George Walker at Suez

by Anthony Trollope

Of all the spots on the world's surface that I, George Walker, ofFriday Street, London, have ever visited, Suez in Egypt, at the headof the Red Sea, is by far the vilest, the most unpleasant, and theleast interesting. There are no women there, no water, and novegetation. It is surrounded, and indeed often filled, by a worldof sand. A scorching sun is always overhead; and one is domiciledin a huge cavernous hotel, which seems to have been made purposelydestitute of all the comforts of civilised life. Nevertheless, inlooking back upon the week of my life which I spent there I alwaysenjoy a certain sort of triumph;--or rather, upon one day of thatweek, which lends a sort of halo not only to my sojourn at Suez, butto the whole period of my residence in Egypt.I am free to confess that I am not a great man, and that, at anyrate in the earlier part of my career, I had a hankering after thehomage which is paid to greatness. I would fain have been a popularorator, feeding myself on the incense tendered to me by thousands;or failing that, a man born to power, whom those around him werecompelled to respect, and perhaps to fear. I am not ashamed toacknowledge this, and I believe that most of my neighbours in FridayStreet would own as much were they as candid and open-hearted asmyself.It is now some time since I was recommended to pass the first fourmonths of the year in Cairo because I had a sore-throat. The doctormay have been right, but I shall never divest myself of the ideathat my partners wished to be rid of me while they made certainchanges in the management of the firm. They would not otherwisehave shown such interest every time I blew my nose or relieved myhuskiness by a slight cough;--they would not have been so intimatewith that surgeon from St. Bartholomew's who dined with them twiceat the Albion; nor would they have gone to work directly that myback was turned, and have done those very things which they couldnot have done had I remained at home. Be that as it may, I wasfrightened and went to Cairo, and while there I made a trip to Suezfor a week.I was not happy at Cairo, for I knew nobody there, and the people atthe hotel were, as I thought, uncivil. It seemed to me as though Iwere allowed to go in and out merely by sufferance; and yet I paidmy bill regularly every week. The house was full of company, butthe company was made up of parties of twos and threes, and they allseemed to have their own friends. I did make attempts to overcomethat terrible British exclusiveness, that noli me tangere with whichan Englishman arms himself; and in which he thinks it necessary toenvelop his wife; but it was in vain, and I found myself sittingdown to breakfast and dinner, day after day, as much alone as Ishould do if I called for a chop at a separate table in theCathedral Coffee-house. And yet at breakfast and dinner I made oneof an assemblage of thirty or forty people. That I thought dull.But as I stood one morning on the steps before the hotel, bethinkingmyself that my throat was as well as ever I remembered it to be, Iwas suddenly slapped on the back. Never in my life did I feel amore pleasant sensation, or turn round with more unaffected delightto return a friend's greeting. It was as though a cup of water hadbeen handed to me in the desert. I knew that a cargo of passengersfor Australia had reached Cairo that morning, and were to be passedon to Suez as soon as the railway would take them, and did nottherefore expect that the greeting had come from any sojourner inEgypt. I should perhaps have explained that the even tenor of ourlife at the hotel was disturbed some four times a month by a flightthrough Cairo of a flock of travellers, who like locusts eat up allthat there was eatable at the Inn for the day. They sat down at thesame tables with us, never mixing with us, having their separateinterests and hopes, and being often, as I thought, somewhat loudand almost selfish in the expression of them. These flocksconsisted of passengers passing and repassing by the overland routeto and from India and Australia; and had I nothing else to tell, Ishould delight to describe all that I watched of their habits andmanners--the outward bound being so different in their traits fromtheir brethren on their return. But I have to tell of my owntriumph at Suez, and must therefore hasten on to say that on turninground quickly with my outstretched hand, I found it clasped by JohnRobinson."Well, Robinson, is this you?" "Holloa, Walker, what are you doinghere?" That of course was the style of greeting. Elsewhere Ishould not have cared much to meet John Robinson, for he was a manwho had never done well in the world. He had been in business andconnected with a fairly good house in Sise Lane, but he had marriedearly, and things had not exactly gone well with him. I don't thinkthe house broke, but he did; and so he was driven to take himselfand five children off to Australia. Elsewhere I should not havecared to come across him, but I was positively glad to be slapped onthe back by anybody on that landing-place in front of Shepheard'sHotel at Cairo.I soon learned that Robinson with his wife and children, and indeedwith all