I rose sick at heart from the Mufettish’s harsh voice, and went down to listen to the Moonsheeds chanting at the tomb and the Zikheers’ strange sobbing, Allah, Allah.

I leaned on the mud wall watching the slender figures swaying in the moonlight, when a tall, handsome fellah came up in his brown shirt, felt libdeh (scull cap), with his blue cotton melaya tied up and full of dried bread on his back.  The type of the Egyptian.  He stood close beside me and prayed for his wife and children.  ’Ask our God to pity them, O Sheykh, and to feed them while I am away.  Thou knowest how my wife worked all night to bake all the wheat for me and that there is none left for her and the children.’  He then turned to me and took my hand and went on, ’Thou knowest this lady, oh Sheykh Gibreel, take her happy and well to her place and bring her back to us—­el Fathah, yah Beshoosheh!’ and we said it together.  I could have laid my head on Sheykh Gibreel’s wall and howled.  I thanked him as well as I could for caring about one like me while his own troubles were so heavy.  I shall never forget that tall athletic figure and the gentle brown face, with the eleven days’ moon of Zulheggeh, and the shadow of the palm tree.  That was my farewell.  ’The voice of the miserable is with thee, shall God not hear it?’

Next day Omar had a sharp attack of fever and was delirious—­it lasted only two days but left him very weak and the anxiety and trouble was great—­for my helping hands were as awkward as they were willing.

In a few days arrived the boat Urania.  She is very nice indeed.  A small saloon, two good berths—­bath and cabinet, and very large kasneh (stern cabin).  She is dirty, but will be extremely comfortable when cleaned and painted.  On the 15th we sailed.  Sheykh Yussuf went with me to Keneh, Mustapha and Seyd going by land—­and one of Hajjee Sultan’s disciples and several Luxor men were deck passengers.  The Shereef gave me the bread and jars of butter for his grandsons in Gama’l Azhar, and came to see me off.  We sat on the deck outside as there was a crowd to say good-bye and had a lot of Hareem in the cabin.  The old Shereef made me sit down on the carpet close to him and then said ’we sit here like two lovers’—­at eighty-five even an Arab and a Shereef may be “gaillard”—­so I cried, ’Oh Shereef, what if Omar tells my master the secret thou hast let out—­it is not well of thee.’  There was a great laugh which ended in the Shereef saying ’no doubt thy master is of the best of the people, let us say the Fathah for him,’ and he called on all the people ’El Fathah for the master of the lady!’ I hope it has benefited you to be prayed for at Luxor.

I had written so far and passed Minieh when I fell ill with pleurisy—­I’ve lots more to tell of my journey but am too weak after two weeks in bed (and unable to lie down from suffocation)—­but I am much better now.  A man from the Azhar is reading the Koran for me outside—­while another is gone with candles to Seyeedele Zeynet ‘the fanatics!’