In the Mahdi's Grasp Part 12

"No, not come to explore."

"But, your Excellency, I and my people have found a fresh temple with tombs, and deep in the sand where no one has been before."

"Yes, and you know too that the authorities have given strict orders that no expeditions are to be made right out in the desert on account of the danger?"

"It is true, O Excellency," said the Arab, with a sigh, "and I and mine will starve. We had better have been driving our sheep and goats here and there for pasture far away yonder, than waiting for English travellers. All who are here go up the river in boats. There are no journeys into the wilds this year. I have been stopped twice."

Frank glanced at the professor, and saw that his eyes were glittering as he spoke in a low tone.

"Yes, Sheikh," he said; "it is very ill for you, and it is bad for me.

There are those stones cut into and painted that we left buried in the sand."

"Yes, Excellency; hidden safely away, waiting for your servants to dig them out. Why not let me gather my people and let us go so many days'

journey out into the wilderness and carry them off, before some other learned traveller to whose eyes all the mysteries of the past are like an open book shall come and find them?"

"That would be bad, Ibrahim," said the professor slowly.

"It would break thy servant's heart, Excellency," said the man. "Look here, Excellency. It is forbidden, but my people are away there to the south with the tents and camels, and their Excellencies might come and dwell with us in the tents for days, and then some night the camels would be ready--the poor beasts are sobbing and groaning for burdens to bear and long journeys into the desert--and some moonlight night they might be loaded with their sacks of grain and skins of water, and no one would know when we stole away into the desert to where the old tombs are hidden. Then the treasures could be found and brought away by his Excellency's servants, who would rejoice after and have the wherewithal to buy oil and honey, dhurra and dates, so that their faces might s.h.i.+ne and the starving camels grow sleek and fat upon his Excellency's bounty."

"Ah," said the professor slowly and dubiously, as Frank listened with his heart beating fast, while he held his quivering nether lip pressed tightly by his teeth; "you think that would be possible, Sheikh?"

"Possible, your Excellency?" said the man, in an earnest whisper; "why not? Am I a man to boast and say 'I will do this,' and then show that I have a heart of water, and do it not?"

"No," said the professor slowly; "Sheikh Ibrahim has always been a man in whom my soul could trust, in the shadow of whose tent I have always lain down and slept in peace, for I have felt that his young men were ready with their spears to protect me, and that their father looked upon me as his sacred charge."

"Hah!" said the Sheikh, with calm, grave dignity. "They are the words of truth. His Excellency trusts me as he has always done. Will he come, then, into the desert once again? If he says yes, Ibrahim will go away to-night with gladsome heart to the village close by, and there will be joy in the hearts of his two young men, who are waiting sorrowfully there."

"You know the desert well, Ibrahim," said the professor slowly.

"It is my home, Excellency. My eyes opened upon it first, and when the time comes they will look upon it for the last time, and I shall sleep beneath its sands."

"Yes, as a patriarchal Sheikh should," said the professor. "But you and your young men are quite free from engagements?"

"Ready to be thy servants, to do thy bidding, for no one wants us now; go where you will choose, and work and dig, and find as they have found before."

"It is good," said the professor gravely. "Of course I shall pay you well."

"His Excellency always did pay us well," said the Arab, bending low.

"And my two friends will add to the payment."

The Arab smiled.

"You will keep our departure quite private, Ibrahim--no one is to know."

The man shook his head.

"And I should want you to lead us wherever I chose to go."

"You always did, Excellency."

"But suppose I wanted you to go where some of your people--I mean men of your race--would consider it dangerous?"

"There are Arabs of some tribes, Excellency, who are of low breed--men who are not of the pure blood, who would say the way was dangerous: the men of my tribe, the Dhur, do not know that word. If they said they would take the English learned one, they would take him. They have their spears and their guns and swords, and their camels are swift. Is not that enough, O Excellency?"

"Quite," said the professor; "but there would be danger, perhaps, for the Mahdi's followers range far."

"True, my lord, and they are many. Mine are but as a handful of sand.

His Excellency would not go to fight the Khalifa? It would be mad."

"A wise man can fight with cunning, and do more than a strong man with his sword and spear."

The Sheikh was silent, and stood in the semi-darkness with his eyes reflecting the lights of the hotel strangely, as he glanced from one to the other as if trying to read their faces.

"I shall have to tell him all, Frank," said the professor slowly, in Latin.

"The risk is too great," replied Frank hurriedly. "We should be putting ourselves in his power, and if he is not true he would destroy all our hopes."

"We can go no further without his help, Frank," said the professor gravely. "_Tace_."

"His Excellency's words are dark," said the Sheikh, in a low, deep voice. "He speaks of dangers, and of the Mahdi's men, and of fighting with cunning. Will he not fully trust his servant, and make his words and wishes s.h.i.+ne with the light of day? Does his Excellency wish to play the spy upon the new Mahdi's movements?"

"No," said the professor firmly.

The Sheikh drew a long breath which sounded like a sigh of relief.

"I am glad," he said softly, "for their lives are dear to my young men.

They have their wives and little ones, and the followers of the Mahdi seek blood. What would the learned Englishman who loves the stone writings of the ancient people do amongst the conquering spearmen of the prophet's chosen one?"

"Answer this, Ibrahim: Do you believe this new Mahdi or Khalifa is the chosen one of the prophet?"

The Sheikh laughed softly.

"Thy servant thought much when he was young, and all his life he has had dealings with the wise men from the west who have come here from many countries to see and seek out what the old people left buried in the sands of time. He could not help, as he saw the wonders they brought to light, and sat in the same tent with them, growing wiser and thinking in their tongue. He has seen, too, again and again, fresh prophets rise to utter the same cry, 'Lo, O people, I am the prophet's chosen, sent to free the country from the heathen Christian dog.' And it has always been the same: the people cry aloud and believe and follow him to the fight always to kill and destroy, to make slaves, and to pa.s.s like a flight of locusts across the land, and the new prophet eats and drinks and makes merry till he dies like the thousands he has killed; but he does not carry out his boast, and another arises and cries, 'Lo, I am the chosen of the prophet. Upon me does the Mahdi's mantle fall.'

Excellency, I am a man of the desert, but there is wisdom even amongst the sand, and I have picked up some, enough to know when false prophets come amongst the people. No; I do not believe the new Mahdi is the chosen one. He is only another man of blood. Why does my master ask?

Why does he wish to run where there is danger to him and his friends-- danger to us who would be his guides?"

"Listen," said the professor, and in a few well-chosen words he told the old Sheikh of Harry Frere's unhappy fate.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old Arab, after hearing the speaker to the end.

"Yes; I have heard of this before. With mine own eyes I saw the German who escaped, and it was said that there was a young Englishman out yonder, a slave. And he is your brother, my lord?" he continued, turning quickly upon Frank.

"Yes; my brother, whom I have come here to save."

"It is good," said the Arab slowly. "But I hear that an army is going south to fight the Khalifa."

"Yes," said Frank bitterly; "but it will be months or years before they reach the place, and before then my brother may be dead. Sheikh," said Frank, in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice that bespoke the emotion from which he suffered "he is a slave, and in chains. I must go to his help at once."