第 5 页

They had just finished breakfast, and were discussing, for probably the fiftieth time, the chances of escape.

"It is too soon yet to lay plans," said Godfrey. "I'll admit, though, that it looks very much as if our lives were to be spared."

"And does that mean that we will be kept right here?" asked Arthur.

"It means that we will be sold into slavery at the first opportunity," replied Godfrey. "If we escape at all it must be from this prison. Money is powerful the world over, and we fortunately have our belts of gold still concealed on our persons. When the proper time comes ——"

He paused, and held up a warning finger. The boys listened, alarmed to hear a confused tumult from the lower floor of the prison.

A moment later the tread of many feet and the jangle of arms echoed along the corridor. Then the cell door was thrown open, revealing a group of Arab soldiers. Safid Pasha strode inside. His evil face wore a mocking smile of hate und triumph.

"Follow me, dogs!" he cried harshly. "Your time has come."

The white, frightened faces of the prisoners showed how sudden and unexpected was this blow. They understood the command as a summons to execution.

* * *

Chapter VII

Godfrey was the first to recover self-control.

"Be brave, lads," he whispered. "Don't disgrace your flag."

The admonition was hardly needed. In this moment of despair, Arthur and Roden showed the genuine pluck and nerve that is the heritage of every young American.

They defiantly confronted Safid Pasha. Not a mus cle quivered, and only the pallor of their cheeks told of repressed agitation.

Between two rows of soldiers the captives marched out of the cell and down to the lower floor of the prison.

After a brief delay here, they passed out into the street, and thence on toward the square, followed by a dense and hooting crowd. A file of Soudanese soldiers before the palace seemed to indicate the place of execution.

It was a pleasing surprise then when Safid Pasha led the way into a vast room on the lower floor of the building.

An instant later, the prisoners were before the new Mahdi —- the present ruler of the Soudan, and the one time Sheik of the Baggara Arabs.

He was a powerful, bearded man, with a ferocious cast of features. He sat on a sort of platform, covered with cloth, and was surrounded by scores of armed dervishes and Egyptians.

"I think I know what this means," Godfrey whispered to his companions. "A proposition will be made to you, though I will not be included in it. You must either accept or refuse. It will be a hard choice, but I advise you, for the sake of your father, to accept life on any terms."

He had no opportunity to explain further, for Safid Pasha had just finished a conversation with the Mahdi. Now the former turned to the prisoners in the character of interpreter.

Godfrey was plied with questions concerning the state of affairs at Suakin and other points in Egypt, and on matters relating to England's intended policy with the Soudan.

To every one he returned an evasive and unsatisfactory answer, and he was so imprudent as to add that General Gordon's death would some day be avenged.

On this being interpreted to the Mahdi, he exhibited symptoms of intense rage, and, for a moment, he was inclined to order the prisoner's head to be struck off in his presence.

But he finally cooled down and spoke a few hasty words to Safid Pasha, who instantly turned to the prisoners with a malicious grin of satisfaction on his face.

"The Mahdi has spoken," he said. "You, Godfrey Congdon, will be beheaded in the Palace Square at sunrise to-morrow."

Godfrey heard the dread sentence of doom with un changed features.

"Foul-hearted dog of a traitor!" he hissed, in a low tone.

Safid Pasha flushed with rage, but he was powerless to resent the bitter words.

"The Koran commands that all heretics shall be slain," he said, glaring fiercely at the two lads, "yet the Mahdi is willing to grant you mercy. He bids you cast aside your false religion and embrace the true faith of Mohammed. On these terms he will spare your lives and give you positions of honor in the palace."

A most impressive silence ensued. Arthur and Roden looked eagerly at each other, and then turned to Godfrey, who quietly nodded his head.

Still the brave boys hesitated. It was a critical test that they were called upon to endure —- a test as severe as those by which the Christian martyrs of old were tried.

The choice rested with them. On the one hand was life —- and never had it seemed sweeter than now —- the prospect of escape in the future, of finding and rescuing their father, and of going back together to the dear American home.

