East and West -- Fiction; Egypt -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Hostages -- Fiction
The Camel Corps had all passed onwards down the khor in pursuit of the
retreating Dervishes, and for a few minutes the escaped prisoners had
been left alone. But now there came a cheery voice calling upon them,
and a red turban bobbed about among the rocks, with the large white face
of the Nonconformist minister smiling from beneath it. He had a thick
lance with which to support his injured leg, and this murderous crutch
combined with his peaceful appearance to give him a most incongruous
aspect--as of a sheep which has suddenly developed claws. Behind him
were two negroes with a basket and a water-skin.
“Not a word! Not a word!” he cried, as he stumped up to them. “I know
exactly how you feel. I’ve been there myself. Bring the water, Ali!
Only half a cup, Miss Adams; you shall have some more presently.
Now your turn, Mrs. Belmont! Dear me, dear me, you poor souls, how my
heart does bleed for you! There’s bread and meat in the basket, but you
must be very moderate at first.” He chuckled with joy, and slapped his
fat hands together as he watched them.
“But the others?” he asked, his face turning grave again.
The Colonel shook his head. “We left them behind at the wells. I fear
that it is all over with them.”
“Tut, tut!” cried the clergyman, in a boisterous voice, which could not
cover the despondency of his expression; “you thought, no doubt, that it
was all over with me, but here I am in spite of it. Never lose heart,
Mrs. Belmont. Your husband’s position could not possibly be as hopeless
as mine was.”
“When I saw you standing on that rock up yonder, I put it down to
delirium,” said the Colonel. “If the ladies had not seen you, I should
never have ventured to believe it.”
“I am afraid that I behaved very badly. Captain Archer says that I
nearly spoiled all their plans, and that I deserved to be tried by a
drumhead court-martial and shot. The fact is that, when I heard the
Arabs beneath me, I forgot myself in my anxiety to know if any of you
were left.”
“I wonder that you were not shot without any drumhead court-martial,”
said the Colonel. “But how in the world did you get here?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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