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diff --git a/21768-0.txt b/21768-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2185a5c --- /dev/null +++ b/21768-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5515 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Desert Drama, by A. Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Desert Drama + Being The Tragedy Of The “Korosko” + +Author: A. Conan Doyle + +Illustrator: S. Paget + +Release Date: June 8, 2007 [EBook #21768] +Last Updated: March 6, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DESERT DRAMA *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +A DESERT DRAMA + +BEING + +The Tragedy of the _Korosko_ + +BY + +A. CONAN DOYLE + +WITH THIRTY-TWO FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY S. PAGET + +PHILADELPHIA + +J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 1898 + + +[Illustration: Frontispiece p78] + +[Illustration: Titlepage] + + +TO MY FRIEND JAMES PAYN IN TOKEN OF MY AFFECTION AND ESTEEM + + + + +PREFACE + +This book has been materially enlarged and altered since its appearance +in serial form + +A. Conan Doyle + +October 17, 1897 + + + + +A DESERT DRAMA + + + + +CHAPTER I + +The public may possibly wonder why it is that they have never heard in +the papers of the fate of the passengers of the __Korosko__. In these +days of universal press agencies, responsive to the slightest stimulus, +it may well seem incredible that an international incident of such +importance should remain so long unchronicled. Suffice it that there +were very valid reasons, both of a personal and political nature, for +holding it back. The facts were well known to a good number of people at +the time, and some version of them did actually appear in a provincial +paper, but was generally discredited. They have now been thrown into +narrative form, the incidents having been collated from the sworn +statements of Colonel Cochrane Cochrane, of the Army and Navy Club, +and from the letters of Miss Adams, of Boston, Mass. These have been +supplemented by the evidence of Captain Archer, of the Egyptian Camel +Corps, as given before the secret Government inquiry at Cairo. Mr. James +Stephens has refused to put his version of the matter into writing, +but as these proofs have been submitted to him, and no correction or +deletion has been made in them, it may be supposed that he has not +succeeded in detecting any grave misstatement of fact, and that any +objection which he may have to their publication depends rather upon +private and personal scruples. + +The __Korosko__, a turtle-bottomed, round-bowed stern-wheeler, with a +30-inch draught and the lines of a flat-iron, started upon the 13th +of February, in the year 1895, from Shellal, at the head of the first +cataract, bound for Wady Haifa. I have a passenger card for the trip, +which I hereby produce: + +S. W. “_Korosko_,” February 13TH. + +PASSENGERS. + + Colonel Cochrane Cochrane London + + Mr. Cecil Brown London + + John H. Headingly Boston, USA + + Miss Adams Boston, USA + + Miss S. Adams Worcester, Mass, USA + + Mons Fardet Paris + + Mr. and Mrs. Belmont Dublin + + James Stephens Manchester + + Rev. John Stuart Birmingham + + Mrs. Shlesinger, nurse and child Florence + + +This was the party as it started from Shellal with the intention of +travelling up the two hundred miles of Nubian Nile which lie between the +first and the second cataract. + +It is a singular country, this Nubia. Varying in breadth from a few +miles to as many yards (for the name is only applied to the narrow +portion which is capable of cultivation), it extends in a thin, green, +palm-fringed strip upon either side of the broad coffee-coloured river. +Beyond it there stretches on the Libyan bank a savage and illimitable +desert, extending to the whole breadth of Africa. On the other side +an equally desolate wilderness is bounded only by the distant Red Sea. +Between these two huge and barren expanses Nubia writhes like a green +sandworm along the course of the river. Here and there it disappears +altogether, and the Nile runs between black and sun-cracked hills, with +the orange drift-sand lying like glaciers in their valleys. Everywhere +one sees traces of vanished races and submerged civilisations. Grotesque +graves dot the hills or stand up against the sky-line: pyramidal graves, +tumulus graves, rock graves,--everywhere, graves. And, occasionally, +as the boat rounds a rocky point, one sees a deserted city up +above,--houses, walls, battlements, with the sun shining through the +empty window squares. Sometimes you learn that it has been Roman, +sometimes Egyptian, sometimes all record of its name or origin has been +absolutely lost, You ask yourself in amazement why any race should build +in so uncouth a solitude, and you find it difficult to accept the theory +that this has only been of value as a guard-house to the richer country +down below, and that these frequent cities have been so many fortresses +to hold off the wild and predatory men of the south. But whatever be +their explanation, be it a fierce neighbour, or be it a climatic change, +there they stand, these grim and silent cities, and up on the hills you +can see the graves of their people, like the port-holes of a man-of-war. +It is through this weird, dead country that the tourists smoke and +gossip and flirt as they pass up to the Egyptian frontier. + +The passengers of the _Korosko_ formed a merry party, for most of them +had travelled up together from Cairo to Assouan, and even Anglo-Saxon +ice thaws rapidly upon the Nile. They were fortunate in being without +the single disagreeable person who in these small boats is sufficient to +mar the enjoyment of the whole party. On a vessel which is little more +than a large steam launch, the bore, the cynic, or the grumbler holds +the company at his mercy. But the _Korosko_ was free from anything of +the kind. Colonel Cochrane Cochrane was one of those officers whom the +British Government, acting upon a large system of averages, declares at +a certain age to be incapable of further service, and who demonstrate +the worth of such a system by spending their declining years in +exploring Morocco, or shooting lions in Somaliland. He was a dark, +straight, aquiline man, with a courteously deferential manner, but +a steady, questioning eye; very neat in his dress and precise in +his habits, a gentleman to the tips of his trim fingernails. In his +Anglo-Saxon dislike to effusiveness he had cultivated a self-contained +manner which was apt at first acquaintance to be repellant, and he +seemed to those who really knew him to be at some pains to conceal +the kind heart and human emotions which influenced his actions. It +was respect rather than affection which he inspired among his +fellow-travellers, for they felt, like all who had ever met him, that +he was a man with whom acquaintance was unlikely to ripen into +a friendship, though a friendship when once attained would be an +unchanging and inseparable part of himself. He wore a grizzled military +moustache, but his hair was singularly black for a man of his years. He +made no allusion in his conversation to the numerous campaigns in which +he had distinguished himself, and the reason usually given for his +reticence was that they dated back to such early Victorian days that +he had to sacrifice his military glory at the shrine of his perennial +youth. + +Mr. Cecil Brown--to take the names in the chance order in which +they appear upon the passenger list--was a young diplomatist from a +Continental Embassy, a man slightly tainted with the Oxford manner, and +erring upon the side of unnatural and inhuman refinement, but full of +interesting talk and cultured thought. He had a sad, handsome face, a +small wax-tipped moustache, a low voice and a listless manner, which was +relieved by a charming habit of suddenly lighting up into a rapid smile +and gleam when anything caught his fancy. An acquired cynicism was +eternally crushing and overlying his natural youthful enthusiasms, and +he ignored what was obvious while expressing keen appreciation for what +seemed to the average man to be either trivial or unhealthy. He chose +Walter Pater for his travelling author, and sat all day, reserved but +affable, under the awning, with his novel and his sketch-book upon a +campstool beside him. His personal dignity prevented him from making +advances to others, but if they chose to address him, they found him a +courteous and amiable companion. + +The Americans formed a group by themselves. John H. Headingly was a New +Englander, a graduate of Harvard, who was completing his education by +a tour round the world. He stood for the best type of young +American,--quick, observant, serious, eager for knowledge, and fairly +free from prejudice, with a fine ballast of unsectarian but earnest +religious feeling, which held him steady amid all the sudden gusts of +youth. He had less of the appearance and more of the reality of culture +than the young Oxford diplomatist, for he had keener emotions though +less exact knowledge. Miss Adams and Miss Sadie Adams were aunt and +niece, the former a little, energetic, hard-featured Bostonian old-maid, +with a huge surplus of unused love behind her stern and swarthy +features. She had never been from home before, and she was now busy +upon the self-imposed task of bringing the East up to the standard of +Massachusetts. She had hardly landed in Egypt before she realised that +the country needed putting to rights, and since the conviction struck +her she had been very fully occupied. The saddle-galled donkeys, the +starved pariah dogs, the flies round the eyes of the babies, the naked +children, the importunate begging, the ragged, untidy women,--they were +all challenges to her conscience, and she plunged in bravely at her work +of reformation. As she could not speak a word of the language, however, +and was unable to make any of the delinquents understand what it was +that she wanted, her passage up the Nile left the immemorial East +very much as she had found it, but afforded a good deal of sympathetic +amusement to her fellow-travellers. No one enjoyed her efforts more than +her niece, Sadie, who shared with Mrs. Belmont the distinction of being +the most popular person upon the boat. She was very young,--fresh from +Smith College,--and she still possessed many both of the virtues and of +the faults of a child. She had the frankness, the trusting confidence, +the innocent straightforwardness, the high spirits, and also the +loquacity and the want of reverence. But even her faults caused +amusement, and if she had preserved many of the characteristics of +a clever child, she was none the less a tall and handsome woman, who +looked older than her years on account of that low curve of the hair +over the ears, and that fulness of bodice and skirt which Mr. Gibson has +either initiated or imitated. The whisk of those skirts, and the frank +incisive voice and pleasant, catching laugh were familiar and welcome +sounds on board of the _Korosko_. Even the rigid Colonel softened into +geniality, and the Oxford-bred diplomatist forgot to be unnatural with +Miss Sadie Adams as a companion. + +The other passengers may be dismissed more briefly. Some were +interesting, some neutral, and all amiable. Monsieur Fardet was a +good-natured but argumentative Frenchman, who held the most decided +views as to the deep machinations of Great Britain and the illegality +of her position in Egypt. Mr. Belmont was an iron-grey, sturdy Irishman, +famous as an astonishingly good long-range rifle-shot, who had carried +off nearly every prize which Wimbledon or Bisley had to offer. With him +was his wife, a very charming and refined woman, full of the pleasant +playfulness of her country. Mrs. Shiesinger was a middle-aged widow, +quiet and soothing, with her thoughts all taken up by her six-year-old +child, as a mother's thoughts are likely to be in a boat which has an +open rail for a bulwark. The Reverend John Stuart was a +Non-conformist minister from Birmingham,--either a Presbyterian or a +Congregationalist,--a man of immense stoutness, slow and torpid in his +ways, but blessed with a considerable fund of homely humour, which made +him, I am told, a very favourite preacher and an effective speaker from +advanced radical platforms. + +Finally, there was Mr. James Stephens, a Manchester solicitor (junior +partner of Hickson, Ward, and Stephens), who was travelling to shake off +the effects of an attack of influenza. Stephens was a man who, in the +course of thirty years, had worked himself up from cleaning the firm's +windows to managing its business. For most of that long time he had been +absolutely immersed in dry, technical work, living with the one idea of +satisfying old clients and attracting new ones, until his mind and soul +had become as formal and precise as the laws which he expounded. A fine +and sensitive nature was in danger of being as warped as a busy city +man's is liable to become. His work had become an engrained habit, and, +being a bachelor, he had hardly an interest in life to draw him away +from it, so that his soul was being gradually bricked up like the body +of a mediæval nun. But at last there came this kindly illness, and +Nature hustled James Stephens out of his groove, and sent him into the +broad world far away from roaring Manchester and his shelves full of +calf-skin authorities. At first he resented it deeply. Everything seemed +trivial to him compared to his own petty routine. But gradually his eyes +were opened, and he began dimly to see that it was his work which was +trivial when compared to this wonderful, varied, inexplicable world of +which he was so ignorant. Vaguely he realised that the interruption to +his career might be more important than the career itself. All sorts +of new interests took, possession of him; and the middle-aged lawyer +developed an after-glow of that youth which had been wasted among his +books. His character was too formed to admit of his being anything +but dry and precise in his ways, and a trifle pedantic in his mode of +speech; but he read and thought and observed, scoring his “Baedeker” + with underlinings and annotations as he had once done his “Prideaux's +Commentaries.” He had travelled up from Cairo with the party, and +had contracted a friendship with Miss Adams and her niece. The young +American girl, with her chatter, her audacity, and her constant flow of +high spirits, amused and interested him, and she in turn felt a mixture +of respect and of pity for his knowledge and his limitations. So they +became good friends, and people smiled to see his clouded face and her +sunny one bending over the same guide-book. + +The little _Korosko_ puffed and spluttered her way up the river, kicking +up the white water behind her, and making more noise and fuss over her +five knots an hour than an Atlantic liner on a record voyage. On deck, +under the thick awning, sat her little family of passengers, and every +few hours she eased down and sidled up to the bank to allow them to +visit one more of that innumerable succession of temples. The remains, +however, grow more modern as one ascends from Cairo, and travellers who +have sated themselves at Gizeh and Sakara with the contemplation of the +very oldest buildings which the hands of man have constructed, become +impatient of temples which are hardly older than the Christian era. +Ruins which would be gazed upon with wonder and veneration in any other +country are hardly noticed in Egypt. The tourists viewed with languid +interest the half-Greek art of the Nubian bas-reliefs; they climbed the +hill of _Korosko_ to see the sun rise over the savage Eastern desert; +they were moved to wonder by the great shrine of Abou-Simbel, where +some old race has hollowed out a mountain as if it were a cheese; +and, finally, upon the evening of the fourth day of their travels they +arrived at Wady Haifa, the frontier garrison town, some few hours after +they were due, on account of a small mishap in the engine-room. The +next morning was to be devoted to an expedition to the famous rock of +Abousir, from which a great view may be obtained of the second cataract. +At eight-thirty, as the passengers sat on deck after dinner, Mansoor, +the dragoman, half Copt half Syrian, came forward, according to the +nightly custom, to announce the programme for the morrow. + +“Ladies and gentlemen,” said he, plunging boldly into the rapid but +broken stream of his English, “to-morrow you will remember not to forget +to rise when the gong strikes you for to compress the journey before +twelve o'clock. Having arrived at the place where the donkeys expect us, +we shall ride five miles over the desert, passing a very fine temple of +Ammon-ra which dates itself from the eighteenth dynasty upon the way, +and so reach the celebrated pulpit rock of Abou-sir. The pulpit rock is +supposed to have been called so because it is a rock like a pulpit. +When you have reached it you will know that you are on the very edge of +civilisation, and that very little more will take you into the country +of the Dervishes, which will be obvious to you at the top. Having passed +the summit, you will perceive the full extremity of the second cataract, +embracing wild natural beauties of the most dreadful variety. Here all +very famous people carve their names,--and so you will carve your names +also.” + +[Illustration: So you will carve your names also p26] + +Mansoor waited expectantly for a titter, and bowed to it when it +arrived. “You will then return to Wady Haifa, and there remain two hours +to suspect (sp.) the Camel Corps, including the grooming of the beasts, +and the bazaar before returning, so I wish you a very happy good-night.” + There was a gleam of his white teeth in the lamplight, and then his +long, dark petticoats, his short English cover-coat, and his red +tarboosh vanished successively down the ladder. The low buzz of +conversation which had been suspended by his coming broke out anew. + +“I'm relying on you, Mr. Stephens, to tell me all about Abousir,” said +Miss Sadie Adams. “I do like to know what I am looking at right there at +the time, and not six hours afterwards in my state-room. I haven't got +Abou-Simbel and the wall pictures straight in my mind yet, though I saw +them yesterday.” + +“I never hope to keep up with it,” said her aunt. “When I am safe back +in Commonwealth Avenue, and there's no dragoman to hustle me around, +I'll have time to read about it all, and then I expect I shall begin +to enthuse and want to come right back again. But it's just too good of +you, Mr. Stephens, to try and keep us informed.” + +“I thought that you might wish precise information, and so I prepared a +small digest of the matter,” said Stephens, handing a slip of paper to +Miss Sadie. She looked at it in the light of the deck lamp, and broke +into her low, hearty laugh. + +“_Re_ Abousir,” she read; “now, what _do_ you mean by '_re_,' Mr. +Stephens? You put '_re_ Rameses the Second' on the last paper you gave +me.” + +“It is a habit I have acquired, Miss Sadie,” said Stephens; “it is the +custom in the legal profession when they make a memo.” + +“Make what, Mr. Stephens?” + +“A memo a memorandum, you know. We put _re_ so-and-so to show what it is +about.” + +“I suppose it's a good short way,” said Miss Sadie, “but it feels +queer somehow when applied to scenery or to dead Egyptian kings. '_Re_ +Cheops,'--doesn't that strike you as funny?” + +“No, I can't say that it does,” said Stephens. + +“I wonder if it is true that the English have less humour than the +Americans, or whether it's just another kind of humour,” said the girl. +She had a quiet, abstracted way of talking as if she were thinking +aloud. “I used to imagine they had less, and yet, when you come to +think of it, Dickens and Thackeray and Barrie, and so many other of the +humourists we admire most, are Britishers. Besides, I never in all my +days heard people laugh so hard as in that London theatre. There was a +man behind us, and every time he laughed auntie looked round to see if +a door had opened, he made such a draught. But you have some funny +expressions, Mr. Stephens!” + +“What else strikes you as funny, Miss Sadie?” + +“Well, when you sent me the temple ticket and the little map, you +began your letter, 'Enclosed, please find,' and then at the bottom, in +brackets, you had '2 enclo.'” + +“That is the usual form in business.” + +“Yes, in business,” said Sadie, demurely, and there was a silence. + +“There's one thing I wish,” remarked Miss Adams, in the hard, metallic +voice with which she disguised her softness of heart, “and that is, that +I could see the Legislature of this country and lay a few cold-drawn +facts in front of them, I'd make a platform of my own, Mr. Stephens, and +run a party on my ticket. A Bill for the compulsory use of eyewash would +be one of my planks, and another would be for the abolition of those +Yashmak veil things which turn a woman into a bale of cotton goods with +a pair of eyes looking out of it.” + +“I never could think why they wore them,” said Sadie; “until one day I +saw one with her veil lifted. Then I knew.” + +“They make me tired, those women,” cried Miss Adams, wrathfully. “One +might as well try to preach duty and decency and cleanliness to a line +of bolsters. Why, good land, it was only yesterday at Abou-Simbel, Mr. +Stephens, I was passing one of their houses,--if you can call a mud-pie +like that a house,--and I saw two of the children at the door with the +usual crust of flies round their eyes, and great holes in their poor +little blue gowns! So I got off my donkey, and I turned up my sleeves, +and I washed their faces well with my handkerchief, and sewed up the +rents,--for in this country I would as soon think of going ashore +without my needle-case as without my white umbrella, Mr. Stephens. Then +as I warmed on the job I got into the room,--such a room!--and I packed +the folks out of it, and I fairly did the chores as if I had been the +hired help. I've seen no more of that temple of Abou-Simbel than if I +had never left Boston; but, my sakes, I saw more dust and mess than +you would think they could crowd into a house the size of a Newport +bathing-hut. From the time I pinned up my skirt until I came out, with +my face the colour of that smoke-stack, wasn't more than an hour, or +maybe an hour and a half, but I had that house as clean and fresh as a +new pine-wood box. I had a _New York Herald_ with me, and I lined their +shelf with paper for them. Well, Mr. Stephens, when I had done washing +my hands outside, I came past the door again, and there were those two +children sitting on the stoop with their eyes full of flies, and all +just the same as ever, except that each had a little paper cap made out +of the _New York Herald_ upon his head. But, say, Sadie, it's going on +to ten o'clock, and tomorrow an early excursion.” + +“It's just too beautiful, this purple sky and the great silver stars,” + said Sadie. “Look at the silent desert and the black shadows of the +hills. It's grand, but it's terrible, too; and then when you think that +we really _are_, as that dragoman said just now, on the very end of +civilisation, and with nothing but savagery and bloodshed down there +where the Southern Cross is twinkling so prettily, why, it's like +standing on the beautiful edge of a live volcano.” + +“Shucks, Sadie, don't talk like that, child,” said the older woman, +nervously. “It's enough to scare any one to listen to you.” + +“Well, but don't you feel it yourself, Auntie? Look at that great desert +stretching away and away until it is lost in the shadows. Hear the sad +whisper of the wind across it! It's just the most solemn thing that ever +I saw in my life.” + +“I'm glad we've found something that will make you solemn, my dear,” + said her Aunt. “I've sometimes thought---- Sakes alive, what's that?” + +From somewhere amongst the hill shadows upon the other side of the river +there had risen a high shrill whimpering, rising and swelling, to end in +a long weary wail. + +“It's only a jackal, Miss Adams,” said Stephens. “I heard one when we +went out to see the Sphinx by moonlight.” + +But the American lady had risen, and her face showed that her nerves had +been ruffled. + +“If I had my time over again I wouldn't have come past Assouan,” said +she. “I can't think what possessed me to bring you all the way up here, +Sadie. Your mother will think that I am clean crazy, and I'd never dare +to look her in the eye if anything went wrong with us. I've seen all +I want to see of this river, and all I ask now is to be back at Cairo +again.” + +“Why, Auntie,” cried the girl, “it isn't like you to be faint-hearted.” + +“Well, I don't know how it is, Sadie, but I feel a bit unstrung, and +that beast caterwauling over yonder was just more than I could put up +with. There's one consolation, we are scheduled to be on our way home +to-morrow, after we've seen this one rock or temple, or whatever it is. +I'm full up of rocks and temples, Mr. Stephens. I shouldn't mope if I +never saw another. Come, Sadie! Good-night!” + +“Good-night! Good-night, Miss Adams!” and the two ladies passed down to +their cabins. + +Monsieur Fardet was chatting, in a subdued voice, with Headingly, the +young Harvard graduate, bending forward confidentially between the +whiffs of his cigarette. + +“Dervishes, Mister Headingly!” said he, speaking excellent English, but +separating his syllables as a Frenchman will. “There are no Dervishes. +They do not exist.” + +“Why, I thought the woods were full of them,” said the American. + +Monsieur Fardet glanced across to where the red core of Colonel +Cochrane's cigar was glowing through the darkness. + +“You are an American, and you do not like the English,” he whispered. +“It is perfectly comprehended upon the Continent that the Americans are +opposed to the English.” + +“Well,” said Headingly, with his slow, deliberate manner, “I won't say +that we have not our tiffs, and there are some of our people--mostly of +Irish stock--who are always mad with England; but the most of us have a +kindly thought for the mother country. You see, they may be aggravating +folk sometimes, but after all they are our _own_ folk, and we can't wipe +that off the slate.” + +“_Eh bien!_” said the Frenchman. “At least I can say to you what I could +not without offence say to these others. And I repeat that there _are_ +no Dervishes. They were an invention of Lord Cromer in the year 1885.” + +“You don't say!” cried Headingly. + +“It is well known in Paris, and has been exposed in _La Patrie_ and +other of our so well-informed papers.” + +“But this is colossal,” said Headingly. + +“Do you mean to tell me, Monsieur Fardet, that the siege of Khartoum and +the death of Gordon and the rest of it was just one great bluff?” + +“I will not deny that there was an emeute, but it was local, you +understand, and now long forgotten. Since then there has been profound +peace in the Soudan.” + +“But I have heard of raids, Monsieur Fardet, and I've read of battles, +too, when the Arabs tried to invade Egypt. It was only two days ago that +we passed Toski, where the dragoman said there had been a fight. Is that +all bluff also?” + +“Pah, my friend, you do not know the English. You look at them as you +see them with their pipes and their contented faces, and you say, 'Now, +these are good, simple folk who will never hurt any one.' But all the +time they are thinking and watching and planning. 'Here is Egypt weak,' +they cry. '_Allons!_' and down they swoop like a gull upon a crust. 'You +have no right there,' says the world. 'Come out of it!' But England has +already begun to tidy everything, just like the good Miss Adams when she +forces her way into the house of an Arab. 'Come out,' says the world. +'Certainly,' says England; 'just wait one little minute until I have +made everything nice and proper.' So the world waits for a year or so, +and then it says once again, 'Come out.' 'Just wait a little,' says +England; 'there is trouble at Khartoum, and when I have set that all +right I shall be very glad to come out.' So they wait until it is all +over, and then again they say, 'Come out.' 'How can I come out,' says +England, 'when there are still raids and battles going on? If we were +to leave, Egypt would be run over.' 'But there are no raids,' says the +world. 'Oh, are there not?' says England, and then within a week sure +enough the papers are full of some new raid of Dervishes. We are not all +blind, Mister Headingly. We understand very well how such things can be +done. A few Bedouins, a little backsheesh, some blank cartridges, and, +behold--a raid!” + +“Well, well,” said the American, “I'm glad to know the rights of this +business, for it has often puzzled me. But what does England get out of +it?” + +“She gets the country, monsieur.” + +“I see. You mean, for example, that there is a favourable tariff for +British goods?” + +“No, monsieur; it is the same for all.” + +“Well, then, she gives the contracts to Britishers?” + +“Precisely, monsieur.” + +“For example, the railroad that they are building right through the +country, the one that runs alongside the river, that would be a valuable +contract for the British?” + +Monsieur Fardet was an honest man, if an imaginative one. + +“It is a French company, monsieur, which holds the railway contract,” + said he. + +The American was puzzled. + +“They don't seem to get much for their trouble,” said he. “Still, of +course, there must be some indirect pull somewhere. For example, Egypt +no doubt has to pay and keep all those red-coats in Cairo.” + +“Egypt, monsieur! No, they are paid by England.” + +“Well, I suppose they know their own business best, but they seem to me +to take a great deal of trouble, and to get mighty little in exchange. +If they don't mind keeping order and guarding the frontier, with a +constant war against the Dervishes on their hands, I don't know why any +one should object. I suppose no one denies that the prosperity of the +country has increased enormously since they came. The revenue returns +show that. They tell me, also, that the poorer folks have justice, which +they never had before.” + +“What are they doing here at all?” cried the Frenchman, angrily. “Let +them go back to their island. We cannot have them all over the world.” + +“Well, certainly, to us Americans who live all in our own land it does +seem strange how you European nations are for ever slopping over into +some other country which was not meant for you. It's easy for us to +talk, of course, for we have still got room and to spare for all our +people. When we start pushing each other over the edge we shall have to +start annexing also. But at present just here in North Africa there is +Italy in Abyssinia, and England in Egypt, and France in Algiers----” + +“France!” cried Monsieur Fardet. “Algiers belongs to France. You laugh, +monsieur. I have the honour to wish you a very good-night.” He rose from +his seat, and walked off, rigid with outraged patriotism, to his cabin. