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With the capture of Khartoum, on the morning of the 26th of January 1885, and the abandonment of the Soudan and its population the Egyptian frontier being fixed by British Government order at Wady Halfa the over-lordship of that immense region from the Second Cataract to the Equatorial Lakes was yielded to the so-called Mahdi Mohammed Achmed did not long enjoy his conquests.
On the previous evening I had seen many dead dervishes lying in that vicinity. In their credulous faith in Mohamed Achmed they had flocked there for safety, only to be killed by our fire. Of 120 who were praying around the tomb when a 50-lb. Lyddite shell burst, but eighteen escaped alive, and these were sorely wounded.
An open colonnade resting on pillars usually runs round the mosques, and splendid plantains and other trees throw a delicious shade around. The mosque of Sultan Achmed, on the Hippodrome, is surrounded by six minarets. Most of the others have only two, and some few four. The kitchens for the poor, situated in the immediate neighbourhood of the mosques, are a very praiseworthy institution.
Sultan Achmed, meanwhile, is engaged in his morning devotions, day by day he punctually observes this pious practice. The previous night he did not spend in the harem, but shut himself up with his viziers and counsellors in that secret chamber of the Divan, which is roofed over with a golden cupola.
The marines lined the way to the mosque of Sultan Achmed, and a great crowd of spectators filled up the streets and the square of the Hippodrome. Coffee was served to us, after which we were all conducted into the inner court of the Seraglio, to await the return of the cortege.
One of the natives saw her predicament and hastened away for assistance. Achmed was greatly alarmed over the loss of the baboon. It was a camp pet of Colonel Hare's and ran free in camp whenever the colonel was there. He had captured it when a mere baby in British East Africa.
He greeted several friends of humble origin: the black barber who called himself "Mr. White"; Ahri Achmed, the Folly of Luxor, who danced and gibbered at Mrs.
Dicky looked at Achmed Hariri for a moment without stirring or speaking; his lips relaxed, his eyes softening with satisfaction. "She is living?" "But living, saadat el basha." Dicky started to his feet. "At the mudirieh?" "At the house of Azra, the seller of sherbet, saadat el basha." "When did she leave the mudirieh?" "A week past, effendi." "Why did she leave?"
And now just the same sort of tempest which had overthrown his predecessor was shaking the seat of the mighty rock beneath his own feet. "Mashallah! the will of God be done!" exclaimed Achmed, kissing the sword of Muhammad, and a quarter of an hour later he went on board the ship destined for him with the banner of the Prophet borne before him.
Unfurl the banner of the Prophet in front of the Gate of the Seraglio, let the Chief Mufti and Ispirizade open the Aja Sophia and the Mosque of Achmed, and let the imams call the people to prayer. Let Damad Ibrahim remain outside with the host, that in case of need he may hasten to suppress the insurgents.
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