The
root of the malady lay in the slave-markets of Cairo and
Constantinople: the supply followed the demand. Gordon, after
years of labour, might here and there stop up a spring or divert
a tributary, but, somehow or other the waters would reach the
river-bed. In the end, he himself came to recognise this. 'When
you have got the ink that has soaked into blotting-paper out of
it,' he said, 'then slavery will cease in these lands.' And yet
he struggled desperately on; it was not for him to murmur. 'I
feel my own weakness, and look to Him who is Almighty, and I
leave the issue without inordinate care to Him.'
Relief came at last. The Khedive Ismail was deposed; and Gordon
felt at liberty to send in his resignation. Before he left
Egypt, however, he was to experience yet one more remarkable
adventure. At his own request, he set out on a diplomatic
mission to the Negus of Abyssinia. The mission was a complete
failure. The Negus was intractable, and, when his bribes were
refused, furious. Gordon was ignominiously dismissed; every
insult was heaped on him; he was arrested, and obliged to
traverse the Abyssinian Mountains in the depth of winter under
the escort of a savage troop of horse. When, after great
hardships and dangers, he reached Cairo, he found the whole
official world up in arms against him.
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