our hero meets a friend unexpectedly in peculiar circumstances, and has a very strange encounter.

miles milton’s first experience in alexandria was rather curious, and, like most surprising things, quite unlooked for.

the troops were not permitted to land immediately on arrival, but of course no such prohibition lay on the passengers, who went off immediately. in the hurry of doing so, the clergyman and his family missed saying good-bye to miles, who happened to be on duty in some remote part of the vessel at the time, and the shore-boat could not be delayed. this caused mr and mrs drew much regret, but we cannot add that it caused the same to miss drew, because that young lady possessed considerable command of feature, and revealed no feeling at all on the occasion.

miles was greatly disappointed when he found that they had gone, but consoled himself with the hope that he could make use of his first day’s leave to find them out in the town and say good-bye.

“but why encourage hope?” thought miles to himself, with bitterness in his heart; “i’m only a private. marion will never condescend to think of me. what have i to offer her except my worthless self?” (you see miles was beginning to see through himself faintly.) “even if my father were a rich man, able to buy me out of the army and leave me a fortune—which he is not—what right have i to expect that a girl like marion would risk her happiness with a fellow who has no profession, no means of subsistence, and who has left home without money and without leave? bah! miles, you are about the greatest goose that ever put on a red coat!”

he was getting on, you see! if he had put “sinner” for “goose,” his shot would have been nearer the mark; as it was, all things considered, it was not a miss. he smarted considerably under the self-condemnation. if a comrade had said as much he would have resented it hotly, but a man is wonderfully lenient to himself!

under the impulse of these feelings he sought and obtained leave to go into the town. he wished to see how the new soldiers’ institute being set up there was getting along. he had promised miss robinson to pay it a visit. that was his plea. he did not feel called upon to inform his officer of his intention to visit the drews! that was quite a private matter—yet it was the main matter; for, on landing, instead of inquiring for the spot where the new institute was being erected, he began a search among the various hotels where english visitors were wont to put up. the search was successful. he found the hotel, but the family had gone out, he was told, and were not expected back till evening.

disappointment, of course, was the result; but he would wait. it is amazing what an amount of patience even impatient men will exercise when under the influence of hope! there was plenty of time to run down and see the institute, but he might miss his friends if they should chance to come in and go out again during his absence. what should he do?

“bother the institute!” he muttered to himself. “it’s only bricks an’ mortar after all, and i don’t know a soul there.”

he was wrong on both of these points, as we shall see.

“what’s the use of my going?” he murmured, after a reflective pause.

“you promised the ladies of the portsmouth institute that you’d go to see it, and report progress,” said that extraordinary something inside of him, which had a most uncomfortable way of starting up and whispering when least expected to do so.

“and,” added something, “every gentleman should keep his word.”

“true,” replied miles, almost angrily, though inaudibly; “but i’m not a gentleman, i’m only a private!”

“goose!” retorted that pertinacious something; “is not every private a gentleman who acts like one? and is not every gentleman a blackguard who behaves as such?”

miles was silenced. he gave in, and went off at once to visit the institute.

as he walked down the long straight street leading to the grand square, which had been almost destroyed by the bombardment, he passed numerous dirty drinking-shops, and wondered that english soldiers would condescend to enter such disgusting places. he was but a young soldier, and had yet to learn that, to men who have been fairly overcome by the power of the fiend strong drink, no place is too disgusting, and no action too mean, so that it but leads to the gratification of their intolerable craving. it is said that in two streets only there were 500 of these disreputable drinking-shops.

all sorts and conditions of men passed him as he went along: turks, greeks, arabs, negroes, frenchmen, italians, and englishmen, the gay colours of whose picturesque costumes lent additional brilliancy to the sunny scene. the sight of the dark-skinned men and veiled women of the arab quarter did more, however, than anything else to convince our hero that he had at last really reached the “east”—the land of the ancient pharaohs, the pyramids, the arabian nights’ entertainments, and of modern contention!

presently he came upon the piece of waste ground which had been chosen as the site of the new institute. it was covered with the ruins—shattered cement, glass, tiles, and general wreckage—of the buildings that had stood there before the bombardment, and on three sides it was surrounded by heaps of stones, shattered walls, and rubbish, some acres in extent. but the place had the great advantage of being close to the old harbour, not far from the spot where ancient alexandria stood, and was open to the fresh, cooling breezes that came in from the sea.

arab workmen were busily employed at the time on the foundations of the building, under the superintendence of an unmistakable and soldierly-looking englishman, whose broad back was presented to miles as he approached. turning suddenly round, mr tufnell, the manager of the portsmouth institute, confronted the visitor with a stern but perspiring visage, which instantly became illuminated with a beaming smile.

“what! tufnell!” exclaimed our hero, in amazement.

