working with ivory needles at what had the appearance of being embroidery frames.  These women were also deaf and dumb.  At the farther end of this great lamp-lit apartment was another doorway closed in with heavy Oriental-looking curtains, quite unlike those that hung before the doors of our own rooms, and here stood two particularly handsome girl mutes, their heads bowed upon their bosoms and their hands crossed in an attitude of humble submission.  As we advanced they each stretched out an arm and drew back the curtains.  Thereupon Billali did a curious thing.  Down he went, that venerable-looking old gentleman—­for Billali is a gentleman at the bottom—­down on to his hands and knees, and in this undignified position, with his long white beard trailing on the ground, he began to creep into the apartment beyond.  I followed him, standing on my feet in the usual fashion.  Looking over his shoulder he perceived it.

“Down, my son; down, my Baboon; down on to thy hands and knees.  We enter the presence of She, and, if thou art not humble, of a surety she will blast thee where thou standest.”

I halted, and felt scared.  Indeed, my knees began to give way of their own mere motion; but reflection came to my aid.  I was an Englishman, and why, I asked myself, should I creep into the presence of some savage woman as though I were a monkey in fact as well as in name?  I would not and could not do it, that is, unless I was absolutely sure that my life or comfort depended upon it.  If once I began to creep upon my knees I should always have to do so, and it would be a patent acknowledgment of inferiority.  So, fortified by an insular prejudice against “kootooing,” which has, like most of our so-called prejudices, a good deal of common sense to recommend it, I marched in boldly after Billali.  I found myself in another apartment, considerably smaller than the anteroom, of which the walls were entirely hung with rich-looking curtains of the same make as those over the door, the work, as I subsequently discovered, of the mutes who sat in the antechamber and wove them in strips, which were afterwards sewn together.  Also, here and there about the room, were settees of a beautiful black wood of the ebony tribe, inlaid with ivory, and all over the floor were other tapestries, or rather rugs.  At the top end of this apartment was what appeared to be a recess, also draped with curtains, through which shone rays of light.  There was nobody in the place except ourselves.

Painfully and slowly old Billali crept up the length of the cave, and with the most dignified stride that I could command I followed after him.  But I felt that it was more or less of a failure.  To begin with, it is not possible to look dignified when you are following in the wake of an old man writhing along on his stomach like a snake, and then, in order to go sufficiently slowly, either I had to keep my leg some seconds in the air at every step, or else to