One of the eunuchs connected with Mahmoud’s harem testified how the wives were constantly beaten with whips. “The same measure shall be meted out to Mahmoud,” said the Mahdi; “it is fate.” The man pleaded for his life, but the Mahdi was inexorable. Mahmoud suffered the scourging from the hands of his own eunuch, and was drowned in the Nile. “It is fate! It is justice!” exclaimed the people, who were more than ever enthused with the prophet and his cause. CHAPTER XXXI. VICTORY ALL ALONG THE LINE. Early on the following morning a man, riding at hot haste, asked for the Mahdi. He bore a letter to the prophet, and another to Sherif el Habib. When the dispatch was opened the Mahdi read: “To the illustrious Mahomet Ahmed, the Prophet, Imaum and Mahdi: “GREETING: Senaar resisted for several hours, but the flag of the Mahdi floats over its fortress. The day is ours. “IBRAHIM.” Sherif el Habib handed his document to the Mahdi. “Dear uncle, we have fought and won,” ran the letter. “I was wounded in the right foot and lost two toes, but that was better than my life. The people were all with us, but the soldiers fought bravely. It was a tough battle. The commander gave me his sword, which I will send to the Mahdi when I hear from him. How is Girzilla? Give her my love. Is Max the Madcap alive? Of course he is. Tell him not to play any pranks in Kordofan. “Your loving nephew, “IBRAHIM.” When the Mahdi had read the letters aloud to his staff, he called Max to him. “It was your plan which we adopted,” he said, “and we are victorious. You are Max Pasha; and your nephew”--turning to Sherif--“is also pasha, and is made governor of Senaar, while Max, here, shall be governor of Kordofan.” The people cheered the young governor. Turning to the Mahdi, Max said: “I thank you for the honor, but I am about to decline it.” “You must not.” “I am about to decline it after to-morrow. I want to be governor and pasha for one day, because I am going back to America, and if I ever go on the lecture platform the people will sooner pay a dollar to hear a real live pasha, than a quarter if the speaker is only Madcap Max.” The Mahdi laughed. “Still thinking of the dollars?” he said. “Yes,” answered Max; “and whenever you get tired of being the Mahdi come over to New York and I will trot you round, and--oh, my! won’t the dollars just flow into our pockets.” But before the Mahdi could reply another dispatch was placed in his hands. It was from a trusty agent in the North. “Giegler Pasha has placed the army of Khartoum under the command of Yussuf Pasha Hassan,” it read, “and is marching with five thousand men against you. Hicks Pasha, an Englishman, with three thousand men, is marching from the northeast. You are to be cut in two by these armies.” “No! by the prophet--no!” exclaimed the Mahdi. “We will attack both and exterminate them.” The bugles called the army together and the march was ordered.