The Bertrams

  CHAPTER VIII.

  CAIRO.

  Men and women, or I should rather say ladies and gentlemen, used longago, when they gave signs of weakness about the chest, to be sent tothe south of Devonshire; after that, Madeira came into fashion; butnow they are all despatched to Grand Cairo. Cairo has grown to be sonear home, that it will soon cease to be beneficial, and then theonly air capable of revigorating the English lungs will be that ofLabuan or Jeddo.

  But at the present moment, Grand Cairo has the vogue. Now it had sohappened during the last winter, and especially in the trying monthof March, that Arthur Wilkinson's voice had become weak; and he hada suspicious cough, and was occasionally feverish, and perspiredo'nights; and on these accounts the Sir Omicron of the Hurst Stapledistrict ordered him off to Grand Cairo.

  This order was given in October, with reference to the coming winter,and in the latter end of November, Arthur Wilkinson started for theEast. Two articles he had first to seek--the one being a necessary,and the other a luxury--and both he found. These were a curate anda companion. The Reverend Gabriel Gilliflower was his curate; andof him we need only hope that he prospered well, and lived happilyunder the somewhat stern surveillance of his clerical superior, Mrs.Wilkinson. His companion was George Bertram.

  About the end of November they started through France, and got onboard the P. and O. Company's vessel at Marseilles. It is possiblethat there may be young ladies so ignorant as not to know that the P.and O. is the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company, andtherefore the matter is now explained. In France they did not stoplong enough to do more than observe how much better the railwaycarriages are there than in England, how much dearer the hotels arein Paris than in London, and how much worse they are in Marseillesthan in any other known town in the world.

  Nor need much be said of their journey thence to Alexandria. OfMalta, I should like to write a book, and may perhaps do so someday; but I shall hardly have time to discuss its sunlight, andfortifications, and hospitality, and old magnificence, in the fag-endof a third volume; so we will pass on to Alexandria.

  Oh, Alexandria! mother of sciences! once the favoured seat of theearth's learning! Oh, Alexandria! beloved by the kings! It is of nouse. No man who has seen the Alexandria of the present day can keepa seat on a high horse when he speaks of that most detestable ofcities. How may it fitly be described? May we not say that it has allthe filth of the East, without any of that picturesque beauty withwhich the East abounds; and that it has also the eternal, grasping,solemn love of lucre which pervades our western marts, but whollyunredeemed by the society, the science, and civilization of the West?

  Alexandria is fast becoming a European city; but its Europeans arefrom Greece and the Levant! "Auri sacra fames!" is the motto ofmodern Greece. Of Alexandria it should be, "Auri fames sacrissima!"Poor Arabs! poor Turks! giving way on all sides to wretches so muchviler than yourselves, what a destiny is before you!

  "What income," I asked a resident in Alexandria, "what incomeshould an Englishman have to live here comfortably?" "To live here_comfortably_, you should say ten thousand a year, and then let himcut his throat first!" Such was my friend's reply.

  But God is good, and Alexandria will become a place less detestablethan at present. Fate and circumstances must Anglicize it in spite ofthe huge French consulate, in spite of legions of greedy Greeks; inspite even of sand, musquitos, bugs, and dirt, of winds from India,and of thieves from Cyprus.

  The P. and O. Company will yet be the lords of Egypt; either thator some other company or set of men banded together to make Egypt ahighway. It is one stage on our road to the East; and the time willsoon come when of all the stages it will neither be the slowest northe least comfortable. The railway from Alexandria to Suez is nowall opened within ten miles; will be all opened before these pagescan be printed. This railway belongs to the viceroy of Egypt; buthis passengers are the Englishmen of India, and his paymaster is anEnglish company.

  But, for all that, I do not recommend any of my friends to make along sojourn at Alexandria.

  Bertram and Wilkinson did not do so, but passed on speedily to Cairo.They went to the Pharos and to Pompey's Pillar; inspected Cleopatra'sNeedle, and the newly excavated so-called Greek church; watched thehigh spirits of one set of passengers going out to India--young menfree of all encumbrances, and pretty girls full of life's brightesthopes--and watched also the morose, discontented faces of another setreturning home, burdened with babies and tawny-coloured nurses, withsilver rings in their toes--and then they went off to Cairo.