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The young American hesitated for a little, debating in his mind whether +he should not go down and post up the daily record of his impressions +which he kept for his home-staying sister. But the cigars of Colonel +Cochrane and of Cecil Brown were still twinkling in the far corner of +the deck, and the student was acquisitive in the search of information. +He did not quite know how to lead up to the matter, but the Colonel very +soon did it for him. + +“Come on, Headingly,” said he, pushing a camp-stool in his direction. +“This is the place for an antidote. I see that Fardet has been pouring +politics into your ear.” + +“I can always recognise the confidential stoop of his shoulders when he +discusses _la haute politique_” said the dandy diplomatist. “But what +a sacrilege upon a night like this! What a nocturne in blue and silver +might be suggested by that moon rising above the desert. There is a +movement in one of Mendelssohn's songs which seems to embody it +all,--a sense of vastness, of repetition, the cry of the wind over an +interminable expanse. The subtler emotions which cannot be translated +into words are still to be hinted at by chords and harmonies.” + +“It seems wilder and more savage than ever to-night,” remarked the +American. “It gives me the same feeling of pitiless force that the +Atlantic does upon a cold, dark, winter day. Perhaps it is the knowledge +that we are right there on the very edge of any kind of law and +order. How far do you suppose that we are from any Dervishes, Colonel +Cochrane?” + +“Well, on the Arabian side,” said the Colonel, “we have the Egyptian +fortified camp of Sarras about forty miles to the south of us. Beyond +that are sixty miles of very wild country before you would come to the +Dervish post at Akasheh. On this other side, however, there is nothing +between us and them.” + +“Abousir is on this side, is it not?” + +“Yes. That is why the excursion to the Abousir Rock has been forbidden +for the last year. But things are quieter now.” + +“What is to prevent them from coming down on that side?” + +“Absolutely nothing,” said Cecil Brown, in his listless voice. + +“Nothing, except their fears. The coming, of course, would be absolutely +simple. The difficulty would lie in the return. They might find it hard +to get back if their camels were spent and the Haifa garrison with their +beasts fresh got on their track. They know it as well as we do, and it +has kept them from trying.” + +“It isn't safe to reckon upon a Dervish's fears,” remarked Brown. “We +must always bear in mind that they are not amenable to the same motives +as other people. Many of them are anxious to meet death, and all of +them are absolute, uncompromising believers in destiny. They exist as a +_reductio ad absurdum_ of all bigotry,--a proof of how surely it leads +towards blank barbarism.” + +“You think these people are a real menace to Egypt?” asked the American. +“There seems from what I have heard to be some difference of opinion +about it. Monsieur Fardet, for example, does not seem to think that the +danger is a very pressing one.” + +“I am not a rich man,” Colonel Cochrane answered, after a little pause, +“but I am prepared to lay all I am worth that within three years of +the British officers being withdrawn, the Dervishes would be upon the +Mediterranean. Where would the civilisation of Egypt be? where would the +hundreds of millions be which have been invested in this country? where +the monuments which all nations look upon as most precious memorials of +the past?” + +“Come now, Colonel,” cried Headingly, laughing, “surely you don't mean +that they would shift the pyramids?” + +“You cannot foretell what they would do. There is no iconoclast in the +world like an extreme Mohammedan. Last time they overran this country +they burned the Alexandrian library. You know that all representations +of the human features are against the letter of the Koran. A statue is +always an irreligious object in their eyes. What do these fellows care +for the sentiment of Europe? The more they could offend it the more +delighted they would be. Down would go the Sphinx, the Colossi, the +Statues of Abou-Simbel,--as the saints went down in England before +Cromwell's troopers.” + +“Well now,” said Headingly, in his slow, thoughtful fashion, “suppose I +grant you that the Dervishes could overrun Egypt, and suppose also that +you English are holding them out, what I'm never done asking is, what +reason have you for spending all these millions of dollars and the lives +of so many of your men? What do you get out of it, more than France +gets, or Germany, or any other country, that runs no risk and never lays +out a cent?” + +“There are a good many Englishmen who are asking themselves that +question,” remarked Cecil Brown. “It's my opinion that we have been the +policemen of the world long enough. We policed the seas for pirates and +slavers. Now we police the land for Dervishes and brigands and every +sort of danger to civilisation. There is never a mad priest or a witch +doctor, or a firebrand of any sort on this planet, who does not report +his appearance by sniping the nearest British officer. One tires of it +at last. If a Kurd breaks loose in Asia Minor, the world wants to know +why Great Britain does not keep him in order. If there is a military +mutiny in Egypt, or a Jehad in the Soudan, it is still Great Britain who +has to set it right. And all to an accompaniment of curses such as the +policeman gets when he seizes a ruffian among his pals. We get hard +knocks and no thanks, and why should we do it? Let Europe do its own +dirty work.” + +“Well,” said Colonel Cochrane, crossing his legs and leaning forward +with the decision of a man who has definite opinions, “I don't at all +agree with you, Brown, and I think that to advocate such a course is +to take a very limited view of our national duties. I think that behind +national interests and diplomacy and all that there lies a great guiding +force,--a Providence, in fact,--which is for ever getting the best out +of each nation and using it for the good of the whole. When a nation +ceases to respond, it is time that she went into hospital for a few +centuries, like Spain or Greece,--the virtue has gone out of her. A man +or a nation is not here upon this earth merely to do what is pleasant +and profitable. It is often called upon to carry out what is unpleasant +and unprofitable; but if it is obviously right, it is mere shirking not +to undertake it.” + +Headingly nodded approvingly. + +“Each has its own mission. Germany is predominant in abstract thought; +France in literature, art, and grace. But we and you,--for the +English-speakers are all in the same boat, however much the _New York +Sun_ may scream over it,--we and you have among our best men a higher +conception of moral sense and public duty than is to be found in any +other people. Now, these are the two qualities which are needed for +directing a weaker race. You can't help them by abstract thought or by +graceful art, but only by that moral sense which will hold the scales of +Justice even, and keep itself free from every taint of corruption. That +is how we rule India. We came there by a kind of natural law, like air +rushing into a vacuum. All over the world, against our direct interests +and our deliberate intentions, we are drawn into the same thing. And +it will happen to you also. The pressure of destiny will force you to +administer the whole of America from Mexico to the Horn.” + +Headingly whistled. + +“Our Jingoes would be pleased to hear you, Colonel Cochrane,” said he. +“They'd vote you into our Senate and make you one of the Committee on +Foreign Relations.” + +“The world is small, and it grows smaller every day. It's a single +organic body, and one spot of gangrene is enough to vitiate the +whole. There's no room upon it for dishonest, defaulting, tyrannical, +irresponsible Governments. As long as they exist they will always be +centres of trouble and of danger. But there are many races which appear +to be so incapable of improvement that we can never hope to get a good +Government out of them. What is to be done, then? The former device of +Providence in such a case was extermination by some more virile stock. +An Attila or a Tamerlane pruned off the weaker branch. Now, we have a +more merciful substitution of rulers, or even of mere advice from a more +advanced race. That is the case with the Central Asian Khanates and with +the protected States of India. If the work has to be done, and if we are +the best fitted for the work, then I think that it would be a cowardice +and a crime to shirk it.” + +“But who is to decide whether it is a fitting case for your +interference?” objected the American. “A predatory country could grab +every other land in the world upon such a pretext.” + +“Events--inexorable, inevitable events--will decide it. Take this +Egyptian business as an example. In 1881 there was nothing in this world +further from the minds of our people than any interference with Egypt; +and yet 1882 left us in possession of the country. There was never any +choice in the chain of events. A massacre in the streets of Alexandria, +and the mounting of guns to drive out our fleet--which was there, you +understand, in fulfilment of solemn treaty obligations--led to the +bombardment. The bombardment led to a landing to save the city from +destruction. The landing caused an extension of operations--and here we +are, with the country upon our hands. At the time of trouble we begged +and implored the French or any one else to come and help us to set the +thing to rights, but they all deserted us when there was work to be +done, though they are ready enough to scold and to impede us now. When +we tried to get out of it, up came this wild Dervish movement, and we +had to sit tighter than ever. We never wanted the task; but, now that it +has come, we must put it through in a workmanlike manner. We've brought +justice into the country, and purity of administration, and protection +for the poor man. It has made more advance in the last twelve years than +since the Moslem invasion in the seventh century. Except the pay of a +couple of hundred men, who spend their money in the country, England has +neither directly nor indirectly made a shilling out of it, and I +don't believe you will find in history a more successful and more +disinterested bit of work.” + +Headingly puffed thoughtfully at his cigarette. + +“There is a house near ours, down on the Back Bay at Boston, which just +ruins the whole prospect,” said he. “It has old chairs littered about +the stoop, and the shingles are loose, and the garden runs wild; but I +don't know that the neighbours are exactly justified in rushing in, and +stamping around, and running the thing on their own lines.” + +“Not if it were on fire?” asked the Colonel. + +Headingly laughed, and rose from his camp-stool. + +“Well, it doesn't come within the provisions of the Monroe Doctrine, +Colonel,” said he. “I'm beginning to think, that modern Egypt is every +bit as interesting as ancient, and that Rameses the Second wasn't the +last live man in the country.” + +The two Englishmen rose and yawned. + +“Yes, it's a whimsical freak of fortune which has sent men from a little +island in the Atlantic to administer the land of the Pharaohs. We shall +pass away and never leave a trace among the successive races who have +held the country, for it is an Anglo-Saxon custom to write their deeds +upon rocks. I dare say that the remains of a Cairo drainage system will +be our most permanent record, unless they prove a thousand years hence +that it was the work of the Hyksos kings,” remarked Cecil Brown. “But +here is the shore party come back.” + +Down below they could hear the mellow Irish accents of Mrs. Belmont and +the deep voice of her husband, the iron-grey rifleshot. Mr. Stuart, the +fat Birmingham clergyman, was thrashing out a question of piastres +with a noisy donkey-boy, and the others were joining in with chaff and +advice. Then the hubbub died away, the party from above came down the +ladder, there were “good-nights,” the shutting of doors, and the little +steamer lay silent, dark, and motionless in the shadow of the high Haifa +bank. And beyond this one point of civilisation and of comfort there +lay the limitless, savage, unchangeable desert, straw-coloured and +dream-like in the moonlight, mottled over with the black shadows of the +hills. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +“Stoppa! Backa!” cried the native pilot to the European engineer. + +The bluff bows of the stern-wheeler had squelched into the soft brown +mud, and the current had swept the boat alongside the bank. The long +gangway was thrown across, and the six tall soldiers of the Soudanese +escort filed along it, their light-blue, gold-trimmed zouave uniforms +and their jaunty yellow and red forage caps showing up bravely in the +clear morning light. + +[Illustration: The Soudanese escort filed along p54] + +Above them, on the top of the bank, was ranged the line of donkeys, and +the air was full of the clamour of the boys. In shrill, strident voices +each was crying out the virtues of his own beast, and abusing that of +his neighbour. + +Colonel Cochrane and Mr. Belmont stood together in the bows, each +wearing the broad white puggareed hat of the tourist. Miss Adams and her +niece leaned against the rail beside them. + +“Sorry your wife isn't coming, Belmont,” said the Colonel. + +“I think she had a touch of the sun yesterday. Her head aches very +badly.” + +His voice was strong and thick like his figure. + +“I should stay to keep her company, Mr. Belmont,” said the little +American old maid; “but I learn that Mrs. Shlesinger finds the ride too +long for her, and has some letters which she must mail to-day, so Mrs. +Belmont will not be lonesome.” + +“You're very good, Miss Adams. We shall be back, you know, by two +o'clock.” + +“Is that certain?” + +“It must be certain, for we are taking no lunch with us, and we shall be +famished by then.” + +“Yes, I expect we shall be ready for a hock and seltzer, at any rate,” + said the Colonel. “This desert dust gives a flavour to the worst wine.” + +“Now, ladies and gentlemen!” cried Mansoor, the dragoman, moving +forward with something of the priest in his flowing garments and smooth, +clean-shaven face. “We must start early that we may return before the +meridial heat of the weather.” He ran his dark eyes over the little +group of his tourists with a paternal expression. “You take your green +glasses, Miss Adams, for glare very great out in the desert. Ah, Mr. +Stuart, I set aside very fine donkey for you,--prize donkey, sir, always +put aside for the gentleman of most weight. Never mind to take your +monument ticket to-day. Now, ladies and gentlemen, if _you_ please!” + +Like a grotesque frieze the party moved one by one along the plank +gangway and up the brown crumbling bank. Mr. Stephens led them, a thin, +dry, serious figure, in an English straw hat. His red “Baedeker” gleamed +under his arm, and in one hand he held a little paper of notes, as if it +were a brief. He took Miss Sadie by one arm and her aunt by the other +as they toiled up the bank, and the young girl's laughter rang frank +and clear in the morning air as “Baedeker” came fluttering down at their +feet. Mr. Belmont and Colonel Cochrane followed, the brims of their +sun-hats touching as they discussed the relative advantages of the +Mauser, the Lebel, and the Lee-Metford. Behind them walked Cecil Brown, +listless, cynical, self-contained. The fat clergyman puffed slowly up +the bank, with many gasping witticisms at his own defects. “I'm one of +those men who carry everything before them,” said he, glancing ruefully +at his rotundity, and chuckling wheezily at his own little joke. Last +of all came Headingly, slight and tall, with the student stoop about his +shoulders, and Fardet, the good-natured, fussy, argumentative Parisian. + +“You see we have an escort to-day,” he whispered to his companion. + +“So I observed.” + +“Pah!” cried the Frenchman, throwing out his arms in derision; “as well +have an escort from Paris to Versailles. This is all part of the play, +Monsieur Headingly. It deceives no one, but it is part of the play. + +_Pourquoi ces drôles de militaires, dragoman, hein?_” + +It was the dragoman's _rôle_ to be all things to all men, so he looked +cautiously round before he answered to make sure that the English were +mounted and out of earshot. + +“_C'est ridicule, monsieur!_” said he, shrugging his fat shoulders. +“_Mais que voulez-vous? C'est l'ordre officiel Egyptien._” + +“_Egyptien! Pah, Anglais, Anglais--toujours Anglais!_” cried the angry +Frenchman. + +The frieze now was more grotesque than ever, but had changed suddenly to +an equestrian one, sharply outlined against the deep-blue Egyptian sky. +Those who have never ridden before have to ride in Egypt, and when the +donkeys break into a canter, and the Nile Irregulars are at full charge, +such a scene of flying veils, clutching hands, huddled swaying figures, +and anxious faces is nowhere to be seen. Belmont, his square figure +balanced upon a small white donkey, was waving his hat to his wife, who +had come out upon the saloon-deck of the _Korosko_. Cochrane sat very +erect with a stiff military seat, hands low, head high, and heels down, +while beside him rode the young Oxford man, looking about him with +drooping eyelids as if he thought the desert hardly respectable, and had +his doubts about the Universe. Behind them the whole party was +strung along the bank in varying stages of jolting and discomfort, a +brown-faced, noisy donkey-boy running after each donkey. Looking back, +they could see the little lead-coloured stern-wheeler, with the gleam of +Mrs. Belmont's handkerchief from the deck. Beyond ran the broad, brown +river, winding down in long curves to where, five miles off, the square, +white block-houses upon the black, ragged hills marked the outskirts of +Wady Haifa, which had been their starting-point that morning. + +“Isn't it just too lovely for anything?” cried Sadie, joyously. “I've +got a donkey that runs on casters, and the saddle is just elegant. Did +you ever see anything so cunning as these beads and things round his +neck? You must make a memo, _re_ donkey, Mr. Stephens. Isn't that +correct legal English?” + +Stephens looked at the pretty, animated, boyish face looking up at +him from under the coquettish straw hat, and he wished that he had the +courage to tell her in her own language that she was just too sweet for +anything. But he feared above all things lest he should offend her, +and so put an end to their present pleasant intimacy. So his compliment +dwindled into a smile. + +“You look very happy,” said he. + +“Well, who could help feeling good with this dry, clear air, and the +blue sky and the crisp, yellow sand, and a superb donkey to carry you. +I've just got everything in the world to make me happy.” + +“Everything?” + +“Well, everything that I have any use for just now.” + +“I suppose you never know what it is to be sad?” + +“Oh, when I _am_ miserable I am just too miserable for words. I've sat +and cried for days and days at Smith's College, and the other girls were +just crazy to know what I was crying about, and guessing what the reason +was that I wouldn't tell, when all the time the real true reason was +that I didn't know myself. You know how it comes like a great dark +shadow over you, and you don't know why or wherefore, but you've just +got to settle down to it and be miserable.” + +“But you never had any real cause?” + +“No, Mr. Stephens, I've had such a good time all my life, that I don't +think, when I look back, that I ever had any real cause for sorrow.” + +“Well, Miss Sadie, I hope with all my heart that you will be able to +say the same when you are the same age as your Aunt. Surely I hear her +calling!” + +“I wish, Mr. Stephens, you would strike my donkey-boy with your whip +if he hits the donkey again,” cried Miss Adams, jogging up on a high, +raw-Boned beast. “Hi, dragoman, Mansoor, you tell this boy that I won't +have the animals ill used, and that he ought to be ashamed of himself. +Yes, you little rascal, you ought! He's grinning at me like an +advertisement for a tooth paste. Do you think, Mr. Stephens, that if I +were to knit that black soldier a pair of woollen stockings he would be +allowed to wear them? The poor creature has bandages round his legs.” + +“Those are his putties, Miss Adams,” said Colonel Cochrane, looking back +at her. “We have found in India that they are the best support to the +leg in marching. They are very much better than any stocking.” + +“Well, you don't say! They remind me mostly of a sick horse. But it's +elegant to have the soldiers with us, though Monsieur Fardet tells me +there's nothing for us to be scared about.” + +“That is only my opinion, Miss Adams,” said the Frenchman, hastily. “It +may be that Colonel Cochrane thinks otherwise.” + +“It is Monsieur Fardet's opinion against that of the officers who have +the responsibility of caring for the safety of the frontier,” said the +Colonel, coldly. “At least we will all agree that they have the effect +of making the scene very much more picturesque.” + +The desert upon their right lay in long curves of sand, like the dunes +which might have fringed some forgotten primeval sea. Topping them they +could see the black, craggy summits of the curious volcanic hills which +rise upon the Libyan side. On the crest of the low sand-hills they would +catch a glimpse every now and then of a tall, sky-blue soldier, walking +swiftly, his rifle at the trail. For a moment the lank, warlike figure +would be sharply silhouetted against the sky. Then he would dip into a +hollow and disappear, while some hundred yards off another would show +for an instant and vanish. + +“Wherever are they raised?” asked Sadie, watching the moving figures. +“They look to me just about the same tint as the hotel boys in the +States.” + +“I thought some question might arise about them,” said Mr. Stephens, who +was never so happy as when he could anticipate some wish of the pretty +American. “I made one or two references this morning in the ship's +library. Here it is--_re_--that's to say, about black soldiers. I have +it on my notes that they are from the 10th Soudanese battalion of the +Egyptian army. They are recruited from the Dinkas and the Shilluks--two +negroid tribes living to the south of the Dervish country, near the +Equator.” + +“How can the recruits come through the Dervishes, then?” asked +Headingly, sharply. + +“I dare say there is no such very great difficulty over that,” said +Monsieur Fardet, with a wink at the American. + +“The older men are the remains of the old black battalions. Some of them +served with Gordon at Khartoum and have his medal to show. The others +are many of them deserters from the Mahdi's army,” said the Colonel. + +“Well, so long as they are not wanted, they look right elegant in those +blue jackets,” Miss Adams observed. “But if there was any trouble, I +guess we would wish they were less ornamental and a bit whiter.” + +“I am not so sure of that, Miss Adams,” said the Colonel. “I have seen +these fellows in the field, and I assure you that I have the utmost +confidence in their steadiness.” + +“Well, I'll take your word without trying,” said Miss Adams, with a +decision which made every one smile. + +So far their road had lain along the side of the river, which was +swirling down upon their left hand deep and strong from the cataracts +above. Here and there the rush of the current was broken by a black +shining boulder over which the foam was spouting. Higher up they could +see the white gleam of the rapids, and the banks grew into rugged +cliffs, which were capped by a peculiar, outstanding, semicircular rock. +It did not require the dragoman's aid to tell the party that this was +the famous landmark to which they were bound. A long, level stretch lay +before them, and the donkeys took it at a canter. At the farther side +were scattered rocks, black upon orange; and in the midst of them rose +some broken shafts of pillars and a length of engraved wall, looking in +its greyness and its solidity more like some work of Nature than of +man. The fat, sleek dragoman had dismounted, and stood waiting in his +petticoats and his cover-coat for the stragglers to gather round him. + +[Illustration: He pointed up with his donkey-whip p66] + +“This temple, ladies and gentlemen,” he cried, with the air of an +auctioneer who is about to sell it to the highest bidder, “very fine +example from the eighteenth dynasty. Here is the cartouche of Thotmes +the Third,” he pointed up with his donkey-whip at the rude, but deep, +hieroglyphics upon the wall above him. “He live sixteen hundred years +before Christ, and this is made to remember his victorious exhibition +into Mesopotamia. Here we have his history from the time that he was +with his mother, until he return with captives tied to his chariot. +In this you see him crowned with Lower Egypt, and with Upper Egypt +offering up sacrifice in honour of his victory to the God Ammon-ra. Here +he bring his captives before him, and he cut off each his right hand. In +this corner you see little pile--all right hands.” + +“My sakes, I shouldn't have liked to be here in those days,” said Miss +Adams. + +“Why, there's nothing altered,” remarked Cecil Brown. “The East is still +the East. I've no doubt that within a hundred miles, or perhaps a good +deal less, from where you stand--” + +“Shut up!” whispered the Colonel, and the party shuffled on down +the line of the wall with their faces up and their big hats thrown +backwards. The sun behind them struck the old grey masonry with a brassy +glare, and carried on to it the strange black shadows of the tourists, +mixing them up with the grim, high-nosed, square-shouldered warriors, +and the grotesque, rigid deities who lined it. The broad shadow of the +Reverend John Stuart, of Birmingham, smudged out both the heathen King +and the god whom he worshipped. + +“What's this?” he was asking in his wheezy voice, pointing up with a +yellow Assouan cane. + +“That is a hippopotamus,” said the dragoman; and the tourists all +tittered, for there was just a suspicion of Mr. Stuart himself in the +carving. + +“But it isn't bigger than a little pig,” he protested. “You see that the +King is putting his spear through it with ease.” + +“They make it small to show that it was a very small thing to the King,” + said the dragoman. “So you see that all the King's prisoners do not +exceed his knee--which is not because he was so much taller, but so much +more powerful. You see that he is bigger than his horse, because he is a +king and the other is only a horse. The same way, these small women whom +you see here and there are just his trivial little wives.” + +“Well, now!” cried Miss Adams, indignantly. “If they had sculped that +King's soul it would have needed a lens to see it. Fancy his allowing +his wives to be put in like that.” + +“If he did it now, Miss Adams,” said the Frenchman, “he would have more +fighting than ever in Mesopotamia. But time brings revenge. Perhaps the +day will soon come when we have the picture of the big, strong wife and +the trivial little husband--_hein?_” + +Cecil Brown and Headingly had dropped behind, for the glib comments +of the dragoman, and the empty, light-hearted chatter of the tourists +jarred upon their sense of solemnity. They stood in silence watching the +grotesque procession, with its sun-hats and green veils, as it passed in +the vivid sunshine down the front of the old grey wall. Above them two +crested hoopoes were fluttering and calling amid the ruins of the pylon. + +“Isn't it a sacrilege?” said the Oxford man, at last. + +“Well, now, I'm glad you feel that about it, because it's how it always +strikes me,” Headingly answered, with feeling. “I'm not quite clear in +my own mind how these things should be approached,--if they are to be +approached at all,--but I am sure this is not the way. On the whole, I +prefer the ruins that I have not seen to those which I have.” + +The young diplomatist looked up with his peculiarly bright smile, which +faded away too soon into his languid, _blasé_ mask. + +“I've got a map,” said the American, “and sometimes far away from +anything in the very midst of the waterless, trackless desert, I see +'ruins' marked upon it--or 'remains of a temple,' perhaps. For example, +the temple of Jupiter Ammon, which was one of the most considerable +shrines in the world, was hundreds of miles from anywhere. Those are the +ruins, solitary, unseen, unchanging through the centuries, which appeal +to one's imagination. But when I present a check at the door, and go +in as if it were Barnum's show, all the subtle feeling of romance goes +right out of it.” + +“Absolutely!” said Cecil Brown, looking over the desert with his dark, +intolerant eyes. “If one could come wandering here alone--stumble upon +it by chance, as it were--and find one's self in absolute solitude in +the dim light of the temple, with these grotesque figures all around, it +would be perfectly overwhelming. A man would be prostrated with wonder +and awe. But when Belmont is puffing his bulldog pipe, and Stuart is +wheezing, and Miss Sadie Adams is laughing----” + +“And that jay of a dragoman speaking his piece,” said Headingly; “I want +to stand and think all the time, and I never seem to get the chance. +I was ripe for manslaughter when I stood before the Great Pyramid, and +couldn't get a quiet moment because they would boost me on to the top. +I took a kick at one man which would have sent _him_ to the top in one +jump if I had hit meat. But fancy travelling all the way from America to +see the pyramid, and then finding nothing better to do than to kick an +Arab in front of it!” + +The Oxford man laughed in his gentle, tired fashion. + +“They are starting again,” said he, and the two hastened forwards to +take their places at the tail of the absurd procession. + +Their route ran now among large, scattered boulders, and between stony, +shingly hills. A narrow, winding path curved in and out amongst the +rocks. Behind them their view was cut off by similar hills, black and +fantastic, like the slag-heaps at the shaft of a mine. A silence fell +upon the little company, and even Sadie's bright face reflected the +harshness of Nature. The escort had closed in, and marched beside them, +their boots scrunching among the loose black rubble. Colonel Cochrane +and Belmont were still riding together in the van. + +[Illustration: A silence fell upon the little company p72] + +“Do you know, Belmont,” said the Colonel, in a low voice, “you may think +me a fool, but I don't like this one little bit.” + +Belmont gave a short gruff laugh. + +“It seemed all right in the saloon of the _Korosko_, but now that we are +here we _do_ seem rather up in the air,” said he. “Still, you know, a +party comes here every week, and nothing has ever yet gone wrong.” + +“I don't mind taking my chances when I am on the war-path,” the Colonel +answered. “That's all straightforward and in the way of business. But +when you have women with you, and a helpless crowd like this, it becomes +really dreadful. Of course, the chances are a hundred to one that we +have no trouble; but if we should have--well, it won't bear thinking +about. The wonderful thing is their complete unconsciousness that there +is any danger whatever.” + +“Well, I like the English tailor-made dresses well enough for walking, +Mr. Stephens,” said Miss Sadie from behind them. “But for an afternoon +dress, I think the French have more style than the English. Your +milliners have a more severe cut, and they don't do the cunning little +ribbons and bows and things in the same way.” + +The Colonel smiled at Belmont. + +“_She_ is quite serene in her mind, at any rate,” said he. “Of course, I +wouldn't say what I think to any one but you, and I dare say it will all +prove to be quite unfounded.” + +“Well, I could imagine parties of Dervishes on the prowl,” said Belmont. +“But what I cannot imagine is that they should just happen to come to +the pulpit rock on the very morning when we are due there.” + +“Considering that our movements have been freely advertised, and that +every one knows a week beforehand what our programme is, and where +we are to be found, it does not strike me as being such a wonderful +coincidence.” + +“It is a very remote chance,” said Belmont, stoutly, but he was glad in +his heart that his wife was safe and snug on board the steamer. + +And now they were clear of the rocks again, with a fine stretch of firm +yellow sand extending to the very base of the conical hill which lay +before them. “Ay-ah! Ayah!” cried the boys, and whack came their sticks +upon the flanks of the donkeys, which broke into a gallop, and away they +all streamed over the plain. It was not until they had come to the end +of the path which curves up the hill that the dragoman called a halt. + +“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we are arrived for the so famous pulpit +rock of Abousir. From the summit you will presently enjoy a panorama +of remarkable fertility. But first you will observe that over the rocky +side of the hill are everywhere cut the names of great men who have +passed it in their travels, and some of these names are older than the +time of Christ.” + +“Got Moses?” asked Miss Adams. + +“Auntie, I'm surprised at you!” cried Sadie. + +“Well, my dear, he was in Egypt, and he was a great man, and he may have +passed this way.” + +“Moses's name very likely there, and the same with Herodotus,” said +the dragoman, gravely. “Both have been long worn away. But there on +the brown rock you will see Belzoni. And up higher is Gordon. There is +hardly a name famous in the Soudan which you will not find, if you like. +And now, with your permission, we shall take good-bye of our donkeys +and walk up the path, and you will see the river and the desert from the +summit of the top.” + +A minute or two of climbing brought them out upon the semicircular +platform which crowns the rock. Below them on the far side was a +perpendicular black cliff, a hundred and fifty feet high, with the +swirling, foam-streaked river roaring past its base. The swish of the +water and the low roar as it surged over the mid-stream boulders boomed +through the hot, stagnant air. Far up and far down they could see the +course of the river, a quarter of a mile in breadth, and running very +deep and strong, with sleek black eddies and occasional spoutings of +foam. On the other side was a frightful wilderness of black, scattered +rocks, which were the _débris_ carried down by the river at high flood. +In no direction were there any signs of human beings or their dwellings. + +“On the far side,” said the dragoman, waving his donkey-whip towards the +east, “is the military line which conducts Wady Haifa to Sarras. Sarras +lies to the south, under that black hill. Those two blue mountains which +you see very far away are in Dongola, more than a hundred miles from +Sarras. The railway there is forty miles long, and has been much annoyed +by the Dervishes, who are very glad to turn the rails into spears. The +telegraph wires are also much appreciated thereby. Now, if you will +kindly turn round, I will explain, also, what we see upon the other +side.” + +It was a view which, when once seen, must always haunt the mind. Such an +expanse of savage and unrelieved desert might be part of some cold and +burned-out planet rather than of this fertile and bountiful earth. Away +and away it stretched to die into a soft, violet haze in the extremest +distance. In the foreground the sand was of a bright golden yellow, +which was quite dazzling in the sunshine. Here and there in a scattered +cordon stood the six trusty negro soldiers leaning motionless upon their +rifles, and each throwing a shadow which looked as solid as himself. But +beyond this golden plain lay a low line of those black slag-heaps, +with yellow sand-valleys winding between them. These in their turn were +topped by higher and more fantastic hills, and these by others, peeping +over each other's shoulders until they blended with that distant violet +haze. None of these hills were of any height,--a few hundred feet at the +most,--but their savage, saw-toothed crests and their steep scarps of +sun-baked stone gave them a fierce character of their own. + +“The Libyan desert,” said the dragoman, with a proud wave of his hand. +“The greatest desert in the world. Suppose you travel right west from +here, and turn neither to the north nor to the south, the first houses +you would come to would be in America. That make you homesick, Miss +Adams, I believe?” + +But the American old maid had her attention drawn away by the conduct +of Sadie, who had caught her arm by one hand and was pointing over the +desert with the other. + +“Well, now, if that isn't too picturesque for anything!” she cried, +with a flush of excitement upon her pretty face. “Do look, Mr. Stephens! +That's just the one only thing we wanted to make it just perfectly +grand. See the men upon the camels coming out from between those hills!” + +[Illustration: Long string of red-turbaned riders, Frontispiece p78] + +They all looked at the long string of red-turbaned riders who were +winding out of the ravine, and there fell such a hush that the buzzing +of the flies sounded quite loud upon their ears. Colonel Cochrane had +lit a match, and he stood with it in one hand and the unlit cigarette +in the other until the flame licked round his fingers. Belmont whistled. +The dragoman stood staring with his mouth half-open, and a curious slaty +tint in his full, red lips. The others looked from one to the other with +an uneasy sense that there was something wrong. It was the Colonel who +broke the silence. + +“By George, Belmont, I believe the hundred-to-one chance has come off!” + said he. