd give a piaster to run across Grimes." He has hardly spoken these words half aloud, when the man with the florid face and heavy hand deliberately raps him on the shoulder. " Pay your debts, young man. I claim the reward by virtue of discovery. Here's one miserable Turkish coin you've shoved on me. French money is preferred," he says,, solemnly.

" Oh ! It was you who groaned ' Backsheesh !' in my ear, was it? I 've heard little else since I struck Egypt. It 's a howling paradise of beggars. I go to bed with a bag of piasters — give 'em out in my sleep, I assure you, Grimes." Sandy Barlow is the correspondent of a great daily journal in the United States, and is never known to be in anything but a hurry. In piping times of peace he finds material to employ hispencil in various foreign countries, and his letters have been considered fine reading on account of their piquancy and crisp style, characteristic of everything the man does. Those who know Sandy best have discovered that the war correspondent has a warm heart, and will readily go out of his way to help one whom he counts a friend. This stout gentleman whom he calls Grimes is — so rumor says — the wealthy owner of several mines in Colorado, about which he occa sionally speaks.

He keeps his own counsel, how ever, and any one who is a good judge of physiog nomy would have little difficulty in reading on his resolute face all the signs that go to make up a de termined character. "Are you at liberty, Barlow ? If so, I 'd like to have a little talk," remarks the silver king. "Great Cæsar! Why didn't you say so before? Singular man ! Didn't want to interrupt the flow of genius, eh? But I'd drop even my pencil to oblige you." "There was no great need of haste. You were the first one I thought of when old Tanner brought me the news. You know him ?" " Like a book! Gruff old party ; lovely daughter, Molly. Goon! What was his news ? Is England aroused at last to the emergency ?" "Just the contrary. Listen to what I say: Old Tanner tells me his dahabeah, or house-boat, has just come down the river; they left it some two hundred miles above and hastened on by railroad to Cairo.

This evening it arrived, and the reis, or captain, called upon him at the hotel here with certain news that has given Tanner some uneasiness. He was puzzled to know what use to make of it," and, seeing me, put the whole case in my hands. I have promised to go down to the boat and interview the man who is now asleep on board — a man they picked up afloat on the river far above — and who they imagine is some sort of messenger sent down from Khartoom by General Gordon." Sandy Barlow is out of his chair like a shot, all eagerness and animation. " Come on !" he exclaimed. " I 'm in this game. Great Cæsar ! If I can get the only authentic account of that event ! What keeps you, man ?" " I'm not ready to go yet. Don't make a scene, Sandy, and, above all, whisper not a word of the truth. The False Prophet has many friends in Cairo who would like nothing better than a chance at this person who comes from the south, with scimiter or yataghan.

Sit down again while we talk it over." Sandy has hard work subduing his intense eagerness to discover the truth, but he is equal to great emergencies, and finally sinks back in his chair. As for Mr. Grimes, the silver king, he straddles a rat tan seat and rests his arms across the back in the most careless manner imaginable. "What did the old orator seem to think of his men picking up a passenger?" asks Sandy. i "He was wrathy at first, until he found the man was a Frank, or foreigner. That made it all right. He hates these swarthy natives— Turks, fellah and Arab." "Yes, I have heard him whisper gentle words about them in his own peculiar way. Lovely soft voice the Honorable Demosthenes has. Reminds me of a steam foghorn." " Hush ! Here comes his daughter !" " Miss Molly, for all the world !" mutters the correspondent between his teeth.

A vision in white floats up to where they are seated, and both men spring to their feet. This American girl is a fair, fresh picture — a healthy daughter of the land across the sea.* She is not actually beautiful, but there is a charm about face and manner that draws hosts of friends to her side. Molly Tanner is a taking girl, vivacious, quick, tender-hearted — true. You can read her constancy in the clear, frank, fearless gray eyes. Lucky the man who wins her heart. It will be for all time. " Oh, Mr. Grimes, I have been looking for you everywhere ! I feared you had gone !" exclaims the voung lady, laying a white hand, which shows some traces of sunburn, on the arm of the mining king. " Fortune favors me, Miss Molly. In what way can I do you a service?" " You see, the governor has just been telling me all about that poor man on board our boat, and I feel so sorry !

I would like to know whether there is anything I can do for him." Some people might be shocked to hear Molly Tanner thus designate her parent, but the word is uttered with such tenderness that the same persons would secretly listen in the hope of hearing it again. Mr. Grimes and the correspondent exchange glances, and then smile. " Really, until we have seen the part}*, we cannot exactly say," begins the former. '■ That 's just it ! Why not allow me to accompany you to the boat ?" The girl speaks eagerly, as though she hns quite set her heart upon it. " Your father would not consent." " Leave that to me— I can manage him ! " And I reckon you're about the only one who can, Miss Molly. Outside of that I don't believe it would be safe. You see, to reach the river where the boat is tied up, we have to pass through one of the worst quarters of the city called Musr, and with a lady in our company, there might be trouble.

