by G. A. Henty
" However, as it was, your father resented his tone, and what had been merely a difference of opinion became a serious quarrel, and they never saw each other afterwards. It was a great grief to me, and it was owing to that, and his being unable to earn his living in England, that your father brought me out here. I believe he would have done well at home, though it would have been a hard struggle. At that time I was very delicate, and was ordered by the doctors to go to a warm climate, and therefore your father accepted a position of a kind which at least enabled us to live, and obtained for me the benefit of a Avarm climate. Then the chance came of his going up to the Soudan, and there was a certainty that if the expedition succeeded, as everyone believed it would, he would have obtained permanent rank in the Egyptian army, and so recovered the position in life that he had voluntarily given up for my sake."
"And what was the illness you had, Mother?"
"It was an affection of the lungs, dear; it was a constant cough that threatened to turn to consumption, which is one of the most fatal diseases we have in England."
" But it hasn't cured you, Mother, for I often hear you coughing at night."
"Yes, my cough has been a little troublesome of late, Gregory."
Indeed from the time of the disaster to the expedition of Hicks Pasha, Annie Hilliard had lost ground. She herself was conscious of it, but except for the sake of the boy she had not troubled over it. She had not altogether given up hope, but the hope grew fainter and fainter as the years went on. Had it not been for the promise to her husband not to mention his real name or to make any application to his father unless absolutely assured of his death, she would, for Gregory's sake, have written to Mr. Hartley, and asked for help that would have enabled her to take the boy home to England and have him properly educated there. But she had an implicit faith in the binding of a promise so made, and as long as she was not driven by absolute want to apply to Mr. Hartley, was determined to keep to it.
A year after this conversation Gregory was sixteen. Now tall and strong, he had for some time past been anxious to obtain some employment that would enable his mother to give up her teaching. Some of this, indeed, she had been obliged to relinquish. During the past few months her cheeks had become hollow, and her cough was now frequent by day as well as by night. She had consulted an English doctor, who, she saw by the paper, was staying at Shepherd's Hotel. He had hesitated before giving a direct opinion, but on her imploring him to tell her the exact state of her health, said gently: "I am afraid, madam, that I can give you no hope of recovery; one lung has already gone, the other is very seriously diseased. Were you living in England I should say that your life might be prolonged by taking you to a warm climate, but as it is, no change could be made for the better."
"Thank you, doctor; I wanted to know the exact truth and be able to make my arrangements accordingly. I was quite convinced that my condition was hopeless, but I thought it right to consult a physician, and to know how much time I could reckon on. Can you tell me that?"
"That is always difficult, Mrs. Hilliard. It may be three months hence; it might be more speedily—a vessel might give way in the lungs suddenly. On the other hand, you might live six months. Of course I cannot say how rapid the progress of the disease has been."
" It may not be a week, doctor. I am not at all afraid of hearing your sentence—indeed I can see it in your eyes."
"It may be within a week"—the doctor bowed his head gravely,—" it may be at any time."
"Thank you!" she said quietly; "I was sure it could not be long. I have been teaching, but three weeks ago I had to give up my last pupil. My breath is so short that the slightest exertion brings on a fit of coughing."
On her return home she said to Gregory: "My dear boy, you must have seen—you cannot have helped seeing—that my time is not long here. I have seen an English doctor to-day, and he says the end may come at any moment."
"Oh, Mother, Mother!" the lad cried, throwing himself on his knees and burying his face in her lap, " don't say so!"
The news, indeed, did not come as a surprise to him. He had for months noticed the steady change in her: how her face had fallen away, how her hands seemed nerveless, her flesh transparent, and her eyes grew larger and larger. Many times he had walked far up among the hills, and when beyond the reach of human eye, thrown himself down and cried unrestrainedly until his strength seemed utterly exhausted, and yet the verdict now given seemed to come as a sudden blow.
"You must not break down, dear," she said quietly. "For months I have felt that it was so, and but for your sake I did not care to live. I thank God that I have been spared to see you growing up all that I could wish; and though I should have liked to see you fairly started in life, I feel that you may now make your way unaided. Now I want, before it is too late, to give you instructions. In my desk you will find a sealed envelope. It contains a copy of the registers of my marriage and of your birth. These will prove that your father married and had a son. You can get plenty of witnesses who can prove that you were the child mentioned. I promised your father that I would not mention our real name to anyone until it was necessary for me to write to your grandfather. I have kept that promise. His name was Gregory Hilliard, so we have not taken false names. They were his Christian names; the third name, his family name, you will find when you open that envelope.
