CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
IN WHICH HOPES AND FEARS RISE AND FALL.
"There is a tide in the affairs of men," undoubtedly, and the tide inthe affairs of Miles Milton and his comrades appeared to have reachedlow-water at this time, for, on the day mentioned in the last chapter,it began to turn, and continued for a considerable time to rise.
The first clear evidence of the change was the "blow-out" of beans andoil, coupled with the change of prison. The next was the suddenappearance of the beans-and-oil-man himself.
"Why, I do believe--it's--it's Moses," exclaimed Molloy, as his oldcomrade entered the prison. "Give us your flipper. Man alive! but I'mright glad to see you. We thought you was--let's have a look at yourneck. No; nothing there. I knowed as that interpreter was a liar. Butwhat brings you _here_, lad? What mischief have 'ee bin up to?"
"That's what puzzles myself, Jack," said Moses, shaking hands warmlywith Miles. "I've done nothing that I know of except sell beans andoil. It's true I burned 'em sometimes a bit, but they'd hardly put afellow in jail for that--would they? However, I'm glad they've done it,whatever the reason, seeing that it has brought us three together again.But, I say," continued Moses, while a look of anxiety came over hisinnocent face, "what can have become of our other comrades?"
"You may well ask that, lad. I've asked the same question of myself formany a day, but have never bin able to get from myself a satisfactoryanswer. I'm wery much afeared that we'll never see 'em again."
It seemed almost to be a spring-tide in the affairs of the trio at thattime, for while the seaman was speaking--as if to rebuke his want offaith--the door opened and their comrade Armstrong walked in.
For a few moments they were all rendered speechless! Then Miles sprangup, seized his friend by both shoulders, and gazed into his face; it wasa very thin and careworn face at that time, as if much of the bloom ofyouth had been wiped from it for ever.
"Willie! Am I dreaming?" exclaimed Miles.
"If you are, so must I be," replied his friend, "for when I saw you lastyou had not taken to half-nakedness as a costume!"
"Come now," retorted Miles, "you have not much to boast of in that wayyourself."
"There you are wrong, Miles, for I have to boast that I made my garmentmyself. True, it's only a sack, but I cut the hole in the bottom of itfor my head with my own hand, and stitched on the short sleeves with apacking-needle. But, I say, what's been the matter with Molloy? Havethey been working you too hard, Jack?"
"No, Willum, no, I can't exactly say that, but they've bin hangin' metoo hard. I'll tell 'ee all about it in coorse o' time. Man alive! butthey _have_ took the flesh off your bones somehow; let's see--no, yourneck's all right. Must have bin some other way."
"The way was simple enough," returned the other. "When they separatedus all at first, they set me to the hardest work they could find--todig, draw water, carry burdens that a horse might object to, sweep, andclean up; in fact, everything and anything, and they've kep' us hard atit ever since. I say _us_, because Rattlin' Bill Simkin was set to helpme after the first day, an' we've worked all along together. PoorSimkin, there ain't much rattle in him now, except his bones. I don'tknow why they sent me here and not him. And I can't well make outwhether I'm sent here for extra punishment or as a favour!"
"Have you seen or heard anything of Stevenson?" asked Moses.
"I saw him once, about a week ago, staggering under a great log--whetherin connection with house-builders or not I can't tell. It was only fora minute, and I got a tremendous cut across the back with a cane formerely trying to attract his attention."
The tide, it will be seen, had been rising pretty fast that afternoon.It may be said to have come in with a rush, when, towards evening, thedoor of their prison once more opened and Simkin with Stevenson wereushered in together, both clothed alike in an extemporised sack-garmentand short drawers, with this difference, that the one wore a species offelt hat, the other a fez.
They were still in the midst of delighted surprise at the turn eventsseemed to be taking, when two men entered bearing trays, on which weresix smoking bowls of beans and oil!
"Hallo! Moses, your business follows you even to prison," exclaimedMolloy.
"True, Jack, and I'll follow my business up!" returned Moses, sittingdown on the ground, which formed their convenient table, and going towork.
We need scarcely say that his comrades were not slow to follow hisexample.
The tide may be said to have reached at least half-flood, if not more,when, on the following morning, the captives were brought out and toldby the interpreter that they were to accompany a body of troops whichwere about to quit the place under the command of Mohammed, the Mahdi'scousin.
"Does the Mahdi accompany us?" Miles ventured to ask.
"No. The Mahdi has gone to Khartoum," returned the interpreter, whothen walked away as if he objected to be further questioned.
