“Would you mind going as a slave, Sam?” asked Frank—“the Hakim’s slave?”
“Not a bit, sir, so long as Mr Hakim’s going to be one of the party. Me mind being a slave? Not I. Ain’t Mr Harry one pro tempenny? I’m willing, sir, willing for anything. I don’t want no wages. I want to go.”
“And you shall go, Samuel,” said the doctor firmly. “I’ll talk the matter over with Mr Landon.”
“Thankye, sir, thankye,” cried the man joyfully. “And I beg your pardon, Mr Landon, sir; don’t you take against me because it’s going against you. I’m willing to do any manner of things to make you gentlemen comfortable all the time.”
“I believe you, Sam,” said the professor. “There, I give way.”
“Thankye kindly, sir!” cried the man excitedly.
“But look here. It is only due to him that he should be told that we are going upon a very dangerous expedition. We shall have to travel amongst people who would think it a meritorious action to cut our throats if they had the merest suspicion that we were going to try and rescue Mr Harry Frere. Then we shall have the risks of fever, dying from thirst, perhaps from hunger, and as likely as not being taken prisoners ourselves and made slaves—are you listening, Sam?”
“Hearing every word, sir. But I say, sir, is it as bad as that?”
“Honestly, my man,” said the professor solemnly; “it is all that and worse, because we shall have to cut ourselves adrift from all Government protection and trust to our own wits. Now then, my man, do not hesitate for an instant—if you feel that you cannot cheerfully put up with peril and danger, and dare every risk, say so at once, for you will be doing your master a good turn as well as us.”
“Are you gentlemen going to chance it all?” said Sam quietly.