IN DESERT AND WILDERNESS
I
"Do you know, Nell," said Stas Tarkowski to his friend, a little English girl, "that yesterday the police came and arrested the wife of Smain, the overseer, and her three children,—that Fatma who several times called at the office to see your father and mine."
And little Nell, resembling a beautiful picture, raised her greenish eyes to Stas and asked with mingled surprise and fright:
"Did they take her to prison?"
"No, but they will not let her go to the Sudân and an official has arrived who will see that she does not move a step out of Port Said."
"Why?"
Stas, who was fourteen years old and who loved his eight-year-old companion very much, but looked upon her as a mere child, said with a conceited air:
"When you reach my age, you will know everything which happens, not only along the Canal from Port Said to Suez, but in all Egypt. Have you ever heard of the Mahdi?"
"I heard that he is ugly and naughty."
The boy smiled compassionately.
"I do not know whether he is ugly. The Sudânese claim that he is handsome. But the word 'naughty' about a man who has murdered so many people, could be used only
