“Having lightened our baggage considerably at this haul, they proceeded to search our persons.  It had been our first movement, on being placed by ourselves, to transfer our watches, together with a locket,—­all priceless memorials of distant or departed friends—­from the waistcoat to the pantaloons fob; a pocket compass attached to my watchguard, was cared for; likewise, the little note-book in which I was accustomed to place the map of each day’s journey.  We knew not how soon we might be wandering in the mountains on foot, and without a guide.  Dr. Bacon had with him two English sovereigns, and we were uncertain what to do with them.  If we should openly give them to the robbers, we dreaded the effect of the auri sacra fames.  If discovered in a secret place, we might be stripped in the search for more.  The attempt to conceal them in the earth might be perilous.  They were finally placed in the waistcoat fob, from which the watch had been taken, with the hope that the clumsy Kurds might overlook it.

“They began with me.  The Agha, with an irresistible smile and bow of apology, passed his hand about my waist, feeling for a money belt, then over my dress; finding that one of my breeches’ pockets was full, he motioned me to empty it, and seemed satisfied when I drew out a handkerchief and a pair of gloves.  Dr. Bacon was then searched, even more superficially; but as the hand passed over the waistcoat pocket, something jingled.  I held my breath as Dr. B. put in his hand and drew out a seal, which he had bought at Mosul as an antique Upon Mr. Marsh, the Agha found a gold pencil case, which pleased him wonderfully.  On being told of its use, he scrawled with the pencil on the beyur-haldeh, an autograph, for which I have a peculiar value.  The mystery of this was, that he restored the pencil, with a grin of self-righteousness, to Mr. Marsh.”

After waiting some time in suspense, the travelers were suffered to leave, in charge of a Kurdish guard: 

“It soon became evident that we were not on the road to Oroomiah.  Whither we were going, was a matter of painful mystery.  At the distance of more than a mile, as we passed a village, a single Christian, a man of Akkre, came out in a crowd of curious villagers, to offer his sympathy.  As each of us passed him, he bowed, with his head to the ground, and with the strongest expression of regard, urged us to remain with him there, as he would guarantee our safety.  It was not for us, however, to say, and we pressed forward; but Khudhr soon brought us the intelligence, which he had obtained here, that we were being led to the village of a Mullah, a very holy man, under whose protection we might feel entirely secure.  He added, that toward Oroomiah it would be quite impossible to go; our only escape was toward Mosul.”

The Mullah received them kindly, entertained them a day in his house, where all the diseased persons in the neighborhood were brought for them to cure, and started with them early on the morning of the 30th of May, to accompany them on their way back to Mosul.  On reaching a village, toward noon, a scene took place, which is of so much interest that we give Mr. Bacon’s account of it in full: