"I agree with you and Mahmud, and wish that it had been otherwise, and that we could hurl ourselves at once upon the Egyptians and prevent their coming farther--but that would be but a partial success. If we wait, they will gather all their forces before they come, and we shall destroy them at one blow. Then we shall seize all their stores and animals, cross the desert to Dongola, march forward to Assouan, and there wait till the Khalifa brings his own army; and then who is to oppose us? We will conquer the land of the infidel. I am as eager for the day of battle as you are, but it seems to me that it is best to wait here, until the infidels come; and I feel that it is wise of the Khalifa thus to order. Now I will to my tent."
As soon as Ibrahim Khalim had entered his tent, Gregory crawled away, well satisfied that he had gained exactly the information he had come to gather. He had gone but a few paces when he saw a white figure striding along, in front of the tents. He stopped, and threw himself down.
Unfortunately, the path taken by the sheik was directly towards him. He heard the footsteps advancing, in hopes that the man would pass either in front or behind him. Then he felt a sudden kick, an exclamation, and a heavy fall. He leapt to his feet, but the Arab sheik was as quick and, springing up, also seized him, at the same time drawing his knife and uttering a loud shout.
Gregory grasped the Arab's wrist, and without hesitation snatched his own knife from the sash, and drove it deep into his assailant's body. The latter uttered another loud cry for help, and a score of men rushed from behind the tents.
Gregory set off at the top of his speed, dashed over the brow of the bridge, and then, without entering the camp there, he kept along close to the crest, running at the top of his speed and wrapping his blanket as much as possible round him. He heard an outburst of yells behind, and felt sure that the sheik he had wounded had told those who had rushed up which way he had fled. With loud shouts they poured over the crest, and there were joined by others running up from the camp.
When Gregory paused for a moment, after running for three or four hundred yards, he could hear no sound of footsteps behind him. Glancing round, he could not see white dresses in the darkness. Turning sharply off, he recrossed the crest of the hill and, keeping close to it, continued his flight until well past the end of the camp.
The alarm had by this time spread everywhere, and a wild medley of shouts rose throughout the whole area of the encampment. He turned now, and made for the spot where he had left Zaki and the horses. In five minutes he reached it.
"Is that you, my lord?" Zaki asked, as he came up.