CHAPTER XIX.

FROM M. PÉRIÈRES TO M. DE POMMERELLE.

"Even for a man habitually unjust, you are the most unjust man I know. Our two friends chat to you in the most genial manner possible about all their little affairs; in your society they rest from the cares of the voyage; they do their best to forget their annoyances, and, I may as well confess it, a certain amount of apprehension, which the very bravest of us cannot help experiencing when on the eve of what very probably may turn out to be a series of hazardous adventures. They turn their eyes from the horizon, where already ominous dark clouds are gathering, sit themselves down in spirit once more in your smoking-room, in the very heart of Paris, and, whilst chatting of this, that, and the other, imagine themselves, for the moment, to be there in reality.

"As far as I am concerned, I reasoned with myself that, if you had never travelled, you had read quite enough to make any account of Lyons, Marseilles, Alexandria and Cairo stale news to you, and so, instead of sending you a hash, made up of old scraps, I gave you a _resumé_ of the trip, after the African manner, in order to accustom myself to that facetious style.

"You neither appreciated this delicate attention on my part, nor made any allowances for the exigences of the case as regarded de Morin and Delange. In your inconsiderate way, you snatch up a pen, and hurl the most terrible threats against three poor devils who are about to offer up their lives as a sacrifice to science and geography.

"But, most inexorable of tyrants, you have us in your power. We cannot do without cigars, and so we surrender at discretion.

"Do you know, first of all, where I am at this present moment? I am neither in a hotel, nor in a room, nor under a tent, nor on land, nor on the Nile. I am out at sea—the Red one, on board a steamer belonging to the Medschidieh Company of Egypt, and am on my way to Souakim, a port of some importance, situated midway between Suez and Aden, on the west coast, that is to say, on the same side as Egypt and Nubia, I trust that you will, at all events do me the honour of following me on the map. Get the one by Brué—it is about the best, though it leaves much to be desired. The German map of Stieler, of Gotha, '_Mittel und nord Africa (ostlicher theil)_', which, being interpreted, is, 'Nothern and Central Africa (eastern portion),' is far more complete, but you would lose yourself amongst all the German names. It requires a certain amount of skill to understand the French maps, whereon the names of towns, tribes, villages, rivers and mountains are inscribed in half-a-dozen different ways. Sometimes, even, there is not the slightest resemblance between two names given to the same place. For instance, the town of Berber, where we shall once more join the Nile, is called on some maps, El-Mecheref. If you can recognise Berber under that name, you are far cleverer than I am.

"But I am wandering. I was telling you that we were proceeding by sea towards Souakim, whence we shall go by land to Berber, and then up the Nile by Chendy, as far as Khartoum. Why, you will ask, did we select that route? For many reasons, but principally because it is the shortest, and offers great advantages in the way of security. In a week at the most, we may expect, in spite of having to call in at several places on the coast, to be at the first-named port. We shall there be within two or three degrees of the latitude of Khartoum. We shall thus have accomplished in eight days, a distance which, even in good seasons, takes at least six weeks, sometimes even two months, if the journey is made by steamer up the Nile.

"But, you will say, you will have to get from Souakim to Berber before you can talk of Khartoum. You are quite right; but the distance from the sea to the Nile is only about two hundred miles, which we shall do on camels, and it will serve to season us. We shall also have to cross several ranges where the air is most salubrious, and, consequently, we shall reach Berber in good condition, in capital training, as Madame de Guéran would say, and able, by means of these gradual transitions, to stand the heat of Central Africa. That portion of the Nile which we shall have to navigate between Berber and Khartoum is exceedingly interesting, and we shall have the opportunity, not given to all the world, and least of all to you, of gazing upon the famous Pyramids of Meröe and the sixth great cataract. We, you see, commence with the sixth; we suppress the first five; it is a way we have. This part of our journey will occupy fifteen days at the outside, perhaps only eight, if we have the wind with us.

"We shall thus set aside all the wonders of the Egyptian Nile—Siout, the mountains of the Libyan chain, ancient Thebes, Luxor, Karnak, and the island of Philœ. But, then, so many travellers have descanted on these celebrated spots! Let me recommend you to read the 'Valley of the Nile,' a very notable work by Henri Cammas and Andre Lefèvre.

"Excuse me for a moment. The awning over the poop, under which I am now writing, does not shelter me sufficiently from the heat. I am stifled, and I am going to disport myself in a huge tub in the forepart of the ship. If, after that, I feel better, I will take up my pen once more when the sun goes down."

* * * * *

"It was a capital idea of mine to leave you to yourself. My affection for the cold water system has brought me a slice of good luck, for I have just seen—but I am heading the fox. After emerging from my tub, I was just putting the finishing touches to my toilet, when it seemed to me that I heard a sigh, a sort of plaintive breathing, or, rather, the long drawn-out respiration of a woman who is just awaking out of sleep and giving a good stretch. What did it mean? The three female Nubian attendants, whom Madame de Guéran hired at Cairo, sleep below there, near the engine—I can see them now. The Baroness herself, reclining on the poop, is chatting with our companions, and there are no other women on board. Is Africa already exercising a misleading influence over me? Have I come to such a pass that I cannot distinguish between a woman's sigh and the grunt of an able-bodied seaman? Impossible—for a time, at all events, I am in full possession of all my faculties.

"Another sigh. This time I am not mistaken. It came from close to and below me, so that the hold must be inhabited.

"I stoop down, put my ear close to the deck, and listen. Yes, the same sighs, the same gentle breathing, with something about it very sweet and plaintive. I must find out the key to the enigma!

"I look before me and behind me. I seek some opening, some hatchway which will lead from this part of the vessel into the hold. Not a hole of any kind. I see only, a few paces distant, the large hatchway, 18 feet square, opening into the main hold, but the hatches, over which huge tarpaulins are spread, are down, and an entrance by that way is impossible.

"And yet, that there are living souls in that cavern beneath my feet is beyond a doubt. How on earth do they breathe? By the port-holes in the sides of the ship, of course, and I never noticed them when I came on board.

"Now for it. Let me examine the outside of the steamer. It is an exercise worthy of the leading spirit of a Gymnastic Society. Nobody sees me. All the sailors, the Captain included, are either snoozing or sound asleep; the engineers and stokers, half-suffocated in their oven, are not thinking of me, and my friends are watching the sunset. Besides, the screen hung up to hide our _al fresco_ bath-room, will hide my movements too.

"In two bounds I was over the netting—I seized hold of a rope, swung myself under the bowsprit, and cast a rapid glance over the sides of the ship. I was right. Two small port-holes were open on each side of me, and from them had escaped the sighs which had reached my ears.

"With my hands I clung to the gunwale of the ship, crept round to the right towards the nearest port-hole, let go of the gunwale in order to grasp a rope which I had taken care to fasten round the capstan, let myself down about a yard, and put my head into the open port-hole.

"Ah! my dear fellow, if you could only have seen the sight that greeted my inquisitive eyes——."