Apart from the humiliation of uselessly attempting to explain matters to them, it was somewhat gratifying to Maude to learn that after his return 'the poor master' had been for a time quite quiet, as if stunned; then that he had been like 'a tearing lunatic'; had telegraphed to Merlwood, to Braidielee, and even to Earlshaugh for tidings of her, but in vain; and in the latter instance, fully informing Hawkey Sharpe that the train the latter had laid was ending in an explosion; and then that 'the master' had set off by daybreak. He was not at his club in Queen Street. Could he have taken London _en route_ to Southampton, in the wild, vague hope of tracing her? Eventually she was made aware that he had written to his own agents, and to Mr. M'Wadsett, to endeavour to elucidate the mystery which hung over the actions of Maude, the author of the forged letter, and to look after her during his probably prolonged absence in Egypt. Thus, in rage and bewilderment, grief and anxiety, had Jack Elliot taken his departure, never doubting that they were both the victims of some nefarious plot, which he had not then time to unravel. He was indignant, too, that Maude should so cruelly mistake and doubt him. He started for Egypt some twenty-four hours sooner than he need have done, and hence came fresh complications. 'Oh, what new and unexpected worry is this, Maude?' exclaimed Hester Maule, when a few hours later the girl threw herself speechless and in a passion of tears into her arms. And now, or eventually, three lives they were interested in beyond all others (if Malcolm Skene survived), would be involved in the terrible risks of the war in the Soudan. CHAPTER XLIX. CHRISTMAS DAY IN CAMP AT KORTI. The last days of December saw Roland Lindsay with his regiment--the 1st Battalion of the South Staffordshire--of old, the 38th--a corps of the days of Queen Anne--the corps of the gallant old Luke Lillingston, who led the troops in Wilmot's West Indian Expedition of 1695--toiling in the boats up the great river of Egypt against strong currents by Kodokal, and within sight of the ruins of old Dongola--ruins of red brick covering miles--by Debbeh, where the currents were stronger still, and awnings could not be used, though the heat was 120 degrees, and the men became giddy and distracted by the white glare and the hot simmering atmosphere, with lassitude and thirst, and where it was so terrible at times, to emerge from the shadow of some impending rock, once more to plod and pull the heavy oar under the fierce and fiery sun. Though occasionally spreading the big sails like wings on each side of the boats, they would have a pleasant hour's run in the evening ere darkness or a rapid barred their upward way.