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +“What's the meaning of this, Mansoor?” cried Belmont, harshly. “Who are +these people, and why are you standing staring as if you had lost your +senses?” + +The dragoman made an effort to compose himself, and licked his dry lips +before he answered. + +“I do not know who they are,” said he, in a quavering voice. “I did not +expect to see any Arabs in this part.” + +“Who they are?” cried the Frenchman. “You can see who they are. They are +armed men upon camels, Ababdeh, Bishareen--Bedouins, in short, such as +are employed by the Government upon the frontier.” + +“By Jove, he may be right, Cochrane,” said Belmont, looking inquiringly +at the Colonel. “Why shouldn't it be as he says? why shouldn't these +fellows be friendlies?” + +“There are no friendlies upon this side of the river,” said the Colonel, +abruptly; “I am perfectly certain about that. There is no use in mincing +matters. We must prepare for the worst.” + +But in spite of his words, they stood stock-still, in a huddled group, +staring out over the plain. Their nerves were numbed by the sudden +shock, and to all of them it was like a scene in a dream, vague, +impersonal, and unreal. The men upon the camels had streamed out from a +gorge which lay a mile or so distant on the side of the path along which +they had travelled. Their retreat, therefore, was entirely cut off. It +appeared, from the dust and the length of the line, to be quite an army +which was emerging from the hills, for seventy men upon camels cover +a considerable stretch of ground. Having reached the sandy plain, they +very deliberately formed to the front, and then at the harsh call of +a bugle they trotted forward in line, the parti-coloured figures all +swaying and the sand smoking in a rolling yellow cloud at the heels of +their camels. At the same moment the six black soldiers doubled in +from the front with their Martinis at the trail, and snuggled down like +well-trained skirmishers behind the rocks upon the haunch of the hill. +Their breech-blocks all snapped together as their corporal gave them the +order to load. + +And now suddenly the first stupor of the excursionists passed away, and +was succeeded by a frantic and impotent energy. They all ran about upon +the plateau of rock in an aimless, foolish flurry, like frightened fowls +in a yard. They could not bring themselves to acknowledge that there was +no possible escape for them. Again and again they rushed to the edge +of the great cliff which rose from the river, but the youngest and most +daring of them could never have descended it. The two women clung one +on each side of the trembling Mansoor, with a feeling that he was +officially responsible for their safety. When he ran up and down in his +desperation, his skirts and theirs all fluttered together. Stephens, +the lawyer, kept close to Sadie Adams, muttering mechanically, “Don't be +alarmed, Miss Sadie. Don't be at all alarmed!” though his own limbs were +twitching with agitation. Monsieur Fardet stamped about with a guttural +rolling of r's, glancing angrily at his companions, as if they had in +some way betrayed him, while the fat clergyman stood with his umbrella +up, staring stolidly with big, frightened eyes at the camel-men. +Cecil Brown curled his small, prim moustache, and looked white but +contemptuous. The Colonel, Belmont, and the young Harvard graduate were +the three most cool-headed and resourceful members of the party. + +“Better stick together,” said the Colonel. “There's no escape for us, so +we may as well remain united.” + +“They've halted,” said Belmont. “They are reconnoitring us. They know +very well that there is no escape from them, and they are taking their +time. I don't see what we can do.” + +“Suppose we hide the women,” Headingly suggested. “They can't know how +many of us are here. When they have taken us, the women can come out of +their hiding-place and make their way back to the boat.” + +“Admirable!” cried Colonel Cochrane. “Admirable! This way, please, Miss +Adams. Bring the ladies here, Mansoor. There is not an instant to be +lost.” + +There was a part of the plateau which was invisible from the plain, and +here in feverish haste they built a little cairn. Many flaky slabs of +stone were lying about, and it did not take long to prop the largest +of these against a rock, so as to make a lean-to, and then to put two +side-pieces to complete it. The slabs were of the same colour as the +rock, so that to a casual glance the hiding-place was not very visible. +The two ladies were squeezed into this, and they crouched together, +Sadie's arms thrown round her aunt. When they had walled them up, the +men turned with lighter hearts to see what was going on. As they did +so there rang out the sharp, peremptory crack of a rifleshot from the +escort, followed by another and another, but these isolated shots were +drowned in the long, spattering roll of an irregular volley from the +plain, and the air was full of the phit-phit-phit of the bullets. +The tourists all huddled behind the rocks, with the exception of the +Frenchman, who still stamped angrily about, striking his sun-hat with +his clenched hand. Belmont and Cochrane crawled down to where the +Soudanese soldiers were firing slowly and steadily, resting their rifles +upon the boulders in front of them. + +The Arabs had halted about five hundred yards away, and it was evident +from their leisurely movements that they were perfectly aware that there +was no possible escape for the travellers. They had paused to ascertain +their number before closing in upon them. Most of them were firing from +the backs of their camels, but a few had dismounted and were kneeling +here and there,--little shimmering white spots against the golden +background. Their shots came sometimes singly in quick, sharp throbs, +and sometimes in a rolling volley, with a sound like a boy's stick drawn +across iron railings. The hill buzzed like a bee-hive, and the bullets +made a sharp, crackling sound as they struck against the rocks. + +[Illustration: You do no good by exposing yourself p86] + +“You do no good by exposing yourself,” said Belmont, drawing Colonel +Cochrane behind a large jagged boulder, which already furnished a +shelter for three of the Soudanese. + +“A bullet is the best we have to hope for,” said Cochrane, grimly. “What +an infernal fool I have been, Belmont, not to protest more energetically +against this ridiculous expedition! I deserve whatever I get, but it +_is_ hard on these poor souls who never knew the danger.” + +“I suppose there's no help for us?” + +“Not the faintest.” + +“Don't you think this firing might bring the troops up from Haifa?” + +“They'll never hear it. It is a good six miles from here to the steamer. +From that to Haifa would be another five.” + +“Well, when we don't return, the steamer will give the alarm.” + +“And where shall we be by that time?” + +“My poor Norah! My poor little Norah!” muttered Belmont, in the depths +of his grizzled moustache. + +“What do you suppose that they will do with us, Cochrane,” he asked +after a pause. + +“They may cut our throats, or they may take us as slaves to Khartoum. +I don't know that there is much to choose. There's one of us out of his +troubles, anyhow.” + +The soldier next them had sat down abruptly, and leaned forward over +his knees. His movement and attitude were so natural that it was hard to +realise that he had been shot through the head. He neither stirred nor +groaned. His comrades bent over him for a moment, and then, shrugging +their shoulders, they turned their dark faces to the Arabs once more. +Belmont picked up the dead man's Martini and his ammunition-pouch. + +“Only three more rounds, Cochrane,” said he, with the little brass +cylinders upon the palm of his hand. “We've let them shoot too soon, and +too often. We should have waited for the rush.” + +“You're a famous shot, Belmont,” cried the Colonel. “I've heard of you +as one of the cracks. Don't, you think you could pick off their leader?” + “Which is he?” + +“As far as I can make out, it is that one on the white camel on their +right front. I mean the fellow who is peering at us from under his two +hands.” + +Belmont thrust in his cartridge and altered the sights. “It's a shocking +bad light for judging distance,” said he. “This is where the low +point-blank trajectory of the Lee-Metford comes in useful. Well, we'll +try him at five hundred.” He fired, but there was no change in the white +camel or the peering rider. + +“Did you see any sand fly?” + +“No; I saw nothing.” “I fancy I took my sight a trifle too full.” “Try +him again.” Man and rifle and rock were equally steady, but again the +camel and chief remained unharmed. The third shot must have been +nearer, for he moved a _few_ paces to the right, as if he were becoming +restless. + +Belmont threw the empty rifle down with an exclamation of disgust. + +“It's this confounded light,” he cried, and his cheeks flushed with +annoyance. “Think of my wasting three cartridges in that fashion! If I +had him at Bisley I'd shoot the turban off him, but this vibrating glare +means refraction. What's the matter with the Frenchman?” + +Monsieur Fardet was stamping about the plateau with the gestures of a +man who has been stung by a wasp. “_S'cré nom! S'cré nom!_” he shouted, +showing his strong white teeth under his black waxed moustache. He wrung +his right hand violently, and as he did so he sent a little spray of +blood from his finger-tips. A bullet had chipped his wrist. Headingly +ran out from the cover where he had been crouching, with the intention +of dragging the demented Frenchman into a place of safety, but he had +not taken three paces before he was himself hit in the loins, and fell +with a dreadful crash among the stones. He staggered to his feet, and +then fell again in the same place, floundering up and down like a horse +which has broken its back. “I'm done!” he whispered, as the Colonel ran +to his aid, and then he lay still, with his china-white cheek against +the black stones. When, but a year before, he had wandered under the +elms of Cambridge, surely the last fate upon this earth which he could +have predicted for himself would be that he should be slain by the +bullet of a fanatical Mohammedan in the wilds of the Libyan desert. + +Meanwhile the fire of the escort had ceased, for they had shot away +their last cartridge. A second man had been killed, and a third --who +was the corporal in charge--had received a bullet in his thigh. He sat +upon a stone, tying up his injury with a grave, preoccupied look upon +his wrinkled black face, like an old woman piecing together a broken +plate. The three others fastened their bayonets with a determined +metallic rasp and snap, and the air of men who intended to sell their +lives dearly. + +“They're coming!” cried Belmont, looking over the plain. + +“Let them come!” the Colonel answered, putting his hands into his +trouser-pockets. Suddenly he pulled one fist out, and shook it furiously +in the air. “Oh, the cads! the confounded cads!” he shouted, and his +eyes were congested with rage. + +It was the fate of the poor donkey-boys which had carried the +self-contained soldier out of his usual calm. During the firing they had +remained huddled, a pitiable group, among the rocks at the base of the +hill. Now upon the conviction that the charge of the Dervishes must +come first upon them, they had sprung upon their animals with shrill, +inarticulate cries of fear, and had galloped off across the plain. A +small flanking-party of eight or ten camel-men had worked round while +the firing had been going on, and these dashed in among the flying +donkey-boys, hacking and hewing with a cold-blooded, deliberate +ferocity. One little boy, in a flapping Galabeeah, kept ahead of his +pursuers for a time, but the long stride of the camels ran him down, +and an Arab thrust his spear into the middle of his stooping back. The +small, white-clad corpses looked like a flock of sheep trailing over the +desert. + +But the people upon the rock had no time to think of the cruel fate of +the donkey-boys. Even the Colonel, after that first indignant outburst, +had forgotten all about them. The advancing camel-men had trotted to the +bottom of the hill, had dismounted, and, leaving their camels kneeling, +had rushed furiously onward. Fifty of them were clambering up the path +and over the rocks together, their red turbans appearing and vanishing +again as they scrambled over the boulders. Without a shot or a pause +they surged over the three black soldiers, killing one and stamping +the other two down under their hurrying feet. So they burst on to the +plateau at the top, where an unexpected resistance checked them for an +instant. + +The travellers, nestling up against one another, had awaited, each after +his own fashion, the coming of the Arabs. The Colonel, with his hands +back in his trouser-pockets, tried to whistle out of his dry lips. +Belmont folded his arms and leaned against a rock, with a sulky frown +upon his lowering face. So strangely do our minds act that his three +successive misses and the tarnish to his reputation as a marksman was +troubling him more than his impending fate. Cecil Brown stood erect, and +plucked nervously at the upturned points of his little prim moustache. +Monsieur Fardet groaned over his wounded wrist. Mr. Stephens, in sombre +impotence, shook his head slowly, the living embodiment of prosaic +law and order. Mr. Stuart stood, his umbrella still over him, with no +expression upon his heavy face or in his staring brown eyes. Headingly +lay with that china-white cheek resting motionless upon the stones. +His sun-hat had fallen off, and he looked quite boyish with his ruffled +yellow hair and his unlined, clean-cut face. The dragoman sat upon a +stone and played nervously with his donkey-whip. So the Arabs found them +when they reached the summit of the hill. + +And then, just as the foremost rushed to lay hands upon them, a most +unexpected incident arrested them. From the time of the first appearance +of the Dervishes the fat clergyman of Birmingham had looked like a man +in a cataleptic trance. He had neither moved nor spoken. But now he +suddenly woke at a bound into strenuous and heroic energy. It may have +been the mania of fear, or it may have been the blood of some Berserk +ancestor which stirred suddenly in his veins; but he broke into a wild +shout, and, catching up a stick, he struck right and left among the +Arabs with a fury which was more savage than their own. One who helped +to draw up this narrative has left it upon record that of all the +pictures which have been burned into his brain, there is none so clear +as that of this man, his large face shining with perspiration, and his +great body dancing about with unwieldy agility, as he struck at the +shrinking, snarling savages. + +[Illustration: He struck at the snarling savages p 94] + +Then a spear-head flashed from behind a rock with a quick, vicious +upward thrust, the clergyman fell upon his hands and knees, and the +horde poured over him to seize their unresisting victims. Knives +glimmered before their eyes, rude hands clutched at their wrists and at +their throats, and then, with brutal and unreasoning violence, they were +hauled and pushed down the steep, winding path to where the camels were +waiting below. The Frenchman waved his unwounded hand as he walked. +“Vive le Khalifa! Vive le Madhi!” he shouted, until a blow from behind +with the butt-end of a Remington beat him into silence. + +And now they were herded in at the base of the Abousir Rock, this +little group of modern types who had fallen into the rough clutch of the +seventh century,--for in all save the rifles in their hands there was +nothing to distinguish these men from the desert warriors who first +carried the crescent flag out of Arabia. The East does not change, and +the Dervish raiders were not less brave, less cruel, or less fanatical +than their forebears. They stood in a circle, leaning upon their guns +and spears, and looking with exultant eyes at the dishevelled group +of captives. They were clad in some approach to a uniform, red turbans +gathered around the neck as well as the head, so that the fierce face +looked out of a scarlet frame; yellow, untanned shoes, and white tunics +with square, brown patches let into them. All carried rifles, and one +had a small, discoloured bugle slung over his shoulder. Half of them +were negroes--fine, muscular men, with the limbs of a jet Hercules; and +the other half were Baggara Arabs--small, brown, and wiry, with little, +vicious eyes, and thin, cruel lips. The chief was also a Baggara, but +he was a taller man than the others, with a black beard which came down +over his chest, and a pair of hard, cold eyes, which gleamed like +glass from under his thick, black brows. They were fixed now upon his +captives, and his features were grave with thought. Mr. Stuart had been +brought down, his hat gone, his face still flushed with anger, and his +trousers sticking in one part to his leg. The two surviving Soudanese +soldiers, their black faces and blue coats blotched with crimson, stood +silently at attention upon one side of this forlorn group of castaways. + +The chief stood for some minutes, stroking his black beard, while his +fierce eyes glanced from one pale face to another along the miserable +line of his captives. In a harsh, imperious voice he said something +which brought Mansoor, the dragoman, to the front, with bent back and +outstretched, supplicating palms. To his employers there had always +seemed to be something comic in that flapping skirt and short cover-coat +above it; but now, under the glare of the mid-day sun, with those faces +gathered round them, it appeared rather to add a grotesque horror to +the scene. The dragoman salaamed like some ungainly, automatic doll, and +then, as the chief rasped out a curt word or two, he fell suddenly upon +his face, rubbing his forehead into the sand, and flapping upon it with +his hands. + +[Illustration: Fell suddenly upon his face p97] + +“What's that, Cochrane?” asked Belmont. “Why is he making an exhibition +of himself?” + +“As far as I can understand, it is all up with us,” the Colonel +answered. + +“But this is absurd,” cried the Frenchman, excitedly; “why should these +people wish any harm to me? I have never injured them. On the other +hand, I have always been their friend. If I could but speak to them, I +would make them comprehend. Hola, dragoman, Mansoor!” + +The excited gestures of Monsieur Fardet drew the sinister eyes of the +Baggara chief upon him. Again he asked a curt question, and Mansoor, +kneeling in front of him, answered it. + +“Tell him that I am a Frenchman, dragoman. Tell him that I am a friend +of the Khalifa. Tell him that my countrymen have never had any quarrel +with him, but that his enemies are also ours.” + +“The chief asks what religion you call your own,” said Mansoor. “The +Khalifa, he says, has no necessity for any friendship from those who are +infidels and unbelievers.” + +“Tell him that in France we look upon all religions as good.” + +“The chief says that none but a blaspheming dog and the son of a dog +would say that all religions are one as good as the other. He says that +if you are indeed the friend of the Khalifa, you will accept the Koran +and become a true believer upon the spot. If you will do so, he will +promise on his side to send you alive to Khartoum.” + +“And if not?” + +“You will fare in the same way as the others.” + +“Then you may make my compliments to monsieur the chief, and tell him +that it is not the custom for Frenchmen to change their religion under +compulsion.” + +The chief said a few words, and then turned to consult with a short, +sturdy Arab at his elbow. + +“He says, Monsieur Fardet,” said the dragoman, “that if you speak again +he will make a trough out of you for the dogs to feed from. Say nothing +to anger him, sir, for he is now talking what is to be done with us.” + +“Who is he?” asked the Colonel. + +“It is Ali Wad Ibrahim, the same who raided last year, and killed all of +the Nubian village.” + +“I've heard of him,” said the Colonel. + +“He has the name of being one of the boldest and the most fanatical +of all the Khalifa's leaders. Thank God that the women are out of his +clutches.” + +The two Arabs had been talking in that stern, restrained fashion which +comes so strangely from a southern race. Now they both turned to the +dragoman, who was still kneeling upon the sand. They plied him with +questions, pointing first to one and then to another of their prisoners. +Then they conferred together once more, and finally said something to +Mansoor, with a contemptuous wave of the hand to indicate that he might +convey it to the others. + +“Thank Heaven, gentlemen, I think that we are saved for the present +time,” said Mansoor, wiping away the sand which had stuck to his +perspiring forehead. “Ali Wad Ibrahim says that though an unbeliever +should have only the edge of the sword from one of the sons of the +Prophet, yet it might be of more profit to the beit-el-mal at Omdurman +if it had the gold which your people will pay for you. Until it comes +you can work as the slaves of the Khalifa; unless he should decide to +put you to death. You are to mount yourselves upon the spare camels and +to ride with the party.” + +The chief had waited for the end of the explanation. Now he gave a brief +order, and a negro stepped forward with a long, dull-coloured sword in +his hand. The dragoman squealed like a rabbit who sees a ferret, and +threw himself frantically down upon the sand once more. + +“What is it, Cochrane?” asked Cecil Brown,--for the Colonel had served +in the East, and was the only one of the travellers who had a smattering +of Arabic. + +“As far as I can make out, he says there is no use keeping the dragoman, +as no one would trouble to pay a ransom for him, and he is too fat to +make a good slave.” + +“Poor devil!” cried Brown. “Here, Cochrane, tell them to let him go. We +can't let him be butchered like this in front of us. Say that we will +find the money amongst us. I will be answerable for any reasonable sum.” + +“I'll stand in as far as my means will allow,” cried Belmont. + +“We will sign a joint bond or indemnity,” said, the lawyer. “If I had +a paper and pencil I could throw it into shape in an instant, and the +chief could rely upon its being perfectly correct and valid.” + +But the Colonel's Arabic was insufficient, and Mansoor himself was too +maddened by fear to understand the offer which was being made for him. +The negro looked a question at the chief, and then his long black arm +swung upwards and his sword hissed over his shoulder. But the dragoman +had screamed out something which arrested the blow, and which brought +the chief and the lieutenant to his side with a new interest upon their +swarthy faces. The others crowded in also, and formed a dense circle +around the grovelling, pleading man. + +The Colonel had not understood this sudden change, nor had the others +fathomed the reason of it, but some instinct flashed it upon Stephens's +horrified perceptions. + +“Oh, you villain!” he cried, furiously. + +“Hold your tongue, you miserable creature! Be silent! Better die--a +thousand times better die!” + +But it was too late, and already they could all see the base design by +which the coward hoped to save his own life. He was about to betray the +women. They saw the chief, with a brave man's contempt upon his stern +face, make a sign of haughty assent, and then Mansoor spoke rapidly and +earnestly, pointing up the hill. At a word from the Baggara, a dozen of +the raiders rushed up the path and were lost to view upon the top. Then +came a shrill cry, a horrible, strenuous scream of surprise and terror, +and an instant later the party streamed into sight again, dragging the +women in their midst. Sadie, with her young, active limbs, kept up with +them as they sprang down the slope, encouraging her aunt all the while +over her shoulder. The older lady, struggling amid the rushing white +figures, looked with her thin limbs and open mouth like a chicken being +dragged from a coop. + +[Illustration: The party streamed into sight again p103] + +The chief's dark eyes glanced indifferently at Miss Adams, but gazed +with a smouldering fire at the younger woman. Then he gave an abrupt +order, and the prisoners were hurried in a miserable, hopeless drove +to the cluster of kneeling camels. Their pockets had already been +ransacked, and the contents thrown into one of the camel-food bags, the +neck of which was tied up by Ali Wad Ibrahim's own hands. + +“I say, Cochrane,” whispered Belmont, looking with smouldering eyes at +the wretched Mansoor, “I've got a little hip revolver which they have +not discovered. Shall I shoot that cursed dragoman for giving away the +women?” + +The Colonel shook his head. + +“You had better keep it,” said he, with a sombre face. “The women may +find some other use for it before all is over.” + + + + +CHAPTER V + +The camels, some brown and some white, were kneeling in a long line, +their champing jaws moving rhythmically from side to side, and their +gracefully poised heads turning to right and left in a mincing, +self-conscious fashion. Most of them were beautiful creatures, true +Arabian trotters, with the slim limbs and finely turned necks which mark +the breed; but amongst them were a few of the slower, heavier beasts, +with un-groomed skins, disfigured by the black scars of old firings. +These were loaded with the doora and the water-skins of the raiders, but +a few minutes sufficed to redistribute their loads and to make place for +the prisoners. None of these had been bound with the exception of Mr. +Stuart,--for the Arabs, understanding that he was a clergyman, and +accustomed to associate religion with violence, had looked upon his +fierce outburst as quite natural, and regarded him now as the most +dangerous and enterprising of their captives. His hands were therefore +tied together with a plaited camel-halter, but the others, including the +dragoman and the two wounded blacks, were allowed to mount without any +precaution against their escape, save that which was afforded by the +slowness of their beasts. Then, with a shouting of men and a roaring +of camels, the creatures were jolted on to their legs, and the long, +straggling procession set off with its back to the homely river, and its +face to the shimmering, violet haze, which hung round the huge sweep of +beautiful, terrible desert, striped tiger-fashion with black rock and +with golden sand. + +None of the white prisoners with the exception of Colonel Cochrane had +ever been upon a camel before. It seemed an alarming distance to the +ground when they looked down, and the curious swaying motion, with +the insecurity of the saddle, made them sick and frightened. But their +bodily discomfort was forgotten in the turmoil of bitter thoughts +within. What a chasm gaped between their old life and their new! And yet +how short was the time and space which divided them! Less than an hour +ago they had stood upon the summit of that rock and had laughed and +chattered, or grumbled at the heat and flies, becoming peevish at small +discomforts. Headingly had been hypercritical over the tints of Nature. +They could not forget his own tint as he lay with his cheek upon the +black stone. Sadie had chattered about tailor-made dresses and Parisian +chiffons. Now she was clinging, half-crazy, to the pommel of a wooden +saddle, with suicide rising as a red star of hope in her mind. Humanity, +reason, argument,--all were gone, and there remained the brutal +humiliation of force. And all the time, down there by the second rocky +point, their steamer was waiting for them,--their saloon, with the white +napery and the glittering glasses, the latest novel, and the London +papers. The least imaginative of them could see it so clearly: the white +awning, Mrs. Shlesinger with her yellow sun-hat, Mrs. Belmont lying back +in the canvas chair. There it lay almost in sight of them, that little +floating chip broken off from home, and every silent, ungainly step of +the camels was carrying them more hopelessly away from it. That very +morning how beneficent Providence had appeared, how pleasant was +life!