To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.  CAIRO, December 17, 1863.

Dearest Alick,

At last I hope I shall get off in a few days.  I have had one delay and bother after another, chiefly caused by relying on the fine speeches of Mr. D. On applying straight to the French Consulate at Alexandria, Janet got me the loan of the Maison de France at Thebes at once.  M. Mounier, the agent to Halim Pasha, is going up to Esneh, and will let me travel in the steamer which is to tow his dahabieh.  It will be dirty, but will cost little and take me out of this dreadful cold weather in five or six days.

December 22.—­I wrote the above five days ago, since when I have had to turn out of Thayer’s house, as his new Vice-Consul wanted it, and am back at Briggs’.  M. Mounier is waiting in frantic impatience to set off, and I ditto; but Ismail Pasha keeps him from day to day.  The worry of depending on anyone in the East is beyond belief.  Tell your mother that Lady Herbert is gone up the river; her son was much the better for Cairo.  I saw Pietro, her courier, who is stupendously grand, he offered Omar 8 pounds a month to go with them; you may imagine how Pietro despised his heathenish ignorance in preferring to stay with me for 3 pounds.  It quite confirmed him in his contempt for the Arabs.

You would have laughed to hear me buying a carpet.  I saw an old broker with one on his shoulder in the bazaar, and asked the price, ’eight napoleons’—­then it was unfolded and spread in the street, to the great inconvenience of passers-by, just in front of a coffee-shop.  I look at it superciliously, and say, ‘Three hundred piastres, O uncle,’ the poor old broker cries out in despair to the men sitting outside the coffee-shop:  ’O Muslims, hear that and look at this excellent carpet.  Three hundred piastres!  By the faith, it is worth two thousand!’ But the men take my part and one mildly says:  ’I wonder that an old man as thou art should tell us that this lady, who is a traveller and a person of experience, values it at three hundred—­thinkest thou we will give thee more?’ Then another suggests that if the lady will consent to give four napoleons, he had better take them, and that settles it.  Everybody gives an opinion here, and the price is fixed by a sort of improvised jury.

Christmas Day.—­At last my departure is fixed.  I embark to-morrow afternoon at Boulak, and we sail—­or steam, rather—­on Sunday morning early, and expect to reach Thebes in eight days.  I heard a curious illustration of Arab manners to-day.  I met Hassan, the janissary of the American Consulate, a very respectable, good man.  He told me he had married another wife since last year—­I asked what for.  It was the widow of his brother who had always lived with him in the same house, and who died leaving two boys.  She is neither young nor handsome, but he considered it his duty to provide for her and the