“It was your plan which we adopted,” he said, “and we are victorious. You are Max Pasha; and your nephew”—turning to Sherif—“is also pasha, and is made governor of Senaar, while Max, here, shall be governor of Kordofan.”
The people cheered the young governor.
Turning to the Mahdi, Max said:
“I thank you for the honor, but I am about to decline it.”
“You must not.”
“I am about to decline it after to-morrow. I want to be governor and pasha for one day, because I am going back to America, and if I ever go on the lecture platform the people will sooner pay a dollar to hear a real live pasha, than a quarter if the speaker is only Madcap Max.”
The Mahdi laughed.
“Still thinking of the dollars?” he said.
“Yes,” answered Max; “and whenever you get tired of being the Mahdi come over to New York and I will trot you round, and—oh, my! won’t the dollars just flow into our pockets.”
But before the Mahdi could reply another dispatch was placed in his hands.