d.i.c.k slipped through the trap and dropped.
He fell on his hands and knees, and instantly realized that, were he to stand erect, his head and shoulders would protrude through the square opening above.
He felt one of his companions at his side. He looked up and saw the muscular black man again moving the bale. a.s.souan sat with his legs dangling through the opening. The trapdoor was leaning against his shoulder. He reached over, grasped the bale and pulled it against the door. Then, swiftly, yet with deliberation, he slid down through the trap, permitting the door to close, with the tipped bale settling over it.
In the darkness, beneath, the four fugitives crouched on the bare ground, hearing above their heads the feet of their pursuers.
After a time the tread of feet and murmur of voices ceased. Evidently their pursuers had departed baffled.
Then a.s.souan whispered directions to them, and, one after the other, the black man leading, they crawled many feet along what seemed to be a trenchlike pa.s.sage beneath the building.
Finally a.s.souan paused. He rose, and they saw a gleam of light that came faintly through another square opening. This dim light revealed their conductor opening another trapdoor by lifting it. He stood erect, and then sprang lightly up through the opening.
"Oh, Richard!" whispered Professor Gunn; "this is a terrible experience!
If we escape with our lives, I shall always think of this day with unspeakable horror."
a.s.souan was stooping over the opening, with his hands outstretched. He directed them to rise and permit him to a.s.sist them.
d.i.c.k urged the professor onward. The black man grasped the hands of the old pedagogue and lifted him through the trap.
Buckhart needed no a.s.sistance, nor did d.i.c.k, who swiftly followed him.
a.s.souan closed the trapdoor behind him.
"Wherever are we?" inquired the Texan.
The black man explained that they were in a building that stood on the opposite side of a narrow street at the back of the German hotel.
They had actually crept through a pa.s.sage that led beneath this street.
This pa.s.sage had been made years before, by the former owner of the hotel, who feared a repet.i.tion of the ma.s.sacre of 1860, and wished a means of escaping from the building in case it should be a.s.sailed by a mob. It was doubtful if the present proprietor knew of the existence of the pa.s.sage.
The old sheik, Ras al Had, had chanced by accident to discover the pa.s.sage while storing goods in the building into which it led from the hotel. At the present time this building was used as a storehouse. The room in which they found themselves was poorly lighted. They were again amid boxes and bales of goods.
Outside, between them and the hotel, they heard the sound of many voices. The mob was there, but the soldiers were still holding the crowd in check.
"My goodness!" murmured Professor Gunn. "It seems to me that we"re still in a nasty sc.r.a.pe. We haven"t escaped."
Without a word, the black man led the way to another part of the building. A heavy door faced them in one dim corner. This door a.s.souan knew how to open, but he paused and listened some moments before unfastening it.
"When the door is opened," he finally said, "step quickly across and into a doorway directly opposite."
They were ready. The door was opened, and, without loss of time, they crossed a s.p.a.ce of about three feet between the two buildings and entered the doorway spoken of by a.s.souan.
The black man followed them as soon as he had closed the door after leaving the storehouse. They found they had stepped into a room where, sitting cross-legged on the floor, an old sandal maker was at work. To their surprise, this old man, after looking at them curiously, kept on about his labor without speaking a word.
a.s.souan explained that the man was a mute.
The black man made some signs, which were answered by a single signal from the sandal maker. Then a.s.souan again instructed his disguised companions to follow him, pushed aside a curtain from a low doorway, stooped and pa.s.sed into an adjoining room.
This room was on the front of the house. The door to the street stood wide open. A middle-aged Syrian woman was working at a rude loom, weaving some sort of goods. Two girls, one about thirteen and the other eight or nine, were sorting and preparing the strands used by the woman in her work.
The woman glanced at a.s.souan, but seemed to give none of the others a look. d.i.c.k fancied an expression of alarm swept over her face, but she continued stolidly and steadily about her work.
The children stared at them until the woman spoke in a low tone of command, seeming to rebuke them for their rudeness, after which they resumed the work of sorting and preparing the strands.
a.s.souan tossed a piece of silver before the woman, but she kept at her work, without seeming to notice it. d.i.c.k would have dropped more money, but the black man restrained him with a gesture and a shake of the head.
They pa.s.sed out upon the street, one at a time.
a.s.souan strode in advance. Professor Gunn, looking like a ragged old Armenian, doddered along behind him. Buckhart, as a respectable young Greek, kept by himself, taking the opposite side of the street. d.i.c.k imitated the shiftless, shuffling walk of the young vagabonds of the city, thus making his a.s.sumed character seem real, and followed them all at a little distance.
The street was well filled-almost crowded-with excited people, who were talking of the murder of the Pasha and the belief that those concerned in the murder were trapped in the German hotel.
Although the people were speaking in various languages, d.i.c.k understood something of what was being said, and he realized that he was surrounded by Moslems.
Although Abraham had performed his work well, he had made a mistake in disguising the old professor as an Armenian. The Turks were aroused.
Although they were stirred up against foreigners, their hatred for the Armenians was liable to burst forth any moment.
Thus it happened that a group of young men suddenly stopped the disguised professor and began hustling him about.
The old man said not a word, for he knew he would betray himself if he opened his mouth.
Brad Buckhart paused and watched proceedings, his hands clenched and his aspect indicating that he was on the verge of pitching in and a.s.sisting Zenas.
d.i.c.k made a warning gesture, which Brad saw. He also paused, but he looked on as if quite indifferent to what was taking place.
a.s.souan had disappeared. Fully understanding the terrible peril his companions were in, he had no desire to become involved, and, therefore, he had hastened on.
Our friends were left to their fate in the streets of Damascus.
CHAPTER XXI-SAVED BY PRAYER
One of the mob struck the old professor in the face. Instantly d.i.c.k started forward.
Then a most fortunate thing happened.
From the balcony of a near-by minaret a muezzin sent forth the call to prayer:
"G.o.d is great. There is but one G.o.d. Mohammed is the prophet of G.o.d.
Prayer is better than sleep. Come to prayer."
Immediately a wonderful change came over the crowd on the street. As one man, they lifted their hands to their ears, the lobes of which they touched with their thumbs, keeping their hands outspread, at the same time beginning to repeat certain pa.s.sages from the Koran. This was the beginning of the Mohammedan prayer.
The professor seemed forgotten. d.i.c.k realized instantly that this was a time to be improved, for the shortest prayer would require several minutes.