II

Up in Omdurman Peter Macnamara knew naught of this. He ran behind his

master's horse, he sat on his master's mat, he stood in the sun before

his master's door, barefooted and silent and vengeful in his heart, but

with a grin on his face. When Khartoum fell he and Slatin had been

thrown into the Saier loaded with irons. Then, when the Mahdi died he

had been made the slave of the Khalifa's brother, whose vanity was

flattered by having a European servant. The Khalifa Abdullah being angry

one day with his brother, vented his spite by ordering Macnamara back to

prison again. Later the Khalifa gave him to a favourite Emir for a

servant; but that service was of short duration, for on a certain morning

Macnamara's patience gave way under the brutality of his master, and he

refused to help him on his horse. This was in the presence of the

Khalifa, and Abdullah was so delighted at the discomfiture of the Emir

that he saved the Irishman's life, and gave him to Osman Wad Adam, after

he had been in irons three months and looked no better than a dead man.

Henceforth things went better, for Osman Wad Adam was an Arab with a

sense of humour, very lazy and very licentious, and Macnamara's Arabic

was a source of enjoyment to him in those hours when he did nothing but

smoke and drink bad coffee. Also Macnamara was an expert with horses,

and had taught the waler, which Osman Wad Adam had looted from Khartoum,

a number of admired tricks.

Macnamara wished many a time that he could take to the desert with the

waler; but the ride that he must ride to Wady Halfa was not for a horse.

None but a camel could do it. Besides, he must have guides, and how was

he to pay guides? More than once he had tried to get a word with Slatin,

but that was dangerous for them both--most dangerous for Slatin, who was

now the servant of the Khalifa Abdullah himself. Slatin was always

suspected, and was therefore watched carefully; but the Khalifa knew that

Macnamara had no chance to escape, for he had no friends in Cairo, no

money, and no more could have bought a camel than a kingdom. Escaping

from the city itself, he could but die in the desert.

He had only one Arab friend--little Mahommed Nafar the shoemaker. The

shoemaker was friendly to him for a great kindness done in the days when

they both lived in Khartoum and ere the Arab deserted to the camp of the

Mahdi. But what help could Mahommed Nafar give him unless he had money?

With plenty of money the shoemaker might be induced to negotiate with

Arab merchants coming from Dongola or Berber into Omdurman to get camels,

and arrange an escape down the desert to Wady Halfa; but where was the

money to come from?

One day, at a great review, when the roar of the drums rivalled the

hoarse shouts of the Mahdists, and the Baggaras, for a diversion, looted

one quarter of the town, Macnamara was told by his master that Slatin

had been given by the Khalifa to Mahommed Sherif, and was going to

Darfur. As a kind of farewell barbecue, whether or not intended by the

Khalifa as a warning to his departing general, ten prisoners had their

feet and hands cut off in the Beit-el-Mal, and five lost their heads as

well as their hands and feet.

"It makes my blood run cold," said Slatin softly in English, as Macnamara

passed him, walking at his master's stirrup.

"Mine's boilin', sir!" answered Macnamara.

Slatin's eyes took on a more cheerful look than they usually carried, for

it was many a day since he had been addressed with respect, and the "sir"

touched a mellow chord within him--memory of the days when he was

Governor of Darfur. Suddenly he saw the Khalifa's eyes fixed on

Macnamara, and the look, for a wonder, was not unfriendly. It came to

him that perhaps the Khalifa meant to take Macnamara for his own servant,

for it flattered his vanity to have a white man at his stirrup and on his

mat. He knew that the Khalifa was only sending himself to Darfur that he

might be a check upon Mahommed Sherif. He did not think that Macnamara's

position would be greatly bettered, save perhaps in bread and onions, by

being taken into the employ of the Khalifa. His life would certainly not

be safer. But, if it was to be, perhaps he could do a good turn to

Macnamara by warning him, by planting deep in the Khalifa's mind the

Irishman's simple-minded trustworthiness. When, therefore, the Khalifa

suddenly turned and asked him about Macnamara he chose his words

discreetly. The Khalifa, ever suspicious, said that Macnamara had been

thrown into prison twice for insubordination. To this Slatin replied:

"Sire, what greater proof could be had of the man's simplicity? His life

is in your hands, sire. Would he have risked it, had he not been the

most simpleminded of men? But you who read men's hearts, sire, as others

read a book, you know if I speak truth." Slatin bent his head in

humility.

The flattery pleased the Khalifa.

"Summon Osman Wad Adam and the man to me," he said.

In the questioning that followed, Macnamara's Arabic and his

understanding of it was so bad that it was necessary for Slatin to ask

him questions in English. This was a test of Macnamara, for Slatin said

some things in English which were not for the Khalifa's knowing. If

Macnamara's face changed, if he started, Abdullah's suspicions, ever

ready, would have taken form.