the rest of the Australian cargo, were to be passed on toSuez that afternoon, and after a while I agreed to accompany theirparty. I had made up my mind, on coming out from England, that Iwould see all the wonders of Egypt, and hitherto I had seen nothing.I did ride on one day some fifteen miles on a donkey to see thepetrified forest; but the guide, who called himself a dragoman, tookme wrong or cheated me in some way. We rode half the day over astony, sandy plain, seeing nothing, with a terrible wind that filledmy mouth with grit, and at last the dragoman got off. "Dere," saidhe, picking up a small bit of stone, "Dis is de forest made ofstone. Carry that home." Then we turned round and rode back toCairo. My chief observation as to the country was this--thatwhichever way we went, the wind blew into our teeth. The day's workcost me five-and-twenty shillings, and since that I had not as yetmade any other expedition. I was therefore glad of an opportunityof going to Suez, and of making the journey in company with anacquaintance.At that time the railway was open, as far as I remember, nearly halfthe way from Cairo to Suez. It did not run four or five times aday, as railways do in other countries, but four or five times amonth. In fact, it only carried passengers on the arrival of theseflocks passing between England and her Eastern possessions. Therewere trains passing backwards and forwards constantly, as Iperceived in walking to and from the station; but, as I learned,they carried nothing but the labourers working on the line, and thewater sent into the Desert for their use. It struck me forcibly atthe time that I should not have liked to have money in thatinvestment.Well; I went with Robinson to Suez. The journey, like everythingelse in Egypt, was sandy, hot, and unpleasant. The railwaycarriages were pretty fair, and we had room enough; but even in themthe dust was a great nuisance. We travelled about ten miles anhour, and stopped about an hour at every ten miles. This wastedious, but we had cigars with us and a trifle of brandy and water;and in this manner the railway journey wore itself away. In themiddle of the night, however, we were moved from the railwaycarriages into omnibuses, as they were called, and then I was notcomfortable. These omnibuses were wooden boxes, placed each upon apair of wheels, and supposed to be capable of carrying sixpassengers. I was thrust into one with Robinson, his wife and fivechildren, and immediately began to repent of my good-nature inaccompanying them. To each vehicle were attached four horses ormules, and I must acknowledge that as on the railway they went asslow as possible, so now in these conveyances, dragged through thesand, they went as fast as the beasts could be made to gallop. Iremember the Fox Tally-ho coach on the Birmingham road when Boycedrove it, but as regards pace the Fox Tally-ho was nothing to thesemachines in Egypt. On the first going off I was jolted right on toMrs. R. and her infant; and for a long time that lady thought thatthe child had been squeezed out of its proper shape; but at last wearrived at Suez, and the baby seemed to me to be all right when itwas handed down into the boat at Suez.The Robinsons were allowed time to breakfast at that cavernoushotel--which looked to me like a scheme to save the expense of thepassengers' meal on board the ship--and then they were off. I shookhands with him heartily as I parted with him at the quay, and wishedhim well through all his troubles. A man who takes a wife and fiveyoung children out into a colony, and that with his pockets butindifferently lined, certainly has his troubles before him. So hehas at home, no doubt; but, judging for myself, I should alwaysprefer sticking to the old ship as long as there is a bag ofbiscuits in the locker. Poor Robinson! I have never heard a wordof him or his since that day, and sincerely trust that the baby wasnone the worse for the little accident in the box.And now I had the prospect of a week before me at Suez, and theRobinsons had not been gone half an hour before I began to feel thatI should have been better off even at Cairo. I secured a bedroom atthe hotel--I might have secured sixty bedrooms had I wanted them--and then went out and stood at the front door, or gate. It is alarge house, built round a quadrangle, looking with one fronttowards the head of the Red Sea, and with the other into and on asandy, dead-looking, open square. There I stood for ten minutes,and finding that it was too hot to go forth, returned to the longcavernous room in which we had breakfasted. In that long cavernousroom I was destined to eat all my meals for the next six days. Nowat Cairo I could, at any rate, see my fellow-creatures at theirfood. So I lit a cigar, and began to wonder whether I could survivethe week. It was now clear to me that I had done a very rash thingin coming to Suez with the Robinsons.Somebody about the place had asked me my name, and I had told itplainly--George Walker. I never was ashamed of my name yet, andnever had cause to be. I believe at this day it will go as far inFriday Street as any other. A man may be popular, or he may not.That depends mostly on circumstances which are in