“I’d like to meet this Lily.”
“Get in the queue behind me, skipper.”
Still laughing Ryder went back to his bridge and took the wheel from Bacheet. When he pushed the telegraph to ‘full ahead’, the this surged forward against the current.
“Twelve knots!” Ryder shouted gleefully. He felt a great weight slip from his shoulders. He was no longer a prisoner in the fever city of Khartoum. Once more all three thousand miles of the Nile belonged to him, his high road to freedom and fortune.
He pulled back the lever of the engine telegraph to ‘half ahead’ and kept on up the river; before he reached the next wide bend he had counted five head of sail, all heavily laden trading dhows coming down from the Abyssinian highlands to Omdurman. He turned across the flow, and ran swiftly back downstream. Then he shouted down the voice tube to the engine room: “Jock, come up here where we can talk.”
They leant on the bridge rail together. “After what happened at the compound yesterday, I am not taking any more chances. The mood of the people is ugly and dangerous. The city is crawling with agents and sympathizers of the Mahdi. They will know by morning that the this is seaworthy again. We must expect an attempt at sabotage. From here on, we must keep an armed guard on board twenty-four hours a day.”
“I was going to do that anyhow.” Jock nodded. “I’ve already moved my bed and duffel back on board, and I’ll be sleeping with a pistol under me mattress. My stokers will be taking turns at guard duties.”
“Excellent, Jock. But apart from that, as soon as it’s light enough I want you to move her from the harbour into the canal and tie her up at the jetty at the back gate of the compound. She’ll be much safer there, and easier to load.”
“You thinking about your ivory?” Jock asked.
“What else?” Ryder smiled. “But also I want to be able to make a run for it if things go wrong again. I’ll be waiting for you to bring the this up the canal at first light.”
‘“hat’s all that din?” Ryder had been woken by Bacheet hammering on the blockhouse door.
“One of the Egyptian officers is here with a message from Gordon Pasha,” Bacheet shouted back.
Ryder’s heart sank. No news from Chinese Gordon was ever good. He reached for his trousers and boots and pulled them on.
The Egyptian had two black eyes and a scabbed, swollen lower lip.
“What happened to you, Captain?” Ryder asked.
“There was a food riot at the arsenal when the general reduced the ration. I was hit in the face by a stone.”
“I’d heard that your troops shot twenty of the rioters.”
“That is not correct,” the officer said hotly. “To restore order, the general was forced to shoot only twelve.”
“How abstemious of him,” Ryder murmured.
“You also had trouble with the rioters, and were forced to shoot,” the captain added.
“Only two, but they killed one of my men first.” Ryder was relieved to have confirmation of the shooting at the arsenal: Gordon was no longer in a position to point the finger at him. “I understand that you have a message for me from Gordon Pasha.”
“The general wishes to see you at Mukran Fort as soon as possible. I am to escort you there. Will you please make ready to leave at once?”
Schoolboy being called to the headmaster’s study, Ryder thought wryly. He took his hat down from the peg on the wall. “Very well. I am ready.”
Gordon was at his usual station on the battlements of the fort. He was standing behind his telescope, peering downriver towards the Shabluka Gorge. Two brilliant coloured flags flew from the flagstaff of the watchtower. The red, white and black of Egypt was surmounted by the red, white and blue of the Union Flag of Great Britain.
Gordon straightened up and saw Ryder’s upturned face. “Those flags will be the first thing that the relief force sees when they come up the river. Then they will know that the city is still in our hands, and that we have withstood all the forces of evil and darkness.”
“And all the world will learn, General, what one Englishman alone and almost unaided has been able to achieve. It is a story that will be written large in the annals of Empire.” Ryder had meant it to be ironic, but somehow it did not come out that way. He was forced to admit, however reluctantly, that he admired this terrible little man. He could never feel the slightest affection for him, but he stood in awe of him.
Gordon raised a silver-grey eyebrow beneath which a cold blue eye glinted, acknowledging the barbed compliment from an adversary. “I am informed that you took your steamer out on trial last night, and that it was successful,” he stated crisply.
Ryder nodded cautiously. The old devil misses nothing, he thought. Now he found himself hating the man as strongly as ever.
“I hope that does not mean you are planning to sail away in her before the relief arrives?” Gordon asked.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Mr. Courtney, despite your mercenary instincts you have made, perhaps unwittingly, a significant contribution to the defence of my city. Your production of the foul-tasting but nutritious green-cake in itself has been of great assistance. You have other resources at your disposal that might save lives.” Gordon stared at him.
Ryder stared back into the sapphire eyes and replied, “Indeed, General, and I feel I have done as much as I can. However, I have a premonition that you will try to convince me otherwise.”
“I need you to remain in the city. I do not want to be forced to impound your vessel, but I shall not hesitate to do so if you defy me.”
“Ah!” Ryder nodded. “That is a compelling argument. May I suggest a compromise, General?”
“I am a reasonable man,” Gordon inclined his head, ‘and I am always ready to listen to good sense.”
That is not a widely held opinion, Ryder thought, but he replied evenly, “If I am able to deliver equal value, will you allow me to sail from Khartoum whenever I wish, with the cargo and passengers of-my own choice without restriction?”
“Ah, yes. I believe you have become friendly with David Benbrook’s daughters,” Gordon smiled bleakly, ‘and that you have several tons of ivory in your warehouse. Those would be your passengers and cargo, would they not?”
“David Benbrook and the three young ladies will be among those I shall invite to sail with me. I am certain that this would not be in conflict with your sense of chivalry.”
“What do you offer, sir, as your part of the bargain?”
“A minimum of ten tons of dhurra grain enough to feed the populace until the arrival of the relief force and forestall any further rioting. You will pay me twelve shillings a sack, in cash.”
Gordon’s face darkened. “I have always suspected that you had a hidden hoard of grain.”
“I have no secret hoard, but I will risk my ship and my life to obtain it for you. In return I want your word of honour as a gentleman and an officer of the Queen that on delivery to you of ten tons of dhurra you will pay me the agreed price and allow me to sail from Khartoum. I suggest that this is fair, and that you have nothing to lose by agreeing to it.”
Ryder had spread a black tarpaulin over the this’s white superstructure, and coated her hull above the waterline with black river mud. Using long bamboo poles they punted her quietly down the shallow canal to the open river. Under her camouflage she blended so well into the darkness, that even in the brilliant starlight she was almost invisible from any distance over a hundred yards. As she slid into the main current of the river and the long poles could no longer find the bottom, Ryder rang down to Jock in the engine room for ‘half ahead’. He turned upriver and cruised eastwards along the Blue Nile. He was deliberately avoiding the main branch of the White Nile, because the Dervish artillery batteries were all concentrated on the northern approaches. It was plain that by this time they were expecting the arrival of the British gunboats from that direction. However, in making these dispositions they had left the other branches of the river to the east and south unguarded. Until the Dervish realized this mistake the Intrepid this had the run of thousands of miles of river.
All the dhows coming down the Blue Nile would be Abyssinians. Like Ryder, they were just honest, hard- working traders, selling their grain to the highest bidders. Of course, it was to be regretted that their main