No, I am sorry to refuse, but I must positively decline to accept the responsibility." Molly Tanner does not pout, but laughs, proving that while the old governor has done his best to spoil her, he has not yet succeeded. "Very well, I shall not insist, Mr. Grimes; but when you return, promise to let me know how the young German pilgrim is," she says. "Who said he is German; your father did not say anything of that sort to me?" declares the stout silver king, in some surprise. " Perhaps I only judged it from his name. You know the Germans and Italians are working down along the East Coast." MYNnEER JOE. " Even his name the governor neglected to state. What might it be, Miss Molly ?" asked Grimes. " I am sure he said Mynheer Joe." "' Mynheer Joe !' " gasps Sandy Barlow. " Mynheer Joe !" drops from the usually unde monstrative silver king, now greatly excited.

"Why, gentlemen, what is the matter? You seem to be astonished ?" says Molly, surveying first one and then the other in wonder. "'Astonished?' I 'm dumfounded — knocked all in a heap — flabbergasted ! To think that I should meet my dear Joe again in this way !" bursts out the impetuous correspondent. " And, on my part, after all, I 'm not surprised. It 's just what I might have expected, knowing what I do of the man. Yes, Mynheer Joe has been with Gordon at Khartoom ; he was last heard of there. Now we shall see what news he brings. I am ready if you are, Mr. Barlow ?" Sandy smiles as he remembers that this man, now all eagerness to depart, was in no hurry before, but took things in a cool manner, as though the world was not made in a day, and Obed Grimes had no need of haste. Circumstances alter cases, and the mere mention of a name has put new energy in Mr. Grimes.

Nor is the war correspondent less eager to be on the way. He has received something of a shock upon hearing Molly speak that name. Memories of the past are recalled, which take him to other scenes. "You will pardon us for leaving you?" says the polite Mr. Grimes to the young girl. "Certainly. Indeed, you cannot go too soon to please me. I am anxious to hear what this poor man has to say. To me General Gordon has always been the hero of heroes, and any one who comes from him demands my attention and sympathy. Go then to this poor German, see what he most needs, and if Molly Tanner or her father can in any way help him, do not neglect to give me notice." Again the two men glance toward each other and smile, but although she sees this, there is no explana tion made of their actions. Bowing to the young American girl, they turn away, leaving the piazza of the hotel.

"Remember!" floats her warning voice after them, and Mr. Grimes, turning, waves his hand. Then they are lost in the crowd that jostle elbows in the square called Esbehiyeh, in front of Shep herd's Hotel. Around them sound the voices of dragoman and fakir, mule driver and peddler, mountebank and camel driver, while the barking of dogs can be heard everywhere, the streets of Cairo literally running wild with curs. "Are you armed?" asks the correspondent, as they cross the grand plaza and head into a street that leads from it down to the river Nile. The silver king chuckles. " Never go without a revolver, my boy. Learned that habit years ago," he replies. " Yes, you Western men generally do carry a whole armory on deck. Beastly region we have to pass through. Black as — as — well, Egypt." " Let's hire a light — no getting around in this quarter without one."

They discover near by one of those link-boys, whose trade is fast dying out in Cairo since the improvements advanced by British rule. Time was, and not so very long ago either, when, after sunset on moonless nights, the great city on the Nile was wrapped in darkness, and the law compelled any one moving abroad to carrv a lighted lantern or flambeau. The city being divided into three distinct quarters, separated by gates, and known as the regions of Copts, Jews, and Franks, no one could pass through after nightfall unless bearing a light. In many parts of the strange, whited city on the east bank of the Nile, it is still necessary to carry a torch or lantern, unless one means to invite all man ner of dangers, although the law with regard to this thing has fallen into desuetude since the English have made so many innovations with their charge of affairs after the bombardment of Alexandria in 1882.

A boy is engaged to go ahead with a light, and the two Franks, as all foreigners are called in Egypt, boldly plunge into the lower region of Cairo, front ing on the Nile. Now and then they pass remarks and joke, for the newspaper correspondent is nothing if not humorous. The frequent mention of that singular name, " Mynheer Joe," proclaims that they are exchanging confidences regarding their experiences in connection with this person in the past. Sandy is frank in all he says, and there can be no doubt regarding his fervid admiration for the man whom tliey expect to sind on board the dahabeah of Demosthenes Tanner. " It was at the storming of Alexandria 1 first met Mynheer Joe. I was then, as now, a correspondent, and ready to undergo all manner of dangers, in order to get the freshest news, even to holding a wire all day rather than let another man beat me.

