Gilbert Parker

“ When, therefore, the Khalifa suddenly turned and asked him about Macnamara he chose his words discreetly. The Khalifa, ever suspicious, said that Macnamara had been thrown into prison twice for insubordination. To this Slatin replied:
“Sire, what greater proof could be had of the man's simplicity? His life is in your hands, sire. Would he have risked it, had he not been the most simple-minded of men? But you who read men's hearts, sire, as others read a book, you know if I speak truth.” Slatin bent his head in humility. ”

“ For two days and nights Macnamara had not slept, for forty-six hours he had been constantly in the saddle, but Mahommed Mahmoud allowed him neither sleep nor rest.
Dongola came at last, lying far away on their right. With Dongola, fresh camels; and the desert flight began again. Hour after hour, and not a living thing; and then, at last, a group of three Arabs on camels going south, far over to their right. These suddenly turned and rode down on them.
“We must fight,” said Mahmoud; “for they see you are no Arab.” ”

“ Macnamara took from his yelek a bag of gold and offered it to Mahmoud. It was the balance of the payment promised to Ebn Mazar. Mahmoud salaamed and shook his head, then in a thick voice said: “It is my life and thy life. If thou diest, I die. If thou livest, the gold is Ebn Mazar's. At Wady Halfa I will claim it, if it be the will of God.”
The words were thick and broken, but Macnamara understood him, and they turned and faced their pursuers, ready for life or death, intent to kill—Macnamara of the 7th Hussars and Mahommed Mahmoud of the Gilif Mountains. ”

“ With plenty of money the shoemaker might be induced to negotiate with Arab merchants coming from Dongola or Berber into Omdurman to get camels, and arrange an escape down the desert to Wady Halfa; but where was the money to come from?
One day, at a great review, when the roar of the drums rivalled the hoarse shouts of the Mahdists, and the Baggaras, for a diversion, looted one quarter of the town, Macnamara was told by his master that Slatin had been given by the Khalifa to Mahommed Sherif, and was going to Darfur. ”

“ He turned towards the bodies, then looked at the camels flying down the desert towards Dongola.
“It is as God wills now,” he said. “Their tribesmen will follow when they see the camels. See, my camel is wounded!” he added, with a gasp.
IV.
Two days following, towards evening, two wounded men on foot trudged through the desert haggard and bent. The feet of one—an Arab—had on a pair of red slippers, the feet of the other were bare. Mahmoud and Macnamara were in a bad way. They were in very truth “walking against time.” ”

“ He must have money. With money Mahommed Nafar, who was now his teacher (Slatin had managed that) would move for him.
Under the spur of his purpose Macnamara rapidly acquired Arabic, and steadfastly tried to make Mahommed Nafar his friend, for he liked the little man, and the little man was the only Arab, save one, from first to last, whom he would not willingly have hung on the point of a bayonet. At first he chafed under the hourly duplicity necessary in his service to the Khalifa, then he took an interest in it, and at last he wept tears of joy over his dangerous proficiency. ”

“ Also Macnamara was an expert with horses, and had taught the waler which Osman Wad Adam had looted from Khartoum a number of admired tricks.
Macnamara wished many a time that he could take to the desert with the waler; but the ride that he must ride to Wady Halfa was not for a horse. None but a camel could do it. Besides, he must have guides, and how was he to pay guides? More than once he had tried to get a word with Slatin, but that was dangerous for them both—most dangerous for Slatin, who was now the servant of the Khalifa Abdullah himself. ”

“ He has been telling me that he is without education even in his own faith, and that he cannot learn things quickly. Also he does not understand what to do in the mosque, or how to pray, and needs to be taught. ”

“ An' you forgive me, Hinry darlin', you forgive me?”
“I've nothing to forgive,” said Henry Withers.
A smile lighted the blanched face of the dying man. “Give me love to the boy—to Peter Macnamara!” he said, and fell back with a smile on his face.
“I'd do it again. Wot's a lie so long as it does good?” said Henry Withers afterwards to Holgate the engineer. “But tell ’er, tell Kitty! no fear! I ain't no bloomin' fool. 'E's 'appy—that's enough. ”

“ Wantin' of a man to die without leavin' 'is mark—'is bleedin' 'all-mark on the world. I 'ave two—two kids I 'ave—an' so 'elp me Gawd, things bein' as they are, I wouldn't say nothin' if one of 'em was Macnamara's—wich it ain't—no fear! ”