On the death of Perdikaki, Hassan Hosna—a Circassian, and, I believe, formerly an officer in the old army—and Abdes Semmeer, formerly in the ordnance section of the old army at Kassala, were placed in charge of the powder factory. When our mixed product was used for the manufacture of gunpowder, strange things happened. After a few cartridges made from such powder had been fired, the barrel of the rifle was found coated with a thick white fouling; then an inquiry was held. The rifles were brought to us at Khartoum, and, pointing to the cleaning rods, I asked what these were intended for; on being told for cleaning the barrel, I asked whether it was not better to have a powder which left a white ash which might be seen to a powder which left a black ash which could not be seen. But, for once, my argument was of no use. Wohatt replied that perhaps we were working on bad beds, and suggested our being transferred somewhere else. Nothing was done at the time, and we worked on for some more months; but as large quantities of saltpetre came in from Darfur, and later, considerable quantities of good powder came from Upper Egypt and by the Suakin route, Khaater was able to store away our saltpetre, and supply |182| the factory with powder and saltpetre from these sources.
The Upper Egypt and Suakin supplies were supposed to have been put to the reserve, so that when cartridges exploded in the breeches of the rifles, and destroyed the eyesight of a number of soldiers, our saltpetre came in for the blame again. Another inquiry was held, when we were told that the bullet did not leave the rifle, and that the breech-blocks blew open. This, we argued, could not be the fault of the powder, but of the rifle. Whatever the Khaleefa’s opinion might have been, he sent off Wohatt to Alti on the Blue Nile, where, with a number of Fellatis working under him, he was able to send considerable quantities of “needle” saltpetre to Omdurman, while I continued at the Khartoum works to turn out as poor a quality of saltpetre as before. Abdel Wohatt is in Cairo now, and tells me that our precious production—about two tons of saltpetre—is still lying unused in the stores at Omdurman. Khaleel Hassanein and Ali Khaater are still alive, and would doubtless smile at the legend that I “manufactured powder for the Khaleefa to shoot English soldiers with,” particularly when I forbade the use of wood ash in the saturation tanks, and this addition, they knew later, was the Fellati secret for the purification of the saltpetre.
While employed at the Mission-house in Khartoum, Father Ohrwalder came on three or four occasions to see me, the last occasion being, I believe, about a month before his escape. We would sit together talking of old times, commiserate each other on our |183| hard lot, and guardedly, very guardedly, breathe a hope that, in some way and by some means, our release would come, but I have no recollection that we ever confided to each other any plans for escape. Father Ohrwalder knew that I had had letters written by some Greeks, but I do not think he knew of any of my plans. That we did not openly discuss such plans now appears to me strange—and yet it is not strange. Where all led for years a life of falsehood, in which deception of self had a no less part than that of others, suspicious of every one around us, trusting no one, what wonder that deceit became a second nature, and that truth, honour, and morality—that is to say, morality as preached in Europe—should have retired to vanishing point!
When I heard of Father Ohrwalder’s escape, the conclusion I at once jumped to was that my guides, seeing the impossibility of effecting my escape from Khartoum, had come to some arrangement with him. How fervently I cursed them all, but I did not pray for their recapture. Even had I done so, it would have been useless. There was nothing, provided you had money with which to purchase camels and arrange a couple of relays in the desert, to prevent every one who wished to, escaping from Omdurman. Your guides had only to lead you away from any settlements; no pursuers could overtake you once you reached your first relay, fast as their camels might go, and you would travel at twice the speed the news of your flight could, besides having some hours’ start of it. In the event of your coming |184| across any straggler on the desert, a few dollars would silence his tongue, for the dollar is not more “almighty” in America than it was in the Soudan. Supposing the dollars did not appeal to him, and your bullet missed its mark, the chances were a thousand to one against his picking up your pursuers on the route you had come, for they would make to the settlements near the river, and waste their time in useless inquiries, while you were lengthening the distance between you.