  There is no romance now, gentle readers, in this journey fromAlexandria to Cairo; nor was there much when it was taken by our twofriends. Men now go by railway, and then they went by the canal boat.It is very much like English travelling, with this exception, thatmen dismount from their seats, and cross the Nile in a ferry-boat,and that they pay five shillings for their luncheon instead ofsixpence. This ferry does, perhaps, afford some remote chance ofadventure, as was found the other day, when a carriage was allowedto run down the bank, in which was sitting a native prince, the heirto the pasha's throne. On that occasion the adventure was important,and the prince was drowned. But even this opportunity for incidentwill soon disappear; for Mr. Brunel, or Mr. Stephenson, or Mr. Locke,or some other British engineering celebrity, is building a railwaybridge over the Nile, and then the modern traveller's heart will becontented, for he will be able to sleep all the way from Alexandriato Cairo.

  Mr. Shepheard's hotel at Cairo is to an Englishman the centreof Egypt, and there our two friends stopped. And certainly ourcountrymen have made this spot more English than England itself.If ever John Bull reigned triumphant anywhere; if he ever showshis nature plainly marked by rough plenty, coarseness, and goodintention, he does so at Shepheard's hotel. If there be anywhere agenuine, old-fashioned John Bull landlord now living, the landlord ofthe hotel at Cairo is the man. So much for the strange new faces andoutlandish characters which one meets with in one's travels.

  I will not trouble my readers by a journey up the Nile; nor willI even take them up a pyramid. For do not fitting books for suchpurposes abound at Mr. Mudie's? Wilkinson and Bertram made both thelarge tour and the little one in proper style. They got as least asfar as Thebes, and slept a night under the shade of King Cheops.

  One little episode on their road from Cairo to the Pyramids, I willtell. They had joined a party of which the conducting spirit was amissionary clergyman, who had been living in the country for someyears, and therefore knew its ways. No better conducting spiritfor such a journey could have been found; for he joined economy toenterprise, and was intent that everything should be seen, and thateverything should be seen cheaply.

  Old Cairo is a village some three miles from the city, higher up theriver; and here, close to the Nilometer, by which the golden increaseof the river is measured, tourists going to the Pyramids are ferriedover the river. The tourists are ferried over, as also are thedonkeys on which the tourists ride. Now here arose a great financialquestion. The reis or master of the ferry-boat to which the clericalguide applied was a mighty man, some six feet high, graced with aturban, as Arabs are; erect in his bearing, with bold eye, and fine,free, supple limbs--a noble reis for that Nile ferry-boat. But, nobleas he was, he wanted too many piastres--twopence-halfpenny a head toomuch for each donkey, with its rider.

  And then there arose a great hubbub. The ordinary hubbub at this spotis worse than the worst confusion of any other Babel. For the trafficover the Nile is great, and for every man, woman, and child, forevery horse and every ass, for every bundle of grass, for every cockand for every hen, a din of twenty tongues is put in motion, and aperpetual fury rages, as the fury of a hurricane. But the hubbubabout the missionary's piastres rose higher than all the otherhubbubs. Indeed, those who were quarrelling before about their ownaffairs came and stood round in a huge circle, anxious to know howthe noble reis and his clerical opponent would ultimately settle thisstiff financial difficulty.

  In half an hour
neither side would yield one point; but then at lastthe Egyptian began to show that, noble as he looked, he was madeof stuff compressible. He gradually gave up, para by para, till heallowed donkeys, men, and women to clamber over the sides of his boatat the exact price named by him of the black coat. Never did thechurch have a more perfect success.

  But the battle was not yet over. No sooner was the vessel pushedoff into the stream, than the noble reis declared that necessitycompelled him to demand the number of piastres originally named byhim. He regretted it, but he assured the clergyman that he had noother alternative.

  And now how did it behove an ardent missionary to act in such acontest with a subtle Egyptian? How should the eloquence of thechurch prevail over this Eastern Mammon? It did prevail verysignally. The soldier of peace, scorning further argument in wordswith such a crafty reis, mindful of the lessons of his youth, raisedhis right hand, and with one blow between the eyes, laid the Arabcaptain prostrate on his own deck.

