brother should join us, and that then we would flee across the desert to
the British camp; but now--"

"Well, Ibrahim; but now?" said the doctor sternly.

"Now, O Hakim, another sorrow meets me here: the young Excellency, Ben
Eddin, is stricken down, and we have not rescued the prisoner slave as
yet."

"But you have some plans," said the professor excitedly. "What do you
propose to do?"

"Nothing as yet, Excellency. We must wait till the young Ben Eddin is
well and we can bring his brother here. Till then we must be patient,
and trust in God."

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

FOR FREEDOM.

The English party had ample proof of Ibrahim's words, for the narrow
ways of the city were thronged that day with the wild troops that had
ridden in from the desert, many too from Khartoum, and the wild blasts
and throbbings of barbaric trumpet and drum resounded through the place;
but the Emir's house remained undisturbed, though more than once the
professor noticed that there was an uneasy look in the eyes of the head
guard when he came near them, and appeared to be especially devoted to
the care of all in the place.

That day there were no calls upon the Hakim for help, and he was able to
devote himself entirely to Frank, upon whom his ministrations had the
best effect.

In fact, he woke that night as if out of a long sleep looked wonderingly
at Sam, and seemed puzzled by the bandages laid across his head. Then
as if realising that he had been ill, he lay perfectly still, thinking,
till the doctor came to his side a short time later, when he took and
pressed the hand which felt his pulse and head, nodded gently, and
proved at once that the fit of delirium had quite passed away, for he
said in a whisper--

"Don't say anything. I know I have been ill. But tell me: any news of
Harry?"

"Not yet, my dear boy. We must have patience."

"Yes, Frank, lad," said the professor cheerily, "patience."

Frank bowed his head softly and let his eyelids drop, lying perfectly
still for some little time.

"Drowsy, Frank?" said the doctor at last. But there was no reply. All
was silent but the distant sound of shouting and uproar, as if the
newcomers to the city were quarrelling with their friends.

The silence startled the professor, who looked from their new patient to
the doctor, and back again searchingly; but the latter paid no heed.

"Is this right?" he said at last, anxiously.

"Yes, perfectly right. What I have giv