CHAPTER L.

CHRISTMAS NIGHT IN BETHLEHEM.

ON our return to Jerusalem, we devoted the few days intervening before the 25th of December to a more thorough exploration of the neighborhood. So familiar now to every reader of Oriental travels are the Tombs of the Judges, the Mount of Olives, the Grotto of Jeremiah, the Mount of Zion, and all the places famed in sacred and classical history, that it would be a difficult task to add any thing new to what has been written on these subjects.

I had heard much in regard to the ruinous aspect of modern Jerusalem; and, strange as it may appear, was rather disappointed in not finding it so dilapidated a city as I had supposed it to be. Indeed, it seemed to me in quite as good condition as most of the cities which I had seen in Turkey and Syria. The first view on the approach by the Damascus road, is strangely beautiful and impressive. The white mosques, and minarets, and rounded domes, and the fine old gateways, are strikingly Oriental. The houses and bazaars in the upper and middle parts of the town, toward the Jaffa gate, are as good as any in Beirut, and not at all like what one might expect in Jerusalem.

On Christmas afternoon, having made up our minds to spend the night in Bethlehem, we set out with a crowd of Frank pilgrims, and in due time arrived at the convent. This building is very large and of irregular form; and is said by the monks to be built over the Grotto of the Manger. The most reliable authorities deny that there is any reasonable ground for the assumption. We found the whole village of Bethlehem filled to overflowing with pilgrims from all countries; and it was not without difficulty that we obtained a room in the convent, which was already overflowing with visitors.

In that old convent I passed the most memorable Christmas of my life; and I sincerely hope it was the last of the kind that I am destined ever to spend. To give the remotest idea of the ceremonies would be utterly impossible; and if I thought that a single reasonable being in any civilized country, no matter of what persuasion, could look upon them with other feelings than those of disapproval and humiliation, I would not even acknowledge that I was there.

Long before midnight the crowd was dense and crushing. Hundreds of monks, bearing candles, were assembled around the main altar. There was a waxen image there; a strange disgusting thing, with staring eyes of glass, tawny akin, and wrinkled neck; its cheeks puffed out, and its mouth slightly open, as if it had been suffocated with thick incenses. A string of beads was coiled up on its breast. It was dressed in white, and glared strangely with silver spangles and tawdry lace.

They laid it on its back on the altar; and they talked to it, and chanted, and prostrated themselves in its presence; and the wild glare of many lamps glistened upon their pale greasy faces and shaven heads; and anon they turned to the pictures on the walls, of bleeding and mutilated saints, and bowed down again with closed eyes, and chanted their heathenish rites, and moaned for the wickedness of the unbelieving.

In jostling crowds they put aside the staring and affrighted Arabs, and went from alcove to alcove in a scorching halo of light; and hour after hour, as the incense and foul air rose thicker and thicker over the heads of the swaying mass, they fell prostrate before the ugly wax image, and chanted the glory of the new-born.

On the floor, surging around the many feet, was a sea of human heads, bald and blue with recent shaving, and the grizzled beards of the old were frothy as the foam wrought by a fierce tempest. There was something intensely brutish and disgusting in the whole spectacle. I could not but think that it was rank blasphemy, this exhibition of pretended divinity in a miserable wax image; a thousand times more barbarous than the heathenish rites of savages. The great fat monks, in their coarse sackcloth, with their shaven heads and bare feet; the sweat standing in big drops on their faces; their eyes rolling wildly in their heads; their hoarse chants grating harshly upon the air; the lustful expression with which they turned from the altar, and on their bended knees gazed into the faces of the women, presented a scene too sadly impressive ever to be forgotten.

At the hour of twelve, they lifted with awful looks the tawdry babe from its resting-place on the altar, and held it up for the multitude to gaze upon; and then they bore it off in clouds of incense, through long winding passages, and descended into the cave, and laid it down upon a rock; and the wax candles cast a pale and ghastly light upon it, and as it lay there with its round glass eyes staring at them, they fell prostrate and worshiped it, and chanted, and moaned, and wept at the feet of the panting crowd. Again they rose, and with hot, blood-shot eyes, scowled malignantly upon the heretics that pressed down upon them to see the strange spectacle; and in the thickness of the foul atmosphere, and the gloom of the dark, reeking cavern, they looked slimy and monstrous, and I thought it was the most sickening exhibition of brutish superstition that the eye of man could behold. Parched with thirst and dazzled with the unceasing glare of lights thrust in my eyes for hours before, humiliated by the degrading spectacle, and sick at heart, I struggled out from the crushing mass, and groped my way up the winding passages to our quarters in the convent. I lay down, my brain burning with visions of monstrous and unholy rites, and strove to sleep; but, hour after hour, I started up and wondered what strange, unearthly sounds fell upon my ears; what fearful spectres were painted upon the air; what weight of horror lay like a night-mare upon my breast. Can it be, I thought, that--

Affrights me with a hell of ugly devils?"

Or is it that men are driven mad by the terrors of death; that they thus draw darkness out of the future and swallow it into their souls? Is it that all this is done in the name of that merciful Redeemer, whose words fall like balm upon the heart?

And then, as the night waned, and the sounds fell fainter and fainter upon the air, a soothing calm stole over me, and closing my eyes, I wandered back in thought to a happy home across the waters, and saw around the peaceful fireside on a Christmas night, a circle of familiar faces, all gentle. and smiling, all radiant with hope; and kindly greetings passed; and pleasant words were spoken, and the happy past was revived, and bright anticipations of the future beamed upon every face; and I inwardly thanked God that so much of good was yet left upon earth, so much of bright promise in the future; and in the soothing of those happy memories and the hopefulness of better things to come, I committed myself to the keeping of Him who showeth the path of life, in whose presence is fullness of joy, at whose right hand are pleasures for evermore.

CHAPTER LI

CROSSING THE RIVERS.

THE heavy rains during our stay in Jerusalem had swollen the rivers, so that on our journey from Jaffa along the coast we were frequently stopped, and compelled to make a detour of several miles in order to find a crossing-place. Even then, owing to flats and marshes, we were subject to danger and inconvenience, and sometimes reduced to the necessity of dismounting, and hiring some of the neighboring Arabs who were acquainted with the fords to drive our horses before us and carry ourselves across on their backs. The mules usually contrived, about midway in these difficult passages, to get fast in the mud, and upset themselves and the baggage; which always occasioned the most intense excitement among the Arabs. To give any idea of the shouting, and shrieking, and flourishing of sticks; the frantic lamentations on all sides; the thundering reproaches of Yusef; or the remonstrances of the Howadji against the damage of their precious curiosities, would be entirely out of the question. I shall content myself by leaving all that to the imagination of the reader, and presenting a sketch of what impressed me as the most picturesque feature in the scene.

