The Travels of Sherlock Holmes, page 13
‘I thought the place seemed empty,’ I remarked.
Selim nodded. ‘The only woman in the place is his wife, and from his description she is not the houri who led the lieutenant astray. Of course, if you would like to see her –’
‘That will hardly be necessary,’ said Sigerson with a laugh.
‘He says that they threatened her,’ added Selim, ‘and that he would have refused but for that. It may be true. Who can say?’ He shrugged again. ‘A handful of gold buys a poor man’s conscience.’ He became business like, turned to his soldiers and dismissed them with a curt word. They saluted and marched away. ‘I think we might venture on a cup of his coffee,’ Selim continued. ‘I hardly think he will poison us now.’ He called an order to the frightened proprietor, who hastened to obey, and led the way to a quiet corner.
‘Now, we must discuss the best course of action,’ said Sigerson, ‘and as quickly as may be.’
‘But how on earth did you find me?’ I wanted to know. ‘And how came the two of you to be acquainted?’
Sigerson waved a hand dismissively. ‘We really have little time for trifles of that sort.’
‘I am not sure,’ said Selim thoughtfully. ‘In the east we do not have the same need to hasten as you do, yet perhaps we get there just as fast. Lieutenant Dyce is naturally curious as to just what happened.’
‘It is quite irrelevant,’ snapped Sigerson waspishly, in a tone so far removed from his usual politeness that I raised an eyebrow at Selim, who grinned.
‘But it was so amusing!’ Selim told me. ‘You see, I had been following you –’
‘And why, pray?’
Selim gave another oriental shrug. ‘It seemed likely to prove interesting – and it did, yes? Anyway, Mr Sigerson here had observed me – and others – on the trail, and decided to set a little trap.’
‘Ah, so that is why you sent me out alone, as a decoy?’
Sigerson snorted audibly, and devoted his attention to the sticky sweetmeat, immersed in a tall glass of iced water, which the proprietor had just brought him.
Selim went on, ‘When I myself set out to follow, I saw at once that Mr Sigerson was following someone else, someone I knew nothing about.’
‘Igorov’s men!’ said I.
Selim nodded. ‘Evidently. I thought, this looks like good sport, and set off to follow Mr Sigerson.’
‘I never saw him,’ Sigerson confessed, ‘for I thought there was only one man, and I had marked him already. When you entered the café and spoke to the girl, I settled down to watch what might happen – I was suspicious, for I had seen the man who was trailing you go into the back lane behind the café. I did not know that Selim had settled down to watch me in turn.’ He broke off to wave away a beggar who had wandered into the place, and was making himself objectionable with his whining.
Selim took up the tale. ‘When Mr Sigerson thought you had been gone too long, he entered the café himself. I, no longer able to contain my curiosity, went in after him. We had never been introduced, you see, and besides it was dark inside, and consequently Mr Sigerson was – initially, at least – under the impression that I was one of the gang who had made off with you, and that I proposed to do the same to him.’
‘Indeed!’ said I, delighted. ‘So it appears we both made an error of judgement.’ The beggar was now standing at my shoulder, and I dismissed him with a firm, ‘Imshi! Clear off!’ before asking, ‘And what happened then?’
‘This is not getting us any nearer our main goal,’ said Sigerson.
Selim rubbed his left arm. ‘He fights like a tiger, your Mr Sigerson,’ he told me ruefully.
‘You are quite proficient in the noble art yourself,’ said Sigerson magnanimously. He threw back his head and laughed aloud. ‘By the time each of us had established his bona fides to the satisfaction of the other, the trail was quite cold. Only Selim’s good offices, and the generous application of palm-oil, enabled us to find your prison today. Almost three full days wasted,’ he added with a return of the acrimony he had shown earlier. ‘Igorov must have left the city as soon as he knew we were occupied looking for you, and as a result has almost three clear days’ start on us. Moreover, we have not the slightest notion as to which direction he has chosen.’
‘Come, things may not be so bad,’ said Selim, and was about to say more when the beggar, evidently quite determined not to leave such an august company empty handed, approached him. Selim waved a hand in elegant dismissal.
