her hospitably.  There is no furniture of any sort but the divan, and we cook our own food, bring our own candles, jugs, basins, beds and everything.  If Sally and I were not such complete Arabs we should think it very miserable; but as things stand this year we say, Alhamdulillah it is no worse!  Luckily it is a very warm night, so we can make our arrangements unchilled.  There is no door to the cabin, so we nail up an old plaid, and, as no one ever looks into a hareem, it is quite enough.  All on board are Arabs—­captain, engineer, and men.  An English Sitt is a novelty, and the captain is unhappy that things are not alla Franca for me.  We are to tow three dahabiehs—­M.  Mounier’s, one belonging to the envoy from the Sultan of Darfour, and another.  Three steamers were to have done it, but the Pasha had a fancy for all the boats, and so our poor little craft must do her best.  Only fancy the Queen ordering all the river steamers up to Windsor!

At Minieh the Turkish General leaves us, and we shall have the boat to ourselves, so the captain has just been down to tell me.  I should like to go with the gentlemen from Darfor, as you may suppose.  See what strange combinations of people float on old Nile.  Two Englishwomen, one French (Mme. Mounier), one Frenchman, Turks, Arabs, Negroes, Circassians, and men from Darfor, all in one party; perhaps the third boat contains some other strange element.  The Turks are from Constantinople and can’t speak Arabic, and make faces at the muddy river water, which, indeed, I would rather have filtered.

I hope to have letters from home to-morrow morning.  Hassan, my faithful donkey-boy, will go to the post as soon as it is open and bring them down to Boulak.  Darling Rainie sent me a card with a cock robin for Christmas; how terribly I miss her dear little face and talk!  I am pretty well now; I only feel rather weaker than before and more easily tired.  I send you a kind letter of Mme. Tastu’s, who got her son to lend me the house at Thebes.

January 3, 1864:  Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.  ON BOARD THE STEAMER, NEAR SIOUT, Sunday, January 3, 1864.

Dearest Alick,

We left Cairo last Sunday morning, and a wonderfully queer company we were.  I had been promised all the steamer to myself, but owing to Ismail Pasha’s caprices our little steamer had to do the work of three—­i.e., to carry passengers, to tow M. Mounier’s dahabieh, and to tow the oldest, dirtiest, queerest Nubian boat, in which the young son of the Sultan of Darfoor and the Sultan’s envoy, a handsome black of Dongola (not a negro), had visited Ismail Pasha.  The best cabin was taken by a sulky old one-eyed Turkish Pasha, so I had the fore-cabin, luckily a large one, where I slept with Sally on one divan and I on the other, and Omar at my feet.  He tried sleeping