Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks by Bracebridge Hemyng (inspirational books for women .txt) 📖
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Taking advantage of the passage thus made, the other Englishmen rapidly followed their leader.
Thyra was led by the waiter and the diver, while Mole and Figgins mutually assisted each other.
It was amid shots falling like hail in every direction, and menaced by killing blows from heavy sabres that the retreat was made.
Thyra performed another act of heroism at this juncture.
A Turkish sergeant, on foot, fired straight at her as she passed.
By the width of scarce an inch, the bullet missed piercing her brain, but she answered it by a shot which sought and found the heart of the Turk, and he fell dead instantaneously.
In this way all the Englishmen got through the ranks of the foe and joined the chief.
The rest of the Arabs followed, but they had a hard task to do so, for the enemy now overwhelmingly outnumbered their reduced force.
But our friends were not to escape even thus easily.
The Turks made fresh and vigorous efforts, not only to prevent their retreat, but to effect their capture.
Seeing the peril they were in, Jack called to Thyra and said—
"My good girl, you have acted with heroic bravery, but our danger is now greater than ever, and you must quit this scene."
"Never, dear Jack, whilst you are imperilled," she firmly replied.
"But you can aid me more that way than by staying," he said. "Listen, yonder is the sea, not more than two miles off. There is an English ship in the bay; its gallant sailors will not fail to assist their countrymen in distress. Go to them at once, your steed is swiftest of all. Ride, ride for your life, dear girl."
Thyra needed no further urging.
"I will bring assistance to you," she cried, "or perish in the attempt."
She turned her steed, and was off in a minute at lightning speed.
On came the Turks, now headed by Abdullah, for his comrade, the captain of the guard, had been desperately wounded.
"We must capture them!" he cried to his men. "Forward, men; death or victory."
Jack and his men saw that resistance was useless against so overwhelming a force.
Flight was the only chance remaining to them.
Yet they could not give in without some attempt to punish their enemy.
Jack levelled his pistol at the vizier's head, but by a dexterous movement he avoided the shot.
"Yield, Christian dogs!" he thundered. "Yield to might and right, for your capture or death is inevitable."
"You do not know us Boys of England," cried Jack. "We may be taken dead, but while a breath of life remains, we will never surrender to black-hearted Turks."
The vizier answered by ordering his men to surround the Christians, which they did their best to accomplish.
But by an agile movement, Jack and his friends suddenly turned and galloped off.
It was not in the direction of the sea, for retreat was at present cut off that way, but across the desert that they fled.
"Forward!" cried Abdullah. "They must not escape us."
For a considerable time this chase continued, till the English, by "doubling" again, changed the direction of their flight, and made towards the sea.
Hope arose within their hearts, for they saw a considerable number of well-armed English sailors, led by Thyra, coming towards them.
A few minutes' galloping joined them with these welcome allies, and this reinforcement enabled Jack again to defy the Turks.
The latter drew rein, and stood for awhile in hesitation.
This unexpected turn of affairs evidently disconcerted them.
But ere their horses could be put in motion again, Jack and his party were upon them, backed by their new allies.
The impetuosity of their charge was for a moment irresistible.
They bore down all the Turks before them.
The Turkish troopers recoiled as from the flight of a rocket.
Jack rode on like a hero of old.
His hair streamed in the wind as he darted through the air on his noble Arab steed.
His eyes flashed fire, and struck awe into each foe that approached him.
But he soon found himself surrounded by his enemies. Abdullah, who was at their head, cast himself upon Jack. Their horses were driven on their haunches by the force of the shock.
Half a dozen sabres at once circled round Jack's head.
Abdullah made a lunge at him with his sword, which would have proved the death of Jack had not Harry Girdwood at that instant caught the thrust upon his arm.
Poor Harry! His devotion to his friend had cost him dear.
He reeled, and would have fallen from his saddle, probably trampled to death, had not Bogey, at the risk of his own life, caught him and led his horse apart from the thick of the battle.
Burning to avenge his friend, Jack struck with all his force at Abdullah's head.
The interpreter received the blow upon his sword, which, proving the stronger of the two, Jack's weapon snapped in the clash, and he was left weaponless.
He seemed, indeed, at the mercy of his pitiless foe.
Abdullah smiled a cruel smile as he again raised his sabre.
But that smile was his last.
A lance-head gleamed past Jack, and transfixed Abdullah through the chest, so that he was borne down among the trampling hoofs of the horses.
"Yah, yah; dat's one to me, Massa Jack," exclaimed Tinker, for he it was who had thus saved Jack's life.
Jack caught up Abdullah's sword, and, by a desperate charge, cut through the opposing Turks, now "demoralised" by the loss of their leader, and regained his Bedouin and English friends.
By this time the heat was very great.
The sky was like a dome of steel.
The sands of the desert burnt under the fierce sun.
The dust flew in clouds, save where the blood of the wounded and dying had soaked into the arid soil.
Taking advantage of the confusion that now reigned in the Turkish force, the English and Arabs made a last desperate effort to escape their foes.
With a yell of defiance, the fierce Bedouins, led by Kara-al-Zariel, dashed through the ranks of the enemy, dealing destruction right and left.