  "There," said he, turning to Wilkinson, "that is what we call apastoral visitation in this country. We can do nothing without it."

  The poor reis picked himself up, and picked up also his turban, whichhad been knocked off, and said not a word more about the piastres.All the crew worked with double diligence at their oars, and theparty, as they disembarked from the boat, were treated with especialdeference. Even the donkeys were respected. In Egypt the donkeys ofa man are respected, ay, and even his donkey-boys, when he showshimself able and willing to knock down all those around him.

  A great man there, a native, killed his cook one morning in a rage;and a dragoman, learned in languages, thus told the story to anEnglishman:--"De sahib, him vera respecble man. Him kill him cook,Solyman, this morning. Oh, de sahib particklar respecble!" Afterall, it may be questioned whether this be not a truer criterion ofrespectability than that other one of keeping a gig.

  Oh, those pyramid guides! foul, false, cowardly, bullying thieves! Aman who goes to Cairo _must_ see the Pyramids. Convention, and thelaws of society as arranged on that point, of course require it. Butlet no man, and, above all, no woman, assume that the excursion willbe in any way pleasurable. I have promised that I will not describesuch a visit, but I must enter a loud, a screeching protest againstthe Arab brutes--the schieks being the very worst of the brutes--whohave these monuments in their hands. Their numbers, the filthiness oftheir dress--or one might almost say no dress--their stench, theirobscene indecency, their clattering noise, their rapacity, exercisedwithout a moment's intercession; their abuse, as in this wise: "Verybad English-man; dam bad; dam, dam, dam! Him want to take all himmoney to the grave; but no, no, no! Devil hab him, and money too!"This, be it remembered, from a ferocious, almost blackened Arab, withhis face within an inch of your own. And then their flattery, as inthis wise: "Good English-man--very good!"--and then a tawny hand patsyour face, and your back, and the calves of your leg--"Him gib poorArab one shilling for himself--yes, yes, yes! and then Arab no lethim tumble down and break all him legs--yes, yes; break _all_ himlegs." And then the patting goes on again. These things, I say, puttogether, make a visit to the Pyramids no delightful recreation. Myadvice to my countrymen who are so unfortunate as to visit them isthis: Let the ladies remain below--not that they ever will do so, ifthe gentlemen who are with them ascend--and let the men go armed withstout sticks, and mercilessly belabour any Arab who attempts eitherto bully or to wheedle.

  Let every Englishman remember this also, that the ascent is notdifficult, though so much noise is made about the difficulty asnaturally to make a man think that it is so. And let this also beremembered, that nothing is to be gained by entering the pyramidexcept dirt, noise, stench, vermin, abuse, and want of air. Nothingis to be seen there--nothing to be heard. A man may sprain hisankle, and certainly will knock his head. He will encounter no otherdelights but these.

  But he certainly will come out a wiser man than he went in. He willthen be wise enough to know how wretched a place is the interior ofa pyramid--an amount of wisdom with which no teaching of mine willimbue him.

  Bertram and Wilkinson were sitting beneath the pyramid, with theirfaces toward the desert, enjoying the cool night air, when theyfirst began to speak of Adela Gauntlet. Hitherto Arthur had hardlymentioned her name. They had spoken much of his mother, much of thehouse at Hurst Staple, and much also of Lady Harcourt, of whoseseparation from her husband they were of course aware; but Arthur hadbeen shy of mentioning Adela's name.

  They had been speaking of Mrs. Wilkinson, and the disagreeableposition in which the vicar found himself in his own house; when,after sitting silent for a moment, he said, "After all, George,I sometimes think that it would have been better for me to havemarried."

  "Of course it would--or rather, I should say, will be better. It iswhat you will do when you return."

  "I don't know about my health now."

  "Your health will be right enough after this winter. I don't see muchthe matter with it."

  "I am better, certainly;" and then there was another pause.

  "Arthur," continued Bertram, "I only wish that I had open before methe same chance in life that you have--the same chance of happiness."

  "Do not despair, George. A short time cures all our wounds."

  "Yes; a short time does cure them all--and then comes chaos."

  "I meant a short time in this world."