--a little commonplace, perhaps, but so soothing and restful, And +now! + +The red head-gear, patched jibbehs, and yellow boots had already shown +to the Colonel that these men were no wandering party of robbers, but a +troop from the regular army of the Khalifa. Now, as they struck across +the desert, they showed that they possessed the rude discipline which +their work demanded. A mile ahead, and far out on either flank, rode +their scouts, dipping and rising among the yellow sand-hills. Ali Wad +Ibrahim headed the caravan, and his short, sturdy lieutenant brought up +the rear. The main party straggled over a couple of hundred yards, and +in the middle was the little, dejected clump of prisoners. No attempt +was made to keep them apart, and Mr. Stephens soon contrived that his +camel should be between those of the two ladies. + +“Don't be down-hearted, Miss Adams,” said he. “This is a most +indefensible outrage, but there can be no question that steps will be +taken in the proper quarter to set the matter right. I am convinced that +we shall be subjected to nothing worse than a temporary inconvenience. +If it had not been for that villain Mansoor, you need not have appeared +at all.” + +It was shocking to see the change in the little Bostonian lady, for she +had shrunk to an old woman in an hour. Her swarthy cheeks had fallen in, +and her eyes shone wildly from sunken, darkened sockets. Her frightened +glances were continually turned upon Sadie. There is surely some wrecker +angel which can only gather her best treasures in moments of disaster. +For here were all these worldlings going to their doom, and already +frivolity and selfishness had passed away from them, and each was +thinking and grieving only for the other. Sadie thought of her aunt, her +aunt thought of Sadie, the men thought of the women, Belmont thought of +his wife,--and then he thought of something else also, and he kicked his +camel's shoulder with his heel until he found himself upon the near side +of Miss Adams. + +“I've got something for you here,” he whispered. “We may be separated +soon, so it is as well to make our arrangements.” + +“Separated!” wailed Miss Adams. + +“Don't speak loud, for that infernal Mansoor may give us away again. +I hope it won't be so, but it might. We must be prepared for the worst. +For example, they might determine to get rid of us men and to keep you.” + +Miss Adams shuddered. + +“What am I to do? For God's sake, tell me what I am to do, Mr. Belmont! +I am an old woman. I have had my day. I could stand it if it was only +myself. But Sadie--I am clean crazed when I think of her. There's her +mother waiting at home, and I----” She clasped her thin hands together +in the agony of her thoughts. + +“Put your hand out under your dust-cloak,” said Belmont, sidling his +camel up against hers. “Don't miss your grip of it. There! Now hide it +in your dress, and you'll always have a key to unlock any door.” + +[Illustration: Don't miss your grip of it p111] + +Miss Adams felt what it was which he had slipped into her hand, and she +looked at him for a moment in bewilderment. Then she pursed up her +lips and shook her stern, brown face in disapproval. But she pushed the +little pistol into its hiding-place, all the same, and she rode with her +thoughts in a whirl. Could this indeed be she, Eliza Adams, of Boston, +whose narrow, happy life had oscillated between the comfortable house in +Commonwealth Avenue and the Tremont Presbyterian Church? Here she was, +hunched upon a camel, with her hand upon the butt of a pistol, and +her mind weighing the justifications of murder. Oh, life, sly, sleek, +treacherous life, how are we ever to trust you? Show us your worst and +we can face it, but it is when you are sweetest and smoothest that we +have most to fear from you. + +“At the worst, Miss Sadie, it will only be a question of ransom,” said +Stephens, arguing against his own convictions. “Besides, we are still +close to Egypt, far away from the Dervish country. There is sure to be +an energetic pursuit. You must try not to lose your courage, and to hope +for the best.” + +“No, I am not scared, Mr. Stephens,” said Sadie, turning towards him +a blanched face which belied her words. “We're all in God's hands, and +surely He won't be cruel to us. It is easy to talk about trusting Him +when things are going well, but now is the real test. If He's up there +behind that blue heaven----” + +“He is,” said a voice behind them, and they found that the Birmingham +clergyman had joined the party. His tied hands clutched on to his +Makloofa saddle, and his fat body swayed dangerously from side to side +with every stride of the camel. His wounded leg was oozing with blood +and clotted with flies, and the burning desert sun beat down upon his +bare head, for he had lost both hat and umbrella in the scuffle. A +rising fever flecked his large, white cheeks with a touch of colour, and +brought a light into his brown ox-eyes. He had always seemed a somewhat +gross and vulgar person to his fellow-travellers. Now, this bitter +healing draught of sorrow had transformed him. He was purified, +spiritualised, exalted. He had become so calmly strong that he made the +others feel stronger as they looked upon him. He spoke of life and of +death, of the present, and their hopes of the future; and the black +cloud of their misery began to show a golden rift or two. Cecil +Brown shrugged his shoulders, for he could not change in an hour the +convictions of his life; but the others, even Fardet, the Frenchman, +were touched and strengthened. They all took off their hats when he +prayed. Then the Colonel made a turban out of his red silk cummerbund, +and insisted that Mr. Stuart should wear it. With his homely dress and +gorgeous head-gear, he looked like a man who has dressed up to amuse the +children. + +And now the dull, ceaseless, insufferable torment of thirst was added to +the aching weariness which came from the motion of the camels. The sun +glared down upon them, and then up again from the yellow sand, and the +great plain shimmered and glowed until they felt as if they were riding +over a cooling sheet of molten metal. Their lips were parched and dried, +and their tongues like tags of leather. They lisped curiously in their +speech, for it was only the vowel sounds which would come without an +effort. Miss Adams's chin had dropped upon her chest, and her great hat +concealed her face. + +“Auntie will faint if she does not get water,” said Sadie. “Oh, Mr. +Stephens, is there nothing we could do?” + +The Dervishes riding near were all Baggara with the exception of +one negro,--an uncouth fellow with a face pitted with smallpox. His +expression seemed good-natured when compared with that of his Arab +comrades, and Stephens ventured to touch his elbow and to point to his +water-skin, and then to the exhausted lady. The negro shook his head +brusquely, but at the same time he glanced significantly towards +the Arabs, as if to say that, if it were not for them, he might act +differently. Then he laid his black forefinger upon the breast of his +jibbeh. + +“Tippy Tilly,” said he. + +“What's that?” asked Colonel Cochrane. + +“Tippy Tilly,” repeated the negro, sinking his voice as if he wished +only the prisoners to hear him. + +The Colonel shook his head. + +“My Arabic won't bear much strain. I don't know what he is saying,” said +he. + +“Tippy Tilly. Hicks Pasha,” the negro repeated. + +“I believe the fellow is friendly to us, but I can't quite make him +out,” said Cochrane to Belmont. “Do you think that he means that his +name is Tippy Tilly, and that he killed Hicks Pasha?” + +The negro showed his great white teeth at hearing his own words coming +back to him. “Aiwa!” said he. “Tippy Tilly--Bimbashi Mormer--Bourn!” + +“By Jove, I got it!” cried Belmont. + +“He's trying to speak English. Tippy Tilly is as near as he can get +to Egyptian Artillery. He has served in the Egyptian Artillery under +Bimbashi Mortimer. He was taken prisoner when Hicks Pasha was destroyed, +and had to turn Dervish to save his skin. How's that?” + +The Colonel said a few words of Arabic and received a reply, but two of +the Arabs closed up, and the negro quickened his pace and left them. + +“You are quite right,” said the Colonel. “The fellow is friendly to us, +and would rather fight for the Khedive than for the Khalifa. I don't +know that he can do us any good, but I've been in worse holes than +this, and come out right side up. After all, we are not out of reach of +pursuit, and won't be for another forty-eight hours.” + +Belmont calculated the matter out in his slow, deliberate fashion. + +“It was about twelve that we were on the rock,” said he. “They would +become alarmed aboard the steamer if we did not appear at two.” + +“Yes,” the Colonel interrupted, “that was to be our lunch hour. I +remember saying that when I came back I would have----Oh, Lord, it's +best not to think about it!” + +“The reis was a sleepy old crock,” Belmont continued; “but I have +absolute confidence in the promptness and decision of my wife. She would +insist upon an immediate alarm being given. Suppose they started back at +two-thirty, they should be at Haifa by three, since the journey is down +stream. How long did they say that it took to turn out the Camel Corps?” + +“Give them an hour.” + +“And another hour to get them across the river. They would be at the +Abousir Rock and pick up the tracks by six o'clock. After that it is a +clear race. We are only four hours ahead, and some of these beasts are +very spent. We may be saved yet, Cochrane!” + +“Some of us may. I don't expect to see the padre alive to-morrow, nor +Miss Adams either. They are not made for this sort of thing, either of +them. Then, again, we must not forget that these people have a trick of +murdering their prisoners when they think that there is a chance of a +rescue. See here, Belmont, in case you get back and I don't, there's a +matter of a mortgage that I want you to set right for me.” They rode +on with their shoulders inclined to each other, deep in the details of +business. + +The friendly negro who had talked of himself as Tippy Tilly had managed +to slip a piece of cloth soaked in water into the hand of Mr. Stephens, +and Miss Adams had moistened her lips with it. Even the few drops had +given her renewed strength, and, now that the first crushing shock was +over, her wiry, elastic, Yankee nature began to reassert itself. + +“These people don't look as if they would harm us, Mr. Stephens,” said +she. “I guess they have a working religion of their own, such as it is, +and that what's wrong to us is wrong to them.” + +Stephens shook his head in silence. He had seen the death of the +donkey-boys, and she had not. + +“Maybe we are sent to guide them into a better path,” said the old lady. +“Maybe we are specially singled out for a good work among them.” + +If it were not for her niece her energetic and enterprising temperament +was capable of glorying in the chance of evangelising Khartoum, and +turning Omdurman into a little well-drained, broad-avenued replica of a +New England town. + +“Do you know what I am thinking of all the time?” said Sadie. “You +remember that temple that we saw,--when was it? Why, it was this +morning.” + +They gave an exclamation of surprise, all three of them. Yes, it +had been this morning; and it seemed away and away in some dim past +experience of their lives, so vast was the change, so new and so +overpowering the thoughts which had come between them. They rode in +silence, full of this strange expansion of time, until at last Stephens +reminded Sadie that she had left her remark unfinished. + +“Oh, yes; it was the wall picture on that temple that I was thinking of. +Do you remember the poor string of prisoners who are being dragged +along to the feet of the great king,--how dejected they looked among the +warriors who led them? Who could,--who _could_ have thought that within +three hours the same fate should be our own? And Mr. Headingly----,” + she turned her face away and began to cry. + +“Don't take on, Sadie,” said her aunt; “remember what the minister said +just now, that we are all right there in the hollow of God's hand. Where +do you think we are going, Mr. Stephens?” + +The red edge of his Baedeker still projected from the lawyer's pocket, +for it had not been worth their captor's while to take it. He glanced +down at it. + +“If they will only leave me this, I will look up a few references when +we halt. I have a general idea of the country, for I drew a small map +of it the other day. The river runs from south to north, so we must be +travelling almost due west. I suppose they feared pursuit if they kept +too near the Nile bank. There is a caravan route, I remember, which runs +parallel to the river, about seventy miles inland. If we continue in +this direction for a day we ought to come to it. There is a line of +wells through which it passes. It comes out at Assiout, if I remember +right, upon the Egyptian side. On the other side, it leads away into the +Dervish country,--so, perhaps----” + +His words were interrupted by a high, eager voice which broke suddenly +into a torrent of jostling words, words without meaning, pouring +strenuously out in angry assertions and foolish repetitions. The pink +had deepened to scarlet upon Mr. Stuart's cheeks, his eyes were vacant +but brilliant, and he gabbled, gabbled, gabbled as he rode. Kindly +mother Nature! she will not let her children be mishandled too far. +“This is too much,” she says; “this wounded leg, these crusted lips, +this anxious, weary mind. Come away for a time, until your body becomes +more habitable.” And so she coaxes the mind away into the Nirvana of +delirium, while the little cell-workers tinker and toil within to get +things better for its home-coming. When you see the veil of cruelty +which nature wears, try and peer through it, and you will sometimes +catch a glimpse of a very homely, kindly face behind. + +The Arab guards looked askance at this sudden outbreak of the clergyman, +for it verged upon lunacy, and lunacy is to them a fearsome and +supernatural thing. One of them rode forward and spoke with the Emir. +When he returned he said something to his comrades, one of whom closed +in upon each side of the minister's camel, so as to prevent him from +falling. The friendly negro sidled his beast up to the Colonel, and +whispered to him. + +“We are going to halt presently, Belmont,” said Cochrane. + +“Thank God! They may give us some water. We can't go on like this.” + +“I told Tippy Tilly that, if he could help us, we would turn him into a +Bimbashi when we got him back into Egypt. I think he's willing enough if +he only had the power. By Jove, Belmont, do look back at the river.” + +Their route, which had lain through sand-strewn khors with jagged, black +edges,--places up which one would hardly think it possible that a +camel could climb,--opened out now on to a hard, rolling plain, covered +thickly with rounded pebbles, dipping and rising to the violet hills +upon the horizon. So regular were the long, brown pebble-strewn curves, +that they looked like the dark rollers of some monstrous ground-swell. +Here and there a little straggling sage-green tuft of camel-grass +sprouted up between the stones. Brown plains and violet hills,--nothing +else in front of them! Behind lay the black jagged rocks through which +they had passed with orange slopes of sand, and then far away a thin +line of green to mark the course of the river. How cool and beautiful +that green looked in the stark, abominable wilderness! On one side they +could see the high rock,--the accursed rock which had tempted them to +their ruin. On the other the river curved, and the sun gleamed upon the +water. Oh, that liquid gleam, and the insurgent animal cravings, the +brutal primitive longings, which for the instant took the soul out of +all of them! They had lost families, countries, liberty, everything, but +it was only of water, water, water, that they could think. Mr. Stuart, +in his delirium, began roaring for oranges, and it was insufferable +for them to have to listen to him. Only the rough, sturdy Irishman rose +superior to that bodily craving. That gleam of river must be somewhere +near Haifa, and his wife might be upon the very water at which he +looked. He pulled his hat over his eyes, and rode in gloomy silence, +biting at his strong, iron-grey moustache. + +[Illustration: Looking for some landmark p124] + +Slowly the sun sank towards the west, and their shadows began to trail +along the path where their hearts would go. It was cooler, and a desert +breeze had sprung up, whispering over the rolling, stone-strewed plain. +The Emir at their head had called his lieutenant to his side, and the +pair had peered about, their eyes shaded by their hands, looking for +some landmark. Then, with a satisfied grunt, the chiefs camel had seemed +to break short off at its knees, and then at its hocks, going down in +three curious, broken-jointed jerks until its stomach was stretched upon +the ground. As each succeeding camel reached the spot it lay down also, +until they were all stretched in one long line. The riders sprang off, +and laid out the chopped tibbin upon cloths in front of them, for no +well-bred camel will eat from the ground. In their gentle eyes, their +quiet, leisurely way of eating, and their condescending, mincing manner, +there was something both feminine and genteel, as though a party of prim +old maids had foregathered in the heart of the Libyan desert. + +There was no interference with the prisoners, either male or female, for +how could they escape in the centre of that huge plain? The Emir came +towards them once, and stood combing out his blue-black beard with his +fingers, and looking thoughtfully at them out of his dark, sinister +eyes. Miss Adams saw with a shudder that it was always upon Sadie that +his gaze was fixed. Then, seeing their distress, he gave an order, and a +negro brought a water-skin, from which he gave each of them about half +a tumblerful. It was hot and muddy and tasted of leather, but, oh, how +delightful it was to their parched palates! The Emir said a few abrupt +words to the dragoman and left. + +“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mansoor began, with something of his old +consequential manner; but a glare from the Colonel's eyes struck the +words from his lips, and he broke away into a long, whimpering excuse +for his conduct. + +“How could I do anything otherwise,” he wailed, “with the very knife at +my throat?” + +“You will have the very rope round your throat if we all see Egypt +again,” growled Cochrane, savagely. “In the meantime--” + +“That's all right, Colonel,” said Belmont. “But for our own sakes we +ought to know what the chief has said.” + +“For my part I'll have nothing to do with the blackguard.” + +“I think that that is going too far. We are bound to hear what he has to +say.” + +Cochrane shrugged his shoulders. Privations had made him irritable, and +he had to bite his lip to keep down a bitter answer. He walked slowly +away, with his straight-legged military stride. + +“What did he say then?” asked Belmont, looking at the dragoman with an +eye which was as stern as the Colonel's. + +“He seems to be in a somewhat better manner than before. He said that +if he had more water you should have it, but that he is himself short in +supply. He said that tomorrow we shall come to the wells of Selimah, and +everybody shall have plenty--and the camels too.” + +“Did he say how long we stopped here?” + +“Very little rest, he said, and then forwards! Oh, Mr. Belmont----” + +“Hold your tongue!” snapped the Irishman, and began once more to count +times and distances. If it all worked out as he expected, if his wife +had insisted upon the indolent reis giving an instant alarm at Haifa, +then the pursuers should be already upon their track. The Camel Corps or +the Egyptian Horse would travel by moonlight better and faster than in +the daytime. He knew that it was the custom at Haifa to keep at least a +squadron of them all ready to start at any instant. He had dined at +the mess, and the officers had told him how quickly they could take +the field. They had shown him the water-tanks and the food beside each +beast, and he had admired the completeness of the arrangements, with +little thought as to what it might mean to him in the future. It would +be at least an hour before they would all get started again from their +present halting-place. That would be a clear hour gained. Perhaps by +next morning---- + +And then, suddenly, his thoughts were terribly interrupted. The Colonel, +raving like a madman, appeared upon the crest of the nearest slope, with +an Arab hanging on to each of his wrists. His face was purple with +rage and excitement, and he tugged and bent and writhed in his furious +efforts to get free. “You cursed murderers!” he shrieked, and then, +seeing the others in front of him, “Belmont,” he cried, “they've killed +Cecil Brown.” + +What had happened was this. In his conflict with his own ill-humour, +Cochrane had strolled over this nearest crest, and had found a group of +camels in the hollow beyond, with a little knot of angry, loud-voiced +men beside them. Brown was the centre of the group, pale, heavy-eyed, +with his upturned, spiky moustache and listless manner. They had +searched his pockets before, but now they were determined to tear off +all his clothes in the hope of finding something which he had secreted. +A hideous negro, with silver bangles in his ears, grinned and jabbered +in the young diplomatist's impassive face. There seemed to the Colonel +to be something heroic and almost inhuman in that white calm, and those +abstracted eyes. His coat was already open, and the negro's great black +paw flew up to his neck and tore his shirt down to the waist. And at +the sound of that r-r-rip, and at the abhorrent touch of those coarse +fingers, this man about town, this finished product of the nineteenth +century, dropped his life-traditions and became a savage facing a +savage. + +His face flushed, his lips curled back, he chattered, his teeth like +an ape, and his eyes --those indolent eyes which had always twinkled so +placidly--were gorged and frantic. He threw himself upon the negro, and +struck him again and again, feebly but viciously, in his broad, black +face. He hit like a girl, round arm, with an open palm. The man winced +away for an instant, appalled by this sudden blaze of passion. Then with +an impatient, snarling cry he slid a knife from his long loose sleeve +and struck upwards under the whirling arm. Brown sat down at the blow +and began to cough--to cough as a man coughs who has choked at dinner, +furiously, ceaselessly, spasm after spasm. Then the angry red cheeks +turned to a mottled pallor, there were liquid sounds in his throat, and, +clapping his hand to his mouth, he rolled over on to his side. + +[Illustration: He rolled over on to his side p130] + +The negro, with a brutal grunt of contempt, slid his knife up his sleeve +once more, while the Colonel, frantic with impotent anger, was seized +by the bystanders, and dragged, raving with fury, back to his forlorn +party. His hands were lashed with a camel-halter, and he lay at last, in +bitter silence, beside the delirious Nonconformist. + +So Headingly was gone, and Cecil Brown was gone, and their haggard eyes +were turned from one pale face to another, to know which they should +lose next of that frieze of light-hearted riders who had stood out so +clearly against the blue morning sky, when viewed from the deck-chairs +of the _Korosko_. Two gone out of ten, and a third out of his mind. The +pleasure trip was drawing to its climax. + +Fardet, the Frenchman, was sitting alone with his chin resting upon his +hands, and his elbows upon his knees, staring miserably out over the +desert, when Belmont saw him start suddenly and prick up his head like +a dog who hears a strange step. Then, with clenched fingers, he bent his +face forward and stared fixedly towards the black eastern hills through +which they had passed. Belmont followed his gaze, and, yes--yes--there +was something moving there! He saw the twinkle of metal, and the sudden +gleam and flutter of some white garment. + +A Dervish vedette upon the flank turned his camel twice round as a +danger signal, and discharged his rifle in the air. The echo of the +crack had hardly died away before they were all in their saddles, Arabs +and negroes. Another instant, and the camels were on their feet and +moving slowly towards the point of alarm. Several armed men surrounded +the prisoners, slipping cartridges into their Remingtons as a hint to +them to remain still. + +“By Heaven, they are men on camels!” cried Cochrane, his troubles all +forgotten as he strained his eyes to catch sight of these new-comers. +“I do believe that it is our own people.” In the confusion he had tugged +his hands free from the halter which bound them. + +“They've been smarter than I gave them credit for,” said Belmont, his +eyes shining from under his thick brows. “They are here a long two hours +before we could have reasonably expected them. Hurrah, Monsieur Fardet, +_ça va bien, n'est ce pas?_” + +“Hurrah, hurrah! _merveilleusement bien! Vivent les Anglais! Vivent +les Anglais!_” yelled the excited Frenchman, as the head of a column of +camelry began to wind out from among the rocks. + +“See here, Belmont,” cried the Colonel. “These fellows will want to +shoot us if they see it is all up. I know their ways, and we must be +ready for it. Will you be ready to jump on the fellow with the blind +eye, and I'll take the big nigger, if I can get my arms around him. +Stephens, you must do what you can. You, Fardet, _comprenez vous? Il +est nécessaire_ to plug these Johnnies before they can hurt us. +You, dragoman, tell those two Soudanese soldiers that they must be +ready--but, but----” his words died into a murmur and he swallowed once +or twice. “These are Arabs,” said he, and it sounded like another voice. + +Of all the bitter day, it was the very bitterest moment. Happy Mr. +Stuart lay upon the pebbles with his back against the ribs of his +camel, and chuckled consumedly at some joke which those busy little +cell-workers had come across in their repairs. + +His fat face was wreathed and creased with merriment. But the others, +how sick, how heart-sick, were they all! The women cried. The men turned +away in that silence which is beyond tears. Monsieur Fardet fell upon +his face, and shook with dry sobbings. + +The Arabs were firing their rifles as a welcome to their friends, and +the others as they trotted their camels across the open returned the +salutes and waved their rifles and lances in the air. They were a +smaller band than the first one,--not more than thirty,--but dressed in +the same red head-gear and patched jibbehs. One of them carried a small +white banner with a scarlet text scrawled across it. But there was +something there which drew the eyes and the thoughts of the tourists +away from everything else. The same fear gripped at each of their +hearts, and the same impulse kept each of them silent. They stared at a +swaying white figure half seen amidst the ranks of the desert warriors. + +“What's that they have in the middle of them?” cried Stephens at last. +“Look, Miss Adams! Surely it is a woman!” + +There was something there upon a camel, but it was difficult to catch +a glimpse of it. And then suddenly, as the two bodies met, the riders +opened out, and they saw it plainly. “It's a white woman!” “The steamer +has been taken!” Belmont gave a cry that sounded high above everything. + +[Illustration: Norah, darling, keep your heart up p135] + +“Norah, darling,” he shouted, “keep your heart up! I'm here, and it is +all well!” + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +So the _Korosko_ had been taken, and the chances of rescue upon which +they had reckoned--all those elaborate calculations of hours and +distances--were as unsubstantial as the mirage which shimmered upon the +horizon. There would be no alarm at Haifa until it was found that the +steamer did not return in the evening. Even now, when the Nile was only +a thin green band upon the farthest horizon, the pursuit had probably +not begun. In a hundred miles or even less they would be in the Dervish +country. How small, then, was the chance that the Egyptian forces could +overtake them. They all sank into a silent, sulky despair, with the +exception of Belmont, who was held back by the guards as he strove to go +to his wife's assistance. + +The two bodies of camel-men had united, and the Arabs, in their grave, +dignified fashion, were exchanging salutations and experiences, +while the negroes grinned, chattered, and shouted, with the careless +good-humour which even the Koran has not been able to alter. The leader +of the new-comers was a greybeard, a worn, ascetic, high-nosed old +man, abrupt and fierce in his manner, and soldierly in his bearing. The +dragoman groaned when he saw him, and flapped his hands miserably with +the air of a man who sees trouble accumulating upon trouble. + +“It is the Emir Abderrahman,” said he. “I fear now that we shall never +come to Khartoum alive.” + +The name meant nothing to the others, but Colonel Cochrane had heard of +him as a monster of cruelty and fanaticism, a red-hot Moslem of the +old fighting, preaching dispensation, who never hesitated to carry the +fierce doctrines of the Koran to their final conclusions. He and the +Emir Wad Ibrahim conferred gravely together, their camels side by side, +and their red turbans inclined inwards, so that the black beard mingled +with the white one. Then they both turned and stared long and fixedly at +the poor, head-hanging huddle of prisoners. The younger man pointed and +explained, while his senior listened with a sternly impassive face. + +“Who's that nice-looking old gentleman in the white beard?” asked Miss +Adams, who had been the first to rally from the bitter disappointment. + +“That is their leader now,” Cochrane answered. + +“You don't say that he takes command over that other one?” + +“Yes, lady,” said the dragoman; “he is now the head of all.” + +“Well, that's good for us. He puts me in mind of Elder Mathews, who +was at the Presbyterian Church in minister Scott's time. Anyhow, I had +rather be in his power than in the hands of that black-haired one with +the flint eyes. Sadie, dear, you feel better now its cooler, don't you?” + +“Yes, Auntie; don't you fret about me. How are you yourself?” + +“Well, I'm stronger in faith than I was. + +“They haven't hurt you, Norah, have they?” + +“I set you a poor example, Sadie, for I was clean crazed at first at the +suddenness of it all, and at thinking of what your mother, who trusted +you to me, would think about it. My land, there'll be some headlines in +the _Boston Herald_ over this! I guess somebody will have to suffer for +it.” + +“Poor Mr. Stuart!” cried Sadie, as the monotonous, droning voice of the +delirious man came again to their ears. “Come, Auntie, and see if we +cannot do something to relieve him.” + +“I'm uneasy about Mrs. Shlesinger and the child,” said Colonel Cochrane. +“I can see your wife, Belmont, but I can see no one else.” + +“They are bringing her over,” cried he. “Thank God! We shall hear all +about it. They haven't hurt you, Norah, have they?” He ran forward to +grasp and kiss the hand which his wife held down to him as he helped her +from the camel. + +[Illustration: They haven't hurt you, Norah, have they p139] + +The kind, grey eyes and calm, sweet face of the Irishwoman brought +comfort and hope to the whole party. She was a devout Roman Catholic, +and it is a creed which forms an excellent prop in hours of danger. +To her, to the Anglican Colonel, to the Nonconformist minister, to the +Presbyterian American, even to the two Pagan black riflemen, religion in +its various forms was fulfilling the same beneficent office,--whispering +always that the worst which the world can do is a small thing, and that, +however harsh the ways of Providence may seem, it is, on the whole, the +wisest and best thing for us that we should go cheerfully whither the +Great Hand guides us. They had not a dogma in common, these fellows in +misfortune, but they held the intimate, deep-lying spirit, the calm, +essential fatalism which is the world-old framework of religion, with +fresh crops of dogmas growing like ephemeral lichens upon its granite +surface. + +“You poor things,” she said. “I can see that you have had a much worse +time than I have. No, really, John, dear, I am quite well,--not even +very thirsty, for our party filled their waterskins at the Nile, and +they let me have as much as I wanted. But I don't see Mr. Headingly and +Mr. Brown. And poor Mr. Stuart,--what a state he has been reduced to!” + +“Headingly and Brown are out of their troubles,” her husband answered. +“You don't know how often I have thanked God to-day, Norah, that you +were not with us. And here you are, after all.” + +“Where should I be but by my husband's side? I had much, _much_ rather +be here than safe at Haifa.” + +“Has any news gone to the town?” asked the Colonel. + +“One boat escaped. Mrs. Shlesinger and her child and maid were in it. I +was downstairs in my cabin when the Arabs rushed on to the vessel. Those +on deck had time to escape, for the boat was alongside. I don't know +whether any of them were hit. The Arabs fired at them for some time.” + +“Did they?” cried Belmont, exultantly, his responsive Irish nature +catching the sunshine in an instant. “Then, be Jove, we'll do them yet, +for the garrison must have heard the firing. What d'ye think, Cochrane? +They must be full cry upon our scent this four hours. Any minute we +might see the white puggaree of a British officer coming over that +rise.” + +But disappointment had left the Colonel cold and sceptical. + +“They need not come at all unless they come strong,” said he. “These +fellows are picked men with good leaders, and on their own ground they +will take a lot of beating.” Suddenly he paused and looked at the Arabs. +“By George!” said he, “that's a sight worth seeing!” + +[Illustration: Hour of Arab prayer p142] + +The great red sun was down with half its disc slipped behind the violet +bank upon the horizon. It was the hour of Arab prayer. An older and more +learned civilisation would have turned to that magnificent thing upon +the skyline and adored _that_. But these wild children of the desert +were nobler in essentials than the polished Persian. To them the ideal +was higher than the material, and it was with their backs to the sun and +their faces to the central shrine of their religion that they prayed. +And how they prayed, these fanatical Moslems! Wrapt, absorbed, with +yearning eyes and shining faces, rising, stooping, grovelling with their +foreheads upon their praying carpets. Who could doubt, as he watched +their strenuous, heart-whole devotion, that here was a great living +power in the world, reactionary but tremendous, countless millions all +thinking as one from Cape Juby to the confines of China? Let a common +wave pass over them, let a great soldier or organiser arise among them +to use the grand material at his hand, and who shall say that this may +not be the besom with which Providence may sweep the rotten, decadent, +impossible, half-hearted south of Europe, as it did a thousand years +ago, until it makes room for a sounder stock? + +And now as they rose to their feet the bugle rang out, and the prisoners +understood that, having travelled all day, they were fated to travel +all night also. Belmont groaned, for he had reckoned upon the pursuers +catching them up before they left this camp. But the others had already +got into the way of accepting the inevitable. A flat Arab loaf had been +given to each of them--what effort of the _chef_ of the post-boat had +ever tasted like that dry brown bread?