CHAPTER XV DIVORCED AND MARRIED
As if my troubles were not all-sufficient in themselves, Hasseena, in addition to the begging and other undesirable proclivities she had developed since the death of Makkieh, added that of thieving. She naturally devoted her talents in this direction to my friends, knowing that they would not, on my account, prosecute her. Numberless complaints came to me, and many a recommendation was made to get rid of her; but as she had been sent to me by the Khaleefa, I could not send her off without his sanction. The question also arose as to what excuse I might offer for divorcing her; to give the real reasons might end in her being stoned, mutilated, or imprisoned, and this I shrank from. I must admit, too, that, bad as she was then, I did not like the idea of throwing her over. Being in receipt of ten dollars a month, I sent word to my friends that I would save what I could to repay their losses, and do my best to break Hasseena of her bad habits. My friends warned me that if I was not careful I should find myself before the Kadi as Hasseena’s partner in crime; and the Kadi, being |186| no friend of mine, would certainly order me into prison again, which would put an end to all chances of escape.
In the end Hasseena had to go. Nahoum Abbajee, my greatest friend, gave a feast at his house to celebrate the marriage of his son Yousef. Hasseena was one of the invited guests. She stole all the spoons and cutlery before the feast commenced, and also a number of articles of dress belonging to other guests, all of which she sold in the bazaar. Nahoum could overlook her stealing his property, but to steal the property of guests under his roof was carrying matters too far. He sent word to me that I must get rid of her, and at once. Calling Hasseena to Khartoum, I was compelled to quarrel with her in such a way as to attract the attention of Hamad'na Allah, and on his asking me the reason for our constant squabbles, I told him that Hasseena was not acting as she should by me, and begged his intervention in obtaining through the Emir Yacoub the Khaleefa’s permission to divorce her. Abdullahi was “gracious,” permitted the divorce, and sent word that he would select another wife for me. This was just what I did not want. Always expecting the return of my guides, my not having a woman in the place lent probability to my having a whole night’s start upon my pursuers, for my absence might not be discovered until sunrise the following morning, at which time we went to work, and some hours more would be lost—and gained—by Hamad'na Allah and others making a thorough search for me before daring to tell the Khaleefa that I was missing. |187|
Returning my thanks to Abdullahi, I asked to be left in single blessedness for a time; but to this he replied that “his heart was heavy at the loss of my child; that no man might be happy without children, and he wished me to be happy; he also wished me to have all the comforts of life, which did not exist where woman was not; that if I did not take another wife, he would believe I was not content with my life in the Soudan under his protection.” It was a long rigmarole of a message he sent, and it wound up by saying that as I had been ill for two months, he must send a wife to attend to me, and had selected for the purpose a daughter of Abd-el-Latif Terran.
This was making matters worse than ever, for this girl, although brought up in the Soudan, and speaking only Arabic, was a French subject, being the granddaughter of Dr. Terran, an old employé of the Government. She was only nominally Mohammedan, and lived in the “Christian quarter.” When marriages took place in this quarter, the Mohammedan form of marriage was gone through, and then Father Ohrwalder performed the Christian religious ceremony surreptitiously later in the day. I spoke to him about the Khaleefa’s intention, and as he knew I was already married, he advised me to try and get out of the proposed marriage by some means or another, as it would be considered binding. After casting about for excuses which I thought might appeal to the Khaleefa, I asked Hamad'na Allah to inform him that I thanked him for his selection of a wife, but as she was of European descent, had been brought up in a rich family where |188| the ladies are waited upon and never do any work, she would be no use to me, as I required some one to nurse me, do the cooking and house work, and go to the bazaar to buy food, all of which she had had servants to do for her; I therefore begged to be allowed to select a wife of the country.
The latter part of my message evidently pleased the Khaleefa; it appeared to him as an earnest that I was “content,” but again he undertook the selection of the woman. When Abdullahi told any woman she was to be the wife of any one, she dare no more refuse to accept than the one she was sent to dare refuse to receive her. Fearing that he might send me some one from his hareem, I asked Nahoum and other friends to find me a wife—sharp. My object was to get her into the place before Abdullahi sent his “present,” whom, on arrival, I might send back on the plea that I was already married, and could not support two wives. Nahoum found me a wife, and sent me the following history of her.