Last year Mariette Bey made excavations at Gourneh forcing the people to work but promising payment at the rate of—­Well, when he was gone the four Sheykhs of the village at Gourneh came to Mustapha and begged him to advance the money due from Government, for the people were starving.  Mustapha agrees and gives above 300 purses—­about 1,000 pounds in current piastres on the understanding that he is to get the money from Government in tariff—­and to keep the difference as his profit.  If he cannot get it at all the fellaheen are to pay him back without interest.  Of course at the rate at which money is here, his profit would be but small interest on the money unless he could get the money directly, and he has now waited six months in vain.

Abdallah the son of el-Habbeshee of Damankoor went up the river in chains to Fazoghlou a fortnight ago and Osman Bey ditto last week—­El-Bedrawee is dead there, of course.

Shall I tell you what became of the hundred prisoners who were sent away after the Gau business?  As they marched through the desert the Greek memlook looked at his list each morning, and said, ’Hoseyn, Achmet, Foolan (like the Spanish Don Fulano, Mr. so and so), you are free; take off his chains.’  Well, the three or four men drop behind, where some arnouts strangle them out of sight.  This is banishment to Fazoghlou.  Do you remember le citoyen est elargi of the September massacres of Paris?  Curious coincidence, is it not?  Everyone is exasperated—­the very Hareem talk of the government.  It is in the air.  I had not been five minutes in Keneh before I knew all this and much more.  Of the end of Hajjee Sultan I will not speak till I have absolute certainty, but, I believe the proceeding was as I have described—­set free in the desert and murdered by the way.  I wish you to publish these facts, it is no secret to any but to those Europeans whose interests keep their eyes tightly shut, and they will soon have them opened.  The blind rapacity of the present ruler will make him astonish the Franks some day, I think.

Wheat is now 400 piastres the ardeb up here; the little loaf, not quite so big as our penny roll, costs a piastre—­about three-half-pence—­and all in proportion.  I need not say what the misery is.  Remember that this is the second levy of 220 men within six months, each for sixty days, as well as the second seizure of camels; besides the conscription, which serves the same purpose, as the soldiers work on the Pasha’s works.  But in Cairo they are paid—­and well paid.

It is curious how news travels here.  The Luxor people knew the day I left Alexandria, and the day I left Cairo, long before I came.  They say here that Abu-l-Hajjaj gave me his hand from Keneh, because he would not finish his moolid without me.  I am supposed to be specially protected by him, as is proved by my health being so far better here than anywhere else.