said the professor, hesitating.

"Has he a brother in chains and misery whom he would die to save?"

"H'm, no," said the professor again. "Frank, lad," he said, in Latin,
"I'm afraid Sam will not pass."

"What will he do, then?" asked the Sheikh.

"Attend on his master, the Hakim."

"One of my young men can do that."

"Hold the wounded when the Hakim bandages their cuts."

"One of my young men would be safer far."

"He knows the Hakim's ways, and will sponge the bullet-wounds and fetch
the water bowl."

"The Hakim's black slave should do all that, Excellency."

"I'm afraid you are right," said the professor; "but I want to take him
if we can. Come, he is a capital cook."

"A learned Hakim like his Excellency here would live on simple food,
such as one of my young men could prepare."

"Well, I don't know what to say, Ibrahim. He is a very useful fellow."

"But his being with us might mean making the Mahdi's followers doubt,
and once they doubted it means death to us all."

The professor's face was a study as he turned to Frank.

"He's right, my lad; he's right."

"It may mean ruin to our journey, even as men perish when they make for
a water-hole, to find it dry. Can he do anything else?"

"Heaps of things," cried the professor.

"But they are as nothing if they are not suited to our task, Excellency.
Does he look to be an Englishman?"

"A thorough-paced Cockney, Ibrahim, I am sorry to say."

"Cockney, Excellency?"

"Well, very English indeed."

"Would he be painted black, Excellency?" said Ibrahim.

"He'd only look like an imitation Christy Minstrel if he were, eh,
Frank?" said the professor.

"Would he have his head shaved like his Excellency the Hakim?" said the
Sheikh.

"Got him!" cried the professor excitedly. "Here, Ibrahim, you wanted to
know what he can do. He's the Hakim's barber, and can shave a head."

"Ah-h-h-h!" said the Sheikh, drawing out the ejaculation to an
inordinate length. "He can shave--and well?"

"Splendidly! Can't he, Morris?"

"Oh, yes, excellently well," said the doctor, smiling.

The Sheikh took off his turban and softly passed one hand over a head
which was like a very old, deeply-stained billiard ball at the top, but
was stubbly at the back and sides, as if it had not been touched by a
barber for a week.

"May he shave me, Excellency?" said the old man. "I should like to see
the man and whether he is skilful enough to deceive those who will watc