"No, no, my friend, a catastrophe so appalling as that cannot be left to
chance, and if it is necessary to blow these fifty thousand fanatics out
of the mouths of guns rather than lay the fate of the world open to
irretrievable ruin, I ... _I will do it_."
"But all this depends on the truthfulness of the Grand Cadi's
story--isn't it so?" asked the Sirdar.
The Consul-General bent his head.
"And the first test of its truthfulness is whether or not these
thousands of Ishmael's followers are an armed force?"
Again the Consul-General bent his head.
"Well," said the Sirdar, rising and throwing away his cigar, "I am bound
to tell you that I see no reason to think they are. More than that, I
will not believe that when our boy took his serious step he would have
sided with this White Prophet if he had suspected that the man's aims
included an attack upon England's power in Egypt, and I cannot imagine
for a moment that he could be fool enough not to know."
Again the Consul-General frowned, but the Sirdar went on firmly.
"I believe he thought and knew that Ishmael Ameer's propaganda was
purely spiritual, the establishment of an era of universal peace and
brotherhood, and that is a world-question having nothing to do with
England or Egypt, or Arab Empires, except so far as----"
But the Consul-General, who was cut to the quick by the Sirdar's praise
of Gordon, could bear no more.
"Only old women of both sexes look for an era of universal peace," he
said testily.
"In that case," replied the Sirdar, "the old women are among the
greatest of mankind--the Hebrew prophets, the prophets of Buddhism, of
Islam, and of Christianity. And if that is going too far, then Abraham
Lincoln and John Bright, and, to come closer home, your own son, as
brave a man as ever drew a sword, a soldier too, the finest young
soldier in the King's service, one who might have risen to any height if
he had been properly handled, instead of being----"
But the old man, whose nostrils were swelling and dilating like the
nostrils of a broken-winded horse, leapt to his feet and stopped him.
"Why will you continue to talk about my son?" he cried. "Do you wish to
torture me? He allowed himself to become a tool in the hands of my
enemies, yet you are accusing me of destroying his career and driving
him away. You are--you know you are!"
"Ah, well! God grant everything may go right to-morrow," said the
Sirdar after a while, and with that he rose to go.
It was now very late, and when Ibrahim, in the hall, with sleepy eyes,
hardly able to keep himself from yawning, opened the outer door, the
horses of the Sirdar's carriage, which had been waiting for nearly an
hour, were heard stamping impatiently on the gravel of the drive.
At the last moment the old man relented.
"Reg," he said, and his voice trembled, "forgive me if I have been rude
to you. I have been hard hit and I must make a fight. I need not
explain. Good-night!" And he had gone back to the library before the
Sirdar could reply.
But after a while the unconquerable spirit and force of the man enabled
him to regain his composure, and before going to bed he went up on to
the roof to take a last look at the enemy he was about to destroy.
There it lay in the distance, more than ever like a great serpent
encircling the city on the south, for there was no moon, the night was
very dark, and the dying fires of the sinuous camp at Sakkara made
patches of white and black like the markings of a mighty cobra.
Fatimah was at his bedroom door, waiting to bring his hot water and to
ask if he wanted anything else.
"Yes, I want you to go to bed," he replied, but the Egyptian woman,
still dallying about the room and speaking with difficulty, wished to
know if it was true, as the black boy had said, that Miss Helena was in
Khartoum and that she had betrothed herself to the White Prophet.
"I don't know and I don't care--go to bed," said the Consul-General.
"Poor Gordon! My poor boy! _Wah_! _Wah_! Everything goes wrong with
him. Yet he hadn't an evil thought in his heart."
"Go to bed, I tell you!"
It was even longer than usual before the Consul-General slept.
He thought of Helena. Where was she now? He had been telling himself
all along that to save appearances she might find it necessary to remain
for a while in Ishmael's camp, but surely she might have escaped by this
time. Could it be possible that she was kept as a prisoner? Was there
anything he ought to do for her?
