milked in.  At Girgeh I found my former friend Mishregi absent, but his servants told some of his friends of my arrival, and about seven or eight big black turbans soon gathered in the boat.  A darling little Coptic boy came with his father and wanted a ‘kitaab’ (book) to write in, so I made one with paper and the cover of my old pocket-book, and gave him a pencil.  I also bethought me of showing him ‘pickys’ in a book, which was so glorious a novelty that he wanted to go with me to my town, ‘Beled Ingleez,’ where more such books were to be found.

SIOUT,
March 9.

I found here letters from Alick, telling me of dear Lord Lansdowne’s death.  Of course I know that his time was come, but the thought that I shall never see his face again, that all that kindness and affection is gone out of my life, is a great blow.  No friend could leave such a blank to me as that old and faithful one, though the death of younger ones might be more tragic; but so many things seem gone with him into the grave.  Many indeed will mourn that kind, wise, steadfast man—­Antiqua fides.  No one nowadays will be so noble with such unconsciousness and simplicity.  I have bought two Coptic turbans to make a black dress out of.  I thought I should like to wear it for him—­here, where ‘compliment’ is out of the question.

I also found a letter from Janet, who has been very ill; the account was so bad that I have telegraphed to hear how she is, and shall go at once to Alexandria if she is not better.  If she is I shall hold to my plan and see Beni Hassan and the Pyramids on my way to Cairo.  I found my kind friend the Copt Wassef kinder than ever.  He went off to telegraph to Alexandria for me, and showed so much feeling and real kindness that I was quite touched.

I was grieved to hear that you had been ill again, dearest Mutter.  The best is that I feel so much better that I think I may come home again without fear; I still have an irritable cough, but it has begun to have lucid intervals, and is far less frequent.  I can walk four or five miles and my appetite is good.  All this in spite of really cold weather in a boat where nothing shuts within two fingers’ breadths.  I long to be again with my own people.

Please send this to Alick, to whom I will write again from Cairo.

March 10, 1863:  Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon. March 10, 1863.

   ’If in the street I led thee, dearest,
   Though the veil hid thy face divine,
   They who beheld thy graceful motion
   Would stagger as though drunk with wine.

   Nay, e’en the holy Sheykh, while praying
   For guidance in the narrow way,
   Must needs leave off, and on the traces
   Of thine enchanting footsteps stray.

   O ye who go down in the boats to Dumyat,
   Cross, I beseech ye, the stream to Budallah;
   Seek my beloved, and beg that she will not
   Forget me, I pray and implore her by Allah.