themselvestrifling. But the value of his name depends on the way in which heis known at his bank. I have never dealt in tea spoons or gravyspoons, but my name will go as far as another name. "GeorgeWalker," I answered, therefore, in a tone of some little authority,to the man who asked me, and who sat inside the gate of the hotel inan old dressing-gown and slippers.That was a melancholy day with me, and twenty times before dinnerdid I wish myself back at Cairo. I had been travelling all night,and therefore hoped that I might get through some little time insleeping, but the mosquitoes attacked me the moment I laid myselfdown. In other places mosquitoes torment you only at night, but atSuez they buzz around you, without ceasing, at all hours. Ascorching sun was blazing overhead, and absolutely forbade me toleave the house. I stood for a while in the verandah, looking downat the few small vessels which were moored to the quay, but therewas no life in them; not a sail was set, not a boatman or a sailorwas to be seen, and the very water looked as though it were hot. Icould fancy the glare of the sun was cracking the paint on thegunwales of the boats. I was the only visitor in the house, andduring all the long hours of the morning it seemed as though theservants had deserted it.I dined at four; not that I chose that hour, but because no choicewas given to me. At the hotels in Egypt one has to dine at an hourfixed by the landlord, and no entreaties will suffice to obtain ameal at any other. So at four I dined, and after dinner was againreduced to despair.I was sitting in the cavernous chamber almost mad at the prospect ofthe week before me, when I heard a noise as of various feet in thepassage leading from the quadrangle. Was it possible that otherhuman beings were coming into the hotel--Christian human beings atwhom I could look, whose voices I could hear, whose words I couldunderstand, and with whom I might possibly associate? I did notmove, however, for I was still hot, and I knew that my chances mightbe better if I did not show myself over eager for companionship atthe first moment. The door, however, was soon opened, and I sawthat at least in one respect I was destined to be disappointed. Thestrangers who were entering the room were not Christians--if I mightjudge by the nature of the garments in which they were clothed.The door had been opened by the man in an old dressing-gown andslippers, whom I had seen sitting inside the gate. He was the Arabporter of the hotel, and as he marshalled the new visitors into theroom, I heard him pronounce some sound similar to my own name, andperceived that he pointed me out to the most prominent person ofthose who then entered the apartment. This was a stout, portly man,dressed from head to foot in Eastern costume of the brightestcolours. He wore, not only the red fez cap which everybody wears--even I had accustomed myself to a fez cap--but a turban round it, ofwhich the voluminous folds were snowy white. His face was fat, butnot the less grave, and the lower part of it was enveloped in amagnificent beard, which projected round it on all sides, andtouched his breast as he walked. It was a grand grizzled beard, andI acknowledged at a moment that it added a singular dignity to theappearance of the stranger. His flowing robe was of bright colours,and the under garment which fitted close round his breast, and thendescended, becoming beneath his sash a pair of the loosestpantaloons--I might, perhaps, better describe them as bags--was arich tawny silk. These loose pantaloons were tied close round hislegs, above the ankle, and over a pair of scrupulously whitestockings, and on his feet he wore a pair of yellow slippers. Itwas manifest to me at a glance that the Arab gentleman was got up inhis best raiment, and that no expense had been spared on his suit.And here I cannot but make a remark on the personal bearing of theseArabs. Whether they be Arabs or Turks, or Copts, it is always thesame. They are a mean, false, cowardly race, I believe. They willbear blows, and respect the man who gives them. Fear goes furtherwith them than love, and between man and man they understand nothingof forbearance. He who does not exact from them all that he canexact is simply a fool in their estimation, to the extent of thatwhich he loses. In all this, they are immeasurably inferior to uswho have had Christian teaching. But in one thing they beat us.They always know how to maintain their personal dignity.Look at my friend and partner Judkins, as he stands with his handsin his trousers pockets at the door of our house in Friday Street.What can be meaner than his appearance? He is a stumpy, short,podgy man; but then so also was my Arab friend at Suez. Judkins isalways dressed from head to foot in a decent black cloth suit; hiscoat is ever a dress coat, and is neither old nor shabby. On hishead he carries a shining new silk hat, such as fashion in ourmetropolis demands. Judkins is rather a dandy than otherwise,piquing himself somewhat on his apparel. And yet how mean is hisappearance, as compared with the appearance of that Arab;--how meanalso is his gait, how ignoble his step! Judkins could buy that Arabout four times over, and