In the Mahdi's Grasp Part 26

"Is there a way out behind there?" the man asked himself, for all was quiet and the minutes glided by till he was just on the point of stepping forward to make sure of the enemy's presence, when the black appeared again, carrying an armful of clothes, which he threw down on the carpet, and to Sam's great delight dropped upon his knees in the very position he would have placed him, while the object of his visit was plainly shown, for he began to rummage the pockets of the garments and transfer their contents, the c.h.i.n.k of money being heard, and a faint gleam was apparently given forth by something metallic, evidently a watch.

As Sam saw all this he softly raised his hands to his lips after the fas.h.i.+on of a boy about to moisten them so as to get a good grip. But it was only in form, and as he did so he stepped softly from behind the hanging rug and then onward slowly to within springing distance, when with extended hands he crouched and sprang at the black, landed upon his back, driving him forward, and gripped him tightly.

"Got you!" he muttered to himself, and this was perfectly true, but the black did not lie quiet like the camel Sam had settled himself to ride.

For he began to act at once as if made of a combination of steel springs. He swung himself sidewise as he felt Sam upon his back, disorganised the butler's holding, and behaved in a thoroughly eel-like fas.h.i.+on as he struggled hard to get away.

It was many years since Sam had engaged in such a struggle, but he had not quite forgotten old, boyish encounters. The resistance stirred up the latent temper within him, and though his holding was not what he had meant it to be, it was fast, and he made it tighter, locking arms and legs about his captive, and the next minute they were rolling over and over, twisting and twining on the carpet, and panting hard as each strove for the mastery.

Sam's intention had been to shout for help as soon as he had seized the black, but he was too busy holding him, and all recollection of his plans pa.s.sed from his memory at once. All he could think of now was that he must keep his prize, while it was perfectly evident that his prize did not mean to be kept, but fought for his liberty with might and main, while at the first encounter the writhing pair had come in contact with one of the poles which supported the tent, the lamp had fallen, and the place now, save for the dim starlight seen through the doorway, was in utter darkness.

It was only working by touch, but Sam made good use of his muscles, forgetting all about his stiffness, and for quite a couple of minutes the panting and scuffling of the wrestling pair went on, till Sam found himself upon his back with the black sitting upon his chest and a pair of hands in close proximity to his throat.

But in spite of his being in the worse position Sam was not beaten. He had fast hold of his enemy with his hands, and had thrown up his legs so as to tighten them round those of his foe, and in this position both held on as if trying to recover breath.

Then all at once Sam felt the grip of one of the black's hands loosen, and a horrible thought flashed through his brain--

It was his adversary's right hand, and he was about to seek for his knife!

"Look here, you black hound," panted Sam. "If you stab me you'll be hung."

"Sam!" came in a hoa.r.s.e voice, and the grip slackened.

"Who are you?" panted Sam. "Why!--what I--'Tain't you, is it, Master Frank?"

"Oh, you idiot! you fool!"

"But I don't under--I say, Mr Frank, I took you for a n.i.g.g.e.r."

"You've dragged me all to pieces, and I'm so hot I--"

"But is it you, Master Frank, dressed up?"

"You knew it was," cried the young man angrily, as the grasp being slackened he struggled up, to stand breathing hard.

"'Strue as goodness, sir, I didn't!" said Sam, rising to his knees.

"Oh, just wait till I get my wind again. I say, Mr Frank, you are strong--strong as--as a donkey."

"I? Come, I like that!" panted Frank. "I'm a donkey, am I, sir?"

"'Pon my word, Mr Frank, I beg your pardon. I came into the tent and saw, as I thought, a real n.i.g.g.e.r robbing the place, and though I felt scared about his having a knife, I went at him, and it was you all the time."

"Yes, it was I all the time," cried Frank angrily. "Why didn't you speak?"

"Never thought about it, sir. Seemed to me that I ought to catch the thief, and I caught a Tartar instead."

"It is most vexatious! Oh, how hot I am! Have you got a match?"

"Yes, I've got a box somewhere."

"Look sharp, then, and light the lamp."

"All right, sir," said Sam, fumbling in his box, and proceeding to strike a light. "I 'spose you've made me in a pretty mess, sir."

"What! Have I made your nose bleed?"

"Oh, no, sir. I meant the lampblack. I suppose I shall be covered with it."

"Wait till you get the light, and see," said Frank sharply.

_Scratch_! The little wax match flashed, the lamp was picked up uninjured, and after a little trying, burned freely, so that the adversaries could gaze in each other's faces.

But prior to doing this Sam examined his hands twice over, and then pa.s.sed them over his face. He next took out a pocket-handkerchief and rubbed his face well, bringing away plenty of perspiration, but the linen remained white.

"It hasn't come off, sir," he said, in a tone full of wonder; and then, moistening his handkerchief with his lips, "Beg your pardon, sir, would you mind?"

Frank, whose annoyance was dying out, being driven off by a feeling of amus.e.m.e.nt caused by the man's looks of wonder, stood fast while Sam pa.s.sed his handkerchief over the back of one hand and then drew back, laughing softly.

"Well, Sam!" he cried.

"I say, sir, you do look rum! I shouldn't have known you. I don't know you now, and I don't believe your own mother would."

"Then you think the disguise is perfect enough?"

"Disguise, sir? You can't call that a disguise! It's the real thing.

Why, you're a downright genuine n.i.g.g.e.r, that you are!"

"That's right, Sam," said Frank, smiling now.

"And the best of it is, sir, that you're regular fast colours."

"I hope so, Sam."

"Think you could bear to wash yourself, sir?"

"Oh, yes. It will take weeks to make this look lighter."

"Well, I call it amazing, sir. There ain't no need for you to mind where you go. No dervish could take you for a white man, unless he was mad. But am I to be painted that colour?"

"No; you will go as you are--the Hakim's white servant."

"Well, just as you like, sir; I don't mind. I'll be touched up like you are if you think it will be safer for a man. It's wonderful, sir. And no fear of its showing the dirt. But pst! here's some one coming. The doctor and Mr Landon, sir. I thought you were sitting along with them.

Have they seen you like this?"

"No, Sam; I was just getting ready for them."

"Did they know it, sir?"

"No."