ebels wrote: "Often have I seen the deadly musket
struck from the hand of a dastardly Englishman (tempted by love of loot
to join our ranks) when he attempted from his place of safety to kill
Gordon, who ever rashly exposed himself. This has been the act of a
chief--yea, of the Shield King himself."

All England was ready to give "Chinese Gordon" a magnificent welcome
when he came home. Invitations from the greatest in the land were
showered upon him.

But when, early in 1865, he returned, he refused to be made a hero of.

"I only did my duty," he said, and grew quite shy and ashamed when
people praised and admired him. He would accept no invitations, and it
was only a very few people who were lucky enough to hear him fight his
battles over again. Sometimes in the evening as he sat in the
fire-light, in his father's house at Southampton, he would tell his
eager listeners the wonderful tale of his battles and adventures in the
far-off land of pagodas.

And to them not the least wonderful part of what they listened to was
this, that the hero who was known all over the world as "Chinese
Gordon" was one who took no credit for any of the great things he had
done, and who was still as simple and modest as a little child.

CHAPTER IV

THE "KERNEL"

Had you lived thirty-five or forty years ago at Gravesend, a dirty,
smoky town on the Thames near London, you might have read chalked up on
doors and on hoardings in boyish handwriting, these words--

"GOD BLESS THE KERNEL."

And had you asked any of the ragged little lads that you met, who was
"The Kernel," their faces would have lit up at once, while they told
you that their "Kernel" was the best and bravest soldier in the world,
and that his name was Colonel Gordon.

For six years after he left China, Gordon was Commanding Royal Engineer
at Gravesend, and these years, he said, were "the most peaceful and
happy of any portion of his life."

His work there was done, as all his work throughout his life was done,
with all his might.

When he first took command he was worried by the amount of time that
was wasted as he rowed from one port which he had to inspect, to
another, in a pair-oared boat. He put away the pair-oared boat and got
a four-oared gig, and soon had the men who pulled it trained to row him
in racing style. They might sometimes have waited for hours on the
chance of Colonel Gordon wanting them, but the minute his trim little
figure was seen