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In the Mahdi's Grasp, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. For Freedom |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. FOR FREEDOM The English party had ample proof of Ibrahim's words, for the narrow ways of the city were thronged that day with the wild troops that had ridden in from the desert, many too from Khartoum, and the wild blasts and throbbings of barbaric trumpet and drum resounded through the place; but the Emir's house remained undisturbed, though more than once the professor noticed that there was an uneasy look in the eyes of the head guard when he came near them, and appeared to be especially devoted to the care of all in the place. That day there were no calls upon the Hakim for help, and he was able to devote himself entirely to Frank, upon whom his ministrations had the best effect. In fact, he woke that night as if out of a long sleep looked wonderingly at Sam, and seemed puzzled by the bandages laid across his head. Then as if realising that he had been ill, he lay perfectly still, thinking, till the doctor came to his side a short time later, when he took and pressed the hand which felt his pulse and head, nodded gently, and proved at once that the fit of delirium had quite passed away, for he said in a whisper-- "Don't say anything. I know I have been ill. But tell me: any news of Harry?" "Not yet, my dear boy. We must have patience." "Yes, Frank, lad," said the professor cheerily, "patience." Frank bowed his head softly and let his eyelids drop, lying perfectly still for some little time. "Drowsy, Frank?" said the doctor at last. But there was no reply. All was silent but the distant sound of shouting and uproar, as if the newcomers to the city were quarrelling with their friends. The silence startled the professor, who looked from their new patient to the doctor, and back again searchingly; but the latter paid no heed. "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 pass 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 passed 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 God 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 anticipated, 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 assistant; 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." "But your hurt?" said the doctor eagerly. "My left arm." "What, kicked?" "No," said the sufferer, perfectly calm now. "I broke it myself." A deep silence fell upon the group, save that the old Sheikh uttered a low groan, and then the doctor was himself again. This was real--real suffering to allay, and a word brought the professor to his side, just as Sam came hurriedly to the inner door, fresh from Frank's angareb. "Hush! Not a word," said the doctor sternly; "only help me here. Quick! my case, lint, bandages, and splints." But Sam did not move. He stood as if turned to stone, gazing where the light shone upon Harry Frere's thin, worn face, and reading recognition in the eyes fixed full upon his. "Oh!" he cried, with a sob, and forgetting everything he sprang to the side of the litter and dropped upon his knees. "Mr Harry at last!" The doctor could not speak, as he saw his old companion raise his right hand and lay it upon the servant's shoulder, while the professor uttered a strange sound, which, if it had escaped a woman's breast would have been termed a sob. Then the doctor spoke. "That will do," he said sternly. "Obey my orders at once. The rest must wait till we are safe." Sam sprang up to fetch what was required, and the professor made an effort to recover his composure, the demand made upon him by his old school-fellow's condition rousing him to action. "One word only," said the prisoner faintly. "You said my brother--" "He is yonder," said the doctor quietly; "ill, but not seriously. You must not see him now. His _ruse_ has succeeded, and we have you here. Now I must see to your arm." "No, no, not now," said Harry excitedly; "we must make some plan or another about escaping. You must not stay here--you will be discovered." "Leave that to us," said the doctor sternly. "No, no," cried his new patient. "I have nearly been driven mad during my long imprisonment, but if aught happens to you all I shall go quite out of my mind in my despair." "Silence!" said the doctor sternly. "You are badly hurt, and your injury is telling upon your brain. I will not have you dwell upon our position. Look here, you can trust us. We have found our way here, found you, and had you brought to us. Give up to us at once, and trust to our doing what is best." "Yes, yes," said the poor fellow passionately; "but you do not understand. Never mind my arm. I will keep still, and the fracture will mend of itself." "Will it?" said the doctor grimly. "Yes, yes; but look here," whispered the sufferer; "we must talk; we must decide upon some action." "No," said the doctor, "not now. You do not understand our position." "I can guess it," said the poor fellow wildly. "Think then of mine. I am brought here for you to set my arm; in half an hour at the outside I shall be taken back to my owner. We may not have another opportunity to speak--we may never meet again." "Now I insist," said the doctor firmly. "You will have plenty of time to talk to us by and by." "No, no; you do not understand, Morris." "But the Hakim does," said the doctor grimly. "Now I order you to trust to me and wait." The poor fellow's head fell back, as he uttered a groan of despair, and the next minute, with eyes half-closed, he lay perfectly still, suffering acute pain, but making no sign, while the great surgeon's deft fingers felt the injury, commenting upon it from time to time, so that Landon could hear, and while splint and bandage were handed to him as required, by the professor or Sam. "A simple fracture of the ulna," said the doctor calmly; "no splinters, and as far as I can make out, very little laceration of the muscle--easy to set, and it ought to be rapid in the healing. There!" he said at last, "the broken ends will begin to secrete fresh bone matter almost directly, and with care your arm will be as strong as the other. Cup, glass, and number four bottle, Frederick, my son." The professor hurried away to the doctor's case, and the latter took hold of his patient's hand to feel the pulse. "A little feverish, Hal, old fellow," he said calmly. "Did I hurt you very much?" "Oh, no. But Rob, old lad!" "Silence!" was the uncompromising command.