From These Tombs Of The Caliphs The Desert Is Before You.
It comes
up to the walls of the city, and stops at some gardens which spring
up all of a sudden at its edge.
You can see the first Station-
house on the Suez Road; and so from distance-point to point, could
ride thither alone without a guide.
Asinus trotted gallantly into this desert for the space of a
quarter of an hour. There we were (taking care to keep our back to
the city walls), in the real actual desert: mounds upon mounds of
sand, stretching away as far as the eye can see, until the dreary
prospect fades away in the yellow horizon! I had formed a finer
idea of it out of "Eothen." Perhaps in a simoom it may look more
awful. The only adventure that befell in this romantic place was
that Asinus's legs went deep into a hole: whereupon his rider went
over his head, and bit the sand, and measured his length there; and
upon this hint rose up, and rode home again. No doubt one should
have gone out for a couple of days' march - as it was, the desert
did not seem to me sublime, only UNCOMFORTABLE.
Very soon after this perilous adventure the sun likewise dipped
into the sand (but not to rise therefrom so quickly as I had done);
and I saw this daily phenomenon of sunset with pleasure, for I was
engaged at that hour to dine with our old friend J-, who has
established himself here in the most complete Oriental fashion.
You remember J-, and what a dandy he was, the faultlessness of his
boots and cravats, the brilliancy of his waistcoats and kid-gloves;
we have seen his splendour in Regent Street, in the Tuileries, or
on the Toledo. My first object on arriving here was to find out
his house, which he has taken far away from the haunts of European
civilisation, in the Arab quarter. It is situated in a cool,
shady, narrow alley; so narrow, that it was with great difficulty -
His Highness Ibrahim Pasha happening to pass at the same moment -
that my little procession of two donkeys, mounted by self and
valet-de-place, with the two donkey-boys our attendants, could
range ourselves along the wall, and leave room for the august
cavalcade. His Highness having rushed on (with an affable and
good-humoured salute to our imposing party), we made J.'s quarters;
and, in the first place, entered a broad covered court or porch,
where a swarthy tawny attendant, dressed in blue, with white
turban, keeps a perpetual watch. Servants in the East lie about
all the doors, it appears; and you clap your hands, as they do in
the dear old "Arabian Nights," to summon them.
This servant disappeared through a narrow wicket, which he closed
after him; and went into the inner chambers, to ask if his lord
would receive us. He came back presently, and rising up from my
donkey, I confided him to his attendant (lads more sharp, arch, and
wicked than these donkey-boys don't walk the pave of Paris or
London), and passed the mysterious outer door.
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