The Mules Began To Loiter Most Abominably - Water The
Muleteers Must Have - And, Behold, We Came To A Pleasant-Looking
Village of trees standing on a hill; children were shaking figs
from the trees - women were going about - before us
Was the mosque of
a holy man - the village, looking like a collection of little forts,
rose up on the hill to our right, with a long view of the fields
and gardens stretching from it, and camels arriving with their
burdens. Here we must stop; Paolo, the chief servant, knew the
Sheikh of the village - he very good man - give him water and supper-
-water very good here - in fact we began to think of the propriety
of halting here for the night, and making our entry into Jerusalem
on the next day.
A man on a handsome horse dressed in red came prancing up to us,
looking hard at the ladies in the litter, and passed away. Then
two others sauntered up, one handsome, and dressed in red too, and
he stared into the litter without ceremony, began to play with a
little dog that lay there, asked if we were Inglees, and was
answered by me in the affirmative. Paolo had brought the water,
the most delicious draught in the world. The gentlefolks had had
some, the poor muleteers were longing for it. The French maid, the
courageous Victoire (never since the days of Joan of Arc has there
surely been a more gallant and virtuous female of France) refused
the drink; when suddenly a servant of the party scampers up to his
master and says:
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