In the meantime welcome news awaited them at home. Mr. Tarkowski and Mr. Rawlison, being experienced engineers, had been invited a few weeks before to inspect and report on the works of the whole canal system in the province of El-Fayoum, in the vicinity of Medinet, on Lake Karoon, as well as along the Yoosuf and the Nile rivers. They were going to remain there nearly a month, and had therefore procured leave of absence from their own company. As Christmas was near, they both decided that they would not leave the children, and that Stasch and Nell should accompany them to Medinet. When the children heard the news they jumped up and down with joy. Until now they had only known about the cities bordering on the canal, such as Ismailia and Suez, and, on the other side of the lake, Alexandria and Cairo, from which they had visited the great Pyramids and the Sphinx. But these were short excursions, whereas the expedition to Medinet-el-Fayoum was a whole day’s journey by train along the Nile to the south, and then from El-Wasta to the west toward the Libyan desert. Stasch knew Medinet from the description given by the younger engineers and travelers, who went there to hunt all kinds of waterfowl, as well as wolves and hyenas in the desert. He knew that the town was a large isolated oasis on the left bank of the Nile, but that it was independent of the river’s overflow, having a water system of its own, formed by Lake Karoon and the Bahr-Yoosuf, and many small canals. Every one who had seen the oasis said that although this strip of land belongs to Egypt, it is separated from it by the desert, and seems to be an isolated spot. Only the river Yoosuf, like a thin blue ribbon, connects this district with the Nile valley. The great abundance of water, the fertility of the land, and the luxuriant vegetation make it an earthly paradise, and the extensive ruins of the ancient city of Crocodilopolis attract hundreds of curious travelers. Stasch was especially charmed with the shores of Lake Karoon, with its flocks of birds, and by the wolf-hunting expeditions in the desert hills of Jebel-el-Sedment.

Stasch’s vacation would not begin until a few days later, but as the inspection of the works on the canal was pressing, the fathers had no time to lose; so it was decided that they were to leave at once, and that the children, together with Mrs. Olivier, should follow them a week later. Nell and Stasch wanted to start at once, but Stasch did not venture to coax to go with them. For this reason they began to study and to inform themselves about everything concerning the journey, and it was with great joy that they learned they would not have to live in uncomfortable hotels kept by Greeks, but in tents placed at their disposal by Messrs. Cook & Co., traveling agents. For travelers from Cairo to Medinet, and also for people who intend staying there for any length of time, the company supplies tents, servants, cooks, provisions, horses, camels, donkeys, and guides, so as to relieve the traveler of all care. This is indeed an expensive way of traveling, but Mr. Tarkowski and Mr. Rawlison were not obliged to think of this, because all expenses were paid by the Egyptian Government, which had asked them, as experts, to inspect and report on the canal works.

Nell, whose greatest pleasure was riding a camel, made her father promise to get her one, on which she, in company with Mrs. Olivier or Dinah, and sometimes Stasch, might go along with the excursions to the borders of the desert and to Lake Karoon. Mr. Tarkowski promised Stasch that some time he would allow him to hunt wolves by night, and if he received a good report at school he would get him a genuine English shotgun and an entire hunting outfit. As Stasch was sure of having a good report, he immediately imagined himself the possessor of the gun, and resolved to accomplish difficult and wonderful and unheard-of deeds.

The happy children conversed about these things and made plans during the entire dinner. Mrs. Olivier was not at all enthusiastic about the coming journey, for she felt no desire to leave the comfortable villa in Port Said. At the very thought of living in tents, and especially at the prospect of taking excursions on camels, she began to be frightened. She had made several attempts to take similar rides—such as Europeans living in Egypt usually take—but it had always ended disastrously. Once the camel had stood up too soon, and as she had not settled herself in the saddle she slid from his back to the ground. Another time a dromedary, which is not accustomed to light burdens, shook her up so that she did not recover for two days. Nell, on the other hand, after two or three rides that her father had allowed her to take, declared that there was nothing in the world more delightful. But Mrs. Olivier had nothing but unpleasant memories of her rides. She said that it was all right for Arabs, or for such little crabs as Nell, who felt the shaking no more than a fly that had alighted on the camel’s hump; but for older people, the serious and rather heavy people who are sure to be seasick, it was a very different matter.

