"It looks," said Burton, "as if London were in mourning for some great
national crime."

To which Mrs. Burton replied, "Let us try to think, darling, that our
country wears mourning for our departure into exile."

On reaching Boulogne they sought out some of their old acquaintances,
including M. Constantin, Burton's fencing master. After a brief stay in
Paris, they proceeded to Trieste, ate their Christmas dinner, and then
set out for India, partly for pleasure and partly for the purpose of
collecting information about the abandoned diamond mines of Golconda.

81. A Trip to India, December 1875, 18th June 1876.

The Suez Canal, which had been finished some five years previous, gave
them much pleasure, and it was like living life over again to see the
camels, the Bedawin in cloak and kuffiyyah, the women in blue garments,
and to smell the pure air of the desert. On reaching Yambu, Burton
enquired whether Sa'ad the robber chief, who had attacked the caravan in
the journey to Mecca days, still lived; and was told that the dog long
since made his last foray, and was now safe in Jehannum. [284] They
landed at Jiddah, where Burton was well received, although everyone
knew the story of his journey to Mecca, and on rejoining their ship they
found on board eight hundred pilgrims of a score of nationalities. Then
a storm came on. The pilgrims howled with fright, and during the voyage
twenty-three died of privation, vermin, hunger and thirst. Says Mrs.
Burton: [285] "They won't ask, but if they see a kind face they speak
with their eyes as an animal does." At Aden Burton enquired after
his old Harar companions. Shahrazad was still in Aden, the coquettish
Dunyazad in Somaliland, the Kalandar had been murdered by the Isa tribe,
and The End of Time had "died a natural death"--that is to say, somebody
had struck a spear into him. [286] Bombay was reached on February 2nd.

82. Arbuthnot Again. Rehatsek.

The first person Burton called on was his old friend, Forster FitzGerald
Arbuthnot, who now occupied there the important position of "Collector."
Arbuthnot, like other people, had got older, but his character had
not changed a tittle. Business-like and shrewd, yet he continued to be
kindly, and would go out of his way to do a philanthropic action, and
without fuss of parade. A friend describes him as "a man of the world,
but quite untainted by it." He used to spend the winter in Bombay, and
the summer in his char