“Mr Foyster and I keep the wine-store in this boat, to have it under our
own eye. The tutor and the young gentleman are in the small boat, and
they cannot require wine.”
“If they are to study,” replied Hassan, smiling, “I doubt not that Nile
water would be better for them; but you should know better than I, who
am not a student or a drinker of wine.”
“That is the only fault you have, my lad,” said Demetri; “there is
nothing like wine to open the heart and brighten the eye. Oh! you pig,”
shouted he to another burly fellow going towards the cabin door; “are
you going to carry that _kafass_ full of fowls into the ladies’ sleeping
cabin?” So saying, he jumped upon the luckless porter, and with a few
smart blows of his courbatch sent him forward with his chicken-load.
With the assistance of Hassan, Demetri contrived to get the multifarious
boxes into something like order and arrangement by the time that a cloud
of dust and the braying of half-a-dozen donkeys announced the approach
of the Thorpe party.
Once fairly embarked, the boats, sometimes under easy sail, sometimes
tracked from the shore, wound their slow way along the waters of the
Mahmoudiah.
The voyage from Alexandria to Atfeh, the point at which the canal joins
the Nile, is of itself dull, and is so familiar, either by experience or
description, to the world in general, that it scarcely merits a separate
notice. Still, as Emily Thorpe kept a journal, as many girls are in the
habit of doing, a few pages therefrom may be transcribed, to give a
further account of the voyage in the dahabiah:—
“I am surprised to hear that the Mahmoudiah canal, although cut by the
present Viceroy at an enormous cost of money and of human life, through
a country perfectly flat, is as winding in its course as a path through
a labyrinth. On asking Demetri, our dragoman, if he could explain the
cause of this, he answered me by a story—for he has a story ready for
almost every occasion. The very same question, he says, was lately put
to Mohammed Ali by a French engineer travelling through Egypt. The Pasha
said to the engineer—
“‘Have you ever seen rivers in Europe?’
“‘Yes, sir, many.’
“‘Are they straight or crooked in their course?’
“‘They are generally crooked, sir.’
“‘Who made the rivers?’ inquired the Pasha.
“‘They were made by Allah,’ said the astonished engineer.
“‘Then, sir,’ concluded the Pasha triumphantly, ‘do you expect me to
know and to do better than Allah?’
“The poor engineer had no reply to make to this strange argument, so he
took his leave and went his way.
“I hope we shall soon see this extraordinary man, who has raised himself
from the position of a subaltern to the viceroyalty of Egypt. He is now
staying at a small country-house that he has built on the banks of the
Nile, about fifty miles above this place.
“On the first day we had mostly contrary winds, and the tracking a boat
of this size is slower than a snail’s gallop. Hassan having seen some
wild ducks flying over a marsh at no great distance, went in search of
them. In the evening he brought back five or six. But yesterday was our
first adventure.
“We were sailing up the canal, the breeze being favourable, though very
slight, when at a bend or sharp turn we came suddenly upon a large boat
like our own, coming from Atfeh to Alexandria. Whether owing to a sudden
change of course, or to some mismanagement on the part of one of the
pilots, I know not, but the two boats came together with a fearful
crash. The rigging of both was damaged, and for some minutes the vessels
were locked to each other near the prow, the men being unable to
extricate them. It seemed that the crew of the other boat was far more
numerous than ours, and amongst others I noticed a man dressed in a
military blue frock, who, Demetri told me afterwards, was a _kawàss_ of
the Viceroy.
“The noise, the yells that ensued, and the volumes of (to me
unintelligible) abuse that were interchanged, baffle all description;
but as no one seemed to think of disengaging the vessels, but all were
bent upon gesticulations which became every minute more hostile, I felt
seriously alarmed. Hassan, who had been sitting in his usual place
behind our divan, seeing my alarm, came up to me and said with a smile
(for he speaks English tolerably well)—
“‘Do not be afraid, lady; these fellahs make a great deal of noise, but
there is no danger.’
“Even as he was speaking, the man in the blue coat, who seemed to be in
a perfect fury, and to be urging his men to board our boat and beat our
crew, caught up a stone or brick, which happened to come within his
reach. Whether he aimed it at Hassan, or the _rais_, or me, I know not,
but it just grazed my head, drawing a little blood from the upper part
of my cheek.
