But this Nebbi Khiddr was never satisfied for long with our conduct. Every month he had something to report to the “Khaleefa,” and just as regularly we were given extra chains, until a few dollars, entrusted to Idris for the poor, had sent him to the Khaleefa with a favourable report. All these ill-gotten moneys, as I have said, went to soothsayers, fortune-tellers, and talisman writers, in whose absolute power the |104| Saier was, though part went in baksheesh to the servants and counsellors of the Khaleefa, whom the Saier had to keep in funds in order to retain his place. The Saier knew very well that not a single one of us believed in this Nebbi Khiddr business, but as on the outside of the circle of the principal prisoners—and they were the only ones from whom money could be squeezed—were always gathered a number of the ignorant and, therefore, more fanatical of the Khaleefa’s adherents, he had invented this tale, which he gave year after year without the slightest variation in words, in order to hoodwink them and prevent any tales reaching the Khaleefa as to the sums “presented” by the prisoners. |105| CHAPTER IX MY FIRST CHANCE OF ESCAPE It was during my first months in prison that Ahmed Nur ed Din of the Kabbabish succeeded in getting into prison, in the hope of effecting my escape. I had for some years had dealings with Nur ed Din in connection with the Intelligence Department, and also the caravan trade. When I left Wadi Halfa with Saleh’s caravan, Nur ed Din was then at Saleh’s camp with messages to him from the Government. On his return to Wadi Halfa, he heard of what had happened, and coming at once to Omdurman, he sent a message by my servant that he had come for me. All his applications to get into the prison being refused by the guards, and fearing to make an application to Idris es Saier or the Mehkemmeh, he arranged with a friend to have a petty quarrel in the market-place; his friend hurried him before the Kadi, and Nur ed Din was ordered into prison. On seeing me walk towards him as he entered, as I did not know then that he came as a prisoner, he gave me a “hooss,” the Soudan equivalent for our “ssh” (silence), and walked off in another direction. Later in the day, and when we were being |106| marshalled to be driven into the common cell, he came next to me, and whispered, “I have come for you; be careful; keep your eyes open; try and obtain permission to sleep outside the Umm Hagar.” Two weeks elapsed before we had another opportunity of exchanging a few words, but in the interval Nur ed Din was ingratiating himself with the prisoners who associated with me, and gradually allowing his curiosity to speak to the “white kaffir” to be evident. It was necessary for him to act in this cautious manner in order to avert suspicion, and another week passed after his introduction to our little circle, before he dare seize an opportunity to consult me about his health and numerous ailments—which was his