' Dearest, he would not,' Roger replied. ' Sir Sidney Smith is a most chivalrous man. When he hears that a blackguard like Djezzar means to force you to marry him you may be sure he will give you his protection.'
' You are wrong,' she argued breathlessly. ' In time of war great Captains cannot afford to allow their actions to be governed by sentiment. Recall what happened in Cairo. The French then regarded the Turks as their allies. To appease the Viceroy, General Bonaparte returned me to him and dismissed you, although you were one of his favourite officers. In this case you would not have even that much in your favour. You'd be no more than an enemy officer who had given himself up. How could the Admiral refuse to send back to Djezzar a woman whom he has the Sultan's permission to marry? '
This was a possibility that had not occurred to Roger during the brief time since he had made his change of plan. The influence he could exert on Sir Sidney was very much greater than Zanthe knew. Even so, would it be sufficient to protect her? The British Commander must place the interests of his country before all else and, in this case, they were that, in order to inflict as much damage as possible on the French, Acre must be held for as long as human endeavours could hold it. A bitter quarrel with Djezzar might have disastrous results. The Pasha had a reputation not only for cruelty but also for treachery. Rather than sacrifice more men in desperate assaults, Bonaparte might be willing to negotiate with him and give him generous terms to surrender the city. Sir Sidney could not be expected to risk that for the sake of a woman.
As these thoughts were running through Roger's mind, Zanthe clung to his arm and implored him, ' Please! Please, my love, let us go to the French. Only with them will I be safe from Djezzar. If you take me to the English our escape will be in vain. You will have sacrificed yourself for me by becoming their prisoner and within two days at most I shall be in Djezzar's seraglio and at his mercy.'
' You are right, my sweet,' Roger admitted reluctantly, ' but it means exposing ourselves to much greater danger. We needs must pass through the battle zone before we can consider ourselves safe, and risk being shot at by the sentries on both sides.'
'1 am not frightened. You are so brave that I know you will get me through.'
Roger knew only too well that this was no question of bravery. Fie could only exercise the utmost caution and hope for luck. But now that he was again in danger his mind had become extraordinarily alert, and he knew that he could rely on those faculties of wariness, keen sight, swift decision and violent action which in the past had served him so well.
Placing her on his left so that his sword-arm was free, he said, ' We must walk forward at a natural pace. If you see anyone ahead of us just press my arm but do not speak. If anyone challenges us say that you are a midwife and that I am escorting you to a birth. Should we be attacked do not run away unless I tell you to.'
Heading towards the northern side of the city, they advanced for some two hundred yards alongside the wall of the palace until the wharf on their other side ended. In the narrow street beyond it two men stood talking, but they took no notice of Roger and Zanthe as they passed. A hundred yards further on they came upon the first rubble they had encountered. It was the remains of a house that had collapsed when a cannon ball had carried away one of the main beams. Scrambling over it, they entered a small square. Half a hundred soldiers of the garrison were lying or squatting there. Most of them were utterly exhausted after the day's fighting. It was necessary to pick a way among them, but only one or two wakeful ones muttered at them as they did so. On the far side of the square they entered another street, almost choked with rubble which in some places was fifteen feet high.
In a whisper Zanthe suggested trying another route, but Roger whispered back, ' No, where the way is fairly clear it is certain there will be squads of soldiers posted ready to resist a surprise night attack. No surprise could be achieved through a blocked street like this; so we are much less likely to run into an officer who'll demand to know where we're going, and there won't be any women about to give birth out here.'
Laboriously they climbed the mountain of fallen brick and charred woodwork, then stumbled across its uneven surface for some three hundred yards. Now and then they slipped or tripped and twice ran into rotting bodies. The stench was terrible and the rats, which had multiplied enormously during the siege, peered at them boldly with little, fiery eyes. Roger helped Zanth<5 as best he could but, as they could see only vaguely where they were putting their feet, both of them fell down several times. At length they scrambled down into an open space with trees in it. It must once have been a garden. There, with bruised knees and scratched hands, they sat down for some minutes to get back their breath.
When they went on again they moved cautiously from tree to tree, pausing in the deeper shadow cast by each to listen and peer forward. From near the far edge of the trees they could see against the night sky a huge ruin and, to the left of it, a row of broken arches. Zanthe whispered, ' That must be all that is left of the great north-east tower; beyond it is the Roman aqueduct.*
A moment later they caught the sound of footseps, so quickly crouched down behind a nearby bush. I proved to be a squad of troops emerging from one of the unblocked entrances to the city. Their boots kicking against fallen stones and bricks, they marched across to the right of the ruined tower. When they had passed, Roger and Zanthe set off towards the aqueduct. To reach it they had to cross another patch of rubble; but it was lighter there than it had been between the remains of houses in the wrecked street, so they got through it more easily. Beyond it rose the aqueduct.
Cautiously approaching the nearest arch, Roger looked through it. At the far end, leaning against the wall, barely a dozen feet away, stood a figure. It was a sentry, but he was keeping watch for anyone approaching the city and his back was turned. With Zanth6 behind him Roger tiptoed forward. The thought of killing a man taken unawares had always been repugnant to him, so he reversed his scimitar. At that moment the sentry sensed that there was someone behind him and half turned. Before he could do more Roger struck him hard on the head with the thick, back edge of the curved blade.
The man fell to his knees, but the thickness of his turban had saved him from being knocked senseless. He opened his mouth and there issued from it the beginnings of a shout. Springing past Roger with the swiftness of a panther, Zanthe buried a dagger in the man's neck, reducing his shout to a horrible gurgle.
It shook Roger to see a lovely girl of seventeen kill a man so ruthlessly, but he knew that standards were different in the East and life was held cheap. Moreover he realized that she had probably saved them from capture, so he commended her warmly for her swiftness and courage.
A hundred yards beyond the aqueduct lay the great wall, but that sector of it had been battered to pieces by Bonaparte's artillery. It was now no more than a long, high mound, composed of the earth in its interior and chunks of brickwork that had been its casing. Again they climbed until they were fifty feet above ground-level. As they neared the top of the ridge Roger went down on his hands and knees and whispered to Zanthe to be extra cautious, as he expected there would be an outer line of sentries posted here. In that he proved mistaken and they soon learned the reason.