Decidedly, it was no child's play to be
'taken prisoner by the Mahdi'. And Gordon was actually there,
among those people, in closest intercourse with them,
responsible, beloved. Yes; no doubt. But was that in truth, his
only motive? Did he not wish in reality, by lingering in
Khartoum, to force the hand of the Government? To oblige them,
whether they would or no, to send an army to smash up the Mahdi?
And was that fair? Was THAT his duty? He might protest, with his
last breath, that he had 'tried to do his duty'; Sir Evelyn
Baring, at any rate, would not agree.
But Sir Evelyn Baring was inaudible, and Gordon now cared very
little for his opinions. Is it possible that, if only for a
moment, in his extraordinary predicament, he may have listened to
another and a very different voice--a voice of singular quality,
a voice which--for so one would fain imagine--may well have
wakened some familiar echoes in his heart? One day, he received a
private letter from the Mahdi. The letter was accompanied by a
small bundle of clothes. 'In the name of God!' wrote the Mahdi,
'herewith a suit of clothes, consisting of a coat (jibbeh), an
overcoat, a turban, a cap, a girdle, and beads. This is the
clothing of those who have given up this world and its vanities,
and who look for the world to come, for everlasting happiness in
Paradise.
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