The two Parisians ought to have halted a few yards from the gang, and
have harangued or fought them there. They were armed with revolvers
only, and, in a _mêlée_, fire-arms, of whatever description they be,
frequently become of no use, because, if space for taking aim is not
forthcoming, the firing must be all snap-shooting and without effect.
But M. de Morin, carried away by his habitual impetuosity, rushed
upon the gang, M. Périères followed him, and they found themselves in
the midst of half a dozen men, armed with knives and very formidable
curved swords.
This sudden dash into the ruck, which closed round the trio with
corresponding rapidity, had, however, one advantage, for at their
very feet, in the roadway, and, so to speak, under their protection,
they saw the man or woman who, a moment previously, was being carried
towards the Nile. This living body, bound, gagged, and enveloped, as
with a winding-sheet, in a large white bûrnus, gave evident signs of
life in a series of convulsive jumps which, under other
circumstances, would have been diverting enough. It was for all the
world like a fish thrown up on a river bank, wriggling, floundering,
and banging his tail about in lively, though futile fashion.
M. de Morin was stooping down to remove the winding-sheet when, by
way of warning, he received a blow on his arm from a sword,
fortunately without sustaining any injury. He sprang up and made a
rush at his assailant, but stopped short suddenly on recognizing, in
the star-light, the chief of the slave caravan, with whom, but a
month previously, he had had such a sharp encounter.
The chief and his men simultaneously recognized the two Europeans,
and their joy knew no bounds. At last all their enemies had been
delivered into their hands, by mere chance, by the will of Allah. The
Prophet had taken compassion on them, their cries for vengeance had
reached him, their prayers had been heard. Not only had he given up
to them M. Delange, who had ventured into the establishment of the
Almehs, but he had also thrown in their way, at the dead of the
night, and on the banks of the Nile, his companions. The thought that
on two occasions in the same evening the Prophet had so manifestly
shown his favour to them, could not fail to have a powerful influence
on these fanatics, and it served to animate their courage. They made
the grand mistake, nevertheless, of evidencing their joy prematurely,
of relying too much on their superior strength, and, confident of
victory, betrayed a secret which they would have done well to
conceal. The chief, a European by birth, as we have already said, and
speaking French, after a fashion, was imprudent enough to exclaim—
"At last you are all three in our power!"
"All three!" cried M. Périères, turning towards his friend.
They looked at each other, and took the whole thing in at a glance.
The shapeless heap at their feet, the gagged and shrouded being could
be no other than their companion. Dr. Delange. This unexpected
revelation produced a complete and instantaneous change in their
programme. It was no longer a question of risking their lives to save
some unknown unfortunate, some ailing slave, as they had supposed,
who was to be thrown into the Nile as the best means of disposing of
such worthless property; the business in hand now was to rescue a
fellow countryman, a friend, for whom they were ready to sacrifice
themselves just as he would have done for them in similar
circumstances.
"The fools!" whispered M. Périères in M. de Morin's ear. "And to
think that I was just going to suggest getting out of this scrape as
quietly as possible?"
"A brilliant idea that would have been!" replied M. de Morin. "What
would have become of the poor Doctor? See, he has recognised our
voices and is giving a few more evidences of vitality in order to
attract our attention."
And, so saying, he was stooping down to take hold of the bûrnus once
more, when Périères, seizing him by the arm, exclaimed—
"Wait. They are too near us. Let us clear the ground."
And, without waiting for a reply, he fired three random shots with
his revolver.
These produced an immediate effect, for, though their adversaries
were not hit, they recoiled, and so the circle was enlarged. MM.
Périères and de Morin took advantage of this movement, and, without
taking their eyes off the Arabs, who were already crowding in again
upon them, they snatched away the bûrnus, and in a second had cut the
thongs which bound M. Delange hand and foot, and relieved him of his
gag.
"Phew!" said the Doctor, still confused and trying to stand up. "You
are just in time. I thought it was all up with me. A thousand thanks.
Have you a pistol?"
"No, but take the knife which served to release you."
"'Half a loaf is better than no bread.' Look out! Here they come!"
The Arabs, shouting and brandishing their swords, returned to the
charge.
Two fresh shots from the revolvers resounded on the midnight air, but
the balls took no effect, and the Arabs were unscathed.
"The game is not equal!" exclaimed M. de Morin. "Our task is ended.
Let us run for it."
The danger must have been extreme indeed for M. de Morin to speak of
flight. And it was so.