“Hassan’s countenance changed in a moment; his eyes shone like
lightning; it was terrible to see such concentrated fury in that young
face, so gentle in its habitual expression. Calling the _rais_ to hold
up his large cloak before me to shield me from further harm, he sprang
to the lower deck, and ran forward to the prow where the boat had been
entangled. Before he reached the spot they had become disengaged, I know
not how, and ours was beginning slowly to resume its course; clearing
the intervening space at a bound, he leapt alone upon the deck of the
other boat. There he was met and attacked by a man with what they call
here a _naboot_, a thick heavy stick. Hassan wrenched it from the man’s
grasp, and whirling it round his head, and calling on the others to
stand back, he forced his way to the spot where stood the _kawàss_ who
had thrown the stone; the latter drew his sword, but Hassan’s blow fell
with such terrific force that the sword was shivered, and the man fell
senseless on the deck.
“We could see that four or five of the boat’s crew struck at Hassan and
grappled with him, endeavouring to throw him down and bind him, but he
shook them off by the exertion of his tremendous strength, and plunging
overboard into the canal swam to the opposite bank; two of the boat’s
crew jumped in and swam after him, but he reached the shore before them.
He then ran along the bank till he overtook our boat, which was now
going steadily through the water with a fair wind, and plunging into the
canal again, caught a rope thrown to him by our _rais_, and in a minute
was safely on board.”
The two dahabiahs had passed through the locks of Atfeh, and were just
about to commence their course up the broad stream of the Nile when a
_kawàss_ from the Governor of the town came to the water’s edge and
desired the _rais_ of the larger boat to stay a few minutes, as he had a
message to deliver to the English traveller.
On being presented to Mr Thorpe, at whose side stood Demetri as
interpreter, the _kawàss_ said he was instructed by the Governor to
desire that an Arab on board, charged with assaulting and beating one of
the servants of the Viceroy, might be given up to him.
Mr Thorpe, whose experience of Eastern travel was small, but who was at
the same time too humane to think of giving up Hassan to the tender
mercies of the Atfeh authorities, consulted apart with Demetri, and then
replied—
“Tell the Governor that I have a complaint to make against the captain
and crew of the boat which ran into and damaged mine; and also against
that servant of the Viceroy who, without any right or provocation, threw
a brick at my daughter, which struck her, and might have killed her. I
am now on my way to Cairo, where the rights of the case will be examined
by the English Consul and the Egyptian Government: then if any person in
this boat shall be judged to be in fault he can be punished.”
The _kawàss_, not having any reply ready to meet this reasonable
proposal, permitted the boats to proceed on their way, and retired to
deliver the message to his principal.
Unlike the Rhine, the Rhone, and other great rivers in Europe, which
are, as it were, merely beneficial accidents in the countries through
which they flow, the Nile is the creator and perpetuator, as well as the
fertiliser, of the whole soil of Egypt. Wherever its prolific waters
annually irrigate and subside, there spring up in exuberant abundance
the grains and herbs of the field, the flowers and fruits of the garden,
the almond and pomegranate, the fruitful palm, the fragrant orange and
lemon, the cotton-plant and the sugar-cane, and, more frequent than all,
the widespread shade of the sycomore.[31] In Egypt it is unnecessary to
inquire where vegetation ceases and the desert begins: from the
Cataracts to the Mediterranean the answer would be always the
same—whatever spot or line the waters of the Nile can reach there is, or
may be, cultivation; all beyond that line is desert. The feelings of the
party on attaining the fine view of this glorious river were various as
their habits and characters.
Hassan reclined near the _rais_, reading snatches of his ‘Arabian
Nights,’ and occasionally casting his eyes over the desert sandhills to
the west, endeavouring to recognise among them some spot which he had
passed in his expeditions with the Oulâd-Ali. The boats glided swiftly
forward through the turbid stream under the impulse of a fair and fresh
breeze, their crews seated lazily round the mast, passing their pipe
from mouth to mouth, when Demetri, to whom everything like silence or
quiet was naturally repugnant, came aft and asked Mr Thorpe whether he
would like to hear the crew sing an Arab boat-song.
