ened to say: "To-day is the anniversary of the fall of
Khartum--Gordon's day--a black day!" In the Sudan it is the custom to
call a day on which a misfortune has occurred "Yom aswad" (a black day).
And to the survivors of Khartum, the 26th of January is always looked
upon as a day of grief and sorrow; several people give alms for the rest
of the souls of their murdered friends.

Pertekachi had intended to go and look at the new house he had just
built; but being the 26th of January, he would not go to it, and decided
to go to the beit el mal instead, where he had some work to do. He found
the workmen busy opening one of the barrels of damaged powder, and after
taking a cup of coffee, he went to help them, as they seemed to be in
difficulty. He had scarcely reached the spot when--owing to a sudden
blow or shock, or clumsiness on the part of the workmen--the powder blew
up with a most terrific explosion which shook the whole town, and
terrified the inhabitants, who rushed wildly about in all directions to
see what had occurred. I happened at the time to be sitting at my loom,
and at once ran up to the roof of my house, and there, in the direction
of the beit el mal, I saw a column of thick smoke ascending.

My first thought was for poor Yusef. I hastened to the beit el mal,
which was half an hour's walk from my hut, and found crowds going in the
same direction. The Khalifa himself appeared on the scene, he came
riding along on a donkey, with only one or two men. His first question
was, "Osta Yusef fi?" ("Is the Master Yusef alive?") "Taish enta!" ("May
you live!") was the reply. These are the words in which Arabs always
announce a death.

A poor Egyptian woman, whose only son was employed as Pertekachi's clerk
and had been killed, was weeping and wailing in the most heart-rending
way--her husband and another son had been murdered in Khartum--and now
wild with grief she was cursing the Mahdi, through whom her dear ones
had been brought to an untimely end. Some of the Ansar approached, and
threatened to beat her with a whip if she did not stop. But she shouted
at them, "Kill me as well! Why should I live any longer? You have
killed my dear ones--may God kill you!"

The Khalifa, who was standing near, rebuked his officious followers,
saying: "Let her weep, she is 'mahar[=u]ka'" (_i.e._ consumed with the
pain of affliction). He did not stay long at the scene of the accident,
but went away very sadly.

All Pertekachi's fe