The position is striking, and not altogether ungraceful. It has the advantage of making one pair of legs answer a double purpose--that of carrying the owner across the river, and at the same time the Howadji who is mounted upon the back of the owner; and it presents the Howadji in rather a more elevated point of view than if the legs of both parties were in the water; which, however, sometimes happens before they reach the opposite bank. Should the Arab who acts the part of carrier in these cases, accidentally step upon the point of a sharp stick, and suddenly let go his hold, the probability is, that the hold of the gentleman upon his back will reduce both parties to a level, but not to an equality; because the more elevated naturally falls underneath, and he not only suffers from the disaster, but is obliged in the end to pay backshish for a back that failed to carry him over, and no deduction made for getting his own back saturated with mud and water:

At one of these fords we met our old friend Maximilian, the celebrated Greek patriarch, who, in company with a high-priest of the same church, performed his pilgrimage to Jerusalem in a basket. Experience had taught him the danger of depending upon a mule when a river was to be crossed; for, on one occasion, the mule upon which the two baskets were hung--that of Maximilian on one side, and that of the high-priest on the other--took it into his head to lie down, which he did in spite of all the Arabs, and it was with difficulty that the venerable pilgrims were rescued from a watery grave. Hence, the wily old patriarch, being too infirm to stand much moving, hit upon the expedient of having himself carried across all future rivers in the following manner:

He caused a stout Arab to get under the basket when they arrived at a river; and at a given signal the ropes being unfastened from the mule, and placed in the hands of the carrier, so as to form a secure way of balancing the load, the basket and the patriarch were borne off at the same time, and safely landed on the opposite side, unless in case of accident. If any accident occurred we heard nothing of it. My impression is that Maximilian reached Jerusalem in safety.

Any person unacquainted with these circumstances, would, perhaps, at the first glance, imagine that the sketch is designed to represent a peculiar race of men never before heard of; with long beards, basket bodies, and an unusual number of arms and legs, and the knees of the two principal legs turned backward, so that these singularly-constructed people may see what is going on behind them while they walk. There are many curious races of men in the world, according to the narratives of enterprising travelers; but I will not undertake to say that such a race as this is to be found in Palestine. Although fully impressed with that belief when I saw the Greek patriarch mounted in his basket, upon the back of an Arab, I now give this explanation to caution the general reader, as well as all physiologists and scientific men, to be careful how they fall into the same error.

CHAPTER LII.

THE DESOLATE CITY.

THIS was a dreary day; from the rising of the sun nothing in sight but a waste of waters on the left, a desert plain on the right, and the blanched and rugged heights of Carmel dim in the distance. Our road lay along the coast of Phoenicia, over barren rocks and beds of sand, all parched and shadow-less.

Evening came, and thick clouds covered the sky; the sun was hid in the gloom; there was neither heat nor cold, nor glare nor darkness; but a dim, death-like pall was outspread upon the earth. No bird of the air or beast of the field was in sight; no sound broke upon the stillness but the sad moaning of the surf; no sign of life, or hope, or promise was within. the last sweep of desolation around.

We rode silently on our way; and about the seventh hour of our journey from El Mukhalid, we beheld afar upon the shore a ruined city. Fragments of walls and towers rent asunder, and masses of ramparts, shattered by earthquakes and the ravages of war, loomed darkly through the haze. The Arabs stopped, and, pointing to the ruins, said that there lay all that was left of Cesarea.

We rode on, and drawing near saw that ghostly city was walled around with ramparts, and masses of ruin were scattered round about over the plain. A few sickly weeds grew among the banks of broken columns and shattered walls; but there was neither shrub nor leaflet nor green sod there; all was withered and lifeless.

I stopped awhile to sketch the ruins, while my comrades passed through and went their way toward Tantura. When I had finished, I entered through a crumbling archway, and wandered about, lost in wonder at the utter desolation of the place. Not a living soul was there; not a living thing that I could see; not a sigh, or whisper, or sound of life came from out of the ruins. The silence of death was every where; not even the low wail of the surf now reached me through the masses of shattered walls; and I thought how terrible was the wrath that had thus smitten the abodes of men with destruction; how "the Lord maketh the earth empty, and maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down, and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof."

There was nothing but ruin every where; high walls rent in gaping fissures; towers shivered asunder to their bases; great archways cast down in rugged masses; streets choked and filled with shattered columns or covered over with blasted earth, all waste and sodless. Not a bird of good or evil omen sat upon the fragments; not a beast haunted the ruins; it was all still, all silent and without life.

Ruined cities there are, scattered broadcast throughout this land of desolation; yet all that I had seen had some remnant of vitality within their walls. Dark and squalid men and masked women haunted them; dogs and wild beasts of prey and birds of evil omen fed upon the dead things that were cast out from the doors; but here there was nothing of the present; all was silent, all dead. No foul odors from dark and narrow streets; no bearded men with downcast faces, stalking sadly through the fallen city; no dark-eyed women to steal a flashing look at the stranger; no human voice to utter a word of welcome, or say, Depart in peace; no moody follower of the Prophet to scowl his hatred, or stalk unheeding by; all was of the past.

I sat upon a broken column, and looking with a saddened heart upon this scene of desolation, wondered what had become of all that had lived here; the good, the wicked-the brave, the beautiful, and the gay; how lived they; how died they; were all the records of their deeds for centuries past buried with them, and nothing left; was there happiness within these walls; did they feel as we who looked upon these ruins felt; did they look back over the past and forward to the future, and in their ambition encircle the wide world, and turn to dust at last to feed the worms of the earth and nourish the weeds; and was this mass of ruins all they had left to mark the spot?

There was not a breath to answer; not a leaf to whisper of the past; all gone, never to be seen upon earth again: not a soul but myself was there--a stranger from a distant land the only inhabitant now.

In the grave-yard there is only the gloom of death; silence is all we look for there; but here, in the abiding-place of men, where once there was the din of life, there was the silence of death and more than its gloom; for these walls were built for the living. I had wandered through ruins in another clime, where two thousand years ago a city was buried, and all were buried within it in the midst of life; yet I saw their homes unchanged; the frescoes upon the walls; the marks idly made by the soldiers; the bedrooms, the wine-cellars, the signs upon the doors, the tracks of the carriage-wheels in the streets, as they were buried two thousand years ago; so fresh, so life-like, that one would scarcely be startled to see the dead arise and resume their avocations. But here nothing but the bare and ruined walls was left to tell of the past; there was no connecting link to unite it with the present; nothing within the shattered gateways, or abroad over the desert around, but fragments of columns and massive stones--a waste of ruins; all dreary and voiceless--all wrapt in desolation.