But Macnamara's wits were not wool-gathering, and when Slatin said to

him, "If I escape, I will try to arrange yours," Macnamara replied, with

a respectful but placid stolidity: "Right, sir. Where does the old

sinner keep his spoof?"

It was now for Slatin to keep a hold on himself, for Macnamara's reply

was unexpected. Ruling his face to composure, however, he turned to the

Khalifa and said that up to this moment Macnamara had not been willing to

become a Mahommedan, but his veneration for the Mahdi's successor was so

great that he would embrace the true faith by the mercy of God and the

permission of the Khalifa. When the Khalifa replied that he would accept

the convert into the true faith at once, Slatin then said to Macnamara:

"Come now, my man, I've promised that you will become a Mahommedan--it's

your best chance of safety."

"I'll see him on the devil's pitchfork first," said Macnamara; but he did

not change countenance. "I'm a Protestant and I'll stand be me baptism."

"You'll lose your head, man," answered Slatin. "Don't be a fool."

"I'm keepin' to what me godfathers and godmothers swore for me," answered

Macnamara stubbornly. "You must pretend for a while, or you'll be dead

in an hour--and myself too."

"You--that's a different nose on me face," answered Macnamara. "But

suppose I buck when I get into the mosque--no, begobs, I'll not be doin'

it!"

"I'll say to him that you'll do it with tears of joy, if you can have a

month for preparation."

"Make it two an' I'm your man, seein' as you've lied for me, sir. But on

wan condition--where does he keep his coin?"

"If you try that on, you'll die bit by bit like the men in the Beit-el-

Mal to-day," answered Slatin quickly. "I'm carvin' me own mutton, thank

ye kindly, sir," answered Macnamara.

"I've heard that part of his treasure is under his own room," went on

Slatin quickly, for he saw that the Khalifa's eyes had a sinister look-

the conversation had been too long.

"Speak no more!" said Abdullah sharply. "What is it you say, my son?"

he added to Slatin.

"He has been telling me that he is without education even in his own

faith, and that he cannot learn things quickly. Also he does not

understand what to do in the mosque, or how to pray, and needs to be

taught. He then asked what was impossible, and I had to argue with him,

sire."

"What did he ask?" asked the Khalifa, his fierce gaze on Macnamara.

"He wished to be taught by yourself, sire. He said that if you taught

him he would understand. I said that you were the chosen Emperor of the

Faithful, the coming king of the world, but he replied that the prophets

of old taught their disciples with their own tongues."

It was a bold lie, but the Khalifa was flattered, and made a motion of

assent. Slatin, seeing his advantage, added:

"I told him that you could not spare the time to teach him, sire; but he

said that if you would talk to him for a little while every day for a

month, after he had studied Arabic for two months, he would be ready to

follow your majesty through life and death."

"Approach, my son," said the Khalifa to Macnamara suddenly. Macnamara

came near. He understood Arabic better than he had admitted, and he saw

in this three months' respite, if it were granted, the chance to carry

out a plan that was in his mind. The Khalifa held out a hand to him, and

Macnamara, boiling with rage inwardly and his face flushing--which the

Khalifa mistook for modesty--kissed it.

"You shall have two moons to learn Arabic of a good teacher every day,

and then for one moon I myself will instruct you in the truth," said

Abdullah. "You shall wait at my door and walk by my stirrup and teach my

horse as you have taught the English horse of Osman Wad Adam. Thy

faithful service I will reward, and thy unfaithfulness I will punish with

torture and death."

"I'll cut the price of the kiss on those dirty fingers from a dervish

joint," muttered Macnamara to himself, as he took his place that evening

at the Khalifa's door.

One thing Macnamara was determined on. He would never pray in a

Mahommedan mosque, he would never turn Mahommedan even for a day. The

time had come when he must make a break for liberty. He must have money.

With money Mahommed Nafar, who was now his teacher--Slatin had managed

that--would move for him.

Under the spur of his purpose Macnamara rapidly acquired Arabic, and

steadfastly tried to make Mahommed Nafar his friend, for he liked the

little man, and this same little man was the only Arab, save one, from

first to last, whom he would not have spitted on a bayonet. At first he

chafed under the hourly duplicity necessary in his service to the

Khalifa, then he took an interest in it, and at last he wept tears of joy

over his dangerous proficiency. Day after day Macnamara waited, in the

hope of making sure that the Khalifa's treasure was under the room where

he slept. Upon the chance of a successful haul, he had made fervid

promises, after the fashion of his race, to the shoemaker Mahommed Nafar.

At first the shoemaker would have nothing to do with it: helping

prisoners to escape meant torture and decapitation; but then he hated the

Khalifa, whose Baggaras had seized his property, and killed his wife and

children; and in the end Macnamara prevailed. Mahommed Nafar found some

friendly natives from the hills of Gilif, who hated the Khalifa and his

tyrannous governments, and at last they agreed to attempt the escape.