‘I offend the Frankish milords,’ said the beggar, speaking a villainous English in a curious high whine, ‘do I also offend the Turkish bey?’
Selim laughed. ‘Blessed are they that give alms in the name of Allah,’ he quoted, ‘for it shall return five-fold as an ear of corn, and every ear shall bear a hundred grains.’ He reached into the pocket of his elegant trousers. ‘Take, then be gone, son of an incontinent camel.’
The beggar flung himself onto his knees, and took Selim’s hand in both his grimy paws. When he rose and opened his hand, there was silver, not just copper, therein, and he almost ran out, calling down blessings on Selim, his wives and his offspring unto the tenth generation.
‘If you would excuse me a moment?’ Selim rose, looked about him, and went out through a back door into heaven knew what sordid purlieu.
Sigerson leaned over the table. ‘As you will have gathered,’ he told me in a low tone, ‘this fellow Barakat is an agent of the Turkish secret service, and that is why he was interested in Igorov. Fortunately, relations between Turkey and Britain are excellent at the moment, and he has given me every assistance in the search for you – indeed, it would be true to say that, without him, you would still be a prisoner.’
‘I wonder how long they had planned to keep me locked up?’
Sigerson shrugged. ‘Until they became bored, I imagine,’ he said cheerfully. ‘The longer the better, so far as Igorov was concerned, for it meant we should be prevented that much longer from following him. Well, we must possess our souls in patience, until Selim deigns to share with us the information which his messenger has just brought.’
‘His messenger?’
‘My dear fellow!’ said Sigerson, shaking his head sadly. ‘Ah, Selim. And what news have you?’
Selim laughed. ‘I should have known that my Turkish carrier pigeon would not escape the gaze of the Frankish hawk. News, indeed! Good news, my friends: we have found him. He heads west and by south across the desert, and his ultimate goal is Mecca.’
Sigerson and I stared at one another in silence for a long moment. Then Sigerson asked, ‘You are certain?’
‘Absolutely. He has taken a dragoman, and porters, and paid them well for their silence. But the dragoman must know the destination, to calculate the food and so forth needed for the journey. And the dragoman has a wife, and the wife has a brother, and the brother has a wife who has a cousin who is one of my men.’ He smiled at us.
‘Good Lord!’ said I. ‘No wonder you were able to find me!’
Selim’s dusky face flushed, for all the world like an Indian maiden who has been paid a flowery compliment. ‘He specified Mecca, but the dragoman, not being very familiar with the desert – and perhaps being a little over-fond of that wife of his – undertook only to go as far as Baghdad with him. Igorov must find another guide there, and that will take time, so it may be possible to catch him before he sets off on the next stage of his journey.’
‘It will be better merely to follow, to see exactly what he is about before we act,’ said the practical Sigerson. ‘The really interesting question must be, why Mecca? We know that Igorov has been speaking to a religious teacher here in Teheran, the man whose house lies opposite. And now he travels to Mecca. Why, I wonder? Does Islam appeal to him? I beg leave to doubt it.’
‘Remember that in Mecca he will find the true Islam,’ said Selim. ‘The variety found here is Shi’ia, and that is – well,’ and he made a little moue of distaste. ‘And yet I think you are right, I too distrust this sudden enlightenment – and besides, should he not have taken the road to Damascus in that case?’ He threw back his head and laughed, then grew serious again. ‘He is up to something, no doubt about it. And the fact that he is meddling with my religion offends me.’
‘He may have lied, knowing that his guide would not take him so far, and knowing also that we should ask questions,’ I said.
‘Well, that is possible. But there is only one way to determine what he is doing,’ said Sigerson, ‘and that is for us to follow him to Mecca, or to Baghdad in the first instance.’
‘You are right,’ said Selim. He pushed his coffee cup away, and made ready to stand up. ‘If we begin the preparations now, we can leave early tomorrow morning.’
‘I meant, of course, that Dyce and I would follow him, my dear fellow,’ said Sigerson.
