"Is this right?" he said at last, anxiously.

"Yes, perfectly right. What I have given him has checked the fever, and he will sleep from exhaustion for many hours to come. But we must watch by him through the night, in case there should be any relapse. I do not think there will be, but we will be upon our guard."

"Of course," said the professor. "I was going to propose that I should sit up with him."

"Thanks, my dear Fred," said the doctor gravely; "but I have already made my plans. We will take three hours each. Which watch will you have?"

"The first," said the professor.

"Best so. Watch by him till midnight; then wake up Samuel, and he shall call me at three."

The Hakim was master of the position, and everything was carried out as he proposed, the doctor coming on duty to receive the same report as the professor had given to Sam, to wit, that the patient had not stirred.

It was about six, and the doctor was congratulating himself upon the long, restful night his patient had enjoyed, when the face of the old Sheikh appeared at the open window, to which the doctor stepped softly and satisfied the old man as to the sick one's state.

Ibrahim nodded his satisfaction, and set to work at once upon Sam's duties, preparing the morning meal quite as a matter of course, but receiving orders to hurry nothing, so that no one should be disturbed.

"The young Excellency will be better soon?" whispered the old man.

"If we could give him good tidings to-day, Ibrahim, he would be nearly well," replied the doctor. "Have you anything to tell?"

"Nothing, Excellency, only that the city is full of dervishes, and the wretched people are lamenting that they have not fled to the north.

They pray that the Egyptian army may soon be here. One said last night, 'If the Khedive's people do not soon come they will find none of us left. These our masters will either slay or carry us away for slaves.'"

An hour of patient watching ensued, and then there was the sound of many voices at the gate, and Ibrahim's grave face looked full of anxiety as he hurried out, while the doctor aroused his friend and Sam.

He had just time to return to the side of Frank's couch, to find him sleeping still, when Ibrahim came back to the door with the officer of the guard, and their manner set his heart at rest, for they had evidently no danger to announce.

The old Sheikh set his face hard, as he spoke in a whisper.

"One of the chiefs--a friend of our master the great Emir, and friend of the new Mahdi," he said, "sends you one of his slaves, O Hakim, and bids you for the sake of your young friend, whom he saved from a dervish band, to heal his hurt."

The doctor felt as if something had clutched his breast, and he looked up, fighting hard to be composed, to see that the professor had come to the inner door and was hearing every word.

His voice sounded husky as he spoke, but he mastered his emotion and said gravely--

"My knowledge is at the service of all who suffer, and I will try and heal the slave of the great Emir's friend. Let the injured man be brought to the door. What is his hurt?"

"Thy servant cannot tell," said the old man, and he interpreted the Hakim's words to the officer, who retired, and in a few minutes returned, ushering to the outer door a white figure lying with fast-closed eyes upon a hand litter, which was set down outside.

The Hakim drew a deep breath, and again had to fight hard to maintain his composure, for he felt that the critical time had come, just, too, when he who had toiled so hard to bring all this about was lying insensible to the success of his plot.

It was only a temporary fit of nervous agitation, and then the Hakim was walking gravely and full of dignity of mien to where the injured man lay, the professor following him, trembling with excitement.

There were about a dozen of the chiefs followers standing about the litter, all eager to catch a glimpse of the great Hakim, but ready to shrink back reverently when he appeared, leaving only the chief of the guards and one who was their leader.

These, too, drew back a little, and all seemed to accept as a matter of course that the great Hakim should pa.s.s gravely out of the door, walk round the litter, and then stand by its side with his back to them, the professor and Ibrahim taking their positions close by.

"Let the Emir's people say why this man has been brought," said the Hakim slowly, and as he looked down he saw the occupant of the bier start and tremble; but did not raise his eyelids.

The Sheikh interpreted the words, and the head man, who had superintended the bringing of the slave, said quickly--

"Tell the great wise Hakim that our master's slave is broken. We know not how, and he has not spoken since. But he waits upon the horses, and one must have kicked him in the side."

It was hard work to be calm at such a time, the man's words when interpreted by the Sheikh seeming to stab and give the hearers intense pain.

But the Hakim remained firm, and bending down he laid his left hand softly upon the sufferer's eyes and the right upon the breast, remaining perfectly motionless for a minute; then raising himself he said in his deepest tones--

"Let the young man be taken within."

The Hakim's orders were interpreted again, and there was a little excitement for a few minutes, during which the doctor gravely walked back to the inner room, leaving the professor and Ibrahim to superintend the moving, and waiting till the bearers had pa.s.sed out again and the window was closed.

A deep silence fell upon the group, while the Sheikh drew back respectfully, to stand on guard by the door of the partially darkened room.

Then the doctor spoke in his low, deep tones.

"There must be no emotion, no outburst of excitement, Hal. Our work is all to do yet, and our lives depend upon our being calm. Just a word or two in the lowest tone."

"Morris, old friend," was whispered, in faltering accents, and the thin, careworn object of their mission gazed up wildly in his old school-fellow's eyes. "You have dared to come here--for me?"

"Yes, and please G.o.d we will take you back in safety."

"We?" whispered the prisoner. "Who is that brave young black who ventured so much?"

"Your brother Frank," said the doctor slowly, and he laid his hand quickly upon his new patient's burning brow, for as he antic.i.p.ated, there was a violent start.

But the prisoner with a great effort mastered his emotion, and said softly--

"I did not know him. And you two have risked your lives like this?"

"We and Fred Landon," said the doctor softly.

"Fred Landon!" cried the patient, with a hysterical gasp. "Dear old Fred! How like him!--Tell him--"

"Tell me yourself, Hal," whispered a voice at the back of his head.

"Some time, but not now. I am the Hakim's a.s.sistant; there, I may grip your hand, dear old lad. Anyone might see me do that."

He reached over to seize the prisoner's left hand, for the right was in the doctor's, when in spite of a brave effort there was a violent start, the right hand contracted spasmodically upon the doctor's, but the left lay inert, while they saw the great drops of agony gathering upon the thin, sunburnt face.

"Hal!" cried the doctor, dropping his practised calm. "Great heavens!

you are not really hurt?"

"I could not help wincing," was the faltering reply. "Not hurt? How was I to have been brought here without?"

"We expected some pretence."

"Pretence!" said Harry Frere bitterly. "You do not know the Baggaras.

They are keenness itself. It is real enough, but I am well paid for the pain."