  Thus it happened that Emin, hardly arisen from his bed of suffering, was again contemplating a mission to the interior of that continent out of which Stanley had but just conducted him with so much effort. But one thing troubled him—his anxiety for his child. Ferida had been kept far away from him during his illness and when she was brought back to him her joy was unbounded. “Oh papa,” she exclaimed, “now you are never going away from me again. We shall always be together.” Such appeals were hard for the father to bear after he had come to the decision to send her back to Europe. But the thousand anxieties which he had felt for the little helpless being in the wilderness were a lesson he could not for an instant forget. Now that they were at the coast, there was an opportunity to send her to her relatives in Germany without fear of danger. It would be wicked to take her with him again into a strange land. So there came a tearful leave-taking. How hard it was for the child to obey the will of her father, although her old and trusty Arab nurse was going with her. It seemed to the little one that her heart was breaking and that she was going alone into a far-distant strange country. It was a bitter task for Emin also to separate from his child. He stood upon the shore and watched the steamer until all that he could see was a little cloud of smoke on the horizon. Then he turned away and sighed heavily. He had a presentiment that he might never see her again. Poor little Ferida! What a sad journey for her. The Arab attendant, who had been in Emin’s house so many long years and had been considered true and devoted to the child, followed her own selfish designs. She schemed to appropriate her money and for this purpose presented in Cairo the papers, which proved her to be Emin’s daughter, for the purpose of securing the eight years’ arrears of pay due Emin. Fortunately her trick was prevented by the German ambassador, but he could not prevent the vile woman from tattooing the helpless little creature’s body, naturally a painful operation. These troubles passed, however. Ferida was placed in a railway carriage, this time under careful oversight. She passed through countries which seemed strange to her, especially when she found that all the people were white. At last came a day when a gracious lady folded the poor fatherless child in her arms, and, caressing her a thousand times, called her her dear little daughter. It was Emin’s sister, Fraulein Schnitzer, who took the little one to Neisse and cared for her as a mother. |
|