“ay, miles; as large as life.”

“larger than life, if anything,” said miles, grasping the proffered hand, and shaking it warmly. “why, man, the air of egypt seems to magnify you.”

“more likely that the heat of egypt is making me grow. what are you rubbing your eyes for?”

“to make sure that they do not deceive,” answered miles. “did i not leave you behind me at portsmouth?”

“so you did, friend; but the voyage in a troop-ship is not the fastest method of reaching egypt. as you see, i’ve overshot you in the race. i have come to put up the new building. but come to my palace here and have a talk and a cup of coffee. glad to see that the voyage has agreed with you.”

they reached the palace to which the manager referred, and found it to be a cottage of corrugated iron amidst the rubbish.

“here,” said tufnell, offering his friend a chair, “i spend all my time and reign supreme—monarch of all i survey. these are my subjects,” he added, pointing to the arab workmen; “that wilderness of rubbish is my kingdom; and yon heap of iron and stone is the material out of which we mean to construct our alexandria institute. to save time, (the most valuable article in the world, if you’ll believe me), miss robinson, as, perhaps, you may have heard, bought an old iron edifice in london, known as the brompton oratory, and sent it out here—like a convict—at government expense. you see, not only the public, but government, have now come to recognise the value of her work for soldiers.”

“and your subjects, the arabs—are they obedient and loyal?” asked miles.

“pretty well; but they give me some trouble now and then. the other day, for instance, we had a sad accident, which at one time i feared would land us in serious difficulties. it is necessary, you must know, in laying foundations here, to dig through the sand some twelve to fifteen feet till water is reached, and then we lay a solid stone foundation about nine feet wide. well, while digging this foundation, the sand fell in on one of the workmen. i off coat at once and set to work with a shovel, shouting to the fellows to help me. instead of helping, they rushed at me in a body to prevent my interfering in the matter. then they quarrelled among themselves as to the best way of getting the man out, and the result was that the poor fellow was suffocated, though he might easily have been rescued by prompt action. but that was not the end of it! the relations and friends of the man came down, made eastern howling and lamentation over him, and laid his corpse at the door of my cottage, holding me responsible for his life, and demanding compensation! and it was not till i had paid a few francs to every brother and cousin and relative belonging to him that their grief was appeased and the dead body carried away.

“still the matter did not end here, for next day the workmen said the accident was owing to the omission of a sacrifice at the commencement of the work, and they must have a lamb to kill on the ground, or more lives would certainly be lost. so i bought them a lamb, which they duly killed, cooked, and ate, after sprinkling its blood on the four corners of the foundation and on the walls. i had the skin of this lamb dressed and sent home as a curiosity.” see note 1.

“you appear to have pretty rough times of it then, on the whole,” said miles.

“i never counted on smooth times,” returned tufnell; “besides, being used to roughing it, i am always glad to do so in a good cause. my palace, as you see, is not a bad one, though small. it is pretty hot too, as you seem to feel; and they tell me there will be some interesting variety in my experiences when the rainy season sets in! i wouldn’t mind it so much if i could only be left to sleep in peace at nights. i stay here, you see, night and day, and what wi’ the arabs prowling around, whispering and trying to get in, and the wild dogs makin’ the neighbourhood a place o’ public meeting—barking, howling, and quarrelling over their sorrows like human bein’s, they don’t give me much rest.”

“i have read of these dogs before,” said miles. “are they really as wild and dangerous as they get credit for?”

“if you’d seen the fight i had wi’ them the other night you’d have no doubt on that point. why, a gang of ’em made a regular attack on me, and if it hadn’t been that i was pretty active with my sword-stick, they’d have torn me in bits. let me advise you never to go out after nightfall without one. is that one in your hand?”

“no, it is merely a cane.”

“well, exchange with me. there’s no saying when you may want it.”

tufnell took a light sword-stick which lay on the table and handed it to miles, who accepted it laughingly, and without the slightest belief that he should ever have occasion to use it.

in chatting about the plans of the building and the prospects of success, our hero became at last so deeply interested—partly, no doubt, because of his friend’s enthusiasm—that he forgot the flight of time, and the evening was advancing before he rose to leave.

“now, tufnell,” he said suddenly, “i must be off, i have another call of importance to make.”

“what! won’t you stop and have a cup of coffee with me?”

“impossible. my business is urgent. i want to see friends whom i may not have the chance of seeing again. good-night.”

