"Where are those people going at this time of night?" asked M. Périères. "They seem to be anxious not to be seen, for since they have perceived us, they have been hesitating, apparently, which direction to take." "What does it matter to us?" replied M. de Morin. "They cannot have any motive for picking a quarrel with us, and, for the matter of that, in this charming country our revolvers never leave us." "It is precisely for that reason that I propose to give them the benefit of our society; they interest me. We shall possibly find some curious specimen of their manners and customs to surprise us, and, to tell the truth, my dear fellow, I have up to now paid so very little attention to the customs of Khartoum that to-night I feel inclined to devote some of my time to them." "Come along then," replied M. de Morin, who never objected to any proposition to throw himself headlong into some fresh adventure. They hastened their steps and soon found themselves in close proximity to the people who had excited their curiosity. "See!" exclaimed M. Périères. "They are carrying something." "Yes, and that something looks very like a human form. A midnight burial, perhaps. The Nile, you know, like the Ganges and other great rivers, is often made a receptacle for corpses." "Then their corpse is returning to life; it is struggling, defending itself, protesting, no doubt, against its destined tomb." "You are right! It is no burial—it is assassination. We must interfere." The band of men, seeing the pair coming towards them in hostile fashion, stopped, deposited their burden on the ground, surrounded it as if anxious to defend it, and assumed a threatening attitude. CHAPTER XLIX. The two Parisians ought to have halted a few yards from the gang, and have harangued or fought them there. They were armed with revolvers only, and, in a _mêlée_, fire-arms, of whatever description they be, frequently become of no use, because, if space for taking aim is not forthcoming, the firing must be all snap-shooting and without effect. But M. de Morin, carried away by his habitual impetuosity, rushed upon the gang, M. Périères followed him, and they found themselves in the midst of half a dozen men, armed with knives and very formidable curved swords. This sudden dash into the ruck, which closed round the trio with corresponding rapidity, had, however, one advantage, for at their very feet, in the roadway, and, so to speak, under their protection, they saw the man or woman who, a moment previously, was being carried towards the Nile. This living body, bound, gagged, and enveloped, as with a winding-sheet, in a large white bûrnus, gave evident signs of life in a series of convulsive jumps which, under other circumstances, would have been diverting enough. It was for all the world like a fish thrown up on a river bank, wriggling, floundering, and banging his tail about in lively, though futile fashion.