hardly feel the loss; and yet were they toenter a room together, Judkins would know and acknowledge by hislook that he was the inferior personage. Not the less, should apersonal quarrel arise between them, would Judkins punch the Arab'shead; ay, and reduce him to utter ignominy at his feet.Judkins would break his heart in despair rather than not return ablow; whereas the Arab would put up with any indignity of that sort.Nevertheless Judkins is altogether deficient in personal dignity. Ioften thought, as the hours hung in Egypt, whether it might not bepracticable to introduce an oriental costume in Friday Street.At this moment, as the Arab gentleman entered the cavernous coffee-room, I felt that I was greatly the inferior personage. He wasfollowed by four or five others, dressed somewhat as himself; thoughby no means in such magnificent colours, and by one gentleman in acoat and trousers. The gentleman in the coat and trousers camelast, and I could see that he was one of the least of the number.As for myself, I felt almost overawed by the dignity of the stoutparty in the turban, and seeing that he came directly across theroom to the place where I was seated, I got upon my legs and madehim some sign of Christian obeisance.I am a little man, and not podgy, as is Judkins, and I flattermyself that I showed more deportment, at any rate, than he wouldhave exhibited.I made, as I have said, some Christian obeisance. I bobbed my head,that is, rubbing my hands together the while, and expressed anopinion that it was a fine day. But if I was civil, as I hope Iwas, the Arab was much more so. He advanced till he was about sixpaces from me, then placed his right hand open upon his silkenbreast,- and inclining forward with his whole body, made to me a bowwhich Judkins never could accomplish. The turban and the flowingrobe might be possible in Friday Street, but of what avail would bethe outer garments and mere symbols, if the inner sentiment ofpersonal dignity were wanting? I have often since tried it whenalone, but I could never accomplish anything like that bow. TheArab with the flowing robe bowed, and the other Arabs all bowedalso; and after that the Christian gentleman with the coat andtrousers made a leg. I made a leg also, rubbing my hands again, andadded to my former remarks that it was rather hot."Dat berry true," said the porter in the dirty dressing-gown, whostood by. I could see at a glance that the manner of that portertowards me was greatly altered, and I began to feel comforted in mywretchedness. Perhaps a Christian from Friday Street, with plentyof money in his pockets, would stand in higher esteem at Suez thanat Cairo. If so, that alone would go far to atone for the apparentwretchedness of the place. At Cairo I had not received thatattention which had certainly been due to me as the second partnerin the flourishing Manchester house of Grimes, Walker, and Judkins.But now, as my friend with the beard again bowed to me, I felt thatthis deficiency was to be made up. It was clear, however, that thisnew acquaintance, though I liked the manner of it, would be attendedwith considerable inconvenience, for the Arab gentleman commenced anaddress to me in French. It has always been to me a source ofsorrow that my parents did not teach me the French language, andthis deficiency on my part has given rise to an incredible amount ofsupercilious overbearing pretension on the part of Judkins--whoafter all can hardly do more than translate a correspondent'sletter. I do not believe that he could have understood that Arab'soration, but at any rate I did not. He went on to the end, however,speaking for some three or four minutes, and then again he bowed.If I could only have learned that bow, I might still have beengreater than Judkins with all his French."I am very sorry," said I, "but I don't exactly follow the Frenchlanguage when it is spoken.""Ah! no French!" said the Arab in very broken English, "dat is onesorrow." How is it that these fellows learn all languages under thesun? I afterwards found that this man could talk Italian, andTurkish, and Armenian fluently, and say a few words in German, as hecould also in English. I could not ask for my dinner in any otherlanguage than English, if it were to save me from starvation. Thenhe called to the Christian gentleman in the pantaloons, and, as faras I could understand, made over to him the duty of interpretingbetween us. There seemed, however, to be one difficulty in the wayof this being carried on with efficiency. The Christian gentlemancould not speak English himself. He knew of it perhaps somethingmore than did the Arab, but by no means enough to enable us to havea fluent conversation.And had the interpreter--who turned out to be an Italian fromTrieste, attached to the Austrian Consulate at Alexandria--had theinterpreter spoken English with the greatest ease, I should have hadconsiderable difficulty in understanding and digesting in all itsbearings, the proposition made to me. But before I proceed to theproposition, I must describe a ceremony which took place previous toits discussion. I had hardly observed, when first the processionentered the room, that one of my friend's followers--my friend'sname, as