But she also had other reasons to be alarmed when she thought of Medinet-el-Fayoum. In Port Said, as well as in Alexandria, Cairo, and in fact throughout Egypt, people talked of nothing else but the revolt of the Mahdi and of the cruel deeds of the Dervishes. Although Mrs. Olivier did not exactly know where Medinet was, she felt uneasy lest it might be in too close proximity to the Mahdists, and at last she asked Mr. Rawlison.

But he only smiled and said:

“The Mahdi is at present besieging Khartum, which is defended by General Gordon. Do you know how far it is from Medinet to Khartum?”

“I have not the least idea.”

“About as far as from here to Sicily,” replied Mr. Tarkowski.

“Almost,” corrected Stasch. “Khartum lies at the junction of the White Nile and the Blue Nile. Much of Egypt and the whole length of Abyssinia separate us from it.”

He was on the point of adding that even if Medinet lay nearer the districts most affected by the insurrection, he would always be there with his rifle, but when he remembered that he had been repeatedly reproved by his father for similar bragging he was silent.

The two fathers began conversing about the Mahdi and the insurrection, for this was the most important news concerning Egypt. The news from Khartum was not encouraging. The savage tribes had now besieged the town for nearly a month and a half. The English and Egyptian government officials were slow to act; the relief army had scarcely started; and everybody thought that, notwithstanding Gordon’s fame, heroism, and ability, this important town would fall into the hands of the barbarians. Mr. Tarkowski, who suspected that England would be only too glad if the Mahdi were to conquer southern Egypt, so that they might recapture it from the Mahdi and convert this enormous tract into an English settlement, was of the same opinion. But he did not say this to Mr. Rawlison for fear of wounding his patriotic feelings.

When the dinner was nearly finished, Stasch inquired why the Egyptian Government had annexed all the land south of Nubia—Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan as far as the Albert-Nyanza, and why it had robbed the inhabitants of their liberty. Mr. Rawlison determined to explain this to him, because every move by the Egyptian Government was made at the command of England, which had extended her protectorate over Egypt and ruled it as she pleased.

“The Egyptian Government has deprived no one of his liberty,” said he, “but instead has returned it to hundreds, thousands, and perhaps millions. A short time ago there were no independent towns in Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan, except here and there where some small potentate asserted his rights to several districts and appropriated them by force, against the will of the inhabitants. But on the whole they were inhabited by independent tribes of Arabo-Negroes; that is to say, by people having the blood of both these races in their veins. These tribes were perpetually fighting with one another. They would attack one another, steal horses, cattle, and especially slaves. At the same time many atrocious deeds were committed, but the most desperate of these men were those who hunted for ivory and for slaves. They formed, as it were, a class apart, and to this class nearly all the chiefs of the tribes and the prosperous merchants belonged. These men led armed reconnoitering parties into the interior of Africa, and stole ivory tusks and took thousands of people—men, women, and children—captive. They also destroyed villages, settlements, and fields, and spilled rivers of blood; they mercilessly massacred every one who made any show of resistance; so much so that the southern part of Sudan, Darfur, and Kordofan, and also the districts of the upper Nile as far as the lakes, were almost depopulated in places. But the Arabs advanced still farther, so that nearly the whole of central Africa was converted into a vale of tears and blood. Therefore England, which, as you know, pursues all slave dealers in every part of the world, agreed that the Egyptian Government should occupy Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan, for that was the only way to force these thieves to stop their gruesome slave-trading. The unhappy negroes breathed freely once more, and, as they were no longer afraid of being robbed and attacked, they settled down to some degree of law and order. Apparently this state of affairs did not please the traders, so when Mohammed Achmed—now called the Mahdi—appeared in their midst, under the pretext that Mohammedanism in Egypt was on the decline, and proclaimed the Holy War, all the men of one accord took up arms, and thus the terrible war began, in which, until now, the Egyptians have fared very badly. The Mahdi has beaten the Egyptian troops in every battle, and has taken possession of Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan; his tribes are now besieging Khartum and advancing as far north as the borders of Nubia.”

“And is it possible that they can reach Egypt?” asked Stasch.

“No,” answered Mr. Rawlison. “The Mahdi, it is true, has proclaimed that he will conquer the whole world, but he is a barbarian and does not know what he is talking about. He can not conquer Egypt, for England will not permit it.”

“But suppose the Egyptian army be worsted?”

“Then the English troops, which are invincible, will appear on the scene.”

“And why did England permit the Mahdi to take possession of so many districts?”

“How do you know that she permitted him?” answered Mr. Rawlison. “England never acts in haste, for she is a great nation.”