On the other hand was the black end of every thing —- speedy and terrible death by Arab swords.

Yet in this supreme moment the boys held fast to honor. It was Godfrey's calm heroism that decided their choice and led Roden to cry bravely to Safid Pasha.

"Tell the Mahdi that I refuse his offer. If my companion dies, I die with him."

"And my answer is the same," said Arthur, resting one hand on his brother's shoulder. "Better death, Roden, than to deny God!"

A tear shone in Godfrey's eye.

"Stop, lads," he implored. "Think once again before you decide. Do not be persuaded to share my fate out of a mistaken sense of loyalty. Believe me, I shall die the happier for knowing that you will live."

But these words only steeled the brave boys to their resolution. They repeated their answer to Safid Pasha, who quickly interpreted it to his master.

The Mahdi's brutal face lighted up with something that was very akin to admiration. Then he pronounced a similar sentence to Godfrey's.

This was what Safid Pasha had most desired, and he could scarcely repress his joy and satisfaction.

"Allah is great!" he cried, turning to the prisoners. "His will be done! Vile heretics, you will die together just as the sun rises on Khartoum to- morrow morning."

A low murmur ran through the assembled audience. The news seemed to have reached the square, for a great shouting and yelling arose.

The boys turned a trifle paler. For a moment a mist swam before their eyes, and they felt faint.

A sharp gasp of surprise from Godfrey broke the spell; with an eager expression on his face he was staring across the room.

"What is it?" asked Roden.

Godfrey's eyes fell, and he looked at the lad with unutterable sadness.

"I saw a white face back by yonder doorway," he replied. "It is gone now."

"A white face?" exclaimed both boys incredulously.

"Yes," Godfrey asserted. "I am not mistaken. Though deeply bronzed, the features were European."

"Perhaps it is some one who may aid us," said Arthur.

"If we could only get a chance to talk to him," added Roden.

Godfrey shook his head.

"Don't build up false hopes, lads. It is best to forget the matter. No white man can be here other than as a foul traitor. It is some wretch, perhaps, who was tempted as we have been, and forgot God and loyalty."

At this point the guards laid hold of the prisoners and hustled them into the square. A hooting crowd followed to the prison doors, and when the wretched captives were locked in their cell they still heard the hoarse outcry through the thick walls.

They were too stunned and dazed to pay heed to anything. The balance of the day passed like a dream. They left their dinner untouched. Constantly before them was the vision of the square and the executioners.

Toward evening a keener sense of their impending doom roused them a little. In vain they discussed all sorts of harebrained measures for escape. They even examined the stout walls of their cell, and the one narrow, grated window.

About sunset Selim, the friendly-disposed guard previously mentioned, entered the cell with a jug of water and a platter of coarse cakes. As he hastened away be gave the prisoners a peculiar glance, the meaning or which they were destined to discover shortly.

"I believe the fellow pities us," said Godfrey.

"Come, my lads, try to eat a little."

"I can't," replied Arthur. "I'm not hungry."

"Nor I," added Roden. "I feel as though I would go mad. Look, the sun is fading. We have seen it for the last time. Oh! my father —- my poor father."

"Bear up, my lads," said Godfrey. "It will soon be over. Your father will join you in a better world than this. I know how you feel, for I, too, have dear relatives in England. And they will never know——"

He suddenly paused, and uttered a low, eager cry. From the bottom of the platter, where it had been con cealed under the cakes, he drew a crumpled bit of yellow paper.

"What is it?" exclaimed both lads.

"Wait," Godfrey whispered.

With trembling hands he unfolded the paper, and instantly his face flushed.

"Listen!" he muttered. "What do you make of this?"

Then he read aloud the following:

"Have you money or any articles of value on your persons? If so, give them to the guard when he comes again. Trust all to your unknown friend."

Arthur and Roden trembled with joy. They could hardly believe that they had heard aright. They took the message and eagerly examined it. The writing was bold and legible.

"Better destroy this," said Godfrey, putting the paper into his mouth and chewing it to a pulp.

"Thank God!" he added fervently. "He has raised us up a friend in the time of our need."

