第 6 页

Gradually the wonted sounds from the lower floor died away. Prisoners and officials were asleep. Of the former there were probably but few in the building, since offenders against the Mahdi usually went into slavery or to the sword.

When patience had reached its utmost limit, and Godfrey, and his companions were beginning to think that the midnight hour was long past, they were suddenly stirred to hope by the looked-for signal. The bell of the adjacent mosque began to peal in deep and solemn tones.

The prisoners listened anxiously until the last stroke died away in echoes over the sleeping city.

"Now," muttered Godfrey, and seizing Roden by the shoulders he began to drag him about the cell. Both made a scuffling noise with their feet, and uttered low, hoarse cries.

In the midst of this clever bit of acting the cell door was thrown open, and the dimly burning lamp in the corridor revealed the tall figure of the guard.

"Silence, dogs!" he cried, in a purposely loud voice. "Do you wish to taste the sword before the appointed time?" As he spoke he made two steps forward, and quickly Godfrey had him tightly by the throat.

Selim allowed himself to be handled like a child, and in a very brief time he was bound and gagged, and lying in a far corner of the cell.

Yet the time had been amply sufficient for a visitor to seek and gain admittance at the main door of the prison. Godfrey and the boys heard nothing of it, owing to the muffled noise that was made in overpowering and securing the guard.

Now, just as they were ready to leave, the sound of approaching footsteps fell on their ears. Godfrey's first impression was that Selim had betrayed them.

"Some one is coming, lads," he whispered.

The boys turned pale, and jerked out the revolvers they had taken from Selim.

"We won't be recaptured alive," muttered Arthur, gritting his teeth.

"Hold on," added Godfrey. "A bit of strategy may save us. Out of sight, lads, quick!"

Arthur and Roden hastily slipped behind one side of the doorway, and Godfrey posted himself on the other.

There was a look of grim resolve on his face as he grasped Selim's reversed rifle in both hands.

Closer and closer came the firm, steady tread. Now the footsteps paused just outside, and an instant later the bulky figure of Safi Pasha was projected fairly within the cell.

The Egyptian's eyes were momentarily blinded by the sudden change from light to darkness; and before he could see clearly, a stunning blow on the forehead from the stock of Godfrey's weapon brought him heavily to the floor.

Not a cry escaped his lips; not a limb moved. He lay in a limp heap as one dead.

Godfrey darted noiselessly from the cell, and in a few seconds he was back.

"All quiet," he announced, in an eager whisper.

"There may yet be time to carry out the escape."

"What do you suppose brought Safid Pasha here at such an hour?" asked Roden.

"Probably he wanted to make sure that we were safe," suggested Arthur.

"Well, he found out," muttered Godfrey, as he bent over the body. "He is only stunned, and I have half a mind to finish him. I have not forgotten the cowardly blow he gave me.

"No, I won't stain my hands needlessly with blood," he added. "And, beside, there is not a moment to spare. Some one will be sure to come in search of the ruffian or of Selim. We have safely accomplished the first step. Now for the next."

There was one thing to be done, however, before the prisoners could leave the cell. They cut off more rope, and bound and gagged Safid Pasha, then placed him alongside of Selim.

* * *

Chapter IX

He was still unconscious, and an ugly, swollen lump was on his forehead. His only weapon was a sword, and this was not taken from him.

"Now, then, lads," whispered Godfrey.

He pushed his companions into the corridor, and closed and locked the cell door with one of the keys from Selim's bunch.

On the upper and lower floors all was quiet. As yet Safid Pasha's absence had not aroused suspicion.

Lest some of the nearby cells should be tenanted, the fugitives did not dare to speak as they crept noiselessly along the gloomy corridor.

Twenty feet straight ahead, then an angle, then twenty feet more —- and cell No. 40 was before them. Luckily it was as far removed as possible from the staircase, being in the very rear of the prison.

Godfrey tried one key after another. At the fourth trial the lock turned, and the door grated slowly open.

The dim light from the corridor shone into the cell, revealing a heap of rubbishy odds and ends in the way of rickety furniture and broken weapons.

