For how should his brother know him? He was a mere youth when they parted at Southampton, when he saw him last upon the troop-ship—a boy who had just finished school—and what was Harry looking at now? The companion of a Baggara Emir, a black slave, dressed in white, armed with sword and dagger, and mounted upon a splendid Arab horse. One of the pair who had been pursued by the wild dervish band which was committing so many fresh excesses in the city, and looking no better in his wild costume, and grasping a keen-edged sword, than one of them.
Another giddy sensation came over Frank Frere, and he gasped for breath, as with his left hand he snatched at his horse’s mane and so accidentally jerked the rein that the horse reared and he nearly fell.
The demand upon him for action, though, sent a shock through his nerves, and gripping his saddle firmly he sat erect and patted and calmed down his startled mount, the young Emir pressing up to him and nodding and smiling as much as to say, “Well done! you ride like a Baggara.”
Frank was himself again, and as soon as he could rein back a little, for his comrade had come between him and the vision, he looked wildly once more at the spot where he had seen, or believed he had seen, his brother; but the camel had been led away, and its attendant was no longer there.
Was it imagination, or was it not? He felt sick with emotion, and he could hardly restrain himself from leaping off his horse to go in search of leader and camel that he might speak and learn the truth at once; but at that moment the young Emir grasped him by the arm, their horses sidled up together, and he was no longer his own master, yielding at once to the touch and being led away out of the open court, while when he wrenched himself round in the saddle to get one wildly eager look back his view was cut off by a party of some thirty horsemen whose spears glittered in the late afternoon sun as they followed close behind. For the young Emir had been furnished with a bodyguard by his friend, and though Frank turned again and again there was not another chance.
They rode on for a few hundred yards with the young Emir talking loudly and volubly, his theme evidently being their adventures, and quite content with a nod from time to time. For he was in high glee at his success, and the looks, smiles, and pats on the shoulder he gave to his companion from time to time plainly told he was proud of his gallantry that day.
Then in an instant all was excitement again, for at a turn they came once more in sight of a party of the dervishes, evidently those they had met before, and all ready to encounter them with scowling looks.
It showed the necessity for the escort, and the young Emir laughed, for no attempt to hinder them was made; but the party followed slowly as if to see where they went, and when at last the escort was dismissed and the two young men rode through the gates, received by their own guards, the dervishes were still in sight; but they at once turned and rode away, for the escort was advancing upon them and seemed as if it drove them back the way they came.