"Who can it be?" exclaimed Arthur.

"The white man whom Godfrey saw in the palace, of course," replied Roden.

"It must be," assented Godfrey. "But I must warn you, lads, not to build your hopes too high. The message is somewhat of an enigma. We cannot tell as yet what it will lead to."

"It must lead to escape," cried Arthur. "It must. And I feel it will."

"We shall speedily know the worst or the best," replied Godfrey. "We will follow instructions, and when Selim comes back ——.

"How fortunate that we brought money along," interrupted Roden, who was already fumbling for his belt. "We have between us five hundred dollars in gold."

"Of which a third is in my possession," broke in Godfrey. "Let us try that first. It may prove sufficient."

"Hush!" he added hurriedly. "We may be overheard. Try to eat your supper as calmly as though nothing had happened. Remember that there are other guards in the prison beside Selim."

With an effort the boys forced their excitement under control. They even managed to eat the coarse cakes with a relish.

A half-hour slipped by, while the prisoners waited in silence amid the deepening gloom. Their hearts thrilled when quick footsteps were heard in the corridor.

Selim unlocked the door and entered the cell He stooped and picked up the platter and the jug. Then he stood significantly still.

Godfrey, had previously removed his money belt. Now he opened the end, and poured a shower of golden coin into the guard's outstretched hand.

In the dim light Selim's dusky face shone with greed. Evidently what he had received was beyond his expectations.

He stowed the money away in his clothes, and lis tened keenly for a moment. Then he took a flat, broad package wrapped in paper from under his blouse, and let it slip noiselessly to the floor.

Without a word he glided from the cell, closing and locking the door.

Before Selim's footsteps had died away Godfrey seized the package and eagerly tore it open.

* * *

Chapter VIII

Roden and Arthur uttered low exclamations of de light as a coil of thin hempen rope and a short-bladed knife fell to the floor.

In the wrapper Godfrey found another message on a scrap of paper. It was very brief and concise:

im is on duty until morning. At midnight the bell of the mosque, opposite the prison, will peal. When you hear it, pretend to be quarreling. This will give Selim a pretext to enter the cell. Then overpower him, and bind and gag him securely. Lock him in the cell and take his keys. In cell number 40, on the same floor you will find a trapdoor leading to the roof. Fasten the rope to the parapet of the rear wall, and descend to the ground. There a friend will be waiting. Destroy this letter.

"NAPOLEON."

Godfrey re-read the note to himself. Then he crumpled it up, and began to chew it between his teeth. For a moment the prisoners were half-stupid with joy. They felt that escape was already assured. "Won't Safid Pasha be furious if be finds us missing in the morning?" said Arthur.

"Don't count on safety yet," replied Godfrey. "The least hitch will spoil everything. Even if we get out of the prison, the town and its countless perils are still before us."

These words somewhat cooled the ardor of the boys. It was, indeed, best that they should not count too much upon escaping the Mahdi's sentence of death. Godfrey had not exaggerated the meshwork of danger. "The man signs himself Napoleon," said Roden, after some further discussion of the note. "That's a queer name."

"He is either a Frenchman or a lunatic," said Godfrey. "Perhaps both."

"But a lunatic could hardly have planned such a thing, or induced the guard to help him," argued, Roden.

"That's clever reasoning, my lad," Godfrey replied. "And I dare say you are right."

"It looks as though Selim would have the worst of it," said Arthur. "He won't find it easy to make suitable excuses to the Mahdi or Safid Pasha."

"He probably thinks that the gold will atone for any punishment he may receive," suggested Godfrey. "But that is his affair, not ours."

"By the way," remarked Arthur, "how does it happen that the cells are numbered in English characters?"

"It must have been done when General Gordon was ruler of Khartoum," Roden answered.

"No doubt that's the case," said Godfrey. "And now I would advise you lads to drop conversation. We had better wait in silence."

The boys heeded this piece of advice, and from that time on scarcely a whisper broke the quiet of the cell.

The monotony and painful suspense of those hours of waiting were beyond description. At intervals the footsteps of the guard passed the door.