Then he thought of the speech he was to make in proposing the King's
health the following day, and framed some of the stinging, ironical
sentences with which he meant to lash his enemies to the bone.
Last of all he thought of Gordon, as he always did when he was dropping
off to sleep, and the only regret that mingled with his tingling sense
of imminent triumph was that his son could not be present at the King's
Dinner to see--what he would see!
"Oh, if I could have him there to-morrow night--what I would give for
it!" he thought.
At length the Consul-General slept and his big desolate house was
silent. If any human eye could have looked upon him as he lay on his
bed that night, the old man with his lips sternly set, breathing
fitfully, only the tired body overcome, the troubled brain still
working, it would have been a pitiful thing to think that he who was the
virtual master of millions appeared to be himself the sport of those
inscrutable demons of destiny which seem to toss us about like toys.
His power, his pride, his life-success--what had he gained by them? His
wife dead; his son in revolt against him; alone, enfeebled, duped, and
self-deluded.
God, what a little thing is man! He who for forty years had guided the
ship of State, before whose word Ministers and even Khedives had
trembled, could not see into the dark glass of the first few hours
before him.
Peace to him--until to-morrow!
*CHAPTER XIV*
"SERAI FUM EL KHALIG,
"CAIRO.
"MY DEAREST HELENA,--I am going to that dinner! Yes, as Ishmael Ameer in
the disguise of the Sheikh Omar Benani, chief of the Ababdah, I am to be
one of my father's guests.
"This is the morning of the day of the festivities, and from Hafiz, by
the instrumentality of one who would live or die or give her immortal
soul for me, I have at length learned all the facts of my father's
_coup_.
"Did you ever hear of the incident of the Opera House? Well, this
incident is to be a replica of that, though the parts to be played in
the drama are in danger of being differently cast.
"As this is the last letter I shall be able to send to you before an
event which may decide one way or other the fate of England in Egypt, my
father's fate, Ishmael's, and perhaps yours and mine, I must tell you as
much as I dare commit to paper.
"The British army, as I foresaw from the first, is being brought back to
Cairo. It is to come in to-night as quietly as possible by the last
trains arriving at Calioub. The Consul-General is to go to Ghezirah as
if nothing were about to happen, but at the last moment, when his
enemies have been gathered under one roof--Ministers, Diplomats,
Notables, Ulema--when the operation of their plot has begun, and the
bridge is drawn and the island is isolated, and Ishmael and his vast
following are making ready to enter the city, my father is to speak over
the telephone to the officer commanding at Abbassiah, and then the
soldiers, with fifty rounds of ammunition, are to march into Cairo and
line up in the streets.
"Such is my father's _coup_, and to make sure of the complete success of
it--that Ishmael's following is on the move, and that no conspirator
(myself above all) escapes--he has given orders to the Colonel not to
stir one man out of the barracks until he receives his signal. Well, my
work to-night is to see that he never receives it.
"Already you will guess what I am going to do. I must go to the dinner
in order to do it, for both the central office of the telephone and the
office of the telegraph are now under the roofs of the Ghezirah Palace
and Pavilion.
"I hate to do the damnable thing, but it must be done. It must, it
must! There is no help for it.
"I cannot tell you how hard it is to me to be engaged in a secret means
to frustrate my father's plans--it is like fighting one's own flesh and
blood, and is not fair warfare. Neither can I say what a struggle it
has been to me as an English soldier to make up my mind to intercept an
order of the British army--it is like playing traitor, and I can
scarcely bear to think of it.
"But all the same I _know_ it is necessary. I also know _God_ knows it
is necessary, and when I think of that my heart beats wildly.
