“Well now, really, I was under the impression that you wrote me some time ago, with your own hand, besides endorsing Mr. Jephson’s letter, that you were a prisoner to your own soldiers, that they had deposed you, that they had threatened to take you in irons, strapped on your bedstead, to Khartoum, and I am sure you know as well as I do what that means.”
“That is true. But you must not think that I am about to change my mind. As I said to you, I leave with you on the 10th of April next. That is settled. I wish, however, you would see Casati about this and talk to him.”
“I should be most happy to do so, but my French is wretched, and his is still worse.”
“Oh, if you will send a boy to call me I will come in and be your interpreter.”
What we have gleaned of Casati’s character is generally regarded as a reflection of the Pasha himself. He has not been averse to declaring that he would prefer Africa to Europe. There is some reason in the Pasha seeking an excuse to remain here, but I can find none for Casati, though he has a right to express his preference. But what good purpose can influence either to stay here now I fail to see. When the Pasha possessed force he declined the salary of £1500 a year and £12,000 annual subsidy for the government of his Province: he deferred accepting a somewhat similar post under British auspices until it was too late. The proposal to return home was so displeasing to him that he elected to leave it unanswered until he could learn the wishes of his troops, in the attempt to ascertain which he was deposed, and imprisoned, and is now—let us speak the truth—a fugitive from their power.
But when these two men get together for a social chat, the result is that the Pasha feels depressed, and vexes himself unnecessarily with fears that he may be charged by his rebellious troops with deserting them. Casati feels elated somewhat at having caused these doubts. What Casati’s object is, more than to secure a companion in misery, is to me unknown.
I proceeded to Captain Casati’s quarters, and presently, after an ineffectual effort to be intelligible to him, sent a boy to request the Pasha’s good offices. At once Casati commenced to lecture the Pasha in the name of honour and duty, and to persuade him that he was moralement wrong in abandoning his troops, referring of course to the Pasha’s declared intention of leaving with us on the 10th of April.
“But the Pasha, Captain Casati,” I said, “never had an intention of abandoning his troops, as no person knows better than you. It is these troops who have deposed him, and made him a prisoner from August 18th to February 8th, or thereabouts, nearly six months. They have three times revolted, they have said repeatedly they do not want him, nor will obey him, and they have threatened to kill him. They would probably have sent him to Khartoum before this, had not the mad Danaglas shown what little mercy would have been shown to them.”
“The governor of a fort should never surrender his charge,” replied Casati.
“I quite agree with you in that, if his troops remain faithful to him; but if his troops arrest him, haul down the flag, and open the gates, what can the poor governor do?”