In the Mahdi's Grasp Part 4

"What!" cried the man. "Mr Harry, sir?"

"Yes, alive, Sam--alive!"

"What, him as was dead, sir?"

"Yes, alive, I tell you."

"What, him as was killed out in the Soudan--our Mr Harry, sir, as we give the dinner to in this very room, when he made that speech as I stood and heared to the very end?"

"Yes, Sam; yes, yes!" cried Frank, as excited now as the man, who now dashed at him and seized him by the hand and shook it with all his might.

"Then--then--then," he cried. "Oh, Mr Frank--oh, Mr Frank--oh, Mr Frank!"

Dropping the young man's hand, he seized the professor's and shook at that for a few moments, before rus.h.i.+ng at his master's, to pump that wildly up and down before das.h.i.+ng to the door, flinging it open, and yelling--

"Here! hi! cook! Mary! everyone! He isn't dead after all. Hooray!

hooray! hoo--"

From a tremendous emphasis and sonorous roar over the first hurrah, Sam made a rapid diminuendo to the first syllable of the last, which trailed off and would have died away but for Frank, who, touched by the man's show of devotion, finished it heartily, and led off with another cheer, in which the others joined, the shouts having an accompaniment in the pattering of feet upon the floor-cloth of the hall.

Sam's fit of exaltation was over, and he stood shamefaced and troubled, wiping his damp hands upon the white napkin.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he said humbly. "You see, I knowed Mr Harry so well. He was always such a gentleman to me, and it was such an upset when he died that--that now he's come to life again, sir, it seemed like making a man forget himself, sir, and--"

"Show that he felt a genuine attachment to our very dear friend, Samuel," said the doctor quietly. "Thank you. My friends thank you too, for we know it was all perfectly sincere."

"Hah!" said the professor, as the door closed. "I always liked your Sam, though as a bit of a linguist I must say that sometimes his use of the Queen's English does rather jar upon my feelings."

"But his heart's in the right place," said Frank warmly.

"And a good heart too. But as we were saying when he burst into the room, Britons never shall be slaves, and I'm going back to Egypt after all to file off those chains."

"That's right," said the doctor warmly, "and just what I knew you would say. You are a man, Fred, who has found out things that have puzzled a good many--"

"Better ones," said the professor modestly. "Well, I have."

"And you've made out many an Egyptian hieroglyphic in your time."

"Yes, and I hope to find out more," said the professor.

"And will," cried Frank.

"But," said the doctor, "you are forbidden to go up the country--by the English and Egyptian authorities; and the Soudan is in the power of a savage and cruel impostor, who vows death to the white. How are you going up there to use those files?"

"Hah!" said the professor gravely; "whenever I have a difficult problem to solve I always put on my old red fez and have a thorough good think, and then the way seems to come."

"Yes," said the doctor, while Frank listened eagerly to what was said, "but--"

"Yes, but--" said the professor, taking him up sharply. "We've got our news, thank Heaven! and that's enough for to-night."

"And you can't put on your old red fez," said Frank, "because--"

"Exactly," said the professor; "because it is at my rooms in Fountain Court."

CHAPTER THREE.

PERFECTLY SANE.

"Good morning, Frank, my lad," said Doctor Morris, shaking hands upon the young man entering his study. "Ready for business?"

"Ready, yes," was the reply, made with feverish haste. "Am I late?"

"Late? No," said the doctor, glancing at the clock on the study mantelpiece. "Half an hour before the time."

"Oh, nonsense; that thing's wrong. Ever so much slow."

"Don't you insult my clock, my boy," said the doctor. "It keeps as good time as any one in London. It's you who are too fast. Keep cool, my lad, keep cool."

"Who can keep cool at a time like this?" said Frank impatiently.

"You, if you try. Surgeons have to. Important work requires cool heads."

"I'll try," said Frank briefly.

"Fred Landon was right last night in putting matters off till this morning, so that we could all have a good night's rest."

Frank looked quickly up at his brother's old school-fellow with something like envy, as he sat there softly stroking the great, dark brown beard, which flowed pretty well all over the breast of the heavy blue dressing-gown, tied with thick silk cords about his waist, and thought what a fine-looking specimen of humanity he was; while the doctor at the same time scanned the rather thin, anxious face before him and mused to himself--

"Poor Frank! the boy looks pulled down and careworn, and this has completely upset him. I must take him in hand a bit. He has been working too hard, too, over his chemistry."

Just then their eyes met, and Frank coloured a little, as if self-conscious.

"I was afraid Landon would be here first," he said hurriedly, "and that you would both be waiting for me."

"You ought to have known him better," said the doctor, laughing. "Fred Landon never is first at any meeting. I always allow him an hour's lat.i.tude."

"Oh, surely he will not be late this morning?" cried Frank anxiously.

"I hope not; but he may be. Of course he meant to be punctual, and I have no doubt he got up and breakfasted extra early; but anything takes off his attention--a book, a drawing, a note about Egypt--and he forgets everything else. You should have called in the Temple this morning and brought him on."

"Of course! I didn't think of that. Here, I'll go and fetch him at once."

"No, no; give him time. Perhaps he will have been thinking so seriously about poor Harry, that for once he will be punctual."

"Here he is!" cried Frank excitedly, as a thundering knock was heard at the front door, and he sprang up in his anxiety to go and open to their friend himself.