Chapter Thirty Four.
Fresh Gifts.
Fortunately for Frank’s plans the Emirs who led the late arrivals of forces took up their residence right at the other end of the city, outside which their savage followers were for the most part encamped, and in the various rides about the place which the young man had with his companion none of them were encountered, though men of another tribe were. For it was evident that forces were being mustered largely with Omdurman as a centre—a fact which gave strength to the rumours the Sheikh brought in daily that the combined English and Egyptian forces were steadily coming up the Nile.
But to Frank these rumours regarding the army were as if they did not exist. His whole being was concentrated upon the one aim—to obtain an interview with his brother; and a week had passed with this apparently as far off as ever.
The friends obtained a little information through Ibrahim, and, briefly condensed, it amounted to this: That Harry Frere—no longer kept in irons—was rather a favoured slave of the Emir he was with, but he was always jealously guarded, and constantly in close attendance upon his owner, having in charge the Emir’s horses and camels. But though Frank had seen him once more during a call which the Emir’s son had made upon the chief who had protected him on that special day, he had not been able to get half so near as before, and, to add to his misery, his brother had not once turned towards where Frank with throbbing breast strove for a glance.
Accident, however, often does more than the most carefully devised plans, and it was so here.
Pending the arrival of more savage troops, the Emir and his son spent a good deal of time in a kind of rough drilling of the powerful body of men who followed their standard, and it became quite a matter of course for Frank to accompany the young chief, who made him more and more a companion; but there were days when they rode about together, and as Frank grew more familiar with the city his Baggara companion willingly enough allowed him to select the way they went, and naturally enough Frank arranged that either in going or coming they should pass the friendly chiefs house.
It was easily managed, for Frank, who had naturally enough been pleased with the beautiful Arabian horse he rode, made this the excuse in a dumb way of displaying a deep interest in horses and camels, taking the young Emir about among their own, examining the Emir’s stud in his company, and finally contriving to make him understand that he wanted to see those belonging to his friend.
All happened more favourably than he could have anticipated, and as Frank’s companion readily joined in anything that seemed to please his friend, it came about that one day Frank found himself in the Emir’s place, inspecting the beautiful horses and camels which formed the chiefs principal wealth.
They were shown readily enough, the chief looking proud and pleased with the eager examination and satisfaction expressed by his visitors, having first one and then another saddled for the friends to try, though, while showing a smiling face and making much of the various noble-looking brutes, there was a weary sickness about the young man’s heart as he sought in vain for an opportunity to make himself known to the Emir’s slave. Meanwhile Harry led up horse after horse, saddled and unsaddled, even holding his brother’s stirrup, but never displaying the slightest emotion, when Frank was thrilling in every fibre as he made use of Harry’s hand and shoulder unnecessarily while mounting the kneeling camel which he had been holding when they first met.
It was something, that touch, and to be so near to his brother. A word would have been sufficient to make his presence known, but Frank dared not utter that word, for the Emir was there giving orders to his slave, and his companion was always close by, so that it was impossible to slip that tightly folded scrap of paper into the young officer’s hand. It only contained a few words, but they would have been enough if he could have given them with a word of warning to Harry not to look at the paper till they were gone.
“Cheer up! Friends are near.—Frank.”
That was all; and those words lay all through the visit ready to Frank’s hand, while with patient endurance his brother toiled away, coming and going with horse and camel, till the young Emir began to grow impatient and Frank dared not express a desire to see more, nor yet turn to look after the slave leading away the last horse.
But Frank felt that the visit was not in vain. He had gained something, and he said to himself if he could get to the Emir’s place some day alone and under some pretence about the horses, he might manage to have a word or two with the prisoner.
But what was the excuse to be?—Could he contrive to get there alone some day when the young Emir was away with his followers?
That seemed very doubtful, for twice of late when he had taken his men out upon the sandy plain away from the river he had invited and taken Frank with him, and the rides had been startling, for the young chief’s manner suggested that since their encounter with the dervishes he had some thought of making him one of his followers, a member of a wild troop of desert warriors.
Still Frank thought that there must be some way of compassing a meeting with his brother, one that would excite no suspicion, and one evening when he had been talking the matter over with his friends, and a score of ideas had been proposed, each of which possessed some failing spot and caused it to be thrown aside, the right thought came.
They were sitting together feeling rather despondent, and the Hakim as a last resource began to talk of the possibility of an appeal to the Emir to gain the liberty of the young English slave, but only to make Frank shake his head sadly.
“He would not do it,” said the young man, “and he will never part with us. See how the sufferers have been coming in these last three days.”
“Yes,” said the Hakim, with a droll look of perplexity in his countenance; “no sooner is one cured than another appears.”
“Yes, two,” said the professor; “we did not think you were coming out into the Soudan to find a tremendous practice waiting, and no pay.”
“But board and lodging, my dear Fred,” replied the doctor, smiling.
“Exactly, and certainly that is of the best. But by the way, have you quite done with Emir Röntgen?”
“Quite,” said the doctor. “Ibrahim told him that he was well off my hands this morning, and he scowled at me—well, I’ll be fair—he looked at me as seriously as he could, made me a stately bow, and went away.”
“These noble cut-throats pay their doctors’ bills very cheaply,” said the professor. “Hullo, Ibrahim, what is it?”
“The Emir, Excellency, to see the Hakim.”
“Advice gratis only in the morning,” said the professor gruffly. “Can’t send him back, I suppose. What’s the matter with him now?”
