slaughter of the active enemy.

I had written the first page just as I got to Siout and was stopped by
bad news of Janet; but now all is right again, and I am to meet her in
Cairo, and she proposes a jaunt to Suez and to Damietta. I have got a
superb illumination to-night, improvised by Omar in honour of the Prince
of Wales's marriage, and consequently am writing with flaring candles, my
lantern being on duty at the masthead, and the men are singing an
epithalamium and beating the tarabookeh as loud as they can.

You will have seen my letter to my mother, and heard how much better I am
for the glorious air of Nubia and the high up-country. Already we are
returning into misty weather. I dined and spent the day with Wassef and
his Hareem, such an amiable, kindly household. I was charmed with their
manner to each other, to the slaves and family. The slaves (all Muslims)
told Omar what an excellent master they had. He had meant to make a
dance-fantasia, but as I had not good news it was countermanded. Poor
Wassef ate his boiled beans rather ruefully, while his wife and I had an
excellent dinner, she being excused fasting on account of a coming baby.
The Copt fast is no joke, neither butter, milk, eggs nor fish being
allowed for fifty-five days. They made Sally dine with us, and Omar was
admitted to wait and interpret. Wassef's younger brother waited on him
as in the Bible, and his clerk, a nice young fellow, assisted. Black
slaves brought the dishes in, and capital the food was. There was plenty
of joking between the lady and Omar about Ramadan, which he had broken,
and the Nasranee fast, and also about the number of wives allowed, the
young clerk intimating that he rather liked that point in Islam. I have
promised to spend ten or twelve days at their house if ever I go up the
Nile again. I have also promised to send Wassef all particulars as to
the expense, etc. of educating his boy in England, and to look after him
and have him to our house in the holidays. I can't describe how
anxiously kind these people were to me. One gets such a wonderful amount
of sympathy and real hearty kindness here. A curious instance of the
affinity of the British mind for prejudice is the way in which every
Englishman I have seen scorns the Eastern Christians, and droll enough
that sinners like Kinglake and I should be the only people to feel the
tie of the 'common faith' (_vide_ 'Eothen'). A very pious Scotch
gentleman wondere