The flattery pleased the Khalifa.
“Summon Osman Wad Adam and the man to me,” he said.
In the questioning that followed, Macnamara’s Arabic and his understanding of it was so bad that it was necessary for Slatin to ask him questions in English. This was a test of Macnamara, for Slatin said some things in English which were not for the Khalifa’s knowing. If Macnamara’s face changed, if he started, Abdullah’s suspicions, ever ready, would have taken form.
But Macnamara’s wits were not wool-gathering, and when Slatin said to him, “If I escape, I will try to arrange yours,” Macnamara replied, with a respectful but placid stolidity: “Right, sir. Where does the old sinner keep his spoof?”
It was now for Slatin to keep a hold on himself, for Macnamara’s reply was unexpected. Ruling his face to composure, however, he turned to the Khalifa and said that up to this moment Macnamara had not been willing to become a Mahommedan, but his veneration for the Mahdi’s successor was so great that he would embrace the true faith by the mercy of God and the permission of the Khalifa. When the Khalifa replied that he would accept the convert into the true faith at once, Slatin then said to Macnamara:
“Come now, my man, I’ve promised that you will become a Mahommedan—it’s your best chance of safety.”
“I’ll see him on the devil’s pitchfork first,” said Macnamara; but he did not change countenance. “I’m a Protestant and I’ll stand be me baptism.”
“You’ll lose your head, man,” answered Slatin. “Don’t be a fool.”
“I’m keepin’ to what me godfathers and godmothers swore for me,” answered Macnamara stubbornly. “You must pretend for a while, or you’ll be dead in an hour—and myself too.”
“You—that’s a different nose on me face,” answered Macnamara. “But suppose I buck when I get into the mosque—no, begobs, I’ll not be doin’ it!”