Chapter Thirty One.
A Ride for Life.
“No, my lad,” said the Hakim, as the position was discussed, for the twentieth time perhaps; “it is horrible, but we have the choice of being friends with these people or their foes. As friends they treat us admirably; as foes it means cruel slavery.”
“And perhaps death,” said the professor. “You must bear it, Frank, though I know it is hard.”
“It is terrible,” said Frank bitterly, “for I have hard work to conceal my dislike to this man.”
“But it has brought about what we so earnestly prayed for,” said the doctor. “You have won for yourself the permission to go almost wherever you wish.”
“Yes,” said Frank bitterly; “but I get no farther, and I am once more beginning to feel that we have come to the wrong place. We must go to Khartoum.”
“Ibrahim has, I know, worked hard for us; but he gets no tidings,” said the doctor.
“None,” said the professor; “but still we must not give up hope. We shall have to petition the Emir after all. How long will it be before your patient can be left, Robert, my son? Let’s see, it is nearly a month since you performed the operation.”
“Four weeks to-morrow,” replied the doctor; “and he is rapidly getting strong.”