The silence of a ship upon the sea at night, when all are buried in sleep, and the waters have ceased their dirge, is without gloom; for the stars in the heavens are worlds where thought may wander; where the soul may drink in the beauties of the firmament; and if the darkness be upon the deep, then its mysteries are eloquent; in its unfathomable caves lie wonders that can never cease to inspire glowing thoughts of the greatness of the Omnipotent.

Not such is the Desolate City; the city of the silent dead. Here is nothing to tell of them that dwelt there. The land is laid waste, and the earth mourneth and fadeth away. "The Lord hath done that which he had devised; he hath fulfilled his word that he had commanded in the days of old: he hath thrown down and hath not pitied."

Such is Kaisariyeh--once a proud city of the Phoenicians; now all that remains of Cesarea Palestina.

CHAPTER LIII

A SERIOUS CHARGE.

AT Tantura an incident occurred which any gentleman of respectable standing in society might well be excused for passing over in silence. I do not believe a similar case is to be found in all the records of Syrian travel, though, doubtless, many a traveler has had personal experience of the same kind. It was an unpleasant charge, to say the least of it; a provoking and unmerited charge; one that touches the very soul of an honorable man in the tenderest part. Fain would I proceed on the journey, and leave Tantura to future travelers; but a desire to maintain that spirit of candor and truthfulness by which it has been my constant endeavor to distinguish this narrative from all others, induces me to give a full exposition of the facts.

Tantura is a small village by the sea-side; the houses are also small and very dirty, like all the houses in Palestine. Such a thing as a hotel is not known in Tantura, or even a common tavern, or the remotest approach to any thing like it. There ought to be a Khan there; the traveling public require it, and would patronize such an establishment, but Tantura is Khanless; there is not even a can of milk to be had for love or money. The only place we could find to stop at was a small hut, situated in a pond of green and stagnant water. There was room for improvement all about the house, but not much room inside; at all events, not any to spare, considering that the occupants for the single apartment of which it consisted were already two mules, four goats, several dozen of chickens, and the owner and his wife. Add to this our party of Howadji, servants and muleteers, and there is little left to subtract except the vermin, which might be continually subtracted for many years, and yet leave a remainder. The old Arab, who claimed to be proprietor, was a cadaverous and unwholesome-looking person, broken down in spirits, and evidently laboring under a complication of domestic miseries. His wife was a leather-faced, sharp-featured, shrewish sort of body, who seemed to be continually spurring and goading the old man on to make himself useful, never ceasing for five minutes to keep him at work, and always extremely enraged when he sat down to smoke. I had strong reason for believing that she had bought him with money, and was taking the worth of it out in petty installments; or, it might be, that she really thought the affairs of the house required constant and laborious attention, or they might in the course of time become deranged.

After our evening repast was over, being rather tired, we spread our mattresses and lay down, as we supposed, for the night. But it was not for the night, nor for more than a very small part of it; because, as I said before, the house itself was unpromising, the landlord was unpromising, his wife was unpromising, and the whole establishment gave no promise whatever except that of vermin, which was faithfully fulfilled. We had a great abundance, and were not at all disappointed. I was so little disappointed myself that long after my companions fell asleep, which they did at last, I rolled about in extreme bodily anguish, wishing that some of the genii said to exist in those countries would transfer me to the meanest stable-loft at home. There was a dim wick burning in a small earthen lamp, in one corner of the house, by which I was enabled to look about and see if there was any possibility of bettering my condition. Rubbish and dirt abounded in every direction, so that it was some time before I could make out what there was in the opposite corner--rather a darkish sort of place, with some mud cupboards or shelves, not very clearly defined. The thought struck me that there might be some cavity or elevated hole there in which I could stow myself away above ground. It was a very happy thought, and a very bright thought under the circumstances, but not a lucky one, take it altogether. Wishing to disturb nobody, I crept cautiously over two or three snoring Arabs, and reached the corner without waking a living soul, so far as I knew. It was a capital place; indeed, I may say such a snug sort of spot for a quiet nap as would have enchanted any man of imagination. In the corner, and extending along the wall to the length of six or seven feet, was a kind of mud cupboard, with two or three large cavities or shelves in it, a good deal like the place for dead bodies in the catacombs of Rome. But it was not the holes that I was so pleased with; they were all filled with old earthen vessels, kettles, pans, and other loose rubbish; it was the space which I supposed to be on top that charmed me. The mud-work was very frail, and shook a good deal when I began to climb up, but by groping my way cautiously, and balancing the whole structure whenever it began to give way, I got on top at last, about ten feet from the ground, and was greatly rejoiced to find that it was a most admirable place for a night's rest. All it wanted was to be cleared up a little, the surface being covered with onions to the depth of two or three inches. I had thrown my coat up before me, which I often used as a pillow, and, having nowhere else to put the onions, began forthwith to gather them up in a pile at one end, and stow them under the coat, so as to make a comfortable resting-place for the head. This I was doing as quietly as possible, from a desire not to disturb my friends who were asleep down below. While I was raking up the last of the onions, and carefully balancing myself lest the cupboard should fall over and kill somebody, I distinctly heard a voice in the opposite corner of the house; a woman's voice; low but sharp enough to be the voice of the old man's wife, which it unquestionably was. Then there was a guttural response; then the woman's voice again, a little louder and a good deal sharper; another guttural response; a thumping sound, followed by a groan, and then out of the darkness crept the old man, looking up at me as he approached with an expression of countenance in which terror, anxiety, and astonishment predominated. He kept staring at me for some moments to my great surprise, mumbling over something to himself in Arabic, of which I understood not a single word except Howadji. "Well," said I, leaning over the top of the cupboard, "what do you want with the Howadji, old gentleman? Can't you let me make a bed here?" To this he responded as before, only with more spirit, having apparently taken courage at the gentle manner in which I addressed him. Unable to understand him, I resumed the gathering up of the onions. The female voice in the corner again reached my ears, and the old Arab became quite violent. "My friend," said I, rather annoyed, "you are wasting breath. Really I can't understand a word you say. Ho, Yusef! wake up. Ask this old gentleman what he wants." Yusef woke up and rubbed his eyes. "What's the matter, O General? Where is your Excellency?" "Here," said I, "up here on top of the catacombs in the corner." "Bless my soul! And this old fool, what does he want?" " In faith, Yusef, I don't know. He's been growling at me like a bear for ten minutes." Yusef turned fiercely upon the old Arab, and addressed him in tones of thunder. What the answer was I don't know; it certainly was not of a satisfactory nature, for I never before saw Yusef so enraged and, indignant. He drew his sword, and would doubtless have put the poor man to death on the spot had not the voice of the woman broken in at this juncture, which caused him to return it to the scabbard in some trepidation, and cover himself up as quickly as possible in his blanket; upon which the old Arab made the best of his way back to the dark corner where his wife was. Yusef now raised up his head again, looked cautiously around him, and indignantly uttered these words: "By Allah! this is too bad! O General! General, my blood boils; for heaven's sake, let me kill somebody; quick, let me kill somebody; I can't stand it, I must.'' "Stop, Yusef! There must be no bloodshed here! What did the man say to you?" "Say? O wherefore do you ask me? How can I repeat it? I'm ashamed of my country. In six months, O General, you shall see Yusef Badra in America." "Nay, but I command you to tell me. Out with it, if you choke in the effort. What did he say?" "He said, O General! he said you were stealing his onions! he declared by the holy beard of the Prophet that he saw you at it himself; that with his own eyes he beheld you gather them up and put them in a bag." "Good heavens, Yusef !" "Yea, he called upon his wife to save him from my just wrath; and what do you think she said, O General? Can you guess what she said?" "No, indeed, Yusef; I am perfectly confounded." "She said she missed some of them about a week ago, and had no doubt now that you were the same fellow that stole them, as nobody else knew where they were. Likewise she said, O General, that if I molested her husband she would proceed at once to tear the eyes out of my head, and then enter a complaint against me before the Turkish authorities at Acre, and, at the same time, have your excellency bastinadoed for theft."

