hiding in the gardens, and that I was to try and effect a meeting with him. The man was Hawanein. Always suspicious of traps laid for me by the Khaleefa, I asked the man what he wanted. He replied that he had come from friends to help me. He had brought no letters, but by questioning him my suspicions disappeared, and I was soon deep in the discussion of plans for my escape. The camels he had brought with him were, he said, not up to the work of a rapid flight, and he suggested that he should return to Assouan, procure two good trotting camels, and also the couple of revolvers I asked for, as it was more than likely I should have to use them in getting clear of Khartoum.
Soon after Hawanein's departure, the guide Abdallah, who brought away Rossignoli, put in his appearance. Ahmed Wad-el-Feki, employed in Marquet's old garden, asked that I might be allowed to call and see a sick man at his house. On reaching the place, Feki introduced me to a young man, Abdallah, who, after a few words, asked me to meet him the following day, when he would bring me a letter. I met my "patient" again, when he handed me a bit of paper on which faint marks were discernible; these, he said, would come out clear upon heating the paper, and, as cauterization is one of the favourite remedies in the Soudan, some live charcoal was procured without exciting any suspicion. The words, which appeared, proved that the man was no spy, but had really come from the Egyptian War Office; however, before we had time to drop into a discussion of plans, some men employed in the place