--and then, luxury of luxuries, +they had a second ration of a glass of water, for the fresh-filled bags +of the new-comers had provided an ample supply. If the body would but +follow the lead of the soul as readily as the soul does that of the +body, what a heaven the earth might be! Now, with their base material +wants satisfied for the instant, their spirits began to sing within +them, and they mounted their camels with some sense of the romance of +their position. Mr. Stuart remained babbling upon the ground, and the +Arabs made no effort to lift him into his saddle. His large, white, +upturned face glimmered through the gathering darkness. + +“Hi, dragoman, tell them that they are forgetting Mr. Stuart,” cried the +Colonel. + +“No use, sir,” said Mansoor. “They say that he is too fat, and that they +will not take him any farther. He will die, they say, and why should +they trouble about him?” + +“Not take him!” cried Cochrane. “Why, the man will perish of hunger and +thirst. Where's the Emir? Hi!” he shouted, as the black-bearded Arab +passed, with a tone like that in which he used to summon a dilatory +donkey-boy. The chief did not deign to answer him, but said something +to one of the guards, who dashed the butt of his Remington into the +Colonel's ribs. + +[Illustration: The old soldier fell forward gasping p145] + +The old soldier fell forward gasping, and was carried on half senseless, +clutching at the pommel of his saddle. The women began to cry, and the +men with muttered curses and clenched hands writhed in that hell of +impotent passion, where brutal injustice and ill-usage have to go +without check or even remonstrance. Belmont gripped at his hip-pocket +for his little revolver, and then remembered that he had already given +it to Miss Adams. If his hot hand had clutched it, it would have meant +the death of the Emir and the massacre of the party. + +And now as they rode onwards they saw one of the most singular of +the phenomena of the Egyptian desert in front of them, though the ill +treatment of their companion had left them in no humour for appreciating +its beauty. When the sun had sunk, the horizon had remained of a +slaty-violet hue. But now this began to lighten and to brighten until a +curious false dawn developed, and it seemed as if a vacillating sun was +coming back along the path which it had just abandoned. A rosy pink hung +over the west, with beautifully delicate sea-green tints along the upper +edge of it. Slowly these faded into slate again, and the night had come. +It was but twenty-four hours since they had sat in their canvas chairs +discussing politics by starlight on the saloon deck of the _Korosko_; +only twelve since they had breakfasted there and had started spruce and +fresh upon their last pleasure trip. What a world of fresh impressions +had come upon them since then! How rudely they had been jostled out of +their take-it-for-granted complacency! The same shimmering silver stars +as they had looked upon last night, the same thin crescent of moon--but +they, what a chasm lay between that old pampered life and this! + +The long line of camels moved as noiselessly as ghosts across the +desert. Before and behind were the silent swaying white figures of the +Arabs. Not a sound anywhere, not the very faintest sound, until far +away behind them they heard a human voice singing in a strong, droning, +unmusical fashion. It had the strangest effect, this far-away voice, +in that huge inarticulate wilderness. And then there came a well-known +rhythm into that distant chant, and they could almost hear the words: We +nightly pitch our moving tent A day's march nearer home. + +Was Mr. Stuart in his right mind again, or was it some coincidence of +his delirium, that he should have chosen this for his song? With moist +eyes his friends looked back through the darkness, for well they knew +that home was very near to this wanderer. Gradually the voice died away +into a hum, and was absorbed once more into the masterful silence of the +desert. + +“My dear old chap, I hope you're not hurt?” said Belmont, laying his +hand upon Cochrane's knee. + +The Colonel had straightened himself, though he still gasped a little in +his breathing. + +“I am all right again, now. Would you kindly show me which was the man +who struck me?” + +“It was the fellow in front there--with his camel beside Fardet's.” + +“The young fellow with the moustache--I can't see him very well in this +light, but I think I could pick him out again. Thank you, Belmont!” + +“But I thought some of your ribs were gone.” + +“No; it only knocked the wind out of me.” + +“You must be made of iron. It was a frightful blow. How could you rally +from it so quickly?” + +The Colonel cleared his throat and hummed and stammered. + +“The fact is, my dear Belmont--I'm sure you would not let it go +further--above all not to the ladies; but I am rather older than I used +to be, and rather than lose the military carriage which has always been +dear to me, I----” + +“Stays, be Jove!” cried the astonished Irishman. + +“Well, some slight artificial support,” said the Colonel, stiffly, and +switched the conversation off to the chances of the morrow. + +It still comes back in their dreams to those who are left, that long +night's march in the desert. It was like a dream itself, the silence of +it as they were borne forward upon those soft, shuffling sponge feet, +and the flitting, flickering figures which oscillated upon every side of +them. The whole universe seemed to be hung as a monstrous time-dial in +front of them. A star would glimmer like a lantern on the very level +of their path. They looked again, and it was a hand's-breadth up, and +another was shining beneath it. Hour after hour the broad stream flowed +sedately across the deep blue background, worlds and systems drifting +majestically overhead, and pouring over the dark horizon. In their +vastness and their beauty there was a vague consolation to the prisoners +for their own fate, and their own individuality seemed trivial and +unimportant amid the play of such tremendous forces. Slowly the grand +procession swept across the heaven, first climbing, then hanging long +with little apparent motion, and then sinking grandly downwards, until +away in the east the first cold grey glimmer appeared, and their own +haggard faces shocked each other's sight. + +The day had tortured them with its heat, and now the night had brought +the even more intolerable discomfort of cold. The Arabs swathed +themselves in their gowns and wrapped up their heads. The prisoners beat +their hands together and shivered miserably. Miss Adams felt it most, +for she was very thin, with the impaired circulation of age. Stephens +slipped off his Norfolk jacket and threw it over her shoulders. He rode +beside Sadie, and whistled and chatted to make her believe that her aunt +was really relieving him by carrying his jacket for him, but the attempt +was too boisterous not to be obvious. And yet it was so far true that he +probably felt the cold less than any of the party, for the old, old fire +was burning in his heart, and a curious joy was inextricably mixed with +all his misfortunes, so that he would have found it hard to say if this +adventure had been the greatest evil or the greatest blessing of his +lifetime. Aboard the boat, Sadie's youth, her beauty, her intelligence +and humour, all made him realise that she could at the best only be +expected to charitably endure him. But now he felt that he was really of +some use to her, that every hour she was learning to turn to him as one +turns to one's natural protector; and above all, he had begun to find +himself--to understand that there really was a strong, reliable man +behind all the tricks of custom which had built up an artificial nature, +which had imposed even upon himself. A little glow of self-respect began +to warm his blood. He had missed his youth when he was young, and now in +his middle age it was coming up like some beautiful belated flower. + +“I do believe that you are all the time enjoying it, Mr. Stephens,” said +Sadie, with some bitterness. + +“I would not go so far as to say that,” he answered. “But I am quite +certain that I would not leave you here.” + +[Illustration: Certain that I would not leave you here p152] + +It was the nearest approach to tenderness which he had ever put into a +speech, and the girl looked at him in surprise. + +“I think I've been a very wicked girl all my life,” she said, after a +pause. “Because I have had a good time myself, I never thought of those +who were unhappy. This has struck me serious. If ever I get back I shall +be a better woman--a more earnest woman--in the future.” + +“And I a better man. I suppose it is just for that that trouble comes +to us. Look how it has brought out the virtues of all our friends. Take +poor Mr. Stuart, for example. Should we ever have known what a noble, +constant man he was? And see Belmont and his wife, in front of us, +there, going fearlessly forward, hand in hand, thinking only of each +other. And Cochrane, who always seemed on board the boat to be a rather +stand-offish, narrow sort of man! Look at his courage, and his unselfish +indignation when any one is ill used. Fardet, too, is as brave as a +lion. I think misfortune has done us all good.” + +Sadie sighed. + +“Yes, if it would end right here one might say so. But if it goes on and +on for a few weeks or months of misery, and then ends in death, I don't +know where we reap the benefit of those improvements of character which +it brings. Suppose you escape, what will you do'?” + +The lawyer hesitated, but his professional instincts were still strong. + +“I will consider whether an action lies, and against whom. It should +be with the organisers of the expedition for taking us to the Abousir +Rock--or else with the Egyptian Government for not protecting their +frontiers. It will be a nice legal question. And what will you do, +Sadie?” + +It was the first time that he had ever dropped the formal Miss, but the +girl was too much in earnest to notice it. + +“I will be more tender to others,” she said. “I will try to make some +one else happy in memory of the miseries which I have endured.” + +“You have done nothing all your life but made others happy. You cannot +help doing it,” said he. The darkness made it more easy for him to break +through the reserve which was habitual with him. “You need this rough +schooling far less than any of us. How could your character be changed +for the better?” + +“You show how little you know me. I have been very selfish and +thoughtless.” + +“At least you had no need for all these strong emotions. You were +sufficiently alive without them. Now it has been different with me.” + +“Why did you need emotions, Mr. Stephens'?” + +“Because anything is better than stagnation. Pain is better than +stagnation. I have only just begun to live. Hitherto I have been +a machine upon the earth's surface. I was a one-ideaed man, and a +one-ideaed man is only one remove from a dead man. That is what I +have only just begun to realise. For all these years I have never been +stirred, never felt a real throb of human emotion pass through me. I had +no time for it. I had observed it in others, and I had vaguely wondered +whether there was some want in me which prevented my sharing the +experience of my fellow-mortals. But now these last few days have +taught me how keenly I can live--that I can have warm hopes and deadly +fears--that I can hate and that I can--well, that I can have every +strong feeling which the soul can experience. I have come to life. I +may be on the brink of the grave, but at least I can say now that I have +lived.” + +“And why did you lead this soul-killing life in England?” + +“I was ambitious--I wanted to get on. And then there were my mother and +my sisters to be thought of. Thank Heaven, here is the morning coming. +Your aunt and you will soon cease to feel the cold.” + +“And you without your coat?” + +“Oh, I have a very good circulation. I can manage very well in my +shirt-sleeves.” + +And now the long, cold, weary night was over, and the deep blue-black +sky had lightened to a wonderful mauve-violet, with the larger stars +still glinting brightly out of it. Behind them the grey line had +crept higher and higher, deepening into a delicate rose-pink, with the +fan-like rays of the invisible sun shooting and quivering across it. +Then, suddenly, they felt its warm touch upon their backs, and there +were hard black shadows upon the sand in front of them. The Dervishes +loosened their cloaks and proceeded to talk cheerily among themselves. +The prisoners also began to thaw, and eagerly ate the doora which was +served out for their breakfasts. A short halt had been called, and a cup +of water handed to each. + +“Can I speak to you, Colonel Cochrane?” asked the dragoman. + +“No, you can't,” snapped the Colonel. + +“But it is very important--all our safety may come from it.” + +The Colonel frowned and pulled at his moustache. + +“Well, what is it?” he asked, at last. + +“You must trust to me, for it is as much to me as to you to get back to +Egypt. My wife and home, and children, are on one part, and a slave for +life upon the other. You have no cause to doubt it.” + +“Well, go on!” + +“You know the black man who spoke with you--the one who had been with +Hicks?” + +“Yes, what of him?” + +“He has been speaking with me during the night. I have had a long talk +with him. He said that he could not very well understand you, nor you +him, and so he came to me.” + +“What did he say?” + +“He said that there were eight Egyptian soldiers among the Arabs--six +black and two fellaheen. He said that he wished to have your promise +that they should all have very good reward if they helped you to +escape.” + +“Of course they shall.” + +“They asked for one hundred Egyptian pounds each.” + +“They shall have it.” + +“I told him that I would ask you, but that I was sure that you would +agree to it.” + +“What do they purpose to do?” + +“They could promise nothing, but what they thought best was that they +should ride their camels not very far from you, so that if any chance +should come they would be ready to take advantage.” + +“Well, you can go to him and promise two hundred pounds each if they +will help us. You do not think we could buy over some Arabs?” + +Mansoor shook his head. “Too much danger to try,” said he. “Suppose you +try and fail, then that will be the end to all of us. I will go tell +what you have said.” He strolled off to where the old negro gunner was +grooming his camel and waiting for his reply. + +The Emirs had intended to halt for a half-hour at the most, but the +baggage-camels which bore the prisoners were so worn out with the long, +rapid march, that it was clearly impossible that they should move for +some time. They had laid their long necks upon the ground, which is +the last symptom of fatigue. The two chiefs shook their heads when they +inspected them, and the terrible old man looked with his hard-lined, +rock features at the captives. Then he said something to Mansoor, whose +face turned a shade more sallow as he listened. + +“The Emir Abderrahman says that if you do not become Moslem, it is not +worth while delaying the whole caravan in order to carry you upon the +baggage-camels. If it were not for you, he says that we could travel +twice as fast. He wishes to know therefore, once for ever, if you +will accept the Koran.” Then in the same tone, as if he were still +translating, he continued: “You had far better consent, for if you do +not he will most certainly put you all to death.” + +The unhappy prisoners looked at each other in despair. The two Emirs +stood gravely watching them. + +“For my part,” said Cochrane, “I had as soon die now as be a slave in +Khartoum!” + +“What do you say, Norah?” asked Belmont. + +“If we die together, John, I don't think I shall be afraid.” + +“It is absurd that I should die for that in which I have never had +belief,” said Fardet. “And yet it is not possible for the honour of a +Frenchman that he should be converted in this fashion.” He drew himself +up, with his wounded wrist stuck into the front of his jacket, “_Je suis +Chrétien. J'y reste,_” he cried, a gallant falsehood in each sentence. + +“What do you say, Mr. Stephens?” asked Mansoor, in a beseeching voice. +“If one of you would change, it might place them in a good humour. I +implore you that you do what they ask.” + +“No, I can't,” said the lawyer, quietly. + +“Well then, you, Miss Sadie? You, Miss Adams? It is only just to say it +once, and you will be saved.” + +“Oh, Auntie, do you think we might?” whimpered the frightened girl. +“Would it be so very wrong if we said it?” + +The old lady threw her arms round her. + +“No, no, my own dear little Sadie,” she whispered. “You'll be strong! +You would just hate yourself for ever after. Keep your grip of me, dear, +and pray if you find your strength is leaving you. Don't forget that +your old aunt Eliza has you all the time by the hand.” + +For an instant they were heroic, this line of dishevelled, bedraggled +pleasure-seekers. They were all looking Death in the face, and the +closer they looked the less they feared him. They were conscious rather +of a feeling of curiosity, together with the nervous tingling with which +one approaches a dentist's chair. The dragoman made a motion of +his hands and shoulders, as one who has tried and failed. The Emir +Abderrahman said something to a negro, who hurried away. + +“What does he want a scissors for?” asked the Colonel. + +“He is going to hurt the women,” said Mansoor, with the same gesture of +impotence. + +A cold chill fell upon them all. They stared about them in helpless +horror. Death in the abstract was one thing, but these insufferable +details were another. Each had been braced to endure any evil in his own +person, but their hearts were still soft for each other. The women said +nothing, but the men were all buzzing together. + +“There's the pistol, Miss Adams,” said Belmont. + +“Give it here! We won't be tortured! We won't stand it!” + +“Offer them money, Mansoor! Offer them anything!” cried Stephens. “Look. +here, I'll turn Mohammedan if they'll promise to leave the women alone. +After all, it isn't binding--it's under compulsion. But I can't see the +women hurt.” + +“No, wait a bit, Stephens!” said the Colonel. “We mustn't lose our +heads. I think I see a way out. See here, dragoman! You tell that +grey-bearded old devil that we know nothing about his cursed tinpot +religion. Put it smooth when you translate it. Tell him that he cannot +expect us to adopt it until we know what particular brand of rot it is +that he wants us to believe. Tell him that if he will instruct us, we +are perfectly willing to listen to his teaching, and you can add that +any creed which turns out such beauties as him, and that other bounder +with the black beard, must claim the attention of every one.” + +With bows and suppliant sweepings of his hands the dragoman explained +that the Christians were already full of doubt, and that it needed but +a little more light of knowledge to guide them on to the path of Allah. +The two Emirs stroked their beards and gazed suspiciously at them. Then +Abderrahman spoke in his crisp, stern fashion to the dragoman, and the +two strode away together. An instant later the bugle rang out as a +signal to mount. + +“What he says is this,” Mansoor explained, as he rode in the middle of +the prisoners. “We shall reach the wells by mid-day, and there will be a +rest. His own Moolah, a very good and learned man, will come to give you +an hour of teaching. At the end of that time you will choose one way or +the other. When you have chosen, it will be decided whether you are to +go to Khartoum or to be put to death. That is his last word.” + +“They won't take ransom?” + +“Wad Ibrahim would, but the Emir Abderrahman is a terrible man. I +advise you to give in to him.” + +“What have you done yourself? You are a Christian, too.” + +Mansoor blushed as deeply as his complexion would allow. + +“I was yesterday morning. Perhaps I will be to-morrow morning. I serve +the Lord as long as what He ask seem reasonable; but this is very +otherwise.” + +He rode onwards amongst the guards with a freedom which showed that his +change of faith had put him upon a very different footing to the other +prisoners. + +So they were to have a reprieve of a few hours, though they rode in that +dark shadow of death which was closing in upon them. + +What is there in life that we should cling to it so? It is not the +pleasures, for those whose hours are one long pain shrink away screaming +when they see merciful Death holding his soothing arms out for them. It +is not the associations, for we will change all of them before we walk +of our own free wills down that broad road which every son and daughter +of man must tread. Is it the fear of losing the I, that dear, intimate +I, which we think we know so well, although it is eternally doing things +which surprise us? Is it that which makes the deliberate suicide cling +madly to the bridge-pier as the river sweeps him by? Or is it that +Nature is so afraid that all her weary workmen may suddenly throw down +their tools and strike, that she has invented this fashion of keeping +them constant to their present work? But there it is, and all these +tired, harassed, humiliated folk rejoiced in the few more hours of +suffering which were left to them. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +There was nothing to show them as they journeyed onwards that they were +not on the very spot that they had passed at sunset upon the evening +before. The region of fantastic black hills and orange sand which +bordered the river had long been left behind, and everywhere now was the +same brown, rolling, gravelly plain, the ground-swell with the shining +rounded pebbles upon its surface, and the occasional little sprouts of +sage-green camel-grass. Behind and before it extended, to where far away +in front of them it sloped upwards towards a line of violet hills. The +sun was not high enough yet to cause the tropical shimmer, and the wide +landscape, brown with its violet edging, stood out with a hard clearness +in that dry, pure air. The long caravan straggled along at the slow +swing of the baggage-camels. Far out on the flanks rode the vedettes, +halting at every rise, and peering backwards with their hands shading +their eyes. In the distance their spears and rifles seemed to stick out +of them, straight and thin, like needles in knitting. + +“How far do you suppose we are from the Nile?” asked Cochrane. He rode +with his chin on his shoulder and his eyes straining wistfully to the +eastern sky-line. + +“A good fifty miles,” Belmont answered. + +“Not so much as that,” said the Colonel. “We could not have been moving +more than fourteen or fifteen hours, and a camel seldom goes more than +two and a half miles an hour unless he is trotting. That would give +about forty miles, but still it is, I fear, rather far for a rescue. I +don't know that we are much the better for this postponement. What have +we to hope for? We may just as well take our gruel.” + +“Never say die!” cried the cheery Irishman. “There's plenty of time +between this and mid-day. Hamilton and Hedley of the Camel Corps are +good boys, and they'll be after us like a streak. They'll have no +baggage-camels to hold them back, you can lay your life on that! Little +did I think, when I dined with them at mess that last night, and they +were telling me all their precautions against a raid, that I should +depend upon them for our lives.” + +“Well, we'll play the game out, but I'm not very hopeful,” said +Cochrane. “Of course, we must keep the best face we can before the +women. I see that Tippy Tilly is as good as his word, for those five +niggers and the two brown Johnnies must be the men he speaks of. They +all ride together and keep well up, but I can't see how they are going +to help us.” + +“I've got my pistol back,” whispered Belmont, and his square chin and +strong mouth set like granite. “If they try any games on the women, I +mean to shoot them all three with my own hand, and then we'll die with +our minds easy.” + +“Good man!” said Cochrane, and they rode on in silence. None of them +spoke much. A curious, dreamy, irresponsible feeling crept over them. +It was as if they had all taken some narcotic drug--the merciful anodyne +which Nature uses when a great crisis has fretted the nerves too +far. They thought of their friends and of their past lives in the +comprehensive way in which one views that which is completed. A subtle +sweetness mingled with the sadness of their fate. They were filled with +the quiet serenity of despair. + +“It's devilish pretty,” said the Colonel, looking about him. “I always +had an idea that I should like to die in a real, good, yellow London +fog. You couldn't change for the worse.” + +“I should have liked to have died in my sleep,” said Sadie. “How +beautiful to wake up and find yourself in the other world! There was a +piece that Hetty Smith used to say at the college, 'Say not good-night, +but in some brighter world wish me good-morning.'” + +The Puritan aunt shook her head at the idea. “It's a terrible thing to +go unprepared into the presence of your Maker,” said she. + +“It's the loneliness of death that is terrible,” said Mrs. Belmont. “If +we and those whom we loved all passed over simultaneously, we should +think no more of it than of changing our house.” + +“If the worst comes to the worst, we won't be lonely,” said her husband. +“We'll all go together, and we shall find Brown and Headingly and Stuart +waiting on the other side.” + +The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. He had no belief in survival after +death, but he envied the two Catholics the quiet way in which they took +things for granted. He chuckled to think of what his friends in the Café +Cubat would say if they learned that he had laid down his life for the +Christian faith. Sometimes it amused and sometimes it maddened him, and +he rode onwards with alternate gusts of laughter and of fury, nursing +his wounded wrist all the time like a mother with a sick baby. + +Across the brown of the hard, pebbly desert there had been visible for +some time a single long, thin, yellow streak, extending north and south +as far as they could see. It was a band of sand not more than a few +hundred yards across, and rising at the highest to eight or ten feet. +But the prisoners were astonished to observe that the Arabs pointed at +this with an air of the utmost concern, and they halted when they came +to the edge of it like men upon the brink of an unfordable river. It +was very light, dusty sand, and every wandering breath of wind sent it +dancing into the air like a whirl of midges. The Emir Abderrahman tried +to force his camel into it, but the creature, after a step or two, stood +still and shivered with terror. + +[Illustration: The creature, stood still p171] + +The two chiefs talked for a little, and then the whole caravan trailed +off with their heads for the north, and the streak of sand upon their +left. + +“What is it?” asked Belmont, who found the dragoman riding at his elbow. +“Why are we going out of our course?” + +“Drift sand,” Mansoor answered. “Every sometimes the wind bring it all +in one long place like that. To-morrow, if a wind comes, perhaps there +will not be one grain left, but all will be carried up into the air +again. An Arab will sometimes have to go fifty or a hundred miles to go +round a drift. Suppose he tries to cross, his camel breaks its legs, and +he himself is sucked in and swallowed.” + +“How long will this be?” + +“No one can say.” + +“Well, Cochrane, it's all in our favour. The longer the chase the better +chance for the fresh camels!” and for the hundredth time he looked +back at the long, hard skyline behind them. There was the great, empty, +dun-coloured desert, but where the glint of steel or the twinkle of +white helmet for which he yearned? + +And soon they cleared the obstacle in their front. It spindled away into +nothing, as a streak of dust would which has been blown across an empty +room. It was curious to see that when it was so narrow that one could +almost jump it, the Arabs would still go for many hundreds of yards +rather than risk the crossing. Then, with good, hard country before them +once more, the tired beasts were whipped up, and they ambled on with a +double-jointed jog-trot, which set the prisoners nodding and bowing in +grotesque and ludicrous misery. It was fun at first, and they smiled +at each other, but soon the fun had become tragedy as the terrible +camel-ache seized them by spine and waist, with its deep, dull throb, +which rises gradually to a splitting agony. + +“I can't stand it, Sadie,” cried Miss Adams, suddenly. “I've done my +best. I'm going to fall.” + +“No, no, Auntie, you'll break your limbs if you do. Hold up, just a +little, and maybe they'll stop.” + +“Lean back, and hold your saddle behind,” said the Colonel. “There, +you'll find that will ease the strain.” He took the puggaree from his +hat, and, tying the ends together, he slung it over her front pommel. +“Put your foot in the loop,” said he. “It will steady you like a +stirrup.” + +The relief was instant, so Stephens did the same for Sadie. But +presently one of the weary doora camels came down with a crash, its +limbs starred out as if it had split asunder, and the caravan had to +come down to its old sober gait. + +“Is this another belt of drift sand?” asked the Colonel, presently. + +“No, it's white,” said Belmont. “Here, Mansoor, what is that in front of +us?” + +But the dragoman shook his head. + +“I don't know what it is, sir. I never saw the same thing before.” + +Right across the desert, from north to south, there was drawn a white +line, as straight and clear as if it had been slashed with chalk across +a brown table. It was very thin, but it extended without a break from +horizon to horizon. Tippy Tilly said something to the dragoman. + +“It's the great caravan route,” said Mansoor. + +[Illustration: The great caravan route p 174] + +“What makes it white, then?” + +“The bones.” + +It seemed incredible, and yet it was true, for as they drew nearer they +saw that it was indeed a beaten track across the desert, hollowed out by +long usage, and so covered with bones that they gave the impression of +a continuous white ribbon. Long, snouty heads were scattered everywhere, +and the lines of ribs were so continuous that it looked in places like +the framework of a monstrous serpent. The endless road gleamed in the +sun as if it were paved with ivory. For thousands of years this had been +the highway over the desert, and during all that time no animal of all +those countless caravans had died there without being preserved by the +dry, antiseptic air. No wonder, then, that it was hardly possible to +walk down it now without treading upon their skeletons. + +“This must be the route I spoke of,” said Stephens. “I remember marking +it upon the map I made for you, Miss Adams. Baedeker says that it has +been disused on account of the cessation of all trade which followed the +rise of the Dervishes, but that it used to be the main road by which the +skins and gums of Darfur found their way down to Lower Egypt.” + +They looked at it with a listless curiosity, for there was enough to +engross them at present in their own fates. The caravan struck to the +south along the old desert track, and this Golgotha of a road seemed to +be a fitting avenue for that which awaited them at the end of it. Weary +camels and weary riders dragged on together towards their miserable +goal. + +And now, as the critical moment approached which was to decide their +fate, Colonel Cochrane, weighed down by his fears lest something +terrible should befall the women, put his pride aside to the extent of +asking the advice, of