  "Well, all things are possible; but I do not understand how mine areto be cured. They have come too clearly from my own folly."

  "From such folly," said Arthur, "as always impedes the working ofhuman prudence."

  "Do you remember, Arthur, my coming to you the morning after thedegrees came down--when you were so low in spirits because you hadbroken down--when I was so full of triumph?"

  "I remember the morning well; but I do not remember any triumph onyour part."

  "Ah! I was triumphant--triumphant in my innermost heart. I thoughtthen that all the world must give way to me, because I had taken adouble-first. And now--I have given way before all the world. Whathave I done with all the jewels of my youth? Thrown them beforeswine!"

  "Come, George; you are hardly seven-and-twenty yet."

  "No, hardly; and I have no profession, no fortune, no pursuit, andno purpose. I am here, sitting on the broken stone of an old tomb,merely because it is as well for me to be here as elsewhere. I havemade myself to be one as to whose whereabouts no man need makeinquiry--and no woman. If that black, one-eyed brute, whom I thrasheda-top of the pyramid, had stuck his knife in me, who would have beenthe worse for it? You, perhaps--for six weeks or so."

  "You know there are many would have wept for you."

  "I know but one. She would have wept, while it would be ten timesbetter that she should rejoice. Yes, she would weep; for I havemarred her happiness as I have marred my own. But who cares for me,of whose care I can be proud? Who is anxious for me, whom I can dareto thank, whom I may dare to love?"

  "Do we not love you at Hurst Staple?"

  "I do not know. But I know this, that you ought to be ashamed of me.I think Adela Gauntlet is my friend; that is, if in our pig-headedcountry a modest girl may love a man who is neither her brother norher lover."

  "I am sure she is," said Arthur; and then there was another pause."Do you know," he continued, "I once thought--"

  "Thought what?"

  "That you were fond of Adela."

  "So I am, heartily fond of her."

  "But I mean more than that."

  "You once thought that I would have married her if I could. That iswhat you mean."

  "Yes," said Wilkinson, blushing to his eyes. But it did not matter;for no one could see him.

  "Well, I will make a clean breast of it, Arthur. Men can talk here,sitting in the desert, who would be as mute as death at home inEngland. Yes; there was once a moment, once _one_ moment, in which Iwould have married her--a moment in which I flattered myself that Icould forget Caroline Waddington. Ah! if I could tell you how Adelabehaved!"

  "How did she
behave? Tell me--what did she say?" said Arthur, withalmost feverish anxiety.

  "She bade me remember, that those who dare to love must dare tosuffer. She told me that the wounded stag, 'that from the hunter'saim has ta'en a hurt,' must endure to live, 'left and abandonedof his velvet friends.'--And she told me true. I have not allher courage; but I will take a lesson from her, and learn tosuffer--quietly, without a word, if that be possible."

  "Then you did propose to her?"

  "No; hardly that. I cannot tell what I said myself; but 'twas thusshe answered me."

  "But what do you mean by taking a lesson from her? Has she any suchsuffering?"

  "Nay! You may ask her. I did not."

  "But you said so just now; at any rate you left me to infer it. Isthere any one whom Adela Gauntlet really loves?"

  George Bertram did not answer the question at once. He had plightedhis word to her as her friend that he would keep her secret; andthen, moreover, that secret had become known to him by mere guesses.He had no right, by any law, to say it as a fact that Adela Gauntletwas not heart-whole. But still he thought that he would say so. Whyshould he not do something towards making these two people happy?

  "Do you believe that Adela is really in love with any one?" repeatedArthur.

  "If I tell you that, will you tell me this--Are you in love with anyone--you yourself?"

  The young clergyman was again ruby red up to his forehead. He coulddare to talk about Adela, but hardly about himself.

  "I in love!" he said at last. "You know that I have been obliged tokeep out of that kind of thing. Circumstanced as I have been, I couldnot marry."

  "But that does not keep a man from falling in love."

  "Does not it?" said Arthur, rather innocently.

  "That has not preserved me--nor, I presume, has it preserved you.Come, Arthur, be honest; if a man with thirty-nine articles round hisneck can be honest. Out with the truth at once. Do you love Adela, ordo you not?"

