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In the Mahdi's Grasp, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 27. Another Patient |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. ANOTHER PATIENT The young Baggara chief was evidently in a wild state of excitement, and turned at once to the professor, saying something in his own tongue, which the Englishman struggled hard but failed, in spite of his slight knowledge of the Baggara dialect, fully to grasp. "I can't make him out," said the professor excitedly. "It is something about a terrible battle and defeat." "He means us to escape for our lives," said the doctor excitedly. "Yes, look," he continued, for the young chief pointed to the window, nodded to the speaker, and hurried away. "Quick!" said the professor; "stop for nothing. We must get to the camels, and take our chances." As he spoke the young chief dashed in again, followed by the Sheikh, the panting horse having been handed over to one of the guard; and this time the young man crossed to Frank, laid his left hand upon the young man's shoulder, smiling proudly, and waving his right hand in the air as if cutting with his sword. "The Emir's son bears the news, Excellencies, that there has been a great battle, and that his father and his friends have routed the rebellious ones, who have taken to flight, leaving many killed and wounded, and among these there is the Emir's greatest friend. He has been shot by a gun and is dying, but the Emir bids you be ready to bring him back to life, for he is like a brother and saved him from his treacherous foes." "That's a modest demand for one evening, Robert, my son," said the professor, with a quaintly humorous look. "How do you feel?" "As if I had been raising the expectations of these people till the time had come for their hopes to be dashed." While he was speaking the triumphant blowing of trumpets and discordant beating of drums, heard faintly upon the evening air, announced the return of the victorious forces from what had doubtless been nothing much more serious than a slight skirmish. But it was serious enough for the friends. "What is to be done?" said the professor. "We shall have to go to the dying man's place." The Sheikh heard what was said, and turned to question the young chief at once. "No, Excellencies," he said; "the Emir is having his brother chief borne to his own house. He will be brought to the palace here, and will not be long." "Very well," said the Hakim gravely; "I will do my best. The instruments, Ben Eddin," he continued, "and what is necessary." Sam was already at the door, and Frank joined him, to prepare all that would be required, while the young chief looked on, eager and smiling, but standing aloof from the Hakim as if in perfect confidence as to the result, but feeling a superstitious dread of his power. There was an interval of waiting then, with the sound of the instruments preceding the triumphant warriors coming nearer and nearer, till all at once the young chief nodded smilingly to Frank, said a few words to the Sheikh, and hurried out. "What does that mean?" said the professor. "He has gone to see how the chief is and will come to see you as soon as they have brought him in. He says--" The Sheikh stopped short, and looked from one to the other as if perplexed. "What does he say?" asked the doctor sternly. "He said, O Hakim," replied the Sheikh humbly, "that he hoped his father's friend and brother was dead." "He said that! Why? Is this an enemy?" "No, Excellency; it is because others of the chief men and their doctors do not believe in you, and he wants to show them how great you are." The professor uttered a groan and glanced in a horrified way at his old friend, who sat now on a rug, looking perfectly calm in what seemed to be an emergency. "There is nothing to mind," he said. "The young man is superstitious and ignorant, but his father is wise and our friend. Let us hope that the chief is not dead; but gun-shot wounds are more to be dreaded than a gash from a knife or spear. Be perfectly calm, both of you; there is nothing to mind." "Of course not," said the professor, recovering himself now. "I was startled for the moment by that false alarm. No, there is nothing to mind, even if the other chiefs are sceptical. You have knowledge enough to win their respect." Further conversation was put an end to by the coming of the Emir himself, with his son, who entered, hot and covered with dust, to say a few words to the Sheikh, who bowed humbly to hear them. "The Emir bids me ask you to come and save his friend, O Hakim, but he fears that it is too late." The doctor rose at once, signed to his followers, and then motioned to the Emir to lead on. He drew back, however, and said a few words to his son, who led off at once, while the father walked quite humbly behind the great man to whom he owed his life. Frank glanced wonderingly round as the little procession passed out into a kind of hall whose floor was covered with Eastern rugs, and in which were grouped about some fifty armed men, who showed plenty of grim signs of having been in a serious fray. Then onward through a couple of rooms handsomely draped with curtains which gave them the appearance of tents, and into a much larger apartment, upon a broad divan in which, dimly shown by a couple of brass lamps, lay the insensible figure of a stalwart Baggara, the blackest they had yet seen, his glistening skin showing strangely in contrast with the white folds turned back from his broad chest, and hideously stained with blood. As the party entered several women held their head-cloths to their faces and stole silently out, leaving none there but three grim-looking Mullahs, who had evidently been playing the parts of surgeons to the injured Emir, and who scowled angrily at the little party that now entered the room. Standing silently afterwards with their hands upon their breasts they gazed through their half-closed eyes as if contemptuously waiting to hear what this infidel Hakim would say. It was a crucial position for the doctor, but he played his part with the greatest dignity, while the Emir stood near as if in perfect confidence as to his friend's powers, and the son