The explanation soon came, for their friend entered at once, followed by three of his men laden with something, and the next minute Ibrahim was busy at work interpreting the great chief’s speech, which was to the effect that his brother Emir thanked the Hakim for saving him from death by his skill, and begged that the great and wise doctor would accept the trifles that he sent by the hand of his friend. In addition, he said that if at any time the Hakim would change his home, there was one for him in his patient’s tribe, where all his people would live longer and be happier if they had so wise and learned a man in their midst.
“But tell the great Hakim,” continued the Emir, “that he must not think of leaving me and mine. That I look upon him as a young man might look upon his noble, learned brother, for he has saved my life and my son’s life, and given health and strength to hundreds who have come to ask his help.”
The fierce, rugged face of the Emir grew softer as he spoke these last words, and then drawing back he signed to two of the men to lay their loads at the Hakim’s feet, which they did, and then left the room.
“Tell the Hakim that this is from me for all that he has done for me and my son.”
At a sign the third man laid his burden upon the rug in front of the doctor, and passed out in turn, while bending down to take the latter’s hand the great chief held it for a few moments in silence, and then moved toward the door.
“Stop!” cried the doctor quickly. “Tell the Emir to stay that I may thank him, Ibrahim.”
The chief turned and shook his head.
“It is enough that the great Hakim will take my little gifts,” he said, and he gravely passed out of the room.
“Then they are grateful,” said the professor, “and I beg their pardon, both of them. What have they sent for you? Rich rugs and silk and muslins, I suppose, and—”
“Never mind them,” cried Frank in an excited whisper. “I have it now!”
“What?” said the doctor earnestly.
“The idea for getting near poor Hal.”
“Ah!” cried the professor, as excited as the speaker, for Frank’s manner carried conviction. “What is it?”
“A present to the young Emir’s friend for saving our lives.”
“But how’s that going to bring you into contact with poor Harry?”
“Like this,” whispered Frank eagerly. “He is proud of his horses and camels—this chief. I will give him the finest and most costly bit and bridle Ibrahim can buy in the bazaar.”
“But are such things to be bought in the city?”
“Oh, yes, plenty of them. Fine red or brown morocco, ornamented with silver or gold. You could get such a one, Ibrahim?”
“Oh, yes, Excellency, or a saddle either.”
“Yes,” said the professor, after a few moments’ thought. “Such a present would appeal to a man like that. Yes, Frank, I like that idea. You could stop and watch while the bridle was put on. Ibrahim must see about the gift at once.”
“Yes, Excellencies,” said the old man; “the words are good. To-morrow, then, I shall bring plenty for them to choose. But will not your Excellencies see now what the great Emir has brought?”
“No—yes,” said the Hakim. “We must not slight his gifts. Open them out.”
Sam was summoned, and costly rugs, pieces of richly woven stuffs, the finest cotton haïks and burnooses, were spread out before the friends, and they noticed that their Emir’s gift was far more costly than his friend’s. But one and all had another present in their vision, one that seemed to stand out real before Frank Frere all the time—a rich, well-stitched, red morocco head-stall and reins, ornamented with thick bosses and buckles of gold, and fitted with a silver bit; and that night when he slept the present was the main feature of one long-continued dream.
Chapter Thirty Five.
Frank’s Venture.
As Ibrahim had said, the task was easy, for the next morning, before the Hakim had commenced with his sick and wounded, one of the Soudanese harness-makers was at the palace gate with his men and a great white donkey heavily laden with admirable specimens of leather work, barbaric in style, but for the most part such as would have delighted anyone of artistic taste.
The various objects were brought in and spread before the Hakim; but Frank was disappointed, for there was no such bridle as he had designed in his mind’s eye—nothing so costly; and not one head-stall that was ornamented with gold. But in the end one was bought profusely decorated with heavy buckles and bosses of silver; the steel bit, too, had cheek pieces of the more precious metal, while to hang from beneath the neck of the steed that was to wear it, there was a large glistening ball of silver, from which streamed a great tuft of scarlet horsehair.
The maker asked many piastres for his work, but it was well worth the price, and his face shone with pleasure as Ibrahim stood solemnly, bag in hand, to count them out; and then the black cleared away his stock-in-trade and went off rejoicing.
“So far so good, Frank, my boy,” said the professor; “but how do you mean to get the present delivered?”
“By sheer daring,” said Frank quietly, “and this very day if the young Emir will only let me be at rest.”
“And how then?” asked the Hakim anxiously.
“The simplest way possible. I shall order through the guard the horse I ride to be brought round, and Ibrahim will saddle one of his camels to bear the bridle. Then I shall ride straight to the chief’s place, Ibrahim will interpret my signs, and I shall give the present myself. After that I shall ask to be allowed to harness the Emir’s favourite horse with my present. He is sure to consent, and it will go hard if I do not contrive to slip something into poor Harry’s hand or a few words into his ear.”
“Yes,” said the doctor, with energy; “and the simplicity of the business ought to ensure its success.”
“I begin to think it will,” said the professor, “if some of our Emir’s people do not stop you as you are going out.”
“I do not think they will,” said Frank quietly; “and I have a feeling of confidence upon me which makes me ready to say I shall succeed.”
The professor said nothing, but he looked very grave and glanced at Ibrahim, whose countenance was solemn in the extreme, while the Hakim seemed plunged in thought.
But they had to think of other things soon after, for there had been a fierce encounter at daybreak that morning, some miles from the city, for what reason the party did not know; but its results were the bringing of about a dozen wounded men on horse, donkey, and camel, to be carried into the tent-like booth in the grounds, where of late the Hakim had attended to his patients, and he and his assistants were as hard at work as they could be for hours.