  But the truth would not come out so easily. Whether it wasthe thirty-nine articles, or the natural modesty of the man'sdisposition, I will not say; but he did not find himself at themoment able to give a downright answer to this downright question.He would have been well pleased that Bertram should know the wholetruth; but the task of telling it went against the grain with him.

  "If you do, and do not tell her so," continued Bertram, when he foundthat he got no immediate reply, "I shall think you--. But no; a manmust be his own judge in such matters, and of all men I am the leastfit to be a judge of others. But I would that it might be so, forboth your sakes."

  "Why, you say yourself that she likes some one else."

  "I have never said so. I have said nothing like it. There; whenyou get home, do you yourself ask her whom she loves. But rememberthis--if it should chance that she should say that it is you, youmust be prepared to bear the burden, whatever may be urged to thecontrary at the vicarage. And now we will retire to roost in thishole of ours."

  Arthur had as yet made no reply to Bertram's question; but as hecrept along the base of the pyramid, feeling his steps among the sandand loose stones, he did manage to say a word or two of the truth.

  "God bless you, George. I do love her--very dearly." And then the twocousins understood each other.

  It has been said that Alexandria has nothing of an Eastern townbut its filth. This cannot at all be said of Cairo. It may bedoubted whether Bagdad itself is more absolutely oriental in itsappurtenances. When once the Englishman has removed himself fivehundred yards from Shepheard's hotel, he begins to feel that he isreally in the East. Within that circle, although it contains oneof the numerous huge buildings appropriated to the viceroy's ownpurposes, he is still in Great Britain. The donkey-boys curse inEnglish, instead of Arabic; the men you meet sauntering about, thoughthey do wear red caps, have cheeks as red; and the road is broad andmacadamized, and Britannic. But anywhere beyond that circle Lewismight begin to paint.

  Cairo is a beautiful old city; so old in the realities of age that itis crumbling into dust on every side. From time to time the housesare patched up, but only patched; and, except on the Britannic soilabove alluded to, no new houses are built. It is full of romance, ofpicturesque oriental wonders, of strange sights, strange noises, andstrange smells. When one is well in the town, every little narrowlane, every turn--and the turns are incessant--every mosque and everyshop creates fresh surprise. But I cannot allow myself to write adescription of Cairo.

  How the dervishes there spun and shook, going through their holyexercises with admirable perseverance, that I must tell. Thisoccurred towards the latter end of the winter, when Wilkinson andBertram had nearly completed their sojourn in Cairo. Not but what thedervishes had roared out their monotonous prayer to Allah, duly everyFriday, at 1 P.M., with as much precision as a service in one of yourown cathedrals; but our friends had put the thing off, as hardlybeing of much interest, and at last went there when they had only oneFriday left for the performance.

  I believe that, as a rule, a Mahomedan hates a Christian: regardinghim merely as Christian, he certainly does so. Had any tidings ofconfirmed success on the part of the rebels in India reached thefurthermost parts of the Turkish empire, no Christian life would havebeen safe there. The horrid outrage perpetrated at Jaffa, and themassacre at Jeddah, sufficiently show us what we might have expected.In Syria no Christian is admitted within a mosque, for his foot andtouch are considered to carry pollution.

  But in Egypt we have caused ourselves to be better respected: wethrash the Arabs and pay them, and therefore they are very glad tosee us anywhere. And even the dervishes welcome us to their mostsacred rites, with excellent coffee, and a loan of rush-bottomedchairs. Now, when it is remembered that a Mahomedan never uses achair, it must be confessed that this is very civil. Moreover, let itbe said to their immortal praise, that the dervishes of Cairo neverask for backsheish. They are the only people in the country that donot.

  So Bertram and Wilkinson had their coffee with sundry othertravelling Britons who were there; and then each, with his chairin his hand went into the dervishes' hall. This was a large, lofty,round room, the roof of which was in the shape of a cupola; on oneside, that which pointed towards Mecca, and therefore nearly dueeast, there was an empty throne, or tribune, in which the head ofthe college, or dean of the chapter of dervishes, located himselfon his haunches. He was a handsome, powerful man, of about forty,with a fine black beard, dressed in a flowing gown, and covered bya flat-topped black cap.