--"Ah, that's right, Fred. Bottle, glass, water! Now, Hal, drink that." "No," said the patient angrily. "It is a narcotic. You want to send me to sleep so that I shall not know what you are planning. Is it fair to me after I have broken a limb so as to get myself brought here?" "Perfectly fair. Listen; it is not a strong narcotic, only something to soothe the pain you must be in.--There, that's better. Hal, my dear old boy, you always did trust me; trust me now." "Well, I will," said the sufferer hoarsely. "That's right. Now I will set your mind at rest. The great Hakim has more power here than you think for." Harry Frere suppressed a groan, and his eyes wandered from one to the other, noting how the others present seemed waiting eagerly to obey their chiefs slightest gesture or word; while now at a sign he saw the Sheikh close up and stand waiting with bended head. "Go to the officer who brought our friend, and tell him to come here." The Sheikh turned to go, but the professor interposed. "One moment," he said earnestly; "Frank is in there--you know how. Suppose he begins to speak as he did last night." "It is not probable," said the doctor quietly. "Go, Ibrahim." The Sheikh passed out of the room and through the door, to where the two officers stood waiting patiently, with their men a short distance away; and as a curtain was drawn aside a burst of barbaric music and loud cries of "Allah! Allah!" were borne into the room. As the curtain dropped back into its place the doctor took a cushion, and carefully raising the splinted and bandaged arm placed the soft pillow beneath. "Now," he said, "lie still and close your eyes. Don't stir while these men are here. I need not tell you to try and look bad, for Nature is helping you there, my dear old fellow. Hal, lad, your arm will soon knit together, but make your mind easy: you are too bad to move." "No, no, Rob, you are wrong. I feel a little drowsy, but so free from pain. I could get up and walk." "The Hakim thinks differently. Silence! They are coming. Samuel, stand there! Fred, my son, bend over him with those bandages and that scalpel.--Hist! Close your eyes." His orders were obeyed, and as Harry Frere closed his sunken eyes, old cares and sufferings, combined with the mental and bodily agony he was passing through, gave his face, in the shadowy, dim, curtained room, a look that was absolutely ghastly. Directly after the curtain was drawn aside by the Sheikh for the two officers to pass in, both looking awed as they gave a sharp look round at the strange scene. The next moment the Baggara who had brought the injured man started forward a step to look down at his charge, and then recoiled, to say a few hurried words to the Sheikh, who turned gravely to the doctor and interpreted. "The Emir's servant says, Excellency, that the white slave is dead, and that he dare not go back with the tidings, lest his head should fall." The Hakim turned slowly to the officer and smiled, as he laid a hand upon his patient's forehead. "Tell him," he said, "to bear the tidings to his master that the white slave will live, and his broken arm will soon be well." "Ah!" exclaimed the Baggara. "The Hakim is great. Then we may carry him back at once?" The words were interpreted to the doctor, who made his reply. "No; if the slave is taken away he may die. Bid him tell his master that the Hakim will keep the injured slave here and make him whole, as he has the Emirs, his master's friends." The Baggara officer looked troubled and perplexed. "Tell the great Hakim that his servant was bidden to bring the slave here and take him back. There is nothing for him but to obey." "Yes," said the doctor, drawing himself up proudly and fixing the man with his eyes, pausing at times to give Ibrahim ample time to interpret his words, "it is his duty to obey till a greater man than his master bids him do this or that." The doctor's words sounded loud and imperious, and he had got so far when an impatient voice was heard from the room where Frank was lying, calling first one and then another, and a cold chill ran through all present, for the voice sounded as it were the knell of all their hopes. Even the doctor was silenced for the moment, but recalling directly that only the Sheikh could understand his words, he called angrily in a voice of thunder, looking hard at the Sheikh the while. "Lie still, Frank, till I come!" Then: "Tell thy master that the Hakim will keep the white slave here. Take him this from me as my pledge that I will cure his slave. Enough! Now go." As he spoke he raised his hand to his white turban, detached the large Egyptian jewel he wore, and then gave it to the Sheikh, who took it reverently, and as he interpreted humbly the Hakim's words ended by placing the rare token in the officer's hands. The Baggara bowed his head over the pledge, as he wrapped it carefully in his fine linen scarf, and saying humbly, "The Hakim is great," he gave a final glance at the patient and backed slowly out of the room, followed by the officer of the Emir's guard, while the curtain was quivering still where it had fallen back when Frank appeared in the opening leading to his room. "What does all this mean?" he said. Then, catching sight of the ghastly figure lying upon the couch, he uttered a cry of joy, and rushing forward fell upon his knees by his brother's side. _ |
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