h their swords till all were killed, Hicks
Pasha being the last to fall. The lad himself hid among the dead and
was not discovered until the next morning, when he was made a slave by
the man who found him.

This was terrible! But there was still hope. If this boy had concealed
himself among the dead, her husband might have done the same. Not being
a combatant officer, he might not have been near the others when the
affair took place; and moreover, the lad had said that the black
regiment in the rear of the square had kept together and marched away;
he believed all had been afterwards killed, but this he did not know.
If Gregory had been there when the square was broken, he might well
have kept with them, and at nightfall slipped on his disguise and made
his escape. It was at least possible--she would not give up all hope.

So years went on. Things were quiet in Egypt. A native army had been
raised there, under the command of British officers, and these had
checked the northern progress of the Mahdists and restored confidence
in Egypt. Gregory--for the boy had been named after his father--grew up
strong and hearty. His mother devoted her evenings to his education.
From the Negress, who was his nurse and the general servant of the
house, he had learnt to talk her native language. She had been carried
off, when ten years old, by a slave-raiding party, and sold to an
Egyptian trader at Khartoum; been given by him to an Atbara chief, with
whom he had dealings; and, five years later, had been captured in a
tribal war by the Jaalin. Two or three times she had changed masters,
and finally had been purchased by an Egyptian officer, and brought down
by him to Cairo. At his death, four years afterwards, she had been
given her freedom, being now past fifty, and had taken service with
Gregory Hilliard and his wife. Her vocabulary was a large one, and she
was acquainted with most of the dialects of the Soudan tribes.

From the time when her husband was first missing, Mrs. Hilliard
cherished the idea that, some day, the child might grow up and search
for his father; and, perhaps, ascertain his fate beyond all doubt. She
was a very conscientious woman, and was resolved that, at whatever pain
to herself, she would, when once certain of her husband's death, go to
England and obtain recognition of his boy by his family. But it was
pleasant to think that the day was far distant when she could give up
hope. She saw, too, that if the Souda