“Of course,” said the professor. “I was going to propose that I should sit up with him.”
“Thanks, my dear Fred,” said the doctor gravely; “but I have already made my plans. We will take three hours each. Which watch will you have?”
“The first,” said the professor.
“Best so. Watch by him till midnight; then wake up Samuel, and he shall call me at three.”
The Hakim was master of the position, and everything was carried out as he proposed, the doctor coming on duty to receive the same report as the professor had given to Sam, to wit, that the patient had not stirred.
It was about six, and the doctor was congratulating himself upon the long, restful night his patient had enjoyed, when the face of the old Sheikh appeared at the open window, to which the doctor stepped softly and satisfied the old man as to the sick one’s state.
Ibrahim nodded his satisfaction, and set to work at once upon Sam’s duties, preparing the morning meal quite as a matter of course, but receiving orders to hurry nothing, so that no one should be disturbed.
“The young Excellency will be better soon?” whispered the old man.
“If we could give him good tidings to-day, Ibrahim, he would be nearly well,” replied the doctor. “Have you anything to tell?”
“Nothing, Excellency, only that the city is full of dervishes, and the wretched people are lamenting that they have not fled to the north. They pray that the Egyptian army may soon be here. One said last night, ‘If the Khedive’s people do not soon come they will find none of us left. These our masters will either slay or carry us away for slaves.’”