He seemed to recognise his friend directly, and caught him by the arm. "Look here," he said, "I have no time to advise you, Hal. Be thrown from a horse; cut your forehead, or your leg. Do something that they can see looks bad--something that will stain your white things with blood. They will believe it then, and beg that you may be taken to the Hakim.--Ah, what are you doing here? Why are you not curing the Baggara's white slave?" The doctor had taken his young friend's wrist and laid a cool hand upon his burning, throbbing brow, with excellent effect, for Frank's loud talking grew broken, then indistinct, and rapidly sank into a low, incoherent babbling, as he closed his eyes. "Hah!" said Sam softly; "it's wonderful, sir. To do that with just a touch of your hands. But what is it, sir? One of those horrible African fevers? 'Tain't catching, is it?" he added excitedly. "If you feel alarmed," replied the doctor coldly, "keep away from the room. Mr Landon and I will nurse him." Sam turned upon him with a reproachful look. "Likely, sir!" he said scornfully, and he bent over the angareb and began giving little touches to the pillow, making a point of passing his hand over Frank's face and leaning quite close so as to feel his breath play upon his cheek, before laying a hand upon the sufferer's. "I don't care if it is ketching," he said; "I'm not going to leave Master Frank in a hole like that. If I get it he'll get better and help me. Breath's hot, sir, but it don't smell nasty and fevery. P'r'aps it's only being too much in the sun, after all." "Thank you, Samuel," said the doctor, in his quiet, grave way, and he patted the man gently on the shoulder. "Thank me, sir?--Oh, here's Mr Landon, sir." "Hullo, there!" said the professor, hurriedly entering; "what's the matter? Don't say Frank's ill!" "He is saying it for himself, my dear Fred," replied the doctor. "You have had some experience of this sort of thing out here. Look at him. He is calmer now, but he was talking wildly at random a few minutes ago." "What! Oh! Saint George and the Dragon! he mustn't begin to talk," cried the professor excitedly. "That would spoil all." There was a pause while the professor bent over and examined the sufferer. "Well," he said, "I'm not a doctor, but my journeys out here made me dabble a bit, and quack over my own ailments and those of my followers when there was no medical man to be had. I don't know, Robert, old friend, but I should say it was a touch of brain fever, consequent upon yesterday's excitement in the sun." "Ah-h-h!" ejaculated Sam, with a sigh of relief. "You be quiet," said the professor sharply. Then turning to the doctor, "Well, what do you think?" "The same as you do. Poor lad! His anxiety was horrible, and what he went through was enough to prostrate a man twice as strong." "But you don't think he is going to be seriously ill?"