Of course, of course," said the Professor in a new tone; "I came across
a Christmas letter from him the other day. But, my dear Adams, what
happened? I never heard."

"He went up the river to shoot crocodiles against my orders, when he was
about twelve years old--not very long after his mother's death, and some
wandering Mahdi tribesmen kidnapped him and sold him as a slave. I have
been looking for him ever since, for the poor boy was passed on from
tribe to tribe, among which his skill as a musician enabled me to follow
him. The Arabs call him the Singer of Egypt, because of his wonderful
voice, and it seems that he has learned to play upon their native
instruments."

"And now where is he?" asked Higgs, as one who feared the answer.

"He is, or was, a favourite slave among a barbarous, half-negroid people
called the Fung, who dwell in the far interior of North Central Africa.
After the fall of the Khalifa I followed him there; it took me several
years. Some Bedouin were making an expedition to trade with these Fung,
and I disguised myself as one of them.

"On a certain night we camped at the foot of a valley outside a great
wall which encloses the holy place where their idol is. I rode up to
this wall and, through the open gateway, heard some one with a beautiful
tenor voice singing in English. What he sang was a hymn that I had
taught my son. It begins:

'Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.'

"I knew the voice again. I dismounted and slipped through the gateway,
and presently came to an open space, where a young man sat singing upon
a sort of raised bench with lamps on either side of him, and a large
audience in front. I saw his face and, notwithstanding the turban which
he wore and his Eastern robe--yes, and the passage of all those years--I
knew it for that of my son. Some spirit of madness entered into me, and
I called aloud, 'Roderick, Roderick!' and he started up, staring about
him wildly. The audience started up also, and one of them caught sight
of me lurking in the shadow.

"With a howl of rage, for I had desecrated their sanctuary, they sprang
at me. To save my life, coward that I was, I fled back through the
gates. Yes, after all those years of seeking, still I fled rather than
die, and though I was wounded with a spear and stones, managed to reach
and spring upon my horse. Then, as I was headed off from our camp,
I galloped away anywhere, still to save my miserable life from those
savages, so st