“I am glad,” said Colonel Gordon, “that you have decided to take a more reasonable view of the matter. Will you not reconsider your determination of resigning your post? Let no consideration for me stop you, I beg of you. I should, of course, be glad to accept the position, but yours is undoubtedly the prior right, and your previous experience has amply proven your ability.”
“Colonel,” Sir Arthur replied solemnly, “I’m going back to England. I’m sick of Africa. I’ve had a little more than a genteel sufficiency during the past few months, and I’m pining for a sight of dear old England. I’m going home.”
Sir Arthur kept his word. On the same day he mailed his resignation, and handed the reins of office to Colonel Gordon.
After careful consideration, Colonel Carrington decided to accept the post of Assistant Political Resident that Gordon offered him, subject, of course, to the wishes of the Foreign Office.
Chutney had at first intended going on to India, but letters from home informing him of the serious illness of his brother decided his return to England, and he sailed from Aden a week later, in company with Sir Arthur and Melton Forbes, who had been recalled by his paper as soon as they learned of his wonderful journey.
Canaris accompanied them as far as Port Said, where he changed to a vessel bound for Rhodes. He was eager to see Greece after his long captivity among the Somalis, and at last accounts he was the proprietor of a celebrated cafe at Athens, having inherited a tidy sum of money from a deceased relative.
Bildad expressed a desire to go back to the Galla country, and Colonel Gordon finally succeeded in obtaining safe passage for him with a caravan bound for the interior.
Manuel Torres met the fate his treachery duly merited. Two days after his escape from Zaila he fell into the hands of a party of prowling Arabs, and was conveyed by them to Makar Makolo, who determined that he should receive fitting punishment for his renegade conduct. Accordingly he sent him under strong escort to Harar, and Rao Khan very obligingly carried out his friend Makar’s wishes by cooking the wretched Portuguese in a caldron of boiling oil.
A remarkable thing occurred in the fourth month of Governor Gordon’s rulership at Zaila.
A bronzed Englishman arrived one day with a caravan from the interior.