“You have thought no more about that plan of yours,” said the professor anxiously, as the last wounded man was carried out after he had shown his thankfulness by kissing the Hakim’s hand.
“On the contrary,” said Frank, smiling, “I have thought of nothing else, seen nothing else but that bridle all the morning, and now I feel that I must have made plenty of mistakes.”
“But it will be too late to make arrangements now,” said the Hakim anxiously.
“There are none to make,” replied Frank. “Look here: there has been some serious fighting, of course, and I believe both the Emir and his son are away, or we should have seen them here.”
“It’s of no use to argue with you, Frank,” cried the professor pettishly. “You have an answer for everything. I’m sure you will be stopped.”
“Never mind,” said Frank. “I am going to try what a bold stroke will do. If I am turned back I must get leave through our young chief another day, and chance dropping a word in Harry’s ear.”
“I have done,” said the professor. “Try.”
Frank nodded, and signed to the old Sheikh to come to them.
He came, looking extra solemn and quiet.
“You will go to the head guard, Ibrahim, and tell him I want my horse as soon as it can be brought to the door.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“You will then saddle your best camel and spread upon it, so that they can be seen, this bit and bridle and trappings. If the guard asks where I am going you can tell him that I am going to take a present to the young chiefs friend.”
“Yes, Excellency. He will be sure to ask.”
“Good,” said Frank, and the old man went out without another word, while Frank coolly prepared for his short journey by putting on the rich robe that had been given to him, and buckling on his sword and knife, finishing off with a handsome turban of the kind the desert warriors wore.
“Here is Ibrahim back,” said the professor, as he saw the old man reappear before Frank was ready. “He is coming to say that you cannot have a horse.”
“But he has gone to get his camel ready all the same,” said Frank, smiling, and about a quarter of an hour later the Arab that Frank rode was led ambling up to the door of their quarters by one of the guard.
The young man turned to give his friends a calm, smiling look of triumph, as he walked towards the window to glance at his steed. The next moment his countenance fell. For he had seen the gate from where he stood, and there, as if ready to accompany him wherever he went alone, was the chief guard, already mounted, and behind them, ready too and well-armed, were half a dozen men.
“Ah!” said the doctor, with a sigh. “I feared there would be something like this.”
“Yes,” said the professor; “they have us safely, and do not mean to let us go.”
“The young chief must have left word,” said Frank bitterly, as he ground his teeth.
“Of course, then, you give it up now?” said the professor quickly.
“No,” said Frank firmly, “I am going to start—at once.”
The lips of both his friends parted as if to utter a protest, but there was something so determined in Frank’s eyes, so stern and set about the lines of his mouth, that they forbore, and the doctor spoke gently—
“Very well, Frank, lad,” he said gravely; “you have had far more experience among these people in the city than I have, and you know the need of caution. Take care; a slip may mean destruction now we have climbed so near the pinnacle of our hopes. I will say no more than this—Go, and Heaven protect you.”
“Yes,” said the professor earnestly, and he held out his hand.
Frank grasped it firmly, and that of the doctor, who took his left, all three standing silently for a few minutes.
Then Frank turned to go, but hesitated for a moment or two, for the professor was running his eye over him critically.
“What is it?” said the younger man.
“I was looking to see if there is anything about you that might raise suspicion.”
“Well?”
“Nothing, my lad. I have had years of dealings with the people, and I should never take you for anything but a native of the desert.”
Frank nodded, and was mute again, as he walked out and across the path to where his horse was waiting the beautiful animal whinnying softly in token of recognition, and stretching out its velvety muzzle for the caress that was always given and enjoyed. The next minute the rider was in the saddle, with the Arab tossing its head and ambling gently beneath him.
Chapter Thirty Six.
The Reaction.
Out by the gate in the dazzling sunshine sat Ibrahim upon his tall camel, the headgear for the present carefully arranged so as to make a brave show, and the seven mounted guards waiting for the Hakim’s learned slave, who bore the reputation now of being deeply versed in magic to such an extent that he could call down lightning from the skies and make it do his will. A horror this to the ignorant Soudanese, and something to make them tremble, but no exaggeration. For to us of this century who can send our messages to the other side of the earth and receive back answers in a few hours; talk with friends at a distance, and recognise their voices; receive their speeches, their songs, or the melodies of instruments impressed on wax, to reproduce whenever we please; these and scores of other such scientific marvels are but everyday matters of business, common trifles, though they dwarf many of the magic legends of the Arabian Nights.
Consequently the Hakim’s black slave was greeted with profound reverence by the Emir’s bodyguard as he rode out, stern and thoughtful, upon the mission which he felt to be the greatest of his life, and barely noted that his beautiful horse ambled along as if proud of this rider in the flowing white robes, and whose richly ornamented sword beat softly upon its flank.
Frank gave one glance back, however, to see that the Sheikh’s camel was pacing along a few yards behind, the thick, long, scarlet horsetail plume waving beneath the ungainly animal’s neck, while the seven horsemen rode, fiercely important, a few yards behind the Sheikh, each with his round bossed target and gleaming spears.
For one moment Frank thought of self, and how strange it all was that he, the young Englishman, accustomed to London and its ways, the student of chemistry, full of experimental lore, should be riding there in disguise, the Hakim’s slave and assistant—the favourite of a powerful Baggara Emir and his son—riding through the teeming crowds of that hive of horror, bloodshed, and misery, and those familiar with his appearance making way at once. It was all like a dream for a few moments, or as if he were reading with strong imagination some romantic work descriptive of a scene in the south and east. Then it was all real again—horribly real—and he rode gently on, thinking of the part he had to play, and wondering wildly whether he would have the nerve to go through all he had mentally planned, and whether if he were successful in getting alone with his brother, Harry would bear the announcement of there being help at hand.
