s host to his Quaker visitor. He used to
say that he was sure God had sent him to his house as an honoured
guest. 'For,' he continued, 'when my own countrymen come to me, they
are little to me, but thee I can willingly receive.' 'The old man
would admire the Lord's doing in this thing, and he did love me
exceedingly much,' his visitor records gratefully. 'But the friars had
so far prevailed with the Consul that in twenty days I could not be
received into a vessel for to go to Jerusalem, so that I knew not but
to have gone by land; yet it was several days' journey, and I knew not
the way, not so much as out of the city, besides the great difficulty
there is in going through the country beyond my expression; yet I, not
looking at the hardships but at the heavenly will of our Lord, I was
made to cry in my heart, "Lord, Thy will be done and not mine." And so
being prepared to go, and taking leave of the tender old man, he
cried, "I should be destroyed if I went by land," and would not let me
go.'

The friars had told the Consul that Robinson had refused to accept
their conditions, 'He will turn Turk,' they said, 'and be a devil.'
But, thanks to Surrubi's kindness and help, after much trouble
Robinson was at length set aboard another ship bound for the south.
And thus after bidding a grateful farewell to his host, he made a
quick passage and came for the second time to Jaffa. Again he set
forth on his last perilous journey. Only a few miles of fertile plain
to cross, only a few hours of climbing up the dim blue hills that were
already in view on the horizon, and then at last he should reach his
goal, the Holy City.

Even yet it was not to be! This time his troubles began before ever he
came within sight of the tall Tower of Ramleh, under whose shadow his
enemies, the friars, were still lying in wait for him. He says that
having 'left the ship and paid his passage, and having met with many
people on the way, they peacefully passed him by until he had gone
about six miles out of Jaffa.' But on the long straight road that runs
like a dusty white ribbon across the wide parched Plain of Sharon, he
beheld three other figures coming towards him. Two of them rode on the
stately white asses used by travellers of the East. The third, a
person of less consequence, followed on foot. As they came nearer, our
traveller noticed that they all carried guns as well as fierce-looking
daggers stuck in their swathed girdles. However, arms are