"It is necessary to prevent the massacre which I know (and my father
does not) would inevitably ensue; necessary to save my father himself
from the execration of the civilised world; necessary to save Ishmael
from the tragic consequences of his determined fanaticism; necessary to
save England from the possible loss of her Mohammedan dominions, from
being faithless to her duty as a Christian nation, and from the divine
judgment which will overtake her if she wantonly destroys her great fame
as the one Western power that seems designed by Providence to rule and
to guide the Eastern peoples; and necessary above all to save the white
man and the black man from a legacy of hatred that would divide them for
another hundred years and put back the union of races and faiths for
countless centuries.
"If I am not a vain fool this is what I (_D.V._) have got to do, so why
in the name of God need I trouble myself about the means by which I do
it? And if I am the only man who can, I must, or I shall be a coward
skulking out of his plain responsibility, and a traitor not only to
England but to humanity itself.
"God does not promise me success, but I believe I shall succeed. Indeed
I am so sure of success that I feel as if all the recent events of my
life have been leading up to this one. What I felt when I left Cairo
for Khartoum, and again when I left Khartoum for Cairo--that everything
had been governed by higher powers which could not err--I feel now more
than ever.
"If I had delivered myself up to the authorities after your father's
death my life would have been wasted and thrown away. Nay, if I had
obeyed orders over the blunder of El Azhar I should not have been where
I am now--between two high-spirited men who are blindly making for each
other's ruin, and the destruction of all they stand for.
"This reconciles me to everything that has happened, and if I have to
pay the penalty of playing buffer I am ready to do so. I have great
trust that God will bring me out all right, but if that is not His plan,
then so be it. I am willing to give my life for England, whatever name
she may know me by when she comes to see what I have done, and I am
willing to die for these poor Egyptians, because I was born and brought
up among them, and I cannot help loving them.
"Death has no terrors for me anyway. I think the experiences of the
past months have taught me all that death has to teach. In fact I feel
at this moment exactly as I have felt at the last charge in battle,
when, fighting against frightful odds, it has not been a case of every
man for himself, but of God for us all.
"Besides I feel that on the day of your father's death I died to
myself--to my selfish hopes of life, I mean--and if God intends to crush
me in order that I may save my country and these people whom I love and
who love me I really wish and long for Him to do so.
"But _In-sha-allah_! It will be as God pleases, and I believe from the
bottom of my heart that He is working out His wonderful embroidery of
events to a triumphant issue. So don't be afraid, my dear Helena,
whatever occurs to-night. I may be taken, but (_D.V._) I shall not be
taken in disgrace. In any case I feel that my hour has come--the great
hour that I have been waiting for so long.
"This may be the last letter I shall write to you, so I am sending it by
Mosie, lest Hamid should find a difficulty in getting into your camp. I
hope to God you may get it, for I want you to know that my last thoughts
are about yourself.
"Upon my soul, dear, I believe the end will be all right, but if it is
to be otherwise, and we are to be separated, and our lives in this world
are to be wasted, remember that deep love bridges death.
"Remember, too, what you said to me at Khartoum. 'I am a soldier's
daughter,' you said, 'and in my heart I am a soldier's wife as well, and
I shouldn't be worthy to be either if I didn't tell you to do your duty,
whatever the consequences to me.'
"Good-bye, my dear, my dear! If anything happens you will know what to
do. I trust you without fear. I have always trusted you. I can say it
now, at this last moment--never, dearest, never for one instant has the
shadow of a doubt of you entered into my heart. My brave girl, my love,
my life, my Helena!
"May the great God of Heaven bless and protect you!
"GORDON.
"_P.S._--Oh, how the deuce did I forget? There is something for you to
do--something important--and I had almost sent off my letter without
saying anything about it.
"Do you remember that on the day I left Khartoum it was ordered by
Ishmael that after the call of the muezzin to midnight prayers, a light
was to be set up in the minaret of the mosque of Mohammed Ali as a sign
that he might enter the city in peace?
"Well, if I fail and the British army comes into Cairo Ishmael must be
kept out of it. He may be stubborn--a man who thinks God guides and
protects him and makes a special dispensation for him is not easy to
dissuade--but if the light does not appear he _must_ be restrained.
