In the Mahdi's Grasp Part 11

"And a good job too, sir; I want to be at it. But my word! it seems wonderful. Me only the other day in my pantry, Wimpole Street, W., and to-morrow in King Pharaoh's city where there were the plagues and pyramids."

"And now hotels and electric lights, and the telegraph to communicate with home."

"Yes, sir, it's alarming," said Sam. "Pity it don't go right up to Khartoum--that's the place, ain't it, sir?"

"Yes, Sam."

"So as we could send a message to Mr Harry: 'Keep up your spirits; we're on the way.'"

"Ah, if we could, Sam!" said Frank, with a sigh.

"Never mind, sir; we're not losing much time. But who'd ever think it!

I used to fancy that foreign abroad would look foreign, but it don't a bit. Here's the sea and the sky looking just as it does off the Isle o'

Wight when you're out o' sight o' land; and only when we saw the mountains with a morsel of snow on their tops did the land look different to at home. I suppose it will be a bit strange in Egypt, though, sir, won't it?"

"Oh, yes. Wait a few hours longer," said Frank, "and then you'll see."

Sam came to him the next night when they were settled in the European hotel, where the professor was welcomed as an old friend.

"I've put out all you'll want, sir," said the man. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, Sam; I'm just going to bed so as to have a good night's rest ready for work to-morrow. Well, does this seem foreign?"

"Foreign, sir? Hullo! there's another of 'em."--_Slap_.--"Missed him again! Have they been at you yet, sir?"

"What, the mosquitoes? Yes. I just brushed one off."

"They seem to fancy me, sir. I expected they'd be great big things, but they're only just like our gnats at home."

"Indeed! What about their bite!"

"Oh, yes, they bite sharper, sir. I expect it's because they're so precious hungry, sir. But foreign? Oh, _yes_, this'll do, sir. It's wonderful, what with the camels and the donkeys. My word! they are fine 'uns. I saw one go along cantering like a horse. Yes, sir, this'll do.

But I suppose we're not going to stay here long?"

"Only till the professor can make his preparations for the start, and then we're off right away into the desert."

"Right, sir; on donkeys?"

"On camels, Sam."

"H'm! Seems rather high up in the air, sir. Good way to fall on to a hard road."

"Road--hard road, Sam?" said Frank laughing. "If you fall it will be on to soft sand. There are no roads in the desert."

"No roads, sir? You mean no well-made roads."

"I mean no roads at all; not even a track, for the drifting sand soon hides the last foot-prints."

Sam stared.

"Why, how do you find your way, sir?" said Sam, staring blankly.

"Either by the compa.s.s, as one would at sea, or by trusting to the Arabs, who know the landmarks."

"And sometimes by the camels' bones," said the professor, who had entered the room unheard. "Plenty of them die along the caravan tracks.

But I daresay we shall find our way, for there is the big river which marks our course pretty well, if we were at fault."

"Thankye, sir; you'd be sure to know," said Sam hurriedly. "I was only asking Mr Frank like so as to pick up a little about the place."

The man asked no more questions, but made the best of his way to his own room.

"Come down and out into the grounds, my lad," said the professor. "The doctor's sitting in the garden having his cigar."

"I was just going to bed."

"Yes, but come with me for an hour first. I've an old friend waiting to see me, and I thought I'd bring you down."

"I don't want to meet his old friends," thought Frank impatiently. Then aloud, as he followed: "Of course you will say nothing about the object of our visit here?"

"Trust me," said the professor quietly.

"Is your friend staying here?"

"Yes; he comes here regularly at this time of year, expecting to meet old visitors to Egypt."

"I see," said Frank drily. Then to himself, "I wish he was at Jericho.

I can't talk about anything now but the desert."

As they descended into the prettily lit-up hall and went out into the garden among the palm trees, the scene was attractive enough to fix any newcomer's eyes; but Frank could see nothing but a long wide stretch of desert country, at the horizon of which were a few palms overshadowing dingy, sun-baked mud buildings, houses formed of the brick made of straw now as in the days when the taskmaster-beaten Israelitish bondmen put up such pitiful plaint.

"Where is the doctor?" said Frank.

"Over yonder on that seat," replied the professor, as they were going down a sandy path towards a group of palms. "Ah, there's my friend."

Frank looked in the indicated direction, but he saw no English visitor.

There was a stately looking turbaned figure, draped in white, standing in the dim shadowy light among the palms, and he seemed to catch sight of them at the same moment, and came softly forward, to stop short and make a low obeisance to each in turn.

"Well, Ibrahim, how are you?" said the professor sharply.

"His Excellency's servant is well and happy now, for his soul rejoices to find that the dogs told lies. They said his Excellency would not come to El Caire until the war was over, and the Mahdi's successor--may his fathers' graves be defiled--had gone back to the other dogs of the far desert."

"Oh, yes, I've come again. Frank, this is Sheikh Ibrahim, of the Dhur Tribe. And look here, Ibrahim, this is my friend and brother, Mr Frank Frere."

"And my master," said the Arab, with another grave and dignified reverence, speaking too, in spite of the flowery Eastern ornamentation, in excellent English. "His Excellency has come, then, to continue his search for the remains of the old people?"

"Hah!" cried the professor, "that's right. Now let's understand one another at once. No, Ibrahim, I have not."

"Not come, Excellency?" cried the Sheikh, in a disappointed tone, and his hands flew up to his long flowing grey beard, but he did not tear it, contenting himself with giving two slight tugs.