Emily’s reply, “Oh! papa, let us hear it by all means!” anticipated and
ensured the old gentleman’s consent. Demetri acted as leader, and beat
the time with a cane in his hand, which he every now and then allowed to
descend pretty sharply on the shoulders of any luckless wight who did
not open his jaws and his throat to the utmost extent at the recurrence
of the burden or chorus which terminated every verse.
The orchestra consisted of a miserable apology for a kettle-drum (called
in Egypt a _darabooka_) played by a fellow who swayed his head and
shoulders backwards and forwards to the time of the song. The tone was
so strange and its vibrations so shrill as the fellow half shut one eye
and threw up his head sideways to strain his voice to the utmost pitch,
that Emily was fain to put up her handkerchief to her face, to hide the
laugh which she could not resist, and shield her ears from the dissonant
shrillness of the sound. When, however, he came down from these
indescribable counter-tenor heights[32] to a more natural tone, and
Emily was able to follow the cadence of the song, especially of the wild
and irregular chorus which terminated every verse, she began to find it
more tolerable, and afterwards even pleasing in its effect.
Hassan being called upon by Mr Thorpe to explain the words, felt not a
little confused; for independently of the fact that his knowledge of
English was imperfect, it is certain that these songs of the Nile
boatmen are extremely difficult to translate, sometimes from the
elliptical vagueness of their language, sometimes from its plain and
unveiled indecency; he succeeded, however, in giving the general meaning
of the song, which cast roughly into English rhyme would run as
follows:—
“O night! O night! O night! you’re better far than day;
O night! O night! O night! the Eastern sky is grey;
O night! O night! O night! a little longer stay;
To the girls of Damanhour speed on our homeward way.
_Chorus._
The girls of Damanhour, like young gazelles at play,
The girls of Damanhour, none half so fair as they.
“O night! O night! O night! my love is far away,
O night! O night! O night! her form’s a willow spray;[33]
O night! O night! O night! my heart is fallen a prey
To Damanhour eyes, like those of fawn at play.
_Chorus._
Oh the girls of Damanhour, like young gazelles at play;
The girls of Damanhour, none half so fair as they.”
“Are the ladies of Damanhour so fair as they are described?” inquired
Emily.
“I know not,” replied Hassan, smiling, “for I was never there excepting
once or twice, and then only for a day or two; but I doubt their beauty,
lady, for what are they but fellahs? Doubtless the song was written by
some Damanhour rhymer, and we have a proverb in Arabic, ‘My children are
fairer than yours,’ said the crow to the parrot.”
“Do you despise the fellahs, Hassan?” said Mr Thorpe.
“Despise them! No,” replied the youth (his countenance betraying the
pride which his tongue disavowed); “Allah made them, and they are good
to cultivate the ground—nothing more. The ox and the donkey are useful
animals, but neither is an Arab horse.”
On the following day the dahabiahs continued their course up the Nile
without accident or adventure, when, as they reached a bend in the river
called Zauràt-el-Bahr, the party assembled on their decks saw before
them at the distance of a few miles a number of tents, horsemen, and
other indications of a large encampment.
On interrogating the _rais_, Mr Thorpe learnt that from these
indications the presence of Mohammed Ali in person might certainly be
inferred, he having built near that spot a small country-house, to which
he occasionally resorted while inspecting the canals and other
improvements which he had recently ordered to be made in the province of
Menoufiah.
As the dahabiahs drew near the encampment, and Mr Thorpe was doubting
whether he could gratify the curiosity he had long felt to see the
celebrated founder of the new Egyptian dynasty, a six-oared boat, with
an officer in the stern-sheets, darted out from the bank and was
alongside in a moment. Stepping on deck with a polite salute, he said he
believed that he had the pleasure of seeing the English lord who had
lately come up from Alexandria on his way to Cairo.[34]
Demetri having been desired to reply in the affirmative, the officer
continued—
“The Viceroy has heard of your coming, and orders me to say that he
hopes you will not find it inconvenient to remain here to-night, and to
breakfast with his Highness to-morrow morning, with all your party.”
