nd it extremely
difficult to keep up with him. At last, entering a dirtier street than
any we had so far encountered, he stopped short before a tall, austere
building which from a variety of evidences had seen better days, and
might a couple of centuries or so before have been the residence of some
well-to-do merchant. Mounting the steps, he rapped sharply upon the door
with his stick. A sound of laughter and the voice of a man singing
reached us from within, and when Pharos knocked a second time the
rapidity of the blows and the strength with which they were administered
bore witness to his impatience. At last, however, the door was opened a
few inches by a man who looked out and inquired with an oath what we
wanted.

"I have come in search of Captain Wisemann," my companion answered. "If
he is at home, tell him that if he does not receive Monsieur Pharos at
once, he knows the penalty. Carry him that message and be quick about
it. I have waited at this door quite long enough."

With an unintelligible grunt the man departed on his errand, and it was
plain that the news he brought had a sobering effect upon the company
within, for a sudden silence prevailed, and a few moments later he
returned and begged us with comparative civility to enter. We did so,
and followed our guide along a filthy passage to a room at the back of
the dwelling, a magnificent chamber, panelled with old oak, every inch
of which spoke of an age and an art long since dead. The dirt of the
place, however, passes description. Under the _regime_ of the present
owner, it seemed doubtful whether any attempt had ever been made to
clean it. The ceiling was begrimed with smoke and dirt, cobwebs not only
decorated the cornices and the carved figures on the chimneypiece, but
much of the panelling on the walls themselves was cracked and broken. On
the table in the centre of the room was all that remained of a repast,
and at this Pharos sniffed disdainfully.

"A pig he was when I first met him, and a pig he will remain to the day
of his death," said Pharos, by way of introducing the man upon whom we
were calling. "However, a pig is at all times a useful animal, and so is
Wisemann."

At this moment the man of whom he had spoken in these scarcely
complimentary terms entered the room.

I have elsewhere described the Arab who met Pharos at the Pyramids, on
the occasion of my momentous visit, as being the biggest man I had ever
beheld in my life, and so he was