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Apart from the obligation to his comrades, there were other motives which had influenced him. He vaguely felt that it was incumbent on him to prove his manhood in this arduous grapple with Nature, and, after a purposeless life, to vindicate himself. The wilderness, as Gordon had said, had also gotten hold of him, and that described what had befallen him reasonably well.
The Egyptian Government decided to make Gordon Governor-General of the Soudan, and the Khedive gave into his hands all the absolute power that he himself possessed; this appointment was sanctioned by the British Government, and officially communicated to Gordon by Sir E. Baring. In view of this appointment, most readers will concur in the opinion of Mr.
He addresses Mr Gordon with an attempt at conciliation and deference. "It seems very 'ard, sir, as a man can't get the trifle of money coming to him, which I've worked 'ard for." "It's very hard you won't try and shear decently," retorts Mr Gordon, by no means conciliated. "Leave the shed!"
"That's neither here nor there. He wasn't a boy for one thing." "Then you propose to have your own way, Mr. Gordon?" "Yes, I do." "Very well, then you can leave me at the end of this week." "What!" exclaimed the cook in profound astonishment. "Are you going crazy?" "No, I know what I am about." "Perhaps you intend to cook yourself." "No, I don't. That would close up the hotel."
When General Staveley was applied to for an officer to take command of the so-called Ever-Victorious Army, his thoughts not unnaturally turned to Gordon, who, by the way, had received the brevet rank of major at the end of 1862. Gordon, having seen the failings and shortcomings of our generals in the Crimea, longed for an opportunity to exercise the gifts of which he felt conscious.
The abbreviation he generally used for His Highness the Khedive. Closely associated with this question of finance was the still more important question of slavery. The Khedive's Government were at this time at their wit's end for money. They wrote to Colonel Gordon asking him to send them £12,000, and he replied that he had no funds available.
Tom Gordon had flung himself on the bed with uncontrollable sorrow. One arm lay over the breast and partly round the neck of the body, which breathed no longer, and whose face was lit up by a beatific smile; for Jim Travers was with mother and Maggie and father, and they should go out no more forever. It is not well to dwell upon the second great affliction of Tom Gordon.
Nevertheless his admiration of the Chief did not make him do any more work than was strictly necessary; and Gordon began to drift into a peaceful academic groove, where he did just enough work to pass unnoticed neither good nor bad. He had grown tired of ragging. It was such an effort, especially when the call of football demanded of every ounce of energy.
The two great poplar-trees, sentineling what had once been the gate of the old Gordon homestead, had been spared through all the industrial changes. When he would have opened the wicket to pass on to the log-house offices, an armed man stepped from behind one of the trees with an oath in his mouth and his gun-butt drawn up to strike.
"Yes, certainly, my boy; come in. I've one patient now, but you are welcome. My other boy is well enough to sit up." Looking across the room, the astounded Jim saw his old friend, Tom Gordon, sitting in an easy-chair, with one leg bandaged, as though suffering from a hurt. The meeting between Tom Gordon and Jim Travers was one of the most joyous character.
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