These three young men, armed with one knife and two revolvers, could
not, as one half of their ammunition was already expended, struggle
for any length of time with the slightest chance of success against
six men, furnished with swords and daggers. But the successive
reports of the pistols, in a suburb of Khartoum and within a few
yards of the inhabited portion of it, had attracted the attention of
an Egyptian picket patrolling the town. As a rule, the soldiers who
in Upper Egypt act as police only put in an appearance when they
think there is no danger. If they do not hesitate to take strong
measures against quarrelsome slaves and drunken negroes, they
prudently avoid all interference in the disputes of the Mussulmen,
slave dealers and scamps of all sorts, who, knife in hand, swarm
about Khartoum. But a large portion of the Egyptian army is composed
of prisoners taken in former days from the territories now annexed to
Egypt, and those in whom the Government places the most reliance come
from the Dinka tribe, fine, brave, soldier-like looking men. The
slave merchants have for some time past abandoned all idea of dealing
with this tribe, their indomitable character, their independent
spirit, and, above all, their strength rendering them very dangerous
customers. In the ranks of the army, on the contrary, although they
are occasionally insubordinate, they render valuable service. The
commanding officers themselves frequently belong to this tribe, and
it was only last year that the Soudan contingent was under the
command of Adam Pasha, a Dinka ex-prisoner.
The small picket, which, attracted by the noise, came to the
assistance of the three Europeans, was fortunately almost entirely
composed of these picked men. As soon as they saw the Arabs, they
advanced against them at the double, attacked them at close quarters,
and dealt their blows right and left without apparently taking any
thought of their own danger.
The struggle was soon over. Two Arabs took to flight, whilst the
remaining four, hastily concealing their arms, began to bellow and
shout, and maintained that they were the victims of an unprovoked
attack on the part of the Europeans. The latter contented themselves
with a shrug of the shoulders without trying to enter into any
explanations, which, moreover, would have been utterly futile, seeing
that the Dinkas could not have understood them. The matter ended, as
it would have done in our own country, by the whole party being taken
to the Egyptian station-house, situated in a square of Khartoum close
to the Divan. The soldiers, however, treated the Europeans with the
greatest courtesy, making them walk in front, without using any
force, whereas on the slightest provocation they used both their
fists and their feet on their other prisoners, whom they had
recognised as slave dealers. The Dinkas hate these brutes, whom they,
and on good grounds, reproach with having depopulated their country,
and with still making razzias there for the purpose of seizing their
women, celebrated for their culinary and household talents, and, for
these reasons, eagerly sought after in every well-appointed harem.
When the station-house was reached, the Europeans succeeded in
explaining matters to the officer on duty, and were at once set at
liberty, whereas the traders were detained in durance vile to answer
later on for their misdeeds.
At home once more, in the house occupied by them in the centre of
Khartoum, the three Frenchmen, in spite of the excitement of the
evening and the fatigues of the night, sat down to congratulate each
other on their victory, and to talk over the expedition which had
been resolved upon at Madame de Guéran's house.
"It is unnecessary to say," said M. de Morin, addressing M. Delange,
"that I have no right to drag you into these stupid countries whither
we are bound. The Niam-Niam, whose acquaintance we shall soon be
called upon to make, are not provided by nature with tails, as many
travellers have stated—that is certain. But it is still more certain,
according to Piaggia, Poncet, Schweinfurth and many others, that they
file their teeth to a point in order to facilitate their digestion of
human flesh. Their neighbours, the Monbuttoos, are not one whit
behind them from an anthropophagous point of view; indeed, it is
currently reported of them that when very hungry they do not stop at
disinterment. I, consequently, my dear fellow, am not inhuman enough
to devote your body to the refreshment of these interesting races."
"De Morin might have added," continued M. Périères, puffing away at
his cigar with much gusto, and emitting clouds of smoke, to the great
annoyance of the numerous mosquitoes, "that those travellers who are
not fortunate enough to be eaten, generally speaking die of fatigue
and want. Without going very far afield for examples, I may mention
the Italian Miani, who in 1870 was the Director of the
Acclimatization Society in this town. He left for the South in 1871,
as we are going to do, and, a few months afterwards, he wrote in his
note-book the touching words I read this morning, 'I have no strength
to write—I am suffering horribly—I have had a trench dug for my
grave, and my servants have come to kiss my hands, and say—God grant
that you may not die!—Adieu, all my hopes! Adieu, the dreams of my
life! Adieu, Italy, for whose liberty I once fought!'"
"You see," resumed M. de Morin, "that the countries whither we are
bound are not altogether satisfactory. Resume your liberty once more,
and be sure that we shall never forget all that you have done for us
up to to-day."
"With your permission," answered M. Delange, "I am off to bed, and
to-morrow morning you shall know my decision. You have just saved my
life, and I feel that, to-night, I should be influenced by that
fact."