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'Hi! what goes on here? '

Momentarily the struggle ceased. The men turned and scowled at him. One of the women, taking advantage of their attention being temporarily diverted, tore herself from the grasp of the man who was holding her. Before she could run two steps the man grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back. In her attempt to escape she had swung round face to face with Roger, and he found himself staring at one of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen in his life.

Love at First Sight

The girl—for Roger judged her to be not more than seventeen— was swathed from chin to feet in voluminous black garments that gave her the appearance of a bundle, so it was impossible to get any idea of her figure; but her hood had been ripped from her head and her yashmak from her face, so that the light from the lantern showed her features clearly.

They were, at the moment, distorted by pain from her having been brought up short by the soldier's violent tug on her hair. It had come uncoiled and now showed as a dark mass at the back of her neck, framing her tight-stretched throat and upturned face. Her forehead was low but broad, the hair growing down in a widow's peak. Her eyebrows resembled the wings of a sea-gull curving gently upwards at the ends. Her eyes, now wide from fear and pain, were enormous and fringed by dark, curling lashes. Her mouth, too, was open from the gasp she had given, revealing two rows of even, shining teeth. Her cheek-bones were high and her chin rounded, with a cleft in the middle. Below it her throat was a firm, slender column, disappearing into the folds of her shapeless garments.

Roger drew in his breath, then said sharply to the man who was holding her, ' Let go this woman's hair. You're hurting her.'

With a sullen look, the soldier obeyed. The girl instantly made to dart off up the alley, but a Sergeant who was standing near her grabbed her arm, pulled her back and growled, ' Not so fast, my pretty.' Then he turned to Roger and said in a belligerent voice:

' We're not on duty now, Colonel. You'd best mind your own business and leave us be.'

Roger knew then that if he meant to rescue the girl he was going to have his work cut out. The Sergeant and at least three of the other five men he judged to be veterans of the Italian campaign. There the troops had been allowed full licence on scores of occasions, to loot and rape at will when they had captured cities, towns and villages. Husbands who had endeavoured to protect their wives, or fathers their daughters, had often been beaten insensible or even killed, but no disciplinary action had been taken. Many of the men were ex-sans-culottes who clung tenaciously to the doctrines of the Revolution. They would obey their officers in all matters to do with war, but treated them as equals on other occasions. None the less, he replied firmly:

' It is my business. The General-in-Chief has given strict instructions that the inhabitants of the city are to be treated with respect.'

The Sergeant sniffed. ' Yes. No breaking into houses; that's the order. And a bloody shame it is, seeing what we've been through this past month. But you can't tell me the '' Little Corporal" means to deprive us of any woman we can get our hands on.'

Roger had no doubt at all that the Sergeant was right about that. As happened with seaborne expeditions sent out by every country, the sailors had managed to smuggle a few molls on to each ship; but Bonaparte had cut down ruthlessly on camp-followers, and only a small part of the Army had, for a few days, actually occupied Alexandria, so it was getting on for three months since the great majority of the men had had any commerce with women. As it was every General's business to keep his men as contented as possible, and as Bonaparte himself was far from being a puritan, Roger felt certain that the declaration about the troops being allowed a fair degree of licence would cover their taking, by force if necessary, such women as they could find in the brothels, streets and other public places. Even so, he proceeded to argue the point and said:

' That's all very well. Ordinarily I would not think of interfering with you; but this girl is no woman of the streets. I heard—'

' Who cares what she is, or this one either? ' cried a be-whiskered giant who was holding the other bundle of black garments against his chest by an arm crooked round the front of her neck. 'They're women and ours by right of capture. That's all that matters.'

Ignoring the man's insolence, Roger replied quickly, '1 was about to say that I heard one of them call for help in French.'

* Us, too; and all the better,' interrupted the Sergeant. ' It was this one here. When she's danced a jig on her back for us we'll make her sing us a song.'

Suddenly the girl he was holding burst out in a husky voice to Roger, '1 am French! My father is a French merchant! Monsieur, I implore you to save us from these men and take me and my maid to his house.'

'There! ' Roger declared triumphantly. 'You heard what she said. She is a Frenchwoman. I refuse to stand by and let you treat her as though she were an Arab street-walker.'

' Then do the other thing,' retorted the Sergeant roughly. ' Stop acting like a creeping Jesus instead of one of our Colonels, and get out.'

For a moment Roger was silent. He was one of the finest swordsmen in that Army of fine swordsmen. Had there been only two, or even three, of them, he would have whipped out his blade and scared them into submission by swiftly pinking them in the arm or leg, while threatening worse if they dare attack him. But six men could not lightly be wounded by one in a matter of a few seconds. If all six of them set on him simultaneously it was certain that he would be overcome and, perhaps, seriously wounded.

An alternative was to endeavour to attract the attention of one of the squads that had been ordered to patrol the streets as a protection against looting. But the nearest might be half a mile away and, even if his shouts were heard and a patrol arrived on the scene, there was no legitimate charge upon which he could have the Sergeant and his cullies arrested. Only at a direct order from one of their own officers, if he could be persuaded to give it, were they likely to release the two women.

As Roger gazed at the beautiful, anxious face within a yard of his own he decided that anything was worth trying. Expecting that the men meant to take their captives back to their barracks, he asked, ' Where are you quartered? '

The Sergeant jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a small, dark house behind him. ' Why, here. It's empty. There's not a stick of furniture in it. But they say the Army will be in Cairo for a while, and when we come on it this afternoon I thought it would make a better home from home for me and my mates than the lousy stable we'd been given; so I got my officer's permission for us to occupy it.'

' Come on! ' growled the bewhiskered giant. ' Let's get moving. With all this argument we're wasting half the night.' Then he began to push the woman he was holding towards the rickety door of the house.

' One moment! ' cried Roger. ' One moment! ' Yet he could not think of anything more to say. He was now wondering desperately if he could possibly overcome them by a sudden attack without becoming liable for the death of one of them or being struck down himself.

His reluctance either to fight or quit showed in his expression. Noticing it a young, snub-nosed soldier said with a laugh, ' 'E can't bear to take 'is eyes off 'er, Sarge. Tell yer what 'is trouble is. 'E wants a go wiv her 'imself.'

The Sergeant shrugged and gave a grunt. ' If that's the case, I've nothing against his taking his turn with us. We're all made the same, aren't we? Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. That's what we fought for in the Revolution and share and share alike has always been my motto. Although,' he added, somewhat illogically, ' he'll have to pay us for letting him see the colour of her heels. How about it, Colonel? '