  By degrees, and slowly, in came the college of the dervishes, andseated themselves as their dean was seated; but they sat on the floorin a circle, which spread away from the tribune, getting larger andlarger in its dimensions as fresh dervishes came in. There was notmuch attention to regularity in their arrival, for some appearedbarely in time for the closing scene.

  The commencement was tame enough. Still seated, they shouted out ashort prayer to Allah a certain number of times. The number was saidto be ninety-nine. But they did not say the whole prayer at once,though it consisted of only three words. They took the first wordninety-nine times; and then the second; and then the third. The onlysound to be recognized was that of Allah; but the deep guttural tonein which this was groaned out by all the voices together, made eventhat anything but a distinct word.

  And so this was completed, the circle getting ever larger and larger.And it was remarked that men came in as dervishes who belonged tovarious ordinary pursuits and trades; there were soldiers in thecircle, and, apparently, common labourers. Indeed, any one may join;though I presume he would do so with some danger were it discoveredthat he were not a Mahomedan.

  Those who specially belonged to the college had peculiar gowns andcaps, and herded together on one side of the circle; and it appearedto our friends, that throughout the entertainment they were by farthe least enthusiastic of the performers.

  When this round of groaning had been completed--and it occupiedprobably half an hour--a young lad, perhaps of seventeen years, veryhandsom
e, and handsomely dressed in a puce-coloured cloak, or ratherpetticoat, with a purple hat on his head, in shape like an invertedflower-pot, slipped forth from near the tribune into the middle ofthe circle, and began to twirl. After about five or six minutes, twoother younger boys, somewhat similarly dressed, did the same, andtwirled also; so that there were three twirling together.

  But the twirling of the elder boy was by far the more graceful. Letany young lady put out both her hands, so as to bring the one to thelevel of her waist, and the other with the crown of her head, andthen go round and round, as nearly as possible on the same spot; lether do this so that no raising of either foot shall ever be visible;and let her continue it for fifteen minutes, without any variation inthe attitude of her arms, or any sign of fatigue,--and then she maygo in for a twirling dervish. It is absurd to suppose that any malecreature in England could perform the feat. During this twirling, alittle black boy marked the time, by beating with two sticks on arude gong.

  This dance was kept up at first for fifteen minutes. Then there wasanother short spell of howling; then another dance, or twirl; andthen the real game began.

  The circle had now become so large as to occupy the greater part ofthe hall, and was especially swelled by sundry new arrivals at thismoment. In particular, there came one swarthy, tall, wretched-lookingcreature, with wild eyes, wan face, and black hair of extraordinarylength, who took up his position, standing immediately opposite tothe tribune. Other new comers also stood near him, all of whom wereremarkable for the length of their hair. Some of them had it tied upbehind like women, and now proceeded to unloose it.

  But at this period considerable toilet preparations were made forthe coming work. All those in the circle who had not come in fromthe college with gowns and caps, and one or two even of them,deliberately took off their outer clothing, and tied it up inbundles. These bundles they removed to various corners, so thateach might again find his own clothes. One or two put on calicodressing-gowns, which appeared to have been placed ready for thepurpose; and among these was the cadaverous man of the black hair.

  And then they all stood up, the dean standing also before histribune, and a deep-toned murmur went round the circle. This also wasthe word Allah, as was duly explained to Bertram by his dragoman; butwithout such explanation it would have been impossible to detect thatany word was pronounced. Indeed, the sound was of such nature as tomake it altogether doubtful from whence it came. It was like no humanvoice, or amalgamation of voices; but appeared as though it camefrom the very bowels of the earth. At first it was exceedingly low,but it increased gradually, till at last one might have fanciedthat the legions of Lucifer were groaning within the very bowels ofPandemonium.

  And also, by slow degrees, a motion was seen to pervade the circle.The men, instead of standing fixedly on their legs, leaned over,first to the right and then to the left, all swaying backwards andforwards together in the same direction, so that both sound andmotion were as though they came from one compact body.

