"He says that because he wants to make the best of it, but I'm not going
to believe my poor guv'nor's enjoying this. He's wishing himself back
in Wimpole Street, I know."
"What's that?" said Frank suddenly.
"What? I see nothing."
"No, no. I mean that wild cry."
"Only a jackal. I daresay if you listen you will hear another answer
it. Pleasant note, isn't it?"
"Horrible! It sounded like some poor creature in pain."
"Hungry, perhaps," said the professor coolly. "Fine, wild, weird
prospect, this, eh?"
"It seems very dream-like and strange."
"Yes, it impressed me like that at first. After a while you begin to
think of how delightful it is, and what a change from pacing over the
burning sand in the daylight with the sun making the air quiver and glow
like a furnace, and your mouth turn dry and lips crack with the parching
you have to undergo."
"Shall we have to journey much by night?"
"Oh, yes; we shall do most of our marching then, but we need not trouble
about that. Ibrahim will do what is best. I have had a long talk with
him, and he proposes to go in a roundabout way for the enemy's camp."
"What! not go straight there?"
"No; it would mean suspicion. We must not go there unasked."
"Landon!" said Frank appealingly.
"It is quite right, and even if it takes time it will be the surest way.
Ibrahim says that if the Hakim performs a few cures as we get nearer,
the news thereof will reach the Khalifa's camp, where men die off in
hundreds, and after a time he will be sure to send for us. Just think
of the difference in our reception."
Frank nodded.
"In the one case we should be received with suspicion and most probably
turned back, perhaps be made prisoners; while, if at the new Mahdi's
wish we are sent for, we go there in triumph, and are respected and well
treated by everyone."
"Yes, yes; but the time will be passing away so swiftly, and that poor
fellow lying in agony and despair."
"Yes, but the more reason for being cautious. We must not build the
castle of our hopes upon the sand, Frank. I know it seems very hard,
and no doubt I sound cold-blooded for agreeing so readily to this Arab's
proposals, but I speak from ten years' experience of the old fellow. He
has thrown himself heart and soul into the adventure, and he is well
worthy of our trust; so, even at the expense of going against your own
wishes now and then, give way and follow out the old man's advice, even
when he would be ready to give way to you."
"I'll do my best," said Frank; "but it seems to me that I have already
bound _myself_ down to profound obedience in all things by undertaking
to go as a slave."
"Well, yes, that does bind you, certainly," said the professor.
"But what about these men that the Sheikh is taking with us? They will
be in the secret."
"Of course."
"Suppose they betray what I am."
"That would mean betraying their Sheikh. You need have no fear of
that."
"Well, let's talk about something else. We are bound now for the
Sheikh's encampment. What is going to be done first when we get there?"
"We put off Europe and put on Africa as far as is necessary."
"Hah!" said Frank, with a sigh.
"What does that mean, my lad?" said the professor sternly. "Are you
beginning to repent?"
"Repent!" said Frank between his teeth. "What a question! I am longing
to commence, for so far everything has been preparation."
"And a very brief preparation," said the professor, "if you come to
think of how short a time it is since you dashed in upon us after dinner
that evening with your news."
"Well, don't reproach me, Landon."
"Not I, my lad. I know what you must feel. All I want of you now is
for you to play the stoic. Make up your mind that you have done your
utmost to set the ball rolling; now let it roll, and only give it a
touch when you are asked. Believe me that you will be doing your best
then."
"I will try," said Frank firmly. "Only give me time. I am schooling
myself as hardly as I can. It is a difficult part to play."
The professor reached out his hand and gripped his young companion's
shoulder firmly, riding on for some minutes without relaxing his grasp,
the touch conveying more in the way of sympathy than any words would
have done, while the discomforts of the novel ride seemed to die away,
and the soft dreaminess of the night grew soothing; the vast silvery
grey expanse, melting away in its vastness, became lit-up with a faint
halo of hope, and with his spirits rising, Frank seemed another man when
the professor spoke again--
"Bob Morris will be feeling neglected."
"Go to him, then," said Frank quietly.