“good-night, then, and have a care of the dogs, specially after nightfall.”

on returning to the hotel shortly after sunset, miles came to the conclusion that his love must certainly be “true,” for its course was not running “smooth.” his friends had not yet returned. mrs drew had indeed come back, alone in a cab, but she had “von headik an’ vas go to the bed.”

waiting about in front of the hotel for an hoar or two proved to be too much for our hero’s nerves; he therefore made up his mind to exhaust his nervous system by means of a smart walk. soon he found himself in a lonely place, half-way between the grand square and the ramleh gate, with a deliciously cool breeze playing on his brow, and a full moon sailing overhead.

no one was moving about on the road along which he walked. he had it all to himself at first, and the evening would have been quiet as well as beautiful but for the yelping dogs which had, by that time, come out of their day-dens to search and fight for food and hold their nightly revels.

all round him were the heaps of rubbish caused by bombardment, and the ruined houses which war had rendered tenantless, though here and there the uprising of new buildings proved that the indomitable energy of man was not to be quelled by war or anything else. a flickering oil-lamp placed here and there at intervals threw a sickly yellow light into dark recesses which the moonbeams failed to reach. intermingled with these were a few date-palms and bananas. after a time he observed a couple of figures in advance of him—a man and woman—walking slowly in the same direction.

not wishing to have his thoughts disturbed, he pushed on, intending to pass the wayfarers. he had got to within a hundred paces of them when he became aware of a violent pattering sound behind him. stopping and looking back he saw a pack of eight or nine of the wild, half-famished dogs of the place coming along the road at full gallop. he was quite aware that they were the savage, masterless creatures which keep close in hiding during the day, and come out at night to search for something to devour, but he could not bring himself to believe that any sort of dog was a dangerous animal. he therefore merely looked at them with interest as being natives of the place!

they passed without taking notice of him—as ugly and wolfish a pack as one could wish to see—led by a big fellow like a ragged disreputable collie. they also passed, with apparent indifference, the wayfarers in advance, who had stopped to look at them.

suddenly, and without a note of warning, the whole pack turned and rushed back, yelling fiercely, towards the man and woman. the latter clung to the left arm of the former, who raised his stick, and brought it down with such good-will on the skull of the foremost dog that it reeled back with an angry howl. it was not cowed, however, for it came on again, but the man, instead of striking it, thrust the end of his stick down its throat and checked it a second time. still unsubdued, the fierce animal flew at him once more, and would certainly have overcome him if miles had not run to the rescue at the first sign of attack. coming up quickly, he brought his cane down on the dog’s head with all his might, having quite forgotten the sword in the excitement of the moment! the blow did nothing to the dog, but it shattered the cane, leaving the sword exposed! this was fortunate. a quick thrust sent the dog flying away with yells of pain and fear, followed by all his companions, who seemed to take their cue entirely from their leader.

turning to congratulate the wayfarers on their escape, miles confronted mr drew and his daughter marion!

if he had encountered the glare of the great sea-serpent he could scarcely have been taken more completely aback.

“my dear young friend,” said the clergyman, recovering himself and grasping the passive hand of the young soldier with enthusiasm, though he could not help smiling at his obvious embarrassment, “you seem to have been raised up to be our rescuer!”

“i hope i have been raised up for something even more satisfactory than that,” thought miles, but he did not say so! what he did say—in a stammering fashion—was to the effect that he hoped he might be called on to—to—render many more such trifling services—no—he did not quite mean that, but if they should ever again be in danger, he hoped they would call on him to—to—that is—

“but i hope sincerely,” he added, changing the subject abruptly, “that you are not hurt, miss drew?”

“oh dear no; only a little frightened. but, father, are you sure that you are not hurt?”

“quite sure; only a little sprain, i think, or twist in my right ankle. the attack was so sudden, you see, that in the hurry to meet it my foot turned over. give me your arm, my young friend. there; it will be all right in a few minutes. how you tremble, marion! your nerves have received a greater shock than you imagine, and a lame man is but a poor support. give her your other arm, mr miles. you are stout enough to support us both.”

stout enough to support them both! ay, at that moment miles felt stout enough to support the entire world, like atlas, on his own broad shoulders! with a blush, that the moon generously refused to reveal, marion laid her hand lightly on the soldier’s arm. it was much too light a touch, and did not distribute with fairness the weight of his burden, for the old gentleman hung heavily on the other arm. mr drew walked very slowly, and with evident pain, for the twist of the ankle had been much more severe than he at first imagined.

“you will come in and sup with us,” said mr drew, on at last reaching the hotel door.

“impossible. i am exceedingly sorry, but my time has almost expired. indeed, i fear it has expired already, and duty comes before everything else. your daughter taught me that lesson, sir, on board ship!”

“oh you hypocrite!” remarked his familiar and plain-spoken internal friend; “where was this grand sense of duty when you left home in a rage without ‘by your leave’ to father or mother?” miles could make no reply. he had a tendency to silence when this friend spoke, and returned to barracks in a pensive mood, just in time, as armstrong said, to save his bacon.

note 1. this fleece is now, among other curiosities, at the portsmouth institute.