The sale of small antiquities to tourists on the public roads is prohibited, except at certain places, but of course it can be done with impunity by the exercise of a little care.  Men and boys and even little girls as they pass will stare at you with studying eyes, and if you seem to be a likely purchaser, they will draw from the folds of their garments some little object which they will offer for sale.  Along the road in the glory of the setting sun there will come as fine a young man as you will see on a day’s march.  Surely he is bent on some noble mission:  what lofty thoughts are occupying his mind, you wonder.  But as you pass, out comes the scarab from his pocket, and he shouts, “Wanty scarab, mister?—­two shillin’,” while you ride on your way a greater cynic than before.

Some years ago a large inscribed stone was stolen from a certain temple, and was promptly sold to a man who sometimes traded in such objects.  This man carried the stone, hidden in a sack of grain, to the house of a friend, and having deposited it in a place of hiding, he tramped home, with his stick across his shoulders, in an attitude of deep unconcern.  An enemy of his, however, had watched him, and promptly gave information.  Acting on this the police set out to search the house.  When we reached the entrance we were met by the owner, and a warrant was shown to him.  A heated argument followed, at the end of which the infuriated man waved us in with a magnificent and most dramatic gesture.  There were some twenty rooms in the house, and the stifling heat of a July noon made the task none too enjoyable.  The police inspector was extremely thorough in his work, and an hour had passed before three rooms had been searched.  He looked into the cupboards, went down on his knees to peer into the ovens, stood on tiptoe to search the fragile wooden shelves (it was a heavy stone which we were looking for), hunted under the mats, and even peeped into a little tobacco-tin.  In one of the rooms there were three or four beds arranged along the middle of the floor.  The inspector pulled off the mattresses, and out from under each there leapt a dozen rats, which, if I may be believed, made for the walls and ran straight up them, disappearing in the rafter-holes at the top.  The sight of countless rats hurrying up perpendicular walls may be familiar to some people, but I venture to call it an amazing spectacle, worthy of record.  Then came the opening of one or two travelling-trunks.  The inspector ran his hand through the clothes which lay therein, and out jumped a few more rats, which likewise went up the walls.  The searching of the remaining rooms carried us well through the afternoon; and at last, hot and weary, we decided to abandon the hunt.  Two nights later a man was seen walking away from the house with a heavy sack on his back; and the stone is now, no doubt, in the Western hemisphere.