The conversation was now interrupted by the negro servant, who announced that Fatima Smain was there and that she earnestly begged an audience. The women of the Orient practically confine their energies to household matters, and rarely leave the harem. Only the poorer ones go to market or work in the fields like the wives of the fellahs (Egyptian peasants), and they veil their faces. In Sudan, where Fatima came from, this was not the custom, and although she had been to Mr. Rawlison’s office before, her appearance in a private house, and especially at this late hour, seemed rather peculiar.

“We shall learn something new about Smain,” said Mr. Tarkowski.

“Yes,” answered Mr. Rawlison, at the same time motioning the servant to usher in Fatima.

In a few seconds there appeared a tall, young Sudanese woman; her dark, beautiful face, with its wild, tragic, and prophetic eyes, was unveiled. On entering she immediately fell on her face, and when Mr. Rawlison ordered her to arise she assumed a kneeling position.

“Sidi,” she began, “may Allah bless you, your heirs, your house, and your flocks.”

“What do you want?” asked the engineer.

“Pity, deliverance, and help in time of trouble. Oh, sir, I am imprisoned in Port Said, and destruction hovers over me and my children!”

“You say you are imprisoned, and yet you are able to come here even at night.”

“The Sabties, who guard my house day and night, led me here, and I’m sure they have been ordered to cut off our heads very soon.”

“Talk like a sensible woman,” answered Mr. Rawlison, frowning. “You are not in Sudan, but in Egypt, where no one is killed without a judicial sentence, and so you can rest assured that not a hair of your head or of your children’s will be touched.”

However, she besought him once more to intercede for her with the Egyptian Government, and obtain permission for her to travel to meet Smain. “The English are as great as you, sir,” she said; “they are able to accomplish anything. The government in Cairo thinks that Smain is guilty of treason, but that is not true. Yesterday I talked with Arabian merchants, who came from Suakim, after having bought rubber and ivory in Sudan, and they told me that Smain lies ill in El-Fasher and bids me and the children come to him, so that he may bless us.”

“Fatima, you have invented this tale,” interrupted Mr. Rawlison.

She now began to protest by Allah that she was telling the truth, and then she said that were Smain to recover he would certainly buy the freedom of all the Christian prisoners, and if he were to die then she—as a relative of the leader of the Dervishes—would easily gain admission to him, and be able to obtain anything she asked. If only she might travel to join her husband, for her heart bled longing to see him! What had she, unhappy woman done against the government or the Khedive? She asked if it were her fault, and if she could have prevented her misfortune in being the relative of the Dervish, Mohammed Achmed.

Fatima did not dare, before Englishmen, to call her relative “the Mahdi,” as that name means “Saviour of the World”; and she knew that the Egyptian Government looked upon him as a rebel and a schemer. Continually bowing and calling on heaven to witness her innocence and her misfortune, she began to weep piteously, just as women of the Orient are accustomed to do on the death of their husbands or sons. Then she threw herself on her face on the ground, or, speaking more correctly, on the carpet which covered the inlaid floor, and remained silent.

Nell, who had felt somewhat sleepy toward the end of dinner, was now wide awake, and, as she had a kind heart, she took her father’s hand, and kissing it over and over again, begged him to say a word in Fatima’s behalf.

“Won’t you help her, papa? Help her!”

And Fatima, who seemed to understand English, said between her sobs, without raising her head from the carpet:

“May Allah bless you, you little flower of paradise, Omaj’s delight! Little star without blemish!”

Although Stasch in his heart of hearts was very angry with the Mahdists, he was touched by Fatima’s request and by her sorrow. Besides, Nell had spoken for her, and he always ended by doing what she wanted, and so he said in an undertone, but still loud enough for all to hear:

“If I were the government, I would allow Fatima to leave.”

“But as you are not the government,” answered Mr. Tarkowski, “you had better not interfere in things that don’t concern you.”

Mr. Rawlison also had a compassionate heart, and he felt much sympathy for Fatima, but various things she had said seemed to him to be downright lies. As he practically did business daily in connection with the custom-house in Ismailia, he knew very well that no cargoes of rubber or ivory had passed through the canal lately. The trade in these goods had almost ceased. Besides, he knew that Arabian merchants could not return from the town El-Fasher, in Sudan, for from the beginning of the war the Mahdists absolutely refused to let merchants pass, and those they caught they robbed and took prisoners. Besides, it was almost certain that the tale of Smain’s illness was a lie.