the renegade dragoman. The fellow was a villain +and a coward, but at least he was an Oriental, and he understood the +Arab point of view. His change of religion had brought him into closer +contact with the Dervishes, and he had overheard their intimate talk. +Cochrane's stiff, aristocratic nature fought hard before he could bring +himself to ask advice from such a man, and when he at last did so, it +was in the gruffest and most unconciliatory voice. + +“You know the rascals, and you have the same way of looking at things,” + said he. “Our object is to keep things going for another twenty-four +hours. After that it does not much matter what befalls us, for we shall +be out of the reach of rescue. But how can we stave them off for another +day?” + +“You know my advice,” the dragoman answered; “I have already answered it +to you. If you will all become as I have, you will certainly be +carried to Khartoum alive. If you do not, you will never leave our next +camping-place alive.” + +The Colonel's well-curved nose took a higher tilt, and an angry flush +reddened his thin cheeks. He rode in silence for a little, for his +Indian service had left him with a curried-prawn temper, which had had +an extra touch of cayenne added to it by his recent experiences. It was +some minutes before he could trust himself to reply. + +“We'll set that aside,” said he, at last. + +“Some things are possible and some are not. This is not.” + +“You need only pretend.” + +“That's enough,” said the Colonel, abruptly. + +Mansoor shrugged his shoulders. + +“What is the use of asking me, if you become angry when I answer? If you +do not wish to do what I say, then try your own attempt. At least you +cannot say that I have not done all I could to save you.” + +“I'm not angry,” the Colonel answered, after a pause, in a more +conciliatory voice, “but this is climbing down rather farther than we +care to go. Now, what I thought is this. You might, if you chose, give +this priest, or Moolah, who is coming to us, a hint that we really are +softening a bit upon the point. I don't think, considering the hole that +we are in, that there can be very much objection to that. Then, when +he comes, we might play up and take an interest and ask for more +instruction, and in that way hold the matter over for a day or two. +Don't you think that would be the best game?” + +“You will do as you like,” said Mansoor. “I have told you once for ever +what I think. If you wish that I speak to the Moolah, I will do so. +It is the fat, little man with the grey beard, upon the brown camel in +front there. I may tell you that he has a name among them for converting +the infidel, and he has a great pride in it, so that he would certainly +prefer that you were not injured if he thought that he might bring you +into Islam.” + +“Tell him that our minds are open then,” said the Colonel. “I don't +suppose the _padre_ would have gone so far, but now that he is dead I +think we may stretch a point. You go to him, Mansoor, and if you work it +well we will agree to forget what is past. By the way, has Tippy Tilly +said anything?” + +“No, sir. He has kept his men together, but he does not understand yet +how he can help you.” + +“Neither do I. Well, you go to the Moolah, and I'll tell the others what +we have agreed.” + +The prisoners all acquiesced in the Colonel's plan, with the exception +of the old New England lady, who absolutely refused even to show any +interest in the Mohammedan creed. “I guess I am too old to bow the knee +to Baal,” she said. The most that she would concede was that she would +not openly interfere with anything which her companions might say or do. + +“And who is to argue with the priest?” asked Fardet, as they all rode +together, talking the matter over. “It is very important that it should +be done in a natural way, for if he thought that we were only trying to +gain time he would refuse to have any more to say to us.” + +“I think Cochrane should do it, as the proposal is his,” said Belmont. + +“Pardon me!” cried the Frenchman. “I will not say a word against our +friend the Colonel, but it is not possible that a man should be fitted +for everything. It will all come to nothing if he attempts it. The +priest will see through the Colonel.” + +“Will he?” said the Colonel, with dignity. + +“Yes, my friend, he will, for like most of your countrymen, you are very +wanting in sympathy for the ideas of other people, and it is the great +fault which I find with you as a nation.” + +“Oh, drop the politics!” cried Belmont, impatiently. + +“I do not talk politics. What I say is very practical. How can Colonel +Cochrane pretend to this priest that he is really interested in his +religion when, in effect, there is no religion in the world to him +outside some little church in which he has been born and bred? I +will say this for the Colonel, that I do not believe he is at all a +hypocrite, and I am sure that he could not act well enough to deceive +such a man as this priest.” + +The Colonel sat with a very stiff back and the blank face of a man who +is not quite sure whether he is being complimented or insulted. + +“You can do the talking yourself if you like,” said he at last. “I +should be very glad to be relieved of it.” + +“I think that I am best fitted for it, since I am equally interested in +all creeds. When I ask for information, it is because in verity I desire +it, and not because I am playing a part.” + +“I certainly think that it would be much better if Monsieur Fardet would +undertake it,” said Mrs. Belmont, with decision, and so the matter was +arranged. + +The sun was now high, and it shone with dazzling brightness upon the +bleached bones which lay upon the road. Again the torture of thirst +fell upon the little group of survivors, and again, as they rode +with withered tongues and crusted lips, a vision of the saloon of the +_Korosko_ danced like a mirage before their eyes, and they saw the white +napery, the wine-cards by the places, the long necks of the bottles, +the siphons upon the sideboard. Sadie, who had borne up so well, became +suddenly hysterical, and her shrieks of senseless laughter jarred +horribly upon their nerves. Her aunt on one side of her and Mr. Stephens +on the other did all they could to soothe her, and at last the weary, +over-strung girl relapsed into something between a sleep and a faint, +hanging limp over her pommel, and only kept from falling by the friends +who clustered round her. The baggage-camels were as weary as their +riders, and again and again they had to jerk at their nose-ropes to +prevent them from lying down. From horizon to horizon stretched that one +hugh arch of speckless blue, and up its monstrous concavity crept the +inexorable sun, like some splendid but barbarous deity, who claimed a +tribute of human suffering as his immemorial right. + +Their course still lay along the old trade route, but their progress was +very slow, and more than once the two Emirs rode back together and shook +their heads as they looked at the weary baggage-camels on which the +prisoners were perched. The greatest laggard of all was one which was +ridden by a wounded Soudanese soldier. It was limping badly with a +strained tendon, and it was only by constant prodding that it could be +kept with the others. The Emir Wad Ibraham raised his Remington, as the +creature hobbled past, and sent a bullet through its brain. The wounded +man flew forwards out of the high saddle, and fell heavily upon the hard +track. His companions in misfortune, looking back, saw him stagger to +his feet with a dazed face. At the same instant a Baggara slipped down +from his camel with a sword in his hand. + +[Illustration: Sword in his hand p184] + +“Don't look! don't look!” cried Belmont to the ladies, and they all rode +on with their faces to the south. They heard no sound, but the Baggara +passed them a few minutes afterwards. He was cleaning his sword upon the +hairy neck of his camel, and he glanced at them with a quick, malicious +gleam of his teeth as he trotted by. But those who are at the lowest +pitch of human misery are at least secured against the future. That +vicious, threatening smile which might once have thrilled them left them +now unmoved--or stirred them at most to vague resentment. + +There were many things to interest them in this old trade route, had +they been in a condition to take notice of them. Here and there along +its course were the crumbling remains of ancient buildings, so old +that no date could be assigned to them, but designed in some far-off +civilisation to give the travellers shade from the sun or protection +from the ever-lawless children of the desert. The mud bricks with which +these refuges were constructed showed that the material had been carried +over from the distant Nile. Once, upon the top of a little knoll, they +saw the shattered plinth of a pillar of red Assouan granite, with the +wide-winged symbol of the Egyptian god across it, and the cartouche of +the second Rameses beneath. After three thousand years one cannot get +away from the ineffaceable footprints of the warrior-king. It is surely +the most wonderful survival of history that one should still be able to +gaze upon him, high-nosed and masterful, as he lies with his powerful +arms crossed upon his chest, majestic even in decay, in the Gizeh +Museum. To the captives, the cartouche was a message of hope, as a sign +that they were not outside the sphere of Egypt. “They've left their +card here once, and they may again,” said Belmont, and they all tried to +smile. + +And now they came upon one of the most satisfying sights on which the +human eye can ever rest. Here and there, in the depressions at either +side of the road, there had been a thin scurf of green, which meant that +water was not very far from the surface. And then, quite suddenly, the +track dipped down into a bowl-shaped hollow, with a most dainty group +of palm-trees, and a lovely greensward at the bottom of it. The sun +gleaming upon that brilliant patch of clear, restful colour, with the +dark glow of the bare desert around it, made it shine like the purest +emerald in a setting of burnished copper. And then it was not its beauty +only, but its promise for the future: water, shade, all that weary +travellers could ask for. Even Sadie was revived by the cheery sight, +and the spent camels snorted and stepped out more briskly, stretching +their long necks and sniffing the air as they went. After the unhomely +harshness of the desert, it seemed to all of them that they had never +seen anything more beautiful than this. They looked below at the +greensward with the dark, starlike shadows of the palm-crowns, and then +they looked up at those deep green leaves against the rich blue of the +sky, and they forgot their impending death in the beauty of that Nature +to whose bosom they were about to return. + +The wells in the centre of the grove consisted of seven large and two +small saucerlike cavities filled with peat-coloured water enough to form +a plentiful supply for any caravan. Camels and men drank it greedily, +though it was tainted by the all-pervading natron. The camels were +picketed, the Arabs threw their sleeping-mats down in the shade, and +the prisoners, after receiving a ration of dates and of doora, were told +that they might do what they would during the heat of the day, and that +the Moolah would come to them before sunset. The ladies were given the +thicker shade of an acacia tree, and the men lay down under the palms. +The great green leaves swished slowly above them; they heard the low hum +of the Arab talk, and the dull champing of the camels, and then in an +instant, by that most mysterious and least understood of miracles, one +was in a green Irish valley, and another saw the long straight line +of Commonwealth Avenue, and a third was dining at a little round table +opposite to the bust of Nelson in the Army and Navy Club, and for +him the swishing of the palm branches had been transformed into the +long-drawn hum of Pall Mall. So the spirits went their several ways, +wandering back along strange, untraced tracks of the memory, while the +weary, grimy bodies lay senseless under the palm-trees in the Oasis of +the Libyan Desert. + +[Illustration: Grimy bodies lay senseless under the palm-trees p188] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Colonel Cochrane was awakened from his slumber by some one pulling at +his shoulder. As his eyes opened they fell upon the black, anxious face +of Tippy Tilly, the old Egyptian gunner. His crooked finger was laid +upon his thick, liver-coloured lips, and his dark eyes glanced from left +to right with ceaseless vigilance. + +“Lie quiet! Do not move!” he whispered, in Arabic. “I will lie here +beside you, and they cannot tell me from the others. You can understand +what I am saying?” + +“Yes, if you will talk slowly.” + +“Very good. I have no great trust in this black man, Mansoor. I had +rather talk direct with the Miralai.” + +“What have you to say?” + +“I have waited long, until they should all be asleep, and now in another +hour we shall be called to evening prayer. First of all, here is a +pistol, that you may not say that you are without arms.” + +It was a clumsy, old-fashioned thing, but the Colonel saw the glint of a +percussion-cap upon the nipple, and knew that it was loaded. He slipped +it into the inner pocket of his Norfolk jacket. + +“Thank you,” said he; “speak slowly, so that I may understand you.” + +“There are eight of us who wish to go to Egypt. There are also four +men in your party. One of us, Mehemet Ali, has fastened twelve camels +together, which are the fastest of all save only those which are ridden +by the Emirs. There are guards upon watch, but they are scattered in all +directions. The twelve camels are close beside us here,--those twelve +behind the acacia-tree. If we can only get mounted and started, I do not +think that many can overtake us, and we shall have our rifles for them. +The guards are not strong enough to stop so many of us. The waterskins +are all filled, and we may see the Nile again by to-morrow night.” + +The Colonel could not follow it all, “That is excellent,” said he. “But +what are we to do about the three ladies?” + +The black soldier shrugged his shoulders. + +“Mefeesh!” said he. “One of them is old, and in any case there are +plenty more women if we get back to Egypt. These will not come to any +hurt, but they will be placed in the harem of the Khalija.” + +“What you say is nonsense,” said the Colonel, sternly. “We shall take +our women with us, or we shall not go at all.” + +“I think it is rather you who talk the thing without sense,” the black +man answered, angrily. “How can you ask my companions and me to do that +which must end in failure? For years we have waited for such a chance +as this, and now that it has come, you wish us to throw it away owing to +this foolishness about the women.” + +He understood enough to set a little spring of hope bubbling in his +heart. The last terrible day had left its mark in his livid face and his +hair, which was turning rapidly to grey. He might have been the father +of the spruce, well-preserved soldier who had paced with straight back +and military stride up and down the saloon deck of the _Korosko_. + +“What have we promised you if we come back to Egypt?” asked Cochrane. + +“Two hundred Egyptian pounds and promotion in the army,--all upon the +word of an Englishman.” + +“Very good. Then you shall have three hundred each if you can make some +new plan by which you can take the women with you.” + +Tippy Tilly scratched his woolly head in his perplexity. + +“We might, indeed, upon some excuse, bring three more of the faster +camels round to this place. Indeed, there are three very good camels +among those which are near the cooking-fire. But how are we to get the +women upon them?--and if we had them upon them, we know very well that +they would fall off when they began to gallop. I fear that you men will +fall off, for it is no easy matter to remain upon a galloping camel; but +as to the women, it is impossible. No, we shall leave the women, and if +you will not leave the women, then we shall leave all of you and start +by ourselves.” + +“Very good! Go!” said the Colonel, abruptly, and settled down as if to +sleep once more. He knew that with Orientals it is the silent man who is +most likely to have his way. + +The negro turned and crept away for some little distance, where he was +met by one of his fellaheen comrades, Mehemet Ali, who had charge of the +camels. The two argued for some little time,--for those three hundred +golden pieces were not to be lightly resigned. Then the negro crept back +to Colonel Cochrane. + +“Mehemet Ali has agreed,” said he. “He has gone to put the nose-rope +upon three more of the camels. But it is foolishness, and we are all +going to our death. Now come with me, and we shall awaken the women and +tell them.” + +The Colonel shook his companions and whispered to them what was in the +wind. Belmont and Fardet were ready for any risk. Stephens, to whom the +prospect of a passive death presented little terror, was seized with a +convulsion of fear when he thought of any active exertion to avoid +it, and shivered in all his long, thin limbs. Then he pulled out his +Baedeker and began to write his will upon the fly-leaf, but his hand +twitched so that he was hardly legible. By some strange gymnastic of the +legal mind, a death, even by violence, if accepted quietly, had a place +in the established order of things, while a death which overtook +one galloping frantically over a desert was wholly irregular and +discomposing. It was not dissolution which he feared, but the +humiliation and agony of a fruitless struggle against it. + +Colonel Cochrane and Tippy Tilly had crept together under the shadow of +the great acacia tree to the spot where the women were lying. Sadie and +her aunt lay with their arms round each other, the girl's head pillowed +upon the old woman's bosom. Mrs. Belmont was awake, and entered into the +scheme in an instant. + +“But you must leave me,” said Miss Adams, earnestly. “What does it +matter at my age, anyhow?” + +“No, no, Aunt Eliza; I won't move without you! Don't you think it!” + cried the girl. “You've got to come straight away, or else we both stay +right here where we are.” + +“Come, come, ma'am, there is no time for arguing,” said the Colonel, +roughly. “Our lives all depend upon your making an effort, and we cannot +possibly leave you behind.” + +“But I will fall off.” + +“I'll tie you on with my puggaree. I wish I had the cummerbund which I +lent poor Stuart. Now, Tippy, I think we might make a break for it!” + +But the black soldier had been staring with a disconsolate face out over +the desert, and he turned upon his heel with an oath. + +“There!” said he, sullenly. “You see what comes of all your foolish +talking! You have ruined our chances as well as your own!” + +Half a dozen mounted camel-men had appeared suddenly over the lip of the +bowl-shaped hollow, standing out hard and clear against the evening +sky, where the copper basin met its great blue lid. They were travelling +fast, and waved their rifles as they came. An instant later the bugle +sounded an alarm, and the camp was up with a buzz like an overturned +bee-hive. The Colonel ran back to his companions, and the black soldier +to his camel. Stephens looked relieved, and Belmont sulky, while +Monsieur Fardet raved, with his one uninjured hand in the air. + +“Sacred name of a dog!” he cried. “Is there no end to it, then? Are we +never to come out of the hands of these accursed Dervishes?” + +“Oh, they really are Dervishes, are they?” said the Colonel, in an acid +voice. “You seem to be altering your opinions. I thought they were an +invention of the British Government.” + +The poor fellows' tempers were getting frayed and thin. The Colonel's +sneer was like a match to a magazine, and in an instant the Frenchman +was dancing in front of him with a broken torrent of angry words. His +hand was clutching at Cochrane's throat before Belmont and Stephens +could pull him off. + +“If it were not for your grey hairs----” he said. + +“Damn your impudence!” cried the Colonel. + +“If we have to die, let us die like gentlemen, and not like so many +corner-boys,” said Belmont, with dignity. + +“I only said I was glad to see that Monsieur Fardet had learned +something from his adventures,” the Colonel sneered. + +“Shut up, Cochrane! What do you want to aggravate him for?” cried the +Irishman. + +“Upon my word, Belmont, you forget yourself! I do not permit people to +address me in this fashion.” + +“You should look after your own manners, then.” + +“Gentlemen, gentlemen, here are the ladies!” cried Stephens, and the +angry, overstrained men relapsed into a gloomy silence, pacing up and +down, and jerking viciously at their moustaches. It is a very catching +thing, ill-temper, for even Stephens began to be angry at their anger, +and to scowl at them as they passed him. Here they were at a crisis in +their fate, with the shadow of death above them, and yet their minds +were all absorbed in some personal grievance so slight that they could +hardly put it into words. Misfortune brings the human spirit to a rare +height, but the pendulum still swings. + +But soon their attention was drawn away to more important matters. A +council of war was being held beside the wells, and the two Emirs, stern +and composed, were listening to a voluble report from the leader of the +patrol. The prisoners noticed that, though the fierce, old man stood +like a graven image, the younger Emir passed his hand over his beard +once or twice with a nervous gesture, the thin, brown fingers twitching +among the long, black hair. + +“I believe the Gippies are after us,” said Belmont. “Not very far off +either, to judge by the fuss they are making.” + +“It looks like it. Something has scared them.” + +“Now he's giving orders. What can it be? Here, Mansoor, what is the +matter?” + +The dragoman came running up with the light of hope shining upon his +brown face. + +“I think they have seen something to frighten them. I believe that +the soldiers are behind us. They have given the order to fill the +waterskins, and be ready for a start when the darkness comes. But I am +ordered to gather you together, for the Moolah is coming to convert +you all. I have already told him that you are all very much inclined to +think the same with him.” + +How far Mansoor may have gone with his assurances may never be known, +but the Mussulman preacher came walking towards them at this moment with +a paternal and contented smile upon his face, as one who has a pleasant +and easy task before him. He was a one-eyed man, with a fringe of +grizzled beard and a face which was fat, but which looked as if it had +once been fatter, for it was marked with many folds and creases. He had +a green turban upon his head, which marked him as a Mecca pilgrim. In +one hand he carried a small brown carpet, and in the other a parchment +copy of the Koran. Laying his carpet upon the ground, he motioned +Mansoor to his side, and then gave a circular sweep of his arm to +signify that the prisoners should gather round him, and a downward wave +which meant that they should be seated. So they grouped themselves round +him, sitting on the short green sward under the palm-tree, these seven +forlorn representatives of an alien creed, and in the midst of them sat +the fat little preacher, his one eye dancing from face to face as he +expounded the principles of his newer, cruder, and more earnest faith. +They listened attentively and nodded their heads as Mansoor translated +the exhortation, and with each sign of their acquiescence the Moolah +became more amiable in his manner and more affectionate in his speech. + +“For why should you die, my sweet lambs, when all that is asked of you +is that you should set aside that which will carry you to everlasting +Gehenna, and accept the law of Allah as written by His prophet, which +will assuredly bring you unimaginable joys, as is promised in the Book +of the Camel? For what says the chosen one?”--and he broke away into +one of those dogmatic texts which pass in every creed as an argument. +“Besides, is it not clear that God is with us, since from the beginning, +when we had but sticks against the rifles of the Turks, victory has +always been with us? Have we not taken El Obeid, and taken Khartoum, and +destroyed Hicks and slain Gordon, and prevailed against every one who +has come against us? How, then, can it be said that the blessing of +Allah does not rest upon us?” + +The Colonel had been looking about him during the long exhortation of +the Moolah, and he had observed that the Dervishes were cleaning their +guns, counting their cartridges, and making all the preparations of men +who expected that they might soon be called upon to fight. The two Emirs +were conferring together with grave faces, and the leader of the patrol +pointed, as he spoke to them, in the direction of Egypt. It was evident +that there was at least a chance of a rescue if they could only keep +things going for a few more hours. The camels were not recovered yet +from their long march, and the pursuers, if they were indeed close +behind, were almost certain to overtake them. + +“For God's sake, Fardet, try and keep him in play,” said he. “I believe +we have a chance if we can only keep the ball rolling for another hour +or so.” + +But a Frenchman's wounded dignity is not so easily appeased. Monsieur +Fardet sat moodily with his back against the palm-tree, and his black +brows drawn down. He said nothing, but he still pulled at his thick, +strong moustache. + +“Come on, Fardet! We depend upon you,” said Belmont. + +“Let Colonel Cochrane do it,” the Frenchman answered, snappishly. “He +takes too much upon himself, this Colonel Cochrane.” + +“There! there!” said Belmont, soothingly, as if he were speaking to +a fractious child. “I am quite sure that the Colonel will express his +regret at what has happened, and will acknowledge that he was in the +wrong----” + +“I'll do nothing of the sort,” snapped the Colonel. + +“Besides, that is merely a personal quarrel,” Belmont continued, +hastily. “It is for the good of the whole party that we wish you to +speak with the Moolah, because we all feel that you are the best man for +the job.” + +But the Frenchman only shrugged his shoulders and relapsed into a deeper +gloom. + +The Moolah looked from one to the other, and the kindly expression began +to fade away from his large, baggy face. His mouth drew down at the +corners, and became hard and severe. + +“Have these infidels been playing with us, then?” said he to the +dragoman. “Why is it that they talk among themselves and have nothing to +say to me?” + +“He is getting impatient about it,” said Cochrane. “Perhaps I had better +do what I can, Belmont, since this damned fellow has left us in the +lurch.” + +But the ready wit of a woman saved the situation. + +“I am sure, Monsieur Fardet,” said Mrs. Belmont, “that you, who are a +Frenchman, and therefore a man of gallantry and honour, would not permit +your own wounded feelings to interfere with the fulfilment of your +promise and your duty towards three helpless ladies.” + +Fardet was on his feet in an instant, with his hand over his heart. + +“You understand my nature, madame,” he cried. “I am incapable of +abandoning a lady. I will do all that I can in this matter. Now, +Mansoor, you may tell the holy man that I am ready to discuss through +you the high matters of his faith with him.” + +And he did it with an ingenuity which amazed his companions. He took +the tone of a man who is strongly attracted, and yet has one single +remaining shred of doubt to hold him back. Yet as that one shred was +torn away by the Moolah, there was always some other stubborn little +point which prevented his absolute acceptance of the faith of Islam. +And his questions were all so mixed up with personal compliments to the +priest and self-congratulations that they should have come under the +teachings of so wise a man and so profound a theologian, that the +hanging pouches under the Moolah's eyes quivered with his satisfaction, +and he was led happily and hopefully onwards from explanation to +explanation, while the blue overhead turned into violet, and the green +leaves into black, until the great serene stars shone out once more +between the crowns of the palm-trees. + +“As to the learning of which you speak, my lamb,” said the Moolah, +in answer to some argument of Fardet's, “I have myself studied at the +University of El Azhar at Cairo, and I know that to which you allude. +But the learning of the faithful is not as the learning of the +unbeliever, and it is not fitting that we pry too deeply into the ways +of Allah. Some stars have tails, O my sweet lamb, and some have not; but +what does it profit us to know which are which? For God made them all, +and they are very safe in His hands. Therefore, my friend, be not puffed +up by the foolish learning of the West, and understand that there is +only one wisdom, which consists in following the will of Allah as His +chosen prophet has laid it down for us in this book. And now, my lambs, +I see that you are ready to come into Islam, and it is time, for that +bugle tells that we are about to march, and it was the order of the +excellent Emir Abderrahman that your choice should be taken, one way or +the other, before ever we left the wells.” + +“Yet, my father, there are other points upon which I would gladly have +instruction,” said the Frenchman, “for, indeed, it is a pleasure to hear +your clear words after the cloudy accounts which we have had from other +teachers.” + +But the Moolah had risen, and a gleam of suspicion twinkled in his +single eye. + +“This further instruction may well come afterwards,” said he, “since we +shall travel together as far as Khartoum, and it will be a joy to me to +see you grow in wisdom and in virtue as we go.” He walked over to the +fire, and stooping down, with the pompous slowness of a stout man, he +returned with two half-charred sticks, which he laid crosswise upon +the ground. The Dervishes came clustering over to see the new converts +admitted into the fold. They stood round in the dim light, tall and +fantastic, with the high necks and supercilious heads of the camels +swaying above them. + +“Now,” said the Moolah, and his voice had lost its conciliatory and +persuasive tone, “there is no more time for you. Here upon the ground I +have made out of two sticks the foolish and superstitious symbol of your +former creed. You will trample upon it, as a sign that you renounce it, +and you will kiss the Koran, as a sign that you accept it, and what more +you need in the way of instruction shall be given to you as you go.” + +They stood up, the four men and the three women, to meet the crisis of +their fate. None of them, except perhaps Miss Adams and Mrs. Belmont, +had any deep religious convictions. All of them were children of this +world, and some of them disagreed with everything which that symbol upon +the earth represented. But there was the European pride, the pride of +the white race which swelled within them, and held them to the faith of +their countrymen. It was a sinful, human, un-Christian motive, and yet +it was about to make them public martyrs to the Christian creed. In +the hush and tension of their nerves low sounds grew suddenly loud +upon their ears. Those swishing palm-leaves above them were like +a swift-flowing river, and far away they could hear the dull, soft +thudding of a galloping camel. + +“There's something coming,” whispered Cochrane. “Try and stave them off +for five minutes longer, Fardet.” + +The Frenchman stepped out with a courteous wave of his uninjured arm, +and the air of a man who is prepared to accommodate himself to anything. + +“You will tell this holy man that I am quite ready to accept his +teaching, and so I am sure are all my friends,” said he to the dragoman. +“But there is one thing which I should wish him to do in order to set +at rest any possible doubts which may remain in our hearts. Every true +religion can be told by the miracles which those who profess it can +bring about. Even I, who am but a humble Christian, can, by virtue of +my religion, do some of these. But you, since your religion is superior, +can no doubt do far more, and so I beg you to give us a sign that we +may be able to say that we know that the religion of Islam is the more +powerful.” + +Behind all his dignity and reserve, the Arab has a good fund of +curiosity. The hush among the listening Arabs showed how the words of +the Frenchman as translated by Mansoor appealed to them. + +“Such things are in the hands of Allah,” said the priest. “It is not +for us to disturb His laws. But if you have yourself such powers as you +claim, let us be witnesses to them.” + +[Illustration: Took a large, shining date out of the Moolah's beard +p210] + +The Frenchman stepped forward, and raising his hand he took a +large, shining date