“It all depends on me,” thought the adventurer, as he rode on, stern, and gazing straight before him, hardly conscious of the crowd through which he passed, or the whispers of the people who recognised the Hakim’s follower; for he was busy working out his plans and picturing the scene in which he was to play that critical part.
It might be that the lives of all would be at stake if he failed in carrying out what he had devised, and no wonder that his face grew more set, his eyes darker with thought, till, as it seemed to him, he found himself at the entrance to the chiefs enclosure and home, with the court dotted with horse and foot, camels tethered here and there, some standing dreamily munching, others crouched down with their long necks outstretched upon the sand, and their leaders and riders idling about, talking, playing games, or smoking, waiting till their masters needed them for some mission, perhaps to raid and plunder, or to join other bands upon some great movement instigated by Mahdi or Khalifa, whose steps would be marked in blood.
There was no hesitation. Frank rode boldly in, unquestioned, and not one of the many men scattered about ran to horse or camel, or grasped his weapons. It did not seem strange to them that the Hakim’s follower should ride in to see their chief, followed by a camel and seven of a friendly Emir’s bodyguard. What took their attention at once—they being men whose lives had been spent in company with the swift horses of the desert—were the bright, gaily ornamented trappings spread on the neck of Ibrahim’s fine camel, and a low murmur of satisfaction arose as they gazed at what was evidently a present for their lord.
Frank rode slowly across the wide, open court, with his eyes wandering wildly in search of his brother; but he was not visible, and he let them rest for a few moments upon the long, low, shed-like building into which he had seen him go at a former visit, that evidently being the place where the chiefs horses were stabled when he was in the city, the open heavens being their roof when halting among the wind-swept sands.
Frank drew rein close to the entrance, his guard halted a dozen yards in the rear, and Ibrahim, after urging his tall camel close behind, made the beast kneel down, and then dismounted, leaving the scarlet trappings full in view upon the animal’s back, before going forward to his master’s side, fully conscious that every movement was closely watched, and standing respectfully attent while the Hakim’s black follower made a few quick signs.
Ibrahim bowed low, and went up to the house, where a knot of armed men received him and listened to the message he delivered, one going in at once, and the old Sheikh waiting ceremoniously till his messenger came back and spoke. Then the old man returned as he came, to whisper to Frank, who nodded shortly and then sat motionless and stern, gazing straight at the door as if deep in thought and ignoring everything around.
He played his part well, knowing what a battery of keen eyes were directed at him, while horsemen, foot, and camel riders whispered and told those who did not know, of how this dumb black follower of the Hakim was nearly as great a prophet and doctor as his master, and how they had cured hundreds, from great chiefs dying of their wounds down to children going blind from the ophthalmic curse of the desert lands.
The murmur of this whispering and the loud, ceaseless buzz of the myriads of flies darting here and there over the sand and lighting again and again upon the superheated walls, when they were not torturing horse, camel and man, fell strangely upon Frank’s ears as he grew more calm, and his doubts and fears died out now that the step had been made, and he felt ready to wonder at the calmness and confidence he displayed.
The great trouble he had now was to master the intense desire to look round to see if the face he sought was gazing at him from some window or doorway, as curiously as were the rest, and he would have given anything to turn in his saddle and bring his eyes to bear in the search. But he had well determined upon his course of action: he sat rigidly in his place with his eyes fixed upon the doorway about which the chief’s followers were grouped, till there was a slight stir and the stern-looking warrior appeared, looking fierce and imperious, as he strode slowly out and acknowledged Frank’s haughty bow, when his countenance relaxed a little, but assuming ignorance of the present upon the camel, he advanced with open hand to greet his visitor, saying a few words of meaningless welcome.
Frank bowed again and turned slowly to the Sheikh, who bent low, and then in a few well-chosen words spoke of the intense grief felt by his master, the great help and chosen friend of the wonderful Hakim, of whose miraculous cures the noble Baggara chief must have heard.
There was a bow from that individual, and Ibrahim went on about his master and lord feeling now, of all times in his life, how painful it was that he, the learned young Hakim, could not thank his highness in words for the protection given to him when he was pursued by those degenerate sons of Shaitan. He would have liked to thank the Emir verbally, but as he could not do this he had come himself to ask his noble friend to accept a trifling gift, because he knew how great a lover he was of horses, and if he would condescend to accept the little present and place it upon his favourite steed it might bring his grateful friend sometimes before his eyes.
There was a piece of pantomime here. The Baggara chief looked puzzled, and when Ibrahim paused he looked up. Then he looked down, and had to ask the old Sheikh what he meant, being quite unable to notice what everyone else in the courtyard could see plainly, till it was almost touched.
Then, and then only, did he cast aside all his formal Arabic, Eastern stateliness and assume a rapturous expression, seizing one of the reins, examining it closely, raising the scarlet-dyed, drooping plume, touching the bit and broad band with its silver ornamentation, and uttering exclamations of delight the more impressive from their being to a great extent real, for the gift was a worthy one and such as any lover of a horse would appreciate.
Then followed a warm burst of thanks, and a request that the Hakim’s friend would descend and enter the house for refreshment.
The critical time was approaching, and Ibrahim, in answer to a grave nod of acquiescence from Frank, turned to the chief to say that nothing could please his master more, but he had a request to make. He, too, loved horses; he nearly worshipped the steed he rode.
