ALICK,

You will have heard from my mother of my ill luck, falling sick again.
The fact is that the spring in Egypt is very trying, and I came down the
river a full month too soon. People do tell such lies about the heat.
To-day is the first warm day we have had; till now I have been shivering,
and Sally too. I have been out twice, and saw the holy Mahmaal rest for
its first station outside the town, it is a deeply affecting sight--all
those men prepared to endure such hardship. They halt among the tombs of
the Khalifah, such a spot. Omar's eyes were full of tears and his voice
shaking with emotion, as he talked about it and pointed out the Mahmaal
and the Sheykh al-Gemel, who leads the sacred camel, naked to the waist
with flowing hair. Muslim piety is so unlike what Europeans think it is,
so full of tender emotions, so much more sentimental than we imagine--and
it is wonderfully strong. I used to hear Omar praying outside my door
while I was so ill, 'O God, make her better. O my God, let her sleep,'
as naturally as we should say, 'I hope she'll have a good night.'

The Sultan's coming is a kind of riddle. No one knows what he wants.
The Pasha has ordered all the women of the lower classes to keep indoors
while he is here. Arab women are outspoken, and might shout out their
grievances to the great Sultan.

_April_ 15.--I continue to get better slowly, and in a few days will go
down to Alexandria. Omar is gone to Boulak to inquire the cost of a
boat, as I am not fond of the railroad, and have a good deal of heavy
baggage, cooking utensils, etc., which the railway charges enormously
for. The black slave girl, sent as a present to the American
Consul-General, is as happy as possible, and sings quaint, soft little
Kordofan songs all day. I hope you won't object to my bringing her home.
She wails so terribly when Omar tells her she is not my slave, for fear I
should leave her, and insists on being my slave. She wants to be a
present to Rainie, the little Sitt, and laughs out so heartily at the
thought of her. She is very quiet and gentle, poor little savage, and
the utter slavishness of the poor little soul quite upsets me; she has no
will of her own. Now she has taken to talking, and tells all her woes
and how _batal_ (bad) everyone was at Khartoum; and then she rubs her
little black nose on my hand, and laughs so merrily, and says all is
_quyis keteer_ (very good) here, and she hugs herself with delight.