out of the Moolah's beard. This he swallowed and +immediately produced once more from his left elbow. He had often +given his little conjuring entertainment on board the boat, and his +fellow-passengers had had some good-natured laughter at his expense, +for he was not quite skilful enough to deceive the critical European +intelligence. But now it looked as if this piece of obvious palming +might be the point upon which all their fates would hang. A deep hum of +surprise rose from the ring of Arabs, and deepened as the Frenchman drew +another date from the nostril of a camel and tossed it into the air, +from which, apparently, it never descended. That gaping sleeve was +obvious enough to his companions, but the dim light was all in favour +of the performer. So delighted and interested was the audience that they +paid little heed to a mounted camel-man who trotted swiftly between the +palm trunks. All might have been well had not Fardet, carried away by +his own success, tried to repeat his trick once more, with the result +that the date fell out of his palm and the deception stood revealed. +In vain he tried to pass on at once to another of his little stock. The +Moolah said something, and an Arab struck Fardet across the shoulders +with the thick shaft of his spear. + +“We have had enough child's play,” said the angry priest. “Are we men or +babes, that you should try to impose upon us in this manner? Here is the +cross and the Koran--which shall it be?” + +Fardet looked helplessly round at his companions. + +“I can do no more; you asked for five minutes. You have had them,” said +he to Colonel Cochrane. + +“And perhaps it is enough,” the soldier answered. “Here are the Emirs.” + +The camel-man, whose approach they had heard from afar, had made for the +two Arab chiefs, and had delivered a brief report to them, stabbing +with his forefinger in the direction from which he had come. There was a +rapid exchange of words between the Emirs, and then they strode forward +together to the group around the prisoners. Bigots and barbarians, they +were none the less two most majestic men, as they advanced through the +twilight of the palm grove. The fierce old greybeard raised his hand +and spoke swiftly in short, abrupt sentences, and his savage followers +yelped to him like hounds to a huntsman. The fire that smouldered in his +arrogant eyes shone back at him from a hundred others. Here were to +be read the strength and danger of the Mahdi movement; here in these +convulsed faces, in that fringe of waving arms, in these frantic, +red-hot souls, who asked nothing better than a bloody death, if their +own hands might be bloody when they met it. + +“Have the prisoners embraced the true faith?” asked the Emir +Abderrahman, looking at them with his cruel eyes. + +The Moolah had his reputation to preserve, and it was not for him to +confess to a failure. + +“They were about to embrace it, when----” + +“Let it rest for a little time, O Moolah.” He gave an order, and the +Arabs all sprang for their camels. The Emir Wad Ibrahim filed off at +once with nearly half the party. The others were mounted and ready, with +their rifles unslung. + +“What's happened?” asked Belmont. + +“Things are looking up,” cried the Colonel. “By George, I think we are +going to come through all right. The Gippy Camel Corps are hot on our +trail.” + +“How do you know?” + +“What else could have scared them?” + +“O Colonel, do you really think we shall be saved?” sobbed Sadie. The +dull routine of misery through which they had passed had deadened all +their nerves until they seemed incapable of any acute sensation, but now +this sudden return of hope brought agony with it like the recovery of +a frostbitten limb. Even the strong, self-contained Belmont was filled +with doubts and apprehensions. He had been hopeful when there was no +sign of relief, and now the approach of it set him trembling. + +“Surely they wouldn't come very weak,” he cried. “Be Jove, if the +Commandant let them come weak, he should be court-martialled.” + +“Sure, we're in God's hands, anyway,” said his wife, in her soothing, +Irish voice. “Kneel down with me, John, dear, if it's the last time, and +pray that, earth or heaven, we may not be divided.” + +“Don't do that! Don't!” cried the Colonel, anxiously, for he saw that +the eye of the Moolah was upon them. But it was too late, for the two +Roman Catholics had dropped upon their knees and crossed themselves. +A spasm of fury passed over the face of the Mussulman priest at this +public testimony to the failure of his missionary efforts. He turned and +said something to the Emir. + +[Illustration: Stand up! cried Mansoor p214] + +“Stand up!” cried Mansoor. “For your life's sake, stand up! He is asking +for leave to put you to death.” + +“Let him do what he likes!” said the obstinate Irishman; “we will rise +when our prayers are finished, and not before.” + +The Emir stood listening to the Moolah, with his baleful gaze upon the +two kneeling figures. Then he gave one or two rapid orders, and four +camels were brought forward. The baggage-camels which they had hitherto +ridden were standing unsaddled where they had been tethered. + +“Don't be a fool, Belmont!” cried the Colonel; “everything depends upon +our humouring them. Do get up, Mrs. Belmont! You are only putting their +backs up!” + +The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders as he looked at them. “_Mon Dieu!_” + he cried, “were there ever such impracticable people? _Voilà!_” he +added, with a shriek, as the two American ladies fell upon their knees +beside Mrs. Belmont. “It is like the camels--one down, all down! Was +ever anything so absurd?” + +But Mr. Stephens had knelt down beside Sadie and buried his haggard face +in his long, thin hands. Only the Colonel and Monsieur Fardet remained +standing. Cochrane looked at the Frenchman with an interrogative eye. + +“After all,” said he, “it is stupid to pray all your life, and not to +pray now when we have nothing to hope for except through the goodness of +Providence.” He dropped upon his knees with a rigid, military back, but +his grizzled, unshaven chin upon his chest. The Frenchman looked at his +kneeling companions, and then his eyes travelled onwards to the angry +faces of the Emir and Moolah. + +“_Sapristi!_” he growled. “Do they suppose that a Frenchman is afraid of +them?” and so, with an ostentatious sign of the cross, he took his place +upon his knees beside the others. Foul, bedraggled, and wretched, the +seven figures knelt and waited humbly for their fate under the black +shadow of the palm-tree. + +The Emir turned to the Moolah with a mocking smile, and pointed at the +results of his ministrations. Then he gave an order, and in an instant +the four men were seized. + +A couple of deft turns with a camel-halter secured each of their wrists. +Fardet screamed out, for the rope had bitten into his open wound. The +others took it with the dignity of despair. + +“You have ruined everything. I believe you have ruined me also!” cried +Mansoor, wringing his hands. “The women are to get upon these three +camels.” + +“Never!” cried Belmont. “We won't be separated!” He plunged madly, but +he was weak from privation, and two strong men held him by each elbow. + +[Illustration: Don't fret, John! cried his wife p217] + +“Don't fret, John!” cried his wife, as they hurried her towards the +camel. “No harm shall come to me. Don't struggle, or they'll hurt you, +dear.” + +The four men writhed as they saw the women dragged away from them. All +their agonies had been nothing to this. Sadie and her aunt appeared to +be half senseless from fear. Only Mrs. Belmont kept a brave face. When +they were seated the camels rose, and were led under the tree behind +where the four men were standing. + +“I've a pistol in me pocket,” said Belmont, looking up at his wife. “I +would give me soul to be able to pass it to you.” + +“Keep it, John, and it may be useful yet. I have no fears. Ever since we +prayed I have felt as if our guardian angels had their wings round us.” + She was like a guardian angel herself as she turned to the shrinking +Sadie, and coaxed some little hope back into her despairing heart. + +The short, thick Arab, who had been in command of Wad Ibrahim's +rearguard, had joined the Emir and the Moolah; the three consulted +together, with occasional oblique glances towards the prisoners. Then +the Emir spoke to Mansoor. + +“The chief wishes to know which of you four is the richest man?” said +the dragoman. His fingers were twitching with nervousness and plucking +incessantly at the front of his cover-coat. + +“Why does he wish to know?” asked the Colonel. + +“I do not know.” + +“But it is evident,” cried Monsieur Fardet. + +“He wishes to know which is the best worth keeping for his ransom.” + +“I think we should see this thing through together,” said the Colonel. +“It's really for you to decide, Stephens, for I have no doubt that you +are the richest of us.” + +“I don't know that I am,” the lawyer answered; “but, in any case, I have +no wish to be placed upon a different footing to the others.” + +The Emir spoke again in his harsh, rasping voice. + +“He says,” Mansoor translated, “that the baggage-camels are spent, and +that there is only one beast left which can keep up. It is ready now for +one of you, and you have to decide among yourselves which is to have it. +If one is richer than the others, he will have the preference.” + +“Tell him that we are all equally rich.” + +“In that case he says that you are to choose at once which is to have +the camel.” + +“And the others?” + +The dragoman shrugged his shoulders. + +“Well,” said the Colonel, “if only one of us is to escape, I think you +fellows will agree with me that it ought to be Belmont, since he is the +married man.” + +“Yes, yes, let it be Monsieur Belmont,” cried Fardet. + +“I think so also,” said Stephens. + +But the Irishman would not hear of it. + +“No, no, share and share alike,” he cried. “All sink or all swim, and +the devil take the flincher.” + +They wrangled among themselves until they became quite heated in this +struggle of unselfishness. Some one had said that the Colonel should go +because he was the oldest, and the Colonel was a very angry man. + +“One would think I was an octogenarian,” he cried. “These remarks are +quite uncalled for.” + +“Well, then,” said Belmont, “let us all refuse to go.” + +“But this is not very wise,” cried the Frenchman. “See, my friends! Here +are the ladies being carried off alone. Surely it would be far better +that one of us should be with them to advise them.” + +They looked at one another in perplexity. What Fardet said was obviously +true, but how could one of them desert his comrades? The Emir himself +suggested the solution. + +“The chief says,” said Mansoor, “that if you cannot settle who is to go, +you had better leave it to Allah and draw lots.” + +“I don't think we can do better,” said the Colonel, and his three +companions nodded their assent. + +It was the Moolah who approached them with four splinters of palm-bark +protruding from between his fingers. + +“He says that he who draws the longest has the camel,” says Mansoor. + +“We must agree to abide absolutely by this,” said Cochrane, and again +his companions nodded. + +The Dervishes had formed a semicircle in front of them, with a fringe +of the oscillating heads of the camels. Before them was a cooking fire, +which threw its red light over the group. The Emir was standing with his +back to it, and his fierce face towards the prisoners. Behind the four +men was a line of guards, and behind them again the three women, who +looked down from their camels upon this tragedy. With a malicious smile, +the fat, one-eyed Moolah advanced with his fist closed, and the four +little brown spicules protruding from between his fingers. + +It was to Belmont that he held them first. The Irishman gave an +involuntary groan, and his wife gasped behind him, for the splinter came +away in his hand. Then it was the Frenchman's turn, and his was half an +inch longer than Belmont's. Then came Colonel Cochrane, whose piece was +longer than the two others put together. Stephen's was no bigger than +Belmont's. The Colonel was the winner of this terrible lottery. + +[Illustration: The Colonel was the winner of this terrible lottery p222] + +“You're welcome to my place, Belmont,” said he. “I've neither wife nor +child, and hardly a friend in the world. Go with your wife, and I'll +stay.” + +“No, indeed! An agreement is an agreement. It's all fair play, and the +prize to the luckiest.” + +“The Emir says that you are to mount at once,” said Mansoor, and an Arab +dragged the Colonel by his wrist-rope to the waiting camel. + +“He will stay with the rearguard,” said the Emir to his lieutenant. “You +can keep the women with you also.” + +“And this dragoman dog?” + +“Put him with the others.” + +“And they?” + +“Put them all to death.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +As none of the three could understand Arabic, the order of the Emir +would have been unintelligible to them had it not been for the conduct +of Mansoor. The unfortunate dragoman, after all his treachery and all +his subservience and apostasy, found his worst fears realised when the +Dervish leader gave his curt command. With a shriek of fear the poor +wretch threw himself forward upon his face, and clutched at the Arab's +jibbeh, clawing with his brown fingers at the edge of the cotton skirt. +The Emir tugged to free himself, and then, finding that he was still +held by that convulsive grip, he turned and kicked at Mansoor with +the vicious impatience with which one drives off a pestering cur. The +dragoman's high red tarboosh flew up into the air, and he lay groaning +upon his face where the stunning blow of the Arab's horny foot had left +him. + +All was bustle and movement in the camp, for the old Emir had mounted +his camel, and some of his party were already beginning to follow +their companions. The squat lieutenant, the Moolah, and about a dozen +Dervishes surrounded the prisoners. They had not mounted their camels, +for they were told off to be the ministers of death. The three men +understood as they looked upon their faces that the sand was running +very low in the glass of their lives. Their hands were still bound, but +their guards had ceased to hold them. They turned round, all three, and +said good-bye to the women upon the camels. + +“All up now, Norah,” said Belmont. “It's hard luck when there was a +chance of a rescue, but we've done our best.” + +For the first time his wife had broken down. She was sobbing +convulsively, with her face between her hands. + +“Don't cry, little woman! We've had a good time together. Give my +love to all my friends at Bray! Remember me to Amy McCarthy and to the +Blessingtons. You'll find there is enough and to spare, but I would take +Rogers's advice about the investments. Mind that!” + +“O John, I won't live without you!” Sorrow for her sorrow broke the +strong man down, and he buried his face in the hairy side of her camel. +The two of them sobbed helplessly together. + +Stephens meanwhile had pushed his way to Sadie's beast. She saw his +worn, earnest face looking up at her through the dim light. + +“Don't be afraid for your aunt and for yourself,” said he. “I am +sure that you will escape. Colonel Cochrane will look after you. The +Egyptians cannot be far behind. I do hope you will have a good drink +before you leave the wells. I wish I could give your aunt my jacket, for +it will be cold tonight. I'm afraid I can't get it off. She should keep +some of the bread, and eat it in the early morning.” + +He spoke quite quietly, like a man who is arranging the details of a +picnic. A sudden glow of admiration for this quietly consistent man +warmed her impulsive heart. + +“How unselfish you are!” she cried. “I never saw any one like you. Talk +about saints! There you stand in the very presence of death, and you +think only of us.” + +“I want to say a last word to you, Sadie, if you don't mind. I should +die so much happier. I have often wanted to speak to you, but I +thought that perhaps you would laugh, for you never took anything very +seriously, did you? That was quite natural, of course, with your high +spirits, but still it was very serious to me. But now I am really a dead +man, so it does not matter very much what I say.” + +“Oh, don't, Mr. Stephens!” cried the girl. + +“I won't, if it is very painful to you. As I said, it would make me die +happier, but I don't want to be selfish about it. If I thought it would +darken your life afterwards or be a sad recollection to you I would not +say another word.” + +“What did you wish to say?” + +“It was only to tell you how I loved you. I always loved you. From the +first I was a different man when I was with you. But of course it was +absurd, I knew that well enough. I never said anything, and I tried not +to make myself ridiculous. But I just want you to know about it now that +it can't matter one way or the other. You'll understand that I really +do love you when I tell you that, if it were not that I knew you were +frightened and unhappy, these last two days in which we have been always +together would have been infinitely the happiest of my life.” + +The girl sat pale and silent, looking down with wondering eyes at his +upturned face. She did not know what to do or say in the solemn presence +of this love which burned so brightly under the shadow of death. To her +child's heart it seemed incomprehensible,--and yet she understood that +it was sweet and beautiful also. + +“I won't say any more,” said he; “I can see that it only bothers you. +But I wanted you to know, and now you do know, so it is all right. Thank +you for listening so patiently and gently. Good-bye, little Sadie! I +can't put my hand up. Will you put yours down?” + +[Illustration: Good-bye, little Sadie p229] + +She did so and Stephens kissed it. Then he turned and took his place +once more between Belmont and Fardet. In his whole life of struggle and +success he had never felt such a glow of quiet contentment as suffused +him at that instant when the grip of death was closing upon him. There +is no arguing about love. It is the innermost fact of life, the one +which obscures and changes all the others, the only one which is +absolutely satisfying and complete. Pain is pleasure, and want is +comfort, and death is sweetness when once that golden mist is round +it. So it was that Stephens could have sung with joy as he faced his +murderers. He really had not time to think about them. The important, +all-engrossing, delightful thing was that she could not look upon him as +a casual acquaintance any more. Through all her life she would think of +him--she would know. + +Colonel Cochrane's camel was at one side, and the old soldier, whose +wrists had been freed, had been looking down upon the scene, and +wondering in his tenacious way whether all hope must really be +abandoned. It was evident that the Arabs who were grouped round the +victims were to remain behind with them, while the others who were +mounted would guard the three women and himself. He could not understand +why the throats of his companions had not been already cut, unless it +were that with an Eastern refinement of cruelty this rearguard would +wait until the Egyptians were close to them, so that the warm bodies of +their victims might be an insult to the pursuers. No doubt that was the +right explanation. The Colonel had heard of such a trick before. + +But in that case there would not be more than twelve Arabs with the +prisoners. Were there any of the friendly ones among them? If Tippy +Tilly and six of his men were there, and if Belmont could get his arms +free and his hand upon his revolver, they might come through yet. The +Colonel craned his neck and groaned in his disappointment. He could see +the faces of the guards in the firelight. They were all Baggara Arabs, +men who were beyond either pity or bribery. Tippy Tilly and the others +must have gone on with the advance. For the first time the stiff old +soldier abandoned hope. + +“Good-bye, you fellows! God bless you!” he cried, as a negro pulled at +his camel's nose-ring and made him follow the others. The women came +after him, in a misery too deep for words. Their departure was a relief +to the three men who were left. + +“I am glad they are gone,” said Stephens, from his heart. + +“Yes, yes, it is better,” cried Fardet. “How long are we to wait?” + +“Not very long now,” said Belmont, grimly, as the Arabs closed in around +them. + +The Colonel and the three women gave one backward glance when they came +to the edge of the oasis. Between the straight stems of the palms they +saw the gleam of the fire, and above the group of Arabs they caught a +last glimpse of the three white hats. An instant later, the camels began +to trot, and when they looked back once more the palm grove was only a +black clump with the vague twinkle of a light somewhere in the heart of +it. As with yearning eyes they gazed at that throbbing red point in the +darkness, they passed over the edge of the depression, and in an instant +the huge, silent, moonlit desert was round them without a sign of the +oasis which they had left. On every side the velvet, blue-black sky, +with its blazing stars, sloped downwards to the vast, dun-coloured +plain. The two were blurred into one at their point of junction. + +The women had sat in the silence of despair, and the Colonel had been +silent also--for what could he say?--but suddenly all four started in +their saddles, and Sadie gave a sharp cry of dismay. In the hush of the +night there had come from behind them the petulant crack of a rifle, +then another, then several together, with a brisk rat-tat-tat, and then, +after an interval, one more. + +“It may be the rescuers! It may be the Egyptians!” cried Mrs. Belmont, +with a sudden flicker of hope. “Colonel Cochrane, don't you think it may +be the Egyptians?” + +“Yes, yes,” Sadie whimpered. “It must be the Egyptians.” + +The Colonel had listened expectantly, but all was silent again. Then he +took his hat off with a solemn gesture. + +“There is no use deceiving ourselves, Mrs. Belmont,” said he; “we may +as well face the truth. Our friends are gone from us, but they have met +their end like brave men.” + +“But why should they fire their guns? They had---- they had spears.” She +shuddered as she said it. + +“That is true,” said the Colonel. “I would not for the world take away +any real grounds of hope which you may have; but, on the other hand, +there is no use in preparing bitter disappointments for ourselves. If +we had been listening to an attack, we should have heard some reply. +Besides, an Egyptian attack would have been an attack in force. No doubt +it _is_, as you say, a little strange that they should have wasted their +cartridges,--by Jove, look at that!” + +He was pointing over the eastern desert. Two figures were moving across +its expanse, swiftly and stealthily, furtive dark shadows against the +lighter ground. They saw them dimly, dipping and rising over the rolling +desert, now lost, now reappearing in the uncertain light. They were +flying away from the Arabs. And then, suddenly they halted upon the +summit of a sand-hill, and the prisoners could see them outlined plainly +against the sky. They were camel-men, but they sat their camels astride +as a horseman sits his horse. + +“Gippy Camel Corps!” cried the Colonel. + +“Two men,” said Miss Adams, in a voice of despair. + +“Only a vedette, ma'am! Throwing feelers out all over the desert. This +is one of them. Main body ten miles off, as likely as not. There they go +giving the alarm! Good old Camel Corps!” + +The self-contained, methodical soldier had suddenly turned almost +inarticulate with his excitement. There was a red flash upon the top of +the sand-hill, and then another, followed by the crack of the rifles. +Then with a whisk the two figures were gone, as swiftly and silently as +two trout in a stream. + +The Arabs had halted for an instant, as if uncertain whether they should +delay their journey to pursue them or not. There was nothing left to +pursue now, for amid the undulations of the sand-drift the vedettes +might have gone in any direction. The Emir galloped back along the line, +with exhortations and orders. Then the camels began to trot, and the +hopes of the prisoners were dulled by the agonies of the terrible jolt. +Mile after mile and mile after mile they sped onwards over that vast +expanse, the women clinging as best they might to the pommels, the +Colonel almost as spent as they, but still keenly on the lookout for any +sign of the pursuers. + +“I think---- I think,” cried Mrs. Belmont, “that something is moving in +front of us.” + +The Colonel raised himself upon his saddle, and screened his eyes from +the moonshine. + +“By Jove, you're right there, ma'am. There are men over yonder.” + +They could all see them now, a straggling line of riders far ahead of +them in the desert. + +“They are going in the same direction as we,” cried Mrs. Belmont, whose +eyes were very much better than the Colonel's. + +Cochrane muttered an oath into his moustache. + +“Look at the tracks there,” said he; “of course, it's our own vanguard +who left the palm grove before us. The chief keeps us at this infernal +pace in order to close up with them.” + +As they drew closer they could see plainly that it was indeed the other +body of Arabs, and presently the Emir Wad Ibrahim came trotting back to +take counsel with the Emir Abderrahman. They pointed in the direction in +which the vedettes had appeared, and shook their heads like men who +have many and grave misgivings. Then the raiders joined into one long, +straggling line, and the whole body moved steadily on towards the +Southern Cross, which was twinkling just over the skyline in front of +them. Hour after hour the dreadful trot continued, while the fainting +ladies clung on convulsively, and Cochrane, worn out but indomitable, +encouraged them to hold out, and peered backwards over the desert +for the first glad signs of their pursuers. The blood throbbed in his +temples, and he cried that he heard the roll of drums coming out of the +darkness. In his feverish delirium he saw clouds of pursuers at their +very heels, and during the long night he was for ever crying glad +tidings which ended in disappointment and heartache. The rise of the sun +showed the desert stretching away around them, with nothing moving upon +its monstrous face except themselves. With dull eyes and heavy hearts +they stared round at that huge and empty expanse. Their hopes thinned +away like the light morning mist upon the horizon. + +It was shocking to the ladies to look at their companion and to think +of the spruce, hale old soldier who had been their fellow-passenger from +Cairo. As in the case of Miss Adams, old age seemed to have pounced upon +him in one spring. His hair, which had grizzled hour by hour during his +privations, was now of a silvery white. White stubble, too, had obscured +the firm, clean line of his chin and throat. The veins of his face were +injected and his features were shot with heavy wrinkles. He rode +with his back arched and his chin sunk upon his breast, for the old, +time-rotted body was worn out, but in his bright, alert eyes there was +always a trace of the gallant tenant who lived in the shattered house. +Delirious, spent, and dying, he preserved his chivalrous, protecting +air as he turned to the ladies, shot little scraps of advice and +encouragement at them, and peered back continually for the help which +never came. + +An hour after sunrise the raiders called a halt, and food and water +were served out to all. Then at a more moderate pace they pursued +their southern journey, their long, straggling line trailing out over +a quarter of a mile of desert. From their more careless bearing and the +way in which they chatted as they rode, it was clear that they thought +that they had shaken off their pursuers. Their direction now was east +as well as south, and it was evidently their intention after this long +detour to strike the Nile again at some point far above the Egyptian +outposts. Already the character of the scenery was changing, and they +were losing the long levels of the pebbly desert, and coming once more +upon those fantastic, sunburned black rocks and that rich orange sand +through which they had already passed. On every side of them rose +the scaly, conical hills with their loose, slaglike _débris_, +and jagged-edged khors, with sinuous streams of sand running like +watercourses down their centre. The camels followed each other, twisting +in and out among the boulders, and scrambling with their adhesive, +spongy feet over places which would have been impossible for horses. +Among the broken rocks those behind could sometimes only see the long, +undulating, darting necks of the creatures in front, as if it were some +nightmare procession of serpents. Indeed, it had much the effect of a +dream upon the prisoners, for there was no sound, save the soft, dull +padding and shuffling of the feet. The strange, wild frieze moved slowly +and silently onwards amid a setting of black stone and yellow sand, with +the one arch of vivid blue spanning the rugged edges of the ravine. + +Miss Adams, who had been frozen into silence during the long cold night, +began to thaw now in the cheery warmth of the rising sun. She looked +about her, and rubbed her thin hands together. + +“Why, Sadie,” she remarked, “I thought I heard you in the night, dear, +and now I see that you have been crying.” + +“I have been thinking, Auntie.” “Well, we must try and think of others, +dearie, and not of ourselves.” “It's not of myself, Auntie.” “Never fret +about me, Sadie.” “No, Auntie, I was not thinking of you.” “Was it of +any one in particular.” “Of Mr. Stephens, Auntie. How gentle he was, +and how brave! To think of him fixing up every little thing for us, +and trying to pull his jacket over his poor roped-up hands, with those +murderers waiting all round his. He's my saint and hero from now ever +after.” + +“Well, he's out of his troubles anyhow,” said Miss Adams, with that +bluntness which the years bring with them. + +“Then I wish I was also.” + +“I don't see how that would help him.” + +“Well, I think he might feel less lonesome,” said Sadie, and drooped her +saucy little chin upon her breast. + +The four had been riding in silence for some little time, when the +Colonel clapped his hand to his brow with a gesture of dismay. + +“Good God!” he cried, “I am going off my head.” + +Again and again they had perceived it during the night, but he had +seemed quite rational since daybreak. They were shocked, therefore, at +this sudden outbreak, and tried to calm him with soothing words. + +“Mad as a hatter,” he shouted. “Whatever do you think I saw?” + +“Don't trouble about it, whatever it was,” said Mrs. Belmont, laying her +hand soothingly upon his as the camels closed together. “It is no wonder +that you are overdone. You have thought and worked for all of us so +long. We shall halt presently, and a few hours' sleep will quite restore +you.” + +But the Colonel looked up again, and again he cried out in his agitation +and surprise. + +“I never saw anything plainer in my life,” he groaned. “It is on +the point of rock on our right front,--poor old Stuart with my red +cummerbund round his head just the same as we left him.” + +The ladies had followed the direction of the Colonel's frightened gaze, +and in an instant they were all as amazed as he. + +[Illustration: On this pinnacle stood a motionless figure p242] + +There was a black, bulging ridge like a bastion upon the right side of +the terrible khor up which the camels were winding. At one point it rose +into a small pinnacle. On this pinnacle stood a solitary, motionless +figure clad entirely in black, save for a brilliant dash of scarlet upon +his head. There could not surely be two such short, sturdy figures or +such large, colourless faces in the Libyan desert. His shoulders were +stooping forward, and he seemed to be staring intently down into +the ravine. His pose and outline were like a caricature of the great +Napoleon. + +“Can it possibly be he?” + +“It must be. It is!” cried the ladies. “You see he is looking towards us +and waving his hand.” + +“Good Heavens! They'll shoot him! Get down, you fool, or you'll +be shot!” roared the Colonel. But his dry throat would only emit a +discordant croaking. + +Several of the Dervishes had seen the singular apparition upon the +hill, and had un-slung their Remingtons, but a long arm suddenly shot up +behind the figure of the Birmingham clergyman, a brown hand seized upon +his skirts, and he disappeared with a snap. Higher up the pass, just +below the spot where Mr. Stuart had been standing, appeared the tall +figure of the Emir Abderrahman. He had sprung upon a boulder, and was +shouting and waving his arms, but the shouts were drowned in a long, +rippling roar of musketry from each side of the khor. The bastion-like +cliff