" I have been thinking for months past what you had best do, and this is my advice, but do not look upon it as an order. You are old enough to think for yourself. You know that Sir Herbert Kitchener, the Sirdar, is pushing his way up the Nile I have no doubt that with your knowledge of Arabic and of the language used by the black race in the Soudan, you will be able to obtain some sort of post in the army, perhaps as an interpreter to one of the officers commanding a brigade—the same position, in fact, as your father had, except that the army is now virtually British, whereas that he went with was Egyptian. I have two reasons for desiring this. I do not wish you to go home until you are in a position to dispense with all aid from your family. I have done without it, and I trust that you will be able to do the same. I should like you to be able to go home at one-and-twenty and to say to your grandfather,I have not come home to ask for money or assistance of any kind. I am earning my living honourably. I only ask recognition by my family as my father's son.'
" It is probable that this expedition will last fully two years. It must be a gradual advance, and even then, if the Khalifa is beaten, it must be a considerable time before matters are thoroughly settled. There will be many civil posts open to those who, like yourself, are well acquainted with the language of the country, and if you can obtain one of these you may well remain there until you come of age. You can then obtain a few months' leave of absence and go to England. My second reason is, that although my hope that your father is still alive has almost died out, it is just possible that he is, like Neufeld and some others, a prisoner in the Khalifa's hands, or possibly living as an Arab cultivator near El Obeid. Many prisoners will be taken, and from some of these we may learn such details of the battle as may clear us of the darkness that hangs over your father's fate.
" When you do go home, Gregory, you had best go first to } r our father's brother. His address is on a paper in the envelope. He was heir to a peerage, and has, perhaps, now come into it. I have no reasons for supposing that he sided with his father against yours. The brothers were not bad friends, although they saw little of each other, for your father after he left Oxford was for the most part away from England until a year before his marriage, and at that time your uncle was in America, having gone out with two or three others on a hunting expedition among the Rocky Mountains. There is therefore no reason for supposing that he will receive you otherwise than kindly when once he is sure that you are his nephew. He may, indeed, for aught I know, have made efforts to discover your father after he returned from abroad."
"I would rather leave them alone altogether, Mother," Gregory said passionately.
" That you cannot do,
my boy. Your father was anxious that you should be at least recognized, and afterwards bear your proper name. You will not be going as a beggar, and there will be nothing humiliating. As to your grandfather, he may not even be alive. It is seldom that I see an English newspaper, and even had his death been advertised in one of the papers I should hardly have noticed it, as I never did more than just glance at the principal items of news. In my desk you will also see my bank-book. It is in your name; I have thought it better that it should stand so, as it will save a great deal of trouble should anything happen to me. Happily, I have never had any reasons to draw upon it, and there are now about five hundred and fifty pounds standing to your credit. Of late you have generally paid in the money, and you are personally known to the manager. Should there be any difficulty, I have made a will leaving everything to you. That sum will keep you, if you cannot obtain the employment we speak of, until you come of age, and will at any rate facilitate your getting employment with the army, as you will not be obliged to demand much pay, and can take anything that offers.
"Another reason for your going to England is that your grandfather may, if he is dead, have relented at last towards your father, and may have left him some share in his fortune; and although you might well refuse to accept any help from him if he is alive, you can have no hesitation in taking that which should be yours by right. I think sometimes now, my boy, that I have been wrong in not accepting the fact of your father's death as proved, and taking you home to England, but you will believe that I acted for the best, and I shrank from the thought of going home as a beggar while I could maintain you and myself comfortably here."
" You were quite right, Mother dear. We have been very happy, and I have been looking forward to the time when I might work for you as you have worked for me. It has been a thousand times better so than living on the charity of a man who looked down upon you, and who cast off my father."
"Well, you will believe at least that I acted for the best, dear, and I am not sure that it has not been for the best. At any rate I, too, have been far happier than I could have been if living in England on an allowance begrudged to me."
A week later Gregory was awakened by the cries of the negro servant, and, running to Mrs. Milliard's bedroom, found that his mother had passed away during the night. Burial speedily follows death in Egypt, and on the following day Gregory returned heart-broken to his lonely house after seeing her laid in her grave. For a week he did nothing but wander about the house listlessly. Then with a great effort he roused himself. He had his work before him—had his mother's wishes to carry out. His first step was to go to the bank and ask to see the manager.
"You may have heard of my mother's death, Mr. Murray?" he said.
"Yes, my lad, and sorry indeed I was to hear of it. She was greatly liked and respected by all who knew her."
" She told me," Gregory went on, trying to steady his voice, "a week before her death that she had money here deposited in my name."
" That is so."
" Is there anything to be done about it, sir?"
" Not unless you wish to draw it out. She told me some time ago why she placed it in your name, and I told her that there would be no difficulty."
" I do not want to draw any of it out, sir, as there were fifty pounds in the house. She was aware that she had not long to live, and no doubt kept it by her on purpose."
" Then all you have to do is to write your signature on this piece of paper. I will hand you a cheque-book, and you will only have to fill up a cheque and sign it, and draw out any amount you please."
"I have never seen a cheque-book, sir; will you kindly tell me what I should have to do?"