But as Nell continued to look beseechingly at her father, the latter, not wishing to sadden the girl, said to Fatima:

“Fatima, I have, as you requested, written to the government, but have received no answer as yet. And now listen. To-morrow we are going with the Mehendis (engineers) to Medinet-el-Fayoum. On the way we shall remain a day in Cairo, for the Khedive wishes to speak to us and give us orders about things concerning the canal, which is being directed from Bahr-Yoosuf. During the conversation I will try to tell him your position and gain his good will for you; but I can do no more, and I can not promise anything.”

Fatima arose, and stretching out both hands in thanks, she cried out:

“And so I’m saved!”

“No, Fatima,” replied Mr. Rawlison, “do not speak of deliverance, for I have already told you that neither you nor your children are threatened with death. But whether or not the Khedive will permit you to depart I can not tell, for Smain is not ill, but a traitor, who, after having taken with him the government’s money, has not the least idea of redeeming the prisoners taken by Mohammed Achmed.”

“Sir, Smain is innocent, and he is in El-Fasher,” repeated Fatima; “and even if he had been unfaithful to the government, I swear to you, my benefactor, that if I am permitted to leave I shall plead with Mohammed until I have succeeded in making him release your prisoners.”

“Very well; I promise you once more that I will intercede for you with the Khedive.”

Fatima began to bow very low.

“Sidi, I thank you. You are not only powerful, but just. And now I beg you to let us serve you as slaves.”

“In Egypt there are no slaves,” answered Mr. Rawlison with a smile. “I have servants enough, and besides, I would not be able to give you a position as servant, for, as I have already told you, we are going to Medinet, and we may stay there till the feast of Ramadan.”

“Sir, I know it, for the overseer Chadigi told me; and when I heard it I not only came to beg you for help, but also to tell you that two men of my tribe (the Dangali), Idris and Gebhr, are camel-drivers in Medinet, and that as soon as you reach there they will place themselves and their camels at your disposal.”

“Good, good!” answered the director; “but the Cook Company is attending to all these details for us.”

Kissing the hands of the two gentlemen and the children, Fatima departed, blessing Nell as she went. The two engineers were silent for a while and then Mr. Rawlison said:

“Poor woman! She tells lies such as no one outside of the Orient would dream of. Even in her shower of thanks a false note is heard.”

“Certainly,” answered Mr. Tarkowski. “But it is also true that, whether Smain be a traitor or not, the government has no right to detain her in Egypt, for she is not responsible for her husband’s acts.”

“The government at this time does not permit any Sudanese to travel to Suakim and Nubia without permission, and this does not apply to Fatima only. There are many Sudanese in Egypt; they came here to make money, and among them are a certain number belonging to the Dangali tribe, from which the Mahdi comes. For instance, to it belong not only Fatima, but Chadigi and those two camel-drivers in Medinet. The Mahdists say the Egyptians are Turks, and are at war with them, and among the Arabs settled here are numerous followers of the Mahdi, who would like to go over to his side if they dared. They include all fanatics, all followers of Arabi Pasha, and many of the poorer classes. They are at outs with the government for having submitted to English influence, and pretend their religion suffers in consequence. Heaven knows how many have already fled by way of the desert, and by so doing have avoided the usual water route to Suakim, and as the government found out that Fatima had attempted to escape also, it ordered her to be placed under guard. Only by exchanging her and her children—as they are related to the Mahdi—for our men captured by them may we hope to get them back.”

“Do the lower classes in Egypt really sympathize with the Mahdi?”

“The Mahdi has followers even among our soldiers, and perhaps that is the reason they fight so badly.”

“But how can the Sudanese escape by way of the desert? It is thousands of miles long.”

“And yet slaves have been brought into Egypt that way.”

“I do not believe that Fatima’s children could stand a journey like that.”

“But she will make it shorter by crossing over to Suakim.”

“All the same, she is a poor woman.”

Thus the conversation ended.

And twelve hours later, after the “poor woman” had carefully locked herself in her house with the son of the overseer Chadigi, with raised eyebrows and a lowering glance in her lovely eyes, she whispered:

“Chamis, son of Chadigi, take this money; start to-day for Medinet, and give Idris this writing, which, at my request, the holy Dervish Ballali wrote to him. The children of these Mehendisi are good (i.e., good material to be used to further our ends)—there is no other way—if I can not gain permission to travel. I know that you will not betray me.... Remember that you and your father belong to the Dangali tribe, the same tribe to which the Mahdi belongs.”