glanced at Frank with a malicious look in his dark eyes, which he turned directly half-mockingly at the Mullahs. The Hakim bowed haughtily to his Soudanese _confreres_, and then turned to the Sheikh. "Stand on my left hand, a little back," he said, "ready to interpret." The Sheikh bowed reverently and took his place, while to Frank the scene in the gloomy, tent-like room resembled some great picture of Eastern life that he had once seen. Then throwing back the long white sleeves of his robe the Hakim bent down over the patient, and with rapid touches of his white hands as if he were performing some incantation--so it struck the lookers-on, though it was only the _tactus eruditus_ of the skilled surgeon--he soon satisfied himself that his patient lived, and of the injury which had laid the strong man low. Frank was ready with all he required, water, sponge, towels, lint, and probe, while the professor carried bottle, graduated glass, and a pocket filter slung at his side, furnished with a syphon-like tap. The silence was strangely oppressive during those few minutes, and as he examined his patient the Hakim gave aloud the results of his examination, as if speaking expressly for the professor's ear alone. "Not dead," he said, "and he has not lost much blood. A very serious wound, and the bullet without doubt there. Quite beyond my reach. No: it has not passed through. I dare probe no more to-night. I must wait for the daylight, and give him some hours to recover a little from the shock." Meanwhile the Emir was anxiously watching the Hakim's actions, and when at last he saw him plug the wound with medicated lint, and then take the bandage offered by Frank, he drew a sigh of relief, grasping the fact that the Hakim would not bind up the injury of one who had passed away. The Hakim then raised his head a little and turned to the Sheikh. "Tell the Emir," he said, "that his friend has received a very dangerous wound, but that I hope he will live." These words were translated to the chief, but in his interpretation the old Arab omitted the hopeful clause, and said definitely that the wounded man would recover. In an instant one of the Mullahs said scornfully-- "The infidel Frank lies unto you, Emir. Thy friend is wounded unto death. See, even now he dies." "The great Hakim never lies," said the Sheikh proudly. "The Emir will wait and see that the Hakim's words are true." "Yes," said the Emir sternly. "We will wait." Frank was standing back with his head humbly now in the shadow, holding some of the Hakim's paraphernalia, but with watchful eyes fixed upon the three Mullahs, and as the Emir spoke he noticed a quick, meaning glance pass from one to the other which struck him as full of malice and cunning. A thought instantly shot through him which chilled him for a moment. That look meant evil, he was sure. Something malevolent against the Frankish doctor who dared to intrude upon the ignorance and superstition of a trio of Mahometan priests. What would they do? Frank's thoughts came like flashes of mental light, and in an instant he felt that they dared not interfere with the Hakim who was so strongly in favour with the great Emir, but in an underhanded way they might bring all he had done to naught and contrive that the wounded, helpless man's last chance of life should fail. The idea was horrible, but he knew for certain that in their vile bigotry the followers of Mahomet would stop at nothing in their efforts to destroy the so-called infidel, and with his pulses beginning to beat fast in his excitement he planned how he could counteract any of the machinations these people might set going. For the more he thought the more convinced he felt that he was not misjudging these people. His memory brought up things that the old Sheikh had said about the jealousy the great Hakim had excited, and naturally enough; but what was to be done? The first thing, he felt, must be to warn the doctor. But how? He could not speak till they were alone. Even if he attempted to whisper to the professor, who was close at hand, it would be observed, for he would betray himself as an impostor, and in betraying himself he would raise suspicion against his companions. Those were painful moments, and he shivered and longed for the scene to come to an end, for his utter helplessness seemed to overwhelm him, and he felt ready to ask why he had placed himself in so terrible a position. Then he uttered a faint sigh of relief, for the professor reverently approached his friend and whispered a question, to which the Hakim, who stood over his patient, watch in one hand, the fingers of the other holding the insensible man's wrist, carefully counting the pulsations, replied by a grave bend of the head. The professor drew back and whispered to his fellow-assistant to prepare to go, while for his own part he took the bottle, water, and glasses to the Hakim, and once more stood waiting, while Frank carefully folded up lint and bandage, and replaced the instruments in their cases. But the Hakim did not stir, and in the midst of the impressive silence he stood there bare-headed with the light of the lamps above falling upon the deep lines in his broad, white forehead and knit brows, carefully marking the pulsations, the three Mullahs still standing with folded arms, as motionless as statues, and their eyes nearly closed; but there was a keen flash now and then through the lids as they kept an eager watch upon everything that was going on. At last the Hakim softly lowered the wounded chiefs hand and replaced his watch, turning slightly to the professor, who took a step towards him and held out bottle and glass, when a few drops from the former were carefully measured out, a little water from the filter added, and then the clear limpid medicament was slowly and carefully trickled between the sufferer's lips till all had passed. At that moment there was a faint rustling behind a great curtain which draped an opening in the darkest part of the sombre room, and directly after a small, dark hand appeared and was waved to and fro. Frank, in his watchfulness, saw everything. It was evidently the hand of one of the women who had glided out when his party entered--in all probability