‘And I, my dear fellow, mean that the three of us should follow him,’ answered Selim.
Sigerson shook his head quickly. ‘It is our quarrel.’
‘Here in Persia, perhaps. In England or Russia, undoubtedly. But Mecca, though on the fringes of the Ottoman Empire, is nonetheless part of that Empire, and thus within my territory. Baghdad most certainly is my concern.’
‘There will be danger.’
‘I have four sons,’ said Selim. ‘If I enter Paradise, my line will continue. And doubtless you yourselves have made similar provisions.’
‘My own contribution to posterity has been more modest,’ said Sigerson, ‘while young Dyce here has been too busy to bother with anything of the kind. It is a kind offer, but I really cannot permit it. Think of the reproaches from those four sons were you not to return. How should I face that?’
‘That is your last word?’
‘Absolutely. Dyce and I shall leave tomorrow. Alone.’
‘The winter has just recently begun,’ mused Selim, ‘so travel will not be too difficult yet. You ought to cross the border into the Turkish administration – what – a week from today? So I assure you that a week from tomorrow, you will be arrested. A couple of days in a Turkish prison – not the most hospitable of places, I fear – and you will be passed on to the British Consul with a curt note that you are to be sent back to England at once, and will thenceforth be regarded as persona non grata. Or should that be personas? Or even personae?’ he asked anxiously.
The finer points of Latin syntax were clearly not uppermost in Sigerson’s mind at that moment. His face showed a mixture of impotent rage and bafflement, barely suppressed, and badly suppressed, but suppressed nevertheless. ‘You would do that?’ he asked at last.
Selim nodded. ‘I should regret it, of course. It would be much better if you could go to Mecca with me, and investigate this rogue’s doings. But, if I must go alone –’ and he shrugged.
The fact that Sigerson did not grind his teeth audibly is a magnificent testimony to the achievements of the English educational system. Speaking with an effort, he said, ‘You will place yourself under my command? You will restrain that youthful exuberance which has already jeopardized my – our – mission?’
‘Provided that it does not conflict with my duty to my superiors, my country, or the government I have the honour to serve, I will do so gladly,’ said Selim, holding out his hand.
Sigerson shook the proffered hand and smiled briefly. ‘How soon can we start?’
Chapter Fourteen – Mecca
Selim evidently had some considerable influence at his Legation, for we were indeed able to set out early next morning, complete with a dragoman – that curious oriental compound of guide, adviser, confidant and man of business – a dozen mule drivers and their charges to carry our baggage, and six heavily armed Turkish soldiers.
Sigerson had ventured to enquire whether such a large caravan was strictly necessary, and I confess that I had raised an eyebrow as well, but Selim assured us that our party was still not by any means so numerous as to positively guarantee our safety. The mountains, he said, were full of bandits, and moreover the approaching winter would itself add to the difficulty of the journey. The mules were needed to transport the large quantities of tinned foodstuffs we should have to take, for such inns as there might be along the way were not to be relied upon, and there were none of any kind in the mountains.
Convinced by these arguments, Sigerson and I held our peace, and let Selim get on with the arrangements, with the result, as I say, that all was ready for our departure next day.
Once again I am placed in the awkward position of having to decide between writing a lengthy guide to part of Asia Minor, or dismissing a lengthy, memorable and not entirely comfortable journey in a few lines. The journey itself may have formed no part of our main scheme, or adventure, but nevertheless it was one which I shall not soon forget.
Our first day or so was spent in crossing a part of that Dasht-e-Kavir which we had already traversed on the way into Teheran. At that season it was very far from the average Englishman’s idea of a desert, for it resembled nothing so much as a rugby field which has seen hard use after a week of continuous rain. Then up into the Zagros Mountains, the track getting steeper, narrower and rockier as we went.
