CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
MILES IS PROMOTED--MOLLOY OVERTHROWS THE MAHDI, AND IS ELEVATED FOR SODOING.
Next day Miles Milton became painfully aware of the fact that his lifein captivity was not to be one of ease or idleness.
Soon after daybreak the door of his prison creaked on its ponderoushinges, and he started up from the mat on which he had slept withoutcovering of any kind. His visitor was the Mahdi's runner, who, afterclosing the door, came and sat down beside him, cross legged _a la_ Turkand tailor.
For a brief space the handsome black stared steadily at Miles, whoreturned the compliment as steadily, not being sure whether curiosity orinsolence lay at the foundation of the stare.
"Englishmin," said the runner at last, "you is unfortnit."
"I am indeed," returned Miles; "at the same time I am fortunate in sounexpectedly finding one who recognises the fact, and who can tell me soin my own tongue. May I venture to hope that you are friendly towardsme?"
"Yes; I am your friend, but my friendness can do for you not'ing. Likeyouself, I am captive--slave. But in my own land I was a chief, andfriend of the great and good Gordon, so I is friend to all Englishmin.Once I was 'terpreter to Gordon, but the Mahdi came. I fell into hishands, and now I do run befront his horse, an' hold de stirrup! I comesto you from the Mahdi wid bad news."
"Indeed! But I need not wonder. You could scarcely come from him withgood news. What have you to tell?"
"The Mahdi has made you his runner," answered the negro.
"That is strange news rather than bad, is it not?"
"No; it is bad. He do dis 'cause he hate you. Somehow you has angerhim. He say he will tame you. He try to tame _me_," said the negro,with sudden and tremendous ferocity, "an' him t'ink he do it! But Ionly waits my chance to kill him.
"Now he send me again to dirty work, an' put you in my place to humbleyou--to insult you before every one, who will say, `Look! de boldChristin dog lick de dust now, an' hold de Mahdi's stirrup.'"
"This is indeed bad news. But how is it that you, who seem to be free,do not use your opportunity to escape? I saw you holding the Mahdi'shorse. It seems to be a splendid one. Why did you not jump on its backand fly?"
The runner frowned, and then, changing his mood, smiled sadly.
"You is young," he said, "and knows not'ing. At night I am locked uplike yourself. In de day-time de city is full of enemies, who all knowsme. Do you t'ink dey will salute, and say, `Go in peace,' to de runnerof de Mahdi when he is running away with his best horse?"
"Perhaps not," said Miles, "but I would try if I were you."
"You will be me very soon," returned the runner, "and you can try. Idid try--twice. I was caught both times and beat near to death. But Idid not die! I learn wisdom; and now I submit and wait my chance tokill him. If you is wise you begin _at once_ to submit and wait too."
"There is truth in what you say," rejoined Miles, after a few minutes'thought. "I will take your advice and submit and wait, but only tillthe opportunity to escape offers. I would not murder the man even if Ihad the chance."
"Your words remind me of de good Gordon. He was not vengeful. He lovedGod," said the runner, in a low and very different tone. "But," headded, "Gordon was a white man. He did not--could not--understand defeelings of de black chief."
As the last remark opened up ground which Miles was not prepared totraverse, he made no rejoinder but asked the runner what the Mahdirequired of him in his new capacity.
"He require you to learn de city, so as you know how to run when you istold--an' I is to teach you, so you come wid me," said the runner,rising.
"But am I to go in this costume, or rather in this half-naked state?"asked Miles, rising and spreading out his hands as he looked down at hisunclothed chest and lower limbs.
"You not cause for be ashamed," replied the runner, with a nod.
This was true, for the hard travelling which Miles had recently endured,and the heavy burdens which he had borne, had developed his muscles tosuch an extent that his frame was almost equal to that of the negro, anda fit subject for the sculptor's chisel.