The Emir smiled and nodded as if to say no wonder, as he patted and stroked the glossy satin skin of the beautiful little creature. Then he listened attentively for the explanation of the petition that he was to grant.
Ibrahim enlightened him at once.
It would give the Hakim’s friend as great joy as he had felt when by his help the Hakim had brought light back to the glazing eyes of one of the wounded Baggara chiefs, for his great desire was to see the bit and bridle upon the head and neck of one of his great friend’s noble chargers, so that he might note whether it suited the horse and looked as well as he wished.
The Baggara chief smiled pleasantly, and felt highly satisfied that he was not to give something more valuable in exchange. Then clapping his hands, a follower rode up and was despatched to the side building with a message; while Frank’s heart beat in a way which seemed to threaten suffocation.
It was hard work, but he sat unmoved, the chief talking, and the recipient of his words congratulating himself that he was not called upon to speak.
Finding that he was not understood, the Emir turned to Ibrahim to bid him say that the Hakim’s friend should have the finest barb in his stable bitted and bridled, and if he would descend and then mount and try the present himself in a ride round the enclosure, the gift would be rendered doubly valuable to its recipient.
The words had hardly been repeated in English to Frank when a film crossed his eyes like a yellow cloud, through which he saw his brother approaching, leading the chief’s magnificent, ready saddled charger by a leathern thong so that he had no need to touch the bridle which lay upon the beautiful arched neck.
For a moment or two Frank felt that his heart was sinking and that he would break down, while as he turned away his head he saw that the Sheikh had noted the change in his countenance, for he was gazing at him in horror.
Frank felt that all was over, when in an instant something happened which made a call upon him in another direction and gave him time to recover himself; for as his brother led out the chief’s charger, it caught sight of the strange horses gathered in the court and broke out with a loud neighing challenge, which Frank’s answered on the instant, reared up, and then made a bound open-mouthed to savage the challenging barb.
Here was the necessary call upon Frank’s nerve, and tightening his reins to retain the mastery over his steed, the beautiful Arab resented the check and began to kick and plunge furiously, calling forth all its rider’s skill to retain his seat; and it was not until after a couple of minutes’ hard fight, during which the horse seemed to have been smitten with a notion that the proper equine mode of progression was upon its hind legs, and the use of the fore was to strike out and fence, that it condescended to go on all fours, while even then it was only to gain impetus for a series of stag-like bounds and attempts to dash off in any direction that seemed open.
Frank had ridden fairly well at home, while during his stay with the Emir he had had plenty of opportunity for improvement, his companion having mounted him upon a splendid steed, and, being a wild and reckless rider himself, had gradually led Frank into thinking little of many a mad gallop out into the desert plain.
Hence it was that instead of feeling startled at this new development of vice on the part of his steed, the rider, as he grasped the fact that everyone was watching him as if in expectation of seeing him thrown, felt the blood flush to his cheeks in an angry fit of annoyance which made him grip his saddle with all his force, and set to work to regain the mastery over the excited beast.
For the next five minutes the latter darted here and there, seeming to grow more and more infuriated as it found its efforts vain, for it was bitted with a powerful curb, the sharp use of which checked it again and again, till finding its rider ready to meet it at every turn, it gave up the struggle as quickly as it had begun, settled down at once into a gentle amble in the extreme corner of the court, into which it had dashed, scattering half a dozen camels and looking as if it intended to attempt to leap a low tent and gain its liberty there.
The next minute Frank was riding quietly back, hot and flushed, but mentally composed, listening to a loud outburst of admiration as he passed group after group of the Emir’s horsemen, men who had, to use a common term, been almost born in the saddle.
As Frank reined up close to where the Sheikh and the Emir were standing, he saw that the old man’s face looked strangely mottled; but he had no chance of giving him an encouraging look, for the Emir advanced smilingly, and patted and made much of the Arab, turning directly to speak to Ibrahim.
“Tell the Hakim’s friend,” he said, “that he is mounted upon a horse as full of speed as the wind, and that he rides it as a brave man should.”
The words were interpreted, and Frank replied to them with a calm bending of his body, turning directly after to where his brother stood holding the chief’s horse, and finding that he could dare to look at him without being attacked by that horrible sense of emotion.
The chief then gave a haughty command or two, and the horse was led close up to Ibrahim’s camel, where it stood as if it were some beautiful piece of statuary, while its bit and bridle were removed and the present quickly adjusted to its head, Harry Frere taking up a hole or two here and there till a perfect adaptation was made, when as if proud of its new finery the noble charger tossed up its head, making the scarlet hanging plume float about in the glowing air, and then stood motionless with head erect. Once more there was a loud outburst from the chief’s assembled followers, and he stood looking as proud as the horse. Then he walked round it, giving it a caress or two, and finally signed to his slave to lead it nearer to Frank, whose heart once more began to beat hard as his brother obeyed, and the next minute stood so near that he could have leaned from his saddle and laid his hot hand upon the poor fellow’s shoulder.
Fortunately he was given no time to think, for the chief came alongside and signed to him to dismount.
Feeling as if it were all a dream from which he must awake the next moment, Frank threw himself lightly from his horse, handed the rein to the Sheikh, and then stood while the chief’s barb was led up to him, striving successfully not even to glance at the leader; but taking up the reins he thrust a foot into one stirrup, and sprang up, fully expecting a repetition of the battle through which he had already passed. But the beautiful creature stood perfectly still until the slave dropped back, and then, in response to the slight pressure of its strange rider’s heel, started off at a slow walk, Frank sitting up proudly, but breathing hard, for he was panting with excitement on finding that something which he had foreseen would be the case was just as he wished, for it had everything to do with the ruse he had planned.