"That is your work with Ishmael--why you are with him still. I knew it
would be revealed to us some day. Once more, my dear, my dear, God bless
and protect you!"
*CHAPTER XV*
"UNDER THE PYKAMIDS.
"MY DEAR GORDON,--Your letter has not yet reached me. What has
happened? Has your messenger been caught? Who was it? Was it Hamid?
"Not having heard from you, I was of course compelled to come on with
the camp and therefore I am with it still. We are under the shadow of
the pyramids, with the mud-built village of Sakkara by our side and
Cairo in front of us, beyond the ruins of old Memphis and across a
stretch of golden sand.
"This is, it seems, the day of 'the King's Dinner,' and at sunset when
the elephant-horn was blown for the last time we gathered for prayers
under a sea-blue sky on the blood-red side of the Step Pyramid.
"It was a splendid, horrible, inspiring, depressing, devilish, divine
spectacle. First, Ishmael recited from the Koran the chapter about the
Prophet's great vision (the Surat er Russoul, I think), while the people
on their knees in the shadow, with the sun slanting over their heads,
shouted their responses. Then in rapturous tones he spoke, and though I
was on the farthest verge of the vast crowd I heard nearly all he said.
"They had reached their journey's end, and had to thank God who had
brought them so far without the loss of a single life. Soon they were
to go into Cairo, the Mecca of the new world, but they were to enter it
in the spirit of love, not hate, of peace, not war, doing violence to
none and raising no rebellion. What said the Holy Koran? 'Whosoever
among Moslems, Christians or Jews believe in God and in another life
shall be rewarded.'
"Therefore let no man think they were come to turn the Christians out of
Egypt. They were there on a far higher errand--to turn the devil out of
the world! The intolerance and bitterness of past ages had been the
product of hatred and darkness. The grinding poverty and misery of the
present age was the result of a false faith and civilisation. But they
were come to bring universal peace, universal brotherhood, and universal
religion to all nations and races and creeds--one State, one Faith, one
Law, one God!
"Cairo was the gate to the East. It was also the gate to the West. He
who held the keys of that gate was master of the world. Who, then,
should hold them but God's own, His Guided One, His Expected One, His
Christ?
"More and yet more of this kind Ishmael said in his thrilling, throbbing
voice, and of course the people greeted every sentence with shouts of
joy. And then finally, pointing to the minarets of the mosque of
Mohammed Ali, far off on the Mokattam hills, he told them that at
midnight, after the call to prayers, a light was to shine there, and
they were to take it for a sign that they might enter Cairo without
injury to any and with goodwill towards all.
"'Watch for that light, O my brothers! It will come! As surely as the
sun will rise on you to-morrow, that light will shine on you to-night!'
"It is now quite dark and the camp is in a delirious state of
excitement. The scene about my tent is simply terrifying. At one side
there is an immense Zikr, with fifty frantic creatures crying 'Allah!'
to a leader who in wild guttural tones is reciting the ninety-nine
attributes of God. At the other side there is a huge fire at which a
group of men, having slaughtered a sheep, are boiling it in a cauldron,
with many pungent herbs, that they may feast and rejoice together in
honour of the coming day. People are sitting in circles and singing
hymns of victory; tambourines, kettle-drums, and one-stringed lutes are
being played everywhere, and strolling singers are going about from fire
to fire making up songs that describe Ishmael's good looks, and good
deeds, and his 'divinity'--the wildest ditty being the most applauded.
"Where Ishmael himself is I do not know, but he must indeed be carried
away by religious ecstasy if he is not trembling at the mere thought of
to-morrow morning. What is to happen if these 'Allah-intoxicated Arabs'
have to meet five thousand British bayonets? Or, supposing you can
obviate that, what is to occur when they are compelled to realise that
all their high-built hopes are in the dust? O God! O God!