"No; you go first. But there's nothing like making a beginning at
once."
"In what way?" asked Frank, for his companion paused.
"Begin treating him as what he is to be till our task is done--the
learned Hakim; and begin to school yourself into acting as his slave."
"Now?"
"Why not? I spoke of him just now as Bob Morris. That's the last time
till we are safely under the British flag again."
"Yes, you are right," said Frank, and urging on his camel the animal
stepped out and passed of its own accord alongside that of the doctor,
who uttered a sigh of relief as he saw who it was.
"That's better, Frank," he said. "I was beginning to feel a bit lonely,
for this ride is not very cheerful, and the bringing of fresh muscles
into play is producing aches and pains."
Frank raised his hands to his head, and bowed down.
"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor; "not such a very bad imitation of a
salaam. What have you two been talking about?"
Frank raised his hand, and saw that his tall shadow was repeating the
action, as he pointed straight ahead.
"About our journey's end, eh?" said the doctor. "That's right. I shall
be glad to get there and lie down, if it is only upon the sand. How do
you get on with your camel?"
Frank made a despairing gesture.
"Same here," said the doctor. "I wish we could have had some lessons
first. But use is second nature, and I suppose this weary, aching
sensation of being waved about in the air will soon pass off. But I
say, Frank, my lad."
Frank turned to him.
"There, that will do for to-night," said the doctor pettishly. "I
haven't cut your tongue out yet, so just talk like a Christian. This
vast open place seems to sit upon my spirits, especially now that we're
making this night journey instead of lying comfortably in our beds.
Talk to me. You've done acting enough for the present."
"Very well," said Frank quietly; "but Landon thinks with me, that the
sooner I begin to play my part the sooner I shall make myself perfect."
"Well, yes, of course," grunted the doctor; "but leave it till we put on
our costumes. I say, I think this Sheikh is all right."
"Yes; I have perfect faith in him now."
"So have I. He's a fine old fellow; there is no doubt about that. But
Frank, my lad, I don't think I could have kept this up much longer if
you had gone on with that dumb-motion business. It only wanted that to
give me the horrors, for this night ride seems to be about the most
mysteriously weird business possible to conceive. Just look at the
ghostly appearance of the camels and their leaders, the long, strongly
marked shadows, and the mysterious light! I can't get away from the
idea that it is all a dream."
"That is how it has been impressing us," replied Frank.
"And no wonder. Everything is terribly unreal, and between ourselves I
am beginning to lose heart."
"You?" said Frank reproachfully. "You, the calm, grave surgeon,
accustomed to terrible scenes, to awful emergencies where men's lives
depend upon your coolness and that calm, firm manner in which you face
all difficulties!"
"Yes, at home and in my proper place. But here I seem to be
masquerading--playing, as it were."
"Playing!" said Frank reproachfully.
"Well, I hardly mean that, my dear boy," said the doctor softly; "but
all this is so strange and--well, yes--risky."
"Yes, it is risky," said Frank sadly, "but--"
"Yes, I know," said the doctor, interrupting; "I do think of why we are
doing it, and I can't help shrinking a bit and doubting my nerve to
carry it all through. If I break down in any way I shall sacrifice the
liberty if not the lives of you all. It is this that makes me feel
doubts about my nerve."
"I have none whatever," said Frank quietly. "You know how often you
have talked to me about the operations you have performed."
"Well, yes, I have talked to you a good deal both before and after some
of them. Harry and I always opened out our hearts to one another, and
when he went away he asked me to make you his substitute--to take his
place with you."
"So like Hal," said Frank softly. "Well, and so you have."
"Have I, lad? Well, I have tried, and it has been very pleasant to have
you come to me to chat over your experiences and successes and failures,
and to tell you mine."
"You have made more of a man of me," said Frank softly; "often and often
when I have felt that I was only an ignorant, blundering boy."
"I never saw much of the ignorance or blundering," said the doctor
quietly. "You were always too enthusiastic over your studies for that."
