ving it out with the foes of his predilection.

Harry Forsyth had no idea whatever that England had engaged in
hostilities in the Soudan. When he last had any information, she was
firmly determined to do nothing of the kind, but to let the Egyptian
Government get out of the difficulty in the best way they could.
Indeed, it was the last thing he would have guessed. But still he knew
well enough that English interests were firmly bound up in Egyptian,
since any disturbance of the Government at Cairo might endanger the
route to India, and therefore that to assist in any way the enemies of
Egypt was to act indirectly against his own country; and he was
determined to be of no use, even if he made believe to espouse the cause
which his uncle had made his own. And this he suspected more and more
he would have to do, if he was to get an opportunity of leaving the
country.

His uncle had hinted at an impending advance upon Egypt; if he could
join that, and once reach the Nile, surely he would find some
opportunity of slipping down the river, and joining the Egyptian troops,
who would receive a relic of Hicks Pasha's army with open arms. Then he
would get to Cairo, and find friends to assist him to reach England with
the will in his pocket.

He did not fear that the Arabs would be able to penetrate far into Egypt
proper, for there were probably some English troops still at Cairo, and
more would be sent there on the first intimation of danger. The will,
by-the-by, had now taken the place which the parchment given to him by
his uncle had formerly held, and he seldom laid it aside, not knowing
what might happen from day to day.

His health, meantime, became re-established, and he grew rapidly
stronger, while his mind was perfectly clear now. At times, indeed, he
had violent neuralgic headaches, but these recurred less and less
frequently, and he had every prospect of soon losing all ill effects of
that wound in his head.

But the stronger and better he became, the more restless he grew. The
only amusement he had to pass the time in was riding. He had always
been very fond of horses, and now he had a good choice, and as the two
he had fancied most had not been often backed, they took some riding;
and that was exercise and amusement both. But the bits and the saddles
were not to his fancy: the former too severe; the latter heavy, with
high peaks before and behind. But one cannot have everything, and he
was grateful to