Suddenly the crack of a pistol sounded in the house above. It was followed by another and another, dull but distinct, then came a muffled cry of pain.
They both roused instantly. Lovelace began to batter upon the trap door again and to yell for help with all the strength of his lungs.
He heard shouting, another fusillade of shots, trampling feet, a scream as somebody was hit; but he never ceased his frantic cries for help and violent pounding on the wooden trap.
Next moment it was drawn up. Gasping for breath he staggered out and turned to pull up the half fainting Jeremiah.
After the darkness of the cellar he was temporarily blinded by the light but, in a moment, he saw that Valerie was helping him with the black and that Christopher stood behind her, his pale face tense, his black eyes gleaming as he clutched a smoking automatic in each of his hands, covering their escape.
13
The enemy strikes back
'Now! I really must know what’s been happening,' Lovelace declared as he took his first sip at a welcome glass of hot grog.
Half an hour had sped by during which questions were hardly possible. Every moment had been occupied by their flight from Zarrif’s villa, the race back to Alexandria in a hired car with a strange driver and Lovelace getting out of his wet clothes at Valerie's orders to roll up in warm blankets on the sofa of a dingy hotel sitting room.
She smiled and patted the cushions into a more comfortable position behind his shoulders. 'I really ought to wait until Christopher comes back; then we could both hear how you got caught.'
'Never mind about that. I'll tell you later, what’s happened to Christopher though? Where's he gone rushing off to at this time of night?'
`To try and find Otto Klinger.'
`What, the member of the Millers who lives here?'
`Yes. Zirrif has gone and you say you have no idea where he is making for so Christopher thought Klinger might possibly be able to help us to get on his track again. He didn't like to leave it till the morning.'
`It must be getting on that way already.'
Valerie laughed. `My dear, you've lost count of time. It's only a little after nine o'clock. As soon as you're feeling fitter I'm going to order a belated dinner to be sent up to us.'
'Good Lord!' he passed a hand quickly over his eyes. `And I thought it must be well past midnight. Every moment I spent in that hellish cistern seemed an eternity. But how the devil did you find out what had happened to me?'
`We didn't, and you wouldn't be here now if one of the enemy hadn't had a shot at murdering Christopher this afternoon.'
Lovelace raised his eyebrows and whistled. `Phew, they've got on to the fact that he's here then?'
`Not here I hope.' She glanced at the carefully curtained windows. `This isn't the Gordon Pasha Hotel, where we agreed to stay, you know. We quit that in double quick time, after the attempt had failed, and picked on this as another unpretentious little place where we might hope for a few hours' grace before they ran us to earth again. It was our forced change of address which made us decide to go out to Zarrif’s villa on the chance of being able to let you know about it.'
`You knew I was out there then? Saw us landing, I suppose.'
`Yes. I lost Zarrif’s plane in the cloud banks over the eastern end of Crete, but I held on my course as it looked as if he was heading for Alex. and I managed to pick him up again just as we sighted land. There was no mistaking that great, four engined machine of his. That night Christopher and I went out to have a snoop round the villa. We knew you must be somewhere inside it unless they had dropped you overboard and that was hardly likely.'
Lovelace frowned. `I'm afraid I'm awfully dense but I still don't see how you knew they'd caught me and chucked me into that filthy cellar.'
`We didn't,' she shook her sleek chestnut head, `but once we'd left the Gordon Pasha we realised you wouldn't know where on earth we'd got to, and we felt it would be far too risky to go back there and inquire for letters, so we went out to the villa in the hope of getting a message through to you about our change of address.'
`And then?'
`Well, we left the car with the chauffeur bout half a mile down the road, walked up to within a couple of hundred yards of the house, and installed ourselves behind a sand dune. The heat was simply grueling there but we stuck it and watched the place all through the afternoon, hoping you'd appear at one of the windows or come out for a stroll in the garden, because we thought it absolutely vital to let you know we'd had to leave the Gordon Pasha. We'd printed the name of this hotel in large, black letters on a big sheet of white cardboard that we meant to hold up for you to see if only you showed yourself and we could attract your attention while no one else was about. We saw Jeremiah Green drive up with one of Zarrif’s men but there wasn't a sign of you.'
Lovelace nodded. `I was in a ground floor sitting room at the back of the house all the afternoon; more or less confined there although not actually a prisoner. But go on; what happened then?'
`We had almost decided to chuck it up and come out again tomorrow morning when Zarrif’s pilots appeared and ran his plane out of its hangar. Twilight had fallen by then but the place was lit up by the hangar arc lights and as it looked as if something interesting was going to happen we stayed on. Zirrif appeared with Cassalis and the whole bodyguard about three quarters of an hour later. They all went aboard the plane and she sailed away to the south westward. As you weren't with them it was obvious you had either remained behind on purpose or that something had gone wrong.'
`So you came in to see?
'That's it. We waited a good bit longer to see if you'd come out and take the road to Alexandria but as you didn't we made up our minds to go in and get you.'
`Jove! That was plucky of you.'
Valerie's grey eyes danced. `Christopher did all the heavy stuff; but I must say I enjoyed it.'
`Did the servants put up much of a fight?'
She shook her head, 'One took a pot at us but Christopher shot him in the thigh. He chivvied the others along the hall, firing over their heads, till we got into the kitchen. We could hear you shouting by that time, fit to wake the dead, and the blacks were tumbling over each other out of the window.'
`What a bit of luck for me you came in when you did.' Lovelace sighed. `But tell me about the attempt to murder Christopher this afternoon.'
`It was quite well planned,' she said slowly. `You know there are lots of these students' riots going on in Egypt. They don't seem to care a bit for you British.'
He nodded. `That's Ben Jelhoull, unless I'm much mistaken. He's behind all this anti British trouble.'
`Why?' She raised her straight eyebrows in a puzzled frown.
'Ben Jelhoull,' he repeated. 'Haven't you ever heard of him? He is known as the Hitler of Algeria and runs a sort of Nazi movement there for the blacks or Arabs, I suppose one should call them anyhow, the Mohammedans; and he's become a real thorn in the side of the French.'
'What's that to do with Egypt?'
`A lot. Ben Jelhoull's followers are known as the Young Turbans. The movement has spread until its so powerful today that it controls the coloured population of the whole of North Africa from Morocco to the Red Sea. It's no longer anti French, but anti white; and if there's a general blow up the Young Turbans will prove a very big factor to reckon with. They'll start a Jebad, a Holy War, and that won't be much fun to have on our hands if we're up against Italy, Germany and Japan at the same time.'
`It's more vital than ever, then, for us to stop Zirrif getting that concession which may set fire to the powder magazine.' Valerie's eyes were very earnest.
`Yes, but tell me what happened to Christopher.'
`Well, one of these riots occurred outside the Gordon Pasha this morning. It wasn't anything serious, but the police had to fire a few rounds over the heads of the crowd before they would disperse. Our sitting room was on the second floor, so Christopher and I watched the trouble from our window. Some of the mob were hurling brickbats, and a few, who had revolvers, were firing wild, but there didn't seem the least danger of our being hit at that height, because they were aiming at the police in the street.'