A fresh burst of cries arose as the beautiful barb paced along past its master, then at a touch began to amble and curvet, tossing its beautiful head, while Frank gave and bent to its various motions, feeling perfectly at his ease, for the springy movements were delightful.
He passed the chief twice, and he could see that the Baggara looked as proud as a boy of his splendidly caparisoned horse. He saw, too, in one quick glance that his brother had gone back towards the shed-like place from which he had brought the mount, while the Emir’s followers had gathered to one side of the court, everyone taking the most profound interest in the equestrian display, while the other side of the court, opposite to the house near which the chief stood, was vacant.
Now was the time if the ruse was to be attempted, and Frank drew a deep breath as he advanced towards the Emir, while as he passed him he made a quick, hurried gesture to the assembled followers, waving his hand to them to give way and leave him room to have a gallop round the court, at the same moment pressing the barb’s sides so that it broke into a canter at once, careering along with the scarlet plume sweeping out, and once again there was a loud, eager cry.
Frank felt that he was riding well, and the horse sped along till the last of the mounted men were passed, and directly after he was riding along the vacant side of the court, on and on till he was about fifty yards from where his brother stood, and in full view of the Emir and his men, when in obedience to a light check the horse stopped short, falling back almost upon its haunches, and as all gazed wonderingly across at where the rider sat they saw him gesticulate angrily at the waiting slave, as if ordering him to approach.
Harry Frere ran to him at once, and Frank threw one leg out of the stirrup, pointing downward, and in dumb show bade him lengthen the stirrup leather, pointing out that he had been riding with his knees up towards his chin.
The Emir laughed to himself, and his followers smiled at the absurd way in which these strangers loved to ride, while one of the many officers laughingly pointed to the long stirrup of the visitor’s horse, but no one stirred; they only watched what was going on some thirty or forty yards away.
For it was simple in the extreme: Frank sat looking down haughtily, and his brother with deft fingers rapidly unbuckled and readjusted the stirrup leather, looking up once at the masterful black who could not speak but signified his commands with haughty looks and impatient signs.
It was all commonplace, and the spectators waited patiently, seeing the glance up of the slave, the trying of the left stirrup, and the impatient, imperious gesture to the man to adjust the other leather, the rider swinging himself round with his back to the Emir as the white slave darted under the horse’s neck and seized the right stirrup, his face hidden by the horse from every one in the court, while it was perfectly natural that the rider with his back to the Emir should bend down as if watching the alteration being made.
The next moment the obedient slave disobeyed, for a low, soft, impassioned voice said in English—
“For Heaven’s sake don’t start!”
He started violently, and began to tremble in every limb.
“Help is near at hand. Do what I say. Fall, have some accident, and be very bad. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes,” came in a hoarse, trembling voice.
“Then ask for the Hakim to save your life.”
“Yes, yes, but—but—who are you?”
“Hush! Quick! Alter that stirrup for your life!”
Harry Frere uttered a low groan, and his brother felt that he was about to swoon and fall. But he dared speak no more. The time had come to act, and with an angry gesture he rose up in his seat and threw his arm over as if to draw his sword and strike with the flat of the blade at the dilatory attendant who was so long. Then all was over, for the slave jumped back now the stirrup was lengthened, and stood with bent head and extended hands as the horse bounded off along the empty side of the court, Frank passing the chief at full gallop, pointing to the lengthened stirrups as he went, and then on and on at full speed to pass round the court again, seeing that his brother was standing near the opening of his shed, and as he passed he had ready and jerked towards him three or four bright piastres, without so much as turning his head.
The next minute he pulled up short by the Emir’s side, sprang from the horse, and threw the bridle to the nearest man, not daring to stay while his brother ran up to take the rein.
So it was that when the slave took charge of the horse Frank was with the Sheikh, mounting his own a dozen yards away, but was stopped by the Emir, who hurried up to him and seized upon Ibrahim to interpret his words of thanks for the present and for the admirable way in which he had taught his people how to ride. “But,” he said, with a peculiar, mocking smile, “they will be obstinate; they will not ride with long stirrups like the Hakim’s friend.”
And the next minute—
“Tell the Hakim’s friend that if he would learn to ride as we do, with the stirrups short, so that he could get a better hold of the saddle, he would be as fine a horseman as ever lived.”
Frank nodded and smiled, and signed that he was about to mount.
“Ask the Hakim’s friend to enter and partake of such poor fare as I can give,” protested the Emir; and upon the words being interpreted Frank shook his head, but pointed to his lips, signifying that he would drink.
The Emir clapped his hands, and as Frank turned he saw his brother passing out of sight, while from the house a couple of slaves came quickly, bearing brass vessels and cups.
The long, cool draught of some refreshing beverage was welcome to Frank’s parched throat, but he kept up the set smile upon his countenance, in spite of the agonising mental torture from which he suffered, and it was with a sigh of relief that at last he rode away, followed by a friendly shout from the party in the court, and reached the cool, darkened rooms of the Emir’s place feeling more dead than alive.
“Well,” asked his friends in a breath, as he threw himself upon the rug-covered angareb in his room, “did you succeed?”
“Ask Ibrahim,” he said. “I hardly dare to hope.”
They turned to the old Sheikh, who made a gesture with his hands.
“Excellencies,” he said, “I stood there with a knife as it were held at my throat all that dreadful time; but it was wonderful. How could he do it—how could he act like that?”