It was enough; I got down from the top of the cupboard, mildly reproved my companions for making a laughing matter of so serious a charge; requested Yusef to light my chibouck and say no more; calmly seated myself on a spare mat and gave free indulgence to melancholy reflection. Oh destiny! had it come to this?--to this at last! That I, who had spent four precious years of my life in the Treasury Department of the United States; whose chief study was the study of the banking system; whose most earnest hope was, never, by any visitation of Providence, to be Secretary of the Treasury, president of a bank, or signer of a circulating note; that I, whose only ambition was to be thought an honest man as well as to be one in reality; that I, who had chased the mighty leviathan of the deep, slept in the veritable castle of the renowned Crusoe, dug the glittering ore out of the gold mines of California, explored the remotest corners of the earth for the benefit of mankind; that I, who had smiled at the Queen of Greece, and frowned at Otho, King of Greece; who had entered upon the grandest Crusade against the Mists of Fancy that ever was conceived by the soul of Chivalry, should at last be accused of stealing onions! Enough! enough! I turned over, put my pipe away, and went fast asleep; for I was callous to fleas now; they might bite me by millions; rats and mice might gnaw at my vitals, but I was totally resigned to all earthly afflictions that could be piled upon me; and the consequence was, I slept soundly till morning.

CHAPTER LIV.

AN EXTRAORDINARY AFFAIR.

DOCTOR Mendoza and the Madam occupied the house next door. I was going to say they slept there; but they slept nowhere at all on the present occasion. They were wide awake all night; there was no sleep in Tantura for persons of fastidious taste on the subject of hotels: the contrast indeed was rather striking between the accommodations of Tantura and St. Petersburg. Perhaps there never was a more wretched house made by human hands than that occupied by Doctor Mendoza and the Madam--except ours, and I defy the whole world to produce such lodgings as we had.

In the morning at break of day, I went out to shake off some of the acquaintances of the night; the Doctor and the Madam were sitting upon a pile of baggage in front of their hotel, groaning in a most disconsolate manner. We were always strictly Parisian in our politeness--no matter under what circumstances we met--especially the Madam, who had been educated in the true French school. It would have done any man of feeling good to see her when she rose from the baggage and returned my salutation; it was the most striking exhibition of politeness under difficulties that I ever beheld. Her skin was perfectly green, spotted over with red bites; her nose swollen to an unusual size by repeated attacks made by noxious reptiles; her hair disheveled and uncombed, and her dress and general exterior, covered with dirty straw and mud. Yet she bowed as gracefully and smiled as pleasantly, as ever bowed and smiled a lady in the dress circles of a Parisian Opera-house. It was really charming to behold such unruffled politeness. "Oh, Monsieur Général! Monsieur Général! was all she could say--"Quel jolie ville, Tantura! Quel hôtel Parisien! Oh, Mon Dieu!' and throwing up her hands, she sank down again upon the baggage in the most graceful manner. I verily believe if it were the fate of the Madam to be seized by a Royal Bengal tiger she would melt him by her politeness, or die gracefully in his teeth.

Doctor Mendoza's skin was greener than ever; that is to say, the green predominated, but there were yellow spots, and red and black spots all over his face, which gave some variety of color to his features. There was but little variety in the expression, however, for it was that of unmitigated disgust for Tantura and its accommodations. The corners of his mouth almost tied themselves in a knot under his chin, and his under lip formed a perfect representation of a piece of beef-steak thoroughly saturated with water.

"Good-morning, Doctor," said I; "how did you pass the night ?"

"No pass de night!" replied the Doctor gloomily, "'tis imposs to sleep. Very bad place dis. Hotel are not good in Tantura. Very bad hotel. De Madam is indispose. He shall have pleasure to arrive at Beirut. Very good hotel in Beirut. I no like dis country. Tis interess for the ruin, but I no like the ruin for sleep in, cos 'tis imposs to sleep. Very much pulce for bite. No get much to eat here; no much flesh on the Arab for manger. 'Tis necess for eat de traveler. I shall be tres contents to leave Tantura--'Tis imposs to remain here."

I really felt very sorry for the Doctor; he looked so green and dejected, so utterly incapable of enjoying misery, so wrapt up in that single idea of a comfortable hotel, that I declare upon my honor had it been in my power I would have built a hotel on the spot, and given him the very best room in it. There was no help for him, however; and expressing my sympathy for his unhappy condition, I returned into the hut to dispatch a hasty cup of coffee before starting upon our journey.

