In the Mahdi's Grasp

by George Manville Fenn

At first he lay quiet and sullen, submitting to all that was done for him, watching the Hakim with what appeared to be a suspicious dread, for his mind did not seem to grasp the possibility of this Frankish physician wishing to save his life. He scowled, too, at the professor, and at first gave the dumb, black slave Frank fierce looks whenever in his ministrations he approached and touched him. But during the course of the second week, as his strength began to return, he appeared more grateful, and once or twice smiled and nodded after being lifted or fed, or having his position changed.

One day when the Sheikh came to the tent the patient began to speak, and asked him questions about the Hakim—why he was there, and what payment he would require for all he had done; and looked surprised when told that the learned Frankish physician did everything for the sake of doing good.

It was a problem that lasted him till the next day, when he signed for something, and the professor found that they could make one another comprehend after a fashion, enough for the Englishman to grasp that the wounded man wanted Ibrahim, who was summoned.

It was for a mere trifle. He wanted to question him about Frank—how he came to be the Hakim’s slave, and why he could not speak, the old Arab making up the best explanation he could over the first, and referring to the professor for an explanation as to the latter, the young chief being evidently under the impression, and bluntly expressing the belief, that the Hakim had cut out the young slave’s tongue so that he should not reveal any of the secrets of the magic by whose means he performed his cures.

There being visible proof afforded, to Frank’s disgust, that the Hakim had not treated his slave in this barbarous way, the young chief felt certain that the silence was the result of some magic spell, and he began to display a certain amount of pity for the young man, and lay and watched him curiously.

From that day Frank found that he was an object of interest to the young chief, who noted every movement with a sort of pitying contempt, while at the same time, in spite of the result of the Hakim’s ministrations, he displayed an unconcealed dislike for him that was manifested in morose looks and more than one angry scowl.

This was talked over when the friends were alone, and the doctor smiled.

“It does not matter,” he said. “I shall not be jealous, Frank. It is all plain enough to read. The poor fellow is weak as a child mentally as well as bodily, and I expect that as soon as he gets better he will be offering you your freedom from the cruel slavery to which you have been reduced.”

“Yes, that’s it,” said the professor, laughing; “but don’t you listen to the voice of the charmer, my boy. There is an old proverb about jumping out of the frying-pan into the fire.”

“It may all work for good,” said the doctor, “and there is no harm in making a friend; but it is of no use to try and foresee what will happen. A sick man’s fancies are very evanescent. Go on as you have done all through. One thing is very evident: he is mending fast, and can be moved when his father returns.”