"We came in yesterday, and I hear that we shall start tomorrow, but I know not whether that is so."
"Are there any Dervishes about?"
"Yes; forty of them yesterday afternoon, coming from Gedareh, and ignorant that we were here, rode in among our outposts on that hill to the west. Three of them were killed, and three made prisoners. The rest rode away."
With a word of thanks, Gregory rode on. He dismounted when he reached the village, and was directed to a neighbouring hut. Here Colonel Parsons and the six white officers with him were assembled. A native soldier was on sentry, at the door.
"I want to speak to Parsons Bey."
The Colonel, hearing the words, came to the door.
"Colonel Parsons," Gregory said in English, "I am Major Hilliard of the Egyptian Army, and have the honour to be the bearer of a message to you, from General Rundle, now in command at Omdurman."
"You are well disguised, indeed, sir," the Colonel said with a smile, as he held out his hand. "I should never have taken you for anything but a native. Where did you spring from? You can never have ridden, much less walked, across the desert from Omdurman?"
"No, sir. I was landed from one of the gunboats in which General Hunter, with fifteen hundred Soudanese troops, is ascending the Blue Nile, to prevent Fadil from crossing and joining the Khalifa."
"Have you a written despatch?"