Taking advantage of the disconcerted state of the foe, Jack and his friends were enabled again to join their Arab allies, and the retreat of the whole party towards the shore began in good earnest.
They would soon have distanced their now exhausted foes, but ere the English vessel could be reached, another large body of Turks came up to the attack.
This force was led by no less a personage than the Pasha Ibrahim himself, whose fierce grey eyes glared beneath his shaggy brows at those who had slain his vizier.
Beside him rode the officer in command of his squadron, and another young man, in whom, although dressed in red fez and Turkish uniform, Jack recognised Herbert Murray.
He was attended by his servant Chivey, also dressed as a Turk.
They were all splendidly mounted; their horses fresh, and their troops well-disciplined.
As the two parties approached, the pasha's eyes were fixed upon Thyra.
"It is the Pearl of the Isles," he exclaimed, "who was stolen by these infidels from the harem. She shall yet be mine. One thousand piastres to the man who will capture her."
A dozen of his men instantly started in pursuit of Thyra, who was a little in advance of her companions.
Her beautiful Arab steed seemed to have taken a sudden fright, for it started off at lightning speed, independent of Thyra's attempts to turn him, for she wished to die or escape by the side of her companions.
Separated from them, and pursued by a dozen well-armed men, her position was indeed perilous.
The speed of her horse seemed her only chance.
But the noble creature had been very hard worked that day, and after the first "spurt," showed signs of exhaustion.
The Turks, upon their fresh and fleet steeds, began to gain upon her every minute.
At length she was at bay, resolved to die defending herself and defying her enemies.
She placed her lance in rest as the foremost Turk came up.
Despite his efforts to avoid the weapon, she thrust it through his shoulder.
He fell, desperately, if not mortally wounded, and full of rage at being defeated by a woman.
His nearest companion now faced the beautiful amazon, who rapidly drew her revolver—the one Jack had given her—and fired.
The ball took effect, for the Turk reeled in his saddle and fell to the ground, dead.
The others now approached.
But Thyra discharged one, two, three shots from her revolver, and the last killed the officer's horse, which staggered and fell, bringing the rider to the ground.
Thyra urged her steed again towards the sea.
Herbert Murray and Chivey now pressed forward, resolved to try and gain the pasha's reward and the glory of achieving her capture.
Away went Thyra on her gallant steed.
She was near the sea now.
The murmur of its waves upon the sands resounded in her ears.
The British cruiser was seen about a mile away in the offing, and on the shore stood about half a dozen sailors, taking charge of the boats in which the armed force had come ashore.
They were anxiously watching for their companions to return, and on perceiving Thyra's peril, two of them went to her assistance.
And they arrived not a moment too soon.
Herbert Murray had ridden up to her.
Grasping the bridle of her steed, he thought he had effected her capture.
But at this moment a voice beside him cried out in English—
"Hands off there, you lubber!"
This showed that Thyra's call for help had been heard and responded to.
Murray turned, and saw the two stalwart British tars standing beside Thyra.
"Look here," continued the sailor, "if you don't leave this here young lady alone, and be off instanter, we'll take you aboard and let our captain deal with you."
Herbert Murray looked around, and seeing that the sailors were in a position to carry out their threat, angrily relinquished the chase, and turning his horse, rode off with Chivey, who had not approached quite so near.
CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
END OF THE CONTEST—DEATH OF THYRA.
Thyra was securely protected by these gallant tars until the rest of the party came up, which was not long, for after a slight skirmish, Jack and his friends managed to cut through the new force of opposing Turks, and make their way towards the ship.
Ibrahim Pasha, enraged at being thus defied, still pressed on, followed by all his force, but they only arrived at the shore in time to see Jack and the others embarking in the boats.
He now had recourse to threats.
"In the name of His Imperial Majesty the Sultan," he said to the officer in command, "I command you to give up to me these Englishmen, who have escaped from justice."
"They are British subjects," returned the officer, "who have sought the protection of their flag."
"Shall British subjects commit crime and yet go free?" inquired Ibrahim.
"What crime have they committed?" asked the officer.
"Murder—the assassination of his highness, Moley Pasha."
"What evidence have you to show to connect them with his death?" asked the officer. "If you have but sufficient evidence, they shall be tried before a proper tribunal. Where the English flag floats, justice shall be done to all."
The pasha bit his lip.
He knew that his evidence against these Englishmen was very slight, being in fact only the assertion of Murray and Chivey, and that any mistake on his part would bring on political trouble that might be his ruin, so he began to draw in.
"At least," he said, "you can not refuse to give me back my own property, stolen from my palace."
"That's a reasonable request enough," answered the lieutenant. "Point out your property, and you shall have it."
"There it is," exclaimed Ibrahim, as he pointed to Thyra.
"That your property, eh?" said the astonished officer. "Well, a very nice property too. But how was she stolen?"
"Stolen from my harem by that son of Eblis!" cried the old pasha, pointing to Jack.
"Ah, young man, I see how it is," said the officer, gravely shaking his head; "you've been going it rather too fast, and brought on this trouble all on account of this Greek girl."
"It's a lie," cried Jack, looking fiercely at the pasha; "she never was stolen, and never did belong to that old coffee-coloured
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