way?  But at this moment she discovered that she was not on a “P. & O.” steamer,—­it was a French steamer of the “Messagerie” line; they had stopped at Messina, and not at Malta.  She could not go back to Southampton, so she was told by an English colonel on his way to India.  He indeed was very courteous, and advised her to “go to an hotel” at Alexandria with some of the ladies, and send her telegrams from there.  To whom, however, would she wish to send a telegram?

“Who is Mr. Peterkin’s banker?” asked the Colonel.  Alas!  Mrs. Peterkin did not know.  He had at first selected a banker in London, but had afterward changed his mind and talked of a banker in Paris; and she was not sure what was his final decision.  She had known the name of the London banker, but had forgotten it, because she had written it down, and she never did remember the things she wrote down in her book.  That was her old memorandum-book, and she had left it at home because she had brought a new one for her travels.  She was sorry now she had not kept the old book.  This, however, was not of so much importance, as it did not contain the name of the Paris banker; and this she had never heard.  “Elizabeth Eliza would know;” but how could she reach Elizabeth Eliza?

Some one asked if there were not some friend in America to whom she could appeal, if she did not object to using the ocean telegraph.

“There is a friend in America,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “to whom we all of us do go for advice, and who always does help us.  She lives in Philadelphia.”

“Why not telegraph to her for advice?” asked her friends.

Mrs. Peterkin gladly agreed that it would be the best plan.  The expense of the cablegram would be nothing in comparison with the assistance the answer would bring.

Her new friends then invited her to accompany them to their hotel in Alexandria, from which she could send her despatch.  The thought of thus being able to reach her hand across the sea to the lady from Philadelphia gave Mrs. Peterkin fresh courage,—­courage even to make the landing.  As she descended the side of the ship and was guided down the steps, she closed her eyes that she might not see herself lifted into the many-oared boat by the wild-looking Arabs, of whom she had caught a glimpse from above.  But she could not close her ears; and as they approached the shore, strange sounds almost deafened her.  She closed her eyes again, as she was lifted from the boat and heard the wild yells and shrieks around her.  There was a clashing of brass, a jingling of bells, and the screams grew more and more terrific.  If she did open her eyes, she saw wild figures gesticulating, dark faces, gay costumes, crowds of men and boys, donkeys, horses, even camels, in the distance.  She closed her eyes once more as she was again lifted.  Should she now find herself on the back of one of those high camels?  Perhaps for this she came to Egypt.  But when she looked round again, she found she was leaning back in a comfortable open carriage, with a bottle of salts at her nose.  She was in the midst of a strange whirl of excitement; but all the party were bewildered, and she had scarcely recovered her composure when they reached the hotel.