  And then, as the groan became louder, so did the motion become moreviolent, till the whole body heaved backwards and forwards with theregularity of a pendulum and the voice of a steam-engine. As theexcitement became strong, the head of the dervishes walked along theinner circle, exciting those to more violence who already seemed themost violent. This he did, standing for a few minutes before eachsuch man, bowing his own head rapidly and groaning deeply; and as hedid so, the man before whom he stood would groan and swing himselfwith terrible energy. And the men with the long hair were especiallyselected.

  And by degrees the lateral motion was abandoned, and the dervishesbowed their heads forwards instead of sideways. No one who has notseen the operation can conceive what men may achieve in the way ofbowing and groaning. They bowed till they swept the floor with theirlong hair, bending themselves double, and after each motion bringingthemselves up again to an erect posture. And the dean went backwardsand forwards from one to another, urging them on.

  By this time the sight was terrible to behold. The perspirationstreamed down them, the sounds came forth as though their very heartswere bursting, their faces were hidden by their dishevelled locks,whatever clothes they wore were reeking wet. But still they flungthemselves about, the motion becoming faster and faster; and stillthe sounds came forth as though from the very depths of Tartarus. Andstill the venerable dean went backwards and forwards slowly beforethem, urging them on, and still urging them on.

  But at last, nature with the greater number of them had made her lasteffort; the dean retired to his tribune, and the circle was brokenup. But those men with the long hair still persevered. It appeared,both to Bertram and Wilkinson, that with them the effort was nowinvoluntary. They were carried on by an ecstatic frenzy; eitherthat or they were the best of actors. The circle had broken up, thedervishes were lying listlessly along the walls, panting with heat,and nearly lifeless with their exertions; but some four, remainingwith their feet fixed in the old place, still bowed and still howled."They will die," said Bertram.

  "Will they not be stopped?" said Wilkinson to their dragoman.

  "Five minutes, five minutes!" said the dragoman. "Look at him--lookat him with the black hair!" And they did look.

  Three of them had now fallen, and the one remained still at his task.He swept the ground with his hair, absolutely striking it with hishead; and the sounds came forth from him loudly, wildly, with brokengasps, with terrible exertion, as though each would be his last, andyet they did nothing to repress him.

  At last it seemed as though the power of fully raising his head hadleft him, and also that of lowering it to the ground. But still hemade as it were a quarter-circle. His hands were clutched behind hisback, and with this singular motion, and in this singular attitude,he began to move his feet; and still groaning and half bowing, hemade a shuffling progress across the hall.

  The dervishes themselves appeared to take no notice of him. The deanstood tranquil under his tribune; those who had recovered from theirexertions were dressing themselves, the others lay about collectingtheir breath. But the eyes of every stranger were on the still movingblack-haired devotee.

  On he went, still howling and still swinging his head, right towardsthe wall of the temple. His pace was not fast, but it seemed asthough he would inevitably knock his own brains out by the motion ofhis own head; and yet nobody stopped him.

  "He'll kill himself," said Wilkinson.

  "No, no, no!" said the dragoman; "him no kill--him head berry hard."

  Bertram rushed forward as though to stay the infuriate fanatic, butone or two of the dervishes who stood around gently prevented him,without speaking a word.

  And then the finale came. Crack he went against the wall, reboundedoff, and went at it again, and then again. They were no mock blows,but serious, heavy raps, as from a small battering-ram. But yet bothBertram and Wilkinson were able to observe that he did not strike thewall, as he would naturally have done had there been no precaution.Had he struck it with his head in motion, as was intended to bebelieved, the blow would have come upon his forehead and temples,and must probably have killed him; but instead of this, just ashe approached the wall, he butted at it like a ram, and saved hisforehead at the expense of his pole. It may probably be surmised,therefore, that he knew what he was about.

  After these three raps, the man stood, still doubled up, but lookingas though he were staggered. And then he went again with his headtowards the wall. But the dean, satisfied with what had been done,now interposed, and this best of dervishes was gently laid on hisback upon the floor, while his long matted hair was drawn from offhis face. As he so lay, the sight was not agreeable to Christianeyes, whatever a true Mahomedan might think of it.

  'Twas thus the dervishes practised their religious rites at Cairo."I wonder how much that black fellow gets paid every Friday," saidBertram, as he mounted his donkey; "it ought to be something veryhandsome."