"It's a regular storeroom," said Arthur. "This stuff must date back to Gordon's time."

"Hush! Not so loud!" warned Godfrey. "Wait here a moment."

He made his way noiselessly to the rear of the cell, and then beckoned the boys inside.

"It's all right," he whispered. "Here's a little iron ladder leading up to a trap in the roof. One of you had better ascend."

"I'll go," volunteered Roden.

"All right," assented Godfrey. "Don't make any noise, and be sure to test each rung before you bear your weight upon it."

Then he slipped back and softly closed the cell door. He could not lock it from the inside, so he put the keys in his pocket.

"Safid Pasha won't be at liberty in a hurry," he reflected, " unless the jailer has duplicate keys, or bursts the door open."

Meanwhile Roden had climbed to the ceiling. In spite of the darkness he found a rusty hook, and tore it from its fastenings by a couple of jerks. Then he slid the door back; and trembled with joy to feel the cool night air, and see the shining stars overhead.

He pulled himself out on the roof, and in a short time his companions were safely beside him.

After listening long enough to make sure that all was quiet beneath them, they softly closed the trap. Then they stood up, and looked eagerly in all directions.

It was a grand and peaceful scene that met their eyes. On four sides stretched the low roofs of the sleeping town, with here and there a twinkling light. The Palace Square —- place of dread associations —- could be plainly made out.

To the right and left flowed the Blue and White Niles, glimmering in the pallid light of a murky fragment of moon. Straight ahead to the north, where the two rivers united, the mightier stream began its eighteen-hundred-mile journey to Cairo and civilization.

Of greater interest to Arthur and Roden was the southward stretch of the White Nile, for somewhere near its remote headwaters they knew their father to be a captive among barbarous savages.

Indeed, they stared so long and earnestly that Godfrey had to recall them to the present.

"It won't do to linger here," he whispered. "At any moment our escape may be discovered. And bear in mind that our mysterious benefactor is waiting for us below."

Arthur approached the low parapet-which was only three or four feet away —- and thrust his head over.

"Do you see anything?" asked Roden.

"No, it's dark as pitch," was the reply.

"So much the better, lads," whispered Godfrey, who had meanwhile been knotting the hempen rope at intervals of a foot.

Now he secured one end to a buttress of the parapet, and let the other end drop down.

"I'll go first," he insisted, in spite of the protests of his companions, "Then I'll be on hand in case either of you should fall."

He secured the rifle to his back, swung over the parapet, and went quickly down hand over hand.

In a short time the boys heard a slight noise, and felt the rope grow slack. Arthur was the next to venture, and then came Roden's turn.

With a fast-beating heart he began the descent, slipping from knot to knot. The rope cut the palms of his hands, and several times he bumped roughly against the wall.

Suddenly the rope ended, and he found himself swinging in the air. Before he could realize what it meant, a pair of strong arms caught him by the waist and lifted him to the ground.

Godfrey and Arthur stood beside him, and to the right and left ran a dark and narrow passage, between high blank walls.

There was no sign of the mysterious stranger.

"He may have gone away, thinking that the plan had failed," whispered Godfrey. "We are behind time on account of Safid Pasha."

"Then we'll have to strike out for ourselves," whispered Arthur. "If we only knew which way was the safest, and ——"

The sentence ended in a little gasp of fright, for at that instant, and as suddenly as though he had risen from the ground, the tall figure of a man appeared beside the fugitives.

"Thank God that you have succeeded," whispered the stranger, in a voice that trembled with emotion, and which was unmistakably English. "I was beginning to despair. I feared lest Selim's courage would falter."

"No; Selim did his part well," replied Godfrey. "It was Safid Pasha who detained us."

In a few words he related the incident.

"That is truly unfortunate," muttered the stranger.

"I had counted upon a start of several hours. Now we are in imminent peril, and must lose no time. This way, my friends."

He led the party a few feet down the passage, and then turned into a dark and narrow archway that had no outlet. He quickly emerged with a huge bundle in his arms. He tore it apart, revealing four spacious Arab cloaks, and the same number of flowing white burnooses.