Winter was beginning to take hold in good earnest now, and we were soon compelled to cease all idle conversation as we went, and battle, with heads bent down, against the sleet and snow driven at us by the bitter winds. We had cause then to thank Selim for his preparations, for I do not know what we should have done without the furs and heavy travelling cloaks he had equipped us with. The soldiers, too, were amply provided for, and so were some of the more provident muleteers, but some of the poor fellows, either from a lack of foresight akin to that of the foolish virgins, or from simple lack of the wherewithal to buy warm clothing, faced those appalling conditions in nothing more than thin cotton jackets. On more than one occasion we had quite literally to set some poor half-frozen mule driver by the fireside so that he might thaw out at the end of our day’s march. And this despite the fact that the sun often shone brilliantly overhead for the whole day! But it was an illusory brightness, with no sort of warmth to be felt in it.
Although the track is difficult and dangerous, it is – in the right season for travelling, at any rate – quite well patronized, and there are inns or settlements strung out along the way, save in the most inhospitable stretches, so that we did not have to spend more than one or two nights outside, thank Heaven. And we never did encounter any bandits, to my secret disappointment. I suspect that, like all sensible men, they had found snug quarters for the winter.
After a week or so of this, we noticed that we were travelling gradually down, instead of up. Selim assured us that we should be in Baghdad in a very few days, and this proved correct.
As this was Selim’s home ground, we left the immediate enquiries very much to him, and in a very short time he had discovered that Igorov had joined a caravan bound for Medina, and had been gone three days.
‘They cannot have got very far,’ I said eagerly, ‘for they will travel at the speed of the slowest camel. If we get fresh horses, we ought to be able to catch up with them very quickly.’
But Selim shook his head. ‘And then what? I have no doubt that the prince has a passport and permits, all will be as it should. True, I might have him arrested and deported, but then another agent could easily be sent to complete the task, whatever it may be. Far better to travel after them, we could catch up a little, I think, a day or so, in order that there will not be too great a delay when we arrive, but far enough behind not to attract attention to ourselves. I shall start to search for guides and provisions.’
The last remark referred to the fact that we had by this time lost our original guide and the mule drivers. Being doubtful as to whether they possessed the detailed knowledge needed for a desert crossing – a doubt which I may say that I shared, in view of the failure of some of their number to bring along as much as a decent coat for a winter trek through the mountains – they had taken their pay and set off back through those mountains to Teheran. Selim accordingly left us, and went to seek out local men for the task.
He returned in great glee, to say that not only had he found suitable men, but that he had been approached by a couple of merchants desirous of travelling to Medina with us. These men had intended to reach Baghdad in time to join that caravan by which Igorov had departed, but some delay had prevented their doing so, and they were now sitting in a caravanserai alternately bemoaning their fate, and asking if anyone might be going in that general direction.
‘Will they not slow us down?’ I had to ask.
‘I think not,’ said Selim. ‘Their camels are in good heart, and there are not too many of them. But they will be useful in case of trouble, and moreover the presence of merchants will serve to allay any suspicion of our party.’
Between ourselves, I rather suspect that these merchants had contributed to the expenses of outfitting the soldiers who were still with us, which was, I suppose, fair enough, as we were giving them the benefit of our protection.
Having told us about the merchants, Selim had another proposition to put to us, this time of a more delicate nature. ‘It might be as well,’ said he, ‘if you were to pass as Muslims yourselves. Although there have been plenty of westerners who have crossed the desert – and visited Mecca, come to that – they have usually done so in disguise, for there are many fanatics who would take exception to your presence here.’
By this time both Sigerson and I were not so much tanned as weather stained. Then we had both grown beards of a sort during the journey, for the facilities for one’s morning toilet were rudimentary in the mountains. So, with our baggy trousers and long travelling cloaks, we passed easily enough for natives.
Our only concern was how Selim’s men might react to our joining in their devotions, but he assured us that they were all hand picked by him, that they were soldiers first and foremost and thus had the practical approach of soldiers, and finally that, provided we remained at the back of the assembly so that they could not actually see what we did, they would have no objection whatever to our being there. He further told me privately, Sigerson being busy elsewhere, that there were still plenty of eunuchs in Byzantium, but that none of his soldiers had the slightest inclination to join their unmanly ranks, a fate he had categorically assured them lay in wait should they betray us by so much as a contemptuous curl of the lip.
