“At last!” cried Harry. “Oh, but it has been long, long! This time they will not be too late.”
“It seemed last night that the great battle was to take place; but at dusk the Khalifa halted his army, thousands upon thousands; their white garments seemed to spread for three or four miles, and I felt that at last the great time had come.”
“Yes, yes?” cried Frank, and the old Sheikh’s voice sounded dull and strange now, overborne by the distant muttering thunder of the firing, which seemed to be on the increase.
“But I would not come back till I could be sure of the tidings I had to bring, and I lay out with my camel among the hills over yonder, till just at daybreak I could see that the dervish army was in motion, and I mounted my camel, keeping to the highest parts I could find. I made a circuit, after seeing the British and Egyptian forces far back by the river, and the dervishes in one long, white wave sweeping steadily along as if to lap round and drive their foes into the stream.”
“And that they will never do!” said Harry proudly.
“I don’t know, Excellency. The dervishes looked so many. Your friends seemed so few. But I had learned all I wanted, for I could see that the great fight was about to begin, and I came with the tidings. What will your Excellencies do?”
He looked at the doctor as he spoke, and the latter replied, “We can do nothing while we are here, Ibrahim. Our orders are to wait till our guard gives the word for us to start.”
“And then we hope to make for the desert if we can shake our guardians off,” said the professor.
The old Sheikh was silent, as if deep in thought.
“I know not how to advise,” he said. “If the English are beaten—”