" When the time came to land, in order to save the city from the mob, Arabi being defeated, I found myself thrown in the company of one who was a stranger to me. He came from a British war-ship. Liked his looks from the first, and side by side we went through the streets of Alexandria. Firing all around us — got in numerous little engagements; was once surrounded by a pack of howling native troops, who thought they could wipe us out. Mr. Grimes, you missed the sight of your life in failing to see how Gordon's friend stood off those curs. Bless my soul ! I can shut my eyes and look on the whole thing yet. I never saw such a sire-eater in action, and yet in repose Joe is as meek as a lamb. " After that I froze to him. We saw some weeks in company — weeks I have never forgotten, because I loved that man.

Then I was ordered to watch the Italian operations about Abyssinia, while Joe went to find Chinese Gordon. I lost track of him, but have never ceased to feel the deepest interest in his work, as an explorer second only to Stanley and Emin Pasha. Now you can understand my intense delight upon hearing that the man we are going to see is no other than my comrade in Alexandria, Mynheer Joe." This is about the longest consecutive narrative Mr. Grimes has ever heard Sandy give utterance to, which marks the power of that magical name. On his part, the silver king does not prove so confiding. He speaks of the man who interests them both as though acquainted with his past; but whether he has ever personally met him, Sandy finds it impossible to say. Meanwhile, they have been making progress in the direction of the river.

A light of some sort is positively needed in these streets after nightfall, moon or no moon, on account of the peculiar custom of building. The houses, as a general rule, are three stories in height. As the street itself is but an alley, barely ten feet in width, and each story of the houses pro jects beyond the one below, it is easy to shake hands from the neighboring roofs. Even this small space is often covered with mats, to keep out the garish light of day, which, reflected from the white walls, dazzles the eyes. In these narrow streets, men stand in groups engaged in discussion or barter, now and then gently pushed aside by the nose of some camel advancing silently, the " ship of the desert " being, besides the donkey, the only burden-bearer allowed in the native section. Here and there a light is seen moving along, as some sheik proceeds homeward ; but, as a general thing, darkness hangs over the street.

In many of the houses, no doubt, gayety abounds ; but Arab and Moor believe in keeping their homes sacred from the public, and only huge piles of whitened bricks lie on every side. As vet they have met with no adventure, and tlie distance between the grand square and the river has been diminished by half. This savors of rare good hick, for it is not always that a Frank can traverse this region, at such an hour, unmolested. Cairo abounds in rascals who do not fear the Eng lish law, however much they may respect the native koorbash and stocks. It is not a sin or a crime to rob a foreigner — unless caught in the act. That is the way they look at it. Sandy knows this, if his companion does not hap pen to be so thoroughly posted with regard to the customs of the city on the Nile. He continues to keep his eyes about him, and does not let tlie Arab who carries the flambeau get beyond his reach, knowing that in all probability in case of an attack the first act of the dusky rascal will be to fly and leave them in darkness to meet the foe.

They have even cut down the distance to a fourth and soon the light will fall upon the waters of the river, when the war correspondent bends suddenly for ward and snatches the torch from the hand of the astonished bearer.

Chapter II. The Man Who Saw Brave Gordon Fall

Mr. Grimes sees the action and does not appear to be at all surprised — indeed, he rarely deviates from the steady repose that marks him as a won derfully nervy man. Something glistens in his hand — it is a revolver, and the light gives the blue steel a cruel as well as a cold look. Evidently the stout tourist is ready to take care of himself. Sandy has clutched the torch, which he at once raises above his head. Half a dozen ragged forms have sprung into view beyond. Perhaps some arch has secreted them until now. There can be no mistaking their intentions, for quickly* they advance, spreading out as if to prevent the Franks, who have thus wandered into their net, from escaping. " Backsheesh I" they clatter like a lot of monkeys, holding out begrimed hands and scowling. There is only one way to treat these rascals — if you comply with their demands they grow more and more importunate, until they finally proceed to openly rob their victim.

THE MAN WHO SAW BRAVE GORDON FALL. 21 "Stand back!" cries Sandy with a roar, as he swings the flambeau around his head. They* understand enough English to know what he is saying — at any rate, his actions are doubly significant — but, believing they can rule the ranch by mere force of numbers, the ragged beggars continue to push forward, thus hemming the two whites in. Although small in point of stature, Sandy is a warrior, every inch of him, and, as might be expected from his nervous manner, possessed of an inllam mable temper. When the nearest of the rogues pushes within reaching distance and clutches at him with bony fingers, the newspaper-man brings the flaming torch, with a resounding thump, against the top of the beggar's head. It does not affect the link, beyond sending forth a shower of sparks, but the unfortunate recipient of the blow, finding sparks in his long hair, utters vociferous shouts and dances with the fervor of a dervish.