I learned afterwards, was Mahmoud al Ackbar, and I willtherefore call him Mahmoud--that one of Mahmoud's followers bore inhis arms a bundle of long sticks, and that another carried an ironpot and a tray. Such was the case, and these two followers cameforward to perform their services, while I, having been literallypressed down on to the sofa by Mahmoud, watched them in theirprogress. Mahmoud also sat down, and not a word was spoken whilethe ceremony went on. The man with the sticks first placed on theground two little pans--one at my feet, and then one at the feet ofhis master. After that he loosed an ornamented bag which he carriedround his neck, and producing from it tobacco, proceeded to fill twopipes. This he did with the utmost gravity, and apparently withvery peculiar care. The pipes had been already fixed at one end ofthe stick, and to the other end the man had fastened two largeyellow balls. These, as I afterwards perceived, were mouth-piecesmade of amber. Then he lit the pipes, drawing up the difficultsmoke by long painful suckings at the mouthpiece, and then, when thework had become apparently easy, he handed one pipe to me, and theother to his master. The bowls he had first placed in the littlepans on the ground.During all this time no word was spoken, and I was left altogetherin the dark as to the cause which had produced this extraordinarycourtesy. There was a stationary sofa--they called it there adivan--which was fixed into the corner of the room, and on one sideof the angle sat Mahmoud al Ackbar, with his feet tucked under him,while I sat on the other. The remainder of the party stood around,and I felt so little master of the occasion, that I did not knowwhether it would become me to bid them be seated. I was not masterof the entertainment. They were not my pipes. Nor was it mycoffee, which I saw one of the followers preparing in a distant partof the room. And, indeed, I was much confused as to the managementof the stick and amber mouth-piece with which I had been presented.With a cigar I am as much at home as any man in the City. I cannibble off the end of it, and smoke it to the last ash, when I amthree parts asleep. But I had never before been invited to regalemyself with such an instrument as this. What was I to do with thathuge yellow ball? So I watched my new friend closely.It had manifestly been a part of his urbanity not to commence till Ihad done so, but seeing my difficulty he at last raised the ball tohis mouth and sucked at it. I looked at him and envied the gravityof his countenance, and the dignity of his demeanour. I suckedalso, but I made a sputtering noise, and must confess that I did notenjoy it. The smoke curled gracefully from his mouth and nostrilsas he sat there in mute composure. I was mute as regarded speech,but I coughed as the smoke came from me in convulsive puffs. Andthen the attendant brought us coffee in little tin cups--blackcoffee, without sugar and full of grit, of which the berries hadbeen only bruised, not ground. I took the cup and swallowed themixture, for I could not refuse, but I wish that I might have askedfor some milk and sugar. Nevertheless there was something verypleasing in the whole ceremony, and at last I began to find myselfmore at home with my pipe.When Mahmoud had exhausted his tobacco, and perceived that I alsohad ceased to puff forth smoke, he spoke in Italian to theinterpreter, and the interpreter forthwith proceeded to explain tome the purport of this visit. This was done with much difficulty,for the interpreter's stock of English was very scanty--but afterawhile I understood, or thought I understood, as follows:- At someprevious period of my existence I had done some deed which had giveninfinite satisfaction to Mahmoud al Ackbar. Whether, however, I haddone it myself, or whether my father had done it, was not quiteclear to me. My father, then some time deceased, had been awharfinger at Liverpool, and it was quite possible that Mahmoudmight have found himself at that port. Mahmoud had heard of myarrival in Egypt, and had been given to understand that I was comingto Suez--to carry myself away in the ship, as the interpreterphrased it. This I could not understand, but I let it pass. Havingheard these agreeable tidings--and Mahmoud, sitting in the corner,bowed low to me as this was said--he had prepared for my acceptancea slight refection for the morrow, hoping that I would not carrymyself away in the ship till this had been eaten. On this subject Isoon made him quite at ease, and he then proceeded to explain thatas there was a point of interest at Suez, Mahmoud was anxious that Ishould partake of the refection somewhat in the guise of a picnic,at the Well of Moses, over in Asia, on the other side of the head ofthe Red Sea. Mahmoud would provide a boat to take across the partyin the morning, and camels on which we would return after sunset.Or else we would go and return on camels, or go on camels and returnin the boat. Indeed any arrangement would be made that I preferred.If I was afraid of the heat, and disliked the open boat, I could becarried round in a litter. The provisions had already been sentover to the Well of Moses in the anticipation that I