Mr. Murray took out a cheque-book and explained its use Then he asked what Gregory thought of doing.
"I wish to go up with the Nile expedition, sir; it was my mother's wish also that I should do so. My main object is to endeavour to obtain particulars of my father's death, and to assure myself that he was one of those who fell at El Obeid. I do not care in what capacity I go up; but as I speak Arabic and Soudanese as well as English, my mother thought that I might get employment as interpreter, either under an officer engaged on making the railway or in some capacity under an officer in one of the Egyptian regiments."
" I have no doubt that I can help you there, lad. I know the Sirdar and a good many of the British officers, for whom I act as agent. Of course I don't know in what capacity they could employ you, but surely some post or other could be found for you where your knowledge of the language would render you very useful. Naturally the officers in the Egyptian service all understand enough of the language to get on with, but few of the officers in the British regiments do. It is fortunate that you came to-day. I have an appointment with Lord Cromer to-morrow morning, so I will take the opportunity of speaking to him. As it is an army affair, and as your father was in the Egyptian service, and your mother had a pension from it, I may get him to interest himself in the matter. Kitchener is down here at present, and if Cromer would speak to him I should think you would certainly be able to get up, though I cannot say in what position. The fact that you are familiar with the negro language, which differs very widely from that of the Arab Soudan tribes, who all speak Arabic, is strongly in your favour, and may give you an advantage over applicants who can only speak Arabic. I shall see Lord Cromer at ten, and shall probably be with him for an hour. You may as well be outside his house at half-past ten; possibly he ma}' like to see you. At any rate, when I come down I can tell you what he says." With grateful thanks Gregory returned home.
CHAPTER IV
AN APPOINTMENT
SOON after ten next morning Gregory took up his place near the entrance to Lord Cromer's house. It was just eleven when Mr. Murray came down.
"Come in with me," he said; "Lord Cromer will see you. He acknowledged at once, when I told him your story, that you had a strong claim for employment. The only point was as to your age. I told him that you were past sixteen, and a strong, active fellow, and that you had had a good physical training."
They had now entered the house. "Don't be nervous, Hilliard; just talk to him as you would to me. Many a good man has lost an appointment from being nervous and embarrassed when he applied for it."
" You want to go up to the Soudan ?" Lord Cromer said.
" Yes, sir."
" Mr. Murray has told me your reasons for wanting to go. Though I fear it is hardly likely that any new light can be thrown upon the fate of Hicks Pasha and his officers, I feel that it is a natural desire on your part."
" It was my mother's last wish, sir, and she took particular pains in my training and education to fit me for the work."
"You speak Arabic and the tongue of the negro blacks almost as well as English?"
"Yes, sir; Arabic quite as well, and the other nearly as well, I think."
"What sort of post did you hope to get, Mr. Hilliard?"
"Any post for which I may be thought fit, sir. I do not care at all about pay; my mother saved sufficient to keep me for two or three years. I would rather enlist than not go up at all, though I fear I am too young to be accepted; but I am quite ready to turn my hand to anything."
" If it concerned the Egyptian government or a civil appointment I would certainly exert my influence in your favour, but this expedition is in the hands of the military. However, if you will take a seat in the ante-room, and do not mind waiting there for an hour or two, I will see what can be done."
" Thank you very much indeed, sir."
Mr. Murray, as they went out together, said: " I think that you have made a good impression. He told me before that it was a matter for Sir Herbert Kitchener, and that he was expecting him in a quarter of an hour. Come and tell me the result when you leave."
Ten minutes later a tall man, whom Gregory recognized at once as Sir Herbert Kitchener, whose figure was well known in Cairo, passed through the room, all who were sitting there rising to their feet as he did so. He acknowledged the salute mechanica
lly, as if scarcely conscious of it. An hour later a bell was rung, and an attendant went into the room. He returned directly.
"Mr. Hilliard," he said. Gregory rose and passed through the door held open. Kitchener was sitting at the table with Lord Cromer. His keen glance seemed to Gregory to take him in from head to foot, and then to look at something far beyond him.
"This is Mr. Hilliard," Lord Cromer said, "the young gentleman I have spoken of."
"You want to go up?" the general said shortly, in Arabic.
"Yes, sir."
"You do not mind in what capacity you go?"
"No, sir; I am ready to do anything."
"To work on the railway or in the transport?"
"Yes, sir. Though I would rather not be on the railway, for the railway cannot get on as fast as the troops; but I would enlist in one of the English regiments if they would take me."
"And you speak the language of the Nubian blacks'?" The question was put in that language.
"Yes; I do not think I speak it quite as well as Arabic, but I speak it fairly."
"Do you think that you could stand the fatigue—no child's play, you know?"
" I can only say that I hope I can, sir. I have been accustomed to take long walks, and spend an hour a day in gymnastic exercises, and I have had lessons in fencing."
" Can you use a pistol ?"