The two bodies of camel-men had united, and the Arabs, in their grave, dignified fashion, were exchanging salutations and experiences, while the negroes grinned, chattered, and shouted, with the careless good-humour which even the Koran has not been able to alter.  The leader of the new-comers was a greybeard, a worn, ascetic, high-nosed old man, abrupt and fierce in his manner, and soldierly in his bearing.  The dragoman groaned when he saw him, and flapped his hands miserably with the air of a man who sees trouble accumulating upon trouble.

“It is the Emir Abderrahman,” said he.  “I fear now that we shall never come to Khartoum alive.”

The name meant nothing to the others, but Colonel Cochrane had heard of him as a monster of cruelty and fanaticism, a red-hot Moslem of the old fighting, preaching dispensation, who never hesitated to carry the fierce doctrines of the Koran to their final conclusions.  He and the Emir Wad Ibrahim conferred gravely together, their camels side by side, and their red turbans inclined inwards, so that the black beard mingled with the white one.  Then they both turned and stared long and fixedly at the poor, head-hanging huddle of prisoners.  The younger man pointed and explained, while his senior listened with a sternly impassive face.

“Who’s that nice-looking old gentleman in the white beard?” asked Miss Adams, who had been the first to rally from the bitter disappointment.

“That is their leader now,” Cochrane answered.

“You don’t say that he takes command over that other one?”

“Yes, lady,” said the dragoman; “he is now the head of all.”

“Well, that’s good for us.  He puts me in mind of Elder Mathews who was at the Presbyterian Church in Minister Scott’s time.  Anyhow, I had rather be in his power than in the hands of that black-haired one with the flint eyes.  Sadie, dear, you feel better now its cooler, don’t you?”

“Yes, auntie; don’t you fret about me.  How are you yourself?”

“Well, I’m stronger in faith than I was.  I set you a poor example, Sadie, for I was clean crazed at first at the suddenness of it all, and at thinking of what your mother, who trusted you to me, would think about it.  My land, there’ll be some head-lines in the Boston Herald over this!  I guess somebody will have to suffer for it.”

“Poor Mr. Stuart!” cried Sadie, as the monotonous droning voice of the delirious man came again to their ears.  “Come, auntie, and see if we cannot do something to relieve him.”

“I’m uneasy about Mrs. Shlesinger and the child,” said Colonel Cochrane.  “I can see your wife, Belmont, but I can see no one else.”

“They are bringing her over,” cried he.  “Thank God!  We shall hear all about it.  They haven’t hurt you, Norah, have they?” He ran forward to grasp and kiss the hand which his wife held down to him as he helped her from the camel.