here and there, you will
spread dismay in the Arab camps. The time to attack is the dawn, or
rather before it, but sixty men would put the Arabs to flight just before
dawn, while one thousand would not accomplish in daylight. The reason is
that the strength of the Arabs is in their horsemen, who do not dare to
act in the dark. I do hope that you will not drag on the artillery, it
will only cause delay and do no good."

To his sister he writes:--

_November 5th_, _1884_.

"Your kind letter, August 7th, came yesterday. We have the Madhi
close to us, but the Arabs are very quiet. . . . . Terrible news--I
hear the steamer I sent down with Stewart, Power, and Herbin (French
Consul) has been captured and all are killed. I cannot understand
it--whether an act of treachery by someone, or struck on a rock, it is
to me unaccountable, for she was well armed and had a gun with her; if
she is lost, so is the journal of events from Jan. 3rd, 1884, to Sept.
10th, 1884. A huge volume illustrated and full of interest. I have
put my steamers at Metemma to wait for the troops. I am very well but
very gray, with the continual strain upon my nerves. I have been
putting the Sheikh-el-Islam and Cadi in prison; they were suspected of
writing to the Madhi. I let them out yesterday. I am very grieved
for the relatives of Stewart, Power, and Herbin."

Again he writes:--

_Dec. 14th_, _1884_.

"This may be the last letter you will receive from me, for we are on
our last legs, owing to the delay of the expedition. However, God
rules all, and I know He will rule to His glory and our welfare. I
fear that, owing to circumstances, my affairs pecuniarily are not over
bright.

Your affectionate brother,
C. G. GORDON."

P.S.--"I am very happy, thank God, and, like Lawrence, 'I have tried
to do my duty.'"

Meanwhile, Gordon is thus hemmed in. General Wolseley and his noble band
are on their way to his relief. Many and peculiar are the difficulties
of both climate, country, and foes; yet they face them like brave, true
Englishmen. The journey from Cairo to Ambukol, a distance of more than
one thousand miles, had been traversed without serious opposition. From
here, however, as they near Khartoum, now about two hundred and fifty
miles, taking the nearest desert route. Lord Wolseley seems here to halt
and hesitate, whether it is best to go by the Nile, whic