Mr Thorpe having desired Demetri to accept the invitation on his part
with due acknowledgments of the Viceroy’s courtesy, the Greek made a
most flowery speech upon the occasion, the half of which, at least, was
of his own invention. It conveyed, however, the required acceptance; and
the officer having withdrawn, the boats were made fast to the shore, a
few hundred yards from the garden attached to the Viceroy’s villa.
Guards were sent down to protect them from thieves during the night, and
half-a-dozen sheep, fifty fowls, and several baskets of fruit were sent
on board by his Highness’s order.
Mr Thorpe and all his party were pleasantly surprised at the agreeable
opportunity thus offered by the Viceroy’s unexpected courtesy of seeing
one whom they justly considered as a celebrity of his time. Mr Thorpe,
though believing that the Viceroy’s invitation had been specially
intended to include the ladies, sent Demetri on shore, desiring him to
ascertain the point from one of the chamberlains. Demetri returned with
a message that, as Mr Thorpe was accompanied by his wife and daughter,
the Viceroy hoped to be honoured by their presence at breakfast.
On the following morning, at the appointed hour, an officer and several
servants of the Viceroy’s household came down to the boats to conduct
the party to his Highness’s presence, Demetri accompanying them in his
capacity of dragoman. Mrs Thorpe and Emily had not omitted to follow the
advice given them by the British Consul in Alexandria, and on landing
from their boat they each wore a thick green veil over their face. The
precaution was not unnecessary, for they had to pass through a great
crowd of soldiers, Mamelukes, and attendants, all of whom stared with
eager curiosity at the Frank ladies, whose dress and appearance
presented a novelty to Egyptian eyes.
On reaching the villa, after passing through an antechamber, at the door
of which were two sentries with musket and bayonet, they came to a silk
curtain fringed with gold. The conductor raised it, and they found
themselves in the presence of Mohammed Ali.
At the period of our tale Mohammed Ali was at the high tide of his
personal and political career. Though upwards of fifty-five years—the
latter half of them spent in constant warfare or intrigue—had passed
over his head, they had not impaired either the energy of his mind or
the activity of his frame.
All opposition to his government had been subdued: the scattered
remnants of the Mameluke beys whom he had overthrown were fugitives in
remote parts of the Soudan. The Divan at Constantinople had found itself
compelled to treat him rather like an independent ally than a powerful
vassal. Nubia, and the countries fertilised by the White and the Blue
Nile, had submitted to his arms. He had restored the holy cities, Mecca
and Medina, to the dominion of the Sultan, and had brought under
subjection the warlike and independent tribes of Arabia—the sands of
whose desert fastnesses had never before been trodden by the foot of a
foreign invader. Even the dreaded Wahabees, the terror of whose fanatic
arms extended across the Arabian peninsula from the Red Sea to the
Persian Gulf, had been unable to oppose any effectual resistance to his
well-disciplined troops. Their great chief, Souhoud, had fallen.
Deraiah, his capital, in the wild recesses of the Nejd, had been taken
and plundered, and his son and successor, Abdallah, with all his family,
had graced as captives the conqueror’s triumph in Cairo.
After all these successes in foreign and domestic warfare, he turned his
attention to the improvement and development of his acquired dominions;
and in these pursuits evinced the same energy, if not always the same
sagacity, that had marked his military career. His first object was to
free the valley of the Nile from the depredations of the Bedouins on the
bordering deserts; and having learnt from experience the difficulty, not
to say the impossibility, of chastising the incursions of their flying
squadrons with his regular troops, he adopted the plan of weakening them
by division among themselves. With this view he cultivated the
friendship of the chiefs of several of the more powerful tribes, whom he
gained over to his interest by timely donations of money, dresses of
honour, and land for the pasturage of their flocks; in return for which
favours they were ready at his call to pour forth their numerous
horsemen in pursuit of any predatory bands of other Bedouin tribes who
ventured to make hostile incursions into his territory. By this prudent
adoption of the well-known principle of “divide et impera,” he had
succeeded in so far weakening their general power that the cultivated
provinces in Egypt already enjoyed a state of comparative tranquillity.
This object attained, he turned the energies of his active mind to the
increase of his revenue; and not satisfied with those resources of
agriculture which nature has indicated to be the chief if not the only
wealth of Egypt, he already thought of rivalling at Boulak the silks of
Lyons, the looms of Manchester, and the foundries of Birmingham. It was
while his head was full of these projects, in the prosecution of which
machinery of every kind was daily pouring into the country, that he
received the visit of Mr Thorpe and his party.
