to
Jerusalem, he gave his host Ibrahim a bill on Beyrout, and made all his
preparations for quitting Gaza.

In the morning, when he had sent out Achmet to hire horses, and was
engaged in smoking what he hoped would be his last pipe at Gaza, an old
slave belonging to the household of the Persian presented himself. Sidney
stretched out his hand to receive the money for his bill, which he
supposed Ibrahim had sent, not being able to bring it himself at that
early hour; but, instead of a bag of money, the slave delivered to him a
letter and a bunch of keys. Sidney, supposing there was some mistake,
declined the letter and keys, and asked for his money. He could induce the
slave to utter no words but "Read it." This was not the easiest task in
the world, for Sidney was more familiar with the text of Makrizi than with
the epistolary correspondence of modern traders. After some trouble he
satisfied himself that the contents of the letter were nearly as
follows:--

"Prince of my esteem! Sovereign of my respect! Milord, Beyzade, and
Khan!--To be a good man like thy servant Ibrahim, profiteth nothing in an
evil hour. Thy host is compelled to fly to collect money for his friends.
He is in thy debt, but he places all his wealth at thy disposal, and will
arrange accounts at his return. Preserve his house and his fame as thou
lovest righteousness!--Thy servant and friend, IBRAHIM SISHMAN."

From this epistle Sidney could only collect one fact with certainty, and
that was, that his friend Ibrahim Sishman had decamped with the bill on
Beyrout, leaving him at Gaza without a dollar.

While he was meditating on this new misfortune, Achmet rushed into the
room, exclaiming, with the greatest vehemence,--"They won't let us go! Are
we slaves? Are we not Englishmen? Come to the Bey, Mr Sidney--come to the
Bey." As Sidney could extract nothing from Achmet but a rapid repetition
of these words, nor conjecture what relationship existed between the Bey
and the letter in his hand, to which Achmet pointed in a paroxysm of rage
which choked his utterance, to the Bey he resolved to go. He marched off
accordingly with the letter and the bunch of keys in his hand.

On arriving at the divan of Hafiz Bey, he found many of the principal
inhabitants of Gaza already assembled; and he had no sooner saluted the
Bey and the visitors, according to the formal ceremonial of Turkish
etiquette, than the governor said, with great gravity--"Now, here is the
Engli