Yusef had prepared a good breakfast of stewed chicken and rice; but having no appetite, I contented myself with the coffee and a small piece of bread; after which I called for a chibouck, and endeavored to soothe my nervous system by a comfortable smoke. The conversation turned incidentally upon the affair of the onions. I was averse to any allusion to so humiliating an episode in our tour, and made several attempts to change the subject. It was no easy matter, as may be supposed, to silence our dragoman when any thing unusual was weighing upon his mind; he had to give vent to his indignation in some way, and the most natural was by talking.

Although he spoke in English which it was not likely the old Arab woman understood, he had hitherto kept a guarded watch upon his tongue; but now finding she had disappeared, he broke forth in his usual strain of violence. He denounced the whole female sex as the root of all evil; he protested that he would sooner be tied to the tail of a wild horse than to any female that ever breathed; he swore that the insult offered by that old hag to his beloved friend and master, would rankle in his breast until he had slain every male member in the family. I was greatly moved at this avowal of sympathy and devotion, and did my best to soothe the excited feelings of Yusef, by telling him that the greatest of mankind were subject to the caprices of fate; that charges alike humiliating had been preferred against high officers of state and other great men, who required far more to be distinguished for integrity than myself; that in the present case this was an ignorant old woman, who was more to be pitied for her ignorance than blamed for the injustice she had done me; that it was, very true many evils in this life could be traced to the gentler sex, yet we could not well do without this source of trouble, for were we alone in the world we would find ourselves much more miserable, and in all probability would pine away for want of something to make us only as unhappy as we were before, and in the end become totally extinct. To this Yusef replied that he felt the full force of my remarks, and would even go as far as to admit that perhaps this was one of the necessary evils of life; but what he most insisted upon was, that there was no other evil that did not spring from the female sex; in illustration of which he related the well-known case of the Persian Shah, who had repeatedly demonstrated the truth of the axiom. I had read about this case somewhere, and it was already known to me, but inasmuch as the reader may not be familiar with it, I may as well add that this renowned Shah was in the habit of asking, whenever any disaster occurred--Who was she? meaning thereby, who was the female that caused it. On one occasion a poor stone-mason fell from the top of a house and broke his leg. The Shah demanded the name of the woman. His attendants said it was not a woman, but a poor stone-mason. "Who was she?" repeated the Shah. "Go find out what woman caused this accident." The attendants did so; they inquired of the poor mason, and ascertained that while he was at work on the top of the house, he saw a beautiful woman in the street, and in leaning over to see her, the better, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Such was the cause of the accident; "And" said Yusef, alluding perhaps remotely to a certain feat of horsemanship, and a certain bad dream concerning a lion, in the earlier part of the journey, " such is the cause of all the disasters that have ever-----"

Here the conversation was cut short by the most dreadful series of noises that I had heard during the whole journey. My first impression was that we were besieged by a party of mounted Bedouins; for the yelling of horses and the shrieking and screaming of Arabs were perfectly deafening. I looked appealingly to Yusef. He was our only hope of salvation in the terrible emergency of the moment. At first he turned pale, evidently with joy at the prospect of a fight; then hearing the noises more distinctly, he sprang to his feet, seized his sword and rushed out, foaming with rage. The tall Southerner and myself, loth to see him sacrificed in our defense, without striking a blow in our own behalf, followed him with what weapons we could snatch up in the hurry of the occasion. Upon reaching the open space in front of the hut, we beheld a sight that might well astonish and confound the most experienced of travelers.

Several of the horses belonging to Dr. Mendoza's party, and, our own three, were twisted up in a convulsed group, in all the fury of mortal combat! Syed Sulemin was standing on his hind-legs in the very midst of the contending parties; striking out frantically with his fore-legs in every direction. The iron-gray, with his head outside of the circle, was kicking behind him to the extreme extent of his power; and Saladin--alas, that I should be called upon to narrate so disgraceful a proceeding on the part of a descendant of the renowned Ashrik! Saladin, regardless of that high fraternal spirit which should prevail even among horses against a common enemy, was biting Syed Sulemin! actually tearing and torturing with his teeth the very flesh out of the rear of a fellow-warrior! Well might the noble Sulemin keenly feel this unkindest cut of all--the common enemy bearing down upon him on the right and on the left and in front; and a sharp fire in the rear from one who should have given him all needful aid and comfort.

All the Arabs belonging to both parties were running around with cudgels in their hands beating the horses, and striving by that means, and by the most terrific shouts, to separate them. Emanuel Balthos, the dragoman of the Portuguese party, was also running about; but he was judiciously beating the Arabs for suffering the horses to fight, and not the horses for fighting. Yusef upon seeing that some of his own Arabs received the chief portion of the punishment, rushed into the battle and cudgeled the Arabs of Emanuel Balthos. Doctor Mendoza, apprehensive that the fight was becoming general, danced all about, tearing his hair, and calling upon Yusef and Emanuel and the Arabs and the horses—all to stop fighting for God's sake, or it would frighten the Madam out of "his wits." He shouted in Portuguese, in French, Italian, in English; he protested that the "Madam was indispose;" that it was "necess to remain tranquil," but all in vain--there was no stopping the fight; and in the extremity of his despair, he wrung his hands, and, groaned--"Tis imposs! 'tis imposs!" The Madam shrieked wildly; in her anxiety for the safety of the Doctor: she shrieked alternately, "Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" and "Docteur! Docteur!" and strove several times to faint upon the pile of baggage, but was unable to do so on account of the interest she felt in the progress of the contest.

Eventually the whole affair was brought to a conclusion in a very singular manner. Tokina, the ass, having received a kick from one of the horses, doubtless, for casting ridicule upon the battle by incessantly braying, ran to the mules for satisfaction: they being tied fast to a shed, were rather more contracted in their sphere of action. The sudden and violent attack which he made upon this party, caused them to show their resentment with one accord; and so unanimous was the strain upon the shed, that it fell to the ground with a tremendous crash, filling the air with dust and fragments, and totally confounding every animal and every spectator on the entire premises. The strife was at an end. The horses were led away panting; the mules were unfastened from the wreck of matter; and Tokina, the peace-maker, ran off as fast as he could toward Acre, braying hysterically at the absurd issue to which he had brought the whole affair, and the contempt which he had thereby cast upon every body concerned in it except himself: I could not but feel vexed and mortified at this insulting conduct on the part of Tokina: and I really thought when I caught the last glimpse of his ears in the distance that he was as great an ass as anybody.

It is hardly necessary to add that upon a general review of the circumstances, it was ascertained that the whole difficulty originated in a matter of jealousy between Syed Sulemin and my horse Saladin.

