ot even the haughty Baggara held their heads so high.

Especially admired were the artillery, battery following battery, in
perfect order. These were the guns that had carried death into the
ranks of the Dervishes, against whose fire even the fanatical bravery
of the followers of the Khalifa was unable to stand. When the march
past was concluded, there was scarce one of the prisoners who would not
gladly have enlisted.

On the following day, Gregory again went to the Praying Square. The man
he had the morning before seen, at once came up to him.

"I have enquired of many who were at El Obeid, my lord," he said. "All
say that there was no white man in the camp, when the black battalion
surrendered, though one had been seen while the fighting was going on.
Nor was the body of one found, where the fight had taken place on the
previous day. It was a matter of talk among the Dervishes, at the time;
for they had lain in a circle round the enemy, and were convinced that
no one passed through their lines. Those who surrendered said that he
had taken the command, and had exposed himself to the hottest fire, and
encouraged them; telling them that the more bravely they defended
themselves, the more likely they were to obtain favourable terms. The
night before, he had advised them to accept any offer the Dervishes
might make, but on the following morning he was missing, and none could
give any account of what had become of him. The same tale is told by
all to whom I have spoken."

The story made a profound impression upon Gregory. It seemed possible
that the father, of whom he had no remembrance, might have been the
sole white survivor of Hicks's army. True, there was nothing to prove
that he was the white man who had joined the black battalion that
escaped the first day's massacre. There were other non-combatants:
Vizitelly, the artist of the Illustrated London News, and O'Donovan,
the correspondent of the Daily News. Either of these might also have
been at any other portion of the square, when the attack commenced, and
unable to join Hicks and his officers, in their final charge into the
midst of the enemy.

Still, it was at least possible that his father was the man who had
retired from the field, with the black battalion; and who had,
afterwards, so strangely disappeared. If so, what had become of him,
all these years? Had he made off in disguise, only to be murdered by
wandering bands? Had he been concealed, for months, i