that of the favourite wife. The young Emir saw it too, for he turned a questioning face to his father, who bowed his head, and the young man stepped silently across to the curtain, drew it a little aside, and stood whispering answers to the eager questions which were asked. "The women!" thought Frank, who was ready to snatch at any straw. If he could only speak to Morris he would order that they should stay and keep watch by the sufferer's side all night, and so baffle any nefarious attempt that might be made. Then with a hopeful feeling arising in his breast Frank went slowly on with his task, which he could have finished at any moment, and waited for his opportunity, while, as if satisfied with the report, the inquirer drew back, a weary sigh sounding plainly out of the darkness, the curtain fell back into its former folds, and the young Emir returned to his father's side. By this time the administering of the sedative was ended, the professor had withdrawn with the bottle and glass, and the Hakim once more took hold of the sufferer's swarthy wrist, to remain counting the pulsations for many minutes, before laying the hand gently down and rising to stand, with folded arms, gazing at the stern, dark, immovable face. "Waiting. How long will he wait?" thought Frank, and his mental question was being asked by the three Mullahs who still stood like so many statues. Quite a quarter of an hour passed, and then the Hakim slowly turned his head and looked at the Sheikh, who bent his head to attention, and a thrill ran through Frank as he heard that all his anxieties were certainly for the moment at an end, for the doctor said quietly, "Tell his Highness the Emir that his friend is in too dangerous a state to be left." The Sheikh interpreted the words, and received in reply the Emir's words that the women of his household and the wounded man's own wife would watch by his side all night. "That is good, Ibrahim," replied the Hakim, "but their time is not yet. Tell the Emir that I and my people will keep watch till it is safe to leave him." The Emir drew a deep breath indicative of his satisfaction as he heard the Hakim's words, and then crossing to him he reverently took his hand, bent over it, and drew back, said a word or two to his son, who went to the three Mullahs and repeated his father's message, with the result that they whispered together for a few moments and then raised their heads haughtily and stalked slowly out of the tent-like room. The Emir then nodded shortly to his son, who, as he followed the Mullah's example, turned out of his way to go close to Frank and pat his shoulder warmly, as if to commend him for all that had been done. The next minute the Emir whispered again to Ibrahim, speaking earnestly, and bending reverently once more to the Hakim, he crossed to the curtain and passed behind it, the low sobbing of a woman being heard directly after. Then all was silent as the grave. "Yes, Ibrahim, what is it?" said the doctor, for the Sheikh was waiting to speak. "The Emir bids me say, O Hakim, that you will please consider his house your own, and order his servants to bring everything you desire. That he will have refreshing foods and drinks placed in the room through which we came, and divans and rugs are there for those who would rest. That three women of the household will be waiting all night with his friend's wife in the room beyond the curtains there. That if you find the danger increases and his friend the Emir is about to die, you will send me to the women with the sad tidings, that he and they may come to the wounded man's side. That he thanks, and prays for your success in bringing his friend back to life. That is all." "Then he does not expect me to perform miracles--to do impossibilities, Ibrahim?" said the doctor quietly. "No, Excellency," replied the Sheikh. "The Emir is a half-savage chief, but if he had been born in Cairo and lived amongst the English and the French he would have been great. He is wise. He says little, but he laughs in his heart at the fables of the Mullahs." "Then he is too sensible to take me for a prophet." "Oh, yes, Excellency; he thinks as I do, that you are a great physician, learned in all the wisdom of the Franks. He is a wise man, but his son is what you English call a fool. But will the Emir's friend live? His Excellency can trust me." "It is very doubtful, Ibrahim," said the doctor gravely. "There is a bullet lodged in a very dangerous part, and I fear that everything depends upon its being extracted before bad symptoms arise." "But the learned Hakim can do all those wonders I have seen, and cuts and sews, and the people grow well and strong." "Yes, Ibrahim, sometimes," said the doctor, with a sad smile; "but not when the bullet, sword, or spear has done too much. The Emir's friend is very bad, and if we had left to-night and these native doctors had stayed, he would never have seen the light of another day; for his life hangs upon a thread that I am going to watch and strengthen lest it should break." "Your Excellency is wiser in my eyes everyday I live," said the old man softly. "Yes, he is right; if you had left here to-night the chief would have died." "What do you mean, Ibrahim?" whispered the professor. "Your Excellency knows," replied the old man quietly. "For one thing, they would not have the wisdom to do what is right. For another thing, Excellency, they are jealous with the jealousy of ignorant, superstitious believers in false doctrines." The professor looked at the Sheikh searchingly. "I thought I knew you thoroughly, Ibrahim," he said at last; "but I find you are a wiser man than I thought." "No, Excellency," said the old man sadly; "I have only tried to be wise; and in a long life mixing a great deal with the people from the West I have learned far more than my people could ever know; but what is it?" he said, holding out his hollowed hand as if it contained something. "So little; and there is so much to know." "Yes," said the doctor slowly, "so much to know, Ibrahim, and life seems so short. I would give even some of that for the greater power of healing that would enable me to say, This man will live." _ |
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