"Your white skin will p'r'aps blister at first," continued the runner,"but your master will be glad for dat. Here is a t'ing, however, willsave you shoulders. Now, you makes fuss-rate runner."
He took the little green tippet off his own shoulders and fastened it onthose of his successor.
"Come now," he added, "let us see how you can run."
They passed out into the street together, and then poor Miles felt thefull sense of his degradation, when he saw some of the passers-by stopto gaze with looks of hatred or contempt or amusement at the "Christiancaptive."
But he had not much leisure to think or feel, for the negro ran him downone street and up another at a pace which would soon have exhausted himif, besides being a naturally good runner, he had not recently beenforced to undergo such severe training. During the run his guidepointed out and named most of the chief places, buildings, and mosques.
"You will do," said the negro, pausing at length and turning towards hiscompanion with a look of approval, "You a'most so good as myself!"
With this compliment he proceeded to instruct the new runner in hisduties, and at night Miles found himself again in his prison, ready todo full justice to his bowl of rice-compost, and to enjoy hisblanket-less mat bed--if a man can be said to enjoy anything about whichhe is profoundly unconscious during the time of its enjoyment!
Next morning he awoke with a sensation that led him for a moment tofancy he must have gone supper-less to bed. While he was waitingimpatiently for breakfast he revolved several ideas in his mind, one ofwhich was that, come what might, he would not suffer any indignity,however gross, to get the better of him. He would take a leaf out ofhis friend Stevenson's book, and bear patiently whatever was sent tohim, in the hope that by so doing he might gain the good-will of hiscaptors, and thus, perhaps, be in a better position to take advantage ofany opportunity to escape that might occur.
He was very confident of his power of self-restraint, and trusted a gooddeal to that determination of will which we have before referred to asbeing one of his characteristics. That same day his powers wereseverely tested.
All the morning he was left in his prison to fret in idleness, buttowards the afternoon he was called by his friend the ex-runner to goout to his work.
"Do what you is told an' hold you tongue, an' keep your eyes on deground. Dems my advice," said the negro, as he resigned the bridle ofthe Mahdi's steed to his successor, and placed the lance of office inhis hand.
Just as he did so the Mahdi came out of a door-way and advanced towardsthem, while the negro retired and mingled with the crowd which hadassembled to see the chief mount his horse.
Miles tried faithfully to attend to his friend's injunctions, but couldnot resist one glance at his new master, which showed him that a cynicalsmile rested on his swarthy countenance, a smile which he also observedwas copied by those of the crowd who did not prefer to regard him withscowling looks--for the people of the Soudan were, naturally enough,filled with indignation against all Europeans, and especially againstthe British, at that time.
The glance did not improve Miles's state of mind, nevertheless he forcedhimself to look at the ground with an utterly expressionless face, as heheld the Mahdi's stirrup. He received a slight push from his master'sfoot instead of thanks when he had mounted, but Miles resolutely kepthis eyes on the ground and restrained his rising wrath, ignorant of thefact that the Mahdi wished to point out the direction in which he was torun.
A smart blow from the riding-switch on his naked back aroused him to hisduty, and caused a slight laugh among the onlookers.
Never before, perhaps, was the Mahdi so near his end as at that moment,for, as our hero felt the sting, and heard the low laugh, all the bloodin his body seemed to leap into his brow, and the lance of officequivered as his hand tightened on it. The fact that two guards withdrawn swords stood at hi
s side, and that their weapons would have beenin his heart before he could have accomplished the deed, would probablyhave failed to restrain him had not his pride of purpose, as we maystyle it, come to his aid. He looked up, with a frown indeed, butwithout uttering a word. The Mahdi pointed along one of the streets,and Miles instantly bounded away--heartily glad to be able to let offhis superfluous feeling in violent action.
For several hours his master kept him running--evidently on purpose totry his powers, as a jockey might test the qualities of a new horse,and, strong though he was, the poor youth began at last to feel greatlydistressed, and to pant a good deal. Still his pride and adetermination not to be beaten sustained him.
