“No, Excellency, and I have tried hard. No one really does know except the chief. Some say we are going to Omdurman, while others say for certain that we shall make a sweep round into the desert and then aim for Khartoum. While others—”
“Opinions are various,” said the professor drily. “Tot homines—tot sententiae, which being interpreted, my dear Frank, you being a lad who always hated your Latin accidence, means, some think a tot of one thing is good; some think a tot of another is better. Well, Ibrahim, what does the other set think?”
“That the chief is going straight to Omdurman before passing on to Khartoum to dispose of his plunder.”
“Then let’s hope the last are right, and then we shall have the chance of searching two places. There, cheer up, Frank, and try and think of nothing else but our own important mission.”
“Of course,” said the doctor. “We did not come for the purpose of punishing these predatory hordes.”
“No,” said Frank sadly; “I know. But have a little compassion upon me, and forgive my irritable ways. Look at me,” he said, holding out his blackened hands, and then pointing with them to his face. “Can’t you think how great an effort it is to keep up this miserable masquerade—what agony it is to go about feeling that at any moment I may forget myself when in the presence of our masters, and speak?”
“Yes, yes, I know, Frank, my dear boy,” replied the professor; “and whenever I think of it I begin to wonder. I used to be in a constant state of fidget. ‘He’ll let the cat out of the bag as sure as eggs are eggs,’ I used to say to myself; and then I lay awake at night and tried to think out the best way of helping you till the idea came, and it has acted beautifully.”
“What idea?” said the doctor sternly. “You never mentioned any idea to me.”
“Of course not; that would have spoiled the charm. Even Frank does not know.”
“Then it’s all nonsense,” said the doctor.