“Who can say?” said Frank, as his friends turned questioning eyes towards him. “I can’t talk now; I feel weak as a child. I only know I could not do it again to save my life.”
“But we are in agony to know,” said the doctor. “Pray try and tell us something of your plans.”
The appeal gave the young man strength, and he told all that had passed.
“But what will follow?” said the professor, whose voice trembled from the excitement he suffered. “Will Harry—can he carry out your plan?”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “He is as firm when put to the test as Frank here.”
“Ah!” groaned Frank; “firm? I am as weak as water now. I am trembling with the horrible thought that the chief saw through the subterfuge, for he smiled cruelly; and if he did—what of poor Harry’s life? I shall have slain him by what I did, for they have no mercy on an escaping slave.”
Chapter Thirty Seven.
The Breakdown.
There was a fresh patient for the Hakim in the morning.
He was awakened by Sam, whose face was full of consternation.
“Do get up and come to Mr Frank, sir,” he said in a hurried whisper.
Morris sat up at once.
“What is it?” he said in the calm, matter-of-fact way of a doctor who always feels that a sudden awakening means a call upon him for aid.
“I went to tell him it was time to rouse up, sir, and he began talking nonsense.”
“What do you mean?” said the doctor, dressing hurriedly.
“Called me a white-faced dog; and then ‘The stirrup,’ he says, ‘the stirrup: can’t you see it’s too short?’”
“Ah?” ejaculated the doctor.
“‘Stirrup?’ I says, ‘what stirrup, sir?’ and then he went on: ‘You English are not fit even for slaves. Be quick! Can’t you see that your lord and his friends are waiting to see me ride?’ he says, ‘and don’t defile those red reins with your dirty white hands!’ Of course I knew he was dreaming, and I shook him, but only made him burst out into a lot more stuff—telling me I was to fall ill and ask for the Hakim to cure me, and then we should be all together again. But that ain’t the worst of it, sir.”
“No? Then what is?” said the doctor, fastening up his long robe calmly.
“He’s quite off his head, sir, and his tongue’s running nineteen to the dozen. If you can’t stop it we shall have all the Emir’s people noticing it. Hadn’t you better pretend as you’ve cured him, sir, and made him speak? If you don’t we shall be having the cat let out of the bag, and all be scratched to death.”
“Let’s see, Samuel,” said the doctor quietly, and he followed his man into the next room, to find Frank talking wildly.
He seemed to recognise his friend directly, and caught him by the arm.
“Look here,” he said, “I have no time to advise you, Hal. Be thrown from a horse; cut your forehead, or your leg. Do something that they can see looks bad—something that will stain your white things with blood. They will believe it then, and beg that you may be taken to the Hakim.—Ah, what are you doing here? Why are you not curing the Baggara’s white slave?”
The doctor had taken his young friend’s wrist and laid a cool hand upon his burning, throbbing brow, with excellent effect, for Frank’s loud talking grew broken, then indistinct, and rapidly sank into a low, incoherent babbling, as he closed his eyes.
“Hah!” said Sam softly; “it’s wonderful, sir. To do that with just a touch of your hands. But what is it, sir? One of those horrible African fevers? ’Tain’t catching, is it?” he added excitedly.
“If you feel alarmed,” replied the doctor coldly, “keep away from the room. Mr Landon and I will nurse him.”
Sam turned upon him with a reproachful look.
“Likely, sir!” he said scornfully, and he bent over the angareb and began giving little touches to the pillow, making a point of passing his hand over Frank’s face and leaning quite close so as to feel his breath play upon his cheek, before laying a hand upon the sufferer’s. “I don’t care if it is ketching,” he said; “I’m not going to leave Master Frank in a hole like that. If I get it he’ll get better and help me. Breath’s hot, sir, but it don’t smell nasty and fevery. P’r’aps it’s only being too much in the sun, after all.”
“Thank you, Samuel,” said the doctor, in his quiet, grave way, and he patted the man gently on the shoulder.
“Thank me, sir?—Oh, here’s Mr Landon, sir.”
“Hullo, there!” said the professor, hurriedly entering; “what’s the matter? Don’t say Frank’s ill!”
“He is saying it for himself, my dear Fred,” replied the doctor. “You have had some experience of this sort of thing out here. Look at him. He is calmer now, but he was talking wildly at random a few minutes ago.”
“What! Oh! Saint George and the Dragon! he mustn’t begin to talk,” cried the professor excitedly. “That would spoil all.”
There was a pause while the professor bent over and examined the sufferer.
“Well,” he said, “I’m not a doctor, but my journeys out here made me dabble a bit, and quack over my own ailments and those of my followers when there was no medical man to be had. I don’t know, Robert, old friend, but I should say it was a touch of brain fever, consequent upon yesterday’s excitement in the sun.”
“Ah-h-h!” ejaculated Sam, with a sigh of relief.
“You be quiet,” said the professor sharply. Then turning to the doctor, “Well, what do you think?”
“The same as you do. Poor lad! His anxiety was horrible, and what he went through was enough to prostrate a man twice as strong.”
“But you don’t think he is going to be seriously ill?”
“I hope not. Stay here while I mix him a sedative. He must have sleep; and Sam, get ready cold water compresses for his head.”
“Cold water, sir?” said the man gravely.
“Well, a bowl of water, my man. I’ll bring in something to make it evaporate more quickly.”
The doctor went to where his case lay in a corner of his room, and rapidly prepared a sedative draught, took up a bottle, and returned to the professor, to find Sam waiting with bowl of water and cloths.
“He’s babbling about Harry and that plan of his,” said the professor.
