with money in it addressed to a Greek money-lender.  The discussion was quite general, the man, of course, denying all.  But the Nazir had sent word to beat him.  Then Omar burst out, ’What a shame to beat a poor man on the mere word of a Greek money-lender who eats the people; the Nazir shouldn’t help him.’  There was a Greek present who scowled at Omar, and the Turk gaped at him in horror.  Yussuf said, with his quiet smile, ‘My brother, thou art talking English,’ with a glance at me; and we all laughed, and I said, ‘Many thanks for the compliment.’  All the village is in good spirits; the Nile is rising fast, and a star of most fortunate character has made its appearance, so Yussuf tells me, and portends a good year and an end to our afflictions.  I am much better to-day, and I think I too feel the rising Nile; it puts new life into all things.  The last fortnight or three weeks have been very trying with the Simoom and intense heat.  I suppose I look better for the people here are for ever praising God about my amended looks.  I am too hot, and it is too dark to write more.

June 26, 1864:  Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.  LUXOR, June 26, 1864.

Dearest Alick,

I have just paid a singular visit to a political detenu or exile rather.  Last night Mustapha came in with a man in great grief who said his boy was very ill on board a cangia just come from Cairo and going to Assouan.  The watchman on the river-bank had told him that there was an English Sitt ‘who would not turn her face from anyone in trouble’ and advised him to come to me for medicine, so he went to Mustapha and begged him to bring him to me, and to beg the cawass (policeman) in charge of El-Bedrawee (who was being sent to Fazoghlou in banishment) to wait a few hours.  The cawass (may he not suffer for his humanity) consented.  He described his boy’s symptoms and I gave him a dose of castor oil and said I would go to the boat in the morning.  The poor fellow was a Cairo merchant but living at Khartoum, he poured out his sorrow in true Eastern style.  ’Oh my boy, and I have none but he, and how shall I come before his mother, a Habbesheeyeh, oh Lady, and tell her “thy son is dead"?’ So I said, ‘Allah kereem ya Seedee, and Inshallah tayib,’ etc., etc., and went this morning early to the boat.  It was a regular old Arab cangia lumbered up with corn, sacks of matting, a live sheep, etc., and there I found a sweet graceful boy of fifteen or so in a high fever.  His father said he had visited a certain Pasha on the way and evidently meant that he had been poisoned or had the evil eye.  I assured him it was only the epidemic and asked why he had not sent for the doctor at Keneh.  The old story!  He was afraid, ’God knows what a government doctor might do to the boy.’  Then Omar came in and stood before El-Bedrawee and said, ’Oh my master,