"Here are disguises that may save our lives," he whispered. "Slip them on at once over your clothes."

The fugitives hastily obeyed, and while so doing they stole curious glances at their unknown friend.

The dim light showed him to be a man of middle age, with dark eyes and hair, a tangled beard and mustache, and features of extraordinary ugliness. Indeed, he reminded the boys of Holly, the impish-looking character in Rider Haggard's "She."

When rigged out in his Arab costume he presented a truly formidable appearance.

,"Sir, you have saved us from a dreadful death," said Godfrey. "No words can express our gratitude. Surely, you are English, like myself?"

"Yes, I am an Englishman," replied the stranger hastily. "My name is Napoleon Bunbury, and I am by profession an aeronaut. This is no time to relate my strange story. Let it suffice to say that I have been a captive at Khartoum for six months. I should hardly say captive, for by pretending to be insane my life was saved, and I was allowed the freedom of the city. You must know that the Arabs, like the Indians of North America, look with pity on all of unsound mind. I played the part well, and thus was enabled to devise this plan for your escape —- and mine as well. Fortunately, I did Selim a service some days since, and he proved willing to return it."

"But could you not have made your escape long ago?" asked Godfrey..

"Yes, had I chosen to go by myself. But I needed companions to assist me in an enterprise of which I shall tell you more later. Your gratitude shall be put to a test possibly, in a trying way. Now let us be off. A boat, stocked with provisions and arms, is waiting at the end of the town."

This was glorious news to Godfrey and the boys, and they felt that their safety was already assured. As they followed their rescuer through the dark thoroughfare, they wondered vaguely what he meant by promising to put their gratitude to a trying test.

A faint doubt of his sanity still lingered obstinately in their minds. His uncouth appearance and pompous manner seemed to strengthen the suspicion. And what could have brought a professional aeronaut to Africa?

But, if Napoleon Bunbury was a lunatic, he was a most shrewd and practical one. He showed his intimate knowledge of the town by leading his companions through a maze of narrow and silent streets.

They were soon far from the prison and the Palace Square. On all sides slept hordes of bloodthirsty ruffians, but fortunately none of them woke up.

From the more populous quarters of the town came vague noises —- the rattle of arms, dull footsteps, of the bawling of drunken voices.. Now and then a cross street showed moving figures in the distance.

It was impossible to keep always in the darkness, for flickering street lamps and patches of moonlight often barred the way.

At such places the fugitives walked boldly and confidently, trusting to their Arab disguises to preserve them from danger.

Bunbury seemed to have something about his person that he was afraid of losing or breaking. He kept one hand constantly under his cloak. He avoided the walls of the houses, and was careful not to come in contact with his companions.

"He acts as though, he was loaded with dynamite bombs," whispered Arthur.

"He know what he's about, depend upon it," Godfrey replied, in a tone of mild rebuke.

Twenty minutes had now gone by, and the fugitives were still in the maze of dingy streets. It was owing to Bunbury's circuitous route that they were not already clear of the town.

"Have we far to go yet?" Godfrey asked.

"But a short distance," whispered Bunbury, turning partly around.

"I'm glad of that," muttered Roden. "If our escape isn't discovered yet, it soon will be."

The words had hardly left his lips when the report of a gun rang loud and sharp from the rear.

The fugitives stopped and looked at one another in mute fear.

Bang! bang! Two more shots rang out instantly. Then a bell began to clang like mad, and from all quarters of the town came a hubbub of shrill voices.

"All is discovered!" cried Godfrey. "Nothing but speed and pluck will save us now."

"Yes," assented Bunbury; "the town will be like a stirred-up hornets' nest in a moment or two. Run, my friends. We must elude the human bloodhounds. If all else fails there is still one resource left."

"To die like men," cried Godfrey, "and with our faces to the foe."

"No; not that," replied Bunbury. "I have here a deadly and terrible instrument ——"

The sentence was never finished, for just then a group of dusky figures tumbled out of the houses directly in the rear. With shrill cries that roused the whole neighborhood,. they dashed swiftly forward.

As yet they probably took the fugitives to be some of their own friends, but they were not long left in ignorance.