When he returned later on, he said that his courage had failed him at the last moment. He had quite made up his mind to act on my suggestion, but he was afraid that Ali Khan or Haroun might know the symptoms of small-pox, and so find him out. He thought, however, that by judicious questioning he might discover what the two chiefs knew of the disease, and if he found that they knew nothing, then, the next day, he would settle with his conscience whether humanity or honesty should have the first place.
"The unfortunate man," said Edwards, "has dysentery, and is as weak as a cat. I have done this much for him: I went to Haroun and told him, without mentioning what was actually the matter, that the prisoner was very ill, and unless properly attended to might die at any moment. I pointed out that if he remained in that prison-hole he would certainly be dead before morning. Haroun, at first, went off on the old fate tack, and said he could not interfere; but when I told him that I would go and interview the Governor, he gave me leave to do what I thought best about the man. Well, the long and the short of it is that, if you do not mind, I am going to give the invalid a shakedown for the night in our tent."
"Of course I do not mind," said I.
"I thought you would not," said Edwards, "and I arranged with Haroun that, as soon as it was dark, he should come and help us bring the man over here. The only condition he made was that I would be responsible that he was handed over, dead or alive, in the morning, before we march."
Great was the astonishment of the Shammar when we took him out of his hole, and conveyed him to our tent; and when Edwards explained to him that he was to remain with us for the night, so that he might be looked after, he almost wept with gratitude. He willingly promised that he would not betray our trust in him by attempting to escape, and he swore that, if he ever recovered his health and freedom, he would find a means of repaying us for our kindness.
Little did we imagine that we were entertaining unawares, if not actually an angel, a man who, before long, would influence our every action.
CHAPTER XVI.
RESCUE.
So ill was the unfortunate prisoner, that Edwards insisted that during the next day's march he should ride unfettered and in comparative comfort on a camel. He stood the journey well, and on reaching camp he was no worse than he had been at starting in the morning. Again he was consigned to our care and accommodated in our tent.