mountain-pass, to take in all the details of this wondrous prospect, more splendid at sun-rise than at any other hour of the day. As if our haghins had guessed our wishes, they no sooner reached the western declivity of the Mokattan, than they started at the top of their speed, and soon cleared the space which separated us from the city of the Khaliphs. Thence to Cairo is only a step. This time we entered the city triumphantly, without fearing that our haghins would play us any unlucky trick. We had become perfect riders, and with our Arabian costumes, and faces browned by the sun, it would have been really difficult to recognise us as Christians. At ten o'clock, we were in the house of M. Dantan, vice-consul of France, who appeared delighted to see us safe and sound. He immediately sent notice to the hostages of Waleb-Saïde, who, though less exuberant in their delight, seemed well satisfied to see our troop complete, and in good health. The reader will remember that their heads were responsible for ours.

Immediately after the first moments given to the pleasure of seeing our countrymen again, and finding ourselves, if I may say so, once more in France, it was necessary to think of business. The amicable arrangement made between Taleb and the Father of Victory at the foot of Sinai was, that they should share between them the price of our return. In order that our faithful friends should not be deprived of the

reward they had so loyally gained, we resolved that we would take this additional expense upon ourselves. Besides, we gave each of our guests as large a present as the state of our finances would admit; so that when we separated, they promised to hold us in eternal remembrance; and we promised to return some future day. I know not whether I shall be able to keep my engagement with them; but of this I am sure, that they have kept their engagement with us; and that more than once, on the haghin in rapid gallop, round the fire kindled in the Desert, or under the nomade tents of the tribe of Waleb-Saïde, our names have been repeated by Bechara and by Taleb, as those of loyal friends and brave companions.

303

XVIII. CONCLUSION.

M. DE LINANT, the young artist who had introduced us to the tribe of Waleb-Saïde, having heard of our return, hastened to the Frank hotel, insisted that on this occasion we should use no residence but his, and took us to his house. At the first mention of our purpose to visit Jerusalem and Damascus, he offered to become our companion, and the proposal was accepted with acclamation. M. de Linant having already traversed Syria two or three times, was the best guide that we could possibly have. It was resolved that we should rest ourselves while going down the Nile to Damietta, and that having reached this city, fresh and ready for a second journey, we should make a second engagement with Taleb and his dromedaries, to take us by the road of Al Arish to Al Kods (the Holy City), as the Arabs term Jerusalem.

We commenced our preparations for departure that very day. Nothing easier seizes hold of man, nor quits him more reluctantly, than a passion for travelling; when once it has taken possession of the mind, it urges the individual forward; he must be always in motion. The wandering Jew is a mere

symbol of an enthusiastic tourist in search of the picturesque.

We started on a lovely evening, having the wind against us, but the current and fourteen stout Nubian rowers in our favour. During the night, which fell fast, we cleared all that part of the Nile with which we were already acquainted, extending from Boulacq to the corner of the Delta. When day dawned, we began to struggle through the eastern branch, which is more beautiful and majestic than that of Rosetta. The fertility of its banks struck us the more forcibly as we had just emerged from the Desert.

Towards evening, we saw about a score of women come down from the village to enjoy the luxury of bathing. They plunged into the stream without any covering and swam towards our bark, which they followed for some time, doubtless attracted by the songs of our Nubian boatmen.

The next morning we anchored at Mansurah.

This name, like that of the Pyramids, recalls one of those national reminiscences to which a Frenchman never is indifferent. It is for ever memorable from its connexion with the crusade of St. Louis, the last of those religious wars for the possession of the Holy Land which had so long engaged the attention of Christian Europe.

The house of Fakr-ed-din-Ebn-Lokman, which served as a prison to St. Louis, still stands, shaded

by palm-trees, whose age is counted by centuries, on the left bank of the Nile, which it majestically commands. Three immense windows, having Venetian blinds instead of glass, overlook a circularlyarched gate; the arch is ornamented by white and red stones, placed alternately. The left of the house is flanked by a low mean building, pierced with a single opening, which does not deserve the name of window; it is the modest chapel in which the pious king performed his devotions. The Emír, Fakr-eddin, yielding to the pious scruples of his prisoner, caused it to be built, that Louis might be able to perform his devotions in a place where he could not be interrupted by Mussulmans.

We halted for a moment before the consecrated mansion; our rowers then carelessly resumed their songs of the evening before; our jerm bounded over the waters, urged forward by the double impetus of the oars and the stream. Night overtook, but did not stop us. When we awoke in the morning, the bed of the river was visibly enlarged, and the white walls of Damietta were revealed to us through the curtain of foliage which borders the Nile. This city, situated two leagues higher than the ancient city to which it has succeeded, has an Italian appearance; the houses are large and handsome; those which border the quays have all terraces surrounded with green trellises, which produce a most delightful effect.

X.