was fringed with gun-barrels, with red tarbooshes drooping over +the triggers. From the other lip also came the long spurts of flame +and the angry clatter of the rifles. The raiders were caught in an +ambuscade. The Emir fell, but was up again and waving. There was +a splotch of blood upon his long white beard. He kept pointing and +gesticulating, but his scattered followers could not understand what he +wanted. Some of them came tearing down the pass, and some from behind +were pushing to the front. A few dismounted and tried to climb up sword +in hand to that deadly line of muzzles, but one by one they were hit, +and came rolling from rock to rock to the bottom of the ravine. The +shooting was not very good. One negro made his way unharmed up the whole +side, only to have his brains dashed out with the butt-end of a Martini +at the top. The Emir had fallen off his rock and lay in a crumpled heap, +like a brown and white patch-work quilt at the bottom of it. And then +when half of them were down it became evident, even to those exalted +fanatical souls, that there was no chance for them, and that they must +get out of these fatal rocks and into the desert again. They galloped +down the pass, and it is a frightful thing to see a camel galloping over +broken ground. The beast's own terror, his ungainly bounds, the sprawl +of his four legs all in the air together, his hideous cries, and the +yells of his rider who is bucked high from his saddle with every spring, +make a picture which is not to be forgotten. The women screamed as +this mad torrent of frenzied creatures came pouring past them, but the +Colonel edged his camel and theirs farther and farther in among the +rocks and away from the retreating Arabs. The air was full of whistling +bullets, and they could hear them smacking loudly against the stones all +round them. + +“Keep quiet, and they'll pass us,” whispered the Colonel, who was all +himself again now that the hour for action had arrived. “I wish to +Heaven I could see Tippy Tilly or any of his friends. Now is the time +for them to help us.” He watched the mad stream of fugitives as they +flew past upon their shambling, squattering, loose-jointed beasts, but +the black face of the Egyptian gunner was not among them. + +And now it really did seem as if the whole body of them, in their +haste to get clear of the ravine, had not a thought to spend upon the +prisoners. The rush was past, and only stragglers were running the +gauntlet of the fierce fire which poured upon them from above. The +last of all, a young Baggara with a black moustache and pointed beard, +looked up as he passed and shook his sword in impotent passion at the +Egyptian riflemen. At the same instant a bullet struck his camel, and +the creature collapsed, all neck and legs, upon the ground. The young +Arab sprang off its back, and, seizing its nose-ring, he beat it +savagely with the flat of his sword to make it stand up. But the dim, +glazing eye told its own tale, and in desert warfare the death of the +beast is the death of the rider. The Baggara glared round like a lion +at bay, his dark eyes flashing murderously from under his red turban. +A crimson spot, and then another, sprang out upon his dark skin, but he +never winced at the bullet wounds. His fierce gaze had fallen upon the +prisoners, and with an exultant shout he was dashing towards them, his +broad-bladed sword gleaming above his head. Miss Adams was the nearest +to him, but at the sight of the rushing figure and the maniac face she +threw herself off the camel upon the far side. The Arab bounded on to +a rock and aimed a thrust at Mrs. Belmont, but before the point could +reach her the Colonel leaned forward with his pistol and blew the man's +head in. Yet with a concentrated rage, which was superior even to the +agony of death, the fellow lay kicking and striking, bounding about +among the loose stones like a fish upon the shingle. + +[Illustration: The Colonel leaned forward with his pistol p247] + +“Don't be frightened, ladies,” cried the Colonel. “He is quite dead, I +assure you. I am so sorry to have done this in your presence, but the +fellow was dangerous. I had a little score of my own to settle with him, +for he was the man who tried to break my ribs with his Remington. I hope +you are not hurt, Miss Adams! One instant, and I will come down to you.” + +But the old Boston lady was by no means hurt, for the rocks had been so +high that she had a very short distance to fall from her saddle. Sadie, +Mrs. Belmont, and Colonel Cochrane had all descended by slipping on to +the boulders and climbing down from them. But they found Miss Adams on +her feet, and waving the remains of her green veil in triumph. + +“Hurrah, Sadie! Hurrah, my own darling Sadie!” she was shrieking. “We +are saved, my girl, we are saved after all.” + +“By George, so we are!” cried the Colonel, and they all shouted in an +ecstasy together. + +But Sadie had learned to think more about others during those terrible +days of schooling. Her arms were round Mrs. Belmont, and her cheek +against hers. + +“You dear, sweet angel,” she cried, “how can we have the heart to be +glad when you--when you----” + +“But I don't believe it is so,” cried the brave Irishwoman. “No, I'll +never believe it until I see John's body lying before me. And when I see +that, I don't want to live to see anything more.” + +The last Dervish had clattered down the khor, and now above them on +either cliff they could see the Egyptians--tall, thin, square-shouldered +figures, looking, when outlined against the blue sky, wonderfully +like the warriors in the ancient bas-reliefs. Their camels were in the +background, and they were hurrying to join them. At the same time others +began to ride down from the farther end of the ravine, their dark +faces flushed and their eyes shining with the excitement of victory and +pursuit. A very small Englishman, with a straw-coloured moustache and a +weary manner, was riding at the head of them. He halted his camel beside +the fugitives and saluted the ladies. He wore brown boots and brown +belts with steel buckles, which looked trim and workmanlike against his +kharki uniform. + +“Had 'em that time--had 'em proper!” said he. “Very glad to have been of +any assistance, I'm Shaw. Hope you're none the worse for it all. What I +mean, it's rather rough work for ladies.” + +“You're from Haifa, I suppose?” asked the Colonel. + +“No, we're from the other show. We're the Sarras crowd, you know. We met +in the desert, and we headed 'em off, and the other Johnnies headed +them behind. We've got 'em on toast, I tell you. Get up on that rock and +you'll see things happen. It's going to be a knockout in one round this +time.” + +“We left some of our people at the wells. We are very uneasy about +them,” said the Colonel. “I suppose you have not heard anything of +them?” + +The young officer looked serious and shook his head. “Bad job that!” + said he. “They're a poisonous crowd when you put 'em in a corner. What +I mean, we never expected to see you alive; and we're very glad to pull +any of you out of the fire. The most we hoped was that we might revenge +you.” + +“Any other Englishman with you?” “Archer is with the flanking party. +He'll have to come past, for I don't think there is any other way +down. We've got one of your chaps up there--a funny old bird with a +red topknot. See you later, I hope! Good day, ladies!” He touched his +helmet, tapped his camel, and trotted on after his men. + +“We can't do better than stay where we are until they are all past,” + said the Colonel, for it was evident now that the men from above would +have to come round. In a broken single file they went past, black men +and brown, Soudanese and fellaheen, but all of the best, for the Camel +Corps is the _corps d'elite_ of the Egyptian army. Each had a brown +bandolier over his chest and his rifle held across his thigh. A large +man with a drooping black moustache and a pair of binoculars in his hand +was riding at the side of them. + +“Hulloa, Archer!” croaked the Colonel. + +The officer looked at him with the vacant, unresponsive eye of a +complete stranger. + +“I'm Cochrane, you know! We travelled up together.” + +“Excuse me, sir, but you have the advantage of me,” said the officer. +“I knew a Colonel Cochrane, but you are not the man. He was three inches +taller than you, with black hair and----” + +“That's all right,” cried the Colonel, testily. “You try a few days with +the Dervishes, and see if your friends will recognise you!” + +“Good God, Cochrane, is it really you? I could not have believed it. +Great Scott, what you must have been through! I've heard before of +fellows going grey in a night, but, by Jove----” + +“Quite so,” said the Colonel, flushing. “Allow me to hint to you, +Archer, that if you could get some food and drink for these ladies, +instead of discussing my personal appearance, it would be much more +practical.” + +“That's all right,” said Captain Archer. + +“Your friend Stuart knows that you are here, and he is bringing some +stuff round for you. Poor fare, ladies, but the best we have! You're an +old soldier, Cochrane. Get up on the rocks presently, and you'll see a +lovely sight. No time to stop, for we shall be in action again in five +minutes. Anything I can do before I go?” + +“You haven't got such a thing as a cigar?” asked the Colonel, wistfully. + +[Illustration: You haven't got such a thing as a cigar p253] + +Archer drew a thick satisfying partaga from his case and handed it down, +with half-a-dozen wax vestas. Then he cantered after his men, and the +old soldier leaned back against the rock and drew in the fragrant smoke. +It was then that his jangled nerves knew the full virtue of tobacco, the +gentle anodyne which stays the failing strength and soothes the worrying +brain. He watched the dim, blue reek swirling up from him, and he felt +the pleasant, aromatic bite upon his palate, while a restful languor +crept over his weary and harassed body. The three ladies sat together +upon a flat rock. + +“Good land, what a sight you are, Sadie!” cried Miss Adams, suddenly, +and it was the first reappearance of her old self. “What _would_ your +mother say if she saw you? Why, sakes alive, your hair is full of straw +and your frock clean crazy!” + +“I guess we all want some setting to right,” said Sadie, in a voice +which was much more subdued than that of the Sadie of old. “Mrs. +Belmont, you look just too perfectly sweet anyhow, but if you'll allow +me, I'll fix your dress for you.” + +But Mrs. Belmont's eyes were far away, and she shook her head sadly as +she gently put the girl's hands aside. + +“I do not care how I look. I cannot think of it,” said she; “could +_you_, if you had left the man you love behind you, as I have mine?” + +“I'm begin--beginning to think I have,” sobbed poor Sadie, and buried +her hot face in Mrs. Belmont's motherly bosom. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +The Camel Corps had all passed onwards down the khor in pursuit of the +retreating Dervishes, and for a few minutes the escaped prisoners had +been left alone. But now there came a cheery voice calling upon them, +and a red turban bobbed about among the rocks, with the large white face +of the Nonconformist minister smiling from beneath it. He had a thick +lance with which to support his injured leg, and this murderous crutch +combined with his peaceful appearance to give him a most incongruous +aspect,--as of a sheep which has suddenly developed claws. Behind him +were two negroes with a basket and a water-skin. + +[Illustration: Not a word! Not a word! p255] + +“Not a word! Not a word!” he cried, as he stumped up to them. “I know +exactly how you feel. I've been there myself. Bring the water, Ali! Only +half a cup, Miss Adams; you shall have some more presently. Now your +turn, Mrs. Belmont! Dear me, dear me, you poor souls, how my heart does +bleed for you! There's bread and meat in the basket, but you must be +very moderate at first.” He chuckled with joy, and slapped his fat hands +together as he watched them. + +“But the others?” he asked, his face turning grave again. + +The Colonel shook his head. “We left them behind at the wells. I fear +that it is all over with them.” + +“Tut, tut!” cried the clergyman, in a boisterous voice, which could not +cover the despondency of his expression; “you thought, no doubt, that +it was all over with me, but here I am in spite of it. Never lose heart, +Mrs. Belmont. Your husband's position could not possibly be as hopeless +as mine was.” + +“When I saw you standing on that rock up yonder, I put it down to +delirium,” said the Colonel. “If the ladies had not seen you, I should +never have ventured to believe it.” + +“I am afraid that I behaved very badly. Captain Archer says that I +nearly spoiled all their plans, and that I deserved to be tried by a +drumhead court-trial and shot. The fact is that, when I heard the Arabs +beneath me, I forgot myself in my anxiety to know if any of you were +left.” + +“I wonder that you were not shot without any drumhead court-martial,” + said the Colonel. “But how in the world did you get here?” + +“The Haifa people were close upon our track at the time when I was +abandoned, and they picked me up in the desert. I must have been +delirious, I suppose, for they tell me that they heard my voice, singing +hymns, a long way off, and it was that, under the providence of God, +which brought them to me. They had a camel ambulance, and I was quite +myself again by next day. I came with the Sarras people after we met +them, because they have the doctor with them. My wound is nothing, and +he says that a man of my habit will be the better for the loss of blood. +And now, my friends,”--his big, brown eyes lost their twinkle, and +became very solemn and reverent,--“we have all been upon the very +confines of death, and our dear companions may be so at this instant. +The same power which saved us may save them, and let us pray together +that it may be so, always remembering that if, in spite of our prayers, +it should _not_ be so, then that also must be accepted as the best and +wisest thing.” + +So they knelt together among the black rocks, and prayed as some of them +had never prayed before. It was very well to discuss prayer and treat it +lightly and philosophically upon the deck of the _Korosko_. It was easy +to feel strong and self-confident in the comfortable deck-chair, with +the slippered Arab handing round the coffee and liqueurs. But they had +been swept out of that placid stream of existence, and dashed against +the horrible, jagged facts of life. Battered and shaken, they must have +something to cling to. A blind, inexorable destiny was too horrible a +belief. A chastening power, acting intelligently and for a purpose,--a +living, working power, tearing them out of their grooves, breaking down +their small sectarian ways, forcing them into the better path,--that +was what they had learned to realise during these days of horror. +Great hands had closed suddenly upon them and had moulded them into new +shapes, and fitted them for new uses. Could such a power be deflected +by any human supplication? It was that or nothing,--the last court of +appeal, left open to injured humanity. And so they all prayed, as lover +loves, or a poet writes, from the very inside of their souls, and +they rose with that singular, illogical feeling of inward peace and +satisfaction which prayer only can give. + +“Hush!” said Cochrane. “Listen!” The sound of a volley came crackling up +the narrow khor, and then another and another. The Colonel was fidgeting +about like an old horse which hears the bugle of the hunt and the +yapping of the pack. “Where can we see what is going on?” “Come this +way! This way, if you please! There is a path up to the top. If the +ladies will come after me, they will be spared the sight of anything +painful.” + +The clergyman led them along the side to avoid the bodies which were +littered thickly down the bottom of the khor. It was hard walking over +the shingly, slaggy stones, but they made their way to the summit at +last. Beneath them lay the vast expanse of the rolling desert, and in +the foreground such a scene as none of them are ever likely to forget. +In that perfectly dry and clear light, with the unvarying brown tint of +the hard desert as a background, every detail stood out as clearly as +if these were toy figures arranged upon a table within hand's touch of +them. + +The Dervishes--or what was left of them--were riding slowly some +little distance out in a confused crowd, their patchwork jibbehs and red +turbans swaying with the motion of their camels. They did not present +the appearance of men who were defeated, for their movements were very +deliberate, but they looked about them and changed their formation as +if they were uncertain what their tactics ought to be. It was no wonder +that they were puzzled, for upon their spent camels their situation was +as hopeless as could be conceived. The Sarras men had all emerged from +the khor, and had dismounted, the beasts being held in groups of four, +while the riflemen knelt in a long line with a woolly, curling fringe +of smoke, sending volley after volley at the Arabs, who shot back in a +desultory fashion from the backs of their camels. But it was not upon +the sullen group of Dervishes, nor yet upon the long line of kneeling +riflemen, that the eyes of the spectators were fixed. Far out upon the +desert, three squadrons of the Haifa Camel Corps were coming up in +a dense close column, which wheeled beautifully into a widespread +semicircle as it approached. The Arabs were caught between two fires. + +[Illustration: Arabs were caught between two fires p261] + +“By Jove!” cried the Colonel. “See that!” + +The camels of the Dervishes had all knelt down simultaneously, and the +men had sprung from their backs. In front of them was a tall, stately +figure, who could only be the Emir Wad Ibrahim. They saw him kneel for +an instant in prayer. Then he rose, and taking something from his saddle +he placed it very deliberately upon the sand and stood upon it. + +“Good man!” cried the Colonel. “He is standing upon his sheepskin.” + +“What do you mean by that?” asked Stuart. + +“Every Arab has a sheepskin upon his saddle. When he recognises that his +position is perfectly hopeless, and yet is determined to fight to the +death, he takes his sheepskin off and stands upon it until he dies. +See, they are all upon their sheepskins. They will neither give nor take +quarter now.” + +The drama beneath them was rapidly approaching its climax. The Haifa +Corps was well up, and a ring of smoke and flame surrounded the clump +of kneeling Dervishes, who answered it as best they could. Many of them +were already down, but the rest loaded and fired with the unflinching +courage which has always made them worthy antagonists. A dozen +kharki-dressed figures upon the sand showed that it was no bloodless +victory for the Egyptians. But now there was a stirring bugle-call from +the Sarras men, and another answered it from the Haifa Corps. Their +camels were down also, and the men had formed up into a single long +curved line. One last volley and they were charging inwards with the +wild inspiriting yell which the blacks had brought with them from their +central African wilds. For a minute there was a mad vortex of rushing +figures, rifle-butts rising and falling, spearheads gleaming and darting +among the rolling dust cloud. Then the bugle rang out once more, the +Egyptians fell back and formed up with the quick precision of highly +disciplined troops, and there in the centre, each upon his sheepskin, +lay the gallant barbarian and his raiders. The nineteenth century had +been revenged upon the seventh. + +The three women had stared horror-stricken and yet fascinated at +the stirring scene before them. Now Sadie and her aunt were sobbing +together. The Colonel had turned to them with some cheering words when +his eyes fell upon the face of Mrs. Belmont. It was as white and set as +if it were carved from ivory, and her large grey eyes were fixed as if +she were in a trance. + +“Good Heavens, Mrs. Belmont, what _is_ the matter?” he cried. + +For answer she pointed out over the desert. Far away, miles on the other +side of the scene of the fight, a small body of men were riding towards +them. + +“By Jove, yes; there's some one there. Who can it be?” + +They were all straining their eyes, but the distance was so great that +they could only be sure that they were camel-men and about a dozen in +number. + +“It's those devils who were left behind in the palm grove,” said +Cochrane. “There's no one else it can be. One consolation, they can't +get away again. They've walked right into the lion's mouth.” + +But Mrs. Belmont was still gazing with the same fixed intensity and the +same ivory face. Now, with a wild shriek of joy, she threw her two hands +into the air. “It's they!” she screamed. “They are saved! It's they, +Colonel, it's they! O Miss Adams, Miss Adams, it is they!” She capered +about on the top of the hill with wild eyes like an excited child. + +Her companions would not believe her, for they could see nothing, but +there are moments when our mortal senses are more acute than those who +have never put their whole heart and soul into them can ever realise. +Mrs. Belmont had already run down the rocky path, on the way to her +camel, before they could distinguish that which had long before carried +its glad message to her. In the van of the approaching party, three +white dots shimmered in the sun, and they could only come from the three +European hats. The riders were travelling swiftly, and by the time their +comrades had started to meet them they could plainly see that it was +indeed Belmont, Fardet, and Stephens, with the dragoman Mansoor, and the +wounded Soudanese rifleman. As they came together they saw that their +escort consisted of Tippy Tilly and the other old Egyptian soldiers. +Belmont rushed onwards to meet his wife, but Fardet stopped to grasp the +Colonel's hand. + +“_Vive la France! Vivent les Anglais!_” he was yelling. “_Tout va +bien, n'est ce pas_, Colonel? Ah, _canaille! Vivent les croix et les +Chrétiens!_” He was incoherent in his delight. + +The Colonel, too, was as enthusiastic as his Anglo-Saxon standard +would permit. He could not gesticulate, but he laughed in the nervous, +crackling way which was his top-note of emotion. + +“My dear boy, I am deuced glad to see you all again. I gave you up +for lost. Never was as pleased at anything in my life! How did you get +away?” + +“It was all your doing.” + +“Mine?” + +“Yes, my friend, and I have been quarrelling with you,--ungrateful +wretch that I am!” + +“But how did I save you?” + +“It was you who arranged with this excellent Tippy Tilly and the others +that they should have so much if they brought us alive into Egypt again. +They slipped away in the darkness and hid themselves in the grove. Then, +when we were left, they crept up with their rifles and shot the men who +were about to murder us. That cursed Moolah, I am sorry they shot him, +for I believe that I could have persuaded him to be a Christian. And +now, with your permission, I will hurry on and embrace Miss Adams, for +Belmont has his wife, and Stephens has Miss Sadie, so I think it is very +evident that the sympathy of Miss Adams is reserved for me.” + +A fortnight had passed away, and the special boat which had been +placed at the disposal of the rescued tourists was already far north of +Assiout. Next morning they would find themselves at Baliani, where +one takes the express for Cairo. It was, therefore, their last evening +together. Mrs. Shlesinger and her child who had escaped unhurt had +already been sent down from the frontier. Miss Adams had been very ill +after her privations, and this was the first time that she had been +allowed to come upon deck after dinner. She sat now in a lounge-chair, +thinner, sterner, and kindlier than ever, while Sadie stood beside her +and tucked the rugs around her shoulders. Mr. Stephens was carrying over +the coffee and placing it on the wicker-table beside them. On the other +side of the deck Belmont and his wife were seated together in silent +sympathy and contentment. Monsieur Fardet was leaning against the rail +and arguing about the remissness of the British Government in not taking +a more complete control of the Egyptian frontier, while the Colonel +stood very erect in front of him, with the red end of a cigar-stump +protruding from under his moustache. + +But what was the matter with the Colonel? Who would have recognised him +who had only seen the broken old man in the Libyan desert? There might +be some little grizzling about the moustache, but the hair was back once +more at the fine glossy black which had been so much admired upon +the voyage up. With a stony face and an unsympathetic manner he had +received, upon his return to Haifa, all the commiserations about the +dreadful way in which his privations had blanched him, and then diving +into his cabin, he had reappeared within an hour exactly as he had been +before that fatal moment when he had been cut off from the manifold +resources of civilisation. And he looked in such a sternly questioning +manner at every one who stared at him, that no one had the moral courage +to make any remark about this modern miracle. It was observed from that +time forward that, if the Colonel had only to ride a hundred yards into +the desert, he always began his preparations by putting a small black +bottle with a pink label into the side-pocket of his coat. But those who +knew him best at times when a man may be best known, said that the old +soldier had a young man's heart and a young man's spirit,--so that if +he wished to keep a young man's colour also it was not very unreasonable +after all. It was very soothing and restful up there on the saloon deck, +with no sound but the gentle lipping of the water as it rippled against +the sides of the steamer. The red after-glow was in the western sky, +and it mottled the broad, smooth river with crimson. Dimly they could +discern the tall figures of herons standing upon the sandbanks, and +farther off the line of river-side date-palms glided past them in a +majestic procession. Once more the silver stars were twinkling out, the +same clear, placid, inexorable stars to which their weary eyes had been +so often upturned during the long nights of their desert martyrdom. + +“Where do you put up in Cairo, Miss Adams?” asked Mrs. Belmont, at last. + +“Shepheard's, I think.” + +“And you, Mr. Stephens?” + +“Oh, Shepheard's, decidedly.” + +“We are staying at the Continental. I hope we shall not lose sight of +you.” + +“I don't want ever to lose sight of you, Mrs. Belmont,” cried Sadie. +“Oh, you must come to the States, and we'll give you just a lovely +time.” + +Mrs. Belmont laughed, in her pleasant, mellow fashion. + +“We have our duty to do in Ireland, and we have been too long away from +it already. My husband has his business, and I have my home, and they +are both going to rack and ruin. Besides,” she added, slyly, “it is just +possible that if we did come to the States we might not find you there.” + +“We must all meet again,” said Belmont, “if only to talk our adventures +over once more. It will be easier in a year or two. We are still too +near them.” + +“And yet how far away and dream-like it all seems!” remarked his wife. +“Providence is very good in softening disagreeable remembrances in +our minds. All this feels to me as if it had happened in some previous +existence.” + +Fardet held up his wrist with a cotton bandage still round it. + +“The body does not forget as quickly as the mind. This does not look +very dreamlike or far away, Mrs. Belmont.” + +“How hard it is that some should be spared, and some not! If only Mr. +Brown and Mr. Headingly were with us, then I should not have one care in +the world,” cried Sadie. “Why should they have been taken, and we left?” + +Mr. Stuart had limped on to the deck with an open book in his hand, a +thick stick supporting his injured leg. + +“Why is the ripe fruit picked, and the unripe left?” said he in answer +to the young girl's exclamation. “We know nothing of the spiritual state +of these poor dear young fellows, but the great Master Gardener plucks +His fruit according to His own knowledge. I brought you up a passage to +read to you.” + +There was a lantern upon the table, and he sat down beside it. The +yellow light shone upon his heavy cheek and the red edges of his book. +The strong, steady voice rose above the wash of the water. + +“'Let them give thanks whom the Lord hath redeemed and delivered from +the hand of the enemy, and gathered them out of the lands, from the +east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south. They went +astray in the wilderness out of the way, and found no city to dwell in. +Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them. So they cried unto the +Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress. He led +them forth by the right way, that they might go to the city where they +dwelt. Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for His goodness, and +declare the wonders that He doeth for the children of men.' + +[Illustration: He delivered them from their distress p273] + +“It sounds as if it were composed for us, and yet it was written two +thousand years ago,” said the clergyman, as he closed the book. “In +every age man has been forced to acknowledge the guiding hand which +leads him. For my part I don't believe that inspiration stopped +two thousand years ago. When Tennyson wrote with such fervour and +conviction,-- + + 'Oh, yet we trust that somehow good + Will be the final goal of ill.' + +he was repeating the message which had been given to him, just as Micah +or Ezekiel when the world was younger repeated some cruder and more +elementary lesson.” + +“That is all very well, Mr. Stuart,” said the Frenchman; “you ask me to +praise God for taking me out of danger and pain, but what I want to know +is why, since He has arranged all things, He ever put me into that pain +and danger. I have in my opinion more occasion to blame than to praise. +You would not thank me for pulling you out of that river if it was also +I who pushed you in. The most which you can claim for your Providence is +that it has healed the wound which its own hand inflicted.” + +“I don't deny the difficulty,” said the clergyman, slowly; “no one who +is not self-deceived _can_ deny the difficulty. Look how boldly Tennyson +faced it in that same poem, the grandest and deepest and most obviously +inspired in our language. Remember the effect which it had upon him. + + 'I falter where I firmly trod, + And falling with my weight of cares + Upon the great world's altar stairs, + Which slope through darkness up to God, + + 'I stretch lame hands of faith and grope + And gather dust and chaff, and call + To what I feel is Lord of all, + And faintly trust the larger hope.' + +It is the central mystery of mysteries--the problem of sin and +suffering, the one huge difficulty which the reasoner has to solve in +order to vindicate the dealings of God with man. But take our own case +as an example. I, for one, am very clear what I have got out of our +experience. I say it with all humility, but I have a clearer view of +my duties than ever I had before. It has taught me to be less remiss in +saying what I think to be true, less indolent in doing what I feel to be +rightful.” + +“And I,” cried Sadie. “It has taught me more than all my life put +together. I have learned so much and unlearned so much. I am a different +girl.” + +“I never understood my own nature before,” said Stephens. “I can hardly +say that I had a nature to understand. I lived for what was unimportant, +and I neglected what was vital.” + +“Oh, a good shake-up does nobody any harm,” the Colonel remarked. “Too +much of the feather-bed-and-four-meals-a-day life is not good for man or +woman.” + +“It is my firm belief,” said Mrs. Belmont, gravely, “that there was not +one of us who did not rise to a greater height during those days in the +desert than ever before or since. When our sins come to be weighed, much +may be forgiven us for the sake of those unselfish days.” + +They all sat in thoughtful silence for a little while the scarlet +streaks turned to carmine, and the grey shadows deepened, and the +wild-fowl flew past in dark straggling V's over the dull metallic +surface of the great smooth-flowing Nile. A cold wind had sprung up from +the eastward, and some of the party rose to leave the deck. Stephens +leaned forward to Sadie. + +“Do you remember what you promised when you were in the desert?” he +whispered. + +“What was that?” + +“You said that if you escaped you would try in future to make some one +else happy.” + +“Then I must do so.” + +“You have,” said he, and their hands met under the shadow of the table. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Desert Drama, by A. 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