"Immediately?"
"By to-night's train to take the P. & O. to-morrow,"' said the old man, bowing over his clasped hands.
"To-morrow?"
"Why not? My Secretaries can do without me. Why should I linger on a stage on which I am no longer a leading actor but only a supernumerary? Better make my exit with what grace I can."
Under the semi-cynical tone Gordon could see his father's emotion. He found it impossible to utter a word.
"But I thought I would come up before going away and bring you the good news myself, though it is almost like a father who is deposed congratulating the son who is to take his place."
"Don't say that, sir," said Gordon.
"Why shouldn't I? And why should I gird at my fortune? It's strange, nevertheless, how history repeats itself. I came to Egypt to wipe out the misrule of Ismail Pasha, and now, like Ismail, I leave my son behind me."
There was a moment of strained silence and then—
"I have often wondered what took place at that secret meeting between Ismail and Tewfik, when we made the son Khedive and sent the father back to Constantinople. Now I think I know."