CHAPTER LV.

RISE, DECLINE, AND FALL OF YUSEF BADRA.

NATIONS have had their good and evil fortune, and, according to all the evidences of history, the vicissitudes of prosperity and adversity which have attended them, have invariably resulted from in their own good or evil conduct. So we find it even more immediately apparent in the case of individuals. The fate of my renowned dragoman, friend, and leader, Yusef Badra, furnishes, perhaps, one of the most striking illustrations on record.

I have endeavored to show in the course of this narrative that Yusef was, by nature and education, fierce and unrelenting in his prejudices; that the two ruling prejudices of his life were, an innate hostility to the female sex, and an insatiable thirst for the blood of his fellow-creatures; that to restrain him from the indulgence of these unfortunate propensities, was my constant endeavor throughout the entire journey. From the time of leaving Jerusalem, this task, partly of friendship and partly of self-preservation, became daily more arduous; and so much trouble did it occasion me, that I often felt disposed to abandon him to his fate. All the nieces, whom he failed to meet on the road after leaving Damascus, he met in Jerusalem. Despising the whole sex, as he did, he nevertheless felt it to be his duty to call upon his relations, for the sake of his deceased uncle, whose memory he considered himself bound to honor. Now, these nieces, as well as all that he had previously met in Baalbek and elsewhere, knowing his repugnance to the sex, always maliciously contrived to make him drunk with arrack, so as to humble him in the eyes of the world. It was entirely in vain that I represented to him the weakness of suffering himself to be caught by their snares; he declared that they were as cunning as so many devils, and that a man might as well undertake to live without eating or drinking, as to avoid the snares of woman; in short, as he had often said before, that the female sex was the root of all evil.

Scarcely a town on the coast, as we drew near Beirut, was free from these temptations. At Acre, we slept in a very fine house, owned by the husband of Yusef's most beautiful niece. This one he hated more than all the rest, because she was more malicious. She made him drunk so soon, that when he brought us in our supper, it was with difficulty he could stand upright; and all the English he remembered was the burden of a song which I had taught him on the road, in the hope of overcoming his absurd prejudice against womankind. Even that he was puzzled to get exactly right. At first he had it:

And so on, till I was forced in self-defense to request silence, and sing the song myself, which so inspired Yusef that he danced all around the room; then made a fierce and sudden attack upon Francesco, the boy, whom he conquered in a moment; and finally declared he loved his glorious General, he loved the tall Southerner, and he loved Francesco, and he loved Syed Sulemin, and he loved Tokina the ass; nay, by heavens! he almost loved his niece! In this happy frame of mind, he retired to remote and unknown parts of the house and we saw nothing of him again till morning; when, as usual of late, he looked morose and gloomy, and beat all the muleteers. Truly, saith Socrates, doth intemperance rob us of our reason, that chief excellence of man, and drive us to commit the very greatest disorders.

Thus, it will be seen, commenced the decline of Yusef Badra. His rise took place on the journey to Jerusalem. At Baalbek, he rose rather high. At Damascus he rose higher. At Jerusalem he rose highest. Now commenced his decline. That very day, on the journey to Tyre, as we were going through a narrow pass, we met a caravan of camels. Yusef, incensed at the driver of the first camel for not getting out of the way, came very near slaying both the man and the camel on the spot; and would have done so, had not the man exhibited so much spirit and courage that it struck the warlike soul of Badra with admiration; he not only pardoned the offense, but cordially shook hands with the offender and passed on. I saw with pain and anxiety that Yusef was daily giving way more and more to his fierce passions; and that sooner or later, it must end in his utter ruin. On the occasion of this difficulty, therefore, I deemed it my duty to warn him of the results that would probably ensue from this unlimited sway of courage.

"What," said I, "would have been the consequence had that man been a coward? You would have slain him on the spot--run him through the body with your sword. I saw it in your eye, Yusef ; don't deny it; I saw that you meant to do it."

"Do it?" cried Yusef, smiling proudly. "Fight a single man? a miserable camel-driver? No, sir ; I merely intended to cut his head off with one blow, so that he never would find out till he sneezed that it was off at all; the camel I should simply have ripped open."

"That's precisely what I mean. The man was not a coward, and, therefore, you admired him, and felt that he was a congenial soul. You spared his life; you shook hands with him; you loved him as a brother. But had he been a coward, as I before said, what would have been the consequence? A momentary pleasure to you, would have been death to him. For I certainly could not have wrested your arm, situated as we were in a narrow pass."

"It is even as your Excellency says," replied Yusef, with deep contrition; "such, indeed, was my intention. I freely confess it. But consider, beloved General, the circumstances, I may say the character and extent of the provocation. For nearly forty days have I restrained myself to gratify your Excellency. Never before have I performed the journey through Syria without killing at least six men. This time what have I killed? My sword and fire-arms are fairly rusty for want of use. Not a single life have I taken up to the present date."

"You are certainly mistaken in that, Yusef. I saw you cut the heads off of more than a hundred chickens before we reached Jerusalem, and I have your own word for it that you killed a gazelle on the plains of Esdraelon. Besides that, you struck terror into the soul of every suspicious vagabond on the road; and I'll venture to assert that many of them have since died from fright, which, the experience of medical men sufficiently demonstrates, has frequently produced that result. Now, I hold, that you might as well kill a man as frighten him to death."

"Your Excellency is right," cried Yusef; "I did do some trifling service in that way, merely to keep my hand in. I likewise killed a couple of men in Jerusalem, as a matter of amusement. I had forgotten the circumstance. However, I shall never be able to show my face in Beirut, or sleep soundly on my arrival there, without killing at least one more; and I ask it, as a special favor, that your Excellency will not deny me this pleasure."

"Most emphatically I forbid it, Yusef. Furthermore, I take this occasion to declare that if you attack or molest in any way a single unoffending person between this and Beirut, I shall put you in a book. Not one of your daring and intrepid acts has escaped my notice. These frightful exhibitions of chivalry--these perils that you are continually rushing upon, endangering not only your own life but the lives of the whole party, shall be fully described and held up to the traveling community, to warn them of the evil effects of misguided courage. Yusef Badra shall become a name not only feared throughout Syria, but a terror throughout the whole civilized world!"

This threat, which I made with all the force and emphasis, necessary to give it full effect, did not allay in any degree the fiery zeal of my dragoman. Scarcely had I concluded, when he seized my hand in the most enthusiastic manner, and said--

"By all the compromises of Earth, O General, I would slay ten thousand men, and die ten thousand deaths to oblige your Excellency! If you deem me worthy of figuring in this important history of which you speak, I only ask that you will call me by my proper name, and give me no fictitious title."