At one point of his course he was passing a band of slaves who werelabouring to lift a large beam of wood, when the sound of a familiarvoice caused him to look up, and then he saw his friend Jack Molloy, incostume like his own, _minus_ the fez and tippet, with one of his greatshoulders under the beam, and the sweat pouring down his face.
"Hallo, Miles!" exclaimed the seaman.
But our hero did not dare to pause, and could not speak. His glancingaside, however, had the effect of causing him to stumble, and, being toomuch exhausted at the time to recover himself, he fell heavily to theground. As he slowly rose up, half-stunned, the Mahdi could scarcelyavoid riding him down. As it was, he stooped, and, a second time laidhis riding-switch smartly on the poor youth's naked shoulders.
Jack Molloy, who saw the cruel act, lost all control of himself, utteredone of his leonine roars, sprang into the middle of the road, and seizedthe reins of the Mahdi's horse. The startled animal reared andattempted to swerve. Molloy assisted the swerve by a violent side-pullat the reins. At the same time he caught one of the upraised forelegs,and, with an almost superhuman exertion of strength hurled both horseand rider to the ground!
A very howl of consternation and amazement burst from the populace asthey beheld their Mahdi lying flat and motionless on his back as ifdead!
Of course Jack Molloy was instantly seized by an overpowering number ofsoldiers, bound hand and foot, and carried back to his dungeon, whilethe Mahdi was tenderly raised and conveyed to the house which heinhabited at that time.
Miles had also been seized and dragged somewhat violently back to hisprison. As for the other members of the captive band, none of them werethere at the time. They were all separated at the time our hero wastaken from them, and each remained for a considerable time in ignoranceof the fate of his fellows. We may say at once here that they were allput to severe and menial labour. Each also had his uniform exchangedfor a pair of Arabian drawers, and a felt cap or a fez, so that theywere little better than naked. This would have mattered little--theweather being very warm--if their skins had been accustomed to thepowerful rays of a tropical sun. But the effect on them was so severethat their taskmasters, in an unwonted gush of pity, at last gave themeach a loose garment of sacking, which served as a partial protection.
After the incident which has just been related, Miles was permitted toremain during the rest of that day and night in his room. Not so JackMolloy. The anger of the populace was so powerfully aroused against theimpetuous sailor that they clamoured for his instant execution, and atlast, unable or unwilling to resist the pressure of public opinion, theofficers in charge of him gave in. They put a rope round his neck, andled him to a spot where criminals were wont to be executed.
As he went along and saw only scowling faces whenever he looked round inthe hope of meeting some pitying eye, the poor man began to feelconvinced that his last hour had in very truth arrived.
"Well, well, who'd ha' thowt it would ever come to this?" he sighed,shaking his head mournfully as he came in sight of the place ofexecution. "But, after all, ye richly desarve it, John Molloy, foryou've bin a bad lot the greater part o' your life!"
Again he looked on either side of him, for hope was strongly enshrinedin his broad bosom, but not a friendly or even pitiful face could he seeamong all the hundreds that surrounded him.
Arrived at the place, he glanced up at the beam over his head, and forone moment thought of trying, like Samson, to burst the bonds that heldhim; but it was only for a moment. The impossibility of freeing himselfwas too obvious. He meekly bowed his head. Another instant and therope tightened round his neck, and he felt himself swinging in the air.
Before his senses had quite left him, however, he felt his feet againtouch the ground. The choking sensation passed away, and he foundhimself supported by two men. A burst of mocking laughter then provedto the wretched man that his tormentors had practised on him the refinedcruelty of half-hanging him. If he had had any doubt on this subject,the remark of the interpreter, as he afterwards left him in his cell torecover as best he might, would have dispelled it--
"We will 'ang you _dead_ de nex' time!"
Blue Lights: Hot Work in the Soudan Page 25