In the Mahdi's Grasp Part 19

"Not I, my lad. I know what you must feel. All I want of you now is for you to play the stoic. Make up your mind that you have done your utmost to set the ball rolling; now let it roll, and only give it a touch when you are asked. Believe me that you will be doing your best then."

"I will try," said Frank firmly. "Only give me time. I am schooling myself as hardly as I can. It is a difficult part to play."

The professor reached out his hand and gripped his young companion's shoulder firmly, riding on for some minutes without relaxing his grasp, the touch conveying more in the way of sympathy than any words would have done, while the discomforts of the novel ride seemed to die away, and the soft dreaminess of the night grew soothing; the vast silvery grey expanse, melting away in its vastness, became lit-up with a faint halo of hope, and with his spirits rising, Frank seemed another man when the professor spoke again--

"Bob Morris will be feeling neglected."

"Go to him, then," said Frank quietly.

"No; you go first. But there's nothing like making a beginning at once."

"In what way?" asked Frank, for his companion paused.

"Begin treating him as what he is to be till our task is done--the learned Hakim; and begin to school yourself into acting as his slave."

"Now?"

"Why not? I spoke of him just now as Bob Morris. That's the last time till we are safely under the British flag again."

"Yes, you are right," said Frank, and urging on his camel the animal stepped out and pa.s.sed of its own accord alongside that of the doctor, who uttered a sigh of relief as he saw who it was.

"That's better, Frank," he said. "I was beginning to feel a bit lonely, for this ride is not very cheerful, and the bringing of fresh muscles into play is producing aches and pains."

Frank raised his hands to his head, and bowed down.

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor; "not such a very bad imitation of a salaam. What have you two been talking about?"

Frank raised his hand, and saw that his tall shadow was repeating the action, as he pointed straight ahead.

"About our journey's end, eh?" said the doctor. "That's right. I shall be glad to get there and lie down, if it is only upon the sand. How do you get on with your camel?"

Frank made a despairing gesture.

"Same here," said the doctor. "I wish we could have had some lessons first. But use is second nature, and I suppose this weary, aching sensation of being waved about in the air will soon pa.s.s off. But I say, Frank, my lad."

Frank turned to him.

"There, that will do for to-night," said the doctor pettishly. "I haven't cut your tongue out yet, so just talk like a Christian. This vast open place seems to sit upon my spirits, especially now that we're making this night journey instead of lying comfortably in our beds.

Talk to me. You've done acting enough for the present."

"Very well," said Frank quietly; "but Landon thinks with me, that the sooner I begin to play my part the sooner I shall make myself perfect."

"Well, yes, of course," grunted the doctor; "but leave it till we put on our costumes. I say, I think this Sheikh is all right."

"Yes; I have perfect faith in him now."

"So have I. He's a fine old fellow; there is no doubt about that. But Frank, my lad, I don't think I could have kept this up much longer if you had gone on with that dumb-motion business. It only wanted that to give me the horrors, for this night ride seems to be about the most mysteriously weird business possible to conceive. Just look at the ghostly appearance of the camels and their leaders, the long, strongly marked shadows, and the mysterious light! I can't get away from the idea that it is all a dream."

"That is how it has been impressing us," replied Frank.

"And no wonder. Everything is terribly unreal, and between ourselves I am beginning to lose heart."

"You?" said Frank reproachfully. "You, the calm, grave surgeon, accustomed to terrible scenes, to awful emergencies where men's lives depend upon your coolness and that calm, firm manner in which you face all difficulties!"

"Yes, at home and in my proper place. But here I seem to be masquerading--playing, as it were."

"Playing!" said Frank reproachfully.

"Well, I hardly mean that, my dear boy," said the doctor softly; "but all this is so strange and--well, yes--risky."

"Yes, it is risky," said Frank sadly, "but--"

"Yes, I know," said the doctor, interrupting; "I do think of why we are doing it, and I can't help shrinking a bit and doubting my nerve to carry it all through. If I break down in any way I shall sacrifice the liberty if not the lives of you all. It is this that makes me feel doubts about my nerve."

"I have none whatever," said Frank quietly. "You know how often you have talked to me about the operations you have performed."

"Well, yes, I have talked to you a good deal both before and after some of them. Harry and I always opened out our hearts to one another, and when he went away he asked me to make you his subst.i.tute--to take his place with you."

"So like Hal," said Frank softly. "Well, and so you have."

"Have I, lad? Well, I have tried, and it has been very pleasant to have you come to me to chat over your experiences and successes and failures, and to tell you mine."

"You have made more of a man of me," said Frank softly; "often and often when I have felt that I was only an ignorant, blundering boy."

"I never saw much of the ignorance or blundering," said the doctor quietly. "You were always too enthusiastic over your studies for that."

"Never mind about my qualities," said Frank, with a little laugh; "it is like trying to put me off from talking about you. As I was going to say, don't you remember telling me that whenever you were going to perform an operation upon some poor suffering fellow-creature you always felt a strong sensation of shrinking and want of nerve?"

"Of course. I always do."

"And that you always prayed that your efforts might be rightly guided?"

"Yes," said the doctor, very softly and slowly.

"And that the next day when you went into the operating theatre and stood there with the patient before you, the students and surgeons with your a.s.sistants about you ready for the task, you always felt as calm and cool as possible, and that your nerves were like steel?"

"Yes! It is so."

"Then why should you feel doubt now? I have none."

The doctor was silent for a few minutes as they rode on through the mysterious-looking night, their shadows bowing and undulating on the sand.

"I suppose it is the same," he said at last, "with the soldiers going into some engagement. There is the feeling of nervousness which they suffer from till the stern work begins, and then--well, they act as brave men do act."

"Even if they are generals in the great fight with disease and death,"

said Frank gravely. "I wish I could feel as sure of our ultimate success as I do of your being perfectly calm and self-contained in all you do."

"I should be, my dear boy," said the doctor, "if I could only get rid of the feeling that I shall be an impostor."