The hopes which had been recently raised in the breasts of the captivesto a rather high pitch were, however, somewhat reduced when they foundthat their supposed friend Mohammed treated them with cool indifference,did not even recognise them, and the disappointment was deepened stillmore when all of them, except Miles, were loaded with heavy burdens, andmade to march among the baggage-animals as if they were mere beasts ofburden. The savage warriors also treated them with great rudeness andcontempt.
Miles soon found that he was destined to fill his old post of runner infront of Mohammed, his new master. This seemed to him unaccountable,for runners, he understood, were required only in towns and cities, noton a march. But the hardships attendant on the post, and theindignities to which he was subjected, at last convinced him that theMahdi must have set the mind of his kinsman against him, and that he wasnow undergoing extra punishment as well as unique degradation.
The force that took the field on this occasion was a very considerableone--with what precise object in view was of course unknown to allexcept its chiefs, but the fact that it marched towards the frontiers ofEgypt left no doubt in the mind of any one. It was a wild barbarichost, badly armed and worse drilled, but fired with a hatred of allEuropeans and a burning sense of wrong.
"What think ye now, Miles?" asked Armstrong, as the captives sat groupedtogether in the midst of the host on the first night of their campingout in the desert.
"I think that everything seems to be going wrong," answered Miles, in adesponding tone. "At first I thought that Mohammed was our friend, buthe has treated me so badly that I can think so no longer."
"Don't you think he may be doing that to blind his followers as to hisfriendship?" said Moses; "for myself, I can't help thinkin' he must begrateful for what you did, Miles."
"I only wish you had not touched my rifle that day," said Rattling Bill,fiercely--being fatigued and out of temper--"for the blackguard wouldhave bin in `Kingdom come' by this time. There's _no_ gratitude in anArab. I have no hope at all now."
"My hope is in God," said Stevenson.
"Well, mate, common-sense tells me that that _should_ be our best groundof hope," observed Molloy; "but common experience tells me that theAlmighty often lets His own people come to grief."
"God _never_ lets 'em come to grief in the sense that you mean,"returned the marine. "If He kills His people, He takes them away fromthe evil to come, and death is but a door-way into glory. If he sendsgrief and suffering, it is that they may at last reach a higher state ofjoy."
"Pooh! according to that view, _nothing_ can go wrong with them that youcall His people," said Simkin, with contempt.
"Right you are, comrade," rejoined Stevenson; "_nothing_ can go wrongwith us; _nothing_ can separate us from the love of God which is inChrist Jesus our lord; and _you_ may be one of `_us_' this minute if youwill accept God's offer of free salvation in Christ."
Silence followed, for Simkin was too angry, as well as worn out, to givehis mind seriously to anything at that time, and the others were more orless uncertain, as to the truth
of what was advanced.
Sleep, profound and dreamless, soon banished these and all othersubjects from their minds. Blessed sleep! so aptly as well asbeautifully styled, "Tired Nature's sweet restorer." That great host ofdusky warriors--some unquestionably devout, many cruel and relentless,not a few, probably, indifferent to everything except self, and all benton the extermination of their white-skinned foes,--lay down beside theirweapons, and shared in that rest which is sent alike to the just and tothe unjust, through the grand impartiality, forbearance, and love of aGod whom many people apparently believe to be a "respecter of persons!"
A few days later the little army came to the edge of a range of hills,beyond which lay the plains of the vast Nubian desert. At night theyencamped at the base of the hill-country, through which they had beentravelling, and the captives were directed to take up their position infront of an old ruined hut, where masses of broken stones and rubbishmade the ground unsuitable for camping on.
"Just like them!" growled Simkin, looking about for a fairly level spot."There's not a place big enough for a dog to lie on!"
Supper made Rattling Bill a little more amiable, though not much moreforgiving to his foes. A three-quarters moon soon afterwards shed afaint light on the host, which, except the sentries, was sound asleep.
Towards midnight a solitary figure moved slowly towards the place wherethe captives lay and awakened Miles, who sat up, stared, winked, andrubbed his eyes two or three times before he could bring himself tobelieve that his visitor was no other than the chief of the host--Mohammed!
"Rise. Com. I speak small Engleesh."
Miles rose at once and followed the chief into the ruined hut.
"Clear de ground," he said, pointing to the centre of the floor.
Our hero obeyed, and, when the loose rubbish was cleared away, themoonbeams, shining through the ruined roof, fell on a ring bolt. Beingordered to pull it, he raised a cover or trap-door, and discoveredbeneath what appeared to be a cellar.
"Now," said Mohammed, "listen: you an' friends go down--all. I shutdoor and cover up--rubsh. When we all go 'way, com out and go home.See, yonder is _home_."
