In Desert and Wilderness. Henryk Sienkiewicz

make up for lost time, they now were speeding from fear that the older gentlemen might scold them because of a late arrival. But after a while he understood that such could not be the case, as Mr. Rawlinson would have been more angered for unnecessarily fatiguing Nell. Then what did it mean? And why did they not obey his commands? In the heart of the boy anger and fear for Nell began to rise.

      "Stop!" he shouted with his whole strength, addressing Gebhr.

      "Ouskout! (be silent)!" the Sudânese yelled in reply; and they sped on.

      In Egypt night falls about six o'clock, so the twilight soon became extinct and after a certain time the great moon, ruddy from the reflection of the twilight, rolled on and illuminated the desert with a gentle light.

      In the silence could be heard only the heavy breathing of the camels, the rapid hoof-beats on the sand, and at times the swish of whips. Nell was so tired that Stas had to hold her on the saddle. Every little while she asked how soon they would reach then destination, and evidently was buoyed up only by the hope of an early meeting with her father. But in vain both children gazed around. One hour passed, then another; neither tents nor camp-fires could be seen.

      Then the hair rose on Stas' head, for he realized that they were kidnapped.

      VI

      Messrs. Rawlinson and Tarkowski actually expected the children, not amidst the sand-hills of Wâdi Rayân, where they had no need or desire to ride, but in an entirely different direction, in the city of El-Fachn on a canal of the same name at which they were examining the work finished before the end of the year. The distance between El-Fachn and Medinet in a straight line is almost twenty-eight miles. As, however, there is no direct connection and it is necessary to ride to El-Wasta, which doubles the distance, Mr. Rawlinson, after looking over the railway guide, made the following calculations.

      "Chamis left the night before last," he said to Pan Tarkowski, "and in El-Wasta he caught the train from Cairo; he was therefore in Medinet yesterday. It would take an hour to pack up. Leaving at noon they would have to wait for the night train running along the Nile, and as I do not permit Nell to ride at night, they would leave this morning and will be here immediately after sunset."

      "Yes," said Pan Tarkowski, "Chamis must rest a little, and though Stas is indeed impulsive, nevertheless, where Nell is concerned you may always depend upon him. Moreover, I sent him a postal card not to ride during the night."

      "A brave lad, and I trust him," answered Mr. Rawlinson.

      "To tell the truth, so do I. Stas with his various faults has an upright character and never lies, for he is brave, and only a coward lies. He also does not lack energy and if in time he acquires a calm judgment, I think he will be able to take care of himself in this world."

      "Certainly. As to judgment, were you judicious at his age?"

      "I must confess that I was not," replied Pan Tarkowski, laughing, "but

       I was not so self-confident as he."

      "That will pass. Meanwhile, be happy that you have such a boy."

      "And you that you have such a sweet and dear creature as Nell."

      "May God bless her!" answered Mr. Rawlinson with emotion.

      The two friends warmly shook hands, after which they sat down to examine the plans and the report of expenditures connected with the work. At this occupation the time passed until evening.

      About six o'clock, when night fell, they were at the station, strolling along the walk, and resumed their conversation about the children.

      "Superb weather, but cool," said Mr. Rawlinson. "I wonder if Nell took some warm clothing with her."

      "Stas will think of that, and Dinah also."

      "I regret, nevertheless, that instead of bringing them here, we did not go to Medinet."

      "You will recollect that that is just what I advised."

      "I know, and if it were not that we are to go from here farther south, I would have agreed. I calculated, however, that the trip would take too much time and on the whole it would be best to have the children here. Finally, I will confess to you that Chamis suggested the idea to me. He announced that he prodigiously yearned for them and would be happy if I sent for both. I am not surprised that he should be so attached to them."

      Further conversation was interrupted by signals announcing the approach of the train. After an interval the fiery eyes of the locomotive appeared in the darkness, and at the same time could be heard its puffs and whistle.

      A row of lighted coaches drew alongside the platform, quivered, and stood still.

      "I did not see them in any window," said Mr. Rawlinson.

      "Perhaps they are seated further inside and surely will come out immediately."

      The passengers began to alight, but they were mainly Arabs, as El-Fachn has nothing interesting to see except beautiful groves of palms and acacias. The children did not arrive.

      "Chamis either did not make connections in El-Wasta," declared Pan Tarkowski, with a shade of ill-humor, "or after a night of travel overslept himself, and they will not arrive until to-morrow."

      "That may be," answered Mr. Rawlinson, with uneasiness, "but it also may be possible that one of them is sick."

      "In that case Stas would have telegraphed."

      "Who knows but that we may find a despatch in the hotel?"

      "Let us go."

      But in the hotel no news awaited them. Mr. Rawlinson became more and more uneasy.

      "What do you think could have happened?" said Pan Tarkowski. "If Chamis overslept himself, he would not admit it to the children and would come to them to-day and tell them that they are to leave to-morrow. To us he will excuse himself by claiming that he misunderstood our orders. In any event, I shall telegraph to Stas."

      "And I to the Mudir of Fayûm."

      After a while the despatches were sent. There was indeed no cause for uneasiness; nevertheless, in waiting for an answer the engineers passed a bad night, and early morning found them on their feet.

      The answer from the Mudir came about ten o'clock and was as follows:

      "Verified at station. Children left yesterday for Gharak el-Sultani."

      It can easily be understood what amazement and anger possessed the parents at this unexpected intelligence. For some time they gazed at each other, as if they did not understand the words of the despatch; after which Pan Tarkowski, who was an impulsive person, struck the table with his hand and said:

      "That was Stas' whim, but I will cure him of such whims."

      "I did not expect that of him," answered Nell's father.

      But after a moment he asked:

      "But what of Chamis?"

      "He either did not find them and does not know what to do or else rode after them."

      "Yes, I think so."

      An hour later they started for Medinet. In camp they ascertained that the camels were gone, and at the station it was confirmed that Chamis left with the children for El-Gharak. The affair became darker and darker and it could be cleared up only in El-Gharak.

      In fact, only at that station did the dreadful truth begin to dawn.

      The station-master, the same sleepy one with dark spectacles and red fez, told them that he saw a boy about fourteen years old and an eight-year-old girl with an old negress, who rode towards the desert. He did not remember whether there were eight or nine camels altogether, but observed that one was heavily packed as if for a long journey, and the two Bedouins also had big pack-saddles. He recollected also that when he stared at the caravan one of the camel drivers, a Sudânese, said to him that those were the children of the Englishmen