"I'll do it, Yusef--I'll certainly do it; so I warn you; be on your guard."

With that, to my great surprise, he gave vent to his fearful war-cry, Badra! Badra for ever! and before I could utter a word, dashed off at full speed. It was in vain that I shouted to him to stop; there was no stopping him now; and as I rode along, restraining by every possible means the fiery spirit of Saladin, my mind was filled with the most gloomy forebodings I felt quite sure that something dreadful was going to happen. Oh that insatiable thirst for fame! How it

As we drew near Beirut, we stopped at every house on the road-side to inquire if Yusef had passed. The muleteers had gone on; and the party now being reduced to the tall Southerner and myself, we were compelled to depend altogether upon signs for the information we sought--pronouncing in various different ways the name of our leader and the word dragoman, and then pointing up the road. The answers were variably to the same effect, and being communicated in signs they were singularly dramatic. We judged, from the frantic manner in which these signs were made, that a furious horseman had passed, that he was armed with guns, pistols, and knives; that he flourished his sword at every body in the most terrific manner; that he smote the very air for breathing in his face, and vanished in a cloud of dust. The description was not to be mistaken. No other horseman than Yusef could be meant.

Within six miles of Beirut, we overtook a withered little man, hobbling along and talking strangely to himself: he stopped when he saw us, and running up began howling frantically at us in Arabic, and flourishing his hands in the air, and beating his sides by turns in the strangest manner, as if entirely bereft of his senses. Our first thought was that the poor fellow was drunk or crazy; our next that he was a beggar, and wanted alms. We threw him a few piastres, which set him to howling louder than ever, nor did he stop his violent gesticulations to pick them up, but ran after us as we rode on, working himself into a perfect phrensy. That he was an unfortunate lunatic we were now thoroughly convinced; he ran after us for as much as a mile, sometimes catching our horses by the tails and trying to stop them; and when he found that we still continued on, he at length flung himself prostrate on the ground, rolled over and over, and howled like a hyena. The whole thing was unaccountable and singular. Not the remotest idea of the cause occurred to either of us. Unable to do any thing for the poor fellow, we rode on as fast as we could to the nearest hut, which was in sight, and made signs to some Arabs there to go back and see what was the matter. To this the only reply we could get was a perfect torrent of Arabic, and the most threatening and indignant looks, mingled with the words--Beirut! Beirut!

I declare, for my own part, that I was completely struck aghast with mystery. Certainly it was the most singular occurrence that had happened during the entire journey. What could it mean? Was the man mad? Were all the Arabs near Beirut bereft of their senses? In truth, it seemed so; and entirely unable to come to any other understanding in regard to the matter we pushed on rapidly; and in about an hour more entered the suburbs of Beirut.

It was a delightful evening. The civilized appearance of the town, after all the ruinous places we had seen, the familiar masts of the shipping, the stir and activity every where, had an indescribably pleasant effect. It seemed quite like returning home, after a long absence. I thought, when we drew up in the neat front yard of Demetrie's Hotel, that it was the cleanest and most pleasant-looking place I had ever seen; that the Arabs lounging about were all dandies of the first rank in the world of fashion; that Demetrie was the finest-looking man, with his splendid mustache and Albanian costume, that could be found in the whole East; and, in short, that every thing and every body looked wonderfully new and civilized.

Yusef was not there. He had arrived; had embraced his friend Demetrie, who admitted that he was a little under the influence of arrack; and, as well as we could understand from the drift of Demetrie's hints, had gone off to see one of his nieces, to whom he had a letter from another niece in Jerusalem.

It was not until after breakfast the next morning that we enjoyed the pleasure of seeing Yusef. He was standing out in the front yard, dressed in the most gorgeous of Oriental costumes. His turban was of the richest texture and most flashing colors; his vest actually glittered with gilded embroidery and silver buttons; his sash was of flaming vermilion; his sword and atagar of Damascus, dazzled the eye as they swung by his side in the morning sun-beams; his legs were swathed in crimson velvet; and his feet seemed to spurn the earth in the glory of yellow embroidered slippers, the richest productions of Aleppo. I declare, without exaggeration, when I saw him thus encircled by an admiring crowd, rolling out torrents of rich Arabic, as he gracefully waved his hands in the air, showing with what ease he had encountered the Bedouins from Damascus to the Dead Sea, I thought he was the most graceful, warlike, and distinguished-looking man the world had ever produced. When I approached and said: "Good-morning, Yusef; how do you do?" it was really flattering to my feelings, the mingled dignity and deference with which he bowed to me, and the Oriental richness of the figures of speech which he made use of in returning the compliments of the morning.

"Brightest ornament of the glorious land of Liberty," said he, "radiant and most effulgent miracle of Generals, most graceful, extraordinary, and accomplished horseman; thou who fearest neither man nor beast; thou who halt traversed the dangerous and devious windings of the desert mountains of Syria, like the flaming planet that was deemed worthy to be worshiped by the great Zoroaster;--behold! I, who have never bowed to Bedouin foe; I, who would scorn to bend the knee by compulsion before the grand Sovereign of all the Turkeys; I, Yusef Badra, kiss the hem of thy garment; and greet thee with the willing devotion of a heart steeped to the core in human blood!--a heart that seldom throbs save in a crimson sea of gore!"

In this strain he talked for some time, greatly to the admiration of all the surrounding Arabs; after which, we set out, under his guidance, to make some purchases in the bazaars. As we were strolling along leisurely through the streets of Beirut, I took advantage of the occasion to ask Yusef the reason of his mysterious disappearance on the road. He changed color a little at the abruptness of the question; but quickly answered that it was merely for the purpose of killing a man, of whom he had heard strange accounts in Sidon. This man, it appeared, was of gigantic stature, seven feet high at least, and large in proportion; every body on the road was afraid of him; he had even threatened, in case he ever met Yusef Badra, to clip the ears from the head of that individual; which, taken altogether, so aroused the soul of Badra, that he had determined upon putting this braggart to death. After his (Yusef's) conversation with his beloved General, being inspired thereby, and reminded of this giant, he set out full speed for the purpose of carrying his purpose into execution. He had not gone more than a few miles when he discovered the giant, concealed behind a rock, waiting for him. Maddened at the cowardice of this trick, he put spurs to Syed Sulemin, dashed straight up to the spot with drawn sword, and challenged the miserable wretch to stand forth and defend himself. The miserable wretch was even taller than he was represented to be--eight feet high at least. But, in despite of that, finding him unwilling to close in the fight, Yusef dismounted and beat him with the flat of his sword till the poor braggart cried out that he was killed, conquered, overwhelmed, and completely satisfied. "Doubt. less he is dead by this time," added Yusef, with great coolness, "it is impossible that he could have long survived the fright and the beating together."