He pointed to the north-eastward, where a glowing star seemed to hangover the margin of the great level desert.
"You are generous--you are kind!" exclaimed Miles, with a burst ofenthusiasm.
"Me grateful," said Mohammed, extending his hand in European fashion,which Miles grasped warmly. "Go, wake you comerads. Tell what me say,and com quick!"
Miles was much too well-disciplined a soldier to hesitate, though hewould have liked much to suggest that some of the troops might, beforestarting, take a fancy to explore the ruin, and to ask how long theyshould remain in the cellar before venturing out. Quietly awaking allhis comrades, and drawing their surprised heads together, he whisperedhis tale in their wondering ears. After that they were quite preparedto act, and accompanied him noiselessly into the ruin.
"Is the cellar deep?" asked Miles, as he was about to descend.
"No; not deep."
"But what about grub--whittles, meat, an' water--you know," said Molloy,with difficulty accommodating his words to a foreigner. "We'll starveif we go adrift on the desert with nothin' to eat or drink."
"Here--food," said Mohammed, unslinging a well-filled haversack from hisshoulders and transferring it to those of the sailor. "Stop there," hecontinued, pointing to the cellar, "till you hears guns--shoot--noise.I have make prep'rations! After that, silence. Then, com out, an' go_home_." Once again he pointed towards the glowing star in thenorth-east.
"Mohammed," exclaimed Molloy, becoming suddenly impressed with thegenerous nature of the Arab's action, "I don't know as you're adescendant o' the Prophet, but I do know that you're a brick. Give usyour flipper before we part!"
With a grave expression of kindliness and humour the chief shook handswith the seaman. Then the captives all descended into the hole, whichwas not more than four feet deep, after which the Arab shut the trap,covered it as before with a little rubbish, and went away.
"Suppose he has bolted the door!" suggested Moses.
"Hold your tongue, man, and listen for the signal," said Miles.
"I forget what he said the signal was to be," observed Simkin.
"Guns--shoot--noise--after that silence!" said Armstrong. "It's a queersignal."
"But not difficult to recognise when we hear it," remarked Miles.
The time seemed tremendously long as they sat there listening--thecellar was too low for them to stand--and they began to fancy that allkinds of horrible shapes and faces appeared in the intense darknessaround them. When they listened intensely, kept silent, and held theirbreath, their hearts took to beating the drums of their ears, and when asudden breath or sigh escaped it seemed as if some African monster wereapproaching from the surrounding gloom.
"Is that you, Simkin, that's breathin' like a grampus?" asked Molloy,after a long pause.
"I was just goin' to ask you to stop snorin'," retorted the soldier.
"Hush! There's a shot!"
It was indeed a distant shot, followed immediately by several more.Then a rattle of musketry followed--nearer at hand.
Instantly, as if the earth had just given birth to them, the host ofdusky warriors sprang up with yells of surprise and defiance, and, spearin hand, rushed in the direction of the firing. For a few minutes thelisteners in the cellar heard as it had been a mighty torrent surgingpast the ruined hut. Gradually the force of the rush began to abate,while the yells and firing became more distant; at last all soundsceased, and the listeners were again oppressed by the beating on thedrums of their ears.
"They're all gone--every mother's son," said Molloy at last, breakingthe oppressive silence.
"That's so," said Rattling Bill; "up wi' the trap, Miles. You're underit, ain't you? I'm suffocating in this hole."
"I'm not under it. Molloy came down last," said Miles.
"What if we can't find it?" suggested Stevenson.
"Horrible!" said Moses, in a hoarse whisper, "and this may be a hugecavern, with miles of space around us, instead of a small cellar!"
"Here it is!" cried the sailor, making a heave with his broad back. "Isay--it won't move! Ah, I wasn't rightly under it. Yo! heave-o!" Upwent the door with a crash, and the soft moonlight streamed in uponthem.
A few seconds more and they stood outside the hut--apparently the onlyliving beings in all that region, which had been so full of human lifebut a few minutes before.
"Now we must lose no time in getting away from this place, and coveringas much of the desert as we can during the night," said Miles, "for itstrikes me that we'll have to lie quiet during the day, for fear ofbeing seen and chased."
They spoke together in whispers for a few minutes, deciding the coursethey meant to pursue. Then Molloy shouldered the provision bag, Milesgrasped his official lance--the only weapon they had among them,--andoff they set on their journey across the desert, like a ship entering onan unknown sea, without the smallest idea of how far they were from thefrontier of Egypt, and but a vague notion of the direction in which theyought to go.
Blue Lights: Hot Work in the Soudan Page 27