would notrefuse this little request.I did not refuse it. Nothing could have been more agreeable to methan this plan of seeing something of the sights and wonders of thisland,--and of this seeing them in good company. I had not heard ofthe Well of Moses before, but now that I learned that it was inAsia,--in another quarter of the globe, to be reached by a transitof the Red Sea, to be returned from by a journey on camels' backs,--I burned with anxiety to visit its waters. What a story would thisbe for Judkins! This was, no doubt, the point at which theIsraelites had passed. Of those waters had they drunk. I almostfelt that I had already found one of Pharaoh's chariot wheels. Ireadily gave my assent, and then, with much ceremony and many lowsalaams, Mahmoud and his attendant left me. "I am very glad that Icame to Suez," said I to myself.I did not sleep much that night, for the mosquitoes of Suez are verypersevering; but I was saved from the agonising despair which theseanimals so frequently produce, by my agreeable thoughts as toMahmoud al Ackbar. I will put it to any of my readers who havetravelled, whether it is not a painful thing to find one's-selfregarded among strangers without any kindness or ceremoniouscourtesy. I had on this account been wretched at Cairo, but allthis was to be made up to me at Suez. Nothing could be morepleasant than the whole conduct of Mahmoud al Ackbar, and Idetermined to take full advantage of it, not caring overmuch whatmight be the nature of those previous favours to which he hadalluded. That was his look-out, and if he was satisfied, why shouldnot I be so also?On the following morning I was dressed at six, and, looking out ofmy bed-room, I saw the boat in which we were to be wafted into Asiabeing brought up to the quay close under my window. It had beenarranged that we should start early, so as to avoid the mid-day sun,breakfast in the boat,--Mahmoud in this way engaged to provide mewith two refections,--take our rest at noon in a pavilion which hadbeen built close upon the well of the patriarch, and then eat ourdinner, and return riding upon camels in the cool of the evening.Nothing could sound more pleasant than such a plan; and knowing as Idid that the hampers of provisions had already been sent over, I didnot doubt that the table arrangements would be excellent. Even now,standing at my window, I could see a basket laden with long-neckedbottles going into the boat, and became aware that we should notdepend altogether for our morning repast on that gritty coffee whichmy friend Mahmoud's followers prepared.I had promised to be ready at six, and having carefully completed mytoilet, and put a clean collar and comb into my pocket ready fordinner, I descended to the great gateway and walked slowly round tothe quay. As I passed out, the porter greeted me with a lowobeisance, and walking on, I felt that I stepped the ground with asort of dignity of which I had before been ignorant. It is not, asa rule, the man who gives grace and honour to the position, but theposition which confers the grace and honour upon the man. I haveoften envied the solemn gravity and grand demeanour of the LordChancellor, as I have seen him on the bench; but I almost think thateven Judkins would look grave and dignified under such a wig.Mahmoud al Ackbar had called upon me and done me honour, and I feltmyself personally capable of sustaining before the people of Suezthe honour which he had done me.As I walked forth with a proud step from beneath the portal, Iperceived, looking down from the square along the street, that therewas already some commotion in the town. I saw the flowing robes ofmany Arabs, with their backs turned towards me, and I thought that Iobserved the identical gown and turban of my friend Mahmoud on theback and head of a stout short man, who was hurrying round a cornerin the distance. I felt sure that it was Mahmoud. Some of hisservants had failed in their preparations, I said to myself, as Imade my way round to the water's edge. This was only anothertestimony how anxious he was to do me honour.I stood for a while on the edge of the quay looking into the boat,and admiring the comfortable cushions which were luxuriouslyarranged around the seats. The men who were at work did not knowme, and I was unnoticed, but I should soon take my place upon thesoftest of those cushions. I walked slowly backwards and forwardson the quay, listening to a hum of voices that came to me from adistance. There was clearly something stirring in the town, and Ifelt certain that all the movement and all those distant voices wereconnected in some way with my expedition to the Well of Moses. Atlast there came a lad upon the walk dressed in Frank costume, and Iasked him what was in the wind. He was a clerk attached to anEnglish warehouse, and he told me that there had been an arrivalfrom Cairo.He knew no more than that, but he had heard that the omnibuses hadjust come in. Could it be possible that Mahmoud al Ackbar had heardof another old acquaintance, and had gone to welcome him also?At first my ideas on the subject were altogether pleasant. I by nomeans wished to monopolise the delights of all those cushions, norwould it be to me a cause