This is deemed a signal for a general assault all along the line, and for the space of sixty seconds there is seen a spectacle rarely* equaled in the nar row streets of old Cairo. At first, the two foreigners are averse to using their firearms, and endeavor to inspire terror in the breasts of their enemies by a generous exhibition of muscle. When Sandy has to dodge a fiendish blow from a wicked dagger, he thinks it about time they pro ceeded to sterner measures. Sandy opens on the rag-tag-and-bobtail crowd, as he terms them, seeking to inflict wounds and create a diversion. He is immediately backed up by his companion. His strong, white teeth hold fast to his cigar, and even as he lets drive at a dark faced fellah who seeks to cleave him with an Algerian yataghan, the silver king puffs out a small cloud of smoke.

Talk about coolness ! Here you have it in a human iceberg. Sandy holds his breath while looking at this strange companion, and wonders whether he would show excitement in the heat of battle. This sort of a reception is hardly to the liking of the cowardly curs who have appeared daring simply because their numbers gave them confidence. At the first shot most of them began to glance over their shoulders. This is a sure sign of a desire to retreat. Then comes hotter work. Sandy* no longer waits for them to come to him, but with his revolver in one hand and the flaming torch whirling about his head he leaps toward the footpads. This is too much for them — they break and flv with cries of terror, some springing up the street while others go down in the direction of the river. In a marvelously short space of time the street is empty save for one poor fellow, who, shot in the leg, is hopping off as fast as his good leg will carry him, calling on Mohammed to save him from the foreign tigers.

In any other city under the sun, such a commo tion at dead of night would create an intense excitement. Not so in Cairo. The white walls shut them in, pierced by minute windows that allow little chance of street gazing. Those who hear the sounds of war are discreet enough to know that it THE MAN WHO SAW BKAVE GORDON FALL. is none of their business, and that the}- will be better off away. " Look out behind you, sir!" calls Sandy, and the silver king turns suddenly to cover a creeping figure that has advanced from a dark-arched door way, whereupon the most piteous jargon is heard, and behold the suspected assassin turns out to be their torch-bearer, who, having witnessed the hot little affair from a place of security, is now crawling back to resume his interrupted duties. They welcome him gladly, and Sandy relieves himself of the flambeau, glad to be rid of it.

As there are no more footpads in view to give them battle, they again take up their line of march for the river, fortunately close at hand. Mr. Grimes has had explicit directions from Mr. Tanner how to reach the boat, and a suspicion has already entered his head that the ambuscade into which they ran may have been arranged by the reis of the sailing craft to relieve his rich, employer of superfluous wealth. These Arabs and natives are up to all manner of tricks to gain filthy lucre, and old travellers become so accustomed to teachery that they are surprised at nothing, and learn to depend upon themselves entirely. He even. mentions the fact, as it occurs to him, to Sandy, who declares there is a strong element of probability about it, and in the same breath swears that, if the occasion offers, he will sift the matter to the bottom and wring the neck of the wily old reis if such a course is necessary to extract the truth.

" The river !" calls out their guide in his native tongue ; and the fact arouses the two men to new interest, as they remember why they have come here. . A minute later and they stand upon the edge of the Nile. Just here the bank is high, and at this sea son of the year the water reaches its lowest stage to the south, though at Cairo there is always plenty. Below them they can see lights upon numerous vessels, some anchored out in the river, others tied up at the docks. Voices, too, come over the water from the west — men are singing on some of the coasters that ascend the river from the Mediterra nean. All the typical boats seen upon this great sea can be found on the lower Nile. Here are schoon ers, brigs, ships, men-of-war — the baggala, felucca, xebec, settee and even a patamer from India, while numerous smaller craft and dahabeahs suited to travel on the Nile dot the surface of the river by day, making a scene worth remembering.

Our two friends can discern nothing of this now since darkness rests like a pall over the water, relieved only by the riding lights and lamps on board the numerous craft. Their attention is directed at once to a point immediately below, where the gleam of several lights proclaims the presence of a boat. As they advance, they make out' the clean-cut model of a new dahabeah, and can see the dark skinned Egyptian sailors squatted on deck forward, while aft, the cabin, painted snow-white, is easily distinguishable. The boat is tied to a dilapidated dock, but, for some reason, is also anchored a dozen feet away. V long gang-plank leads from the shore on board. THE MAN WHO SAW BRAVE GORDON FALL. Sandy orders the torch-bearer to lead the way, and in order to make sure of the fellow's attendance when they have need of his services again, neglects to pay him.