But, like the grand old martyrs of olden times, the young men went forth, their lives in their hands, in support of the cause they had espoused.
Max was not quite so much in love with his mission when he entered Kordofan alone, and knew that he, in all probability, was in antagonism to several regiments of soldiers and an excited populace.
He needed rest.
It was a treat to reach a town after all the horrors of caravan life on the desert. Yet his mission was so urgent that he dare not delay more than that one day.
He had been provided with a letter of introduction to a merchant with whom Sherif el Habib had done business. That letter opened the merchant’s heart and home, for Max was at once invited to make Shula’s house his home during his stay in Kordofan.
Shula was a shrewd business man, a faithful religionist, and a man of wealth, and therefore of great influence.
It was not long before he asked Max the pointed question:
“Do you believe the Mahdi has come?”
Max parried the question in order to find out Shula’s belief.
“I believe Mohammed Ahmed to be the Mahdi,” said the merchant.