In the Mahdi's Grasp

by George Manville Fenn

By this time the administering of the sedative was ended, the professor had withdrawn with the bottle and glass, and the Hakim once more took hold of the sufferer’s swarthy wrist, to remain counting the pulsations for many minutes, before laying the hand gently down and rising to stand, with folded arms, gazing at the stern, dark, immovable face.

“Waiting. How long will he wait?” thought Frank, and his mental question was being asked by the three Mullahs who still stood like so many statues.

Quite a quarter of an hour passed, and then the Hakim slowly turned his head and looked at the Sheikh, who bent his head to attention, and a thrill ran through Frank as he heard that all his anxieties were certainly for the moment at an end, for the doctor said quietly, “Tell his Highness the Emir that his friend is in too dangerous a state to be left.”

The Sheikh interpreted the words, and received in reply the Emir’s words that the women of his household and the wounded man’s own wife would watch by his side all night.

“That is good, Ibrahim,” replied the Hakim, “but their time is not yet. Tell the Emir that I and my people will keep watch till it is safe to leave him.”

The Emir drew a deep breath indicative of his satisfaction as he heard the Hakim’s words, and then crossing to him he reverently took his hand, bent over it, and drew back, said a word or two to his son, who went to the three Mullahs and repeated his father’s message, with the result that they whispered together for a few moments and then raised their heads haughtily and stalked slowly out of the tent-like room.

The Emir then nodded shortly to his son, who, as he followed the Mullah’s example, turned out of his way to go close to Frank and pat his shoulder warmly, as if to commend him for all that had been done.

The next minute the Emir whispered again to Ibrahim, speaking earnestly, and bending reverently once more to the Hakim, he crossed to the curtain and passed behind it, the low sobbing of a woman being heard directly after. Then all was silent as the grave.

“Yes, Ibrahim, what is it?” said the doctor, for the Sheikh was waiting to speak.

“The Emir bids me say, O Hakim, that you will please consider his house your own, and order his servants to bring everything you desire. That he will have refreshing foods and drinks placed in the room through which we came, and divans and rugs are there for those who would rest. That three women of the household will be waiting all night with his friend’s wife in the room beyond the curtains there. That if you find the danger increases and his friend the Emir is about to die, you will send me to the women with the sad tidings, that he and they may come to the wounded man’s side. That he thanks, and prays for your success in bringing his friend back to life. That is all.”