At the time of their entrance he was seated on a divan in the corner of
the room farthest from the door, and beside him stood a middle-aged man
whom they conjectured to be his dragoman. He rose from his seat and
received them with the polite urbanity for which he was distinguished,
and motioned to the ladies to take their seats on the divan. Chairs
having been prepared, the one nearest to his person was appropriated to
Mr Thorpe. While the first compliments were being exchanged, and the
coffee was handed round in small cups of enamel studded with diamonds,
they had full leisure to examine the features and appearance of the
conqueror and regenerator of the land of the Pharaohs.
Although below the average height, his active and firmly knit form was
well calculated for the endurance of the fatigues and exertions which
his restless mind imposed upon it. On his head he wore a fez or cap,
around which was wound a fine Cashmere shawl in the shape of a turban;
for he had not yet adopted the tarboosh, which forms at present the
unsightly head-dress of Turks and Egyptians. His forehead was high,
bold, and square in its outline, subtended by shaggy eyebrows, from
beneath which peered out a pair of eyes, not large, but deep-set,
bright, and singularly expressive; when in anger, they shot forth fiery
glances which few could withstand, and when he was in mirthful mood,
they twinkled like stars. His nose was straight, with nostrils rather
wide; his mouth well-shaped, though somewhat broad, while beneath it a
massive chin, covered by a beard slightly grizzled by age, completed a
countenance on which the character of a firm, determined will was
indelibly stamped. He was dressed in a pelisse lined with fur, in the
front of which protruded from his Cashmere belt the diamond-studded hilt
of a dagger. Large loose trousers, and a pair of red slippers, according
to the fashion of the day, completed his costume, whilst on the little
finger of a hand small and delicate as that of a woman shone a diamond
of inestimable value.
After the interchange of the usual complimentary speeches and
inquiries—such as, “Whether Mr Thorpe liked what he had seen of Egypt”;
“Whether they proposed ascending the Nile as far as the First Cataract,”
&c.—which the Viceroy’s interpreter translated into French, breakfast
was announced. On his Highness leading the way into the adjoining
apartment, they were surprised at seeing a table laid out in the
European fashion, with the unexpected luxuries, not only of knives and
forks, but likewise of chairs and snow-white napkins. The dragoman stood
behind his master’s chair, and Emily was rather confused at finding that
the chief part of the conversation fell to her share—on account of her
speaking French much more fluently than her parents. The Pasha was much
pleased at this, for he was devoted to the fair sex.
With the exception of a pilau, and one or two Turkish dishes of pastry
and sweetmeats, there was nothing to distinguish the breakfast from one
served in Paris. As soon as it was concluded, and the fingers of the
guests had been duly purified by rose-water, poured from a silver-gilt
vase, they returned to the reception-room and resumed their former
places. Scarcely were they seated than there entered a row of
well-dressed young Mamelukes, each bearing before him a long pipe, with
a mouthpiece of amber, ornamented with diamonds, which they presented to
all the guests, as well as to the Pasha. Of course neither of the ladies
had ever held a pipe between their lips, and Mr Thorpe was as guiltless
of tobacco as they were. The Pasha smiled, and told them, through his
interpreter, that it was intended as a compliment, but the acceptance of
it was optional.
Mrs Thorpe absolutely declined; but Emily took the pipe, and putting the
pretty amber between her pretty lips, and making believe to smoke,
pouted so prettily that the Viceroy heartily wished she were a
Circassian that he might buy her on the spot. Mr Thorpe, wishing to be
particularly civil, took two or three _bonâ-fide_ puffs at the pipe, the
result of which was that he was nearly choked, and his eyes filled with
tears.
The attendants having retired, the conversation on general topics was
resumed; and the Viceroy explained to Mr Thorpe some of the projects
then floating in his active brain for introducing various branches of
manufacturing industry into Egypt. In reply Mr Thorpe, who, although by
no means a political economist, was a man of plain good sense, pointed
out to his Highness the difficulties that he would obviously have to
encounter from the want of hands (the agricultural population of Egypt
not being sufficient to cultivate the arable soil), and also from the
absence of the two most important elements of manufacturing
industry—iron and coal.