of sorrow that there should be some one toshare with me the conversational powers of that interpreter. Shouldanother guest be found, he might also be an Englishman, and I mightthus form an acquaintance which would be desirable. Thinking ofthese things, I walked the quay for some minutes in a happy state ofmind; but by degrees I became impatient, and by degrees alsodisturbed in my spirit. I observed that one of the Arab boatmenwalked round from the vessel to the front of the hotel, and that onhis return he looked at me--as I thought, not with courteous eyes.Then also I saw, or rather heard, some one in the verandah of thehotel above me, and was conscious that I was being viewed fromthence. I walked and walked, and nobody came to me, and I perceivedby my watch that it was seven o'clock. The noise, too, had comenearer and nearer, and I was now aware that wheels had been drawn upbefore the front door of the hotel, and that many voices werespeaking there. It might be that Mahmoud should wait for some otherfriend, but why did he not send some one to inform me? And then, asI made a sudden turn at the end of the quay, I caught sight of theretreating legs of the Austrian interpreter, and I became aware thathe had been sent down, and had gone away, afraid to speak to me."What can I do?" said I to myself, "I can but keep my ground." Iowned that I feared to go round to the front of the hotel. So Istill walked slowly up and down the length of the quay, and began towhistle to show that I was not uneasy. The Arab sailors looked atme uncomfortably, and from time to time some one peered at me roundthe corner. It was now fully half-past seven, and the sun wasbecoming hot in the heavens. Why did we not hasten to placeourselves beneath the awning in that boat.I had just made up my mind that I would go round to the front andpenetrate this mystery, when, on turning, I saw approaching to me aman dressed at any rate like an English gentleman. As he came nearto me, he raised his hat, and accosted me in our own language. "Mr.George Walker, I believe?" said he."Yes," said I, with some little attempt at a high demeanour, -"ofthe firm of Grimes, Walker, and Judkins, Friday Street, London.""A most respectable house, I am sure," said he. "I am afraid therehas been a little mistake here.""No mistake as to the respectability of that house," said I. I feltthat I was again alone in the world, and that it was necessary thatI should support myself. Mahmoud al Ackbar had separated himselffrom me for ever. Of that I had no longer a doubt."Oh, none at all," said he. "But about this little expedition overthe water;" and he pointed contemptuously to the boat. "There hasbeen a mistake about that, Mr. Walker; I happen to be the EnglishVice-Consul here."I took off my hat and bowed. It was the first time I had ever beenaddressed civilly by any English consular authority."And they have made me get out of bed to come down here and explainall this to you.""All what?" said I."You are a man of the world, I know, and I'll just tell it youplainly. My old friend, Mahmoud al Ackbar, has mistaken you for SirGeorge Walker, the new Lieutenant-Governor of Pegu. Sir GeorgeWalker is here now; he has come this morning; and Mahmoud is ashamedto face you after what has occurred. If you won't object towithdraw with me into the hotel, I'll explain it all."I felt as though a thunderbolt had fallen; and I must say, that evenup to this day I think that the Consul might have been a little lessabrupt. "We can get in here," said he, evidently in a hurry, andpointing to a small door which opened out from one corner of thehouse to the quay. What could I do but follow him? I did followhim, and in a few words learned the remainder of the story. When hehad once withdrawn me from the public walk he seemed but littleanxious about the rest, and soon left me again alone. The facts, asfar as I could learn them, were simply these.Sir George Walker, who was now going out to Pegu as Governor, hadbeen in India before, commanding an army there. I had never heardof him before, and had made no attempt to pass myself off as hisrelative. Nobody could have been more innocent than I was--or havereceived worse usage. I have as much right to the name as he has.Well; when he was in India before, he had taken the city of Begumafter a terrible siege--Begum, I think the Consul called it; andMahmoud had been there, having been, it seems, a great man at Begum,and Sir George had spared him and his money; and in this way thewhole thing had come to pass. There was no further explanation thanthat. The rest of it was all transparent. Mahmoud, having heard myname from the porter, had hurried down to invite me to his party.So far so good. But why had he been afraid to face me in themorning? And, seeing that the fault had all been his, why had henot asked me to join the expedition? Sir George and I may, afterall, be cousins. But, coward as he was, he had been afraid of me.When they found that I was on the quay, they had been afraid of me,not knowing how to get rid of me. I wish that I had kept the quayall day, and stared them down one by one as they entered the boat.But I was down in the mouth, and when the Consul left me, I creptwearily