"Never mind about my qualities," said Frank, with a little laugh; "it is
like trying to put me off from talking about you. As I was going to
say, don't you remember telling me that whenever you were going to
perform an operation upon some poor suffering fellow-creature you always
felt a strong sensation of shrinking and want of nerve?"
"Of course. I always do."
"And that you always prayed that your efforts might be rightly guided?"
"Yes," said the doctor, very softly and slowly.
"And that the next day when you went into the operating theatre and
stood there with the patient before you, the students and surgeons with
your assistants about you ready for the task, you always felt as calm
and cool as possible, and that your nerves were like steel?"
"Yes! It is so."
"Then why should you feel doubt now? I have none."
The doctor was silent for a few minutes as they rode on through the
mysterious-looking night, their shadows bowing and undulating on the
sand.
"I suppose it is the same," he said at last, "with the soldiers going
into some engagement. There is the feeling of nervousness which they
suffer from till the stern work begins, and then--well, they act as
brave men do act."
"Even if they are generals in the great fight with disease and death,"
said Frank gravely. "I wish I could feel as sure of our ultimate
success as I do of your being perfectly calm and self-contained in all
you do."
"I should be, my dear boy," said the doctor, "if I could only get rid of
the feeling that I shall be an impostor."
Frank laughed pleasantly.
"That feeling troubling you again?" he said. "How absurd! Are you
going to cheat the poor creatures you attend with sham medicines?"
"Am I going to do what?" said the doctor indignantly.
"And play tricks with the wounds they are suffering from?"
"My dear Frank!"
"And make believe to extract bullets and sew up wounds, or set broken
bones?"
"My good lad, are you talking in your sleep? Did I ever do anything but
my very best for the poor creatures to whom my poor skill was
necessary--did I ever give less attention to the humblest patient than I
do to the wealthiest or highest in position?"
"Never," said Frank warmly. "That big, generous disposition of yours
would never have allowed it."
"Then why did you talk in so absurd a strain?" Frank laughed merrily,
and for the time being he was the schoolboy again.
"Please, sir," he said mockingly, "it wasn't me. Answer me first," he
cried. "Why do you talk about feeling like an impostor? Why,"
continued the young man warmly, "I feel as if through my plan I am going
to heap blessings upon mine enemy's head. I am taking you through this
country, amongst these cruelly savage people, to do nothing but good.
Wherever you go your name will be blessed; they will think of the Great
Hakim as long as they live."
"Look here, young man," said the doctor playfully, "I've made a mistake
to-night. You began to play your part very nicely, and you were as
quiet as a dumb waiter--that old black mahogany one in the dining-room
at home. Then for company's sake I stopped you, and here is the
consequence. You took advantage of the liberty given you, and at once
developed into a base flatterer, putting your adulation into all the
flowery language you could muster. Now, no more of it, if you please.
There, to speak soberly and well: Frank, lad, I am not the great,
learned Hakim of your young imagination, but the hard-working student
who tries his best to acquire more and more knowledge of our fallen
human nature so as to fight against death like an earnest man. I know
something of my profession, and I work hard, and always shall, to know
more, so as to apply my skill in the best way. Please God, I hope to do
a great deal of good during this our journey, and I promise you that I
will think only of this application of my knowledge. Yes, I feel now
that I can go on and face all that I have to do, for I shall not be such
a sorry impostor, after all."
"Isn't it my turn now for a chat?" said the professor. "You two seem to
be having a most interesting discussion, and it's very dull back here.
The Sheikh is fast asleep on his camel, and poor Sam has become
speechless with misery, in spite of all I could say to him about
mastering the art of camel-riding. He says he can't get over the
feeling that he is at sea. How are you two getting on?"
"Better, I suppose," said the doctor, "for I have not thought so much of
the motion lately. I suppose I'm getting used to it."
"And you, Frank?"
"I had forgotten it too till you spoke. But I am utterly tired out.
How long will it be before we get to the tents?"
"Oh, hours yet," said the professor cheerfully.
"What!" cried the doctor and Frank in a breath.
"Not till well on in the morning," said the professor; and then, as his
companions turned to gaze at one another in dismay, "but we're going to
halt soon, to rest the camels and--ourselves."