“Ah!” said the Pasha, laughing; “I know all that; I shall have
difficulties; what can be done without difficulty? All my life I have
been contending against them; I have always overcome them, and,
Inshallah, I will do so still! Did you see,” he added, with increased
animation, “a canal that joins the Nile a few miles northward of this
spot?” Mr Thorpe had noticed it, but had not thought of inquiring
whither it led. “Well, then,” continued the Pasha, “that canal leads to
a large village in the middle of the Delta, from which and from the
neighbouring provinces it brings the produce down to the Nile. How do
you think I made that canal? You shall hear. Two years ago I stopped
here on my way to Cairo from Alexandria, and having determined to make a
canal from the Nile to that village, I sent for the chief engineer of
the province, and having given him the length, breadth, and depth of the
canal required, I asked him in what space of time he would undertake to
make it. He took out his pen and his paper, and having made his
calculations, he said that if I gave him an order on the Governor of the
province for the labour he required, he would undertake to finish it in
a year. My reply was a signal to my servants to throw him down and give
him two hundred blows of the stick on his feet. This ceremony being
concluded, I said to him, ‘Here is the order for the number of labourers
you may require; I am going to Upper Egypt, and shall come back in four
months; if the canal is not completed by the day of my return, you shall
have three hundred more.’”
In relating this story the Pasha’s eyes sparkled, and he almost jumped
from his sitting posture with excitement, as he added, rubbing his
hands, “By Allah! the canal was completed when I returned.”[35]
The Viceroy having enjoyed for a few moments the recollection of his
successful engineering, turned to Mr Thorpe and said, with a graver air—
“I am sorry to have to speak on a disagreeable subject, but a letter has
been brought to me by a horseman from the Governor of Atfeh, in which it
is stated that a portion of the crew of your boat attacked the crew of a
Government boat on the canal, and that they were set on and led by a
young Arab of gigantic size, who nearly killed one of my _kawàsses_.”
Here Demetri, whose office had hitherto been a sinecure, the translation
having all passed through the Viceroy’s interpreter, thinking it a good
opportunity for displaying his descriptive powers, came forward, and
addressing the Viceroy, said—
“May it please your Highness, my friend Hassan——”
“Silence, babbler!” said the Pasha, in an angry voice; “you may speak
when you are spoken to.” So saying, he darted upon the unfortunate Greek
a fiery glance that almost made his heart jump into his mouth.
“Excuse me,” said the Pasha to Mr Thorpe, recovering himself
immediately, as he observed Demetri steal noiselessly out of the room;
“these servants, especially Smyrniotes, always tell lies, and I desired
to hear the truth of this story from yourself.”
“I was in the cabin,” replied Mr Thorpe; “but my daughter was on deck
the whole time, and saw all that passed; she can give your Highness a
correct report.”
“If the young lady will so far favour me, I shall be obliged,” said the
Viceroy.
Emily then related what had passed with the utmost accuracy. She noticed
that at the pauses of her narrative the interpreter made sundry marks on
a letter which he held in his hand, and also that alternate smiles and
frowns followed each other on the expressive countenance of Mohammed
Ali. When she had ceased speaking he thanked her, and after conversing a
moment with his interpreter, proceeded to ask her a few questions
connected with the letter which he held in his hand.
“Do you know whether it was by accident or design that the two boats ran
against each other, and if accident, whose fault was it?”
“I think it was certainly accident, as there had been no quarrel or
cause of quarrel before; whose fault it was I am not able to judge.”
“Are you sure that your crew did not attack the crew of the other boat
first, with sticks or other weapons?”
“I am sure that nothing but words had passed on either side until the
_kawàss_ threw the stone or brick.”
“Did you see him throw it?” said the Pasha, knitting his brows.
“I saw him certainly, and he very nearly hurt me seriously, as your
Highness may see.” While thus speaking, Emily turned her cheek aside,
and lifting up one of the brown curls, she showed the hurt.