back to my bedroom.And the Consul did leave me almost immediately. A faint hope had,at one time, come upon me that he would have asked me to breakfast.Had he done so, I should have felt it as a full compensation for allthat I had suffered. I am not an exacting man, but I own that Ilike civility. In Friday Street I can command it, and in FridayStreet for the rest of my life will I remain. From this Consul Ireceived no civility. As soon as he had got me out of the way andspoken the few words which he had to say, he again raised his hatand left me. I also again raised mine, and then crept up to my bed-room.From my window, standing a little behind the white curtain, I couldsee the whole embarkation. There was Mahmoud al Ackbar, lookingindeed a little hot, but still going through his work with all thatexcellence of deportment which had graced him on the precedingevening. Had his foot slipped, and had he fallen backwards intothat shallow water, my spirit would, I confess, have been relieved.But, on the contrary, everything went well with him. There was thereal Sir George, my namesake and perhaps my cousin, as fresh aspaint, cool from the bath which he had been taking while I had beenwalking on that terrace. How is it that these governors andcommanders-in-chief go through such a deal of work without fagging?It was not yet two hours since he was jolting about in that omnibus-box, and there he had been all night. I could not have gone off tothe Well of Moses immediately on my arrival. It's the dignity ofthe position that does it. I have long known that the head of afirm must never count on a mere clerk to get through as much work ashe could do himself. It's the interest in the matter that supportsthe man.They went, and Sir George, as I was well assured, had never heard aword about me. Had he done so, is it probable that he would haverequested my attendance?But Mahmoud and his followers no doubt kept their own counsel as tothat little mistake. There they went, and the gentle ripplingbreeze filled their sail pleasantly, as the boat moved away into thebay. I felt no spite against any of them but Mahmoud. Why had heavoided me with such cowardice? I could still see them when themorning tchibouk was handed to Sir George; and, though I wished himno harm, I did envy him as he lay there reclining luxuriously uponthe cushions.A more wretched day than that I never spent in my life. As I wentin and out, the porter at the gate absolutely scoffed at me. Once Imade up my mind to complain within the house. But what could I havesaid of the dirty Arab? They would have told me that it was hisreligion, or a national observance, or meant for a courtesy. Whatcan a man do, in a strange country, when he is told that a nativespits in his face by way of civility? I bore it, I bore it--like aman; and sighed for the comforts of Friday Street.As to one matter, I made up my mind on that day, and I fully carriedout my purpose on the next: I would go across to the Well of Mosesin a boat. I would visit the coasts of Asia. And I would ride backinto Africa on a camel. Though I did it alone, I would have myday's pleasuring. I had money in my pocket, and, though it mightcost me 20 pounds, I would see all that my namesake had seen. Itdid cost me the best part of 20 pounds; and as for the pleasuring, Icannot say much for it.I went to bed early that night, having concluded my bargain for themorrow with a rapacious Arab who spoke English. I went to bed earlyin order to escape the returning party, and was again on the quay atsix the next morning. On this occasion, I stepped boldly into theboat the very moment that I came along the shore. There is nothingin the world like paying for what you use. I saw myself to thebottle of brandy and the cold meat, and acknowledged that a cigarout of my own case would suit me better than that long stick. Thelong stick might do very well for a Governor of Pegu, but would behighly inconvenient in Friday Street.Well, I am not going to give an account of my day's journey here,though perhaps I may do so some day. I did go to the Well of Moses--if a small dirty pool of salt water, lying high above the sands,can be called a well; I did eat my dinner in the miserable ruinedcottage which they graced by the name of a pavilion; and, alas formy poor bones! I did ride home upon a camel. If Sir George did soearly, and started for Pegu the next morning--and I was informedsuch was the fact--he must have been made of iron. I laid in bedthe whole day suffering greviously; but I was told that on such ajourney I should have slakened my throat with oranges, and not withbrandy.I survived those four terrible days which remained to me at Suez,and after another month was once again in Friday Street. I sufferedgreatly on the occasion; but it is some consolation to me to reflectthat I smoked a pipe of peace with Mahmoud al Ackbar; that I saw thehero of Begum while journeying out to new triumphs at Pegu; that Isailed into Asia in my own yacht--hired for the occasion; and that Irode back into Africa on a camel. Nor can Judkins, with all hisill-nature, rob me of these remembrances.

　　THE END.* * * * * * * * * * * *

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