All these thoughts and pictures flew like a whirlwind through Stas' brain. He felt that what was to happen after a few minutes was at the same time horrible and imperative. The pride of a conqueror surged in his breast with a feeling of aversion for the dreadful deed. There was a moment when he hesitated, but he recalled the tortures which the white prisoners endured; he recalled his father, Mr. Rawlinson, Nell, also Gebhr, who struck the little girl with a courbash, and hatred burst out in him with renewed force. "It is necessary!" he said through his set teeth, and inflexible determination was reflected on his countenance, which became as if carved out of stone.
In the meantime Idris placed the gourd on a stone about a hundred paces distant and turned around. Stas saw his smiling face and his whole tall form upon the plain. For the last time the thought flashed through his mind that this living man would fall after a moment upon the ground, clutching the sand with his fingers in the last convulsions of the throes of death. But the hesitation of the boy ended, and when Idris sauntered fifty paces toward him, he began slowly to raise the weapon to his eye.
But before he touched the trigger with his finger, from beyond the dunes, about a few hundred paces distant, could be heard tumultuous cheers, and in the same minute about twenty riders on horses and camels debouched on the plain. Idris became petrified at the sight. Stas was amazed no less, but at once amazement gave way to insane joy. The expected pursuit at last! Yes! That could not be anything else. Evidently the Bedouins had been captured in a village and were showing where the rest of the caravan was concealed! Idris thought the same. When he collected himself he ran to Stas, with face ashen from terror, and, kneeling at his feet, began to repeat in a voice out of breath:
"Sir, I was kind to you! I was kind to the little 'bint'! Remember that!"
Stas mechanically extracted the cartridges from the barrels and gazed. The riders drove horses and camels at the fullest speed, shouting from joy and flinging upwards their long Arabian rifles, which they caught while in full gallop with extraordinary dexterity. In the bright transparent air they could be seen perfectly. In the middle, at the van, ran the two Bedouins waving their hands and burnooses as if possessed.
After a few minutes the whole band dashed to the caravan. Some of the riders leaped off the horses and camels; some remained on their saddles, yelling at the top of their voices. Amid these shouts only two words could be distinguished.
"Khartûm! Gordon! Gordon! Khartûm!"
Finally one of the Bedouins—the one whom his companion called
Abu-Anga—ran up to Idris cringing at Stas' feet, and began to exclaim:
"Khartûm is taken! Gordon is killed! The Mahdi is victorious!"
Idris stood erect but did not yet believe his ears.