ad tried to get a word with Slatin,
but that was dangerous for them both--most dangerous for Slatin, who
was now the servant of the Khalifa Abdullah himself. Slatin was always
suspected, and was therefore watched carefully; but the Khalifa knew
that Macnamara had no chance to escape, for he had no friends in Cairo,
no money, and no more could have bought a camel than a kingdom. Escaping
from the city itself, he could but die in the desert.

He had only one Arab friend--little Mahommed Nafar the shoemaker. The
shoemaker was friendly to him for a great kindness done in the days when
they both lived in Khartoum and ere the Arab deserted to the camp of the
Mahdi. But what help could Mahommed Nafar give him unless he had money?
With plenty of money the shoemaker might be induced to negotiate with
Arab merchants coming from Dongola or Berber into Omdurman to get
camels, and arrange an escape down the desert to Wady Halfa; but where
was the money to come from?

One day, at a great review, when the roar of the drums rivalled the
hoarse shouts of the Mahdists, and the Baggaras, for a diversion, looted
one quarter of the town, Macnamara was told by his master that Slatin
had been given by the Khalifa to Mahommed Sherif, and was going to
Darfur. As a kind of farewell barbecue, whether or not intended by the
Khalifa as a warning to his departing general, ten prisoners had their
feet and hands cut off in the Beit-el-Mal, and five lost their heads as
well as their hands and feet.

"It makes my blood run cold," said Slatin softly in English, as
Macnamara passed him, walking at his master's stirrup.

"Mine's boilin', sir!" answered Macnamara.

Slatin's eyes took on a more cheerful look than they usually carried,
for it was many a day since he had been addressed with respect, and the
"sir" touched a mellow chord within him--memory of the days when he
was Governor of Darfur. Suddenly he saw the Khalifa's eyes fixed on
Macnamara, and the look, for a wonder, was not unfriendly. It came
to him that perhaps the Khalifa meant to take Macnamara for his own
servant, for it flattered his vanity to have a white man at his stirrup
and on his mat. He knew that the Khalifa was only sending himself to
Darfur that he might be a check upon Mahommed Sherif. He did not think
that Macnamara's position would be greatly bettered, save perhaps in
bread and onions, by being taken into the employ of the Khalifa. His
life would certainly not be safer. But,