“No wonder, poor fellow! Raise him up a little. I daresay he will drink this quietly enough.”
“One moment, sir,” said Sam hurriedly. “Me, please,” and with an eagerness evidently intended to fully disabuse the doctor’s mind of all doubts regarding his fear of infection, Sam went behind the head of the couch and carefully raised the sick man’s head and shoulders so that he could drink easily; and this he did with avidity.
The next minute the doctor had half emptied a bottle into the water, which gave forth a peculiar, pungent odour on Sam wringing out a handkerchief; and this was spread across the poor fellow’s temples and afterwards kept moist.
“Just at the most unlucky time,” said the professor, with a sigh, as they sat near, watching the patient, who had sunk into the desired sleep; “but we must make the best of it. Here, Sam, we must eat and drink whatever happens.”
“Breakfast is quite ready, sir,” was the reply; “but I haven’t seen anything of Mr Abrahams this morning.”
“Look here,” said the professor angrily, “if you call the Sheikh Abraham again I shall throw something at you. Ibrahim, once more,” he continued, spelling the name letter by letter.
“But that’s only his ignorant way of spelling it, sir,” protested Sam. “He told me himself it’s the same name as we read of. It’s Abra—ham, as I told him myself; but he only smiled at me as if he knew better.”
“Well, what about him?”
“He hasn’t been near, sir, and his young men—and one of them’s ten years older than me—say that he hasn’t been back since he went out last night.”
“Tut—tut—tut—tut!” said the doctor. “I hope he has not fallen into any trouble now.”
But before the breakfast was over—a meal that was interrupted twice by the doctor’s visits to the patient—Ibrahim came to the door, and was told to enter.
He looked sharply at the two gentlemen, and then at the door leading into Frank’s room, and back inquiringly at the doctor.
“Yes,” said the latter gravely; “he is ill, Ibrahim.”
“The heat of the sun and the dreadful trouble yesterday, Excellency,” said the old man excitedly. “I feared it. The heat made even me feel ill. But he will soon be better?”
“I hope so,” said the doctor; and the professor broke in—
“But what of yourself, Ibrahim? You have news?”
“Yes, Excellency. If you listen you can hear them coming.”
“Not the Egyptian Army?”
“No, no, Excellency, not yet. But spies keep coming in, all bringing the same news, that British forces are slowly and surely coming up the river to Khartoum, and the Khalifa is sending out his people to gather in more and more of the wild troops. They are crowding into the city and camping about outside. There will be war before long.”
“There must not be till we have escaped, Ibrahim,” said the professor. “We being respectable singing birds must not be caught in the net along with the black dervish daws.”
“If the British and Egyptians win the battle, Excellency,” said the Sheikh gravely. “We must not shut our eyes to the fact that these wild tribes are very brave, while the Egyptians—well, Excellency, we know that they have not made a very brave stand in the past.”
“But our British force will be up here in strength?”
“Yes, Excellency, and if it depended entirely upon them I should not fear.”
“Then you do fear?” said the doctor gravely.
“Hardly fear, Excellency, but I have my doubts, and I am troubled about our position in any case.”
“Why?” said the professor.
“I have been out all night gathering news from such of the people as I have made my friends. The city is being filled with wild and lawless tribes who have come to fight for the new Mahdi, and whose pay is the plunder that they can gather from anywhere. They are their own friends only, and think of nothing else but what your English officers call loot. Even so soon as this past night there has been murder and outrage with plundering in the lower parts of the city, and the better people here would take flight at once, for their lives are not safe, and their wives and daughters seem marked out at once for the slaves of these savage men. I tremble for our own fate, and would gladly call my men together and risk an escape this very night, before the country round is swarming with the new Mahdi’s people and we could not stir.”
“But you will not do this, Ibrahim? You will not forsake us when we are so near success?”
“Alas! Excellency, we have not won success as yet, though we have found the young Excellency’s brother.”
“Does that mean that you mean to escape and leave us?”
“His Excellency the great Hakim knows that I have sworn to be faithful even unto death,” said the old man proudly. “No, I will not leave you. I only speak out and tell you of our peril. If the prisoner we are trying to save were here I would say, Go this night. But he is not here, and our position is very bad.”
“What, with the doctor’s reputation spread as it is, and such friends about us as the Emirs?”
“The Emirs are but men, Excellency,” said the Sheikh, looking the professor full in the eyes. “They can do much with their own followers, but nothing with the wild beasts of murdering dervishes who would slay anyone for the handsome robe he wears, or to carry off his wife and children for slaves. The great Emir and his people are our friends, but alas! our Emir here, his son, and his son’s friend left Omdurman with all their forces last night for the north, to stay the British advance. We are here with only the twenty men of the Emir’s guard, while we shall soon be surrounded by thousands who have never heard of the Hakim’s name.”
“This is bad news indeed, O Sheikh,” said the professor, frowning.
“Bad tidings of the worst, Excellency, but it is true. These are the gleanings of the past night that I come with sorrowful heart to tell you. We have had much good of late, and my heart was glad last night as I saw that the young Excellency, Ben Eddin, would soon scheme that his brother should join us, and that then we would flee across the desert to the British camp; but now—”
“Well, Ibrahim; but now?” said the doctor sternly.
“Now, O Hakim, another sorrow meets me here: the young Excellency, Ben Eddin, is stricken down, and we have not rescued the prisoner slave as yet.”
“But you have some plans,” said the professor excitedly. “What do you propose to do?”
“Nothing as yet, Excellency. We must wait till the young Ben Eddin is well and we can bring his brother here. Till then we must be patient, and trust in God.”