“Kàhpe-oghlou pezevènk!” said the Pasha, in an angry tone, looking
towards his interpreter. (The words are untranslatable to ears polite,
although they may fall from a Turk fifty times in a day. They may be
rendered in this case, “The infernal scoundrel!”) “One more question,”
he added, “I would beg to ask the young lady. You say that the youth you
call Hassan jumped alone on the deck of the other boat; how many men
might there be on the deck at the time?”
“I did not count them; there might be eight or ten; some were pulling at
a rope on shore.”
“And how is it they did not drive him back, and prevent him from
striking the _kawàss_?”
“I cannot tell; I saw them strike at him on all sides, but it seems they
had not power to stop him, for he reached the _kawàss_, broke his sword,
and beat him down before jumping into the canal.”
“Ajàib!—wonderful!” said the Viceroy, turning to his dragoman. “What a
tale is this; and if it be true, what dirt have these lying dogs been
eating?” As he spoke, he pointed again to the letter he held in his
hand.
“The Viceroy is astonished at your tale,” said the interpreter,
addressing Emily; “it differs so entirely from the report sent to him by
the _kawàss_.”
“I grant that it seems improbable,” said Emily, slightly colouring; “but
as I own that I was very much frightened, if his Highness thinks that I
have stated anything incorrectly, it is easy to know the truth. The
_rais_ of our boat was close beside me all the time, and saw what
passed; let the Pasha send for him and make him relate what he saw.”
When this was translated to the Viceroy, his eyes sparkled again, and he
said, turning to Mr Thorpe, “The young lady is fit to be a cadi; by
Allah! with your leave, it shall be as she says.”
“By all means,” replied Mr Thorpe; “let the _rais_ be brought before his
Highness immediately.”
Demetri, having been sent down to the boat, returned in a few minutes
with the _rais_, whose relation of the circumstances differed in no
essential particular from that made by Emily.
“Mashallah!” said the Viceroy, “it is wonderful; with Mr Thorpe’s
permission I should like to see and question this youth.”
Mr Thorpe having signified his acquiescence, Demetri was again sent to
the boat, and soon returned, accompanied by Hassan.
During the brief absence of Demetri in search of Hassan, the Viceroy had
made further inquiries concerning the latter, in reply to which Mr
Thorpe informed him that the young man had been in the employment of
Hadji Ismael, and was now on his way to Cairo with letters for some
pasha whose name Mr Thorpe did not remember.
“What, Hadji Ismael, our good Arab merchant?” said the Viceroy.
“The same,” replied Mr Thorpe.
Here the Viceroy spoke apart to the interpreter, by whose order an
attendant brought a small box, containing letters, which he placed on
the divan at his Highness’s side. The interpreter, by the Viceroy’s
desire, ran his eye over two or three letters from Alexandria, till he
found the one of which he was in search. He read a passage from it, at
which Mohammed Ali laughed and chuckled immoderately, repeating over and
over again, “Aferin! aferin!” (bravo! bravo!) He then turned to Mr
Thorpe, saying—
“I wonder whether this can be the same youth as the one mentioned in
this letter, who threw the famous Moghrebi wrestler, Ebn-el-Ghaizi? It
is here written that he was in the employment of Hadji Ismael.”
“There can be little doubt it is the same youth,” replied Mr Thorpe. “I
have heard the whole story from our English servant. Indeed, it was in
protecting him that Hassan got into a quarrel with the wrestler.”
“Mashallah!” said the Viceroy, “the youth deserves a reward, for that
vagabond Moghrebi had beaten all the Egyptian wrestlers, and laughed at
our beards.”
At this moment Hassan reached the door of the apartment, and the Viceroy
having given orders that he should be admitted, he came forward, and
having made the usual obeisance and touched his forehead with the skirt
of the Viceroy’s pelisse, retired a few steps, and drawing himself up to
his full height, awaited his prince’s commands in silence.
Mohammed Ali had been accustomed from his youth to study the characters
of men from their countenance and bearing, and he now fixed upon Hassan
an eye whose piercing gaze few cared to encounter; but Hassan met it
with a calm and untroubled look. “Mashallah! a noble-looking youth,”
muttered he to himself, after scanning the athletic yet graceful
proportions of the figure before him. He then turned to his dragoman,
saying—
“That youth is surely not an Arab. Of what race think you he may be?”