Juhel had therefore some justification for saying to his uncles—
“It is fortunate that Kamylk Pasha did not choose an island in these parts to bury his fortune in.’
“It is fortunate—very fortunate,” said Antifer.
And his face grew quite pale at the thought that his islet might have emerged from a sea incessantly troubled by subterranean forces. Fortunately, the Gulf of Oman is guaranteed against eventualities of this sort; such commotions were unknown to it; and whatever the islet might be, it would be found in its place.
Passing Gozo and Malta, the Steersman headed straight for the Egyptian coast. Captain Chip made the land at Alexandria, and coasting along the network of mouths of the Nile, spreading out like a fan between Rosetta and Damietta, he was signalled off Port Said in the morning of the 7th of March.
The Suez Canal was then under construction; it was not opened until 1869; the steamer had consequently to stop at Port Said. Antifer and his companions left Captain Chip, with many expressions of gratitude for the way in which they had been treated on board, and next day started by train to Suez.
It was a pity that the Canal was not finished, as a trip along it would have much interested Juhel, and Tregomain might have fancied himself between the banks of the Rance; although the aspect of the Bitter Lakes and Ismailia is not as western as Dinan, and certainly more oriental than that of Dinard.
Would Antifer have taken much notice of these marvels? No; neither of those due to nature nor of those due to the genius of man. For him there existed in the whole world but one point, the island in the Gulf of Oman, his island, which like a bright metal button hypnotized his whole being.
And he would have taken as little notice of Suez, a town occupying so important a position in geographical nomenclature, had he not seen as he came out of the railway station a group of two men, one of whom greeted him with excessive salutes, while the other departed not from his oriental gravity. They were Ben Omar and Nazim.
CHAPTER XI.
Ben Omar and his clerk had kept the appointment. They had taken very good care not to miss it. For some days they had been at Suez, and the impatience with which they had expected Antifer may be guessed.
At a sign from Antifer, neither Juhel nor Tregomain took the slightest notice of them. The three continued their conversation as if nothing could distract their attention.
Ben Omar came forward in the obsequious attitude which was customary with him.
They seemed to be unconscious of his presence.
“At last, sir—” he ventured to say, in the most amiable tone he could manage.
Captain Antifer turned his head, looked at him, and positively did not seem to recognize him.
“Sir—it is I—it is I—” the notary repeated, as he bowed.
“Who—you?”
And this as much as to say, “Whatever can this escape from a mummy-box want with me?”
“But—it is I—Ben Omar—notary of Alexandria—do you not recollect?”
“Do we know this gentleman?” asked Antifer, winking at his companions, as he shifted the pebble from his right cheek to his left.
“I think I do,” said Tregomain, taking pity on the notary’s embarrassment. “It is Mr. Ben Omar, we once had the pleasure of meeting.”
“So it is—so it is—” replied Antifer, as if he had a distant recollection of him, a very distant recollection. “I remember, Ben Omar—Ben Omar!”
“That is it.”
“Ah! Well, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? But I have been waiting for you, Mr. Antifer.”
“Waiting for me?”
“Certainly. Have you forgotten? The appointment for us to meet at Suez?”
“Appointment?—and what for?” asked Antifer, in such a tone of surprise that the notary was completely taken aback.
“What for? Why, the will of Kamylk Pasha—the millions he left you—the island—”
“You meant to say my island, I believe!”
“Yes, your island. I see you are beginning to remember—and as the will imposed on me the obligation of—”
“I understand, Mr. Ben Omar. Good morning—good morning!”
And without another word, he shrugged his shoulders as an intimation for Juhel and the bargeman to follow him.
But as they were going away from the station the notary stopped them.
“Where are you going to stay at Suez?” he asked.
“In some hotel, I suppose,” replied Antifer.
“Will the hotel suit you where my clerk and I have put up?”
“Either that one or another: it does not matter! For the forty-eight hours we have to stay here—”
“Forty-eight hours?” asked Ben Omar, in a tone of evident uneasiness. “Have you not reached the end of your voyage?”
“Not the least in the world!” replied Antifer. “We have got another sea passage—”
“A sea passage!” exclaimed the notary, turning as pale as if a ship’s deck were oscillating beneath his feet.
“A sea passage, which, if you please, we will take on board the Oxus, which runs to Bombay—”
“Bombay!”
“And which starts from Suez the day after to-morrow. I advise you to take your passage in her, as your company is forced upon us—”
“Where then is this island?” asked the notary, with a gesture of despair.
“It is where it is, Mr. Ben Omar.”
And thereupon Antifer, followed by Juhel and Tregomain, walked into the nearest hotel, where their luggage—which was not extensive—was soon brought to them.
A minute afterwards, Ben Omar had rejoined Nazim, and an observer could not fail to have noticed that the so-called clerk gave him anything but a respectful welcome. Ah! If it had not been for that one per cent on those millions, and for the fear with which Saouk inspired him, how gladly he would have been quit of this legatee, and this will, and this island, in search of which he was to be trotted over land and sea.
Antifer was told that Suez was formerly called Soueys by the Arabs and Cleopatris by the Egyptians, but his only reply was, “As far as I am concerned, it makes no difference.”
It hardly occurred to this impatient personage to visit a few mosques—old buildings without anything special about them—two or three places, the most curious of which is the grain market, or to look at the house facing the sea where General Bonaparte lodged. But Juhel thought that the two days could not be better spent than in exploring this town of fifteen thousand inhabitants, the irregular wall of which is so miserably kept up. He and Tregomain spent their time in wandering about the streets and lanes, and exploring the roadstead, where five hundred ships can find good anchorage in from eight to ten fathoms, well sheltered from the north-north-west winds, which prevail all the year round.
Suez had a certain amount of oversea trade, even before the Canal was projected, thanks to the railway running to Cairo and Alexandria. By its position at the end of the Gulf which bears its name, it commands the Red