At this juncture, I was astonished to perceive that Yusef turned ghastly pale; his knees knocked together, and he was transfixed to the ground like one who unexpectedly discovers a spectre. Following the direction of his starting eyes, I beheld two Turkish soldiers within a few steps, walking straight up to him. "Excuse me, gentlemen," said Yusef, turning to us, with a ghastly smile, "I—I--have a l—l--little business to settle." At the same moment, the Turkish soldiers laid their hands upon his shoulders, uttered a few words in a low tone of voice, took him each by the arm, and walked off rapidly, leaving both my friend and myself perfectly amazed and confounded.

Alas! need I tell it? this was the fall of Yusef Badra! In two hours the whole town of Beirut was in commotion. It was cried aloud in Greek, in Arabic, in Italian, in French, in English--Have you heard the news? Yusef Badra's in jail! Badra's in jail! Badra! Badra! God help poor Badra! Sad is the fate of Badra! Poor Badra ! Unhappy Badra!

We returned toward Demetrie's. The pathway was lined with Arabs, friends, and fellow citizens of the fallen Badra. They cried aloud to us, as we passed, Howadji! Howadji! Badra! Badra!"

We entered the yard in front of Demetrie's. It was filled with muleteers who had served under Badra; among whom we recognized our own Mustapha. They cried out to us, O Howadji! Howadji! Badra! Badra!--Mustapha caught us frantically by the coat-tails, and wept aloud, while he pointed toward the jail, and cried, Badra! Badra!

We met Demetrie in the saloon. His fine face was clouded with trouble. "Have you heard the news?" said he, "Badra's in jail. Yusef Badra's in jail. O, Howadji! can't you get him out! He's a good fellow! He drinks; but he's a good fellow ! O Howadji! Howadji! Badra! Badra!"

We went straightway down to the office of the American consul. At the door we met Eleas, the servant of the English captain, who was weeping bitterly. "Badra's in jail," he cried, "poor Yusef Badra! They put him in jail for nothing at all--they'll punish him for nothing at all--only beating a miserable Turk on the road! O, Howadji! Howadji! save him! Save poor Yusef, your friend and dragoman!"

It was even as Eleas told us. The withered little man, whom we had met on the road, was the victim of Yusef's misguided courage; and had laid his complaint before the Turkish authorities that morning. Yusef was accordingly seized, as already stated, and put in jail.

The American consul, in compliance with our request, sent for Yusef; who was accompanied to the office by a guard of Turkish soldiers. There was much talk on all sides; but the authorities were immovable. Nothing could be done. The case was an aggravated one, and must go before the Sultan. It was for the Grand Seignor to decide what was to be done with a man so inspired with courage that he could not pass a decrepit old Turk on the road without attempting to kill him. The consul did all in his power; we said and did all we could; the friends of Yusef wept all they could. It was to no purpose; the laws of the land must take their course. Poor Yusef! No more was he Yusef the Brave! Yusef the Destroyer of Robbers! Throughout Beirut he was now, "Poor Yusef !"--nothing but "Poor Yusef!"

We went to his prison. There he sat behind the bars, surrounded by thieves and vagrants, and stared at by the idle rabble outside, crushed down in body and soul. The big tears rolled down his cheeks. When he saw us he covered his face and groaned: "My niece did it, gentlemen; she made me drunk. All my misfortunes have come from devils in the form of angels. Take warning, O Howadji, and never put faith in woman!" We told him how sorry we were that we could do nothing for him; that he was a very pitiable object to be sure, but he could only blame himself for it; that it would be greatly to his advantage in the end, perhaps, to spend some time in prison, inasmuch as it would enable him to refrain from visiting his nieces, and save him from the mortification of being made drunk on arrack; that confinement has its pleasures as well as its pains; and should he be kept in jail six months it would doubtless be a continual source of satisfaction to him to reflect upon the blood of the six Bedouins he had slain, and anticipate the pleasure of killing six more as soon as he was set at liberty; in short, that although he would present a most pitiful and heart-rending sight behind the bars, to all his pretty nieces who might chance to pass that way, and was a fit subject of commiseration for all the muleteers whom he had beaten on the road, yet that, considering the thing in its proper light, there was every reason to congratulate himself, inasmuch as he would be comfortably provided for in the way of bread and water, and not suffered to spend his money extravagantly, for it would all be taken care of, and properly appropriated to the use of the Turkish authorities, and that of the old man whom he had beaten on the road.

Having thus afforded all the consolation in our power to the unfortunate Yusef, we bade him a kindly farewell, never more, perhaps, to see his familiar face again. The steamer for Alexandria, was already getting up steam.

We returned to Demetrie's, with a crowd of Arabs after us, who still cried out to us, as if they thought the Howadji all-powerful, "O save poor Yusef Badra! O Howadji! Howadji! take pity upon poor Yusef Badra! the friend of our heart! the joy and pride of Beirut!"

As we sat down to our last dinner at the hotel, Doctor Mendoza and the Madam entered. They had arrived the day before us. They were delighted at the happy termination of the voyage through Syria; Doctor Mendoza said that the Madam was a little indispose, in consequence of the horse-fight at Tantura, which had disordered his (the Madam's) nerves; but he would be well directly.

Doctor Mendoza had, with his customary kindness of heart, evinced the most profound concern for the fate of our dragoman from the moment he had heard of his arrest by the Turkish soldiers. He went to the Portuguese consul's that afternoon, before the steamer sailed, and stated the whole case in the hope of obtaining Yusef's release. On his return he popped his head in at the door of our room, where we sat smoking our chiboucks, and lamenting the unhappy fate of the Destroyer of Robbers. With a clouded brow and desponding voice, he told us of the interview:

"I have speak my consul for your dragoman. No-ting can be done. She are necess to remain in jail, because she can not get out. No more she shall voyage at present. 'Tis impose. It will be necess for her to remain tranquil. Very bad hotel in jail, because it are without the convenience for eat and sleep. Consequent she shall die. Dis is all. No more at present she shall get out. I am very sorry, but 'tis imposs!"