"Our country was slow to move, but at last it has done its duty well.
Mine was a bitter time of waiting, but it is as nothing now, for I have
been here to see."
He turned and looked up quickly, for there was a sharp fluttering sound
as of wings.
"The British flag!" he said, with a look of pride lighting up his deeply
bronzed face. "There, Frank, lad, our work is done, and the way is
open. Now for rest--for the home I never hoped to see again."
A low murmur of admiration ran along the ranks of the British soldiers,
officers and men, as the brothers walked slowly back to where a group
was standing, one of whom was a good-looking, sun-browned Hakim in snowy
turban and flowing robes, attended by a swarthy man in a _fez_--a man in
white garb with a very English face, and just behind him a venerable
Sheikh. For all who were present now had learned the facts, and as the
brothers passed, one of the officers of the Sirdar's guard exclaimed--
"By George! and yet there are people who say we have no heroes now!"