“You did not mention what you considered most precious on the night of the fire; so I dreamed that I saw one young lady hugging a German grammar to her bosom; another with a pair of curling tongs, a tooth-pick, and a pinafore; another with a bunch of used-up postage stamps and autographs in a crinoline turned upside down, and a fourth lifted up Madame Hocede and insisted on carrying her as her most precious baggage.  Her name, which I did not catch, will go down to posterity alongside of the ladies who each carried out her husband from the besieged city, and took care never to let him hear the last on’t afterward.  I am so penetrated with admiration of her that I enclose the wing of a flying-fish for her.  It lighted among us last night, while we were at dinner, coming right through the skylight.  You will make use of this fact in the high-flying speech which you will deliver to her in French.”

Zanzibar is at length reached on the 28th January, after a voyage of twenty-three days, tedious enough, though but half the length of the cruise in the “Nyassa” two years before.  To Agnes: 

“29_th Jan_.—­We went to call to-day on the Sultan.  His Highness met us at the bottom of the stair, and as he shook hands a brass band, which he got at Bombay, blared forth ’God save the Queen’!  This was excessively ridiculous, but I maintained sufficient official gravity.  After coffee and sherbet we came away, and the wretched band now struck up ‘The British Grenadier,’ as if the fact of my being only 5 feet 8, and Brebner about 2 inches lower, ought not to have suggested ‘Wee Willie Winkie’ as more appropriate.  I was ready to explode, but got out of sight before giving way.”

Dr. Livingstone brought a very cordial recommendation to the Sultan from Sir Bartle Frere, and experienced much kindness at his hand.  Being ill with toothache, the Sultan could not receive the gift of the “Thule” in person, and it was presented through his commodore.

Livingstone was detained in Zanzibar nearly two months waiting for H.M.S.  “Penguin,” which was to convey him to the mouth of the Rovuma.  Zanzibar life was very monotonous—­“It is the old, old way of living—­eating, drinking, sleeping; sleeping, drinking, eating.  Getting fat; slaving-dhows coming and slaving-dhows going away; bad smells; and kindly looks from English folks to each other.”  The sight of slaves in the Zanzibar market, and the recognition of some who had been brought from Nyassa, did not enliven his visit, though it undoubtedly confirmed his purpose and quickened his efforts to aim another blow at the accursed trade.  Always thinking of what would benefit Africa, he writes to Sir Thomas Maclear urging very strongly the starting of a line of steamers between the Cape, Zanzibar, and Bombay:  “It would be a most profitable one, and would do great good, besides, in eating out the trade in slaves.”

At last the “Penguin” came for him, and once more, and for the last time, Livingstone left for the Dark Continent.